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tatumrileyslover · 4 months

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You Do It For Her

Capital Don’t Cry (Part Two)

Summary: Sejanus is tasked with mentoring the District Two female tribute, but plot twist :0 they're childhood besties, but it’s part two (the games era)

Pairing: Sejanus Plinth x Fem!District Two!Reader Platonic!Lucy Gray Baird x Reader

Requested: very

Word count: 4.5k

Warnings: it’s the games so murder and shit, Jessup rabies era :/, Angst baby, reader and Lucy gray are besties, I’m such a Lucy Gray girly so she’s super prevalent in this fic, murder, not a whole lot of Sejanus in this, mostly in readers pov with two small pov changes

a/n: I’m so glad so many of you loved the first part, I’m so happy you’ve all been enjoying it, honestly it makes me so happy (also thanks so much for almost 1k on part one), I’ve had to break it into three parts so I’m sorry for making you all wait longer. Comment if you want to be added to the taglist (I also somehow wrote the second half of the entire fic listening to the Wonka soundtrack and it helped but was very worrying)

Part 1 / Part 3

The harsh plastic seat seemed to dig into Sejanus, leaving an uncomfortable impression against his restless form. His blazer, adorned with the emblem of the Capitol, clung to him, its material feeling constricting, almost suffocating. Sleep had eluded him since that haunting moment when he last saw (Y/n), and thoughts of her, intertwined with concerns for Marcus, haunted his every waking hour.

In the buzzing atmosphere of the mentor's area, Lucky Flickerman's enthusiastic attempts to coax smiles out of the mentors for the flashing cameras felt more like an intrusion. The relentless flashes of light assaulted Sejanus's sensitive eyes, forcing him to squint against the intrusive brightness. The whole spectacle seemed detached from the somber reality he was living.

As Coriolanus approached and took the seat beside him, a familiar face in the sea of unfamiliarity, Sejanus couldn't help but find a fragment of solace. The camaraderie, however, did little to dispel the heavy cloud of uncertainty and anxiety that hung over him. Each mentor's forced smile, every attempt to portray an air of confidence, serving to convince everyone that they were certain that their tribute was going to win.

And so, as the photographers continued to capture the glossy facade of Capitol mentorship, Sejanus remained caught between the stark plastic of his seat and the weight of his unresolved fears.

Dean Highbottom, with his sly smirk etched on his sunken face, intercepted Coriolanus, halting him in his tracks. Sejanus strained to catch the words exchanged between them, but the cacophony of the producers' urgent shouts about the imminent commencement of the Games drowned out their conversation. Despite the muffled noise, Sejanus couldn't shake the feeling that his name had been part of that brief exchange. His attention snapped back to the screen in front of him, anxiety intensifying as the countdown to the grim spectacle began.

A feed slowly began to channel through, projected onto the screen was the tributes standing in a circle around the rumble of the arena. Weapons glistened in the centre of the cornucopia, the cameras slowly panned across the tributes as they anxiously awaited the countdown to reach its end. The screen was showing a section of the tributes. Lucy Gray stood looking around with intensity, her eyes drifting around the arena. Sejanus could see her desperately shouting at someone by her side. Her voice was extremely muffled. The camera slowly drifted over to her left, (Y/n) was collapsed on the floor, tears flooding her eyes. Her hands were clasped over her mouth, attempting to stifle her screams, while her glazed eyes were fixed on an unseen point beyond the frame. Lucy Gray desperately tried to shake her out of the trance.

As the countdown reached its final digits, the screen transitioned to its final overview of all the tributes. In the distance, something caught Sejanus's eye, sandwiched between two giant flags of the Capitol. A massive pole protruded near the arena walls, and from it hung a vaguely human form. The sun that beamed into the arena shone what looked like a spotlight through the collapsed roof. Sejanus sprung from his seat, squinting his eyes, focusing on the figure that had distracted him completely from the carnage. The alarm blared as Lucy Gray grabbed (Y/n), rushing towards a tunnel where Jessup awaited them. As the camera angle changed, it showed more of the figure. Sejanus felt his heart drop, rage rushing through his body he threw the chair at the viewing screen. He could contain his anger as he shouted infuriated by the needless display of violence.

"You're monsters! All of you!" Sejanus's voice echoed in the room as he glanced around, faces mostly unfazed. Arachne sat with a sly grin, observing his crumbling exterior. The cameras captured the entire scene, revealing the crucified figure, badly beaten and strung up with no way to defend himself—Marcus.

The deafening ring in her ears competed with the grotesque scene before her as the final cannon fired. (Y/n) forced herself to avert her gaze from Marcus's battered body, only to be met with a horrifying display of brutality. The faces of those she had been forced to live with for a week were now contorted into expressions of ruthless aggression, chasing down anyone unfortunate enough to cross their path. The once-subdued tributes had become brutal beasts, a disturbing metamorphosis fueled by the Capitol's insatiable appetite for bloodsport.

Reeling from the shock, (Y/n) felt a pair of arms encircle her waist, lifting her back onto her feet. Lucy Gray's words were muffled by the persistent ringing in her ears. Shaking off the disorientation, she grasped Lucy Gray's hand, allowing her to guide them toward Jessup, who slumped near the entrance of the tunnels. With urgency, (Y/n) pulled Lucy Gray along, leading her to Jessup's hunched figure. In that moment, she was almost glad the bombs had went off, otherwise she had no idea how to escape the vicious few in the centre of the arena.

Jessup remained almost motionless, his weakened state evident as a consuming fever drained his energy. Glancing back, (Y/n) observed Coral and her group closing in on them, displaying signs of weariness. They most likely seemed like easy targets. Lucy Gray urgently attempted to capture Jessup's attention, guiding him gently toward the safety of the tunnel. Just moments ago, (Y/n) had been paralyzed by shock, saved only by Lucy Gray's presence. As the group closed in on them, panic set in. (Y/n) turned to Lucy Gray, who hadn't made any significant progress in moving Jessup to safety. Throwing his arm over her shoulder, (Y/n) yelled,

"Quickly, help me carry him!" Lucy Gray nodded, mirroring (Y/n)'s actions. Aware of Coral's approaching threat, "They're gaining on us."

The entire sprint through the tunnel was extremely tiring, the adrenaline of being hunted began to fade as the footsteps behind them quietly faded, along with carrying the weight of someone almost twice their size. Jessup was passing in and out of consciousness, and lifting the dead weight of him really slowed the three down. Finding a small passageway inside the tunnel they reached a small space with some water running through it.

"We should rest up here for a while, just while Jessup here come back to," (Y/n) nodded at Lucy Grays statement, helping the half conscious Jessup to the floor, resting his head on her shoulder. (Y/n) tried to scoop some of the water into the palm of her hands and took a sip, it definitely wasn't the cleanest but it would do. Repeating her action she moved over the Lucy Gray,

"Here have some," she softly sipped some out of her hands before urging Jessup to have some. He just pushed her hand away, muttering something. (Y/n) held her now wet hand to his burning forehead. She knew that she couldn't leave him here, but she couldn't see him getting any better. Jessup had been off since they arrived at the zoo, whatever he had come down with, she was afraid it would take him. She knew that Lucy Gray wouldn't dare leave his side, they were in it together, they all were.

She wasn't sure how many hour had passed by since they arrived in their safe place in the tunnel. Jessup had fallen asleep a while back. Both girls agreed someone should stay awake in case of an ambush, (Y/n) agreed to stay up for a while, so Lucy Gray could rest. Everything was silent, occasionally broken up by the soft noise of the trickling water. Jessup was just getting worse, he had broken out in sweat and would thrash around in his sleep. She couldn't tear her eyes away from his form, her heart ached just looking at him. She just hoped he would pass painlessly. A soft yawn broke her gaze, Lucy Gray rubbed her eyes, a soft smile coming across her face.

"Was I out long?" A soft yawn broke (Y/n) out of her intense gaze, Lucy Gray rubbed her eyes, a soft smile coming across her face, "you weren't too lonely with me?"

"Not really, the sound of the water is kind of comforting ya' know," both girls giggled together, "I'm just kidding, Lucy Gray, I don't know what I'd do without you,"

Lucy Gray smiled softly, taking (Y/n)'s hand into her own, squeezing it softly. The room fell silent for a moment, the comfort that Lucy Gray's presence provided helped calm her anxiety by a tenfold.

"Listen Lucy Gray, I just want to say thank you for what you did back there, you didn't need to risk your own life to save me but you did and I'm really grateful for that." Turning to see Lucy Gray already looking at her, she squeezed her hand in reassurance.

"We're allies now, you gave me that healing balm to help Jessup and besides I trust 'ya, that's what friends are for, right?"

The arena was heavily guarded by peacekeepers, probably Dr. Gauls doing. Ominous red lights lit up the facade, casting a shadow onto the high walls. It was different seeing the building at night, it almost made Sejanus rethink his plan entirely.

He sighed, his hand nestled in his pocket, fingers delicately brushing over the breadcrumbs nestled within. His decision was clear; he had to find a way inside. The rear of the Arena was shrouded in quietness, and under the cloak of night, he stealthily slipped through.

The entire arena was cloaked in darkness, setting his nerves on edge. Each occasional creak or shuffle made him freeze in place, fully aware of the danger that surrounded him. Despite the risks, he knew what he had to do. Perhaps he'd even catch a glimpse of her. As he emerged from one of the numerous corridors leading to the center of the ring, the sheer scale of the wreckage unfolded before him. The broadcast to the Capital paled in comparison to the vastness of the scene, making him feel like an ant in the middle of the arena. Lamina perched atop the structure where Marcus had previously hung, fast asleep. Surveying the arena, all other tributes remained hidden from sight, and Sejanus realized that Lamina might be the one to end his life as he lay beside Marcus.

With caution, he advanced toward Marcus's lifeless form, maintaining a vigilant watch on Lamina and the dark surroundings. Marcus lay sprawled unnaturally on the cold concrete, one arm trapped beneath him, and his left leg bearing the evidence of a mangled impact. Sejanus knelt beside the fallen tribute, his eyes filled with tears he hadn't noticed, gently repositioning Marcus into a more peaceful pose with crossed arms over his chest. A solemn touch closed the lifeless eyes. From his pocket, Sejanus retrieved a small velvet bag, its contents a collection of breadcrumbs—a District Two tradition, giving the departed with the luxury of bread for the arduous journey that lay ahead of them.

He knew it was selfish to want to see (Y/n) one last time, if he called out for her and she came, he was just going to endanger her life. He didn't want that, Sejanus just wished he could kiss her one last time. He lost track of time just staring at Marcus's body. The arena was so peaceful at night, just the faint whistles of wind, lulled Sejanus into a false sense of security. The quiet crunch of gravel behind him made him go stiff, a tribute had spotted him. There was a claustrophobic silence, Sejanus teared up , thinking of his life back in Two, his Ma and (Y/n). His sallow breaths picked up once he heard the footsteps drew closer, screwing his eyes shut tightly.

"Sejanus!"

Quickly turning around to the sound of the harsh voice, deep down he wished it was her but he knew better with its deep inflection. It was Coriolanus.

"Coryo, you can't be here, you'll get killed," Coryo let out a loud scoff at his words, rolling his eyes at him. He moved forward to stand next to Sejanus,

"We'll both be killed with whatever stunt you're pulling, Dr. Gaul sent me in here to get you and if you're not back out with me, she'll kill your family and mine"

Sejanus looked up at Coriolanus from his crouched position, the red lights that were outside shone through the small gaps in the wall. It gave Coriolanus a menacing stature, compelling him to go forward. Coriolanus sighed softly, pulling Sejanus to his feet.

"If your tribute finds you out here dead, based on her reaction before, I highly doubt she'll last." Sejanus looked away, he could feel the guilt eating away at him. He was going to leave (Y/n) fending for herself, if she needed food or water he wouldn't be there to give it. It was selfish of him to leave, he would be condemning her to death. Coriolanus caught his attention again.

"At least do it for her,"

Jessup's condition worsened by the second, fading in and out of consciousness with alarming speed. Lucy Gray's worried eyes scanned his trembling form, and he seemed plagued by nightmares, soaked in the sweat that clung to Lucy Gray's undershirt. Refusing their attempts to offer water, he shook uncontrollably. Lucy Gray, lips pursed with concern, wiped the dripping sweat from his forehead. (Y/n) sighed heavily, her mind drifting to the time her mother fell ill. She vividly remembered sitting by her mother's bedside, unable to leave her, and the painful decision when her aunt couldn't afford to care for both of them. Ma Plinth, the Plinth family matriarch, had taken her in like a second daughter. Every week, with a basket full of goodies, Ma Plinth would walk (Y/n) across town to her aunt's house, nestled amidst the mountains. Lucy Gray's gaze shifted to (Y/n), and in that moment, they shared unspoken understanding.

"When my ma was very sick, Sejanus's family took me in, his ma used to come with me to visit her." (Y/n) moved softly down on the ground, kneeling next to Lucy Gray and Jessup. She really cared for Jessup and in his state, dehydration was the last thing they needed. "She was in a comatose state, we desperately needed to get her some liquid, so Ma Plinth, the doll, showed me this little trick."

The bottom of her dress, a fragment of a life she once knew, lay in tatters—blackened by dust and despair. She stared down at the remnants, clutching the fabric tightly in her hand as if holding onto the last echoes of her mother's presence. The room, cold and unforgiving, bore witness to her silent turmoil. The decision she was about to make would likely lead to her demise, but in the grand scheme of things, it felt inconsequential. Her mother, wherever she was, would have access to a television to witness her rebellious act. As she mustered the courage, a resounding ripping noise filled the concrete room, prompting a gasp from Lucy Gray, who instinctively grasped her hand to intervene.

"Oh darling, you don't need to do that-" (Y/n) cut her off lifting her hand off.

"But I do, Lucy Gray, I hate to say it but I fear Jessup won't last much longer if we don't do anything, and it's not like she can do anything about it now." She grinned as she finished ripping the final piece of the dress. Submerging it in the small stream of water that was beside them, to clean off the dirt. Squeezing out the excess water, and softly placing it over his mouth, trying to hydrate him in anyway possible. His eyes fluttered slightly, his eyes filled with panic, snatching the wet rag off his mouth and throwing it across the room.

Lucy Gray concerned, moved beside (Y/n). What was wrong with him? He desperately wiped at his lips, trying to dry them of the water before pointing an accusatory finger at both of the girls.

"Are both of you trying t' poison me?"

"Of course not Jessup, we- you're just dehydrated, we're trying t' help you!" Lucy Gray spluttered out a response as Jessup neared the two threateningly. His hands met her chest as he pushed her to the ground. Her hands flew back to try to cushion her fall.

"I know the two of you have something planned." He turned his sights to (Y/n), who had reached down to help Lucy Gray to her feet.

"We got to go Lucy Gray," she whispered quietly as she examined Jessup again. In the corner of his lips a foamy substance began to show. Rabies. Those stupid fucking rats. (Y/n) grasped Lucy Grays hand tightly pulling her quickly out to the tunnel.

"Run!"

The tunnel felt never-ending, her lungs burning with each gasp of breath, and her feet aching as they harshly pushed against the concrete. Hand tightly holding onto Lucy Gray, she wasn't going to let her go, not after everything she had done for her. Pushing harder off the rubble as a small glimmer of light began to shine through. Jessup wasn't far behind them; his thundering footsteps echoed in her ear, he was gaining on them. Stepping out into the arena, the light burned her retinas; they hadn't seen the sun in god knows how long. Quickly scanning the arena, she spotted one of the Capitol flags laying on the ground, blood pooled out from underneath it. Panicked, she quickly dragged Lucy Gray across the arena.

Some of the stands had crumbled, leaving piles of rubble stacked upon them. If she could somehow lift Lucy Gray onto them, she could make her way over to the private boxes; she could climb up to safety. If (Y/n) could help her up before Jessup got to them, she could scale her way up. They would be safe in the box. (Y/n) had no doubt that Jessup was strong, but she doubted he could rock climb up to them. District Twelve was known for their coal mining, and she doubted he could climb up a wall. Not that District Two was either, but the countless hours she spent with Sejanus out in the mountains helped a lot.

As she lifted Lucy Gray up to grasp the railing of the stands, she glanced back at Jessup as he stalked behind her, he didn't look like himself. His complexion had turned grey, the sweat on his skin glowed as the sunlight beamed in through the arena, foam dripping down his chin. She forced herself to look away as Lucy Gray pulled herself into the stands, reaching her hands over the railing to pull (Y/n) up.

She dragged Lucy Gray to the back of the stands near the box, it sat high up on the wall but the large mound of rubble that lay beside it seemed scaleable, at least for (Y/n). Lucy Gray backed up against the wall, desperately searching around the stands for a way to escape Jessup, as he made his way up to them.

"There's nowhere to go, (Y/n)!" She clutched desperately at her hands, the skin of her hands were rough, she flinched slightly from the friction against the cuts on her palms.

"Listen, I'm going to give you a boost up this piece of concrete and just climb into that box above us, ok?" (Y/n) cupped her cheeks, her eyes filled with tears as she nodded softly, glancing back at Jessup who now stood menacingly at the bottom of the stands. Her eyes glanced back into (Y/n), as her tears fell down her face.

"What about you?" Lucy Gray's hand moved to cover the hand on her cheek, "it's too high for me to help you up!"

"I'll find a way up to you, darling," (Y/n) softly wiped her tears away, Lucy Gray pulled her into her embrace, just in case.

"Please come back to me."

"I will. Now quickly, he's on his way!" Lucy Gray lifted her foot into (Y/n)'s intertwined hands, placing her hands on her shoulder for balance, she nodded as (Y/n) boosted her up. She grasped the edge, pulling herself up onto its jagged surface. (Y/n) watched as she made her way into the box to her left. Jessup had reached the top of the stands, he stood opposite her. He looked like the capitals perfect victim, forced to play this demented game, transformed by the games into a paranoid, disease-ridden killer.

Turning around quickly to work on climbing up the concrete, fingertips grasping onto small ridges that were created by the collapse. Jessup realised what she was doing, she could hear him running towards her. She made quick work climbing up the block, her fingers were screaming in pain as she gripped the ridges trying to pull up her body weight. One hand reached the up towards the top edge of the concrete, her fingertips grazed the edge. The second (Y/n) got a proper grip on the ledge, she felt a hand grip around her ankle. She tried to shake her ankle from his grasp but he was too strong, he was unwilling to let her go.

One harsh tug sent her tumbling to the ground, hitting her head on a seat as she went down. He picked her up and threw her towards the edge of the stands. She struggled to raise her head, the blow she got to her head made her feel weak, maybe, just maybe this was her time. She’d done good deed by helping Lucy Gray escape him. She just hoped Sejanus wasn’t watching, she didn’t want him to see her go this way. Her eyes fluttered open. Jessup walked menacingly towards her, tears welled up in her eyes, this wasn’t him. Slowly she stood up, her balance was uneven, the ache in her head clouding her vision, but her eyes remained unwavering on Jessup. A soft thud averted her eyes, Lucy Gray had dropped down to try help her.

“No,” (Y/n) whispered softly, she shook her head to try to get her to stop whatever she had planned. Her eyes returned to Jessup who seemed to be looking at something in the distance. There was a faint whirring sound behind her, she turned her head slowly as to not alarm Jessup, her eyes didn’t leave him until he left her peripheral. By that time the whirring grew closer, (Y/n) got a quick glance of what looked to be a drone carrying something. It flew straight past her shoulder and crashed into the wall behind them. Water exploded across the stands. All three of them stood frozen, staring at the dark stain the water created on the concrete.

Lucy Grays head turned back to face the two, but her eyes were looking passed them, her eyes grew wide. More whirring noise came from behind them, it was louder than the first. Maybe it was Sejanus trying to help her out? She began to turn her head towards the sound, when she heard Lucy Gray cry out.

“DUCK!”

(Y/n) fell to the ground, they were a lot closer than she thought. Jessup was still facing the wall in shock. The drone crashed into the stand beside him, sending the water all over him. He started shaking uncontrollably, his eyes wide with terror as the water drenched him. The realization hit him that the very thing he feared the most was now inescapable, and he screamed, his voice a mix of fear and desperation echoing through the arena. (Y/n), paralysed by the unfolding scene, could only watch helplessly as Jessup's irrational fear became a harsh reality.

Most of the drones veered toward the wall, near where Lucy Gray had crouched behind some seats. A few strays hit Jessup as he attempted to flee, reaching the edge of the stands to clamber down. But the drones were quicker.

As (Y/n) lay on the floor with her eyes tightly scrunched, she heard a loud crash and a thud. Opening her eyes quickly, she saw Lucy Gray standing from behind the seats, a hand covering her mouth with tears falling. (Y/n) shakily got to her feet before slowly turning and glancing over the edge. She gasped – he had fallen from quite a height, but that wasn't what killed him. A blade from the drone had impaled his stomach, and blood pooled around him. She had to look away from him.

(Y/n) felt a soft pair of arms wrap around her waist; it was Lucy Gray. She buried her head into the crook of (Y/n)'s neck, and (Y/n) could feel the tears wetting her skin. Turning around, she embraced Lucy Gray tightly, offering any semblance of comfort she could provide. Lucy Gray sobbed harder into her chest, and (Y/n) couldn't help but let a few tears fall as well. She might not have known Jessup as well as Lucy Gray, but he had protected them with his life, even if it was unintentional.

“Thank you,” Lucy Gray whispered softly, they had made their way back to the box, it was safe for now. (Y/n) held her tightly to her, she was so still she had assumed she had fallen asleep. (Y/n) turned to her softly stroking her hair, confusion filed her face. “For what?”

“For keeping your promise.” Lucy Gray intertwined their fingers giving her a small smile.

“I’d do anything for you Lucy Gray, I mean it.” She squeeze her hand tighter at her words. “Now, you go get some rest, you deserve it.”

Lucy Gray rested her head on her shoulder, slowly falling into slumber in the safety of (Y/n)’s arms.

(Y/n) cared deeply for Lucy Gray, as if she were her sister. She proved that tenfold when she sacrificed herself to help Lucy Gray up to the box. She didn’t deserve to be here, but then again, none of them did. She knew if it was Sejanus in her place, he would had done the same.

Her mind began to wonder back to the drones, some part of her wished that Sejanus was the one to send them, that he was watching and wanted to protect her. But she knew better than that. The drones didn’t start coming until Lucy Gray stepped away from safety, until she jumped down the concrete block, until she was standing behind Jessup. Coriolanus was a passionate mentor, she could tell the moment she laid eyes on him. He stunk of desperation. He wanted to win, so he saved both their lives to save hers. Selfishly she wished Sejanus was watching, that he was sending her gifts. But she knew that seeing Marcus in that state most likely made him quit so he wouldn’t have to see her die the same way. Her eyes welled up, all she wanted to do was embrace him, seek comfort in his arms that she hadn’t gotten since she was in District Two.

She wanted him to do it for her

Taglist: @nolanbiigfishboi @0liveleaf @valterras @daisydark @writing-fanics @cdragons @anonoussy @deems-16 @prettysbliss @hollyskywalker @dilucpegg3r @ennycutie @mymadokamagica @kenj1sl0v3r @melodveis @paramorelvrr @gayandfairycore @huang-the-geek @evanpetersmood @teen-antisocial @just-a-blue-nerd @bigsimperika @ietss

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coff33notforme · 11 months

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German lessons

A/n: Sorry I’m in love with König, and I saw no one had done this idea so I thought I needed to change that

Summary: During a light hearted German lesson with your favorite KorTac operator, a small misunderstanding leads to a confession between you and the Austrian

Pairing: König and Gn! Reader (fluff, pre relationship, maybe some spelling mistakes)

A deep, gravely chuckle echoed through the empty room, filling it with a warmth. It dripped from Königs lips like honey, the sound was sweet to your ears.

You groaned as you lifted your face from between your folded arms, you couldn’t contain the smile forcing itself onto your face, you fought back small giggles as you gently elbowed Königs forearm that he laid rested on the wooden table in front of you.

“Please stop laughing, I told you I wouldn’t be any good at this!” You exclaimed, your gazing shifting as you narrowed your eyes at the German book between you, scanning the page amongst the foreign phrases to see if anything framillar popped out, but to your dismay it seemed to be a sea of uncertainty.

König shook his head softly, as he watched you with an uncharacteristically soft look in his pale eyes.

“Nonsense, you just need more practice.” He spoke lowly, his deep voice coated in an airy, velvety tone, he spoke softly as if he was cooing to a frightened animal.

“You wanted me to teach you, remember Schatz?“ he teased weaponizing the nickname, he knew you had a soft spot for his pet names, as you shot him a playful glare

“Don’t you dare, use that name against me.” You grinned with a teasing scowl, before your eyes threaded along the paper, this time your eyes had a curious glow to them, like a child peering through the window of a candy shop. Your eyes fell upon another interesting word

“What’s this one?” You whispered your finger falling to the word you were referring to, your head tilted slightly as Königs eyes drifted to where you had pointed

“Ah, Hase?” He asked softly, his murky blue eyes shifting from the paper to you.

You nodded softly

“What does it mean?” You pressed as you watched König eyes melt from behind his dark hood, like a light peeking through a jungle of darkness.

“It means bunny.” He replied, his voice rasped but as soon as he saw how your face lit up at the word he could feel his cheeks began to glow from under his hood, he gave an airy chuckle, it was such a pure sound, and it melted your heart as you watched him, your eyes never leaving his figure.

König could feel your piercing gaze burning holes through him, he turned to you with a nervous glance

“Why are you staring?” He deadpans his heavy accent bleeding through his words, your soft lips crease into a warm smile.

“Nothing, it's just a cute name.” You hushed with an airy chuckle as you turned from the tall man, a wavering silence lingered in the air filling the space between you.

“You know, I’m really glad I get to spend this time with you, I really do like you.”

You smiled with a pause “how do you say it in German? "Ich liebe dich?”

Your tone was hesitant as you spoke, but as soon as the words fell from your mouth König blue eyes widened, it looked as if they glowed from behind his hood, emulating a soft shimmer in the sea of black paint that coated his pale skin.

A warmth filled his cheeks, now looking away from you, desperately hoping you couldn’t see the effect your words had on him as he offered a choked response

“That’s, that’s how you say “I love you.” He rasped, a slight squeal in his voice

Now it was your turn to become embarrassed, your heart stuttering in your chest as your face grew to a soft red.

“O-oh.” Was the only thing you could muster

Another wave of quite rested, yet this time it seemed to crowd the two of you.

Königs breathy chuckle seemed to snap you from your sort of trance as you looked up to him. His large hand patted your shoulders, König turned to you, looking into your eyes as whispered something

“Ich liebe dich auch, meine süße.”

Your eyebrows furrowed in confusion as you turned to him

“What did you say?” You asked Königs eyes had a warmth to them you’d never expected as he spoke. Standing from the table with an airy laugh. You smiled as you called after him

“König! Wait what did you say!” You pressed with a lighthearted smile, you sighed as your eyes drifted once again to the book beneath you falling upon a now framillar phrase,

‘Ich liebe dich…’

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I hoped you enjoyed I really enjoyed writing this!!

#cod x reader #cod mw2 #könig mw2 #könig x reader #könig modern warfare #cod fluff #cod fandom #könig fanfiction #cod headcanons

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yrluvjane · 13 days

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𝒀𝒐𝒖𝒓 𝒍𝒐𝒗𝒆 𝒊𝒔 𝒃𝒆𝒕𝒕𝒆𝒓 𝒕𝒉𝒂𝒏 𝒈𝒐𝒍𝒅 𝑰𝑰

[old money] James x fem!reader

《 Summary - James deals with feelings, and you fall ill after hearing the rumours spread about you of the day before, leaving you under his care.》

𝐒𝐞𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐬 𝐋𝐢𝐬𝐭

As James sat in his office, surrounded by a sea of paperwork and reports, all waiting for his signature, he couldn't help but think about you. Despite the relentless pressure of the approaching deadline, you kept popping up in his mind like a persistent siren, demanding his attention.

There was something about you that James found intriguing, something that made him want to get to know you better, to understand what it was that made him feel this way. He couldn't quite put his finger on it, but there was something about you that kept drawing him in - a spark, perhaps, or a certain sparkle that shone through in everything you did.

Maybe James was hallucinating, maybe it was just the rays of the sun shining over you but even then, he had met many beautiful women throughout his life, but there was something about you that set you apart, a certain inner light that made you special and captivating.

James had always felt like he was a passenger in his own life, watching the days and weeks and months go by with no real sense of purpose. He tried to go with the flow and make the best of what he had, but deep down he knew it wasn't enough. He longed for something deeper and more meaningful, but was too afraid to take the risk and step out of his comfort zone.

He was stuck in this limbo of uncertainty, unsure of what to do and who to be. The only thing he knew for sure was that he wanted something more, something different, something like you.

He remembered how your eyes shined in the afternoon sun, and the connection that he felt to you that he couldn't quite put his finger on. James' thoughts drifted off, lost in the memory of that day in the garden, feeling a twinge of regret for not pursuing things further.

He wondered what could have been, if he had been braver and taken a chance on you and he couldn't help but smile to himself, imagining what could have been, but before he could fully indulge in his thoughts, he registered the clicking sound of heels approaching his door. With a groan of resignation, he prepared himself to entertain another one of Marge's ramblings.

As the door opened, the noise of the crowded office poured in, threatening to disrupt the peace and quiet of his own space. With a deep sigh, he took a deep breath and listened.

“It’s your dad.” She says.

"Hello?" He says, a big smile spreading across his face. "Dad!" He says, his voice overflowing with joy. "How are you?" He asks, his mind already racing with all the questions he has for his father. James listens intently as his father speaks, taking in every word and relishing in the sound of his voice.

His father is always there for him, no matter what, and that feeling of connection and security is indescribable. Even now, when he is older and wiser, James can't help but feel grateful for his father's constant love and support, and he knows that he's lucky to have someone who has been such a guiding force in his life.

And so James decides to share his moment with you with his father, feeling a sense of relief as he does so.

The moment his son is done talking, Fleamont turns to his wife, full knowing she will be very interested in what he’s about to say. “What is it, Fleamont? Is he alright?”

"I think James fancies someone." he whispers, looking at her in disbelief. Euphemia's expression immediately softens and she breaks into a joyful grin. This was the first time Fleamont had witnessed his son developing a romantic interest, and it was a sight to behold.

Yes, James has had intimate relationships with women before but even though James didn’t admit to feeling something for this girl. Fleamont knew better, he can’t recall a time in his life where James had described someone in such a picturesque way.

"She's like a sunrise on a cold winter morning - she just lights up the whole room. Though very direct and sharp, definitely not someone you'd want to go head to head with."

"Ever smelled Jasmines before? Bloody irresistible. It's like she's walking around with a bouquets of them,"

Euphemia, not one to be kept out of the loop when it comes to her son's love life, immediately grabbed her phone and began to pester Sirius for information. She was eager to know who this girl was and how long James had been keeping her a secret. She knew that James held a special place in his heart for Sirius, the raven-haired boy who had been a constant presence in his life and was a brother to him and a son to her.

She was sure that if James were to confide in anyone about his romantic interests, it would be with Sirius. So you could imagine Euphemia’s surprise when she found out that Sirius was just as clueless as she was. Who was this girl that had caught James' attention? She wondered.

However, on the other side, James was completely oblivious to the fact that his previous actions would have an impact on your life. He never considered the consequences of his gestures, which would rather sooner than later turn your world upside down, leaving you to get burned and pick up the pieces.

The next day, you tried to downplay the whole thing when your friends had asked about him. They had seen the flowers and had immediately assumed that something more was going on between you. You had spent the better hour of an afternoon denying they were nothing more than that, Flowers.

They grilled you for hours, probing for any “juicy” detail they could get, and you truly did your best to avoid the topic. They continued to pester you about the man who butted himself into your life and you couldn't help but feel a sense of irritation.

In the end, you were left feeling exhausted and vulnerable, as though your personal boundaries had been completely trampled on by the curiosity of your friends. Your feelings towards James were a complex web of emotions, neither good nor bad, neither right nor wrong.

James was a charming and charismatic man, and so it was natural to feel a deep and intense attraction towards him, but at the same time, there was a sense of apprehension, a feeling of uncertainty that you couldn't quite shake. Your friends' incessant questioning only served to inflame that feeling of confusion and frustration.

And for some inexplicable reason, it felt as though James was a deeply private matter, and one that you, yourself, didn’t quite understand and would only be revealed on your own terms, when you were ready.

It felt as if they were pressuring you to make sense of something that wasn’t really there. So, you did the only thing you could think of - you changed the subject, or else found a way to distract them long enough for the topic to be forgotten.

The day after, when you walk into the kitchen, ready to start your shift, you can feel the tension in the air. There's an awkward silence when you enter the kitchen. You keep catching your colleagues exchanging looks and whispering to each other, but no one seems to want to talk to you and dismissive when you try to start a conversation.

No one speaks to you.

They avoid your eyes and whisper to each other in hushed tones. You try to break the silence with a cheerful, "Hey, good morning," but no one responds.

All they do is mutter and shoot you dirty looks and it may be the dramatic side of your brain talking but it almost felt like the whole world was against you, and you don't know what you did.

You move towards Tina, who was one the first people you met when you first started and as such you considered her a dear friend. She’s standing over the cutting board, busily preparing carrots.Her hair is pulled up in it’s usual tight bun. "Hey,," you call out quietly, hoping to avoid the attention of others, "Do you have a minute?" She looks up at you, her eyes cold.

"I’m busy." she replies, her tone sharper and more clipped than the pins used to keep her hair in place.. Your heart sinks, and you try to ignore the disappointment rising within you. Trying to keep your head down and do your work, but it's difficult to focus when everyone around you seems to be avoiding you like the plague.

It's like you're a ghost, invisible and repelling all forms of life.

You feel like you could scream. Why is everyone treating you like this?

All you want is some answers, and it seems no one is willing to give them to you. Feeling desperate, you decide to approach a more level-headed colleague, Mary. You approach her and try to appear confident, even though you feel anything but. "Hey, Mary," you say, trying to sound casual. "Can I talk to you for a minute?"

Mary turns to look at you, her eyes lighting up with kindness. "Of course, what's up?" She sends a soft smile at you, warm and welcoming a contrast to how everyone has been to you.

“Is it me, or does everyone seem a bit..closed off?” You try. And subconsciously take a step back when you see Mary’s smile falter for a second. Her brows furrow and it takes little convincing to pass off the look she gives you as pity. She looks at the rest of the crew who all seem to be eyeing her from the corner of their eyes, sending her warning glares like pariah’s eyeing their lunch. And in a fight or flight manner, you snap towards everyone with a glare, daring them to say something. Most go back to focusing on their own work, the minority left have the courage to look back at you and meet your stare.

“Need help with something?” You offer. If your voice was once a warm fire that encouraged laughs and jokes then now it was an icicle, just as cold, just as sharp.

Mary's expression softens as she sees the concern in your eyes, when you turn back to her. She takes a deep breath and tries to maintain a calm demeanor, even as her own worries begin to surface. "It's not just you," she says softly. "I think–" Her eyes seemed to lock on something and you watched her bite her lips. “Come with me.” She says, her eyes boring into yours as she sends a heated glare to someone behind you.

You notice the tension in Mary's expression and you start to feel a pit forming in your stomach. Her tone is crisp, and you can tell that she has something urgent to say. You take a deep breath as you follow her out through the corridor, away from the others. Her pace is quick, and you almost struggle to keep up with her as she marches ahead. "What's going on, Mary?" you ask, feeling a sense of unease washing over you.

“Yesterday, Mr. Potter gave you flowers.” She says and your eyes widen in shock. How did she know that? You wondered, it was definitely not the answer you had expected when you walked out here and when your lips parted so you could voice your thoughts, she spoke again, answering your question as though she read your mind.

“There are words going around,” she explained. “Some are saying you and Mr. Potter are…” Mary paused for a moment, “having affairs..” Her eyes are watching you carefully, as if searching for a reaction.

You take a deep breath, trying to keep your composure, and you look at Mary with a mix of emotions written all over your face. "Having affairs?" you scoff, your voice barely above a whisper. Mary pauses, her eyes locked on yours. After what feels like an eternity, she finally speaks, her voice soft and almost whispery. "They say that he favors you in an...intimate perspective." Her eyes seem to bore into yours with that, as though she's trying to see into the depths of your soul.

A strange fusion of guilt and fear wash over you. You can't even imagine what it would be like to be intimate with Mr. Potter, but the thought alone sends shivers down your spine. You take a deep breath, trying to steady your nerves, and you hold her gaze, trying to be as calm and composed as possible.

"That’s bullshit," you say breathlessly, it almost comes out like a silent whisper, "Nothing happened. The flower pot he gave me was a leftover from the stock bought to decorate the pool."

You feel yourself getting more and more agitated as Mary continues to talk. You don't know why, but the idea that people are talking about you and Mr. Potter, saying that you're having affairs? Who says “having affairs”?! and even…you can't even bring yourself to finish her sentence in your head. If word gets out about this, that dream of getting fired might just come true.

At that you start getting dizzy, your heart is beating faster and faster, and you feel like you're about to pass out. Calm down. Take a deep breath. Everything is going to be okay. You tell yourself, trying to steady your shaking hands. In and out. In and out. You breathe in deeply, then let your breath out slowly, trying to calm yourself down. In and out. You don't even realize that you've started chanting those words to yourself, trying to ground yourself in the present moment.

"Mary, what are they saying?" you manage to say, your voice weak and hoarse. You know that they're talking about you, you can feel it. You can feel their eyes on you, their judgement weighing heavy on your shoulders. You’ve heard it once but you have to hear it again. It’s like your mind refuses to acknowledge this truth. You don’t want to believe this, you don’t even want to go anywhere near it, it’s like a nightmare. One you wish someone would wake you up from.

"What are they saying?" you repeat, this time a little louder, a little stronger. Mary squeezes your waist gently, as if to comfort you, and you hear her speak. "They're saying that you're having an affair with Mr. Potter," she says softly, as if it hurts even to say the words.

So you heard it right.

You feel a cold chill run down your spine, and you're not sure if you can handle this. You're not sure if you can handle this. The shame, the embarrassment. W-what would your mother say if she heard about this? You take a deep breath, trying to steady yourself. "It's not true," you say this time louder. "I-I mean -They're lying!"

“I know.” She says softly into your ear.

You try to steady yourself, but the world is spinning around you and you feel as if you're going to collapse. Your vision is blurred, and you can barely see anything in front of you. You struggle to take a deep breath, but you feel as if you're suffocating. Mary’s voice rings out in your ears. You feel her arms wrap around you to help keep you standing.

And then, just as suddenly as it started, everything goes black, and you lose consciousness.

You blink your eyes open, and you feel a sense of disorientation as you try to adjust to your situation.

You lie in silence for a moment, drinking in your surroundings. You notice the large and well-appointed room. It was a beautiful room, with ornate wood paneling and large windows that overlooked a beautiful landscape.

The sun was low and shining through the windows, casting a warm and inviting glow onto the room. The bed is made with crisp white sheets, and the AC hums quietly in the background, cooling the air to just the right temperature.

You take a deep breath, feeling your shoulders relax for the first time in ages. You start to wonder where you are, how you got here, and most importantly: who brought you here? You sit up slowly, letting your eyes adjust to the soft lighting in the room as your brain tries to catch up to what's going on.

You're brought back to reality by the feel of a hand on your shoulder, and you jump, startled. You turn to find Olivia, standing next to you, her face a mixture of concern and relief. "You're awake!" she exclaims, and you smile, feeling a sense of warmth settling over you. “What happened?” You asked, clutching your head to try and prevent the brewing headache threatening to occur.

"Are you alright? Do you remember anything?" Olivia's voice was soft, her voice calming. She squeezed your shoulder. "You're awake, which is good. You've been unconscious for a little while, you passed out. Mary caught you before you hit the ground and Anders told us to move you here." She spoke with a comforting tone, her hand rubbing your shoulder reassuringly. “I should probably go and call for him.” She said,

You blinked owlishly as Olivia quickly excused herself, her pace brisk as she left to go and call the butler. Just as she closed the door behind her, you heard a knock on the door, and you looked up to see Anders enter the room.

“Hey, um...where am I?” You asked, getting up and lying back on a bunch of huddled up pillows. "You're in one of the guestrooms," Anders replied. "Mr. Potter asked to relocate you here after he heard of your fall. I must say, it was quite disturbing to see you like that."

You felt a sense of embarrassment at the thought of fainting in front of everyone, "Thank you for uhm-..helping me," you said."It's no problem. We're just glad to have you back. Are you feeling better now?" he asked, the concern clear in his voice and unintentionally reminding you that everyone is still talking behind your back and your little fainting spell would be like trying to dow out a forest fire with gasoline.

“Just tired.” You responded, laying a hand on your forehead and closing your heavy eyelids; hyper aware of how soft the sheets are and the warmth of the duvet draped over you; a sense of peace settling in.

You hear a soft knock on the door, and you groan and yawn as you roll over to your side, stretching like a cat as you rub the sleep from your eyes. You couldn't help but feel the usual sense of tiredness as you slowly started to rise; your body feeling sluggish and tired. You looked at the clock and realized that you had slept again and this time for hours and it was already the evening. ��Come in!” You say, eyes trained on the ticking clock as you jolt up.

In walks Mr. Potter, tray in hand and look of concern etched on his face. His eyes softened with a sheepish smile, "I've brought you some tea and toast—not much, I know, but it hopefully will help you feel better." He sets the tray down on the small table by the bed, his manner warm and comforting.

"Take a bite. It might lift your spirit," Mr. Potter suggests, his deep voice carrying a tone of genuine concern. He hands you the steaming mug, his eyes locked on yours, awaiting your answer. You take the mug less out of politeness and more out of fear.

"How are you feeling? Are you okay? Do you need me to call a doctor?"

Your words come out weak and hoarse, but you manage to get the message across. "No, I just... I feel dizzy, and my head hurts," you say, closing your eyes, hoping for the room to stop spinning.

He rushes to your side, helping you sit up, before gently stroking your hair back from your forehead, "Can I get you anything? Some water, maybe?" You can't help but feel a warmth spread through your chest as his hand brushes the hair away from your face. His cologne is strong and masculine, filling your nostrils with an addictive and sophisticated aroma.

Oh my God, stop it! You chastise yourself.

You sit up a bit, taking a sip of the tea and nibbling on the toast. The toast is warm and buttery, and the tea is soothing and calm. The warm brew soothes your throat and warms your insides, bringing a sense of calmness that you desperately need.

James smiles back, "I'm glad to hear that. Would you like anything else? Some fruit maybe, or some more tea? I just want to make sure you're comfortable."

"I’m good," you say, smiling awkwardly. "Thank you."

"Are you sure everything is alright, darling?" he asked, his eyes locked on yours. You felt your heart skip a beat at the nickname and of what he was going to ask. "Sure, of course," you replied, trying to keep your voice steady.

He raises a brow, unconvinced with your answer.

"Just some work-related stress."

James's gaze was focused on you, his face a picture of concern. "Well, if you ever do need anything, I'm here for you," he assured you, his voice soft and comforting.

“Thank you, Mr–”

“James...please. Call me James.”

"Thanks, James," you replied, a small smile crossing your face. "That ...means a lot." James smiled back, "Of course," he said. The sound of the ticking clock abruptly shattered the stillness of the room, causing you to gasp as you suddenly remembered the passing of time. "Shoot!" you exclaimed, frantically throwing the quilt aside and hastily placing the tea on the nearby tray. "I've got to go!" you added, your voice laced with urgency.

James stood up, bewildered by the sudden change in your behavior. “Why? Is something wrong?” he asked, worry clearly etched on his face. “It’s eleven! Why didn’t you wake me?” you exclaimed, eyes wide with shock as you began frantically running around the room. Scrambling to find your shoes, James watched with wide-eyed confusion, asking, “What’s going on? I’m so lost.”

"It's eleven! Everything is probably already closed now!" you said, desperation and panic evident in your voice as you searched for your shoes. Suddenly, you noticed that James was holding them, and you immediately let out a sigh of relief. "Oh, thank you so much." you said, taking them from him.

"Is Anders still here?" You asked as you hurriedly put your shoes on. The sound of your heartbeat pounding in your ears, drowning out the sound of James taking a nervous step forward. “Uhm no, he usually leaves at ten,” James replied, his voice barely above a whisper. You sigh in defeat and throw yourself back on the bed. “Can I ask why?” he continued, taking another step closer, his eyes searching your face as you covered it with your hands. “I was going to ask him if he could give me a ride,” you answered, your voice muffled.

"I told Anders you could stay for the night." James stated, a slight edge to his voice as he backed up a step. You bolted upright, eyes widened in horror. "No!" you cried, your words tumbling out in a panicked rush. "No, no, no, no! I can't stay here. The others, they..." Your words trailed off, the image of their judgmental frowns dancing behind your closed eyelids, threatening to send you spiraling into a coma before you could even finish the thought.

Despite your protests, James stood firm, "You're staying here," he insisted, his tone brooking no argument. Taken aback by the suddenness of the force of his tone, you froze, your mind racing as you tried to guess at his intentions.

With a heavy sigh, James continued, his voice softer now as he sat down on the edge of the bed. "Look, I understand that this isn't ideal. But I promise you, you're safe here.”

"I- I’m fine," you stutter out, your voice barely louder than a whisper at his words, at the sweetness of it at the concern stretched between his eyebrows. James' brows furrow in discontent as he takes in your words, and for a moment there is a tense silence between you. But he quickly recovers, and his expression becomes determined.

"Then at least let me drive you home."

You are struck dumb by these words, and you don't move for a moment as you try to process what is happening. But before you have a chance to respond, you have given James your arm and you watch as he leads you rapidly towards the door. He's not waiting for an answer, he's making a decision for both of you.

And less than five minutes later, you find yourself standing outside, feeling the cold air brush against your skin. The night is quiet, truly silent. You can’t even hear the sound of traffic with how far you are from the town. You look up at the sky and at the stars, how they’re sprinkled like splattered paint over a black canvas. The sound of an engine in the distance breaks your trance and you look down squinting your eyes at the bright light shining from the car’s headlights.

The sleek black car glides into the driveway, its exhaust leaving a faint smell of fuel in the air. You watch as James climbs out of the driver's seat and walks up to you. He has his hands placed under both your arms, steadying you as though he was afraid you would roll down the stairs without his support. You mentally scoff, you maybe a klutz but even you won’t embarrass yourself to that degree.

He walks you to the passenger side of the car and opens the door for you. Your gaze is pulled back to the car itself, and you can't help but marvel at its beauty - probably at the cost of your entire apartment building itself. James seems to notice your fascination, and he gives you a small smile.

“It’s cold.” He whispers and you snort as you bow your head, feeling a wave of warmth wash over you as you enter the car and close the door behind you. The car's interior is warm and comfortable, and you sink into the soft leather seats with a sigh of relief. James enters, sending you the most adorable welcoming of smiles, as he pulls away from the extravagant driveway. You watch the streetlights fly by through the window, getting a sense of disorientation as the world around you blurs.

"Are you ok?" James asks, breaking the silence. His voice is low and concerned, and you can hear the worry in his words. You ask that alot you want to say but opt for a nod instead, not trusting yourself to speak, and he reaches across the car to pat your leg reassuringly, giving you a gentle squeeze. It's a small gesture, but it makes you feel a little better. You sit in silence as James drives, the only noise coming from the hum of the engine and the occasional click of the turn signal.

The tension between you is palpable, and you wonder what James is thinking. Is he as nervous as you are? Is he trying to work out what to say to you?

James seems to sense your unease, and he breaks the silence with a sudden question. "So... What really happened today?" he asks, his voice low and curious. STOP asking! You want to yell, but you can’t really do that when the man is driving you home. You take a deep breath, trying to gather your thoughts.

"I don't know," you reply, your voice wavered. "I found out about something and I just…" James nods at your silence, as if he understands. "I can understand that," he says, his eyes fixed on the road ahead. "Sometimes life can be a little overwhelming, can't it?"

You watch him through the reflection on the window and nod, feeling a sense of thankfulness towards him for not pushing. "Yes, it can be. Sometimes it feels like everything is just a little too much."

"I know what you mean," James says softly. "But you need to remember you're not alone. That there’s someone there, y’know. And if you ever feel overwhelmed you can come to me." You pull your head away from the window and face James with parted lips. His eyes seemed to be just as shocked as you are as he stared at you. He quickly faces the road once more and pulls in a deep breath.

“Thank you.” You say into the silence. It's a small comfort, but in that moment, it means the world to you.

Half an hour later, you find yourself pointing towards a building in the distance. The street is quiet and lifeless, with only a few distant lights to break the darkness as James parks the car in front of the tall building. You're not sure what to say, how to express the feelings that are swirling inside you.

"Come on," he says, "Let's get you inside." You want to object but the warmth from the touch of his hands is addicting. It has you leaning on him as he leads you towards the building. “Do you want me to help you up?” He asks and you stare at him with furrowed brows, parted lips and eyes heavy with sleep. You nod and James doesn’t even hesitate to have his arms wrapped around you as he helps you up each step, patient and alert as he guides you up the stairs and carries your weight.

However, he seems awkward now that you're outside the door to your apartment, it’s silent, and there’s no other sound than the rattling of your keys as you turn them and unlock the lock. “Wait here.” You say, and James blinks for a moment in confusion, tilting his head to the side before nodding, watching as you walk in and leave him outside. He’s nervous and sweaty, and he reeks of anxiety as he bounces his leg, rehearsing what he’s trying to say. When your door opens once more, you’re in a robe and holding a small transparent box of what looks like doughnuts.

“A thank you.” You say and James involuntarily smiles at the gift, shaking his head. “Can’t take it,”

“Why not?” You ask and there is a dopey smile on your face as you lean against the door frame. “Don’t deserve it.” He says and you snort, rolling your eyes and you push the box between his hands. “If you don’t take it, you’re practically insulting me and I don't think you can be mean to someone who was sick.”

“You passed out, out of stress and not illness.” He says grinning and you feel butterflies fluttering or biting in your stomach as he leans a hand on the door, so that his face is much closer to yours. “Same thing. Take the doughnuts, Potter, and say ‘thank you’. It’s not that hard.” You respond, taking a step closer and matching his smile.

James takes your hand and places a gentle kiss on the back of it, “Thank you.” He says and you immediately feel all hot and fluttery. It’s like you're wearing hundreds of layers of clothes on the hottest day of the year.

“You’re welcome.” You breathe out and even though the conversation is over, you both still stand there like birds on a traffic stop waiting for the other to say or do something.

For a moment, the silence is awkward, and you're not sure of what action to take. But then, James breaks it.

His voice is low and somewhat unsure, his previous confidence as solid as water as he stands tall once more; but he still speaks clearly and directly. You subconsciously stand straight as well, feeling as though this conversation was going to be serious.

"... I've been thinking about you a lot lately. I don't know why, but for some reason, I just am"

You listen intently, trying to process what he's saying. He leans down, placing the treats you gave him gently on the ground and You have no idea what's coming next, but then he surprises you by taking your hand in his. Your eyes grow wide and you can’t help but feel dumb and speechless as you stare at your joined hands. James looks at you, his expression serious and determined but there is a nervousness hiding behind his glasses. He takes a deep breath and then asks, "Would you go out with me?...On a date that is."

You're taken aback by the suddenness of the question, but you find yourself nodding slowly. "I'd like that." You can see the relief and happiness spread across James' face, and he gives you a warm smile. "I was hoping you'd say yes. You’re off on Tuesday’s, right? Can I pick you up from here at 6?" He asks and you nod again, feeling a sense of warmth and giddiness spread throughout your body. “That sounds great.”

As James takes another step towards you, you start to feel a mixture of excitement and unease. You want to be close to him, you do, you really do, but you also feel like you're on the edge of a cliff, like one wrong move could send everything tumbling down. The looks of your colleagues flash in front of you, and you involuntarily take a step back.

James senses your apprehension, and he stops in his tracks. He looks at you with a mixture of concern and understanding, as if he knows exactly what you're feeling.

"Is something wrong?" he asks gently.

You try to gather your thoughts. "I don't know," you say, your voice a screen to your worries. "I just feel... I don't know. Like this is all too much and…too fast, like I may not be ready for this type of thing." You're suddenly aware of your rushed agreement to his proposal, and the butterflies that were once in your stomach turn to poisonous snakes.

James nods, "That's ok," he says quietly. "We don't have to rush into anything. We can take it slow, if that's what you want."

For a moment, there is silence between the two of you, filled with a mixture of uncertainty and possibility. And then, before you know it, James is closing the distance between you once again, his fingers brushing against yours, his face just inches away from yours. You think that he might kiss you and you're not sure of what you’re feeling but you’re sure of the desire, the craving for his touch but at the same time the logical part of you is yelling for you to pull away to warn you that this was going to burn you in the end.

It's a moment that feels like an eternity and a heartbeat all at once, and just when you think you can't possibly bear it any longer, James leans in and kisses your forehead. It's a soft, gentle kiss, filled with a mixture of hesitance and care, and for a moment, the stress you’ve been carrying the whole day seems to melt away.

As he draws apart, you feel a sense of relief and happiness wash over you, like drinking chilled water after you've just finished a marathon.

“Feel better, okay?”

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Tagging: @sssstarstruck @cloudroomblog @ietss @kquil @heraklees @loving-and-dreaming @enamoredofbella @astonishment @empath-bunny @white-wolf-buckaroo @in-tuned @orinatini @mariahossain @mo0n-water

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fieldofdaisiies · 9 months

Text

Like I’m Gonna Lose You

ship: Cassian x Reader type: drabble warning(s): none, self-doubt maybe word count: 1,8k words summary: Heyy idk if you're taking fuc requests but if you are can you write a cass x reader fic where they've been together a while but they're slowly drifting apart and only reader can see it and basically makes cass grovel? Idk if that made sense lmao but whatever you make of it in sure it'll be great.

You sit on a lounger, high on the roof terrace of the House of Wind, the tip of your finger absently tracing over the rim of your class. From your position your have the perfect view over the whole terrace, right to the training pitch.

Your eyes stay on Cassian, observing him silently. He is training with Azriel, their chatter and the echoes of their laughter reaching you.

You would love to laugh along, to join in, but you are so wrapped up in your thoughts, you can't. A feeling of unease settles into your gut as you try to remember when it was the last time that you and Cassian laughed so freely. It must have been weeks, maybe months.

Something is going on between the two of you. You don't know what it is, but it is there and it is a cold feeling. Something that makes a small crack appear in your heart. But this crack threatens to increase with each passing day.

As you watch them sparr, a pang of distance tugs at your soul. Not only is your heart aching, but also the bridge between your souls. The bond.

Your gaze stays on Cassian, focusing on how he elegantly glides over the pitch. He still is, without doubt, the most beautiful male in the the world. The one you fell in love with, the one you gave your heart and soul to and then one you would choose over and over again.

But there are these questions, that fill in your mind, doubts gnawing at you. Are you both growing apart? Is your once unbreakable bond becoming fragile all of sudden? Is this bond not meant forever? Was it never meant forever? In the past weeks Cassian has spent so much time with Az and Rhys, and you would never blame him for it. They are his brothers and he loves them. But you are here as well, and it seems like you are not at all important to him anymore.

Cassian lands a blow, and you try to cheer him on, to be supportive, but a cool feeling overcomes you when your cheering is met with ignorance. Maybe he hasn't noticed you?

But Azriel has noticed you, so how would Cassian not?

It's as if you are an outsider, observing a something that you are no longer part of. And that makes you incredibly sad.

You take a sip from your glass, and then place it down on the ground next to you before you lean back on the lounger and close your eyes. There is this bitter taste at the back of your mouth, your throat burning a little as your eyes start to water. What if his distance really means that he no longer wants to be with you?

You are yearning for the closeness you once had, the dreams and hopes you kept talking about. The future you had planned with Cassian. He is your mate, his your love and your life. Since the day the bond snapped you have never imagined to live a day without him. But this might all be coming to an end now…

As you lie there on the lounger, you feel the widening space between your souls, the ache of drifting apart. The joy that once has been brightly glowing between your souls, the passion and the love, it seems like it has vanished.

Tidal waves of sadness pull you into a sea of doubt and uncertainty. You squeeze your eyes tighter shit, wanting to drown out everything around you. And in the midst of it all, you only hope that you will find a way back to each other's hearts, making the bond stronger again.

Sadness engulfs you, like a huge cloud that dims the sun and robs you of your happiness. It slings around you, and grips your tightly.

You bit down on your lower lip, hoping to stop the tears before they can leave your eyes. You don't want to cry. Not yet. Not if maybe there can be a solution found for it all. You don't want to think about all the negative outcomes of this now — it is too soon, maybe things can go into a different direction…Maybe, just maybe.

A sudden touch on your knee startles you and you jerk up, eyes snapping open.

"No longer enjoying watching us spar?" Cassian asks with a smile on his face, his thumb brushing over your knee.

Tension of unspoken issues radiate between you two, and although Cassian tries to be his normal, casual self he can feel it as well.

You sit up, breathe in and move your hand over his. "I think we need to talk, Cassian."

Not Cass. Not my love. Not my mate. No — Cassian. It lands a blow to the general's gut and heart and he slowly dips his chin, nodding. "Yes, I think we do."

…

You gaze is cast downward, avoiding direct eye contact with your mate while you fiddle with your fingers. No one is talking as you on your bed, the door to your shared bedroom closed. The atmosphere is not bad, but somehow so very cold and tense.

You take a deep breath, your voice trembling with a mix of frustration and sadness. "I feel there is a distance between us that has not always been there, like we're drifting apart."

You pull on a piece of skin on the side of your nail, eyes still not meeting his. "You've been spending so much time with other people lately. So much more time with them than with me. It has not always been like that, Cassian. I feel like there is something happening between us and I don't know what it is."

Cassian sighs loudly, feeling a pang of guilt, as he knows exactly that you are right. But there has just been so much to discuss, to organise, in the war camps, concerning the possible threat of Koschei, just everything. His defensive walls rise instinctively, knowing it is not entirely his fault that you have been spending so little time together lately. "I just had to do many things, take care of many things and organise them. It's not like I don't want to be with you."

"But that's the thing," you say, your voice tinged with frustration. "I thought we were a team, like you could include me in those things. I am your mate, your wife, your partner in everything. Lately, it doesn't feel like this at all anymore. It feels like I am going to lose you, Cassian."

The general of the Night Court armies looks away, struggling to find the right words. A shiver runs down his spine and cold spreads out inside of him, settling in his heart. "It was not intentional. I never meant to make you feel that way. I did not want to put unnecessary pressure on you."

You lift your head and shake it, finally meeting his gaze. "That is bullshit, we are team, Cassian. I t has always been the two of us — the two of us against the world."

"And it still is." Cassian's expression is pained as he keeps his gaze locked with you, reaching over but you pull your hand away.

"I am not sure about that anymore." "Y/N." His voice sounds like he is pleading. "Please, don't do this now." "Do what?" you snap, suddenly feeling like he is accusing you of something. Like you are the bad guy for addressing the issue your relationship is currently facing.

"Making this difficult." "I am not making anything difficult, Cassian." You shake your head vehemently. "I don't want us to drift further apart. We used to be so close, but now it feels like we're just two strangers living under the same roof. I want you as my mate, fully and completely, or not at all."

Cassian swallows thickly. The realisation of what you said hits him like a slap. He knows he has messed up with no longer including you. But he really just wanted to spare you all the problems and issues he is currently facing in Illyria. "You're right," he finally admits, his voice softer now, tinged with remorse. "I've been occupied a lot, did not include you in my things and decisions, and I'm sorry. I don't want us to drift apart either. I am sorry, my love."

Tears well in your eyes as you look at him, and draw in a deep inhale. My love.

"I will include you from now on, I will tell you things again. I just did not want to bother you with it all."

"Cassian, I am your mate. You don't bother me with these things."

He lowers his head, chin nearly meeting his chest, his shoulders lifting in sad shrug. "I know. But I overheard you talking to Feyre, saying you are worried about everything that is to come. I did not want to put my worries on your plate as well…"

This time it is you who reaches over, stroking your thumb over the back of his hand.

"You should have talked to me."

"I know." He huffs and lifts his head to look into your eyes. "I promise that from now on, I'll make more time for us and that I will share everything with you. You're the most important person in my life and I don't want to lose you. And I want you to be included in everything. You have to know that."

And you technically do, it has just changed in the past weeks. You nod slowly, but Cassian is not convinced. He flips his hand over and squeezes yours. "Please, Y/N. Please, forgive me and tell me that we can soon return to how close we were."

Some of the clouds and storm of your relationship clears and smile a little. "Yes, Cassian. We need to work on it…so that our relationship gets better again, but we will get there."

His arms slings around your shoulder and he pulls you to him, kissing the top of your head. "Yes, we will. Please, never forget how much I love you."

You can confront the issue together, the problems that caused the issues for the relationship, you just have to talk, just communicate and it will get better again. You love your mate so much, you love this bond so much, it will get better again, you know it.

You relish in his scent, his warmth, the hard press of his chest against the side of your body as you lean into him, your eyes closing. It feels so familiar, so good, and you have been longing for his touch and this closeness for so long. It has felt like torture, but hopefully you are on a good way now to heal your relationship.

"I love you too, Cass."

~~~~~~~ tags: @helhjertet @moonlightazriel @aayo-whatt @crushedcloudsx @brekkershadowsinger @girasoli-e-sorrisi @ignite-me @swifti-ed @cassiansbigwingspan @burningsnowleopard @banasheefan56 @a-frog-with-a-laptop

#cassian x reader #cassian acotar #cassian x you #cassian imagine #acotar x reader #acotar x you #acotar #acosf

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moremaybank · 1 year

Note

Hey love, I hope you're doing well. Is it okay if you do 17 with JJ Maybank?

I really love your work

- 🐈‍⬛

"what's wrong? why'd you stop?" / "nothing's wrong. i just wanted to take a second to admire how beautiful you are."

warnings 18+, protected sex (did i really just write that?), a mix of soft and rough!jj, language, i think that's it?? this warning feels really short

author's note thank you my love!

prompt list (requests closed) / jj masterlist

"Are you sure about this?"

Your eyes search JJ's, and you can see the doubt behind them. Doubt that you didn't want him as bad as he wanted you. And then you saw the guilt. Guilt from laying his eyes on his best friend, his personal definition of forbidden fruit.

The thing is, JJ doesn't realize that you've been dreaming of being in his arms since you were a kid. To run your hands through his sea salt-coated hair, kiss his pink lips, and tell him you love him. And, if you're lucky, hear him say he loves you too.

"Absolutely. I've wanted this forever, J," you respond. The uncertainty fails to wash away from his features, and you bring a hand up to his face. Your thumb grazes over his cheek as you look deep into his eyes. "I promise."

Finally, finally, a grin spreads across JJ's face. He wastes no time, surging forward and kissing you as if he's dying, and your lips hold the magical potion that can save his life.

It all happens so quickly. Your clothes are shed. Your hands are in each other's hair and all over each other's skin. Your lips collide over and over in a fit of passion. The kisses are made with love and lust in equal measure as you two finally partake in what your dreams are made of.

JJ's lips leave bruising kisses up and down your body, marking you all over and finally claiming you as his. When he makes it back up to your breathtaking face, he captures your lips in another harsh kiss. His tongue dances with yours, but you catch him off-guard, wanting to try your hand at asserting some kind of dominance. You suck on his tongue, pulling back before eagerly chasing his lips once more. He lets you and comes back time times harder than the last.

That is, until he abruptly pulls away.

"What's wrong? Why'd you stop?" You ask, your brows furrowed with concern as you try to catch your breath.

JJ's hand smoothes the hair away from your face before taking hold of your chin between his thumb and pointer finger. His eyes trail over your entire frame, naked and beautiful and begging to be touched, and he gives you a tooth-achingly-sweet smile.

"Nothing's wrong. I just wanted to take a second to admire how beautiful you are."

The words roll off his tongue with ease as if it's a phrase he's used to saying, and your heart threatens to beat out of your chest.

JJ, the most gorgeous boy you've ever known, thinks you're beautiful. You had always considered the thought to be impossible. Miraculous at best, and that wasn't because you doubted your beauty. It was because it never crossed your mind that he had even noticed. It's incredibly corny, but that proves that miracles do happen.

"Get over here and kiss me."

He indulges you, towering over your frame from his spot on the bed and pressing his lips to yours. It's slow and savoury, a full one-eighty from the fast-paced kisses he offered earlier. You moan against his lips and break away.

"Closer, JJ."

"I'm right here, baby," he breathes, nuzzling his nose against your jaw as he etches more kisses into your skin.

"No," you breathe, "closer."

Your legs wrap around his torso, and your heels push his lower half closer to yours. His cock grazes against your core, and your walls clench in anticipation of his future intrusion.

You see the hint of mischief in JJ's gaze as he catches your drift. He grants you one last peck, his hand circling his length. He guides the tip to your dripping entrance and probes you slightly. His eyes move back up to your face as he pushes his way in, and he gets lost in the way your face contorts when he does.

Your hands slide up his arms, looping around the back of his neck for support as he slides completely into you. A trembling mewl escapes your lips at how deliciously he stretches you out.

"So big, J," you whine.

"I know, baby. But you're taking me so well. You know how pretty you look with me inside you?" JJ questions. His hand glides up your thigh and finds your clit, starting to massage it. His hips begin to move and you throw your head back as he ruts into you with a perfect tenderness.

It's perfect. He's perfect, and you decide he should never be anywhere except right here, drowning in you.

"You don't have to hold back, JJ," you speak. "Give in. Fuck me the way you want to."

"No," he says, brushing your statement off, "you deserve this side of me. I wanna do this right."

"I want all of you, J. Don't hold back."

He gives you a once-over, and he commands your wish when he's sure this is what you want. He presses down on the back of one of your thighs and spreads you out to give him more space. His perfect cock ruts into you sharply, knocking the wind out of you.

You don't regret your request for a second because this is the JJ you wanted. Of course, you love his sweet and considerate side, but you hoped to see the side that didn't care what he took from people. The rough, unapologetic attitude that was just so him.

"Fuck, where have you been all my life? This pussy is perfect, so fucking wet for me," he praises.

"Your cock is perfect too, J."

"Yeah?" He taunts. "You gonna be my good girl and cum for me, pretty girl? I know you want to."

You lean up onto your elbows, moaning into JJ's mouth as you capture his lips in a fiery kiss. Your cunt squeezes him harshly, a tell-tale sign that you're about to cum for him.

"Gonna cum. Make me cum, J. Please," you beg.

Your pleading eyes and tight grip on his cock are too much for him, and he snaps. He fucks you hard enough to send you over the edge and then some, unable to get enough of your soaking heat.

"So. Fucking. Good for me," he speaks, punctuating each word with a forceful thrust. He jerks inside you as he finishes on the last one, releasing into the condom.

JJ leans his forehead against yours, closing his eyes as relief washes over him.

"That was amazing," you grin.

"You're amazing. I've been waiting for this forever, and damn, was it worth it."

updated jj taglist (join here!): @pankowperfection @oncasette @hopesdadswife @taintedxkisses @maybankslover @goldenroutledge @penny4yourthoughts @bmo-bri @hemogloban @princessbetsy123-blog @slytherhoes @maybank-archives @whoisdrewstarkey @aliyahsomerhalder @dreamingwithrafe @vigilanteshitposting @poppet05 @sw34terw34ther @adoreyouusugar @rosie-cameron @f4ll-for-you @rafesdirtyslut @slytheringirlthatkillpeople @tell-me-when-ur-ready @bbycowboi @venomwh0re @jjmaybankisbae @enhypens-hoe @pankhoeforlife @cecesrings @indigoreccs @laineywilsons @mvybanks

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genshin-side-piece · 4 months

Text

Never Let Me Go

He didn't leave me alone. Neuvi demanded I finish this story, so here we go.

Sequel to : Love Me Tender, Love Me True, Tell Me You Are Mine

Warnings: Yandere Content, Implied Kidnapping, Implied Captivity, Implied Stalking, Angst, Mentions of death & dying, my bad writing, anything else I missed, 18+, Minors DNI

The sky had an odd look to it, decidedly foreign in comparison to how storms normally looked in Fontaine. Thick bulbous clouds hung heavily in the skies, stifling the air around you as they drifted above rolling across the heavens like waves. Blacks and grays, mixed with a hint of navy and what you swore was ocher swirled above you, mixing together in what you could only describe as a volatile dance. The motion of the colors was the only movement the clouds had. They had come from nowhere, as clouds often liked to do in Fontaine, but these had a lingering quality. Despite the strong winds that raked their way across the steadily diminishing landscape, the clouds above remained fixed to their place in the sky. Holding everything below them fast as the rising water steadily swallowed all of Fontaine.

You stood on your perch near the peak of one of the taller mountains, braving the torrential weather as you tried your best to see anything that looked familiar. Even as the cold rain fell in sheets around you, the wind whipping against your skin, making it icy to the touch, you held firm. You ignored the cold and the weather, pushing yourself even higher as you tried to see more. The only thing that stopped you from going much further were the small hands of your keepers as they attempted to pull you back. They pleaded with you to return to the cabin they had brought you to. They told you that the weather was too much for you. There were mentions of you becoming sick should you stay out in it for too long. They begged and pleaded with you to come back, yet you silently refused. Your eyes remained ever fixed on the dimming lights of what you thought was the opera house, though it was truly impossible to tell from this distance. By now most of the landmarks that had been a part of your daily life were gone. Washed away or engulfed by the turbulent sea. Only black churning water remained. It lapped at the rock cliffs below you, climbing higher with every second. There had been no sign of danger. No warning. Only torrential rain and rapidly rising seas which caught nearly everyone unawares. To the horror of all, the prophecy had finally come. You tried not to dwell on it as best you could. Dwelling would feed the panic that was rising as fast as the water was around you. Panicking, wouldn’t do anyone, least of all you any good. Instead, you attempted to focus your concerns elsewhere. You fixated on the lights in the distance, silently praying, hoping, yearning for even the faintest fleck of blue or white to appear amongst the blacks and grays that surrounded you. You told yourself it would come. It had to come. Despite the uncertainty of your present, there was one thing you knew would always remain true; Neuvillette wouldn’t fail you. He wouldn’t abandon you. Not now, not when you needed him the most.

It was an odd sensation to want him now. A delicious irony really. After months of silently loathing him to the point that you had wished he would vanish, he was now the only thing you wanted. You would later blame it on a combination of both the situation and your very real fear, but for now, you held firm in your belief that Neuvillette was the only person who could make this better. Surely he could calm the raging skies and the climbing seas like he did the court. A stamp of his cane or a stern word would send the horrors that surrounded you away. Fontaine would come to order again. Then you wouldn’t have to face the horrible fate that was inching ever closer with what felt like every breath. You would be safe. Neuvillette would keep you safe. That had been his one promise to you when he had taken you away. He would do everything in his power to protect you. That was his reasoning for tucking you away from a world that wished you harm. Now, as you found yourself adrift in that same world, you wished for nothing more than to be within the safety of his apartment again. The thought of the cold stone walls that had been the bane of your existence for nearly a year, brought you minimal comfort. They had upheld Neuvillette’s promise to you. They had, like him, kept you from harm. How you silently wished to be within their confines once again. How you yearned for Neuvillette to appear before you. Yet when you called his name into the howling wind, hoping for any kind of sign, only the echo of the rushing air as it whipped past answered. The skies above the opera house remained as dark as when you had first laid eyes on them. Fittingly, your captor was nowhere to be found.

Neuvillette had been scarce in recent weeks. His work or rather the work he was required to do to keep the nation running, had kept him away. Through the grapevine of the house, you had been able to learn that there had been a crisis he’d been summoned to deal with. A matter so great, so important, that he had been forced to abandon his routine concerning you so that he might focus on it. The afternoons he had spent by your side were replaced with Neuvillette locking himself away in his office for hours, even days at a time. The only time he left was to either attend court or make an odd trip home to rest. Otherwise, you were generally alone. Your only companions were your little wardens. They kept you occupied during the day, nothing really changed in that regard. The nights though, the evenings that had been spent filled with awkward dinners and one sided conversations became hauntingly silent. In the time that was supposed to be yours and Neuvillette’s, your wardens stuck to their well practiced schedule. The clocks in the house would strike 6 and suddenly you found yourself utterly alone. You were never told whether he was coming or not. It had become a waiting game of sorts. One you quickly grew tired of playing. You’d had half a mind to give him an earful for this new tortuous delight. It was a level of cruelty that seemed out of place for him. You had made it a point to raise the issue to him, but when you next laid eyes on him, you thought better of it. His normally kind features held a strange tension to them. His jaw was almost always tightly set, his teeth appearing to grind against one another as his mind held his thoughts far away from you. His distraction was so profound that he didn’t notice you were there. Even after you made what you felt was a ruckus, he didn’t look at you. Not once. His eyes remained pinned to one piece of paper or another, his dark eyebrows furrowed, knitting and fighting against one another as he read page after page of reports.

After that, you viewed his lack of presence as a welcome thing. Let him be completely distracted. Let his feelings for you be the furthest thing from his mind. You could sleep soundly knowing those clammy hands of his wouldn’t haunt you in the night. The peace of your morning levee had been restored as he was not there to watch you wash and dress. The need for frills and formality were dropped in a heartbeat. The clothing he preferred that you wear was somewhat simplified to be more comfortable. You dropped the unnecessary layers in favor of things that were easier to get on and off on your own. The dining room he insisted you use, was instantly abandoned. Solo breakfasts out in your garden, weather permitting, became the norm. Luncheon was officially moved to either the conservatory or one of the corner rooms that overlooked the surrounding area so that you could enjoy the view. Dinner, oh the tedious ritual that was dinner, saw the most drastic change of all. The oneness of it was replaced with quiet evenings spent in solitude, the roaring fire in your bedroom filling the silence, while one of your favorite books kept you company. It was the happiest you had been since he had first brought you here. You could almost imagine that Neuvillette didn’t exist at all. The fantasy of being alone in such grande circumstances was a delicious thing. In place of dealing with him, your afternoons were spent flitting from imaginary ball to imaginary ball, conjuring all kinds of suitors and gossip that were left in your wake. A mysterious noble, with an even more mysterious past. How had you come to be in your current position? Was your family secretly well to do? Were you involved in some nefarious affairs? Had you married well only to suffer the loss of your spouse? Even thoughts of a rich benefactor had begun to fill your fantasies. Other days you were a successful adventurer. Blessed with fortune from your extensive travels. The best the adventurer’s guild had. You had conquered all kinds of foes, large and small. Entire nations owed their gratitude and their treasuries to you. Your reward for your efforts were the surroundings of which you were now enjoying.

It was easy to get lost in your fantasies, to indulge in them as time went on. The melusines did little to discourage them. Some of them even played along, enjoying your make believe world almost as much as you did. The only thing that put a dampener on the fun was the infrequent sound of your captor’s shoes echoing off the parquet floors. Neuvillette was a specter in that regard. His heels striking against the wood always pulled you away from your intrigue and adventure. You would sit up just long enough to see his shadow slowly sweep by the drawing room door. Once, it would linger, eventually it would invade the sanctity of your space. You had tried to run from it. His shadow had stalked you through every room in his house. Following you as it passed through hallways and corridors alike. Now, he didn’t even pause. He just kept going, the sound of his shoes fading as his work pulled him further and further away from you. It left you with an odd feeling.

As the days blurred into weeks and the weeks into months you began to feel a certain kind of longing take hold. You didn’t dare admit that you missed him or his attention. Your continued freedom, though limited to the confines of your captor’s home, was a blessing. Short of leaving, you could live how you liked. The regular rules and restrictions had been suspended in the crisis. Once it had been enough to do as you pleased. You had even taken it for granted. Since your rather abrupt capture, the very idea of having your full autonomy returned to you was something that you had striven for. Now that you had it, you found it to be less satisfying than you remembered it to be. The emptiness of your world, the loneliness that came when your wardens left for the night left a bitter taste in your mouth. The time spent alone did not entertain you as it once had. The fantasies you chose to immerse yourself in no longer satisfied you. A weird craving began to form. A desire, a yearning to not only see Neuvillette but to bring him back into your routine.

In the beginning, you tried to suppress it. You refused to acknowledge that you wanted him in your life. In the war that the two of you had fought against each other, this was the proverbial final battle. Your acceptance of his place in your life would give him all the permission he needed to continue to hold you here. It was the one thing you had sworn never to give. You refused to justify his perverted idea of love by falling for him. You decided your return to the rules and formality was a much needed reminder of why you couldn’t wait to be free. Of why you loathed him so. That was the excuse you told yourself while you dressed for dinner. It was the same one you played through your mind on repeat as you inched ever closer to his office door. He was a beast. A horrible awful man, who had done you wrong. A thief who had stolen you from the world. You tried to remember that as you stopped out his door. You despised him. You hated him. Your general dislike of his need to infantilize you with his rules and restrictions served as the fuel you needed to push against the door of his office. Normally, it was closed or locked. To your surprise, you found it slightly ajar.

“Monsieur?” You pressed further into his gloomy office, finding him hunched over his desk, eyes glued to a stack of papers resting on top of it. You took him in, your previous mantra easily forgotten as your heart sank. The always poised, always perfect, always elegant Chief Justice had been reduced to a haggard shell of his former self. His robes, cravat, and his waist coat had long been abandoned on the sofa. Half laying, half hanging off the furniture’s delicate frame. For the parts that you could see, the only recognizable piece of clothing was the wrinkled dress shirt that served as the base of his ornate attire. It too had been changed. The sleeves of the normally crisp shirt had been rolled up past his elbows, exposing you to something so scandalous as his bare forearms. You stared at the exposed skin of his arms, fixating on it for far too long before you forced your eyes higher. They followed the line of his shirt, coming to a startling halt when they found where the closed portion met the open portion. Without the cravat to hold it in place, the collar of his shirt hung loosely over his collarbones, giving you an ample view of both his exposed neck and upper chest. You couldn’t help but roughly swallow as you blatantly stared. Foolishly, you had never thought of Neuvillette as a man before. For all the time that you had spent as his captive, you had never changed your opinion of him. Like the rest of the population, you considered him more of a thing than a person. The good chief justice. The reliable Iudex. A mainstay, an institution. A long series of titles and responsibilities that helped to support the archon and keep the nation together. Nothing more than that. Things weren’t human. Things didn’t have feelings. Things were inanimate, useful, and disposable. They could be forgotten as quickly as they could be discovered. For many, Neuvillette was easy to forget. He rarely showed himself in public, outside of necessary events and court. He held no close acquaintances or deep personal friendships. He had long remained a mystery to the people he served. So it was perfectly sensible to not relate to him as a person. If nothing else than for your own sanity.

Now as you stood before him, as you realized that he was less a thing and more a person, you felt your sanity rapidly slipping away. Rather blatantly, you allowed yourself the indulgence of tracing your eyes over him, of appreciating his more beautiful features. You admired the way his neck met his shoulders. He had a rather long neck for a man. On anyone else, it would have been a gangly thing. On Neuvillette, it was noble, graceful. Oddly, you wondered what it would feel like to kiss it. To press your lips against the sides, into the hollow of it. He was so pale. Would he flush just from the contact of your lips, or would you have to nip at him to give him a little color?

“Petit” His voice, ever soft, ever gentle, snapped you back to reality. Fuck. You stood there for a moment, wide eyed and blinking as you let your previous thoughts drift away. Based on his curious expression, you had to wonder if you had been caught. Your cheeks flushed at the thought. “Are you alright?” He let out a small laugh. “For a moment, you seemed like you were quite lost in your own thoughts.” Your face only got hotter. How utterly embarrassing. You had half a mind to dash out of his office and never return. “It’s nothing.” He nodded, thankfully letting your gaff go. “I see.” The worn quality of his voice didn’t go unnoticed by you. It lacked the normal polish it tended to possess, hints of fatigue lacing their way into it. Based on the way he sounded, it seemed like Neuvillette could benefit from a good rest. You thought to suggest it, but the work stacked up all around him gave you pause. Neuvillette was nothing if not consistent in his duty. It was why he was so revered by the nation. So long as he was needed, he would continue to serve. The piles upon piles of paper that were neatly laid across his desk were enough to render any idea of an extended rest a futile one. They would weigh as heavily on his mind as they did his desk, easily preventing him from getting the rest he so desperately needed. “I am so pleased you decided to come by.” His gaze softened as he pulled his lips into a tired smile. You imagined it was the first time he had smiled in months. With him facing you, the worry and the woe that had etched its way across his features was all too clear. Dark bags hung beneath his jewel like eyes, dimming down some of their brilliance. It was a hard sight to swallow. While loathsome, Neuvillette was undeniably magnificent when he wanted to be. To see some of that brilliance sacrificed for the sake of his duty was almost too much to bear. “It is good to see you.” The relief in his soft voice made your heart ache. “I-” He swallowed roughly, gently clearing his throat. Water. He needed water. The cracks in his normally smooth voice told you his throat was unusually dry. Your eyes went to the crystal pitcher which sat opposite his desk. You could tell it was dry and empty. An unusual error on his part. It spoke to how distracted he really was. “I have missed you. I do try to remember to say goodnight to you, but you are often asleep once I am able to do so. What a pleasure it is to see you awake.” Slowly one of Neuvillette’s eyebrows crept upwards towards his brow. “You are doing well, I hope.” That hope found its way into his eyes, reflecting in the facets of them.

You didn’t want to tell him you missed him. The capacity to do so died the second the thought had entered your mind. Still, you had. You did. As insane as it sounded, you missed his presence in your life. After all this time with him, you had gotten used to him being nearby. Never in arms reach, but always in ear shot. If the mood suited you, he was all too easy to pull into a conversation. You could ask him about the weather or the latest water samples and his voice would fill your world for hours. You could read while listening to him excitedly telling you about the difference in mineral composition between Liyue and Inazuma without ever having to say a word. Other days, you craved music. A perk of Neuvillette’s position was that singers, orchestras, and all kinds of theatrical troupes would send sample recordings as a way of enticing him into allowing them to perform at the opera. He played no part in the booking or the final decision. The Palais Mermonia merely handled the applications, but the theater manager would never turn down a favorite of the Chief Justice. Not when Neuvillette was positively enthralled with the idea of bringing a Liyuean opera star to entertain the masses. You benefited from this perk by way of Neuvillette bringing the records home for you. He would play them in the afternoons or even in the evenings after dinner as a suitable substitute to the two of you trying to hold an actual conversation. To suddenly not have him there, to have silence when you wanted conversation or music, was devastating. Playing the records alone didn’t hold the same appeal as it did when you were with him. “I-” You stared at him for another moment, trying to decide what best to do. You had missed him, but you couldn’t say so. You wanted to talk to him. You wanted to listen to your favorite Snezhnayan ballet with him again. The words to tell him so, failed you. A small voice in the back of your mind reminded you that to verbally admit you missed him, that you wanted him was to admit that he had finally won you over. The final victory in a series of smaller ones, where he could finally claim you as his. Even if it had sizable cracks in it, the wall you had held between you had to remain. You couldn’t allow it to fall. To do so was to allow him the excuse to keep you here forever. “Dinner.” You grimaced slightly when you bit the word out as soon as it entered your mind. The quickness of it made you both take a pause before you tried to recover. “It’s time for dinner, Monsieur.” You looked away from him, your eyes sinking to the floor in embarrassment. “We-” You. “Though you might like a change of pace. Eating in your office everyday must be tiring.” You tried to make that last statement sound as gentle as possible, but it was hard to hide the mortification in your voice.

A gentle laugh filled the room, causing you to look up at him. Some of the luster had returned to his eyes. Slowly they drifted away from you and over to a clock that was resting on the mantle. They took in the time, his chin coming to idly rest against the palm of his hand. He had needed a break. You could see it in the way his entire body relaxed at even the most basic of conversations. His mind had been long occupied with work. It needed a breather as much as the rest of him did. “It is, isn’t it?” He sounded almost wistful. As if the concept of dinner with you was more a dream than the reality you had proposed. “You’re all dressed for it too.” You had noticed that he had turned his eyes back to you. That he was drinking your appearance in. You had selected something you could both enjoy; he for its aesthetics and you for its comfort. A suitable compromise in a series of compromises that had happened between you. “How wonderful you look this evening. I have truly missed basking in your radiance.” He tried to sound sincere in his compliment. Despite being exhausted, he tried. You could see he meant it. You could tell he wanted to sound pleased. But given his current condition, the best he could do was mild interest. “I have been neglectful of you, haven’t I? I seem to always be caught up in things lately. You have my most sincere apologies, petit.” The smile fell in favor of a mournful frown. You watched some of the lost tension in his shoulders return, hating it more than you hated the worn quality of his voice. “If we were still on our regular schedule I suppose I would be late, wouldn’t I?” His eyes came back to you for a final time, glistening with despair. “How clumsy of me.” There was a bitterness in his voice. It echoed in your own heart, causing the ache in it to become worse. You had never seen him like this. It went beyond the normal fits of depression and melancholy that he seemed to suffer. The distance between you felt wider than the chasm, despite you only being a few feet from each other. Why was it like this, what was happening? Why was it happening? What could be so great that it could reduce Neuvillette to this?

A cold sensation shot its way up your back as a dark thought crept into your mind. Had you caused this?

Once more, your eyes dropped to the floor while you raced to remember every interaction you’d had with him prior to his withdrawal from your world. Things had been amicable between you. The garden he had given you, along with slightly more autonomy, had gone a long way in improving your relationship. Outside of his less than desirable behavior, you were more prone to tolerating his presence when you weren’t hiding in your sanctuary. The only thing that came to mind was right before he had pulled away, he had gotten a little rough with you. When he came to you at night, Neuvillette was never forceful. The most he had ever done was hold you in place with a firm grip if you tried to roll away. There had been bruising afterwards, but they generally faded after a day or two. The night in question, coincidentally his last night with you, he had been uncharacteristically insistent. His grip on you had been unrelenting from the onset. Neuvillette had wrapped his legs around your lower body, using his strength to hold you in place so he was free to use his hands. It hadn’t taken much to wake you. Living in his house had taught you to be a light sleeper. The way he had pulled you against him, his nails puncturing the delicate flesh of your hips had instantly pulled you back to reality. On instinct, you had retaliated. But that wasn’t it, was it? You looked back up at him, his eyes still firmly fixed on you, full of all the love and affection you thought he could muster. Surely that wasn’t it. After all you had done, after all you had said, one kick couldn’t be the proverbial straw that broke him. That couldn’t be the reason why he had abandoned you. “My apologies mon trésor.” That came as little more than a whisper. “I am bereft to do so, but I must decline spending the evening with you.” He hesitated, his eyes falling back to the desk. “Duty calls.” There was an ebbing silence that passed between you, one that not even the fire in the fireplace could fill. At that moment, the world fell completely silent. All you swore you could hear was the sound of your own heart breaking.

It showed on your face. It must have. The crack of thunder and the rustle of the trees matched the distress Neuvillette showed when he looked back at you. Outside, rain began to pelt against the panes of glass, hiding the weak sob that had managed to slip past your lips. The tears that fell onto your cheeks burned. The news that he couldn’t join you should have been a joyous thing to you. A confirmation that his lack of interest could be the first indication that his mania for you was passing. If he no longer believed he loved you, if there was no need to protect you, then surely that meant you could go home, didn’t it? You could return to your life. You could begin again. You should be overjoyed at the very possibility of it. No more restrictions or special diets. No more eyes following you everywhere. No more lack of privacy. You could control who or what entered your space simply by telling them to stay or go. You would never have to fear the roving hands that had haunted you in the night again. You could lock them out of your life as easily as you could the melusines. Everything you could want, everything you had wanted was all pinned on the concept of finally ridding yourself of your captor. Yet instead of being thrilled, instead of asking to the point of begging to be released, you could only begin to cry. Not out of happiness, but at the horrific realization that perhaps freedom wasn’t what you wanted anymore. Your life here, your life with him was a comfortable one. Aside from him and the ebbing loneliness without him, Neuvillette made your captivity an easy thing to bear. If you left the safety of Neuvillette’s arms or if you were forced to leave it, then you would have nowhere to go. Your apartment, along with your job and any mora you might have possessed were long gone. They had been lost the day you had disappeared. There was no promise that Neuvillette had saved them for you, nor was there any promise he would compensate you once you left. Everything you had, from your clothes to the roof over your head came because of Neuvillette’s love for you. Part of his need to keep you was so that he might protect and provide for you. To lose that affection meant the loss of his generosity. He could abandon you to the mercy of the streets and not think twice about it. You didn’t realize it, but you nearly collapsed just at the thought of it.

Neuvillette was at your side before your knees could fully give out. Strong arms wound their way around you, supporting your weight with ease. You made no effort to fight him. You had no more fight in you to give. All you had left were your tears and the very real possibility of begging for your next meal. “Forgive me, I beg it of you.” Neuvillette guided your head so he could gently press his lips against your damp cheek, causing you to cry even harder. “I wish I did not have to refuse you.” His arms came around your shoulders pulling you into a more tender embrace than before. “I have missed our time together. I loathe that it has been taken from us.” A beat passed before he continued. “I wish I could delay this for all of eternity, so that I might spend all my time with you.” You sucked in a deep breath, the terror of being abandoned easing just long enough to allow you to hear what he was saying. He still loved you. He still wanted you. Your actions hadn’t driven him away, at least not yet. That knowledge helped to calm you slightly, but it didn’t solve the overarching mystery. It didn’t explain Neuvillette’s current state nor the need for his extended absence. “Wh-” You hiccuped, trying to control your tears. “What is it?” You swallowed roughly, bring your hand up to weakly rest it against his arm. The warmth of your hand against his cool skin caused him to shiver. He responded to the consensual contact by pulling you even closer, fingers twisting their way into your hair so he might cradle the back of your head with his hand.

“I am afraid mon coeur, it is the end.”

There was no elaboration that followed that statement. Just his arms growing tighter as you continued to spill your tears into the soft fabric of his shirt. You never did make it to dinner that night. Instead, you were content to let Neuvillette hold you until you were well past the point of exhaustion. You barely remembered the clock striking three before Neuvillette scooped you up in his arms and carried you to bed. Through the haze of your mental fatigue, you remembered him helping you undress. You had gently protested, but he had merely cooed at you, silencing your weak pleas as he undid the clasps and ribbons of your outfit. He was only satisfied when you were in a shift and little else. You stood before him, waiting for him to do more. You vaguely recalled your expectation for him to put his hands back on you. For him to pull you back in and take advantage of both your tired state and your state of undress; but to your shock, he did not. Instead, Neuvillette pulled back the covers of your bed, gently ushering you under them. Only once you were settled did he touch you again. You faintly recalled his soft lips pressing against your forehead before sleep claimed you. It was the last time you saw him. The next day, the melusines took you away.

Two melusines collected you from Neuvillette’s apartment in the morning. They escorted you across the strait and into the mountains above the Opera Epliclese that afternoon. Had you been in a better mood, you would have enjoyed it. The excursion was the first time you had been allowed outside the confines of Neuvillette’s residence in nearly a year. The fresh air and the exercise should have been a welcome change to the sedentary lifestyle you had been living. Instead, your mind had focused on the night before. On the fact that Neuvillette hadn’t come to bid you adieu as you had left. When questioned, your escorts informed you that he was busy with other matters. There was a major trial set to happen over the course of the next few days. They refused to tell you the details of it, you doubted you would have really cared anyway. The only thing that really mattered was that Neuvillette’s preparation for it outweighed his need to see you off. But you supposed that’s what the night before had been for. He had abandoned his work in favor of spending one last evening with you. Despite your despair, you supposed that was something.

Early in the afternoon, you had arrived at the little cabin you now occupied. It was a far cry from the grandeur of Neuvillette’s home in the Court, but it beat being left in the wilderness to die. The sweeping corridors and vast rooms had been replaced with a house barely large enough for one, let alone three. The words the end echoed continuously through your mind as you took it in. You briefly wondered if he had meant it was the end of you and him. Even with his reassurance that he loved you, it would be fitting that after all this time that even Neuvillette’s patience would run dry. The amiability that you had recently shared didn’t erase the fact that you had still been a nightmare for him prior. Perhaps the wounds you had inflicted had finally festered to the point of being intolerable. Your recent forbearance wasn’t enough to ease the pain they caused him and at long last he had chosen to simplify the arrangement you and he shared. He loved you enough to continue to protect and provide for you, but he would see you no more. In the span of a night, you had been transformed into a number on a balance sheet. Another piece of paper on his desk, that only received his attention when the bill was due. Beyond that, you were something he could set aside and ignore. You could almost understand it. After all, this was what you had fought so hard for. The mission had always been to make Neuvillette tire of you. That’s why you had done nothing but fight him at every turn. It had been your hope that if he realized you weren’t worth the trouble, that he would simply let you go. In retrospect, what a silly notion that had been. Freedom, at least complete freedom, would never be in your grasp again. You learned that when you found a third melusine, Sedene you thought she was called, waiting for you in the house. She informed you that per Neuvillette’s wishes, you were to remain here for the foreseeable future. There had been a spiel about your safety and how you needed to stay close to both the house and your new keepers at all times. That it would be beneficial for you to avoid the shore. She implored that you heed Neuvillette’s wishes this one time. If you didn’t, then there was no guarantee that anyone would be able to help you.

You had found that odd. It joined the near constant playback in your mind as you laid awake on the lumpy mattress at night. He loved you. The end. Stay close or else. Avoid the shore and the water. It hadn’t made sense to you a few days ago. None of it had. Your watchers had tried to assure you everything was fine. Even when you directly questioned them about Neuvillette’s motive for sending you here, they promised you it wasn’t what you were thinking. In their words, the honorable Iudex was doing all he could to keep you safe. When you pressed further, one of them let it slip that the lower areas along the shore, specifically the city and the area around the Opera were not safe. Once the proverbial cat was out of the bag, you were told that Neuvillette had been spending all of his time on a plan to stop a catastrophe that was ready to strike at any moment. Part of that plan included protecting you. Despite his own reservations on the matter, sending you to one of the highest points in Fontaine was one of the only ways Neuvillette could alleviate the constant worry he had for you. Up until he had sent you away, he had held that option as a last resort. His preference had always been and would always be to keep you close. According to your new friends, once the crisis had passed, he would send for you.

Now, as the world was swallowed whole by the murky depths, you saw the full picture in its full horrifying detail. The End was exactly that. It was the prophecy, the end of Fontaine as a people and as a nation. The insolvable crisis that had drawn Neuvillette’s attention for these last few months was the destruction of all and how to stop it; or at this stage minimize it. As your eyes passed over the rising waters, you were all too aware that there was no stopping this. You could only wonder how much higher the water could truly climb before it finally yielded. It was getting close now. The hands that had held you back, yielded so that you might climb higher. After doing so, your eyes focused back on the horizon. They continued to search for any sign that Neuvillette may still come. You waited and waited and waited. Silently pleading with Neuvillette to appear. Yet all you continued to see were the calamitous skies that covered the land and the waters below. No lights, no signs, no miracles; all that remained were catastrophe and death.

Death. Gods what if he hadn’t made it? What if part of the plan to save Fontaine was that Neuvillette would have to sacrifice himself for the greater good? What if the last time you saw him was truly the last time? What if your current circumstances were his final gift to you? Your felt as if your very soul splintered at the thought. With all he had to worry over, with the weight of the nation resting on his shoulders, the one thing he had been sure to save was you. Not the city or the people or the papers that plagued him or even himself; just you. Your knees gave out as you openly sobbed. Your keepers were quick to help you. They released your hands, rushing under you so they could catch you as you fell. Gently, they lowered you to the ground, urging you to come back to the small house you were all sharing. In their minds, the storm had proven to be too much for you. They worried after how cold you were, how drenched you were. One was concerned over the fever she swore you were developing, while the other mentioned something about your present state being the furthest thing from what Monsieur Neuvillette wanted. The mere mention of him only made you cry harder. Their focus was back on you in an instant, trying their best to calm you. Platitudes of everything will be fine and you’re safe did little to help ease the suffering that was ebbing up from your very soul. How were they to know that your actual burden wasn’t the storm at all, but the fact that thanks to Neuvillette, if the rest of Fontaine was lost, you would survive?

It was some time before your companions could coax you back inside. The realization that the three of you may be the only survivors zapped away any strength you had left. After your emotional distress had drained you to the point of exhaustion, the cold nearly finished you. You knelt there on the frozen ground, the wind freezing what few tears you had left to your face. The cold air cut through you with each blast. Everything from your neck to your toes was stiff. Your body could do little more than shiver as each moment passed. In the end, your keepers had to help you back to both the house and to your bed. They were in a panic once you were safely inside. You could do little more than watch as they frantically scurried about, fretting over the task of getting you warm and dry before there were any worse consequences than shivering. Getting you warm wasn’t too difficult to do. Dry clothes and blankets went a long way to stop your shivering. Your hair was a different matter altogether. The duo end up seating you near the small stove that sat in the corner of the kitchen. It was their hope that the heat would dry your hair faster. The activity, along with the exhaustion were a nice distraction. Your companions' efforts forced you to miss both the cessation of the storm and the flood alike. By the time they had you tucked into bed, the crisis was nearly at an end. A fact that you were woefully unaware of. Without the news that the storm had passed, your mind churned over the idea that both Fontaine and Neuvillette might be gone. You tried to come to grips with those facts, but your tired mind had neither the desire nor the inclination to try. Sleep kept calling to it. Numbing your senses to everything around you, including the sound of heels striking against the stone walk that led to the house.

Later, you often wondered if it was all a dream. If like your imaginary suitors and your fictional adventures, you had made the situation with Neuvillette up. Your captivity was in fact a reality. There was no denying that the Iudex of Fontaine held you firmly in his grasp. The months spent apart though. Your pseudo freedom while he toiled away. Even the climax of all of Fontaine being in peril due to the realization of the prophecy. The sky, the water, the ebbing cold followed by a scorching heat. Had they all been real or were they little more than delusions conjured by the fever that had taken hold after your exposure to the elements? It was hard for you to say. What was real though, was waking up in the safety of Neuvillette’s home. That prayer was answered. You knew it was his home, because you could hear the pitter patter of melusine feet scuffing against the parquet floors. The sheer number of them indicated that the only place you could be was Neuvillette’s home. Melusines liked to congregate near him. He allowed them to do so wherever they wished, but especially so within the confines of either the Palais Mermonia or his own personal residence. The room though, was not your own. The heavy brocades that lined the walls were unfamiliar to you. The bed with its ornate carvings, gilded ceiling, and velvet drapes that hung from the four corners of the canopy was entirely foreign to your world. It, like the rest of the furniture in this room, possessed an age and a weight that the rest of the furnishings in the house did not. As your own mental fog began to lift, you realized you had never been in this room before. Strangely though, you still felt you knew it. Maybe it was the rich teals and blues of the decor, or maybe it was the lingering scent of the sea breeze that wafted throughout the room. There was something entirely familiar about it that put you at ease. “Ma moitié” Neuvillette. You sucked in a sharp breath, your head weakly turning from side to side as you sought him out using the dim light of the space. Neuvillette was here. He was with you. Celestia above he was with you. The prophecy hadn’t claimed him as you had feared. He, like you, was safe.

Obligingly, Neuvillette briefly came into your field of view before he disappeared to press kiss after kiss into your hair, cheeks and sternum. “My darling one, you’ve returned to me at long last.” The relief in his soft voice was evident. It was too great to reflect the breaking of a fever or even the passing of an illness. You would have had to have been on death’s door to justify his reaction to you waking up. You couldn’t stop your mind as it briefly wandered back to your dream; to the icy winds and rising waters. Placing you on the side of a mountain while the nation flooded wasn’t exactly an elegant solution. You could, even in your muddled state, imagine the stress that fact had put on him. To find you safe, but far from well, had almost assuredly not helped him in the least. His body shifting distracted you from your thoughts. Though you couldn’t see him do it, you felt Neuvillette as he pulled himself even closer to you. A heavy arm came across your hips, his weight dipping into the mattress so he might press your body into his. The feeling of him, the warmth ebbing off of him was a welcomed thing. All you remembered was being cold. For weeks, maybe even months, all you had felt was the chill of Neuvillette’s absence. He paused above you, long enough to give you a tender smile. Though fuzzy, he was as you remembered him. His appearance was as tidy as it had ever been. There were no signs of fatigue anywhere on his person. He was, much to your own concern, perfect. It made you doubt that the crisis wasn’t a fever dream. Maybe you really had imagined it after all. “Mon-” You grimaced, your throat exploding in pain from just the attempt of speaking. Your vocal chords refused to respond as a burning sensation shot its way from the top of your throat all the way to the base. It felt as if your throat was being split in two with a hot blade. Gods it was terrible. The sensation was only made worse due to how dry your throat and your mouth both felt. Your tongue felt like sandpaper against your rough lips as it tried to add moisture to them. Neuvillette, seemed unconcerned. You felt him nudge your cheek with his nose, pulling a small whimper from you. “Shhh darling.” He kissed your nose, finally pausing long enough to rest his forehead against yours. “Do not push yourself.” He lifted his face so that he might look into your eyes again. “The fever has been taxing for you.” His other hand came up to rest against the crown of your head. “It has broken now. I have been told you have come through the worst of it.” Another gentle smile spread across his lips. “All you need do now is rest.” You felt his hand come to rest against the top of your head. Faintly, you detected the sensation of his fingers working their way into your hair, looping and stroking the individual strands, before settling on rubbing your scalp. The feeling you got from it was a nice one. It allowed the haze that had held your mind the chance to slowly take hold once again.

The remainder of your reunion with him was a quiet one. There were no parties or streamers. No shouts of joy. Just the occasional interruption of the melusines. In between food being brought and the bedding being changed, Neuvillette persisted in his soft words as he whispered endless promises to you between kisses. Words of adoration, promises of contentment. In your present state none of them really mattered. They were washed away by your own relief. Fontaine had not been lost to the black waters of the prophecy. Neuvillette had not perished. He was as safe as he had ever been. The hands that you had hated so could still be enticed to hold you close. It was just as the melusines had said. They nor he had not abandoned you. You were loved. You were cherished. The peace that came with that knowledge was overwhelming. You could do little more than lay back against the pillows as the stress drained away. You tried to focus on him, on his words, but after everything you were too tired. The softness of his voice, along with his continued rubbing of your scalp with his fingers worked better than any lullaby could. Gradually his words became indiscernible. They blended into a beautiful symphony of sounds that pulled you closer and closer to the sweet oblivion that was sleep. Before you fell, one last promise came from his lips, cutting straight through the fog that had all but enveloped your mind. A solemn vow from Neuvillette to you; on his life, you and he would never be separated like that again. He would be as he wished to be, by your side for all eternity.

To your own contentment, you certainly hoped so.

#yandere genshin x you #yandere!genshin #yandere genshin #yan genshin x reader #yandere genshin impact #yandere neuvillette #neuvillette #genshin neuvillette #genshin impact neuvillette

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thelvsickgirl · 1 month

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Hi Sofia.

I know you know who I am. I keep it anon because I don't want people to know who I am and why Im writing you for.

I know you're a busy person, and you won't respond me in a while, but I just wanted to ask you one thing: Can you please write a Jude fic?

Just one. You know why im asking you this. I know you're an amazing writer, and I just want people to see that as well.

Do it with whatever idea you have in mind, and whenever you feel comfortable doing so.

Thank you.

-🐾

Hey. I definitely know who you are ms. anon. I hope you like it, because it took me several weeks to do. Way longer than i expected this to turn out, but i guess it turned out great.

letting you in.

word count: yes.

tw: a bit of angst, divorced parents, toxic household (kinda)

genres: fluff, angst (not ready to make my debut w smut)

------

: It seems like a perfect relationship, but what will you do when the ghosts of your past haunt you, making your self confidence's walls crumble?

-----

In the heart of a vibrant city, amidst the roar of enthusiastic fans and the energy of the football stadium, there existed a bustling sports bar named "Offside" It was a sanctuary for those seeking the thrill of the game and the camaraderie of fellow supporters. Among its regular patrons was a young woman named y/n, whose passion for football matched that of the most ardent fan.

But Y/n's love for the game wasn't merely a casual interest; it was a lifeline, a refuge from the storms that had raged in her past. Born into a family plagued by dysfunction and discord, y/n had learned from an early age to bury her emotions beneath a façade of strength and resilience. Her parents' tumultuous relationship had cast a shadow over her childhood, leaving her with deep-seated insecurities and a fear of abandonment.

As she navigated the turbulent waters of adolescence, Y/n sought solace in the world of football, finding comfort in the rhythm of the game and the camaraderie of fellow fans. It was on the pitch that she felt truly alive, her worries melting away as she cheered on her favorite team with unwavering devotion.

But despite her outward bravado, y/n carried the scars of her past—a past marked by loss and heartache. Her parents' bitter divorce had shattered her world, leaving her adrift in a sea of uncertainty and despair. And though she tried to bury the pain beneath a veneer of indifference, the wounds remained raw and unhealed, a constant reminder of the fragility of love.

As she entered adulthood, y/n found herself drifting aimlessly, unable to shake the feeling of emptiness that gnawed at her soul. She threw herself into her studies and her job, hoping to distract herself from the turmoil within. But no matter how hard she tried to outrun her demons, they always seemed to catch up with her, dragging her back into the depths of despair.

"Why am I not good enough?"

------

It was on a fateful matchday evening, as y/n sat alone at the sports bar, drowning her sorrows in a sea of beer and cheers, that she first laid eyes on him. Jude Bellingham, the star player of her favorite football team, stood at the bar, his presence commanding the attention of everyone in the room. Despite his fame and fortune, he seemed strangely out of place, his gaze betraying a hint of vulnerability beneath the mask of confidence.

As y/n watched him from afar, a spark of recognition ignited within her—a sense of kinship born from shared struggles and silent battles fought in the shadows. She knew all too well the weight of expectations, the suffocating pressure to conform to society's standards. And though their worlds seemed worlds apart, she couldn't shake the feeling that they were more alike than they appeared.

Summoning her courage, she approached Jude, her heart pounding in her chest. "Hi," she said, her voice trembling slightly. "I'm y/n. Can I buy you a drink?"

To her surprise, Jude smiled gratefully, his eyes lighting up with genuine warmth. "I'd like that," he replied, his voice tinged with relief.

Their conversation flowed effortlessly as they bonded over their shared love for the game, and y/n found herself drawn to Jude in ways she couldn't explain. Despite his celebrity status, he was remarkably down-to-earth, his humility and kindness shining through with every word he spoke. She couldn't stop analysing his chiseled face features, eyeing down every part of him.

As the evening wore on, y/n and Jude discovered a connection that transcended fame and fortune, their shared passion for football forging a bond that felt destined to withstand the test of time. They laughed and joked like old friends, their worries and insecurities melting away in each other's presence.

"This place is way too crowded. Mind to go on a walk?" Jude asked, frowning as some hooligans threw beer jugs to the floor as the local team missed a penalty.

"Please."

With a mischievous grin, Jude led her to a hidden rooftop oasis, where the city skyline stretched out before them in a breathtaking panorama. In a bold and impulsive move, he leaned in, capturing y/n 's lips in a spontaneous kiss—a gesture fueled by the intoxicating rush of the moment.

Though taken aback, the girl felt a surge of exhilaration as their lips met—a whirlwind of emotions colliding in the space between them. And as they lingered in each other's embrace, the city whispered its secrets, weaving their fates together in the tapestry of the night.

----

Their budding relationship blossomed quickly as they explored the city together, attending matches and immersing themselves in the electric atmosphere of the country's stadiums. Jude, ever the gentleman, often surprised y/n with tickets to VIP events and exclusive gatherings, eager to share his world with her.

One memorable evening, the man invited her to join him in the VIP section of his home stadium, a gesture that left her speechless with excitement. As they watched the game from their plush seats, surrounded by the glittering lights of the city skyline, y/n couldn't help but feel like she was living in a dream.

But their moment of bliss was short-lived, as they were soon accosted by paparazzi eager to capture their every move. Flashes of light blinded the girl as reporters bombarded them with questions, their invasive inquiries threatening to shatter the illusion of privacy they had worked so hard to maintain.

Fearing for y/n 's safety, Jude would usually usher her away from the chaos, his protective instincts kicking into overdrive. Despite the intrusion, she couldn't help but feel a surge of gratitude for Jude's unwavering support, his reassuring presence serving as a beacon of hope in the midst of chaos.

As they retreated to the sanctuary of the player's home, y/n found herself overwhelmed by a whirlwind of emotions—gratitude, awe, and an overwhelming sense of love for the remarkable man standing beside her. In that moment, amidst the chaos of the outside world, she knew that she had found something worth fighting for—a love that transcended fame and fortune, a love that was as boundless as the sky above them.

But even as they basked in the glow of their newfound happiness, a shadow loomed on the horizon, threatening to tear them apart. The girl's past, with its ghosts and demons, resurfaced with a vengeance, casting a pall over their relationship.

Haunted by memories of her tumultuous childhood, y/n found herself consumed by doubt and insecurity, her fears driving a wedge between her and Jude. Despite his best efforts to reassure her, she couldn't shake the feeling that she was unworthy of his love—that she was destined to repeat the mistakes of her past.

As tensions simmered between them, Jude struggled to break through y/n's defenses, his heart aching with the knowledge that she was slipping away from him. Desperate to salvage their relationship, he suggested couples therapy, hoping to address the underlying issues that had driven them apart.

Reluctantly, she agreed, her heart heavy with guilt and regret. But as they delved into the depths of their shared history, confronting the traumas that had shaped their lives, she found herself unraveling before his eyes, her carefully constructed walls crumbling beneath the weight of her emotions.

And yet, amidst the tears and the turmoil, there was a glimmer of hope—a flicker of light in the darkness that threatened to consume them. For in each other's arms, they found solace and strength, their love a beacon of hope in a world fraught with uncertainty.

As they emerged from the crucible of therapy, battered but unbroken, y/n and Jude found themselves more deeply in love than ever before. And though their journey was short and had been fraught with challenges and obstacles, they knew that they had emerged stronger and more resilient, their bond forged in the fires of adversity.

And as they stood hand in hand, just cuddled beneath the covers of his bed, the girl knew that she had found her victory—the greatest victory of all: love. And Jude, with a smile that could light up the darkest of nights, knew that he had found something even more precious than fame or fortune—he had found his home in the arms of the woman he loved.

#jude bellingham #jude victor willliam bellingham #sofia’s bar #jude bellingham fanfic #jude bellingham x reader #angst #fluff #jude bellingham fluff #fanfic

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liaromancewriter · 3 months

Text

Daddy’s Girl

Premise: A poignant moment between father and daughter after the poison attack.

Book: Open Heart Pairing: Ethan Ramsey x F!MC (Cassie Valentine); feat. Robert Valentine (OC) Rating/Category: Teen. Angsty Fluff. Words: 1,510

A/N: Submission for @choicesjanuary2024 day 16 prompt "relationships". I'm also using @choicesflashfics week 69, prompt 3

Robert Valentine had a plan. He’d graduate from college, sail around the world and then settle down to live out the Valentine legacy of working in the family business. His father also had a plan, and it featured only two of the three items on his list.

Unable to say no to the strict man who’d raised him, Robert gave up his dream of feeling the wind in his hair on the open seas. A chance encounter in Greenwich during summer break from Wharton further altered his plans.

A year later, he was married to a woman who not only shared his love of adventure but actively encouraged his carefree side. Becoming parents hadn’t been part of the plan, at least not so soon after getting married. But fate had other ideas.

As they stared down at the two tiny humans behind the glass of the nursery at Newport Hospital, he gently hooked one arm around Olivia’s waist. The boy was restless while the girl was asleep, their hands lightly touching.

“They’re beautiful, aren’t they?” Olivia murmured, still tired, her head resting on his shoulder.

Even though they’d known Olivia was carrying multiples, seeing them was a different reality. On top of that, the twins had arrived a month early. They still hadn’t landed on names or completed the nursery in the townhouse they’d bought near his work.

“We should come up with appropriate names,” he said quietly after a while. “Can’t keep calling them Thing One and Thing Two.”

“Imagine the shock on our parents’ faces if we put that on their birth certificates,” Olivia teased, her eyes swimming with laughter.

Robert chuckled, folding his wife in his arms. Being a father would change him; it was inevitable. But he didn’t have to give up his dreams, just adjust them for two more.

Now, all these years later, Robert watched his daughter’s even breathing as she lay sleeping on the hospital bed and wished he could turn back time to when she was a baby, tucked safe and sound in his arms.

The last two days had been harrowing and emotional. The panicked call from his son in the middle of the night, the long flight to Boston from Paris, the uncertainty about Cassie’s condition, and the anger when he and Olivia were denied entrance into the hospital.

But that was all over now, he sighed in relief. His daughter was no longer on death’s door. It would take time, but he’d been assured she would recover. If he thought Cassie wouldn’t be pissed at him for doubting her precious Dr. Ramsey, Robert would’ve whisked her off to the best specialists in the world for a second opinion.

Lost in thought, he didn’t notice Cassie’s eyelids fluttering as she slowly awoke. But he heard her whimpers and the sound of sheets rustling. He was out of the chair and by her bedside seconds before her eyes drifted open.

“Hey, kiddo,” Robert smiled softly, taking her hand.

“Daddy?” Cassie said in a confused tone, her voice reed thin and somewhat raspy.

She struggled to sit up, and he placed a steadying hand on her back while pressing a control button on the guardrail to raise the bed’s head. He adjusted the pillow to support her neck and poured a glass of water when she started coughing.

“Better?”

When she nodded, Robert set the glass down on the table. He turned away to drag the visitor’s chair closer to the bed and sat down, covering her hand with his palm. They smiled at each other, matching green eyes.

“You haven’t called me kiddo since I was ten,” she commented, smiling despite the sudden discomfort under her sternum.

The machines she was hooked up to briefly beeped before settling down as the pain subsided. Robert stroked the back of her hand with his thumb.

“Old habits,” he said, taking his eyes off the flashing numbers on the monitor. “You haven’t called me Daddy since you and Max decided that word was for babies.”

“Well, I feel weak as a baby right now, so that could be the reason,” she joked, and then tears filled her eyes, dripping down her cheeks. “I was so scared I’d never see you or Mom again. ”

Robert leaned in and wiped the tears away with his fingers, shushing her the way he used to when she was five and had a nightmare.

“When I was in that room, all I could think of was the last time you took us sailing,” she continued in a watery voice. “It was just before I moved to Boston. The fresh ocean breeze tossing my hair, the taste of salt on our lips as water crashed around us. Max cursing as the unruly waves rocked the boat and almost tipped us over. Your laughter booming in the wind. That feeling of truly being alive.”

Leaving the chair, he sat on the side of the bed and folded her into his arms, mindful of the drip lines and wires.

“You are alive, Cassie honey,” he whispered over and over as sobs wracked her body, and she burrowed her face into his chest. “You’re here, safe in my arms.”

Eventually, the storm passed, and he returned to his seat. The comforting silence stretched, broken only by the beeps and hums of the machines.

“Where’s Mom?”

“At the hotel, hopefully getting some rest,” Robert explained. “She barely slept these last couple of days. Max, too. Your brother pretends to be invincible, but he was running on fumes by the time we got here.”

“Maybe if he drank coffee every now and then,” Cassie said with a wry twist of her lips.

Robert shook his head in amusement and chuckled, well familiar with his children’s opposing views on this matter and their needling of each other as a result.

“Have you seen Ethan?”

“Yes, he dropped by an hour ago to check on you,” Robert replied, hiding his disquiet at how Cassie’s eyes locked on the closed door, waiting for the other man to walk in.

He steepled his index fingers under his chin as he sprawled on the chair, stretching his legs out under the bed. “I take it you’re both still hiding your relationship?”

Robert was glad Cassie at least had the good sense to look abashed. He wasn’t happy with the turn of events, but his wife was convinced it was the real deal and they should give the couple space to work it out. Olivia’s instincts were flawless, which was the only reason he exercised restraint.

“What do you think of him?” she asked, her eyes beseeching him to understand. “You didn’t say anything during or after the weekend in Newport. I really want you to like him, Daddy.”

“He’s certainly different from Jackson or anyone else you’ve dated before,” he said neutrally. “Older, reserved, and perhaps a little austere for my carefree daughter.”

“That’s just the side he shows everyone else,” Cassie said, her voice full of conviction. “He’s different when it’s just the two of us. Granted, our relationship is still evolving, but he cares for me, deeply.”

“I know, Cassie,” Robert said, remembering the tender look in the other man’s eyes earlier. “This isn’t up for debate. But as your father, I’m allowed to be concerned. Gossip from a workplace romance is rarely kind to the woman, especially when there’s a power imbalance.”

He held up a hand when she opened her mouth to protest. “You still have two years left in your training here. All I ask is that you be careful and protect your reputation if not your heart.”

Before Cassie could respond, there was a perfunctory knock on the door, and then it swung open. Ethan Ramsey crossed the threshold and suddenly stopped, causing the nurse accompanying him to crash into his back, the tray in her hand rattling before she steadied it.

“Sorry to interrupt,” Ethan said, his brows furrowing as if sensing he’d stepped into a quagmire. “We need to draw Dr. Valentine’s blood, check her vitals and run a few tests.”

“Yes, of course,” he said, pushing the chair back and standing up. “I’ll let you get on with it while I grab a coffee and check in on Olivia.”

Robert turned to smile down at Cassie. “Why don’t I get you something to eat?”

“Well, I am feeling a bit peckish,” Cassie mused, a teasing twinkle in her eyes. “Hospital food sucks.”

“I’ll ask the chef at the hotel to whip up your favorites.” Robert leaned down and kissed her forehead. “Be good, and no more heroics.”

He nodded at Ethan, who came to stand across from him on the other side of the bed. He noted the softness in Cassie’s eyes, the concern in Ethan’s and felt like a third wheel.

As Robert left the room, he glanced at the nurse, oblivious to their situation, and hoped Cassie heeded his advice. Ethan seemed decent enough, but if he hurt Cassie…. Well, when it came to his children, all bets were off.

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

All Fics & Edits: @bluebelle08 @coffeeheartaddict2 @crazy-loca-blog @lucy-268 @jerzwriter @lady-calypso @mainstreetreader @peonierose @potionsprefect @queencarb @quixoticdreamer16 @rookiemartin @socalwriterbee @tessa-liam @trappedinfanfiction

Submissions: @choicesficwriterscreations @openheartfanfics

Ethan & Cassie only: @cariantha @custaroonie @youlookappropriate @zealouscanonindeer

#open heart #ethan ramsey #ethan ramsey x mc #open heart choices #choices fic writers creations #cfwc fics of the week #open heart fanfics #open heart fanfiction #choices fanfics #choices fanfiction #ethan ramsey x cassie valentine

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jonjalsonny · 4 months

Text

Treasure

please, listen to "Treasure" by CLEW and PAME while reading 🤍

GENDER NEUTRAL Y/N

As the sun dipped below the horizon, casting a warm, golden glow on the calm beach of Bali, you found yourself on the porch of the intimate villa Sonny had booked for your romantic escape. A gentle breeze played with your hair, carrying the soothing melodies of "Treasure" by CLEW and PAME playing softly in the background. Wrapped in Sonny's arms, the serene ambiance and the picturesque surroundings combined to create a moment of sheer joy, as if you were suspended in time.

His strong embrace pulled you closer and you could feel his heartbeat creating a comforting rhythm against your back. Swaying together, the outside world seemed to fade away, leaving only the two of you in a secluded sanctuary of love.

The song's lyrics escaped Sonny's lips in a tender whisper, caressing your ear like a sweet serenade. "I'm yours, you're mine," he murmured with sincerity and affection. Those simple words resonated deeply, affirming the unbreakable bond you shared that had blossomed over the past two years.

Leaning back into his warmth, you admired the breathtaking panorama. The crystal-clear sea met the pristine sand, and the rhythmic waves provided a melodic accompaniment to your dance, serenading your souls entwined in love.

The setting sun painted the sky in hues of orange, pink, and purple, casting a romantic glow. The air carried the fragrance of tropical blooms, and the distant calls of exotic birds added to the enchantment, creating a natural symphony.

Swaying in Sonny's embrace, gratitude washed over you for this idyllic moment—a rare gift away from the outside world. In this secluded haven, your focus was solely on each other, nurturing your love and crafting cherished memories.

Sonny's warm embrace and whispered words enveloped you in a cocoon of love, shielding you from worries. In his arms, you felt secure, cherished, and profoundly loved. The connection between you grew with every sway and whispered lyric, reminiscent of the ceaseless waves crashing against the shore.

As the final notes of the song drifted away, you turned in Sonny's arms, exchanging a radiant smile. His eyes, filled with adoration, locked with yours, and in that instant, you knew your love story would unfold, weaving through the tapestry of your lives.

Hand in hand, you descended from the porch, strolling toward the beach where the waves tenderly met the shore. The future held uncertainties, but surrounded by nature's beauty and the love that bound you, a sense of infinite possibilities washed over you. As the sun dipped below the horizon, painting the sky in vibrant colors, you were certain your love, akin to the treasure you both were to each other, would shine brighter with each passing day.

#son heung min #tottenham hotspur #thfc #heungmin son #son heungmin #heung min son #bf! sonny #sonny #spurs #son heung min imagines #footballer x reader #footballer imagine #premier league

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atinycafe · 11 months

Text

LIME SORBET — ch 01 [jetlag]

PROMPT; reader finally comes back to s. korea as she finished her training in los angeles, ready to debut as a solo artist under kq ent! exciting right? well her sunbaes seem to like that idea too.

FEAT; alpha!ateez x omega!idol!reader, platonic!beta!maddox x reader (joong + san + woo focus)

IN THIS CHAPTER; reader just lands in s. korea and maddox is here to drive her home, but who are those men next to him?

WRD COUNT; 2.7k

NOTES; this takes place during the inception era, so joong has blue hair yas!! + it's so sweeeeet, the boys r like so quick 2 b attracted 2 her it's crazy + reader is oblivious so it's a slay, make the boys work 4 ur lov!! + soulmates r mentionned + kyungmoon is maddox korean name btw

TAGLIST; no one yet! lmk if you want 2 b added!

She cracked her neck as she descended from her flight, a mix of exhaustion and excitement coursing through her veins. This moment marked a new chapter, creating a tale of unforeseen beginnings in the young omega's life. The long journey from LA to Seoul had left her weary, but the anticipation of commencing her new career kept her spirits high.

Stepping into the bustling airport, she inhaled the unfamiliar scents and absorbed the vibrant energy surrounding her. The girl's eyes darted around, searching for her dear friend Kyungmoon amid the sea of faces. Her heart fluttered with impatience as minutes turned into what felt like hours. Uncertainty gnawed at her, turning her usual sweet citrusy scent bitter, but she remained optimistic, trusting that her friend would show up soon. Oblivious to the fact that the beta had brought along some of his alpha companions, she stood there, a vision of beauty in her own right, radiating an air of independence and grace.

As she waited, the omega's thoughts drifted to the adventures that awaited her in Seoul. She envisioned exploring the bustling city streets, indulging in delectable Korean cuisine, and immersing herself in the rich culture once again. She truly had missed her country. Her eyes sparkled with a sense of wanderlust as she remembered her peripeteias that lead her to where she was. She had finally finished her trainee period after two long years in dance studios, vocal classes and many other categories. She was ready to start her career. She deserved it after all the hard work, her efforts and labor standing as undeniable testament to her dedication and perseverance.

Though weariness tugged persistently at her spirit, the omega's appearance remained steadfastly impeccable. Cascading in resplendent disarray, her tousled hair wove loose waves down her shoulders, adorning her delicate features like tendrils of moonlight. Draped in a long bodycon dress, its fabric sculpting her figure with grace, she defied the constraints of fatigue, radiating an air of confidence and allure. A subtle contradiction played out in her fashion choice, for atop her form-fitting attire, she had donned a baggy jacket, its oversized silhouette serving as a symbol of comfort and nonchalant elegance. Amidst this unique combination of clothing, she exuded an irresistible charm that commanded attention, captivating the gazes and stirring admiration among those fortunate enough to lay their eyes upon her. People couldn't help but be drawn to her presence, both because of her striking beauty and the rarity of her being an omega, a presence often regarded with fascination and reverence.

Moreover, it was not only her visual allure that captured the fascination of those around her, but also the enchanting scent that accompanied her presence. A subtle yet distinct aroma, reminiscent of sweet limes and fresh blossoms, wafted delicately through the air, leaving a trail of intrigue in its wake. It was as if her very essence, an olfactory symphony of citrusy notes, beckoned passersby to linger a moment longer, their senses entangled in the intoxicating allure. Strangers found themselves inexplicably drawn to her, compelled to bask in the delightful fragrance that emanated from her being, an ethereal fragrance that added an enchanting layer to her already mesmerizing aura.

With an impatient sigh, the omega decided it was time to venture beyond the confines of the bustling airport and seek out her cherished friend Maddox. As she stepped outside, her gaze scanned the area, searching eagerly for his familiar face amidst the crowd of unfamiliar faces.

And then, there he was, standing a short distance away, looking as anxious and excited as she felt. In that moment, time seemed to stand still.

Without a second thought, she broke into a sprint, her fatigue momentarily forgotten as she closed the distance between them. The world blurred around her as she ran towards Kyungmoon, her heart pounding in her chest. And then, as they finally met, she flung her arms around him, enveloping him in a tight embrace, two years' worth of separation melting away in an instant. Their reunion was a testament to the unbreakable bond they shared, a bond that had weathered the test of time and distance.

[flashback] As the grueling session of vocal lessons came to an end, Maddox and the omega sought refuge in the comfort of the practice room, their laughter echoing through the air. They had formed a unique bond, a sibling-like connection that went beyond mere friendship. Leaning against the wall, their tired expressions softened into smiles as they exchanged stories and shared the challenges and triumphs of their day. Their conversation flowed effortlessly, a testament to the ease and comfort they found in each other's presence. Maddox affectionately nudged the omega's shoulder, his eyes sparkling with pride. "You were really good today!" he exclaimed, his voice brimming with genuine admiration. "Your voice soared to new heights, you just might be a new rival to Jongho." Jongho. The maknae of the rookie group ATEEZ, who had just debuted as she got accepted in the KQent. Blushing, the omega grinned, appreciating Maddox's unwavering support. "Stooop," she whined, her voice brimming with heartfelt appreciation. "I could never, did you hear him, I think his voice goes higher than mine. And he's an alpha!" she laughed out loud. In the warmth of their bond, there was an unspoken understanding. They were there for each other, offering guidance and encouragement through thick and thin. Their connection was like a secret language, understood only by them. In that precious moment, their laughter mixed with the profound harmony of their connection, creating a sanctuary of unwavering support and affection. Their bond, nurtured through their unspoken understanding, would guide them as they embarked on their respective journeys, with Maddox serving as a mentor who inspired the omega to reach for the stars. [end of flashback]

Lost in their joyous embrace, the omega remained oblivious to the presence of the alphas behind Maddox. Their eyes, however, were fixed upon her, captivated by the intensity of the moment. The alphas observed the way she clung to Maddox, the genuine affection evident in her embrace. They couldn't help but be drawn to her, not just because of her pretty eyes, pretty smile, cute nose, rosy cheeks, sweet scent (okay, maybe because she was super cute) but also because her pure and unguarded emotions seemed to shimmer like a beacon in the surrounding chaos.

For a fleeting moment, the alphas exchanged glances, silently acknowledging the undeniable connection that had formed between them and the enchanting omega. Their curiosity stirred, they watched as the omega finally pulled away from Maddox, her eyes shining with unbridled happiness. It was a scene they couldn't tear their gazes away from, as if destiny itself had orchestrated their convergence in that very moment.

As the omega and Maddox finally reunited, their excitement bubbled over, and they couldn't contain their joy. Squealing with delight, they spoke in rapid succession, their words overlapping in a familiar language only they could understand. Their conversation was a whirlwind of inside jokes, memories, and declarations of how much they had missed each other.

Meanwhile, the alphas observed this lively exchange, their thoughts intertwining in a silent symphony. Their telepathic dialogue unfolded, each alpha offering their own perspective on the omega's magnetic presence and her undeniable connection with Maddox.

"Look at her," the shortest alpha with blue hair mused, his thoughts colored with admiration for the omega's vibrant energy.

"They seem close," another alpha with soft dimples chimed in, his inner voice tinged with slight envy and covetousness. Despite him only thinking it, he couldn't help the subtle pout forming on his pink lips

The third alpha, faintly tanned and with moles adorning his face, joined the conversation, his thoughts filled with playful mischief. "Sanni~ slow down, you're going from zero to 'head over heels' in record time" he mused, unable to resist a lighthearted teasing.

At the comment 'Sanni' rolled his eyes and nudged his friend with his elbow, "Wooyoung, why are you acting like I literally can't hear your thoughts," he retorted. The blue haired man let out a "Gotcha!" at the back of their minds, still not leaving the sweet girl out of his eyes.

"Yah! Hongjoong!" Wooyoung let out a scream, wide eyes on his leader as he faked a jab to his shoulder. At the scream, both Maddox and the young girl turn to look at them.

"Are you crazy? Why are you screaming my name like that in the middle of the airport, what if people recognize us?" Hongjoong actually turned to punch him in the side of his chest, making the boy crouch down dramatically, letting a small "Leader whyyy". She giggles.

The girl's melodious laughter caught the attention of all three alphas, their thoughts momentarily distracted from their playful banter. All captivated by the sound that seemed to weave its way into their very souls.

They couldn't help but be enchanted by the girl's laughter. It danced in their ears, like a sweet melody that stirred something deep within them. Wooyoung's mischievous nature momentarily forgotten, he found himself drawn to the sound, eager to be the one to elicit such joyous expressions.

San, the alpha with dimples, also couldn't resist the infectious nature of her laughter. His negligible jealousy momentarily subsided as he found himself captivated by the genuine happiness radiating from her. He couldn't help but wonder if he could be the one to bring forth that laughter, to witness it blossom like a delicate flower under his playful antics.

Hongjoong observed the interaction between the girl and his pack brothers, a spark of curiosity flickering in his eyes. Her laughter had reached his ears, echoing like a symphony in the vastness of his mind. Being the astute and perceptive leader of the pack, he observed his fellow members, as they surreptitiously stole glances at the captivating omega. He could sense the whirlwind of thoughts and emotions stirring within them, their minds ablaze with curiosity and desire. Though they had tried to mask their reactions, Hongjoong, with his keen senses, easily picked up on their telltale signs.

Inwardly, he made a mental note to have a conversation with his pack members about the growing attraction they felt towards the omega.

Yes, she was cute.

Yes, she was lovely.

Yes, she was to die for.

But as the leader of his pack, it was his responsibility to ensure a harmonious and respectful dynamic within the pack. He understood the tumultuous nature of desires, especially when it concerned an omega as enchanting as the one before them. It was essential to address their feelings and establish clear boundaries to maintain a healthy pack environment.

As Maddox and the girl turned their attention towards them, the alphas quickly regained their composure, their expressions shifting to a mixture of nonchalance and amusement. San straightened up, flashing a charming smile, while Hongjoong offered a nod of acknowledgment. Wooyoung, on the other hand, had a mischievous glint in his eyes, a playful smirk playing at the corners of his lips.

Caught off guard by their sudden interaction, the girl's eyes widened in surprise, her laughter faded into a shy smile. The alphas exchanged a brief moment of silent telepathy, their thoughts entwined like a delicate dance. There was a palpable tension in the air, a recognition of the magnetism that seemed to draw them together.

For pete's sake! Have they never met an omega before? Well, they sure are acting like it. Hongjoong pondered the question that lingered in his mind: What was it about this particular omega that had stirred such unprecedented reactions among his pack members — not wanting to admit it but him too? As he considered the extraordinary reactions of his pack brothers towards the omega, a realization dawned upon him. The intensity of their responses, the unspoken connection they felt with her, and the sheer magnetism she exuded— all pointed towards one possibility: she might be their mate.

The concept of a mate held deep significance within their society. It represented a soulful connection, a bond that transcended mere friendship or attraction. A mate was someone who completed and complemented them, a partner with whom they could forge an unbreakable union.

The discovery of mates was a rare and treasured occurrence. It was a phenomenon that went beyond the realm of simple probability and statistics. Finding a mate was not an everyday experience; it was a rare alignment of fate and destiny, where the threads of souls intertwined in a way that defied logic and explanation. The process of recognizing a mate required a profound connection, a resonance that transcended superficial attraction and ran deeper than physical or emotional compatibility.

As the notion of the omega potentially being his mate settled in Hongjoong's mind, a sense of giddiness and excitement surged within him. It was as if a surge of euphoria coursed through his veins, heightening his senses and setting his heart aflutter. The mere thought of sharing a deep, intimate bond with someone so captivating and beautiful was both exhilarating and humbling.

In the depth of his admiration for her, Hongjoong found himself captivated by her every feature. From her pretty eyes that sparkled with joy and curiosity, to her sweet smile that could light up a room. Every aspect of her appearance seemed to align perfectly with his own preferences and desires, making him feel as if she were custom-made to captivate his hear—

"-oong"

"Hongjoong"

"Hongjoong! Help us carry this!"

Startled out of his reverie, Hongjoong blinked rapidly as Maddox's words registered in his mind. He quickly snapped back to reality, realizing that he had momentarily drifted off into his own thoughts, consumed by the sweet girl.

Shaking off the lingering daze, Hongjoong flashed a sheepish smile at Maddox, his eyes filled with a mixture of excitement and distraction. "Sorry, lost in my own world for a moment there," he chuckled, his voice betraying the remnants of his giddy state.

Without further delay, Hongjoong sprang into action, his focus shifting from his inner musings to the immediate task at hand. He joined the boys in attending to the luggage, the weight of his thoughts momentarily set aside as he dedicated himself to practical matters.

"Oh let me help"

As the words left the omega's lips, a collective chorus of panicked voices erupted from the alphas. "No!" they exclaimed in unison, their expressions a mix of alarm and concern. Startled by their sudden outburst, the omega blinked in confusion, her eyebrows furrowing. Even Kyungmoon cast odd glances at them from the background.

Before she could utter a word, however, the alphas quickly composed themselves, their sheepish expressions replacing the initial panic. They exchanged glances, silently communicating their shared decision, and then turned to face the omega with reassuring smiles.

"Actually, it's fine," Maddox spoke up, his voice calm but tinged with a hint of amusement, seemingly aware of why the alphas were acting in a such peculiar way. Well, she was a pretty girl, and they sure have been working hard on their comeback, not really having the time for contact with the opposite gender. "The car is just right around the corner. We've got it under control, don't worry."

Hongjoong nodded in agreement, a gentle smile playing on his lips. "We appreciate your offer, but we've got everything covered. Just leave the heavy lifting to us," he said, his tone warm and reassuring.

Wooyoung and San chimed in, their voices filled with genuine appreciation. "You've already traveled a long way. We don't want you to tire yourself out even more," Wooyoung explained, his eyes filled with concern.

San nodded in agreement, his voice soft and earnest. "Maddox brought us here to help you. Let us handle the logistics while you relax and enjoy the moment." He softly pats the omega's head, his other hand lifting the heavy luggage, making his bicep bulge.

The omega's confusion gradually transformed into a smile, touched by their thoughtfulness and protective nature. "Alright," she relented, her voice filled with gratitude. "Thank you, guys."

With that, the group began to make their way towards the car, the alphas leading the way while Maddox walked alongside the omega, offering light conversation. As they approached the waiting vehicle, Hongjoong couldn't help but steal glances at the omega, his gaze filled with a newfound appreciation. The anticipation of what their connection could mean lingered in the back of his mind, fueling his determination to be present and supportive during this pivotal time as trivial as it may be. He knew there would be opportunities to explore the depth of their bond, but for now, he would channel his excitement into being reliable, puffing his chest and all. Ah alphas and their ego~

[next]

#lime sorbet #ateez #hongjoong #seonghwa #mingi #yunho #yeosang #san #wooyoung #jongho #omegaverse #x reader #poly #reverse harem #soulmate #fluff

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yrluvjane · 11 months

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𝒀𝒐𝒖𝒓 𝒍𝒐𝒗𝒆 𝒊𝒔 𝒃𝒆𝒕𝒕𝒆𝒓 𝒕𝒉𝒂𝒏 𝒈𝒐𝒍𝒅 𝑰𝑰

[old money] James x fem!reader

《 Summary - James deals with feelings, and you fall ill after hearing the rumours spread about you of the day before, leaving you under his care.》

𝐒𝐞𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐬 𝐋𝐢𝐬𝐭

He was stuck in this limbo of uncertainty, unsure of what to do and who to be. The only thing he knew for sure was that he wanted something more, something different, something like you.

As the door opened, the noise of the crowded office poured in, threatening to disrupt the peace and quiet of his own space. With a deep sigh, he took a deep breath and listened.

“It’s your dad.” She says.

And so James decides to share his moment with you with his father, feeling a sense of relief as he does so.

The moment his son is done talking, Fleamont turns to his wife, full knowing she will be very interested in what he’s about to say. “What is it, Fleamont? Is he alright?”

"She's like a sunrise on a cold winter morning - she just lights up the whole room. Though very direct and sharp, definitely not someone you'd want to go head to head with."

"Ever smelled Jasmines before? Bloody irresistible. It's like she's walking around with a bouquets of them,"

No one speaks to you.

They avoid your eyes and whisper to each other in hushed tones. You try to break the silence with a cheerful, "Hey, good morning," but no one responds.

All they do is mutter and shoot you dirty looks and it may be the dramatic side of your brain talking but it almost felt like the whole world was against you, and you don't know what you did.

It's like you're a ghost, invisible and repelling all forms of life.

You feel like you could scream. Why is everyone treating you like this?

Mary turns to look at you, her eyes lighting up with kindness. "Of course, what's up?" She sends a soft smile at you, warm and welcoming a contrast to how everyone has been to you.

“Need help with something?” You offer. If your voice was once a warm fire that encouraged laughs and jokes then now it was an icicle, just as cold, just as sharp.

"That’s bullshit," you say breathlessly, it almost comes out like a silent whisper, "Nothing happened. The flower pot he gave me was a leftover from the stock bought to decorate the pool."

So you heard it right.

“I know.” She says softly into your ear.

And then, just as suddenly as it started, everything goes black, and you lose consciousness.

You blink your eyes open, and you feel a sense of disorientation as you try to adjust to your situation.

You hear a soft knock on the door, and you groan and yawn as you roll over to your side, stretching like a cat as you rub the sleep from your eyes. You couldn't help but feel the usual sense of tiredness as you slowly started to rise; your body feeling sluggish and tired. You looked at the clock and realized that you had slept again and this time for hours and it was already the evening. “Come in!” You say, eyes trained on the ticking clock as you jolt up.

"How are you feeling? Are you okay? Do you need me to call a doctor?"

Your words come out weak and hoarse, but you manage to get the message across. "No, I just... I feel dizzy, and my head hurts," you say, closing your eyes, hoping for the room to stop spinning.

Oh my God, stop it! You chastise yourself.

James smiles back, "I'm glad to hear that. Would you like anything else? Some fruit maybe, or some more tea? I just want to make sure you're comfortable."

"I’m good," you say, smiling awkwardly. "Thank you."

He raises a brow, unconvinced with your answer.

"Just some work-related stress."

James's gaze was focused on you, his face a picture of concern. "Well, if you ever do need anything, I'm here for you," he assured you, his voice soft and comforting.

“Thank you, Mr–”

“James...please. Call me James.”

With a heavy sigh, James continued, his voice softer now as he sat down on the edge of the bed. "Look, I understand that this isn't ideal. But I promise you, you're safe here.”

"Then at least let me drive you home."

The tension between you is palpable, and you wonder what James is thinking. Is he as nervous as you are? Is he trying to work out what to say to you?

“Thank you.” You say into the silence. It's a small comfort, but in that moment, it means the world to you.

“A thank you.” You say and James involuntarily smiles at the gift, shaking his head. “Can’t take it,”

“You’re welcome.” You breathe out and even though the conversation is over, you both still stand there like birds on a traffic stop waiting for the other to say or do something.

For a moment, the silence is awkward, and you're not sure of what action to take. But then, James breaks it.

"... I've been thinking about you a lot lately. I don't know why, but for some reason, I just am"

James senses your apprehension, and he stops in his tracks. He looks at you with a mixture of concern and understanding, as if he knows exactly what you're feeling.

"Is something wrong?" he asks gently.

James nods, "That's ok," he says quietly. "We don't have to rush into anything. We can take it slow, if that's what you want."

As he draws apart, you feel a sense of relief and happiness wash over you, like drinking chilled water after you've just finished a marathon.

“Feel better, okay?”

《PREVIOUS PART》《NEXT PART》

Tagging: @sssstarstruck @cloudroomblog @ietss @kquil @arctvrvs @loving-and-dreaming @enamoredofbella @astonishment @empath-bunny @white-wolf-buckaroo @semi-tuned

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zzoguri · 8 months

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somehow, i'll gather the stars just for you ➵ jacob bae

non-idol!jacob bae x reader

even in the nights where the stars refuse to show themselves, jacob will round them up just for you.

general genre/warnings ➵ fluff, light angst and hurt/comfort, gender neutral reader, lowercase intended, established relationship, sort of reader-centric because oof you do have problems (but we never dive into them)!, talks about constellations and stargazing, set on the beach (hence why it's part of the event), overall very soft and caring and understanding boyfriend!jacob ever, kissing, cuddling

word count ➵ 1.7k words

taglist ➵ @deoboyznet @kflixnet @blankjournal @winterchimez @miusgirl @jenoscafe @sweet-unicorn-world @mosviqu @vernyangel

playlist ➵ tila tala by syd hartha // where the sea sleeps by day6 (even of day)

a/n ➵ wrote this on a whim again. i have a tendency to write drabbles like these when i feel kinda :// but i am glad to say i am finally making my submission for deoboyznet's summer for you event!! i hope you enjoy this cute jacob drabble for the time being :]]

want to be part of my taglist? send me an ask! masterlist

the air smells of salt and burning wood. your eyes remain closed as the crackling coming from the bonfire fills your ears. the saltwater breeze hits your cheeks, stinging them like always.

you consider this beach a safe place from any storm—a getaway car from turmoil in every corner of your life. all away from the city that brings you nothing but stress and uncertainty, the beach will do nothing but bring you comfort.

and tonight should be like every other; the ocean would meet with the shore in intervals; the whispers of the wind are meant to be loud, mumbling melodies you never hear amid heavy traffic, and; there should be a sea of stars around the moon that glows, forming constellations you know the names of all around it.

but when there's no celestial body in sight, you realize that tonight's plans will not push through.

"this is the first time i've seen the sky filled with nothing but clouds," your boyfriend, jacob, voices out. your eyes open as you take a quick side glance at the boy beside you. "from the beach, at least"

you rip your eyes away from him only to be met with a sky that has not changed. tonight was meant for stargazing. but the one night you two finally settled on had to be one that was not made for you both.

the starry night should come—this type of occurrence has never happened in the years you spent going to this beach. so why, out of all times, did the stars refuse to show now?

jacob wraps his arm around your waist, pulling you close so that your body can rest on his. your back is supported by his torso as his chin rests on your shoulder. a small sigh leaves your lips as your eyes drift back down to the body of water behind the bonfire that glows in front of you.

"i'm sorry tonight didn't turn out as planned." jacob's whisper is almost inaudible. "i'm sure the next time will have as many constellations drawn up in the sky—ones you know the names of, of course." you know it's his attempt to lighten up the sour mood you had since leaving the city with him.

he's always been the understanding type—the one to let you feel whatever you wanted to feel, and share whatever you were comfortable enough to share. but he never fails to remind you that he's there; offer you an ear to listen to you; act as your shoulder to cry on, and; share with you words that you need to hear at any given moment.

you swallow the lump in your throat, "we spent so long trying to find one night that works for us only to be met with a starless sky." you then stare at the orange glow that emits from the burning wood. "i can't believe this is the first time this is happening, a night with no star in sight, on the day we wanted to finally stargaze together."

and it should be a small thing to be upset about—a moment to be bummed out about but easy enough to bounce back from. but the reason you're at this beach tonight is the same reason why you always find yourself leaving the city in the first place.

jacob continues to draw unrecognizable patterns on your arm. "what do you think that is?" his question has you looking at him, eyebrows furrowed in confusion. "do you want me to draw it again?"

when you give him a nod, he repeats his actions, tracing out four imaginary lines on your skin you cannot make a figure out of. your eyebrows remain furrowed at him, only making him slip out a chuckle.

"i'll give you a hint; it's a constellation."

you feel yourself pout at his words. despite any ruined plans, he never fails to find a way to make any night turn in the right direction.

without any answer leaving your lips, jacob shows you a teasing look. "don't tell me you don't know your constellation when you dragged me out to the beach this late into the night." when you bump your shoulder against his chest, he lets out a giggle. "okay, i'll do it one more time. if you don't know it, i'm about to believe you don't know your astronomy after all."

he draws the pattern once more. the sensation resembles the letter "w" with wide spaces in between. and you spend your time rattling through your brain, only to figure out what he was trying to draw. "is it cassiopeia?"

he smiles at your answer and says, "wow, you know your stars!" he quickly gives you a peck on the lips, catching you by surprise at the sudden action. your flustered expression only has him smiling bigger. "think of that as a prize."

you roll your eyes. "i didn't know you knew your constellations. i was planning to show off astronomy knowledge in real-time versus having you pull out pictures and me telling you the names of each one."

"that's all i remember, really," he admits as he continues to draw patterns on your arms. at this point, you aren't sure if he's trying to draw out more constellations for you to guess or if he's simply tracing for fun. "if i remembered more, i would have let you guess all the ones i knew. it would be our way of stargazing without the stars themselves."

your heartstrings tug at his words. no matter what the world brings to shatter you, there will always be one boy who never fails to look out for you.

you let your hands reach out towards him. "give me your hand." jacob moves his hand away from the sand and lets it rest on yours. with his palm facing up, you bring your free hand to his hand. "this is," your index finger draws out a small box with a long tail. "the small dipper."

his head tilts to the side, eyebrows furrowed at what you had just drawn. "what? can you do it again? it feels like a badly drawn tadpole."

"tadpole?" you scoff, taken back by his comment. "that's the small dipper!"

you draw it out once more, only for him to hum. "sure, i guess." once you gasp at his words, he cannot help but giggle. a pout rests on your lips over his comment. "i'm just kidding! come on, show me more."

you glare at jacob for a moment. "don't make fun of my drawings then!"

"i won't," he says before he nuzzles his face into your shoulder, leaving a long kiss. "teach me about these constellations."

and so the night goes on. you show him ones as simple as scutum and ones as complex as orion. while jacob found himself just nodding at your words with no clear idea of how these constellations actually looked like, he still liked to hear you ramble about these star patterns typically found in the sky.

he notices how you slowly found yourself brightening up over sharing your knowledge of astronomy. from how reserved you were before getting into his car, he now sees the same person who cannot help but ramble over their love for the celestial bodies.

"and this is," you draw a pattern you remember by heart. "gemini." jacob smiles at how you decide to show him what his star sign's constellation is. "it's one of my favorite ones, actually."

"it is?"

you let out a hum as you look at his hand where your index finger rests. "if you look closely, it resembles two people." you draw out the pattern once more. as soon as your eyes meet his face, you notice how his expression shifts into realization.

"wow, it does," he smiles as he looks down at his hand that you continue to draw on. "it resembles us."

you roll your eyes over his words. "jacob, that's not what it means, but okay."

your boyfriend cannot help but move his hand off of yours, bringing you closer for a cuddle. "yeah, but still. let me make whatever i want with those stars you love." he leaves you another kiss on the cheek. "besides, i want to make everything about you and us." you cannot help but smile at his affection, your eyes resting on the wood that continues to burn.

despite tonight's events (and the reason why you needed to get out of the city), jacob found a way to make you feel better. without uttering a word, he knew exactly what to do to save tonight. and somehow, you are almost glad that the stars decided to not show up—tonight's events turned out to be cuter than actual stargazing.

"thank you," you whisper out. "for trying to make tonight better." when you move your head to face him, you notice that his eyes are already on you.

he shows you a soft smile—one that never fails to fill your heart with warmth. "i just want you to know i'm always here. i'll be anything you want me to be, just so long as we'll both be okay."

you cannot help but let your face move closer to his. as soon as your eyes close, you move forward until your forehead rests on his. you can feel his breath graze over your lips. and with a moment to breathe, you say, "i'm glad i have you. even in times when everything went wrong, i'm happy that you were always there."

"of course," his hand reaches out to rest on the side of your face. and when his thumb starts to draw imaginary lines on your cheek, you cannot help but smile. he traces out what you can only think of as the constellation of gemini. "just like what i drew on your cheek, i'll make sure we'll always be together. i'll be sure to engrave it there like how you did on my hand. that way, we know that it forever remains somewhere, even if the starry night may not show it."

and just like that, you let yourself close the distance between you two, lips locking with the boy who never fails to know what to do in every distraught moment.

tonight's events may not have gone as planned, and the beach may not have become the place you were hoping for it to be when you desperately needed it. but for you, jacob is more than what the beach and its starry night can provide. on starless nights, he would round up the stars just for you, somehow.

if you liked this, please do reblog and leave feedback!

#zzoguri works #deoboyznet #kflixnet #bjnet #k-labels #dbn: summer on you #the boyz #jacob bae #the boyz x reader #the boyz imagines #jacob bae x reader #jacob bae angst #jacob x reader #jacob bae imagines #the boyz angst

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