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certaimromance · 2 months

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࣪ ִֶָ☾. Cemetery Love.

Dean Winchester x Witch!reader

Summary: Ever since you accidentally discovered that Dean had made a deal and that his days were numbered, you've been trying to make every one of them unforgettable without telling him why. According to him, you're getting crazier and crazier, and according to Sam, you're in love.

Words: 2,9k.

TW: mentions of death, dealings with demons, witches (normal warnings in the series). spoilers for season 2 and 3. angst. fluff. the winchester brothers being chaos lol. english isn't my first language (sorry for my mistakes, be kind please).

Note: I love Dean and the Grumpy x Sunshine dynamic, so taking advantage of the sad plot of the deal and mixing it all up with confusion is one of my more chaotic ideas and I hope it turns out well haha.

♡ Enjoy! ♡

You closed the bedroom door behind you, careful not to make any noise that might wake the two brothers who were still sleeping peacefully in their beds. You left the groceries on the table and began to arrange everything to make it a perfect breakfast, the coffees you had bought, the muffin for Sam and the cake for Dean, the wild flowers you had made appear in the new vase you had created with your magic to give the table more vitality, and as a final touch you snapped your fingers and the curtains opened to let in the sunlight.

While you checked that everything was perfect, you stared at them for a few seconds, and the serenity with which they slept made you wonder if all the bad things that followed them were real. So many times you wanted to believe that your mind had played tricks on you, that the first time you saw Sam die was an illusion and that being alive after that was as normal as your magic. You didn't want to believe anything else had happened until you heard Dean talking to him when they thought you couldn't hear and you knew his days were numbered and he didn't want you to know.

That day, you wanted to scream at him that he was an idiot for selling his soul like that, and worse, for not telling you to find a spell to fix it. But the desperation in his voice as he repeated to his brother that you would look at him differently if you knew, and that it scared him more than anything else in the world, silenced you for weeks as you put your secret plan into action. You wanted each day to be better than the last for him as you searched every known coven for ways to avoid his death at all costs.

“Good morning, you lazy pair. It's time to wake up.” You spoke after several minutes of being lost in thought, watching them stir in their beds.

“Shut up, please.” Was all Dean said, pulling the blanket over his head to keep out the sun streaming through the window.

“Good morning to you too. Is that coffee and muffin I smell?” Sam sat up in his bed and looked gratefully at the table. “You're the best, thanks.” He added with a smile.

The best way to start a good day was with a good breakfast, you believed, and you knew the younger Winchester agreed, and that a little cheerfulness, sponsored by a little magic, couldn't hurt in the midst of monsters and supernatural cases. However, the other brother had been in a bad mood lately, and your positivity irritated him, especially when it came in the morning. Of course, he didn't know that the cheerfulness was fake, just an attempt to make him a little happy.

“Let's go! The day is beautiful today, the sun is shining and the birds are singing, all that deserves to be seen.” You said, giving Sam a smile to authorize him to throw a pillow to his brother. “It's so nice.”

You took a sip of your coffee and heard a groan from Dean as he received the pillow his brother had thrown at him. You let out a small mocking laugh.

“You know what's nice? Sleeping and not getting hit in the face by flying pillows.” He replied, finally sitting up grimly in bed, his eyes still closed.

“Be thankful, Winchester. I brought you a nice breakfast.” You said as you sat down in one of the chairs in the small dining room in front of Sam.

Finally, he opened his eyes and scanned you and then the table. He couldn't deny that his stomach rumbled and his mouth watered at the sight of the pie you'd bought. However, nothing took away the feeling of irritability and the headache from not getting the thousand hours of sleep he needed to be well.

“How can you be so happy and look so good in the morning?” He asked after looking at you from head to toe and snorting because you were all dressed up and glowing while he was still in his pajamas.

You raised your shoulders and heard Sam teasing his brother. At that moment, your cell phone vibrated and a message from Bobby asking you to call him caught your attention. You tried not to make the slightest grimace so the brothers wouldn't notice and worry.

“You two take a shower and get something to eat. I'll take a walk and wait for you to join me later.” You got up from your chair and walked briskly to the door.

“What the hell is wrong with her?” Dean asked as soon as the door closed behind you and the creaking sound it made echoed in his head.

“Wrong? She bought us breakfast and she's happy, I don't see anything wrong.” Sam replied, frowning at his brother's attitude. “You're just in a bad mood.”

“I'm not.” Dean replied with a snort, getting out of bed and sitting down in the seat you had used earlier. “She's being weird.”

Until the last few weeks, your behavior had been very different, and the eldest Winchester had noticed it the most. In the past, you barely laughed at his bad jokes or cast spells that weren't meant to save a life on a hunt. Now you smiled so much he was surprised your face didn't hurt, and your spells of pure joy seemed endless. It was as if you had been injected with positivity and vitality.

“She's just happy, it's nice that one of us is.”

At his brother's comment, Dean snorted and began to eat his pie uncomfortably. It wasn't that it bothered him that you were happy, because that was the only thing he could wish for you, it was more a resentment that he couldn't be the same way.

“I think she's in love.” Sam said and took a sip of his coffee.

Automatically, Dean's disinterest in the conversation ended and all his senses kicked in.

“Why? By whom? Since when?”

“Suddenly she is happier, she doesn't stop texting and doesn't let go of her phone, she suddenly disappears and never says where she went, she is much more concerned about her appearance, I have seen her get up earlier to put on makeup and she has asked me a thousand times if she looks good, she rejects every boy who approaches her and she buys us rich food just for the sake of it. The other day I even heard her humming a love song. She is definitely dating someone.”

His brother's full explanation made Dean frown even more and his stomach churn, even the urge to eat was taken away. He didn't like that none of it made any sense, no matter how much it did.

“Or she just went crazy.” He said, putting aside the pie he had been devouring.

“Are you jealous?” Sam asked with some mockery in his tone.

“No. Shut up.”

“Come on, are you still in love with her?” The hunter asked with narrowed eyes, trying to decipher his brother's feelings, even if he only got bad looks from him. “Don't make faces, you told me so.”

And it was true, because months earlier, Dean had gotten drunk in a dive bar after you had almost been seriously injured on a hunt and decided to turn in early. Your absence, combined with the unlimited drinks that a fake card got him, made him finally spill his guts, even his darkest thoughts, to his brother. Most importantly, he confessed that he had been in love with you for years.

“Forget about that night, I was drunk.”

“Everyone says drunks tell the truth and I remember everything you said that night.” Sam remarked, taking a minute to mentally go back to that moment. “Oh Sammy help, I think she cast a love spell on me because I can't get her out of my mind. I don't know what to do anymore.” He put on a high-pitched voice to imitate him and remind him exactly of his words.

“I never said that.”

Sam raised an eyebrow at his denial.

“Well, maybe I did say some things.” He finally admitted with some embarrassment. “But it was stupid.”

“Having feelings for someone isn't stupid, Dean. It's normal, and it was bound to happen to you sooner or later.”

He sighed and could feel the tension in his body rise. “Stop.”

“You can talk to me and...” Sam insisted again, trying to give him some understanding and reassurance, unaware that he was doing just the opposite.

It was definitely too much and made the eldest Winchester feel like a foolish, lovesick teenager chasing an unrequited love thanks to his brother's words. The whole situation infuriated him to no end, it seemed stupid and out of place when he was literally closer to death every day.

“I'm. Not. In. Love. With. Her.” He said slowly, punctuating his voice with every word. He had already lost his patience and only wished that Sam would leave him alone. “How could I fall in love with someone like that? Lately she's been so irritating and stressful. I don't need her songs, or her perfect smile, or her to buy us that damn dream breakfast. We're hunters, and we don't need a witch.”

As soon as he finished speaking and looked at his brother, he heard the door to the room slam shut, throwing an excessive amount of wind at them, almost knocking him out of his seat. It was then that he knew he was completely screwed.

“That was...?” He tried to ask with his voice somewhat shaky.

Dean didn't really need an answer, he knew you had heard him.

“You're an asshole.” That was all Sam said before he got up and walked to the door with the intention of talking to you.

“I'll go.” He said, grabbing his brother's arm and stopping him before he could leave. “I messed up...now pray I don't turn into a frog.”

“It's what you deserve.” Was the last thing Dean heard from his younger brother before he left the room and went to find you.

The sunlight and the sound of birds singing was the first thing he noticed when he left the room, it almost made him smile knowing that you had been right. It didn't take him long to guess that you were in the woods behind the motel, it was the kind of place you always said you found relaxing and probably where you would go when you wanted to get away. He walked quickly and after a few minutes he found you sitting on a rock, staring blankly.

“Get out of here, Winchester.” You said as soon as you felt his presence and heard the distinctive sound of his footsteps, without even turning to look at him. “Or I'll turn you into a rabbit.”

Dean almost smiled, he knew you liked rabbits.

“You have to listen to me, I'm sorry. I didn't mean...that. I didn't mean what I said.” He tried to explain in a confused way, unable to fully express himself. “It was a mistake.”

“What was a mistake, what you said or that I heard you say it?” You replied with irony in your tone, still not turning to look at him because you knew it would hurt.

“It was all a mistake, I shouldn't have said any of that because I don't believe it.” He replied, taking a few slow steps towards you to touch your shoulder. “Maybe I think you're acting weird, but I...”

“You what, Winchester?” You turned and walked away from his touch swiftly. There was something burning inside you from what you had heard and it was releasing everything you had been holding back. “You're going to tell me you don't need a witch because you're a hunter? Well, let me tell you yes because I'm the only one doing anything to save you from the damn deal you made!”

Finally, you stood up from the rock and looked him straight in the eye. You could see him turn pale and frozen at your words.

“How...how do you know?”

“I heard you talking to Sam.”

Once again, a conversation you weren't supposed to overhear had ruined everything for him.

“What have you done?” His tone was serious, there was not a hint of playfulness left, only concern.

Your lips were fully sealed for several seconds before you spoke. “It doesn't matter anymore.”

All the events of the last while began to flash through Dean's mind with speed and began to make a different kind of sense. Every argument his younger brother had given him about you being in love with someone and doing everything for that person made sense, only that someone was him.

“Tell me what you've done.” He repeated coming dangerously close to you. “I'm serious. I know you did something.”

It was so obvious that you couldn't stand by and do nothing to save him. So why didn't he ask for your help in the first place?

“That's why you bought me so much pie, you know I'm going to die. And the calls you make so much...what did you do?” He began to recapitulate all your strange attitudes in his mind and it bothered him that he hadn't noticed it before. “Tell me you haven't done anything stupid, please.”

“Doing so much for you when you don't appreciate it or care is the only stupid thing I've ever done in my life.” You tried to walk past him and leave, but he stopped you.

“You're going to tell me what you did and you're going to forget it.” He said firmly, never letting go of you for fear that you would leave. It was stupid, because he knew you could leave with a single spell if you wanted to. “Speak.”

You looked into his eyes for a few seconds and knew he meant it. He seemed more concerned about your actions than his own situation, and that confused you. You had heard him say how annoying you were and that he didn't need you, but your heart still pounded at his touch. You knew that if you confessed to him that you had been looking for ways to save him for months without caring about the consequences, you would look desperate and vulnerable, you didn't like it, but it was the truth.

“You don't want to talk? Fine, I accept that, but then you're going to stop whatever it is you're doing.” He said after waiting several minutes for you to speak and getting no response.

“But...”

“No buts, I'm serious. I don't want you to do anything, I didn't even want you to know about this before.” Dean sighed tiredly, as if he didn't know what to do. “And again, I'm so sorry for what you heard, it's not the truth and I only said it because Sam was bothering me. I do need you and know it, but not in this.”

“Why? It's my decision.”

“Listen to me for once in your life.” He moved closer until you could almost feel his breath and put a hand on your cheek. “I can lose myself, but I can't lose you, and you have to understand that or I'll go crazy.”

You froze in place, not knowing what to do or say.

“Please forget about it and go back to being yourself.” He finished.

“How am I supposed to do that? What am I supposed to do without you?” You asked, feeling your voice crack as you spoke. “I don't want to say goodbye.”

Dean didn't say anything, he just hugged you tightly, hoping that for once in your life you wouldn't fight. To his surprise, you clung to him and your fear of him disappearing became apparent. You lost count of how many times you heard him whispering to you to let it go, to focus on the present, and that he was with you now, kissing your forehead and repeating that everything was okay.

“Will you turn me into a rabbit if I kiss you now? Be honest.” He asked as soon as he was able to pull away from you a little to look into your eyes.

“Honestly? No. Would I like to? Yes.”

One of his hands rested on your waist and the other tangled in your hair, pulling you closer to him and finally shortening the small distance that separated you. You saw him smile for a few seconds before he placed his lips on yours, letting you know that you had indeed lost your mind. His movements were soft and slow, something you had never imagined from him before, and it surprised you for the better. He seemed to be making an effort to be gentle and that, combined with the sweet taste the pie had left on his lips, had you hypnotized.

Time flew, and almost as if under a spell, you broke the kiss only when your human need for oxygen appeared. You could only guess that it had been a while because his lips were red and he seemed as agitated as you were. All you knew was that you had waited a long time for this and that the possibility of losing him was a thousand times more terrifying now.

“Part of me has been grateful all along to know that I will die before you.” He spoke, and you looked at him as if he were completely insane, because he probably was. “Really, don't look at me like that.”

“Sure, you always want to win and go first.” You rolled your eyes, tried to fake a laugh, and hugged him tighter.

“No, I just can't imagine life without you, my sweet witch.”

#dean winchester x reader #dean winchester #dean winchester x female!reader #dean winchester x you #supernatural x reader #supernatural fanfiction #supernatural #sam winchester

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thevoidstaredback · 4 months

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"Guys!" Nightwing shouted once he and Batman arrived in the main are of the Bat Cave, "I have some fantastic news!"

Bruce pulled his cowl off, his amusement no longer being hidden as he nearly failed to keep from laughing.

Everyone had gathered in the Cave to await the two who'd gone to the Watchtower, so everyone was already there to hear the exclamation. Even Alfred was with them all.

"Calm down, Big Bird," Jason said from his place on the meeting table, "What's going on?"

Dick was bouncing on the balls of his feet, "Can I tell 'em, B? Can I, can I?!"

Bruce chuckled, "I'm not stopping you."

He cheered before turning back to the rest of his family, "They think there's a total of three-" he held up three fingers on his left hand, "-of us operating within Gotham, myself excluded because I'm in Bludhaven."

"Wait," Stephanie called, "They think Batman only has three people helping to cover Gotham? They know we're human, right?"

Dick shook his head, his grin only getting bigger. "Nope! They think Batman only has two sidekicks covering Gotham with him."

This caused everyone to laugh, the humor breaking any seriousness anyone would've tried to control to keep on topic. It was nice, Bruce smiled, to be able to let loose with everyone like this. His family was altogether, spending time with one another, doing things that didn't include head hunts or injuries.

Alfred took his place beside Bruce. "This is nice, isn't it."

"It is."

"You can die a happy man now?"

A chuckle. "You killing me off so soon?"

"Of course not, Master Bruce," He's smirking, "I'm simply stating a fact."

"Ha!"

"What're you guys talking about over there?" Tim called. Everyone had gathered at the meeting table to go over final details and slight changes for the set up tomorrow. "C'mon! We've gotta finish putting this all together."

Duke nodded from over his shoulder, "Yeah! New information allows room for some much more fun!"

Jason smirked. "Yeah, old man, Alfred! We want to see if we can get away with switching out with each other. It'll confuse the hell outta the Leaguers."

Bruce raised an eyebrow as he and Alfred joined the kids at the table. "How are you going to pull that off? Despite what you all may thing, the others are all a lot more observant than given credit for-"

"Except the Flash and Green Arrow." Cass cut in.

"Hey!" Dick said, "Don't dis Barry like that!"

"Yeah," Barbra agreed, "And Ollie's whole thing is spotting details. He prides himself on it!"

"If that were true, then we wouldn't be planning on how to mess with them, now would we?"

Tim nodded, "Damian's right."

"As you were saying?" Bruce prompted.

"Well," Jason continued, "You, Damian, and Dick have to be here as Batman, Nightwing, and Robin. They all probably know about me, so I'll stay out of the Cave, but you can bet your ass that I'll be in the Clocktower with Babs, listening in on everything." He looked to Tim and Babs. "Should we set up cameras?"

Tim thought for a second, "If we want to record this, then yeah. I can have them all set up by morning."

"I'll help you set it up before I head out tonight," Barbra agreed.

"Anyway," Stephanie interrupted, pulling the attention to herself, "Tim, Cass, and I could totally get away with running around and messing with their senses and shit. And if we can get Kate and Selina in on this-"

"You've already talked to them, haven't you." Bruce asked. The matching grins on everyone's faces was answer enough. He sighed.

"Having fun," Cass patted his arm, "Bonding."

He snorted. 'Bonding', yeah right. Maybe letting his coworkers be the target of his childrens' whims is a bad idea. Then again, their not hurting anyone. It's all fun in games.

Bruce sat at the head of the table. "Alright. We all know about Superman's ability to hear heartbeats and breathing patterns. He's able to memorize someone's vitals, especially his friends. It's safe to assume he's got mine down, as well as Robin's and Nightwing's."

Damian scoffed. "Changing my vitals will be no issue for me."

Bruce nodded, "Me, either."

Dick nodded along, "Soundseasy enough. But what's the plan?"

"Oracle will call you out for an emergency in Bludhaven. Red Hood will call me out for some information at the docks. We'll met up at the Clocktower and switch costumes." he explained.

Barbra had a manic look on her face. "We should have Steph and Cass stay away from the Cave at first, then have them come in separately, but sharing a costume." SHe turned her attention to the blonde. "You have a spare Spoiler costume, yeah?"

Stephanie matched her grin, "Naturally."

"What about me, Tim, and Damian?" Duke asked.

"How would you and Tim like to be actual bats?" the red head wondered, "Or maybe ghosts?"

"Do we get to mess with shit?" Tim asked.

"Naturally."

"I'm in," the two responded.

"Damian will run distraction," Jason said," He'll be the only one who stays with the JL the whole time they're here. Alfred will have to keep cover upstairs. I'll bounce between the Manor, the Clocktower, and patrol."

"Are you quite sure?" Alfred asked, "That's quite a lot to be doing."

"Yeah, I'll be fine," he assured.

Brice cleared his throat. "If everyone's ready?" Looks around the table before nods of affirmation. "Good. Finish up any last minute changes and preparations. They've agreed to meet at the Watchtower at fifteen hundred New Jersey time so that I can bring them here. Damian, I want you to come with me."

"Of course, father."

"Ready? Break."

Part 3 Part 5

Tag List: @sebas-nights

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queers-gambit · 11 months

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And Let Me Love You Anyway

[ part two of two ]

prompt: you embark on a secret but passionate affair with the Rogue Prince, and when his wife, Rhea Royce, passes away, he chooses you to wed next - a decision that angers his niece and changes history.

pairing: Daemon Targaryen x female!reader only description given: red hair and Daemon's able to lift you

fandom masterlist: House of the Dragon

word count: 6.3k+

note: what the fuck is this, Cherry? also two parts 'cause author gets carried away!

warnings: show spoilers, cursing, author has small bouts of feministic ideas, author also really likes the "little birds" storyline (let her live!), wonky brain is wonky, i think hurt and comfort, angst, very mild NSFW (female receiving oral), technically alternative timeline 'cause this goofy-ass author has an overactive imagination, #icanmakehimworse, another reader-episode-insert (this warning is for the fucking losers in my inbox).

part one: "Tell Me Every Terrible Thing you ever did, And let me love you anyway," - Edgar Allan Poe

"Alicent, we're late," you sighed with a frown, wiping your sweaty palms nervously as your necklace was latched in place and perfume spritzed on your pulse points. YES - that included your ankles.

"That's the point, sister, we're supposed to be late. It sends a message."

Your eyes rolled, snipping, "The King will not be pleased. I am not his wife, he can get angry at me, you know!"

"He'll manage," she snapped, glancing at Talya. She continued, "He dismissed Father for telling him a truth he would rather ignore. So much so, after years of service, he'd - "

"Yes, yes, the King removed Father as Hand, sent him back home," you nodded with understanding. "But we both know how he feels about his daughter, The Princess! The rumors circulating would cost him his life in the end, we are lucky he was only sent home!"

"Rumors! Rumors, sister, truly!? Tell me, do you think Father lied?"

"I know he didn't."

"Exactly why we're late to tonight's affair," she huffed, fixing her hair in the mirror again. "It's a statement, it's deliberate. We will stand out, prove we are not happy with the turn of events. Why offer Rhaenyra blind respect when she continues to do as she pleases - regardless of consequences."

You paused, sensing her anger brewing and trying to distract, "You know, Ser Lyonel Strong is not a bad replacement for Father."

"This is not about Ser Strong."

"Isn't it? Father's served long and faithfully, but perhaps it is time for a new guidance. Lyonel Strong is a smart man - qualified, even!"

"Yes," she agreed, turning to face you in a shimmering emerald gown. "But this is still an injustice to our family that I fear I cannot overlook any longer. It's been weeks..."

"Yes," you allotted, nodding with a sigh. "All right, yes, you are right, sweet sister. This is all just - it's a lot to take in, to try and digest. And we talk of playing a game with the Throne - I do not think we've the strength to endure alone."

"This is not about Lyonel Strong, sister! It's about Father and the disrespect the Crown continues to offer. Remember that," she advised softly.

You nodded, "I know, sister."

She frowned, "And remember... They aren't our kin. Despite previous displays of kindness, the Targaryens have made it clear that we are not family to them. They are not blood to us, sister; they will protect their own, not us. If we wish to survive, we will need to ally ourselves."

"I understand," you told your younger sister. "I am not arguing, I know what our reality is now - I merely implore to explore the routes that won't label us as traitors."

"I know, we have much to discuss going forward. But none of that for now," she took a long breath, smiling as she looked you up and down, complimenting, "you look stunning. Truly, you might outshine the bride tonight."

"Let's hope it doesn't come down to that, and that The Princess has a mature bone in her body - though I do not hold out hope." You smiled at her, "But enough about me, you look - you look like a Queen, sister-dearest. Gods, you're gorgeous, you look just like Mummy." The two of you shared an emotional, watery smile; embracing tightly as reality settled in your guts: it was you two Hightower Ladies against the whole of the Targaryen clan. "Come," you decided, taking a deep breath, "are we ready to go? Any later and I fear we might not get any cake."

"Oh, you and cake," she smirked, looking you over in a matching emerald, lighter-weight gown that had layers of thin fabrics clinging and dripping from your form. Golden jewelry was clasped around both your necks, wrists, tight around your fingers, and plugged into your ear piercings.

The Queen took your arm and left the dressing chambers you took refuge in, coming to a gasping halt when you were greeted by a well-groomed man in green velvet. "Father," Alicent exclaimed in shock.

"My daughters," he smiled, offering both arms, "I do believe we are now fashionably late. Hmm?"

"Exactly as we intended," you mused, taking his arm. "How is this possible? How are you here?"

"I was invited, if you believe that," Otto answered, the three of you walking slowly. "Though, I suspect your sister had something to do with that?"

"I only told Viserys I'd be deeply offended if you were ignored for this event," Alicent quipped.

"None the less, I am happy to escort my daughters to such a historic event," he spoke diplomatically, aware of the guards and servants milling around. Otto lead the way to the Throne Room - where you could hear King Viserys' echoing speech from the foyer.

None of you spoke, approaching the open doors and pausing to let everyone see the united Hightowers. Alicent wore her dark auburn locks pulled back from her face to cascade in thick ringlets down her back, your own Hightower-red hair left down around your face with the longer locks pinned off your neck. The entire room - the entire court - all wedding attendees and royal procession stared at you three in shock for entering during the King's speech. Your statement was clearly made.

Even from this distance, you could see how startled Rhaenyra was by your arrival, needing to fight off a smirk of amusement in order to keep your neutral façade.

You and Alicent walked arm-in-arm with your father, the once-Hand, down the stairs and up the aisle of banquet tables full of people, staring forward and giving no emotion away. The people buzzed in quiet gossip. The attending Hightowers of Oldtown, sitting closest to the royal banquet table because of their relation to the current Queen, stood first; everyone else following in a show of respect.

You and Alicent paused to let Otto sit with his relatives at the lower banquet table before joining arm-and-arm together. Over the muttering of the entire room, you whispered almost mutely, "Be kind, remain composed, we'll kill 'em with kindness."

Alicent gave a subtle flex to give indication she understood.

When you looked up at the table you approached under the King's heavy glare, you noticed there was an empty chair between Ser Strong and... Prince Daemon? Was that really him? When did he get here? Why was he back? It's only been a few weeks!

Your shock did not slow you, and as you approached the table reserved for the Royal Family, you saw Daemon smirking at your theatrics. Alicent did not let you part from her side as she greeted Princess Rhaenyra with a sickly-sweet voice, "Congratulations, stepdaughter. What a blessing this is for you."

She ignored any other reaction to let go of your arm, kiss her husband's cheek in greeting, stand beside him, in front of her chair, and stare forward with zero other emotion.

"Congratulations, Princess," you whispered, bowing your head. "Your Grace," you acknowledged, doing the same and taking the empty chair between Lord Hand and Rogue Prince only to stoically stare forward in silence. You did as Alicent did, not looking at any other, and just waiting for a pregnant moment that seemingly never ended.

"Please be seated," Viserys finally permitted, everyone sitting at his behest. He cleared his throat, whispering to Lyonel Strong, "Where was I?"

"The joining of the two Houses, Your Grace."

You swallowed when a warm hand laid on your right thigh, Viserys continuing his speech. You glanced at Daemon, seeing his smirk, and instead of throwing his hand off you, you laid your own over his to give a long squeeze. You had wrestled with the idea of his favorite whore, Mysaria, and the idea of whatever he did with Princess Rhaenyra for weeks. Then when you heard word that his wife, Lady Rhea Royce, had met her untimely end, you knew he was involved, yet said nothing. You could only think deeply about what it all meant - and how you fit into the equation that was Prince Daemon Targaryen.

Tell me every terrible thing you ever did...

All you could understand was the overwhelming affection you held for him. His shocked-wide-eyes found yours for a long moment, seeming communicating telepathically - you telling him you wanted him. His hand tightened to keep hold of yours, hidden from the public for the time being.

And let me love you anyway...

You tuned back into the King's speech in time to clap with the others, showing your support of the union you technically helped influence between Targaryen and Velaryon.

However, you caught the way Alicent glared at Rhaenyra, sighing to yourself; having heard through long private dinners what Alicent came to know and why this upset her so much. How strange to learn Ser Criston Cole admitted to Ali that he was coerced into soiling the Princess' purity - not her Uncle Daemon, like rumored. Yet none the less, the girl had sworn on her beloved, dearly departed mother to Alicent that she was still a maiden... A huge, glaring lie - that both you and Ali took personally.

You found all of this terribly interesting, yet did not let the distain show so boldly. After Daemon came to you in confession, you had yet to speak a word outside of public politeness to the Princess; feeling betrayed by what your lover had told you. He had been right: you were Rhaenyra's friend, she wasn't yours. So, you demoted yourself to create distance.

When the drums rumbled and the Princess took to the dance floor with her intended, you spared Daemon a look and muttered, "You do not have to look so annoyed."

"I'm not, sweet one."

"Nor so amused," you tacked on.

Daemon smirked at you, leaning in and pondering, "I am only wondering if you would care for a dance later, my Lady?"

You lied, speaking in a teasing tone, "I'm not one for dancing, my Prince."

"A single dance with me, then. Just one, pretty lady."

"You're pushy," you whispered, nudging him to keep quiet; but the grin on your lips assured him you were completely enraptured by his antics.

He sat back with a smirk, watching his niece and her fiancé dance. The entire courtroom clapped at the end, others flooding to the spaces around them. You glanced over as your sister stood from her seat, meeting your eyes and offering only a soft smile before descending from the table to approach your aunt and uncle from Oldtown - standing with your father on the side of the room. You sighed under your breath, your lover tightening his grip on your thigh.

Daemon made for a great distraction. "Did you hear the news?" He asked softly, reaching for his goblet of wine with his free hand.

"Which news would that be, my Prince?" You asked casually, pretending your heart wasn't hammering in your chest.

"Of my dear wife's passing."

"I did, actually," you fought off your smirk. "I am truly sorry to hear of it, I understand Lady Rhea was truly one of a kind. You shouldn't speak ill of the dead, love," you reminded in a whisper.

"Hmm. Don't be sorry, I'm not," he eased.

"You're not? Your wife died, Daemon..."

"I know," he met your gaze, "I'm not sorry because now it gives me vocation to follow my own desires."

You smirked, "Which desire will you follow first?"

His hand tightened to a bruising grip. He was not able to answer yet because your gaze was caught by movement, Rhea Royce's cousin approaching slowly, evidently a cup or two deep in the wine; making you remove Daemon's hand so you both could sit casually - without touching.

The man gruffly leered at Daemon, "In the Vale, men are made to answer for their crimes." Your lover spared you an exasperated look as he tacked on, "Even Targaryens."

"Who are you?" Daemon asked dully.

"This is Ser Gerold Royce, my Prince," you told him softly, "of Runestone."

Daemon perked his brow, asking sarcastically, "An excellent show of your knowledge, my sweet lady, but what does that matter to me?"

You didn't answer, Ser Lyoel Strong (who was listening in) didn't answer, because Ser Gerold was approaching the table by climbing the stairs. He growled at Daemon, "I am cousin to your late Lady wife."

"Ah, yes... Terrible thing," Daemon offered. "I'm positively bereft. Such a tragic accident."

"You know better than anyone, it was no accident."

Through a smirk, Daemon quipped, "Are you confessing some guilt, Ger Gerold?"

"I am making an accusation."

You shared a look with Lyonel to your left, catching sight of the King's turned head - showing he was listening, too. Daemon easily deflected, "Here, in King's Landing, men are made to answer for their slanders. Even old bronze cunts like you." This angered Ser Gerold visibly, the man stepping closer, but obviously restrained himself. Your lover continued, "The truth is I'm glad you've come. I wish to speak to you about my inheritance."

"What inheritance?" Ser Gerold demanded.

"Lady Rhea and I had no heirs. As her husband, whatever she was due now passes to me. She stood to inherit all of Runestone. Did she not?" Daemon had Ser Gerold pinned by legality, the man looking disturbed by his own realization. So, naturally, Daemon taunted, "After my niece's wedding, I plan to fly to the Eyrie and petition Lady Jeyne myself. Perhaps I'll see you there, Ser Gerold."

The man sheepishly walked away, his inebriated mind whirling with possibilities. You glared, pinching Daemon's arm so you could scold him when he turned to face you, "That wasn't very kind."

"And?"

"You don't truly care for Runestone," you snapped. "Now that man will fear for his home, fret over the laws, and that's not very nice."

He sighed, "What would you have me do, sweet one?"

"Leave House Royce to grieve and rearrange their succession without your pettiness."

Daemon smirked, "Whatever my Lady wants."

"You're dreadfully annoying tonight, do you know that?" You whined. "I'm going for a dance, and no, this is not an invitation to follow," you warned him - albeit playfully - before standing to excuse yourself.

"Sister," Alicent paused you before you could pass her by. "Are you well?"

"Yes, yes, just felt like dancing, too much energy to just sit. Come join - "

"No, no, I should sit. Eat," she smiled. "Perhaps tonight will be when you meet your match and we can plan another wedding."

"Perhaps," you mused, squeezing her hand. "You all right? What did Father and Uncle say?"

"Later," she whispered. "Go on, go."

You joined the stream of people dancing, instantly grinning when you were welcomed joyfully by different suitors. The band played a lively beat, the crowd cheering in rhythm; you being twirled around men and women with matching grins.

You heard your name being cheered through a small giggle.

"Hi, Princess," you greeted Rhaenyra as you both marched along to the beat. You reminded yourself this was all a game and if you wanted to survive, you'd have to play your part strategically. So, you quipped as you danced with Ser Arryn Blackwell, "Nice party you've got, huh?"

"Oh, you know how we Targaryens do," she teased. "Where've you been lately? I feel as if I've hardly seen you."

"Just busy with chores since Father was replaced as Hand," you answered, spinning under someone's arm.

Nyra didn't comment on that, instead, waiting a few moments before complimenting, "That's a beautiful dress, really goes with your hair!"

"That's what I hoped for," you gasped girlishly, deciding to play nice when she reached for your hands. You felt weak for a moment, but the truth was, you missed your friend... So, you might've giggled a bit when you joined hands, dancing together instead of with anyone else. With kindness, you offered, "You look gorgeous, as well, Princess, I love this dress - "

"Yes, yes, we all look fantastic," Daemon interrupted abruptly, crowding over you, asking quickly, "can I speak to you a moment, my Lady? The Princess won't mind, right, Rhaenyra?"

"Uh, no, I guess..." She eyed the two of you with suspicion as she stayed in-beat with the music.

"Daemon, not now - "

"We need to talk," he pulled you from where you danced, glancing back at the head banquet table as he took your hand, and lead you deeper into the crowd. He turned you to face him, pacing a small circle around you, demanding, "Do you still want to marry me?"

"What? Why are you asking now?"

"Because I just asked your father for permission," he seethed, pausing in front of you, "and he outright refused, saying he's negotiating with the fucking Lannisters. I need to know what you want."

"I was not aware what I wanted mattered to you, the man who views marriage as a political arrangement," you eyed him with a curled lip of annoyance.

"What arrangement could I want? Your sister is Queen, my family is bound to the Hightowers already. My political marriage is recently dissolved, I am free to do as I please, regardless of what others want or say - "

"Then tell me what you want. Tell me plainly what you want from me, Daemon, no more pretty words and veiled truths. Be plain."

"You said I had a year, and look - it's been weeks. Weeks, my love, how much more plain can I be? I'm here, now, free to marry, and I need to know if you still want to marry me. I'll marry you tomorrow - "

"Oh, please! Would you steal me away?" You mocked with a chuckle. "Take me to Dragonstone? Make me your little wife that you'll come to resent, too? Just as you did Rhea?"

He reached out to aggressively hold your cheek and jaw. "I had no choice in my first marriage, I could never come to resent you - you're all I've ever wanted. I'd do anything for you," Daemon snarled over your lips, "including risking your father's wrath. I'd do anything to make sure we end up together, you are my heart - do not forget that."

"Then pull out your sword, cut them all down," you purred, feeling his hand tighten, "and claim me as your own - do not let anyone stop us."

His lips hovered over yours, breathing the same air, and before he could respond or kiss you, a woman screamed shrilly from behind you. Daemon instantly latched onto your body as a crowd formed to your left and right, and when you both looked, you were shocked to see the commotion happening at your feet.

"Love - "

"Daemon," you paused him, shocked as Ser Criston Cole was engaged in a fist fight with some Velaryon knight before Ser Laenor Velaryon, the groom, was tackling him to the side. What an interesting display of protectiveness from Ser Laenor over his knight.

Daemon rushed in your ear, "Do not look - come away with me."

"Wait," you held his hands to your waist, letting him crowd into your back as Cole had punched Laenor to the side and straddled the blonde on the floor once more.

He landed one blow before the knight was brandishing a dagger; but the White Cloak caught his arm and easily snapped it broken, startling the crowd. Beyond your ring of spectators, other men were trading blows and engaged in their own fights; total chaos taking over the whole of the Throne Room. You flinched back into Daemon's embrace when Cole screamed like a wild man in the mountains, repeatedly pounding his fist into the knight's face; literally caving it in, creating a human minced meat pie.

Someone better contact Mrs. Lovett!

"No more," Daemon decided, Cole rearing himself back as Daemon stooped to heave you over his shoulder. He was able to find safe (enough) passage through the people, approaching the royal banquet table. "Hey, hey," he whispered, setting you down and taking your face in his hands, the wailing of Laenor Velaryon seeing his murdered knight echoing in the Throne Room. "You all right? You hurt? Look at me, love, are you hurt?"

"No, no, I'm okay," you whispered, swallowing unsurely; reaching up to hold his wrists. "I'm okay."

"Sure? You shouldn't have seen that - "

"It's all right," you assured, stroking his wrists. "I'm okay, Daemon, truly. Just... A little startled, maybe?"

"What's this then?" Harwin Strong smirked, panting lightly from his rescue mission as the Princess was attending her father, the King. "You two hit it off then, yeah? Is it me or are sparks flying?"

"Something like that," you whispered, trying to regulate your breathing after the adrenaline-inducing scrimmage.

"Easy does it, love," Daemon whispered, keeping you close as you didn't let go of his hands; wanting to stay connected. He told Harwin, giving a half-shrug, "They aren't sparks. She's everything to me."

"Perhaps your second wedding will go better than this one," Harwin sighed, hands on his hips.

"In some cultures, deaths at a wedding are considered good luck," you muttered, Daemon snorting lightly in amusement before running his thumbs over your cheekbones in soothing gestures.

"Didn't your wife just pass, Prince Daemon?" Your father demanded publicly with a heavy glare. "You'd offer insult to her memory by remarrying so quickly?"

"I've grieved Lady Rhea plenty, Ser Hightower, it's time to look to the future," Daemon declared, eyes daring your father to challenge him. "The Lady Hightower and I will wed. The sooner, the better, in truth."

And history would never be the same.

"What?" Rhaenyra demanded, whirling around at the news, making all others pause in confusion. "What did you say?"

"That I intend to marry the Lady Hightower."

"Her? Her? Fucking her - who is more prude than woman?!"

Well, that was mildly offensive...

"Rhaenyra - "

"What makes you think you're worthy?" She demanded of you, turning from her father to stalk across the platform. "Worthy of a man like Daemon, of a husband like Daemon? You've done nothing to - to deserve such a title! The title of Princess, of wife!"

You were honestly confused to your core.

"I deserve a man like he - not someone like you!" She continued, shocking the group as the Kingsguard cleared the Room of any lingering stragglers to keep this as private as possible. "You think I didn't see you on my tour? You were fawned over, all wanted to talk with you, but were forced to line up for me! You rejected them all on your own, and now I see why! You wanted to wait until the Lady Rhea passed, which makes me wonder - what part did you play in that?"

"Rhaenyra!" You gasped.

"What? Honestly, it would make sense - the day Daemon's banished, you weren't seen! I wouldn't be shocked if you were seen somewhere lurking in the Vale! You cannot have it all - you've always wanted my life, and now look! You have to have what I have, and now you've taken a liking to my uncle after our scandal! What? He wasn't interesting before? You heard rumors about us and decided you wanted him for yourself? Just because he was mine first? You just want to be me, you always have - you've always reeked of jealousy! This is all you wanted, to steal my family, and - "

"That's enough," Daemon tried. "You are out of turn here, Rhaenyra, do not make this worse."

"Why? Because little Lady Hightower's façade of being a respectable, pure woman is now tarnished?"

"We share one dance, albeit intimate, sit next to each other at a single dinner, shared some conversation, and you now think it's appropriate to call my virtue into question? What of your own, Princess? You just admitted to scandal with Daemon - but I wonder why the service of Moon Tea if your virtue was unimpeachable?" You demanded, feeling defensive on a new level. Even Alicent straightened up at your words.

However, Daemon rushed to add, "With all due respect, Princess, I don't want you, and you can't claim me as your own when you never had me. You might be angry, but it is no use to take it out on my intended, she is of rare stock and breed - she will not be questioned. Nor will my intentions with her."

Rhaenyra snarled, "Yeah? You don't want me? Well, you wanted me enough to try and fuck me at that whorehouse!"

There were gasps and murmurs all around, but Rhaenyra was glaring at you and Daemon, still standing together. His arms actually dropped to hold your waist, keeping you close as he snarled at his niece, "But I didn't. If memory serves right, I walked away!"

"You wanted me!" Rhaenyra raged. "You always were and always will be mine - regardless of the whores you bed in the meantime! And I want you, I am not yet married - "

"Yet I will not be who marries you, I am betrothed to another," Daemon reminded with a venomous tone. "There's nothing you offer that I want, Rhaenyra."

"I am not some inexperienced little girl anymore, I'm a woman grown, and I could do more for you than she ever could!"

"Rhaenyra!" Viserys roared.

Everyone knew she had gone too far and there was no coming back from any this. After a beat, Alicent stepped in as if questioning for the first time, "And yet, sister, you said the Princess was served Moon Tea? If Prince Daemon did not touch the Princess, does this mean she still," she scoffed as if the idea were absurd, "sullied her maidenhood? Before marriage?"

It should be noted that Ser Criston Cole was already gone from the hall at this time. In fact, he lingered just outside a side door, listening, in case his name came up. When Alicent spoke, he straightened up and started the slow trek to the Godswood.

"Ser Lyonel? Do I misunderstand?" Alicent pulled the Hand into the fray.

"Well, that's what that would sound like, Your Grace," he agreed begrudgingly. "Moon Tea is beneficial to prevent unwanted consequences outside of marriage."

"From what I understand, she was served by Grand Maester Mellos himself," you told Ali, minds strung together by a common thread. "The castle likes to gossip, you can learn a lot if you just listen."

"This is..." Viserys seethed, "Unacceptable."

"I'm sorry, Your Grace," you instantly apologized.

"No, no," he deflected, hand held up, "you have a duty to the Realm to flesh out any deception. And this," he directed his glare at his daughter, "is a grand deception that cannot be undone, unknown, covered-up, anymore, Rhaenyra!"

There was a meltdown. Everyone began yelling.

Viserys was enraged. Rhaenyra was desperately trying to plead with her father. Lord Corlys was demanding to know what the hell was about to happen with the impending marriage to "the future Queen". Ser Strong was trying to keep the people from each other's throats.

His sons stood to the side and just let them all fight.

Daemon kept you out of the line of fire, away from the action; sighing as you deflated into his chest. Over it all, Viserys' voice was angriest, and you heard, "You are no daughter of mine! The position you have put me in tonight - I cannot undo this, Rhaenyra! I should have never disinherited Daemon for you, breaking centuries of tradition because I wanted to see your mother in you! You have spat in my face around every bend, but this? This is unforgivable, we will not recover from this and I will no longer endure your insolence!"

"Father, please, let me - "

"No," he snarled, "I have had it with your disresepct the past several years, this is beyond any scale." You blinked up at Daemon, his lips curving down as his hands tightened around your form. And then, Viserys said the words, "I made a mistake naming you my heir. You may marry Ser Laenor, if you so choose to, but after that, you will reside on Driftmark with your husband - you will no longer inherit the Iron Throne after me."

"Father!"

"No," he snapped, "you've exhausted my patience, Rhaenyra!" Viserys roared. "And while Daemon might be unpredictable, the woman he wants to marry is not - and from where I am standing, she will make a far better Queen than you!"

It was quiet as everyone forgot their own selfish woes as father disinherited daughter.

"Your Grace," your father tried to step in, "with respect, why not place your son, Aegon, in line after you?"

"Oh, for the love of the Gods, Otto," Rhaenyra raged, rounding on your father, "give up this campaign, you get all you want and more! Your daughter is Queen now and your other daughter will be Queen after that, aren't you listening? Your grandchildren will still inherit the Throne!"

"That's it," Viserys breathed, needing to hold onto the banquet table for balance as all eyes turned to him again. "It's time to do what I should've done all along. Rhaenyra," he shook his head, "I can no longer have you as my heir, this type of behavior cannot stand. I will give you permission to marry Ser Laenor, and if he chooses not to, I will allow you to reside on Dragonstone until a match is made. Until then," his eyes shifted to where you and Daemon stood, "I name my brother, Prince Daemon Targaryen, as my Heir to the Iron Throne."

"You would not name your son?" Alicent asked in mild disbelief.

"No," Viserys told her, "no, I would see my brother as my heir. Should Aegon prove to live up to his namesake, we can talk about succession again, but I know my brother is capable... And though he might be overly wanting, he will learn patience, because I know the love of a good woman can change a man for the better."

You smiled, feeling emotional for a moment, but Daemon asked for you both, "Brother, do you mean to give your blessing?"

"Of course," he nodded once, "why waste a good wedding tourney? We shall announce on the morrow our new intentions - to crown Daemon as heir and marry him to the Lady Hightower. This matter," he panted, glaring at everyone, "is resolved, I will not hear more. Make the preparations!"

It happened in slow motion. Rhaenyra's rage flared to a temperamental height previously unknown; lunging to seize her father's Valyrian Steel, prophesy-engraved dagger, turn, and charge straight for you as the remaining audience shouted in panic. You felt Daemon try to push you behind him, but instead, your own temper flared and you stepped up to meet Rhaenyra; catching both her arms to hold her at bay.

Daemon was at your flank if you needed him, otherwise, he kept the Kingsguard away from you two - knowing this needed to happen now. Or else something worse would happen later...

"For fuck's sake, Princess! What is this? Jealousy? Huh?" You asked through your tears, struggling to hold your old friend's weight away from you. "What is this jealousy, Nyrie, hmm?"

"Don't call me that," she grit. You just sighed, pushing her back a little but not enough to overpower her; the girl's anger making her stronger than you would've previously guessed. "You've gone too far," she seethed through tears.

“I? What have I done but what was expected of me? Forever upholding the Kingdom, the family, the law. While you flout all to do as you please! Where is duty? Where is sacrifice? It’s trampled under your pretty foot again!"

"You think you finally get my life, huh?" She snarled. "You won't ever be accepted - not as Queen - not as part of this family! You've wanted this all along! Haven't you!?" She struggled against you, hands sweating. "You've always wanted my life, that's why you stuck around! Your mother died - so you tried to take a place in my family, make them yours - and now, look! You're nearly there! Pouncing on my uncle the moment he's widowed!" She snarled, bearing her teeth.

“Exhausting, wasn’t it? Hiding beneath the cloak of your own righteousness. But now they see you as you are, Nyrie," you whispered with a broad smirk.

"You aren't fit to play this part! To have my life! You'll never be accepted as their Princess!"

"I wager I'll do a better job than you ever could," you hissed. "There's not much to live up to, you don't leave a lot of room to fill."

She screamed when Ser Harwin's arms seized around her waist, but the momentum of him pulling her back and Rhaenyra's thrashing cause the Valyrian Steel dagger to slice your forearm. You yelped and reared back amongst the startled gasps and panicked murmurs from the crowd, Daemon catching you. The dagger clattered to the floor as Harwin backed up several paces to keep the belligerent girl at bay. You whimpered quietly at the sting, a pool of blood forming to the side you held your arm at.

"Fuck's sake," Daemon growled, "lemme see, lemme see, my love, c'mere," he winced, looking around before using his own belt to yank free and tourniquet around your lower elbow. "You're bleeding a good bit," he whispered, "you'll need stitches, sweet one."

You pouted at him, wincing again in pain when he tightened the belt.

Around you, the Kingsguard was ordered to escort Rhaenyra to her chambers, and the moment she was marched out of sight, Daemon was warning his brother that she knew about her secret passage door and parts of the tunnels.

Go stand watch," a personal guard was ordered by the King. "Someone go - go find Ser Cole - I want him posted in the Princess' passage, he's trusted to us."

Alicent slunk off to do exactly that, and she'd tell you later that Cole was found only moments from taking his own life. He was overjoyed to hear the King had requested him personally to stand guard for such a sensitive situation.

In the meantime, Lord Corlys Velaryon and his wife, Princess Rhaenys Targaryen, thought it best their son not marry Rhaenyra; now that she had been disowned, she was less appealing. Viserys was free to offer her again later if Laenor was not married in that time and if she showed true change, but after tonight, nobody thought that possible.

Daemon tried helping your wound, your father approaching as he laid a clean cloth over the cut. Your lover tisked, "It's deeper than I thought. We should get this looked at."

"A moment," Otto prevented.

"If it would please you, this is not an injury I'd like to wait to attend to," Daemon sighed, nodding at your bloodied forearm that he held.

"I only meant to say, you have my blessing to marry, my Prince," Otto nodded at him. "Seeing the kindness you show my daughter, I feel... Content knowing she will be loved and cared for."

"Thank you," Daemon nodded.

"Yes, thank you, Father, but we really must be going, this doesn't feel very nice," you rushed to explain, watching him nod and eye your injury with worry.

"This way," He even instructed, a few handmaids rushing forward to help herd you away.

"Doing all right, love?" Daemon muttered as you walked.

"Bit shocked," you admitted.

"I'd say," he mused.

"It burns," you pouted at him.

"We'll get everything tended to, you'll feel better soon," he soothed.

You peaked up at his worried brow, pouted lips, darting eyes; whispering, "You're heir, again, Daemon."

"So it would seem," he deadpanned. "Can we not talk about it now?" He requested quietly, "I only wish to see to this wound of yours."

You nodded, and once in Mellos' chamber, you were left alone with your father - since Daemon was not yet your husband. Otto was silent as your forearm was stitched carefully; the bleeding staunched, herbs stuffed in the wound to prevent pain and promote healing. As you let Mellos wrap you in gauze, you glanced at your father.

"So... Your blessing, is it?"

"He's different with you already," he nodded stiffly. "And after his nieces' display tonight, I can think of no better future Queen."

"I do not wish to talk about future station, Father, but instead, that... That Daemon makes me happy and I am relieved you have given us your blessing. It would've felt very wrong to marry without my father in attendance."

Otto wasn't affectionate in the least bit, but he showed his love by doing his best to understand situations before passing judgement. It created a sense of trust and security between father and daughter. So, he asked earnestly, "And you will overlook what he did with Princess Rhaenyra?"

"He told me of it all the morning after it happened, I've had time to think, and I've had time away from him. I know what I want, Father, and while Viserys has changed history - again - tonight by naming Daemon heir, I know he is the man I want for the rest of my life."

"I see," he nodded. "Then... By all means, I will see this union happen."

"Thank you," you whispered, the Maester tying the gauze. "Thank you, Grand Maester," you spoke calmly.

"Of course, uh, um, Princess."

"I don't think I'll get used to hearing that," you whined, standing off his table. "Will you talk to Daemon for me, Father? I think you need to clear the air... I will not say the King will instill you as Hand again, but if I am to marry the Prince, I will need there to be peace between our families."

He nodded, opening the door for you, "It will be arranged, my daughter..."

As Otto took his leave, Daemon, pacing the hall, approached you. He took hold of your waist, asking, "Are you all right?" You let him hold your injured wrist in a soft grip, viewing the wrappings.

"Yes, Your Grace," you teased, watching his pale face flush.

"Don't start with that."

"Mellos just called me Princess."

"You are," he grinned. "And we will be married in less than a week's time."

"I can hardly wait," you whispered, letting his lips find yours in a searing show of rare public affection.

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trulyhblue · 8 months

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write the niamh **** i dare you!!!!!!! never knew i was this down bad for her until she came out in the captains armband and i was like…there’s something about this, she is confident and she is hot and respectfully i shouldn’t say any more

Back To You

Niamh Charles x Aussie! Reader

Warnings: Smut 18+, massive praise kink, degradation, vibrator, thigh-riding, edging, breeding kink, angst, a bit of Man U hate, semi-public themes, coarse language.

A/N — the demand for Niamhy is finally here…. I honestly don't know what came over me. Bit long, hope you enjoy!

__________________

Time after time, you had watched your girlfriend get angry on the pitch.

You had seen her push and shove, swear and tackle. Niamh wasn't an extremely violent person by any means. She could be kind, gentle, loving, and full of empathy, and in most cases, she was. She wasn't always an intolerance on the field, usually keeping the pace instead of arguing and slowing it down. She was determined, you were technical. All relationships aside, the two of you blended well on the field.

But, Niamh was many things that you weren't.

You had joined Chelsea after progressing through the United Academy. You were born in Manchester and grew up playing football. The move down to London was difficult, but you made your WSL debut in the Blues jersey, and have stayed loyal to them ever since. Unlike many of your teammates, you were very shy. You’d much rather carry the ball down the field than give a shot at goal. You liked weaving in between the midfield and opening up opportunities for your teammates rather than pursuing something for yourself. There was a joke among the Football community that you were allergic to the penalty area because you tried to avoid it at all costs.

You were on the younger side of the team as well, meaning you had less experience than some of your friends. The girls were always there to lift you up and support you, but you managed to stay under the radar, behind the inevitable spotlight.

“Ready for today, Y/L/N?” Sam asked, pulling you out of your daze as you laced your boots. The news of your skipper tearing her ACL was fresh in your mind, but her presence in the room still comforting before a game like this.

Millie was opposite you, patting your knee a few times as she chuckled. “Gonna show those reds a masterclass today, aren't ‘ya?”

You blushed at that, staring down at your boots to avoid the bashful compliments you were receiving. You didn't start often, being classed as a constant sub instead. Today, you were starting. It only made you more anxious that it was against your parent club, one that you used to stay loyal to. One that United fans still ridicule you for leaving. You were an anxious person anyway, but a sold-out stadium and a phone full of social media only fueled your apprehension more.

Your teammates knew of this stress you placed on yourself, and what others placed on you. They had told you thousands of times that Chelsea was lucky to have you, but you constantly lacked the confidence to agree with them. You wanted to prove to everyone that you were capable of exceeding expectations.

“Piss off, you two.” You heard a familiar voice snap. “Leave her alone.”

You looked up to find your girlfriend grabbing your hand, pulling you up so she could wrap her arms across your shoulders. You engulfed her usual scent and sighed in contentment, hugging her back with your arms around her waist, your head against her chest.

You heard Sam scoff, the two women giggling to each other like school girls.

“Captain Niamhy to the rescue.” Your usual skipper teased, poking your side. You yelped, and Niamh sent a glare towards Millie. Sam wobbled closer to the two of you, laughing at the blush that painted your cheeks.

“C’mon, Mils. Let's leave these two love birds by themselves.” She chuckled. “Niamhy wants to show off the armband.”

“I’ll take your crutches, Kerr.” Niamh retorted, ignoring the two women as they sauntered off, placing her attention back on you.

You had left her wandering hands, turned towards your cubby, searching your bag for a hair brush. The anticipation of the game was continuously creeping up on you, and Niamh noticed your apprehension from a mile away.

Your breath hitched when you felt your girlfriend’s hands grip your waist, her front pushing up against your arse. Her voice was softer, raspier. Your bent figure made her bend down so that her mouth was level with your ear.

“You're going make me so proud today, aren't you, Baby?”Her tone sent a shiver down your body, her hot breath fanning down your neck. “‘Gonna show everyone how good you are for me?”

You nodded, feeling your throat close at your flustered state. Your face flushed an embarrassing shade of crimson when Niamh pushed you further into your cubby, moving one of her hands down to the inside of your thigh.

“You’ve got to use your words, yeah?” She muttered, maneuvering your arse so it aligned with her front. “I want to hear you on the field today, okay? Even if I'm on the other side. Understood?”

“Yes.” You muttered.

Niamh tutted. “Yes…?”

You felt all your composure start to fizzle down to your core. “Yes, Niamh.”

“Good.”

You were about to groan before Niamh pulled you upright, tightening her grip on your waist once more before leaving a chaste kiss on your forehead. You threw your head back and sighed, trying desperately to compose yourself before anyone questioned you.

You followed the team out onto the pitch, not realising that Niamh’s little stunt was to take your mind off the game. You moved through shaking everyone’s hands with ease, taking your position without a second glance towards anyone.

The whistle blew, and you were off.

Chelsea were determined to prove themselves after the poor efforts of the West Ham game. People were doubting the Blues after Sam’s injury and the girls all wanted everyone to know that they were serious contestants.

You were never predictable in the midfield, despite never really moving in and out of the middle very often. You found yourself creating as many chances as possible, crossing the ball into United’s half to the best of your ability.

The constant booing from United and cheers from Chelsea were a healthy, even mix, heightening the odds of the game as it progressed. You made as many breaks as you could before you felt the air in your lungs deflate when your body hit the floor.

You were slightly winded from the tackle, needing a moment to gather yourself before making the effort to get back up. Katie Zelem was the one stalking away from you, holding in a smug grin when some of the Chelsea girls threw their hands up in contention — your girlfriend included.

You shook the exchange off, hoping Zelem thought you weren't fazed by the late challenge. The crowd spurred the game into a further frenzy, coercing both sides to exacerbate their emotions.

You strained your neck from side to side, picking up the ball that had rolled away and getting ready for your free kick. Fortunately, the penalty was within United’s half, so naturally, Chelsea banked up near the goal, waiting as you began to run. You watched as the ball was sent over the top of most of the players in the direction of Lauren near the goalpost. With a flick of her head, the girl sent the ball hurling past Mary Earps’ head, speeding over to you in celebration as the United fans were up in arms at the assist you just had.

The team surrounded the two of you, hugging each other before making the swift return back to your position. Millie and Guro made a show of patting your head. Lauren shook your shoulders while Erin jumped up and down. You searched the group for Niamh, but frowned when your girlfriend was on the other side of the field.

“What is she doing?” You asked to no one in particular, staring down Niamh as she spoke with the Ref and Zelem.

Erin shrugged, throwing an arm over your shoulder. “Who cares? All you need to worry about is doing more of what you just did.”

You chuckled at the Scottish woman, using your hand to propel her away playfully. Both sides took their positions, ready to start over. United started with the ball, passing back to their defensive line before weaving it forward.

You weren't too pleased with the style of aggression that both teams were playing with, wishing that you’d walk away with a clean win and sheet. You knew from playing with most of the Manchester girls that they were taught to fight back with twice as much wrath if they were placed into a compromised position like this. Millie Turner was marking you non-stop, and Maya metres away from you at all times. You struggled to keep the ball by your feet without someone coming up behind you and snaking away quicker than it arrived. You were growing more and more irritated as the game progressed, causing you to make stupid mistakes and overthink.

Hayley Ladds sent a shot through Hannah’s hands leading into halftime. Lucia Garcia was holding onto your shirt, yanking it back in an effort to stop you from defending. You watched the Manchester girls crowd each other like your team had done at the start of the game.

You had half a mind to stomp over to the group and pull them apart, but as you looked around, you realised the rest of your team wanted to do the same. The continuous physicality of the Reds was not something you were used to. Chelsea had been dominating the league for the most part — this was not something you were expecting.

The halftime whistle blew, calling the game to a temporary halt as both teams made their way to the changing rooms.

You marched over to Hannah, patting her on the back before retrieving the ball. The girls watched you run back to the middle of the field, placing the ball in its starting position and running back. You could hear the fans screaming as your studs hit the concrete floor, yet you kept your head down to drown out your internal disappointment.

On the rare occasion that you did start, you tried your absolute hardest to keep the ball rolling. You were determined to show people that you weren't just a sub, that you were a valuable asset to the team that deserved to be a part of the starting eleven each week. Back home, you played almost every game during the World Cup with the Matildas. When Steph wasn’t Captain, it was either you or Caitlin. When Sam came back, people found out why Chelsea was lucky to have the two of you. You grew up playing alongside your Aussie teammates, so it was no wonder you moulded so well with them.

You just couldn't understand why you couldn't apply yourself here.

You were about to walk into the Changing Rooms when you heard someone call you out from behind. You turned, finding Katie Zelem walking towards you.

“Can't handle a tackle, can you?” She quipped, watching you remove your shin pads from under your socks. “Even Charles thinks so.”

“You're real cocky for fourth on the table.” You retorted, crossing your arms over your chest. “See you in the second half.”

Zelem stepped forward, scoffing. “Thats if you're not subbed off.”

You shrugged, sliding behind the door and slamming it in response. You knew Katie was saying it in the heat of the moment, but it irked you all the same. Off the pitch, you would apologise and probably trade shirts or something. Now, all you were thinking about was staying on that pitch.

The break went by fast, and you hadn't talked to anyone except for Zelem during that short time.

Guro asked if you were alright, but you shook her off. Niamh had caught onto your mood and figured it best to let you internalise what you were feeling.

Walking back onto the pitch with this newfound persistence meant for a different game. You came on wanting this win more than anyone. Despite the contrary belief of fans, people on the internet, Zelem and anyone else, you wanted to prove this to yourself.

The whistle blew, and you sprinted across towards as an attacking mid. You held out your hand when Guro got hold of the ball, darting down the wing near the edge of the field. Soon enough, the ball fell to your feet. You were expecting the cross to be quick in your feat past Toone and Garcia, moving diligently through their backline for the first time that game.

It seemed that both teams were surprised at your spur of movement. No one was used to seeing you near the goals, now all of a sudden you were on your way to scoring one. You heard Lauren beside you in the penalty box, calling for a pass, but you felt your knees give out when unknown studs hit the back of your shin. The decision of a penalty sending everyone to their feet in either disarray or ecstasy. Everyone expected you to cry out in pain when the whistle blew for contact, but you sprawled back onto your feet in a heartbeat, shoving Katie’s shoulder with so much force it nearly sent her toppling backward.

“What's wrong?” Zelem asked, swiping her shirt in order to rid the mud that had tracked her jersey. “Why the grumpy face?”

“You’re an absolute ride-off, you know that?” You spoke, keeping your eyes focused on her.

“I'm not the one always falling—”

“Oh, fuck off, Zelem!” You snapped, loud enough for the Ref to hear, as you sent another potent push towards the United Captain. A yellow was shown to both of you, leaving Katie to storm off and you to contest the card as soon as it was given.

You were about to give the woman a mouthful when someone came up behind you, grabbing the fabric of your jersey and pulling it into their waist.

You looked up to find Niamh making sure you didn't gain a red, moving you away from the scene with a knot between her eyebrows.

“Did you see her knock her over?” Niamh asked the ref, who was shaking her head at you. “She's been on her the entire game. It's been contacted, late challenges the entire time.”

The ref gave your skipper a warning look, enough for both of you to step away. “You’ve been given the penalty.” She simply put it, motioning for the shot to be taken.

You managed to leave Niamh’s grasp, leaning your hands on your hips as you waited for Guro, who was standing not far from you, to take the shot.

“What are you waiting for?” She called out. “You take it.”

It wasn't much of a shock considering you were the signified penalty taker for your National Team, but Guro’s decision still surprised you nonetheless. You found Niamh beside you still, looking at you up and down with a concealed smirk. You were undoubtedly dirty from the amount of time you spent on the floor, your hair slightly chaotic with strands falling from your face. Your cheeks were tinged a stingy red from the demand of the game, and beads of sweat framed your face.

Your appearance reminded Niamh too much of something else, causing her mind to reel at the thoughts of you lying beneath her. There was someone about you today that sent her into a frenzy. Between the two of you, it was usually Niamh who got herself in trouble with the Refs. You weren't ever the one to contest a card — even when you only had a handful — and instead you’d be the one pulling Niamh away from doing just that.

The reversed roles spurred something within the Captain as she watched her girlfriend line herself up to take the Penalty. You were searching the box for somewhere to slot it into, knowing Earps was ready to defend like her life depended on it.

The stadium went into an eerie silence as you heard the whistle mark your turn. You felt the wind propel you forward, using all your might to kick the ball as hard as you could. Watching anxiously, teething in slow motion, you felt your legs carry you across the pitch, cheering when the ball crashed against the back of the net.

Teammates were on your back instantly, hurling you to the floor, screaming amongst the fans. They shook you, congratulating you, the feeling like you had just scored your first-ever goal resurfacing. You clambered up to face the crowd, smiling as a wave of blue rose to their feet.

The game ended with Chelsea fans swarming the tunnel, fans reaching their hands down so they’d meet yours. The short circuit around the pitch was full of euphoria. Everyone was reeling at the game, and compliments were showering at the sight of your Player Of the Match award.

“Yeah, the Aussie!” Sam shouted, meeting you in the Changing Rooms with a bone-crushing hug. You laughed at the woman’s energy, letting her sway you back and forth before lifting the trophy up into the air.

Following Sam’s mischief, Millie’s arms snaked around your waist, lifting you up on the spot. “Look at you go, Missy! Making us proud today, aren't ‘ya?”

“Wasn't all me.” You mumbled, cheeks fragmented with a prominent blush as your teammates scoffed and ridiculed your modesty from around the room. To say they were proud was an understatement. Half of them had already posted for social media, Sam letting everyone know that you were a Matilda with a of you with your national flag wrapped across your shoulders and the Player of The Match Trophy, with the caption ‘a smashing Tillie’ on her story.

“I remember your first goal for Australia,” Sam said, pretending to wipe tears from her eyes. You huffed, shoving her slightly.

“That was years ago, Kerr.”

Sam sighed, shaking her head. “I remember it like it was yesterday.”

Your shower was a nice treat for your teething muscles, your sweats and Niamh’s jumper keeping you warm as you packed your bag and waited for Niamh to finish her media duties.

Once you saw her leaving one of the reporter’s sides, you noticed the dark tinge behind her eyes when she met yours. The smirk that aligned her face on the pitch carried itself to now, making its way across her face as she trampled over to where you stood.

Wrapping her arms around your shoulders, shovelling your head into her chest, she groaned, breathing in the scent of your freshly washed as dried hair.

“Ready to go?” you asked, hoping your girlfriend was just as eager to get back to your shared apartment as you were.

“You did so well today, baby.”

You watched Niamh break away from your shared contact, looking at her jumper hugging the curves of your figure, making it known that she’d much rather see you without it instead.

“Want to show you how proud I am.”

She threaded her fingers across the hem of your jumper, tucking her hand underneath the waistband of your trackpants, and toying with the elastic. Your breath hitched at the cold that pricked your skin, hoping Niamh was too preoccupied with her antics to notice the ache between your thighs.

“Niamhy.” You whispered, looking down at the pavement, waiting for your girlfriend to unhook her lingering hands.

“What do you want me to do, Baby? Want me to show everyone here how good you are?”

“Niamh, I—”

“Good girls get rewards, y’know?” Niamh pulled you closer, her hand moving out of your pants and over your arse, giving it a small squeeze before using her arms to lead you towards the car. “Bet you’d enjoy me fucking you for everyone to see. Show everyone who’s slut you are.”

You couldn't reply. If you did, it wouldn't be coherent. You were silent the whole way home, save for the sacred whimper that fell from your lips when Niamh’s hand squeezed your thigh, the distance of her fingers growing closer to where you needed her in each growing second. You could feel the radiation of desire emitting through the car all the way home. You were itching to feel some kind of relief, especially after the stunt your girlfriend had pulled before the game.

You forgot all about Niamh’s actions throughout the game, only remembering it when the waves of arousal moved down to your core. All you could think about was the way Niamh’s fingers ghosted your clit, teasing you with soft patterns across your legs.

When you arrived home, both of you pretty much bolted inside, dropping your bags onto the floor, only just making it to the bed when your lips met hers in an endeavoured embrace.

You let a moan leave your lips when Niamh pushed you onto the bed, crawling on top of you to swallow your unseemly noises with her tongue. The air in the room was thick as you lifted your hips, attempting to grind against her hips for some well-needed friction.

“So desperate, aren't we?” Niamh tutted, holding herself up with her arms to watch your neediness from afar. She licked her lips at the sight of you writhing beneath her. Your thighs clenched together, rubbing together in despairing need. Much to your dismay, Niamh pulled your knees apart, holding them to the bed with her own legs and a potent smile.

“Niamhy, please.” You whined, the lack of touch sending you into a new dimension of misery. Niamh crained her lips to meet your neck, finding solace in your moans when her lips found your sweet spot. She sucked and licked, rolling her tongue around the growing hickey. She held your legs open, leaving no room for friction. Your head faced the ceiling, your eyes clasped shut as you sighed at the hot marks left all over your neck. With your arms, you threaded Niamh’s hair through your hands, pushing her head deeper into your neck, bringing it down near your breasts.

“Good girls use their words, don't they?” Your girlfriend asked, peeling away from your body, leaving a cold absence behind.

You audibly moaned at the loss of contact. “I've already been a good girl. Been so good, and you said I’d get a reward.”

“Been so good for me, haven't you Babygirl?” Niamh smirked, her lips shadowing your ear, teeth nibbling the skin. “Such a good girl for scoring, aren't you? But maybe I should've bent you over during the game. Show everyone what you deserve. To have you bent over and wet for me.”

“Yes, so wet for you.” You replied, squirming as you felt your core drip with arousal. “Just want you so bad, Niamh.”

“Bet you do.” You felt one of her fingers inch up your jumper, letting the cool air nip your skin. You arched your back, feeling a wave of pleasure overcome you when Niamh’s hand met your breast. “Always wanting me to fuck you senseless like you're mine.”

She fondled it slowly, flicking your nipple in between her fingers, watching your eyes roll back when she pushed down on your cleavage. “Such a good slut for me though. So ready for me always. Are you ready for me now?”

Your head seeped into the pillow, the feeling of your breasts being attended to sending you into ecstasy. “Oh— yes, Niamh. Please, so ready for you. Want you inside me so bad.”

“Let me take this off first,” Niamh muttered, stripping off your jumper hastily, groaning at the sight of your chest on full display. You moaned and wiggled at the air hitting your nipples, making them harden for Niamh’s sole exhibition. Without hesitation, she took one of your nipples into her mouth, sucking harshly, nibbling slightly, leaving dark, heavy marks across both your breasts. Her hands groped both of them, moving them to her liking and rubbing them back and forth at varying paces. You writhed beneath her, your cheeks aflame at the sight of the marks littering your chest.

“Marking me up so good, baby.” You sighed, hoping the praise would speed up the process. “Wanna be your good girl so bad, Niamh.”

“So perfect for me.” She mumbled, her speech impaired as she was too busy marking you to lean up. “Taking me so well, aren't you? Is that what you want? You want me to fill you up? Make you so full of cum?”

Your instant agreeance made the girl chuckle. “Want you to fill me up. Wanna make my captain proud, Niamhy. Want you so bad.”

When hearing those words fall from your mouth, Niamh couldn't help but moan. She didn't know you had been turned on by her captaincy. If she had known prior, she would've brought the fucking armband home with her. She wouldn't fucked you multiple times with the band stuffed in your mouth, around her arm, or anywhere that remotely turned you on. She would've been lying if she hadn't found your unknown kink arousing, for the thriving want of tasting you grew as your sweet nothings filled the air.

Niamh pulled her head down, kissing down your abdomen and torso, looking back once more at the mess she had made over your chest before kneading your hips for some sense of relief.

“You've made me so proud, Baby.” She found the waistband of your pants once more, this time, taking her time to find the strength to pull them down. “But rewards can vary, remember? Sometimes, good girls get to choose what they want when they've made their captain proud.”

“Just want you, Niamh.” You whined, crying out when you lifted your hips for what felt like the hundredth time, only to meet nothing.

Your girlfriend hummed, inching down your pants, hoping you’d make your decision more sufficiently than that. “I'm afraid you're gonna have to be more specific than that, my love. Good girls who get to choose their rewards have to use their words.”

When you didn't immediately reply, Niamh shook her head, looking towards the draw that sat by your bedside table. “I thought you said you were my good girl?”

“I am! Just want you, though.”

Niamh knew when you got like this, you just wanted to be told what to do. You were always the quieter one in every situation, introverted and kept to your own. In many ways, Niamh liked that about you. Your outgoing person today against United was something she could get used to. But she wanted to make you feel more comfortable in speaking your truth. She wanted you to know that your decision was valued among discussions. She was not sure how to implement this into everyday life just yet, but she found that during sex, even if Niamh was dominating the exchange — which nine times out of ten she was — she wanted you to have autonomy over what you did.

This was just one example among many, and when you didn't comply, she’d have different methods to get you speaking.

She waited an extra moment just in case you changed your mind before leaning towards the table and searching for something in particular.

You were so subbed out that you didn't even notice the noise until you felt Niamh pull you upright, pulling you up to stand in front of the bed while she peeled off her top, leaving her in a sports bra and training shorts.

When you noticed what she held in her hands, you groaned. “Niamhy—”

“Shut up and listen.” She ordered, her firmness overpowering the contrasted softness she once held before. You straightened up, rubbing your legs together and moaning at the basic sense of relief that flooded down to your clit.

“Take off your pants. Keep your underwear on.”

You made no argument in that, taking no time in chucking your pants in the opposite direction, leaving your tarnished, drenched underwear on show.

“Come here.” Niamh stretched her legs out and beckoned you over. “Don't sit but hover.”

You did as you were told, not entirely wanting to act like a brat after you've just been promised a reward. Your legs ached from the game and from waiting for some kind of relief, shaking ever so slightly as you waited over Niamh’s leg for further instruction.

“Here’s what's going to happen,” You felt your cheeks darken at your girlfriend's firm tone, biting your lips and watching the woman play with the vibrator in her hand.“Since you expect me to do all the work and make all the decisions, you've landed yourself here.” You nodded intently, not exactly sure where this was heading. “You've got to realise that you need to tell me what you want to do sometimes, okay? It's not always about what I want to do. You've got to want it to. Do you understand?”

Even with the sternness of her tone, her underlying motives were precious. You nodded again, your legs growing even more sore as your thighs flexed at the stretch over Niamh.

“Yes, Niamh. I promise I do.”

Your girlfriend inevitably noticed your ache but chose to continue on her rant, knowing that you knew you weren't going to go to sleep tonight unsatisfied.

“You’ll get your reward after this,” With a flick of a switch, you heard the vibrator sound from beneath where you hovered. “You're going to get off on my thigh and the vibrator without my help. All I'm going to do is watch you.”

You let out a guttural moan when Niamh placed the toy against your thigh, looking at her with the utmost displeasure when she chose to put it there instead of your clit.

“You get to come,” Niamh grabbed both of your hips, squeezing them and making sure they were up and away from any friction. “But only when you to tell me two ways you want me to fuck you tonight.”

Your jaw slightly dropped at that. You were never the one to say anything incredibly vulgar, always alluding to what you wanted through noises and actions. Niamh always got slightly annoyed when you weren't confident in what you wanted, especially after your climax when she’d cuddle up beside you and rid of all the juices that leaked from your core. Niamh knew how to please you better than anyone else could, and she knew that you knew that. In fact, she took great pride in knowing that you trusted her to get you off without needing to tell her. But it was a long time coming. You knew that Niamh wanted you to speak your truth, not just in the bedroom but everywhere. You didn't want to stand out or say something not worthwhile. You were quite content with staying under the radar.

But despite this, Niamh waited for your approval of the idea, only turning up the vibrator and placing her hands behind her head when you spoke audible clearance.

You lowered yourself onto Niamh’s thigh as soon as possible, reeling your head backwards when the vibrations made their way into your core. Your girlfriend groaned st the sight of you rubbing your heat against her, finding it difficult not to grab you and fuck you right then and there. She watched you roll your hips back and forth, letting you use the headboard for you to balance yourself with extra support. It took you a while to find a rhythm, only consistent in your movements when some of the fabric of your underwear rubbed up against your clit, making you moan out at the contact of your swollen nub. Niamh saw the vibrator appear in and out of your humps, finding herself staring at the gleaming patch of arousal coating her thigh. The toy buzzes against your thigh, aiding you in your endeavours to get off.

The flustered state and external shyness in what you were meant to say daunted you as you felt your climax approaching.

You refused to look at Niamh in hopes that she would forget about her orders and watch you cum all over her instead.

The fabric against your clit rubbed itself back and forth diligently to the extent that the combination of the vibrator, and the slick made your breathing uneven and the coil in your stomach build to higher distances. You felt your tits move as you kneaded one and pitched the other nipple, closing your eyes and imagining Niamh.

You let out a pornographic moan, euphoria almost washing over you when your core clenched around nothing and started to release. You were about to finally feel a sense of relief when hands found your hips, lifting you away from any friction whatsoever as the vibrator was switched off.

“I can do this all night, y’know.” You heard her say, scoffing when you pouted. “I know how to get off on my own. I've got the videos of you cumming all over my face to prove it.”

“I was so close.”

“You could be so close every single time,” Niamh took the vibrator away, wiping the creamy liquid that coated the toy. “But if you do it again, I’ll edge you all night until you're overstimulated and forget everything except my name. You’ll be begging to cum and you won't even think about cumming for the next month.”

“Niamh, that’s—”

She cut you off with a sudden buzz directly on your clit. Your eyes widened at the vibrator next to your nub, moaning and crying out at the instant pleasure that fell over you. Your core was already sensitive to the teasing and edging, so your senses were heightened at the feeling. You knew Niamh wasn't bluffing, and you knew you wouldn't be able to get away with this.

She slipped off your underwear, letting the air reach your swollen clit.

“You're going to hump my thigh with this vibrator inside of you and tell me how you want me to fuck you.” She started. “Or, every night, I tie you up and make you watch me fuck myself to videos of you for the next month.”

She lowered you back onto her thigh, smirking when you whined at the vibrator pushing its tip inside of you. The toy wasn't able to fit wholly inside of you, only having to latch onto your clit and slightly inside your hole for it to work its magic. It made you crave for Niamh’s finger to fill you up and push your prior orgasms into you. You wanted her to fill you up with her strap and fuck you into ecstasy while you screamed out her name over and over again. You remembered many nights when Niamh would coat her strap with her own cum and fuck it into you. Her phone would be propped up somewhere, showcasing the juices forced up your hole. Niamh has a photo of you doing absolutely anything.

“Niamhy, want you— want you to—”

“Tell me, sweetheart, what do you want?”

When she was away for National Camps, and you couldn't Facetime due to the time difference, you sent her a video of you fingering yourself while whining about how much you missed her fingers.

“Want you to fill me— with your fingers-”

“Gonna make sure you're full of me, baby.”

She had a video of you getting yourself off with her watching. She had photos of you in all types of positions. She had an album of you screaming her name, calling her everything under the sun, cause she told you to and you always complied.

“Your mouth— your strap, Niamhy, want your dick inside me so bad.”

“Pound into until you're subbed out, am I?”

You remember watching a video of you riding her strap with her England Jersey on, bouncing up and down on the toy with your tits bobbing in front of the camera.

“Want to ride you like now. Eat me— eat me out, Niamhy, baby.”

“Fuck, baby, say my name.”

You knew that if you didn't comply, Niamh had plenty of things to keep her occupied.

The vibrator rolled inside of you, sending your back arching and heat throbbing. “Niamh, baby, I’m— fuck! I'm so close!”

Niamh was flushed, encaptured by the visual show of your tits and the way you bounced on her thigh so that the vibrator would dig its way into your core.

“Come for me, baby.” She spoke, jolting her knee so that the pressure in between your thighs would double.

You screamed, letting out the loudest of moans, as you felt your come coat the vibrator entirely, leaking all over Niamh’s thigh and yours.

“Such a good girl for me, aren't you gorgeous.” Niamh’s voice was raspy and hoarse. “Ride it out for me, baby. Yeah— just like that.” Her grip on your hips sent your orgasm out as she moved your hips back and forth until it was too much.

You moved to the side, collapsing so that your back was against the bed.

Niamh climbed on top of you, a devilish, content smirk lining her lips.

“We’re not done yet, love.”

You whined, but internally, you were excited for the night you were about to have.

_______________________

A/N — oh my god.

771 notes · View notes

floralcyanide · 30 days

Text

⊹ when in copenhagen

request: a basic one to start! shower sex with carmy? in which you and Carmy argue your way into showering together.

↝ pairing: Carmen "Carmy" Berzatto x Fem!Reader

↝ warnings: spoilers for The Bear (kinda?), smut (mdni!), unprotected sex, penetrative sex, brief nipple play, fingering, arguing (a lot), shower sex

↝ word count: 2k

↝ author's note: finally watched The Bear!! so guess what that means lol (I hope you all enjoy this!! I didn't edit lowkey but oh well)

masterlist ⋇ divider credit: @cafekitsune

this fic has been cross posted to ao3.

ᴅᴏ ɴᴏᴛ ᴄᴏᴘʏ, ʀᴇᴘʀᴏᴅᴜᴄᴇ, ᴏʀ ᴄʟᴀɪᴍ ᴍʏ ᴡᴏʀᴋ ᴀs ʏᴏᴜʀs ᴏɴ ᴛᴜᴍʙʟʀ, ᴀᴏ3, ᴡᴀᴛᴛᴘᴀᴅ, ᴏʀ ᴀɴʏ ᴡᴇʙsɪᴛᴇ. ʏᴏᴜ ᴅᴏ ɴᴏᴛ ʜᴀᴠᴇ ᴘᴇʀᴍɪssɪᴏɴ ᴛᴏ ᴜsᴇ ᴍʏ ᴡᴏʀᴋs ɪɴ ᴀɪ ɢᴇɴᴇʀᴀᴛᴏʀs ᴏʀ ᴀɴʏᴛʜɪɴɢ ᴛᴏ ᴅᴏ ᴡɪᴛʜ ᴀʀᴛɪғɪᴄɪᴀʟ ɪɴᴛᴇʟʟɪɢᴇɴᴄᴇ. ʏᴏᴜ ᴍᴀʏ ɴᴏᴛ ᴜsᴇ ᴍʏ ᴡᴏʀᴋs ᴛᴏ sᴇʟʟ ғᴏʀ ᴀs ʏᴏᴜʀ ᴏᴡɴ ᴄʀᴇᴀᴛɪᴏɴ

There’s not a lot of room on this boat.

It’s your first thought as you take time to tour where you’ll be residing for a while. You’re in Copenhagen, Denmark, for some cooking lessons, but not alone. You’re with your fellow chef and another student of Andrea Terry’s, Carmen Berzatto. You aren’t quite sure why Chef Terry sent both of you here simultaneously, but you have a few ideas. One of them is that the two of you solve the weird tension you have going on while you’re here. The other is to obviously kill two birds with one stone and send more than one chef to learn new ways to create. But the first idea seemed the most likely. The houseboat where you and Carmen, or Carmy, as he preferred to be called, are going to stay for the foreseeable future is fairly dinky and barely has room for two beds. One of them is technically the couch that pulls out into a full-size bed. You and Carmy will probably argue over who gets which bed. The two of you argue a lot over just about everything. Chef Terry is probably ecstatic that she gets a break from it for a while.

It isn’t long before a disagreement on who gets to shower first begins. There’s also a side banter on who is making dinner or whether or not you’re ordering in and who is doing the ordering. It’s sort of your dynamic to never agree on anything, ever. You wish you had taken this trip separately, but of course, Chef Terry had to deal you a bad hand. Enriching your palettes is one thing, but your stress levels are another. You can’t see the tension between the two of you resolving any time soon, so you fear this supposed adventure isn’t going to be as enjoyable as you thought.

In a moment of pressed anger, a sarcastic comment leaves your lips, “We could always just shower together and shut the fuck up about it.”

“That’s actually not a bad idea,” Carmy rubs his chin before turning around and grabbing two towels from the linen closet.

“What?” you laugh incredulously, “You can’t be serious right now.”

“Look,” Carmy rolls his eyes, “It’s better than standing here arguing all fucking night, is it not?”

You cross your arms and stifle a pout, much like a child, but meet Carmy’s eyes reluctantly, “Fine. Just don’t look at me while I shower.”

“That’s going to be a little difficult since we’re going to be right next to each other, but I won’t have to try very hard anyway,” Carmy rolls his eyes.

You’re slightly offended by his comment but recover enough to follow him to the bathroom without responding. Carmy pulls off his shirt before turning on the shower and tossing it onto the floor. You do the same as the two of you quickly undress, avoiding each other’s gaze. You frown at the somewhat weak stream of water coming from the shower and dare to glance at Carmy’s bare back. You aren’t blind by any means; Carmy is attractive as hell. He’s built quite nicely in a physical manner and has flattering features. Plus, you can’t help but be attracted to how quickly he can match your attitude. So, keeping your eyes averted from Carmy’s naked, sculpted body is a little difficult on your end. But it doesn’t seem hard at all for your fellow traveler to avoid staring, as you had asked him to. It’s a little disappointing, but at least you finally get to wash off the stale sweat you’ve been sporting for hours. The shower stall is small but spacious enough to some degree for two people to fit.

Once both of you find yourselves under the water, Carmy wastes no time scrubbing himself with the soap he brought with him. You do the same, keeping your eyes to yourself and trying not to accidentally nudge him with your elbow. The two of you struggle to rinse off without nearly slipping or bumping into each other.

“How about one of us washes first and rinses, and the other one goes next?” Carmy turns to you, sighing in frustration.

“Who goes first, then?” you raise an eyebrow, expecting to argue some more.

“You can, by all means,” Carmy offers, and your jaw almost drops.

You furrow your brow at him, “And what do I owe you for this lack of fussing?”

“Nothing,” he shrugs innocently.

The reality is that Carmy just wants to watch you. Not in a creepy way, or maybe it is sort of creepy, but he thinks you’re attractive, too. The no-watching rule doesn’t count if you aren't caught, right? Carmy just needs to be slick about it. You hesitantly take up the offer to fully wash first, squirting some shampoo into your palm before lathering it into your hair.

“If you need me to get your back, just let me know, sweetheart,” Carmy offers jokingly.

You snort, “I will. Thanks.”

You manage to wash and condition your hair in peace, unknowingly having the burning blue eyes of Carmy on you. When it’s time to wash everywhere else, you take Carmy up on his offer just to see his reaction. You turn around to face him, his gaze quickly averting away.

“Actually, if you could get my back, I’d greatly appreciate it, Carm,” you smile cheekily, offering him your loofah.

“Oh,” he says, “I didn’t think you’d actually take me up on it,” he scoffs, taking the loofah from you.

“Stranger things have happened,” you shrug.

“Hmm. Really?” Carmy starts to gently scrub your back, “Like what?”

“Us showering together is literally one of those things,” you say plainly.

“No need for sass,” Carmy leans into your ear, “We were doing just fine there for a minute.”

You fight back a shiver at Carmy’s closeness, “You’re right. I’ll be quiet now. Keep scrubbing.”

Carmy switches the loofah for his hand, spreading the suds around with his palm, massaging your tense shoulders. You let out a small sigh at the feeling of yourself relaxing for the first time today. Carmy snakes his arm around you, handing you the loofah back.

“Who said for you to stop?” you turn your head around at him, and you’re met with his eyes being darker than usual.

“I could keep going, but uh,” Carmy clears his throat, “I can’t promise I’ll stop.”

“Why’s that?” you ask curiously, borderline teasing.

“Don’t trek into dangerous territory,” Carmy warns.

You turn to fully face him, “I know your comment earlier wasn’t true. About you not having to try hard not to stare.”

“How so?”

“You stare at me all the time. Don’t think I don’t notice it, Berzatto,” you smirk.

Carmy runs a hand through his wet hair, wondering if he should be so bold to respond with what he wants to. Instead, he takes you by surprise and grabs a hold of your hips, his thumbs bruisingly pressing into the fat of them.

“I told you not to trek,” Carmy mutters, his eyes serious but darkening more by the second.

“What if I want to?” you say, testing just how far Carmy would go.

One of his hands wraps around the back of your neck, bringing you close to his face so he can crash his lips onto yours. You find yourself kissing back, your fingers tangling into Carmy’s hair at the nape of his neck. He pushes you against the shower wall, his one hand still holding you by your hip. Carmy slips his tongue inside your mouth, taking more control of the embrace. He takes a moment to run both hands along your sides, pulling your body closer to his. You feel him hard against your stomach.

“Need some help, Berzatto?” you pull away from the kiss, glancing down at Carmy’s length at attention against his toned abdomen, “I’m already trekking far enough, so why not?”

“Only if you let me make dinner after this,” Carmy says.

“Deal,” you shrug.

You reach between your bodies and begin stroking Carmy slowly, to which he lets out a breathy moan. He has thought about this moment far too many times- you grasping him and getting him off. Carmy thrives off your anger toward him, and you thrive off of his, too. It only seems plausible it’d end up like this.

Carmy daringly grasps one of your breasts as you pump your hand along his shaft at a quicker pace, squeezing you and teasing your nipple with his thumb. You hum at the feeling, spreading around the precum on his tip. Carmy’s hand moves from your chest down your stomach and to your heat, where he cups it, hesitant to go any further without permission.

“Don’t get scared on me now,” you look him in the eyes, “I expect something out of this, too. So go ahead.”

Carmy wastes no time dipping a finger into you, wanting to make a dig at you for being so wet already just from touching him, but he refrains. Instead, he adds another finger, using the heel of his hand to press against your clit. He thrusts his fingers inside you, finding a spot that causes you to grip him harshly in response.

“Keep doing that, and we’ll have to fuck,” you whine.

“Don’t threaten me with a good time,” Carmy says, his free hand now carding through your hair, his fingernails grazing your scalp.

You pull Carmy’s fingers from you, replacing them with the head of his cock, “Take this as a promise and not a threat, then.”

Carmy drags himself along your slit before guiding himself inside your entrance, wincing at how tight you are as inch by inch is taken by your needy cunt. Once he’s fully inside you, Carmy boxes you in with his arms, pressing them to the shower wall on either side of your head. You wrap a leg around his waist and brace your hands on his chest as he starts thrusting. Carmy’s eyes bore into yours, drinking in your sounds and facial expressions with every jerk of his hips. You move an inch forward to capture his lips into a heated kiss, moving your body along with every movement of his. You moan pitifully into Carmy’s mouth as he hits a spot inside you that makes stars appear behind your eyelids.

“Do that again,” you say weakly, and Carmy repeats the action except a little harder this time.

“Taking my cock so well that you can’t argue about it, can you?” Carmy says in your ear, “Now I know how to shut you up.”

“I’ll do whatever you want if you keep fucking me like this,” you throw your head back against the wall, your back pressed flush to it as Carmy fucks into you as fast as his hips allow.

“I’ll take you up on that, sweetheart,” Carmy smirks, nibbling your ear playfully.

You feel the familiar tightness in your belly growing, “I’m close.”

Carmy sneaks a hand between you and strokes your clit with his fingers, urging you to cum. You teeter closer to the edge as he presses his fingertips harder on the bundle of nerves, rubbing tight circles. With one particularly angled thrust, you orgasm hard around Carmy, your walls clenching his length pitifully. The feeling of you coming undone then triggers his release, and he fills you up to the brim with a low, guttural moan. The water has since turned cold, and once you unwrap yourself from Carmy, you immediately turn the shower off.

“How about that dinner, Carm?”

Carmy is busy catching his breath but replies, “Sure thing. Just don’t argue about what I’m making, and we’ll be fine.”

You grab your towel, “You make it sound like I argue about everything, which isn't true. Sometimes, it’s you who wants to whine and complain.”

Carmy purses his lips at you, smacking your ass with his towel, “Just be grateful I fucked you and am also making you dinner.”

Once bedtime arrives, the two of you decide not to fight over who gets which bed and opt to share the main one. It’s better than making a fuss. Plus, falling asleep with Carmy’s arms around you was worth all the pent-up tension you had dealt with for so long.

#carmen berzatto #carmen carmy berzatto #carmy berzatto #carmen berzatto x reader #carmen berzatto x reader smut #carmy berzatto x reader #carmy berzatto x reader smut #carmen carmy berzatto x reader #carmen berzatto smut #carmen carmy berzatto x reader smut #carmy berzatto smut #the bear fanfiction #the bear fx #the bear #floralcyanide writes

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im-totally-not-an-alien-2 · 1 year

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Halloween prompts year 2, day 1

Danny had no idea what he was doing. There. He admitted it. He had found a book of spells that reminded him of Sam and stole it on instinct. He didn't have much money after running away. He didn't even have the chance to grab one of his Go Bags as his parents fired on him.

Good news was that ghost powers made it very easy to steal stuff. Now with a book that has actual magic spells in it? He'd never go hungry again! It was kinda weird though. New dimension or not he didn't think a grocery store would sell multiple copies of spellbooks just out in the open like this. They were clearly new and a product or modern manufacturing so it wasn't like it was some ancient relic or anything.

Hmm. A mystery for later then. In the meantime he was going to go around Gotham turning rogues and random jerks into frogs! It went pretty well. There was a mass Arkham breakout not too long ago and Danny was having an absolute blast sneaking up and froggifying people while wearing a cheap glittery devil masquerade mask. Once suitable frogged he trapped them in a magic bubble and left them on the rooftops for the bats to find.

This went awry however when one of the local vigilantes, Robin, tried to attack him from above. On reflex he turned Robin into a frog and freaked out, "Okay. Crud. Okay. I can fix this!" He said while picking up the tiny vigilante, "Just promise not to hurt me and i'll turn you back!"

The angry ribbiting told him that the vigilante would agree to no such thing, "In that case," Danny used his ghost powers to make a human sized ice cage and placed the frog inside. The cages bars were thin but sturdy. It would take Robin only a few good hits to break out of it but by that time the mysterious magic user would have had a head start.

Unfortunately, Danny had just started the spell that would turn Damian back when one of his siblings, Tim, got the jump on him...and got similarly froggy for it. Now there were two frogged bats and a startled magic user.

Danny looked up at the rooftops to see more and more bats staring at him. And the just froggified Red Robin. And the frog version of regular Robin. In a cage. This looked bad. After dodging a batarang Danny apologized to the frogs and quickly yelled, "Not today satan!" At batman before dropping a smoke bomb and teleporting away.

Later at the batcave Damian and Tim were placed in different enclosures to keep their new forms healthy and to prevent any frog on frog violence as they sort this out. At first they thought this was a meta who could turn people into frogs but that was quickly ruled out due to Damian and Tim both typing on devices and telling them about the ice powers.

Thus begins Danny's attempts to find the frogged siblings and turn them back before he gets stabbed by an angry bird and Robin and Red Robins attempts to escape to find this magic user cause it was clear that he had cursed them by accident and had wanted to turn them back right away.

They're family keeps trying to stop them though saying its too dangerous to go out as a frog and they don't know what that magic users intentions were. They didn't really have much choice however seeing at Constantine couldn't help them.

The trench coated brit and said this magic was like nothing he had ever felt before and he would have to do some research. Which lead to the boys swinging across rooftops as amphibians and probably making more than a few people question what was in thier coffee.

#halloween prompts #prompts #fanfiction prompts #dp x dc #danny fenton #danny phantom #tim drake #robin #damian wayne #red robin #yum #magic #danny is going to get caught up in a custody battle isnt he?#adoption bait danny

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aurae-rori · 5 months

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DR RATIO ANALYSIS PT 3 BUT IT'S JUST GAY

Now, you might be saying - "Aurae, you've done part one, and part two, so why do we need a part three?" The answer is because of two things - one. I made a deal with the Tumblr Peoples that if one of my posts hit more than 50 likes I would do this analysis. Two. Mihoyo is making this shit canon. I CAN'T MAKE THIS UP. So, let's delve into my usual disclaimer, as we might have some new people joining us for the first time with my insanity.

I have been researching psychology personally for about six years, so although I am not a professional (crawling my way there through the education system. I will be one, one day.) I do have some experience with analyzing homosexuals. Psychology hours, my children. They don't call me "chronically cooking" for nothing. Maybe I should change my url to that...

NOW THAT MY LONG AHH DISCLAIMER IS OVER, LET'S GET INTO THIS! It's time to deconstruct these homosexuals like a modern airplane, because they might as well be taking off with how canon they are.

"It can't be canon," they say, but then Mihoyo DOES PAID SPONSORSHIPS WITH THESE FUCKERS BEING GAY. We've all seen the paid partnership edit. We've all seen the video where Aventurine has the audio of "nice rack" as he talks to Dr. Ratio. PAID SPONSORSHIPS. Now, if that piece of evidence isn't enough for you - let's dive into their actual relationship, which is just a HOMOSEXUAL MESS. I will be focusing more on how Dr. Ratio sees this guy as this is a Dr. Ratio analysis™, but hey, the crumbs.. we eat 'em all. Amen.

Let's start off (I say as I write this part three days later) about how people are like, 'Aven is Ratio's favourite idiot' WRONG. Ratio does NOT consider Aventurine to be an idiot and knows that he is smart and capable in his own right. While Ratio is book smart, Aven is extremely street smart and holds his own very well. Ratio does not consider Aventurine to be an idiot as he takes off his plaster head around him and actually indulges in his whims around him. This is a blatant showcase of fondness because although he is emotionally constipated and can't be affectionate through words without sounding semi-backhanded because he's never had true affection in his life, he showcases his love through actions rather than words. He's just bad at showing love, okay? But he does love Aven. Or like him, to some extent, if you don't want to see them as romantic, which is fine. However, no matter what you label their bond as, it's obvious that they care for one another.

Also, the fucking ZEST FEST that was 'keeping up with Star Rail'. He says, "wait a minute - MUTUAL?" which indicates that he has respect for Aventurine in the first place. He LITERALLY TOLD US that he respects Aventurine and he was commenting on Aventurine's playstyle & everything.. also, at the end, he was here because 'I appreciate this show's dedication to knowledge' - his TONE. Kudos to the VA because that was not convincing at all. Bro was NOT here for the knowledge, bro was here to be GAY!!! Also his little own bathtub couch. We all know Aven bought it for him. Trust, I am John Hoyoverse.

"The Charming Audacity" HUH? BRO? Okay this is hilarious to me because this is the first time that we ever really see them interact with one another, and we get absolutely bitchslapped in the fact that Dr. Ratio calls this guy's audacity 'charming'. That's GAY. That's HOMOSEXUAL.

Also, comparing him to a peacock.. a very beautiful bird.... Must I say more?

Now, the part that I really want to focus on is the part where he gives the Doctor's Note to Aventurine. This shit is important. And I agree with the people who are like - Acheron helped him. Because she did. She was a big part of it and she helped Aventurine get back on his feet in the void. Dr. Ratio is not his only reason to live, but the note, showing that someone will stay by his side? Showing that someone truly cares for him? Someone who's waiting for him when he get back? This bond that he has with Dr. Ratio isn't fake. He already has a starting point to get back to - an anchor to return to. Dr. Ratio is his anchor. Whenever he goes off to do crazy shit, Veritas Ratio will be there when he returns. Because Ratio is loyal. Ratio cares. He cared enough to almost jeopardize their plan to make sure that Aventurine was going to be okay. He cares so damn much about Aventurine that he decided that this man's emotional state after the fake betrayal was more important than all of fucking Penacony.

If you want an example of "I would let the world burn for you," it's Ratio. He's a romantic not in the traditional sense, but he cares and loves Aventurine so damn much it makes my heart hurt. "Do stay alive," he says, knowing that Aventurine struggles with living. Those three words mean the whole fucking world to someone who struggles with suicidal ideation and suicidal thoughts. Someone wants you to live. Someone wants you to stay. Someone wants you by their side.

Dr. Ratio cares. Let me say that again - he cares. He banters with Aventurine, tries to create an environment where Aventurine can feel a little bit more comfortable with the two of them, even in a place as dangerous as Penacony. He will put his own life on the line for Aventurine.

He cares. He cares so damn much. I hate gay people. They make me VIOLENTLY homophobic.

Dr. Ratio after expressing his care indirectly and complimenting Aventurine indirectly: Did I do it?

Aventurine, who has caught none of the hints:

Anyway, thank you for coming to my Ted Talk.

#aurae analyzes #hsr #aventio #honkai star rail #dr ratio #ratiorine #aventurine #veritas ratio #raturine #golden ratio #aventurine x dr ratio #analysis #character analysis #relationship analysis #these bitches gay #good for them

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scarletwinterxx · 3 months

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but if it's forever, it's even better - joshua hong imagine

helloooo

i will start this off by saying i am down bad for this man right here. ISTG i see him and i'm smiling all stupid like a school girl who has her first crush. i cannot get him off of my mind so yea now we're here😅

if there's one song i would say is written about this guy, it's birds of a feather by billie eilish. i just feel like it's so easy to love him, like you'd be sitting in a diner with him then you'd take one look and think about how you love him so much🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺 okay okay i'm getting carried away😅

it's my first time writing a story outside the nct-verse hahaha but i love it🥺 maybe i'll write more svt scenarios in the future but for now, i hope you enjoy this one🤍

if you want, u can buy me coffee(totally optional but any donation is very much appreciated!) thank you🥺💛

for my other joshua fics, check them here

All works are copyrighted ©scarletwinterxx 2024 . Do not repost, re-write without the permission of author.

(gif not mine, credits to rightful owner)

"Oh my god, you like him"

"What are you talking about?"

"You know we follow each other on spotify right? You've been listening to the same 6 7 songs for days now. It's a playlist isn't it?"

"Where is this conversation going exactly?"

"Who is it? Tell me"

You look at your friend confused. Soonyoung can be random at times, like right now. He just started this topic randomly.

"You like someone, you only make a new playlist when you like someone so who is it?" he asks

"No one, oh my gosh"

Just then the bell hanging by the door chimes, signaling someone just walked in. You didn't look over only to be surprised when someone sat beside Soonyoung,

"Hey guys, sorry I was late. Have you ordered?"

"Hey" you nod over at Joshua, the guy smiling back at you

Soonyoung watches the exchange, looking back and forth between you and your other friend. It's like a lightbulb just lit up in his head.

You can see his expression change, but before he could say anything you kick his leg under the table to stop him

"AH!"

You shoot him a look, meanwhile Joshua stays oblivious to the chaos. He reads the menu, looking for something to order.

"Is the coffee good?" he asks no one in particular

"Yea, she likes it" Soonyoung points at you

"Oh uh yea it's good"

"Okay, I'll go get that. Do you want anything else?"

"I'm good" your other friend answers, then the two look at you

"Me too, thanks Shua" he shoots you another smile before standing up

"Shua? SHUA? You call him Shua???"

"Yea, because that's his name" you roll your eyes, trying to play it cool

"Oh my god, it's him. You like him" he points at you

"Shut it before he comes back"

"You didn't deny it"

You shoot him another look just as Joshua takes the seat beside him again. The three of you hang out to catch up, a little tradition you do with your friends when you have free time. Sometimes, you drive around town or go on an easy hike or set up a picnic.

Sometimes your other friends join you, but today it's just the three of you.

"The sky's getting dark, it'll probably rain soon" You say while looking out the window, the two guys following your gaze

"Oh yea, we should go. Hey Joshua, can you drive her home? I have a thing I have to drive by before going home"

"Yea no problem" ever the gentleman, Joshua agrees with a smile. The three of you walk out the cafe, saying goodbye to Soonyoung as he walks over to his car. You catch him mouthing something a long the lines of "you're welcome". Probably trying to play cupid between you and Joshua.

The two of you also walk to his car, a hand behind the small of your back to guide you. Even though the ground is flat concrete, you feel like you're going to trip just thinking about how close he is.

Joshua opens the door for you, holding a hand over your head as you get in. You're not even close to hitting the roof of the car, but still, he does it because he is the epitome of 'gentleman'. He waits for you to settle in before closing the door and jogging over the driver's side.

When he gets in the car, he puts the keys in and turn the engine on. Putting one hand behind your seat as he maneuver out of the parking lot.

You can feel your cheeks get warm, it's nothing special but you had to admit he looks so good while doing such a mundane thing.

Joshua looks over at you and notices the blush on your cheeks.

"You okay, baby?"

"Shut up"

He laughs louder, his hand finding yours and intertwining your fingers together.

"Soonyoung thinks I have a crush on you?"

"Does he?"

"Mhm, been listening to the playlist you made me. He said I only ever make a playlist when I like someone" you tell him, you see the smile forming on his pretty lips you had to stop your self from leaning over to steal a kiss from your boyfriend.

"I mean, he's not wrong. You made me one before"

"Yea like before we dated, now you do it too"

It was how you confessed to him, too shy to say you like him to his face so you did it through songs. You thought he didn't get the message you were trying to send over because he didn't say anything to you after you sent the playlist.

You really thought he really didn't see anything other than a friend until one night while hanging out he started to play one of the songs on his guitar. It was during a party, surrounded by all your friends, with people having their own conversations all around you.

And yet your attention was on him, listening to each note he's playing.

"When will we tell him?" Joshua asks you

"Let him figure it out on his own. It's kind of fun to see him get excited over it, it's like we have a fan rooting for us"

"What if I kiss you in front if him"

"You wouldn't dare, Joshua Hong" he smirks when he heard his full name, sparing you a quick glance. He waits until the light turned red before turning over to you, a hand behind your head to pull you closer to him then he's crashing your lips against him.

His lips moving against yours in sync. Like a routine he worked hard on memorizing, he knows just how to get you chasing after his lips asking for a few more kisses. Each one taking your breath like it's the first kiss.

He's the one to break away first (even though he didn't want to, but you're in middle of the road), he kisses your nose before going back to his seat. His hand goes back to holding yours, like back to normal. Like he didn't just kiss the breath out of you.

Joshua smirks when he looks over at you, looking at him with round eyes he loves so much.

The traffic light is still red but you don't dare to tease your boyfriend again because you know he won't hesitate to do it again and then some.

"Hey, I love you" he squeezes your hand, making you look over at him

"I know" you jokingly reply, then you lean over to give him a peck on the cheek.

"Let's sit together next hang out and pretend to secretly like each other" you say, "Easy, I already look like I like you" he say

"No kisses though, have to take me out first"

"We'll call it a date then"

#fic #svt #seventeen #svt joshua #seventeen joshua #svt x reader #svt imagines #svt au #svt fluff #svt reads #joshua hong #joshua imagine #joshua fic #joshua boyfriend #joshua fluff #joshua scenario

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clubdionysus · 4 months

Text

[BAD DECISION #23] Cherry Picking

warnings: ohhhhh we have arrived!! okay! a lil (not so) dry hump, bird manipulation!!, panty sniffing!! panties in mouth??, titty sucking, fingering, oral (f receiving), jungkooks nose <3, kissing !!! oh god the loveliest of kisses!!! unprotected sex, 'baby', cum on tits, jk cleans her up with his tongue! a gentleman! over stimulation, squirting, (just friendly tho!!)

soundtrack: diamonds - luke hemmings, finally // beautiful stranger - halsey, ruin the friendship - demi lovato

a/n: just two updates tonight as it cuts off at the perfect place!

wc: 15k

bd total wc: 540k (ongoing)

AO3 | MASTERLIST | MINORS DNI

"They'll be wondering where you are," you say quietly, as the door behind you clicks shut. There's a slight rustle - the synthetic material of your padded jacket rubbing against itself - when Jeongguk comes to stand behind you, before he drapes it over your shoulders.

"Shouldn't start the New Year with a cold," he simply states stepping over the stone bench to sit down beside you. It's cold beneath his body, but he's got his coat on too. You've a hand warmer in each pocket, so pass one over to him. "Thanks."

"I mean it, Gguk," you double down, voice soft. "It's nearly time."

He just shrugs. Looks up to the sky.

You're in the tiny courtyard that's attached to the staffroom; Jeongguk's secret hiding spot for when he needs to escape from the chaos of Dionysus. There are some sheets of plywood in the corner that Jeongguk needs to take over to Yoongi's studio, but he's still putting off the expansions his boss wants doing. Doesn't want to lose his little sanctuary just yet.

It feels like he's losing more and more comforts day by day.

His final university deadlines are approaching, and he's gonna have to decide if he stays comfortable or does something far more terrifying a lot sooner than he's really ready for.

Change can be daunting, so he's choosing to keep things as they are as much as he can. Feels safer that way. The curse of Jeon Jeongguk is his ability to let his fears control his life. He's always been this way. Fears he always will be. The irony isn't lost on him.

"They'll be wondering where you are, too," he says. Thinks that Danbi must be running around like a headless chicken trying to find you - but also knows she was holding Tae's hand as she was glancing around before he left, so maybe she'll be a bit distracted. Thinks it's about time. Tae's been looking at her like a lovesick pup for weeks, now. Months, even.

"Jiyeong-" You begin, but are cut off by Jeongguk.

He doesn't want to talk about her. Doesn't wanna have to explain what happened, because it feels embarrassing and bothersome. Pity looks so pretty on your features, but he doesn't want to be the recipient of such a gentle look.

"-Isn't gonna be a part of next year," he says. Though his tone isn't stern, it is incredibly final .

You bring your gaze down from the skies, and rest your chin on your shoulder to look at Jeongguk. His eyes are still searching for stars - the light pollution proves to make it impossible - chin tilted upward, dewy nose to the sky. His skin is beginning to blush from the cold. His lips are thin; folded in on themselves, lip ring shining ever so daintily as it flips in the corner of his mouth.

You've missed watching his piercing do the thing. When you've as much alcohol in your system as you do, you find it makes your tummy flip, too. It's silly of your body to behave like that. Drunk or not, Jeongguk is still just Jeongguk.

From the club, you can hear the echoes of a chant. The countdown has begun. If you ask questions now, he'll just brush them off.

You're a little too tipsy to really comprehend what he means, either way.

"We should go back inside," you whisper, eyes still on him, your chin denting down into the thick padding of your coat. You always think you look like an emo Michelin baby whenever you wear it. If Jeongguk heard the comparison, he'd laugh. Would agree.

When he turns to look at you, he barely notices the coat. Just thinks you look cosy. Is pleased to find the stars right here on Earth, instead.

"Won't make it in time," he says.

"Could try?"

"Why bother?"

"'Cause you should be around people who care about you when it hits twelve," you say, a little pout on your lips. He's being difficult.

And then he just shrugs. Knocks into your shoulder. Smiles. "Are we not already?"

There's silence for a moment. Just a second.

The sky above you both begins to sparkle; greens and blues erupting where darkness once was. They scatter into the night; pinks and yellows spiralling just like your mind so often does whenever Jeongguk speaks in riddles.

You're aware that the fireworks are deafening, but you're oblivious to the sound. All you can hear is the beating of your own heart. The explosions shimmer in Jeongguk's eyes, but it's still only stars you can see in them.

"Happy New Year," Jeongguk says quietly. Smiles tenderly. Fills you with a warmth that the frigid winter night had previously stolen. He doesn't look at your lips. Makes no indication that he's thinking about a New Year's kiss.

There are a dozen girls in that room who'd have jumped at the chance to lock lips with him, even if just for a moment as the bells rang out, and yet he's chosen to be with you.

He could have been with Hayun.

And yet he's chosen to be with you.

"Happy New Year," you smile right back. The exchange is soft, like mid-winter snow; warm like a breeze on a summer's day. Secure like a three-pin-padlock; secret, like the code written in the back of an old notebook.

"Hey, B?" He says quietly, eyes still on yours. The sky flashes a myriad of colours. They rain down on him; paint him better than Picasso ever could.

"Mhmm?"

He grins. You think his lip ring looks so pretty. Teeth, too. Pearly and perfectly proportioned for him.

"Stop looking at my lips," he teases. "Gonna make me think you wanna kiss me."

A gasp escapes your lips. You look away. Cover your mouth. Can't believe how fucking obvious you must have been.

"I was just..." you begin to excuse yourself, but then laugh. Choose honesty. "I was actually just thinking about the fact you missed out on a New Years Kiss."

Jeongguk shrugs in that boyish way he so often does, as if he has no care for the arbitrary realities of life. C'est la vie . He looks up to the skies, and lets his smile linger as the illuminations paint the midnight skies.

"Got all year for kisses, B. Only one chance to see the New Year in with my best friend."

And maybe it's because you've been rattled by Hayun, or maybe it's because he's one of the only good things to have come out of the past year, but hearing him claim you as his best friend makes you feel like a weight has been lifted.

"Best friend?" You question, just to make sure.

He nods. "Best friend."

It's laughable, really, how those two words take aim at the arrows shot by Hayun, and knocks them off course before they can really implode on your heart. Just a surface scratch, now. That's all.

"What about Jimin?"

Jeongguk tilts his head to the side. Considers it. "Family."

You're pleased to hear the conclusion of his consideration. You've a shared history with Jimin that could make things awkward between the three of you, and yet you all chalk it up to dumb drunk choices. Aren't the first you've ever made. Won't be the last.

"Be weird if I said you were like family, too," Jeongguk adds - then feels the need to clarify, even though he totally doesn't. "Fucked you. Would make for weird family gatherings."

You laugh. Nod. "Yeah. Probably best you don't ever tell girls I'm like a sister or anything like that," you muse.

He laughs, too, but doesn't say anything. Thinks of Hayun, and how he knows you had definitely had a spat with her before you left. Wants to know what was said. Knows it will be about him. Doesn't want to sour your mood. Is quite conflicted.

Luckily for him, your mind works in a similar way, and your filter is next to non-existent when you've had as many drinks as you have.

"I thought Hayun was your best friend."

Jeongguk looks over to you, his eyes a little hard, brows pinching above his nose. You don't look at him. The fireworks are dwindling, now.

"Friendships change," he admits candidly.

Won't tell you how the second he heard someone asking for star fuckers, he assumed it was you .

Won't tell you how he recited lines - already said to you - to her, because he wasn't comfortable enough in her presence to let his brain think of anything original. Went for something safe. Went for something nurtured with you.

Won't tell you how much the way you've subtly distracted him - with glitter and nonsensical conversations - throughout the night has helped him get his head straight.

Won't tell you how watching you leave felt like a sucker punch to the chest.

Won't tell you that he didn't even consider going over to his friends, because in that moment he was furious with the fact Hayun had made you want to leave so close to midnight. He likes to think it wasn't intentional, but celebrating with her while you would have been alone? Didn't seem like something worth celebrating at all.

If he hadn't been distracted (as always) by your disco ball eyes, and the way light shines from your very being, he never would have known you were speaking with her. Never would have seen her do that thing with her eyes - the cold, vacant, roll of them he used to know so well - that he hated so much. Never would have realised you were leaving.

You'd have spent New Year's by yourself, away from the people who love you, cold and quiet.

And it would have been her fault.

Mentally, he excuses her bad behaviour; tells himself it's probably a mix of alcohol and someone new taking her place that made her hostile.

But when he looks at you, and acknowledges the sadness that imposes on your features, the guilt creeps in. He blames himself . If he'd have introduced you two, maybe it would have gone differently. If Jiyeong hadn't been so rude to her, maybe Hayun wouldn't have been so malevolent with you.

Absolving Hayun of blame is something Jeongguk's been doing for years. Patterns of behaviour are easy to acknowledge; difficult to end.

He's trying. He's here. That counts for something.

You think Jeongguk is right. Friendships do change. You're scared that Hayun's presence will change yours.

"When do you clock off?" You ask, instead of venturing any further down the road of a topic you don't think will benefit either of you.

Jeongguk raises his wrist - the one without his watch on it - and hums. Pretends to read it. Makes you giggle.

"About five minutes ago."

The skies have settled once more. The only stars he can see are ones in his peripherals; the specks of glitter on his skin, and the girl beside him.

The chill of a winter freeze is sobering you up. You know that you probably can't walk straight, but you can think straight, and that's absolutely outrageous, as far as you're concerned. The night is still young and - as Jimin said - so are you. The heaviness in your heart is ageing you. You don't care for it.

"Starfuckers?" you propose - and the way Jeongguk smiles has you wishing you'd asked earlier.

"Thought you'd never ask," he grins, but catches himself.

Decides he needs to give you a little context on Jiyeong before continuing the night, 'cause he doesn't wanna talk about it when he's a few shots too deep to be sensible about things.

"Jiyeong gets really... argumentative when she drinks."

His slow speech makes it evident how careful he's trying to be. You know what it really means. Knows she must have said something awful for him to be mentioning it now.

"Was it bad?" you ask, a little clueless, and hating it.

Jeongguk nods. Bites the bullet. Doesn't look at you as he says, "She threw a drink on me."

"She what?!"

Jeongguk smirks, not because he finds it funny, but because he finds it awkward. Rolls his eyes, and shakes his head. "Was at the bar. Fucking mortifying ."

You study his face, looking for signs you might have missed.

"Where did she get you?" You ask, but realise as soon as your question finishes. You gasp again. Can't believe you hadn't thought to ask earlier. "The outfit change?!"

He confirms your suspicions. "Anyways, I'm sort of... done with her."

His hesitation is genuine, not because he's unsure of his choice, just because he's still worried about letting you down.

To his surprise, you're the one apologising.

The weight in your chest when he admits that he doesn't want to be with her is catastrophic. You thought you had picked well for him. You really thought maybe you'd helped him. You feel like the failure.

"Gguk, if I'd have known she was like that, I never would have set things up. I'm so so sorry. You didn't deserve that whatsoever."

"Not your fault," he says, offering you a sincere smile. "Just the way the cookie crumbles sometimes."

He's downplaying it, and you both know it. He doesn't want to talk about it though, so you won't push. Not now. Another time, yes.

Thing is, neither of you are at fault. C'est la vie.

"You know how many stars there are?" You ask, in a bid to change the subject to something a little easier to digest.

Jeongguk shakes his head. "Not a clue, B."

"Oh," you say quietly. "Thought you might. Always mumbling stuff about the stars, you are."

He smiles to himself. Thinks it's hardly a surprise.

Deflects, and asks, "You know much about manure?"

"What?" You chirp, then laugh. What a bizarre question. "No?"

"Oh," he hums, mimicking you. "Thought you might. Always chatting shit."

You tell him to fuck off, so he gets to his feet - but holds his hand out for you.

"C'mon," he knocks his head to the side. "Let's go get fucked up."

It's quarter past twelve by the time you make it back to your friends, Jeongguk double fisting drinks 'cause he's so far behind everyone else and needs to get fucked up.

It doesn't take much - four double dark rum and cokes, three purple starfuckers - for him to be doing the robot in a strange sort of avant-garde dance battle with Hobi and Jimin. You're not really sure what you're looking at as Jeongguk moves his body in a way you never need to see him move his body - but you find it hilarious. He's both smooth and awkward in his movements. None of it quite makes sense.

You smile through it all. Endlessly. Affectionately. Adoringly.

And then you're laughing, too.

Might just be the vodka. Might be the nerves of Hayun's eyes being on you. Most likely, it's because Jeongguk looks ridiculous. So sexy in one moment, and so goofy in the next.

You never know what's coming next. He almost stumbles over to you as you nurse on a drink by the sofas. Regains his balance. Tries to play it cool. Is suave as he says, "you good down there, B?" - but then he sinks down into the sofa beside you, a silly grin on his rum-drunk lips. You find that you'd welcome all his surprises, good or bad.

He hiccups. Scolds himself. Asks you how you are. Hiccups again. Listens as you tell him to hold his breath. Hiccups as he's doing it. Gives up. Hiccups freely.

He's still got a drink in his hand, so you take it from him and have a sip or two. He doesn't protest. Rabbits on about something neither of you will remember in the morning. The club lights hit him in all the right places, making his glittered cheekbones appear even more majestic than they already were.

"More glitter," you muse. "You need more glitter."

"Y'know," he slurs, looking all very poised and serious, a finger pointing as he speaks. "I was thinking the exact same thing."

He chats absolute shit while you dapple his cheeks with more pretty sparkles. They match his eyes, now.

You've managed to avoid Hayun since returning, and you're secretly pleased that Jeongguk has done the same.

Aside from a few awkward glances when you both arrived back to greet your friends, he's deliberately steered clear. Wants an orderly mind before they speak again.

He's still disgruntled by the fact you found her so intolerable you were willing to spend New Year alone just to not be near her. Trusts you. Trusts your judgement (even if you did set him up with Jiyeong). Trusts you always see the good in people, but knows you struggled to see the good in her.

Thinks maybe life would have been easier if he met you first.

Hayun over by the bar with Nabi and Tae. They seem to be her closest friends amongst the circle. Yoongi didn't say a single word to her all night, but Seoyeon was pretty friendly with her.

They left just after midnight, and were gone by the time you and Jeongguk returned from the courtyard. Namjoon's working the early shift tomorrow - "the news isn't gonna write itself" - so he'd dipped with them, too.

Like Yoongi, Jimin gives Hayun the cold shoulder. It's expected, given how close he is to Jeongguk.

You're unaware of the fact that she and Jimin go way back. Knew each other as kids. If anyone should have still been pally with her, it would be him - but he's the only one who knows how much Jeongguk suffered because of her. He knows the situation almost as well as he knows the plotline for The Notebook, and considering that it's his go-to hangover movie (while also considering how often he's hungover), it's safe to say he's got a decent understanding of it.

Jimin will never be on Hayun's side. He told her years ago that this would be the consequence of her dicking Jeongguk around, and is a man of his word when it comes to his friends. Used to really eat him up, how easily she let go of their friendship. Counts it as a blessing, now.

As he stands by the bar and notices what's going on with you, Jeongguk and a tube of liquid glitter, he smiles. Doesn't have a clue what happened with Jiyeong. Doesn't care. Really couldn't give a shit for any other girl in Jeongguk's life. Is just glad he has you.

You've been good for him.

"What's going on with them?" Hayun asks as she joins him at the bar. Is a little annoyed Jeongguk has been so... avoidant. It's a change to the norm. Jeongguk doesn't do change. Something feels... off.

Jimin's smile fades. She still tries to be his friend. It annoys him. "Nothing."

She laughs. It's insincere.

"I've got a pair of eyes, Jimin. He's sat there like a lovesick puppy while some girl covers him in fucking glitter," she sneers.

"So? Your point?"

"It's fucking weird."

Jimin rolls his eyes. Exhales a deep sigh. "You've not been here, Hayun. You can't come back and decide that everything is awful just because it isn't the way you left it. Life's moved on. You should try it, sometime."

"That's not it," she says.

"So what is it?" Jimin questions. He doesn't really want to be having this conversation, but everyone's fucked. He thinks he'd rather know if she's up to no good. Might not remember it in the morning, but at least he'll know now.

"He's changed."

"He's happy," Jimin says bluntly. "That's what's changed."

"She's not his girlfriend," Hayun states.

Jimin knows about Jeongguk's desire to call things off with Jiyeong. Doesn't know about the fact he kind of already has. Also doesn't think it's his place to air Jeongguk's dirty laundry, so he says the safest thing he can.

"Nor is Jiyeong, if that's what you're getting at. Not sure if you remember, but Gguk has a hard time saying no to girls who treat him like shit," he says with a little venom. "His relationships are frankly none of your business. You revoked rights to that sort of information years ago."

"I'm just concerned," she says - and she sounds like she actually means it. Jimin doesn't buy it for a second, but lets her talk. "I used to know him better than anyone. It's like looking at a stranger, now."

"And who's fault is that?" Jimin snaps, but either Hayun is too drunk to really notice or too narcissistic to actually care.

Instead of actually responding, Hayun muses aloud. "All of it...the glitter, the puppy dog eyes... her attitude problem... It all just screams quarter-life crisis."

She's unaware that your glitter session ended a few minutes ago. Is unaware that you've dashed to the staff room to put your phone on charge. Is unaware that you'd sent Jeongguk on the hunt for more drinks.

Doesn't realise until Yeonjun flashes a grin, and says, "fuckin' hell. Shoulda put a bet on you morphing into Disco Ball."

Jeongguk smirks, resting his palms on the bar. He is, admittedly, DB2.0 at this point. There's glitter in his hair . "Starfuckers?"

"Trust me to make them?" Yeonjun checks - not that Jeongguk is stepping a foot behind the bar, not when he's as trashed as he is. The palms resting on the bar aren't just because he knows he looks good - it's because he needs to steady himself.

He nods. Taps Jimin on shoulder. "Starfucker?"

"Stupid question."

"I think the word you were looking for is 'yes'," Jeongguk grins, turning his attention back to Yeonjun. "Three, please, mate."

Hayun doesn't hide the smile on her face. Some things, apparently, don't change. She likes Jeongguk when you aren't around.

"Hey, buddy," she smiles in that way she always did when she'd been up to no good and wanted him on her side again.

Jeongguk is silent. Isn't smiling. Doesn't look at her. Just simply says: "Careful, Hayun."

"Hmm?" she questions, wondering what on earth she needs to watch out for. The bar's nearly empty, now.

"Watch your mouth when you're chatting shit," he says dryly, his voice just as flat as his eyes are vacant. "You never know who's listening."

Yeonjun can't help but smirk. Has been watching Jeongguk's entire life blow up right in front of his very eyes all night, and it just never ceases to surprise him. Has no idea who this bitch is in front of him, but the way Jeongguk looks like he wants to chew her up and spit her out? Oh, he is living for it.

He pours the shots. Decides the bar needs a good wipe-down. Stays close just to listen in.

Is surprised when he hears Jeongguk mention you by name. Had almost forgotten you actually have one. Is so used to calling you Disco Ball.

Admittedly, he thinks there's a tenderness to the way Jeongguk says your name. Thinks it's really fuckin' sweet.

He says your name, knocks back his shot, then says, "I dunno what you said to her earlier, but you were outta line. She's our friend." He passes the next shot over to Jimin. Finally looks down at Hayun. Is surprised when it doesn't hurt like he half thinks it should. He's never spoken to her like this before. "So play nicely, and keep her name out your mouth unless you're telling her how pretty her glitter looks."

Hayun thinks Jeongguk's gone absolutely clinically insane.

Yeonjun thinks this is brilliant .

From the corner of his eye, Jeongguk notices the staff room door open and close, so he picks up the spare shot that Hayun mistakenly thought was hers. As you approach, glittery and gorgeous like always, he holds it out for you to take.

"Oh, you star. Thank you," you beam, accepting it without a second thought. You ignore Hayun.

"Charging?" Jeongguk asks, just to make sure the dodgy wire in the staff room is working. You nod, and assure him it's fine. "Dancefloor?"

Again, you nod. "Please."

Yeonjun thinks he's gonna watch the security cameras back later just to see all of that unfold again. He's never seen a face look so much like a slapped arse, but Hayun? Offt . She's going through it.

"Y'know, maybe he has changed," Jimin smirks. "Ain't that a blessing."

Hayun is silent. Jeongguk has never spoken to her like that. Ever. Not even when they were fighting. The life she's returned to no longer has space for her, or so it feels like.

You're too drunk to care. Decide that you're better off pretending like she doesn't exist. You derive no joy from her existence, and think that this year you should only do things that make you happy.

When Jeongguk forces you to dance with him? You're happy.

When he yawns, and starts talking about kebabs? You're happy.

When he holds your hand and drunkenly traipses down the clubbing district to the kebab place he swears down laces their fries with crack? You're happy.

Happy when Jeongguk insists you walk instead of catching a cab, happy when he offers you a piggyback, happy when he doesn't put you down, not even in the elevator of his apartment complex.

Doesn't put you down until you're both sat on the floor between his kitchen area and sitting room. The lights are off, but early morning is breaking; the city intruding on your privacy.

Your hair is so long now, he thinks. How long has he known you? He can't remember. But it was short when you first met. Just above your shoulders. Now, it finishes midway down your chest. You're not the same person as you were back then, and nor is he.

It's a realisation; he's still learning about you. If somebody had asked him even a day ago how quickly your hair grows, he wouldn't have had an answer. Had never noticed. Knows your roots need doing, but he likes them so never comments on them.

Jeongguk knows you so well, and yet not at all.

He knows your favourite drink in a dive bar, but doesn't know what you'd get at bottomless brunch with the girls. Knows that you demolish Psy's It's Art in a noraebang, but has no idea what your favourite song is. Knows so much and yet knows nothing at all.

Knows your fears; doesn't know your hopes.

The realisation upsets him.

And so he asks. Lets you drunkenly natter on about your childhood dreams; plays the band you said soundtracked your childhood from his phone. It's set on the floor a little bit away from you. He chooses not to play it through a proper speaker. There's an intimacy to this. Thinks it's important you keep this shit analogue.

There's a dozen birds above Jeongguk's bed that outline the a-z of your intimacy textbook, but none of them include this.

None of them mentions talking about your childhood pet, and watching Jeongguk's pretty little smile appear on his scrunched-up face as he enthuses over puppy pictures.

Not a single bird includes candid admittance of times you threatened to run away from your family home as a teenager; nor do they include the way the Jeongguk asks about your escape plans, and tells you how you definitely could have done it.

There are no birds that tell you to bare your soul, and yet, you do.

Jeongguk is so kind with it. Accepts it graciously, and touches it with tender hands; places it down beside his own, and finds you fit perfectly in the empty space.

He finds himself nervous. Not in the lip-biting, ring-flipping, unsure eyes kind of way you're used to seeing him in, well, any uncomfortable situation; but in a different way entirely.

He worries that the night will end. Is concerned that you'll leave, and that things will be cemented in this awkwardly 'okay' stalemate.

He knows more about you than he did a few hours ago; has learned itsy bitsy tales of childhood and saw your face cringe as he scoured your mum's facebook page for pictures of your teenage haircut that you swore was cool at the time (not that his mother's kitchen scissor bowl cut was much better).

You've an idea of the layout of his family home, thanks to an overly explained prank that he says he pulled on his brother, which you also learn resulted in no eyebrows for either of them (another thing to thank his mother for ( "a punishment to match the crime" is how Jeongguk phrased it as he mindlessly stroked over his since-recovered brows)).

These aren't little things to know about one another. They're candid revelations packaged in awkward smiles and tied with liquor-laced ribbons.

Little presents, squirrelled away in each of your minds; reminders that the most intimate we can be with another person is when we're fully clothed.

Foolish of you not to consider that. C'est la vie.

That's what Jeongguk worries about. He worries that you'll leave, and the physical intimacy won't have matched the emotional intimacy and it will fuck with your head. Will have you ignoring him, or avoiding him.

You don't say anything, but as you watch him get to grips with a karaoke mic by the sofa, a song about makgeolli playing in the background, his giggles echoing into the speaker system, you don't ever want to avoid him again. Hated the time spent keeping a distance. Life is so much better when he's around.

He encourages you up, and forces you to dance with him like a pair of lunatics to an old Psy song. It's one of the ones Psy would always sing at his university campus shows, and when you mention this, Jeongguk cannot fathom the fact you've seen him live . Forces you to find it on youtube. Tries to find you in the crowd - but it's like a game of where's wally.

Eventually, he gives up. Says he's found you. Points to the mirror in the corner of the room - and when you look over and see the pair of you as you are, you decide that maybe bad decisions would be a good idea.

Glitter speckled, you're both messes. Still in your club clothes, there's something funny about the way your hair is in a lopsided bun on top of your head, his hair kind of all over the place. You'd be forgiven for thinking the pair of you had been at it - when in reality, all you'd been doing was singing your hearts out in a make-shift home noraebang.

You're busy laughing, toying with his little tufts of hair that stick out on end when his front door beeps, Jimin finally entering the code to return home. Dawn is breaking, and you're surprised that he's alone. He's busy chewing on a sotteok sotteok stick - mini sausages and rice cakes threaded onto a wooden skewer - to pay you much attention. The spicy sauce drips into the container he's holding, which you both recognise to be from the convenience store down the road.

"Here he is," Jeongguk teases, as Jimin casts his housemate a small grin.

He's pissed - still drunk as a skunk - and slurs his words as he goes to speak. "There's a disco ball in our living room."

"It's not a party worth having if you don't have a disco ball," you assure him, to which he lets you know that it's not a party if there are only two people.

"When there's two," he mumbles through a mouthful of tteok, waving the half-empty stick in the air. "That's not a party."

"So what is it?" Jeongguk asks.

The way Jimin smiles before he starts talking makes Jeongguk regret ever asking.

"A couple."

Jeongguk shoos him away. Tells him he needs a good night's sleep before he inevitably watches The Notebook tomorrow morning, like he always does whenever he wakes up alone with a hangover. A depressing way to start the year, you think.

"DB, you like Gosling?" Jimin says, in his pants and t-shirt now, sitting on the floor. He's holding a glass of water like it's a sippy cup. You cannot believe you've had sex with him. Twice. "Wanna watch?"

"Prefer Reynolds," you say of the famous Ryan's.

Jeongguk squeezes your knee. Smiles. Remembers the Deadpool marathons with you and Danbi. Likes how much you've both integrated into one another's lives.

This is just reality now.

And for the first time in a long time, Jeongguk realises just how lucky he really is. His life may not be grand, and it may not be written about in history books; but it's a fulfilled life. He's happy.

Jimin falls asleep on the living room floor. Is dragged into his room by Jeongguk. Won't remember any of it in the morning.

When Jeongguk finally retires to his room, you're poking around at the birds on his desk.

"I missed some?"

He nods. Sits on the edge of his bed, legs spread, leaning back to rest on his elbows. He's tired. Doesn't wanna sleep. Has missed you too much. "Fell a couple of weeks ago."

You pout. "I've missed the kids."

Jeongguk is soft as he says, "they missed you, too."

Looking at you now as you scan his room, party dress sparkling as the early morning sun intrudes on his room, he struggles to remember what life was like before he knew you.

And then he wonders if he'll ever forget what it felt like to fuck you.

He doesn't mean to think about you improperly - he's just in that god-awful state of post-drinking pleasure-seeking.

He's not even gonna deny it. He wants you.

There's a dilemma that comes with Jeongguk's desire: morals.

He's not sure how drunk Jiyeong was. Isn't sure how intentional she was with her threats. Doesn't know if she'll remember what she did, or if she'll even realise Jeongguk called it quits when she wakes up the next morning.

If he were to check his phone, he'd see that one of the personal trainers from the gym had tagged him in an insta story with the caption 'come get your girl, bro', and said girl necking on with some guy Jeongguk wouldn't be able to pick out from a crowd.

He doesn't check his phone, though. Regardless of everything, he was never her boyfriend. The way she treated him is exactly why he never asked. She burnt her bridges time and time again. Jeongguk doesn't care to rebuild them again, not when she never lends a hand.

It's not that he wants to be cruel. It's not that he never cared. Nothing like that at all.

But he is drunk, and he is single, and fuck it's so nice to be around someone that makes him feel as lovely as you do.

When he holds out his hands, you gravitate towards him. Stand between his legs. Look down at his pretty face, hands delicate beneath his jaw.

Jeon Jeongguk is gonna ruin your life, you think.

As his hands stoke up your bare thighs, and encourages you onto his lap without a single word?

Life, ruined. You're certain.

The way you do whatever he asks of you has you considering that maybe your life isn't even yours anymore. His. All his.

You know you shouldn't entertain this. The Jiyeong shit is too fresh. Hayun, too - but that only encourages you. You have what she wants. You'd like to keep it that way.

His grip on your waist is tight as he pulls you up his lap, the thick ridge of his bulge beneath you perfectly positioned to rut up against you.

There's hesitation to your movements; delicacy.

His are the opposite. Decisive. He knows what he wants - and as he uses his grip to push you further down onto his crotch, your soft whimpers let him know that you want it, too.

"Gguk," you whisper, heart beating so fast you're scared it might short circuit. He nudges his nose against yours. Nods. Could kiss you, if he wasn't behaving himself.

It's laughable, really, how he's humping himself up against you, and considers it 'good' because he isn't kissing you.

Your voice is barely audible when you say, "I hate my rules."

Jeongguk's jaw tenses. His eyes close, nostrils a little flared as he tries to control his breathing. Nudges his nose a little deeper against yours.

"Me too, B."

He despises them. Loathes them. Will never break them. No matter how hard is cock is and how difficult it is to think straight when he's suffocated by your hair. They're yours to break. Yours alone.

So while the admission makes him needy - gets him squeezing at your soft flesh, body grinding a little faster - he keeps his lips away. Kind of. There's a very small gap for you to close.

You could do it.

Could sink your lips down onto his, and experience what it's like to feel his moans vibrate into your mouth. Could let his tongue lick against yours. Could hold his jaw, lips hard and deliberate as they press against each other.

Could do a million little things. Your nipples are hard just from the thought of it all, and your thin lace bra hides nothing. Nor does your dress.

Jeongguk can feel them against his chest. Can't stop himself from tightly squeezing at them, his thumbs settling over your hardened bud. He rubs against them, knowing just how sensitive they are, even through your clothes, and is pleased when your breathing starts to get heavier.

A moan gets trapped in your throat, nails scratching against the nape of his neck. You're matching his movement, hips grinding against him.

You wonder how long it's been since he used someone else to relieve him. Find yourself worried it hasn't been long enough. Don't want him thinking about her while he's with you. It's not like you can control his mind, but then again, you're unaware of the catastrophic hold you have on him.

He takes a second to scan your eyes, and as much as you want to hold his gaze, you're distracted by his glitter. His cheeks, the rogue specks on his nose, his jaw... along the indent of his cupid's bow.

Jeongguk has enough experience with glitter-induced mindlessness, so knows that's what's happening - but he wants to check that you still want this. Still want him . It's been a while, and he knows the fact he'd been with someone else could hinder your desire for him.

Funny. He's not thinking about the fact you hooked up with Jimin at all. Couldn't give a shit about that.

All he can think about you, and your wants, your needs. Brushes a strand of hair away from your face, as he says, "if this is too weird, we can stop."

But you just shake your head, a soft smile on your pouty lips. He licks across his own.

"I've missed you," you admit all rather foolishly. Laugh, then cover your face with your hands. Jeongguk likes the rings you're wearing. Always the same three. Thin and dainty, they're as much a part of you as your glitter is.

His fingers wrap around your wrists, as he pulls them down. There's a little resistance from you, but eventually, you concede. Look at him a little helplessly, but are pleased to see him smiling.

"Missed you, too."

When you chirp a small hum in reply, Jeongguk laughs. Holds your waist again, stroking your sides ever so tenderly. Reassures you. "Of course I have. You know how much I like having you like this."

You narrow your eyes now, but it's playful. Feign a little offence, just to keep him smiling. "Have me like what exactly, Jeon?"

He rolls his eyes, but just pushes the hair that's covering your neck away from you. Leans a little closer, and presses a kiss into your skin. The contact of his lips, a little wet and torturously firm, has you sighing, hips pulling up. He encourages this. Grips onto your waist a little tighter. Pushes you down onto his crotch. Lets himself grind up against you once, twice, then husks against your neck, "Like this, B. Like you wanna get that pretty pussy of yours all messy for me."

He pulls back. Holds you tightly in place over his cock, of which he knows is embarrassingly hard. Sometimes he thinks all you have to do is glance in his direction to get him like this.

The way you're looking at him - eyes all wide, lips parted ever so slightly - gets his hips pulsing again ever so gently. Your body moves with his, the sensation of his hardness beneath you making you feel a way that could only be compared to Nirvana.

You're the one who pulls him closer, now, a hand cradling his jaw, the other sinking into his hair. It's a control thing. Want him close, but can also pull him away. It excites him. Always does whenever you take the reins back from him.

As your grip tightens in his hair, his breathing shallows. Nose nudging against his, you know you're a little too close. Know you're being mean. Know how much he must be dying to close the gap, 'cause you are too.

"I do," you whisper back. "It's already messy."

"Hmm?" he moans an incoherent reply. Has his lips firmly pressed shut, cause he doesn't trust himself. Has closed his eyes, too. Can't risk it.

"Mhmm," you murmur back. "So messy, Koo."

The way you soften the sound of his name has him desperate to fuck himself into you. You're so soft, and tender, and everything he's been missing.

"For me?" He asks, because formulating words is the only way he can stay focused - but even that's failing him, now.

"All for you."

His cock throbs beneath you. He knows he must be messy, too, precum pooling from the tiny slit at the very tip of his cock. Hates that he's trapped in his clothes, but loves the idea of slowly getting you out of yours.

"All mine," he smiles to himself, lost in the way he feels. You nod. Giggle. Let your hair drape around his face as your forehead leans on his. He laughs, too.

You're both highly aware of the fact that this is wrong .

You shouldn't be acting like this. Shouldn't be feeling this.

But you are.

And you'll continue to do so until the night draws to its inevitable end.

"What should I do about it, then, huh?" Jeongguk asks, tilting his pretty face up a little bit. The glitter on his cheeks catches in the light of his bedside table. The room around you feels too big. You don't acknowledge it. Only him.

You're so quiet when you reply. Know that you're saying things you shouldn't be; tempting him like you're some kind of divine serpentine being. Jeongguk's got one trailing up his arm in thick black ink. He likes snakes. Likes you, more. Likes how delicate your voice is when you say, "clean it up."

One of his hands grips your ass. Squeezes. Hard. Makes you mewl.

"And how should I do that?" He asks softly, knowing that if he doesn't get some kind of release soon, the friction of your still-clothed pussy over the bulge in his trousers will end him. Write him off entirely. Might even make him die.

You could be demure in your answer. You could play coy. Stop this from escalating

Or you could continue grinding against him, breath laboured, heartbeat unstable. You could run your thumb along his bottom lip. Nudge your nose against his in that tender you always do.

And then you could simply say, "Eat me out."

"Yeah?" He would say. Would want you to repeat it.

"Yeah," you'd reply. "Eat me out. Please."

So that's exactly what you do.

Jeongguk's mouth waters at the mere suggestion of getting his tongue between your folds. Has thought about it so many times. Never thought he'd see the day that you ask for it.

The tiny 'please' you whisper? The way you beg for it? His cock aches. Needs relief from you.

You're finicky to a fault though. Smirk as you say, "Real shame the bird hasn't fallen, isn't it?"

There are a few birds on his desk, but none of them are that specific bird.

Of all the ones you wrote together, there's only been one that you've ever known the identity of as it watches over you.

There's a small mark on its wing. You'd been holding the pen between your teeth as you'd folded it, but been distracted by Jeongguk mumbling to himself. Had narrowly avoided leaving a blotch of ink on crisp white sheets.

Instead, you'd cursed a bird - and so for the past six months, you'd look up at birds and wonder when it would fall. It was the only one you felt apprehensive of, but that simply was down to fact you knew what it was.

"Maybe we can do an I.O.U. for the birds?" He offers. Is keen.

You know you shouldn't cherry-pick the birds. It goes against their free will. Playing God will only ever end in tears - but you're still tipsy, and all you can think about is how much you need this.

It's been so long since anyone has eaten you out that now the idea is floating, you won't be able to rest until it's happened.

His hands stroke up the back of your legs as you stand up on his bed. His head is level with the tops of your thighs, so he lets his lips brush against them. Presses wet kisses up them. Is slow. You take a little extra pulling the right bird down. Lean in such a way that he's dangerously close to your panties. He can smell your arousal. Wants to taste it.

You settle back into his lap, bodies close as you hand him the bird. He looks at you. Wonders if there's magic behind those starry eyes of yours. Thinks there must be.

When he opens it up, and is greeted with the exact same act you've asked him to perform, he knows there must be magic in you.

The truth of it all is that you'd just made a bad decision when you made it. Shouldn't have dropped the pen. But you did; and now you're here.

"Make me feel good," you implore as you toy with his hair.

He wants his lips on your body; wants to feel the pressure of his lips brushing against yours.

Just isn't brave enough to take things that far, yet.

He tucks a little bit of your own hair behind your ear. Studies your face.

"Look at me when you ask."

You're slow to do as he asks. Spend a little time toying with his necklaces, instead. You know his eyes are on yours. He could count your lashes if he wanted - but he doesn't. Mainly because he can't think straight, let alone count above the number ten.

"B," he encourages, index finger curling beneath your chin. He tilts your head upwards, your eyes trailing up his features until they settle on his eyes.

"Want you to make me feel good."

He nods. Is eager as he does so. It's so hard to not kiss you.

"I will. Gonna make you feel so good, Byeol. You want that? Want me to make your pussy feel good?"

You nod your head. Widen your eyes as you beg. "Please."

Jeongguk respositions you. Gets you sitting in his spot. Stands as he grabs his shirt by the nape of his neck and pulls it over his head. Chucks it at you. Makes you both laugh - but fuck. He's gorgeous .

He grips the bulge in the front of his trousers. Groans .

"See how hard you make me?" He asks. Waits for you to nod. Unbuttons his slacks and lowers the zip, so the top of his dark boxer briefs poke through. He palms at himself. Presses his lips together as a muffled grunt stifles in his throat.

The subtle movement of his muscles beneath his warm skin has you entranced. He's human, yes, but built like a God. Worshipping him feels like the only appropriate course of action - and yet as he guides you over and positions you how he likes it - face down, ass up - he's the one who's gonna be worshipping you.

Eyes closed, you smile into the scent of his sheets. Hadn't realised how much you missed how soft they always are; cotton fresh and a worthy home for the night. Of all the boys you've ever dated, not of them have cared in the same way that Jeongguk does about his laundry.

He's like that in all aspects of his life, though. Details. His senses. They align and overlap, and Jeongguk has to have things in a specific way, otherwise he isn't happy.

You confuse him, in that way. You're haphazard to a fault, and Jeongguk knows that glitter never really fit into his idea of what it takes to build a home, but he misses it being on his sheets.

He pushes your dress up, over your ass. Doesn't look at your satin-covered pussy 'cause he's trying to hold off. Grapples the flesh of your ass, then delivers a short, sharp spank. Likes the way you gasp, then sigh.

Doesn't like that he can't see the smile he knows is on your lips though.

It's all rather confusing. This is how he likes to do things.

And yet he finds himself getting you back into your original position. Walks over to his door. Checks it's locked.

Jeongguk turns around to look at you, eyes dark, his intentions perfectly clear.

He prowls a little closer. Taps on your knees and encourages you to open your legs. Not once does his gaze drop from your eyes. Not when your legs spread, not when he lowers himself, not when he can fucking smell your arousal. He wants to. Wants to look at your pretty little pussy so badly - but he'd locked in on your eyes.

His hands slide up your thighs, pushing your dress to your hips. Your underwear is black, and your wetness has seeped through - but he doesn't acknowledge it. Not yet.

He lowers his lips, but keeps his eyes on yours still, as he presses a wet kiss to your thigh. Up he odesseys; one, two, three kisses. A trail of evidence is left, little dewy marks mapping out his journey. He leans over. Repeats it on your other thigh.

One of his hands grips your waist, while the other strokes your thigh that's without his lips. He's taking his time. Keeping his eyes on you. Can see how your chest moves; knows that you're as desperate for this as he is. He licks his lips, and smirks.

"So patient," he husks, oh-so-affectionately. Squeezes the soft flesh of your thigh. Loves how you feel. So warm, and soft, and made for him. "Such a good girl for me, aren't you?"

You nod, a tiny whine catching on your lips.

"What was that?" He asks, before his eyes finally glance down towards your covered cunt. It's only supposed to be for a second, but he didn't anticipate quite how wet you'd already be; how it would be shining through the fabric of your panties. They're silky today, and it just makes your slick look even messier.

He inhales a deep breath, and lets out a shallow laugh as his head drops in defeat. Can't even play it cool. He wants you. Wants you more than he needs air to breathe.

It's just pheromones, and he knows this. Knows how gets when he likes a girl. Knows how fucking nasty he can get in pursuit of her scent. In the very worst cases, he finds himself enjoying feet . Underarms. Underwear. Anywhere that's gonna release them.

He always liked the smell of your perfume; the fragrances you'd layer over yourself to mask your natural scent - but it's 5am, and you've been in a club all evening. Your perfume has worn off. This is all you.

And he knows he's utterly screwed.

His lips trail up your thigh. Head tilts. It's his nose, now, that's making contact with your clothed cunt. He's slow. Tepid. Taking his time, 'cause he's thought about this during so many lonely nights and doesn't wanna waste it.

His nose rests against the fabric that's keeping you away from him. His perpetually dewy nose dampens as he nudges against you. He inhales. Is shaky, in the way that he breathes. "Fuck."

The pressure of his nose against you deepens. He groans. Mumbles some incoherent shit about how fucking good you smell. Presses his lips against the soaked satin. Kisses. Get his lips all glossy.

He kitten licks, then drags his tongue up your underwear. Knows he'll get so much more of your taste if he just takes them off, but he's scared. Worries that having your cunt in his mouth will ruin him for the rest of his life.

And so he continues taking his time. Uses his tongue. Teases where he thinks your clit could be. He's not too far off, but it's hidden by your folds that have swollen quite considerably. He's teasing too much. Getting you too needy. His thumb presses over the wettest part of your panties, where he knows your hole must be. The way the material gives just a little, and the way you sigh into his touch only proves this.

"Please," you whisper.

Jeongguk nods, not once losing contact with your cunt, until he slowly pulls back. Runs his fingers over your soaked panties. Studies the way they cling to you. Looks up at you as he gently massages you. Runs his index finger under the laces edge of your panties. "You want them off, B?"

The way you're looking at him - eyes all wide, lips pouty - has him desperate for you. You could ask him to spend eternity with his face buried in your cunt, and he thinks he would.

He taps the side of your thigh - "hips" - and encourages you to raise yourself. His fingers hook over the sides of your underwear.

"Dress," he says, indicating his desire for you to take that off too, now that you can. Is too busy staring at your cunt, and the way your slick juices string to your underwear as he pulls them down to even realise you're taking it off. Bra, too.

Jeongguk is tentative as he gets your panties off. Hold your feet as he slips your ankle through them, and repeats. Doesn't get rid of them immediately.

He's so fucking hard he thinks he might die - and it only gets worse when he brings your sopping wet panties to his nose. It's lewd . The way he inhales your scent is erotic to the point of it being perverse - but it has you leaking for him. His dark eyes fall open, and land on yours.

The material hooks over his fingers, as Jeongguk reaches over to squeeze one of your tits. He's missed them. Will scream 'I'm an ass guy' until the cows come home, but knows it's your nipples he'll be sucking on when you inevitably milk him of his cum a little later. Your panties drag over the hardened bud of your nipple as he toys with you. Smears your juices all over it. Glistens as Jeongguk sits up a little to bring your panties to your mouth.

"Wanna see how good you taste?" He asks, as if you aren't parting your lips for him regardless. You nod, all pathetic and needy as your tongue rests flat for him to do as he pleases - which, at the moment, is pushing your slick-covered panties into your mouth. Thinks they'll probably help. Will muffle your whines, at least. Works a treat as you whimper a little when he taps your jaw. 'Close your mouth', he's saying silently - and so you do.

He pulls back a little, fingers dipping to slide between your folds, eyes on your face, still. Smirks. Uses the fingers that aren't exploring your slippery cunt to squeeze at your chest. Your eyes are so wide. You whimper. He deliberately didn't stuff your underwear completely in your mouth. Likes seeing the satin. Likes knowing how willing you are to do anything for him. His thumb swipes over the slick on your nipple. Massages it in - and decides it's a waste. Leans down to latch his lips around your hardened bud.

He's the one whining now. Loves the way you feel in his mouth. Loves licking the taste from your skin. The fingers toying with your folds search for your slit, and push themselves into you as Jeongguk sucks on your nipple.

Not a boob guy, not a boob guy, not a boob guy - and yet as he pulls himself back, releasing you with a slight pop from the suction of his lips leaving your nipple, he smiles. Watches the way your tit wobbles, all soft, nipples hard, desperate for his return. He pushes his fingers deeper inside of you. Tells you how much he's missed them.

He reaches up to hook your panties in his fingers again. Pulls them from your mouth. Tosses them down. The way you're whimpering deserved to be heard, he decides.

His lips press a chaste kiss to your other nipple. Tongue flicks. He sucks. Just for a second. He's got places to be; a cunt plugged with his fingers that he's dying to taste again. Trailing down your skin, his lips leave a pretty dewy trail.

You hadn't been expecting the night to end like this, so while you're nice and neat and trimmed, your pussy is a little less bare than normal. Jeongguk likes it. Would never impose his preferences, but knows that this is it. Always has been. Enjoys the way your slick catches in your hair; how messy you look for him. Your juices string across your folds, and decides he can't keep his tongue away any longer.

The first lick is slow. Flat. He whines against you. Stalls his fingers, 'cause he wants to focus on the sensation; how warm you are, how delicious he thinks you taste. His tongue flicks as he reaches the northernmost point of your folds, and the way your body shudders a little is indication enough that he knows exactly where to focus. Of course he does. Your clit has swollen just as much as your folds, desperate for a little relief.

He doesn't give you it. Not yet. The lewd sounds of his fingers pushing back into your cunt makes him smirk. You're so unbelievably wet. Wetter than he thinks he's ever had you - and you've never been exactly dry for him. Maybe it's the alcohol. Maybe you've missed him. Maybe it's both. When his tongue presses back into your folds, you know it's neither of those things.

You're soaked because he just knows what he's doing. Understands your body. Drags his tongue up and down your cunt, fingers fucking themselves into you. The sensation is unbearable. You need more - and more is what he gives you when his spare hand eases your lips apart, spreading your pussy so that he can get better access to your clit. The tip of his tongue massages against you ever so gently. He's careful not to be too aggressive - until he spits at it.

"Shit," you whine, letting your back sink into his sheets. You'd been watching, but now all you want to do is feel . You're scared that watching him - his pretty lashes splayed over the top of his cheeks, his dewy, wet, nose nudging your clit, the way his tongue laps against it- will finish you off too quickly. And that's before you even consider the mirror on the far wall, and the way his broad back looks perfectly positioned with your legs hooked over his shoulders.

He spreads his spit with his thumb. Smirks as your body shudders. "You okay, B?"

"Mhmm," you mumble, teeth biting the pad of your palm beneath your thumb. You're trying to keep quiet.

"Asked you a question," he says as his thumb builds speed, flicking over you gently. He's careful, but controlled. Your body writhes from his touch, legs pushing down on his shoulders, encouraging his face back to where he belongs. He almost whispers as his lips ghost your clit. "Tell me you're okay. Chess is always an option."

Why the fuck you'd wanna play chess is beyond you - and then you remember. Oh, he's so attentive. So kind. So gentle. So deserving of a blowjob.

"I'm okay," you promise, and Jeongguk finally lets his lips wrap around your clit. There's a provocative nature to the way he lets himself get all breathless and grunty. His tongue licks tenderly against your clit, but his fingers have been going for so long he's scared he'll cramp.

The way you whimper when he pulls them out is like music to his ears. Needy and pathetic. Gets his cock all hard.

You loved being plugged by him. Love the fullness he gives you. Hate to lose it.

His hands push back your thighs now. He studies you. Watches the clear fluid leak from you. Knows that your pussy must be desperate for his cock. Doesn't want to let any go to waste, so quickly licks it up. Sinks his tongue into the entrance of your hole. Can't go too far, but doesn't care to. Just wants to tease. To taste you. Drink nectar straight from the source.

One of your hands clasps over his fingers by your thigh. The other tenderly scratches at his scalp. You love his hair like this, all messy and indicative of the fact he's been up to no good. As he pulls away from you, lips glossy, a string of slick briefly keeping him attached to you, lip ring coated in the very essence of you, you decide you never want another face between your legs again. He's too pretty. You'll always compare.

He looks up at you with total adoration, a lopsided grin on his face as you scratch behind his ear. He's well aware he must look like a fucking puppy dog, but he doesn't care.

"You're so good," you tell him. Want him to know. Smirk, because you're aware of the dog parallels, too. "Such a good boy."

That shouldn't make Jeongguk's cock twitch as much as it does.

The hand in his hair encourages him back down, and he decides to show you just how good he really can be. His tongue roams between your folds, licking, and lapping. He's fast, and he's intentional, lips pouting as they press kisses against you, and even more so when they suck your sensitive bud between them.

Eyes closed, hands in his hair, legs wrapping around his head, you think of how pretty he is; how unspoilt his features are. You've never seen a nose so perfectly sloped or a cupid's bow so idyllic. It's the perfect ridge for your juices to gather, and Jeongguk knows this. Already isn't looking forward to his shower, 'cause he doesn't wanna lose the scent of you.

His pace increases. Fingers sink back into you. He's taking you for all you're worth; will win your orgasm fair and square. Needs it. Thinks he'll die without it.

The sounds of Jeongguk eating your pussy echo into his room; his fingers pushing you to the point of no return as his tongue massages you to a hedonistic state of being. The pressure in the very pit of your tummy builds. Your grip on his hair tights. You curse. Whimper.

"Right there. Fuck . Right there."

He doesn't ease. Gets faster. Edges and edges until he can edge no further. The wave crashes over; your release dizzying and detrimental all in one blow. It jolts through you, legs shaking, hot walls clenching, breathless mewls of pleasure letting Jeongguk know just how well he did. He doesn't stop. Pushes you further. Gets you gasping.

"Gguk," you whimper. "I- Fuck."

He nods against you. Doesn't stop. Lets his nose nestle into your folds. Holds his tongue back, just to say, "this cunt... fuck ."

You giggle, now. Jeongguk feels you tightening as you do so. Eases his fingers from you. Keeps you spread apart. Wants to see how messy you are - but is cut short when you say, "c'mere."

He doesn't even think about it. Just discards himself of his clothes and comes to join you on his bed. Will do anything you ask of him. There's a silly little smile on his pussy-drenched lips as his head nestles next to yours, face still covered in glitter. He's so heavenly like this; so angelic when he's unmistakably yours.

You aren't really thinking as you move closer. Your natural inclination is to kiss him, for a job well done. You realise just in time. Stop yourself. Grin as you nudge your nose against his, not caring for the fact he's covered in your cunt.

He grins, too. Laughs a little. "Was that okay?"

You nod. Wanna kiss him so badly. Speak, just stop yourself. Echo a thought you've shared before. "You really should start an only fans."

He laughs again. It's hearty and wholesome, and pure - or as pure as it can be, when he's covered in evidence of making your pussy cum. Neither of you really care for cleaning up just yet. His smile is too big. Dimples too deep. Lines beneath his eyes too telling of his happiness. God, he's missed you.

"I'd be no good on my own," he tells you. "Would need you to help me out."

You protest. Tell him to buy one of those fake pussy fuck-toys. Says it's all he needs. He corrects you. Tells you they're fleshlights, but doesn't tell you he's got one hidden in the back of his drawer from a particularly dry spell.

"No, not those," you say. "I mean like, the full torso ones. The ones with tits."

"Why would I want one of them?" He smirks, as his hands are quite literally squeezing at your boobs. He's just keeping them warm. That's all. "Ass guy."

You don't even dignify him with a verbalised response. Just tilt your head down to where Jeongguk is rolling your nipples between his thumbs and forefingers.

"What?" He feigns indifference.

"Your lies will catch up with you," you promise him. He pushes your tits up as far as he can, dipping down to suck delicately on your nipples. Just for a couple of seconds. Maybe five. Six. Okay, ten - but you feel so nice in his mouth, so soothing - and then it's twenty seconds. Thirty. Forty.

He switches nipples. Repeats. Pulls away. Is so hard he thinks he might cum prematurely if he doesn't get a release soon.

You've completely altered his sense of desire. Ruined him for anyone else. You'd argue you've made him better. Deep down, he'd know it to be true.

"Gguk?"

"Hmm?" he mumbles a little lazily against your skin.

You toy with his hair, raking your finger through his silky waves. Any product he had been wearing in it seems to be redundant now, your hands too busy messing with it for it to hold its shape. He had looked so pretty all night.

Looks prettiest, now.

"I'm sorry I stole your chance to have a New Year's kiss," you say, thinking of how many girls must have wanted him.

The smile on his face falters a little. He's quiet for a moment, then speaks with absolute sincerity. "Meant what I said. I've a whole year for kisses, B. They can wait. Wanted to be with you when New Year came in."

"I feel bad," you whisper.

"Don't." He opens his eyes, and sees how stark your self-imposed guilt is. Your hands are still toying with his hair, so he holds onto your wrists and rests the pad of his thumb in the palm of your hand. Is contented when your fingers close down on it. He shakes your hand a little, and smiles tenderly. "Don't. Really, B. Are you sad?" He asks. "That you didn't have one, I mean? Did you want one?"

Answers are complex when they're both yes and no; much like this one. You would have wanted one for the sake of enjoying a silly little tradition - but you didn't wanna kiss a stranger, and didn't want to kiss those close to you, either.

And so you deflect with a joke. "Why? Are you offering?"

Stupid joke. Stupid fuckin' joke .

Jeongguk knows it's a joke. Weighs up how he could respond. Sincerity seems too heavy. Joking back seems too careless.

And so he tries honesty.

"Yeah," he whispers. "I am."

His lips ghost yours, 'cause he'll never be the one to put pressure behind them first. He wants to. Is dying to.

Thinks, in classic Jeongguk style, that he'll die if can't do it one day soon.

The way you always get so close to him, suffocate him in your hair and the scent of your perfume, drives him mad. He's spent so many hours trying not to kiss you. Has never shared the taste of your tongue, but has shared oxygen with you. Thinks there's nothing to be scared of - but knows that you are.

He'll never ridicule your fears. Not intentionally.

And so he is patient, and perfectly restrained with you.

Some say it's a virtue.

Yet as you wish he'd just do it - rip the band aid - you can't help but think of it as a vice.

He'll never do you wrong. Sometimes you wish he would.

But that's the thing about wishes. There's no divine intervention from an arbitrary God. No stars changing alignment. The luck you manifest is yours and yours alone. Wishes come true because you will it to be that way.

Jeongguks grip on your waist tightens as your nose nudges deeper against his. There's a deliberate nature to your movements; how your hand rests on his jaw and how your leg hooks over his hip. The fluidity of your bodies together makes it so easy.

The grip on your waist is diverted to your ass. His fingers squeeze. Lips pout. Hips roll.

He husks your name. Not disco ball. Not Byeol. Your actual fucking name. Fucking whines against your lips. Can barely fuckin' breathe. "Please."

Your lips brush his. No pressure. Just aligning. Seeing how his lip ring feels. Jeongguk's semi begins to stiffen as he rubs himself against you again. His breathing is fucked.

Slowly - nervously, timidly - you slip your lips between his. Sink into the space left between them. Your bottom lip is plush between his. He doesn't press down. He waits. Waits and waits and waits. Has been waiting for months. What hurt will a few seconds do?

The hand you're resting on his jaw pulls him closer. Dictates his moves. This is all up to you.

The way your body nervously awaits the pressure you're refusing to apply is so telling. The delicate buds of your nipples that Jeongguk has grown to adore are hard against his bare chest. He's having to be careful as he rubs up against you, because your pussy is getting wetter and wetter. Coated in everything you are, Jeongguk's throbbing cock slides between your folds, massaging you in a way that you'll never grow tired of.

Jeongguk wants to speak; to encourage you.

Any words spoken would result in the closing of his lips and the removal of your ability to choose this - and so he stays quiet. Moans a little when the friction of his foreskin sliding back against your wet folds gets a little too good.

You smile. Like the way it feels. Can feel the slick build, then leak from the depths of your cunt. Know that you're one overly-eager rut away from him fucking himself into you.

Maybe you should pull away. Maybe you should let him fuck you instead.

But you've come so far.

You're safe. Warm. Content. With your favourite person in the whole entire world.

If you can't kiss him, then who the fuck can you kiss?

You still your hips. So does he. Deepen the position of your lips, until you know they can go no further. His nose is nestled next to yours, a shallow breath reminding you that life will go on - you'll still breathe - even if your lips close down on his.

He's always told you that he's not scared of you.

It's time to reciprocate that.

And so silently, as you press your lips down into his, you let go of a fear that's been holding you back for far too long.

It takes Jeongguk a moment to kiss you back. He wants to be sure you're sure.

But you are.

His lips slowly accept this new sensation; the softness of your bottom lip, the feeling of your nose as it nudges against his, the pining sensation that's so often left on his lips being remedied.

He's kissing you. Slowly, silently, serenely. It lasts for hours, but also for just a second. You're not sure which is more accurate as your lips naturally part for a moment; to breathe. To assess. To realign. To repeat.

He kisses you again. Once. Twice. Deeper, a third time. His hips begin to rut. His moans vibrate against you. The slipperiness of your pussy is juxtaposed to the innocence of such pure kisses. Lips still on his, you reach down to where your bodies are so well acquainted, it's like interrupting a conversation. Your nimble fingers wrap around Jeongguk's length. He moans. Wants to say something, but can't. Doesn't want to stop kissing you.

You move your hips. Line him up. Nod into the kiss. A hard breath exhales from his nose against your cheek, his whine echoing into your mouth as the tip of his cock penetrates your entrance. The fit is tight - snug - but so welcome. It's like coming home, he thinks.

"You're so fucking good," he whines into your lips, then presses down against them once more. "Such a good fuckin' girl for me."

He means it. You are good for him. Give him somewhere he belongs; somewhere he'll never feel alien. A girl full of galaxies, yet he's home no matter which cosmic entity you remind him of on any given day of the week.

You whine a little as his hips pulse up, pushing his dick into you. He's so big, and you're still so sensitive from how well he ate you out earlier, but you think you'd rather die than not see this through. You'll take the overstimulation, take whatever he'll give you, just to feel that fullness you only get from him.

Jeongguk grunts as he fucks himself into you. Gets breathless. Gets moany. Gets mean. Nasty.

"Gonna nut inside you," he tells you. You smirk against his lips. You love it when he gets all chatty and tells you all kinds of shit he never would if he wasn't on the brink of an orgasm. "God, I'm gonna fill your pussy up with my cum. Gonna fill you so well. Fill you forever."

That's not exactly how anatomy works and you go to tell him as such - but he changes position. Gets you on your back. Sits on his heels. Grips your waist with one hand, your chest with the other. Squeezes. Gets you whining. He pulses his hips slowly. Once. Fuck . Twice. Yes . And then he's back to a pace that feels more like him; fast and rough.

The sound of his skin slapping against yours is almost as loud as the breathless moans you can't be bothered to hide. He's making you feel so good as he pumps himself into you. It's only fair he knows just how well he's doing.

He squeezes at one of your boobs. Pinches your nipple. Pulls a little. Makes you moan. Does the same to the other side. Watches as they move from the momentum of his hips. Is fucking obsessed. Can't believe he wasted so many years convinced he was an ass guy. Loves your ass, granted, but fuck .

And when your hand sinks down to play with your clit while he's fucking his fat cock into your tight hole? God. Jeongguk thinks he might just die.

Tells you so.

"Gonna kill me off, you are."

You giggle. The way your pussy throbs around him? Yeah. Chances of death? Rapidly increasing.

"Feel good?" you check, just in case.

He nods. Wishes you could experience what it's like to fuck you; how good feel. How much he loves being trapped inside you. Makes his already desperate cock throb when he has those moments of clarity; he's fucking you. His cock? It's inside you. It's a simple thought process, but one that always overwhelms him.

Sinking down to suck on your nipples, tits in a white-knuckle death grip, Jeongguk knows if he thinks in any great depth, then that will be it. He'll cum. He wants this to last. Knows it can - but also knows your pussy is gonna make him cum so so soon.

So lost in his thoughts, he almost doesn't notice when you call his name. If it weren't for your hand cupping beneath his chin and pulling him down, he might not have realised at all. "Gguk?"

He follows your lead. Is about to sink his lips in yours when he replies, "Yeah, baby?"

He doesn't mean to call you that. Knows he absolutely should not have called you that. Kisses you again to distract from the fact he did. Ruts into you faster. Harder. Revels in the tightness of your walls, and the softness of your lips.

Knows he should check what you needed, but it was nothing, Just wanted him to look at you. But he'd called you baby. Oh, you're all sorts of fucked up. Try not to think about it. Your distraction method? A kiss . The waters are getting so muddy. This is so bad. Detrimental.

But fuck. He's close. So close. Doesn't wanna stop; any of it. Doesn't wanna stop fucking you. Doesn't wanna stop kissing you. God. He can't believe he can . Can't believe he knows what your moans sound like when they're vibrating into his mouth. Can barely wrap his head around the fact your tongue is in his mouth. He thinks he's going crazy. Thinks he might have already died. There's no way he can feel this at home inside another person's body.

But he does.

Knows that there's no pussy that's ever gotten him like this. Would be foolish to think you're the only person who will ever make him feel this way, but he quite enjoys playing the fool.

Jeongguk's skin is clammy. Sweat beads on his skin. Some of it catches on your skin as you move your hands from his back to cup his sharp jaw, and find yourself obsessed . Primitive desire, you think. Just like Jeongguk's obsession with your scent. All just survival of the fittest, built to breed, type shit. Of all the people he could fuck his sperm into, his body seems to think you'd be a good match. He trusts it. Agrees with it.

"Fucking me so well," you tell him. "Working so hard."

He nods, forehead resting in the crook of your neck. "Working so hard, B. Wanna make you feel good."

There are no words to articulate the way Jeongguk feels inside of you. No size grand enough, no adjective complimentary enough. No sensation even close to the euphoria that comes with being fucked by Jeon Jeongguk.

You press a tiny little kiss to his lips. "You do." And then you kiss him again. Deeper. Tug on his bottom lip with his teeth. Get him whining. His cock stalls. Left leg begins to shake. His right will follow, but it's always in that order. Left, then right. The way he whimpers into your mouth makes you wanna edge him for all of eternity - but he deserves this orgasm.

"Where should I- Fuck. Byeol, I'm there. I'm gonna- Fuck . Where do you want it?"

"Tits," you say without a second thought. You wanna watch him cum. Wanna see it. Wanna see how pretty his cock looks as his cum pulses out of it.

You hate how it feels when Jeongguk pulls out - how empty you are - but when he's shakily getting himself in position, jaw hanging slack, brows threaded together, lewd moans escaping his mouth as he wanks him over your tits, you know its worth it.

"That's it," you encourage. "All over my tits."

Jeongguk curses. Tightens the way he's straddling over you. Tugs at himself. Loses his fucking mind when your hand wraps around his. He lets go. It's all you; one hand around his shaft, the other softly playing with his balls. "Yeah. Yeah, Like that. Oh, fuck."

His legs shake; torso tenses. Has to grab onto his headboard just to keep himself from fucking keeling over. He's stimulated to a point he doesn't think he's reached before. Doesn't even feel like his body is his.

"Cumming," he mumbles. "I'm fucking cumming."

The way his cock twitches, balls tightening, is enough to confirm this. You keep going.

"All over my tits," you say again, just to really drive it home. "Good boy."

His whimpers are quiet as he unloads his cum onto you in thick, creamy spurts. You hold his cock against one of your tits, and let his spunk trail down them. A few more releases drip onto your skin. He sits up straighter. Looks at the mess. Wants to fuck you all over again.

He grips his still-hard cock and spanks it against your cum-covered tits. Massages his leaky head against them; rubs his cum into your skin. Lets go of his cock. Grips your tits instead. Pushes them both together, and watches as his cum smears all over them. Squeezes your nipples. Wants them in his mouth. Moves a little down the bed, and positions himself beside you. Encourages you to face him as his tongue licks against your cummy chest. He circles around your nipple. Takes it in his mouth. Sucks. One of his hands grips your other boob. Holds it close to his face so he can switch between your nipples, of which he does. Sucks for a moment or so. Teases with his tongue. Then switches. It's a back and forth that has you going insane.

And when his spare hand dips down to play with your folds? Sinks a finger back into your soaked cunt? Heaven. He fucks a second finger into you. A third. Keeps his lips suctioned around your nipples, utterly obsessed with the way it feels to have them in his mouth.

He's a little careless with his fingers, but it's exactly what you need to come undone again. You need it rough. Need him to override the overstimulation you're fighting. It doesn't take long. Your body writhes, but he keeps you close. Doesn't bother talking you through it. You both know it's his tongue against your sensitive nipples that's working the magic. Words would be wasted.

Your orgasm hits you hard. Fast. It waves over you so violently that you almost kick him. Jeongguk smirks as he begins to feel your orgasm contract around his fingers.

Your wetness seeps from you, Jeongguk still plugging your pussy. Your muscles are tight in a way he doesn't think he's experienced before. Your climax is violent. All consuming. You have to bite his pillow just to stop yourself from screaming.

It's never felt like this before. He doesn't relent. Is obsessed. It's so much wetter than usual. Your whimpers are different, too. The way your legs shake? The way you can't fucking breathe? How your pussy is quite literally clamping his fingers inside of you? It's all different. It's so much more than an orgasm.

He's never taken you this far beyond the point of a climax. Didn't know you could do this. Has only ever seen it in fucking porn. Sort of thought it was a myth - but you're squirting for him. Because of him. On him.

He will die, and you absolutely will be the cause of it.

"Fuck, B," Jeongguk curses against your lips as he realises what's happening. Keeps going. Fucks his fingers into you, still. His hand is getting wetter, still . You shake, still ; squirt, still . Jeongguk's gonna fuckin' die. That's all he can think about. Death, and pussy. His, and yours. Hell, and heaven. "That's it. Squirt for me, B. Such a good girl."

You nod, almost delirious from the pleasure he's administering. His fingers fuck into you still, your pussy contracting around him.

Eyes closed, teeth pressing down on your bottom lip, you can't think of anything except the sensation of your pussy giving itself up for him. The wave of pleasure was so intense that you hadn't noticed your release at first; not until the lewd sounds of his fingers inside of you became louder, and Jeongguk himself had realised.

You don't even really have grasp on the fact it happened. Knew that it could, but you've been the only person to ever get yourself that far. Never has someone else ever made you squirt. You don't think you ever really trusted anyone enough with your body to give it up entirely.

But Jeongguk is Jeongguk. There's nothing to be scared of.

"Koo," you whimper as you finally get some control over yourself, body jolting from the intensity of it all.

He's slow to withdraw his fingers. Doesn't want to, but also knows he has to be gentle.

"I know, baby," he husks a little breathlessly, as he presses a kiss into your shaky lips. "I know."

In all honesty, he doesn't know. Doesn't have a clue what you could possibly be thinking. Just knows he's feeling all sorts of fucked up, and that you probably are, too.

It's been a long night. You've both been through it.

But you both feel overwhelmingly at ease.

"Sorry," he whispers. Presses a kiss against your hair.

"Mhmm?" You question, still deliriously spent. There's so much to do. Sheets to change. Showers to be had. You just wanna laze with him a little while longer. "What for?"

Jeongguk holds you close. Doesn't wanna lose this, either. He knows how you get once the morning comes and regrets start creeping in. He's doing damage control early. Letting you know that it's okay.

"I broke your rules," he says, as if you weren't a willing participant.

You shake your head. You kissed him first. Kissed him when he called you baby. Rewarded him for his misdemeanours. Of course he'd be a repeat offender. You're just as much to blame.

"Don't do that."

"Apologise?"

"Don't put all the blame on you. It's not," you say, before leaning up to steal an ever-so-sacred kiss from his lips. "There. I did it. I broke them. My fault."

"B-"

"If you try and apologise I'm gonna think you regret it," you tell him.

Jeongguk shuts up. Plans to remain silent. Can't help himself, though. Thinks it's important you know how he feels about you, and the birds, and this whole fuckin' mess.

"I've never regretted a thing we've done, B. Never."

His tone consumes you. Is so serious. So sincere. It makes you nervous - so you deflect.

"What about that time we accidentally ordered the extra spicy tteokbokki?"

He smiles. Laughs. Is serene as he eases up. "Okay. One regret."

You kiss him. Lips soft. Touch tender. Just 'cause you can. Just 'cause you wanna.

Have resigned yourself to the fact this is one-night-only kind of thing; that come the next morning, you'll laugh about it.

'Can you believe we kissed?' 'Let's never do that again.' 'So weird.' 'Just a friendly kiss. Sort of like kissing a fish, actually.' 'I'm gonna sew your mouth shut one day.'

And so for now, as Jeongguk encourages you up - "c'mon. Shower. You get in. I'll sort the sheets. Will join you in a second, okay?" - and kisses you again before you leave, you revel in it.

You stand alone under the crashing water, wondering what the fuck you've just done. Contemplating how badly this will all end up biting you in the arse.

Jeongguk does much the same. Looks at himself in the mirror; naked and alone. Can see evidence of you all over his skin - scratch marks, pretty purple bouquets delivered by your lips, the sheen of your slick - and decides he likes himself better this way. Doesn't think he'll look like himself when it's all washed away.

He makes up his bed. Puts a fresh sheet down, and tosses the old one by his door, ready for a wash. Goes to chuck his pillows on the floor - and then just doesn't. If you want the space, he'll give you it, no questions asked. He doesn't want the space, though. Wants you in his bed again. Wants you close.

And as he comes to join you in the shower, a protective arm slinking around your waist, lips pressed into your neck, you know that you don't want to be alone. Not for the rest of the night, at least. The glitter might wash away, but this feeling? He's not certain.

You're not sure that waking up beside him will be sensible for your fragile heart, but can't stand the idea of not falling asleep beside him. He's so warm. It's the smart thing to do. Will save on his heating bill.

A good decision, you think.

But since when have you ever been good at those?

AO3 | MASTERLIST | MINORS DNI

#jungkook smut

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frudoo · 7 months

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Random König Headcanons

Hey y'all! This is my first post on here so I hope it's alright <3

These are all pretty SFW (for now >:)), so I don't think there's really any content warnings??? Idk let me know if I'm wrong.

Likes going to Build-a-Bear. Will definitely make your bear and his bear kiss.

This man can COOK. Oh, you want takeout? Nah. He's already pulling out the ingredients for your favorite dish. Buys the two of you matching aprons.

Talks to animals like they're babies. I also feel like the man just... attracts wild animals like birds and squirrels. Undercover Disney princess??? Perhaps.

Speaking of babies... the man is so good with kids. Laughs all giddily when toddlers climb him like a tree. Wants you to have his babies so bad

Actually has a decent singing voice. Get him drunk enough and he's doing karaoke like a pro. Oh, and if you agree to sing a duet with him??? He's GONE. Goes all out.

Likes to hold pinkies when walking around in public. He likes holding hands, too, but when he's feeling a little more anxious he'll intertwine your pinkies. PDA isn't his strong suit but he HAS to be touching you at all times, and it's like a pinky promise that he'll always be there with you :,)

Draws patterns/words on your back with his fingertips when y'all are laying in bed. Mainly a bunch of pet names, "I love you"s, and hearts. And cartoon penises

This big burly BEAST of a man loves being the little spoon, no matter how impractical it is. Honestly loves any cuddling position though.

Pouts when you're not giving him enough attention. His lips get SO puffy when he's jealous. Talking to one of his friends? He's grumbling German insults to them under his breath. Eventually he'll just scoot closer to you on the couch and rest his legs on top of your lap. BAM, now he's got your attention, even if it's just you telling him that he's crushing you. Big ol' lap dog.

Likes to do your hair!! He'll take pictures of what he's done and show them to you like a hairdresser :,) It could be the worst hairstyle you've ever seen but you're wearing it PROUDLY.

On the rare occasion that you two go out to a restaurant, he REFUSES to tell the waiter if his meal is wrong. Oh, it's shrimp and he's allergic to shellfish? He's telling the waiter he loves it and will just stare at the untouched plate sadly. Also will not let you trade plates with him because what if the waiter sees??? Tries to sink under the table when you finally cave and tell the waiter that the order is wrong. Glares at you the entire time he eats his new correct meal but is secretly so thankful. <3

Is absolute trash at video games. One of the best combat soldiers on the planet, but put a controller in his hands??? He's lucky if he gets three shots in.

Bought an engagement ring two weeks after you two started dating. I mean, he literally fell in love with you immediately upon seeing you for the first time, so are you really surprised??

Is a really good gift wrapper. His hands always start cramping around the holidays because he does most of the wrapping. His love language is 100% physical touch/gift giving btw.

Adding onto the singing thing... I just think he would be a really good musician, specifically a drummer.

NOSE NUZZLES. Like the Brendan Fraser type of kiss where you just rub noses after. He just gives off those romantic vibes <3

Unconventional kisses. Eyelids, the tip of your ear, everywhere you have moles, your calves, ankles... the man is obsessed with you, and he's kissing you wherever he can reach.

ADORES taking baths with you. Candles, rose petals, bath bombs: he does it all. Washes your hair for you. Lots of forehead and temple kisses.

I am unwell. I need him so bad.

Please feel free to reblog if you'd like!! I hope y'all enjoyed my little (very self-indulgent) rambles. :)))

#könig x reader #könig cod #headcanon #fluff #call of duty #könig fluff #cod #könig mw2 #my baby my BABY #need him more than oxygen tbh

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penkura · 3 months

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last forever [9/13]

Summary: Zoro only offered to marry you to keep you out of an arranged marriage with a man much older than you. You agreed with the caveat of ending it via annulment once you received word from your parents regarding the original engagement, despite your growing feelings for your close friend.

Pairing: Zoro x Fem!reader, mentioned Sanami later (like epilogue later so chill)

Warnings: Marriage of Convenience, Fake Marriage, referenced sex (waaaaaay later on), mutual pining, Zoro is bad at feelings but what's new there, eventual romance I promise, mention of past attempted assault (I'll warn in that chapter), creepy older dude later on

Note: Post-timeskip, go let's go. Of course, they're a little older now, we know Zoro is 21, so Reader is now 20. :) This chapter IS shorter than the others that are left, but that just means we're getting into the better parts of the story. I really can't wait for you all to see what's next. :)

Taglist:

@misfits1a

[Ch. 1] ● [Ch. 2] ● [Ch. 3] ● [Ch. 4] ● [Ch. 5] ● [Ch. 6] ● [Ch. 7] ● [Ch. 8]

It’s been a long time since you’ve felt such strong anxiety about seeing people, not since the last time you’d met with your parents’ chosen fiancé for you, but it’s come back in spades at the thought of seeing your crew again after two years.

At the thought of seeing Zoro again, more than anything.

The thought of him deciding to dissolve your marriage when he sees you again is the main source of your anxiety, what you try to push away as you leave the lovely group of swordswomen who took care of you for the last two years, those who you’d told about your situationship with Zoro wishing you the best as they dropped you off. You hope no one is jinxing anything, but still feel nervous every time you see someone or something that could be Zoro as you go about, looking for things to purchase and for your friends.

When Nami and Usopp find you, the happiness between the three of you makes all your worries and anxieties dissipate for the time being. Both hug you so tightly, a three-person group hug, you almost cry out of happiness at seeing them again, before Nami starts fawning over how you look so much stronger yourself. She can’t believe how different you seem! She adores your outfit of course, a fitted tank top with knee-length shorts to match and ankle boots, your beloved sword from Elias still attached to your hip. You tell her how wonderful she looks, giving Usopp the same compliment as the three of you start making your way towards Sunny, running into a distraught Chopper who you’re able to calm down after an explanation of the fake Starw Hats on Sabaody.

Chopper gives you a big hug and lets you carry him the rest of the way, its like you have a child but you don’t mind it. You’ll baby Chopper all he wants, it’s the least you can do after he’d taken such great care of you all as your crew’s doctor before you were separated.

Once you make it to Sunny, you’re glad to see your ship and home is safe, and receive compliments from Franky and Robin regarding how more grown up you look. You are twenty now, after all, but it makes you smile shyly and your face feel warm as you thank them both.

After Chopper leaves to retrieve the missing members of your crew once Brook arrives, you start to feel your anxiety creep in again, Robin noticing right away and giving you a soft smile.

“Zoro will be glad to see you again.”

“You,” you gulp a bit, smiling nervously now, “you think so?”

“I do. You two have been close since I’ve been with everyone, I’m sure he’ll be happy to see you’re well.”

You really do hope Robin is right, especially when you hear Chopper calling for you all, the large bird he’d left on returning now with Luffy, Sanji, and Zoro aboard as well. You surprise yourself by not crying when you see Zoro, instead grinning brightly and joining Usopp at waving widely to the three of them, shouting their names.

It slightly catches Zoro off guard to see you so happy, but still makes him keep his own smile on his face when he sees you. Robin is correct, though Zoro doesn’t know that, but he is truly glad to see you’re fine, you look so much stronger than two years ago, and seeing how you keep yourself up on your feet when Luffy flings himself down to give you a hug, he’s even more impressed. He wants, needs, to talk to you alone, but after making it on deck, Luffy still hasn’t let you go, Zoro realizes its going to be a bit before he can take you elsewhere to talk, especially so once Sanji recovers from his nosebleed and also gives you a hug. He turns to fawning over you like Nami did, telling you how lovely you look.

Zoro can’t disagree with that statement.

He gives you time with Sanji, who continues to talk to you and tries to tell you about his own two years, until he notices you’re constantly glancing past him, and he knows exactly why.

Sanji smiles at you, before taking you by the shoulder and pushing you towards Zoro, essentially telling you to go see your husband already, he’s been waiting for you to be free so you could talk maybe. It makes you smile at him before you finally walk over to Zoro, who had turned to leaning against the rail with his arms crossed and eyes closed, until you tap his shoulder and he opens his one good eye to see you.

“Hey there.”

“Hey.”

You feel nervous, for some reason, before you notice the scar over his left eye finally and tilt your head.

“What happened with your eye?”

“Training accident,” Shrugging, Zoro stands up straight and you realize he’s gotten slightly taller in the last two years, he notices the same for you but you’re still shorter than him, “Come with me for a bit, yeah?”

Nodding, you follow Zoro up to the crow’s nest, the two of you briefly talking about your two years. You’re amazed to hear he trained under Mihawk, while Zoro is beyond impressed you ended up in a village for swordswoman. He knew you looked stronger, he can’t wait to see how much better you’ve become with your sword.

Once you’re both in the crow’s nest, before you can say anything else, Zoro surprises you this time but hugging you as tightly as he can, which you return once you’ve shaken off the shock that he’s initiated this. You thought the two years would make the two of you drift apart, not being around each other or anything, but perhaps you’d just been paranoid the whole time.

Don’t cry, I don’t want to cry right now…

“I missed you.”

He’s making it difficult for you not to cry, so you just nod a bit, biting your tongue to keep from crying.

“I missed you too, Zoro…”

Neither of you say anything for a while, you’re impressed the rest of your crew hasn’t tried to bother and bring you both back down with everyone, but you’re also grateful for it. You both need this, just some time together, time alone, it’s probably not enough time to discuss your marriage and what’s next, but you don’t really care that much.

“I…I love you…”

Zoro nods, pressing a soft kiss to your forehead briefly.

“I know.”

That’s enough for you right now, it still makes you smile up at him, before you frown a bit, causing Zoro to raise an eyebrow at you.

“My parents…they still want me to go back and marry him…”

“Oh yeah?”

You nod, staying quiet for a moment before you sigh and lay your head back against his chest and gripping his top while he strokes your hair a bit. He may not agree with what you’re about to say, but after two and a half years, your marriage could only be ended by divorce, a thought you’ve hated since this came into being. You even hated the thought of the annulment plans, and now, you two only had the choices of divorcing or staying married.

“I don’t want a divorce…”

“We’re not gonna. Not now,” Zoro hugs you a little tighter, one arm around your shoulders and the other around your waist as he gives you a kiss on the top of your head, “I won’t let anyone take you away from the crew, even if we stay married forever.”

“Thank you…thank you so, so much, Zoro…”

“Of course. I’d never let anyone force you into anything, wife.”

+!+

You think Fishman Island was one of the fastest “get to city enter battle” events you’ve experienced do far, maybe second only to Sabaody. Your crew was separated almost immediately, you ended up with Nami and she took you to the shops right away, demanding discounts and trying to put cute clothes on you, things she swears Zoro would probably like to see you in with a grin while you shy away and push her off a bit. Admitting to her and Robin that you’re in love with Zoro might have been a mistake, but at least you have people to talk to about the situation.

Of course, though, nothing is easy as a member of the Straw Hats and you all quickly are defending the Ryugyu Kingdom from Hordy Jones, fighting off masses of Fishmen to protect yourselves and the innocent citizens of the kingdom.

While you don’t take out anywhere near as many enemies as Zoro or Sanji, you still fight enough to help keep them at bay, getting some compliments post-battle from your crewmates and some of the citizens. It makes you feel both shy and proud at the same time, your two years of training weren’t a waste after all, even Zoro can see the changes in your fighting style and how well your attacks land now. You don’t look as nervous as you used to either, despite the confidant air you’d put on back then. The little bout you two had when you asked to stay with him, he saw you shaking so badly because you were scared but also still recovering from being sick, you tried your best and Zoro could see that, it’s part of why he had no problem with you following him, especially once you let him start teaching you more about swordsmanship.

You’ve definitely improved from the shaky, scared girl he met four years ago.

You feel like Zoro hasn’t changed at all, despite the scar over his left eye and definitely becoming bulkier, he was still the same to you. Still makes your heart flutter when you watch him fight, he still checks on you after fights, it makes you happy to see he’s still the same. He’s still Zoro, of course he wouldn’t change.

“Hey, come with me for a minute.”

During the celebration that’s being thrown for you all as thanks for saving Fishman Island, Zoro takes your hand leads you off again, just the two of you. It makes you comment that if he keeps taking you away from everyone, someone is going to get the wrong idea, but Zoro just shrugs it off. He doesn’t really care what others think still, you’ve always known that.

Once you’re far enough away from everyone, he guides you to sit beside him before surprising you with what he says next.

“We should talk about our situation.”

The fact Zoro actually wants to discuss what’s going to happen next is the surprise, but you still nod, agreeing with him.

“Change your mind on us divorcing?”

“No, I haven’t,” Zoro brushes a bit of hair behind your ear, placing his hand on your cheek which makes you smile at him, “We’re not divorcing unless you want to, but…I think we should try, you know, dating, or whatever you want to call it…”

You blink a few times, completely confused and shocked before tilting your head.

“…huh? You…what?”

“What, you suddenly going deaf or something?” Zoro pinches your cheek a little which makes you wince and pout, before giving him a glare that makes him smirk at you, “We should try a relationship, forget your parents and our original deal. I…I want to try being your boyfriend.”

You really didn’t expect this, you first thought, like you asked, that Zoro had changed his mind and decided he was done with your fake marriage, but instead, he actually wants to give the two of you a try. Wants to see if this might be something that really could last, not a temporary solution to your personal problems.

While you think it through for a moment, you barely register that Zoro is starting to look nervous, something you’ve never really seen before. Once you make up your mind, before he can say anything more, you lean up and kiss him, pulling away with a smile that Zoro returns.

“I’d love to give us a real try, Zoro.”

Everything is going to be okay, you’re sure of it.

+!+

Sanji and Nami can see a difference in your and Zoro’s relationship quickly after you leave Fishman Island. As you approach Punk Hazard, Zoro doesn’t really let you go, keeping you near to him even as you all draw straws and you end up being one of the group to stay on Sunny and keep watch. Neither of them say anything when he pulls you aside once again, but the smile you have while you talk to Zoro tells them both everything is fine, especially when you nod once more and hug him, which he returns to their surprise.

The two look at each with questioning glances, trying to see if you’ve said anything to the other, but both shrug. Truthfully there’s not been time to talk to either of them, and when the group Zoro’s a part of leaves, the two drag you to the kitchen and start asking questions, which causes you to laugh, but Nami doesn’t really think it’s funny.

“Come oooonnnn,” Nami leans against your arm, giving you a pout, “You guys are acting weird, you can’t tell us something isn’t going on.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about, Nami.”

The blush on your face starts to give you away, and Sanji figures it out, giving you a slight grin.

“Did he finally tell you he likes you back?”

“Mm…something like that.”

“Are you guys dating then?”

“Maybe~” You’re not very good at being coy, to the point Nami gasps and shouts that she knew it before hugging you tightly while you laugh and Sanji sighs, still smiling.

“About damn time. That stupid mosshead, taming two years to tell you anything.”

“Well, all he said was that he wants to try a relationship, so that’s what we’re doing.”

“So he’s your boyfriend!” The little squeal and giggle from Nami makes you join in. “Finally, I told you he liked you back!!”

“Yeah, yeah, you were right!”

Sanji is quiet while he watches the two of you for a few moments. He really does hope that you and Zoro are going to be okay one day, that he’ll stay your husband and neither of you has to deal with the divorce papers or anything like that. He doesn’t want to watch another couple in his life break down, even as you two are just starting out.

Well, minus your two and a half years of actually being married, even though it hasn’t been a real marriage yet. It still isn’t, as you explain after a bit, but your friends seem to get it. You still want things kept under wraps, until Nami brings something up.

“Yeah…umm…about that…”

You give her a confused look as Sanji sighs again.

“Luffy kind of told everyone that didn’t know. It was the day Franky was making comments about you and mosshead being in his bed.”

Groaning, you lean back in your seat before nodding.

“All right then…let’s keep me and Zoro dating between the four of us then?”

“A good idea.”

“At least we can keep a secret.”

#zoro x reader #one piece x reader #reader insert #last forever #fem!reader #roronoa zoro x reader

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hughmanbean · 8 months

Text

Lady Danielle Gotham, nee Phantom

Danny is the Reluctant King Phantom, Essence of Duality, Bringer of Balance, Protector of the Innocent, Victorious Over Plant and Weather Alike, etc. etc.

Dan(te) is the Prince, Cautioning Message, Promonition of Destruction, Wrathful Truth, Experienced Overlord and Conquest, Obsessions Deprived Newly Reborn, etc. etc.

Dani(elle/Ellie) is the Wandering Princess, Widespread Sights, Mirror Turned Painting, and now, most recently, Lady Gotham.

Let's explain.

Ellie has wandered much of their home dimension by now, and even with the Infinite Realms, wants to see an alternate Earth. Clockwork, the doting Grandpa he is, agrees, opening a portal. He says that she can do anything she wants, as long as she doesn't outright obliterate that version. The rest of them see her off, and in she goes.

The first thing she sees is a grave. Though she can't read it, as a woman in black could've been white, so long ago stands in front of it. The woman turns around, and she is

beautiful, shattered, solemn, joyful, mourning, celebrating, ominous, comforting, barely a newly minted town, an old weathered city, and

Tired. So tired. So much has happened, good and bad. She wants to watch her knights grow, to see them flourish. But even a sentient city cannot stay. Too much has changed from before. Too many magics. She has decks of curses, played or kept in her hand, but it is too much. She must reform.

Ellie is approached, and they talk. She's exploring, and this place seems really nice. A bit morbid, perhaps, but nice. Lady Gotham sees potential.

Over a few months they talk, and Lady Gotham gives not only the title, but the very essence of her beloved city to Ellie. She may not reform, and be dispersed. Or she will. But she wants someone to look after it. And Ellie can do that. She's seen so many people and places, understands how complicated it can be, and has a good relationship to the Reluctant King.

Ellie accepts. She's sad to see Lady Gotham go, but knows that nothing can forever. So she decides to check up on Lady Gotham's (who she now is) knights. And those two guys in the sewers. And the other with the bar and birds. And that woman in the catsuit and the assassin one too. All of them, actually. Invisibly, of course. Wouldn't want to do anything stupid.

She also got a cool new outfit! (Created by the essence of Gotham and herself, not that she knows that.) It feels so natural to have it on as she watches. The people she's watching, on the other hand, can feel it. The city's gaze.

Ellie has opinions. I mean, look at Mister Riding Hood! Dirtiest 'plasm she's seen! And the Bat! So many kids! Sewer dudes are actually pretty cool. Fun to hang out with. She's taken to using TVs supplied by Technus and Tucker that she's fed some ecto-essence into to let her watch them. And she's also had small picnics with some of the spirits residing there.

One day, as she's "birdwatching", or just going about her business, they see her. She doesn't notice.

#dp x dc #dc x dp #dp x dc crossover #dpxdc #dp x dc prompt #dani is lady gotham #Oh yeah we're goin there #good parents jack and maddie #Yeah the angst and all that #But Jack would be physically unable to hurt Danny #The moment he learns he's Phantom #Maddie would be so sorry.#She'd make up for it by working with Jack to fix the security systems and give Danny some new gear that works with his ghostliness.#danielle phantom #dan phantom #jazz fenton #Though she is not appearing as of yet.#redeemed vlad #Clockwork Vlad Jack and Maddie all come together once a month at the very least.#What they do can range from talking over board games to eldeutch horror pest control.#Ellie does play around with the deck of curses as a sort of stimming.#This does come back to bite her.#Continuations are very much appreciated.#batfam #danny phantom

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nicksolemnlyswears · 1 year

Text

HAN LUE HEADCANONS

TOKYO DRIFT

pairing: han lue x waitress! reader

word count: 6.3k words

warnings: some smut

notes: after simping for this man for years i’ve finally caved and wrote some headcannons for him.

PT. 2 PT.3

-meeting him...the first time you ever saw han was at work, an american themed diner where you were a waitress. at the time you didn't think much of him, he was just another customer who came in and out. that was until he became a regular.

-once a week became three times a week. next thing you know he was there every night ordering a cup of coffee along with a plain old burger and fries. no pickles.

-han became a familiar face, something to look forward to on your late night shifts. you knew to expect him to come around at 2 or 3 am, never earlier.

-han always scoped the small diner to see which part you were working at and sat there. his excuse was that you already learned his order. "it makes everything so much easier, don’t you agree?" he'd say with a smirk on his handsome face.

-you accepted it. it’s a harmless gesture and you'd rather serve him than the drunk american tourists that swung by the diner. that’s the thing with han, he chose you to serve him but he never acted weird towards you, no inappropriate comments or handsy actions. he made you feel comfortable in his presence, calm even.

-whenever you see him walking by the front of the diner you'd prepare him a fresh pot of coffee. as soon as he sat down on his chosen booth you'd place the steaming cup right in front of him.

-you've made it your mission to tell han how bad consuming one pot of coffee in such a short amount of time is. especially at 3 am but he always shrugs it off, taking a sip of his coffee and locking his eyes with yours, challenging your statement. you’d roll your eyes and mutter a ‘whatever,’ rushing to serve another customer.

-best believe han would watch you walk away to admire your ass, your tacky diner uniform framing it perfectly.

-han tended to order one of two things. either a bacon burger with fries. no pickles. or pancakes drenched in syrup with lots of bacon on the side. with time you get so comfortable with him that when you serve him his food you steal a fry or strip of bacon. its your service fee for being his chosen waitress.

-han is the only one that leaves a tip when he leaves the diner. in tokyo nobody tips, but he insists for the sake of the whole american diner experience. in reality, you're his favorite and he likes you so he doesn't mind dropping a few extra bucks.

-you use that tip money strictly for your manicure. every week a new color covers your nails without fault. han being so observant notices this and looks forward to every thursday to see what color you've chosen. he doesn't make his observation known but he can't help but compliment them when you get your nails done in the same exact orange as his car. pure coincidence because you've never seen his car.

-it takes months of seeing his face for him to make a move of any sort because at first he had no intention of pursuing anything. he went to the diner cause it reminds of home, california. seeing your pretty face was an extra.

-when han gets wrapped up in takashis business and skips a few days he finds himself missing you, wondering what you were up to. if it was a busy night at the diner, were there any rowdy tourists you had to straighten out, and most importantly, what color did you change your nails to?

-one slow night its just the two of you. the cooks are on the back, the other waitress is taking her break. its 4:30 am most drunks are home and the early birds are on their way to the diner

-for once han is sitting on the bar, you across from him, drying mugs and cups. it's now or never. taking one last drink from his coffee han says “you know i have a theory about you.”

“and what’s that?” you ask him, looking up at him through your lashes. your hands busy drying a mug that's already dry.

“you’re a vampire,” he says simply. no smile or sarcastic remark.

laugh bubbles out of you, “han, what the hell?”

only when you laugh does he allow himself to smile. “it’s the only explanation as to why i only see you at nighttime. you’re gone before sunrise too,” he says nonchalantly.

“where is this coming from?” you ask raising an eyebrow, a grin still plastered across your face. the damp towel thrown across your shoulder. you lean forward casually on the counter, coming face to face with the mysterious han.

“just that i’d like to see you during the day time to prove my theory.”

you stare at him, eyes slightly narrowed and he meets straight on. there's no fear in his eyes but there is a hint of expectancy. despite looking at you his hand twirls the remnants of cold coffee in his cup, emanating coolness and nonchalance.

“is this your way of finally asking me out?”

"is it working?" han asks, eyes briefly looking away, before landing on yours again.

"it is," you smile, grabbing a napkin and a pen from your apron to scribble down your number. "text me."

-the date takes place a few days later. han offers to pick you up from your apartment. when you walk out your building han falls harder for you. he always believed you were beautiful even when you barely tried when working at the diner but seeing you out of your uniform all dolled up for him with makeup and hair done. you were more than beautiful, you were stunning.

-you approach him as he leans on his car, trying to act cool. it doesn't make a difference, you already think he's the coolest ever. this is the first time you see his car and it's expensive. you don't know shit about cars but you do have expensive taste and the orange car was ringing alarms in your head.

-one thing is for sure...you have lots to learn about han lue. if all goes well he will not hesitate to tell you all about himself.

-“there you have it i'm not a vampire,” you say as you near him. he chuckles and opens up the door for you. "although i can't promise i don't bite."

“good to know,” he responds in his usual calm tone. your comment does nothing to deter him instead it eggs him on.

-han goes all out for the date. he impresses you with his driving skills, he pays for EVERYTHING, and acts like an outright gentleman. there isn't a red flag on sight. you're not one to put out on the first date but he's treated you so well you heavily consider it.

-something you had never experienced in the past is finding driving sexy. han dominates the car as if its an extension of himself. throughout the entirety of the car ride he's speeding 100 miles and you barely feel it. he swerves between cars to get past them without a beat of hesitation.

-you can look at the streets of tokyo another time. right now your focus is on him. how he grips the steering wheel with one hand, the other on the gear stick. he glances your way and smiles. he knows exactly what he's doing.

-by the end of the date you are more than turned on. the tension between the two of you is intoxicating. you tell yourself you just want to get rid of your dry spell but it’s all a lie. han turns you on in every way possible.

-at the end of the night you shyly invite him into your apartment, hoping he'll say yes and he does. you entertain yourselves with fake pleasantries, asking him if he wants anything, handing him a beer, making small talk.

-the space on your small couch turns smaller and smaller as you both inch towards each other. with one shy glance towards his lips, he takes it as an invitation and smashes his lips against yours. it’s game over. clothes are thrown around, beer is left to warm on the coffee table, and clumsily you make it to your bedroom

-although the moment starts rushed, he slows it down. enjoying your body and everything you had to offer. it's so good you're glad you broke your 'no sex on the first date' rule. because han takes you to highs you haven't experienced in a long, long time

-it’s laying in bed that night that han pops the question, "do you want to be my girlfriend?" he could've waited a few more dates down the road but you two had already skipped a few steps and you've known each other for so long as well. he couldn't wait any longer.

-dating han is unlike anything you expected. first of all you didn't expect him to have so much damn money. it's his treat everytime you go out no matter how much you argue, he already has his card out and manages to pay without you even noticing.

-if you manage to sneak around him and pay, he finds a way to make up for it by buying you stuff you don't need. teddy bears, flowers, jewelry, shoes, clothes, lingerie. okay that last one you really like because it's worth his reaction. he might've picked it thinking it would look good on you but the real thing is so much better.

-now that you're dating, han has even more reason to go see you at the diner. he has his late dinner and gets to chat with you in between serving customers. although your uniform is the definition of an american stereotype he adores it, especially when you pair it with a pair of beat up, high-top red converse that are reserved strictly for work.

-he takes you to the back of the diner to fuck you on your break, it's a given. since he loves your uniform and you are on borrowed time han only lifts the skirt up your hips to have his way with you in it. you brace yourself with your hands on the hard wall, panties pulled to the side, hans hard cock pushing into you from behind. his hands dig onto your hip as he pulls you back to meet his thrusts. the rest of your shift you spend it with sticky panties, a reminder of your activity with han.

-everyone and i repeat everyone knows what you're up. how can they not? you leave looking somewhat put together and comeback with a wrinkled uniform and messed up hair.

-han is such a good boyfriend that he picks up you after your shifts at the diner. either way most of the things he does in his life are at nighttime, waiting for you to finish work at 5 am is nothing. if he so happens to have business he leaves and comes back to pick you up without question. that way he can fall asleep with you in his arms.

-eventually you start wondering where han gets his money, he's never told you he has a job. when you ask him he responds that it's from a job he had in brazil. you don't question it because you refuse to get too in your head about it and ruin something great.

-inevitably you learn about the drifting underground in tokyo and hans participation in it. you're also not interested in that so whenever han invites you to the races, you politely decline. again, cars are not your forte. you'll get bored and wish to go early and you don't want to ruin anything for him.

-it all changes when han brings along an american kid named sean. when the kid finds out you’re his girlfriend the first thing that pops out of his mouth is, “no wonder you never go home with the chicks falling on your lap in the races.”

-your demeanor changes so quick, your smile gone, eyebrow arched, tongue in cheek, glaring intently at han while he avoids your deadly stare. it never crossed your mind that there would be groupies lusting over your man. you're many things and jealous is one of them.

-han begs silently for sean to shut the hell up. bringing him here was a mistake, next time the boy's homesick he’s on his own. until now you've never had a problem with han, if anything there have been stupid fights about him always paying for everything.

-the rest of the time they’re in the diner you act very passive aggressively, smiling at sean but glaring at han. almost slamming his plate on the table, barely any fries on there, while seans has double the amount. for once han has to flag you down to get more coffee to which you pour him a cold cup.

-after dropping off sean at his house he returns to pick you up, finding you walking to the train station when you know he’s gonna pick you up like always does.

“Need a ride?” he asks, sliding the cars window down.

you continue walking, arms hugged to your chest to shield off the cold. the crease on your forehead an indication you are still angry at him. “no.”

“come on, baby. why are you mad?” han parks the car and follows you, grabbing your arm to force you to stop walking.

“because,” you scoff, refusing to meet his eyes.

han holds your shoulder and with two fingers lifts your chin up to look into your eyes, “because?”

“you didn’t tell me that there are girls throwing themselves at you!” you exclaim with a pout, ripping your chin away from his grasp.

“you heard sean. i don’t pay attention to them. i didn’t think it mattered!"

“it does to me!” you yell, punching his chest lightly. “i hate to think that while i’m at home or working you’re out there wooing these girls making them think you’re single and shit.”

“the only girl i’m wooing is you,” han reassures you, grabbing your wrist and pulling you into a hug.

“but they don’t know that,” you say but it comes out muffled as you hug him back and burry your face on his chest. he always smells so nice.

“then come with me to the next race,” he says, rocking you both from side to side.

“fine,” you pout, tilting your head up asking for a kiss. han gladly gives you what you want, slotting his lips between yours and going as far as slipping his tongue in when you part your sweet lips for him. yeah you're standing in the middle of the sidewalk but who cares.

“can i take you home now?”

“please, my feet hurt.”

-as promised han takes you to the next race, to say everyone was in shock to see han arriving with a new pretty girl is an understatement. the girls you call groupies all glared at you from the moment you stepped out, because no matter how hard they tried, you had hans full attention.

-han has always been the mysterious guy in the underground who appeared out of nowhere and became partner with takashi. no one truly knew where he came from. he was seen with tons of girls at the races and was known to have slept with a few of them but none got as far as to be exclusive with him. the girl who achieved this has the underground intrigued.

-you’re intimidated by the whole situation, the girls glaring, the loud roaring of engines, the fast cars whizzing by you. the only comfort is hans arm wrapped around your waist.

-that uncomfortable feeling vanished when a random girl approached han. she fully ignored his arm wrapped around your shoulder and approached him hands all over his chest and free arm. your inner bitch came out. you said things you cannot repeat and sent her the nastiest look. she had no other choice but to run away with her tail between her legs. han enjoyed every moment of it, kissing you in front of everybody to see. your his girl and most importantly he's your boy.

-you didn't return after that day. you had asserted your dominance once and that was enough. to remind people he was still taken you would just leave hickeys all over his neck. that would do it.

-han still leaves you tips, it’s his way to give you your nail money without you refusing profusely. he’d pull you by your apron kiss you, and stick the money down your apron's pocket with two fingers. he wants to keep you pampered and happy. you're repping him now.

-further down your relationship han learns you’re a college dropout. your family forced you into a degree you hated and was not good at and when you tried to switch they cut you off. now you’re a waitress with no money for school. han assures you that you can be so much more than a waitress even without a degree. it’s a matter of my finding your thing. he would know.

-your passion is cooking. your family is wealthy and when you were young they'd take you to the greatest restaurants in japan and asia. your tastebuds have been trained your whole life.

-when han learns of this he asks you to cook for him and offered to be your sous chef. if this was your passion he wanted you to share it with him.

"what do you think?" you ask him, offering him a taste of the sauce you were making.

"it almost tastes as god as you," he replies, kissing your cheek when you blush. he'd been assigned to peel potatoes. that's as far as his ability went either way. he was more than happy to see you waltz around your kitchen chopping vegetables and sprinkling herbs into the pans.

"han, i'm serious," you whine, taking a taste of your creation yourself.

"so am i," he laughs softly, "it tastes really good."

-you want to impress han with your cooking skills. for some reason you feel the need to prove that you're good at something. you prepare your small table with a white tablecloth and skinny candles. you even decorate the dishes with extra herbs and sauces.

-han has been with you the whole time, refilling both of your wine glasses but when you place the plate in front of him, he's at a loss for words. you turned the chaos in the kitchen into this beautiful dish.

-you're cooking is incredible. his palate is not as developed as yours but he can see you owning a restaurant and earning a michelin star for your cooking. there's no hiding how much he enjoyed the mix of flavors you put together. you're a smiley mess for the rest of the night. seeing han enjoy your creation brings you lots of joy.

-from that day on han and you make it a habit to cook dinner once a week at the least. he takes it as an opportunity to learn as well. the more you cook together the more responsibility you let him have. one day you deem him ready to use the fancy knife chef you spent months saving for.

-something else he learned about you is that you are a freak for skin care. you do it in the morning, at night, and if you need some sort of boost during the day you’ll do it again. many times you’ve fallen asleep in his arms only to wake up in the middle of the night to do your routine. han does not understand it but let’s you be.

-because of this he spends a lot of time watching you apply toners and lotions to your face. face masks are a must in your house and to not make han feel excluded you apply one on him too, including the fuzzy headband so his hair doesn’t get in the way. you sit on his lap afterwards and massage it onto his face. he secretly adores it. especially when you peck his lips to signal your done. now at his place he keeps a stash of face masks. japanese, korean, chinese, american, all sorts of face masks.

-hans habit of snacking on chips and crackers doesn’t go past you. when you ask him he replies truthfully he was a heavy smoker and this is his way of coping and getting the edge off.

-you're relieved by his words. you used to suffer from asthma growing up and your mom did nothing to help as she herself was a 2 pack a day kind of woman.

-now your house is stocked with snacks. you have a stash just for han and whenever he’s in your apartment or you guys are going out he takes his pick and stuff them in your small purse. it's led you to have accumulated points in your rewards card from the convenience store. a win win.

-han is the first to say i love you. he had offered to do your skincare routine for you wanting to challenge himself. he believed he had it down to a tee. fully trusting him you closed your eyes and let him do his thing. he pulled through and only made one mistake throughout the whole thing. nothing catastrophic. when he’s done he kisses your pouty lips layered with some sort of berry lip masque and whispers it “i love you.”

you open your eyes and look at him with a smile. it was only a matter of time till either of you confessed. both of your feelings bubbling under the surface. "i love you too.”

-if there is one thing that shook han to the core was learning that you didn’t know how to drive…at all. you're lucky he loves you or it would've been the end of the relationship.

“here. you can drive today,” han says, throwing you his keys as you leave the diner.

you catch them and throw them back, “no, that’s okay. you can drive.” there's more than one reason as to why you don't give a shit about cars and that's that you never learned to drive.

“please baby. i barely slept last night,” han pleads, kissing your cheek and placing the silly tokyo keychain in your palm.

“i don’t want to ruin your car,” you lie through your teeth, shooting him a sickly sweet smile.

“nothing will happen to it,” han insists.

defeated you sigh and reveal one of your most embarrassing secrets you've kept from han, “you don’t understand…i don't know how to drive.”

han goes slack, staring at you in disbelief but nothing about you said you were lying. it would explain why you've never asked to drive or why you always take the train or bus.

he can't live knowing his girlfriend can't drive. his life depends on his ability to drive and out of all the girls in tokyo he picked one that never found it important to learn.

nodding he takes the keys away from you and opens the passenger door for you to get in. “as soon as i get some sleep i’m teaching you to drive.”

-first thing the next day han has you behind the wheel in an empty parking lot. you’re sweating buckets, nervous. You’re not even in hans expensive car, he brought out a beat up car for you to practice on.

-"driving is as easy as riding a bike," those are hans words as he starts his driving lesson. he doesn't need to know you don't know how to ride a bike either.

"the pedal on the right is gas the one on the left is the brake. you need to press the gas lightly…baby you need to change the shift to drive first,” han says when you press on the gas and the engine revs.

“i can’t do this han. we're going to crash and we'll get hurt or worse...die," you ramble on, trying to unbuckle the seatbelt.

han rolls his eyes and grabs your hands to place them back on the steering wheel, “yes, you can. it’s important for emergencies.”

with a shaky hand you change the gear to drive and step on the gas lurching the car forward. instantly regretting it you slam on the brakes, jostling the both of you violently.

han breathes out loudly, his hands pressed against the dash to steady himself, “slowly, gently.”

out of all the crazy, stupid shit he’s done in the past this is the most scared he's felt about losing his life. you're not a quick learner by any means. just after a short hour he decides it's been enough. you barely managed to get the car running without going 40 miles instantly. don't get him started on how you brake. you don't seem to understand the meaning of gentle.

-han is as much of a taker as he is a giver. he can be the most doting boyfriend ever and suddenly have you on your knees using your mouth as he sees fit, leaving you a mess of saliva and cum.

-you seriously don't mind. that man gives you so much not only material things but love and orgasms. you're more than happy to get bruised knees if it means he's enjoying himself.

-nobody would expect it from him but he's very adventurous in bed, han is always up to trying new things he's read on the internet or hear people talking about. most times it's a success and you incorporate it into your sex lives.

-one thing he had to convince you to do was to give him blowjobs while he drove at ridiculous speeds. you agreed to try it once and it went so well it's become a not uncommon occurrence. most times it’s when you're driving aimlessly with nowhere to go.

-he'd start at a normal speed, let's say 60 miles an hour. you'd lean over the center console and unzip his pants. han would already be sporting a semi knowing what's coming. you'd pump his cock on your hand, letting your spit dribble down as lubrication.

-once he's fully hard you'd lick him base to tip. he'd be going up 90 by then. he can only afford quick glances down to where you're squeezing his cock. when you take him into your mouth he steps harder on the pedal, 100 on the dash.

-the deeper you go the faster the car goes. han leans his head back on the seat to try and control himself. a hand leaving the steering wheel to press against your head.

-the speed of the car and the pleasure of your mouth bring han to highs he's never explored before. when he slows to an acceptable speed you lift yourself to settle back on your seat, buckling your seatbelt. the taste of cum on your tongue.

-han's the type of boyfriend who isn’t so much into hand holding in public. he’s more of a hand around the waist or arm around shoulders guy.

-when you’re fucking though? oh, he’d lace his hands through yours. he's thrusting into you? both or one of his hands is intertwined with yours. he's eating you out? one hand extended to grab one of your boobs and the other in yours. maybe that's why he can't do it in public...it reminds him of more intimate moments.

-when you go awol your friends know there must be a new man on your life and they beg to meet him. they're all pleasantly surprised at the looks of him, especially when the two of you arrive in an expensive sports car and he offers to pay for everyones lunch.

-they are happy for you. it's been a long time since you've dated anyone, your last break up leaving you terribly heart broken. they can all see han loves you and that you love him. it's clear in their eyes this is not about money or lust.

-sean lets it slip that han has a girlfriend and twinkie begs to see who she is. sean agrees to take him to the diner where they sit at one of the booths being served by the other waitress. he points you out as you take someone else's order. twinkie and sean naively believe you haven't spotted them.

-twinkie doesn't fully believe sean just yet. he's having a hard time processing that han has a secret girlfriend, then again when was the last time he saw han hook up with a girl? a long time.

-like most nights you work, han makes an appearance. you have his cup of coffee on the counter and greet him with a peck on the lips as you stretch over it to meet him in the middle.

"your friends are over there," you whisper, softly signaling with your head in their direction.

han looks over at them. sean and twinkie pretend they are engaging in a very interesting conversation and they weren’t staring at han and you. "i'm sorry. have they caused you any trouble?"

"nah, they think i haven't noticed them gawking," you laugh, still leaning over the counter. "should we give them a show?"

"later," han says, tucking a rogue stand of hair behind your ear.

you lean into his touch, a graceful smile blooming from your lips, "as soon as mina gets here we can go." you softly tell him, eager to get out of the diner and go home where you can cuddle with han. there's barely a night you spend apart.

-han easily strikes a conversation with you to pass the time. he tells you about his friends all over the world and the places he's been. in your eyes han is the most interesting man in the world so you hang onto every word he says.

-when the other waitress relieves you of your shift you grab your jacket and meet han by the door. twinkie and sean are still in their little booth, sneaking glances at the two of you. han finally acknowledges them by nodding in their direction and grabbing you by the back of your neck, kissing you deeply. you lean into it, wrapping your arms around his sides. he pulls apart with his teeth biting your lower lip, hands trailing down to your ass to give it a squeeze. making sure your skirt is on place with a little tug, he opens the door for you. as you walk out he sends the boys a little shrug and a smirk, following you outside.

-sean and twinkie sit in their booth, mouth agape at the spectacle han put on. in their head you're way out of his league. you're too hot. their waitress glares at them as she slams the check on their table. they've been there too long.

-the next day at han's garage twinkie tells everyone. “yo han why didn’t you tell us about your girl?”

han doesn't look up from his magazine as he responds, “i didn’t realize i answered to you."

earl and reiko look up from the car they are working on to stare at han. they didn't realize han had a girlfriend, he's always been a...free spirit. not one to settle for just one girl. then again they've only known about his life in tokyo not brasil, or the dominican republic, or california.

“out of courtesy, man! what if i had hit on her?” twinkie says jokingly. not going to lie had he seen you around he probably would've tried to get with you.

“i doubt you would’ve gotten far,” han mutters, taking a swig of his beer bottle. he likes keeping his private life, private. he likes having you all to himself. that way no one can use you against him if something were to happen.

“bring her around, han!” reiko tells han. "i'd love to have another girl around."

“eh, maybe one of these days,” han dismisses them, standing up and heading out to look for sean. they've got business to tend to.

-han is both an ass guy and a boob guy. it all depends on the situation. in public he’s more of an ass guy. he loves watching you walk away, the sway of your hips capturing his attention.

-when he kisses you on public he’ll trail a hand down your body to squeeze your ass lovingly. he's the type to walk with a hand in your back pocket. letting everyone know you're his.

-in private though he’s a massive boob guy. han likes laying in your chest, finding your boobs comfortable. if you're cuddling he'll bring a hand under your shirt (which is probably his anyway) and just caress your tits. he’ll play with your nipple, brushing it with his thumb. it’s not very sexual but it can turn sexual if you wanted.

-han would definitely bring up the idea of you getting nipple piercings. he finds them so hot and he knows they’d look great on you. is the pain worth it? probably. he promised he’d be there with you to hold your hand, he even offered to pay for them. it’s still an idea you’re heavily debating.

-the day you meet hans friends comes too quickly to his liking. you had left your phone in his car by accident and you were going out with your friends. before heading to a new club downtown you stopped by his garage. everyone stopped what they were doing to see who was in the SUV. out the passengers sear came out a high heeled foot and a long leg first quickly followed by the other.

-you walked out looking like a three course meal. hair and makeup done and hair flowing down your back like silk. a short black dress hugged your body, a slit on the side that came up high but not high enough to reveal anything important.

-you slam the car door behind you, entering the garage filled with cars and strangers. you're nervous yet your beautiful looks hid it well. spotting a familiar face you strut towards him. "sean...have you seen han?"

"up-upstairs," sean manages to choke out. pointing to the second level of the garage.

"thanks," you smile at him. you walk past twinkie, winking at him for shits and giggles.

the rest see you walk up the stairs gracefully, surprised that nothing could be seen despite the dress being so short. han's sits in a desk, handling money from his and takashis business.

"hey handsome," you purr, nearing him.

han hadn't heard you come in so when he looks up and sees you looking like that he does a double take. he pushes off the desk, the rolling chair making enough space for you to sit on his lap.

"you look beautiful," he says, caressing your exposed thigh with his fingers. "what're you doing here?"

"i forgot my phone in your car and i'm going out with mindy and the girls," you tell him, grabbing his face on your hands to kiss his lips. it slow and contained as you're careful not to ruin your lipstick.

"you sure you have to go?" han whispers, his palm grabbing a handful of your ass.

"i do, the girls are not happy i've missed several girls night," you tell him. running a hand through his hair.

he looks up at you and says, "alright." han carefully stands up, placing you back on your high heeled feet. he makes his way down the stairs to where his car is parked.

you follow after him until a girl intercepts you, "hi! i'm reiko one of han's friends, it's so nice to finally meet you!"

"nice to meet you too," you say reciprocating her enthusiastic smile.

"here you go," han pops up besides you once again, handing you your phone.

"thanks," you smile at him.

"i should get going before mindy starts honking her horn," you scrunch up your nose.

"you should come around again soon," reiko says, excited that there's finally another girl in the garage that isn't one of the models twinkie and han are used to bring around.

"sure!" you agree with the girl, finding her nice and genuine.

"let me walk you out." han grabs your waist as you walk back towards your friends car. he opens up the door for you as you slip in.

before driving away you lower the window and he leans against the the car, popping his head in. "you girls be safe, call me if you're too drunk to drive."

mindy rolls her eyes at han, "don't worry lover boy. we'll have her back in her apartment before sunrise."

your friend allows you to give han one last peck before she starts closing the window and driving away, "bye!"

-that night han waits for you in your apartment. he hears you before he sees you. the door slamming open startles him and in you stumble with a tipsy mindy holding you up. "i brought her back safe and sound. she's your problem now."

"baby!" you yell, letting go of mindy and falling into his embrace. you kiss him all over his face and hug him close.

"you had a good time?" he asks, looking down at you. your eye makeup is smudged and your lipstick is long gone. you can barely keep your eyes open as you stumble over your words.

"lets go get you ready for bed."

-i repeat, han is a great boyfriend. he takes you to the bathroom and sits you on the counter. he follows your skin care routine, taking off the layer of makeup left on your face. you giggle through it all even as he helps you brush your teeth and apply you lip balm.

-he guides you back to the bedroom, taking off your dress so you sleep comfortably. he takes off your bra as well, the metal decorating your nipples glinting under the artificial light. grabbing one of his tshirts you've adopted he slides it over your head and arms.

-han tucks you into bed and he promptly follows to pull you close to his chest. you've stopped giggling by now, snuggling up to him. "i love you," you whisper, wrapping an arm around his waist.

-"i love you more, baby."

part 2. part 3.

i’ll also accept requests for han if anyone is interested!

#han lue #han seoul oh #fanfiction #headcanon #tokyo drift #fast and furious #han lue imagines #han lue imagine #han lue headcannons #fast and furious fanfiction #han lue x reader #han lue fanfiction #han lue fanfic #han lue headcanons

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