Tumgik
#solidifying our bond
teathattast · 17 days
Text
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
i wanted to see the world in color
through your eyes and through your mind
i think that i like to sit and wonder
through the night, i think i might
57 notes · View notes
purplepenntapus · 5 months
Text
I’m so torn on The One Piece because on the one hand, if it turns out good I’m so excited for the possibility of a well paced anime/ even more new fans finding it more accessible to get into the anime. But on the other hand if they adapt it totally from the manga I’ll miss some of the anime only stuff that I find really fun LMAO
4 notes · View notes
kuiperror · 8 months
Text
"omg im literally in love with statistics ^^" i say. you roll your eyes at the incorrect usage of literally. but i meant it, every word. i flash a circular diamond ring, the shape of a pie graph. "we're getting married on thursday"
3 notes · View notes
ajdrawshq · 1 year
Text
playing persona 5 back in freshman year vs playing p5r abt 3 years after graduating is. an experience. bro these are KIDS
4 notes · View notes
newjenns · 2 years
Note
i think jan needs to stay on limited data through the rest of lore just for the sake of your friendship
janogie and will be just fine ! 😊
3 notes · View notes
dwobbitfromtheshire · 6 months
Text
I'm clearing out my draft folder again.
Steve and Robin were running through Starcourt, high as fuck when Steve skidded to a stop in front of Eddie Munson.
"You look like Eddie Munson," Steve giggled.
"Steve!" Robin said with wide eyes. "I think that is - "
"Man, what happened to your face?" Eddie asked.
"Funny story, can you keep a secret from Eddie?" Steve said seriously.
"Sure," Eddie grinned.
"No, Steve, that's - ,"
"ANYWAY," Steve rolled his eyes at Robin. "I had this crush on him in freshman year. Do you think I should tell him?"
"Uh - are you guys on drugs?" Eddie asked.
"YES! But we didn't want to," Robin said. "They wanted information."
"Aw, fuck, there's this guy that works with Rick. Real sketchy. I told him he needs to let him go before he gets Rick into trouble, but does Rick listen to me? Nah!" Eddie exclaimed. "Look, whatever the hell he gave you should wear off. Not all drug dealers are like that. What we pitch to you is what you get. What you want is what you get. Okay, let's get you guys to the bathroom and try to get it out of your system. Come on."
"I'm going to tell Eddie," Steve said with a grin. "Shh! Wait here. I'll tell you how it goes."
Steve ran off with Robin on his tail. Eddie cursed and chased after them. They got distracted by the lights hanging overhead and started spinning around, gazing at them in awe.
"You guys do not want to do that," Eddie said, and they started heaving before they ran off in the direction of the bathrooms. "And that's why."
He ran off after them and into the bathroom room, where they vomited into the toilets. Eddie knelt down next to him and stroked Steve’s hair as he emptied the contents of his stomach. Once Steve was done, he leaned his head into Eddie's touch and closed his eyes, letting Eddie stroke his hair. He whined when Eddie moved away and saw him go to the sink. He came back with a wet, soapy paper towel and started cleaning Steve’s face.
"I guess I'm chopped liver," Robin said. "It's okay, I'll get it myself."
Steve laughed and made a face at the taste in his mouth. Eddie clapped a hand on his back.
"I'll be right back," Eddie said.
He rushed off to buy a couple of toothbrushes and toothpaste. He also picked up what he thought was lip balm. When he returned, he he heard them talking. They were clearly bonding, solidifying their working relationship into a friendship. Or maybe something more considering how Robin was talking about watching Steve. Shit, maybe Eddie should leave. They were talking about someone else now.
"But Tammy Thompson's a girl," Steve said.
"Yeah," Robin said.
"Oh."
Or maybe not. Oh God, Robin was coming out to Steve, and Eddie was overhearing it. Oh God, what should he do? He was frozen to the spot. Steve was going on about how Tammy Thompson was a total dud and how she sounded like a Muppet. Eddie snorted. Yeah, that was true.
"I can't believe you're making fun of my crush," Robin laughed. "What about yours?"
"Hey, at least Eddie can sing," Steve replied.
Fuck! Okay, so he had been telling the truth then.
"How do you know he can sing?" Robin asked.
"My car broke down near the Hideout one night, and I heard him singing. He was playing with his band, Corroded Coffin," Steve said. "They were really good. I was going to go talk to him, but I kind of thought that the drummer was his girlfriend, but that's crazy. I mean, guys and girls can just be friends, right?"
"I like to think so," Robin replied.
There was a long pause in their conversation, which gave Eddie plenty of opportunity to burst through the door.
"Okay, so I have a green toothbrush and a pink one," Eddie said. "Which one do you guys want?"
"Ooh, pink," Steve said and they stared at him. "What?"
"Nothing," Eddie said in amusement.
He watched as they brushed their teeth. Well, he mostly watched Steve.
"So, how much of our conversation did you hear?" Steve asked, setting his toothbrush on the sink.
"What? I didn't hear anything. Were you guys talking about something?" He asked.
"Seriously?" Robin asked, raising an eyebrow.
"I didn't hear anything that you guys didn't want me to hear," Eddie said.
"I don't think you're the kind of guy who would spill the beans on us," Robin said. "At least, I hope not so you don't have to deny anything."
"Ooh, lip gloss," Steve plucked it out of Eddie's hand. "May I?"
"Yeah, I thought it was lip balm," Eddie frowned. "So, have you always known that you liked guys?"
"Not just guys, girls too," Steve said as he started applying the lip gloss to his pouty lips. "I'm bisexual."
"Did you always know you were bisexual?" Eddie asked as he watched Steve’s lips intently.
"Well, yes and no," Steve said. "It was more like a slow build-up to my realization. Like more and more evidence started piling up that I could no longer deny."
"So, it wasn't like you looked at someone one day and realized 'shit, I'm into dudes, now?" Eddie asked as his eyes raked over the swell of his ass.
"It's always kind of been there. Why?" Steve asked as he closed the lip gloss.
"No reason," Eddie blushed, looking at his shoes.
"Oh my god!" Robin exclaimed. "You woke him up."
"What?" Steve asked.
"You woke him up!" Robin exclaimed, and Eddie quickly hid behind his hair.
"It's the outfit!" Eddie shrieked.
"So, what is it about the outfit that does it for you?" Steve asked.
"It's everything! The socks! The shorts that fill out your ass fantastically, by the way! And the shirt with the red bow tie in front," Eddie said. "It's just the whole fucking outfit."
"You should see me in the hat," Steve said in amusement.
Suddenly, Dustin and Erica burst into the bathroom before Steve could say anything else.
"There you are!" Dustin shrieked.
"Hey, could you give us a minute?" Steve asked Robin.
Robin quickly started ushering the kids out of the bathroom.
"But, Steve?!" Dustin asked.
"Out!" Robin yelled and shut the door behind them.
"I like you and as badly as I want to kiss you right now. . . I don't want it to be after I vomited in a bathroom. Plus, you still need to figure things out. If you still want me a few days from now. Call me. I have to deal with these kids I babysit. So go home and think things over," Steve said softly.
There was something that Steve wasn't telling him, but Eddie knew that he was also right. Besides, it was late. Steve placed his hands on Eddie's shoulders and pressed a kiss to his cheek, close to the corner of his mouth. It felt much like Steve was promising him something. Steve pulled away and started moving toward the door.
"Hey, Steve?" Eddie asked.
"Yeah?"
"I'm definitely going to call you," Eddie said.
Steve laughed and walked out of the bathroom, leaving them both with hope for the future.
1K notes · View notes
hattiewritesalot · 3 days
Text
Awake
Azriel x fem!Reader
Tumblr media
Summary: Azriel is undeniably furious, especially considering the fact that Y/N has yet to wake up. But, when she does, what will become of their relationship?
Warnings: Vomiting, mentions of Az wanting to kill people for his bbg, very fluffy. Bit of hurt/comfort for both Azriel and Y/N
A/N: Here is part two of Poison (which, btw, thank u for all the support I've been getting on it 😭). feel free to send in requests for acotar bc I'm bored<3
---------------------------------------------------------------
Azriel doesn’t think he’s ever been angrier in his entire life.
He’s supposed to stay calm and collected, every inch the mysterious spymaster, but not even the strongest sedative could settle the rage brewing in his chest. His shadows curl menacingly around his limbs, the black essence seeming to share his fury.
Rhysand sighs, rubbing his temples. Feyre stands behind him, probably to offer some form of comfort. They both adore Y/N. They’ve practically adopted her with how much they coddle and coo at her, despite her loud laughter and complaints whenever they do.
Cauldron, what Azriel wouldn't do to hear that laugh right now. 
It’s been three days. Y/N is not awake. His mate is not awake.
Rhysand finally looks up at Azriel. “We’ve got answers, at least.” Before Azriel can interrupt, he keeps talking. “Beron has admitted to poisoning Y/N. He figured that if he targeted her, we’d crumble. Not because she’s the strongest, but because she’s the most… beloved, daresay. He didn’t think we’d hit back, and he thought he’d be able to crush us with this crack in our defences.”
Azriel’s scarred knuckles are alabaster from how hard he’s gripping the arms of his chair. “That doesn’t make sense. Why would he just admit it?” The High Lord of Night takes a deep breath.
“He found it funny.” The noise that tears from Azriel’s throat is completely inhumane, and completely unlike him. He storms to the door, but Cassian’s strong arms hold him back, urging him to stay calm, urging him to breathe. He can’t. He’s gone past being angry, and he’s gone past blaming it on the new mating bond.
Y/N is his best friend. He’d die and kill for her, he’d steal the moon and stars if it meant she’d be happy. The Mother’s bond can go and fuck itself, because the one he’s already got with Y/N will always be stronger.
“I’ve arranged a meeting with Eris Vanserra.” Rhys’ firm voice cuts through the haze of rage. “He says he has plans, and that this event has solidified his desires. I may be unable to tell you what comes of the meeting, but I guarantee that Beron will suffer for what he did to Y/N.”
Mate. Awake. He almost doesn’t realise what his shadows are whispering to him. Awake. Eyes open. Vomit. GO. He chokes, and desperately tries to break free of Cassian's grip. He needs to see her. He needs her to be okay. “Az, Rhys just said-”
“I know what he just said!” Azriel hates the way his voice is more of a sob. “She’s awake- she’s- please, let me go to her!”
A shadowsinger shouldn’t beg. He shouldn’t grovel. He should attack.
But he doesn’t, because he knows that Y/N is far more important than any conflict he could have with Cassian right now.
And, besides, Cassian lets him go. He’s never run so fast in his life. His feet are barely on the ground, legs and shadows and wings working in tandem to get him there as soon as possible. He thinks he might be the one vomiting in a minute.
Rhys groans. “I know they’re close, but he’s going to drive me insane before I even have this meeting.”
But Feyre, ever the observant High Lady, stares at his retreating form, hand squeezing Rhys’ shoulder. “Give him time. I’m sure he’ll cool off, when he knows she’s safe.” A small smile quirks up at the corners of her lips, knowing exactly why Azriel is so worked up.
---------------------------------------------------------------
His chest heaves as he pushes the door open, but then it’s filled with warmth. Alive. She’s alive, and upright, and very visibly pissed off but it’s okay because she’s alive.
“The one time I drink something that isn’t champagne-” she croaks out. “-and it turns out to be fucking poisoned. If that’s not my luck I don’t know what is.”
Azriel can’t control the desperate sob that bursts from his lips as he clambers onto the bed, pulling her into his chest. She’s sweaty, and feverish, and she’s just puked into the bucket next to the bed, but he’ll be damned if he cares. She’s alive. He buries his face in her hair, arms and wings squeezing her so tightly it makes her squeak.
“Alright big guy, I’ve just been sick, let’s not try and go for round two.” Her tone is teasing, joking, but the moment he pulls away, her face falls. “Az…” she murmurs, moving her fingers up to wipe his tears. “What’s wrong?”
“What’s wrong?” he spits, sobbing again. “What’s wrong!? You were fucking poisoned! You’ve been puking and coughing and writhing and screaming ever since you got here, and you’ve been out for three days. Three whole days- where- I didn’t know if you were dead, I didn’t know if you-”
“Az.” her tone is a bit firmer now, thumbs pressing against his lips. “I’m okay. I’m gonna be okay. I’m here, I’m breathing, and I’m going to be fine. Breathe.” 
He heaves a deep breath, clutching her so tightly his fingers make indents on her skin. If she notices, she doesn’t care. “You’re… okay.”
“I’m okay.” She smiles. Her lips are cracked and slightly discoloured, but he’s missed her little smile so fucking much. “Come on, Az, you know me. Tough as nails.” She flexes her arms, and Azriel snorts.
“There’s nothing there. You should really stop skipping training.” “No! You’re always a dick to me in training!”
“Yes, because Cassian’s about as mean as a wet sponge, and it isn’t potty training, it’s battle tactics.” She scoffs. “Whatever, whatever.” And he grins, and hugs her again, trying to engrave the memory of her wrapped up in his arms into his brain, just to keep there forever. “Azriel?” He hums in response. “I- so, you know a couple days back? When... this... happened, and I was just about to fall asleep?” She swallows. “I think I felt something… snap.”
His heart pounds in his chest. “The bond? You felt it too?”
“Uh- yeah.” She looks up at him, big eyes blinking up at him like a doe, her face so sweet he wants to coo. “Are you disappointed? That it’s me?”
That makes Azriel frown. How could he be disappointed? She’s everything and more, anyone can see that. Even if he pushes aside the fact that she’s drop-dead gorgeous, she’s got a brain to match it. She’s quick and clever and sassy in a way that rivals even his own spunk. If anything, she should be the disappointed one.
“No.” he says, brows furrowing. “Y/N, sweetheart, you mean the world to me. How could I be disappointed?” He wants to catch all of the butterflies in his stomach and lock them away forever, because they're making him woozy. “Are- are you?”
“Am I?” her tone is confused, almost shocked. “Az- Az, I’ve been into you for, like, forever. I’m not disappointed. I could never be disappointed, not with you.”
They stare at each other for a long moment, blinking, suddenly coming to terms with the fact that this bond has, for lack of better wording, startled them. They’ve always prioritised everyone else over them, always considered others' needs and benefits above their own, but they’ve never had the chance to fully acknowledge themselves. Maybe that’s what made them so alike. Maybe that’s why the Mother paired them together, knowing that amidst the sarcastic comments and teasing touches, the sturdy roots of their relationship came from their unwavering trust and care for one another.
Azriel’s hand moves to Y/N’s clammy forehead, softly pushing the hair away from her face. Despite everything that’s happened in the last few days, she’s still her, and he’s still him. Nothing is ever going to change that.
“You’re beautiful.” He whispers. She rolls her eyes. “I’ve got a raging fever, I’m drenched in my own sweat, I just threw up and you’re calling me beautiful?”
He laughs, oh, by the Cauldron, he laughs. “You could be a corpse and you’d still be the most beautiful girl in the world.”
“That’s necrophilia, Az. Pretty sure that’s illegal.”
“You’re hilarious, sweetheart.”
“Is that why you fell in love with me?”
“Okay, who’s saying I’m in love with you?”
“Me.” and she grins, nudging her nose against his. “Because I am not only hilarious, but also very observant.” He lets out a little hum in response, scarred fingers still twisting in her hair. Everything’s perfect, because they’re not. Their imperfections are intertwined, just like their souls, and the knowledge the other will always be there to love them is all they've ever wanted.
Azriel’s eyes flit down to her lips, and then he’s leaning in, and she’s doing the same, and-
She pulls away, wincing. “I puked about five minutes ago. I don’t think you want to kiss me right now.”
He rolls his eyes, tipping her chin up. “Y/N L/N, I have waited at least two centuries for the opportunity to kiss you. Don’t stop me now.” And he presses his lips to hers. It’s gentle, soft, sweet. Everything he feels around this girl.
“You’re gross.” She mumbles.
“That’s what love does to you.” 
“And you’re a sap.” She grins. “I suppose you’re lucky I love you, even if you are going soft for me.”
“Shut up, sweetheart.”
--------------------------------------------------------------
@topaz125 @starryhiraeth @nahminae @quiettuba @thecraziestcrayon @honeywithemoney @marvelsmylife @sunny1616 @lilah-asteria @emryb @i-am-infinite @st4r-girl-official
my loves ty for ur support! :)
678 notes · View notes
theminecraftbee · 6 months
Text
you know it's INTERESTING to look back at the double life soulmate pairs and see how they're doing now, relationship-wise, because that experience shaped every soulmate pair differently, i think:
ren and bigb i'll put first on account of "we have no idea since ren hasn't been in the series since double life". when will our doggy come back from the war.......
grian and scar are... grian and scar, the soulbond alone is only part of everything going on there. i think being FORCED to team shaped them a bit into being a little/lot more stable in their relationship with each other in limited life and secret life, as well as maybe taught them a bit about each other's limits. i am... honestly not a desert duo guy there are people who can do the analysis of the soulmate bond's impact on them WAY better than me but. it's part of their overall arc, you know?
martyn and cleo are fun. they both are still clearly CLOSE but they are also both still clearly mistrustful and angry at each other! they have this whole "the only one who can kill you is me" dynamic going on between each other that's very fun. i think being soulmates... obviously they were one half of divorce quartet and the resentment of being forced together did some stuff to that relationship. but i think maybe it also sort of gave them something that they appreciate about each other as well? and they DO care, despite everything. (i could GO INTO THIS LET ME TELL YOU.) so like, they aren't close friends or anything, but they Know Each Other now. and that's a fun dynamic.
impulse and bdubs are funny because i think their bond both did and didn't shape them. the thing is, like desert duo, their soulbond is only one step in their journey, the one that ARGUABLY only settled out in limlife after impulse permakilled bdubs. (note that this is the first series where bdubs hasn't gotten a clock! he is FINALLY PAST that one relationship!) that said i think being each other's ridiculously happy married couple did something to impulse specifically, actually. i think it sort of confused and solidified the grudge and it also like, showed him the almost-happy-loyalty that he wanted in the world. i think these days impulse, at least, has a different idea of 'loyalty' and 'betrayal' thanks to that. and bdubs... i think it's relevant that despite bdubs intentionally CONSTANTLY THROWING UP BETRAYAL FLAGS, he never actually did it. and i don't think he ever actually would. but in terms of their relationship to EACH OTHER? the soulbond was, yeah, only one step in how that arc went.
scott and pearl are... interesting. it's funny; for one of the single most consequential soulbonds in double life, it like... mostly hasn't come up again in their relationship? part of this i think is that pearl's LONELINESS had more of an impact on her than anything scott specifically did, and scott choosing had more of an impact on him. so to each other they're mostly... normal? both a bit mistrustful but like... normal? it's in the ways they act with other people that this experience shaped them, i think; i could say something about scott's next major relationship being mean gills, and the way pearl is only now learning to be a part of a team that cares again. also, pearl's discovery of her bloodlust. that kind of happened in last life to be fair, but it's relevant,
jimmy and tango are surprisingly simple because they were one of the most stable and normal soulmate pairs, lol. they're each other's ranchers! they're still friendly to each other even when their teams are on opposite sides! i think having one relationship where he was the more self-assured one was nice for jimmy and tango having a guy who, rather like skizz, was never going to point out much when tango screwed up on account of Pot Meet Kettle was nice for him, and they both know it was nice. they both get more into the teasing now that they know each other better--a big part of the early ranchers dynamic is that they Did Not Know Each Other but now that they DO it's starting to settle into something shaped more like the kinds of relationships both tango and jimmy tend to have (and they are BOTH the kinds of people to have a lot of friendly mocking in their relationships i wouldn't be surprised if that gets Even More in the future)--but i think out of everyone they probably remember the soulmates thing the most fondly, given the degree to which they are still Buddies.
etho and joel are... good lord the boat boys. on the one hand: clearly they both still enjoy pointing out that the boat boys happened. joel gets... weirdly jealous of other people hanging out with etho? on the OTHER hand they seem determined to murder each other so so so bad. i like to think that their soulbond is a thing they look back on fondly from this but ALSO they both have such weird commitment hangups and bloodlust that maybe the fact they want to kill each other SO BADLY was inevitable. also interesting, though, is how much of this bloodlust comes from etho, given that normally you'd expect joel's relationships to go the other way. what i THINK is happening is that joel still feels a lot of loyalty towards the boat boys somewhere in his head (hence the jealousy and not typically being the one to lash out), whereas etho thinks of it as largely Done and Past, but thinks of it fondly--hence bringing it up every time he has to kill joel, and also the weird tendency to gravitate towards joel specifically. I DON'T KNOW MAN I WOULDN'T HAVE PREDICTED BEFORE LIMLIFE THAT BOAT BOYS WOULD BE THE SOULMATE PAIR THAT WERE WEIRDEST ABOUT EACH OTHER BUT HERE WE ARE,
anyway i just think it's funny to look back on the various soulbonds and realize which ones have had a big impact on sticking around and which ones haven't, you know?
685 notes · View notes
onlybunss · 3 months
Text
All Yours (M)
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
Pairing~ vampire!jungkook x mate!reader
Warnings~ possesive!jk, mentions of marking, dom!jk, sub!o/c, pet names, , oral(f receving,m giving),, soft!jk
A/N: What happened the night before: Mine Forever
"Fuck, Jungkook," I gasped. "Shit, baby, moan my name just like that," he growled, his grip tightening on your hips. "I want to hear you scream it." "Jungkook," I gasped, feeling his fingers digging into my skin as he thrust deeper. "Please, Jungkook, don't stop," I begged, my voice shaky with desire. His movements became more urgent, and the sound of skin slapping against skin filled the room. "You're so beautiful when you say my name," he whispered, his breath hot against my ear. His words only fueled the fire burning inside me, pushing me closer to the edge of ecstasy. With each thrust, I felt myself surrendering completely to him. "I'm going to cum, Jungkook," I moaned, my body trembling with pleasure as he quickened his pace. "Yes, let go for me," he encouraged, his voice husky with desire. My release washed over me in waves, my body arching as I cried out his name in pure bliss. Suddenly, his lips moved lower, trailing kisses along my inner thighs before finally settling between my legs. The sensation of his tongue on my most sensitive spot sent me spiraling into another realm of pleasure, my hands clutching at the sheets as I moaned his name over and over again. My body quivered with each flick of his tongue, his expert ministrations driving me to the brink once more. "Jungkook fuck.." I gasped "I'm so close," I moaned. His deep voice sent shivers down my spine as he whispered, "Not yet, baby. I want to make you feel even better." As he continued to please me, I felt myself on the edge of an intense climax, my senses overwhelmed by the ecstasy he was providing. "Let go for me." With a final surge of passion, I let go completely, surrendering to the euphoria he had ignited within me. My body convulsed with pleasure as I rode out the waves of my orgasm, feeling completely consumed by the intensity of our connection. As I slowly came back down from my high, I could see the satisfaction and pride in his eyes, knowing he had brought me to such a powerful release. His touch was like nothing I had ever experienced before, leaving me craving more of his intoxicating presence. With a gentle smile, he whispered, "You are so beautiful when you let go." "No one except me will ever get to see you like this." "No one except me will ever get to see you like this," he whispered possessively, his gaze lingering on me with a sense of ownership that sent shivers down my spine. The possessiveness in his tone only fueled my desire for him, knowing that I belonged to him in that moment of pure vulnerability. "no one will ever seem like this..no one..jungkook." I gasped out still getting through my high His touch and the intensity of his gaze made me feel both exposed and desired, a combination that left me feeling simultaneously scared and exhilarated. It was a feeling I knew I would never forget, a moment of connection that would forever be etched in my memory.
As we were laying there in silence, I said, "Why did you mark me there?" His response was a soft whisper: "Because you're mine, and I want everyone to know it." The possessiveness in his tone sent shivers down my spine, solidifying the bond between us even further.
"And I wanted to see it while I fucked you numb," he said in a low, husky voice that made my heart race and my face heat up. "Jungkook," I say shyly. "What its true! How did you even see it's translusive on the skin?" He said it with a curious tone. I laughed a little "well it hurt when I was ass up for you so I checked.." "Fuck, you're a sneaky one," Jungkook chuckled, his fingers tracing lightly over the mark. "But I guess that just proves how irresistible you are to me." I couldn't help but smile at his words, feeling a warmth spreading through me at the realization of the depth of our connection. "I guess so," I replied softly, leaning into his touch. Wrapped up in each other's arms, we lay there in content silence, the lingering echoes of our passion still hanging in the air. In that moment, I knew that whatever lay ahead for us, we would face it together, bound by a love and desire that was undeniable. And as I drifted off to sleep in his embrace, I couldn't help but feel grateful for the intensity of our connection and the unspoken promises that lay between us.
447 notes · View notes
inc-ch-ident · 3 months
Text
Father(s) | Charlos
Paring: Charles Leclerc x fem!reader x Carlos Sainz.
Warning: Pregnancy, Google translator.
Trigger:
Genre: Fluff.
Prompts: None.
Summary: Y/n L/n, the spirited princess of the grid. She's 5 months pregnant from her previous relationship. She's friends with Charles and Carlos.
Part 2
Request form-> here
Masterlist
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
Five months pregnant from a previous relationship, she embarked on a journey of newfound friendship with two F1 Ferrari drivers, Charles and Carlos. Little did she know that her bond with them would evolve into something more complex and beautiful.
As the days turned into weeks, their friendship deepened, and Y/n noticed the admiration and affection that both Charles and Carlos held for her. At first, she was unsure of how to navigate these emotions, especially considering her pregnancy and the complexities it brought to her life. But as time went on, Y/n realized that love had a way of defying expectations and boundaries.
Y/n's pregnancy brought forth a mix of emotions within her. She was excited about the impending arrival of her child, but also apprehensive about navigating the challenges of motherhood alone. However, she found solace and support in the company of Charles and Carlos, who had become her dear 'friends'.
In a moment of vulnerability, Y/n opened up to Charles and Carlos about her own feelings. She admitted that she cared deeply for both of them, but she also had reservations about pursuing a romantic relationship while being pregnant. She feared that it might complicate their friendship and jeopardize the stability she sought for her child.
To her surprise, Charles and Carlos responded with understanding and unwavering support. They assured her that their feelings were genuine and that they embraced the idea of a polyamorous relationship. They wished to be by her side, not only as friends but as partners and fathers to her child.
One day, they walked around the paddock, y/n rubbing her belly, the air was charged with unspoken emotions. Both Ferrari drivers could sense y/n tension, their gazes lingering a little longer, their touches a little more tender.
"What's going on inside your head?" Charles asked her, taking her hand and holding it as they walked.
"Seven months left until our boy would be introduced to the world," Y/n whispered, resting her head on Carlos's shoulder.
"But?"
"But, I'm worried I'm not going to be a great mother. I'm 23" Y/n sighs deeply, taking a seat on the bench as she feels her feet sore.
"And I'm 28. Have you seen yourself around kids?" Carlos scoffed as he and Charles sat beside her. Charles placed his hand on her stomach, rubbing her round belly.
"Even then, we'll be with you through it. Shotgun on dada." Charles chuckled as y/n and Carlos rolled their eyes at him.
"You bet, his first words are papa," Carlos argues back, playfully slapping Charles's hand off Y/n.
"No, It'll be mama," Y/n said, crossing her arms and ending the playfully bickering between the men. Charles placed a kiss on her head and Carlos let her rest her head on his shoulder.
Together, they navigated the uncharted territory of love, trust, and a shared vision of a family. Charles and Carlos were present throughout Y/n's pregnancy, attending doctor's appointments, sharing in the excitement of ultrasounds, and providing emotional support during the highs and lows.
As Y/n's belly grew, so did their bond. They created a loving and nurturing environment, preparing for the arrival of their child with joy and anticipation. Charles and Carlos showered Y/n with affection, ensuring she felt cherished and supported every step of the way.
When the day finally arrived, and Y/n gave birth to their precious baby, their hearts swelled with love and gratitude. Loving her son like their own, by blood or not, their bond solidified by the shared experience of parenthood.
In the years that followed, Y/n, Charles, Carlos, and their child formed an unbreakable family unit. They faced the challenges of parenting with unity, love, and unwavering commitment, celebrating each milestone and cherishing the moments that made their unconventional love story even more extraordinary.
In the world of Formula 1, where competition and speed reign, Y/n, Charles, and Carlos proved that love could conquer all. Their polyamorous relationship defied societal norms, embracing the beautiful complexities of their hearts. Together, they wrote their own love story, one that would forever be etched in the annals of racing history.
___________
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
liked by landonorris, yourusername, carlossainz55, and 940,038 others!
charles_leclerc: Mon amour avec notre précieux prince♥️....
Tagged; yourusername
carlossainz55: you mean, OUR love with our precious prince
charles_leclerc: fine, notre amour avec notre précieux prince. Happy?
carlossainz55: very☺️
Tagged: @tbb01
415 notes · View notes
sapphicmsmarvel · 3 months
Text
feysand: getting together
feyre and rhysand discover the beauty of triad-bonds. no smut, all fluff, a sprinkle of angst.
buckle in we got a long ride (3K but hey this is long for me)
- It was interesting how you three got together. 
- Of course Rhysand initially thought that he and Feyre got together first out of the three of you.  
- No. You and Feyre lost your virginities together, and had your first kisses together. 
- She calls you her first love, always has. 
-Rhysand has always found you interesting, you were an angel compared to Nesta and Elain. When Feyre had come back to the mortal lands, you were the only one to look at her with relief. He could practically taste it as you brought her into your arms and cried into her hair. 
“Oh, my love. Whose ass am I kicking?” 
He didn’t miss the nickname, nor the way Feyre glowed after you called her that. Or how you never left her side. 
It was the first time he had heard Feyre giggle. 
So he knew right then and there he was going to protect you no matter what. That opinion was solidified when you welcomed them in with open arms, no questions. Then, you snapped at Nesta on their behalf. 
He remembers when he asked you why you let them in so easily. You had shrugged and said, “Feyre trusts you. I trust you.”
It was…interesting to say the least. If he wasn’t so smitten with Feyre he’ll admit that he could fall for you. 
-One night, after the war, after Cassian and Nestas' mating ceremony and baby Nyx’s birth; the two of them laid in bed with the babe cuddled into Feyre’s chest. He asked the question he had been dying to ask. “Were you and Y/N ever….?” 
She looked at him as if she was nervous, “yes.” She whispered, her voice small. “Is that a problem?”
“No!” Rhysand whispered fervently. Quietly enough to not wake Nyx, but loud enough that it showed how much he meant it. “I’ve always had a feeling.” 
She sighed, tears brimming her eyes, “gods these stupid hormones.” 
He wiped her tears. “I’m not mad.” 
“I know. But…” she shook her head. “It’s really scary.” 
“We don’t have to talk about it.” 
“No, I want to. But I also want to show memories, so you can….understand why I don’t ever want her to leave my life.” 
“I mean, I don’t know her nearly as well, yet I don’t want her to leave my life either. She’s….” He didn’t know how to finish that sentence, and if Feyre didn’t feel the exact same way, she might’ve nailed his dick to the wall.  
“Yeah.” She sighed. “She has a way of captivating people.” 
He felt her brush against his shields, and he opened up to her. 
“We met when we were five years old. Around age six, I declared I was going to marry her. Everyone laughed at me, but when I told her that she just smiled and said, ‘I want to marry you too’. Of course, we were six years old, we didn’t know any better. All throughout our childhood we shared a bond, I thought my entire life she was my soulmate.” 
As Feyre spoke, Rhysand saw her weave the tale of you two. 
“Then, I fell for Tamlin, and then you. I wouldn’t trade you for anyone. But she’s always stayed in my heart. When we went back to the village to see my sisters, I was more nervous to see her. Nesta and Elain rejected me my entire life, she was the one person that never did. I don't know what I would’ve done if she looked at me like that. Like I was a monster.”  
He then felt the happiness that Feyre felt that day when you took her into your arms. He could feel the tears that hit Feyres neck as you cried. Your perfume seemed to have a mind of its own and weave around her. He was in Feyre’s head, he wasn’t sure if he ever wanted to leave this embrace. 
As the night went on, she shared more memories of the two of you. He could feel his heart glowing as he saw you two laugh and grow together. 
- When Feyre was gone, you had found him in the backyard of the townhouse. He was drinking a glass of fae wine. You sat down next to him. 
“You know Feyre would call me a sap for being worried about her.” You started. 
He could almost laugh at that. It fits. “She’d also probably hit you.” 
“Oh yeah, maybe with her shoe?” He whipped his head to you. 
“She tells me everything, Rhysand.” You quirked an eyebrow. “Everything. Which is why I’m not storming into the spring court. I know what she needs to do.” 
“What?” 
“She told me about it. When it was happening.” You said. “When that bastard brought us in, she spoke in my head. Told me about it and that I needed to trust you guys. So I did.” “I’m sorry, that you three got brought into this.” 
You shrugged, “you would’ve seen me around anyway. Fey and I can’t stay away from each other. At least this way our friendship will last longer.” 
He huffed a laugh, amazed at your positivity. “I’m surprised you’re this positive about it.” 
You shrugged, “I just got her back, I’m not losing her again.” 
“Yeah. I can relate to that.” He said quietly. 
- After that night, he looked after you more. You helped out in the kitchen, you cleaned too even though you were requested not to. You can’t just sit around. You even talked to Rhysand about getting a job. 
- You two also hung out together, you either talked or just sat quietly. He found that you were one of those people that made it extremely easy to talk to you about anything. He felt safe with you immediately, which should’ve rang off more warning bells than it did. 
- You were accepting this life, because rejecting it would just result in a big spiral that you refused to go down. You’ve been down a depression rut before, you know when the signs are coming so you made yourself useful around the townhouse. 
- After Feyre came back from the Spring Court; you welcomed her again with open arms. Held her while her own sisters turned her away. 
Nesta had shoved you away because to her it seemed you were taking Feyre’s side. You weren’t. You loved all of them so much, you just wanted a bit of normalcy even though you knew it would never be normal again.
Him, Feyre and the entire Inner Circle heard that screaming match between you and Nesta. 
“And you’re acting like everything’s fine!”
“If I do not act, I will fall apart. This is our lives now. It sucks, the change fucking sucks but you know what could suck more? Feyre being dead. I know you like to act all cold and heartless because it’s some fucking defense mechanism-“
“Do not psychoanalyze me Y/N.” 
“My defense mechanism is trying to make the most out of things! I’m sorry I'm not like you Nesta; I always wish I would be. It would be a lot less painful than feeling every-fucking-thing.” 
Nesta was silent and you continued. “I love you, I would do anything to protect you, to help you. But I cannot be pulled between the three of you.”
“So you’re choosing Feyre? Acting like this is normal?”
“I am choosing me.” You said. “I am choosing to deal with things. This is my life now and I will be damned if I waste one more second on hating myself ever again.” 
Nesta had left the room, storming past the inner circle and walking out. Feyre quickly ran upstairs, her mate hot on her trail. Everyone else remained downstairs in case you didn’t want an audience. Hell, Cassian tried to pull Rhysand away from checking on you. But Rhysand had shrugged him off. 
You’d grown on Rhys quite a bit. 
When they got upstairs, Feyre crept in, “Sometimes.” You breathed, “I want to punch that bitch in the face.” 
“Y/N-” Feyre started. 
“I love her, so much, Fey. But my Gods-” You choked out. “I am just trying to keep it all together.” 
“I know.” Feyre nodded, “that’s what you do. You make sure we’re all okay, but you don’t prioritize yourself. That’s what you’ve always done, but please do not put us before you this time.” Feyre’s voice was wobbly as she turned you into her shoulder. 
That’s where you broke down, and Rhysand made himself scarce. But not before seeing that look in his mates eyes. The same look she had when she found him during his nightmare. 
The face of someone watching the love of their life break down. 
-Eventually things between you and Nesta got better, “they always do” you had reassured Rhysand when he was talking to you about it. Feyre even agreed, “things always work out with Y/N. She doesn’t let stuff be unsaid.” 
- That’s why when he started fumbling around you like a schoolgirl, he realized pretty quickly what was going on. He knew that if you got a whiff about it, it would be endless misery. Not only would he lose Feyre, his entire family would turn on him. He knew what he was feeling too. It was the same thing he felt about Feyre when he first met her, intrigue. And then, it became so much more. 
The mating bond was beginning to snap. But a trio bond? Cause he still very much was bonded to Feyre. He had never heard of a trio bond in his particular area of the world. He knew couples took on consorts or occasional thirds. He even joked about that with Fey. 
Hell, this entire inner turmoil he’s had to keep from shouting down the bond. He wants to talk to her because she’s his best friend but how do you tell your wife you think you’re also fated to be with her best friend? 
So he began countless research methods. Just wondering if it was a thing at all. Or if they were about to rewrite history. However, he found that while it wasn’t common, it did happen. So, he began a folder compiling research, putting things together to show Feyre everything he’s found. 
- Pretty soon he was able to grow a pair and tell her. He walked into their home, first he checked on his beloved son to see him sleeping in his crib. Then found Feyre in their bedroom. He walked up to Feyre too, ready to confess, when she looked at him extremely nervous. “I wanna try something.” She started. “I…I love you. So fucking much Rhys. But….I was wondering if we could add Y/N to the mix. I’ve felt this pull and I can’t explain it. And it’s really scaring me right now.” 
He felt like he was going to collapse. He then realized he didn’t say anything when Feyre started crying, “please say something.” 
“I…I’ve felt the pull too.” He held out the folder, “that’s actually what I want to talk to you about.” 
So they stayed up quite late, going over the logistics, how they still felt about each other (spoiler: disgustingly in love still), and how they would feel adding you. 
- They wanted you more than anything. 
- So, despite Feyre telling Rhysand “no my love, she’s not going to like subtle ways here. She needs direct.” He still went subtle. 
- She just let him do whatever. Even though she knew damn well you don’t like gray areas, you need point blank black and white. 
- She knew not intervening sooner would bite her in the ass, especially when you stormed into the art studio fuming. But she did enjoy the beautiful blush on your cheeks. She also found your angry eyes disgustingly attractive like she always has. 
You threw your bag over in a chair. “You need to tell your husband to stop flirting with me.” You hissed to her. 
Feyre raised a brow, “tell him yourself.” 
You looked shocked. Feyre quickly realized that this wasn’t the time for a blunt best friend role. Especially when she knew her husband had feelings for her best friend. “Fey! You can’t be okay with this!” 
She sighed, “can you just stay here, please? I’m going to get him here and we’re going to get this figured out.” 
You sighed and waited. When Rhysand came strolling in all breezy, he froze like he was terrified. “Uh, hello my two favorite beautiful ladies-”
“See!” You yelled. “He doesn’t stop.” 
“And he’s not going to.” Feyre sighed, “we have something to talk to you about.” 
She was glad she could read your face so well after all these years still. Let’s just hope there were more years of friendship, and possibly more. 
She also didn't know how to be around the bush with you. “You know the mating bond?” 
You nodded, so she continued. “Since a few months ago, both Rhys and I-” she looked at her husband. “We’ve felt…a pull to you.” 
You just stared. Rhysand continued. “The pull is the beginning of the mating bond.” Then he noticed that you weren’t reacting. 
“Why aren’t you surprised?” Rhysand asked. 
“She already knows.” Feyre said. 
You said nothing, and Feyre continued. “You knew and didn’t say anything?” 
“You didn’t say anything for a few months.” You said weakly. “When did you know?” 
“The second I came out of that cauldron. I felt it then.” 
Rhysand felt his own heart shatter, Feyre could feel her own shatter then as well. You waited years. Rhysand didn’t even wait that long knowing that it was Feyre. He waited a good six months but not years. Feyre didn’t wait at all, she jumped his bones. 
Feyre jumped back, shocked. “You knew for years? Why didn’t you-”
“What could I have said, Fey?!” You yelled. “That I’m 90 percent sure that I’m meant to be with you and your husband? Doesn’t help the fact that-” You cut yourself off, you were bordering on hysterics. 
“The fact that what?” Rhysand said softly. “You two make it horrifically easy to fall in love with you.” You said, your tears finally cresting over your waterline and flowing down your cheeks. “I tried. I tried not to. Because I didn’t know if the cauldron was just cruel and gave me two mates I could never have. I knew it was possible for people to reject their mates so I accepted I was destined for that.” 
You sniffed, “my gods, why don’t you just put me out of my misery and reject it right now. I’ll leave Velaris, I’ll leave you alone.”
Feyre was crying. “You don’t deserve to be rejected.” “Well, you wouldn't think that if you knew the thoughts I had about your literal husband but okay Fey.” 
“If you were a random woman, that’s when I’d care. But you’re you-”
“And your best friend. It’s a cliche ass trope.” You wiped your face. 
“And you are my mate!” She shouted. “You are destined to be mine, to be Rhysand’s, to be ours!” 
You looked at Rhysand, “you’ve been silent. What are you thinking?” 
“How lucky I am to have two beautiful women be mine. If you’ll have me.” He said, his voice was quiet and hoarse, as if he was terrified that if he spoke too loud, he’d spook you and you’d run. 
You let out a broken sob, Feyre and Rhysand ran to hold you. 
“We would be honored if you became our mate.” Feyre said, her forehead pressed against your temple. 
“When I first met you,” Rhys began, his chin resting on your head. His hands clasped around Feyre’s back on your left side, he was on your right. “I saw how happy you made Feyre. But then when she was gone, you kept me from losing it on…well everyone.” He admitted. 
“We had only had a few conversations.” You said. 
“Shhh, I’m confessing.” He teased, then he heard you snort a laugh. “When Feyre and you first reunited. I saw how happy she was, how she felt so safe. I vowed right then that I would protect you to keep that smile on her face. But once I got to know you, I realized I would protect you in general. You made me feel so at ease. I felt the peace that I knew Feyre must feel when she talks to you. You are strong, you are sweet, you are the most welcoming person I have met in my lifetime. You had every right to react poorly to us, instead, you took us in simply because we were with Feyre. You never looked at us like you were superior, or that we were your superior. Just equals sharing a space.” He held you two tighter. 
“You could’ve ignored us completely, or been rude. But instead, you unabashedly asked Azriel and Cassian to help you cook because if we were going to stay we had to do work.” His shoulders shook with restrained laughter. He heard Feyre giggling and even you let out a wet laugh. “I realized you were a gem too many times to count. Especially when I fell asleep on the couch and not only did I have my guard up, but you covered me with a blanket so I wouldn’t get cold. Most would’ve ignored me. Then at the meeting with the other High Lords, you snapped at Tamlin and told him to ‘shut the fuck up’ and to ‘fuck off and die’. It was a magnificent thing to witness. You didn't care that he could’ve killed you with a single strike. Which, not going to lie, kind of worries me for your health in the future.” 
All three of you laughed at that. 
“You say we are easy to fall in love with, but you have no idea how magnetic you are.” He said. “I always wanted you and Feyre closest to me, at first I thought it was because you were her best friend, and you were becoming mine. But then…then I started to fall for you. Before I felt the tug. I fell for you because of this kindness, this bravery, the strength. It’s everything to me and if you give me the chance I will spend the rest of our lives proving how I am worthy of you and Feyre. The mating bond was just a bonus.” 
You sniffled again, but he felt your arms pull from where they were wrapped around your own waist. And spoke. 
“I have a condition.”
“Name it.” Feyre whispered . 
“I get to have sex with you both at separate times and together. Basically, we fuck alone and together. I’m not doing this territorial fae bullshit if one of you is actually not okay with it. We are all equal and we can solo fuck each other.” 
Rhysand let out a loud, boisterous laugh, “that’s not what I was expecting, but absolutely.” All of you laughed again.
“I want dates too.” 
“Always.” Feyre said. 
“And gifts.” You said jokingly.
“Duh.” Rhysand said seriously. 
 But then you untangled yourself from the huddle and went to your bag that you had thrown down when you stormed into Feyre’s art studio. 
Rhysand couldn’t help the pout and Feyre whined at the loss of contact. 
You said nothing, but pulled out an orange and began peeling it. “Seriously? You’re snacking after that?” Rhysand exclaimed. 
“Rhys, wait.” Feyre said, tears in her eyes. Her hand on his arm. 
You offered it to them, “I don’t have time to prepare something right now, and frankly I’m not patient enough.”
They just stared at your open palms. “I accept.” 
- Thus the frenzy began.
358 notes · View notes
arcielee · 6 months
Text
Zȳha lyks
Tumblr media Tumblr media
Summary: You find an ally with the second son of King Viserys. Paring: Aemond Targaryen x Plus Size Reader Word Count: 2.4k+ Warnings: AFAB Reader, fat phobia, kissing, oral (f receiving), fingering, p in v, overstimulation, loss of virginity implied. Author's Note: This story is based on this request:
Tumblr media
I definitely tweaked it a bit but I hope you enjoy it.💜 Thank you to my beloved beta reader @annikin-im-panicin for your insight with this peace and to @azperja for your emojis 💜 Valyrian translations: Zȳha lyks is his peace 💜 Dividers by @saradika-graphics 💜
Tumblr media
It was your father’s ambition to weave himself in the inner circle of the crowned princess that pulled you away from Claw Isle, leaving your brother behind to step into the role vacant for House Celtigar. During your journey, your father would repeatedly impress the importance of absorbing the tutoring of the maesters, to learn of your ancestral history before it had been so diluted by the blood of Westeros…but he was also adamant that you were to take advantage of your social seating, to make worthwhile and lifelong allies while in King’s Landing. 
You were quick to note the marionette strings that Prince Aegon held, allowing the Strong bastards to hold their heads high with their snide comments on how they found you, “pleasantly plump enough,” or so they supposed. 
It cut through your skin and burrowed into your heart, but your face never betrayed your anger nor your hurt. Instead, you went to your father with your heartache but his response was almost flippant about your torment. 
“Our blood stems from the veins of Old Valyria,” your father now spoke of this as a fact, as something without any room to argue against. “They are our kinfolk and we seem destined to intertwine our blood with the blood of the dragon.” 
But on this day you pushed aside your father’s words the moment you saw Prince Aegon and his puppets shift their collective cruelty onto the second son of King Viserys, Prince Aemond Targaryen. 
He was a quiet, sullen boy, who always seemed sunkissed and kept his large, lavender eyes downcast. You saw how his pain curved his posture, a hooded melancholy draped across his slouched shoulders. He blanched as the boys retrieved the Pink Dread, his freckles stark on his porcelain skin. 
Their gibe laughter echoed within the Dragon Pit and it boiled your blood, urging your steps forward to push past the brunette pair of princes and towards the puppeteer. Aegon’s brow raised, amused with your flushed fury that was staining your features, quick to sneer his comment on how, “–perhaps this swine could be mounted in–” but it stopped once your balled fist cracked into his nose. 
Your satisfaction trilled up and down your spine with the pop of cartilage, watching as he cupped his face and the crimson that poured between his fingers. His wounded howl called back the Dragonkeepers and the White Cloaks assigned to them, all horrified at the sight. You were in trouble, undoubtedly, feeling the large hand that curled around your wrist to drag you back to your father. You dared look at Aemond, catching the upturn quirk of his mouth, the glitter in his eyes that met with your own.   
It began a bond with the foundation of a mutual disdain, a hatred that would be solidified with events at Driftmark. 
The events that followed that fateful night were flurried: the crowned princess all but fled the capital with her new husband and children, while your father decided to uproot and follow after. This had been halted by the queen’s request, behest of her daughter Princess Helaena, asking if you would remain as one of her ladies and confidants. 
It was something that could not be denied and you found yourself alone with Helaena, her first request was for you to bring a book to her brother, who had since been boarded up in his room to recover. 
“Am I to read to him?” You peered up from the cover to Helaena. “What if he does not wish to see me?” 
“I believe this book and its company would interest him,” she glowed with her sweet smile, “I believe he would enjoy the change in narration, as our maester is rather monotone,” was all that she offered. 
At first, Aemond had been hesitant of your company, bashful of the bloodied bandages that required to be tended to, but you showed to be steadfast, unflinching, but with a sense of empathy without the effortful pity that came from everyone else. You saw how he warmed as your visitations turned habitual, with you joining with his lessons and remaining when the maesters left. Helaena would slyly dismiss you for the day and this allowed Aemond to help you practice your shared ancestral tongue, or listen to whatever tome caught your attention in the library, even delving into bits of gossip or updates that pertained to his dragon. 
“Vhagar flies over once a day. I assume it is to check on you,” you informed him one afternoon, “and she rests on the outside of the city walls, overlooking the bay.” 
His cheeks pinked with his shy admittance, “I can feel her.” 
You could not help your smile in return. Whereas Helaena was always sweet and always kind to you, and even Aegon had a newfound respect in your regard, you found it was the second son of King Viserys that allowed you to find a sense of comfort that you thought had been left at home. 
Aemond recovered, as you knew he would, and you still remained at his blindside as he reacclimated to his new depth perception. He began to wear an eyepatch over his scarred socket, its wrathful red line curling above and below, along with his apprehension to the whispers of the court about the marred Targaryen prince. 
“You are the rider of Vhagar, with the blood of the dragon in your veins,” you reminded him, your own blood rising to the surface. “Pay them no mind.” 
Aemond listened to you, as he always did, focusing his determination on relearning his world with his handicap. You watched as he grew tall, his sinewy frame becoming taut under his fitted tunic and slacks, a result of the countless hours he spent training with Ser Criston. He matured with a severity etched into the marble he seemed to be chiseled from, though you still would see a perpetual smirk that would play across his lips. 
Your heart fluttered until it bruised against your breastbone when he shyly asked that you would walk on his right side. “I wish to be able to see you,” he murmured and you burned with his words. Aemond showed consideration to match his gait with your steps and you enjoyed the heat that seemed to permeate from him; his large palm would cover your own, tucking it into the crook of his arm to keep you close at his side. 
Worthwhile and lifelong allies, your father’s mantra repeated in your mind, but on his eight and tenth nameday, you felt the thrum of an unknown emotion vibrating within you with his close proximity. 
His mother had gifted him a sapphire stone that was carved to fit where his eye once been, and when he focused his bicolored gaze on you–how the blue was brought out in his lavender eye with the complement of the gemstone, its amber flecks in the shine from the candles lit–did you feel the air pull from your lungs. 
You had never cared for the vicious tittering of the noblewomen and would find yourself arguing how Aemond was handsome still, as it seemed a quality trait that most Targaryen men possessed. But in that moment, as the warmth flooded your features from his steady stare that now bore through you, you began to grasp it to be so much more for you. 
Aemond misread your reaction, flinching to pull on his eyepatch with his apology: “I would never want to offend you–” 
Your hand reached with its own volition, touching his elbow to stop him. He paused and looked at you and you took a breath before you could manage to say, “Aemond, you are beautiful.” 
You burned from your boldness that was spilling from your tongue, your realization of what began as a mutual hatred for his nephews was on the precipice of something you knew you could not ignore. 
Aemond watched you, his eye flitting over, before he tucked his eyepatch into his pocket and then offered his elbow to you. “Come, Lady Celtigar, we should not keep them waiting,” his voice low, and only then did you notice the rose hue that touched his cheeks. 
After his celebration, it would be romanticized how the prince disappeared, taking Vhagar to fly to Claw Isle and demand your hand in marriage, against the Lord Hand’s protest for a more strategic pairing. Aemond would not be deterred and he returned with the intention to have you as his wife, which you graciously accepted. The ceremony that followed was intimate, steeped in the tradition of Old Valyria and sealed with a kiss that tasted of iron. 
It was then you felt a new shyness that swept through with your muted mortification of the intimacy that was now expected of you, that Aemond would see all of you. He always seemed to take pride with how you were dressed in your finery, gowns stitched to complement your buxom figure, but you soon learned that Aemond much preferred what was beneath the silk and lace. 
That night he would show you. He relished to peel away your layers, his mouth ravenous to taste your skin, his tongue licking to follow the natural slopes of your breasts and to the valley between. Aemond was panting with his anticipation, placing hot, opened mouth kisses to cherish your every curve, with gentle nips of his teeth that left blooms of rose as he continued towards your soft stomach and lower. He savoured your taste and how your body responded, how you were breathless, flushed, writhing beneath him. 
“Aemond,” you gasped as he nestled between your plush thighs. 
He shushed you, his breath warm against your silken folds, and it tickled in a way that caused you to squeeze his head between. His pleasure spilled with a low, guttural groan that rattled your bones beneath, but he would never pull away, as you would learn.   
Your fingers combed through his silver hair as he began to tease you, sparks licking the base of your spine as he drank your essence. His gentle touch fell in tandem with his tongue, a pacing that was harmonized with your sweet sighs, only quickening with the flutter of your walls. The sparks of pleasure flashed white with your peak shuddering throughout, pulsing around his digits that remained knuckle deep, coaxing you to completion. 
When your breath finally returned, you felt him grinning against your cunt. You found the muscle strength to tilt your chin down and meet with his eye blown, the shine of you on his smug expression. “One more for me, pretty girl,” his tone was low, commanding, his lips feathering your now swollen bloom of nerves. 
You were boneless and quivering from your second release and only then did Aemond shift to move on top of you, melting against the softness of your skin, fitting in a way that you never realized before was missing from you. 
He captured your mouth, his gentle thrusts filled you, completed you, and he trembled with his own reserve until you finally begged, “Aemond, my love, please, I need you–” that he rolled his hips against you, burying to the hilt with a rhythm that grew desperate. The litany that spilled from your lips as you clung to his shoulders, the flashes returning but with color from this new pleasure rekindling deeper within you.
That night, Aemond showed you the dragon that you were always aware thrummed beneath his practiced poise, something insatiable and wanting. He played the perfect gentleman in court, though his large hands always reached to touch, to grab whenever eyes were turned. You were his peace personified, decorated with love bites of your passion shared, the lifeline to his sanity that balanced on the edge of the coin flipped by the gods. 
And it was tested when the crowned princess returned to argue for the claimant of Driftmark. 
That night, the dinner had a palpable tension that the minstrels tried to drown with their music. Aemond held his gaze, piercing, loathsome, waiting for a moment to lash out, and that moment came served on a platter: a suckling pig that crackled still from the flames it had been removed from. 
You first noticed the crass snickering of Prince Lucerys that was followed by the swell of your husband’s anger, something you quickly abated with the gentle press of your hand to his forearm as you pushed to stand. The room halted, the attention trained to you as you made show to hold up your gilded cup. “Final tribute,” your sickly sweet tone began, “to the health of our nephews…” 
You knew that Aemond was watching, his agitation holding him rigid in his seat, his curiosity browed as you continued your insincerity, stating all three of their names with emphasis, “...each of them handsome, wise,” and your lips, stained by the wine, curled upwards, “Strong.” 
It was a rippled effect: the shock of the queen, the sharp eyes of the Lord Hand, the heated glare from the other end of the room, but it did not stop you. Instead you looked for the perpetual smirk that was now playing across your husband’s mouth. 
“Come now,” you gestured again with your goblet and even Aegon, with a dark chuckle, raised his own, “let us drain our cups to these three Strong boys.” 
“I dare you to say that again.”
Aemond pushed to stand, his ire returned with a force as he moved to wall you away from Jacaerys. “You dare raise your tone to my wife,” his wrath cut with each word, the fire in his blood pouring from him. “She only meant to compliment you… or do you not think yourself Strong?” 
It ended as quick as it had begun with Jacaerys thrown across the floor and a throaty chuckle from the back of Aemond’s throat. The clash of dragons was split apart by the White Cloaks and you watched your husband with a pride blooming in your chest, knitting with the love you now realized you had always carried for him: he was truly beautiful, squared off and fearless, his severity now furrowed onto his features that showed golden from the candles lit. 
You held your head high as you walked to grab his sleeve and his attention returned to you, to your touch, though his scowl remained splayed on the sharp edges of his face. You pulled him to leave, to return towards your bedchambers; Aemond brimmed with a passion that you knew needed a release and you would forever be willing to be that vessel for your husband.
Tumblr media
Taglist (Tumblr kindred spirits): @aaaaaamond @annikin-im-panicin @watercolorskyy @black-dread @fan-goddess @httpsdoll @theromanticegoist @assortedseaglass @amiraisgoingthruit @theoneeyedprince @babyblue711 @itbmojojoejo @girlwith-thepearlearring @lauraneedstochill @theobjectofyourire @troublesomesnitch @hb8301 @snowprincesa1 @namelesslosers @darylandbethfanforever9 @helaelaemond
Tumblr media
arcie's hotd masterlist
421 notes · View notes
jaystardust · 14 days
Text
⋆。‧˚ʚ🍓ɞ˚‧。⋆ MY STUPID BIRTHDAY
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
Pairing: Park Sunghoon x reader
Genre: fluff, a bit of angst, childhood friends to enemies to lovers, apparition of Jake, Sunoo, Jungwon and Minji (nwjns)
Warnings: slight humiliation, mention of food (tell me if I forget something)
Summary: in a world where every day counts, some days stand out more than others. for y/n, that day is her birthday, a day she shares with her best friend Sunghoon. but at their joint 16th stupid birthday celebration, an incident fractures their friendship
Words count: 3,9K
A/N : it's my first time posting a fic here, i had this idea popping into my head and decided to write something, idk if I will continue to write others in the future but I had so much fun writing this !! i hope you will enjoy it ( I don't really know if it is good or no tbh 😭😭), don't hesitate to give me some feedback or request something 💗
--------------------------------------------------------
365 days a year, sometimes even 366 days…you can say it's a lot.
Of all the days in the year, you chose your favorite. Some people like to choose Christmas or Halloween, while others prefer to be original and choose the day when the cherry trees blossom or the first snow falls. But you preferred to keep it classic, a day that might be banal for some, or cliché for others because your favorite day of all was your birthday.
What made this day so magical for you was the fact that you had the chance to share this date, so exceptional in your eyes, with your best friend Sunghoon. And that's why you became friends.
Sunghoon had come into your life at elementary school, arriving in the middle of the year and looking very shy. You remembered his arrival so well because he came to class on your so-called birthday, your 7th to be exact. On that day, your mother had baked your favorite cake, so you could share it with your classmates and blow out your candles, knowing that this day was so special to you.
When the cake arrived, you noticed the sparkle in the new kids's chocolate orbs. Curious to know if he shared your taste in pastries, you asked him if he was looking forward to tasting it. "Do you like strawberry shortcake cake too? They are my favorite!", the boy who seemed so silent didn't answer at the time and just looked at you. Surprised by his reaction, you tilted your head to one side and wondered why he didn't answer.
Ignoring the boy's attitude, you took his hand in yours and led him to the cake. “You can blow out my candles with me if you like!”, at the sound of such a friendly proposal, an expression you couldn't quite determine formed on Sunghoon's face, and his cheeks took on a crimson hue. 
Not understanding his reaction once again, you thought he didn't want to. “Oh, you don't like birthdays?”. The young brunet lifted his head and shook it vigorously, at which point he answered in an almost inaudible voice, “No, no...I like birthdays. Today's my birthday too…”.
Hearing such a statement, you couldn't help but jump up and down with joy at the idea of sharing such a precious moment with your new friend. Sunghoon, on the other hand, couldn't help hiding his face, rather embarrassed by so much attention suddenly focused on him. Seeing him so shy and embarrassed, you took his hand so that he could be at your side. “Let's both make a wish and blow out our candles, okay?”. You offered him a smile that revealed the tooth you'd lost last week and closed your eyes before making your wish. While the boy's wish remained unknown, you wished that from now on you'd be able to spend every one of your birthdays by his side... a day so precious to you
From that moment on, you and Sunghoon became inseparable. Birthdays became a shared celebration, a tradition that solidified your bond year after year. But as you grew older, things began to change. The simplicity of childhood was replaced by the complexities of adolescence, and the once-easy friendship began to face challenges neither of you could have anticipated.
High school brought about a shift in your dynamic with Sunghoon. New friends, different interests, and the inevitable misunderstandings began to drive a wedge between you two. It was subtle at first, a missed text here, a skipped hangout there. But over time, the cracks widened until a full-blown argument erupted on the day of your joint 16th birthday.
It had been brewing for a while, the tension palpable. Sunghoon had become more withdrawn, focusing on his new friends, sports, and studies. The clash came over something trivial—an unfortunate event that happened during your birthday celebration. 
At the long-awaited moment of blowing out your 16 candles, after wishing that things could work out between you and your best friend, Sunghoon had the wonderful idea of pushing your head into your birthday cake...in front of all the people who were invited. And what a shock it was to see one of his new friends named Jake laughing, holding up his phone to film the scene. “ Well done man! You nailed your bet, I didn't think you would!”.
After that, voices were raised, harsh words exchanged, and for the first time, you found yourself dreading your birthday. What a stupid birthday…
Years passed, and the distance between you and Sunghoon grew. From friends to enemies, it seemed. The shared birthday, once a symbol of your bond, now felt like a cruel reminder of what you had lost. Both of you were too stubborn to reach out, too hurt to mend the rift. So you ended your high school days this way.
College was supposed to be your fresh start, a new chapter free from the tangled mess of your high school drama. You had looked forward to it for years, dreaming of new experiences, new friendships, and the chance to redefine yourself away from the shadow of old wounds and betrayals. 
The campus was everything you had hoped for—bustling with life, offering endless growth opportunities, and filled with the promise of adventure. But as fate would have it, the one person you wanted to leave behind, Sunghoon, was also here. Seeing him across the quad that first week sent a chill down your spine. Memories of your 16th birthday, the argument, and the subsequent Cold War came rushing back, tainting what should have been an exciting new beginning.
When your mutual friends first proposed the joint birthday party, you couldn't believe your ears. "It'll be just like old times," Sunoo said, completely unaware of the emotional landmine they had stepped on. Your heart sank. The idea of celebrating your birthday with Sunghoon felt like opening an old wound. The 16th birthday incident left a scar, a painful reminder of how someone you once trusted implicitly could hurt you so deeply. 
Despite your protests, your friends were relentless. They saw the good memories, the fun, and the laughter from your shared celebrations. They remembered the duo that was inseparable and believed that one party could bridge the gap. To them, it seemed like a simple solution to rekindle a cherished tradition.
"Come on, it's just one night," Minji, your closest friend, pleaded. "You both deserve to have fun. It’ll be great, just like before."
You shook your head, frustration bubbling to the surface. "It's not that simple, Minji. There’s a lot you don’t understand."
Minji sighed, her expression softening. "I get that you two had a falling out, but it was so long ago. People change, y/n. Maybe Sunghoon isn’t the same person who did that...stupid thing."
"It's not just about the cake," you snapped, then took a deep breath to calm yourself. "It's everything that happened afterward. He just...he wasn't there for me. We were supposed to be best friends, and he let me down."
Jungwon, another friend who was also part of your mutual circle, chimed in. "Y/n, we're not asking you to be best friends again overnight. Just give it a chance.”
You looked at them, feeling the weight of their words but also the burden of your memories. "I don't know if I can handle it," you admitted, your voice barely above a whisper. "What if things get worse?"
Minji put a reassuring hand on your shoulder. "We've all seen how happy you two were back then. We just want to see you both happy again, even if it's just for one night. Can you try, for us?"
You hesitated, the memories of the laughter and joy you once shared with Sunghoon conflicting with the bitterness of your last encounter. The sincerity in your friends' eyes made it hard to refuse outright.
"Okay," you finally said, the word feeling heavy on your tongue. "I'll do it. But if things go south, I’m leaving. I can’t relive that nightmare."
Sunoo's face lit up with relief. "Thank you, y/n. We promise it’ll be worth it."
Jungwon grinned, giving you a thumbs up. "You won't regret it. We'll make sure it's an awesome party."
The first meeting to discuss party details was an exercise in tension. Sunghoon, once your shy and endearing best friend, now exuded an air of arrogance that made your blood boil. He walked into your living room with a confident swagger, greeting everyone casually, as if the years of animosity between you two didn’t exist.
"So, what's the plan?" Sunghoon asked, locking eyes with you for a moment. His gaze was steady, but you could see a flicker of something—regret, nostalgia?—before it vanished.
You rolled your eyes and crossed your arms. "We need to decide on the venue, decorations, food, and the guest list," you replied, your tone clipped.
"Great, I was thinking we should go big," Sunghoon said, leaning back in his chair. "A large venue, lots of music, and a huge guest list. It’s our 21st birthday after all."
You scoffed, shaking your head. "Of course, you'd want that. I was thinking of something more intimate. Close friends, good food, a relaxed atmosphere."
Sunghoon smirked, his eyes challenging. "A small gathering? That’s boring, y/n. People want to have fun."
"Fun doesn't mean a circus," you shot back, your irritation evident.
Jake, sensing the rising tension, intervened. "Hey, why not meet in the middle? We can have a decent-sized venue but keep the guest list reasonable. And mix up the music so there’s something for everyone."
You and Sunghoon exchanged a reluctant glance, and to your surprise, he nodded. "Fine. That works for me."
You sighed, feeling a bit of the tension ease. "Okay. But I’m in charge of the decorations."
Sunghoon chuckled. "Deal. As long as I get to handle the music."
The rest of the meeting was a series of compromises. Despite the occasional bickering, you managed to make some progress. However, the tension from years of unresolved issues loomed over every decision, making even the simplest tasks feel burdensome.
One afternoon, after another heated argument over the party's theme, you found yourself alone in the library, trying to finalize the details. Memories of happier times with Sunghoon flooded your mind—his shy smile, the way he used to get excited about your shared birthdays, and the countless hours spent talking about everything and nothing.
You were lost in thought when Sunghoon walked in and sat across from you. "Look, I know we have our differences, but we need to make this work. For our friends," he said, his voice surprisingly sincere.
You sighed, nodding. "Yeah, you're right. Let’s just focus on making this a good party."
Sunghoon looked relieved, and for a moment, you saw a glimmer of the boy you once knew. "I remember how much you loved those fairy lights. Maybe we can use them for the decorations?"
You were taken aback by his suggestion. "You remember that?"
"Of course I do," he replied softly. "Those birthdays meant a lot to me too."
In the days that followed, you fell into an uneasy rhythm. Despite the bickering, there were moments when the old Sunghoon resurfaced. One morning, he brought you your favorite coffee, remembering your order perfectly.
"Here," he said, handing you the cup. "I figured you could use a break."
You took it, surprised. "Thanks."
Another time, he helped you with particularly tricky decorations. As you struggled with a set of lights, he appeared beside you, effortlessly untangling them.
"Let me help," he said, his voice gentle. "You always hated doing this alone."
These small gestures made you wonder if there was still something worth salvaging between you two. Could it be that beneath the layers of hurt and pride, the bond you once shared was still there, waiting to be rekindled?
Just as you began to hope for reconciliation, everything came crashing down. Walking past the student lounge one afternoon, you overheard Sunghoon talking to Jake. Their voices were casual, filled with the easy camaraderie of old friends, but what you heard made your blood run cold.
"Yeah, she's still unbearable," Sunghoon was saying. "I don't regret pushing her head into the cake at all. Honestly, I'd do it again in a heartbeat."
The words felt like a dagger to your heart. Any progress you thought you’d made, any hope for a rekindled friendship, shattered in an instant. You turned and walked away, not wanting to hear another word. The small gestures, the moments where you thought the old Sunghoon was resurfacing, all felt like lies. The betrayal was raw and overwhelming, stirring up all the old hurt and anger you had tried so hard to move past.
That evening, you decided to confront Sunghoon. The emotions you had kept bottled up were boiling over, and you needed to let them out.
“Sunghoon, I overheard what you said to Jake,” you began, your voice trembling with suppressed anger.
Sunghoon looked up, confusion and worry flashing across his face. “Y/n, what are you talking about?”
“You said I’m unbearable and that you’d push my head into a cake again,” you replied, each word laced with the pain of your resurfaced wounds. “I thought we could maybe get past what happened, but clearly, you haven’t changed at all.”
Sunghoon’s face fell, and for a moment, he looked like the boy you once knew, the boy who had been your best friend. “It’s not like that,” he started, his voice soft and pleading.
“I don’t want to hear it,” you snapped, cutting him off. The anger in your voice masked the hurt you felt. “We’ll go through with this party for our friends, but after that, I don’t want anything to do with you.”
Sunghoon’s shoulders slumped, and he took a step towards you, desperation in his eyes. “Y/n, please. Let me explain. It was a stupid joke. I didn’t mean it.”
You shook your head, tears stinging your eyes. “A joke? You think that’s funny? Humiliating me, and then saying you’d do it again? That’s not a joke, Sunghoon. That’s just cruel.”
“I was trying to fit in with the guys,” Sunghoon said, his voice breaking. “I didn’t mean any of it. I’ve been an idiot, but I don’t want to lose you again.”
The sincerity in his voice made your heart ache, but the pain of his words was still too fresh. “You already lost me, Sunghoon,” you whispered. “A long time ago. And this just proves that you don’t care.”
Sunghoon reached out, but you stepped back, putting distance between you. “Y/n, please, don’t do this. We’ve come so far.”
You shook your head, feeling a mix of sadness and anger. “No, Sunghoon. You might think we’ve come far, but we’re right back where we started. I can’t keep doing this.”
With that, you turned and walked away, leaving Sunghoon standing there, looking lost and broken. The weight of your decision settled heavily on your shoulders, but you knew it was the right choice. You couldn’t keep reopening old wounds, hoping they’d heal. You needed to move forward, even if it meant leaving Sunghoon behind.
The rest of the preparations were a blur. You avoided Sunghoon as much as possible, communicating only when absolutely necessary. Every interaction was charged with tension, a constant reminder of the unresolved issues and the hurt still lingering between you. The memories of the overheard conversation haunted you, making it difficult to focus on anything else.
Despite the strained atmosphere, you channeled all your energy into making sure the party went off without a hitch. Your friends noticed the strain but chose to focus on the upcoming celebration, hoping the event would mend the rift.
The party was in full swing. Music blared, lights flashed, and people danced and laughed. You kept your distance from Sunghoon, mingling with friends and trying to enjoy yourself despite the heavy weight on your heart. The venue was beautifully decorated, with fairy lights casting a warm glow over the scene. Everyone seemed to be having a great time, but you couldn’t shake the hurt and betrayal lingering in your mind.
Minji caught you alone near the drinks table and pulled you aside. “Hey, how are you holding up?”
You forced a smile. “I’m fine. Just trying to get through the night.”
She gave you a sympathetic look. “I know things have been tough, but maybe tonight can be a fresh start?”
You sighed, looking over at Sunghoon who was laughing with some friends. “I don’t know, Minji. It’s hard to forget everything that happened.”
“I get it,” she said softly. “But I’ve seen how he looks at you. I think he genuinely wants to make things right.”
Before you could respond, someone called Minji away, leaving you alone with your thoughts. 
As the night wore on, you found yourself on the balcony, staring out at the city lights. The cool night air did little to soothe your turmoil.
You heard footsteps behind you and turned to see Sunghoon approaching. He looked hesitant, his usual confidence replaced by a tentative vulnerability.
“Y/n..” he started, his voice soft. “Can we talk?”
You crossed your arms, trying to protect yourself from more hurt. “What is there to talk about, Sunghoon?”
He took a deep breath. “I’m sorry. I know I’ve been a jerk, and I know I hurt you. But you have to understand, Jake and I… we have a complicated relationship. I was just trying to impress him, but it was stupid, and I regret it.”
“Why should I believe you?” you asked, your voice barely above a whisper.
Sunghoon sighed, running a hand through his hair. “Because,” he said, stepping closer, “I miss you. I miss us. And I know I’ve screwed up, but I want to make it right. Not just for tonight, but for good.”
You looked at him, searching his eyes for any hint of deceit. “You think just saying sorry will fix everything? You humiliated me, Sunghoon. You made me feel like I meant nothing to you.”
“I know,” he admitted, his eyes downcast. “I’ve been an idiot. I let Jake’s influence get to me, and I hurt the one person who mattered most. But I swear, I’m willing to do whatever it takes to make it up to you.”
“Why now?” you demanded, your voice rising. “Why should I trust you now?”
“Because I’ve realized how much I’ve lost,” he said, his voice trembling slightly. “And because I don’t want to lose you again. Not when we’ve been through so much. I know I don’t deserve it, but I’m asking for a chance to prove I’ve changed.”
Something in his voice, in his eyes, made you want to believe him. The sincerity, the vulnerability—it all felt genuine. And maybe, just maybe, you could find a way to forgive and start anew.
“Okay,” you said softly. “But this time, no more cake pushing.”
Sunghoon laughed, a genuine, warm laugh that made you feel like maybe, just maybe, things could be okay again. “Deal,” he said, offering his hand. “Let’s make a new wish together.”
As you shook his hand, you felt a spark of hope. You both walked back into the party, side by side, and your friends immediately noticed the change. Minji gave you an encouraging smile, and Jake looked pleasantly surprised. Their eyes seemed to convey a silent message of hope and reconciliation, urging you both to embrace this newfound chance at rebuilding your friendship.
Sunghoon led you to the table where the birthday cake sat, a beautifully decorated strawberry shortcake, just like the one from your childhood. The room quieted down as everyone gathered around, sensing the importance of the moment. The atmosphere was charged with anticipation, a tangible sense of possibility lingering in the air.
Sunghoon turned to you, his eyes soft with sincerity. “Ready to make a wish?”
You nodded, feeling a mix of nervousness and excitement coursing through you. “Ready.”
Together, you both closed your eyes, allowing the weight of the past to momentarily fade into the background. At this moment, there was only the promise of a fresh start, a chance to mend what had been broken between you.
“On three?” Sunghoon asked, his voice a gentle reassurance.
You nodded again, a small smile playing on your lips. “One, two, three.”
You both blew out the candles in unison, the room erupting in cheers and applause. For the first time in years, you felt that familiar warmth of the bond you once shared, slowly but surely being rekindled. The collective joy of the moment washed over you, melting away the layers of resentment and hurt that had accumulated over time.
The night continued with laughter and joy, the tension of the past giving way to the lightness of the present. You found yourself by Sunghoon's side more often than not, the ease of your interactions reminiscent of the friendship you had once cherished.
As the hours passed, you found yourself engaged in heartfelt conversations, sharing memories and dreams with Sunghoon as if no time had passed at all. The barriers that had once divided you seemed to dissolve in the warmth of companionship, leaving behind a renewed sense of connection and understanding.
At one point, amidst the laughter and chatter, Sunghoon leaned in close to you, his voice a whisper in the bustling room. “I’m glad we had this chance, Y/N. I’ve missed you.”
You met his gaze, the sincerity in his eyes echoing the sentiment in your own heart. “I’ve missed you too, Sunghoon. Let’s not lose this again.”
He smiled, a genuine expression of warmth and affection. “We won’t.”
At that moment, surrounded by the people you cared about most, you knew that this was more than just a party—it was a celebration of forgiveness, of second chances, and of the enduring bond between friends. As you looked around at the smiling faces and heard the echoes of laughter filling the air, you couldn’t help but feel grateful for the opportunity to rebuild what had once been lost.
And as the night drew to a close, and the last echoes of laughter faded into the night, you found yourselves standing alone in the quiet embrace of the moonlit balcony. The world seemed to hold its breath, anticipation hanging heavy in the air as you gazed into each other's eyes.
Without a word, Sunghoon reached out, his hand cupping your cheek with a tenderness that stole your breath away. And in that fleeting moment, with the stars as witness to your reunion, you leaned in, your lips meeting in a gentle kiss that spoke volumes of the love and forgiveness that had brought you back together.
Now, every day with Sunghoon, whether it’s 365 or 366, will be a reminder of the bond you share—a bond strong enough to weather any storm. As you melted into the warmth of his embrace, you couldn't help but reflect on the journey that had led you here, from the pain of this stupid birthday to the sweetness of this moment, where love and forgiveness triumphed over past hurts.
217 notes · View notes
purpleyoonn · 1 year
Text
red string 2
Tumblr media
“our connection is determined by a tiny invisible string”
summary: you figured it was too late for your string to solidify, used to the idea of finding someone on your own, who also never got their string. However, your string began to tug when you least expected it, to the last person or people you would have ever thought.
genre: soulmate au, red string of fate au, poly au,
pairing: BTS (Yoongi centered) x Reader
status: ongoing (random updates)
warnings: slight yandere themes, insecure reader, alcohol, talks of jealousy, soul bonds, mentions of past abuse,
chapter warnings: soul pain, first meetings, running away, mc didn’t really want a bond, cinderella-esque plot line, mc is cynical, allusions to past abusive relationship, bad flashbacks, kind-of kidnapping but not really??, soul tug, mc has ptsd, 
I am not going to have a taglist for this fic. I will only be using the permanent taglist as its intended for all of my fics.
permanent taglist: @m1sss1mp​ @yourleftsock​ @skyys-universe​ @cryingpages​ @strxwbloody​  @drissteele​ @dustyinkpages​ @iamkookiesforyou​ @crushedblackroses​ @fluffy-canada-pancakes​ @blaaiissee​  @iiitsmaria​  @carolinexkpop​  @azazel-nyx​ @strawberry-moonpies​ @g-h-o-s-t-b-a-b-i​ @knjkitten​ @foreverweareyoung7​ @lachimolala22019​ @namuficxs​ @94z-93​ @kimgmzmc​ @thenaverse​ @dahliasbouqet​ @black-rose-29​ @tinyoonsblog​ @take-u-2-an0ther-w0r1d​ @stellauniverse​ @stupendouscookiehumanmug​ @tinyoonsblog​ @veronawrites​ @tatyhend​ @singukieee​ @m0v3m3ntsblog​ @exfolitae​ @butterymin​ @queen-in-the-shadows​ @anaspectoflife @welcometomyworld13 @slinekyu @ghostlyworld@svnbangtansworld @loisje123 @i-have-no-life-charlie @danielle143 @jcrml@softieyn @kyuupidwrites @friedlollipop @lulu-83​ @tokiodori​
masterlist // part 1 // part 3
-----------------------------------------------
Previously on Red String:
“If Mr. Min saw you carrying her, you would need the medical room.” The guard’s words were blunt, but a little worrying.
“Mr. Min? You don’t mean…” Hong visibly paled as he looked down at you, his mind making the connection you didn’t want to say. His grip loosens as Hyunsoo takes you from his arms.
“I don’t need to remind you of the NDA you signed, do I, Hongmin?” The man who found you shook his head quickly, before looking down at you once more and walking away. You could almost see his body shaking as he did so.
Still unable to move your neck, you grumble into the guard’s chest.
“So, how’s it goin?” You ask, your brain’s defense system seeing sarcasm as its only choice.
The guard assigned to you was immensely stoic; silent in a way you couldn’t even crack a smile out of the man as you grumbled to yourself.
“You know, this was not how I wanted to spend my birthday. I imagined, well, hoped for, a nice drink and take out with a crappy movie I could laugh mindlessly to. Not having fate move against me and trap me against the bathroom door.”  The guard just kept walking, sometimes stopping to adjust you in his arms as your body arguably continued to let gravity do its job, more or less against your will but who were you to fight against fate when it went with your own wishes.
“So, where are we goin?” You asked him, trying to get the man to crack, but he just continued to ignore you. You weren’t going to give up though.
You could vaguely hear the music playing, the concert still happening as you were being brought to your doom. You wondered where the man was taking you, only slightly correct in the idea that you would be brought to a waiting room of some sort. However, you realized you were wrong when you were brought to a very nice room, three big couches taking up the left of the room while a couple of tables and vanities took up the other half.
The guard, and consequently you, only made it a couple of steps in before the door was being opened again. Well, more like the door was slammed open, almost flying off its hinges as the man you were trying to run from pushed his way into the room. You would have laughed at the growl coming from Yoongi’s lips if it wasn’t aimed in your direction, and a shiver raced up your spine. You were practically shaking in the guard’s arms!
Yoongi was surely gone, Agust D taking his place as the dark look in his eyes takes in your figure, resting in the arms of the guard he had assigned to watch you. He couldn’t explain the rage he felt when he saw you in the arms of someone else; someone who wasn’t him! You were his bond, his red string! He could feel the growing possessiveness he held for you, his instincts screaming at him.
“Sirs, I—” The guard tried to explain but began to stutter after being pinned with six other glares that accompanied Yoongi’s; looks that radiated anger and power looked at him, and only then did the guard realize what he was doing wrong. He didn’t understand why the guard was holding you when he said not to touch you.
Yoongi just held his hand up, stopping the man from continuing his apologies, and stepped forward, arms reaching to take you from him. You only grunted, not exactly wanting to be in Yoongi’s arms but unfortunately, the stupid soul tug was still in effect. You couldn’t fight against the idol who now tightened his embrace around you and cradled you to his chest like a lost kitten. Like he expected you to jump from his arms any second and run.
Well, he wouldn’t be wrong.
It’s not like I could make it far anyways. You answered the stupid voice in your head.
You ignored the warmth building in your veins, ignoring the way Yoongi’s touch had your body unwillingly relaxing into his arms as you tried to move your head to see where your strings led.
You had almost forgotten about your fourth string, now split into four other pieces, each leading to the members you had yet to meet. You had seven total strings and each one led to one of the boys.
Man, Lindsey was right.
Let’s not tell her that, though. You internally cringed, knowing exactly how your best friend would react. The words “I told you so” would not be the last thing leaving her mouth, unfortunately. She would never let you live this moment down. Ever.
You couldn’t hear anything Namjoon was saying to the guard who brought you here, only seeing the dragon eyes aimed at the shorter man, and the way the guard was nodding every couple seconds. Within a minute the guard had all but ran out of the door, Namjoon turning to you with a smirk on his lips.
You were about to make some remark to the taller man smirking at you but your breath whooshed out instead when Yoongi turned you around and sat down with you still in his arms. He adjusted you so your head was resting back against his shoulder and you were facing the room, feeling entirely too exposed.
“You’re not very good at running, are you?” Yoongi murmured into your ear, causing that stupid, heated blush to creep up your neck and ears. You could practically feel the damn smirk creeping on his lips.
“You knew I’d be here.” You stated, now having put everything together. They were responsible for your and Lindsey’s seat changes and for the guards keeping an eye on you., making you feel watched and panicked.
“We did say we wanted to speak with you in private…” You turn your head to see Taehyung and Jimin seated on a smaller loveseat to your right. Taehyung had a neutral expression but you could see in his eyes something different, while Jimin was just hopeful, watching your own facial expressions carefully.
You look down at Taehyung’s words, feeling the pain of rejection and hurt all over again. You didn’t think you wanted to have a conversation that would lead to where you thought it was going to, so you wanted to avoid it all together.
It seemed Yoongi could tell where your thoughts were going, moving his arm from around your waist to slowly trail his fingers up your arm and to your wrist, turning your left hand over connecting his palm with yours, intertwining his fingers with yours causing the thick, dark red string connecting you to glow for a couple of seconds before returning to normal. The bond snapping back into place after being incomplete from your first meeting.
The first stage of the bond, the soul tug, was meant to ensure that the bond was being completed. This meant you now couldn’t go be more than a few feet from any of the boys once you had physical contact. By you running, and now Yoongi holding you, the first stage had begun.
You try to leave his grip, feeling the tingling and numbness in your toes starting to disappear, but unfortunately, the rest of your body was not so lucky. When Yoongi noticed your attempts, he smiled smugly, taking advantage of the fact that you couldn’t move or leave him by holding you tighter against him.
“Do you not feel the tug? Do you not feel the way your body relaxes against Yoongi’s touch, even against your own subconscious?” Namjoon’s questions have you tensing again, not wanting to answer his question, instead you stare at your bonds, noticing the tugging sensation and the ripples in color whenever one of them moves.
“Do you not feel the bond you so obviously share with us, the one you continue to fight against?” Namjoon continues, frowning as Yoongi leans back to rest against the back of the couch, your body unhappily following along. Your cheeks grow hot again, your body working against you and showing the way you feel about the answers to his questions, completely giving you away to the intelligent leader.
“Ignoring the feelings you have for the bond; it does not ignore the fact that we are soulmates. Your strings are connected to ours. You are ours whether you like it or not. We aren’t going to let you go and we aren’t going to just let you walk out of here without us by your side.” You open your mouth in shock at the leader’s words, wondering where in the hell he got is audacity from?! The rest of the boys were nodding their heads in agreement, as if they had already discussed this.
Which they probably did, the little voice in your head tells you.
You ignore the voice and you ignore the butterflies in your stomach at Namjoon’s claim. You hadn’t realized how much you would love the idea of being claimed until it was staring you in the face, with a little tilt of the head and a raise of the eyebrow.
Before you could argue against his words, you could feel your phone in your back pocket vibrating. You sighed out in relief and hoped you could use this as an excuse to leave.
Lindsey you are a life saver! You praised your best friend in your head, only to start cursing as you felt Yoongi reaching for your phone, his hand resting just a little too long against the curve of your ass before taking your phone out of your pocket.
“Give me—" You’re cut off but Yoongi pressing the answer button and pressing your phone to his own ear.
“Where the hell are you dude? You disappeared and missed the entire concert! I’ve been looking for you everywhere and trying to think nice thoughts while one of those guards from earlier follows me around!”
“I’m sorry about that. You must be Lindsey?” Yoongi’s voice was soft, like velvet as he spoke to your friend. You were in shock at the change in his voice, from sultry to being as sweet and innocent as can be.
“Who is this and why do you have my best friend’s phone?”
“This is—”
“Is this Yoongi? Oh my god! Uhm, you know what, never mind. Just make sure she goes to bed on time. She gets cranky in the mornings.” Yoongi wasn’t even able to get a couple words out before Lindsey recognized his voice.
Hmm. It seems our little soulmate told her friend about us. And she approves. Yoongi hummed to himself as Lindsey hung up the phone after promising she would give your things to the guard following her, assuming that he was working with the boys and she was right.
“Well, it seems as though your friend is just fine with you coming home with us.” Yoongi’s smile brightened as he watched the others faces light up, Jungkook was especially excited as he knew you were his age. He hoped you liked to cuddle, seeing as the others never liked to stay in bed as long as he did.
“What… I…uh?” You stammered, brain moving too slow as you tried to come up with a way out if this, forgetting the fact you still couldn’t move.
You hear a slap and see Jungkook bouncing in his seat, clearly excited for you to come home with them. He was slapping his thighs and talking animatedly to Jin about all of the things he planned to do with you. You would have been completely endeared by his plan to play video games with you if you weren’t internally freaking out.
“I can’t go with you!” You blurted out, cringing a little at how loud you were.
“Why not?” Hoseok inquired; eyebrow raised as he watched you come up with an excuse.
“I, uhm, don’t have any clothes.” You replied, a little proud of your quick answer only for your smile to shatter at Jimin’s words.
“We can give you some!” You paled at his own excitement, not wanting to crush his plainly obvious feelings of hope. Strike one.
“I don’t have any of my things.” Someone knocked on the door, Jin moving around to reveal a man holding onto your bag making you rest your head back against Yoongi’s shoulder, trying to think.
“Look, your bag is right here.” Strike two.
“You guys must be really busy. I don’t want to bother you or anything…” Your last hope to weasel your way out of the situation was destroyed by Taehyung, his smile wide as he counters your words.
“Actually, we planned for you to come with us anyways. We have the next couple of weeks free. You know, we don’t want the soul pain to start.” Taehyung has his own moment of satisfaction as he sees your face pale at his words, knowing all of your plans to leave were thwarted by him. 
Fuck, you cursed.
How in the world did you forget about the soul pain period?
It’s not my fault! I forget a lot of things.
Well, now you can’t be more than a couple feet from them without immense pain. Good job.
You had completely forgotten that when a bonded person meets their soulmate or soul group, completely, for the first time, the string snaps together, leaving each person with only a few feet of leeway to move away. It could last for several days or weeks, depending on the bond and how many people are connected. With your luck and how the universe seems to be against you, you guessed it would be months before you were able to leave.
Strike three and you’re out.
-*-*-
You pouted the entire way to the boy’s home, unable to move even an inch from Yoongi’s arms without the slight pain tugging at your chest making you groan out and want to gouge your heart out. How dare your body do this to you?
The boys, on the other hand, were all making bets on how long you would try to fight them. They could tell this was just some sort of defense mechanism and were all building their own individual plans to make you theirs. They knew it was only a matter of time before you were seeking them out.
“Welcome home, baby.” Jin smiled down at you as he unlocked the door. It made your insides tingle and made your head hurt all at the same time. For a second you couldn’t remember why you were fighting against this, everything becoming jumbled together in your head. You couldn’t remember the fear you felt for the bond, the trauma from your last relationship almost disappearing from your mind as Jin smiled at you.
Your thoughts were forgotten when Namjoon placed his hand on your back, helping you inside, through the living room and down the hallway until you appeared at the entry of a room with a very large, wall to wall bed. It looked like the comfiest cloud of softness you had ever seen.
You were practically melting at the idea of being able to lay in the soft warmth you could only imagine you would feel.
“Why don’t you get changed, baby.” Jungkook couldn’t help but smirk at your face, the way it changed from adoration to a deadpan as you looked up at him.
“I’m not changing in front of you.”
“Baby, I can almost guarantee you’re going to want to strip in front of me eventually…if it’s not me undressing you.” Jungkook retorted, smirk growing into a devilish grin as your eyes narrowed.
“You wish I would undress for you.” You snap back, trying to take a step back only for the tug to bring you closer than before. This makes Jungkook’s grin widen.
“Baby, it’s not a wish.” Jungkook pushes further, an inch away from being able to steal a kiss from your lips, and boy was he tempted!
Until he noticed the fear behind your eyes, causing him to step back and turn around. He was mortified! You had thought he was going to force himself on you?! He needed to talk to the others, but how were they going to do that when the soul tug was active?
When you were finished changing into the oversized shirt and shorts, you timidly tapped on Jungkook’s shoulder.
“I’m uh, I’m changed now.” Your entire demeanor had shifted, flashback after flashback trying to steal your vision as you forced yourself not to shake. You were scrappy, you knew that, but only to defend your own mind from what it saw as a threat. 
You could not put yourself in a position to be vulnerable again. (But you also didn’t want to let on that anything was wrong. You couldn’t have that conversation. Not right now, hopefully not ever.)
“I’m sorry if I pushed you. I was only teasing.” Jungkook tried to apologize, his hand reaching out to grasp onto your arm but you flinched away from him, the soul tug allowing you a few feet leeway.
“It’s uh, it’s okay.” You rushed out, trying to end the conversation before you could imagine where it would go. But Jungkook was observant, and he could practically feel the pain in your heart. Something happened. Something that had you flinching away and fighting a soul bond.
And he had a bad feeling about it.
647 notes · View notes
heartfullofleeches · 1 year
Note
real master of the cult shows up, they're eerily similar to monster reader, feeling surprised at finding another fellow of their species, simply deems it so that the monster reader HAS TO BE their designed mate
Otherwise, why would they look alike so much? They're destined to be intertwined together!
(light body horror)
Foolish creatures. To be so easily led astray meant they were nothing more than lambs to the slaughter. Trapped bewteen their reality and the next, the cult's true master could hear their celebrations to its very core. Their disgusting misguided joy mocks the beast in its pathetic state; its control on their minds weakened now that they've found new faith. No matter. The fools had done enough in their own right that their aid was no longer needed.
Black smog trickles from the fire in the center of the room. The ash in their air solidifies and conjoins into small crystals that float into the vivisected body on the alter. Its glassy eyes fog over, limbs spasming as the forgien angents poke at its blood deprived brain. Their legs sweep over the side of the table; the lack of organs making the body light and easier to control.
The corpse picks up the bowl next to where it lie, blood sloshing down the sides and over its limbs. It stumbles toward the fire and chucks the harvest in bowl and all. As the flames lick the ceiling, the body goes limp and subcome to the heat as the smog leaves and rejoins its true fold.
-
"I'm full, please!"
You use a claw to keep a stray fork from invading your personal space, much to your follower's sadness. Weak to their puppy eyes, you exhale and steal the bite of breakfast off their plate hopefully before the other's notice, but of course they do.
"My Lord! Would you like to try mine next?"
You moan in defeat. How things have changed. You went from not knowing where your next meal would come from, to being stuffed with home cooked foods daily. You felt horrible for tricking the camp, but in your defense you tried to tell them you weren't their god. The hopeless saps wouldn't here it, falling for your charms even when the veil began to rise. World domination could wait a year or so while they got you comfortable to life in the compound.
A loud boom rocks the entire cabin.
"̸W̵h̶e̶r̴e̷.̸ ̸I̷s̵.̵ ̶I̶t̵?̴"̷ ̷
Panic and confusion spread through the entire table, you all hurry outside to see the cause of the fuss. Fire pours from the main cabin's doors, injured cultists picking their fallen comrades off the ground and to safety in the trees. A large creature wrapped in shadows destroys the remaining foundation of the cabin as it squeezes past the frame, lifting the frightened human in its grasp to dangerous heights as it hiss.
"Where is the one you betrayed me for!"
"Th...ere." The cultist points over to you. They're lowered closer to the ground before being roughly discarded. You can see the deity turn in your direction.
"You."
Its upon you in the matter of seconds, daggered claws rearing to tear you in two as soon as it spots you, but- those eyes. They're just like theirs.
As you cower, it takes a long look at you. Teeth as black as coal, the spilt in your irises. Bit on the small side and lacking horns, but there's no doubt that you're the same breed. The creature thought that the cult's new ruler would be a slick talking mortal, not this.
"You... you're...."
The shadows shrink. They take your jaw in their palm, the anger in their eyes fading as the same realization they had flashes in yours.
"Perfection."
The deity coos as it pulls you in. "Oh, what an adorable creature you fools have discovered. I should smite you all and every member of your blood lineage, but I can't since you've found me such a delicious mate."
Mate?
They pull down the collar of your shirt. "This scar proves of our bond for I bare a similar burden. Tell me, love. How did you come by it."
You cover the scar with your arms. "Bad humans... Researchers."
Its eyes darken, a comforting hand gripping your shoulders. "I am the same. We have solace in that, and being the only remains of our kind. Even if the ancients prevailed, I have a feeling there'd be no better match for me than you."
Groans of pain remind you of the damage they've caused. You struggle in their grip.
"Oh? Are you fond of these insects, love? Do not worry. I may be weak, but I have enough power to restore their health and I will do so.. for a price.
2K notes · View notes
peachdues · 7 months
Text
IN THE NETHERWOOD
The “oh fuck!” teaser
Remember when I said a no-context spoiler for part 3 was “oh fuck”?
Here it is.
Tumblr media
Fuck. Fuck.
Douma wiped a single tear that fell down his cheek. “I’m so relieved to have finally found you, darling! You have no idea how long I’ve searched for you.”
He took a single step forward that sent you scurrying three steps back. “Get away from me,” you warned. “Go back to whatever hellhole you crawled out from.”
In a flash, he was on you, hand locked around your throat and eyes cold. “Where do you think you’re going, Y/N?” Fingers tipped with long nails — sharp, pointed, black nails — dug into the flesh of your forearm, easily piercing through the linen and suede sleeves of your blouse.
His speed had knocked the breath out of you — he’d been fast, abnormally, monstrously fast.
The horror sluiced through you as you realized no human could move that quickly; could wield the strength with which he now used to keep you rooted in place.
Douma wasn’t human.
As though he’d heard that very thought the moment it solidified in your brain, Douma smiled, revealing four, sharp fangs, longer and more wicked looking than even Sanemi’s in his half-shifted form.
He took a step closer, his sickeningly sweet breath fanning over your face as your former fiancé practically thrummed with excitement.
“The things I have planned for you,” he murmured, tracing the curve of your cheek teasingly with one clawed nail. There was a sharp prick followed by something warm.
He’d drawn blood.
Douma leaned in close and let his tongue — slimy and cold, just like his skin, trail teasingly up the line he’d drawn, humming at the taste of your blood.
“You’ll serve me well, Y/N,” Douma cooed, his hand squeezing your cheeks roughly.
“Just like all my wives have served me well; just like Kotoha.”
You could not stop yourself from swallowing, hard, as you tried but failed to find courage as death — painful and cruel looked you straight in the eyes.
Sanemi! You tossed out desperately down your bond, tugging on that internal string with all your might. Sanemi, it’s him!
You willed yourself not to cry; not to tremble, as the monster with the iridescent eyes looked at you like you were the main course of a feast made only for him.
Douma’s smile was predatory and it made your knees buckle and your resolve crumble.
You were going to die. Slowly. Painfully.
SANEMI.
The village Worship Leader trailed a hand down the side of your throat until it came to rest on that spot between your shoulder and neck. Right over the top of your mating mark.
“We can’t have him interfering before our fun begins,” Douma shook his head, his eyes mocking. “After all, I need him good and wound up when he comes for you.”
Fear melted into something more primal in your gut — something hotter, more paralyzing, that would not let you look away from his monstrous gaze no matter how much your brain begged you.
Douma hummed softly to himself as he sunk a nail into your skin, tearing easily through the layers of your cloak and tunic. You screamed as he dragged it down, directly across the mating mark Sanemi had given you all those weeks ago. The mark that was supposed to link you to him; to give you a direct line of communication to your mate when you needed him most.
Beneath the hot burst of blood that trailed Douma’s nail as he ripped your skin open, something cold washed over you, like a flame being snuffed out by a burst of winter wind.
Douma’s hand wrapped around your throat, choking off your scream.
“Sleep,” he commanded. Your stomach dropped with the realization that the Netherwood had begun to fall away as your vision tunneled.
You desperately tried to tug on the bond once more, pleadingly, to alert your Huntsman that you were well and truly doomed. But there was nothing there; no invisible string you could pull, no connection with Sanemi that you could draw upon to let him know.
As your consciousness faded, so too did any remaining hope you’d had that he would come for you.
For the mating bond had been cut.
192 notes · View notes