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bettysupremacy · 5 months

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hii! I was wondering if you could write a fic with reader and any marauder (they all fit) and maybe helping or becoming protective over the reader after a concert or party after a creep follows the reader? 😭

I went through a similar experience with a guy following me around after I went to the restroom after a concert, and it ruined my night if i'm being honest, I was scared 😞 I'm not the most shy of people and usually I can handle myself but it was pretty dark and idk the adrenaline from feeling happy to scared shifted pretty quickly. Luckily I found my friends and let them know and we quickly went back to our car (along with a few dirty looks from my friends god bless lol). I swore I could go to the restroom by myself- will not be doing that again :(

you can ignore this request if it makes you uncomfortable!

thank uu

i’m so sorry that happened to you! “(they all fit)”= poly marauders!

There’s something about post concert depression, especially when you’re with the band.

Your glitter eyeshadow is smudged, eyeliner untouched. You’d been shaken around in the pit of your boyfriends fans, and yet the paint hasn’t budged. God bless water-proof makeup. The world seems prettier like this, touched by alcohol and the feeling of soaring pride for your boyfriends. The glittery lights and signs of time square never fail to dazzle you, even now as you lean against Sirius morosely.

“M’hungry.” You frown, toes tipping up towards Sirius, though you fear the mumble may have been more for yourself.

His attention is diverted towards the boys as they discuss what to do now. Plans of how to get home and where to eat. His finger taps your cheek slowly, his focus paying you no mind. Words like Uber, hotel, room service echo throughout their very repetitive conversation.

“Sirius.”

He looks down, a little shocked and sorry at his own attention. “Yes, lovely?”

“M’hungry.”

“Hungry?” He asks, cringing. You’re about thirty minutes from the hotel, and even then, room service will take another thirty.

“So hungry.”

He sighs, unsure of what to do.

“There’s a hotdog stand over there.” You grab his tattooed bicep to balance yourself as you point to your right.

He thinks, peering down at you. “This won’t ruin your dinner?” It’s midnight, but still.

“No,” you sing, reaching up to cup his cheeks. “I really want a hotdog.

He flushes, looking away from your wandering eyes. Normally he wouldn’t let you out of his sight. They would never let you out of their sight in a place like this. But the cart is in eye view of the boys, and he has faith in you not to stray, even in your inebriated manor. It’s not that they don’t trust you, they just prefer to keep you safe themselves. Is that okay?

“Okay,” He murmurs, pulling out his wallet, handing you his card. “At least get the good toppings.”

“I always get the good toppings.” You pull away.

The walk is short and the cart is colorful. Red and white stripes, curvy calligraphy. It shines in your inebriated vision. Beautiful. The queues not long, just an older man waiting in front of you, but it feels like forever as the generous man (with the toppings as well) takes your order and wraps it in warm aluminum foil.

You take the hotdog eagerly. “Thank you.”

It’s heavy in your hands, warm too. You yell Sirius’ name excitedly, waving the hotdog above your head for him to see. He laughs, thumbs up until you bump into a man, smile fading, concern etching his brows.

“Oh,” you murmur, looking up. “I’m sorry.”

“No problem,” he smiles. It’s uncomfortable, not the smile of a friendly civilian.

You laugh. It’s polite, anyone can see that, but he leans closer. He smells like liquor, a disgusting discovery that has you subconsciously leaning away.

“You new around here?”

An actual laugh stumbles out of your lips. “London? No.”

He takes this as an entrance. “You should show me around.”

“No, thank you.” You try to walk past him. Towards Sirius who’s already walking over. “Goodnight.”

“Wait,” he grabs your arm, pulling you back. His fingers dig into your elbow painfully.

“What the fuck,” you gasp, pulling your arm away roughly. “don’t touch me.”

“C’mon,” The man slurs, fingers reaching for you again. “Don’t be-“

“Hello?” Sirius walks up, all stock. He grabs your forearm pulling you to him firmly, getting in between you and the man. He’s not much taller, but more intimidating in demeanor. “Do we have a problem?”

“No,” the man scoffs.

“Cause it looks like you put your hands on her.”

He scoffs again, clearly inebriated. “We were just talking.”

“Well, conversations over now.”

“She can make her own decisions.”

“Fuck off, bro.” Sirius waves his hand dismissively. Quickly, he walks you towards the boys who are peeking their eyes up from the Uber app.

“She was asking for it.”

Sirius reels back, dropping your forearm to shove the scary stranger in the chest. He pushes hard, the man losing his balance as he falls to the ground in a sickening thud. You gasp loudly, the unexpected conflict startling you. Vaguely you hear Sirius say something to him, but you’re too focused on the way the man looks up at you.

James and Remus are there in seconds, quick on Sirius’s heels. They pull at him, up and off the man. There were no real punches thrown, no real injuring blows, it wasn’t even enough to form a crowd. But still, you’re shaken. You shiver like a leaf under your James’ leather jacket, suddenly not feeling the warmth of the alcohol you’d consumed before the concert.

Slowly, you stumble back and way from your boys, to the bench next to the shitty bar you’d passed on your way home. That had been scary, but you’re safe; that had been scary, but Sirius dealt with it. You bring your hand up to your chest, setting the hotdog you had been eager to buy down next to you.

“Hi,” Remus pushes aside the hotdog to sit next to you. “Are you okay?”

You look up to the boy, blindingly beautiful in the streetlights and advertisements. “Yes.”

He pushes some stray hair from your face. “He didn’t hurt you?”

“I think it was more startling.” James sits on the other side of you, kissing your temple firmly. “I’m sorry he did that.”

“It’s okay, I’m okay.”

“She’s okay.” Sirius gruffs from where he walks over.

He sounds cooler than he thinks he looks. He’s not bruised, bloodied, or bandaged, if he were he thinks he’d look cool enough to breeze over. But then again you look mad, so maybe he doesn’t want that.

“Don’t be upset,” Sirius crouches to your level. You’re in the arms of a solid Remus. “he was a creep.”

“Are you hurt?”

“Are you trying to tell me something?” He laughs roguishly. “I thought I looked good tousled.”

He does, and you know he’ll look good on the tabloids tomorrow too. Sirius black gives black eye? You sigh at the thought.

“You do.” James feeds Sirius.

“At least someone in this relationship cares for my ego.”

“You look good.”

“Oh, now you tell me.”

You laugh, letting Sirius stare at you like you hung the moon.

“Kiss em?” He pushes his knuckles in front of your lips. His fingers throb lightly, you can feel it on your lips.

“That was stupid.”

“C’mon,” Sirius’ eyes roll as he pulls you up. “You’ve got a hotdog to eat.”

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ajaefreelancing · 2 years

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#Virtual assistants were first introduced to the business world in 2009 by Tim Ferriss #author of “The 4-Hour Work Week.” Ferriss taught readers how to work less by outsourcing repetitive or disagreeable tasks to an offshore co #and more time doing what matters to you most like travel and adventure.#The idea caught on and with it all kinds of virtual assistant businesses and freelancers offering their services—so many that trying to fin #There are many ways to hire #use and optimize virtual assistants #onshore and offshore #and this guide will help you sort through the options and find the right solution for you and your business.

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miguel-owhora · 6 months

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simon 'ghost' riley who behind the walls and masks and secrecy, is actually not the monster those he works with - outside the 141 at least - paint him out to be.

simon who has a collection of mesmerized dad jokes that he'll pull out with the most monotone and flattest voice ever, whose eyes twinkle in mirth when you groan at him and go on a rant about how bad his humor is, who'll crack a smile and chuckle. simon who doesn't necessarily find them funny, only likes dad jokes because of the reaction he gets from others.

simon who has a soft spot for animals, especially dogs. who'll always stop to pet them, to call them 'good lass/lad' even if they're just sitting there and letting him pet them, who probably ends up getting a dog or two of his own, his black clothing laced with dog hair. he'll complain when you eventually drag him to the petting zoo, but he goes quiet when you find him surrounded by lambs, all bleating at him. and it makes your heart flutter at the image, of this large, hulking man with blood and death on his hands, gently petting a lamb, the very animal of pure innocence.

simon who doesn't like mornings and will refuse to get up if it's the weekends. oh, you're busy that day? cancel all plans because simon will roll over and wrap himself around your body and drag you underneath the blankets. he'll smile, eyes crinkling in mirth and affection, and hold you tighter when you try to wiggle free. simon who fiddles with your matching wedding band, feeling a surge of warm affection flood through him at the idea of being married to the love of his life, that this is his reality, and it's one he wouldn't change for the world.

simon who doesn't cook because he'll burn his neighborhood down, and instead opts to watch you. he'll be your guinea pig for any new recipes, and surprisingly, despite how fucking white he is, his stomach is made of steel and can handle pretty much anything. still, he'll give his honest opinion and tell if it needs more seasoning or if it's good. and while he doesn't cook, he'll do his part and clean up afterwards.

simon whose love language is acts of service and/or quality time. he's more than happy to clean up after a good meal, and he finds the other chores grounding. it's repetitive and it's familiar, and there's something safe about it, yk? and something as simple as sitting next to you or watching you cook, or even sitting outside the bathroom whilst you do your skincare makes him feel warm and happy. he just likes to be around you, even if he doesn't talk sometimes and goes nonverbal, and well follow you around like a puppy. he enjoys going with you whenever you're out doing errand runs.

simon who's a passenger princess. this mf cannot drive, so you're the one who takes up the drive. but he's a passenger princess and whenever one of the other boys come to visit, he'll literally haul them out of the seat because that's his. he won't let anyone take it, especially not when you're driving.

simon who finds life after retirement calm, who enjoys the domestic life with you. he finds comfort in the smallest things. he finds comfort in you.

#simon ghost riley x male reader #simon riley #simon ghost x reader #simon riley x reader #simon ghost riley #simon riley x you #simon x reader #simon ghost x you #ghost riley #ghost.txt #ghost mw2 #ghost cod #ghost x y/n #ghost x you #ghost x male reader #ghost x reader #simon ghost x male reader

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slamminslamminmcgill · 3 months

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joel’s pussy eating game is RIDICULOUS!!!!! he claims to be into servicing ppl and he is but…. it’s more in service of himself tbh bc of how selfish and hungry he is

warning: squirting, oral, rimming

anatomical terms: cunt/pussy, clit/t-dick

he’ll start slow to ease you into it. long, broad strokes of his flattened tongue up your slit. wet kisses dotting your clit. lots of spit to get you nice and wet for his tongue to just glide along your cunt however which way he sees fit.

and once your own juices start to flow, loosening you up for him, it’s blood to a shark. one drop hits his tongue and he’s GONE.

“fuckin’ christ, you taste good. yeah… yeah, i need more of that.”

joel smushes his face into your pussy, his stubble prickling your hypersensitive skin, and he fucking LATCHES his mouth on your clit, bouncing his lips off your sodden flesh as he sucks you off. soon you’re leaking enough that he can slide two fingers into you with ease. he curls them up into your g-spot and keeps them there, pushing your button over and over to get you to burst.

and may god help you if you squirt.

it splashes against his face and you hear a deep, rumbling, feral growl. it’s the sexiest sound you’ve ever heard from a man. one that reminds you of our basest urges, that we are naught but beasts at heart. horny fucking beasts possessed by pheromones and need.

“fuck yeah, c’mon. c’mon, gimme another.” he demands, starting his fingers right back up again, right into the swollen trigger point that has you gushing over and over. a firm hand cuts through the typhoon with a loud-

(SMACK)

on the meat of your ass.

“sit on my face. i wanna drink you.”

you peel yourself off his leather couch, knees buckling like a newborn fawn as you stand, and hobble over to where he’s laying on the carpet. he’s frantic, aggressive and repetitive in his orders.

“get over here... get over here, boy... get over here…”

your knees flank his head, facing his legs, and you lower yourself down until your pussy bumps his nose. he starts licking right away. you look down and his cock is throbbing, an angry shade of red. being that he’s been so generous to you, you see fit to return the favor. you lean down and take his cock in your hands, though you barely get to kiss it before joel intervenes.

“nope.”

he hooks his arms under your armpits, grabs you by the shoulders, and YANKS you backwards, pulling your face away from his cock and holding your back upright.

“nuh uh. fuck my face. i want you to use me. don’ worry ‘bout my cock, sweetheart, just fuck my face.”

you hesitantly hump his face, tiny jerks of your hips to get used to the feeling and get a rhythm down. as you grow accustomed to it, your soaked cunt easily glides across his face, your swollen t-dick bumps his lips and he sucks it in his mouth. his tongue swipes between your pussy and ass, your juices dripping down his cheeks.

eventually, you squirt again, just a tiny bit.

but it’s not enough.

“give it to me.” joel barks, and shoves his fingers back in for some not-so-gentle encouragement. “c’mon, kid, give it to me. squirt down my fuckin’ throat, c’mon. lemme drink you. gimme somethin’ sweet to drink, baby boy.”

you give him exactly what he wants, squirting right into his mouth in hot jets. his growl vibrates your entire cunt and he slurps it all up.

when it gets to be too much, you roll off him and onto the floor. the two of you lay side by side, gasping for air. his face is dripping, his wet hair resting on an incriminating wet spot on the carpet. you’re staring at the ceiling as it swirls, creating beautiful constellations in combination with the stars in your vision. joel reaches out and tugs you close to him. his overworked lips smooch your forehead, and he says,

“good boy. hottest thing i’ve ever seen in my fuckin’ life.”

#shoutout to dilf irl for the inspiration 💖😌 mwah #joel miller #joel miller x reader #joel miller headcanon #joel miller smut #joel miller imagine #tlou #tlou x reader #tlou smut #the last of us x reader #the last of us smut #the last of us

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suntoru · 6 months

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─ ✰ BREWING AFFECTION.

✧˚ · . NAGI SEISHIRO loves sleeping, soccer, and gaming. he also doesn’t mind you coffee too.

— warnings: coffee shop! au, fluff, crackfic, reo hating on readers barista skills, downbad nagi (hes oblivious af), maybe ooc?

— author’s note: NOT TUMBLR BUTCHERING THE QUALITY OF MY HEADER. THIS IS NOT OK.

"…so… this was the coffee shop you were talking about?” reo probes nagi tentatively, face crinkled in slight confusion. the small café nestled in the hidden corner of some obscure street— nothing extravagant, and certainly not what he expected. it’s a quiet sanction, only a few patrons savoring the quiet ambience of the modest establishment.

"mhm," nagi hums in affirmation. his eyes are glued to his screen, fingers violently tapping his phone as he skillfully maneuvers through the critical attack from the boss battle. reo doubts he was listening to a word he was saying. he raises his eyebrows skeptically, surveying the surroundings of the quaint little shop. he’s well aware nagi sacrifices fifteen whole minutes of his precious sleep on wednesdays and saturdays to walk all the way here— there must, has to be something special about this place. yet all he can spot are a couple of worn-down couches, cute decorations, and the smell of grinding beans in the air; nothing particularly stands out.

'is the coffee just that good?' reo wonders to himself, his thoughts interrupted when you hastily set a tray down at their table. your hair is tied in a messy bun, name tag displayed largely at the side of your stained apron. "i'm so sorry— morning rush! two triple foam lattes, half a shot of espresso with a dash of cinnamon, right?" the words tumble out, an apology and a question all in one, accompanied by a warm aura that absolutely nobody else in customer service seemed to carry.

…that’s… not…. even close… he deadpans. “um, actually—” he starts, but is quickly interrupted by nagi cutting him off. “t’s good. thanks.” he mutters, hazy half-lidded grey eyes boring into your oblivious, starry-eyed ones. the tips of his ears turn the slightest bit pink as he blows a tuft of his hair out of his eyes. his phone is completely discarded, ‘GAME OVER.’ pixelated largely on his screen as reo’s eyes widen slightly. …did he… die on purpose? no way. but… he was just about to beat the whole game…?

you smile giddily. finally, you got an order right!! “really? i’m so glad! enjoy your drink!” you eagerly exclaim as you walk away, feeling encouraged to pump out the other orders.

“…we ordered two large macchiatos.” nagi shrugs lazily, fiddling with the plastic straw in his drink. “tastes the same. ‘t’s too much of a hassle to correct them.”

“whatever,” reo sighs, “we’ve been waiting thirty minutes for this— it better make my mouth orgasm.” thirstily taking a huge slurp of the drink, he lets the coffee settle for a moment before not so subtly gagging at the aftertaste. how can someone possibly screw up this badly? it tastes like… tepid brown water. this should be a war crime. no offense, but who thought it was a good idea to hire you? “uhm… it’s *retches* certainly an acquired flavour…” he represses another gag as the fluffy white haired male tunes him out once again.

as reo contemplates the questionable quality of his latte, nagi remains blissfully unaware of his own feelings, doing what he does every wednesday and saturday morning— unconsciously admire you from a distance, his attention shifting from reo to you. his fingers idly trace the ridges on the rim of the cup, distractedly watching as you struggle to get the coffee to start brewing.

and he can’t exactly understand why his heart is beating out of his chest (perhaps he’s having a stroke), why his face is tinted red (is it the cold nipping at his cheeks?), or why he only seems to want coffee when you’re there (it simply tastes different). it all doesn’t make sense to nagi’s simple little life, a simple repetition every day; sleep, soccer, game.

nagi seishiro finds the easiest of tasks to be a hassle. yet for some strange reason, waking up early on wednesdays and saturdays isn’t one of them.

©kaeffeinee 2023. do not copy, repost, or translate any of my works on any platform.

#blue lock x reader #blue lock x y/n #blue lock x you #nagi x reader #nagi x y/n #nagi x you #bllk x reader #bllk x y/n #bllk x you #nagi seishiro x reader #nagi seishiro x y/n #nagi seishiro x you #blue lock fluff #blue lock #nagi fluff #bllk fluff #bllk drabbles #coffee shop! au

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kenjakusbraincum · 6 months

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Hi, i can’t help but request this because you write so beautifully.

So I just had the idea of a former ballerina being sacrificed to Sukuna. She does her work good and gracefully but she longs for old times where she was able to dance and feel like she’s flying again. So she does it in the evening in Sukunas garden. He of course notices and as culture lover he is he makes her his personal dancer. And a cute lil love story forms from this scenario.

I would be so thankful if you form this to a proper story because i don’t have enough imagination. Love your work

Thank you for the compliment! I apologize in advance for my butchered descriptions of dance scenes and hope you like what I came up with anyways <3

Swan Lake

Sukuna x Reader

Word count: 6.3k

Tags/warnings: gn! reader but the words maid, whore and bitch are used, true form! sukuna, bullying, fluff with a very brief and soft smut scene at the end!

Sukuna doesn't care where his servants come from. People get offered to him all the time, and he takes them when he feels his palace is understaffed. And that happens quite often, considering how eagerly Sukuna gets rid of his servants for the smallest inconveniences. His staff is disposable to him, having no value beyond the services they provide him with.

So he doesn't know about your past. He doesn't know you were once an esteemed entertainer. He doesn't know that you were touring the world, sharing your art with audiences of all different classes and ranks in society. He doesn't know you were once the star of the stage, hypnotizing people with the fluidity of your movements in rhythm with the music. He doesn't know you were snatched from fame, taken against your will and brought to him to pay your capturer's debt. You're not sure he's even properly looked at you, much less heard your capturer tell him who you are. You were that worthless to him.

Now you are but a maid. You spend your days on your knees, mopping blood soaked floors. At night, you share chambers with dozens of other servants. Privacy is a foreign concept in Sukuna's palace. You are not entitled to it even in the bathroom. Everything is shared for the servants. There's no space for you to even try to indulge in your beloved profession, even as a hobby. Except...

The garden. Most servants are in bed, prepared to sleep, but your eyes linger on the windows. In every way, going to the garden would be to your own detriment. Losing sleep was dangerous, it could lead to getting caught slacking off, or being ratted out about it. And the consequences for that... well. One could only imagine it wouldn't be a simple slap on the wrist.

Still, you longed for this. The work you did during the day drained you, it was repetitive and soulless. You weren't made to clean floors. You were made to dance, it was your destiny. Since childhood, you don't remember a period of time as long as this one, where you haven't had the opportunity to enjoy your passion. Tears stung your eyes as this revelation found you. Every day, you could feel your life slipping through your fingers. You were alive, but your energy, your liveliness, your personality, all of it was dissipating in the pools of blood you were forced to clean.

''Can you be quiet? Some of us are trying to sleep.'', a servant who sleeps in the bed next to yours snaps you out of your thoughts. You are sobbing. You apologize quickly, and snuggle in bed, trying to muffle the noises against your deflated pillow.

But sleep just doesn't take you that night. You grow more and more frustrated, as time passes and you toss and turn in bed. Eyes wide open, fixed to the window across you. The garden lures you, calls for you. Damn it. You have to try. This is not much of a life anyways, you think. Sooner or later Sukuna or Uraume would find faults in what you're doing anyways, and you'd be served for dinner. You don't exactly have a lot to lose.

Sneaking out of the chambers is easy. You spent your whole life on your tippy toes. No one moves in their sleep as you cross the room, open the door and slide through the crack. Quietly, you make your way around the mansion. Outside, you're greeted by a light summer breeze. The garden is eerily peaceful, lit by the moonlight in this late hour.

You start to warm up, hopping, circling your neck, swinging your legs. Feeling the stretches in muscles you forgot you had. The grass tickles your legs as you splay across the ground and reach for your feet. Then stand and shift your weight to your toes, feeling out how rusty you've gotten in the time you've missed out on practicing. It's not too bad.

So you start out slow. The music plays in your head and you mouth silently, counting the rhythm. Your eyes are glued to the ground, you're trying not to trip and fall on the uneven surface. Your movement feels as smooth as it did before, but you can't see yourself in the mirror to check your form. You close your eyes, surrendering to the cadence of your motions. The music carries you, and as you turn into a poised second arabesque, time seems to slow. It's only a moment, but when you turn back to continue...

Slam. So hard you start to fall back, but his arms catch you around the waist. If you weren't scared out of your mind you would've wondered how did he even show up there without you noticing. But of course, he's Sukuna. You look at him with eyes so wide you think they may fall out, and he stares back with an amused smirk. Then he bites the air in front of you, clanking his sharp teeth together, and you scream in response. His hand flies to your mouth in an instant and he shuts you up.

"Quiet now. You wouldn't want to wake your colleagues up, would you?", he tilts his head, observing your terrified expression. "Or do you want everyone to slack off with you tomorrow?"

"I-I won't slack off I promise!!!", you panic, hands shaking as you bring them up in a defensive stance. Tears pool in your eyes as you stare death in the face. He is... weirdly beautiful, lit by the moonlight. And he holds you sturdily, but gently. It doesn't hurt. And he doesn't seem particularly mad.

"Is that so?", he asks. There's a smile on his face, but it feels dangerous, threatening. Like everything else about him. "Then just what do you think you're doing outside at this hour?"

"I was- I was dancing -", you stutter, struggling to form coherent sentences. Why are you so close to him? You're pulled flush against him. You can almost feel his -

"I didn't know I had a dancer in my ranks. Why didn't you say so?", he says, and surprisingly lets go of you.

You're so sure he's playing with his food. You're so sure he's going to slice you into pieces. You've already crossed so many lines, broken so many rules. You look to the ground, only now remembering eye contact with him was strictly forbidden.

"Speak.", he growls, audibly irritated by your refusal to reply.

You didn't think he was genuinely asking. What the hell are you supposed to say? Why didn't you say so? Maybe because you wanted to see the light of day again? "I ... A lowlife such as myself has no place speaking to your Highness.", you duck your head low in an apologetic manner. And he seems satisfied, smiling playfully again. Except you don't see it, you feel it. Sukuna's presence pulls the most demeaning, self-depricating things out of people's mouths.

"Humble.", he comments and walks a couple steps around you. He's huge. "Go on then, dance for me."

You stand frozen. It's not that you're ashamed... you've performed for audiences bigger than you ever could've imagined. But the weight of his stare is harder to bear than that of hundreds. And the stakes are higher than ever. He has to like it, or else...

"Dance!", he orders sternly, and crosses his arms over his chest. So you give it your all. Remembering where he interrupted you, you get back into position and start. Dance. Your life depends on it, doesn't it? Well if there's one thing you can do to save your life it should be this.

But it's not like before. Fear seeps into every muscle in your body, and your movements are unsure. Every jump is fleeting, every landing shaky. Tears blur your vision, and it's so hard to keep your breathing steady when you're struggling not to cry. But you're a ballet dancer, you were trained to endure. You finish the variation, cross your legs and gracefully bow.

Sukuna watches intently with narrowed eyes, like a predator stalking his prey. You can't see the sly smile on his face, but you can feel it.

"I apologize, your Highness.", your voice trembles. "It wasn't my best."

Sukuna huffs in amusement and waves his hand dismissively. "Go to sleep.", he orders.

You bow before him again, and quickly turn back towards the mansion. You don't feel relief from his piercing stare until you disappear behind a corner in the hallway.

You can't shake the feeling when you're back in your bed, snuggled in the sheets up to your eyes. You just survived a close encounter with Sukuna. And he must've liked what he saw at least a little bit, if you're still alive.

The next morning, you wake up and start getting ready for work with the other servants. The bathroom is busy, and as there's little else to do in the servant circles, gossiping starts immediately.

"Did you hear the scream last night?", the servant taking up the sink next to yours says, tapping foundation into her skin.

"Screams come from Sukuna's chambers all the time. It must be a new pet getting used to him.", another one replies. You shiver.

"Everyone knows how that sounds. This was different!", the two maids exchange a look.

The second rolls her eyes. "So, he killed someone. Nothing new.", she shakes her head.

"No. Uraume would've called someone to clean it up immediately.", the first servant continues. You really, really wish they would just drop it, until... "Hey you.", she turns to you. "Your bed was empty last night, did you hear anything?"

Your blood runs cold. "I was... feeling sick. And went to the bathroom.", you say quickly. "I probably couldn't hear... over the sound of throwing up."

"Hm.", both of them look at you now. "Well you look sick too.", one of them says. "Be careful with work today.", then they finish up and leave. You breathe a sigh of relief and finish up getting ready.

The next few days pass spotlessly. You don't cross paths with Sukuna. But some nights, you feel his presence in the garden. You stretch and practice simple movements in the bathroom, when no one's around. And the variations, you save them for the garden. At night. The only time you feel alive, the only time you feel like yourself. Human. Free. You think you might just get away with no one knowing, but then...

He walks past you and another maid while you're scrubbing the floors in the hallway. Both of you freeze as he passes by, assuming a submissive position and greeting him. You pray he won't notice, pray he won't know you by your voice, but he stops. Right by you, and then there's a moment of silence. He lifts his foot, touching your chin, and nudges you to look at him.

"Oh.", you watch his stern expression soften. "It's a shame for a talent like yourself to waste away on their knees.", he says. You look to the servant next to you, and she mouths a silent 'what?' as she turns her head in your direction.

You swallow your shame. It's not the first time you had to in front of Sukuna. "Its an honor to serve you, your Highness, even if it's on my knees.", you say.

Sukuna hums. "What a good servant you are.", an amused smile graces his face once again. "Well, get to rubbing then.", he nudges your face back downwards with his foot, and walks away.

You and the servants keep rubbing intensively, until he's out of sight and a couple minutes have passed. Then she grabs you by your shoulders and gives you a look that is both terrified and angry. "You did what with Sukuna?", she asks.

You frown, offended. Why does everyone in this mansion immediately think of that? "He knows I'm a dancer.", you say simply and look back to the floor, rage brewing in your chest.

"When did you do it. Was it you screaming? Oh my god it was!", the revelation hits the servant and she puts her hands on her cheeks, looking at you in shock.

"It wasn't me!!", you lie, agitation showing in your voice.

"Does he really have two dicks?", she asks.

You drain the washing rug and smack her in the face with it. "You disgusting pervert, how dare you ask that about your master!"

"You hit me! Whore!", she smacks you back, but harder, and her rag is full of dirty water.

"I'm not a whore!!", you cry, and wipe your face with your dirty, wet hands.

"Dancer. Yeah right, I can only imagine!", she throws the wet rag on you, and it sits on your lap, soaking you in the nasty liquid. "And you're a liar too! How shameless!"

"What is this commotion about?", a voice calls from the back of the hallway, and you turn around with teary eyes. Uraume looks like a blob of white in your vision, nonetheless they're recognizable.

"Tell them! You hit me, you little bitch!", the servant slaps your shoulder. You don't have it in you to fight back. The injustice pains your heart, and you can't bear the embarrassment.

Uraume smirks, noting your disheveled appearance. Your whole uniform is soaked now, even your hair. There's a pool of water forming around you as the liquid seeps out of the rags. "Clean this mess immediately. Master will be notified of this issue.", they say, and walk past the two of you.

The servant looks at you with contempt burning in her eyes. Then spits in front of you. "Clean.", she says, takes the rag you hit her with and starts cleaning.

Sukuna sees you that evening. He sits on his throne, head in his hand, and looks down on you and the other servant. He hides his inner smile, the joy he takes in executing power over others. And it's you again. He asks what this is about, and the servant wastes no time pointing her finger at you, saying you hit her first.

Sukuna's critical stare turns to you. ''Is that true?'', he asks, scanning you from head to toe, noting the state you're in. He's not particularly happy to see you like that.

You timidly nod, admitting your fault in the situation. Your stare is fixed to the ground, where dirty water drips down from your soaked clothes. You smell, and look like a rat, all of that in front of Sukuna. You wish the ground would swallow you whole and spare you this humiliation.

But he knows you. You've captivated him. Otherwise he wouldn't have cared to ask if you have anything to say in your defense. You tell him, omitting the details of her perverse question, you simply say she was slandering his holy name.

Sukuna moves, leaning his elbows on his knees. You care about his name? How lovely. So what is this slanderous thing his servants fought about?

Silence. You and the servant exchange uncomfortable looks. If there was one thing the both of you could agree on for the day, it was that repeating it in front of him was too vulgar. With that, Sukuna quickly grows bored with the situation. When he raises his hand, both of you flinch, expecting immediate punishment. However, nothing happens when he flicks his fingers. You're dismissed.

Quickly, both of you scurry away, leaving the throne room and going back to your jobs. The rest of the day is harrowing. The rumor spreads among the servants quickly, and you are the butt of every joke. You hear whispering and giggling behind your back, and everyone's stares linger on you as you go about your day. The culmination happens next morning, when the servants are getting ready in the bathroom, and the insults start getting more direct.

''Show us how you dance for Sukuna, why don't you?''

''Did you take both at the same time?''

''He didn't like you very much if you're still working as a servant.''

And then everyone goes quiet. When you turn around, you see Uraume at the door, their eyes fixed on you. ''Come.'', they say quietly, and leave without waiting for you to catch up. Well, it seems your punishment is due. You gladly leave the bathroom and follow them down the hall, anything is better than spending another second with the other servants. But now that you think of it, where is the servant that shares your punishment? Have you even seen her this morning? Or after the meeting with Sukuna at all?

You turn a couple corners, and stop at the end of the hallway. Uraume opens the doors to a room, and ushers you inside. What is this? It's furnished. Modestly, but... You open your mouth to ask a question, but you're quickly cut off.

''Make yourself at home.'', they say, and turn their attention to you.

''What about my things?'', you ask, looking around the room, then back to Uraume.

''You won't need them. Do you have good table manners?''

''Uhh.. yeah... I think.''

''Great. You dine with Master Sukuna tonight.''

''Huh!?''

''Your outfit is on the bed, be ready by sunset. I'll come to pick you up.''

Then the door closes and you're left alone in your new room. This isn't what a punishment should look like. Not when a beautiful kimono waits on your bed. Not when there's a barre fixed onto a mirrored wall, and there's a box on the ground, and when you open it, you find pointe shoes. Multiple pairs. He didn't know what size to get you. Ribbons, a sewing kit, glue, scissors... everything you need to break them in. Under that, a simple black leotard and a wrap skirt. By all means... this looks more like a reward.

You try everything on, find the perfect pair of shoes, and test them. It's not a big room, but there's enough space for you to practice with the bar. For the first time in so long, time passes quick. You're doing something you enjoy. It feels like in a blink of an eye, your shadow gets long on the wall opposing the window, and you have to get ready for dinner. You put the kimono on to the best of your ability - you don't have the opportunity to wear it often as a servant, being usually restrained in a uniform. And then reality hits you. Sukuna wants to have you over for dinner. This... is this a date? Unless he was planning to eat you, but you suppose he wouldn't have bought you shoes and furnished a room specially for you if that was the case... Come to think of it, what are you eating tonight?

Uraume knocks on the door, and takes a long look at you when you open. They fix your collar and nod, taking off down the hallway and expecting you to follow. They lead you to the dining room, vast and expensively furnished. You hear your heartbeat drumming in your ears. You only let your eyes explore for a second, before you fix them back to the ground and lower your head in Sukuna's presence.

''Your Highness.'', you bow in his direction.

''Master from now on.'', he says, and stands up to greet you. Master. You've only heard Uraume, and occasionally his pets, when he'd walk by with them, call him this by this... less formal title. He towers over you as his hand touches your shoulder, urging you to turn around. You follow obediently, making a circle and displaying your outfit.

He hums in approval. "Suits you much better than a cleaning uniform.", he says, and pulls your chair out for you to sit. You mutter a quiet thank you and sit down, already overwhelmed by the interaction.

He sits on the other side of the table, facing you. You can't bear the intense eye contact, and the silence that spreads across the room. Your eyes are fixed to your hands in your lap. ''Don't be shy now. I didn't invite you to sit there and be quiet. I reserve such duties for my pets.'', he breaks the silence.

''Master. Sharing a meal with you is a privilege, and I want to thank you for that. I'm not sure I'm deserving of it, though, and how my company may be of use to you.''. The kitchen servants scatter around the table, bringing food and pouring drinks. Various appetizers decorate the table, and only now do you notice you're hungry. You shyly pick the foods that catch your eye the most.

And your humility draws out a smile from him. ''You are an artist. And I am a man who takes great joy in consuming art.'', he says, and taps his finger against his glass, watching you pick. He's getting to know you, through your taste in food.

''I didn't know that about you.'', you say and look to your plate. You feel your hand shaking as you reach for the cutlery. You know Sukuna is judging every move. He was in your territory when you were dancing, now you're on his. And he will recognize the smallest mistake.

''Oh.'', his tone changes. It sounds like he didn't particularly like that comment. He finishes chewing. ''Did you take me for a savage?'', he narrows his eyes. More food is brought to the table, plates come and go quickly as the conversation progresses, and the tension grows.

You stutter, reading his volatile mood. ''I've only heard rumors.''.

He huffs in amusement again. ''I've heard rumors about you too.'', he says, leaning into the table. ''To be fair, I was asking around.''. So he took interest in you. ''They say you were the best there was, until you got captured.''

You chew slowly, taking his story in. He continues. ''They asked about you. Asked if I knew where you are. I said no.''. Sukuna watches as you grow visibly distressed by the mentions of your team. ''The best there is? What a wonderful prize. I'd rather keep you to myself.''. Oh. So that's what this is about. He gets off on the thought of owning you, the best there is, just for himself. You curse whoever told him about you. ''You showed me your worst, and mesmerized me. I want you to show me your best. Dance for me. Convince me you're worth my patronage.''.

The servants bring the main dish, and your head droops, stare fixed into the finely decorated red meat. You touch it with your cutlery, feeling it's texture. Sukuna eyes you as you cut a slice and bring it to your mouth, expectantly waiting for your reaction. You chew slowly, savoring the taste, but your expression is puzzled. ''What is this?'', you ask. And to make sure it doesn't sound like you're unhappy, you cut another slice. Truthfully, the food is incredible, but... you can't quite place the meat.

Sukuna bares his sharp teeth in a grin. ''Veal.''.

The conversation steers into a different direction then, and you quickly forget about how powerless you felt just moments ago. Sukuna is nothing like you've imagined him. He's right, you did take him for a savage. After all, everything you've heard about him pointed to a monster, who only took pleasure in wreaking havoc and destruction. Now, you find him to be eloquent, knowledgeable, and quite sophisticated. In a way, he appears similar to the other people you've met through your job. But way more powerful, and with it, way more intriguing.

Once again, time passes quickly, slipping through your fingers. The dinner is over, and you're facing Sukuna at the door. He seems to be pleased with your company, if you can read his face at all. ''Should I consider my offer accepted?'', he inquires. ''Everything will be provided for you. You just have to dance.''.

Well, it doesn't sound half bad, does it? You're not sure if the terms of the offers convinced you, or his presentation during the dinner. It might just be him. He made you feel you wouldn't be a jester, but a respected entertainer. And not for just anyone, but for a man as thoughtful and cultured as Sukuna proved himself to be. ''For you, gladly. Master.'', you smile at him. And he smiles back, taking your small hand into his, and planting a soft kiss to your fingers. You bow to him, wish him a good night, and you part ways.

Later, in your new bed, you find yourself replaying the interaction. Tracing his features in your memory. It's the first time you've had the chance to observe him, without fear of consequences. And he was beautiful. So elegant in the way he dressed and carried himself. Like a true king.

From then on, life in Sukuna's mansion is a game. Sukuna courts you in his dining room, feeding you delicacies from all around the world Foods that are hard and expensive to come by, that you've never heard of before. He courts you with the things he allows you to do, and the gifts he gives you. You dance and eat and walk around his garden and library. You don't dine with him every night, but when you do, rest assured that a new outfit is waiting for you in your room when you get back from practice.

And you court him on the floor, with feathery leaps that leave him on the edge of his seat, and dizzying turns that force him to focus all four eyes on you. You court him when you finish the variation by bowing before him, on one knee, a breath away from where he's sitting. And when you look up at him, he sees a lover rather than a personal dancer. Even though he's never touched you, or pressed his lips to yours.

There is love in the foods he picks for you specifically to enjoy, and there is love in the way you let him watch you practice. Even if you mess up, misstep and fall out of rhythm. Even if you stumble and fall in the most unceremonious of ways. There is vulnerability in letting him see you fail. It only happens a handful of times, but when you slip before him, you feel more naked than you would ever feel with your clothes off. And the relationship that the two of you foster grows intimate, despite the formal distance you keep from each other.

And that distance closes in, one day when Sukuna is there during a particularly nasty fall. You yelp when you hit the ground, and reach for your ankle, checking for injury. You only notice Sukuna when you feel his hand on your shoulder, and his brows furrowed in worry as his head looms over you. Your eyes meet for a moment, and you're hypnotized. Then you look away quickly, feeling your face heat up from the closeness.

''It's nothing.'', you say, and look down.

''Sure?'', Sukuna asks and stands up. You nod, and he offers you a pair of his hands, to help you stand. You take them, and he hoists you up effortlessly. And now you're face to face with his chest, and you're still holding his hands... ''That should to for today.'', he says, and when you look at him, there's a tender smile on his face. It sounds like a suggestion, but you've learned Sukuna is subtle about giving you orders. You nod, dust yourself off and untie your shoes.

That night, you recall his touch on your skin. Long fingernails ghosting over your shoulder, sending shivers through your whole body. You never expected Sukuna to have it in him to be gentle. But, that wouldn't be the first time he's broken the mold you thought he fit. And now in the cold of night, you find yourself craving him.

The next time you're invited to dinner, the tension is almost unbearable. ''Aren't you a sight to behold?'', he tells you when he welcomes you into the room. He always gives you compliments, but tonight they weigh heavy on your heart. You look across the table and curse every plate and glass that stands between the two of you. You look at him with quiet longing, and you think he knows. Because his smile is victorious, almost teasing. And when you accidentally hit his leg under the table, you start to credit it less to his size, and more to him deliberately crossing into your space. Subtlety is not a word you ever thought you'd attribute to Sukuna, but it seems this is the way you've established communication. You resist the instinct to remove your leg apologetically. So they stay touching.

Unfortunately, this little interaction slowly turns your brain into mush. By the last bite, your hand is trembling and you know you don't have the precision to pick up the last piece of food with your chopsticks. So you leave it on the plate, and wait for a moment when Sukuna is at least a little bit distracted, to attempt eating it again.

But such a thing doesn't happen. Today, he looks at you like you're the food on his plate. "Come on, eat it.", he nods in your direction. You can't read his expression, but it seems benevolent.

"I'm so full.", you make up an excuse.

"Just one strip.", he nudges your leg under the table, and you flinch, cheeks heating up.

"I.. I think I'll combust.", lies.

"I'll be offended.", Sukuna plays along with your game.

"Ah...", he wins, and you pick up your chopsticks with shaky hands. But as hard as you try, the little piece of food keeps escaping you, traveling through the plate.

"What makes you so flustered today?", he asks. "Is it the leg?". You blink at the plate, and feel your face going as red as the wine in your glass. "Come.", he waves his finger at you. You lean into the table, used to following his commands. And in no time, he is looming over your plate, one hand picking the last piece of your food with his chopsticks, and the other gently taking hold of your chin, nudging your mouth open. You part your lips obediently, and he places the bit onto your tongue, never breaking eye contact. His face is mere centimeters away from yours, observing you as you chew.

And the moment you've swallowed, and opened your mouth for air, he seizes you in a kiss. Slow, as he tastes your lips, and lets you adjust and catch up with him. He feels you go tense with the initial shock, then relax in his hold and kiss him back. His tongue brushes past your lips, and you think you'll sink right through your chair, and into the earth beneath the floor. The taste, the smell of him, so expensive and intoxicating. If this moment could last forever -

Foolish you. So much stress and tension, and you barely notice how quickly it passes. , how quickly his lips leave yours. His eyes scan your face, making sure you're alright, and then he's back in his chair. "There.", he says, "Have something to be flustered about."

That night, you think about his lips, slipping away from yours and moving to your neck, collarbones, shoulders. Not stopping until they've explored your whole body and touched your soul.

In the meantime, you practice your chosen choreography to perfection. And when you're standing in his throne room and awaiting the music, and your deciding performance to start, it's the first time in a while that you recognize feeling nervous. Uraume is there too, and his other disciples and guests. But he is the only one that matters. The only one your life depends on. Although the times when your life was truly on the line are long gone, Sukuna is still your patron, and now it's your turn to either satisfy or disappoint him.

The music starts, and the nervousness wanes as you start dancing. Sukuna's gaze is heavy, critical. He's seen you do this times and times already, but now it's final. Now, he's telling you, ''Bewitch me.''. Now, you're joining it together, one seamless show just for his enjoyment. And with every spin, you keep your eyes fixed on him. Enticing him with your movement, seducing him.

And for once, time passes quick for Sukuna as well. He finds himself lost in your dance. In your quick glances, in the way your body moves, contorts, withstands your weight on your tippy toes with so much grace and fluidity. You make it look easy. You nail the landing you failed so many times before his very eyes, perfectly, effortlessly. He almost wonders if you fell intentionally when he was watching you. And he's captivated. By the end of your performance, you earn his smile. You earn the clap of his hands, you even earn his standing ovation. The king himself, honoring you with the highest form of praise.

''It takes quite a performer, to entertain a crowd all by oneself.'', he comments later, over dinner. ''You've convinced me. You're worth keeping.''

''And when I can't dance anymore?'', you ask.

''You'll still be able to eat with me.'', he says.

At the doors, he bends down to kiss you again. You anticipate it, and accept it, kneading your hands through his hair. He asks if you're tired, and you shake your head no. He asks if you want to come with him. Yes, please yes, you've wanted to for so long. You almost thought he'd never ask. Again, his face lights up in a victorious smile.

He walks you through the halls, to his quarters of the mansion. Vast, and decorated with various works of art. They hang on the wall, or stand on the cupboards in forms of statues of various sizes. Sukuna likes to collect things, if that wasn't evident by your presence in the mansion.

''You're dragging behind. Did you have a change of heart?'', he asks, and extends his hand towards you. You step closer, and he wraps his arms around you, pulling you closer. You're standing at the doors of his bedroom.

''I was just admiring the interior.'', you smile at him, and take it upon yourself to cross the doorstep. His bedroom overlooks the garden, through a tall set of windows, little plants sitting on his windowsill. And his bed is massive. You think it could fit four people of your size. But then again, Sukuna is not a normal sized person. Your hand finds the mattress, testing it's sturdiness. And when you turn around, he's right behind you. Towering over you, and forcing you to look up at him, like the king he is. But you're not scared. You have no reason to be.

''Lay down.'', he orders, but his voice doesn't sound stern. Still, you obey, climbing into the bed. And he follows, letting you ease into the pillows only for a moment, before he settles above you, urging your legs apart. You welcome him, finally feeling the closeness you've been craving for so long. His body, big enough to enclose you completely under him, so carefully pressed against yours. Light enough not to hurt, but heavy enough to establish power. To give you what you want, what you've craved for a very long time.

He never lets you forget whose grasp you're in. He folds your smaller body with ease, adjusting you to his liking. And you let him, trusting him with your body and pleasure. He takes you gently, slowly, making sure you're comfortable in the process. You feel so full of him, but it's not enough, not enough until all of your senses are overwhelmed with him. You feel up his muscled arms and back, wrap around him, pull him closer with every stroke, every swipe of his lips against yours. Sukuna draws the moans out of you with practiced thrust of his hips, hitting spots inside you you didn't know existed. In no time you're seeing stars - his four eyes, never leaving yours as you come apart.

And Sukuna is stoic for the most part, but by the end of it, even he is loosing his composure. Hungry moans slip past his lips, his brows furrowing as he concentrates, trying not to let out too soon. You encourage him, babbling sweet nonsense into his ear. This flustered Sukuna, completely engulfed in the chase of his own pleasure, is as close as you've come to seeing a god. Moments later, his hips still, and you feel his muscles tense as he reaches completion, deep grunts filling your ears like the sweetest music.

You lay in his embrace, and trace your fingertips over his tattoos. Your stare is fixed on him, as he tells you various anecdotes from his long lifetime. You enjoy the opportunity to admire his beauty from up close. His eyes, so unusually benevolent as they stare outside the window and turn to you from time to time, to check if you're awake. The curve of his nose, the glimpses of his sharp teeth, his strong, masculine jawline. He is an art piece on his own.

After a while, he notices you struggling to stay awake. His hand on the back of your head nudges you to lay on his chest. He whispers you a good night, and runs his hand through your hair as you drift off. It's been a long day you've dedicated entirely to him, so he finds you worthy of this special treatment. After all, it isn't often that someone claims the title of both Sukuna's personal dancer and his lover, much less in the same day.

#sukuna x reader #ryomen sukuna x reader #ryomen sukuna #sukuna #jjk x reader #jjk #jujutsu kaisen #jjk fluff #sukuna fluff #soft sukuna #sukuna x you #see i love ballet. i even know a little bit about ballet #but WRITING ABOUT IT?? HELLLLLP #i just didnt know how to incorporate terms specific to it so everything is super vague #tons of dialogue in this one too!!#and the first fic i write where sukuna genuinely considers reader to be his equal and not a subhuman pet lol #it was fun to consider how he would act with someone like that #the dining scenes and the whole courtship thing? 100% inspired by hannibal.#dont ask me about it or i will write an essya

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nochukoo97 · 10 months

Text

flower girl

pairing: convict!jungkook x florist!reader

summary: you’re in charge of mentoring jungkook, a convict who’s currently doing community service. as time goes by, you grow closer and closer to the man, finding out more about him and his past. jungkook makes you crazy with his small gestures, he makes your cheeks turn the same shade as carnations, he makes you dizzy. most of all, he makes you his flower girl

word count: 5k+

teaser

When your boss had told you about the community service programme, you were a little skeptical, having had no prior experience with any convicts volunteering at the shop.

“Basically, we were assigned someone, and he will be coming in tomorrow,” Your boss is briefing you,

“And he’ll be following you, I’ve told the department that you are the most trustworthy and patient person that can help him,”

You’re honoured that your boss thinks that highly of you, but it’s making you a little anxious having to interact with a convict who’s currently doing community service. Surely if he was allowed out of prison to volunteer at shops, he couldn’t be all that bad right?

You were nervous, unsure of what to expect, but only tomorrow will tell.

d-30

The next day comes pretty quickly as you open up the shop, you mentally prepare yourself for what’s about to come.

It’s exciting to have changes, especially since your job was pretty repetitive, bunching flowers together and sending them off for delivery. Not that you disliked your job, but it was good to have a little switch up too.

You were currently pushing the stem of the peonies into the flower foam, arranging the flowers to have varying colours.

The sound of the bell rings, indicating someone has walked through the door.

You look up, anticipating greeting a customer that walks in.

But your breath hitches in your throat as you watch your boss signal for a man to walk in.

Your eyes drift towards his sleeve of tattoos, colours popping from the intricate designs. His eyebrow has a piercing, so does his lip. He has really big eyes, short hair, wearing chunky shoes as it thuds against the white tiles of the shop’s floor.

He wasn’t like what you expected, you had expected a big burly man, scary appearance. But somehow the man standing in front of you reminded you of a puppy, his eyes shining as he scans the place.

Why were you studying him so hard? Wake up.

“___, this is Jungkook, Jungkook this is___, she’ll be guiding you here,” Your boss introduces the man to you

Jungkook politely bows towards you, giving you a small smile.

You smile at the man, whose face resembles that of a puppy, especially with his big eyes, but his arms and piercings give off a manly vibe to him.

You thought you’d be scared, having assumed you’d have to teach someone that would probably beat you up if you had corrected his mistakes.

Maybe it was just you and your stereotypes, but now it seemed having him around wouldn’t be as bad as you expected.

“Hi ___, thanks for taking the time out of your work to accompany me, I promise I won’t cause any trouble,”

Jungkook grins at you, you notice his bunny teeth, it’s cute.

Wait, no you shouldn’t be thinking these things, ___ stop it.

You chuckle in response, your boss now announcing that she would be leaving.

That leaves you and the man in the shop alone.

“Alright, so where should I start,” You begin to talk after a moment of silence, after watching Jungkook standing a little awkwardly in the midst of many flowers around him. It’s amusing to see that he was so timid and calm despite what you had expected him to be like.

“Let’s get to know each other first,” Jungkook speaks up next, his eyes lighting up at his idea.

You’re somewhat surprised at his suggestion. You’d thought he would immediately just want to learn the basics and be left alone to do his own things.

“Okay, you can ask a question first,” You laugh, trying to ease the tenseness and awkwardness in the air.

“What made you want to be a florist?”

That’s a simple question for you,

“Ever since young, I’ve always had a love for flowers, my grandmother used to have a little garden at the back of her house and I would spend hours there admiring the flowers,”

You’re unconsciously smiling, recalling the fond memories from your childhood.

“That’s sweet,” Jungkook’s smiling back at you,

His voice is sweet like honey, deep but yet so so addicting.

“My turn to ask a question,” You light up, thinking hard of a good question.

“Why did you choose to volunteer here?”

Jungkook laughs, “I wanted to do something for my mum, I know I hurt her badly by committing all my past crimes and serving my time in jail, so I wanted to learn to make her a bouquet myself to give to her when my sentence is over,”

His eyes have a little glint, slightly red.

Even though you take notice of it, you don’t mention it.

“That’s really sweet of you Jungkook,” You smile sweetly at him, genuinely impressed and touched by his words.

“Those are peonies, right?” Jungkook gestures towards the half done bouquet you were putting together before he came in.

“Yeah! How did you know?”

Your surprised to know he could even recognise the flowers, although peonies were common, maybe as common as roses, not many people could distinguish them in the middle of a shop filled with a thousand different types of flowers.

“They’re one of my mum’s favourites,” He mumbles shyly.

You found it so sweet, cute even.

In a platonic way of course, nothing else.

Jungkook quickly lights up again as he turns his arm, showing you the orange flower amongst the many other tattoos on his arm.

“I also have a tattoo of the tiger lily, it’s my birth flower,” He proudly shows off his tattoo to you, as you gasp in admiration.

“I have many other tattoos but their a story for another day, not as significant to this as the flower,” He explains, as you nod, still making an effort to scan the sleeve of tattoos, noticing phrases and small pictures here and there.

“My turn to ask again,” Jungkook begins, “What’s your favourite flower?”

You gladly answer him, “Carnations, especially the pink ones,”

You spent the rest of the day teaching Jungkook how to arrange flowers into an aesthetic pattern, he picked up on everything really quickly, surprising you by how fast he was progressing.

Jungkook was currently out in the front of the shop, as you packed up the back. You had told him that he could go, but he insisted on staying until you left.

Walking out from the back as you shut the storeroom door, you spot Jungkook bent over a table, as if concentrated on something.

“Jungkook? I’m leaving now, you can go now too,” You call out to the man who has his back faced to you, hunched over and arms fiddling with something that you cannot see.

He turns around, huge smile on his face as his hand holds a bouquet of flowers, pink carnations tied together with a ribbon, wrapped with blue paper.

Your eyes widen in surprise, applauding him;

“Woah! Did you do that?”

Jungkook nods eagerly, holding out the bouquet, gesturing for you to take it.

“It’s for you,”

Jeon Jungkook might have killed you on the spot there.

You gratefully take the bouquet from him, heart thumping in your chest, the tips of your ears turning slightly red.

“Thank you, Jungkook, that’s really sweet of you,” You manage to spit out, despite having almost choked on your words.

He chats with you while waiting for the department to pick him up, both of you sitting on the sidewalk, talking intimately about life.

That night, you transferred the pink carnations into a vase, putting it next to your bed.

There’s a white piece of paper that sticks out from the pink flowers, you reach for it in curiousity, opening up the folded letter.

Hi ___, thanks for today, I really enjoyed my time with you, and I hope you like my flowers, they may not be perfect but I tried my best to make them look pretty :))))

Your heart thumps in your chest again, a smile unconsciously creeps onto your face.

Jeon Jungkook is a sweetheart.

d-15

It’s been a few weeks since Jungkook arrived at the shop, and he’s been pretty independent, also extremely skillful at putting together beautiful pieces.

Your boss even joked about hiring Jungkook when he finishes his sentence.

Right now Jungkook’s humming to the soft music playing throughout the shop. It’s a wednesday afternoon, meaning there weren’t as many customers, so it was a chill day for you both.

You’ve grown to really like Jungkook, he was good company considering you didn’t really have other coworkers with you.

Sure you had a few other girls who would come in and intern during summer breaks, but other than that it was mainly you alone in the shop.

Jungkook just gave you the company you never knew you needed.

He also makes your day way better, just simply by existing. Even though you had a shit night and only two hours of sleep, Jungkook had managed to make you laugh at least five times since this morning.

You stare at the empty coffee cup, the one that Jungkook had brought in the morning for you. He had told you the whole story of how he spent a really long time convincing the officers driving him here that he had to stop at the coffee shop to get something for you.

“My charms convinced them to let me do so,”

You remember Jungkook’s proud face as he tells his story, you listened to him in amusement.

The bell at the front door rings, as both you and Jungkook’s head whips up, watching a group of teenage girls walk into the shop.

Immediately you can tell as they whisper and giggle amongst themselves, that they were talking about Jungkook.

There’s this small tight feeling in your chest that you can’t really explain, but it makes you want to keep Jungkook by your side.

You gesture for him to follow you as you approach the girls, offering help.

They eagerly agree, telling you both, or rather only Jungkook, you think, about what they were keen on getting.

“No problem, we can make the bouquet now and give it to you guys in five minutes time, is that okay?” Jungkook replies to the girls, who immediately nod their heads.

Jungkook then grabs your hand, dragging you to the tables where the flowers are.

The teenagers behind you now whisper loudly amongst themselves, as if discontented that Jungkook had held your hand.

“Jungkook, what are you doing!” You whisper-yell at him, but the man himself sees nothing wrong with his actions.

“What? I just wanted to bring you here so we can do their bouquet?”

He’s acting innocent, you know it.

Because his hand refuses to let yours go, even though the both of you were already at the table.

So you raise your eyebrow at him, shaking your hand in his hold to show him.

“Okay, fine,” He’s pouting a little, being dramatic towards you, as he releases his hold on you.

It was nice while it lasted

After you finish putting the flowers into a bunch, you pass it to Jungkook who wraps them up.

“I’ll be in the storeroom ‘kay? We need more ribbons,”

You tell Jungkook as he nods, eyes focused on wrapping the flowers up nicely so he doesn’t fully pay attention to you.

When Jungkook passes the bouquet to the girls, who all seem extremely delighted, even leaving a pretty big tip, he seems proud.

“Thanks so much for these flowers, they’re like soooo pretty,” One girl says, leaning over the counter, opposite from where Jungkook was standing.

You can hear the conversation from inside the storeroom, the walls thin enough to be able to hear anything that goes on. You ignore the tight feeling in your chest again.

“Oh? What’s this note?” The other girl grabs the small bouquet at the corner of the counter, the one Jungkook had been secretly working on for you.

“Hey! Don’t touch that, sorry it’s not for sale,” Jungkook exclaims, snatching back the bouquet from the girl.

“Is it for me?” The third girl smirks at Jungkook, as he laughs, amused that she thought he would even give her one.

It was for you, he only ever made bouquets for you.

Jungkook decided that every week, he would gift you one bouquet, each one unique and different from the next.

And everytime he would write a little note, telling you small little details he noticed, like when you wore the same checkered shoes you liked and he had noticed, or when you began to wear your glasses a little more often.

It always makes your heart thump in your chest.

But you remind yourself that he’s only here to volunteer.

You walk out just on time, or maybe you intentionally walked out, but who cares.

Jungkook passes you the bouquet with a sweet smile, as the girls scoff and walk out.

“Sorry, I wanted to pass it to you at the end of the day like I always do, but I wanted to show them that it was for you,” Jungkook scratches the back of his neck a little awkwardly.

You laugh a little, finding it cute.

“It’s okay Gguk, thanks for this, I’ll read the note at home,” You smile, reaching up to ruffle his hair.

When you walk off Jungkook has to coax himself not to turn the same shade of red as the roses next to him.

d-7

It’s another chill day, you and Jungkook were sitting together on the small couch in the corner of the shop, chatting away.

“So,” You start, “It’s one week to your release, how’re you feeling?”

“Excited? Not sure, I’m a little nervous even though it hasn’t even been that long,” Jungkook’s fiddling with his fingers again, a habit you took notice of when he talked about intimate stuff.

“You should be excited, you get to see so many people again, and you’d get to live in your own house,” You smile, scanning his unreadable expression but attempting to coax something out of him.

You weren’t gonna lie, there was this ache in your heart knowing that he would probably be gone and move on with life after next week.

Jungkook had grown onto you, he was a part of your daily life, your routine. You didn’t want to have to let him go.

“I’ve grown so used to this, to us,” He gestures towards you, “I don’t see myself doing anything else but this, with you,”

Damn it Jeon Jungkook. At this point you think he’s purposefully playing around with your poor heart.

“But I’m sure you’re excited to try new things again? Like maybe getting tattoos, or boxing again? You said you liked that right?”

Jungkook nods, but there’s still this dissatisfaction within him.

“Yeah, but those are like hobbies, I don’t know how to say this,” He frowns, biting on his lip in frustration.

“It’s like, I don’t see myself anywhere else, not because of this shop, it’s because of you, ___”

Jungkook looks into your eyes.

You almost faint.

“Becoming so attached to me huh?” You tease him, nudging his shoulder.

Jungkook chuckles in response, mumbling a soft, “Yeah,”

He thinks you don’t hear it, but you do.

Your intimate moment gets interrupted when the front door bell rings, making you get up to go and greet the customer.

Jungkook’s talking to the old lady as she waits for her flowers, you’re at the tables focused on placing the flowers into the foam.

“Oh these flowers are really pretty!” The old lady is gleaming at the carnations on display, the one that Jungkook insisted on putting at the front of the shop.

“Yeah? It’s her favourite,” Jungkook tells the lady, gesturing towards you, she smiles fondly at him.

“You must be close to her to know that, are you her boyfriend?” The lady’s question takes Jungkook by surprise,

“No,no, she’s my mentor,” He waves off, laughing.

“Not yet,” He then whispers to the lady, who gives him an amused look.

“Well good luck young man, don’t wait too long to confess to her,” She pats Jungkook on the back, as he nervously chuckles.

You quickly give the basket of flowers to the old lady, as Jungkook holds open the front door for her to leave.

“What was she talking to you about? She looked really interested,” You ask Jungkook curiously,

“Oh it’s nothing, just asked about the names of the flowers,” He brushes your question off, not wanting to get caught.

“That’s cute,” You smile, watching the lady slowly walk along the path.

Jungkook takes the old lady’s advice seriously, he’s too busy thinking of a plan to confess to you before his sentence is over.

As you close up the shop, Jungkook trails behind you like a little puppy, rambling about the things he’s excited to get back, you actively listen to him, he lists out stuff like his car, a new phone, his apartment which his brother has been helping him stay in and clean, and he doesn’t tell you but he’s also excited yet nervous about what he plans to tell you. Sometime soon.

d-6

The next day Jungkook doesn’t come to the shop, he’s told by the department he needs to settle documents and legal papers to prepare for his release.

You were currently cutting the stems of the flowers, but you get distracted by the stray cat walking outside,

You’re cooing as the cat rubs its body against the glass, purring.

The next thing you know, you unknowingly pull the scissors too close to your finger, snipping at your skin.

You gasp, wincing as you watch the blood flow out.

Sighing as you walk to the sink to wash the wound, you scold yourself for not being more careful.

As you bandage up the cut, the phone at the desk rings, you pick it up.

“___?”

“Jungkook?”

“I won’t be there today okay? But I’ll see you tomorrow, until then don’t miss me so much,”

You can hear the hint of playfulness in his voice, as he laughs hearing your groan.

“Don’t worry, I’m good on my own Kook, but why did you waste your one phone call on me? You could’ve used it to call someone else,”

Jungkook always got a phone call every day, he told you he would always call his mum, and sometimes his brother.

“I’m not wasting the call, they said I should call my loved ones using it so I did,”

Your heart will burst out of your chest soon.

“Jungkook, don’t say these things,” You groan over the phone, thank goodness he cannot see your red face right now.

“I mean it ___,” Jungkook’s deep laugh rings over the phone, “Okay, I gotta go now, see you tomorrow!”

You say your goodbyes as you put down the phone.

You catch yourself unconsciously smiling a little too widely.

He’s going to be the death of you.

d-5

“_____~” Jungkook’s voice rings through the shop as the officers dropping him off gives you a wave, before leaving.

“Hi Kook,” You laugh, as he approaches you, hiding something behind his back.

“What are you hiding?” You ask as you watch his expression, can’t really tell what he’s feeling, nervous? Excited? Scared?

He’s definitely feeling everything you’ve listed.

Jungkook had spent his allowance on a flower necklace for you, but he didn’t tell you, or you’d gotten mad at him for spending so much money on your gift.

“Close your eyes,” Jungkook instructs you, as you listen obediently, shutting your eyes.

There’s a weight in your hands as Jungkook gently places the box into your hold.

“Okay, open them!”

You open your eyes, seeing the red velvet box in your hand as you gasp,

“Jungkook…. What did you get me? This is probably so expensive, you spent your allowance again right?” You’re rambling on and on,

“Stop nagging, just open it and accept my gift,” Jungkook whines, impatient that you’re still scolding him, not that he minds.

He makes you open the box,

You gasp again, picking up the silver flower necklace,

“This is so pretty, thank you Kook,”

He smiles at you, tips of his ears turn red.

“Still you didn’t have to spend-“

“Aish, just let me put it on you,” He cuts you off, taking the necklace from your hand and wrapping it around your neck.

“Pretty,” Jungkook mumbles to himself, as you agree with him, talking about how intricate the flower design was.

He was talking about you, not the necklace, but you don't need to know

Jungkook’s train of thought gets interrupted when he notices the pink plaster wrapped around your finger,

“What happened? Are you okay?” He worriedly grabs your hand, inspecting the plaster.

“It’s okay, I just snipped myself by accident,” You tell him, mentally cursing at yourself for foolishly making the mistake of not watching what you were cutting.

Jungkook leans his head down, pecking your finger as he brushes his thumb over it.

What

The

Fuck

Your eyes widen slightly, shocked at his sudden action.

Jungkook peers at you through his bangs, his hair grown out a little, as he smiles

You flick his forehead as he whines, clutching dramatically onto his head.

You laugh at his expression, ruffling his hair.

d-1

Jungkook is almost dreading tomorrow, his release date. Even though he should be happy, excited to be ‘free’, but the man has grown so attached to your presence, he doesn’t want to leave you.

“___?” Jungkook speaks, after both of you have been sitting together in comfortable silence.

“Yeah, Kook?” You look up at him, putting the foam away to listen to him.

“I’m kind of dreading tomorrow,” He mumbles, fiddling with his fingers again.

“Why?” You’re surprised, thinking that since it was a big day for him, you had thought that he would be excited,

“I don’t want to not spend time with you anymore, I can’t live without this,” Jungkook bites down on his lip, holding back his tears that begin to slowly form.

“You know we can still stay in contact, Kook, I’m not just gonna cut you off like that,” You tell him, and he nods.

“I know, but I want to be with you, I don’t want to just stay in contact with you, I want- Urgh how do I say this,”

He’s frustrated, drawing blood from his lip.

“I just, I can’t see my life without you, ___. I don’t want us to just be in contact, I want to be with you, I want you,” He’s rambling on without thinking about his words.

Jungkook curses under his breath for slipping up and confessing to you.

You’re grinning at him, “You want me? What do you mean?”

He knows what you’re doing, you're teasing a reaction out of him. Coaxing him to tell you exactly what he means, even though you know what he means.

“You know what I mean, ___”

“I don’t really know though,” You're playfully nudging him.

Jungkook’s had enough, fuck it, he didn’t want to confess like this but he can’t stop himself, you make him crazy.

The next thing you know, Jungkook’s lips are on yours, you feel the coldness of his lip ring as you lean into the kiss, heart thumping in your chest.

You wrap your hands around his neck, sighing into the kiss.

When Jungkook pulls away, he stares at you, there’s a boyish smile on his face.

“I really like you, ___” He whispers, face still in close proximity to yours

“Me too, Kook,” You laugh at his red face, as he groans, processing what happened.

“Fuck, I didn’t want to confess to you like this, I was planning for a huge thing, I planned what flowers I would give you, and everything, Oh fuck I should have-“

You cut him off with a peck on his lips, laughing in amusement at his endearing self.

“Koo, it’s okay,”

Jungkook sighs, scolding himself, but deep inside he’s going crazy.

“When I prepare the surprise confession, pretend none of this ever happened okay?”

Jungkook is serious, he’s already thinking about sharing a house with you, cooking for you, making flowers for you— okay maybe he’s taking it a little too far.

“Promise,” You stretch out your pinky finger, as Jungkook happily wraps his around yours, sealing the promise.

“My flower girl,” He mumbles as he buries his head into your neck, pecking the skin delicately.

You're laughing and squirming at how ticklish it was, and Jungkook playfully pinches your waist, making you squeal.

“Ow!” You whine dramatically, as Jungkook rubs his fingers over the spot, kissing your lips in apology.

“Sorry, been waiting too long to make you my girlfriend, you don’t know what you do to me,” Jungkook’s cheesily smiling at you, as you squish his cheek, smiling back at him.

Your moment is interrupted again when the front bell rings, Jungkook jumping up from his spot on the couch to greet the customer.

He doesn’t forget to give you a playful wink before attending to the man who’s admiring the flowers on display.

After the shop closes, you and Jungkook stay in the shop, working on a pretty bouquet, for his mum, as he focuses hard on making it perfect.

Between making the flowers and exchanging sweet nothings, Jungkook thanks whoever is above for letting him meet you, his life, his meaning and now, his girl.

d-day

It’s the day of Jungkook’s release, and when the court officially announces that he’s free, the first place he goes to is the shop, looking for you.

“Jagi?” He calls out, as he enters through the back door, that’s always open.

There’s no reply, and when he walks further into the shop, he sees your sleeping figure hunched over the counter, hair over your face.

He coos silently, brushing the hair out of your face.

Jungkook pulls out his new phone, finally being able to have his own now that he’s done with his sentence.

He snaps a picture of you, replacing the automatic background to the picture.

His first picture on his new phone was you, his first wallpaper was you.

Jungkook was crazy for you.

He accidentally knocks his chunky shoes against the counter, making you stir in your sleep.

When you open your eyes, there’s a familiar man standing in front of you.

It’s Jungkook, he’s here.

“Kook!” You jump up, hugging him tightly as Jungkook laughs, hugging you tightly back.

“Congrats on your big day, we should celebrate it!” You tiptoe, pecking his lips before pulling away.

Jungkook chases your lips for another kiss, passionately kissing you.

“I’ll pick you later at 6?” He mumbles against your lips, swaying both your bodies as he laughs.

“Sure, now go bring this to your mum, tell me how it goes okay?” You push the bouquet into his hands, as he salutes to you playfully, telling you he’ll text you when he’s about to pick you up.

You smile as you watch Jungkook walk out the back door.

Its currently 6pm as you close up the shop, locking the doors and shutting the computer down, there’s a pair of arms that creep up behind you, wrapping around your waist.

You gasp, shocked at the sudden touch.

“Baby! You scared me!” You whine, turning around as you hug Jungkook.

“Sorry, wanted to surprise you,” Jungkook pecks your lips.

You admire him, noticing he’s dressed up, hair styled and everything.

“I like this Jungkook,” You smoothen out his shirt, smiling at him.

“Yeah? I tried to style my hair, but I haven’t done it in a long time,” He scratches the back of his neck.

“It’s perfect, Kook”

Jungkook takes you through the back door, he helps you lock up the shop, as you turn to see a black Mercedes light up when he clicks the button on his car key.

Your jaw drops to the floor.

“Hah, my dad gave it to me for my 18th birthday, he owns a big company so he managed to buy me this as a huge coming-of-age gift, haven’t driven this in a long time though,” Jungkook explains, he taps the hood of the car as he stares longingly at it.

“My boyfriend drives a mercedes?” You taunt him, as your boyfriend laughs.

It’s a little weird now calling him your boyfriend, but you like it. It just feels a little foreign and makes your stomach do flips.

“Yeah, and your boyfriend is also taking over his father’s company in a few years time,” Jungkook takes your hands into his, as you exclaim, jumping in excitement.

“Really? That’s awesome Kook, can’t believe you're progressing so quickly!”

Jungkook finds your excitement adorable, he has to even calm you down when you begin to shake his hands, over the moon that he’s succeeding so quickly.

“Thanks Jagi,” Jungkook laughs, opening the passenger seat for you.

He takes you to this fancy restaurant, tells you to close your eyes when you complain about how pricey the food was.

“Oh my goodness, 10 bucks for bread? That’s insane,”

Jungkook takes your hand, kissing it from across the table,

“Wanna spoil my girl, just close your eyes when picking the food Jagi,”

You roll your eyes at him as he laughs.

“This was suppose to be about you though,”

“I’m happy whenever you’re happy”

Jungkook smiles lovingly at you

You and your boyfriend eat together, laughing and sharing sweet stories with each other. You tear up a little when Jungkook tells you his mum’s reaction to the flowers, how she had cried and hugged him.

He doesn’t tell you that he cried too, but you can probably tell he would have.

“I spent really long decorating my whole apartment so be prepared for a grand surprise,”

Jungkook wiggles his eyebrows, teasing you as his hand stays on the door handle of his apartment, not opening it.

“Okay I’m ready Kook,” You chuckle, a little nervous on what to expect.

When Jungkook opens the door, you gasp loudly, eyes immediately tearing up as you see rose petals all over the floor, candles lit up, forming a path to walk into the hallway.

There’s romantic music playing, there’s little desserts on the table, you notice the table cloth he has put over the table too.

“Baby,” You turn around to hug Jungkook, who’s shocked by your crying.

“Why are you crying Jagi?” He wipes the tears rolling down your face, smiling at you.

“I love it so much Jungkook, I love you so much, thank you,” He leans down to kiss you, as tears continue to stream down your face.

You’re so happy, you could cry. You are crying out of happiness.

“Okay follow the petals,” Jungkook gently nudges you to walk, as he trails behind you, heart thumping in his chest as you walk into his room.

There’s a huge banner hanging above his bed, held up by strings attached to his window grill and his cupboard:

Will you be my flower girl?

More tears overwhelm you, you spot a huge bouquet of carnations sitting on the bed, there’s a note attached to each flower.

“Jungkook,” You sob, hugging him as you kiss him again.

“Jagi, why are you crying so much huh,” He laughs, endearingly wiping away every tear that flows out of your eyes.

“I love you so much, this is so much,” You laugh between tears.

“I love you too, now read the notes,” He gestures to the flowers.

You open each note, reading it:

The first time I met you, I was enchanted by you, the way you patiently taught me how to do stuff, the way your laugh sounds, the way you smiled at me

You take the next note attached to the other carnation,

When I saw a coffee cup sitting near the counter on the first day I arrived, so I made sure to remember your order that was printed on the cup, and I bought you the coffee

The next note came:

When you accidentally cut your finger that day, I cursed at myself for not being there to protect you, I wanted to protect you from all danger, to not let you get hurt

And the next:

I felt so sad when I counted down the days I was about to leave, I didn’t want to leave your side, you became a part of my life, a part of me.

Another one:

While you counted down the days to me leaving, I counted down the days to when I would confess to you, but you didn’t know.

The last one:

____, I want you in my life, I love you so fucking much, you make me crazy, you make me want to do anything and everything to make you happy. I want to live with you forever, to have a home with you, to have a family, to be with you until we’re old and wrinkly. Although I’m sure you’ll always be as pretty as you are, even as an old lady ;)

I want you to be my flower girl

Love,

Jungkook

#jungkook fluff #jungkook #jungkook au #jungkook ff #jungkook smut #jungkook x oc #jungkook x reader #bts #bts ff #bts fic #jungkook fanfic #jungkook imagines #boyfriend jungkook

2K notes · View notes

ma1dita · 5 months

Text

feed the fire

a 'partners in crime' installment - luke castellan x dionysus!reader

words: 1.2k

summary: (pre-established relationship) The one where his focus is not on spilled food, but on you. The fight never ends, but food service does, and well, you’re pretty when you’re mad. Lucky for you, your dad doesn’t really need offerings. Lucky for Luke, you’re in a sharing mood. Luke Castellan x fem!Dionysus!reader

a/n: Chiron isn’t gonna bet his kids against each other he on the side of love wym -.- (unbeta'd and purely made by caffeine)

(posted 1/22/24)

—

“If that was your definition of fun Castellan, you are most possibly the worst person alive,” you grumble, bumping past Luke in the dinner line. The weight of his plate is as heavy as his stare, eyes following you as you turn to look at him and he knows you’re pissed after his team won capture the flag.

Again.

After years at Camp Half-Blood and years of arguing with you, everything gets a bit repetitive. But he can’t help but bite back a grin at this routine you two have created—it’s never boring when you’re around. You get as close as you can to his large frame, nose turned up for another face-off and he shouldn’t find your anger…so attractive. He shouldn’t be so interested in someone who looks like they’re about to wring his neck. However, Luke eats up the attention from you like he’s starving and wanting seconds, so he eggs you on just to see how this turns out.

“But a damn good demigod right? You’re just a sore loser, trouble. Gonna have to do better than that to impress me,” Luke jabs at you, holding his tray in one hand. His grin gets impossibly bigger once his half-siblings rumble with laughter behind him, and the frown on your face deepens.

Where you two are involved, there’s always a spectacle. Rumors of campers placing bets and keeping score to the point of updating Mr. D with the count of who comes up on top each time you two argue. He’s past the point of assigning you two extra chores and taking away leisure time since you’re much older now (and essentially run the camp for him), so the god has resigned himself to placing bets with the kids (without Chiron knowing). But every week after capture the flag, Luke unknowingly bumps up several points just by existing. It’s damaging Mr. D’s stakes so much that he might have to bet against you, his own child, next time. Plus, there’s something about Luke that always riles you up.

“Who said I was impressing you?” You scoff, blocking him from walking to his table and he looks down at you (both figuratively and literally) with a raised eyebrow.

“I don’t know, with the way you won’t let it go, some people might think you’re obsessed with me, sweetheart. Can’t blame you, though.” Luke’s words slip through his lips like water, and this time he’s unable to place what the expression on your face means as you stare back at him blankly with your fists clenched.

The only thing he’s able to perceive as a warning is the twitch of your eye before you’re on him, climbing him like a tree as you slam into him, knocking him to the ground and screaming, “YOU’RE SO FULL OF IT, CASTELLAN!”

Luke braces for impact as your hands are flying at him though there’s no intent to cause injury—he’s felt your right hook before and it took the air out of his lungs. This, was just you being petty, hands slapping him across the head and chest before you pulled him in by the front of his shirt, and then…it was over before it even started.

“DAUGHTER! What do you think you’re doing?” Mr. D’s voice rings across the dining pavilion and your eyes meet Luke’s as you both remember where you are.

On his lap, with everyone watching.

Air escapes him again as he feels the weight of your hips against his hands and he doesn’t quite remember when he moved them there, or when in all of these arguments he’s stopped fighting back.

But was it ever really a fight, Luke wonders looking up at you, not even hearing anything coming out of Mr. D’s mouth right now. Your hair is framing your face and the harsh overhead lighting in the dining pavilion surrounds you like a halo. You look like you’ve been blessed by Aphrodite herself, ethereal and strong… and a new funny feeling in his chest makes him suddenly unsure of everything you two have ever done together. This isn’t part of the routine.

Shit.

He’s in trouble.

The fist in his shirt loosens and he falls hard, head bumping against the hardwood floor. Luke can see his tray facedown on the ground, the grapes and his dinner roll bouncing away underneath the tables.

“He did it,” you blurt out like a kid caught with their hands in the cookie jar. You can feel Luke’s chest rumble with laughter under your fingertips and you push up off of him, extending a hand to help him up. Your dad is gesturing at you to clean the mess, but by the time you finish your angry gestures and eye rolls to turn towards the utility closet, Luke’s already back and sweeping up the fallen food without any complaints.

“You know, for the strongest swordsman in 300 years, I took you down pretty easy, huh, Luke?” You say cheesily, bumping his shoulder as he chuckles.

“You just caught me off guard—throwing yourself at me like a deranged satyr.”

“Oh because you’re a dainty nymph in distress,” you bite back, walking away to get dinner.

By the time he’s done cleaning up the mess, food service is over. He scratches the back of his neck and goes to sit next to Chris, who’s wolfed down most of his meal already, but to his surprise, you’re sitting in his usual seat with a plate piled high enough for two and some extra prayers.

“You here to rub it in? Gonna have to eat air for dinner because of you.” He falls onto the bench, leaning on his hand as he gazes at you with a slow smile, and then watches you brandish two forks in the air.

“I’ll gouge your eye with a fork if you don’t start eating.”

Your knees are touching under the table and his hand slightly shakes as he pulls the utensil from your fingers.

“Sometimes I think I like it better when you’re mean to me,” he jokes but takes a hefty bite of pasta anyway.

“You love it.”

He can’t help but agree.

—

Clarisse walks over to Mr. D who’s watching you two from across the dining pavilion with an emotion akin to confusion and possibly disgust. You’re both laughing at something indiscernible to everyone else around you, together, not at each other…and it’s unsettling. The daughter of Ares stands in front of the Olympian with her palm extended.

“Pay up. Luke clearly won again.”

Mr. D’s eye twitches as he holds onto his drachmas. He was supposed to be entertained by this, not be the entertainment.

“Did he though? They both look like they’ve tamed down. This is starting to get boring.”

A hand comes out of nowhere, snatching the drachmas out of the god’s hand, and Clarisse’s eyes widen at Chiron, who’s been behind them all along.

“I’ll take that. Don’t think either of them are gonna win this in the end.”

The three of them watch Luke say something to you with a mischievous grin and you gape at him as you shove a bread roll into his mouth angrily.

Mr. D tuts and it catches your attention, your middle finger directed at him as you push the rest of your plate towards Luke.

“What, no offerings for your dear father?” He calls out disgruntled by your audacity.

“You clearly eat enough, D!”

Luke elbows you as he laughs behind his bread roll, and Chiron smiles, knowing what’s forming between you two, even if you both don’t see it quite yet.

—

“There’s something between us; a sort of pull. Something you always do to me, and I to you.” F. Scott Fitzgerald

ask to be added to the general/luke taglist! 🥹

luke taglist (some won't let me tag, turn on my post notifs?): @kissingyourgrl @dorcas4meadowes @lorarri @andrewgarfldsgf @noodlesketchbook @10ava01 @poppysrin @ashisabitgay @timhalamet @liv1104 @leeknows-wife @mxtokko @bugcuti3 @luvvfromme @midmourn @2hiigh2cry @yuminako @niktwazny303 @lukecastellandefender @intergalactic-padawan @iliketopgun @annybah @dangelnleif @thegrinningghost @alyssajunelle @obxstiles @m00ng4z3r @visndcaitswhore @b0ok-lover @elegant-face-tree @this-barbie-is-having-breakdowns @amortencjja @idonevenknow1359 @maliaaaa @targaryenluvs @sakyira @dhdjdjjdhsjdiri @number-onekidqueen @nininehaaa @bradynoonswife @stevenknightmarc @hoodedhavok @happy-mushrooms @homebyeleven @anotherblackreader @too-deviant @liviessun @lilacspider @theadventuresofanartist @sucker4seresin @simpforsunwoo @zanzie @starrystormwritings

#luke castellan x reader #luke castellan x dionysus!reader #pjo x reader #pjo show imagine #luke castellan x reader fanfic #luke castellan fluff #made by ma1dita ♥︎#trouble!verse #thank you for reading my love ˚ʚ♡ɞ˚

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bitchimasnake-sss · 7 months

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unwinding after a long day ft. r.zoro!

in which, after a long day, he comes right back to you <3

ft. zoro x fem!reader

set-up: its been a tiring day for him, good thing you're right here to offer your services (wink wink)

warnings: both sfw/nsfw headcanons for this dumbass; nsfw stuff includes penetration, cowgirl, just him being a smexy mf aah <3; MDNI (thankyou so much)

sfw!!

- the amount of training this guy does actually scares me to death - like nice arms babe but please calm down. please. - so anyways, after a long day of training and sleeping and training and more sleeping and fighting off random pirate fleets, this fine specimen is bound to be tired - i am not kidding when i say he just wants to fall asleep like a log - "zo, you sleep like 10 hours a day" you pout as he lays down on your shared bed, already drifting into a sound slumber "i would like to sleep for 10 more" he grumbles, putting his hand over his eyes. - you are now wondering if maybe chopper should check him up, cause there's no way this man is fr - but let me tell you no matter how fucking sleepy he is, if you're talking about something (no matter how nonsensical), he will stay up and listen to it all - his eyes are closed, his chest rising and lowering in a repetitive symphony and you stop mid-sentence, realizing that he must be asleep "and what happened next?" his voice is nonchalant, as if there was no reason for you to stop talking "i thought you- were asleep" you mumble "bullshit." he glances at you, ignoring your bright grin, "finish up, now. i can't stay up the whole night, can i?" - so now you both have come a meticulous pre-arrangement. - you both would stumble through the door, legs heavy and eyelids heavier - his head is on your chest as he lays on top of you (how is he not crushing you? idk. if i knew that much physics id do something else than writing fanfics, stop attacking me) - as i said, his head is on your chest, one of his hand intertwining with yours. your fingers run through his scalp, slowly massaging as you recount your day for him "and then, nami told sanji that he needs a haircut and he got offended" "hm?" zoro's eyes are trained on your face and for a second you wonder if the pink dusting your cheeks is evident under the pale moonlight - it must be because he presses a chaste kiss to your knuckles and then closes his eyes with a low hum - you've decided this zoro, the one who's too tired to put up with his stoic demeanor is your favourite - because only you get to see him - his soft smiles as he pulls you closer to him, his annoyed sigh when you get too hot and push him away (he will pull you back like 2 seconds later, so it was of no use anyways), his droopy eyes as he struggles to stay awake and decided to kiss you to shut you up and falls asleep a second later - ugh we are all hoes for soft zoro 🥱🥱

nsfw!!

- on a few ocassional nights, his hand will skim over your tits, lightly running over your hardening nipples and then trace downwards to your waist "chopper was so confu-" your breath hitches, "zo- zoro?" he hums, fingers hiking up your shirt slowly, "keep talkin'" - and so you keep talking while he continues his administrations - his calloused fingers are tugging on your hardened nipple as his lightly runs his tongue over the other. his touch is fleeting, it comes and goes in waves and you're having a hard time keeping your thoughts straight - he looks up at you, "i said keep talking, didn't i?" - then he's flipping you over so that he's on his back and you're on top of him - and he's kissing your neck, breathing against your neck as he makes you sit on his thigh, you can feel his muscles under your core hot - you're rutting on his thigh, desperately aching for some satisfaction from the layers of clothes that separate you two - "zoro" you whine, "i- you. i need you." you undo his pants, stroking his dick as it comes into view - his calloused touch is pulling you downwards and he watches with a strange amusement as his dick stretches you open, disappearing into you with a practiced ease - "mhm, feel good?" his hands are still on your waist, bouncing you up and down on his dick. his hand grabs ahold of your face, squishing your face into a forced pout, "answer me, baby." - "ngh- yes, yes, fuuc- k fuck-" you nod feverishly, your own hand playing with your tits, giving it the attention he refused to give you - at one point he removes his hands and tucks them behind his head, watching mesmerized as breasts move up and down with each shallow thrust, how your ass slapped against his skin when you came down and how your head was thrown back as sweat dripped off your collarbone - "fu-" he groans, turning you around again so that your back is against the bed again - he's fucking in and out of you, dick slipping out accidentally because of the slickness "fuck, do you see how wet you are?" "zoroo~ please, please-" "that's right, keep moaning my fuckin' name like that" he's pushing it back in, resuming his cruel pace - "inside. im gon' cum inside, okay?" you nod, head thrown back from the feeling of having your walls stretched out and fucked into - he collapses on top of you, breathing into the cranny of your neck, "that was so good, baby" - you fell asleep with sweat clinging onto your body and a sticky, hot fluid seeping out onto your thigh - he can get you cleaned up in the morning (after another round or two ig?)

a/n: well... that was long, hope you enjoyed lmao

#one piece #one piece smut #one piece x reader #zoro x reader #roronoa zoro x reader #zoro smut #roronoa zoro smut #luffy smut #sanji smut

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tarotwithavi · 10 months

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Your future spouse: personality

Positive and challenging sides

How to choose a pile?

Take a deep breath and gently close your eyes. Politely request your spirit guides to reveal the appropriate pile meant for you, then open your eyes. Whichever pile captures your attention is the one meant for you.

Masterlist

Paid services

Pile 1

Positive side : hello pile 1! Your future spouse is one smart cookie. They've got an insatiable curiosity that makes them a total brainiac. You'll often find them diving deep into complex ideas and theories, always hungry for knowledge. They've got this knack for seeing patterns and connections that others don't even notice. When you're stuck on a problem, just turn to them for some mind-blowing insights. Creativity runs through their veins. They've got a knack for coming up with innovative, out-of-the-box ideas. No boring solutions here! They're the kind of person who can turn the simplest of conversations into an exciting adventure of thoughts and possibilities. Their independent spirit is pretty inspiring too. They're comfortable doing their own thing, which gives them a unique sense of self-reliance. Fairness and objectivity are their jams. Emotions don't cloud their judgment; they rely on cool, logical thinking to make decisions. And when it comes to tackling tough problems, they're like Sherlock Holmes with a touch of MacGyver – they'll find a solution, no matter how tricky the puzzle. They seem to have more air energy, especially Gemini and Aquarius. They may have their Mercury in the 11th house.

Challenging side : Okay, so your future spouse might be a bit of an introvert. Social interactions aren't always their strong suit, especially when it comes to small talk. They're more like deep-thought conversations rather than chit-chat about the weather. And speaking of deep thoughts, they tend to overthink stuff. Simple decisions can turn into complicated quandaries in their minds. Practicality isn't their strong suit either. They've got a knack for brilliant ideas, but sometimes turning those ideas into reality can be a bit of a challenge. Routine? Yeah, not their thing. They get bored quickly with repetitive tasks and might struggle with focusing on the same thing for too long. Oh, and sometimes they can be like Mr. Spock – super logical, but not always the most sensitive. Emotions might not be their strong suit, and they might come across as a tad insensitive from time to time. And when they've made up their mind, it's like they've superglued their opinion in place. Changing their perspective? Good luck with that.

Pile 2

Positive side : welcome pile 2! I'm getting that Your future spouse is the kind of person who's always dreaming big and aiming for the stars. They have this incredible ability to come up with the most creative and imaginative ideas that you've ever heard. Whether it's art, music, or just day-to-day conversations, they infuse everything with their unique touch of creativity. You can count on them to be that empathetic and understanding partner you've always wanted. They really get you, and their genuine care and compassion make you feel truly seen and loved. Their open-mindedness is a breath of fresh air, and you can talk to them about anything without fearing judgment. Their unwavering commitment to their values is truly inspiring; you'll never find them compromising on what they hold dear. And when it comes to those times when you need a friend to lean on, they'll be there, providing unwavering support and a listening ear. Their flexibility and adaptability make navigating life's twists and turns an exciting adventure. They have heavy water energy especially cancer and Pisces. They may have personal planets in 4th, 8th or 12th house.

Challenging side : But, you know, your future spouse does have their moments. Their idealism, as charming as it is, sometimes takes them to places that feel a bit too far from reality. There might be times when their sensitivity comes across as a bit of an overreaction, leaving you wondering how to tread carefully. They're not the biggest fans of confrontation, which can be a good thing most of the time, but it also means that addressing certain issues directly might not be their strong suit. Oh, and the decision-making process? Well, let's just say it's not the quickest. Sometimes you'll be caught in a loop of considering pros and cons, which can be a tad frustrating when you just want a clear answer. And criticism? Yeah, that's a tough one. Your future spouse might struggle a bit with handling negative feedback; it's like they take it to heart a bit too much. There could be moments when they retreat into their own world, leaving you feeling a bit disconnected. But hey, remember, nobody's perfect, right? All these quirks just make them who they are.

Pile 3

Positive side : Alright, so your future spouse is a pretty cool cat. They're like a master strategist, always thinking five steps ahead in whatever they do. You can bet on them to come up with some seriously genius plans that nobody else saw coming. They've got this natural gift for analyzing stuff – they can see the big picture and all the tiny details, which makes them freakishly good at problem-solving. They are really smart. They have this insatiable thirst for knowledge, and they're not afraid to dive deep into topics that fascinate them. And trust me, their ability to think critically is off the charts. They're not just about book smarts, though. They've got this quirky sense of humor that might catch you off guard, and you'll find yourself laughing at their witty remarks. They're super independent and have this unshakeable confidence. They won't hesitate to tackle challenges head-on, even if it means going against the crowd. Their determination is downright inspiring. Plus, when they decide to share their thoughts and ideas with you, it's like getting a VIP pass to their brilliant mind. You'll never be short of engaging conversations with these guys. Your future spouse has more earthly vibes. I'm getting heavy Capricorn and Virgo vibes. They may have their Venus in earth or vice versa.

Challenging side : Alright, I'm getting that Your future spouse's brain is like a constant whirlwind of ideas, which sometimes means they can come across as a tad distant. They're so deep in thought that they might unintentionally tune out the world around them. You might need to remind them that Earth still exists lol. Their analytical nature can be a double-edged sword. Sure, they're great at solving problems, but sometimes they overthink things to the point where it feels like they're dissecting the meaning of life. Patience might be your ally when they go into full-on ponder mode. Another thing is their high standards. They have this vision of how things should be, and they won't settle for anything less. It's awesome that they strive for excellence, but it could lead to some frustration if things don't meet their expectations. And while they're great at giving advice, they might not always be the best at dealing with emotional situations. They tend to approach things with logic, even when emotions are in play.

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mickandmusings · 30 days

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love you, miss you, mean it

*this is a two part series, read part two here!*

**I recommend listening to 'love you, miss you, mean it' by luke bryan. it's a slight inspiration for this story and it's part two. (sorry, my southern roots are showing oops) **

pairing: bob floyd x f!kazansky!reader

word count: 2.6k

summary: before the daggers, before the uranium mission, before even top gun and 'bob', there was just young bobby floyd, finding himself at the doorstep of the kazansky household, year after year, finding family between a father and daughter, and a new understanding of true love.

(based off a request, but i'll post it when i'm finished with both parts, it will give too much away! <3)

warnings: lots of sticky sweet fluff, I accidentally made Ice a single dad??, 'Bobby' as Bob's civilian name, most likely military inaccuracies

The very first time Bob Floyd found himself standing on the Kazansky's front door, he was seventeen years old. He had parked his hand-me-down pickup truck on the street in front of the house, crossed the yard in record time, and rang the doorbell. He was standing on the welcome mat in a spiffy black tux, his sweaty palms clutching a plastic box that contained a corsage made of light purple flowers. Bob had no idea what kind of flowers they were, more than happy to leave that to the florist, but he knew they were the same color as the bowtie that seemed to be choking him. He was incredibly nervous, pushing his glasses up his nose in a repetitive nervous habit. His sapphire eyes caught a tall shadow approaching the door, and Bob felt his spine straighten, his heart hammering in his chest. Bob had heard the stories of Admiral Tom 'Iceman' Kazansky, US Pacific Fleet Commander (and more importantly, Y/N's dad) but now, as Iceman stared down at him, he began to realize he certainly lived up to his callsign.

The Admiral's eyes were a cool blue, piercing through the teenage boy's frame as he looked him up and down. He had seemingly only just arrived home from work, still in his Navy attire. His well-pressed, wrinkle-free Navy uniform made him appear taller than he was, a looming presence that demanded respect. The flat, stoic look on his face seemed permanent, only cutting into a small upturn as he spoke.

"You must be the Bobby I keep hearing about."

Bob nods, letting out a measly, "Yes sir," before sticking out a clammy hand to shake Y/N's father's hand.

The Admiral shakes his hand with a firm grip, squeezing Bob's hand so tightly that Bob swore his blood flow had been cut off. Finally, he opened the front door wider to allow Bob in, speaking as he shut the door back into the frame.

"You should probably take a seat, get comfortable. She's been giggling upstairs for hours now, but I doubt she's ready. You'll get used to it, waiting around until she's ready."

Bob chuckles nervously, sitting stiffly on the couch as he watches the Admiral stomp about the kitchen, seemingly making a cup of coffee. The silence is deafening, Bob is too nervous to say anything, but the man's booming voice soon cuts the quiet with ease.

"So, Bobby, Y/N says you're a military brat too, is that right?"

"Uh, y-yes sir, my father, he's in the service as well, my grandfather was too, sort of the Floyd family legacy."

The Admiral nods, absorbing the information.

"What about you, do you have any plans to-"

"Dad!" Y/N's annoyed voice broke the Admiral's sentence. Her heels clack down the wooden stairs, her dress whooshing in the wind created by her motion. Bob turned his attention in the direction of her voice, standing promptly, his jaw dropping as he took in the sight of Y/N. She was dazzling in her pastel purple gown, a slight smile on her face as she spoke. "Stop trying to recruit my prom date."

Y/N and her father shared a look, seemingly speaking without having to say a word before she broke out into a smile, matching the wide toothy grin of her father, before turning back to Bob, a slight pink blush forming across her cheeks. Bob blushed as he saw her walk into the room, making his way over to her.

"Y-You look," Bob swallows thickly, gaining his confidence. "You're beautiful."

Y/N blushes fiercely, straightening the lavender bowtie around Bob's neck.

"You clean up pretty well yourself."

The teenagers' awkward gazing is cut off by Ice clearing his throat loudly, his mug of coffee in his hand as he approached them.

"C'mon, kid. Your grandparents'll kill me if I don't get a thousand pictures of you two before you leave."

Y/N cut her eyes at Bob as he stuck his arm out for her to take, helping her over the threshold of the door and into the yard, the Admiral standing in front of them with his camera ready. They all went through the motions of a typical prom photo shoot-the corsage exchange, the awkward photos in front of the house, the send off.

Finally, she and Bob were down the road in his truck, Y/N smiling in his passenger seat, Bob's shoulders much more relaxed, not feeling nearly as tense in the presence of her looming father.

"Sorry about my dad," Y/N speaks over the music playing in the truck, squeezing Bob's hand where their hands intertwined on the console. "He's just a little protective, and, not very good at small talk." She chuckles lightly.

"No, no, it's fine. He was nice. Intimidating for sure, but nice. Made a joke that you take too long to get ready for everything."

"Of course he did," Y/N smiled and rolled her eyes, leaning her head on Bob's arm. The high school juniors had been dating for a little over six months, but both of them were head-over-heels.

The couple arrived and carried on as usual for teenagers on a prom night-mingling with their mutual friend and indulging on PTO-mom made snacks. As the night wrapped up, the last slow song of the night had Bob and Y/N swaying under the sparkling disco ball in the middle of the gym. Bob's tux jacket had been discarded on a chair hours ago, accompanied by Y/N's heels, both tossed about carelessly in favor of running back to the dance floor. Her head rested on his chest, his hands around her waist sweetly. Neither of them were paying much attention to the song playing, or the other numerous couples swaying next to them. Bob's blue orbs were focused entirely on the girl looking up at him from his chest, his hand moving to brush stray curls that had fallen in her eyes. As he looked at her face, his chest filled with warmth, a funny feeling erupting, one he had never felt before. His eyebrows furrowed, his forehead creasing.

"What's the matter, B?" Her voice came soft, just loud enough for both of them to hear.

"I love you," It came out blunt and honest, with no hesitation. Neither of them had said it before, and he watched as Y/N's face went from one of confusion to one of pure elation, a wide grin forming on her face as Bob lightly pulled her closer, their lips meeting in a kiss more meaningful than their previous ones.

That night, when Bob dropped her off back at her house, with the figure of her father sitting in their living room, he smiled as he helped her out of the truck and closed the door behind her. He walked her to the front door and kissed her again before saying goodnight, a permanent smile etched on his face. He watched her get into the house and waited for the porch light to turn off before peeling out of the driveway, his face aching from his never ending smile.

When he got into his own house for the night, his tux coat thrown over his shoulder, bowtie undone and his feet aching in his dress shoes, he collapsed onto his bed with a content sigh. His phone dinged with a new message, and he smiled as he saw Y/N's name flash across the screen. He opened it quickly:

I love you, too. I miss you already. Mean it.

A blush sprouted across his fair skin, typing back a reply as his heart soared.

Over the next few years, Bob found himself on the Kazansky doorstep hundreds of more times-weekend dates, barbecues, birthdays, study dates, movie nights, senior prom, just because, forgetting his house keys in Y/N's room, graduation parties, the list could go on and on forever. He had grown to find the Kazansky household his second home, Iceman's walls slowly melting towards the awkward boy his daughter loved. Y/N's father would allow him to stay over on long weekends and holidays through her first years of college and his of the Naval Academy, letting Bob tag along for family vacations. Bob slowly became an extension of the Kazansky family. Bob learned lots about the Admiral during his days and weeks of being in their home. Iceman loved things that made him seem less and less intimidating from when they first met. Tom Kazansky loved to make homemade banana bread, could often be found dozing off with a book in his hand, leaned back in the recliner closest to the front door, and the Admiral loved rom-com movies with a fierceness only championed by his own daughter. The father and daughter were a well-oiled machine, understanding each other in a way that Bob had never seen before. Bob would observe as the duo would work in fluid motion in the kitchen cooking dinner-knowing what each other was thinking without having to say a word. Y/N tossing her father spices and seasonings as he lifted the spoon to her mouth, and Iceman knowing just how she liked her coffee, her tea, and her favorite shape of ice. They knew one another inside and out, something Bob would often sit in awe of. It was a true display of love for one another, so loved that you know everything about someone, you know what they need without having to say a word.

When Bob had visited the Kazansky's over his final Christmas break from the Academy, he had expected the feeling of closeness and familial love. He found himself in the kitchen with Y/N, an Elvis Christmas record spinning in the living room adjacent. He wordlessly handed her the spoon from the pot he was stirring, her lips pursing as she thought for a moment, handing him a container of salt and other seasonings she knew were needed for the soup. Bob wordlessly adds an estimated amount in the pot before he stops abruptly, realizing what had just happened. His heart hammers, he and Y/N had been dating for nearly five years now, his time at the Academy coming to an end. They had suffered through nearly four years of a long distance relationship-he in Maryland at the Naval Academy, her attending college back in their hometown. They had made it through with phone calls and even letters, long lonely days and nights, and a love for one another that defied odds. He stopped stirring promptly, looking as Y/N was pressing cookie dough onto a pan, her eyes looking up at him.

"B? What's wrong? You look like you've seen a ghost." She smiled at him sweetly, wiping off her hands before placing them on his cheeks. "Do you feel okay? You're really red, you're warm. Do you think you're coming down with a cold?"

Bob couldn't make his dry mouth form many words, finally sputtering out a single sentence:

"I-I need to talk to your Dad."

Y/N's eyebrows furrow, looking at her boyfriend incredulously, as if he had grown another head.

"Um, okay? He's in his office. Bobby, are you okay?"

Bob nodded, leaning down to place a kiss on her head before racing off to the office on the second floor. Y/N only shook her head and continued making her cookies.

Bob knocks on the heavy office door, waiting for a response.

"It's open," Iceman's voice sounds from behind the thick mahogany colored door. Bob creaks open the door, Ice's cool eyes softening as he sees Bob enter.

"She drive you out of the kitchen already, Bob?" His voice was laced with humor. "She's too much like me, taking control of every situation. Sorry."

Bob laughs, "No sir, I just, needed to talk to you."

Ice narrows in on Bob's firmly serious expression, leaning back in his chair and looking at the boy man in front of him. Bob had grown up in the past few years, taller and more muscular thanks to the Academy. He only wore his glasses when required by the military, often opting for contacts when he was home, giving him a more mature look.

"What can I do for you, son?"

Bob's heart hammered in his chest. Was he planning on doing this now? No-he had planned for a lovely dinner, perhaps a walk on the beach before he did all of this. He had certainly, at least, planned on finishing the Academy before all of this, but after their interaction in the kitchen, the complete domesticity of it, paired with his overwhelming love for her, he knew now was the right time.

"Mr. Kazansky-"

Tom interrupts him, shaking his head in a good-natured manner. "How many times have I told you to call me Iceman, or Tom? I've known you for half a decade, I don't think the formalities are necessary."

Bob nods, understanding the man's warmth, but this was different.

"Any other time before this, and after this, sir, absolutely. But I'm coming to you for matters that pertain to Y/N, and I want this to be as respectful as possible."

Tom nods curtly, appreciating Bob's respectful nature, hands meeting in his lap as Bob speaks.

"Sir, I-," Bob swallows. He thought about this conversation a million times over and over as he stared at his ceiling at the Academy every night. "I love your daughter. I have for five years now. She is infinitely kind, and overwhelmingly beautiful. She's far too smart for me to keep up with most days, and she makes even my worst days bright. I think that's truly a testament to your parenting, she's the most headstrong yet considerate person I know. She loves fiercely, and looks after those she loves with the same fervor. She knows me unlike anyone else, and she's quickly become my feeling of home. Her music has taken over my truck, my headphones, and my inner thoughts. Her favorite movies have become part of my repertoire, and her favorite books sit next to mine on a bookcase in my room. Her things are scattered all over my apartment, and she is seeped into my every thought. When something good happens, she's the first person I want to call. When something bad happens, she's the first person I want to call. I want to spend the rest of my life with her by my side. I know this is sort of sudden, but I've spent every night for a year thinking about this, and I-I would like to marry Y/N. I graduate from the Academy in less than six months, and I'll be in aviation school, and I just-I want her to know she's a priority for my future. If I have your blessing, I would like to ask her before I go back to the Academy."

Tom's head nods, standing from his chair behind the desk, causing Bob to stand, Tom's palm meeting his in a handshake, a sign of respect. He suddenly pulls Bob into a hug, a tightness that is only matched by Y/N herself, the infamous Kazansky suffocating hug.

"You've got my blessing, kid."

Bob nods in understanding, pausing as he feels his phone vibrate in his pocket. He smiles lightly at Y/N's name and several emojis beside her name on the screen.

It's lonely down here. :( Love you, miss you, mean it.

He smiles at their simple loving joke that had survived from when she had first said it years ago. He pockets his phone again, looking up at Iceman with a newfound confidence.

"Thank you, Ice, sincerely. Y/N means more to me than I feel like I could express in words."

Tom's face breaks out into a smile, his eyes twinkling with something that might have been the beginning of tears, but that's yet to be confirmed. He lightly slapped a hand on Bob's shoulder.

"For what it's worth, you've got my permission. But it's not mine that matters, kid, it's hers."

part two out now!

#bob floyd x reader #top gun #top gun imagine #top gun maverick #bob floyd #bob floyd fluff #request

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