#I always forget that I don't live in a bubble

[luhafraser]

I couldn't care less, Anon... 😜

People spend every/all day here speculating this or that about the lives of two people who aren't even members of their families. There are some bloggers who try to track down everything about Sam's life. No one here has the right to say this or that about anyone...

Finn, over the years, had his account open and private a few times. He blocked accounts he didn't know, but he let other accounts continue to see what he posts... Why would that be, right?! These accounts followed him because of all this crap that Sam and Cait created and that makes people curious... I posted his story, so what? I didn't go to Cait's wedding church to investigate, or to her father's funeral, or wait for Sam or Cait in front of their houses, and that doesn't mean I'm here criticizing whoever did that, right?!

Several bloggers look at other people's IG accounts to find stories/reels that Sam and Cait might be in, people who have nothing to do with Sam and Cait... And for many here that's ok... Looking at other people's accounts to find anything about them... Do you think it's okay to look into the life of a stranger, and even track that person's steps, to find out about Sam and Cait? Do I think it's right? No... Have I done it? Yes... Who am I here to judge?! Who here can really point the finger and say this or that about someone... 🤫

Now, what a crime, right?! Posting a story from a private account, from someone who, even with his private account, chose accounts to block and others to continue looking what he posts... Wow, what an awful person, but everything else is ok and moral... Oh, please... 🙄 It's funny that no one thought it was a bad thing when I posted places that Sam and Cait had been to, and that they supposedly didn't want people to know the addresses, right?! 😜

I stayed away from all of this a little because my life outside this bubble is my real life... This "here" is a hobby, not my routine, at least not anymore. I really don't understand why there are so many attacks from all sides...

No Anon, I don't want to draw attention to myself, I post as a hobby (as I've said...), and when I posted places it was for the fun of looking for them, and because I thought shippers should know... Obviously, all the engagement that a post generates is nice, comments and everything... Who here doesn't post to have this interaction and see opinions... to think of their own theories?!? Yep... And I will always have shippers as my favorite side here 🩷🥰 ... No matter what happens! 😉

And no Anon, I'm not old enough to be Finn's grandmother... I'm barely old enough to be his mother and what does that have to do with it?!? Another thing we all judge here... Age... Why are women so hostile to each other, right?! Why are we like this? 😕

Let's not forget that for years several bloggers have been posting content from private Facebook groups and even from MPC... I could spend all day talking about how this has already crossed all limits and how no one should judge others here...

Thanks for your hateful words and Welcome to the OL fandom on Tumblr... A bubble of fun, but full of hate between women and a lot of hypocrisy! 👋

[buck-up-buttercup]

Head-canons on how the Love & Deepspace men comfort a sad MC. I hope this helps anyone in moments of sadness, anxiety, or doubt.

Intro:

It's been a harrowing week. You're overworked, tired, and not taking proper care of yourself. Needless to say, your mental and physical health are lacking. Because of this, you continue to make small mistakes. You're embarrassed, frustrated, and so very tired. Jenna demands you take the next three days off to recuperate yourself. While this is supposed to be a relief, you can't help but feel the shame bubbling up inside of you, on the cusp of boiling over. "Rest well and don't forget to eat! Please call me if you need anything." Tara gives you a reassuring hug before seeing you out. Feeling at a loss, you are in desperate need of comfort. Taking care of yourself even feels like too much on your plate right now. Because of this, you dial the person you know who would do absolutely anything for you in a heartbeat...

Xavier

"Hey." Just hearing his voice answer the phone makes your heart swell and your eyes brim with tears. "...Hello? Y/N, are you there?" "Y-Yeah, sorry..." The moment he hears the tremble in your voice as you attempt to answer, his response is swift and his voice is laced with concern. "Where are you?" Your voice is quiet, "I'm sitting on a bench a few blocks from the association." "I'm on my way, sit tight."

You assume it's due to his ability to teleport that he's able to get to you so quickly. You keep your head down, trying to look as though you're distracted on your phone to hide the fact you have tears pooling in your eyes that you're barely managing to keep from spilling over. You notice Xavier once he kneels before you and immediately encircles you in his arms. He presses your face against the crook of his neck. "Let's go home, okay?" "Please."

Xavier brings you to your apartment. He makes sure you're seated on the couch before asking if you need something. "Just... sit with me..." He doesn't hesitate and immediately pulls you into his arms. He doesn't ask you any other questions. He knows you'll talk about what's upset you if you want to and that for the moment, you just wanted to be held by him. He'd stroke your hair soothingly. You couldn't hold the tears back anymore.

Xavier would hold you for as long as you wanted. Thinking about why you were in this state choked you up, but you wanted to finally open up about your feelings. "Xavier, how do you do it? How are you so good at everything you do? You make it look effortless, too. The only time I've ever seen you struggle is when you tried to beat that claw machine you were so suspicious of that one time." You giggle through the tears as you recount that memory, but Xavier knew you were being serious. "Hmph... I'm flattered you think so highly of me, but I've lived long enough to see my fair share of struggles and mistakes." You sit up to meet his eyes. "What do you do when you're overwhelmed from all your struggles and mistakes?" He pushes your hair out of your face. "Sleep." You couldn't help but to laugh and he smiles softly at that. "Yeah, I am lacking in that department lately." Xavier would take that as his cue to lift you bridal style and carry you to your bed. He'd pull out comfier clothes for you to change into while he went to fetch a glass of water for you.

Once settled in bed, you'd both snuggle up together. "Sometimes I wonder if I'm cut out for all of this," You'd mumble into his chest. "Definitely. Just because you're human doesn't mean you aren't one of the most capable hunters I know." You sigh. "Besides, not just any hunter is worthy of being my partner." He'd huff a small laugh and kiss you on the forehead. You'd laugh softly and hug him tighter. "Get some rest. I'll always be here for you."

Zayne

"Hello?" As guilty as you feel for calling someone as important and busy as Zayne, you are so grateful he picked up the phone to answer you. "Hey! Um, you're not busy, are you?" You couldn't hide the shrillness of your voice from the overwhelming emotions you were experiencing. You could tell Zayne caught onto this. "For the moment, no. What do you need?" You struggled to come up with a straightforward answer. "Well, I just... I..." He waits patiently for you to gather your words. "I guess I just am having a bad day and wanted someone to talk to." Your eyes well up as you try to get the words out. "I hate to bother you, you were just the first person I thought of to call." The anxiety in your chest hurt and you wondered if your voice sounded as shake-y as you felt. "You're never a bother, Y/N." Zayne's voice was gentle and soft. You feel like you can breathe again for a moment, though the tears start to fall as you relax at his words. You sniffle, "I feel like that's all I've been lately." "Y/N, where are you?" "I'm hiding in that cafe a few blocks from the association." You offer a weak laugh to try to play it off like a joke. "I'm on my way."

You're antsy until he arrives. He approaches your table in the corner of the cafe. You are thankful he has a calming air about him, his demeanor never fails to help anchor your emotions. "Do you want something to drink or eat?" He offers. You shake your head, "no, thanks." He observes your face for a moment and then nods. You watch as he goes to order something at the counter. You mull over what to even talk to him about as you wait. So much was on your mind and you wanted to avoid crying in public. He returns with a scone and coffee for himself along with your go-to order. "Just in case," he says before you can object. "You seem like you need a pick-me-up." You nod and meekly respond, "thank you."

You enjoy the food and beverage he got you as you sit in silence for a few moments. You're not decided on how to break the ice and truly just enjoy his company in this moment. As you seem to be lost in thought, Zayne nudges your foot with his under the table. You meet his gaze and he holds out his palm. "Do you remember when we were kids, you got upset the neighborhood kids wouldn't let you play with them? You tried really hard to hide being upset and went to play by yourself." You recall the memory. "I made you this to try to cheer you up." a small snow cat appears in his hand made by his Evol. You smile sadly and take the snow cat from him to admire. "You've always been good at making people feel better. It's what makes you a good doctor." His gaze is soft as a small smile graces his face. "I wish I could be half as good at my job as you are at yours." His brows furrow. "Is this what's caused you to feel this way? A bad day at work?" You nod and look away. "Not just one, unfortunately. I feel like I can't do anything right." Zayne takes the snow cat out of your hand and places it on the table. He softly grasps your hands in his. "We all have bad days, even I do. You shouldn't beat yourself up over it." You nod, squeezing his hands. "Easier said than done." "I know. It's because you care and caring is what makes you good at your job. You're a passionate person. You always strive to do your best." You groan slightly, "if this is my best, then I'm screwed." Zayne shakes his head, "sometimes our best is getting a full night's sleep. Sometimes it's eating a meal. How can you improve if you don't prioritize your own health?" Your eyes start to water, "I am so tired, Zayne." "Go home, clean yourself up, and change into something comfortable. I'll come over after work... Doctor's orders." You smile with relief knowing he cared so much for your wellbeing. "Sure thing, doctor."

That evening, he brought you dinner, watched TV shows with you, and did everything to ensure you were comfortable. Having someone prioritize you like Zayne did made you realize just how much weight was on your shoulders before being lifted by him. "Next time you start to feel overwhelmed, tell me. I am always here to help you."

Rafayel

"What's up, cutie?" You can't hold back the sob as you hear his voice. "Whoa, Y/N, what's the matter?" "Rafayel, I need you to come pick me up." "Tell me where you are, I'll be right there." Your voice is weak and hushed as you try to regain control of your emotions. "Ah... I'm hiding in the lobby bathroom at the association. Just tell me when you get here, I'll come meet you outside." "I'm coming."

It isn't long before you get a text that he's here. You clean yourself up and walk out of the association. Rafayel is waiting right outside the front doors. The moment he sees you, you can see the look of worry on his face. He gives you a brief hug, kissing the top of your head before he leads you to his car, opening the door for you. You feel somewhat uncomfortable, probably due to your embarrassment at struggling not to cry. He sees this and gives you a knowing look, reaching for your hand and holding it the whole ride to his place.

Once at his home, he sweeps you up in a full body hug, picking you up by the underside of your thighs. You wrap your arms around his neck and your legs around his waist. He carries you to his bedroom, laying you down and showering you in kisses. "Wanna talk about it?" You sigh, looking up at Rafayel as he hovers above you. He strokes comfortingly along your hips. "I might cry if I do." "Nothing wrong with crying." You hum. "Sometimes..." you hold your breath as you try to keep in a sob. Rafayel crawls onto the bed, sitting down and pulling you onto his lap. "You need to let it out, cutie. You might be my bodyguard, but you don't have to hide from me in order to act tough." A dejected laugh escapes you and you meet his eyes with yours, fat tears finally spilling over and falling down your cheeks. "Sometimes I feel like all I'm good for is making messes for the association and making a fool of myself." "That's not true. Our mistakes don't define us. Besides, some of the most beautiful things are made out of the biggest messes. Don't overlook your good qualities and all the wonderful things you do just because you can't see past that mess." You can't keep a small whimper from escaping you as you hug his neck and cry into his shirt. He rubs your back and holds you tight. After a few moments, you try to lighten the mood. "You're pretty wise and poetic. Maybe you should be the next Bob Ross." You giggle and poke his side. "Pfft. As if. No one can replace Bob Ross." You laugh.

Rafayel would make sure you're well fed and run a bath for you. The bath makes you realize just how tired you are. Rafayel wouldn't leave your side, making sure you're tucked into his bed and feeling as loved and pampered as possible. "You're the most amazing woman I've ever met. Don't belittle yourself anymore, okay, cutie? I won't allow it."

Sylus

"Hey, sweetie." You can't help but to sigh in relief that Sylus is available and awake to answer your call. "Sylus, can I come over?" "You know you don't have to ask. You sound upset. What's the matter?" "Ah, I'll tell you later. Are you gonna be at the base? I don't... want to be alone right now..." Sylus sighs before speaking with a voice that seems almost too soft for the leader of Onichynus to be capable of using, "sweetie, do you need me to come get you? Are you okay?" The tears begin falling, overwhelmed by just how sweet he's being and how badly you needed his comfort. "I don't know..." You hate how helpless you sound but you're so exhausted and so desperate for Sylus, you can't hide it. "Okay. I'll be there in 10. Don't stray far." You sit at the top of a parking deck not far from the association while you wait on Sylus. He seems to always keep tabs on your location and never follow speed limits, fulfilling his promise of arriving at your location in a mere 10 minutes on his motorcycle. You're pulled from your sitting position right into his arms with the use of his Evol. You cling to him of your own volition, comforted by his arms wrapping around you. His helmet is off and he kisses the top of your head. "Sylus..." You mumble his name into his chest. "It's alright, kitten. I've got you." You whimper as the sobs begin to wrack your body.

Once your crying begins to cease, Sylus puts a helmet on your head as well as one on himself before driving you back to his base in the N109 Zone. You're thankful that you don't see the twins in your current state, either their absence being due to a coincidence or Sylus having them give the two of you space. Sylus carries you into his bedroom, not letting you go for even a moment. He doesn't press you for an explanation and you're grateful since you still aren't sure how to put your feelings into words. He helps you strip out of your uniform and into one of your more comfortable outfits he keeps for you at his place.

Now feeling more at peace and comfortable, you reflect on your feelings with some clarity. "Jenna gave me three days off because I've been overworking myself." Sylus listens intently, his eyes soft as they read your expressions. "What's frustrating is that I don't even have very hard assignments with my job right now. I get behind on sleep and I lose time in the day for a meal because I keep making mistakes on small tasks which then fill up all my time trying to fix or redo, and... ugh. I just can't get a grip on anything and I'm overwhelmed and I'm tired, but I feel so stupid..." Your eyes begin to water again. "You're not stupid for struggling, sweetie. Jenna did the right thing giving you time off to take care of yourself. You shouldn't be so hard on yourself." Sylus pats his thigh for you to come sit on his lap on the couch. You oblige, though you feel shy under his scrutinizing yet loving gaze. He tucks your hair behind your ear. "What starts as a small problem avalanches into multiple problems so quickly. I just feel embarrassed and like I shouldn't even make such small mistakes in the first place... It's become so much on my plate, I don't even know where to start." "Mm..." He appears thoughtful as he analyzes your words. "You need to start with prioritizing your own needs. You can't expect to be on top of everything when you haven't had the proper food or sleep." You nod your head. "I haven't had an appetite or a good night's sleep in maybe a week or so. Most of the time, I'm just getting a few hours and running on caffeine and a few snacks throughout the day." Sylus clicks his tongue. "Next time this happens, kitten, you need to use your resources better. Anything you could possibly need, I can help provide." "I know, I just am not used to asking others for help. It's not that I don't want it, I just forget it's there." "Well, that can't be a plausible excuse anymore." Sylus carries you to the kitchen and sits you on the counter. He throws together something filling yet quick and easy. You thank him for it before eating it.

After eating, he takes you to the bathroom to wash up. You brush your teeth while he changes clothes. Once you've washed up, he sweeps you up to carry you to bed over his shoulder. You laugh and he's happy the notion was able to illicit some humor out of you. Once in bed, he kisses you from your shoulder to your jaw. "Use me whenever you need, sweetie. Everything I have is yours."

Caleb

"Heya, pipsqueak. What ya up to?" His voice was something that could always help ground you when you felt overwhelmed. "Oh. Uhm, well... I'm headed home early. Wanted to see if you were able to talk for a little?" "Hmm? What's the matter? I can tell something's wrong." Ah, Caleb... Always able to see through you, even over a phone call. Though a part of you wasn't sure what to tell him, you knew you wouldn't have called him if you weren't seeking his comfort. "Well, I have been having a rough time at work lately, so they gave me the next few days off. Honestly, it's... embarrassing." Your throat burns as you realize how ashamed you are to tell someone as smart and capable as Caleb that you've been told to take days off for not doing your job well. "Hey, it's okay. Wanna come stay with me these next few days? Give you a chance to take your mind off of things in Linkon?" Your tears fall as you smile at his offer, knowing that was exactly what you were hoping for. "Yes, that sounds great."

You didn't even pack your bags, you felt so tightly wound and desperate to see Caleb, you immediately made your way to Skyhaven to see him. You use the code Caleb gave you to his place to unlock the door. Once inside, you smelt popcorn and followed the smell to the kitchen. There, you found Caleb putting together a tray of your favorite snacks. "Hey, pipsqueak. I thought you might like to watch some of our favorite movies together? Help wind down some." You paused for a moment, letting his words and actions sink in. You were so grateful for someone who knew you and cared for you as much as Caleb did. Overwhelmed by how touched you felt, the tears started streaming again. Caleb immediately frowned and reached for you. You met him halfway and you both embraced each other in a hug. "That rough, huh?" Caleb asks. "I just feel like such an idiot." Caleb cupped your face and made you look at him. "Don't say that, Y/N. It's not true." "But it's how I feel. I can't help how I feel." He wipes your tears with his thumbs before bringing you in closer for another hug. "Then let me help you feel what's really true." He kissed your head and backed you towards the couch before sitting you between his legs and pulling you against his chest. "Y/N, you're amazing. You're bright, stubborn, funny, kind... beautiful. You should never think any less of yourself." You nuzzled your face into his neck and let out a shake-y breath. Your voice was small, "...thank you, Caleb. I'm just overwhelmed. I'm not my best self right now." He pet your head. "It's okay not to be okay, pipsqueak. It doesn't make you any less amazing. Just take it one step at a time. I'll be with you every step of the way, too." You tearfully smiled and nodded. He kissed you so gently, so lovingly. You were finally starting to feel grateful for the three days you received. You wanted as much time with Caleb as possible.

[icewindandboringhorror]

Various recent pictures of things

[k6tzie]

COD P☆RN LINKS | PT. 3

ghost: always so quiet and reserved, seeing you like this is refreshing. so humane having ur guts rearranged after doubting your lieutenants skills! dove, you're so needy. but luckily for you, you have a patient, big bf came back from prices' baby shower now u and si want a baby of ur own, but u can't wait:( doughy ass bouncing on his long cock that no one's sucked in over a year, thankfully now ur here! sharing the captains daughter with soap<3 trusting is hard for him, so once he has you, he doesn't wanna let go warm winter fuck with ur gentle boy price: once you taught olderbf!price how to make hotter videos, he thinks he's so much cooler but that old man lives within him💔i mean look how he's holding the phone! you feel a big, throbbing thing in your tummy, hopefully he doesn't press down on it D: when u took him to meet ur parents, you just looked too good not to fuck afterwards :( as much as he loves his quiet girls, he can't say no to a bubbly one night stand now can he he didn't wanna have to do this but this IS what bad girls get... dadsfriend!price taking you upstairs during the bbq. there's so many people so no one will hopefully notice ur gone... soap: totally something soap would do, fucking you levitating 😭 first time having a crush this intense, taking sneaky photos of you, drawing you in his sketchbook, leaving you little gifts anonymously - now that you gave him a chance, he's too shocked to even do anything! honestly his dream is hot gf x loser guy he's a messy boy who likes his sex quick! so so much cum dripping out, it's like your boys' in heaven filthy gym partner can't keep his hands to himself only one person can eat you this well when you're sick, soap! gaz: your drunk sex was so good, you won't forget it even when you're sober <3 appreciating that pussy with the love and tongue it deserves so wet and tight like ur ex boyfriend did nothing at all smh, must've been tiny deeeeep in ur gfs womb! pretty boy barely ever gets angry, but when price has been on his back the whole week, and now you're giving him attitude - he can't take it anymore! hot belly bulge - who would've thought from the serene, goofy guy? graves: ah, so THAT'S how you passed recruitment i see, interesting... what a baby, never been with a real woman. actually a very soft, sensual man. don't mistake him as rough cuz of how he acts at work lucky shadow of the week gets to record the barracks bunny and graves kept trying to draw milk out of you but he didn't realise not everyone just...lactates :(he can't stop rewatching this video y'all took, how your greedy pussy just swallows his dick whole :o purposely just teasing you so he can see u angry konig: an efficient way to wake up his beautiful baby✨ his cold tongue and your warm socks make an interesting contrast🤔 he caught you masturbating all by yourself and you didn't seem to reach ur full potential :( loser!konig coded, once he finally gets his rough hands on you, it's hard letting a beauty like you go ruined ur cute little panties smh, greedy big boy mean colonel punishing his secret fuck buddy after he found out you've started talking to another person💢 bonus!!: surprise ;)

@xtrrdnrypotato @livingdead-g1rl

[queenofzan]

me like, well maybe i just don't know as much about black masculinity as i thought. maybe i'm reading this wrong bc i'm white

like i didn't literally go to prom with a black gay dude???

[deathbxnny]

Arcane women seeing you again after cheating on you. | Vi, Caitlyn, Sevika x Gn!Reader

(Part 1)

Here is the part 2 that you guys asked for! I hope you'll like it!<3

Summary: Arcane women see you after they cheated on you a year ago. How will you react to seeing them again? And most importantly, who's that person you're with that seems to have stolen your heart from them?

Content: TW!Past cheating, angst, jealousy, swearing, probably ooc, sfw

Reader has no mentioned pronouns.

((Not proofread))

》VI

She never got over you.

It didn't matter how much time passed or how long she spent trying to forget you. You were always there at the forefront of her mind. And it drove her mad, not to know where you were. She looked all over for you after the mission, yet it seemed like you had disappeared off the face of earth, never to be seen again even during the war. Vi couldn't even find you in the aftermath of it, her heart empty and broken without you.

Her relationship with Caitlyn was practically non-existent now, as the woman felt near insecure of Vi's idealistic image of you she could never compare to. It was depressing and toxic until it eventually blew up in her face, and the Kirammann distanced herself as well for good.

And now the woman was alone.

Your words rang true, and yet you weren't even here to tell her, "I told you so". She had lost everyone she loved, being driven mad by the solitude she had brought onto herself. It was unfair and unjust, even if some of it was deserved. Just some. Eventually, the sadness turned into anger over the last year. Anger towards you. Why couldn't you be here after what happened? Why didn't you understand that it was a mistake? Hadn't she atoned for her sins enough? What else did she have to lose for you to come back? Rage, frustration, irritation. It all plagued her, as she thought of how your meeting would go if she ever sees you again.

But nothing she ever prepared was enough for when it did happen. She never thought it would. She never thought she'd see you again. And yet there you were, happily holding onto another person's arm, as you beamed up at them. You never looked like that with her. You were never this bright and giggly at her side. There was always something to be stressed about. There was always something to argue about. There was always something that made you frown around her. Whether it was because of the circumstances you were in or her own actions, you were never content.

So she stood there, in the shadows, as she gazed at you intensely from under her hood. For a moment, she considered just turning and leaving, but the internalized rage was bubbling up dangerously. She lived with survivors guilt every single day, and you go to have your happy ending? She couldn't believe it. She couldn't ever dream of you moving on from her. Marching up to you, your partner saw her first before you did, their eyes hardening protectively. Pulling you closer, they stood unmoving in the face of doom. "Can we help you?" They asked when she was close enough, but her words died on her tongue when your eyes met hers. And then there was deafening silence.

"I..." "Vi. What the hell do you want?" You hissed out, clearly not having it. You were sick of her after what happened. You, therefore, refused to let her wedge herself into your life ever again. "Actually, I don't care. Get lost." You tried pushing past her with your partner, but she wasn't moving. Instead, she blocked your way. "Please just... hear me out! I've lost everyone whilst you're out here fucking around with some randoms! Do you know how long I've looked for you? How much I've suffered?" You stopped your lover from saying anything with a hand against their chest. You can handle this.

"And I get that I fucked up! But don't think that you're completely innocent in this either." She was breathing heavily, the slightest smug relief filling her at finally saying what she had always dreamt of... but alas, you gave her the most unimpressed look possible as you scoffed. And then you began laughing. Right in her face. "Hah... that was funny... anyways, as I was saying, get lost." Finally being able to push past her, you two casually continued doing your shopping as though nothing happened.

She was left behind in shock at your uninterested reaction, as the realisation finally set in that she truly has lost everything.

》CAITLYN

The aftermath of the war was nothing short of agony to everyone, especially to Caitlyn, who had yet to find a trace of you. Last she heard, you left the city via skyship and disappeared into the blue skies forever, leaving her behind for good. It was miserable to live without you, near unbearable, and yet she kept it together with the smallest hope for your return to her.

It was pure delusion to everyone but her to hold onto such a ridiculous wish, considering she was the cause of it.

She lies awake at night thinking of your heartbroken gaze, the memory, and the words lulling her to sleep in tears. And a year later, the day of your disappearance felt as vivid as ever, as though no time passed. She could never move on. Never rest for as long as she couldn't tell you about how remorseful she felt. You were right in not trusting Maddie for a multitude of reasons. But she was so stuck in her ways due to the grief and pain that she lost the best thing that happened to her. The one person that kept her together and sane.

How was she ever going to live on now?

Whenever she did sleep, she dreamt of you coming back to her, allowing her to apologize and move on from everything she had done. It was perhaps selfish, and she was at least self-aware enough to acknowledge that, but it didn't matter to her in the long run. She just wanted you back no matter what. It didn't matter how or when. She just had to have you. And as though the gods momentarily heard her prayers, a small part of her wish finally came true after twelve long months of waiting.

There you were, under the sparkling lights of the ballroom, happily conversing with long-lost friends as you sipped on a refreshing drink. She had heard the rumor of your return a while ago, skillfully ignoring the part mentioning your unknown companion, and made sure to attend this grand event best dressed, of course.

If you saw her, then you didn't turn to even glance at her once.

She understood why but wouldn't let the opportunity to fix things slip out of her fingers now. You were so close. So unbearably close at last. Cait approached you carefully, a simple clearing of her throat being enough to drive your company away for some privacy. And you were clearly not happy about that. But as usual, she ignored your disdain for her own gain unknowingly. "It's nice to see you again." She was hiding how excited she was, practically bursting at the seams with how hard she was containing it. Your reply was less thrilling, however. "Unfortunately so... I have nothing to say to you, so leave me be, lest my partner has to see you out." You huffed, a frown hiding behind your glass.

Dumbfounded and blinking, she raised a brow in surprise. Partner? Were the rumors true after all? She was in denial. Very deep denial at that. She must be hearing it wrong, yes, that's it! "I... I beg your pardon? Partner? As in companion or...?" She must've looked silly and disheveled as she stumbled over her words like a drunk. A hand pressing against her shoulder made her pause, as she felt a very irritated presence behind her. "It seems that the wine is getting to you, Ms. Kirammann. I believe it is, therefore, time for your departure. The car's outside." Your dearest partner has come to your rescue. And it seemed that this was a setup for your own small revenge.

Your lover owned this estate. It completely slipped Caitlyn's mind in her haste to get to you. How funny.

You hid in their side, wanting her out already, and the Kirammann decided to keep the last of her dignity intact by leaving with a curt nod. She definitely cried in the cab, though, unable to complain that all her waiting was for nothing.

You were never coming back to her.

》SEVIKA

If you fuck around, you'll certainly also find out.

That was your life motto, something you lived by and your enemies feared about you. Sevika often found it amusing to watch you enforce this to those willing to face your wrath, a certain pride welling in her chest at the pure violence you could display. Until she became the receiver of it. The scar on the back of her head proved it and left a bit of a bald patch, a constant reminder of what she had done. Also, a great humiliation tactic on your end, she has to give you that.

But that's all she had left of you too.

You up and left without a trace a year ago, and made sure she'd never see a glimpse of you again. The war came and ended, resulting in her becoming a councilor, but even then, nothing she did drew you back to her. You were supposed to share this glory with her, but she knew she was the reason why you didn't. She wasn't delusional or in denial about it. No, she was a grown woman who just made a stupid mistake, in her humble opinion. Nothing more or less. So why couldn't you see the same?

It was impossible to track you down, and for a while, she thought that you may have left the city entirely a while ago. Maybe you even died in the war somewhere. She didn't know what was worse, but either thought kept her up up night to ponder about all the what ifs.

If she hadn't done what she had done... would you still be laying at her side sound asleep? Would you be proud of her and support her for finally achieving her goals? Would you praise her? Love her? Cherish her so loyally like you used to? You were absolutely right in the end, after all. She never will and never wanted to find someone else like you. She wanted you and only you from day one, but it all seemed like a distant dream now.

And then, when she was just about to move on from you by force, you appeared in her life again so casually. You were dressed in foreign clothes, a content and sweet look on your face, as you conversed with your partner, who just so happens to be an emperor of a different land.

They have come here for some trade negotiations with the council, and of course, you had to come along. Their sweet, stunning spouse they couldn't talk enough of. Your partner spoke of the riches they spoiled you with, the endless servants at your feet, the way they too were very clearly wrapped around your bejeweled fingers.

You pretended not to know her, practically avoiding her gaze as you held onto your lover tightly as they talked away. God did it hurt her, too. She was burning up in jealousy, her gaze hardened and angry enough to make the other councilors scoot away from her.

And when she saw your partner give her an evil, knowing grin, she finally realised that this was all on purpose. Your spouse couldn't give less of a shit about Piltover. They just wanted to get back at Sevika for what she had done to you, just out of pure spite. She can't do anything about it either, something she acknowledged in defeat.

Her heart was empty and broken, but she'd never admit it, as she simply concluded the meeting and took her leave. If you were happy... then she supposed she'd be content with it, too.

[utterlyotterlyx]

Eden

Azriel x F!Reader

Summary - You had heard the rumours of the illustrious Shadowsinger, and you knew better than to get involved with him despite his eyes finding you. Though, everything changes after one fateful night, and you find yourself unwilling to be another one of his conquests.

Warnings - angst, swearing, mentions of blood, fluff, fuck boy to angel Az, jealousy, some sadness, suggestive tones

Based on this ask

Word Count - 11.5k (oops)

"You know that sleeping around isn't going to make your mate miraculously appear, right?" Cassian pretty much shouted across the table to Azriel, wincing and the loud thumping of the music and squealing laughter drifting through the dancefloor of Rita's.

Shrugging, Azriel continued to sip on his potent drink, so potent that it took the edge off of his misery for a few hours to allow him to enjoy being buried inside another female before he went home to only be surrounded by every single member of his family acting sickly in love.

At first Azriel only did it to forget about Elain and Lucien, at how she chose the fox over him, but then it spiralled into something more. It had become to poisonous and filled him with so much venom that he despised being around his family at all. He had moved himself out of the House of Wind to a small but cosy apartment on the outskirts of the city, mainly so that no one truly knew how many women he was bedding each week, but so that he could also escape the turmoil of mating bonds and happiness.

"I don't have a mate," Azriel admitted, truly believing that the Mother had chosen to restrict him of that single purity he had always yearned for.

His eyes scoured the crowd, trying to find a female he hadn't taken to bed yet, not wanting to fuck the same woman twice and lead her to believe that he wanted anything more from her than what he did.

"Don't say that," Cassian scolded lightly, frowning at his brother and worrying about the dimness laced in his eyes as they lazily dragged across the crowds. "She's out there, Az. You just have to be patient."

Cassian's words gave Azriel no hope. The Shadowsinger knew that Nesta disapproved of Cassian joining him in the evenings, and he knew that Rhys and Feyre were worried about his wellbeing, but he couldn't bring himself to care.

To care was to open himself up to more pain, and he couldn't do it again.

"No, I don't," Azriel downed the rest of his drink and rose from his place in the booth, rolling his shoulders and feeling his shadows peak up from behind his wings, just as solemn as their master. "You should get back to Nesta. I'll see you for training tomorrow," he mumbled, fixating his gaze on the woman he knew for certain he'd be taking to bed that night to forget how lonely he truly was, stalking toward her and leaving Cassian more worried than he ever had been.

There was something about clubs and alcohol that you despised. Maybe it was the way males kept on knocking into you without apology, or how they would lean in and shout down your ear in an attempt to get you to dance with them.

No. It was definitely the heat that you hated the most. How the sweaty bodies would writhe and pulse to the beat of the music with little care of the world raging on beyond the doors. A world you had ventured across to set up a practice in the Night Court, believing that it was where fate needed you to be.

"Loosen up, y/n," your slightly inebriated friend, Alana, childishly begged as she grabbed your hands and swung them in time to the melody. "This is your first night out since you got here. Have some fun."

Part of you wanted to listen to her, to truly give in and push yourself outside of the bubble of comfort your solitude had gifted you. It wasn't that you hadn't tried to, it was just that you enjoyed your quiet nights in curled up with a good book, and your days of healing and walking about the city. It was routine, and you were happy living within it.

Allowing Alana to twirl you around in the tight black cut-out dress she had forced you to adorn for the evening, you couldn't help but catch a glimpse of the most beautiful male you had ever seen as the world span. Stopping in your tracks, you watched his grin widen as a stunning blonde female wearing little to no clothing swayed against the front of his body, grinding her hips and ass onto him whilst his fingers tightened around her waist.

"Who is that?" Alana came to your side sporting a knowing smirk, biting her lip softly as she too watched the male move in rhythm with the woman in front of him.

Just as his lips floated downward, whispering and nipping at the shell of her ear, did Alana admit, "That's Azriel. He's part of the Inner Circle," her eyes moved to you, dragging from your feet up to your face, "And he'd ruin you, sweetheart."

"I'm not interested," you lied.

Alana saw straight through it, "Liar," she nudged, "There isn't a single unmated female in this city that doesn't wish that he wouldn't beckon them to his bed, and he's had many of them."

There was no way that you could compare to the woman in front of him, she had golden blonde hair and rouge painted lips, and she had a wildness to her that you'd never be able to own. And, like he knew that fact, his eyes moved upward to yours and you felt like he was searching the depths of your soul. The stare was so intense that you felt the heat rise to your cheeks and had no choice but to break the contact, and you felt his smirk rake over your body as you turned away.

For the rest of the evening, no matter how hard you tried, you couldn't stop yourself from finding Azriel from wherever he was in the room. Women flocked around him, but it was clear that he had made his choice, and you had to watch as the woman sauntered from the bar, dragging him behind her for an night of ruin.

And all you could do was wonder what exactly that would be like.

Nursing a hangover and little to no sleep thanks to the blonde feline Azriel had taken to bed that morning, the last thing he wanted to do was train with Cassian, but he knew he'd never hear the end of it if he bailed.

So there he was, clad in his leathers beneath the scorching sun, regretting all of his life choices.

At least he found something new out, something that his shadows didn't deem necessary to tell him. There was a new female in the city, one who reeked of Dawn, who was as beautiful as a setting sun in the depths of summer. Azriel couldn't help but picture her face whilst he fucked that woman, imagining her lips breathless and perfectly rounded, imagining the smoothness of her skin under his touch, and the subtle waves of her hair spiralling down her back.

It seemed that his wish to know more of her was answered the moment Feyre and Rhys stepped onto the training grounds atop the House of Wind, muttering about a new healer that Nyx had become obsessed with.

"Nyx just adores her," Feyre spoke with wonder, clad in her custom made training leathers that Rhys had made for her. "He let her give him his injections, he won't let Madja close enough to even try."

Rhys hummed in response, smiling at the memory and clearly pleased by the being he had welcomed into the city, "Well, Thesan did say that she is the best he's seen in a long time. I'm glad that she's here. It means that Madja can retire now if she wants to."

A new healer? From the Dawn Court?

No wonder she was so beautiful. She had been born in the most serene court of Prythian, she had probably grown up with the Peregryns, and had been trained by Thesan himself.

Turning his attention back to Cassian, Azriel couldn't help but let his mind wander to the healer he had seen the night before. It was strange how he found her eyes, pools of innocent bliss gazing at him from across the room that he couldn't help but be infatuated with. He still felt the pang of disappointment in his soul when she had looked away.

Training ensued without any issues, and by the end of the session Azriel was sure that he was going to throw up whilst Cassian seemed as chipper as ever. Nesta must have been nice to him when he returned home last night.

Just as Azriel went to flex his wings and return to his apartment as far away from the House of Wind, and thus Elain and Lucien, as possible, the clearing of a throat caused his feet to stick to the ground. "Az, a word?"

Rhys stood a mere few feet behind Azriel and watched as his tensed wings folded between his shoulders before he slowly turned to face him. "Is something wrong?"

"No," Rhys narrowed his eyes, still anxious about approaching Azriel considering the last time he had expressed his worry it had caused Azriel to move across the city. "I have a mission that I need you to go on. It's urgent. There's been increasing reports from the mountain camps that wing clipping has made a return. I need you to verify it."

It was one of the few things that truly got under Azriel's skin, the removal of wings from Illyrian females, usually little girls. Wordlessly, Azriel nodded, turning his back to Rhys and stepping toward the ledge that would plunge him downward, "I'll leave this afternoon."

And with that, Azriel extended his wings and propelled himself upward, ebbing and flowing over the scape of the city and trying to pinpoint where exactly the new healers practice was located. He had even sent his shadows out to continue the search when he had returned home, needing nothing more than the wash away the sweat and stench of alcohol alongside the lingering teeth marks peppered along his collarbone.

It made him feel disgusting. Azriel awoke each morning with a different female coiled around her torso feeling less like a man and more like a personal whore to the women of Velaris. It was tiring, but it was the only way he could tear his mind away from the pits of his immortal loneliness.

During his preparations, his shadows returned singing their findings.

The Sidra.

Beautiful.

Angel.

Sad.

Azriel wondered what in the world could cause something so incredible to be sad. And he vowed to delve deeper into the female upon his return, to find out what was the cause of her sadness and rid her of it.

If he couldn’t fix his own life then perhaps he could fix it for someone else. Someone who deserved it.

The sun had began to wane by the time Azriel was ready to leave for the mountain camps, he was dressed in his usual leathers with siphons glowering under the descending light. He didn’t bother looking back at the mess that was his apartment, he was used to looking back and saying goodbye to Cassian, and ruffling Nyx’s black mass of hair whilst promising the child that he wouldn’t be long.

But he was alone now, he had nothing to look back to.

It didn’t take The Shadowsinger long to reach the mountain camps. He landed far enough away to not be detected and approached the camps on foot, taking the time to try and evaluate when his life had become so unsatisfying and lifeless.

Looking into the eyes of that woman across the room at Rita’s was the first time he had felt alive, truly alive, in what felt like eons. And he was sure that he’d be chasing that feeling for the rest of his miserable days on the earth.

His wings were drooped at the tips, almost dragging along the floor, and his shadows continued on their melancholy journey slithering over his spine and shoulders before shivering and returning to where they had come from, searching for a speckle of warmth.

It was only when he heard the cries echoing from the centre of the camp did he truly focus on why he was there. The cries were whimpering, pleading, begging whoever it was to stop, and the voice was so gentle, so childlike and innocent that Azriel was beginning to lose the taut grip he usually had over his self-control.

Truthteller sang at his side, thirsty for a taste of blood, eager to take another life especially if it meant ridding the continent of another monster. Azriel was happy to indulge it.

Without wasting a moment, and without thinking, he entered the clearing in the centre of the camp and moved as fast as a phantom wind in cutting down the Illyrian males that deemed the barbarity acceptable, starting with the poor excuse of one that was towering over the cowering girl who had blood leaking from her ears and nose.

It was a bloodbath, and Azriel couldn’t bring himself to stop, not even when the arrows embedded themselves into his thigh and torso and caused his vision to blur. He could make out the pools of blood, and he could feel his shadows tightening around his limbs in attempt to get him to stop, and only when his breath became latched within his throat did he realise that there was no one left for him to maim, no one that would dare to face him anyway.

He hissed at the spreading pain being carried through his body, grabbing one of the three arrows and pulling it from his skin, smelling the arrowhead and cursing at the faint scent of nightshade laced to it.

Azriel knew that he didn’t have long, a few hours at most to make it home and get to Madja before the poison claimed him. Part of him wondered if there was any point, if living was something he truly wanted to do, but then he remembered her and the look in those beautiful eyes that had him craving life and adventure.

He decided to try. For her.

The last thing you were expecting that night was to be awoken in the early hours of the morning, when the moon was still alight in the star glittered sky, by a shouting High Lord and one of your assistants.

Your day had swam by like they all did, you healed, prescribed tonics, created balms and ointments from scratch, and visited the orphanage in the centre of the city, carrying out health checks so that everyone could rest assured that all of those beautiful children were healthy even if they weren't exactly happy.

Every patient that stopped by during the afternoon had much to tell you. After seeing you at Rita's the night before, they felt more comfortable in gossiping to you, realising that you were committing to their culture and activities. So you weren't exactly surprised when your fifth patient had something to say about Azriel.

You doubted that he even saw you through his drunken, lust-filled haze, but you saw him; you saw his hazel eyes lazily hooded and warm when they found you, you saw his lips tilt upward into a smile, and you saw the clear pain that lingered beneath the surface. Alana had told you, sternly, to not think of him, that he would be the ruin of you, but you couldn't help but think about him.

Now that you had the image of him, it was impossible to remove it from your mind.

Your mother would have scolded you for it if she were alive, she would have said that you had worked too hard and spent too long training to heal those who needed a kind touch to throw it away for some pretty male that hadn't even uttered a single word to you. She was right. As always.

Which made the entire situation a lot more strange, so strange that you had genuinely believed that you were dreaming when your assistant entered your bedroom above the practice and shook you awake.

"Y/N?" Priscilla asked, sheepishly shaking you before fumbling with her fingers at her front. "I'm sorry to wake you, but it's an emergency?"

Light spilled in from the slightly ajar door, and you could hear Rhys talking frantically from the floor below, his voice drifting up the stairs and into your ears.

It wasn't a dream at all.

You sat up quickly, causing all the blood to rush to your head, and you didn't bother to put any shoes on as you slid a plush cream cotton cardigan over your arms and barrelled down the stairs.

A gasp escaped your lips.

There lay Azriel on your examination table, blood smeared over his leathers and siphons, his skin pale and sickly, and his shadows limp in a circle above his head.

"Y/N." Rhys spoke, voice tense and wobbling, and your eyes snapped to him. He was also coated in blood, Azriel's blood, and the High Lord looked between you and his brother desperately. "Please."

Running your fingers through your unbound hair, your quickly threw it up into a loose set bun at the back of your head and quickly disinfected your hands before you moved to the Shadowsinger, to the same male who couldn't look more different than he had in Rita's.

"What happened to him?" Azriel groaned at the sound of your voice, not fully coherent but it was like he knew that it was you tending to him, and his shadow perked up for but a moment before slumping back onto the table.

Rhys was beside himself, raking his fingers through his hair and down the sides of his face. "I sent him to the mountain camps to verify a rumour," he told you, not wanting to give too much away, "He was shot with arrows, I think they were poisoned. He came back to us like this, barely breathing and mumbling some nonsense about wanting to look back."

"Did you bring the arrows?"

Within seconds, Rhys produced two of the arrows, and you noted that Azriel must have taken the third one out himself at left it in the mountains. You run your fingers along the wood, bringing the oaken arrows to your nose and scenting the oozing liquid coating the head.

"Nightshade," your voice faltered. It wasn't often that you saw anyone with nightshade poisoning, they usually didn't last so long, and the fact that Azriel had was a miracle.

You flew around the room, gathering various ointments, balms, and rags, ordering Priscilla to fetch a bucket of tepid water to keep his fever down.

"Azriel?" you called to him softly, and his head moved in the direction of his voice, "I'm y/n. I'm going to help you, alright? You just need to stay with me for a little while longer. Can you do that?"

A low whine passed through his lips, tugging at the strings of your heart, and you took that as his voice of agreement. Ordering Rhys to stand back and for Priscilla to press the dampened rag to his forehead, you began to work.

Slowly, you cut through his leathers to expose his chest to the Velarian air, noting every ripple and tense of his muscles and they writhed from the effects of the poison in his system. Without thinking, you rested your glowing palms against his abdomen, calling on every morsel of your power to dive into his veins and extract every drop of poison that lived within him.

Rhys and Priscilla watched in awe as the poison began to vacate his body through the entry wounds left by the arrows, they watched that black putrid filth run down the sides of his body and drip onto the stone floor. But you didn't stop, you wouldn't let a single tear of that poison live inside of him, and once the last drop had left him, Azriel opened his eyes and gasped.

The relief he was feeling must have been profound. His eyes trailed along your face, much enjoying this version of you than the one he saw at Rita's, noting the long lashes of your closed eyes as your power surged through him to ensure that his blood was clean. You didn't even realise that your eyes were closed until his clammy, trembling fingers curled around your wrist.

His eyes were weak and drowsy, he was rightfully exhausted, and you pulled your hands away slowly, the glow in your palms weakening more by the second. Then you moved your eyes to his face, his sickly pallid face and equally pale lips that were parted in shock.

And then you felt it, that golden thread withering in solitude connecting with its other half, entwining and thrumming in clear skies, burning gold in the pits of darkness.

"Mate." Azriel rasped, eyes wide and fingers fumbling to keep a hold on you, his thankful shadows trailing up your arms to steal the warmth locked beneath your skin.

You could feel Rhys' eyes on you, examining you, not knowing what to do or say in the moment.

"Right. Yes." Azriel's wounds were still open and angry, and that is why you couldn't fully adapt to what had just happened between you, not when you could feel his pain laced with hope flow down the freshly unlocked bond.

The rest of your work was done in silence. You applied thick balms to his wounds to urge them to close and disinfect before bandaging his entire torso and thigh, apologising when each wince would sound from his lips. And all he did was watch your face whilst you worked, he watched the furrow of your brow and the concentration within your eyes, and he realised why his mind was focused on you since the moment he had seen you.

You were his mate.

His mate.

His.

When you had finished, you turned to Rhys who was perched upon a nearby chair, observing in perfect silence, and beckoned him to follow you onto the porch of your practice, closing the door softly behind you whilst Priscilla continued to clean the blood and dirt from his skin. "He would have died if you had come five minutes later."

Rhys took a step toward you, "Will he be alright?"

Part of you had to admire Rhys for his care, for the way he cared about every member of his found family and how he would go to the ends of the earth to ensure that they lived, but another part of you hated him for sending Azriel to the mountain camps in the first place.

"He'll be fine. I suggest letting him rest, someone will need to watch him," your voice trailed off slightly, not knowing whether to offer or not considering the revelation that he was your mate, "I'll stop in and do regular checks over the next couple of days, but for now he just needs to be somewhere comfortable."

"I'll take him to the River House," Rhys promised, knowing that was the only place where Azriel could truly rest, and the only place where you could enter without having to go through the rest of their dysfunctional family. "How are you feeling?"

A thin smile tugged at the corners of your lips, "I'm fine."

"I meant," he took another step toward you, glancing down at the blood that now stained your cardigan and skirt of your night dress, "How are you feeling about Azriel being your mate?"

Peering over your shoulder and through the window, you saw Azriel looking up at the ceiling with a gentle smile on his lips. "I know who he is, his reputation. I'm someone who has given their entire life to be amazing at what they do, which means that I'm inexperience in other aspects. I don't think I'm the kind of woman that he wants."

Shaking his head, Rhys brushed against your side, "Trust me. You are everything that he has ever wanted."

All you could do was hum in reply, and you folded your arms over your chest to protect against the chilled winds as you stepped back inside, internally grinning at Azriel's effort to sit upright the moment you were back in his presence. You stopped at his side, "I've told Rhys to take you somewhere comfortable so that you can recover, and I'll stop by over the next few days to make sure that you're healing properly and that there aren't any side effects from the poison."

Azriel furrowed his brow, "But what about us?"

"Let's just get you healed first," you told him, doing your best to stay calming, "Then we can revisit everything else."

He wanted to say more, he wanted to take your hand and bring it to his mouth, he wanted to know what your skin tasted like on his tongue. He wanted to know everything he could about you, and he was desperate for it, so desperate that no words fell from his fumbling lips as he tried to force a reply.

Azriel felt like a schoolboy approaching his crush for the first time, and you noticed that the illustrious Shadowsinger was truly lost for words.

"You can take him now, Rhys. I'll come by in the morning."

"Thank you, y/n."

Azriel watched as you bowed your head to Rhys in acknowledgment, "Of course," you told him, your eyes finding Azriel one last time before all he could hear was the patter of your feet against the wooden stairs and smell the lingering scent of fresh berries and sweetened citrus.

Waiting for the morning was driving him insane already, but he would wait for you. He would always wait for you.

The morning had come too quickly, but sleep hadn't found Azriel that night, and he wasn't sure if it was because of the stabbing pains in his chest or the excitement bubbling in his gut at the thought of seeing you again.

After being fixed up, Rhys had winnowed them both back to the River House, Rhys refusing to let Azriel be anywhere else considering you have given him strict instructions to ensure an eye was kept on him, at least until he could walk on his own two feet.

He had forgotten how peaceful the River House was in his miserable meandering through life, he had forgotten its comfort, he had forgotten what it had been like to be around family. His room had been left untouched, his bed made and books still open on the last pages he had read splayed across the desk.

By the sunlight pooling onto his bedroom floor, Azriel could tell that it was nearing midday, which meant that you were going to be arriving any moment. Any movement made him wince, but he found enough strength to be able to sit up in the bed, he knew that you'd want to check the wounds beneath his bandages and wanted to make it easier for you.

His wings were tucked neatly behind his back, and his shadows were sleeping soundly atop his shoulders. Azriel was too busy watching them to notice the opening of his door, only realising that someone else was there when their scent worked its way into his bones.

"You're sat up," your voice was light and soft as you entered, medical bag in hand and dressed in a plain but beautiful taupe gown with low looped sleeves and a corset of brown leather. "That's a good sign."

Azriel's heart stopped at the sight of you, at your hair unbound but the front pieces held back by a cream coloured fabric headband, at the dress and the glowing of your skin in the warming sunlight.

With a small smile, you perched on the edge of the bed, unclipping the clasp of your bag and retrieving some small vials and tubs, setting them down on the bedside table and turning to him. "How are you feeling?"

"Better. Much better," was all he could manage to say, completely mesmerised by the hue of your eyes in the light and shape of your lips, "Thanks to you."

"It's no problem," you told him softly, reaching for the bandages around his torso and taking your time in unwinding them.

In a couple of days he would be as good as new thanks to his other-worldly healing beginning to kick in, and you told him as such as you reapplied the balm and placed two patches to the effected areas on his torso, carefully massaging the balm into the wounds to make sure that it did its job.

"I need to talk to you," he took your wrist in his hand before you could move your attention to the wound on his thigh, his eyes were pleading to talk about something other than his pain, you could feel it flow down the bond that you were trying to adapt to. "I need to know where your head is, with us."

"The moment you looked at me that night was the first time I felt that someone had actually seen me, even if you were drunk," you spoke with a huff of amusement, "You looked at me, and then you took a woman home who is infinitely more beautiful and wild than I am, and then I had to hear everything that everyone says of you. Forgive me if I'm feeling apprehensive and would like to just focus on making sure that you live."

Azriel understood, truly he did, but that didn't make the words sting any less. "I'd like to show you the real me, if you'll let me." His heart thundered in his chest at your silence, and the nerves settled in his gut and swarmed within his heart that was beating for you.

Unable to deny those rounded eyes brimming with hope for a brighter tomorrow, you sighed, "Fine," you told him, "Once you're back on your feet, I'll give you a chance. Now let me work."

The tone of your voice made Azriel release your wrist and settle back into the cushions of his bed, and he didn't make a single sound whilst you worked on the wound buried into his thigh, applying the same balm and wrapping it up before giving him instructions for the ointments and tonic to help the pain. "Thank you for saving my life."

Your eyes found his again and you could have melted at the pure desperation within them, "Well, I couldn't exactly let my mate die now, could I?"

"Will you be back?"

Azriel observed you as you packed up your things, disposing of the bloody rags and bandages in a wisp of smoke. "I have some errands to run but I'll stop by on my way home. Is there anything that you need?"

"Just you."

Even in his state Azriel was a shameless flirt, and you had to bite the inside of your cheek to stop the innocent smile from taking over your face, but you couldn't stop the blush from prickling at your skin, and a part of you didn't want to.

"I'll be back later. Eat something and rest, you need to build your strength back up. The tonics can help with the rest and the pain."

Azriel tilted his head in your direction whilst you gathered the last of your instruments, clasping your bag shut and rising from the bed. He knew there was a reason why he had been drawn to you, why you hadn't left his mind, and it was because you were his mate. The one fated to be his. The one thing he thought he'd never be able to have.

And gods, you were the most perfect thing he'd ever seen.

With a gentle and reassuring smile, you squeezed his forearm softly before removing yourself from the room and taking your time in making your way downstairs, dawdling in the halls to examine the artworks and ornaments lining them. Though, you weren't expecting to come face to face with Cassian the moment you moved from the last step.

He wore a shit-eating grin and stood before you with his arms crossed tightly over his chest whilst his eyes slowly drifted to the stairs and what, or rather who, lay resting on the floor above. "Always in the right place, aren't you y/n?"

Luckily for him, you had often been in the right places when he required some healing or tonics, whether it be for him or Nesta during her most recent cycle. "It's quite literally my job, Cass."

Cassian grinned and chuckled deeply, his orbs morphed into sincere and he cleared his throat, "Thank you for what you did last night. Azriel may be difficult but he's family. We'd be lost without him." He laid his large hand on your shoulder in thanks, it was light a weighted blanket, comforting in a way you'd never found in anyone else. "And," he began, sighing, "Rhys told me about the bond. How are you feeling?"

Dropping your shoulders, you shook your head slightly and looked toward the ceiling, worried that Azriel was going to hear what you had to say before finding Cassian's gaze. "I'll tell you what I told Rhys, and Azriel. I don't think I'm the kind of woman he wants. I've heard the rumours, I've seen the kind of women he takes home every night and I couldn't be more different to them. I'll give him a chance once he's better, but that's all I can do right now."

"I understand," Cassian smiled sadly, removing his hand from your shoulder and glancing down at the bag loosely held in your fingers. "Isn't today supposed to be your day off?"

Rolling your eyes, you lightly swatted his chest as you passed by, "Stop analysing my schedule, Cass. I never have days off anyway."

"How else am I meant to know when to come to see you?" Cassian called after you, unmoving from his place at the bottom of the stairs.

"You don't need an appointment to come and see me," you waved him away without turning around, pacing into the lounge and instantly feeling your confused mood lift when you saw Nyx wobblily walking about the room.

The small child, under the watchful eye of Feyre, instantly moved to you, babbling and reaching upward, and you swept him into your arms and felt your soul blossom when he rested his head on your chest. "He loves you," you craned your head to the side at the sound of Feyre's voice, a pencil was lazily held between her fingers and the sketchbook resting in her lap was kissed with the first swirls of grey, "Nyx that is, though I'm sure that Azriel does too," she spoke, setting her things down on the centre table.

"Well I only care about Nyx right now."

You were sure that Azriel could feel your joy and love for the child flowing down the bond, you seemed to be able to feel everything the other felt. His hope, pain, and blissful desires, and your exhaustion and innocent joys.

"I just want you to know that Azriel is probably the best of us," she began, rising to her feet and smoothing down the wrinkles in her skirt, she approached you, eyes flitting between you and Nyx with a serene smile, "He is patient and kind, courageous and gentle, and he has so much love to give. I think the recent period in his life was caused by the belief that he wasn't worthy of it." Feyre ran her fingers through Nyx's short onyx hair, "You deserve to see the real Az, in the way that we see him."

"Thank you, Feyre."

The High Lady hummed softly, "Always," you gently passed Nyx over to her, allowing him to grab your finger in his tiny palm in an attempt to get your arms wrapped around him again. "Are you going into the city?"

"Yes. I have some supplies and orders to pick up, and I'm going to try to enjoy the little time I get to spend by myself."

"Well, have fun. We'll be seeing you later? Why don't you stay for dinner?"

"Oh, I wouldn't want to intrude-"

"You're not," the deep voice of Rhys reverberated from behind you, his chest brushed against your back as he passed, heading straight toward his mate and child and kissing them both lightly on the forehead before turning his attention to you fully. "You save us all on a daily basis. You're always welcome here."

"I appreciate that," you swayed back and forth on the balls of your feet, wanting the ground to swallow you whole, "I should get going. I'll see you both later."

It didn't take you long to gather the supplies and orders that you needed for the practice, and once you had dropped them back of Priscilla, who admitted that the day had gone slowly, you decided to take a walk around the city. You browsed the endless bookshops and headed to the markets to see what garments they were selling, settling on a flowing ivory skirt and shimmering pale blue dress.

The sun was setting by the time you were done, bags in hands full of new treats for yourself as well as a new toy for Nyx that you had seen and couldn't not buy.

Scents of honey cured meats and roasted vegetables drifted down the stone path that led to the River House, and you could faintly make out the silhouettes of Rhys and Cassian through the window. And, like she knew that you were stood there watching, Feyre opened the front door and smiled at you, beckoning you closer.

Feyre took all the bags from your hands bar one, the one that you needed to take to Nyx who was already on his feet and swaying over to you the moment you stepped through the door. You knelt on the ground to greet him, the paper bag settled on the floor beside you, "I got you something today," you teased, diving your hand into the bag and retrieving the small stuff bat you had spied at one of the many market stalls that afternoon.

Nyx beamed, taking it from you and babbling his thanks as he moved into your arms, looking up at you expectantly to pick him up, and you did so without question.

"You spoil him too much," Rhys moved to sit beside you on the couch, watching Nyx with a faint smile as he played with his new toy. "Azriel is walking around. Seems that whatever you did is working."

"I would say that it's because of his own determination but we both know that was all me," Rhys laughed at your words, especially at how you had modified your tone to be Nyx-friendly.

"That it was," a sultry voice drifted through the air, sending involuntary shivers down your spine. You glanced over you shoulder, spying Azriel in the doorway with his hands buried into his pockets, looking as perfect as he had that night at Rita's.

His hair was messy, like he had raked his fingers through it with frustration, his skin was golden, and it looked like he had gotten some kind of rest given the disappearing bags that lingered beneath his eyes. The shirt he wore was unbuttoned toward the top, allowing you to see his still intact bandages and the tattoos that swirled the area. His wings were poised and neatly tucked at his shoulders, like he wanted to appear as unthreatening as possible to you.

Azriel appeared shy and sheepish, eyes floating through the room, finding Cassian and Rhys before landing on you and Nyx. So that was what the joy down the bond was, it was Nyx, it was a child that made you feel so light and happy.

Recognising the tension between you both, Cassian took the opportunity to plop himself down on a nearby armchair, setting his feet upon the table where Feyre's art supplies still lay, and spoke, "So, you two are mates?"

Closing his eyes, Azriel wanted nothing more than to punch his brother through the ground and into the realms of hell. Instead, he inhaled deeply, "Yes, Cassian," he gritted through his tensed teeth, noticing that you had chosen to take your awkwardness and pour your attention into Nyx.

"Well? What are you going to do about it?"

Slowly realising what Cassian was doing by the cock of his brow and slight smirk, Azriel decided to play along, "I'd like to take y/n out. I'd like to get to know her and see if she would like to accept the bond."

Cassian turned to you, innocent mischief laced in his orbs, "Y/N. Would you like to go out with Azriel, get to know him and figure out if you'd like to accept the bond?"

Rolling your eyes at his antics and slicing a glare to Rhys who had slightly sunk into the cushions of the seat, you replied, "Yes. I would."

"Great," Cassian shot to his feet with a clap of his hands which made you jump slightly, "Tomorrow. Az will pick you up from the practice."

"Fantastic."

"Amazing."

You and Azriel both spoke in unison whilst Rhys' foot tapped against the floor, raking his fingers across your mind and slipping into your lowered walls. I'm sorry about him. He's always been a meddler unfortunately.

You don't say.

The first date was going well up until it wasn't.

Azriel had arrived at the practice at sundown, flowers in hand, looking more incredible than you could have ever thought he could. It was clear that had spent the entire evening planning your first night alone together, he had taken you to the restaurant along the Sidra and had spent most of the time asking you questions about your work, appearing genuinely interested in the journey you had taken to get you to where you were.

He was intelligent, and soft, and funny in his own dry way, and you were beginning to understand what Cassian and Feyre meant.

It was going perfectly until a woman approached the table, batting her eyelashes toward Azriel and looking to you like you were the biggest pile of nothing on the continent. She was beautiful, long brunette curls and feline honey eyes, and it didn't help like she had the body of a goddess, carved from the finest of marble. You didn't want to admit it, but she made you feel so inferior, so disposable.

Azriel was polite, his fingers drifting against yours the entire time she was at the table, trying to reassure you whilst she essentially asked when she could see him again. In the nicest way he could, Azriel told her that he wasn't interested and asked her to leave, and all that had earned you was a venomous glare and a scoff.

He apologised profusely, and you accepted it, you were willing to let it go. After all, you could understand why women would approach him. Azriel was gorgeous, perhaps the most gorgeous male in all of Prythian, and you couldn't blame anyone for approaching him. If you had that level of confidence then maybe you would have too.

The second time it had happened, it dampened your hopes that a life with Azriel could work.

The Shadowsinger had asked you to go on a walk with him to the markets, he had picked out jewels and other beautiful items that he was sure would look beautiful on you. You had insisted that you didn't need them, that you could but them yourself, but he wasn't having any of it.

It was all going well until another woman showed up, curling her painted fingers around his bicep and pressing her body up against his side. Azriel looked visibly uncomfortable, you'd give him that, and like the same women he sent away at dinner, he told her that he wasn't interested and to leave him alone. The woman all but snarled at you, and you knew that you were going to be the talk of the city, that you were going to be known as Azriel's newest flame.

Unfortunately, it just kept on getting worse.

The people of Velaris had begun coming into the practice faking injuries just so that they'd be able to speak to you and pull the situation between you and Azriel from your lips. It was tiring. Everyone had their pasts, you knew that and you were fine with Azriel's, but it didn't mean that you wanted it waved around in front of your face.

Every single fake patient that waltzed through the doors to your practice served as a constant reminder that you'd never be good enough for Azriel. But you had seen the good in him, you had seen how much he respected you, how his eyes lit up when you spoke about whatever it was that you were passionate about, and you felt his adoration flow down the bond whenever you would see Nyx. You knew that Azriel was smitten, but you also knew that he had no idea just how much everything was effecting you.

It had all come to a head the night he had suggested to make you dinner at his apartment, to minimise the risk of anyone approaching you, and you deduced that it must have been Feyre's idea. Not even the Inner Circle were free of the city gossip mill.

He had done his best to be as comfortable and romantic as possible, and you knew that he wasn't expecting anything to happen, he just wanted you to see how serious he was about you. Candles lined the ledges, and he had placed pillows at the coffee table before the large arched windows which allowed you to see the entire golden valley of Velaris.

It was beautiful. It was perfect.

Then, halfway through the dinner he had impressively made by himself, the door to his apartment opened, and before your eyes stood the same blonde bombshell he had taken home the night you had seen him for the first time. Your breath became lodged in your throat, and all you felt was disappointment and sadness at yet another date being ruined.

"Oh, I'm sorry to interrupt," she walked further into the room, eyes drifting about the candle-filled ledges with a smirk. "I was hoping that you'd be alone tonight," she was brazen enough to remove her coat, revealing little clothing beneath in an outfit that extenuated her curves and breasts.

Azriel's eyes were trained on you, but you couldn't look at him. You folded your hands into your lap and kept your eyes on the floor, trying your best to not cry in that moment, to not appear as weak. But he could feel it, he could feel the sadness and anger bubbling inside of you.

"Come on, Azriel," she purred, golden hair flowing over her shoulders, "Say goodbye to your latest conquest and come back to me. We both know that she clearly isn't what you want."

That was it.

Wordlessly you rose to your feet, hastily gathering your jacket and satchel in your arms before rounding her toward the door. "Don't take it personally, sweetie," she called after you condescendingly, "You just aren't what he needs."

You had never run anywhere, not because you didn't want to but because you enjoyed your slow meandering, you enjoyed watching the world go by slowly, but you sprinted home that night, ignoring his pleas down the bond and instead deciding to shut it off completely as you slammed the door shut to your bedroom.

A couple weeks passed by, weeks of silence which you channelled into your work, opting to take a research trip to the Autumn Court to sample their botanicals for a new balm you wanted to craft. The best part about leaving the city for awhile was that you could work undisturbed by Azriel and the Inner Circle.

Luckily for you, Eris, the new High Lord, was happy for you to experiment your skills and craft on his soldiers and injured townsfolk, knowing of your reputation and passion for healing. He had offered you a place in his court, doting on you often in a bid to get you to stay, but nothing would get you to leave the wonder that was Velaris, no matter how much you wanted to burrow yourself away and hide for eternity.

That morning, you were nestled at the edge of a brook that was passing through the forest just east of Fir Manor, drawing flowers and examining their properties when you heard the leaves crunch from behind you. From the scent, you knew that it was Eris coming to check on you again. He looked good, he adorned a pair of sage green briefs and a cream blouse, and you couldn't forget the brown leather riding boots you loved so much to the point he had gone out and bought you your own pair.

"This is the third time you've stopped by this morning alone," you spoke, not lifting your gaze from your notebook that was littered with colourful sketches and text.

Eris fell to your side, finding a comfortable place on the blanket you often carried around with you so that your body didn't break against the rocks. "I've been invited to the Night Court to see Lucien. I think that they're hoping that you'll join me."

The pencil in your hand froze against the parchment, and you straightened your posture to look at him, at the amber eyes and fire-red hair that he had recently had cut. Eris had been kind to you, understanding the need to escape for awhile, he had immersed you in his culture, had given you many dresses to fit the season, and not once did you see a droplet of hatred within him.

You were aware that the time was approaching to go back, that you couldn't leave Priscilla on her own for much longer even if Madja was back from her holidays and taking the brunt of the patients in the city. Though, you wished you could have a little longer to enjoy the serenity and joy of your work without everything else weighing down on you.

Looking to him, you smiled thinly, tapping the end of your pencil against the parchment of the notebook, "I suppose it's time that I went back anyway. I'm surprised that the practice hasn't burned to the ground yet."

Eris chuckled, his shoulder brushing against your own, "If things are still tense when we're there, you're always welcome to come back with me."

"Thank you, Eris. I really appreciate everything you've done for me."

"Of course," he smirked, "Anything for Prythian's best healer."

The High Lord jumped to his feet, wiping away any small rocks and pebbles of dirt from his briefs before offering a hand to you and helping you up off of the ground. "Always an ulterior motive with you," you lightly scolded him, looping the strap of your satchel over your shoulder whilst he folded the blanket over his arm.

"Can you blame me for wanting you all to myself?" Eris nudged into you, falling in step with you back toward Fir Manor. Once inside the safety of the walls, Eris asked you to pack your things, including the items he had gifted to you, and winnowed you both to the boarder of the Night Court where Rhys was already waiting.

Eris had never seen anyone so desperate to leave his side in years, he watched intently as you babbled some nonsense about needing to get back to the practice, muttering a soft goodbye before disappearing.

"Are you trying to piss Azriel off?" Rhys asked, eyes following your figure through the woodland until he couldn't see you anymore. You reeked of Eris, of Autumn, and wore a dress of burnt orange and riding boots that matched Eris' own. "You know that they're mates."

"For now," Eris quipped with a smirk, causing Rhys to look toward his new ally with confusion, "Can you blame her for questioning it? Considering every time they've been together it's been ruined by one of his one-night whores?"

Rhys was all too aware of what had happened thanks to Nesta who had heard from Cassian, she was too worried about Azriel to not divulge what she knew even though she couldn't stand to be around Rhys. Plus, Nesta liked you, from what little she had seen, she believed that you were a gift from the mother to them all.

"I can't say that I do," he admitted, frowning at the place where you had been stood, eager to get away from him.

It must have been hard, to find out that you had a mate, to give him a chance for it all to be ruined by his past conquests sticking their noses in where they weren't wanted. Then there was the matter of the gossip, of people truly believing you had slipped him some kind of love tonic to get him to want you. It had infuriated Rhys when he had found out, so much so that he had visited those spreading such vile accusations and ordered them to stop or otherwise be banished from the City of Starlight.

Rhys wanted to protect you, he wanted you to be happy even if it wasn't with Azriel.

But not with Eris. Never with Eris.

Unwillingly, Rhys escorted Eris to the House of Wind to be with his brother and new sister-in-law, and returned home to Feyre as fast as he possibly could.

It didn't take you long to catch up with an extremely thankful and tired Priscilla, her blue eyes were brimming with exhaustion and stress, her lips were cracked and her skin was dry. You apologised to her profusely, and thanked her for keeping the practice going whilst you took some much needed time away from the city.

Perhaps Alana was right, maybe Azriel would be the ruin of you.

Priscilla told you that she understood, but that she was happy that you were back. So, you gave her the rest of the week off, feeling alive and ready to dive back into the occupation you adored so much. It turned out to be a quiet day, shipping off some balms and ointments for some follow up patients, some minor cuts from training scuffled that were quickly treated and males sent on their way, and before you knew it the sun had began to set.

The chiming of the bell at the entryway signalled that someone had entered the practice past opening hours. Wiping your hands on your tatty apron, you headed into the waiting foyer, not paying much mind to anything until the scent of cedar and mountains kissed your lungs.

Azriel stood before you, eyes wild and appearing somewhat dishevelled, black bags beneath his eyes from lack of sleep and a certain worried paleness clinging to his skin. His shadows sensed you immediately, shooting from his shoulders and dancing around your waist.

In your haste to work you had forgotten to take a shower or change out of the clothes Eris had gifted you, and you saw that Azriel had noticed the style and scent that surrounded you. But, he swallowed harshly and rasped, "You look beautiful."

His tired words threatened to cleave your heart into a million pieces, "Thank you."

Silence hung between you, heavy and tense, and you weren't sure what to say. Should you apologise for the clothing and the scent of Eris that lingered around you? Should you apologise for disappearing without a trace with no way for him to contact you?

Azriel looked lost, like he hadn't slept since the night you left his apartment in such a hurry, but the words of that woman still lingered in your mind. Conquest. Not what he needs. It dawned on you that he may not have known just how deeply it had effected you, how inexperienced you had realised you were, how insecure these women had caused you to feel.

"I'm sorry, for that night at my apartment. I didn't invite her, I don't know why she even showed up," he took a step toward you and you didn't move, not knowing what it was that you wanted in that moment, "I should have gone after you. I should have stopped you from leaving but you silenced the bond and I thought I was the last person you wanted to see. I was wrong."

"Azriel, I-"

"Please," he took another step toward you, and kept on moving until his fingers caressed beneath your chin and pulled your gaze up to meet his eyes. "I didn't think that I deserved to be loved, not after what I've done. I thought that the mother had taken one look at me decided that I wasn't worth it. So, yes, I slept around, I wanted to do all I could to forget the fact that I was destined to be alone forever even though having a mate, having you, was all that I've ever wanted."

"You are magnificent, y/n. Truly. No woman even holds a candle to you. You are intelligent and passionate, you are beautiful and peaceful in ways that I never thought I'd be able to witness or feel. I stopped wanting to look back, I stopped wanting to say goodbye to the people I love, and then I met you and I knew I'd found the one I wanted to look back to every night and look forward to every morning."

"You are not a conquest to me. I was ready to accept the bond the moment you entered the room that night when I was lying there dying. You are my everything, you are my reason to live and breathe, you are my salvation. I don't want to live my life without you, not after I've gotten to see you in a way I know that no one else has. Please, y/n. Please come back to me."

You could feel the tears pooling atop your bottom lids, his touch was feverish but unrelenting, his hands cupped your face and his eyes searched your soul for a hint of acceptance.

"Azriel, I don't think that I can," your bottom lip wobbled, and the pain of your insecurity bloomed devilishly inside of your chest. "Your past doesn't bother me, and I never want you to think that it does. Every moment I've spent with you has left me wanting you more and more every day. But I'm not like them, I'm inexperienced in intimacy and dedicated to my work, and I can't allow myself to tarnish everything I have accomplished. I can't allow myself to feel small and insignificant anymore."

"You're not small or insignificant, y/n," his brow furrowed and he felt you slipping away, he didn't need the open bond to understand how much pain you were in, not when he could see it all etched upon your face. "You're everything that I've ever dreamed of. Please."

The moment you stepped away from his embrace, Azriel visibly winced, like he had been shot with a nightshade arrow through the heart. "I need time to think, Az. I need space to figure out if I can do this. Be yours but also be mine."

He didn't want to pester you, he didn't want to beg and make you feel like you owed him anything, but gods, did he want to crawl onto his knees and kiss the ground that you walked on. To Azriel, you were the sun, you were the moon, you were the seasons. You were everything.

Azriel swallowed his words, his pleads, and gently nodded his head, stepping forward and placing a chaste kiss on your cheek before retreating from the practice, carefully clicking the door behind his exit.

It took you a few minutes to be able to gather yourself, to be able to move from that spot, but you did, if not for yourself then for Alana and Eris that were making it their mission to take you to Rita's for a few drinks, to allow you to let off a little bit of steam.

In the next hour, you were bathed and donned in a tight metallic bronze dress with a high slit that reached your hip, a plunging neckline and hair waved down your spine. Eris was always barking at you to live in the moment, and for once you were inclined to agree. So when he and Alana saw the light spill from your opened door, did they turn around and gasp at the woman who stood before them.

"I didn't know that you could clean up this well," Eris mused, earning a light slap on the shoulder as you moved from the practice to join him and Alana on the walk up to Rita's.

"I told you that I could look good when I wanted to."

Alana hummed knowingly, "And this has nothing to do with the fact that you told Azriel you needed space?"

"Maybe a little bit."

Eris laughed, bold and proud, "Showing the Shadowsinger what he's missing. I didn't know that you had it in you."

Rolling your eyes, you noticed Rita's in the distance, and the queues of fae waiting to be allowed in, "This is actually for me. I'm tired of feeling inadequate and looked over. Tonight everyone gets to see that I'm not something to be ignored."

After a short walk up the paved hill, the two fae guards on the doors quickly ushered you inside, and the scent of alcohol and the thick wall of sweat instantly crashed into you. Alana excused herself to go and get drinks for you all whilst Eris led you over to the booth where Lucien and Elain sat, across the room from the others but in their direct eyeline.

Whispers sprouted around you, causing your shoulders to tense up. The healer that had been meddling with the Shadowsinger was now latched to the hip of the High Lord of Autumn.

What a cunning little thing.

So much ambition.

You did your best to ignore them as you walked behind Eris toward his brother and Elain, smiling sweetly at the pair as they rose to greet you, hugging you tightly and telling you how nice it was to be able to finally meet you. Elain was charming and kind, and Lucien was warm and welcoming, and they took you under their wings effortlessly, blocking out the demeaning whispers from the fae surrounding and watching you.

After a few more drinks and shots, thanks to Alana, you found yourself leaning into Eris' side, hazed by the heat and slightly tipsy. You laughed with Elain and shared your love of flowers with her, and you spent time with Lucien telling him how beautiful you found his home court, speaking of the markets and the food in detail. "Sorry brother, but I'd like to steal y/n for a dance."

Eris was stood at your side, looking down at you expectantly with his hand offered out to you. Part of you should have known better, you should have known that Azriel was watching you from across the room, watching as the love of his life was swept away by another Vanserra.

Nudging you to your feet, you sent Lucien a wry smile as you took Eris' hand and allowed him to lead you to the centre of the dancefloor. He pulled you close to his chest and swayed with you to the beat of the music that flowed through the room.

"Does Azriel even know what he's missing?" Eris spoke lowly into your ear, lowering his mouth to the shell of it so that you could hear his voice in your soul. "If I were him, I'd crawl across the fires of hell to have you."

Eris was being brazen. He raised his fingers to your face, the tips of them flitting across your cheek to a strand of hair that had fallen down the side of your face, pushing it back eloquently behind your pointed ear. His fingers lingered, sparks of fire nipping at the skin of your neck as his fingers travelled downward.

You weren't sure what to expect, but you couldn't exactly blame the fist that had flown into Eris' jaw, sending the High Lord crashing to the floor. Azriel stood over him, the crowd had parted to watch the spectacle vying for your attention. Your eyes had blown wide, and it took you a moment to come back into the room. Azriel turned from Eris and stalked over to you, wrapping his arm around your waist and resting his chin on the crown of your head as he made the world dissipate in swirls of colour until you were stood in the centre of his apartment.

Azriel towered over you, eyes wild and possessive. You hadn't seen him look to territorial before, but the look in his eyes had you in a chokehold. "My past with females isn't what bothers you. It's having it in your face constantly, it's the whispers and cruelty that bothers you. I understand that now, and I'm sorry that I didn't see that before." Azriel's voice was calm, too calm, like a predator prepping their prey, luring them into wings of security.

His marred fingers traced where Eris' had once been and his eyes flickered with fury, "But Eris does not get to touch you like that. You are mine, y/n. I refuse to let you go."

"You are not what they say you are," he took a step toward you, the force of his knees against your thighs ushering you backward, "They are jealous of you, of us, because they'll never get to know what this is like. They'll never get to know the taste of your skin or the way your name sounds on my lips. They'll never get to know the love I have for you," his hand gripped your waist, and Azriel continued to walk you backward until the backs of your legs hit the ledge of his couch.

"Because I do love you, y/n. With everything I have, I love you. I knew it from the moment I saw you, I knew that I was going to fall in love with you. Nothing could ever take me from you," his lips brushed over your collarbone, igniting a fire within you that you had never felt before, "I am yours forever. And I promise you, I vow that no one will ever make you feel insignificant ever again. Not unless they want to die by my hand. I would rip the world apart to ensure your happiness."

Azriel's words struck a chord inside of you, and you couldn't help but allow the bond to open, to allow his flood of emotions to crash into you like waves against the Summer Court rocks.

"Azriel," you spoke his name breathlessly, too focused on the sensation of his lips peppering soft kisses along your collarbone and neck. "Please."

He pulled away from you, placing his hands on either side of your neck and stroking his thumbs against your ears, "Tell me."

You had known for a long time, since the moment he had turned up at the steps of your practice holding flowers with a love-sick smile plastered on his lips. "I love you too," and you felt the bond sing at your admission, so brilliant and bright that your heart felt like it was going to lurch from its cage. "Please, Az. I need you."

Azriel lowered his lips to yours, hovering a feathers touch from your own, his breath scented with the faint aroma of whisky fanning over your face. With your slight nod, Azriel closed that gap and felt the bond fall into place, thrumming and secure, on the cusp of being fulfilled.

Your mouths moved in sync against one another, and Azriel effortless scooped you into his arms and carried you over to his bed, setting you down as gently as he could before climbing on top of you. His hands roamed your body, the curves of your hips and the mounds of your breasts, his fingers traced circled into the skin of your exposed thigh, teasing the sensitive area and smirking against your lips as you writhed beneath him under his touch.

His lips moved to your neck, sucking and nipping the skin there between his teeth, allowing you to begin unbuttoning his shirt to expose his toned chest. Azriel pulled away slightly when your fingers began drifted over the areas where his wounds once were, the wounds you had saved him from. "They're gone," you told him quietly, lips swollen but smiling under the dim light.

Azriel brushed your hair behind your ears and brushed his nose against yours, dragging the tip down the slope of it, "I told you that you were my salvation. I wasn't lying."

"I'm starting to believe that."

His eyes sparked with mischief and he sent a wave of love down the bond as he kissed your lips once more, "Let me show you."

And so he did.

Author's Note

SORRY THAT THIS TOOK SO LONG 😭

Really hoping that this has done the amazing ask some justice 🥺

Also I was so close to writing smut for this fic - looks like I'll need to do a part two or something...

Taglist

@mokansa @killseinx @lady-targaryens-world @brieftriumphnightmare @thesunloveschips @whyonearthisyourusernamethi-blog

[pigfacedbitch]

Phobia

idea : your phobia relates to your boyfriend's gifted godly abilities.

word count : 0.8k

type : headcanons

pairing/s involved : Jason Grace / Percy Jackson / Leo Valdez / Frank Zhang / Nico Di Angelo x Reader

warning/s : phobia speaks for itself. personally, it's thalassophobia for me. 😓

here is my masterlist!

Jason Grace | Acrophobia (Fear of Heights)

Due to having the same fear as his sister, Jason is completely aware of the dos and dont's when you're an acrophobic.

If you two are forced in situations where you need to be in high places, he always attempts to distract you with anything he can think of.

He prefers embarrassing stories over jokes. His delivery is too deadass and his 'i'm-trying-hard-here-it's-not-funny' look makes you laugh before the punchline.

Knowing that it can be associated with the fear of falling, Jason will reassure you every time that he's going to catch you.

If you did fall, during some battle for example, he will asks you to close your eyes and hold you tighter before slowly bringing you down.

He really lives up to that Superman nickname so much, the others started calling you Lois Lane.

Percy Jackson | Thalassophobia (Fear of Deep Bodies of Water)

Percy would be bummed out. Being the son of Poseidon, he loves to be in the water.

Everything about him— from his favorite hobbies to his happiest of memories, revolves around it and he wants to share that with you.

He plans on taking you on trips underwater; introduce you to the majestic marine creatures nobody else has seen before, unravel mysteries the sea has to offer, and form a big bubble where you can do whatever you want without being interrupted (ehem👀).

But how can he make all of it possible when your fear is literally all of those?

Percy would want to help you get over it. He wouldn't force you but he will at least try convince you.

If you refuse, he will respect that.

But if you accept his help, he'll try to take it one step at a time. Probably by starting to show you how the sea, no matter terrifying it is, is also beautiful place.

Leo Valdez | Pyrophobia (Fear of Fire)

Initially, Leo will laugh. I mean, who wouldn't?

You're a pyrophobic yet you're dating someone who is actually made out of fire?

After he notices that you're not joking, he will begin to be terrified for you. Expect that Leo will be extra careful when you are with him, especially when he is working on something.

His contraptions deemed too dangerous like explosives, will be kept somewhere far away.

As much as he thinks your presence will make Bunker 9 a lovelier workspace, he will understand if you don't want to go there. The essense of it is from the god of fire himself— I mean you need a blast of fire to enter.

He also will refrain himself from using his fire abilities in a fight, making do with his inventions instead.

While pyrophobia doesn't have specific causes, it may be possible that you had some traumatic experience relating to fire. Leo doesn't want to hurt you or make you feel worse.

Frank Zhang | Zoophobia (Fear of Animals)

Frank is confused. He doesn't know that the fear of animals is a thing and would wonder why you agreed on dating him in the first place.

He will ask you tons of questions; what caused your phobia? Are you afraid of all animals, a few, or just one? What can I do? After your conversation, he's going to search more information.

If you're afraid of one animal only, Frank will forget it ever existed. He will never talk of that animal again even when you're not around.

The others will joke about it. Example, if you're scared of snakes—

"What is a snake, Frank?"

"What's that, Leo? I have no idea, so let's never speak of it again."

In the case that you're afraid of all animals (this is a rare condition), he will not use his abilities and will train harder in combat.

When he really doesn't have a choice but to shapeshift in a fight, you two will separate with your friends' assurance that they got your back.

Frank is a nice guy but if someone made an offensive comment about your phobia or hardcore pranks involving that animal? Expect the wrath and rage of Mars.

Nico Di Angelo | Phasmophobia (Fear of Ghosts)

I'm sorry but Nico will slightly judge you. Really, a ghost? What are you, five?

Like Frank, he will ask you what caused your phobia.

He will feel terrible and comfort you if you have the same experience as Reina and Jason, who's loved ones turned into a mania. If it's because of horror movies, he will awkwardly pet your head.

You may think the subject is dropped but Nico will make sure that no ghost will ever come near you.

Having the infamous title 'Ghost King', he will not hesitate to torment and threaten the spirits who try to approach, scare, or talk to you.

He will take you on dates to McDonalds but he will not bring you to any 'ghost business'.

If you want to get rid of your phobia, Nico will summon ghosts who can entertain you; like singers, dancers, those that can do tricks, and stand up comedians.

He will also show you how easily he can bend any ghost to his will, proving to you that there's nothing to be afraid of.

[evangelical04]

A Single Daffodil || 5

Summary: Getting arranged to be married to your long-time crush wasn't exactly the fairy tale romance you were hoping for. Nor is the dynamic of the marriage, with your husband treating you like you don't exist. But you're going to make this work, whether he cares about you or not. And he definitely doesn't...right?

Pairing: Min Yoongi x Reader

Rating: 18+ minors DNI

Genre: angst, romance, unrequited love, smut, enemies to lovers, arranged marriage au, businessman yoongi

Warnings: parental trauma, sibling trauma, toxic parents, unrequited love, explicit language, alcohol usage, yoongi's kind of mean, slight smut in this chapter but not really

Author's Note: hi everyone! sorry it took so long to get this out, but I literally (finally) got my car back yesterday and wrote almost this entire thing today lol. thank you guys so much for being so patient with me, I really appreciate it. I'm hoping to get the next part out super soon but I hope this is good for you guys for now!! as always, please let me know what you guys think, I love to hear your feedback

TAGLIST CLOSED

@yoongisducky @kam9404 @sumzysworld @tarahardcore @viankiss @babystarcandylovejk @ktownshizzle @futuristicenemychaos @igot7fairlyoddparents @baechugff @pb89nv @peachytokki @ratherbfangirling @themwordsblog @daises-and-dandelionpuffs @kimmalik @honeyypages @captainchrisstan @khaimahfe @yoongibaybee @kooklovee @whoa-jo @familiarlikemymirror3 @blueberriesm @llallaaa @weareatthebadlands @purpleheartsandarock1 @lillmeomeowsblog @this-most-assuredly-counts @kayleefriedchicken @ur-grandmum @praetae @sylviamuela @notarshia @minghaosimp @wobblewobble822 @ilikekpop-c @maynina @rinkud @jesshujk @kimsaerom @suker4angst @mar-627 @maynina @pitchblack0309

previous / masterlist / next

The night had given your frustration towards Yoongi some time to deflate, but you still felt it bubbling deep inside your consciousness. You weren’t one to hold a grudge necessarily, not outright at least, but you would never forget either. Joohee said that made you even more dangerous, but you liked to think it made you amicable. The next morning brought you to a lazy Sunday where you had initially wanted to bum around in your bed but the small items scattered around your floor reminded you of the tasks you had yet to finish. 

Your morning was spent tinkering with your console and Blu-Ray player to get them to connect properly with your TV and the wifi, and while you struggled, you refused to ask Yoongi for help. It was a bad habit of yours, avoiding those you were mad at or were mad at you. It certainly hadn’t worked with your mother, but then again, she’d barely been home to avoid in the first place. 

Thoughts of Yoongi swirled around in your head as you finished cleaning up your room and organizing everything. His behavior last night still stumped you. Logically, the only explanation was that he was jealous. Whether it was of Namjoon or you, you weren’t sure. You were too scared to entertain the thought that he might be jealous of Namjoon, the way your heart sped up was dangerous. Even if it was the correct explanation, could you even allow yourself to hope like that?

You fell backward onto your bed in a huff, it was safer to think he was just angry at you and Namjoon for getting close because it was “mixing personal lives”. Any other reasoning was going to send you down a spiral of confusion, want, and optimism. Just as you resigned yourself to a well-deserved midday nap, your phone buzzed on the bedside table next to you. Groaning out, you reached around for your phone, eventually finding it and seeing Hoseok’s contact blaring on the screen. 

You swiped to answer the call, throwing the phone down next to you on speaker, “What?”

“Geez, don’t you sound grumpy.”

“It’s because I am.”

“Well, okay then, live your life, I guess. Anyway, guess what happened,” Hoseok responded excitedly.

“What?”

“The guy my old boss recommended said yes! We’re gonna start looking at studio spaces together, I’m opening up a dance school!”

You sat up, taking the phone off speaker and bringing it to your ear, “Hobi, that’s great! I can’t believe that, I’m so excited for you!”

“I can’t believe this is finally happening! It feels like this has been in the making since college,” Hoseok exclaimed, you could hear him pacing around in his room through the phone. 

“You deserve it so much, Hobi, I’m so happy for you,” you smiled, and you did mean it. You knew how hard Hoseok had worked through college, surviving on a scholarship and battling down criticisms for choosing a dance major. There wasn’t a doubt in your mind that he would succeed and you were happy to watch him do just that. 

“Do you want to meet him? We’re having dinner together tomorrow and I wanted you and Joohee to be there.”

“Of course I will, I’ll need to see you guys to prep for going back to work next week anyway. Just text me the details and I’ll be there,” you responded, picking at the seams of your comforter at the mention of you resuming your job. 

“Will do,” Hoseok responded excitedly and hung up after a quick goodbye. 

It wasn’t that you didn’t like your work, far from it in fact, but it was the questions that would inevitably come with your return that you dreaded. The glittering ring on your finger would fuel the rumor mill and lead to empty celebrations and congratulations, not to mention questions surrounding your mysterious husband. 

Song Ha would probably be the only one not asking much about the wedding, but only because she attended. You hadn’t been able to talk with her during the reception, too overwhelmed and swept up in the flurry of high-profile guests. You certainly felt guilty for not having been able to see her but you knew she would understand, she was sweet that way. 

No, Song Ha was dangerous in the fact that she had seen Yoongi, and she would be ready with a list of questions to ask you when you stepped into the office the following week. Once Song Ha started the questions about Yoongi, the others would only join in, adding to the pressure you felt to appear like a normal, happy bride. 

Abruptly, you stood up. Now wasn’t the time for sulking and self-pity. Determined, you stomped towards the door, ready to fling it open and face Yoongi with your head held high. But as you reached the handle, your fingers curling around the edge, ready to rip it open, you hesitated. 

Facing Yoongi sounded even more draining right now, the idea of his upturned frown staring down at you was less than appealing. His hot and cold attitude was taxing and you were tired of trying to understand his actions. 

Coming up with explanations for his bizarre attitude and trying to make sense of his lingering gazes was less than appealing to your exhausted mind. But, you reminded yourself, this was technically your space too and you couldn’t just stay in your room the whole time. Besides, you wanted a snack and why should Yoongi stop you? 

Shaking your head, you steeled your resolve and opened your door. You couldn’t hear anything coming from the living room or kitchen so you continued your venture down the stairs. Yoongi was nowhere in sight and you silently celebrated, at least you wouldn’t have to worry about him right now. 

You reached the kitchen, rifling around for some chips before settling on a small packet you found tucked away in the cupboard. As you began making your way back to your room to enjoy your snack, the front door opened and Yoongi entered, running a hand through messy black hair.

“Oh, Y/N, you’re awake,” he said, stopping at the couch once he saw you. 

You nodded curtly, “Yes, good afternoon.” You had been so close to going without dealing with him but it seemed like the universe had different plans in mind for you. It felt a little mean to be so blunt with him but seeing his stupid, perfectly shaped face ignited the remaining rage you had left in you from the previous night. Even though it was a new day, all you could think about was how he’d treated you like some child that needed to be looked after. It made your fist clench around the chips bag, the crinkling noise sounding much louder in the quiet living room. 

When you continued your trek toward the stairs, Yoongi called out for you. 

“Y/N,” he said, slightly louder than his normal volume, “Can we talk for a second, please?”

You turned to face him, silently waiting for him to continue. What could he possibly have to say?

“I’m sorry about last night,” he started, surprising you, “I was thinking about it when we got home and the way I’ve been acting has been unacceptable and I’m sorry that I treated you unfairly.”

You felt your eyes widen at his apology and you stuttered a response, “O-oh, it’s fine, really.” A habit of yours, to dismiss any apology that comes your way, to pretend like you were unbothered.

Yoongi shook his head, “It’s not. I was getting confused and treating this,” he gestured between you, “Like something it’s not, I’m sure that was annoying at the least for you. I’ll be sure to maintain a proper distance from hereon out, I don’t want to meddle in your life.”

You blinked back, confused by his statement, “What do you mean?”

“I mean that I was acting like a husband when we’d agreed to keep ourselves separate from each other. I had no right to get upset with you or to treat you like a kid, and I’m sorry.”

“Um, okay,” you stammered, “I’m just going to go up then.”

Yoongi nodded, turning away and walking into his office. You walked up the stairs in an almost trance-like state, you had no idea what to make of that conversation. 

You should be happy that he apologized but why did it seem like the outcome wasn’t what you wanted? He said he’d maintain some distance between you two from now on, that isn’t what you wanted. Or wasn’t it? 

Throwing the bag of chips on your bedside table, you collapsed onto your duvet, you didn’t know what you wanted! You knew you wanted Yoongi to apologize but you didn’t want him to push you further away. You wanted him to explain why he got upset, if you were reading into things too much, if he was starting to feel something for you. You wanted him to be clear, and that conversation was anything but. 

I was getting confused and treating this like something it’s not.

What did that mean? What did he mean he was getting confused? You were supposed to be the confused one. 

Chips now long forgotten, you flipped over in your bed and reached for your phone, opting to occupy your brain with mindless scrolling rather than try to make sense of Yoongi’s words. 

Despite how much you tried to distract yourself, the conversation with Yoongi still swirled around in your mind like a rampant tornado, hitting the corners of your brain and disrupting your every thought. You hadn’t managed to figure anything else out, you’d only been able to work yourself into a frenzy and feel even more confused. 

Glancing at your watch, you noted that only a few hours had passed and it was around time for dinner, but you didn’t want to risk seeing Yoongi and spiraling once more, not that you had clawed your away out of your current spiral either.

Instead, you opted to skip dinner for tonight, not feeling particularly hungry anyway, and tried to pass the time until you felt drowsiness kick in. Your method of choice was just playing a relaxing game in your bed until your eyelids felt heavy and you drifted off in a rather uncomfortable position for your neck. You didn’t even notice yourself falling asleep, much less find the energy to fix your position to avoid a sore neck. 

That night you dreamt of yourself in a dark room with no visible walls and it almost felt cold but the sensation didn’t seem like it was coming from your surroundings, it felt like it was underneath your skin. 

You looked around frantically, for anything, and your eyes caught on a sliver of shiny black hair with slightly pale skin underneath. The figure reached out a hand for you and you tried to run toward it but found yourself unable to move. No matter how hard you pushed your legs, flailed, and grasped for the outstretched hand, it felt like there was an invisible wall preventing you from moving forward. In your struggle, you failed to notice the hand slowly retract and only realized once the figure started to move further and further away. You felt yourself shout after it but no sound escaped your throat.

Finally, you managed to break free from the invisible barrier and began running after the figure. Your limbs felt like lead and your lungs were struggling to take in air, but you persisted, chasing after the retreating figure and uselessly shouting for it to stop. Once it seemed like you were finally closing in on it, the ground beneath you disappeared and you fell into the dark chasm below, seeing the figure watching from the edge. 

It did not try to reach out a hand to grab you. 

The next morning had you feeling more grateful than ever that you still had another week off from work, although it was your last. You had awoken feeling drained and anxious, unable to remember your dream from the night prior. The only thing you did recall was falling, only because it made you wake with a start in bed at around three in the morning. You were tucked in nicely into your duvet then but it had become messy once your alarm went off later. You had set your alarm for later in the day than you usually did for work since you hadn’t wanted to get up early but also not sleep in too late. 

The clatter of pots and pans from the kitchen indicated Mrs. Lim’s presence and you sleepily got dressed and walked downstairs to greet her and get some tea. She neglected to comment on your haphazard appearance and instead presented you with an already-brewed cup of tea. Smiling gratefully at her, you took a seat at the counter and made quiet conversation. 

“Would you like anything in particular for dinner tonight,” Mrs. Lim asked.

“No, thank you, I’ll be meeting some friends for dinner.”

“Oh, how lovely. You should really invite them here, Mr. Min wouldn’t mind,” Mrs. Lim added cheerfully.

You held back a scoff, “Yes, well, I guess I’m still getting comfortable.”

Mrs. Lim smiled kindly, “Of course, dear, I’m sure all of this is difficult to get used to.”

You weren’t sure if she was just talking about Yoongi’s apartment, but you nodded in agreement nonetheless. 

“Oh, Mrs. Lim, could you actually prepare some samgyeopsal for dinner tonight? I think Yoongi is in desperate need of it,” you mentioned, recalling how tired he’d looked last night. 

Mrs. Lim only smiled knowingly, nodding gently before resuming her tasks. 

Your phone buzzed on the countertop, drawing your attention. 

To: Milf Club (est. 2014)

Joo-nie:

what’s the dress code for the restaurant tonight

do i have to break out my razor

Hoebi:

Uhhh the restaurant is kinda fancy so maybe?

Idrk tbh this dude said the place was good but it looked fancy lmao

You:

i’ll wear a dress joo, so you can too

Joo-nie:

ty queen

wear the little black one makes you look hot

Hoebi:

What should I wear to look hot

Joo-nie:

don’t show up

Hoebi:

Owie

You:

i’ll send a pic later when i get dressed

BUT it’s still minimal makeup 

you guys are gonna have to see my massive eyebags

Hoebi:

They’re your most charming quality <3

You:

damn that’s a low bar

Hoebi:

See you guys tonight!! Be there at 6, don’t be late!

That was aimed at you, Joo

Joo-nie:

rude

You smiled fondly at your friends’ messages before setting your phone down and turning your attention back to Mrs. Lim, asking how her weekend went. 

The rest of the day passed fairly quickly and Mrs. Lim soon went home after her responsibilities were completed. She had ended up shooing you out of her sight after you’d insisted on helping her out with the cleaning, citing boredom as the reason, but she was having none of it. You’d spent the rest of the afternoon lazing in your bed and feeling unproductive. 

It was difficult to relax properly while not working because you felt as though you should be doing something else, but you didn’t have anything to do. Part of you was excited to get back to work to occupy yourself but another part of you was concerned over how easily you fell into a depressive mood. It was just another reason to start looking into therapy. 

With nothing to entertain your mind with, your thoughts continuously shifted to Yoongi. You hadn’t seen him since that odd conversation where he promised to keep more distance between you, leaving you confused and lost. You still were. 

He felt impossible to read. Every time you thought you were about to figure it out, he threw a curveball at you and made you stumble on your path to a logical conclusion. The more you thought about his actions leading up to and at the gala, the more they seemed to point to jealousy. The problem was, you couldn’t figure out a plausible reason he would have to be jealous. Obviously, the overarching reason would be that he has feelings for you, but he didn’t have a reason to. The man hadn’t tried to get to know you at all, you’d barely had five conversations since the wedding. How could he possibly have feelings for you?

And Yoongi didn’t seem like the type to show possessiveness over someone he had shallow feelings for, nor did Yoongi seem like the type to develop shallow feelings. In your mind, he oscillated between someone who didn’t like commitment in any form to someone who wholly devoted himself to getting to know someone before developing feelings for them. However, it was impossible for you to come to a conclusion. Just like in your own reasoning for Yoongi’s feelings, you barely knew him and there was no way for you to make these judgments. 

What you would give to understand what’s going through his mind. 

By the time your alarm went off at five, you were still lost in your thoughts, mindlessly playing a farming sim, mainly because your wife in there was much easier to understand than Yoongi. The alarm startled you out of your stupor and jolted you into action, scrambling things together to get ready for Hoseok’s dinner. You had showered in the morning so your hair would be dry by the time the dinner came, and you were happy you’d had the forethought. 

Rifling through your closet, you pulled out the black dress that Joohee had mentioned, a form-fitting cocktail dress you’d picked up on a shopping trip with her. The square neckline complimented your decolletage and the fabric seemed to hug your curves just right, only slightly puckering around your hips. Your hair didn’t need much styling, opting to leave it natural, and your makeup was minimal, not feeling the energy to put in more effort. 

You made your finishing touches, surveying your appearance in your mirror, and were satisfied. A glance at your watch told you that you were right on time, but that you didn’t have a minute to lose, so you hastened your pace to the door to head downstairs. Before you made it past your bedroom door, your eyes caught on your wedding ring, sitting on your vanity. You bit the inside of your cheek, considering whether you should put it on. 

Whatever, you fumed internally, snatching it and sliding it onto your finger. It’s not like it mattered anyway but you’d grown to enjoy the feeling of the cool metal against your skin and fiddling with it when nervous.

You were somewhat surprised to see Yoongi sitting on the couch enjoying a glass of whiskey, not having expected him back from work this early. He had already changed out of his suit and into a black t-shirt and grey sweatpants, looking like the epitome of comfort with his messy hair, likely from pulling the shirt over his head. You hated how attractive he looked and the way it made your stomach turn and your heartbeat speed up. He noticed your presence hovering at the end of the living room before looking you over, his feline eyes watching you from above the rim of his glass. His gaze made heat bloom all over your body and you could only pray that he couldn’t tell how flustered you felt.

You were supposed to be mad at him, damn it. 

Although, were you allowed to now that he’d apologized? But that apology wasn’t what you’d wanted, not that you knew what you wanted. 

Sighing internally, you decided to remain cold with him. He’d wanted to reemphasize the distance between you two, so he’d get that. 

Settling for a curt nod, you walked past him into the foyer to slip on some simple, block heels, bending down to secure the straps. Yoongi cleared his throat behind you, causing you to turn back to face him. 

“Going out?”

“Yes,” you answered, pausing for a moment, pondering if you should tell him who you were meeting, considering his reaction to Hoseok last time. Maybe it was petty of you, but part of you wanted to push his buttons as much as he was pushing yours, wanted to make him annoyed and angry, just as much as you were at him. 

“I’m meeting Hobi for dinner,” you finished, confidently staring him down. His eyebrow twitched and you saw his gaze narrow, but he didn’t show much of a reaction outside of that. 

“Alright, have fun,” he said curtly, turning his attention back to his phone and whiskey. You almost scoffed at his standoffish attitude, but ultimately shrugged. You didn’t have the energy in you to be bothered by him. 

You did a final check of your belongings before opening the door and heading downstairs to catch a cab to the restaurant, you had a feeling you’d be drinking at some point tonight. In your haste, you missed the way Yoongi’s eyes followed your form, watching you leave without a glance in his direction. 

The restaurant certainly seemed fancy, it looked like Hoseok’s business partner had quite the expensive taste. You exited the cab as gracefully as you could in a cocktail dress and entered, immediately spotting Hoseok’s bright smile and energetic wave signaling you over. The hostess smiled, letting you pass to sit at the table he was at. He stood as you approached, enveloping you in a tight hug before releasing you and letting you sit across from him. As you settled in, you took the opportunity to observe his business partner, who was sitting beside him. 

He was quite pretty, with a round, angelic face and plump lips, and his hair was a soft grey, tousled atop his head. He smiled at you, eyes crinkling, making them look closed, which only made you smile widely in response. 

“It’s nice to meet you, I’m Park Jimin,” he introduced, bowing slightly. 

“Nice to meet you as well, I’m Seo Y/N,” you responded, returning the bow, “Hobi has been telling me how excited he is to be opening up a studio with you.”

Jimin’s face lit up, smiling even wider, “Yes! I’m so excited, it’s the whole reason I did my MBA. I’m just hoping we can find a good studio space.”

You nodded along to his words, noticing that he tended to become quite excited when he talked, similar to the man sitting next to him. 

“By the way, I love your dress,” Jimin exclaimed, startling you with the sudden compliment. 

“Oh, thank you,” you stumbled, “I love your hair and eye makeup.”

Jimin smiled, which he seemed to do quite often, also similar to Hoseok, “Thanks! I wanted to try out a fancy look since I was meeting Hoseok’s friends.”

“They’re not worth the effort,” Hoseok teased, making you gasp in fake indignation, “Where’s Joo, by the way, it’s already fifteen past.”

“She’ll probably be late,” you said, trying to soothe the worry lines appearing on Hoseok’s face, “You know how she is.”

“That’s what worries me,” he responded, only making you laugh.

“I’m here! I made it,” Joohee stumbled in, speedwalking to your table before ruffling Hoseok’s hair in greeting, “It’s nice to finally meet you!”

She slides in beside you, bowing a greeting to Jimin, “Hobi’s told us so much, he’s been really excited to work with you.”

“Thanks,” Jimin laughed, “I’m excited to work with him too. Opening up a studio has always been my dream, and Hoseok feels like the perfect partner.”

You both smile at Jimin’s words before starting to fuss over the menu and throwing question after question at Jimin to try and get him to open up. Over the course of the dinner, you learn he’s fairly high-maintenance, hence the restaurant choice, but he tends to back it up himself, which he proved when he offered to pay the tab. He tells you about his time in Hoseok’s old dance studio and how he was unsatisfied, so he decided to pursue his MBA in Seoul to eventually open up his own school. 

“It was a huge decision to make, I mean, Busan was my home. But I knew opening up my own studio was what I had to do, and I left everything behind to do it, my family, my boyfriend, and my job. It was hard,” he detailed, a glass and a half of wine into the dinner, “But it’ll be worth it, I just know it.” 

You smiled at him, “It definitely will be. Whatever you and Hobi do, I just know it’ll take off.”

“And don’t be afraid to let me or Y/N know if you need investors,” Joohee jumped in, “I know plenty of old men with fat pockets.”

Chuckling, you all took a sip of your drinks before Hoseok surprised you with a new line of questioning, “How’s the newly married life so far?”

“Oh, did you just get married,” Jimin asked excitedly, gesturing at the ring encasing your finger, “That’s so exciting, congratulations!”

“Thanks,” you smiled awkwardly, “I did, about a week ago. It’s been good so far, it’s nice.”

You couldn’t get into the specifics with Jimin there, someone whom you’d just met, it’d make things too awkward. Thankfully, Joohee came to your rescue.

“I meant to ask, how’s the studio space hunting going? Hobi’s been touring for that and his own apartment, he must’ve seen half of Seoul by now,” she joked, relieving some of the tension Hoseok’s question incited in you. The dinner conversation continued on pleasantly, but you felt yourself pulling away from your surroundings, your thoughts drifting to your husband. 

His behavior was confounding, to say the least, and it had occupied the back of your mind for the past few months, even before you got married. It felt like a constant static itching the corner of your brain, his voice humming in a soundtrack to your thoughts. 

The sound of Joohee gathering her things beside you pulled you back into the conversation and noticing they were getting ready to leave. You focused in to hear what they were talking about and learned that it was the terrible housing market in Seoul, leaving you to nod in agreement. You were lucky to score the apartment that you did, which was one of the reasons you were so reluctant to leave it, knowing that you wouldn’t have a place to go if you needed to leave Yoongi’s apartment. 

You jumped in with your comments here and there as your group walked to the exit, finally feeling present again, and stopped just outside the restaurant.

“It was really great meeting you both,” Jimin said cheerfully, hugging you and Joohee, “I hope we can meet up again soon!”

“Same here,” you grinned, “We’ll make Hobi create a group chat.”

Hoseok rolled his eyes before calling a cab, “Here, Jimin, let me get one for you. Text me when you’re in your apartment.”

Jimin saluted, grinning, before entering the taxi that had stopped at the curb. He waved until he was out of your line of sight, leaving you to sigh and turn to face your two friends. They stood behind you, arms crossed, and looking at you quite sympathetically. 

“What? Is this an intervention,” you joked, but they quickly shook their heads, reigniting your nerves. 

“Don’t think I didn’t hear your answer earlier,” Joohee stated, “You clearly need to talk about Yoongi.” Hoseok only nodded in agreement. 

You exhaled slowly, clearly, nothing was getting past your friends’ watchful eyes, “Alright, want to go back to my apartment? Hobi’s headed there anyway.”

Hobi only smiled, squeezing your shoulder before signaling for another cab.

“He’s just so confusing, I don’t know what I’m supposed to think,” you sighed frustratedly. 

“I agree, I think he’s playing games with you,” Joohee said, swirling her glass before taking a sip of her wine, “He’s being all hot and cold. What is he, fifteen?”

You chuckled, “It feels like I’m fifteen sometimes, the way he makes me feel.”

“I don’t know, maybe he’s just as confused as you are,” Hoseok interjects, causing you to shift your head to look at him. He was sprawled across your loveseat in a ratty t-shirt and sweats, munching on some chips. 

Joohee sat up, adjusting in her seat to face him as well, “What do you mean? He’s the one being confusing.” You nodded in agreement.

“Well, guys can be different,” Hoseok started, “Maybe he just doesn’t really understand what’s going on, this situation is new for both of you.”

You leaned back on your couch once more, considering Hoseok’s words while staring at your ceiling.

“Maybe he’s just using the distance excuse as a defense mechanism because he’s confused about how he feels about you,” he continued, “I saw the way he looked at you, Y/N. He definitely cares to some degree.”

You frowned, finding his statement hard to believe, but you tried to put yourself in Yoongi’s shoes nonetheless. Was he really developing feelings for you? Is that why he put more distance between you two, because he was scared? It felt difficult to conceptualize after the months of telling yourself there was no way Yoongi would ever harbor romantic feelings toward you. 

“But still,” Joohee interrupted your thoughts, “Even if that is the reason he’s acting this way, wouldn’t that still make him immature? He should have more emotional intelligence than to send mixed signals because he’s confused about his own feelings. Either way, he needs to grow up.”

Hoseok only hummed, tossing another chip in his mouth, but Joohee’s words struck you, making you sit up from your horizontal posture. 

“I mean, to be fair, are any of us really grown up,” you verbalized, making Joohee look at you questioningly, “All of us are immature in some way, and he doesn’t have any experience in this kind of situation like Hobi said. He probably went into this thinking that it was going to be more like a business partnership than anything and it hasn’t exactly been like that.”

You sighed, staring into your empty wine glass, “I feel like it’s unfair to hold him accountable for everything as if he’s some kind of villain. He still apologized and he’s been respectful. Whether he has feelings for me or not, he’s still navigating a new dynamic just like me. He’s allowed to make a few mistakes along the way, right?”

Joohee shook her head and smiled at you, “Yes, he is, but he’s still clearly hurting you. I think you guys need to talk this out. Clearly, you’re not on the same page. And even if he is just figuring out new feelings for you or not, you’re not obligated to wait around and find out. You can live your life how you want in the meantime.”

You returned her smile, “Yeah, you’re right, but I kind of feel like I already am. I don’t really have anything that I want to do that I’m not already doing. Honestly, not much has changed for me other than gaining a new, handsome roommate.”

She laughed in response before poking you, “How about going out and meeting someone? You can always take them back here. Yoongi said that he was fine with it, so you should go get laid. I know it’s been a while and you deserve the fun with someone who’s clear about their intents.”

You shrugged, “I know he said he was fine with it, but it still feels like cheating to me. I don’t know, it just makes me feel icky. I’m just not interested, really, just like before I got married.”

Joohee nodded, “Well, nothing wrong with that. I just hope that you’re not doing it because you feel like it’s unfair to Yoongi, he’s been more than clear about his consent.”

You shook your head, “It’s not that. I’d feel this way with anyone, you know how much I hate cheating. I can honestly say that even if Yoongi set me up with someone and went off with someone else, I still wouldn’t. It’s just not appealing to me right now. Maybe that’ll change, who knows?”

“That’s fair,” Joohee hummed, “You shouldn’t do anything you don’t want to. I’m glad you seem good with that at least.”

You nodded, tracing the rim of your glass, “What happened to Hobi? He’s been strangely quiet.”

The both of you turned to look at the loveseat only to see Hoseok’s head hanging off the edge of the cushioned arm, mouth open letting out quiet snores.

You and Joohee giggled before standing to try and transport him to his temporary bed in your guest room. The two of you got ready for bed and soon curled up under your comforter with Joohee whispering, “I hope you get to talk to him. I want things to work out for you.”

“Thanks, Joo,” you whispered back, “I’m so lucky to have you.”

Joohee only smiled and mumbled a quick, “I’m lucky to have you too. Goodnight, Y/N-ie.”

You laughed quietly, “Goodnight, Joo.”

When you awoke the next morning, Joohee had already left, having to go back to her apartment to get ready for work. She left a sweet note saying goodbye on your nightstand, making you smile. 

You left Hoseok to sleep in, figuring he’d wake up when he wanted. As compensation for his stay in your guest room, you snagged another one of his large shirts since most of your comfy shirts were at Yoongi’s apartment. Rushing through a simple morning routine, you quickly gathered your things to head back to Yoongi’s apartment. You hadn’t intended to stay out during the night, and even though you had a right to, you still felt the same panic you’d felt in your childhood having to face your mom after spending time with your friends. 

You scribbled out a note to Hoseok and left it out on the kitchen counter and rushed out the door, making your way to the bus station near your apartment building. It was a fairly long ride over to Yoongi’s apartment, so you settled in with some music and tried to relax your heart. You had no reason to be nervous, Yoongi likely wouldn’t have even noticed. He’d probably be at work by now, not even realizing that you hadn’t come back last night. You watched the people of Seoul through the bus window, walking to their jobs and checking their phones, likening them to what Yoongi probably looked like in the morning on his commute to work. Your fantasy was interrupted by the notion that Yoongi was probably driven to work in a sleek car and rode the elevator to the top floor. 

Blinking out of your daze, you noticed only two stops were left until yours and began getting ready to get up. Once you reached, you exited swiftly, making your way inside the building and nodding at the security guard. 

After taking the elevator up, you opened the front door as quietly as you could before entering and carefully closing it. You sighed as the silent house, it seemed like Mrs. Lim wasn’t here yet. Breathing a sigh of relief, you turned around to walk upstairs and were immediately startled by Yoongi sitting on the couch, calmly watching your movements. 

“Oh! Yoongi-ssi, I didn’t realize you’d be home,” you breathed, practically clutching at your chest, “Sorry if I’m disturbing you.”

“Not at all,” he hummed, setting his phone down to look at you, observing your frazzled state, “Late night?”

“Um, yeah, kind of,” you stuttered, “Hobi, Joohee, and I were drinking a bit.”

He only nodded, raising his eyebrow slightly, leaving you standing silently and awkwardly. You let out an awkward laugh before scooting around the couch and climbing up the stairs and to the safety of your room. Entering and closing the door behind you had you exhaling loudly and practically collapsing on your bed. 

How were you supposed to talk about your relationship with him when you could barely get through a thirty-second exchange? 

The rest of the week passed by peacefully with you barely interacting with Yoongi. You were almost relieved if it didn’t only put you more on edge for the weekend. You were dreading having to navigate around him being in the house for the whole day, but you were looking forward to going back to work the following week. You had had enough of lazing around and feeling unproductive, especially when all your friends were still busy so you couldn’t hang out with them. Joohee was working, of course, but Hoseok had finally settled on an apartment and was preparing to move in, leaving you quite lonely in your room. 

Friday meant that Yoongi would likely be home late, if at all, because he tended to spend it with his friends as Namjoon had informed you. It left you by your lonesome in the large apartment, where you ended up lying in bed for most of it. The lack of work was really starting to take a toll on you and made you recall when Yoongi’s mother had implied that you should quit when you got married.

The idea made you laugh. If the last two weeks were anything to go by, leaving you with nothing to do during the day would only result in an extended depressive episode. A glance at the clock on your side table let you know that it had gotten late enough in the evening to grab some dinner, which you opted to order in, feeling lazy. 

You ate in your room glumly watching some video or other and not really paying attention. You wondered if this weekend would be the one where you had your conversation with Yoongi. How would you even start that? What if he refused to talk to you or got defensive? If the conversation did work out, what would it mean for your relationship with Yoongi? Could you become friends?

The thoughts continued to swirl around in your brain as you gathered your dishes to deposit in the dishwasher and walked to your door. As you reached it, you noted some quiet voices on the ground floor, making your eyebrows raise. Maybe Yoongi’s friends had come? 

Shrugging, you opened your door and walked downstairs, turning into the living room and almost dropping your plate in shock. 

On the couch, Yoongi was on top of someone else with his hands on their face and supporting him on the couch, notably missing his ring, and kissing whoever was underneath. The sight was startling and troubling, immediately making tears fill your eyes. 

You should’ve expected this so why were you so upset? 

You didn’t take time to dwell on it and opted to run back to your room instead, but as you hastily turned back towards the stairs, the dishes in your hands slid against each other, making a loud noise. 

The noise alerted Yoongi and whoever was underneath him to your presence, making you flinch hard. 

“Y/N?”

You faced him with warm cheeks and wet eyes before steeling your expression. He didn’t need to know that you were affected, you refused to let him see you weak because of his actions. His face looked slightly shocked but his messy hair, unbuttoned dress shirt, and swollen lips made your heart hurt. The person underneath him sat up, facing you, mouth falling open in shock. 

“Y/N-ssi?”

Your own eyes widened, mirroring Jimin’s equally horror-stricken expression. He scrambled off the couch, attempting to fix his rumpled top, before stumbling over to you. 

“Y/N-ssi, I’m so sorry, I didn’t realize, I mean, I didn’t know-” he stuttered, grabbing your hands in a pleading manner, “I’m so sorry.”

You smiled as kindly as you could in that moment, he was just as much a victim in this as you were, “It’s okay, Jimin-ssi. Seriously. It’s complicated.”

His brows furrowed at your answer, but you could see the relief flood his face at your forgiveness, “Okay, but I’m still sorry. I’ll talk to you about it later though, it looks like you have some stuff to work out. I’ll text you, I promise.”

You nodded, mustering your best smile, and waved him off, finding yourself unable to speak much more. He quickly grabbed his phone off the table and whispered acidly to Yoongi before leaving quickly. 

His exit left you staring at the floor while Yoongi still stood by the couch. He took a few steps forward but stopped once you flinched back against the stair banister. 

“Y/N, I,” he started, but you cut him off. 

“It’s fine, we agreed about this. It’s fine,” you stated, before nodding curtly and turning to head up the stairs. 

You heard Yoongi call after you but you couldn’t bring yourself to turn around. You could feel your eyes welling up and your lip trembling, something you couldn’t let Yoongi see. Setting your eyes forward, you stiffly walked to your room, ignoring Yoongi’s call of your name. 

After retreating, you shut the door behind you, immediately crumpling to the ground in quiet cries. You should’ve known this would happen, you had even mentioned it to a degree with Joohee, so why did it hurt so much?

Maybe you had let your hopes rise after what Hoseok had said the other night and let your head fill with the idea of you and Yoongi sharing feelings for each other. Clearly, that was not the case. Whatever it was, it made your chest hurt and tears roll down your cheeks as you suppressed choked sobs. 

This felt like an overreaction. What right did you have to feel upset? This was the deal from the start. He had made it clear since the beginning that you were both allowed to take partners and you had prepared yourself. So why did it still hurt so much?

Feeling your sobs subside into wet hiccups, you slowly stood, tossing your dishes onto your desk and collapsing on your bed. You felt exhausted and dehydrated, and there was a headache almost certainly in your future. 

The sight of Yoongi with bitten lips above Jimin was still clear in your mind and only made you want to curl up into a ball. This wasn’t feasible. 

Your mind drifted to what Joohee had said before. What was really stopping you from going out and sleeping with someone too? Nothing was, and in your hurt and angry stupor, you vowed to make good on that. 

Reaching for your phone, you dug through your contacts before selecting the one you were looking for. 

To Lee Jaehyun:

You:

Hey, it’s been a while. Are you still in Seoul? I’d like to catch up.

With that, you sighed, shutting off your phone and closing your eyes. Exhaustion quickly overtook you, leaving you dozing quietly in only a few minutes.

The next morning had you waking with a pounding headache and a dread of leaving your room. The idea that you might face Yoongi outside was more than unappealing so you opted for staying in your room. Was it the coward’s way out? Maybe, but you felt that you deserved to be a coward for a bit. 

Yoongi hadn’t attempted to talk to you since your stunted conversation, there were no new calls or knocks on your door. You supposed he didn’t have a reason to, but some part of you wanted to hear him beg for your forgiveness. 

However, there was one new message on your phone, part of a conversation that you barely remembered starting and had to read through bleary eyes. 

Lee Jaehyun:

Hey, Y/N! It has been a while, it’s good to hear from you. I heard through the grapevine that you got married, congrats! 

I’m still in Seoul, I’m actually free tonight for dinner if you’re down to talk. We can do something casual at our usual spot. 

Despite the mindset you’d been in when you sent Jaehyun a message, hearing from him still brought a smile to your face. He was always sweet when you were dating and stayed that way after you’d broken up. You knew he understood the nature of your marriage and that it was likely what you were messaging him about, which it technically was. 

He had always been so understanding, you could only hope that he’d understand what you wanted to do and be willing to follow through on it with you. You quickly typed out a response before glancing at the time. You still had a while to hide in your room until you could leave to meet Jaehyun. 

To Lee Jaehyun:

You:

Sounds good, I can’t wait to see you. Does 6 sound good? 

Only a few minutes later, a text from Jaehyun came in confirming the time was fine. It left you to only wait until it was close enough to six to start getting ready. You occupied yourself with anything you could, trying your best not to think about Yoongi and instead, hyping yourself up for your night with Jaehyun. 

You could do this. 

You made sure to shower and shave properly and donned a casual, ruched dress that you knew Jaehyun loved on you. Taking the time to style your hair and put on some flattering natural makeup, you started to feel somewhat better about this. Who says you had you stop your sex life because of this? Even though it was already on hiatus long before your engagement, but that was neither here nor there. 

Touching up some last few details with your look, making sure to add a necklace that dipped into your cleavage, and double checking that you were wearing the right lingerie, you felt ready. One last look in the mirror had you feeling like a woman on a mission, and you essentially were, though not a noble one. 

The thought made you cringe but you tried to wipe away any guilt you felt. Clearly, Yoongi hadn’t felt any when he’d brought Jimin home. Jimin had texted you again last night but you hadn’t found the energy to text him back yet. You’d worry about that after fucking Jaehyun. 

With your look finished, you exited your room, making sure to be as quiet as possible so as to not alert Yoongi. You made it out the door successfully and breathed a sigh of relief. 

You quickly hailed a cab to take you to a ramen bar that you and Jaehyun frequented while you were still dating. As you reached, the memories of your relationship flooded your mind, triggered by the warm lighting on your skin and the spiced aroma filling the restaurant. You quickly spotted Jaehyun in the usual booth you’d sat in, somehow always empty for you two even on busy nights. He stood to greet you, hugging you loosely, before gesturing for you to sit. 

You noticed his eyebrow raise at your attire. You knew he knew you well enough that your appearance would tip him off somewhat to your intentions, you were slightly dreading having to explain to him your stupid idea. 

“Special occasion,” he questioned, nodding at your dress, eyes narrowing in on your necklace. 

You smiled, “Seeing you is a special occasion, right?”

At that he stopped, his eyes meeting yours once more, “Y/N, what are you up to?”

Your smile turned sheepish, shrugging slightly, “Nothing, nothing. I just wanted to see you.”

“In that dress?”

“Would be believe me if I said yes,” you joked. 

He laughed, making your heart warm. His laugh was always bright and contagious, it was one of your favorite things about him. 

“I’d think you have ulterior motives, Y/N. You know how I feel about that dress,” he chuckled, taking a sip of the beer next to him. 

You flagged down a waiter, ordering one for yourself, before facing him once more, “I do.”

Both of Jaehyun’s eyebrows raised at that, eyes narrowing at your figure, “You know the effect you have on me, Y/N, but you’re still married.”

You held back a sigh, not looking forward to explaining your dilemma, “I am, but the rules are…loose. And you’re the only one I was interested in.”

“Y/N,” Jaehyn started, suddenly much firmer, “Are you okay? This isn’t like you.”

The sudden concern made you melt, remembering why you’d loved him so much before, even though you’d dated for a relatively short amount of time. Your beer arrived next to you and you took a large sip to gain some courage. 

“I’m fine, promise. This is what I want.” That probably sounded believable enough.

Jaehyun hummed, taking another sip from his own glass, “Okay, then. Let’s see where this goes.”

Jaehyun’s apartment looked almost identical to the last time you’d been there, save for some new small pieces of decor. You didn’t have much time to observe it though, from the way Jaehyun was feverishly kissing you, pressing your body up against the door. 

He felt familiar and safe and the way his hands traveled down your body to slip past the hem of your dress was a nostalgic sensation. His mouth was attached to yours, kissing you without leaving you room to breathe, resulting in you gasping in breaths in the rare reprieves he did give you. He hiked up your leg against his waist before trailing his mouth down your neck, sucking a mark onto your collarbone. 

Your grip on his shirt tightened as his fingers approached your underwear, tantalizing your first foreign touch in a while. Your breaths were short and quick, letting yourself swim in the sensation of Jaehyun’s breath ghosting the neckline of your dress. Your head fell back against the door, your mouth slightly open, and your chest heaving at his close proximity. The cold feeling of your necklace against your chest slowly lifted, causing you to glance down to see Jaehyun catching the pendant in his teeth and dragging it up your cleavage, shooting you a lopsided grin. 

“Fuck,” you breathed, grabbing the side of his face and bringing him in for another kiss, this time more sloppy as the pendant slipped from his mouth. 

“Let me take you to the bed,” he whispered, tapping your thigh, and making you jump into his arms. He carried you into his bedroom, which you distantly noted hadn’t changed much either, and laid you down on his soft sheets, resuming kissing you while reaching for the zipper in the back of your dress. 

You felt his fingers travel along with the zipper down your back, erecting goosebumps in their wake, and the fabric slowly fell from your body. He lifted the dress off you leaving you in the purple lingerie you knew he enjoyed decorating your skin in sheer lace.

He grinned down at you, “Fuck, you know just what to do to me.”

He dove into the valley between your breasts and kissed down your navel, dragging his teeth along your skin. As you looked down at him, the sight of his black hair similar to another’s against your stomach suddenly made you feel slightly sick, and his veined hand and long fingers encircling your nipple had a striking resemblance to another pair of hands you appreciated. 

As Jaehyun’s mouth traveled towards your center, the sickly feeling grew and you couldn’t help but feel immense guilt not only toward Yoongi but Jaehyun as well. 

What were you doing?

Why were you doing this? Just to prove a point? That you can also fuck other people?

The questions made your head spin and you sat up suddenly, startling Jaehyun. Burying your head in your hands, you mumbled out apologies to Jaehyun, and maybe Yoongi too. 

“Hey, what’s wrong,” Jaehyun asked, settling himself in beside you, putting his arm around your shoulder, “Are you okay?”

“No,” you choked out, “I’m so sorry, but I don’t think I can do this.”

“That’s okay, we don’t have to do anything,” Jaehyun soothed, rubbing circles into your shoulder, “Want to talk about it?”

“I’m so sorry, it just feels so unfair to you,” you opted to not mention the guilt you felt toward Yoongi as well, “I shouldn’t be doing this, it’s stupid.”

“Why is that,” Jaehyun prompted.

“We decided early on that our marriage would be open,” you managed to say in between quick breaths and wet heaves, “Well, he decided that. I didn’t want that, I actually like him.”

This felt pathetic.

“But I caught him yesterday, with someone else. Fuck, it shouldn’t even bother me, but it does,” you muttered angrily, “And I decided I’d sleep with someone else too, just because of that. I’m so sorry, you don’t deserve this.”

“Hey,” Jaehyun turned your chin toward him, making you face him, “I’m an adult, I agreed to this. I did this because I wanted to, I wasn’t expecting us to start dating again. It’s okay that you tried this, and that you clearly aren’t comfortable with it. You have nothing to be sorry for.”

“It’s so immature though, so petty,” you cried.

“So what? You can still be immature sometimes, you’re not perfect. Just because you’re an adult doesn’t mean you can’t make mistakes. I’m glad you stopped before you did anything you would’ve regretted,” Jaehyun smiled kindly, wiping your tears. 

His words made you pause, echoing what you’d said about Yoongi to Joohee earlier that week. Your sobs dried up into short breaths and a cough, making Jaehyun get up to get you water. You sat on his bed feeling rather small and your damp underwear felt uncomfortable. 

Jaehyun’s comforting still didn’t get rid of the guilt you felt but his gentle smile upon returning with a glass of water eased it slightly. You sipped it, feeling yourself calm down, watching Jaehyun ruffle through his closet before pulling out a large shirt you’d often stolen from him during your relationship.

“Here,” he said, handing you the shirt, “Wear that, you can sleep here, I don’t want you out in this state. I’ll take the couch.”

“No, I couldn’t let you do that in your own home,” you protested, “Let me take the couch.”

Jaehyun raised his hand, silencing you, “I’m not hearing it. Please, just sleep here and let me know if you need anything.”

“Okay,” you nodded, lowering your gaze to the water in your lap. 

“And, Y/N,” he called, making you look up at him again, “I’m glad you reached out. We can always talk, I’m always here for you.”

You smiled, feeling emotional for a new reason now, his kindness washing over you in a soothing wave, “Thanks, Jaehyun. I’m here for you too, whenever you need it.”

He grinned before whispering a quick goodnight and shutting the door behind him. 

Finally alone, you sighed. What a night. You still felt guilty, though you knew it wouldn’t do much good now, and you were honestly happy that you’d stopped things before it went too far. You were doing this for the wrong reasons, and even before you’d gotten engaged, you’d had no interest in sleeping with people. What transpired tonight was clearly just an attempt to get back at Yoongi, which was unfair to all parties involved, but especially Jaehyun. 

You felt a little disgusted with yourself for using him that way when he’d been nothing but sweet to you. What had you become?

Finishing your water, you stood and peeled the lingerie off of your body and slipped on Jaehyun’s giant college t-shirt. It felt a little weird to not be wearing anything but the shirt to bed, but you didn’t have much choice with your lingerie being disgusting at this point. You quickly gathered your soiled clothing and stuffed it into a plastic bag you’d found, planning to bring it home as discreetly as possible the next morning. That left you lying in Jaehyun’s bed, head still swimming with the events of the past 48 hours. 

In a way, you were glad this had happened, it had given you the confirmation that whoever your partner was, no matter the openness of the relationship, you weren’t interested in dating outside of your marriage. Even if you didn’t have any feelings for Yoongi, you still would’ve felt disgusted. You could hear Joohee chastizing you in your head about how you had a right to get even and that you deserved to have fun, but this wasn’t fun to you. It wasn’t appealing in the slightest. 

Despite the nightmarish evening, you felt content with where you were in your own sexuality. Maybe at some point, you would become comfortable enough to actually sleep with other people, but that wasn’t something you wanted to worry about right now. 

Right now, you weren’t near ready for that. What you needed was to have that conversation with Yoongi, and, with newfound courage, you resolved to have it by the end of the day tomorrow. 

With your new mission in mind, you felt yourself drift to sleep in the distantly familiar feeling of Jaehyun’s mattress and scent. 

The next morning had you feeling more embarrassed than guilty at the previous night’s events, and you quietly exited Jaehyun’s room, hoping not to wake him on the couch before leaving. Just your luck though that his door creaked loudly, making him sit up from his position on the couch. 

His bleary stare and messy hair made you smile as you waved a shy hello. He waved lazily with one hand and rubbed his eyes with the other, taking in the sight of you in just his shirt, your lingerie and dress sitting in the plastic bag hanging from your hand. 

“Damn, I really wish you weren’t married,” he slurred, likely still quite sleepy. 

You laughed, walking over to him, “If I get divorced, you’ll be my first call.”

He smiled loosely, still quite tired, “Yes, do that. Anyway, you can take one of my shorts, but please let me drive you back. I’m nervous about you going out like that.”

You nodded, “Okay, thanks. For everything, seriously.” You wanted to say more, but you weren’t sure how to phrase it. The unconditional kindness he displayed to you left you speechless and only more upset that he wasn’t the one you got to marry. 

The ride back to Yoongi’s apartment was fairly quiet, with Jaehyun still quite tired, as he was never a morning person. He stopped in front of Yoongi’s building, whistling at the height of the tower. You smiled and thanked him again, squeezing his hand, before opening the door to leave. 

“Hey, seriously, Y/N. Call me if you ever need anything, I’m always here to listen,” he said, watching you exit his car. 

“Thanks, Jaehyun. I really can’t thank you enough,” you responded, smiling at his waving off of your answer. You shut the door before steeling your resolve for what awaited you in Yoongi’s apartment. 

This was going to have to happen sooner or later, but it was time to have an honest conversation with Yoongi. 

And you were going to be okay, no matter the outcome. 

Probably.

Yoongi was tipsy. He hadn’t seen you since last night when you’d come downstairs in the middle of him making out with some guy he’d found at the club with Taehyung and Seokjin. You seemed to know the guy, Jimin he remembers, and that made him feel odd. 

He wasn’t upset, no, he felt sick in his gut that you apparently knew the person he’d chosen to sleep with outside of your marriage. 

He wasn’t sure why it was so upsetting to him, you’d both decided early on to leave your relationship open. Theoretically, there was nothing wrong with what he did. But it didn’t stop the guilt that swirled in his stomach, making him reach for more whiskey. 

Something about your expression, just as you’d turned around after he’d noticed you. Your eyes were teary and you were biting your lip. Your eyebrows were knotted together and he could see the tight grip you had on the plate in your hands. 

Your expression made his heart clench. 

It was the most emotion he’d seen on your face, and you seemed unbelievably upset. And he had done that to you. 

What was worse was the way your face returned to its usual cold exterior only moments later, the epitome of calm and collected. Was Yoongi not worth becoming emotional over for you?

No, Yoongi wasn’t upset about that. No, he was upset that you felt the need to control yourself like that. Yoongi had grown up being taught to control his every emotion, his every expression, and any aspect of his body language, and it molded him into an emotionally stunted adult with only a few close friends with whom he could loosen up with. 

He had done that to you. 

Yoongi resisted the urge to slam his glass down on his desk. He was a piece of shit, he felt disgusting. 

You hadn’t come out of your room since last night and he wasn’t sure what to do. Did you even want to see him for him to apologize? He didn’t want to message you, the fear of being ignored was too great. 

Suddenly, he heard the front door open and close, and silence afterward. So you’d gone out. Fair enough, Yoongi couldn’t blame you. He wouldn’t want to be around himself if he were you either. 

He didn’t want to be around himself as it was. 

Fuck.

He was getting in over his head. He remembered the feel of Jimin’s plush lips against his own and his skin under the rough pads of Yoongi’s fingertips, but he didn’t feel anything. It felt like he was forcing himself, going through the motions, desperate to find an answer to the confusion he’d felt since he’d married you. 

In a way, he’d found an answer. Yoongi was undeniably attracted to you, and only you. Jimin was a last-ditch effort to prove to himself that he wasn’t developing feelings for you, and that had failed. Catastrophically. 

This, however, brought a new dilemma for Yoongi, what was he supposed to do about it? It wasn’t fair to you for Yoongi to push these new feelings onto you after being caught with someone else. Yoongi knew that much. It’d only serve to be confusing and upsetting to you. So what was he supposed to do? 

Yoongi bit his lip, hard. When was the last time he’d had feelings for someone? Taehyung? That would’ve been years ago, when they’d first met, and Taehyung had had a girlfriend at the time. So Yoongi had pushed his feelings down and repressed them until they were no longer there and Taehyung was nothing but a good friend. 

But this was different. Yoongi was married to you, he had the opportunity to pursue his feelings. But what of the consequences? What if you didn’t want that? What if you were disgusted with him, now? Rightfully so, he mused. 

A sigh escaped his mouth as he refilled his whiskey glass, his head was starting to hurt. New whiskey was poured into his glass but he did not drink it.

Despite the fact that he’d finally come to terms with his budding affection for you, he’d never felt more lost and confused.  

previous / masterlist / next

[thought--bubble]

When he Breaks

Modern Aemond X (ex GF) reader

Word Count: 3,098

Note* This was written for @targaryen-dynasty's 3K celebration! (Congratulations my love you deserve it all!)

Modern Aemond Masterlist

Full Masterlist

Dividers and banners by @arcielee

Warnings:Toxic relationship dynamics, alcohol use, swearing, smut (fingering female receiving)

Four months should have been enough time. Should have been enough time to completely move on from the two-year whirlwind that was your relationship with the ever-elusive Aemond Targaryen.

Your relationship with Aemond Targaryen was difficult to put it mildly. You had tried. Really tried to make it work, but like with most things, there comes a time when things have simply run their course.

Aemond could be sweet, yet mostly, he was cold, closed off, and angry.

Aemond does not simply feel angry. He embodies anger. With each step he takes, he carries it around with him, like a festering wound he refuses to treat lest he forget the injustices he has suffered.

The smallest things could set him off, a harmless joke from his brother or his nephew simply breathing the same air.

the issue between him and his nephew, Luke, was simple enough to understand. You always thought it so tragic how an unfortunate childhood accident could tear a family apart at the seams. The accident had left Aemond blind in one eye, and as far as Aemond saw it, no one had ever paid for it. No one ever suffered for it, no one but Aemond that is.

His hate and anger ruled his life. It seeped into every facet of his being. Even being his girlfriend was not a shield from his rage.

This anger would come to a head when he ruined his father's birthday celebration, potentially the last one his sick ailing father would have. When he stood up and gave a toast insulting his nephews and calling his sister a whore, albeit using a roundabout way to say it. The ensuing physical altercation between Aemond and his other nephew, Jace, had been the final straw for you. No more would you live with this angry man. This powder keg that is just waiting to explode, this dragon grinding his jaw and salivating at any chance to tear apart those he saw as his enemies.

So, when you showed up for Helaena's birthday, a house party, Aegon is throwing. You were concerned about seeing Aemond for the first time since your split. You were over him. At least that's what you told yourself, and you believed it.

Until you walked in to see him, sitting on the sofa, cigarette in hand, smile on his face, and an arm around Floris' shoulders.

Floris Baratheon, a sweet little thing. Not a cruel bone in her body. The absolute visceral response you had to the scene was unexpected, yet you made sure to control your facial expression. You could not let him see you vulnerable or weak.

Yes, you were done with Aemond. You no longer wanted Aemond, but you did not approve of him to move on. To have someone else.

As you watch him sitting with Floris from across the crowded room of Aegon's flat, you feel your anger bubbling up. Four months, and he was already flirting about with a simpleton like Floris Baratheon? Had you meant so little to him?

You jump slightly as Helaena sneaks up next to you as you lean against the breakfast bar, drink in hand.

Helaena has always had this uncanny ability to seemingly pop up out of nowhere, with words of wisdom or nonsense. It truly was luck of the draw.

"There is no need to fight for what you don't want, just because someone else may want it." She muses thoughtfully.

"I'm not fighting for anything," you snap back. "She wants to deal with all of that. She's welcome to him."

"Hmmm," the light hum of Helaena's voice, usually a soothing sound, grates on your nerves.

"The two of you are more alike than either of you realize."

Your head instantly whips to the side, your eyes narrowed. "We are nothing alike," you hiss through gritted teeth.

Helaena simply hums in response before grabbing herself a wine cooler off the counter. "I hope you find some way to enjoy the evening."

"Hey," you call out behind her as she starts to walk away.

She turns and looks at you, with nothing but softness in her lavender eyes.

"Happy Birthday" You give her a weak smile.

"It will be entertaining, at least," she says dreamily before gliding off to welcome more of her friends who had just arrived.

With Helaena's final words lingering in your head, you knock back the drink in your hand and place the empty cup back on the counter.

Revenge is Aemond's favorite pastime. An obsession you have berated him for time and time again, yet here you stand, watching his faux gentleness that he seems intent on displaying for the fawn of a girl that sits beside him and all you can feel is the hunger inside you, willing you to take a bite out of him, sating that need for revenge of your own.

Aemond looks over at you briefly before his eye flickers back to Floris, carrying on their quiet conversation, which, from what you could gather, looked more like Floris speaking incessantly and Aemond, with his false patience, listening intently, or at least pretending to.

"What are ya drinking ya tart!" Aegon slurs as he leans over the counter, mixing himself another drink.

"Had a whiskey, looking for something else, though." You let your words trail off as your eyes search the countertop.

When you finally find the bowl of cherries, you turn to Aegon and bat your lashes. "Make me a tart cherry? You were always the best at making them. " You offer him a sweet smile as you lean over the counter. The short black dress you have on hardly concealing your rear.

"Ahh! A tart for a tart!" Aegon chuckles as he starts to make the drink, spilling liqueur all about the countertop.

You roll your eyes, careful not to let Aegon see. He's an idiot, but tonight, you will make him a useful idiot because leading Aegon is as simple as being kind for a fleeting moment.

"I may just be a tart tonight," you chuckle suggestively, taking the drink from Aegon's hand, slowly sipping at the contents. You can question a lot of things about Aegon. Pretty much everything about Aegon. But not his ability to make a strong drink.

"Let's sit. Catch up. We haven't spoken in quite some time. " You take Aegon by the hand and drag him to the sofa situated directly across from Aemond and Floris before Aegon has any chance to object.

"Right! OK then!" Aegon plops down on the sofa, his drink sloshing over the sides of his cup.

You slowly lower yourself down beside him, careful to make sure your dress rides up your thigh just enough so that the thickest part of your thigh is exposed to both Aegon and Aemond's lecherous glares.

"So Aegon," you place your hand on his thigh, gently running your hand up and down in a soothing motion. "How have you been?"

Aegon doesn't even respond before you feel the burn of Aemond's steely eye burrowing into the side of your face.

Aegon looks down at your hand on his thigh briefly before a lazy smile spreads across his face. "Good, grand actually," he answers as he scoots closer to you.

This is going to be easier than you thought. You could always count on Aegon and his never-quenched thirst for physical affection.

When Aegon lowers his voice to a seductive growl as he explains what he has been up to since the last time you spoke, you tune him out.

Your main concern was your body movements, now that you know Aemond's eye is on you. He is a complex man yet, still just a man.

You cross one leg over the other, your short dress riding up just a tad bit higher. You work hard to conceal the grin that fights to spread across your face as you can hear Aemond across from you uncomfortably shifting in his seat.

"Hmmm," you feign interest as Aegon goes on about passing all of his classes at uni this semester. Something he is most proud of given the unlikelihood of such a feat.

You pluck one of the cherries floating around your drink and slide it slowly past your lips and suck on it. You have yet to spare Aemond a single glance but are fully aware that his eye hasn't left you since you sat down.

"You ummm really like that cherry?" Aegon asks with a mixture of amusement and lust.

"I do," you answer, your voice soft and slow.

"Are you gonna ummm... eat it? Or just uhhh suck on it?" Aegon shifts even closer with this question, leaving almost no space between you.

"It's so sweet.... and a bit tart.... I want to enjoy it fully before I toss it away" You pull the cherry part way from your mouth, circling the small fruit with your tongue before biting through it with your front teeth, the juices dripping down your lip to your chin.

"Fuuuuck," Aegon whispers, his eyes trained on the trail of cherry juice as it reaches your chin.

"Whoops" You collect the juice around your mouth with your fingertip before popping it in your mouth and sucking the juice off.

You can hear Floris babbling about something and find joy in the fact that Aemond has seemed to have stopped responding to her.

Aegon brings his hand to your thigh, squeezing at the flesh there.

"Wanna go outside? Smoke a fag? Just... you and me?"

You go to respond but are cut off by Aemond, who is suddenly choking on his drink loudly.

You finally look over at him, his purple eye a ring of fire. There's all that rage, all that anger, what had driven you away seemed so pretty now.

"Are you alright?" You ask with a tone that's smooth like butter.

Aegon laughs loudly. "Seems my brother has chosen a drink that is too strong for him. This is something he does often. Here Aemond, give me your drink. " Aegon holds his hand out to Aemond. "I will drink it; I am typically able to handle the things thar are too tough for you." Aegon's eyes flit to you on his last word, and you smile at him.

"Is that so? That's a good thing to know." You stand up slowly, placing your nearly empty cup down on the coffee table. "I'm going to run to the rest room and then I'll meet you outside for that fag."

"Smashing" Aegon rises from his seat as you turn your back and walk off toward the restroom, each step calculated to make sure you sway your hips just the way you know Aemond likes it.

When you're done in the bathroom, you open the door to make your way outside, but instead of the empty hallway you expected, Aemond is leaning in the doorway. His shoulder pressed against the wood frame, his blonde bangs covering his bad eye.

"Having a laugh, are ya?" he asks, raising his eyebrows.

"A laugh?" You feign complete ignorance. "Sure, I've had a laugh or two. It's been a lovely evening. " You flash him a sweet smile and then move to the side, attempting to walk around him.

"A lovely evening?" He places his hand on your chest, pushing you backward into the bathroom, closing the door behind him.

"A lovely evening of flirting with my whore of a brother?" His voice is calm, not at all in sync with the tension of his shoulders as he towers over you.

"Well, that is an unkind thing to say. I was merely catching up with a friend." You push his arm from your chest, a movement with which he does not fight. "Who is currently waiting on me outside, so if you don't mind ..."

You again move to walk around him.

"I do, in fact, mind. Do you think this is a game? To tease me all night while using my idiot brother as a pawn?" He snarls, bringing his hands to your waist, his digits clenching around you.

"I have not teased you," you smirk at him. "If you would like me to tease you.  ..." You stand on your tippy toes, bringing your lips to the shell of his ear. "I can certainly do that."

You watch with fascination as his skin prickles and his grip around your waist tightens. "Do not"

You smile knowing you have him now, that cold stoic man that is Aemond Targaryen is putty in your hands, and it hardly took any work at all.

You bring your lips to the softness of his neck, just close enough so that your warm breath skates across his skin. "Do not? Oh, Aemond, you sound so serious when you say it like that."

His breath hitches as you chuckle, your hands sliding under his shirt, your fingertips dancing across his toned stomach.

"You're playing a dangerous game, love," he hisses, his grip on your sides growing tighter, creating a pleasant ache.

"My favorite type of game." You run the tip of your nose up the side of his neck while your hands find purchase on the buttons of his expensive button-down shirt.

"Did I make you angry, my darling?" You ask, a teasing lilt to your tone as you slowly pop out button after button.

A sound comes from his chest, a sound somewhere between a growl and a chuckle, a sound that is completely Aemond. "And why should I be angry? Hmm?"

As you pop out the final button on his shirt, his hand slides into the base of your hair, gripping tight and pulling your head back. "A whore will do as a whore will do, there is nothing to be gained by being angry about it."

"A whore? Is that how you think of me now? A few simple months is all it took for your blood to turn to bile in my presence as well?"

You don't fight his grip. In fact, you crave it. He pushes you up against the sink vanity, lifting you up by your thigh, his other hand never leaving your hair.

"You left me, you betrayed me, like they all do," he nips along your jawline while grinding his hardness up against your heat.

"I left. I did not betray" you argue between pants. The friction of Aemond's movements against your heat, building a pressure in your lower stomach, a fire that gets slightly bigger with each rut.

"Same thing," he reaches under your dress, running his fingers over the damp cloth that is the only thing keeping his fingers from your heated flesh. "You don't want me, but you melt in my hands, like a dirty little whore."

A smile crosses your face, and you close your eyes as he slips his fingers underneath the flimsy cloth of your thong. Circling your nub with quick aggressive strokes.

"So quiet now? Where is that girl I know with the big mouth, hmm?"

You moan loudly as he slips two fingers into your slick entrance.

"Ahhh, there she is," Aemond begins rutting his fingers into you at a quick and brutal pace.

You try to lower your head back down. The need to feel his lips on yours feels like a burning ache.

"Oh no. You don't get to kiss me. No." He brings his thumb to your engorged clit while his fingers continue their relentless pace.

"Whores don't kiss me. They cum on my fingers, when I say so." He growls as he nibbles down the side of your throat, his hand not slowing its pace.

The heat that has been building in your stomach becomes all consuming, your legs involuntarily stretch further apart, and your mouth hangs open wide. "Aemond, Aemond," you pant, each stroke of his fingers bringing you closer and closer to that blissful edge.

"Begging for me again, what a beautiful sound. Cum for me little slut. Cum for me now." He nips on your ear and pushes his thumb down on your clit while continuing to rub his small, rough circles.

Your eyes remain on the bathroom ceiling as the mix of pleasure, heat, and even a little pain continue to rise rapidly with each of Aemond's movements.

"That's fuck... that's it" you dig your fingernails into the skin of his back as you are hit with an overwhelming wave of pleasure, numbness temporarily traveling from your toes and up your legs as if the only feeling your body was capable of registering at this time was this feeling.

He brings his fingers to his mouth, sucking his fingers clean, his one eye watching you intently as you finish riding out your high.

Without a word, he begins to button his shirt back up.

"So that's it then?" You ask frustrated at his cool and cold demeanor.

"Well, Floris is back on the sofa waiting for me and Aegon is waiting on you for that fag which...." he looks you up and down, a smug smile creeping onto his face " I assume you really do need now...."

The feeling of pleasure that had been swirling around your body is instantly replaced with a red-hot rage. "So, you return to Floris, and I return to Aegon?" You hop down from the vanity hastily fixing your clothes and patting down your hair.

You push past him, wrenching the bathroom door open to see Aegon in the hallway.

"Oh, sod off!" Aegon huffs in annoyance. "I knew you were using me to make him jealous. I just hoped he wouldn't go all Aemond on you before I actually got something out of it." He starts to stumble back down the hallway.

"Aegon, wait!" You begin to chase after him when Aemond grips your shoulder.

"Looks like your plans have fallen through."

You quickly shift out of his grasp. "Easy enough to make new plans."

"Go outside. Have your fag and I'll be there in 10 minutes" he says calmly walking past you back toward the living room.

"What?" You call out to his retreating form.

"I have to at least let Floris know I'm leaving. It's the polite thing to do after all."

"Leaving?" You ask incredulously.

Aemond sighs, turning back to look at you. "Yes, leaving. There is a heavier punishment you must suffer for your betrayal.... and I can't very well inflict that upon you in a fucking bathroom."

He turns away from you again, walking quickly. "Ten minutes, love. Give me ten minutes"

To be added to taglist click here

[just-a-ghost00]

Are they "spying" on you? Why?

I just felt called to do this reading very randomly. The theme is also very random. I just thought these pictures were just so adorable.

Group 1

Trust, Love, Surrender rx, Paradox & back of the deck Strength

They try not to. They try so hard. But they just can't resist the urge to check up on you. Watching you from afar is this person's guilty pleasure. Curiosity just gets the best of them. Even if they tell themselves "I should forget about group 1, I have other things to deal with", they constantly find themselves with their nose up in your business lmao Part of the reason why they stalk you is because this person feels a bit confused when it comes to you. They like you but paradoxically they kinda wish they didn't. This person has a hard time trusting others and opening their heart to people in general, especially romantically. They don't want to surrender to whatever may be going on between you but at the same time they just always feel called to come back to you. They just can't stay away from you no matter how hard they try, no matter the number of reasons they try to find to explain why they just should leave and never look back. They try resisting you so hard that it is painful to them. It just feels so unnatural to deny their feelings and attraction. But at the same time, this "love" doesn't make sense to them. I guess that they were surprised to meet you and didn't expect to get attached to you so quickly. And they may be viewing this attachment as a weakness for some reason. I just feel like this person is scared of being toyed with, being hurt and taken advantage of. Which is absolutely legitimate and understandable. Also, I'm getting that they check up on you because they want to see if you're in a similar state. If you too are also confused and feeling messed up ever since you met them. A part of them wants to be reassured and know whether they're alone in this situation or if you reciprocate the feeling. The truth is this person just adores you and somehow has a hard time coming to terms with that. I wonder why that is. Let's pull some tarot cards to get to the depth of this situation.

You got the ace of pentacles, White Numen, 3 of wands, 10 of cups, 2 of swords, Queen of cups.

They just have so many hopes and dreams for this connection that it scares them. Because they feel like it is too much too soon. They're not sure that they're allowed to have such thoughts of you. I feel like they're doubting their sanity in a way. Like "is it even healthy to think of group 1 this way when we don't know each other" kind of inner struggle. Because to this person you mean so much more than what they let on. Not only do they have feelings for you but they hope for a future with you. They want to take the connection to a higher level and see where this leads because they just feel so happy with you and safe. And it just feels like the right thing to do. However, maybe your attitude towards them lead them to believe that you may not be wanting the same thing. So they're puzzled. There's a dilemma going on here. "Should I keep hoping for more or should I just move on?" is what may be going through their mind. I also had the impression that there was another person playing a role in this indecision and confusion. Possibly another interest that they had in the past. And this person's energy is sometimes coming back in their bubble, which pushes this person to try to forget about you. But it's not as easy as they thought it would be. I feel like for others of you that third energy is actually distance. This person is scared of how living at a distance from one another could be impacting the connection. Like "yeah I like group 1 but what if that disappears with time since we don't see each other that much" kind of feeling. Also they may be scared that you end up picking someone else and when they do come in, it's too late for them. So that could also explain why they check up on you. They want to see if you found someone else. This spread also made me feel like this person puts you on a pedestal and feels like they're no match for you.

Group 2

The Weaver, Ask Body rx, Transmute, Shadow & back of the deck Pillar

I wanted to say no but the last two cards made me think otherwise. I feel like this person is not directly checking up on you but is getting information about you through their friends or through their intuition. Also, it could be that they don't actively seek out for you but even if they try not to check up on you, you just constantly appear on their feed or things just remind them of you. Similarily to group 1, I get the feeling of someone fighting the urge not to stalk. And this person is better at it than group 1's person. When they do check up on you, which I feel like doesn't happen very often, this person does their very best for you not to notice. So they could use fake accounts or apps that allow them to see your content without their name appearing in your notifications. I feel the reason why they act this way is because this person is trying to get their control back. It's like they had lost themselves in the connection and they feel like they have to heal from that. So they try to remain at a distance from you and try to keep the interactions at a minimal level. Cause they know that if they open the door, they'll just lose it. I feel like this person just wants to keep a hold on their desire for you. And rather than expressing their passion and pulling you in this spiral of lust, they would rather use this energy as a source of power and inspiration. I feel like they're trying to keep themselves busy and staying on the low. You may notice that this person is less active on their socials or if they do post, they're keeping things very surface level and kind of mysterious. Like they share stuff without sharing too much so it would be hard to really know what they're up to. I also picked up on the energy of someone releasing sexual tension through art or through their work. Or also through physical activity. This person may be hitting the gym more often. You may have noticed physical changes in their appearance. That's because they're trying to distract themselves from the effect you have on them. Since I pulled tarot cards for group 1, I will do the same for you as well.

You got White Numen, 8 of wands, Chariot rx, 9 of cups, Hierophant, ace of cups.

Boy I knew this spread was connected to group 1. If you hesitated between the two groups, you may want to check G1 then. This person got the feels but more importantly they got the hots for you, like really hots. This person is desparately fighting the urge to rush towards you and go down on you. There's so much that they want to say to you but they hold that back because they think you'll think they're crazy. This person daydreams about you 24/7. You're their wish fulfillment. You have everything that they dream of when it comes to their vision of what a partner should be like. This person definitely considers you commitment material and they just love you plain and simple. I have to mention that the 3 of cups is at the back of the deck. Just like in group 1, there's a third party energy here lurking in the shadows. This may be a past connection. But also, this could be that this person is trying to keep things friendly with you because they're just overwhelmed by how they feel towards you and it scares them. It's like they're trying to run away from their feelings and the way they do that is by drowning themselves in work, focusing on various activities at the time to make it look like they're not available for you. Again, I also get that friend group energy like this person's friends know you or something. Maybe they tell this person about how you're doing so that they don't have to feel guilty. Or actually, maybe their friends are trying to get this person to lower their guards down and actually give in to temptation when it comes to you. For some reason, I picked up on a friend saying stuff like "oh group 2 posted a picture, omg they're so beautiful" just to get this person to react. Maybe they even try to make them jealous by interacting with you. That feels a bit weird lmao but I feel like your person's friends are rooting for you and trying to get your person to talk to you. But this person is like "nah we're just friends, group 2 doesn't want me, it's better if we don't talk" and their friends are like "sure, who do you think you're kidding just go and talk to them dumbass".

Group 3

Manifest, Self Love, The Universe, Compassion & back of the deck Connect to heart

No, they are not stalking you. The reason for that is because this person is focused on their self growth, their health and their personal goals. They are doing their best to manifest their desired reality, thus they don't have much energy left to focus on you. This isn't to say that they do not like you. I feel like this person appreciates and values you but they just don't feel the need to check up on you and know every detail of what you're doing. I feel like this person has been through a lot lately and just needs to focus on themselves, to recharge their batteries and do what feels right for them. So they're just not up in your space and they mind their own business. This person is likely to be at a distance from you and you may not hear from them at all. Also I'm getting that this person feels connected to you spiritually so they feel like they don't have to stalk you because they already know deep down you're doing okay. They just intuitively know that you understand them and care about them just like they do. They also trust that you respect their privacy and need for space, so they're not worried and they just do their own thing in their little bubble. They may even have deleted their apps to avoid risking interacting with you. They just don't want to be distracted and they need the time and space to come back to their senses and to heal. I asked spirit for more details so I drew tarot cards just like I did for the previous groups.

You got 9 of cups, 4 of cups, knight of pentacles, 8 of cups, Star rx, White Numen.

This person is focused on their dreams and their emotional needs. They just felt disconnected from you and they didn't see any reason to keep going knowing that they weren't feeling it. So they pulled their energy back and poured it back into their own cup. This person has a lot of respect for you and is thankful for the time spent with you. However they just feel like they have to go their own way for the time being. They didn't see a purpose in trying to make the connection work when they didn't see anything come out of it. They thought it would be hurting you both for no reason. And this person didn't want to hurt you. Also they felt like there was no hope left for your connection and that they were called somewhere else. I'm also getting that their work is taking a lot of their attention and energy so this person just didn't have space for you in their life.

[keanusbabydoll]

Hey, I saw your latest post about daryl hunting the reader through the woods, and it inspired me to make my own ask. If you have time, would you do a daryl x plussize!reader where she's looking at her outfit and body in the mirror and just, doesn't like what she sees, so daryl fucks her in front of it to prove she's beautiful to him? Feel free to pass on this if you don't like it though.

FUCKIN’ PERFECT GIRL

a/n: i’m deeply sorry for keeping you on wait, love! i hope you like it xxx

paring: daryl dixon x fem!reader

warnings: 18+ content, p in v, unprotected sex, fingering, loads of ‘fucks’, insecure reader, swearing, rough sex, age gap, dom!daryl

wordcount: 2.9k

mdni

₊˚⊹౨ৎ ₊˚⊹ ₊˚⊹౨ৎ ₊˚⊹ ₊˚⊹౨ৎ ₊˚⊹ ₊˚⊹౨ৎ ₊˚⊹ ₊˚⊹౨ৎ ₊˚⊹ ₊˚⊹౨ৎ ₊˚

just yesterday, deanna announced that there will be a party at her house today. to you, it seemed like something out of a fantasy. growing up in the apocalypse, your world had been nothing but survival- days spent on scavenging, hiding and fighting. the idea of music, food and laughter with people you loved in a safe, enclosed space felt foreign.

a few months ago, you found a beautiful short black dress on a hunt and tonight felt like the perfect occasion to wear it.

as daryl headed over to rick’s to discuss something important, you stood in the bathroom, putting on all the make up the girls had collected over some time. tonight you wanted to feel normal, forget about the fact that you were living in a fucked up world. hell, this was the first time you were actually getting ready. finally, as you adjusted your hair for the last time, you got out of the bathroom and went over to your wardrobe to pull out the dress.

a smile played on your lips as you admired it, you were looking forward for daryl to come back. you knew that he would love the idea of you in a short dress. you slid into it, the fabric hugging your curves tightly as you zipped it up. adjusting the hem, you glanced in the mirror and felt your stomach drop. the reflection staring back at you wasn’t what you’d hoped to see. the snugness of the dress emphasized every inch of your body, highlighting areas you always tried to downplay. your belly, your thighs— insecurities you always tried to ignore began to bubble up.

your thoughts wandered off to rosita and maggie, their toned figures and effortless confidence. comparing yourself to them only deepened your doubt. tears blurred your vision as you quickly wiped them away, scolding yourself for letting this thoughts consume you.

the sound of the front door opening and closing snapped you from your spiral. daryl must’ve come back from rick’s. you carefully wiped at your tears, not wanting to ruin your make up and not wanting him to see you like this. moments later, the bedroom door creaked open. “hey, ya ready?” daryl’s gruff voice gave you tingles immediately. you turned toward him, quickly composing yourself. “yeah, i’m ready,” you replied, forcing a smile.

but daryl wasn’t buying it.

his piercing blue eyes studied you, narrowing as he stepped closer. “don’t do that.” he muttered. “do what?” you asked, feigning confusion. “lie to me.” his voice was firm but not harsh. you knew better than lying to him, he knew you like the back of his hand, but you didn’t have the strength to be honest with him. it was eating you up.

you turned back to the mirror, avoiding his gaze. “it’s nothing, daryl. i’m fine.”

he crossed the room in two strides, gripping your chin firmly, turning your face toward him. “don’t look like nothin’ to me.” he said, his voice low, “what’s going on?”

you hesitated, but the weight of your emotions made it impossible to hold back. “it’s just… this dress. i hate how i look. my body’s—“

“stop,” he immediately interrupted, his tone sharp enough to make you flinch. his hands gripped your shoulders, forcing you to meet his intense gaze. “don’t ever talk ‘bout yourself like that. ya hear me?” you opened your mouth to protest, but he didn’t give you the chance. “you’re perfect.” he growled, “every damn inch of you.”

“daryl i—“

“no.” he spun you around to face the mirror. “look,” he commanded, his hands settling on your waist. you shook your head, tears threading to spill again. “i don’t see what you see.” “well, you’re ‘bout to.” he muttered darkly. his hands began to roam over your sides, his calloused fingers tracing the curves of your hips, the dip of your waist. “you think i don’t notice every damn thing ‘bout you?” he asked you, his voice thick with frustration and something deeper. “don’t you see how crazy you make me by just standin’ there?”

you shivered at his words, your breath hitching as his hands moved lower, gripping your thighs possessively. “this?” daryl said, his fingers pressing into the soft flesh. “this drives me fuckin’ wild. every damn part of you does.” your cheeks burned but he wasn’t near done. his lips brushed against your ear as he whispered, “you’re mine. all of this is mine. and i ain’t gonna let you tear yourself apart over something’ so fuckin’ stupid.”

“but daryl—“ you tried to argue, but he silenced you with a sharp tug, pulling you back against his chest. “shut up.” he growled. “gonna show you how beautiful you are.” he guided your hands to the huge mirror, pressing them flat against the against the glass. “look at yourself,” he ordered. “look at how good you look it that dress. look at how much i want you.” your eyes flickered to the mirror, catching his reflection. his intense gaze bore into yours as his hands roamed your body, sliding over the fabric of the dress like it was the most precious piece ging he’d ever touched.

“daryl…” you breathed, your voice trembling. sparks ignited everywhere you felt his touch, heading straight to your core. “you’re mine.” he repeated, his voice a low rasp. “and i ain’t gonna let you doubt that again.” his hand slipped beneath the them of your dress, his fingers brushing against the bare skin of your hips. with his other hand he pressed your ass further into him. you gasped, feeling his fully erect cock pressing directly against you as your eyes locked with his in the mirror. “see what you do to me?” he murmured, his lips slowly trailing along your neck.

you leaned into his touch, letting him take in your whole body. he slowly hitched your dress up, letting it rest just above your panties. your eyes followed his movements through the mirror, breath stocking when he abruptly pulled your thong all the way down. you immediately stepped out of it, pushing it aside. daryl continued to nip at your flesh as he softly let his fingers glide over your pussy, grazing your clit. he almost lost it when he felt your wetness on the tip of his fingers, knowing too damn well how much control he had over you.

“so wet for me.” he growled, biting down on your bare shoulder. two of his digits teased at your entrance, collecting your slick while running them up and down. “please.” your plea sent tingles straight to his cock— he always loved it when you begged him.

then, daryl easily slipped one finger inside your hot walls, immediately adding a second one. your head flew back against his chest at the feeling, a quiet moan escaping your lips. he immediately curled his fingers upward, pressing firmly against your g-spot. “feel good?” he asked, not moving a single muscle.

“yess, please daryl.” you whined out, needing him to finally stimulate you. a dark chuckle rang through your ears as he began to pump his fingers in and out of your cunt, your knees twitching at the sudden pleasure. “oh my god.” you cried, making him speed up his thrusts. “look at yourself.” he snarled as his free hand pushed your head forward again. you immediately opened your eyes and stared back at your reflection. again, they fell down to his hand, a moan leaving your lips as you saw how hard he finger-fucked you.

the wet, squelching sounds your pussy made, made it even harder for daryl to control himself. but your pleasure was his first priority. he pressed his cock harder into your ass, trying to gain any friction as he growled into your neck. your gaze wandered up to him and when you found him already staring at you, shivers erupted over your whole body. oh, how much you needed his thick cock to fill you up and fuck your brains out. he never failed to get you aroused or stupid for his cock.

“you’re so fuckin’ hot, baby.” daryl said as he pulled his fingers out of you, eliciting a whine from you. he brought his digits to his mouth, licking them clean, a hum escaping his lips at your sweet taste. “need you, daryl.” you whimpered, your eyes pleading him as well.

that was all he needed to hear. his good little girl was gonna get exactly what she wanted. and he was going to make sure that you would never even get the idea to think that your body isn’t perfect.

he hastily opened his belt and pulled his pants down along with his boxers. you turn your head, looking over your shoulder to see his painfully hard cock finally freed, his redend tip was covered in pre-cum. your core began to ache even more, your mouth watering at his sight.

“‘m gonna make you feel so good, princess.” he purred as he pushed your legs apart and stepping right behind you. his hand gently spread one of your ass cheeks, his eyes darkening at the view of your slick hole desperately clenching around nothing. with his other hand he guided his top to your entrance, getting his tip wet. he held intense eye contact with you as he slowly pushed in, your wetness making it easy for him.

a sharp hiss fell from your lips, his cock splitting you in two sent tingles through your whole body. with a rough thrust, daryl plunged his whole length inside of you, his tip kissing your cervix. you would never get used to his size, every time you guys fucked it felt like your first time. daryl gripped your hips tightly with one hand while his other one reached around your middle, rubbing your clit in slow circles.

as soon as the first moan rang through his ears, he began to move his hips in a steady pace, the sharp sound of skin clapping together erupting in the room. your hands immediately gripped the sides of the mirror harder, your eyes shutting close.

“my fuckin’ pretty baby,” he growled directly into your ear, speeding his fingers on your clit up,“open your eyes and look at how perfect you are.”

your eyes immediately snapped open and you stared at your reflection, daryl fucking you roughly from behind while stimulating your clit. the way he admired your whole form made you almost orgasm at the sight of it. he possessively gripped your waist, signing you that your body was the most perfect one he’d ever laid his eyes on.

“you’re fuckin’ perfect,” he grunted, pressing open- mouthed kisses along your shoulders. “say it, doll. tell me how pretty you are.”

your mind was too preoccupied by his rough pounds and expert fingers which sent you straight to heaven. but the thought of your body, made you uneasy again. but daryl didn’t like that. “daryl- i can’t—“

in a flash his hand, which was previously set on your waist, was now wrapped tightly around your throat. you gasped out, a strangled whine leaving your lips.”yeah, you can. ain’t stoppin’ to fuck you till you say it.” daryl commanded darkly, his voice low and intimidating, his grip just getting tighter and tighter and his thrusts were getting more and more aggressively with every second you didn’t answer him.

“i-i’m perfect.” you managed to squeak out, caught between pleasure and self contentiousness. “louder.” daryl mumbled against your neck. “i’m perfect.” you repeated, this time with more conviction.

“and?” he prompted, his pounds getting harsher.

“and i’m— i’m pretty.” you squealed, feeling your orgasm slowly approach. “damn right, you are.” he stated, giving you a kiss on your cheek, his grip on your throat loosening. he could feel your walls clamping down on him, squeezing his cock deliciously. your legs began to tremble and your arms threatened to give out. daryl pushed your hips further back, arching your back a little bit— only for him to hit the special spot deep inside of you that made you orgasm in seconds. “fuck, daryl! don’t stop!” you swear you could feel him in your guts, a beautiful mix of pain and intense pleasure.

your cheeks were coated with tears as you felt your brain fog up in the most blessing way. “you gonna cum?” you nodded your head rapidly, your eyes fixated on yourself through the mirror. your make up was a mess and your body was wrecking beneath him. “cum on my cock, baby.” he continued to pound into you, his pace never relenting, chasing his own release.

he let go of your throat and turned your face to the side, capturing your lips in a messy kiss. muffled and high pitched cries tore from your throat as you were at the verge of cumming, desperately craving your release. daryl was close himself, the feeling of your velvety, slippery walls, making his dick twitch. then, with a last flick of his fingers, your coil snapped and a loud moan passed your lips as your walls spasmed around his cock rapidly.

the feeling of it sent daryl straight over the edge, a deep grunt echoing off the walls as he spilled every last drop of his seed deep inside of you. your head fell forward exhaustedly, your chest heaving intensely as you tried to calm down from your high. daryl’s thrusts slowed down and his fingers on your clit removed.

when the last wave of his and your orgasmed crashed through you, he stopped his movements, taking a deep breath. “good girl.” he whispered in your ear, his hot breath fanning against your skin. his hands caressed your hips as he carefully pulled out of you, a silent whine passing your lips.

“ain’t gonna ever let you leave this room if i hear somethin’ stupid like that again.” he told you with a firm voice but with a hint of gentleness, referring to what you had said about yourself earlier. “am i clear?”

“yes, daryl.” you mumbled between shallow breaths. “my fuckin’ perfect girl.” he smirked as he helped you adjust your dress and kissed your lips lovingly once again.

daryl would make sure that you would never ever doubt yourself again. to him, no one in this fucked up world would have had a chance to change his mind about you and your pretty little body.

requests are opened<3

[genderqueerdykes]

I’m a butch who can’t wear pants because I am extremely autistic and they are sensory HELL. Like socks but so so so much worse cause it’s half your fucking body. Anyways, thank you for saying to stop enforcing ridgid lines around butch! I am butch, masc whatever, I’m just kinda a fairy about it and for disability reasons that includes a skirt or dresses. I don’t give a fuck that I don’t “read” or “flag” correctly. I don’t define masculinity that narrowly and queer people who do haven’t let themselves truly be freed by how expansive queer really can be! (Though I do hope the flagging gets a little better once I start T. A cis gay man at work implied I was gender conforming and I almost cried right there and then.)

i think people suddenly willingly forget that clothing isn't gendered when it comes to butches in specific. people will say "oh men can wear skirts and they're still men" but then they turn around and misgender and mistreat butches who don't wear jeans, t shirts, button up shirts and carabiners. people run butches through the toxic masculinity meat grinder. it's genuinely disturbing to see how many people willingly apply toxic masculinity to butches when none of us want this. why do butches HAVE to dress a certain way or else they're not butch?

why are we so rigid when it comes to butch masculinity in specific? what, butches have to conform to toxic masculinity or else they're not 'real' butches? really? butches? this is exactly what we do to cishet men!

we give cis men more flexibility than we give butches, for christ's sake! what, does it absolutely kill some people to think that they'll "flag" as 2 femme lesbians, or 2 friends who are girls? are people that uptight that they have to be presenting their partner as Their Butch all the time? i swear people proudly dehumanize butches and turn us into trophy partners and sex toys and literally don't care about how we feel, how we identify, or what we want to do with our lives. people inside of the lesbian community are literally the absolute worst about dehumanizing butches. we're sex toys that have to always look hot and strong. we always have to swoop in to solve everyone's problems. we have to do literally everything for femmes. this is cisheteronormative toxic masculinity, y'all. wake up, the bubble just burst

anyway i'm really glad i could help with that! the butch is in the person, not the clothing. you don't have to dress a certain way. butches are allowed to define what butchhood looks like for them. a butch isn't a skirt isn't suddenly a femme. there's way more variation and room for expression than that, come on. stop re-enforcing the binary! let butches break the boundaries of the binary you've forced us into!

[its-avalon-08]

Hiiiii!! Can I request a daniel ricciardo x driver! reader? Like a grumpy! reader x sunshine! danny? with a hint of friends to lovers but the grid doesn’t know?

I was so excited to see someone open their request and can’t wait to read everythinggggg! Super grateful for the opportunity🫶 may you have a great time writing<3

Ps. It’s totally okay if this doesn’t get a response, I still look forward reading your other works ❤️

she's my grump

the monaco grand prix was always a whirlwind. the air crackled with champagne and exhaust fumes, celebrities swarmed the paddock, and for danny ricciardo, it was pure electric. but amidst the chaos, his gaze always landed on you, his secret weapon – literally and figuratively.

you, (y/n) (l/n), were the engineer who made his car a sleek, purring beast. you were also the complete opposite of him. where danny was sunshine personified, you were a sly smile and a dry wit, a black cat in a room full of golden retrievers. being slightly reserved whilst dating the man with the biggest smile would seem odd to others, but danny loved you in all your light.

"alright team!" danny boomed, his energy radiating as he clapped his hands. "let's make monaco ours!"

you, in redbull uniform, raised an eyebrow. "more coffee, sunshine?" you deadpanned, handing him a steaming mug.

he grinned, taking a swig. "thanks, (y/n). you're a lifesaver." he winked, then lowered his voice conspiratorially, "just remember, if we win, that victory shoey is all yours."

you snorted, a small sound that always tickled danny's heart. "just don't splash champagne on me and make sure you don't scratch the car."

he chuckled, leaning closer. "don't worry, love. i wouldn't dream of it." the last word was barely a whisper, sending a shiver down your spine. you were dating for a few months now, a secret you both fiercely guarded. it wasn't because you were ashamed, rather it was to protect both of your personal lives. you had been friends for seven years and dating for one year. all the other drivers loved you and saw you as a little sister. being the polar opposite of daniel, everyone thought you were a match made in heaven.

flashback

the cityscape of singapore twinkled below, a kaleidoscope of neon against the inky night. danny, relaxed after a podium finish, leaned against the balcony railing, a beer balanced precariously in his hand. you perched on a nearby chair, fiddling with a stray napkin. six years of friendship, countless late-night talks, and a simmering desire that threatened to boil over. tonight, you were determined to make a move.

"crazy race, right?" you started, your voice barely above a whisper. you hated how nervous you felt around him, a stark contrast to your usual sharp wit.

danny chuckled, the sound warm and inviting. "yeah, those final laps were a heart-stopper. but hey, at least i didn't get sandwiched between bottas and verstappen this time."

you managed a smile. "true. though, witnessing your car-handling skills under pressure is always a treat for the eyes." a teasing lilt crept into your voice, the one that usually made him laugh. but tonight, he just raised an eyebrow, his gaze holding yours.

"so," you continued, feeling a familiar heat creep up your cheeks, "about that victory dinner tomorrow night..."

"yeah?" he prompted, taking a swig of his beer.

"well, i was thinking, maybe we could..." you trailed off, the carefully rehearsed words dissolving on your tongue. frustration bubbled within you. why was this so hard?

"maybe we could what?" danny asked gently, his voice laced with a hint of concern.

you squeezed the napkin in your hand, the flimsy paper threatening to tear. "forget it. it's stupid."

"hey," danny said, setting his beer down and turning to face you fully. his eyes, usually sparkling with mischief, were now soft and serious. "nothing you say is stupid, (y/n)."

you looked away, overwhelmed by the intensity of his gaze. "except maybe what i was about to say."

a beat of silence stretched between you, thick with unspoken emotions. you felt a tear prick your eye, the frustration morphing into a strange mix of despair and defiance.

"look, danny," you blurted out, your voice shaky, "we've been friends for, what, six years now? we practically share a brain when it comes to the car. but lately... lately, things feel different."

he stepped closer, his presence a tangible warmth in the cool night air. "different how?"

you took a shaky breath. "i don't know how to say this. it's stupid, really. but..." you met his gaze, your voice barely audible, "i think i might be falling for you."

the words hung heavy in the air. a flicker of surprise crossed danny's face, then a slow smile spread across his lips. it was the most beautiful thing you'd ever seen.

"you think?" he said, his voice a husky whisper. he cupped your face in his hand, his thumb gently brushing away the stray tear that escaped your eye.

"maybe," you mumbled, your heart pounding a frantic rhythm against your ribs.

before you could say anything else, danny closed the gap between you. his kiss was soft, tentative at first, then deepened with a newfound urgency. it was a kiss filled with unspoken desires, a culmination of years of unspoken feelings. you melted into him, the familiar warmth of his friendship now tinged with a passionate intensity that left you breathless.

when he finally pulled away, his forehead resting against yours, you could hear the ragged rhythm of his breath.

"i think i might be falling for you too, (y/n)," he murmured, his voice husky with emotion. "a lot more than maybe."

a laugh, shaky but genuine, escaped your lips. relief washed over you, mingled with a newfound sense of joy. in the neon glow of singapore night, under the watchful gaze of a million twinkling stars, you knew this was just the beginning of something extraordinary.

end of flashback

the qualifying session was a nail-biter. you watched from the pit wall, your fingers unconsciously tapping a rhythm against the table. danny caught your eye, flashed a reassuring smile, and then was off, a blur of blue and red. when he secured pole position, the team erupted.

in the celebratory chaos, danny spotted you amidst the throng, a lone island of calm amidst the cheering. he weaved his way through the crowd, his eyes fixed on you. reaching you, he bent down slightly, a playful glint in his eyes.

"ready to celebrate, ms. genius ?" he asked, extending his hand.

you smirked, a playful jab back. "only if it involves avoiding exuberant displays of footwear."

he laughed, a sound that always warmed your heart. "no promises, love," he winked, then surprised you. his hand, instead of taking yours, brushed yours lightly, his pinky extending out and interlocking with yours.

you knew what it meant. a silent exchange in your secret language. a small gesture, easily missed by others, but to you, it was a secret handshake, a whispered affirmation in the middle of the storm. your own pinky curled around his, a silent promise. being a black cat dating the biggest golden retriever

the race was a heart-stopper. strategy calls crackled through your earpiece, fueling your anxiety. finally, the checkered flag fell, and danny emerged victorious. the roar of the crowd was deafening.

as danny jumped out of the car, his helmet still on, he scanned the crowd. his eyes met yours, and a wide grin split his face. he sprinted towards you, the cameras flashing around you. but he ignored them all, reaching you and scooping you into a tight hug.

"we did it, (y/n)!" he shouted, his voice muffled by your silky hair.

you hugged him back tightly, a surge of relief and pride washing over you. in that moment, under the watchful eyes of the oblivious crowd, you knew your secret weapon wasn't just the science behind the car. it was the sunshine-haired driver with whom you shared a silent language, a pinky promise, and a love that thrived even in the whirlwind of monaco.

the other drivers, who had long suspected something between you two, exchanged knowing glances. lewis hamilton raised a knowing eyebrow at max verstappen. "looks like ricciardo found his lucky charm," he remarked.

max just grinned. "more like his secret weapon."

🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️

i hope you enjoyed! happy reading <3 do send in more requests! as for pre existing requests- im working on it! lots of love ava

🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️

[wriothesleysgf]

pretty boy. — gojo satoru

notes: some domestic gojo, because god knows everyone needs it today.

content: no angst, here we just reject canon and embrace fluff. implied non!sorcerer reader, but can be read either way. established relationship. not proofread. this post is leak/spoiler free! this song is the vibe i was going for, if anyone is interested.

"honey, i'm home!"

the familiar, ever-joyous tone of one gojo satoru rang through the apartment; it was always the highlight of your day. you, however, didn't respond. it concerned him a little, to be honest, but as soon as he heard the sounds of soft music echoing from the kitchen, he knew just where to find you.

you were too busy gently swaying to whichever song the radio station was playing to notice gojo. so, like any adoring boyfriend would, he leaned against the doorframe and watched.

he never thought he'd be lucky enough to have a love like you. with his position in the world of sorcery, and the prestige that his name carried, gojo always thought he'd be alone. hell, he was absolutely petrified of catching feelings for somebody, since there would likely be people willing to hurt the people that he loved in order to get to him. rationally, he knew he could defeat them, but the thought always lingered.

thus, he was incredibly grateful for peaceful moments like this. moments where he could forget that he was the honoured one, and feel like all he is is yours— because that's all he desires anymore.

gojo knocks on the doorframe, not wishing to startle you as you cook. you jumped a little, but immediately settled the very second you saw those blue eyes and messy white locks. he looked so effortlessly attractive, even after a full day's work.

without even saying a word, he saunters over to you and wraps his arms around your waist. his chin rests on the top of your head, and he continues to sway you to the rhythm. as he hums softly, you recognize that he's probably had a difficult day. it's not like him to be so quiet.

you relax under his touch and let him hold you, knowing he needs it right now. "i love you," he mumbles. each words is sincere with him. the tone is more sombre than usual, almost like you'd have expected the words to come from nanami instead.

you get to a point that you can leave the food alone for a moment as it cooks, and turn around to face gojo. his arms remain around you, but you can see his face more clearly now. he's exhausted, and trying to mask that. you move a few stray hairs out of his face, carressing his cheek. "i love you too," you finally reply.

the returned sentiment puts a smile on his face. it's not the regular, goofy grin he displays around others. it's something more real, and it makes you feel like you're one of the few people that gojo really lets in on how he's feeling. if anything, you quite literally are, as his infinity was lowered the second that he stepped into the threshold of your apartment.

since your guard is so far down, gojo begins to move you with ease. he guides your body around the kitchen, causing the pair of you to fall into a rather messy slow dance of sorts. both are content, at peace in each others' arms. there's a blissful silence, a rarity for the gojo household, where nothing but the calming music fills the air.

the two of you remain in this little, serendipitous bubble for a while. the only thing that pops it is when the food on the stove makes a concerning noise, and you notice that you were so caught up that it began to burn.

"shit!" you squeal, leaping out of gojo's arms to try to salvage your meal. he just chuckles, finding your hectic movements amusing.

"baby, don't worry about it," he says, smiling as he pulls out his phone. "i'm ordering in, we can deal with this mess tomorrow,"

gojo then moves closer to you, wrapping you up in his arms so that you can't escape with ease. he waddles backwards towards the living room, not stopping until you're both plopped down on the couch (of course he's on top of you, pinning you down yet somehow not suffocating you with the mess of long limbs that he is).

he flicks on the screen, which is showing some older and kind-of sappy romcom, and presses a few buttons to order your food. the night ends with the coffee table littered in takeout boxes and some movie still playing— you weren't sure what, as you had both fallen asleep in each other's embrace long ago.

[vividraft]

not meant to be said...

⇢ ˗ˏˋ gn!reader x diluc, kaeya, kazuha (seperate)

⇢ ˗ˏˋ summary: during an argument, the genshin men say things which they don't mean. can they make it up to you?

⇢ ˗ˏˋ important notes: this is a repost from my old account (@/rainstops)

⇢ ˗ˏˋ a/n: reformatting posts is so raaaa

old post masterlist tba !

Arguments with diluc weren’t entirely unusual, but he usually tried his best to stay calm. Emphasis on ‘tried’, and absolutely failed. Words were going back and forth, a bubbling feeling of anger resting in your chest, fist clenched and trying to get diluc to listen to you.

But it wasn’t possible. Both of you were trying to be louder than the other. To make more sense, and to get anything out that might help to win the argument. but it almost seemed as if neither one of you still wanted to win. you never even wanted to argue, but now you can’t loose.

Your words overtoned his, and the other way around. As if neither of you could hear the other, both of you just kept screaming.

You didn’t listen until diluc said something he wish he never even thought off. to be honest he didn’t even really think.

“you’re so worthless. I don’t know why i even put up with you. All you do is nag me all day, why can’t you just-“, that was when he realised he didn’t want to say any of the things he just said.. you’re not worthless, you’re his everything. He doesn’t ‘put up with you’, he needs you. He doesn’t know what he would do without you. In that moment he forgot why you two were even fighting. He realises he never even knew why. You’re way to important for him to shout at you. He loves you more than his own life, but he expressed the opposite.

Now he notices how you stopped talking. You’re staring at him wide-eyed, obviously in shock. A weird feeling spread within your body, like someone had tied your heart to the pit of your stomach. Your fists unclenched and your body felt so loose, you wanted to go lay down and sleep.

Diluc on the other hand wanted to wash his own mouth out with soap. The words that balled through your mind felt like acid on his tongue.

“my love-“

”how could you call me that right now”, you asked him.

Diluc stayed quiet for a little while too long, and to you it felt like he didn’t want to say anything else. It felt like a cue to leave to you. So you decided it would be best, knowing that in the time that diluc could think of an apology, those words would settle in your mind for a long while.

You wanted to step out of the door, but diluc grabbed your hand. You looked at the way his hand grabbed yours, and then gave him an irritated stare. You looked him into the eyes, but only a split second was needed to notice how glossy his eyes were. His brows were furrowed and his lips pressed into a thin line.

Forgetting what he just said to you, you remembered how much you loved him. you loved him, you would never want him to cry.

“My love please listen to me, i didn’t mean to say what i said. I love you. Please don’t leave. I need you i can’t live without you please. I will take as much time it needs to make it up to you again, i just need you to stay, please. I love you, i love you so much”, he kept repeating three words which were so very important to you.

“It’s okay… please don’t cry”, you said those words knowing it wasn’t okay. You were really hurt, but you couldn’t stand seeing him cry.

Arguing with Kaeya wasn’t fun. and it was always the same topic. He was drunk and came home late again and again.

“Kaeya, you have a drinking problem. You-“

“I do not have a drinking problem. I drink because I want too”

Neither of you were shouting. The anger in your chest felt like a fire in your chest. And the fact that he was still drunk, felt for you like just something proving your point.

“I am so fucking tired, of picking your drunk ass up from the bar, or cooking for you in the evening knowing you won’t eat it anyways, or staying up late worrying because i don’t know if you’re safe or not!”,, youe tears were collecting at the corner of your eyes, but Kaeya didn’t care. He probably didn’t even notice.

“Then don’t do these things! God you’re so pushy and annoying. I don’t even care about all the things you do! Just leave me alone and let me do whatever the hell i want!”, the words hit you like a knife. Tears were starting to run down your cheeks, but Kaeya was still too drunk to notice or care. He turned around and walked off to your shared bedroom.

You weren’t going to stay here though. You packed some things and went to stay somewhere. Anywhere else where people actually care about you.

Kaeya woke up the next day, with a headache. He turned around to your side of the bed to wish you a good morning, but that was when he noticed that your side of the bed was made, and cold. He got up wondering where you were. When he entered the living room, he noticed how the house felt cold. It felt empty without you.

That was when he remembered the argument from last night. He remembers the things he said to you. And without a question he regretted it. He regretted every word he said to you. Where have you gone? Where could you be? He needed to apologise. Wether you would forgive him or not.

He slowly sat down on the sofa in the living room, his face sinking into his palms. Think Kaeya think.

That was when the lock in the door clicked. He jumped up from the sofa and turned to face the door. It was you. You entered the house with your back to Kaeya.

You walked past Kaeya without sparing him a singular look.

“Babe-”, he grabbed your arm.

“Babe look at me”, he nearly begged you.

When you turned to face him, his heart dropped. Your eyes looked tired. They were empty and and red. You clearly cried a lot.

“Let go”, you pulled your arm away from his hand and continued to walk towards your shared bedroom. You were only here to get some more clothes.

“[name], please talk to me”

Kaeya grabbed you by the waist again.

“Kaeya stop it”, he wasn’t going to. He wrapped his arms around you, putting your head against his chest and let his head fall onto your shoulder.

“I’m sorry for what i said. I didn’t mean any of it. I love you. I need you, please don’t be mad at me”, he begged you.

All you could reply with was a look with tired eyes.

“Please. I know you’re tired. Tired of me and tired of doing things for me, but…”, he stopped. Your arms were hanging loosely by your sides.

He put a hand on the back of your head and pressed it closer onto his chest.

“Please I will do anything it needs to. No matter how long it takes. You don’t have to take care of me anymore, i will take care of you. I will make it up to you no matter what”, he promised. 

“Just stay with me”

Kazuhas brows were furrowed. His eyes were raging whenever he looked at you. You were just trying to help him moving a few objects around, but accidentally dropped one of his belongings and damaged it slightly. nothing that could not be fixed.

You could blame all the things he said on stress he experienced lately, which you can understand, but you wish you could say that you understand what he said to you as well.

"[name] seriously couldnt you have been a little more careful? is that too much to ask?", Kazuha wasnt raising his voice at all, but the expression on his face already said more than enough.

"seriously i never asked you for your help, and then for you to come over her and just break something?", Kazuha picked up the object and placed it on a nearby table.

You apologized over and over again, but Kazuha didnt seem to listen. He just kept continuing what he was doing, not giving you a single look or reply.

You try to continue helping him, but he pushes you away. 

"stop it. i dont want you to break anything again"

"Kazuha, I just want to help you-"

Kazuha proceeded to cut you off with something he was sure to regret for a very long time.

"[name] don't you see? youre useless. all the time you just make everything worse!"

the words fell out of him like a waterfall. once he started he couldnt stop them. and oh he wished, he wished he would have just forgotten about the item you damaged and moved on with his life.

he put a hand over his mouth as if trying to stop doing more damage than he had already done.

"[name], i- im sorry i dont know why i said that [name]", he kept saying your name more frantically with each time it left his mouth. 

"[name]", there it was again. he took your hands, and as your shocked eyes filled with tears, his filled with panic.

thoughts filled your head that you didnt want to hear, and before kazuha could say anything else to you, you left the room and quietly shut the door behind you.

kazuha put down whatever he was doing, as soon as he heard the soft click of the door to the room you both were standing in.

the words he said kept repeating in his head. how could he say something that implies that he puts a mere object over your relationship.

he heard the door to your room shut, meaning that that is where you weant. 

he stood in front of your door, not just wanting to barge in after you. so he knocked. 

"[name] im really sorry, please come out", no response. 

"can i enter? please?", again no response. so kazuha just entered. 

he looked around and found you sitting against the wall, tears silently streaming down your face. 

kazuha hugged you without a word, but you showed no reaction.

"[name] im sorry, i never should have said those things. i guess i was just stressed, but that is still no excuse. i hope you can forgive me?"

a quiet sob escaped your mouth, and instead of answering you laid your head down onto his shoulder.