#also i write anything for the second time in ten years

[caramelkoo]

before we shatter — jjk [one]

genre : established relationship, idol!jungkook

word count : 6k

summary : dating an idol is fun, they said. having a family with one is fun, they said. Until you're falling face forward because of your reality. A reality where Jungkook dreams of a future and a reality where your own future is collapsed.

chapter warnings : nsfw, strong language, mature content, fluff, so much angst, smut, talks of infertility, clit sucking, fingering, Jungkook worships her, dirty talk, doggy style, reader is in so much pain i love her sm, fall vibes <33, gift giving as a love language, pussy slapping with his d, big dick energy, jungkook is desperate. that's about it please mention if i missed anything.

read part two here

a/n : based on this ask so thank you anon for coming forward and giving me a chance to write this. i also wanna mention that im no doctor so please forgive me if i didn't do the topic of infertility justice. the second part gives more clarity in their case so please be kind to wait. enjoy and im v v grateful for you. you're so loved.

When you were a child, barely five, an orange butterfly came flying outside your front door. Your mom told you about it since she saw it first causing your entire face to instantly light up like the fourth of july.

An inexplicable joy filled your whole body making your day ten times better, not that you were having a bad one. A five year old can’t have a bad day whatsoever.

After you were done chasing it around, secretly hoping that it would land on your nose just the way they show on television, you had to let it go and head back inside. 

Oddly enough the next morning you saw it again, this time it was not flapping its wings like it had last night, instead it was sitting on the window beside the door. Quiet and still. 

You, ever so curious, had to ask your mom about it. “It might find comfort there,” she said. 

Up until you met your boyfriend you had spent the majority of your time wondering where your comfort place is, what is that one place where you can just be yourself and not pretend to be some stoic woman. A place which lets you cry whenever you want but also replaces those tears with wide smiles and loud giggles. 

Turns out, it’s your boyfriend’s arms. 

It’s true. Jungkook with his kind, sparkly bambi eyes and bunny smile stole your damn heart a few years ago and is not willing to give it back. Although you can’t complain, in a world where people can’t seem to find the one for themselves, the angels up there granted you a guy every inch a gentleman. Safe to say it’s not one like one of those titular relationships you've come across. 

He’s your solace, a roof where you can safely just about exist. 

He heals you.

Dating an Idol comes with several perks, the biggest one of those being dealing with the huge amount of selective criticism. You feel hurt, of course, but when you’re with Jungkook, they are nothing but words behind a pixel. A pain that only lasts momentarily. 

This pain though, is not as mundane. This one is making your stomach twist in apprehension. You’ve lost the count of how many deep breaths you’ve taken.

“I’m afraid this is a case of infertility miss _____” the doctor says, earning your attention.

You’re not able to form a word, however that does nothing to stop your subconscious mind from screaming, I knew it.

Being stupid enough to think you were well prepared to hear her say this, you mustered up the courage to enter the four walled white space which, at that time, didn’t feel as narrow as it does now. It’s almost as if it’s closing up on you.

Only after you sat before the woman in white coat and bad news, did you realize how gut wrenching this actually feels.

You face her with a weak smile, one that doesn’t actually reach your eyes, “Are- are you sure you’re not mistaken?” 

Dr. Ana leans forward, resting her forearms on the table. The move itself tells you more than you need to. “Miss _____, I know it’ll be hard for you to come to terms with this but I suggest you try. I would also like to tell you, and I hope I’m not overstepping, but you can always go with adoption. The options are endless.” 

Your throat feels awfully dry and you gulp. “Thank you uh, can I ask you for a favor?” 

“Anything”

“If you happen to cross paths with Jungkook, please don’t mention anything about this to him.” 

Dr. Ana flashes you a kind smile, “Of course not ____. It’s your personal matter. I wouldn’t dare.” 

“Thanks a lot.” 

With one last nod you excuse yourself from her office. Your phone buzzes inside your pocket and you take it out, seeing Jungkook’s number stare up at you. 

“Hey” 

“Hey, my love. Are you busy?” His voice nearly brings tears to your eyes. It also brings up a question. Will he act the same towards you after you tell him where you are and what you just heard? Will his voice be filled with the same amount of excitement and affection for you? 

“No, honey. I’m actually at my sister’s place. She was craving some alone time with her husband and asked me to babysit Coco”

You can visualise him awing already. Jungkook has grown attached to your sister’s daughter a little too much. His bond with Coco is just so bright it makes you wonder if they happened to be an actual father and daughter duo in the past life. They’re both full of beans and it’s a delight to see them both together. 

He chimes, “Ah my little Coco bean. Is she near? Let me hear my angel.” 

Pinching the bridge of your nose, you try to come up with any transitory excuse that doesn’t make you run for the hills. “She’s sleeping right now. Made me work for it but I managed to settle her down” 

Jungkook moans from the other side of the line and you mentally curse yourself. Not only are you lying through your teeth but also using your innocent niece as a pawn. From the day you began dating Jungkook, you’ve not looked at any other man. For the first time now, you have this nagging feeling as though you’re cheating on him. 

“Well, alright next time then. When are you coming back home?” 

“As soon as they do. Do you miss me already?” I tease.

“Pfft me and miss you? Impossible” 

You gasp, the audacity of this boy. “How rude!!”

Your goofy boyfriend dares to chuckle, “I carry you with me everywhere I go, love. It’s hard to miss someone who’s this close to you every time of the day.” 

It doesn’t take you long to grasp what he is referring to. The heart shaped bracelet rests proudly on his wrists and the man had refused to take it off ever since you gifted it to him. A sense of longing already creeps up in your heart, twisting it until you run out of breath. 

Your chest expands as you fill it with much needed air, “Listen, honey I’ll give you a call soon yeah? I think Coco has woken up and I must go check if she needs something,” you fake a chuckle, “You know how she gets when she’s irritated” 

“Oh yes of course. Promise to give me a call soon?” 

This time the smile on your face is genuine, “I promise” 

“Give Coco a kiss for me. I love you.” 

“I love you.” 

There’s a heavy weight on your chest as soon as you hang up the call. Maybe it has always been there. So, for a couple of minutes you just stand there in the hallway of the hospital taking in the sterile smell and worrisome patients, praying that the highest power up there gives you one last chance so you could try and fix what’s been ruined.

The commotion around you does nothing to overtake the voices in your head and sadness fires through you as you feel like you’re burning your boats. Despite all of that, you pray for one last time, this time for again being strong enough to let go. 

Let go of your happiness.

Let go of your salvation.

Let go of your comfort.

Let go of Jungkook.

˚୨୧⋆｡˚

You click the door shut behind you, hanging the coat on the rack. You’re not even done turning around when a muscular arm wraps around your abdomen and you’re pulled back against a taut chest. 

“I missed you” his voice is muffled against your jumper.

You run your palms over Jungkook’s forearm, stopping to interlace your fingers with his.The way his hands fit with yours is adorable to you as if they were made to do so. The bracelet on his wrist is cool against your skin and you smile. “You know what’s funny? This guy I talked to earlier said it’s impossible for him to miss me” 

He rests his chin on top of your shoulders, cheeks warm against yours. He has grown out a stubble which makes him look manlier for some reason and you can’t stop caressing it with your fingers whenever you cup his face.

“You’re talking to other guys?” If you hadn’t known Jungkook better than himself, you would have missed the pout of his lips when he said that. 

You turn your face and place a sloppy kiss on his cheekbones, “Only my favourite guy in the whole world.” 

He breaks out in a toothy grin and holds your gaze. “You’re my favourite girl too but I think you already know that.” 

You nod but the pang of guilt is still lingering in your heart. “Still love hearing it.” 

Jungkook releases you from his embrace and walks back, rounding the kitchen counter until he’s holding up a large bowl. “Ready for our fall ritual?” 

Jungkook and you have been using your mum’s recipe to bake chocolate chip cookies every fall and while you enjoy baking with him, the thing that you take the most pleasure from is his face when he munches on the first cookie.

It’s one of your favorite sights ever. It takes quite a bit of effort to bake them but hell if you wouldn’t do it all over again just to see him close his eyes and moan like it is the best thing since sliced bread. 

You join him behind the counter and look around. From the way the batter has already been prepared you suppose he’s been at it for a while. There are some chocochips in a small bowl across from you with some cranberries next to them because he knows you like them in your cookies. 

“You don’t ever forget about the cranberries, do you?” 

“Nope. They’re your favourite plus if you eat well, I can eat you well– ouch,” he jumps, “What was that for?” 

You offer him a glare which does nothing to stop the smile threatening to break out of your lips, “Behave” 

His face inches closer to yours, “Now honey don’t be acting like I didn’t give you the best orgasm this morning” 

Oh well, how can you forget about that? Ninety nine percent of the time you love waking up in his arms while he’s the big spoon but there’s that one percent where he wakes you up with his head between your legs, sometimes with his face under your shirt sucking on your nipples. Indissoluble passion within him. His ability to satisfy you with his mouth alone needs to be studied because god if you don’t crave more and more. 

You blink, once twice thrice, “You’re incorrigible” 

He lets out a cackle at your flustered face as you wonder when you will stop blushing like a fool around him. It’s been years and he still makes you feel like you’re wrapped up in a ball of jitters. Jungkook leans back and straightens up. He plucks the apron from the counter before coming up behind you. “Hold your hair up for me” He demands. 

You grab a fistful of your hair and lift them up as he settles it on your neck before tying the knot at your back. With one last kiss on the back of your neck he joins you. 

“How long has it been since you began making this?” 

“Not long ago. Thought I’d wait for you to come back home and then continue”

You watch him add the chocochips into the dough. His tattoos are barely visible behind the cozy sweater he’s wearing. At the risk of sounding like a hypocrite, Jungkook with his perfect physique and gorgeous face looks good in everything, more so naked, but nothing triggers your cuteness aggression more than him wearing a fluffy knitted sweater, believe it or not. One which you knitted at that.

He pulls your attention away pausing your little drooling session, “How’s Coco bean doing?” 

A sudden urge of getting close to him creeps up and you sneak between the counter and him, hugging him as you nuzzle your face in his chest. He smells like cinnamon. He places a gentle kiss on the crown of your head before resting his chin there. 

“You smell so good” 

“Thanks and she’s as chaotic as ever. Nailea bought the cutest pair of pyjamas for her,” you look up at him,  “She looked like a loaf of bread when they made her wear it.” 

“No way. Should we buy her another one of those?” he pulls back, barely able to hide the excitement on his face.

“You’re gonna spoil her” 

“Damn right I will and if you call this spoiling, wait till I get one of those made by me.” 

There it is. 

If Jungkook wasn’t so fond of children, would it have been easier for you to cope? You do realize that you’re a stone’s throw away from losing him for once and for all. In the old days you heard somewhere that it takes a strong man to save to save himself and a great man to save another.

You want to be that brave person who saves him from lifelong loathing and regret towards you.

This turning point in your life gives you two options, one where you can hang by a thread and bite your tongue while you continue your life with him, another where you set him free. The latter one wins and you, however, lose. 

“Hey you went silent there. You okay?” He cups your cheek with one hand, his thumb grazing your cheekbones so gently you try not to cry. 

You nod and flash him a smile. Or at least you try to smile and detach yourself from him. “Perfect. Let’s get those cookies baking shall we?” 

Jungkook keeps looking at you with an expression which tells you he’s trying to search for something, but you try not to give anything away. Yet.

He gives you a look, his eyes sparkling under the low light in the room,

“Wait here for a second i’ll be right back” 

“Where are you goi-”

“Just a second. Don’t move” His voice trails off as he goes further into the bedroom. A minute later when he comes back, there’s nothing different about him except the sneaky smile on his face. He walks towards you and grabs you by the waist as he sits you on the counter. Your hands instantly clutch his shoulders for support. 

“What is happening, baby?” You mumble, clearly in a fog. 

He says nothing as he gets down on his knees. Taking a hold of your right leg, he places it on his thigh. You swallow.

He looks up, clashing his eyes with yours, “You ask too many questions, do you know that?” 

Seconds later he’s taking something out of his jogger pocket and a cool sensation brushes your skin. You peek down, curiosity finally killing the cat as you see a silver anklet adorned by a pink stone in the middle of it embraced around your ankles. 

His name is a whisper on your lips, “Jungkook”  

He gets up, facing you as he stands. But not before pecking the anklet as well as your skin. His face which earlier was eerie, now entirely soft. 

“Mom sent this for you.” 

You don’t hold back tears this time, letting them run free. You glance at the jewellery again as it shines under the light of the kitchen lamp. The pink stone glares at you as if it knows you’re not worthy of such a valuable item. 

“It’s beautiful”

He gently wipes the tears away,

“It’s just the beginning, love. I’m not gonna stop until I see a band wrapped around your finger. I feel too lonely being the only one there.” 

You playfully smack him on the chest, a giggle slipping free. With a tired shake of your head you admit, “This is overwhelming” 

“What is?” he asks,

“All of this,” you keep your gaze on him, sniffing as you continue,“Your little acts of service, your love, your presence and now this gift. I feel like I’m taking too much not giving enough” 

Your throat feels too tight, as if someone is just cutting off your air supply when you should be feeling free in his arms. 

Jungkook’s eyebrows tense as he reaches for you. Tucking a strand of hair behind your ear he tries to reassure you, “Don’t say that. I hate when you question your worth,” he pecks the back of your hands, “These hands feed me, hold me when I need them to, give me warmth, gentle touches”,

His lips find both of your eyes next as you close them, feeling his soft lips on them,

“These eyes tear up with happiness every time you listen to me in the studio”,

Your ears follow next, “These ears tolerate my snoring”,

Then your lips, “And this mouth, my favourite, whispers ‘i love you’ to me every morning, leaves kisses on my skin, screams my name and most importantly, forms the loveliest smile when I make you happy.” His eyes are oh so gentle as he says this. 

You’re about to respond when his phone buzzes on the counter next to you. Your heart stops. Fuck is it Dr. Ana?

To your surprise, it’s Jimin’s number on the screen.

“Pick it up, honey. It might be important.” 

His thumb presses on the red button as he declines the call, “I’ll talk to him later. My girlfriend comes first.” 

Neither of you say a word as the room gets filled with a comfortable silence. The cookies are long forgotten, your eyes doing all the talking. Even if you try your hardest you’re not sure you can say anything which is remotely justifiable of what he just said to you.

Jungkook is so much more than meets the eye, he’s vulnerable, he’s empathetic, he’s loving. His eyes shine the brightest when he’s happy about something and you’re so full of contempt about the fact that eventually you will be the one to snatch away that shine. This hornet’s nest is going to ruin me, ruin him. 

“I wanna kiss you so bad” He whispers, leaning closer but you stop him with your palms on his chest.

“Wait, I-I want to talk about something” 

His voice is downright pleading when he says, “Later baby. I’m fucking gonna die if I don’t take that mouth right now. Please?” his breath touches your bare lips. 

Feeling a flutter in your chest you nod and he leans towards you, hand cupping your lower jaw as he touches his lips to yours. Softly at first, then his pace quickens. Your hands grab his sweater as you pull him even closer, deepening the kiss. His moan echoes followed by your own as you both lose yourselves in each other. You let go of every menacing thought and just focus on the taste of his lips. 

He pulls back slightly, taking a deep breath as he fills his chest with air. Those beautiful lips are pink and swollen from the heated kiss you just shared with him. Getting rid of the sweater, he tosses it aside as his eyes sparkle with amusement.

Without wasting any time he begins nibbling at your neck, slightly biting onto it as your hands run over his back. He’s so beautiful it takes your breath away. Not to toot your own horn but you have the most gorgeous boyfriend and you’re not ashamed to show him off. 

His lips ghost over your nipples from over your high neck top and you groan.

“Jungkook, please” 

He pulls back with a smug look on his face, “Please what ____?” 

“Please fuck me. I need your cock so bad.” 

“Yeah? Is that what my girl wants?” 

At this point your body is thrumming with anticipation and desire as you watch him move his hands closer to the waistband of your pants. His hands pause when they meet the lace material, his pupils dilate. 

He smiles, “It’s the one I gifted you. Were you hoping for this huh?” 

Your lips stretch into a smile. You hadn’t particularly hoped for this, no, because your relationship with him is not just based on physical pleasures. You guys have sex of course, but it’s not the prominent part of the bond you share. It’s more than that. The lace lingerie set was gifted to you by Jungkook on a random day. It was one of those quote unquote just because gifts. 

“What do you think?” you ask, giving him a quick kiss. 

He grabs you by the back of your neck and holds you there for a moment before leaning back and looking straight into your eyes. “I think you should lose it or else I’ll ruin it” 

You gasp, swatting him on the bicep. “Don’t you dare. It’s my favourite pair”  

Without preamble he picks you off the counter making you wrap your legs around his waist. You both are so close it takes your breath away. Chest to chest, groin to groin, face to face with lips inches away from each other’s as you share a breath. 

He walks into your shared bedroom as you clash your lips against his, pulling his lower one between yours, earning a groan out of him. You both are downright feral, letting your hands run over every area of each other’s body. Jungkook’s hands grabbing your ass, yours pulling on his hair lightly before trailing down his chest, pausing on his pecs. 

When you reach your bedroom, he sits himself down with you on top of his lap. Your hips move forward and you hiss as your still jean clad pussy brushes his cock. He’s so hard you wonder if he’s close to coming already. 

Rough hands scrape over your back, hips, down your thigh before they finally settle on either side of your waist, gipping them tightly but also with a hint of gentleness. One thing you admire about your man is that he doesn’t treat you like a fragile woman, he knows you’re strong and you’ll not break if he’s rough with you. 

Jungkook pulls back from your lips.“Fuck honey, you’re such a goddess. Look at this body. I still can’t believe I get to call you mine” 

You shake your head, totally under his spell. “I’m the lucky one here, baby. You have no idea how lucky I am.” 

His hand brushes over your ass before he dips it inside your pants, reaching your already soaked pussy as he pushes a finger inside you. This earns a whimper from you as you tip your head back. 

“That’s where you’re wrong, ____. Want me to show you how lucky I am?” He takes the finger out before pumping it back again. You moan as his other hand gips the nape of your neck and he brings his mouth to your neck, biting on it. 

“Oh my god” you cry, seeing him suck the finger clean and face forming an expression filled with the deepest level of satisfaction as he closes his eyes. 

Setting his eyes back on you, he sighs, “This isn’t my first time tasting you, honey. But it gets better every fucking time and I find myself craving you an unhealthy amount, you know that? Do you know how crazy I am for you? Could eat you out everyday and wouldn’t need anything else to feel full.” His words send a shiver down your spine. “You’re my favorite meal.” 

He pushes three fingers back inside with a slight force and you let out a scream, arching your back. He takes one nipple into his mouth and gives it a long suck, letting it go with a loud pop. 

“Oh yes, just like that. Suck it again, baby” You beg and he does exactly that as he takes the other sensitive bud into his mouth. 

You’re not sure if you have been this vocal about your needs with anyone before him. Not that you dated a lot, for a person who’s a hopeless romantic to the core you’ve always found yourself waiting for the right one. Additionally, you believed your body to be as sacred as a temple. Surely there had to be a guy somewhere who would treat it as such.

Then, enters Jungkook who not only was out of your league metaphorically but literally. He lived miles away from your place so there was not a chance you could have let anything take place between the both of you. But as they always say, the heart wants what it wants. To put it briefly, there was chemistry, a connection you didn’t want to lose.

Strong fingers pump into you. In and out, in and out. “You’re so wet. What do you say? Should I lick you clean?” 

“Yes, ah oh my goodness that’s sooo good” you toss your head back, slowly grinding against his hands. 

He wraps an arm around your waist, lifts you off his lap and tosses you back on the bed. Keeping his eyes still locked with yours he gets rid of his jogger, letting his cock spring free.

It bobs and you lick your lips, already wanting to take it into your mouth but you know for a fact that he wouldn’t let you do that, not because he doesn’t want you to but because he wants to give you the highest amount of pleasure first. As he always does. 

Jungkook lets out a shaky sigh as gives his cock a pull, his eyes running over your whole body. Up and down then back at your face again. You’re still not fully bare in front of him while he’s standing there, all in his glory. 

“Lose the pants” he commands. 

You immediately slide out of them and toss them on the floor somewhere. He grabs you by the hips, jerking you to the edge of the bed as he sinks down on his knees. Spreading your legs wider he releases a breath. Warmth touches your wet pussy and you prop yourself up by the elbows to look at him. 

You need to look at him if you want to stay sane, have to feel him with you here. Shivers run through you even by the thought of not being able to feel him and this ever again. This might as well be your last day on this god awful planet from the way the ache in your chest keeps on increasing. It makes a home there, not letting you entirely forget about the eventualities. 

“God you’re dripping, honey” 

“For you” you admit.

Hot and wet kisses are left to the inside of your thigh and your hands find the back of his head as you grip it lightly. 

His head lifts up, his eyes finding yours, “Don’t hold back,____. Grip it as tightly as you want to. I don’t want any hesitations because when I fuck you, I’m not going to be holding back. You hear me?” 

A desperate moan leaves you, and he rewards you by kissing your pussy. Keeping his eyes on you, he doesn’t give you a chance to whine out your needs before his tongue is licking a single line up your clit.

He moans and gently tugs on your clit. “Such a perfect cunt” 

You push his head against your pussy and rock forward, chasing your orgasm. 

“Feels so good, feels so perfect, baby” you murmur.

Just when you’re starting to feel the climax incoming, when Jungkook suddenly grabs you by the waist and flips you, so he’s lying down and you’re on top. Then, he grabs you by the back of your neck, pulling you for a heated kiss. 

He pulls back, “Sit on my face, my queen” 

Your eyes widen and you hesitate, but you don’t want to. You wanna let go, knowing you’re lucky enough to get something like this in this lifetime, so you give in. He hoists you up by the hips, positions you over his face and pulls you down. His warm breath feels like a soft whisper against your pussy. 

You cry out in pleasure as soon as his tongue dives deep inside you, squeezing your tits in your hands. Grinding against his face, you close your eyes and just… feel. Feel the heat, feel the emotions, feel the intimacy, feel the ache in your chest.

A thought crosses your head and you wonder if you’re doing something wrong, something selfish. Touching him like this and getting consumed by him feels like you’re doing nothing but ruining him. 

He sucks on your clit with sheer eagerness and desire, pulling you further down so you’re putting your weight on his face. Concern perks up and you look down, trying not to crush him but it seems like he couldn’t care less. 

“Let go, honey. Just focus on my mouth.” 

Let go. God, how bad you hate those words. They feel like acid in your ears. 

“Keep going, Jungkook. Don’t you dare stop” you cry out. 

Soon enough you’re aching your back, cunt pulsing against his lips as you come. He swallows every single drop as if he’d die if he doesn’t and leaves you in awe. You slump, letting your body relax.

Much to your amusement, he doesn’t give you enough time to relax before he’s turning you over until you’re on your knees. Hot passionate kisses are placed on your sweaty back, pulling a gasp from you. 

“What a fucking sight. I wish you could see how stunning you look right now and it’s all because of me, isn’t it? This glistening back, this wet cunt,” he strokes a finger down your pussy, “It’s all because of me and you dare to call yourself lucky?” 

You catch a sight of him stroking himself over your shoulders and your breath quickens. 

His abs are glistening with sweat and his chin still has your cum on it. 

He smirks, “Like what you see, honey” 

“You’re beautiful” 

His eyes soften, letting his hands drop from his angry and already leaking with precum cock, he grabs either side of your hips and lines himself against your needy pussy. You let your head drop on the mattress and clench your fist, preparing yourself for him. He gives your cunt a slight slap with his cock before filling you in, groaning as he goes deeper.

You moan, “Fuck baby. That’s so deep.” 

“You’re so warm, honey. You feel like home” he thrusts again. 

His hands grip yours, and he covers your body with his own, still thrusting inside with rough movements. His chest feels warm and safe against your back as it fills you with a deep sense of safety, protection and love.

You match every thrust of his with your own, moving your hips backwards. Your tits are getting equal attention from him as he pinches the two sensitive buds between his fingers. 

You both chase your high with you screaming out his name and him whispering yours like a prayer. He gives in one last thrust before he’s coming inside you, his teeth biting on your shoulder. You’re following him soon as you grip the bed sheet tighter in your fist, moaning as you come. 

Before you collapse, he pulls you upright and lets his cock slide out of you. His fingers push his cum inside your throbbing cunt, making your stomach twist in pain.

You murmur. “I love you” 

His lips stretch into one of those lazy smiles you love so much. “I love you too, my precious girl. Now, do you wanna sleep or go make those cookies?” a sloppy kiss is pressed on your forehead. 

Wrapping your arms around his shoulders you pull him on top of you, “Should we save those for later? I really wanna cuddle” 

He presses a soft kiss on the tip of your button nose, “Sure. Let me clean you up first. You don’t have to move an inch, just relax.” 

Minutes later he’s coming back with a bottle of water and a bowl of marshmallows. You bite back a chuckle when you look at his face. There’s such a deep crease between his eyebrows you’d think he’s trying to win a game of uno or something. 

But it’s short lived when he places the items on the nightstand and gazes at you, his eyes having the same funny look they had earlier in the kitchen.You try to summon your most unbothered and good natured grin but it doesn’t do shit to stop the electricity from running through your blood. 

“Why are you looking at me like that?” you ask, biting your lip.

An uncertain laugh slips out of him, “I don’t know. I’m- God, I really don’t know but I have this weird feeling that something is not right.” He begins cleaning you up but you can’t shake the feeling of nervousness and anxiety away. 

You know for a fact that he’s right. Something is not right, in fact nothing is right. 

He peeks at you from between your legs, “Hey, what is it that you wanted to talk about?” 

The air whooshes out of your lungs. Should you come clean? Is it the right time? 

You huff a tight laugh. “It’s nothing actually. Can we talk about it later?” 

When he’s done cleaning you up he places a small kiss on both your knees and stands up. Offering you a nod, he says, “Whenever you feel like it. I’m not going anywhere” 

Yet. He’s not going anywhere yet. 

You grin, “I wouldn’t let you” 

He lets a laugh slip out as he walks inside the bathroom. Then, he comes back, settles himself beside you and brings you closer by wrapping his arm around your waist. His feet find yours as he touches the anklet with them. 

“Let’s sleep. I’ll be here when you wake up” he promises. 

Morning comes quickly as the sun casts its glow on your sleepy yet excited eyes. Holding out a hand, you try searching for your boyfriend next to you, but a slight sting arises in your heart when he’s not there. You open your eyes, adjusting to the sunlight. 

Although, you hoped you did not wake up, you hoped death consumed you in your sleep because the person across from you is a total stranger. A stranger whose eyes are misty and mouth is pulled down in deep frown, a sunflower bouquet in one hand and the other one holding a blue file so tightly you can see his knuckles turning white.

Jungkook holds out the file to you, “How long were you planning to hide this from me,____?” 

For the first time in your life, you hate your name. You hate how bitter it sounds coming from his mouth like this.It has always been “____, you’re my everything,” “I love you,____”, “_____, you mean the world to me”.

Acid bubbles in your stomach at his words, and you can’t help but sob. You wonder if the butterfly was preparing you for this day. If she could talk, what would she have said to you? 

The words that leave him next might as well be daggers in your chest, "Tell me, honey. Is it the important thing you wanted to talk about but held back just to get a good fuck out of me?"

@fluttershy-vanilla @theyysam37 love you pookies. enjoy <3

[joonsmagicshop]

Sundress Season

Summary: The heat of the summer means you are suddenly only wearing sundresses. Short, tight, impossibly cute dresses that make Jungkook feel things. When he decides to jerk off before a beach day with you little does he know you would accidently walk in...and like what you see.

Paring: Jungkook/Reader

Word Count: 6.2K

Rating: M/18+ because smut

Tags: porn with slight plot, secret crush, friends to lovers, Jungkook is down bad, fantasizing, male masturbation, accidental voyeurism, handjob, blowjob, fingering, penetrative sex with protection, POV switch between him and reader, dirty talk, he calls her good girl at one point, slight fluff at the end, Namjoon mention cause he is my bias

Authors Note: okay so. I was about to take a nap and this idea popped into my head and I JUMPED out of bed to write it! It has been hot as hell all summer long and honestly unpopular opinion but I am ready for fall. Was gonna save this for Jungkook's birthday but oh well!

Also this was loosely inspired by a One Direction fic I read over ten years ago. While the fic is gone it is definitely not forgotten

Jungkook was someone who liked the summer months.

He liked the longer brighter days, the food eaten from a barbeque, bonfires with friends, and all the fun events that happen over the summer.

It was prime time for everyone to get out and do things before the harsh dull winter arrived.

However, this summer was different because by the time August rolled around Jungkook was just….over it.

He chalked it up to a lot of things.

The fact he didn’t get a proper haircut before the summer started, so he spent the whole time with a hair tie around his wrist to tie his hair back from his sweaty neck.

The fact he had a song coming out at the end of August that he still wasn’t completely sure about so he spent most of his days either working on it in his studio or from the comfort of his own home.

Or maybe it was the fact almost all summer long the weather had been very hot and very humid, making his clothes stick to his skin the second he walked out the door and making it almost impossible to actually enjoy going out and doing anything.

Jungkook sighed as he crossed another day off his calendar that hung on the wall in his home office counting down the days until August was over.

Sure the start of September was his birthday and he was excited for that but he was mostly getting excited about the prospect of cooler weather and no more daunting deadlines hanging over his head like an angry raincloud.

As his best friend, you could tell Jungkook wasn’t enjoying this summer. His usual free-spirited nature seemed to be crushed by the weight of his work and also the humidity, which seemed to linger no matter how many summer rainstorms blew through.

So you had texted him a week ago asking if he wanted to have a beach day with you today.

You assured him all he had to do was drive and grab beach umbrellas and you would take care of the rest for him, making the food and grabbing a cooler full of drinks.

Jungkook was ecstatic at the idea and made sure to work extra hard this past week to give himself a day off to spend with you.

However, that did pose another problem for Jungkook as he left his home office to head back to his bedroom to make sure his beach bag was packed.

Sunscreen, towel, extra towel in case, his goggles for when he swam, his phone, a book Namjoon had told him he should read even though it had been three months since it had been loaned out to Jungkook and he still had not even opened it, a notebook and a pen in case a song idea came to him, headphones, sunglasses and lastly some of his favorite chips he was packing just in case.

While he was all packed and ready to go, there was still a big problem he was dealing with.

How was he supposed to deal with being around you while you were dressed in one of your many sundresses?

Somewhere online had dubbed it a “sundress summer” due to the humidity and the trend took off instantly. It seemed like everywhere he went girls were wearing these short cute sundresses because in their words it was too hot to wear pants.

You usually were not a trend follower as you opted to choose your own style but this was a trend you could get behind, and soon enough Jungkook found you wearing sundresses almost every day.

Soft blue ones with little bows on the straps, bright red ones with white flowers, and even some strapless ones that nearly made his eyes pop out of his head at the sight.

He genuinely didn’t think he would survive this summer if you kept up with this, especially since most of the sundresses were short and had a habit of billowing in the breeze making you grab the skirt and giggle.

The other big problem was you had no idea the turmoil Jungkook had been in all summer long.

You both were friends, growing up across the street from each other and hanging out almost every day. You went to the same grade school, and the same high school, and were inseparable. You supported his dreams of being an idol and he supported your goals and dreams too.

You had no idea that this was the summer that everything changed for him. When he realized that you were not just his best friend, but also a charismatic stunning woman who he started to gain a crush on.

Jungkook tried his best to keep the crush to himself. He didn’t want to lose you as a friend and it would be devastating to get rejected by you so he figured he would just keep it hidden and keep being your friend.

He would try his best not to scowl anytime a man came up to you and offered to buy you a drink. He would pretend it didn’t hurt when you would kiss strangers at the club wrapping your fingers through their hair and moaning against their lips.

He hated that when you dropped a guy because of whatever reason, his heart would do a little victory dance in his chest and he would try to look like a supportive friend and not a desperate loser who just wanted you to feel the same way about him as he did about you.

There were times though, when Jungkook was sure you felt….something.

How your eyes would linger when he took off his shirt. How you would always ask him to roll up his sleeve so you could look at the array of tattoos he had, how angry you got when that girl he really liked ghosted him a year ago.

There were times when he would also catch you staring at his lips. Just a quick downward flick of your eyes and in a blink it was gone.

But Jungkook noticed.

And he often wondered what would happen if he leaned in and kissed you.

Would he have read the entire situation wrong? Or would you kiss him back?

Jungkook shakes his head to rid him of these thoughts as he scoops everything up and puts it in his beach bag muttering to himself how he is being silly about this whole thing.

He is your friend.

And that’s that.

His phone vibrates on his dresser startling him, as he zips the bag closed and grabs it.

You: I have all the goods we need! I’m so excited for our beach day Kookie. Text me when you want me to head over. Might take a bit because of Saturday traffic.

Jungkook smiles at your pet name for him even though you have used it a million times and he quickly texts you back letting you know he was ready and you could come over whenever.

Jungkook’s vehicle had more storage space so you were going to drive to his place and he was going to drive to the beach. Plus his car had a sunroof which you absolutely adored and you often put your hands above your head like you were on a rollercoaster to feel the wind between your fingers.

It made him smile every time and made his heart pound in his chest.

Those were the moments of pure bliss where he felt his heart would burst out of his chest at all the feelings he had for you.

Feelings he was still trying to desperately hide.

Namjoon of course found out one night when Jungkook had one too many drinks and spilled his guts about it. Namjoon was patient with Jungkook as he told the entire story, how the crush came out of nowhere, and how he didn’t know what to do. He couldn’t lose you. He wouldn’t lose you.

As always Namjoon was the voice of reason and told Jungkook just to talk to you about it and Jungkook shot that idea down right away.

Namjoon promised to keep his mouth shut until Jungkook was ready to tell you himself which Jungkook vowed he would never… ever do. Your friendship was very important. He would take this secret with him to the grave.

With nothing else to do until you arrived, Jungkook shucked his beach bag off his bed and laid down.

He threw an arm over his face and let out a frustrated groan.

How the hell was he supposed to survive having a beach day with you? You were so beautiful. So sexy in your little sundresses, seeing you in a bathing suit would destroy him.

His mind wandered to last week when you met him for a lunch break you forced him to have because he was working so hard that he started skipping meals.

You showed up to his studio with food in hand and a little black sundress with small white and pink flowers scattered all over it.

The straps were so tiny and delicate and tied together with small pink bows and Jungkook couldn’t help but stare, as you brushed past him to put the food on the small coffee table he kept in his studio.

As you leaned down the dress climbed higher up your body, exposing more of your legs and the apex of your thighs to his hungry gaze and he couldn’t help it.

The blood rushed to his cock so quickly he felt dizzy as he scrambled to sit on the couch before you noticed he popped a boner because of you in that damn sundress.

You didn’t seem to notice as you sat next to him and chatted about your day as you ate alongside him.

Jungkook tried to focus on what you were saying, he really did, but his eyes kept trailing down to your thighs and how tanned they looked due to all the time you spent outside.

What he wouldn’t give to pull that dress up higher and expose more of yourself to him. What would you do if he got his fingers between those legs? How would you sound moaning out his name as he plunges a finger inside?

Back in the present time Jungkook groaned and squeezed his eyes shut.

He could hardly hear the sounds of the lawnmower outside, or the kids screaming down the block as blood was pounding in his ears and he looked down with a grimace as he was hard in his swim trunks.

Achingly hard.

Just the memory of you in that dress alone made his cock fill rapidly and the bulge was evident as his cock stretched the material.

Now was not the time to pop a boner as you were going to be showing up soon but he felt like if he didn’t take care of it now it would never go down so he slowly lifted his hips to shuck off his swim shorts throwing them somewhere on the floor and freeing his aching cock.

His cock sat hard and heavy on his stomach as the head of it was a flushed red color. Jungkook took his time tracing his tattooed hand down his body, shivering when the air conditioning turned on, turning his nipples hard as he finally made his way to his cock.

He circled his cock which twitched in his hand and he got to work.

He threw his head back and imagined what would happen if he did lift your dress higher that day.

How you would stare at him all wide-eyed and shocked as he exposed your pussy. How you would be wet and throbbing for him. He would of course ask for permission before touching you and you would admit you’ve wanted this for ages.

Jumgkook sped up his movements on his cock, flicking his wrist over the cockhead and smearing his precum down his heated shaft. He always got so messy and wet when he imagined you and the glide felt amazing.

In his mind’s eye, you were grabbing his arm for support as his other hand explored your pussy. He would part your pussy lips so gently and you would be soaked for him. You would arch up into his fingers and beg for his touch as he would finally coat his finger in your wetness.

He would pop it into his mouth and taste you as you would whine and beg him for more.

The taste of you would explode on his tongue and he knew the second it touched his tongue it was over for him. He would never want to taste anyone else but you.

Jungkook sped up his movements once again as his muscles started to strain. He was getting close as his thumb flicked over his cockhead sending jolts of pleasure down his spine.

He would lay you back on the couch in his studio and fuck you open with one finger. You would be so wet for him, so needy for him. Your dress hiked up to expose yourself, one strap falling off your shoulder as you whine out his name.

Jungkook tightens his grip on his cock and begins to fuck up into his fist. His head is thrown back and his dark hair is a mess on his pillow. He bites his bottom lip to keep from whining your name out loud. His cock is throbbing in his hand, hot and hard and so desperate to release all over his twitching stomach.

He wants to make you cum apart all over his fingers. He wants to tease you, taste you, fill you up with his cock, and make you moan his name.

His hand speeds up as his hips fuck his cock wildly up into his hand.

Sweat is starting to form on his brow and he is close, so close he can feel his muscles tighten and his balls draw up. His cock is a sticky mess as he is leaking so much precum the glide is impeccable and the wet sounds are obscene.

“Y/N.” He groans unable to keep his noises contained as the muscles on his arms are bulging as he rubs his hand across his frenulum collecting the mess there to slide it down his shaft.

Jungkook can feel the beginning of his orgasm as he cries out your name and tightens his hand around his shaft jerking his cock quickly as the pressure builds.

He is right there.

His balls tighten, and he can feel his shaft contracting and spasming. His heart rate is rapid and the hair on his arms stands up.

“Kook?” He hears a soft small voice call and his eyes snap open as panic seizes his body. He released his cock to grab a pillow to cover himself as his head whips around to see you standing there in one of your sundresses looking horrified.

Holy fuck.

“Y/N!” He cries out, shoving the pillow over his cock which is still thrumming with need and twitching painfully as his orgasm is still just right there but you are also standing....right there.

He sits up against the headboard and puts a hand over his racing heart as he stares at you wide-eyed in absolute horror.

He was jerking off to you. His best friend. Moaning your name. And you walked in on him caught in the act.

Holy fuck he was so fucked.

“I-texted you to let you know I was here but you didn’t answer. I remembered where you keep the spare key so I-l-Let myself in.” You stammered unable to look away as Jungkook wished the bed and floor would swallow him hole.

You had driven over so excited to see Jungkook today and you even wore your best sundress just for him.

The pale blue one with the small bow in between the built-in cups.

You made sure to get all his favorite foods and snacks as you knew he had been working himself to death and you wanted to treat him.

He didn’t answer your knocks or your texts so you figured maybe he had his music on too loud once again and didn’t hear you.

You put the key in the door and were met with utter silence, which was a little weird but you figured he was in the back getting the umbrellas or something so you made your way through his apartment until you heard a noise.

A soft grunt that had you worried. Maybe he hurt himself? Maybe he was sick?

You flew to his bedroom and there he was.

All sprawled out on the bed with his shorts discarded on the floor. He was still wearing his white tee shirt and had his head thrown back against his pillows with his legs spread wide exposing himself to you.

You knew you should leave, you knew this was a private moment but you couldn’t help but stare as he worked his cock with his hand.

He was big and even from where you stood you could see how wet his cock was and how slick he sounded when he jerked it.

You knew you should step away, maybe stand outside until it was over but you were rooted to the spot as you watched his hips arch up and the filthiest moans leave his pink parted lips.

And when he moaned your name

Dear god when he moaned your name you felt your own arousal pool in your bikini shorts as you gripped the door for support.

Jungkook moaning your name.

He was fantasizing about you

He was the most gorgeous man you had ever met and he chose to fantasize about you when he jerked off.

The whole thing felt unreal.

“I-I- You… you weren’t supposed to-I didn’t mean for you to- fuck.” Jungkook stuttered as you put your bag down on the floor and entered his room.

His large dark eyes widened when you made your way to the bed and you could see his fingers flexing on the decorative pillow he threw over his lap to cover himself.

“I-fuck- I’m so sorry you probably h-h-ate me and think I’m a pervert- I-I can-explain.” He stammers cheeks flushed with the prettiest blush you had ever seen.

Jungkook continued to stammer out apologies as you stared down at him in shock. His hair was a sweaty mess on his forehead and his chest was heaving. You could see his muscles straining through the white material of his shirt and his hand held the pillow firmly over his cock.

Was he still hard?

Was he still horny?

Was he actually jerking off to you?

“Y/N please say something. Please.” He begs in a small voice as your eyes finally meet his and he looks in anguish over the whole thing.

“Were you…jerking off….to me?” You ask in awe as he flushes further and sits up higher on the bed.

His teeth bite into his lower lip as you sit softly on the edge of the bed.

“I-I can-I-” He stammers.

“Yes or No Jungkook?” You ask firmly.

His eyes widen and he nods. He hangs his head in shame and you feel your pussy throb.

Jungkook, your best friend, the guy you have had a crush on since high school was hot and bothered because of you.

It made you beam in excitement.

“Show me.” You say boldly as his eyes snap to yours and widen in shock.

“I-Uh- W-What?” He says.

“I want to see you finish. Or help you finish. Show me, Koo?” You plead as his tongue comes out to lick at his lip and the tension in the room is thick like the humidity outside.

“You don’t hate me? Or think I’m creepy? You’re not going to yell at me?” He says doe eyes wide as his hand twitches on the pillow again.

“Of course not. Masturbation is normal. I’m honored you’re even thinking of me in the first place.” You say as you slowly run your hand down his forearm.

“I died. I must have died or hit my head cause there is no way this is real. Holy fuck.” He mutters as you giggle and Jungkook can feel his cock, which had gone immediately soft at being caught, start to thicken behind the pillow.

“This is real. And I gotta admit. It’s hot as fuck you think of me when you touch yourself.” You admit as he blinks shyly at you.

“Can’t help it. These sundresses…fuck.” He says fingering the fabric of your dress before running a shaky hand through his long hair.

“Show me, Koo? Please.” You beg and he nods slowly as his teeth bite into his lower lip harshly.

“Don’t bite your lip Koo you’re gonna make yourself bleed.” You whisper as he lets out a breathy nervous laugh.

“Can’t help it. ‘m nervous.” He admits.

“No need to be nervous. It’s just me.”

“That’s the problem. The girl I’m fantasizing about is right in front of me wanting to see me jerk off. I’m so pent up I’m scared I’m gonna bust a nut all over this pillow.” He whimpers as you giggle.

“Then you better get to work. Show me? Please, Koo? Wanna see up close.”

He nods and removes the pillow baring his half-hard cock to you.

You gasp when you see it and Jungook covers his eyes in embarassment.

Even half-hard his cock is beautiful. The head is flushed a pretty pink color and there is a vein running up it that makes your mouth water.

“So pretty Koo.” You praise, as he removes his hands and stares at you in awe.

He slowly takes his cock in his hand and begins to jerk it. You watch as the flushed head disappears between his fist and how he takes his time with himself, flicking his wrist occasionally making pretty beads of precum leak out the slit.

It doesn’t take long for him to get to full hardness and he lets go of his cock to show you how it smacks against his stomach.

He is rock hard and leaking and the vein that winds up his cock is a lot more prominent now as the head of his cock is now a pretty flushed red color and shiny, so shiny.

“Fuck Koo you are so big.” You whimper as without warning you wrap your hand around his cock and his hips arch up into your touch as a broken moan spills from his lips.

“Can I?” You ask with a quirk of your eyebrow as he nods frantically and you snicker.

You take your time with him jerking him the way you saw him do to himself. You flick your wrist when you get to the top and you use your thumb to smear the precum over the head of his cock and his slit. He is so velvety and warm under your touch you let out a soft whine as you jerk him.

Jungkook is a mess below you. His chest is heaving, his muscles are straining and he is trying his best to hold back and not cum the second you get your hands on him.

“F-Fuck I hate to say this b-but ‘m close.” He whines in panic.

“Can you hold back a little longer so I can taste you?” You ask innocently as he bites his bottom lip and closes his eyes trying to take deep breaths and stop the incessant throbbing of his cock. His denied orgasm from earlier was making him needy and he needed to calm himself down before he made a mess all over your fist.

You lean down and slowly give the head of his cock kitten licks. Jungkook moans above you and you grin as you finally take him into your mouth.

Your mouth is hot and wet and everything Jungkook had ever wanted as you suck him down, bobbing your head and humming around him, causing vibrations to run up his shaft.

With your other hand, you jerk him, picking up speed as you suck him off and when your tongue flicks over his frenulum Jungkook is a goner.

He croaks out your name and holds back your hair as he cums down your throat. No warning could have pulled you off his cock as you swallow everything he has to give, slowing your strokes and milking his cock for all that he has.

“S-Sensitive. Fuck.” He whines out as you pull off and open your mouth to show him proudly that you swallowed it all.

“You are trying to kill me. Holy fuck.” He breathes out as you giggle and curl up next to him, lacing your fingers together and waiting for him to come down from his high.

You can feel the uncomfortable wetness between your thighs but you don’t worry about that now as you bury your face in his chest and listen to his breathing settle.

“I’m dead. Like I’m actually dead. No way that happened.” He pondered as you giggle and pinch his side

“Ouch! What was that for!” He cries out as you sit up and smirk at him.

“Dead people can’t feel pinches. You are very much alive.” You say smiling down at him as sits crisscrossed on the bed and stares at you.

“You-You jerked me off.” He says

“I did.” You reply with a smug smile.

“I- I imagined I was fingering you and suddenly you were here…jerking me off.” He wonders aloud.

“Mm, you fingering me. That’s hot,” you say feeling your pussy throb.

“But we were friends aren’t we?” He asks in a small timid voice.

“Friends can jerk each other off. Though... I would like to be more than friends.” You reply feeling your heart racing in your chest.

“Like…fuck buddies?” He replies as his tongue comes out to lick at his lips and you can’t help but laugh.

“I was thinking we could go on a date.”

His eyes bulge and his cheeks turn a beautiful dusty pink.

“I’ve liked you for years now Koo. I didn’t think you felt the same but walking in on you… moaning my name…. Fuck.” You say running a hand through your hair.

Jungkook doesn’t respond.

And for a breath, you are worried you read the whole thing wrong and fucked this friendship up.

But then he leans forward, tangles his hands in your hair, and kisses you.

And you kiss him right back.

The kiss is passionate and wild. You press your lips hard into his and pour out all those days and weeks and months of looking at him and wishing he was yours. Jungkook moans against your mouth which gives you access to swipe your tongue along his lower lip as he groans.

“Fuc-Fuck I feel the same way.” He mutters against you as he flips you over with ease and has you pinned to the bed.

You giggle when you look up and see him overtop of you, his eyes wide with disbelief and his lips red and swollen.

He swoops in and kisses you again as you run your hands down his strong back and arch up into his touch. His lips move with yours and you boldly wrap your legs around his back to push his crotch into yours making him grunt against your mouth.

“Let me make you feel good.” He groans as you nod.

Jungkook fixes the pillows behind your head and gets to work peppering kisses on your cheeks and down your neck causing you to arch up into his touch and moan.

You are beyond needy at this point and when he tugs at the straps of your dress to kiss at your shoulders you moan out his name and flutter your eyes closed.

His lips feel like heaven and when he finally had enough kissing he kneels above you and you open your eyes.

“I never thought this day would come. You in a sundress, laying in my bed. Fuck I’m the luckiest guy alive.” He says as you smile up at him with adoration.

Jungkook’s warm hands come to rest on your thighs and he slowly and carefully lifts up your dress to expose your body to him.

His eyes widen when he takes in the black bathing suit bottoms you picked out which are modest enough for the beach but have two tantalizing ties at the sides holding the material together.

“Thank god I got you in my bed. It would have been so difficult seeing you in these bottoms without getting hard.” He admits as his hand toys with the ties and when he finally unties them both and pulls the fabric off of your body you are panting below him.

You snicker when you see his cock bobbing between his legs at the sight of you and he wraps a hand around himself to stroke his cock to ease some of the ache.

“Hey, you already got your turn!” You tease as he releases his cock and grins sheepishly at you.

“May I?” He asks and you nod, sucking your bottom lip between your teeth as his fingers part your folds and he swears under his breath.

“Fucking soaked for me. Just like I imagined.”

He gathers your wetness and brings it up to your clit as he rubs you in slow circles causing you to arch off the bed and whine out his name.

Jungkook continues to circle your clit agonizingly slow and he snickers when you beg him for more.

“How are we going to have sex and make it to the beach if you're going this slow.” You say as his eyes widen and his movements halt.

“Koo.” You whine as you grab at his wrist to get him to do something…anything.

“You want to have sex?” He asks shyly as you stare down at him.

“I’d like to. Only if you want to though. I’m okay with this too.” You admit as you see his cock twitching between his legs again.

“I want to have sex with you.” He says as he pulls you in for another rough kiss and his hands return to your pussy with enthusiasm.

“Can I slip a finger inside? Gotta prep you for my cock.” He growls against your lips as you nod and he gathers more wetness on his middle finger before slipping it inside your tight wet heat.

You cry out his name and grab onto his bicep as he thrusts his finger in and out of your body. He wastes no time adding another finger and the stretch makes you whine but he is careful and takes his time until you are moaning again and begging him to move.

He scissors his fingers causing you to flutter your eyes closed and arch up into his touch. Your whole body is on fire and when he curls his fingers you feel every muscle in your body start to tense as you grind down on them desperate for more.

You blindly reach down for his cock which is now standing hard and proud and when you circle it Jungkook hisses and uses his free hand to swat yours away.

You open your eyes to frown at him but he curls his fingers up inside you again and you are seeing stars.

“I’ll cum if you jerk me off Y/N. I swear this is so hot I’m so fucking hard right now. Don’t wanna cum around your fist.” he explains as you grin.

“Then fuck me and cum inside me instead.” You offer as he removes his fingers and you open your eyes in time to see him pop them in his mouth.

You gasp as he licks your slick off his fingers moaning at the taste and your pussy throbs impatiently as he takes his time.

“Koo please.” You beg as he finally gets his fingers clean and he hops off the bed to retrieve a condom.

You watch as he rips open the packet and rolls the condom down his length. He strokes himself and whimpers, which makes you smile to know he is just as desperate as you are

“How do you want it?” He asks hovering above you, lips inches from your own.

“Doesn’t matter just want you.”

He carefully drags your body to the end of the bed and you giggle when he opens your legs and wraps them around his torso.

You stare up at him as he takes his time to tie back his hair.

“Koo. Don’t tease.” You whine impatiently as he finally gets his hair tied back and he grabs the base of his cock to position himself at your wet folds.

“I’m gonna be honest with you. I don’t know how long I’m gonna last.” He admits as he teases your slit with his cockhead soaking it in your wetness and you whine out in impatience.

“I don’t care about you lasting. Just fuck me already before I do it myself.” You beg as he finally slips his cockhead inside and in one smooth thrust he buries himself as deep inside of you as he can go.

You squeeze your eyes shut and wince at the stretch and Jungkook leans down to press soft kisses to your forehead and cheeks.

“Doing so well for me. Deep breaths now. So fucking tight around my cock. You are so wet for me. Fuck you feel heavenly.” He praises as he shallowly thrusts inside of you letting your body adjust to his girth and giving you all the time you need.

“Baby, are you already throbbing around me?” He teases as you open your eyes to playfully smack his arm and he shoots you his classic bunny smile.

“Sh-Shut up.” You plead as he begins to give you harder and deeper thrusts and your eyes roll to the back of your head.

He feels so good inside of you. The way his cock drags against your walls has you crying out his name and when he starts to really thrust deep you swear you can feel him in your stomach.

“Fu-Fuck Koo. Feel so good.” You cry out as he holds your legs steady and thrusts his cock inside you, arching his hips so he can hit your G-spot with every thrust.

“Wh-Why are you so good at this what the fuck?” You grit out as he chuckles above you and pushes your legs higher so he can hit deeper inside of you.

“Are you a-actually mad at me for being good at sex?” He taunts you as you decide to get back at him by squeezing his cock with your walls which makes him grunt and fuck you harder and faster.

“No, I’m m-mad we waited so long to do this. Fuck.”

Jungkook picks up speed on his thrusts all the while you are powerless on the bed as you take what he gives you. You claw at the bedspread and moan his name as you feel the coil of pleasure get tighter in your stomach and by the way Jungkook is thrusting you know he is close too.

“C-Close. Koo. Please. M-More.” You beg not even able to make a coherent sentence but lucky for you Jungkook knows what you mean as he brings a free hand down to rub at your clit and you cry out his name and grind down on his cock desperately trying to meet his thrusts and chase your ever building high.

Your whole body is on fire, everything is strung tight and you can feel your pussy start to spasm around his cock.

“C-Close.” You cry out in warning as he thrusts into you with such force it pushes you up the bed.

“Cum for me Y/N. Cum around my cock. Be a good girl and cum for me.” He demands and you lose it.

You arch up and close your eyes as you shout out his name and cum hard around his cock. You feel your walls clamp around him as Jungkok groans and throws his head back cumming hard into the condom as your walls keep his cock from thrusting inside of you.

Waves of pleasure roll off you both as Jungook releases your legs and slumps down over top of you keeping his cock inside until you are done riding out your high.

The only sounds in the room are both of your heavy breathing as he finally slips out and leaves to go get cleaned up.

You feel weightless as you lay on the bed and press a hand to your heart as you try to even out your breathing.

Jungkook comes back with water and a warm towel and takes his time opening your legs and cleaning you up as you stare at the ceiling in a post-sex haze.

He lays down beside you and you curl up into his chest as he strokes your hair and praises you for how well you did.

There is a welcome ache between your legs from how roughly he fucked you but you find you don’t mind too much as he wraps his arms around you caging you against his chest.

“That was incredible.” He says as you finally open your eyes to look at him.

His hair was coming out of its bun and tendrils were falling in front of his eyes. You reach up to push them away and smile. He was so handsome.

“That was very incredible holy shit we shouldn’t have waited so long.” You say as you both hear a noise outside and look up to see the sky had grown dark and a heavy rain was coming down.

“Oh shit.” You giggle as you both sit up and stare at the rainstorm outside.

“Guess no beach day for us.” He says smoothing down your hair as you lean in to kiss him softly.

“How about a movie day instead? I still brought snacks and drinks.” You say as he nods and carries you off the bed to the living room and you giggle the entire way.

Permanent taglist

@caught-in-the-afterglow

@hearteyes4hobi

@m00njinnie

@stayonmars

@marihoneywk

@mustbeaweasleyginger

@xmspurple7x

@taekritimin123

@lerasi

@dejaariana

[osarina]

ᡣ𐭩 HE'S THE SERPENTINE, HE'S MY COLLAR!

FEATURING: dazai osamu

SUMMARY: you're finally back in yokohama after spending three years abroad dealing with mori's foreign business. the last person you want is to see dazai osamu, the wounds of his abrupt betrayal still too fresh for comfort. unfortunately, he decides to take matters into his own hands by showing up at your office in the middle of the night.

(wordcount: 7.1k; ņsfw; fem!reader; port mafia executive!reader, f!receiving oral, gunplay, knife play (ish), spitting, pussy drunk!dazai (as always), light choking, overstim, office sex, semi-public/public sex, unprotected sex, switch!dazai, switch!reader, undertones of angst (happy ending). lmk if anything is missing!)

AUTHOR'S NOTES: guys. GUYS. i had so much fun writing this, this is finally usurping in paper rings and picture frames as my fav fic that i've written. HAHAHH. i hope you guys like it too!!

You hear the door to your office swing open, and you press your lips together tightly, irritation swimming through your head as your grip tightens on the pen you’re using to fill out your paperwork. It’s already late—you’re tired and your head hurts, but you can’t leave the building until Akutagawa comes to hand you the report for his failed mission so you can pass it up to the boss. And you know that whichever subordinate this is, it’s definitely not Akutagawa because the boy would rather claw his own throat out than walk into your office without knocking. 

Which means it’s some upstart new recruit who has no manners and is likely going to make your night worse. You think being away for so long did some real damage to your reputation—three years ago, the lower ranked mafiosos avoided your floor like the plague, they didn’t barge in like they owned the place, but then again, you also had a certain dark-haired executive (ex-executive now, you remind yourself bitterly) lurking around your floor constantly trying to get your attention, and if people weren’t nervous enough about you, they were definitely terrified of him.

“Five seconds to explain why you came into my office without knocking or I’m putting a bullet through your fucking skull,” you say, voice acerbic, not even bothering to look up, the fingers of your free hand closing around the gun you have holstered at your side. 

“There’s a few too many cameras in the hall for my liking to stand out there and wait for you to open the door.”

The fact that he manages to dodge the bullet shot in his direction is testament to his skill, but you’ve known Dazai Osamu long enough to know that when he dodges to the side, nine times out of ten, he dodges left, so you drop your pen as soon as you pull the trigger and swipe the knife laying haphazardly on your desk, launching it in his direction. You watch as his eyes widen just a bit when it impales the wall right next to his ear, just barely nicking his skin—both a warning and a threat.

“My, my, bella, you’ve gotten faster the past few years,” Dazai grins, unperturbed, smile as reckless and lazy as the day he left four years ago as he plucks the knife from the wall. “I’ve missed you too.”

“What the hell are you doing here, Dazai?” you ask, voice cold and sharp as your finger rests against the trigger of your gun. “How did you get up here?”

“Security’s gotten lax since I’ve been gone, I guess,” Dazai shrugs, but his eyes dance with mirth as he makes his way over to your desk. “You should probably do something about that.”

“Dazai,” you say, keeping your voice low and trying to reign in your temper. There are no cameras in your office, but the hall leading here is littered with them, hidden ones that were recently installed that he wouldn’t know about, if any one of them caught his face and it’s reported to Mori… “You think I won’t drag your ass to Mori myself? What the fuck are you doing?”

You’d have to, or it would be your head on the line for betraying the Port Mafia—you know better than anyone the treatment that traitors get, considering you were the one that dealt with them up until you were sent abroad three years ago to handle Mori’s foreign politics. 

“I don’t know, will you?” Dazai counters, head tilted to the side as he takes a seat on top of your desk next to you, a smile on his face that makes you think he knows something that you don’t.

“Maybe,” you answer, finger twitching on the trigger as you keep your gun pointed in his direction. 

Dazai is completely unbothered, leaning down until his nose is nearly brushing yours, lips tugged up in an unbearable smirk. 

“Then do it,” he challenges, and you glare at him, jaw tight and eyes hard. He reaches out, fingertips brushing your skin, and you feel like you’re on fire beneath his touch. You hate that your body still betrays you to him. “Don’t look at me like that, bella. I won’t even resist, I promise, as long as you promise to be the one to put a bullet through my skull, so your face can be the last thing I see. Ah, that would be a lovely death, wouldn’t it?” 

“You’re a fucking freak, Dazai,” you spit out, but make no move to get up or grab your phone. “What is wrong with you?”

Dazai doesn’t respond, only winking at you. Instead, his gaze shifts to the side and his hand drops from your face to his lap again. You hate even more that you miss his touch immediately. 

“You still have my couch,” Dazai notes to himself quietly, an odd tone to his voice as he stares at the dark couch in the far corner of your office, where he’d bundle himself up under blankets to avoid Chuuya, because Chuuya used to avoid your office like the plague when the three of you were younger.

“It’s my couch,” you say tightly, even though you know no one has touched it since Dazai left, and the ugly orange blanket he liked so much is still draped over the back of it, and it probably still smells like him. Your throat feels swollen, and you steel away your emotions and continue with, “I’ve hardly been back here since you left, anyway. What do you want, Dazai?”

“I heard you were finally back in Yokohama,” he says. “I wanted to see you.”

“Fuck off,” you say roughly. “So you decide to break into the main base of the Port Mafia and come all the way up to my office? You know where my apartment is, you could’ve shown up there. What do you really want?” 

“It’s the truth,” Dazai says easily, and his dark eyes meet yours—both of them, you note, and wonder when he decided to shed the bandages that covered his right eye. “I was at your apartment for a bit, I got impatient and came here instead.”

He’s telling the truth.

Oh, you realize—the clogged feeling in your throat is coming back, you force it away again and lean back in your chair, looking away from him to turn your gaze to the window. It’s well past midnight already, the moon is high in the sky and the stars are glittering above. In the distance, you can see the Ferris Wheel of Cosmo World glowing a bright purple color and a string of flashing red and blue lights as the police chase after someone.

“Why?” you ask finally, breaking the heavy silence that had settled over the two of you. 

“I told you,” Dazai says quietly, and your eyes turn back to him. He looks… happier, you can’t help but note. A sick part of you feels jealous—you’re not sure if you’re jealous because he’s free and you’re still stuck in this place, or if you’re jealous because he’s happier and he’s happier in a life without you. You think it might be the latter. “I miss you.”

“Don’t give me bullshit, Dazai,” you snap, still trying to push away all of the feelings you’ve repressed for so long. “Get out of here before you find yourself killed. I’m not going to turn you in, but I’m not saving you if you get caught.”

“It’s not bullshit,” Dazai tells you, voice sharp in a way that it only ever is when he’s starting to get annoyed. “I-”

A knock at your door cuts Dazai off mid-sentence. Both of you freeze, Dazai looks at you as if waiting to see what you’re going to do, and you can so easily finish this now, let whoever is at your door in and drag Dazai back down to the torture room where he belongs, but instead you find yourself reaching for him. Your hand intertwines with his hair roughly, and you revel a bit in the hiss that escapes his lips as you yank him off the desk and roll your chair backward, kicking the back of his knee so that he crumples to the ground and you can push him beneath your desk. 

You lower your gun to your lap so you can keep it pointed at him and then glance down at him—he looks caught off-guard and disgruntled at being manhandled, but you think it's a bit funny how cramped he looks under there. 

“Not a single word,” you warn before fixing your chair and raising your voice. “Come in.”

Akutagawa wastes no time stepping into your office, nodding his head in respect as he makes his way over to the chair on the opposite side of your desk, a bundle of papers in hand. He doesn’t hand you the pile right away and he looks uncharacteristically nervous, and you raise your eyebrows, wondering what the issue is. 

“I am… unsure how to fill out some of the report,” Akutagawa says, unable to meet your eyes as he stares at the windows behind you. “The operation was… not a failure but not a success. The whole mission was in disarray, I do not know who was doing what at certain points.”

You stare at Akutagawa. “What do you want me to say to that?” you ask him, leaning back in your chair. “It’s your job to know that as the field officer for the mission. If you can’t handle that, Hirotsu will take back the position on the next major operation.”

Akutagawa bristles. “I can handle it,” he says, voice clipped. “This mission was just more chaotic than-”

“Than usual?” you ask idly, watching as he stiffens as your interruption. “This was child’s play, it’s unlike you to make excuses, Akutagawa.’

“I’m not making excuses,” he says immediately, “but…”

Akutagawa continues talking, but your attention is ripped away when you feel Dazai shift beneath the desk. You press your lips together tightly, stiffening as his hands rise to your thighs, spreading them a bit so he can settle between them. You glance down, he’s already peeking up at you, dark eyes glittering in a way that has you on edge. 

Don’t you dare, you warn silently, but Dazai only takes it as further encouragement, pressing his lips to your clothed inner thigh, you can feel the warmth and wetness through your slacks. It takes all of your self-control to not inhale sharply when he starts trailing open-mouthed kisses up your thigh until his mouth is hovering right above your cunt. 

You press the muzzle of your gun against his temple. 

He smiles. 

Your jaw clenches as he licks a long stripe between your legs through your slacks, making sure to press his tongue down hard over where your clit is hidden through your clothes. Akutagawa is still talking, oblivious to what’s happening beneath your desk as he airs his complaints about the mission. You could stop Dazai, place your foot on his shoulder and push him off of you, but you don’t, notably—you don’t want to acknowledge that though. You only vaguely hear Akutagawa’s issues, something about interference from a third party—the SDUP? What the hell were they doing there?— and Kajii blowing up an escape route. 

“Give me the report,” you say, cutting him off mid-sentence, and holding out your hand. You’re grateful that your voice comes out steadier than you feel with Dazai trying to tongue fuck your through your pants. 

As you lean forward to rip the papers from Akutagawa, you tense, feeling something sharp press against your inner thigh. Sitting back in your seat and glancing down, your eyes cut down to Dazai, who still has the knife you’d thrown at him and is using it to cut open your very expensive slacks.

You have half a mind to drive your foot into his face, but you refrain. If only barely.

It’s a miracle that you can keep your breath steady, because as Dazai cuts your pants, he kisses every inch of open skin that’s revealed to him. His lips are warm, wet, familiar—so familiar that your legs are instinctively spreading for him, giving him more room to work.

Your eyes scan the report but the words are just jumbled letters and not making any sense. Every time you try to understand, you feel Dazai’s teeth graze your thigh as he marks up your skin. You tense when you feel him bring the knife much closer to your cunt, to finish cutting off the material—you press the muzzle of your gun harder into the side of his head, warning him to be careful. You glance down only to see a hazy smile on his lips as he winks up at you, as if he’s drunk just off of the idea of what’s about to happen.

He works efficiently as always, freeing your lower body of your slacks and panties as quickly as possible, and he wastes no time burying his face between your legs. Your lashes flutter and the grip you have on your pen tightens dangerously, you think it might snap. Dazai’s tongue slides between your folds, lapping up the slick that had begun to pool—you know that if Akutagawa wasn’t sitting a few feet away, Dazai would be making a snide comment about how he knew you wanted him.

Dazai’s tongue flicks over your clit—you can feel him staring up at you, watching for every little reaction, the way your lip tightens as you bite back moans, the way your eyelids unconsciously start to slide shut, the way your breath is just a bit heavier than it usually is. 

This is so dangerous, you think to yourself desperately. If Akutagawa of all people figures out that Dazai is here-

You nearly choke when Dazai shifts a bit underneath the desk to kneel at a better angle, grateful that Akutagawa seems to be too busy wallowing in his own mistakes to notice your struggle. Your gaze  snaps down again, his eyes have fluttered shut as he buries his face deep into your cunt, nose pressed to your clit as he pushes his tongue into your hole and you can feel the way he lets out a silent, but shaky breath, barely holding back a moan.

You notice his free hand slide from where it was propped on your thigh down to his beige pants, fingers fumbling with the button as he desperately tries to slip his hand beneath his waistband to touch himself. You kick his wrist hard, using your foot to pin it against the side of your desk, watching him wince and withdraw his hand, looking up at you with those big brown eyes you can never say no to. 

God, he’s pathetic, his lashes are wet and his cheeks are flushed, eyes glossed over with pleasure as he looks up at you and you know you’ll let go of his wrist if he looks at you like that any longer, so you turn your gaze back up to Akutagawa, who’s staring at his lap and waiting for you to finish the report.

“Get out,” you tell him, voice sharper than you intended. Akutagawa’s eyes snap up to you, brows furrowed in confusion. “Go, I’ll handle this.”

“But-”

“Your job is to take orders, not question them,” you bite out, watching frustration flash across the boy’s face as he rises to his feet. You’re not usually this harsh with the kid, but you’re not sure how much longer you’re going to last and Akutagawa cannot be in here when you cum. You can feel the heat pooling in your stomach and that familiar hazy feeling clouding your mind. “Out, Akutagawa.”

Akutagawa inhales sharply but nods, turning stiffly on his heel to leave your office. As soon as the door to your office clicks shut, Dazai is pushing the chair backwards until the back of it hits the windows behind you, shifting into a more comfortable position as he resumes fucking you with his tongue in earnest. 

He moans into you, wanton and shameless, any restraint he had because of Akutagawa’s presence is long gone. While he was careful to not make noise before, now the sloppy sound of his tongue dragging in and out of your cunt drowns out any other noise in your office, he sucks and slurps, he’s so disgusting, like he can’t get enough of the taste of you, a man who’s been starved for years.

The knife clatters to the ground as he reaches up with both hands to grab your thighs, sliding them over his shoulders so he can push his tongue even deeper inside of you. Only sheer pride drives you to push away the creeping fog as Dazai’s tongue slides back up between your folds to draw figure eights around your clit.

“I should pull the fucking trigger, pulling this shit when he was in here,” you spit out, head falling back as a breathy noise escapes your parted lips when Dazai sucks gently at your clit. He moans again, as if the idea itself turns him on—it probably does, he’s always talked about wanting to die between your thighs. “You’re a fucking freak, Dazai.” 

He lets out a puff of air, you can’t tell if it's a laugh or another moan, maybe a mixture of both, but he’s too focused on drowning in your cunt to respond. Four years without him and you’ve forgotten just how good Dazai is with his tongue, working your body as easily as he did when the two of you were eighteen and seeking each other out before meetings and between missions for a quick fuck. You hate it—you hate that he’s treating you as if nothing has changed and you hate even more that your body is this responsive to him. 

Betrayal, you think, your own body betrays you for him. Again.

“Fuck,” you gasp the word out when Dazai rolls your clit between his teeth gently, sending a jolt through your body that throws you off just enough for that fog you’ve been fighting off to finally win. You choke over a moan, head pressed back against your desk chair, forearm coming up to press against your forehead as your eyes slide shut. Your free hand finally finds its place in his hair, tightening around his dark locks, he lets out a whimper against you, tongue flicking over your clit. “Like that. Just like that.”

You can hardly keep your head on straight as he traces letters around the sensitive bud, you try to figure out what he’s spelling but you’re too far gone. Your head is light and your chest is heaving. You’re barely able to bite back moans as your thighs tighten around his head, hips rocking against his face. You don’t even know if he can breathe, you don’t think you care, so close to the edge that your entire body is tingling and trembling; you don’t think he cares either from the way he’s moaning into you.

It takes one last suck, one last swirl around your clit, and you’re crying out his name, spots dotting your vision as your grip on his hair tightens, pushing his face impossibly deeper into you as you grind your hips against his face. God, it feels never-ending, a noise too close to a sob nearly escapes your lips as Dazai ardently laps up all of your cum, not letting a single drop go to waste. You can’t remember the last time you’ve cum this hard—with him, probably, you realize bitterly. None of the one-night stands you’ve had over the past few years have ever compared to him.

You’re still reeling even as you force yourself to straighten in your seat, not willing to let him know just how badly you’re thrown off by how intense your orgasm was. Your head is still spinning, vision still blurring, but you lift your leg and press your foot to Dazai’s shoulder, kicking him back and forcing him out from his position between your thighs. 

He grunts, looking thoroughly disgruntled as he falls back on his ass, pouting up at you as he tries to catch his breath. He looks debauched, lips swollen and wet, your cum smeared on the lower half of his face. His cock is straining against his beige pants and his eyes are still glazed over; he’s looking up at you with an expression that’s nothing short of reverent. 

God, he’s gorgeous. 

You hate him. 

You’ve missed him. 

You shift in your seat and Dazai is lifting himself to his knees, immediately leaning closer, a hazy smile on his lips as he angles his face up and pointedly parts his lips, sticking his tongue out. You know what he wants and the heat that had been slowly dissipating returns with a vengeance, breath catching as you look down at him.

“You’re gross,” you tell him, watching the corner of his lips quirk up even as he keeps his tongue out and waiting.

You don’t deny him. You never can. 

You shift forward, rising to your feet and reaching out to grab his chin, angling your face down. Your grip is too tight, it’ll leave bruises behind and you think that’s the least he deserves so you only tighten it a bit more as you lean over him. You don’t give him what he wants, not right away, letting the saliva gather on your tongue as you observe him, the way his pupils are blown wide and his chest is hardly rising and falling, as if he can’t even let himself breathe in anticipation.

Disgusting, you think again, but it’s fond this time, much to your displeasure.

You decide to put him out of his misery, letting the spit dribble from your mouth down to his. His eyes roll back as soon as it hits his tongue, and your hand slides from his chin to curl around his neck—not tight, just firm enough to feel the way his throat bobs as he swallows.

He lets out a shaky breath, eyes fluttering back open as he looks up at you, entirely blissed out. Your hand slides down more, curling around the ugly bolo tie he’s wearing in place of the black one you’re used to. You tug it hard, beckoning him to his feet; he acquiesces, albeit on shaky legs. 

Immediately, his hands find your hips as he pushes you against your desk, spinning you around to face it before his hand presses between your shoulder blades, pushing you down to bend you over it. Your eyes widen at the sudden change in demeanor, something you’ll never be able to get used to no matter how many times you fuck him; it always caught you off guard back then, it still catches you off guard now. He pulls off the remnants of your destroyed slacks and immediately is grinding his bulge against your ass, a low moan spilling from his lips. 

“How many people have you been with?” he suddenly asks, and you can hear him fumbling to unbutton his own pants. There’s an edge to his voice that you don’t like—something caught between jealousy and possessiveness, and you nearly want to scoff at it.

“What the fuck, Dazai?” you spit out, appalled and not expecting the question. “None of your damn business.” 

You turn your head to the side to rest your cheek on the desk, looking back at him from the corner of your eye. His eyes are still a bit hazy but there’s a tight expression on his face, reminiscent of the one that would be directed toward you whenever he stumbled in on you entertaining anyone other than him years ago. 

“Humor me,” he says, voice cold and eerily familiar. If you weren’t looking at him and if you couldn’t see the tan coat and bolo tie, you’d think you were talking to Dazai Osamu, Port Mafia Executive, and not Dazai Osamu, Detective. 

“A lot,” you finally tell him, feeling the way he stiffens behind you. “I don’t keep count. You?” 

You think he has some nerve asking when he’s probably slept around t-

“None.”

“Bullshit,” you snarl immediately. “How many? Don’t fucking lie to me, Dazai.”

“None,” he says again, gaze lifting from your back to meet yours, his eyes are dark—too dark, too still. Maybe he hasn’t changed as much as you assumed, because the way your chest swells with a confusing mixture of fear and arousal is far too familiar. “You’re the only one allowed to touch me.”

His gaze drags back down, with his pants unbuttoned, he lifts his free hand to caress the swell of your ass, a contemplative expression on his face as he stares down at you, his other hand still pinning you down to your desk. If your heart wasn’t thudding in your ears from sheer anticipation, you’d be irate over the fact that you were letting Dazai Osamu fuck you over your own desk in your own office, but you can’t bring yourself to care now.

“They never made you feel like this.” It’s a statement, not a question, and you want to scoff at his arrogance, but you can’t because he’s right. “They don’t know your body like I do.”

This time you do scoff. “You don’t know shit, Dazai. It’s been four years.”

Dazai’s eyes flicker back up to you, the way his lips curve up into a smile is dangerous.

“No?” he questions. 

A challenge. You never back down from one, not from him. 

“No.”

His smile sharpens.

“I know that after you cum for the first time,” he murmurs, rolling his hips forward. You bite back a moan when you feel the tip of his cock slip between your folds. “The second time comes right after.”

True to his words, your jaw falls slack and your entire body seizes as Dazai thrusts into you, splitting you right open on his cock. The moan he lets out is pornographic, and you wish you could see the way his head falls back and his eyes roll into his skull, but your own vision is white and you’re choking over a sob as you feel the familiar stretch of his cock against your walls.

“There you are.” Dazai has the nerve to let out a breathless laugh and another groan as he stills with his hips flush to your ass, feeling your walls spasm around him as you cum just from the feeling of him pushing inside of you. The hand he has placed between your shoulder blades slides up to curl around your throat. With a firm grip, he pulls you up so only your thighs are pressed against the edge of your desk, back flush to his chest as you gasp, reeling from the suddenness of your second orgasm. You can feel him smile as he nudges his nose against the side of your head, lips pressed to your ear. “The third time takes a bit after the second, but I’ll fuck you through it. Maybe a fourth too.”

“Dazai,” you gasp, eyes blown wide as your head falls back against his shoulder. You don’t know what you’re trying to say, maybe hold on, or wait, because you know you’ll embarrass yourself if he doesn’t give you a second to recover.

He hums in response, and the slow rolls of his hips, the drag of his cock against your walls, it has your head in the clouds, body trembling. Your lips part to speak but no words leave them, and right when you think you can finally force the words out, Dazai draws his hips back and snaps them back against yours hard. Your lips part in a silent moan, only the hand around your throat and the one pressed to your lower belly holds you up as Dazai fucks you at a brutal pace. 

His face drops to the crook of your neck, he moans into your skin, teeth scraping hard as he kisses recklessly up and down every available inch. He’s going to leave marks, you realize, and that’s dangerous now that you’re back in Yokohama because you don’t need any of the other executives to get suspicious, but even if you wanted to tell him not to, you don’t think you’d be able to. Whatever little coherency you had left in your thought process does not translate when you try to speak, the only things leaving your lips being shaky moans and gasps of Dazai’s name.

“Made for me,” Dazai groans. His grip on your throat tightens just enough to make the air you breathe in shallow, your head feels light and you’re not sure if it’s because of his grip or if it’s the feeling of his cock bullying so deep into you that you can feel his tip pressing up against your cervix. “Waited so many years for this, feels even better than I remember, pussy’s made for me, isn’t it?”

Dazai babbles into your ear as he fucks you, tongue just as filthy and unbridled as the day he left. Shameless. He’s so shameless. Doesn’t even care that anyone could walk into your office and catch the two of you; doesn’t care that if anyone does, he’ll end up executed. He’s fucking you in a building full of people that want him dead and all he cares about is how your cunt feels wrapped around his cock.

Your breath hitches as Dazai shifts you to bend over just a little more, still keeping your back flush to his chest but fucking you at a new angle—one that nearly sends you spiraling over the edge for a third time. 

“Gonna give me your third now?” he pants. His hand on your lower stomach slips down, lithe fingers dipping between your folds to search for your clit—your back arches against him when he finds it, a sob spilling from your lips, vision swimming with tears. Dazai laughs again, this one is strained, catching over a moan as your walls convulse around him. “Oh, fuck. Fuck, you’re so tight.” 

Unconsciously, his grip on your throat tightens, cutting off even more air. You can hardly breathe, you can hardly think—each thrust of his hips has your head spinning, ripping the little air you can inhale right out of your lungs. The tip of his cock rubs against that spongy spot inside of you every time he snaps his hips against yours, the quick circles he rubs on your clit are electrifying. 

Your cheeks are wet, breath ragged, vision spotty. One last thrust, one last circle, and you’re wrecked, sobbing out his name as your legs give out, only held up by the way he has your thighs pinned to your desk and his hand on your neck. You cum all over his cock so hard that you think you black out for a second, your mind fuzzy and pins and needles pricking all over your body.

Dazai doesn’t stop. He fucks you through your third orgasm, relishing in the way your body twitches and trembles, too sensitive for his touch. 

“Your fourth will come quick,” he gasps. His pace is erratic now, chasing his own release. Your ears are ringing, heartbeat thudding in your ears, the wet, sloppy sound of his cock driving in and out of you resounding through your office. “I don’t think I’ll last for five. Shit, shit, I’m close.”

You have to force yourself to move. You want to see him when he finishes. Your hand wraps around his wrist, nails digging into his skin to try to get his attention. It takes all of your will power to push the two words from your lips: “Flip me.”

He does. Without any sort of hesitation, his hand drops from your throat to your waist. His cock slips out of you for a split second and your cunt aches at the loss, but Dazai is immediately pushing himself back into you as he hoists you up by the thighs, sitting you down on your desk and wrapping your legs around his waist. 

Even through your blurry vision, Dazai is a fucking sight. His dark hair is matted to his forehead, pink lips swollen and wet, cheeks flushed. His eyes glazed over and half rolled back as he chases his high. God, he’s stunning. You’ve missed him. You’ve missed him.

You’re not thinking as you lift your hand to cup his cheek, sliding around to the back of his head to pull his face down to yours, moving on pure instinct. You drag him down to press your lips against his and Dazai is gone. The moment your lips touch his, he’s moaning into your mouth, hips stuttering against you as he spills his cum deep inside of you, and he’s right, because the moment you feel his cum filling you up, warm and thick, so much of it that you can feel it dribbling around his cock, the stickiness smearing against your thighs and ruining your desk, you’re pushed over the edge for the fourth time.

This one is weaker than the rest, not a single noise escapes you but your jaw goes slack and Dazai whimpers into your mouth when he feels your walls tightening around him again. But he takes advantage of your pliancy, pushing you back gently so that your back is flush to your desk. He follows you down, keeping his chest pressed to yours as he maps out your mouth with his tongue. He rolls his hips against yours, slow and deep, fucking his cum deeper into you as the two of you slowly come down from your highs. He slants his lips against yours to deepen the kiss, hand coming up to cup your cheek, his other sliding up and down one of your thighs. 

It’s too intimate. You tell yourself that you only let it happen because you’re reeling from overstimulation but you know it's a lie.

You don’t even know how long you stay in that position with him. It could only be a few seconds, a few minutes, it could’ve been an hour for all you know, laying on your desk with him pressed on top of you, kissing you so passionately that it makes your head spin as much as the orgasms did. 

Finally, you press your hand against his shoulder, signaling for him to get off of you. He does, albeit with a reluctant sigh. You stare up at the ceiling as Dazai shakily rebuttons his pants, making his way over to the closet where you still keep your spare clothes from when you have to stay over at the office to work. 

What did you do?

You’re hyper aware of how swollen your lips are, of the marks littering your neck, of the cum dribbling out of your cunt, staining your desk. 

If anyone finds out about this-

You don’t get to finish the thought, because Dazai comes back over to you. Neither of you speak as he takes a tissue to clean up his cum from your thighs and as it dribbles out of you, nor do you speak when he shifts you into a sitting position, helping you pull on a new pair of panties and a new pair of slacks.

He stands in front of you, dozens of indecipherable emotions rocketing across his face as his dark eyes search your expression for something. You don’t know what, and you don’t even want to look at him but you can’t draw your gaze away from him.

After what feels like forever, he finally speaks.

“I missed you,” he says, voice hoarse as he lifts a hand to cup your cheek. 

You turn away from his touch, ignoring the hurt that flashes through his eyes. 

“Why don’t you believe me? You think four years has changed how I feel about you? I thought you knew me better than that.”

“It’s been four years,” you say, and you hate that your voice wavers a bit. You blame it on still being hazy after your orgasm but you know it’s a weak excuse. You hate that he still has this effect on you after all these years. You hate that you always give into him, and you hate that you know you’ll never get enough of him. You want to hate him, but you can’t. “Knowing how to fuck me isn’t the same as knowing me as a person. I barely know you anymore. You barely know me. And it’s not like you were open with how you felt four years ago. So, forgive me if it’s a bit hard to believe, Dazai.”

“You wear the same perfume. You still shoot with your non-dominant hand for some god forsaken reason. Your lips still twitch whenever you get annoyed even though you do your best to stop it. You-”

“Stop.”

“You still talk to me like you hate me even though your eyes are all soft and you’re leaning in toward me.” Dazai doesn’t stop, and to your horror, he’s right—you had begun to lean in to him instinctively as he spoke. You try to shift away from him, but he follows, fingers grazing your cheek, chest brushing yours. You don’t pull away this time. “I still wear the same cologne you bought me for Christmas because it reminds me of you—I spent two months trying to figure out where you bought it when it first ran out. I don’t carry a gun around as often, but when I do, I still try to do that stupid flipping trick you tried to teach me when we were seventeen—I still can’t do it, almost shot myself in the knee last time I tried.”

The laugh he lets out at the last sentence is hollow. He hesitates, as if he wants to continue but isn’t sure if he should. You can feel his blunt nails scraping gently against your skin, his palm warm against your cheek. You want to pull away but you’ve missed him, no matter how much you try to convince yourself otherwise, and you find yourself sinking into his touch. You’ve always questioned why Mori sent you away for so long, angry because you figured he thought you were weak when it comes to Dazai and he didn’t want to risk anything. 

Only a few days back in Yokohama, and you’re already proving him right.

“I’m not the same person,” you tell him, something desperate edges at your tone. Desperate to convince him, or yourself, you’re not sure.

“I still love you,” he rasps, voice quiet as if he’s scared to admit it even to himself, and your heart is suddenly lodged in your throat as you stare up at him with wide eyes, the words he refused to tell you back when you were teens ringing through your head over and over again. “I’ve always loved you. Thought about you every day. I missed you so much.”

“I should hate you,” you say, swallowing thickly, unshed tears blurring your vision. “You didn’t even say goodbye. When Mori said you defected in the middle of a mission, I laughed in his face. Not because I didn’t think you’d never betray the Port Mafia, but because I didn’t think you’d ever leave me without saying anything.”

“If I said goodbye to you, I never would have left,” Dazai tells you quietly, the admission echoing in your years. “And I had to leave. I had to.”

“I should hate you,” you repeat, voice a bit weaker now, and you feel pathetic for falling apart like this in front of him. But it’s Dazai, he’s always had this effect over you. You suppose some things haven’t changed, because that certainly hasn’t. 

“I know,” he murmurs. 

You inhale deeply, shaking your head as you push yourself off your desk and straighten out your clothes, trying to get your head back on straight. You should’ve known better than to think you’d be able to come back to Yokohama and pretend that Dazai Osamu didn’t exist, for better or for worse, the two of you would always find your way back to each other. Mori was right to send you away, although you suppose the man is rarely wrong anyway.

Dazai doesn’t say anything, watching you with an unreadable expression as you search through the ruined piles of paper on your desk for the report that Akutagawa had handed you. Your eye twitches when you realize that it’s stained, realizing that you’re going to have to rewrite the whole thing because you can’t submit a cum-stained report to Mori.

Dazai snorts behind you, as if realizing your predicament. The look you give him is lethal, he silences himself quickly. 

“Don’t get yourself killed on the way out,” you tell him, grabbing your black jacket off your chair and swinging it over your shoulders as you look back at him. “If you make it out of here alive, I’ll see you at my apartment later. Then we can talk.”

His face twists. “What? Wait, don’t leave me here,” he panics, nearly tripping over his feet and your desk chair to follow after you. “Help me sneak out.”

“You got in here yourself,” you say dismissively. “Get out yourself.”

The noise he lets out is pathetic. “You do hate me,” he accuses. 

“No, I could never,” you admit quietly. His expression softens a bit, but you give him a sharp smile. “But I’m definitely not going to make things easy for you. Akutagawa is still out here prowling around. So is Chuuya, actually. Said he’d be at the office all night today. Good luck, you’re gonna need it.”

[euphorajeon]

trippin' over, gettin' lost on you | jjk (m)

— pairing: jk x f. reader

— genre: fluff, smut | college au, slight coffee shop au (?)

— word count: 12.4k

— warnings: pov change after the first part (its kinda obvious.. i hope), sleeveless jk, jealous jk, like really jealous, side character yoongi, cameo jimin and hoseok, they work tgt in a coffee shop, boxer!jk is back to his nature (he's boxing again, at last), cocky jk (but he's hot so its ok), usual banter between jk and oc, also banter between oc and jimin, mentions of cuts and bruises from boxing, references to the movie Real Steel, uhh what else i dont rmb anything else this thing is GIANT for me, smut in the form of: kissing, marking (hickeys), making out, an attempt at dirty talk, dry humping, cumming in pants, hint at unprotected penetrative sex at the end (don't do this!). [pls lmk if i missed smth]

— summary: a visit to the coffee shop you work at rewards jeongguk not only with a cup of coffee and a plate of brownie, but also with something else simmering deep in his veins. a challenge is issued, and all hell breaks loose.

— author's note: okay first of all full disclosure i started this in sept 2022 and just finished it today ^_^ i tried to edit it as best as i could, so if you see any mistakes, pls kindly... ignore... thank you... ^_^ that aside, i also feel the need to disclose that this is only my second time attempting to write smut so pls.. be kind.. hehe. okay! i hope you enjoy this absolute giant baby of mine!!

masterlist | boxer!gguk masterlist

There’s an advantage to knowing someone for years. Jeon Jeongguk can attest to this fact from first-hand experiences he’d had with you throughout the many years you both have known each other. He’s seen you cry after you almost drowned when you were ten and you’ve seen him throw up his breakfast after drinking skimmed milk when he was twelve, where both life-threatening experiences had been deemed not serious by young-you and young-Jeongguk who used both experiences as means to roast each other. (Though growing up, your hands automatically grabbed the whole milk carton when grocery shopping with him and he’s never let you go within a five-meter radius of a swimming pool without his supervision.)

Years of friendship with you has also given him the advantage of being familiar with your likes and dislikes, from trivial ones like how you don’t drink coffee because it upsets your stomach to more serious ones like the type of boys you would date in your teen years. He’s never had a problem with the former, instead using it as another mean to annoy you (“You can’t drink coffee? What are you? A child?”), but the latter had always bugged him for reasons unknown prior to his big epiphany a little over a year ago. (Spoiler alert: it was the first time he came home with piercings on his eyebrow and lower lip, when he tempted you into kissing him stupid.)

Now he’s confident that the type of a boy you’d date would be someone who is handsome, tall, has a great smile and tattooed bulging biceps on the side. Add a lip piercing (and a fake tongue one!) as well and he’s sure you’re never going to look at other boys ever again. If you do, well, he’d just make the piercing on his tongue a permanent one, even though that means he wouldn’t be able to kiss you for weeks after. But as said earlier, he’s confident that you only have eyes for him alone.

With that same confidence, Jeongguk struts through the glass door of the coffee shop you’re working at for the summer, going up to the counter with a grin painted on his features. Said grin goes unnoticed by you, though, as you’re busy taking the order of the person in front of him. His lips stay tilted upwards as he watches you work, writing the customer’s name on the cup with your big, round, cute handwriting. Only when you’re done taking the order and the customer’s cup has been given to your coworker do you notice his presence, eyes lighting up at the sight of him.

“Hi, what can I get you today?” you greet him in your customer-service voice and smile like you do any other customer that has come before him. Jeongguk gives you an amused smile, making you chuckle as you key in his order even before he says it himself. He eyes the small screen in front of him that displays his usual choice of beverage, making a sound to stop you from ringing him up.

“Actually,” he says when you hum in question, “could you add milk to that? Make it a latte?”

“You want a latte?” you emphasize the last word, making sure you didn’t hear him wrong. “Like, with milk and foam on top?”

“Uh-huh,” Jeongguk confirms, leaning his elbows on the counter to stare at you as you change his order from an americano to a latte. “Can I also order you on the side? Look too good not to be devoured,” he adds, a sleazy smirk on his lips.

You scrunch up your face at his innuendo, his words hard to believe when you’re wearing a murky brown apron and a matching cap on your head. “I’m adding a brownie,” you deadpan. “That would be seven dollars.”

“You don’t want anything?” Jeongguk asks as he straightens up, hand reaching for his wallet to take out his credit card. “No coffee though, babe.”

“Nope, I’m good,” you answer as you accept the card Jeongguk hands you, swiping it through the card reader. “Yoongi said I can try the new menu in large for free! I’m saving calories for that so no sugar allowed for now.”

His forehead creases upon hearing the new name. “Yoongi? Who’s Yoongi?”

“Him,” you tilt your head towards a mint-haired guy who’s busy making all the drinks, hands skillfully moving from one cup to another. It’s a wonder how he doesn’t spill even a drop of liquid. “I’ll introduce you later but now you have to move, there’s a line. Shoo.”

Jeongguk gives you a playful pout as a protest but complies with your request to move, sliding down to the pick up counter as you greet the next customer in line. There are two people lined up after him, barely a line like you made it sound like, but he figures because it’s an hour before closing that you consider any amount above one person a line. He also notices that you and the mint guy (Yoongi, was it?) are the only ones manning the counter, so it’s not like you have any spare time to deal with him given the amount of work that has to be done.

“An iced latte and brownie for Jeongguk!” Mint guy shouts as he slides the drink and dessert on the counter, lingering for a second when he sees Jeongguk’s hands reaching for his order. Mint guy’s gaze trails up his arms to his face, eyes meeting Jeongguk’s confused ones. Recognition bleeds into his cat-like eyes as his mouth forms into an O shape.

“Kiddo’s boyfriend?”

The low baritone of his voice is unexpected, though that’s not the only thing throwing Jeongguk for a loop. ‘Kiddo’? He has a nickname for you??

Mint guy—Yoongi!—doesn’t take his lack of response personally, instead opting to turn around and talk to you who have just finished taking orders from the customers. Jeongguk can’t hear what words you and Yoongi are throwing around, but from the way you glance at him, it looks like the mint-haired guy is just trying to confirm the answer to his two-worded question directed at Jeongguk earlier.

Your response to Yoongi’s inquiry makes the guy give you double pats on your cap-covered head, triggering a laugh to come out of both of you. While Yoongi’s laugh looks like he’s teasing you good-naturedly, yours looks like a shy one if the pink dusting your cheeks are any indication. It prompts a scowl to appear on Jeongguk’s handsome visage, furrowed brows and clenched jaw. It is not in your nature to get shy.

As much as he wants to stay rooted to the pick-up counter to keep you and Yoongi in his close watch, he has to move his ass somewhere less crowded to avoid getting eye-fucked by the girl next to him who has been staring at his tattoos for the past five minutes. Prior to dating you, anyone who displays interest in his tattoos would make pride swell in his chest, an ego-booster guaranteed to make his day a thousand times better. He used to subtly flex whenever he caught someone looking at his sleeve tattoos, an equally subtle wink on the side if that someone is a girl he found attractive. But after dating you, he realizes that the only attention he wants (and matters) is yours. Now anyone staring at his tattoos with the intention of flirting or getting in his pants just makes him shiver in disgust.

Though, in this particular instance, Jeongguk admits it’s his own fault by showing up to the coffee shop in a sleeveless shirt. It wasn’t intentional, he just grabbed anything within reach when he packed for the gym earlier in the day, but the way he left his hoodie in the car is definitely intentional. He thought he would give you a distraction surprise by baring his sleeve when you’re working, but you seemed unaffected even when he leaned on the counter to flex his muscles. Which is weird, considering you never missed any chance to ogle his inked bicep whenever he’s boxing.

As Jeongguk plops a small piece of brownie into his mouth, he just realizes that your roles are reversed now, with you doing your thing and him doing the staring. His eyes never leave your figure as you ring up three more customers since he sat down, transferring plastic cups onto Yoongi’s never-ending queue of orders. He watches as you take the last two cups by yourself, re-reading the order before moving to grab the ingredients needed for the drink. Your hands don’t work as fast as Yoongi’s, the muscle memory not yet settling in, but Jeongguk can tell that your help is appreciated by the way the mint guy smiles at you while patting your shoulder.

When the orders are all done, you go up to the glass door to flip the sign so it shows the Sorry, we’re closed! side. A glance at the clock tells him that it is thirty minutes until closing time, meaning thirty minutes until you can get out from behind the cashier and into his waiting arms. He hasn’t seen you all day today and all he wants to do is kiss you breathless the second you get rid of that horrendous apron and cap. Jeongguk starts counting down from the thirty-minute mark, hoping time would tick by faster.

Behind the counter, Yoongi is still busy making one more drink while refusing your offer to help. It’s weird seeing your kindness being offered to someone that isn’t him, but Jeongguk supposes this time it’s strictly work-related as he knows Yoongi has been making all the drinks (except the last two that you did) ever since he sat down with his order. Though, it seems like the drink in his hand is not an order at all, because he gives the plastic cup to you instead of putting it on the counter for a customer to take. There’s an almost childish grin on your face as you sip on the drink, eyes lighting up as you shoot Yoongi a thumbs up. After you exchange some more words with Yoongi, Jeongguk watches as you skip happily to his table with your drink in hand.

You place said drink next to his cup of latte on the table before your hand reaches for his drink to steal a sip. “I just have to clean up and wait for everyone to leave, then we’re good to go.” You steal two more sips of the latte just because you can.

“Okay, babe, but I still want my latte, you can put it down now,” Jeongguk chuckles, watching you do as he says with a guilty smile on your face. But then your hand takes the little spoon that came with the brownie to cut a sizable chunk from his half-eaten treat, quickly plopping it into your mouth. “Finish your brownie so I can take the plate away to wash it.”

“Are you just here to steal all of my food?” Jeongguk jokes, no menace behind his words as he reaches up to thumb away a stray piece of brownie from the corner of your lips. “And you said you didn’t want anything when I offered earlier.”

“I didn’t,” you confirm, “stealing from you is just too hard to resist.”

Jeongguk would’ve continued the banter if not for Yoongi calling your nickname from behind the counter, signalling for you to get back to your job.

“Boss calls,” you say, sneakily stuffing some more brownie into your mouth. “Should get back. Bye!”

“He’s your boss?” Jeongguk asks incredulously, glancing at the mint-haired guy who’s still busy moving around behind the counter. “That young guy is your boss??”

“Yeah, I’ll explain later,” you wave your hand dismissively, turning to leave. “Don’t steal my drink!”

In true Jeongguk fashion, of course he steals a sip from your drink. He does it just to be petty that you won’t explain anything about Yoongi, but he’s also curious what the new menu tastes like. He doesn’t remember seeing any banner for a new menu when he entered the shop earlier, so he’s guessing it hasn’t gone on sale yet.

He scrunches up his face the moment the drink touches his taste buds, tasting the bitterness of coffee among the layers of other flavors. It’s not as strong as the americano he usually has, but he can still feel it linger even after he swallowed the drink. Definitely not the type of drink you’d order on your own, though, so why were you so excited to try this new menu?

Looking around the shop, Jeongguk’s gaze falls on Yoongi. You did say he was your boss, didn’t you? Could it be that this free drink is just a plot to use you as a guinea pig for his experimental weird recipes, knowing that you can’t refuse your boss? Was that why he refused your help earlier? So he could make the drink taste as bizarre as it is right now?

His eyes continue following your and Yoongi’s figures behind the counter, squinting them in distaste whenever he sees you laughing at something the mint-haired guy said. Your smile, your lowered gaze, your shy demeanor, all remind him of a feeling he thought he had buried a long time ago—the same feeling he got whenever you got a boyfriend in your adolescent years. Suddenly, Jeongguk feels fifteen all over again—a clueless doe-eyed boy who donned t-shirts in every color of the rainbow every day of the week and strutted like he owned the school just so you can see that he was cool, only for you to deny him of a Sunday together.

Those years have become a core memory for him that it inspired him to get one of his tattoos: Rather be dead than cool, because he realized the way to your attention was not by being cool, it was by just being himself. (Yes, the ‘him’ who showed up unannounced at your doorstep after two years and ended the day with you on his lap stealing all the breath straight from his lungs.)

Anyways, all of that doesn’t matter because currently, your eyes are not on him but on your mint-haired boss who’s busy grinning while washing some equipment. Why are you both smiling so much around each other? Do you have some kind of inside joke that’s so funny you can’t stop laughing? What is so pleasing about Yoongi’s presence that you keep beaming at him?

Jeongguk chews the straw of your drink in anger, not realizing that he has inhaled almost half of the cup’s content despite claiming that he hates the taste. Sipping on your drink has become an afterthought as he was busy analyzing how wide your smiles are while working with Yoongi and how friendly the shoulder and head pats you give each other are. It’s sickening.

Eventually, everyone else in the coffee shop left and you’re in front of him once again to get rid of the brownie plate from his table, whining when you see the half-empty cup in Jeongguk’s hand even as you’re chewing the rest of his brownie in your mouth. Fair trade, he says as you walk away with the plate and spoon in hand.

Not even five minutes has passed since you left his table, yet Jeongguk feels tired of being patient, taking your and his coffee cups in each hand before coming up to the counter. It seems like Yoongi senses his presence, because he looks up from the calculator app on the tablet in front of him to give Jeongguk a curious glance. Their eyes meet for a split second before Jeongguk moves his gaze past Yoongi’s shoulder to you, who’s still busy wiping down the counter. A knowing smile curves on Yoongi’s lips.

“Hey, Kiddo,” Yoongi turns towards you, the nickname still irritating to Jeongguk’s ears. “I’ll finish closing up, you can go. Great work today.”

“No it’s okay, I can help you mop the floor after I’m finished with the counter.” You don’t even look up as you wave him off, oblivious to Jeongguk’s presence and his increasing impatience in front of your boss. He clears his throat comically loud, making you turn around to see a frown etched on your boyfriend’s face and Yoongi tilting his head towards him with a small, almost teasing smile on his face.

“Oh.” You pull your lips into a thin line. “Okay then. Sorry about him, Yoongi.”

“No worries, Kiddo.”

Yoongi’s nonchalant response is laced with a chuckle, which for some reason, upsets Jeongguk even more than the nickname he keeps calling you by. Is Yoongi not scared of him? Of his tattoos, of his muscles? Is he not intimidating? Can’t he feel the piercing stare Jeongguk keeps giving him ever since he walked into the coffee shop?

“You.” Your stern voice tears his hot gaze away from the mint-haired guy, whose focus is back on the calculator on his tablet to count the sales they made today. “I’ll clock out first then we can go. Please don’t do anything weird in the five minutes that I don’t have my eyes on you.”

Jeongguk follows your figure with his eyes until you disappear into the backroom, leaving him alone with Yoongi. Yoongi, the guy with the mint hair, whose surname he doesn’t even know, who is your boss that strangely have an endearing nickname for you. Things that stream steady questions into his head, about your initial meeting with Yoongi to the extent of your relationship with him. It’s the nickname he can’t seem to shake off of his mind, the way it rolls easily off Yoongi’s tongue, as if he’s been calling you that for years. Has he known you for years like Jeongguk has? Been through near-death experiences with you like Jeongguk has? Has he deserved the right to call you by a nickname like Jeongguk has?

“You can stop shooting daggers at my head, you know,” Yoongi’s low drawl almost makes Jeongguk think that he’s talking to himself, but the sentence is clearly directed at him. The older guy finally looks up from his tablet to look at Jeongguk in the eyes for longer than a second, no coffee orders to complete to interrupt their interaction this time. “Kiddo’s boyfriend, Jeongguk, right?”

As Jeongguk gives a nod to confirm Yoongi’s question, a hand is extended towards him to complete the introduction. “I’m Yoongi, Kiddo’s coworker-slash-boss.”

Jeongguk grips Yoongi’s hand with more strength than necessary, unintentionally flexing his muscles too. He thought that would be enough to tell Yoongi that Jeongguk is your boyfriend and he has no business being so friendly with you, but Yoongi only glances at his tattooed arm before letting go of his hand with a comment about how strong his grip is.

“Thanks, I do boxing,” Jeongguk mutters curtly, upset at the degree of nonchalance Yoongi is showing. He starts glancing at the door to the backroom where you currently are, wishing you would emerge right this second so he can go and doesn’t need to face Yoongi’s mint hair ever again.

“Yeah, Kiddo might have mentioned that a few times, just like she won’t shut up about your sleeve tattoos,” Yoongi says, going back to his tablet. “I used to box too, by the way.”

If you asked Jeongguk what Yoongi used to do, he wouldn’t be able to answer at all as he chooses to focus on the part where Yoongi said you won’t shut up about his sleeve tattoos and tune out the rest of his sentence. “My tattoos? What about them?”

“She said you have tons. Shoulder to fingertips. That’s how I recognized you when giving your order,” Yoongi answers lightly, which piqued Jeongguk’s interest even further. Wouldn’t it be fun to use this coworker-slash-boss of yours to get information about what you’ve been saying about him at work? What else does Yoongi know about him other than he does boxing and has a sleeve tattoo?

“Really? Does she gush about how hot they are to you, too?”

It’s not a question meant to be answered, its sole purpose to show off that you indeed gush to him about how hot his tattoos are. Though, if one thinks about it, why would Jeongguk need to boast to Yoongi about the compliments you give him about the strokes of ink on his arm? What business does Yoongi have knowing about it?

Yoongi seems to be unaware of Jeongguk’s inner dilemma as his face breaks out into a grin. “I think she’d be mad at me if I told you half the things she gushes to me about you.”

So you do gush about how hot his tattoos are to Yoongi. Interesting.

The fact that Yoongi insinuates there’s more to that is both endearing and terrifying to Jeongguk, because while he’s giddy that you talk about him with other people with so much enthusiasm, too much of it could end up in you sharing something about him that you should not have. Not to mention you’re sharing it with your boss, someone you should keep at an arm’s length when it comes to sharing about your significant others. One wrong move and he could use it against you.

Jeongguk is just about to ask Yoongi to elaborate further on his statement when you step out of the backroom, now out of the murky brown cap and apron and in a white t-shirt that looks like it belongs to Jeongguk. All thoughts of Yoongi knowing all sort of things about him evaporates right away, his mind focusing on how cute you look instead. If only Jeongguk doesn’t know basic human decency, he’d pull you by the waist to taste the mouth he’s been deprived of for the whole day, not giving an ounce of care about your boss watching the whole thing.

No, he’s a good boyfriend so he opts to pull you by the shoulders instead, letting your arms go around his waist before squeezing you in his arms. The kiss he drops on your cheek is chaste yet lingering, like he wants to let you know just how much he missed you. You tighten your arms around him in return, wordlessly saying the same thing back.

“Ready to go?” Jeongguk mumbles into your hair, not yet letting go of the hug.

“Ye—oh, wait!” You pull your face away from its initial position on Jeongguk’s chest. “You haven’t met Yoongi yet.”

“We did, Kiddo,” Yoongi waves you off. “You’re free to go. Your boyfriend here has been waiting long enough.”

“No,” you say, pulling away from Jeongguk’s hold. “I mean I haven’t introduced you two properly.” You gesture to the both of them back and forth as you say their names. “Yoongi, meet my boyfriend, Jeon Jeongguk. Jeongguk, meet my boss, Min Yoongi. His family owns this coffee shop.”

“That’s what you mean by proper?” Jeongguk says to you as he takes Yoongi’s hand for the second time that day, regular grip this time because you’re watching his every move like a hawk. “I didn’t know you own the shop. Nice place,” he nods to the older guy, releasing his hand.

“Thanks. It’s my dad’s, though. I just help from time to time,” Yoongi shrugs.

“You ‘just help from time to time’ but willing to dye your hair mint in honor of the new menu.” You nudge his elbow playfully. “Speaking of the new menu, did you finish the whole cup, Jeongguk? I’ve only had a few sips.” You frown as you bring the cup to your eye level, examining just how much of it is left. It’s an exaggeration, obviously, as the cup in your hand is still half-filled. But Jeongguk plays along, saying the reason why he inhaled your drink is because he’s tired from having just gone back from boxing.

“You have your own latte,” you point out, finally taking a much-deserved sip from your free drink. It still tastes okay, so you stop grilling Jeongguk about stealing your drink (even though you kinda stole his too, in the middle of your shift nonetheless.) “Oh, and did you know Yoongi also—”

Yoongi clears his throat loudly before you can finish your sentence. You look up from your drink, alarmed, afraid you might have said something wrong. Your eyes meet Yoongi’s and he gives you a tiny shake of his head, one Jeongguk doesn’t notice because he’s busy taking sips from his own cup of latte. (And because he’s more focused on you than Yoongi.)

“He knows, I told him I used to box too,” Yoongi says.

“You did? I didn’t catch it,” Jeongguk averts his eyes from you, turning to look at Yoongi. “Wanna have a match? I could use an opponent for my session tomorrow.”

“I said I used to, Kid,” Yoongi re-emphasizes on the two words. “I have a shoulder injury. It’s healing, but I still shouldn’t do too much to it.”

“Oh come on, I’ll go easy on you.”

“Jeongguk!” A slap lands on his bicep courtesy of you.

“What? He said it’s healing!”

It’s only now that Jeongguk witnesses the exchange between you and Yoongi using only your eyes, yours looking frantic while Yoongi’s looking as cool as a cucumber. Maybe he should dye his hair a shade of green resembling a cucumber rather than a mint.

After watching you and Yoongi have a silent conversation for a minute, Jeongguk lets out a sigh as he takes the final sip from his latte. “It’s okay, babe, I was just kidding. It’s fine if Yoongi doesn’t want to have a match with me.” He throws the empty cup into a trashcan nearby. “It just means that he backs down easily from a challenge.”

You physically face-palm at his sentence, missing the way Jeongguk throws a challenging smirk Yoongi’s way. The older doesn’t seem fazed at all, instead letting a small smirk take over his features as well. “That’s not a really nice thing to say to someone you’ve just met,” he drawls.

Jeongguk shrugs. “Just stating the truth.”

“Jeongguk, please stop,” you whine from behind your hands, still facepalming because you don’t want to become a witness in case this coffee shop becomes a crime scene.

“Alright, I’ll have a match with you,” Yoongi says finally, tone resolute. You peek out from the cocoon of your hands, glancing back and forth between your coworker-slash-boss and your boyfriend who are having a staring contest, both refusing to back down. “Tomorrow after my shift works? Kiddo here can take the same shift so she can watch us too.”

“Sure,” Jeongguk agrees without a pause. “It ends at three, right?”

“Yep.”

“Cool. See you then.”

Then Jeongguk puts his arm around your shoulders, pulling you away from the counter to finally go take you home as it’s the reason he came here in the first place. You hastily give your coworker a wave goodbye over your shoulder, getting a wave back accompanied with a laugh. Jeongguk uses the opportunity to steal yet another sip from your drink.

“Stop it! You’re gonna finish it all!”

“What even is it? It tastes really weird.” Jeongguk scrunches up his face.

“It’s mint mochaccino, you ass.” You pull the cup away from him, who chases the straw with his mouth while grinning wide. “Stop or I won’t kiss you until tomorrow morning.”

“Always withdrawing kisses when I need them the most,” he pouts, retreating from your drink to let you finally finish the cup yourself. “Can I kiss you in the car or should I wait until we get home?”

(Does not matter what you answer is, because he grips the back of your neck in the car to make out with you for five minutes, and then finish what he started in the safety of his room, under the blankets.)

“Are you sure you want to fight with Yoongi later?”

You and Jeongguk are back in his car, on the way to the coffee shop for you to start your shift and for Jeongguk to get his americano to kick off the day. His nod to your question is firm.

“Yeah. My coach said it’s good to train with an opponent sometimes.”

“You could’ve fought with your coach instead, then,” you point out.

“True, but—” Jeongguk tilts his head, sucking in a breath. “He’s the one who trained me, so he knows my fighting style and pattern. It’s good indeed, but it’s missing that element of fun.” He drums his fingers against the steering wheel. “Besides, I want to know what your Yoongi is made of.” He casts a glance at you to see your reaction.

“What ‘my’ Yoongi, what are you talking about …” You heave a sigh, massaging your temple. It’s not even 9 AM yet but you can already feel a headache coming. Sometimes you wonder why you’re willing to date this childhood friend of yours, knowing all of his flaws and bad habits like this. Though it’s given you the advantage of being able to read between the lines of his actions, often you wish he’d just say things outright without you having to dig it out of him.

“You know, the Yoongi you work with? The Yoongi who gives you head pats? The Yoongi who has a nickname for you?” Jeongguk’s tone gets more annoying near the end of his sentence, almost as if he’s trying to get a certain reaction out of you.

“The Yoongi who owns the cafe I work at, which is the sole source of income I have?” you reply instead, refusing to give in to Jeongguk’s silent provocation. “Also, the Yoongi who used to box. I think you should keep that in mind when you fight him later.”

“Yeah, yeah. Bet he wasn’t even that good.”

You manage to arrive at the cafe unscathed, only losing a tiny piece of sanity because your boyfriend couldn’t keep his mouth shut about Yoongi and his non-existent boxing skills (Jeongguk’s words, not yours.) It doesn’t help that the Yoongi in question is already standing behind the register, greeting you with a smile and throwing a lopsided smirk your boyfriend’s way. You don’t like the thick tension between them at all so you quickly slip into the backroom to let Jeongguk be a big boy for once and order his own americano for the day.

Stepping out of the backroom in your mandatory work apron and cap, you’re kind of relieved when you see the shop is still intact, not thrown upside down courtesy of your boyfriend and his inability to control his strength (and emotion) in the face of a threat (read: Yoongi.) Upon seeing you, Jeongguk pushes himself off the counter he’s leaning against before reaching for your waist despite your boss standing just a few feet away. The cup of americano on the counter tells you that you took too long in the breakroom, which if anyone asks, you’d justify with adjusting your work attire. In reality, you just don’t want to face your boyfriend and the sour look he has whenever he so much as glances at your boss.

“You can always cancel the fight with Yoongi, you know,” you murmur, biting your bottom lip in worry. “You could hurt him, he could hurt you … it’s not ideal.”

“Hmm.” Jeongguk purses his lips. “What’s not ideal is your boss having a nickname for you.” There he goes again, always having something to say about Yoongi. “Aside from it being highly unprofessional, it’s also inappropriate since you have a boyfriend and that is me. Jeon Jeongguk. I am your boyfriend.”

“Jeongguk, he knows,” you groan, fed up with the back-and-forth about this whole Yoongi thing. You don’t even know why your boyfriend is so threatened by the older guy when he’s a whole lifetime ahead of him. “It’s not even a nickname. You’re just seeing what you want to see.”

Jeongguk’s reply never makes it out of his mouth as he’s interrupted by Yoongi clearing his throat, making you both look at him tapping on his wrist to signal the time. It’s a reminder that you’re here to work, not to continue the argument that sparked in the car. Your boyfriend rolls his eyes at your boss, sharing a hard stare with him before deciding to do something one should not do in front of their boss: dip down to kiss you, using your surprised gasp as a way to slide his tongue inside your mouth. In the five seconds he manages to tangle his tongue with yours, you completely missed the sound of the glass doors opening and the low whistle that came after, along with Yoongi’s chuckle and greeting to the person who just came in.

Shoving Jeongguk away by your hand on his chest, you try to cover your burning face with your other hand as an attempt to save your dignity in front of Yoongi, though you doubt it’s working at all. Jeongguk licks his lips then winks at you, squeezing your waist in his grip before stepping back to grab his cup of americano, now full of condensation sliding off the plastic cup. He takes a sip to taste test before scrunching up his nose.

“Could’ve been better,” he sneers, making you glare. “Alright, I’ll let you get to work. See you later, babe.” Then, after a second, turns to Yoongi to add: “you too.”

When Jeongguk disappears into his car, you put your head in your hands and let out the loudest groan known to man. “I’m sorry, Yoongi.”

The mint-haired guy only gives you a gummy laugh, eyes turning into crescents as he shakes his head. “Your boyfriend is really something, Kiddo,” he muses. “A really … fun early morning entertainment, you could say.”

“Entertaining it was!” You hear the voice first before you see the person, the one who must’ve come in when you were rather preoccupied with your boyfriend. Park Jimin, your other coworker, slides behind the counter in a brown apron identical to yours and Yoongi’s, just minus the cap. Good, that means he doesn’t have a bad hair day today and can take the position at the register instead of you. You could use some more time to learn to make the drinks, anyway.

“Didn’t know you and your boyfriend were such exhibitionists, Kim,” Jimin taunts you, his eyebrows wiggling suggestively. “Although, if my boyfriend were that hot, I would have wanted to exhibit him too…” He purses his lips in an exaggerated manner of faux thinking, obviously trying to rile you up. “Lucky you, Kim.”

“Shut up, Park,” you seethe through your teeth, slapping him with a dish rag while he cackles happily. “We’re not exhibitionists. You just have terrible timing.”

“Oh, it was perfect I’d say, just in time to catch sight of his tongue going into your mouth—”

“JIMIN!”

When Jimin continues making fun of you by making gross kissing sounds, you turn to Yoongi for help. As the oldest amongst you three, he must have a sound solution to get Jimin to stop making those awful sounds and put you out of your misery. Although, your trust in him is probably misplaced as Yoongi just chuckles and tells you something your own mom would tell you whenever you’re telling on Jeongguk: “Just ignore him, Kiddo.” The sacred word of ignore. “Go prepare the breakfast pastries now.”

So much for sound solution.

You go about your shift as usual, with Jimin manning the register like you planned to. Time goes by quickly when you’re busy working (and when your coworker is Park Jimin) that you didn’t realize it’s almost time for your shift to end. You glance at the line in front of Jimin and see that there are still three more people he needs to serve, while you and Yoongi still have about five tickets to finish before you can clock out and leave. Scratch that, might be eight tickets to go considering the workers who have their shift after you aren’t here yet. It’s gonna be a while before you can see your boyfriend and be a witness to an unnecessary fight between him and Yoongi.

“Hey, Kim, where’s your boyfriend? Didn’t you say he was gonna pick you up from work?” Jimin nudges your elbow when he finishes taking one customer’s order, sliding a plastic cup into the queue in front of you. “I want to see just how hot he really is,” he continues while wiggling his eyebrows.

Before you can slap the guy with your dish rag again—it’s looking more like your weapon rather than a cleaning tool at this point—Yoongi pipes up from his position in front of the sink. “Just look for someone with a tattoo sleeve. He loves brandishing it.”

“Ooh, a hot guy with tattoos,” Jimin whistles. “Add some piercings and I might steal him away from you.”

“Jimin, quit drooling over my boyfriend,” you sigh, taking the next cup in line as your coworker turns back to the register. He’s already starting to greet the next customer when you decide to give him a taste of his own medicine, sliding next to him to brew the espresso needed for the order you’re making. “He has one on his lip, but he’s mine. Note that, Park,” you whisper to him while he’s keying in an order, earning a light chuckle from the man.

“He’s just messing with you, Kiddo, don’t mind him,” Yoongi chuckles from beside you, eyeing Jimin whose focus is currently on the cup he’s scribbling a customer’s name on. “He has his eyes set on someone else already.”

“Gossiping, aren’t we?” Jimin turns to you and Yoongi with a sleazy smile. “Careful now, unless you want Hoseok to know about your hot boyfriend too, Kim.” He gestures to the glass doors, where Hoseok from the next shift just walked through. He’s a great guy, but you’ve only shared a couple shifts with him, so you think you haven’t got to the point of sharing about significant others.

With the mention of Hoseok, you and Yoongi move to finish the orders you have left before handing over the shift to the aforementioned man. When all your orders are done and you’re ready to head to the backroom, you turn to ask Jimin to go with you only to find him still rooted in front of the register. “Jimin, you’re not going?”

“Oh, I’m actually covering for Eunbi.” Jimin shrugs, sliding a cup into Hoseok’s line of orders. “Go, Kim. Have fun with your boyfriend,” he grins, sending you a teasing wink.

Hoseok, a clueless witness, looks at the both of you with a scandalous stare. “What, what, what did I miss? Why are you winking like that, Park Jimin?” he says, urging Jimin to elaborate while pouring drinks into a plastic cup.

“You should ask her, Hobi,” Jimin snickers into his hand as he turns to greet a customer. Hoseok turns to you, his expression hopeful that you will shed light on the reason behind Jimin’s wink.

“My boyfriend is about to fight with our boss and I don’t know how to talk him out of it,” you say through your teeth, giving an overly-sweet smile to a confused Hoseok. “Now if you’ll excuse me, I have to meet him and make sure he’s not gonna bite Yoongi’s head off.”

“Bye, Kim,” Jimin sing-songs, waving his hand to you. “Say hi to your boyfriend for me!”

You’re already walking away, turning to tell Jimin off when you bump into Yoongi who’s just came out of the backroom, void of his work apron and ready to go. He grabs your shoulders to turn you around, pushing you into the backroom to prevent anymore banter between you and Jimin. “Let it go, Kiddo.”

In the backroom, you catch a text from Jeongguk saying that he’s already in the coffee shop, ready to go when you are. You emerge from the room after clocking out, moving your feet to the dining area of the cafe while waving to Jimin and Hoseok behind the counter. Scanning the room, you search for a familiar mop of black hair that belongs to your boyfriend.

It’s easy to spot Yoongi’s mint hair amongst the sea of other natural-colored hairs. What’s not easy is believing your eyes when you see the person sitting in front of Yoongi waving wildly at you, grinning like a mad man. It’s your boyfriend, the person you’re supposed to see after work, the person you’re supposed to supervise when he fights your boss later, alright, that part you know. The part that you don’t know and have a hard time believing is:

Jeongguk’s hair is mint.

Not black, not brown, not the experimental half-half he tried in high school. Mint.

The exact same shade as Yoongi’s.

It feels like you’re on autopilot when your feet carry you to their table, jaw on the floor while your eyes are stuck on Jeongguk’s freshly-dyed strands.

“Hi, babe,” your boyfriend has the audacity to say, lips stretching impossibly wider. He reaches up to run his fingers through his mint hair, an act so deliberate even Yoongi sighs at the sight of it, but it makes your heart skip a bit nonetheless. “Do you like my new hair?”

The light green strands previously tangled with his fingers fall back to cover his forehead and frame his face perfectly, the light hue somehow blending well with Jeongguk’s skin tone. It also accentuates his jaw more, making it appear sharper when the grin on his lips morphs into a smirk once he notices that you can’t stop staring. Oh, that smirk. Usually hot with his previously black hair, it is now lethal with his mint hair, toeing the line of playful and dangerous at the same time.

You want to scream at the obvious and cheesy question.

Yoongi, the third person who’s been watching the entire interaction unfold before his eyes, clears his throat. “If you’re done eye-fucking your boyfriend, can we go now? I have somewhere else to be after this.”

“Yoongi!” you whisper-shout, half scandalized, half disbelieving that your boss can say something so crude in the middle of his own buzzing coffee shop. Maybe he’s been hanging out with Park Jimin too much. (Or maybe he’s just sick of you drooling over your boyfriend time and time again … yeah, maybe that.)

“Can’t wait to lose to me, Min?” Jeongguk snickers, taking your hand in his as he follows Yoongi—who pointedly ignores his taunting question—towards the glass door of the coffee shop.

You catch Jimin’s eyes as you’re stepping out, his eyes rounding in surprise before a sly smile takes over his features. Have fun! he mouths, giving you a wink. Ugh, you’re gonna face a lot more questions the next time you have a shift together with him.

After another futile attempt at talking Jeongguk out of fighting with Yoongi, you’re seated where you usually are, on the sidelines of Jeongguk’s gym, this time with heightened anxiety out of fear that your boyfriend and your boss could hurt each other. You’re worried less about the physical part—boxing is a very physical sport, after all—and more about the mental part.

Boys are full of pride, full of ego. They pride themselves on their ability to box, delivering punch after punch until their knuckles bruise. They pride themselves on their muscles, bulging biceps that took years to build and maintain. They pride themselves on their strength, how they are able to hold you up against the wall when you’re busy sucking air off each other’s lungs.

Oh, and in case it’s not clear, by boys you mean Jeongguk.

You have a lot of faith in your boyfriend, of course, but knowing Yoongi’s boxing skills, no matter how long ago it was, the outcome of the fight today could just be the one that would hurt Jeongguk’s pride. The possibility of it happening is so high that you’re already preparing yourself for when Jeongguk comes back to you with his ego bruised. God, you can only hope Yoongi won’t hit too hard.

You’re too busy thinking of the many possible outcomes of this fight that you don’t realize when Jeongguk is back from putting his gloves on and warming up, now standing in front of you. “Wish me luck?” he says, along with a toothy grin your way.

“Yeah, good luck, Ggukie,” you reply, lacking your usual sarcastic bite. Jeongguk seems to pay no mind to it, though, ducking down to peck your lips before turning around to face his opponent for the day.

You catch Yoongi’s eyes when Jeongguk has his back to you, quickly mouthing don’t hurt him! to your boss, which he only responds with a smirk. All the blood drains from your face. Looks like your worries about someone getting his ego bruised won’t be just worries after all.

When the fight has started (Jeongguk’s coach started it—you’re grateful he’s there because then you don’t have to worry too much about Jeongguk and Yoongi beating each other to a pulp), you can’t help but watch. You just realize, in the years you’ve known Jeongguk and watched him box, you’ve never actually seen him fight anyone else other than his coach. He’s said before that he only took boxing as a way to work out, not to actually fight, so you guess that makes sense.

You don’t watch boxing matches a lot (actually, you don’t watch them at all), your only knowledge of boxing you get from watching Real Steel, a movie about boxing matches for robots, set in the far future when human boxing is not interesting anymore due to the limited brutality. You’re not sure how much information you retained from the movie, and how accurate they are, but you’re pretty sure you don’t need much boxing knowledge to know that right now, Yoongi is playing defensive while Jeongguk is playing offensive.

Alright, you admit, you have no idea if the terms you’re using are right, but it’s the simplest ones you can use to describe the sight in front of you. Since the start of the fight, Jeongguk has been throwing punches continuously, while Yoongi has had his gloved hands covering his face the entire time. Okay, not the entire time, but he’s only thrown one punch compared to Jeongguk’s one hundred ones.

As the fight goes on, Yoongi starts throwing punches here and there while still dodging Jeongguk’s aggressive fists. You’ve never seen Yoongi move this much in the entire time you’ve known him, and it surprises you how agile he is. The way he ducks under Jeongguk’s arm and throws him off balance is admirable, sometimes a little bit funny (just a bit, you promise) because it shows just how calm he is compared to Jeongguk’s aggressive, almost-angry boxing style.

When Jeongguk’s coach declares a break, your boyfriend walks back to you with his brows furrowed, tearing off one of his gloves so he can remove his mouth guard and grab his water bottle. After chugging down half of its content, Jeongguk heaves a frustrated sigh.

“I can’t grasp his fighting style,” he grumbles to himself. His eyes are set on Yoongi, who’s on the other side of the room, drinking from his own water bottle. “Who the fuck ducks all the time while boxing?”

“Maybe it’s because you keep throwing angry punches at him, babe,” you say, initially to keep his frustration at bay, but instead it makes him raise his eyebrow at you in a duh way. You backtrack immediately. “Okay, okay. But it’s just your first time fighting him, isn’t it? Be patient, Jeongguk, and maybe let up your punches a little bit?”

“Baby, it’s boxing,” he says exasperatedly. “Someone has to throw some punches.”

“I know, but you just seem so … angry. Yoongi’s only ducking to dodge that. I’m saying maybe you can tone it down so he could stop dodging, so then you can see his fighting style better.” You’re saying this while gripping his biceps, hoping your words can go through his seemingly-clouded mind. “When you see his fighting style, won’t it be easier to figure out a way you can beat him? Isn’t that what you taunted him with at the cafe?”

You know it’s not even remotely possible to learn one’s boxing style just from a single fight, let alone “figure out a way to beat him”. Somewhere in his fogged mind, you believe Jeongguk stores this fact as well, he’s just currently too deep in frustration to place it in the front of his mind. You’re not even sure your suggestion to learn Yoongi’s fighting style is registered well in his head, considering your boyfriend is now back to eyeing your boss with fire in his gaze.

“Jeongguk?” You give his shoulder a firm grip as he puts his mouth guard back on. “Tone it down. Yoongi could just be waiting to punch back. You don’t want that.”

Jeongguk parts ways with you with an absent-minded nod and two pats to your head with his heavy gloved-hand. On the other side of the room, Yoongi looks ready to go back into his fighting stance. You sigh internally. Jeongguk is so going to punch him aggressively, again.

The next thirty minutes of the fight goes like a blur in front of your eyes. Jeongguk throws a hook that Yoongi dodges, Yoongi retaliates with a jab to Jeongguk’s side which makes you wince, rinse and repeat. Maybe you’re wrong about your boyfriend for once, you think, seeing his calmer fighting style now. With the way he left your conversation minutes prior, you really thought he was gonna continue raining punches on any part of Yoongi’s body he could reach. You’re relieved that that’s not the case.

Although, perhaps your relief came too soon because a boxing match isn’t over until it’s over.

Watching Jeongguk fight with Yoongi is like watching a cartoon character with an energy meter atop his head, except for Jeongguk, it measures his patience instead. As the minutes went on, you feel like you could see the patience meter above his head depleting until it’s all gone, and that’s the moment he went back to his initial fighting style: aggressive and angry. You almost pull your hair out in frustration because you just know that this is what Yoongi has been waiting for ever since the fight started.

The next thing that happens reminds you a lot of one fighting scene in Real Steel, where Atom was waiting for his opponent to run out of energy so he can fight back. In the movie, Atom knocked the other robot down with a final uppercut, gaining him a win and advancing him to the next round. Well, uh, in this case, just replace Atom with Yoongi and the other robot with Jeongguk.

Yoongi’s clean uppercut wiped your boyfriend out, who’s now lying on the ground clutching his face—which you’re sure is beginning to swell right now. Despite already knocking Jeongguk down, Yoongi is still in his fighting stance, never lowering his guard even as Jeongguk’s coach counts to ten. Your boyfriend remains immobile, though, and the second the count is up you’re running towards Jeongguk’s limp body.

“Gguk, are you okay? Baby, look at me,” you say hurriedly as you try to pry his arms away from his face. He doesn’t budge, and for a second, you’re scared that Yoongi has maimed your boyfriend for life. “At least let me know you’re alive,” you continue when his silence becomes concerning.

“Hmmph,” Jeongguk grunts. You heave a huge sigh of relief.

“Okay, good.” You run your fingers through his sweaty hair, trying to offer some comfort even though you know he had this coming. Gigantic ego, big talk, cocky as shit? Yeah, you understand that Yoongi would want to knock him down a few pegs. But now is not the time to launch into an ‘I told you so’ spiel, not when Jeongguk is still freshly bruised—both his body and his ego.

So instead, you lash out at your boss.

“I told you not to hurt him, Yoongi,” you snap-slash-whine, a frown on your lips. You thought, as the oldest among all of you, Yoongi could be trusted to knock some sense into Jeongguk’s mind without physically hurting him like this. As it turns out, all boys are the same.

The older guy just shrugs. “Probably wouldn’t get my point across if he weren’t knocked down.” He shakes the sweat out of his hair as he starts taking off his boxing gloves. When he sees you’re not impressed, he chuckles. “Relax, Kiddo, I didn’t even hit him that hard. He’ll be okay.”

“Really, Yoongi?” You roll your eyes. “You gave my boyfriend an uppercut just to prove a point!”

Yoongi just continues laughing as he chugs from his water bottle. His nonchalance about this is starting to piss you off. Maybe it’s your turn to put on the boxing gloves and sock him in the face, give him a taste of his own medicine. You scoff to yourself, picturing your own body lying next to Jeongguk if you really did that.

“Just tell your boyfriend here that there’s no need to be jealous of me, Kiddo,” Yoongi says, picking up his bag. Just then, Jeongguk’s coach appears with an ice pack in his hand, offering it to you so you can place it against Jeongguk’s swollen jaw. Despite your attempt to coax him out of his arm cocoon, he still refuses to move.

“Yoongi, look at him, you really broke him.” You’re flat-out whining now, kicking your feet like a child. It doesn’t even occur to your mind that you’re all still in the middle of a public boxing gym, with other people around you, being witness to this ridiculous scene.

“Oh my God,” Yoongi laughs before crouching down at Jeongguk’s legs. “Hey, Jeongguk, you hear that? Your girlfriend is worried about you,” he says, nudging Jeongguk’s leg lightly. “She only has eyes for you and your tattoos, too, you don’t need to be jealous at all.” You smack him on the shoulder for that.

Jeongguk finally removes his arms from his face at Yoongi’s words, his doe eyes menacing. “Go away,” he grits out at the older male, his scratchy voice making him sound less threatening than he intended. Despite that, Yoongi still holds his hands up in surrender.

“I’m going, I’m going,” Yoongi relents, standing up while adjusting the hold he has on his bag. “Was gonna go anyway, I have a date to get ready for,” he throws a grin your way. “Alright, I’ll be going first. Take care of your boyfriend, Kiddo.”

Yoongi retreats with a wave towards you both.

Jeongguk lets out a groan, shifting your attention away from your boss who’s already backing his car out of the parking lot. “Quit your job tomorrow,” he says. “I hate your boss.”

“Stop moving around!”

“It hurts!”

You’re both back at Jeongguk’s house now, with you sitting atop his outstretched legs on the bed, attempting to take care of his battle wounds courtesy of his fight with Yoongi. Aside from the swollen jaw, Jeongguk has a cut on his eyebrow and a split bottom lip. For a boxing match, you’d say these are minor injuries—proving Yoongi’s words right, he didn’t hit Jeongguk that hard—but your boyfriend is acting like a baby. He keeps jerking his head away every time the alcohol swab comes in contact with either of his cuts, it irritates you to no end.

“You have a goddamn full sleeve of tattoo and a lip piercing, quit acting like this hurts more,” you hiss, pressing the cotton in your hand to the cut on his lip as Jeongguk hiss back in response.

“At least when I got my tattoos and piercing, the artist didn’t do it while yapping my ear off,” he lisps through the cotton. “What happened to the caring girlfriend at the gym? Did she go away too, alongside Yoongi?”

“Oh, shut up, if I yapped back there Yoongi would’ve stomped on your ego more than he already did, do you want that, Jeongguk? Huh?” Your words are harsh, but you try hard for your hands to be the opposite, gentle as they cover the cut on his eyebrow with a band-aid. Jeongguk’s forehead is still damp from his quick shower earlier, beads of mint clinging to his skin. He might look smoking hot with his newly dyed hair, but the way the color rubs off on anything is starting to get onto your nerves. You wipe lightly at the color to make sure the band-aid sticks to his skin and does not come off the second he jumps around again.

“My ego is fine, you don’t need to protect it like this,” Jeongguk grumbles, adjusting the ice pack he’s holding to his jaw as you press a new cotton ball on his lip, discarding the one stained crimson red to his bedside table. “Maybe if you care about me as much as you care about my ego, everything would’ve been better.”

The way he’s rambling like he got his sense knocked out of his head as well makes you roll your eyes to the back of your head. “Don’t test me, Jeon. If I didn’t care about you I wouldn’t be here sitting on your thighs patching your minuscule injuries like they’re fucking wounds from a war.”

“Maybe,” Jeongguk half-agrees, a pout on his lips. “But you haven’t kissed me even once ever since the fight ended. Do I not deserve a kiss because I lost? Do you not want to kiss me ever again because I can’t beat Yoongi in boxing? Do you think Yoongi is way better than me now? Do you want him to be your boyfriend instead of me?”

With every nonsensical question, his pout deepens, and his eyes droop to stare blankly at nothing.

“Hah, ‘my ego is fine’ my ass,” you mumble, mostly to yourself as you turn the gears in your head on how to stop the bleeding on Jeongguk’s lip. It keeps gushing out blood, and you can’t exactly stick a band-aid to it like you did his eyebrow. At last, you just hold a cotton ball against it and hope it stops bleeding soon.

“Yoongi was right, you know,” you say clearly now, the tumble of Yoongi’s name out of your lips making Jeongguk glance up and focus his sight on your face. “You don’t need to be jealous of him at all. Heck, you don’t need to be jealous of anyone, Jeongguk. I’m your girlfriend and will always stay your girlfriend, no matter what. You don’t need to beat anyone in boxing or dye your hair the exact same shade as anyone for me to stay. You, Jeon Jeongguk, are enough.”

Jeongguk’s eyes, gazing into yours, are glassy with unshed tears. You don’t know if they are there because he’s touched by your words or are leftovers from crying over his bruised ego from the fight with Yoongi. Either way, it throws you off balance. Next thing you know, you’re being tugged down by the nape for a kiss.

Jeongguk’s lips are warm, like usual, but the tinge of metal you taste on your tongue is making you worry. Before you lose yourself in his kiss, you pull away to thumb at his lip lightly, seeing streaks of red on your skin. You’re about to continue pressing the cotton ball in your hand to his lips and stop all forms of kissing immediately, but your boyfriend has a mind of his own as he instead sucks your thumb into his mouth, wrapping his lips around the digit delicately as he holds eye contact with you.

Gone is the trace of any tears from his eyes, now replaced by something you can only identify as lust. As flattered as you are that Jeongguk finds you desirable in your current situation, it also makes you confused. He’s hurt and the only thing in his mind is getting his dick wet? Unbelievable.

The ice-cold feeling on your waist tears your attention away from Jeongguk’s dark eyes as you yelp, hand instinctively prying the cold thing away. The ‘thing’ turns out to be his hand, which was previously holding the ice pack to his swollen jaw. He’s sneaked his fucking cold hand under your shirt to hold your waist when he should’ve kept holding the ice pack to his jaw—his swollen jaw!

Your boyfriend has a swollen jaw, a busted lip and a cut eyebrow. This is not the time to be screwing around.

Pulling away your thumb out of Jeongguk’s mouth at the speed of light, you attempt to climb off his lap, but he’s read your mind even before they are conjured up in your own brain. His hands are back on your waist—yes, the cold one too—and they hold you firm in place. The side of Jeongguk’s lips turn up into a sickeningly sweet smile, before he tugs your body towards his, making your hips come in contact with his crotch. He’s hard. Oh, fuck.

“You know, I never really understood why you’re so bratty whenever you’re horny and I can’t tend to you right away, but I think I get it now,” he says right by your ear, making a shiver run down your spine. “I’ve been trying to will away my boner ever since you sat on my lap, but your weight on it is so damn distracting, it’s hard.”

“So,” he punctuates the word with a kiss on your neck, “I started saying anything to get my mind off it, but the way you care for me just … turns me on even more, if that was even possible.” He noses his way down your throat, coming to a stop at your collarbone. “And then all that talk about how I am enough … holy shit, I lost it. All I could think about was how I want to kiss you and fuck you into next week on this very bed.”

You can barely hear the last few words Jeongguk is saying, because he’s mumbling them into your skin as he peppers kisses and nips there. His fingers are now pressing into your back, pulling you closer and closer to him until there is no space left between you. You crane your neck so he can have more room to splash reds and purples onto your skin, sighing to the top of his mint head.

“You know, for someone claiming to be horny, you’re doing a terrible job at dirty talk,” you jab at your boyfriend, earning you a bite on your neck and a tightened grip on your body, making you close your eyes with stuttered breath.

“Easy, babe,” Jeongguk chuckles. “You talk as if you won’t be a moaning mess by the end of this,” he continues with much confidence. “But also, my lip is still kinda bleeding and my sides are still throbbing from the bruises. Kinda debating should we continue or just go to sleep.”

“Jeon Jeongguk I swear to God if you leave me high and dry—”

“Maybe you should kiss them better,” he cuts you off with a suggestion, his lips still trailing butterfly kisses on your neck and collarbone. The hands still on your back sneakily climb up and up until they’re reaching for the clasp of your bra, easily opening it to free your breasts from its confines. Your sound of protest gets stuck in your throat as a strangled moan comes out instead when Jeongguk massages your breasts tenderly with his fingers.

“Maybe I would—fuck—if you get rid of your shirt,” you say, tugging on the offending piece of fabric still covering your boyfriend’s gorgeous body. It’s not fair that he’s got you half naked already and he’s still fully clothed.

Jeongguk parts himself from your body long enough to tug his t-shirt off from the back of his neck in one smooth motion, exposing the golden expanse of his skin to your hungry eyes. If you thought his mint hair was smoking hot with his shirt on, it’s literally burning a flame of desire deep in your belly with his shirt off. You’re tongue-tied as you marvel at the sight in front of you, you almost jump when your own shirt and bra are taken off your body.

Now both bare from the waist up, Jeongguk wastes no time leaning back in for a kiss on the mouth, this time open-mouthed so he can slide his tongue inside. You keen happily, slipping a sigh in between as he slowly lowers you to the bed. Jeongguk anchors his hands on your hips, teasing at the waistband of your sweatpants as he keeps your mouth busy with his own. In contrast, your hands are everywhere, from his broad shoulder to his firm back, from his bulging biceps to his rock-hard abs. You even tease your fingers past his waistband, grabbing onto his ass and squeezing, making him groan hotly into your mouth. It’s only when your fingers brush against his sides that he winces, reminding you of his earlier request.

“Flip around,” you whisper against his lips, “so I can kiss your bruises better.”

“Hmm?” Jeongguk hums, your words a murmur in his head. “But I like having you like this. Under me, naked, panting, wet,” he says, slipping his hand beyond your sweatpants to prove his words right—you’ve soaked through your panties. He drags a finger slowly up your center. You shudder.

“Yeah? I can be naked, panting, and wet on top of you as well.”

“Ooh, tempting.” Jeongguk licks his lips. He flicks your clit with a cheeky smile dancing on his lips, before settling his hands back on your waist. “Alright, I’ll flip over.”

The next second, you’re staring at him from up top, admiring how his mint hair looks against his dark grey bed sheets. Although, his hair is the least of your concern right now, as you’re tugged back down for another bruising kiss. Now that you’re on top, Jeongguk takes the opportunity to return the favor that is slipping his hand into your pants to squeeze your ass, but his version involves pulling your hips down while his thrusts up, creating a delicious friction between your body that makes you exhale a moan into his mouth.

You move away from his lips, down to his jaw where you take care to land a kiss light as a feather, before moving to his neck and collarbone where you have your own share of bites and licks. Aside from your infatuation with his tattoos and biceps, you actually have another one with his collarbone, this one you keep secret from him lest he goes around the house shirtless more often just to brandish his clavicle. But maybe he’s already noticed from the way you always make sure to cover that body part of his in blooms of red and purple, taking care to trace each and every bite mark slowly with the tip of your tongue.

While you’re busy with his collarbone, Jeongguk keeps dragging your crotch steadily over his, like he can’t get enough of the feeling and wants to keep chasing it. The delicious pressure on your center is a bit distracting, so you smooth your palm across his chest to pinch at his nipple in warning. Jeongguk lets out a broken whine from his throat.

“Stop humping into me, do you want to cream your pants?” you chide, fingers still giving tiny pinches to his nipple to keep him on his toes.

“Was trying to get you to cream your pants,” Jeongguk grins guiltily, his hips snapping up yet again to collide with yours. Even if you roll your eyes at his antics, you still continue your journey of kissing down his body, making sure to suck and lick on his sensitive nipples. You love the moans and groans that slip out of his throat every time you do things to his nipples. He likes it so much that his hips keep chanting up, searching for friction, that you have to pin them down so you can slide down to pepper kisses on his abs and waist.

Jeongguk works really hard to maintain the body he has, clearly evident in the eight pack he’s sporting on his stomach and the tiny, minuscule waist that’s way too slutty for a man to have. Sometimes you’re jealous of how nice his body looks, how firm it is to touch. You told him this one time, along with your regret that you couldn’t give him a similar experience, but he’d only laughed and said that admiring and appreciating him was enough, before proceeding to show you how he admires and appreciates your soft body (he kept biting into your inner thigh as he was eating you out, coaxing you into four orgasms back to back that day.)

And so, you admire his body by kissing the taut muscle one by one, tracing the lines outlining them with your hot tongue, caressing his bruised waist with the pillow of your lips and the feather of your touch. You know he’s hurt, but you can’t hold yourself from nipping on his slutty waist, gifting him another bruise that’s not a result of a punch. From the choked sob that rips out of his throat and the jump of his dick somewhere on your stomach, you take it he likes the bite.

“So,” you say as you mouth at the seam of his waistband, hand massaging his hard cock through his pants. “Do you want to cum in your pants, in my hand, in my mouth, or—?”

“Fuck, in you, please,” Jeongguk begs, eyes glassy from your ministrations. “But can we go back to dry humping for a while? Kinda like the friction on my sweatpants,” he breathes.

“Like this?” You move your hand up and down his cock, dragging the material of his sweatpants with it, paying special attention to the head. With every rub of the sweatpants against his head, a bead of precum comes out, with Jeongguk throwing his head back in silent pleasure. “Yeah, fuuck, that feels good.”

“But babe, want you, on top,” he demands, making grabby hands at you. “Was serious when I said I wanted you to cum first,” he continues, sighs in content when you oblige, resuming your position on top of him and lining your clothed crotch with his. He starts dragging your hips against his, building the pleasure up the faster he goes. “Want to fuck your swollen pussy, dripping with cum. Oh, I’ll slide right in, no problem, so wet, warm … fuuuck.”

The grip Jeongguk has on your hips is bruising, you have no choice but to let your body be manhandled by him. Slowly but surely, the band inside your stomach begins to tighten as your hold on his shoulders does as well. You’re so close, just one more move to tip you over the edge. When Jeongguk sucks one of your nipples into his mouth, the band inside you snaps and you come with a jerk of your hips and a whine from your throat.

Jeongguk slows down his move, taking care not to cum before being inside you, before stopping altogether and wrapping his arms around you to bring the both of you into a sitting position. Your limbs feel like jelly, still trying to come down from your high, when Jeongguk pecks your cheek before carefully lying you back down on the bed with your face down. He then maneuvers himself behind you, lifting your hips off the bed. You’re starting to have an idea what position he wants you in when he spreads your knees and slowly peels back your pants and panties to reveal your bare ass and pussy.

He takes his time caressing the globe of your ass, inching his fingers towards your pussy lips before spreading them apart, tearing a low whine from your chest. You guess he’s admiring the way cum still drips out of your cunt, because he’s silent, immobile for almost a minute.

“Gguk…” you whisper out. “You gonna fuck me or not?”

Jeongguk scrambles to get his pants off. “Fuck, yes, of course, baby, you just look so beautiful like this, I want to stare all day long,” he breathes, lining up his dick with your entrance.

God, I’m so thankful you’re mine, is his last warning before he slides home in one thrust.

Later, when you’re both freshly showered and cuddling on Jeongguk’s bed—with blue bed sheets this time, because you forced him to change the sheets as the grey ones smelled gross after your activities—you ask him a question.

“Are you still jealous of Yoongi?”

There’s a three second pause before Jeongguk’s answer comes. “Maybe a tiny bit,” he says, nearly connecting his thumb and forefinger together in a ‘tiny’ motion. “Of his boxing skills only. Amazing how he could still move like that with an injured shoulder. I want to be like that too.”

“You want to injure your shoulder?”

He gives you a flat look. You giggle.

“His shoulder is actually healed, you know, so he’s still actively boxing until now. He trains the boxing club at my campus whenever our coach can't, that’s where I know him from and how I’d gotten the job at his cafe.”

Jeongguk purses his lips. “So he lied to me.”

“Hmm,” you agree. “I figured it was to ‘teach you a lesson’, that’s why I asked him not to hurt you before your fight. Did you, though? Learn your lesson?”

“What? To not be jealous of him?”

You pinch his waist. “To knock your ego down a peg and stop feeling insecure whenever I interact with other men?”

“Baby, the guy had a nickname for you. My insecurities were valid!”

“You mean the ‘Kiddo’ one?” you ask. Jeongguk nods. “He calls Jimin Kiddo. He calls Eunbi Kiddo. He calls you Kiddo. He calls everyone younger than him, Kiddo.”

More silence ensues.

“So … my jealousy was for nothing?”

“Yes! What I’ve been saying!”

Jeongguk giggles. Then he kisses you. Then he giggles again, while still kissing you.

“How about an apology?” he offers.

“In what form?” you challenge.

“Round three?”

“No.”

Well, at least he’s not jealous anymore.

a/n: thank you for reading!! please let me know what you think of this, i literally almost cried in the process of writing it and when i finally finished it :') and yes this started because of that one mint jeongguk in memories 2020/2021, i think? the one with him in a black sleeveless and a pair of sunglasses, hahah. wish he'd dye his hair mint again (he looks rly good in it ugh)

→ request is open for my 1k folls celebration!

[unboundprompts]

How about a sort of prompt/prompts where Character A accidentally kisses Character B and then panics because they think they messed everything up when B doesn’t respond? (Thinking about this nonstop bc something similar like this happens in my oc’s background and results in him coming out at almost 200 years old (vampire) )

Being Shocked After a Kiss Prompts

-> feel free to edit and adjust pronouns as you see fit.

He didn't know what happened. One second, they were laughing and having a good time, the next, his lips were on hers. It was everything he could have imagined. When he pulled away though, finally unlocking his lips from hers, she was dead silent.

"Say something," she whispered. "Please say something." Their face was expressionless, their hands limp in their lap. She had messed everything up. How could she have been so stupid? Of course, they wouldn't have wanted to kiss her.

"I'm so sorry," they blurted, hand still pressed to their lips as if they couldn't believe they had done that, themself. "I shouldn't have kissed you. Not now, not without asking, I--"

He was so quiet that it was making her stomach churn. She had never regretted doing something more than now, in this moment. Why did she kiss him?

She buried her face in her hands as if she could hide from the embarrassment. "I shouldn't have done that." They were silent. So, so silent. It only made her feel ten times worse.

"I'm not upset," he finally said. "I was just surprised."

"You didn't mess anything up," they told her after a few moments of listening to her ramble.

If you like what I do and want to support me, please consider buying me a coffee! I also offer editing services and other writing advice on my Ko-fi! Become a member to receive exclusive content, early access, and prioritized writing prompt requests.

[penkura]

OP Men as Dads Part 3

Note: Part 3, Part 3!! I was asked by someone on AO3 to add Luffy, so I did that! I still view Luffy more as a brother or son, so I still don't expect to write anything romantic for him, but this I can do! I hope you all enjoy!

Franky probably didn’t even think he’d ever get the chance to have kids, not after the train accident you know, but he’s excited for it! You’d have two boys around three to four years apart that are just like Franky in every way, but the older would be a bit more shy than the younger. They’ll both spend a lot of time with Franky in his workshop when they get old enough, they’ve got a knack for shipwright work and it almost brings a tear to Franky’s eye to see them sketching their own ship designs on whatever scraps of paper they can find. Your boys love you too of course! The two will bring their drawings to show you and ask your opinion, you have to tell them everything on your mind or they won’t go back to drawing, mama’s thoughts matter! It becomes family time to go over the sketches your boys made during the day, they want to do you and Franky proud in everything, but nothing they do could ever make you love them less.

~~

Katakuri has planned to have kids for a while, even though he’s already 48, he still wants to have a few and be a father to them. He’ll raise them differently from how he was raised, but still love them dearly and want only the best for them! You’ll both be surprised when you only have one first, a little girl who has Katakuri wrapped around her finger as soon as she’s born and handed to him. She’s so tiny, he’d be content to have just her if she’s all you were blessed with. Fast forward five years and there’s a set of wailing triplets that you also didn’t expect to have, but the three boys are more than you ever could’ve asked for and their big sister loves them just as quickly. She begs to see them as soon as their born, Katakuri brings her by that day to see you and them, and she has to gold all three in a row immediately. After that, a set of twin girls comes along a few years later, your oldest isn’t the only girl anymore and she’s still just as happy to have new siblings at around ten-years-old, your five-year-old set of triplets also excited. Katakuri loves and thanks you so much for the family you’ve made with him, even if you tell him your twin girls are it, you’re done. He's happy with what you have, grateful for your love and children.

~~

Killer is absolutely a great dad, you couldn’t have asked for anyone better to be your partner and father to your children. You have a boy first off, with your eyes and blond hair, he wants to be just like his dad when he grows up! A couple years later comes a little girl, she’s a surprise but a pleasant one at that. You didn’t really expect her to have Killer wrapped around her finger in a heartbeat but the second he saw her it was over, he became wholly devoted to your little girl and making sure she was happy as could be. You’ve come back to your family multiple times seeing Killer either having a tea party with your daughter or playing some make believe game with both your children, he normally plays the damsel in distress for their enjoyment. Your kids can see people act oddly around Killer when they recognize him, but neither of them care to know why, they’re still quite young, and they only care that they’re dad loves and takes care of them alongside you. All that matters to them is that Killer is around to play with them and eventually start teaching them to protect themselves.

~~

Luffy would be the fun dad, no doubt in my mind! Like how Ace would have three daughters, I can see Luffy having three sons! Probably twins at first, then another son a couple years later, the three having the same dynamic that he had with Sabo and Ace when they were kids! They’d all look like Luffy, except your middle child would have your eyes, a small piece that shows yes, you’re the mother to these three rugrats. All three dream of being pirates, its their favorite game to plan, especially so since their dad is King of the Pirates. After all, who better to tell you how the pirate life works than him?? With all of the Straw Hats around, your sons would be protect from the moment they hear you’re pregnant, everyone being the best aunts and uncles around as soon as they’re born. Luffy would be the most protective of course, but he’d still give your sons the freedom to do what they want and to grow and learn how the world works. Being a pirate is about freedom, isn’t it? Your sons will never have to wonder if they’re loved or wanted, everything you and Luffy do is for them.

~~

I honestly see Mihawk with one child, a daughter. She’d be an unexpected blessing that has him around her tiny finger the moment she takes her first breath. He’d never let her, or you of course, out of his sight, unless he absolutely had to go to a Warlord meeting or something like that. When Zoro and Perona show up, they’re both flabbergasted that the Dracule Mihawk has a child, and that she’s a cute baby girl, only a few months old! Perona will try to dress her up in frilly dresses but your daughter will cry, which ends with Mihawk taking her back and demanding Perona stop using his daughter like a dress up doll. The funny thing is, your daughter will be absolutely enthralled with Zoro, she’ll fuss until he holds her, sometimes he’s the only one who can get her down for a nap or to sleep at night. The number of times Mihawk has caught Zoro training with your daughter strapped to his back or the two napping together warms his heart, maybe having the two freeloaders around isn’t so bad.

~~

Sabo never thought too much about having kids. It was a nice idea, but he didn’t have any strong opinions about it. Then of course, you showed up and he started to have dreamy ideas of his own family and children with you as the mother. Your first is a little girl, blonde as her dad and just as rambunctious. She’ll chase down everyone that she can’t to play with her and grab their attention for whatever story she’s made up, Sabo especially listens intently to her, giving her a smile, asking questions, and responding to everything she says positively. After your daughter comes two boys, one after the other just a couple years apart, and both times Sabo can’t believe he’s so lucky to have you and your children. Your sons look more like you, though your youngest has Sabo’s hair just like your daughter. He’s more shy than either of his siblings, but with Sabo he’s more open and talkative. Your first son may be the middle child, but he’s also the one who becomes more interested in the Revolutionary Army’s work. Although Sabo knows that all of them may become interested one day, wanting to join, he hopes that their work can be completed first and your children will be able to love safe, comfortable lives as they grow up.

[eddiesxangel]

If you ever felt like it, would you be cool writing reader and Eddie; their best friends and they both perv for each other but never show it and she was invited to DND and she needs to rush to the bathroom to literally rub one out and Eddie silently makes his way to see what you’re up to

Just Friends |Perv!EddieMunsonX Perv!bestie reader

AN: I made it modern just to make it more pervy! hope you enjoy :) ps. If you see any typos no you didn’t 🤫

WC: 3.2k

It’s been almost a year since you and Eddie became friends, you’ve been inseparable since. You and Eddie first met when you were sleeping over at Nancy’s and Eddie was over for a DND session. You had literally run into Eddie, you smacked your face into his chest as you rounded the corner, in your pyjamas no less. You gave an awkward giggle and introduced yourself. You didn’t really recognize him, your lunch periods weren’t the same and he wasn’t in any of your classes. But fate swooped in, and due to that fated night everything changed. 

Eddie was struck by you the second you crashed into his chest. He had seen you occasionally with Nancy in the halls but never could come up with a good excuse to approach you. He thought you were cute, like really fucking cute. So cute to the point that when you did actually touch him (by accident) he popped a boner the second your sparkling eyes looked into his for the first time. Lame, he knows. He couldn’t believe you had this visceral reaction over his body, but all he could think about was your lips, how they moved when you spoke his name and how you smiled at him. Eddie was absolutely screwed, and he had to do something about it he just didn’t know how. So when you finally approached him at Mike’s one day he seized his one opportunity. Turns out you were really fucking cool, on top of being really fucking cute. 

Eddie wanted to spend the most amount of time with you that he could. He was always asking to hang out one on one. His favourite would be when you would ask him over to your house. He loved being able to have access to all things you. The first time he was invited over he couldn’t believe his luck. In the midst of your hang out, you had to take a phone call in the hallway and you left him alone in your room. Eddie felt like a creep the first time but he had to know. He found your underwear drawer, it was filled with soft cotton and lace. His eyes almost popped out of his head when his hands found your red lacy thong. Pocketing it and slamming your drawer ship when he heard you giggle goodbye. 

The second time Eddie was left in your room you told him you were going to take a quick shower, leaving him to his own devices for a least ten minutes, he saw your book on your nightstand, it had a cutesy little cartoon cover, very girly, he was planning on mocking you when you got back in because who reads romance novels? He opened up to where your bookmark was, and his eyes bulged open when he saw what exactly it was you were reading

His strong hands gripped my bare hips as he pinned me down to the bed. His fingers travelled down to my soaked pussy, slowly and agonizingly circling my sensitive clit. I begged for more but he only laughed, "Only good girls get what they want" he whispered and I ground my hips up into him the best I could, but his hold was too much. "Please' I begged. "Please Sir I will do anything, I want your cock so bad, I promise I'll be a good girl." I cried. He was torturing me...

Eddie could not believe his eyes, he had no idea you were so dirty. His best friend had another side to her that he had yet to see, that he would literally sell his soul to see. Oh to hear you say those dirty words to him that he had just read. He popped a boner just thinking about it. He hadn't time to fix it so he grabbed your cow squishmallow to put on his lap when you re-entered the room in nothing but your pink bath towel. You were literally going to be the death of him. 

You loved when Eddie would come over, but you also loved being in Eddie’s space. Being consumed by all things Eddie, the decor, the smell, the comfort of being surrounded by him. Eddie let you into his home anytime and all the time, it didn’t matter if he wasn’t home yet, you knew where the spare key was, he texted you he would be home in 40 minutes so you let yourself in and hung out until he got back. 

You walked into Eddie’s room and the urge to snoop was growing. You didn’t know what you were looking for until you found it. Stashed under his mess of clothing was Eddie's laptop. Your hands couldn’t move fast enough to the search history. Luckily for you, he was dumb enough to be logged into everything automatically. You didn’t care that this was wrong, yet you wanted to know if he had been talking to anyone. You hadn’t seen him romantically attached to anyone in the almost year you’ve been just friends. You're sure he would tell you. However, the jealousy gremlin was nipping at your ear; telling you to keep going. 

After being unsuccessful at finding any dirt you continued through the search of his laptop and found a particularly interesting bookmark. You knew this was so wrong and he probably would never forgive you if he found out but you had to know what Eddie was into. 

You clicked on the link and a porn website opened. The video was of a woman solo touching herself, and using very racy language about what she would do to the watcher. It was much different than what you consumed when you were to indulge yourself, but it was starting to turn you on as you examined the naked woman spread out in front of you. Thinking about Eddie and what he would be doing while watching this…in this bed you were sitting on, naked, touching himself to her sexy words. You thought about how big he would be, how those delicious fingers would grip himself. You often found yourself dazing out while staring at his thick ring-clad fingers. Especially when he would practice guitar, and how quickly he could move them without missing a note. Your mind drifted and you found yourself lying down in Eddie’s bed. 

Trailing your hands down underneath the waistband of your jeans, you brought a worn t-shirt that was thrown on the bed up to your nose, it smelled so strongly of Eddie. Your fingers teased your clit edging yourself as you pretended they were your best friends. You thought of how it would be to have him on top of you, how it would feel to have his cock slip past your entrance. You hummed his name quietly over and over until the slam of the screen door made you jump and you snapped out of your bliss. You quickly exited the screen and slid the laptop under the pile of clothes that rested atop the bed before Eddie entered his room. 

A bright smile struck his face when he saw you there sitting in his bed. He was oblivious to what you had been doing seconds earlier. Eddie's mind spun with the scenarios he imagined the both of you in, preferably naked. He never divulged these fantasies, of course, he couldn’t have you finding out about what a perv he was for you, or else you would never let him near you again. 

Tonight Eddie invited you to watch in on Hellfire because you told him Nancy had a date and you had nothing to do this Friday night. You’d never attended before, you were always busy with Nancy. So when you showed up to game night you didn’t know what to expect. Eddie tried so many times to explain the game to you but you never really understood, there were too many rules and you’d always zone out as you watched his plump lips at work. Day dreaming of them on your lips, or on your neck, or on your pussy.

You walked up the the Wheeler household feeling a bit strange that you weren't here to see Nancy. You were let in by Mrs. Wheeler who was on her way out with Mr. Wheeler for a very rare date night.

"Hey guys" you greeted the group as you made your way down to the basement. 

“Hey, cutie" Eddie greeted back with the biggest smile on his face. 

It truly was a mystery to the others how the both of you weren't picking up one another's signals. You saw Mike roll his eyes after Eddie spoke but you took it like he didn't was his annoying sister's friend here to ruin their ritual. Little moments between you two were clear as day to any onlooker but to the both of you, you were oblivious. Too blind to see the signs because you’ve convinced yourselves that the other one would never share the same feelings. 

You had settled in sitting on the couch behind the DND table so you could give them space without crowding around. Eddie was directly facing you so you could see everything but still do your own thing.

As the night progressed you’d been so turned on by Eddie’s performance. The passion that filled him, the way he deepened his voice, the gaze in his eyes as he described the frightening scenes that played out for the club members. Everything that you lusted for from Eddie was heightened by 100 tonight. Eddie had such a hold over you that he didn't even know about. 

You crossed your legs trying to focus on the tiktoks you tried distracting yourself with however they were not helping because it had been a bunch of thirst traps and sexy excerpts from romance novels. Yes, you were on Booktok and no you were not ashamed of being an avid smut reader. 

Since the distractions were not working and the throbbing between your legs was becoming unbearable you needed to excuse yourself, and quickly. You barely mumbled that you needed the washroom before sprinting to the main floor to find some peace in the powder room. 

You shut the door so quickly you may have accidentally slammed it which altered Eddie's even more. He was worried about you. You'd been squirming on the couch looking very uncomfortable, and then you ran out of there like a bat out of hell. He knew he needed to see if you were okay, maybe you had gotten your period or something? 

Eddie walked up the steps and called out your name but there was no answer. As he rounded the corner he noticed the light coming from under the closed bathroom door. He walked closer and heard your muffled voice but couldn't make out the words. As he approached the door he almost knocked but froze halfway when he heard your voice loud and clear.

"Eddie please" you moaned. Eddie couldn't believe his ears because there was no way this was happening...until you did it again.

"Fuck me please, Eddie right there!" you gasped. Your clit had been throbbing the whole time you’d been downstairs you couldn’t help but relieve it. You were silently watching the secret video you had taken of Eddie while he was commanding the game. It has turned you on so much, and watching it back was even better. Eddie didn’t know what to do. But he had to think quickly because his time was limited. He hesitantly knocked on the door and cleared his throat before he spoke. “ uhhh are you alright right in there?” he stuttered out his words. The knock on the door scared you. You let out a small scream as you ripped your hands away from yourself and up to your chest feeling your heart pounding. How much had Eddie heard? How much does he know you don’t think you’re being that loud? Where are you? Oh shit, maybe you were? 

“Uhhh I’m-I’m fine Ed’s” you managed to stutter. Oh my god, you were mortified. The handle of the door giggled like Eddie was trying to come in. “Come on sweetheart open the door I really need to come in,” he continued on jiggling the door until you unlocked it. Eddie needed to seize this moment. He was never going to have another opportunity like this.

“Eddie I-” You didn’t finish your sentence because Eddie had cut you off with a kiss as he cupped your face while backing you into the opposite wall. “You’re such a little pervert. I know what you think about now when you want to touch yourself, do you think about me and what my fingers can do to you huh?” Eddie broke away from the kiss and started kissing down your neck. All of this was so sudden. You had no idea that this was going to happen when you had left the basement. “I’m not a pervert!” You defend yourself. “No baby? So if I took your hand and sniffed these fingers I wouldn’t smell your pussy all over them?” he cocked his brow. “And I didn’t hear you moan my name twice just now?” He hummed. You had never heard Eddie speak like this, not even in your wildest dreams did you think he had such a filthy mouth. “You want me, baby? I heard you and your dirty words through the door. Do you want Eddie to make you feel good? Can’t get off without me? That's it huh?” Eddie’s cockiness was only making you wetter. “Fuck Eddie I need you I have needed you for so long. Please touch me.” You gasped as his plump lips sucked the delicate skin of your neck.

“Could have just asked baby, I would give you the world” His hand grazed up your leg to the open zipper of your jeans until his calloused fingers found the waistband of your baby pink panties. Your breath hitched as he found his way into your pants, brushing over the short hair of your mound to your slick wet slit. “Oh oh oh baby,” he chuckled darkly “you’ve been hiding this from me? I don’t think you deserve me to touch you, you’ve been very naughty. Tell me, baby, you always get this wet for me? What other dirty things do you do when I’m not around?” Your mind was numb with pleasure as Eddie slowly made contact with your pussy lips. He was being so mean like he was punishing you, grazing everywhere but your clit. “Fuck. Eddie please” you beg girding your hips up into his fingers to get some relief.

“I don’t think so sweetheart” you’ve been a very bad girl. “Have I? You try to spit back. “I recall you stealing my favourite pair of panties. Don’t play innocent Munson. I found them in your room yesterday.” You chide.

Eddie kissed you to shut you up. His tongue pushed its way into your mouth as you moaned in pleasure. Your slippery slick coated Eddie’s fingers as they prodded their way up into your tight hole. “Oh, Eddie!” You sighed. “Fuck say my name again” he growled.

“Eddie!” You moaned throwing your head against the wall. His fingers were so thick. He really knows how to work his fingers. “That’s it scream my name” his cocky smirk hasn’t left his face. All disregarding everyone downstairs, you didn’t try and keep quiet. Eddie watched your chest heave as your breasts raised and fell. His free hand scaled up your shirt over your bra. His hands explored your breasts and he pulled down the cup to free you. His hands worked your nipple and your clit. The way his fingers felt exploring your body only made the feeling in your core build and build. Eddie dipped his head to take your perked nipple in his mouth. You arched your back into him and his warm tongue latched onto you. A soft “Eddie baby” slipped from your lips as you were washed away with the feeling of everything Eddie. You were getting so close so fast, you had already warmed yourself up and Eddie was here to take all of the credit. Not that you’re complaining but the coil in your core was being wound up so tightly you need for it to snap. “I'm so close! please don’t stop.” 

“Oh, so you are a good girl who knows her manners, go on then, on cum for me baby” 

Eddie kissed the sweet spot on your neck while playing with your nipple with one hand and your pussy with the other. Your senses were on overdrive and you were bumming from his words. Your body shook and your release dripped down Eddie’s fingers. A few seconds later after you come down from your high you realize that he was having all the fun and you haven’t touched him yet. You graze your hand down his stomach, to the button of his black jeans. You quickly moved your fingers to unbutton and unzip his pants. You slide down the bathroom wall and get on your knees in front of Eddie. He gathered your hair in his hands and you pulled out his cock. “You’re complaining about me hiding from you when you’ve been holding out on me this whole time?” You don't hesitate. You start making out with the base of his cock moving your way up to the tip. You coddle his balls in one hand and use the other to tease the tip of his red cock. “Fuck” Eddie sucks in a breath. You continue to worship his cock. How could you not? It was so pretty, long and thick, and slightly curved to the right. Hearing Eddie whimpering above you was music to your ears. You loved the feel of the weight of him on your tongue. You swirled your tongue on his tip taking in the taste of his precum before sliding down his length to the hilt. His pubs tickled your nose but you ignored that as you hummed onto his cock. You bobbed your head up and down. It was messy and it was loud. 

“Baby fuck fuck fuck if you keep going like that I’m-” Eddie couldn’t finish his sentence before he came down your throat. The hot thick liquid ran hot down your throat. “Shit I’m sorry I’m sorry” he panted as you continued to suck him dry. Humming in satisfaction. Eddie finally loosened the grip of your hair as you pulled back and opened your mouth and stuck out your tongue to show him you’d swallowed it all. Eddie’s eyes went wide, he hadn’t expected you to be so filthy, just for him. He pulled you back up by your hair to stick his tongue down your throat. A giggle left your mouth and he pulled away. 

“We are so doing that again” he breathed. 

A pounding on the bathroom door made you both jump. 

“We get it you guys are disgusting! Let's get back to the game please!” The sound of Lucas’s angry voice came from the other side of the door. You could practically hear his eye-roll. Eddie and you burst out laughing “Come on baby, the Dungeon Master needs to finish up and then I will be seeing you later for more” Eddie left you in the bathroom, flushed and more than satisfied. You couldn’t wait for him to finish that sexy little game. 

[emo-batboy]

Things Battinson Totally Did During His First Year of University

Using Unhinged or Odd Things I Also Did as a College Freshman :D

Note: for this list, let’s believe Bruce was living in an (admittedly expensive and swanky) dorm because it is required for first-years, especially those entering at a young age, and Alfred told him he needed to make friends. Also yes I did every single thing on this list. I never claimed to be a role model

Bruce, to his TA: I’m so sorry I’m late to class. I gave blood a few hours ago and almost fainted on the way here, but it won’t happen again.

Signs up for a class called “Age of Dinosaurs” despite it not being required whatsoever and proceeds to work his entire schedule around it

Bruce: Your mental health is super important. If you think you should see the on-campus therapist, go see them. Friend: Fine. I’ll sign up for therapy if you sign up for therapy too. Bruce: Hold on-

Finds a loophole in his housing contract that allows him to get a pet frog, calls him kermit :)

Gets a second frog because Kermit was lonely, names it Constantine after Muppets Most Wanted, then realizes that they’re gay for each other. Wonders if the rainbow-colored rocks he got them triggered anything

Swings dramatically between calling Alfred every single day and ghosting him for weeks, cries when he realizes what he did

“Accidentally” joins the student body council, doesn’t know what he’s doing, gets re-elected anyway

Molds a dragon out of Laffy Taffy instead of doing his work

Bruce: *joins Honors, gets all A’s, takes the max amount of classes, has several minors, overachieves* Also Bruce: I’m a failure.

Breaks into a building after hours to study because NO ONE KNOWS HOW TO SHUT THE FUCK UP AT THE LIBRARY

Bruce: I will not get seasonal depression this year. Bruce: *gets real and seasonal depression that year*

Meticulously schedules his day with a color-coded planner because if he sits down for too long, the thoughts will consume him

Gives a presentation to his rhetoric class on how much he likes Spider-Man: Into the Spiderverse (it is 20 minutes long)

Successfully allocates funding from the student body council to pay for free feminine products in the dorms OUT OF SPITE because someone said it couldn't be done. fuck you, Andrew

Bruce: It is not an all-nighter if I go to sleep before my first class. Friend: It is 7:30am, the sun is in the sky, and your first class is at 12:30. Bruce: But I am getting sleep.

Refuses to go anywhere without his backpack because what if he needs three notebooks at once

Loses over 20 pounds because ✨stress✨ and scares the shit out of Alfred when he comes home for Thanksgiving

Argues with his TA over the one (1) question he got wrong on his Dinosaur exam

Bruce, calling Alfred: Hello father figure. How do I do taxes? Do I have to do them myself? Also, I think I’m having a panic attack.

Joins in on a charity arts-and-crafts project that gives kids books with matching activities made by volunteers, proceeds to commandeer the project because “it’s not color-blind friendly” and rewrites the instructions for everyone

Makes a murder wall

Goes to one (1) sports game and proceeds to leave in the first ten minutes because it’s way too loud wtf is wrong with people

Professor, addressing the lecture hall: I dare you to write an essay about these two sentences. Bruce: *writes an essay about six words, gets a 100, never even read the book*

Crawls into the ceiling for some alone time

Ghosts someone after a date because he’s too scared to tell them he didn’t know it was a date in the first place and now he feels bad

Classmate: How tf does he walk across campus that fast? I go in the same direction he does on my bike, and he’s always ahead of me. Bruce: *is gay sprinting to Dinosaur class*

Refuses to let others use his Favorite Pen TM

Constantly gets mistaken for a Grad Student because he is “so wise and mature” (bestie, that’s the autism)

Alfred: *casually mentions he got into a car accident through text* Bruce: *replies with a meme while hyperventilating because he doesn’t know what to do with that information??!*

Wears a suit to one of his finals

Regularly eats non-organic food for the first time in his life, proceeds to learn about several allergies Alfred forgot to mention he has

Writes “What is a Hot Pocket?” in calligraphy and proceeds to laugh his ass off alone in his dorm because he is so exhausted he’s reached the point of delusion

Locks himself out of his dorm right before class, frantically asks the floor group chat if someone can help, proceeds to tell the nice gay man on the floor who saved him “I love you” because his social skills have hit rock bottom

Makes a little music album display next to his desk for his favorite band (Nirvana) His friends call it a shrine, and they are technically correct

Has a blacklist of people he refuses to interact with because Reasons

Counselor: What do you want to do when you graduate? Bruce: *gestures vaguely*

Refuses to take the bus because there are people in there and he doesn’t like those

Loses one of his frogs, how tf did he do that, they’re fully aquatic, oh fuck, this is probably why they got rid of that loophole a year later because unbeknownst to Bruce, he accidentally started a frog revolution in the dorms, btw he SWEARS he did not mean to do that

Has two trash cans in his room: one for the Good Garbage, and one for the Bad Garbage. Only Bruce knows which is which

Bruce: *writes a creative piece about a ship’s final thoughts as it sinks, bringing its passengers down with it* TA: Absolutely lovely, Bruce, but are you okay?

Goes on Night Walks, keeps himself safe by maintaining a level 12 resting bitch face at all times

Earns the nickname “8th floor cryptid” after pacing the halls at 3am when it’s too cold for Night Walks (honestly tho how tf didn’t he get the nickname earlier?)

Bruce: Do you think a depressed person could do this? Bruce: *has a manic episode*

Okay that's all love you BYE

[imagines-for-the-fangirls-soul]

The Prince - Chapter One

A/N: Hello! I have been working on this since the season started, so it seemed only fitting that I got the first chapter out before the finale. This fic is fully written, and will be posted every other day. (If you know me, this is unheard of, I usually post as I write.) Anyways, I hope you enjoy! This chapter is a little heavy on the world building, but I promise we get into the good stuff quickly. Let me know what you think and if you'd like to be tagged in future chapters!

Pairing: Jacaerys Velaryon x Reader Word Count: 4.6k Synopsis: Jacaerys fell in love with the reader years ago when they first met in the Vale. Five years later, the reader comes to King's Landing and tries to deny her growing feelings.

Next Chapter

Arnold Arryn was imprisoned in a sky cell after trying to contest the inheritance of his cousin, Jeyne Arryn. You were young at the time, and watching your father get arrested made very little sense to you. Jeyne was fifteen, and your closest friend in the world. You didn’t understand fully what had happened to your father. One day he was there, and the next gone.

Jeyne tried to explain it to you the best she could. She was a woman, and women very rarely got the chance to rule. She needed to make an example of your father.

What you came to learn, in the years that passed, is that banishing him to a sky cell was not the only example Jeyne was setting. As part of Arnold’s punishment, he – and all his descendants – would be disinherited from the Arryn line.

A testament to your friendship, Jeyne kept you in the Eyrie, kept you by her side. She let you wear the type of gowns she wore, you ate the same decadent meals, and she made sure everyone treated you as a lady, although the title no longer belonged to you. It was the only change that you really noticed in the coming years. Your father was gone, yes, but otherwise, life went on as normal in the Vale.

Jeyne had been three when she inherited the Vale. Of course, she would not be able to rule for years. So, Lord Yorbert Royce was elected to rule in her stead, until Jeyne became of age. As Lord Protector, it was Royce’s duty to see that the Vale remained prosperous.

In the final years before he died, when Jeyne was just coming into her role as Maiden of the Vale, Royce arranged a marriage proposal for you. House Blacktyde had visited the Vale when you were thirteen, and their second eldest son, Barun, had taken a liking to you immediately. Royce informed the family that you were without title, without dowry, but Barun was not to be dissuaded. Royce crafted an arrangement that would allow you to gain a title, becoming a lady of Blacktyde, that would also result in allegiance for the Vale.

It had been a win-win.

But after Royce had passed, and Jeyne had taken on the mantle of the Vale, it crept in how wrong the arrangement was. Barun Blacktyde was your same age, but he looked ten years your senior. He had strong arms, corded with muscles, and a sheet of blonde hair that covered his wicked face. In the few times you met, his hands wandered, prodded, and bruised. He was sinister.

Now, at twenty-one years old, there was no more stalling to do. Jeyne had told the Blacktydes that she needed you at her side, that you were still too young, anything she could think of to put off the wedding. She was stalling until she could find a way out of the arrangement, but your hopes were fading as time was.

On the morning when you were to meet with your future husband and sail away to the Iron Islands, a different guest arrived in the Vale.

Prince Jacaerys Velaryon was sixteen the day he saved your life.

War was brewing in Westeros, all the houses knew. After the death of King Viserys, the fight between Princess Rhaenyra and Prince Aegon had ignited anger across the realm. In the Vale, Jeyne assured anyone who asked that she was devoted to the rightful ruler, Rhaenyra. Yorbert Royce had gone in Jeyne’s stead years ago, swearing fealty to the future queen.

When Jacaerys arrived in the Vale, he had arrived on a mission for his mother, coming to strengthen and call upon the alliances that Rhaenyra had gained years back.

Jeyne needed absolutely no persuading, but she took a liking to the young prince immediately. Nearly ten years younger than her, she delighted in the pride he already carried, the future heir to the throne. If he had been anyone else, she would have laughed him out of the Eyrie. But Jeyne believed that women needed to stick together, and this was Rhaenyra’s son.

She also believed in always keeping her mirth. And few things delighted Jeyne the way the prince’s affections for you delighted her. You had been at her side when the prince came to call. The way Jeyne tells it, she could have said anything to the prince, and he would have nodded his head in agreement, so enchanted by you was he.

You remember it differently.

When Jacaerys had arrived in the Vale, you were at your breaking point. Bleak was your outlook on life. But when you saw his green dragon in the sky, it felt like hope for one shining second.

You were at Jeyne’s side and listened to her discussions with the prince. You would disagree that his attention only lingered on you. He was a proper gentleman and gave Jeyne the respect due to her title, but every so often, his attention would flit back to you.

Jeyne invited him to stay in the Vale for a few days, enough time for them to discuss what aid the Vale could provide, and time for he and his dragon to rest. The prince agreed, smiling – perhaps your way, but you couldn’t be sure. You had been smiling, too, because you knew that the prince’s stay here would put off your move to the Iron Islands.

Back in her chambers, Jeyne nearly squealed when she shut the door behind the two of you. Immediately, she poured two goblets of wine, thrusting one into your hand. This was not uncommon behavior for your cousin, who enjoyed any and all delights, but what you couldn’t understand was why.

“Oh, Y/N,” she said, breaking off with a laugh, “His eyes never left you!”

“Whose eyes?”

“The prince’s, who else!”

“That is not true.”

“It is! I think I just witnessed love at first sight,” she says with a snort.

“I think I’m just the first woman he’s seen who has not been related to him,” you say, making Jeyne burst with laughter. You can’t find it in you to belly laugh the way she was now. Jacaerys had been kind to the both of you, mocking him seemed wrong.

“Are you going to send aid?” you ask, hoping to change the subject.

“I’m sure,” she says, taking a swig of her drink. “I just need to figure out what he’ll have to offer to get me to agree.”

“What more could we need here?” you ask with a shake of your head.

“What indeed,” Jeyne muses.

In his short stay, Jacaerys imbedded himself in your life. Jeyne always overslept breakfast, typically still in her cups from the night before. That first morning after his arrival, you came to the dining hall to find Jacaerys sitting with a few lesser lords of the Vale, a wide, handsome smile on his face. When he saw you, you can’t deny that a light flared in his eyes. He stood up and pulled out a chair for you, inviting you into the conversation.

Over the next few mornings, his attention strayed from the lords and focused almost solely on you. He told you stories about his dragon, Vermax, and adventures they had gotten into with his younger brother, Lucerys. He explained the training he had been going through since he was a young boy. He even confirmed the legend of how Prince Aemond lost an eye, although that one was told at a hush.

Because of his dedication to speaking with you, you knew Jeyne’s initial assumptions were correct. Although never venturing into anything uncouth, Jacaerys always found a way to compliment you, to make you laugh, to make you feel seen.

His presence was a beautiful distraction from the future that was awaiting you.

The prince didn’t know of your betrothal to Lord Barun, and both you and Jeyne were happy to keep it from him. The lord had already voiced his complaints about returning to the Islands once more without his bride, but with the prince and his dragon here, it felt like nothing could touch you.

The morning that Jacaerys was meant to leave the Vale, you come down to the dining hall to find that he wasn’t there. You pretend that you are not disappointed. Spending your mornings with him had been a welcome change of pace, but you had known they would be coming to an end.

When you stand to leave, the doors opened at the opposite end of the hall. Prince Jacaerys walks into the room, a smile on his face the moment he spots you.

“Good morning, Your Highness,” you say, curtsying to him. He studies the dining table, the maids scurrying to clean up the mess, and his smile falters a little.

“I’m sorry to have missed our last breakfast,” he says. “I am leaving shortly. I only came to say goodbye.”

“Of course,” you say. He is to fly north to Winterfell next, fulfilling his promise to his mother. “It was an honor to have you here, My Prince.” He smiles and takes your hand gently in his, pressing a soft kiss.

“I hope to see you again soon, Y/N.”

“Good luck, Your Highness.”

Once Jacaerys and Vermax had disappeared over the horizon, you made your way to Jeyne’s receiving room. You are welcomed in immediately, and find your cousin slouched over on a couch, groaning quietly to herself. She is not a morning person by any means. You are not sure you had ever even seen her up this early.

“Good morning, cousin,” you say, drawing her attention up to you. She grimaces at the light shining through her windows.

“What has you so chipper so early?” she asks.

“I’m always like this in the morning,” you say. She makes a noncommittal sound as she sits upright.

“The prince just left,” she says.

“I know. He came to say goodbye.”

“Of course he did,” Jeyne says with a smirk.

“Did the two of you come to an agreement?” you ask, pouring her a glass of water. She doesn’t answer until after she’s taken a sip and looks up at you with grateful eyes.

“Yes. He’s agreed to send a dragon to protect the Vale.” She takes another hearty drink of the water, before deciding she doesn't like the taste. She motions for the wine, and you bring it over. “He also agreed to take you on as ward once the war is over.”

“What?” you ask, your head snapping to her face.

“Well, not his ward,” she says with a laugh, “Although, I’m sure he wouldn’t mind. Rhaenyra will allow you into King’s Landing under her watch.”

“Why?”

“I made up some lie about learning more about the realm, so that you could become a greater aid to me. But what matters is that it will get you away from Blacktyde. With the war coming, I can keep him at bay for the length of it, assuring him that I need you here. But once it comes to an end, I want you in King’s Landing. He’ll have a harder time getting to you there.”

“Jeyne,” you begin, but she wavs a hand to silence you.

“When you get to King’s Landing, you will need to make it your chief task to marry as quickly as possible. I don’t know that he’ll ever stop,” she says quietly. You nod your head, the reality sinking over you. The single spark of hope you felt at seeing Vermax in the sky seems to light again within you.

“Thank you,” you say, crushing her into a hug she wants no business in returning.

In the coming weeks, Westeros changes, and The Vale with it. Within a year, two, the home you had grown up knowing and loving, transformed before your eyes.

No longer could you recognize the faces around you. Servants and guards you had grown up with your whole life were disappearing, either as a direct result of the war, or because of the conflict growing between families as different Houses pledged their allegiances to Rhaenyra or Aegon.

In the last year before the war ended, Jeyne ordered that you go to Gulltown. Jeyne had asked years prior in her deal with Prince Jacaerys that a dragon be sent to protect the Vale. Weeks after that agreement had been finalized, Queen Rhaenyra sent word asking that the Vale also foster her younger children, until they could be safe with her again.

Jeyne had accepted, and with their cousin, Princess Rhaena, the three youngest princes, came to live at Gulltown. She asked that you go there, as the war efforts struck closer and closer to the Eyrie. You begrudgingly agreed, because she was your Lady, but also because she didn’t often wear that look of panic in her eyes. After everything she had done for you, it was the least you could do in return.

And that was when you met Rhaena. She was just a few years younger than you and had just had a dragon of her own hatch. She had named the little pink creature Morning, and she was as beautiful as the sunrise.

Rhaena quickly became your close friend. With few friends around anymore, the two of you bonded quickly. You fantasized about the end of the war: what kind of dresses you would get to wear again, the foods you would eat, and mainly for Rhaena, seeing her family again.

The boys were her family, of course, and she doted on them as if they were her own, but she longed for her sister, for adult company. She had confided in you about her struggles to get a dragon of her own, and you knew she wanted to proudly show off her beautiful Morning.

You also dreamed of the end of the war, but for different reasons. If Queen Rhaenyra remained true to her word, you would be going to King’s Landing with Rhaena.

It seemed like the war would never end, until one day, it did.

Jeyne came to Gulltown. She was unexpected, but that wasn’t uncommon behavior for her. She often showed up and left without a warning. When she arrived, you and Rhaena were in the nursery with the younger boys, Aegon and Viserys, now seven and three. You were seated on the floor with Viserys, a dragon figurine in his hand and a horse in yours. You raced away from the dragon, but still Viserys swooped upon your figurine. You cried out playfully, making the younger boy laugh, just as Jeyne walked into the room.

“Jeyne!” you say in surprise, quickly standing. “I didn’t know you were coming to Gulltown."

“The young prince takes a liking to you,” she says with a smile. “Must run in the family.”

“Oh, aren’t you over that by now?” you ask.

“What do you mean?” Rhaena asks, turning both of your attentions.

“Nothing,” you say, shaking your head, “She’s just making a bad joke.”

“I am not,” Jeyne says proudly, knocking your shoulder with a hand, “You should have seen the crown prince when he saw her.” Rhaena looks at you curiously, and for some reason it makes you feel guilty.

“Her opinion alone,” you say, tidying up around the room. Rhaena gives you a small smile, seeming to accept this explanation, and then turns back to Jeyne.

“What brings you here?” she asks.

“Good news.”

She informs you both that the war has ended, and before the two of you can run off to bag your bags, she holds you back and tells you the best news of all. Barun Blacktyde grew tired of waiting and had married another.

Jacaerys awakes with a smile on his face. He is in a strange bedroom, one he hadn’t been in since he was a little boy. The room had been his mother’s, when they had lived in the Red Keep. It had passed through owners, many of whom Jace didn’t want to think about now.

Today, all of his thoughts were to be consumed by one thought: his family returning home.

It has been years since he has been able to communicate with his brothers through any other means than letter. And since the younger boys are still little, most of his letters go to his brother, Joffrey. He will be thirteen now, and Jace can’t even imagine what the boy will look like. What the younger two, or even Rhaena will look like now.

He imagines he has changed much, too, in the last five years.

When he sees them again, time stands still. He recognizes Joffrey first, but only because he looks so much like Luke. Jace races to him first, wrapping him in a bone crushing hug. His brother hugs him back just as fierce, and when they break away, there are tears in his eyes to match his own.

“You’ve gotten big,” Joffrey jokes.

“So have you,” Jace says with a smile.

He embraces Aegon and Viserys in turn. The boys had been so young when they left, he’s not sure they recognize him. They hugged him back, but it seems more so because Joffrey did first, than anything else.

Lastly, he sees Rhaena. She has grown in the last five years and is more beautiful than he remembers. He convinces Baela to let her go for a moment and embraces her, too.

“Welcome home,” he says. She doesn’t respond other than with a sob-like sound but rubs a hand over his back. She is smiling when they break apart.

They start their day at the dragon pit, those who had gone to the Vale wanting to show off their dragons, Rhaena especially. It has been years since Jace has flown with any of his brothers, and flying with Joffrey now, he feels a weight lift off his chest.

His mother wants them close all day, and doesn’t let them stray too far. When Joffrey asks for specifics about the war, Jace has to tell him in hushed tones from the corner of Rhaenyra’s chambers.

At the end of the day, a feast has been arranged for the family, as well as a few of his mother’s trusted advisors. Jace sits next to Rhaena, across from Joffrey. Rhaena speaks animatedly with Baela about Morning, and the pride in her voice brings out his own. He remembers what it was like when Vermax first hatched, when he realized the honor he had been given, to become a dragon rider.

So lost in these thoughts, he only catches the last few words of Rhaena’s story.

“What did you say?” he asks.

“Oh, just a story that Lady Jeyne told Y/N and I,” she says, as if it’s a passing thought, something completely inconsequential, and turns back to Baela. Jace stares off into nothingness, until Joffrey chuckles into his food. Jace glares at him, kicking him discreetly under the table.

“What?” Baela asks, looking between the two.

“Nothing,” Jace says firmly.

“Have you been to see her yet?” Rhaena asks, looking at Jace.

“Seen who?”

“Y/N,” she says with a shake of her head.

“No, of course not.” He knows he says it too harshly, but he is actively trying to fight off an embarrassed flush, and to figure out a way to choke Joffrey from across the table without his mother knowing.

“Oh,” Rhaena says, “Seemed like she took a liking to you.”

“Did she?” Jace asks, his heart rate accelerating.

“Well, I wasn’t there,” she says with a laugh, “But Lady Jeyne certainly thought so.”

“Ah.”

“It would be good for one of us to greet her,” Rhaenyra says, across the table. “In welcoming the children home, I fear she got lost in the commotion.”

“I’d be happy to,” Jace says. Joffrey is barely breathing across from him, holding back laughter.

“Thank you, Jace.”

When supper finally ends, Jace makes sure to grab Joffrey and hold him back while the others exit.

“What did you say?” he asks.

“What do you mean?”

“What did you say to Y/N?”

“About what?” Joff asks, brushing him off. “Your eternal crush on her? Nothing.”

“Why did Rhaena make it appear otherwise?”

“Because Lady Jeyne liked to joke about it,” Joff says. “I swear, I never talked about it except with you in our letters.” Jace nods, centering himself. He ruffles Joff’s hair, frustrated with himself for badgering him when he only just got him back.

“Sorry,” he says gently.

“Don’t worry about it. Are you going to go see her?”

“I told Mother I would,” he says, straightening. Joffrey smiles at him, a little bit in jest, but also with enough encouragement that assures Jace that he can walk up the steps to your chambers.

“Good luck,” Joff says with a pat on his back.

When a knock comes from your door, one of the maids assigned to your quarters opens it. You hear her gasp in surprise but then she says, “Your Highness.” It’s the only reason you are able to connect that the man standing in your doorway is Prince Jacaerys.

You adjust your dress as you walk towards him, trying to see the boy you met so many years ago. He is taller now, maybe even broader. His hair, somehow, has gotten even curlier.

“Y/N,” he says with a smile. For some reason, the sight of it sends your stomach into a summersault.

“My Prince,” you say, curtsying to him. “What a lovely surprise.”

“It’s wonderful to see you in King’s Landing,” he says, the smile still on his face.

“It’s wonderful to be here,” you say. “I wasn’t sure I would ever get to see it.”

“Would you like to see more of it?” he asks quickly.

“What?”

“I could give you a tour, if you’d like,” he says. “The Keep is vast; it took me months to figure out all its hiding places.”

“I’m sure you have much better things to do than give me a tour,” you say abashedly. He steps forward, looking at you with kind eyes.

“You and your house safeguarded Rhaena and my brother for years. It would be my honor to show you my home,” he says. Something about the look in his eyes, the passion behind them, makes you think that this is a bad idea. But you also know, there is no way to decline your prince.

“The honor is all mine, My Prince,” you say. He smiles at you, a dimple forming in his cheek you hadn’t noticed before. You take his outstretched arm.

He guides you out of your chambers and into the hall. Outside, the sun has begun to set, casting shadows all along the airy halls.

“I apologize for not coming to welcome you sooner,” he says.

“You were reuniting with your family, there is no need to apologize, Your Highness.”

“Just Jace is fine,” he says, drawing your gaze to him. “You’ve known me long enough.”

“Have I?” you ask with a laugh. “I knew you for only a matter of days, five years ago.”

“It seems like longer, but I suppose that’s true,” he says, “And you did not know me when you saw me at your door.”

“What?” you ask in surprise.

“You didn’t recognize me.”

“Well, the prince I met five years ago was a boy,” you say, heat rushing to your cheeks for some unknown reason. “You do seem like a completely different person.”

“Maybe I am,” he says with a coy smile.

“What about me?” you ask, lifting your chin to him. He says his next words softly.

“What about you?”

“Did you recognize me?”

“Of course. The years have made you more beautiful, but you still look like Y/N,” he says. A chill passes over you at the casual way he says your name. You briefly try to make sense of what you are feeling, but more than that, you want to stay in this moment.

He turns you down a hallway, guiding you towards the great hall.

“So, what truly brings you to King’s Landing?” he asks. “Your cousin was adamant about it years ago.” Something in his expression makes you think you could tell him; makes you believe you could tell him anything.

“Jeyne is more than my cousin, she’s my best friend. She has done me a great honor by keeping me in the Eyrie. But she also knows that we are somewhat . . . sheltered there.”

“Sheltered?” he repeats.

“There’s not much more I can learn there.”

“They’ve seemed to have taught you well enough. Joffrey says you were a great sparring partner,” he says, making you laugh.

“He’s too kind. Or he’s a liar,” you say, a fluttering in your stomach when Jace smiles at you. “I was more of a dummy for him, I think.”

“He was always quick with his sword. I have a scar on my forearm from sparring with him.” He turns over his wrist, his arm still linked with yours, and rolls up his sleeve to reveal the miniscule scar. You laugh at him. Jace’s eyes are on you the whole time, alighting at the sound from your lips.

“A warrior’s scar,” you tease.

“Indeed,” he says, his smile falling.

“I’m sorry,” you say quickly, “I didn’t mean to discount all you did in the war, Your Highness.”

“I know,” he says, a soft expression on his face.

You fall into a surprisingly comfortable silence as he leads you through the gardens.

“Is continuing your studies the only reason you have in coming to King’s Landing?” he asks.

“There are not many prospects for marriage in the Vale either,” you say, dropping your head.

“Ah,” he says stiffly, “You know, I find that hard to believe.”

“What?”

“That no one in the Vale would want to marry you,” he says, making you blush.

“Well, having absolutely nothing to offer in the way of a title, or even a dowry, I’m not the best candidate.”

“Even so,” he says, shaking his head in disbelief.

“How about here?” you ask, “And hope for me here?”

“I think so,” he says, looking at you intently.

“We shall see,” you say, casting your eyes away from him to look upon a rose, nearly as red as you feel.

When you get back to your chambers, all you want to do is write to Jeyne. You promised yourself you’d wait at least a week before writing to her, but after the evening you had, you aren’t certain you can wait that long.

The prince had taken you out for nearly two hours, showing you all around the Keep, asking you questions about yourself, and completely confusing the memory you had of him.

Even five years ago, he always had a way with words. His affections were clear and sweet. They were apparent still, visible in the way he looked down at you, the tender way he held your arm to his.

But what had changed was the way his actions made you feel. Before you had blushed at his brazenness and laughed along when Jeyne made fun of it. It wasn’t funny anymore. Prince Jacaerys was a man now, and whatever feelings he had would be as grown up as he was. Even with the news of Barun’s marriage, you were still here to find a husband, quickly. That man was never going to be the prince. You vowed to yourself then that you wouldn’t see him again, unless absolutely necessary.

[reverie-starlight]

{the proposal- kuroo}

on today’s episode of “rev accidentally disregards the polls she made”, we have this fic :3 I actually adore this one, it was so fun to write!! hope you enjoy <3 also… thank you sm for 1k followers 😭🫶🏻 that’s huge, I appreciate everyone sm 🥹

gn!reader, no physical descriptions. fluff fluff fluff. alcohol mentions, drunk reader. dialogue heavy at the start.

“You need to propose to me.”

Kuroo, who is enjoying his drink, begins to choke. “I what?”

You roll your eyes with a barely concealed smile.

“Not for real, silly, just a fake one.”

He looks at you like you’ve gone insane. “I’m not following.”

“We’re broke university students, do you really think we can afford to pay for more than two drinks tonight? If you propose, I bet people would make a drunken mistake and offer to buy us a celebration round.” You wiggle your eyebrows at him as he continues to give you that same incredulous look.

“That’s-“ he cuts himself off before he can finish that thought and starts with a new one. “I doubt that would work. I mean, maybe at a restaurant with free dessert, but a bar? Really?”

“I’ve seen it done in stranger places!” You defend yourself. “Besides, you’ve been sipping on your drink for the past 25 minutes. If the ice had poison in it, you’d be dead by now,” you lean back and cross your arms.

Your boyfriend just shakes his head. “Your mind is a very interesting place. Alright, fine. We’ll do it, but if it doesn’t work that’s going to be really embarrassing. Hand me your ring, I’ll do it when more people are around.”

You only have to wait another ten minutes before a group of business men having a meeting a couple of tables over appear to be drunk enough to invest in young love.

Your boyfriend nods once to signal that he’s going to do it and soon enough he’s on one knee, fake tears forming at the corners of his eyes and a dusting of pink on his cheeks that make you want to kiss them.

(Your heart jumps that the thought that he could do this for real one day).

“You’re the love of my life,” he begins, and you make a mental note that he either has a bright future in acting or his drink really is too strong, despite his insistence that he could handle it earlier.

A lady one table over gasps and draws more attention to the performance in front of the customers.

“And I absolutely adore every single thing about you. I had a whole plan for this, but with the way you’re looking tonight, I can’t wait a second longer. We’ve managed to get many years together already, and I’d be honoured to spend the rest of our lives just like this. Will you marry me?”

You’re genuinely touched at his words and the sincerity in his tone almost makes you forget it’s fake.

Not wanting to make your audience wait much longer, you make a big show of nodding your head and jumping into his crouched form with a loud “yes!”

Drunken cheers are only background noise while you press against his chest. His heartbeat eliminates the chance of you focusing on anything but him.

Kuroo tips his head down to whisper, “think we pulled it off?”

You nod against him and start to get up. He looks over to see one of the drunk business men coming over to greet you.

“Congratulations on your engagement! Let us buy the happy couple some drinks!”

The man’s face is flushed and he gestures to his table. “Order whatever you’d like, it’ll be put on our tab.”

You fake surprise. “Oh my goodness, that’s very generous of you, but we could never take advantage of your kindness like that!”

Beside you, your ‘fiancé’ stifles a laugh but the man doesn’t notice. “No, I insist! You should celebrate.”

This time Kuroo takes over. “Ah… well, thank you, sir. Rest assured we won’t go too crazy.”

The man laughs and claps him on the back. “What a polite couple of kids you are! Reminds me of me and my wife,” he winks before heading back to his table, whistling some tune.

You spin around and look up at your boyfriend with a smug grin. “So what are we getting first?”

A couple of hours later, you’re both stumbling into your campus apartment, giggling and trying to shush each other despite not having any other roommates.

You somehow manage to get through your night routines and fall back into your bed soon after. You’re a far more wasted than Kuroo is (he always drinks less than you to be able to take care of you), so he tries to get you to sip on some water.

He watches you with a silly grin as you fiddle with your “engagement” ring. You’ve since slipped it back onto your index finger where it originally was this evening, but you move it back to your ring finger and fiddle with it.

“I think…” your words are slightly slurred and laced with sleep. “I mean, I know… that I don’t want my real engagement ring to be diamond.”

His grin widens so much his cheeks begin to hurt. “No? So what will it be, baby?”

You form your own smile. “I’m sure I’ll love whatever you come up with. You know me best after all.”

He forces you to take another sip of water when your words don’t get any less coherent. While you drink he thinks of the ruby ring tucked away somewhere at Kenma’s house. You’re far too good at sniffing out clues and he’s never been good at keeping secrets from you.

You’re still in university, it’s far too soon to get engaged for real- you’ve both always said you wanted to wait until you’re done with school- but he’s been saving up for that ring since high school. he’s always knows you would be the one for him.

So when the time comes he’ll be ready. With a speech much better than whatever he said tonight.

“Alright, let’s get some sleep. You’re going to have the worst hangover tomorrow, you haven’t had that much to drink in a while.”

You tug at his wrist before he can shut the lamp off. “Wait, don’t you want to celebrate our engagement?”

“Sleep, baby.”

You pout a bit. “Don’t you think we celebrated enough tonight?”

You stare at him and he sighs. “There’s plenty of time for celebrating our fake engagement some more tomorrow,” he shuts the lamp off and wrangles you down with him. “Now it’s time for sleep.”

“‘m not tired,” you mumble, obviously lying. “I could go all night.”

You settle onto your pillow and he strokes your cheek. “I know, sweetheart, you’re a fighter.”

You nod as you begin to doze off.

He notices the ring still on your finger and he smiles softly.

The hangover you’ll be sporting tomorrow will definitely have been worth it.

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

ty for reading!!! i hope you enjoyed <3

tagging: @emmyrosee @luvring @dira333 @tetzoro

[sansaorgana]

— LADY OF THE ROSES (IV)

PART ONE || PART TWO || PART THREE

PAIRING — Ser Gwayne Hightower x fem!Reader // Tyrell!OC

SUMMARY — Gwayne and his wife visit King's Landing with their children, who are very jealous of the fact that their cousins own their dragons and they do not. In the meantime, Otto Hightower wonders if his daughter-in-law is truly loyal to his house.

AUTHOR’S NOTE — It’s written as an usual x Reader fic without describing anything about the Reader’s looks but I still classified it as an OC as well since she is a Tyrell. + You don’t have to know the previous chapters to understand this one and it's the last one of this story. 😊💚 In the show Gwayne mentions that it took him three months to get to King's Landing but I was using some website while writing previous parts where it says that it takes a week from Oldtown to Highgarden and, according to the same logic, it takes less than a month from Highgarden to King's Landing – that's why I decided to make the whole trip only a month long here. 🤔

WARNINGS — Alicent slapping Aegon's face, Reader's child getting hurt (nothing major)

WORD COUNT — 6,870

ENGLISH IS MY SECOND LANGUAGE.

LADY OF THE ROSES (IV)

Past few weeks had been busy and spent on making all the necessary preparations before the long trip. Oldtown would be left without the Lord or Lady to look after it for around three months and it required lots of training and instructing all the servants and knights around the city what to do in your absence.

You had been summoned by your father-in-law and his daughter, The Queen Consort. They had invited your Lord Husband and you to King’s Landing to spend time together – even though you had a very weird feeling the sudden need to create a stronger bond within the family was dictated by some hidden agenda. Either way, you were rather excited for the trip even though it would take about a month on the road to even get to the capital city of Westeros.

What stressed you the most was travelling for so long with four children you had given Gwayne for the past few years. Your eldest son Edmund was twelve now and his brother William was ten. Your daughter Rosalynd was eight and her sister Florys was six. You were glad that the time when you had been pregnant nearly constantly was over now and you could enjoy the ups and downs of motherhood without many worries because your husband was a man devoted to his family. Gwayne had not only been raising his sons and teaching them all they needed to know about the sword but he also made sure to spend quality time with his daughters. And above that all, he was simply a caring and sweet husband. No matter how many years had passed.

Your trip started in the very early morning and you all were half asleep while getting inside the carriage. Rosalynd was sleeping with her head on your lap and little Florys was asleep in her father’s arms. Edmund and William were looking out of the window, excited and interested in everything that they were seeing although the road to The Highgarden was very well known to them. Because you lived so close to your parents, your children were often visiting their castle. 

What started peacefully, soon turned out to be a little nightmare. The children were very whiny and easily getting bored. When you reached The Highgarden a week after leaving Oldtown, you were seriously considering coming back home instead of going further down the Rose Road. 

“It is only the beginning of the trip and it is already exhausting,” you complained to your parents during supper when you were staying overnight at their place.

“You might not get a second chance to go to King’s Landing, my darling,” your father reminded you. “Endure it.”

“Easier said than done, I’m afraid,” Gwayne chuckled and shook his head.

“I do not understand,” your mother spoke up. “Look at them, my grandchildren,” she smiled at the four of your children eating their meals quietly. “They’re so well-behaved. Little angels, really,” she sighed lovingly.

“Perhaps we might leave them here for three moons, how about that?” Your eyes sparkled at the idea. “We shall leave for King's Landing on the morrow while you watch over them.”

“I would love to,” your mother grinned.

“I would not,” your father’s eyes widened at the idea.

“I do not think that is a good idea, my Lady,” Gwayne put his hand on top of yours gently and you looked at him, confused. “To spend three moons without my little ones would be a nightmare,” he explained and your smile dropped.

Gwayne was right. You would miss your children dearly, too. You were sending them sometimes to spend two weeks at The Highgarden with their grandparents and given the fact the trip lasted a week, it would be a month away from you. It was barely bearable already whenever it happened. Three months sounded like torture.

“My Gwayne is right,” you sighed and laid your tired eyes on your mother. “They must go with us. Also, just like Lord Father said, such a chance might not happen again. They should see King’s Landing, too,” you nodded.

In the early morning of the next day, you were already back on the Rose Road, which took you through the town of Bitterbridge to The Kingswood where you entered The Kingsroad and The Crownlands. You had never been there and only two times before you had been on the road for such a long time. Both times it had been to attend your sister’s weddings. One had taken place in Dorne and the second had been in The Vale. 

Once you entered The Kingsroad, it would only take you a few days to reach King’s Landing and you were more than grateful for that. Both you and Gwayne were exhausted after trying to entertain your children on the road and attempting to tame their tantrums caused by boredom and frustration.

The night before reaching King’s Landing you were sleeping at the castle of some lesser Lord who lived nearby the road. You had been given the guest rooms but you couldn’t fall asleep, both excited and anxious about the next day.

“What are you possibly scared of, my love?” Gwayne soothed you by caressing your face with his fingertips when you were laying in his arms and staring at the ceiling instead of drifting off to the land of dreams. “You had met my father already and he seems to be quite indifferent towards you,” he pointed out.

Otto Hightower had visited Oldtown a few times after your wedding to his son and what Gwayne had said was painfully true – he seemed to be indifferent towards you. Just like he was indifferent towards his own son. The only signs of affection you had seen in him were for your daughters. He hadn’t even thanked you for giving him two healthy grandsons and heirs – his attention had been fully focused on the girls. It was quite adorable, you had to admit. But it was also saddening for your husband and sons.

“What about your sister? The King? Will our children get along with their cousins?” You voiced out all your insecurities in a low whisper. “And The Targaryens… I do fear them, Gwayne. People say they are more gods than men.”

“I am sure they are men just like you and I,” Gwayne smiled and kissed your forehead while caressing your arm.

“They have dragons…” You sighed.

“We probably will not even encounter one,” he assured you. “And do not be afraid of my sister or her husband. Are you not always reminding everyone that you are a sister-in-law of The Queen? Now it is time to meet her personally,” he teased and you rolled your eyes.

You somehow managed to get some sleep on that night. In the morning you had your dress prepared already because you had been planning to wear it for quite a long time. Your maids helped you to put on the elegant green gown that was pretty low-cut. You were a daughter of The Highgarden and you had never stopped wearing such necklines. Your own Lord Husband had given up already on trying to change that – in fact, he enjoyed it. You decorated your exposed neck with a golden pendant of The Seven-Pointed Star to make Queen Alicent happy.

Gwayne found it quite funny but you gave him a scolding look.

Your children had green outfits, too. Pretty little green dresses on your girls and dark green tunics with The Hightower beacon embroidered on them on your boys. The Hightowers were coming to King’s Landing.

When you reached the city you were staring out of the window with as much curiosity as your children. Gwayne had been in the capital once before for the tournament when he had been very young so his excitement was not as big.

Lots of people were staring at your carriage with a hint of curiosity. They knew that The Hightowers were The Queen’s family and for that reason some of them waved shyly at you. You were trying to wave back but Rosalynd and Florys were the ones who actually enjoyed it the most – feeling like little Princesses greeting the crowd. So, you allowed them to have fun as you leaned back on your seat. Your hand found Gwayne’s immediately and you squeezed it.

“You better be on your best behaviour once we reach The Red Keep,” you told your sons. “All of you,” you laid your eyes on your giggling daughters.

“You do not need to worry, mother,” Edmund nodded at you and straightened his back, trying to present himself more mature.

“I cannot wait to train with my cousins,” William added. “Father, will we be able to?”

“I do think so,” Gwayne nodded with a smile at him and leaned in to fix William’s ruffled hair.

“I cannot wait to spend time with Princess Helaena,” Rosalynd sighed dreamily. “She must be so ethereal… A Targaryen Princess…”

“I want to see grampa,” Florys’ eyes sparkled and you chuckled at your sweet little girl.

You smiled nervously at your husband when you realised you were already entering The Red Keep’s courtyard and a few people were waiting for you. You spotted your tall father-in-law and that beautiful woman standing next to him had to be Queen Alicent herself. She had soft, curly hair in the auburn colour and her dress was of the same shade of green as yours. You sincerely hoped it would not be considered rude of you but you had no idea. There were three silver-haired children with them – two boys and a girl. They had to be Prince Aegon, Princess Helaena and Prince Aemond.

“Grampa!” Florys clapped her hands excitedly and already moved to the carriage’s door.

“Florys, mummy and daddy are leaving the carriage first,” you reminded her softly.

“Do try to behave like a big girl!” Her older sister scolded her. “We are in King’s Landing!”

“Rosalynd, you are not her Lady Mother,” Gwayne reminded his daughter.

In the meantime, the servant announced your family and opened the door of the carriage. You took a deep breath in and watched your husband get out before offering you his hand to help you. You took it softly and wore a nervous smile before facing your in-laws.

The moment your feet touched the ground, you felt something moving behind your skirts. It was little Florys jumping out of the carriage already and running as fast as possible towards her grandfather. Everyone froze for a moment and widened their eyes at the scene.

“Grampa!” Florys reached her hands out and Otto Hightower let out a nervous chuckle before crouching down to give her a tight squeeze.

“You are being impatient, Lady Florys,” he greeted her and she clapped her hands.

Rosalynd stood by your side with a sigh and an eye-roll. Meanwhile, your sons chose to stand by their father. Since Florys had broken all the protocols already anyway, you decided to simply walk up to The Queen without caring about the right order as you nodded at your husband. He nodded back and only then Rosalynd ran up to her grandfather as well to give him a hug, too.

You sighed and shook your head before walking up to Queen Alicent herself. Your sons followed you and Gwayne while Otto whispered something to the girls, which made their faces go serious as they joined your side, too. You all bowed down respectfully. 

“My Queen,” you greeted her.

“Sister,” Gwayne kissed the palm of her hand.

From the corner of your eye you spotted the older Prince yawning. Queen Alicent blushed and pushed him slightly with her elbow.

“I see we both struggle when it comes to disciplining our offspring,” she smiled at you but you noticed how she looked down at your low-cut dress and the religious pendant on your exposed chest. She chewed on the inside of her cheek at the sight but she decided not to comment.

“Lady Hightower,” your father-in-law kissed the palm of your hand.

“Lord Father,” you greeted him and he gave you a shadow of a smile.

At his son, he only nodded. Gwayne nodded back and clenched his jaw.

“My grandsons,” Otto approached your boys and shook their hands. “Let me introduce the young Princes to you,” he pointed at the silver-haired boys standing by Queen Alicent’s side. “Prince Aegon, Prince Aemond.”

“Lord Edmund,” Edmund introduced himself and extended his hand towards Aegon. Prince Aegon looked him up and down and after a while of hesitation, he shook your son’s hand.

“Lord William,” your younger boy introduced himself and reached out for Aemond’s hand. Prince Aemond shook it shyly.

“Are you Princess Helaena?” Rosalynd stood in front of the Princess with Florys hiding behind her. 

The silver-haired girl widened her eyes and looked pretty startled. She took a step back and Rosalynd furrowed her brow.

“Princess Helaena is of a… rather timid nature,” Queen Alicent explained.

“Let us come inside, you must be exhausted after the journey,” Otto pointed at the doors leading to the castle.

“Do not even get me started, Lord Father,” Gwayne chuckled. “And certainly do not get my Lady Wife started,” he added teasingly and you shot him a scolding glance.

The first day was pretty chaotic because everyone was exhausted but also excited to see as much as possible of The Red Keep. Otto Hightower gave you and your children a tour himself. The only place he avoided were the chambers of The King who was ill and you had already been told you would not see him most likely.

Gwayne had already seen The Red Keep before but it had been before his sister was The Queen so now he was allowed in more places. He joined your little tour and kept his hands on your sons’ shoulders, while your daughters were holding Otto’s hands. 

To your surprise, during the supper, you quite befriended Queen Alicent. Of course she was still frowning upon your dress but you bonded over the experience of motherhood.

“The Red Keep is so green now,” your father-in-law pointed out happily at the sight of you, his children and grandchildren by the long table. All dressed in green clothes to show off their Hightower surname. “It makes me glad. Gwayne, I would like to have a word with you after supper.”

“Tomorrow, father,” Gwayne shook his head. “We are tired after the journey.”

Otto didn’t say anything to that but he gave his son quite an unpleasant look. You squeezed your husband’s hand underneath the table and caressed the palm of his hand lovingly to soothe him.

You retired to your chambers pretty early because you were longing for the comforts of a bed. Your husband and children followed and you made sure they all found their rooms and beds before you went to your own chambers.

“What do you think is the matter he wishes to discuss with you?” You asked Gwayne while brushing your hair in front of the mirror by the vanity table. He was sitting up on the bed and watching you with admiration in his eyes as every evening. “Do you think it is something about Oldtown?”

“No,” Gwayne shakes his head. “Those instructions have always been sent to us by ravens. It must be something about… the future and its possibilities.”

“And what is that supposed to mean?” You furrowed your brow and turned around to see his face better.

“You know that my father wants Prince Aegon on The Iron Throne, not Princess Rhaenyra,” your husband reminded you. “And The King might die soon. We are not even allowed to see him.”

“They say he is slowly decaying with each passing day,” you winced when you imagined such a thing happening to a person.

“That must be a terrible fate,” Gwayne sighed. “However, his death will bring the conflict of succession.”

“What conflict?” You asked. “Aegon is his eldest son.”

Gwayne squinted his eyes and then shook his head with a chuckle.

“My father is underestimating you, my sweetling,” he hummed to himself. “Now, come here, since we are sleeping in The Red Keep, I want to make you feel like a Princess,” he opened his arms for you to join him but you only scoffed and put the hairbrush down before fixing your hair with your hands.

“I am not a child anymore, Lord Husband,” you teased. “You shall make me feel like a Queen.”

You and Queen Alicent were sitting in the garden together and watching your daughters trying to befriend each other. Rosalynd and Florys were pretty grossed out and shocked to see Princess Helaena sitting on the grass and picking up all sorts of bugs and insects to examine with her curious eyes. She handed Rosalynd a spider once and your daughter nearly fainted at the sight.

Princess Helaena was of a gentle nature, though. She seemed to like her younger cousins and she was whispering to them all the details about every bug she was picking up. Florys was more interested in them than Rosalynd. Your eight years old daughter was often shooting you meaningful glances but you were only smiling at her in return.

The young princes and your sons were training together in the courtyard with Gwayne and Ser Criston Cole, whom you had recently met. You wondered how it was going, so you decided to finally put Rosalynd out of her misery.

“Shall we check on our sons, Your Grace?” You asked Queen Alicent but she seemed to be surprised.

“What for?” She inquired. “Are they not with the men who teach them?”

“I like to watch my sons while they train and cheer for them,” you told her and smiled softly. She visibly did not understand the appeal of it but she stood up from the bench and you followed. “Girls,” you looked behind your shoulder and extended your hand. “Come.”

Florys ran up to you to take your hand while Rosalynd and Helaena followed quietly behind you. You could hear your daughter desperately trying to start a conversation she was dying to have with a real Princess.

“You must own so many beautiful dresses, Helaena! What is your favourite colour?”

“Beige,” Helaena answered, clearly uninterested but also not wanting to make her cousin sad.

“Nice…” Rosalynd sighed and you could hear that she was disappointed in that answer. “Do you think you could give me some of your old dresses that do not fit you anymore?”

“Rosalynd!” You gasped as you scolded her.

“That is quite alright, Lady Hightower. We shall gift Rosalynd some of Helaena’s old dresses,” Queen Alicent nodded at you and caressed her daughter’s head lovingly.

“Thank you, my Queen,” you smiled at her and then you gave Rosalynd a meaningful look.

“Thank you, aunt,” the girl bowed down happily.

You reached the courtyard but to your surprise, your sons and the young princes were spending time together on their own, whispering and laughing about something, while your husband seemed to be in the middle of an argument with the other knight.

“Is that what you teach them, Ser Criston?” Gwayne was irritated. “Knights shall be chivalrous and rightful.”

“They are no knights, Ser Gwayne, for they are young princes,” Ser Criston answered.

“Gwayne,” you approached them quickly to stand beside your husband and rub his arm before intertwining yours with his. “How is the training going?”

“Oh, rather marvellous, Lady Wife,” he answered, his voice filled with irony and mockery as he looked Ser Criston up and down. “I have a fascinating conversation with Ser Criston here about the manners of a knight. Perhaps they do not teach them in Dorne.”

“You are from Dorne, Ser?” You tried to change the subject as you looked at the man standing in front of you.

“Yes, my Lady,” Ser Criston nodded at you.

“My sister Olenna married a lesser Lord from Dorne,” you told him. “A Toland,” you explained.

“I hope she has found her happiness with him, my Lady,” Ser Criston cracked a smile at you, which made Gwayne move uncomfortably.

“Barely,” you had to admit with a sigh and Ser Criston’s smile turned into a frown.

Before the conversation would become even more awkward, you were interrupted by Edmund and William running up to you and tugging onto your skirts, making both you and your husband turn around.

“What is it?” You asked them.

“Can we go to the dragon pit to see the dragons?!” William’s eyes widened out of excitement.

“I do not think that is a good idea,” you shook your head as your heart skipped a beat out of fear at the thought.

“We only wish to see them,” Edmund explained. “Father…”

“Your mother is right,” Gwayne agreed with you.

“But should not a knight be brave? I want to see a dragon and so does William!” Edmund insisted and sadly, the mention of the knighthood convinced your husband – especially after an argument with Ser Criston about the very same matter.

“Alright then, but be careful you two,” Gwayne nodded and you watched with terror in your eyes as two of your sons ran away to join their cousins and a few servants on the way.

“Gwayne…!” You gasped.

“Worry not,” Queen Alicent’s voice made you turn around. “The Dragonkeepers and the guards are there.”

After hearing this, your daughters seemed to be interested as well. Rosalynd gave you puppy eyes.

“Can we go, too, mother?” She asked.

“Are you a squire, Rosalynd? Or Florys – is she?” You shook your head.

“Let them go, my Lady. It is better to feed the curiosity instead of letting it grow,” Ser Criston spoke and you shot him a deadly glance but you were sort of forced to agree to your daughter’s request now.

You nodded, reluctantly and watched the girls run away to join their brothers and cousins. Princess Helaena remained by her mother’s side, though.

“What about the young Princess?” Gwayne asked her with a smile and lifted her chin up gently with his finger.

“I do not find pleasure in flying, uncle,” she admitted.

You quickly regretted your decision to allow your children to see the dragons. They seemed to be mesmerised by the creatures and they could not stop whining about the fact they did not have their own beasts to ride.

“They are our cousins, mother,” Edmund kept whining to you on your way back from the supper. “Vhagar is so huge… It is so unfair we do not have any dragons and they do have so many!”

“They are princes and you are lords,” you reminded him. “They are Targaryens and you are Hightowers,” you added. “There is no shame in being different.”

“We are not different, Lady Mother,” Rosalynd rolled her eyes. “We are simply worse.”

“I am not jealous,” Florys saved the day with her sweet confession although her siblings shot her a deadly glance. She clinged to her father’s hand and sighed. “Dragons are big and I am small,” she explained and you chuckled because you found her reasoning adorable.

��You are just a coward because you are a girl!” William pointed out.

“I am a girl, too!” Rosalynd protested. “And I am not afraid. In fact, I would surely have a bigger dragon than you!”

“That is enough,” Gwayne shushed them. “Go to your beds, all of you. Sweet dreams about dragons – dreams, only,” he pointed out with a chuckle but the children did not find it funny.

“Goodnight, daddy, mummy,” Florys nodded and dragged Rosalynd with her to their shared chambers. Your older daughter only mumbled her goodnight.

“Goodnight,” Edmund and William both nodded and walked away, still frustrated and offended by the injustice of life and your light treatment of their situation.

You and Gwayne looked at each other and chuckled before going to your own bedroom.

You were asleep in your husband’s arms. The bed you shared in The Red Keep was twice as big as the one you had in Oldtown but you still were sleeping close in the middle of it. Your face was buried in the thin fabric of his shirt and Gwayne had his chin on top of your head and his arms wrapped around you just like yours were wrapped around his chest.

Sudden, loud and rapid knocking upon your doors made you both startle in your sleep and open your eyes. Gwayne sat up and rubbed his eyes and you hid your yawn with your hand.

“What is it?!” Your husband grunted and left the bed to grab a robe laying on the chair and put it on loosely. You sat up as well and watched his silhouette approaching the doors in the darkness of the room. “Someone better be dying,” Gwayne opened the doors and looked the servant up and down.

“F-forgive me for the rapid interruption, my Lord, my Lady…” The man stuttered. He was holding a candle to light up the room a little. “It is about your children…”

Your heart skipped a beat at that and you jumped out of the bed to stand behind your husband.

“What is it? What happened?!” You inquired. “Which children?”

“Lord Edmund is hurt, my Lady. Lord William and Lady Rosalynd seem to be alright but they were involved in it, too,” the servant swallowed thickly after delivering the dreadful news.

“Hurt?!” You squealed and squeezed your husband’s arm out of fear.

“Involved in what?” Gwayne furrowed his eyebrow.

“Apparently, young lords and the lady attempted to claim their own dragons with the help of Prince Aegon,” the servant explained and you nearly fainted at the news. Gwayne’s face went a shade paler in an instant.

“Where are they now?” He asked.

“Everyone is gathering, my Lord. You are expected in the dining hall,” he explained and walked away.

“Gods…” You whimpered and grabbed the very first dress to put on over your nightgown. You did not care much about your appearance at such a moment. Your hands were shaking because you were worried about your children, especially Edmund who was hurt.

Looking presentable enough, both you and Gwayne hurried downstairs and straight into the dining hall. Queen Alicent was there, too and so were Ser Cole and your father-in-law. Your eldest son was being looked after by a maester while William and Rosalynd were standing behind him with their heads kept low. Florys was scared and clinging to Otto’s hand. Prince Aegon looked pretty terrified, too, and he was not even smirking or laughing as usual.

“What happened?! Edmund!” You left Gwayne’s side to rush to your son. Your heart clenched inside your chest at the sight of his cheek burnt slightly. His lips and eyes were unharmed and for that he was lucky but there was a long burnt line on his cheek that would surely not heal completely and leave a scar. “Oh, Edmund…!” You sobbed and pressed the good side of his face to your chest.

“I am alright, mother,” he whispered.

“What were you thinking?!” Gwayne lost his temper but you knew it was dictated by worry and fear. “Grown tired of living, have you?!” He addressed William and Rosalynd now and they both looked away, ashamed.

“I did not go, daddy!” Florys exclaimed proudly. “And I was telling them it was a bad idea!”

“Shut your mouth, Florys!” Rosalynd scolded her and Florys hid herself behind her grandfather. Gwayne clenched his jaw.

“Do not speak to your sister this way, Rosalynd. Do not speak at all, I advise,” he pointed his finger at his daughter and she looked down again. “Whose idea was it?!”

Both William and Rosalynd pointed their fingers at Edmund. Even Florys stuck her little hand out from behind her grandfather to point at her eldest brother.

“Traitors!” Edmund shouted at them.

You looked down at your son’s face. He winced while the maester was putting an ointment on his injury.

“You’re scarred for life,” you sniffled your tears back. “My sweet boy…”

“I have nearly gained a dragon,” he told you proudly. “And the scar does not bother me, mother, for I have survived the attempt. I shall try again soon.”

“You could never own a dragon, son! Only Targaryens can own and ride them! It is common knowledge!” Gwayne raised his hands up as if he was giving up.

Aegon moved uncomfortably while Edmund shot him a glance full of hatred.

“What is it?” Queen Alicent asked, already sensing her own son’s involvement in this whole thing being much worse than she had expected.

“It was Aegon!” Edmund’s lower lip trembled suddenly. “He told us we could gain our own dragons, too! That we can claim the spare ones or Helaena’s since she has no interest in it!” He confessed.

Now everyone’s angry eyes were laid upon the young Prince. He huffed with an eye roll but his cheeks turned crimson red.

“I did not know,” he whispered. “I did not know that only we can ride them.”

You were filled with rage. Your eldest son liked to pretend he was more mature than the rest of his siblings but he was only twelve after all – he was still a child. Prince Aegon was the eldest out of the cousins and he should had known better.

“You have cruelly teased my children to risk their lives… To… To possibly lose them and die!” You approached him angrily and began to shake him by his arms. You couldn't care less that he was a Prince. You wanted him punished. “And now you are playing a fool by saying such a stupidity! You insolent son of a–”

“(Y/N),” Gwayne stopped you as he rushed to you and put his hand on your shoulder but you shrugged it off.

“Edmund has a scar for life!” You sobbed again.

“Mother, I am alright!” Your son’s voice reached your ears.

“I did not know…!” Scared Aegon was trying to get out of your grip and Queen Alicent was attempting to help him by pushing your hands away.

“Lady Hightower, be reasonable!” She pleaded. “I shall punish my son accordingly but it is my punishment to give him, not yours!”

“My children could have died! All of them!” You screamed at her.

“Not me!” Florys squealed.

“Shush, my darling,” Otto scolded her gently. “All of us should calm down now. After all, everybody is alive, thank Gods,” he pointed out and you pushed Aegon away before angrily turning around.

The maester was no longer sitting by Edmund’s side and now you approached your boy to grab him by his shirt and drag him towards Otto.

“Look at him! My son nearly died!” You yelled at him. “Do not order me to calm down, Lord Father!”

“Mother, let go of me, it hurts,” Edmund whined and you stopped pulling him by his shirt but your whole body was trembling out of anger, fear and frustration. “Young Prince Aegon should learn how to treat other people, especially the weaker ones…” You patted your own chest with your fist and your son huffed at the word weaker. “...if you wish to put him on the throne!” You finished and the whole room went silent.

It was something that should not be said out loud. Thankfully, everyone inside the dining hall was on the same side when it came to the conflict of succession.

“That is enough, my Lady,” Gwayne shook his head and put his hands on your shoulders to walk you out of his surprised father’s sight. “I am sure Prince Aegon will be punished for his behaviour by his own parents.”

“I did not know, I swear!” Aegon whined. “I would not want cousin Edmund or cousin William to get hurt and especially not cousin Rosalynd!”

“Save it!” Queen Alicent scolded him angrily and slapped his face. “You have outdone yourself this time, Aegon!”

Gwayne was rubbing your arms soothingly and pressed you closer to his body by putting his hand in the back of your head. Your heartbeat was slowing down and your breath was coming back to normal.

“I think we should all agree to collectively remove Lady Hightower’s accusation from our memories,” Otto spoke calmly. “And that it is time to go back to our beds.”

All of your children approached you, clinging to your skirts, except for Edmund who felt stupid and guilty now, embarrassed. He was looking down and clasped his hands behind his back but Gwayne put his hand around his shoulders to pull him closer.

“Your grandfather is right, it is time to go back to our beds. If we manage to fall asleep after such a night,” he pointed out.

Prince Aegon did not show up for the breakfast and you were glad he did not because you would tear him apart if you saw him. Now, after taking a better look at your son’s injury in the morning light, you were heartbroken. His scar would probably look intimidating when he would become the fearsome knight he wanted to be but you were his mother and your heart ached for him. 

The breakfast overall was pretty quiet and after the meal Gwayne took your sons to the courtyard to continue their training while Rosalynd and Florys followed Queen Alicent to Princess Helaena’s chambers for the girls to embroider together. Rosalynd also hoped to try on some of Princess Helaena’s dresses. You considered not allowing her to take any as a form of punishment for yesterday's stunt but you eventually decided it would be too cruel.

You were asked by your father-in-law to see him after breakfast and you kind of dreaded the conversation because you had a feeling what it would be about. Gwayne wanted to accompany you but you disagreed because it would make you look weak and scared. You had to face Otto Hightower alone. Gwayne had reluctantly agreed but he had assured you that he would remain by your side no matter what your father-in-law would say to you.

On your way to his chambers, you walked past Prince Aegon’s room. The doors were ajar and he was sitting on the edge of his bed. At first, seeing him brought back all the memories from the last night and all the anger. But after a short while of staring at him, you noticed that he was… sad.

It confused you as you kept staring and in the meantime, he spotted your presence. He got startled a little, knowing that you were alone now since his guard was nowhere to be seen and his mother was not there to push you away if you attacked him again.

He approached the doors to close them but he kept glancing at you like a beaten dog and even dared to speak.

“Is my cousin alright, aunt?” He asked quietly, his voice filled with guilt and worry. Suddenly, you started to have a feeling he had not been lying. Perhaps he truly had not known about the Targaryens being the only people who could ride dragons.

It would not surprise you because your father-in-law had been complaining about Prince Aegon not wanting to study his books and his knowledge of High Valyrian was… questionable.

“Edmund is quite alright,” you nodded at him and took a step ahead before he would close the doors. “Can we talk?”

Aegon hesitated but he looked down and nodded, letting you inside. You entered his chambers and looked around, humming at the sight of a wine goblet on his nightstand table.

“I truly did not know about the dragons, I am sorry,” Aegon confessed. “I know I am of a rather careless nature but I would not risk my cousins’ life,” he added and you sighed.

After a short while of hesitation, you approached him and caressed his hair before putting a silver strand behind his ear and lifting his chin up to make him look into your eyes.

“I am sorry for my outburst, young Prince. I do believe you now,” you assured him with a soft smile. “It still was irresponsible and foolish but I see now that your intentions were not malicious,” you nodded and his eyes sparkled at your words.

“Really? You do believe me, aunt?” He couldn’t be convinced and it made you sad to see it.

“I do,” you moved your hand away from his face. “To see a scar on my son’s face is painful for a mother but I do realise he does not mind it at all and he is proud of how he gained it. Let it be then,” you sighed. “It cannot be undone anyway.”

A short while of silence occurred between you two and you smiled at Aegon before approaching the doors again.

“You should join uncle Gwayne and my sons in the courtyard, my Prince. They are training with Ser Cole and young Prince Aemond,” you encouraged him. “And I shall leave now to speak with your grandfather.”

Aegon nodded at you and you left his chambers to hurry to Otto Hightower’s room where he was already waiting for you. He gave you a scolding look when you entered.

“What took you so long, Lady Hightower?” He asked, sitting on an armchair by the fireplace.

“I was stopped on the way, Lord Father,” you explained calmly and he pointed at the armchair next to his. You took a seat there and waited for him to start the conversation.

“We shall speak about last night,” he started.

“I do believe it was your idea to remove my accusations from the memory,” you reminded and he shot you an unpleasant glance.

“I need to know where you stand,” he looked deep into your eyes.

“Where do I stand?” You furrowed your brows. “What does it matter?”

“You have a great influence on my son. Much bigger than a wife should have on any man,” Otto pointed out. “I need to know I can trust you.”

“Speak plainly, Lord Father,” you challenged him with a head held high. “And I shall tell you.”

Otto hesitated as he looked at the dancing flames for a while. You waited patiently until he eventually laid his eyes on you again with the most serious expression.

“Do you support Prince Aegon as the future King of the Andals and the Rhoynar and the First Men?” Otto lowered his voice – his whispers were nearly audible.

“I believe you wish to know if I support your treason,” you raised an eyebrow and Otto clenched his jaw. “I do,” you nodded. “Prince Aegon is half-Hightower and I shall always support my family,” you added and stood up. “Does that answer satisfy you, my Lord? I shall join my sons and husband in the courtyard. I have promised them to watch their training,” you explained.

“You can go,” Otto dismissed you and you turned around but then you stopped.

“Lord Father?” You looked at him one more time.

“Yes?” He looked up to meet your gaze with furrowed brows.

“I shall ensure that my own Lord Father – Lord Tyrell – supports King Aegon when the time comes,” you promised.

Otto only nodded at you and you nodded back before walking out of his chambers and hurrying downstairs to the courtyard.

You smiled at the sight of your boys being instructed by their father. Prince Aegon joined them in the meantime as well and you waved at them all before taking a seat on the bench as usual – to watch and cheer.

After giving your sons their instructions, Gwayne gave them some space and joined your side as he sat next to you.

“What did my father want from you, darling?” He asked, worryingly.

“He wondered about my loyalty,” you scoffed and looked up at your husband’s face to fix a reckless auburn hair strand falling onto his face. “As if I didn’t give him four grandchildren to inherit his wealth and titles. As if I didn’t run Oldtown in his name for years. As if I didn’t love his son with every heartbeat of mine,” you finished quietly and a slight blush brightened your husband’s cheeks.

“Last night must have frightened him,” Gwayne explained. “You were rather furious with Prince Aegon.”

“Every parent would be,” you rolled your eyes. “Were you not furious, too?”

“I was but I did not show it,” Gwayne pointed out.

“Every person reacts differently,” you shrugged. “Either way, such conflicts always happen sooner or later between the family members. I shall not take them outside,” you assured Gwayne and took his hand to squeeze it. “I gave birth to four Hightowers. How could I play on any other team?” You asked, genuinely.

Gwayne squeezed your hand back and moved a little closer to you, as much as his armour allowed him. You both watched your sons train with loving smiles on your faces.

At one point, young Prince Aegon looked at you and smiled at you nervously. You smiled back and waved at him even, which caused his own smile to grow wider. Poor boy had no idea what responsibility was being plotted to be put onto his back.

MASTERLIST

[justauthoring]

a promise he'll keep.

requested! -> also “who did this to you” with astarion would go absolutely bonkers. food for thought requested by! -> @the-sunflower-room

a/n -> thank you for your request! i saw your other one as well and definitely plan on writing it hopefully soon! also! i literally have been in love with this man since the game came out but im so nervous about writing for him i never gained the courage... tho, meeting neil yesterday made it feel like its only write i finally commit and write to him!

tw -> mention of blood, bruises and cuts/violence

pairing -> astarion x f!reader/tav

blood poured from the rather large cut across the side of your forehead, staining your skin and seeping into the tiny cuts littered across your cheek and jaw. bruises lined your neck, in the shape of a hands, and astarion was sure that the rest of your body mimicked the damage across your face.

armour torn, shaking and hurt, astarion's heart burns with a rage he's not felt in a long time.

long ago had he forgotten about the bloodlust of fighting. long ago had he healed from the trauma of his past. years had passed since astarion had first met you and years had passed since the both of you, along with the rest of your companions, healed yourselves from the parasites in your mind and effectively, saved the world.

your bodies had never quite healed though. the trauma of what you'd both experienced had never faded and most likely never would. you'd both accepted that as a fact of your lives and used each other as a means of healing from it.

it had been years since astarion has seen you bloodied and hurt like this, and it feels ten times worse then it ever had before. never a fighter, the second you'd no longer been forced to fight for survival, astarion knows you'd given up that part of your life.

you were strong. there was no doubting that. you could hold yourself and you'd proved that well enough given what you'd done for the world and most importantly, your companions. more than anything, you'd proved that with how you saved astarion from his tormentor and the horror of his past.

but you look so vulnerable in that moment; broken and hurt and bruised and his chest tightens, nails digging into the palms of his hands as the rage coarses through him, burning his veins and has him desperate to make whoever hurt you pay.

painfully.

"who..." and his words hesitate, the fire his chest making it hard to find his words. he doesn't want you to think any of his anger is directed at you... "who did this to you?"

you twitch at his words, arms coming around to hold yourself as you shiver, hesitating.

astarion's face falls.

taking a step towards you, he reaches out for you, hands moving to cup your cheeks, gently and wary of your wounds. he worries you'll pull away, given how afraid you are, but you know astarion and recognize his touch and some of the rage fades with concern and love for you as you lean into his touch.

his fingers work to brush the blood from your face, get rid of the dirt and grime that clings to your skin and tries to soothe you.

your eyes flutter shut in response.

"i'm sorry," astarion whispers. "i'm sorry, i don't mean to scare you."

you shake your head, humming in disagreement. "you didn't scare me."

astarion hates the way your voice trembles.

"i don't want you getting hurt for me," you explain. "you don't deserve that."

and astarion shakes his head. "it doesn't matter if it's you." he assures and he frowns when he realizes he might've not made that clear enough. he had a lot to make up for if you think that he wouldn't do anything for you. "i can't let them get away with hurting you like this."

"i'm okay," you try to deny.

astarion just tightens his grip on you, not enough to hurt you, of course, but enough to pull your attention on him. "you're not," he argues, desperate for you to understand how much it pains him to see you hurt like this. "you're bleeding, y/n. and fuck... you're hurt, badly. it breaks my heart to see you like this."

your eyes fall on him at that. wide eyes meeting his own as your lips part, as if shocked by his admission. maybe shocked wasn't the word—he likes to think the expression on your face is one of reassurance at how much his heart burns with love for you.

the tears that you'd been holding back fall then, your bravety and strength fading at astarion's warming and soothing words. they build at the corner of your eyes and astarion is quick to brush them away.

"i'll never let them hurt you again," he promises then, meaning every word of what he says. he says them with confidence, desperation and sincerity, eyes softening with a plea as he holds onto you, afraid you might slip from his very fingers. "them or anyone else."

your hand grabs his, squeezing.

"i know," you whisper, "this isn't your fault."

he just shakes his head; "it's whoever did this to you's fault," he assures, although the twinge of guilt that festers in his belly is undeniable. he should've been there with you, keeping you safe; even if you knew you were capable of keeping yourself safe... having him there would've assured him and would've stopped this from ever happening.

"y/n," he calls again, voice soft, measured and even as he stares into your eyes and doesn't let you pull away. "who did this to you?"

and your lips part, breathing shakily but there's an ease that washes across your expression and then the names of the men who hurt you come pouring from your lips.

astarion memorizies them, keeps them trapped in his mind as he nods. "thank you." and he is thankful. thankful that you trust him to do what he'd promised. thankful that you know he won't fail you.

"i'll make it better, okay?" he whispers, his thumb stroking across your cheek as he pulls you into his arms, a hand falling on the back of your neck to press you into his chest. "i promise."

you hum your response, leaning into his touch before letting him guide towards your home so he can dress and clean your wounds.

and most importanly, shower you in the love you deserve.

[yougavemeyourheartyouknow]

Miguel’s and reader’s meet cute (baby daddy AU: College days prequels)

Baby Daddy Masterlist

Not proofread.

Word count: 900

Taglist is closed!!

—

Miguel had always been told from his elders that college was going to be a fresh start. A new school, a new roommate, new possible friends, new opportunities, a new path to his future. He had been preparing and planning how his freshmen year would go the second he finished walking the stage at his high school.

So far, things were going to plan, he made it to his first set of classes early to get a good seat, although not in the front due to his height (he didn’t want to be an ass to the people behind him), was able to get up early in the morning to go to the gym, his relationship with his roommate Peter was even going well. Although he was a bit more of an extrovert then himself, they still got along fairly fine. So far everything has worked out for him.

His third day of classes was going just like the first two did, waking up around eight a.m, working out till ten, getting a protein shake and some breakfast, then be at his first class by twelve. To his surprise though, the lecture hall was already almost filled despite him being ten minutes early. Making sure to take a mental note to try arriving a bit early as he took one of the few lingering seats in the back row between a girl and another guy.

The girl next to him shot him a quick smile when she saw him sitting in the empty seat to her right, one to which he returned before going to quietly set up his laptop for note taking. She was quite pretty, her hair clipped up into a ponytail, long-sleeve cream top and some flared leggings, a black backpack hanging off her chair and a metal water bottle covered in stickers next to her laptop, also covered in stickers. But despite her warm and welcoming presence, Miguel decided to pay her no mind as he idly waited for class to start.

After another few minutes, the professor finally began. Droning on mostly about the course expectations and grade requirements, before he starts his actual lesson. The room was mostly quiet except the professor and the occasional murmur from other students talking between one another about the subject. Miguel was so sucked into the lecture, he barely noticed the quiet tapping of a finger on his desk.

“Hey. Excuse me.” The quiet whisper pulled him back to present time, turning to the source of the voice, the pretty girl who’s sitting next to him. “Hey sorry, I didn’t pick up the last thing he said, it’s kinda hard to hear him from up here. Can I…” you trailed off, pointing towards his laptop. Usually, Miguel would scoff at the implication of someone asking him to take a glance at his notes, telling them to ask someone else or maybe pay better attention. But for the pretty girl in his statistics class…

“Yeah here.” He whispered back, turning his laptop to his side so she could see better, giving her a moment to write it down before turning it back to its original spot.

“Thanks.”

“Course.”

That’s were the conversation should have ended, he should have left that be and just focused back on the last twenty minutes of class before walking out to his next one. Leaving this be a passing moment, a barely acquaintance that he’d nodded at when you’d cross paths in the courtyard until he simply didn’t anymore. Instead though.

“I like your water bottle.”

“Hmm?”

“I like your water bottle. It’s cute.”

“Oh.” God that sweet, sweet smile, made his heart melt a bit. “Thank you, I was hoping it doesn’t come across as childish or anything.”

“Oh no it’s fun, I just have one of those plastic Gatorade ones.”

He didn’t even notice that he ended up making conversation till the lesson was over, finally realizing when he saw the guy to his left get up.

“Guess class is over, huh?”

“Oh-yeah, looks like it is.”

Miguel set his laptop back in his bag, and got up, waiting till you did the same before walking out of the lecture hall.

“Thanks again for letting me glance at your notes.”

“Of course, if you ever need help with notes, just let me know.”

“Yeah totally, I’ll try to catch you after class or something if we don’t sit next to each other next time.” Oh, he was definitely planning on sitting next to you next time. But he wasn’t going to admit that, instead he shook his head and waved his hand to play it cool.

“No, that's too much of a hassle, let me give you my number, so you can just shoot me a text.” Wait till his younger brother found out he already gave a girl his number during his third day of class.

You both took a second to exchange numbers, Miguel was about to create the contact when he realized he never got your name.

“I’m sorry , I don’t think I ever actually introduced myself. I’m Miguel.” He said as he stuck his hand out towards you.

“I’m (Y/N).” Pretty name for a pretty girl. You quickly took his hand in yours, shaking it before putting it back to your side.

“Well I hope to see you around, (Y/N).”

If only he knew his faith with the pretty girl from his statics class.

—

Taglist is closed!!

Taglist: @scaleniusrm @famouscattale @strawberryjuice9 @loser-alert @maomaimao @franceseca-the-1st @ginnysculture @mishaglass @wusyanmee @mangoslushcrush @queerponcho @bunnibitez @miguelzslvtz @migueloharastruelove @dahehow @sinners-98-world @othersideoftheparadise @toyfortoji @yeshajane @yvesbi @hanjisgf @deljojeisbackagain @safixiovi @emmalandry @maxinemus3 @lauraolar14 @aaaaslaaaan @kenz-ee @esmedelacroix @whattheshock @syler-griffin @comeonatmebruh @xwonderlandresidentx @m4dyy @mcmiracles @the-pan-liquid @lilbrababe99 @jxstanemo @badbitchhour @freehentai @sillysillygoofygoose @nj452896 @jadeloverxd @faretheeoscar @ce3stvu @scorpihoooe @blossomofbismuths @nxxav3rs3 @ilovespiderverseeee @ghost-lantern @saaaaaaaaaaaamiiiiiiiiiiiira @lavenderslemonade @rinnako @reirain @nommingonfood @miguelsfavwife @tomalymme @farrowroyale @beckberin-xo @yournextbimbogf @tinybirdhideout @reader-1290 @laysmt @migueloharasoulmate @chrishy973 @amberpanda99 @fruityfucker

[leahsgirl]

can you write something else based in the homemade love universe :)

sun kissed escapade | leah williamson x reader

in which you and leah go on holiday with your three-year-old.

might make leah with kids fanfics my whole personality because im down bad for them

-

“and what do you think you’re doing?” the blonde stood at the bottom of the stairs, her arms folded over her chest as she shook her head disapprovingly.

“leah i’m capable of carrying wren’s case.” you replied carrying your daughters peppa pig suitcase down.

“and have the possibility of you falling? no can do princess.” she grabbed the luggage off you despite the protesting and pressed a quick kiss to the corner of your lips. “are you going to let me help at all?”

“nope!” leah had without a doubt been very protective and helpful since finding out about your second pregnancy. but that also meant she didn’t let you do anything if she thought it involved the slightest bit of hard work.

“are we all set then?” you asked.

“yep, everything’s packed.” the defender scooped her daughter into her arms, making her squeal in delight. “we’re gonna have so much fun aren’t we baby?”

wren giggled and nodded enthusiastically, her tiny hands reaching out to play with leah’s hair.

after a few hours of travelling - a difficult task when trying to keep a toddler entertained, you made it to the beachfront hotel youse were staying at. Instantly revelling in the sun’s rays and the general smell of the heat abroad.

the three of you occupied yourselves with spending time at the pool, opting for just a chill first day. “bleedin’ hell they don’t make these easy do they?” leah sat on a sunbed catching her breath as she tried to blow up wren’s armbands.

“babe you’re letting all the air out.” pointing to the open cap that wasn’t covered. “oh for god’s sake.” despite the cursing and countless breaks the blonde managed to do it as you’d just finished lathering sun cream onto the little girl’s face.

“don’t go running off missus.” you tell wren before letting her waddle off to the kids pool. pulling your beach bag closer to you, you take out the book you’ve been reading and get yourself comfy on the sun lounger. “you not coming in?” leah motioning to the water as she throws off her sliders.

“i’m just gonna relax for a while, read my book.” not looking up as your eyes stayed fixed on the page in front of you. she pressed a kiss on your forehead “okay darlin’.”

not even ten minutes later and you find yourself being smothered by a dripping wet wren whose bombarded you in a hug. “oh my gosh! wrenny i’m soaked through now.”

the toddler shrugged apologetically “mama told me to do it.” your eyes darting over to the older girl who was at the edge of the pool laughing cheekily. “oh did she now?”

“oh come on it’s just a bit of a laugh, stop being boring and come join us.” leah chimed, wren joining in on the pleading.

you caved, making your way over to the steps and into the warm water. leah grabbed at your waist, dragging you closer to deep end. “see this is much better than your book.”

you rolled your eyes playfully “i’ll have you know it was getting to the good part before you decided to use our child for your scheming.”

the skipper just smirked “it worked no?” happy her plan to get you in the pool succeeded. “just this time williamson.”

she pressed you against the wall, staring directly into your orbs, a dopey grin on her face. “i love you.” the words falling effortlessly from her lips as you repeated them. her mouth attached to your neck, peppering delicate kisses up to the back of your ear, a place she knew you was sensitive. you were thankful the hotel was quiet and secluded, only a few other people around who were too wrapped up in their own worlds to notice the public display of affection.

—

“princess - wait up!” leah called out to a very excited wren who you chased after while the arsenal player was busy unloading stuff out the rental car.

the toddler made a beeline for the sand and sea, eager to splash about. “we can’t be running off like that sweetie.” you getting your breath back now caught up with the little one. “sorry mommy.”

leah now joining youse, she laid out beach towels for you all to lie down along with passing you a cold bottle of water; the two humans inside you making you thirsty like no man’s business.

you occupied yourself with building sandcastles with wren, soaking in the quality time of just the two of you - only a couple of months remaining until you’d be a family of five. the blonde watched on in admiration, sneaking a couple of cute photos that she’d be posting later on for her ‘holiday camera roll dump’.

a good hour had passed - and lord what an hour it had been. it turns out the day you decided to go to the beach was also the day they was offering surfing lessons, so of course leah had to participate, her competitive spirit just as prevalent 4,000 miles away here than it was back home. “be prepared to be blown away by your incredibly sexy, multi-talented fiancé.” the taller woman winked before running off to join the group.

you and wren watched on from a distance, the small blonde sat in between your legs with your arms wrapped loosely around her stomach. “what’s your mother got herself into now hm wrenny.”

the three year old just giggled, nuzzling herself closer to you.

now if there’s one word to describe your partner’s performance on the waves - it would be hilarious. the poor girl could not stay on the board to save her life despite the adamant determination. when she did eventually stand up on the thing she got too excited and fell straight back into the water, the taste of salt getting unbearable at this point.

she made her way back over to you, a small scowl on her face now that she received a bruise to the ego. “have fun?” you asked finding this very amusing. “stupid surfboard - it clearly had something wrong with it!”

you patted her back reassuringly “maybe just stick to football love.” managing to get a little smile out of her as you pecked her lips.

“you thought i was good didn’t you angel?” leah diverting her attention over to the toddler who avoided the question, nuzzling into you more. “well it looks like beach 1, leah williamson 0.”

the centre-back mocked offence “i’m gonna give you two 10 seconds to run before i get you.”

you matched wren’s childish squeals as you ran off hand in hand away from the blonde, it not taking it long for leah to catch up and swiftly lift her daughter into her arms tickling her all over. “oh no looks like you’ve been caught wrenny.” sticking your tongue out playfully.

“erh you’re not off the hook either.” using her freehand to rope you in closer and have your lips crash together for a bruising kiss. “don’t see how that was much of a punishment babe.” you say once breaking apart.

“just giving you a glimpse of tonight’s agenda.” smirking cockily and smacking your butt.

—

nearing the end of your relaxing getaway, the three of you chose to go on an evening walk into town to find a restaurant to eat at. your hand intertwined with leah’s as she pushed wren in her pram.

after reading countless outside menu’s, you finally agreed on a small italian, leah content at the fact there was the option of chicken nuggets. “such a child.” you teased while being escorted to your table.

before leah could counter back she was being tapped on her side, small hands pointing to a little playground area set up at the end of the restaurant “can we go play?”

leah exchanged a glance with you waiting for approval, your lips curling up in a tender smile. “sure thing sweetheart, go have some fun.”

wren wasted no time in scampering up the ladder of the slide before abruptly stopping once at the top, the five feet off the ground suddenly very daunting. "c'mon you've got it." leah encouraged noticing the uneasy facial expression on the girl's face. "can you do it with me?"

giving in, no one surviving the puppy eyes wren gave when we wanted something, leah sat at the top of the kid's apparatus and positioned wren on her lap. "here we go baby."

huge grins on the toddlers face as they slid down - until they hit a snag that is; leah's hips getting wedged either side of the slide's edges, leaving both girls in an awkward predicament.

"uh-oh." the blonde muttered, attempting to wriggle free to no avail. "i think we're stuck."

wren's eyebrows furrowing in concern as she glanced back in your direction where you sat down rubbing your bloated stomach, people watching. she manoeuvred out of leah's grip, descending down the remainder of the slide.

"mommy! mama's stuck!" she tugged at your shirt urging you to get up and follow her. "mama's what?" you asked but didn't need your daughter to reply as your eyes landed on a very grumpy looking leah.

"oh wow, what's happened here?" trying to contain your amusement but failing miserably when a laugh escaped your lips.

leah's frustration was only mounting as she struggled to free herself. "its not funny." she grumbled, shooting a glare your way. "a little help would be appreciated."

"right, sorry." you attempted to slot your hand between the slide and her thigh hoping it would loosen the grip but it was useless. "babe please hurry people are starting to stare." despite the woman's strength, it was like she was superglued in place as she tried to break free. "why does this stuff only happen to you?" racking your brain for another plan.

leah folded her arms "i don't know but I'm stopping being the fun parent that's for sure."

you rolled your eyes playfully. "i'm gonna have to ask for help." scanning around for someone to help you. "no! this is embarrassing enough." to say this was humiliating for the older woman was an understatement. "honey its the only way - i can't get you out and wren definitely can't."

huffing but ultimately having to accept, leah let you call over a waiter who noticed your struggle. and after what felt like an eternity and three staff members later, your fiancé was set free, slightly disheveled but unharmed. wren burst into a fit of giggles, finding the entire ordeal utterly amusing.

"don't you dare send that video to anyone." leah noticing how you discreetly (or so you thought) video taped her whole rescue mission. you kissed her cheek "never babe. come on lets go eat."

after a very delicious meal that the restaurant kindly offered to pay for due to the trauma leah just faced, the said girl whipped out her phone, it buzzing relentlessly for the past ten minutes.

"babe why do i have multiple texts asking about the slide incident? who did you send it to?"

innocently smiling at her you shrugged. "no one really - just your mum..and our england teammates..maybe a few arsenal girls."

leah gawped at you, stopping in her tracks "you wouldn't dare."

holding up your phone to show her the messages, her face drained in humiliation. "i do dare." the opportunity to showcase the side of leah people rarely see too good - how could you not?

"oh you are so dead."

[hp-hcs]

Can maybe request some slytherin boys with gay awakeing trope? Maybe headcanons or shorts

gay awakening headcanons — mlm! slytherin boys x male! reader

hella short cause of some ✨personal stuff✨ going on, but i just wanted to get something out 🤷‍♂️

me? blame my shitty writing skills on my current health problems? what no never

❕not proofread❕

•••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

mattheo

immediately has a mental breakdown

identity crisis anyone?

i feel like he would have that panicky gay moment where he realizes that his friend is actually his More Than Friend, ykwim?

like, you just do something innocuous like sling your arm over his shoulders while walking to class and babyboy just FREEZES

the second that happens, he immediately drops out of your life while he freaks out gets his shit together

like, homeboy just deadass vanishes

doesn’t show up to any of his classes

doesn't show up to quidditch practice (draco threatens to kill him for that, cousin or not)

meanwhile you’re just there like 🧍 “what did i do?”

because my lil darlin mattheo cannot healthily express any emotion ever, he would “solve” his problem by just like, purposefully running into you in the halls and kissing your cheek, then just full-on 🏃💨 SPRINTING 🏃💨 away without a word

theo

also has an identity crisis, he’s just better at hiding it

gotta save face, amirite?

but anyways-

you weren’t even doing anything out of the ordinary, you were just hanging out with him in his room and ended up lighting his cigarette for him

that’s it. homeboy is already whipped for ya.

like, straight up simp.

i feel like theo’s a “i’m definitely going to have a panic attack over this at two in the morning, but for now i’m just going to not think and enjoy 😌💅” kind of mentality

just flat out says it

“you know, you look really hot today.”

y/n: 😳😏………..💏💋😘

draco

have you ever had a friend that was so clearly Not Straight but they just kept denying it for years before finally coming out?

well that’s draco <3

you were at a party and agreed to join some kind of kissing game

like, spin the bottle, seven minutes in heaven, post office…

(does anybody actually still play post office?)

and obviously, you both end up having to kiss each other duh

homeboy is not doing well

but not in a “what?? i don’t know what’s going on!!” kind of way

in a “ah shit my friends were right every time they called me gay, fuck” kind of way <3

immediately start dating after the party and everyone’s like 🤨👀

blaise

i feel like blaise already knew/suspected, but just didn’t have the vocabulary to describe his sexuality, ykwim?

i’m getting pansexual vibes frfr

could not give less of a fuck

is just like “shit alright, d'you wanna make out then?”

i mean……..it’s not like you’re gonna say no

this man. tHIS MAN. he’d be such a gentleman omfg

also i’m not gonna say sugar daddy but sugar daddy

would absolutely buy you anything you even looked at. you looked at a ten thousand galleon wristwatch in a luxury store? it’ll be on your bed waiting for you by the time you get home

if anyone was homophobic or wtv, he wouldn’t beat them up per se, but he would do something unnecessarily extra, like wear a dress and makeup just to be like “wdym? we’re a straight couple, obviously”

(he would tell his friends about the homophobe though, and they wouldn’t be quite as composed and respectful as him 👊😠🩸😵😵‍💫)

enzo

this man seriously does not care

like, he’s just like “oh i’m queer? hahah that’s crazy”

this man has no qualms about asking you out in the middle of class in front of everyone

like, in the middle of potions or smth he’d just be like “y/n, wanna go get dinner sometime?”

and you’re like “…aren’t you straight?” 🧍

enzo: “who knows? not me! does saturday at eight work?”

he’s so silly goofy i just love him sm

this boy would be a hella fine kisser, i just know it

WOULD ASK YOU TO THE YULE BALL 🕺🕺

AND WOULD GET YOU GUYS MATCHING BOUTONNIÈRES 💐

regulus

“ah shit i owe the boys twenty galleons, fuck”

resigned, more than anything

he can’t even come out, either cause like, what would that even be?

“guys, i have to tell you something……i’m gay”

“yep. what do you have to tell us??”

you asked him out cause you thought he was gay

and he was just like 😳🤨🤷‍♂️🙂👍

you guys went to fortescue’s!!! 🍦🍨🍧

(he’s def a mint chocolate chip kind of guy i’m just saying)

y’all end up being like, the it couple at hogwarts i don’t make the rules

[mydarlingclaudia]

fish boy

note : divider is from @/cafekitsune. I also wrote this because I was inspired by this drawing by @sillydicejelly please go look at their art it’s very pretty! this is another summer fic because I’m not ready for summer to be over ugh. I liked writing this a lot but I did feel kinda silly towards the end

wc : 2.8k

tags : @lottiies

desc : he saves you from drowning and you come back each year, falling in love was easy. strangers to friends to lovers, fluff, I think angst (towards the end), not proofread, re2 and re4 Leon, gn!reader, au

It started back in 1997 when you were nineteen. Your family went to the beach for a week in the summer, like you do every year. Your family had a beach house there that they’d had since before you were born, you’d been going there your whole life, you’ve never noticed anything strange. Most days were the same; go into town, window shop and buy as much ice cream you could stomach, go home and swim until you couldn’t feel your arms, roast your skin, play with your cousins, eat, sleep, repeat.

But nothing stays the same forever, sometimes that was a good thing, sometimes that was a bad thing. But this change was just… odd.

One night you were just having a hard time, you and your mom had gotten into a fight earlier in the afternoon and it had just thrown off the rest of your day. You went out that night, maybe around ten after everyone had gone to bed, the wind was harsh, the water was harsher. That didn’t stop you from jumping into the water to try and let the cold water ease your mind.

It didn’t work, though. One big, unexpected wave had toppled you over in the deep water, and before you knew it, you were gulping down salt water, unable to tell up from down.

Miraculously, you didn’t die, even though you should have. You had lost consciousness, though. You didn’t know where you were when you woke up, all you could make out was a small shore, surrounded by cliffs and overgrown weeds, no one else in sight.

Except for a boy.

He was blonde, pretty, pale, too. There was something a bit odd about his face, but you brushed it off as your bleary eyes adjusting. You don’t remember what you said to him, mostly because you didn’t even know what you were saying when you said it, but he had helped you sit up and you rested against his shoulder, one of his hands awkwardly patting your back. It felt comfy, you could ignore the ache in your body and how heavy your lungs felt and just focus on his wet skin pressed against yours.

This must have been what Eric felt like when he was saved by Ariel in The Little Mermaid.

When your eyes finally did adjust, and you got a good look at him, you realized that the oddity of his face was scales that lined his cheekbones back towards his ears, and that his ears weren’t even ears, but webbed ones, like some sort of deep sea creature. You had backed away from him, a confused expression painted on your face while a slightly pained one was etched onto his.

Your eyes hadn’t been able to focus on a single part of him, flicking between his tail, his webbed hands, the gills that lined his throat, his sea-matted hair, the blue tint that surrounded his fingers and gills, everything. You had to be dead, there was no other explanation, but his voice had been so soft when he spoke to you, that you almost wanted to scoot closer again.

“Listen I-I just- you’re- I think I hit my head.” You had sputtered out, one of your hands flying up to feel against your head for any bumps.

“I checked already, you didn’t.” The fish boy had reassured you, pushing himself closer to you.

“I-I didn’t?” Your eyes were glued to him the whole time he had moved himself closer to him, you didn’t back away this time.

“You didn’t, I promise.” You flinched when he reached up to peel your hand away from your head, making him stop for a second, those pretty blue eyes of his robed over your face for another second before he pulled your hand away.

“So-so what? What happened?” He let go of your wrist, placing both his hands down on the sand, his eyes were yet to leave yours.

“You were gonna drown.”

“A-And you saved me?” He nodded, you let out a shaky breath. “So I’m not imagining this?” He shook his head this time. “Jesus, where are we?”

“By the lighthouse,”

“The lighthouse?! That’s like, what, four miles away? Goddamn.” You groaned, that explained why no one was around.

“Are you okay?”

“Yeah, I-I guess.” You watched as his eyes trailed down to your bare legs.

“… I’ve never met a human before.” He mumbled.

“I’ve never met a mermaid- merman- uhm, fish boy, I dunno.” He looked you dead in the eye again for a few seconds, then let out a giggle and shook his head, you had smiled at him.

You had to admit that this strange creature was kinda cute, you didn’t doubt that he could probably overpower you, but he had been gentle with you so far. He stopped laughing as you stood up, watching the way the muscles in your legs flexed.

“Shit, my families gonna be wondering where I am.” You had told him, putting your hands behind your head and pacing around in a small circle.

“Don’t worry, I’m going to take you back.” You stopped your pacing, looking back down at him and the dumb smile he had on his face.

“You are?”

“I mean… yeah? Why would I save you just to leave you stranded?” He chuckled, you huffed.

“Well, thank you.”

He was a strong swimmer, that shouldn’t have surprised you, he had helped you swim along when you got too tired to do it. You had told him to just leave you at a spot along the beach that was secluded because it’s right where ships would dock and that you’d just walk the rest of the way back home. Before you had left, he had eagerly told you his name, you told him yours. The two of you had lingered for a few seconds longer than necessary, him in the water, you on land.

You felt like thanking Leon again wouldn’t be a good enough way to show your gratitude for saving you, you didn’t really know how to properly thank him yet, but you had suggested meeting in the same place the next day shortly after sunrise. Leon bit, eagerly.

You were surprised when Leon showed up the next day. And the day after that, the next day, too, and every day after. He’d bring you shells and sand dollars, you’d bring him human treasures (coins, candy, ice cream, anything).

Leon would let you look at him, because the more you looked, the more intrigued you became with him, and he liked that feeling. You found more blue scales littered across his arms, he let you touch them. You liked his tail a lot, all the pretty blue and tan scales that shimmered in the sunlight paired with strong fins that were rough to the touch.

You could spend hours talking to Leon, and you did, your family would ask you where you were running off to, you’d just say it was a boy in town, it wasn’t really a lie. He’d ask you about all the places you’ve been to on land, you’d ask him about the ocean.

Leaving was hard. You had promised him you’d come visit again, maybe even on your own a few times a year. But you had promised Leon that you would be back the same time next year. You’d never forget how he frowned and nodded his head, asking you for another keepsake. You gave him a bracelet you bought in town.

—

You had the whole year to look forward to seeing Leon again. When you arrived on the beach in 1998, you were almost certain he wouldn’t show. As far as you knew, mermaids didn’t have calendars, how would he know when a year passed? On the drive up you contemplated how long a year was to them, you almost gave yourself a nosebleed thinking about it. You would just have to ask Leon.

But Leon had shown, and he showed up with a grin on his face and the best shells he had gathered over the past year.

“What do you call those?” Leon had asked you, pointing a blue finger at the overgrown wildflowers sprouting out of the hill above you and him. You looked over your shoulder, sparing a glance to the purples and yellows of the flowers that gently swayed in the wind.

“Those? Those are flowers.” You said to him, taking another cookie from the ones you had baked and brought to him, still looking at the wildflowers. You quickly learned that if given the chance, Leon would eat just about anything, especially sweets.

“They’re pretty.”

“There are prettier ones.”

“There are?” You finally look back to him, he’s only a handful of feet away from you, the cookies and other treats you brought rested on top of a stool between the two of you. Leon was laying on his stomach, forearms keeping him propped up as his eyes locked onto you, gentle waves rolling over his tail and reaching your feet, the two of you hidden away at the part of the docks no one ventured to.

“Sure, sunflowers, snapdragons, lilacs, chrysanthemums, tulips… I could go on forever.”

“… Would you bring me some?”

“Of course.”

And you did, you brought Leon as many flowers as you could carry, he was worth a pretty penny for all of these flowers. You were no expert on plants, but the night before you brought him the flowers, you took out a book at the library on them, just to know each one’s meaning so that if he asked, you’d be prepared.

Leon asked about anything he could think of, he always did. You were the same, in a way. You’d never been all that curious about the ocean until Leon came into your life.

You watched Leon with a softness in your eyes you don’t think you’ve ever even looked at a boy with when he’d twirl the flower stem between his fingers and study each individual petal, you wanted him to look at you like that.

“I wish I could take these back with me.” Leon had mumbled to you, eyes still glued to a tulip.

“Maybe you can, I don’t know how well they’ll hold up in the water, though.”

“That’s what I’m worried about,” His eyes shifted from the flower in his hand up to your face, his smile dropping a tiny bit. “These are beautiful, I don’t want to just remember them.”

You didn’t know what to say. You wanted to tell him that you couldn’t keep everything you wanted, but you knew that you were keeping Leon as close as you could and that telling him that would be hypocritical.

“I’ll buy you as many flowers as you want.” You told him before you could even finish the thought, but you meant each word. Seeing his face light back up made your heart skip a few beats in your chest.

“You will?”

“If it’ll make you happy.”

“Yeah, it would.” Leon had smiled at you, you got out of your beach chair and scooted next to him in the sand, reaching a hand out to run over his wet back before you wrapped your arms around his shoulders in a hug. Leon had gone stiff for a few seconds, your grip loosened on him, he took that opportunity to move and wrap his arms around your waist. He didn’t let you go for a long time.

—

Years came and went, your visits with Leon stayed the same. You spent most of your summer at the beach now, talking with Leon, swimming with him, eating with him, any excuse you could find to be with him, you were there.

August of 2004 is nearing its end, it’s late right now, you don’t know whether it’s before or after midnight. You’re soaked through to the bone, salt water clings to your cold skin as you lay on a beach towel. Leon is next to you, he’s never not near you when you’re at the beach.

Leon gets more and more handsome each time you see him. You’re not sure what’s going on under the surface of the water, but something has hardened him. His eyes are a bit colder, he’s gotten a bit stronger, he’s more serious about things.

You don’t think you ever really knew Leon, you liked to think you did, but he’d never be able to come into your world and you’d never be able to go into his without an oxygen tank strapped to your back. You had to settle for this.

Leon’s never mean to you, though. He still asks questions, he still brings you shells, he still loves flowers. He’s gotten more touchy, he likes your legs, you continue to like his tail.

Leon shifts beside you, rolling onto his side to face you, you do the same.

“When are you leaving?” He asks.

“I’m not sure yet.” You couldn’t stay at the beach forever, you tried to work jobs that were more lenient, but you still need to eat and have a roof to sleep under. Your family notices how you keep returning to the beach for longer periods each year, they think you’ve fallen in love. You have.

“Just be sure to say goodbye.” Leon says this each time you have to leave, you always say goodbye, you’d never just leave him without telling him you wouldn’t be back for a while. You don’t say anything as Leon sits up, reaching for a tulip from the bouquet of flowers you brought, you grab one as well.

It’s silent between the two of you, you’re picking off the petals of your flower, reciting “he loves me, he loves me not” in your head repeatedly, you haven’t done this since middle school.

“If I had legs…” Leon starts, you stop what you’re doing, pausing on a he loves me petal. “Would you take me with you?”

“Take you where?”

“Just with you. I just… I just wanna be around you for more than a few weeks.” Leon’s words both warm your heart and make it clench at the same time, you turn your attention back to your flower, picking off more petals.

“Of course I would. I’d take you anywhere you wanted.” Your eyes flick to his face, catching his smile.

“I miss you, y’know.” You stop again, he loves me not.

“I’m right here.”

“I mean when you’re gone.” Leon huffs beside you, letting his hands fall down to his lap, still holding the tulip. “I don’t like when you leave. Every single day for the past six years I’ve swam up to shore waiting for you, even when I knew you weren’t going to be there. You’re the first human I’ve ever met, I’m pretty sure you’re the kindest one out there, too. You can go anywhere you want in the world and I’d never know it. I just want to see you.”

“And I want you to come with me,” You admit with a shaky breath. “Believe me, I think about you everyday, I try and find things that I can bring to you, I try to be here more than I probably should be. If- If we were able to be around each other every waking moment, I’d spend my life with you.”

“… I don’t want to be in the sea anymore.”

“Leon, you have no idea how easy I wish it was for us.” You can feel tears pricking at your eyes, you look away from Leon, the only petal left on your tulip is he loves me.

“Would you ever move here? To the beach?”

“I’ve been thinking about it a lot.”

“Then do it.” Leon meant it as a demand, but he said it so softly it sounded like he was begging. You toss your tulip to the side and look back at him, scooting closer, letting sand stick to your skin as you leave your towel.

Leon is still blonde, he’s still pretty, he’s still pale. His skin is still wet to the touch and you’ve come to love the scales plastered onto his skin, he’s not awkward when he holds you anymore, and there’s a different ache in your lungs when you’re around him that certainly isn’t you being waterlogged.

You bring a hand up to cup his face, his webbed hand closes around your wrist, leaning into your touch.

“I love you,” He murmurs against your palm, pressing a kiss to it.

“I love you, too.” You whisper to him. Leon doesn’t pull away from you, he never does until he absolutely has to. His hand slides up to latch onto yours, he holds it against his chest and leans in until his forehead is resting against yours.

“Please, say it again.”

“I love you.” You’re the one who leans in for the kiss. The summer you first met, you had found yourself laughing at the thought of kissing him because you thought he’d taste like fish. Instead, he tastes like salt water you’ve swallowed more than enough times, you’d drown in it knowing it tastes like him.