#every now and then I drink wine and spiral about Them

[beautiful-rebellious-sunflower]

welcome home

[eunoia-writes]

Confessions • Felix Catton x Reader

Summery - after a night of drinking bottle after bottle of wine Felix makes a confession which spirals his and y/n’s life into a whirlwind of romance only to be momentarily put on hold due to his jealousy.

Warnings - Drinking, jealous!Felix, Felix being a bit of a dick, secret romance

There was a soft humm of laughter from the other room while y/n walked into the dimly lit kitchen in search for the other wine bottles. She opened the fridge grabbing a bottle of Red and a bottle of white before she walked back into the living room where everyone was sat reminiscing on old summers stories. She placed the bottles down before sitting back down next to her friend, Farleigh.

“Y/n… do you remember that guy that put the love note your dorm letter box?” Indi said laughed as Felix groaned while y/n just nodded. Felix grabbed the bottle of red and topped up her glass before Turing to face his friend Indi.

“Can we not talk about this for the 100th time?” Felix asked

“Oh but why it was so adorable the way he fumbled over his words and laughed at everything y/n said.” Indi added

“Y/n doesn’t need someone who laughs at everything she says or can’t form a coherent sentence. Hell she’s smarter than all of us.”

y/n couldn’t help but blush slightly. Yes it was wrong and juvenile of her to he crushing on her friend who protects her no matter what cost.

“That’s real sweet of you, Fi.” Oh how he adored that nickname she gave him

“Anything for you.” He said looking at her for what could have been slightly too long

“We should really head off.” India said sharing a look with Felix y/n couldn’t quit read.

“We’ll see you guy tomorrow?” Felix said his arm wrapping around y/n’s waist. The pair had always been close and the physical touch of their relationship had never bothered either of them.

“Definitely we be here around 2.” Farleigh Said before the three of them made there way out of Felix’s flat

“Are you sure you don’t mind me staying?” y/n asked as she helped Him clear away a few things. Felix smiled

“you’re always welcome to stay here you know that.” Felix said pouring the last of the wine down the drain as y/n leaned against the counter

“What was that look Indi gave you about earlier?” y/n more asked him, he immediately stopped what he was doing and turned to her

“What do you mean?” He asked confused

“Fi, don’t do that you know exactly what I’m talking about.” She said as he moved closer to her

“Fine fine, she has been telling me how I should tell you that it wasn’t Daniel who wrote you that letter, it was me.” Felix said

“Fi that’s not funny.” She said looking up at him “come on tell me what it was.”

“Im being serious y/n, I had the biggest crush on you when we first came to Oxford.”

“oh come on that’s not true.” She said she didn’t realise how close they now were neither did he

“I still do.” he whispered

“Felix.”

“I always thought you were the most beautiful girl I’ve ever seen.” He whispered just inches away from her

“Stop it.”

“Y/n.”

“Felix.”

“That’s not funny.” Instead of saying another word Felix just leans in kissing her softly which she immediately reciprocates a surge of electricity coursed through them, igniting a passionate exchange that transcended words. Time seemed to halt as Felix pulled her impossibly close wanting nothing more than her close to him.

“Believe me now?”

—

The pair had been seeing each other for a while now they decided to keep it a secret knowing the complications of their loved ones finding out. They wanted it to be there’s and there’s only.

Felix, with a playful smile masking the excitement in his eyes, told Farleigh he was going for a run. This wasn’t anything new for him every so often Felix took himself off on a run to clear his head if Farleigh wasn’t so caught up in himself he’d of probably noticed the escalations in the amount of times his friend seemed to be disappearing. This worked in their favour though.

Felix jogged down familiar paths, exchanging pleasantries with others on campus as he made his way to the back road that was far less traveled by to the one place he craved to be.

"Hey there," Felix greeted, panting slightly from his faux jog. Y/n grinned, as he walked into her flat and straight over to her "Thought I could use some company for my workout ." They chuckled, finding solace in their secret rendezvous.

Things were going well for a while the two sharing nothing but pure unadulterated admiration of each other Beneath the facade of friendship, stolen glances and secret smiles told a tale of something deeper. Their perfect secret relationship thrived in the subtleties – a brush of hands, lingering gazes, and whispered confessions hidden amidst the mundane. The world remained oblivious to the symphony of emotions playing out beneath the surface, allowing Felix and y/n to savor the intimacy of their unspoken connection for themselves. Y/n adorned nothing more than the late nights in his arms talking about anything they could think of but what she hated most was waking up to an empty bed.

It had been almost three months of sneaking around before anything of great significance had its effect on them. All until the party at Farleighs new flings flat.

As they mingled at the party, Felix couldn't shake the knot of jealousy tightening in his chest. Y/n , unaware of Felix internal struggle, engaged in casual conversation with a charming boy named Jake. Felix gritted his teeth, feigning a smile while attempting to mask the possessiveness bubbling within. In a strained attempt at nonchalance when y/n returned to his side later that night, Felix remarked, "Jake seems pretty interested in you tonight."

Y/n, oblivious to the brewing tension, responded with a casual shrug, "Oh, he's just friendly."

Unable to contain his frustration any longer, Felix snapped, "Friendly? Or maybe you're enjoying the attention a bit too much, y/n." The words hung heavy in the air, and y/n's eyes widened with surprise and hurt.

"What's your problem?" Y/n shot back, her own defenses rising. Felix fuelled by the fear of losing y/n to the allure of someone else, retorted,

"My problem is that everyone thinks you're fair game. Maybe it's time they know the truth – that we're more than just friends."

Y/n now fully grasping the depth of Felix's jealousy, countered, "Are you threatening to expose us? You know we can't do that, Felix. Fuck me you were the one who wanted it to be a secret so bad." The argument escalated, echoing the clash between the passion they shared in secret and the turmoil of emotions exposed in the harsh light of reality.

“Oh fuck me y/n, maybe I wouldn’t have to say anything If you weren’t such an attention whore!”

“Excuse me!” She said through gritted teeth trying not to cause a scene

“Don’t play dumb, god forbid my attention is on something other than you for a moment you start acting like a brat.” Felix said and y/n couldn’t believe what she was hearing, how dare he talk to her this way. She wasn’t one of his little flings that only lived to please him. She had more respect for herself and wouldn’t bat an eyelid at leaving if he didn’t treat her the way she wanted.

“I don’t know where you get off speaking to me like that but you better cut that shit out.” She said tempers growing for the both of them

“God I could have anyone I wanted but I choose to be with you and do nothing if you -“ Felix began at this point it was soon to turn nasty between then

“No one asked you to do nothing.” She snapped

“Fuck off.” He mumbled under his breath pinching the bridge of his nose as she turned to look at him arms folded across her chest while they stood on the balcony

“I will fuck off, I told you do what you want Felix.” she was staring daggers at him while he let out a frustrated sigh there friends all a few feet away watching the whole ordeal go down not a single of of them having a clue what was happening.

“Like you wouldn’t go off at me if I even looked at anyone else!” He said usually if someone as tall as Felix was getting pissed off at you while towering over you it would be enough to intimate anyone, but not y/n. She wasn’t one to back down from an argument.

“Well I didn’t ask you not to, do what you fucking want. Talk to a few girls shag them for all I care I’ll just fucking laugh at ya.” She spat clearly pissed off at not only him but the thought of him touching anyone else made her skin crawl.

“Maybe I will!”

“You know what Felix, go fuck yourself.” Y/n almost yelled as she stormed out of the flat knowing he wouldn’t dare follow her.

The argument with Felix lingered in her mind like a relentless echo, leaving her overwhelmed with a torrent of conflicting emotions. As she stormed out into the night, the crisp air did little to cool the heat of frustration burning within her. The music and laughter from the party slowly faded, replaced by an unsettling silence that mirrored the void growing in her chest, each step marked by the weight of unspoken words and unresolved tension. Tears welled up in her eyes, threatening to spill over, but she fought to maintain composure, not wanting to reveal her vulnerability to the indifferent darkness. The dimly lit streets witnessed the internal storm playing out on y/n’s face, the glow of streetlights casting shadows that mirrored the turmoil within. With each step, she found herself grappling with the realisation that the argument had not only fractured her connection with Felix but also exposed the fragility of the carefully constructed façade they had maintained.

Alone in the dark, y/n finally allowed herself to cry, the frustration and heartache escaping in silent sobs that mingled with the night's hushed symphony. The journey home became a painful pilgrimage through the shadows of her own unresolved emotions, the echoes of the argument haunting her every step.

Days passed in a heavy silence between Felix and y/n after their heated argument. Felix grappling with a mixture of regret and longing, found the absence of y/n more challenging than expected. Each passing moment without her presence heightened the ache in his heart. Felix had never felt this way before. No one had every evoked the same emotions from him that y/n does and the lack of communication became increasingly unbearable. Felix scrolled through old messages, the weight of the unsent apologies pressing down. Pride clashed with the undeniable truth – Felix missed y/n more than words could express. Swallowing the pride, He finally sent a hesitant message, "Can we talk?" The pause that followed felt like an eternity.

Y/n - Come over?

Felix shot up from his bed wasting no time rushing over to her flat rehearsing exactly what he wanted to say to her , everything from how sorry he was for the way he treat her and that he should have never spoke to her that way because he let his idiotic jealousy take the wheel to how stupid he feels for making her keep what they have a secret and how he wants nothing more than to shout it from the rough tops. However upon letting himself in with the key she’d given him not too long ago that all faded when He walked into the flat to find her curled up on the couch in his jumper and her beloved blanket she’s had for as long as he’s known her.

“Y/n.” He whispered as she stirred from her sleep while he sat down on the edge of the couch a few feet away from her

“Hi.” She said as she sat up rubbing her eyes slightly bringing her knees to her chest as she looked over at him

“I’m so sorry baby.” He began but before he could go on his tangent of how sorry he was and how much he adores her she whispered almost inaudibly

“Do you not trust me?” Felix felt his heart sink he hated that he’d upset her

“I do trust you baby, i was just being jealous I should have never taken it out on you.” He said cautiously moving closer to her not wanting to make her uncomfortable “I hate the idea of someone else looking at you the way I do, the idea of you making someone feel the same way you make me feel.”

“I’d never do that intentionally.” She said looking at him with her big do eyes that made him melt the same why they did when he first saw her

“I know… I’m so sorry for speaking to you like that and I’m so sorry for making you keep us a secret.” He told her as she shuffled closer to him letting him pull her into his lap

“What?” She asked confused

“You’re my girl, and I want no I need everyone to know that.” He told her and she couldn’t help but smile. Felix had never outright claimed anyone so y/n couldn’t help but feel special that she was the first

“But Fi, I don’t want you to feel like you have too… baby come on it’s about time I tell my parents and everyone else you’re my girlfriend.” Felix watched the way her eyes lit up as he said that word

“Girlfriend?” she whispered while Felix just nodded leaning in to kiss her softly “I like that.” She mumbled into the kiss

“Missed you.” He whispered as he pulled away

“I missed you too, I’ve hardly slept not having you here next to me.” Felix let out a sigh of relief knowing that she missed him just as much as he missed her.

“Then let’s get you to bed, yeah?” Felix scooped her up carrying her into her bedroom just as he had done so many nights before. In one swift motion he laid her down before crawling beside her and letting her get comfortable as she found her place on his chest.

“Y/n.” He whispered his hand running through her hair. It took her a few seconds to hum in response but he didn’t mind “I love you.” He said the words lingering in the soft glow of the bedside lamp. Y/n absorbed the sweet declaration like a lullaby. The words wrapped around her like a comforting embrace, and a tender smile played on her lips as sleep gently claimed her. In that moment, the room held the echo of those three precious words, affirming what they both already knew before they both drifted into the night.

[theemporium]

ooh, looked at all the prompts and uh “It’s not like this with them.” with trevor? please and thank you

thank you for requesting!🫶🏽

.

“Can you please come pick him up?”

“Jamie—”

“Please. You know I wouldn’t ask if it wasn’t an emergency.”

When you had settled down on your couch earlier that weekend, you had expected to have an easy night in. You had a frozen pizza ready to be demolished, a bottle of wine in the fridge and a new season of a tv show you vaguely remembered the plot of to keep you entertained for the night. 

Now, somewhere after midnight, you were driving through the roads of Anaheim to go collect Trevor from some bar that Jamie had set you the address of. Usually, this wouldn’t have been a problem. In fact, you probably would have laughed at the whole time and teased the boy about it in the morning. 

Usually being the operative word.

Because you actually hadn’t spoken to Trevor for around a week now. 

It was stupid. So fucking stupid. You weren’t sure if the fight bothered you, or if you just felt stupid for asking the question in the first place. But you never thought it would have blown up the way it did.

You and Trevor had been seeing each other for a while now. Weeks of texting turned into late night phone calls even when he was on the other side of the country. Hang outs in his flat turned into fun dates where he absolutely spoiled you. 

Nobody had made you feel the way Trevor did.

You had been at his and Jamie’s flat like you usually were on your day off. You had ordered takeout, watched a movie, cuddled on the couch and then you two were just talking. It hadn’t even meant to be a heavy question because honestly, you thought it was obvious. After the dates and the texts and spending almost every day since you had met talking in some way, you thought it was so fucking obvious. 

So, does this mean I can call you my boyfriend now?

A casual question that turned into a full blown screaming match between the two of you until you had left the apartment in tears in the middle of the night and he had stormed off to his room, slamming the door loudly behind him.

Neither one of you had spoken or seen each other since then.

Until now.

“I’m sorry—” Jamie started but you just shook your head.

“It’s fine,” you said with a strained smile as the defenceman helped you get the boy into the car.

He was drunk. Maybe drunk didn’t even begin to cover how fucked he was. He was smashed, absolutely fucking gone and it was not a new sight. Since the night of your fight, he had been on a downwards spiral. Usually it was just snappy comments to teammates or trying to instigate more fights on the game they had a few days ago. 

But it had never gotten to the point of him drinking his feelings away. 

“You came for me,” he giggled as he slumped in the car seat, turning his head to stare at you. “I didn’t think you would come for me.”

“I came because Jamie asked,” you stated simply, keeping your eyes on the road instead of the boy next to you.

Surprisingly, Trevor had stayed silent for the rest of the drive, which was very unusual for him. Usually you couldn’t shut him up, even when he was drunk. But the boy hadn’t spoken a peep. 

He didn’t say a single word as you helped him out of the car, his arm thrown over your shoulder and your arm wound around his waist. He didn’t say a word as you helped him into your flat, guiding him towards your spare room. He didn’t say a word as you handled him a glass of water and ordered him to drink it.

He didn’t say a word until you turned to leave.

“I’m sorry,” he mumbled as his hand darted out to grip your waist, to prevent you from walking away. “I don’t like fighting with you.”

“You seem to like it a lot when you’re sober,” you couldn’t help but bite back. A week of emotions were bubbling inside you, and you couldn’t make them stop.

“I didn’t mean it,” he admitted to you, his eyes blinking slowly as he stared up at you with those damn puppy dog eyes. “I didn’t mean any of it.”

You swallowed the lump in the back of your throat. “Then why did you say it?”

“I got scared,” he confessed in a shy voice, one that was so unlike him. “Usually I don’t really care and everything is just a bit of fun. Usually girls say it and I just let them say it. I let them call me their boyfriend.”

You tried to ignore the way your heart pinched. “So I just didn’t make the cut?”

He shook his head, tugging you closer by your wrist. “No, no. It’s just…it’s not like this with them.”

Your brows furrowed together in confusion. “Like what?”

“You make my heart go really fast,” he murmured as he looked up at you with big, glossy eyes and pouty lips. “And I feel like I always have butterflies when you’re near me. And it should be so fucking scary but…I don’t think it scares me. I like it. I like it a lot. I like you a lot and it scared me that I wasn’t scared. It scared me that I wanted so much more with you and I didn’t know if you’d feel the same.”

Your features softened. “Trev—”

“I promise I didn’t mean it,” his voice was quiet and raspy. “I don’t like fighting. I don’t wanna keep fighting. I don’t wanna lose you.”

“You’re not gonna lose me,” you murmured as you shifted your hand out of his grasp, moving to push his hair back and watching as his eyes fluttered shut with the action. “Get some sleep. We will talk in the morning.”

Trevor looked like he wanted to argue but he was cut off by his own yawn. “Promise?”

“Promise.”

.

[shina913]

Breakfast | KMG

Breakfast

Pairing: Mingyu x Fem!Reader

Rating: M 🔞; SFW

Genre: meet-ugly-turned-meet-cute!AU; fluff

Warnings: cussing; sexually suggestive language but not anything too explicit; mentions of alcohol consumption

Word count: 1.7K words

Summary: While on your walk of shame, you meet an unlikely companion who is doing the same.

A/N: Ah, my first SVT fic!!!!! 🤭 I've been spiraling for a couple of months now and felt the need to channel all of my brain-rot into fic. Please be kind 🥹

You groan, squinting at the early morning sunlight peeking through the blinds. You quickly realize that you are not where you hoped to be— cozy and warm in your own bed—but rather in someone else's.

You glance over to your side but find it empty. Your random Romeo must have gotten up early for coffee or something, but you don't want to stick around to find out. Understandably, you made some poor decisions last night, but you live and learn.

Memories of uncorking and emptying bottles of wine between you and him flash through your mind, but you shake them off. You look around, awkwardly stumbling as you try to retrieve your clothes, phone, and whatever dignity you have left.

Once you’re clothed, you walk into the living room searching for your purse. You find it on the floor, next to the couch. As soon as you grab it, your body jolts when you hear the toilet flushing in the distance. You hastily grab your purse and shoes and race toward the front door. You want to make a quick and quiet exit without looking back before last night’s companion walks into the living room.

You can’t remember much of what happened but you recall drinking enough to forget about something.

Fortunately, it's early enough on a Sunday that the typical neighborhood crowd isn't up yet. Since your phone is dead, you can't call an Uber to take you back to your apartment. Ten blocks shouldn't be too bad...for this walk of shame.

You stare down your path home in silent resignation and shrug. At least the pavement is all flat, and there are no hills to climb.

Everything seems to be going well until someone rushes out of a neighboring building wearing only his pants and a tie around his neck, with what appears to be his shirt balled up in his hand.

Seeing men walking around shirtless was not an unusual sight after living in the downtown area for a while. However, he was certainly a sight to see. Although you may be slightly hungover, it doesn’t stop you from taking a moment to appreciate the view. Suddenly, you find yourself craving breakfast.

“Oh shit,” he curses out loud, his eyes wide as plates when he meets yours.

You couldn’t help but laugh at the situation. “You too, huh?” you point at him in jest. 

The man scowls at your comment, seemingly offended that you’d insinuate such a thing. He drops his shoes, which you hadn't noticed in his other hand, begins to slip his feet into them, and walks off without saying a word.

You mutter, "Pfft, whatever," out of earshot as he walks away.

However, you happen to be going in the same direction for the next block and a half, so you awkwardly follow behind him as you both cross the street and continue onto the next block.

He unravels his shirt to slip it back on when he happens to glance behind him and finds you there. At first, he ignores it, but he hears the keychain on your purse rattling with every step he takes.

He pauses and abruptly turns around to face you. This takes you by surprise, and you nearly walk into his broad chest.

“What the—“

"You know, people will start to think we did something together last night if you keep following me like this," he accuses.

You raise your eyebrows and scoff. "Please, don't flatter yourself! This is where I'm headed, too." You scan the area. "Besides, I don't see anyone around here that I know. Do you?"

He doesn't respond. Realizing that he was being rude to a stranger, he turns sheepish and shoves his hands in his pockets. "Uh, so...what's your name?" he asks.

His sudden change in demeanor catches you off guard and you squint at him suspiciously. "You first," you reply.

“I’m Mingyu.”

You contemplate giving him a fake name but it feels way too early in the day and too many brain cells to gather for an alias, so you tell him your real name instead. 

Mingyu smirks. “Lovely to make your acquaintance.”

“Mingyu, huh?” you say curiously, eyeing his outfit. “Male prostitute?”

He throws his head back, laughing. When he recovers, his expression turns mischievous. "Well, as a matter of fact..."

"Mm...actually, don't answer that," you say as you brush past him, walking toward your apartment. “Good talk. See ya!”

“Hey, hang on! Do you live near here?” he asks as he runs to catch up to you.

You lie. “No. Stop following me,” you say as you try to lose him.

He catches up to you in two strides. “If I remember correctly, you came around the corner and you started following me first,” he says with a grin.

You groan in annoyance. “I was not! The building you ran out of just happened to be in the same direction I was walking,” you say with a frown.

“You’re not very pleasant in the morning, are you?” he remarks.

You stop and turn to him. "Well, sorry if I don't want to make small talk while dressed like this."

"Like what?” He takes a few seconds to rake you from top to bottom, checking you out. “I think you look pretty fucking great," he smiles cockily.

Admittedly, he's smooth, but you don't want to fall into that trap again as you just managed to crawl out of one.

"Likewise, male escort Mingyu," you smirk back at him.

“Don’t your feet hurt from walking barefoot?” he points out as he glances downward.

“No more than walking ten blocks in these heels,” you reply, picking up your stride again. “Besides, my phone is dead so I couldn’t call an Uber to get home faster.” 

“I can do that for you!” He chases after you again. “My phone’s got 20%.”

“You seem like a nice guy but I don’t even know you and won’t be able to pay you back.”

“You don’t have to! I’m feeling generous today,” he says with an air of confidence.

“Sure you are,” you retort.

He taps your arm to grab your attention. “Fine, if you won’t take my offer for a ride, here,” he says as he slips out of his shoes to slide them toward your feet. “Wear these.”

“What? Why?” You ask as you stare dumbfounded at him.

“I can’t in good conscience let you walk barefoot that far. Plus, who knows what’s lurking on these streets.”

“Trust me, I’ve walked farther,” you say, briefly recalling other regrettable nights from the past. “I can also put my shoes back on, halfway through.”

He’s still insistent. “Please? Or let me give you a piggyback ride for a few blocks, at least?”

You laugh out loud. “Don’t be ridiculous,” you say to him. Even though judging by the way he’s built, especially those biker’s thighs, he could very well carry you all the way to the next town over.

“As ridiculous as me inviting you for breakfast at my place?” he asks.

Your stand there slack-jawed for a moment. This walk has taken a strange turn but your growling stomach makes his offer tempting, more than his handsome face.

“What does breakfast at your place look like? Cold cereal and burnt toast?”

“Ouch,” he clutches at his chest, feigning offense. “I may not look like it but I actually know how to cook,” he says, sweetening the deal.

You purse your lips. Were you actually considering his offer? “Hypothetically, if I accept your invitation, what would you make for me?”

“Bacon, eggs–cooked any style you want. Maybe some waffles,” he replied with a broad smile. “Hypothetically speaking, of course,” he says with a wink.

He had you at ‘eggs cooked any style you want.’ You sigh at your weakness and look downward at his shoes. “Okay, but these are way too big for me. I could trip and fall into a coma before I even make it there.”

“The piggyback ride offer stands.”

You snort in amusement at how unbelievable this morning has turned.

“I live right over there, see? The blue one.” He juts his chin toward a light blue-hued Victorian duplex at the end of the block.

He's conventionally attractive and his body looks nice, but you literally just bumped into him on the street and now he's inviting you to breakfast at his house? He could be a murderer or some kind of sexual deviant, for all you know.

“I promise I’m not a murderer,” he says, quelling your unspoken suspicions. “If it makes you feel better, my next-door neighbor is a 75-year-old grandma who likes to sit on her front porch during the day. She's practically the neighborhood watch! If I were up to no good, the cops would show up at my door in minutes.”

Just then, your stomach growls embarrassingly loud enough for him to hear.

He smirks in amusement. "At least allow me to make you a fresh pot of coffee. You can recharge your phone and call a car from there. No harm done!"

"Why are you being so nice? I'm still a stranger, you know."

He shrugs. "We both had our own versions of interesting evenings we'd rather forget. Starting the new day on a promising note would be nice, don't you think?"

Your eyebrows quirk at that. Something about his carefree optimism draws you in. And the fact that he can see past your slept-in eye makeup and poor decisions from the night before makes you feel that maybe there are still some genuinely good guys out there.

He holds out his hand, earnestly anticipating your response. You glance at it for a second, sigh, and think, what the heck?

Relenting, you nod your head, and he crouches down, bending his knees to the right level. You step closer and position yourself behind him.

With his gentle assurance, you reach your hands forward and wrap your arms around his shoulders and neck. As you rest your legs on either side of him, he asks for your consent to grip you behind your knees. You give him permission. Despite anticipating it, his strong hands still take you by surprise. You wonder quietly what else they're capable of.

Once you both have a solid hold on each other, he shifts his weight to stand up. After making sure that you are both stable, he turns his head to check on you.

“All good?”

“Yep,” you answer.

“Alright! Let’s make you some breakfast!”

As he carries you toward his building, you smile to yourself. Maybe the walk of shame wasn’t so bad after all.

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TAGS: @roaminginthenights @yoongukie-ff

[ohmyeyesmyeyes]

quiet night in listening to you speak another language (it's so casual)

summary: it's the eve of christmas eve and nate's somehow found himself listening to you speak french (he's not complaining)

warnings: swearing, tension?, mentions of christmas celebrations

the series!

< this was originally going to be longer but i need to rehash the lore first >

In all actuality, Nate hadn’t actually realised that he’d even owned a book in French. He’d scoured past every title and spine of each single one at least three times before, and not once did he clock the French one. In his defence, the title was pretty misleading – that was in English – and still, according to you, the inside pages were all in French. 

French. He’d shaken his head, and if it had been anyone else, he might have scoffed and not believed them, but he was beginning to get the hang of reading your body language and facial expressions pretty well in the five or six months you’d been friends – and he’d yet to decide if that little skill of his was a good thing or not. On one hand, it let him know exactly when to shut the fuck up (now, for instance), and on the other…well, the more he thought about it, the more he was coming to the realisation that there wasn’t much to not like about getting to know you more.

But now? You standing in his living room because you’d both miraculously managed to get back to Cole Harbour for a few days at Christmas? If he was being completely honest with himself, it was kind of driving him crazy.

And for the life of him, he couldn’t work out why.

It might have something to do with the fact that he was a little bit tipsy; it might have had something to do with the fact that maybe he found he wasn’t entirely too bummed out that he’d just made a fool of himself in front of you; or it might have had something to do with the fact that he’d just realised your voice changed when you spoke French.

Was that something that happened to everyone who spoke more than one language? He couldn’t remember. He’d heard Jo speak French on a number of different occasions, even you when he’d met up with you in Montreal, but with the close proximity forced by lowered inhibitions from the alcohol in both your systems, he was just now figuring it out.

Your voice was deeper, but somehow softer. And Nate found himself wondering if it changed yet again if you spoke a different language. He found himself wanting to find that out. Actually, that seemed to be a recurring theme lately: you’d say something or do something, and he’d stop for a moment, his mind soaking in that new piece of information – the calm before the storm – until his brain would ultimately spiral into a smattering of different thoughts and questions, all of them pertaining to you.

He’d considered writing them down and making a note of them, but the risk of someone accidentally stumbling across such a list was slightly mortifying, and the only thing he could do was promise his future self that when things stopped being a little bit awkward (i.e. silences where both of you would remember that the person in front of you was still a stranger and not in fact an old, good friend), he’d just start asking them. Out loud. And without shame.

Take this moment, for example:

It was the day before Christmas Eve. He’d spent the morning dropping off presents to non-family in the local area (mainly Sid and some other childhood friends that he still kept in touch with), and along the way he’d received a phone call from you and walked home to the sight of you huddled on his doorstep, clutching a bottle of wine with the excuse that you thought it’d be more bearable to drink with someone else than alone.

And if he was being completely honest, when his phone first lit up with that incoming call, he felt himself perk up, a grin already on his face when he answered – of which he was entirely sure you could hear in his voice down the line. Though, that was nothing compared to the actual proof of you on his doorstep, nothing at all.

He’d had to keep his hands from shaking when he stuck the key in the lock, and stop himself from staring for too long, because you’d clearly come from some sort of dressy-gathering and were wearing pretty, formal clothes and you’d clearly had a good day already because you were practically already glowing.

Needless to say, it hadn’t taken much for the two of you to eventually settle in his front room, a Christmas movie on low volume in the background as you trawled his bookshelf with curiosity. That was when the little debate had started, and it was also when you’d rather unapologetically rolled your eyes and shoved the pages under his nose to prove you were right, because what else would you have done?

What would he have done? Probably the same thing. It wasn’t the first time he’d seen your competitive side, either, and if every little discussion ended up with you sitting right next to him, your legs folded underneath you as you held the book in front of your face, eagerly rattling out sentence after sentence in French – he figured maybe losing this kind of this wasn’t such a bad idea. He also figured he could cope with going a little bit crazy every now and then.

(Nate hated losing, that should be known.)

Though, one thing he found sufficiently annoying was his own inability to understand just what it was you were saying. He’d always wanted to learn French – he’d have probably ended up on a different team in his youth if he had known French – but he’d never really committed himself to picking up the language, not even when he met Jo. Sure, he knew basic phrases, as did most people, but this was something else.

Every sentence or so you’d have to reread what you’d just read in French in English for him to understand, and even though he wanted to know the translation, he also wanted to batter his child self for ever turning those lessons down, because hearing English after speaking French was incredibly…well, as much as he liked the English language, it lacked the unique beauty of the French language.

“Do you want me to keep reading, or–”

“Yes please.” He instantly regretted interrupting you – not only because he was honestly so eager to keep hearing you talk, but because of your own reaction to said eagerness. He didn’t even need to be looking at you to feel the heat of your amused stare into the side of his face.

Though, he also knew, at least some unconscious part of him did, that it was also because he liked being close to you in this way: a kneecap pressing into the side of his thigh, one sock-clad foot under said thigh, and your shoulder leaning against his bicep from where it had previously (already) been outstretched across the back of the couch. After all, you’d put yourself there. Initially to prove a point, but you hadn’t moved, neither of you had.

The glasses on the coffee table were empty, as was the bottle, and it was getting pretty dark outside already. The fire was on, While You Were Sleeping was playing, and he felt comfortable. Infinitely more comfortable than he would have done if he’d have just come home to an empty house, though he half suspected that if you hadn't been here he’d have just asked to have dinner at his parent’s house, but you’d sorted that too with a few clicks on your phone.

He rather liked having you around, it was something he’d recognised from the very beginning but he seemed to be reminded of it each and every time you saw each other – which wasn’t very often at all, not often enough: you were in Montreal and he was in Colorado, and very rarely were the two of you ever in the same place at the same time. Not unless he had a game in Montreal or you had to visit the chain in Colorado, or you were both at home. Other than that, your friendship was strictly limited to the confines of technology, and even then there was often a small conflict with the time difference.

Two hours wasn’t much, but with his constant travelling and your workload, you’d come to learn it was no easy feat trying to organise a video call – hence, texts just seemed to be the easiest thing to do.

Yeah, he found himself thinking, fuck knows when you’d get to see each other next.

It was why he took the chance of sounding like a bit of an idiot: if he wasn’t honest then it’d take forever to actually get to know each other properly, and he wasn’t going to have that, at least, not if he could help it too much.

“Does your voice sound different when you speak Spanish than when you speak French?” He wasn’t looking at you when he asked it, but the burning of his cheeks did intensify when you slowed to a stop, the book lowering to your bent knee.

When he did look at you, your head was tilted, a careful look of consideration melted into your features. You rested your head momentarily on his arm and he had to fight to not react to that.

“Probably.” You settled on, voice rough from the alcohol, “You have to use your facial muscles differently to produce the sounds depending on accent, rhythms and intonation patterns.”

Your head lifted off his arm, and for a second his mind went blank.

“What does your Spanish sound like?”

You raised your brows, eyelids heavy, “You want me to speak Spanish?”

He just nodded, fighting off a cheeky grin.

“What do you want me to say?”

“Anything.”

“Cualquier cosa.” You muttered, watching his face carefully for any indication your voice had changed.

It was a little odd to admit, but there was something entirely endearing about watching Nate react to things – whether it be something you said, or something that happened. It was fascinating: the way his mouth would twitch or his brows would dip down or raise, or the different creases that would appear. It felt like a game trying to predict what would change on his face to formulate a complete reaction, but it was weirdly adorable.

Though, your favourite thing just had to be his nose – mostly because it was the one constant: you could always rely on the sharp slope and slight curve to stay the same. The relevance that had to your previous observation was little to none, but…you liked it.

This time his mouth twisted, and he glanced away from you momentarily, like he needed the extra few seconds to replay the moment in his mind to make the decision. In truth, you already had an idea of what your own voice sounded like speaking different languages: part of the learning process was to record and talk and relisten to improve pronunciation, and it was then that you’d realised for yourself that you sounded slightly different.

Spanish was a higher pitch, probably because you found it less comfortable than speaking English and French. English was a nice medium to refer back to, and French was lower even then, probably because of the accent itself, and the fact that you’d been speaking it just as long as you had English.

Still, it didn’t take ten minutes for you to notice the differences like it had Nate – it took a good couple of days.

“Spanish is higher than French and English.” Nate turned back to you, confident in his answer, and for the sake of not showing just how shocked you were at that, you nodded.

“A propósito, tu cabello se ve bien de ese modo.” 

He blinked, eyes lazily focused on your mouth as you moved, and his lack of reaction to the unfamiliar phrase prompted an unintentional blush to warm your cheeks – the sheer intensity of his eyes and the mix of his slightly parted mouth (either out of curiosity or lack of self-awareness) bringing something a little heavier to the moment. You attempted to distract him from the colour of your cheeks by nudging his thigh with your kneecap.

He swallowed, mouth closing, “What does that mean?” 

And because he usually had pretty pale cheeks, the flush of the alcohol blended seamlessly into any further reddening making it almost impossible to distinguish if he was the least bit embarrassed about you having caught him staring so unashamedly – if it weren’t for the tips of his ears burning.

“It means ‘by the way, your hair looks good that way’.” You muttered a little sheepishly, lifting the book up to hide the bottom half of your face, eyes peeking over the top to spy on his reaction whilst also trying to appear nonchalant. 

You watched his eyes widen a little bit, jumbled mind digesting your compliment, before running a self-conscious hand through his waves. They were probably the most messed up you'd ever seen them: unruly and a little floppy. It wasn’t exactly a sight that screamed ‘Nathan’ to you, but you weren’t lying when you said it looked good. He looked good.

Only, he didn’t seem to agree, because he frowned, fingers twirling the ends of his hair, eyes cross-eyed as he dragged strands down to his own view, “My hair’s a mess.” You heard him mutter rather confusedly, and you lowered the book once more, leaning your head against your fist, mindful not to knock his arm off the back of the couch.

And maybe it was because you were also tipsy, or maybe it was because you didn’t want him to start fixing it, or maybe – just maybe – there was a small part of you that needed him to know you weren’t teasing, convince him that you you weren’t just saying it for the sake of saying it, “Stop fussing with it.”

“I can’t, it’s pissing me off.” He groaned, using both hands to scrape his hair backwards, which did nothing but draw your attention to his features: the shadows under his eyes from the light and his lashes; the prominent hook of his nose; the precise groove of his philtrum; the shape of his mouth; the soft stubble decorating his chin.

You were staring.

And he opened his eyes, the clear blue startling you to look sharply at the TV, now acutely aware of the fact that you were tucked against his shoulder, pressed against his thigh and under his thigh, all in pretty close proximity to say you’d only known each other for a few months.

Usually it took you a while to get comfortable with someone as a friend, even in the physical sense: hugs weren’t usually a comfortable thing – you didn’t know why, you just weren’t like that – though alcohol was the only thing that made you more comfortable with that kind of thing.

The common denominator.

“When do you go back to Colorado?” You spoke as you turned your attention back to him, speaking the first thing that came to your mind to get his sudden frustration away from his hair.

“Christmas morning.” He sighed, thumb scraping his eyebrow, “What about you?”

“Christmas evening.”

There was a lull in conversation after that, the both of you quiet as you took in what it meant. Usually you hated uncertainty and having such a lack of control over future plans, but it was something you’d had to quickly accept and adjust to if it meant you wanted Nate in your life. You didn’t know when you’d next see each other after this holiday. It could be weeks, it could be months.

You swiped your phone from the coffee table, pulling up your calendar app and scrolling through the dates. You knew he didn’t have any games left in Montreal, which left (at least, up until the play-offs) it up to your own work schedule. Sometimes your boss would have you travel to other branches across Canada and the US to implement training or just to evaluate how different departments work in your division – maybe you could learn more efficient techniques etc. But that was rare – you’d been down to Colorado once in the last seven months, and it was only luck that Nate was at home then.

Which put you up to Summer if the Avs clinched the playoffs, and even then it was fifty-fifty as to whether or not you’d be able to take holiday, obviously not to just see Nate, but to spend time with family that you didn’t get to see as often as you’d like. Though, your holiday leave tended to be used for birthdays.

You switched off your phone, running a hand through your hair and placing the book on the coffee table, untucking yourself from Nate to sit next to him instead, a suitable amount of distance separating you on the cushions. It wasn’t an obvious gap that you’d placed, but it was appropriate enough.

“Two days to spend time with the family.” He murmured, arms crossed over his chest.

“I think that’s the thing I miss most about not living here anymore. But I’m always ready to go back to my little apartment – I hate feeling like a kid again.”

Nate hummed in agreement, though a part of it felt fake. He knew what you were saying, he understood where you were coming from, but it felt fraudulent to sit on his couch in his house and agree with you – you who had to go back to your parents and probably get pestered (lovingly) as to where you’d been all day, before getting told not to go to bed too late. He hadn’t had that in years. He’d spend days at his parent’s house, but he’d always come back here.

“You can stay here tonight, if you want.” 

He’d said it quietly, a part of him wanting to be drowned out over the sound of the movie, and despite wanting to come across as it being a casual suggestion, he couldn’t help the note of sincerity seeping into his tone. He supposed it was that that had you hesitating, eyes carefully roving his face.

“I have a spare room already made up, it’d be no trouble.” He shot you a wry smile, shrugging helplessly, before turning back to the TV to give you space to think.

Only, you just sighed and picked your phone up again, before throwing him a glance out of the corner of your eye, “Are you sure?”

He nodded, offering a small, reassuring smile, “I’m sure. I can drop y’off in the morning.”

[musings-ofthe-unamused]

Blood Red Wine (Genshin Impact)

Pairing: Kaeya x Reader or Diluc x Reader

Word Count: 3.1k

Warnings: Blood, gore

A/N: I swear I'll make the sequels to these soon

Angel's Share was a safe space for a lot of people. Adventurers, merchants, and knights all frequented here for a nice drink after a long day. You were one of those people. You worked at the General Goods shop. It wasn't tough work. In fact, it was rather dull. Your whole life was dull, filled with no adventures or fun. You let out a groan, resting your head on the cool wood of the counter. You could feel the warmth of alcohol coursing through your body. 

"It's so unfair!" You groaned once again. "Everyone's life is so exciting!"

A hand patted your back as a soothing voice filled your ears. "There, there."

"No!" You lifted your head, looking over at the man sitting next to you. "I want adventure! I'm tired of living in this stupid city!"

"And leave us behind? I'm hurt."

"Kaeya, stop teasing."

You pouted. "Yeah, listen to Diluc. Stop teasing."

Kaeya only sipped on his drink, stifling a laugh. Diluc sighed and started to clean the counter. It wasn't often you got drunk like this. But every once in a while, you wanted to complain about how boring your life seemed to be compared to everyone else in the world. Even the two brothers who always fought led interesting lives. Kaeya was a cavalry captain that got to travel whenever he wanted. Diluc owned Dawn Winery and met all sorts of interesting people. Though, you were sure both of them had something hidden that they wouldn't tell you about.

You knew they weren't bad people. You've known them for some time now. Kaeya was one of your best friends. Sure, he teased you a lot, but he actually kept you from spiraling into a fit of depression from how lackluster your life is. He made things fun . Diluc, on the other hand, was reliable. Reasonable. He was the logic and sometimes he doled out the harsh words that you needed to hear. They were like the perfect pair, really. What one lacked in the other excelled at. It didn’t seem like it to outsiders, but they got along pretty well. Their bantering words and insults usually held hidden meaning that you picked up on fairly early into meeting them.

You slid your empty glass forward. “More.”

“No,” Diluc grabbed the glass and started to clean it out. “I’m cutting you off. Unless you want water.”

“But I’m not even drunk!! Just a little tipsy, is all.”

“And I don’t want you drinking to the point of you getting drunk.”

“Come now, it was only one or two drinks. Would you like a sip of mine?” Kaeya leaned forward and slid his glass towards you.

“They don’t have a tolerance to alcohol like you do, you drunk.”

“It’s better than being a prude and not drinking at all.”

Diluc’s lip curled up in disdain. “If I wanted to make a fool of myself like you so often do, then I would drink it. But I don’t.”

“Ouch. Your words hurt, dear brother. You make it sound like I’m an alcoholic.”

“Are you not here every night?”

“Better than being alone.”

“I’m not alone.”

“You guys fight too much.” You stood up, swaying slightly as you did so. Your vision was wobbly and you blinked, shaking your head. “Oh, I think that drink was stronger than I thought.”

Kaeya stood immediately steadying you while Diluc leaned across the counter, reaching a hand out. It felt nice to have the two looking after you. “I wanna go home.”

“Kaeya?” Diluc said it more like a command, leaning back once he saw you were steady. 

“Of course. Let’s go, sweetheart.”

“ Kaeya . Don’t try anything.”

Kaeya only scoffed in response, as if offended Diluc would even think he would do something like that. You waved goodbye to Diluc as Kaeya wrapped his arm around you and walked you out of the tavern. It was already nighttime, the streets slowly emptying as people made their ways home. Diluc and Kaeya would both switch walking you home, sometimes both at the same time. They were overprotective at best. You didn’t know why, not that it concerned you. You were glad to have people at your side. If it was nighttime, they grew especially anxious. Even now, Kaeya’s face was relaxed, but his eyes flitted around as the two of you walked. You could never find out what had them looking around like that and never got a straight answer either. Mondstadt was relatively safe. So what had them so worried?

You were too tipsy to even care. You had gotten used to it at this point. Instead, you leaned against Kaeya, sighing as wrapped his arm even tighter around your shoulders. His cool body temperature felt nice against your hot skin. He was always cold. He said it never bothered him. It was nice in the summer and especially nice when you were drunk and overheated. It was always nice being around him.

“You doing ok, sweetheart?” His voice was soothing and sweet. “We’re almost to your place.”

“‘m just sleepy. Wanna get in bed.” Your words slurred together from both the alcohol and exhaustion.

He laughed, patting your head. Alright, alright.”

Once you arrived at your home, Kaeya made sure you got in safe. He tucked you into bed, set a glass of water by your bedside, and stayed with you until you fell asleep. The last thing you remember as you drift off is Kaeya smiling down at you.

***

The cellar in the tavern was dark and damp. It was the perfect conditions for the wine barrels lined against the wall and the shelf of expensive looking bottles. Diluc was naming out dates as you wrote down the information on the clipboard. You helped him out with inventory every now and then, especially when it was your day off and you didn’t want to be left alone. He insisted that Charles or Elzer could handle it, but you did so anyway. It was your own way of telling him you wanted to spend more time with him.

“That drunk bard needs to be cut off…” Diluc muttered, crossing his arms as he looked over all the barrels. “We’re down two bottles of wine imported from Inazuma. All because he went overboard.”

“I mean, don’t you want people to drink the expensive ones? More money, right?”

He shook his head. “More trouble, especially when it comes to him. He rarely even pays.”

“He seems like a fun guy,” I reply, following Diluc up the stairs. “But I guess I’ve never been around when he gets drunk.”

“Good.”

You set the clipboard down on the counter as Diluc starts preparing for the open of the tavern. He’s been working here more than normally. From what he and Kaeya have both said, he prefers to work back at Dawn Winery. But recently, he had opted for working at the bar. You joined him in cutting fruit for the drinks.

“No need to do that much. I can handle it.”

You shook your head, carefully cutting the fruit into slices. “You know I don’t mind. I like hanging out with you like this. It’s better than you seeing me drunk.”

“You already work a full time job-“

“That I hate. I’d rather be working with people I actually like. Like you.”

A comfortable silence fell over the both of you. Diluc’s shoulder brushed yours as he shined cups, making sure everything was pristine. When you were with him, you didn’t feel the need to talk. Just his presence was enough to fill you with a sense of calm and security. Even if he was annoyingly stern at times, it was how he showed he cared for you. You'd probably be a drunkard if it weren't for him. 

You wince, sighing as you accidentally cut your finger. "Oops."

"Did you cut yourself?" Diluc set down the glass and rag, immediately putting his attention on you. "Let me see."

"It's just a small cut."

Diluc leaned in, bringing your finger closer to his face to inspect it. His hands were warm, his eyes trained on the cut. You studied the way his red hair fell in front of his eyes, soft and slipping out of the hair tie. He clicked his tongue, looking up at you with a disapproving gaze. You were always clumsy and this was a common look you got whenever you accidentally hurt yourself. A bead of blood formed on the cut, slowly dripping down your finger. It slid onto Diluc's hand. He flinched, as if he just got burned.

"Oh, sorry! I'll go clean it off." You went to pull away, but he held onto your hand tightly.

"No. It's fine." He dragged you over to the sink. He was acting weird . You noticed his ears were tinged red and his breathing was slightly heavier than normal. He grabbed a small cloth, placing it over the cloth and holding it tightly. 

You blinked. "Uhm…you can let go now."

"What? Oh. Right." He seemed to shake himself out of whatever state he was in. "Be more careful next time."

His words were curt and he left to go to the backroom. You just stared, completely confused. There it was again. It was so odd , the way that Diluc or Kaeya would sometimes act out of the ordinary. You never found Diluc to be queasy when it came to blood, but he acted like it almost disgusted him. 

Just as quickly as it happened, he came back with a bandage and acted like nothing happened. You stayed silent as he placed it over your cut, sealing it tightly. Diluc patted your head and then went back to cleaning the glasses. It made you think that you were just being delusional. There was nothing wrong with them. 

***

There was definitely something wrong. You were sure the tavern would be open. It normally was. It was a Friday night and the night had barely begun. After you had gone home earlier, you realized you left behind your bag. You expected to see everyone drinking and celebrating the upcoming weekend. Yet the place was eerily silent. You took a couple of tentative steps inside. A feeling of dread washed over you. You shouldn't be here. You knew you shouldn't…and yet, you still called out for Diluc or Charles, your voice quiet and meek as if you've done something wrong.

When there was no response, you finally decided to check the backroom. The closer you got, the more that dread turned into pure fear. You could hear hushed voices. You recognized them instantly and you wish you hadn't. A deep metallic smell drifted from behind the closed door and towards your nose. Don't open the door. Your mind was practically screaming at you to stop. Whatever you would see behind it would change everything.

Morbid curiosity got a hold of you. Nausea hit you like a gust of wind as you opened the door. You almost thought you were having a nightmare. The sight in front of you was grotesque. Diluc and Kaeya stared at you in shock as they paused in whatever they were doing. On the table in front of them was a pitcher filled with a dark red liquid. Next to the pitcher was a pile of dead- you couldn't even make out what they were. It was just dead carcasses, their blood, guts, and viscera spilling out. You went pale.

"What are you doing here?!" Diluc hissed. His hands and cheek were smeared with blood. "The pub is closed tonight!"

Kaeya stepped around the table, moving toward you. "Are you alright? You look pale."

You took a step backwards. Then another. Your head was swimming as you tried to keep your composure. "Wh-What are you- why are you…I think I'm gonna be sick."

You turned to the side to throw up but found yourself fainting instead. All you could see was the pile of flesh and blood. You felt cold and hot at the same time as your vision went blurry. You could feel arms wrap around you, voices sounding like they are muted and far away.

 "Hey…hey, wake up." There was a pause. "Damn it, Diluc. Did you not say that you were closing for the day?"

"I wasn't exactly in the position to do so. It's your fault for forgetting to restock the blood supply."

"What do we do? We have to tell-"

"No, we can't."

"Then how else do you suggest we explain this situation?"

"Figure it out."

"You are so insufferable. This is why Father-"

" I'm insufferable? That's so rich coming from you, Kaeya."

A groan escapes your mouth as you finally come to. The rotten smell still made your stomach turn, but at least you were able to stay conscious. Kaeya had your head resting in his lap while Diluc kneeled next to him. You sat up, trying to scoot away. They were both still covered in blood.

Kaeya leaned forward. "Easy there-"

"What the fuck?!" Your eyes were focused on Kaeya's mouth. Two sharp canines jutted out in place of his normal teeth. "What the hell are you?!"

Diluc's eyes widen as he slaps his hand over Kaeya's mouth. "Calm down, alright? Let us explain."

You shake your head, your heart pounding in your chest as you try to move away from them. You could see Diluc's own teeth protruding from his lips. Suddenly, everything they ever did was flashing through your mind. Escorting you home at night, always being close enough to smell you, acting odd whenever you accidentally got a cut. You wanted to throw up. You wanted to run away. And yet, you just stared at them in disbelief.

"I'm waiting." You said, your voice hoarse and shaky. You tried not to let the fear show but you knew you were failing.

"To start-"

You held up  your hand. "Wait! N-not…I can't do it in front of the carcasses. And clean off the blood please ."

The two looked at each other and then nodded. You stood and went out to the main section of the tavern. You decided to pour yourself a drink. You automatically reached for the red wine, but froze. Not the right choice. Instead, you made yourself some sort of fruity concoction that would go down easy. After you were finished, you sat at the bar and waited for them to come back out. When they did, they looked as they normally did. Kaeya tried to remain cool and calm, giving you a soft smile as he sat next to you. Diluc took his normal spot behind the counter, leaning against it with his hands clasped together.

Diluc cleared his throat. "Alright. Well, to begin…" He trailed off. 

"We're vampires."

"Kaeya!!"

"How else do you want me to explain it?" Kaeya glared over at Diluc before turning his attention on you. He gave you that same lighthearted smile you were so used to seeing. 

You felt like your head was going to explode. You took a long sip of your drink. "So…What am I? Prey?"

Kaeya laughed. "Only if you want to be."

"Honestly," Diluc sighed, rubbing the bridge of his nose. "Have some tact. No, you're not our prey. We'd never bite you without your permission. Or any human, for that matter. We tend to stick to animal blood. It's safer."

You slowly nod. "So…I'm assuming Crepus was a vampire. But what about you, Kaeya?"

"Father thought it was best to turn me at a young age. Though, I practically begged to be turned. I thought it was the coolest thing." Kaeya laughed, as if the memory was fond to him. "The transition turned out to be unpleasant but it was necessary. Been living like this ever since."

"It was also a noisy transition. You couldn't stop screaming."

"You would scream too, if-"

"Can you guys stop fighting for one second?" You rubbed the bridge of your nose. This was insane. "I'm going home."

Kaeya placed his on your shoulder to keep you from leaving. You flinched, as if you just had been burned by his touch. He moved his hand away. The hurt was evident in his eyes. But what could you do? Just act like this was normal? That it was fine your two best friends have been lying to you your whole life? No, that wasn't fair. It wasn't right . 

You stand up without another word. You couldn't say anything else. You knew you shouldn't or you'd say something you might regret. Despite their secrets, you still didn't want to see them hurt. You needed time to process everything. If that meant cutting contact for a couple of days, so be it.

Kaeya's eyes widened. "W-wait! Don't go!"

"Stop." Diluc sighed, closing his eyes. "This is for the best. We all need a couple days to cool down. Just…trust them."

Trust. It almost made you want to laugh. If they wanted trust, they should've told you sooner. Or at least, eased you into it. It would've been better than seeing them covered in blood hunched over corpses like in a horror story. 

You make your way to the door, not bothering to look back. You can’t help but jump at every single noise on your walk home. Vampires. They’re vampires . The men who you’ve known and trusted for years. But because of that you couldn’t be completely angry. The fear in Diluc’s eyes that he tried to hide and Kaeya’s hurt expression twisted at your heart. 

You knew, deep down, that you will forgive them. It would take time to get used to this drastic change. You had a million questions that needed answering. And you also knew that they would never hurt you intentionally. They had always looked out for you and always protected you. They were just vampires and not humans. It’s fine.

"Just wait a bit." You told yourself, flopping down onto your bed. "Then you can go and figure things out."

  You just had to figure out who to talk to first. Kaeya was most obviously hurt. He hated getting into any type of conflict and would rather work it out immediately. You wouldn't be surprised if he soon came knocking at your door with a gift and the intention to stay all day. Diluc, on the other hand, was the type to let things fester. He wasn't outward with his emotions. If you've known him long enough it was easy to tell when he's trying to patch things up. You can imagine him fixing things in his own way through acts of service and sidelong glances.

This is a mess. You definitely needed to sleep on it. And sleep came easier than you thought. As you slowly closed your eyes, all you could see were the brothers, staring over you with sharp pointy teeth. Ridiculous.

[jeanbie]

hi, i hope you‘re doing well! :)

i don‘t know if you take requests or if you still write for yelena but i‘m currently rewatching attack on titan season 4 and i thought about yelena being very protective over reader when it comes to drinking the wine (her being protective in general), she can‘t tell reader why though because she still wants to be loyal to zeke‘s plan, despite being in a relationship.

it‘s totally fine if you don‘t wanna do it, feel free to ignore this ask. bye, bye! <3

LOVE AND WAR ★ masterlist.

pairing: yelena x reader

warnings: none | wc: 1.7k

note: thank u so much for requesting and i am so sorry that it took decades to post this! i just suddenly feel very inspired and have written 3 fics in 48 hours!! enjoy anon ଘ( ੭⁰̷̴͈ ᵕ ˘͈)੭* ✩

854

Yelena doesn’t feel regret. She just doesn’t — there has never been a moment where Yelena has felt regretful over any decision she has made. Nothing has been important enough to damage the profound impact of her final goal, which has always been to assist Zeke, to follow Zeke, to devote herself to Zeke. 

But Yelena has to admit to herself that when she looks to the side and sees you, bounding across the dark lawn beneath her from her balcony, a smile of pure elation drawn on your face, that for the first time in her life, the dull ache in her chest might not be the impatience to get on with it all; instead, it might actually be regret.

For all of her life, Yelena has felt a sense of greater purpose in store, a meaning that transcends her body, making her only a vessel of power to help move along the plan of a lifetime — the plan to end an era of suffering and welcome in an age of peace and prosperity. There has been nothing that has ever made her hesitate, ever made her wonder if what she is doing is right.

Until now.

Every couple of minutes, a new group of heckling cadets swarm underneath the swift wave of lawn beneath her balcony, and it wasn’t until she caught sight of you in one of her shirts that she felt the weight of her actions suddenly clam up inside of her, leaving behind not a happy feeling of importance but an ache of fear — fear that drives her out of her room and down the flight of stairs to find you before you’re pulled into the swarm of bodies crowding around open crates of delicious, foreign wine.

“Y/N.”

Somehow over the noise, you hear Yelena’s voice and turn your head, catching her looming height in the angled darkness of the hallway. Nobody blinks an eye at her, which is unusual. Ordinarily, cadets marvelled at the sight of her, pushed forward into her vicinity in a sort of morbid curiosity at her curious impression. Even you, once, had looked at her in a stunned sort of shock, long before the shock transformed into wonder, and the wonder melted into adoration. 

Manoeuvring around the excitement of your friends, you glance at one of them who looks at you questioningly and gesture towards the half-hidden figure standing guard in the dark. They follow your finger, gulp appropriately, and bow their head back into their original state of oblivious happiness, all in the name of good wine and good fun. 

No blonde, blunt and brutally tall foreign woman will stop any of them from their night of drinking. They had, after years of torment from titans that came from no place but that blonde, blunt and brutally tall foreign woman’s previous home, deserved a night of fun.

Yelena welcomes you into her personal space with a smile; a cautious smile that barely lifts any of her features up, but a smile nonetheless, and you reach her with your own surprised joy and let her pull you gently down into the spiralling darkness and back towards one of the doors into a study. 

Inside, the furniture is dripping with a dusty, moonlight glow, the windows flung open to let out the stench of stale wood and alcohol, the disinfectant choking in the broom cupboard joined to the right wall.

“I thought you’d already be at the party,” you say, trying to think of some reason for her guiding you here. There’s nothing indicating her purpose of being in this study, but she seems inclined to keep you here, blocking you in by putting herself between you and the now-closed exit door.

Yelena smiles, truly smiles, then and raises her eyebrows smugly. “There’s a party?”

“A party fully funded and catered to by your comrades,” you reply.

“Comrades,” she repeats, amused. “Please.”

“True, though. I can’t think of anyone in my squad who’s tried foreign wine before,” you continue, feeling your heart thump as Yelena steps over the invisible line between you both and smooths her fingers through your hair, thumbing the back of your head. “I haven’t had a drink since they retook Shiganshina!”

Yelena’s mouth twists at that. “The wine tastes like shit. I wouldn’t recommend it.”

“All you talked about once was this wine,” you counter, one brow raised suspiciously. “Best wine in Marley, you said.”

“I had to entice everyone somehow,” she replies. “Wine makes friends. Builds trust. It’s a universal peace offering.”

“Peace I’m apparently not allowed to take part in.”

Yelena frowns. 

When she offered her services to Zeke and completely devoted herself to him and his cause, it came with the consequence of silence — her life and everyone’s future depended on it. Yelena wanted nothing more but to warn you of what was to come, even better to hide you from it, but in doing so would mean running the risk of everything they’ve all worked so hard to set in motion coming crashing down.

While Yelena placed her entire trust in you, she couldn’t assume the same for the others privy to the knowledge she has. Instead, she’s subjected to staring down at your confused expression in a permanent place of horror.

“Look, it’s not that you’re not allowed to take part in the fun tonight, I just think there are better ways to celebrate,” Yelena suggests, her hands finding themselves on your face, cupping you to stop you from turning away towards the disappearing cluster of cadets in the hallway. “Like with me, for example.”

Yelena knows she’s expected to be apart of the festivities happening tonight in an effort to create an alibi, but if missing out means ensuring that you don’t feel suspicious of her, or worse that you feel a distance pulling you further apart, then she’ll happily take that chance. There were loopholes in her devotion to Zeke, and she was sure he would understand should he have any grievances with her disappearance tonight.

But her stomach churns when you smile, thread your fingers through hers and pull her hands from your cheeks. “Unlike you, I happen to like spending time with other people.”

“I like other people, too, but I’d rather be with you if I had the chance,” Yelena replies. She watches closely as you bite your bottom lip to suppress a grin — all the good that does when it spreads over your face regardless. 

“Stop…trying to change my mind,” you force out, leaning up on your toes to press your lips against hers. Yelena feels the tug worsen, her guilt hardening. 

It is entirely her own fault that she happened to fall in love on this stupid island. She was only supposed to be here to speed along Zeke’s plan, but she had never factored in meeting someone like you, someone so unaccustomed to outsiders yet so welcoming of them. 

If she closes her eyes, Yelena can still remember the first time she saw you, passing you by in the halls as she walked flanked by Hange and Levi. You turned to greet your superior soldiers with a smile and a salute, one that Hange simply nudged away with their hand followed by a quick fuss of your hair before continuing forward — and then your eyes met. 

Whatever followed is insignificant when Yelena considers how she got from point A to B: point A being seeing you that day in the hallway and point B being now, where she looks at you and feels her entire body go rigid. 

Yelena’s never felt love, either, but if she had to wager a guess, she’d say that love was what she felt when she saw you.

She pulls you in closer when you try to break away from your kiss, swallowing your laugh as she lifts you up off the floor and in a circle on the spot. She ignores the ache in her heart when you squirm away and nudge your nose against her cheekbone; tries to will away the guilt in her chest, the flipping of her stomach. 

“Why don’t we just go together?” you compromise once she relents and sets you back on your feet. You stare up at her expectantly. “You might be surprised to find that people actually want to talk to you.”

“I think you mean interrogate me,” Yelena replies. She has a point — people don’t know if to trust Yelena or not, even though thus far she’s done nothing wrong except step off the enemies boat. 

“Then… Why don’t we go and show our faces, spend some time in the fun, and then we can spend time together after,” you suggest, if only to see the light return to Yelena’s suddenly dark eyes. She peers at you, trying to figure out how someone as awful as her ended up with something as precious as you.

“Just as long as you don’t touch that shitty wine,” she counters.

Yelena flicks your chin when you roll your eyes. 

“You and that bloody wine…”

“I mean it, Y/N,” she says. The way her voice sounds suddenly so somber and serious makes you pause, questioningly raising your brows at her face. “Please don’t.”

Yelena has already sworn her own voice away for Zeke’s noble cause, but she needn’t use her words to convey her true feelings. You search for any indication that she might be fooling around and find nothing. Yelena seems as serious about this as the scouts had once been about titans, and you fidget in space before swallowing and giving her a sincere nod.

“Fine,” you agree, reaching for her fists by her side. “I’ll skip the wine and stick to ale. But it’s your fault if I puke everywhere. I’ve never been good at handling it.”

“Consider me threatened,” Yelena remarks, trying to tame the hammering of her heart in her chest when you lace your fingers with hers and smile, all before pulling her towards the worn wooden doors that connect to the hallway and string of festive rooms full of unsuspecting soldiers downing bottles of wine.

Wine that Yelena knows will play a much larger role in the orchestration of Zeke’s great plan — but wine that she has managed to save you from. And she can only pray to whichever God took pity on her here in this hallway that you can understand her when the truth comes out.

[doyawalker]

Out Of Sight, Out Of Mind #11

chapter 10.

contains smoking and a lot of drinking

masterlist

previous chapter

taglist: @generalchopshopgoatee , @namjooning-94, @hopefulrascalstatesmantoad, @parkinglot-nights , @y2kcy3brz

__

Tell Myself It’s Nothing But We Both Know It Is

You spiraled after that experience. 

Staring at the white ceiling of your room, you laid on your bed, legs and arms spread out, your mind wandering so far off into the distance that you didn’t even hear the door to your apartment open.

It had been three days. You stayed home for the whole weekend, your days becoming so painfully familiar again, your thoughts occupied by him. The way his lips had felt against yours, the roaring fire in your stomach whenever you thought back to that moment. Why did he do it? He never did it back then. Why now? Could it be…? But you always stopped your mind from going that way. You wouldn’t let yourself fall into that hole again. The hope that he actually felt something for you, that he was being genuine for once. 

Time passed you by and while you were glad that you didn’t have to see him over the weekend, something else in you was starting to long for him and his presence. The part that still demanded answers, the part that still wanted to understand what the fuck was going on. Because he had avoided your demand to finally tell you so skillfully with that move. Something that was so typical for him in a way. But not by kissing. 

The sun was setting behind your window and as the light casted its shadows through your room, the door opened, Taehyung leaning against the frame.

You didn’t look at him.

“What the fuck is going on with you, Y/N?”.

He sounded annoyed. “Have you even eaten today?”

He crossed his arms in front of his chest, as you didn’t respond immediately.

Slowly turning your head to look at him, you saw the way his brows furrowed. 

“I had cereal for breakfast.”

“It's almost seven now, you idiot. I’ll cook you something. But only if you finally get up.”

You hadn’t told anyone yet. Sori had been blowing up your phone because you had ignored her for most of the past days and Tae had been out working a lot. But also you didn’t know if you should tell them. Because you already knew what their reactions would be. How could you tell them that not every part of you was repelled by his actions? Even though you should be. 

“Come on.”, Tae urged again, walking up to the side of your bed, holding out his hand to help you get up. “You need to eat.”

You looked at his fingers in front of you, hesitating for a moment.

“Sori is coming too. She is worried about you.”

“Really?”

Your eyes wandered up to him, a warm feeling spreading in your chest. 

“Yes. Now, come.”

You finally took his hand and let him help you up, as you walked to the kitchen together.

You decided on making pizza, a comfort meal for the both of you and you were glad that he didn’t push you to talk. You prepared the food mostly in silence, Taehyung only dropping a few side notes here and there, and just as you opened the oven to slide the pizza inside, you heard the knocking on your front door.

“I’ll get it.”, Tae said, drying his hands on a kitchen towel before walking over to the entrance.

Sori stormed into the room, her eyes immediately finding yours, a bottle of wine in her hand that she almost dropped as she ran over to you.

Grabbing you by the shoulders to face her, her eyes slid over your body, inspecting you from head to toe.

“Where is it?”

“Where is what?”, you ask, a smile creeping on your face.

“The excuse you have for not answering my texts.”

She raised an eyebrow, a judging expression on her face as you laughed.

She was as overdramatic as always.

“Hey, it’s not funny.”, she said, pouting her full lips. “I was worried, you stupid bitch.”

You waved your hand in dismissal, taking a step forward to embrace her in a hug. 

“I’m okay. Don’t worry.”

“Don’t think that I’ll let you get away with that. I want to know everything. I know something is up.”

You chuckled again, but avoided eye contact with her. She knew you too well. Instead you took the wine from her hand and put it in the fridge to chill, before getting the plates out for the three of you.

As Tae helped you to get the table ready, Sori sat down, a strand of her dark hair in between her fingers, as she began to talk.

“I had the weirdest day, god. I was at this coffee shop this morning before going to my lecture and I saw this really cute guy in line before me and I swear he turned around to me multiple times and winked and when it was my turn to pay, he kinda tried to slid in front of me to pay for me, but I was just faster and then…”

Your mind started to drift away again as you simply enjoyed Sori’s familiar monologue filling the air, your hands putting down the cutlery on autopilot. The smell of the pizza was already lingering around and for the first time during those past three days you felt your body relax. The catastrophizing, spiraling thoughts in your head calmed down, the situation suddenly not seeming as bad anymore as it had before. And you noticed how much you had missed human interaction. Isolation wasn’t doing you any good. It became obvious now. And as you noticed your tense muscles loosen, your mind wandering back to the moment on Friday, the moment his hand had touched your skin, his lips brushing over yours, the need to tell Taehyung and Sori overcame you with such an urgency that you almost dropped the wine glass you had just grabbed out of the cabinet.

Putting it down on the table with such force that Sori interrupted her talking, both of your friends eyes snapping to you in surprise, the words were out before you could overthink them.

“Jungkook kissed me.”

His eyes wandered over the green of the garden before him, his hand going back to his mouth to take another drag from the cigarette in between his fingers.

Blowing out the smoke into the cold air, a sigh escaped him. Tapping the cig, he watched the ashes fall down into the golden ashtray on the table beside him. 

“What’s up, buddy? This is the third time you sighed in the past ten minutes.”

Hoseok’s voice made him snap out of his thoughts, his eyes darting up to look at his friend sitting next to him, a joint in his hand that he was sharing with Jimin. 

They were at Hoseok’s and Jin’s house again, like so many times before. Guess it came in handy when your friend’s parent were so fucking rich that they just let him have his own mansion. He was spending most of his time here these days, partly because he enjoyed the little parties they had here and partly because he didn’t want to be alone with his thoughts at home. He needed the distraction. Otherwise he would go crazy, it felt like. 

“Nothing.”, he said simply, taking another drag of his cig.

“How’s it going with the girl? You won the bet yet?”

The fucking bet. His jaw clenched amidst hearing Hoseok’s words, but he held his composure. He didn’t feel like talking about it.

“I heard she’s Tae’s roommate. He never told me, that sneaky bastard.”

Hoseok took a drag of his joint, the familiar smell clouding Jungkook’s mind as he blew the smoke out into the air. 

“She’s kinda hot, not gonna lie. I think if you’re not fast enough, Tae will try to make a move.”, Jimin added into the conversation, taking the joint from Hoseok’s hand.

Jungkook’s eyes snapped over to him, something piercing through his chest. Tae? And you? 

“Yeah, dude, did you see the way Tae was looking at her at that party here? He’s into her, definitely.”, Hoseok agreed, a grin flashing on his face.

“Gotta step your game up, Kook. You don’t wanna lose the bet, do you?”

“I don’t give a fuck about this stupid bet.”

His words came out harsher than intended, his voice compressed, as his lips were pressed into a thin line. As he brought his cig back to his lips, he ignored the way his hands were trembling slightly.

Hoseok squinted his eyes at him, inspecting him carefully. It was annoying. He was always analyzing them, thinking he knew it all. Maybe he did, but it was still annoying.

“Oh, my god.”, Hoseok exclaimed, his eyes widening, as he pointed his finger toward Jungkook. “You like her.”

He rolled his eyes at him, pushing the remains of his cigarette into the ashtray. 

“I don’t.”

“Yes, you do. You’re being way too obvious, my guy.”

Getting up from his seat, Hoseok walked over to him, bowing down to face him directly. 

“Look me in the eyes and tell me you don’t like her.”

Jungkook stared at him in disbelief, his brows furrowed together. 

“Come on, say it.”

His jaw clenched again, his pride not letting him look away from Hoseok, but his mouth didn’t move. He couldn’t.

And as he realized that he literally couldn’t say it, he basically jumped up from his seat, making his way back into the house.

“I knew it.”, Hoseok yelled behind him. “Kookie’s in his feeelingsss.”

He showed him his middle finger, pulling the door that led outside shut behind him, the emotions erupting in his chest making him feel dizzy. What was going on?

“Excuse me, what?!”

Sori leaned over to you in her chair, her eyes widening in disbelief, as her jaw dropped to the floor. “He did what now?? When? Why? How??”

You pressed your lips together, your gaze wandering over to Tae who was simply looking at you, an unreadable expression on his face.

Silence fell over the room for a second before you sighed, letting yourself sink down into one of the chairs standing around the table. 

“You better tell me everything. Is this the reason why you have been rotting away these past few days?”, Sori asked, moving her seat closer to yours. “I knew something was wrong with you.”

You glanced at her apologetically, only nodding in response. 

Taehyung was looking away by now, his eyes focused on something on the other side of the room, his arms crossed in front of his chest. You saw the way his jaw tensed up.

“It happened on Friday.”, you finally said, avoiding Sori’s burning eye contact. “We were working on our project, when we went outside to smoke. And then I kind of went off about my feelings because he was so annoying that day and then he just kissed me.”

Your voice trailed off towards the end, your eyes snapping down to your hands in your lap, nervously fumbling with the zipper of your jacket. 

“And did you kiss him back?”, Sori asked, raising an eyebrow.

Tae looked back at you and as you caught his gaze something flamed up in his eyes.

“Well…”, you said. "A bit, I guess. But then his phone went off and then I kinda just ran away.”

Groaning, Sori hid her face in the palm of her hands, mumbling some curses under her breath. 

“Why is he so annoying, wow"...", she noted. “He’s so fucking ruthless. Playing with your feelings like that, dude. He deserves some serious beating.”

You huffed at her comment, taking a look at the pizza in the oven to avoid both of their eyes on you.

“Seriously, dude, he’s fucked up. And, Y/N…”, Sori took your hand in her palm, a worried expression painting her face. “I remember exactly how fucking hurt you were because of him. I vividly remember how sad and broken you were. And I don’t want to see my best friend like that ever again. So whatever you do, please be careful around him, okay?”

You blinked at her, her words reaching deep into your soul, as once again the memories from two years ago flashed before your inner eye. 

“Okay.”

He took another sip from the vodka soda in his plastic cup, his mind already clouded with the alcohol in his system. He was back outside but alone this time. The guys were inside playing some card game he didn’t care about, he was just content with the way his beverage was slowly silencing the thoughts about you in his head. It was driving him insane. He would give a lot to talk to you right now, but at the same time it felt like he never wanted to see you again. You made him feel some type of way he wasn’t used to anymore and it scared him. Feelings scared him. You scared him. And so he tried to kill it all off.

Taking another cigarette from his pack, he lit it up, watching the smoke linger in the air in front of him. 

The world was starting to spin around him, his eyesight slowly starting to blur and that was exactly the feeling he was chasing. 

He faintly heard the door behind him open, followed by footsteps approaching him. Namjoon’s tall figure came into his peripheral vision, but he didn’t turn to look at him.

“This is the third night in a row that you’re drinking.”, Namjoon noticed simply, taking a cigarette from Jungkook’s pack and lighting it up. “What’s wrong, kid?”

He cringed internally at the nickname, but he wasn’t mad. He was a lot younger after all. 

“Nothing.”

“Cut the crap. It doesn’t take two brain cells to see that something’s wrong with you.”

Jungkook sighed.

“I don’t want to talk about it.”

“You’re either gonna talk about it or stop drinking. I’m not gonna let yourself drown yourself in self-pity just because you can’t get your shit together.”

His words stung somewhere in his chest but the alcohol numbed it immediately. Namjoon was always so upfront. He guessed that was what happened when one turned old and wise. Although he doubted that he would ever be like that.

He took another sip from his drink, silently choosing the first option Namjoon had given him.

“There is this girl I met again. I’ve known her a few years back and let’s just say…we share some history.”

Namjoon raised an eyebrow, but stayed silent. He knew that he just had to let him talk. 

“I fucked up back then. Badly. And now I don’t know what to do.”

“Do you want her back?”

“I don’t know. I really don’t. There is just something I feel around her. It kinda just developed as I saw her more and more…It’s scary.”

Jungkook’s voice trailed off as he blew his cig’s smoke into the night once more, his gaze stoic.

“A lot has happened with Lou. I can imagine that you’re scared of any feelings at the moment.” 

Jungkook shook his head at Namjoon’s words.

“Lou was a different story, you know that. But she’s part of this as well. It’s complicated.”

They both stood there for a second, smoking and letting the words hang in the air, before Namjoon sat down on one of the chairs at the table. 

“I got time. You can tell me.”

Jungkook scoffed, downing the rest of his drink in one go. It was his fourth cup already. And he already knew that he was going to mix himself a fifth. 

“After the next drink maybe.”

You sat and ate in silence, everyone so deep in their own thoughts, that no one even noticed the silence filling the room. The pizza tasted amazing, but you couldn’t focus on that. You poured yourself another glass of wine, handing the bottle to Sori who also refilled her glass. 

“Should we do a movie night?”, Taehyung suddenly proposed, not looking up from his plate.

He hadn’t talked at all since you had confessed what had happened, so his voice echoing through the kitchen made both you and Sori look up at him.

“I wanna watch this Disney movie for some time now.”, he added, taking another slice of pizza. 

“Sure. I don’t have classes tomorrow.”, Sori chirped, taking a big sip of the beverage. 

Tomorrow was Tuesday. The day you had classes with Jungkook. Maybe you just shouldn’t go. Stay up late and watch the movie and then go study on your own in the library tomorrow. Wasn’t that a good plan? 

You nodded in approval, also taking another slice. 

“I’m in.”

And so the three of you finished your dinner and after washing up you curled together onto the small couch in your living room, all together under one blanket, Taehyung lying next to you. He chose the movie and as the night went on, his body somehow got closer and closer to you. You didn’t mind. Your mind was hazed from the wine and when his fingers slightly brushed over your leg you almost didn’t notice it. Sori kept on making jokes about the movie, while you grew more and more tired, your head slowly falling to the side as you gently drifted into sleep. And as you awoke the next day in your bed, you knew that Taehyung had carried you back into your room after the movie had finished. 

As you planned, you didn’t go to uni that day. And you also didn’t go the next day. Maybe it was avoidant, but you justified it in your mind that you just needed time to understand and process the situation. You simply needed time, right?

Taehyung forced you to go to uni on Thursday and even as you protested, he didn’t let you stay at home. And so your heart was beating loudly in your chest as you stepped into the classroom for the first time in a week again, your eyes automatically searching the room for him. Nervousness was filling your stomach but as class started and he didn’t show up, a mix of relief and disappointment replaced the nervous feeling. Maybe it was good that you didn’t see him. But you couldn’t avoid him forever, could you? 

You didn’t have classes with him on Friday and so another weekend passed by but this one was different from the last. While you still stayed awake at night, your mind recalling the memories of the kiss over and over again, the feeling of it slowly started to fade. The feeling of him around you started to fade. You somehow tried to cling onto it, but he was simply leaving your thoughts. You spent the days with Taehyung and Sori, the anxiety slowly easing out. And when Tuesday came back around you weren’t as nervous as on Thursday.

But he still didn’t show up. 

He didn’t show up on Wednesday either. And on Thursday as well, the chair next to you stayed empty.

And that was when you slowly started to worry. Because he couldn’t just simply disappear. Was he being as avoidant as you? Was he regretting what he did that much for him to simply not come to school anymore? 

Self-doubt crept up into your mind like an ugly shadow and when you came home from uni on Friday, you opened yourself another bottle of wine.

You were home alone, Taehyung was working late and then meeting with some friends that you didn’t know. So there was no one witnessing the self-pity you were displaying, as you poured yourself a big glass and sat down on the couch to watch some Netflix. You needed to get your mind off things.

Tapping through the menu, you chose one of your comfort shows, slowly sipping on the wine and cuddling yourself into the gray blanket that Taehyung had bought for the two of you. And as you sat there, slowly emerging yourself into the different reality of the series, mind drifting away, sleep overcame you once more. 

And it wasn’t until about an hour later that you woke up again. 

Because someone was banging on your door in a matter that made you jump in your seat, knocking over the still half-full glass of wine that was standing next to you on the side table. Confusion settled in your mind, as you stared at the door, questioning yourself if you had simply imagined the noise.

But then there it was again.

A loud, almost aggressive banging.

Cursing under your breath, you got up from the couch, slowly walking toward the entrance. 

Another bang made you flinch, your heart rapidly accelerating in your chest. Did Taehyung forget his keys? Was Sori drunk and came over here because she forgot where she was living again?

Another bang, followed by a different noise.

A voice.

A very familiar voice.

And that was when you opened the door abruptly, your eyes landing on the culprit on the other side.

And it was in fact Jungkook’s dark eyes that looked back at you.

__

[slytherhys]

12 Days of Christmas - ACOTAR Edition

In the spirit of the Holidays, I will be writing & posting short stories about the ACOTAR characters for the next 12 days. Please note that some will be shorter than others and that this is simply meant to be a fun time for everyone that loves these characters as much as I do!

You can also find this series on AO3

11th day of christmas - Secret Santa

On pretty daggers & ambigous flowers - Elriel

When Feyre had first announced they’d be doing a Secret Santa, Azriel had been less than pleased. He was a busy man, not to mention his skills for gift-giving left much to be desired. It wasn’t that he was terrible at it, but he wasn’t good at it either. In fact, the very thought of having to give something to someone nearly sent him spiralling.

He loved his sister-in-law to bits, but truth be told, her ideas rarely did him any good.

His apprehension only seemed to grow as Feyre went on to explain how Secret Santa worked and when it would take place (entirely too soon). Azriel, for his part, could only pray to the mother in hopes that he’d get Cassian. To his brother, at least, he would know what to give. There was some kind of sugary almond treats from Adriata he often moaned about and rarely ate – mainly because he had gotten himself banned from the Summer Court. Azriel could easily drop by Adriata before his next assignment. It’d be easy enough.

Fate, naturally, had other plans.

Azriel blinked down at the piece of parchment he had retrieved from Feyre’s knitted beanie. Then he blinked at his sister-in-law, who was looking at him with entirely too much curiosity on her face. Azriel nodded once, not letting a thing show on his face as he leaned against the wall. He said nothing, did nothing, knowing too well everyone around the room was watching him, waiting for a single clue of who he’d gotten. Azriel just stared ahead blankly, trying not to smirk as both Feyre and Mor grumbled things under their breaths he wasn’t supposed to hear.

He tucked his hand inside the pocket of his leather pants, clenching it around the parchment as if it had personally wounded him. Inside his chest, his heart galloped, sending waves of fire through his body at every unsteady beat. His hearing, too, seemed to grow muted as he looked around the living room, watching his family share secret smiles and an excitement he couldn’t feel.

His past haunted him as loudly as the name tucked away inside his pocket. Only one year ago, a measly gift had nearly undone them before his eyes. What else could he do now but to give it his all? He’d travel across the courts. He’d search every shop, every market, every fair. He wasn’t to be deterred.

One thing was for certain: there was nothing easy about this gift.

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When Azriel walked into the River House exactly two weeks later, he wasn’t feeling more confident in his gift than he had at first. The package weighed close to nothing in his hand, but the concern in his chest seemed to drag him down as he me made his way towards the living room, where everyone was already chatting, eating, and drinking. Azriel silently made his towards the table, serving himself a cup of mead.

His presence, however, didn’t go unnoticed for long. Soon, Feyre was wrapping her arms around him, wishing him a Happy Solstice. Her rosy cheeks and wine-stained lips told him enough, as did Cassian’s slurry greeting. Those two had been drinking for hours already – as had Mor, if the way she announced Amren was her Secret Santa was any indication. Feyre, for one, wasn’t impressed, but there was little she could do when everyone took the hint and started handing out their gifts.

Azriel was grateful for the temporary chaos, his eyes scanning the room for-

“Happy Solstice, Az.” An all-too familiar voice sounded from his left, and Azriel smiled softly as he turned to find Elain staring up at him, her hands behind her back. His name on her lips was a taunt, a flurry of secrets in two syllables alone.

“Happy Solstice, Elain.” He made sure to say her name, entranced by the way her cheeks seemed to darken under his stare. Before he could do something he definitely shouldn’t do – like kiss her or throw her over his shoulder and carry her back to the Town House – Azriel handed her the package in his hand. Elain stared at the plain brown wrapping paper, blinking as her pretty lips rounded into a surprised O.

She smiled sheepishly. “You got me?” She asked, leaning a bit closer. “Or is this a repeat-”

Azriel cleared his voice, embarrassment rushing to his face. “I got you.”

He thought he saw her fight a smirk. “Right.” She said under her breath, gently opening up the gift in her hands. She eyed the leather box, her eyes flickering to Azriel as something secret seemed to charge between them. Azriel glanced at the room beyond them, happy to see everyone to drunk or too distracted to pay them any mind. “Oh.” Elain’s gasp quickly grabbed his attention again, and when he turned to look at her she was holding a dagger in her hands.

The hilt was compact emerald glass, its quillon decorated with flowers made of colourful stones. A gold, damascened inscribed blade made of the strongest yet lightest metal he could find, slightly curved to the left as if to sustain more damaged if she learned how to use it. And he’d make sure she learned. The scabbard set was leather decorated in fine, silvery thread that depicted flower after flower - the very same ones that dotted her garden in the Town House. And then, so tiny you could barely notice it, one pair of bat wings. A secret message just for her - one she quickly recognised, widening her eyes and smiling widely.

It was beautiful as it was practical – something he thought she could come to appreciate, even if she had never asked for another blade after stabbing the King of Hybern in the neck.

“I wasn’t sure if you’d like it.” He muttered, watching her closely for a glimpse of a reaction. There was nothing on her pretty face as she stared at the dagger in her hands. “I thought maybe I could give you some lessons on how to use it.” Elain’s eyes flickered to him at that. “You can use it for gardening if you prefer to do so, of course. I just thought you’d like to learn how to yield it.”

Her lips tugged up. “Did I do so badly the last time around?”

Not in the slightest. That moment alone had saved his brother’s life, and for that alone, Azriel would always be in awe of the woman in front of him. Still, uncapable of not challenging her, he said, “There’s room for improvement.”

Elain hummed, smirking softly as she tilted her head to the side.

“You hated it.” He said indifferently, even if he felt everything but. His chest was close to collapsing on itself. He was glad there were people around them; gladder still that they paid them no mind.

Elain chuckled softly, her soft hand wrapping around the hilt of the dagger. Trying it. Assessing it. Feeling it. “I love it.” She said in disbelief, eyes flickering up to him. “I’d appreciate your lessons.” She glanced at the living room, clearing her throat, and standing a bit straighter as her gaze turned to his. “To improve, of course.”

Azriel smirked, not bothering to see who watched them. His bet was on Feyre. “Of course.”

“Well,” She reached for the table behind her, handing him a perfectly wrapped package – decorated with a sprig of mistletoe and a pretty, rope bow. “This is for you.”

He raised an eyebrow. “You’re my Secret Santa?” 

Elain shrugged, hiding her hands behind her back once again. “Maybe there’s someone looking out for us.”

“Did you ask Feyre to pair us together?” Azriel tilted his head every so slightly. In front of everyone else, is what he didn’t need to add.

“I hardly think Feyre needs further motivation on that end.” She smiled serenely, shaking her head. "But I surely don't mind it."

Azriel shook his head, fighting off the smirk that threatened to break free. He opened the bag in his hands, reaching inside with entirely too much caution, only to pull back a small, cotton sack. Inside, unfamiliar seeds stared back at him. Azriel looked at the woman in front of him, raising his eyebrows in question.

Elain merely smiled. “You seem to enjoy spending time in the garden,” Her eyes glinted under the candlelight surrounding them. “It must be tedious to spend so much time doing so little.” The teasing in her voice would be obvious to no one other than him, something that thrilled him entirely too much.

Azriel didn’t dare say anything, not as he kept staring at the seeds in his hand. The tag read gardenia jasminoides. Gardenias – the very same flowers that had surrounded Elain and Azriel when he last had his head between her legs. He turned to her, unable to keep the smile off his face. The room in front of them was but a mirage, far from something they should be worried about.

She smiled expectantly. “What do you think?”

“I think you’re fucking amazing at this Secret Santa thing.”

“Yeah?” She grinned. “You should see the gift I have for you at the Town House.”

Azriel couldn't help but groan this time around, his imagination running wild. He quickly glanced at the living room before asking, “Tonight?”

Elain simply smirked, starting to step away when she turned around, a saucy smile on her lips. “Bring the mistletoe.” And then she was sauntering off to the desert table without another word. Azriel smiled, his eyes never leaving her form as she reached Nesta, looking at whatever book Rhysand had begrudgingly offered her. He looked down at the gardenia seeds, just as Elain felt for the sheathed dagger in her hand, eyeing her gift with awe.

Neither seemed to notice their High Lady watching them with a pleased smile on her face.

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A/N: I don't think I ever mentioned this, but every single flower I include in my fics has a meaning of some kind 😉 (You can easily find it on google!)

[tieronecrush]

HELLO CONGRATS ON YOUR MILESTONE ILY <3

obviously I am sending you a smut prompt 🛍️ this one makes my brain go fuzzy

“can you look at me? please?”

and I would love that with literally any Pedro boy you like but I'm feeling either Dieter (bc this man is observed constantly but rarely ever seen I think) or Frankie (bc he do be beggin)

TYSM HANNY BANANNY ILY TOO BESTIE

the idea of dieter asking to be seen just overcame me when i sat down to write this so it is him <3

dieter bravo x f!reader

18+ ONLY, MDNI - no other warnings on my drabbles

After midnight on this random Saturday night, or technically Sunday morning, you find yourself in the bed of your latest match off of your new dating app — Dieter.

Academy Award-Winning actor Dieter fucking Bravo.

To be fair, you hadn’t seen the film he won for, Hunger Strike, and only saw stuff about his featured role in Cliff Beasts 6 and the documentary that was made out of the behind-the-scenes shitshow that was creating that movie.

To you, it had been a fluke that you’d been accepted onto Raya, the app you’d matched with him through. You garnered a generous amount of Instagram followers for posting your art, and have ended up having an extremely successful career selling your originals and prints. During a wine night with your friends, you’d been drunkenly convinced to apply for an invitation onto the app — one of your friends had been accepted a few months before and had been basically a reference for you. It was all very official, and it had gotten you some pretty good matches: actors, YouTubers, photographers, agents, and more.

This was new for you though — it was normally one dinner or drinks, or heading straight to the hookup. You’d done minimal chatting before all of these meetups, but things were different with Dieter. He’d messaged you first, and you’ve been talking for at least two weeks and FaceTiming while he’s been finishing up filming in Canada.

He was actually kind of…sweet.

There was no pressure in your conversations, and no awkward silences when you FaceTimed. His messages made you laugh, made you smile, even gave you butterflies when he complimented your work or called you “a spectacularly arresting genius.”

And after all of those days and nights spent getting to know each other and exchanging spiraling ideas from your chaotic minds, you have ended up here in his California king with the softest linen sheets you’ve ever felt — currently straddling him after he made you come with his fingers and his mouth.

He fills you up completely when you’re fully seated on his hips, soft whimpers echoing through his massive primary bedroom. His fingertips are gripping tight to your hips, surely leaving bruises under their wake when he moves them to your thighs to give you full mobility of your hips.

“Fuck, babygirl, you’re a fucking vision over me right now.”

He sits up, one arm wrapping around your back as a moan of your name leaves his lips at the feeling of you finally starting to ride him, lifting and grinding your hips around his cock. His mouth latches onto one of your breasts, kissing the velvety skin and sucking at your nipple. The pleasure stutters your movements, a gasp projecting from your lungs when Dieter fucks up into you, his slapdash pace shaking your thighs as his hit against you.

“Oh my god, Dieter…” Your breathy call to him is punctuated with a high-pitched whine, your head rolling back and eyes screwed shut. All you can manage to reciprocate is circling your hips while his cock drives hard against your walls, the tip of him nailing that spongy spot in you with every thrust. A vice grip is taut through your forearms and hands, digging your nails into the skin of his broad shoulders.

“Can you look at me? Please?” The sincerity in his tone snaps your head forward and your eyes blink open, finding him less than a foot away from you. Steamy air spills from both of your ajar mouths, the tenderness — no, the vulnerability in his eyes is palpable. The intensity of his stare glues yours to his, the only exchanges besides flashes of pleasure in irises being sultry exhales that you both swallow from the other.

“Tell me how it feels for you, babygirl. Wanna hear your voice, please.”

You struggle at first to find any words for this moment, finally clearing all the jumbled thoughts about him to give you something to say.

“I feel so…connected to you. Hasn’t ever felt like this before. Like, a whole ‘nother level…”

“I feel it too, babygirl. Can’t even describe it, really. You fit me like a puzzle piece — your sweet pussy, your curves against me, even your fucking wildly brilliant brain. Could do this all day and night with you, baby, if it always feels like this.”

“Fuck, Dieter, ‘m close, I-I—”

“Let go, beautiful girl, come for me. Wanna feel you all over me, squeezing me.”

It’s a fall from grace — if you could call what you were doing graceful. Blinding hot pleasure radiates all over your skin, vibrating at every point he is connected to you. His name falls from your lips over and over, even a soft thank you thrown in the midst of your visions of heaven. Dieter was guiding you through the winding orgasm, his own hips continuing to hit up against your thighs before they stutter, his warm release coating your walls and extending your euphoria while you watch him come undone under you.

Chests rise and fall at an exponentially slower rate while you both float down, coming back into your bodies and locking into that same intense eye contact from before. It’s a silent transfer of energy until Dieter breaks the quiet first, his palms skating up your thighs with a trail of goosebumps.

“Is it too soon to ask to see you again?”

[tallymonster]

Memories of Us

chapter 13 tonight, tonight

AO3

Masterpost

Thanks to my besties @micropoe10 and @tragedybunny for helping me out with this one. I appreciate the feedback as always my loves 😘

Another huge thanks to @cheesy-cryptid for the love they give this little story.

This particular chapter is heavily influenced by the smashing pumpkins song of the same name.

Tags: @justporo @satanicspinosaurus @sleepy-timaeus @davenswitcher @wayward-hel

13.

Tonight, tonight

No.

No no nonono

What the fuck????

Octavia feels as if the wind has completely been taken out of her whole body. She was absolutely frozen in her seat. The only sound she could hear was the sound of her heart wildly pounding in her throat.

There's no way I heard that right, is there?

Did he just say he was a godsdamned vampire?

His confession startled her to her core. How could she not put two and two together?

Astarion studied her face, the color faded from it, her breath hitches as her mind became absolutely undone. Suddenly, she started quickly rambling.

“Is this why you wear those glasses?! How do you even hide your eye color? What about your fangs? You have those right?” Octavia couldn't stop the words from coming out of her mouth long enough to put her foot in it.

Astarion laughs defensively “Slow down! One question at a time! Yes, that's what the glasses are for. Gale enchanted them to change my eye color, and yes, I have fangs but I use a disguise spell to hide them.”

Hold on…

GALE KNOWS?!

How long has he known about Astarion? Is this what he was talking about when he said Astarion had his “quirks”? That asshole kept this from her this whole time? This was all too much, too new. Her mind begins to scramble as she tries to look for all the missing clues from these past 6 months.

Octavia begins to spiral a little, replaying all the conversations they've had in the half year she's been around him. Astarion’s eyes were as red as the wine they had just drank, is she sure this isn't an alcohol induced dream? Is he going to kill her and drink her blood?

“Octavia? Darling?” She blinks and finds herself still under the blanket with a nervous Astarion.

The subtle signs of his condition are plainly obvious this close, the pallor of death on his skin becoming clearer by the second. The scent on his skin is of rosemary, bergamot, bone dust and wood with a hint of decay.

Her eyes survey every inch of his face. The way his brows are furrowed into a worried stare, his eyes are fully rounded with a pleading look tinged with fear and anxiety. She shakes herself out of her haze, what the fuck was she supposed to say now?

“I don't know what to think..you- you're a vampire?? This is how you're always appearing out of nowhere...it's why you're always “traveling”... This is why you asked to come over after dark..Are you serious??”

Octavia’s voice is low, pensive, and she shook a bit, the realization of their positions hitting her immediately. She straightens up and slides back a little. “How long?” She asks with a twinge of curiosity, her eyes are filled with anticipation and fear.

Astarion takes a deep breath and responds just as quietly “Around 300 years…give or take…” Octavia keeps her eyes on his, “How did you survive? Did you kill anyone?” she asks in quick succession, he could hear her pulse skyrocket.

Astarion answers, slightly taken aback at her bluntness, “No, I didn't kill anyone, I ate animal blood to survive. I haven't had any blood from anyone in a very long time. Only ever from one person, but they're long gone. They were my only one.” She could see the heartbreak in his face, hear it in his voice, and feel it in his hand squeezing down on hers.

“Astarion…” she speaks softly, she catches herself as he lets out a shaky breath. “I’m sorry, I didn't mean to..” she plays with the blanket, trying to calm herself down.

“It’s fine, darling.” Astarion begins, “Actually, you're reacting a lot better than I expected. You aren't even a little scared, very inquisitive in fact? Usually people aren't too keen on having a vampire in their home, under a blanket, holding hands in a very intimate position.”

Octavia shifts her legs, “Oh, I am one hundred percent terrified. You do prove a good point though, you could absolutely kill me, but I don't think you will. I don't get that feeling from you. I mean you did just spill your guts to me emotionally. A wounded soul, possibly, but a killer or a monster? I don't think so. Unless you're going to kill me right now?”

Octavia swallows the bubble in her throat, “Don't forget, you asked me to trust you that night after the fundraiser, I don't see why I should stop now. I mean it's probably a terrible idea that will come back to haunt me isn't it?” She laughs with a small huff.

“You know, you remind me of them, the last person that trusted me like this. Same terrible decision making.” Astarion’s voice is hesitant, veiled by a thin defensiveness. “I hope I can trust myself this time. I would hate to lose you. I can't explain it, but you feel nostalgic to me. It's like we’ve been here before.” He presses his forehead to hers, looking back into her eyes.

Octavia wraps her arms around his neck and pulls him into a hug. He tenses up for a second, then melts into her touch. He runs his hands up her back, pressing her chest into his. His head rested on the crook of her neck, inhaling her sweet flowery perfume. They embrace in silence, the crackling of the fireplace far off in the distance.

After a few moments, Octavia pulls away from him. She’s still scared and doesn't want him to sense it, so she places her hand on his cheek and for the first time ever, she notices the puncture marks on his neck.

She swallows and clears her throat. “Can I ask you one more thing? I mean…if it's okay obviously?” Astarion nods, lowering his hands to her hips. “How were you turned? What did it feel like to die?” she catches herself again and grimaces.

“That's two questions, sweetheart.” Astarion states quietly with his guard up, he takes his hands off her and places them in his lap. Octavia can feel the embarrassment coming from him, and immediately backtracks “I'm sorry, I was genuinely curious. Forget I said anything.”

Astarion shakes his head and laughs softly, “Octavia, give me a minute. Please? I want to answer you, but you have to let me think for a moment, darling.” He takes a deep breath and throws his head back on the backrest of the couch.

“I was a magistrate back when I was alive. I did something a group of people didn't like. They beat the shit out of me and left me to die. Then, this…fucking piece of shit…” Astarion’s voice trembles and Octavia sees the fury build in his eyes, stuck between comforting him and allowing him to continue. She picks the latter.

Octavia shakes her head and pulls him close to her into a tight hug. “You don't have to keep going if you don't want to.” Astarion feels the same way he felt when he explained all this to Tav, the anger at the situation that both robbed him of his previous life and given him the chance to sit here with Octavia.

Astarion held her in his arms for a few minutes before pulling away and speaking. “I’d like to finish if you don't mind. I'd rather just get this over with all at once to be perfectly honest.” He sighs deeply and speaks.

“Anyway, long story short, I got turned into a vampire by a slaver, kept hidden away and then when he died I uh…I was free in a way. Mostly free to explore the world, meet people…make friends…” he leaves out the most important details of course, his voice trails off for a moment before he clears his throat and continues.

“Fall in love…but all of those people and events have passed me by. I’ve been alone for around 150 years. More or less.” Astarion finishes, the air around them felt heavy and morose. They sit in the stillness of the house, the fire’s crackling punctuating the turmoil he feels inside.

Eventually, Octavia breaks, “Last one and I swear I'm done.” Her quiet voice cut through his sorrow, but her curiosity was clearly out of concern and genuine affection. So Astarion pushes through and allows her to ask, grimacing as he lays back on the couch. “Fine, but can we please be done after this?”

“Yes, we can. I promise this is it, and this one is more just me wondering, honestly. Can you eat food? I mean you just sat here and ate dinner…you aren't actually full right? Is that something I need to worry about before you kill me?” Octavia fiddles with her fingers anxiously.

Astarion on the other hand has a full frown on his face. His eyes are wide, nostrils flared, and brows furrowed into a clearly irritated expression. Octavia has absolutely fucked up. She gulps and prays she didn't just say the worst possible thing she could have.

“Did no one ever teach you to count properly? That was three questions. Actually, I have one of my own. Do you have stronger wine? Perhaps you can mix some wyrm toxin in it for me to drink?” He folds his arms in annoyance and sinks into the couch.

“Well, to answer your three questions.” He shoots an extremely pointed look, “Yes, I can eat food. Doesn't taste like anything and I usually do it to blend into crowds and not rouse suspicion onto myself. No, I’m not full and NO, I am not going to kill you.” He hisses out the final part and sulks more.

Octavia couldn't stop herself from asking even though it was a stupid idea and he would probably say no.

“Do you want to drink my blood?”

Astarion stares at Octavia with wide eyes, the thought had crossed his mind on a few occasions. Particularly, after their first kiss when he felt her pulse spike. He wasn't sure if the heat he suddenly felt in his cheeks was from the fireplace, the blanket, or her suggestion.

He definitely felt his mouth begin to water, though. The thought of her neck under his tongue was enough to fluster him, he stammers back an answer to distract from the invasive thoughts that immediately flooded his mind.

“I- I uh,” he gulps, finding that he's suddenly at a loss for words. The hunger and confusion are battling in his head, was she being serious right now? “Are you fucking with me? Are you really offering to let me drink your blood? Weren't you just asking if I was going to kill you? Sudden change of heart, dear?”

Octavia honestly had no way to properly answer that. She mostly just wanted to help, so she tells the truth. “I hate the thought of you starving yourself. I don't want you to do that. I…I want to help you. Besides, I’m old enough to make my own decisions. Whether or not they're terrible and get me killed, well, I guess that's the risk I'm willing to take tonight.”

Anything to distract you from my own secrets.

“Will it hurt? If I..offer?” She says the last word with a tremble, biting her lip. Astarion sits up, letting the blanket slide down his shoulders and gather around his waist. The conversation is taking a strange turn, no doubt, but he doesn't want to make it seem like he's too eager. “You don't have to, I can hunt an animal later. I'll make it work, Octavia, I always have.”

Octavia's face immediately begins to flush, obviously he would say no, but tonight is apparently the night to keep making terrible choices. “But…. I'm here now and I want to help you.” she swallows the shivering breath caught in her throat. Why does it suddenly feel so hot in the room?

Astarion’s mind begins to race, this is definitely not where he thought this night would go. He felt like had control of himself most times but this was testing those limits.

“Octavia…” his voice is low and cautious, “are you positive about this? Once I do this..” He drops his gaze to her neck, she could see him gulping. “I don't think we can go back to how we were.”

The atmosphere in the room was quickly becoming thick and intimate, Octavia was falling into its enticing web. She felt her blood pressure going through the roof, the voice inside was shouting at her:

Do it! Do it! DO IT!

“I’ll do it.” Octavia speaks quickly, her words sounded faint and fuzzy. Her own voice echoes in the back of her mind. “I mean it, I want to help you.” She pulls her hair back behind her, exposing her neck. Astarion breathes in sharply, his lungs felt like they would rupture from the sudden expansion.

“Wait!” He places a hand on her wrist, pulling it towards himself slowly. “It'll hurt quite a bit if I do it on your neck. Wrist would be much more comfortable…” Astarion clears his throat to try to hide that he was somewhat lying, he just couldn't bite her neck yet.

It would be too much, too soon. He would have to ease them both into this before he took it too far.

“Uhh…sure, you're the expert, I guess.” Octavia is silently thanking all the Gods that he chose not to bite her neck. She doesn't think she could handle him on her neck, it was way too intimate, the idea made her stomach drop.

Astarion holds her wrist up to his lips, Octavia shudders a bit when she feels his breath on her skin. “Take a deep breath okay? This won't hurt a lot, but it'll still feel slightly uncomfortable. Just relax, and it’ll be over before you know it.”

Octavia nods and prepares herself. Suddenly, he bites into her wrist, a sharp pain eased by a dull ache. She feels the rush of her blood flowing between them, then the icy chill of his tongue lapping at it. Her heart pumps wildly as he coaxes the liquid into his mouth.

He holds her arm tightly as he drinks from her. Octavia feels her whole body heat up as she watches his lips pucker up as he latches onto her veins. His skin started to look more flushed as he continued to feed off her.

To Astarion, her blood was pure sunshine, it tasted like the sweetest berries mixed in exquisite liquor. A luxurious indulgence after over a century of thirst. He couldn't help the greediness that followed that first drop, he needed more, he was trapped in her flavor, one that feels like it's been on his tongue before.

She watches him silently, her heart racing harder. She began to feel a bit light headed, the way his lips looked around her wrist shot little pricks of excitement into her.

Octavia was losing the battle in her head, she found this whole thing strangely arousing? Definitely not the feeling she was expecting. She had to look away, why was this happening to her?

Oh Gods, was he always this hot?

Why does this feel so good??

Am I getting turned on by this?!

Astarion is distracted by the warmth of her blood running through his veins. He opens his eyes and notices the way her skin is flushed. His gaze continues up to her face and he sees her in the middle of her own world.

Octavia’s lips are parted, head thrown back with her eyes closed. She looks absolutely delicious. He's lost in the bliss of feeding on her when he hears her soft moans.

“Oh, fuck…”

Wait….did I say that out loud????

Octavia's eyes shoot open and her head turns down to Astarion. Her breath is ripped out from her lungs by the way she notices Astarion looking at her. His eyes were even darker now that the blood had settled in his veins.

Astarion slowly stops sucking on her wrist, releasing it with a gentle kiss. He keeps his eyes locked onto hers as he continues to kiss up her arm. She bites down on her lip, sensing the change in his mood.

They're both breathing heavily, the air becomes incredibly thick. Astarion can't help the increasing need to kiss her. Octavia gets the sense that she's just become his prey, a little snack for a starving hunter.

His eyes become cat-like and slanted. She felt like he was about to devour her from the way he licked her blood off his lips.They kept staring at each other for a few moments, neither wanting to be the first to react.

The tension finally breaks as they lunge forward, crashing their lips together.

[arielhopepeace]

Sorry this part took a bit! Been getting ready to move and now I’m sick lol 😭 but enjoy and check part 1 for more extensive TWs, please ❤️

TW: smut, dirty talk, talk of sexual trauma

18+ only

5,400 words

Part two

My leg bounces about anxiously beneath my desk, constantly checking and re-checking the clock in the bottom right hand corner of my computer screen. It's nearly five, and I'm more than ready to go home and enjoy my weekend. But as every day passes, I become more apprehensive about my date with Joel tomorrow.

Of course he was wonderful, kind, a damn good kisser, and hot beyond belief, but I'm still terrified. Without any sedative-like influence from the alcohol, I'm back to the withered shell of a woman I was when Joel walked into my office.

I can't believe I was fully prepared to sleep with him the other night. I had convinced myself that I was safe enough to do something like that with him, and I'm glad I didn't. What if I kiss Joel again and I panic? Or what if we're ever intimate and I panic? What will he do? Laugh in my face and continue anyway?

No, not Joel. He's too sweet for that, right?

Obviously my libido is calling the shots rather than my rational anxiety. It's been eight years since I've slept with anyone, and I'm jumping into this way too quickly for my liking. Am I crazy? Next time I'm with him, I'm not drinking any alcohol. I need to be myself and not a sedated, sex obsessed freak.

My eyes flutter closed, my lashes dancing against my cheeks as I recall Joel's hands on my body, and his soft, skilled lips against mine. Of course he was eager, he's a man. Is that why he fixed my washer? To get laid?

Part of me is tempted to go off on him for being such a disgusting pervert, but he hasn't done anything to me. My mind is fabricating all of these scenarios and reasons for his kindness when even I know it's probably out of character for Joel.

He's a single dad who lost his wife nine years ago, and who's devoted to his daughter who he's crazy about. Joel seems to be an incredible father. There's no way a man like that would ever try to hurt me, is there?

"Y/n?" I hear from my open office door.

"Yes?" My eyes snap up to see Cynthia, my secretary.

She smiles wide at me. "Are you done for the day?"

I gaze down to see that it's ten after five, meaning I've been sitting here spiraling over Joel for almost twenty minutes.

"Yes," I sigh with a smile. "More than done. I'm ready for the weekend."

Cynthia walks beside me as we leave the building, our cars being parked next to each other's outside.

"You have any exciting plans?" she asks with a large grin.

I decide to not tell her about Joel. "Nah, just me and my wine. You?"

"Ex-husband has the kids this weekend, so I'm probably going to be doing the same as you," she giggles. "Get home safely, y/n, okay?"

"Thanks, Cynthia. You too."

  When I get home, I see a lovely bouquet of flowers sitting on my doorstep along with a note. I beam as I unlock my front door, placing the flowers on the kitchen counter and fishing the little card out of the leaves.

Y/n

I'm excited for tomorrow night. I hope you enjoy these flowers as much as I enjoy your company.

Joel

My face aches as I hold the card to my chest, feeling like I'm in a movie or something. I read the note several times, my mouth curling up wider and wider every time. Who knew my cheeks could stretch this far?

I carry the flowers into my bedroom, setting them on the nightstand beside my bed with the card leaning against the pretty blue vase.

I immediately press on Joel's contact, hoping that he's done working for the day. With every ring of the line, my apprehension climbs, until I hear that low, inviting burr of Joel's voice.

"Hey, you," he says sweetly. "I'm assuming you got my gift."

My cheeks burn as I beam at the floor. "I did. Thank you. You didn't have to get me anything, you know."

Joel chuckles lightly. "I wanted to."

The line goes quiet for a moment before Joel speaks again.

"Can I be honest with you?" he asks.

My heart jumps into my throat. "Of course."

"I haven't stopped thinking about you, y/n."

"Same here, honestly," I laugh sheepishly. "I feel like I'm going crazy."

He laughs, the sound warming my chest. "You know, I haven't been on many dates since my wife passed. Maybe only two."

My brows raise in surprise. "Really? How come?"

"Never felt right."

I chew on my bottom lip nervously. "But it does with me?"

"Mhmm," he hums, "very right."

"I guess I should be honest with you too and tell you I haven't been with anyone in eight years."

"What?!" Joel chokes out. "Why? How?"

I swallow hard, shaking my head. "I'd rather talk about it in person. It's—awkward."

"You don't have to tell me if it makes you uncomfortable, y/n. You never have to do anything you're not comfortable with."

My eyes feel misty at his comforting words, but my mind is screaming at me to keep my walls up. "Thanks, Joel."

"Of course, y/n. As I said, you shouldn't be thanking me for the bare minimum. I'm sorry for whatever guy made you think that's all that you deserve."

Deciding to change the subject before I panic, I quickly swallow my fear that's clawing its way up my throat. "Uh—what time should I meet you tomorrow? And where are we going?"

"I could pick you up, if you want. I'd like it to be a surprise." He audibly smiles in his words.

I can't help but giggle. "Okay, that's fine. Could at least tell me the attire?"

"Hmm, I don't know. Casual-slash-nice? I'll be wearing a button-down and some jeans. Nothing too fancy."

I nod my head, planning my outfit already. "That sounds good to me. What time will you be here?"

"Six-thirty okay with you?"

"That sounds perfect."

"I'll see you tomorrow then, y/n. I have to attempt to make a good dinner for Sarah and I. I told you I was a shit cook, but I do practice so that she's not eating crap food all the time."

I laugh, flopping onto my back on my bed. "You're a good dad, Joel."

"I do my best."

"I'll see you tomorrow."

"Bye, y/n."

We hang up, and I toss my phone to the side, staring at my ceiling.

Am I making the right choice by going out with him? I won't have any way of getting home if things go poorly, or if he switches and is no longer the man I'm assuming he is. What if he's exactly like...him? I hate saying his name, or even thinking it. Joel can't be evil like him, can he?

***

  I'm straightening out my powder blue sundress when there's a knock on my front door. My hands are shaky and I feel like my knees are going to buckle at any moment. Taking a steadying breath, I pull open the front door, revealing a stunning, handsome Joel before me.

He's donned in a black button-up as he said, and dark blue jeans with black dress shoes on his feet. His hair is lightly tamed with some gel, adding a bit of shine to the  deep brown strands.

I feel winded at his appearance, and I'm suddenly hoping he feels the same about me. I've done my makeup to the best of my ability, and even went the extra mile to straighten my hair. Even with my heels on, Joel is still taller than me, and I don't know why I enjoy that so much.

"Wow," he breathes out, still standing on my doorstep. "I can't believe you're my date tonight."

My heart soars as I blush, looking down to my floor to try to focus my gaze elsewhere. "Thank you. You look amazing, Joel."

He scoffs. "Next to you, I look like a bum."

I giggle, meeting his soft brown eyes and the straightness of his teeth. "Are you ready?"

Joel nods, reaching his hand out for mine. "If you are."

Tossing all of my anxiety and negative thoughts aside, I grab his hand, locking my front door behind me as he leads me to his truck. He opens the door for me and helps me in, his hand letting go once I'm settled in to the passenger seat.

My eyes follow him as he walks around the front, getting in beside me behind the steering wheel. We gaze at each other for a moment, my focus falling to his delicate lips that I've missed the feeling of, no matter how hard I've tried to deny that fact. I want to want him without feeling afraid, but I can't help it.

"Kiss me," I say gently.

Joel immediately leans forward with his hand on the back of my neck, pulling me into him firmly. His lips are so soft, and his tongue is back again in its eager, talented way. I can't help but moan, his tongue the match that struck across my body to wrap it in delicious flames.

He pulls away, both of us a bit winded from the kiss. "How the hell do you kiss like that if you haven't been with anyone in eight years?"

I giggle slightly as I shrug. "You're a good guide."

Joel chuckles and leans fully away, holding his hand out for me as he keeps the other on the steering wheel, pulling away from my house. I gently slide my fingers into his, feeling euphoric and safe in his truck with him.

Not seeing him for a few days has only made my attraction grow tremendously. How does he melt all of my fears away just by being around me? Nobody has ever done that for me before, or maybe I just never let anybody try. Why am I letting him in?

  We park in front of a swanky restaurant, one that I've always passed, but never eaten at. It's New Orleans style food served in a comfortable, yet classy environment. I've always wanted to try it, but it seemed odd to come here alone, even though that's what I prefer.

Joel holds my hand as we walk in, the host guiding us to a table once he tells her the name for our party. The air smells heavenly. It's like Cajun food and Texan food had a baby and this restaurant is the outcome. God bless whoever came up with this place.

The server orders our drinks, and I opt out of getting wine. Joel orders an appetizer for us, my eyes scanning the menu as he does.

"No wine?" he sneers playfully at me. "Thought you were a wine lover."

"I am," I laugh, "but I'd like to be more connected this time."

Joel nods. "That's why I didn't order any beer. I still have to drive you back home, too."

Against everything my brain is telling me, I reach beside me at the table and rub Joel's thigh gingerly. I keep my eyes on the menu, my hand shaking as I bring it to a stop against his pants.

Joel reaches down and grabs my hand, bringing it up to his lips and placing a gentle kiss against it. My gaze moves from the menu to his, seeing the slight concern etched into his face.

"Y/n," he says gently, "you're shaking again."

"I'm sorry," I say quickly. "I guess I'm nervous."

"About what?"

I shake my head. I can't tell him about my traumatic past on our first date, can I? He'll think I'm crazy and divulging way too much information for someone I barely know. It's not like me to open up, but I feel compelled to with him. I want him to know that it's not his fault that I'm so fucking terrified all the time.

"I don't know," I say softly. "I'm sorry."

Joel's brows knit together with worry. "Do you want me to take you home?"

God. That simple question has my anxiety skyrocketing down; that reassurance that if I need to leave at any given moment apparently being all I needed to calm down.

I give him a warm smile, leaning across the corner of the table to place a gentle kiss against his stubbly cheek. "No. I want to be here with you."

He beams at me, kissing my knuckles again. "You're not shaking anymore."

"I know," I beam, turning back to the menu. "Everything sounds so damn good. What are you thinking about getting?"

"Honestly the gumbo sounds amazing, and I've never had any."

"Ooo," I coo, nodding. "That does sound good."

  After our food is brought out, Joel takes a generous bite of his dish as I dig into mine. The flavor of everything bursts in my mouth, and I let out a moan of contentment. It's incredible, and I can't believe I've never eaten here before.

Joel holds out his spoon for me with his steaming food piled onto it. "You've gotta try this."

I lean forward and take the spoon between my lips, groaning with a nod as I enjoy the taste of his meal.

"God, that's amazing." I pierce my own food with my fork, holding it out for Joel. "Now try mine."

Watching his lips slide across my fork does something sinful to me, and I'm not entirely sure why.

"This might be the best food I've ever had," he beams.

"I can't believe you haven't eaten here before. This is my favorite restaurant."

"It felt weird to come here alone," I laugh, placing my fork down to sip my water.

Joel eyes me with a glimmer in his eye. "Well, now you don't have to."

My cheeks warm as I break the eye contact, unable to hold it any longer. Although his eyes are kind and gentle, there's something so intimidating about them. Maybe it's because I'm so attracted to him, but god I can't look into them for too long.

  We finish our meals and I go to pay, but Joel quickly grabs my card from me, slamming his down into the checkbook instead.

"Absolutely not," he shakes his head as we both laugh. "You can be a control freak all you want on your own time, but I'm paying for dinner tonight."

I giggle loudly, crossing my arms as I do my best to act offended. "Only I can call me a control freak."

He holds up his hands in defense. "I was only quoting you"

I playfully shove him, watching as the server walks away with the bill. "I want to pay for the next date."

Joel leans on the table on his elbows, handing me my card back. "Oh, there's going to be a next date?"

My eyes land on his, admiring the deep chocolate river that flows in them. "Yes."

"Maybe I like that you're a control freak," he beams, his eyes floating down to my lips. "It's charming."

"Charming?" I guffaw. "You don't think I'm crazy?"

"Of course not," he laughs. "Everyone has their quirks, and I want to learn all of yours."

My gaze softens. "Really?"

Joel nods. "Really."

  Back at my house, Joel walks me to the front door, giving me a long, lingering kiss before I unlock it.

"Would you like to come in?" I ask somewhat timidly.

He nods with a smile, stuffing his hands into his pockets. "We could watch a movie again, if you wanted."

I beam. "I'd like that a lot."

We enter my house, and I immediately kick off my heels, picking them up by the backs and carrying them into my bedroom. I put them away where they belong, checking my reflection in the mirror to make sure I'm tidy and presentable enough for Joel.

He stands near the couch, my eyes flicking down to his shoes. "You can take those off if you want."

Joel chuckles. "Do you not like shoes on in the house?"

I smirk, walking up beside him. "No, not really."

He laughs, bending down and slipping his shoes off to leave them by the front door near the little entrance carpet.

We sit on the couch, my thumb clicking on the remote to go to any streaming service.

"Do you have to be back to Sarah any time soon?" I ask, suddenly worrying that I'm taking up too much of his time.

"No," he smiles. "I told Mrs. Cheshire that it might be a late night. She knows I'm on a date."

Hearing him say that makes me beam vastly, gazing into his soft eyes. "Yeah, you are."

Joel chuckles, leaning in and placing a soft kiss to my cheek. "What do you want to watch?"

"Anything. How about I stop being a control freak and let you pick?"

He laughs, nodding as he takes the remote from me. "Any particular genre you like to avoid?"

"I'm good with anything, really." My eyes admire his beautiful profile. "You pick."

Joel ends up landing on a rom-com, making my lips tweak up as I giggle. He laughs with me, throwing his arm around my shoulders as I lean into his chest. He smells incredible; the scent warm and musky yet clean. I inhale him deeply, needing more of him.

My head turns up to face his, admiring the stubble along his jaw. Joel flicks his gaze down to look at me, giving me a gentle smile.

"What?" he asks quietly as the movie plays in the background.

"You're a handsome man, Joel."

He chuckles, shaking his head. "It blows my mind that you think that."

"You're delusional."

"No, you're just that beautiful."

My lips attach to his in an instant, a hungry, needy feeling washing over me. I'm consumed by my own greed to have him near, desperate to have him closer. I slip my tongue against his, savoring the taste of Cajun food and Joel.

His hands rest on my hips, gripping them tightly as he begins to push me back onto the couch. My head hits the cushion gently as our lips never part, the weight of him feeling—suffocating and overwhelming. The horrible thoughts begin to flood my mind, and I do my best to push them away. But Joel is on me, devouring my mouth and keeping his grip on my hips. I can't do it. It's too much.

"Joel," I breathe, my chest beginning to heave.

"Yes, y/n?" he rasps, his lips on my neck.

"No!" I shout, pushing at his shoulders roughly.

He immediately flies back, fear and confusion staining his wonderful, beautiful face. "Y/n, hey, what's wrong? Are you okay?"

Before even realizing it, I'm crying and shaking, curling into myself on my cushion that I was just pressed against moments ago. I close my eyes, hoping that it'll vanish. Whether it's the thoughts or Joel, I don't care. I just need them to go away.

"Remember the breathing?" he says quietly, sounding so far away it's like I'm floating in space. "Breathe with me, y/n."

My hands are over my ears, and my eyes are squeezed shut. I slowly open them to look at Joel, watching his chest inflate and deflate slowly. I follow his rhythm, moving my hands slowly away from my head to hear his deep breaths. He encourages me, smiling gently with those soft eyes of his melting me.

His hand slowly reaches out to grab mine and I let him, watching as he places it against his heart. It's racing against my palm, but his breathing is easy and calm.

"Joel," I begin, but he shushes me gently.

"Just keep breathing for a minute. Follow mine."

We sit there gazing at each other, easily breathing in and out for a few minutes until both of our hearts are no longer pounding hard against our chests.

"I need to tell you something," I say, hanging my head.

Joel brings my hand to his lips, kissing my knuckles. "I'm sorry, y/n."

My brows pitch up. "What for?"

"I came on too strong and I scared you. I'm so sorry. I didn't mean to."

"No," I shake my head. "Joel, it's not your fault."

His vast, saddened eyes search mine, wrenching my heart. "I never want to scare you, y/n."

"Please, it's not your fault, I promise."

He nods, kissing my knuckles again.

"I haven't been with anyone in eight years because I was—" Words fail me, and I seem incapable of explaining what happened to me in this moment.

"You were what?" Joel asks gently.

"T-taken advantage of by my ex-boyfriend and his friend when I was seventeen."

Joel's face twists with disgust, and the tenderness has left his eyes. "My god, I'm so sorry, y/n."

"No," I shake my head, "please don't pity me. I don't want your pity."

He gingerly reaches out and cups my face, my cheek pushing more into his touch. "It's not pity, y/n. It's compassion."

A tear falls from my eye, and Joel swipes it with his thumb. "I panicked when you first took me to the supply store for the washer hose because I was scared I wouldn't come back home. With—him—I had no way of leaving. I was trapped."

Joel frowns. "Honey, you didn't have to go with me."

I smile faintly at the pet name. "But I wanted to. I wanted to spend time with you."

"Y/n, listen to me," he cups my face in both hands, "we don't ever have to do anything you're uncomfortable with. I don't care what it is, it won't happen if you're uncomfortable. Do you hear me?"

I nod. "I still want you, Joel. I want you so badly."

"We don't have to rush into anything. I haven't even slept with anyone in years. I'll wait for you, y/n. I want to wait until you're ready."

My eyes soften as I hang my head. "God, you're amazing, you know that?"

"I'm not amazing, y/n. I'm just being a decent human. You're still fragile, and I don't want to—"

I scowl. "I'm not fragile."

Joel frowns slightly. "I didn't mean to offend you, I just don't want you doing something if it's too soon."

"Joel, I've spent the last eight years being terrified of men. You're the first man I've let kiss me in eight years. I'm not a porcelain doll. I'm a woman that's healing, and you're helping me put on the band-aids."

He smiles gently. "I'm the luckiest damn man in the world."

I scoff, sniffling a bit. "You think you're lucky because you have a trauma victim that likes you?"

"You're not that to me at all," he shakes his head. "To me, you're a strong woman who's beginning to trust. And only god knows why I'm the one who made you want to start. I'm just happy to be here with you."

My body leans forward, wrapping my arms around his neck as I push our chests together. Our lips and tongues connect effortlessly, like it's second nature for us at this point. I fling my leg over his, straddling him and pinning his thighs to the cushion.

"Y/n," Joel pulls away, his eyes searching mine, "please, if you're not ready—"

"Shut up, Joel," I tell him, reattaching our lips.

My fingers are in his hair, his hands on my hips as I gently rock them back and forth against him. I can feel how hard he is beneath me, and it only spurs me on further.

I've never ridden anyone before, but it doesn't take an expert to figure out how to do it. My hands fumble with the buttons of his shirt, our lips never leaving each other's as I work at his shirt.

"Touch me," I breathe against his lips, continuing our kiss.

Joel's hands stay at my hips, rubbing them tenderly.

His shirt lays open, and I part our kiss to give him a look of disapproval. "Joel, I didn't tell you the truth so that you'd be scared of me." I bring his hands up from my hips to my breasts. "I said touch me."

He leans up to reconnect the kiss, his palms against me, kneading my chest through my dress. His hands move down beneath it, sliding up my bare thighs until he's gripping my ass tightly.

"You tell me if you want me to stop anything," he says gruffly, his eyes alight with hunger.

I nod, desperate to return to his lips.

His hands move up the sides of my dress, and I part our mouths for a moment just so he can lift it off over my head. My fingers are on his jeans, shaking from desperation as I do my best to unfasten the button. Joel helps me, making quick work of his jeans until he's sat beneath me in only his boxers.

I lick my lips in anticipation, staring down at the thick, weighty erection that rests beneath me.

"I don't have any condoms, y/n," Joel says with a ragged breath.

"I don't care. I'm on the pill."

Joel's fingers play with the band of my panties, and I can tell he's still hesitant to touch me. My lips trail along his jaw and neck as I guide his hand into the fabric that he's toying with. A small groan leaves his lips once his fingers come in contact with my slit, making me clench down onto nothing.

"Oh, my god," he groans slightly, his head falling back against the back of the couch. "You're so fucking wet."

I hum against him, sliding my tongue from his collar bone up to his earlobe. "Just for you, Joel."

He eases a finger gently inside of me, stopping my body in its tracks as a shudder of pleasure runs through me. Joel moves it out slowly, pushing it back in with ease. My hands are on his shoulders, gripping the fabric of his shirt tightly as I let out a quiet moan against his neck.

"Gotta prep you, honey. I won't fit if I don't get you ready for me."

My breath hitches in my throat as he works a second finger into me, my lips tucking between my teeth. "Fuck," I breathe out shakily.

"God, you're so tight," he groans. "Don't wanna hurt you."

"You won't," I whisper. "Please, I need you."

My hands hook into the sides of his boxers, pulling them down so that they're resting on his thighs with his jeans. Joel's fingers move up to my clit, making me gasp at the sudden contact.

"Cum first and then I'm yours."

"Joel," I groan, my head leaning back. "Please."

He rubs me easily, swirling my little bundle of nerves in quick, neat circles that have my thighs already quivering with anticipation.

"It's okay, y/n," he coos. "You don't have to beg. You'll have me."

My body is on fire, and my chest is heaving dramatically. I'm already so close to the edge; so close to a feeling I haven't experienced in years, not even when I'm alone. I never wanted to. I've never been so hungry for an orgasm than I am right now with Joel beneath me and his fingers against me.

That blinding rush of euphoria courses through my body and I scream out, my entrance fluttering as my release takes over me. Joel groans quietly, his fingers guiding me through it until I'm shivering from the overstimulation.

He gently pulls my face down to his, kissing me deeply and passionately. I take his thick cock into my hands, groaning at the sheer size and weight of him. My other hand moves down to pull my panties to the side, rubbing Joel's tip through my soaking apex.

"Fuck," he curses, briefly breaking the kiss. "Tell me again that you want me."

I nod, biting my lip. "I want you so bad, Joel."

"I'm yours, y/n. Take me."

I pull away, leaning up onto my knees as I position myself above him. With one hand on him at the base, I gently start to ease myself down. My jaw unhinges, my eyes open wide from the overwhelming feeling of the stretch of him. I feel full, and he's not even halfway in yet.

Joel grips my hips tightly, his eyes on where we're connecting. "Take your time. I don't want it to hurt."

"It doesn't," I breathe out sharply. "Just—a lot."

He chuckles cheekily, the sound seemingly vibrating through my body to send another rush of arousal to where he's stretching me out. I move my hand, allowing myself to settle at the bottom as we both let out a coo of approval.

"Go slow," Joel says gently.

I breathe, adjusting to him still, feeling stretched beyond belief. "Don't tell me what to do."

Joel laughs, his fingers quickly undoing the clasps of my bra. He attaches his mouth to my left nipple, making me shriek and tense up around him. He groans against me, his eyes briefly squeezing shut.

I slowly start to move up and down, groaning out towards the ceiling from the intense pleasure. Joel drops his fingers to my slick bud again, immediately making me clench down on him.

He groans, moving to my other nipple. "You're so beautiful," he praises. "Riding me so good, y/n."

His compliments spur me on, and I move my hips faster, becoming more and more acclimated to the stretch of him. My moans are constant. Every time he's buried in me to the hilt, I can't help but cry out into the emptiness of my home.

"Joel," I moan, my eyes squeezed shut. "Please, I'm so close."

His free hand comes up and grips me behind my neck, pulling my lips down to press against his briefly. "I know, honey. Can feel you squeezing me. Cum on me, y/n."

His words are my undoing, and I'm crumbling. My walls are flexing against him and my teeth are sinking into the skin of his neck, needing something to keep me grounded to earth.

Joel groans loudly, only making my orgasm more intense. "Yes, y/n," he moans. "Tell me how I feel."

"G-good," I shudder, kissing the teeth marks on his neck. "Please, Joel."

"What, honey? Tell me what you want."

"Fuck me."

His hands immediately go to my hips, his legs adjusting a bit before he starts to thrust up into me, the quick pace making me scream and bury my face back into his neck.

"Oh, my god!" I cry, my eyes squeezing shut. "Fuck, Joel, please."

"I can't hold it anymore, y/n. Tell me where you want it," he says gruffly. "Tell me."

"Inside of me!"

Joel's fingers dig into my skin so tightly I'm sure they'll leave bruises. He cries out, his head tilting back as I feel him throbbing inside of me. Every spurt of cum and jerk of his hips makes me groan, and I finally open my eyes once I feel his release stop pouring into me.

His hands move to my bare back, caressing me gently from the bottom of my spine to the top. He rubs me silently for a few moments, both of us just panting and breathing together.

"Please tell me how you are," Joel finally says. "I need to know."

"I'm perfect," I breathe, moving my head out of the crook of his neck. "More than perfect."

He beams at me, leaning up to pull me in to a wonderful, tender kiss that has my heart soaring.

"You're incredible," he says as our foreheads press together. "I can't believe you like me."

I giggle, shaking my head. "Would you stop it? You're perfect, Joel. I mean it."

He chuckles, kissing me again. "What do you want me to do?"

I cock my head. "About what?"

"Do you want me to stay the night? Or would you rather me go home?"

"Stay," I smile. "Please."

He beams at me. "I was hoping you'd say that."

****

[shi-daisy]

Spring Beast and Silver Queen

Day 6 and here we have the second otp! Like Tamcien (or Feylincien) and Neris own my heart but Neslin has so much potential that I wouldn't mind them being endgame in a Canon. So here's a little oneshot for them with some Fairytale tropes. Hope you like!

@tamlinweek

Tamlin Week 2024- Day 6- Fairy Tale AU

Spring Beast & Silver Queen

Nesta walked onto the decayed manor, it was just as destroyed as the rest of the court.

Lucien might be the only one to come here out of genuine care, but if the mild mannered redhead couldn't do more than this that meant the High Lord was all but dead inside. She understood. Nesta felt the same way.

She found Tamlin sleeping. The male was in his beast form, like that day when he came to their cottage and took her sister. There were times she wished that hadn't happened. Now, she just wished she'd ran when she had the chance.

It didn't matter anymore. It was either Spring or a lock up on Night, and she'd take her chances with the wilted flowers.

Nesta came into the room slowly. A bird that slept on Tamlin's mane woke up, and left out the window, sparing her one last glance.

She kneeled on the floor and gently patted the man. He was alive, just deeply asleep, and he looked so very weak.

'Guess they've broken us both.' She thought.

Who had once been a monster to her now looked so very defenseless and sad Nesta felt compelled to be kind. Maybe being here wouldn't be so bad, at least Tamlin wouldn't bother her about her drinking if the empty wine bottles were any indication.

She didn't know why, but Nesta decided to plant a soft kiss on the beasts forhead, and wait for him to wake. Nesta didn't have to wait long.

Tamlin turned from beast to fae form in a flash, and when his emerald eyes fell on her their bond snapped.

***

A deep silence fell upon the room as he sat up and stared at Nesta who was equally surprised and stunned.

"I...Think you know what this means."

"Yes..."

"Wait! Why are you here, Lady Nesta? Is this another strange dream?"

"Afraid not. I'll explain."

She told him of her downward spiral, of her sister's betrayal and the choice she was given. It nearly made his magic spiral in a rage.

"Stay here I'd that's what you want. I swear I shall protect you." Tamlin managed to say.

"...What about the bond?"

"If you keep it, they cannot take you away. Once we're certain they won't hurt you, then you may do as you wish with it."

It hurt to say, to denounce something he'd once wanted, despite knowing of it worst sides thanks to his parents, and yet...he wanted to prioritize Nesta's free will. It was clear she needed it.

Especially when her frown turned into a slight smile. "I appreciate it."

Baby steps, in time they could be friends.

***

Lucien had come to visit. After she explained the situation the redhead not only returned to stay with his partners but he cut off all ties to Night.

"We will help you rebuild this court!"

That was all they needed to let the Band of Exiles become part of the Spring council.

The Spring Library was a marvel after it was cleaned and she took to devouring every book she could. It helped fix the court and bring back the population.

In a few months things were already looking up, and Tamlin wouldn't stop thanking her. "Lucien did most of the administrative work. Vassa is in charge of diplomacy and Jurian is training the sentries. Why are you thanking me too?"

"Because if you hadn't arrived that day. I wouldn't be here right now. Your silver flame is what kept me holding on and made me rebuild what I shouldn't have left crumble. Thank you."

His gentle hand on hers gave her pause. Despite the slow friendship they'd cultivated and the bond that kept her safe, sometimes Nesta doubted a man like him could want her if it wasn't because of the mating bond. Still, she didn't want to break it. Her safety was at stake but also...she didn't want to hurt Tamlin further.

Nesta felt a tear slide down her cheek, but it was soon wiped away as Tamlin kissed her forehead. "You don't have to say anything. If I have to wait forever I shall. You're worth waiting for."

Worth. She hadn't heard that from anyone.

"There's a lot I still must deal with, but when I do. I'm certain you'll be who I want to spend my time with."

"I'm honored to hear that."

***

Tamlin often thought that beyond any person music would remain his ultimate love. Perhaps that would've been right, as he played his fiddle before the Calanmai celebrations and everyone danced with joy.

Then she stepped into the scene wearing the long sleeved silver dress he'd gotten for her and the glass shoes he'd seen her eyeing at the boutique.

Nesta was a delightful dancer. He knew she loved music as much as he did when she organized all his sheets and instruments with great care, probably more than the books.

Nesta danced beautifully for him, and he didn't remember the last time he'd played that well. By the time the song ended and she stopped dancing, Tamlin had picked her up in his arms and they shared a kiss.

"I love you." Nesta said, and he couldn't help but cry.

"I love you too."

No other Calanmai had left him as breathless and full of joy

***

Eventually they came for her a little over week after their bond was sealed and their frenzy over.

Nesta nearly barbecued the entire inner circle when they tried to get close to Tamlin. He'd wrapped them in thorned vines.

"We are mated. We are happy. We won't bend to you if you're trying to get the crown. Leave!" He said.

Cassian glared at her and Nesta regarded him with indifference, she had the man of her dreams right by her side and wore a crown of roses rather than chains of stars. The only ones she'd mourn for were her sisters, but she was free and she wouldn't apologize for it. Let the. Make their choice for themselves.

And they did. Because when shadows took her to the House of Wind and she was locked in its tower, Nesta could hear a battle far away in the Velaris palace. By now she'd realized Morrigan was the traitor and that Feyre had joined her, but she couldn't wait for them to rescue her. She had to get out herself.

Rhysand had brought her back to fight for Night's side. She wouldn't and so he locked her up. But he forgot she had power and she had read enough to figure out the end of the tale.

Nesta used her power to create thin threads of silver. They grew from her hair and she made sure to tie them onto the balcony rails. It wasn't enough to reach the ground safely, but she wouldn't need to. She saw a figure of green and was aware he High Lord came to save her.

With rope of hair in hand she jumped from the balcony of the tower and safely mounted Tamlin, who was now a dragon.

"My silver flower"

"My fiddler lord."

They flew away as the Obsidian castle in the distance was swallowed up a black hole in the sky. Both of them were worried until the event passed and the castle was nothing but rubble left away.

After landing they spotted Lucien in the distance with the healers. She saw Feyre and Mor with them, out cold but alive.

Tamlin and Nesta both breathed a sigh of relief. Then they looked at eachother. Nesta smiled at the sight of her mate, her beloved and the man who'd come to her rescue.

Tamlin pulled her close, holding his savior, his queen and his beloved.

Nesta kissed him, using words he'd once said to someone else yet were never returned until now. "I love you, thorns & all."

"And love you, my queen Nesta Acheron."

Two birds flew over them as they shared a kiss, into their happily ever after.

[luna-redamancy]

Hi Luna! I'm so happy requests are open! Can I request something with Haldir please? His wife and brothers having a drinking competition (strong wine from Thranduil or something enough to knock out an elf) but she ends up drunk and doing the stupidest things while on their way home🥴 🤣 Haldir has to take care of her as she might hurt herself... something like the following:

He gets stuck with preventing you from doing ridiculous stunts. “meleth, would you stop trying to climb the wall…please” he has watched you attempt to climb just about everything, including himself. Only for you to take a trip and go spiralling into the ground injuring yourself.

Fluffy cute ending where he puts her to bed please?

Thank you xx

Hi Nonnie! Thank you for requesting! I hope you enjoy this:

“Meleth,” Haldir called out, a wince on his face as you nearly ran into a tree. Your blissful expression halted him from getting too angry or annoyed every time you tried to do something stupid. 

First it was the fountain. 

“It’s so warm, Haldir,” You whined, tugging at your robes in a half-hearted attempt to remove them from your form. 

“Haldir,” You extended the ‘r’ in his name as you shook his arm. “Help me!” You demanded rather than asked, wanting your beloved to help cool you off.

“I will help you,” He cooed, fighting the urge to laugh, “When we get home.” He finished, making you pout. 

“But I want to be cool now!” You groaned, tossing your head back before looking ahead of you. A wicked grin grew on your face.

“Meleth, no!” Off towards the fountain you went, Haldir hot on your heels as you attempted to go swimming. 

And now it was… The wall.

The stone wall was actually the side of the stone staircase that led up to your home. It spanned a good twelve feet high and curved inward as the stairs spiraled for another ten feet but that mattered not as you gripped onto the small indents and tried desperately to pull yourself up. 

“My love,” Haldir sighed, not denying the amusement in his body, lips shaping into a grin as you struggled. 

“I can do it!” You called out, words slightly slurred. 

“I know you can, you’re the best… Wall Climber I know of,” Haldir held in a laugh as you launched your leg up to try and use it to propel yourself upward. 

“You know it,” You agreed, a dopey grin on your face. 

“Meleth, please stop trying to climb the wall?” He tried, panic filling him, replacing all of the amusement as you nearly fell off the small amount of the wall that you managed to get up on thus far. 

“How about I climb you instead, handsome?” You flirted, launching off the wall and onto him, making the two of you stumble. Luckily he kept you steady, cradling you to his chest as he adjusted his stance. 

“How about we go take a nice warm bath and drink some water?” Haldir suggested instead, making you frown.

“That’s no fun!” You whined, pushing away from him to walk back towards the wall, only to trip on the bottom of your dress. You spiraled to the ground, your face hitting the ground with a loud resonating thunk. 

“(Y/n)!” Haldir was by your side in an instant, helping you up off the ground as you held your forehead. 

“Are you alright?!” 

“My ankle,” You paused from rubbing your head to point at your ankle while you leaned against him, tears welling on your lash line. Your ankle was definitely sprained.  

“Haldir, I’m not having fun anymore,” You hiccuped, making him press a kiss to your forehead.

“Let’s get you inside,” He hummed, carefully scooping you into his arms so he could carry you. And this time, you didn’t try to divert to climbing things or wanting to go swimming. 

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[barbiewritesstuff]

Chapter 10: Easy Peasy

-- Jake deserves the best, I love him

@because-edmund @blue-aconite

His alarm rang. The sharp beeps almost echoing through his bedroom. You were still asleep next to him, calmly breathing in and out. Jake had to fight the urge to stay and force himself to walk to the shower. He soaped his body and washed his hair,  skipping his usual routine of imagining the water washing away his worries. He'd learnt that trick in his support group, Jake wasn't sure it actually worked but it had become so ingrained into the fabric of his day that removing it altogether would feel wrong. Skipping it for the day should be fine though, Jake thought. He stepped out of the shower and dried himself. 

Shower, tick.

His phone notifications showed texts and one from his brother.

"Dude, we have neighbours!!" and "The TV is at max volume!! I can still hear you!!" were from Rooster. 

"Don't forget: dinner at 6pm. Can you pick up wine?" John had sent. He'd almost forgotten about dinner on Wednesdays and now that he remembered, he didn't really look forward to it. He was already kicking himself for calling John for help. It had felt good in the moment, but now it just made him panic.

Breathe in.

Breathe out.

He looked over at your sleeping form on the bed and calmed down. Despite knowing the list by heart, he still looked at it. Next up: work out. He put on his trackies, trainers and a random shirt he found on the floor and shot you a text in case you woke up when he was gone and left the room.

The house was silent. Jake closed the front door behind him, leaving his keys in the stone statue Rooster kept the emergency keys in. 

You were still asleep when he came back but you were starting to stir when he came out of his second shower. 

"You're up early" you mumbled in your sleepy voice, he smiled

"Insomnia does have advantages, I get to be up for every sunrise" Jake lied. Insomnia had kept him from sleeping more than three consecutive hours at a time most nights since The Incident. The only memorable good sleep nights he had had were nights spent with you or spent on a hospital bed. And Jake had stopped feeling anything but dread 

"We should do that someday, see the sunrise"

"Sure, we can do that next time you sleep over"

"You seem awfully certain that'll happen again" 

"I thought you had volunteered to help"

"I didn't know it was a permanent position" 

"Might become one" he said before he could think.

You smiled at him, Jake tried to look concerned about an imaginary spot on his floor and pretended to scrub it with his foot. He was trying to hide a blush.

"Breakfast?"

"What do you have in mind?" You asked and Jake shrugged his shoulders.

"There's a place down the road that does decent pancakes and passable coffee?" He offered.

"I love passable coffee! Let's go!" 

Jake wasn't hungry. His morning cereal was usually his least favourite time of the day simply because he never felt hungry in the morning, but like his shower ritual, he had been doing it for so long that stopping it would only disturb his daily routine. And without daily routine, he spiralled.

You picked a booth by the window overlooking the beach. 

"It'll give us the best view" you had said

"Yes, it's beautiful" Jake said, looking straight at you. You blushed.

"So, a permanent position… what would that entail exactly?" You asked

"Well, here at Jake Seresin inc. We are looking for someone to fill a very particular role. The candidate that will be chosen for this position will need to fulfill certain specific tasks, such as killing spiders, making cups of coffee if asked nicely, and of course being available for cuddles whenever needed" Jake replied

"Well, sir, I believe I am uniquely qualified for this position. See, I am one of the few people capable of killing spiders without being afraid of them. I also make a killer cup of coffee among many other drinks and I am always willing to go above and beyond when it comes to cuddles."

The waitress interrupted. You both ordered pancakes and a cup of coffee.

"Well miss l/n, ou make for a very attractive candidate. I shall contact you within the week to tell you wether or not you have been chosen for the position. Do you have any questions?"

"Yes. Are you interviewing many candidates for this position?"

"No, as a matter of fact, you are the only applicant"

"How would previous employees in the position describe working with you?"

"Well, I believe they would describe it as difficult. I can be away for months at a time and long distance -- err -- employment isn't easy for everyone." 

"I'm up for the challenge" you winked "Oh, another question, what are the benefits for this position?"

"We pride ourselves on having amazing benefits, here at Jake Seresin inc., we really value our employees and vow to take care of any need they might have" He wriggled his eyebrow "This obviously includes being given terrible cups of instant coffee, kisses whenever demanded and of course, never having to open doors of any kind ever again." He said, making you laugh. The pancakes arrived and syrup was poured. You were both quiet while you ate. 

Then, your phone rang and the phone number of one of your superiors lit up the screen. You frowned.

"I have to get this"

Jake nodded. He watched you step outside, and answer your phone with it against one ear and your finger in your other one. He had a bad feeling about this. He'd gotten enough calls like that, but when you came back, sat in your seat and said: "One of my colleagues dropped out last minute, they need me for a three week journey. I leave in an hour", Jake could suddenly smell it again. The putrid cloud coming in through the door and bee-lining for him. 

[lycorisblooms]

You play STUPID games, you win STUPID prizes

A Ka.veh (h.s.r verse) character study

His life purpose began when the smartest of them all cast his gaze upon him.

From the time that the artisan was young, he was exposed to art. Whether it was the beautiful sleekness of starskiffs, paint, watercolors, or fast speed. The little blond boy knew nothing but art and love.

Perhaps that should have been the time that his mother should have taught his heart some hardness. Perhaps he would have not latched onto the thought of abandonment so easily. Perhaps the death of his father was the catalyst.

They said it was an accident. He was a fleet pilot, and one of the best. He still remembers the General coming to pay his condolences, a young boy who didn't understand that his papa wasn't COMING BACK.

[ He purposely ignores the elite, he has for years. Even with the general's invitations for tea over his most prized work, it falls ignored despite the kindness that he gives to everyone. It's still too painful. ]

It's only when he joins the commission that his mother leaves. He comes home, excited to tell her about his acceptance over his designs to find that the home is empty. His mother at least leaves a note, tells him she's sorry.

How could he blame her? Despite the hot tears trailing down his face, staining the paper, how could he hate her? But it's the first time he feels alone.

He's a young man when he's first recognized for his work. Beautiful starskiffs flying across the sky, everyone wants to know who the designer is. Rich colors, fantastic spiraling swirls. He's practically known over the Xianzhou. Yet, it feels as though it isn't enough. True abandonment comes when he hears through the grapevine that his mother remarried. Another arrow in the chest.

He had always been likened to a bird of paradise, the flamboyant colors and garish personality that exuded from him blended with the true and loyal kindness that the artisan gave. And perhaps, it's what caused him to go on a bit of a spree of indulgence after finding that out.

Three weeks. Three weeks of working and in between, pleasures. Drinking to his heart's content, waking up in a different bed every night. No one called back, but it was a comfort to feel like he wasn't alone. One hundred and fifty years later, and he hadn't done anything his younger self might have done.

He has a roommate, his life is back on the path of a star studded designer. Everything should have been fine. Everything should have been exactly how it should have been. Except it wasn't the moment a blue-haired merchant slid up to him.

He's a bit wine drunk, babbling on about his "stupid roommate", and the man listens to every word and even buys him another round. It wasn't a normal day, either. The anniversary of his father's death was the only time he allowed himself the draw of drunkenness. He considered it the day everything changed.

Like his roommate said: You play stupid games, and you win stupid prizes.

It did not take him long to fall headfirst. Rendevous that ended in passionate embraces, long stays, drinking. He knows that he wants more than this, but knows that the other man does not.

And he should know not to try and tame something that doesn't want to be tamed.

He thought it was enough. Even if he didn't feel the same, just being there was enough. Having him there was enough and he could keep his feelings to himself. And where was he now?

Staring at the light of the sky, the pinpricks that he's sure are real stars somewhere. He's done all the crying he can muster, the feeling of loneliness like a cold void in his chest.

It's okay. It's okay. It's okay. It's okay.

He has never begged for anything in his life, but he wished he could have.

But it's fine, He tells himself. If I made him happy for a moment, it's enough.