#surrounded by warmth + family + beautiful works of art

[dnangelic]

dai vc you guys live like this?

[kingofbodyrolls]

Say I Do (m) | jjk

Summary: you and Jungkook tease each other at your wedding reception.

Pairing: jungkook x female reader (no Y/N and unnamed)

AUs: non-idol!au, wedding!au

Genres: smut– like it’s just smut, nothing else 🤣

Rating: mature/explicit/R18 – this is mature/explicit content, so minors, please do not interact!

Word count: 5,2k

Disclaimer: I do not own BTS or know them personally and this work of fiction is purely fictional and for entertainment purposes only. The actions and personalities described in the story do not reflect those of BTS— it’s just fiction. Also, if you would kindly read the tags/warnings before reading, that would be lovely: and if you don’t like whatever is described in the tags, just hit return and find something else to read. Thank you 🌸

Warnings/tag: unprotected sex, exhibitionism, voyeurism, public sex, handjob, oral (female receiving), dirty talk, slightly rough sex, choking, biting, spitting, ass grabbing, impreg kink, degrading names (whore used once).

Author’s note: I made this for my lovely friend Lua (@letjungcoook7)!!!! SURPRISE!!!! I hope you like it! I was inspired to make this because of our chat, and I just want to say that you are so fucking lovely, sweet and kind 💖 I really hope this isn’t too much, but I just had too 🥹 I really wanted to make it dirty, but it ended up being more sweet instead, I’m sorry! I love talking to you and I just wanted to let you know that I adore and treasure you 😘 

Honestly Lua, I just wrote this to tell you how beautiful you are– mind, body and soul. Thank you Lua, I love ya 💜

This is just something very short while I work on ‘My Heart’s Home’. But I hope you like it, and please let me know what you think: my inbox is always open, and I love to hear from you, even a reblog/comment will put a big smile on my face 💜

Also!!! This is written from Jungkook’s POV (well I tried, lol). And normally I don’t describe the reader/MC, but she does have a tiny bit description in this, but I still feel it’s vague enough. But if that isn’t your thing, it’s completely fine 🙂 This is not proofread (because I’m too lazy for that right now).

This has nothing to do with my other fic 'say that again (I dare you)', but if you want to read that I'm not opposed (it's also a jjk fic) ✨

Fancy reading on AO3? 😉 

Rising gracefully to his feet, Taehyung's infectious enthusiasm fills the room as he declares, “I propose a toast!” His radiant smile sweeps over the myriad of guests you meticulously invited to your wedding—more than a hundred souls sharing in the joy of your love story. 

As he prepares to speak, Jungkook can't help but marvel at the grandeur of the occasion. Despite his personal inclination towards a more intimate celebration, he wouldn't dream of denying you this moment, surrounded by the warmth of friends and family who have come together to witness the union of two hearts.

Despite Taehyung's earnest attempt to capture Jungkook's attention with a throat-clearing preamble, Jungkook finds himself inexplicably entranced elsewhere. Even in the midst of one of his closest friends delivering a heartfelt wedding speech—something he should be wholeheartedly absorbing—but it’s hard. As hard as his dick that you’re palming over his dress pants.

The tantalizing dance of your hand sends ripples of pleasure through him, an intoxicating distraction that eclipses all other thoughts. It's an artful symphony of sensation, each movement crafting a masterpiece of desire within him. The struggle to concentrate on anything else becomes an exhilarating battle. Fuck. 

You, the mischievous enchantress, wield your allure like a potent spell. 

A tantalizing awareness of your own danger courses through your veins, and you wield it with an expert finesse. Every knowing glance, every sly smile, is a calculated move in the game you effortlessly play. You've mastered the art of ensnaring him, wrapping him around your finger with a magnetic force that compels him to dance to your whims. It's a dangerous dance, but he willingly succumbs to the intoxication of your charm, embracing the thrill as much as he cherishes the intoxicating love he feels for you.

What the fuck is Taehyung saying?

Taehyung’s words dissolve into a meaningless buzz, drowned out by the illicit symphony you're orchestrating beneath the table. The audacious zipper sliding down and the tantalizing exploration of your hand over the fabric of his boxer briefs command all of Jungkook's attention.

Profanity trembles on the edge of his tongue, but it's lost in the overwhelming sensation that eclipses any coherent thought. Your stealthy touch renders him blissfully oblivious to everything else unfolding around him.

Suppressing a low, guttural sound, he clenches his teeth, using every ounce of willpower to stifle the moan building in his throat. As desire courses through him like a wildfire, he willingly parts his legs, a silent invitation for you to explore more boldly, granting ample space for the electrifying touch of your hand over the hardened length of his cock.

He marvels at your audacity, finding it both exhilarating and daring that you'd embark on such a provocative escapade during your wedding reception. Yet, deep down, he acknowledges that it's a reflection of the wild spirit that has always defined your relationship. It's a shared affinity for dancing on the edge, reveling in the allure of danger, and delighting in the thrill of engaging in activities that should, by all accounts, remain private. It's a facet of your relationship that has always been magnetic, drawing you both into a world where the risk of being caught only adds to the intoxicating excitement.

In the blink of an eye, your hand deftly maneuvers beneath the fabric of his boxers, sending a shiver down his spine. A hiss escapes his lips as your long, slender fingers confidently envelop his cock. The warmth of your touch is both a balm and an inferno, and he instinctively tilts his head back in the chair, a silent plea for discretion. 

As he surrenders to the delicious sensation, he can't help but cast a furtive glance around, fervently hoping that the clandestine ballet unfolding beneath the table remains a tantalizing secret shared only between you.

Despite the uproarious laughter echoing through the room in response to Taehyung's speech, Jungkook remains oblivious to its contents, ensnared the choreography of your hand beneath the table. 

The mirthful ambiance only fuels his curiosity, surmising that Taehyung must have delivered a punchline or shared a humorous anecdote. Meanwhile, beneath the table's concealment, your hand skillfully traces a tantalizing path along his hardened cock, drawing a hushed hiss from Jungkook's lips. 

With a steely resolve, he masks any trace of emotion, locking his features in a stoic facade and maintaining an impressive silence. His determined effort is not just to conceal the electrifying sensations your actions are evoking, but also to safeguard the clandestine intimacy you both share from the prying eyes of the unsuspecting guests. 

Every fiber of his being is a coiled spring, resisting the urge to yield to the pleasure that threatens to unravel beneath the veneer of his restrained expression. 

As his gaze shifts towards you, he's met with an unexpected sight—there you sit, an image of demure elegance in your exquisite white gown. 

The fabric caresses your curves in all the right places, accentuating the allure of your figure. The daringly low neckline teases a glimpse of the captivating silhouette of your bosom, leaving him momentarily breathless. The off-the-shoulder design unveils a generous expanse of your soft, tender skin, a tantalizing sight that aligns perfectly with his preferences. 

Despite the provocative allure of your attire, your outward appearance betrays no hint of the illicit affair transpiring beneath the table. If he didn't intimately know the secret you were concealing—your hand discreetly exploring the realm beneath his pants—he'd be fooled by the serene facade you present, seemingly absorbed in the captivating rhythm of Taehyung's speech.

In a silent plea of gratitude, Jungkook revels in the fact that the attention of the guests is fixed on Taehyung's speech, sparing him the scrutiny of prying eyes. 

Little do they know, the real spectacle unfolds beneath the table, where your touch becomes an exquisite torment. 

Every movement of your hand is a tantalizing dance, a blend of ecstasy and torture that threatens to unravel him. With a teasing finesse, your soft fingers caress his frenulum, tracing a path towards the depths of pleasure. The deliberate slide over his slit elicits a shiver of pure ecstasy, leaving Jungkook teetering on the precipice of desire that you expertly navigate.

Your hand envelops him, a cocoon of warmth that intensifies with each skillful stroke. The pleasure coursing through him is undeniably exquisite, a testament to the mastery of your touch. Yet, a lingering awareness tugs at the edges of his consciousness—an impending climax that threatens to unravel the careful threads of restraint. The exquisite sensations you evoke compel him to desperately anchor his thoughts, to redirect the intoxicating focus from the captivating dance beneath the table to Taehyung's speech.

The challenge lies not just in resisting the magnetic pull of pleasure but in maintaining a semblance of composure, navigating the delicate balance between the ecstasy you're orchestrating beneath the table and the public façade demanded by the occasion.

“We’ve been friends for so long, how many years is it now, Gguk?” As Taehyung poses the question, a hushed anticipation envelops the room, and all eyes converge on Jungkook. 

Fuck. 

All eyes are on him and he can’t think— he’s mind is clouded with thoughts of you. 

Taehyung– Fuck. How long have they been friends? 

In a sudden stumble of recollection, he breathes out, “17 years,” the weight of the shared history resonating in the room. Yet, the gravity of the moment is unexpectedly intensified as you administer an assertive squeeze around cock. Fuck.

With a chuckle that slices through the tension, Taehyung seamlessly continues his discourse, effortlessly reclaiming the attention of the room and redirecting every wandering gaze back to him. A collective exhale echoes in Jungkook's mind, a silent gratitude for the timely diversion that spares the clandestine spectacle beneath the table from becoming the unwitting center of attention. 

Relentless, you maintain the rhythm on his dick, displaying an unwavering determination that hints at an intention to push him to the brink, right under the unsuspecting gaze of the gathered guests. 

As the divine caress of your hand propels him perilously close to the edge, a surge of urgency overtakes him. Desperate, he turns his face towards you, eyes silently pleading for respite, but your gaze remains steadfastly elsewhere. 

Frustration wells within him, and he attempts to use his hands to guide yours away, only to find your grip tightening in response. The conflicting forces of pleasure and restraint collide within him, his muscles tensing as a hitch in his breath betrays the precarious precipice upon which he teeters.

Leaning in, you bring with you a halo of your natural sweet scent, an intoxicating allure that wraps around him, overwhelming his senses and leaving him slightly dizzy. 

Your lips, soft and plush, delicately find his cheek in what appears to be a tender gesture to the outside world. To the unsuspecting onlookers, it's a simple, sweet kiss on the cheek. 

Little do they know, in that same moment, your daring move involves not just the gentle press of your lips but the subtle exploration of your other hand slipping under his boxers to fondle his balls.

Fucking hell he’s gonna come.

Ecstasy courses through him like a wildfire, an imminent eruption fueled by the intoxicating cocktail of your skillful touch on his balls, warm breath teasing his ear, and the relentless grip on his pulsating desire. The threshold between pleasure and release narrows to a perilous edge, and he finds himself teetering on the brink, held captive by the maddening symphony of sensations you've orchestrated. 

Despite his valiant efforts to remain attentive to his friend's speech, the sheer mastery of your pleasure-inducing touch proves insurmountable. Every deliberate stroke, every strategic squeeze of his balls, propels him further into the abyss of ecstasy. In a moment of surrender, he can no longer contain the torrent of desire, and ropes of his essence surge forth from his throbbing dick. His lips bear the weight of a stifled moan, as you keep stroking him through his orgasm.

Beside him, your chuckle is a symphony of sweetness interwoven with a hint of mischief, a melodic backdrop to the ongoing crescendo of pleasure you expertly administer through his orgasm. 

As he traverses the realm of oversensitivity, a low, guttural grunt escapes him, drawing the curious gaze of Taehyung, engrossed in his ongoing speech. Though momentarily caught in a gaze of questioning inquiry, Taehyung forges ahead, resuming his speech with a peculiar stare, unwittingly oblivious to the spectacle unfolding beside him.

Thank fuck both of your parents aren’t seated right next to you. That would have been utterly mortifying and embarrassing.

With a deliberate finesse, you retract your hand from his crotch, guiding it gracefully over the table, where you nonchalantly employ a napkin to erase any lingering evidence. Seated there, you adopt an innocent facade, a picture of angelic composure that conceals the fact that, mere seconds ago, your hand delved into the forbidden realm beneath his pants. 

With an audible exhale, he reaches for a napkin, hastily attending to the aftermath on his pants. The damage is fortunately minimal, thanks to your deft intervention that efficiently captured most of his release. Smart girl.

But a mischievous spark ignites in his eyes, a silent vow echoing beneath the surface - oh, he's going to get back at you for that, you little minx. 

–

As the notes of the classic wedding waltz envelop the room, Jungkook marvels at the surreal reality—he gets to call you his wife now. The ethereal glow surrounding you transcends the physical, a radiant aura that has always defined you. Despite your humble protestations about your own beauty, he's captivated by the undeniable truth: you've always been, and continue to be, an enchanting vision. Countless times you've confessed to feeling otherwise, but in his eyes, you're a masterpiece. In this moment, as you dance together, you're not just a part of his world; you are his entire universe.

Gazing into the pools of your sweet, doe-like eyes, their exquisite almond shape captivates him, holding his attention in an unbreakable trance. He contemplates the nuances of your beauty, from the enchanting curvature of your slightly upturned nose to the endearing moments when he can't resist playfully poking it during your teasing exchanges. Every inch of you, in his eyes, is a masterpiece, and he pledges to vocalize his admiration every day, a ritual aimed at etching your beauty into your own consciousness. 

He dreams that with each affirming word, he'll weave a tapestry of self-love around you, until the day you see yourself as he does—undeniably, breathtakingly beautiful.

As you dance, your eyes ablaze with an unmistakable love, he luxuriates in the intensity of your gaze. A daring current of desire propels his hand, gliding with deliberate intent down your body until it boldly claims your ass. 

Uninhibited, he seizes it with audacious confidence, the bold move oblivious to the watchful eyes surrounding you. A soft, mischievous squeeze elicits a sweet chuckle from you, a harmonious note in the symphony of shared amusement that reverberates through the party, as the crowd collectively succumbs to the captivating allure of your uninhibited dance.

As the soft strains of the music envelop you both in a waltz, your heads draw nearer, the enchanting melody echoing the tender dance of your hearts. With the song nearing its end, he seizes the moment, leaning in intimately close to your ear. The hushed promise that escapes his lips carries a tantalizing undercurrent, his warm breath grazing your skin as he vows, “I'm going to get you back for earlier, babe.”

He senses the subtle shiver coursing through you as his touch lingers, a silent testament to the shared electricity between you. As the final notes of the song fade into the applause and cheers of the crowd, seizing the perfect moment, he leans in, embracing you in a sweet and passionate kiss. 

As the rhythm of a more upbeat song invigorates the dance floor, he seizes the opportunity to whisk you away from the lively crowd. Amidst the pulsating beats and the vivacious laughter of the guests, he guides you outside the building, their merriment gradually fading into the background.

In the crisp night air, he asserts a sudden dominance, pressing you against the sturdy wall. His gaze, infused with an unmistakable hunger and need, locks onto your beautiful eyes, creating a magnetic tension that reverberates between you. 

“You are a little minx, you know that?” His words, not laced with anger but rather a dangerous undercurrent of arousal, hang in the charged air. Your chuckle, a sweet symphony that further stirs the tempest within him, prompts a hiss as he succumbs to the magnetic pull, diving fervently into the captivating abyss of your mouth.

The kiss intensifies, a collision of passion that is both hard and rough, fueled by an undeniable need. In the urgency of the moment, he can't afford to wait, the impatience palpable in every fervent press of lips. 

You envelop him in the embrace of your arms, fingers intertwining at the nape of his neck, while your gaze rises to meet his. In the depths of his eyes, once warm brown orbs now transformed into pools of near-black intensity, a reflection of the potent arousal coursing through his veins. 

Your hand embarks on a daring journey, descending to the front of his pants once more, and the response is instantaneous – hardness reignites, a testament to the insatiable flame you kindle within him. Desire for you pulses like a constant current, an almost permanent state of arousal that defies logical explanation. Whatever enchantment you cast upon him, it's an irresistible force that weaves a tantalizing spell, leaving him perpetually captivated by the mystique of your touch.

Breaking away from the embrace of your soft lips, he wears a smirk laden with both warning and allure. “You're playing with fire, babe,” he remarks, the subtle edge in his voice echoing the intoxicating dance of danger and desire that swirls between you.

In a hushed whisper that flutters against your ear, he breathes, “You've been a naughty girl.” 

The words, laden with an undercurrent of sultry authority, send a shiver down your spine, awakening a cascade of tingles that traverse the landscape of your entire body. 

Descending to the delicate expanse of your neck, he peppers it with soft, almost teasing kisses, each touch a prelude to the symphony of sensations. Then, in an abrupt shift from gentle caresses, he bites down, coaxing from you a loud moan that resonates through the air—an intoxicating sound that echoes in the depths of his desire, a melody he'll never tire of hearing. 

Continuing his explorative journey, he ventures further south, his lips descending to the curve of your breasts. With a deliberate tenderness, he places a kiss atop the soft expanse of your tender tits.

Gracefully sinking to his knees, he gazes up at you with a mischievous smirk, the air thick with a heady mixture of desire and anticipation. His tongue darts out, grazing his lips in a provocative dance of anticipation, signaling the imminent exploration of pleasures yet to unfold. 

With an assertive grip, he seizes the front of your dress, drawing it away in a swift, purposeful motion. Despite the abundance of fabric, he deftly bunches it up with ease. “Hold your dress, please,” he directs, handing you the end of the gathered fabric. 

“Hmm. Nice lace stockings, and that girdle—what are you doing to me?” he murmurs, his voice a tantalizing blend of desire and fascination. His gaze lingers appreciatively on your beautiful thighs encased in nude stockings adorned with lace at the top, fastened to a concealed girdle on your waist.

His eyes widen with a mix of surprise and arousal as they land on your wet and glistening pussy, the evidence of desire trickling down your thigh. “Oh my god. You're not wearing panties?” he breathes out, his voice carrying the weight of both revelation and anticipation. A subtle lick of his lips betrays the intensity of his reaction.

A playful chuckle escapes your lips as you hover above him, and without a moment's hesitation, he immerses himself in the intoxicating warmth of your desire. His lips eagerly find their destination, tracing a decadent path from the delicate folds to the pulsating essence of your clit. 

The sensation ripples through your body, igniting a shiver that becomes an involuntary response to the electrifying dance between tongues, pleasure, and the shared yearning that binds you together.

He embarks on a tantalizing journey of tongue and suction, starting with teasing caresses that send tremors of anticipation through your body. His hands, strong and purposeful, find purchase on your thighs, holding you in a firm grip as he orchestrates a symphony of pleasure with his skillful tongue, creating an intoxicating dance that blurs the lines between sensation and desire.

A throaty moan escapes your lips as his nose delicately brushes against your pulsating cl*t, his tongue delving as deep as its voracious hunger allows. The exquisite sensation of his exploration elicits an involuntary clenching around him, a testament to the overwhelming pleasure coursing through you.

Your thighs, unable to withstand the intensity, succumb to a tremor, trembling beneath the intoxicating caress of pleasure that consumes you.

His dexterous fingers ascend to your throbbing clit, and with a skillful touch, he sets in motion a rapid dance of pleasure, causing your entire body to quiver with newfound intensity. The quickened rhythm of your breath becomes a symphony of desire, a telltale sign for him that you're teetering on the precipice of ecstasy.

Eager to reciprocate the pleasure you bestowed upon him within the confines of the reception, he fervently laps at your tender folds. Simultaneously, his fingers engage in a deft dance around your throbbing clit, orchestrating a symphony of sensations that echoes the pulsating rhythm of desire between you.

With the harmonious fusion of his skilled tongue and nimble fingers, he orchestrates the unraveling of your senses. As ecstasy courses through you, your body convulses in euphoria, your walls clenching around his tongue, and the pulsating rhythm of your clit intensifying under the spell of his fingers. 

Waves of pleasure surge through you, causing your body to quake, and in the throes of ecstasy, you release a high-pitched, strained moan that bears his name—an intimate symphony of pleasure that lingers in the air.

Breathless and overwhelmed, you gasp out his name, a plea woven into the words, “Fuck, Jungkook. I can't stand up anymore.” As he gracefully withdraws from your core, his gaze rises to meet yours, locking in a shared moment of intensity.

He chuckles, the rich timbre of his laughter lingering in the charged air. “I know, babe. Do you want me to fuck you against the wall?”

You draw in a sharp breath, and he keenly observes the subtle clench of your hand, the fabric of the dress tightly gathered within your grasp. 

“Fuck yeah,” An unbridled affirmation escapes your lips, a primal declaration of desire. As he rises to his feet, a surge of urgency propels him to capture your mouth in a hungry kiss. The taste of your own release lingers on his lips, creating an intimate communion of shared pleasure that binds you together in the aftermath of passion.

As he engulfs you in a fervent kiss, the symphony of desire playing out between you, his hands deftly navigate the zipper of his dress pants. With a purposeful movement, he unveils his throbbing cock, stroking it in rhythmic cadence. 

His hands, driven by a primal urgency, seek out the contours of your a*s with a possessive intent. “Jump up, babe,” he commands, the resonance of his voice weaving a spell of anticipation. As you obediently jump, he effortlessly lifts you, cocooning you against the wall. 

In a brief struggle against the bulk of your dress, both of you grapple with the fabric, pushing it away from the front of your entwined bodies. A shared chuckle hangs in the air, a lighthearted interlude in the midst of fervor. But as the fabric yields to your efforts, Jungkook seizes the opportunity, moving in with an insatiable hunger to bite at your neck once more. 

With a sultry whisper, he breathes, “I'm gonna fuck a baby into you, would you like that, hmm?” 

The words, pregnant with promise, glide against your ear, and the responsive clench of your legs around his waist speaks volumes. A knowing chuckle escapes him as you endeavor to pull him even closer, the shared desire resonating between you in the charged space.

“Please,” your plea, a desperate yet fervent entreaty, escapes your lips, a poignant melody of desire that resonates in the charged air. The subtle smirk that graces his lips is both a testament to your undeniable need for him and an acknowledgment of the power he holds over your cravings.

With a deliberate touch, he locates his throbbing cock with one hand and skillfully aligns it with your dripping entrance. The tantalizing dance begins as he teases your slick folds with the head of his pulsating dick, creating an electrifying friction that amplifies the anticipation between you two. 

“Gguk, please,” you plead with a mixture of desire and frustration, your voice echoing the urgent need for him to bridge the gap between anticipation and fulfillment. However, he remains steadfast, skillfully teasing your slick folds without granting the entry your body craves. 

With a desperate plea escaping your lips once more, he finally relents. The moment stretches with anticipation before he forcefully thrusts his thick cock into your eager pussy. The collision is met with an audible impact as your back forcefully meets the wall.

He forgoes the customary pause for adjustment, intuitively aware that you relish the exquisite stretch when he enters you so abruptly. Without hesitation, he plunges deep into your core, reaching the furthest recesses, his thick length grazing against your cervix. 

“You’re so big, the stretch feels so good!” 

You gasp breathlessly against his body, overwhelmed by the sheer size of him. The intoxicating stretch sends waves of pleasure coursing through you, a visceral reminder of the intensity between you two. Determined to fully immerse yourself in the sensation, you pant against him, actively striving to ride the wave of pleasure, desperate to fuck yourself on him, the relentless pursuit of ecstasy evident in every ardent movement.

He establishes a relentless rhythm, driving into you with a force that resonates against the unyielding wall of the building. The symphony of your combined panting echoes in the air, a melodic accompaniment to the unbridled passion unfolding. Jungkook, captivated by the primal symphony, savors every delightful noise escaping your lips—a harmonious blend of desire and surrender, heightening the intensity of the fervent connection shared between you.

As he thrusts into you, each powerful motion striking your cervix, he elevates the intensity by trailing one hand up to your neck. With a gentle yet possessive touch, he wraps his fingers around your throat.

He knows you like it dirty and rough, and fuck he does too. 

His taunting words, laced with a playful yet provocative tone, cut through the charged air. “Did you enjoy the little game with your fingers down my pants while Tae was making his speech?” The rhetorical question hangs between you, a teasing challenge that elicits a subtle clenching reaction around him. 

In a sultry revelation, he whispers, “'Next to your bridesmaid and your parents. You naughty girl.” The hand steadying against the wall takes a firm hold of your ass, squeezing the soft flesh with deliberate intent. A resonant moan of pleasure escapes your lips, harmonizing with the rhythmic cadence of his thrusts as he skillfully targets your sweet spot. 

“So naughty,” he breathes, punctuating each fervent thrust with a rhythmic intensity that sends shivers down your spine. “You enjoy getting off in front of your friends, huh?” His words, infused with a seductive blend of desire and provocation, become a tantalizing soundtrack to the relentless grind of his dick into you.

“And getting me off too? Whore,” he seethes into your ear, the heated accusation leaving a scorching trail of desire in its wake. Your response, a shiver against his body, fuels the intensity of the moment. 

As he continues to fuck you with an unrestrained force, your breasts bounce in a mesmerizing rhythm that captivates him. So fucking perfect.

“Stick your tongue out,” he commands, his eyes intently fixed on you as you obediently roll out your tongue, anticipating the act you relish. The charged moment lingers, pregnant with expectation. With a deliberate move, he spits on your waiting tongue, and you, the embodiment of submission, dutifully swallow it.

Damn it, he knows he won't last much longer if he continues to be entranced by the rhythmic bounce of your enticing breasts—they possess an almost hypnotic allure over him. And that tongue of yours, oh, it's pure seduction. 

“And you can't even wait until we reach our hotel suite to be fucked. So fucking needy, and I love it,” he declares, a blend of admiration and desire lacing his words. The deliberate clench of his fingers around your throat follows, a subtle yet potent assertion of control. His gaze remains fixed on your eyes, watching with a predatory intensity as they dilate even more.

As he tightens his grip, the sensation of his fingers constricting around your throat elicits a primal response—your walls clenching around his cock. The synchronized symphony of pleasure and control intertwines, and a guttural groan escapes him, an audible testament to the ecstasy coursing through his veins. 

Driven by an insatiable desire, he redoubles his efforts to fuck you even deeper.

“My filthy wife,” he pants into your ear, the possessive term dripping with desire, a declaration that ignites a primal response within you. The sultry proclamation elicits a moan of his name from your lips, a vocal affirmation of the all-encompassing pleasure coursing through your body. His acute awareness of your nearing climax manifests in the rhythmic clenching around his dick, a tangible sign of the intimate dance between you two.

“Fuck, Gguk. I'm so close again. Fuck!” you pant fervently against the curve of his neck, the words laced with desperation and desire. He senses the mounting intensity in your voice, a symphony of passion reaching its crescendo. 

Yet, he's attuned to the nuances, recognizing the subtle signs that your body, though on the brink of ecstasy, bears the weight of fatigue, having navigated the day in those tantalizing heels. 

“You crave an audience, don't you? Want people to watch you, to hear you,” he moans into your ear, the words a sultry declaration that fans the flames of desire between you two. The acknowledgment of your shared exhibitionist desires ignites a fresh surge of pleasure, prompting an instinctive clench around him.

“Then scream my name, let everyone in the damn party know how damn good I'm fucking you,” he commands, the intensity of his voice sending shivers down your spine. As your walls clench with even greater fervor, pulsating around his dick, a wave of your liquid envelops him, transforming the intimate connection into a slippery dance of shared pleasure.

You unleash his name with a primal scream, the sheer force of your ecstasy reverberating through the open air outside. Your head drops against the curve of his neck, seeking refuge in the haven of his embrace as the waves of pleasure cascade over you.

He relentlessly thrusts his dick into you, the urgency palpable as he seeks his own release. “I'm gonna give you a baby, just like we've always dreamed of.”

“Ahhh, fuck, yes!” The exclamation bursts from your lips, a little too loud, as an uncontrollable surge of pleasure courses through you. Your teeth instinctively seek refuge on his shoulder, sinking into the firm flesh in an unbridled act of both ecstasy and restraint.

“Fuck, babe, I'm gonna come,” he confesses with a guttural moan, each subsequent thrust punctuated with the desperation of impending release. His rhythm stumbles, an involuntary response to the intensity building within him as he hurtles towards the precipice of his orgasm. And then it hits him.

The rhythmic bounce of your tits in his face, the soft and sweet scent that envelops him, and the melodic cadence of your voice—all converge to cast a spell on his senses. In the midst of your lovely moans, he succumbs to the intoxicating blend of sensations, unleashing a torrent of white-hot semen deep inside your spent pussy. 

Panting and gasping, you both struggle for precious breaths, bodies slick with the sheen of sweat acquired in the throes of passion. Amidst the shared exhaustion, a mutual chuckle reverberates between you, an intimate exchange that encapsulates the postcoital atmosphere.

With your head nestled against his, you gaze into the depth of his eyes and confess, “I love you, Gukkie.” The words, tender and raw, bridge the physical intimacy you've just shared with the emotional vulnerability of a heartfelt declaration.

“I love you too. Every damn inch of you, you're so beautiful,” he pants, a declaration infused with both desire and admiration. As he smiles at you, the post-passion glow accentuates the sincerity in his eyes, turning the exchange into a powerful affirmation.

He'll never tire of professing his boundless love and adoration for you, vowing to weave those sentiments into the fabric of each passing day. The promise to remind you, with unwavering devotion, echoes in his commitment to articulate his love every damn day.

Please let me know if you liked it with a comment, reblog, and ask or whatever 💜

[hd-junglebook]

Little Dove

Quinn Hughes x Reader

a:n Here is part 2, the only thing I could think of while writing this was 'The Gold' by Phoebe Bridgers. I think it really speaks for how y/n sees the situation and her life at the moment.

Masterlist Link

Summary: He's everything she wants. He's everything she wished she had. All she wanted was him. The hot and cold game has finally reached its limit.

Word Count - 5046

The sleek, black limo glided up the long, winding driveway, its polished exterior gleaming under the warm sunlight. As it approached the magnificent mansion, Y/N couldn't help but marvel at the opulent surroundings.

The meticulously manicured lawn stretched out before her, a lush carpet of vibrant green grass that looked almost too perfect to be real.

In the center of the sprawling grounds, a grand fountain stood tall, its crystal-clear water cascading down the intricately carved stone tiers, creating a soothing symphony of gentle splashes.

As the limo came to a stop near the impressive front steps, a group of well-dressed helpers emerged from the mansion's large, ornate doors. They stood at attention, their crisp uniforms and shoes polished.

Just then, the front doors swung open, and Y/N's grandmother stepped out, a vision of elegance and grace. She was dressed in an all-white ensemble, the flowing fabric of her dress billowing gently in the breeze.

Her delicate hands were adorned with pristine white gloves, and a strand of exquisite pearls rested against her neck, catching the light and adding to her air of sophistication.

The driver swiftly exited the limo and rushed to Y/N's side, opening the door with a practiced flourish. He offered his hand, assisting Y/N and her mother out of the vehicle with the utmost care and reverence.

As they walked closer to the steps, Y/N's grandmother's face lit up with a warm, genuine smile. "Oh, darling, how I've longed to see you," she exclaimed, her voice filled with affection. "Come here, little dove."

Y/N couldn't help but feel a surge of emotion as she stepped into her grandmother's embrace. The older woman's arms wrapped around her, enveloping her in a comforting warmth that seemed to chase away all the stress and disappointment she had been carrying. It had been so long since anyone in her family had shown her such pure, unconditional love and acceptance.

Y/N breathed in the sweet, familiar scent of her grandmother's perfume, a delicate blend of chamomile and sugar.

The softness of her grandmother's gloves against her skin was a soothing contrast to the cold, impersonal interactions she was used to with her parents.

Around them, the grandeur of the mansion seemed to fade into the background, the lavish furnishings and priceless works of art becoming mere footnotes in the presence of Y/N and her grandmother.

Once they separated Y/N's grandmother cupped her face with her gloved hands, her eyes shining with pride and adoration. "Let me look at you, my dear," she said softly, taking in every detail of Y/N's appearance. "You've grown into such a beautiful young woman."

…

The posse entered the sun room, Y/N was struck by the sheer elegance of the space. The room was flooded with natural light, the sun's rays filtering through the large, floor-to-ceiling windows that offered a breathtaking view of the meticulously landscaped gardens beyond.

In the center of the room, a grand table was set with the finest china and silverware, each place setting arranged with precision and care. The aroma of freshly prepared delicacies filled the air, making Y/N's mouth water in anticipation.

As they took their seats, the conversation flowed easily, punctuated by laughter and the clinking of glasses. However, after a while, Cherise turned to Y/N with a knowing smile and asked her to accompany her for a walk in the garden.

Arm in arm, the two women strolled through the lush, meticulously maintained grounds. The garden was a true work of art, with winding paths that led through a maze of fragrant rose bushes, towering topiaries, and bubbling fountains.

Cherise broached the subject that had been weighing on her mind. "Tell me, dear, when will you settle down?" she asked, her voice laced with concern. "It hurts me to see you alone."

Y/N shook her head, a smile playing on her lips. "I'm not alone, grandmother," she replied, her voice soft but filled with contentment. "I am with someone. Nothing serious, but things are going smoothly now. He makes me happy."

The steady click of their heels against the pavement punctuated their words. Cherise listened intently, her eyes sparkling with mischief.

"Then give me a grandbaby already, if you're so happy," she teased, her laughter ringing out like a bell in the garden. Y/N couldn't help but join in, their laughter mingling with the chirping of the birds and the gentle rustle of leaves in the breeze.

Y/N smiled softly as her grandmother continued, her words filled with wisdom and understanding. "I'm only joking, little dove. I would like to meet him, maybe when things get 'serious,' I guess. I want you to feel love like I have with your grandfather. You deserve that, not some beneficial marriage like your mother and father. I don't know where I went wrong with her."

Y/N nodded along, finding no reason to disagree with her grandmother's sentiment. She knew that her parents' relationship was one of convenience and status, lacking the warmth and genuine connection she craved. "I think you'd like him," she said, a hint of hope in her voice.

As they neared the house, Dedra rushed down the stairs, her face tight with impatience. "Let's go, we have to get back to work," she demanded, her tone leaving no room for argument.

…

Y/N stepped into her bedroom, exhaustion weighing heavily on her shoulders. She slipped out of her clothes and into a comfortable robe, the soft fabric caressing her skin. Settling down at her vanity, she began removing her makeup, the process of wiping away the day's mask a soothing ritual.

As she reached for her phone, she noticed a message from Quinn. Her heart skipped a beat as she opened the conversation, eager to connect with him after the emotionally draining day.

Y/N: I wish you were here with me. Today was intense.

Quinn: I'm sorry. Do you want to talk about it?

Y/N: It's just family stuff. They have all these expectations, and I feel like I'm constantly disappointing them.

They texted back and forth, Y/N continued getting ready, applying her makeup with practiced precision. Once she finished her base, she stood up and slipped into the red dress she had chosen for their date. The fabric hugged her curves perfectly, accentuating her figure in all the right places.

She admired her reflection in the mirror, a small smile playing on her lips as she imagined Quinn's reaction. Just then, her phone buzzed with another message.

Quinn: I'm outside.

Y/N felt a flutter of excitement mixed with nerves as she grabbed her purse and made her way to the front door. She stepped outside, the cool evening air kissing her skin as she walked towards Quinn's car.

He had his windows rolled down, a smile on his face as he watched her approach. His eyes roamed over her body appreciatively, taking in the sight of her in the stunning red dress.

"Looking good," he said, his voice smooth and filled with admiration.

Y/N felt a blush creep onto her cheeks, a mixture of pleasure and uncertainty swirling within her. “Thanks hottie.” she said as she slid into the passenger seat. She knew that her feelings for Quinn were growing stronger each day, but the fear of him not wanting her scared beyond comprehension.

Quinn pulled out of Y/N's driveway, he glanced over at her, his gaze lingering for a few seconds. The curiosity in his eyes was evident. "So where is this restaurant you were telling me about or is it some kind of surprise?" she asked, leaning over the middle console.

He smiled mysteriously, enjoying the playful anticipation that hung in the air between them. "You'll just have to wait and see," he teased. Quinn chuckled at her betrayed expression, shaking his head in amusement as he focused on the road ahead.

conversation flowed easily between them, filled with laughter and the occasional playful jab. Even though they talked about nothing of great importance, Y/N found herself thoroughly enjoying the simple pleasure of Quinn's company.

city lights flashed by the windows, painting the interior of the car with a kaleidoscope of colors. Y/N leaned back in her seat, feeling a sense of contentment wash over her.

As they continued driving, y/n’s curiosity got the better of her once more. "Come on, Y/N, give me a hint," she pleaded, eyes sparkling with amusement. "I'm dying to know where you're taking me."

Quinn laughed, the sound filled with genuine joy. "Patience, dear," he chided gently, reaching over to give her hand a reassuring squeeze. "I promise it'll be worth the wait."

…

Y/N felt a shiver run down her spine as Quinn's strong hands grasped her waist, his touch both thrilling and comforting. She looked up at him, her eyes meeting his, and saw a glimmer of affection and excitement reflected back at her.

"Lead the way," she said softly, a smile playing on her lips as she allowed him to guide her towards the restaurant.

As they approached the entrance, Y/N couldn't help but marvel at the grandeur of the establishment. The facade was a masterpiece of modern architecture. The name of the restaurant was emblazoned above the doors in elegant, golden script.

Quinn's arm remained securely around her waist as they stepped through the doors. The interior of the restaurant was just as breathtaking as the exterior, with plush carpets, glittering chandeliers, and rich, velvet draperies.

The hostess led them to their table, she glanced at Quinn, taking in the way his suit hugged his athletic frame and the confident, easy smile that played on his lips. When they were seated, Quinn reached across the table and took her hand in his, his fingers intertwining with hers. She squeezed his hand in return.

They perused the menu, discussing the various options and sharing bites of each other's dishes. Quinn enthusiastically shared his plans for preparing his hockey team for the upcoming season. He spoke about new training regimens, team-building exercises, and strategies he hoped to implement.

Y/N listened intently, her eyes focused on Quinn as he passionately described his goals and aspirations.

However, at one point, Quinn glanced over at Y/N, a flicker of doubt crossing his features. He wondered if she was truly interested in the intricacies of his hockey career or if he was boring her with the details. Y/N, sensing his uncertainty, quickly broke into a smile and laughed, hoping to ease his worries.

"Everything about you interests me, Quinn," she said earnestly, reaching across the table to take his hand in hers. "I could never get bored of you. Being around you makes me happy, ya know?"

The sincerity in her voice was evident, but Quinn's reaction was not what Y/N had expected. He shifted uncomfortably in his seat, his hand stiffening under her touch. An awkward silence fell between them, the air thick with tension.

Quinn cleared his throat, his eyes darting around the restaurant as if searching for an escape. "Y/N," he began, his voice strained, "I... I think we need to talk."

Y/N felt her heart sink, a knot forming in the pit of her stomach. She withdrew her hand from his, folding her arms across her chest as if to protect herself from the words she knew were coming.

"I care about you, Y/N. I really do," Quinn continued, his gaze finally settling on her face. "But I need you to understand that I'm not looking for anything too serious right now. I thought we were on the same page about that."

Y/N nodded slowly, trying to swallow the lump that had formed in her throat. She knew Quinn had been clear about his intentions from the start, but somewhere along the way, she had allowed herself to hope for more.

"I know," she said softly, her voice barely above a whisper. "I'm sorry if I made you uncomfortable. I didn't mean to pressure you."

Quinn sighed, running a hand through his hair. "It's not your fault, Y/N. I should have been more clear. I just... I don't want to hurt you."

The words hung heavy in the air between them, a reminder of the fragility of their connection. Y/N forced a smile, trying to lighten the mood.

"It's okay, Quinn. We can take things slow. I'm just happy to be here with you." Quinn returned her smile, but it didn't quite reach his eyes. The rest of the evening was spent in polite conversation, but the earlier ease and warmth between them had dissipated.

…

The pulsing rhythms of the music filled the crowded nightclub, the bass thumping through the floor and vibrating in Y/N's chest as she carefully navigated her way back to the booth where her friends were waiting. In her hands, she balanced a tray laden with six colorful cocktails, each one adorned with a tiny umbrella and a slice of fruit.

Y/N couldn't help but smile at the sight of her five best friends, all dressed to the nines and ready for a night of fun and laughter. She shimmied into the booth, sliding in next to Raven, her closest confidante.

"Ladies, I present to you six drinks for six beautiful women," Y/N announced, her voice rising above the din of the club. She passed out the cocktails, each one met with a chorus of excited cheers and appreciative nods.

The women wasted no time in downing their drinks, the sweet, fruity flavors masking the potent alcohol within. As they finished, they let out exaggerated gasps and howls of delight, the alcohol already beginning to work its magic and loosen their inhibitions.

Raven leaned in close to Y/N, her eyes sparkling with mischief. "So, see anyone you like?" she drawled out, her voice low and conspiratorial.

Y/N surveyed the dance floor, her gaze roving over the writhing bodies and the flashing lights. She had to admit, there were plenty of attractive men in the club tonight, their bodies moving in perfect sync with the pulsing beat.

"A few," she admitted, a sly smile playing on her lips. "But no one interesting enough to take home, that's for sure."

Raven giggled at Y/N's response, her laughter infectious and carefree. She scanned the room herself, her eyes suddenly widening as she spotted someone across the way.

"Well, I see one eyeing you up over there," she said, pointing discreetly in the direction of the bar.

Y/N followed Raven's finger, her gaze landing on a devastatingly handsome man with curly black hair and a chiseled jawline. He was leaning against the bar, his back pressed against the polished wood, and his eyes were locked on Y/N, a smoldering intensity in his gaze.

Y/N felt a flush of heat rush through her body as she met his stare, her heart skipping a beat in her chest. She raised her hand in a small wave, a coy smile playing on her lips.

But even as she flirted with the stranger across the room, Y/N couldn't shake the nagging feeling of guilt that tugged at the back of her mind. She thought of Quinn and the uncertain status of their relationship.

"I don't know, Raven," she said, her voice tinged with hesitation. "I haven't ended things with Quinn yet. It would feel wrong to pursue someone else."

A collective groan sounded from the table, as her friends all chimed in with their opinions.

"Girl, you're single. Do what you want," one said, her voice firm and encouraging.

"Quinn's not here tonight. What he doesn't know won't hurt him," another added, her tone mischievous and daring.

Y/N bit her lip, torn between her desire to let loose and have fun and her loyalty to the man she cared for.

She knew things with Quinn were complicated, that he had been distant and evasive in recent days. But still, the thought of betraying his trust, even in a moment of drunken weakness, made her stomach churn.

As she sat there, surrounded by the pulsing energy of the club and the encouraging words of her friends, Y/N knew she had a decision to make. She could play it safe, go home alone and wait for Quinn to come around. Or she could take a chance, let herself get swept up in the moment and see where the night might lead her.

With a deep breath and a final glance at the handsome stranger across the room, Y/N made her choice.

…

The heat of the crowded dance floor was almost unbearable as Y/N swayed to the pulsing beat, her body moving in perfect sync with the mysterious man from the bar. His hands were on her hips, his touch searing through the thin fabric of her dress and setting her skin ablaze.

The dance floor was a sea of moving bodies, gyrating and swaying to the music as the multicolored lights flashed and swirled overhead, casting a kaleidoscope of hues across the sweat-slicked skin of the dancers.

Y/N felt the heat rising from the packed bodies around her, the air thick with the scent of perfume, alcohol, and pheromones. She moved in perfect rhythm with the mysterious man from the bar, their bodies impossibly close as they lost themselves in the primal, sensual flow of the music.

His hands roamed over her curves, his touch both electrifying and possessive as he pulled her flush against his muscular frame. Y/N could feel the hard planes of his chest pressing against her back, his hips grinding against hers in a way that sent shivers of desire racing down her spine.

Clinking glasses and raucous laughter from the nearby bar mixed with the pounding bass, creating a heady cocktail of sensory overload.

Y/N felt dizzy with the rush of it all, her head spinning from the alcohol and the intoxicating presence of the man behind her. As the song reached its crescendo, he leaned in close, his hot breath tickling the sensitive skin of her neck as he mumbled something in her ear, his words almost lost in the pounding music.

Y/N turned in his hold, pressing her back against his chest and feigning ignorance. "Sorry, the music is really loud. I can't hear you," she shouted over the din, a coy smile playing on her lips.

She felt his chest rumble with laughter, the vibrations sending shivers down her spine. He tightened his grip on her arm, pulling her closer until there was no space left between them.

"I said, come home with me," he repeated, his voice low and husky, filled with unmistakable desire. Y/N's heart raced at his bold suggestion. She knew she should say no, that leaving with a stranger was a dangerous game. But the alcohol in her system and the electric chemistry between them made it hard to think straight.

She turned to face him, a playful shrug on her shoulders. "I can't leave my friends alone tonight," she said, her voice apologetic. "But how about I give you my number instead?"

The man's face hardened, a flash of annoyance crossing his features. He scoffed, as if offended by her suggestion, and shook his head in disbelief.

"Fine," he said, his tone clipped as he extended his phone towards her. "Put it in."

Y/N took the device, her fingers trembling slightly as she typed in a fake number, purposely transposing the digits. She couldn't risk giving him her real contact information, not when she was still unsure of her feelings for Quinn.

She handed the phone back and fixed him with a stern look. "Now, shut up and dance," she said, her voice firm and unyielding. The man's eyes narrowed, a flicker of anger burning in their depths. He grabbed her wrist, his grip tight and possessive.

"You think you can just tease me like that and walk away?" he growled, his face inches from hers. "I don't take kindly to being led on." Y/N's heart hammered in her chest, fear and adrenaline coursing through her veins. She tried to pull away, but his hold was too strong.

"Let go of me," she said, her voice shaking with a mix of anger and fear. "I don't owe you anything."

Around them, the other dancers continued to move, oblivious to the drama unfolding in their midst. Y/N's friends were nowhere to be seen, lost in the sea of writhing bodies and flashing lights.

The man's grip tightened, his fingers digging into her skin. "No one rejects me!”

With a sudden burst of strength, Y/N wrenched her arm free, stumbling backwards and nearly losing her balance. She turned on her heel, pushing through the crowd as she desperately searched for her friends.

Her heart was racing, her breath coming in short, panicked gasps.

…

Y/N stumbled out of the nightclub, her heart pounding and her head spinning from the encounter. The cool night air hit her skin, providing a momentary relief from the stifling heat of the dance floor.

She leaned against the rough brick wall, her hands shaking as she fumbled with her phone, scrolling through her contacts until she found Quinn's name.

She hesitated for a moment, her thumb hovering over the call button. Things between her and Quinn had been strained lately, and she wasn't sure if he would even answer. But as a wave of nausea washed over her, the severity of the situation hit her, and she knew she needed help.

Y/N pressed the button, holding the phone to her ear as she tried to steady her breathing. The line rang once, twice, and then a third time before Quinn's voice finally filled her ear.

"Hello?" he answered, the sound of music and laughter echoing in the background.

"Quinn," Y/N said, her voice trembling. "I... I need you."

There was a pause on the other end of the line, and for a moment, Y/N feared he would hang up on her. But then Quinn's voice returned, this time laced with concern.

"Y/N? What's wrong? Where are you?"

She took a shuddering breath, tears pricking at the corners of her eyes. "I'm at Taipei," she said, her words coming out in a rush. "I... I was dancing with this guy, and he... he tried to... I don't know, I just... I need you to come get me. Please."

There was another pause, and Y/N could hear the sound of Quinn moving, the background noise fading as he stepped away from wherever he was. "I'm on my way," he said, his voice firm and reassuring. "Stay where you are, okay? I'll be there as soon as I can."

Y/N nodded, even though she knew he couldn't see her. "Okay," she whispered, her voice barely audible over the sound of her own heartbeat.

As the call ended, Y/N slid down the wall, hugging her knees to her chest as the tears finally spilled over. She felt sick to her stomach.

…

"Y/N!"

She looked up, her vision blurry with tears, to see Quinn running towards her, his face etched with worry. He dropped to his knees beside her, his arms instinctively wrapping around her trembling frame.

"I'm here," he murmured, his voice soft and soothing.

Y/N clung to him, burying her face in his chest as the emotions she had been holding back finally broke free. She sobbed openly, her body shaking with the force of her tears as Quinn held her close, his hands rubbing gentle circles on her back.

Y/N's voice trembled as she spoke, her words laced with a mixture of sadness and desperation. "What have you been doing? It's been days, Quinn. Days without a single word from you."

Quinn froze, caught off guard by her sudden questioning. He stumbled over his words, trying to find the right response. "I... I've been busy, Y/N. You know how it is."

She shook her head, tears streaming down her face. "No, I don't know how it is. You don't want to talk to me? Is that what this is?" Her voice cracked, the pain in her heart spilling out into her words. "I don't want to do this with you anymore if you don't want to be with me eventually, Quinn. I can't keep going on like this."

Quinn reached out to her, his eyes pleading. "Y/N, please. Let's not do this now. We'll talk in the morning, okay? When we've both had a chance to clear our mind, and we’re home in bed."

But Y/N couldn't hold back the flood of emotions any longer. She looked at him, her eyes searching his face for any sign of the affection she so desperately craved. "Do you feel anything for me, Quinn? Even just a little?"

He sighed, running a hand through his hair in frustration. "Of course I do Y/N..."

"Please," she begged, her voice barely above a whisper. "Just be honest with me then. Am I not good enough? Is that why you've been pulling away?"

Quinn's heart ached at the sight of her pain, but he couldn't find the words to comfort her. He knew that his own doubts and fears had been holding him back, preventing him from fully committing to their relationship.

"It's not that, Y/N. It's just... complicated."

She let out a bitter laugh, the sound cutting through the cool night air. "Complicated. Right. That's what it always is with you, isn't it?"

Y/N wrapped her arms around herself, suddenly feeling incredibly small and vulnerable. She looked up at the sky, the stars blurring together through her tears. "I can't keep doing this, Quinn. I can't keep going on dates and sleeping with you, only to be pushed away. It hurts too much."

Quinn's voice wavered as he spoke, his words laced with a deep, aching sadness. "Y/N, please just let me explain at a better time."

But Y/N couldn't hold back the flood of emotions that threatened to consume her. She looked at him, her eyes shimmering with tears that refused to fall.

"If I could go back to the night we met, I would never have agreed to this," she whispered, her voice barely audible over the pounding of her own heart. "You make me feel so loved and like you care about me, then you ignore me when I say anything that sounds like I care about you."

The night seemed to grow colder around them, the stars fading into the inky blackness of the sky.

Quinn took a step towards her, his hand outstretched. "I don't mean to hurt you. At all," he said, his voice cracking with emotion.

"What I want is complicated, Y/N. You're so good to me. If I allowed myself to ruin it, I would never forgive myself." Quinn felt his own heart constrict, the depth of her pain hitting him like a physical blow.

Y/N shook her head, a single tear finally escaping and rolling down her cheek. "But don't you see? You're already ruining it. By pushing me away, by refusing to let yourself feel what I know is there."

He wanted so badly to take her in his arms, to promise her that everything would be okay. But he knew that he couldn't make that promise, not when he was still so unsure of his own heart.

Y/N's shoulders shook with silent sobs, her arms wrapped tightly around herself as if to hold the pieces of her shattered heart together. "I don't need you to be perfect, Quinn. I just need you to be honest with me. To stop running away from what we both know is true."

She turned to walk away, Quinn reached out and grabbed her hand. With a gentle tug, he pulled her into his chest, his arms instinctively wrapping around her trembling frame. Y/N's breath caught in her throat as Quinn's lips brushed against her forehead.

Quinn inhaled deeply, breathing in the familiar scent of her hair, the warmth of her body against his own. Before Y/N had a chance to protest, to pull away from his embrace, Quinn gently guided her towards his car.

He opened the passenger side door, his hand resting on the small of her back as he helped her inside. With a tender touch, he reached over and clipped her seatbelt, his fingers lingering on the soft skin of her neck for just a moment longer than necessary.

As Quinn slid into the driver's seat, he could feel the weight of Y/N's gaze on him but he couldn't find the words to reassure her, couldn't find the courage to voice the depths of his own feelings.

Instead, he put the car in drive, the engine humming to life as they pulled away from the curb. Y/N turned her head towards the window, her eyes fixed on the expanse of the city that stretched out before them. Tears slipped silently down her cheeks, the glittering lights of the skyline blurring together through her watery vision.

The drive was silent, the only sound the steady thrum of the engine and the distant wail of sirens in the night. Quinn's hands gripped the steering wheel, his knuckles white with tension as he navigated the familiar streets that led to Y/N's home.

The sight of her own front door, the promise of solitude and comfort, was a balm to her aching heart. Quinn cut the engine, the sudden silence deafening in the confines of the car.

He moved quickly, exiting the driver's side and rounding the front of the car to open Y/N's door. She stumbled slightly as she stepped out, her legs unsteady beneath her. Quinn's hand found the small of her back once more, his touch a gentle guide as they walked together towards her front door.

With a sense of déjà vu, Quinn reached into his pocket and pulled out the spare key Y/N had given him months ago, he slid the key into the lock, the click of the tumblers echoing loudly in the stillness of the night.

As the door swung open, Y/N stepped inside, the familiar scent of home enveloping her like a warm embrace. She turned to face Quinn, her eyes searching his face for any sign of the love and affection she so desperately craved.

But his expression was unreadable, his own emotions carefully guarded behind a mask of stoic resolve.

…

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[voidpetrova]

all to myself — jeremy gilbert x reader

☄. *. ⋆

content warnings and genres: swearing, jealousy, gentle sex, vulnerable!soft!dom!jeremy — hurt/comfort, fluff, smut

˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚

synopsis: you were the best thing that ever happened to jeremy, and the feeling was mutual. he was all you've ever wanted, but he wasn't the only one to want you. he knew that, and it irked him.

✧.*

in the quaint town of mystic falls, your relationship with jeremy gilbert bloomed into something truly magical. you were the missing piece that seamlessly fit into his life. from the start, your connection with jenna and elena was effortless, as if you were always meant to be a part of their lives. weekend mornings were greeted by the tantalizing aroma of your breakfast creations, filling the gilbert household with warmth and comfort. the three of you would gather around the table, sharing stories and laughter that created memories to cherish.

“if jeremy doesn't marry you, i know i will,” jenna would jokingly say, stuffing her face with your breakfast as the table would burst into laughter. you'd sling an oven mitt over your shoulder, thanking her from the depths of your heart. you'd give elena a tight hug and a kiss on the head, earning the softest smile from jeremy anyone could ever receive. he loved the way you just clicked with his family, and he knew his parents would love you just as much if they were around.

your unwavering support and encouragement became the driving force behind jeremy's aspirations. when he faced challenges, you stood by his side, reminding him of his potential and motivating him to reach for the stars. the moments you spent modeling for his sketches were a testament to the trust you shared, capturing your essence on paper in a way that left him in awe of your beauty and grace.

“you're so talented, jeremy, you're gonna make something of yourself one day.” was one of the many compliments he'd receive for his pieces of art. you truly were in awe, nothing was fake about it. you supported him every step of the way, showing off his work to major league art majors, knowing there would be something special stored for him. he'd look up at you with bambi-like eyes, melting into your touch as you kissed his forehead and ruffle his hair.

one of the most significant triumphs in your relationship was helping jeremy break free from his past struggles. your unwavering love and patience gave him the strength to overcome his demons and quit using, a battle he never thought he could win. with you as his rock, he found solace in your presence and the future you both were building together. before you had gotten together, whenever he felt like using, he found himself calling you. even in the middle of the night and during the cracks of dawn, you would always pick up. when you didn't pick up, you were already on your way to his house, a distraction in hand, whether it was a movie, a sweet treat, or even a book you would read to him until he fell asleep. the day he had rejected a free joint from tyler on school grounds, he knew he got lucky with you.

but as the whispers of the town echoed through the streets, it was evident that jeremy's insecurities were starting to take hold. the other guys in his life—damon, stefan, tyler, matt, even kai—couldn't help but notice the radiant aura that surrounded you. damon's sly smiles, stefan's lingering glances, tyler's overly-friendly banter, matt's admiration, and even kai's audacious charm all pointed to the undeniable truth: you were an enchanting presence, captivating those around you effortlessly.

at first, jeremy brushed off their attentions, pride swelling in his chest as he proudly bragged to his friends about the incredible woman he was lucky enough to call his girlfriend. but over time, the compliments and longing looks began to chip away at his confidence, exposing the cracks in his self-assured demeanor. he found himself questioning his own worthiness of your affections, wondering if he could truly compare to the charismatic allure that attracted others to you.

the schoolyard buzzed with the animated chatter of students, but for jeremy gilbert, the noise was just a distant hum. he stood there with matt and tyler, his two closest friends, the weight of their words gnawing at the corners of his mind. his lips parted, and he couldn't help himself—the words tumbled out before he could think twice.

“dude, you won't believe what she got me for my birthday,” jeremy began, his voice a mix of excitement and a hint of unease. he described the day at the lake house, where you had surprised him, jenna, and elena with an unforgettable experience. the dinner, the laughter, and the shared kayaking adventures—it all painted a vivid picture of the bond you shared as a family.

as jeremy recounted the story, a playful grin stretched across matt's face. “man, you've got it made, seriously. a girl like that, taking you and your family to a lake house? you're living the dream.”

tyler chimed in, a smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth. “yeah, seriously, jer. you lucked out big time.”

jeremy's smile wavered slightly, his heart clenching at the praise they heaped upon you. their words, though friendly, felt like sharp barbs poking at his insecurities. “yeah, i know,” he mumbled, unable to shake off the unease that was slowly settling in.

things took an unexpected turn when matt and tyler's banter shifted from friendly admiration to more overt compliments. ”i mean, seriously, man," matt said with a low whistle. "she's a knockout. like, total package.”

tyler nodded emphatically, his grin widening. “yeah, and she's perfect for you, jeremy. i'd steal her away if i could.”

jeremy's gaze faltered, his fists clenching involuntarily. their words, once lighthearted jests, were now chipping away at his pride. he felt like a bystander in his own story, watching as the foundation of his confidence crumbled bit by bit.

when your presence graced the scene, a bittersweet mix of emotions swirled within jeremy. as you approached, his heart swelled with love, but the nagging insecurity still clawed at him. you leaned in to plant a tender kiss on his cheek, your smile radiant and infectious as you said hi to his friends.

“hey, good luck on your test.” you said softly, your voice like a soothing melody. the scent of your perfume lingered in the air, wrapping around him like a comforting embrace. “thank you, baby.” he murmured softly, loving how he felt in your presence.

you gave him one final smile before walking away, leaving him to wrestle with his conflicted emotions. as he watched you go, he realized that while he might not be able to silence the voices of doubt around him, he had the power to fortify the love he shared with you. and with that resolve, jeremy took a deep breath, unwilling to confront his own insecurities and emerge stronger on the other side.

matt and tyler exchanged amused glances, and even though he couldn't hear their thoughts, jeremy was all too aware of what they were thinking. ”wow, she's gorgeous,“ matt remarked under his breath, and tyler's agreement was equally hushed, nodding his head in response.

jeremy's internal turmoil intensified, the knot of insecurity tightening in his chest. he wanted to fight back, to assert his claim over you, but the words stuck in his throat, suffocated by his own doubts.

amidst the quiet ambiance of the salvatore boarding house, the air was charged with a mix of anticipation and tension. you sat with jeremy, elena, bonnie, and caroline around a large table, textbooks and notes scattered in front of you. stefan had allowed you to come over, the space endearing and helpful with the upcoming exam nearly due. the history finals were looming, and the five of you were engrossed in studying, your determination palpable in the room.

as the sun began to dip below the horizon, casting a warm glow through the windows, the girls decided to take a break and headed over to the kitchen to get some refreshments. left alone with jeremy, you leaned over, a reassuring smile on your lips. “you're doing great, sweetheart. just a little more studying, and you'll be more than prepared for the this.”

he managed a half-smile in return, his gratitude evident in his eyes. the silence between you two was comfortable, but a sudden shift in the room's energy caught your attention. the entrance of the salvatore brothers—stefan and damon—had a way of drawing attention, and tonight was no exception.

as the brothers sauntered in, their playful smiles and casual charm turned every head in the house, yours not included, much to their dismay. stefan's eyes locked onto you, his lips curving into a flirtatious grin. “well, if it isn't the brilliant mind that's been helping these poor souls survive their history finals.”

damon leaned against the doorframe, his gaze flickering between you and jeremy. “and here i thought i was the one who needed saving.”

you chuckled lightly, your tone friendly but firm. “oh, come on, you two. you know the finals are serious business. we can't afford any distractions.”

stefan raised an eyebrow, a mischievous glint in his eyes. “who said anything about distractions? we're just here to appreciate your brilliance.”

damon's signature smirk played on his lips. “yeah, and maybe we can help test your memory, too.”

as their banter continued, you glanced over at jeremy, his jaw clenched and his grip on his pen tight. you intertwined your fingers with his, offering a subtle gesture of reassurance. the simple touch conveyed more than words ever could—the unbreakable bond you shared and the love that was unwavering. he met your gaze, his eyes softening as he realized you were there by his side, no matter what. it was in that moment that he found the strength to rise above his insecurities. with a deep breath, he leaned back in his chair, relaxing his posture.

you turned your attention back to the salvatore brothers, your smile maintaining its polite charm. “thank you for the offer, gentlemen, but we're in serious study mode here. maybe another time.”

stefan and damon exchanged a knowing look, their flirtatious facade melting into understanding. with a nod, they retreated to a nearby table, leaving you and jeremy in peace.

as the room returned to its quiet study ambiance, jeremy's grip on your hand eased, and he let out a sigh of relief. his eyes met yours, gratitude and admiration shining through. he finally found his voice, a mixture of emotions lacing his words. “you really are amazing, you know that?”

you squeezed his hand gently, your heart swelling with affection. “and you're incredible, jeremy. don't ever forget that.” your words were meant to put his mind at ease, but it was difficult to accomplish that, his insecurities piling up.

The bar was a symphony of laughter, clinking glasses, and the low hum of conversations. You found yourself at the center of the action, flanked by Rebekah and Elena, three shot glasses lined up in front of each of you. It was an unusual trio, but your gracious presence managed to ease the tension that usually hung between them, creating an atmosphere of camaraderie that was surprising even to them.

with each shot downed, the laughter flowed more freely, and even rebekah's sharp wit was met with amusement rather than animosity towards elena. your easygoing nature was a remarkable bridge between the two worlds they inhabited, and the barriers seemed to dissolve under your influence.

stefan leaned against the bar not far away, watching the scene unfold with an intrigued smile. he'd seen many things in his long life, but your ability to bring people together and lift their spirits was nothing short of impressive.

meanwhile, matt's voice broke through the merriment, his tone tinged with a mixture of awe and amusement. “well, well, well. look at you, turning heads even in a crowded bar.”

your outfit, a combination of stunning yet effortlessly stylish, drew appreciative glances from the patrons around you. your looks prompted playful comments and appreciative smiles, all of which you deflected with humility and grace.

but as the night wore on, a sense of unease crept into the air. tyler's lingering gaze hadn't gone unnoticed, and while you did your best to ignore it, you couldn't help but feel his eyes on you. the final straw came when he walked past you, his touch lingering just a bit too long as his hand grazed your waist in an unwelcome caress, an expression filled with desire gracing his face as he whispered a quiet, “shit,” of admiration.

“son of a bitch,” jeremy's reaction was swift and visceral, his restraint shattered by the blatant provocation. before anyone could fully comprehend what was happening, he lunged at tyler, his fists connecting with a solid thud. chaos erupted around you as people shouted and tried to separate the two.

elena and rebekah exchanged concerned glances, and without a word, they moved to help diffuse the situation. you followed suit, your heart pounding as you gripped jeremy's arm firmly. “jeremy, stop it, jeremy. it's not worth it!”

with elena and rebekah's assistance, tyler was pulled away, and the commotion gradually died down. breathing heavily, jeremy stared at his bloody knuckles, a mixture of anger, frustration, and shame in his eyes. when he locked eyes with you, he felt a wave of peace wash over him. it balanced out the fury he was feelinf. “jer,”

you guided him outside, the cool night air a stark contrast to the heated tension that had filled the bar just moments ago. you led him back to his house, the quiet journey giving him a chance to collect his thoughts. the walk to his house was insanely quiet, tension bubbling in the air as you held his bruised hand, being careful with the scars and wounds.

inside, you sat him down, his wounded hands cradled gently in yours. your touch was soothing, and the quiet intimacy of the moment allowed the floodgates of emotions to open for jeremy.

“i'm sorry,” he finally whispered, his voice a mixture of guilt and vulnerability. “i should have controlled myself. i shouldn't have let him get to me like that.” you met his gaze with unwavering understanding, your fingers gently cleaning the blood from his hands. “jeremy, talk to me,” you urged him softly. “i know something's bugging you, baby. i'm hear to listen.”

he sighed, his shoulders slumping as if a heavy burden had been lifted by your invitation. “it's just— it's hard, you know? seeing you with other guys, especially when they act like that around you. i feel like i'm not enough, like i can't give you what they can.”

your touch remained tender as you continued to clean his wounds, your eyes locked onto his with unwavering sincerity. “jeremy, listen to me,” you said, your voice steady and earnest. “what i have with you is something special, something that goes beyond surface attractions. it's about the way you make me laugh, the way you're there for me, and the way you care about the people around you.”

he looked down at his hands, his gaze unfocused as if lost in thought. “but they're all so charming and confident, and i'm just— me.”

you gently tilted his chin up, making sure his eyes met yours. “and that's exactly why i love you, jeremy. your genuine nature, your kindness, your charm, your confidence and your vulnerability—it's what sets you apart. you're real, and that's something incredibly precious.”

a mixture of emotions swirled in his eyes—gratitude, disbelief, and a lingering hint of insecurity. “i don't want to lose you.”

“you won't,” you reassured him with unwavering conviction. “i'm here because i want to be, jeremy. despite everything, i'm here because i love you. and i'm not going anywhere.”

his fingers gently brushed against your cheek, a tender gesture that spoke volumes. “you really mean that?”

“absolutely,” you replied, your voice filled with warmth. “we're in this together, through the ups and downs. remember, love isn't about comparing yourself to others. it's about understanding, supporting, and growing together.”

as your words settled between you, the weight of his insecurities seemed to lift, replaced by a renewed sense of hope and comfort. with a small smile, he leaned in and pressed a soft kiss to your lips, a gentle affirmation of the trust he was beginning to place in your words.

in that quiet moment, surrounded by the soft glow of the lamplight, you and jeremy found solace in each other's embrace. his vulnerability had become a bridge between you, a path to deeper understanding and a love that transcended any doubts. as the night wore on, your connection only grew stronger, a testament to the power of communication and the strength of your bond.

the room seemed to fade away as your lips met in a tender kiss, the world outside disappearing as you both sought solace in each other's touch. jeremy's arms wrapped around you, drawing you close as if he never wanted to let go. the warmth of his embrace, the taste of his lips—it was a reminder of the profound connection you shared, a connection that extended far beyond the physical realm.

the kiss deepened, a silent exchange of emotions that spoke volumes. his fingers tangled in your hair, his touch gentle yet filled with a raw longing. as you pulled back slightly, your breath mingling, his eyes met yours, a mixture of desire and vulnerability shining through.

“i love you,” he breathed, his voice a whisper that held the weight of his feelings. “i love you more than words can say.”

your heart swelled at his words, the sincerity in his gaze touching the depths of your soul. “jeremy, i love you too,” you replied, your voice soft but filled with a steadfast devotion.

his grip on you tightened, his fingers tracing a slow path along your spine. “i feel so lucky to have you, you know. sometimes it's hard to believe that you're mine.”

a small smile graced your lips as you cupped his cheek, your touch affectionate. “i feel just as lucky to have you,” you admitted, your voice carrying a hint of playfulness. “you're more than i ever could've dreamed of, jeremy gilbert.”

he pressed another kiss to your lips, the intensity of his emotions spilling over into the kiss itself. it was as if every touch, every sensation, was a testament to the love you shared, a love that defied the doubts and insecurities that had once haunted him.

as the world outside continued to turn, you and jeremy remained wrapped in each other's arms, the barriers of vulnerability breaking down as your connection deepened. in that intimate moment, you were both acutely aware of the preciousness of the love you shared—a love that wasn't defined by anyone else's opinions or the challenges you faced.

while you kissed, you both felt the sparks fly. jeremy was practically on top of you, hands on either side of your head as he hovered over you. “you're so good to me, jer,” you murmured as his lips travelled from your mouth to your jaw, kissing along the creases of your neck. he smiled into your neck as you threaded your fingers into his dark hair. “i gotta have you, baby.” you returned the smile, giggling as you extended your neck further towards the side, pushing him in deeper, his kisses and suckling growing more aggressive by the second. “gonna mark you up for all of them to see, okay?”

“i'm all yours, jer,” you panted, his lips never leaving your neck as he began discarding your top. “mark me, show them i'm yours.” he was all too pleased with your answer, grunting into your neck as he littered your skin with love bites, relishing in the way they immediately began to darken.

your hands roamed all over his torso as he took his shirt off, admiring his biceps and toned muscles. “look at you,” you praised him, loving the way his cheeks flushed at the compliments. “you're so perfect, jer. can't believe you're the insecure one.” he captured your lips with his, your fingers caressing the fresh scars on his knuckles, rubbing soothing circles into them. his lips melted into yours as he toyed with your boobs, his fingertips brushing against your nipples, twirling the hardening buds between them. you arched your lap, moaning into the kiss as you held onto his biceps. “you're the perfect one, look at you,” he murmured, his grip on your tits tightening as he played with them. “and you're all mine, i can't believe it.”

he trailed his tongue down south, from the valley of your breasts to your abdomen. the sensation sent a wave of goosebumps across your skin. “jer,” you breathed out, tugging gently on his perfect locks. he looked up at you as he pulled your skirt down, his hands covering every inch of your skin as he did so. he was so unbelievabley in love with you. before he could go any further, he discarded his jeans, leaving him in his tight boxers, his bulge on display, a wet spot marking the beginning of his arousal.

“i need you so bad,” he groaned, elbows on either side of your head as he hovered over you, hips grinding down slowly against your clothed pussy. you let out a soft moan at the friction, enjoying the way his hard-on pressed against your sensitive clit. “i can't wait, baby, i gotta be inside you.” you smiled at the way his pitch was borderline whiney, desperation in his voice.

“take me, jer, please.” you didn't have to plead with him to get your way. you assisted him, tugging your soaking wet panties down, pulling them off. jeremy peeled them off you, tugging them off your feet as he held your right one carefully, planting a soft kiss on the sole. “you don't have to ask me for anything, sweetheart,” he murmured, placing your foot back down gently before removing the last of his own clothing. “i'm gonna give you everything you want.”

he was quick to place a nearby pillow behind your back, right above your ass—he knew exactly what you liked and how you liked it. you gave him a helping hand, grabbing his cock with a spit-slicked hand, earning a hiss of pleasure as you positioned him between your legs, his raw, needy tip pressed right to your entrance, begging to be let in.

“are you sure you can take it all?” you nodded carefully, smiling at the way he had to make sure you were up to it. you really wished you could get used to jeremy's length, but you never really did despite your best efforts. it wasn't the first time you two were intimate, but it burned just as much.

his rigid, oozing tip pushed past your tight, slick walls, causing synchronized moans from the both of you. he leaned forward, pressing a soft kiss to your lips as you clawed at his back with your nails—he had another reason to work without a shirt on. “you're doing so good, baby,” he coaxed you to take in every inch he had to give you, moans passing your lips as he slid deeper into you, inch-by-inch. your moans progressed as his arms supported his weight, his hot breath fanning your neck as he snarled into your ear. “take all of it, just like that.”

your slicked, tight gummy walls clenched his dick with a passionate brutality, clinging onto it and refusing to let go without a fight. through his moans, jeremy worked on loosening you up to get a steady pace going. you felt the sounds of his lewd moans next to your ear shoot straight to your core, getting you riled up enough to lubricate yourself.

soon enough, he was thrusting into you at a steady pace. you both moaned at the same time, his fingers making their way onto yours, hands intertwining as he continued to assault your cunt. you fluttered around his dick, continuously taking him in with all the effort you could muster up. he drilled his dick into you, his hips slamming against yours with each thrust. your other hand clawed at his bicep as you moaned his name. it was a feeling of euphoria that couldn't be replicated. in the midst of his all, jeremy could still speak of what was in his heart.

“i love you, (y/n).”

“i love you too, jeremy.”

you gave his hand a tight squeeze as he picked up the pace, his tip brushing right against your sweet spot, making you see stars. you knew jeremy was close too, judging by the way he sped up, tempo borderline desperate as he groaned loudly, returning the hand squeeze. when he came, he didn't bother pulling out, cursing your name as he filled you up—filled you right to the brim with hot, sticky cum. “come on, baby, cum for me, come on,” he practically coaxed the orgasm out of you, a palm just under your stomach, pressing into the skin as your pretty walls milked his cock dry. you came just a few seconds after, walls sputtering around his softening dick as you cried out for him.

he stayed there, just like you had stayed by him all this time. even after such intimacy, he knew just how to hold you. the tenderness in his touch was evident, even as he cleaned you up. even as you cleaned him up, despite the exhaustion that came over you. you held his hand all the way up to his room, helping him with the dirty, discarded laundry and getting him into his pajamas. you had tucked him in just they way he liked it before crawling into bed next to him, his arms protectively wrapping around you, pulling you in even closer. in that moment, everything he had already known was confirmed, but it wasn't until the early morning, when the smell hit him—the smell of good, home-cooked breakfast and the empty spot on the bed next to him.

he had you all to himself.

[darkshelbyfiction]

The Nanny Diaries (Part One)

Pairing: Cillian Murphy x Innocent Reader

Warning: Dark Cillian has an innocence kink...Smut...Infidelity...Dub Con

It had been three months since you started working for Cillian and Lorna Murphy, looking after their two young children Sienna and Mitch.

You had recently turned eighteen and left your small town in America, eager to see the world beyond your front door so, moving to Dublin, was the perfect opportunity for you.

Through a family friend, who was an actor as well, you were given the chance to work as an Au Pair for the famous Irish actor who, with his wife and children, lived in a beautiful country estate just outside Dublin city, surrounded by vast gardens filled with flowers and trees.

Their home was like a sanctuary where nature merged seamlessly into luxury - wooden floors, high ceilings adorned with original works of art and large bay windows which looked out onto acres of greenery.

Their children were absolutely adorable.

Little Sienna was full of energy, running all over the place, whilst little Mitch would be curled up watching cartoons quietly. At first, it seemed strange, but gradually you found yourself enjoying every moment spent playing games, reading bedtime stories and preparing meals for them.

The only person whose company made you feel slightly nervous, however, was Cillian himself. You felt a strange and somewhat forbidden attraction towards this 45 year old man, something no one could quite understand considering how close he was to your father’s age.

However, being strictly catholic and engaged to young man back home, you brushed this off as simply being star struck and though Cillian wasn't exactly flirtatious, there was something undeniably captivating about him.

Cillian soon noticed the way you looked at him, the subtle flush of excitement that crossed your face when he walked into the room, and despite his own marriage status, he began making excuses to get closer to you. His constant praise made you blush, while the lingering glances gave you butterflies in your stomach.

One evening after Lorna had gone to bed, Cillian invited you to listen to some music with him in the dimly lit living room.

There was a comforting familiarity in the scent of leather, polished wood and roaring embers in the fireplace as you sat down beside him on the plump sofa. For some reason, your heart skipped a beat as you sank deeper into the soft upholstery and Cillian silently handed you a glass of wine and smiled.  

"You did well today. Thanks for looking after them so diligently," Cillian acknowledged just as you traced the contours of his strong jaw line with your eyes.

"They are good kids. Despite, looking after them, is my job," you stammered in response. You couldn't help feeling nervous around this man, even more now since it was just the two of you.

"Still, it's nice not having to worry. So, thank you," Cillian said while leaning back into the couch, crossing one leg over another. "It can be quite draining sometimes looking after them."

"It can be," you smiled while your cheeks reddened as you tried not to stare at him openly. For a moment silence enveloped the space before you continued speaking softly, barely audible enough for him to hear properly.

"So you like Portishead, huh?" you asked, changing the topic to music as their album "Glorybox" was playing in the background. His face shifted to curiosity briefly, then turned serious again as he reached out slowly to brush his hand over your knee. 

"I do. How about you? he asked, turning his head towards you.  "Do you like their music?" he then asked and you felt a mix of fear and excitement surging through your body upon the sudden contact - your heart raced faster, and a warmth seemed to rise up inside you as his fingers caressed gently along your thigh. Trying hard to maintain composure, you responded casually yet uneasily.

"I do," you managed to utter softly as his fingers traced higher along your inner thigh. As his hand lingered there uninvited, your breath quickened involuntarily – a mixture of panic and arousal coursing through your veins. It wasn't right, what he was doing, but still, deep within you, a primal urge took hold.

"How is your boyfriend? Are things good between you?" Cillian prodded, leaning closer as he spoke. You could feel his breath tickling your ear as he whispered these words, sending chills down your spine despite yourself. Your hands trembled lightly, unsure whether to push him away or surrender to his advances, caught somewhere between terror and thrilling anticipation.

"He...uhm...yes... he is good," you stammered as his fingers dipped deeper beneath your skirt, brushing against your underwear teasingly, causing a wave of heat to ripple throughout your core.

Aware of the danger you were in, a part of you wanted to resist, while another desperately desired to succumb to his touch, craving the sensuality he offered with such intensity. 

"Do you miss him?" Cillian asked quietly, almost tenderly while his fingers ran circles over your moistening panties.

Unable to think clearly due to the intensity of his advances, you struggled to find your voice. Involuntarily, your mouth hung open, dazed by the sensations that flowed through your body.

"I do miss him, yes," you finally murmured, unable to meet his eyes, as you fought to quell the desire rising up inside you. This was wrong, terribly wrong, but why did it feel so right?

"Do you miss him touching you like this?" Cillian asked huskily as, finally, he pushed aside the wet fabric of your knickers, allowing his finger to slide tantalisingly over your wet slit.

"He never..." you mumbled hesitantly, trying to regain control of both your mind and body, struggling to ignore the growing sense of guilt mixed with exhilaration that consumed you. 

"He never what?" Cillian challenged, his tone darkening as his finger continued to explore the sensitive folds between your legs. One of his fingers began to push its way inside you, penetrating your tight entrance gently yet firmly, eliciting gasps and whimpers from you as pleasure ricocheted through your body. 

"He never touched me down there before," you admitted reluctantly, knowing it wouldn't matter anyway because you knew deep down that this went far beyond mere physical exploration.

"Really?" Cillian queried with disbelief, pulling his fingers free from your quivering passage before pushing it in again, harder this time, his thumb pressing rhythmically against your clitoris. You let out a strangled cry, lost in the throes of ecstasy as your entire body writhed in pleasure.

"Have you ever touched yourself like this?" Cillian questioned deeply, his tone laced with raw passion, drawing a sharp intake of air from you. You didn't answer immediately, too absorbed in the exquisite sensations consuming your body. But eventually, the truth emerged haltingly from your lips.

"No. It's not allowed," you confessed seeing that you were strictly catholic, ashamed of admitting the fact aloud, wishing to sink into the floor beneath you.

"Do you want me to stop?" Cillian asked softly, lifting his hand away from your drenched crotch to rest it once more on the armrest of the couch. Your mind reeled as the erotic spell broke, leaving you feeling bewildered and confused.

Despite the intensity of the encounter, you shook your head defiantly, determined not to allow yourself to be further enticed.

"Alright. Can you take off your panties for me then?" Cillian commanded authoritatively, breaking the momentary awkwardness. His eyes bore into yours, demanding obedience. Reluctantly, you nodded, sliding your skirt lower until your knickers slipped off easily, exposing your naked thighs and pussy. The bold act sent shockwaves through your system, filling you with a potent cocktail of shame and arousal. Cillian observed you hungrily, appreciating the sight of your supple curves and smooth skin.

With determination in his eyes, he reached for your exposed thighs, rubbing his palms alluringly up and down them until his fingers found your wet labia. Gently cupping your sex, he teased you playfully, watching closely as your breath caught in your throat and your pupils widened with desire. 

His erection strained against his jeans, making your nipples perk up in response.

He then inserted not one but two of his thick digits into your dripping core gently, feeling the resistance of your virginity as he thrust them in and out as small streak of blood trickled onto his fingers.

There was some discomfort in your expression, partly due to the pain caused by your first sexual experience but also fueled by anxiety and confusion regarding the situation.

Inside you, your mind wavered between feelings of remorse and yearning satisfaction as his powerful hands controlled your movements, taking command of your pleasure.

As he moved inside you, his touch became firmer, his pace picking up speed, creating a sensation unlike anything you had ever known before. Your whole body ached, your muscles twitching with the force of the waves crashing through you.

"You are incredibly tight," Cillian remarked approvingly, withdrawing his fingers momentarily only to plunge them back in again with greater fervor. His rough hands expertly navigated your insides, working you mercilessly, ignoring the protest of your uninitiated flesh. Each penetration drove a fresh wave of pleasure through your body, your nerves firing rapidly, setting every inch of your skin ablaze until, suddenly, you couldn't hold back any longer.

With a loud moan escaping your lips, you eventually came undone and Cillian covered your mouth with the palm of his free hand as your body  began convulsing violently in orgasm.

"Sssh, we don't want to wake up Lorna," he chuckled quietly as your vision swam as your world turned upside down, your entire focus narrowed down to the sensations washing over you. Aftershocks radiated through your limbs, causing tiny tremors to run up and down your body as if electric currents surged through your very soul.

Breathless and flushed, you collapsed back into the embrace of the couch, exhausted and invigorated simultaneously as Cillian carefully withdrew his fingers from inside your body. 

Wetness and a tiny amount of blood tickled down onto the leather fabric on which you were sitting as your heart hammered wildly in your chest.

Cillian smiled devilishly at you, amused by how quickly he had brought you to climax, and you felt both grateful and somewhat shocked.

Your stomach squirmed with a strange mix of emotions: gratitude, humiliation, and embarrassment battled furiously amongst themselves. Your cheeks reddened with a combination of both physical stimulation and shame.

"I shouldn't have done that," you muttered, attempting to make sense of your own behaviour. You had committed a sin against God and your morals, and now, here you were - wanting more of it.

The thought scared you, but something stirred deep within you, telling you it would be foolish to dismiss it entirely. There was a power to this darkness that held an addictive quality, like the forbidden fruit you had just sampled.

"You seemed to have enjoyed it though," Cillian smirked. His statement carried undertones that left no doubt as to what he meant just as you both were startled by Lorna who came walking down the stairs to fetch herself a drink from the fridge.

Quickly, you adjusted your skirt to cover your slightly bruised and still wet entrance before hastily grabbing your discarded knickers. Cillian, without missing a beat, made himself appear nonchalant, leaning casually against the armrest beside you.

Lorna looked curiously at the both of you, remarking "It seems quite late. You should come to bed Cillian", unaware of the recent events transpiring.

"I will be up in just a minute love". Cillian lied, hoping to prolong the interaction with you for just a little bit longer but, unfortunately for him, you decided to head to your room instead, claiming tiredness.

After you closed the door behind you, the tension dissolved slightly and Cillian sighed audibly, running his hand through his messy locks, visibly conflicted, pondering on about what happened. 

Even as he prepared for sleep later that evening, right next to his wife, he couldn't help but dwell upon the enchanting image of you submitting to his touch, succumbing under his influence. Something about your innocence intrigued him even more than other women had. Perhaps it was the challenge you presented—the thrill of dominance over someone who belonged to another man.

Or maybe it was the sweet, lingering aftertaste of guilt you left on his tongue whenever he took liberties with your pure body. Whatever the reason, he simply could not resist pursuing you further despite the danger it posed to his marriage.

Meanwhile, you too, were laying in bed, thinking about what had transpired. 

Your mind raced through memories of your earlier interactions with Cillian – his confidence, his touch, his mannerisms. There was that secret part of you that craved more contact, regardless of where it might lead. This newfound curiosity frightened you almost as much as it excited you. 

You wondered what it would be like to touch him the way he had touched you, whether his experienced body would respond to you as you did to him. For so long, the idea of intimacy had been taboo for you, yet somehow, those strict boundaries seemed to shift when it came to Cillian. 

Your core ached from the intrusion, and your cheeks burned with indignation, but there was a spark of excitement that lit up deep within you as well. 

You wanted him to do this again and you knew that this was wrong and so did he. 

[thatone-brightstar]

The Bear & The Fox (Carmy Berzatto x Fem!Reader)

Chapter 5: The Fantastic Mrs. Fox pt. 1

Words: 4.3k

Summary: Carmy deals with his nightmares while you deal with your family.

a/n: This is more fluff but I'll make it up with smut on the next one ;) Hope you enjoy! xx

PS. Reader is latina in this and if you are too, you’ll probably understand the families…

He could not remember the last time his lungs didn’t ache from the lack of air. It felt like he could finally catch a decent breath and his neck wasn’t strained from its constant outstretched position, trying to hold his head above the murky water before it pulled him under the current. The pressure in his chest was rubbed away by dexterous fingers covered in velvet clay as you molded him into one of your beautiful art pieces, fingerprints permanently etched into his surface.

He didn’t want to give credit of his newly found good mood to whatever you two had, he wasn’t the kind to let anyone influence over his emotions. Many years of abusive behavior in the world’s best kitchens had made him believe he was above all that. He could whisk a Hollandaise sauce by hand in less than a minute, while some entitled asshole butchered his self esteem with every word and yet it would still be the best shit that had left that kitchen. He didn’t believe he was above it, he knew.

And yet, a single ‘hope ur having a great day xx’ text from you was enough to dissipate the boiling irritation beginning to grow after a very shitty day, the simple sentence curling his lips into a small smile.

The week had been going smoothly. Apart from the day where he had to break the news to the team that you wouldn’t be coming back to work due to… personal priorities, everything had been smooth sailing. At least as smooth as it can be when the ship is held by duct tape and is constantly on fire. The payment on their meat deliveries was finally up to date, meaning that they could order more product, which in turn meant more sales for the restaurant. 

He called you after closing and while he finished scrubbing a few grimey spots on the floor he told you the good news. You were just as excited as he was, probably even more, because this meant that his plan to turn The Beef into a respectable business was finally starting to take shape. 

In a low whisper you told him how glad you were and when he answered that ‘there’s still so much more left to do’, you replied with ‘Yeah, but that’s one less thing to worry about. I’m really proud of you for it.’

Your words had trickled through his veins, sticky sweet invading his body and keeping him warm as he drove home and settled on his couch to rest his eyes.

The warmth, however, had now dissipated into thin slivers of distress that circled his throat and constricted his airway. Mirages of blinding white tiles and glistening stainless steel haunted his vision, no matter how hard he closed his eyes. A booming voice that sounded like his own but laced with unknown malice vibrated in his skull and crept under his skin as it repeated the familiar mantra for the tenth time in a row, ‘Mikey was wrong, you can’t handle it’. The taste of smoke filled his lungs, drawing heavy droplets of water from his eyes and forcing him to the floor, heaving in desperation. Roaring flames invaded his view, crawling up the walls and swallowing everything around him in an angry orange blaze.

Carmy’s body jerked awake, wild eyes scanning the dark surrounding for the immediate threat. The lulling sounds of the cooking channel were no more than static to the ringing in his ears and the tang of inexistent smoke felt heavy inside his mouth. He rubbed his eyes ferociously, hoping this would clear the image of his burning kitchen now carved into his mind. Through the cloudy haze of adrenaline and angst, his own thoughts seemed far in the distance, like he was floating away from his own existence, like if nothing was real.

A pang in his chest made him grip over his heart with shaky fingers, the all too familiar bile beginning to strut its way up his trachea at the intrusive thought that maybe you too had been a vision fabricated by his fucked up head. It would only make sense, how someone as perfect as you had just suddenly appeared like a lifeline, bright and beautiful, taking a liking to him of all people. Maybe he had finally lost his marbles, The Beef and everyone in that fucking place had finally broken him,

“Okay, okay, okay, get your shit together.” He mumbled to himself and rubbed a hand over his sweat covered face. 

He tried to breathe in as deeply as he could with his aching lungs, hold it in then exhale shakily, like he had once read in one of those psychology posts that seemed irrelevant until now. With fingers pressing tightly against his temples, he continued the breathing exercises until he no longer felt like his chest would concave into a black hole. He dragged his other hand to the space between his torso and the backrest of the couch where he could feel the hard surface of his phone and unlocked it with slight trembling fingers.

His thumb hovered over the call button in your contact info, doubting if he should inconvenience you with his mental crap, especially at four in the morning. Instead, he moved to his gallery where the bright image contrasted between pictures of gloomy skylines and invoice reminders. Bright green gelée with vibrant edible violets stared back at him through the lit up screen while he readjusted himself in the small sofa, the pastry soothed the turmoil of negative thoughts regarding your existence and served as the confirmation his head needed to allow his worked up body some desired rest.

**********

It was Sweep’s turn to play the music for the day, and while normally he would just tune it out until service hours, the insistent bass mixed with his sleep deprivation, drilled a consistent hole right between his brows.

“Yo chef, turn that shit down, will ya?” He asked Syd, who stood close to the radio, cutting onions.

Despite their system functioning slightly better, Carmy couldn’t help being on edge from the moment he walked through the door, expecting anything and everything to go wrong. He could blame the nightmare still fresh in his mind, but he knew the sudden waves of anxiety had begun way before forcefully inheriting The Beef. Somewhere between New York and Noma.

Remnants of the conversation with his sister the week before surfaced from the shallow water and he remembered the pamphlets he had been skimming over right before discarding them completely when you had gone in to quit. A soft smile covered his face as the memories of everything that happened that night replayed in his head, then he cleared his throat to cover it up. 

He finished dicing the vegetables for the giardiniera with mechanical ease, then threw everything in a low pot with vinegar, water, salt, pepper and a few bay leaves, leaving it to simmer. When he asked Tina to watch it for him, he only received a soft grunt as a response, which he answered with a ‘thank you, T.’ and retrieved into the office to find the pamphlets and give another good look over them. 

Maybe Sugar wasn’t so crazy to suggest Al-Anon Family. God knows he needed somewhere to vent after all the shit that had happened in the past couple months. He was never the type to ‘talk about it’, no one in his family was, which was probably the biggest reason why the thing with his brother had happened. He was used to swallowing it down, whether it was his brother’s rejection or the constant verbal assault of America’s Next Top Chef Imbecile. He was used to keeping it controlled, letting it simmer slowly in the depths of his stomach, until it reduced into a thick red paste that invaded his veins and darkened his vision. 

Before the voice in the back of his head convinced him that ‘It wasn’t worth it’ and that ‘all you need to do is man up, not fuckin therapy’, he saved the number in bold black letters to his contacts for safe keeping, promising himself he’d call during his next break.

Three soft knocks on the flimsy material of the open door caught his attention as he saved the papers into one of the many crowded drawers. He turned around in his chair and a new wave of found air reached his lungs. 

“Hey ” You whispered, stepping into the small space, bottom lip caught in your teeth. “Am I interrupting?”

“Hey…” He breathed in, and for the first time in a while, he felt like the oxygen had finally filled his lungs. “N-no, no, no, of course not. What’s up?”

Carmy stood from his seat with renewed energy, stretching a hand to caress your forearm but stopped himself midway when he remembered that you hadn’t really talked about how you would approach this new situation whenever you visited the restaurant. Your eyes flickered to his stagnant hand and your grip around a grease stained cardboard box tightened. You threw a quick glance over your shoulder to make sure no one was looking, then softly pushed the door closed with your boot, until you heard a click. Immediately after, you carelessly dropped the box on his desk and circled your arms around his shoulders, pulling him down to your hungry lips. His arms automatically closed around your form and a soft hum escaped your throat as you melted into his warm embrace. It was absurd how quickly he had gotten used to the tender movements of your silky lips on his, because at that moment, he could not remember how he had lived so long deprived of such a delightful experience. 

A light laugh escaped your mouth when your side hit the edge of his desk after he unconsciously spun you in the small space.

You pulled your face to take a few deep breaths as well as calm your thundering heartbeat, and when you finally opened your eyes, he swore you held the entire cosmos inside the dark, glittering voids.

“I just came to drop off family, but this is nice too.” You joked under your breath and he followed along.

“Hmm..what’d you make?”

“Empanadas.” You answered with a warm smile and reached for the forgotten box behind you. “See?” A savory scent invaded his nose from the moment you opened the lid, his stomach registering the estranged sensation of hunger after the long day.

“Shit… that smells fire.”

“You wanna take one now? Knowing them, there won’t be many left.”

“Oh no thanks, I’m good.”

You stared at him with a blank expression, then pushed the open box to him. You looked at him expectantly, then at the box and back at him. He sighed but reached into it and took one, placing it over a closed binder on his desk.

“Happy?” 

“Mhm, very.” You answered with a satisfied smile, standing on your toes and giving him a chaste kiss. “So, whatcha lookin’ at?” You ask, dropping your bag over the familiar spot.

Carmy let you go and sat back down on the revolving chair with a sigh, analyzing how much of the truth he should tell you. He wasn’t sure if you knew about Mikey and all the shit that had gone down. From what he remembered, you had come in when the waters had finally settled and only the disaster after the storm remained. 

The same wrenching feeling from the night before invaded his mind at the thought of dragging you into his mess.

“Just uhm…” He rubbed his face with his elbows resting on his thighs “Some accounting stuff I can’t get my head around.” He answered instead.

Your soft touch combed through the knotted curls of his hair, careful fingers massaged the neglected scalp and an involuntary sigh parted his lips. It’s like the simple act had triggered his neck to lose hold on his head because soon he felt the soft fabric of your shirt pressed against his forehead and eyes as you stood in front of him, massaging his worries away. You stepped between his separated legs, racking your nails from his scalp down his neck and to his tense shoulders, disarming him completely. The swell in his chest grew for a very different reason when he realized just how touch starved he truly was, as he could not remember the last time someone had treated him with such tenderness and care. If there ever was such a time.

“Maybe you just need some rest…” You said softly. “I’m sure you’ll figure it out soon enough.”

His hands rubbed absentmindedly along the length of your thighs, humming in response to your caring words. He rose his head from its comfortable place to look up at you. You smiled delicately down at him and cupped his face between your hands, then placed a loving kiss in the valley of his eye brows.

That was enough for the lock that guarded the Pandora’s box in the back of his darkened mind to break in two. His mouth parted lightly as the Adam's apple in his throat grew two sizes too big for words to escape, and he knew, though not if it was good or bad, that no one else would ever top the rush of emotions you had made him experience with such a simple gesture.

Your brows raised in confusion at his expression. “What?” You asked through a nervous laugh.

He shook his head with a light smile, gripping tightly at your hips where his hands had stopped, then stood from his chair.

“C’mon, let go feed these fuckers.”

Carmy placed his hand on your lower back as the other held on to the box, then after you opened the office door, you walked to the dining area where most of the bustle came from.

“Well, well, well, look what the cat dragged in and left to die!” Richie’s voice boomed above everyone else's, making the team turn in your direction.

There was a sudden screech of chairs as the group got up to greet you with enthusiasm, the sound made Carmy’s small migraine pulse but the sight of your excited expression soothed it back down.

“Look at you, all pretty in your blue aprons!” You said between laughs scanning your ex coworkers’ uniforms.

“Jeff says it compliments my eyes.” Tina joked, batting her lashes up at you.

“He couldn’t be more right.” You answered, hugging her side and turning to him with beaming eyes. 

Marcus took the box from Carmy’s hands excitedly, opening it on his way to the table and setting it in the middle for all to take.

“Yo, these look sick! You made them?” He asked you after everyone had settled back down and you took a seat between Carmy and Syd.

“Yeah, well, my grandad helped. They good?”

“Tastes like shit..” Ebra mumbled through a mouthful of dough and everyone laughed.

“They’re actually an invitation-”

“I accept.” He interrupted and you snickered lightly.

“Where to?” Marcus asked.

“My grandpa’s turning 76 tomorrow. I was supposed to invite you guys like two weeks ago but I kinda forgot. So as long as you don’t tell my mother, I’ll make sure you leave on the verge of alcohol poisoning and with enough food for three days..”

He heard a few ‘Niceee’ from the youngests of the group, while Angel tried bargaining the amount of rations per person and failing miserably, bumping it down to two days and receiving a light smack in the head from Manny.

“Wow, wait I don’t think I can make it. I gotta work tomorrow.” 

“Yeah, me too babe, sorry.”

Marcus and Sweeps let you know and when he turned to you, he could see your brows drop very slightly in disappointment.

“Yeah, I think we’re all on the clock tomorrow…” Richie said from his corner of the table.

“O-oh” He saw you swallow slowly, then smile softly to hide your expression. “No biggie, then. I’ll just tell her you’re all busy, she’ll understand.”

A few sorry’s spread through the group as they continued eating. 

He remembered Tina had asked him for Sunday off a week ago and so did Sydney, so he assumed they would be there, but he knew how much it meant to you that everyone could go. They were your other family, after all.

Without overthinking it, the words bubbled in his throat, spilling over the edge before he could stop them.

“We could close.”

The movements stopped completely when everyone turned around to him, stunned. He cleared his throat out of nervousness from the sudden attention, then spoke again.

“For dinner, I mean.” He specified.

“Seriously?” Syd asked in surprise. “Cause even with our off days we’ve been opening daily for the past, what like two and a half months?”

“Yeah, but we’re finally up to date with the meat sourcers and we have at least a two week parachute to keep us off the ground.” Carmy flicked his eyes to your confused face, then back to the group. “Plus, I think we’ve all earned a good rest, right?”

The family erupted in delight at the good news, clear skies ahead as they felt they were almost out of the woods. Besides, no one could say no to a night of free food and booze.

While they finished eating, they arranged plans on how to carpool for the next day or on who would be the unlucky idiot to be the designated driver, at least out of the ones that could drive. Under the table, Carmy snuck his hand to rest over your knee, slow enough to not catch the attention of the crew, and yours cupped over it gingerly. A glowing smile covered your features when you looked at him, mouthing a very much heartfelt ‘Thank you’, that reached the dingiest parts of his tethered soul and appeased the flames bubbling in his core.

**********

You had not known a single moment of peace since the second your mother barged into your room to throw the covers off you around eight, nagging on how late it was for you to still be in bed at that hour. You could hear the familiar Spanish ballads playing on the TV, which indicated it was Sunday morning in your household; as well as the rowdy laughter of your aunts, scraping pans around as they made breakfast for everyone in the crowded apartment.

The morning was spent between answering personal questions about your dating life and hauling decorations down the multiple flights of stairs into the patio beside the complex. After bribing the maintenance guy with twenty dollars and the promise of free booze, he agreed to let you use the space in private for the afternoon, even helping you hang the string of paper decorations around the available tree branches and offering an extension cord for the fairy lights. Joshua carried most of the tables and chairs, ones he borrowed from a friend of his who owned a rental shop and after half an hour of figuring out the best layout, you were finally done. 

You were quite proud of the turnout. The mismatched chairs and different colored tableware felt warm and inviting, just like the red carnations that sat in the makeshift wine vases along the main table. Your heart warmed at the sight of your grandmother’s favorite flowers, before closing the backdoor and walking up one last time to eat something then get ready.

“So, is your boyfriend coming?” Joshua broke the silence as you passed the second floor.

“The fuck are you on?” You asked back, a soft tint rising up your neck.

He turned around from a few steps above you and snickered. “C’mon, Fox. I saw him drop you off the other day.” His smile grew when he saw you swallow hard and that was confirmation enough. “I’m not telling ma, jus’ so  y’know.”

“I know you won’t,” Your step quickened up a few stairs, then you kicked his right foot to his left while it was in the air, causing him to almost trip on himself. “cause if you do, I'll tell her about the time you and Nico took the car to go see titties and you were almost arrested.” 

He rolled his eyes and groaned. “Dude, that was like two years ago, when will you let it go?!”

“When you two incels pay me back the bribe I had to give the bouncer so he wouldn’t call the cops on your asses!”

“Alright, fine! I won’t say shit..”

“That’s what I fuckin’ thought…”

“What do you care anyway?” You asked after a few silence filled seconds.

“I don’t, '' he answered defensively. “Just makin’ sure it’s not that tall asshole from your job.”

Now it was your turn to snicker. “Who Richie?”

Your little brother shrugged and the story Richie had told you on your first day, about the nerd that punched Carmy, came back to mind. A malicious smirk curled on your lips as you reached your floor, one hand lifting to pat sarcastically up on his shoulder.

“Don’t worry bout it weasel, it’s not Richie… It’s the other one.” You said, walking ahead of him. “The one you punched, ‘member?”

You heard the squeak of his sneakers at the sudden stop and you had to bite your cheek to not burst into laughter as you crossed the open apartment door.

A wave of scents and sounds invaded your senses the moment you walked through the threshold, overwhelming to the point of a starting headache. It also didn’t help that all your stomach had processed was a cup of coffee a couple hours ago and that you had wasted most of your energy running up and down trying to make everything look presentable. You crossed the hallway and moved directly to the kitchen to find something to eat before getting ready. 

You were greeted by the welcome committee of your three matriarchs, all working on a different recipe around the counter, covered to the brim in ingredients.

“Ay, mi amor, you grew so tall!” Angie called excitedly the moment she saw you walk in.

“I've been the same size since senior year, tia, but thank you.” You laughed, hugging her shoulders softly to not move her hands cutting up veggies.

“Ya terminaron?” Your mother asked, kneading some dough inside a bowl.

You pulled a pear from the fruit bowl and nodded towards her. They continued gossiping as they worked through the ingredients and you chewed on your fruit in silence. 

There was something you found peaceful about the women in your family, especially in these sorts of events. How they all knew with perfection their role, their gear that worked in synchronicity inside the machine. It was always so beautiful to watch them cook together, even as a child you were astonished at how they moved with ease around each other, knowing their needs without having to voice them. It was like watching a ballet company that had been training on perfecting the same choreography all their lives. They were the main reason you had gone into cooking before anything else was even considered an option. They made you see it as a dance, elegant and exact.

A sudden slap in the back of the head brought you back from your thoughts. 

“Ay! Pendejo!” You shouted at your brother, rubbing your head and glaring in his direction.

“Mom’s talking to you!”

“And that’s why you hit me, you fuckin’ idiot!?”

A chorus of warning ‘Hey's was thrown to both of you, a reminder to behave on the important day.

“I was asking you if you invited your friends from work.” Your mother asked again.

“Mhm, they’ll be here around noon.”

She nodded slowly then looked back up at you with a subtle smile. “And did you invite that Carmy boy?”

“Ooh, who’s that?” Tere pitched in, now drawing the women’s attention towards your topic of conversation.

You bit back into the pear, ignoring the question as your mother took over for you.

“Oh, a boy that works with her, has the loveliest of blue eyes.” She said, widening her eyes and causing a wave of chuckling from her sisters. “What is he, russian?” She asked you.

“Italian.” You mumbled, through your chewing.

“Italian, that’s right!” Then she gasped as an idea came to mind. “You should introduce him to your cousin Sarita, y’know how lonely she’s been since her divorce…” Her voice shrinked into a whisper, as if she were telling a long kept secret.

You stopped mid bite at her words, sweeping through the sets of eyes that now waited expectantly for your answer. Joshua stood across the counter with a mocking smile and an apple in hand, while his other arm circled Angie’s shoulders.

“That’s a great idea ma, you should totally introduce ‘em to Sarita.” He said, then bit into his apple to hide the stupid grin invading his face.

You wanted nothing more than to lodge the fruit so far down his throat that he’d live with two Adam’s apples for the rest of his days, but you knew you’d have to answer for your crime against your mother’s darling boy. Instead you swallowed the last bite and left the space with the excuse of getting ready for the evening.

‘My mother wants to set you up with my cousin.

How good are you with kids?’

Read the text you sent Carmy while getting ready to take a shower. Your phone pinged less than a minute later and the little blue heart you had added next to his name made your stomach flutter.

‘Once sedated a party full of ��em.

But other than that, pretty decent’

A loud laugh vibrated through your chest at his answer and you saved it in your mental folder under ‘stuff to ask him about’, next to the swirling designs on his torso and on how he had ended up stuck with The Beef, of all places.

Chapter 6.

Taglist: @pearlstiare @teteminne and that’s it lmao

[automeris-io-moth]

Snippet.

“Do you want to know how it felt?” the girl asked, blowing out the smoke from the cigarette in her hand, a cough from her chest echoing through the metal sheet walls of the warehouse, at the lack of response of the one observing her from down the floor, sitting crossed-legged and still before her, she stretched her wings open, and continue “Nothing has ever hurt as much as that, and I doubt something will ever do. The breaking of each bone to rearrange itself into something it was never meant to be, the tearing of the skin, opening your muscles, exposing the ligaments to the open air. It was gruesome, I bursted a blood vessel in my eye from the effort of crying, I was too weak to stand and ended up completely covered in blood.” 

Civilian noticed something in her voice, an accent of sorts she did not recognize the origin of, a sadness embedded in it, something she had unlearned and learned once more, something she used as part of herself then, something she had recovered and adapted. 

Civilian liked the accent. 

After a long drag of the cigarette, the tail was offered her way, the girl holding it between two fingers for her to inhale from her hands. Civilian did, coughing out harshly as a burning ache went down to her lungs, the other laughed. 

“It’s horrible, isn’t it?” she said, eyes fixed on her like a hawk, like a bird of prey, like exactly what she was “I hated it too, once, before all this shitshow I always declined a drag, unless of course it came from a pretty girl, if it came from a pretty girl I would suck it right up, smoke whatever was offered.” 

A smile was drawn on her face, Civilian swallowed. 

“Is that what happened here, Civ?” 

“Well I, I was curious, I’ve never smoked before,” her voice trembled at her answer.

“Don’t let me corrupt you then.” 

Villain finished her cigarette, setting off the tip on the sole of her boot. The other girl stayed quiet, quiet and observing the surroundings of the warehouse, wore down but certainly used, not for living, of course, too much dust and spiders for such, a waste too, of course, for Villain, as she was, could live anywhere else in the world, amongst prodigies of the arts, of the crafts, of the science. A dirty old warehouse was no place for her. 

But she understood too, she had a warehouse of herself when the days felt too overwhelming, probably then the cameras and the responsibility one could take in a situation such as the winged woman sitting too uncaringly before her was much worse, she imagined, then the one from college and family. 

Sharp yellow eyes met her when she turned once more to face Villain.

“Why do you keep coming?” 

“I like you,” she answered with more firmness and determination than she thought herself capable.

“I’m not that likeable.” 

“I disagree.” 

Villain let out a huff, something not quite a laugh but pretty close.

“I like you too, then, Civ.” 

_

Those words, spoken what seemed ages ago, burnt still on her skin. Perhaps literally, she laughed at the thought, as the uncomfortable warmth of the burning building behind her stung dangerously close to the side of her cheek, the back of her neck and her uncovered arms left to the night wind as she stood still in her pyjamas. 

And Villain looked as beautiful as she remembered under the moonlight, the brown of her hair casting a red shadow against the burning of the wood and the metal of her home. 

“I’m so sorry, Hero,” the blessed one apologised, hand cold even with the fire burning before her cradling her face so tenderly, lifting her chin to face each other “I’m sorry something as ugly as me fell in love with you.” 

_

Masterlist

I'm back with a small snippet from something longer piece I've been working on

[talonabraxas]

Taurus Talon Abraxas

Unleashing the Power of Taurus’s Spirit Animal: A Guide

The symbolism of the bull as Taurus’s spirit animal extends to themes of fertility, abundance, and sensuality, making it ideal for rituals related to manifestation and prosperity.

To harness the energy of Taurus’s spirit animal, witches can perform rituals involving earth elements, such as grounding spells or working with crystals like emerald and rose quartz.

Rituals involving the bull spirit can enhance one’s ability to set and achieve practical goals, fostering a sense of unwavering determination and resilience.

Incorporating the bull’s energy into your witchcraft practice can also help you connect with the earth’s energies, deepening your spiritual connection with nature and the cycles of life.

Taurus’s spirit animal

Taurus’s spirit animal is the bull. It is a very stable sign-in which stubbornness and a lot of possessiveness are present. The animal moves and thinks slowly, but the moment it learns something it assimilates it in a lasting way.

Taurus hates change and has the gift of knowing how to handle money. They are not deflected by flattery, they insist on logic and do not disperse their interests. They are usually in excellent health. People of this sign have intense physical magnetism towards others.

Its greatest virtue is patience as well as constancy. Someone born in the sign of Taurus is very tenacious in pursuing a goal, despite being strong and rather slow, and when fate is adverse, he knows how to wait with great calmness and start again with great calmness without getting tired and without wasting time in recriminations that, for him, would be useless. Nature passionately expresses itself, more sensually than sentimentally.

They are loyal individuals with some weaknesses: they have a great sense of friendship, they would really do everything for a friend, even help him economically, even if the Taurus possesses great parsimony.

The formation of the individual is influenced by childhood and the family environment, he knows where he wants to go and does not tolerate impositions, moreover, he hates intrigue and shuns gossip. It becomes very dangerous when he realizes that he has been betrayed and exploited. However, the

Taurus does not lack defects: he has a possessive nature, laziness, and a total lack of self-criticism that leads him to a sort of presumption. The Taurus knows how to give warmth and love to those close to him, but he is equally selfish and jealous of the same people.

Those born under this sign should be taught dominating instincts and the control of arrogance. From a very young age, he will be favored in relationships with others, he wants to show himself well and often succeeds, his bonds are constant and lasting, whether they are of love or friendship. Taurus loves the so-called “good life”, so he usually surrounds himself with beauty.

His home is his temple and he loves décor; he creates a great place where he can feel relaxed and pampered. Those born under the sign of Taurus are considered to be practical and simple people, peaceful and open; they love their home, they have a great taste (aesthetic and more), they are attracted by the pleasures of life and material goods.

With strong and constant characters, they are suitable for the arts or cooking, for works in the field of aesthetics, well-being, agriculture, in any case respecting nature and its balance (great ecological sensitivity). The psychology of those born in Taurus is not as simple and serene as it may appear; on the contrary, it is complex and tormented, often involving a relationship of love, which is understood as the possession of the loved one, of deep jealousy.

The female psychology represented by Venus in her dark side is, in fact, also highly seductive and observing, a bewitching and astute manipulator. Being happy for Taurus means possessing, merging, planting roots, and relying on safe nourishment and support.

The symbolism of this spirit animal explained

Due to its virility and the might of its presence, the bull has been a cult icon for many cultures. In many ancient cultures, such as Mesopotamian, Greek, Roman, and Egyptian, it was considered a sacred animal and it was common to offer the blood of this animal as a sacrifice during sacred rites.

In Celtic symbolism, the bull represents physical strength and power. According to the Celtic beliefs, the bull was extremely virile and therefore symbolized fertility and the power of procreation, which in turn meant extending one’s life.

The druids associated the bull with solar energy, and the cow, on the other hand, with earthly energy. For the Celts, the bull was also a symbol of luxury, wealth, and prosperity: after all, it has been a source of benefit and income for these people for centuries.

Also, according to Celtic thought, it was said that the bull possessed a very important characteristic that stands out above all the rest: the fact that this animal is very stubborn and obstinate. It is also a symbol of virility for men and fertility for women.

According to the Celts, this animal would help improve the mental state in relation to sexual strength. Since the bull was a great source of food for the Celts, it is easy to understand why his figure is associated with an age of serenity and abundance.

According to a more modern perspective, the bull has several meanings related to safety and strength. Although the source is unknown, the bull is said to be a positive symbol for investment in business due to the remarkably active lifestyle it leads in its natural habitat.

Some aspects of the symbolism associated with this animal are stability, virility, strength, prosperity, security, fertility, determination, and help.

[pallastrology]

how love flows through the houses

first house - in the first house, love flows through us from the first breath. we aren’t always loved by those around us, or by ourselves, but i believe we are at our best when love is in all that we do, and all that we are. the first house rules selfhood; our identity, instincts and reactions, our outward expression. from birth, we naturally seek out attachment and love, and this need never really leaves us, simply changing shape over the years. the first house asks us to be the loving adult we needed as children. to treat ourselves with the love we deserve as humans. it asks us to be ourselves, radically and relentlessly, and not to shrink or hide ourselves from the world. it asks us to be.

second house - the second house is where we find love in our immediate surroundings. it’s how we value ourselves, how we value those around us. the security and comfort we feel in the womb, and later, when we find our true home. it’s feeling safe in our own skin, nourishing and embracing ourselves, letting down an anchor within that we can always return to when times are hard and chaos rules our lives. the love of the second house is found through seeing the inherent worth we have as human beings. it’s love that comes from enough; have enough, feel enough, good enough.

third house - in the third house, love is expressed through curiosity, communication, connections. the questioning eyes of an eager child, the first time you met your childhood best friend, staying up all night to finish a new book. it isn’t a romantic kind of love, but the love that we have for our siblings, our friends, our hometown. there’s a sense of nostalgia to it; it’s pure and sweet and a little silly at times. life can often shame and sweep this type of love away as we get older and have to conform to ever-shifting goalposts. the love of the third house comes from a deep desire to understand, and a keenness to connect with the world - and people - around us. we feel it most when we communicate honestly with ourselves and others, and allow ourselves to be beginners.

fourth house - love in the fourth house feels like sitting under a blanket while a storm blares outside. it’s safety, warmth, a soft, sleepy embrace. it’s the faultless environment of the womb. the fourth house is associated with family, and its love is unconditional, like a family’s should be. we aren’t always blessed with good relatives, but i believe we find our true families throughout life, and that they will love us truly and simply, with no airings attached. we feel the love of the fourth house when we nurture the small, soft parts of ourselves and treat them with the love they missed out on earlier; when we are with our family, whoever they may be; when we are curled up in a corner and everything is okay for now.

fifth house - in the fifth house, it’s easy to see love; it’s all about what we create, what we adore and admire, what we breathe life into. it’s a light, sparkling kind of love, that fills us with a glow and a sense of belonging. it is a love to be shared freely and enthusiastically, to show off a little. when we create a work of art, when we connect with a person for the first time, when we make someone’s day, when we hold a newborn for the first time and see how fragile and beautiful they are, we are embodying the spirit of love in the fifth house. we can honour it by showing ourselves respect, kindness, and pride, by being generous and passionate, by having firsts and by having fun along the way.

sixth house - now we plant our feet back on the ground and find ourselves in the sixth house. love here is much more subtle, but we see it through service; what we do for ourselves, our loved ones, our environment. i would say the theme is devotion, not necessarily in the religious sense, though religion is a divine kind of love in and of itself; but we devote ourselves through selfless, timeless love, and that is exactly the spirit of the sixth house. why do we tend a garden? why do we take in animals? why do we kiss a scraped knee? it all comes from love. when we dedicate ourselves to living at a kinder pace, to taking the time to breathe, to finding the ritualistic in the mundane and to creating a sustainable way of living for ourselves and our loved ones, we are full of love.

seventh house - the seventh house is all about partnership. it’s one of the houses that is almost always associated with love, because it traditionally rules our marriage partner and is ruled by venus and libra. but there’s more to love than marriage, and that’s why i like to say partnership instead. you could say that love is expressed in the seventh house through one-on-one connections; both romantically and otherwise, this is where we love the individuals we journey through life with. it’s all about that red thread that runs between you and them. there’s an intimacy and uniqueness to each relationship here, where you and they are reflected at each other. the love of the seventh house is most clearly felt in those moments when there is nothing else in the world but the two of you.

eighth house - the eighth house is another one that’s often associated with love, though of a less cerebral type than its predecessor. we generally think of the physical here, and that’s not wrong, but perhaps misses an important piece of the puzzle; the eighth house rules shared resources. our bodies are a resource when it comes to love, but really, what we are sharing is trust, vulnerability, the binding of two souls as one. when we meet in the middle with love at the forefront, we give a piece of ourselves, and receive a piece of our lover. we each become the missing piece of the other, transforming ourselves on a level we may or may not feel. love here can be murky, but it runs deep and wild.

ninth house - in the ninth house, we find a subtle, cool love. it isn’t fiery or romantic, but it is ageless and transcendent. the ninth house is all about wisdom, exploration, religion, travel. love here is best felt when we do what we love; when we are learning, growing, moving. stagnation is no good here, and the ninth house shows us we need to be challenged a little in order to become our best selves. it doesn’t mean we need to suffer, but when everything is easy, we stop learning and we stop really living. being honest, explorative, open-minded and passionate is the way to embody this patient, unorthodox kind of love.

tenth house - here, we find love through legacy. what have we built? what have we become? the fire within that helped us grow through our challenges, that helped us find our place and master it, and allowed us to build something worth keeping, is where love resides. it’s that little voice inside that urges us forward when everything is dark. it’s ambition, courage, patience and diligence. we see it in good leaders, in kind parents. love here isn’t always pretty, but it is real. it asks us to create something to leave behind, to pass our love down. it asks us to take control of our destiny and then to relinquish it to our descendants.

eleventh house - in the eleventh house, love is felt and expressed through ideas. the nurturing and sharing of ideas and ideals is what helps us build community; it’s what allows us to better the lives of who and what we love. love is fostered through collaboration, and the eleventh house, ruling friends, community and the widest of our social connections, is all about collaborative effort. i believe that the eleventh house teaches us that love isn’t always easy. it’s work, it involves a lot of slowing down and showing up, a lot of listening, it can be slow and tedious. but love is about wanting to be our best selves, and share our best with the ones we love.

twelfth house - pure, infinite, unconditional love. it's unspoken, untouched, but ever-present. it follows us from the first to the last breath, and wraps itself around us like a silken shroud as we step into the next life. we often don't feel this universal love, not consciously; it's a part of everything. do we feel the oxygen in the air we breathe? well, we feel the lack of it. but here in the twelfth house, there is no lack of love. like its ruling sign of pisces, it’s deep, far beyond our consciousness, and draws from infinite pools of unconditional, true love. we embody it by being vulnerable, kind, and finding the lyricism in the everyday.

[stellar-skyy]

DANCING IN THE MOONLIGHT - Nilou x reader

i. SUMMARY: What if Nilou had an artist for a partner? ii. CONTENT WARNINGS: None! iii. NOTES: Fluff, artist!reader, gn!reader, they/them pronouns used, 1.5k words. iv. A/N: aaah i love nilou she deserves so much love. the majority of this was written in one sitting, which is surprising cause i am a big procrastinator :')

Imagine Nilou with an artist for a partner.

She met them directly after a performance. It was hardly the start of a love story; rather a random chapter in the middle of a slice-of-life novel, something that she’d never dream would change her life. It was a few words, traded between her usual thank you’s and appreciations that she received at the end of her dances.

“Miss Nilou,” A voice called out over the swarm of people. (And it was truly a crowd that day! Nilou couldn’t remember how long it had been since so many people showed up for a performance.) “Hey—excuse me, sorry—Miss Nilou!”

“Hm?” Nilou turned, wide-eyed and overwhelmed by the people surrounding her. They were all offering her such kind words; her cheeks couldn’t turn redder if she tried.

The voice that was louder than the rest came from a figure struggling to be noticed from the outskirts. Nilou excused herself from the people trying to mob her, and smiled warmly at them. “Hello. Were you there for the show?”

“Yes, I was! It was the most amazing thing I’ve seen!” The person grinned, eyes shining. Their eyes were so pretty, Nilou could have watched them all day. “I’ve never seen anything quite like it before. It was so graceful, and elegant… like something out of a work of art.”

“I appreciate your support!” Nilou giggled, her cheeks turning pink. “If you’re interested in seeing another performance, I will be here in three days.”

“I just might have to take you up on that offer. Goodby—”

That was all she heard of the person before they were swallowed up by the crowd.

Fortunately, it was far from the last time she’d see them.

Because they came to her next performance. And the one after that, and the one that followed it. Watching her with transfixed eyes; meeting her with more excited words spilling from their lips.

Short bursts of conversation after her show turned into dinner at Puspa Cafe and nights spent walking along the Bazaar with only each other for company. There, Nilou shyly asked them about themself; their family, their work. What their dreams were, and what they did to pass the time.

"I like to draw," (Name) explained, pulling a sketchbook from their bag and flipped through the pages. The drawings within were startlingly beautiful; delicate charcoal sketches of various figures, watercolour paintings made with rich and vivid pigments, and an assortment of pencil drawings of the sights of Sumeru City.

Nilou stared with stars in her eyes. "That's—that's so amazing!"

"Oh," Their eyes went wide, a nervous laugh escaping their mouth. "I'm not that amazing. I've just been practicing a while."

"You are! You have a talent, (Name)! You have to be proud of how far you've come, and the skills you've learnt!"

"Thank you, Nilou..."

She smiled at them, sunshine radiating from the warmth in her eyes. They stared back at her, traces of embarrassment and flattery still lingering in their expression. They looked simply lovely that night, as picturesque as any one of their artworks. And once Nilou had her eyes on them, she couldn't quite bring herself to look away, not when the cool glow of the streetlights fell on them at just the right angle to make their face practically glow, so breath-taking and—

Oh.

"I think..."

"Hm?"

"I think you're my favourite person." Nilou said breathlessly. (Name)'s eyes widened, their lips parting with a tiny gasp.

"Thank you," They whispered. "You're... you're mine too."

Nilou wasn’t quite sure when they became something more than friends.

It could have been the time that they went out to the edge of the Avidya Forest for a picnic, where Nilou brought her favourite pudding and an array of tiny cakes that she made the day before, when they sat by the river for hours dipping their feet into the water, how she found herself with her head in their lap by the end of the day.

It could also have been the time when Nilou excitedly begged them to let her teach them how to dance; where they stood awkwardly in the centre of the stage as she fussed around them, gently adjusting their arms and hands, leaning over their shoulder to correct their stance, and finally showing them how to sway and glide and spin across the stage.

She didn’t really care when things changed; to her, it was only important that they had. She would cherish the memories that they gave her, inscribing their smile to her memory, feeling delightfully dizzy at the thought of their arms around her. She’d wait at the end of her performances with that shining hope that they’d be there to rush up to her and spin her around in a hug. They didn’t show up for every performance, they had a job after all. But out of all of them, the ones where they were watching were her favourite.

Nilou tried not to look at the crowd when she danced. It was easier to lose herself in the movements, letting her body take over and her mind disconnect from the onlookers before her. She would close her eyes and imagine twirling around in her dark practice room, free from eyes and free from judgement.

For once, she let that go and focused on the crowd, looking across the audience between her movements. She swept her gaze across the people, scanning for the one person she wanted to see. There were many people; mothers holding their children up to see, couples holding hands and watching in excitement, passersby who were drawn in by the performance, but Nilou didn’t stop until she saw the one outline of the figure she knew all too well by this point.

They were…

They weren’t watching.

Their head was bowed, shoulders hunched over their sketchbook. In their hand, a pencil was scribbling furiously. They didn’t bother to look up at Nilou at all.

Her breath spiked sharply, and on the next beat her hands faltered in their movement. It was a tiny mistake, but she could see Mr Zubayr’s face pinch in a miniscule frown. She quickly shut her eyes again, this time to keep the tears pricking at the corners of her eyes still.

The rest of her dance passed by in a blur. She barely noticed when the audience began their applause.

“Nilou… Nilou!” That lovely, familiar voice didn’t fill her with the same bubbly excitement that it usually did. She turned anyway, plastering a smile on her face and hoping it didn’t look too fake.

“Hello, (Name).” She greeted politely. “Did you enjoy the show?”

“Yes! I also made you something,” They pulled out the same leather-bound book they were holding in the middle of the show. Nilou felt a pang in her heart at the sight of it. “It’s somewhere around… here! I had to finish up the last details during the show, but I wanted to make sure it was perfect.”

The sketchbook was pushed into her hands, opened to a watercolour artwork of a beautiful woman. It was painted in the softest shades of blue, white, and red, with delicate brushstrokes that could only have been made by the most loving hand. The figure’s hands were poised gracefully above her head, one leg pointing to the side. Her head was tilted back and her eyes were closed, and there was a surprising tenderness to how her face was drawn, to show a peaceful—and undoubtedly beautiful expression.

The most surprising part though, was it was most definitely a picture of her.

It couldn’t have been made in one performance, so how long have they been working on the piece to have such detail? Nilou imagined them during the show, hunched over the sketchbook, finishing the last little details of the drawing. She thought of them looking up to see her eyes closed, expression holding the dim traces of heartbreak, looking down between the serene face in the drawing and wondering what could be wrong.

“Do you… like it?” They said nervously. Nilou looked up with a radiating smile.

“Oh, (Name),” Nilou squealed, breathless with relief. “I love it, I love it!”

“I’m glad,” (Name) breathed out.

“Thank you,” Nilou murmured. Her eyes closed slowly, the fear that she felt earlier melting down into contentment. A hand cupped her face, thumb rubbing slowly along her cheek.

“Nilou?” (Name) said softly. “Are you crying?”

Her cheeks were wet. How did she not notice before. “I—I guess I am.”

“Why? Did I do something?”

“No, it’s just—” Nilou swallowed. “I looked at you when you were in the audience. You weren’t looking. I thought… you didn’t like my dancing.”

As she spoke the words, they sounded pathetic even to her own ears. (Name)’s expression crumpled, and they used their thumb to wipe away the tears falling from her eyes. “Don’t worry,” (Name) whispered, pressing a delicate kiss to Nilou’s forehead. “I absolutely loved it.”

reblogs and comments are appreciated! ♡

[loveemagicpeace]

🧼Ceres in Houses🧼

🛁Ceres is known as the Great Mother. Associated with the signs Cancer, Virgo, and Taurus. Ceres represents how we nurture and how we meet our own needs as shown by the sign Ceres is in. The house placement shows what type of experiences will help you promote feelings of self-love and self-acceptance.🧴🧸

👫Ceres in 1st house feels heightened self-worth when accomplishing personal goals and when helping others be responsible for themselves. The desire to take care of others is especially strong. You need to nurture your confidence in yourself so that you can be more assertive. You may need extra nurturing and encouragement to come into full appreciation of your beauty and strengths as an individual.

🥭🍸Ceres in 2nd house you will find your needs through food, music, material things and self-worth. You are confident about your skills and always seem to know exactly what others need in order to feel secure and solid. If you don't have enough food to eat or a comfortable atmosphere around you, you won't be able to tend to your deeper needs. No matter what challenges you face, you'll feel confident and secure if your bank account is solid and the fridge is full.

⚡️Ceres in 3rd house you will find your needs through through talking, siblings, short trips, phones. Your desire to nurture others is highly intellectual. You may nurture others by teaching or volunteering. You may also have a gift for nurturing others through your inspiring communication style.

🌼Ceres in 4th house you will find your needs through family, home, security, familiar things. You can be very private about your deeper needs. You know how to make others feel at home. You can feel accepted through people who give you a feeling of home and warmth.

🍒Ceres in 5th house you will find your needs through your joy, creativity,energy, love. You seek nurturing through your creative interests and connection with children. You are likely to be very caring and compassionate toward young people. You may be prone to seeking affirmation and validation through romantic affairs.

🧴Ceres in 6th house you will find your needs through your health, healing others, helping others, pets, work, rutine, style of living. You can find your love through serving others. You are detail oriented. You are able to express your caring and compassionate nature through daily acts of kindness.

💞Ceres in 7th house you will find your needs through relationship with others , law, marriage. Your nurturing style leads you to balance your needs with the needs of others. You always seek fairness and balance and won't feel comfortable unless the vulnerable around you are cared for. You are also nurtured by artistic and beautiful surroundings, art and music.

🦋Ceres in 8th house you will find your needs through depth, emotions, deep connections, power, secrets, transformation. You nurture others in an intense way that can border on obsessive. You also have an instinctive, intuitive sense of what others need. You are drawn to those who need deep, regenerative healing. You nurture others based on your own experiences of hardship or loss. You can help others find strength.

✈️Ceres in 9th house you will find your needs through travel, wisdom, learning, faith, spirtuality, meaning, strong opinions and beliefs. You try to expand your mind and make meaning out of difficult situations. If you can find purpose and greater meaning you'll feel more fulfilled. You may also change your beliefs in order to find deeper meaning over time. You can help others find meaning and a new perspective.

📀Ceres in 10th house you seek nurturing through achievement and career success. You may turn to work when you're feeling stressed. You may find more comfort and soothing from staying busy than from actually trying to relax. When you care about others you seek nurturing for yourself and them through creating stability and security.

💚Ceres in 11th house you will find your needs through friends, dreams, organizations. You find purpose and meaning in organized efforts to create positive social change. You can also help people by being humanitarian. You tend to be nurtured by the energy of the group. There are also times you find nurturing and comfort being alone and investing in your creative hobbies.

🫧Ceres in 12th house you will find your needs through spirituality, dreams, illusion. You need to nurture your deep sense of intuition and compassion for others. Your sensitivity can be so strong that you avoid facing your deeper feelings and emotions. You may seek nurturing by delving into the arts, spirituality. You may seek nurturing through distractions before recalling your deeper spiritual connection.

-Rebekah🍒🍓💕

[ask-the-royal-absol]

*It took a few moments for Destino to get used to the feeling of the ground underneath their paws. Although they had a rocky flooring in the Underdark, it didn’t quite have the same texture as this. For one, it wasn’t as smooth. Destino found the ground here to be a slight bit painful, with all the tiny rocks and small protrusions coming from it. However, the was a faint, pleasant warmth that radiated from the ground, which Destino certainly could get used to.

The Absol took a proper look around at their surroundings just to get an idea of where about a they were heading to. They caught sight of the large rock structure that rose above what appeared to be a living space for Pokémon. Tiny houses circled the protrusion and it seemed there was a wide space around it which contained some greenery. Hope noticed Destino’s staring and stood next to them, indicating this was their destination.*

*Turning around, they could see a small area to the left of the tunnel which they had come from which had a small, wooden hut. Small orange flower decorations had been painted around the bottom of the square hut and there appeared to be no windows to peer inside of it. This must be the one Hope had mentioned. They hoped it was at least semi-decent inside because the size was less than ideal. Perhaps they should have brought all of their belongings. It probably would have made their stay here more tolerable. They strutted over to the hut.*

*Destino stopped before entering.*

Destino: Prime. My address is Prime. Not Prince. Not Princess. Prime. Prime Destino. Is it really that hard to get right? Come on buddy, get with it. Do I have to spell it out for you so you can get it into your thick skull? Or perhaps I need to sit you down and force you to recite my title until you get it right. I’m not heading anywhere until I get my beauty sleep. I’m hoping this one is not interrupted by my prophecy dreams. As I’ve said, the eye-bags are not something I’m fond of.

*With the door now open, Destino strolled inside of the hut. The first thing they noticed was the light source inside of it. A small, orange flame hovered in the air above everything. However, it wasn’t as bright as the outside light. Destino pondered on how the flame hung in the air without any support. It wasn’t attached to anything. It wasn’t something Destino could explain. They took off their sunglasses, prompting their ghostly friend to pop out of them. The sunglasses were tucked neatly into their fur. Felix gave a stretch before looking around the small space.*

Destino: Felix. I have very high standards. These standards need to be met. With a bed like that, I’m sure it’ll feel just like sleeping on the floor. Do you understand what this will do to my back? I wouldn’t be surprised if I couldn’t walk when I’ve finished my nap. Then you’ll have to carry me.

Felix: Destino. Perhaps ya should just be grateful ya gettin’ somewhere ta sleep. It’s only for a short bit. Ya can survive. Besides, ya know what this reminds me of?

Destino: No. What?

Felix: That cabin we stayed in durin’ that school trip.

Destino: Oh yes, the one where you were on top bunk and got yourself stuck and had to ask my help to get you out.

Felix: Heh, yeah. It wouldn’t happen anymore.

Destino: Of course not. Wasn’t that the trip where Sketch drew a massive mural of the teachers across several trees?

Felix: I think ya right on that one too. It was really somethin’.

Destino: It was fine. I’m could probably do better.

Felix: Pal, no offence but ya ain’t great at the whole art thing. Ya gotta recognise that Sketch has a talent for it. Have ya seen him recently?

Destino: No. Been busy with my royal duties and all. Though he did make that painting of my family and I that is hung up. I wouldn’t admit it to him but he may or may not have done a pretty good job capturing my likeness. Of course it can’t compare to the real thing.

Felix: That does seem like his work. Anyways, back onto what I was about ta say. Just imagine this hut like the school trip cabin. Sure, it’s not got everything ya need but ya have slept in a place like it before. Besides, I’m here as well if ya need anythin’.

Destino: I suppose you’re right. Thank you, Felix, for coming along as well. I’m great and all and I’m sure I’m going to be the world’s best chosen one but it’s nice to have a piece of home here with me, you know?

*As much as Destino was overly confident about their abilities, they knew they wouldn’t be able to survive on this trip without their best friend. They may not have said it much but Destino did appreciate Felix for everything he did. Felix had been there when they were almost killed by Mistress Mirage. He saved them from drowning in the aquifer that one time. Felix wasn’t afraid to call them out when they had crossed the line. So many moment where Destino would have been screwed if Felix wasn’t there for them. And now this? Coming to a new land with them and being by their side as they had to find some way to save the world from who knows what. It did make Destino wonder how Felix got the time off from his job to come on this surface excursion with them. They’d have to ask about it later.

It made Destino think back to all of the other friends they had had. Many of them had ended their friendships with Destino. Then again, those Pokémon weren’t good enough for the absol or just wanted to be friends with them for the privilege of being close with royalty. Destino didn’t actually have anyone else besides Felix. It was strange to think about.*

Felix: I figured ya would need someone. I also know that you and Hope would probably kill each other if I wasn’t here.

Destino: And it would be easy too.

Felix: Of course it would be. I should probably leave ya to nappin’.

Destino: What are you going to do?

Felix: I’m probably gonna speak with Hope. Get some more info on what’s gonna happen.

Destino: Of course. Gather intel on the enemy. That’s why I like you Felix. You’re always wanting to do things to benefit me. Fair enough, I shall leave you to it but I don’t want you both to be talking about me this time, got it?

Felix: Ha, alright.

*Felix has left to speak with Hope. Destino is available for 5 asks before they prepare for a nap and Felix and Hope are available for asks together.*

@thepersonaking56

[that-one-random-writer]

Chasing You Chapter 5 {Complete}

Summary: Jake retires from the military honorably. He steps into a new roll, ready to settle down in his hometown of Texas. He is placed on your shift. Your current relationship is stable until the dust settles, revealing cracks in the foundation.

Warnings: Cursing, violence, police experiences based on truth, accurate on most accounts of law enforcement, it might get gory at times. Be aware of blood, drugs, and all things law enforcement. Smut eventually. A/N may have my true experience attached if you're interested. All real names redacted.

Chapter 1. Next Chapter. Masterlist

Jake unlocked his front door to his not so humble ranch home. Outside was a white stone with walnut accent wood. He held the door open for you. The inside had a gorgeous similar color scheme.

"The military pays well." He watched as your eyes glimmered around his home. The fireplace was lit in the middle of the living room. Welcoming you in with the cozy warmth.

"I can tell..." You trailed looking around at the bull skull at the back wall made of floor-length windows and glass french doors. You stepped through the house. Your nerves were pressing, not wanting to get a speck of dirt anywhere. This home is so foreign and yet comforting. Butterflies colliding in your stomach as you look out the back windows seeing the sun just over tree line following its trail slowly to the top of the sky. It was a beautiful sunrise, almost like art on his entire wall.

"Your bedroom is this way." He started up the staircase. You followed him up to the hallway. He flicked a switch, lighting a chandelier above the vaulted ceiling. "If you need a shower, your bathroom is through that door. It has a jetted tub, too. Towels are in the left cabinet, I figure you might need to relax after last night." He leaned against the doorway with his hands in his pocket. "My room is across the hall if you need me. Do you need anything now?" You sat your bag next to the bed.

You turned back to Seresin, still in awe at the stunning home. "Um... no, I think I have it from here."

He nodded with the sweetest smile. "Hollar if you need me."

He stood up, turning to the walk away. "Hey... Jake." You called back pausing, looking up as he turned back to you. "Thank you." You returned his smile.

"Of course, it's what friends are for. You can stay as long as you'd like." He walked away, leaving you to get ready for bed.

You walked around the room. You grabbed your bag and pulled out your pajamas. You started the water, grabbing all the prep for a relaxing bath. Your clothes fell to the floor. The warm water engulfed every nerve, caressing you in warmth and safety. Your limbs released all tension as the jets pulsed into your muscles.

"We are not talking about this right now." Seresin spoke through gritted teeth. "No, you're not coming over here. I just got off work." He tried to keep his voice down, knowing you were just across the hall. You didn't need any more stress or worry surrounding you.

"Jake, son, please. I don't have anywhere to go." Jake scoffed. "Why don't you go back to that skanks house? I dont think you can do any more damage to the family, so it won't make anything worse." He yelled through the phone, finally losing it with his father. His mask of perfection slipped into anger as he hung up the phone and held his head in his hands.

He breathed in and laid on his bed. He took off his shirt, laying it on the chair. He slipped into a pair of gray sweatpants and laid on his bed. He peered out the hallway. He could see your room still open. The only saving grace for your ears was a door and a room of running water.

The entire room enveloped in humidity laced with the sweet scent of your body wash. You got out of the bath and dried off with the plush towel. You wrapped your hair in a smaller towel and got dressed in your sleepwear. You looked in the mirror with a sense of belonging. The way the wall colors played off your skin, the window shining light against your outfit, created a perfect hue dancing back in the reflection it felt right.

You opened the door, walking to the bed. You looked out into the hall seeing Jake's door open. You saw his back cascading over the bed. The light contrasted the beds white color from his tanned skin. His arms were folded over the pillow, showing off all the workouts he'd done. You closed the door to give yourself some privacy. You laid in the bed and dozed to sleep quickly. Your mind was too exhausted to give you torturous thoughts.

Your eyes lifted. Aromas of bacon stirred around the room. You looked around, remembering where you were. The sun was no longer at your window. It had passed along in the sky.

You got up going downstairs. You followed the scent into the kitchen, once again, seeing his bare back. He stood in front of the stove. "Good morning..." You spoke over the music that was trailing to the next song. "Good morning." He called back. Trumpets started vibrating around you. Michael Bublé's voice mixed with Seresins.

"Sway?" You stepped closer. The wooden spatula tapped against the stainless steel pan.

Seresin chuckled, laying the spatula down in the drip pan. He turned his body towards you, still checking the bubbling mixture on the stove. His brawny chest was wide and buff. His shoulders seemed even bigger from the front. You quickly glanced back up to his eyes. Not wanting him to see your eyes watching his movement.

He looked towards you. He stepped closer to you, grabbing your hand and spinning you around. Your eyes lifted in a grin. "Yeah, sway." He turned around back to the stove. "I made your favorite biscuits and gravy. It's my mom's recipe." He grabbed two plates. Setting them on the counter.

"Seresin," you warned in your tone. "I told you I'm not going to sleep with you. No matter how ripped you are or how much you cook for me. I'm in a..."

"Relationship. I know. I'm not trying to sleep with you. This is payback for the dinner you paid for."

"Thank you, sorry. It's just that I don't meet many men like Kennedy who dont just do things without a motive." You grabbed the plate he made and sat down at the table next to the window. The sun glosses under the treeline, painting a pink sunset in the opposite windows from this mornings orange color.

"It's okay, just have a little faith. I'm a better man than that." Seresin sat at the table in front of you. He took a bite. "It will never be as good as mama's. You know?" The ease being around him was so refreshing.

"Yeah, this is really good, but I get it. My mom makes the best chicken pot pie. I've tried, but it doesn't come close. We are having it in a few weeks at our next dinner. Do you want to come? It wouldn't be an issue. Mama said you were invited after Nessie stopped by...." Your voice dropped slightly. "James doesn't ever go." Just mentioning his name made your heart drop. You looked at the gorgeous man in front of you. His body left nothing to the imagination from the waist up. Disgust crossed your mind at no one but yourself. You were sitting eating breakfast with a half-naked man. Inviting him to eat with your family and their significant others. You, a taken woman.

"If you want me to go, then I'll be there, but that's up to you."

You recovered over the disgust, masking over it quickly. "Yeah, I would like you to go. It's nothing Kennedy has been. It's no issue." But you've never sat ogling over Kennedy's naked body. Appreciating a man for his body was one thing, but having breakfast in their home in front of them thinking of how their body would feel pressed to yours is another. You did feel a smidge of guilt but tried to convince yourself there was nothing wrong with this picture.

"Then I'll go. Just let me know when." Jake smiled then glanced over at his buzzing phone. He groaned seeing the caller ID.

"Do you need to take that?" You kept your eyes from his business chewing your food instead.

"Nope." He popped the P. Silencing the phone.

"Is everything okay?" You chewed slowly.

"No, but it will be in a few years and after some awkward holidays." Seresin put his phone back down as it vibrated again.

You looked up quizzically. "Do you want to talk about it?"

"Not really my business to tell. It's just some mess my dad created. He wants me to fix it and I'm not going to." He chewed another bite.

"Must be some mess..." you trailed. "This is really good Seresin. It's almost as good as my mama's. You didn't tell me you could cook."

"Well now you know. I might bring you a dinner one night." Seresin sat his fork down finishing his food.

You grabbed his plate and walked to the sink. You washed them off and bent over to the dishwasher putting them into the empty slots.

Jake would never admit his eyes lingered on your body. Just looking at a taken woman wouldn't hurt. Seresin's eyes glanced calmly at his phone when you started turning back, not being caught looking at you. "Did you sleep good with no screaming?"

"Yes. That bed feels like a cloud. I could sleep there forever." He stood up, leading you to the back door. You just followed blindly in conversation.

[sailorgoon13]

Evelyn Ashthorn

Basics:

Full Name: Evelyn Ashthorn

Nickname: Eve

Gender: Female

Date of Birth: 5 October, 1980

Heritage: English

Blood Status: Pure-Blood

Wand: Ebony, Dragon Heartstring, 11inches, Slightly Spingy

Appearance:

Hair Color: Bright red

Eye Color: Deep brown

Skin Tone: Fair

Height: 5'7"

Body Type: Slender and graceful, long limbs and a lithe frame

Style: Luxurious, bold, and effortlessly chic

Features: Dimpled smile, full/ plump lips, long lashes

Personality:

Traits: Independent, Ambitious, Witty, Resourceful

Likes: Fashion, Luxury, Socializing, Power, Red Lipstick

Dislikes: The Golden Trio, Arrogance, Mediocrity

Hobbies: Shopping, Chess, Wizarding Fashion Design

Fears: Her mother, Abandonment, Being Ordinary, Rejection

Family and Friends:

Father: Octavius Ashthorn

Pure Blood

English

Collector of rare and valuable magical artifacts

Long time friend of Lucius Malfoy

A Death Eater

Mother: Selene Ashthorn

Pure Blood

English

Potioneer

Supporter of Voldemort

Friends: Blaise Zabini, Theo Nott, Draco Malfoy, Mattheo Riddle

Magic:

Boggart: Her mother

Patronus: Unicorn

Polyjuice: Deep emerald green, bitter with a hint of sweetness and would be smooth/ velvety.

Amortentia: A shimmering emerald green with flecks of gold, smells like a forest after rainfall, with undertones of jasmine and cinnamon

Backstory:

Evelyn Ashthorn was born into a world of privilege and prestige, the only daughter of Octavius and Selene Ashthorn, two prominent members of the wizarding elite. From a young age, Evelyn was groomed for success, raised in the opulent surroundings of the Ashthorn Manor and schooled in the ways of high society.

Despite her privileged upbringing, Evelyn's childhood was far from idyllic. Her father, Octavius, was a powerful and influential figure in the wizarding world, but his cold and distant demeanor left little room for warmth or affection. He had once been a follower of Voldemort, and though he had long since renounced his allegiance to the Dark Lord, the shadows of his past still lingered over the Ashthorn family.

Evelyn's mother, Selene, was a renowned potioneer, admired for her skill and expertise in the magical arts. But behind closed doors, she was a cruel and abusive figure, prone to fits of rage and manipulation. Selene resented Evelyn for reasons unknown, seeing her daughter as nothing more than a reminder of the life she had been forced to leave behind.

Despite the turmoil within her own family, Evelyn excelled at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, where she was sorted into Slytherin House, following in the footsteps of her ancestors. She quickly established herself as a formidable presence within the school, admired for her beauty, wit, and charm.

But beneath her confident exterior, Evelyn carried the scars of her upbringing, haunted by the echoes of her father's dark past and her mother's cruelty. She sought solace in the company of her friends and the pursuit of academic excellence, but the shadows of her past loomed ever-present, threatening to consume her at every turn.

As she navigated the corridors of Hogwarts, Evelyn was torn between the expectations of her family and the desires of her own heart. She longed for acceptance and belonging, but the path to redemption seemed fraught with peril, and the ghosts of her past refused to be silenced.

Academics:

Best Subject: Potions

Favorite Subject: Charms

Favorite Professor: Snape

Worst Subject: Herbology

Least Favorite Subject: Care for Creatures

Least Favorite Professor: Trelawney

Student Life:

Was known for skipping classes so she doesn't get dirty

Loved to party and hang out with her friends

Not the nicest, especially to other girls

Always passed her tests despite hardly ever being in class for paying others to tutor her

Career:

Despite her privileged upbringing, Evelyn felt a sense of duty to give back to the wizarding community and support causes she cares about. She works for charitable organizations and foundations, using her resources and influence to make a positive impact on issues such as magical creature rights, education, or social justice.

She also incorporates her fashion sense into the Wizarding World, designing clothing lines enchanted with magical properties in her non charitable hours.

(WIP: Soon to be published)

Face claim/ Fan Cast: Madelaine Petsch

[harmoniasvineyard]

Harmonia Fiorella Rossi

Side Blog, will follow back from @deepseawarlock

exploring:

Resilience and Transformation

Cultural Unity and Diversity

Oppression and Freedom

Community and Connection

Wisdom and Insight

Nature and Nurturing

activity: limited accepting: friendships, mentorships

Biography (under cut)

Born in a small village in Genoa, Italy, Harmonia grew up in a loving family, surrounded by the warmth of tradition and community. From a young age, she possessed a natural talent for knitting, a skill she learned from her grandmother. The rhythmic click of the needles became a soothing soundtrack to her life.

As Harmonia matured, she developed a deep appreciation for the arts and culture of her country, particularly its classical music and literature. Her passion for knowledge led her to study literature at a prestigious university in Rome, where she delved into the works of great Italian writers and philosophers. It was during this time that she developed a love for poetry, finding inspiration in the words of Dante, Petrarch, and Leopardi.

In her early twenties, Harmonia met Dimitri, a charming Russian exchange student. Their connection was immediate, and their shared love for the arts and intellectual pursuits brought them even closer. They married in a small, intimate ceremony, blending their Italian and Russian traditions into a beautiful celebration of love and cultural unity.

However, their joy was short-lived. Unbeknownst to Harmonia, Dimitri harbored hidden ambitions of power. He became entangled in radical political movements and, over time, transformed into a dictator. As his rule grew increasingly oppressive, Harmonia witnessed the suffering of her fellow citizens and felt a deep responsibility to take action.

With a heavy heart, Harmonia made the difficult decision to flee her beloved Genoa, leaving behind her family, friends, and the life she had known. She sought refuge in a small seaside town, where she found solace in the crashing waves and the serenity of a cottage nestled among the colorful houses.

Knitting had become Harmonia's sanctuary, a way to process her emotions and channel her creativity. She spent countless hours in her cottage, surrounded by skeins of yarn and the gentle click of her needles. As she honed her craft, her skill attracted the attention of other women in the community, and the "Tight Knit Gang" was born. This group of spirited old ladies, each with their own stories and wisdom, gathered regularly at Harmonia's cottage to knit, share laughter, and support one another.

Despite the challenges she faced, Harmonia never lost her compassion or her thirst for knowledge from those university days. She continued to devour books, expanding her understanding of the world and nurturing her own inner growth. She became a revered figure in her seaside town, sought after for her sage advice and insightful perspectives.

To complement her knitting, Harmonia cultivated a small vineyard in her backyard, where she lovingly tended to grapevines. She found joy in the process of nurturing life, watching the vines flourish and bearing fruit in due time. Each time she snacks on the grapes, she's reminded in how beauty can emerge from adversity- a true symbol of resilience and transformation.

As the years passed, Harmonia's cottage became a sanctuary not only for herself but for others too. She welcomed all sorts of people- from travelers, artists, to those in need of guidance, offering her home as a haven for reflection. Her stories, woven with threads of pain, hope, and resilience, tended to resonate deeply with those who had the privilege of listening.

[kykyonthemoon]

Two by the fire

— Paring: Diluc x Jean (Jealuc)

— Tags: short, soft angst, soft fluff, hurt/ comfort

— Summary: Diluc found Jean, wounded and faint after her quest on Dragonspine.

— Word count: 1641

— Requested by @jessiemai99 (please check out her art too :> )

-----------------------------------------------

— Masterlist

— Ao3

— Hoyolab

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The strong wind could not stop the girl's but it made the wounds on her body sting. Jean tugged back on her jacket, rolling her eyes and glancing around. The Warming Seelie she had been hunting had vanished without a trace, save for a frail trail of warmth that had left before being carried away by the wind.

Jean had run out of spare medication after the last challenging battle with the Abyss Herald troop. She had to acknowledge that she had underestimated the opponents so she went alone, partly because she did not want the Knights to be fighting outside the city during their holiday. Jean had the tendency of doing all the work by herself. These little tasks she could handle on her own, and she did so with just minor scratches.

She thought to herself, I am  the Acting Grand Master of the Knights of Favonius. I'm strong, and I'll get through this cold and my injuries. Everything will be alright after that. With a proud look on my face, I shall return to Mondstadt. Don't let anyone be concerned about me…

But with each stride, Jean's eyelids and entire body became heavier than ever. The sight in front of her became blurry. Then she collapsed onto the cold, rigid icy ground.

Each bitter breeze passed, followed by a flare of sparks that enveloped Jean in warmth and comfort. She felt her mother's hand gently stroke her hair, and a lullaby poured out of the corner of her lips. Then she found herself at supper with her father; the entire family gathered around the little table, with the fragrant dishes still emitting smoke. There were, too, Barbara and their flower garden. Her little sister placed on her lap a crown made of flowers... It was all beautiful, and warm. But that warmth gradually faded away as the darkness drew back, once again engulfing her in nightmares as everything she loved was destroyed.

“Barbara… Klee… Lisa… Please don’t…”

Jean blinked her eyes wide. The brightness from the fire in front of her caused her eyes to narrow. The surroundings remained black, except for her and another person who were being caressed by the warm glow. She was no longer cold, and there was a scarlet coat with a recognizable style and scent on her body.

At this time, Jean turned to look at the person next to her. His crimson hair hid part of his face. He was still sleeping on the straw that served as backrest for the two of them. Jean immediately realized who it was, and was startled that he was there, with her. With her powerful and abrupt movement, she accidentally awakened him.

"Senpai…"

Jean was puzzled. He had just fallen asleep close to her. It was his coat she was wearing. This was a similar situation to ones in the romantic stories Jean enjoyed reading, in secret. It was hard for her to keep a calm face like usual. She was struggling to figure out what to do next when the other woke up.

"Jean..." Diluc called her name, apparently still not fully awake. But he hurriedly sat up and pulled away a bit after seeing the perplexity in her eyes. "How do you feel?"

"I'm all right..." Jean responded, despite the fact that she was not. Her heart was about to explode. 

"Well... My apologies for taking you here without your will. I could not transport you back to Mondstadt due to the blizzard."

Jean took a glance outside the cave where they were sheltering. The snow was still falling, and with the sound of wind she shivered. She began to recall something while she was half-awake. When she fell, she remembered to be picked up by someone and taken away.

"Did you find me, senpai?" Jean asked.

Diluc's nod validated what she had said. Jean noticed that her wounds were neatly bandaged. She raised her eyes to Diluc. He returned that contact for a brief moment before turning away.

"I'm sorry if I caused senpai any problems."

Jean spoke gently. It had been a long time since she remembered what it was like to be cared for. Since she became the "Dandelion Knight".

"You haven't changed at all, have you?"

Diluc's reply caused Jean to waver. He went on to say:

"You've always been the one who carries everything on your shoulders. You take care of everyone in Mondstadt, except yourself."

"I…"

Jean was speechless. Red flame. Diluc and she sat side by side. The scene was all too familiar. It sent her back somewhere in the past, when the younger version of themselves were sitting by the same fire.

"A knight must first learn to care for herself before she can protect others."

So Diluc said, after seeing Jean's hand bleed during sword practice. He helped her patch her wounds, and so every afternoon, she went to the training ground to practice with him.

Then, it was by the cold winter fire that she couldn't make Diluc stay in the Knights of Favonius.

"I've practiced a lot. I've improved so much. I have the strength to defend Mondstadt now... And I'll do everything I can to help senpai..."

Diluc only stared at her with hollow eyes. As cold as ice.

"You can't do everything, Jean. You have the ability to protect Mondstadt and the Knights. As for me, I'm no longer going to be a part of it."

Diluc turned and walked away, leaving Jean with mixed emotions and unresolved feelings. Their paths had turned in two different directions since that day. 

If given a second choice, Jean would still choose Mondstadt, the Knights, and the task she was born to perform.

While Diluc had always claimed that his route was distinct from the Knights', their efforts were all about the same thing: safeguarding their homeland. The Knights were like the light, while Diluc lurked in the shadows, quietly assisting them under a different guise. Jean quickly realized what he was up to, and she quietly thanked him with all her heart.

Back by the firelight where Dragonspine was ever chilly, Jean sat crouched and rested her chin on her knees. Diluc had the Vision of fire, radiant, warming her as before. Many times she wondered, if she could make him stay that day, he would still be her senpai in the Knights. And what if their relationship would be different now? Was there any chance for her... When Jean looked to the side, she spotted Diluc's worried gaze on her.

"You don't need to apologize to me." He stated. "No need to think that you owe me this time. I just happened to be passing by the place and helping an old friend. That's all."

An old friend...

The words kept echoing in Jean's mind. As cold as the day he left.But she said nothing and merely nodded in silence. Unbeknownst to her, Diluc lied.

He did not have anything to do at Dragonspine at all. It was only because of Kaeya's sneer at the conversation that he learned about Jean being away to the snowy mountain on a mission alone. He was sure that Kaeya had intentionally let him hear that, and constantly emphasized how risky this mission was. Without hesitation, Diluc rushed to find Jean. Upon arrival, the Abyss Herald troop was already defeated by her. He traced the trail she left in the pristine snow and found she had just fainted. He was worried that something terrible might happen. Fortunately, he sought a nearby shelter.

Jean's nearly frozen and wounded body stiffened. Diluc kindled the fire and then handed her his coat. But that was not enough. He used his Vision to warm her up. He let her rest on his shoulder as he wrapped his arms around her. At that moment, he did not think much, nor was he shy, all he wanted was for her to wake up. Then he, himself, fell into slumber as well.

When he woke up to find Jean very close, Diluc suddenly felt embarrassed. But most of all, he was glad that she was at ease. Jean sneezed suddenly, her body trembling slightly at the cold wind that had just swept through. Diluc leaned forward instantly, his hands clutching his coat and tugging it closer to her. Their breaths intertwined forming a thin puff of smoke. Jean blushed.

"I'm alright, senpai..."

The sight reminded Jean of any fiction she'd ever read. The male and female characters sat side by side by the firelight, so close that they could feel each other's breath. They then would confirm their affection by giving each other a warm kiss... Just thinking about it made Jean's face redder than the setting sun.

Diluc seemed to sense something too. He remained in place and looked into Jean's eyes for a long time. This moment could last forever, if she could hold on without sneezing again.

"Oh..."

Jean silently blamed herself for ruining the beautiful moment just now. Diluc merely smiled slightly and leaned back against the straw.

"You should rest a little more. When this storm passes, I'll take you back to the city."

Jean nodded and took a seat next to Diluc. After a time, he said softly:

"I know you do not seek my assistance. But maybe at some point, I'll be happy to share the burdens with you, if you let me…"

Perhaps Diluc did not want to make things worse, so he left it hanging. In the past, he himself had rejected Jean when she offered her help. Now he was expecting her to reach out to him when she was in trouble. Was he being selfish?

Jean's eyes flickered slightly. Her cheeks and nose were all bright red. She nodded and replied softly:

"Of course. Thank you, senpai."

-The End-