#I know none of you came here for the OCs but you don't know how much it watered my crops to write them talk about their friends | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

breitzbachbea · 2 years

Text

Day 6: Pirates & Mermaids [TurGre]

My fourth entry for @hwsrarepairweek2022! A Pirate's Life is for ... not Herakles, who'd much rather hang out with his local rat catchers than rats on the corsair ship.

Ship: Turkey/Greece (Sadık Adnan/Herakles Karpuzi) Set in a Human/Historical AU (The Mediterrenean between 1480 to 1570) Please consult ao3 for a full overview of tropes, topics & disclaimers in the tags Read it here on ao3

Herakles & Sadık talk a lot about three human OCs of mine in here - all of which the lovely @captkirkland has drawn for me! [Original Post]

(Left to right: Timothea, Herakles, Omar)

(Left to right: Dilan, Sadık, Havva) (I'll still have to find a way to integrate Havva into this AU, but I'd love to.)

A few big disclaimers before we get started on this:

I sadly did not have the time to delve deeply into the academic archives of the internet to find any papers on Gender, more importantly Gender presentation, Gender construction and Gender deviance in the Ottoman Empire. I'm sure that scholarships on these topics exist and I'll add further readings for you once I find it. Please do not assume any accuracy when it comes to the topic of being transgender in the times & places this is set (The Ottoman Empire around 1480 to 1570). I've tried to the best of my abilities, but that is still based on assumptions and educated guesses. I tried to avoid any hurtful language or phrasing when it comes to the two trans characters (Dilan & Omar), but I'm open to criticism if I said something ignorant.

A lot of this has been influenced by my class "Travel accounts in the Late Medieval Ages." While it deals with the accounts of German pilgrims travelling to Jerusalem and sometimes beyond, I'm confident that many of its aspects can reliably inform the scenario of this One Shot. One of them is certainly the aspect of slavery, which was a common and widely spread occurence all throughout the mediterranean at this time, from Genua to Alexandria.

The main source for Ottoman Corsairs & the Ottoman Navy around this time I could get my hands on was "Die Seeaktivitäten der muslimischen Beutefahrer als Bestandteil der staatlichen Flotte während der osmanischen Expansion im Mittelmeer im 15. und 16. Jahrhundert" by Andreas Rieger, published in Berlin, 1994. However, as solid as I assume the work to be in many regards, it's nearly 30 years old and is heavily slanted towards european sources.

I also used the International Encyclopaedia for the Middle Ages here and there to look up certain things, such as seals.

For the snippets of the Odyssey that Herakles reads, I used Samuel Butler's translation, which is freely available online here!. There are much more modern, and perhaps much more engaging translations of the Odyssey available, if you want to seek the text out for yourself - But this one's online and for free. Most importantly, free for me to copy & save some time.

She's the only one I want, she's my only wish

„That does not look like the letter to the Sancakbey I asked you to write.”

Herakles startled before he froze. He didn’t know how Sadık had managed to enter the captain’s quarters without making a sound. Everything on the ship made sounds, day and night, loud and banging. Sadık was a loud and booming man.

“The letter is over there.” Herakles pointed to a stack of papers on the left end of the low table. He had lowered his head again. “It only needs your approval and seal.”

Sadık did not demand that he turned to look at him. “Why didn’t you tell me that you were done?”

Herakles had become aware of how close he stood behind him. He continued to look at the book in front of him, though he could barely process the words. “I thought it better not to interrupt your prayer, Sir.”

“I finished my prayer a while ago.” Sadık let the words linger, long enough to become uncomfortable, not long enough for Herakles to come up with a reply. In measured steps, he walked around the table and sat down on its other side.

Herakles kept his head down. On the periphery of his vision he saw how picked up the paper. His seal ring was like his hands, weathered and sturdy, but of a beautiful form and a curious intricacy.

By the time that Sadık sealed the letter, Herakles had become engrossed in his readings again. The rustle of paper joined the same background noise as the waves outside and the crew on the ship.

“What is this?”

For the first time, Herakles looked up. Sadık had picked up another letter from the pile. The paper bent to its own weight enough that Herakles could see the writing.

It was in Greek letters.

He stared at the letter before he dared to look Sadık. He didn’t even wear a veil in front of his mouth; Herakles was met with an inquisitive and yet unnervingly shallow look in the brown eyes and an expressionless mouth.

“ … It’s a letter for Natasa,” Herakles admitted and held his gaze.

Sadık broke it and put the letter down. “I see. What is your plan for getting it to Athens?”

“I’ll see to it.”

“Do you have the money for it?”

Herakles tried to ignore the implicit taunt. “There must be some kind soul left on this earth, who’ll put the ease of a worried mother over the weight of their money purse.” Said as if he would believe it.

Sadık snorted. “Well, I should hope you find such an elusive and fantastical creature. Did that book of yours also fall from the skies into your lap that you believe in such miracles?”

Herakles no longer kept the edge out of his voice. He looked at Sadık. “You are prying. And I’d like the illusion that I am not here as a slave that owes you an answer in such private matters, but as a scribe and part of the crew.”

“Well, slaves are part of the crew.” His tone turned from nonchalant to boastful. “And regardless of free or not, Christian or Muslim, Turk or not, anyone on this ship has to answer to me.” A smirk to match had grown onto his face, but now it dimmed. “That was the deal for being signed on and yours is not a special one in that regard.”

Herakles would have returned the letter to Athens himself and then locked himself into his study for all eternity, lest he’d run the risk of ever meeting someone like Sadık again. But his own emotional well-being was of no concern as long as he worried about the lives of his friends Timothea and Omar. “Slaves also get their fair share of loot, so you could have a lot more pretty books, if you wanted to.” Sadık tapped on the open page and Herakles hands cramped while he swallowed his anger.

“I’ll take the illusion of freedom.” His voice was level, as was his look for Sadık, despite the amused twinkle he found in the other’s eyes. “For how long will we be at anchor here?”

“All winter, if things go badly.” Herakles’ expression slipped as he stared at him. “But I hope as much as you do that we can go for one last run. Perhaps catch some Venetian or Genovese stragglers before the winter sets in – Those Venetians have become awfully bold, anyways.” Sadık carefully set aside the letter to Natasa and took the rest of the documents to peruse. “But we’re actually headed for the Spaniards in Sicily.”

“Sicily … Yes, that is a good place …” Herakles was absentminded. He hadn’t seen Michele in many years, but knew that as owner of an inn, he’d have news of who passed through the Mediterranean.

“You’ll only get your loot if you stay for the winter.” Sadık had not lifted his look from the papers.

“I was not going to part ways until I found the twins. Have you any news of your friend?”

Sadık smiled faintly and Herakles did the same, until he realized it. “No, but we’ll sail along a few ports well-disposed towards us, among them the port where Dilan left the ship.” The smile disappeared. “I’m worried for her – Her fate may be the same as the one of your twins.”

Herakles tried not to think of all the possible fates implied, one worse than the other.

“Well, if neither of us knows about the whereabouts of either of our companions, perhaps they’ve met up,” Herakles said. “Your friend is the whole reason why Omar left, and his sister with him.”

“I thought the same. And it’d save us some trouble, if we found them at the same time, wouldn’t it?” Sadık said and glanced at him from the side with a smile that was somewhere between heart-warming and roguish.

“And it is safer for anyone to travel in a group. Even better, either party could vouch for the other if they run into troubles with Christians or Muslims along the way. The twins know their way around people.”

“What do you mean by that?” Herakles thought about how to phrase the twins' gift of adapting to situations as they arose and the characters around them. “That they can vouch for each other?”

His heart slowed down, but didn’t sink completely into his guts. He had told Sadık that the Simonides family were converted Muslims - The Greek Natasa had married a trader from Tunis called Ibrahim and converted to Islam. There had been no lie in this story; it was the life they lived in front of everyone. No one ought to know that Natasa’s conversion had been rather half-heartedly and that the twins had been raised with a knowledge of both religions.

“I’ve known them ever since the three of us were children, you know, and unlike their mother, I did not renounce the Christian faith. Therefore, if they meet another Christian, which could mean trouble for Dilan, they can pretend to be a believer and vouch for her.”

“Blasphemous behaviour.” It was said rather as a statement than a condemnation.

“Perhaps your God and Prophet will allow it, if it is to save a fellow believer from a harsh faith.” Herakles looked away and lowered his eyes. “Though I do not want to speak on matters that do not concern me.” He looked back at Sadık. “I can only speak for their parents, who’d much rather have them back with sin than a martyr.”

“I suppose that much is true. Since their actions are none of my concerns, I’d also rather have them do what they have to do to ensure I’ll get my second in command back safe and sound.” Herakles wondered if somebody else on the ship could hear them, but doubted it. “They owe it to me, in a way. After they used their wiles to ensnare her and led her away from me in the first place.”

Herakles’ lips twitched into a smile as he snorted. A smirk flitted across Sadık’s face, but he didn’t look up from the document that he held in front of him.

Herakles returned to his reading.

'Come here,' they sang, 'renowned Ulysses, honour to the Achaean name, and listen to our two voices…

“If Dilan had any brains left, and she is with the twins, she would have already married Timothea.”

Herakles jolted up. A deep furrow between his brows and his jaw slack, he could muster a “... Huh?” as reply.

Sadık lowered the document and glanced at Herakles, undisturbed by his stare. “It would make sense, if she wanted to keep them safe abroad, travelling within the empire.”

“My apologies, Sir, but I fail to see the sense in marrying your lover’s sister.”

Sadık put the document down. “You’ve heard how the rest of the crew talks about her.”

They would not say her, for a start. “I do.”

Sadık crossed his arms, but soon unfolded them again to gesture. “Well, if she acts on land as she does on the ship, people will recognize her as a man. Which does mean that she wouldn’t be able to marry Omar, but she would be able to marry his sister, which I think would do them better when it comes to fending for themselves in the Empire. There’d be no doubt about the twins' faith and origin that way.”

Sadık had said that he had seen the twins before, or at least Omar, but only from afar or fleetingly. And evidently, Dilan hadn’t told him about how she could have easily married Omar, if one applied Sadık’s logic about her gender to him. Perhaps Omar had even run away to elope with her, with him as wife and her as husband. Although, with the penchant his sister had for women, she perhaps wouldn’t have objected to Sadık’s plan either.

“You’ve understood, Herakles?”

Herakles blinked rapidly. “Yes, yes I have. I see your point now.”

Sadık nodded. “Good.”

“She did behave very much like a man on this ship, the brief time that I knew her.” A scowl crept onto Sadık’s face and Herakles added: “So I think she probably already had the same idea as you, she’d know it would work.”

The scowl disappeared. “She is very practical about such matters. She long preferred women’s garments and women’s ways, but then the sea called and it was easier to be a man out in this world. Well, to act like one.”

“I saw she still wore a veil in a woman’s fashion from time to time.” Herakles rested his cheek on one of his hands. “So she used to live a proper woman’s life?” He lowered his eyes. “If I may ask.”

“You may.” The way he stressed the you confused Herakles. “She did indeed. I have known her since I was a boy. When the time comes where boys turn to men, she instead chose to live as a woman, as she had always wanted. So you must take my word for that she is one, no matter her behaviour and looks, and especially no matter what anybody else says.”

“I would never take anybody else’s word but yours, Captain,” Herakles replied and bit his smile back, to not make Sadık think that he was jesting. The fondness with which he spoke about his friend endeared him to Herakles. It was as if they shared some nebulous connection, some shared life experiences despite leading such starkly different existences.

“Good.” Sadık looked at the book and leant over the table. “What is it that you’re reading?”

Herakles decided to not take the chance and let the friendly tone sour over an evasive answer, though he didn’t know what a truthful one would evoke.

“It’s the Odyssey by Homer.”

It evoked no reaction at all. “What is it about?”

A thousand different answers flitted through his head behind his eyes and Herakles took a deep breath, to give an exhaustive answer to all the ways this question could be answered. However, then he remembered how it would perhaps be wasted on Sadık, as it was to most people that listened to Herakles. Being kicked off a ship far from home was however a much worse fate than being run out of the local tavern.

“The return of Odysseus, king of Ithaka, to said island after the Trojan War and the ten years he spent at sea due to his hubris.” Herakles exhaled all the leftover air with a big sigh.

“No, I meant what is this page you’re reading about,” Sadık replied and Herakles stopped his breath for a second, before he further deflated.

“Oh. It’s about his encounter with the Sirens,” Herakles said and watched Sadık carefully. He yet held back any further remarks about how Odysseus had been warned about them by the enchantress Circe, which of course would warrant an explanation of Circe herself …

“Ah, so it’s about Mermaids,” Sadık said with a smile.

“They’re actually feathered women in this text,” Herakles replied and the smile dropped.

“Huh? Don’t try and pull my leg, I know what the Italians call sirens, I know what you Greeks and everyone else calls sirens. They’re fish women. They’re mermaids.”

“Except they are not in this text.”

“You’re lying to me,” Sadık said. It was a statement.

“I am not!” Herakles insisted.

If anything, it deepened the angry frown on Sadık’s face as his eyes narrowed further. “I get no entertainment out of being fooled.”

“And I get none out of you being a fool.”

Now his eyebrows furrowed hard, but Herakles held his gaze with a stubborn fury. He did not bother with regret in this moment; for if Sadık was already too far gone, grovelling placation would demean them both.

It was the calm before the storm. Sadık was loud, bellowing and imperious. He had seen it in how he treated crew members that contested him. There was no question that Sadık would yell at him before he threw him out of his cabin, only if he’d hit him.

Instead Sadık got up and walked over to the other side of the table, where he sat down next to Herakles. “Read it to me. And you better read it carefully, because you are not the only person who can read Greek on this ship.” As if he spoke to a petulant brat, he repeated: “And I do not appreciate being lied to.”

I doubt the poor souls down at the oars can even look straight ahead anymore, much less read anything, Herakles thought but kept it to himself.

Instead, he put his head down and began to translate the part about the Sirens: “Then, being much troubled in mind, I said to my men, 'My friends, it is not right that one or two of us alone should know the prophecies that Circe has made me, I will therefore tell you about them, so that whether we live or die we may do so with our eyes open. First she said we were to keep clear of the Sirens, who sit and sing most beautifully in a field of flowers; but she said I might hear them myself so long as no one else did. Therefore, take me and bind me to the crosspiece half way up the mast; bind me as I stand upright, with a bond so fast that I cannot possibly break away, and lash the rope's ends to the mast itself. If I beg and pray you to set me free, then bind me more tightly still.”

“Yeah, yeah, just read me the parts about the bird women,” Sadık said and waved his hand.

Herakles closed his eyes so he wouldn’t roll them and exhaled quietly.

“I had hardly finished telling everything to the men before we reached the island of the two Sirens, for the wind had been very favourable.” Herakles went further down the page and the hairs on the back of his neck stood on end when he felt Sadık lean closer to him. “When we had got within earshot of the land, and the ship was going at a good rate, the Sirens saw that we were getting in shore and began with their singing. 'Come here,' they sang, 'renowned Ulysses, honour to the Achaean name, and listen to our two voices. No one ever sailed past us without staying to hear the enchanting sweetness of our song- and he who listens will go on his way not only charmed, but wiser, for we know all the ills that the gods laid upon the Argives and Trojans before Troy, and can tell you everything that is going to happen over the whole world.' They sang these words most musically, and as I longed to hear them further I made by frowning to my men that they should set me free; but they quickened their stroke, and Eurylochus and Perimedes bound me with still stronger bonds till we had got out of hearing of the Sirens' voices. Then my men took the wax from their ears and unbound me.”

Herakles scanned the page further and turned it, but there was no more mention of the Sirens.

“It seems like your claim holds no water,” Sadık said and Herakles furrowed his brows harder in annoyance.

“Perhaps they are described in the warning Circe gives to Odysseus,” Herakles said and turned the pages to find the passage. “First you will come to the Sirens who enchant all who come near them. If any one unwarily draws in too close and hears the singing of the Sirens, his wife and children will never welcome him home again, for they sit in a green field and warble him to death with the sweetness of their song. There is a great heap of dead men's bones lying all around, with the flesh still rotting off them. Therefore pass these Sirens by, and stop your men's ears with wax that none of them may hear; but if you like you can listen yourself, for you may get the men to bind you as you stand upright on a cross-piece half way up the mast, and they must lash the rope's ends to the mast itself, that you may have the pleasure of listening. If you beg and pray the men to unloose you, then they must bind you faster. When your crew have taken you past these Sirens, I cannot give you coherent directions as to which of two courses you are to take; I will lay the two alternatives before you, and you must consider them for yourself.”

The annoyed frown did not subside, but a smirk had stolen itself onto Sadık’s face.

“And, Herakles? Any mentions of birds here? A single feather?”

“Well … no.” Sadık laughed. “But it didn’t say they’re fish either.” The laughter died in his throat. “And other ancient authors, as well as scholars like Eusthatius say –”

“Well, I only care about what this book says,” Sadık tapped the page, “and it says there aren’t any feathered women in here.” He pulled his hand back. “Why would you associate a bird with the sea, anyways?”

Herakles cocked one eyebrow. “You’ve never seen a seagull?”

“Smartass.”

“Let me ask you a question - If they are fish, then why would they be on an island? Fish may be around an island, but not on it.”

“Women may be, though, and they’re only half fish.”

Herakles decided to ignore his point at his own risk. “And did you ever hear a fish sing? Birds do. They sing beautifully.”

“You clearly never heard a seagull.” Herakles opened his mouth to clarify his point, but Sadık wouldn’t let him. “Same answer as before - Fish don’t sing, but women do. Often as beautiful as a nightingale. And they can lure somebody to a nasty fate.”

Herakles didn’t labour the point anymore, for there was no logical argument he could make without the help of other writings.

“I think they sing to Odysseus about knowledge, because that is what he would most desire,” he said instead. He paused for a moment. “In a way, and I mean no offence, but I feel like this is what happened to Omar. That something about Dilan lured him out to sea.”

“She’s not devious like this,” Sadık said with a look of displeasure that Herakles had wanted to avoid.

“I meant not to imply that she is,” he said, softly and in earnest. “Simply that Omar heard a siren call from your ship, with Dilan being clearly the thing he desired the most.”

Sadık held his gaze, but the displeasure faded only slowly.

“Also, I’m the only one who can say that she looks like a bird.” Sadık snickered to himself like a school boy. Herakles frowned in confusion, but it was ignored by Sadık as he carried on with a smile. “I rather think that it was the other way around. That Omar called to her like a siren and lured my second in command away from me, on the dry land and far from home …”

“On the dry land, famously where fish reside.” Herakles couldn’t bite back the jibe, but Sadık didn’t mind.

“Famously where women reside.”

“However. Do not call Omar devious in such a manner either.”

Sadık smiled at him with a curious look. “But in other manners?”

“I said that he and his sister know their way around people, but they wouldn’t run away from home just to play with someone’s heart.”

There was something deeper to Sadık’s gaze now as he smiled at him. Herakles dared not to break the silence, but looked down at his book.

“No, I’m sure they wouldn’t, I’ll take your word for it,” Sadık said. “ … I was thinking more along the lines that there’s a certain allure about you Greeks.”

Sadık scooted closer to Herakles and put an arm around his waist. One of many advances ever since Herakles had begun to travel with him. When he had first asked him for a place on his ship in exchange for his skills, Sadık had taken his chin between his fingers and seized up his face.

Herakles usually resisted them – sometimes he excused himself, stepped away from him or diverted the topic playfully. Sometimes, he harshly reminded Sadık in what capacity he worked on the ship and in which decidedly not or made a bitter quip.

One time he had pushed him so hard that he had fallen. Herakles had run out of the cabin and hid in the room where the ropes were stored. With his heart in his mouth, he had waited to hear him stomp across the ship and cursed himself for his hiding place. Instead, another crew member had found him and told him to help with the sail. The next time he had been alone with Sadık, he had merely told him: “You’re lucky no one saw that. You’ll do that in front of the crew or while we’re on land and I’ll leave you standing – or swimming – in that very spot.” Herakles had acknowledged it and written storage lists in silence.

He looked at the book. He had no chest to store it safely and feared that someone else might mistake it for a religious text and begin an argument over it. Not that he looked forward to sharing a crammed space under deck with a hundred other people, twice the amount of rats and an uncountable one of vermin. Loathed as he was to admit it, his best night’s sleep had probably come by him when he fell asleep at the table in the captain’s cabin.

Sadık’s bedroll, with its plush pillows, looked so much more inviting.

“You know, the sleeping quarters on this ship leave much to be desired.”

Sadık had moved to be able to rest his head on Herakles’ shoulder. He snorted and Herakles felt his breath on his skin. “They do so for all people, that is how it is on a ship. No money could buy you a better one, if you had any. That’s what you signed up for in your selfless mission.”

“Indeed.” Herakles’ eyes were fixed onto the bedroll. Aside from a good night’s sleep, which he missed almost as direly as the local cats, he hadn’t laid with a man or woman in months either. Whenever they made anchor somewhere, Herakles was too afraid to be left behind to visit a brothel.

If one put the fact aside that Sadık was Sadık, a loud, entitled, good-for-nothing corsair oaf, Herakles had little reason to object. He had often watched the ottoman officials in his city, who carried themselves with an air of dignity and gravitas, and hoped no one would notice his longing gazes. He often wondered what the beautiful brown eyes of their wives, if they weren’t from Christian nations, betrayed about the rest of their beauty.

Sadık buried his face in his neck. His beard scratched him. Both of his arms were draped around his waist, but he was almost shy about his touches. Herakles said: “But perhaps I could offer another skill, besides being a scribe and a capable young man …”

Sadık halted. Herakles wondered if he could feel how fast his heart was beating.

He dragged his mouth to Herakles’ ear. “I think your skills of being a capable young man will suit you just fine for a nicer sleeping arrangement.”

Herakles could hear his breath, could hear his own, and gasped when Sadık pressed a wet kiss to his neck.

#hwsrarepairweek2022 #Day 6: Pirates and Mermaids #aph #hws #hetalia #aph greece #hws greece #aph turkey #hws turkey #turgre #aph turgre #hws turgre #cw slavery #I know none of you came here for the OCs but you don't know how much it watered my crops to write them talk about their friends #Also happy pride! The boys are bi and the kids are transed!#Omar and Thea are LITERALLY that trans dude/lesbian who commit crimes together post. The Simonides twins in a nutshell.#the pen is mightier than the sword

21 notes · View notes

pinkyqil · 2 months

Text

Begging' On your knees

Summary: mapi had been going out with one of the player's until she randomly just ghosted and broke up with her over text with no explanation whatsoever.

Warning: none and let's not forget everything is fictional !

Basically a mapi x Ingrid x r oc kinda fic,inspired by the song begging on your knees song from victorious.because I recently just restarted it and the song got my attention and i haven't stopped making scenario so here we are with me writing this fic.

You and mapi had been going out together for a while now. especially with you getting called up for the team this season.meaning you both could practice and spend more time together. But recently you've noticed she gotten distant with you but didn't think much of it.

Until she she texted you out of nowhere wanting to break up no explanation or reasoning. You've never felt confused and heartbroken like that before especially when the near end of your season came.

At practice you'd both ignore each other unless you were paired up together for practices game or at matches.

where you'd both need to communicate otherwise no words would be uttered to another. Not until a fellow teammate Lucy had mentioned something.

about new transfers joining in the team . you had no worries cause you've already renewed your contract with the team.

for another two years which was yet to be announced . Nobody really knew about you and mapi. Cause most of the time you and mapi would always flirt and touch each other consensual.

Has spanish people are very affectionate with one another. So no one really thought about it.

but it did go noticed by a few teammates how you both had suddenly stopped interacting that much. Which they planned a get together for the whole team to bound and everything.

sadly you hadn't been able to attend due to your break and you booking a flight to spend time with a few friends from england and to focus more on yourself.

You hadn't been really on social media that much , only on there to post photos dumps of your trip or doing mini tiktoks with friends.

So you don't really know what going on between your teammates back at spain.

but you didn't bear anything in mind and just enjoyed your vacation .

Until that had recently come to an end and it was time for you too get back to spain. You had recently joined back to regular training with the team. it hadn't been a surprise has your renewal was already announced.

You'd already get along with everyone and the new comers getting to know each other and doing small talk. It hadn't been until you'll notice mapi talking to a browned hair girl with light blue eyes .

You've heard that they started talking a while back and recently became official. Angry couldn't even describe what you were feeling, begin able to match the pieces together which was able to explain the distance between you and mapi .and how your relationship went downfall.

It all made sense, you felt hurt betrayed and most definitely used like a recycling bin. If your day couldn't go any worse after crying in the bathroom.

pretending you were okay. Alexia and Irene had planned a get together at a karaoke club bar for all you women.

to get along and know each other and too have fun in general has the team would be having a busy and long week. You couldn't decline the invite.

But had a very tempting idea to get back at mapi. At the karaoke bar everyone was having fun, drinking, dancing and much more. Lucy had spotted you having begin the one to notice the distance between you and mapi

; you've been staring at both of them for a while now said lucy ; you just looked at her and back at them without giving her a reply and just moved up to the stage choosing a song and grabbing the mic.

You had it all

The day you told me, told me you want me

I had it all

But let you fool me, fool me completely

Yeah, I was so stupid

To give you all my attention

'Cause the way you played me' *you said while pointing at mapi *

Exposed your true intentions

And one day

I'll have you begging on your knees for me

Yeah, one day

I'll have you crawling like a centipede

You messed with me' (pointing at yourself)

And messed with her (pointing at Ingrid )

So I'll make sure you get what you deserve

Yeah, one day

You'll be begging on your knees for me

So, watch your back *you get down the stage )

'Cause you don't know when or where I could get you

I've set the trap

And when I'm done, then you'll know what I've been through

So, oh, "Ms. Player"

Do you feel like the man now?

And I bet you're nervous

'Cause this song makes you freak out

And one day

I'll have you begging on your knees for me

Yeah, one day

I'll have you crawling like a centipede

You messed with me

And messed with her ( you said while grabbing Ingrid by her arm and placing it around your shoulder while pointing at her *)

So I'll make sure you get what you deserve

Yeah, one day

You'll be begging on your knees for me

I know I'm being bitter

But I'mma drag you under

'Cause you just don't, don't deserve happy ever after

For what you did to me

After you told me you'd never felt that way

It was only just a game

And one day

I'll have you begging on your knees for me (begging on your knees for me)

Yeah, one day

I'll have you crawling like a centipede (crawling like a centipede)

You messed with me

And messed with her

So I'll make sure you get what you deserve

You'll be begging on your knees for me

You finished by setting the mic down and ; yelling I'll fucking get you back léon;

joining the rest of the girls by dancing and continuing your night drinking and having fun.

While mapi had the look of shock trying to process everything or to get words out of her mouth.

Her friend group around her just gave out a look of disappointment while most of them just laughed at the look of horror she has on her face.

A/n : finally wrote something after not writing for a few months now 😀 I'm happy with how this turned out a lil bit , if you have any ideas for a p2 feel free to share it also wrote this in one sitting so they might be mistakes and of course I'm always happy to get feedbacks .

213 notes · View notes

queenie-the-court-jester · 9 days

Text

A devil in disguise

Yandere fantasy ocs x gn reader

They're not really yandere in this fic, I'm saving that for later

Tw: none that I can think of, not proofread 🌺

⭐you were just an ordinary villager. Living in a cottage you Inherited, making a living by owning a bakery in the nearby village. You didn't think there was anything appealing about you. Nothing making you stand out. Well, the villagers thought differently. It was mainly filled with different mythical races, making you the only human.

⭐one day you were setting up shop like always, a suitor or two trying to get your attention when suddenly screams could be heard from outside. Rushing to see what was the commotion, a young.. girl? Man? Was fighting off a horde of wild goblins. Littering the ground with their little bodies. They fought valiantly, slashing one after the other.

⭐in the end they came out victorious, but heavily injured. You herded the other villagers away, a bar maiden helping you pick up the adventurer and taking them to your little bakery. She set them down and quickly left as you looked for your first aid, carefully cleaning up the blood and grime off their face.

⭐you did end up requiring to remove their clothing to better patch them up, sincerely hoping they wouldn't feel uncomfortable once they woke up. You stayed overnight in the bakery since your cottage was pretty far and you didn't want to leave the newcomer alone. The sound of fabric rustling woke you up.

⭐ lifting your gaze upwards, you were met with big green eyes staring into your own, faces inches apart. Their blonde hair was messy and a strand draped across their face. They reached a hand out, and booped your nose before pulling away. Intently observing the room.

"uhm.. thank you for fighting off those feral goblins. What is your name, sir or ma'am..?"

"Gideon. What is your name, lovely lady?"

"y/n. It's a pleasure to meet you"

⭐Gideon thanked you repeatedly and offered to help you out for a bit. You agreed, and with the time they spent with you,you learned they were a he. They didn't mind any pronouns, just that they were born amab.

"you see. I was on my way here to wait for my friends when I noticed those nasty green bastards hiding in the bushes. I couldn't just let those vermin attack such a lovely village."

"you're very brave Gideon.. I wish I knew how to swing a sword"

"I can teach you, if you'd like my dear"

⭐ Gideon shows you the basics of wielding a sword, he offered to show you how to hunt game aswell. The first hunt came out.. interesting. He'll have to make you exercise with him daily from now on.

⭐2 weeks have passed now, Gideon was helping you bring groceries into your cottage when you heard a loud yelling coming from not too far away

"GIDEON!? IS THAT YOU?"

⭐ turning around, you spot a girl who seems to be your age standing a few feet away. She seemed tired yet so elated. Gideon set down the basket carrying the vegetables and quickly rushed over to her

"darling! Oh there you are! Where are the others? Are you alright? You're not hurt are you?"

⭐the girl waved off his worrying, about to say something when suddenly she turned her attention to you

"Wow.. well hello there gorgeous~"

⭐the girl walked up to you, wiggling her eyebrows and tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. You could only stare at her and laugh in mild amusement. After Gideon thoroughly disciplined her on why she shouldn't flirt with people she doesn't know, you learned that their entire party were on their way to recollect him.

⭐so now you had 2 roommates. It was pretty fun, they helped with chores and kept you company. Darling seemed to really like your bakery, helping every chance she could. They enjoyed being with you, you were so much fun! They knew they'd have to leave as soon as the others came, so One night, the two waited for you to go to sleep. Talking outside near a pond, a bit far away from the cottage

"I don't know Gideon.. they're not exactly built for adventuring with us.."

"yes.. but you weren't built for this life either. We trained you. And we can do the same for our little y/n. They already knows the basics, We'll just need to convince them before the others arrive"

⭐and that's what they did. For the next three days, they kept pestering you to join their party. So don't worry, they'll train you. Aren't you tired of this boring life? Don't you wanna explore? Just find someone to run your bakery for you until you come back!

⭐and that's how you ended up here. Catching a ride on ogmund, the party's barbarian tank. You were happily chatting away, braiding his hair while you were at it. He told you all about his tribe, orc traditions, his past adventures. You nodded along, adding input every now and then

⭐darling was walking alongside you both, chewing on something, you don't know what, and holding ogmund's hand. The orc seemed use to the girls touchy nature. Darling was the party's druid. Specializing in healing and natural magic. Her little ears would twitch, with the occasional flick of her tail. Panther hybrids were so cute.

⭐Gideon was the party's paladin, you remembered they told you about their reasoning for choosing this life. As a boy his family was slaughtered, leaving only him and his younger sibling rougé Alive. Their mothers were brothel workers while their father was the owner. Don't ask them about their family.

⭐rougé was the party's bard. They were a half elf, like their brother and very flirty and touchy with whoever they deemed as a fun pick. Darling seemed to be their main target since she gets easily flustered. You had the sneaking suspicion they often slept together with how their physical affections towards her seemed too intimate. The only reason they didn't come after you so often was because they didn't ogmund to snap their spine in half

⭐mikal was the party's sorcerer. A stubborn little prick, proud and haughty. Just give him a good thwack on the head and he'll shut up. Once, you you were playing with his hair and he stood rigid the entire time. Simply nodding when you'd compliment his beautiful silver locks. It contrasted well with his near black skin. Who knew dark elves were so sexy? (Fucking everyone)

⭐venus was the party's cleric, and boy, darling had massive beef with him. For what reason? You don't know, they just really fucking hated eachother. Venus, out of everyone, was the most reserved. It'll take you a whole to tear down his walls but you'll get there eventually.

⭐from what the party told you, you were on your way to save a couple friends. You were practically buzzing with excitement, your first real adventure! Maybe you'd find a fighting class that suits you best while you're at it.

⭐ blissfully unaware of the pair of eyes staring at you from stop the trees..

161 notes · View notes

readychilledwine · 8 months

Text

Broken

Rhysand x Winter Court OC

A/N- Happy day 3 of my Here's to 100 week! I wanted to give angst a try a few weeks ago, and I am kind of proud, kind of not proud of this piece. I think this is something that could become more, and I've left it open to more, but I don't really know if I want this OC to have a happy ending, or a tragic one. If I add to it, it might be a roll of the dice thing to decide.

Summary - Rhysand is finally home from the Mountain, but he's home with news that shatters Aelia, his wife's world, from under her feet.

Warnings - alludes to a panic attack kind of angsty.

Part Two Part Three

✨️✨️✨️✨️✨️✨️✨️✨️✨️✨️✨️✨️

This wasn't a conversation Rhysand wanted to have with Aelia. "It's not your fault," she whispered softly. "It's just the hand you were dealt. I get it." She stood and began to move to walk out of the room. She needed to leave the room. Panic had set into her chest, tears were beginning to form in her eyes.

"Aelia," he strained out. "Please."

His heart was breaking as she dropped her hand from the door and looked up. He watched her hand run through her hair again. The snow blonde curls were a mess from her hands constantly running through it and pulling at it. He wanted nothing more than to brush it, to bring her to his bed, and to play with it. "Rhys, I need time. You need time."

"You're my wife. The mother of my child." His voice held a tone of desperation.

"And she's your mate? I can't win here Rhys." Rhysand stood. Caging her body between him and the doorway. His head rested on her shoulder. "I need to go, Rhys. I can't watch this."

"Please don't leave me." Her eyes squeezed shut as tears began to openly fall. He was breaking behind her, and she was shattering before him. Hundreds of years of love, of laughter, of joy. Hundreds of years, just gone.

"What am I supposed to do, Rhysand? Sit here and warm your bed until she realizes Tamlin isn't the one? I need to start looking for somewhere for Nyx and I to go."

"Your place is here. Our son's place is here. I don't want her, Aelia." His voice cracked as he began to sob. "I've only ever wanted you. I love you. I'm in love with you."

Aelia wanted to believe it. She wanted to believe none of this mattered. That the female he was bound to didn't matter. She knew it did, though. She knew this changes everything between them. "You found your mate, Rhys. That's going to change."

His eyes were squeezed shut as he forced her into his chest. "No, it won't. I'll reject the bond." She shook her head softly. Azriel would murder her if she asked this of Rhysand. Azriel had dreamed of finding his mate. He had begged them to think getting married through, but they impulsively had. And Rhys had sworn her in as High Lady. And now they had a son together. A son who was 60 and would understand exactly what all of this meant.

"I can't ask you to do that, Rhysand."

"You aren't asking me to. I am telling you I'm going to." He forced her to turn in his arms, pulling her tight to his chest and holding her. "Just give me time, snowflake, please." She nodded. The smallest smile broke onto Rhysand's face, not reaching his eyes, as he kissed her roughly.

(1 Month later)

Cassian watched in silence as Nyx packed his things. His high lady was not dumb, but the choice she was making was stupid. And her son was blindly following right behind her. "This isn't necessary," Azriel said softly to their nephew. "Talk to him first."

"What is there to talk about," Nyx turned to Azriel. "How about the fact that he fucked someone besides mom for past 50 years. Or the fact that the first thing he says to mom isn't something caring or loving. It's "I found my mate." Azriel and Cassian shared a look as Nyx threw a few weapons into his bag.

"We've given him a month and now he's in Spring. With his mate. Instead of here with mom and me. Do you know how much I've actually seen my so-called father since he came home?" Nyx looked at Azriel, a raven brow raised. They all knew the answer to that question.

Rhys had not made time for his son, nor his wife. When his own dreams weren't turning every waking moment of his reality into a nightmare, Feyre's were destroying him slowly from the inside. The moments Rhys spent with Aelia were spent loudly arguing. They were spent with the couple in tears as their relationship finally had to face 50 years of strain and hardship.

Nyx threw the shirt he was holding into his suitcase. His anger and sadness were radiating from him. "We're leaving. It's what's best for mom, for me, and probably for Rhysand." They knew better than to argue with the young male. The love Nyx had for his mother had always, and would always trump everything. Including his loyalty to his court, to the warbands, to his uncles.

"You are the heir to the Night Court," Azriel said slowly. "He isn't going to let either of you go without a fight."

Nyx shook his head. "I don't give a fuck what I am to him. Carthanian, heir, illyrian soldier. I am my mother's son first." Aelia came back down the stairs with the bag she had been packing. She had been crying, but she forced a smile for her son. She had been forcing a strong outward appearance for the court and Inner Circle for the past month. She held her hand out to Nyx as he picked up his bag.

"Are you sure, Nyxie?" They knew she gave him the choice. She had told Nyx he was welcome to stay. That she wouldn't hold it against him, but her son had picked her. He nodded to her, grabbing her hand in his and walking with her. Azriel knew where they were going, and Aelia knew her brother in law would know. She also knew he would not tell Rhysand until he knew if her heart was safe in his hands again.

Azriel followed them to the door, his hand on her back as he whispered softly in her ear that he would be trailing them until he knew they were safe, that he would be checking in, that he loves them. Azriel watched as they winnowed with one last look shared between him and Aelia.

"He's going to lose his fucking mind," Cassian whispered. Azriel nodded to him slowly. "Does she know he's in Spring rejecting the bond right now?"

"No. All Mor told her is that he went to Spring."

Rhysand came home, hours later, to an empty house. The faelights were dim and the scent of his wife and son was fading as if they had not been here recently.

"Aelia! Nyx!" He walked around the Riverhouse. Checking every room for them. Each door opened felt like a nail pounding into a coffin as he found empty room after empty room. He stopped as soon as he hit his wife's office. Hands shaking and silently praying to anyone who'd listen she would be inside. He opened the door and felt hope leave him.

An envelope with his name sat neatly on her desk, and Azriel and Cassian were in the room. The two refused to look at him as Azriel handed Rhysand the letter.

Rhysand,

By time you're reading this, Nyx and I will have left. Mor let me know that you were going to Spring. That you were planning to see your mate. I do not want to stand in the way of your happiness.

I know we always promised each other joy and peace. We just had hoped it would never come to us not being the source of those things for each other. You have brought me more joy and happiness in the past 300 years than I deserved to know, Rhysand. It is only fair I give you the same chance to find that.

Please know I gave Nyx the choice to stay. I let him know I love him either way, that you love him either way. Ultimately, we would both want him to be where he felt happiest. He made the choice to come with me. He said he may come back at some point, but his anger at this situation is… strong at the moment. I'll continue to try to talk to him and try to get him to come at least to the Moonstone Palace once a week to meet with you. Please try to understand things from his side. He's young. He's impulsive. He's hurting. This isn't what he had in mind, nor what he ever pictured, all those years he'd dream and talk about "when daddy came home." He loves you, Rhys. He's just lost right now. We all are.

I love you, Rhysand. I hope you find the bliss you need and deserve.

Forever yours,

Aelia

Rhysand read the note over and over. "Where did she go," he growled. "Why did Mor not tell her why I was in Spring."

"We don't know," Cassian said. "We haven't seen Mor since she told Aelia."

"Where is she, Azriel?" The shadowsinger looked at his brother, taking a sip of the whiskey he had poured himself. "Az, where are my wife and son?"

Azriel shook his head. "They need time, Rhys. You also need time. You need to heal. To regain a grip on yourself and your surroundings. You rejected your mate, Rhys. For her and Nyx's safety, I need to keep you away from her."

Rhys felt his hands shaking, tears beginning to fall. He felt his world crashing down around him. "I didn't even have to reject the bond. I spoke with Feyre about it and she did it. She flat out asked me why I'd be dumb enough to believe she'd leave the male she gave her life for just because of the Cauldron." Rhys chuckled bitterly. "And now my wife and son are gone." They watched as Rhysand sat down in a chair, staring out the window.

Azriel knew this was a guilt trip. He nodded, playing with Aelia's favorite pen. "I will not tell you where they are. You will not guilt me into it, and if you command me to, Rhysand, I will never forgive you." Azriel stood and walked to the window. "I promise you she is safe. I have a shadow trailing both of them."

Rhysand scoffed lightly, refusing to look his way. "It is good to know where your loyalty truly lies, Azriel. Get out, both of you. I want to be alone."

Cassian looked at Az, then Rhys. Azriel was taking the insult. He did not argue. He did not bite back. He was refusing to give Rhysand the fight the male clearly thought he needed. "Rhys, she-"

"Get. Out." The faelights flickered with Rhysand's anger, tendrils of darkness and mist flaring around him. "I'll find her myself. Since my spymaster is incapable of giving me the High Lady's location." Another insult Rhysand knew deep down his brother did not deserve.

He waited until the door shut, until two sets of footsteps and muffled voices faded. Once Rhys knew he was truly alone, he felt the first broken sob fully tear through his throat. He allowed himself this moment to fall apart, to break into one thousand tiny pieces as his heart fell from his chest. He allowed his breathing to become uneven, rushed. He allowed that feeling of nothing, yet everything all at once to hit him. That feeling of never being enough, of being too much.

Cassian found him the next morning asleep on the floor to Aelia's office. "Rhys," he gently touched his shoulder. "Rhys, I have a letter from Nyx. It's for you. I need you to get up." Cassian needed to know the contents of the letter as much as Rhysand would. He shook his brother again, slightly smiling as he stirred.

"Go away, Cassian." Rhysand's voice was like gravel, his eyes still slightly red and swollen. "Why the fuck are you here?"

Cassian held the letter up. "I need you to open this so we both maybe get answers. He won't tell me anything either, Rhys. He says once he knows she's safe from your emotional spiral, he will go get them. So, get yourself up and get your shit together."

Rhysand stared at the letter. At the gently practiced scroll of his son's handwriting. He took the envelope immediately, standing to walk to Aelia's desk, and taking out her letter opener. He read the letter once, then a second time to be sure, and third just in case before handing it to Cassian.

The general read it slowly, processing each delicate curve of his nephew's lettering. "So, they're in Winter?" Rhysand nodded, his jaw tight. "Doesn't Kal believe you-"

"Yes." Cassian paused, knowing why she would have picked there, and knowing Aelia had longed to go home for a while now. "I'm banned from his court as of yesterday morning."

Cassian whispered softly in response. "Nyx is asking you not to come anyways, Rhys. He's asking you to give him and Lia space and time."

Rhysand nodded. "I can read, Cassian. Thank you."

"Then let her go." The high lord shot him a look of shock. Of betrayal. "Let her go and let her come back on her own terms, Rhys. Show her you love her by respecting her wishes. We both know she is going to come back. Remind me of how deeply she told you she loved you?"

"Deeper than the ocean of Summer, stronger than the vines of Spring, with more passion than an Autumn fire."

"And with the purity of a fresh Winter snow." Cassian finished softly. "She'll come home, Rhys."

Rhysand broke down again, and Cassian rushed to him, pulling his brother into a tight hug. "That's so much easier said than done."

"I know."

"I love her." Rhysand sobbed heavily. "Cassian, I love her. I never once thought about leaving her when the bond snapped. She carried my son. She risked her life to give me a baby. She risked her life so I could live my dream of being a father and now its all falling to shit, Cassian."

"I know."

Rhysand openly cried now. Hand forming fists in the back of Cassian's shirt. "I just want them. I love him. I love her." He repeated again.

"I know, Rhys. I know."

#acotar #acotar x reader #rhys x reader #rhysand x reader #rhys acotar #rhys fic #readychilledwine's heresto100 celebration

608 notes · View notes

yoon-kooks · 1 year

Text

paw prints & presents | jjk

⛓️pairing: hotnerd!jungkook x popular!reader

⛓️genre: smut, fluff, college!au

⛓️summary: You and Jungkook never discussed Valentine’s Day plans, but that doesn’t mean the night won’t include corny Valentine’s cards and you getting down on your hands and knees in pretty pink lingerie for him.

⛓️word count: 2.1k

⛓️warnings: catdilf!jk, dom!jk, sub!reader, daddy/kitten undertones, praise kink, dirty talk, oc is a horny lil brat, dry humping, sex on the couch, handjob, blowjob, face fucking, cumshot, she swallows, oc makes another ignorant comment about earl grey tea lol

⛓️p&p masterlist⛓️

a/n: here's a lil smutty drabble i wrote up for valentine's day! (you don't have to read the other p&p fics before reading this one)💖

You’ve been acting a little weird lately. Ever since February came around, you’ve been asking Jungkook about random shit like his favorite flower (lavender), his favorite romcom (none), his favorite day of the year (nonexistent), and his go-to boba order (you called him grandaddy for saying earl grey again). The most recent question was about his taste in lingerie (doesn’t matter because you’re hot regardless).

But whenever he asks why you need to know these things, you just shrug your shoulders and pretend like you’re too busy playing with the cat to answer him. The way you always shush the kitten as soon as he enters the room leads him to believe the two of you are up to no good.

It’s driving him mad.

At one point, he thought you might be sweetening him up for when you go behind his back and adopt another cat because “Lucy needs a friend” and “there’s a cute cow cat at the local shelter.” But something tells him you’ll save the cow cat shenanigans for another time.

The thing is, he’s not completely clueless here. As much as he doesn’t want to think about it, he’s well aware that Valentine’s Day is around the corner. It’s not a day he typically celebrates, but he also doesn’t know how you feel about it yet. If it’s a big deal to you, he’d want to do something thoughtful to live up to whatever the fuck you’re secretly plotting. At the same time, the two of you still haven’t made it official, so perhaps you aren’t scheming anything related to the most romantic day of the year. Perhaps he’s just overthinking it…

…Or not.

A few days before Valentine’s Day, Jungkook comes home from class early and sees something he shouldn’t have seen. Your laptop is out in the open on his bed, but you’re nowhere to be seen—probably in the bathroom or something. He’s always been the kind of guy to respectfully look away from what’s on other people’s computers or phone screens. But it’s kind of hard to ignore the pink lingerie set you apparently just ordered. The lingerie you normally wear is a sexy black or a sophisticated neutral. But this baby pink one, with the tiny red hearts and bows, is way cuter than what he’s used to seeing you in. It’s giving submissive vibes, for sure.

The thought of you wearing that tiny thing on Valentine’s Day would automatically make February 14th Jeon Jungkook’s new favorite day of the year. And that alone is something to celebrate.

But how exactly is he supposed to celebrate? It seems you have your mind made up on surprising him with pretty pink lingerie, but what can he provide in return without being too cheesy? He’s terrible at shit like this. In fact, one of his exes broke up with him specifically because he wasn’t romantic enough. She wasn’t wrong, but it’s not like he’s going to rewire his entire brain to be romantic enough for someone else’s liking. Maybe that’s fucked up of him. Maybe a good partner would make sacrifices and force themself to change for the sake of the relationship if they truly cared.

You’re different, though. With you, nothing feels forced. Rather, he gets an urge to do something nice for you, even if it goes against his natural tendencies. And right now, he wants to also surprise you with a little something on Valentine’s Day.

On the big day, he waits for you to leave for your afternoon class. That’ll give him plenty of time to put together the surprise. All he needs is some pink cardstock, markers, paint, ribbon, and a kitten.

As much as he hates cheesy Valentine’s cards, Jungkook finds himself pondering over what to write on the cardstock. Knowing you, it’s safe to go with something silly and funny. Thankfully, you’re an easy one when it comes to humor.

“Have a paw-esome Valentine’s Day, Mommy,” he writes in bold marker. You’ve been hesitant to call yourself the kitten’s mother despite raising her right alongside Jungkook. But it’s clear that you’re doing a good job. “Love, Lucy.”

He picks up the sleepy kitten, dips her paw pads into safe non-toxic paint, and adds her paw print to the bottom of the card like a signature. As the paint dries, he gives the kitty her first bath, blowdries her fur, and ties a pink little ribbon to her collar.

When the sun goes down, Jungkook rolls up the note and attaches it to the kitty’s ribbon like she’s some messenger pigeon. And then the two of them wait on the couch together, kitten loafing in the boy’s lap, for the door to open.

Five long minutes later, your keys jingle around as you unlock the front door.

“Go hide,” he whispers to the kitten who runs off into his room with a frisky tail in the air. She probably thinks he’s playing hide and seek with her like they normally do. Poor thing.

Jungkook makes himself comfortable on the couch again and pulls out his phone to look natural. Totally normal.

“Hi?” you say as soon as you open the door and see him sitting in the dark living room, his floating face illuminated by his phone screen. You hit the light switch as you kick your shoes off and look around for possible booby traps or jumpscares. It seems you’re very aware that the potential for a surprise is at an all-time high today. Then your eyes fall back on him. “Why do you look like that?”

“Like what?” He scratches the back of his head.

“Like this.” You do the awkward pose thing people do when they’re very clearly failing to act natural. How do you manage to make even the most awkward poses look cute? Maybe your little black dress has something to do with it. You weren’t wearing that earlier when you left for class.

“What do you mean? I’m just here, sitting on the couch with my phone.” Damn, is it really that obvious?

“Ah, so you were here waiting for me to get back from class like a dog?” you tease as you climb into his lap and set his phone aside. Your new perfume is a sensual lavender (no wonder you asked him about his favorite flower). And your dress is so short all he can feel is skin when he grabs hold of your ass. “Don’t worry, I missed you too.”

You snake your hands around the back of his neck and devour his lips, his tongue, his taste. He’ll never get over the moans you make just from kissing him like he’s the finest dessert you’ve ever tasted. Or the way your tongue just laps him up like a kitten—

“Wait,” he says after forcing himself to pull back from your lips. The urge to put his lips right back where they belong is incredible.

“No, Jungkook, I don’t have any homework that needs to get done before we…” Your words trail off as you kiss him some more and roll your hips against his crotch. You’ll never let it go that he’s “the biggest nerd in the world” for always making you finish your homework before sex. Thank god you don’t have any tonight. Because his hard cock is already past the point of no return.

The secret Valentine’s card still needs to be delivered, though. And the poor kitten is still waiting for her daddy to come find her.

“No seriously, wait a sec,” he chuckles, lifting you off of him before walking into his room to scoop up the kitten hiding behind the clothes hanging in his closet. When he rejoins you on the couch, he passes the fluffball to you.

“Ooh, did daddy give you a bath? You look so cute,” You sniff her orange fur and find the rolled-up note tied to her pink ribbon.

Your face quickly goes from curious to smiley as you unroll the note and read the silly message. Jungkook reads it right alongside you as if he wasn’t the one who wrote it.

“Congratulations, it seems Lucy has accepted you as her mother figure,” he says in the straightest face ever.

“Paw-esome?? Mommy??” you giggle, turning to the boy whilst cupping his chin. “Is that what you think of me?”

“It wasn’t me, it was Lucy,” he shrugs. “Right, Lucy?” She meows in agreement.

Then he pins you down against the couch cushions and leans in to whisper, “You’re my baby girl, remember?”

Your face is flushed with color as you nod up at him. You grab a handful of his t-shirt and pull him in. He finds your neck and leaves a trail of little marks as your body heats up beneath him.

“I love the card, by the way,” you manage to get out between breaths. “Thank you, Jungkook.”

“Like I said, it wasn’t from me.” His gives you a few more kisses while running his hands along your dress. As hot as you are in that dress, he’d love to get his hands on everything hiding beneath it. “I didn’t even know today was Valentine’s Day.”

“Liar. You suck, you know that.” You pout for half a second before your horny eyes are showing again. “Guess you don’t want to see the surprise I have for you.”

“What is it?” he asks a little too quickly. He must sound like such a simp.

You sit up, leaning your tits against his chest, and say, “Undress me.”

Jungkook lifts the dress up and over your head to reveal the same lingerie set he saw on your computer screen the other day. Except now it’s on your body. And boy does it look good on you. It doesn’t matter that he already had a sneak peek at it and plenty of time to mentally prepare himself for this. He still can’t take his eyes off of his baby girl looking all pretty in pink. And he forgets to speak.

“What do you think?” You drop to your knees on the carpet and situate yourself between his legs.

“Hot,” is all he can say before you unzip him and get your hands on his hard cock.

“Good.” You wet your lips with a sly tongue. Your hands start stroking his length up and down as you eye his tip. “It was an impulse buy the other day when I was feeling so horny for your cock.”

“Do you need my cock that badly?” he asks, his breath getting rougher.

You nod, licking your lips again. He’d normally make you wait a little longer before letting you give head, but fuck it. It’s Valentine’s Day, and his cock is his gift to you. You’re always begging to suck it anyway.

With a firm hand, he angles your chin up until his erection is staring you in the face. You wrap your lips around him and take him in until he hits the back of your throat. Your cute little gag doesn’t stop you from going right back in, bobbing your head back and forth, up and down his length. He decides to help by thrusting in and out of your throat.

When you stop to catch your breath, his glaze runs down your mouth. You make sure he’s watching when you lick it up and swallow before sucking him more. One of your hands grips his cock while the other travels down into your thong. He watches the way you rub between your legs and rock your body back and forth to pleasure yourself and him at the same time.

You savor each and every drop of him as if it’s the last. Your lips glisten and swell with pleasure as you’re hard at work with his cock. There’s no way anyone else can look this good while doing what you do to him.

“Fuck,” Jungkook groans, fucking your face faster. You moan something that sounds like his name, although it’s kind of hard to understand with a fat cock in your mouth.

At his breaking point, he pulls out and strokes his length until (most of) his cum sprays right into your mouth. You swallow it up while shooting him an awfully innocent smile. After catching his breath, he wipes up the bit of lust on your cheek and lets you suck it off his fingers. You’re such a good girl for him.

“You were so good, baby,” he praises you. You definitely need to be rewarded. “Should we watch one of those romcoms?”

“I thought you said you didn’t like romcoms.” You tilt your head. “We can find something else that we can watch togeth—”

“Pick your favorite romcom.” He shakes your suggestion off and lays you down on the couch so that you’re facing the TV. He hooks a finger on the strap of your thong and tears it off. With his lips just a kiss away from your wet pussy, he says, “I won’t be watching anyway.”

#bts smut #jungkook smut #bts scenarios #bts imagines #bts fanfic #jungkook fanfic #jungkook x reader #bts x reader #bts fluff #bts college au #nerd jungkook

2K notes · View notes

desceros · 3 months

Text

me: [looks at calendar, gets a wicked idea, looks into the camera] happy springtime, turtle fam! who's ready to celebrate the season?

...mating season, that is. hehe. [dodges the tomatoes]

so! i had the idea that it would be super fun to have a community-wide event where we all have a prompt and then everyone fills it in their own way.

...i then decided all the prompts i came up with were too good not to use, but also none of them were Good Enough to use exclusively, so i changed my mind and the prompt is now just MATING SEASON. with a few suggestions at the bottom of this post if you're looking for some.

since spring is coming upon us, i hereby invite everyone to join in the vernal festivities... which in turtle parlance, of course, means only one thing: write, draw, whatever your version of "mating season", then join me on march 1 to post it with the tag #TMNTSpringShellebration. we then shall browse the fine selection of our mutual artistic efforts, and basically just have a good time as a community.

here are the prompts i came up with as starters-slash-things-to-include if you're looking for a place to get started. feel free to use these at will, or use them to come up with something of your own:

“Please don’t make me explain this. It’s humiliating as is.”

Oops, Looks Like Mating Season Came A Week Early This Year

“…In all of my mating seasons, this has never happened before.”

“I told you not to come by! It’s mating season!”

Probably should have expected it to be different now that he’s not going through it alone.

Because of Shenanigans, you have to wait. Wait… Wait… ok now.

They’re not the right person for mating season… but they’re the one who’s here, so…

“Show me where it hurts."

so yeah! see you all on march 1 for the, uh, spring shellebration. party popper emoji

questions i imagine will be popping up and i hope will clear up here before my askbox swells beyond capacity under the cut to keep this post from being Way Too Long. also it's really not that serious it's just an excuse to write slash draw for everyone Please Don't Take This Thing Too Seriously It's Not That Serious:

"can i participate?" yes! it's literally just an invitation to do something. nothing fancier than that. no need to be following me or in my friend group or whatever.

"can i write (insert fic idea here)?" yep! so long as it's related to the idea of mating seasons, it flies. reader insert? hell yea. oc? hell yeah. solo turtle and his favorite pillow? go for it.

"can i draw (insert art idea here)?" yep! uh. i know tumblr has the cops watching for sin bin material, but you art people know how to deal with that. and if you don't, uh, ask the other art people. im just a feral cat in a trench coat

"how do i participate?" write/draw/collect songs for/whatever. then, on march 1, post it and tag it #TMNTSpringShellebration. also, for funsies, keep it hush hush what you're working on so we can all be super shocked when the day comes! except, y'know, that you're planning on joining in. totally do that.

"when do i post it?" march 1. whenever on that day. waves hands around in a vague gesture at time zones not mattering. seriously don't take this so seriously it's just me wanting to create cool shit with my friends with a little more structure to it

"does it have to be horny?" i mean. it's an event about mating season. so by definition it's going to be at least a little horny. but however you interpret it is cool. even if it's just. idk. leo sitting sweatily in a chair looking longingly at a glass of water bc he's thirstier than usual. be smart about things, people. i'm not your dad.

"which tmnt verse is this for?" whichever one you want it to be for!! rise! bayverse! 2007! your fan iteration! your friend's fan iteration! your mortal enemy's fan iteration! yes!

"will you be reblogging everything?" absolutely not, but this isn't an event About Me. i am incidental to the thing. it's about Us. coming together as a community. for horny turtles. puts my hands on your shoulders. do it for you. for your friends. for the community.

#text tag #feel free to reblog this around. it started out as a thing for turtle fam but we all agreed that it would be fun for The Community #anyway yeehaw let's spend all of february thinking about what to do and then the night of feb 29 doing it RAH #tmntspringshellebration

163 notes · View notes

thesamoanqueen · 5 months

Text

Unholy

Raiting: 18+

Warnings: smut, angst, mental disorders, a bit of Stockholm syndrome.

A/N: It was born by chance, starting from a dirty prompt, passing through the hypercritical mental disorders of an OC who I don't know if will have another ff, with a healthy dose of angst, sins, smut for @alyyaanna and @harmshake

She heard a car and then another. It had become the routine since her dad had made those deals in the big city and his factory had started to finance the county election campaign. None of his business partners ever stopped by at their house, there were few voters there, but they were there. They were always there, day and night, on working days and on holidays, "to support him" dad said, Y/N knew why instead. They kept a close eye on him, they trusted no one, even her, that's why even when her dad wasn't around there was always one of them.

The car had arrived, the other had left, but she still hadn't heard from anyone. Must have been the youngest, he never spoke and when he did it, was almost worse. He made her anxious like almost everything, but if she knew he was there maybe she could do it, at least he was not… him.

Just thinking about him made her shake her head, trying to physically push away memories that were already making her eyes and something else sting. She didn't have to think about him. She left the clothes she was taking care of, hoping to see the now familiar blonde locks circling their property, but nothing. Maybe he was already inside.

- There’s something wrong? – a hoarse voice inquired from behind her and Y/N clung to the window with a yelp, throat suddenly dry and heart racing.

Why he was there? He came by a few times a month and it hadn't happened in a while, he had bigger issues than her dad, more powerful people to deal with directly in the big city and usually he never came without a specific reason, they usually warned when he was coming. Everything had to be perfect for him, in order, ready, just knowing he would be there made the air electric, heavy and when his big expensive suv finally took up the entire driveway, Y/N still crumbled asking herself if everything had been done.

- N-no, I heard the door... I wanted to know who was... - she spluttered quickly, with a faint voice, gaze unable to stay fixed on him, hands passing from the edge of the window to her horrible dress.

Her anxiety was already punching her and she felt like floor beneath her was shaking, trying to swallow her up and rip the air from her lungs. It wasn't going well, there was nothing ready for his arrival, house was a disaster, she had no idea what dad had done that time to make him come, what she had to be sorry for and now Roman was there, in front of her, who hadn't even had time to make herself presentable, decent.

- Were you expecting someone else – was that a question? An insinuation? A complaint, a reproach? She didn't know it, but she moved her head, saying no almost to the point of hurting herself, eyes still lowered.

-No, no, I didn't know you were coming...- she tried to explain, feeling overwhelmed by his presence, by the anxiety of having that brown eyes on her once again.

He always looked at her as if he knew where to dig, where to press to bring Y/N to her knees and shatter. Roman stared everyone with arrogance, pity at times, everything about him suggested that he didn't breathe the same air as anyone else, his attitude, his aura, the way he spoke, those eyes, those two brown pools, Y/N didn't know how it was possible but they were capable of such pressure that they could bend anyone and she had never been a strong person. With him less than with anyone else.

- I'm here sweetheart – he urged her, words like velvet as he advanced, blocking her where she was, without mercy.

She saw his shoes, yet another pair she had never seen, entering her vision and one of his fingers lift her chin, with an impossible delicacy for a man of that size, pushing her to raise it, high, so high, to look him straight in the face. The smell of him, that dark tattoo that stood out on his arm, dark beard, dark shirt painted on his huge shoulders, everything about him gave her shivers, shivers that she shouldn't have felt, that brought tears to her eyes and broke her breath.

From the height that separated them Roman stared at her for a long moment, stroking her full cheek with his thumb without speaking, forcing her to acknowledge his presence, that no one could run away from him, not even for an moment, not even to take a breath and try to keep emotions at bay. Y/N already knew it, she had tried to do it, staying away from her dad's business, barricading herself behind that silence, in household chores, among people even if she couldn't stand being in company, never as with him had she prayed to being able to disappear and not be found. And every single time Roman had trampled on her clumsy, desperate attempts, planting those eyes on her, holding her where he wanted, picking up piece after piece to shatter Y/N again as he wanted.

- Someone told me that you are spending a lot of time outside, you go to church almost every day. Your father is convinced it will help with elections... I wonder if it's not for another reason – he said, examining every inch of her face, giving her the attention she always tried to hide from.

It almost seemed like he was thinking out loud, like it was a thought like any other, but something inside her immediately clicked, like a switch being flipped.

- I would never do that! No! – she swore, finding strength to deny that allusion with chest threatening to explode and hands clinging to the window.

Roman moved his eyes on hers, staring again, dangerous, menacing.

- … I would never talk about family business with anyone…- she promised again, trying to have a firmer voice, to prove him that she wasn't that kind of woman and failing anyway.

She knew limits, she didn't go around chatting with anyone and she would never do it even if someone asked her to. Not about those business, not about what her dad did with Roman and his family. Never. She would never have done that. He had to believe her, she couldn't bear the idea that he didn't think she was loyal to… him.

- What about me? Did you tell the pastor about me?

That question caught her off guard, like a shot fired at an unaware animal. With no mercy.

He was talking about business… he had come because he didn't want problems… he wasn't there for her, right?

She gasped for any sign in his expression, praying to find it, to avoid that conversation, but nothing and a pang gripped her chest, hands trembling, face burning. She tried to move her eyes somewhere else uncomfortably, pressing herself against the window, while her mind brought those moments back to the surface. They had been the most beautiful moments she had ever had, the most beautiful she would ever have, but just thinking about them filled her eyes with tears. It had been too much, it was still too much, she couldn't handle the pressure, everyone said it, she wasn't able to bear emotions and Roman was too much for anyone, she was hopeless. Like wax in his hands, Y/N felt him lift her round face again, grip firm on her, gaze still locked.

- I asked you a question. I pretend answers when I ask you something – his voice was always so firm, imperative, dominant.

- I d-didn't… never… I-

- Though you was a good girl… taking care of your family, your dumb-ass father, accepting us in your house, but they said a good girl doesn't do those things and you did'em with me. More than once – he was pushing her over the edge, even though he knew what she had inside, he saw it, but he wouldn't stop, he didn't stop and Y/N knew she should have at least tried to run away and instead there she was.

She couldn't run away, she wasn't able to with him. His presence, Roman, was stronger than her anxiety problems and fears, stronger than any block common sense and her hypercritical mind had ever imposed. It was a pointless fight and Y/N had already fallen months ago when he had invaded her space for the first time and taken everything. Over and over again, yes. Everywhere, whenever, not caring who was around or not, breaking down any limits and inhibitions she had and then leaving her to pick up pieces with a caress and his own smell on her.

In those moments the walls she had built around herself all her life had fallen, opening doors she didn't even know had, making her want things that no, a good girl shouldn't have and that later made her feel like she had to clean her soul. And she had tried, really, seeking comfort and still failing, because she couldn't regret having been that kind of woman if she had been that kind of woman for him.

Remembering made her tremble and it was of no help not being able to blush, there was nothing in her that didn't betray the torment of that moment, feelings that took control again and made her a toy in his hands. She didn't even feel tears slide down her face until Roman wiped it away with his thumb, then passed it over her mouth to let her taste them.

- Did you tell him our secret? How did you take care of me too? – he inquired, placing a kiss on her red eyes and Y/N moved her head, slowly, slipping into the trap without looking back, silencing any teaching received.

She knew that it was wrong, that she really shouldn't have done certain things and it would be like that with anyone else. She would have locked herself in her own room, barricaded in the bathroom, sobbing until she was sick, mind full of thoughts that she shouldn't have had, but not with him. His temptation was too strong, hands so soft around her face, still on those round hips that she hated and he seemed to like.

- I swear… Roman please… - she begged, as if God was him, looking with heart in her throat and like a God who doesn't answer, his eyes kept to dig into her, without giving relief, tearing a sob from her when even his hands threatened to leave - I swear, I did nothing, believe me, I did nothing, ain't that kind of woman-

She fell to her knees, begging for forgiveness from him and not for what he might do to her family, to those people, destroyed by the weight of knowing that he was all that really mattered in her miserable life, more than herself, more than her conscience or soul.

Trembling at the idea that he might walk out of there and look at her with the same pity with which he looked at everyone else, the one with which everyone looked at her, begging to know peace, until his hand caressed her head with affection.

- Sshh breathe, it's okay… I'll not allow anyone to know but I need you to prove me you want it too – his condescending tone, gaze soft again, were all that mattered and enchanted she nodded, torturing with fingers the edge of his trainer to keep him from move away.

- Yes sir

Something in him seemed to light up with those two words and Y/N hid the joy of having made him satisfied, eager to give him more, everything, as she had never dared with anyone else before.

- Lets wash away those sins huh? – she heard him proposing, gently pushing her closer, stroking her messy hair and her hands moved without having to think too much.

With trembling fingers she slipped under his shirt, loosening the thin lace, looking at him in hope of receiving a nod, a reassurance, but she already knew that she wouldn't come, not at that moment at least. She felt a weight in her throat, heavy breathing and rigid body, while she, uncertain, lowered them along his muscular thigs and then freeing him. The sight of his half-hard member pushed her to swallow and squeeze her legs together, panties getting wet just at the idea of perhaps being able to welcome him inside her.

In silence, her eyes wandered from the piece of meat in front of her to Roman’s face, who with a patience unknown to her, was observing without moving, his full lips curved in a grimace that Y/N didn't know if it was of satisfaction or pity. Doubt made her hands reach out again, taking him in her palm and marveling as the first time at how heavy and warm he felt. She moved, remembering what he had taught her, rubbing up and down a few times, before placing it against her lips and taking a tentative taste. Only then she feel Roman tighten his grip on her hair, pull her closer with more force, and she opened her mouth, swallowing a good part of him.

- That's it… - he approved and Y/N bobbed her head, feeling him get more and more hard, her mouth more hot as she tried.

Y/N began to run her tongue around, first along the length and then over his head, feeling the pungent taste knead her throat and soften her tense body. Breathing in through her nose, she reached up to massage his balls, watching in awe as his brow furrowed in pleasure, tongue sliding across those lips she wanted to kiss more than anything. With more and more conviction, she traced the outline of raised veins, stroking the skin where it was softest, fingers running through the curls, shyly trying to touch more, to find the courage to do what she wanted. Without realizing it she lost herself in that sensation, in the heat he was giving her, feeling his body slide inside her even if not where she wanted most, Y/N moved her hips, pressing against what she could, seeking a relief that didn't was coming.

Roman's hoarse laugh at her movements brought her back to where they were without mercy and instinctively she tried to step away, ending up feeling only his fingers tightening in her hair, blocking and forcing her to recline the head.

- You like me right? Don't run away… not even try… stay and take it – he growled menacingly, letting go a moan of indecent pleasure, as he pushed himself down her throat.

She gagged but Roman flicked his tongue, a sharp reminder, which instantly set her straight, forcing Y/N to relax her throat and take him all. With red eyes, she watched him place a hand on the window behind them for support and even though anyone could see them from there, even though her center was begging to take that punishment, throbbing around nothing, Y/N kept to indulge him, to please him, even sucking.

- This pretty face deserves to be fucked… yes, keep going, mmh

Every growl, every obscene word and gesture from him should have made Y/N run away, yet she couldn't and wouldn't. Obedient, she began to follow the movement of his hips which were now pushing into her throat, causing the slimy mixture of her saliva and his juices to drip down her neck and lips. Y/N squeezed her legs, stifling the needy moans of her body, the discomfort of her panties, fighting the temptation to slide a hand between her thighs for relief. Refusing to lose that contact with him, she sought support on his legs even though she was now pressed between the wall and window, swallowing moans and tears, putting up Roman's increasingly unsteady run. Each time he seemed to slip deeper and deeper into her throat, soul, erasing every thought to reduce her to an empty shell that existed only to welcome him. She didn't even realize that she was shaking, that she had reached her climax undone, with nothing but his presence until she felt him tighten his grip again, head down, staring at her.

- Swallow – he ordered seriously, just before cumming inside her throat.

She felt all of his body heat flowing into her, salty, thick, and she closed her eyes, accepting it. In the grip of that trance she waited for Roman to finish emptying himself before moving to clean him devotedly with her tongue, prolonging a contact that she knew would end in a few moments.

In the silence of the room, his hand leaving the window and then her hair, to tidy up the misplaced shirt was like a countdown and fighting anxiety, Y/N tried the impossible, hesitantly stretching out her fingers to touch him again, to keep him with her, but stopped mid-air.

- You're smarter than your father… stay home tomorrow - she heard him warn from above his position, as he tidied his clothes and, uncertain, she too got back on her feet, returning to grab the window - you heard me? – he asked again, this time with more force, pushing her to nod.

She didn't know if it was true, but she wasn't so sure that that order was due to the too many walks she had done in that period. She had a bad feeling or maybe it was just the melancholy taking control of her again, because the countdown was over, the confession was over and he was already leaving the room again like he always did.

Tag squad: @sunnyfleur23 @racerchix21 @alyyaanna @angelreigns444 @romanreignsdefencesquad @romanstheory @claymorexpunisher @keybladeofsteel @msbigredmachine @nayys-world @gobbersworld @utika151209 @cumxxslutt @civildawn @romanmydaddy @triscillal @papireigns-05 @helensanders92 @love-islike-abomb @darqchilddaydreamz @meggylynnloves @unfriendly--blvck--hottie @nicolewoo @reignsx @reigns-central-blog @kianaleani @daguenoire @extra-11 @thedonsfactory @snowpanda18 @brattyfics @mzv11 @romanreignseater @spritelucozade @tribalchiefdaily @2baddies2furious @vebner37 @depressedneedingrevenge @cyberdejos2 @usosthetics @jxtina-86 @harmshake @southerngirl41

#roman reigns smut #roman reigns fanfiction #roman reigns one shot #roman reigns x oc #roman reigns x y/n #roman reigns x reader #roman reigns x black reader #roman reigns x female reader #roman reigns fanfic #wwe fanfiction #roman reigns oneshot

232 notes · View notes

its-all-or-nothing94 · 9 months

Text

Racing Hearts - Part 1 // Charles Leclerc x Reader

Summary: Charles Leclerc, a beloved and celebrated F1 driver, yearns for a meaningful connection amidst the glitz and glamour of his high-profile job. As the Monaco GP is around the corner, he fatefully crosses paths with Y/N Y/L/N, an ordinary girl who captures his heart with her genuine personality and kind spirit.

Masterlist

Warnings: None

Pairing: Charles Leclerc x Reader

A/N: Sooo, this is my first F1 Story :) I hope you enjoy it. It's a typical romance for all you romance lovers out there ;) Like, Reblog, tell me what you think :D It's highly appreciated!

Disclaimer: This story is purely fictional, and any character portrayals are just how I wrote them - hence fictional! I don't know them, except my OCs.

Tagging: @liebgotts-lovergirl, @softly-writes, @bellewintersroe (I thought, you might enjoy this ;))

The streets of Monaco shimmered under the golden rays of the sun, casting an ethereal glow upon the grand city. You stood at the edge of the bustling harbor, your eyes wide with wonder. You had arrived in this glamorous playground by chance, a spontaneous detour on your adventure across Europe. The winding cobblestone streets, the opulent yachts bobbing in the azure waters, and the hum of wealthy tourists filled the air, creating an atmosphere of indulgence and sophistication.

Your Y/H/C hair fell softly around your sun-kissed shoulders as your Y/E/C eyes scanned the crowd, searching for your best friend, Sofia. Minutes turned into an impatient eternity until, finally, a familiar figure emerged from the throng. Sofia Santoro, her dark hair cascading down her back, approached with a radiant smile that reached her warm brown eyes. You embraced, reuniting after weeks of exploration and discovery.

"Y/N!" Sofia exclaimed, her voice alive with excitement. "You won't believe the sights I've seen! And the food... Oh, you have to try the pastries here. They're heavenly."

You chuckled, your spirited personality shining through. Sofia lived here for a year now, and finally, you came to visit your best friend. "I can't wait to hear all about it, Sof. Monaco truly is a dream."

As you strolled through the luxurious streets, your laughter mingling with the splash of waves, an unexpected occurrence startled them. You stumbled, your steps faltering as if an invisible force had collided with you.

"What is it?" you asked your best friend, but Sofia just looked at you, confused.

"I didn't say anything... But hey, there is that store I told you about. Be right baaack", she sings as she walked away into the store across from the harbor.

You, meanwhile, stood at the edge of the Monte Carlo harbor, your eyes wide with wonder as the sun dipped below the horizon, casting a warm golden glow over the glistening water. The air was thick with anticipation as if the city itself was holding its breath, awaiting the arrival of someone extraordinary.

You took a deep breath, the salty scent of the sea mingling with the aroma of fresh pastries wafting from a nearby café. Your heart fluttered with excitement as you adjusted the strap of your worn leather backpack, the only constant companion on your solo adventure across Europe.

"A breathtaking view, isn't it?"

You turned your head, Y/E/C eyes meeting the warm gaze of a stranger beside you. Chestnut hair, emerald green eyes, and a smile that could light up the night sky - it was as if destiny had brought you together at this very moment. Your heart skipped a beat as you stumbled back, blushing furiously.

"Uh, yes, it is," you stammered, her voice barely above a whisper.

The young man chuckled, a sound that was both melodic and infectious. "Apologies if I startled you. I couldn't help but notice your awe as you took in the beauty of Monaco."

Your cheeks flushed an even deeper shade of crimson, your Y/H/C waves tumbling down to frame your face. "It's just...I've dreamed of visiting this place for so long. And to see it like this, it's...magical."

"I couldn't agree more," he replied, extending a hand. "I'm Charles, by the way."

You couldn't say much as you were captivated by him. "Euh Y/N," you managed to squeak out, a shaky hand reaching out to meet his.

Your fingers intertwined an electric current passing between you. At that moment, the noise of the bustling harbor faded, and it was as if they were the only two people in the world.

"It's a pleasure to meet you, Y/N," Charles said, genuine warmth in his voice. "Are you enjoying your time in Monaco?"

You nodded, a shy smile gracing her lips. "I am. I've been traveling across Europe, and this is my last stop. My best friend moved here last year. Her dad is a designer, and she took over the store here. But it feels...right, being here."

Charles's eyes sparkled with interest as he leaned in closer. "And for how long are you staying?"

You hesitated, unsure how much to reveal. But with Charles, there was a certain comfort, an inexplicable connection that compelled you to share the truth.

"I actually don't have a set schedule. I'm a freelance photographer taking a break, so I... have no obligations."

Charles chuckled, his cute dimples appearing on his cheeks. "That actually sounds quite nice. Not having any obligations, I mean."

You smiled at him as the bell on the store door rang, and Sofia made her way back to you.

"Okay, I've got everything, we can... go," Sofia said, the last word hesitant, finally noticing Charles. "Uh, hi," she greeted, and Charles nodded in response with a small smile.

A young man who bore an uncanny resemblance to Charles walked out onto the street from behind him. You guessed that this must be his brother. He called out something in French and waved at Charles, eyeing him for a second, before disappearing back into the restaurant.

"I have to go," Charles said. "But maybe we'll see each other again, Y/N. It was really nice meeting you."

He nodded at Sofia before following his brother into the restaurant. You watched him leave with a content smile.

"Oh my god! Do you know who that was?!" Sofia exclaimed as soon as Charles was gone.

You looked at her, confused, while you shrugged. "He said his name is Charles."

"Yeah, Charles fucking Leclerc! The Formula 1 driver? Don't tell me you don't know him?"

Sofia raised her eyebrows at you, making you feel foolish.

"What?"

Sofia put her hand on her hip and rolled her eyes. "You just flirted with one of the most famous Formula 1 drivers there is. He's from Monaco, and you, my dear, didn't even recognize him."

"Why would I? I've never watched Formula 1!" you defended yourself.

Sofia shook her head. "No, you haven't. But he definitely had his eyes on you, girl." Sofia smiled widely and nudged you.

"So? It's not like I'm going to see him again," You shrugged, turning your gaze back to the ocean.

"Oh, don't be so quick to dismiss it, girlfriend. Monaco is a magical place. And if he wants to find you, he will find you, I promise."

Meanwhile, at the restaurant, the Leclerc family had gathered, rejoicing in the reunion of all the children back in Monaco.

"Who was that? Another tourist fan?" Arthur inquired, settling down beside their mother, Pascale, and their brother Lorenzo.

"No, actually, she wasn't," Charles responded. "I don't think she even knew who I was."

Pascale glanced at her two sons. "What are you talking about, mon chéris?" she asked just as their entrees arrived.

"Charles was talking to a girl outside. I thought she was a fan," Arthur explained, and Pascale turned her attention to Charles.

"A girl?"

Charles seemed slightly irritated by his younger brother. "It's nothing, Maman. We were just discussing Monaco, nothing more."

Pascale studied her son's face. She knew him well enough to sense that there was more to the story than met the eye.

She sighed. "Well, as long as you don't plan on rekindling things with that dreadful Isabella..."

"Maman!" Lorenzo interjected, shaking his head slightly.

"What? They're not together anymore, so I can speak my mind, can't I?" Pascale asked, looking at Charles, who shook his head, annoyed.

Charles loved his mother, but she had a tendency to be outspoken, even when it would be best to hold her tongue. Charles knew his mother had never approved of his ex-girlfriend, Isabella Rossi. They had met at a charity event in Monaco, where Isabella's wealthy businessman father and her career as a model brought them together.

Initially, Isabella was sweet and caring, and Charles had fallen deeply in love with her. However, after four years, his feelings changed. When he confided in his brothers, best friend Pierre, and his athletic trainer Andrea Ferrari, they all agreed that their relationship had become toxic.

Ending things with Isabella hadn't been easy for Charles. The life of a Formula 1 driver could be lonely, constantly jetting around the world. Having someone who cared about him was a comfort. But eventually, Charles accepted the fact that his feelings had faded, and he ended the relationship. Needless to say, Isabella didn't take it well.

That had been a month ago, and ever since, she had made numerous attempts to win him back. As the Monaco Grand Prix was just around the corner, she knew Charles was back home.

"You can, Maman, and you know it. But can we just enjoy dinner and talk about something else?" Charles asked, digging into his pasta.

"She was really pretty," Arthur chimed in, causing Lorenzo and Charles to look at him, perplexed. Arthur couldn't be referring to Isabella. Arthur, noticing his brothers' confusion, rolled his eyes. "The girl outside? She was really pretty. Are you going to see her again?"

Charles glanced at Arthur for a moment. "Why would I?" he asked, although deep down, he wanted to. There was something about Y/N that stirred something inside him as if she were something special.

"Why not? Don't tell me you don't want to see her again. I saw the way you looked at her, Charles."

Charles took a deep breath. "Even if I wanted to, Art, I don't have her number, just her first name. I don't even know where she's from."

Arthur looked at Charles with an exasperated expression. "Are you shitting me?"

"Arthur!" Pascale immediately intervened.

"Sorry, Ma. But seriously, Charles. You know that if you want to find her, you will. We all know that. So get off your ass and go find that girl!"

"Is she really that special?" Lorenzo asked, looking at Charles.

The middle brother hesitated and then nodded. "I don't know why, but I have this feeling that our story isn't finished yet."

Pascale kept a watchful eye on her son. She took a deep breath and spoke up. "Then why don't you look for her, Charles? If she truly is that special."

Charles looked surprised at his mother. Pascale wasn't one to believe in fate, but if even she was advising him to pursue it, then he knew he should.

He set his fork down and gazed at his family, one by one. "Okay, starting tomorrow, we'll begin searching for Y/N."

"We?" Lorenzo immediately questioned, but Arthur simply nodded and grinned.

Basking in the warm Mediterranean sun, you and Sofia lounged beside the pool at Sofia's opulent apartment the next morning, which her father had graciously rented for her. You relaxed, sipping on glasses of wine and sharing laughter as you reminisced about your European escapades. However, Sofia's mischievous grin indicated that she had something up her sleeve.

"Sooo, Y/N," Sofia said, her grin widening, "Oh my gosh! I can't get over what went down yesterday with Charles Leclerc!"

You blushed slightly, attempting to downplay the encounter. "Oh, come on, Sof. It wasn't that big of a deal. We just chatted for a few minutes. It doesn't mean anything."

Sofia playfully raised an eyebrow. "No big deal? I saw the way he looked at you, and trust me, that wasn't ordinary. Charles is a charming guy, but he's not usually so forward with strangers."

You took a sip of her wine, trying to conceal your excitement, and shrugged nonchalantly. "Well, he was simply being friendly, right? I mean, he interacts with fans all the time. I didn't even know who he was until you told me."

Sofia shook her head, her grin refusing to fade. "Are you serious? The way he gazed at you, Y/N. Trust me, he knows you left an impression."

You shook your head at your friend, well aware of Sofia's tendency to read too much into things. "Yeah, right."

"But Y/N, I've seen Charles with fans before. He's usually reserved, quiet. Yet with you, it was like there was something more. He couldn't take his eyes off of you," Sofia stated, sitting up from the sunbed and raising her sunglasses. "I'm serious!"

You looked at your best friend, your cheeks tinged with a hint of red. "I-I don't know what you're talking about. It was just a chance encounter, nothing more."

Sofia's eyes sparkled with excitement as she continued to prod. "Oh, come on, Y/N! You can't deny the connection between you two. It was written all over his face."

You rolled your eyes. "Could you just stop? I'm not even looking for someone at the moment, and you know that. After everything that happened with Oliver..."

Sofia sighed. "I know, I know. He was a jerk, and you've sworn off love. Got it." She slipped her sunglasses back on. "But I'm still rooting for the perfect celebrity love story." She reclined back into her chair.

You glanced over at your best friend, and then you couldn't help but burst into laughter at the absurdity of the situation.

You lingered at the pool a little longer, enjoying the warm sun on your skin. Suddenly, Sofia's phone interrupted your peaceful moment. She quickly answered, speaking rapidly in both Spanish and French. After hanging up, she turned to you with an apologetic look. "Please don't be upset with me," she pleaded, and you raised an eyebrow in curiosity. Sofia sighed, explaining, "There's an issue at my dad's store that he insists I handle personally. I'm really sorry, Y/N."

You studied your best friend for a moment before responding, "No worries, Sof. I can handle some alone time."

Sofia observed your determined expression. "Are you sure? I promised I would clear my schedule for you."

You sat up and grasped Sofia's hand. "Hey, don't worry about it. I've been traveling solo through Europe for the past six months, so I think I can handle an afternoon alone."

Sofia chuckled, grateful for her best friend's easygoing nature. That was one of the reasons she loved you so much.

Thirty minutes later, Sofia arrived at her father's store. "Okay, what's the problem?" she asked her employee, Cassandra, who explained the situation. The problem turned out to be more time-consuming than Sofia had anticipated. After three exhausting hours, they finally resolved everything. Annoyed, Sofia walked to the counter and set down her phone, which she had used frequently throughout the afternoon. Suddenly, the bell above the door jingled, causing her eyes to widen.

"I knew it!" she exclaimed, her gaze fixed on the individual who had just entered the store. With a wide grin, she approached none other than Charles Leclerc, accompanied by his brother Lorenzo. "I knew you would come back."

Charles looked at her, initially confused, before recognition dawned on him. "Wait, I saw you yesterday, didn't I?"

Lorenzo glanced between Sofia and Charles, raising an eyebrow in confusion.

"Yes, you did. At the harbor!" Sofia replied excitedly.

"So, we finally found her?" Lorenzo asked hesitantly, trying to make sense of the situation.

Sofia smiled at Lorenzo. "Yeah, it's not her," Charles clarified, causing Lorenzo's attention to snap back to his brother. "But she's the friend with the designer store."

Sofia maintained her smile, shrugging lightly. "That's me, and I'm thrilled you found me. But on the other hand... How?"

Charles chuckled. "Y/N mentioned that she was visiting a friend here who owns a designer store. So we went from store to store today, searching for a clue. And now we've found you."

"You searched all over for her?" Sofia asked, amazed. Charles nodded. "That's incredibly sweet."

A faint blush tinted Charles' cheeks. "So, can you tell me where she is?"

Sofia's smile persisted as she replied, "No."

Lorenzo's head shot up, confusion etched on his face. "No?"

"No... I mean, yes, but let me explain. She's at my place and, well... Okay, never mind. I have a proposition for you. Y/N and I will be at Jimmy'z tonight, so why don't you surprise her and join us there?" Sofia proposed, locking eyes with Charles before glancing at Lorenzo.

Charles exchanged a brief glance with his brother before turning back to Sofia. "We'll be there!"

Lorenzo looked at his younger brother, still perplexed. "We will?"

Charles met Lorenzo's gaze with a firm expression. "We will," he affirmed.

Sofia's grin widened, and she nodded enthusiastically. "Great! OMG, Y/N will be overjoyed when she sees you. She didn't want to believe me when I told her you would search for her and that you two had a special connection..." Sofia rambled, noticing Charles' amused expression.

"Sorry," Sofia finally said, realizing she had been babbling.

Charles chuckled. "It's okay. See you tonight." He took his brother's arm, and they exited Sofia's store.

A mischievous smile played on Sofia's lips as she watched them leave. Oh, Y/N was going to love this.

Upon returning home, Sofia found you emerging from the shower, clad in towels. As you applied moisturizer, Sofia entered the room with a smile on her face.

"Oh, you're back," you greeted your best friend.

"I am, and I come bearing gifts as an apology for taking so long," Sofia replied, placing a jaw-dropping black dress with golden sequins on your bed.

Curiosity piqued, you examined the beautiful garment. "Sof, no! I can't accept this, and you know it," you protested. You were well aware of Sofia's affluent background and her tendency to shower you with gifts, but you always declined.

"Come on! It's from my store, and I insist, Y/N. I want you to have it," Sofia insisted, revealing a pair of matching shoes from behind her back.

Your fingertips trembled with anticipation as your gaze shifted from the mesmerizing dress to Sofia and back again. With a gentle, hesitant touch, your fingers delicately brushed against the luxurious fabric. It felt soft and smooth beneath her touch, its fine craftsmanship evident in every thread. The sensation sent a shiver of excitement through you, making you appreciate the dress even more. "No, Sof... I wouldn't even know when to wear it..."

"Oh, I do! How about tonight, at Jimmy'z?" Sofia proposed.

"Jimmy'z?" you questioned. "Oh, no, Sof! You know I despise those types of clubs..."

Sofia draped her arm around you, a mischievous glint in her eyes. "Well, that's a shame, but there's no way you're getting out of this one, my dear. I've already made all the arrangements."

With that, Sofia pranced out of your room, leaving her best friend in stunned silence. However, a smile crept onto your lips as you shook your head in amusement. Once again, you gazed at the dress. It truly was a stunning piece, and in that moment, you felt a flicker of excitement at the thought of wearing it tonight.

>> Part 2

#Charles Leclerc #Charles Leclerc x Reader #Charles Leclerc Fanfic #Formula 1 x reader #Formula 1 #Charles Leclerc Romance #Formula 1 Romance #Ordinary x Celebrity #Celebrity relationship #Racing Hearts #Kim writes again

345 notes · View notes

smoooothoperator · 1 month

Text

untouchable

18: Run Boy Run

Lando Norris x OC (Violet Sinclair)

same group friend, unrequited love, acquittances to lovers, ski trip, love triangle, life as lovers

Words: 4.8k

Warnings: fluff, races

a/n: next chapter is THE chapter!!!!! and of course I had to be a little delulu with this chapter

Masterlist

Official Playlist

previous chapter | next chapter

If you want to be tagged don't forget to message me!

Every way of feedback is very welcomed

Outfit? Check.

Make up? Check.

Bag? Check.

Phone… Oh, where did I leave it?

“Violet, keep calm” Lando chuckled, following me with eyes, watching how I walked around the hotel room.

“I can't find my phone!” I groaned, moving the cushions of the bed.

“Here” he smiled, grabbing it from God knows where. “Why are you nervous?”

I took a deep breath and looked at him, biting my lip, chewing it until I remembered I was wearing lipstick on it.

Why am I nervous? Maybe because of the fact that this will be the first time I'll be seen in the paddock, something who shall not be named really avoided the last few years. And not only that, this will be my first time walking with him in a place where we know there will be photographers.

“I just… I don't know, what if I fall or something like that in front of every photographer? Then they will take pictures of that and I will be all over the internet” I said. “And not only that! Look at my outfit! And my bag! This is not sponsored or from a luxury brand! I bought this on Zara!”

“And you look absolutely gorgeous in this dress” he said, placing his hand on my shoulders and squeezing them softly, rubbing his thumbs on my skin. “Take a deep breath, okay? You are not going to fall because I'll be holding your hand all the time”

“You promise?”

“I promise” he smiled, pecking my lips softly.

I took a deep breath and closed my eyes, wrapping my arms around him and leaning on his body.

The last few weeks were hard for me. After knowing what happened with Eloise, it was hard for me to move on. At first I was mad, with myself and with her, because I felt betrayed and somehow I was disappointed with myself because I couldn't reach her before what happened. I couldn't understand how that happened, how none of her family or mine called me. They knew I loved Eloise like a sister, and still no one told me.

I was betrayed by my own family. How am I supposed to feel about that? How am I supposed to face them after that?

Lando stayed with me as much as he could while he had free time from his duties, and when he couldn't be with me, he ma onde sure that Pietra came to my home to make sure I wasn't alone.

But it felt weird. I was heartbroken, but I didn't cry. And it made me feel disappointed with myself, because I felt that I wasn't grieving her, not how she deserves.

“Are you sure it's only that?” he whispered against my hair.

“You know the answer…”

“I just want to know if you are okay, Violet…” he sighed. “I still remember what you said to me, that you are scared of getting in the car. But I wanted you to remember my promise, hm?”

“I know… it's your job, you have to do it anyway” I sighed.

“You won't get rid of me that easily” he said, and I could hear the smile in his voice.

I smile and close my eyes, kissing the skin of his neck softly and taking a deep breath of his perfume.

“Come on”

I took a deep breath and grabbed my bag, hanging it on my shoulder and walking out of the hotel room with him. I wasn't used to the fancy treatment, of staying in a Hilton hotel, sitting on a McLaren and arriving at a place where everyone has something higher that 100€ on their outfit. It was overwhelming, somehow, watching supercars driving near us, hearing the engine of the cars driving through the parking lot.

“Today I have to record things for the media, if you want, you can stay in the hospitality and do some work” he said looking at me, placing his hand on my thigh and squeezing it softly.

I nodded and smiled, placing my hand on top of his. His touch is always gentle, even on bed. He always holds me, letting me know he's there. He always needs to have a hand on me whenever I'm close and sometimes I find him doing it whenever he feels anxious.

“Oh, sure. I was going to catch up a little with the girls. They said something about having a little brunch date” I said chuckling, watching him smile and nod.

When he parked his car I felt his hand squeezing my thigh three times, rubbing his thumb on my skin. I looked at him and smiled, leaning closer and kissing his cheek.

“Ready?” he asked. “Stay close to me, okay? Don't let go my hand”

“As if I was going to” I joked, rolling my eyes.

When we got out of the car he immediately walked towards me, holding my hand and guiding me.

I have been in the paddock before, I was in one a month ago while I went with him to the testing of the new car. But somehow, this time it felt completely different. Walking hand in hand with him, hearing the people chorus his name and mine, calling us… it felt way more different.

“You can go take pictures if you want” I said, watching how some of the people behind the barriers were calling him.

“You sure?” he smiled weakly, making me nod and receive a kiss on my cheek before he walked away.

I saw him taking pictures with them, talking with them and even grabbing the gifts they had for him. I was so proud of him, of who he is, of what he achieves every time he comes to the paddock.

“Let's go” he smiled, holding my hand and walking towards the scanners.

“What did they give you?” I asked him, looking at what he was holding with his other hand.

“Oh, I think some bracelets as always” he smiled. “They just make them for me, it's like the ones they exchange on those Taylor Swift's concerts”

“That's cute” I laugh softly.

“I have a lot of them back in Monaco” he laughed.

I smile looking at him, scanning my ID pass after him. I looked around, smiling. This is a whole different thing, a whole different world.

I once brought him to my work and to my world, and now he is the one that is bringing me to his job.

His smile immediately changed the moment he heard the mechanics building the cars, when he recognized the people from every team. And the moment he held my hand tight made my smile look like his.

When people walked towards us and he introduced me to them as his partner, I could help but feel the pride in his voice. He placed his arm around my waist and then his hand on my hip, pulling me close to him, rubbing his thumb over my skin to keep me calm.

“So she is the famous Violet, hm?” I heard someone behind us.

“Hey, cabrón” Lando smiled, looking at his friend.

I smiled looking at him, watching how the Spaniard smiled and took a step closer to me, placing his hand on my shoulder and kissing my cheek two times.

“It's about damn time you two are together, huh?” he joked, teasing Lando. “How long did it take you? Years?”

“Ah, fuck off!” Lando groaned, pinching Carlos.

I laughed softly, watching them talk, and never stopped feeling Lando's hand on my hip.

“Violet!”

I turned around, smiling when I recognized the sound of Lily's voice walking towards me next to Alex. I smiled looking at Lando, kissing his cheek before walking away towards Lily, hugging her.

“News fly around! You have a lot of things to tell us, hm?” she smirked, linking her arm with mine and walking. “Since when are you two dating?”

“Well, since Christmas actually” I smiled proudly, remembering that morning in his childhood room and how I confessed my love for him. “I think I had some kind of feelings for him after all. It was easy falling for him”

“Well, then I guess a brunch is a proper way to welcome you as a new wag” she said.

We walked towards the paddock club after showing our passes, going upstairs and being welcomed by a glass of mimosas.

“Finally!” Carmen laughed, walking towards me and hugging me. “George and I made a bet to see how long it took him to ask you out. I guess I owe him some money”

“No way” I laughed, shaking my head. “All of you knew?”

“It was pretty obvious” Lily said, shrugging her shoulders. “He even asked us recently for some tips for you so you could get used to this”

“I have to say that I was surprised by that, by the way” Carmen nodded.

“Oh…” I smiled softly, blushing, about what we talked about after we made our relationship public.

“Yeah, true” Lily nodded. “He came to us in the last race of the season and told us his plan. It was pretty cute hearing him talk about what he planned for that ski trip and all”

“Well, I think it went according to his plan” I smiled.

After all, he made me fall for him during the trip.

Standing inside the McLaren garage during the practices was something different to what it feels like during the qualifying.

During practice, the mechanics and engineers do everything they can to take every data possible during an hour, making the drivers come and go from the garage. It's noisy, hearing them change things to the car and put different tyres.

But during the qualifying you can feel the tension, the anxiety, the hunger of having a good position for the race.

Every move is crucial, every waste of fuel is important as well as the time they let the drivers get out of the garage.

“God, I'm feeling nauseous from the anxiety around the garage” I whispered to Lily, Oscar's girlfriend. “It’s always like this?”

“You'll get used to it” she chuckled. “They just want to do the best. You saw the results of the practices, they can be on top if they aim for it”

I nodded and smiled weakly, looking at the screens.

Yesterday, when we came back from the track after the practices, I met a new side of Lando. His position after the second practice, finishing last, because of a mistake he made. Somehow, even if he was conscious of how good the car was working, he was too hard on himself.

“I just hate it when I make mistakes and I know that I could do a better job” he sighed, laying on the bed looking at the ceiling. “The car was feeling good, this time I know we can have a good pace during the whole weekend… But the problem is who drives it”

“Hey, don't be too harsh on yourself” I sighed, sitting next to him and looking down into his eyes. “You are driving amazing, okay? This morning you just put the car on the top 3. What happened at the second practice was nothing bad, the team understood it and they didn't complain. You did a great job”

“I could have done a better job…” he sighed.

“And you will. Tomorrow is another day. You have another practice and then the quali” I smiled. “Everyone in the garage is happy with how the cars are doing, I can feel that. Just trust your guts, the car can take you where you want it to go”

After trying to put some hope and common sense in him last night, watching him reach the fifth position in the morning made me feel proud. It made me feel listened.

The people inside the garage clapping made me smile, letting go of a breath I didn't know I was holding and clapping too, watching how the mechanics walked out to go to their cars.

Somehow I was lost, following Lily around, hoping that she knew what was coming next. We walked out of the garage through the corridor that goes to the paddock, waiting for Lando and Oscar to come to us.

Watching cameras around made me feel nervous, observes. I can't make mistakes, I shouldn't. I know I'm the new wag, everyone's eyes are on me.

“Hey” I smile, watching him walk towards me with the upper half of his suit hanging around his hips.

“Hey, love” he smiled, letting go of the straw of his bottle. He smiled, placing his hand on my hip as I took a step closer to him, cupping his cheek with my hand.

“I'm so proud of you” I said, pressing my lips against his, feeling his smile grow. “You did an amazing job”

“Yeah, we are in a good place for tomorrow” he nodded, making me smile and kiss his cheek softly. “I'm so happy with it”

Watching his smile made me smile too, ignoring the flashes around us. Right, they search every little gesture to find mistakes and something to talk about.

“Tomorrow will be amazing, I'm sure” I whisper in his ear.

I felt him smile, hugging me tighter and hiding his face on my neck. I felt him take deep breaths, leaning on me some seconds longer.

“I have to do interviews and briefing” he whispered. “Wait for me in my room, yeah?”

I smile and nod, cupping his cheek and kissing him again, tasting the salty flavor of his sweat again. I smiled and looked into his eyes when he ran his hand up my back, patting me three times before letting me go.

“Good results! Right, girls?” Zak said behind us, standing between Lily and I while watching both papaya drivers walk towards the media pen. “It's good to have lucky charms in the garage, huh?”

“Yeah” Lily and I laughed softly.

And somehow, what he said made me feel good, part of the team. And the results after every race indeed made me feel way more proud.

Both cars were going amazing in the races, staying in the top 10, bringing points and big smiles to the faces of every mechanic and engineer.

I tried to go to every race to support him, to stand in the garage and be his lucky charm, to watch him drive even if my own heart beat at an unhealthy rhythm every time he drove close to a wall. But he always came back, he always came back to me after every race to hug me and kiss me, asking me to help him put the bracelet I gave him.

“Why don't you keep it during the races?” he asked, getting dressed in the room of Bahrain's paddock.

“Huh?” I frown, looking up from my phone, watching how he gave me the twin of the bracelet I have.

“We can make it our ritual” he said. “Kevin has his daughter who gives him the gloves and puts down his visor, Pierre has his girlfriend to kiss him on the helmet every time he gets in the car. Why don't we make this our thing?”

“That's cute” I chuckled, blushing. “So you want me to keep it everytime you go into the car and then put it on your bracelet when you come back?”

“Exactly!” he laughed.

“Cameras will be recording us every time” I laughed, putting his bracelet next to mine. “We will give them a sugar rush”

“Do I look like I care?” he smirked. “Let's give the fans some material for their edits. I just want to come back to my girl, let them mind their own business”

Lando always told me that Austria was his favorite track of the calendar. He had his first podium here and he always had good results during that race, and since this season was giving him good results, he wanted the best in this track.

But even if he wanted it with all his heart, his self criticism was worse during this week. He was so hungry for the victory that he wasn't able to celebrate the good things, he only focused on every mistake he made.

“I just don't get it! I don't understand why the car is not doing what I want to do! And to make it worse, the FIA is being a pain in the ass with all those deleted times” he groaned, getting out of the car after the first practice. “If I wasn't that stupid, I could have been P1 on this practice!”

“Lando, come on” Max sighed. “It didn't only happen to you… And the results of this practice are not realistic, come on. They deleted so many times that the ones that stayed on the top 3 are old laps…”

“Exactly” I sighed, placing my hand on his arm. “Just look at the list, why would both Haas be first and second?”

“Because they didn't make mistakes like me” he groaned, grabbing his bottle of water and drinking it. “Whatever, I have to do interviews. See you later”

I sighed, watching how he followed his PR manager, not even kissing me before walking away.

“He's too stressed” Max sighed, shaking his head.

“And being too hard on himself” I said. “If he only saw the times… he did even a better time than Verstappen”

“Yeah, but you know him. He only focuses on what he does wrong” he sighed. “He can't enjoy the good results until he sees them”

The second practice didn't go better, at least not from his point of view. He had the pace, he was always leading the list. But only because of the track limits, his times got deleted. His engineer could feel how annoyed he was every time he told him that the time was deleted, and the mood in the garage wasn't better.

The rest of the day he was quiet, moody. He let Jon drive the car while he sat in the backseats with me. He ate dinner in silence, looking to a spot in the wall in front of him and blinking from time to time.

“Okay, this has to stop”

Lando looked at me, snapping out of his trance. Max took a deep breath and sighed, looking at both of us.

“Can the Lando I love come back?” I frowned looking at him. “Because right now, the one that is sitting next to me is someone I don't recognize”

“Violet…” Max sighed. “Not now…”

“Not now? Then when?” I frown, leaving the fork on the plate.

“Okay, okay” Max sighed, raising his hands and sighing. “I think it's my time to go to my room”

I sighed, watching Max get up from the floor of our room and grab the plate with the food he ordered from room service. Lando was looking down at his own food, taking a deep breath.

“See you tomorrow” Max sighed, before closing the door behind him.

I took a deep breath and turned to face Lando. He was looking down at his hands, playing with his fingers.

“What is going on inside of this head?” I sighed, placing my hand on his nape, playing with his curls.

“I don't know” he sighed, and by the way he sighed I knew he was tired. “I just… It's like I'm losing control. I make mistake after mistake. I feel that I'm rolling down a hill and I can't stop it”

“You are just so deeply focused into the bad thoughts, Lando” I sighed, holding his hand. “Have you seen the screens with the data during the practice? I may not understand how it works, but I know that when the numbers are green and with a minus sign in front of the number it means that the times are good”

“But-”

“You were flying Lando” I said. “I came to all the races, and I swear this is the first one I saw that you were faster than Verstappen!”

“But I still get out of the track” he sighed.

“And that's something you can fix! Tomorrow you have the last practice. You know your weak spots in this track, you know you can be on pole, but you can see it just yet” I said, holding his hands. “I believe in you, Lando. I really think you have a chance. Just please, believe in it too”

I don't know if my speech worked, but the next day during the last practice he was more talkative with his engineers, and he tried everything to be inside of the track. In fact, he had good times and barely got them deleted, making him be first at the end of the practice.

But then quali came.

“Now should be the right time to pray” Max sighed next to me.

“Oh believe, I'm praying to every God I know to make him be on pole” I whisper. “And to make Verstappen stay away from him”

“Naughty girl!” Max laughed.

“I just want him to make a mistake! For once! It's not much to ask” I laughed softly.

Everyone was tense, hoping that both papaya drivers escaped the sensors of the FIA. No one wanted to clap or celebrate, not wanting to jinx anything. And when the time for the Q1 ended and both of the McLaren drivers stayed out of the elimination zone, everyone relaxed for a little amount of time. And it happened again during Q2, watching the cars drive fast and barely getting out of the track, not crossing the limits.

“Looks like whatever you talked with him about worked a little” Max whispered leaning on me. “How did you do that?”

“My charm” I smirked slightly. “And a promise of something you don't want to know about”

“Wha- Ew gross!” he gasped when he saw my smirk.

I shook my head and laughed softly, focusing again on the screens, watching Lando's untouchable time staying on top of everyone's.

He can do it. He can have a pole.

“Come on, come on…” Max and I prayed, holding each other's hand and holding our breaths, waiting for the last of the top ten to make his lap.

And then it happened.

The garage exploded with people clapping, cheering. I hugged Max and jumped with bim, celebrating that he finally did it. Everyone ran to receive him, to watch him get out of the car and celebrate his pole. I went there, grabbing the bracelet and having it ready in my hand to put it around his wrist.

“I did it!” Lando gasped, walking towards the team and towards me, holding my cheeks with his hand.

“I didn't want to say it, but… Told ya” I laughed, watching him shake his head.

That was just the beginning.

Next day. Race day.

Having pole position changed his mood for better, and somehow I could feel it with how he woke up.

Normally, during races, he's grumpy the moment the alarm starts. He groans and holds me tighter, hiding his face on my nape.

But today he woke up with a smile, pressing soft kisses on my shoulder as well as rubbing my stomach softly.

“Morning” I whisper, smiling. “Ready for today?”

“Oh yeah” he said, smiling. “Thank you”

“Hm? Why?” I frown, turning around and looking at him.

“Because you are always putting me in place” he sighed. “Always making me come back to Earth when I'm being an immature idiot”

“You are too harsh on yourself, Lando” I sighed. “Look what you can do when you believe in yourself! You've got a pole! You have a chance of winning this race, I believe in you”

“Thank you, baby” he smiled, kissing my forehead.

The moment we walked through the paddock everyone wanted Lando's attention, everyone wanted a picture with him. Everyone was congratulating him, patting his back and wishing him the best of luck.

“I think I won't need it, I have my lucky charm in the garage” he always said.

Time went fast, and before I knew it I was standing next to Max in the garage, watching the screens and waiting for the countdown to end, watching how Lando stopped the car after the formation lap, waiting for the lights to go off.

“He can do it, right?” I whisper.

“He has high possibilities” Max nodded. “If he has a good start he can keep the position. Max is away, even if his car is fast he has to overtake most of the other cars. And behind Lando is Oscar, as well as Lewis and Fernando. They are good with defense”

“But still, he can't relax” I sighed.

“He won't, I bet”

The race was hard. 71 laps of pure tension. Every movement was important, this time more than ever. The pit stops had to be fast, the overtakes, the defenses. Everyone in the garage was in silence, focused on the papaya car leading the race and the one following it.

“God, I need to pee” I mumbled, not taking my eyes away from the screens.

“Go, I'll tell you if something happened while you are there” Max said, nudging my side with his elbow.

I took a deep breath and nod, walking to Lando's room and getting in the bathroom. I grabbed my phone, going through the messages and sighing when I saw the same notification as always.

Missed calls from unknowns (6)

I sigh, shaking my head and blocking those numbers again. Same as always. Maybe those are some spam calls.

When I came back next to Max there were only 5 laps left. And Lando was still leading.

“He will do it, right?” I said, taking a deep breath.

“Oh yes” he smirked.

It was happening. It was finally happening. I saw the mechanics getting up from the chairs, running to the wall when the last lap started, waiting to celebrate with him.

“Violet!” I heard Zak call me. “You want to come say something?”

“Can I?” I gasped, looking at him and then at Max.

He nodded and I just walked towards the engineers wall, connecting my headset and waiting for Lando to cross the finish line.

“Lando Norris, you are a race winner!” I exclaimed, feeling tears in my eyes when I heard his cries.

“Violet? Is that you?”

“You did it! Baby, you did it! I'm so so proud”

“Oh I'm going to cry more!” he laughed. “We did it! God! I love you!”

When he parked the car behind the 1 he got out of the car, standing on top of the halo. Every crew member of McLaren was there, cheering, screaming.

He did it. He won a race!

“Violet!” I heard him scream, jumping out of the car and running towards me, taking off his helmet. “I did it! Oh my God!”

“You did it!” I giggle, cupping his cheeks and wiping away the little tears.

“I'm going to kiss you” he laughed, pulling me closer to him and pressing his lips on mine. “God, I love you so fucking much”

Without Eloise in the picture he knew he only had one person left.

He tried to come up with a plan, something that can eliminate him forever, making sure that Violet will be only his.

During his walks around her neighborhood, he discovered that they are living together. He saw his car parked in front of the building. He saw their figures dancing in front of the window. He saw them having dinner on the small balcony during hot days of spring. And now both of them were in every post about his win, with pictures of him kissing her after he got out of the car.

What did she see in him? He has to free her. He has to make sure she's safe and out of whatever spell he put on her.

And that's what he's going to do.

He recognized one of Lando's cars in front of the building, his Audi RSQ8. He always hated the amount of cars he had, how careless he was buying one whenever he wanted like he was buying new clothes.

He considered many options, but the one that worked before was the winner: manipulate the brakes.

It was easy, he did it with Eloise's car and the results were impressive, with her losing control of the car thanks to the frozen road and then trying to brake when she saw she lost control of the car.

Why not try it again? Maybe he can make Lando lose control while he drives. And the funniest part of it? That it goes slowly, barely noticeable, like a slow and agonizing death.

He only has to wait.

Wait and see the results of his masterpiece.

taglist

@elisysd @racinggirl @ninifee1802 @kakorrhaphiphobia @landoyesrizz @lorarri @bellwhysomean @leptitlu @aphroditeisamilf @brekkers-whore @copper-boom @sideboobrry11 @alltoomaples @f1madison @elijahslover @silkenthusiasts @chonkybonky @summerslike11 @randomgirlnumber-13 @is-just-a @whentheautumnleavesfall @malynn @mycenterfold @barackosteaa @izzy-marvel @ssprayberrythings @ophcelia

99 notes · View notes

misc-obeyme · 6 months

Text

Here is part two with the rest of the characters!

I actually included the three undateables - Mephisto, Raphael, and Thirteen. I'm getting tired of waiting for them to become dateable, so I decided to go ahead and write some for them, too. I don't know how good they are, I feel like I have no clue what I'm doing when it comes to them lol.

I may have also included my OC Arsenios as a bonus... just 'cause I really wanted to write one for him. It's exactly the kind of scenario he would be there for so it just fit so well. Anyway, you can read more about him here if you're curious. He's also the last one, so you can just skip it altogether if you like lol!

FLUFFTOBER 2023

GN!MC x the dateables, the undateables, and one OC lol

Warnings: none that I can think of??

It was an October night in the Devildom and the House of Lamentation was hosting a Halloween masquerade ball. The main hall had been decorated splendidly in oranges, purples, and blacks. An entire feast was laid out, the table full of dishes contributed to the party by Barbatos and Simeon. The room was dark, lit mostly by orbs of orange light, enchanted to float through the air by Solomon. On a small stage there was a live band playing a mix of lively and slow creepy music. The dance floor was filled with demons, all of whom were unrecognizable…

Due to the masquerade theme, special masks had been made for each attendee. They were made by Satan and Asmodeus, working together to create magical masks that would completely obscure each party goer's appearance. Once they put on the mask, a glamor fell over them that transformed them and made them unrecognizable. Every glamor costume was black and incorporated a look involving fancy suits, flowing dresses, and probably too many sequins.

The party organizers all knew what each other's mask-generated costumes looked like. Everyone had been present when Asmo revealed his designs. Everyone… except you. You had insisted on creating your own glamor and thus hadn't been present to see everyone else's.

Now you stood in the middle of this masquerade party, unable to recognize a single person.

And yet you knew that the person you wanted to see most was in the room somewhere. And after a small amount of time, you were certain you had figured out who it was. You made a bold move and asked them to dance. While you were in their arms, they told you to meet them somewhere specific later, when the party was winding down. You agreed and spent the rest of the night exchanging looks with them, anticipating the moment when you would be alone with them.

Had you chosen the correct person? Did you know them well enough that you could determine their identity when their appearance was so altered? And more importantly… did they know who you were?

Diavolo

You actually had to pretend that you didn't know who he was. The reality was that there was no mistaking Diavolo. He walked like a king, moving about the room and talking happily with every demon he came across. He had a presence unlike any other, even rivaling Lucifer in the way he commanded the space and everybody's attention.

You had to intercept him and ask him to dance. He accepted your invitation readily enough, but you weren't sure if it was out of politeness or if it was because he actually knew who you were. He spoke with you easily while you danced and even when he asked you to meet him in the foyer, you weren't sure if he knew you.

You managed to break away later, when things were winding down. You had seen Diavolo going into the foyer and followed him after only a few moments.

His mask was already gone and you found him in full demon form. Diavolo looked absolutely regal standing there, waiting for you. You went up to him, almost intimidated. You still weren't sure if he knew you.

"You wanted to see me, Lord Diavolo?" you asked carefully.

Diavolo chuckled. He reached out to take off your mask. "Were you truly afraid I didn't know you, MC?"

You blushed and looked away.

Diavolo laughed and took your hands, pulling you outside into the Devildom night. Before you knew what was happening, you were in his arms and with a heavy beat of his enormous wings, the two of you were flying. The wind rushed through your hair as you wrapped your arms around him, pressing yourself close.

Diavolo hovered for a moment. "Don't be afraid. I have you. I only wanted to be alone with you for a moment. Up here, no one will see us."

You flushed, amazed at the sight of him, his strong arms keeping you up, the yellow light of the moon splashing across his skin. Everything became heated as he kissed you, the neediness of his lips indicating just how much he had been waiting for this moment.

Barbatos

If you hadn't been deliberately looking for him, you likely wouldn't have noticed Barbatos at all. He stayed out of the way, on the edges of the party, sometimes fully in the shadows. But even in his glamor, he maintained his usual butler pose and his stance was what gave him away.

You weren't sure if he would accept when you asked him to dance. You knew he was a guest at this party, but he had a tendency to go into butler mode even as an attendee. To your delight, he bowed to you and took your hand. You hadn't been sure if he knew who you were, but the way he danced so close to you indicated that he did. Likely, he had known all along. Your suspicions seemed confirmed when he invited you to the kitchen.

You slipped into the kitchen as the party quieted, finding Barbatos making tea. You weren't in doubt of his identity, but the sight was so familiar, any questions were immediately put to rest.

"Come, MC," Barbatos said. "I've brewed your favorite."

You took off your mask. "You always knew it was me, didn't you?"

Barbatos poured you a cup of tea and handed it to you. He met your eyes and took off his own mask. "Just as you always knew it was me."

You put the teacup down on the counter next to your mask. You took Barbatos's face in your hands and kissed him.

Barbatos responded by wrapping his arms around your waist and kissing you back.

After a moment, he pulled away and smiled at you. "Your tea will get cold, MC."

"Let it," you said, kissing him again.

Simeon

You really thought it would be easy to find an angel in a room full of demons, even if they were all unrecognizable. You moved from group to group, trying to figure out if you could find Simeon by his words. Perhaps he would say something that would tip you off.

You were unsuccessful still by the time someone asked you to dance. You almost said no, but something stopped you. You cocked your head and considered him. He was graceful, his hand extended, ready to take yours. You couldn't quite place it, but there was something about him that made you think… could it be…? When he asked you to meet him in the guest room later - your room - you were even less sure than before.

When you entered your own room to find him waiting for you, you hesitated.

But then Simeon laughed and no glamor could hide the musical sound of it.

"I'm sorry, MC," he said. "Did I confuse you by asking you to meet me in your room?"

You sighed, coming fully into the room now and taking off your own mask. "It was a little unexpected, yes."

You walked up to Simeon and took off his mask yourself.

"But in the end, your angelic laugh gave you away," you said with a smile.

Simeon blushed. "I only wanted a moment alone with you and this seemed like the best place."

You put your arms around him. "It is," you said.

Simeon kissed you without prompting, his arms tightening around your waist and pulling you into him.

Solomon

You were the only two humans in the room. Maybe that was all it took. Perhaps it was the unmistakable bond between master and apprentice. You could even argue that after all the time you'd spent doing spells together, you simply knew the feeling of the other's magic. Whatever the reason, both you and Solomon knew each other upon first sight.

You both deliberately kept your distance, each of you sending glances at the other across the room at regular intervals. It was a look of knowing, a soft smile, quick eye contact, a conversation without words. You were the first one to ask him to dance. He accepted right away, holding you closer than a stranger would dare to as you moved together to the slow song that was playing.

You were a little startled when Solomon teleported you right off the dance floor. You grabbed onto his arms as the room spun a bit before resolving into his own room at Purgatory Hall.

You took a step back and folded your arms, frowning at him. "Was that really necessary?"

Solomon chuckled. "You sound upset, MC. After all those looks you gave me tonight, I thought you would want us to be alone."

You blushed and were grateful that you were still wearing your mask. "I mean, yes, obviously, but now everybody's going to be in uproar about it."

"No they won't," Solomon said, putting his arms around you again. "Nobody knew who you were, did they?"

You suspected that some of the others had figured out your identity. But the look in Solomon's still glamored eyes made your stomach flip and you found you no longer cared. You took off his mask and yours, tossing them aside before kissing him.

Mephistopheles

Maybe you wouldn't have known Mephistopheles with the glamor, but he gave himself away with his haughty demeanor. He moved around the room with his chin up, following Diavolo like a puppy. Everyone in the room was aware of Diavolo's identity, so it only made sense that the one constantly seeking his attention was likely Mephisto.

You approached and asked him to dance, knowing that his sense of correct manners would prevent him from saying no. He didn't seem to be able to tell exactly who you were as you danced with him. You wanted to ask him to meet you later, but you weren't sure if he would agree. So instead you mentioned that Lord Diavolo was going to be in the music room.

You were pleased to find Mephisto waiting when you showed up in the music room. He turned to you and frowned.

"I thought you said Lord Diavolo would be here," he said.

You took off your mask. "I'm sorry," you said. "I only said that because I didn't think you'd come if I just asked."

Mephisto's frown deepened as he took off his own mask. "You? What do you want?"

You came closer, tapping his chest with your fingertips, smile teasing. "Oh I don't know. It's a party. You seemed so tense and preoccupied. I thought you might like to let go a little."

Mephisto blushed, but he caught your hand in his. "And I suppose you think you can help me with that?"

You leaned forward, your faces almost touching. "If you let me."

Mephisto pulled your hand so you stumbled forward a little and your lips crashed into his. His arm wrapped around you and you couldn't resist putting your other hand on his cheek as you kissed him back.

Raphael

Raphael was almost painfully obvious. You even heard him say something about spears, which instantly let you know who you were dealing with. He seemed oblivious about who you were and he also seemed like he didn't particularly care who was who at all.

That was, until you asked him to dance. He agreed, but it was clear to you that he was puzzled. Not just about who you were, but why you wanted to dance with him. He likely thought you were a demon and therefore would want to stay far away from him. And yet, as the dance went on, he relaxed, which surprised you. Had he realized who you were? You thought he must have when he asked you to meet him in the garden.

When you arrived, he turned to look at you. He had already removed his mask and he had a rose in his hand, which he handed to you as you came closer.

"I asked you to come out here so I could give you this," he said, his voice serious, his demeanor as stiff as it always was.

You held the rose carefully and looked at him. "Do you… know who I am?"

Raphael smiled and it transformed his face. One moment he had been staring at you with an almost stern expression, but now there was a sweet softness that you rarely saw. "Of course I do, MC."

You sighed and took off your mask. "What gave me away?"

Raphael blushed lightly. "It was your kindness. I did not think a demon would ask to dance with me. I would have recognized if it had been Simeon or Solomon."

You couldn't help yourself. You leaned forward and pressed a kiss to his lips. To your complete surprise, Raphael put his hands on your waist, keeping you there and kissing you back. You found out in that moment how soft Raphael could become.

Thirteen

You expected it to be difficult to find Thirteen. You thought she likely didn't even want to be at the party at all. So you supposed she would keep to herself. But you should have known she wouldn't be able to give up a chance to trap a certain sorcerer. She had brought a trap that looked absolutely terrifying, but before it could be sprung, Barbatos intercepted it and had her take it apart.

She was sulking about the lost opportunity when you asked her to dance. The way she brightened up immediately made you think she must know it was you. You were the only one she seemed to genuinely like. She danced with you happily, smiling the whole time. When the dance was over, she asked you to meet her later in the planetarium.

As soon as you arrived, she was at your side. "MC! You came!"

You laughed and took off your mask. "How did you know it was me?"

Thirteen giggled. "Your shiny soul, of course! It was the first thing I saw when I got here!"

You blushed and reached out to take her mask off, too. "I might not have figured out who you were if it wasn't for that trap you brought."

Thirteen frowned and shook her head. "Barbatos ruined my chance."

You took her hand. "Maybe, but I'm sure you'll come up with an even better trap for Solomon."

Thirteen pulled you closer, her smile back. "You're so sweet, aren't you, MC?"

"Only to you," you said, leaning in and pausing only a breath away from Thirteen's lips.

Thirteen needed no further prompting, letting her lips meet yours as your arms slid around her.

Arsenios

The live band playing on the small stage seemed to consist of a group of demons all wearing the glamor-giving masks. You were a little mesmerized by the one who was playing the piano, but you had no idea who he was at first. You watched them play as you moved about the room, your eyes always going back to the demon at the piano. A few times, he looked up and met your eyes.

You noticed when band members began to take breaks, one of them leaving the stage while the others played something soft and mellow. So you were hovering by the drink table when the demon who had been playing the piano came to the table for some water.

"Hey there, MC," he said as he filled a little cup from a large glass jug with slices of Devildom citrus floating in it.

You frowned. "You know me?"

He shrugged and drank the whole cup in one long gulp. "There's a rhythm to the way you walk," he said.

Something about the way he said this clued you in to his identity. "Arsenios?"

He took off his mask, revealing that you were correct. "I didn't think you'd know me."

You pretended to be offended. "Really? Who else would recognize someone by the rhythm of their walk?"

Arsenios chuckled. "Yeah, okay, smart ass," he said.

You grinned and grabbed his hand, pulling him away from the drinks and into the nearest empty room, which happened to be the library. He let you lead him, an amused expression on his face when you turned back to him.

"I'm glad you're here tonight," you said. "Even if it is as the entertainment."

Arsenios reached up to remove your mask. He put it carefully aside before cupping your cheek in his hand. "And? Are you entertained?"

You leaned toward him. "Not yet."

Arsenios pulled you close and kissed you, arms enclosing you. You could just hear the soft strains of the music - sans piano - behind the beating of your heart.

part 1 with the demon brothers

flufftober | kinktober | masterlist | Thank you for reading!

taglist: @anxious-chick @t0tallycoolname @libidinous-weeb

214 notes · View notes

boldlypurplelight · 4 months

Text

Love is a drug|| JJK|| 5

Pairing: Yandere Jungkook × Female Reader

Genre: Yandere Themes, a bit fluff, angst, betrayal.

Summary: OC had a very Happy life with her lovely Boyfriend Jeon Jungkook, a 24 year old ceo ; but things take a vast turn and oc finds herself in critical condition.

CHAPTER 5

Jungkook had been waiting for yn, he had been trying to prepare for her birthday although your colleagues are preparing for it. He wanted to birthday to be special. He smiled already imagining your happy face.

Someone tapped on his shoulder, thinking it'd be yn he turned around only to be shocked. It was Sarah. The girl who came up week ago to his office.

Sarah smiled "Hello Mr. Jeon". Sarah was surprised, in real. Seeing this as a opportunity she went upto him.

Jungkook was shocked but he felt eerie comfortable with Sarah, he didn't know why.

"Hello!! Miss Sarah, I didn't see you there" as he scratched his head.

"I see, I have made a red velvet cake as you said. Umm, will you have the time to..." Sarah acted upon her character. She made herself look angel who can never do any wrong but the reality was something else.

Jungkook saw the hesitation and smiled to make her comfortable with him.

"Ofcourse, I'd love to" he spoke with gentle and friendly voice making her smile.

Sarah looked at her right she saw yn, it seemed like heavens were blessing her today. It was satisfying to see Yn's sad face. It didn't disappoint her.

YN on the other hand had her bitter feeling which was abandoned, rise again. The peculiar feeling bubbling in her hear, couldn't accept the fact that Jungkook was talking and smiling to none other than Sarah. That dangerous women. Yn had heard about her being homewrecker.

Nayeon said that once she had an affair with a married man. Here she was watching Jungkook talking not any other woman but her.

Yn turned around and left, leaving a message that she couldn't come to deck because of work. She couldn't face him.

SHE COULD NOT.

It would look pathetic to even go to them.

Nayeon was shocked as she saw yn coming back early. Ynn always had the trust on both of the girls so she didn't hesitate to tell her.

"I saw Sarah talking with Jungkook!!" It was all took Nayeon to burst out.

"What The Fuck!! I told you that bitch is cooking something" Nayeon knew Sarah very well, infact when Sana told her that Sarah was asking for yn's birthday, she knew something was wrong.

"It doesn't matter, he shouldn't be that fool to fall in her trap" YN exclaimed. She was not defending Sarah but a successful CEO can't even differentiate between acting and real, how stupid he must be.

"We don't clap with one hand Nayeon"

"Then go, talk to him and clear it out before it gets complicated" Nayeon made a point but yn wasn't satisfied.

"Jungkook are you cheating on me with that hoe? Damn!!! There goes my dignity" yn said with a mimic voice on how she would confront him, she felt pathetic honestly.

Jungkook and Yn were chilling in Jungkook's house. Unknowingly yn felt that Jungkook was distancing himself as if she was his least priority, as if she was not even there.

"I think I should go" yn suddenly exclaimed making Jungkook look at her in confusion.

He blinked "Why?"

"Cuz I don't think you're a bit interested staying with me" yn said with a harsh tone. She was enraged, Jungkook had talked to many womens no doubt but he never acted up like that.

"What's up with you? You literally ignore me as if I'm never there."

Jungkook was little nervous by this point he didn't know what to say and that somehow gave the answers to yn. It cleared her mind that Jungkook is having an affair with Sarah.

"I'm leaving!!!" Yn turned around, she had enough of this bullshit.

"Wait, Yn!!! Are you serious? You want to go just because you think I'm ignoring you? You don't even care about me"

Yn had frown on her face now, was he trying to blame it on her?. She turned around again to face him.

"I saw you walking out of the deck!! You just threw me under the bus and walked away" Jungkook was fuming as well as yn.

"Well no shit you deserved that"

It looked like everything stopped, his face had sullen now with tears threatening to come out as his ruthless girlfriend turned around and walked away from his door.

Rainfall has started off as June's first week came by. Yn was heading towards Jungkook's office. She felt guilty for lashing out on him. When it was her fault too for not confronting him.

She was going to confront him now. She had to make it clear-

"I regret meeting her" that's what she heard, it was Jungkook's voice. She opened the door slowly and what she saw next broke her heart.

Sarah was there, sitting on Jungkook's lap in in office. He was talking about her.

Yn couldn't believe, she stole her man just in few days. NO! Jungkook fell in her trap just in few days. Was he that stupid? Was this he wanted all along.

Yn was about to slam the door and confront him until what she heard chilled her bones.

"I could even kill her for you baby!!"

She was not disgusted, not sad but terrified now. For her own life. He sat there as if he didn't just threaten to take her life. Yn never knew she would be seeing this things before her own birthday.

As for yn knew now she has to go far......Far away from him.

Author's note: Whoosh!!!! The drama is unfolding. Guys why do you think Jungkook is distancing from yn?? Let me know in comments. Get ready for next chapter, Yandere Jungkook is on the way.

And one more thing, THANK YOU SO MUCH ARMYS!!. 250+ likes and 10 reblogs. Never knew I'll get this much love in my first series. Keep loving the series, much more love to you guys. 💟💟💟

Taglist:- @princess-sunshyn , @douknowbts , @ane102 , @jk97bam , @bangtanpov , @dodoneck , @hellbornsworld , @heyyymin , @loumin908

Comment down if you wanted to be added to taglist.

prev - next

#bts army #bts yandere #jungkook imagine #yandere #yandere jjk #bts jungkook #bts angst #bts imagines #yandere jungkook #jungkook fanfic #jungkook smut #jungkook series

77 notes · View notes

bi-bard · 1 year

Text

First Impressions - Hannibal Lecter Imagine [NBC's Hannibal]

Title: First Impressions

Pairing: Hannibal Lecter X Reader

Word Count: 937 words

Warning(s): none

Summary: Many knew the story of Hannibal's crime and arrest. However, the story of (Y/n) and Hannibal starts long before that. And the first to hear it was Dr. Bedelia Du Maurier.

Author's Note: I thought this would be more interesting than creating a simple story.

MORE OF THIS OC HERE!

------------------------

Hannibal and Bedelia's therapy sessions were far from the normal that Bedelia had known in her experience.

She would have loved to shrug such an observation off as simply her mind's immediate reaction to treating a colleague. However, she had to eventually dismiss such an idea.

This strangeness was something very different. Something about Hannibal was very different.

But she felt like she had few options other than continuing the man's therapy.

That day had been strange for an entirely different reason.

She had been sitting across from him for a while. Hannibal had fallen into some distracted silence.

"Something has captured your attention," she noted. "What is it?"

Hannibal let out a quiet chuckle before sitting up a bit straighter in his seat. "I'm afraid that 'it' is not an it, but a 'they'."

"A person," she replied. He nodded. "You meet new people almost every day. What makes this person so different?"

"For the first time, I cannot find the words to explain it," he continued. "They simply... are."

"I don't believe I have ever seen you speechless before."

Hannibal's grin grew just slightly.

It was a moment of pure honesty on his part.

It may have sounded harsh, but (Y/n) was nothing extraordinary. They seemed like every other person that had been around them at the time. Hannibal found trying to explain why they had so easily caught his eye similar to explaining to a toddler why one would need to go to bed at a reasonable time. So simple on the surface, yet seemingly more complicated when someone begins to question it further.

Maybe it had been (Y/n)'s kindness. They looked at everything around them with such genuine interest that it could've knocked the wind out of someone who looked in their eyes. They seemed so eager to help anyone. Hannibal could see that in the admittedly short amount of time that they spent together.

Maybe it was simply carried themselves. Their smile never seemed to dip. Hannibal felt childish for believing it, but he could've sworn that their eyes sparkled. There was something about their excitement that brought a sense of comfort. Hannibal thought it was affecting the whole room, but it could have just been him and he would've never been able to tell.

"How did you meet?"

His attention was suddenly turned back to Bedelia when she spoke. She tried to fight the knowing smile that so desperately wanted to show. She had never seen Hannibal in such a... distracted state, but she felt safe assuming the cause of it.

"At an art gallery," Hannibal replied.

"A guest?"

"An employee," he corrected.

"I see," she nodded. "Tell me about your... chance interaction."

"I had asked about a painting," he explained. He felt a need to avoid the specific details. He wanted those to be only his. "They told me about some small details. They seemed to cut themself off when they realized how many details they were sharing. They tried to apologize, but I was... intrigued."

"Was that the entire conversation?"

"No."

An amused smile formed.

"It feels strange to admit this, but I did continue pestering them while I was there," he continued. "I was curious about how much they knew."

"And?"

"The knowledge came from much more than simple education. It came from an interest that would have started a long time ago. Decades."

"Did you ask?"

"Yes," he nodded. "They told me that their mother was the reason that they knew so much."

"Many of us can unknowingly carry the habits and hobbies of our parents," Bedelia said. "The ones that we are aware of are arguably the most important."

"It would seem so," he replied.

"Please, continue your story."

"I watched them go around to help everyone else whenever needed. And then, they would come back and continue our conversation. As if there had never been an interruption in the first place.

"I promised to come back another day and continue our conversation."

"They seemed happy about the idea?"

"Yes."

Again, Bedelia had to fight that knowing smile.

Hannibal was smitten.

Intrigued and smitten could become mixed in the mind. Many could be misguided by mere intrigue. Hence why they would lose interest when the object of their affection had nothing left for them to learn about.

However, Hannibal never seemed to mix those thoughts together. He seemed entirely aware of the source of his thoughts. But this time, Bedelia could see the mix occurring in his mind. The question was whether or not he could also see the mix.

He could.

And he didn't mind it.

"What's their name," Bedelia asked.

"(Y/n)."

Hannibal almost said the name like it was made of glass. If he said it too harshly, it would shatter, and he would lose the right to speak it. That knowing smile was beginning to win the battle on Bedelia's face.

"What are you going to do when you see (Y/n) again?" she continued.

"Ask them more questions," he explained simply.

"Invite them to dinner?"

There was a small pause before Hannibal answered, "Perhaps."

She nodded.

Something about seeing Hannibal in such a state brought a sense of comfort. Like it provided evidence against a theory that Bedelia feared would be true.

"I'd like to hear about how your next interaction goes," she said. "To ensure that this becomes a healthy, fulfilling relationship in your life and theirs."

Hannibal nodded.

Bedelia decided then that she may be able to become comfortable with seeing Hannibal in such a state for a while.

This was a kind of strange that she could make sense of.

------------------------

Navigation Guide

What I Write For

Some Original Characters

#hannibal imagine #hannibal fanfiction #hannibal x reader #hannibal lecter x reader #hannibal lecter imagine #hannibal lecter fanfiction #imagine #fanfiction #x reader #mads mikkelsen imagine #mads mikkelsen x reader #mads mikkelsen fanfiction #bedelia du maurier imagine #bedelia du maurier fanfiction #bedelia du maurier x reader

459 notes · View notes

nothorses · 1 year

Note

Aren't you the one with the weird ass misogyny kink

This is such a perfect example of how fucking stupid callout culture is, actually.

For context, nearly two years ago now, a few blogs known for picking fights & starting harassment campaigns picked a fight & started a harassment campaign against first one transmasc blogger, then a bunch of other transmascs they harassed about reblogging his post who either didn't respond to them, or who responded unfavorably.

I won't get into the nitty-gritty here, but I did elsewhere [1] [2] and so have a few other folks.

I wasn't the original person called out. I was tacked on after the fact because I didn't respond.

What I've been "called out" for since then is, essentially, a bunch of complete bullshit made up by people who are pissed off that I encouraged people to think critically about the callout posts they came across.

Even among those lies, my sex life, kinks, fetishes, whatever- none of it has ever come up. Because I don't engage with that online, I never have, and I never will, for exactly this reason.

Would you be surprised if I told you this wasn't the first time I'd been accused of the "crimes" that original person was accused of?

You probably shouldn't be! This shit happens all the time, and it's only a natural progression of the callout culture it all stems from: one person has some shit they said taken out of context and painted in a bad light by a vindictive and usually transphobic internet loser, everyone who doesn't publicly disavow them immediately and without question is guilty by association, and what reason do they have to defend this person anyway, except so they can get away with the same thing? They must be doing it too!

And this ask especially is phrased in such a blatantly manipulate way. There's no good way to answer this: either I say "yes, but" and people stop thinking or caring there, or I say "no, here's what really happened" and I look weak and dubious for defending myself at all. The accusation has been made, the question has been asked, and now everything I say is with the assumption that this is something I am responsible for proving or disproving.

It's stupid and pointless and it's all fucking made up. It's designed to run on instinctive disgust and outrage, and what better conduit is there for rage and disgust than trans people? Especially trans people who talk about being trans.

And even putting all that aside: who fucking cares?

Who cares if one dude gets off to some shit he, in real life, both suffers from and actively tries to combat? Why are you so concerned with the private sexual fantasies of one random internet stranger? Why is it so important to you that everyone in the world know what this one dude thinks is hot when acted out between two consenting adults?

Come off anon and tell me all your kinks, anon. Tell me every single thing you have ever been turned on by, everything you've masturbated to, and why. I want detailed notes. I want links to porn. If you've made art, written fanfic, roleplayed- I want to see it.

C'mon, if this should be publicly available knowledge, let's start with you. It shouldn't matter as long as none of it's weird or off-putting to anyone else, right? You don't need to hide anything, right? There's nothing there you'd be embarrassed about, nothing you'd rather keep private, right? So what's the hold-up, why haven't you done this already? Why are you on anon to begin with; what are you hiding?

If anyone's the "sex freak" or whatever, anon, it's you. Nobody fucking needs this information about anyone, especially if they aren't sexually involved with each other. It's a massive invasion of privacy, and much more importantly it is textbook sexual harassment.

Anyway. Hi, voc and w-oc. I should be more surprised to see you two in my inbox, but I guess yall are obsessive enough to respond to, literally, a couple of tags on one reblog containing undefined, contextless acronyms of your urls. Hope you talk to a therapist about that someday.

#harassment #callout culture #wont tag the acronyms here because I know that'll put it in tags- but like that post was a reblog anyway #so whats the deal. are they searching my blog for every variation of their urls and names every single day??#just... so fucking nuts. jfc.

529 notes · View notes

sleekervae · 5 months

Text

New York Romantic .4

Masterlist

pairing: Tom Blyth x ballerina!oc

summary: tom finds noelle locked out of her apartment

word count: 5849

taglist: @watercolorskyy @carolanns-world @alana4610

warnings: alcohol consumption

Winter break was just around the corner, the days were becoming shorter but the assignments were getting longer. It was the final crunch before the holiday season and everybody -- even the professors -- were feeling the strain of long hours, chilled nights and the impending threat of black ice.

"One! And two! Up! Up! Steven! Lift your toes higher! You're a scorpion!" Stanis' voice boomed across the studio, a stark contrast to the gentle, peppy piano melody playing on the loudspeaker. He watched each of his dancers with a swift eagle eye, always the first to call out when someone was sloppy or off balance.

"Very good," he nodded as the music came to a close, turning then to another student in the second row, "Amber! Not so good. Are you okay?"

Amber, a petite young ginger, nodded sheepishly behind Noelle, "I was off balance," she admitted.

Stanis nodded, "Thank you... for stating the truth," he mumbled at the end, his accent someone becoming thicker the more he lowered his voice. He glanced at his wrist watch, then to the evening display just outside the window, "Let's call it a day, here! Go home! Ice your legs! Relax! We'll take it from the top tomorrow!"

The students had scattered before he could even finish, rushing to their lockers to grab their things and change for the frigid weather outside.

Noelle left with Iseul, the latter furiously texting on her phone as they walked over to their lockers, "How're you doing with the arts and poly paper?" she asked.

"Slowly," Noelle admitted, "How about you?"

"Like rubbing a cheese grater over my forehead," Iseul shrugged back, "It's all theoretical, philosophical nonsense I was hoping to leave behind in high school,"

Noelle cocked a brow, "You studied philosophy in high school?" she asked.

"To my chagrin, yes," Iseul simpered, "Take a note from me: don't send your kids to private school,"

"Noted," Noelle nodded, "Who're you texting?"

"Josh from modern. He's having a party next week," Iseul replied.

"After finals?"

"Mmhm. You wanna come with me?"

"What night?"

"Friday,"

Noelle grimaced, "We have showcase rehearsals til' six,"

"Yeah, but we also need a reason to let off some steam..." Iseul trailed off, feigning a pout her way, "Bianca will come,"

"I'll ask her later," they came to Noelle's locker, "Text me the details, I'll let you know,"

Iseul shrugged, walking backwards to her own locker, "Alrighty. Get home safe, Elles!"

"See ya tomorrow!" Noelle opened her locker and pulled out her bag, pulling out her sneakers, her jacket, digging through her purse for her transit card until she came to a harrowing realization.

She was missing her house key...

Tom had debated back and forth on going home for the holidays, it would be the first time he'd spend Christmas without his family and while he knew he would miss them terribly, the money was too much to splurge on -- on top of all his other expenses. He had finally found a job at least, a desk clerk at the library on campus. It paid minimum wage and he worked to the extent of his student visa, but earning some money was definitely better than having none. Plus it gave him time to focus on his own homework. The funds his mum had wired over definitely softened the buffer in his expenses.

He pulled his wool scarf tighter around his neck, his gloves doing little to ward off the frigid winds that had swept over New York. Not even crammed in a subway car with total strangers could warm him up. The weather had reported threats of snow but so far Mother Nature was holding out on them.

Doris had her feet propped up on her desk and a bowl of fresh popcorn in her lap when Tom ducked inside. Her eyes wide behind her glasses as she checked the time; 7:43pm.

"Hi Doris!"

"Well, well! You're home late!" she chided, a small smile playing at her lips, "What was her name?"

Tom chuckled back, approaching the desk, "Wasn't that kind of night. I was working," he replied.

"Oooh! That's right! I forgot you're a part of the system now!" she awed, "Well, don't let them push you over! If they give you any trouble you send them my way!" she pointed a bony, French manicured finger at him.

"No problem," Tom grinned back, "What's the plot tonight?" he pointed to her computer.

Doris enthusiastically sat up in her seat, passing him the bowl of popcorn, "Oh! It's Days of Our Lives! Stefano gave Marlena mind-altering drugs while she was sleeping, and he whisked her away into this fantasy romance world. But she's so vulnerable in this state she becomes possessed by the devil himself!" she whispered at the end.

Tom cocked a brow, too amused by her mannerisms to point out how terrible a flop that plot line was. He nodded nevertheless.

"Sounds interesting," he chuckled.

Doris rolled her eyes, "Oh, don't shit with me. It's completely ridiculous I know," she chided back.

"Don't spoil it for me, yeah?"

"In your dreams, buster," she smirked back, "Hey -- what was that show your dad worked on?"

"Emmerdale,"

"Was it any good?"

"According to The Telegraph, yeah," he nodded.

Doris leaned over her keyboard, "Well, don't tell nobody, but my husband's second cousin's nephew just introduced me to pirating on these special websites. He's gonna set up a VPN for me -- whatever that is," she whispered, "I'm gonna give it a go!"

Tom simpered with amusement, "That's great. Lemme' know what you think," he started backing off, "I'm assuming the elevator's still down?"

Doris nodded with an exaggerated sigh, "When my brother's wife's cousin gets a hold of her son in law, they're gonna give me a discount to get it fixed. He's an electrician," she replied, "For now, you just gotta leg it,"

"No worries. Take care, Doris!" and he started for the stairs.

"Oh! Tom!" she called him back before he disappeared, "You wanna check in on that dancer across the hall from you? She lost her key today and who knows what time her roommate's getting home,"

Tom's brows furrowed, his curiosity simmering, "Noelle or Bianca?" he asked.

"Noelle. Poor thing was so dejected when she came in," she shook her head, "I offered her a seat to wait here but she's just sitting in the hallway,"

"Don't you have a spare key?" he asked.

She scoffed back, rolling her eyes, "If my husband wasn't so cheap, yes. But now I gotta get a new key made for her -- because that's not gonna cost him less,"

Tom nodded sympathetically, "No problem. I'll see you later,"

He hopped his way up the stairs, the textbooks in his bag weighing down on his shoulder but the pep in his step was surprisingly fresh. And sure enough, he found Noelle sitting in front of her door. Her eyes were closed, her bag a folded mess beside her and her phone clutched tightly in her hand. Tom was worried she may've been a sleep, but as he approached closer she opened one eye, sitting up and stretching when she saw him.

"Oh, hey!" she greeted groggily.

"Hi," Tom crouched down before her, and amused smile on his lips, "Did I wake you?"

"No, I was just resting my eyes,"

"I see," he nodded, "I've heard you had a day,"

She scoffed, shaking her head, "You don't know the half of it,"

He simpered, "What happened?"

"I don't know!" she shrugged listlessly, "I locked the door when I left this morning. Somewhere between 7am and 6:45pm I lost my key along the way,"

His brows raised, "You've been out here for nearly an hour?" he nearly exclaimed.

Noelle nodded, "More like forty-five minutes,"

"Where's Bianca?"

"Rehearsing for our Christmas showcase. I can't disturb her right now," she replied, "It's okay, I've just been watching shit on Youtube,"

He smiled sympathetically, standing up straight, "Well, I'm here now. So you can hide out with me until she gets back," he said.

Noelle smiled sheepishly, feeling her cheeks burn as his gaze bore into her, "Oh, don't worry about it. Bianca'll be home soon," she assured him.

"Forty five minutes is already too long," he reasoned, "I'll feel better anyway knowing you're not out here by yourself,"

She smirked back, "Aww, are you worried about me, Tom?" she teased.

He tried so hard not to smile, rolling his eyes in an attempt to cover it up. So he extended his hand to her, "I'm an Aquarius; a smart person told me we're stubborn about this stuff,"

Noelle rolled her eyes, though nevertheless she held her hand up for him to grab. Tom pulled her to her feet, grunting as the force shoved his back into the wall and Noelle into his chest. They paused momentarily, gazes fixed in a time lock, her free hand suddenly burning against the wool covering his chest. Bashfulness pulled at their lips as Noelle stepped away and dusted herself off while Tom adjusted his jumper and coat.

"Sorry about that," she chuckled.

"No! It's okay!" he assured her, "Are you okay?"

"I'm great," she picked up her bag, silently hoping he wouldn't pick off the pink tinging her cheeks, "After you,"

They stepped inside his loft, the room a little messier than what Tom would've liked but Noelle didn't seem to mind as she kicked her shoes off and sunk back into the couch, letting out an exasperated, heavy sigh. Tom laughed to himself as he peeled off his coat, to which Noelle pouted back.

"I can hear you, ya know," she called, mock accusation slipping from her tongue, "I'm glad my suffering is so entertaining for you!"

"My sincerest apologies," he simpered.

"Is Sunny here?" she asked, looking around the space curiously.

Tom shook his head, "He's out at a symposium tonight, some fancy composer I've never heard of. He'll be back in a bit. Are you hungry?"

"I could eat," she nodded, "What's cooking, Gordon Ramsay?"

Tom sauntered over to the fridge, swinging the door open as his eyes glazed over leftovers, and whatever sparse vegetables and random containers they had in there. All Sunny really had was his labelled orange juice, a six pack of fruit yogurt and some carrots -- while Tom barely had anything of his own in there. He really needed to go shopping.

"Alright, we're ordering in," he decided, coming to sit on the couch beside her, smiling coyly at her, "Don't worry, I won't tell anyone,"

"How kind," she tittered, her head falling back against the cushion, "Whatever you feel like, I'm not picky,"

"... Sushi?"

"Love it,"

Forty minutes later they were both situated on the couch, Tom's laptop set up in front of them as BoJack Horseman played out on Netflix. They could hear the rain pattering against the window, the walls humming as the heat had kicked into high gear and in the moment the air held a nice, cozy warmth. The duo sat beside each other, his legs stretched out across the floor while she curled hers up close to her chest, shoulders just inches away from each other as they ate their dinner.

"So, what're you doing for Christmas?" she asked over the commotion from the show, "You going home?"

Tom shook his head, "Can't, I waited too long to book and the prices are ridiculous," he replied.

"Shit, I'm so sorry," she awed.

"Don't be," he shrugged back, "I'm just gonna stay here,"

She sat up abruptly, "Not by yourself, are you?"

"Yeah. Sunny's going home for a week. It's alright, though," he assured with a swift nod, "Doris was offering me Christmas dinner at her place -- with her husband, her second cousin's nephew, her aunt twice removed or something..."

Noelle chuckled softly, "Are you gonna' go?" she asked curiously.

"I don't know. I might just fake sick to get out of it," he admitted sheepishly, "What about you? You going back to Maine?"

"No, my family are coming down. My uncle got a bonus at work so they're staying at the Ritz," she flourished her hand in the air, feigning an expression of shock and awe.

Tom laughed softly, "Sounds lovely,"

"Right? My aunt's all excited," she popped an avocado roll into her mouth.

"Are you gonna' stay with them?"

"Probably. But they're here just for a week," she glanced back at him, "I'll be hanging around though, if you wanna go hang out here and there?"

Tom was flattered, a little taken aback, but he considered the option. Spending any more time with Noelle was surely a plus no matter the occasion, though on the other hand she didn't want to take her away from her family.

"Oh, I don't -- I don't wanna impose on your visit like that," he replied.

"It wouldn't be imposing," Noelle shrugged back, "I just... I don't like seeing anybody alone during the holidays... and you're kinda cool to be around, so..." she glanced aside sheepishly.

He cocked a brow, "Noelle Berendina thinks I'm cool? Gosh, my mum's never gonna believe me!" he gawked.

Noelle rolled her eyes, slapping his arm gently, "Yeah, you are cool, you friggin' dork! And anyone who says otherwise has to fight me!"

He smirked back at her, "You get locked out of your own apartment... but I'm the dork?" he chuckled.

She feigned a pout, crossing her arms like a child and sinking back in the couch cushions, "I'm not saying you're wrong... but you're so mean," she grumbled under her breath.

"Oh, you wanna see mean, do you?" he leaned over and snatched a yam roll from her box, popping it into his mouth with a shit-eating grin.

Noelle gasped dramatically, her hand gripping her chest, "You son of bitch! How dare you!" she gaped, "I'm gonna call up your mom,"

"So you're a tattletale now?" he quipped.

"Only when someone needs to be tattled on," she reached over and took one of his salmon rolls for revenge.

He feigned his own insult, shaking his head mockingly at her while his teeth clenched down on his inner lip, trying not to laugh, "Okay, okay, if I think about your offer can we call it a truce?"

"Okay, deal. Truce," she offered him her hand, giggling bashfully as he shook on it with her, "Anyway, how are you doing with finals?"

"Alright, actually," he shrugged, "I got a paper due, we're performing monologues, and we're having a small improv show on Friday,"

"Oh really?" she shuffled closer, "You do much improv?"

"I'm not too bad," he admitted, "It took a long time for me to be okay with looking insane in front of people,"

"Well, isn't that a major part of being an actor? You can't be the one-dimensional cool guy all the time -- ya know, unless you're Ryan Gosling," she replied.

"Exactly," he nodded, "The only one I'm kind of worried about is Jordan,"

"Ichabod Crane?" she smirked, "Stanis didn't like his cool-guy-with-back-against-the-wall attitude,"

Tom snickered, "He was just doing it to impress the other girls,"

"Really? You could've fooled me!" she gawked sarcastically, "He's only one in a long line of cool guys who tried to play it off in dance class,"

"I promise, he's a nice guy," he assured her, "He's just... I don't know,"

Noelle gave an endearing smile, "Well anyway, if I go to a performance, I'm more likely to go for you than for him anyway," she replied.

A warmth swelled in his chest, and Tom pondered his next words carefully before he spoke, "I know you have rehearsals Fridays, but would you like to come to the show?" he asked.

Noelle cocked a brow, mulling it over in her head. On her baser instincts she wanted to shout an enthusiastic 'hell yea!', but her own showcase was approaching quickly.

"Hmm, what time does it start?"

"Six, in the McCallum Pavilion,"

She nodded slowly, "I finish at six usually, but if I sprint I could make it a little after -- if they accept late entries," she replied, "I'm also supposed to go to this party after... but -- would you be down to come with?"

Tom was a little unsure at first, he was still shy, didn't know many people, and if a lot of these people were dancers then they may have been wondering why he was there.

Though it was as if Noelle could read his mind, "There's gonna be some other acting and music students there, not just dancers," she assured him.

"Alright," he nodded, "So, you come to the improv show and I come to the party with you after?"

She shrugged lithely, "Well, if you wanna' make it sound so transactional..." she feigned an eye roll.

Tom shook his head, "I didn't --" but he stopped when he saw her coy smirk. Rolling his eyes he nudged her, his elbow knocking gently into her side, "Shut up,"

"Make me," she shot back snidely.

He pondered it for a moment -- just a moment -- how close she was, her cocky attitude dripping off her tongue and her dark brown eyes goading him into mischief. His own eyes averted to her lips, it was only for a second, but he thought about how soft she might feel, how she may taste of soy sauce and ginger, and how quickly he should shut her up so easily.

But he didn't, he wouldn't dare step over that boundary so hastily. So his only retaliation was to steal another one of her sushi rolls.

Time became a lesser construct as the night went on. Sunny had come home around nine-thirty, exhausted and hungry as he kicked off his shoes. He didn't give a second glance to the mismatched laced sneakers at the door, only stopping when he sat the back of Tom's head peaking from behind the couch. Curled up beside him was Noelle, the both of them fast asleep in front of the rolling credits for BoJack Horseman.

Friday night rolled around sooner than many students would've liked. So many projects were due, so many deadlines were crossed and the majority of students were burning at the end of their candle.

The first year drama students had their first showcase tonight; an improv show that was only really open to family and friends. The McCallum Pavilion was a small studio space not often looked upon in conjunction with the rest of the campus, not even Tom knew of its existence until he was brought in for rehearsals. It was a relatively large space, dark indigo walls and dark, heavy hanging curtains that shrouded a risen platform. There was a single spotlight that was operated by a crew member and six rows of ten chairs set up before the platform.

By ten to six the chairs were already being filled, handfuls of faces that Tom didn't know as he peaked out from behind the curtain. The only face he could recognize was Sunny, his visage murky between passing bodies but he looked enthusiastic nonetheless. He kept his bag on the empty chair beside him and told people he was saving the spot for a friend.

"Tom!" his instructor hissed from behind, drawing him back from the curtain by his arm, "What're you doing over here? They're running warmups, we're on in ten minutes!"

"Sorry! I'm going!" he nearly tripped over himself as he dashed for the green room.

Simultaneously, Noelle had just stuffed her dance bag into her locker (ensuring her new key was safely tucked inside) before taking off in a sprint down the hallway. She had begged and bartered with Stanis all week to let her go early today, and after some pushing and kissing ass he eventually agreed. Bianca and Iseul were of course perplexed when she dashed out of the studio.

The entirety of the campus could be walked in about twenty minutes one way, but it was already five-to-six and she still had little idea where the McCallum Pavilion was. But her best start was the drama department, and from there she would have to figure it out.

Sure enough at the stroke of six the lights came down and the spotlight focused in on the stage. The audience gave a roaring applause as Tom's instructor, Charles, took to the stage. A portly older gentleman, he kept his hands clasped behind his back, smiling gleefully at the crowd through his thin-rimmed glasses.

"Thank you everyone! Thank you! I appreciate you all coming out tonight to support our first years. They've been working incredibly hard all semester to bring you this show, the first of many that they will be performing for a live audience," he was very soft spoken, though his voice carried a great range all the way to the back of the studio, "Our first performance I lovingly refer to as 'Change'. We're going to have two performers come up, an audience member gives them a scenario they have to act out. And when they hear 'Change!', they have to change the scenario on the fly. Please note, the audience is not allowed to shout at the actors, we have a designated 'change' person,"

Noelle had followed the campus map on her phone as best as she could, finally meandering her way down an obscure hallway and sure enough there was a sandwich board outside the door advertising for the show.

Tom and another student, Marcelle, were the first ones selected to come up on the stage. The audience cheered as they came under the spotlight, and Tom couldn't help but wipe his palms on the back of his pants, hoping his nerves wouldn't betray him.

He didn't hear the click of the door opening, nor did he see Noelle slip into the crowd and find her place next to Sunny. Sunny lit up as soon as he saw her and moved his bag.

"Hey,"

"Hi," they both whispered, "Did I miss anything?" she asked.

"You're just in time, they're starting," he replied.

An audience member was selected and Tom and Marcelle were given the scenario: two people in an old folks home trying to watch TV. Marcelle took a seat in the pre-positioned chair and Tom hunched his back. He started waddling over to Marcelle, his hand positioned as though he had a remote in his hand and his eyes were squinting.

"Marcelle?"

"Yes?"

"Marcelle, can you hear me!?" he squawked.

Marcelle was slightly hunched in her own chair, "Yes, I can hear you Tom!" she boomed back.

Tom turned to the audience, pointing his invisible remote at them, "I'm trying to change the channel on the television!"

"It's not on, Tom!" she snapped, agitation in her voice.

Then a voice behind the curtain shouted, "Change!" and Marcelle's dialogue switched.

"It's never been on, Tom!"

"Change!"

"It's a microwave!" and the crowd began to laugh.

Tom's face twisted in anguish, "It's a microwa- oh! Oh the crows feet is getting to me now!" he cried, shuffling back and forth like an old man, "I don't know left from right!"

"Change!"

"I don't know right from left!"

"Change!"

"I don't know to from fro!"

"Change!"

"I don't know if I have a fro!" and they paused as the audience laughed some more. Noelle and Sunny were plenty amused already at the debauchery on stage.

"You're bald!" Marcelle shouted back at him, obviously go for a bit, "For goodness sake, Tom! I've gotta find myself a new roommate! I'm making a complaint!" and she went to get up from her seat.

"Change!"

And she sat down again, "I'm gonna sit right here, and hope that you die quickly!"

Tom gasped in horror, bemusing the crowd even more, "Marcelle, why are you always so mean to me!?" he cried.

"Change!"

"Why're you always so lovely to me?" and he perked up immediately.

"Change!"

And he sauntered over to where Marcelle was sitting, "I would like you to tell me a story," and he looked to the audience, "About me when I was younger. What was I like before I was bald?" on his last word his gaze fixed on Sunny, and then Noelle right beside him. He swallowed a nervous chuckle, unable to help but grin like a fool nonetheless.

Marcelle sighed heavily, slouching in her chair and dropping her head back before he stared up at Tom, "You were a brave man --!"

"Change!"

"You were a coward!"

"Change!"

"You were an electrician!"

"Change!"

"You were a pilot!"

"Change!"

"You were a storm trooper!" Tom had his hands on his hips, nodding as he looked quite pleased with that answer. Noelle couldn't help but laugh along with the crowd, drawn in by Tom's charisma and pairing unhinged behaviour.

"Change!"

Marcelle huffed, "You were the type of man who leaves his wife at the altar!" and the audience let out a round of hissing and ooohs. At that Tom's demeanour changed, picking at threads of shame and dismay. Though he was doing everything in his power not to laugh.

"Jesus Christ!"

"Change!"

"Son of a bitch!"

"Change!"

"Lovely biscuit!"

"Change!"

"My mother!" he suddenly shouted, his voice breaking towards the end. Marcelle bit her lip as not to laugh as well.

"What about your mother?" she asked.

Tom turned back to her, "I can see --"

"Change!"

And he jumped back, waving his arms as he looked around, "Oh my gosh! I can't see!"

"Change!"

And he straightened his posture, "H-How dare you remind me of that!" he shouted at Marcelle.

Marcelle came forward in her seat, "She was my sister!" she shouted back, "She never got over it!"

"But you're my wife, Marcelle!" he exclaimed.

"And she never forgave me!"

"Change!"

"She forgave me quite quickly!"

At that Charles came out from behind the curtain, closing the scene. Tom and Marcelle took a bow and were ushered off the stage to make room for the next pair. The scene was no more than under two minutes but Noelle was plenty entertained. She was captivated, utterly amused, and pleasantly surprised by Tom's performance. She hadn't imagined he could be so dramatic and comically absurd for the life of her.

As the curtains fell on the captivating improv show, the buzz of excitement lingered in the air. People spilled out, chatter filled with laughter and lingering anticipation. Tom had linked up with Noelle and Sunny afterwards, the both of them singing his praises.

By the time eight o'clock had rolled around, Tom, Noelle, and Sunny had made it across town to the house party. Josh, a second year from modern contemporary, was a close enough acquaintance that he didn't bat an eye when Noelle came strolling in with her friends.. Within the confines were ten or twelve other kids, all within their age. Some of them Tom recognized as the other ballerinas, some he knew from his own department. The house smelled distinctively of air freshener and hot food, pizza from down the street no doubt. There was a stereo somewhere blasting hits off of Billboard's Top 100.

"Hey!" Bianca's voice suddenly boomed, "You made it!" the blonde ballerina threw her arms around Noelle, nearly falling into her in fact as her socks slipped on the varnished hardwood. Noelle chuckled, though she could smell the bitter tang of vodka and ale coming off her breath already.

"Yep. I told you," Noelle said, pulling her upright on her feet, "B, what time did you start drinking?"

"Right when I got here,"

"And that was...?"

"Oh, about six-thirty," she replied with a drunken giggle.

"And you couldn't wait for me?" she gawked back.

Bianca ignored her, her hazy focus then zeroing on the boys behind her, "Oh my gosh! Tom, you came!" she suddenly had her arms around him in a tight hug, it was the most attention she had paid to him in the time they'd known each other.

"Hi Bianca!" he chuckled, a little taken aback at first.

"And Sunjit, too!" she then went into hug Sunny, "You never come to these things!"

Sunny smiled bashfully, shrugging his shoulders. Truth be told, he didn't think he'd really fit in with the dancers and actors, "... I just figured, it's the end of the term, so..."

Bianca's face lit up, "Then, we have to get you a drink. Come on!" she took his hand and lead him off in another direction. Tom and Noelle glanced at each other, he had a bewildered grin on his face while she was shaking her head.

"That's the friendliest she's ever been with me!" he awed.

She chuckled sheepishly, "Her demeanour usually melts with some vodka,"

Regardless of Bianca's lightweight mannerisms, the kids dispersed through the party, slowly getting to mingle and chat with the other kids. Tom had gotten acquainted with a few more students from different departments, he had made the acquaintance of one particular musician, Connie, a saxophone major in her third year. However, he found his gaze kept shifting, always searching out for Noelle's face in the crowd.

He eventually spotted her on the couch, engrossed in conversation with another guy. He had seen him around a few times, another dancer but he wasn't a ballet major. He could see how she laughed, how her shoulders bounced and her eyes fluttered, so entertained by whatever joke the other guy was telling her. Tom didn't like feeling jealous, he knew he had no right to be so but he couldn't help himself. Resent was bubbling in his gut, on the skim of it was insecurity because this guy was quite attractive. There was an aura of self-assurance surrounding him that Tom longed to possess. He aspired to captivate and amuse Noelle just as effortlessly as this person did.

"Hey, Tom," Iseul suddenly appeared from behind him, "You okay?"

Tom glanced at her, nodding swiftly, "Yeah, yeah, I'm good,"

Iseul's gaze fixed on Noelle and the other boy, and her face fell, "That's Daniel. He's a hip hop dancer, but the professors call him 'slack-ass'," she mumbled, "Honestly... I think Noelle could do way better..." at that she turned her gaze back to Tom, a coy smile teasing at her lips.

At one point a game of truth or dare had broken out, silly, juvenile questions were asked and immature, embarrassing dares were completed. When Tom was put on the spot, he should have known better than to trust Josh, the host, and his precarious questions.

“You’ve got to be kidding!” Josh practically howled with laughter, doubling over himself and nearly falling off the couch with laughter. Iseul glowered, about to tell him off but Bianca beat her to it.

“Shut up, Josh. It’s not that big of a deal,”

Josh sat up straight, looking down at Bianca as she sat on the floor. He wiped the tears from his eyes, his laughter finally dying down, “Hey, I’m your senior – you gotta’ talk to me with a bit more respect,” he prodded teasingly, but Noelle only rolled her eyes, her previous lighthearted spirit vanishing upon Josh's insensitive comment.

Her tone was excitingly stern, but not rude, “Yeah? I’ll show more respect when you show more respect to your juniors...”

Iseul laughed, shaking off the flurry of red in her cheeks, “Don’t worry about me, B. I don’t think I can take Josh very seriously, not when I highly doubt he’d even know how to make me or any other girl cum,”

The circle of friends in the basement erupted into comical ‘oohs’ and ‘ahhs’.

“Ouch!” one of Josh's friends said, leaning across the floor to high-five her.

Josh stuttered, failing at serving a good comeback, “It’s okay, Josh,” Noelle laughed, her sympathetic tone condescending, “maybe there’s a tutorial online,”

“I know how to make a girl cum!” he snapped. Everyone just laughed, even Tom and Sunny, ignoring him and carrying on with the game.

"Iseul, it's your turn," another girl, Monica, reminded them.

Iseul's dark eyes flitted across the bleary faces of her friends. In that moment she singled out Tom, partly because he had gone unnoticed by others and partly because she was feeling mischievous. "Tom, truth or dare?"

"Truth," he answered confidently, to which another kid jeered at him.

"Hey, boring! You chose truth last round, man!" he pointed out.

"So what?" Sunny asked from the couch, squished between Iseul and another music student, "Let him do what he wants,"

Tom's primary instincts urged him to stick with the truth. However, he found himself contemplating that Iseul was a genuine sweetheart — how bad could her dare really have been?

"No, it's alright," he assured Sunny, turning back to Iseul, "Let's do dare," he tried to ignore Noelle's coy smile from his left periphery.

"I dare you to kiss Noelle," nope, he was very, very wrong.

"W-What?" he stuttered.

"What?" Noelle was suddenly attentive; her eyes widened, her lips stiffened with a mix of surprise and hesitation.

“With tongue, and for 10 seconds,” she added. In that moment, Tom took back every kind word and thought he ever had for Iseul.

“Wait, wait, don’t I get a say in this?” Noelle asked, her pretty gaze nearly overwhelming as she turned to Tom.

Josh began to make chicken noises, flapping his arms and bopping his head. Meanwhile Bianca was trying desperately to hide her giggles behind her solo cup.

"Either you do the dare, or you take a shot," Iseul reminded him

Tom looked back at Noelle, who was still looking at him. Instead of arguing with Iseul and letting her have more fun, he ignored her and softly asked, “Is it ok?”

“-- Sure” she smiled reassuringly – her confidence flooding his system with surprise and ardor.

With each beat, his heart raced, a relentless drumbeat echoing within him. He had experience with some other girls, yet the mere anticipation of her tender lips against his provoked an intense surge of excitement. The thought of her soft touch had his heart yearning to break free from the confines of his ribcage, making the moment more exhilarating and daunting at the same time.

His lips met hers tentatively at first, but Noelle's hand found its way to his neck, pulling him closer. They were locked in a more natural, passionate embrace. As their lips melded together, his whiskey-flavored lips meeting her cherry ones, a surge of anticipation coursed through them. Amidst the faint countdown from Bianca and another student, the surrounding sniggering served as a backdrop to their shared moment. Fuck.

Tom pulled back, his eyes wide with embarrassment and his cheeks as red as blood. Noelle also seemed slightly surprised, her eyes sticking to his as they sat frozen in place. Josh's voice broke them out of the trance, “Seems that wasn’t such a bad dare after all,“

“Shut up,” Noelle murmured while taking a swig of her drink, hoping the bitterness would wash away the arousing taste of Tom from her lips.

#tom blyth #tom blyth x reader #coriolanus snow imagine #coriolanus snow fanfiction #coriolanus x reader #coriolanus imagine #coriolanus fanfiction #coriolanus snow #the hunger games the ballad of songbirds & snakes #the hunger games x reader #the hunger games #tbosas #original story #original female character #imagines #imagine blog

75 notes · View notes