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cutielando · 3 months

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friendship bracelets ~ oscar piastri

instagram au

synopsis: Oscar’s girlfriend takes over the paddock and the hearts of fans with her love for friendship bracelets.

my masterlist

♡♡♡♡♡

liked by oscarpiastri, lilymhe and 2,385,284 others

📍Melbourne, Australia

y/n.insta who's ready for the Aussie GP????

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oscarpiastri i am !! 🧡🧡

y/n.insta baby you're racing, that doesn't count

oscarpiastri oh...

y/n.insta it's fine, you're too precious 🥹🥹🧡

user1 MOTHER AT THE GP ALERT ❗❗❗❗❗

user2 WE'RE GOING TO GET BRACELET OMGGGGG

user3 i live for Y/N's bracelets

francisca.cgomes are you bringing your bracelets?

y/n.insta of course i am

user3 we live for the bracelets

lewishamilton do you have my bracelet?

y/n.insta packed and ready !!

oscarpiastri why are you giving Lewis bracelets? 🤔

y/n.insta i gotta keep my customers happy

oscarpiastri you make money from this?

y/n.insta i do

oscarpiastri wanna make it a legit business?

y/n.insta let's do it

user4 did we just get confirmation that Y/N's starting a bracelet business?

user5 i think we did 🫢🫢🫢🫢🫢🫢🫢🫢🫢

user4 this is the best day of my life 😭😭😭

lilymhe i want one 🥹

y/n.insta of course babe !! 🥹

liked by francisca.cgomes, oscarpiastri and 2,485,273 others

y/n.insta watching my man do what he does best !!

view all 282,475 comments

oscarpiastri my lucky charm

y/n.insta i love you 🧡

user1 respectfully, don't you get bored during races?

y/n.insta to be honest, depends on the race. there really isn't that much going during the race itself, but i keep entertained by interacting with the fans around

user2 she is so precious for making time for fans

user1 omg y/n actually replied to me 😭😭😭😭

landonorris i barely see him when you're around

y/n.insta i'm more entertaining than you are 🤭

landonorris i need to spend time with him too

y/n.insta sucks to be you then

user3 not y/n and lando bickering like siblings

user4 are you from Aus as well?

y/n.insta i am !! mine and Oscar's parents were good friends growing up, we actually lived relatively close to each other

user5 the fact that Y/N actually makes time to respond to comments, make friendship bracelets for fans and talks to them during races just goes to show why she's the best WAG

user2 this is true, she's such a sweetheart and so down-to-earth, she definitely got used to being in the spotlight with Oscar

user5 and she really hasn't changed at all, the fame hasn't changed her at all as far as we can tell

user1 she's perfect for Oscar, she seems so extroverted and bring out his more sociable side

user3 the extrovert to his introvert 🥹🥹🥹🥹🥹

liked by y/n.insta, landonorris and 4,597,278 others

📍Melbourne, Australia

oscarpiastri PODIUM IN MY HOME RACE!!!! I can't believe we did it!!!! A massive thank you to the team, all the engineers who made this possible, the massive support the fans have showed me the entire weekend, but let's be honest that might be because of Y/N.

Y/N, I can't even begin to describe how much you being here with me means. You're always there for me, cheering me on and making sure I am doing okay. Your support means everything to me and I am so thankful I made you proud today. I love you 🧡

tagged: y/n.insta

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y/n.insta i am proud of you beyond words, oz🧡 you make me the proudest girlfriend in the whole world and i can’t wait to see what the future has in store for us. i love you forever, my love 🫶🏻

oscarpiastri i am so grateful for you 🧡

landonorris proud of you, little aussie. you two are disgusting, by the way

oscarpiastri thanks mate 🙏🏻

y/n.insta says the single guy

landonorris no need to attack me like that…

oscarpiastri sucks to be you, Lando

logansargeant congrats mate!

oscarpiastri thanks 🙏🏻

yourmother we're proud of you, Oscar!! thank you for being you and taking care of our little girl! we love you!!!

oscarpiastri i love you all too!! can't wait to see you!! y/n.insta we love you too, mum!!!!

user1 Oscar with Y/N's mother I'M SOBBING 😭😭😭😭😭

user2 WE'RE SO PROUD OF YOU OSCAAAAAAAAR

user3 i just know he drove so well because it's Australia and it's home for both him and Y/N

alex_albon good job, aussie

oscarpiastri thank youu

mclaren great job, Oscar! Papaya for the win!🧡 liked by y/n.insta and oscarpiastri

yoursister i've never heard y/n.insta scream so loudly in my life

y/n.insta why are you exposing me?

oscarpiastri don't worry babe, i think it's cute

y/n.insta i love you 🥹

yoursister ugh, why are you guys always like this

y/n.insta we're in love, leave us alone

user4 i need what they have

user5 i'm gonna go jump off a building now

liked by landonorris, alex_albon and 2,385,274 others

y/n.insta there are not enough words to convey just how proud I am of you and everything you're doing. your dedication is unlike anything I've seen before, your commitment and passion runs through your veins and pulsates every single moment. I love you, I am proud of you and I cannot wait for what the future holds for you. you're destined for great things, my love, and I will be there with you every step of the way. papaya for the win ! 🧡 tagged: oscarpiastri

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oscarpiastri my life would mean nothing without you by my side. i love you beyond words 🧡

y/n.insta 🧡🧡🧡🧡🧡🧡

landonorris why are you like this

y/n.insta i'm in love, something i'm sure is not all too familiar to you right now

landonorris you always have to bring that up, huh?

y/n.insta you attack, i attack back

oscarpiastri she's right

landonorris whose side are you on ????????

oscarpiastri hers

landonorris wow...the betrayal

user1 not Lando being unhinged in the comments hahahah

user2 they are so in love omg 🥹🥹🥹

user3 i need what they have🥹

lilymhe the love you two share is the purest thing ever

y/n.insta you're too sweet, lily 🥹

user4 i hate my life more than ever after reading this post

user4 why do i do this to myself

yourmother seeing you two warms my heart

y/n.insta we can't wait to see you tonight!!

oscarpiastri i'm looking forward to breaking all rules and eating your delicious meals

yourmother you deserve it!!

user5 i am in love with them

user6 her support of him makes me wanna crawl into a hole and die, she's so precious

landonorris why don't you support me like that too? i'm his big brother

y/n.insta i do

oscarpiastri she's only allowed to support me

y/n.insta don't listen to him

logansargeant you guys are so sweet, congrats mate !!

oscarpiastri thanks mate!

y/n.insta thanks logan 🥹

user7 i need what they have

user8 brb, gonna jump off a cliff real quick

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runningfrom2am · 3 months

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cold nights // part ten

summary: may the odds be ever in your favour.

pairing: coriolanus snow x fem!reader

wc: 3.3k

masterlists / nav / requests

tags/warnings: tribute!reader and mentor!coriolanus, r is very sweet (too kind for this world. literally.), sunshine x grumpy trope kinda, he falls first, violence typical for the source material, r is very smart (as she should), district twelve!reader.

a/n: playlist coming v soon!!

series masterlist // playlist

Coriolanus lets out a scream of anger as he pulls the weight of the cement block down on the boy again, dishing out every last bit of rage he had over the inconvenience he had caused. He had to. He was sure the tribute was already dead, but one more hit couldn't hurt- not when he needed to make sure he was really done; not when it felt so powerful the first time.

He's breathing heavily, staring down at the body in front of him with his curls falling in his face, preventing him from seeing reality. Shielding him from seeing you.

You open your mouth to speak, but you can't. To ask if he's okay, but clearly he is- that final blow was too late to be a hit out of desperation, panic, or pain. It was pure, unnecessary retaliation. It went against everything you stood for. Everything you said.

Coriolanus was Coriolanus indeed; you could see it in the darkness that suddenly appeared behind his eyes. It was like he had done it for fun.

He looks up only when you take a step back, shoe crunching over the rubble underneath your sole and alerting him to your presence.

"Y/N-"

You look between the boy you thought you knew and the battered body on the ground. You take another hasty step back.

The power he thought he felt was replaced instantly by guilt when he saw the look on your face. He wasn't sure your kind features were even capable of showing an emotion so abrasive as disgust- but that was all he could think of to describe what he had to guess was going on behind your eyes. Betrayal, maybe. Horror, even, at something he had done. He moves to take a step toward you, dropping the metal rod in his hand so maybe you'd give him the chance to explain but you were taking off like a bird in the street threatened by a moving car the second he moved a muscle. He freezes, hand extended toward you despite you being too far to reach.

You were scared. Of him.

He very quickly had more pressing matters than your understanding or coping with the idea that you had run from him since he was now hearing the war cry of Coral and her pack as they ran from the tunnels toward the exit he was standing under.

He was grateful you had fled before that, hoping they didn't see you before you hid away again. He hops back over the gate, grabbing Sejanus and forcing him through the front entrance just in time.

"For Coriolanus, when I am gone."

He reads over the words on the outside of the intricately folded note over and over again, sitting at his desk and trying to ignore the stitches pulling at his back. Sejanus had given the note to him when he was discharged from the hospital. A note from you. It was a goodbye, he knew it. Something about your delicate handwriting on the outside felt so sacred to him.

"My Dearest Corio,

For once, I cannot express with words what I need to say to you. Regrettably, Sejanus is waiting so I must find something to say soon. I'll begin with thank you. You told me not to thank you until you had done something for me, but what you didn't understand was that you already had. Having a friend at the end has meant the world to me. I wish I could tell my family about you. When I can't sleep at night, I think of how much they would love you, and how we could sit together in the field at night and look at the stars. I hope one day you get to see them.

I apologize that I have to ask one more thing of you. I admit, I do not know how your mentorship works, but I hope with all my heart that I have done enough for you to win your prize. I regret that I will never know. I'm sorry that you ended up with me, you deserved better. I feel like you weren't given a choice, though I know you would never admit that. I digress. All I ask is that you do not forget me. You don't have to feel guilt, or think of me all the time, I just hope you read Romeo and Juliet one day and guess which parts were my favourite. Or that if you're out on cold nights when the breeze chills your skin, you'll think of us. I also hope that is not too much to ask of you. I suppose, again, I will never know.

If I can take your position for a moment and mentor you; I have some advice I would like to offer. Be whatever you want to be, do what you want to do. Don't let anything or anyone stop you from being good. Your kindness, Corio, was not lost on me while I had the pleasure of knowing you. I've seen who you are, and I will never forget.

I must tell you posthumously that you are the closest thing to my own Romeo Montague I have been lucky enough to have in my life, but our story is different. You get to grow up, change, have a life, and fall in love. Please do. See the beauty in everything and do not let the cruelties of the world change the goodness in your soul.

"Alas, that love, so gentle in his view, Should be so tyrannous and rough in proof!"

With love and not nearly enough time,

Y/N

He couldn't resist unfolding the page in his hands and reading it. Every inch of the page was covered in your scrawled print, urgent from not wanting to keep Sejanus waiting for too long. You were still very much alive, but he was probably dead to you and he saw that in your eyes as you looked at him with nothing short of fear. He was supposed to be your Romeo, or at least you thought so when you wrote it. And he wanted that for you. He regrets so deeply that he took that perspective from you. It was a mistake- but maybe, if you won, you would see that for what it was and forgive him.

He wanted to crush up the note and throw it against the wall, tear it to shreds and light it on fire and burn away the fact he had ever met you, but he knew he didn't want to. It was all he would have left of you. He couldn't lose it, even if he hated himself for ruining what you could have had.

Instead, he folded it back up and put it on the shelf where his mother's compact once was before crawling into bed and crying until he finally passed out.

"You can explain it to her, Coryo. I know she will be reasonable." Tigris smiles sadly at him, helping him once again with his blazer following yet another back injury.

He hadn't said anything to trigger her sympathies this morning besides having puffy eyes in her presence. Though, the wall that separates their bedrooms is thin- it was likely that despite the muffling of his sheets, she had heard his cries. He had told her everything, he always did.

"Would you like me to come with you today? I can miss just one day of work, no harm will be done." His cousin offers. He wants to decline, her income is all they had, but if Coryo was being honest with himself, he needed someone in his corner.

"Okay." He agrees quietly and she smiles, patting the front of his uniform.

"I'll grab my things, can you wait a few moments?" She asks, already heading for her room.

"Of course." He nods. In another moment of self-honesty, he realizes he doesn't even want to go. But he had to be there. For you. If you had even survived the night.

When you decided there was enough daylight, you crawled back deeper into the vents. Seemingly you were safe there, if you had to guess it was almost noon and no one had bothered you. You were on your way to check on Jessup- that was a better use of your time than dwelling on what you witnessed last night and slipping deeper and deeper into a downward spiral.

You approach the grate in the vent you entered through, peeking in to see if he was still there. "Jessup?" You whisper, unable to see him. Worried when you get no response, you slide the cover off and hang your head out of it to look around. He was curled up against the wall across the room, and he looked distressed. Shaking, crying, skin ashen.

"Jessup?" You call toward him again, beginning to climb down to go check on him.

He's not responsive to you, not as you take a few hesitant steps closer. "Are you okay?"

His head snaps up to look at you. "Y/N?"

You smile a little, surprised he even remembered your name in his state. "Hi." You crouch down in front of him. "What do you need? Are you holding up okay?"

Again, no response.

"I'll get you some supplies." You whisper to him, knowing that if the microphones pick it up, Coryo would likely send you nothing when you emerge into the open area. He was very clear that you shouldn't share, but Jessup clearly needed help. He'd been down here for over a day without food or water, but now, you didn't know that you had anyone to help. You had Coryo and Sejanus, but now Sejanus hated you and Coryo was never who you thought he was. It had haunted you all night.

"I'll be back soon, okay?" You smile at Jessup reassuringly, standing and untying the scarf so you can get back up into the vents.

Coryo hadn't heard what you said to the boy, but when you reemerged from the vents after checking it was mostly clear, he knew what you were there for. It was decently safe, spare for Reaper who had collected and covered several bodies with a torn flag while you were gone. Making eye contact with him startles you, but you don't move. Neither does he. You give him a nod of understanding as he kneels next to the aboveground grave, which he returns. Lamina wasn't on her beam anymore, and that makes your heart clench. It took you a long time to get from one place to the next using the vents- anything could have happened in the time you weren't watching.

Now that you've established that you're safe, you look to the nearest camera with hopeful and tired eyes. Coryo knows you want to bring whatever he would send back down to Jessup.

He chews his lip, looking between you and the small screen in front of him. He shouldn't enable you to help another tribute, but it did look fruitless. Jessup was not well, not at all, and it would be a waste to even bother feeding him. At the same time, after what he had done last night, after what you witnessed, he would have to buy back your trust. Allowing you to help your friend is his only way to do that, at the moment. So he selects the water and sends it, followed by some bread.

You receive it, giving a weak, almost hesitant smile to the camera with the food and water tucked against your chest. "Thank you." He can only read your lips before you disappear again.

Climbing back out of the vent, this time with a water bottle and some bread in hand as you drop to the ground, you startle your friend. "Hey, Jessup." You say, raising your free hand to calm him. "I brought you something to eat."

You approach him carefully as he stares at you. You hold the items out to him, but he doesn't take them. "Do you want some help?" You offer, kneeling down in front of him. "Here," You tear off some of the bread and try to hand it to him. After not eating enough for so long, smaller pieces would probably be easier. "It may be a little dusty from the vent, but it's still good. You need to eat."

Then, without warning, he slaps the items out of your hand and shoves you back. "What did you do to it?!" He shouts as you fall back on your butt, quickly shuffling yourself back away from him.

"Nothing! Nothing, Jessup, shh, we gotta be quiet down here..." You try and calm him, still backing away.

"You're trying to kill me!" He yells, ignoring your pleas for him to be quiet, reaching for the now empty and broken water bottle that spilled out over the floor.

"I would never, I just want to help!" You try and assure him, standing up and backing away. Clearly, he doesn't want to talk as he's jumping at you, now with a weapon in hand.

You have to run. There's no time to get back into the vent, making a run for the door and throwing yourself through the hole at the bottom.

"Why would you do this?!" He shouts after you as you run down the halls of the tunnel, still trying to stay as quiet as possible through your heavy breathing. "What have you done?!"

"Lyssie- what is he doing?" Coryo asks his classmate next to him, thankful now that you are apparently such a fast runner.

"I- I don't know. He wouldn't betray her like this." She replies with a slight shake of her head, eyes glued to the screen.

"She's fast enough, but she can't get back in the vents while she's being chased." Coryo says, as if either of them could do anything, but he was as helpless as you were.

You slide to a halt in the long, rounded hallway when you see Coral round the corner in front of you. Jessup was sick, he wasn't fast, but you couldn't turn back. You were cornered, and there was nowhere to go but up. You look up, scanning the overhead vent system for a grate but see none. Turning quickly, you look along the ceiling toward Jessup as he makes his way toward you with the broken water bottle. You'd rather try your odds with him than Coral and the others.

Your eyes land on a grate just ahead of you as you hear footsteps and shouting closing in on you from both directions. With shaking hands you scramble to untie the scarf as you run back toward Jessup, throwing it back over the pipe and using all your strength to pull yourself up into the ceiling, hitting in the grate and pulling yourself inside. "Jessup, Jessup! Run! Hurry!" You try and urge him, but it's like he doesn't hear you, jumping to jab at you with the bottle. He misses, luckily, but Coral never does.

Coryo watches with bated breath while you struggle to pull yourself up, abandoning your friend to his fate. He cringes as he watches Jessup fall, the inflicted wounds being just hidden by Tanner's form and the buzzer goes off.

"Oh, and that's the end for Jessup as his district partner climbs into the ceiling!" Lucky's voice sounds distant to him. "Lysistrata, get out of here and Coriolanus, you may want to start packing your things as well."

He wouldn't budge. He's not packing a single thing until you're done taking your final breaths. Lyssie sighs and shakes her head, tears in her eyes as she pats Coryo's shoulder. "If this is it for her, I'm so sorry..." She apologizes before taking her leave.

Your heart is beating out of your chest as you pull yourself almost fully into the vent. You don't make it smoothly, though, crying out in pain as you feel the prongs of Coral's trident plunging into your calf. Your blood drips down your leg and on top of the other tributes as you finally make your way all the way in. You don't have time to feel any pain as you quickly crawl away. They know where you are, she could stab up into the vent just below you and catch you again- you had to find a way up farther.

"Y/N! We know where you've been hiding now, you're not safe in there!" Coral calls after you, and you have to ignore it as you slide through the metal tube, feeling it get slick from the blood pooling underneath you with every movement.

You don't hear them following you, though, so when you finally make it to where you can climb up to the next level, you feel a lot safer. Your chest is heaving as you sit up on the edge of the drop-down to the tunnels, just given enough room in the T intersection of the vents to take a breath and look at your leg.

You hiss as you lift your leg, assessing the puncture wounds. They wouldn't be fatal if you stopped the bleeding. You exhale shakily, pressing down on the flesh with your palms, pain shooting up your leg and into your back. You don't have anything to use to help besides the scarf, but it was Coryo's. You don't want to ruin it.

You didn't have a choice. You grab the material that you had dragged along with you, wrapping it tightly around the skin. "I'm sorry... I'm sorry,.." You cry, knowing he can't see or hear you.

Coryo is already panicking. Just like Highbottom had said, you could be dead in there and he wouldn't know. The panic only escalates when the cameras follow Coral, Treech, Tanner, and Mizzen as they go back up to the main floor, and Treech and Tanner go for the two main vent entrances, all of them too focused on you to even notice or care that Reaper was sat in the same clearing.

You don't hear it for a few minutes. The bleeding in your leg had mostly stopped, soaking the silk material by the time you heard the familiar clang of shifting metal. Someone else was in the vents.

You look behind you, trying to discern which direction they were coming from, but it was nearly impossible to tell with the echo. You had to move, but you could be crawling right into your fate. Maybe you should just stay and wait and let it happen.

As the noises got closer from both sides, accompanied by coughing from the dust, you knew you couldn't just wait. You'd made it this far, and as far as you knew, no one else knew the vents nearly as well. That was an advantage you had sought from the very beginning, and now was the time to use it.

You gently lower yourself down to slide back the way you came, hitting the bottom level with a bang before ducking out of sight and around a corner. It couldn't have been Coral up there, she would be taunting you by now, but she wasn't. It was quiet until you heard whispers up from where you just were.

"There's blood on this side. She must have gone back down." You recognize Treech's voice when you hear it, and you hold your breath as you fiddle with the compact in your pocket. Stroking your thumb over the carved metal over and over again, trying to stay quiet. "Look, there's a trail going that way."

"Down we go, then." Tanner replies, making your heart stop. You couldn't fight them off, you knew that, and there was a trail of your own blood that would lead them straight to you. You couldn't hide.

You slowly pull the compact from your pocket, turning it over in your palm. You swore you wouldn't participate in the games. You wouldn't harm anyone. But maybe, if you 'accidentally' spilled its contents in the vent before you had to move on, they would stop following you.

Before you can think too much about it, you're holding your breath and opening the small clasp. It just looked like salt. Yeah. It's salt. You already believe it as you gently tip the container, making a thin line of the substance across the bottom of the vent. Salt is for protection. The salt will keep me safe.

You pocket the compact again and quietly crawl away.

taglist: @soulessjourney , @dreamyysouls , @rockstarbfs , @maysileeewrites , @baybieruth , @kitscutie , @fratboyharrysgf0201 , @totallynotkaibiased , @stelleduarte , @secretsicanthideanymore , @bejeweledreverie , @drewsandsebastianswife , @niicole-87 , @innercreationflower , @nallasstuff , @baybieruth , @scorpiolystoned , @iovemoonyy , @thatmarvelchick19 , @wearemadeofstardust0 , @regulusblackcore , @puredreamagination , @fantasticchaosthing , @becauseseaotters , @secretsicanthideanymore ,

okay suddenly tumblr isn't letting me tag more people than this so i just made some cuts unfortunately :') i just left the max amount of people i could whose users i recognized and see in my notifs all the time :) if you're not on here and you should be i'm so sorry! hopefully for part eleven it'll be business as usual!

also this taglist is closed now!! if you’d like to get a notification when i update, turn on my post notifications!! i promise i won’t spam y'all :,)

#tbosas #tbosas fic #tbosas fanfiction #tbosas x reader #hunger games #thg #thg series #thg fanfiction #the hunger games #coriolanus snow #coriolanus snow x reader #coriolanus x reader #coriolanus x you #coriolanus fanfiction #coryo x reader #coryo snow #snow x reader #snow lands on top

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kingofbodyrolls · 3 months

Text

Stuck at a Christmas party (m) | pjm

*Part of ’the winter collection’.

Summary: It’s Seokjin’s Christmas party and you’re trying your best to be social with your friends, but it’s really hard when you feel the burning stare of your nemesis, Park Jimin, lighting your skin on fire. It doesn’t help when you feel his hand between your legs under the dinner table.

Pairing: Jimin x female reader AU + genres: enemies to lovers, pwp (very little plot – let me be honest, it’s just pure smut). Humor/crack, smut. Rating: Mature/explicit/R18 - this is mature/explicit content, so minors, please do not interact. Word count: 5,1K Disclaimer: I do not own BTS or know them personally and this work of fiction is purely fictional and for entertainment purposes only. The actions and personalities described in the story do not reflect those of BTS— it’s just fiction. Also, if you would kindly read the tags/warnings before reading, that would be lovely: and if you don’t like whatever is described in the tags, just hit return and find something else to read. Thank you 🌸 Warnings (explicit): exhibitionism, fingering, oral (male receiving), orgasm denial, cum eating, creampie, unprotected sex, choking (in a sexual context), degrading name calling (brat), hair pulling, dirty talk, multiple orgasms.

Taglist: @yopjm

Author’s note: the snowstorm couple are back!!! 🥳 For reference, please think of GDA 2019 Jimin with his sleek black suit when reading this 🥵

ℹ️ This is part of ‘The Winter Collection: Stories with the Snowstorm Couple’, it can still be read as a stand-alone though!

I am going on a hiatus, but I wanted to post this before I left…

As you stand there, befuddled and speechless, you can't fathom how Seokjin deduced the intimate encounter between you and Jimin, your mortal enemy. The questions swirl in your mind—how, what, and why—leaving you utterly mystified.

Rage simmers within you, and you clench your hands into tight fists, resembling an enraged child ready to lash out. However, before you can unleash your fury, Jimin beats you to the punch with a nonchalant explanation, “We got cold.”

Your jaw drops once more as Jimin strolls past you and Seokjin, casually hanging his coat on the rack and discarding his shoes. He carries himself as though what transpired between you is the most ordinary thing in the world.

Seokjin's laughter, that annoying windshield wiper sound, echoes in the air. It grates on your nerves, and the urge to smack him for it intensifies. However, he ushers you inside, and with a frustrated sigh, you release your petty thoughts, letting your shoulders slump in resignation.

“Not a word to the others!” you hiss, jabbing your finger forcefully in Seokjin's face. It's crucial to drive the point home; the last thing you need is for the rest of your friends to find out. The mere thought of enduring their endless teasing is unbearable.

Seokjin mimics zipping his mouth shut with exaggerated hand gestures, and you shoot him a stern glare for good measure, silently urging him to grasp the gravity of your seriousness.

Seokjin accompanies you into the living room, where Jimin lounges on a couch, wearing that infuriatingly smug expression. Despite the lingering resentment, he acknowledges you with a subtle nod, licking his lips teasingly. A shiver snakes down your spine at the suggestive gesture, and you can't shake the feeling that this evening is destined to be nothing short of torturous.

The music pulses through the air, creating a lively atmosphere that encourages conversation with friends. Despite the chatter and laughter around you, there's an undeniable sensation of being watched. Your attempts to catch up with girlfriends are accompanied by the persistent feeling of a gaze, like smoldering embers, leaving your skin tingling with heat.

It's Jimin, his captivating dark brown eyes following your every move, setting you ablaze amidst the festive chaos.

Despite your best efforts to steer clear of him throughout the evening, the inevitable moment arrives when dinner is served. The grand table is a vision of Christmas elegance, adorned with festive ornaments and pristine white plates boasting delicate gold rims. As you approach, the once plentiful seats have dwindled, leaving only two vacant spots side by side. The realization hits you like a silent shock – everyone is settled in their places, except for one person: Park Jimin.

A smirk dances on Jimin's lips as your eyes lock, and with a gentlemanly flourish, he pulls out the chair for you. The attention of your friends is inevitably drawn to the unfolding scene, their curious glances making you squirm. You take your seat, feeling the weight of Jimin's gaze as he elegantly settles his perfect plump ass in the chair beside you.

Amidst the lingering stares and unspoken questions, you divert your attention to the spread before you, purposefully loading your plate with an array of delectable dishes. The clinking of cutlery becomes a welcome distraction, and for a brief moment, you find solace from the constant scrutiny of Jimin's eyes that have tracked your every move since you arrived.

Engulfed in the lively chatter around the table, you savor each bite while selectively tuning in to the diverse conversations unfolding. The clinking of cutlery and the hum of laughter weave a symphony that, for a moment, allows you to lose yourself in the festive atmosphere.

Your senses tingle as a warm sensation caresses your thigh, an unmistakable touch that sends a jolt of awareness through your entire being.

A rush of longing surges through you, an electric pulse that ignites every nerve, and without needing to glance down, you're keenly aware of Jimin's hand, a potent source of warmth, intimately tracing the contour of your thigh. As he gives it a firm, possessive squeeze, you close your eyes, surrendering to the tantalizing dance of desire that envelops you.

A relentless wave of need courses through you, the mere touch of Jimin's hand on your thigh igniting a fiery pool of arousal in your core. It's almost absurd, the intensity of your response—his hand, just on your thigh, and yet it feels as if the entire universe has conspired to stoke the flames of desire within you.

His attention remains fixed on the conversation with Namjoon, his eyes avoiding yours, but the impact of his touch on your thigh is impossible to ignore. The simple act of eating becomes an insurmountable challenge as his hand, like a brand, leaves an indelible mark on your senses. The silk of your dress offers little resistance to the searing heat emanating from his touch, rendering the task of composing yourself an elusive feat.

You grit your teeth, attempting to conceal your mounting frustration, and in a clandestine exchange of glances with Seokjin seated across from you, you're convinced he sees right through the charade. Damn it all.

Jimin's hands persist in their exploration, journeying beneath your dress and ascending higher on your thigh. A stifled gasp escapes your lips, your attempt to conceal the pleasure coursing through you as his fingers delicately trace the contours of your panties.

Your mind races as he inches perilously close to your core, your pussy pulsating with anticipation. Damn, the intensity of the sensation is overwhelming.

His apparent nonchalance fuels your frustration. How can he engage in casual conversation with Namjoon, seemingly unfazed, while his hand stealthily explores the contours of your thigh beneath the table? The audacity, especially in the midst of your friends, leaves you seething with a mix of desire and irritation.

His fingers delicately dance over the fabric that shields your pulsating core, sending a shiver down your spine. Conflicting desires surge within you – an undeniable craving for his touch and the hesitation born from the inappropriate setting, surrounded by the prying eyes of your friends.

With deliberate slowness, he trails his fingers along the edge of your panties, expertly sliding them to the side. A single finger ventures into your slick folds, and an involuntary exclamation of desire escapes your lips. Fuck!

Panic and pleasure collide within you as your body ignites with an uncontrollable fire. Fumbling for composure, you desperately try to conceal the intoxicating sensations Jimin's hand is orchestrating beneath the table. Casting a surreptitious glance at your friends, relief washes over you—it appears they remain oblivious to the clandestine dance Jimin is leading on your fevered skin. Thank god.

Your entire being tenses as an electric current courses through you, a silent struggle unfolding within as you grapple with the urge to control your escalating breaths, ensuring each intake is hushed and every gasp remains concealed.

Jimin's fingers expertly plunge in and out of you, a relentless rhythm that leaves you quivering in your seat. The addition of a second digit amplifies the sensations, intensifying the shivers that course through you. Fuck you, Park Jimin!

You shoot him an incredulous look, but he remains unfazed, deep in conversation with Namjoon as if his fingers aren't skillfully working their magic on you. Frustration bubbles within you, the tightening knot in your stomach threatening to unravel. Shit.

His fingers abandon your pulsating core, and just when you dare to hope for a reprieve, he redirects his attention to your swollen clit. Electric jolts course through your body, and an involuntary flinch escapes you, catching the curious gaze of your friends. The intensity of his touch threatens to betray the secrets you're desperately trying to keep under wraps.

“Are you okay?” Concern etches across Hoseok's face as he leans in, his voice laced with worry. His eyes search yours, dissecting the panic in your stare and the sudden gasp that escaped your lips.

Summoning every ounce of strength, you lift your chin and strive for confidence as you reply, “Y-yes.”

Even as the words leave your lips, their uncertainty rings in your ears, a desperate plea that he won't press for more answers.

The sensation of Jimin's fingers expertly tracing figure eights on your clit sends electric chills down your entire body. Your thighs clench involuntarily, and you find yourself biting your lip, desperately trying to stifle any sounds that might betray the pleasure coursing through you. It's a delicate dance between ecstasy and secrecy, his skilled touch weaving a spell that makes it increasingly difficult to maintain your composure.

As Jimin's fingers work their magic, your heart races, and the sensation is akin to running a marathon. A lone bead of sweat forms on your hairline, evidence of the intensity building within you. Fuck Jimin, unraveling you like this in front of your friends. The promise of payback simmers in your mind, determined to teach him a lesson he won't soon forget.

As your breath quickens, the telltale signs of impending release manifest—quivering thighs betraying your desperation.

You're on the verge, yearning to pry Jimin's hand away from your pulsating core. The last thing you want is to climax in front of your friends; the situation is already precarious. Imagining their potential disgust only adds to the thrill.

The forbidden allure of the moment perplexes you—why does the idea of their judgment fuel your arousal?

Despite your futile attempts to swat his hand away, Jimin remains resolute, intensifying his efforts to push you over the edge. A determined glint in his eyes, he skillfully manipulates your senses. As he continues to stimulate your clit, a rush of liquid heralds your surrender, leaving you slumped against the table, your body succumbing to the waves of pleasure.

An electric surge courses through your body, causing every muscle to tighten, your clit pulsating beneath his expert touch. Desperately trying to collect yourself and avoid drawing attention, you navigate the fine line between pleasure and discretion.

Yoongi's concern cuts through the haze, and he observes, “Are you alright? You seem out of it.”

A quiet, low moan escapes your lips, and in that moment, you become acutely aware of how disheveled and spent you must appear—fatigued and lost in a dazed gaze. Rising from your chair, Jimin's hand reluctantly withdraws from your core, and as your dress gracefully descends with your movement, you manage to murmur, “T-toilet,” your chest heaving with the lingering waves of lust.

In a frenzied hurry, you bolt into the bathroom, your hands gripping the edge of the sink, and you confront your disheveled, panting reflection in the mirror. It feels pathetic, the way Jimin effortlessly coaxed an orgasm from you under the table, using only his fingers. The realization hits hard – you are undeniably and thoroughly fucked.

Inhaling deeply, you attempt to steady yourself just as the bathroom door creaks open, heralding the impending return to the outside world.

As you gaze into the mirror, the source of your overwhelming frustration materializes before you: none other than Park Jimin.

You emit a hiss, a potent blend of frustration and arousal, as your eyes lock with his. Despite the turmoil, you can't deny the magnetic pull of his irresistible gaze, a look saturated with sin, his eyes half-lidded, and his tongue seductively gliding across his lips.

You sense your core clenching with a frustrating ache, an insistent reminder of desire for the infuriating man you both despise and secretly crave.

He teasingly presents his fingers to you, wiggling them suggestively as a sly grin plays on his lips, “You came.”

Your gaze locks onto him in utter disbelief—did he stroll around casually with your essence adorning his fingers?

“Suck them dry,” he commands, a smug smirk playing on his lips as he surveys the aftermath—your flushed cheeks and the deep rhythm of your breaths.

His words linger in the air, a challenge you're quick to accept. Without hesitation, you wrap your lips around his digits, tasting the remnants of your essence. His low groan reverberates as he watches you skillfully suck him dry, a silent dance of desire between you.

With each deliberate suck, you reclaim every trace of your essence from his fingers. When the task is accomplished, you fix him with an intense gaze, a silent challenge in your eyes, daring him to unleash the pent-up desire that simmers between you.

“Can’t stop thinking about me?”

Your gaze locks with his, a mischievous glint in your eyes as you bat your lashes, feigning a sense of dominion you both know is illusory. He meets your challenge with a smug smirk, dragging his tongue over his lips, and in that moment, the taste of him floods your senses, a lingering memory that refuses to be forgotten.

You want more so you decide to match Jimin's honesty with your own vulnerability. As the words escape your lips, confessing, 'I can't get you out of my head either,' a gust of candid truth hangs in the air. The charged atmosphere between you two becomes palpable, an electric tension that leaves you yearning, your desperation laid bare.

With a sultry whisper, you proposition him, your voice dripping with desire. Your eyes linger provocatively on the pronounced bulge in his pants as you suggest, “I can suck you off. It’s the least I can do.”

He skillfully unbuckles his belt, swiftly unzips his pants, and sensually lowers both his trousers and underwear, unveiling his throbbing, substantial dick that eagerly springs forth.

Your tongue darts out to moisten your lips, the lingering taste of him still fresh in your memory, and an undeniable yearning builds within you, an insatiable desire to descend upon him just as you did in the heated confines of the car a mere few hours ago.

He strides purposefully toward the toilet, ceremoniously lowering the seat, and with a provocative gesture, positions himself on it, legs enticingly spread, an open invitation for you to draw near and indulge in the feast of his dick.

You swiftly descend to your knees on the welcoming warmth of Seokjin's floor, grateful for the cozy indulgence of heated tiles. Running your tongue across your lips, you seize his throbbing cock with a determined hand, evoking a hiss of pleasure from his lips.

“Fuck! I missed you.”

“It's only been a few hours, Jimin,” you chuckle before enveloping his pulsating dick in your saliva-coated warmth. He fills your mouth perfectly, and you establish a steady rhythm, savoring the delicious anticipation in the air.

You skillfully handle what can't fit in your mouth, teasing with your hand. Jimin throws his head back, emitting a delicious moan in response to your artistry. Sucking him off with an intensity that borders on desperation, you flatten your tongue and expertly play with his frenulum, eliciting a hiss and soft moan from him.

With a firm grip on your hair, he tugs at your ponytail once more. Drool drips from your mouth as you glide over his cock, expertly hollowing your cheeks to create the perfect suction.

His fingers tighten in your hair, urging you further. Breathing in and out through your nose, you navigate down to his pubic hairs, humming sensually around his dick. The subtle shiver you feel from him fills you with a sense of pride, knowing the impact you're having on him.

“Fuck. You’re so good,” he moans, pulling your hair tighter in his grip, the raw desire in his voice sending shivers down your spine.

“Shit, I’m close already,” he gasps, his voice breathy with anticipation, and you can sense the pulsating urgency of his cock in your mouth, signaling that he's on the brink of release.

Unexpectedly, you withdraw from his throbbing cock, leaving him suspended on the precipice of release. His eyes widen in disbelief, watching as you sensually lick your lips, a spark of mischief and fiery playfulness dancing in your gaze.

“Brat. Finish what you started!”

His demand hangs in the air, laden with urgency, but you defiantly shake your head, a smug smirk playing on your lips. In this tantalizing game of desire, you've decided to level the playing field, returning the favor with a mischievous glint in your eyes.

With a sly smirk stretching across your face, you assertively declare, “No.” Your lustful desire is unmistakable as you deliberately pull away, leaving him hanging. “You made me come in front of our friends, embarrassing me. So now,” you add with determined confidence, “you don't get to come.”

As you swing the door open, you exit, leaving him in the bathroom, his fully erect dick on full display, a silent challenge echoing in the air.

“Fucking brat!” His voice reverberates through the air, a raw and frustrated yell, trailing after you as you make your exit.

A mischievous laughter escapes your lips, an odd mix of satisfaction and empowerment swirling within you. Striding back to the table with your friends, you effortlessly dive back into the conversation, as if leaving Jimin high and dry is just another casual move in your repertoire.

There's a subtle thrill in knowing that maybe, just maybe, you've imparted a lesson on not messing with you.

After a few minutes, Jimin saunters back to the table, and you can't help but notice the lingering outline of his arousal beneath his pants. Apparently, he didn't tend to his needs as you assumed he would. The intrigue in the air grows thicker, adding a layer of curiosity to the already charged atmosphere.

The remainder of the evening unfolds without any further advances from Jimin, and despite the undeniable tension in the air, you manage to restrain yourself, keeping your hands to yourself. The pulsating undercurrent of arousal lingers, fueled solely by the magnetic pull of Jimin's presence.

Dinner concludes, and after lending a hand with the cleanup, the music swells to an even higher volume, enticing people to the dance floor. Amid the lively atmosphere, you join in the dance with your girlfriends, playfully swaying your hips to the rhythm. The pulsating energy is infectious, but beneath the neon lights and thumping beats, you sense Jimin's intense gaze fixed on yours once more.

Sensations of arousal ignite within you, yearning for a more intimate connection that goes beyond the pulsating dance floor. Amidst the crowd, you feel a magnetic pull, a desire for his crotch to be the one you're grinding against. However, such an encounter isn't suitable in the presence of your friends. Suddenly, Jimin materializes on the dance floor, seizing your hand and drawing you into a close embrace. His warm breath grazes your ear as he utters, “Come with me, brat.”

He pulls you away from the pulsating crowd of friends, a flicker of distress in your eyes, yet a clandestine thrill seeping through your veins. The covert glances from your friends affirm that they caught the provocative scene. With determination, he leads you into a secluded room, the door securing your privacy with a decisive click.

His eyes blaze with an inferno of lust, an intensity that borders on fury. There's a dangerous edge to his gaze, and he licks his lips with a hunger that suggests he's poised to consume you whole.

“Some nerve you have,” he begins, a low growl in his voice as he presses you backward, drawing you closer to a waiting bed, its presence dawning on you like an ominous realization.

Nervousness courses through your body, a relentless tide, as he exerts control over you with the sheer dominance of his presence.

“Leaving me like that, you fucking brat,” he hisses, forcefully pushing you down onto the bed.

Despite your nerves, a chuckle escapes your lips, “Well, I think it was only fair.”

“Do you?” he raises an eyebrow, his face hovering dangerously close to yours, the air thick with anticipation.

“Fuck. What do you do to me?” he murmurs, diving in to kiss your lips. Your hands instinctively find his cheeks, and you melt into the soft, plush sensation of his mouth, lost in the intoxicating dance of his lips.

Instantly, your body relaxes, and you wrap your legs around his waist, provocatively pressing your core against his erect dick, eliciting a hiss of pleasure from him.

“I could say the same to you,” you pant, “and I don't even like you. I don't understand,” you murmur between kisses, grappling with the conflicting emotions that the intensity of the moment brings.

“But I want you. Damn it, I want you to fuck me so bad,” you confess with a breathless mixture of desire and urgency, punctuating your words with a daring roll of your hips, leaving no room for ambiguity about your craving for him.

“Fuck.”

He unbuckles his belt with a purpose, the metallic clink resonating with the promise of what's to come. Swiftly, he unzips his pants and skillfully lowers them along with his underwear, gracefully joining you on the bed with a hunger in his eyes.

His arousal is evident, his dick appearing more heated and flushed than ever. The crimson hue tells a tale of the desire he harbors, heightened by your previous act of leaving him hanging and hungry for more.

“You’re such a brat. I’ll fuck you senseless.” His voice, a sultry promise, sends shivers down your spine. With a self-assured stroke of his dick, he spreads your legs, deftly teasing your underwear aside.

Hovering above you, his breath dances on your skin as he murmurs in your ear, “I’m going to shut that pretty mouth of yours up.”

Your body quivers in response as he deftly lifts your legs over his shoulders. In this moment, he appears both commanding and delicate, a paradox you can't help but be drawn to. As your moans escape, his eyes light up, as if you hold the key to his universe. Yet, the bitter truth remains—you are enemies, drowning in mutual hatred despite the intensity of the desire that binds you.

His fingers dance over your sensitive folds, ensuring the cascade of wetness that engulfs you. You're a river in anticipation, and he chuckles, pulling back a glistening digit to savor your essence. His words, whispered with satisfaction, echo in the room, “You taste so good.”

You moan, your body craving his touch, and impatiently inquire, “What's the hold up?”' as you yearn for him to fulfill his promise to ravish you.

In the dim light, he chuckles down at you, gripping his hard dick once more and skillfully aligning it with your eager entrance. The head of his cock nudges your folds, eliciting a desperate mewl of pleasure from your lips. Despite the intense disdain you harbor for him, all you crave now is to feel him deep inside you.

With a powerful thrust, he impales you on his dick, plunging deep into your core with reckless abandon. A primal scream of his name tears from your throat, echoing in the room, encapsulating the sheer intensity of the moment. “Fuck, Jimin!”

His grin turns wicked, a hint of danger in his eyes, as he accelerates, showing no mercy and denying you any chance to acclimate. Every powerful thrust widens and fulfills you in the most exquisite way, leaving you breathless and aching for more.

Though mere hours have passed, the yearning for his dick consumes your thoughts. The magnetic pull of his desire leaves your mind shrouded in dangerous fantasies that dance provocatively through the corridors of your consciousness.

“Fuck, you’re still so tight.”

Moans of pleasure escape his lips, breathless and raw, as he utters your name in a fevered whisper. Holding your legs aloft, he thrusts into you, skillfully navigating the depths, each movement a calculated dance that hits your soft spot with precision, sending ripples of ecstasy through your body.

His intoxicating scent envelops your senses, a heady mix of musk that clouds your mind. The rhythmic dance of his tie brushing against your dress on your tummy mirrors the cadence of his thrusts.

Amidst the tumultuous waves of pleasure, you find yourself caught in a paradox of conflicting emotions. “Fuck, Jimin. I hate you. I don't understand,” you blabber, your words intertwining with the rhythmic surges of arousal coursing through your body. With each relentless thrust, the coil in your stomach tightens, weaving a complex tapestry of desire and disdain.

“I do,” he utters, punctuating his words with a forceful thrust that reverberates through your core, causing a symphony of sensations to cascade through your body.

“You like me, that's why,” he pants, each powerful thrust resonating through your pussy, an electrifying dance of pleasure and desire. It's a truth you're reluctant to acknowledge, and as your heart races, you turn your head away, unable to meet his intense gaze, even as your body betrays your feelings.

“No, no, you look at me while I fuck you, brat,” he seethes with anger. He presses himself down on you, your legs parting to rest on the sides of his arms. His hands find their way around your throat, giving it a light squeeze as he maintains the fast pace of his hard thrusts. The intensity in his eyes matches the fervor of the moment, a collision of passion and dominance that leaves you breathless.

He forces you to turn your head toward him, and the grip on your throat tightens even more. “Just admit that you like me, brat,” he demands, his voice a potent blend of authority and desire, making your heart race as you navigate the thin line between resistance and surrender.

Your mind swirls in a hazy mist, a product of his presence or the firm grip around your neck — it's hard to discern. Yet, amidst the uncertainty, there's an undeniable thrill that courses through you, a strange liking for the intoxicating blend of dominance and desire.

Released from his grasp, you inhale desperately, your breaths echoing the tumultuous whirlwind of emotions within. With the tightening coil in your stomach, you reluctantly admit, “Fine... I don't hate you.”

His hands reclaim your throat, a firm grip that mingles pleasure and restraint, synchronized with the rhythmic precision of his thrusts hitting every exquisite spot within you. “That's not good enough, brat,” he growls, his control both intoxicating and exhilarating.

“I know you like me, because your body tells me so,”

“I know you like it when I choke you, because you clench so much around me when I do,”

“Your body can’t lie, brat.”

Holy fuck. He’s right. At least in some parts. Your mind is a tempest of desire, clouded with thoughts of him, and suddenly you’re screaming, the sound muffled by his firm hands around your throat. Your body spasms uncontrollably, a tidal wave of pleasure crashing around his pulsating dick.

“Fuck. Yeah, cream my dick, brat.” he maintains his relentless thrusts, your orgasm surging through you like a wild storm, leaving you with a symphony of sensations and a loud ringing sound in your ears.

His hands finally release their grip on your neck, and you find yourself panting for air, gasping his name with a mixture of desperation and lust, “J-Jimin, fuck.”

“You’re doing so good. Even if you behave like a brat. Fuck. I’m so close.”

And then his thrusts become erratic and even more frantic, as he desperately seeks his own climax.

“Fuck, Jimin, just like that!” you scream as he relentlessly targets your sweet spot, igniting the familiar coil in your stomach once more. Fuck.

Jimin seems to sense your escalating pleasure, and one of his hands skillfully finds your clit, circling it with a tantalizing touch that nearly makes you scream. “Shit!”

He skillfully pinches your clit, and suddenly, you see stars—you're gone. Squirts of your release gush out, painting his pubic hairs, and Jimin gazes down at you. You thrash around the bed, frantically breathing, your muscles tightening as your vision becomes a canvas of small, white dots.

“Damn. You just squirted all over me,” he breathes in a soft voice, a hint of adoration laced within. However, you can't really decipher his tone as you're lost in the moment, your ears ringing again.

“Damn, that's hot,” he exclaims and thrusts into you again, releasing his warm load inside you with a scream of your name.

He continues to thrust into your core, the rhythm slowing down to a more sensual pace. Your body feels dazed and sweaty, the dress clinging uncomfortably to your skin, the satin now undoubtedly soaked through.

You gasp for air, still catching your breath. “Fucking hell, that was amazing, Jimin.” He chuckles, offering you a gentle smile that quickly transforms into his trademark smirk.

His laughter dances through the air, accompanied by a mischievous glint in his eyes. “You know, we can totally do this again,” he says, a teasing smirk playing on his lips. You can't help but roll your eyes, though deep down, the idea doesn't seem entirely unwelcome. Keeping a sense of mystery, you respond with a playful glint in your eyes, “Maybe.” The rebellion in your spirit mirrors the dance of sparks between you, a familiar game of push and pull that seems destined to continue.

“Brat.”

He chuckles, yet defies the teasing nickname by bending down to kiss you; it’s sweet and tender, a stark contrast to how he just fucked your brains out.

You cast a dismayed gaze at your drenched dress, muttering, “I can't go out in this,” and you groan, feeling the uncomfortable cling of the fabric to your skin, an unwelcome sensation adding to the aftermath of your heated encounter.

“How about we raid Seokjin’s closet?” he suggests, winking with a playful lift of his brows and a light chuckle.

“Is this Seokjin’s room? Did we just fuck on his bed? Damn, he’s going to be furious!” You burst into laughter at the absurdity of the situation. “No way! Imagine if everyone finds out we fucked.” You shriek, wildly waving your hands in the air, the possibility suddenly sinking in.

“Why are you so hell-bent on keeping it a secret?” he asks, genuinely curious, a playful glint in his eyes as he chuckles at your distress.

“Because you're my sworn enemy,” you state matter-of-factly, giving a nonchalant shrug.

“Are you sure about that?” he teases, his eyebrows wiggling playfully. You can't help but roll your eyes at his cheeky demeanor once again.

“And I think they already know,” he laughs, amusement dancing in his eyes as he observes your irritated expression. You groan into your hands, grappling with the realization that he might be right. However, you're determined to cling to any shred of hope you can find.

“We'll just stay up here until my dress is dry,” you declare, as if it's the most brilliant plan you can conjure. Jimin chuckles, his gaze lingering over your heaving form with a hunger that ignites a spark of desire. He licks his lips, suggesting, “Then take it off. That way, it'll dry faster, and we can go for round two in a moment.”

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hier--soir · 9 months

Text

tender is the night [for a broken heart]

joel miller x f!reader

pairing: ex-boyfriend!joel miller x f!reader summary: a birthday dinner gets interrupted by a drunk ex, who still can't say the words you need to hear. warnings/tags: [18+ MINORS DNI] jackson era, ex-boyfriend!joel, crying on your birthday, angst, insecurity, joel can't express how he feels, nothing is resolved at the end, a drunk teary dilf. word count: 2.6k masterlist a/n: ouch. was in the mood for angst and hopelessness apparently? it hurt to write so it very well may hurt to read. enjoy!

The table was a disastrous mosaic of dirty crockery and full glasses of wine. Countless empty serving bowls were strewn to the far edges of the wood. Plates crusted with sauces and relishes were framed by purple rings where wine had stained the table. A Victoria sponge with the words ‘another year!’ written across it in a cinnamon dusting—because “we couldn’t figure out how to make icing”. Amidst it all, candles rested on simple saucers, wax dripping down their sides as small orange flames sent plumes of smoke towards the ceiling.

Those glowing flares sent shadows flickering across the table. The light reflected shards of yellow and white on the faces of your friends, highlighting drunken smiles and heavy lids over shiny eyes. Hushed conversation on one end of the table mirrored by raucous laughter and jeering on the other; the people closest to you, come to spend an evening together in celebration.

You were happy. A tingling sensation resided within you, vibrating in the space between the tips of your toes and the top of your skull. And yet, you couldn’t shake the ever-present reminder of something being missing. Or, someone, rather. A large, person-shaped hole existed in the room – in the space beside you. A cold patch of air that should’ve been warmed by an additional body. An empty chair at the the table, with no one to fill it.

The sharp clinking of a fork against glass caught your attention. Sydney was perched at the head of the table, messy haired and wide eyed. Unbeknownst to you, she’d taken the time to retrieve a fresh bottle of wine from the kitchen, and now stood over the group, crooked teeth on show as she beamed in your direction.

“Sooo,” she teased, dragging the word out and wiggling her eyebrows jauntily. “We’re here to celebrate a very special person.”

A chorus of cheers and whoops rung out along the table, and that warm feeling of happy, I am happy simmered in your chest again. A—dangerously full—glass of wine was held in your hand, and you sipped the crimson liquid leisurely, savouring the taste as it swum down your throat and into your full belly.

“Our dear, dear friend,” she said your name softly. “You mean so much to us all. No words could describe how grateful I am to have found you in this disaster of a world, and how pleased I am that our paths crossed after so many years of solitude.”

Jesse leant in from the seat beside yours, circling a lanky arm around your shoulders. You dipped your head in his direction to offer up a shy smile.

“You deserve nothing but the best,” Sydney continued, her eyes softening. “Here’s to another wonderful year with you, my friend. Happy birthday.”

You raised your glass into the air, laughing as your friends lifted their own to meet it. Glasses clashed in a boisterous toast, wine sloshing over rims, creating a new pattern of imperfect blots on the table.

“Alright, alright,” you chuckled, motioning for them all to settle down. “This means so much to me, really.”

You paused, soaking in the sight of their faces. Soft lipped smiles and bright eyes, gazing at you with nothing but love. “Thank you for coming. Thank you for the cake, for the wine. It means the worl—"

A sharp knock at the door cut you off.

All heads ticked in the direction of your entryway. Eyebrows drew together, friends glanced around, assessing who was missing from the table. A short, wary giggle loosed from your lips as you placed your wine glass down.

“I’ll, uhh—” you rose from the table. “I’ll go see who that might be.”

Before you’d taken a single step, you noted your pulse quickening.

He wouldn’t, you thought lamely, walking slowly towards the door. Surely, he wouldn’t.

Not today, of all days.

Not after months.

But you were lightheaded from the wine, the critical thinking part of your brain thoroughly fogged. And so you gripped the handle and tugged the door open without properly preparing yourself for if it was him, and then—

He would.

Today, of all days.

After months.

He would, and he did.

You balked at the sight of him. The cool evening air rushed in through the open doorway, and you could see dried yellow leaves smattered across the front porch – victims to the Fall weather. You noticed his boots first, unable to drag your gaze from the ground. Bulky, black boots that stood on the faded wood of your porch decking, crushing those flaxen leaves beneath them.

“Darlin’.” That deep, ache-in-your-stomach-inducing, nauseatingly familiar Texan drawl.

You recoiled at the sound of it, instinctively taking a step back into the house and away from the door, away from him.

He mirrored your movement, feet dragging his body a tedious step forward, until he rested atop the welcome mat. The thick, sour smell of liquor wafted through the air, and the tip of your nose scrunched at the overbearing scent. You finally allowed your eyes to drift up his body; past the wrinkled blue jeans, the dark green flannel, to rest on his face.

His beard was unkempt, curly hair unruly and a little longer than you’d seen him have it in all the years you’d known him. Dark irises bordered by bloodshot whites rested in the middle of his face, framed by heavy blue under-eye bags that hinted at a blatant lack of sleep.

As you took in his appearance, Joel spoke again. “Happy birthday.”

His words had a slow, lilting slur to them, and as he stood there a soft, dopey smile stretched across his face. The crow’s feet by his eyes made your stomach twist into knots, and had you fielding an onslaught of memories of how you used to lay tender kisses against the wrinkled skin, whispering how much you loved those marks.

You were aware of how chatter at the table had died down, silence descending upon the house as your guests comprehended who was at the door.

“Joel,” you cleared your throat in an attempt to mask your tone of stilted surprise. “I—”

“How are you?” he took another step forward, scraping his shoes on the mat as if he were about to step inside.

Instinctively, you shot a cautious glance at your friends. Jesse had risen from his seat and was watching the interaction warily. He’d had his fair share of troublesome run ins with Joel lately and was on guard in an instant.

You ignored his question. “What are you doing here?”

“I was…” he paused thoughtfully, tongue darting out to wet his cracked, pink lips. “Could I come inside for a minute, sweetheart?”

The sound of glass breaking snatched the response from your mouth, and Joel’s brow pitched down in concern. The pair of you looked in towards the table, where a red-faced Sydney was clambering to collect broken shards of a glass that had been knocked to the floor.

“Oh,” Joel’s voice came quieter this time, sounding somewhat dejected. “You have guests, I-I’m sorry to, uh, to intrude.”

“We were just having dinner,” you said quickly, heat soaring through your skin as you noticed how his face had fallen, drunken smile nowhere to be found.

It hurt how much you wanted to reassure him. How you wanted to reach out and place a hand on his shoulder, to tell him that you would never celebrate your birthday without him.

Except you couldn't say that. Didn’t reach out to touch him, or to reassure. Instead, you let your words hang in the air for him to interpret as he wished.

“Right,” he nodded quickly, eyes glazing over a little.

The air felt thick with tension, a heavy silence permeating between the two of you and the guests around the table. Everyone’s eyes were on you, trying to gage your reaction. Your chest felt tight, every breath painful as air clawed its way in and out of your lungs.

“Hey,” rough fingers grazed your cheek, and your breathing hitched. “Why're you cryin', sweetheart?"

You hadn’t noticed the tear falling until he swiped his thumb below your eye, brushing away the wetness. The feeling of his skin on yours after so long caused a thick set of tears to fill your eyes. You swallowed them down quickly, sucking your lips into your mouth as you tried to keep it together.

Through blurry eyes you could see the concern on Joel’s face. He still looked so handsome. Even when it was clear he hadn’t been taking care of himself, even when he was drunker than all hell – he was so beautiful that it hurt.

“Why today?” you cursed internally at how feeble you sounded.

His hand dropped away, lips forming your name in a soft exhale.

“Don’t,” your voice hardened. “Just—tell me why you’re here, why today.”

“Let’s not fight,” he said faintly. The breeze shifted towards you, carrying the heady scent of whiskey that coated his breath. “Not on your birthday.”

“We aren’t fighting.” Your fingers sought out the doorhandle again, using it’s sturdy weight to ground yourself.

He was practically swaying on his feet, broad torso tilting slowly from side to side. “Feels like we are,” he confessed, thick eyebrows drawn across his forehead. “Y’hardly look at me anymore when I pass you in town.”

The dull ache in your chest intensified as you noticed tears glistening on his waterline all of a sudden, poised to fall at any moment.

“Joel, I don’t…” you sighed softly, eyes glancing out to the empty street as you tried to steady your breathing. “There’s nothing to fight over anymore – it’s done. It’s been months… I have nothing else to say about it; about any of it.”

He was silent for a long moment, cracked lips pursed as he digested your words.

“I’ve missed that,” he finally murmured.

“What?”

He hiccupped softly. “You sayin’ my name. S’my favourite thing in the world.”

“Jesus,” you muttered, although your heart stuttered at the words. “Can I get someone for you? Ellie?”

“No, don’t—” another hiccup “please don’t tell her.”

“You’re drunk,” you admonished, quiet enough that your friends wouldn’t be able to hear.

His fingers gripped the lapels of his jacket, drawing it tighter around himself. He seemed shy beneath your gaze – almost unsure of himself, now that he was actually stood at your door.

“I miss you,” his low voice cracked and trembled. “Thought about you all day, couldn’t stop myself from comin’ over.”

You shivered, wrapping your arms around your torso to protect from the cool wind.

“And?” you rasped wetly. “You still can’t say it, though, can you?”

He stared at you, glassy eyed. His mouth opened, and the words, “I need you” tumbled out.

“God, you’re such an asshole,” you scowled, eyes widening in desperation. “Why the fuck did you come here?”

“Where else would I go?” he implored. “Just wanna be wherever you are.”

You fell silent. Your heart thrashed inside your ribcage, striking rhythmically against your sternum in sharp jabs. It felt as though the crack down the middle of your heart, the one that you’d been working tirelessly to mend, was torn back open, a fresh wound once more.

“You know how I feel about you, darlin’,” he tried, taking another step forward.

“No,” you hissed, feeling almost hysterical as you held a hand out to stop him. “No, I don’t. For years I tried to figure it out, Joel, years, and I’m still at a fucking loss.”

“You’re the one who wanted time apart,” he bit, top lip curling in frustration.

“I never wanted whatever,” his hands gestured wildly between the pair of you. “this is. Never wanted to be away from you.”

You stared listlessly at him. “Yes,” you nodded. “I wanted time apart, because you needed to figure out what you wanted.”

“I know what I want,” his eyes blazed. One of his hands pushed forward and hovered over yours for a moment, dark eyes gaging your reaction before he allowed the digits to rest over yours. He squeezed your hand once, softly, and then held it. “You know it’s not easy for me to… to say these things.”

“It’s not easy,” you choked out. “To share two years with someone and then—fuck—to hold my heart out on a platter, to tell you that I loved you, over and over again, and never once hear it in return." Your chest heaved with jilted breaths, eyes widening as you spoke. "And it was okay, at first; I understood. I know what you’ve been through, but… it scares me, Joel, not knowing. And I trust that actions can speak louder than words, and that you have shown you care for me but… but maybe I’m weak – because I need to hear it. I need to know.”

A tear finally spilled, cutting a fierce line down his cheek, and disappearing into his beard.

It felt like you were baring your insides to him for the millionth time. Spilling your guts onto the ground before him and foolishly hoping that he would help to tuck them back inside where they belonged. Hot, red, pulsating matter that ached for him to take it in his hands, to caress it carefully, and whisper that yes, after all this time, he loved it.

You’d almost forgotten that a room full of people could hear your every word, and yet you found yourself uncaring.

Let them hear it, you thought. Let them see your love, your earnest, your honesty, and let them ache with you as it was not returned.

“Baby,” Joel squeezed your hand again, voice low like a warning. “I do, okay? I do.”

Please don’t do this, his eyes were screaming.

“I don’t want to have to beg you to love me, Joel.”

“Let me come inside,” he pleaded softly, through steadily falling tears. “Let me stay with you. I’ll show you, okay? I just need some more time, sweetheart, please.”

You smiled sadly and raised your clasped hands to your mouth, pressed a delicate kiss to his palm. A glistening streak painted his skin where it had touched your tear-stained face.

And then you let his hand go. Watched it drop down to his side, palm still held up to you. As if that were its naturally resting state whenever you weren’t holding it.

“I don’t think that’s a good idea,” you said, voice thick.

His fingertips grazed your shirt as he reached out again, but you had already taken a step backwards, out of reach.

“Pleas—”

“I love you,” you murmured brokenly. He finally fell silent, wet eyes widening at the words; at the simplicity with which you’d spoken them. “Please get some sleep.”

Joel blinked, wiped tears away with a rough hand. Nodded twice, torso swaying precariously as he spun on his feet to leave. You watched his back retreat, a fresh set of tears spilling onto your cheeks.

He paused then, only once, at your letterbox. Fingertips trailed over the lettering that spelt your name, and he spared a single glance over his shoulder.

“I’ll be back,” he said, just loud enough for you to hear over the soft Fall wind.

And as he departed, boots leaving your porch to stamp heavily across the grass and onto the road, that feeling of loss returned.

So short lived was its departure, and his return. Yet as Joel ventured into the darkness, avoiding the shining light of streetlamps, his absence curled around your being once more, greedily slinking into the space where he had stood.

You met it fondly, embraced the cool feeling as it floated over your skin, stroked your hands and face and held you in its grasp. Something to sit with – something to remind you, as you waited.

And you knew you would. Wait for him, that is.

As long as it took, you would wait, against your own better judgement.

For you loved him. Even when he couldn’t say it back, you loved him.

#joel miller #joel miller x reader #joel miller fanfiction #my writing #tender is the night [for a broken heart]#joel miller angst #joel miller hurt #ouch #tender is the night

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mayfieldss · 10 months

Text

If only you knew, I can see you - Carmen Berzatto

Content Warnings; language, sexual innuendos, small fights, the not-so-subtle Taylor Swift lyrics. Mentions of blood / minor injuries, and Carmy shouting his lungs out.

Summary: [ requested by @diorrfairy ]- hi! i'd like to ask a one shot on Carmy where him and the reader are secretly in love with each other. she particularly gets turned on when he's screaming in the kitchen, giving out orders and being bossy. and even though she doesn't know, he's noticed the way she looks at him when he's like that.

AN; I was so excited to write this concept, so thank you for sending it in. Also, I need him carnally. (I am so sorry about the end, I went kind of feral, and I feel as though I need to apologise)

Carmy had never been in love before, and honestly, he didn't know how he was supposed to tell what love was when around someone like you. But he knew that he liked you more than words could describe, and he knew that it was impossible for you to feel anything near the same. But somehow, he'd caught wind of something that might indicate otherwise.

Mid-day, on Tuesday. It had yet to reach the middle of the week, and the restaurant was packed to the brim for a reason unbeknownst to Carmy. He couldn't quite believe it, the stacks of people piling out the door to get a sandwich of all things. But Carmy was determined to serve every one of them because business was good, and he couldn't afford to turn a single customer away.

This idea, however, this impossible task set before every chef to serve every person, had its downfalls.

"Where the fuck is Marcus?" Carmy is moving fast, faster than he thinks he's ever moved in a kitchen of this size, shifting from station to station. "Where are the fuckin' cakes?"

He's being loud and not particularly nice, but Carmy can't afford nice right now. Not until the customers outside get what they ordered.

"Chef!" Carmy shouts your way, "Where the fuck are the onions?" His brows are raised in expectancy, and he stands waiting for your reply.

"Tina is on onions, Chef." You wave to her as you shift past Sydney and Carmen finds himself rushing over to your station.

"Behind, behind, god dammit, fucking behind!" The continuous shouts of the word fall from him as he moves past Richie and Ebra, headed straight for you.

"You got the peppers?" He asks, leaning over your shoulder, his breath brushing against your ear as he does so. He watches your shoulder shift, glancing at the chopping board that so clearly holds what he needs. He nods to you, "Good." And then he takes them away, whisking them off to a pot across the kitchen, despite the one by your side.

That was the first time Carmy noticed it. The way you looked at him differently. You didn't seem scared of his shouting, though, he couldn't be sure, but he thought there was something else behind your eyes. Something similar to how he would secretly look at you when he knew you couldn't catch him. So, weeks later, when the same situation occurs, a different day with different yet similar stakes, Carmy takes note of your reactions.

"We're moving too fucking slow, c'mon Chefs, move it. Now!" He hates to yell at them, but really, he's got no other choice than to raise his voice in the kitchen because, in truth, everyone else is being just as loud.

"Fuck!" His shout is deafening as he moves through the kitchen "Three more beef all-day chefs!"

Everyone in the kitchen choruses back to him, and he's grateful for the fact that they are at least listening to the important parts, but still, the stress keeps gathering inside of him like water filling his lungs. "Richie! What the fuck are you doing?" the man is standing with the freezer door open, looking inside as if he's a child at the fridge. Richie turns when he hears Carmy call him though, shrugging his shoulders.

"Hate to break it to you cousin, but the freezer ain't freezing shit."

That's Carmy's last straw, and suddenly the panic is spilling out of his mouth in a chorus of curses and orders. "Richie, bring out all the meat. All of it, and somebody call fucking Fak!" He takes a breath, snatching up a crate of vegetables as he moves. "Please." He adds, though his tone is still just as sharp.

And that's when he sees it, sees you out of the corner of his eye. You're watching him as you stir a pot at your station, and it seems as though you're holding your breath. Holding your breath just like he holds his own when he sees you. And for a split second, in the middle of his anger, he thinks he might have a chance. But then you exhale and go back to your work as if you hadn't been eyeing him up at all.

But he noticed. He knows what he saw. He's sure of it, isn't he?

He's right of course. You're just as infatuated with him as he is with you, but he can't ever know it. He's your boss after all and a relationship with him? Well, that would end more than messy. And yet you can't help but watch him, the way his hands and arms flex as he works. The way the veins in his neck show themselves as he shouts, voice booming—and if you dare to say it—hot.

He can't notice, and you don't think that he does.

The day continues the way it started, stressful and intense and when Fak finally arrives to fix the freezer Carmy has to resist the urge to give Richie an earful as the man stands talking to him, wasting time. But Richie doesn't shut up, and Carmy doesn't think it's actually possible for him to do so, and with each word that leaves his lips, he prevents Fak from getting to work on the broken freezer.

"Richie!" He yells from his station, "Please, for the benefit of everyone here, shut the fuck up!" His voice is strong, deep and when Richie ignores him it only makes things worse. "Cousin, I swear to god—"

"What're you gonna do Carmy? What are you gonna do? Because by the looks of it, you're too caught up in your fancy sauces to fuck with me right now!" Richie belts the words back, and it's a warzone suddenly as the two battle it out with words. Carmy has moved on to serving, organising each ingredient into its respective sandwich with you at his side, sliding freshly cut ingredients his way.

"Believe it or not Cousin, you don't own this place. I do, and I will kick your ass out of it if you don't be fucking quiet!"

Carmy can feel his face flush with anger, but what's more, is that he can see the red in your own cheeks. The nervous shuffling as you slide over a bowl of beef, trying not to make eye contact. But Carmy dares you to, and he keeps his eyes on you for one second, then two, until you look up, and he can see it. The large gulp as your eyes meet his, the way you bite the inside of your cheek, almost subtle enough for him not to see. He looks away but wants to push things further, he wants to test his theory without being too obvious. So, he brushes past you, a hand on the small of your back as he does. "Behind." He mutters, and the action is so simple, so common that he knows it shouldn't mean anything unless of course, his theory is right.

He witnesses your breath catch at his touch, and your quiet yet long exhale when his hand leaves your body, and somehow, he just knows. He hopes he's not reading into it; he hopes it's true because he wants you just as badly if it is. He might be in love with you, though he's never said such a thing, and God he hopes that there's something there.

"You alright, Chef?" he turns back to you once he's grabbed what he needed, still in a rush as he plays this chess game. You nod and Carmy sees it again, the harsh swallow as your nerves pick up. He catches you then, gaze falling to his hands as they move and he didn't take you for the kind of person to acknowledge such things, but he's seeing it all now.

Before Carmy can say anything, Richie speeds past, ignoring almost every rule of the kitchen as he does. The man's arm knocks into you, pushing you forward and Carmy watches first-hand as the knife you were using to chop up ingredients slices against the palm of your hand. You hiss out in pain, and instantly Carmy is on Richie like a guard dog.

"Cousin, what the fuck?" Carmy pushes him back, snatching at a roll of paper towels to clean the blood in the split second it takes Richie to respond.

"Hey Carm, chill out, will you?" The man raises his hands in defence.

"You're supposed to say 'behind' you fucking moron! Congratulations you just caused another damn casualty." Carmy glances back to you, holding your hand over the sink as the water runs red over your palm. "You know what, Cousin? Go get the first aid kit, do something for once!"

Carmy can feel the heat coursing all throughout his body, the anger moving through his veins, and somehow Richie can see that talking back is a bad idea. He moves off with little more than a grumble to get the first aid kit, and Carmy moves back to you, paper towels in hand.

"You okay, Chef?" Carmy reaches for you despite the rush of customers, taking your injured hand in his own.

"We'll hold the fort, Jeff. You go help her." It's Tina, the woman magically appearing behind him as she glances at the deep wound. It's not anything they haven't seen in the kitchen before, but still, it's a difficult fix. Carmy does as he's told and leads you to his office to patch you up, though he would have done so anyway, whether Tina had given him the go-ahead or not.

"I'm fine Carmy, really." Your voice is so gentle in comparison to all the yelling he's had to do today, and he finds that the sound of it would be so easy to sink into. He sits you down on the singular chair in the office, kneeling in front of you with another paper towel as blood starts to form again.

He wraps up your hand with it, glancing at the door. "Where the hell is Richie? The first aid kit isn't that hard to find." He looks up at you then, and you're wincing at the pressure of his hand over yours. The blood is soaking through the paper, as Carmy apologises. "I know it hurts, I'm sorry, but we gotta keep the pressure on it, Okay?"

"I know Carmy, I've had accidents like this before." You smile at him, and he can't deny his stomach flips a little.

"Yeah, sorry. I guess I can trust you to keep the pressure on it. If you want." He doesn't really want to move his hand from yours just for the sake of the contact, and when you place your uninjured hand over his own, he thinks he might have to, but you just shake your head. "It's fine Carmy, you look like you know what you're doing. World's best Chef or whatever has to know how to bandage a girl up right?"

He chuckles at that, just as Richie turns up with the first aid kit in the door. "Hey, I'm really sorry about, you know, all this." Richie gestures to your hand and goes to move closer but Carmy stops him, snatching the first aid kit from his friend's hands.

"Just fuck off, Richie. Man the register."

Richie rolls his eyes, though he leaves to do what he's told. "You don't have to be so mean about it Carm." The man responds though he's already gone by the time Carmy turns to argue again. When he looks back at you, his hand still over yours, he shakes his head.

"I'm sorry about him. I know he gives you a hard time and he doesn't pay attention to anything—" Carmy stops because he sees it again. That look in your eyes. You're watching him, gaze flitting to his arms, his hands and Carmy nods to himself, trying to hide the smile. He's figured it out, and he's more than pleased about it.

"You do know I can see you right?" He can't help it, the tone of his voice gives him all away and the smile he's hiding, though not on his face, can be heard within his words.

You play dumb though, tilting your head slightly to the side. Carmen has to admit he likes that look on you. "What?" Though you hide it well, the singular word is filled with falsified confusion and some minor panic and despite how fake your bewilderment sounds, Carmy almost thinks he's misread the situation. But then he remembers. He recalls the way you looked at him when he was screaming his head off around the kitchen, the nervous and heated shuffling when he was close to you. The catching of your breath when he touched you like any friend would.

"I might be reading this wrong but," He lets his hand graze innocently up your arm, as if checking for any other scrapes. "The way you looked at me before when I was going off at Richie," He pauses, eyes coming up to meet yours. He's shuffled himself further between your legs, still crouched low as he wipes blood from your hand. "Is there something you wanna tell me, Chef?"

To that you go beet red, stuttering with wide eyes that refuse to meet his own. "Chef, I don't know what you're talking about." You reach down to grab the first aid kit's contents yourself, but Carmy stops you, grabbing a bandage of his own as he begins to fix up your wound.

"It's all good Chef, I'm not mad, and it's just an observation but from what I've seen you seem to like it when I am."

You look over at the wall beside you, unable to keep eye contact. "Carmy, I don't want this to make things weird between us, I'll get over it, I'm sure I will."

"I don't want you to get over it." He's taking risks and he knows that well enough, but as Carmy tightens the bandages around your hand he can see the deep breath you suck in. "I can see you eyefucking me in the kitchen Chef, but I'm surprised you haven't caught on to the fact I've been doing the same to you."

You look back at him then, and he knows the way his eyes rake over your face isn't subtle in the slightest. The prolonged glance at your lips, the way his gaze trails down your jaw and back up again. You exhale, heavily and Carmy takes another chance. He lets his hands move up your arms again, and your eyes follow them as they move along your body.

"I'm gonna ask you a question Chef, and I want you to answer honestly." his eyes are the sharpest of blues as they stare into yours, and all you can do is nod.

His hands on your shoulders, the warmth of them as they run up and down your arms, is so distracting. "If I went to kiss you right now, would you let me?"

It's so surprising that it makes you laugh, a small chuckle of disbelief. Carmy hopes that's a good thing, and when you respond it's all but confirmed to him in a fire of excitement. "Absolutely."

From there it's all over, the discreet glances and gentle touches entirely abandoned for that of freedom. The friendly gazes across a room are replaced by the passionate connection of Carmy's lips on yours, his hands pulling you flush against him so fast that you almost fall off the chair. He manages to stand whilst his lips are still connected to your skin and though it's awkward, the struggle is ignored. Carmy can't believe he actually gets to kiss you, that he can really act on all the crazy things inside his head, and he's not going to waste the opportunity.

He pulls you to your feet, your hands placed firmly on his shoulders, releasing all of his tension as he realises you want him just as much. "Carmy, we have to get back to work." You mumble through the frenzy of kisses Carmy is providing. He just groans against your lips, kicking the door to the office closed without so much as looking in its direction. "The fucking restaurant can wait."

"But—" You go to speak again but Carmy kisses you back into silence.

"Work later, us now." the words come staggered as he grasps at you, his lips trailing down your jaw just like he'd imagined himself doing minutes before. You're pressed against the door, and with one hand sliding behind your back, Carmy manages to lock it. He's got time, he thinks. Time for just one more kiss, or something else.

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lilbeanz · 1 year

Text

Wow... I really can't believe it's already 2023! What a year. What a crazy, crazy year it's been! 2022 was a fantastic year for me and I'll tell you why:

January- I was going through the motions, still just working on my ocs and my college coursework, pottering around aimlessly...

And then, February!

I began really *Pottering* about. That fateful Valentine's day really kicked things off... As it turned out, some people really liked my stuff. Especially my artistic take on a certain pointy nosed pureblood wizard.

In fact y'all liked it so much I carried on right through March and April too...

Started the Number Twelve series, carried on with the shenanigans, had fun answering asks...

Dipped out for a bit...

Came back full force in June just in time for Pride month!

And carried on all through July and August:

Then in September something very very special happened. I joined the drarry discord server- fell in love with it- made friends with some amazing people, even participated in Sudsfest!

I started writing my first fic in October.

By November I was ready to start publishing JoDT chapters weekly.

Wrapped the first book up by December, and participated in the owl post gift exchange.

I just can't really begin to describe how happy I am. It's been an incredible, fantastically magical year for me. I'm so grateful for this fandom, for all of you. Just... Thank you so much ❤️

Let's make 2023 just as magical✨️

#drarry #harry potter #lilbeanz #draco malfoy #lilbeanzdrawings #harry potter fanart #hp #drarry fanart #wow #happy new year #year of art #year in review #hehehe <3 #love you all

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underdark-dreams · 7 months

Note

Thank you so much for your Tiefling smut contributions! I am so lovesick for Rolan and wanted to request--Rolan x fem Tav at the grove party? I know it's super early in both of their arcs but I can't help but wonder. 💕

Rolan x Fem!Tav (Unnamed)

Good Night For Company

"Would you mind if I kissed you?" Sometimes you need to feel lonely before you notice the person sitting right beside you.

Tags: Fem Unnamed Tav, Kissing, Accidental Cuddling, Feelings Realization | SFW

Word Count: 5,443 [Read on AO3]

Sometimes it was lonely to be the hero, she thought to herself.

Their camp was fuller and merrier than she’d ever seen it. Every last Tiefling she’d met at the Grove had joined them for a night of celebration, bringing along every last bottle of wine and spirits they could get their hands on as way of thanks.

Unsurprisingly, all eyes in camp seemed to be searching for someone else to spend the night with. Who could blame them? Mortal peril and hard-won victories tended light a fire in people, herself included.

Yet somehow she still found herself short on options. Everyone at camp seemed more interested in clapping her shoulder in thanks than joining her for a night of abandoned pleasure. Even her close companions hadn’t taken much interest in what she had on offer.

Astarion was the only one who had made her an invitation. She practically felt grateful to him for it. He would tempt anyone, of course—just look at him. But underneath his beauty, there was a dark edge about the elf that made her hesitate in the end. How was it Gale had described him? ‘A tiger when it purrs.’

Honestly, she wouldn’t have said no to Gale, either. He was certainly attractive, and there was a sad weight to his shoulders that seemed to invite comforting. The kind she wouldn’t mind giving. Yet despite the lonely shine in his eyes, he’d made it abundantly clear to her in his loquacious way that his mind was elsewhere this evening. She left him alone to his private reflections.

She at least expected their own cheerful Tiefling to be smack in the middle of the evening’s revelry. Tonight, Karlach was nowhere to be found. Only when she later glimpsed Shadowheart’s tent standing dark and noticeably empty did she put the pieces together.

Well, good for them. At least two of their group might have a chance at a lay tonight.

No such luck for her, it seemed. She raised the bottle of Ithbank to her lips and tried not to feel too sorry for herself. The last few days had been long, exhausting, positively brutal…her muscles ached from overuse. Really, a good night’s sleep should be more than enough to satisfy her.

And yet—how nice it would feel to be touched and held with tenderness, even if it wasn’t real, even just for one night. Just enjoy a harmless tumble in someone’s bedroll before everything crashed around them again. The thought of the long road that would greet her in the morning made her groan, and she shook the thought away.

It hardly helped her souring mood to see Danis and Bex practically sitting in each others’ laps in the middle of camp, gently knocking their horns together with affection. She averted her eyes and took a rather resentful swig of wine as she trudged past.

“Go on then, give us a show!”

Teasing laughter came from just ahead. At the edge of camp, she happened upon the three Tiefling siblings from the Grove. Rolan, the oldest, stood flexing his hands as if preparing for an impressive feat. As she approached, she thought for just a moment that he glanced in her direction.

His brother Cal heckled him mercilessly from the rock where he and Lia were perched. “Lose your nerve, wiz?”

Rolan sighed, long-suffering. “Have you no respect for showmanship?” Not leaving time for any more smart comments, he flourished his hands upward with a low incantation.

The effect was like tiny stars, or fireflies, or some combination of the two. Sparkling lights spread and popped above their heads, leaving behind a violet mist that gently faded into the night.

She found herself smiling up at the sky. It wasn’t a powerful display, but it was lovely nonetheless. And certainly unique. She wondered how one went about inventing a Weave spell; she wouldn’t know where to begin.

Tucking the bottle against her chest, she offered a little round of applause. Cal looked over at her then and let out a groan of amusement. “Not you, now he’ll keep at it all night.”

"Shut it," Rolan shot at him, positively glowering. Lia was clutching her side in laughter at his expense.

Two against one; that was siblings for you. She was in a newly generous mood after his pretty magic, however, and decided to lend Rolan a hand.

"Surprised you're still here," she said, cocking her head toward Cal. "Last I heard, Lakrissa was looking for you."

Cal's neck practically snapped with how quickly he craned it around camp. Lia turned her mirth on him, aiming a punch at his shoulder.

"As if, you idiot," she chuckled. "She's only about ten times out of your league."

"You don't know that," Cal told her, completely thrown off teasing his brother as he rose to look around the party hopefully. "She told me I had a good parry one time—I could have a chance—"

As he wandered off, Lia threw up her hands and rose to follow him. "Guess I'll go save Lakrissa. Or maybe just watch what happens. Nice one," Lia added over her shoulder, grinning appreciatively at her.

She and Rolan were left standing alone to the side. There was some awkward shuffling of feet; somewhere past the campfire, Volo launched into his third stanza of Tymora's Melody. A song to make people lucky, she seemed to recall. A suggestive choice for the night.

"Drink?" She broke the silence, offering out the bottle of wine. Relief flooded Rolan’s face.

"Gods, please." He accepted and took a generous pull.

"You certainly have your hands full with those two, don’t you." She bit back a grin at the way his brow crinkled in response.

"They are…" Rolan cast around for the word. "Challenging. But I don't have to tell you that," he added, glancing sideways at her. "We were bickering the first moment you met us."

"That's just family, though," she laughed, taking the wine back from him. Their fingers brushed together slightly over the bottle.

“Nevertheless. My thanks.” He waved his hand in a general motion, but she could tell he meant her intervention before.

“Don’t mention it,” she told him.

Seeking a reprieve from the merry music and voices around them, her feet idly made their way toward the edge of the fire's light closer to the riverbank. From the corner of her eye she saw Rolan follow. They settled on a log of driftwood that faced the scenes at camp.

"So, you're finally making your way to Baldur's Gate," she said. It wasn't a question; he'd already told everyone who would listen about his apprenticeship with Lorroakan of Ramazith.

"Finally.” His eyes glowed with pure enthusiasm. "You have no idea how long I’ve waited for this. The slightest delay has felt like an eternity.”

“And Cal and Lia? They must be excited, too.”

“Of course” he said, though his lips raised in a little smirk. “They’ve never been to the Gate, so they don’t quite know what to expect. But they’re just as eager.”

She watched him for a moment as she turned the bottle over in her hands. "You're quite sure of yourself, aren't you."

Rolan looked at her with a challenging expression. “Tell me, in our position, what else is there we can be sure of?"

He almost made her regret herself. “I didn’t mean that. It’s just that you’re very—”

“I expect most wouldn’t guess that a hellspawn could earn a position under the greatest archmage on the Sword Coast,” Rolan said before she could finish.

His moods were volatile as a storm; turning this way and that without warning. She was never sure what to expect from him. Before she could protest his assumptions about her, he continued onward.

"We three never had much between us, you know." Rolan’s voice was abruptly low and bitter. "Somehow we've got less now than we started with. Not even our birthplace anymore. The one thing I’m sure of is my magical talent. I'm not going to deny it for the sake of being modest—" he tossed the words out with contempt. "Not when it's the one thing I always knew I had in spades. With the right instruction, I could be inimitable."

She studied his determined profile in the half-light of the campfire. Perhaps there were more layers to his self-important attitude than she'd thought. After all, without him taking on the challenging role that awaited him in the city, Rolan and his siblings found themselves in much the same position as the other refugees milling about camp tonight. A heavy weight despite his obvious enthusiasm. Who was she to judge him, or any of them?

Rolan finally caught her watching him and cleared his throat. "Forgive me, I think I've—had too much wine."

"Oh?" She gave the bottle a swirl; it was still more than half-full. "You're making pretty good sense to me."

"I don't usually speak so freely with strangers," he explained tersely, glancing away.

She pondered the comment over another sip. "Does that make us friends, then?" She asked, not sure if she was being serious or trying to tease him. He did seem like he'd be awfully fun to tease.

"That's a little premature," he said dryly, but he glanced at her with a serious look. "Though I suppose, given recent events, you've earned it."

"A roundabout way to say yes," she laughed. "But I'll take it."

Rolan only made a low, grumpy noise in his throat. But he didn't challenge her.

“I’m really glad you three stayed, you know,” she told him. “I know you were against it. It certainly wasn’t the easy choice.”

Rolan plucked a bit of dry grass from between his boots, twisted it between his fingers. “Don’t thank me,” he said. “Once Lia gets an idea in her head to save some poor thing or other, there’s no arguing with her. And she knows I'd never leave her behind.”

"You say that, but anyone with eyes can see the way those two look to you for guidance. They would've followed you down either path."

"Not like us staying even made a difference," Rolan deflected, tossing the ball of grass onto the dirt in front of them. "We only lost a few more traveling days waiting around while you and your friends took care of everything. For which, I suppose, we owe you thanks," he finished sarcastically.

"I suppose," she said lightly. But she was looking straight at him.

Rolan was clever enough to realize he was being chastised. He let out a sigh, but dipped his horns to her in resignation. "Thank you."

She only smiled at him and offered back the wine in response. He accepted without comment.

Watching him tip back the bottle, she mentally fit another piece to his puzzle. "You don't like feeling powerless, do you?"

Rolan looked sideways at her. "Does anyone? Do you?"

"No," she replied, feeling a little foolish for asking. When he passed it back, she drank deeply from the bottle, grounded by the burn that traveled down her throat.

"That must make your situation difficult." Rolan was watching her almost cautiously, as if the subject should be carefully tread.

"The tadpole, you mean?" She spoke it aloud, not wanting him to feel any suspense about the subject. How the thought could fill her with dread and a kind of dark humor at the same time was beyond her. Maybe the worm in her brain was finally driving her mad after all.

"First I had to talk Nettie out of giving me a lobotomy. Then I thought the renowned First Druid Halsin might be able to heal me, but no luck. I even thought that crazy goblin priestess could have something up her sleeve." She gave a mirthless laugh, starting to feel the weariness closing around her again. "Suppose I just need to keep searching, right? Halsin thinks we might find answers in the Shadow-Cursed Lands. Or maybe the cure is in Baldur's Gate. Who knows," she added, glancing over at him. "Maybe your Lorroakan could know the solution, if he's as powerful as you say."

"He is," Rolan answered automatically. His luminous eyes were sharp with enthusiasm as he watched her. "When you get to the city, come see me at Sorcerous Sundries. If a cure exists, it'll be recorded somewhere in the library of Ramazith’s Tower, I'm sure of it. I’ll even research it, if I have time."

Inwardly she hoped they'd all be cured far earlier than that. But she was touched by his sudden helpfulness, even if it was half to prove the powers of his new station.

“Thank you, Rolan,” she smiled. “I appreciate it.”

He dipped his horns wordlessly toward her again. It was a gesture she was beginning to recognize, and grow rather fond of. She offered him their wine bottle in thanks.

From there they both let the moment drift. Seated on their log near the riverbank, she turned to watch how the rest of the revelry was progressing. Alfira had joined Volo in some kind of bardic duel; a rapid-fire melody drifted out to where the two of them sat. Lia appeared to be bravely trying her luck with Lae'zel. Judging by Lae'zel's very non-subtle body language, she was actually getting somewhere.

And to her disbelief, she even saw Cal and Lakrissa sitting together at the fire, engaged in what looked like a very friendly, very close conversation. Was it seriously everyone's night but hers?

She glanced to Rolan's face at her side. He wasn't paying attention to her; his fingers rolled the neck of their shared drink idly back and forth.

It should've occurred to her sooner, honestly. Despite Rolan's initial bluster, she found it surprisingly easy to speak with him one-on-one like this. He had a depth she hadn't noticed before.

And he wasn't bad to look at, either. Golden eyes set against inky black, strong jawline, lips that often curved up in a little smirk that she wasn't sure he deserved but found charming despite herself. She decided to dispense with caution and just try her luck.

"Would you mind if I kissed you?"

“What?” Rolan's head jerked around as he stared at her. "Why?"

"I don't know," she admitted. Maybe this was a bad idea; the shock on his face made her question her own boldness. But then she thought of his pretty spellwork. "Because you're the only person who's made me smile tonight."

Rolan examined her expression as though trying to tell whether she was joking. "We barely know each other," he said slowly.

She gestured her head toward the crowded clearing. "I mean, I didn’t know any of these people a few weeks ago. And now look at us. We’re practically family at this point.” She turned back toward him. "Besides, maybe I'd like to get to know you better?"

Rolan cast around for a response to that. "I suppose you're not…unattractive," he conceded. Although the nervous movement of his fingers gave him away a little.

"Know how to make a girl feel special, don't you," she laughed. "Look, Rolan, say no if you don't want to. I'm not after anything serious. It's just a good night for some company, and honestly, I’ve enjoyed talking to you."

Rolan was considering it; she could practically see his mind ticking between his options. "You're quite tenacious, aren't you?" He told her, the hint of a smile teasing at the corners of his mouth.

"When I want something," she agreed.

Something in the words seemed to tip his decision. She watched Rolan's eyes flick down to her lips.

Taking that as a yes, she tilted forward to press them against his. His skin was warm and softer than she expected. Rolan didn't move against her, in fact was practically frozen still. She couldn't tell whether he was inexperienced or just out of practice. Regardless, she pulled away to look at him through her lashes, checking his expression.

This close his golden eyes almost seemed to blaze. She watched them move over her face, taking in her features up close. When he realized she wasn't going to initiate again, Rolan leaned in for another kiss.

Definitely not inexperienced, she decided, as his lips slid and moved softly over hers. She breathed in and smelled smoke and wine and something spiced; a pleasant warmth coiled in her stomach. He sighed into the kiss, apparently feeling something similar.

She felt a tentative hand rest on the side of her waist. Without breaking from him, she scooted sideways to get a little closer, inadvertently pressing her leg up against his. Rolan made no objection, only circled his arm further around her back.

It was the nicest feeling. Being held by a firm yet gentle touch, sharing kisses that flowed from sweet to eager to shy and back again. How long had it been? The longer Rolan's mouth moved over hers, the less she cared about remembering.

She hooked her arms over his shoulders to keep him close. As she tilted her chin for a better angle at his mouth, she took a chance and ran her tongue along his bottom lip. Rolan’s fingers dug slightly deeper into her side, but his lips parted to allow her in.

She felt a thrill run through her as their tongues melted together. They tasted each other softly for a moment; unconsciously, she combed her fingers up through the hair at his nape.

Rolan broke away gently at the feeling. She grew suddenly shy when their eyes met again, and she cast around for something to fill the silence.

"Why do you hide your ears behind your hair like that?” She wondered aloud. “They’re lovely." As she spoke, one of her index fingers went to tuck a lock of his hair back behind the long, pointed arrow of his ear, grazing against it with curiosity. Before she could blink, his hand caught hers to pull it away.

"Don't—" Rolan said abruptly, then let out a nervous laugh to break the tension. “Tiefling ears are…quite sensitive.”

"Oh," she said. His meaning sunk in the rest of the way. “Oh—I’m so sorry, I didn't realize—" The heat of embarrassment on her cheeks could have melted her.

"It’s all right,” he told her, laughing genuinely now. “Gods, your face is almost as red as mine.”

Rolan was even more handsome with a real, true smile on his face. She wasn’t sure she’d ever seen one there before. Before she’d found a response, his grip on her wrist was gently pulling her arm over his shoulder, and her body closer to him with it.

She decided another kiss would shut up his teasing nicely. She followed his lead and then some, wrapping both arms around his lovely shoulders, melting against his lips again. He said something against her, but the words dissolved into a hum that sent a pleasant shiver down her back.

Finally, Rolan succeeded in pulling away to glance back toward the center of camp. "Sorry," he said breathlessly, and it sounded like he truly was. "I just—don't want you to face uncomfortable questions in the morning."

No doubt his siblings' teasing was another factor, but she didn't call him out on it. While she appreciated his chivalry, all she could think about was getting his mouth under hers again.

"We could go to my tent?" She suggested.

For all the cockiness he'd spouted from the first moment she met him, she felt Rolan's hands almost seize up around her.

The feeling made her bite back a grin. "I'd just like to kiss you some more," she said, tracing her thumb against his jaw. "We don't have to do anything else. It would just be more private. And more comfortable."

Rolan licked his lips, unsure. “Won’t that be even more obvious?”

“I don’t think this crowd’s going to notice much at this point…” She turned with arms still around him to look over the scenes near the campfire, and Rolan's gaze followed. The generous flow of alcohol was taking a clear effect on most of the faces gathered here and there. Around the fire’s edge, Alfira was leading many of her fellows in a rousing ballad that she didn’t recognize. Most voices were noticeably off-key.

“Come on,” she invited Rolan, rising with one of his hands in hers. He made no protests as she led him around the edge of camp, trying to stay out of the more obvious sightlines, and towards her empty tent. When she held the flap open for him, he ducked in quickly without a word, and she followed.

Inside, the light from the roaring campfire filtered dimly through the fabric walls. She watched Rolan’s luminous eyes glance around, taking in her personal effects, finally landing on her open bedroll. He swallowed hard.

“Just sit,” she told him, guiding him by the arm down beside her. They settled side-by-side on the blankets. Somehow the mood between them was back to the initial uncertainty of before, as if they hadn’t already shared a score of kisses.

“Your tent smells like you,” he said out of nowhere.

"Really?" She chuckled, but the observation somehow made her very nervous. “Not sure if I want to ask what my smell is.”

“Balsam.” Rolan didn’t elaborate, only dipped his head swiftly to place lips under her jaw. Her laughter dissolved into a sigh of pleasure. Clawed hands snaked up around her side and down over her shoulder, tipping her torso into him. She let her head loll to the side to give him all the access he could want.

She’d forgotten all about his sharp incisors. As he kissed down the side of her neck, his warm breath sending a cascade of shivers over her spine, one of his fangs grazed her bare skin by accident. Her sharp intake of breath surprised even herself.

Rolan pulled away to look at her, uncertain if he’d done something right or wrong. She used the moment to capture him in a kiss again, sucking and nibbling on one side of his bottom lip, letting him know how right he was getting this.

She sank sideways into her bedroll, pulling him down with her with hands clasped behind his neck, trying to be mindful of his angling horns.

Rolan's arm rested comfortably over her side, nails whispering against her back as he held her. He was so gentle like this; so unlike the way he presented himself to others. The thought that she was seeing a side of Rolan most others didn’t get to see—she liked that thought very much. She tangled a hand in his hair as their kisses turned soft, and lovely, and almost lazy.

The security of his arms around her in her soft bedroll, the alcohol making its way rapidly to her brain, the exertions of the day straining along her limbs…she felt herself drifting toward a state of relaxation almost like sleep. She roused herself, wanting to kiss him back while she had him here. She wasn't sure when they'd get a chance like this next.

But Rolan gently disentangled their mouths for a moment. "Here," he said, scooting his arm under her neck like a pillow. She leaned against him with a comfortable sigh.

"Your arm's gonna fall asleep," she warned him, making no moves to shift the weight of her heavy head.

Rolan chuckled low in his chest. "I think you'll be doing that first."

She wanted to make a snappy response, but all that came out was a petulant groan against his lips.

This wasn't going at all the way she intended. She wasn't supposed to doze off, she was supposed to kiss the Tiefling wizard until he saw stars, like the ones he'd conjured for her.

Because he had conjured them for her—she told herself that with certainty, whether or not it was true. The sweet thought carried her toward sweet dreams, and the memory of them behind her eyelids was the last thing she saw before she drifted.

—

The call of an owl nearby pierced through her sleep. As her mind surfaced in the darkness, the first thing she was aware of was the pleasant weight of an arm across her. She sighed and settled comfortably back into the warm figure pressed up against her hips and shoulders. The mystery arm pulled her in tighter in response.

Things began slowly filtering back to her; the party the night before, and the wine, and Rolan, and—

Her eyes opened wide then. The interior of her tent was so dark that she could only make out blurry shapes. Outside, she heard nothing but crickets and a few more distant owls hooting; it must be well past midnight. The fire hadn't been tended for hours, judging by the absence of light reaching through the fabric walls. Presumably the rest of camp had all turned in long ago.

With the nervousness of a person who'd fallen asleep from drink, she shifted around a bit to confirm that yes, she was very much still fully clothed. Her toes flexed against hard leather; even her dusty boots were still on her feet. That answered that question, at least. She glanced down at the clothed arm over her stomach.

"Rolan?" She whispered through the dark.

She felt and heard his lips mumble something against her hair, and then Rolan's face nestled deep into the crook of her neck with a happy sigh. The intimate gesture made her bite her lip. She could feel his steady breaths tickle against her collarbone.

However much she might want to let him stay right there, forever, she knew she should wake him.

"Rolan," she whispered a little louder. Twisting a bit to free the arm under her side, she reached to gently pat the spot between his horns. She felt his hair rustle freely under her hand; its orderly tie must have come undone in the night.

Rolan inhaled sharply awake then. He lifted his head from her as if trying to cast around for where he was.

"We both fell asleep," she whispered, stating the obvious. She felt him tense up behind her as he took in his body's positioning: chest pressed against her back, one arm cradling her neck, the other wrapped tight around her waist to keep her pulled in close to him. She wasn’t sure, but she thought she even felt his tail twined around one of her legs.

Every part of him retreated from her at once as he lurched into a half-seated position. "I'm sorry," he apologized in a groggy whisper.

"It's fine," she assured him, wondering why he would assume she didn't enjoy the closeness as much as he clearly had in his sleep. "I think everyone else is asleep by now."

There was a long, quiet pause. Then Rolan began, “Did we…?”

“No,” she interjected with certainty.

"Thank Gods. I mean—" He cast around in the dark for one of her hands, realizing how that came out. "We both drank a lot, that's not how I want—it shouldn't be like that."

"I know." The sweet goodness of him made her heart swell.

Suddenly, Rolan grabbed his head with both hands. "Fuck," he hissed. "Lia and Cal."

"What about?"

"They'll know I didn't come back to our camp last night," he groaned low.

"Oh—okay," she said, trying to think; her brain was still fuzzy from the night's wine. "Well, maybe they'll just assume you got back late?"

“You don't understand, they know that I—” He cut himself off, and finished, “They already tease me about you.”

“Oh." She did her best to ignore the way that made her insides do a happy flip. But she couldn’t resist teasing a little herself. “Then maybe they’ll just assume you finally got lucky?”

His head fell against her shoulder with a groan, horns lightly knocking against her. “Please,” he begged.

“Sorry, Rolan—” She was instantly contrite, holding his head close to place kisses across his hair and forehead. "Listen, we've got an hour or two before dawn. Maybe you can sneak back and they won't know how late you were out. Where's your camp?"

"The bluffs just outside the Emerald Grove, with Lakrissa and the bard."

She knew the spot; they could easily reach there in a quarter hour on foot. But first, she scooted away and undid the flap of her tent to peer out for any signs of activity.

Everything outside was very still. She watched carefully for another moment just in case; near Wyll's tent, Scratch snuffled and buried his snout further against the owlbear cub's feathers. Beyond that, there were no signs of stirring in the camp.

She ducked back inside the tent for a moment. "C'mon—"

With quiet, shuffling feet, they crept out into the quiet moonlit night. Scratch's head raised silently in their direction. She stared into his dark eyes with a silent plea, begging him to be a good boy and stay quiet. He lowered his head back down without a sound. She swore to herself that she would find him the biggest, juiciest bone in the morning.

She grabbed Rolan's hand behind her and tugged him quietly through camp. They passed tent after tent filled with steady breathing, boots padding against the dirt in near-silence.

Once they were outside the ruined wall at the edge of the campsite, she let out her pent-up breath in relief.

Rolan kept his fingers twined firmly with hers as they walked through the moonlight. They talked about anything to fill the air, about things that didn't matter, both trying to stave off the impending end of their short night together.

Far sooner than felt fair, they rounded into a familiar clearing, and she knew his destination was just up the hill to their left.

"Well," she began, as they slowed to a stop.

Before she knew it, she was pulled against Rolan’s chest in a tight embrace. She folded herself into him as completely as she could manage, breathing deep and committing his scent to memory.

When they broke apart, he kept her close so he could see her face in the moonlight. "Which route will you take to reach the Shadow lands?"

"Through the Underdark if we can," she answered. "I wasn't sure about it, but we all took a vote after the fight yesterday. What about you three?"

"I don't know," Rolan said honestly. "It depends how Zevlor decides. We're all going to travel together as far as we can."

"Oh," she said. She ought to say something reassuring about how that was a wise tactical choice, but she was overcome with the realization that she might not see Rolan again for many weeks. Possibly not until they both reached Baldur's Gate.

In that moment, she fervently regretted not fucking this wonderful man into tomorrow when she'd had the chance—wine be damned. From the way Rolan was looking at her, she wondered if he was thinking the same.

Instead, she leaned in to kiss him one last time with everything she had. She wanted to remember the way his shoulders fit perfectly under her arms. Rolan’s grip closed around her middle, and in the next instant she felt her feet dangle weightless as he lifted her off the ground into him.

The kiss had to end eventually. As he lowered her onto her feet, she touched back down to dirt and reality.

“Your hair,” she gasped suddenly. It hung loose to his shoulders, his red ear tips poking from between the locks. It was a very handsome look for him.

Rolan raised a hand up in realization himself. “I’ll figure something—” he began, but she was already tugging at the leather lace that fastened her shirt. She raised it to her mouth to bite off a short length.

Before he could stop her, she stood on tiptoe to gather Rolan’s hair behind his head the way he usually kept it. Her arms circled him as she tied it halfway back with the makeshift string. She could feel his eyes on her face, but she steadily avoided meeting his gaze. She foolishly felt like she might cry if she did.

“There,” she sniffed as she pulled away.

Rolan only gave her a gentle smile. “Thank you,” he said, dipping his horns to her one more time.

Telling him goodbye hurt just to think about. “Good night,” she whispered to him instead.

“It has been,” Rolan agreed. “The very, very best.”

#this one turned out much longer than i expected #how very much i love him #rolan x tav #bg3 rolan #rolan bg3 #underdark-dreams #bg3 fanfiction #bg3 spoilers #baldur's gate 3 spoilers #tav pov for a little change

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escha-evenstar · 7 months

Text

Sweet Spaghetti

Pairing: Azul Ashengrotto x GN!Reader

Summary: You share a spaghetti with Azul on your date.

Word Count: 900+

Notes:

Tried to keep this as gender neutral as possible (I hope I did it right).

Reader is described to be gorgeous by Azul.

EDIT: Reader also described as pretty and cute by Azul.

A/N:

Inspired from this scene from the Lady and the Tramp! Not the same exactly in this writing but quite similar, I think. Also, as I mentioned in my previous writing, it is my birth month. And I had spaghetti for my birthday soooo hehe~ Of course I'd want to share a spaghetti meal with Azul! 🩷

Also, I'm not sure about the title, but I can't think of anything else haha

Enjoy your Sweet Spaghetti! *wink*

You were sitting inside a fancy restaurant, dressed in fine clothing, as you conversed with the man opposite of you. He was also wearing a formal attire. The suit complemented his silvery hair and matched with his blue eyes.

You didn't realize you were starting to stare. Your hand, which was holding a fork, froze in place as your eyes continued to gaze at him.

He was looking incredibly handsome tonight. Absolutely perfect.

You were suddenly broken out of your daze as Azul called out to you. "Sweetheart?"

"Y-yes?" You stuttered, eyes blinking back to reality.

Azul chuckled at your response. "I was asking for your thoughts."

"Thoughts?" You feel some heat rise to your cheeks as you recalled your most recent ones, where you were just thinking how attractive he was in his new suit.

"What thoughts?" You asked nervously.

"About the food, specifically this pasta dish. You said you were looking forward to this the most," he said.

"Oh! Yes, yes I was," you laughed as you mentally sighed with relief. "I really like how it tastes. The grated cheese blends really well with the sweet tomato sauce and you don't get tired of the pasta because the meat and the mushroom mixed with the sauce brings out a harmonious flavor. It's really, really delicious!"

Your words elicited a smile from Azul. "I'm glad. Maybe I should take note of this and make some recipe changes at Mostro Lounge."

You giggled at his response as you brought your fork to your mouth and continued to eat the spaghetti. There were a few seconds of silence before Azul spoke again.

"Ah! There is something I'd like to ask you, sweetheart." He placed his elbows on top of the table as his chin settled on top of his clasped hands.

"What is it?" You asked after swallowing down your food. As you looked at him, you noticed how his eyes have a mischievous glint in them.

Please don't tell me he noticed.

"I am rather curious as to why you were staring so hard at me earlier." A smirk evident on his face.

He knows.

A blush adorned your cheeks as you averted your eyes away from him.

"Uhm, well.."

"Well?" He hummed teasingly, his signature smirk never leaving his face.

"I know I already said it earlier but," you turned to stare directly into his blue eyes while still blushing. "You look really handsome, Azul."

The way you said it so sincerely with that lovestruck look in your eyes and that shy, but lovely smile of yours had Azul blushing. He couldn't help but adjust his glasses, an attempt to hide the crimson hue dusting his cheeks.

"Ah, that's.." You definitely caught him off guard with your straightforward answer. He coughed into his hand as he composed himself. "I am truly flattered. Thank you for the compliment, my dear." Azul flashed you a smile, a genuine one.

"And I must say again," he continued as he took hold of your hand. "You look gorgeous, sweetheart. Absolutely gorgeous as always." His eyes never left yours as he gently brought your hand to his lips.

Oh, how your heart melted.

"Azul~" You cupped your cheek with your free hand as you looked away from him once more, feeling bashful, as your blush intensified.

Azul felt a swell of pride within him to be able to draw out such a cute reaction from you. All because of him. He chuckled at your pretty and cute self as he squeezed your hand. This caused you to look back at him, and you could see the warm, loving gaze in his eyes as he smiled at you softly. You returned his smile with your own as you squeezed his hand back.

Afterwards, the two of you resumed eating while engaging in pleasant conversations. It was a light hearted moment.

As you brought another fork of spaghetti into your mouth, you noticed how one strand was longer than the rest. You leaned forward against the table, following that one strand of pasta, only to come close to your lover's face. The other end was in his mouth.

The two of you were frozen, eyes staring at each other.

It was like you were in Pocky game, except instead of a Pocky stick, you had a single strand of pasta connecting the two of you.

You still didn't move, but Azul did.

His eyes fluttered down to your lips before closing the distance, biting on the strand, and giving you a soft, tender kiss.

Your eyes flew shut as you savored the sweet moment. It made your heart race and your mind blank except for the feeling of his lips on your own.

The kiss lasted a few seconds before he pulled away from you.

"You were right," said Azul.

"Huh?" Your eyes blinked in confusion.

"I didn't get to say it earlier but the spaghetti is indeed quite.. delicious." He caressed your cheek gently before holding your chin between his fingers, his thumb grazing your lower lip. "Especially from your lips."

You were positive your face was as red as the sweet spaghetti sauce.

"Maybe I should have some more." His voice was low and suggestive, a teasing smile on his face.

You were definitely a blushing mess right now as your heart thumped loudly inside your chest.

His smooth words and suave actions tugged greatly at your heartstrings.

All because of a single strand of sweet spaghetti.

..but that doesn't mean you didn't like it.

#azul ashengrotto x reader #azul ashengrotto #twisted wonderland x reader #twisted wonderland #escha writes🩷

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aixicl · 4 months

Text

See you again,

Bada Lee x fem reader

Summary: After you both agree to part ways, your paths cross unexpectedly.

Cw: exes :(, angst (?).

Wc: 6k.

Pls read : I’ve decided to put all parts (1 2 & 3) into one single fic because it’s not that long. For the babes that already read the first 2 parts, before the beginning of every chapter I added numbers so I’d be easier for you to scroll to your desired chapter🤍

˚ ༘ ೀ⋆｡

(1)

''So, you're going to be back soon. Right?''

Soobin asked, her tone uneasy. Even tho you told her numerous times that you won't just disappear forever and once the leaves begin to fall and change colors you'll rock the streets of Seoul again. Until then, you'll fly as far as your wings take you. It's not like you did anything wrong. You decided to leave after all.

''Wild, young & free'' as some would describe, as she would describe. Until you weren't free anymore, your thoughts kept you imprisoned in your mind.

''Yeah girlie, you know how hard I worked to get in.''

For a long time, you've wondered what you're into—having an identity crisis every time you see her dancing with such passion. You admire her wholeheartedly, but you can't help feeling jealous since there wasn't anything there for you. Your mom took you to piano classes, swimming, and even judo. She tried her best to expand your horizons and you're grateful for that but it never really worked out. Until in your early teens, you discovered your burning passion for writing, having the power to control every reply, scene, or character you desire. It's like the alphabet was made for you just to write cheeky stories that she would giggle at. Words being placed thoughtfully in your love letters to her.

''I can't wait for you to get back home. I will get reallyyy mad if we don't go out drinking before uni." The younger girl giggled over the phone. But the word ''home'' stuck to you like a bandage. You're the type of person that considers ''home'' wherever the heart is but where is your home when your heart is all over the place?

You're just lying to yourself. You know exactly where home is. Home was the queen-sized bed you once shared, with the messy sheets you were too lazy to arrange since you knew in less than 24 hours it would be the same. Home was the kitchen where you would fail yet another recipe trying to surprise her with a yummy meal after her dance class. Home was anywhere she was really. Too bad she’s so far away now. That doesn’t mean you’re homeless tho. Many tried to offer you a room in their hearts, but it just wasn’t the same. The best you could do was try. Going on dates, even being a fan of dating apps until you gave up. Her presence scarred you so deeply that you subconsciously compared every romantic interest to her, her jokes, her compliments, her touch, her way of being.

“Did she get in?” the girl who once was your biggest relationship enthusiast asked, knowing how the story unfolded.

“How am I supposed to know? Is there any reason I would be interested? I haven’t spoken to her in months.”

“Forget it, why are we even talking about her? Call me when you arrive. I’ll talk to Seoyoung and Taeyoung and maybe we can go out and have cheap drinks like we did back in the day!”

You had a happy childhood, loving parents and lots of friends and you even had a best friend since primary school! Funny how a best friend turns into someone you love and then into someone you don't know at all-isn't life funny?

During the past two months, you traveled around Europe. Finding beautiful places that make you enjoy the moment, finding beautiful people, beautiful moments. Peace. Traveling was one of the things you truly enjoyed. She once promised you’d go to Lyon and Basilicata together. You ended up going by yourself. Maybe it was better this way.

Even though you were surrounded by people there were still moments when you felt alone and rather than being sad, you tried to enjoy being by yourself and embrace the quiet. Your life was so noisy until it all just stopped. You just accepted it.

The familiar streets make the corners of your mouth turn upright. The convenience store right around the corner from your childhood apartment, the sun shining brightly on your street, and the kids that just left school flooding the now-crowded street gave you a familiar feeling. Comfort.

“You are so beautiful.” your mother said while embracing you tightly, clearly noticing the subtle changes in your looks. Your skin is now sun-kissed thanks to Sardinia beach, your hair is slightly shorter and darker since you couldn’t skip the hair salons in Paris, and your cheeks are more plump since you’re not the one to refuse a delicious dish.

“You just came back and you are leaving again in a few days. If you don’t come to visit me on Sundays I won’t send you any food ever again!” your mom said sarcastically. Truth is, you would like to spend more time with her but now you’re too caught up with the new school year starting.

You’re officially a student in creative writing & linguistics and even got accepted as #13. Your mother couldn’t help but brag to her friends about your success in joining such a prestigious university. She was shocked. She wasn’t aware you planned to join this university a long time ago, alongside her.

“How’s Bada? Are you guys still mad? Is an 11 year old friendship worth throwing away?”

Bada was well acquainted with your mother. Sometimes you thought your mom loves her more than she loves you. Bada infiltrated in your life so well that it came as a surprise to everybody that the two best friends who held hands just stopped talking. No reason behind it.

“You still haven’t told me what happened.”

“Mom please I just arrived home don’t make me wanna leave again” You came off as a bit harsh but Bada was a dead subject to you. At day you would pretend you never came across Bada Lee, at night you would remember the way her hands softly caressed your waist and how your lips perfectly fit hers. You cut her off exactly how your hair stylist cut your split ends in Paris. But hair always eventually grows back.

Your childhood bedroom became the center of your attention for the next seven days as you discovered many random things while packing for uni. Old textbooks from high school, many hair accessories, polaroids with her, some dried up hand cream. Small things that were core memories for you. Your room is being filled up with 2 types of carton boxes: to take & to throw.

Most of the items you decided to throw were just straight up trash, one of her baggy t-shirts that still had her scent on it being included. Some stuff you decided to keep was necessities, toiletries, some pictures you took together just in case you made up again, etc. She was already half out of your heart, the other half made sure your heart was beating rapidly only for her. Did she also throw out your stuff? Did she keep it??

Across the street, things were pretty much the same.

“Make sure you eat well. Did you pack everything?”

Mrs. Lee made sure to check up on her daughter. She was indeed a very caring mother.

The girl let out a loud sigh saying, “Yeah, I’ll check again before leaving. There's still plenty of time left."

“You always do that honey, wait until the last minute. Go check it now! We won’t have time to add everything to the boxes in the morning!” said the older woman worriedly.

She went back to her room. The framed picture on her desk watched her every move, constantly reminding her of what was. Something in her not being able to throw it away, it was already there for 2 years. But sometimes she did turn the photo upside down, usually when she had other women over.

It was her 17th birthday. Your smiles were brighter than the flashlight itself, your cheeks flushed after so many shots your mother would destroy you for drinking. It was the night your relationship exploded.

“Is it wrong that I really want to kiss you?” You asked quietly, embarrassed by how close she was, her body firmly pressing against yours.

“Why would it be?” she says flatly.

As you take a deep breath, you think to yourself: ''Fuck it.'' It doesn't take long for your hands to reach her face. You lean in and kiss her, feeling her heart racing against yours. She melts into your arms, immersing herself in your arms as you explore each other's lips. You pull away and look into her eyes, feeling a connection deeper than anything you've ever felt before. You both smile, savoring the moment and knowing that this is the beginning of something new. The color of your lipstick now staining her lips and her mind. She runs her fingers over your lips feeling the warmth and softness of your skin, as she says softly:

''This is how it's supposed to be."

You lean in and kiss her again, this time with more passion and intensity until you have to pull away to catch your breath. That was the first of many makeouts in Bada's bedroom.

In the first place, you were just supposed to change your shirt since somehow a glass of champagne ended up on your clothes, and Bada one way or another managed to trap you in front of the closet. Shit happens.

That night the now dried shirt stuck to your skin, the idea of anything else instead of the girl in front of you being long forgotten.

To be sincere, you always held the power to pull anything you wanted without really trying. And you pulled Bada Lee into a complete black hole that night. Unaware that your souls are tied so tightly that at one point they'll burst. And unfortunately, that happened faster than any of you anticipated.

(2)

''You're Y/N, right?" the thrilled girl asked. She had a unique appearance. The mole on her nose easily distinguished her from a crowd you thought. Flashy nails, long hair, bright clothes, and a bubbly personality were the main characteristics of your new roommate.

''Yeah! It seems like we're stuck together for a while. And you are?''

''I'm Hyerim, I'm in the dance department! I love your outfit! Where did you get that cardigan? This color looks flattering on you!" she says rapidly with a wide smile.

You hit the jackpot for the first time in a long time. On your way to the dorm, your thoughts are filled with the idea of having a demon as a roommate. You had already created a scenario of what to do just in case the person you need to spend the whole school year with together is insufferable. Thankfully, that wasn't the case. For the next 2 hours, you and Hyerim had a blast, talking about anything & everything while unpacking. You both laughed and joked around, and you felt a sense of relief when you realized you wouldn't have to deal with a roommate who wasn't pleasant. You two got along great and you were excited to spend the next year together. You just clicked. As the first week of school passed you realized Hyerim was the hyperactive little sister you never had.

''There's this party next door, one of my friends invited me.'' Your new friend proposed as her eyes sparkled with excitement. ''Do you want to go with me? My friend will bring her girlfriend and I don't want to be the third wheel." The girl pouts.

''Sure, I feel like drinking anyway.'' You said chuckling. Back in the day, you attended every party you possibly could, earning admirable alcohol tolerance. You're making people take notice of you tonight since you have the whole pack to survive a frat party.

You and Hyerim took your time carefully arranging every rhinestone around your eyes. There was a heated debate about what lipstick color would look best with her charismatic outfit.

As you stepped into the party, vibrant energy engulfed the house. The music filled every corner, blending with the laughter and already sweaty bodies of many young adults. The dorm was a mess, filled with more alcoholic drinks than you can count. The smell of vanilla body spray and cheap cigarettes reeked in the living room. You genuinely wondered how so many people could fit into such a small apartment. As you scanned the room, you noticed a familiar face. You smiled and waved, and Soobin quickly made her way to you, giving you a warm embrace.

''So it seems like our drinking plan is finally happening." she laughed while scanning you up and down. ''Who are you trying to attract tonight Miss Martini? If I was into women you would've been my first choice.'' Soobin said while smirking.

Earlier while Hyerim went to touch up her makeup, you wandered to the kitchen where you found some unknown version of martini that was already half empty. You didn't care that the now-empty drink would be the cause of your headache tomorrow. All you wanted was to have fun. The alcohol helped you to keep your thoughts foggy. You grabbed one drink after another and gulped it down in one go. You felt a rush of warmth spreading through your body and you felt yourself becoming more confident and daring. You felt like you could take on the world. You danced and sang along with Soobin. You were living in the moment, without a care in the world. You were having the time of your life.

''Y/N I'VE SEARCHED FOR YOU EVERYWHERE!'' Hyerim screamed trying to make her voice louder than the music. The girl next to her looked dumbfounded. ''This is my friend Dohee. I've told you about her before! Her oreo girlfriend will arrive later so until then it's the four of us.'' She said while showing Soobin a big smile.

Meanwhile, Hyerim and Soobin were discussing a movie you've never heard of and your eyes couldn't stop traveling to Dohee's sour expression. It was such a shame, a beautiful girl frowning. Her red-coated luscious lips are paralyzed, the leather jacket accentuating her small figure so well. Whoever is making the alluring-looking women wait is a real loser, you think. But you're here, with her, right now, in the moment. Who can blame you for wanting to steal a smile from the girl's face?

''I guess your girlfriend is not coming hm?'' You asked quietly, trying not to make the girl explode. She looks like she could burst into crying any moment now. While asking her, you carefully put your arm around her shoulders.

''Yeah. She stood me up again." Dohee sighed then went on and told you how the girl whose appearance won't be seen tonight isn't actually her girlfriend but rather a friend with benefits she's too scared to admit she has feelings for. She told you the unknown woman told her she wasn't interested in any emotional relationship and she just had to accept it. You wondered if the cause of her being so open about this subject was the cup full of plain vodka or if she just was so desperate for someone to hear her out, to look into her soulful eyes and say ''I care''. Regardless of that, you were ready to be there for her even if it was for a short time.

''She's such a fool. I hope you're aware of that. Someone like you doesn't deserve to be treated like that, tossed around like a simple washcloth. Forget about her tonight. Things will get better like they always have.'' You told her while giving a genuine smile, slowly putting your hand on top of hers.

''You really mean that?'' She says smirking while looking at your hands that are now intertwined.

One conversation led to another, and you and Dohee ended up outside sharing a cigarette she pulled from her bra. Even tho you met only 3 hours ago the silence between you two wasn't awkward, but rather comforting. The moon shone down, illuminating your faces as you stood together. Dohee couldn't help but ask you:

"You look familiar. Are you sure our paths haven't crossed before?" Her expression grows nervous. She knew exactly where she saw you before but was too drunk and confused to link things.

''If I had seen you before I would've remembered, but besides that, I doubt I would've let you go." You respond confidently with a grin.

''I've told you so much about me and I don't really know anything about you.." She told you wistfully.

You went on and told her small details about you, such as your 2 month trip and your passion for writing. Nothing too significant but enough to be considered an acquaintance instead of a stranger. She took a moment and studied your face, admiring the eyes she was jealous of every time her romantic interest forgot to hide the picture on her desk. No wonder Bada kept your picture somewhere visible. You were too beautiful to not be looked at. Maybe that's why Bada hid the picture every time she came over, to not fall in love with you instead of her. At first, she envied you for looking so happy next to her. She envied the fact that Bada's smile looked genuine next to yours. Two stars standing next to each other so closely couldn't be any good she thought, unaware of the fact that you and Bada eventually collided, merging into an even brighter star than you currently are. Unfortunately, that star didn't survive long as it was pulled into a black hole, but it died gloriously in a tidal disruption event.

She smiled and gave you a warm look. She took your hand in hers and brought you closer, her touch sending a spark of electricity through your body. It's been a while since you kissed someone but you sure wouldn't mind her touch. When the gap between you closed, your cherry lips met her strawberry ones. Weird combination of flavors but it works. One bitter and the other one sweet.

Your hands shamelessly roam her body, not knowing in the distance that someone is enjoying this as much as you. Instead of focusing on the one she spent the last night with, her eyes are only focusing on your figure, observing the way you fiercely grab the other girl's hips pulling her even closer to you. It's been a while since she last saw you, especially like this but you still managed to make her freeze on the spot. For a moment Bada recalled a time when you simply kissed her. It wasn't something meaningful at all, just how your plump lips sat on hers. At the same time, it was amusing for her that you just kissed the girl she casually used to forget about the emotions she drowned in because of you. Following her heart always leads her to you.

Dohee pulled away when her phone suddenly rang, her face suddenly becoming bitter. You went inside to give her privacy. In the living room, you find Soobin and Hyerim ''dancing'' if it even can be called that, barely being capable of standing on their own feet. They quickly pull you into their little dancing circle forcing you to dance with them. There was no choice other than to give in and take pictures to have a good laugh later on. The laughter didn't last long as Dohee came in with the tall, 2 colored hair woman holding hands.

''What the fuck..'' Soobin whispered to you while catching a glimpse of Bada.

You were drunk but not drunk enough to not notice Bada and her changed appearance. The once blue hair you encouraged her to dye was gone, now weirdly but cutely resembling an oreo and one thing about oreos is that you couldn't resist them, being ideal for your picky taste buds. The not overly sweet cookie fits your dessert criteria perfectly, just like you and Bada's hands fit each other perfectly but that was long forgotten.

''There they are! Let's play spin the bottle now!" Hyerim exclaimed while sending Dohee a wink. It was obvious she was trying to make her friend happy and maybe give her the chance to kiss the girl she spent sleepless nights crying over. However, Hyerim wouldn't let her teenagey thoughts win if she knew the way Bada used to smile at you, nevertheless, it was too late for that because you and a few other people gathered in a circle.

Hyerim went over the ''rules'' quickly, saying if you don't want to kiss the other person you have to take a shot of whatever alcohol was left. Everyone agreed, eagerly to kiss one another or just drink some more. In the first round, the bottle landed on Hyerim and Soobin. They shared a peck playfully without any hesitation. You were up next, the cap of the bottle stopped between Bada and Dohee, the in-love girl clearly not thinking it through because she was too excited to be staying so close to the woman next to her, obviously they won't kiss at all since they aren't sitting on the opposite of each other.

''Okay Y/N who are you gonna kiss??" Hyerim said full of curiosity, a little afraid of the decision you have to make.

''You don't have to kiss anyone Y/N. It's just a stupid game.'' Soobin babbled.

''Dohee.'' You said firmly while looking straight into her eyes. She couldn't handle all the eyes on her, especially yours and Bada's so her view dropped to the bottle in front of her.

''I-'' Dohee gasped trying to form a sentence unsuccessfully, not only because of her drunken state and emotions but because another voice chimed in.

"Kiss her." Bada assented. "It's not like you haven't kissed her before. Kiss her." She repeated smirking while your eyes locked. You won't lie, the multi-colored hair really fits her, just as she thought about how well the rhinestones make your eyes pop.

You grabbed Dohee's face and kissed her. Now you'd blame it on the martini but you specifically bit her lip just right in order to earn a moan from her and a sneer from Bada.

''I'm so calling Taeyoung right now..'' Soobin mumbled trying to remember her passcode in order to call your friend to tell her the shit show she just missed.

(3)

The atmosphere in the room was thick with tension and unspoken words, especially between you, Dohee, and Bada. The game of spinning the bottle continued, but your mind was elsewhere, replaying the moment your lips met Dohee's and the mixed emotions that flashed across Bada's face.

After a few more rounds and a couple of awkward kisses, the game fizzled out, the participants either too drunk or too distracted by their own thoughts. Hyerim, with her ever-bubbling energy, suggested a change in activity, but the mood had shifted. The party was winding down, people were starting to leave or find a spot to crash for the night.

You decided to step outside for a breath of fresh air, the stuffiness of the room becoming too much. As you leaned against the railing of the small balcony, you felt the cool night air brush against your skin, sobering you up a bit. Your thoughts were a jumbled mess, images of Dohee's surprised face and Bada's unreadable expression swirling in your mind.

"Mind if I join you?" a voice asked from behind. You turned to see Bada stepping out onto the balcony, closing the door behind her. The noise from the party became a dull murmur, giving you both a semblance of privacy.

"I wasn't expecting you to be here tonight." you said, trying to keep your voice steady.

Bada leaned against the railing beside you, looking out into the night. "I could say the same about you." she replied. "Seems like we both can't escape each other's orbit, no matter how hard we try. Every time I forget about us you hunt me down." She giggled, earning a chuckle from you.

The silence that followed was heavy, laden with unspoken words and memories of a past relationship that had ended in a whirlwind of emotions. You both knew that whatever had been between you was in the past, yet the remnants of those feelings still lingered.

As the moon cast a shimmering glow on the sandy beach, Bada and you found yourselves walking hand in hand along the shoreline. The sound of crashing waves provided a soothing soundtrack to the unspoken connection between you. With each step, the love between you became replaced by a renewed sense of fear. It might be time to stop swimming into the Sea, maybe it's time to dry yourself off from the sticky saltwater that's been on your skin for so long that it started cracking. As your wounds started to deepen the saltwater couldn't be any good. The stinging sensation was trying to catch your attention, to alarm you that something was wrong but to no avail. You kept swimming and swimming until you couldn't see the shore anymore. That's when you realized you had got lost. In your next life maybe you'll be a fish, that way you and the Sea wouldn't hurt each other. In the one after that maybe you'll be a dog, sleeping at the foot of your owner's bed if it means you get to be on it. You will be just like how she loves you. You will continue to be patient, just as you were in this lifetime. Maybe in another life if it couldn't be in this one.

''I didn't think we'd grow apart so soon.'' Bada's husky voice made goosebumps spread all over your body as her face was now close to your ear, back hugging you. ''You're the first person who made me feel something. I'll forever cherish the moments I had with you.'' As Bada's whispered words reached your ear, a bittersweet mixture of longing and nostalgia flooded your heart. In that moment, you couldn't help but feel a pang of regret for the lost connection, yet also a deep appreciation for the love that had once blossomed between you.

''I knew you were going to leave me but it still hurts.'' Your breathy words managed to escape your throat.

''Thank you for letting me go Y/n because I would not have walked away.'' The emotions of longing and nostalgia washed over you like a tidal wave, reminding you of the way your soul intertwined with Bada's. Each memory, each stolen glance and each word you shared replayed in your mind, leaving you yearning for the future that slowly drifts away, as easy as it comes and as easy as it goes.

Bada hugged you one last time, her arms embracing you so hard that her scent lingered on your shirt-and that was the last thing she ever offered you.

"Why did you tell Dohee to kiss me?" you finally asked, breaking the silence.

Bada turned to look at you, her eyes reflecting a mix of emotions. "Because I know you, Y/n. I know that even if you're trying to move on, a part of you is still stuck in the past. With me. I don't want it to be that way."

You swallowed hard, the truth in her words stinging. "And what about you, Bada? Are you stuck in the past too?"

She hesitated, then let out the answer you already knew. "Maybe. Maybe part of me never really left our bed. But I also know that we can't go back. Too much has happened. And that's okay."

''There was a time when I thought I'd know you forever.'' your reply seemed to suck any thought Bada even had in the first place, leaving her speechless.

Finally, Bada spoke up again. "Look, Y/n, I don't know what the future holds for us, whether we're meant to be in each other's lives or not. But I do know that I want you to be happy, even if it's not with me."

Her words were sincere, and you felt a warm sensation in your chest, a feeling that maybe it was time to truly let go and move forward.

"Thank you, Bada," you said softly. "I want the same for you."

''Is this our goodbye?'' You dared to ask.

"You know I don't believe in goodbyes."

With those final words, you both shared a smile, acknowledging the end of a long and tangled chapter and the beginning of another. As you went back inside, leaving Bada alone with her thoughts, you realized that the night had brought more than just a party; it had brought a sense of closure you never got on the night when you and the Sea decided your love was too powerful so it might cause a tsunami. You felt a sense of uncertainty about what the future held, hoping that somehow she'd be at the end of your path.

That night was the last time you ever saw Bada Lee up close. Your eyes involuntary checked her instagram profile every once in a while or if you were lucky sometimes you'd spot her around uni, your sight being glued to her; your burning stare was never enough to make her turn around tho but still, you couldn't help yourself but think maybe, just maybe, there was a chance for something new to grow from the ashes of the past. Until you dropped that idea because you realized:

one fish would never be big enough to fill the whole Sea.

Authors note: This fic sucked the soul out of me lol ALSO I'm starting a taglist <3 comment if you want to be added or dm me.

taglist: @venuszn

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fairytsuk1 · 1 year

Note

Hello I am in the delusional Bakugo is okay reality and was wondering if we can get a soft request where his girlfriend’s mom thanks Bakugo for continuing to take care of the reader (as if he needs to be asked) when he visits her bedside (despite his own injuries) after the fight with Shigaraki?

bakugou hadn't really realized his way of thinking may not be very healthy when everyone said he spoke more about you than his own horrific injuries. even then, it still doesn't click for him.

"where is she?"

"bakugou," a nurse begins slowly but quickly rushes as he begins to sit up, "please, wait! don't take any of those off!"

the blonde practically snarls at her, and winces before sighing, "did ya' hear me? or do I have to repeat myself?"

the nurse looks at him with an agape mouth before nodding, "she's in room 533. do you... would you like some regular clothing? we weren't expecting you to—"

"i'm fine! i'd like to get out of here as soon as possible," and he swigs some water as if to end the conversation.

eventually, she brings his clothing and he grimaces at the baggy, lack of structure within him. he even gives her an incredulous look, what kind of nurse brings the patient the wrong clothin'? he worries his lip as she describes how, due to the nature of his injuries, it was best not to wear form-fitting clothing.

he has a flashback to when his head whipped backwards and pain shot through his limbs, and he remembers seeing you suspended in air with rods shooting through your stomach.

bakugou is quick to rush out of the room after that, brushing past her and chugging his meds once given them. in his mind, there was only one thing to do which made this a pressing matter. the matter of making sure you were okay was more than pressing, you could call it his life's purpose.

...

you're breathing, and it helps bakugou breathe a little easier too. his apparent disappearance had quickly been reported on by his designated nurse, so he'd heard the story of how "we're doing everything we can" and "she's got a huge chance at recovery."

he hated that these things were becoming all about "chances" and "trying." was it that hard to say that, yes, she would be okay? he'd angrily spat this out of them as they tried to demand he leave the room.

your hand held in his said it all.

bakugou stayed with you all day and night if possible. sometimes he was torn away for physical therapy, regular therapy, federal investigations... the list goes on. you were comatose, with a loose range in movement.

you didn't have to deal with it all, but sometimes he wished you would just so he could hear your smart remarks or hilarious quips. you weren't dead, thank god, but you weren't alive either.

and then one day a lady walks in, put together and holding her purse in her hands tightly. clutched, and she even wears sunglasses. bakugou's never seen her before and yet he feels intimidated to take his hand away from yours and stand. even give her a really respectful bow, but who?...

"hello, honey," your mother chokes out as she's overwhelmed by emotion of your weak body recovering.

then she turns to bakugou, and his blood is rushing in his ears. maybe someone should call a nurse, he might faint right here.

"...and you must be bakugou?"

he nods, "...hello. i wasn't aware you were visiting, sorry for intrudin'."

your mother almost lets him slip away, clearly flustered to have met his girlfriend's mom in this non-traditional way.

"don't be. when i heard you were staying with her as often as possible..."

perhaps bakugou and your mother are more similar than they appear. they can't seem to find the words sometimes.

"thank you for taking care of my daughter,"

i approve.

if bakugou was surprised by the gratefulness, he does her one better.

"'ts what you do,"

for the people you love.

the unlikely pair bow at each-other, reddened cheeks and twitches of a smile.

and then your eyes flutter open.

#bakugou katsuki x reader #boku no hero academia x reader #katsuki bakugou x reader #my hero academia x reader #bakugou x reader

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midgardian-witch · 4 months

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Blame It On The Moon

Jack has been distantly lately. A dangerous encounter in the woods shows you how much affection Jack and his wolf side really have for you.

ships: Jack Russell/afab!Reader

word count: 5.9k

AO3

Jack had been distant as of late. You had blamed it on the moon at first. Time had slowly creeped toward the dreaded full moon. The few days surrounding it always had him a bit cagey. You'd been traveling with Jack and Ted for so long identifying their moods had become second nature. Ted's humming and grunts got easier to interpret day by day. Even reading Jack had become easier, even though he hides his wolfish traits rather well. At this point you could figure out the current moon phase just by watching your werewolf companion for a while.

So while you had blamed his strange behavior on the moon at first something is gnawing at the back of your mind. The way Jack hastily excused himself from your presence whenever you joined him and Ted for coffee or how when you'd wake up in the middle of the night - startled by the sound of an animal stepping on a particularly loud twig - you'd find neither hide nor hair of the werewolf. It all started to feel more and more like Jack was actively avoiding you. The why eluded you though. You had become good friends with the werewolf since you had joined him and Ted. Or so you thought at least. Had you done something to upset him? You'd talk to him and ask but every time you tried he'd made a quick exit.

You slump down on a tree stump with a sigh. The rustling of foliage and a worried sounding grumbling alerts you to Ted's presence. You shake your head and wave him off.

"Don't worry about it, Ted. I'm just overreacting." Or so you hope.

The creature sits down next to you, raising an arm and offering a hug. You smile at him, grateful for his empathy and lean into the embrace. You take a deep breath and mumble a quiet thanks as he gives your body a soft squeeze. Even though Ted could look terrifying at first glance you know what a gentle being he truly is. Especially in times like this when emotions run high he’s like a calming balm for your soul.

A few moments pass before you lean back from the embrace. Ted's big red eyes look at you in his very own version of the puppy dog eyes. A small laugh escapes you and you nod.

"Yes, that helped. I feel a lot better already. Thank you, Ted."

Ted answers you with a pleased hum. His gaze drifts from your face to something behind you. You turn around to see what caught your friend's attention when you see Jack standing a few paces away, frozen in place. His mouth hangs open slightly as if he tried to say something but forgot what he wanted to say immediately after. He looks at you and for the first time since your very first meeting you can't pinpoint what emotion is going through his head.

The look on his face is something you hadn't seen before. He almost looks angry? Disappointed? You're not quite sure and yet whatever this emotion is it's making you even more worried given his latest tendency to flee the scene whenever you were present. You take a step closer, unsure whether your presence is wanted or not.

"Jack, are you alright? I haven't seen you around much lately. Did something happen?"

Better to be blunt than struggle with subtlety and unnecessary niceties if you want to get behind what is going on with your friend. With every step you take, Jack's posture seems to stiffen even more, shoulders tense and jaw locked. You stop a few paces away from Jack, tilting your head quizzically. The man in front of you just stares at you, seemingly not having heard a thing you said while at the same time seeming keenly aware of your movements.

"Jack?"

You take another tentative step and like a scared rabbit he suddenly bolts. At the spot in which mere seconds ago your friend and companion stood is not even a Jack-shaped dust cloud left. You see him vanish back into the woods as you let out a frustrated sigh. So much for talking things over.

You turn back to Ted who looks at you with his red glowing eyes and you suddenly feel pitied. Ted humms mournfully, his gaze drifting back to where Jack fled into the forest.

"I don't know what I did for him to run from me like I have the plague", you mumble under your breath as you kick a defenseless stone in front of your feet. You only get a thoughtful grunt from Ted this time.

"Or am I just overreacting? Is it just some new werewolf quirk he gets when the moon is getting fuller?"

Your thoughts tumble around like each one is a loose item in a desk drawer. Why would he react like this now? He'd been nervous or a bit jumpy in earlier moon cycles but never like this. Or at least not since you had joined the small group that was Ted and Jack.

Ted's thoughtful rumble doesn't give you any more insight on Jack's strange behavior. You sit back down next to him and bury your face in your hands, letting out another frustrated sigh.

"So you think it's just because there is a full moon tonight and he doesn't want to be close and potentially hurt me?"

You don't turn to Ted as you question his reasoning, instead you look up and watch as the sun is starting to slowly set over the horizon. This whole situation, the worrying and uncertainty, made your head spin. You're rubbing the bridge of your nose to stave off the beginnings of a headache.

Ted hums in affirmation and you choose to trust his judgment. He knew Jack longer than you did after all. And yet that answer did nothing to stop the nervous flutter in your stomach. Maybe you really were overthinking things. Jack was a kind and thoughtful man, it made sense for him to want to keep you safe, however strange it may seem. His protectiveness was one of the traits you admired in him. More than admired even.

It's been a few weeks since you realized that your feelings towards Jack were more than just those one would have for a platonic friend. He made you feel safe and cared for regardless of the circumstances. You were in the woods in the middle of nowhere and yet you had never felt safer. Ted had a big part in that too but with Jack things were different. While Ted had become a great friend you didn't wake up from dreams of you two kissing tenderly under a starlit sky. But with Jack? You'd lost count of how often you wake up from dreaming about your lips pressing against his, hands combing through his unruly hair.

All of this makes the distance he has inadvertently put between the two of you hurt even more. Did he know? Could werewolves sense things like that? Crushes? They say wolves can smell fear, was it the same for other emotions? Could he hear the way your heart beat faster whenever you got too close? Is that why Jack is staying away? Maybe he just wants to let you down easy but is too nice to tell you to your face that he is not interested in you. Not in that way. Just as a friend.

You shake your head as you let out another groan of frustration. No, you would not let yourself go down that train of thought. Your crush on Jack was bad enough but you would not put words in his mouth like that. You'd have to just ask him, talk to him about it. Somehow. When he doesn't just run away again.

You look back at Ted, his red eyes studying you carefully. "I'll talk to him about that after the full moon. I've been safe before without him avoiding me for days on end. There needs to be a better solution."

You stand up and walk over to the small tent you and Jack used for shelter when the three of you were traveling - though at this point it hadn't been used by Jack in a while. A part of you is grateful for that especially since you've developed more than platonic feelings for the werewolf. Sleeping in the same tent as the man you have a crush on was dangerous territory.

You enter the tent with one goal in mind: finding a distraction. Jack wouldn't be back before the morning at this rate and you'd rather not be alone with your thoughts at this time. You remember that there was a deck of cards around here somewhere. Roping Ted into playing a few rounds with you before it was time to retire for the night should keep your mind off of Jack for the time being.

Digging around your belongings you come across something you hadn't seen in a while. From between Jack's things you recognize a soft piece of fabric - a scarf you had lent Jack early on when you decided to travel with the strange duo. Another security measure, or so the werewolf had explained, something to remember you by - to remember your scent - should you ever come across the wolf. Next to it you find sturdy iron chains, a bit on the older side but still functional. They were the chains Jack used to keep himself locked up and tied down at a full moon.

Wait.

What were the chains doing here when it was already starting to get dark and Jack was who-knows-where alone in the woods? A shiver runs down your spine. Jack wouldn't be this careless, not if there wasn't something bigger at play.

You gather up your scarf and the iron chains, the card deck you came here for completely forgotten, and leave the tent. The chains rattle in your arms as you return to Ted's side. He gives you a questioning groan, head tilted to the side, as you stuff the heavy chains into your backpack and tie your scarf around your neck.

"Jack left these and it's already getting dark. I have no idea how he could forget them but I have to get them to him before we have a werewolf wandering the woods. What if there are people camping? What if some hiker decided to go out at night for whatever-the-fuck. What if-"

What if he hurts someone innocent? Jack would never be able to live with himself after that.

You close your bag with shaking hands, heart racing like you just ran a marathon. Putting on your backpack you take one last look at Ted.

"I have to find him. I'll be fine. Just stay here in case he comes back before I find him."

Ted just nods, knowing once you had made up your mind he couldn't do much to dissuade you. With a soft hum he asks you to be safe and you give him a smile that you hope comes across as confident before you make your way into the woods.

You're nervous, walking through the thick foliage, tall, sturdy trees obscuring most of the last rays of sunlight that fight their way over the horizon. You try to focus your senses on finding Jack, the sound of careful footsteps, the sight of a figure moving through the bushes or just the eerie feeling of someone being nearby, anything. But all you feel is your heart threatening to beat out of your chest, all you hear is your own quickened breath. What if you're too late?

In desperation you start calling his name, your voice getting more and more panicked each time. After what feels like hours of walking but could have only been a few minutes of almost screaming yourself hoarse you finally hear the answering call of your own name. You stop in your tracks, eyes frantically searching for the source of the voice, Jack's voice. At a distance you see a figure move towards you. You call out his name again and the figure moves faster. Finally you see him fully, Jack closing in on you, his face a mirror of your own panic.

"What are you doing here? The sun is almost down! You can't be here, it's too dangerous!"

You nod, completely agreeing, as you take off your backpack and open it, showing him the thick iron chains inside.

"I am aware of that, thank you. But I couldn't let you be out here alone without these."

You pull the chains out of the bag and hold them out towards him. His face lights up in recognition before his brows furrow. He looks guilty.

"I- I completely forgot. Dios mio, thank you. I just-"

He takes the chains and looks around as if he suddenly realized he was lost. His eyes find the thick trunk of a tree nearby and he walks towards it. Jack takes a few rounds around the tree, inspecting it and giving it a small nod when he deems it suitable. He turns back to you, still a guilty look on his face as he asks: "Would you-? Could you- uh. Help me with this?"

He must have done this so many times before and yet he stands before you like a lost child. Your heart squeezes uncomfortably in your chest as you nod and follow him to the tree. Carefully you wrap the iron chains around the tree and Jack, securing him to it like a hostage in one of those countless Robin Hood movies. You worry about hurting Jack but he guides you through the motions, telling you how tight the chains should be in order to hold him back.

Your hands feel like they are burning after you are done - from the cold or the strain to them you don't know. You take a step back and look at the man in front of you. A quiet part in the back of your mind suggests that now is the time to make Jack talk, now that he can't run away again, but you push that voice back. By the thickness of the tree crowns you can't say how much daylight you have left and the wolf would certainly not be able to answer your questions.

"You should leave."

You can tell he is trying to sound stern and yet his eyes betray him, pleading for you to heed his words. You take a moment to just look at him. You won't lie and say you aren't curious about the other him, the wolf. But that curiosity is overshadowed by a very different emotion.

You don't want him to be alone.

It's silly maybe. Staying here would be dangerous for you. No one can predict if Jack will still recognize you when he turns or if the chains, old as they are, would even hold tonight. But you have seen the aftermath enough to know that whatever happens on the full moon it drains Jack. Hurts him in ways that no blade nor bullet can. And you don't want him to go through that alone.

Your pondering is disturbed by groans of pain. Jack is writhing against the chains, body shaking violently. Your eyes widen as you look up and only see a bit of silvery light shining through the leaves.

The full moon had risen.

Jack's groans of pain turn into inhuman growling. You watch as his limbs shift, claws and fur growing. It's hard to avert your gaze from this gruesome sight, your eyes linger while your mind tells you to run. And yet you are frozen in place, by shock or by fear is unclear and irrelevant. Time slows down as you watch the figure in front of you strain against the chains, growling like a cornered animal. He doesn't even seem to notice you anymore.

"J-Jack?"

Immediately his eyes are on yours.

Oh.

You'd have thought his eyes would look different but they are still Jack's. Still the same beautiful brown-green. Time slows down as the two of you just stare into each other's eyes and you feel like you can't breathe.

Getting closer would be a horrible idea. Terrible. Absolutely stupid.

As you try and talk yourself out of doing something that could get you seriously hurt or worse killed the wolfman starts to sniff the air around himself. A soft whine takes you by surprise. His eyes had become impossibly large, pupils dilated to leave nothing but black. He keeps panting and sniffing and whining, looking at you with the one thing you would have expected from Jack but not the wolf: puppy dog eyes.

You blink as if it would change the scene in front of you. Maybe you hit your head on your way here or maybe you stumbled and this is a dream or hallucination.

The surrealism of the situation gives you the courage to step forward, closer to the werewolf tied to a tree. You are only a few paces away before Jack starts to struggle against the chains again, growling and snarling angrily. You flinch and step back again. As you leave his proximity the wolf starts to whine again, looking at you with big, round eyes, pleading. Your first thought is that he wants to be free from those chains. Who wouldn't be after all? Nobody wants to be held against their will.

You take another careful step forward, repeating this strange dance of two steps forward, one step back - all the time never breaking eye contact with the wolf. Each time you come closer Jack fights harder against his restraints. Each time you step back he starts whining and whimpering like a dog begging for treats.

You just hope he doesn't see you as the treat.

Repeating this song and dance multiple times you are now about an arm's length away from Jack. He is still straining and fighting against the chains but it doesn't scare you as much as it did but a few minutes ago. Slowly, carefully you raise your hand. Jack's eyes look away from yours for the first time - eager to watch your hand, head tilted towards it, eagerly taking in your scent. You swallow hard hoping against hope that if anyone saw you they would blame the heat in your cheeks on the cold. Your fingers softly brush against Jack's cheek and you feel his fur for the first time. You're in awe, your hand hovering next to his face. You'd never thought his fur would feel this soft.

A rumbling startles you out of your thoughts and it takes you a moment to figure out the source of the sound. You can feel Jack rubbing his face against your hand, softly growling, almost like a purr, as he eagerly chases your touch. You can't quite stop the nervous laugh that forces its way out of your lungs. You resume your petting and the content rumbling sound gets louder, echoing in the empty forest.

"Is that it? You want to be petted?"

You don't really expect an answer but you feel like you can't just stay quiet around Jack, even if he isn't the best conversationalist at the moment. His mouth is hanging open, panting loudly, allowing you a closer look at his sharp fangs. The werewolf gives another whine, not content with just rubbing his cheek against the palm of your hand anymore. He drags his tongue along the inside of your wrist leaving a damp stripe of saliva in its wake. You gasp, embarrassed by the unbidden thoughts of how that tongue would feel in other places.

Hesitantly you take a step back, needing the physical distance to compose yourself. You ignore the disgruntled growling of the werewolf and close your eyes, taking a deep breath. This was a bad idea. Jack isn't in his right mind and you shouldn't take advantage of that. Not to mention that the wolf in front of you may seem somewhat harmless now but that could change any second. You should leave and find Jack again in the morning to untie him. Or tell Ted where to find him.

A metallic groan disrupts your thoughts and when you open your eyes again you see Jack pulling at his chains. You take another startled step back as the werewolf breaks his restraints, metal bending and breaking under his inhuman strength.

In a flash he is on you, your body crashing into the ground. Your back hits the earth and you gasp, pain shooting up your spine. As you look up you see right into those stunning eyes that held you captivated only moments ago. Jack kneels over you, his whole body trapping you underneath him. He bends over, nuzzling into your neck. You hear nothing but his hot breath and your own heart pounding in your ears. You keep completely still, afraid that any small move could be the wrong one and thus your last. You were never afraid of Jack but the wolf had you terrified. You flinch involuntarily as you feel his wicked tongue against your neck, sharp canines dragging softly against your skin. Heat curls in your abdomen as you gasp out his name. The rumble in his chest vibrates through you as his body crowds yours. There is no space, no air left between the two of you as Jack rubs his face against your neck, claws against your sides and his hips sliding against your legs.

It feels like your mind is made out of static as you feel the drag of his sizable erection against your thighs. You were afraid the wolf was seeing you as a treat to devour - you didn't know how right and wrong you were before now.

"J-Jack! Oh God", you gasp as the werewolf keeps grinding down on you frantically. You wrap your arms around his broad shoulders, fingers digging into the dark fur, pulling him even closer. With a pleased rumble he paws at your clothes, eager to get them off, to expose more and more of your skin. His claws rip through your clothes, the fabric tearing apart like tissue paper. You shiver at the contrast between the heat radiating off of Jack and the cool night breeze, goosebumps prickling over your skin. Jack drags his tongue from your neck over your collarbone to the swell of your chest. Your nipples stiffen with Jack's proximity and the low temperature of everything but yourself and the werewolf currently bent over you.

He huffs against your bare skin, his tongue swirling around your peaked nipples. With a choked off moan you squirm beneath Jack. He holds you down with his sheer mass, his hips still grinding against you. You can feel the heat of his hard cock through the fabric of your pants.

"F-fuck! Jack please-"

You don't even know if he understands you, how much Jack there is left in this creature but you can't help yourself. Desperate for more, you tighten your grip on his fur and try to guide his head lower. The werewolf offers no resistance, only a questioning hum as he traces the path downward with his tongue. Once his face is right above your clothed pussy he inhales deeply, taking in the scent of your arousal that is evident to him even through your clothing. His whole body shudders and all air leaves his lungs with a dark growl.

You flinch at the sound, your sex-addled mind clearing as you are once again aware of who and especially what you are currently laying under. This was dangerous. What are you even doing? You can't just have sex with Jack while he is under the influence of the full moon. This was a glaring consent issue. What if he doesn't want you like that? What if the wolf would actually try to eat you? What if-

You are violently pulled out of your thoughts by your pants being ripped apart by two clawed hands and dragged off of your body. With a surprised yelp you try and scramble backwards but the wolf is faster. His claws dig into the soft flesh of your thighs much more gently than you could have anticipated. Once again you feel like you are pinned down like a butterfly in a display case.

Jack spreads your legs apart, his face so close to your core with only the thin fabric of your underwear covering you. You watch him and try your best to stay still. His tongue runs along the already soaked fabric of your panties. You gasp and your hips involuntarily cant upwards, desperately seeking more friction. Jack repeats the motion with a satisfied growl before you feel his fangs against your skin.

Your heart is pounding in your ears, both terrified and aroused by the sharp glide of his canines so close to your sensitive cunt. With one sharp tug on the flimsy fabric the wolf tears your underwear apart with his teeth. You can feel the cold air against your wet folds and instinctively try to cross your legs but you are stopped by Jack still hunched between your thighs.

Quickly the freezing forest breeze is replaced by the hot panting of the werewolf, his face hovering over your glistening cunt. Another satisfied rumble vibrates through his chest before his flexible tongue slides between your wet folds in long, firm strokes. Your whole body shudders as his tongue circles your sensitive clit, a choked off moan falling from your lips. You tighten your grip on his fur, desperately clinging to him for support.

Slowly, like rolling waves, you feel your orgasm approaching. At once it rushes over you, your whole body shaking with its intensity. Your breath shudders as the last waves of your orgasm ripple through your body and your arms fall weakly to your sides. For a moment you forget the surreal situation you are in and just enjoy the afterglow of such an intense climax.

You can feel Jack’s hot breath against your sensitive sex. He climbs over you once more, caging you in under his broad form, his throbbing cock lying heavy against your abdomen. Jack slowly drags his cock down between your legs, rubbing teasingly between your folds. You gasp at the feeling and look up. His dark eyes seem to devour you, like the feast he just made of your pussy wasn't enough to sate him.

Mind still buzzing with the afterglow of your orgasm you blearily watch Jack’s canine face. It takes you a moment to recognize the question in the wolf's eyes. You're stunned for a second with the realization that even when turned into this beast that he so fears, Jack would never force himself on you. Not trusting yourself to get the words out you nod instead. The wolf's pleased rumble fills your ears and you feel the blunt pressure of his cock against your entrance soon after.

Even with how wet you are, especially after your recent orgasm, you can feel the stretch of Jack's impressive girth entering you. He pushes inside you slowly, much slower than you'd expect from the werewolf. You gasp, his size more than you'd ever felt. Jack halts his movements and lets out a soft, almost worried sounding whine. You take deep breaths, squeezing your eyes closed and try to relax around his uncomfortable size.

“I’m alright. Just- just give me a moment,” you force the words out between your lips. Your face is twisted in pain, not too much to overwhelm you but enough to make your breath shudder. Suddenly you feel Jack's nose and cheek rub against yours, his apologetic whimpers filling your ears. He's trying to soothe you or maybe apologize - you're not sure. Your eyes blink open and with shaky hands you reach out to grasp his face gently.

It's difficult to read Jack's facial expressions like this, his wolfish features distorting the soft smiles or raised eyebrows you're so used to from Jack. The only thing unchanged by his transformation are his eyes, still so expressive even under the influence of the full moon. You take deep breaths, trying to calm your mind and relax. Jack rubs his cheek against yours, whimpering softly in your ear. “It’s ok. I know you don’t want to hurt me,” you try to soothe him, your fingers playing with his fur.

It takes you a few moments until you feel ready to continue. “You can move now. But slowly,” you tell him softly, your hands still buried in his fur, “Please.” He nods in understanding and the werewolf slowly starts moving his hips. You feel his massive cock drag against your slick walls, the pain his size and girth had caused you turning gradually into pleasure. Jack trembles over you, the need to just mindlessly plow into you slowly growing stronger than his restraint. As he bottoms out you shudder, your drawn out moan echoing through the forest. Jack stays unmoving inside you, his head buried in your neck, panting heavily into your ear. You can feel his cock pulse inside your pussy and you instinctively clench around him. With a deep growl his hips stutter and you gasp.

“Move oh god please move,” you beg. Jack doesn’t leave you waiting and at once he starts really fucking into you. His clawed hands hold your hips tightly and leave you unable to move as he buries his cock in you again and again. It’s maddening feeling him so deep inside of you, feeling him everywhere. The werewolf responds to every flutter of your cunt, to every sound spilling from your lips, growling and fucking you faster and harder. The last thought you have is that you won’t be able to walk in the morning and then he hits that spot inside of you that makes your mind go blank. Your eyes roll into the back of your head and you let out an ungodly moan. You can’t think, all you know is the feeling of his massive cock splitting you open and the inhuman wolfman using fucking you like a human-sized fleshlight. It’s absolute bliss and you let yourself fall into the pleasure he gives you. You’re babbling something; you can hear your voice but you don’t know what you’re saying but he seems to understand, huffing and puffing in response. He lifts your hips and the angle makes you cry out even louder. The slick sound of his cock plowing into you is obscene but you don’t care. You’re getting closer and closer to your second orgasm, your fingers digging almost painfully into his fur, urging him on until a particularly hard thrust makes you see stars and pushes you over the edge. It’s too much, the pleasure overwhelming you as everything goes dark and you lose consciousness.

The first thing you notice when you come to yourself is the hard ground under you and the heavy weight on top of you. You open your eyes and the sunlight spilling through the leaves makes you squint. How long were you out? If the sun was already out then-

The weight on top of you shifts and you hear Jack grumble. Not the wolf but Jack. A very human, very naked Jack lays on you, his head on your chest. You freeze when you feel him slowly rouse from his sleep. Panic rises in your chest. What would you tell him? Did he remember what happened last night? Your spiraling thoughts grind to a halt when Jack’s eyes, heavy with sleep, find yours. His brow furrows as he mumbles your name. Realization dawns on his face and you can’t do anything but watch, anything you could say to him stuck in your throat. But where you expect embarrassment or disgust you only find terror. “Oh no, what did I do?” he whispers to himself. “Jack, I-” He sits up and the missing weight on you feels wrong. His eyes scan your body, taking in your ripped clothing. “Did I hurt you? Ay Dios, what did I do?” “Jack,” you try to pull his attention towards you, voice raised, “You did nothing wrong. You didn’t hurt me.” His eyes find yours trying to catch you in a lie but he finds only the truth. His shoulders slump with a deep sigh.

You stay quiet before Jack breaks the silence. “Why did you stay with me? You could have died!” He is still frowning but you can hear the anger in his voice. “I wanted to help! I-,” you explain as you sit up and try to cover yourself with the bits and pieces of clothing you are left with, “The wolf, he wanted me to stay. He didn’t attack me.” Jack swallows around the lump in his throat, pointedly not looking at you when you cover up to give you some privacy. “It’s a beast. You should have run. You should have-” “He didn’t attack me, Jack. He likes me.” A faint blush creeps on his face. “Likes you? I don’t think that describes quite what happened here,” he mumbles sheepishly.

Jack carefully sneaks a peek at you, not so subtly checking for injuries again. “Are you sure you aren’t hurt?” He sounds so worried and it breaks your heart. “I’m alright. A bit sore maybe but no injuries.” Jack clears his throat awkwardly, “Sore? Oh dear. I am so sorry. I didn’t- I mean, I wasn’t-” Gently you put your hand on his shoulder. “It’s ok. You weren’t in control. I know you don’t like me like that,” you reassure him, the words leaving a bittersweet taste in your mouth. He looks at you like you’re speaking in tongues. “You don’t…mi vida, I thought I was pretty obvious,” he says, embarrassment clear in his voice. You blink at him in confusion. “What do you mean?” Jack swallows hard and turns towards you fully. “I like you. Very much. I mean, I am attracted to you,” he sighs, rubbing his face, “The closer the full moon gets the harder it is to hide my feelings. I was close to ripping Ted apart yesterday just because he gave you a hug. It’s maddening.”

Your heart races, heat spreading through your cheeks. “You- You mean that you-” “I’m in love with you. And I know this is the worst timing and I really didn’t want our first time to be like this,” he motions around him. Your heart feels heavy and light at the same time. “I love you too, Jack.” He smiles at you, a big toothy grin that makes you smile too. “I’m glad. I didn’t think you did. That’s why I tried to hide it.” You nod in understanding given that you did pretty much the same. You tell him as much as you lean in closer, resting your head on his shoulder.

You don’t know how long you stay like this, the sun rising further and the forest waking around you. It’s only when you gather your things and make your way back to camp, careful of any hikers catching you in the nude that you turn to Jack and ask: “How do we tell Ted?” Jack laughs, shaking his head. “I have a feeling he already knows, mi vida.”

#jack russell x reader #jack russell #werewolf by night #wbn #jack russell/reader #wbn fanfic #werewolf by night fanfic #fran-writes

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leclercdreams · 2 years

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hi! can i get an imagine in which max v is taking care of the reader after an appendix removal surgery?

𝐓𝐚𝐤𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐂𝐚𝐫𝐞 𝐎𝐟 𝐘𝐨𝐮 ❘❘ 𝘔𝘢𝘹 𝘝𝘦𝘳𝘴𝘵𝘢𝘱𝘱𝘦𝘯

pairing: Max Verstappen x Fem!Reader

warnings: None really, just overall fluff, Max being a protective and caring partner

word count: 1.42K

a/n: All information was found on google, and translations are from google as well (despite me being able to read Dutch, I can't spell it or speak it really) ENJOY!! ps, Yes I am using summer break again.

Getting surgery wasn't exactly how you wanted your summer break to start, it was the only time you really got to spend with your fiancé. Max had a busy schedule all the time due to his job, one he loved and one you had come to love just as much.

Just three days before you both were due to meet your family in Ibiza for a holiday to relax and unwind you sadly had to call them to cancel. Now two days later you were led into the uncomfortable hospital bed having gone into emergency surgery to get your appendix removed.

Max was moving around the room freely while packing your things, you were allowed to go home if you made sure to not overwork yourself and take it easy for at least two to four weeks to let yourself heel. You could after a few days go on the holiday you two wanted to go on if you could get him to agree.

“Schatje, Are you listening?” Walking over to your side you looked up at Max and have him a sheepish smile shaking your head while he helped you sit up. “No, sorry. What did you say, love?” Taking a seat on the bed he grabbed your hand softly and placed the earrings you always wore in your hand that you had to take off for surgery, wincing slightly when you leaned forward and kissed his cheek. “And my ring?”

Your engagement ring was one of your most prized possessions, it was made specifically for you and if you could recall correctly Victoria had told you he spent almost six months of planning, choosing every little detail on the ring before your engagement. You loved everything about it and about the man who put it on your finger there to stay, only the matching wedding band missing that he had safe and hidden at home.

Sending you a smile he stood once again and reached into the tiny pocket of his jeans pulling out the shiny piece of jewelry. Grabbing your left hand he slid it onto your finger and kissed your hand. “Right where it belongs. Are you ready to go home?” “I’m more than ready, lover.” Helping you out of bed and into the wheelchair he handed you your pillow, and one of the bags while he slung the other one over his shoulder.

Covering your body with some of his merch you had loved since the first time you got it, the perks of dating at the time, and being one of the models for the photos meant you got whatever you wanted. Though you preferred to wear his hoodies just to have his scent with you.

“Mum said she and the family will still join your parents on holiday so it doesn’t go to waste. I’m sorry you have to spend your break stuck with me.”

Rolling his eyes he leaned down and kissed your head while wheeling you out waving at the doctor and some of the nurses. “It’s not a bother for me, and I have been thinking about what you said schatje, if you feel better and ready to move around we can go on a little holiday before the season starts back up.

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You had never been so happy to be back in your shared apartment in Monaco, though you missed the gloomy weather of England you would move anywhere if it meant you got to be with him.

Grateful, would be one word to describe what you felt to have him in your life, before going home he had stopped anywhere to get what you needed before helping you get comfortable on the sofa in his gaming room when arriving home. You didn’t want him to change all of his plans so while you were there still with him as he insisted you were within hearing distance and to keep his eye on you.

He was about to go on a streak with Lando, the two continuing the antics they had started during the lockdown. “You sure you have everything?” Giggling at his worry and the frown that adorned his handsome face you reached out to where he was sitting on the edge of the sofa and placing your hand on his cheek. “I’m fine handsome, you enjoy your time with Lan, I’ll be here enjoying my own thing.” Nodding he leaned forward and pressed his lips to your soft ones, returning the kiss eagerly you poured when he pulled away.

“Just one more?” Chuckling he pressed his lips to yours again, sighing softly you relaxed and pulled away kissing his nose and looking into the beautiful blue eyes, the shade of blue that had become your favourite after the years. “Go on, I have my shows to catch up on, I’m behind on Love Island.” Humming he kissed your cheek and got up taking a seat on his chair. You had only placed one of your earphones in so that you could steal everything.

About an hour into the stream your ears perked up when you heard your name fall from your fiancé’s lips, “Y/n is doing very well, sorry for not getting back to you all I’ve spent my time taking care of her. She’ll be up and at it again in no time.” Smiling softly you turned your head to where he was waving at the camera that clearly showed where you were comfortable on n the sofa laptop on your lap. Looking over his shoulder he smiled and looked back in front of him.

When it came to nighttime and you had to take a shower you wanted to let out a loud groan, you weren’t quite sure if you’d be able to wash your dirty hair yourself not wanting to put too much strain on the stitches you had. Hearing a soft knock over the running water you looked into the mirror seeing Max enter.

“Did you read my mind?” “That would be pretty cool, but no, I was actually listening to the doctor when she came to talk to you.” You could feel your cheeks flame up while looking away from him, humming you got into the shower standing under the water thankful for the waterproof bandaid covering the small cut.

Not even minutes later you could feel his hands running down your arms, lips pressing against the soft skin of the shell of your ear a shiver running down your spine. “Need some help?” Turning your head to the side you sent him a smile and pecked his lips. “Please, my love.”

Wetting your hair you forced yourself not to let out any noise when you felt his fingers massage the shampoo into your scalp. There were many things that could be heaven on earth this was one of yours, he wasn’t working too hard on your scalp but also not too soft.

Staying in the shower for as long as you could you both got ready side by side, since he got with you Max had gotten into a nighttime routine, though it was much shorter and simpler than yours he left the en-suite with a kiss to your wet hair you wanted to leave to dry naturally to get the bed ready.

Replying to your mother and his that you were doing okay and you had the best carer in the world taking care of you. He was by your side when you got into bed wincing at the uncomfortable feeling, but when you settled in you sighed and waited for your lover to return to your side.

When he turned off the lights and slipped into bed next to you moving closer he turned on his side and paved his head close to tears his arm going around you careful not to put too much pressure on you. A kiss on your shoulder made you snap out of your daydream and look at him.

“Thank you, for taking care of me and for helping me, for being here, and for loving me. I love you so much.” Drawing patterns on your exposed skin he smiled and lifted his arm up resting on his elbow while he leaned down and peppered your face with kissed your nose scrunching up.

“I love you more schatje. I’d do anything and everything for you always. Now get some rest so you can heal and we can have a short holiday, yeah?”

Letting out a soft laugh you nodded and kissed him one last time moving closer to him wanting to be as close as you possibly could, maybe the surgery won’t stop all of your plans after all.

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