#but ironically being in too much pain to fall asleep

[stillgotscars]

my appointment with my chronic pain specialist left me in tears… is anyone remotely surprised

[arent-i-the-fairest]

Hi! I'm not sure if your request is open but I will still try to do a request and I'm really sorry if I requested something that doesn't go with your rules! So my request is how would the nrc boys react to there s/o going back home? Like Crowley finally found a way to open the portal that will bring them back home, how would they react to it?

(Sorry if my english is bad it's not my first language)

𝐩𝐢𝐞𝐜𝐞 𝐨𝐟 𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐥𝐝

author’s note : thank you for the request! off home we go…

i really do wonder what it’ll be like in game when mc finally gets to go back home.

in just the blink of an eye, you were gone, and the portal closed—never to be opened again.

heartslabyul

you leaving was a massive hit to riddle’s heart. he tries to remain the same stern, strong housewarden he’s always been, but there’s no hiding the pain. all much to his distress, he’s noticeably more deflated, there’s less energy in his tone when he speaks, and he zones out when he shouldn’t. he can’t help but wish he spent more time with you and was more affectionate. he should’ve made more time, especially since you were of such high priority to him.

trey struggles to hide his constant sadness. he still has to be a reliable vice housewarden, but it’s hard when everything is weighing so heavily on his mind. he’s always helping others relax, but he can’t seem to get himself in a lighter mood now. how ironic. when he thinks of your relationship, he has some regrets about always being kind of reserved about his feelings. he was a good boyfriend, for sure, but his heart aches thinking about how he never did show the full extent of how much he loves you while he had the chance.

cater finally made a deep, meaningful connection with someone, and it’s over. just like that. and for the first time, a good relationship didn’t end because of him being forced to move. he’d laugh if he wasn’t so heartbroken. he just can’t win. he’ll spend hours every day, nearly every bit of free time he has, scrolling through the hundreds of pictures and posts he made with you. they comfort him, but they’ll never be enough.

ace knew this day would come for a long time. he’s been dreading it, but he’s always just pushed thinking of it away, deep in the back of his mind. can’t avoid it now, though. when you said your goodbyes and left, he confidently told himself he’d take your departure like a champ… that didn’t last long at all. very quickly, he was in shambles. ace stops caring about nearly everything outside of the situation for a while, only doing the bare minimum of what he needs to. he can only think of you. he really, really misses you. he wants you back here. he wants to go on adventures with you again. they were chaotic, but he’d do it all again.

deuce struggles very heavily with his feelings after you’ve left. he tries desperately to pick himself back up, because you wouldn’t want him moping around all the time. that’s right… he has to do good for you. he’ll get back on his feet at some point. and he’ll become the honor student he always said he’d be. he swears on it. and he’ll pursue all the stuff after graduation he wants to do! even though you’re not beside him anymore, he knows you’ll be cheering him on from your world. he’s cheering you on, too.

savanaclaw

leona remembers the way you’d always talk to him about something or do something in the background whenever he tried to nap. he’d always tell you to pipe down so he could enjoy the silence. that silence isn’t so relaxing now that you’re gone. everything in general feels shittier. there’s a lot less of him sleeping and more of him lying down while reflecting. in the times he can fall asleep, he tends to dream of you. his herbivore still gets to bug him in his dreams. he never complains in them. the only way he can be with you now is in that head of his.

naturally, ruggie is crushed. every day alone feels like another stab in the chest, yet he’s gotta keep going on. he has to work hard, get money, and make sure he can eat as always. memories of you always creep into his mind when he’s trying to be at peace. and especially when he’s working. you used to help him around a lot, so of course not having your presence around anymore is very hard to ignore. you better not be slacking off over in your world! but more than that, you better be happy. make all this hurt in his heart at least somewhat worth it.

underneath jack’s uncaring demeanor is a whole lot of longing. he knows the portal can’t be opened again, but he thinks about if it could be a lot. it sure would be nice if it could. wolf beastmen typically only date and have one special someone for their whole lives, and he’s happy you were his. if somehow, some way, you manage to come back, he’s loyally waiting here for you.

octavinelle

azul is completely devastated. he needs to get it together as soon as possible, he knows. but it’s just too difficult. that emotional side of him can’t take this. he finds it difficult to even look at the items you left behind for him, because all he feels when he sees them is misery. the only thing that comes to mind is how he wants you back with him. bringing you into a contract or preventing you from leaving through other means would’ve gone against your trust for him, but he selfishly finds himself wishing he had. he had so many plans for the future with you.

jade, when asked how he’s doing now that you’re gone, always says he’s ‘a bit upset, but managing’… that doesn’t even begin to explain his feelings. he regrets not destroying that portal when he had the chance. he does a remarkable job at continuing to fulfill his duties despite the pain, but he’s constantly burning with longing and frustration on the inside.

floyd will never forgive you for leaving. you didn’t like him enough to stay, huh?! sure, it’s a huge ask to leave your whole world behind, but he kind of convinced himself that you still would’ve done it for him and your other friends. he should’ve grabbed you by the heels and pulled you out of the portal before it was too late. day-to-day life becomes dull. bleak. the things you two used to do together are no longer fun. he comes to realize that the activities themselves weren’t fun. it was you that made every day enjoyable, and he’ll never get to experience that kind of life again.

scarabia

kalim has been feeling kinda guilty. he should be nothing but happy you got to return home, he believes. and he is glad! ��� but he’s so miserable, too. he wants to remain positive through everything, but all his attempts just keep falling flat. this party is so much fun…! but he’d feel livelier if you were attending. he’s learning so much in this class! … but he wishes he was able to study with you later. his mind just always circles back to you. he surrounds himself with people all the time and has the most fun he can to try coping, but it still all feels wrong. he misses you so much.

jamil got a taste of a happy life, and it’s over. he feels defeated. the day you’d return to your world was something that plagued his mind often. he knew it was coming for a while, but it didn’t make it hurt any less. there’s nothing to be done now—he can’t bring you back here—so he just sort of buries his feelings as he desperately tries to move on. ‘if i just focus on working and my duties, sooner or later, i’ll feel at least somewhat normal again,’ he tells himself. ‘there’s no time to be sad anyways.’ he’ll never move on, though. he couldn’t when you meant so much to him.

pomefiore

you’re gone. vil hates to mope, but he can’t escape it. his head and heart both ache constantly as he gets through days as best as he can manage. routinely, he lets all the sadness out at the end of the day, when he’s alone. all this crying is unbefitting of him, but it’d be worse for him if he kept it all bottled up. and he did always lecture you about the importance of both a healthy mind and body, so he can’t be a hypocrite now. he wonders how you’re doing all on your own…

rook mourns like you’ve died rather than gone home. the circumstances feel somewhat similar to him, though. wouldn’t you agree? think of it: he can’t speak with you, spend all day by your side, or so much as see your beautiful face again. all he has left is the many photos he took of you, as well as the journals about you he had spent time working on and collecting. and he’ll continue to write and think about you. truly, you’re the most beautiful person in every sense to him. you’ll be his muse forever.

epel is so bitter. he didn’t give you an easy time when he heard of your decision to leave, as well as the time leading up to your actual departure. he kept to himself more, sulking. when the time came for you two to say your goodbyes, all his tears of frustration and sadness came out. he really was wishing you’d stay forever. he understands that you can’t abandon your world, but he’s still so frustrated that there’s not a solution where both of you can be happy.

ignihyde

idia doesn’t know how he could even begin to get through this. he wants to just shut down, but he can’t even do that. every second of every day, he’s thinking of you. there’s hardly any coping with video games or media he likes, because he can’t take his mind off everything. he wanted to be considerate of your feelings, so he let you leave, despite the thought of being without you ever again making him nauseous. if he could go back in time and beg for you to stay instead, he would.

diasomnia

malleus is in a constant state of pain and longing. forgive him for his selfishness, but if things went how he truly wished, that portal would’ve never been opened. he spends a lot of time in ramshackle, reminiscing. he’s tempted to take the items left behind by you—incomplete letters addressed to him, pillows, even objects as mundane as your pencils—but he doesn’t. he leaves them just as they are, lying in your dorm. it makes it look as though you still live here. as if you’d come in at any time, and the two of you could spend another evening together.

lilia tries to think and act maturely about your departure. he had been emotionally preparing himself for it ages beforehand… but unfortunately, it still hadn’t cushioned the blow very much at all. he’s glad you get to reunite with your world, and he doesn’t want to sulk, but it hurts. with hundreds of years of being alive, lilia has made lots of memories, both joyful and sad. you certainly go down as both. how painful it is to think of how you’re gone now... but. he’s glad he met you.

sebek, for a while, holds almost a kind of resentment towards you. you’ve left him. logically, he knows he shouldn’t have expected you to leave your world behind for your life here in twisted wonderland, but he’s still just so bitter. it takes a lot of effort from the people around him to talk him out of that bitterness. but eventually, he starts to crack. he gave you quite a hard time about your decision to leave, and the guilt is getting to him. he thinks about your relationship often. he loves you a lot, and he’s sorry he was never quite good at expressing it properly while he had the chance.

silver is as heartbroken as you’d imagine. the good in his heart always tells him to be happy that you’ve returned to your world. your home, that you’ve been waiting for so long to go back to. it helps. as much of a nuisance his constant dozing off is to him, he’s now able to find a sort of comfort in it. that’s because he dreams of you a lot. and even if it’s not the real, physical you that he’s talking to, touching, and spending time with in those dreams, he can only take what he can get now. it hurts a little more each time he wakes up.

[artyandink]

kindred

“DON’T STAY AWAKE FOR TOO LONG, DON’T GO TO BED”

A/N: a little angst piece cause I felt like it, heavily inspired by Carry On but it happens before so tEcHnIcAlLy Carry On is inspired by this :)

God, Dean should have never taken his eye off the ball, the ball being you. Sure, you were such a damn good hunter — one of the best he’d ever seen — but even the best had their drawbacks, even the best had their moments, even those moments couldn’t be afforded. You and Dean had been casing a possible group of vampires in Houston while Sam hunted a werewolf down in Wichita, and you two determined that it could only be a few. You could take ‘em, you were good enough.

Wrong.

It was a whole nest, a whole ass nest, which you two had been able to mostly clear with some machetes and bullets laced with dead man’s blood. Until one son of a bitch had snuck up behind you when Dean thought the worst was over and shoved a thin wooden stake right through your stomach and yanked it back out

How fucking ironic.

Dean couldn’t hear the yell of your name that left his mouth as you crumpled to the floor, couldn’t feel when his hand holding the machete lashed out and took the thing out, dropping to his knees in front of you as you propped yourself against a wall.

“Hey, hey, sweetheart.” His voice was frantic, looking at the gigantic fucking hole in your stomach that was leaking hot blood— shit, shit. “Keep your eyes open, yeah? Don’t take ‘em off me, don’t you dare. You’re fine, you’re—” He had to cut himself off before his voice broke into a million pieces. His heart was racing, head spinning, hands frantically taking off his flannel to press against your stomach to stem the blood flow— you were a fighter, right? You fought everything, you never backed down, you wouldn’t this time, right?

“Dean,” You rasped out, in shock, looking down at the gash that was in your stomach, then back at him. “Dean.” It was like you were a broken record in your head, your head lolling forward, to which his hands flew up to keep your head up. Your body was fighting, he could see it in your eyes. “D—Dean.”

Your voice was strangled, and that was one of the worst sounds he’d ever heard in his life. Hearing it hurt his heart almost as much as seeing the wound did. You were pale, clammy — you were bleeding.

“Eyes on me,” Dean repeated, holding your face tighter in his hands, his eyes flitting to the wound every other two seconds. “Eyes on me, princess, c’mon, stay with me. Please.”

The panic was clear as hell in his eyes, like a storm tearing through a calm night. The sight of all that blood, your blood, staining your clothes and the ground beneath you tore his heart open and just left him raw.

He gently kept your head in place, not letting you slump, not letting you give up. “Stay with me. No falling asleep, sweetheart. Stay awake.” Just keep your eyes open, keep looking at him. He needed to see the light in your eyes.

You could feel it. You could, the pain stabbed through your stomach, making you let out a sort of strangled cry, breathing heavily. “I’m not— I’m not ok, am I?” You couldn’t even recognise your own voice, it was hoarse, it was raspy. Oh, God, oh, God.

The cry punched Dean in the gut, and he held back an almost strangled sound from himself, the way your voice was so quiet and broken making his heart shatter. He didn’t answer your question, because if he knew you weren’t ok, he’d lose it. He’d go insane with worry.

He shook his head, refusing to believe it, refusing to accept it— you were fine, goddamn it, you were gonna fight. “It’s gonna be ok. You’re gonna be fine.” He repeated those words like a mantra, both for your benefit and his.

“I can’t— just tell me.” You begged, your eyelashes fluttering, but you kept them open, wanting to hear it. “Tell me you’ll be ok, Dean, please.” You reached for his hand on your cheek, gripping it. “You an’ I both know I ain’t makin’— makin’ it outta here.”

“Stop it. Stop it.” Dean’s voice was a broken whisper, his chest heaving. He couldn’t lose you, he would not. “You’re gonna be fine. You’re gonna be fine because I won’t let you die on me, do you understand?”

He wanted to break, he wanted to scream at the world, he wanted to cry and sob. But if he did, he’d fall apart. You needed him to stay strong, to keep you alive.

“Then tell me something good.” You whispered, hot tears rolling down your grimed cheeks, eyes becoming more vacant by the second and he saw it. “Tell me something good, talk t’ me.”

Talking, he could do that — talking was a distraction, yeah, distraction for the both of you. What was something good, though? What could he say to you that would be any reassurance when you were literally bleeding out in his arms?

“You know what’s good?” He spoke, his voice strained but still a little gruff. “You are. You’re so goddamn good. And when we get out of here— because we will get out of here, got it — I am gonna tell you that every day.”

You grinned weakly, losing control over your breathing, gripping his hand as fear struck through in the form of pain in your lower abdomen. “I love you.” You blurted, laughing a little in relief — a weak, barely there laugh — that you’d finally said it. You finally did it. “Never told you that, but god, I’m crazy for you, Dean. Just— just remember that.”

For once in his life, his heart soared and plummeted at the same time. You were saying this now? You had to say it now? Not when you were safe, when he could celebrate getting your love and devotion in words and actions.

“You’re a goddamn idiot, you know that?” The scoff he let out sounded wrecked, but his thumb was a gentle caress against your face, trying to sooth you, wipe away the tears. “Why say it now?”

“You know I don’t know how feelings work.” You scoffed, unable to stop a watery laugh, blood trickling from the corner of your mouth as you coughed, some more dribbling down. “But I’m glad I— that I said it. You love me back, right? You…” You looked to him for some confirmation. Any at all.

He ached at the sound of that laugh, and he almost winced at the sight of the blood dribbling from your mouth. You were losing it too fast for his liking, but you were staying awake, and that was something he wanted to cling to.

“Of course I fucking love you back.” The admission was instant, like he had no time to be coy or hide it. Hell, what was the point of hiding anything at this rate? “Been crazy about your stubborn, beautiful ass for years. Thought it was plain to see, sweetheart.”

“Do I have to remind you that I ain’t a psychic?” You coughed again, gripping his hand tight, eyes dropping to his lips. “C’mere. Please, c’mere, Dean. Just— I’m losin’ it fast, don’t leave me hangin’.”

“Not leaving you, sweetheart.” He assured you, his voice quiet as he gently lifted you and manoeuvred you so you were laying properly in his arms. All the while, one hand kept firm and hard against your stomach, while the other gently touched your face, the curve of your cheek, your hair — anything he could get his hands on.

He leaned down and pressed his lips against yours, trying not to think about how much his heart was screaming at the idea of losing you.

Your hand left his, cupping his own cheek, even if you knew you tasted copper and he probably could too. The kiss was simple, sweet, slightly desperate and one hell of a goodbye, not wanting to let it go, salt from your tears staining your lips as well.

The taste of your tears and your blood was something he didn’t want on his tongue, not one damn bit. It felt like a goodbye, like you were giving up, and he couldn’t have that. You were too damn good to give up, too good for him to say goodbye to.

“Please.” He mumbled against your lips, desperately kissing you, like they could keep you here, like a kiss from him would keep you alive.

“I don’t wanna go.” You whispered, losing grip fast, desperately holding on to talk to him. “Just— just don’t blame yourself, ok? It was my— my dumbass that got us here. Ok? So— so just tell me it’s ok, tell me you’ll be ok.”

“I don’t blame ya, god, I don’t." He didn’t even stop to think, he didn’t know how he’d keep going in a world without you. “Stop taking responsibility, you stupid—“

He cut himself off, hating how you were trying to act like your own death wouldn’t shatter him. All he wanted was to be able to fix this — fix you — and keep you alive.

He grabbed your hand and pressed it to his chest, wanting you to feel his heart, feeling your hand curl into his undershirt.

“Dean, please, tell me I can go.” You begged, feeling the tears fully roll down your face now, giving him a brave smile. “Tell me it’s ok, please, I can’t— I can’t hold on anymore.”

He didn’t want you to go, he couldn’t let you go, but he could see it in your eyes that your grip on the world was slipping. You were so damn brave, but he was selfish, he would do anything to keep you here, even just for a second longer.

“Go where?” He knew what you meant, but he wanted to hear it one more time, he wanted a few more seconds hearing your voice. “Please, sweetheart, fight for me.”

“I love you.” You murmured, voice weak, low, head tipping forward so your forehead rested against his cheek. “I love you… I can’t…” Your breathing was slowing, grip loosening on his hand. “Tell… me.” He had to, right? He had to say it’s ok.

“Don’t you dare.” He hated the weakening tone in your voice, the way your hand slackened; hated how you were making your peace because that wasn’t allowed, not now.

He wanted to stay strong. He didn’t want to break, but hearing your voice like that, so weak and soft, broke something in his chest. Dean pulled you as close as possible, burying his face into the crook of your neck, letting the first sob free from his throat.

He gave in. “Course it’s ok. I’ll be ok, sweet girl, I’ll be ok.”

He felt you let out a breath, but you didn’t take in another one. Your head fell limp against his shoulder, but you didn’t pick it back up. Your hand released his shirt, slid down like it was weighted and never got back up.

Your eyelashes fluttered, closed, but you didn’t open them again.

His whole damn world stopped. He had felt everything, even heard the moment your breath left you, and then nothing. Every good thing, every sweet moment, every stupid laugh and smile and sarcastic comment — it all just stopped.

Dean sat there for a long moment, refusing to believe it, refusing to believe you were gone. He gently laid you as best he could, not letting go as he put his fingers against your throat, trying to find your pulse.

There was nothing, he found nothing, just your cheeks paling, head limply falling sideways, lips parted — stained with blood — one final tear rolling down your cheek.

You were cold.

“No. No.” He couldn’t stop himself from pulling you back into his lap, cradling you to his chest like a broken doll. He wanted to scream, he wanted to cry, he wanted to tear apart the world and everyone in it for letting this happen.

He let out a wretched sob, burying his face into your hair, wanting to feel you just one more time, praying to a god he was never sure existed to bring you, his pretty girl, back to him.

“Come back.” He whispered, his voice cracking, begging. “Please, please, come back to me, just breathe again, give me something— anything.”

He gently gripped your chin, lifting your head up so he could see your face one more time, ignoring the fact that you were so damn still. Just a breath, that’s all he needed, just one damn sign you were still with him, even if it was just for a few seconds.

“I’ll do anything.” He choked out, pressing messy kisses to your face and hair, not caring about the blood — he’d never care less about it, he’d take every damn drop you had left in you. “Sweetheart, just open your eyes, just move for me, please?”

Nothing.

“Please?”

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[leth-writes]

yandere batfam x vampire reader

BRUCE

You wake up chained to a corner in an ornate room. It seems that Bruce Wayne has caught you. The chain is iron but the collar is a plush fabric, preventing chafing. This really symbolizes your period of captivity with Bruce. Harsh rules, soft application.

He keeps you in that room, absent of any furniture except a bed and the bathroom, which you have to ask to use, until he can fully trust you. Even then, you won’t be able to ever leave the grounds of the manor. Alfred is intrusted to taking care of you during the times where Bruce can’t be around you.

He completely shifts his sleep schedule to match yous; sleeping during the day, in a room right next to your so he can hear you through the walls and watch the live video feed of you curled up, napping, as he falls asleep. He wakes during the night and cuts down on his time as Batman, at least until he can trust you.

When it comes to drinking blood, he prefers if you drink from him, usually from his wrist as he stands, hovering above you, but he’ll let you use some of his extra stash in the cave if necessary.

DICK

With Dick, you wake up in his bedroom. You’re probably in a pen, cordoning off part of the room; he wishes he could trust you but he just can’t, not yet. There’s silver bars that’ll burn you if you get too close, but otherwise you aren’t chained up.

He’ll push to psychologically break you as quickly as possible. He’s forcing you to stay up and stopping you from drinking any blood until you’re begging and pleading in a heap on the floor, crawling toward him when he opens the door and steps into your pen.

He holds your exhausted, weak bodhy in his arms and feeds you his blood, watching and smiling as you lathc onto the small incision he’s made on his wrist. He’s practically rocking you back and forth, soothing any anguish you’ve been feeling.

The sudden absence of pain, combined with his touch, trains you to associate him with pleasure rather than fear, and you’re suddenly clinging onto him, refusing to let go.

This was his plan all along, and now you can come cuddle on the bed with him :)

JASON

You’re completely tied down with thick leather straps. He isn’t letting you budge for at least a year, but due to your vampiric abilities, you won’t get hurt from that. The only exception is when he feeds you laced blood and lets you go to the bathroom.

He only feeds you blood he’s gotten from the family; as much as he wants to, he can’t feed you his for fear of corruption due to the lazarus pit. It kills him that he can’t feed you, but he’d rather keep you soft and compliant.

So, he laces every bag until you’re comfortable with him touching you and moving you around. This is when he stretches your limbs and makes sure your muscles don’t fully atrophy.

He secretly likes how weak, how dependent, you are on him. You remind him of a younger version of himself, and he’s incredibly protective. Won’t let any other member of the family into the safehouse, let alone in the same room. Various members try, he threatens to shoot them, they leave.

Your feedings are soft and comfortable, all cozied up in a blanket on his lap as he feeds you from a mug. It’s kinda weird but he also warms it up. Don’t ask, he swears it’s better for you.

If your teeth start to hurt from not being able to bite, he’ll massage your gums. Don’t fight it, he’ll tie you back down and pump you so full of drugs you’ll see stars. Jason doesn’t mess around when it comes to your health, it’s his main priority, even over your pride.

Eventually starts to wean you off the drugs, and you’ve come to rely on him for practically everything. being able to nurture you and keep you safe heals that vulnerable part of him he’s pushed deep down, under the pit, and lets that old part of him blossom.

TIM

Tim takes the longest amount of time to get you used to him. He probably gets you set up in this old victorian mansion, and you honestly have the run of the place, except for the windows and doors, which are lined with silver bars. Blood bags are delivered through a slat in the door, covered with his scent. It’s the only connection you have with the outside world.

You spend over a year in this mansion. At first you’re convinced you’ve got it easy, until the touch starvation starts to set in. You start spending more and more time just lingering by the door, hoping that he’ll come in and finally talk to you. You spend more time begging and pleading through the slat than you do drinking the blood, and you find yourself clutching the thick bag to yourself, just to keep that scent, that connection, for even a moment longer.

Finally, he starts talking back. It’s slow at first, just little one-word answers here and there, maybe once a week, then he slowly ramps it up.

Eventually you’re having hour-long conversations, trying to beg him to just come in and hug you, you’re so desperate.

That’s when he swoops in and takes you back to the manor. All of your old relationships are completely decimated and you’re entirely reliant on him to keep yourself sane, latching onto him like a lighthouse in the storm. It took a while but honestly your bond is probably the strongest out of all of the examples. He knows what he’s doing.

[snail-migraine]

Yandere Tartaglia

This man is like a dog when it comes to his darling.

Sweet and caring to you but to everyone else he is a dangerous maniac who will attack anyone who dares to take a step too close.

I imagine that he probably found his darling when they were just wondering the streets.

No food, no water, no mora to their name. Nothing.

Not even a home or a family to go back to. Absolutely nothing.

Looking at your malnourished body, he felt both pity and anger.

How could someone, anyone for that matter, just walk by and let you slowly decay like this?

Certainly not him.

He decided in that moment he was going to take care of you.

"Shh, it's okay. Don't be scared. You're going be okay, everything is going to get better I promise."

He basically just picked you up, put up on his shoulder, and said "This is mine now."

In the beginning he tries his best to keep his distance, especially since he doesn't fully know what you went through on the streets.

And also you don't know that he's just trying to make sure you're okay.

It pains him to see you flinch away from all of his touches, when you refuse to eat for fear of being poisoned.

He doesn't know who made you so paranoid but all he knows is that he'll try to make your life as comfortable as possible.

And if that means he has to keep at an arms length, then so be it.

But everytime he sees you cuddle up close with the mountain of pillows and blankets on your bed, he can't help the burning jealousy he feels.

Why can't you cuddle him like that?

Once you start showing signs of getting better, your temper tantrums lessen in numbers, and you no longer flinch quite as hard when he pats your head. That's when he decides that now is the time to let loose.

"Sweetheart! Where's my sweetie? Where are you baby? Come here and give me some smooches."

The man is so smitten for you.

You have one of the most powerful men in teyvat wrapped around your delicate little pinky and you didn't even realize it.

He showers you with all of his love, from gift-giving, to quality time, to snuggling up together at all hours of the day.

You and him are practically attached at the hip.

However once you start getting better he has to go back to being a Harbinger.

Most of his job just includes him moving around a lot and not being able to come back home to Snezhnaya all too often.

Which means he either has to take you with him or leave you back at home.

As much as it pains him to do so he chooses to let you stay back home in Snezhnaya.

You've only just got use to being home in Snezhnaya, it would be cruel to make you start hopping place to place just to be with him.

It tears his soul apart that he has to leave you, but as a member of the Fatui, he does what he has to do.

He decides it's best not to introduce you to his family just yet, and instead allow you to be guarded by Fatui members when he's not around.

What he doesn't know however is that you plan on escaping when both he and the guards are not looking.

You're not much of a hassle to begin with so the guards have a tendency to slack off whenever they feel like it.

Which usually means taking short naps during their long working hours.

All you had to do was figure out when they usually fall asleep and prepare.

When the hour comes your more than ready, every fiber in your body is practically jumping with joy at being away from Tartaglia.

You wade through the thick snow of your Homeland, with a giant fur coat engulfing your body as you figure out which way to go.

In your excitement you don't think to cover your tracks. Which is how, when Tartaglia came home to an empty house with nothing but sleeping a guard to comfort him, he knew exactly where you went.

"Stop fighting it.", Ajax's tone drips with his barely contained rage. If his iron-grip on you wasn't a sign of his anger, then his voice for sure was.

Words couldn't describe how enraged you made him. He'd thought you been getting better, that you'd grown past wanting to run away. Turns out the moment he let his guard down is the moment you decided to sprint.

How dare you?

How dare you play with the strings of his heart like this. He trusted you with his heart and you just rip it all to shreds like it never even mattered.

His footsteps crunch in the crisp snow. His face no longer looks like that sweet, smitten, puppy dog that you knew. No this Ajax is cold, dangerous. The Ajax you knew was gone the moment he figured out you decided to run away from the sweet domestic home life you were so graciously blessed with. The Ajax you knew was replaced with Tartaglia the cold eleventh Harbinger of the Fatui.

The one who served the Tsaritsa with nothing but blind loyalty and bloodied blades.

You should've known that this plan would've failed. You should've known that Ajax would've done anything to get you back into his arms. Oh but how hope can blind the weak.

Hope prays on our dreams and tells us that no matter what we will prevail. No matter how many times we stumble and fall. Hope will guide the way. What a load of shit.

Hope is what got into this mess, carried like a princess, your arms held together tight behind you, your 'Lover' stalks his way back to the mansion hidden deep within the dense Snezhnayan forest. The very same mansion that has held you prisoner.

Hope has done nothing but lead you blindly into situations that progressively get worse and worse. You know that so far Ajax has been gentle with for fear that you'd get scared and try to run away. Now that you have, you tremble at what he might do to you now.

With every passing moment your mind fills with worse and worse images of torture you'd havr to endure at Ajax's hands. All because you allowed yourself to believe in some shitty hopefulness. With every new image, your lungs tighten even more. Your heart pounds in your chest, and your legs twitch. Every bone in your body screams at you to run.

But again, that's what got you here in the first place. Didn't it?

Ajax darts his eyes down at you, taking in your shakey form. Your uneven breathe and beating heart all tell-tale signs of how scared you are. How scared you are of him. Your terror must've taken over all of logical thinking.

No matter how angry you make him he'd never lay a so much as a finger on you.

Never.

He sighs before kissing your forehead, the kiss is soft and loving. Reminding you of the Ajax you knew. His face falls from the once tight expression to one more somber and melancholy.

Stress and disappointment etched onto his features. He loves you so much, and he hates that he'll have to punish you. But he can't just let you get away with this.

He brings you up higher, digging his face deep into the crook of your neck. Taking in a whiff of the sweet citrus perfume he gave you. You don't move, your body turned frigid the moment he kissed your head. You don't understand what's going on.

He lifts his head up, looking you in the eye. His eyes mimic a raging sea, waves of blue and teal swirl together to make a his powerful gaze. The look in his eyes is enough to bring tears to your eyes.

You've never seen him look at you like that. With such sorrow and sizzling frustration.

He brings a hand up to your face, wiping away all the tears falling from your watery eyes as he coos in your ears.

"Oh baby, don't cry, there's no need to be scared. I'd never hurt you. I only want what's best for you. But I can't just let stunts like this go unpunished. I promise you, it'll be over before you know it. Okay baby?"

[letstalkaboutshtufff]

I’m sorry I wasn’t enough pt 2 final

Neteyam sully x Reader mate

Pairing: Neteyam te sully x wife Reader

Warnings: Mentions of blood and injury

**************************************************

It was like a dream, weird swirling colors, buzzing noises, nothing really making sense but somehow you knew what was going on. You were passing on…going back to the great mother. Your finger had long left your neck. The silence afterwards sealing your fate. He didn’t hear you.. he wouldn’t come…

The swirling colors increased until your vision was completely obscured. Who knew dying would look so.. so beautiful…

You didn’t feel any pain anymore, just a calm numb feeling… it wouldn’t be long now… your eyes fluttered closed, the colors morphing into swirling darkness.

You accepted your fate, welcomed it even just a bit. Your only desire was to let go.

Something was making noise making you flinch a bit as the peace was disturbed.

The noise didn’t stop, something.. no someone was yelling something… a pressure on your face and body, something pressing into your delicate skin.

You tried to push it away, wanting to be at peace again but felt something holding your hands down,

Stop- mv—- please—- help someon-!

A voice in the distance muffled but somehow familiar..

Suddenly the numbness was gone and firey hot pain tugged you back to reality. Your eyes shot open but you couldn’t see anything, only blurs of color.

You cried out loudly trying to move away whatever was pressing on your wound making it hurt more.

“I know I know I’m sorry! Just hold on, I need to keep pressure, I’m sorry!” You couldn’t believe your ears.

“N-neteyam?” You sobbed out.

“Shh don’t talk, just stay still-why didn’t you say anything before!?”

That made you hurt worse than the wound,

“I-I’m s-sorry, please d-don’t be mad” you choked out more sobs.

“I’m- I’m not mad please don’t talk, just hold still please”.

You silently cried as he tried his best to apply pressure.

You squeezed shut your eyes trying to shut out the pain.

“I need to get you to grandmother”

You felt Neteyam move your hands and he instructed you to hold down, then quickly he gathered you up into his arms.

How ironic you thought, for months all you wanted was for him to embrace you like this.

You kept your eyes closed but from the air zipping past you you could tell Neteyam was running as fast as he could.

You could feel yourself weakening again, having no strength left your head rested on his chest.

His heartbeat is so fast…

“Don’t fall asleep, stay awake please, we’re almost there!”

You hummed trying your best to keep your eyes open.

“Grandmother help! Kiri! She’s been shot-please!”

Moat had never heard Neteyam so frantic since he was a child. She quickly urged him over to a bed on the ground and wasted no time inspecting the wound.

“Neteyam hold her up I need to see her back”.

Neteyam muttered an apology when you groaned in protest.

“No exit.. the bullets still inside, we need to get it out quickly, she’s lost too much blood. Neteyam you need to hold her still, this will hurt..”

Neteyam as instructed moved behind you holding you tightly down.

“Be strong child…” you braced yourself but nothing could have prepared you for the pain.

You immediately screamed and thrashed but Neteyam held you down,

“Shh mawey mawey, it’ll be over soon, mawey mate” Neteyam spoke into your ear, heart feeling like it was being ripped apart by each and every scream.

“Hold her down!”

Neteyam nodded and held you even tighter, “shh it’s alright, everything will be alright, I’m sorry”

“There it is done..”

Neteyam let out a breathe of relief, “it’s over, breathe mate breathe..”

“Will she be ok?” You felt the arms around you loosen and guiding you back to lay down. Although the hand on your shoulder stayed..

Moat nodded, “the bullet is out but she has lost a lot of blood. She will be weak for awhile but I believe she will be fine. I will watch her closely, don’t worry child..”

“Here give her this to drink” Moat handed her grandson a wooden cup filled with a mushy green liquid.

You were almost asleep when you felt your head being lifted up, “Drink y/n, it’ll help with the pain..”

This time when your eyes opened they were able to focus on the furrowed brows of your mate. His glowing eyes focused on the cup at your lips. You choked a bit and he held you up a bit higher. A warm finger swiped at the liquid that dribbled down your lips.

Maybe you were dead…

Neteyam realized you were looking at him although words seemed to fail the both of you at the moment. With a clearing of his throat he settled you back down. You felt something cold and soothing being applied to your wound and soon you were lulled into sleep.

***************************************************

Neteyam watched as your breathing changed. He let out a sigh and leaned back. Hands running over his head.

“Neteyam!” The tent flap opened revealing his parents.

“What happened?!” Jake crouched next to his son eyes scanning over you before landing back on neteyam.

“She was shot…” Neteyams voice was tired and full of emotion.

Neytiri gasped and kneeled down on the other side and held your hand. “Will she be ok?”

“She should recover. We had to remove the bullet but it didn’t hit anything vital” Moat spoke up.

“Thank the mother…”

After some silence Jake eyed his son who looked like he’d shot her himself by his demeanor.

“You ok?” Jake placed a hand on his shoulder.

Neteyam glanced up, “I’m fine, why wouldn’t I be?”

“She’ll be ok, she’s tough ya know.”

Neteyam stayed quiet, the one thought haunting him. Why did she hide it?

His mother ever so observant asked him, “what is it Neteyam?”

His eyes flitted up to her, then his father then back to you, guilt flooding his features.

“She didn’t tell me..”

“Didn’t tell you what?” Jake furrowed his brow.

“That she was hurt…”

Jake and Neytiris eyes widened, silently his mother got up and came to his other side pulling him in.

***************************************************

When you awoke the next morning you were in a lot of pain but not nearly anything compared to before.

Your mouth was incredibly dry so you tried to sit up to find some water.

You winced at the burning sensation.

“Stop you shouldn’t move yet!” Your eyes widened and whipped to the side finding Neteyam kneeling beside you quickly supporting your back and guiding you back down.

You tried to speak then quickly remembered the reason you wanted to get up in the first place.

“Here” he poured you some water into a cup and to your surprise instead of handing it to you he held it up to your lips in one hand and lifted your head with the other.

After you were done he set it back down. “How do you feel?”

“I’m alright..”

Silence

How you wished you could disappear this very moment…

“I um…I-I…” you hated how the tears were starting to come back so fast but you couldn’t help it. You wanted to apologize for so many things.

Neteyam looked a bit puzzled.

“A-are you in pain? I’ll call grandmother” he rose up quickly but you stopped him.

“No I-I’m fine…”

“Then what’s wrong…?” He kneeled back down a bit confused.

“I-I wanted to say I’m so sorry for everything… I know what I did was… I’m so so s-sorry”

Neteyam blinked, clearly taken aback by your words. His eyes softened, and for a moment, you thought you saw a flicker of something — maybe forgiveness, maybe confusion — but you couldn’t be sure. The sincerity in your voice, the rawness of your apology, seemed to cut through the room like a sharp breath.

“What are you talking about?” he asked gently, his tone almost lost in the stillness of the room. He reached out and placed a hand on your shoulder, his touch warm and reassuring, even though the weight of your apology hung in the air between you.

“I… I should’ve told you… what I was feeling. What I was going through,” you whispered, your voice trembling. You felt exposed, vulnerable, like the walls you’d carefully built up around yourself were crumbling to dust. “I should’ve said something, Neteyam. But I kept it inside. I kept hiding it, pretending like it wasn’t happening… like it didn’t matter. And then, when everything went wrong, I… I thought it would be easier if I just…”

His fingers tightened slightly on your shoulder, urging you to stop, his gaze intense. “No. Don’t say that.” His voice was firm, but soft — the tone of someone who had lived enough to know that guilt could eat you alive if you let it. “Y/N, listen to me. You don’t have to apologize for any of it. Not to me. Not to anyone.”

“But I hurt you, Neteyam. I—" Your breath hitched again, the knot in your chest tightening.

He shook his head, a soft sigh escaping him. “You didn’t hurt me,” he said, his voice low, almost like he was reassuring himself as much as you. “I didn’t know what you were going through either. You weren’t the only one keeping things in. But I… I should’ve noticed sooner. I should’ve been there for you, in the way you needed me to be.”

The weight of his words — the unspoken responsibility he was placing on himself — made you want to shrink. But at the same time, it gave you a strange comfort, like a weight lifting from your chest, even if just a little.

He looked at you, his eyes full of concern. “Don’t carry this burden alone. Not anymore. You don’t have to.”

You couldn’t answer right away, the rush of emotions swirling within you. But before you could speak, he leaned in a little closer, his hand still gently cradling your shoulder.

“I’m not angry with you, Y/N,” he said, his voice barely above a whisper, but somehow so steady. “I’m just… I’m scared.” His words sent a pang through your heart. “You scared me. I almost lost you.”

Tears welled up in your eyes again, but this time, they weren’t just for the things you hadn’t said. They were for everything — the fear, the love, the closeness you hadn’t realized you’d been missing.

“I’m sorry,” you whispered again, your voice breaking.

He shook his head once more. “No, no more apologies. You’re here now. That’s all that matters.”

You blinked at him, confused, a small sob escaping you. “But… Neteyam, I’m not strong like you. I’m not like everyone else. I can’t handle everything, and I don’t know how to continue on like this.. I just… I just want to be okay… for us to be ok..”

He didn’t answer right away. Instead, he reached forward, his thumb gently brushing the tears from your cheek, a small smile forming on his lips. “You don’t have to be strong all the time, Y/N. You don’t have to handle everything alone.” His voice softened, growing tender. “I’m here. From now on I’ll be here”.

Your heart fluttered in your chest, and a strange calmness began to settle over you, as if his words, his touch, were healing something deep inside you.

“I should’ve told you sooner,” you murmured, the weight of the unspoken finally coming to the surface. You could feel his breath close to yours as he leaned in, his forehead resting against yours. The warmth between you was all-consuming.

“You’re not alone anymore,” he repeated, almost like a vow.

You closed your eyes, letting the feeling of his presence, his promise, wash over you. And for the first time in a long while, the gnawing fear, the doubt — the suffocating loneliness — began to fade, replaced by something far gentler: a sense of belonging.

Later that evening, after the storm of emotions had subsided, Neteyam stayed by your side, even as his parents left to give you both some time to recover. The fire in the center of the hut flickered softly, casting a warm glow over the room. The gentle hum of the jungle outside felt distant, almost like a memory.

You could hear Neteyam’s breath, steady and rhythmic as he sat by your side, watching over you. You couldn’t remember the last time you’d felt this safe, this cared for.

“I didn’t know what to do when I found you,” he murmured quietly after some time, his hand still resting gently against yours. “You were slipping away… I thought… I thought I might lose you.”

You could feel the weight of his words settle into the space between you, and you wanted so badly to reach out, to reassure him. But it was hard to find the words. What could you say?

You squeezed his hand, and when you looked up at him, you saw the raw vulnerability in his eyes. The emotion in his gaze was so pure, so sincere, that it made your heart ache.

“I’m here, Neteyam. I’m not going anywhere.” Your voice was soft, but strong, the conviction in it clearer than ever before.

He stared at you for a long moment, as if measuring the sincerity in your words. And then, as if you had finally said the one thing he needed to hear, his lips curled into the smallest of smiles.

“Good,” he whispered. “Because I.. I want things to change.. I want us to be better. I’m sorry I’ve let things go on the way they have been for so long.. and I know things won’t change overnight but I promise to do better.. to be better because I do care for you…”

You smiled truly for the first in months and did something you’ve wanted to do for so long. You leaned forward and kissed him softly. A silent promise that you’d do your best too.

So sorry for the long wait! Life’s been chaotic but I’m back! Hope you enjoyed:)

@iloverhestars @hey-girl-hey @misshale21 @misscaller06 @christinechikiee @crazytacokoala @freellamabeliever @hiddenworld666 @tatahungry @levi-09

[just-aake]

Boundless Devotion - Part XV (Final)

Pairing: princess!Natasha Romanoff x fem!reader

Summary: MedievalAU. Natasha is the eldest princess of the Romanov Kingdom. As the time of her coronation approaches, she is suddenly forced to make a decision – either find herself a partner or her parents will choose one for her.

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6 | Part 7 | Part 8 | Part 9 | Part 10 | Part 11 | Part 12 | Part 13 | Part 14 | Part 15

Warnings: light angst, hurt/comfort, fluff

Words: 8179

It’s difficult to know how much time has passed when you’re trapped within your own mind.

One moment, you’re glaring at the one who you once believed was your father, wishing for his downfall. 

The next, you’re falling into the eyes of the one who holds your heart, all while gripping a dagger aimed at hers.

The lost time spent drifting between reality and darkness always leaves you with a sense of helplessness, especially when you later awaken to discover the actions you took during that time, actions that still haunt you.

Your current condition feels similar to that feeling of being trapped, except, unfortunately, this experience is far more agonizing.

With each passing moment, every part of you aches, both mentally and physically. 

The sensation only seems to intensify, worsening to where it feels as though your entire body is engulfed in flames, burning from the inside out. Even the simple act of breathing becomes a challenge, let alone attempting to move.

At times, the overwhelming agony drains you to the point where your weary mind is tempted to just surrender to the dark void at the edge of your consciousness, promising relief.

But then a voice breaks through amidst all of the pain, calling your name in desperate pleading.

Though your tired mind struggles to place the voice in the moment, it feels familiar. 

There's something about it that warms your heart, making you forget about the pain even if only for a fleeting moment. 

The devastation in their tone is the reason you find the sudden need within you to push through the agony, if only to help alleviate the sadness in their voice.

And so, that's what you decide to do.

You endure, and you stay.

Gradually, it starts getting better. The pain lessens along with fewer waves of feverish sensations coursing through your body. 

Eventually, you hear other voices too, all familiar and all concerned for you. And as your mind slowly recovers from the fog of pain, it begins to piece those voices with their respective owners.

Wanda and Pietro

Yelena and Kate

Carol

Even Queen Melina

Ironically, the one voice you hear the most, always a constant source of comfort and peace at your side, is the one that proves the most challenging to place.

Frustrated at the mystery of this person, you eventually gather enough strength one day to will your mind to wake up, determined to finally discover their identity.

Slowly, your eyes open, and after a few blinks, your vision clears.

The first thing you realize is that you’re not in your room, but the surroundings look familiar. With a dull ache on your stomach, you opt to turn your head instead to survey the rest of the area. 

As your gaze falls upon the sleeping figure by the window, illuminated by the afternoon sun casting a warm glow on her red hair, memories flood back, and you finally recall the owner of that elusive voice.

Natasha

With her eyes closed, the princess sits in her window seat facing you, her head resting on her hand against her bent knee. 

The realization that she must have fallen asleep, likely exhausted from watching over you, causes a sad bittersweet feeling to form in your heart.

Glancing around once more, you take in Natasha’s bedroom, a place you haven’t visited in a while since before everything that had happened last year.

Despite subtle changes in details, everything remains mostly unchanged. Her swords and armor hang securely on the wall, and her shelves are lined with books and personal items that she treasured through the years.

On her desk, a small stack of papers awaits her attention, likely documents of the kingdom needing review, and adjacent to them sits a tray of obviously untouched food.

You frown at the sight, aware of Natasha’s tendency to neglect meals whenever she’s stressed or too busy.

Returning your gaze to her, you notice the dark circles under her eyes, deepening your frown and concern. 

Intending to call out to her and urge her to rest in her bed, you open your mouth, but your parched throat betrays you, plunging you into a painful fit of coughing instead.

Natasha’s eyes snap open instantly, her body tensing in alertness as she searches the room, before locking onto you in realization.

She swiftly rises from the window seat and approaches the edges of the bed where you lie, her hand reaching out to comfort you but then she stops in hesitation just before she touches you.

As you regain your breath, you notice her hand clench with nervous energy before slowly withdrawing to her side.

Summoning your strength, you reach out and grasp her hand firmly, not letting her go far, as you intertwine your fingers and rest them atop the bed. 

You nod toward the bed, silently urging her to stay by your side.

Natasha's tense posture relaxes at your gesture, and a faint, relieved smile forms on her lips as she takes a seat at the edge of the bed. She reaches for the cup on the nightstand, bringing it to your lips and helping you take a sip, soothing your parched throat.

In a whisper so soft as if afraid to break the moment with you, Natasha asks, "How are you feeling?"

“Sore,” you respond honestly, your voice still strained.

A flash of regret flickers across Natasha’s face as she looks towards your injury. Not wanting her to spiral into guilt over what happened, you tug on her clasped hand to bring her attention back to you.

“Can you help me sit up?” you ask, determination in your tone as you release her hand and prepare to push yourself upright.

“You really shouldn’t be moving right now,” Natasha cautions, her hands hovering tentatively in concern.

“I know, but I want to,” you insist. 

The thought of continuing to lie helplessly on your back, a sight that likely tormented Natasha during your time of unconsciousness, doesn’t sit well with you.

You want to reassure her that you’re feeling better than your previously weakened state.

Natasha hesitates, torn between honoring your request or prioritizing your well-being. However, she comes to a decision when she sees the determined look on your face.

“You’re so stubborn,” she remarks with a gentle shake of her head, a hint of fondness in her voice, as her hands move to support you carefully in sitting up against the headboard.

“Takes one to know one,” you tease lightly, offering a small smile as you lean back, taking a moment to catch your breath.

A comfortable silence settles between you as you stare up at the ceiling, lost in thought.

Memories flood back, and you distinctly recall Natasha’s anguished face above you before darkness consumed your vision. 

Your smile drops slightly at the memory, and with a tired sigh, you turn to meet her patient gaze, breaking the silence.

“How long was I out for?” you ask softly.

“Three days,” Natasha responds gently.

Processing the information, disappointment washes over you as you realize what was supposed to have taken place yesterday.

“Your coronation…I missed it,” you say sadly.

Natasha chuckles softly, shaking her head in disbelief at your priority.

“No, you didn’t,” she reassures. “I’m not the queen yet.”

At your confused expression, Natasha continues her explanation.

“I postponed it. And before you say I didn’t have to, you know that there was no way I would have gone through with it without having you there.”

“Besides,” Natasha adds with a playful smirk. “Staying by your side is always better than any kind of event, even if it’s my coronation.”

Her comment lightens the somber atmosphere, drawing a small laugh from you, which makes her grin in turn.

The action causes a dull ache to appear at your side, and unconsciously, your hand moves to brush against the bandages covering where the blade had pierced you, reminding you of your ordeal.

“So what happened after…” you trail off, unable to voice the memory.

Natasha's gaze shifts sadly to your wounded area as she begins to explain.

"Yelena arrived with the physician shortly after. They tended to Pietro and you," she recounts. "Meanwhile, Kate stayed at her manor to apprehend the attackers and helped Wanda to recover."

Concern flickers in your eyes, prompting Natasha to offer a reassuring grin.

"Don't worry, Wanda's fine. She just tired herself out when she took down Rumlow and his followers.”

At your puzzled expression, Natasha moves her hand pointedly, mirroring the similar action of Wanda’s whenever she uses her powers.

“Oh,” you say, at a loss for words in realization.

Natasha chuckles at your expression, raising her brows at you.

“You did say she had a special way with people.”

Sighing worriedly, you explain your reasoning for keeping Wanda’s abilities a secret.

“You know how some people are towards magic, Natasha.”

“Well, considering she saved our lives, I’ll make sure no one messes with her, though I’m sure she can protect herself just fine.”

You let out a small breath of relief at her reassurance before inquiring further, “What about everyone else?”

Natasha tilts her head in thought as she continues to recount the events afterward.

“Clint was able to warn my dad, Steve, and Carol in time to capture the ones under control here in the castle. And as for the ones that went after my mom…” 

She lets out an exasperated sigh before continuing, “...let’s just say that they shouldn’t have attacked her in her lab when she was in the middle of mixing certain chemicals and powders.”

You chuckle lightly at the thought, knowing about Queen Melina’s tendency to cause explosions in her lab during her experiments. 

However, the mention of explosions brings a grim reminder of another figure Natasha hasn't mentioned yet.

“And Dreykov?” you ask cautiously. “Did he escape?”

Natasha's hand clench into a fist at his name, her expression clouding with silent fury.

"No, he's currently in prison, awaiting trial. Along with the rest of the traitors," she responds, shaking her head with resolve. 

Taking your hand in a reassuring grip, she adds, "But you don't need to worry about him. I won't let him hurt you ever again."

Natasha lifts your hand to her lips, pressing a gentle kiss against your skin.

“I promise.”

You offer her a grateful smile, relieved at the information.

However, a sense of resignation settles in as you prepare to bring up the next topic.

“I guess all that’s left is to decide what to do about me,” you say with a heavy sigh.

Natasha tightens her grip on your hand as she urges gently, "Just concentrate on getting better.”

You chuckle lightly before your expression turns somber as you clarify.

"No, I mean about me being the Stark princess."

An awkward silence descends in the air, both of you acutely aware of the weight of the decision looming over you.

As much as you dislike it, the reality of your identity remains, and you need to officially address its involvement in your future eventually. 

“What do you want to do?” Natasha finally asks, breaking the silence.

You contemplate your options and remember your conversation with Bucky, finding that your feelings about your decision remain unchanged even now.

"Honestly, Natasha, I want to just leave it in the past," you admit. "Everything's relatively peaceful between the kingdoms at the moment. What's the point in bringing up troubling revelations from mistakes in the past?"

“Are you sure?” Natasha questions in concern before pointing out. “You’re essentially rejecting your title as a princess.”

You nod, giving her a content smile.

​​"I've never needed it in my life before,” you say as you tilt your head at her in question, a hint of warmth in your voice as you ask, “Besides, I already have a princess in my life, don't I?”

Natasha returns your gaze with an affectionate smile before intertwining your hands together.

"Yeah, I'm yours," she affirms softly.

Gradually, you feel more strength returning to your body as you remain awake, nodding confidently as you adjust your position carefully.

"I think I'm feeling better enough to go back to my manor this evening," you observe, suggesting, "If you could have the twins come and help me, then you can finally get a proper night's sleep in your own bed tonight."

Before you can sit up any further, Natasha’s hand moves to your shoulder, gently holding you in place, her expression filled with disbelief.

Glancing at her hand, you give her a questioning look, causing Natasha to shake her head exasperatedly.

"If you think you're going to leave this bed anytime soon, especially after being stabbed for my sake, you need to think again," Natasha says firmly, her tone leaving no room for argument.

Meeting her gaze, you both engage in a standoff, locked in a silent challenge. After a moment, Natasha raises her brow at you.

“If the situation was reversed, would you let me move?” she asks pointedly.

You open your mouth to reply before deflating in resignation, knowing you would do the same as her if you were in her position.

“Fine,” you concede, though a small pout forms on your lips, before adding, “But I should still return your bed to you and move into one of the guest rooms.”

Natasha tilts her head in thought as she traces a pattern on the blanket on your lap before commenting.

"Is that really necessary? It's not like we haven't slept in the same bed before," she reasons, her tone light.

Then, with a teasing smirk, she adds, "Unless this is your way of avoiding me after I confessed that I love you."

You pause, taken aback by her casual declaration, and you feel your cheeks heating up as you finally process her words. 

When you see the victorious smirk on her face, you roll your eyes and shake your head, giving her a chatising look.

“You’re unbelievable,” you mutter, frustration evident in your tone, though there's a hint of fondness.

“I believe you’ve always called me charming,” Natasha retorts, her smirk widening.

Frustrated, your hands grip the collar of her tunic tightly, pulling her closer to you.

"Natasha Alianovna Romanov," you begin, your voice tinged with both exasperation and affection.

She smirks, amusement dancing in her eyes as she catches herself with her hands against the bed on each side of you, encasing you between her arms. 

Gazing at you with a teasing expression, she prompts, "Yes?"

With a small smile, you finally gather the courage to voice the words you've been longing to tell her.

"I'm in love with you," you confess softly, your heart pounding in your chest.

"That's good..." Natasha replies, her voice tender as she leans in closer, "...cause I'm deeply in love with you too."

Her words brush against your lips softly, and without hesitation, you tug her closer, closing the tiny distance between the two of you.

The kiss feels both new and familiar, a perfect blend of passion and tenderness, as you lose yourself in the moment, savoring the warmth of her lips against yours.

Natasha is the one who pulls back first, resting her forehead against yours and letting out a happy sigh.

"You have no idea how many times I've wanted to do that," she admits, her voice filled with sincere longing.

Unconsciously, you lightly bite your lip to keep the warmth and feeling of her there for a little longer, before noticing Natasha's gaze drifting down to the subtle movement. 

You recall the countless times you've witnessed that look of desire in her eyes, prompting a small chuckle to escape your lips as you pull her in closer.

"I think I do," you tease, brushing lightly against her lips. "You're not exactly subtle, princess."

Natasha lets out a tiny huff, her lips curving into a playful smile before she leans in for another kiss and then another, each one gentle and delicate, never leaving your lips for more than a second, as she steals your breath away and makes you melt against her.

Your hand, still lingering on her collar, instinctively seeks more contact, slipping beneath the thin layer of her clothing to clutch at her bare shoulder.

The warmth of her skin beneath your touch only intensifies the longing between you as you try to pull her closer.

As you go to deepen the kiss, the moment is suddenly shattered by an unexpected interruption.

“Oh my—Nat! Let her breathe! She just woke up!”

Startled, you pull back from Natasha, breaking the kiss, as your gaze shifts to the doorway where Yelena and Kate stand. 

Natasha groans in frustration, her head falling against your shoulder.

Kate quickly steps in to cover Yelena's mouth, offering you an apologetic expression.

"Sorry! We just wanted to check on you two. We didn't mean to interrupt," she explains, as Yelena’s objection is muffled behind her hand.

Still pressed against your neck, Natasha responds in an annoyed tone, "Then leave."

Yelena rolls her eyes at her sister's bluntness, pulling Kate's hand away to respond, "Alright, alright, we get it."

With a warm smile directed at you, Yelena adds, "It's good to see you awake, Y/n."

"Yeah, we're glad that you're okay," Kate chimes in, relief evident in her eyes.

You offer them both a grateful nod. "Thank you two for coming."

“I guess we’ll visit you later then,” Yelena remarks, moving to take Kate's arm and guide her away from the door.

As Kate closes the door behind them, you catch snippets of their conversation.

"Should we really, though?" Kate's voice holds a hint of hesitation. "I don't want to interrupt them again while they're...you know."

Yelena hums thoughtfully before responding, "I mean it's a good thing we did this time, or else Y/n would have probably pulled out her stitches trying to undress Natasha."

Your face flushes with embarrassment as you instinctively cover it with your hands, feeling a wave of mortification wash over you. 

Natasha chuckles lightly, adjusting her tunic as she shoots you a playful smirk, a teasing glint dancing in her eyes.

“Don’t even start,” you warn, noticing her mischievous expression.

Natasha holds up her hands innocently, adopting a nonchalant tone as she suggests, "I was just going to say we should have the physician come and check your condition."

She then adds with a teasing edge, "After all, you may have overexerted yourself from being so eager to kiss me."

You huff in disbelief, raising a skeptical eyebrow at her.

"I'm the eager one?" you ask, a hint of amusement in your tone.

Natasha nods with mock seriousness. 

"If you say so."

Rolling your eyes, you playfully swat at her shoulder, then turn away with a small pout.

"In all seriousness, though, let me go get the physician," Natasha says, amusement evident in her voice at your behavior.

As she turns to leave, you call out to her.

"Wait, Natasha.”

She turns back to face you, curiosity in her eyes.

Leaning forward, you catch her off guard with a surprise kiss before pulling away.

"...okay, now you can go," you whisper against her lips.

Natasha's eyes fluttered closed at the unexpected contact, her tongue lightly tracing where your lips touched hers. When she finally opens her eyes again, they seem impossibly darker, filled with a mixture of desire and love that makes your breath catch.

“That’s unfair,” she breathes out, her voice husky with desire. “…doing that just as I’m about to leave.”

You pull away slightly, only for her to follow, not allowing the distance between you two to grow. A sly, knowing grin spreads across your face as you tease her.

"I just wanted to see who between us is actually the one who's more eager."

"I'm your princess, yet you're teasing me like this," Natasha says playfully, feigning disbelief.

"And you still love me anyway," you point out, a fond smile playing on your lips.

Natasha's eyes soften, and she closes the distance between you once more, whispering her next words against your lips.

“Yeah, I do.”

~~~~~~~ ⧗ ~~~~~~~

Upon hearing that you were awake, Wanda and Pietro arrived quickly just as the physician was assessing your condition. 

Soon after, a request from her mother to speak with Natasha in private causes her to leave the twins in charge of watching over you at your insistence.

Now, Natasha stands in her private study, a deep frown creasing her forehead as she examines the letters that her mother had handed to her.

“What is this?” Natasha asks, her voice steady but laced with a subtle hint of anger as she reads the contents of some of the letters.

Melina lets out a heavy sigh, rubbing her temples as if trying to ward off an impending headache, knowing that her daughter won't take the news well.

“Many of the heads of the other noble houses in the kingdom are asking for Lord Dreykov’s release,” she reveals grimly.

“He tried to kill me,” Natasha states incredulously. “And yet they’re still defending him.”

“I warned you that Lord Dreykov is influential among the other nobles. You need strong evidence if you want people to turn their back on him,” her mother reminds her.

She then places a stack of documents on the desk, and Natasha quickly realizes that these are the results of Steve’s investigation.

Her mother continues her lecture, as Natasha skims the contents.

“The staff from the Bishop manor provided witness accounts of Lord Rumlow and the others' betrayal, but there were no witnesses at Dreykov’s manor besides you and Y/n.”

“What about his guards?” Natasha suggests.

Melina shakes her head grimly. “Found dead in their cells by unknown means.”

“What about Barnes?” Natasha points out the presence of the old captain.

Melina gives her a look of disbelief, raising an eyebrow. 

“The other nobles are not going to believe the words of a known criminal.”

Frustration and disbelief cloud Natasha's expression as she processes the information. She searches for another angle, another way to bring Dreykov to justice.

“If we can’t prove attempted murder against me, then what about the fact that he almost killed Y/n?”

Melina grimaces, her reluctance evident in her expression as she braces herself to deliver the answer Natasha doesn't want to hear.

“What is it?” Natasha presses, her tone betraying a hint of impatience.

Melina taps the stack of letters pointedly before explaining, “Many argue that Dreykov’s actions against Y/n are akin to a father disciplining their child and is not a crime, especially considering she survived. They believe it's a family matter that should be resolved within the respective house and not involve any others.”

Natasha's frown deepens as she hears this, her hand tightening around the letters.

“I told you handling the relationships between the nobles of the court is delicate work,” Melina reminds her gently.

“Yeah, I’m starting to see what you mean,” Natasha concedes, her expression resigned in anger at the twisted parts of the kingdom.

Melina offers a comforting gesture, placing a hand on Natasha's shoulder and giving her a proud look.

“Don’t worry, Natasha. Lord Dreykov can still be forced to face trial if you want. And I’m confident that you can convince the others to be on your side. In this matter and the future.”

Her mother’s encouragement does little to ease Natasha’s mind of the difficult task ahead for her once she becomes the queen.

Despite the troubling news, Natasha still thanks her mother for the warning before taking her leave.

Returning to your side, Natasha finds you resting once again, exhaustion evident in your features. She watches you with a tender and affectionate gaze, remembering her promise to protect you from any further harm. 

If there's one thing Natasha is certain of for the future, it's her unwavering commitment to fulfilling her vow to protect you.

With that resolve in mind, she later finds herself standing at the entrance of the most secure cell in prison, her arms crossed as she fixes a steely glare on the person seated in the shadows.

"Well?" Dreykov's voice cuts through the stillness of the chamber. “Is that girl dead yet?”

Natasha's jaw clenches at his callous words, refusing to be baited by his cruelty. 

A click of his tongue signals his understanding before he speaks again, his tone laced with a hint of mockery.

“No, you wouldn’t let that happen. So, then, are you here to finish what you started?”

Dreykov's eyes finally meet hers, his form emerging from the darkness as he tilts his head, his injuries still evident in the flickering light.

His face bears the remnants of bruises, one eye swollen shut—a testament to the beating Natasha had inflicted upon him when she first learned of the severity and uncertainty of your condition from the physician.

Unconsciously, Natasha's hands clench into fists, the memory of her rage surfacing as she recalls the moment she unleashed her fury upon him, her knuckles bruising and bleeding until Yelena intervened to pull her away. 

Dreykov catches her movement, a knowing glint in his eyes as a smirk tug at the corners of his lips.

“I see, so you’re mad because you can’t kill me,” he says confidently, accurately guessing her current predicament. “Tell me, how many of the other nobles have interceded for my release?”

Natasha grits her teeth in irritation at the extent of Dreykov's influence over the court and the fact he already knows that some nobles would rally to his defense. 

“They’ll abandon you once they realize what sort of person you truly are,” she retorts, her tone firm.

Dreykov chuckles in amusement, unfazed by her words.

“Feeling pressured already?” he taunts. “It’s just going to get worse from here on. After all, I’m not the only one in this kingdom who wants a war.”

“And you already know that I would never let that happen,” Natasha counters, her voice tinged with resolve. “That’s the whole reason why you didn’t want me as the queen in the first place.”

Dreykov eyes her critically, considering her words before a smirk dances across his lips.

“Perhaps I was wrong about you. You have potential. You just need the right…” he waves his hand dramatically. “…motivation.”

Rolling her eyes at his attempt at manipulation, Natasha turns to leave.

However, before she can reach the exit, Dreykov's voice calls out to her, stopping her in her tracks.

“Do you know what causes war the most, Your Highness? More than greed or vengeance?”

Natasha turns back to glare at him, irritated by his continued insinuations.

At her silence, he answers his own question.

“Love,” he spits out the word in disgust. “Such a foolish emotion, but you’d be surprised at how much destruction it can cause.”

He raises his brow at her, gesturing pointedly. “And it seems you have plenty for that pathetic girl.”

Natasha slams her fist against the bars, anger erupting, as she glares daggers at him.

“You better hope you don’t get to leave this cell, Dreykov. Because if I ever see you free…” she pauses, her voice lowering to a dangerous tone. “…I’ll kill you myself.”

Despite her threat, a pleased smile forms on Dreykov’s face, as if her words confirmed something for him, infuriating her further.

Turning swiftly to the door, Natasha indicates to the guards to let her out, but Dreykov's voice interrupts her again.

“I do have one more question for you.”

The door opens for her to leave as he continues.

“If that girl ever ends up in the way of you and your so-called peace, would you still choose to avoid war then…or would you fight for her?”

Natasha clenches her hand, finding herself unable to respond, her mind consumed by the weight of his words.

With a determined look, she decides not to entertain his question further, swiftly leaving the cell and slamming the door shut behind her.

“I look forward to seeing what your choice would be when that time comes, Your Majesty,” Dreykov's voice echoes tauntingly down the corridor as Natasha makes her way back to you.

~~~~~~~ ⧗ ~~~~~~~

The unsettling exchange with Dreykov from that night a week ago still lingers in her mind as Natasha sits at her desk, lost in thought.

She ponders his cryptic words, bothered by his confidence that trouble was coming, and especially at the implication of having you in the middle of it all.

Her main concern is for your safety, prompting her to consider every possible scenario where you might be at risk.

After all, she had come dangerously close to losing you during the recent conflict, a thought that sends a shiver down her spine every time.

Leaning back in her chair, Natasha’s gaze falls on the small opened box resting on her desk, illuminated by the soft moonlight filtering through the window.

The red gemstone embedded in the golden band glimmers with a silent promise, one that she hasn’t dared to ask you yet.

Pushing aside the unsettling thoughts of Dreykov's words, Natasha closes the lid of the box with a gentle sigh, tucking it away in the drawer for safekeeping. 

One day, she promises.

When she can guarantee your safety and ensure that she can provide you with a peaceful future, she’ll give it to you then.

A knock at her door draws her attention, and Natasha looks up to see you poking your head inside, a playful smile dancing on your lips.

"Don’t tell me you’re hiding already?" you tease, your voice laced with amusement.

Natasha's lips curve into a fond smile at the sight of you, her worries momentarily pushed aside by your presence.

Chuckling softly, she shakes her head before asking, “Did my mother send you?”

“She wanted me to make sure you wouldn’t be late,” you reply, walking over to her with cautious steps, mindful of your injury.

Leaning back against her desk, you give her a pointed look.

“After all, it’s your last ball as the princess before you become the queen tomorrow.”

Natasha smiles gently at the reminder before glancing down at the area of your dress where she knows the bandages are hiding underneath. Her expression softens with concern as she meets your eyes.

“How are you feeling?” she asks.

“Better,” you assure her. “I’ve been able to move around by myself without any help.”

Standing up, Natasha intertwines her fingers with yours, drawing you closer as she gazes at you.

“You look beautiful,” she compliments softly, her eyes reflecting genuine admiration.

“So do you,” you respond, your hand reaching up to gently brush against her cheek, slowly losing yourself in her gaze.

Then as if remembering your original goal, you clear your throat and nod towards the door. 

“We should go. Your mother’s expecting us,” you remind her.

At your suggestion, Natasha moves closer to you, enclosing you between the desk and her body.

“I’m sure we can spare a couple of minutes, can’t we?” she asks, her voice lowering suggestively, caressing the air as she leans in.

Raising a brow skeptically, you tilt your head slightly, your lips barely grazing hers as you ask, “Only a couple of minutes?”

The moment your lips touch hers, Natasha's eyes darken with desire, her breath catching in her throat.

Absentmindedly humming in agreement, she whispers, “…yeah, just a couple…” before closing the distance between you.

Arriving at the ball later than expected, you and Natasha are greeted by her mother at the entrance, who gives you both a reprimanding yet knowing look.

“I’m sorry,” you apologize, offering her a genuinely apologetic expression. “We lost track of time talking.”

Melina raises her hand in a stopping gesture at your explanation.

“No, don’t apologize, Y/n. I’m sure I can guess what happened,” she says, shooting a pointed glare at her daughter before turning her attention back to you.

“Would you mind giving us a moment alone?”

You nod in understanding, softly excusing yourself.

Natasha brings the back of your hand up for a gentle kiss goodbye before releasing it, and you turn to leave the two women to their private conversation.

“Hold on, Y/n,” Melina calls out to you before you can go too far.

Stepping up to you, Melina carefully examines you before adjusting the strap of your dress on your shoulder slightly.

“Do try to direct Natasha to a less visible area the next time you two decide to ‘talk’,” she advises with a raised brow.

A flush spreads across your face in realization, and you quickly place your hand atop the area she adjusted, before giving a reprimanding look to Natasha, who looks away, barely concealing the satisfied grin playing on her lips.

You offer a quick, polite thanks before swiftly making your exit, eager to leave the embarrassing situation behind.

Turning back to her daughter, Melina meets her gaze with a raised brow.

“I guess it’s safe to say that your relationship with Y/n is still going well?” 

Natasha smiles softly at her observation, her eyes still following you as you go to join the others.

“Yeah, it is,” she replies honestly.

“That’s good,” Melina comments, handing her a cup before taking a sip of her own. “It’s important to show the other nobles how good the two of you are together so that they can have more confidence in the future with you as the ruler.”

Natasha nods in understanding, taking a sip of her drink in preparation for another lecture from her mother.

“Even if your relationship started as a ruse in the beginning,” her mother adds nonchalantly.

Natasha chokes on her drink in surprise at her mother’s words, coughing lightly as she gives her an incredulous look.

Melina raises a brow at her in challenge, daring her to deny her claim.

Looking away, Natasha glances over to where you are, oblivious to you and her arrangement being revealed at the moment.

As if feeling her eyes on you, you glance up, meeting her eyes and giving her a soft smile. She returns it before returning her focus to her mother.

Knowing there’s no point in trying to convince her mother otherwise, Natasha asks instead, “When did you figure it out?”

“Oh, I’ve had my suspicions since the beginning,” her mother reveals, swirling the contents of her cup in thought as she recalls how the events all started. 

“That morning, Y/n mentioned in passing about her meeting with Lady Maria as a potential partner, so I knew I had to do something to make you act.”

Natasha's brows furrow as she pieces together her mother's words with her own memories. She was right to think it was odd that her mother would suddenly take an interest in her love life, especially with such a ridiculous ultimatum given in such a short time.

“Wait, let me get this straight,” Natasha interjects, holding up her hand as she processes the information. “You're saying the only reason you pressured me to find someone was because you found out about Y/n’s date with Lady Maria?”

Melina nods before offering Natasha a sympathetic pat on her back.

“Let’s be honest, Natasha, you can be quite oblivious when it comes to your feelings for Y/n. I only pushed you to pay more attention to your love life because I didn’t want you to miss your chance with her.”

“No, you said that if I didn’t find someone, you were going to choose someone for me,” Natasha reminds her mother, her tone tinged with frustration.

Melina waves her hand dismissively.

“I was confident that you would come up with something before it ever got to that point, and you did. This charade that the two of you concocted worked out much better in the end, wouldn’t you agree?”

Natasha gapes at her mother, blinking in disbelief. She pinches her brows, feeling a headache forming at her mother’s antics.

“Please, go meddle with someone else's love life,” Natasha pleads, her patience wearing thin.

“Don’t be so dramatic, Natasha,” she says, chuckling, before pressing on, undeterred by her daughter's exasperation. “Now, tell me, have you thought of a plan on how to propose to Y/n yet?” 

Meanwhile, after leaving Natasha with her mother, you join the pair at one side of the ballroom. Stepping in front of the twins with a warm smile, you admire their new formal clothing that you had arranged for them to attend the event. 

“Well, don’t you two look beautiful and dashing?” you compliment, ruffling Pietro’s hair playfully. He swats at your hand lightly with a pout, then tugs at the collar of his shirt.

“I think you and Wanda are just trying to choke me in this,” he comments.

A red mist envelopes his topmost button and undoes it, granting him some relief.

“Better?” Wanda asks, returning her hand to cross her arms at her brother’s exaggerated behavior.

“Yes, I can actually breathe now,” Pietro responds with a teasing smirk, nudging his sister in thanks.

At the corner of your eye, you notice some nobles nearby shooting disapproving glares at your group, their attention mostly focused on Wanda, and then they begin to speak to each other, their voices intentionally loud.

“So disgraceful that they allow such people in here.”

“Did you see her eyes? They say it’s red like a demon.”

Pietro scowls at their words, moving protectively in front of his sister, but you stop him before he could confront them.

Then placing a comforting hand on Wanda’s shoulder, you check up on her. She gives you a reassuring smile, truly unbothered by their harsh words. 

You’re glad to see her adjusting okay to the fact that her powers are now known by others in the kingdom.

Still, you will not stand idly and let them talk about people you care about like that. The twins may not be in a position to say anything, but you can always defend and protect them.

Before you can confront the rude nobles, however, they are suddenly pushed off balance, stumbling to the ground, as the pair of canines rush through their legs towards you.

Their respective owners follow swiftly after them, with the younger princess giving the people a glare and challenging look, causing them to avert their gaze in embarrassment, looking elsewhere.

Yelena turns to your group with a satisfied grin.

“Don’t mind them, Wanda. They’re always judging everyone,” she says.

Kate nods in agreement, adding, “Yeah, intolerant people like them are not worth your time. There’s plenty of people in the kingdom who already know you’re amazing.”

Pietro chuckles and places his hand atop his sister’s head teasingly, remarking, “Careful with the compliments now, we wouldn’t want her getting a big head.”

Wanda rolls her eyes in response, shoving his arm off and commenting pointedly, “Your head is already big enough for the both of us.”

As the four of them continue their playful conversations, your eyes spot a familiar face hovering in the shadows at the edge of the ballroom.

Excusing yourself, you make your way over to the lone captain.

“Not one for parties?” you ask as you step up next to Bucky.

He sighs and shakes his head as he observes the surrounding guests joyfully engaged in celebration.

“It’s been a while since I attended events like these, but then again, I’ve never enjoyed them before anyway,” he admits.

Curious about something that you’ve been wondering about him, you finally ask. 

“Why did you decide to come to this kingdom? You know, after hiding away for so long.”

A silence follows, and just as you think he’s going to leave your question unanswered, he finally responds, nodding toward the distance. 

“To visit a friend.”

You follow Bucky’s gaze and realize he’s looking at Steve, who’s currently in conversation with Clint and Maria.

As if feeling your eyes, Steve glances up toward your direction, giving you two a welcoming smile and waving his hand in invitation.

A small smile forms on Bucky’s face, surprising you, and you find yourself asking curiously, “Then why not just stay? Enjoy life without constantly looking over your shoulder for danger and having to run away.”

He chuckles ruefully, giving you a look of disbelief. 

“I’m the most wanted criminal of the Stark Kingdom. Nowhere is safe for me or for those who help me.” 

“Well, at least consider the option,” you say, nudging him gently and giving him a pointed look. “Because you do have more than one friend here.”

He examines you carefully before giving you a silent, noncommittal nod, and you understand that this will be the most you’ll get from him.

“Y/n!” 

At the call of your name, you turn to see Carol coming towards you. As you turn back around to excuse yourself, you're not surprised to find Bucky has sneaked away.

Carol stops in front of you, the happy smile fading slightly into a serious expression as she examines you critically.

"How are you feeling?" she asks with genuine concern.

The familiarity in her question makes you laugh lightly as you shake your head.

“You and Natasha. Why do you two keep asking me that?”

Carol raises an amused brow at you.

"It's because we both care about you, Y/n," she answers softly before tilting her head in thought. 

"Maybe the fact we both like the same things is why we're always competing with each other," she muses aloud before extending her hand in invitation.

"Speaking of, would you like to join me for one dance before Natasha decides to keep you all to herself?"

You give her a playful warning look, raising your brow at her.

"No extravagant twirling, lifts, or dips?" you ask, knowing her tendencies.

Carol nods in reassurance, answering firmly, "I promise."

As she leads you in a slow dance, keeping an easy pace to avoid tiring you, you seize the moment to ask her something.

“Are you leaving after the coronation tomorrow?”

Carol nods in confirmation.

“That’s the plan,” she responds. “I want to do as much exploring as I can before my own coronation.”

A tiny, sad smile forms on your face at Carol's words. You've honestly missed her since she started her travels. Poking her pointedly, you give her a serious expression.

"Still, you should come visit more often," you tell her. 

Her eyes soften, and she gives you a small nod.

“For you, I will,” she says, a hint of affection slipping into her tone. "If you ever need anything, Y/n, just let me know, and I’ll have my ship practically fly back to you."

Her eyes glance at something behind you before she shrugs, adding with a sigh, “And I guess the same applies to Natasha if she ever needs my help again.”

“How generous,” Natasha remarks dryly, her voice tinged with sarcasm, as she comes to a stop beside you.

Carol gives you a small bow in thanks, her expression teasing as she remarks, “Looks like my time’s up.”

“Natasha,” she greets, giving her an acknowledging nod.

Natasha returns the sentiment, her demeanor cool as she replies, “Carol.”

Carol gives you one last smile, before pressing a chaste kiss on your hand goodbye and whispering sincerely, “Be happy, Y/n.”

As she leaves, you glance at Natasha and notice the small displeased pout on her face.

Unable to resist teasing her, you nudge her gently, remarking, “Jealousy looks cute on you.”

Natasha huffs in disbelief at your statement before offering her hand to you.

“May I have a dance?”

As Natasha leads you in a slow dance, you can’t help but feel nostalgic, leaning your head against her shoulder.

“This feels familiar, doesn’t it?” you ask softly.

Natasha hums in agreement and nods against you, responding, “Last time we danced like this, we decided to be a couple.” 

You chuckle at the memory, reminiscing about how clueless you were back then, never imagining how things would turn out for the two of you.

The soft music creates a serene atmosphere, cocooning you and Natasha in your own world, away from everyone else.

Recalling the details of your original agreement, you meet Natasha’s eyes, a mischievous glint dancing in your gaze.

“You know, according to our deal, our fake relationship is supposed to end after your coronation tomorrow,” you point out.

Natasha raises an intrigued eyebrow, curious about your intentions.

“So, what should we do about that then?” she asks, her tone playful.

You tilt your head, pretending to ponder before flashing her a teasing smirk.

“Didn’t we agree that if anything were to happen between us, it would be the princess who confessed her feelings first?”

Understanding dawns on Natasha’s face, and she grins in agreement, a fond smile playing on her lips. 

“Y/n,” she begins softly, her gaze filled with affection. “From the moment I met you, I knew you were amazing…then I learned that you were really stubborn.” 

You roll your eyes at her teasing, but Natasha just chuckles before continuing. 

“But you're also kind and smart. And truly the strongest person I know.”

She leans in closer, her breath mingling with yours. 

“My heart and my life have always been yours, Y/n.”

You feel warmth spreading through your chest at her confession, and you can’t help but cup her face gently with your hands.

“You’re my best friend,” Natasha continues, her voice barely above a whisper as she covers your hand with hers. “But I would be honored if you are willing to have me as more than that.”

Your heart swells with love, and you nod happily as you respond.

"I want that too, Natasha," you whisper sincerely. “I want to continue to stay by your side and be yours too. Always.”

With those words of promise, Natasha closes the distance between you, her lips meeting yours in a tender kiss.

The sound of cheers and applause surrounds you, but you pay no mind, lost in the moment with Natasha.

You don’t know what the future holds, but you’re not afraid. As long as you’re together, you know you can overcome anything that comes your way.

~~~~~~~ ⧗ ~~~~~~~

Epilogue

In another kingdom, far away, inside one of the workshops of the castle, the king’s assistant waits patiently by the doorway for a pause in the king’s pastime of tinkering.

“What’s the matter, Jarvis?” Tony Stark asks without looking up from his careful concentration.

“A letter arrived for you, sir.” 

“Is it about the next shipment of parts?”

“No, sir, this came from a nobleman in the Romanov Kingdom.”

“Oh…you can just toss it in the fire then.”

There’s an awkward silence as his assistant makes no move to do as he asked, causing Tony to glance up in question.

The assistant hesitates before explaining.

“Counselor Potts strongly advised us not to do that anymore, under the warning of severe punishment should she find out. Also, the messenger stressed that the contents pertain to an urgent matter.”

Tony stops and furrows his brow. After the war and the deaths of his whole family, he preferred to keep contact between the kingdoms to a minimum. Just because there’s a peace treaty between them doesn’t mean he has to like or care about anyone there.

On the other hand, facing the wrath of his most trusted advisor for ignoring this letter is not something he wants to deal with in the foreseeable future.

“Just leave it on the table then,” he sighs with a roll of his eyes. 

If anything, it’s probably more news about the coronation of their upcoming queen. He’s already sent his decline to attend the event and a decent enough congratulations present that Pepper picked out.

He doesn’t understand why they can’t just keep the indifferent relationship between the two kingdoms as is instead trying to make them into something closer.

Shaking his head as Jarvis closes the door behind him, Tony attempts to return to his flow of concentration, picking up his tools as he continues to tinker with the parts in front of him. 

Unfortunately, as time passes, his eyes keep glancing at the letter sitting in the corner, something about it gives him some sort of unnerving feeling. 

Slumping with a resigned sigh that he can’t keep his focus anymore, he places his tools down again and swipes at the letter, sitting at the edge of the table.

Opening it, he skims the contents quickly before his posture suddenly straightens with tension, his expression turning serious.

The door of the workshop slams open, and Tony strides out purposefully, calling to his assistant.

“Jarvis!”

They are at his side in an instant, following him and listening for the next orders.

“Tell Vision to prepare the carriages and let Pepper know I’ll be away a bit for some business.”

“Yes, sir. May I ask where you will be traveling to?”

“The Romanov Kingdom,” Tony answers, glancing at the letter in his hand before tightening his fist, crumpling the paper slightly.

“Looks like it’s time to pay this new queen a visit after all.”

~~~~~~~ ⧗ ~~~~~~~

Series Masterlist : Boundless Devotion

a/n: Thank you to everyone for reading all the way to the end of this series! (especially this long chapter) It's been a journey, and I'm happy that many of you enjoyed it and showed up for every update (all of your comments and reactions are so sweet and fun to read and honestly helped to keep me motivated).

This is the final part of the series, but it's not the end yet. There will be a sequel for Boundless Devotion, and it's called Everlasting Devotion (title mention in prequel Fateful Encounter 🤗).

I’m still in the middle of working on it, so the first chapter is not going to be released right away since I also want to finish some other one shots that I‘ve been working on and maybe take a little break.

That being said, for those currently in the taglist for Boundless Devotion and anyone else who's interested, if you also want to be added in the taglist for when the sequel starts, please let me know. (I prefer to ask again just in case instead of just assuming and forcing you along on another series that you didn't sign up for)

Again, thank you to all of you for reading!

Taglist: @lightwhoranoutoflight, @taliiiaasteria, @romanoffprentiss, @canvascoloredin,  @silentwolfsstuff, @blacklightsposts, @arcturusseer, @presser24, @dvrkhcld, @jujuu23, @screechcat, @vivs46, @cd-4848, @youneversawmehereooooooo, @pancakefan7529, @confusedspaceotter, @natbelovasblog, @izzy-b09, @iamheartless, @mrsrushman, @fxckmiup, @natty-taffy, @2silverchain, @traveler-at-heart, @autorasexy, @natsxwife, @mviswidow, @slut4johansson, @automaticdinosaurtaco, @jono723, @mousetheorist, @tofu9162, @natsbiggestfan1, @iheartjohansson, @nothanksbye07, @midastouch013, @dvrkhcld, @red1culous

[potato-lord-but-not]

idk if it's unpopular or just nobody's considered the concept or maybe i am just too fond of medical knowledge but one of my takes is, if Arthur remains blind when John gets his own body his left hand to the elbow and right foot that John used to control are somewhat numb. It's a lot like when your legs fall asleep, a warm cold feeling, but no pinpricks and you can move them but not as coordinated or presise. More important to note however is this means if Arthur gets hurt in these places it is incredibly hard to notice, any should be pain is far away and feels like vague pressure. It seems and likely seemed small. There is a good chance Arthur would not even bring it up because he thought in a couple days that turned into weeks that maybe he was imagining or it'd go away on its own, but like leprosy thats how it does the most damage. And of course being blind doesn't help and it starts becoming scary. In the right time of year or being on the job, most people who don't experience pain rely on the sight of blood, a bruise, something visual, but how do you know youre bleeding if it feels no different from the sweat that drips down your neck and back? And if youre wearing particularly dark colors how many strangers are likely to notice if your sock takes on a red hue before you notice a squelch when you step? Just like his eyes if Arthur even went to a doctor, coaxed into entering an office and being patronized for a lack of symptoms the most likely conclusion would be Psychosomatic. If he's lucky told stress, but more likely that it's all in his head (ironic in a way, yeah that thing in his head was named John and likely the one who brought him here but hes not in there now is he?). But even if thats the issue being in your head doesn't mean you don't get bruises, cuts and scrapes. It means you don't stop putting weight on a foot when you step on an nail and it pierces far beyond the sole of your shoe. It means you might not notice a cut on your arm has become infected until you come down with a fever and the only thing you can say to explain yourself is "It didn't feel painful. I thought i was managing." the second half of that statement feeling like a lie because if anything you were drowning the moment you realized you could spend all day walking around and have no idea you were injured. It means at the end of the day even if you didnt want to be a bother, there is such a heavy comfort in someone rolling up your sleeve and making sure if anything is there that its cleaned, and bandaged. And maybe its also a comfort for them to grab that same hand and give a slow deliberate squeeze that your can't reciprocate but you can feel it, and know that one isnt hurting you. Anyways im rambling that's it thats the concept take notes, im telling you there is so much potential here. Im so normal about this concept

good lord absolutely no notes just everyone read this

[castiwls]

I love you, period .ᐟ

Paring; art x reader

Synopsis; periods sucked. they sucked even more when your boyfriend happened to be away

Notes; writing this as i suffered from cramps was an experience (I need a boyfriend)

Masterlist

The blinking red of the clock was almost mocking. The red colour of the number is ironic almost as you lay there curled up in the only position which seemed to offer some semblance of relief from the relentless stabbing feeling in your stomach.

Art had joked once that you could open a pharmacy with the amount of medication in your drawers and you’d simply rolled your eyes before throwing your pillow at him but now you were wishing you actually did have a pharmacy in your room.

You’d tried everything. Boxes of painkillers, heat pads and hot water bottles (sometimes together), hell you’d even resorted to breathing exercises yet the pain would not pass. 

Art had called only a few hours ago - something which felt like a lifetime to you now. You were pretty sure he was spending more time on the phone with you than he was practising for the tournament he’d left go away for and the selfish part of you was glad.

Of course, he’d get dragged away to another college the weekend your body decided to turn against you. Just your luck! He’d felt bad, horrible almost when you’d called this morning almost in tears after waking up to the cramp in your stomach and the overall disgusting feeling which came with your period.

He’d almost got on the first bus back before you’d reassured him that you’d be okay. Though neither of you really believed that statement. Even three hours away he was still somehow managing to continue being overprotective and doting in a way which left a smile on your face even as you wanted the ground to swallow you whole.

“Make sure you take the painkillers on time.”

“Eat and drink so you don’t feel sick - oh I left cash in your draw for snacks!”

Words couldn’t describe how grateful you were yet as much as you enjoyed the calls you still wanted him with you. 

The red numbers flashed 3:01 am as you rolled over, wincing slightly at the movement before taking a breath. You could call him. He’d pick up you knew he would. But you also knew he had a game at the moment and the last thing you wanted was to make him too tired to play. 

Before you could stop yourself you were reaching for your phone and finding his contact. Just talking wasn't what you wanted - all you wanted was to melt into his hold and try and forget about the pain in your abdomen.

Maybe you should get one of his hoodies - scratch that you were definitely stealing one for this reason when he got back.

“Hello?” His voice was thick with sleep and a pang of guilt shot through you. You’d woken him up. “Baby? You okay?” Art sounded slightly more awake now as he heard your shaky breathing down the line. 

You silently cursed yourself as tears began to swim in your vision - your hormones really were fucked. “I shouldn’t have called.” You shook your head wiping at your eyes. Art sighed rubbing a palm over his eyes. “No. No, you’re okay. It’s okay I don’t mind.” He soothed rolling over to check the time. “I need to get up soon anyway. Needa be on the court for 5.” 

You winced slightly at the idea - you really thought he was torturing himself sometimes when it came to his training. “Have you slept at all?” 

You shook your head before remembering that he couldn’t actually see you and murmured a small. “No.”

Art sighed sitting against his headboard as he pursed his lips in thought. He had a good idea of how to get you to sleep - though it would be easier in person.

“I need you to do something for me okay?”

PAGE BREAK

You couldn’t remember falling asleep. All you knew was that one moment you were talking about your plans for the next day and Art’s match and the next moment the sun was up and the call was ended. 

The pain had subsided a little but you still felt miserable. You were sore and tired and just wanted your boyfriend back. He’d done everything he could last night even when he’d had a busy day coming up.

“I’m gonna be playing all day but I’ll call you on Sunday alright? I’ll text when I can.”

You’d texted him once to say you were feeling better but other than that you'd left him alone. You’d been enough of a pain last night and the last thing your hormone-addled brain needed was the thought that you were annoying him.

The movie you’d settled on after finding every blanket you owned and gathered all your chocolate was working slightly to distract you yet time seemed to be moving at a snail's pace. Every time you’d checked what had felt like 5 hours had max been 10 minutes and you’d long since given up hope that Art would call.

It was just you, your blankets, the hot water bottle, and all the snacks you could think of to distract yourself from the pain still stirring in your stomach and your boyfriend's absence. Falling asleep had done nothing but make you miss him even more than before.

The thought of your phone ringing was the only thing that kept you sane.

PAGE BREAK

Thump

“Shit…” 

Your eyes slowly open, and you take a moment to adjust to the darkness that is now in your dorm. When did you fall asleep and who was in your room? You frown at the wall for a moment before your eyes widen. 

You only gave one person a key to your dorm.

Faster than you’d moved all weekend you turn over a smile pulling at your lips as your eyes land on your boyfriend smiling sheepishly from by your desk. “I didn’t mean to wake you.” Art murmured kicking his tennis bag to the side.

“You're back early.” Your voice broke slightly as the onslaught of emotions you’d been holding in all week seemed to finally topple over as the relief of finally having him back hit. 

Art turned in alarm at the sound of your breath hitching his hoodie being discarded onto the floor as he moved closer to your bed. “Hey. Hey, it’s okay.” His hand smoothed down your hair a small smile pulling at his lips as he looked you over. “Why are you crying?” He couldn’t help the small laugh that seemed to escape his lips as you sat up immediately crowding into his space. 

“Missed you.” You sniffled feeling his arms wrap around you as he pulled you into his lap. “I missed you too.” He hummed rubbing a hand over your back. He’d taken the first bus back the minute his match had ended. He’d barely been able to focus on the match knowing that you’d probably been staring at your phone hiding away in your room by yourself. The idea alone made his heart hurt.

“C’mon.” Art gently shifted you back to the bed before standing. He sent you a reassuring smile before quickly stripping out of his hoodie and pants and climbing back into your bed. The moment he was in reach your fingers curled around his arm before shifting closer until you were pressed right against him.

A small sigh of contentment left your lips as you shifted slightly to lay your head on his chest, your fingers tracing shapes over his chest as you finally relaxed. “You feeling any better?” He asked after a moment. His voice was quiet as he pressed his lips to your head for a moment as his fingers ran over your shoulder.

“A little.” Your lips pressed against his shoulder for a moment as you breathed in the lingering scent of aftershave which always seemed to stick to his skin. Art’s hand travelled to your hair his fingers tangling into the strands as he left himself relax knowing that you were at least content again.

He made a mental note to go to the store first thing and buy you anything and everything you wanted as an apology for leaving you alone. 

Next time you were coming with him.

[imtryingbuck]

Happy Ending?

~ gif not mine credit to owner ~

Pairing: Steve Rogers x fem!Reader, Future Bucky x fem!Reader

Summary: Reader dates Steve but he’s not a good boyfriend

Word count: 967

Warnings: Angst. Steve not being a good boyfriend, low self-esteem, no smut but smut? Idk I’m sorry. Self-body hating – plus size reader.

A/n: pt 2&3 will be on Bucky’s masterlist

Masterlist

Part 1 / Part 2 / Part 3

You see the love of your life kissing Natasha. Then in the car she jokes about it being his first kiss in 70 years, he doesn’t correct her of course he doesn’t otherwise he’ll have to tell her he’s dating you. For the past 6 months. He tells you that it meant nothing and that they had to do it so they didn’t blow their cover. He takes you to bed has you on all fours and as he’s nearing his release, he says Natasha. You cry and he doesn’t notice.

You’re sitting in the backseat of the car next to Bucky Barnes, having to see the love of your life kissing the next best thing he’s going to get to Peggy Carter, her niece Sharon. You can’t say anything though as nobody knows you two are dating, still. He tells you it’s for your own safety but you know it’s not for that reason. You know he’s embarrassed of you, you’re not skinny. You’re fat. Overweight. Plus-size. However you want to put it you’re not skinny. You’re not perfect like Natasha or Sharon or any other woman he could have. He tells you he loves you in a whisper. He kisses you behind closed doors. Hell he doesn’t even touch you in-front of anyone. Yet you stay with him because you love him. 

Later that night he tells you he loves you and only you. You believe it. Your face gets pushed into the pillow, arse in the air and like last time as he’s about to get his release it’s not your name nor Natasha’s that slips past his pretty lips it’s Sharon’s. You cry, again.

You stay silent about the pain he keeps causing you because you are so afraid of being alone, so desperate to be loved by him or anybody for that matter. All you want is real love but you’re too scared to leave. The worst part is even Steve knows this. He knows how much you love him, and he knows himself that he could never love you, not really love you.

A few months goes by, and everything has calmed down so you decide to take him to meet your parents for the first time. He’s so nervous it’s actually cute. He meets your parents, brother and sister. Dinner goes by smoothly, Steve talks to your dad and brother about everything and anything whilst you’re in the kitchen talking to your mum and sister about how much of an amazing guy he is, how much you love him and how happy you are. Your mum tells you you’re absolutely glowing. The night comes to an end you’re sitting in the passenger seat eyes going from him to the stars in the sky, your happy for the first time in months. You both get home, and he tells you how incredible you are, says he wants to make love to you so you let him. Before you know it he flips you onto your hands and knees face being shoved into the fluffy pillows, your brains working overtime wondering which name is going to make its way out of his mouth. Your whole body is hurting because of how rough he’s being with you, your head hurts and your poor stupid heart is breaking all over again as he empties all his worth inside of you while the name he’s keep chanting like a prayer is that of your sister.

How you manage to do it is lost on you, but you push him off of you with what little strength you have left and make a beeline straight to the bathroom locking the door as quickly as you can, you stumble to the toilet in time to empty the contents out of your stomach. In the mist of being sick and crying you hear Steve pounding on the door pleading with you to let him in asking if he’s hurt you. Asking ‘what did I do wrong’ which is ironic as that’s the same question you’ve repeatedly asked yourself. You hug the toilet trying to get some kind of warmth from it.

But it doesn’t happen.

You fall asleep naked, face covered in tears on the cold bathroom floor. Steve falls asleep on the bedroom floor against the door.

The next morning you wake up sore with Steve knocking on the door telling you he has to leave on an important mission that he loves you and when he gets back you both can talk about why you ran off hiding in the bathroom. You remain stuck to the floor long after he’s left. 

You know you can’t keep doing this, going through the pain, blaming yourself for not being good enough for him. ‘You need to stop being scared of being alone’ you told yourself and finally after nearly a year of crying yourself to sleep every night you pick yourself off the tiled flooring and with timid steps you head into the bedroom. As you pack all your stuff into suitcases and bags you thought you’d be crying whilst doing this but no tears have made an appearance, you’re completely numb and done with everything. Walking around the apartment taking your things as you go you head to the front door and like a naive silly girl you’re arguing with yourself to put your stuff back and just wait for the love of your life to come home. ‘He loves you idiot’ even though you know it not to be true and with that and your broken heart you take a look around visibly seeing the good times that took place within those four walls, you walk out of the door and into the cold December morning.

You thought he was going to be your happy ending.

~ banners credit goes to @sweetpeapod ~

[neocrias]

Two worlds apart

synopsis: After having some strange dreams about other dimensions, you take off on a journey to explore the nearby forest. What you hadn't expected was falling asleep next to a fairy circle and waking up to a very peculiar - and handsome - nymph close to you.

pairings: jun x reader

wc: 6k

aus: sweet as possible; star-crossed lovers

warnings: cursing; reader is referred to as a girl

Light...There's so much light. And a breeze, too. So soft, passing through your hair. Everything is so calm and apparentely good, but there's something missing and a strange feeling in your chest rises as you take a deep breath. Finally, a heat covers the light from where you laid, and all you can see is the pair of rosy cheeks, plump lips and a glowing skin hovering on top of you. That's when your heart fills up entirely: there's nothing to miss now. He's here.

You stand up in a hurry, feeling your heart pounding as a droplet of sweat runs down your temple. Your hand runs to your chest, sensing it rising and falling rapidly as you scan the dark room around you, getting each second more familiar with the well-known bedroom.

– Not this again… – You run your hands over your face, trying to recover from the fright that the dream so realistically gave you. An emptiness spreads through your body as quickly as the cold night and the small cottage seems smaller than it ever was. You look around, your eyes getting used to the darkness as the silhouettes of the furniture become clearer. – I need water.

You get up, looking for the simple kitchen beyond the walls of the small room. The ancient wood creaking under your feet as you tried vehemently to ignore the involuntary pain in your heart. Why do I always feel so bad after these dreams?

Why do I miss so much something that I don't know what is?

The water you were pouring into your glass almost overflows in the midst of your drowsiness and agitated state of mind, causing you to take a few steps back. Your head lifts again to the kitchen sink, looking beyond it and through the window that surrounded it. The impression of seeing a bright light amidst the darkness of the forest startles you for a few seconds, but the vision soon dissipates, leaving only a darkness too frightening to stare at for long. "Enough, this has to stop."

–And how's life as a reclusive hermit? – Ahrin, your best friend, asks over the phone, her voice slightly shaken by the audio.

– I don't know… I guess normal. – You answer, monotonously, popping another snack into your mouth as you absent-mindedly watch the TV on some uninteresting channel. – To tell you the truth, I've been having some strange dreams. I don't know if they're memories of when I used to come here as a child, but they always make me feel a bit sentimental.

– Girl… what if you're being haunted by your dead grandmother? What if she doesn't want you there? – Ahrin's voice is laced with humor and you let out a muffled laugh.

– I guess if my grandmother didn't want me here she wouldn't have left me this cottage in her will, would she? – You scoff, rolling your eyes.

– Yeah, so I think you're going crazy with the solitude and all the bush and forest around you. – She concludes. – “The Shining” ass type of thing. Please don't kill your wife and child.

– It's always so comforting to talk to you, Ahrin. – You ironize with a scoff. – I don't know… these dreams have been disturbing me too much, I always wake up with the feeling that something is missing. It's like I'm suffering. Ahrin, do you believe in…

But a loud noise suddenly interrupts you, making you look straight at the bookcase behind the television.

– Y/n…? Are you still there?

– I'll call you back, Ahrin. – You answer, hanging up. Getting up, you notice that a book from the last shelf has fallen onto the cottage's shag carpet, and you roll your eyes at yet another of the strange occurrences this house has provided you with.

Your life in the city used to be very stressful. The exhausting routine of working for a large company took all your time. And that's why, when your distant and reclusive grandmother passed away, leaving you the cottage where she had lived for most of her life as her only inheritance, you thought it was a great idea to take a few months off for yourself, quitting your job and living off small savings while taking some time to rebuild your life bit by bit.

However, life in isolation in the small cottage on the edge of the forest also had some stresses on a psychological level. At first, everything seemed perfect, but over time, constant signs began to terrify you: things falling, doors and windows opening and the repeated dreams - every night, they revealed themselves to you as something new, comforting you among the lights and breezes, until you spotted that mysterious figure with an undefined face and woke up, panting and with a feeling of enormous emptiness. Of course you tried to rationalize these events, but you couldn't help letting your superstitious mind take you to darker places, and at times you could swear you were being haunted by some kind of ghost or otherworldly creature.

Life without people was also a challenge: although you hated the crowded spaces of the city, and always refused to go out to big parties or restaurants full of people, being absolutely sure that you would love being able to be alone for a few months in the chalet, now this reality was turning against you, and the loneliness was starting to show. Talking to yourself was good, and a very common habit of yours, but sometimes you felt like you really needed someone by your side to listen to you, if only for a few moments. The loneliness was so widespread that last week you found an injured bird in your yard and didn't think twice about naming it, caring for it for days and crying tears when you had to return it to the wild. "I could have kept it a little longer."

Putting away your daydreams, you stood to pick up the book and return it to its original place, but something about the title startles you, giving you a very strange feeling: Fairies and Other Magical Beings, the letters say in spaced golden graphs across the thick green velvet cover.

As you looked at the book, a scene flashed through your mind.

– Grandma, what are fairies? – You asked as you looked curiously at the book on the top of the shelf. Your feet stretched as far as they could towards the curious artifact, but you still couldn't reach it.

– Ah, dear, fairies are very interesting creatures. They live in the forest and are very tiny. – Your grandmother's rough hand ran through your hair, messing it up a little. – But don't confuse them with the nymphs: they also live in the forest, but they are responsible for the elements of nature. There are the water nymphs, like the ondines, the air nymphs, like the sylphs…

– And the sylphs live in the forest behind your house! – You asked, excited by the subject.

– Of course they do. – Your grandmother's smile gradually grew, forming wrinkles around her eyes.

A shiver ran down your spine as you remembered this moment that had been stored in the back of your mind for so long. Your grandmother's smile, always a symbol of sweetness and affection for you, took on a sinister air of mystery as you remembered that day - as if she knew something you didn't, and was proud of it.

You shake the thoughts away, staring at the book in your hands for a while before opening it and scanning the chapters fiercely. Fairies. Sylphs. Elves. Elementals. Forests. Potions. Circles. Magic.

– Shit, am I being haunted by a… fairy?

– Okay, recap this for me, please… Do you think you have a fairy living with you? – Ahrin's voice resounded with laughter through the cell phone line.

– Yeah… A nymph, to be precise. – You answer, focused on carefully removing the fragrant apple pie from the oven. – They live in places like this, isolated forests. It's quite common, in fact, for people to see these apparitions in rural towns, really. Just google it.

– Yeah, yeah, it's all the same. Girl, are you okay? Do you want me to come and visit you? – Ahrin asks, starting to sound a little more worried and cautious. You roll your eyes at your friend's tone, knowing that you really were sounding a bit crazy with all that talk of magical creatures. For a few moments, you regret having told anyone about these daydreams: maybe you really were going mad because of the solitude in the cottage. Maybe that warm pie in your hands was another sign that you were crazy.

Thinking to yourself, you roll your eyes, frustrated at having let yourself go so far.

– Actually, there is a slight difference, but I won't bother you with that. – You finally reply. – I have to go, I'm busy in the kitchen.

With an “okay, bye” rather suspicious, Ahrin hangs up the call, and all that's left is the tortuous silence and the incredible smell of your baking. Tempted to eat the pie, you control yourself, leaving it cautiously on the small kitchen table.

– Now let's see if I'm right or going completely mad. – You whisper to yourself, staring at the pie with your arms crossed and a sudden, strange feeling that you're being watched.

Shrugging, you walk to the bedroom, ready to sort out some things on your laptop.

– No. fucking. way. – The words come slowly out of your mouth. – So it's true.

The half-empty pie tin stares at you with overwhelming irony. The leftover pieces of pie, cut in an imprecise and rounded way, no longer looked as tasty and lively as they did when they were first taken out of the oven: now, they looked almost stale. And absolutely devoured, in your own home, by someone who hadn't been you. But that was the least of it, of course.

You run to the bookshelf in the living room, placing your hands on the famous greenish book, endlessly searching through its pages without any kind of calm or order, almost making a few tears in the process.

“Fairies and nymphs usually accept gifts from humans, as long as they have been left willingly. Some of their favorites are baskets of fresh fruit, freshly-baked pies, pretty flowers or nectar juices. Be careful, though, because once a food or drink is touched by a magical creature, its fruitful and vital energy is taken away, and the food will no longer do anyone any good. Never consume the remains of a fairy or nymph.”

Your eyes go from the book to the rotten-looking pie, making you frown a little. You decide that the best thing you can do now is throw the pie away, being careful not to touch it any more than necessary.

Okay. Now you know what's been plaguing you for the last few months, but how do you stop it? How do you stop the dreams and get that crazy nymph out of your cottage?

“A good way to communicate with the fairies is to go to the places where they live: forests, fields and flowerbeds are good examples. Leaving offerings such as those mentioned above can arouse gratitude in these little creatures, thus guaranteeing you friends and companions who can help you when needed.”

– Good. – You sighed, dropping the book on the nearest table as you prepared in the kitchen to fill a basket with all the fruit, flowers and baked goods you could find in the little cottage. – Now I have to go into the middle of the forest to feed these creatures in exchange for a little peace. It's the height of it.

You looked up unconsciously, as if asking some greater force to help you. With the cloudy, cold weather outside, the urge to stay at home was great: but you had to do it. If it was going to guarantee you at least one peaceful night's sleep, without those strange dreams and the feeling of loss, then it was worth it.

A shiver ran down your spine as you surveyed the empty cottage one last time before closing the front door behind you.

The book, still open on the table, illustrated a very important last paragraph, which your haste had prevented you from reading:

“Be very careful with fairy circles. In dense woods or forests, it is common to find mushrooms planted in a circular shape, almost on purpose. These are actually powerful portals to the world of fairies and nymphs: and as tempting as it may seem to travel to another dimension, the ethereal world of nymphs holds far more magic than a human heart can bear. Never enter a fairy circle.”

You don't know exactly how many minutes have passed since you entered the dense forest, but the thin mist doesn't leave you much sunlight to guide you. It's the first time since you moved into the cottage that you've risked walking alone through the forest which, despite being isolated, still seemed full of dangers. You vaguely remembered walking among these same trees in early childhood, but you understood that a child's mind finds these natural mysteries much more enchanting than the troubled mind of a lonely young adult.

The cold wasn't tearing, but it was a little uncomfortable. The warmth permeated your skin without burning, but left an ominous reminder that it was all around you, and the air you inhaled went deep into your lungs.

You didn't have to go that far to deliver a basket to a bunch of hypothetical nymphs, but you wanted to make sure you wouldn't be bothered by any more strange beings - whatever they might be. So, when you reach a clearing after a long walk, you decide that's where you're going to stop and sit down to rest for a while.

– Okay, here are the fruits. – You grumble, holding out the basket to the empty space in front of you. – They're not very fresh, because it's not the season, but…

You shrug, feeling a sudden tiredness take over your body.

– Now, please, please, – you plead, putting your hands together in prayer. – Take these strange dreams away from me. I can't stand it any longer. There's something, here, – and your index finger travels to your chest, pressing lightly – that hurts every time I wake up.

But before you could complain any more about how uncomfortable it was, your eyes began to get heavier and heavier, along with your limbs. Of course, your rational side wouldn't let you sleep in the middle of the forest, but it didn't seem to be working, as if there was some kind of trance moving you towards it. Yes, leaning a little and lying down on the damp grass seemed the right thing to do. Naturally, that forest was calling you, and you could swear you heard a soft voice moaning some kind of deep incantation, guiding you as your eyes closed softly. And just like that, you fell asleep.

Without even realizing how many mushrooms surrounded you.

Light… lots of light. And sparkles through the light green trees, as if everything was shimmering. The slight rustle of leaves above you calmed you down. Everything seemed perfect, even the slight warmth of the sunlight above. It's when your eyes open a little wider that this light is dimmed, and all you can see are rosy cheeks and plump lips, hovering above you as your heartbeat increases.

"It's happening again, another one of those dreams that messes with me,” you think.

But as soon as you blink your eyes hard, hoping to wake up, you are faced with a new sight as soon as you open them wide: a pair of eyes. Brown. Dark. Deep under the light flutter of curious eyelashes.

You let out an exclamation of surprise and the air around you seems to speed up. The breeze, once calm, becomes desperate along with the pair of eyes above. The leaves around the clearing begin to fly around you and you finally sit down on the ground where you were lying before.

Your eyes search for the person you had never seen before, even though he appeared in all your dreams with his mysterious and unrevealed face. Your heart beats harder than ever and you bring one of your hands to your chest to try to stop the feeling that closes your throat.

But there was no one in the clearing apart from you - and, of course, the leaves flying wildly around you.

– I think she can see me. – A sweet, unsure voice practically whispers next to you, but there's no owner for that familiar yet distinctive sound.

– Stop being a coward, Jun. – A second voice joins the conversation, a little harsher. Your eyes scan the clearing, but there's no one there. A sense of dread runs through your body, chills running up your spine as you feel your head getting more and more airborne and your blood freezing.

– Who's there? – You take the initiative to ask, your voice shaking in the process. The flying of the leaves slows down for a few seconds, limiting itself to a few smoother glides.

– I don't think she can see us now. – The same second voice comments, and you quickly turn in the direction you felt the sound come from. To your surprise, the sudden movement of your torso brings you face to face with a new sight: a man.

You almost scream with shock, but something inside you stops you, and you find yourself completely dazzled by the sight: a young man with fine features, platinum hair and flowing white clothes was watching you carefully, leaning over your figure as you sat on the ground. Your eyes met and you finally understood. It was him. The boy who appeared in your dreams.

The rosy cheeks, the lips. It was all recognizable to you. His face was centimeters apart, but you couldn't feel his breath on you, and for a few seconds it seemed too unreal. Almost as if it was just that - a dream. Translucent and bright.

His eyes flickered in your direction a few times, but you just watched him in silence. For some reason, the apparition didn't disconcert you: on the contrary, you felt calmer than you had in months. Your heart still beats heavily, and something like nervousness didn't leave your chest. Something inside you told you that this was an important moment, but you didn't understand why.

– Who are you?

– You shouldn't be here.

You say in unison. The boy hesitates a little, unsure, and it's almost as if he's afraid to address you.

You look around. The leaves in the clearing have stopped fluttering and the wind no longer blows hard. Now, only a light breeze hung around, caressing your cheeks and hair.

– Where am I? – You asked emphatically, looking out at the unusually bright and ethereal clearing.

– In the realm of the fairies. A place highly unsuitable for humans. – The same harsh voice you heard earlier utters, and a dark figure beside you catches your eye, making you turn to face the new person in the clearing.

Another young man materialized in front of you. This one, also with delicate and beautiful features, but dressed entirely in black, with sharper eyes and a wry smile on his face. You feel like you know him, but you've never seen him before.

– We need to take you back. – The one in front of you says again, in a disappointed tone.

– So you're the ones living in my house? – You ask acquisitively and the two young men exchange guilty glances. The one in white arches his eyebrows, but the one in black just shrugs, unconcerned.

– You're the one who took me there, so… – The black one says, nonchalantly. – And Jun is just plain stupid.

– Sicheng… – The one in white warns, reproaching him.

– Jun… – The other imitates his tone, mocking his friend.

– Jun? – The name escapes your lips before you can think, and it sounds like a question. For a second, the name seemed strangely familiar, but now you couldn't understand where the knowledge came from.

– That'd be me. – He replies, gently, giving you a cautious smile. The young man extends his hand towards you and you accept it. As soon as your hands touch, a warmth spreads through your body and a shiver runs down your spine. There is no roughness in Jun's hand, and his touch is so soft that you hardly feel it.

You finally stand up, coming face to face with the boy. It's only then that you notice a subtle movement behind Jun's back, and you lean a little to see what it is.

Wings. Yes, he's a fairy.

– Air nymph. – Sicheng interrupts your thoughts, waving one of his hands in front of you to snap you out of your trance. – There is a difference.

You're startled - especially at the possibility of that strange being reading your thoughts.

– Sorry, it's involuntary. – He explains himself, again interfering in your thinking. – And also hella funny. – Jun arches his eyebrows at him, incredulous and impatient.

– Let's get you out of here. – Jun gently changes the subject. – Don't worry about him.

– Why do you appear in my dreams? – You pluck up the courage to ask. You didn't want to leave without answers.

Jun's eyes widen and an expression of surprise takes over his face. Sicheng follows him, looking extremely curious about the situation.

– For God's sake, Jun… What have you done? – Sicheng asked, turning to his alleged friend. Your eyes turn to the two boys alternately, trying to get some clue as to what was going on - and what they didn't want to tell you.

– What are you talking about? You were the first to interact directly with her! A human. – And Jun's tone was a mixture of accusation and forced contempt, trying to reproach Sicheng, who was unfazed.

– In my defense, it was her who interacted directly with me.

– I didn't do any of that! – You defend yourself, seeing the two pairs of dark eyes turn in your direction. Sicheng grinned mischievously arching one eyebrow in your direction.

– Are you sure about that, cutie? – He asks, crossing his arms over his chest. You don't lose confidence, but you begin to wonder if you haven't actually interacted with a fairy in recent months, even indirectly.

And only then, paying attention to Sicheng's smug posture, do you realize that he doesn't have a pair of translucent wings floating behind him.

So he's not a nymph…?

– Touché. – He jokes before you can vocalize your feelings. The boy then uncrosses his arms, tilting his head a little before surrounding himself in a black smoke that gradually grew around him. From head to toe, feathers appear on his body as his form shrinks in size.

The transformation before your eyes makes you open your mouth in shock, but it all starts to make a little more sense when the man in front of you takes the form of a bird. And not just any bird: the crow you helped recover from an injury weeks ago.

Sicheng, in his bird form, displays some of his feathers ironically, and you finally understand the familiarity you felt towards him before. A feeling of naivety passes through you, unsettling you a little.

The little crow bends down towards you and, as his last act of cockiness, he takes off into the forest, without waiting for your reaction to his big revelation.

– Show-off. – Jun complains, watching the bird fly away.

– So, what do I do to stop you from haunting my house? – You ask, now alone with the nymph Jun. He turns, giving you a slightly affected look.

– That won't happen again. – He mutters and you can see a slight blush rising to his cheeks. – Now I'm going to get you out of here, come on. I'll explain on the way.

You shrug, and although it didn't seem like the safest thing in the world to walk behind a nymph through a strange, shimmering version of the forest you knew, there didn't seem to be many other options either.

– How did I end up here? – You begin, after a few seconds of silence. Your incessant questions didn't seem to affect Jun, who remained patient and focused on the trail in front of him.

– The fairy circle. – He replied, unapproachable. – The wheel-shaped mushrooms, basically.

– Ah… – You start to remember some of the blurs and how a sudden sleepiness came over you when you entered that part of the forest. – And can't we go back and get out?

– The entrance door is not the same as the exit in the fairy world. –Jun turns and smiles sideways.

Your heart squeezes at the nymph's smile, but you don't understand why. It was the same feeling as always with all those dreams, and you feel the urge to keep asking him questions until you finally understand what strange connection you had with him, or what kind of spell he was putting on you.

You are stopped, however, when you notice the familiarity of the place around you. A small stone path, a garden neatly planted under the blue sky and not interrupted by the green of the dense forest that surrounded it: this was it! Your house! The cottage!

As much as the idea of getting out of that world excited you, something dark flashed across your face in a matter of seconds: if you got home now, you would never have the answer to your questions, and you would never be able to confront Jun about his constant appearances in your dreams.

– We're here. – You exclaim dejectedly. Squinting your eyes slightly, the cottage seems strange. The colors are more vibrant, the paint chips that had faded at the edges of the wooden walls were now impeccably painted, the vines that used to climb up around the house were no longer there, and a soft yellow light was coming from inside the cottage, which emitted a thin smoke from the chimney that you were sure you hadn't left on.

– The fairy world is a parallel dimension to the human world. – Jun begins to explain as he notices your strangeness. – Many things are very similar, even the same, but they are just deformed projections of what you have. They are irreconcilable. – He lowers his head slightly, hiding his face so that you don't see him, but you notice his sad countenance.

– It's strange… Why do I feel like we've already met? – You have the urge to touch him, and the words are out of your mouth before you know it. Jun arches an eyebrow in your direction, waiting for some explanation of what you've just said, but nothing comes. Even you don't understand what's going through your head, and maybe that's just the effect of the shimmering translucence of this perfect, complicated world.

– I've been to your cottage a few times. – He begins, looking embarrassed. Jun takes the lead, walking to go around the house and continue on your way. – It's subtle, but sometimes what we do here in our world can affect yours a little, and vice versa.

– So you were the one who knocked things over! – You exclaim excitedly, picking up your pace to walk alongside Jun. Strangely enough, even the nymph's gait was light, and he often moved and you could barely notice much effort on his part, as if he barely weighted anything.

A shy smile grows on his lips, and he tries yet once again to hide his face from you in a shy manner. Jun scratches the back of his neck, clearly uncomfortable at having been caught, but you're willing to find out more. You lean in his direction, trying to get a glance of his eyes, but Jun just suddenly stops in his tracks, almost bumping into you at the sudden proximity. Looking right into his eyes, and standing so close to the nymph, a strange sensation passes through you, and it's as if you've overlapped the image of a much younger Jun in front of you.

You blink, trying to dispel the strange image, and all that remains are the familiar features of the boy in front of you. A shiver runs down your spine, and suddenly you feel an absolute but unfounded certainty that this was not your first time in the fairy world.

Jun lets out a mirthless laugh, having no idea what had been going on in your mind for the last second, and turns away from you, keeping walking smoothly and determinedly through the bright forest.

– Speaking of which, that pie was great. – The boy murmurs, almost inaudibly, but you hear perfectly. His lips move into a smile, which precedes a laugh.

–I knew I wasn't going crazy! – Jun follows your laughter, seemingly amused by your reaction. – How can you touch things from the human world?

You're curious again, and this time Jun seems a little more willing to answer you.

– As I said, the things here are copies of your world. – He shrugs his shoulders. – If you have a pie there, the pie appears here, especially if you make it with the intention of giving it to a nymph. It takes a bit of energy on our part, but we can access your world a little more easily than the other way around.

You make a sound of confirmation, understanding a little about the boy's explanation.

– Can you… watch us? – You ask, curious. Jun blushes at the implication of your speech, and nods slightly. His confirmation also makes you a little shy, and you begin to wonder how much Jun has seen of you in your daily affairs.

– I didn't mean to scare you. – Jun begins, sounding apologetic. – With the things falling and all. I guess I just ended up being a bit too curious, and clumsy too. I'm sorry.

He lets out a shy laugh and you follow him.

– No problem. – You raise your arm and lightly touch the boy's hand in a gesture of consolation. The touch sends shivers through your body when you come into contact with Jun's soft, delicate skin. Again, an image flashes through your head, along with a very strong sense of longing and tenderness.

All of a sudden, you realize that you can't leave the fairies' world. At least not without the answers you seek.

Jun seems to feel something similar, and slowly walks away, watching your facial expression with his eyes, searching for anything different. He tries to act normal, but it's clear that the spark between the two of you has reached him too, in ways you can't understand.

– Why do I dream about you, Jun? – You ask almost in a whisper. The trees around you have become denser along the way without you noticing, and now the world around you seems darker than it has ever been. The pronunciation of his name on your lips affected him, and you can tell by his wide eyes. The nymph stops in front of you and seems to question whether or not he should answer your question. He hesitates a few times, opening his mouth to speak and then closing it.

A soft breeze circulates, and you feel a little calmer. However, this doesn't stop your heart from beating uncontrollably fast. A dark shadow passes across the sky, startling you and Jun, who swallows dryly.

– I don't know much about human dreams. – He replies at last, focused on looking at the sky.

You realize he's lying, and are ready to question him once again when the same dark shadow passes over you, stopping behind Jun at an impressive speed, transforming into the human version of Sicheng you had met earlier and interrupting the conversation.

– I see you've finally arrived. – Sicheng explains, stopping beside Jun with his calculated gait, but not at all as light and subtle as the nymph's. – The portal to go back.

You squint your eyes, trying to understand what is so special about that dark part of the forest. Sicheng notices your gaze, and moves a little away from the two of you to show you with a wave of his arm something behind the dark trees in a clearing that had gone unnoticed by you.

Tombstones. Rocks. Stone angels. A cemetery.

The image wouldn't terrify you so much in the world you come from, but something about seeing that place right there, hidden in the middle of the forest, surrounded by such a sparkling and beautiful reality was unsettling on an inexplicable level. The pounding in your heart became a strong squeeze and a pain that you couldn't tell where it was coming from.

– A source of life as a gateway. – Sicheng explains. - And a den of death as the exit door. – He clicks his tongue, seemingly displeased by the morbidity of the place.

But you weren't ready to leave yet. You needed to understand what it was you had been feeling for so many months. You needed more time with Jun. You needed to see him and feel again that strange sensation that had been troubling you. You couldn't leave without understanding him.

Why was his presence so familiar? Why did his smile hurt you? Why did your heart beat so fast when he approached? What were you feeling?

– When a nymph loves a human, that person is condemned to a deep connection with them. – Sicheng said, without looking anywhere in particular. – Come on, it's time she knew.

– Sicheng, don't… – Jun warns, and for the first time his voice sounds less soft and more serious.

But the shapeshifter doesn't listen to his colleague and comes dangerously close to you.

– Thoughts, strange physical responses, dreams… – He lists, searching your eyes for every reaction. – That tightness in your chest, you know? All courtesy of our loverboy here. – He points at Jun, who knits his eyebrows together, disturbed.

Your gaze alternates between the two boys, and now they seem a little taller than before. Without you noticing his approach, Sicheng appears at your side and pushes you. He doesn't use enough force to knock you down, but only to make you unbalanced, tumbling to the side and finally into the gloomy clearing of the cemetery.

Just as you stabilize yourself, you're invaded by a sharp headache. The last thing you see around you is the despair in Jun's eyes before the memories flood back.

– My grandmother told me about you… You're a fairy! Look at your wings!

– I'm a nymph, to be precise.

– Ah, it's all the same!

– Actually, there is a slight difference, but I won't bother you with that…

Jun's smile lit up the clearing, and the cemetery no longer seemed as sinister as when you had accidentally wandered into it.

It turns out that childhood comes with a gift: curiosity. And spending the vacations at your grandmother's cottage on the edge of the forest after hearing thousands of stories about magical creatures definitely helped to feed it. When you got lost, you cried desperately, but you didn't expect another boy to appear: a boy with wings and a kind smile.

– Can we be friends? – You asked, raising your pinky finger towards Jun. He didn't seem to understand exactly what you meant, so you gently brought his hand up to yours, showing him how to cross fingers together. – There, now we'll be friends forever!

The memory causes a tear to involuntarily run down his cheek, and Jun seems to understand exactly what was going through your head, because his gaze goes exactly to the gravestone where you first met, more than ten years ago.

But that wasn't the only memory that flashed before his eyes.

– And then he broke up with me! – You finished explaining the story to Jun, who nodded calmly. You hid your head a little more between Jun's outstretched legs in the forest grass, feeling him stroke your hair with the greatest delicacy in the world while you tried to hide the tears forming in your eyes from him.

Jun placed his hand lightly on your cheek, turning your face so that you were facing him. Lying there on the grass, watching Jun above you and the blue sky that hung imposingly above him, none of your problems in the human world seemed to matter. Only he mattered, and now you understood why, at sixteen, every boyfriend you'd ever had had dumped you: you only had eyes for one.

The nymph leans over you, and the warm touch of the sun is overshadowed by Jun's equally warm closeness. You felt a refreshing breeze around you both, and some fallen leaves circled you in a slow dance in the wind before Jun's lips finally touched yours, transforming the whole world you had known until then into something new and far more beautiful.

The crying was now more aggressive, and you were sobbing. Your hands went to your lips, unable to bear the weight of the memory. In the midst of your confusion, Jun had approached you unbeknownst to you, and rested both hands on your cheeks, wrapping them around it tenderly.

– How could I have forgotten you after so many years? – The thought tortured you. There were so many memories with Jun, at so many different stages of your life, that now it finally made sense to feel the absolute emptiness you had felt over the last few months.

A large part of your life had been erased, but not your love for him.

Jun brought your bodies closer, sticking your foreheads together while he breathed irregularly, his eyes closed. You enjoyed the closeness for a few moments, trying to force your mind never to forget that moment, even though it already seemed to slip through your fingers like sand.

Finally, the nymph sighed deeply and brought your lips together with a ferocity that was unlike his usual delicacy. It was a desperate, thirsty, longing kiss. If you hadn't remembered Jun for all those years, and had still suffered his absence, you couldn't even bear to think how much Jun had had to be alone with the memories of both of you. His hands wrapped around your waist, gluing your bodies together in sync. Your hands squeezed the back of Jun's neck tightly, as if he was going to disappear in that instant and you needed to prevent him from doing it so.

The kiss was something new for you, but at the same time it was painfully familiar, and you could taste his tears between the two of you. Jun finally separated them, still holding you close, squeezing you for fear that you would leave.

– I missed you so much.

– So why did you let me go? Why did you make me forget you?

– I didn't… I…

– Humans and nymphs can't be together, Y/n… – Sicheng interrupted, also entering the cemetery. His words didn't say anything absurd, but you felt them like a knife in your chest.

It didn't matter. It would be different with you two. You and Jun could work together: you were born for each other.

A rebellious feeling overwhelmed you, and you knew that now that you finally had your love back, you wouldn't give it up.

But Jun's taciturn gaze, which never left his face, was affected by his friend's harsh words. You felt that he didn't think the same way as you, and that killed you inside.

– I had to do it. – He whispered so that only you could hear. – I couldn't take you out of your world, and I didn't want you to suffer… The distance helped, but when I realized that you'd gone back to the cottage, and were now living there… I couldn't keep my distance any longer. I was wrong and selfish. I never imagined that you would dream of me.

– No, I don't mind. – You exclaim, full of fervor. Deep down, there's a small part of you that understands that this was the best thing to do for both of you, but you didn't want to let him go for anything, especially not after spending so many years without Jun. – I'm not going back. I want to stay with you.

But Jun just held your trembling hand into his, gently bringing it to his lips and placing a chaste kiss there, without taking his eyes off yours.

– I'll leave you two alone. You know what you have to do. – You heard Sicheng's voice behind Jun, and the young man suddenly turned into a crow, flying away.

– Please. – You beg, letting the tears run free down your cheeks. Jun's grip on your hand tightens and his eyebrows draw together in an expression of deep pain. The nymph nods quietly, very subtly, and you feel your heart grow lighter.

– I love you. – Jun says in an incisive whisper, meeting your eyes in reaffirmation. He moves closer again, planting a kiss on your lips that is much calmer and more restrained than the last one, lingering for a few seconds next to you. – And I need you to live.

A push on your shoulder shoves you away, and you feel yourself fall. Your eyes widen as you take one last look at Jun, noticing the bright tears falling from his eyes, a mixture of guilt and pain

And then, darkness.

Light… there's a lot of light. An uncomfortable, painful, cold light.

– Oh my God! – A voice exclaims as you open your eyes with difficulty, feeling your whole body ache. – She's here!

Sounds of leaves rustling on the ground and flying through the air in a spiral around you wake you up, and the pain of the recent farewell attacks you again.

Two hands find you, gently holding your shoulders. For a few seconds, your heart stops beating in futile hope. When you look ahead, however, it is Ahrin's face that stares back at you in shock.

Your friend begins to cry, hugging you tightly. She drops the lantern she was holding to the ground, leaving the forest around you dark again, but not dark enough for you not to notice the circle of mushrooms surrounding you. The darkness, however, doesn't last long, and many other lantern lights appear, with hooded people approaching the two of you in the midst of the storm that was wetting everything around you.

– What are you doing here? How did you get here so quickly? Who are these people? – You ask, still holding your best friend who is bursting into tears.

– Quickly? Y/n, I haven't been able to talk to you for over two months. You've disappeared.

Your alleged disappearance into the human world had caused quite a stir. Although you had spent little less than a day in the fairy world, time had flown by much faster in your world, and it was only then that you understood why Jun had made such a point of keeping you away, even if it hurt both of you.

Living with him would mean giving up everything you've known so far - which you would do, for him - but God only knows what long-term effects the fairy world would have on a human. At least those were the thoughts that comforted you when you remembered Jun.

Since then, you've never dreamt of him again. Even if you wanted to, and even if you tried. You were afraid of forgetting him again, so you tried to communicate in every way.

– Fine, we'll try again tomorrow… – You huffed, letting your shoulders slump in disappointment as you looked at the dining room table. The apple pie seemed to stare back at you, completely untouched.

[b4mpyre-k1zz3s]

The Jackass Guys Taking Care of You while you’re Sick HCs!

Johnny Knoxville X Fem!Reader, Chris Pontius X Fem!Reader, Steve-O X Fem!Reader, Bam Margera X Fem!Reader, Ryan Dunn X Fem!Reader

Warnings: Mentions of illness, pet names (ie. darlin’), alcohol

An: While writing this, I was actually bed bound for two days to to a nasty respiratory illness, so I think you could guess where my inspiration came from XD Ironically enough, in between writing this and coming out I got sick again. Boy, what an immune system I have! I get sick frequently and one thing I can always count on making me feel better is writing about the guys :)

You had no appetite, you could barely leave your bed, and you had a temperature of 101.9. Yep, with how sick you were, there was no way you’d be able to go to work.

So you called your boyfriend to help take care of you

Johnny

“Oh, darlin’…”

You were in sore shape, and like the amazing boyfriend he was, Johnny went to helping you feel better right away!

Really, he missed his calling as a doctor or nurse with how sweet and considerate he is to you

Helping you out of bed if you’re weak on your feet and to the shower, assuring you how much better you’ll feel after you get a lil’ steam in your system <3

And after you get out, he’d sit behind you and gently comb/brush our hair for you, no matter how many times you mumbled to him that yes, you were sick, but you could take care of your basic needs yourself

But you secretly enjoyed being babied by him

If you couldn’t stomach much, he’d bring you some warm tea and fruit with a kiss on the forehead before he went to set up the humidifier

When Robitussin and NyQuill weren’t making a dent in your fever, Johnny got a little creative,

“If it doesn’t make you better, you’ll forget you were sick in the first place!” He explained, handing you the mug of hot water, lemon, and a splash of bourbon

A hot toddy, he told you it was called, something his mama used to give him when he was sick at home

And that thing worked.

Your eyes were falling close as you murmured, half asleep already,

“Thank you, Dr. Knoxville…”

Bam

“You look like shit.”

Lack of bedside manner aside, he is probably the last person you want taking care of you while you’re sick.

“Well thanks, Bam- I feel like shit.”

Feeling a little bad for you he asked if you needed anything

So you asked for something to eat- maybe soup and warm tea?

But all you received was an uncrustqble (which you bought because bam doesn’t like the crusts on his sandwiches) and a bottle of water lobbed onto your bed from the doorway.

“D’you think you could grab me some tissues too?”

With a groan, Bam disappeared into the bathroom before you heard all this thudding and an exasperated, “Fuck!���

Before he emerged with a roll of toilet paper.

Sure, maybe he wasn’t Florence Nightingale, but he did what you asked and you honestly didn’t even expect this much from him

He mumbled, disticnt affectionate tone in his voice as a smile crept onto his face as he walked by your bedside to ruffle your hair a little,

“You’re a real pain in the ass, Y/N.”

Chris

“Time for your sponge bath!”

Chris is a firm believer in the fact that laughter is the best medicine

So that’s why he walked into your room wearing one of those sexy nurse outfits.

And while you appreciated the sentiment, you didn’t really need the sponge bath

You also didn’t need the rectal thermometer he proudly offered to you,

“Time to take your temperature! Roll over!” He chuckled that sweet stoner laugh of his, “Kidding, kidding- it’s one’a the normal ones.”

Or when Chris pretended to “accidentally” drop said thermometer next to your bed and bend over to pick it up with his ass in full veiw.

Soon, you began to recognize the click clack of cherry red high heels as the sounds of Nurse Pontius,

And you’d come to anticipate his spectacular bedside manner ;)

In fact, this whole ordeal just left you more endeared to him

Yes, even when he asked to warm your boobies up because in his words, they looked really cold.

“You know, your probably the best nurse I’ve ever had.”

Steve-O

“What’s goin’ on?”

He stumbled into your room, having kind of forgotten why you called him,

Steve isn’t so much of a caregiver as he is a heating pad

But damn it if he isn’t a good heating pad

He’d just walk into the room and lay down next to you, all warm and cozy- a heaven for your shivering, sick body

Despite how nice it felt to cling to him, he isn’t much help besides that given the fact he fell asleep five minutes ago (not that you noticed)

“Hey, do you think you could grab me some-“ Yep. Out cold

So you had to tear yourself from the comfort of your bed to make yourself soup

And when you return, all shivering as you slip back under the covers,

Of course that’s when he wakes up.

You had already started eating when Steve took the bowl from where it was resting on your lap to steal a few bites himself

When you pointed out that he just used the same spoon you did (and would probably get sick too), he just shrugged,

“So what? I don’t care.”

Ryan

“Are you dead yet?”

While there was an unmistakeable tone of sarcasm in Ryan’s voice, he really was concerned

Out of all the guys, he would be the one to get worried sick (no pun intended) about his ill girlfriend :(

But he played it off well, saying that he didn’t have anything to do that weekend despite canceling plans with Bam to look over you

So he might as well sit by your bedside to make sure you’re okay!

Or that he just conveniently rented all of your favorite movies because he wanted to watch them, but you’re free to join him if you wanna watch

And, despite your warnings that you’ll get him sick, he’d have no problem with laying down next to you if you can’t sleep

Because that’s what the two of you usually do! No reason to break routine because of a stupid cold.

“C’mon! With you shiverin’ like that, how could I not? It’s like seein’ a kitten out in the rain…”

[streets-in-paradise]

His Weakness - Achilles x (Fem)Reader

Troy (2004) Oneshot

Warnings: Injury, brief description of healing practice.

Summary: Achilles is taking care of you after you injured your heel and the situation iniciates a talk on the legend about his only weakness.

Note: For the medical part, i tried to make it as accurate to the period as possible through what i remember of the descriptions of medicine found in the iliad.

Tags: @zoegarfield

Racing across the landscape of the myrmidons was so much fun, but it could be dangerous for reckless racers that didn't know the grounds as well. Phtia was a rocky territory, but you were so used to run carefreely on your old homeland that you didn't entirely acknowledged the difference. The result was a fall that put end to the amusement as Achilles rushed in aid of you before Patroclus could claim the victory. He felt very bad for challenging you despite the wise advice of his cousin, but you didn't allow the sweet lad to take any guilt.

Pain aside, being carried back by your beloved hero felt very nice. He held you in his arms to ease the scare of the fall and although you tried to play tough for him, it was evident that you had trouble with your left foot and he didn't let you take one more step.

Laying on his bed for further inspection later revealed that the source of stronger pain was a badly bruised heel hurting you whenever you tried to stand up. Used to see way worse in the wounded from battle, he probably knew it was something you would recover from giving healing time to the injury. With proper rest, you would be alright in a week. However, in the meantime you would be in pain and very bored, so he wanted to be the one in charge of making you feel better.

Achilles loved you too much to stand your great discomfort without trying every measures he had available to help to go through it. Keeping you company, playing the lyre to help you relax, or telling you stories while staying in bed with you so you would fall asleep to the sound of his voice and the heat of his body.

Despite you would insist in wanting to do it yourself, he allways ended up applying the wet cloth on the wound and giving you the calming drugs to ease the painfull inflamation. The lovefull respect for your temporary fragility would have shocked anyone among the people who didn't know him for real. Those who used to see him as a fighter beast wouldn't believe their eyes regarding his caregiver performance. His hands knew how to inflict and calm pain giving death or caresses with the same amount of skill.

After finishing the task, he was carefully drying your skin when an ironically cute thought occured to you that you simply couldn't keep to yourself.

" Can you believe that, from all the chances for damage, I had to hurt my heel? " You commented to him. " Now we share a weakness, no one can deny we are meant to be. "

Achilles chuckled and your glances briefly meet.

" Where did you got that from? Didn't you hear they call me the swift-footed? You are mine, but we aren't bonded by the heel. "

" There is a local legend that the myrmidons whisper to each other, a secret they believe to be protecting. " You recalled in a mysterious tone. " Eudorus told me about it, they say that when you were a baby your mother inmersed you in the waters of the river Styx and that made your skin invulnerable to the wounds of bronze. Given that she was supposedly holding you by the heel, this is the only spot of your body that remains mortal and your preference for closed footwear has fed that rumour. "

He should have guessed that it was going to be a matter of time untill you would bring that up.

" Each city you go, they have made up a different idea of what may kill me. " He answered in a mock. " I'm like the minotaur, or the hydra. The fear I inspire forces people to invent mystical ways of feeling in control of their fright. They all believe they have found my weak spot, but nobody trully knows of my true human weakness. "

" Can you please stop comparing yourself to monsters?" You interrupted him. " You frightening, beautifull man. In your hands I feel blessed even in sickness. "

Still delicately holding your exposed leg, he placed a soft kiss in the front of your ankle.

" I'm so weak for you … Can't you tell? " He purred, teasing you. " The messengers of Agamemnon could come ríght now asking me to follow them to war, and I wouldn't leave your side not even if I would be told to be paid with lands and a share of the treasure as big as his. No fighting untill you would be back on your feet, nothing can get me away from you when i know you need me. "

He made you giggle in pure enjoyment of his love.

" Very beautifull, but not compelling for the legends. " You sweetly corrected. " When people invent a hero, they wouldn't expect him to list his lady as his mythical weakness. It's not attractive in symbolic terms. "

Achilles wasn't very concerned about the observation.

" That's why they will never guess it. "

With that, he resumed his playfull kissing in a road going up over the skin of your leg. You could tell he guessed you were starting to feel better, or otherwise he wouldn't have seeked for that sort of intimacy so suddenly.

[kit-williams]

Unintended thoughts

For @egrets-not-regrets and helping me with some background stuff I'm so thankful that smut is an acceptable currency here.

Tag list: @bispecsual @moodymisty @bleedingichorhearts @liar-anubiass-blog

@thevoidscreams @barn-anon @gallifreyianrosearkytiorsusan

and always @squishyowl for the dividers

TW: Male Masterbation

For Erriox it was a purely mechanical need. And just a brief application of force and again a mechanical gesture and normally any unneeded arousal was taken care of. He huffed in annoyance as today that simple and quick method wasn't working for him. Lenora was gone for awhile which left him either taking care of his need or ignoring it.

Just some extra care as Lenora would put it... his calloused hand slick with lotion moves along his cock as he enjoys himself. No real fantasy coming to mind just the feeling of his hand around his own cock... feeling the rough tightness as he lazily pumps his cock through his fist.

He didn't mean to think about Lenora... at first he kept dismissing those thoughts... but just the way she says his name... the slight roll she does with the r's when she says his name a certain way. He closes his eyes as Erriox swallows gathering saliva trying to push the thoughts away.... Lenora was nothing but nice to him... had opened her home to him... and he wasn't going to... to... he groaned softly as he thought about the way her short nails feel against his scalp as she runs her fingers through his salt and pepper hair. Hearing her coo to him asking if he liked that... her nails being too short to catch the scalp scars he has in a painful way.

Curse his mind as it starts to stitch together what he knows about her... he knows how much she weighs and his fist around his cock starts to adjust... and his mouth feels dry yet he knows he is drooling. Lenora wasn't unattractive to Erriox... just he hardly looked at mortals that way... he remembers the sight as he doesn't care why she was jumping but his brain is hyperaware of the way her hair bounced about freely... but also the way her breasts moved under her clothes.

Erriox groans out loud as he lays back spreading his legs as he starts to buck his hips in earnest. The slick noise that his cock and hand together make are a poor substitution for what noise her wet sex would make. Her nails and her own calloused hands against his stomach as she bounces on his cock... the faint blush over her cheeks and breasts as Lenora pants doing her best to ride him. Erriox like most Iron Warriors was stocky so even her own muscled thighs would be spread wide, having to rely more on her hands to help push her up to properly ride him.

He wouldn't let her struggle for long... his hands wrapping around her thighs maybe moving to her ass as he bucks his hips up hearing her gasp loudly as she would stop moving just feeling him thrust deep into her core. "Lenora." Erriox moaned as he squeezed his cock but kept thrusting through it.

He would thrust hard enough for her to have to rest one arm under her breasts as perhaps he was thrusting in a way to cause them to bounce. She would moan his name... mewl it... pant it... it would fall from her lips again and again. Erriox grunts as his bed makes no noise, no betrayal of what he was doing.... "Be good for me and cum on my cock." He lets the words that were suppose to stay in his head slip from his lips.

He imagines she orgasams with his name on his lips... a gasp and Erriox squeezes his cock once more moaning her name as those hot ropes of cum shoot out; being so pent up it seems as some of it hits a scar on his left pectoral. Erriox laid on the bed feeling spent and relief but with some nagging guilt in his stomach and a new need... he cared about Lenora and felt guilty of using her as a source of pleasure but she now was the source of the new need.

Erriox simply hoped she wouldn't fall asleep against him any time soon. He finally got up to clean the mess he made.

[ideas-live-forever]

Hi there 👋 I love your Ken imagines and have a request if you're up for it! What if the reader is sad and Ken sees them crying and he's confused because he's never seen tears before. He tries different things to cheer them up. 💗

Ken Cheering You Up After Crying

hi!! thank you so much for being my first request! your idea is so cute, this was fun to write :)

sorry if it’s a little all over the place, i got a little carried away 😭. let me know if it’s not what you wanted

Ken comes over to your house one day after you’re finished with work for your planned sleepover

You answer the door with a dampened mood, but he brushes it off as you being tired or something

He comes with you into the kitchen to help cook dinner, and notices that you aren’t as prepared as usual

You keep forgetting things, or misreading the recipe

Eventually, Ken caves into his thoughts and asks if you’re okay

To which you immediately start crying

At first he thinks you’re actively dying or something

He’s never seen tears before

Kinda freezes for a minute, just looking at you with fear and pain and love mixed around in his eyes

Stays like that until you apologize 

“I’m sorry-“ You manage to get out between sniffles. “Didn’t mean to start crying.”

“No, no, don’t apologize!” Ken hurries to make up for his lack of immediate confort. “I just don’t know- are you okay? I mean like, does that hurt?”

You notice him pointing at the tears on your cheeks with a curiously gentle look on his face.  It clicks on your head that he might not even have seen tears up to this point. That thought makes you smile a little.

“No, Ken,” You explain. “It’s just a thing people do when they feel strong emotions like sadness. It actually feels kind of good.”

You sniffle a little bit more and wipe your eyes. Once he knows what you mean, a wave of relief hits him. You’re not dying. Then he realizes what you said.

“Wait, you’re sad?” He asks, before noticing how obvious that was. “No, don’t answer that. How can I help you?”

You haven’t really had people ask that before, so you just kinda shrugged 

But Ken didn’t take that for an answer 

He’s immediately trying to think of ways to cheer you up 

The first thing he can think of is asking you what’s wrong

So he brings you out of the kitchen and into the living room where he sits with you on the couch

He watches intently as you talk, interjecting little comments to prove he’s listening

After you’re finished, he gives you a hug and says how proud of you he is for telling him

If you’re still crying at this point, his worry spikes a bit, but he’s determined to help

He all but carrie’s you to your room so you can lay down after a long day

Brings you a glass of water and puts on something for you to watch

Then he disappears for a suspicious amount of time, which is weird, because he’d usually jump right in to cuddle

You actually fall asleep for half an hour or so

Eventually, you hear a squeal from somewhere in your house and get up to investigate

You round the corner of your house into your kitchen where you see Ken standing with your apron on and flour dusted all over his face. He holds out a plate with a waffle on it. It’s still hot, fresh off of the iron. He looks at you with a huge grin and the proudest look on his face.

“I made you dinner.” He states importantly. 

You have to hold in a giggle at that. Not that you wouldn’t eat a waffle for dinner. The poor guy probably didn’t know how to make much else. You smile back at him. All of the effort he’s putting in to help you feel better is really working. 

“Aw, thank you,” You say, reaching for the plate. “You didn’t have to do that.”

Ken shakes his head.

“Of course I did! You were sad. And waffles make me happy, so I’m just kind of hoping you like them too?” He adds the last part with an almost shy tone, blushing a bit.

The kitchen was a huge mess because he lowkey sucks at cooking, but he cleans it as you eat so no worries

Of course you eat the waffle

And he watches you closely, trying to gauge whether or not it’s working

You’ve obviously cheered up a lot, but he refuses to rest until your mood is perfect 

As soon as you finish, he cleans up your plate and then brings you back to your room for cuddles

He wraps his arms around your waist and rests his head on your shoulder, trying to make you as comfortable as possible

He whispers cute little compliments in your ear until you’re both kind of tired

“Are you still sad?” He whispers, nuzzling into your shoulder.

Ken let’s out a yawn, tired from worrying about you all evening. But i’m the moment there is nowhere he’d rather be. He kisses your shoulder lightly as he awaits a response.

“No,” You answer, a small smile playing on your lips. “Thank you so much, by the way. You don’t have to do all that every time I cry you know.”

He lets out a little hum of contemplation at that before he ultimately makes up his mind.

“I know. But a little extra work doesn’t hurt me nearly as much as you hurting does.” He murmurs sleepily, his words a little jumbled

He’s just a loving, sleepy guy

You fall asleep in a better mood then you’ve been in all week

[lanawinterscigarettes]

Take Away the Pain (Remy "Thirteen" Hadley x gn reader)

Summary: your girlfriend takes care of you when you're on your period

Warnings: talk of cramps/mentrual cycles in general, the reader is obviously afab but are gender neutral other than that (shout out to anyone who's a trans guy or nonbinary and gets their period), hurt/comfort

A/N: dedicated to the lovely @bleachxbunny 💕 I hope you feel a little bit better while reading this

Periods were one of the worst things to ever exist, you were sure of it. You always hated people (usually guys, let's be honest) who would make jokes and say it's "not that bad" because they clearly didn't have to wake up to their underwear stained red with blood and their uterus feeling like it was getting stabbed by a red hot iron.

Luckily for you, your girlfriend was a doctor, so she was a lot more understanding than most people. (Not to mention her rather sensitive history with the whole subject of having to watch someone being in pain and not being able to do much about it.) Because of this, she took as best care of you as she could.

The sound of the door unlocking momentarily diverted your attention from the painful shedding of your uterine wall, causing you to lift your head up slightly as you heard her walk in the door.

"Baby, I'm home," she called out as she set down her keys and took off her coat, to which you merely incoherently grumbled in reply before curling back up in your spot.

She made her way over and took a seat beside you on the bed. "How's the pain?" She gently asked, her hand finding its way to your back and gently rubbing the area in hopes of giving you some much needed comfort.

"Mm." The only noise you let out was a soft grunt, one that let her know you weren't in much of a mood for talking right now.

"Wow, that bad, huh?" She frowned slightly while watching the way you laid there in a ball, pressing a heating pad to your lower abdomen with one hand while the other clutched tightly onto the blankets. "Have you taken something for it recently?"

"I don't know... It hurts so bad..." You muttered quietly, lifting your head up again so you could meet the gaze of her green eyes, her brow furrowed in concern as she observed your behavior.

"I'm going to get you something to take for the pain, okay?" Leaning over, she pressed a gentle kiss to your head before getting up. You could hear her rummaging around in the bathroom cabinets for some pain pills before stopping off in the kitchen to grab a bottle of water from the fridge. "Sit up some," she said while holding out two pain pills to you, which you gladly took.

It took you a moment or so, but eventually you were able to sit up at least somewhat, popping the pills into your mouth before using the water she got for you to wash it all down. "Mm... Thank you," you mumbled as you laid back down, not having the energy to stay sitting up for much longer.

"Of course." That same frown from earlier tugged at her lips at the sight of you in so much pain you could barely sit up properly. "Is there anything else I can get for you?"

Thinking for a moment, you responded by reaching your hand out towards her. "Cuddle with me?"

You looked so pathetic, it was hard for her to say no. "If that's what you want." She slipped under the covers and pulled you in close, carefully adjusting the heating pad's position on you before you got too comfortable. "Is that better?"

"Much," came your one word reply as you pressed your face into her neck, your body practically laying on top of hers. "I love you, Remy. Thank you for taking care of me."

Her heart stuttered in her chest at your words. Of course it wasn't complete unheard of for you to call her by her real name, but still, the sincerity in your tone when you spoke hit her like a ton of emotion filled bricks. "I- I love you, too."

You hummed in acknowledgement at her words, enjoying the way her hand was rubbing the sore areas on your back. The action was so soothing, you ended up falling asleep, not that she minded. If you were sleeping, you couldn't be in pain, which is what she wanted.

She watched you for a little bit as you slept before resting her chin on top of your head and drifting off herself. If she could take the pain away forever, she could, but for now this would just have to do.

End notes: I hope this was okay and that you liked it 🫶

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