#she deserves to be happy and drowned in affection!! | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

violet-eng · 8 days

Text

Fem!reader married to a Neuvillette who loves not her but someone else | NSFW 🔞 + 😢

In this one I'm going out on a limb, because I presume without any argument other than my own intuition, that Neuvillette and Focalors had a platonic relationship with feelings never confessed out of fear or genuine ignorance of them (like Violet Evergarden, yes). But you are Neuvillette's wife and so you will fall victim to his coldness when Focalors dies.

Includes NSFW with the reader and angst. Never mistreatment because Neuvi is a gentleman. NOTHING BETWEEN FOCALORS/FURINA AND NEUVI NONONO

⚠️ Warnings: established relationship between Neuvillette and reader, implied cheating, unloving and unprotected sex, pregnancy, sex during pregnancy, mentions of masturbation. Mentions of death. More sex between spouses bc yes.

mndi, if you feel unconfortable reading this then don't. Your mental health is first.

6k words, not edited.

💧💧💧💧💙💙💙💙💙💙💙🔹️🔹️🔹️🔹️🔹️💧💧💧💧💧💙💙💙💙🔹️🔹️🔹️

You had seen him crestfallen the last few weeks, after the flood, self-conscious in his own thoughts, drowning in his remorse and cowardice.

Neuvillette does not understand human feelings, not at all, though love is supposed to be a passion that transcends the natural laws of evolution. Focalors had been his friend, his companion, in the bruised body of a puppet that felt so real that its strings seemed invisible.

There was no denying the deep affection that had grown between the two, Neuvillette and Focalors, two wandering souls, roaming the world with ancestral antiquity, companions destined to the sound of agony and separation, haunted by the solemn ignorance of innocent creatures.

Love… what was it but a word in a spoken contract.

Neuvillette had married you months ago, a happy and superficially authentic marriage. You had captured his attention, and his knowledge of humans, as the Great Chief Justice, could be satiated by knowing you, a faithful human companion, devoted wife, and sublime lover.

The bed was the only moment where you two connected, where, to the rhythm of the waves, Neuvillette penetrated his marital responsibility towards your depths, that which he considered appropriate towards his so-called wife, who, in a frenzy of pleasure, crushed his pale back with her nails, set to music by the melodious moans he tore from your sweaty breast… There was no connection beyond the sexual, for as a dragon, despite the years, it is very difficult for him to connect with humans.

Focalors was an oceanid, and he was a dragon sovereign. Both turned human. Nothing more to add, two rulers abandoned by the world they were supposed to protect, what would grow between them but pure trust and admiration that would obviously develop into love?

Neuvillette didn't understand. Not until that moment. He had been deaf to his innocent heart pounding anxiously every time Focalors entered his office in her unruly human form, rampant in color and expression. He had been unaware of the flame of satisfaction in his chest that burned hot when she spoke to him in the privacy of their conversations in the theater…he did not understand, not until he understood that he would eventually lose her.

He cried, for the first time he let someone see him cry in his human form. Focalor's words, so exquisite before him, ethereal in her ornate louvered dress, echoed in his head…and in his heart… ….

"Hydrodragon, Hydrodragon… don't cry," she whispered… and he, very reluctant to leave her, wished with all his might to leap upon her, wrap her in his arms and never let her go. He would flee with her on his lap, in his draconic form, leaving Fontaine and everyone else to their fate.

No… a Sovereign would not do that… he would not do that… for to abandon his oath would deserve the most dastardly punishment of all. And maybe, just for thinking that, he deserved what happened next.

"Farewell, Neuvillette," her words, pure in his human form. His companion, his friend, his mentor… his soul mate, tossed away like the foam on the shore of a beach.

Death was a human concept, without transcendence over evolution… love, however, was another story.

He came home like a soldier after the war, he came back without a part of himself… he came back to his boring life married to a woman he doesn't even love, at least not the way you really deserve him.

"Darling," you offer him a glass of fresh spring water from Quiaoying Village, because you know he doesn't like anything else, especially in dark times like these, a glass of the freshest, coldest water suits him wonderfully.

He drinks from the glass, almost as stoic as ever, though his face is stiffer than usual. Routine is becoming overwhelming for both of you, and Neuvillette is suspiciously distant from you, more so than usual. You stroke his cheek while he sleeps to help him fall asleep, you make him breakfast in the mornings and serve him dinner when he comes home, all without so much as a hello.

You suspect the worst, because your friends have planted the idea in your head that Neuvillette has a mistress, and not far from the truth, his heart belongs to another.

After the flood, many had left Fontaine, and perhaps your husband's mistress was among them, or so you thought. How painful it had been for you to see him break for another woman, to see him crack at his most human for a heart that was not yours.

Overwhelmed, you write him a letter with the idea of leaving him and traveling to Sumeru with one of your friends in search of a new life, but everything is cut short when your symptoms begin. Pregnancy was imminent, after all the nights the Iudex had taken you into your bed, it was to be expected.

You receive Neuvillette that night, frustrated by your own doubts, debating between informing him of your condition or simply fleeing to new horizons with your child. It is so difficult to decide when your husband is the Iudex of Fontaine… and when you care about his reputation because you love him sincerely.

There is no need to search for words when your husband is a dragon with keen senses, for as soon as he set foot in the house, he sensed the scent of his brood stirring within you. The Iudex's interest, however, lay in whether or not you would confess to him.

"A package arrived for you this afternoon," Neuvillette comments as he sips the tea you prepared for him, pointing to a bag on the front table.

"Ah, yes," you say half-heartedly, taking the bag in your hands, emotions spilling from your chest as you crumple the paper between your fingers.

You sigh deeply, thinking that maybe this gift is your way of saying goodbye to him, of silently making amends and apologizing for something that is absolutely not your fault other than falling in love with the wrong man.

You take out of the bag an encyclopedia, a thick book with thick paste and yellow pages, brought from Sumeru, recommended by the very scribe of the Academya, a book of human anthropology for your dear strange husband, who seems to have a real interest in human behavior. Neuvillette looks at it as if it were a revelation, as incredulous as he is moved, touched by your gift and your attention to his interests. You try to say something, to tell him that you are pregnant, but you stop when you hear him speak.

"I know you're expecting my child," Neuvillette says, without going into the details of how he found out, touching the rim of the teacup, a wedding gift. "Whatever you need, tell me, health, food, you know I will cover all expenses."

"I want to go to Sumeru," you confess in an almost whispered tone, your words seeming to be carried away by the wind rushing through the window.

"That wouldn't be good," for a Hydro Dragon hatchling, of course it wouldn't. "You're too young to venture into a new nation, especially one with new leaders like Sumeru, not to mention the dry climate."

You don't argue, knowing he's right, and decide to simply retreat to your room and wallow in your defeat.

Neuvillette, however, with what little empathy he has generated, caresses the book with his fingertips, gliding over the fine markings carved into the cover.

A gift, he had never given you a gift before, but you had given him a gift by taking the initiative.

The months passed quickly. The precariousness of your relationship, increasingly dry on your part, provokes something in Neuvillette.

He looks at you from his side of the bed, the way you sleep peacefully with a swollen belly, carrying his little dragon without knowing it, without trying to get rid of it, loving it from the first moment. Neuvillette has seen you singing lullabies to your child these past few months, reading him stories while caressing your belly, telling him how much you want him to be born strong and healthy.

He's grateful for the deep affection you have for your child, so much so that he has tried to show it. Maybe what he read in the book worked, or maybe it is just a product of his new feelings for his wife, who is about to become a mother. He would do anything for your son to be born healthy and with a healthy mother.

He buys you fritters on the way home, from the store he found out you like best, courtesy of some Melusine, and sits next to you at the dinner table, trying to take an interest in your day and tell you about his, always aiming for your peace, a healthy heart would bring a healthy child.

His devotion is to the birth of your child, because that's what he tells himself. It's not that he was interested in you, of course not… it's not like he was surprised when you told him your clothes were too tight and you hated your new body, not when he likes to see your new figure when you lie next to him at night, with enlarged breasts and a round belly. He bought you new clothes, yes, by the boatload, but because that's what any husband would do.

He only appreciates you for being the mother of his child, it's not like his heart fluttered when he saw you helping some melusines with their problems, or coddling some baby of your friends, thinking what a wonderful mother you will soon be. It's not like h chest filled with pride when he saw you in the stores looking for maternity books and baby clothes, worrying about the weather and your child's health.

And it's definitely not like he's masturbating in his office, remembering the image of you undressing that morning to get into the tub, cutting the skin of your arms and breasts, moaning at the contact of the warm water against your body, and letting out a sigh of deep satisfaction.

That night, he comes home with the usual everyday gift, this time a box of macaroons, because he noticed that you were looking at them in the display case with great eagerness during the afternoon. And he sits down at the table with you, pours you a cup of tea and starts the conversation, even though he notices that you are much more tired than usual.

He carries you into the bedroom and helps you into your nightgown, taking the opportunity to caress your waist and back as he helps the fabric slide over your curves. And then he strokes your head to help you fall asleep, and without realizing it, he smiles as he sees you fast asleep next to him.

The birth is approaching and the strong pains make you desperate, confined to your room and reluctant to go out even to sunbathe. It was the midwife who unscrupulously suggested to Neuvillette that a little sexual activity would help you get through the contractions. And he, as devoted to his wife's health as any good husband, agrees.

You feel Neuvillette's cock thrust deep into you, deep into your velvety walls, soft and slow, not unlike what you've felt before. His hands rest on the sides of your head, his gaze fixed on his cock disappearing inside you, while you curl your legs at the delicious sensation of his thick appendage inside your pussy. He moves cautiously, sharply, trying not to hurt you, and as he pumps inside you, his gaze is lost on your breasts, bouncing to the rhythm of his gentle thrusts.

"Perfect," he whispers through his teeth, because in his eyes you are the perfect reservoir for his brood, yes, just that… he insists that you are simply his good companion, and pretends that he hasn't wanted to have you like this for weeks, under him, a mess between moans pinned to him as you cling to his arms.

"Monsieur~" you whimper, bringing a hand to your face to cover your expression, though he takes your wrist and looks at your face as if you were a treasure just discovered by a hungry, ambitious man.

When you reach your orgasm, he kisses you, for the first time during sex, Neuvillette kisses you, and even he surprises himself with his own actions. He washes your body and dresses you before you rest, now much calmer than before, sinking into your husband's chest as you fall asleep, ignoring the feelings that surface between the two of you.

When the child is born, Neuvillette is surprised to continue his affection for you. He did not fall into the same materialism as before, because now he recognized in the shared work of the novices how difficult it was to take care of a baby. It is he who washes the child because, to your surprise, he knows the strange need for fresh water that your baby requires at least twice a day. Neuvillette enjoys the laughter that you get from your child, and the way that he lifts his arms so that you can hold him and show him how well you are feeding him, he looks strong and healthy.

One day, as he was leaving the Opera Epiclese, he was distracted by the statue of the Focalors, but his attention was immediately drawn to the babbling exclamations of his son, who was waving in your arms near the fountain. How gratifying is that moment when his heart leaps with joy as he sees you holding his child.

The days have been sunny in Fontaine since your son was born, and to Neuvillette's relief, the bitter memories of his separation from the Focalors are just that, memories… past images that he does not cherish, as he knows humans do, not now that his being is entirely devoted to his mate and his brood. What kind of elixir have you become for him, that he can forget all his sorrows and his past loves?

Neuvillette spends hours in his office poring over the pages of the book you gave him months ago, highlighting this thing called melancholy, the longing for past situations and desires, and feeling sorry for those who feel it, because if it were a disease, he would call himself cured of this melancholy.

He finds it curious how you managed to get rid of all the gloomy feelings that plagued him, and even wonders if you are not some kind of sorceress… No, not you, not when you so devotedly cleanse your child and offer him a carefully prepared dinner, and practically put your heart and soul into every act of domesticity.

Focalors… her name and image sail through the ancient memories of Neuvillette's tattered mind, the smile of a woman he loved, now replaced by that of the one who lies beside him, coddling a bright-eyed, rosy-cheeked child. Funny how in such a short time he had acquired such human habits as feeling part of a family he hadn't even planned to have.

Your relationship with Neuvillette, full of respect and admiration, help and companionship, seems to evolve into something more. You become his confidant, his mentor when he has doubts about human children or about the customs between parents and children. Involuntarily, he comes to you when he has questions, not to a library, for despite your young mortal age, you know much more than books could ever give him.

You are patient with his ignorance and loving when he is wrong. Mutual and pure respect, absolute devotion and admiration. Neuvillette doesn't believe you are human, how can you be human with so many virtues… his curiosity grows and changes, so much so that he counts the hours in court to come home and chat with you while you nurse his child.

He returns home that night with new doubts, because he has seen strange devices for children without understanding their usefulness, called fun. Can they have fun by themselves? Aren't they too young for that?…oh, and he brings a storybook, because he understands that made-up stories are interesting for babies, even if they don't understand much of the language.

He goes to the baby's room with an enthusiasm he doesn't know he has, and stops at the door when he hears you soothing your baby's cry with sweet words.

"Hydro-Dragon, Hydro-Dragon, don't cry," you murmur as you caress your child's cheek and try to feed him.

Your child is frantically breastfeeding, his tears fading as he closes his bright purple eyes, his little hands clenched into fists and his nose twitching. Neuvillette watches the whole scene from the doorway, his heart in his throat and his feelings on his skin. Those words that broke his soul so long ago now seem to put the pieces of his shattered existence back together.

He smiles, a melancholy, self-satisfied smile. And he looks at you, he looks at you with devotion, because you have finally made him understand what he feels and has felt for so many months. His devoted wife, as patient as she is charming… seems wiser and more skillful than any scholar.

Leaving your child in its cradle, you straighten your neck and turn to Neuvillette, who has entered the room.

"What a beautiful book," you murmur, picking it up, "the baby will love it.

Neuvillette watches you with one hand on the crib that protects his baby, then watches his son sleep, wrinkling his nose the way you do when you sleep.

"You must be exhausted," he whispers, stroking your arm and leading you out of the baby's room.

"Not at all," you smile, "the child fills me with vitality."

"So… Hydro Dragon," Neuvillette recalls the words you said to his baby.

"I said it when I was a girl, like everyone else in Fontaine, it was an idea that came to me suddenly," you answer, and he smiles at your expression, thinking that maybe he heard you when you were a girl, maybe you were one of the many children who recited the same words when it rained in Fontaine.

"I have to tell you something," Neuvillette says, his voice lacking authority, more like a prayer. You watch him from the kitchen.

"'Tell me.

Focalors, Neuvillette, Furina, Fontaine's hydrodragon, the flood, his never-confessed love… he tells you everything because he understands that you deserve the truth, and that he doesn't deserve you because you're too understanding of his confession. It is as if this conversation has cleared up all your doubts, and you have finally seen the real Neuvillette, who fully trusts you to know what to do with this information.

Neuvillette believes that you will ask him for a divorce and leave him alone with his son, but he is surprised to find you preparing breakfast the next morning with your child tied to your leg while you both laugh.

He does not deserve you, definitely not, for he is perhaps the most despicable man in Fontaine and all of Teyvat. To think of another while he is married, to take his wife with him in a grief that is not hers, to bind her to him forever by impregnating her… how mean he must have been, and how understanding you become as his selfishness grows.

He hugs you from behind, buries his face in your neck, inhales your scent and clings to your waist. He begs for forgiveness countless times, and you feel that he may have already shed a few tears on your shoulder, because the sky suddenly begins to cloud over.

"There's nothing to forgive," you whisper, stroking his head, "we can't choose who we fall in love with."

He looks at you in disbelief, wondering in what book he would find such an accurate statement. You had fallen in love with him, and he finally understands, for you are both victims of the disorderly course of love, so messy in its actions, indifferent to those it hurts.

He thinks about your words as he sits in his office, as he looks at the framed photograph he has of you holding his son, and wonders when he fell into the trap of the reckless love that humans call it.

The name of the Focalors does not mean anything to him anymore, even less when he sees Lady Furina in boutiques or restaurants… surely a memory has finally become just that, a memory. His heart is now the prey of another person, his wife, the mother of his son.

Neuvillette understands that there is a difference between soul mates, first love, and true love. The connection with Focalors had been imminent years ago, as both were unaware of the actions of the society in which they had become intruders, but they were nothing more than that, accomplices in a game of masks and power, the first experience of mutual affection and trust. Focalors was his soulmate, yes, because she understood firsthand everything he experienced, but being a living part of her theater did not feel authentic.

With you, however, Neuvillette had learned to be a part of his people, whether as a human or a dragon, as Chief Justice or as the father of an infant. He was no longer an intruder or a stranger ignorant of human ways, not after you. At your side, Neuvillette had known a new range of sensations, of experiences and learning based on mistakes, all very human on his part, and as expected, he had learned to fall in love again, because it was inevitable, after several problems and misunderstandings between the two of you, after the birth of his son and the new horizons that fatherhood brought. His affection for you had been disguised as admiration and redemption, his ignorance had once again avoided love, a mistake he wanted to make up for.

Sitting in your living room while he reads a book and you braid his hair and hum a lullaby, Neuvillette lets the waves of your voice carry him away, wondering what kind of marital experiences he had missed with you.

"What kind of things do husbands do?" He asks suddenly, looking up at you from the carpeted floor, surprising you with his curious question.

"Well…" you think, it's not like when he asks you why kids suck their thumbs or why people give each other presents on non-holidays. It's not a question about trivial human behavior, not this time.

"I've seen couples go out to dinner, but you told me that friends also go out to dinner," he continues, elaborating on his puzzle. "Wriothesley and I have had tea together, what would be the difference between having tea with him and with you?"

"Well…" you continue to think about your answer. "Perhaps the most obvious is living together, planning the week together, household and food expenses, child care, and confidentiality between the two. When you and I have tea, we talk about things that you probably don't mention to Wriothesley".

" Certainly," he says with a hand on his chin, "you and I do all those things, but how is that different from students who share a house? They also plan expenses and discuss confidences."

"Then I guess the biggest difference is in starting a family. Normally, people get married because they want to have a family with the person they choose, the person they love, or the person their parents impose on them."

"So sex is what differentiates married people," he says, and you remain static at his words, stopping to braid his hair, "of course… the physical and emotional affection shown by both parties in marriage…" Neuvillette rambles on, his own conclusion as he sits on the couch next to you, thinking about how he hasn't shown his affection the way he should.

He looks at you out of the corner of his eye, you are distracted by the details of your skirt, picking out rebellious threads, and then he thinks about the last time he kissed you and wonders what it would be like to kiss someone with marital affection.

"Can I kiss you?" The question is thrown out with innocence, causing surprise in you.

"You've kissed me before, Neuvillette," you say, smiling and getting up to go into the kitchen, "we even have a son, I don't think there's anything new to try."

"Indeed," he says, getting up and walking toward you, your back against one of the walls, "but the variable that makes this situation different from the others is that I didn't feel that way about you."

"Like what?" you ask, as he moves closer to you, almost cornering you against the wall.

"I like thinking about you, being with you, hearing you talk," he says, his tone low, as if he were ashamed to confess everything to you. "I thought it was a simple instinct to care for you as the mother of my child… but now I know it's something deeper than that."

You look at him in surprise, now it is you who has unknowns that only he can answer. The silence between you is cold and almost tactile.

"What about her? Of the Archon," you whisper, your breath depending on the question, Neuvillette's forehead inches from yours.

"It's not the same. There is no excitement or desire. I never longed for her or desired her like you. She didn't provoke me the way you did, it's almost annoying."

"Am I annoying? "Is that what she's telling me, Judge?" You smile as you touch the tip of his nose, trying to take some of the seriousness out of the conversation.

"You are adorably hypnotic, I must say. More than you should be. You have taken everything from me without me even realizing it, subtly and carefully taking over my mind and my heart," Neuvillette's hands caress your cheek, high above your skin, avoiding friction as if his touch would bruise your flawless complexion.

"Let me show you these human feelings that have taken over me, please," he whispers, his thumb sliding over your lower lip. He says it almost like a complaint, his bursting emotions becoming painful, trapped in his chest, longing for you to give him comfort and permission to act.

"I'll let you… only if you promise me something," you say, taking his hand, avoiding the marks of his fingers on you. "You will never push me aside for another woman again…"

His oath needs no words, not when he has you leaning against the kitchen table, his cock pushing behind you to your cervix. Your muffled moans as he adjusts your skirt over your waist and spreads your legs further to give him free access to your pussy, which sucks him contemptuously.

Neuvillette feels like a fantasy, thrusting relentlessly into you, touching the bulge that has formed in your belly from the penetration of his cock, pushing with his hand so you can feel it better, eliciting a high-pitched moan from you. . He kisses your cheek and you hear his muffled moans against your ear as he utters words of worship.

You grip the marble edge of the table, moaning at the burning building in your belly, your eyes glassy and spit falling from your mouth. It's as if your legs were lifeless, as if you were prey to Neuvillette and the way he drives his love for you so deep that it seems to stir your womb.

That afternoon he takes you in the kitchen, and the next morning he doesn't let you get out of bed, one hand on the headboard and the other around your waist, Neuvillette has you with your ass up like a dog in heat, hitting your slippery with his length. The strength that his support gives you is hard to bear, your breasts trembling strongly as your ass bounces to his rhythm, your skin moving like waves in the sea with each vibration that Neuvillette's relentless interference causes.

His hand slides down your body, caressing your breasts and down to your clit, your face buried in the pillows, almost crying at how good his fingers feel on your nervous lump. He fills you with his seed when he reaches orgasm, because he is dying to see you again with your belly swollen for his offspring. And he kisses you again, he kisses your forehead while you catch your breath, while you cover your body that has been bruised by his fingers, defining the lustful path of his digits over your body.

In his office, he remembers the past hours with fanciful lust and longs to return home to enjoy this new activity that you have made him experience, this new addiction that your body represents against his. He longs for your company and your warmth, your voice moaning with pleasure and the way your nails dig into his back. He adores everything about you, not only because you are the mother of his child, but because he finally understands, after several months of reading and reflection, that he has truly fallen in love with you, his precious human wife.

#genshin impact #genshin smut #neuvilette smut #neuvillette #neuvilette genshin #genshin impact smut #genshin x reader #Neuv #neuvilette x reader #Foca #focalors #focallette

364 notes · View notes

azrielslightintheshadows · 5 months

Text

Princess.

Azriel x f!Reader

One of the series I’m currently working on. Enjoy!

Summary; Reader is Mor’s new friend that she found in the winter court while she was away for business. Y/n has been raised as a princess since her parents wanted to wed her to a noble fae in order to climb the social ranks. When her parents are brutally murdered y/n is left alone without a clue about the harsh reality or the brutality of the world. Mor finds her and takes her back to Velaris afraid of what might happen to her if she was left to live on her own. Will y/n survive the hate she will receive from certain members of the inner circle -including her mate- regarding the way she grew up?

Warnings; angst, mentions of abuse and trauma

Masterlist.

Princess Masterlist.

Chapter 2

Azriel was seething, he felt like he could kill Rhysand for how he played him. How could he do this to him? He despised you, he hated you. He hated the fact that you never got to see the slaughter that happened in the war, he hated that you never had to get your hands dirty with someone’s blood. He hated that you were raised in a warm house with loving parents, that you would have dinner every night with your parents -the table filled with love and care. He didn’t know why he felt like that, he knew he should be glad that someone else didn’t go through what him and his family did, he should feel happy that a beautiful and sweet female like you wasn’t defiled by the horrors of this world. He could see how delicate you were, you reminded him of a rare and unique flower and even though he loved that, he felt the urge to rip this flower from the ground and destroy it. Was he a monster? He wondered. He was sure raised like one, but did they manage to turn him into one too?

Lost in these thoughts he reached the roof, he removed his shirt and didn’t even bother to wrap his hands as he approached the training dummy. He kept punching and kicking, hatred was pouring out of him like a wave, smashing into everything that stood on its way and drowning anyone who didn’t run away.

The dummy snapped in half and fell on the ground. Only then he stopped and stared, his breathing plummeting and tears escaping his eyes.

Was he so broken that he could hate a soft creature just because she was raised better than him?

“Ouch” Cassian cringed as he walked out “what did it do to you?”

“Fuck off” Azriel growled making Cassian chuckle.

“Do you want a real opponent?” The warlord asked and amusement filled his eyes, it had been a while since he had a good fight.

Azriel pounced on him and so they began.

Cassian had never seen him acting like that before, the shadowsinger was mad, his eyes wide and red, his hair a mess, his shadows frantically flowing around and the two siphons he had on each arm cracking from the power. Azriel had Cassian on the ground in less than five minutes.

“I hate her” -punch.

“I fucking hate her” -punch

“I fucking hate me.” -he didn’t punch this time, he just stared wide-eyed, his shoulders rising and falling quickly with every breath.

Cassian was speechless, he just stared at his brother with a worried and confused look.

“How on earth can I be mated with someone so weak and naive”

Cassian choked on air “she is your mate?”

“Yeah I felt the bond snap the moment she walked in…” Azriel rolled his eyes.

“Does she know?” The warlord stood up and stretched.

“I don’t think so, and I don’t care” he shrugged.

“But…why? I mean she seems like a sweet and caring female she could make you happy” Cassian was really confused, his brother needed love and affection so why was he denying his chance to get them.

“How can I be with someone like her? She will never be able to understand me and what I’ve been through. She is trained to wed a high fae not an Illyrian bastard. I will corrupt her, I will defile her.” Azriel couldn’t breathe as he realised what he said. Everything was entirely true.

“Az, please don’t think like that, you deserve to be happy. She deserves to be happy too and you can make her happy…” Cassian spoke with a sad look.

“No I can’t. Don’t speak about this again.” Azriel said and picked his shirt up, ready to leave.

“What are you planning to do?” His brother asked him.

“Make her hate me.” He responded and left.

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧

You stayed in your room, when Mor came to ask you if you wanted to go out you told her that you couldn’t because you had to wait for Azriel to get you. She didn’t say anything and left with a curious look.

You didn’t know if Azriel was going to come, maybe he would avoid you and tell Rhysand that he showed you everything and you didn’t need to hang out together anymore.

Your hope didn’t last long as Azriel strolled in your room, his face was cold. He scanned your room and hummed. “Such a cute room for the princess” he scoffed.

“I didn’t choose it.” You whispered.

“Did I give you permission to talk?” He growled and you shook your head, you opened your mouth to say sorry but closed it again when he glared.

“Get dressed we are going out. I expect you to be at the balcony in five minutes” and with that he was gone.

You took a shaky breath and got up. You didn’t know what to wear, if you wore a dress he would scoff and be like “of course the princess is wearing a dress” so you picked a pair of pants and a shirt that looked way too big for you -At least this will cover my silhouette. You thought and got dressed. You felt kinda guilty for wearing pants, your mother would be so disappointed. But you needed to forget all the training you had and finally get a hold of your life. You needed to gain control of yourself in order to survive.

The pants were tight but the shirt reached your knees so you felt comfortable, with one last look on your reflection you hurried off not wanting to piss him more by being late.

The moment you walked out to the balcony and he saw you his eyes widened and his face became red. He looked feral.

“What the fuck are you wearing?” He growled.

You stared at him waiting for permission to speak, he noticed. “Speak”

“I found those in my closet” you whispered.

“Why would my shirt be in your closet?”

You gaped at him, this shirt belonged to him? And then it hit you, the smell seemed so familiar when you wore the shirt… it was his smell. Stupid, how did you not notice this. You reprimanded yourself.

“I can go back and change” you offered and he just rolled his eyes.

“I don’t have all day, and I don’t care, you already ruined it. Keep it” he made a look of disgust and flared his wings.

“Let’s go” he said and opened his arms.

Your jaw dropped. You would fly to the city? Couldn’t he winnow you there? What if he dropped you? This would solve his problem.

He noticed your hesitation and huffed.

“I won’t drop you come on my patience is running low don’t make me grab you”

And with that you moved closer to him and let him gather you in his arm. His smell was so toxic yet addictive and you had to use way too much power to keep yourself from leaning further into him.

He glanced at you and took off. You didn’t scream, you didn’t feel fear. You kept staring at the city so mesmerised by the view. You felt free and a smile appeared on your face.

Azriel noticed this and furrowed his eyebrows.

“You’re not scared?” He asked.

“No, I like the feeling” you whispered, you weren’t sure if he heard you over the wind. The corners of his mouth twitched, a smile was trying to emerge but he quickly covered it with a frown. He looked at you, mischief flashing in his eyes and he dived. You were descending so fast that you could feel your intestines rearranging themselves but you didn’t scream, you didn’t know why but at that moment you trusted him. Even though he despised you… you trusted that he wouldn’t drop you and… you laughed. The ground was getting closer and you were laughing. You felt like you had gone mad. Azriel was probably thinking the same because his jaw dropped and confusion filled his features.

He manoeuvred both of you to the sky again and he stopped. You were floating over the city . You glanced at him and he was staring at your face.

“You really aren’t scared” he noted.

You nodded and he shook his head, the cold expression coming back as he landed. He dropped you and started walking. You grunted as your back made contact with the ground and your eyes filled with tears, you weren’t hurt just embarrassed as everyone stared at you.

“Come on I don’t have all day”

Requests are open!

My laptop has left the chat and probably this life so I’m posting this from my phone. So please excuse any mistakes I might not have noticed. Getting a new laptop on Monday 🥲

Also if anyone wants to be tagged on this series please comment so I can make a tag list on my phone.

362 notes · View notes

viktorxsheep · 10 months

Note

HI! i apologize for any mistakes, i dont send requests to often :,)

I was wondering if you could do the Star Rail boys and Fem! Reader with a pucca dynamic? Like she's over here tracking them down just to give them kisses and stuff, and gets jealous pretty easily. If all of them are too much just Blade and/dan heng! :))

hi!! thanks for the request! i loved this show so much when i was younger haha. thankyou for allowing me to indulge in my dan heng and welt yang love teehee. (no mistakes by the way!! :>>)

dan heng, welt yang, blade, jing yuan, gepard x fem! reader

___

dan heng

Dan Heng liked his peace. He liked his days in his room, looking through the archives as he sorted through every single data that he had jotted down in his notebook.

Ofcourse, he also knew to always expect you. Disrupting the perfect peace that he made for himself. He always acted annoyed and a little bit grumpy whenever you bursted through his doors, but he genuinely did like it. He loved your kisses, he could drown in them and he would reincarnate just so he could open his arms and allow you to ram into them.

As your relationship grew, he started getting a bit more flustered at your strong declarations of love. Your jealousy, your passion- he’s never experienced a love this strong and this good. All he wants to do now is to return it tenfold…r he’s still a little bit shy.

So when he can finally rest beside you, you sleeping in his arms, he can kiss your forehead as he hums a soft tune from his past. He didn’t expect that he’d love you this much, but now he even gets a little grumpy if you don’t kiss him all over the face in the morning, or go and tightly hug him. He still has nightmares..but now, he can atleast envision your body dashing to his to kiss him when he wakes up instead of the fear and the hurt.

blade

Blade was a little different from Dan Heng. Where Dan Heng was shy and a little bit unsure on how to repay your affections, Blade embraced this wholeheartedly. He relished in the affection, it made him happy.

But a small pet of him wondered if this was alright, if he even deserved this. From all of his past actions, the mistakes he would most definitely make in the future- did he deserve you running to him and toppling him over for kisses? He doesn’t want to dwell, instead, he hopes you let him love you the same way.

If ever you are jealous, he will sit you on his lap (albeit a little awkwardly at first) and he will comfort your insecurities. Are his comforting words not exactly very comforting? sure, but he tries. “You must be sick if you believe I do not love you, don’t be silly.”

Although he really hopes you would stop trying to chase after him during missions for affection, you could get hurt and it’s a bit annoying being teased by Kafka (well, he’d go through it if it’s you at the very least).

welt yang

He is such an old man. Stop giving him heart attacks as you go and kiss him every morning! atleast let him brush his teeth, but he has a feeling you don’t really mind that much. Welt always wakes up earlier than you do, smiling as he watches you excitedly open your eyes to meet his loving embrace.

You may be overexcited and very in love, but Welt can almost beat you in one thing…being the greatest male wife house husband figure you could think of. For every gift, kiss you shower him with, hugs- he surprises you with homemade cooking, clothes that he patched up, flowers and chocolates (that he made himself).

Whenever you get jealous, he can’t help but stifle a small laugh. You were so cute- though he really does not want you to feel insecure. When he knows you’re getting jealous (because he can read you like an open book) he calmly sets you aside and kisses your forehead, assuring you that his love and his heart lies only with you. He couldn’t imagine his life without you in it, so tell him if ever you feel insecure or jealous, he will always listen.

jing yuan

The fearsome leader of the cloud knights believed he was prepared for any sort of challenge. Some fearsome and formidable foes? no matter, stellaron hunters? he will ensure the safety of everyone he can. But who knew he would be so soft and fall victim to-

you. Wonderful, amazing, beautiful you. You in all of your glory, your soft kisses and excited smiles. He could sleep all day just to see you in his dreams, but he loves you even better in real life. He will get flustered (and never show it), and he will always feel bad when he’s forced to ask you to wait outside a meeting room due to the confidential information being shared.

He will ease your worries, he will hold your hand. He wants you to be as safe and as happy as possible, so how could he not indulge you? whatever kisses you’d like the give him, you may. While he can’t always let you bulldoze over to him just to kiss, he will always make it up to you after the moment you two get home.

gepard

You wanted to kill him.

He was sure.

Fearsome, strong, loyal knight captain. That was who he was and how his reputation was…atleast until his underlings saw the red hot blush on his face as you somehow got through the silver mane guards just to kiss and hug him. While he always scolds you (always with a small stutter due to the shock and flusteredness) to not follow him while he went away, he always held you in his arms and let you do as you pleased.

He would walk you back to the safer areas in the administrative district of Belobog, letting you get your fill in of as much hugs and kisses you want before he’s forced to rip himself and his tomato red face away from you.

You being jealous was the most shocking for him. You’re jealous? why? he may be a knight captain, but you were infinitely more beautiful and amazing and- if this line were to continue on, it would fill pages and pages of writing. An entire novel dedicated to every affection you’d offer and how he would call you.

403 notes · View notes

fishsticksloser · 10 months

Note

Rottmnt with all turtles (separately along with future turtles ) with female girlfriend reader who loves spoiling them? Romantic hc.

Like she give them everything they want and wish for; praises? She'll make it rain. Kisses? She's shower them with it and add hugs. Gifts? She try to know what they want the most and give them more then just 1 gift, sometimes 5 if she can. She's supportive and her only goal is to make her boyfriend happy.

Affectionate!Reader

RotTMNT & f!turtles x gn!reader

Warnings: fluff, aged up

A/N: Ugh, all of them deserve so much love, so so much. Especially after the movie stuff. I forgot a bunch of words and had to look them up because I couldn't remember what they were...

Donnie

He's touch adverse for the most part

Especially at the beginning of your relationship

Much prefers when you compliment and praise him

But he noticed that you didn't touch him much

He noticed the other ways you showed affection

Like making his favorite food

Or bringing Donnie snacks and coffee

You always listened to his rambling, asking questions when you didn't understand something

As a thank you, he often made you things

When he went over to your house, he noticed that they were used

He melted

He tries his hardest to show affection in other ways

Ways that were more familiar to you

Once he was comfortable, he let you touch his shell

He felt that was a huge step in your relationship

He's a lot more open to physical touch

Loves kisses and scratches a lot more

Appreciates everything you give him

Future Donnie:

He's busy, so he doesn't have much time for cuddles and love

So when you make him food, he inhales it (a skill softshells have)

He loves your food

When he's in need of some affection,

He pulls you into his lap

He loves when you bury your face in his neck

Loves feeling your lips on his neck

Donnie will occasionally kiss your neck in return

He'll churr and chirp for you too

Letting you know he appreciates it

Begs for scratches

Mostly on the backs of his shoulders, where his shell meets his skin

But also loves when you scratch under his chin

Leo

Leo loves affection

He constantly showers you in affection

He loves kissing all over your face

He'll kiss you randomly

Leo just likes hearing you laugh so he'll blow raspberries on your neck sometimes

But you drown him

Every time he lays on you, you kiss him

He loves when you give him scratches, especially under his chin

He loves it

Leo loves being spoiled

He loves when you pull him in for a kiss or kiss his plastron

He loves everything you give him

Leo wants to be around you all the time

He wants to feel the affection pouring out of you

Sometimes he does need a break, but he feels sad when he doesn't have your affection

He loves it when you rub his shell and head

He's so in love with you

His brothers are a little annoyed/jealous

Future Leo:

He's a busy man, busy leading the rebellion

So he doesn't have time

You hardly see him

The only time you ever really see Leo is on the rare occasion he actually was able to make it to bed

On those nights, you shower him in affection

Kissing his neck, scratches

Everything

He groans about how much he appreciates it

Such a great stress relief

He tries to reciprocate, repay you

But he just can't

He's so tired, so slumped

Still with everything going on

He tries his absolute best to let you know how he feels

Mikey

Both of you are the same

Absolutely drowning each other

It's just a game to see who will start laughing first

He enjoys shell rubs

Mikey loves returning it with back rubs

Absolutely loves sharing his turtle noises with you

He cooks for you

Adores when you help him cook

Loves hugging you from behind

Kisses are nice, but much prefers cuddles

Will find every excuse for you to stay the night

He enjoys laying on you, his head on your stomach or chest

He always has to be touching you

Either having his leg press against yours during movie night

Or running his hands around your body

He loves when you do it back

Future Mikey:

A busy guy

Busy healing and helping others

Unlike Leo, he has more of a chance to get away

He loves 'sneaking' away to have moments alone with you

Kissing in an empty hallway between tasks

It made him feel like a teenager again

He looks forward to going home to you every night

You both smother each other in affection

If no one can find Mikey, they know exactly who he's with

Raph

He's a bigger fan of kisses than cuddles

As much as he loves cuddles, his spikes make him nervous

Overall, though

He is in love with your affection

He shows affection with acts of service over physical touch

But its still high on his list

Loves having you in his lap

He loves burying his face in your neck

He'll blow raspberries just to hear you laugh

That's just to return the favor

All your sweet words, touches, everything

Devores everything you make him

Blushes every time you kiss him, doesn't matter where

Future Raph:

He's super busy

He's almost always gone on missions

Supply runs, fights, everything

He yearns for when he comes home so he can bask in your affection

He loves just laying in bed and letting you do whatever you like to him

He'll reciprocate in the morning

384 notes · View notes

theship-thewalrus · 2 years

Note

More aegon ii targaryen x niece, part 2 where there at the family dinner thing and aegon has his hand on her baby bump. That just makes me squeal idk why.

Hi anon!! I am glad you and others seemed to like it! Here is the requested second part and I hope you all love it as much as the first :)

aegon ii targaryen x niece! female! reader

pretty much the ask

word count: 1517 words reading time: about 9 minutes warnings: n/a

part 1 || ending 1 || ending 2 || ending 3 || ending 4 || headcanon 1 || headcannon 2

A family dinner was the last thing you had wanted to do after being pushed to tears under the stares of your birth family. How you wish to simply stay in your shared room with Aegon. Hidden away from the world, living in your own paradise where everything was fine. But you could not deny the wishes of a dying man, no matter how much Aegon assured you that he would not mind skipping the dinner.

The man had never cared for his father, though using such words for the man was being kind. They may have shared the same blood, but Viserys acted little like a father towards him or his siblings. Similarly how you and Rheanrya had grown apart after your marriage to Aegon. Yet, unlike Ageon you had good memories of your time with your mother before it went to hell.

The room was lit and the table was set as you entered the dining room with your husband. The chairs were set for both families and a large gap in the middle, for what you assumed was for the King. With his hand on the small of your, back Aegon lead you to the table, ensuring you sat with him. Slowly everyone began entering the room, most of them sending a smile while others only gave you a glare.

Your eyes were cast down on the table in front of you as you decided to stay quiet for the night. Aegon's hand reached out and grabbed your hand under the table. A reassuring squeeze was given yet his eyes remained forward, not giving away your interlocked hands.

As the doors opened for a final time, it was just the King to arrive. The sound of chairs scraping the floor rang out as everyone stood up in his presence. The man looked horrible, like before a golden mask covered his decaying face, yet now he seemed not even have the strength to walk. Once his chair was placed down everyone sat once again, Aegond helping you by pushing in your chair slightly.

Though he was not a man who was very open and out about his affections for others, it was the rather small things. Things have seemed to amplify after your pregnancy. It made you smile to see a man who is usually so rude and distant, be so kind and attentive. The man simply needed to be shown he was loved, that he deserved the happiness he felt when he was with you. He deserved the family you would give him.

In the dead of night, when not even a mouse stirred in the Keep he could confess to your sleeping form about his fears. His fear of being like his own father, a distant and uncaring man who was disinterested in any child that was not Rheanrya. He would vow he would not be like that, he would be better. He would care for his child and know he was loved.

The food slowly began being served after the King almost pleaded for a single meal with his family. Where no glares or snide remarks were made. That for a single moment they pretend they are a happy and close family, not one on the brink of ruin. Toasts were being drunk over others, false words of admiration and care spoken for them.

"And a toast to my daughter. That despite her marriage, she still holds her head high." It was a backwards comment, anyone could see that. But in the King's bias towards her, the comment was unquestioned. A glare set on the silverware in front of you, your hands clenching into fists. How could she say that? About your marriage, the one she organized.

It was clear that the comment upset Aegon as well, his face hardening and another glass of wine was drowned. Normally you would tell him off for drinking so much, that it was not good for him. But this time you would let it slide because you knew the wine needs to be flowing to get through this.

Toasts continued, the music began and the dancing of Helena and Jacaerys began. For a moment everything was in order, with the addition of wine there were smiles on people's faces. Learning to the side you whispered to Aegon, the man holding a sly smile as his eyes drift to the people you whisper about. The glass of wine never left his lips for long.

All seemed well, that for a moment this would not turn. There would be a single happy memory of his family for this decaying man. But as Aemond slammed his hand on the table and stood to address everyone, you knew such a thing would not happen. That the one-eyed man is bitter and scorned. As the poisonous words poured from his mouth and the pleas for him to stop from Alicent fell on deaf ears, chaos erupted.

Jacaerys was quick to take his words to heart and so did you. He spoke in such a way to your brothers, almost forgetting you were their sister. That you too adored the features of Ser Harwin Strong, that you even now are subjected to whispers and odd looks. When you were younger the word bastard was thrown at you like it was nothing, people enjoying to call you by what they believed to be your rank. A bastard that held no true blood of Laenor.

You had moved to rest on your bump, as your brother attacked Aemond and your husband attacked your other brother. Tears fill your eyes as it all became too much, the cruel words he spoke and the lack of defence from your husband. Had he agreed with his brother? That you were just a bastard?

You were one of the first to leave the room, returning to your room for the night. Not bothering total to Aegon or even looking at him after the fight at the table with your brothers. You knew you should stand with Aegon, to be his wife by your side. But he allowed a comment to slide so easily, the mind can not even defend you.

Entering your room the door was shut loudly behind you as the tears for the second time that day trailed down your cheeks. Angrily, you took off the jewellery you wore, carelessly throwing them on the dresser. The door opened once more while you were doing so, Aegon sneaking in.

He immediately noticed your disappearance from the supper and left to find you. A part of him knew he should've defended you, told his brother off for his words in front of you. Yet he was too caught up in the chance of hurting someone, fuelled by the endless amount of wine he was given. But even in his state, he knew you were missing and upset.

"My wife?" He questions coming up from behind you, his hands coming out from behind you and resting over your bump. It was something that comforted both of you in different ways. Any other time you would melt at his touch, but you were filled with anger, only enforced by your pregnant state. Stepping out of his grip your eyes were hard and cold as they gazed upon him, lacking their usual warmth.

"Do not touch me Aegon. I wouldn't want you to soil your hands by touching a Strong." your voice was laced with venom as you all but spat the words at him. The man before you coward into himself at your gaze. He hated it when you were not upset with him, it was not something that happened often, but when it did he loathed it. He had seen the same look on his mother and father all his life, he never wanted you to look at him in such a way.

"You know I do not agree with my brother." He begins but you cut him off "Yet you did nothing." His eyes flick to the ground, trying to fold into himself as you glared at him. You did not like seeing that sadness in his eyes, the way he awarded before you. All you wanted to do was bring him into your arms and reassure him. But he could not get away with this, he needed to know it was not right.

"Aegon, you know I love you. That I look past things you say and do all the time. But this is something that I can not look past. For years I have heard the whispers others say about me, the looks and stares. I know when we were younger you too said such things. But... I thought when we married, you put it behind you, saw me more than some bastard." There was a sadness in your voice as your tears continued, this time more sadness than anger.

Aegon frowned deeply as he brought you into his arms, the pair of you simply basking in each other's touch. Though this conversation was not over, tonight you would put it behind you.

#aegon targaryen x reader #aegon targaryen imagines #aegon imagines #aegon x reader #house of the dragon x reader #hotd x reader #house of the dragon imagines #hotd imagines #aegon ii x reader #aegon ii targaryen x reader

2K notes · View notes

thefandomdirtymind · 7 months

Note

Heyyy! I know you are all about Sanji (and I love it!) but could you write something about Shanks too? He really makes my heart spin! 💕💕💕

A/N IMPORTANT: Hi ! I'm really happy that you liked my Sanji storied and I had gladly take another turn for you Anon. Shanks deserve indeed some love too, so I hope you will like my attempt to bring some love in Shanks life. Thank you for your request !

Wait for me

OPLA - Shanks

Sanji / OPLA Masterlist and Coming Soon

* English is not my first language, I tried really hard to correct myself but, I hope you will excuse me if some mistakes are still there.

---

The life in your little part of the world wasn’t so bad. The weather was generally sunny more than rainy, your community was kind and joyful. But, more importantly, your shore was boarding the East Blue, creating many trading opportunities and occasions to meet interesting people ready to tell their tale about the sea.

Your job as a waitress in the little bar of the port wasn’t the worst you had either. You made good money, learned the best gossip beforehand and had the chance to meet many kinds of people. And for bad days, well, you can say you learned to take care of yourself.

However, it was one particular client you were waiting eagerly for. Each few months or so, Shanks and his crew of pirates anchored their ship on your shore, taking a well deserved rest, resupplying and then taking the sea again. It was a routine you knew perfectly well for a few years now.

It’s why you had made a habit, at least thrice a day every few months, during your shift, to watch the sea hoping to notice the well known Jolly roger. But, you could always count on Luffy to spot it before you and scream the good news all the way.

“ SHANKS AND THE CREW ARE BACK” The child was shouting, running.

Giving a look behind the bar to your boss, you saw her nodding off the head while cleaning a glass.

“ Y/N isn’t the time of your break ? “ She simply asked, already knowing everything.

“ Yes I think it is, I will be right back “ You smiled before heading to the beach.

The ship was anchored at his usual spot and the crew was busy, unloading empty barrels and crates full of treasures.

But, you didn’t even give a look to the gold glittering under the sun. You only had eyes for the tall redhead man with a straw hat, on the dock, helping his crew.

Shanks had always treated you with nothing more than respect and tenderness, making you feel, at each of his stops, like a true lady. It wasn’t a secret for nobody that you had a crush on the kind Captain. Even Luffy, who wasn’t in age to truly understand love, had asked you questions about your affection. But, never could you have thought that the man was looking at you that way. You were pretty, smart and creative, it was true, but you weren’t the only pretty smart woman in the east blue and you were perfectly aware of it.

Until that night.

The bar was quiet, almost at his close time, many members of the crew were back to the ship, a bottle in hand to help them sleep, letting you alone with Shanks ,drinking his last drink. He wasn’t usually the last one to leave ,but ,his behavior had been strangely quiet and almost contemplative during all the evening, had make you wonder if he hadn't, for once, need to drown some bad news in his drink.

“ Y/N, I have a dilemma and I need your help“ He finally says, an almost sad smile on his lips.

“ I will try Shanks, what is it ? “ You replied, curious but excited to be the one he had thought to ask about his personal difficulty.

“ You see, I have seen a lot of places and many women in the East blue, but everytime I come back here, I can easily say you are even more beautiful, kind and smart than them all. “ He confessed, taking a sip of his alcool “ I would love to kiss you and keep you to myself. But, you see I can’t stop thinking that it isn’t fair for you,letting you here to wait for me...my life isn’t easy but you're so tempting…What would you do if you were at my place ?"

The glass you were cleaning almost fell off your hand as your cheeks took a pretty pink color. But, for you it was an easy question going with an even quick answer.

“ I know that your life isn’t easy, but I also know that I can’t ask you to stay here and I think that it is a fair trade for our kisses and affection. After all, I already wait impatiently for you and the crew to come back every few months just to see you look at me. So, you love for my patience “ You replied as he rose from his stools an amused expression of his lips.

“ It seems indeed a fair trade “ He smiled reaching across the bar to give you a kiss you will never forget.

But now, here he was, giving order and unloading until he saw you and joy spread on his face. Getting down from the dock, he quickly looked at you before pulling you in a warm hug smelling the sea, the lemon of his soap and his personal scent.

“ I missed you, Y/N. You hadn’t an idea “ He first said, before noticing your amused,but, trying to be serious, expression. “ What…?”

“ You’re late, you'd tell me you were back by the last full moon “ You accused, trying to look mad but failing as you tenderly pushed back as straw of red hair across his forehead.

“ I’m late? “ He innocently jokes, trying to distract you with a kiss. ” Yes maybe, but I didn’t miss this month's full moon...I still can admire your figure under the moonlight, maybe even on that beach tonight?”

“ You’re incorrigible “ You laugh, forgiving him with another kiss. “ I missed you too “

“ SHANKS ! “ The not so small voice of Luffy interrupted as he entered in collision with your hugging forms, ready like always, to morph into a group hug. “ Come with me I want to show you something quick !”

“ Calm down Luffy, I'm coming ! “ Shanks answered, still keeping you in his arms, his thumbs caressing the small of your back. Watching the child run at the top of the sandy hill. “ Tell me you don’t do the night ship please...I think I could not endure another night without you” Your lover confesses, filling your heart with a warm sensation of love.

“ I’m on my break right now, come to the bar later, I will have a cold drink for you and when I have finished my work, we will enjoy the moonlight together “ You playfully replied, stealing another kiss.

“ I love you “ He simply said, as if it was the most natural thing in the world and Luffy wasn’t screaming his name again and again.

“ I love you too, now go before the kid decide to go recrute your crew and become the new captain of your ship “ You laugh, regretting immediately the warm of his body against yours.

“ I would love to see that “ He joined you in your laugh, finally following Luffy.

Sadly, your romantic moonlight plan takes a drastic turn when the bandit took Luffy, leading Shanks to lose an arm and take the most harsh decision of his life.

You knew at the minute that he stepped in the little pantry of the bar, his freshly missing arm wrapped by the doctor, that he wasn’t coming to bring you to the beach for a romantic moment. His expression was resolute but sad and his gaze was laying on you like if he was trying to burn your image in his brain forever.

“Y/N “He slowly said your name. “ I have to talk to you..”

“ You’re leaving... “ You realize by yourself, as his iconic straw hat wasn’t on his head and his fist was holding a golden bracelet “ No, I mean…I go with you Shanks. You will not abandon me here, like if we were nothing. “

“ Y/N, you were the most beautiful treasure I found but, I can’t offer you more than that ! It’s what I tried to teach Luffy. The life of a pirate isn’t a calm ride in a boat. You should set yourself up with somebody more stable, marry that son of a bitch of a merchant who always looks at you like if you aren’t mine...you will be happy and out of danger. “ He pleaded, trying to pass his valid arm around your waist as you resisted.

“ I won’t ! You promised to bring me with you ! I’m not interested in some boring merchant, I’m interested in you redhead stubborn donkey“ You angrily replied, taking his face in your hand, trying to bring him back to reason. “Is everything you told me was all pretty lies ?!”

“No, of course no. But I can’t assure your safety, How could I sleep at night If I lose you ! I almost lost the kid today “ He exclaimed, shame and pain flashing on his face as your heart bleed for him. But, as much as you knew how much he was caring for Luffy, you weren't him and you will not let the man you love go without you.

“ I’m not a child,I can defend myself and I will learn new skills to fight even better. I assure you, you will sleep well against me every night. “ You promised.” I will asked every member of your crew to teach me something new to defend myself and I will stay alive for your peace of mind”

“ You could regret it, you know ?“ He finally conceded, taking you closer, his forehead meeting yours, as he closed his eyes, defeated.

“ Never, if I became a little bored I could still annoy you to distract myself “ You joked, kissing his warm lips.

“ I had some better idea, but, sure “ He smiled amused, his thumbs doing a lazy circle on your back. .

“ You’re really incorrigible, you know that. '' You laugh, tears running down your cheeks as he caresses your face. “ Come with me, I have to go pack my things and I don’t trust you for not having a hero change of heart and leave without me “

“ You know me too well, I will have to watch my back on my own ship now “ He said, smiling tenderly, taking your hand to leave the small room.

Packing your life didn’t take you more than twenty minutes. As much as you loved this place, you were ready to follow Shanks and live something bigger than your current situation. After some word of advice from your old boss, you took the way to your new home.

“ Are you ready, love ? “ Shanks asked you, as he took your hand to help you come aboard. Making sure for the last time that you were sure of your choice.

Taking a last look at the port you know so well, you took his hand, jumped on the deck and smiled, letting your bag fall on the wooden floor.

“ I’m done waiting Shank, show me the world “ You said, as he joyfully laughed and shouted at the crew to lift the anchor.

The world was indeed beautiful, but for nothing you would come back to your little and quiet life. Like Shank had once said, being a pirate wasn’t like a tranquil boat ride on a quiet river, but with him at your side, you were ready for everything your new life had to offer.

Bonus :

You were sitting with him on the little beach, the day Mihawk brought the warrant for Luffy.

You never doubt that the little Luffy will one day succeed to follow the step of your lover. But nothing had prepared you for the burst of pride you felt when you saw the immense joy in the face of Shanks similar to the day of your wedding, when he had passed you the ring, linking your life forever.

“ Y/N ! The kid did it ! He’s a pirate !“

“ He had told you that he would surpass you “ You joked, kissing his cheeks. “ You teach him well, I hope seen him soon “

“ Me too” He smiled.

#OPLA #one piece netflix #Shanks #Shanks x reader #Opla! Shanks #one piece Shanks #red hair shanks #shanks one piece #Request

242 notes · View notes

borathae · 10 months

Text

↳ Index [Chapter 38 - Soulmates]

Warnings: just…softness and yoongie boongie :( and googie woogie :(, there is also Smut in this chapter but it’s not explicit, it’s more implied that she rides him but it’s not graphic you get me, either way they fucking deserve the fucking world, there will only be softness from now on

Wordcount: 10.3k

a/n: will i ever grow tired of writing them being touchy and in love? nope and nobody can stop me

You sometimes wonder how your life would have turned out had you stayed with your parents. Would you be happier or would you be living in your own personal Hell? Would your father still avoid looking into your eyes and would your mother still greet you by asking if you were finally doing something worthy with your life? Those are questions you know the answer to already. You would have escape nonetheless. One day, you would have left no matter what. You may not have ended up at this specific university with these specific secrets, but you still would have ended up somewhere else. Somewhere where people looked into your eyes and where simply being alive was already enough.

Being alive is a funny thing. Everything and everyone could kill you at any time. You breathe whilst sometimes feeling like drowning. Your heart beats even after getting it shattered. Your brain continues to produce thoughts, no matter how much one may beg it to stop. Your limbs continue working for as long as they are destined to work. And yet everything, every single thing works to one single goal. Death. That one day all this working may finally stop.

Death is an ever funnier thing. You wonder if you would look at it the way you do these days after everything you have been through. You wonder if you would still be as scared of it as you were back then, if you never knew how it feels to come so close to it. Maybe you would live happier though. Despite your fear. Maybe you wouldn’t have to think of all the lives you ended and just how death is certain for everyone. No matter if it comes in ten years, three days or five centuries. Everyone dies eventually.

Are you dead? Is that why you are thinking about it right now? Is this your brain’s last job? To make you think about how everyone dies? Didn’t people always say that one thinks of one's life if death was near? But what is there to think about really? Thinking about it hurts too much. Your grandmother left, your parents hated you and you failed to reunite the only family which felt like home. Yoongi. You failed to save him.

Your eyes open. The lights are so bright that it hurts. You blink to get rid of the pain. Wait a minute. You can’t be dead. You still feel like shit. This isn’t the afterlife, you’re still on earth.

Your vision returns to you and for just a second you wished that it would have given you a little more time to adjust. Yoongi is right there, sleeping on the pillow next to you and with his face glowing in life.

You want to call his name, but your voice doesn’t want to work. So you mouth his name as your hand reaches for his face to hold his cheek. You don’t even realise that your hand is healed. Taehyung must have used his blood to heal your burn marks. All you can concentrate on is Yoongi. He is still cold to the touch, but that doesn’t affect you. You are holding his face again and his cheek feels so soft in your palm and that was all that matters. It forces hot tears into your eyes. He is back.

You try his name again, but only manage to whimper. Yoongi reacts nonetheless.

He opens his eyes.

“Holy shit”, you finally get out. There they are. His dark brown eyes which always look at you with so much love.

Yoongi blinks at you slowly, fingers intertwining with yours just seconds later. He hums. It was a small sound, quiet and barely there, but it overwhelms you nonetheless.

“Yoong-” is all you get out and then you break into tears. Happiness, pain, relief. They are a little bit of everything and so much more.

Yoongi doesn’t say anything as his own tears overwhelm him before he could speak.

You draw closer, holding each other as tightly as you can. And then you cry. You know not for how long, but that doesn’t matter because you finally had each other to hold again. You find unconsciousness that way and it feels good to do because you had each other to hold.

You feel a little better when you open your eyes again. Yoongi is still sleeping, looking peaceful and healthy. His pink lips are parted slightly, his dark lashes rest against his ivory cheeks. He looks so, so healthy again. Holy fuck, he is here. Yoongi is actually with you again. You reach out to touch his cheek, making sure that he was real.

Yoongi opens his eyes. He smiles with them, humming softly. Like this, his cheeks puff out. You caress it softly, feeling so close to tears.

“Are you real?” you ask him in a shaking voice.

He nods his head slowly.

“I feel like I’m dreaming. Please say something, please.”

Yoongi blinks slowly. You feel dizzy in anticipation.

“Anything please.”

“I missed you so much, my love”, he finally says and the sound of his voice makes you tear up instantly. This is it. This is exactly how Yoongi sounds. This is your Yoongi talking. He is actually here.

“It’s really you”, you press out, having to sob, “Yoongi, it’s really you.”

“Yes. It’s me.”

“Holy fuck, Yoongi. I love you”, you press out, “I love you so much.”

“I love you too.”

“Are, are you real?”

“Yes”, Yoongi says and closes his eyes as you run your fingers over his face obsessively.

“I can’t believe that I did it. I saved you.”

“You did.”

“Did, did I actually do it?”

“You did.”

“Holy fuck, I did it. My love, I want to cry I did it."

Yoongi smiles when you squeeze his cheek gently. He looks at you, feeling so happy that he wants to jump up and dance. But he can’t. His body feel so weak and tired that he can’t even find strength in himself to draw closer to you. So he has to lay here and allow you to touch him softly and he has no problem doing that. It feels like a dream to him. A beautiful, sweet dream. Your eyes race over his face without stopping, your fingers are clammy in emotion.

“Please say something only the real Yoongi knows. Just anything. I, I don’t believe that this is real.”

“Mhm, I can’t think of anything.”

“Just anything please.”

Yoongi gazes at your eyes deeply and adoringly. His lips curl into a warm smile.

“You’re my land”, he whispers.

“Yoongi”, you breathe, feeling lightheaded from all the emotions in your body.

He grins shyly, “I was really drunk back then.”

“Yoongi, you’re my land too”, you say, scooting closer, “Yoongi, you are really back. Oh my love, my beloved prince”, you trace his cheekbone, “you are truly back. Oh, I thought that I would never see you again. Did you feel anything when you were sleeping?”

He nods his head, “it felt like I was trapped in my own body.”

“Holy shit, oh no my prince. W-were you in pain?”

Yoongi hesitates for a second before he dismisses you with a shake of his head, “that doesn’t matter anymore.”

“So you were. Oh Yoongi”, you whimper, “I’m so sorry, I should have been faster. I, I should have-”

“Hush”, Yoongi silences you with a gentle touch to your temple, “you did more than enough. Way more”, he says and furrows his brows in worry, “you look so tired, my love.”

“I am. I’m so tired”, you say and smile, “but that’s okay to be, because I can be tired now.”

“Yes, you can. I’ll keep you safe.”

“And I’ll keep you safe”, you say, making his eyes fill with the softest of fondness.

“You will”, he whispers, closing the distance between you and him to kiss the slope of your nose.

“I, I’ll keep you safe from, from everything. I, I never want you to, to go through that a-again. I promise you, I’ll do everything in my power to keep you safe”, you are almost stumbling over the words from just how quickly you speak them.

Yoongi merely hums and kisses your forehead, pulling you against his chest afterwards.

“I fucking missed you”, he whispers.

“I missed you too. Oh god, Yoongi, I-I thought that I lost you already. It hurt so much.”

“I know. It hurt me too, my love. Listening to you cry so much while I couldn’t do anything felt like torture.”

“You heard me?” you gasp, lifting your head from the safety of his chest in order to look into his eyes.

“Yes, every word.”

“So you know about what I am?”

“Yes”, Yoongi answers you, tracing your cheek with his thumb. It seems that he can’t stop touching you and neither can you, tracing his cheek while your other hand rests on his strong chest.

“And about the...things I did?”

“Yes.”

“Oh”, you let out, swallowing nervously, “what do you think of it?”

“How do you feel about it?”

“I don’t know. In denial?” you laugh breathily, “I didn’t have time to process any of the hundreds and thousands of things which happened. I’ve been stuck in that day for nine weeks and everything which happened in those weeks felt like a weird dream.”

“Mhm”, he acknowledges you, “it’s okay to feel that way. A lot happened, didn’t it?”

“Yes. So much.”

“We’ll sort through it together. One thing at a time, yeah?”

“Yoongi”, you whimper, feeling your eyes fill with tears again.

“Hey, it’s okay. Don’t cry.”

“I’m just so tired and, and now you’re back and I feel like a weak, little plop of exhaustion. Fuck, I had so much stuff planned which I wanted to do with you once you’re back, but I’m just so tired.”

“I’m sorry.”

“Sorry? For what? For making me want to fall asleep? Holy fuck, I haven’t slept properly in weeks. And, and now I just want to keep sleeping while I hold you. I don’t feel burdened anymore.”

Yoongi smiles softly, “that doesn’t sound that bad then”, he whispers, eyes lighting up as his smile spreads over his face, “we could sleep together. I feel tired too.”

“You do?”

He nods his head slowly, “I couldn’t even get up to hunt, they had to feed me blood bags.”

“Oh, my love. I’m so sorry.”

“It’s okay. I’ll sleep it off. As should you.”

“I agree, I feel so sick.”

Yoongi furrows his brows in worry.

“But that’s okay. I’ll sleep it off, just as you will.”

Yoongi smiles and so do you.

“So we should get comfy, shouldn’t we?” you say and giggle.

“That sounds like a plan”, Yoongi whispers, shimmying closer until his lips are touching the bridge of your nose. He gives you a little kiss, “like this?”

“Yes”, you close your eyes, nuzzling closer, “yes, just like this.” And in the tiniest voice you could produce, you add your most honest “I love you.”

“I love you too”, Yoongi answers you, voice barely above a whisper for he knew that he didn’t need to shout for his whole world to hear him.

You drift off to sleep together just seconds later. You won’t notice it, but the sun will rise and set once before you even as much as change into a different position. Taehyung and Jimin will check up on you during that time, but seeing how peacefully you slumbered in each others’ arms they let you sleep and left again.

It is snowing outside when you wake up again. The room is dark, except for the moon shining into the windows. Its light is weak as the thick snow clouds keep it hidden. Yoongi moved his head just enough that his lips are on your forehead now. His fingers are deep in your hair, holding you close. You love this so much. But as much as you love it, you also need to change the position a little. Your shoulder aches from not moving it for hours. It wakes Yoongi, who ends up peeling his eyes open sleepily before he groans.

“My neck is killing me”, he complains, rolling it as best as possible.

“Same, my shoulder hurts”, you say.

He chuckles, rolling to his back. You do the same, stretching yourself.

“Uff now I’m dizzy”, you whine.

“Are you okay?” Yoongi asks, rolling onto his tummy and propping himself up on his elbows to study your features.

“Yes, gosh”, you place your hand over your mouth, “don’t come so close, I feel like I have the worst breath ever. My mouth feels like cardboard.”

Yoongi chuckles, reaching over to the bedside table to get you the bottle of water Jungkook left as he checked on you. He opens it for you.

“Drink that, it’ll help.”

“Thanks”, you murmur into your hand and sit up to drink. You hand it to Yoongi once you finished half of it.

“Thanks”, he accepts it, drinking it gladly.

“We must have slept for a few hours, it’s already dark outside”, you say.

“Yeah right? That must have been the deepest sleep ever, I feel so out of it”, he says with the left side of his hair completely dented.

“Yeah same. It feels like I slept for days.”

“Same.”

You and him exchange a look, drawing closer afterwards. The yearning was just too strong. Yoongi leans in.

“Oh wait”, you place your hand over your mouth again.

“Oh shut up with your bad breath insecurity, you think I care right now?” he complains in a laugh, tugging your hand away from your lips to instead claim them in a kiss. He wraps his arms around you, placing his hand on the back of your head.

You swear that in this moment colour returns to your world and warmth claims your skin again. He is kissing you again. Yoongi is kissing you. You whimper, wrapping your arms around him to press him as close as possible. You are kissing Yoongi again. This is actually happening.

He purrs, closing his hand around your side right under your arm. The squeeze he gives you, lets you know that he feels just as deeply about the situation as you do. You are back with him. He had to go weeks without you, haunted by your voice and tortured by constant pain.

You are wiping all of this away again. No more pain and agony. Your kiss heals him, your touch keeps him safe. And Yoongi feels overwhelmed. Overwhelmed by how happy he feels and how fucking grateful he is to be loved by you.

He chases you. Needs you closer. He chases you and chases you and chases you until you fall into the sheets and he has to climb on top of you. Atop your lap and with your arms hooked behind his neck, he finds his home, running his hands over the paths of your body. He still remembers his way. He was scared that he would forget, but he didn’t. All those paths and spots and places still feel familiar to his fingers. And tonight, in this snowy moonlit night, the journey leaves Yoongi trembling in intensity. He has to touch you or else he would crumble. And so he does. He keeps on feeling you, exploring you, touching you and messing with your head in the process.

You stopped caring about yourself in those past nine weeks. Your body, your skin, your lips. You didn’t want to be touched. It wasn’t important to you. The comfort it would have brought you felt wrong to you. And Yoongi is touching you. He is kissing you whilst helping your skin remember just how wonderful it feels to receive loving touches. And it was Yoongi doing it, the one person you yearned for the most. Yoongi is helping you remember again and you don’t know if you can handle that.

You think you can’t. Every touch leaves behind traces of warmth and comfort and electricity. Sparks and sparks of electricity which linger on your skin and reawaken your need to be touched. You think that you would die if he stopped right now. You are so starved for tenderness. So fucking starved.

Yoongi breaks the kiss, but stays close. Touching and feeling your skin while his lips dance to your neck. This is his place, his home, the spot he can return to whenever he wants to because you made it his’. Your fingers tell him that you waited for him painfully much, tangling in his hair and keeping him close that way. The sensation of it sends tears to Yoongi’s eyes. It feels so good to feel something other than pain in his head and to know that you are giving it to him. Comfort. The remedy that heals you as well.

His hair feels so soft again. You were so blinded by your grief that you always pretended that his hair felt the same when he was passed out, but your fingers always knew. Each time you ran them through his hair they told your heart the truth while your heart refused to listen. His hair wasn’t soft anymore, but now it is. Now your heart can feel it too. Life has returned to Yoongi and with it, the softness of his hair. You want to never let it go again, twist it and hold it and keep him close that way. His lips kiss away the aches in your neck. You were in constant pain. Tense from falling asleep over your books or straight up passing out on the floor again and tight from the worry torturing your head. Yoongi kisses your skin and helps relaxation return to the aching spots. No more tension, no more aches, just his lips helping your skin remember how to feel and soothing your thoughts with it.

He can smell it too. He is drowning in you. You smell so happy and relieved. And you are soaked in love. It is suffocating him and Yoongi wants it to happen. He wants to suffocate in your scent. This is all he ached for ever since the cursed wood dug into his lungs and burned them painfully. To know that after all the torture, the first scent he can take in is your happiness and love brings new tears to Yoongi’s eyes.

He whimpers softly. He has to be closer to you. Why can’t he be closer to you? Your arms are around him, your hands are feeling his skin and your warmths melt into one and yet it is still not enough to him. You are so far gone. Yoongi can’t handle it.

He wraps his arms around you, presses you against his chest, sobs your name.

“I have to be closer”, he begs, “please pull me closer.”

“Yoongi”, you whimper, wrapping your arms around him and squeezing him against your chest. You even lift your head enough that you can bury your face in the crook of his neck. Yoongi holds your head instantly, taking the weight for you as his face disappears in the crook of your shoulder.

Closer. So much closer. And yet not close enough.

For neither of you. The distance was to grande those past few weeks. Not even this hug can heal your hearts.

“Closer”, you beg, “Yoongi please closer.”

“I don’t know how”, he whimpers, “princess, please”, he begs, cradling you against him desperately.

You slip your hand from his back just to twist a bundle of his boxer shorts. The message is clear to him. You have found a way. It is the only way.

Your eyes meet. Yoongi seems in disbelief that you could want something like this. He thought about it, but didn’t dare to voice it, scared that he might ruin the healing moment you and he are sharing.

“Are you sure?” he asks.

“I have never been more certain. You?”

He nods his head vigorously and climbs off your lap. He falls to his back and lifts his legs, taking off his briefs that way. You do the same with your pajamas shorts.

Yoongi sits up, looks at your bared middle. You do the same. One second. Eyes meet again. The contact is real. His eyes are so beautiful.

He reaches out and tugs at your shirt. You know what to do. Yoongi knows as well. No insecurities plague him. Not when being naked with you is all he wants to experience.

You climb atop his lap once you rid yourselves of your barriers. They kept you so far, far away from each other. You finally realise how big the gap between you was once you fall back into a hug and your naked chests touch.

“Yoongi”, you sob instantly, holding him with shaking fingers, “Yoongi, I love you.”

You don’t even notice how cold skin was right now. He feels warm and perfect to you. And in this moment you realise that it was never his warmth that kept you so comforted, but the softness of his skin. It wasn’t his warmth, but his touch. It has always been him that made you feel so much that you would run out of words before you managed to describe it.

“I love you too”, Yoongi sobs quietly, soiling your shoulder with his tears as the overwhelming sensation of being naked with you drags him down. He has to rest his cheek against you, grasping you with trembling fingers because if he wouldn’t, he would break into a million pieces. You are so warm in contrast to him. Yoongi hasn’t felt that warm in weeks. And in this moment he realises that he feels temperature as long as he is close to you. He could be lost in the deepest snow storm or stranded in the hottest deserts and he wouldn’t feel a thing. But ever since he learned of your warmth, Yoongi cares about temperature. He feels cold when he is without you and warm when he is reunited with you. And in this moment, he finally stops shivering.

“Closer my love, please I’m begging you”, he pleads, shaking in sobs.

And so you take that last step. One last step. You hope that it is enough. It would break you if it wasn’t. You hold him close and take him inside and in this moment it wasn’t for pleasure, it was for connection.

He fills you up in his entirety instantly, helping you remember yet another part of yourself you forgot. You feel warm between your legs when you can be with Yoongi. Not only in a pleasurable way, but more than anything in a sense of living kind of way. As if your purpose on this earth was to be connected with him. As if in those short and long moments where your bodies are the closest they can get, your souls are finally one again.

“___”, Yoongi sobs, lifting his head.

“Yoongi”, you whimper, spilling tears when he cups your cheeks.

“Please don’t leave me again”, he begs.

“Why would I? Yoongi, all I want in life is to be with you”, you choke out and sob.

“My beloved”, he breathes, eyes falling closed and as his instincts to love you kick in, he kisses you. He kisses you with the intent of never letting you go again. And you kiss him back with the same intent, holding him close while your bodies connected in instinctive rolls of your hips.

And again. It wasn’t for pleasure, but for connection. It was lost to you for weeks and now you have to make sure that nothing can ever shatter it again. The pleasure that comes with the repair is an unavoidable side product. Intense and deep and real. So goddamn fucking real.

Everything about this. It’s real. Your connection, your interwoven souls and the pleasure. Nothing ever felt as fucking real as being with Yoongi does.

Real and right.

So goddamn right.

And as he hugs you closer and kisses you and you finally feel whole again, you finally start to believe what Jimin told you all those endless days ago. No matter when or where, you were destined to meet Yoongi. No matter how long it would have taken or what form you would have possessed, your souls would have found each other because this is why they were brought onto this earth. And they would have turned into one again, colliding like two stars and together they would have filled the endless void with new galaxies and light.

This was always destined to happen.

Your souls were far apart once. Born at different times and different places and yet they found together. Many, many circles around the sun passed and with it your souls came closer and closer until they finally met when they were destined to meet.

You and Yoongi are right and you are real and this is exactly how it was always supposed to be.

“You feel so good”, he sobs, “you feel so fucking good.”

“You too”, you cry, “you feel so good too.”

“Please”, he begs, “please don’t stop.”

“I can’t stop. I couldn’t. Yoongi, I can’t stop.”

His hands are without home on your body. No rest. No pause. No break. They can’t stop exploring you. Feeling you. Remembering you.

And in the process, they help you to remember as well. How it is to be adored and loved and cherished. How it is to be mapped out to make sure he will always know where to touch. How it is to speak the same language of love.

And being touched and touching in return will always be one of the most intense yet comforting languages to speak with Yoongi.

You were on the brink of forgetting it these past nine weeks, but you remember again.

When his hands are on your hips and hold your waist, you know that you will always be taken care of. When his hands are closing around you in a tight hug, nothing can hurt you. When they cradle your face or caress your neck, you feel fragile but treasured. And when they intertwine with yours, you feel whole.

And in return, you remember that Yoongi shivers when you run your hands up and down his back. That he instinctively hugs you whenever you merely hint at hugging him. That he looks up at you with sparkling, adoring eyes when you cradle his cheeks. And that he whimpers softly whenever you hold his hands.

And tonight he looks up at you with his right arm around your waist and his left hand pressing your hand against his chest and as he does, he cries miserably. Tears cover his cheeks and his lips tremble unstoppably. And you think that you have never seen something as beautiful as this. He is here again and he is alive.

His hips still chase you. As are yours chasing his’.

“Please, p-please don’t leave me again”, Yoongi hiccups.

You shake your head vigorously, sobbing miserably.

“Please promise me.”

“I promise.”

Yoongi truly sobs. Like a little boy finally breaking under the pain. He pulls you close and buries his face in your neck. His hips speed up, his arms tense around you in their desperate attempt to melt with you.

“I love you”, he wails.

“I love you too”, you cry, hugging him back.

You find the highest form of pleasure very soon. It wasn’t the goal and yet it was destined to happen. The crescendo and very last attempt to deepen the connection. Just as Yoongi promises you with desperate shakes and a tight hug, you promise him with trembling fingers in his hair and his name at the tip of your tongue. You won’t lose each other again. Lights flicker around you as the emotion of being with him again overwhelms you. Yoongi holds you closer, keeping you with him, loving you just as deeply and it was okay again. You are okay again and it feels so goddamn good to be okay again.

You don’t leave his lap once you stopped shaking. You can’t leave it yet. You have to stay close and make sure that he won’t slip away again, crying into his shoulder because it seems that you just can’t stop crying.

And Yoongi holds you through it all, trying to comfort you whilst crying himself. He knows why he can’t stop. He doesn’t want to tell you, because he knows that it would break your heart, but Yoongi hasn’t felt that much physical pain in countless centuries than when he was trapped in this magical realm and crying is the only way to get over those memories. That and he was happy to be with you again. His most beloved person and the only thing that could heal even the deepest wounds.

You picked up the messy, scattered fragments of him and glued them together again until you created a picture of him which was beautiful and worthy of love, but most of all which, was always supposed to be yours. Your little picture to keep in your heart.

That is why Yoongi cries. Because he is relieved to know that he is yours.

“Yoongi, I feel so happy”, you confess, laughing and sobbing at the same time.

“Me too, my princess”, he agrees, rubbing his hands up and down your back just to make sure that you are real. It wouldn’t be the first time that he tried to escape into his memories. So many times Yoongi tried to flee into his favourite moments with you and for just a few moments they brought solace to him until the torment of his state dragged him away again and he was reminded that you were far, far gone from him.

This time around you feel real. Your skin is soft and warm and your scent is real. And yet somehow Yoongi still doesn’t believe it. He just mended the connection with you and yet he is still scared that the torture wasn’t over yet.

He lifts his head, cradling your face in his tender, loving hands. His thumbs run over your cheekbones, his eyes race between yours.

“This is real, isn’t it? I won’t be dragged away again, will I?” he asks. Pleads.

“Dragged away?” you furrow your brows in worry, “my love, what happened in there?”

“I just don’t want to lose you again”, this is all he can confess for everything else tasted too bitter to allow it to grace his tongue.

“And you won’t. Oh my love”, you cup his cheeks and it feels real to Yoongi. New droplets of tears run down your cheeks, “I dreamed of you whenever I fell asleep. I was with you and you were healthy and in those moments, it felt so real until I woke again and you were gone.”

Yoongi feels short of breath. He doesn’t dare to imagine the possibility that somehow through destined connection you managed to meet in those moments. When he fled into his memories and you fled into your dreams, your souls still found a way to meet and that in those short moments of your endless torments, you were connected again.

“I thought of you too”, he confesses because maybe not speaking his thoughts out loud would hurt more, “I met you in my memories and we were happy until I was dragged away again and…” he lowers his eyes, “I don’t want to experience what I had to endure ever again. That’s all you have to know”, he whispers.

“Oh my beloved”, you press out, deepening the touch to his face and with it tilting his head up, “it’s all over now. You don’t have to hurt anymore and I don’t know have to hurt anymore and, and we won’t have to meet in dreams again.”

Yoongi widens his eyes.

“So you think?” he begins.

The connection he feels in your eyes seems to strengthen. You both feel breathless because of it and yet don’t want to look away.

“Maybe?” you answer him.

“My love”, he whispers shakily.

“It would make the memory of those long weeks easier to bear, wouldn’t it?” you say.

He nods his head, lips curling into an honest and warm smile.

You smile, leaning closer.

He meets you in the middle, eyes falling closed when you stub his nose with your own. Your fingers caress his cheeks and Yoongi is melting, caressing your face gently with the hopes that you feel as good as he does.

“That felt like heaven”, he whispers, “what we just did, I mean.”

“Yes, it did”, you agree, eyes closed and skin tingling from his touches.

“Sorry for the crying”, he jokes, making you chuckle.

“Yeah, same”, you say, “I think that we needed it. I feel so much better now.”

“Me too.”

Your stomach lets you know that it felt better as well. Better, which in your case meant, starved. All the tension keeping you fed is gone and your stomach is finally telling you how it is.

“Oh my god”, you gasp.

“That was so loud”, Yoongi says, opening his eyes just to look at you.

“I haven’t had a proper appetite for weeks. I think it’s biting me in the butt now”, you confess.

“Princess”, he says with slight disappointment in his voice.

“Don’t princess me, I was so worried for you that food made me want to throw up”, you say with your stomach rumbling again.

Yoongi touches it gently, rubbing his hand back and forth slowly.

“Should we get food, my love?” he asks you in a soft voice.

You nod your head, “yeah, I guess”, you murmur shyly.

“Yeah? That’s good, I can’t have my princess starving”, he says, making you giggle because he is so gentle and loving and that feels so good to experience.

And so it happens that you and Yoongi clean up together and get dressed in your warmest clothes to take the car to the gas station. And you wander through the place holding hands and giggling like little kids because it felt so goddamn nice to be here together. The clerk still remembered you and he greets you with a big smile and contrary to last year, Yoongi greets him back with a brighter smile, leaving him a big tip because he felt like it. Then he took the bag and your hand and left the gas station kissing your cheek and the clerk watched you with great awe. She must have done good things for his heart, he thought and then allowed the fifty bucks to slip into his pants pockets.

“It’s snowing”, Yoongi says once outside, twirling around before pulling you close with his hands on your waist, “it’s beautiful, isn’t it?”

“Yes, it is”, you say, touching him because this is all you wanted to do.

“Who would have thought that it will snow again. Right here” Yoongi says, “maybe this gas station is our spot.”

You smile, hooking your fingers behind his neck to pull him into a kiss. One Yoongi retorts happily, hugging you against him with his strong arms cradling you safely. You pull back, but stay close enough that your breaths intermingle into on united puff of white cloud.

“I wanna fucking spend eternity with you, Min Yoongi.”

“Good, ‘cause I wanna fucking spend eternity with you too, ___.”

You giggle and Yoongi smiles.

“And then each year we have to come to this gas station when it snows and kiss.”

“Deal”, Yoongi says, resting his forehead against yours.

Your eyes close at the same time. He cups your cheek, you do the same to him.

“Forever”, Yoongi whispers.

“Forever”, you promise him.

He kisses the tip of your nose, giggling when you reciprocate it. He makes you smile and kiss him again just because he is so adorable when he giggles.

“You’re so cute”, he says.

“You’re cuter”, you answer him.

“Mhm”, he lets out, opening his eyes, “we should probably leave now”, he whispers.

“Why?”

“There’s someone looking at us. He thinks that we’re cringe.”

“He’s cringe for thinking that”, you say, sending a look at the stranger. It flusters him to the point of looking away and trotting off. “Yeah exactly run away, you coward. I could make your brain come out of your nose if I wanted to”, you murmur.

“Okay, let’s not”, Yoongi says in a chuckle, tugging you with him gently, “let’s get you home before you commit magical murder at our spot.”

“In theory you started this trend when you punched off that guy’s head last year.”

“I only did that to keep you safe. Stop acting as if I did that just for fun”, he laughs, pulling you into him with his arm around your shoulder and his hand rubbing your upper arm.

“Be honest, you also did it to impress me.”

“And even if I did. Would that be so bad?”

You snicker, kissing his cheek. “No”, you say, “you’re so cool Yoongie Boongie.”

“This nickname is so silly”, he whispers, leaning in for a second kiss.

“You love it, don’t you?”

“Yes, I do”, he says, blushing vividly when you kiss him a third and for now last time. You probably would have continued kissing his cheek if you hadn’t arrived by his car and therefore had to get inside.

Yoongi turns to you once in the car. Your eyes meet. It never gets boring. Connecting with him through nothing but a look. Each time you do, it becomes more exciting.

Your bodies act at the same time. While Yoongi takes your face and leans in for a kiss, your body instinctively knew that it had to prepare for a kiss. Your eyes fall closed even before Yoongi’s lips touch yours and your heart is skipping beats after beats.

Yoongi and you moan into the kiss. The sound wasn’t for pleasure but for connection. To be with each other again leaves you unable to process it unless you make sounds.

He leaves his seat and climb over the gear stick so he can sit on your lap.

A loud honk startles you both.

His butt hit the steering wheel. He is halfway atop of you.

“You think someone heard us?”

“Yeah probably. Who fucking cares.”

“Right”, he agrees, “but still, we have to go home.”

“You were the one who kissed me first.”

“I can’t stop. I missed you so much.”

“I missed you too.”

Yoongi cups your cheek and sit down on you with his right arm around your waist and his big hand on your hip. His crotch presses against your tummy. The lose sweats he wears are doing nothing to hide him from you. He currently feels so soft there. Softness against your tummy and his weight on your lap. This makes you feels so good that it gets hard to breathe.

“I want more kisses”, he says, running his right hand to your face to caress it. His eyes are switching between yours and your lips. The orange lights from outside make them sparkle. You forgot how incredibly cute his nose looks and how pretty he is up close. You are fighting for air once more.

“We should get home, shouldn’t we?” you tell him, feeling up his hips and butt.

“Why do you not want to kiss me?” he asks and his eyes fill with tears, “did I do some-”

You interrupt him with the most passionate kiss. Yoongi whimpers, pulling you closer instinctively. His head is turning and air is sparse. He hopes it always stays this way. He had to suffer through weeks of suffocation and yet it feels good to be sparse of air now that he is kissing you.

“You didn’t”, you whisper, “but people are so close.”

Yoongi’s eyes drift outside. Yours do the same. The gas station is only a few steps away. There are five people inside and the clerk. They live their lives while outside in the snowy parking lot, you and Yoongi share kisses on the passenger seat of his car.

Yoongi looks back at you. You are gazing up at him with a fond smile on your lips and your eyes lowered halfway.

“Too many people?” you ask him.

But he shakes his head, “just let me be with you.”

“What if they see us?”

“Then let them stare”, Yoongi says and pulls you back into a kiss.

“Yeah, let them stare”, you murmur, pulling his hips snug against your body.

Yoongi moans into you, chasing you with wiggles of his hips and his arms closing around you in a hug.

Somehow in the journey of becoming one again, you manage to climb to the backseats. And you manage to slide down your pants just far enough that your connection can become as deep as it can get. And once again, it wasn’t for pleasure but for connection. However, neither you nor he could deny how much more desire there was in the movement. Your connection was being mended again, but it was also obvious to both that the need for pleasure was slowly returning to you and him.

Kiss breaks for air were spread throughout the heated moments and the once miserable sobs were replaced by breathy moans and gasps of each other’s names. Hands, once desperate to remember the language of touch, now grasp the other whenever bolds of warmth spread through your bodies. And eyes gaze at each other and meet hazy, intense pleasure in the gazes.

Your bodies and souls are slowly but surely healing. Your hearts are slowly but surely accepting that this was your reality again. That you and he were truly together again. And when that acceptance washed over you, you grabbed the handle and showed Yoongi how good you could love him while Yoongi forgot how to speak and trembled beneath you.

By the time you find your highs together, the windows are fogged up and snow covers the windscreen. And somehow, through the magical wonder of being with his soulmate, Yoongi’s once cold body managed to heat up enough that he felt warm to the touch. You also magically turned the hazard lights on without wanting to. They are now blinking and blinking and blinking away.

You sink into Yoongi. Your hand slips from the window, only an imprint in the fog remains. The car is filled with your quickened breathing and the rhythmic clicking of the hazard lights as you recover. Yoongi caresses your back, basking in your scent. He feels so intoxicated when he is with you. For a short moment, he wonders how he managed to be with you in the past without feeling dizzy all the time. And then he pulls you closer and buries his nose in the crook of your neck just to get even more of your scent.

“I can’t stop”, he murmurs into you.

“Don’t apologise. Neither can I.”

“I’m so scared to wake up.”

“This isn’t a dream.”

“It feels like one.”

You lift your head and look into his eyes. The connection, like always, is intense and leaves you wanting for the moment to last forever.

“I know it’s not my memories, but what if they are? I’m scared that I’m remembering”, he confesses.

“This isn’t a memory, my beloved love.”

“So you feel like a dream. You actually do.”

“You feel like a dream too. But then”, you furrow your brows, “no. No you don’t feel like a dream, you feel like home.”

“Home?”

“Home means feeling safe and as if no obstacle is too big because you have a place to call home.”

“I’m your home?”

“You’re my home. I never had a home. At least not one which made me feel safe and where I could settle for the day. You’re my home and I wanna make sure that you are always well taken care of. That’s what you do with a well loved home, you take care of it and you make memories with it and you know that you'll always return to it no matter how far you go.”

“___.”

You smile, “you’re my home, Min Yoongi”, you whisper and add, “you’re my home and I’m your land. I think that’s nice to be.”

“___”, Yoongi presses out, “___ please don’t ever leave me.”

“I won’t. I won’t ever leave you. You’re my home, remember?”

He nods his head and picks you up just to lie down on the backseat with you. He manages to do so in a way that allows him to nuzzle his face against your neck. He does so shuddering and with his fingers squeezing you.

“Please hold me for a while.”

And you do so gladly, finding refuge in the knowledge that the weight you feel on your chest tonight wasn’t because of heartbreaking failure but because of your healed and healthy Yoongi.

You hold hands as he drives you home, just as you hold hands as you both carry the grocery bag to the kitchen. It wasn’t heavy, you just didn’t want to stop touching each other.

The estate was still asleep. Not that you tried calling out for the others, but they definitely would have already come running had they heard you come out of the garage chatting about the heavy snowfall.

You don’t mind that everyone is still sleeping. Perhaps you are even a little happy about it. All you really want to do is spend time with him. With your Yoongi. No other distraction. Just you and him. You wished for such a moment for way too long.

“I need to drink something, no joke, I’m so freaking thirsty”, you say once you are in the kitchen, hurrying to the sink to get some water.

“You really should. It’s good for you”, Yoongi says, working to empty the groceries in the meantime. He stores everything in the fridge, except for what you will need for your pasta.

“Do you think that I had a fever? I swear I had to have something, I’ve never been that thirsty before.”

“It could be. You were really hot when I held you.”

“Mhm”, you acknowledge him and then down two glasses of fresh water. You set down the glass with a sigh, “that felt good. Do you want a glass too?”

“No, I’m good. Come help me with the bacon, love.”

“Of course, what do you need?” you hurry to his side.

“Look, I don’t know if I can cut it alone. I need your help”, he says, making you snicker because you figure out instantly that it was all just a scheme.

“Poor boy, of course I can help”, you say, placing your hands over Yoongi’s to help him cut.

This only really lasts a second and then Yoongi is nudging you with his nose, giggling as he searches for your lips. You let him find you instantly, giggling just as much. The bacon sits forgotten instantly as you turn to hook your arms behind Yoongi’s head and he twirls you just so he can lift you up on the kitchen island.

“Mhm, my prince”, you break the kiss, “will we ever get to cook?”

“I don’t know”, Yoongi rubs his cheek against yours like a cuddly cat, “can you feel my lashes?” he asks, tickling your cheek with them by blinking quickly.

“Yes, I can”, you squeak out, squishing his cheeks, “why did you do that?”

“I don’t know, I wanted to test it out”, he says, “do me”, he orders, leaning in to present his cheek to you.

“Oh my god, you are so fucking cute, I can’t fucking breathe”, you say, leaning in to connect your lashes with his cheek, “and?” you ask after blinking quickly.

“I felt it”, he scratches the spot you touched, “it tickled.”

“Yeah”, you say and giggle, “Yoongi my cutie Boongie why are you so cute?”

“I always was.”

“Oh? So we’re not denying it anymore?”

Yoongi glances at you sheepishly, leaning his weight on your thighs so he can snatch a kiss from you.

“Just tonight. I haven’t felt that alive in weeks.”

“Quite literally.”

He laughs, nodding his head in passionate agreement.

“I’m happy that you are, you know? And I’ll keep telling you that I am a million times more.”

“Good, I’ll keep telling you that I’m the luckiest man ever”, he says, picking you up from the counter just so he can hold you instead.

“You are?” you ask him, legs wrapped around his waist and hands tracing his neck and shoulders.

He nods his head, eyes lighting up as they race over your face. He likes that he has to look up at you that way. Because he does. He looks up at you so very much. You did all of that for him. You searched heaven and hell for a cure. You did that because you loved him so much that you didn’t want to let go. Yoongi always thought that he was destined to never experience such a love in his life. But here you are. Holding onto him as you are in his arms and he can look up at you.

“You’re so sweet”, you whisper, cupping his cheeks in your soft palms.

Yoongi leans into your touch as his eyes fall closed. He turns his head, placing a kiss on your palm and afterwards, he rubs the tip of his nose against it. Slow and gentle. To really savour the feeling of you.

“Mhm”, Yoongi hums in a smile, setting you down on the floor after kissing you once more. He swears that this is the last time. Yes, he will break that promise ten seconds from now when you try to cut the bacon again and he steals a sneaky kiss instead.

You squeak and giggle, “fleeing” from him by leaning into the kiss. Yoongi steals it successfully, giggling deeply as he rubs his nose against your cheek. You are so happy. So, so happy that you somehow manage to turn on the stove. Yoongi notices it instantly and turns it off again.

Your eyes meet.

“Did I do that?”

“Yeah.”

“But I didn’t even do anything.”

“It’s okay. I turned it off again.”

You gnaw on your lower lip shyly.

“Hey, it’s seriously okay.”

“Yoongi, I think I can’t control my magic”, you confess, “Meredith told me that I have lots of chaos in my head.”

“She did?”

You nod your head, “I can’t control my magic. I keep turning on lights and, and stuff. But only since you’re back. Before that, it was always…it was only in bad moments and when I needed to save you.”

“You triggered your magic when I was dying and then kept pushing yourself to do stuff you weren’t ready for yet. No wonder it is chaotic right now. Don’t worry, my love. I’m here now and we can fix this.”

“Can we really? I’m so scared that I’ll hurt you or the others because I can’t control myself.”

“You won’t hurt me. Trust me, nothing will hurt as much as-”, he hesitates and lets out a breathy laugh, sending you a helpless look.

You understand and cup his cheeks, caressing them softly.

“You won’t have to return to that place. I promise you.”

He nods his head, pressing out a small, “okay.” Then he lowers his eyes.

“Talk to me.”

“It’s nothing. I just…it will take some time not to remember how it felt.”

“And I’ll be with you the entire time, so don’t hold back on crying or, or asking for help. Yes?”

“Yes”, he whispers and rests his forehead against yours, “thank you.”

“Don’t. I’ll always be there for you.”

“Guys?”

You and Yoongi turn upon hearing Jungkook’s voice.

“Holy shit, since w-when? Oh my fucking god”, Jungkook gets out and then he is already by your side, having both you and Yoongi in a tight hug, “you’re finally awake oh my god”, he chokes out and sobs loudly, “you are finally awake! Oh god, I can’t believe this i-is real.”

“You’re acting as if you didn’t talk to me a few hours ago”, Yoongi laughs, rubbing Jungkook’s back.

“A few hours??” Jungkook lifts his head, showing you his teary eyes, “it’s been three days.”

“What? Three days?”

Jungkook steps back, nodding his head with his brows furrowed in seriousness.

“You guys slept for three whole days. We kept on checking on you, but you were both out cold and nothing we did could wake you. Oh god, I was so scared that you were gone. I can’t believe that you’re here again.”

“Three days”, you say, looking at Yoongi and realising that he is doing the same, “no wonder we feel that done.”

“Yeah”, Yoongi agrees and chuckles.

“I guess you guys really needed that sleep. You both look a lot better than you did three days ago”, Jungkook says, reaching for both of you, “I’m sorry, I gotta make sure that you’re actually here. Holy fuck”, he says and spills tears, “oh god, I want to cry.”

“You’re so cute, Kookie”, you say, reaching up to wipe his tears, “wanna join us in making food?”

“Yes of course. What are you making?”

“Pasta. Yoongi said that he knows how to make an authentic Carbonara.”

“Oh, that sounds yummy”, Jungkook says and wraps his arms around both your waists, squishing you together that way.

It cracks both of you up.

“I’m so happy”, Jungkook murmurs, face buried in the nook between you and Yoongi’s bodies, “oh my god, you guys don’t smell sick anymore. Just happy. I missed this so much.”

“You’re adorable”, Yoongi chuckles, ruffling Jungkook’s hair, “oh? Your hair’s grown quite a lot.”

“Yeah, I didn’t wanna cut it. I was so sad hyungie, I thought that I’d never see you again.”

“You can’t get rid of me that easily, kiddo.”

“Good”, Jungkook mumbles and then squeezes your waists, “oh god, I want to merge with you guys. Let’s merge, so we never lose each other again.”

“Sounds like a plan, I’ll see if I can find something in my books”, you joke.

“No”, Jungkook shakes his head, “you’re forbidden from even opening a spell book for the next five decades. I’m not letting you get hurt again.”

You laugh, “okay, okay. Message received. Gosh Kookie, I can’t cut the bacon if you’re holding us like that.”

Jungkook thankfully lets go, but he stays close enough, changing between back hugging Yoongi and back hugging you, all whilst nuzzling his nose into the respective shoulder. You don’t mind that he was here now. On the contrary. He gives the best back hugs and he radiates such happiness, that your and Yoongi’s happiness feels ten times stronger too.

“Did you hear already by the way?” he addresses Yoongi, “___ has magic.”

“I know, I heard when she talked about it to me.”

“So you heard everything?” Jungkook gasps.

Yoongi looks over his shoulder, “yes Kookie, I heard you crying over me. I’m sorry I couldn’t just wake up then and there to hold you.”

“Oh god Yoongi”, Jungkook pouts, “I’m such a crybaby, I cried so much. Sorry for making you listen to it.”

“Don’t apologize. Hey, come get your kiss, Kookie.”

Jungkook leans in, giving Yoongi’s waist a tight squeeze the moment Yoongi’s lips connect with his cheek in a sweet kiss. Jungkook pulls back, exhaling just a little shakily.

“See? That’s so much better than crying, yeah?” Yoongi talks softly.

“Yeah, so much better”, Jungkook says, blushing shyly. He giggles and steals one more kiss from Yoongi even if that surprises the latter and he ends up stumbling from the force of Jungkook pulling him closer.

“Kookie”, Yoongi pulls back with a chuckle, “not so rough, I’m not back to full strength yet.”

“Sorry, I just missed you”, Jungkook whispers, “and you too”, he turns to you, attacking your cheek with a big smooch.

You giggle, leaning in to chase his sweet kiss.

“You’re so cute, Kookie.”

“Heh”, Jungkook lets out, resting his chin on your shoulder afterwards to sway your bodies from side to side slowly.

In the meantime, you and Yoongi fry the bacon together. You put it in the pan and Yoongi stirs. It is the perfect teamwork and continues as you prepare the eggs together. Yoongi cracks them while you stir.

“Did ___ already tell you about her grandma, hyung?” Jungkook asks, waddling behind you as you hurry to get the salt.

“She didn’t”, Yoongi sneaks a glance at you, “didn’t you tell me that she died a few years ago?”

“She did, but the craziest thing happened to me. To us”, you say, pointing at Jungkook, “we were out of options and felt hopeless so I told him about my grandma and that she definitely was a witch but that I never got the chance to talk to her about it. And then Kookie suggested that we might try to look for clues in her house with the help of my memories and so we travelled to my memories. And we actually managed to do it but then the craziest thing happened and she actually addressed us and talked to us.”

“Really?” Yoongi sounds genuinely surprised.

“Yeah”, Jungkook nods his head vigorously, “she could even see us and touch us, hyung. And, and I wasn’t a vampire anymore, just human.”

“You were?”

“He was”, you continue, “and we ate her raspberry pie. It was so good, wasn’t it?”

“It was heaven, so yummy and sweet. Hyung, I had a heartbeat”, Jungkook says, “it felt so good. It was racing so much whenever I looked at ___.”

“Kookie, the hell?” you gasp as you fluster, “don’t say that.”

Jungkook grins sheepishly, squeezing you softly before he kisses your cheek lovingly.

“Huh”, Yoongi lets out and scoffs, shaking his head in disbelief. He turns to prepare the eggs in the hot water, “I can’t believe you guys managed to enter The Plains on your first try.”

“The Plains? What’s that?”

“It’s afterlife for witches. It’s between the realm of the living and the realm of the dead. You won’t believe it, but Namjoon was the one who created it long before we became vampires. He said it was to make sure that even in death we could continue to live together”, Yoongi lifts his head, staring at the ceiling with sad eyes, “yeah well, we can see how that turned out”, he whispers, before shaking his head to get rid of the sadness on his voice, “whatever. My point is, that it’s really fucking hard to enter The Plains as a living witch, let alone to bring a vampire with you”, Yoongi looks at you, letting his eyes run over your features, “you’re actually really fucking impressive, princess. Like honestly.”

“Oh uhm”, you feel your cheeks heat up, “I didn’t even know that it was that difficult to do. I just really wanted to see my grandmother again.”

“You can be proud of what you did. It took me a year to master it”, Yoongi says, “you have serious potential, I mean it.”

“No, I still have so much to learn. I barely even know anything and sometimes my magic overwhelms me and I don’t know what to do.”

“Undermine your talents again and I’ll whoop your ass”, Yoongi warns, “I mean it when I tell you that you have potential. I trained hundreds of witches in my time, but only a handful managed to teach themselves the level of magic you did. In the span of nine weeks, if I may add.”

“I think pure spite and anxiety kept me going”, you say.

“Princess”, Yoongi warns.

“Thank you”, you assure him, “I think that I still need a little time to realise it, but I’m a bad bitch.”

“You’re such a bad bitch, no joke”, Jungkook agrees, nodding his head vigorously.

Yoongi smiles, “you’ll get even better with proper training. I’m sure that in a few weeks time, you will have mastered even more magic.”

“You’ll help, won’t you?”

“If you want me to.”

“Of course I do. Who else gets to say that she’s getting lessons from the OG witch and OG vampire?”

“Wow, are these the only criteria which make me a good teacher?”

“No. I can kiss you like this too”, you say, sealing a sweet kiss from him, “and like this and this and also like this”, you say between kisses. The kind which melt Yoongi into a complete puddle of giddiness. “That’s the best part of it.”

Yoongi smiles, “I’m not the OG witch by the way. I was just a student”, he whispers.

“Doesn’t matter. You’re the original witch in my eyes”, you whisper, kissing his lips.

Yoongi smiles into the kiss, caressing your waist. He continues touching you when you pull back, gazing at you with love drunk eyes.

“It also means that we won’t have to lose ___ to age”, Jungkook says, “she’ll stay young like Meredith and her coven.”

You widen your eyes. Yoongi seems just as surprised.

“I didn’t even realise that yet”, you confess.

“Neither did I.”

You turn to Yoongi, taking his hands. Yoongi pulls them against his chest, eyes racing between yours.

“My love”, he chokes out.

You smile, “it’s actually eternity, my Yoongi Boongie.”

He laughs. You laugh. And Jungkook laughs too, picking the both of you up just to twirl through the kitchen with you.

“I can’t believe that this is real”, he laughs, “I love you guys so much.”

And as Yoongi picks you up after Jungkook set you down and then begins kissing you, you know that this right here was just the beginning of something eternally good.

171 notes · View notes

flowercrowngods · 5 months

Text

just a teeny tiny little wintering kid fic thing for @cxwzkeys featuring transmasc!eddie/steve/johnny (that punk from family video) ❄️

Babies are the most punk rock thing to exist. Well, according to Eddie, they’re the most metal thing ever, but Eddie can’t be right about everything. They had lengthy arguments about it — lengthy only because they were busy laughing and kicking and fighting dirty about it (read: Steve distracted them both with kisses and scalp massages).

Secretly, Johnny decided that Val is their metal baby and Sue is their punkrock baby. Valerie Amalia Munson, born into the world during a glorious summer storm and crying her lungs out. “Most metal ever,” Eddie had breathed, exhausted and sweaty and so, so warm after giving birth to their babygirl.

And Johnny let’s them have it.

But Sue? Suzie Joanne? With her wild, blonde mane that Johnny likes to pretend to spike up into a mohawk? Oh, she’s his little punkrock baby, alright. Especially with that little pointy hat she’s wearing right now, sleeping soundly in her papa Steve’s arms while he caresses chubby red cheek whispering nonsensical promises to her sleeping form. It never fails to make Johnny smile, even as Joyce has him wrapped up in a conversation about… something. He’s not listening. Not when that’s his babygirl sleeping so soundly in the arms he knows can make anyone feel safe.

Joyce stops talking and follows his eyes, her hand coming up to Johnny’s forearm as she strokes him gently, as though she understands and forgives him.

“She’s beautiful,” she says.

“Yeah,” Johnny says. “She is.” Then, remembering where he is, he snaps out of it and looks back at Joyce, who has this awfully gentle look on her face, her eyes almost watery. She knows. She’s a parent, and she knows.

She had two little punkrock babies, too, even though Big and Baby Byers are a lot more normie about it.

He grins at her and motions for her to follow him. “How ‘bout we make some hot chocolate for those two, hm?”

“Oh, you deserve one just as much,” Joyce says, lightly nudging his shoulder as they walk through Steve’s winter holiday home — it should still be a crime that this exists, but Johnny knows how excited his idiot lovers get about snow, so he’ll pause the agenda for two weeks, in the name of stars in Steve’s and Eddie’s eyes. But after that, it is on!

“But I didn’t—“

“Yes, you did,” Joyce says, gathering all the stuff she needs to make her infamous holiday hot chocolate — these should really be capitalised, in his very secret opinion. “You’re doing a lot, all three of you, raising those two wonderful girls. And you’re doing enough. You deserve a treat about it even if you’re not drowning in house and care work, boy, when will you learn that?”

Johnny smiles sheepishly, his hand coming up to rub at the back of his neck, not really comfortable with the easy affection just because.

“Sorry, ma’am. Yes, ma’am.”

“Now that’s what I wanna hear. Come, help me.”

And so he does. They work in silence, the entire situation still so unreal to him. Standing in this lavish kitchen in his big house somewhere in the middle of nowhere as humongous flakes of snow keep falling outside while he can walk around here in socks.

Some part about him wants to be angry about it. But another part is just… calm. Happy. Indulgent.

They get to have this, get to invite Steve’s found family here each year before the rest of Eddie’s and Johnny’s will arrive, too, for two weeks of winter fun.

Two weeks where his little family gets reminded of how big it actually is. It takes a village, they say — and man, they really actually almost got one. It’s insane. He loves them all so much.

The rest are lounging around the fire, with a very mortified-looking Hopper trying not to move as a two-year-old little metal gremlin girl spends her nap time sleeping on his stomach.

Johnny grins as he meets his eyes, saluting to him with too much cheek, knowing it will land him face-first in the snow later, but he doesn’t care as he carefully balances three too-large mugs of hot chocolate in his hands, walking over to his best guys over on bank by the large window.

Steve has stopped whispering things to his little banshee girl and is gently swaying her this way and that instead — Johnny wonders if he’s aware he’s doing it.

He watches for a moment, just to take it on, just to feel again how unreal everything is. Still he can’t help the smile as he steps closer and presses a kiss to the crown of Steve’s head, who hums in affection.

“Need me to take over?” he asks, finishing off with another kiss. “Take her for a while?”

Steve shakes his head, leaning back slightly to look up at him, his head bumping into Johnny’s stomach as he does, earning himself another kiss.

“No, she’s asleep.”

Eddie scoots closer to Steve to make room for him on their bench.

“Come sit with us?” they ask, barely tearing their gaze away from the dancing, tumbling snowflakes outside, their voice just as quiet as Steve’s, just as hushed, just as reverent. It’s the snow, Johnny figures. It’s the snow and their little babygirl.

Johnny hums and leans over to the side, lightly kissing Eddie and brushing his lips to his little girl’s forehead, too. It’s so… magical, having this tiny little human who is already so different from their other tiny human. Most beautiful goddamn thing he’s ever seen, both of them.

“I love you, little punkrock baby,” he whispers, delighted to see she doesn’t even stir. Delighted to see she feels so safe. So calm. That she can just fall sleep anywhere. She’s like her papa Steve.

“I love you, too, you big punkrock baby,” Steve says, bumping his nose into Johnny’s cheek with a smile. “Now come. Rest. While you can, before madame decides she’s jealous of this very delicious smelling hot chocolate you’ve acquired there.”

“Fuck off,” he chuckles, handing over their mugs as he slides in on Eddie’s other side, resting his arms on the window sill and just watching his little family for a bit.

In the end, they make use of the quiet they’ve been given when Eddie leans against Johnny and Steve against Eddie, the three of them falling asleep in a little pile, their baby safe in her papa’s arms.

It’s only when Val comes over an hour later and decides she wants to be part of their cuddle pile, too, that they have to stir and rearrange. She ends up in Johnny’s lap, watching the snow as Eddie tells a story about a Snowflake named Sam.

Johnny pretends not to listen raptly.

#pretty punk metal #steddie #steddie x johnny #steddie fic #steddie x johnny fic #johnny #i wanna call him johnny rotten so bad but NO 😤#it’s johnny wallace #sue is bc johnny is lame and a fan of siouxsie and the banshees #hi keysie i gave the babies names i hope this is fine :3 #i fucking love kid fic i fucking love johnny even tho he’s too calm in this one but. snow always makes me calm #and he deserves a little happy family moment okay they all deserve it ughhh #dio words #<- extremely niche dio words for an audience of one 🤍

57 notes · View notes

technaart · 2 years

Note

sooooo i saw you wanted requests >:) fear no more, dear tumblr writer, i gotchu covered!

how about this... xiao x reader, angst to fluff, where xiao tries to distance himself from reader because he realized he's in love with her and doesn't want to bring calamity to her life, but she actually loves him too! try to give it a happy ending ><

I won't say I'm in love

Pairing: Xiao x fem! reader

Genre: angst with a happy ending :)

A/N: Thank you for being my first request ever I honestly thought I'd get none!

With a call of his name, the Yaksha appears before you, standing with perfect balance on the rails of Wangshu Inn. The sight of him made you giddy inside, like when you were a kid on the morning of Christmas.

"Hi, Xiao," you greet him with a bright smile, holding out your usual welcome home gift; almond tofu. "Welcome home!"

His eyes widen at your words, with the sight of you standing there as the light of the moon shined upon you. Absolutely ethereal, you were in his eyes. You had his limbs frozen in place with just a look, your smile, laugh, everything made his heart nearly jump out of his chest. His greatest weakness...

Xiao grew tense with that realization, trying desperately to ignore the worried expression taking over your cute face. There was no way he can ever say that out loud, least of all to you. Just friends, right? Xiao shakes his head, maybe even not that. Not anymore.

"I have to go,"

You frown, confused and so worried for him. "Wait, Xiao. What's wrong -?"

He was gone with the next soft breeze.

What just happened? You think to yourself, holding the plate of food close to you now. The only other thing you can think of is maybe someone called his name? Or he heard something that needed his attention? Hoping it was any of those and not something that you may have done to accidentally offend him, you enter back into the Inn, to the room you always paid for. By now it was practically your home.

You waited.

And waited.

Xiao never showed up. Or so you thought.

In the early morning of Liyue, Xiao appeared. You were asleep still, head on the pillow while hugging the extra one you always requested for. It was difficult for you to fall asleep without hugging something. The adorable sight had Xiao's lips tug upward as the thought, I wish that was me instead, filled his mind.

The sudden thought made him jerk away, turning his back towards you. Xiao berated himself for thinking that, feeling that way. He didn't deserve your affection. Didn't deserve this, him.

Deeply rooted inside of him, Xiao believed that he would bring nothing but danger and death to your life if he stayed involved with you. He was a curse. A weapon to be used. Not to love or be loved.

You shift in the sheets behind him, the sound of your sleepy voice startling him so much that he left before you can finish saying his name.

Oh, okay.

That kind of stung you. It was common knowledge that Xiao had his bad days and you understand when he needs his space to think through his thoughts. You also understand when to insert yourself so that he doesn't drown himself in those thoughts.

You hoped that you hadn't missed those signs and now it was too late to help him through it. In your sleepy state, you glance over at the nightstand nearby.

The plate of Almond Tofu still sat there, untouched.

One day passed with no contact with Xiao, and you were okay. You continued on with your daily tasks, taking in any commission Kathrine offered you. You had to pay for your stay at the Inn somehow.

Two, or three days pass and that ball of worry and anxiety grew until there was an uncomfortable pressure in your chest that hasn't been there in a while, since you meet Xiao, actually. He was your comfort, and made you feel safe and cared full when you were with him.

I guess he didn't feel that way about me.

Xiao avoided Zhongli's stare. He'd just been informed about the nonstop work you have been doing instead of resting. You used to call his name out every night around dinnertime, in hopes that he would show up. He did, just not where you can see him. It hurt to see your dejected face each time as you walked tiredly into your room, but not before leaving the plate out on the balcony for him.

"You can't avoid her forever," started Zhongli, blowing softly on his tea before taking a sip. "You care for her as much as she does you. If this continues, she will end up exhausting herself waiting for you."

Xiao turned his head. "She's human. They move on eventually,"

"Not all of them." Zhongli mused, making the Adeptus side glance at him. "It is possible to die of a broken heart."

The thought of you dying, because of him even after he did his best to keep away and avoid that... made him feel, panicked. With the image of you being laid to rest by Zhongli and that one funeral girl burned into his mind made Xiao stand up, knocking the chair to the floor.

There was an expression on his face that Zhongli hasn't seen on Xiao's face since he saved him; desperation. Yet, when Xiao vanished, he couldn't stop the small smirk on his face at his handiwork.

Xiao deserved you.

You weren't standing out on the balcony this time. Instead, you lay in your room, the space dark save for the desk lamp next to the bed. He can see your form under the covers with soft-sounding cries reaching his ears.

He did this.

He hurt you.

Xiao almost left again, but his body moved forward until he was climbing onto the bed, sitting on his knees as his head peaked out from the cover. Your eyes widen at the sight of him, with the sudden touch of his gloved hands cradling your face in them.

"Let me speak," he started, voice strong with emotion. "I can't handle the thought of you getting hurt. I only cause death, Y/N, and staying away from you is the safest option. Or so I thought."

"I feel the safety with you, Xiao. Right by your side is where I belong." You whisper, placing your hands on his to keep him there.

There was a vulnerability in his eyes you have never seen before and it made your heart soar with the thought that he trusted you enough to show it.

His voice breaks. "I don't deserve you, but you, you Y/N, deserve the world."

You sit up properly, wrapping your arms around him tightly. Wanting him to know that you were right there and not planning on going anywhere. His hands splayed out on your back, holding you to his chest, afraid to let you go.

"I love you, Xiao. I understand that you get scared too -" he didn't deny it, though you knew on a normal day he would have. " -but you don't have to worry about hurting me. I know you'll be there whenever I call."

He nodded his head, hiding it in your shoulder.

You kiss the top of his head. "And I don't need the world, I don't need anything, just you."

Hearing your words being said so full of love and devotion caused Xiao to lift his head up enough to look at you. The space between your faces is nonexistent when he kissed you. A kiss that had tears burning behind your eyelids, trying to fall with the love he made you feel.

I love you, his kisses said, finally able to accept it.

453 notes · View notes

kisskiss-slashslash · 11 months

Note

I have a Jason request:D

Request(sorry if it’s too specific): Jason is beginning to notice that their s/o (who does witchcraft) is becoming more and more distant or busy (this also happens a couple days before his birthday) then on the day of his birthday his s/o comes up to him practically jumping up and down from happiness and tells him they have a big present for him. Turns out his s/o made a spell where his mothers ghost is visible for 24 hours but she cannot touch anything and is only visible for him and his s/o to see:)

The only draw back is that after the 24 hours his s/o is SUPER tired and can’t even walk for a couple of weeks bc it took a lot out of them

A happy ending for him and his s/o<3

Ty and have a great day<3

Oooo I love this one.

A very special birthday surprise

The time around his birthday is hard enough for Jason as it is. But now you have been rather distant for days now, always coming up with excuses when he tries to spend time with you. But you also seem so damn *happy* all of the time. His mind keeps coming up with terrible scenarios, of you planning to leave him or seeing someone else, or…

What would he do then? No matter how enraged he would be, he couldn’t imagine ever hurting you. Could he just let you go?

His birthday is just 24 hours away. Maybe you just wanted to wait until after that to leave, so you wouldn’t make the day that keeps bringing back his worst memories even worse for him. Now during these 24 hours, he barely sees you. You are hiding in your little witchey corner, and he hears you softly mumbling to yourself, though it almost sounds like you are holding an actual conversation with someone who is responding to you.

Jason stares at the old clock you brought in from one of the cabins. Just fiften more seconds to midnight.

Had he done anything to deserve you ignoring him like this? The past years, you spent almost his entire birthday snuggled up to him, trying to drown out the painful memories with your love and affection.

Ten seconds.

Was it the last group of campers? Has he been too brutal to them, and scared you off?

Five seconds.

Either way, learning to live without you again would be heartbreaking. Just another scar in his psyche.

One second. And exactly on the stroke of midnight, the curtain sectioning your witching-corner off from the rest of your shack parts and you step out.

“Happy Birthday, Jason”, you say with a smile.

But Jason barely notices you. Because next to you stands the semi-transparent form of his mother, smiling at him with tears in her eyes.

You sheepishly scratch the back of your neck. “I figured you might wanna spend your birthday with your mom again, so I gathered everything I needed to make her spirit visible for you, at least for the duration of your birthday. I wanted it to be a surprise and it needed a lot of preparation, that’s why I was so distant from you lately, so… Happy Birthday.”

Within a split second you find yourself side to side with the icy presence of Pamela, pressed against Jason’s broad chest. His arms go right through her body, but she is acting like she is getting hugged anyway.

“Oh Jason”, Pamela says in the hollow voice typical for ghosts. “My special… special boy. I’m so sorry… For everything you had to go through.”

Jason squeezes both of you even tighter for a second, hot tears dripping from underneath his mask.

“I… uh…”, you start, despite the tight hug making speaking a bit difficult. “I also got us some cake and soda.” You free your arms and cub his cheeks with your hands. “So what do you say we celebrate your birthday properly this year?”

#slasher x reader #jason voorhees x reader

127 notes · View notes

purecantarella · 2 years

Text

20 Minutes

im sorry for getting this out so late :"") just a short one since im studying for my midterms this week. even so i hope you lovelies enjoy this!! ceo!kim jisoo x reader disclaimer/s : smut. i suggest going to look for fluffier or angstier content.

"I don't want to hear excuses, just get it fucking done." Jisoo barked into the phone before slamming it into its place and releasing a soft huff of frustration. Before she could call out for her secretary, you, her fiancée, slipped through the door with a warm smile. "That didn't sound good."

Her frustrations melted away in alarming speeds when she saw you in a frilly white dress and her coat. In it's place was something much more base urge. Jisoo quickly pushes herself out of her chair as you strut towards her, your voice drowning out as you lifted a bag of what she assumed was food.

But quite frankly that wasn't what she wanted.

As you set the paper bag down, her hands are on your hips and spinning you into her. Jisoo's lips finding your instantly and fell into the same delicious pattern she had, her tongue probing into your mouth, tangling itself with yours as you stifle a squeaky moan.

She pulls away with a small smirk seeing how affected you'd become with just a kiss. Jisoo's voice falls to a husky hush, "What did I ever do to deserve you, dearest?"

You flash her an embarrassed smile before whispering, "I would do everything to make you happy, Soo..."

The powerful woman took your lips between hers again, pushing you up against her desk as your hands found the back of her neck to pull her impossibly closer. She groans softly as you scratch the skin there delicately. Jisoo pulls away, "Then make me happy?"

You knew precisely what she meant, you bite your lower lip, your hand trailing up to her cheek with your thumb pressing against her lips. You feel your heart pound faster as you watch Jisoo's eyes grow darker and darker with lust.

"I need an answer, dearest." She pauses to suck your thumb loyally, gaze never leaving yours. With an audible 'pop' she releases the digit and she's pressed against your body, cornering you between the table and her. You whine and drop your head onto her shoulder as her hands slip from your hips down to the swell of your ass, kneading through the delicate fabric of your dress "I'm needed at a meeting in 20, and we're wasting precious time."

You nod before she smiles wickedly at you. Her hands quickly slipping lower down to your thighs and picks you up to slip you onto her desk. Her lips are on your neck as your hands weave their way into her hair, tilting your head back.

"Soo..." You gasp as her teeth scrape down to your clavicle. She's sure to leave visible marks, so as you walk out her employees would know just who you belong to. You shrug Jisoo's jacket off your shoulders, exposing more of your skin.

Jisoo pulls away, brushing your hair back behind your shoulders, leaning down to kiss the juncture between your neck and shoulder. "You're all mine. All mine, N/n."

You nod, your hands finding her shoulders, "All yours." Beginning to feel restless, you push her down to her knees slowly to which Jisoo smirks, "What an impatient baby."

You roll your eyes before retorting, "You're the one who said 20 minutes, Soo."

She tuts before firing back, "With that mouth I might just have you leave now. Is that what you want?" She lifts your skirt before pressing a finger to your clothed crotch. You moan as her palm ruts itself into you. "Mmm, with how wet you are, I doubt that that's what you want, dearest."

"Pleeeease..." You beg, your head falling forward to look at Jisoo's smug little face before she takes slips your panties off, taking slow broad lick of your exposed cunt. Another moan rips from your lips as the pays extra attention to your engorged clit. She hums approvingly, "My girl always tasting so good. Can't get enough of it."

She begins to lap away at your dripping center, leaving you a mess. Your hand runs through your hair, tugging at the locks there as your other hand squeezes your own chest frantically, trying to reach your high quicker.

A sharp knock pulls Jisoo's attention away from you momentarily with a low snarl. "Miss Kim, your being asked in the briefing room in five minutes." Her secretary squeaks out, knowing full well what was happening on the other side of the door.

"Alright." Jisoo calls before looking up at your pained-lust ridden face, her smirk only widens. "Gonna have to speed up, aren't we pretty girl?"

Your thrown into a state of unimaginable pleasure when Jisoo's tongue redoubles its efforts, her fingers plunging deep into your core. Loosing control of yourself, you grind down onto her awaiting face.

"Jisoo, fucking hell—Right fucking there..." A familiar knot builds in your stomach and you feel your entire body is on fire as Jisoo skips licking and begins sucking on your already sensitive bud. "I'm cumming, holy shit—Soo!" You cry out as you feel your hand flies to her head, tugging on the locks there.

Your body tenses and you feel your cunt spasming as Jisoo pulls her fingers out, leaving feather light kisses over your blushing center. "Such a pretty little cunt, dearest."

Your cheeks flush as she says so, "Shut up..."

Your fiancée laughs before standing up, brushing your sweaty hair from your face. Jisoo pecks your lips, as you lap up your remaining juices from her lips and chin, making sure to keep her clean to meet her associates. Her smile widens before she cradles your jaw lovingly, "You are perfection, Y/F/N."

Your high expression still lingering you nod, pecking her lips again gently. "Wait here? I'll take us home after this meeting." Again, you nod mindlessly before she picks you up and places you on the leather couch off the side of her office.

She steps out of her office, wiping her face down one more time with her handkerchief before she whispers to her secretary, "Wait about ten minutes before you go in. Bring a cup of lukewarm water with you and a biscuit packet."

The younger woman nods before teasingly smiling up at her boss to which she scoffed before she walked off to her office flushed, "Shut up."

i sort of liked this one, a little more rushed than i would have liked but again that sort of expected as of right now :"") with my exams coming up it's been hard to find time to write everything but i am trying to keep up!! i hope you all enjoyed this and i will see all of you tomorrow!! i love you all vv much and keep safe my lovelies 💓 - r

472 notes · View notes

candied-boys · 7 months

Text

Another - Rio x F! Reader Part 1

When Emma chooses another, Rio has to go home without her... But there's more awaiting him than just forgotten memories...

Themes: hurt and healing, facing the past, learning to love again, aka angst with a happy ending!

Warnings: angst, Rio route spoilers, eventual smut

“Well, I was hellbent on taking revenge for killing our mother, but it seems fate has taken care of that for me, hasn't it, Valerio?" Emidio laughs in a cold voice you remember all too well in spite of your amnesia.

"You were with her for what, three whole years, and she dropped you like a pebble in the ocean for some prince she's known less than a month. At this point, I think I'd rather let you stick around so I can enjoy watching you suffer than put you out of your misery.”

You only nod. You've changed. Being beside her was like being reborn. You have become a very different man — one who regrets the actions that led to the late queen taking her own life. The most dramatic change perhaps being that you agree with him for once. You deserve this. It is retribution for that which cannot be atoned.

The trip to Benitoite takes a week by carriage. Your brothers bicker. The only discussion you participate in is business prospects and politics when strictly necessary. They tell you the court is more divided than ever. It's unlikely to improve until one of you three is named successor. Throwing your existence back into the running is undoubtedly going to cause more friction.

Her voice is ingrained. You should try your best for your kingdom, your people, and yourself. You only ever wanted to try your best for her. What does it even mean to do what's best at this point though?

Too exhausted to let your thoughts fall down the same rabbit hole again, you instead turn your focus out the window. A wretched mistake.

Brilliance. She is the definition of it. The sea stretches on infinitely in its azure glory. Its shores are the place of your dull, grey nightmares. Its reflection haunts you. It is a place you long to love once more, just like the person you had wished to love it with.

The moon is the single royal witness to your arrival. Attendants unfamiliar pay their respects before ushering you to your chambers — now equally as unrecognizable as the servants. You were presumed dead afterall. You should have expected this much. How long will you feel like a guest in your own home when home is where she is.

What luggage accompanied your journey is little; mostly worthless save for being the vessels of priceless memories. With similar emotion you hesitate to remove the clothes you wear. If left out, they will be taken to wash. The last of Rholodite soil to be scrubbed off along with the remnants of her affection. Perhaps it would be best to burn them instead of wearing them devoid of that last hug.

After a long bath you crawl into the bed. Its grand size, though intended to provide comfort, only serves to emphasize your singular presence. In an abyss of loneliness you pray, perhaps for the first time since the carriage accident, for death to swallow you whole.

Instead cruel exhaustion steals you away, leaving you shipwrecked under a familiar gun-metal grey sky. Rain caresses your heart soothing the ache like salt on a wound as you stare out across the mirror of still water.

The oddly familiar sounds of breaking dawn dredge up your consciousness from the seafloor of dreams. A thousand days have passed since last you were here, not a single one beginning with the call of the ocean, yet the cries of the gulls and the crash of the waves at high tide wash through your being as if you had never left.

You lie beneath the dancing reflection of sunlight on water where it seeps through the cracks in your curtains. It should be beautiful, yet with each shimmering lap of the waves upon your ceiling a longing to drown ripples through your soul.

At length, a servant knocks and enters to help you dress. It's been years since you've worn garments so intricate they require the aid of another. Already exhausted before the day has begun, you make your way to the throne room.

Awaiting your arrival there are the king and his mistress — now queen consort thanks to your malice, so vicious that you shamed the previous queen into suicide. You once thought yourself righteous for avenging your mother's suffering, even if you found no satisfaction in the result. Now you think yourself but a mere fool, a cruel monster, a horrible being unworthy to be called a man.

Stepping over the threshold you move swiftly to kneel at their feet. The entire court of one thousand or more looks on at the scene from your periphery. The king and queen welcome you formally, and you raise your head at last to seek their faces. Time has been unkind, you see. Their heads hoary where they were once lustrous. Their eyes duller than you recall. Their youth replaced with wrinkles. You only have yourself to blame.

Restraint evident in their voices and tears welling in their sapphire hues, they tell you how happy they are to have you home. As true as it is that you are relieved to see them, you are not at all happy to be where they call home for that title belongs to her and her alone.

Upon His Majesty's command you rise. Beside each regent stands an attendant — an old minister at the king’s right and a young lady in waiting by the queen consort’s left. As you answer your parents queries you notice her eyes never leave your form. You pay her no mind. She's obviously new.

“And the fair maiden to whom we owe everything for saving your life?” the king’s voice tugs your attention back to him.

Steadying yourself you answer with none of the emotion you feel, “Is to be married to one of the Rholodite princes.”

He insists that wedding gifts will be sent and invitations for a celebration in their honour will be written immediately. You promised yourself that you would stay true, that you wouldn't turn bitter, that you would bear the pain of seeing her with another man. But you know too well that to have them visit as royal guests will either be false happiness or true agony.

“You will dine with your old man and the chancellors this morning, son. We have much to discuss.”

A curt nod is the only answer you can muster before following him out to the dining hall.

Long hours stretch past lunch and into the afternoon while you navigate the bittersweet memories of your life in Rholodite, the complexities of the bell system, the crowning of the new king, the nuances of the internal politics you witnessed first hand, and so forth until other obligations draw your father away.

Drifting down old hallways, tacking a course your body knows in spite of your amnesia, you find yourself standing in front of your mother's chambers.

As the attendant opens the heavy wooden door, you catch the same profile as this morning — now seated at your mother's side, a work of exquisite embroidery in her lap and needle in her hand.

She stands immediately upon the announcement of your presence, curtseying and bowing her covered head while your mother rises.

You are met with overflowing affection, the hugs and tears your mother held back earlier engulfing you like a tidal wave. Every question you've longed to ask her since bits and pieces of your miserable childhood had begun returning to you months ago pours forth. She soothes your fears, reassuring you that beyond the toll that mourning the death of her only son took, she has been very well.

“But, Valerio, why do you only enquire about my health?” she asks, a pained expression tainting her beauty.

Clasping her hands tightly in yours, you reply in confusion, “Who else should I ask about but my dearest mother?”

You follow her sky blue gaze as it is cast aside. A pair of brilliant hues, moist with tears, hold yours expectantly.

“You do not remember her, do you, my darling?” your mother's hushed tone echoes in your ear.

Turning your gaze back to the queen you answer, “I'm sorry, mother. Truly I do not… Should I know your new lady in waiting for some reason?”

“Valerio…” she pauses, her eyes now equally as watery as the young woman at her side. “This is your wife…”

Part 2

#ikemen prince #ikepri #ikemen prince rio #ikepri rio #rio ortiz #ikemen prince rio ortiz #ikemen rio #ikepri fanfic

49 notes · View notes

justalonelybitch · 2 years

Text

Love Needs No Reasons

Karina x Winter x F!Reader

Genre: Angst, Fluff

Warnings: Insecurities, Doubts, Jealousy, Implied Depression, Exhaustion

Word Count: 3.4k

Buy me a coffee :)

A soulless chuckle effortlessly slipped past your lips as you feigned as though you were just as amused by the lead protagonist as your fellow members were. Mirroring their happiness so flawlessly you almost believed it to be true yourself, if only your eyes could hide the tale of your sorrows. Gone were the orbs that once shined with glee, replaced by a hollow gaze swirling with doubt.

The faint feeling of a thumb rubbing circles on your thigh brought you back to the present, but the sensation felt dull, as though you were numb to the world around you. Your eyes flickered to the hand in your lap, familiar messily painted nails gently scraping along your bare skin. Glancing at its owner, you were met with chocolate brown orbs that held nothing but love. Love you didn’t deserve.

At least that’s what you’d convinced yourself to believe. It was all you ever thought about these days. You couldn't imagine how such a gorgeous, charming individual could hold so much adoration for a person like yourself. No matter how hard you tried, you could never wrap your head around it. Jimin was perfect, a goddess blessed by the heavens with not only ethereal beauty, but a kind nature that made everyone in her presence feel at home, consumed by her warmth.

And yet she loved you. She doted on you each day with nothing but sincerity in her eyes, never forgetting to remind you of how much she cared for you. Every night Jimin would whisper to you in a sleepy daze, confessing how she falls deeper in love with you at each passing moment. All her admissions left you weak in the knees, but not in the way you’d dreamed about how love felt. It felt as though a knife was repeatedly plunged into your fragile heart, twisting it in as she watched you suffer, drowning in her affection.

Each word of adoration only proved to remind you of how little you deserved it. Jimin, a visual queen with a heart of gold, loving you? You shook your head in disapproval, scoffing at how naive you had been. You were trapped by her enchanting eyes that swirled with devotion to you. “Are you okay?” She whispers, concern written on her face from the moment she laid her alluring eyes upon you. You nod lazily, brushing away her worries and shrugging off the hand that now rested on your shoulder.

Two slim arms slithered around your torso, resting comfortably on your stomach. Turning your head, you glance over your shoulder, meeting Minjeong’s soft gaze. Her large eyes bore holes into your head, bottom lip jutted out as she pouted. You raise an inquisitive brow at her sudden action, receiving a huff in response as she tugs you impossibly closer, your back pressed to her chest. You squirm in her hold, avoiding her gaze for it only serves as a constant reminder of your lingering doubts.

Not only did Jimin share nothing but love for you, but Minjeong too. How did you have both of them wrapped around your finger without even trying? They were always by your side, unable to get enough of you. Yet each time their fingertips grazed your skin it burned, their touch branding you with uncertainty. Maybe they would be better off without you. It was a thought that frequently tainted your thoughts, imprisoning you in misery.

Their love was beautiful, how could something so precious be so destructive? They infected you with a love that was slowly killing you. “I love you,” Minjeong whispered in your ear, the words rolling off her tongue without a second thought, as if trying to coax you from your destructive thoughts. The phrase rang in your ears, effortlessly impaling you with a in one blow. Their love was fatal. You weren’t sure how much more your frail heart could handle, for it would only be so long before it collapsed under the pressure resting upon your chest.

Minjeong observed you from across the room with hawk eyes, brows sewn together in confusion. You hadn’t spared her a glance this morning, not even bothering to greet her with the usual morning kiss she’d grown accustomed to. Instead she woke to cold sheets and faint traces of your lingering perfume. She approached you at breakfast, leaning down to press her coffee stained lips on yours, only for you to turn your head. Her mouth hung open, eyes widened in surprise. Not once had you refused a kiss from her awaiting lips.

Her initial thought was the possibility that she’d upset you, the idea left a scowl on her face. She’d racked her brain for every interaction you shared the night prior, but to no avail. She concluded it was just exhaustion, you’d never been a morning person, so maybe you’d just woken up on the wrong side of bed. So she tried again. Clumsily rushing up to you, a grin already fighting its way onto her face. You were so focused on perfecting the dance for your latest comeback that you failed to notice the puppy-like girl waiting eagerly by your side.

Glancing at the mirror, you flinched, startled by the presence on your right. Minjeong abruptly jumped into your arms, relying on you to catch her before she plummeted to the hard wooden floor. A melodious giggle escaped her parted lips, a look of mischief reflecting in her eyes. She felt a warmth being held in your arms, one that only so few could provide. But you only felt bittersweet. Sighing, you reluctantly placed her on the ground, gently pushing her away. Keeping her at arm's length always made it easier. “I’ve got to practice,” you said apologetically, turning away from her without another word.

She stared with a tilted head, waiting for you to break out into a fit of laughter and tell her it was a joke. Yet you remained stoic, carefully running through the choreography. Minjeong’s frown deepened at the sight, appalled by your blatant disregard of her presence. “Y/n~” She called, sinking her teeth into her bottom lip upon receiving no response. So she tried again, “Y/n?” Huffing, you met her gaze in the mirror, faltering under her dejected stare. “What is it, Winter?” You questioned, your eyes drained of life, the dark circles under your eyes prominent.

Her heart dropped. You never called her Winter, it was always some stupid nickname you insisted on and she always pretended to hate them. But you both knew better. However, Winter was reserved for teasing or public interactions. Hearing that name slip past you lips so effortlessly made her heart ache. It felt cold and distant, opposed to the usual warm and fuzzy feeling you left her with. Minjeong felt like someone of no significance to you when hearing that name in private, it hurt. Now she knew something was very wrong, but then came the problem of fixing it.

Minjeong’s eye darted around the room in uncertainty, shuffling away from you with a defeated sigh, frown plastered on her face, forehead creased. Her gaze flickered to the door as it swung open, Jimin gracefully sauntering into the studio. Feeling holes boring into the side of her head, the leader turned her head to meet Minjeong’s intense stare. Exchanging wordless conversation through their eyes, Jimin swifty traipsed over to the younger girl, raising an inquisitive brow. “What’s up?” The older woman questioned, tilting her head at the expression of dismay she was greeted with.

“Have you spoken with Y/n this morning?” Minjeong said, getting straight to the point. Jimin hummed thoughtfully, crossing her arms over her chest as she came to a conclusion. “No, she wasn’t in bed when I woke up. I think I saw her on the couch before I left though, she looked tired so I didn’t bother her.” The younger girl nodded along at her words, glancing at you in puzzlement. “Why do you ask?” The leader questioned, eyeing her girlfriend sceptically. “She has been off lately, and I can’t figure out why.” Minjeong whined in annoyance, throwing her head back in exasperation.

“What do you mean by ‘off’?” Jimin raised a brow, gaze flickering to you, watching as you practised tirelessly. Catching your eye in the mirror's reflection, the older girl shot you a warm smile, dimples on full display. Only for it to be wiped off not a second later, as you avoided her gaze, eyes darting around the room nervously. Without a second thought she was sauntering towards you, disregarding Minjeong’s whines of protest as she remained idle on the couch. Within moments she stood behind you, arms snaking around you as she pulled you into her chest.

“What’s wrong, baby?” Jimin whispered in your ear, her breath tickling your skin, leaving goosebumps in her wake. You shivered in her grip, prying her hands off you in an attempt to break free, but to no avail. Tightening her hold on your waist, she squeezed your hips, piercing gaze boring holes into you through the reflective surface. “N-Nothing,” you managed to stutter out under her firm gaze, earning a dissatisfied grunt. “Do I need to ask again?” She raised an impatient brow, fingertips drumming on your bare skin.

You rapidly shook your head in refusal, huffing as you struggled to break free of her grasp. “Can we not?” You whispered, startling Jimin with your weak plea, exhaustion beginning to take a toll on you. She frowned, worry written on her face as she released you wordlessly, hands stalling on your hips before her touch was erased from your skin. The tension was palpable as she lingered by you side, silently watching with a frown as you began to fall into a whirlwind of swirling thoughts. Jimin couldn’t look into your eyes and read you like an open book as she once had. It irked her.

“Alright everyone, let’s get started!” The choreographer shouted, all of those present stumbling over to the older woman. “Y/n..” Jimin called after you, trailing off as you turned on your heel, shuffling over to the choreographer before she could get another word in. Jimin’s eyes followed your every movement, a frown cemented on her face. “I told you she was off,” Minjeong mumbled, rolling her eyes at the confused expression on her girlfriend’s face. “Do you know why?” The older girl questioned, crossing her arms over her chest as she turned to face Minjeong.

The younger girl shrugged her shoulders, “no clue. Though it seems that we’re the only ones having problems,” Minjeong uttered with gritted teeth, tilting her head in your direction. Following the younger girl's gaze, Jimin almost growled at the sight. There you were, laughing away with the backup dancers, head tucked snugly into the crook of Aeri’s neck, her arm slung around your shoulder. All while your girlfriend’s stood stiffly in the corner, eyes burning with fury as they’d been pushed on the sidelines. “Is she sick of us?” Jimin asked, disbelieving of the words that fell from her lips.

“You don’t think she doesn’t want us anymore, do you?” Minjeong questioned incredulously, an underlying hint of uncertainty in her tone. Jimin shook her head in denial, but the ominous mood remained, both unable to fight off the doubt that pestered their thoughts. “She won't leave us.. will she?” The younger was first to break the tense silence, voice laced with wariness. They shared a glance before turning their heads to face you once more, no longer blinded by a jealous rage, but judgement clouded by insecurities that poisoned into their minds.

“I guess we’ll just have to show her what she’s missing.” And thus began their treacherous endeavour to claim your heart.

Another comeback, more interviews, endless days, sleepless nights. There you sat in yet another interview, fighting to mask the fatigue that threatened to seep through the cracks. Ignoring the way your body screamed in protest each time you moved was a mindless procedure, passing off the fact that your girlfriend’s were all over each other, not so much. What hurt more was that they never once spared you a glance, far too absorbed in each other to remember your exsistence. You couldn’t even be mad, it was your fault for pushing them away after all. Maybe it was time to accept your fate and the inevitable end to your relationship.

They would probably be better off without you, this would be best, all parties could come out of it unscathed. They could go back to living their life in peace without you, that’s how it all began anyway. The young couple were doing just fine before you joined, why did you have to ruin it all? Now you could only do one thing to fix it. You glanced at the two with a fond smile, Jimin wrapped an arm around the younger girl, her hand laced with Minjeong’s, laying atop her blanket-covered lap. Their eyes full of nothing but love and desire as they stole glances at each other in between questions.

A regretful frown threatened to tug at your lips, eyebrows sewn together in thought. For a fleeting moment, you let the pain consume you, tendrils tightening around you heart in a deadly grip. Their thornes piercing you with heartache, squeezing so tightly it numbed you. Left abandoned in an dark empty pit of longing, a feeling you will yourself to not express. Only a few more hours, you promised yourself, returning your gaze to the interviewer who chuckled at one of Yizhuo’s infamous face’s.

The one thing you failed to notice was their familiar eyes boring holes into your head each time you looked away. Jimin and Minjeong began to lose hope as you continuously ignored them, no matter how hard they tried you wouldn’t look their way. And when you finally did, your eyes held no emotion, gone was the love in your eyes they once possessed, replaced by a blank stare. Their hearts burned with disappointment, yearning, desperation but most of all, fear. The fear of losing you now became a frightening reality they couldn’t seem to manipulate in their favour.

You shuffled into your room tiredly, struggling to fight off the sleep as your eyes begged to flutter shut. Upon reaching your bed, your knees gave out as you collapsed onto the mattress, face half buried in a pillow. The world around you began to fade into darkness, eyes fluttering shut, the last thing you saw was the distant blur of a naturally illuminated desk. At the faint sound of a door creaking open, you fought off your sleep, unable to will your eyes open, still heavy with exhaustion.

You jolted up at the muffled sound of hushed voices, blinking rapidly as you adjusted to the blindingly bright ceiling light. “What is it?” You mumbled groggily, rubbing the sleep from your eyes with the sleeve of an oversized hoodie. Minjeong’s oversized hoodie to be exact. Feeling the bed dip, you squinted at the figure that sat perched at the end of your bed. Or was it two people? “Y/n.” The familiar silky soft voice blessed your ears, although it was impossible to deny the certain sternness it carried. “Karina,” you greeted her with a sad smile, hauling your body to a sit up straight.

“Do you still love us?” She asked, never one to edge around things. “I-” You paused for a moment, sinking your teeth into your bottom lips as you glanced at the two girls before you. “You don’t love us anymore!” Minjeong exclaimed, filling your silence, her voice cracking in heartbreak. “That’s not true!” You tried to defend, but the guilty expression plastered on your face told them the wrong story. “Do you want to break up with us?” Jimin asked calmly, though you weren’t blind, the saddened look on her face was clear as day.

Sighing, you ran a hand through your hair, it was far too late and you were far too tired for this. “I think that might be best,” you uttered sorrowfully, the words leaving a bitter taste in your mouth, eyes shining. Jimin blinked back tears of her own, while Minjeong let them cascade down her pale cheeks. “Why?” The younger asked, sniffling as she gazed at you with her large brown eyes full of despair, something you were responsible for. Facing her was too painful, so you forced your gaze to the ground, but her expression of shattered hope would haunt you as long as you lived.

“Did we do something wrong?” Jimin questioned, unable to hide the waver in her voice. “N-No, it’s just-” You inhaled sharply, struggling to find the right words. “Just what, Y/n?” The older girl asked impatiently, frustratedly wiping away the stray tears that rolled down her cheeks. “It’s just that I’m sure you'll both be happier without me!” You declared, unable to stop the broken sob that ripped past your lips, finally letting out what you’d bottled up all this time. “What?” Minjeong practically shrieked, an incredulous look stuck to her tear stained face.

“It’s true! I see the way you look at each other when I’m not around, just like today. Aren’t you better off without me? I don’t even understand why you haven’t already ended things, or why you were even interested in the first place.” You mumbled the last part under your breath, but they heard you clear as day. “None of that’s true-” Minjeong began to protest, eyes bulging out of her head, she couldn't imagine how you could think such thoughts. “It’s okay, Minjeong.” You assured, sending her a broken smile, her heart sinking in her chest.

“I’ll be fine, you don’t have to worry. Just be happy with each other-” you spoke sincerely, voice wavering as another sob threatened to rip past your lips. “Y/n!” Jimin yelled, jumping to her feet as she cut you off. “Happy is the furthest thing from what we’ll be without you. It’s not the same if you’re not there with us, and if you never will be. We need you. We love you Y/n.” Jimin knelt in front of you, grasping your hands in her own as she gazed into you eyes with nothing but honesty.

“I still don’t understand why you love me,” you muttered sadly, eyes glued to the hands in your lap. “Because you’re amazing, Y/n. You’re beautiful, kind, considerate, you put everyone before yourself.” Minjeong jumped in, arm wrapping around your waist as she slid next to you. “None of that matters though, because love needs no reasons. And I love you, Y/n, it’s as simple as that.” She continued, hopeful eyes burning into your soul. “So please don’t leave,” Jimin finished, rubbing your knuckles with the pads of her thumbs.

“Okay,” you whispered, fresh tears spilling from your eyes. Jimin smiled in relief, raising her hand to cup your cheek, gently wiping away your tears. Minjeong tugged you to lay flat on the bed, pulling you impossibly closer as she tucked your head into the crook of her neck. “I promise I’ll never stop loving you,” she whispered, smiling as you nuzzled your nose against her neck, your breath tickling her skin. “As do I,” Jimin proclaimed, lying down behind you, draping a lazy arm over the two of you.

“I love you both so much more than you know and I’m sorry for this mess,” you whispered, beginning to feel drowsy in their warm hold. “Don’t be,” Jimin assured, pressing her face into the back of your neck, planting a gentle kiss on your skin. “Just promise us one thing, love?” She asked, receiving a sleepy hum in response, as Minjeong chuckled, her hand dipping under your shirt to rub soothing circles on your skin. “Promise that if you ever feel like that again you’ll tell us,” Jimin mumbled against your skin, lips grazing your neck.

“I promise,” you said, eyes begging to flutter closed once more. “Sleep well, baby,” Minjeong pressed a kiss atop your head, the faint thump of her heartbeat lulling you into a deep slumber. She grinned at Jimin, lips puckered as she awaited a kiss. The older girl chuckled, leaning forwards to press their lips together in a brief kiss. They both settled on either side of you, hearts content as they began to fall into unconsciousness. They could sleep happily knowing you were trapped between their arms and weren’t intending on leaving anytime soon.

615 notes · View notes