#and this was all over 3 intertwined fates mind you
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kiwisandpearls · 10 months ago
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I just checked what the Genshin community was up to on YouTube and…
good lord.
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jjunieworld · 28 days ago
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TWIST OF FORTUNE ˒˒ 강태현
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on your way to a halloween party, you and your friends stumble upon an abandoned amusement park in the woods. in one of the run-down tents lies an animatronic fortune teller whose fortunes come true, but at a deadly cost.
pairing ⸝⸝ kang taehyun 𝑥 fem!reader 𓄵 𝓯eat. ꔛ 𝘺𝘦𝘰𝘯𝘫𝘶𝘯, 𝘣𝘦𝘰𝘮𝘨𝘺𝘶, 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘺𝘶𝘯𝘫𝘪𝘯 𝘧𝘳𝘰𝘮 𝘭𝘦 𝘴𝘴𝘦𝘳𝘢𝘧𝘪𝘮
genre ⋆ 📓 ⸝⸝ established relationship, horror / horror elements, some thriller elements and general creepiness, smut
warnings ⸝⸝ creepy animatronic fortune teller, blood, very small instances of gore, death, mentions of getting drunk / alcohol, unprotected sex, big dick!tyun, dom / sub dynamics, creampie, riding, exhibitionism, slight overstimulation, blowjob mention
kipo’s note ⸝⸝ happy halloween!!! >ᵥ_ᵥ< hehe here’s a quick little spooky fic to celebrate! was watching the frost mv and got some inspiration from it so this is mainly based on that! this was suppose to be shorter but i got carried away with all of the horror and thriller elements lmao :3 baby’s first horror!! enjoy! (>人<;)
͏ ͏ ͏͏ ͏ ͏͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏͏ ͏͏  ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏͏ ͏ ͏͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏͏ ͏ ͏͏  ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏͏ ͏ ͏͏ ͏ ͏͏ ͏ ❨ 3.7k ❩ ╱ ❨ 𝓶.list ❩ ͏ ͏ ͏͏ ͏ ͏͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏͏ ͏ ͏͏  ͏ ͏  ︵͡   𝙖𝙡𝙡 𝙛𝙚𝙚𝙙𝙗𝙖𝙘𝙠 𝙖𝙣𝙙 𝙧𝙚𝙗𝙡𝙤𝙜𝙨 𝙖𝙧𝙚 𝙬𝙚𝙡𝙘𝙤𝙢𝙚 (⌒‿⌒)♡
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“come on, just try it!”
the decrepit hooded animatronic beckoned you to its table, along with your friends. it was dressed as a fortune teller—a thick, dark velvet robe covering it, but you swore you could see its sharp smile. the small tent that you were in felt even smaller and it didn’t help that it was a mess. you scrunched up your face and shook your head, “i don’t think we should be messing with it… i mean, it’s abandoned for a reason, right?”
your friends snickered at you and your boyfriend, taehyun, pulled you closer to his side. you didn’t pay your friends any mind, they were way too drunk to think rationally right now. who knew a shortcut through the woods on the way to a halloween party would lead you to an abandoned amusement park, the neon lights glittering through the trees and pulling you towards it?
pulling down the skirt of your ragged and bloody cheerleader costume, you inhaled sharply. the knife headband, the ones that made it seem like it was going through your head, tilted off your head and you adjusted it.
“it’s harmless, babe,” taehyun said and he moved away from you and towards the fortune teller’s table. he reached over to where yeonjun stood in his zombie costume and took one of the coins you all rigged from a previous game. taehyun held up the coin as he turned towards you and it caught the flickering lights hanging from the top of the tent. “see, i’ll get a fortune and show you.”
taehyun sat down at the table in the chair in front of the fortune teller and slid the coin in the slot in front of him. the animatronic came to life, creepy music filling the tent you were all in. taehyun adjusted the fallen straps of his mummy costume as he awaited his fortune.
“you have come here in search of knowledge that only the spirits can provide,” the fortune teller said in an almost grating voice. “look into my eyes and come face to face with your fate.”
suddenly, the fortune teller leaned forward as its hand lifted to pull back its hood. two eyes that looked like crystal balls lit up and swirled with hues of pink and blue. taehyun leaned back, shocked, and looked over at yeonjun and beomgyu. the two boys laughed. “this doesn’t seem—” you were cut off by the fortune teller speaking again.
“the hands of time spin and spin. spirits, show me where to begin.”
it’s eyes turned white and the animatronic leaned back. your other friend, yunjin, crept over to where you stood and intertwined your arm with hers. she looked just as scared as you felt. there was something too human about the way the animatronic moved. like, if you were to pull back the robe there would be an actual person underneath.
“who beckons my presence?” the fortune teller suddenly called out in a different, more darker, voice. “a person seeking the hidden valleys of their future, i see? why yes, i shall show thee.”
it waved its hand about the table over the spread out cards and opened book. fog spilled from out around the table. it flipped its hand over and a small white card appeared in it. the fortune teller held its hand out to taehyun with the card in its palm.
“a twist of fortune—an untimely demise. i see all of those present bitter ends. i leave you with this, curious traveler: what can run, but cannot hide?” the animatronic’s eyes went dark and the hood fell back over its face.
you gripped tightly onto yunjin. “you said it just gave you a card!” she scolded yeonjun and beomgyu. the two of them laughed harder. “it does give you a card!” beomgyu exclaimed, accidentally smearing his skeleton face paint while laughing. “the rest of it is all an act to get you scared.”
you all stepped forward to see the fortune that taehyun got. hesitantly, taehyun took the card from the fortune teller’s open hand. as soon as he took it, it’s palm closed and it’s arm moved back to its side, the animatronic resuming its previous position before putting the coin in.
“well, what does it say?” yeonjun asked.
you all hovered closer to taehyun, trying to get a peak at the card. “you will go on an unexpected ride that changes your state…” taehyun trailed off, confused. he stood up from the table and turned towards you all. “what does that even mean?”
beomgyu snickered, “i can think of something.” he winked at you and the three boys erupted into laughter. you rolled your eyes as you and yunjin stepped out of the stuffy tent and to the rest of the abandoned amusement park.
“don’t be an asshole,” yunjin said as she flicked the torn veil off her shoulder. her costume was a dead bride and you could tell she was regretting wearing the dress since she kept ripping the ends off of it off to make it shorter. the boys stepped out after the two of you, still chuckling.
“what did your fortunes say?” you asked beomgyu and yeonjun, turning to face them. 
yeonjun dug in the pockets of his ripped and bloody jeans until he found the card. he dramatically held it out and read from it. “you will bite the hand that feeds,” he said just as dramatically. “whatever that is suppose to mean.”
“a door you open will remain shut,” beomgyu said after, reading from his card. “that doesn’t even make sense. see… y/n, it really is just meaningless words.”
taehyun came to your side and wrapped an arm around your waist. “i’d rather get far away from this tent,” you spoke. “i don’t want anything to do with that fortune teller.”
“we can go check out more of the attractions?” taehyun looked down and you and suggested. you shrugged. as long as it was away from this tent, you really didn’t care. 
“enjoy your ride!” yeonjun called out as you and taehyun walked away, followed by a laughing beomgyu and yunjin hitting the both of them. taehyun smirked and you turned and raised your middle finger at them while continuing to walk.
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for a ride called “the tunnel of love,” there wasn’t anything remotely romantic about it besides the pink lighting and stuttering soft music. the cart you and taehyun were in was creaky and seemed like it was about to fall off the track, but it worked well enough. what was supposed to be romantic imagery was instead broken down and unappealing.
the moving cart repeatedly creaked and shifted underneath you and you grabbed onto taehyun’s shoulders to stabilize yourself. the skirt of your cheerleading costume was bunched up around your waist and your panties had been hastily pulled to the side. the same hastiness had been given to the top of your costume, the fabric being pushed up your chest to reveal your bouncing tits.
“are you sure this isn’t gonna fall apart?” you asked breathlessly, half through a moan. taehyun’s hands gripped harder at your hips, the mummy mask he wore discarded somewhere in the cart along with your headband. “uh huh,” he mumbled, his head falling back.
taehyun brought his lips to yours. a loud sound echoed through the tunnel and you pulled away from him, halting your movements. “what was that?” you nervously asked while turning in the direction of the sound.
“it’s nothing,” taehyun said, guiding your face back towards his. he lifted his hips, big cock plunging deeper into you. you whimpered and gripped his shoulders tighter. “probably just a raccoon or something.”
he kissed you again, his hips lifting to push his cock inside you over and over at the pace you started. you moaned into his mouth, rolling your hips in time with his thrusts. you decided to ignore the sound and take taehyun’s words as they were. if you got jumpy at every sound now then you’d be scared the whole night.
taehyun’s lips moved down to your neck and left open mouthed kisses as his hands slid up your body to squeeze your tits. you moaned at his touch, hips moving faster and chasing the feeling that made your stomach tighten.
“f-fuck you’re so big!” you cried. your hips jerked as you gasped and stilled your movements, yet taehyun kept going. you felt completely stuffed and like you were gonna rip apart at any moment. with each thrust taehyun’s cock hit your sweet spot and made your head spin wildly.
it’s been a couple months since the two of you started dating, but you still weren’t used to his size. your thighs started to tremble and it became difficult to hold yourself up in taehyun’s lap. he chuckled, placing a chaste kiss on your neck. he held your hips down and thrusted faster. “you’ll get used to it,” taehyun replied.
a string of curses flew out your mouth and you kissed him to shut yourself up. you moaned against taehyun’s mouth as the high you were chasing finally came and your release started to spill out of you from around his cock. your nails dug into his shoulders as he fucked your cum back inside of you, the lewd sounds of skin slapping against skin and the wet, creaminess from your pussy almost drowning out the creaking and stuttering music.
“shit,” taehyun moaned as you clenched down on him so hard he could’ve came from the simple action alone. “turn around, turn around,” he quickly ushered.
you rose to your feet, pulling yourself off of him and clenching again around the feeling of nothing. cum spilled down your thigh as you bent over taehyun’s lap. he quickly lined himself up with your entrance before fully pushing his long cock inside of you again. you flew forward and grabbed onto the handle of the cart, moaning loudly.
taehyun slammed into you, a firm hand on your back to keep you where he wanted you. your poor, spent pussy fluttered around him as you cried out from the overstimulation. taehyun pulled you down onto his lap just as his warm cum shot into you. you twisted in his lap, the both of you breathing heavily as you kissed him.
you slowly rocked your hips as your lips moved against his. you felt taehyun smile, “so greedy.” distantly, you saw light pour in from the end of the tunnel.
you giggled, “let me blow you and i can show you just how greedy i am.”
“show me,” taehyun said. you stood from his lap, smirking at him. halfway to your knees, a piercing scream sounded from outside of the tunnel, making the two of you jump and turn your heads towards the exit. you turned back to each with wide eyes before quickly cleaning yourselves up and darting towards the exit of the tunnel hand in hand.
“what the fuck—what the fuck!” yunjin exclaimed as she held her hand to her chest. blood spread onto the dirty white fabric of her dress and dripped to the dirt below her. there were tears that fell from her eyes and streaked through her ghastly makeup.
you and taehyun ran up to where her and beomgyu were standing. “what happened?” you asked as you came up to yunjin and inspected her hand.
“yeonjun fucking bit me!” yunjin cried hysterically. you guided her towards one of the benches as your brows furrowed. “what?!” taehyun said.
“we were messing with the cotton candy machine and yunjin was the only one with a cone since it broke. she was teasing yeonjun about it and all of a sudden he took the hand holding it and chomped down on it!” beomgyu rushed out. “after, he stumbled over into the hall of mirrors.”
you quickly grabbed some of the napkins from the stand the cotton candy was at and tried to soak up the blood with them. “that freak!” yunjin spewed before hissing in pain. you muttered out a ‘sorry’ before continuing to stop the bleeding.
beomgyu and taehyun went over to the hall of mirrors and tried to open the door but it wouldn’t budge. “what the fuck, yeonjun! open the door!” taehyun called out. there was no answer. in fact, the hall of mirrors was eerily quiet.
“he’s probably trying to prank us,” beomgyu said as him and taehyun came back over to the bench you and yunjin were at. you managed to stop the bleeding at the cost of wrapping yunjin’s hand in nasty paper towels. “well, it’s not funny,” you replied firmly.
thankfully, the bite wasn’t deep enough to cause any further issues, really only just breaking the skin. “he’ll come back out once he realizes that none of us are laughing,” beomgyu said, glancing back towards the hall of mirrors. he turned to yunjin, worry etching his expression. “are you okay?”
“i hope my fortune comes true and is about him so i can destroy him!” yunjin seethed. you turned to her, confused. “you got a fortune?” you asked.
she dug out the small card from the bodice of her dress and handed it to you. the card read: “you will unravel from a turn of events.”
“how odd,” you commented.
“can we go somewhere else? i don’t want to be in the same place where my hand almost got chewed off,” yunjin asked, standing from the bench as she delicately crossed her arms over her chest. you stood after her and taehyun pulled you to his side, wrapping a protective arm around you.
“the spinning teacups!” beomgyu exclaimed and waved you all over to the ride.
beomgyu got the ride working while you and taehyun filed into one teacup and him and yunjin filed into another. the tension lifted from the air as the music and your laughter replaced it, wind whipping across your faces as you spun in wild circles.
“slow down!” you laughed as you and taehyun whipped in circles from how fast he was spinning the teacup. you desperately held onto the back of it in fear that you’d fly right off the ride. behind you, you heard yunjin’s laughter as well. her and beomgyu zipped by you two and you assumed she was in the same position you were in.
the smile slowly faded from your face as you briefly caught sight of a figure in the distance. you froze, mouth stuttering out words that taehyun didn’t notice from him trying to spin you two faster. the figure grew closer and you saw two glowing eyes piercing through you each time you turned. you screamed.
taehyun jumped, his hands letting go of the wheel as he looked up at you with wide eyes. you pointed a shaky hand behind him as you moved closer to where he sat. taehyun held you close as he turned around. he must’ve seen what you did because his hold on you tightened.
in a flash, taehyun was jumping out of the ride. you screamed out again as the teacups spun around him and you heard your friends calling out to you. the ride came to a screeching halt and you dizzyingly stumbled out of the teacup to taehyun’s awaiting arms. beomgyu and yunjin came near the two of you and you all looked at the figure in the distance.
“what the fuck is that…” yunjin quietly trailed off in question, her words quick and laced with fear.
“it’s…” beomgyu started. he took a step forward and you and yunjin both grabbed a fistful of his shirt to pull him back. “it’s the fortune teller.”
now that beomgyu said it, you could see it. those same glowing eyes with hues of pink and blue jogged your memory as you stared into its approaching figure. it moved too fluidly for an animatronic, easily stepping over discarded garbage and rubble without even peering down. the closer it got, the more you felt as if it’s gaze was locked on you.
you all were frozen in the middle of the teacups, unsure of what to do. a few feet away from you, the fortune teller got onto one knee—it’s eyes going dark—as it held out a hand with a small white card on it. “the spirits beckon you,” the grating voice said and you knew it was talking to you.
“what the fuck…” beomgyu muttered under his breath.
timidly, you stepped forward, closely followed by your boyfriend on your heels. you leaned forward as far away as you could from the animatronic and plucked the card from its hand. as soon as you did, the fortune teller crumpled into a heap on the floor. you and taehyun jerked backwards and you looked at what the card said. beomgyu hovered over your shoulder to get a better look.
“the knife is already in your back,” you read aloud slowly. tears sprang to your eyes and paranoia filled you. “what does that mean?”
a garbled scream emitted from behind you and you spun to face it. the card fell from your fingers and your mouth opened in a silent scream.
yunjin’s skin was falling from her body as if she was decaying at a rapid pace. she fell to the floor as more garbles of pain left her mouth. tears streamed down your eyes as you could do nothing but watch it all happen.
behind her, there was a loud snarl. you looked up to see yeonjun stumbling towards you all, looking more like a zombie than he did before in his costume. you stepped backwards, holding tightly to taehyun’s arm as you tried to process what was happening. before you could process that yeonjun was getting closer and yunjin was practically bones, you were getting pulled to a different direction.
“run!” taehyun said as he dragged you along with him and beomgyu. “run!”
you all ran through the amusement park, followed by a quick, zombified yeonjun running after you. the three of you ducked into a faux gift shop that was curiously selling caskets and gravestones. taehyun pulled you behind the counter and beomgyu hid in one of the fake opened caskets, swinging the casket door shut.
yeonjun barreled through the glass next to the door, knocking over a small rack of items and spilling them all to the floor along with himself. you pressed more into taehyun’s side as you dropped down, a hand over your mouth to stop you from screaming. tears flowed freely from your eyes as you and taehyun moved further under the counter.
what was happening?
above, you heard yeonjun slam a hand onto the counter to help himself up, growling, and you jumped. your body shook as you heard him move around the gift shop and more things clattered to the ground. you looked over to taehyun and he held a shaking finger to his lips. slowly, he peered out from beneath the counter and peeked his head above it. you watched as his eyes widened to saucers and the sound of blades pierced through the air followed by the mixed sound of a snarl and scream.
“we have to get out of here,” taehyun mouthed. you rapidly shook your head and you quietly started to sob. if you moved from beneath this counter you were as good as dead. taehyun just nodded, taking your hand in his. he peered over the counter again and grabbed the knife that was on top of it with his free hand.
slowly, he pulled you along with him out from beneath the counter. yeonjun was too busy attacking one of the fake gravestones that was playing a creepy lullaby, causing the sound to come out distorted. his back was turned towards you as you and taehyun slowly rose to your feet.
taehyun moved you in front of him as you rounded the corner of the counter and towards the entrance of the gift shop. “i’m so sorry,” taehyun said behind you, loud enough to draw attention. yeonjun snapped his body in your direction, the movement unnatural. before you could turn to ask taehyun what the hell he was thinking, you gasped out as a sharp pain stabbed through your back and you were pushed to the floor.
taehyun ran through the broken window as yeonjun stumbled after him, snarling loudly. you cried out as you hit the hard floor.
wetness coated your arms and face and you looked down to see what you had fallen in. a scream left your parted lips. blood. it was everywhere, and it was coming from the fake casket that beomgyu had hidden in. you looked up at it as more thick globs of blood dripped to the ground and noticed how quiet the inside of the casket was. too late you remembered the scream from earlier.
you rushed to your feet, crying out in pain again from the knife in your back as you used the counter to hold you upright. you heaved in breaths of air that did nothing as you shook furiously. outside, taehyun was fighting a rabid looking yeonjun on the ground.
you glared at him with white-hot rage. you hoped yeonjun won.
stumbling, you made your way outside and put all your energy into running away from the two boys, ignore taehyun’s screams for help and yeonjun’s snarls. once you were a sizable distance away, you turned and watched as yeonjun sliced his hand through the air and they both turned to ash.
you ran as fast as you could out of the amusement park and through the woods, never once looking back again.
it wasn’t until you stumbled into the party that you were originally supposed to go to in the first place, bumping into a crowd of people. “woah,” a guy you didn’t recognize said. you tried to breathe but your throat was dry and your voice was too hoarse to make out anything through your tears. “wicked costume,” another guy said, coming up to you. 
you fell to your knees and the two boys jumped into action. “dead,” you managed to croak out through your tears before your vision started to spot. “they’re all dead.”
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∿ [ continue on to . . . masterlist , taglist , request ] ︵͡   𝙖𝙡𝙡 𝙛𝙚𝙚𝙙𝙗𝙖𝙘𝙠 𝙖𝙣𝙙 𝙧𝙚𝙗𝙡𝙤𝙜𝙨 𝙖𝙧𝙚 𝙬𝙚𝙡𝙘𝙤𝙢𝙚 (⌒‿⌒)♡
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euphoricfilter · 11 months ago
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the silent ‘i love you’
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pairing: jungkook x reader
genre: fluff || non-idol au
summary: sometimes you don’t need words
word count: 1.1k
tags/ warnings: fluff!!!! just very soft and nice and easy to read for tonight. intensional lowercase. sort of sleepy thoughts about love <3
where you can find my other works :D
.  . • ☆ . ° .• °:. *₊ ° . ☆.
some days jungkook simply felt like those three words weren’t enough. that the warm glow of his fragile soul couldn’t scream loud enough for your own precious existence to know how much he truly loved you.
that the whispered words of love as the both of you woke, or a gentle kiss before you both slept and met in your dreams— it simply was only the surface of how he felt. that the silent ‘i love you’ the both of you shared each day was somehow louder than the words themselves.
tender souls touching in a whimsical dance between your existence.
tangled so tight, unmoving, seeping out of you with that fluttery sort of love.
the kind of love that pulls a smile onto your lips at the mere thought of them. gentle touch enough to have your skin alight. obsessive, itching greed consuming every fibre of your being, needing them closer than humanly possible. bodies pressed together and heart beats in sync, tied together by a string of fate and life times you shared before this one.
and some days neither of you had to say ‘i love you’ but that didn’t mean the love wasn’t there. that either of you loved the other any less than you had the day before. or more than you would tomorrow. because it was ever-growing. blooming in both your chests, a flower that would live through all of eternity.
it would be him waking before you, purple and blue toothbrushes sat beside one another in the cup on the sink. or how on some days he’d pick your shower gel over his own. for no other particular reason that he loved everything about your existence, that he felt that little bit closer to you in the hours you had to part.
or remembering to tuck one of your hairties in one of his pockets, just in case.
the same hair tie you’ll find in the washing machine days later, smile tugging at your lips. because as much as you remind him to take everything out his pockets before putting them into the washing machine, there were things you could never get mad over. not when he thinks of you, even when you’re not there. a silent show of care that you never bring up because that was his secret to keep, dissolved into the back of your mind for safe keeping.
he likes to hold your hand as you cross the road, fingers interlaced. because he knows sometimes you get too caught up in your own head, unaware of the wider world around you. so he keeps you glued to the pavement before tugging you across the road. fingers squeezing yours when he knows the both of you are back to safety and you’ll let him pull you around, blind trust in him to take you where you need to go
you like picking him up from work, sat outside on a bench with a box of treats for the walk home. and he would indulge you, even if he had the car parked a block away. not caring if it would mean he had to walk the next morning. because he would never abandon those gentle moments with you, shoulders knocking as you kiss sweet cream from his lips, desperate to hear about his day just as much as you want to share yours
you liked to say ‘i love you’ through the stars. tugging him to the roof of the apartment building, legs tangled as you lay on a blanket.
you both look up at the sky.
so many questions slipping off your tongue. where you talk of fate and destiny and how you loved to believe that two souls so intricately intertwined like your own was probably crafted by something as beautiful as the stars, or another celestial being that just knew what the future held. speckles of fine stardust crafted and moulded, so, when you found a mortal body there would be no doubt he was the one for you, just as you were the one for him.
he likes sending you photos of cats. adopting the habit of carrying a small bag of treats around with him; though neither of you have a pet.
he remembers the frown that would tug on your face each time you’d come across a stray. and he’d stand there for as long as you like as your fingers pet over fluffy heads and behind furry ears. another silent vow of love to a lonely creature.
you liked to pack him lunches, hours spent in the kitchen of a nighttime experimenting, because you never wanted him to have a dull meal. and he’d sit there at the table, reading as a piano piece plays over your phone. not a word spoken between the both of you, and some nights you scuttle his way with a fork-full of something for him to try.
there was love in the tv shows you watched together, the music you shared, the space you both lived in. the closet was a muddle of clothes and accessories that he liked to steal from you just like you steal from him. racks of both your shoes line the entry way of the apartment, collection of mugs a sudden birthday tradition that will go on for as long as you’re alive.
you lived in his mind like you lived in the plants around the house. or the posters you’d put on the walls. and he lived in your mind with gaming consoles and photos of you hung up that he had taken, loved and forever cherished; thriving in the memory of you and how much he loved you then and how much he loves you now.
jungkook had tried to find a better word.
hours spent laying in bed, with your head on his chest, moon spilling into the room as he mulls over the thought of you.
how he likes how warm you are, how he likes sharing this space with you. that he’s glad he’s found you, grateful that you exist within the same time line as him.
your silly little stories of a wonderful sweet sort of love filling his own mind— because maybe you really were crafted for one another. and even if he forgets three simple words, the both of you know love lives within the sphere of your existence.
because maybe that’s what the both of you are when you’re together. maybe even in those moments you’re apart. perhaps you’re the epitome of the word love and that’s why all the silent ‘i love yous’ equal more than words ever will
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nxuvillette · 1 year ago
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“BABY, IT’S COLD OUTSIDE!”
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SPENDING CHRISTMAS W/ TR MEN
synopsis: spending the holidays with your boyfriend is like a dream come true.
❥- including : baji keisuke, kazutora hanemiya, chifuyu matsuno
❥- note : decided to write something sweet for christmas coming up !! also new theme.. so new post colors :> ! i hope you guys enjoy, reblogs are appreciated <;3.
content warnings : sfw, fem!reader, ageless + blank blogs dni, fluff, christmas activities, mentions of food (baji + chifuyu), use of pet names (babe , baby , princess), tooth rotting fluff.
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♡ BAJI KEISUKE
you were honestly super excited that baji suggested building gingerbread houses together for christmas. you had seen many couples partake in the activity and now that you were in a relationship, you wanted to try it out.
baji came over with all of the supplies you needed. he even suggested that you two make little gingerbread men to live in your little houses together. he honestly thought it was super fun decorating their faces with different gumdrops and drawing on their smiles with delicious frosting. it was fun. both of you were having such a fun time doing it that you made multiple gingerbread men and you had even made them girlfriends to have. baji thought it was a cute addition.
it was all fun and games until you and baji got to the house making part.
neither of you expected it to be so complicated and so.. messy. there was frosting all over your fingers and the parts of the houses kept collapsing or caving in whenever you moved your fingers away. there were a few times that he thought it would stick together, but in the end, he was met with the same fate of the pieces falling apart and onto the placemat on the table.
although it wasn’t you thought it would be, you two were still having fun. you would both laugh whenever a piece of the houses would rip over or when the pieces of candy wouldn’t stick long enough. it was hilarious to both of you, so that’s why you continued trying to perfect the houses. baji kept making the same comment that the gingerbread men can’t be homeless and even if the house was falling apart they needed a roof over their heads. you had to agree with him on that.
after almost two hours of working, you both got your houses into decent condition. it was messy and didn’t look anything like the picture on the box, but you still had so much fun regardless. you two were honestly proud that you didn’t give up halfway through and throw them away. 
“well, we did our best!” baji exclaimed, popping one of the many gumdrops into his mouth.
you couldn’t help but laugh at how they looked, but what he said was true. “i agree!” you then came over beside him to take a photo of the houses.
baji snaked his arm around your waist, pulling you onto his lap. he dragged his thumb along the corner of your lip to wipe off the excess frosting. “had a little somethin’ there..” he smiled, pressing a soft kiss onto you. 
you couldn’t hide your grin, brushing your fingers through his hair. he honestly loved when you did that. your fingers always felt so nice threaded through his locks, brushing against his scalp. he could fall asleep like that if he wanted to. “i love you..” you whispered, looking into his chocolate brown eyes. 
he squeezed your body against him, bringing you closer. “i love you more, baby, don’t you forget that.” he intertwined his fingers with yours, spreading his warmth onto your hand.
♡ KAZUTORA HANEMIYA
it was actually your idea to go out and see christmas lights with kazutora. there was a festival that was planning a lighting ceremony and you decided to go with him. both of you were really excited, considering it was your first christmas together as a couple.
you bundled up in your winter clothes. it was going to be a chilly night, but neither of you minded the cold if it meant you got to be together when you saw the lights. it wasn’t a far drive at all and there were a lot of people who were waiting to see the christmas tree shine. the sheer winter wind nipped at your exposed skin, which brought you closer to your boyfriend. kazutora had a tight hold on your body, making sure that you weren’t shivering. he’d hate to see you feeling any kind of cold.
soon enough, the tree was lit. multicolored lights were laced around the trees branches, making them twinkle in your eyes. kazutora couldn’t help but smile at the sight of you gleaming like a small child at the pretty tree. you looked so cute. he just couldn’t help but admire you in the glow of the lights.
you then walked along the sidewalks, pointing at the different trees and bushes that had lights strung along their leaves. you and kazutora had even taken a few photos along the way. he loved nothing more than to spend time with you, even if that meant his toes were numb. you never failed to make him happy and that’s why spending holidays with you felt so special. you made them just a little more exciting than it usually would be. 
kazutora held your hand as you both viewed the different houses in the neighborhood. some people had decorated their houses beautifully. “baby, look! that snowman is adorable!” you pointed at the glowing decor with a smile on your face. 
he chuckled when his eyes focused on it. he had an image flow into his head. it was of you and him together in the future when you had your own house together. you’d be decorating the front yard with too many lights to count and you would have the brightest house on the block. he could never say no to you. 
“looks cute, princess, just like you.” he kissed your cheek, making your face turn warm from the sudden contact.
you shivered at the sudden gust of wind that danced through the air. the temperature had dropped even lower than it had originally started at during the beginning of the evening. “i don’t mean to c-cut it short but can we go home? i-i’m freezing!” you looked at your boyfriend apologetically.
kazutora draped his arm around your shoulder, pecking your lips in the process. “of course, babe. maybe we can make some hot chocolate when we get home, yeah?” he nodded, to which you agreed eagerly.
♡ CHIFUYU MATSUNO
you were excited that evening to spend time with your boyfriend for a little christmas date. he had been talking about it for weeks. chifuyu planned every little thing and he was so ecstatic to have you come over and be with him. he had even gotten you both matching pajamas to snuggle up in.
when you arrived, you were hit with the aroma of food and you saw what your boyfriend had done for you.
chifuyu had bought an abundance of snacks and drinks for you two. he had quite literally gone all out for you and it made you so happy. there hadn’t been a single man in your life that would do something like that for you. it honestly made you fall for chifuyu even harder than you already had before. he had this smile on his face and he looked so handsome in his pajamas.. even if there was a snowman on the shirt.
the two of you cuddled up on the couch with many blankets and watched classic christmas movies together. the food he brought was honestly great too. pizza, cookies, candy canes, he had even made hot chocolate with those extra large marshmallows that could hardly fit in the mug. it was absolutely perfect.
with the food and how late it was, you found yourself becoming sleepy. you had quite the busy day and relaxing with chifuyu was only making you want to drift off and sleep for as long as you could. he could sense by your hums and droopy eyes that you were indeed exhausted, so he decided to take you upstairs to his room so you could both retire for the evening in there. 
“tired, huh?” chifuyu asked, lying down beside you in bed.
you had your eyes closed, but you nodded in response. “yeah.. i was so busy today..” you scooched closer to your boyfriend to feel his arms wrap around your body. 
he pecked the top of your head, tucking you underneath his chin so you were resting against his chest. he smiled to himself at your sleepy form. you were so cute. there were so many reasons for him to love you, and this was just one of them. “goodnight, baby.. i love you.” he rested his chin atop the crown of your head.
a light snore came from your lips, making him laugh through his nose. he couldn’t imagine spending christmas with anyone else but you by his side.
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© NXUVILLETTE ┆ all rights reserved, do not repost, translate, or claim as your own.
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fshigur0 · 1 year ago
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heartburn — suguru geto x fem!reader
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synopsis: suguru geto has left, that happened many years ago. but when all of a sudden he texts you back, hinting to an urgent matter you have to discuss, you accept out of curiosity. but we all know the story of how curiosity killed the cat.
warnings: MDNI! basically smut with a bit of plot, angst in the beginning, mentions of death, suguru is sadistic, praise kink, begging kink, use of pet names (such as love, dove, sweetheart, princess, etc.), manipulation, unprotected sex, teasing, vaginal penetration, slapping, creampie, dirty talk, suguru is just cruel, angst at the end. it might have left space for a part two? who knows
a/n: this is a repost! hope u like it hehe <3<3
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The sheer lightness of being was something extremely unfamiliar for a sorcerer. Your existence was inexorably intertwined with a fate that was, to say the least, cruel, and at the mere age of sixteen — in the very spring of one’s life, it all felt excessively tragic.
You couldn’t really retrace the rapidity of how it happened, but although death should have been a gradual concept to learn for a group of teenagers, it loomed over you; watching from afar like a predator does with its prey, and when you least expected it, it would engulf you like a cruel serpent, completely stealing your breath away.
As soon as the spring of your youth was abruptly shattered – reduced to ashes by an uncontrollable fire – you realized you had lost Suguru as well.
Perhaps out of denial or maybe as a form of protection, you had always told yourself that noticing the pain Suguru was going through had been impossible: after all, you were suffering too. In fact, everyone was suffering, but none of you shared the experience of pain with each other.
You suffered in silence in the darkness of your rooms, in the emptiness of a classroom, but you couldn’t show weakness for fear of weakening each other as a result. Yet, you realized – now almost ten years since the events that had mercilessly changed your life – that all that “care” would amount to nothing. You and Suguru had already lost from the start. When he had decided to leave your life completely, he himself had said that ’it was going to happen anyway, eventually’.
It was at that particular moment that you focused on the details of his face: purplish dark circles dominated the lower part of his eyes, which you had always admired before as they were brimming with love, now devoid of any emotion.
You loved him and, truly, you had loved him ever since you sat next to him in class. His stature and expression might have seemed intimidating to everyone, but having him beside you conveyed a sense of… safety; the first time he cracked a small, soft smile at you, your cheeks ignited and your heart drummed in your chest so hard you feared it might burst from your ribcage. Suguru was kind, and always addressed you in a low but delicate tone, as if he feared that raising it even a little would shatter you.
Sure, you had fallen in love, but Suguru had fallen harder. He loved the way your eyes would slowly trace the pages of your favourite book, their intense colour lit by a ray of nomadic sunshine. He loved the tenderness of your fingertips on his scalp and the way you could send shivers down his spine just by running your hand through his hair. He loved the way your voice syllabled his name, it was pure music to his ears. Suguru loved you, but you both knew it wasn’t enough. It would never be enough, because the world he so yearned to create was much more valuable than you.
The stabs that his words had inflicted soon gave way to a disturbing sense of guilt: if you had realised this earlier, could you have changed the course of the story? Could you have prevented his transformation into a mass murderer? Could you have saved the Suguru Geto you knew? The questions plagued your mind, never to be answered.
And just as the first love of your youth walked out of your life, his silhouette growing smaller, that sense of guilt which tormented you morphed into disgust. Spring had come to an end, making way for a long winter.
〔From Suguru Geto〕 : there are some urgent matters we have to discuss. i’ll come to your place.
He’s sitting on your couch, manspreading. His arms crossed over his chest and his head slightly tilted back, eyes firmly glued on you; his gaze is unbearable, and that mocking grin on his face does not help your cause.
You want to punch him so badly, to scream and yell at him, to ask him why on earth he has decided walk back into your life after so long: but it was you who had allowed him to do it, who had opened the front door for him despite your hands shaking — your mind trying in vain to stop you, to warn you that what you were about to do was morally wrong.
Surely, you won’t be able to look the others in the face any more, not after you have welcomed a criminal into your home, a murderer whom everyone wants dead.
“So, cat’s got ya tongue?”
You take in the last drag of your cigarette, now consumed, savoring the remnants of nicotine tingling your brain. You want to snap back at him for asking such a dumb question, what are you supposed to say? Welcome him back like nothing happened? Throw a party?
“I have nothing to tell you, Suguru. Rather, it was you who texted me out of nowhere,” You acknowledge that you have raised your voice slightly, as if just hearing him speak irritates you to your core, “So speak.”
“Mhmh, you really haven’t changed much, have ya?” His smirk only grows bigger, like he is getting amused at that sight of you. “You still get heated up pretty quickly, I see.”
You scoff, an expression of sheer disbelief on your face. “Seriously, Suguru?” It hadn’t even been ten minutes and he was already taunting you; you hated him, hated that he was treating you like that after breaking your heart, hated that he was breaking it once more right after you had managed to glue the pieces back together. “Listen here, Geto,” and he raises an eyebrow, the smirk slowly vanishing, as if your use of his surname had wounded his pride, “What on earth do you want from me? You don’t show up for years and now you’re here, acting like nothing’s wrong and, and…”
“… And that hurts your feelings, love?”
A stab in the chest would have hurt less, you think. But right now all the suffering you’ve gone through erupts into an anger that blinds you. “You better not fuck with me or I’ll make you regret coming here.”
Silence suddenly drops in your living room, and for a moment the black-haired man remains stunned, blinking. Then, much to your surprise, he starts laughing: it’s that kind of laugh that pierces right through you and rumbles in your chest. However, you don’t understand why a part of you doesn’t mind.
You sit still, unable to utter a single word, an overwhelming feeling of shame washing over you.
You are currently sitting on two different sides of the room, however you now realise that you are actually extremely close. He shakes his head and leans forward slightly until one of his hands rests on your knee. The cool skin of his palm makes direct contact with yours. You quiver. Dammit, you think, did I really have to wear shorts today?
“Oh my, who thought you threatening me would be so cute?”
“Cut it out, Suguru, or else-”
“Or what, sweetheart? Will you snap my neck?” Suguru grabs your wrist, completely disregarding the strenght he does that with, and brings your hand to his neck, wrapping your palm around it. He applies some pressure, and it looks like he’s enjoying that.
“Or will you pierce my chest?” He then leads your hand to his chest, pushing it right over his heart, so hard that you feel his heartbeat vibrate on your skin. “Scream at me that I’m a jerk, that you have every reason to hate me — because you fucking do, Y/N.”
He pulls you in, so close the points of your noses are almost touching, and you feel his minty breath on your face. You should push him away, you really should, but you don’t want to.
“I really do.” You’re barely able to breathe out, lips chapped up.
You are essentially sitting on his lap, Suguru’s hand finding a way to the back of your thigh, squeezing your flesh. You let out a surprised squeal, and he knows he has you wrapped around his finger.
“I can see that” He responds, deep-brown eyes locked on you. “My sweet, sweet, little dove.”
Before you know it, Suguru closes the gap between the two of you, mouths clasping together. The kiss you share isn’t in any way chaste, and it doesn’t take long for you to start feeling breathless.
His hand caresses the abused spot he has just grasped, before cupping the curve of your ass, boldly ignoring the pink fabric of your shorts. The action makes your cunt throb, and you feel ashamed that not wearing a bra underneath your shirt had caused your hardened nipples to be so exposed.
“Suguru, please…” You beg, yet at this point you’re not sure what you’re begging for.
“Mhmh, I didn’t quite catch that, sweetheart. Can you repeat that for me?”
You know this has to stop, you are perfectly aware of that and the situation on its own is seriously unbelievable. Have you lost your mind? You have to tell him before it’s too late, you have to…
Smack.
The impact of his palm on your butt is sudden, but it takes your breath away for a second. Your mouth slightly parts, yet there is no sound coming out of it. You’re taken aback.
“I think I asked you to repeat yourself, haven’t I?”
He sticks his tongue out, tracing a vertical line along your neck, viciously nibbling on your sensitive skin as his hand rubs circles on your aching butt. His teeth then reach your earlobe, sending inebriating vibrations throughout your core.
You hesitate, and he slaps you again, this time it stings so much you bury your face into the crook of his neck. You bite the bottom of your lip, exhaling.
“P-Please, Suguru…” Stop it, let go of me, “Please, fuck me.”
He chuckles, and gently grabs you by the back of your neck, only to connect your mouths again. “You’re such a good girl,” he murmurs in a husky voice before sucking on your lower lip, releasing it with a light pop, “I missed you so fuckin’ much.”
As he pulls away, a thin thread of saliva separates you. Suguru’s hands grab the hems of your Kuromi shirt, uncovering your breasts, and he wastes no time as he starts sucking on the hardened buds.
“S-Suguru, mhhh…”
Your hands firmly grip his shoulders, head tilted back in pure bliss. You are drenched, and Suguru is quick to notice that: with a swift movement - which produces yet another squeal from you - he has you laying down, back against the soft cushions of the sofa.
You feel extremely defenseless as he positions himself above you, arms secured at the sides of your waist. You take a moment to admire how his long hair gracefully drops down, perfectly framing his face.
“I forgot how pretty you looked underneath me.”
He hums, and this has you clench your thighs together, yearning for some so much needed friction. Suguru then leans forward and places a soft kiss to your temple, and at the same time, his hands roughly grasp your legs to separate them exposing your drenched shorts.
“Would you look at that, already so wet for me, aren’t ya.”
You glance away for a mere second, your eyes scanning your surroundings just not to look at him. However, before you can tilt your head back in place, his mouth is on your clothed pussy: the warmth of his breath makes you throb in anticipation, as he taunts you, sucking on the fabric of your pyjamas.
Suguru adores the way you whimper, hips moving relentlessly as you attempt to grind against his mouth — needing more than what he is giving you. Yet, seeing you struggle for his attention makes his cock twitch. He pulls down your shorts, playing a little with your lace panties before leaving you completely naked.
“You’re so wet, princess, so fucking needy. You want my cock so bad?”
You let out a loud moan as he slides his fingers through your slick, coating them in your sweet juices. You don’t respond, and that seems to displease him, because he suddenly stops.
You’re about to protest when a stinging pain vibrates throughout your cunt, tears pricking at the corners of your eyes, your first instinct is to close your legs. But Suguru slaps you across your pussy again, a stern look on his face, eyes entirely darkened.
“I asked you a question, sweetheart.”
“Y-Yes!” You whimper, the pain fading away all too quickly.
“Yes, what, mh?”
“Yes, yes I want your cock- please…”
“What do you want, again?”
He was tormenting you, knowing to be the only one in control of the situation. But you were a mess already, and you really wanted him, no, you needed him.
You stretched out your arm, hand groping his bulge making Suguru inhale through gritted teeth.
“I-I want your cock to fill me up, Suguru.”
Normally, you would wish you could wipe off the grin that had formed on his face. Yet, as he starts rubbing his tip against your folds, you forget about all that. Your ankles are positioned on his shoulders and his hands grasp your waist tightly, probably leaving marks as a result. He then pushes you into him without any warning, leaving you breathless, and speechless once more.
“F-Fuck, Y/N, you feel so fucking amazing, princess.” He grunts, taking a moment to feel your plush walls embrace his cock perfectly. “Haven’t felt this perfect pussy in a while.”
“S-Sugu…-”
His thrusts are rough, hips relentless as he fucks deep into you, your walls clenching at his words. It feels so fucking good, and it doesn’t take long before you’re a babbling mess, moaning his name and earning even more mean thrusts from him.
It makes no sense, you should hate him. You should hate the man who abandoned you, who turned his back on you when…
Suguru squeezes your cheeks together, forcing you to look directly at him, eyes locked with his. “Don’t think, you always think too much, pretty,” He then bends your knees with both his arms, literally squeezing you against the couch and his body, angling his cock so deeply that your eyes roll back.
“Look at that, I’m fucking you dumb. You’re such a good girl letting me fuck you dumb like this, huh? I bet you touched yourself thinkin’ about- mmh, fuck!- about me all these years.”
You try your best to nod, incoherent words leaving your lips as your eyes start getting glossy. The lewd squelching sounds his cock makes as he goes in and out of your pussy combined with your sweet mewls are driving Suguru crazy.
He slows down watching the creamy ring formed around his cock, a mixture of his pre-cum and your delicious juices. Then he lifts his gaze to look at you: tongue slightly stuck out, saliva on your chin, tears of pleasure streaming down your face.
“Aren’t you precious? Mhh- fuck, baby, I think I’m close.”
Your walls clench once again as he begins stretching you out once more, steady thrusts slapping against your cunt. The stimulation the friction gives you, and his cock constantly hitting the spot you love most is enough to make you arch your back, shock waves of pure bliss and pleasure making you scream his name.
“Sugu- Suguru… mhhh'love this, love you so much-”
Suguru can’t take it anymore, the sight of you being subdued by him, your body melting into his own as his pace slows down, but the thrusts get harder. Only you can look so heavenly underneath him, and only he can manipulate you however he wants.
He finally reaches his high, throwing his head back as he fills you up with his warm seed, making you reach your second orgasm. His breath is hitched as he pulls out of you, his cum leaking out of your over-stimulated pussy. Your forehead is sweaty, and some strands of hair are attached to it, yet you don’t seem to care.
There are no other words exchanged between the two of you, and the silence yet again fills up the room. Your eyes are fixated on the ceiling, and although you can’t see him, you hear him standing up.
“You leaving?”
“Yeah,” he responds without a hint of hesitation in his voice, the tiniest inclination of sympathy, “I have to.”
“So you got what you wanted.” You try your best not to sound hurt, but you can’t hide the piercing pain in your chest. “Is this why you came here, just because you wanted someone to fuck? Was that the urgent matter to discuss?”
A low chuckle, that’s when you sit up on the couch. He’s looking directly at you, the glimpse of a smile you once loved depicted on his lips.
“Not just someone, Y/N.” He corrects you, but it doesn’t make it any better. No, in fact, it hurts even more.
“I didn’t mean it,” you utter, voice only a whisper as you ponder whether it’s worth it or not, to hurt him like he hurts you. “I didn’t mean it when I said that I love you.”
Checkmate, you think. Only, it is not pain that you see morphing on Suguru’s face once your gaze focuses on him again. In return, you receive nothing: his gaze seems to be devoid of all emotion, and that only magnifies the void formed in your chest.
“I can see that.” You look down, fully aware that you have just made a very dangerous mistake. You swallow the knot that has formed in your throat.
“But you see, Y/N, the big difference between you and me…” Suguru crouches down, lifting your chin with his index finger, lips a breath away from yours. “It’s that I don’t care.”
And with that he is gone, once again casting the enormous weight of his absence on your shoulders.
©fshigur0
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lucienarcheron · 2 months ago
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Spirit Meets the Bones XXXI [ Bonus ]
Genre: Angst/Romance/Drama Warnings: Mentions of physical abuse. Author’s Note:  A bonus morning-after scene that didn't quite fit in with chapter 32 so I'm posting it on its own hehe.
Eris Week was a blast but in case you missed any of the creations, you can find it all here! It includes a new fanart of eiris and four new writing pieces!
shoutout to @divinerivals for being on this journey with me <3
tagging: @climb-the-mountian / @rosewood-cafe / @vanserrass / @zenkindoflove / @animezinglife / @positivewitch / @clockwork-ashes / @carnythian / @secret-third-thing / @runningwiththeoceans / @that-golden-lyre / @thedarkinmansfield / @readychilledwine / @goldenmagnolias / @mali22 / @maidr-00 / @electromagnetic-waves / @eastofatlanta / @moobell55 / @bibliophiliaxvignette / @devilsfoodcake22 / @weesablackbeak / @ladywhilemia / @alohaangels / @feysandfeels / @corcracrow / @dawneternal / @gracie-rosee / @mage-neve / @illyrianvalkyrie / @saint-stella / @rainbowsnowflake /@queenoftheworld1998 / @wolvesnravens
Find it all here.
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The morning was quieter than she expected. 
The room was illuminated with the gentle light of the early morning as a light breeze fluttered through, and Iris found herself wide awake. She’d been awake for a while, simply watching her husband sleep, her body sinking comfortably into the mattress and enveloped in his arms.
Her mind and body felt so quiet. Settled. Everything felt so soft.
Eris’s arm was wrapped around her, her hands folded into her chest as she glanced at him. He hadn’t let her go all night. Every inch of him was touching every inch of her and she wondered if he were afraid she’d disappear should he let go. 
After their night together, Iris had no plans to go anywhere. 
And last night had been…
Iris flushed and let a small smile slip. Her mind felt muddled in the best way – like she couldn’t find the right words to capture how she actually felt, but her whole body seemed to radiate with a warm glow.
Her gaze roamed over his sleeping figure and she couldn't help but catalog every inch of him. In these rare moments of waking before her husband, Iris loved to watch him sleep. It was one of the few times he was ever relaxed. In sleep, he was free.
And Iris didn’t want to think about how many more moments they would be able to spend quietly like this before reality caught up. For now…for now, she could allow herself this indulgence of focusing only on him.
Her husband. Her friend. Her mate.
Eris was hers and Iris was his. 
His. 
And my, did she love being significant to someone. 
Their mating bond felt so alive; the thread of their intertwined fate thumped beneath Iris’s veins like an ethereal melody – a song that would never be forgotten. 
He was right in front of her and yet the bond made her ache for him like nothing she’d ever experienced before. He had cherished her body for hours on end, all that pent-up energy he had savored was unleashed on her all last night, and yet…yet Iris wanted nothing more than to have him all over her again. 
It was a craving. An addiction. A desire so carnal, Iris was sure she’d burst into flame any second.
She reached out a hand and with a feather-like touch, traced his face. The arch of his brows, the edge of his jaw, and lastly let her thumb trace his lips. Those lips had mapped every inch of her skin, kissing her in places that hadn’t seen the sun. Iris shuddered, thinking how the press of his lips was tattooed on her skin, and gods, she wanted him. 
So Iris leaned in and kissed her husband – softly, slowly. She didn’t want to startle him awake. Cauldron knew, he deserved a gentle morning and Iris wanted to give them all to him. 
Her hands carefully slid to wrap around him, pulling him into her as he blinked awake, an adorably sleepy noise slipping from his lips and Iris giggled as she kissed him again. 
He was hers. All hers. 
“Iris.” he rasped and she gave him a small smile, pulling back.
“Hello.”
Sleepy Eris made her heart squeeze. Here, he didn’t need to have his razor-sharp armor to protect him. Here, he could be as soft as he wanted, especially when he smiled at her half-awake, sated. 
“It’s been one night and you’re already trying to wear me out.” 
Iris flushed and hid her face in his neck, nuzzling into him with a laugh. “Apologies for disturbing your slumber, princess.” she teased, pulling back more to meet his gaze. “Do you want me to go away?”
His arms tightened around her immediately with a chuckle. “Naturally. I want you as far away as possible.”
“I suppose it’s time to bring back the pillow barricade.”
“Oh no, the pillow barricade I can easily burn to crisps.” 
“And pull out my most modest sleeping attire.”
“Ah, of course. Sleeping attire I can easily tear off you.” 
“Maybe it’s time I consider becoming a priestess and devote myself to a temple.” 
Eris snorted. “If you think I wouldn’t find you in any temple and defile you in every holy place you can think of  —”
Iris flushed and covered his mouth with her hand. “Let’s not become blasphemous.” 
Eris grinned and nipped at her hand until she pulled it away, biting back another giggle.
She giggled. He made her giggle.
Their legs tangled together and all Iris could do was stare at him, wondering what the hell was she to do with all the feelings now clogging her throat. For the first time in her life, Iris felt like she knew what being at ease meant. That she could be soft with her husband. That she was safe enough to put down all her armor. 
And maybe it was the mating bond or maybe it was the way they’ve always been two sides of the same coin since they met, but Eris seemed to know exactly how she felt. 
Safe and yet so incredibly aware of her naked body touching his.
“Good morning.” he said quietly and the low tenor of his voice almost had her shuddering.
“Good morning.” Iris replied, her heart thundering wildly even though all he did was smile at her. 
“Your heart is beating so fast, wife,” Eris said casually as the hand he had resting on her waist slowly began to slide across her skin. “Is there something you wish to tell me?”
Iris bit the inside of her cheek and shook her head, despite the gooseflesh erupting on her skin. His eyes narrowed as if seeing right through her and Eris chuckled, his hand sliding down further, caressing more of her flesh. 
“Are you sure?” he asked, his voice dropping an octave. “You know I can tell when you’re lying.”
Of course, he could but Iris wasn’t sure if she was quite ready to tell him that she wanted him all over her again. That she couldn’t get enough. That the feeling of his hand on her skin was lighting a fire in her and if he kneaded her flesh once more, she’d make a mess of herself in seconds. She wanted to hold on to some sense of modesty – a hint of the primness she’d been raised to have when it came to such urges.
But against her better judgment, her hand slid to his chest, her finger trailing his lightly freckled skin and Iris fought back the urge to lick him. The desire to taste him threatened to overwhelm her and the small smirk on his face as he watched her cheeks heat told her that Eris could hear her thoughts loud and clear. 
Surely, being mates didn’t mean they couldn’t function without touching each other. 
It couldn’t be true that a frenzy would truly overtake their logic and critical thinking. 
But then Eris’s hand squeezed her rear, forcing their bodies even closer and Iris had to swallow, feeling his arousal pressed against her and all sense of modesty slipped from her brain. 
“You’re not starting to panic about what we did last night, are you?” he teased and Iris’s lips twitched.
“No.”
“You being tied down to me forever now isn’t freaking you out?”
“Is it freaking you out?”
“Of course not.” he scoffed and Iris tried to focus on his words but his hand was still caressing her skin and it was very hard to listen. “Are you feeling alright? Are you feeling sore?” 
She flushed again and met his gaze, her expression softening at the way his brows furrowed with slight worry. “I’m perfectly fine,” Iris confirmed, pushing a finger to the crease in his brows, forcing his expression to relax. “I was just…thinking.”
Eris narrowed his eyes slightly and the longer he glanced at her the more heated her cheeks became, her treacherous heart back to beating quickly.
His answering smirk made Iris groan and she hid her face in the crook of his neck again, his chest rumbling with soft laughter.
“Don’t laugh at me.” she mumbled.
“So you are thinking about me being disgusting with you.”
“I am not.”
“Don’t lie to me. Your heart gave you away, mate.” he tsked and then pulled her even closer to him, wrapping both arms around her. “You know I’ll only be incredibly flattered.” 
“You’re touching me so much – I can’t focus.” she whispered even as her hands slid between them, tracing his skin. 
“After last night, you know I’ll never stop touching you,” he murmured. “Tell me what you’re thinking about.”
Instead of answering, she glanced down at his erect cock between them, pressed against her skin and Iris tried not to make a sound at the sight of it. Eris hadn’t given her time to take him in her mouth last night, too busy filling her cunt and tasting her but now as they lay there, her craving for him increased ten folds. 
Iris glanced back up at Eris to find him watching her, his eyes nearly glazed over in his lust. “Do you remember the last time you woke me up and shared your thoughts?” He said, his voice tight. “Last time I held myself back. This time I won’t.”
“That sounds like a threat.” she murmured.
“Oh, it’s a promise.”
And the sensual tenor of his voice made Iris bold. She couldn’t help but smile sweetly and slide her hand to his cock. Without breaking his gaze, she wrapped her hand around him and squeezed, earning her a small grunt from him, his own hand tightening on her rear. 
She pumped him slowly, only inches between their lips as they watched each other and Eris tried not to shudder when she ran a thumb over the tip of his cock and squeezed him again. 
“I see you do have something you wish to tell me then,” he said in a strained voice, rocking into her hand and Iris licked her lips.
“Yes. But you forgot again.”
“Forgot what.” 
“You forgot to kiss me good morning after waking up.” 
Eris’s chuckle was hoarse as pre-cum leaked out of him and Iris giggled softly as he groaned then nipped at her lips. 
“Forgive me, little gazelle,” he whispered, his hand caressing the bare skin of her thighs. “I was distracted by your beautiful eyes when I woke and now I’m distracted by your hand on my cock.”
“I’ve been awake for a while.” she said quietly, stroking him, enjoying the sight of his throat bob as she did. 
“Is that so.”
“Yes. I was watching you sleep.”
“Disturbing. I like it.”
“And I was thinking about how much I wanted you again.” she confessed, the color deepening on her cheeks as Eris’s smirk widened and her breath caught in her throat when his fingers slowly made their way between her legs.
“Oh?”
“I’m almost embarrassed to admit how much I want you right now,” Iris whispered and a whimper slipped from her lips as her husband slid two fingers into her throbbing cunt without any warning. “It feels t-too much all at once.”
“I have wanted you from the moment you threw that chair at me. Nothing is too much with you,” he murmured back, his fingers teasing her in time with her hand on his cock, his thumb toying with her clit. “So wet for me. How can you think this is too much when you know if I could, I would want to live between your lovely legs?”
“But last night –” she breathed. “We were so – it was — so many times–”
“And?”
“How can I still want to go again and again?” she mumbled as she arched into his touch, her hips rolling with his movements. “I feel like I can’t get enough –”
It was Eris’s turn to slide his free hand over her mouth. “If you keep saying how much you want me and touching my cock like that, this will end before it even starts.” 
Iris flushed but chuckled against his hand then bit it gently, pumping him harder in the same breath. Eris let out a groan that went straight to her core. 
How could she stop when their lips were a breath away and her husband was unraveling at her touch, even as she was melting at his? 
“Iris.” he warned, his hips bucking as her pace quickened, and in turn, so did the pumping of his fingers. 
“You – you could take your own advice.” 
“But look how pretty your flushed skin is. Your eyes are glazed over and you’re about to come all over my fingers. Why should I stop?”
Even as she rolled her hips in time with the curve of his fingers, she didn’t miss how even their thought process had merged into one. “Then I – we should –”
“Come for me, wife,” he demanded softly, curling them slightly and pressing his thumb on her clit. “Drip all over my hand.”
“But wait – you –”
“Come.” 
Iris’s stuttered breath was the only sound she could make as she arched into him, her orgasm washing over her. She could only bite her lip, shuddering against him as he smirked at her, despite her hand still wrapped around his cock. The color in her cheeks deepened the more he watched her, his fingers still playing with her and nothing could stop Iris from rolling her hips with the movements, riding out her orgasm, especially when he murmured, “Good girl. Your listening skills seem to be getting better.” 
“Shut up.” she whispered, bashfulness washing over her when Eris chuckled and Iris slowly began teasing his cock again. “You didn’t get to –”
“Ladies first, wife. Now you can play with me all you like.” he murmured, giving her a rakish smile as he finally pulled his hand away and without breaking eye contact, licked his fingers clean. 
Iris swallowed and tried not to think about wanting his fingers in her mouth. Tried to control the desire to have his cock in her mouth. She wanted to lick him all over. She wanted him all over her. The desire to have him inside of her was overwhelming and Iris wanted to die from embarrassment. She wasn’t this wanton. She had never been so besotted with desire that it clouded all else.
But he was her mate. Her husband. Her best friend. She wanted to want him. There was no shame in it even if she had repressed these feelings before. The mating bond thrived on their desire for each other. 
It would only encourage the frenzy.
“Your heart is beating so fast again, little gazelle,” he whispered as he leaned closer and nipped at the corner of her mouth, his hands back to caressing her overheated skin. “What are you thinking about with your hand on my cock?”
His touch ignited her in a way she’d never imagined and Iris just wanted and wanted –
“I’m thinking about wanting your cock in my mouth again,” she said and bit back a smile at the sound Eris made. “You didn’t let me taste yesterday.” 
“I want to ease you in, wife.” he hissed at a particularly hard squeeze and Iris hummed, leaning forward to place a rather heated kiss on his lips.
“You didn’t think about easing me in when you –”
“I can’t help it that I –”
“Eris –”
“Wife –”
The gold thread of fate between them seemed to glow when Eris growled and finally pulled her fully against him then rolled over so she was locked beneath him. Their lips met in a fiery kiss and everything in Iris was burning in delicious heat as Eris bucked against her, every inch of him touching every inch of her. 
“I should be taking a tonic.” she whispered against his lips. “I didn’t prepare for it –”
“I have been for years. It’s handled.” 
Eris was already spreading her legs, his cock so close to her cunt, calling to him like a siren’s song as his mouth slid to taste every inch of her neck and Iris mewled helplessly beneath him. The tip of him nudged her entrance and Iris almost let him, almost allowed it until she remembered how she wanted to sink onto him. She wanted to feel him beneath her. She wanted to dig her nails into his chest.
“Wait,” she commanded and Eris immediately paused with furrowed brows, his hand fisted around his cock as it sat at her entrance. 
“Yes?”
Iris licked her lips. “I want you on your back.”
His slow blink was almost comical before a grin that was nothing short of feral delight bloomed on his face. “You want to ride my cock, wife?”
Iris’s cheeks heated yet again, heat pooling low in her stomach as she nodded. Caught between the desire to have him as the gods intended and trying to ease out of this stupid sense of modesty she’d been fighting, she tried not to let the shyness win. She wanted to feel him inside her again. She wanted to feel him stretching her, to be so full of him as she had last night. She wanted to have him pulsing inside her, keeping her filled as he came. 
Her thoughts made her pussy pulse, her slickness spreading at the unbridled need that seemed to overtake her body and Eris’s grin widened. 
He cupped her face and ran his thumb across her bottom lip. “You’ll need to use your words, little gazelle.” 
Iris kept her eyes locked on his gaze as she wrapped her lips around his thumb and let her tongue swirl around it, earning a choked breath from her husband. She took the moment to slowly place a hand on his chest and push him back, Eris allowing it and watching her as he pulled his hand away. 
Iris didn’t say a word as she carefully turned them over and pushed him down so he rested beneath her. Eris watched her slowly straddle him and his cock was so hard it was almost painful as she braced herself on her knees, stunningly naked over him.
“I want to ride your cock, husband.” 
Eris was so aroused it was a surprise to him that he hadn’t blown his load. “The seat is yours for the taking, wife. Please. I insist.” 
Biting her lip, Iris reached out to place his hands on her waist and Eris allowed his thumb to caress her skin as she lifted herself slightly and carefully fisted his cock, circling her hips to rub his tip against herself. 
“Iris, look at me.” Eris commanded quietly and her eyes flickered to his, filled with burning desire. “Look at me when you sink down on my cock.” 
Without breaking his gaze, Iris released his shaft and braced her hands on his chest as she slowly, almost agonizingly, slid down on him. Her breath caught in her throat as she took him inch by inch, Eris’s hands holding her waist and Iris tried not to whimper at the sensation of slowly being filled. Tried to not think about how their bond pulsed between them.
Mates.
“That’s it, wife.” Eris praised, leashing himself not to thrust into her. “Take every inch of me.”
Iris bit back a small whine as she sank to the hilt, her body arching at the angle this position allowed, tilting her head back slightly. Oh, it felt so good. It felt – felt –
“So full.” she whispered and slid a hand to one of his on her waist, sliding it up her skin until his thumb rested right beneath her breast. “It feels so good.”
“Take your pleasure, little gazelle,” he murmured and Iris’s gaze flickered down at the seductive tone of his voice, finding him smirking up at her. “Ride me hard, wife.”
Iris needed no further encouragement, both hands braced back on his chest, and slowly began to roll her hips. Her eyes flickered closed for a moment as she began to find her rhythm, grinding, the pleasure building as Eris’s thrusts moved in time with her movement. 
She was in heaven. 
Peering down at her husband through her lashes, finding his attention all on her, she felt sexy—powerful. She allowed her nails to dig gently into his chest as she leaned slightly forward and carefully picked up the pace of her hips. A whimper slipped from her lips when Eris’s hands found their way to her ass and rolled her hips in time with his thrusts again. 
“Look at you,” he murmured, his eyes ablaze in lust that fueled her pace. “My gorgeous, gorgeous wife.” 
Iris shifted and her eyes rolled back, biting her lip, as the rhythm of Eris’s thrusts quickened then slowed then quickened again. “I – “ she began then gasped he slapped her ass, the grin on his face devilish.
“You look glorious taking my cock like this.” he said, his voice low as his fingers dug into her hips again. “You can take me anyway I like. In any way I want, can’t you, wife?”
Iris could only groan softly, sliding a hand to a breast, squeezing it as she rocked her hips in time with Eris’s movement beneath her, bouncing her body to keep taking more and more and more. 
But the pleasure was building — it was nearly blinding and Iris let out a wanton cry as Eris sat up suddenly, the position allowing him to thrust even deeper and she nearly came as his mouth found its way to her neck, sucking on a most sensitive spot.
“Eris.” she mewled and his chuckle skirted across her skin as he dug his hands into her hips and moved her body to keep taking more of him. “I’m so –”
“I can feel you, Iris.” he whispered against her skin. “Your cunt is taking me so good. Keep going and come all over my cock, little gazelle.” 
She was getting overstimulated already and all the sensitivity she had ignored from last night was catching up to her and Iris had to wrap her arms around Eris’s neck to not topple over as she quickened her pace, panting almost pathetically. The mating bond glowed between them and Iris wanted to claw her way into his skin, her fingers tangling in his hair. She wanted to melt into him. 
She wanted to be infused into him and never let his skin leave hers. 
“I need you to go harder.” she begged. “I – I can’t keep – overwhelmed.” 
Eris growled, and before Iris could take a breath, he had flipped them over and she was now smothered beneath her husband’s body, his hands digging into her thighs, spreading her to his liking. He thrust hard once and held, glancing down at her with frenzied eyes. 
“Don’t you worry, mate. We’ll build up your endurance.” Eris promised, his voice guttural as he leaned in close, licking the column of her neck as she whimpered then he sank his teeth into her throat, thrusting hard again and Iris cried out in pleasure. “You’ll learn to ride me long and ride me well.”
And Iris knew without a doubt, the frenzy was slowly ripping at their sanity because even as Eris’s thrust began to take a brutal pace, even as they shared a breath and Iris’s arms were wrapped around him and there wasn’t an inch of them not touching, she needed more. She wanted more. “Kiss me, husband.” She commanded. “I need you – I need you –” 
Eris didn’t hesitate, crashing his lips on hers and whatever sense of reality he had was gone. He only knew his wife and the taste of her skin, the feel of her body taking his as he showered her in pleasure. As he took and gave and Eris would be damned if he didn’t give her everything he could.
In their little sanctuary here, Eris would show her exactly what the frenzy could do to them.
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glitterjay · 6 months ago
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lover boy — 양정원 YJW | pt.4
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genre: opposites attract, good boy!jungwon x popular!reader (fem), college au, semi smau
taglist (open): @hollyoongs @moon7jay @wondipity @fertilizedtoesw @kwiwin @dimplewonie @wvnkoi @enhabooks @ilovejungwonandhaechan @suhiiiies-blog
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DAY 3.
"jungwon pleaseeeee"
your last class had ended about an hour ago, and jungwon did not seem to budge from where he was sitting. the sandwich he was eating seemed far more interesting than your cries and pleas. he was teasing you, and you knew it, but you'd do anything to go to the museum with him.
"i didn't think you could be this annoying," he sighed. you had been pulling at the sleeves of his shirt, making it difficult for him to take a bite of his food. you had also been calling him "lover boy" over and over. he still hated the name, even though it came from you. would he ever learn to like it? You were playing with fate by calling him that. he could either give in or get angry and leave.
to your luck, he gave in. the two of you walked the way there, a suggestion made by you. In your defense, it wasn't so far, and you needed some exercise anyway. you linked your arm with his and talked all the way to the museum. jungwon knew how much you talked, but he liked it. in fact, he would rather hear you talk for the rest of his life than stay in silence.
when you arrived, you almost ran inside—almost. jungwon was quick enough to grab your arm and pull you back, threatening to buy a backpack with a leash like the ones used for little kids for you. this made you pout in response, babbling about how he didn't let you express your excitement and that he was, in fact, almost holding you hostage.
he was always amazed at how dramatic you could get, but it made him laugh every time. jungwon had remembered how you mentioned coming to this museum often when you were younger, knowing almost every piece and its story by heart.
yet, you never grew tired of it. you were so loud that you'd draw attention to both of you, and this would make jungwon extremely nervous. but then he'd look at your intertwined hands and how your eyes sparkled with everything you saw, and suddenly he didn't mind the eyes on him at all.
art had always found a way to talk to his heart, but you were his favorite piece.
© glitterjay | tumblr
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thehistoriangirl · 5 days ago
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The Tides Have Veiled [Third Interlude]
First of all, I wanted to apologize for the delay. I got a problem with this story as I found out someone fed it to an AI. I was about to stop posting it and eliminate it altogether, but it'll be unfair for every one of you who had been so sweet and kind with me and so loving with this story.
We're officially in the middle, and I will walk all this way with you guys ❤️❤️ thank you so much for the support, and I'll read you soon!
Viktor x Fem!Reader /Gothic AU; Haunted Sea/----1.8K---SFW
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> MASTERLIST <- Previous // Next ->
Synopsis:  Piltover the Old has an old lighthouse that looms over an abandoned port. From the house in the wailing cliff’s edge, the lighthouse owner watches that the beacon is being lighten up each time darkness arrives, so that monsters wouldn't dare to crawl inland, or so legends say. Both buildings are haunted, maybe even the man himself, by both past and present ghosts. Surprisingly, the keeper’s work is beyond turning on the beacon every night— but the rest is on you to discover.
Chapter Summary: One fateful night, you two say the thing that wasn't supposed to be.
Tags: Fluff | I'm emotional rn so it may be a bit sad | Some kissing | They say!!! the thing!!! | Needless to say please PLEASE do not feed it to an AI 😭😭😭
Taglist: @lunar-monster @local-mr-frog @bittercyder @blissfulip @ihopeinevergetsoberr @ultimateslasherfan @beeblybub (it's been so long I'm sorry if I forgot to tag someone!! 😭😭 remind me and I'll do it for the next ones :3 pinky promiseee)
Third Interlude: The Stars in Your Eyes
New moon. The perfect witness to keep secrets.
And it isn’t that Viktor wishes to maintain his feelings hidden, resurfacing like the high tide during full moon—rising every night during the solitude of the watch, with the familiar glow of your window visible from the tower until sleep took you for the day, the light of the candle extinguished.
But it a necessary illness he doesn’t mind to be afflicted with.
The place you ought to call house it’s so different to this lonely tower; avant-garde wallpapers are here but starting to chip off. There the candles burn with riches fragrances, while here the beacon illuminates, unforgiving, leaving oil prints all over his fingertips.
At least he can pretend to watch over your dreams from here, peering at the starry night. A childish desire to keep you away from nightmares soaked in crimson tides and women jumping out the cliff.
It’s the same tale of every night—to cocoon in the couch by the control panel, door close to avoid any flicking light filtering inside the room. A book resting on his lap, forgotten pens scattered all over the floor by his shoes. Today isn’t worthy of writing in the logbook. At least not yet.
The door creaks open, metal scratch against wood.
“Viktor,” your voice makes him jump. Between a dream and a ghostly whispering like the sea uses to do with each crashing wave.
He stands up from the couch, leaving the book he was reading closed without any mark. It doesn’t matter. Viktor doubts he knew what the chapter was about even before you arrived.
His hands are eager. They settle in the roundness of your cheeks, finding like a miracle that your skin it’s so soft and warm. “You’re really here.”
It wouldn’t be the first time the water fools him, allowing him to imagine both of you, floating weightless inside an infinite of blue. Hands intertwined.
You oughtn’t to fear the place you come from.
“I almost got caught,” you laugh, leaning against the safety of his touch. Against the cold surrounding you in her way toward the lighthouse, Viktor is your refuge. “They hired new fishermen. Mister Gavin was talking with them in his office up until midnight.”
That catches Viktor’s attention, obliged to recoil his touch. “New fishermen?” Upon his hiring as lighthouse keeper, Viktor had seen the dark silhouettes of the fishing boats sailing on open water during the night, where fish could be easily collected. Every journey, fewer boats get out. And even less returned.
“He has always been a greedy man,” you sigh, sinking into the couch. He hopes your shampoo gets imprinted in his pillow for at least a couple of days. Until he gets to see you again. “He doesn’t wish to understand Piltover will never be the same as it was thanks to her.”
Viktor settles next to you. “I suppose sometimes dwelling in the past it’s the only thing one can do to avoid going mad.”
He observes you, loving that intense gaze that could only be described as a frozen storm, cloudy and deep and dark from all the tears he’s sure you don’t dare to shed.
“I hope he goes mad,” your voice is barely audible. A shivery whisper that crawls inside his chest. “I hope I get to do it.”
That need starts to nudge again the gate of his reason. You’re not like this, he wants to tell you. The poison dripping down every syllable, breaking its enchanting cadence. But it would be senseless to utter so—because your family has sworn upon themselves to forge you into whatever monstrosity the townsfolk’s rumors proclaim.
“There lies the reason behind your current visits?” Part of him lets slip, a terrible weight settled onto his heart.
Your chuckle echoes, a whisper that would remain even after you leave. “No, Viktor. It isn’t.” You drink from his golden eyes, twin stars guiding your way. You aren’t sure what this night has of special. It’s just a moonless night, full of stars in the sky. The sea laps all the same. “I would never drag you into my mess.” Not as Gavin and his new wife had dragged Astraia, hoping for you to grow all alone, feeding the desperation to seek freedom.
“I wouldn’t have minded if you do,” he says, and your eyes start to blurry.
His fingers are rough and cold, yet he touches you with the same delicate nature one would hold a butterfly. Afraid that if he takes too much, you’d be all but a shattered dream.
“I’m happy here,” you mutter, the secret you’re so afraid to say out loud if bad luck ever tries to snatch it. “I can’t go anywhere, but here… here I don’t want to run away.” And it terrifies you. All your life, wishing to be someone else, to forsake the family name impose upon your existence. Yet not even the waves could take what runs through your veins. “I loathe this place with every fiber of my being, but now you’re here and… everything has changed.”
It's like it was before. The blue of the sea is shinier, and the call doesn’t reverberate in your bones with the ache of impossibility. It calls you home. Morphed into one endless way up into the end of every lament.
For the first time in so long, you don’t want to leave.
His smile breaks your heart, and you let yourself cry, letting him hold you while every tear erases the grey colors once painted over the vibrant memories of your mother’s tight embrace, her haunting voice calling you to sleep. The way the sand got under your toes after one swimming afternoon. All the ghostly laughter you blessed upon the cliff.
Before everything turned crimson and empty.
“I will keep this place safe,” he says, his voice muffled against your hair. “For you.”
Your hands grab his shoulders, and for a moment it seems like you wish to disappear in him, to forever echo the rhythm of his heartbeat as another lullaby.
You can’t see him, so he dares to deposit a kiss on your forehead, muttering things you cannot understand.
“Come with me,” he says after an eternity that’s cut too short.
*~*~*~*
The water’s cold, but it lights every nerve on fire once you submerge.
Viktor slips behind you, your hands never leaving his once your tears are erased by the sea water hitting in gentle waves. A moonless night with inky water, yet you don’t have to fear the abyss. You have never.
“Does your leg hurt?” you say, waddling toward him. You could guide him toward the cliffiside where the coral grows meters under the surface, so he could feel the fish between his legs and grab at the rock for safety.
“N-no,” Viktor shivers. “The cold helps to numb sometimes.”
It’s barely visible outside of the lighthouse’s rotating beacon, which give you enough courage to inch shamelessly closer, until your dress it’s tangled in his legs. Because it’s your time to hold him, soak him in your warmth.
Astraia’s words haunt you, but what reputation do you still hold? You don’t care to stain the last name they force you to keep.
“Numb what?” You can barely feel his hands ghosting over your back. Afraid.
He averts your gaze. But you can’t let him; with your warm hands cupping his cheeks. Despite the coldness, you could see the faint blush on his cheeks every time the lighthouse painted the waves gold.
“Are you afraid of me?” you whisper, his fingers intertwined with yours.
“Never.” His voice is gruff, the grasp so tight his knuckles are bone-white. “But… there are some things meant to remain hidden.”
“Why?” You know why, but you have stopped caring about the reason long ago. “I don’t want to keep them locked any longer.” It was as if sometimes they drowned you, blocking every breath from your throat at the mere thought of saying those words your tongue longed to express.
Your name has never been more precious that in the way Viktor whispers it. A prayer he covets for only him to call.
And you’ll let him. Of course you’ll let him.
“I don’t want to, either,” he says, golden stars fluttering close one his lips beckon yours, soft and pliant and so sweet. Barely a sheepish brush, before you push yourself closer, his hands grabbing handfuls of floating fabric on your lower back.
You get lost. Barely keeping afloat in the great tides of emotions sieging you. Yet Viktor doesn’t care if your lips taste like salt, if you’re shivering and breaking in sobs. Despite all the love, he knows it hurts—being loved hurts by the mere thought of all this being stolen with the same easiness it could be taken away.
But he won’t let it.
“You make me feel free,” you utter, breathless. And this otherworldly vision will forever haunt him; your bright eyes, swollen lips. The smile that’s just for him.
“I’m in love with you,” he says, his voice dripping with dread, the ever-present possibility of rejection.
Your laughter fills him with pain, but Viktor quickly realizes, by how you embrace him, that it’s not meant to be mocking. It’s euphoric, triumphant in the way you call for him. “Viktor, kiss me.”
And he does, up until the cold seeps into his bones, threatening into leaving him up to the design of the sea. Yet you hold him close, guide him back to the shore where you both lay in the sand like teenagers laughing at the constellations above because they would never have the brightest stars in all the skies, light only meant to gaze upon you.
And you love those stars, making them close so you can kiss them along with every precious feature of his face that you’re decided to carve in your memory.
Viktor embraces you despite the warmth of the sand seeping through your clothes, the humid summer air blowing hair into his face. You want to tell him the truth, to let your throat sore from a scream so everything and everyone could hear it.
But you’re afraid. You know this place always takes those who you love, and you dread for Viktor to be next. So you don’t, and instead, cuddle up right into his side, your cheek pressed against his chest as his breath slowly grows steady.
He’s asleep, but his hands are still taking yours, his chin over your head.
“I love you, too, Viktor,” you mutter, so low either he or the sea can hear you. Yet the lighthouse sees, casting shadows along your refuge on the coastline like a blanket.
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fanfictionismyaddiction · 2 months ago
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A Tyrell in the Lion's Den (Part 6)
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Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5
Word count: 3.4k
Pairing: Tywin Lannister x Tyrell!reader
Summary: Tommen and Margaery's wedding serves as a backdrop for Tywin Lannister's strategic maneuvering to form alliances while addressing the rising influence of the Faith Militant. In a private moment, Tywin confesses to Y/n his past misjudgments
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I awoke to the faint light of dawn streaming through the grand windows of our chambers. Tywin was already awake, sitting at the edge of the bed, half-dressed, his mind clearly at work on whatever scheme or strategy would occupy his day. He had always been a man who thrived on discipline, even in the quiet moments of our life together.
I reached out and placed my hand on his back, feeling the tension there, the weight of his responsibilities. “Are you already thinking about what comes next?” I asked softly.
Tywin turned his head slightly, offering me a rare, fleeting smile. “Always,” he replied. “But today is different.”
“How so?”
He stood and began fastening the rest of his tunic, the crimson and gold of his Lannister sigil standing out starkly against his broad frame. “Today, we announce our intentions for the future. The court will see that our union isn’t just a marriage of convenience but the start of something much greater.”
I knew what he meant. Our marriage wasn’t just a consolidation of power—it was a statement. Together, we would rule over King’s Landing as the hand of the King in ways that others had only dreamed of.
But for all of Tywin’s careful planning, there was something weighing heavily on my mind. His children, specifically Cersei and Jaime, remained a wild card in our future. Cersei’s hatred for me was evident, and though Jaime maintained a polite distance, there was a coldness in his demeanor that could not be ignored.
And then there was Tommen—innocent, sweet Tommen, whose fate now intertwined with Margaery’s ambitions. The future of our families lay before us like a delicate web, one that could easily unravel if not handled with care.
When Tywin and I descended into the throne room later that day, the courtiers were already gathered, their eyes flickering between us with a mixture of curiosity and thinly veiled jealousy. I had grown accustomed to the murmurs that followed me wherever I went, the whispers of power and influence that came with being the new Lady Lannister.
As we approached the Iron Throne, I could feel the weight of their gazes upon me. Tywin, ever the strategist, walked with the confidence of a man who had already won the game before it had even begun. He had no need to flaunt his authority—it was understood.
The small council had gathered, along with the nobility of King’s Landing, each eager to see what would unfold next. I stood by Tywin’s side, my hand resting lightly on his arm, a silent display of unity.
Varys, standing in his usual place at the foot of the throne, offered me a small, knowing smile. The Spider had already tried to warn me about the dangers of the game, and though I had not heeded his advice, I was acutely aware of the risks involved in my new position. He would no doubt be watching closely, waiting to see if I would rise or fall.
Cersei stood near the dais, her face a mask of indifference, though the tension in her posture betrayed her feelings. She hated this new reality—hated that her father had taken another wife, a younger wife, who threatened to upend the delicate balance of power she had fought so hard to maintain. I knew better than to underestimate her, but for now, she was simply another player in this endless game.
As the days passed, preparations for Tommen’s marriage to Margaery began in earnest. Margaery was already deeply entrenched in Tommen’s affections, her gentle manipulation working wonders on the young king. I had seen her in action, her sweetness never failing to bring a blush to Tommen’s cheeks, her laughter like music to his ears.
There was no doubt that Margaery would be the perfect queen for him—ambitious yet nurturing, capable of guiding Tommen without him ever realizing he was being led. I admired her skill in that regard; it was a delicate dance, one she performed with precision and grace.
Tommen had taken to me as well, his shy affection for his new grandmother a refreshing change from the coldness of his siblings. He often sought me out in the quieter moments of court life, asking for advice or simply enjoying the company of someone who, unlike Cersei, did not seek to dominate him.
One afternoon, as we walked through the gardens with Ser Pounce trailing behind us, Tommen turned to me, his youthful face full of earnestness. “Do you think I’ll be a good king?”
His question gave me pause. He was so young, so innocent, and yet the weight of the crown already rested heavily on his small shoulders. Taking his hand in mine. “You are kind, Tommen. That is something many kings lack. And you have a good heart. That will guide you when times are difficult.”
He looked up at me with wide, trusting eyes. “And Margaery?”
I smiled gently. “Margaery will help you. She is wise beyond her years, and she cares for you deeply. Together, the two of you will rule with both strength and compassion.”
Tommen seemed comforted by my words, and I couldn’t help but feel a surge of protectiveness for him. He was the future of the realm, and Margaery would ensure that future was bright.
As Tywin’s new wife, it was expected by him that I would sit beside him during meetings of the small council. Though I had no official position of power, my presence was a statement in itself—one that reminded the court that I was not merely a decorative piece, but a partner in Tywin’s ambitions.
One such meeting took place shortly after our marriage. As the council gathered to discuss the state of the realm, I could feel the eyes of each member flickering toward me, gauging my influence. Tywin, ever the master of control, did not openly acknowledge my presence, but he made sure I was seated at his right hand, a subtle show of support.
As the meeting unfolded, talk turned to Dorne and the fate of Myrcella. Oberyn Martell’s death had left a bitter taste in the mouths of the Dornish, and there were whispers of rebellion stirring in the south. Some of the council members urged Tywin to recall Myrcella, to bring her back to the safety of King’s Landing.
Tywin, however, remained resolute. “Myrcella will stay in Dorne,” he said, his voice brooking no argument. “The Martells may be unhappy with recent events, but they will not harm her. She is their future queen, and they will not jeopardize that.”
There was silence in the room, and I felt the weight of Tywin’s decision settle over us all. It was a bold move, one that would either solidify our position in Dorne or lead to further unrest. But I trusted Tywin’s judgment—he had never steered the Lannisters wrong before, and I had no reason to doubt him now.
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The day of Tommen and Margaery's wedding dawned bright and warm, the skies over King's Landing a rare, cloudless blue. The air was thick with anticipation, for this wedding was not just a union of two young people, but a carefully orchestrated display of power. As I prepared myself for the event, donning a gown of deep emerald and gold, I felt the weight of it—the significance of every detail, every whispered conversation, every strategic alliance that would be formed beneath the guise of celebration.
The Sept of Baelor had been adorned in flowers, tapestries, and banners bearing the sigils of both the Lannisters and Tyrells. Margaery had spared no expense, and the result was a breathtakingly beautiful scene—designed to distract from the undercurrent of tension that ran through the court. Every noble in the realm had gathered to witness the marriage, and though the smiles and laughter were plentiful, there were whispers of darker things on the horizon.
Tommen stood at the front of the sept, resplendent in his regal attire, the weight of his crown almost too much for his youthful frame. Beside him, Margaery was radiant in a gown of pale gold and ivory, her beauty and charm undeniable. She had captured the heart of the young king, as she had intended, and now the Seven Kingdoms would witness the formal cementing of her power as queen.
I sat with Tywin in the front row, my hand resting gently on his arm, a subtle reminder of our unity. Around us, the small council and prominent lords and ladies of the realm observed the proceedings with a mixture of awe and calculation. Tywin's gaze was unreadable, though I knew his mind was already working through the next steps—how to secure the future, how to eliminate threats, and how to ensure the Lannisters' continued dominance.
But as I watched her glide down the aisle, her beauty and grace captivating every eye in the sept, I knew this wedding was only the surface of the true game being played. Beside me, Tywin's gaze was steady, his mind likely working through the intricate webs of alliances and rivalries that today’s ceremony masked. He would make his moves soon, aligning the right houses to ensure Lannister control. Yet, amid it all, I sensed something darker stirring beneath the surface.
After the ceremony, we were seated at the grand feast that followed, the hall filled with music, laughter, and the clinking of goblets. I could feel the weight of the court’s attention on us—on me, especially. As Lady Lannister now, my role had shifted, and every word I spoke or movement I made would be watched with interest. I was not only the wife of Tywin Lannister, but also a vital piece in the future he was building.
Tywin wasted no time. I watched as he spoke quietly with my father, their conversation quick but full of meaning. Lord Randyll Tarly, a man known for his loyalty to the Tyrells, was engaged soon after. Tywin knew exactly who needed to be reminded of their place, of their ties to the Lannisters, and he did it with the grace and subtlety that only he possessed.
As the evening wore on, Tywin turned his attention to something we both knew had been festering for some time—the Faith of the Seven and its growing influence. The High Sparrow, though not present at the wedding, was a name whispered with increasing frequency, a man whose asceticism appealed to the poor and the discontented. Tywin leaned close, his voice a low murmur that only I could hear.
"They are gaining too much power, these fanatics. If we do not deal with them soon, they will become a threat far more dangerous than any army."
I nodded, knowing that the Faith's sudden rise was no accident. "What will you do?"
"I'll speak with the High Septon," he replied, his tone cold. "He will be reminded of his place. If he cannot control his flock, we will find someone who can."
His determination was clear, and though I agreed that the Faith could not be allowed to grow unchecked, a part of me worried. The High Sparrow, from what I had heard, was not a man easily swayed by gold or power. This would not be a problem solved with a simple bribe or threat.
As the music continued and the guests danced, Tywin's mind was already on the next steps. The marriage between Tommen and Margaery was secured, but the threats to the realm were multiplying. He turned his gaze eastward, toward a danger far greater than the Faith of the Seven—Daenerys Targaryen.
"She is coming," Tywin said, his voice thoughtful yet firm. "With dragons, no less. The girl is gathering an army, and when she crosses the Narrow Sea, the realm will be plunged into chaos."
"Do you think she has enough strength to take the throne?" I asked, my curiosity piqued by the thought of the young queen with dragons at her back.
"Not yet. But she grows stronger each day. We will need to form alliances with those who stand against her—if she reaches Westeros with her dragons, she will be unstoppable unless we act quickly."
His words were heavy with foresight, and I felt a shiver run down my spine. Tywin's enemies were many, but Daenerys, with her claim to the throne and the magic of her dragons, was something different entirely. His mind was already working through the strategies needed to defeat this new threat, but I could sense that Daenerys' dragons presented an unknown factor that unsettled even him. The Lannisters had ruled with wealth and military might for generations, but dragons were a force beyond mere politics and armies. Yet I knew that he would face her with the same cold determination that had seen him through every other challenge.
As the night deepened and the feast reached its height, the court began to turn its attention to the long-held tradition of the bedding ceremony. Whispers spread among the lords and ladies as they anticipated the moment when the bride and groom would be carried off to their chambers, but I knew that Tywin would not let such a display happen at our grandsons wedding. When the courtiers made their first crude jests, suggesting that Tommen and Margaery should be “properly bedded,” Tywin rose from his seat. His presence alone silenced the room, and he spoke with the authority of the Hand of the King, the Warden of the West, and the father of the realm’s most powerful family.
“There will be no bedding ceremony tonight,” Tywin declared, his voice cutting through the revelry like a blade. “The king and queen will retire with the dignity befitting their station. Anyone who dares challenge that will answer to me.” The room fell into a hushed silence, the threat implicit in Tywin's words hanging heavy in the air. No one dared to contradict him, and Margaery flashed him a grateful smile, clearly relieved that she would be spared the indignity of the ceremony.
As the evening wore on, I could feel the eyes of the court upon me. As Lady Lannister, I was now a central figure in the power dynamics of King’s Landing. The courtiers watched my every move, eager to see how I would adapt to my new role. Some sought my favor, hoping to align themselves with the most powerful family in Westeros. Others viewed me with suspicion, wondering if my loyalties still lay with the Tyrells.
Margaery, ever the master of courtly games, had already begun to weave her own web of influence. She and I exchanged knowing glances throughout the night, a silent understanding passing between us. We were allies, bound by our marriages and our shared ambitions. But we both knew that, in the end, we played our own games.
As I moved through the hall, accepting congratulations and well-wishes, I could sense the shifting allegiances around me. The court was a dangerous place, and I would need to navigate it with care. But with Tywin at my side, I felt invincible.
As the night drew to a close, I found myself standing beside Tywin on a balcony overlooking the city. The lights of King’s Landing stretched out before us, and the distant sound of the feast still echoed in the halls behind us. “This is only the beginning,” Tywin said, his voice low and full of purpose. “The realm is ours now, but we must secure it for the future.”
I turned to him, my hand resting on his arm. “And what of the threats we face? The Faith, Daenerys, the unrest in the North?”
Tywin’s gaze was steady, his resolve unshakable. “We will deal with them, one by one. The Faith will be brought to heel, Daenerys will be stopped, and the North will be subdued. The Lannisters have ruled for generations, and we will continue to rule.”
I nodded, knowing that he was right. Together, we would shape the future of Westeros. And no one would stand in our way.
As the first light of dawn began to break over the horizon, I knew that a new era had begun—an era of Lannister dominance, with Tywin and me at the helm. And I was ready for whatever came next.
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As the celebrations for Tommen and Margaery’s wedding faded into memory, the quiet of our chambers enveloped us like a soft blanket. The flickering candlelight cast shadows on the walls, creating an intimate atmosphere. I sat beside Tywin on a plush chaise, feeling the weight of the day’s events still lingering in the air.
He had been unusually contemplative after the feast, his mind clearly occupied with thoughts beyond the revelry. As the door closed softly behind the guards, sealing us in our private sanctuary, I turned to him, curious.
“Tywin?” I asked gently, seeking to draw him from his thoughts.
Tywin leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees, a rare vulnerability flickering across his features. “What many fail to understand is that I once underestimated her, Daenerys i mean” he admitted, his voice low and steady. “Years ago, when she was still a child, I believed her to be inconsequential—a pawn in a game of thrones played by her brother, Viserys. I thought her exile meant she would pose no danger to us.”
What do you mean?” I pressed, intrigued by his revelation.
“I had the opportunity to eliminate the Targaryen bloodline entirely. Had I acted then, when she was weak and alone, I could have extinguished any spark of rebellion before it ignited,” Tywin confessed, his tone grave. “But I believed her to be just a girl, incapable of rising to any challenge. I failed to see her potential, the fire within her.”
His gaze grew distant, lost in the past. “Now, she has dragons—real power—and an army of followers who believe in her cause. She is no longer just the last remnant of a fallen dynasty. She is a threat.”
I felt a chill run down my spine at the weight of his words. “Do you regret that decision? That you didn’t act when you had the chance?”
Tywin’s eyes met mine, and there was a flicker of something I hadn’t seen before—a hint of doubt. “Regret is a luxury I cannot afford. Every choice has its consequences, and I am a man of action, not one to dwell on what might have been. However,” he added, “I am now painfully aware that the Targaryen legacy cannot be dismissed lightly.”
The realization of his earlier miscalculation resonated deeply within me. “So what will we do about her?” I asked, my heart pounding at the thought of confronting such a powerful adversary.
“We must be prepared. She will seek to reclaim what she believes is rightfully hers, and we cannot afford to underestimate her again. Our alliances, the support of the lords, the strength of our armies—these will be crucial.” Tywin’s voice took on a sharper edge, fueled by the urgency of the situation. “And we must use this wedding to our advantage, solidifying our position while keeping a watchful eye on her movements.”
I could see the wheels turning in his mind, strategizing how best to navigate this new threat. The tension in the room felt almost palpable, yet there was something else—an electric connection between us, a shared understanding of the battles that lay ahead.
“Tywin,” I said softly, wanting to bridge the gap that had grown between our shared ambitions and the personal bond we were forging, “I know you will do what is necessary to protect us. But remember that you are not alone in this. We are a team now, and I will stand with you.”
He turned to me, his expression softening for just a moment, and I could see the flicker of appreciation in his eyes. “I know that, Y/n. Your loyalty and strength are invaluable. But in this world, it is often the ones closest to us that can become the most dangerous. I cannot afford to lose you in the midst of this chaos.”
In that quiet moment, the weight of our shared responsibilities settled between us, but so did an undeniable bond. Tywin reached for my hand, intertwining our fingers in a gesture that felt both protective and possessive.
“We will face whatever comes together,” he vowed, his grip firm, grounding me in the reality of our situation.
As we sat together, the shadows of the chamber danced around us, but within that darkness, I felt a flicker of hope. Together, we would navigate the intricate and treacherous path that lay ahead, united in our purpose and the promise of what we could build together—a future that would not be easily extinguished.
Taglist: @mamawiggers1980
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dee-writes-angst · 7 months ago
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DROWNING
FEATURING Liam Mairi x reader
SUMMARY seeing the ghost of you hurts almost as bad as watching you go.
CONTENT WARNINGS major character loss, depression, depictions of grief
AUTHORS NOTE I don't know what it is right now, but I am just living for writing about grief. Sorry, not sorry! <3
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"Look at me," Liam croaks from where he's splayed out on the ground by Deigh. Violet is sobbing loudly in Xaden's arms on the other side of him, but you can't hear them. Not when your ears feel like they've been filled with cotton when the love of your life is lying weakly on the ground beside you dying.
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He's dying.
Oh gods.
As the realization sinks in, a heavy weight presses against your chest, squeezing the air from your lungs. Panic rises like a tide within you, threatening to overwhelm your senses. You reach out to Liam, your hands trembling as they hover over him, unsure of what to do, of how to help him.
"Stay with me, Liam," you plead, your voice barely a whisper, yet it reverberates with desperation. "Please, don't leave me."
But Liam's eyes are distant, glassy orbs that seem to stare into a void beyond your reach. His breathing is shallow, each exhale a painful reminder of his fragile state. You feel a tear escape your eye, tracing a path down your cheek as you struggle to hold back the flood of emotions threatening to engulf you.
Around you, the world seems to blur into an indistinct haze. The sounds of chaos and anguish fade into a distant hum, overshadowed by the deafening silence that fills your ears. All that exists in this moment is Liam, lying motionless before you, his life slipping away with each passing second.
Memories flood your mind like a torrential downpour, each one a bittersweet reminder of the moments you've shared together. The laughter, the tears, the whispered promises exchanged in the dead of night—they all swirl together in a kaleidoscope of emotions, too painful to bear yet too precious to let go.
You clench your fists, feeling the sting of helplessness gnawing at your insides. You would give anything—anything at all—to turn back time, to undo whatever led you to this moment, to save Liam from this cruel fate.
But time is a relentless force, indifferent to your pleas and regrets. And as you watch the light slowly fade from Liam's eyes, you realize with a sinking heart that there is nothing you can do to stop it.
"Please, Liam," you whisper, your voice cracking with grief. "I love you."
Liam's gaze meets yours, a flicker of recognition dances in his fading eyes. His lips part, words trembling on the precipice of his breath. With a herculean effort, he manages to muster the strength to speak, his voice barely a whisper, but each syllable heavy with emotion.
"Please…," he rasps, his voice barely audible above the din of chaos surrounding you. "You have to… keep living. For me."
His words strike you like a dagger to the heart, the pain of his plea tearing through the fragile facade of composure you've struggled to maintain. Tears stream down your cheeks unabated, hot and salty against your skin as you shake your head in disbelief.
"No, Liam," you choke out, your voice raw with anguish. "I can't… I can't do this without you."
But Liam's hand finds yours, his touch feeble yet filled with a quiet strength that belies his frailty. His fingers intertwine with yours, holding on with a determination born of love and desperation.
"You have to," he insists, his voice growing weaker with each passing moment. "You're stronger than you think… You can't let this… destroy you."
His words hang in the air like a solemn vow, a testament to the depth of his love and the sacrifice he's willing to make for you. And as you look into his eyes, you see the truth mirrored within them—the agonizing realization that this is goodbye.
A sob escapes your lips, a gut-wrenching cry that echoes through the desolate landscape of your heart. You bury your face in Liam's chest, clinging to him with a desperation born of fear and despair.
"I can't do this without you," you whisper brokenly, your voice a mere shadow of its former strength. "Please, don't leave me."
But Liam's grip weakens, his breaths growing shallower with each passing second. His eyes flutter closed, and for a moment, there's nothing but the deafening silence of impending loss.
Then, with a final exhale, he slips away, leaving behind nothing but the hollow ache of his absence. And as you cradle his lifeless form in your arms, the weight of his words settles over you like a shroud, a solemn reminder of the unbearable burden of grief that now lies ahead.
For in that moment, you realize that you've lost more than just the love of your life—you've lost a part of yourself, a piece of your soul that can never be replaced. And as you mourn the emptiness that now fills your heart, you know that nothing will ever be the same again.
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There is no respite from the suffocating weight of grief that hangs heavy around your neck, dragging you down into the depths of despair.
You move through the world like a shadow of your former self, hollow and numb, the spark of life extinguished from your eyes. Friends and loved ones reach out to offer comfort, but their words fall on deaf ears, their gestures meaningless in the face of the gaping chasm that now consumes your soul.
Nights are the cruelest, long and lonely stretches of darkness that stretch on into eternity. You lie awake in bed, staring up at the ceiling, your mind consumed by thoughts of Liam—of all the things you wish you had said, all the moments you wish you could relive, all the ways you failed to save him.
The pain is relentless, a constant companion that gnaws at your insides, leaving you hollow and empty. You try to drown it out with alcohol, with drugs, with anything that will numb the ache in your heart, but nothing can fill the void left by Liam's absence.
And so, you continue to exist, day after day, trapped in a never-ending cycle of sorrow and regret. You wonder if it would have been easier if you had died with him, if you could have spared yourself this endless torment.
But deep down, you know that even death would offer no escape from the torment of your memories, no relief from the agony of your loss. And so you carry on, a shell of the person you once were, forever haunted by the ghost of the love you lost.
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Days melted into weeks, and weeks into months, but the ache in my heart remained unyielding, a constant reminder of the void that Liam's absence had left behind. I found myself adrift in a sea of memories, unable to escape the relentless tide of grief that threatened to consume me.
Each morning brought with it a new battle, a struggle to find the strength to face another day without him by my side. I would drag myself out of bed, my limbs heavy with exhaustion, my mind clouded with sorrow, and force myself to move forward, one agonizing step at a time.
But no matter how hard I tried to bury my pain beneath layers of routine and responsibility, it always found a way to claw its way back to the surface, a gaping wound that refused to heal. I would catch myself staring blankly at the wall, lost in the labyrinth of my thoughts, my mind a swirling maelstrom of regret and longing.
It was in those moments of quiet desperation that I would feel him—Liam's presence hovering just beyond the edge of my consciousness, a whisper in the wind, a flicker of light in the darkness. I would close my eyes and reach out to him, my fingers grasping at the empty air, longing for the warmth of his touch, the sound of his voice, the comfort of his embrace.
But he was always just out of reach, a ghostly apparition that danced on the fringes of my perception, taunting me with the promise of solace that I knew would never come. And yet, I couldn't bring myself to let go—not when the mere thought of him was the only thing keeping me tethered to the world of the living.
I tried to lose myself in my work, throwing myself into my studies with a fervor bordering on obsession. But no matter how many hours I spent buried in books, no matter how many experiments I conducted in the sterile confines of the lab, I couldn't shake the feeling of emptiness that gnawed at my soul.
My friends and family tried to help, offering their support and encouragement in the hopes of lifting my spirits. They would invite me out for dinner, take me for long walks in the park, even organize weekend getaways to try and distract me from my pain.
But I couldn't escape the suffocating weight of grief that hung over me like a shroud, a darkness that followed me wherever I went, tainting even the most mundane moments with its oppressive presence. I would smile and nod and pretend to be okay, but inside, I was crumbling, piece by agonizing piece.
It wasn't until one particularly dark night, when the weight of my sorrow threatened to crush me beneath its relentless onslaught, that I finally reached my breaking point. I found myself standing on the edge of a precipice, staring out into the yawning abyss that stretched out before me, the urge to let go—to surrender to the sweet release of oblivion—almost overwhelming.
But then, in the depths of my despair, I felt a hand on my shoulder, a gentle pressure that pulled me back from the brink. I turned, expecting to see nothing but the empty darkness of my own mind, but instead, I found myself face to face with Liam—or rather, a ghostly apparition that bore his likeness.
I blinked, unable to believe my eyes. "Liam?" I whispered, my voice barely a breath in the stillness of the night.
He smiled—a sad, wistful smile that tugged at my heartstrings. "It's me," he said, his voice a mere whisper in the silence that surrounded us.
Tears welled up in my eyes as I reached out to touch him, my fingers trembling with disbelief. "But how?" I asked, my voice choked with emotion. "How is this possible?"
Liam's smile faded, replaced by a look of profound sadness. "I'm not really here," he said, his voice heavy with regret. "I'm just a figment of your imagination—a manifestation of your grief."
I shook my head, unwilling to accept the truth. "No," I protested, my voice rising in desperation. "You're real. You're here with me. I can feel you."
But Liam's expression remained unchanged, his eyes filled with a quiet resignation. "I'm sorry," he said, his voice barely audible above the sound of my own heartbeat. "I wish I could stay, but I can't. You have to let me go."
I felt a surge of panic rise within me, a primal instinct that screamed out in protest. "No," I cried, my voice echoing in the emptiness that surrounded us. "I won't. I can't. I need you."
But Liam shook his head, his features fading into the darkness like smoke on the wind. "You don't need me," he said, his voice a distant echo in the recesses of my mind. "You're stronger than you think. You have to find the strength to carry on, even without me."
And then he was gone, leaving me alone in the darkness, the emptiness of his absence a physical ache that echoed in the depths of my soul. I sank to my knees, tears streaming down my face, my heart shattering into a million jagged pieces.
But even as I wept, a small seed of hope took root within me—a tiny flicker of light amidst the darkness that threatened to engulf me. I realized that Liam was right—that I couldn't continue to cling to him, to the memory of what we once had.
I had to find a way to let go—to honor his memory by living my life to the fullest, by embracing the future with open arms, even in the face of uncertainty and pain. It wouldn't be easy, I knew, but I was determined to try—for Liam, and for myself.
And so, with a heavy heart and a newfound sense of purpose, I picked myself up off the ground and began to walk—away from the edge of the abyss, away from the darkness that had threatened to consume me, toward a future filled with possibility and hope.
It wouldn't happen overnight, I knew. The road ahead would be long and difficult, fraught with challenges and setbacks that would test my resolve at every turn. But I was ready—ready to face whatever the future held, armed with nothing but my love for Liam and the knowledge that he would always be with me, guiding me every step of the way.
And as I walked, the darkness began to recede, slowly but surely, replaced by the warm glow of dawn breaking on the horizon. I smiled, tears still streaming down my face, but now they were tears of hope, of gratitude, of a newfound sense of purpose.
For even though Liam was gone, his love remained—a beacon of light that would guide me through the darkest nights and lead me toward a future filled with possibility and promise.
And with that thought in my heart, I took my first steps into the unknown, ready to embrace whatever lay ahead, secure in the knowledge that I would never truly be alone. Liam would always be with me, a whisper in the wind, a flicker of light in the darkness, a love that would never fade away.
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macbethsymphony · 6 months ago
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The Swordsman and the Blacksmith | Chapter 10
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Roronoa Zoro x Reader
Chapter wc: 3.5k
Chapter rating: SFW
Content/Warnings: NSFW, 18+, Fem!Reader, Enemies to lovers, SLOW slow burn, Eventual smut
Summary: Your skills as a blacksmith have made you desirable to both the government and pirates. You know you have to leave this island if you want to escape your fate, but that doesn't make the choice of leaving any easier. Roronoa Zoro is intrigued by your skills as a blacksmith. Your work is like nothing he's ever seen before. Unfortunately, you're hot-headed and he's rude and you both definitely hate each other.
Chapters [1][2][3][4][5][6][7][8][9]
Masterlist
Slowly crossposting from AO3 Feel like binging the rest of it? it's all there!
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Chapter 10: Chasing Distractions
The relentless midday sun bore down through the windows of the crow’s nest, searing rays infiltrating your closed eyelids. A low groan escaped your lips. The persistent throb of a headache mercilessly intensified with each passing moment. Slowly, you forced your eyes open, grappling with the harsh light that invaded your senses. The assault on your vision made you want to hurl. You mindlessly pulled the blanket draped over you over your head in a pointless attempt to block out the sun.
You stopped midway.
It wasn’t a blanket.
It was the swordsman’s overcoat.
You snorted at the unexpected kind gesture. It smelled like the sea air, his faint musk in the background. You blushed. What in the hells did you think you were doing.
With a weary groan, you mustered the strength to elevate yourself into a sitting position, wincing as the movement aggravated the relentless throbbing in your head. The events of the previous night played out in a hazy cascade of laughter, intertwining with the persistent drumming within your skull.
Chopper was going to kill you.
The thought of facing the doctor’s inevitable lecture sent a shiver down your back. A reminder of your foolishness for indulging so far beyond your well-known threshold.
You took in a deep breath, wishing you could go back to the mindless buzz of alcohol. You wanted to forget, let go of reality if just for a moment longer.
With clumsy movements you made your way down the ladder, precariously juggling your swords and the folded overcoat.
The ship's deck greeted you with a gentle sway, a comforting rhythm amidst the disorientation of your hangover. You squinted against the bright sunlight, the intensity of which only served to worsen the ache behind your eyes. You instinctively made your way towards the infirmary in search of some sort of relief. You might as well get it over with the scolding too.
The pounding ache in your head seemed to worsen with every step you took, each movement sending fresh waves of nausea crashing over you. As you crashed into the infirmary, Chopper's concerned gaze immediately locked onto you, his expression a blend of relief and reproach.
"(Y/n), there you are!" Chopper exclaimed, his voice filled with worry. "I've been looking all over for you. How are you feeling?"
You winced at the sound of his voice, the throbbing ache in your head growing as the words seemed to echo in your mind. "Like shit, Chopper” you muttered, wittiness escaping you. You sank into a chair next to the reindeer’s desk.
Chopper's brow furrowed in concern as he approached you, his small hooves clacking against the wooden floor with each step. "You know you're not supposed to drink, especially when you're not fully recovered." He said, his tone gentle yet tinged with disapproval.
You rubbed at your temples, the pain in your head making it difficult to focus on his words. "I know, Doc," you admitted, your voice strained with discomfort. "I just… wanted to forget.”
The little reindeer's expression softened with sympathy as he reached out to examine you, the speech he’d been preparing dying in the face of your confession. "I understand that you're going through a lot," he said softly, his tiny hoofs gentle against your forehead. "But you need to take better care of yourself. Drinking this much when you're still recovering can only make things worse."
You sighed deeply, the weight of his words settling heavily on your shoulders. "I know,” you murmured, feeling a pang of guilt for your reckless behavior. "I'll try to do better next time."
Chopper nodded in understanding, his eyes filled with concern as he fetched a glass of water for you to swallow the painkillers with.
“It’s almost time for lunch,” the small doctor said, looking at the clock. “You should try to eat something too.”
With a nod of gratitude for the doctor's wisdom, you eagerly reached for the glass he handed you, the urgency of your parched throat urging you on. As the cool liquid cascaded down your throat, a soothing wave of relief washed over you, quenching the dryness and temporarily alleviating the discomfort of your headache with each gulp.
With a groan you stood back up, making your way out clumsily. You turned back to Chopper with an apologetic smile. “I’m sorry, Doc,” You said. “I keep on making trouble for ya.”
The reindeer shot you a bright smile. “Don’t worry about it” he said.
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“Oh! Look who’s back from the dead!” Franky roared as you entered the galley.
You winced at the cyborg’s booming greeting, the sudden noise feeling like a hammer pounding against your skull. "Keep it down, will you?" you pleaded, making your way to your chair.
Franky's grin widened as he leaned back, amused by your obvious discomfort. "Sorry about that, Firecracker! Didn't mean to add insult to injury," he chuckled, his laughter reverberating through the room.
You shot him a half-hearted glare, your hand still pressed against your throbbing temple. "Yeah, well, consider me insulted and injured," you muttered, your attempt at humor falling flat in the face of your pounding headache.
You let your swords clank loudly as you dropped them unceremoniously on the floor next to you before throwing the coat to the swordsman.
“Thanks for the blanket.” You said as you plopped down on your chair.
Zoro caught the coat effortlessly, shooting you an amused glance. "Didn’t know you were such a lightweight,” he remarked with a grin.
You rolled your eyes. “I’m never touching alcohol ever again” you muttered under your breath.
The crew erupted into laughter at your proclamation, their amusement filling the galley. Nami, busy with a map at the nearby table, looked up with an arched eyebrow. "Sure, (Y/n), we've all said that one before," she teased, a smirk playing on her lips.
You shot Nami a weak smile, the corners of your lips twitching in resignation. "Yeah, yeah, laugh it up," you grumbled, slumping further down.
Sanji emerged from the kitchen with a knowing smile as he glanced at your disheveled appearance. "Looks like someone had a rough night," he remarked, a hint of amusement in his voice as he began setting plates of food on the table.
You shot him a mock glare, your headache slowly starting to dull. "Thanks for the observation, Chef," you retorted, reaching for a glass of water with trembling hands.
Luffy, who had been watching the exchange with barely contained amusement, couldn't contain his laughter any longer. "You're all wobbly, (Y/n)!" he exclaimed, his eyes sparkling with mirth.
You shot Luffy a pretend scowl, the sound of his laughter feeling like tiny needles piercing your already throbbing skull. "Real insightful, Captain Obvious," you grumbled, taking a sip of water to alleviate the pounding in your head.
Just as you were starting to contemplate crawling back into bed and never emerging again, Sanji set a bowl of something steaming in front of you. “A little something special to cure your hangover, my lady.”
You eyed the bowl warily, the scent wafting from the bowl somehow familiar. “Is that… Is that Mary’s recipe?” You asked the chef.
Sanji flashed you a smile. “It is,” he said proudly.
You took a spoonful, tears blurring your vision at the unexpected nostalgia. “Sanji,” you sniffed loudly, blinking back tears. “You’re the freaking best.”
The chef’s expression softened at your reaction. “Hey now, none of that,” he said gently, ruffling your hair.
You leaned back on your chair satisfied, empty bowl before you. “Hey, Nami, what’s with the map?” You asked curiously.
“We’re approaching a new island,” She answered not looking up. “I’m making a rough draft from what we can see.”
“A new island?” you exclaimed, excitement bubbling within you at the prospect of adventure. “What’s it like?”
“It looks like a pretty busy port” Nami glanced up, clearly amused by what she was about to say. “We were thinking of celebrating a little, but with your current state maybe we’ll wait until tomorrow to do that.”
“What? No!” you shouted indignantly, all thoughts of your hangover gone with the relief the painkillers provided.
The crew exchanged amused glances at your sudden enthusiasm, their own excitement mounting at the prospect of discovering a new island.
Luffy's eyes practically sparkled with anticipation. "Let’s celebrate then!" he exclaimed, already mentally preparing for a feast.
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Chopper looked at you suspiciously. You’d cleaned up and put on that one party outfit you’d brought with you. Your short skirt rode dangerously high as you leaned against the railing of the ship, observing the bustling city before you.
Despite the encroaching darkness, the streets gleamed with vibrant life. The cityscape was a dazzling tapestry, each avenue pulsating with energy. From your vantage point, the streets appeared to be an intricate dance of lights, a symphony of colors that defied the advancing night.
You couldn’t wait to set out on this new adventure. The promise of its distraction a tantalizing prospect.
The doctor approached you. His eyes narrowed in doubt, he tilted his head, brows furrowing with concern as he looked you over. “You should be resting,” he said worry apparent.
“I’ll be fine, Chopper” you reassured him, flashing the reindeer an excited grin.
He eyed you skeptically, clearly unconvinced. “Just promise me you’ll take it easy.”
“I’ll be careful” you replied, tone light and carefree.
“Promise me” he pleaded, his worry for your well-being evident in his big, doe-like eyes.
Your heart melted at the doctor’s cute face. “Fine, I promise” You conceded.
You, in fact, did not keep that promise.
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The pulsating beats of the music throbbed in sync with the adrenaline coursing through your veins, propelling you into a whirlwind of movement in the middle of the dance floor. Enveloped by a sea of people, you surrendered yourself to the intoxicating melody, letting it guide your every step and sway. The pleasant buzz of alcohol kept your mind empty, agreeably distracted… it felt good to forget.
With relentless determination, you had dragged the crew through several taverns, your thirst for a distraction from your mind unquenchable. Most of them, however, had succumbed to the allure of quieter activities or the ship’s comforting embrace. Yet, somehow, you had managed to drag Robin, Nami and an unwilling swordsman far into the night.
The two women, however, had reached their limits. "I'm too old for bar hopping," Robin remarked with a wry smile, her elegant demeanor not quite suited for the chaotic energy around her.
"And I'm too tired," Nami added, her voice laced with exhaustion as she gently placed a hand on Robin's shoulder, silently signaling their imminent departure.
“Zoro,” the navigator looked at the swordsman pleadingly. “Make sure she gets back to the ship alright?”
“She’s not my responsibility” He grumbled.
The two straw hats exchanged a long stare, a silent conversation raging quietly in their eyes as they debated their next course of action – a testament to the unspoken bond that bound the crew together.
“Fine” He conceded with a heavy sigh.
With a triumphant grin, Nami and Robin bid their farewells, disappearing into the sea of revelers. You remained unaware, lost in the euphoria of the moment as you continued to dance with wild abandon.
 Zoro kept a watchful eye on you, watching as you moved sensually in synch with a woman in front of you. He leaned back, bringing the bottle of alcohol in his hands to his lips. You were hypnotizing, abandon clear on your face. You stumbled drunkenly, he couldn’t help the smirk that played on his lips at the clumsy display.
A man. No. A boy really, caught you, fingers grazing a touch too long on your arms. He said something in your ear that made you laugh. The swordsman’s brows furrowed slightly, his grip tightening around the bottle in his hand, the glass cold against his skin as his eye narrowed with an unknown feeling of annoyance. His gaze followed the interaction between you and the stranger, a flicker of irritation dancing in the depths of his eye as he observed the boy's bold advances.
As the stranger's fingers settled on your waist, pushing your shirt up slightly so his hand touched bare skin, Zoro's jaw clenched involuntarily. His instincts screamed at him to intervene, to put an end to the encounter before it went any further, but he forced himself to stay rooted to the spot. He was there to make sure you came back to the ship safe, not monitor who you danced with.
The boy’s attempts at closeness became bolder. Zoro’s patience waned. As lips met your neck, the swordsman stood up suddenly. With purposeful movements, he navigated through the crowd with expert precision. His gaze bore into the boy’s intoxicated eyes sending a silent warning that chased him off instantly.
Turning his attention to you, Zoro’s voice cut through the din of the tavern, firm and authoritative. “Time to go,” he declared, his tone allowing no argument.
You looked up at him with hazy eyes, protesting his decision with a pout. “What? No! I’m having fun!” you objected, your words slurred with alcohol.
“We’re going back to the ship” he stated firmly.
You paid him no mind, looking around you for your dance partner. Your eyes circled back to the swordsman before you with an accusing glare. “You bastard, you scared the fun away.”
“We’re going back to the ship” He repeated.
You huffed in response, starting to make your way out of the crowd, the swordsman in tow. “I’m going to the next bar,” you announced defiantly.
“You’ve had enough for one night.” He argued, following you out of the building.
“You took away my fun, I’m fucking going to find someone else.” You ignored his comment, making your way into the streets, the cool night air feeling good against your heated cheeks.
Zoro trailed behind you, his brow furrowed in exasperation as he tried in vain to keep pace with your drunken antics. “Come on, witch, we need to get back to the ship” he called out, his voice laced with a hint of frustration as he reached out to steady you.
You turned to face him, a playful gleam in your eyes as you leaned in closer, your breath warm on his skin. “But I don’t want to” You protested coyly, your hands burying themselves in his black overcoat as you stumbled forward.
“You’re drunk” He said, as though it justified ending this night early.
“Me? Drunk? Nah, I’m just… pleasantly buzzed,” You declared, punctuating your words with an unsteady giggle.
With a playful grin, you leaned in closer. Your hand traveled from his black overcoat to the sharp curve of his jaw. You weren’t sure if it was the haze of the alcohol, or how the light of the lantern reflected softly on his features, but there was something different about the swordsman today. Your eyes scanned his face settling on soft freckles you’d never noticed before.
“You know, you’re not so bad when you’re not scowling all the time.” Your fingers danced playfully down along his throat.
His hand grabbed yours. Annoyance filling his gaze.
“That’s enough, (Y/n)” there was a warning in his voice.
“Ah!” You broke out in a wide smile. “You said my name!”
You looked at him through your lashes. “I think….” You trailed off. “I think I rather liked the sound of that, say it again” You demanded, voice laden with suggestive undertones as you pried your hand out of his, trailing your finger down his chest.
Zoro’s eye widened in surprise at your boldness, a light flush rising to his cheeks. “Let’s go before you do something you’ll regret.” He insisted.
“What if I want to do something I’ll regret?” You countered bringing him down to your level. Your lips hovering millimeters away, lidded eyes meeting each other’s.  
His hand settled on your throat softly but firmly, pushing back. “You’re drunk,” he reiterated.
You let out a small tsk in frustration, your playful demeanor morphing into stubborn insolence as you planted your feet firmly on the ground. “I don’t want to go back yet,” You protested, your tone petulant as you crossed your arms over your chest in a childish display of resistance.
Zoro sighed in resignation. “For fuck’s sake” He mumbled under his breath, scooping you up effortlessly and tossing you over his shoulder like a sack of potatoes.
You giggled at the sudden change in your vision. The hand he used to steady you felt searing hot against the coolness of your thigh, his fingers digging into the softness of your flesh.
“You’re no fun, swordsman.” You complained, giving a weak punch at his back as you swayed softly in the rhythm of his steps.
Your eyes suddenly shot open at the nausea taking over your senses. “Put me down.” You said urgently. “I’m going to throw up.”
With swift efficiency, he placed you down. You hurried drunkenly to the side of the road, hand looking for balance on a stone wall as the contents of your night hit the graveled ground. Your eyes darted around as you tried to recompose yourself. The sound of the ocean seemed further than when you’d set out of the bar.
“Oi, swordsman” you started “I think the ship’s that way.” You pointed lazily in the opposite direction you’d been moving as you let yourself drop down on your heels in exhaustion. “You’re lost aren’t you?” You asked under your breath.
“I’m not lost,” he protested, moving to pick you back up.
“Wait, wait, wait” You said putting your hand up to stop him. “If you put me upside down, I think I’ll throw up again.”
Zoro sighed as he watched you stumble to get up. “You’re a fucking handful,” he muttered under his breath, squatting down. “Come on, get on.”
“Are you going to give me a piggyback ride?” You asked excitedly.
He glared back at you.
You laughed as you wrapped your arms around his shoulders. “I didn’t know you could be such a gentleman.” You said teasingly, as you buried your face in his neck.
He grumbled something you didn’t quite catch as he picked up your legs without effort. “Which way?” he demanded.
You lazily pointed down the road you’d just gone up.
“You didn’t have to chase my fun away like that, you know?” you said lightly, the tips of your fingers playfully drawing patterns alongst the swordsman’s neck.
“I swear if you keep this up, I’m dropping you down” He warned. “Just focus on telling me which way to go.”
 You protested unintelligibly, but your fingers dropped their movements.
“You know, swordsman” You trailed off sluggishly as your eyes stayed fixed on the hypnotizing sway of his earrings. “I think I’ll let you hold Shiawase.”
He sighed. “Decide that when you’re sober.” He said softly.
You ignored the comment. “Let you work your way up to Yokubari, eventually.” You explained.
He didn’t answer.
“So how ‘bout it? A sword for a sword. You master one, I study one.” You asked.
Silence. You pointed at the next turn, he followed.
“Don’t ignore me!” You exclaimed indignantly at his lack of response.
He sighed. He stopped at a crossroad, “Which way?” He requested.
“You bastard! You’re ignoring me!” You bit down on his ear, intrusive thought winning you over in your inebriety.
“What the fuck, witch!” He shouted, trying to bring his head away from yours.
You giggled, as you pointed purposely on the wrong path.
Zoro sighed in exasperation. "You're unbelievable," he muttered, his patience wearing increasingly thin as he followed your drunken directions. The night seemed to stretch endlessly as you took wrong turn after the other, the dimly lit streets and occasional flickering lanterns creating a surreal atmosphere.
Your fingers absentmindedly started drawing patterns again. “You know, I bet you secretly enjoy being my knight in shining swords” You joked.
He snorted at the pun, a small grin appearing on his face. “You’re delusional if you think I’m enjoying this.”
Your index moved higher, near the back of his ear. His shoulders twitched as a shiver ran down his spine.
“I told you to cut it out,” he warned again.
You merely chuckled at his discomfort, your playful demeanor showing no sign of faltering.
He shook his head, the motion swaying you slightly. “I should have left you in that bar.” He said to himself.
“Where’s the fun in that?” You replied anyway, your voice full of mock innocence.
The sun was starting to appear on the horizon when you finally made it back on the ship. The swordsman’s patience was nonexistent as you continued your teasing. He’d eventually figured out you’d been making him turn in an endless loop after coming across the same lamp a dozen times. With angry steps he made his way to the women’s quarter, kicking the door open.
“What the fuck” Nami shrieked, awoken from her slumber.
“Never again,” he said disheveled from your antics.
He plopped you down unceremoniously on your bed.
You snickered drunkenly. “Thanks for the ride, swordsman,” You said with a lopsided grin as he made his way out, slamming the door shut to punctuate his ire.
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Masterlist
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hwaightme · 1 year ago
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Essence
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(masterlist) (perma-taglist)
🍃 pairing: bf!seonghwa x gn!reader 🍃 genre: heart-melting fluff, slight crack, established long-term relationship 🍃 summary: "i love the way that you're designed, love the way we intertwine, still don't need a reason why, you're beautiful and now you're mine" - you're beautiful by the rose 🍃 wordcount: 2.3k 🍃 taglist: at the end 🍃 warnings/tags: half edited half on the wings of hope, hugs kisses and cuddling, heart might hurt because of the love levels, quiet early mornings, rain, tickling, slightly suggestive, corny jokes and slang, dorky and sleepy couple with stars in their eyes, ode to hwa (simping) 🍃 a/n: i hope this provides some comfort <3 you're beautiful, adored, and shine brighter than the stars. notes, reblogs, comments always appreciated. much love!
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Clouds of cotton and linen, a feathery warmth under the faint light of the early morning. If there was one word that you could choose to describe the light grey haze that pleasantly suppressed the vibrant colours of the world around you, waiting until you were to blink away the last inklings of sleep, it would be ‘fragile’. Somewhere between dream and reality was this translucent paradise, so easily missed, and yet, if you were to find yourself in it by a stroke of good fortune, you would want it to last forever. A moment suspended on a single shared breath, under a blanket of a lazy dawn. For the first time in a while, time was on your side.
No rush, no catastrophic cycle hurrying to sweep you up into its monstrous arms, carrying you away from your humble comfort. Both by fate and by extensive planning, you had a long weekend to look forward to, and could spend it exactly how you personally wished - the rain assured you of it. The soft pitter patter against the windows, the rooftop, the brick walls that protected you was music to your ears. Thanks to the awning that covered the windows to the left of the bed - on your side of choice, one of them could be left open a sliver, letting the enticing, lulling aroma of petrichor twirl through the air and caress you. A rustling of the leaves - an unforgettable performance by the huddle of trees, the crowns of which were just outside of your apartment. And you had all the time in this fast-moving world to pace yourself and listen, enjoy the sweetest music.
Your body was still drowsy, enjoying the cosiness of the bedsheets - not that you would even dare attempt to move, considering the gentle, loving arm that had crept onto and over you at some point during the night, and the head of its owner resting on your chest, dark tresses occupying your vision as soon as you looked down. Carefully, you moved a strand away from your boyfriend’s face, biting back a foolish grin when his onyx lashes fluttered at the sensation. His hair was getting longer, the observation passed through your mind as you continued to gingerly brush it with your fingers. In silence, you were able to regard change for what it was, and thanked the sun, moon, stars for letting you stay with the same person through them all.
As the raindrops continued falling, so did your absent-minded touches, in part, because you felt your partner hug you even closer, giving you an adorable grunt of approval even in the midst of sleep, but also, because you wanted to make sure that all of this was real. Grounding yourself in the tender embrace, you found peace and clarity. How did your life lead you to this heaven? So many memories intertwined to build to this moment, how many droplets of rain could that equate to? Would it be a lake? A sea? An ocean? Perhaps you would never find an answer, nor did you want to, because this was a trickling timescale you prayed would never halt. You did not notice that your hand had frozen in the air while you were caught up in your thoughts until a deep voice, laden with a befitting somnolent raspiness, led you back.
“Why’d you stop?”
You looked down again to see a mischievous side eye from none other than your boyfriend who, judging by the question, had been awake for some time.
“Good morning, Hwa. Since when is sleeping beauty not sleeping?” you quipped with a smirk, amused by the scrunching of his nose and a shy smile while he shuffled upwards, until his head was level with yours. 
“I’d think you would know when you woke up,” he countered, leaning onto one arm to use his other hand to cup your chin, guiding you closer to him and stopping a mere couple of centimetres away. You inhaled sharply, pretending to be exasperated. 
“No fair, I rizzed you first!”
“And I’m just making observations,” before you could answer, you felt his plush lips capture yours, his victorious smile consuming the whine that left you, “good morning, angel.”
“‘Morning, lovely,” you whispered, gaze taking in his eyes, his nose, his lips, cheeks, eyebrows - every detail that made Seonghwa who he was was priceless to you.
 His bare face, so stunning that no artist could ever fully depict it, but instead they would be contained in an eternal state of inspiration, having found their muse - selfless, starry-eyed, adoring. A universe contained in every expression, the light coating of blush on his cheeks, be it from the intensity of your observation or due to the mere minutes that passed since he had woken up, a perfect shade of love. Seonghwa; to become a star, indeed; he always shined the brightest. In his eyes was a purity unlike any other, both a reflection of his soul and how he perceived the rollercoaster life around him, even the simplest things turning into miracles. Heart to heart, it was easy for you to feel that in every beat was something greater, a blooming wonder. You fell quiet, instead choosing to stretch your arms wide and invite him impossibly close to you, a gesture that earned pure glee from him.
You felt a hand snake under your body, stopping at your side, meeting his other hand that returned to its position on top of you, and pushing you towards him. Breath running over your neck and collarbone, Seonghwa sighed at the warmth and nuzzled closer, peppering a couple of stray kisses over any skin he could reach. Your arm, which ended up serving as a support and rest for your boyfriend, wrapped around him, and you traced abstract shapes on his shoulder, exposed because of the black sleeveless tee he had chosen to wear, foregoing his usual glossy chrome silver attire. It was so natural, how you tilted your head to rest on top of his. How your left hand and his right intertwined, but not before hovering in midair, palm to palm, fingers flush against each other, reminding you of a day some time ago, back when you were not even officially dating but Seonghwa, overtaken by a sudden boldness, though of the endearing and boyish kind, had expressed a pressing curiosity of how the size of your hand compared to his. Now, you were pretty sure the only answer was: just right to be held by him since from that day on, Seonghwa had never really let go. Be it in a stray touch of the elbow, or a brush of the pinkies, or his leg moving to be right against yours, he was always making sure that you would not forget that he was there. Not that you particularly needed the reminders since Seonghwa would either way be at the forefront of your mind, but the closeness was an unimaginable, instant comfort. 
"It's raining," he mumbled, half to himself, tiredly regarding the vista.
"Mhm," you hummed back in agreement, not resisting the temptation to kiss the top of his forehead, making him look up at you, perfect dark orbs that reminded you of a certain brown sugar treat melting away even the smallest hint at a desire to get up.
"...wonder if worms go on dates," he pondered out loud, training his attention back to the maple and beech. You suppressed a snort, never failing to be amused by your boyfriend's unfiltered streams of consciousness, instead squeezing out a response between low chuckles:
"Are you about to ask me if I would still love you if you were a worm?"
"I know you would. You'd be the best worm wife," he shot back, sporting a cheeky grin as he squeezed you tighter. Ignoring how your heart accelerated at his choice of words, planting a seed of curiosity in your mind, you lightly slapped his shoulder.
"Yah, who says?"
"I'd annoy you until you do,"
"Hm… fair, fair," you pretended to consider, "but I won't be able to hug you like this," to prove a point, you curled into him.
“True, and I…” Still keeping a mischievous, enigmatic grin, Seonghwa wriggled out of his position, leaning towards you until you could feel his mouth right by your ear. Involuntarily, a shiver ran over you, making your boyfriend exhale sharply, satisfied. "I doubt I would be able to do this…" he planted a kiss right below your earlobe, and another, trailing downwards. Your flittering on his shoulder turned into a grasp for stability against his unwarranted, albeit alluring forwardness. “Or this,” he continued, using your temporary pliability to twist and tug you towards him until your back hit his broad chest and he could lock his arms around you, “Or-”
“Park Seonghwa, if you dare tickle me right now, I am not to be held resp-”
“Too slow-”
You yelped as you felt your boyfriend’s fingers attack your sides, making you break into a fit of giggles and swat at him, careful to avoid his face. He did not continue for long however, pausing as soon as a yawn disrupted him and instead choosing to embrace you once more and plant one noisy kiss on your cheek, their flushed state igniting an even stronger adoration. He rested his head on his hand with the elbow finding purchase on a white pillow, choosing to allow himself some space for simply acknowledging you.
He always had loving words to say about you - as time went by, he swore that this ability was innate, and that was the only way he could respond to you or describe you, but sometimes, even they fell short of encapsulating the emotional landscape shared, and just how you made him feel. From an ecstatic rush to a divine tranquillity, Seonghwa had found everything with you, and with you, even the biggest challenges turned into tiny setbacks. You balanced each other out. One could offer logic in a sensitive time for another, or provide a space in which to experience the lowest lows with no judgement, only unprecedented empathy. In the same way, both of you were each other's unwavering supporters, always there, always the loudest, always proud. Ready to celebrate success and small joys, be it a major event or an exciting moment in a video game, you simply fit together.
Seonghwa loved the way that you were designed, and the way that you two intertwined. Every day was an opportunity to be better, and he was glad that he could do it with you. In loving you, he found that he started to love himself more too, and it was thanks to this safety of the soul that had been discovered in your unity that he could play games, crack jokes, fully be himself. He noticed that you blossomed too - a freer, happier angel of light to grace this little blue planet, one who, with initial reassurance, had now taken flight and was now living the life that manifested hopes and wishes into a beautiful every day. Both as individuals, and as a couple, you grew to new heights, and that made minutes, hours like this even sweeter.
Now, it was your turn to roll back to spot an enamoured stare. Bashful, despite it having been  quite a number of years since you had felt his gaze like this for the first time, you rolled forwards, trying to hide your face, to which you heard a click of the tongue in response, and a firm hold of your wrist. Seonghwa kept your arm in place, resting his own over your waist, and once certain that you would not block him, tangled his fingers between your own.
Dawn.
Rain.
Time.
Seonghwa’s chest right against your back, his inhale, exhale lulling you back into a daze while the sky’s silver tears continued to transform your neighbourhood into a glimmering paradise. You wanted to be like this forever, snuggled close while in the middle of the storm that marked a transition from a fatigued summer to a chilly autumn. But even then, you knew you would be with your own sunshine.
“Already napping?” he teased, noticing how you had closed your eyes, and were progressively sinking further into your pillow. Not that he was doing something different, having collapsed behind you, disregarding the greenery outside, preferring to inhale the scent of your shampoo and forget the hours that the colour of the sky outside would hint at soon enough.
“Mm…” you were not bothered to give a proper response, nor were you particularly worried about your boyfriend not understanding you. He always did. Just like you understood him when he poked at the leg you were lying on to let him hook onto you - something of a habit, turned tradition, turned necessity. 
Hearts beating in time, connected in mind, body and soul. Like rain, you had fallen for one another, and soon enough, one droplet turned into two, into one thousand, into an ocean that spanned all of your favourite places. Neither of you were afraid of the occasional gloomy day, because as soon as you were to glance at one another, you would see a brightness previously deemed either inaccessible, or downright nonexistent. You relaxed fully into the feeling of Seonghwa’s arms around you. Safe, devoted, just so Seonghwa. He was a name, a noun, a verb, an adjective. Syllables, characters, letters that morphed into the synonym for love, and with every fibre of your being, you hoped would also mean ‘forever’. 
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enjoyed? consider leaving a reblog, i'd love to chat <3
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bewitchedleague · 1 year ago
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"Baldur's Gate 3" - Gortash
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pairing: lord enver gortash x reader
a/n: wrote this in an hour, not proof-read. english isn't my first language, might have mistakes. spoilers?
word count: 900.
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Had anyone foreseen this as your life's fate, you'd have laughed in disbelief.
The Netherstone within your grasp stood as testament to your role, your newfound cruelty evident. The object capable of unsettling realms, sowing seeds of war and chaos, now answered to you, although partially. The other three Netherstones had their rightful masters, each guarded by potent deities, except for you. Your own deity had forsaken you, swiftly punishing your audacity with excruciating agony, only saved from death by the intervention of the other deities shielding you with their might. But such was the toll of greatness, the sacrifice of frailty and weakness.
Devoid of your Crying God's influence, there was no force guiding you toward the path of kindness, no impetus to nurture and care for others. Your past was cruel, marked by childhood slavery. The deity had gifted you with just enough strength to secure your freedom, only requesting one modest repayment in return: benevolence.
But this… this was far from it. 
The power you wielded did not derive from kindness or respect, but from pain, schemes, and cruelty above them all. Once a gentle breeze, now a tempest's cruel embrace.
You had no choice; the offer was too alluring to resist, presented so effortlessly, and Gortash ensured you stood by his side, sharing in his glory. As Bane's favored, he held slightly dominion over the rest, unwilling to compromise, determined to include you, even though your God had forsaken you. The others acquiesced begrudgingly, knowing you posed no threat, their power enough to extinguish you if necessary. They doubted you'd act foolishly, for this was, undeniably, the best you could ever get in your pathetic life.
Neither of the other two took you seriously; Orin would prowl around you, whispering sinister threats with a smirk as she passed, while Ketheric nearly ignored your existence, his gaze occasionally tinged with hints of pity and distaste. Gortash, on the other hand, seemed to glimpse himself in you – powerless, misunderstood, and abused since his youth. He vividly recalled the days when he'd wished death upon his parents for selling him to that merciless warlock. The memory of meeting you among the other child slaves remained etched in his mind, your paths intertwined for days, months, and eventually, years.
The way you bestowed kindness upon him, even amidst the dire circumstances you both endured, was remarkable. Comforting each other with your best abilities as young children – surviving. 
Gortash would never admit it, but breaking free from his 'master's' grip and leaving you behind never sat well with him. An unrelenting guilt clawed at his conscience, gradually giving birth to an obsession when he ascended to power.  A yearning to find you, hoping and praying that you were alive.
And when he did, he didn’t take ‘no’ for an answer. 
He made sure to show you he cared, even after all these years spent apart. Even when the both of you changed so much. He was still the Gortash you knew, the young boy who tried his best to appear strong and cunning – the one who used his abilities to learn how to survive in a cruel world. By being cruel to it back.
He held you, comforted you, laid you in his bed and ravished you just the way you deserved it. 
You absolutely deserved this treatment, considering all the agony, tears, and paralyzing fear you've endured. The prospect of never having to suffer again, of securing your place by accepting his proposal and proving your loyalty as his ally – it's irresistible. Remember, who could empathize with your past more intimately than the one who shared it with you? He'd never betray you, never leave you hanging. You were the very first friend he'd ever had, the one person he truly felt on par with.
You had everything you'd ever yearned for, didn't you? The assurance that suffering would never return. The Steel Watch shielded you, and Gortash vowed to safeguard you no matter what—he made sure you were fully aware of it. He remained steadfast by your side, ensuring your well-being, offering guidance, and aiding you in those tough decisions you struggled to make. After all, who better to help you than a future Archduke? 
You needn't fret about a thing, my dear, not as long as he’s around.
Gortash, in a gesture of trust, would bestow upon you a fraction of his powers, an extension of Bane's might. With this, you were assured of protection should any danger arise. He harbored no trust for the others, acutely aware of Orin's burgeoning resentment and her unsettling fixation on you. But with you beneath his watchful protection, you wouldn’t be harmed. No one could ever, ever take you away from him.
Not even yourself. 
But you wouldn’t want such a thing, would you?
A part of you seems to have forgotten. 
Did you think this was a love story? A sweet, sweet tale where a prince falls in love, rescues their beloved, bestows freedom and affection?
No, granting you freedom would risk those unwelcome tendrils of weakness creeping into your mind. But love? You are loved. The sole obsession plaguing his thoughts, apart from the accursed crown and his grand designs, is you—no one else. How he yearns to imprison you in his chamber indefinitely, with the vigilant Steel Watch guarding the door. His possession—forever.
Such notions fill him with giddiness, a flutter of butterflies. For isn't this love? To desire nothing more and nothing less than to be with that person, irrespective of the cost. To guide their choices, safeguard them beneath your vigilant gaze, nurture them into what you know they should become, not what they desire to be. You know this.
The power you clutch to protect yourself is his. The Netherstone that secures your role in his schemes is his. The place where you reside is his. You are his. Aren’t you, pet?
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Okay have read “tides of fate” now.
First: obligatory fave quote: “No sooner had he breathed the air into his new lungs than he had claimed your mouth, fell with you to the ground on the very spot where his new feet had first touched it, and begged to have his wife.”
Like yes, babe, and it was hot as fuck.
Second: that it was evil!reader that persuaded Sauron back on track instead of maybe considering going home with his tail between his legs makes “Defied” so much spicier. Now it has an undercurrent of “you wouldn’t even be here without me, why won’t you listen? Why won’t you yield just a little?” It calls attention to the fact that Sauron thinks of her as a part of him, not just in the cutesy way but also (subconsciously and probably buried deep in his mind) as a part of him to serve his purposes. A beloved vital organ, barred from going against him in anyway.
My longstanding conspiracy theory is that Sauron (esp as you write him but generally) has a need to be Adored, (in canon in the sense of being worshipped, in fanfic land in both worship and the romantic relationship sense). I think your evil reader series couples really well with that, in the sense that your Sauron both needs to be adored and to adore. That he has a SO so intertwined with his story, his plots and schemes satisfies both needs.
I think he feeds on evil!reader’s desire of him in a very real way. I do wonder how he’d fare given the “it’s me or the rings” ultimatum but for real. I also lowkey wonder if his proposal to form The Two, by mixing their blood together, might have something to do with potentially binding her to him even more permanently, so no matter how angry or disappointed or abandoned she felt she would never be able to forsake him. He’d have to be banking on his maiar blood overpowering hers and keeping her from having a similar impact on him, I guess.
Anyways, these are the ramblings I have to offer today. Thanks for the great fic 💜
Oh they are excellent ramblings👀 I perfectly agree that Sauron wants to be admired, and I think that’s also why when someone tries to call him Sauron aka “the Abhorred” he kind of deflects with his go-to line ‘I’ve had many names’.
As for their relationship, in my mind, the more involved they get with the Rings, the more things spiral out of control. I did have the fight in Defied on my mind while I was writing this, cause in that one reader is the one backtracking a little while Sauron just goes full-speed ahead and that’s partially because at that point he especially is more and more blinded by his greed for the Rings, since they are literally made of him. There is a hope on both their parts that The Two will help put them back on the same track and make their union even stronger, but tbh at the moment I don’t see it going that well😅 Like, there might be such a thing as ‘too close’. I was listening to Over each other by Linkin Park, and it made me think of a potential period of decline between them where their thoughts are so intertwined by the influence of The Two that it feels like ‘all they are is talking over each other’:
Reaching for satellites, but all along/Under your breath, you're sayin' that I was wrong, oh/The skyscrapers we created are comin' down/And free-fallin' to the pavement/Cause you won't let me breathe/And I'm not ever right/All we are is talkin'/Over each other
And that drives them insane and brings out the worst in them, making them blame each other for the mess as the peoples of Middle-Earth keep fighting back and their goal seems forever out of reach and ugh. It’s messy af and idk how (if) that’s gonna be fixed.
But I like to go hand in hand with canon so you guys don’t have to worry about that kind of angst any time soon. Good thing season 3 isn’t here yet😅
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greetingfromthedead · 8 months ago
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Shepherd Story 2 (God!Knives x F!Reader)
Plot: In a world where fallen gods live among you, there is the god of winter and death who is also eternally bound to you with body and soul. The time has come for him to visit you again.
Series: Shepherd. Check out Story 1 and Story 3!
Pairing: God!Knives x F!Reader
Raiting: NSFW!! 18+!! R!! Explicit!! Minors DNI
Tags: fantasy!AU, god!AU, no use of "y/n", smut (I just got carried away in the beginning), established relationship, gods, feathery plant, fated love, romance, legends, nature magic, reunion, intimacy, possessive behavior, tenderness, some fluff, body worship, light bondage, vaginal fingering, oral f receiving, hand job, p in v sex
Word count: 4k
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Author's Note: This is a continuation of Shepherd. This story is inspired by @triplesilverstar's god!AU. There isn't much lore here, but I already have ideas for a 3rd installment. This AU will rot my brain out.
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The cycle is nearly complete again. The summer heat caressed your cheeks, and the trees took on a yellow hue. This body had not felt the heat of midsummer or seen the different colors of nature. Despite living in the south, the creeping winter lasting 50 years still left its mark. But you remember from all your past lives the changing seasons that seemed to last forever. You don't miss the sunny days or the shades of spring. You welcome the falling leaves and the chilly northern winds, for they are brought on by something more precious.
The song of your heart has gotten louder and louder as the weeks have passed, and the familiar restlessness of your ancient soul has been tugging you towards the dark forests surrounding your home. But you know there is no need to go; you are found, and the melody echoing from your chest will always guide him back to you without fault.
You look up from your workbench as the silent whine of ice forming touches your ears. He is here. The god of winter and death has arrived, greeting you with breathtaking bouquets of frosted flowers covering your windows. They glimmer in the last rays of daylight as you set aside your book and rise to meet him.
You open your front door into the frigid evening air. It is snowing again, just like last time, and once again, you see him approaching from the edge of the forest. This time he isn't frozen over, his beautiful feathery wings trailing behind him with soft rustling. His ice cold eyes are on you, but tonight they don't nail you to your spot with terror. In them, you recognize the hundreds of lifetimes you've lived, your love reaching back to times so old that even the stories from it have died.
"I've been waiting for you, Beloved," you say as you step off your doorstep onto the freezing pathway. The frost brought on by his presence melts under your bare feet, and it gets colder with every step you take towards him.
"I've been yearning for you, my love," he replies, his steely gaze looking through this mortal body of yours and only seeing the soul he fell in love with millennia ago. "I patiently waited for the day to lay my eyes on you once again."
"Come now; I have something of yours." You reach out your hand with a smile to invite him to take it. He closes the distance and traces his digits along the lines of your open palm. His cold touch chills the blood in your veins, but just for a moment. His fingers find the spaces between yours, intertwining effortlessly as if they were always meant to be there. With that, the markings covering his body light up with a dim blue light. The sight only lasts for a few seconds before the patterns disappear again.
"As always, I thank you, sweet Shepherd, for keeping it safe." His voice is quiet and soothing, painting images of snow covered meadows and peaceful forests in your mind. He presses your hand to the middle of his chest, where you feel his heart awakening. The beat hastens as he holds your gaze. "You consume me. I dream of you every hour of every day."
His fingers let go of yours to trace along your bare forearms. You don't even notice the cold anymore as his touch leaves burning trails in its wake. You lean in closer, unable to resist the pull of his soul.
"For tonight, I am not a mere dream. I am yours to hold, and we have a lot of time to make up for, darling." You reach out your free hand to touch his sharp jaw line and feel the warmth emanating from his skin. The god bows his head to you as his lips find yours. It fills you with euphoria, reaching into the farthest corners of your being. Your heart beats like a wardrum, echoing the sounds of times past. His arms wrap around you, pulling you flush against him as he leans you back. His kiss acting as a wordless prayer.
The snowflakes gently falling from the heavens land on your face like delicate touches, and the feeling of them melting on your skin lingers for long after they are gone. His stiff hands clutch tightly at your waist and lift you up from the ground. Your palms find balance on his broad shoulders. His sharp gaze looks up into your dumbfounded face as he carries you back to your cottage. A familiar feathery tendril slinks out from between his mass of wings and gently brushes against your cheek, drying up the wetness left there by the thawing snow. You lift one arm from his body to touch the tendril and let it slip through your fingers.
He sets you down as he reaches the doorway and lets you guide him inside, where his presence fills the small room with shadows. The door can barely shut behind him as you feel more soft touches trail along your skin. You recognize them as the slim helping limbs, and you feel two of them trying to slink their way under your blouse. His large hands land on your hips as you feel him press against your back. He leans down and whispers in your ear, "You fill me with desire and make me lose my mind. I am nothing more than a pathetic and weak man in your presence. My thoughts focused on every way to please you. I crave your touch and long for the warmth of your body."
His hands travel around you, pushing the thin fabric of your top with them, baring your skin around your waist. You feel the contour of his muscles against you and the warmth of his cheek pressing into yours. His fingers start to undo the buttons as a hand slithers underneath to dance along your bare skin.
"I come like a rabid dog to your doorstep, a starved animal desperate for the smallest particle of your affection. I come with my teeth bared and my chest full of longing. You have me crawling in desperate devotion for you." His voice cuts like a knife into your hazing thoughts.
"You're a god," you remind him as he opens the front of your blouse.
"And I am powerless in your glory." His hot breath touches your skin at the base of your neck, and his lips trail down your shoulder.
Both of his hands travel along your figure, exploring every curve and crevice with hunger. A few of his tendrils sneak under your skirts, caressing along your legs up to your thighs. Your hands cover his as his long fingers press into the supple flesh of your breasts. The creeping feathers lick over the hot core between your legs. Your breathing gets heavier as his hands get rougher, and his kisses are replaced by sharp teeth trailing over your skin. A shiver runs along your spine as he makes his way up your neck.
He whispers into your ear as the tip of his nose digs into your helix. "Will you allow me to be reminded of your sweetness? So it can turn to bitter longing when we are apart?"
You swallow hard, and he doesn't wait for your response. He turns you around, and his lips find yours in a searing kiss. His hands push off the garment, still trapping your arms, and the tendrils pull down your underwear. He guides you backwards, and you can only take a few strides across the little room until the edge of your workbench digs into the back of your thighs. He effortlessly lifts you onto the edge and settles between your legs. His fingers frame your face as he kisses you deeply, his tongue exploring every corner of your mouth. Your hands travel along his body to undo the clasp of his robe on his shoulder and let it fall between your bodies. Your fingers trail down his chest, feeling the warmth of his skin beneath your touch. As he leans in closer, his breath hot against your neck, you feel a shiver run down your spine. The anticipation builds as he whispers his desires in your ear, sending a hot wave into our belly.
Your arms reach around him, and your digits find where the wings meet his back. Your fingers are grabbing onto the mighty and soft bases as his kisses move along your neck, leaving you softly moaning as his hands caress you. Some of his tendrils have moved on to peel back the layers of your skirts, carefully bunching them up onto your lap and holding them there. The god's tender hand runs along your thigh, and two more tendrils appear to weave around your ankles and calves. His touch moves closer to the heat emanating from your longing sex.
The little helping limbs pull your legs apart for him to run his thumb along your wet slit. His fingers expertly tease your folds. With each gentle stroke, you feel yourself surrendering to the pleasure he effortlessly evokes. More tendrils appear that wrap themselves tenderly around your form. They hold you securely in place as the god's touch becomes more intense, sending waves of pleasure through your body. You can't help but arch your back and moan softly as he continues. His lips move down from your collarbone and skip over the tendril making its way to your neck. He focuses on the space between your breasts before picking one and lapping at the hardening bud in the center. The feathers tickle you gently and help to keep you up as his looming form forces you backward. A finger presses its way through your entrance, and the juices gush onto his hand. The god groans against your skin, and you can feel the vibration all throughout your body. His digit is quickly followed by a second one as they start to stretch and explore your inner walls, seeking out every sensitive spot within you. The sensation of his fingers moving inside you, combined with the soft feathers caressing your skin, sends waves of pleasure coursing through your body, leaving you breathless and wanting more. His kisses move down along your sternum, and two tendrils make you release the wings on his back that you had held on to with all your might. Finally free from your grip, he can lower himself to the floor. He looks up at you from between your legs before turning to brush his lips along your inner thigh.
His mouth finds its way to your throbbing clit, his tongue flicking and circling with precision. The sensation is overwhelming, pushing you closer to the edge of ecstasy. The tendrils tighten their grip further as your body jerks, and your belly contracts in anticipation. His tongue buries into your folds as he laps up your desire for him. Strangled cries and whimpers escape your throat as he keeps you teetering on the edge of climax, prolonging the exquisite torture. The little feathery limbs around your wrists let go to allow you to lace your fingers into his pale blonde hair and pull on it. The fingers of his free hand dig into your hip with enough fierceness to leave marks. The other hand pumps into you with curled digits. With a final flick of his tongue, you shatter into a million pieces, your body convulsing with pleasure as you ride the waves of climax.
He doesn't stop yet, his tongue replacing the fingers he pulled from you, drinking up every spilled drop like a dying man presented with the fountain of immortality. Both his hands hold on to your hips, pulling you closer as you slowly come down from the initial high, but his actions still cloud your mind with pleasure.
His face pulls away from you, and you get to see his adoring eyes look up at you. This gaze is yours alone; no other soul is privy to it. His one. His only. Despite the soft nature of his expression, his lips aren't graced with a smile; an iciness fit for the god of winter lingers there. You know this face too well; it's nothing more than a mask, trying to hide his inpatient intentions. As he rises up to stand before you, the distance grows enough for you to bask in the glory of his form. You see the sparse little feathers growing by the collarbones, his wide and muscular chest, now bare for you since his flowy white robe hangs from his hips. Yet the layers of fabric are not able to hide his desire for you.
As he steps closer, he relieves his body from the garment and lifts you up from the wooden surface with the tendrils to remove your skirts leaving you as naked as the day you were born. He presses himself between your legs as he lowers you down again and you wrap yourself around him, your feet locking together on his ass. His cheek presses against yours, his warm breath tickling your neck as his hands stroke your sides. You enjoy his closeness, and the slight tickling makes you look down. You feel his hard length press against you, but as you look, you see the tip poke out between your bellies. It leaves a wet spot on your skin. You scoot your ass back enough to fit your hand between your bodies.
You touch your own dripping sex first, collecting some of the slick on your digits before capturing his shaft and starting to run your palm along the length of it before wrapping your fingers around it. You continue to stroke him firmly, feeling him twitch in your hand. With every pass, your thumb strokes over the tip, and his heavy breath caresses your ear as silent moans threaten to escape him. Your other hand holds on to his hair as you continue your steady pace. He arches his back and lets out a low groan of pleasure as you twist your hand around him, and the sound turns into a growl as he nips at your ear. You know he is at his wit's end, unable to control himself any longer. You release the vice like grip of your legs, and he knows to lean back. You run his sensitive tip through your folds before lining him up at your entrance. You are dripping in anticipation, and he can slowly sink into your heat as the walls clamp down around him. You let out a soft moan as he fills you completely.
His hips start to move in shallow thrusts as your fingers grip his hair and feathers. His panting lips move to your throat, forcing your head back, but the pleasure is too much to keep your eyes open anyway. You let yourself enjoy the overwhelming sensation. He grinds himself to the bottom of your well, hitting that spot inside you that makes you tighten your legs around him. You feel the tendrils around you come to life again with new vigor as they strangle your torso and opening your legs wider for him. You are too bound by him to do much of anything except moan with overwhelming pleasure towards the heavens. You are completely lost in the moment, surrendering yourself to his every touch. Your mind is consumed with desire, and your body aches for more.
As if sensing your despair, he increases the intensity of his movements—no longer shallow thrusts but deep, powerful strokes that send waves of delight through every fiber of your being. His teeth graze your skin as his lips move hungrily against the skin of your neck. He relishes the vibrations escaping your throat, his hands grabbing you tight and pulling you closer to him.
You quiver around him as your body tightens in pleasure, every nerve ending on fire with lust. His pace has turned into a frantic pounding as he drives deep into you. The small room is filled with a symphony of your voices, moaning in unison to the building crescendo of ecstasy.
The coil that has been tightening with every thrust of your lover finally releases, sending you over the edge into a state of pure bliss. You call out his name as your body convulses around him, tripping him too over the verge of climax. He fills you with warmth as your pulsing milks him. You feel yourself spilling over as your hands release their tight grip on him. You go boneless as the last of the intense pleasure washes over and retreats. You are kept up by his strong arms and tendrils wrapped around you. His lips move down to your chest, where he leaves more of his burning kisses as you still feel him panting against your skin. You are so entangled in him, you aren't sure where he ends and you start.
The tendril that has been around your neck like a necklace slithers away and is replaced by the god of death's long fingers. He squeezes just enough to slightly restrict your airway, making your heavy breath hitch in your throat. He kisses the edge of your jaw, and you turn your burning gaze on him. What you wouldn't give to crawl out of this mortal body and return to the time where you had no need for it. You curse the gods who turned you this way, forcing the two of you to hold back every step of the way. Your love transcends the limitations set by this meek form. You don't want him to be vigilant about your weak body; you want the love you make to thunder across the land with the strength of a thousand storms. You want him to stay. Yet he will bring death even to you if he lingers too long. You grab hold of his chin and move his lips to yours so your tongue can taste the sweetness of his mouth. A groan escapes him as his other hand pulls on your lower back, pressing you even closer to him. You are left gasping and desperate for more.
His fingers release you again, and he grabs hold of your hips. There is no chance of you sliding away from his grasp, as he holds you both with his strong arms and the tendrils woven around you. He picks you up from the workbench and heads to where he knows your bed to be. You can still feel him inside you, as he never pulled away far enough from your body to break that bond. As he steps into the shimmering moonlight, he stops. Long shadows are painted on his skin, and his pale blue eyes glimmer, reminding you of ice crystals, making him appear otherworldly.
"My gorgeous nymph, beautiful as the day I first saw you," he whispers, his voice sending shivers down your spine. You know his calm demeanor hides a raging fire just beneath the surface. You know you are the moth to his flame, and you cannot resist being drawn closer to him, even though you know it will eventually consume you.
"My Beloved." You whisper back, your hands cradling his face.
He doesn't linger by the window any longer but continues onward to your bed. He turns and stretches out his enormous wings before sitting down and situating you on his lap, your legs kneeling to either side of his thighs as you are spread out for him again.
He looks up at your face, the ancient fire you share burning in both of your gazes. The storming of your soul against the confines of your human body is a tempest, spilling over into his soul.
"I want to lay waist to their domain, to set fire to their realm, where they look down upon us, until their marble stairs melt away. I want to make them grovel and beg for forgiveness at your feet for the shackles they have placed upon you. Let me seek justice the only way I know how. Tell me to go to war, Shepherd!"
"You will lose without your heart, and I refuse to give it back," you say with a tone that won't allow him to argue. Instead, you put your hands on his shoulders and grind your hips into his lap.
You feel his breath shudder for a moment before his hands run up your body, cupping your breasts as you lean back. The need grows again, fed by the flames of your love, as you roll your hips against his, feeling the heat between you intensify. His lips find yours, and you lose yourself in the passion of the moment. You feel him hardening inside you again, aching for more. His fingers dance over your sensitive skin as the tendrils retreat, and he gives you full control over your body again. Your movements grow bolder as he swells inside you. Soon enough, you find yourself feverishly riding him, unable to hold back any longer. He uses the tendrils to move the both of you further onto the bed without disturbing your bouncing. You force him onto his back as you continue to rock your hips against his with a passion that consumes you both. Any attempt to prolong the moment is futile, as the sight of him relishing in your beauty is intoxicating. His fingers dig into your thighs as he starts to buck up into you with an urgency that matches your own. A tendril pushes against the tender bundle of nerves to brush against it. There is time for tenderness later. For now, you are a wildebeest in heat, desperate for his touch and his seed. You are lost in the moment, consumed by the age-old desire between you.
As your bodies move in perfect synchronization, the world around you fades away, leaving only the two of you in a whirlwind of passion. The intensity builds until it reaches its peak, leaving you breathless and completely enraptured by him. As you collide into him, he pulls you in for a breathless and passionate kiss that leaves you wanting more. He wraps you in his wings as he turns and pins you underneath him. The god still looks ravenous as he pulls away from you and continues to grind his hips against yours. He kisses the deepest part of you, and it makes you whine out his name until you're begging for him to never stop.
Chasing one release after the other, you are soon spent, your body exhausted and limp, yet your soul begs him to keep going. The night goes by with him mapping your body with his blazing lips and exploring every inch of your skin with his fingertips, leaving you breathless and thinking you might die in the arms of the god of winter and death.
As the sun begins to kiss the tops of the trees, you find yourself tangled in his embrace, feeling a sense of completeness and contentment. You know the time has come again for him to leave your side, but for a little bit, the yearning in the pit of your stomach has found its fill. You know you will see him again as another cycle of nature reaches its end, and until then, you have a job to do.
The bittersweet goodbye stings your heart as his lips linger on yours for longer than they need, his fingers gripping your waist tightly, a rigidity in his body betraying the calm facade he's trying to maintain. As he pulls away, your loving gaze meets his stern eyes. Your thumb trails over the beauty mark on his cheek, a moment of silent understanding passing between you. You know he has no desire to leave, yet he must rip himself from the beautiful dream that is your embrace.
"I will wait for you, my darling," you whisper into his ear before placing a last kiss on his cheek.
"And I will return to you, forever and always," he promises before turning away from you with sorrow in his eyes. "Keep it safe for me, sweetling."
Check out Story 1 and Story 3!
"Foolish man, that's why I don't give it back." You chuckle lightly and watch him silently walk across the frosted yard to disappear before daylight floods his path.
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valentine-writes · 1 year ago
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Hello hello! Been downright dying over how much I love your AtSV work!! So I thought I would feed into it >:) If you're feeling up to it, whats been brewing in your mind about The Spot x reader? Take it platonic or romantic, either has so much potential for fun in my opinion and I guess I'm just interested in what ideas you might have?? Not a lot to work off of from what I'm asking but I hope you're able to have fun with it anyways ^^; Whether youre able to get to this request or not, thanks for reading! Love what you do :)
collision.
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「 tws + notes: possibly ooc, unedited, he's kind of pathetic little meow meowified im sorry, first bit inspired by @//submurged-into-clouds !! <3 」
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↳ ft. the spot
「 gn!reader, can be platonic or romantic <3 」
author's note: first, AUWJHEJSBS thank u so much!!!! im glad u like what i've written so far– and i am SUPER excited to write for the spot becuz im gon b real,,, there was a momentary lapse of insanity where i was scouring for any content of him at all. SO TY 4 UR REQ!!!! ( /)u(\ ) i hope this is ok!!! i got carried away and stuff so,, i hope this is at the Very Least coherent! leaned for platonic stuff with romantic undertones that intensify throughout so,, read it how u like ^_^
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▸ we're going to start this by establishing that bro has literally No Friends anymore. you met him after the collider incident and by some miracle, some sort of mercy from a higher power in the multiverse– you ended up becoming friends with him
really, meeting him was an accident. wasn't supposed to be anything more– just him messing around with his new abilities and slipping into a random universe with no idea where he was.
and there was you.
just you. out, alone at night. just taking a walk– disrupted by someone falling out of a weird portal from the sky.
this is the day your paths crossed, the day your fates intertwined, the moment that your world collided into his.
to put more literally: the day he crashed into you very unceremoniously.
im now re-reading the title and remembering his backstory and giggling at my unintentional joke. he is not catching a break. even from me.
▸ after recovering from a random stranger from another universe tumbling into your own, you began to talk.
now– you don't remember how the conversation started, but you were glad to listen. the way which he rambled to you, words tumbling out of his mouth like they'd been on his mind for a while– you felt like he needed someone to hear him.
he's surprised. you're not bothered. not frightened. not even weirded out. but you're not indifferent. you nod along, you comment on things here and there– but you listen. you actually listen to him.
eventually, when he leaves, you're sat there for a moment. just frozen– processing whether that had really happened or not. you see the indent his body left in the grass where the two of you sat. it's evidence enough for you.
a few weeks pass and you're certain that you were just fated to meet once and never again. you were fine with this.
▸ until he randomly popped up in your living room one day.
yes, he had been actively trying to find your universe again– and as casually as he can be, is now peeking from out the portal he created, head leaning in to get a better look at you.
you're not sure how you can tell considering he has no face,,, but he's definitely smiling.
he waves to you, awkwardly, (noticing that you're just staring at him while not saying a word), "thought i would say hi, so– ...hi."
you blink at him tiredly. "dude, it's 6:30 in the morning–"
he's treating this like it's normal for people to just show up in your house. he missed you– and it's very evident.
▸ no matter what type of relationship you're in with him: you GOTTA set boundaries. being one of the only people who cares to hang around him anymore means that you're gonna be seeing a lot of him.
while he certainly hasn't completely lost grasp on the concept of privacy, it's definitely been altered by the fact he's got powers that allow him to pop up wherever he wants. he's just a teeny bit invasive.
"hello!" he'll greet, randomly poking his head through a portal he made to your bedroom.
on instinct, you throw the closest thing to you. he's just glad you reached for the pillow and not the alarm clock also at your arms reach on the bedside table.
definitely a good idea to remind him that if he wants to hang out, he should probably message you, and if he wants to show up at your house for whatever reason, he should give you a heads up.
he has nearly walked in on you changing. and has apologized a million times every time it's brought up. it fr keeps him up at night.
▸ everyone in his life leaving him def messed him up a bit. he can deny it all he wants, but he's terribly anxious that you're gonna grow tired of him and leave.
constantly like "oh my god what if they leave for someone who has a face" and itz like,,, boy,,,, stfu itz 3am
he needs reassurance, even if he never explicitly says. but you're kind to him. patient. you're pretty much an angel in his eyes.
which is why he feels comfortable texting u in the dead of night like:
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(im gonna b real i dont even know why i have this image)
▸ he's dismissed by most people around him– but you've given him your time. you've shown him that you care. he's doing everything he can to be certain you'll still care for him.
the random waves of "oh no but what if they hate me" hit him HARD. especially if he hasn't seen you in a while, if you take longer to respond to his messages, if you haven't been answering his calls– bro will jump to a conclusion
"hypothesis: they dont love me anymore :("
☝️🤓 SORRY HAKJWOENDOEND he would NOT say that. im just clowning on him itz a part of my luv 4 him </3
needs to be needed. wants to be wanted.
eventually you have a long talk about this. he's got a bit of an ego after realizing how much power he truly possessed– but you gently encourage him to let it down. a simple heart to heart. and while you're certain these things aren't going to dissipate with a single conversation, you've let him know he doesn't have to deal with it alone.
▸ physical contact is a need for him. bro's touch starved. he likes linking his pinky with yours or just intertwining your fingers together. if you ever let him rest his head on your shoulder or hugged him he'd actually have to fight tears. he hasn't been given affection in a while :(
▸ he doesn't really feel like he has to hide anything around you. he really doesn't have much of a filter when you're talking to him which makes for some amusing conversation. he finds your laughter the sweetest sound in the world– he likes making you laugh :] it makes him feel like he's accomplished something
▸ the alterations to his body have caused some weird little changes that most people don't notice. one of them most noticeably to you– he'd cold. not frigid or like icy, but a lot colder than normal people tend to be.
you first notice this when you're hanging out in your bedroom. you're sitting on your bed, while he paces back and forth, rambling about another failed villainous act
(you haven't questioned his whole obsession with villainy considering that he seems pretty harmless with what he's been attempting– no matter how much he tries)
"and then– ohh, and tHEN THEY JUST—" you notice how he's gesturing frantically, exasperated, annoyed– and out of instinct to provide some sort of comfort (or at least calm him down) your hand grasps his wrist
there's a moment of silence.
his voice dwindles into a more soft, subdued tone, watching as your fingers wrap around his wrist. "wh– if you wanted me to stop talking, you could've just... just said or...."
his mind is going blank, trailing off at your touch. he doesn't remember the last time someone has held his hand or even brushed up against him without freaking out.
"you're cold." you comment, now taking his hand between both of yours, as if you were trying to heat him back up. you don't meet his eyes, simply staring at his hand.
"oh– yeah, yeah, it's just– a thing with now. came with the holes–"
the sensation of your hands gently squeezing his shuts him up. you raise his hand to your lips and gently blow hot air onto it.
your brow furrows, nose scrunching up. "you're still cold..." you mutter, more to yourself than to him. quietly, your gaze returns to his face.
"does that bother you?" you ask him, after a beat of silence.
he shakes his head. your hands let go of his– but he quietly reaches back to hold it again.
"hold on a second. why don't you try again?" he suggests. you laugh softly, knowing it's obviously just an excuse. still, you humor him.
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