#what a tell tale on the state of your relationship

[fuji-sen]

Monachopsis; SAGAU Creator!Reader Headcanon

Monachopsis: the subtle feeling of being out of place.

c/w: angst, homesickness, slight cult genshin impact characters.

synopsis: The adrenaline and excitement had worn off, what replaced it was a sense of detachment and the feeling of homesick-ness slowly building up. No longer feeling joy at being treated like a God in your favorite game, you could only feel that subtle but persistent feeling that you did not belong there coupled with the sadness and grief at your past life.

divider credits: @enchanthings

✨ you wonder how things became like this, perhaps it was because you were constantly detained and kept inside a lavish palace, unable to see the outside world.

✨ or perhaps it was how your acolytes treat you.

✨ they did not harm you, but they might as well have all together.

✨ they treat you so full of devotion and reverence. Their touches stiff and light never holding you for longer than it is necessary, their manner of speech was always formal, never jovial even the bard of Mondstadt had a more serious and deep persona when it came to you.

✨ although their goal was simply to respect you for you were their supposed Creator, that very devotion towards you became the very wall that separated you from them.

✨ you could not get close to them, you could not pass that damned relationship between a Creator and a faithful believer.

✨ Furina had been closed to you at least, perhaps because she understood your plights. However your relationship seemed sinful in the eyes of the other acolyte.

✨ you no longer were able to see the cheerful girl.

✨ Buer or Nahida who's ability to read minds and the hearts of people worked on you, but it seemed she had learned from Fontaine's leader, she did not get close to you, however she left more sincere gifts for you.

✨ handwritten letters, books with annotations, even Aranara's were given to you on the guise of being servants.

✨ speaking of gifts, wealth, gems, lavish furniture, clothes made from the rarest fur and the softest silk had been presented to you. At first it made you overjoyed, to received the things you had long for, to become rich and wealthy.

✨ now seeing the pile of untouched presents all you could feel was cold, it was impersonal really. The clothes did not suit you, the gems and gold were useless for you could not even go out to spend it, the furniture as well for it was too big for you to used by yourself and you lacked the friends to even sit together with and have a chat.

✨ however upon seeing your favor towards the dendro archon's gifts, they tried to follow in suit. Yet their letters were simply filled with compliments of your visage, poems and tales about how great you were, talking about you as if you were a historical person they had studied and were doing a greatly embellished report on but never truly getting to know you.

✨ to fight off the feeling of sadness that began to wallow in you, you asked for them, desperately, "treat me as your friend, if you truly love me as your God then treat me how I want to be treated." you'd say.

✨ they looked at each other, before carefully and hesitantly agreeing.

✨ now you felt guilty, they spend their times on you. Chatting with you, telling you stories.

✨ you feast together, with food made by Xiangling and other characters.

✨ but even as they surround you, their conversations became white noise to you and the food seemed tasteless under your tongue.

✨ you did not feel like you belong among them. especially with that nagging voice in your head, snickering and whispering that 'they aren't your friends, they're just acting like it all because their precious Creator begged them to.'

✨ In the past, or your past life, doing something for yourself, by yourself seemed like a chore. The mundane chores, your job, studying even, but now that seemed like a luxury with the title of God.

✨ they did not ask you to do anything, you did not participate in state of the nation addresses, you could not change laws or fight for the people. . at least they didn't let you.

✨ you could not even clean your own room or dress yourself, Noelle took care of the cleaning, Chiori took care with choosing a set of clothes each day for you to wear like you were a kid and Xiangling did the cooking.

✨ It left you with nothing to do, like you had no purpose other than sitting still and looking pretty like a piece of decoration.

✨ Nobody disagreed with you even, nobody argued with you, they were like yes-men. God you began to miss your parents and siblings, you missed your classmates/coworkers, you missed working, you missed being your own person!

✨ it was beginning to eat you up at this point,

✨ to the point you had became overwhelmed with sadness.

might make a mini-headcanon series for this or an actual series revolving around this idea/angst.

do you want a series like this tho? it'd be heavily angst and might just have a bad ending or good ending.

[impactrueno]

some stuff about lydia's jacket in Beetlejuice Beetlejuice. hope you guys are ready for another thinkpiece no one asked for:

right so. colleen atwood decided to give lydia (and rory) these garments that seemed so unfinished it was distracting me. but i know there's a reason for every costume choice, so i watched this super short rundown she gave about a few of the outfits in one of the promotional videos for the movie, but i was disappointed that she didn't say anything about this one. i knew i had to draw it at some point so i really needed to know what it's supposed to be. a friend who went to the Afterlife Experience prop exhibition even took photos of the damn thing up close at my request, just so i could take a closer look and see if i could figure it out. but nothing. i didn't know how to draw it and it was driving me insane. i felt stupid. like what am i missing here

months later here i am, browsing pinterest for my beetlejuice inspo boards and i randomly find it and others like it:

and this is how i learned that these were created by british designer elena dawson. the way this article described this style made everything make sense:

Her Victorian frocks with unfinished seams and hanging fabric strips speak of ghostly things, simultaneously ephemeral and imprinted with history, the stuff of Tim Burton and Helena Bonham Carter, a witchy presence in the world that no longer cares for fairy tales.

more:

Maybe it is this ghostly presence that informs Dawson’s work, which reflects her fascination with death. “The relation between clothing, ritual, and death is of great interest to me,” says she. “In some respects, through clothing I am also working through my relationship to death.”

and the way she described it herself:

“When you work on alterations you are really tearing the guts out of the garment, performing a sort of autopsy—you really get to see a garment at its most vulnerable point. Observing this state of semi deconstruction in the making of a garment or shoe is what I like to retain in my finished work.“

oh my god.

the clothes are lydia. they are purposefully incomplete.

lydia's whole deal in the movie was that she was messed up from of all the shit she's been through to the point where she's no longer herself. the events in her life have been slowly picking the threads of what kept her together, what makes her her. delia has this great line that basically sums up lydia's pathos in the movie: "you need to take back your life from those hanger-onners, from this thing," meaning rory and beetlejuice. "where's the obnoxious little goth girl who tormented me all those years ago? it's time to find her."

i'd wager they made rory wear the same style of deconstructed jacket for the funeral specifically because he was trying to come off like this was a tragedy to him just as much, that he's "vulnerable" like the deetz women right now. you know, his whole modus operandi and all (unnecessarily large handkerchief included.) interestingly enough, lydia does NOT wear the loose thread jacket that would match rory's coat here. her own outfit is still by the same designer though, so it's like...they match, but also don't. they're in a relationship, but don't fit together.

according to interviews, using elena dawson designs was winona ryder and justin theroux's idea that they brought up to colleen atwood, and can i just say that i love how much input they had on their characters? justin in particular had SO much fun playing rory, his interviews are great. he owned the role. he knows a lot about fashion, so he was the first one to suggest this look and vibe for him.

as for winona, she wore dawson herself multiple times during the promotional tour for the movie. like, this is just her actual wardrobe. you can tell she had fun trying to emulate lydia's bangs and ponytail with these fits too.

i don't know much about fashion, honestly. but i love character design and telling a story through a character's clothes. so obviously i'm nerding out about this hardcore. perhaps i should learn more about fashion so i can do cool stuff like this too.

[godnectar]

Yandere himbo? >:)

・✶ ｡ﾟ𝐘𝐀𝐍𝐃𝐄𝐑𝐄 𝐇𝐈𝐌𝐁𝐎 ;

cw: toxic behavior, bae's hot, oblivious and delusional asf, kinda manipulative, jealousy, violence, guilt tripping,,,, justifications + probably a big ass etc. ( inbox )

𖣠 YANDERE HIMBO who possesses a genuinely warm and friendly demeanor that, along with his looks, easily draws people to him. the pure, charming, and easygoing smile he usually wears making it extremely hard for others to suspect anything about his hidden, darker tendencies — reason why you didn't really made a big deal out of his sudden but innocent looking crush towards you and just felt flattered.

𖣠 YANDERE HIMBO whose loyalty absolutely knows no bounds once you two got together after countless of sweet, sincere compliments, some appealing winks, and a few wholesome dates. he's hopelessly devoted to you, willing to go to extreme lengths to ensure his darling's happiness and safety twenty-four seven.

𖣠 YANDERE HIMBO who's cheerful facade is fast to crumble the next second he perceives someone as a threat to your lovely, fairy tale looking relationship, no matter if it's because of one of your friends getting to touchy or just one of your relatives making a disapproving comment about your choice of a partner. even though, he's also quick to apologize whenever you get mad as the familiar, beefy arms that hold you at night get covered with scratches after he holds your acquaintances in a chokehold deep inside an alley hours prior. unsurprisingly, guilt overcomes you as soon as you glance at his pouty lips and furrowed eyebrows, pained by your anger over his instinctive jealousy.

𖣠 YANDERE HIMBO who as much as he lacks intelligence, probably also lacks comprehension for his actions' severity most of the time, leading him to justify some disturbing things such as his hostility, surveillance and obsessive keepsakes by saying it all comes from his undying love towards you, the light of his eyes.

𖣠 YANDERE HIMBO who genuinely thinks there's nothing wrong with what he does. sure, he might not be the brightest bulb in the box, nor the man with the healthiest mental state you'll meet — the latter being pretty noticeable, especially when you catch on the fearful stares some people send among all the praising others unawarely give — but at least he's trying his best at showing you that his... heart throbs only for his sweetling, right?

𖣠 YANDERE HIMBO who desires with all his heart for you to be as head over heels for him as he is for you, never giving up on trying to make you let down all of your guards to share his innermost yearns, fantasizing about an intense, exclusive and unique connection between you two where both seek to become the other's one and only.

"tell me how much you love me, my dear. need to hear you saying there's absolutely no one in your heart but me."

© godnectar 2023. please do not modify, translate, or repost my works on any platform without my permission.

[yanderenightmare]

...part two where alpha bakugou finally tries to court reader after a few years of possessively scenting her and walks in on her in her first hear

Bakugou Katsuki

TW: omegaverse, possessiveness, awkward relationship

part 1

gn reader

He’s trying to figure out how to get you to move in with him. 

He’s done at UA now, receiving steady work and paychecks. His apartment is nice, in a good and practical location. Everything is stable. Everything’s in place.

Everything except you.

He knows he hasn’t been the most reasonable mate throughout the years. His confession was nothing short of a threat – forcing you to wear his clothes so others would know you were taken. 

But he did those things to protect you, to keep you safe – which is his duty as an Alpha. He's done his side of the courtship.

In all honesty, you’re the one who’s unreasonable – you’re the one not doing your job. 

He’s not blind to see how doting other Omegas are towards their Alphas.

You don’t dote on him – never kissy or cuddly or lovey-dovey – at best, you’re passive with an inclination to be agreeable.

How’s he supposed to make any sort of moves on you when you don’t give him any signals? At this rate, the two of you will be left in a platonic state of… not friendship or kinship… just plain awkwardness – a stalemate.

It’s embarrassing… the two of you haven't even consummated your bond yet. In fact, and even more embarrassing – you haven't even kissed.

You may very well not even be mates at this point.

He can’t blame you, though… 

He’s not any good when it comes to you. He never has been. All your conversations are of him either tutoring you in subjects, scolding you for not wearing his clothes, or admonishing you for not telling him about your schedule.

Actually, almost every conversation you have with each other is of him shouting at you.

It’s no wonder you won’t kiss him.

“Oi – I’m done. Heading over now.�� He grunts as soon as he hears the tell-tale silence of you answering his call. 

“Uhm,” 

He furrows his brows at the soft warble, waiting for more.

There’s heavy breathing coming from your line. Then, a whimper which only makes his brows furrow tighter.

“I’m – uhm, not really feeling so good.” You finally say.

More heavy breathing, followed by a wince.

“Maybe you shouldn't come...”

“Hah? You’ sick? What kinda sick? How’d you get sick?” He immediately starts berating. “This is why you can’t live alone-”

“Just don’t come.” You interrupt a little louder, offering a sigh. “I don’t want to make you sick too…” He thought he even heard a sniffle. “I’ll stay inside, so don’t worry. I’ll call when I feel better – you can come then, okay?”

A small beat passes.

“No. I’m coming now.”

“But-” You whine, but he hangs up.

Dumb brat. Getting yourself sick. This is exactly why you should live with him. You don’t wear a jacket when it’s cold. You don’t eat what you should. You don’t drink enough water. You don’t sleep when you ought to.

“Oi! Open up, brat.” He bangs on your door when he arrives a curt fifteen minutes later – unbothered by the many other students buzzing around the dorm.

He hears you rush to open, quick footsteps padding across the floor – before the door swings open.

You pull him in by the arm, shutting it quickly behind him.

“Don’t call me a brat where everyone can hear, you dummy.” You hiss, slapping his chest in no way that hurt.

Still, he raises a brow at you.

Then he makes another grimace. Narrowing his eyes as he leans forward just a nod – his broad shoulders squared and stiff.

You curl your brows at the stance, tilting your head in askance while his nose scrunches – sniffing the air between you – almost scrutinizingly.

“You’re not sick.” He suddenly accuses.

It’s an odd thing to disagree on. But it always is with Katsuki – ever the unreasonable Alpha. 

“Yes, I am.” You sigh, brushing past him. “I have a fever, and I feel funny.”

He grabs you before you get too far – although softly – holding you by your upper arms while leaning in closer – now with his nose sliding along your neck.

You feel flushed at the proximity. Odd, for some reason.

Something tickles deep down in your stomach, along with the brewing pain you’d felt all day.

“Feverish, restless, aching stomach?” He lists the symptoms with a raised brow, though more so in a statement. Clicking his tongue at the clueless look of askance you give him in return. “You’re in heat, you dumbass.”

This time, you really feel flushed. Eyes going moon-big at his claim – suddenly very nervous. And for good reason.

“No… how do you know?” You deny, shaking your head as though it would make him any less right.

“Tch-” He scoffs halfheartedly – not sharply like he so often does.

Dropping your arms, he straightens his back and looks off to the side – his voice low with something you’d never heard from him.

“You’re stinking up the whole place...”

There’s a blush dusting his cheeks.

The feeling is mutual.

He hadn’t been on board when you’d told him you were moving out of your home to your college campus. The thought of you living in close proximity to dozens of other alphas and trigger-happy betas made the vein in his forehead pulse – hands sweaty at his sides. 

But he’d helped you move nonetheless – if only to make sure your dorm was infested with his scent – veering off any unwanted bidders. 

“Such a dumb brat…” He sighed. Walking over to the door to make sure you’d locked it – you hadn’t, which only further made him scowl. “Got any idea how dangerous this is? Allowing everyone who walks by to know exactly how-”

“Don’t shout!” You bark back. Feeling nervous and tense and worried – all in all panicked. This wasn’t the plan. “The plan was obviously to use suppressants – but I've never been in heat before, so-”

“So yer sayin’ you had no plan. Tch, unprepared – like always.” He bites back – also panicked.

“Shut up, jerk.” Your fists ball at your sides. “You’re not helping- oww-” You keeled before you could rant – wrapping your arms around your stomach.

Heavy breaths erratically short, interrupted by whimpers and a wince. 

His scowl cleared – easing up when he realized his presence might have just made things worse. He’d showered after patrol, so the scent wasn’t as intense, but it was enough for you to react – knowing his pheromones were spurring your hormones into greater turmoil. 

“Shit.” He muttered – suppose with some empathy – before he scooped you up from where you were all about ready to kiss the floor, huddled over. “Alright then, brat...”

You were weak to his handlings – before you knew it, you were already placed in the bed – the two of you in a spoon – your back to his broad chest and his chin atop your head.

He was a little stiff – not unlike him – but you suppose he was feeling a little shy about the matter – his movements perhaps even slightly sheepish as he smoothed his hand over your stomach.

He went under your shirt but didn’t lift it off – placing his palm down flat atop the ache inside. 

Slowly, he began rubbing circles into the flesh – a little awkwardly until finding the right pace. 

It hurt at first – made you tense – but then it settled. The warmth soon soothed the churning within, making it melt, and you let out a relieved sigh – breaths still burdened, laced with pitiful whimpers you couldn’t help but let slip.

He suppressed a sound when you shimmied closer – trying to will away the warmth he felt swell in his pants.

But your scent had been clouding his head since he'd stepped into the room and was only growing thicker. 

“We don’t have to do anything else.” He stated through the haze in spite of it – as though renouncing the need even though you both knew what it was that was poking against your butt.

“You’re hard.” You argued bluntly – as you’d learned was your only tactic with him. 

Feeling him bristle. “Tch – blame your shitty scent – a man can only hold himself back so much…”

All clothes were still on – and yet… the fat thing that was tucked right alongside the thin cotton of your pajama shorts and undies… you wouldn’t deny it felt nice – couldn’t – not when you were so wet it was embarrassing.

“Stop.” You said – and his hand peeled off your stomach, making you grab and put it back in place. “No, not that – I mean…” 

You chewed your lip – shuffling your thighs – feeling hot all over before releasing another sigh.

“You don’t have to hold yourself back…” You could only barely say it – almost unheard in how timid a whisper it was.

He took a moment in fear of having misunderstood you – remaining vigilant in his cautiousness. Every nerve recognized what a fragile state you were in – and nothing dared defy the single dominant instinct he had telling him to cater to your every need – despite the other almost equally incessant urge he felt to hump you like a pillow.

“Y’gotta explain yourself.”

This time, you gave a whine – caught between vexed and desperate. Shrinking where you lay snug against his bigger body, curling in on yourself. “Please don’t make me say it, Katsuki – it’s so embarrassing, I think I might die.”

His heart beats faster at the vulnerable cry. He swallowed the pool of drool under his tongue – squaring his jaw, doing his best to keep his voice calm. “I can’t help you if you don’t tell me what you want.”

“Ugh – you're such a bully-” You curl even further into a ball with a whimper.

Katsuki clicks his tongue at your behavior – briefly rolling his eyes before pulling you up beneath him. His red eyes, holding that pointed dour look – such contrast to the swiveling of your watery ones. 

“Tell me what you want.” His voice was sturdier now – an anchor you could hold onto.

You had often been unsure whether Katsuki really was the right mate for you even though you couldn’t really picture yourself with anyone else – let alone think of him with another Omega without wanting to trash your room like a wild animal let out of the cage. But looking at him now – into those bromine eyes – once so harsh and now so mature, making you feel so safe.

He was waiting for an answer, but your lips had other plans – planting themselves on his in a spur-of-the-moment kiss.

And what left them once the two of you parted was nothing short of heart-robbing.

“Please fuck me.”

[the-traveling-poet]

House-Husband’s Love

When life becomes too overwhelming, maybe even simultaneously underwhelming at times, sometimes you just need a break. Just a day off to lay around and do nothing; give your brain a chance to calm down and reset. With Levi as your partner, you can bet he would be the one to ensure you got your breaks. And some attention, of course.

Pairing: Levi Ackerman x gn!Reader (relationship isn’t specified, so imagine how you prefer!)

Warnings: SFW, hurt-to-comfort kinda, themes of depression/disassociation/sensory overload, fluff ending

A/N: Needing some modern!househusband!Levi rn cause I’m nearing my breaking point again and needed to write some brain rot to completely disassociate again. I guess also to distract myself from writing my fics? I dunno man.

1.2k words

It must have been one of those days; where everything felt off-balance. Levi always saw. He could tell by just a glance your way the morning before.

Another day of feeling as though every sight before you became dull and muted in appearance. Unnoticeable, nearly, while you disassociated. And yet somehow, all at once, the more noticeable everything became, making you paranoid and panicked.

He could figure out your tell-tale signs well enough by now, from his own curious observations over time. Occasionally, after some time of letting you sort it out yourself, he’d talked it over once or twice with you. He’d asked you how exactly you felt on days like these; days where your eyes stayed wide and brows raised in an expression of alertness, even as your jaw clenched and hands shook, your eyes glazed over as you kept yourself in near constant motion. He knew the signs, and what they meant.

You were spiraling again. Sensory overload, dissociation…He hadn’t seen it so bad in you before.

Always moving, always forcing yourself to focus no matter how shallow it made your breath...He hated seeing you in such a state, when you wanted to focus on anything but your own thoughts.

Sometimes these moments lasted a few hours, sometimes even just one. But often, they progressed into days of forced hyper focus and constant activity to draw yourself away from your own mind, busying it with tasks and work.

But this time…this time, it had been weeks.

It hurt him to see you so stressed, no matter the situation.

And so, one such morning, following another rough night, he took the liberty of disengaging your alarm for the morning. The simple press of a button, he hoped, would keep you asleep for just a tad longer. Your mind needed the rest of a couple more hours, he reasoned.

After only a second’s hesitation in which he still held your phone, he also sent a quick email to your employer; some excuse about being unwell enough to not clock in today, and warning about a possible similar hinderance for the following day.

'If you need more information, feel free to message my emergency contact, as he's looking after me today while I recover.'

He sent the email, slightly smirking to himself as he turned your phone off and set it back onto the nightstand.

He would handle it for you, as much as he could.

Pulling the covers up over your shoulder, Levi slid out of the bed soundlessly.

With you still soundly asleep, he went about tidying up what he could around the apartment, keeping any noise to a minimum to ensure you stayed asleep.

'A clean space helps clear the mind,' he'd always believed, and as such he wanted to provide you with such a fresh start today. Whenever you chose to wake up, that is. He wouldn’t enforce it today.

It wasn't until late morning he heard movement from the bedroom, your weight shifting over the creaking bed as you stumbled out in a panic moments later.

"My alarm, I must not have set it-" You'd started, obviously anxious as you raced to throw on a new top and a pair of jeans.

Before you could get to slip anything off, Levi’s hand found your shoulder, softly holding you in place.

"Don't worry about it, love. You have today off. Maybe even tomorrow, unless I get a call."

He mumbled, gently taking a jacket from your shaking hands.

You stared up at him blankly for a moment, completely in disbelief.

"...It's Wednesday. I work a 9-5, babe...I'm not off today; it's not a holiday." You tried to protest weakly, but once again were silenced by a slender finger against your lips.

"I know. I called off for you, though. Besides, the shift started three hours ago, so there's no need to bother going in now. Just take a seat, breakfast is half done."

Still regarding him in complete bewilderment, you hesitantly took a seat on the couch and watched him meander back towards the kitchen, returning his attention back to the stove. It was only then you noticed the array of pans neatly set on the hot surface, and the toaster on the counter already slotted with bread. The smell of frying foods wafting over to you, causing your stomach to protest weakly.

When was the last time you’d focused on a full meal, instead of eating a few small bites here and there throughout the day?

It wasn't long until he'd plated the meal, and brought you a plate with a cup of tea to pair it. Once you were settled in with your plate and utensils, he sat down on the couch beside you with his one of his own. He'd never been fond of eating on the couch, you knew, so this must be a 'special occasion' of sorts.

"...Why?" You eventually mumbled between bites of toast and sips of tea, digging in the moment he’d sat.

He swallowed the bite of scrambled eggs from his own plate before answering, a napkin already in hand to wipe away any invisible cooking greased from his lips.

"You're stressed out, baby. I've seen it for several days now. Relaxing evenings after work weren't doing it, so I wanted to give you a full day's worth, instead."

"...I'm fine. Life is just rough sometimes-"

You'd started, setting down your mug to weakly protest his concerns; but he easily held a hand over your wrist, lowering the warm beverage from your lips.

"Then isn't it my job to try and make life a little less strenuous? One day off won't kill you, and won't impact the income too greatly. We can manage; but your mental health can’t, not like this.”

He sighed, setting your mug down onto the coffee table for you.

“Just relax, yeah? Relax, and let me handle today for you. It’s the least I can do, for all that you always do.”

Huffing quietly in muted amusement, you smiled his way, eyes welling with unshed tears. Tears of silent relief.

“…I haven’t had a work day off in ages, maybe months. Two days a week are nice, but…”

“…But not enough sometimes. I know sweetheart. I know. I can see it in you. So just relax today. We don’t have to be productive every day.” Levi reassured softly, keeping his hand around yours.

“Hell, I’ll bully your boss into giving you another day off-“

“Levi I need this job, you can’t,” you giggled, leaning against his side and curling up onto the couch.

“…But thank you, my love. I think I needed this,” you finished in a whisper, briefly closing your eyes.

“I know you did.” Levi stated calmly, running his free hand’s fingers through your hair.

“Just rest…I’ve got everything else. I’ll deal with it for you.”

(A/N: I’m a whore for the idea of Levi calling us ‘baby’ or ‘sweetheart’ leave me alONE-)

For mroe Levi Ackerman content, feel free to check out my other masterlists!

[evangelical04]

A Single Daffodil || 3

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

Word Count: 11.9K

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, future smut, body image issues

Author's Note: is this being posted over a week late? yes but I'm in the middle of exams at the moment eek! on the bright side, I'll be able to work on this more often after this week since most of my exams will be done! and then I have about a month until my job starts so I'm planning to grind!! all that aside, we get to see them get married here, so exciting!! yoongi seems to be having second thoughts hmmm interesting. let me know what you guys think! i love to hear your feedback <33

Taglist:

@yoongisducky @kam9404 @sumzysworld @tarahardcore @viankiss @babystarcandylovejk @ktownshizzle @futuristicenemychaos @igot7fairlyoddparents @baechugff @pb89nv @peachytokki @ratherbfangirling @themwordsblog @daisies-and-dandelionpuffs @kimmalik @honeyypages @captainchrisstan @khaimahfe @yoongibaybee

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You nervously smoothed out the skirt of your dress in an effort to calm your nerves but found little success. The day of the rehearsal had come and in less than twenty-four hours, you were to be married. Your hands shook as you grasped the door handle of the entrance to the banquet hall. Hoseok laid a comforting hand on your shoulder before shooting you a reassuring smile. He had decided to attend the rehearsal at your insistence, citing seeing Joohee again as the reason, though you knew he could tell how worried you were. 

Mustering a small smile in response, you pushed open the door to see the ceremony space set up with nauseatingly bright flowers and ornate, crystal-laden light fixtures hanging from the ceiling. The chairs were decorated in satin sashes with gold embroidery and the altar was woven around with glittering flowers. Your mother was standing at the edge of the aisle, speaking to the catering service employee. She was dressed impeccably as always, her commanding presence demanding that you look at and respect her. Your father was sitting in one of the satin chairs, scrolling dully on his phone. Your mother noticed you standing by the door and quickly beckoned you over. 

As you approached, Hoseok following close behind, you noticed something at the end of the room. Standing at the end of the aisle was Yoongi, clad in the normal black suit you’d seen him in thus far, with his tie loosened and hair ruffled. He was speaking to his mother, who was adjusting his blazer, and his father, who stood off to the side, distantly nodding along. He had yet to notice your arrival, but you were fully enraptured by him. This was what you had been dreaming of since you’d met Yoongi outside that party so long ago, walking down the aisle to see him at the other end, promising your lives to each other in an act of fierce and nurtured love. But that wasn’t what was happening. Hoseok’s grip on your shoulder grounded you as you approached your mother. You could feel his arm laying across your shoulder blades and hanging loosely, but comfortingly, in an effort to brace you for your mother. 

“Nice to see you finally made it. You must’ve been in a rush if you only had time to choose that outfit,” your mother stated, not bothering to properly greet you or acknowledge Hoseok. She knew who he was and she didn’t approve of your close relationship with him, but she knew that she couldn’t say anything out loud lest her image be tainted, which is what you were banking on. 

Feeling Hoseok’s grip tighten at your mother’s careless words, you tried to subtly placate him, “Hello, mother. I’m sorry I’m late. Will we be starting soon?” Your mother only nodded curtly before turning away to speak to more of the venue employees. You let out a heavy breath before sitting down at one of the nearby chairs, not making an effort to try and greet your father. It’s not like he’d acknowledge you anyway. 

“God damn, you need therapy,” Hoseok whistled lowly. 

You let out a tired laugh, pulling him down to sit next to you, “Yeah, but we knew that already. Are you sure you’re up to face these guys? It can be a lot.”

Hoseok nodded, smiling kindly at you, before squeezing the hand you pulled him down with, “Of course, I am. I said I was here for you and I meant it.”

You grinned, having missed his fervent support and soothing touch, “Thanks, Hobi. You’re the best.” Hoseok only gave you another squeeze in response. 

“Wow, I’m offended,” came a voice from behind you, “I thought I was the best.”

You and Hoseok turned to find Joohee in a simple dress, hands resting on her hips. Smiling up at her, you nodded, “You know you’re in a league of your own. Hobi can’t even compare.” 

Hoseok scoffed incredulously, “You’re so fickle, how could you call yourself my friend.”

Sticking your tongue out at him, you leaned back in your chair with Joohee joining, sitting on your other side. Your eyes drifted back to Yoongi, and you startled, finding him looking right back at you. He casually shifted his gaze back to his mother, who was still speaking to him, not sparing you another glance. 

“So, that’s him?”

You turned towards Hoseok, whose gaze was pointed at Yoongi’s form. You nodded, “Yeah, that’s him. My…fiance.”

Hoseok studied your sullen form for a moment before grabbing your shoulders and giving you a friendly squeeze, “At least he’s hot!”

Joohee and you laughed at his antics before hearing the large, wooden doors to the entrance open once more. A group of handsome men entered, about four, only one of whom you recognized as Joohee’s older brother. The group approached, laughing together while walking towards Yoongi. Joohee stood, shouting Seokjin’s name, calling him over to your small group. Kim Seokjin smiled at the sight of his sister before breaking off from the group, one of the men following after, while the others continued to Yoongi. 

“Hey, Joo, how’s it going,” Seokjin smiled easily, ruffling his sister’s hair. She swatted at him before answering, “Good, but mom’s been on my case lately to come home.”

You looked on in envy, wishing you had a similar, friendly relationship with your own brother. Kyungsoo was nice enough to you, when he cared to acknowledge you. He had been primed by your parents to take over their company since he was young, but they’d made sure that the two of you had stayed competitive academically. Even though you were younger, you tended to do better in your studies, something your parents never let Kyungsoo forget. As a result, he’d grown extremely distant with you and you rarely spoke now. Actually, you weren’t even sure if he was coming to the wedding. 

“There’s the bride-to-be! How are you feeling,” Seokjin’s voice boomed, snapping you out of your daze. 

You smiled politely at him, “Hi, Jin oppa, it’s nice to see you. I’m feeling alright, as well as I can.”

Seokjin nodded sympathetically, “I know Yoongi hasn’t been the best, but give him some time to adjust. If he’s still an ass after that, let me know and I’ll beat him up.”

You laughed as he puffed out his chest and raised an arm to display his muscles. Joohee rolled her eyes before punching him lightly in his side, “Oppa, no one wants to see that. Here, let me introduce you to Hobi.”

Hoseok stood to greet the older man, no longer obstructing your view of the other man who had followed Seokjin out of the group earlier. He was quite tall, though not as tall as Seokjin, and well built, with tattoos flowing down his hands, curling around the small wrinkles of his fingers. His shaggy black hair framed a boyish face that wore a polite smile. Why did he seem so familiar?

“Jeon Jeongguk,” you blurted out, almost stumbling to stand and confirm your suspicions. He turned to face you, with you now realizing that it was, in fact, the same streamer you’d been following for the past few years. You hadn’t recognized him immediately without his usual garb of sweatshirts, headphones, and piercings littering his face. 

“Hi, you’re Seo Y/N, I assume,” he smiled, eyes crinkling. Feeling slightly starstruck, you nodded dumbly. 

“Oh yeah, I forgot to mention, Kook, she’s a big fan of yours. She watches your streams all the time,” Joohee interjected. Your gaze shot towards her, sending her a silent message. 

You know him? And you didn’t tell me? 

Joohee only shrugged sheepishly, Sorry, must’ve slipped my mind.

You gritted your teeth, I’m so interrogating you later.

Jeongguk’s voice called you back to him, “Really? That’s cool, I always love meeting fans.”

Feeling your cheeks redden, you stumbled slightly over your words, “Yeah! I love all your videos, you got me into a couple of new games I didn’t think I’d ever enjoy,” you finished, laughing awkwardly. 

Jeongguk took it in stride, bashfully scratching the back of his head, “Thanks, I appreciate that. So you’re into a lot of games, yourself?”

Seeing an opportunity, you relaxed, feeling yourself brighten at the chance to talk about your favorite subject, “Yeah! I actually work for O.K. Gaming in their planning team. I’m not really into MMOs, but I like a lot of RPGs and platformers, my favorite right now is actually this indie one from the U.S. that’s been out for a couple of years, Celeste, it got put on the switch but I played it on my PC. But I’ve been branching out, thanks to you! Watching you play all the old Zelda games made me want to get into it too, but I ended up starting with Breath of the Wild because it looked so pretty, the graphics are just amazing! So are the mechanics, I was really impressed with how-”

“Woah, there,” you heard Hoseok, laying a hand on the small of your back, “You’re gonna scare him away.”

You laughed awkwardly, noticing the shocked expression that painted Jeongguk’s face, “Sorry, I tend to get over-excited when it comes to that stuff.”

Jeongguk seemed to snap back into the conversation, shaking his head wildly with a large grin, “No, that’s great! It’s been a while since I’ve been able to geek out with someone. We should totally hang out, what’s your number?”

You felt yourself slip back into a comfortable smile before taking Jeongguk’s phone to put your number in while he excitedly mentioned the games he was thinking of streaming next. Handing his phone back, he glanced at it before looking back up at you, “Hey, is it okay for me to call you noona? I do the same with Joohee noona.”

Slightly surprised at his forwardness, you nodded, “Yeah, that’d be nice. I don’t think I’ll call you Kook though.”

He laughed brightly, “We’ll work our way up to that.”

One of the other groomsmen called both Seokjin and Jeongguk back to the altar, leaving you to bask in the feeling of having met one of your favorite content creators and becoming friends with him, ignoring Hoseok’s quiet teasing at your geeking out. The bliss didn’t last long though as you heard your mother clap her hands and ask everyone to sit near the front. Hoseok’s hand slipped into your own, giving it a gentle squeeze, along with an encouraging smile, before letting you and Joohee join the others at the front. You’d wished that you could put Hoseok in your wedding party, but you knew your mother would never allow it. You were grateful already that he’d come to the rehearsal despite not being able to do anything the entire time. 

You and Joohee took your seats at the front, sitting next to some other young women you recognized from your mother’s galas, likely the rest of your bridesmaids. Your mother had been kind enough to let you choose Joohee as your maid of honor, but you knew she’d only allowed it because Joohee’s family was high up enough according to her standards. 

Your mother positioned herself at the altar, addressing everyone with a confident tone, “Now that everyone’s present, I’ll let Mrs. Shin go through the itinerary for today.” Your mother then stepped aside, joining your father on your family’s side of the aisle.

A small, stout woman with her hair in a tight bun and a string of pearls adorning her neck took the stand, “Hello, I’m Shin Miyeon, the wedding planner for this event. For today, we’ll start with a rehearsal of the entrances and ceremony, which will be followed by the entrances for the reception and a run-through of the timings for the dances tomorrow. We’ll end with a joint dinner, and then we’ll be done. Let’s get started.”

Mrs. Shin immediately started directing people, the bridal party being the first, and pairing them up by height to walk together. Joohee was quickly whisked away, leaving you shaking nervously, as this was all beginning to feel a bit too real. The thought was suddenly occurring to you that you really were going to be marrying Yoongi and he absolutely did not want it to happen. Sinking further into your seat, you sent an encouraging, but wavering, smile to Joohee who was paired with her brother due to their similar heights. Your eyes drifted towards Yoongi, who was sitting calmly on the other side of the aisle, swiping through his phone with an unimpressed expression. How could he be so nonchalant about all this?

“Mr. Min, Ms. Seo, please join me at the entrance,” Mrs. Shin’s voice called out, making you raise your head in her direction. You felt your heart rate speed up and your hands clench, you weren’t ready for this. Your vision almost seemed to cloud as it felt like a hand was closing in around your throat, and your breath started to stutter. You absolutely were not ready for this. Your life was about to change, arguably for the worse, and you had to spend it with someone who wouldn’t even acknowledge you. You could distantly hear Mrs. Shin calling your name once more but it felt like you couldn’t move, your body didn’t feel like your own. Gaze lowering to the ground, it seemed like spots were taking over your vision. Your breath continued to quicken and you could feel yourself beginning to fully lose control of your breathing.

This can’t be happening.

You needed to get ahold of yourself, there were people all around you, not to mention your mother and Yoongi. But no matter how hard you tried to ground yourself, the control you had over your body kept slipping away, and it only caused you to freak out further. A pair of smart, black dress shoes came into your view and you lifted your head to see Yoongi looking down at you with a raised eyebrow through your blurry vision. 

“Are you coming?”

You forced yourself to hold your breath, letting it out slowly after counting for a few seconds, before nodding and standing on wobbly legs. You didn’t have time to break down, you had a job to do. 

Following Yoongi and Mrs. Shin to the entrance doors, you pointedly avoided eye contact with your mother while sending shaky smiles to Joohee and Hoseok. You had to get a grip. 

“Alright, let’s go through the order we’ll be going down the aisle. Can the rest of the wedding party please come down here?”

You were squished up against the door with Yoongi at your side as the wedding party took their places to arrive at the altar before you. Setting your eyes straightforward, you resisted any temptation to glance at Yoongi to see his expression. You couldn’t face him after he’d witnessed you almost experience a full-on panic attack. Focusing in on Mrs. Shin’s firm tone was an easy distraction, as you watched her guide your wedding party down the aisle and to the altar. Slowly but surely, she made her way to you and your groom, with Yoongi being directed first.

“You’ll walk before Ms. Seo and take your place next to Mr. Kim at the stand,” Mrs. Shin said, guiding Yoongi toward the other end of the room. You watched as he gracefully strode down the aisle, casually stopping next to Seokjin and turning to face your direction. The action made you pause, almost breathlessly, as your gaze connected. However, his eyes didn’t last long on your form, as they slid over to Seokjin and Yoongi began conversing with him. 

You couldn’t help the disappointed feeling in your chest, despite knowing full well you had no right to suffer it. Yoongi wasn’t yours, he would never be, something he had made quite clear in your limited interactions. Yet, you couldn’t help but feel a tugging in your stomach, a pain in your forefinger, at his blatant dismissal of you. Biting your lip, you cursed inwardly, now was not the time to fall even deeper for your husband-to-be. 

“Ms. Seo, please follow me. You can hold this in place of your bouquet,” Mrs. Shin said, handing you a nondescript water bottle. A quick glance at Hoseok’s form turned to face you had you confirming that he was making fun of you as you had suspected. You brushed off his giggles and stepped in what you hoped was an elegant manner after Mrs. Shin, following her down the aisle. 

You deliberately avoided looking at Yoongi’s face, knowing that he wouldn’t be watching you. Did you want him to? 

Yes.

You almost scoffed. What a ridiculous notion. What you were in need of was a good, old reality check, not playing into the fantasy of marrying Yoongi for love. As you passed Hoseok, he whistled wolfishly, earning a disapproving frown from your mother. It was exactly what you needed though, pulling a laugh out of you before discreetly flipping him off from behind the water bottle. You felt the tension leave your body at Hoseok’s familiar antics, finally feeling relaxed for the first time that night. Maybe you could do this, after all.

Reaching the altar, Mrs. Shin proceeded to give minor notes to the rest of your wedding party as you stood awkwardly next to Yoongi. You could hear his soft breaths as he waited patiently for Mrs. Shin to address you both, but you couldn’t bring yourself to look at or try to start a conversation with him. Yoongi seemed to be doing the same, keeping his eyes forward and occasionally glancing at his watch. 

You felt lonely. You were standing next to the person who was going to be your partner for the rest of your life and yet, you felt a deep and painful distance from him. You could feel his warmth, hear him shuffling beside you, but you deliberately shied away from brushing elbows to solidify the separation between you. Yoongi seemed so calm and indifferent, it made you feel a troubling combination of envy and anger. 

Why couldn’t you be as blase as him about this? Why was he so apathetic in the first place? Didn’t he care about you at all? Was he judging you for not being aloof yourself? Why didn’t he want to engage with you at all?

It hurt, to say the least, but the rational part of you annoyingly came to his defense. Realistically, you knew he had no obligation to try and converse with, or even care about, you. So why were you still so hurt?

“Mr. Min, Ms. Seo, please join me at the doors. We’ll run through it again.”

Mrs. Shin’s voice put a halt to your spiraling thoughts, making you register Yoongi turning around beside you. Following suit, you joined behind him, taking a glance at your watch. Only about thirty or so minutes had passed.

You sighed, this was really going to be a test of your endurance. 

The cushioned chair felt welcoming, even though your company did not evoke the same feeling. Your mother was sitting across from you and her cold stare made you shrivel into your seat. Hoseok was placed on the far end of the table with Joohee, making them achingly far from you. Yoongi was next to you in a performance pretending this was a willing marriage. Not that the restaurant staff would care. 

You scowled internally, lamenting the fact that you couldn’t even eat dinner comfortably. Your mother was sending you cursory glances while talking to Yoongi’s mother, and your dad was talking business with Yoongi’s father, and with Yoongi conversing with Seokjin, you were painfully lonely. You resorted to quietly playing with the napkin in your lap and staring at your empty plate and wine glass in front of you, desperately wishing you could drink to make the dinner easier but you knew your mother wouldn’t approve. 

“Y/N noona?”

You looked up, making eye contact with Jeongguk, who was sitting next to you, previously talking to another groomsman with stunning dimples next to him. 

“Oh, yes,” you responded, straightening in your chair. 

“I wanted to talk to you some more about the games you mentioned earlier since we didn’t get to finish,” he responded, a bright, bunny smile decorating his face. 

You felt yourself smile warmly in response automatically, his joy and bubbliness seemed to be contagious, “Yeah, I’d love to. What would you like to know?”

The conversation with Jeongguk proved to be your oasis in the desert of the stale and stiff conversations happening around you, especially between your parents. His encouraging smile put you at ease and made the tension flow out from your fingers. You were grateful that he was so engaging, keeping you distracted from the shifting from the aloof and dominating presence you felt beside you. 

Yoongi had remained relatively quiet throughout the whole evening, only having spoken to you when you were on the verge of breaking down. He spoke quietly to his friends, not bothering to introduce you to them, and had barely looked in your direction. Part of you couldn’t deny it upsetting you, but you constantly reminded yourself that this was to be expected. 

The both of you had made no commitment to each other outside of appearing as a couple when it mattered, he had no obligation to be friendly towards you. It felt like your mind was going in circles continually trying to keep your emotions in check and avoid crossing the boundaries Yoongi had so clearly laid out. 

The thought entered your mind once again, Is this what the rest of your life is going to be like? 

It certainly felt that way. 

You felt Yoongi shift beside you once again, making you flinch. Thankfully, Jeongguk didn’t seem to notice, too engrossed in describing his most recent gaming obsession with you. You felt hyper-aware of Yoongi’s presence, whether he was right beside you or at the other end of the room. It bothered you how much he affected you, but you almost enjoyed it at the same time.

There was something pleasant about the feeling of falling in love with someone, regardless of whether it was a tragic infatuation or not. The rush of your heartbeat whenever you caught a glimpse of him, the way your breath hitched when you accidentally brushed shoulders, the way your fingers itched to grasp his hand, it all felt so romantic in a way. 

Where it all came crashing down was the reality that Yoongi didn’t feel a semblance of the same way. Your spiked heartbeat was met with his indifferent exterior, your hitched breath with his calm and even exhales, and your twitching fingers with his clenched fist. It was detrimental, damaging even, and it was taking a toll on, not only your emotional wellbeing but your self-confidence as well. You were so swiftly rejected by him that it was a blow to your self-esteem. You hadn’t felt particularly great about yourself prior to his crushing dismissal, but you had certainly been in a downward spiral since then. 

Too often now you were scrutinizing your appearance in the mirror, choosing baggier clothing while hating the silhouette, and catching yourself while speaking. It wasn’t logical or warranted, but that didn’t stop your overactive mind from whispering your insecurities quietly every day. Maybe Hoseok had a point. You really needed to look into therapy.

“Noona?”

“Oh, sorry, I was just zoning out,” you blinked, tuning back into Jeongguk’s honey-sweet voice. 

He smiled sympathetically, something you seemed to be on the receiving end of a lot lately, “That’s okay. Are you feeling alright?”

“I’m alright,” you nodded, not wanting to divulge the cacophony of thoughts swimming around in your head, “Please, continue with what you were saying.”

Jeongguk’s energizing smile made a reappearance, making you relax further into your chair. You let his dulcet voice lull you into a comfortable conversation for the rest of the dinner, trying not to react whenever you felt movement beside you. 

“Thank you all for coming, we appreciate your being here. We’ll be meeting at the venue tomorrow at nine, so please be sure to be on time,” your mother concluded, your group standing outside the restaurant. With that, the crowd slowly dispersed, your parents speaking to Yoongi’s at their cars and the bridal parties filing out into respective vehicles as well. You leaned back into Hoseok’s firm torso, letting his arm encircle your waist and his chin rest on your shoulder. 

You didn’t often let people touch you, but Hoseok was a rare exception, having broken your barriers down in college, and served as a comforting touch whenever you needed it. It evolved into more casual affection, a similar version being displayed between Hoseok and Joohee, and you accepted it as just part of his personality. You knew how it looked to people around you but you simply didn’t care, Hoseok was a good friend, and you’d be damned if you were going to refuse the little human contact you allowed. 

Joohee was talking animatedly to Hoseok about something or other, you weren’t really paying attention. Hoseok’s warmth soothed you, making your eyelids fall in the exhaustion from the day’s events. Out of the corner of your eye, you caught your mother frowning at you, but you paid no mind. For the first time since the announcement, you wondered if she’d finally leave you to your own devices now that you were doing the ultimate show of subservience to her. 

Kim Seokjin’s booming voice startled you from Hoseok’s grasp, making him switch to leaning against your car door. You spotted Seokjin’s tall figure making his way over to you, the other groomsmen following behind. Yoongi was also tailing Seokjin, making you stand up straighter and try to steel your expression. 

“Joo, Y/N, we’re gonna go for some drinks to celebrate Yoongi’s bachelordom ending, want to join? You’re welcome too, of course, Hobi,” Seokjin smiled kindly. You almost flinched at the mention of Yoongi’s bachelor lifestyle ending, apparently, he hadn’t told his friends about the rules he’d set. 

Joohee’s face hardened towards Yoongi, apparently realizing the same thing you did, before turning sickeningly sweet towards her brother, “No thanks, oppa. We’re gonna head back to Y/N’s.”

“Oh, c’mon, noona,” Jeongguk looked at you imploringly, eyes shining, “It’ll be fun! We can hang out more!”

You smiled apologetically as you felt Hoseok wrap a protective arm around you, noting that he was probably on the same page as Joohee, “Sorry Jeongguk, maybe next time.”

Jeongguk shrugged, turning to the other groomsmen, the dimpled man with tan skin and a model-esque-looking man with dark eyebrows and lighter hair. Seokjin furrowed his eyebrow slightly, mouth upturning into a small frown, “Well, okay, but I’ll be taking you out to celebrate at some point, Y/N. Mark the date!”

You laughed quietly, waving him off with an acquiescing nod. The men filed back towards their respective cars, heading to bars or someone’s house, you assumed. You began turning further into Hoseok to face your car before realizing that Yoongi was still standing there. 

Pausing, you looked at him questioningly, feeling Hoseok’s grip tighten. Yoongi’s dark eyes narrowed at your intertwined forms. 

“Do you need something, Yoongi-ssi,” Joohee asked in a clipped tone. You almost cringed at the blatant contempt. 

“No,” Yoongi responded quietly, “I don’t. See you tomorrow, Y/N.” He nodded politely in your direction before turning to walk back to his car, pausing for a last glance at your bemused face. 

“What was that,” Joohee scoffed, flipping off Yoongi’s silhouette. 

You shrugged, not knowing what to make of it either, “C’mon, let’s just go home. I need to get drunk.”

Joohee entered your car and you were just about to follow before Hoseok pulled you back, making you almost stop in your tracks.

“Y/N,” he sighed, looking into your eyes, “Are you really okay?”

You pulled your hand out of his, tired of being treated in such a fragile manner, “Yes, I’m fine. As good as I can be. I just want to go home.” You felt bad for snapping, but you were irritable after a long day and you wanted to get out of your dress and wipe off your makeup. You turned back towards the car before Hoseok spoke again.

“I know,” Hoseok said softly, “But there’s something off about him. I can’t place it. It was the way he looked at you, especially when I was hugging you.”

You twisted your head in his direction quickly, “Stop. Seriously, Hoseok, I really don’t need to be thinking about that. The last thing I need for this stupid infatuation is to think that there’s something there when there isn’t. I don’t need you putting those kinds of thoughts into my brain.”

Hoseok recoiled before scratching the back of his head and shooting you an apologetic glance, “You’re right, sorry. Let’s just go home, yeah?”

You both entered the car, Joohee leaning forward from the backseat to glance at the both of you.

“Is everything cool with you guys,” she questioned, likely having witnessed the scene outside the car. 

“Yeah, just fine,” you said bluntly, gripping the steering wheel. What were you doing? Hoseok was just expressing concern. You didn’t have a right to get so worked up and take out your anger on him.

Sighing, you let yourself relax into your cushioned car seat, turning towards Hoseok who was in the passenger seat, “Sorry, Hobi. I shouldn’t have lashed out like that. I’m sorry.”

“It’s totally fine,” Hoseok smiled comfortingly, “Don’t even worry about it. I know how stressed you’ve been.”

“No,” you protested, “That isn’t an excuse. You were just looking out for me.”

Hoseok laughed jovially, “Hey, it’s fine, I promise. If anything, I’m glad to see you letting out some emotion, I was beginning to get worried that you didn’t get angry anymore.”

“Oh, she can get angry, alright,” Joohee mused from the backseat, “You’re just not around to see it anymore.”

You laughed, feeling relief at Hoseok’s easy acceptance of your apology. You started up your car, pulling out into the street. 

“Let’s go get shitfaced in your living room,” Joohee cheered from behind you, Hoseok laughing along loudly. 

A smile formed on your face, making you chuckle at Joohee’s exclamations. You were lucky, luckier than you thought initially. Even with everything going on, you felt your heart fill at your friends’ gracious and kind attitudes toward you. You continued driving to your apartment, feeling a touch more confident about your ability to get through tomorrow relatively unscathed. 

Your dress felt constricting, but not in a way that a seamstress could fix. Despite your unfounded confidence the night before, standing behind the closed doors of the aisle sent a fresh wave of anxiety through your veins. 

How were you going to get through this? Yoongi was waiting on the other side, at the end of the aisle, about to become your partner for life. Except, you weren’t going to be his partner in the same way. 

Initially, Yoongi was supposed to walk down with you, your entourage partnered up like you’d practiced at the beginning of yesterday. But Mrs. Shin didn’t like the visual, making her change it to a more traditional style ceremony. Go figure that she wouldn’t think the sight of you and Yoongi walking together 

A sick nausea curled in your stomach, making you clench the audacious bouquet, letting a few petals fall to the floor. You felt a hand clasp your shoulder, making you turn, seeing Joohee’s concerned frown. 

“Hey, it’ll be okay, I’ll be right there. You can do this,” she squeezed your shoulder. 

“Yeah, yeah, I can do this,” you repeated, attempting to calm your nerves. A small voice in the back of your mind whispered, wondering if Yoongi had the same nerves. 

The thought almost made you scoff, there was no way. Nothing much in his life was changing other than getting a roommate he had to take to galas. 

You knew that wasn’t a fair sentiment. Yoongi was as negatively affected by this arrangement as you were, he was just taking a more emotionally removed approach. Maybe you should learn from that. 

Mrs. Shin appeared next to you in a flurry, “We’re about to open the doors. Are you ready?”

You nodded stiffly, knowing the answer was that you’d never be ready to marry Min Yoongi. 

Hearing the muffled piano begin to play, signaling the start to your bridal party’s entrance, you released a heavy breath, trying to paint on a passive exterior. Joohee whispered some small last bits of encouragement your way before taking her place in front of you. 

The doors slowly opened, letting your bridesmaids walk down before you. You could feel your hands trembling.

Hidden from the audience’s eyes beside the door, Mrs. Shin gestured at you, mouthing that you were up next. 

Taking a moment to close your eyes, you steeled your nerves and took a step forward. You could do this. It was just a walk, that’s all it was. 

You repeated the mantra in your head as you took more and more steps down the aisle, focusing your gaze on the ornate carvings above the altar. Out of the corner of your eye, you noticed your mother gesturing for you to smile, and you responded automatically, letting a small smile adorn your mouth. It felt hollow, but that wasn’t what mattered. 

As you approached the altar, your gaze naturally shifted down to Yoongi, who was poised in a statuesque manner. He looked radiant, the black suit fitted perfectly to his chest and tapered at his waist. His charcoal hair was styled, showing his forehead, displaying his clear, smooth skin. His hands were clasped in front of him, your eyes tracing the outlines of his fingers, and his aura exuded confidence. You purposefully kept your gaze away from his face, not wanting to see the expression that he wore. 

Reaching the steps up to the altar, you carefully climbed each one, making sure not to trip over the hem of your dress. You took your place next to Yoongi, feeling him turn to face the officiant. As the officiant began speaking, you felt yourself breathe out slowly, trying to recover from the initial stress. You had the first step done, the rest wouldn’t be so hard. 

Thankfully, you could zone out for most of the ceremony, with the officiant droning on in your ear. Most of this was for show anyway, you didn’t really need to seem present. It was lucky that you were facing away from your audience, allowing your eyes to glaze over and subtly stifle yawns. 

You barely processed Yoongi’s presence throughout the ceremony, trying not to glance in his direction. He hadn’t really acknowledged you, but it didn’t surprise you. In a way, it almost pained you that you were getting used to his apathy this quickly. 

Another blessing came in the form that you didn’t have to recite vows. The attendees of the weddings had seen far too many arranged marriages to sit through another cycle of canned and rehearsed vows. It felt especially lucky to you as well in that you wouldn’t have to look into Yoongi’s eyes as you declared your devotion to him. 

The ceremony itself quickly came to an end, and you were forced to turn to Yoongi, making eye contact accidentally for the first time that day. It sent a rush of heat to bloom in the apples of your cheeks and the pace of your heart quickened. It felt pathetic, really, to let him have that effect on you. 

You extended your hand as Yoongi gently took it, sliding the cold metal of the ring onto your finger. Your hands felt numb from staying in place so long during the officiant’s speech, but Yoongi’s warm touch sparked new life in them, making them tremble in his grasp. 

Letting out a shaky exhale, you took Yoongi’s hand in your own, noting the smooth planes of his palm and long digits. You internally cringed at your quivering fingers as you slid Yoongi’s own obsidian wedding band onto his finger. Letting go as soon as you were done, you let your hands fall back down to your sides. You pointedly avoided any eye contact with Yoongi, knowing what was next. 

“I now pronounce you man and wife. You may kiss the bride.”

It felt like the air was sucked from your lungs. You knew this was coming yet it still scared you. You weren’t so much afraid of the kiss, you’d kissed plenty of people, but you were afraid of what it would ignite in you. 

Yoongi left you no room to hesitate as he grasped your cheeks and gently tugged you toward him, almost making you stumble. Your eyes widened as he leaned it, his own closed. Reflexively, you almost pulled away. 

“Relax,” you heard him whisper, too quiet for even the officiant to hear, the warm breath from his words gently caressing your mouth. But you couldn’t stop shaking. You clenched your eyes shut as he leaned in closer before feeling the skin of his thumb covering your lips. His thumb pressed against your lip for just a second before he pulled back entirely, dropping his hands back down to his sides. 

You hovered, unsure of what just happened. Did he cover your mouth for the kiss? You weren’t sure how to feel about that. On the one hand, you were admittedly relieved, not wanting your first kiss with Yoongi to be under these circumstances of obligation, and it certainly spoke to his respect for your own consent. Even though you were sure there wouldn’t be any more chances for a kiss anyway.

But a more sinister and greedy part of you wished he hadn’t shielded you, craved the soft touch of his lips against your own. You, ashamedly, wanted to share a romantic moment with him, even if it was a guise for a happy marriage. Just feeling his slightly calloused fingers grazing your cheeks was enough to leave you wanting more. 

Applause startled you out of your trance, making you turn towards the audience and plaster a smile on your face. Scanning the crowd, you spotted Hoseok clapping, sending you an encouraging smile. You breathed out, feeling minutely comforted by his sweet smile. 

Yoongi took your hand, holding it, as you began walking down the aisle. You’d practiced this yesterday, so your body was almost numb to the situation of his thumb rubbing against your forefinger. 

Almost.

A nasty thought slithered its way into the forefront of your mind.

That was the same thumb that he covered the kiss with.

As you walked down the narrow pathway, making sure to smile at the sea of guests your mother had invited, you could feel your gaze growing hazier. This was all getting to be a bit overwhelming. Your feet were hurting in the heels your mother had made you wear, the jacquard of the dress was starting to dig into your skin at the bust, the hairpins lining your hair were hurting your scalp, and the scent of Yoongi’s cologne was intoxicating. 

You and Yoongi reached the end of the aisle, walking past the doors and letting them close behind, leaving the both of you a few minutes to catch your breath before you were whisked away from the reception. Yoongi quickly separated from you, taking a water bottle from an attendant and downing almost half of it. Your hand felt cold suddenly. 

Another employee offered a water bottle to you as well, and you gratefully accepted, taking a swig immediately. The cool liquid soothed your scratchy throat, feeling it go down with it being the only thing you’d had today by way of food. The attendants then gestured for you to follow them into separate changing rooms, preparing hanboks that your parents had wanted you to wear during the reception. 

Letting the attendant dress you in the hanbok gave you time to process what had just happened. You were now married to Yoongi. You had filled out the paperwork about a week prior, but the bells and whistles of the ceremony made it feel much more real. Sighing, you took solace in the fact that the hardest bit was done. 

But was it really?

Now, you had to sit through a reception, thanking guests for coming and pretending like Yoongi actually liked you. Exchanging recycled pleasantries and fake smiles with your parents’ social circle and business partners was less than appealing. 

The employee quietly told you that she was finished and moved aside to let you look in the mirror. 

You tried to be happy about how pretty you looked, but all you could see were your bloodshot eyes and the slightly cakey makeup trying to hide your eye bags. At least the hanbok wasn’t as tight as your dress. 

Exiting the dressing room, you caught sight of Yoongi in his dark blue hanbok with white pants. He looked striking, as always, but you couldn’t find it in yourself to be starstruck at this point in the day. You just wanted to go home and lie down. You were led to the reception hall where guests were already mingling for cocktail hour while the food was being prepped to be served. 

A man whose name you didn’t know announced your arrival and the guests turned in your direction and began to clap. Yoongi grabbed your hand in his once more, the suddenness of the action making you flinch. You entered the hall, smiling and greeting guests politely. You couldn’t even recognize anyone staring back at you. 

Yoongi led you through all the guests expertly, exchanging greetings and small talk smoothly like he’d done this before. You felt like you were in a trance, repeating the same pleasantries and shallow questions. How was he so good at this?

You finally reached the end of the guests, moving to your bridal parties. You hadn’t even seen your parents, your mother was probably talking to guests herself. Joohee pulled you into a tight hug, holding it for a second longer before releasing you with a comforting smile on her face and sympathy in her eyes. The other bridesmaids didn’t bother going beyond quick congratulations, which you were grateful for. You didn’t know them anyway. Hoseok was next to Joohee, also immediately encasing you and attempting to ruffle your hair, but you moved your head out of the way. He stepped back, taking a moment to look at you before speaking. 

“You’re doing well.”

Your eyes became watery as you mustered up a shaky smile, something about him praising you for what felt like thankless effort almost pushed you over the edge, “Thanks, Hobi. Love you.”

“Love you too, always.”

“Hey, I love you too,” Joohee protested, making you bark out a laugh. 

“You’re my number one, Joo,” you smiled, taking her hands and squeezing them. She grinned widely in response before punching Hoseok in the arm. 

“Ow, what the heck,” he grumbled.

“Because I love Y/N more than you,” she responded petulantly, leaving Hoseok to only roll his eyes in response. 

The antics made you smile, giving you room to breathe in the stifling room of business partnership discussions. 

“Y/N,” Yoongi’s deep voice rumbled, making you freeze before turning to face him. His eyes laid on your figure in what felt like a scrutinizing manner, making you squirm under the heavy gaze. 

“I’d like you to meet my groomsmen,” Yoongi stated, gesturing behind him, “You already know Jin hyung.”

You nodded mutely, sending an unsure smile in Seokjin’s direction. Why was he doing this? He hadn’t bothered to introduce you to them before, why did it matter now? Were you supposed to introduce Hoseok too, then?

“This is Kim Namjoon,” Yoongi continued, moving his hand to clap the tall, dimpled man’s shoulder. The man smiled politely, the dimples faint with the minute movement, and stepped forward, putting out his hand, “Hi, I’ve known Yoongi since college. It’s nice to meet you.” 

You shook his hand, feeling quite exposed under his dragon-like eyes, “Nice to meet you too. I like your hair.” It was a rule that you’d made with yourself, to try and give at least one compliment to each new person you met. You found that it made them much more open and friendly towards you, and it didn’t hurt to receive compliments in return.

“Thanks,” Namjoon said, smile widening and deepening his dimples. His firm grasp on your hand grounded you, but you still felt your cheeks grow hot at the contact. Why were all of Yoongi’s friends so hot? “I like your hair too,” he finished. You smiled in response, pulling your hand away before your blush became too obvious. 

“This is Kim Taehyung,” Yoongi’s voice pulled you out of the stupor Namjoon’s visual put you in, “I met him a bit after college. He’s a pretty famous jazz performer.”

The model-esque man from the previous day stepped forward, rendering you speechless. Seriously, what was with this friend group? His elegant cheekbones and narrow nose perfectly complemented the kind eyes that adorned his face, and the sandy blonde hair that fell on his forehead. He quickly took your hand in his, kissing the top, making you gasp in response.

“You have beautiful eyes,” Taehyung said, his voice was a smooth baritone that sent shivers down your spine. He looked up from your hand, eyes hooded from his brow bone, making you quickly pull away at the stunning visual. 

“Thanks,” you stammered, trying to collect your thoughts, “You have a pretty smile.”

Taehyung’s face broke out into the aforementioned expression, an adorably contagious boxy smile, as he straightened up, “Thanks!”

“I actually listen to some jazz myself, though not that much,” you mentioned, wanting something to connect over, “I’ve been very into Kenny Garrett recently.”

Taehyung’s smile brightened, letting out a low chuckle, “Yes, he’s pretty great. You should come to one of my shows then, I’ll send you a ticket.”

You heard Yoongi clear his throat. 

“You and Yoongi hyung a ticket, of course,” Taehyung finished, winking at you before turning away to greet Hoseok. 

“And, lastly, this is Jeon Jeongguk. He’s the son of one of my father’s friends, so we grew up together,” Yoongi concluded, but Jeongguk interrupted. 

“Hi, noona! You look so pretty,” Jeongguk smiled, excitedly hugging you. You laughed in response, patting his back before retorting, “Thanks, you look pretty too.”

Jeongguk pulled away, laughing jovially, “Thanks! I told Yoongi hyung we already talked but I don’t think he believed me.”

You stiffened, glancing at Yoongi, whose face was impassive, “Oh, I see.”

Yoongi stepped forward, blocking Jeongguk from your sight, “And who’s your guest?”

“Oh,” you stuttered, flustered by his closer presence, “This is Hoseok. We met in college, but he lives in Busan now. Well, not for much longer, he’s looking to move here,” you rambled. 

Hoseok chuckled before placing a hand on your shoulder, “Hey, I’m Jung Hoseok. It’s nice to meet you.”

Both men shook hands before Hoseok returned to your side, “I’ve been by Y/N’s side ever since our first year, it’s a surprise I’ve lasted this long,” he finished with a short laugh. 

You elbowed him in the side, only making him grimace and slip his hand down to your waist for a teasing squeeze, “I work a dance studio in Busan but I’m planning on opening my own here.”

“Impressive,” Yoongi stated in a monotone voice, “You two must be close.”

“The closest,” Hoseok grinned, pulling you flush to his side, causing you to struggle, “We’re very familiar.”

Oh no.

That’s Hoseok’s shit-stirring voice, you knew it well. One glance at his sardonic grin had you wrestling out of his grip and trying to move on in the conversation to avoid whatever Hoseok was planning, “Yeah, we and Joohee are all really good friends. We were practically inseparable until Hoseok moved. We should all get lunch together sometime so you can get to know them better.”

“I don’t think that will be necessary,” Yoongi said, almost eerily calm, eyes set on Hoseok’s impish smile.

You deflated at his words, forgetting for a moment that Yoongi didn’t want you to mix personal lives. It was embarrassing to say the least, and you felt like you came off as desperate. You felt yourself curl inwards before muttering a quiet, “Sure.”

Yoongi sent a curt nod in Hoseok’s direction before turning away to return to his own friend group, leaving you flustered and disconcerted next to Hoseok. He grinned triumphantly before noticing your abashed state, quickly pulling you into a soothing hug. 

You pulled away, not wanting to be embarrassed anymore tonight, and reached for a passing waiter’s tray of champagne. You didn’t usually drink at public functions, but you felt like this was a worthy exception. The bubbly liquid felt necessary to get through the rest of the night, and you welcomed the warming sensation enthusiastically. You didn’t catch Hoseok’s concerned gaze nor the other stare that fell on your form from a far darker pair of eyes across the table. 

You were exhausted. Every limb in your body and your brain itself were screaming out with soreness and fatigue. It felt like a light at the end of a tunnel when guests began filing out and the party came to a close. 

You were decently buzzed, but still sober enough to be aware, from the multiple champagne glasses you drank. Joohee had made sure to keep you well hydrated, somewhat numbing the effects of the alcohol on your body. 

The rest of the reception had gone by quietly, with you and Yoongi separated for the majority of it, greeting what guests you hadn’t and barely talking during dinner. You were conflicted, somewhat grateful for the ease the lack of Yoongi’s presence gave you, but also finding yourself missing his confident aura. 

You waved the last guest out, before letting yourself collapse on a nearby chair. Joohee patted your shoulder and Hoseok wandered off to grab your belongings so that you’d be ready to go. Your mother closed the door to the room before approaching you, Yoongi’s parents in tow. 

“Yoongi,” his mother called, pulling him away from his friends who were seated at another table. He approached, arriving at your seat at the same time as your mother. 

“You’ll be going home in the car we’ve called for you,” your mother stated, leaving no room for argument. You were going to stay in Yoongi’s apartment now, “I assume your things are already there?”

You nodded timidly.

“Right, well, we’ll leave you to it. Would you like to join me and Woohyun for some drinks,” your mother asked Yoongi’s parents.

“Yes, of course, we’ll have a driver take us to your home. Yoongi, be good now,” his mother said, patting Yoongi’s shoulder and giving you a polite smile. You mustered up what you hoped was a smile in response, but you wouldn’t have been surprised if it was a grimace instead. 

Your mother offered you no goodbye and instead gathered your father and gave some closing instructions to the cleaning staff, before swiftly exiting. You were left looking at Yoongi, who was mouthing something to his friends, waiting to see what he would do.

Joohee squeezed your shoulder before leaving you to help Hoseok with your bags. Hoseok didn’t really need help as you didn’t have much except the clothes you’d arrived in and some electronics, but you could tell Joohee wanted to escape the tense atmosphere. You couldn’t blame her. 

Yoongi turned toward you, making you stand automatically to meet his gaze, “Are you ready to go?”

“Yes, let me just,” you started before being interrupted by Hoseok arriving with your bag. You chuckled awkwardly as Yoongi’s eyes narrowed, watching you take the bags from Hoseok. Joohee was next to him, fiddling with her phone in an effort to not engage, you assumed. 

“Are you leaving,” Hoseok asked, to which you nodded in response, “Well, have fun. Call me anytime, I’ll always be there.” He pulled you into a hug, making you melt in his embrace. You soon felt Joohee’s arms wrap around you as well, “Me too, we’ll talk later.” They released you before giving you encouraging smiles. You couldn’t say you felt the same level of confidence. 

Facing Yoongi, you gathered your bags, noting his one bag at his side, likely containing his suit. He nodded curtly at Hoseok and Joohee, who waved in response, before turning on his heel and walking towards the door. You stumbled after him, waving a messy goodbye to Hoseok and Joohee, and finally catching up to Yoongi holding the door open for you. You tried to muster a grateful nod, but seeing his cold expression, you moved quickly to get out the door. 

Awaiting your arrival outside was a sleek, black car, with a chauffeur standing patiently holding the door open to the backseat. You took a quick glance at Yoongi, who gestured for you to enter first, so you did, leaving your bags sitting outside. Yoongi climbed in afterward, quietly asking the driver to put the luggage in the trunk. The two of you sat in silence, waiting for the driver to finish packing the luggage away. 

It was finally over.

Somehow, it didn’t feel that way. The relief you’d hoped to feel was nowhere to be found and you were left with only the biting anxiety that Yoongi’s silence incited. You played mindlessly with the seams of your hanbok, finding it slightly uncomfortable to sit in the backseat with. Yoongi didn’t seem to share the same discomfort, scrolling idly on his phone and not acknowledging your presence. 

You wished you could do the same, but you’d left your phone in your bag after not having used it all day. Instead, you turned to the scenery outside your window to keep yourself occupied. The driver soon started up the car and began heading to Yoongi’s apartment. Watching the scenery fly by gave you time to think about what was waiting for you there. 

You hadn’t visited Yoongi’s apartment yet, too afraid and uncomfortable to set foot inside a space so truly and specially his. Most of your things from your own apartment were apparently already set up, courtesy of his maid, Mrs. Lim, whom you had been in contact with when you first dropped off your things. You had been in a rush, trying to get to a dress fitting, and Mrs. Lim had insisted that you give everything to her and that she would make sure it would be ready for you when you came. 

You supposed now was that time. 

Yoongi was still silent beside you and you weren’t sure what to say to him. You hadn’t really spoken for the rest of the night after his odd introduction to Hoseok. It frustrated you how the little things he was doing kept messing with your head. 

You weren’t an idiot, you knew that his actions could point toward jealousy, but you refused to consider that as a possibility. Not only would it contradict his entire attitude towards you, but you couldn’t allow yourself to feel even a sliver of hope that Yoongi might harbor feelings toward you. The constant self-regulation was taxing and you dreaded the idea that this would be your future, constantly reminding yourself that your husband doesn’t love you and to not get confused. 

Your thoughts halted with the car as the driver pulled into the entrance of the large building that housed Yoongi’s apartment. It was dark, so you gladly accepted the help of the chauffeur in getting out of the car. He kindly handed you your bags before bowing and driving away. You didn’t have access to the building yet, having called Mrs. Lim for your past visits, so you looked helplessly at Yoongi to unlock the door. 

He didn’t spare you a glance as he punched in his code and stood aside to let you in. You nodded in thanks anyway and shivered at the cold nipping at your cheeks. Yoongi led you to the elevator, pressing the 9th-floor button, silently standing in the opposite corner from you. 

Sighing internally, you almost laughed at the blatant display of the contempt he held for you. For the first time, you thought of him as slightly immature. 

The elevator doors slid open and Yoongi led you to a hallway with only four doors, each housing a penthouse apartment. The farthest door was Yoongi’s, you learned, as he held his thumb up to the pad before hearing a click and pushing the door open. Mrs. Lim was immediately there to greet him. 

“Mr. Min, let me take your things. Oh, Ms. Seo! Here, I’ll take your bags to your room. Wait, should I call you Mrs. Min, now?”

You smiled at the sweet, older woman, nodding your greeting, “Hi, Mrs. Lim. Please, just call me Y/N.”

She smiled at you, taking your things and rushing off to the upstairs portion of the apartment. It left you standing awkwardly next to Yoongi, who was typing something out on his phone. You took the moment to let your eyes wander around the sparkling apartment. It looked straight out of a catalogue with cool tones and neat furniture with an open concept. He had smooth, black leather couches surrounding a large TV with a path into a dining room that housed a large table and comfortable-looking chairs. That was next to a large kitchen with a wide counter in the middle and a sleek, silver refrigerator and oven. It looked nice, but not welcoming. You preferred warmer lighting and more touches of color, with some plants, but you reminded yourself that this wasn’t your space to customize.

Or was it? You weren’t really sure. It felt like you were invading Yoongi’s home, but wasn’t it your home now too? Should you be able to decorate it to your liking as well? Or at least compromise? The thought of addressing that now felt too overwhelming and you didn’t want to piss off Yoongi so early into your stay. 

“You can go change and get ready to sleep. We can discuss the ground rules now or tomorrow morning, your choice,” Yoongi said, snapping you out of your observation of the apartment. 

You nodded absently, wondering what other rules he had, “I can come down after changing.”

Yoongi hummed in response before taking off to the stairs, evidently going to change himself. You stood awkwardly by the entrance, not knowing exactly where your room was, and decided to take hesitant steps toward the stairs. 

“Oh, Ms. Seo, let me help you to your room,” came Mrs. Lim’s comforting voice from the top of the stairs. You gratefully accepted her help and followed her through the halls as she gave you a tour. 

“Over there is Mr. Min’s office, and just next to it, his bedroom. He has another office downstairs for his work, this one is more for personal use. There’s a bathroom here, but you have an en-suite bathroom in your bedroom anyway. There’s an extra room downstairs that I’ve fashioned into a bit of an office for you if you’d like to use it. That’s the guest bedroom there, the hallway bathroom is mainly for that one. Sometimes Mr. Min’s friends will stay over if they’ve drunk. Ah! Here’s your bedroom.”

You entered, enjoying Mrs. Lim’s chattering as she gave you a mini tour. Your bedroom was large with a queen-sized bed and soft-looking sheets with a fluffy comforter. There was a desk in the corner and a vanity in the other. You noted a door on the side that must lead to the bathroom, and your bags sitting on the floor by the desk. 

“Through that door is your closet and bathroom. I’ve set up your closet for the most part and tried to make it homey, but please feel free to decorate it to your liking! I’m so excited to have another woman here long term, Mr. Min doesn’t always make for great company. Oh, but don’t tell him I said that!”

You giggled, enjoying the motherly presence Mrs. Lim provided, and began unpacking some of your bags from the day, “Thank you, Mrs. Lim. I appreciate you doing all this for me. And please, call me Y/N.”

“Of course. Do you need assistance getting out of your hanbok?”

“No, I think I’ll be alright, thank you.”

“Right, then I’ll leave you to it. I’ll be off shift now so I’ll be heading home, but please feel free to call me if you have any questions.”

“Of course, thank you, Mrs. Lim. Have a good night.”

She bowed before exiting and you breathed out, sitting on the plush bed, making the comforter balloon around you. The room was nice, definitely, but it felt a bit stale and unwelcoming. At least you could customize this area without having to worry about Yoongi. You opened the door to the closet, marveling at the size and open entrance into the bathroom with a large tub and shower. Your clothes were nicely organized and you had no trouble finding some pajamas to change into with an old shirt you’d stolen from Hoseok and shorts. 

Quickly undressing, you neatly hung up your hanbok and slipped into the shower, grabbing the necessary toiletries from your bag. You relished in being able to wash the hair spray out of your hair and loosen it from your scalp, glaring at the pile of hairpins that sat on the granite counter you’d spent upwards of five minutes removing. The warm water soothed your aching legs and the soapy bodywash felt rejuvenating. 

You swiftly finished showering, not wanting to keep Yoongi waiting, and wrapped yourself in a towel before loosely drying your hair. You preferred to let it air dry, so you only lightly patted it with a towel. Drying off the rest of your body, you donned new undergarments, pausing on whether or not to put on a bra. You usually didn’t wear bras to bed, but you didn’t want to go down to meet Yoongi braless. 

You almost laughed at the ridiculousness of the situation and pulled on a comfortable sports bra, before slipping on your shorts and t-shirt, finally feeling comfortable. Quickly checking your reflection in the massive mirror, you headed down the stairs to meet Yoongi. 

He was sitting on the leather couch in a loose white t-shirt and black sweatpants, almost taking your breath away at how beautifully casual he looked. You’d only seen him in suits so far and seeing him in loungewear with wet hair and a towel around his neck left you flustered. He noticed your presence, eyes running over your form making you feel embarrassed. 

He gestured for you to join him on the couch, setting aside his phone to lean forward on his knees. You sat on the loveseat across from him, not quite sure what the etiquette was at this point. 

“Okay, so I’ve already told you the general rules I have. Basically, don’t enter my space without knocking and please, do not go into my upstairs office. I’ll do the same for you. You’re free to set up your rooms however you like.”

You nodded, all of this seemed pretty fair so far. 

“You can use the kitchen however you like, just let Mrs. Lim know what groceries you want. If I have guests over, I’d prefer if you stayed in your room, but I won’t force you. This space is as much yours as it is mine, now.”

You continued nodding along, making some notes of getting a TV for your room so you could properly entertain yourself when his friends were over. You wouldn’t exactly want him coming into the room when you’re with Hoseok and Joohee either. 

“You can invite your friends over whenever you want, just let me know in advance. I’ll be sure to do the same for you. Also, if I have any of my own partners over,” he continued, the last words causing you to flinch, “I’ll make sure to let you know. Please just give us some privacy and try not to be out in the common space when they’re here. Of course, I’ll extend the same courtesy.”

The harsh reminder of the openness of the marriage left you squirming in the chair. You didn’t want to remember that Yoongi would be fucking other people in the home you shared. 

“We can add things as we get used to living together. Anything you want to add?”

You shook your head quickly, just wanting to go to bed as soon as possible. Yoongi nodded, rising, before sparing you one last glance.

“Alright, goodnight then.”

“Goodnight,” you squeaked, watching him ascend the stairs. After his form disappeared into the hallway, you leaned back on the loveseat, exhaling harshly. What a conversation. You’d have to take some time to get used to this. You returned to your room feeling heavily conflicted. As you set up your phone and watch chargers, you thought over the conversation. 

Objectively, Yoongi was being relatively fair, letting you exist in the space in the same capacity as him. Yet, you still felt unhappy. You knew why. You wanted him to be only yours, to have the same exclusive outlook you did on the relationship. You were upset with yourself more than him. 

He had made this clear from the beginning, that he had no intention of stopping any partners outside of the relationship. He clearly didn’t want to have a relationship with you, sex or not, so what he was doing now was completely fair.

You couldn’t turn the emotional part of your brain that craved to have a real romantic relationship with him. It was almost annoying and you were frustrated at yourself for continuing to feel this way. 

Climbing into bed, you continued wallowing, deciding that you’d pity yourself tonight, but the next day, you’d have to pull yourself together. You’d taken a couple of weeks off at the insistence of your boss, even though he knew you weren’t going on a honeymoon, and you wanted to enjoy sleeping in. 

It was time to adopt Yoongi’s approach and try to remove yourself emotionally from the situation. How hard could it be?

Yoongi couldn’t focus on his book, ultimately setting it aside on his bedside table. He furiously rubbed at his eyes, feeling frustrated. 

His eyes hadn’t been listening to him lately. They seemed to constantly wander after your figure, finding your face and curves at every corner. The past couple of days, they had barely strayed from you, watching as you cuddled up to that man, Hoseok. 

Who was he? Were you two together? Was Hoseok in love with you? More importantly, why did it bother Yoongi so much? 

He groaned, feeling annoyed that your relationship with Hoseok was getting to him so much. He had been the one to set the boundary of it being an open relationship, so why did it bother him so much that you seemed to be employing that? Yoongi knew that he had no right to feel this way and was only further annoyed that he continued to do so. 

And what was with your budding friendship with Jeongguk? When did you two become so close? Yoongi buried his head in his hands, shouldn’t he be happy that his friends and wife are getting along?

Wife. It felt odd to say, or think, that. You were his wife now. Except he’d made it clear that the title didn’t change anything between you, nor would it change his actions. Despite his earlier resolve to not let this marriage affect him, you seemed to be having a great effect on him. 

He’d followed your form and mannerisms throughout the past couple of days. He’d noticed your trembling hands and avoiding eye contact. When the two of you had been about to kiss, he could feel your body shaking beneath his hands, prompting him to cover your mouth for the kiss. 

He hated how tempted he’d been to fully kiss you.

Throughout the rest of the ceremony and reception, you’d been largely withdrawn, until you’d met with Hoseok. Yoongi was frustrated that you didn’t seem to be able to stand up for yourself, that you played so well into the role of a trophy wife, but he’d been even more upset at your close contact with Hoseok. 

The man had laid his hands on you so easily and seeing the way Hoseok’s fingers curled around your waist and your smile when you talked to him made Yoongi’s blood boil. Why hadn’t you smiled at him like that? 

Yoongi bit his lip, he knew that wasn’t your fault. He hadn’t been welcoming at all to you, he’d barely given you a chance to talk to him. Yoongi was just steadfast in his mission to continue on with life as normal, he didn’t want this marriage to change anything. He knew it wasn’t fair of him to be upset with you going along with his requests. 

You were dangerous. 

You were dangerous in the way that you nodded along to everything Yoongi asked, in the way you refused to let your mask slip and show any emotion, in the way you smiled so brightly with Hoseok and Jeongguk, in the way your cheeks tinged pink when Taehyung kissed your hand and Namjoon smiled at you, and in the way you looked so comfortable and natural in your pajamas. 

Yoongi had to suck in a breath when he saw you entering the living room with your freshly washed and damp hair, falling in wet curls strands around your shoulders, making a wet spot on the oversized dance team t-shirt. 

That was another thing. Where had you gotten that shirt? It was far too big for you, Yoongi knew that well. It was obvious in the way it fell past the hem of your shorts, tantalizing his eyes to rake down your legs, and it was for a college dance team. Were you on one in college?

Or, Yoongi’s mind raced, was it Hoseok’s? Hadn’t the man said he worked in a dance studio? The thought made Yoongi fume, just how close had you two gotten? 

But he paused, what right did he have to feel upset? Yoongi had been in bed with another woman just days ago, it wasn’t fair of him to judge you for doing the same. He’d said that you were allowed to sleep with or date whoever you wanted, so why was he so angry at the idea of you and Hoseok? 

Another sigh escaped him, he didn’t have it in him to deal with this tonight. Just the idea of you a few rooms down in that too-big shirt and too-short shorts was enough to drive him crazy. 

He reached over, turning off the lamp next to his bed. He’d unpack his feelings in the morning. Yoongi turned over, settling into bed, ignoring how empty and cold his hand felt without your warmth. 

previous / masterlist / next

[cherryxbooo]

May I please request a fic where the female reader is an FBI agent and former Marine who has a reputation for being tenacious and tough and she runs into the LAPD while working on a case, reuniting with Tim whom she has a passionate history with?

Just like old times

Summary: Y/N, an FBI agent, reunites with her former lover, Tim Bradford, while working on a dangerous case with the LAPD. Their chemistry rekindles, and after the case, their relationship is revealed, sparking curiosity among Tim’s coworkers.

Note: First of all, I want to thank all of you for all the support you showed me on my last few fics. It means a lot, thank you so much 🫶🤞Thank you for your request, I gave it my own little spin so I hope you like it! Enjoy 🤍

Reader x Tim Bradford

Genre: Fluff/tiny bit of angst (if you squint lol)

The police station buzzed with the usual chaos: phones ringing, officers shuffling through files, and the occasional banter to lighten the tension of their work.

But the air shifted when the captain’s door opened, revealing Commander Grey alongside a woman in an impeccably tailored suit.

The first thing people noticed about her wasn’t her striking appearance, though that was undeniable.

It was the way she carried herself; shoulders squared, gaze sharp, exuding an air of authority and control.

It was the look of someone who had seen the worst humanity had to offer and lived to tell the tale.

“Who’s that?” Jackson West muttered to Lucy Chen as they leaned against the edge of their desks.

“No idea,” Lucy replied, narrowing her eyes at the mysterious newcomer. “But she screams FBI.”

Angela Lopez walked up, crossing her arms. “She doesn’t just scream it, she’s it. Look at the badge on her belt.”

“Great,” Lucy said under her breath. “Another suit to look down on us.”

As the whispers spread, Tim Bradford entered the bullpen, his usual brisk and no-nonsense demeanor firmly in place.

His sharp eyes scanned the room, narrowing when he caught sight of the figure beside Grey.

For the first time in what felt like forever, Tim froze mid-step.

It was you.

The last time Tim Bradford had seen you, the two of you had been tangled in a mess of emotions.

It was a heated goodbye neither of you wanted but both knew was necessary.

You had been on the fast track, transitioning from your time in the Marines to the FBI with an ambition he respected but couldn’t keep up with.

He was a police officer with roots too deep to pull up, and your career demanded a level of movement and detachment that didn’t fit into his world.

The chemistry between you had been undeniable, volatile at times, but magnetic.

When you were together, it was like nothing else existed. But the breakup wasn’t ugly; it was bittersweet.

You’d left with mutual respect and more than a little unresolved tension.

And now, years later, you were back.

“Bradford!” Grey’s voice snapped him out of his daze. “I need you for this.”

Tim approached, his expression unreadable, though the quick flicker of surprise in his eyes didn’t escape you.

You tilted your head slightly, a small smirk tugging at your lips.

“Sergeant Bradford,” you said smoothly, your voice carrying the same confident edge he remembered.

“Agent Y/L/N,” he replied evenly, his tone giving nothing away.

“Wait,” Lucy whispered loudly to Angela and Jackson, “he knows her?!”

The case was a high-stakes operation that had everyone on edge. For months, the LAPD had been chasing leads on a sprawling human trafficking ring operating across state lines.

The criminals were highly organized, using fake businesses and offshore accounts to cover their tracks, and their connections ran deep, involving corrupt officials and dangerous enforcers.

Every lead the LAPD pursued seemed to hit a dead end. Frustration was mounting, especially for Tim Bradford, whose no-nonsense approach had been tested by the complexity of the operation.

The captain had finally called in a favor with the FBI, hoping a fresh perspective and federal resources could turn the tide.

That’s when they sent you.

When Commander Grey introduced you as the FBI agent assigned to the case, the bullpen had gone silent.

Your reputation had preceded you, not just as a skilled investigator but as a former Marine who was known for your grit and relentless pursuit of justice.

Tim’s coworkers were impressed, though they couldn’t help but notice the palpable tension between you and the sergeant.

“We’ve been tracking this network for years,” you explained during the initial briefing, clicking through a presentation of maps, photos, and suspect profiles.

“They use legitimate businesses,restaurants, shipping companies, as fronts for their operations. They’ve been moving people through LA under the radar, and we believe this city is a critical hub in their network.”

Lucy Chen leaned forward, studying one of the photos. “How are they avoiding detection?”

“Fake documents, forged permits, and insider help,” you said grimly.

“We suspect they have someone on the inside tipping them off. That’s why every move we make has to be airtight.”

Tim, seated at the back of the room, crossed his arms. “And what’s the endgame here? Arrest a few mid-level operatives while the bosses disappear?”

You met his gaze evenly. “The goal is to dismantle the entire network. That means taking down everyone, from the enforcers on the ground to the kingpins running the show.”

The room fell silent, the weight of the task settling over the team.

As the precinct buzzed with the aftermath of the sting operation's success, the atmosphere began to lighten.

Officers filtered out one by one, their weariness mingled with satisfaction.

You were seated at a table with a pile of paperwork, methodically logging the details of the operation, when Tim approached, his face unreadable but his presence grounding.

“Looks like the big bad FBI agent has paperwork too,” he teased, setting down a mug of coffee next to you.

“Don’t think for a second you’re exempt, Bradford,” you shot back, smirking as you gestured toward his own untouched stack of forms.

“Or is LAPD above such mundane tasks?”

“Not a chance,” he quipped, pulling out a chair and settling beside you.

Your easy banter didn’t go unnoticed. Lucy and Angela exchanged a curious glance from across the bullpen, while Jackson leaned closer to Nolan, whispering something that made him grin.

Eventually, Angela couldn’t resist. She sauntered over, her arms crossed and an amused expression on her face.

“So,” Angela began, dragging out the word. “How exactly do you two know each other?”

Tim stiffened slightly, though he didn’t look up from the file he was reviewing.

“Work,” he said curtly, clearly trying to shut down the conversation.

You arched an eyebrow at his abruptness but decided to play along. “We’ve crossed paths before,” you said vaguely, keeping your tone neutral.

Angela wasn’t satisfied. “Crossed paths? That’s it? Because the two of you seem awfully... in sync.”

Lucy, unable to resist joining in, pulled up a chair.

“Yeah, it’s like you’re finishing each other’s sentences out there. Spill. Is this some FBI-Marine/army secret society thing?”

Tim finally glanced up, his expression a mixture of exasperation and amusement. “We’ve worked together before. End of story.”

“Oh, come on, Bradford,” Nolan chimed in, grinning. “You can’t just drop breadcrumbs and expect us not to follow.”

You exchanged a glance with Tim, silently communicating whether or not to indulge them.

His slight shake of the head told you all you needed to know: he wasn’t about to open up. Still, you decided to throw them a bone.

“Let’s just say Tim and I have some shared history in... high-stress situations,” you said, your tone deliberately cryptic.

Lucy’s eyes lit up. “Oh, like what? You were partners? Rivals?”

“Or lovers?” Angela added slyly, clearly enjoying Tim’s discomfort.

Tim shot her a sharp look. “Focus on your own love life, Lopez.”

“Oh, relax,” Angela said, waving a hand. “We’re just curious. It’s not every day we see you get along with someone.”

You bit back a laugh, deciding to rescue him. “It’s complicated, okay? And classified.”

That seemed to satisfy them... For now.

They dispersed, though you caught them glancing back occasionally, whispering among themselves.

Tim let out a low sigh, running a hand through his hair.

“Classified?” he echoed, a smirk tugging at his lips.

“You’re welcome,” you replied with a wink, returning to your paperwork.

Later that evening, when the station was nearly empty, Tim and you were left alone to tie up loose ends.

The earlier teasing lingered in the air, but now it felt like a private joke between the two of you.

“You think they’ll let it go?” you asked, leaning back in your chair.

“Not a chance,” Tim said dryly. “Lopez will probably turn it into a guessing game, and Chen will dig through every detail of my life.”

You chuckled. “They seem like a good group.”

“They are,” Tim admitted, his voice softening. “Annoying, but good.”

There was a brief pause, then he looked at you with a hint of a smile. “Thanks for handling that back there.”

You shrugged. “Part of the job, Bradford. I’ve got your six, remember?”

His expression shifted, something more serious flickering in his eyes. “I know you do. Always have.”

You held his gaze for a moment longer, the weight of his words settling over you like a warm blanket.

Then, with a faint smile, you nudged his stack of paperwork toward him.

“Now finish your reports, Sergeant,” you teased.

The morning after your arrival at the station, you found yourself in the briefing room, surrounded by Tim and his team.

The station buzzed with an energy you hadn’t felt since your days in the Marines.

As a former Marine turned FBI agent, you were used to commanding respect and navigating high-pressure situations.

Today, though, you were walking into a hornet’s nest.

Grey stood at the front of the room, the case details projected on the screen behind him.

“Alright, people, listen up. We’re working with Agent Y/L/N on this one, so I expect full cooperation.”

Your name was enough to draw a few looks, especially after yesterday’s whispers about your connection to Tim.

You stayed professional, though, your expression unreadable as Grey continued.

“The target is Ethan Marlow,” Grey said, gesturing to a mugshot on the screen.

A rugged man with a scar across his cheek and an unmistakable smirk stared back at the room.

“Suspected arms dealer. We’ve been trying to nail him for months, but he’s slippery. Last week, we got a tip that he’s planning a major shipment through the Los Angeles docks.”

You stepped forward, holding a remote to switch slides.

“Marlow’s operation is large, but he’s not untouchable. My team and I have been tracking his movements across state lines, and we believe his associates are using a shell company to smuggle weapons through legitimate cargo shipments.”

Lucy raised her hand. “Why not just hit the docks and seize the cargo?”

“Because Marlow doesn’t work alone,” you replied, flipping to a map that highlighted his network.

“His associates are just as dangerous, and if we spook them, they’ll scatter. We need to cut off the head of the operation. That means Marlow.”

Tim’s eyes flicked to you, his brows furrowing slightly.

He wasn’t used to taking orders from anyone, but he respected competence. And you? You radiated it.

Angela chimed in. “What’s our play?”

You glanced at her, then looked back at the team.

“Marlow’s hosting a private party at a nightclub downtown tonight. It’s our best shot at getting close to him.”

“Undercover?” Nolan asked, leaning forward.

You nodded. “Exactly. We’ve got a cover story and fake identities for two officers. You’ll mingle, gather intel, and plant a tracker on Marlow’s vehicle.”

Tim leaned back in his chair, arms crossed. “And who’s going in?”

You paused, meeting his gaze directly.

“You and I.”

The room seemed to hold its breath. Tim’s lips quirked into a faint smirk, his demeanor calm despite the weight of your suggestion.

Angela raised an eyebrow. “Well, this just got interesting.”

As the team dispersed to prepare for the operation, you caught up with Tim in the hallway.

The sound of your boots echoed against the tiled floor as you fell into step beside him.

“Was that a problem?” you asked, glancing up at him.

He shrugged. “Nope. Just wondering how you managed to finagle me into this.”

A sly smile curved your lips. “Thought you’d appreciate the chance to dress up.”

Tim chuckled, low and warm. “You’ve got jokes.”

There was a pause as you both walked in companionable silence.

Memories of your past flashed unbidden in your mind, the long nights on stakeouts, the adrenaline-fueled moments of action, and the quieter times, when his touch was all you needed to feel safe.

“Remember the first time we worked together?” you asked softly.

Tim glanced at you, his expression softening. “Yeah. That drug bust in San Diego. You saved my ass.”

“You were pinned down,” you reminded him, smirking. “I didn’t have a choice.”

He shook his head, his voice quieter. “You didn’t hesitate. Not once.”

“It’s what we do,” you said simply, though your heart warmed at the admiration in his voice.

Tim stopped walking, turning to face you. “Y/N... what happened with us... back then—I never really got a chance to explain.”

You held up a hand, cutting him off gently. “Tim, it’s okay. We both had our reasons.”

“But you’re here now,” he said, his voice steady. “That’s what matters.”

For a moment, the unspoken history between you hung in the air, a tangible thread connecting the past to the present.

Then, the sound of a door opening down the hall broke the moment, and you both fell back into step.

Later that evening, you stood in front of the mirror, adjusting your earpiece and smoothing out the sleek black dress you’d chosen for the undercover op.

Tim emerged from the adjacent room, his suit perfectly tailored, exuding confidence. His gaze flicked to you, lingering a beat too long.

“Looking good, Agent,” he remarked, his voice teasing but low enough to send a shiver down your spine.

“You clean up nicely yourself, Bradford,” you replied, adjusting his tie.

As you rode to the nightclub together, the tension in the air was palpable, not the bad kind, but the kind that made your pulse quicken and your senses sharpen.

You exchanged glances, each silently acknowledging the trust you’d built through years of working together.

Inside the club, the operation went off smoothly, at least at first. You and Tim played your parts to perfection, your chemistry undeniable as you mingled with the crowd.

Marlow was sharp, but not sharp enough to see through your cover. It wasn’t until a hiccup in the plan, a sudden appearance of Marlow’s enforcers, that things took a dangerous turn.

The nightclub pulsed with the heavy bass of music, its dim lighting and crowded space creating an almost oppressive atmosphere.

You navigated the sea of people with ease, Tim trailing behind you as you both subtly scanned for your target.

Marlow was seated in a VIP booth, surrounded by his entourage, his laughter echoing through the space.

Tim leaned closer to your ear, his voice low and steady. “We’ve got eyes on him. What’s the play?”

You turned slightly, catching his intense gaze in the neon glow. “I’ll distract him. You plant the tracker.”

His jaw tightened. “You sure about that?”

“Tim,” you said, your tone firm. “I’ve done this a hundred times.”

“That doesn’t mean I like it,” he muttered, but he didn’t argue further.

Adjusting your posture, you approached Marlow’s booth with the confidence of someone who belonged.

His eyes flicked to you immediately, a sly grin spreading across his face as he motioned for you to come closer.

“Well, well,” he said, his voice thick with amusement. “Who do we have here?”

You gave him a coy smile, slipping into character. “Someone who heard you’re the man to know in this town.”

As you spoke, you felt Tim’s presence nearby, his movements precise as he maneuvered around the booth.

The tension in your shoulders eased slightly, until one of Marlow’s men, a bulky enforcer with a sharp gaze, stood abruptly, his eyes narrowing on Tim.

“Who’s this guy?” the enforcer barked, his voice cutting through the din.

Tim didn’t miss a beat. “Relax. I’m just here to grab a drink.”

The enforcer didn’t look convinced. Marlow waved a hand, his focus still on you. “He’s fine. Sit down.”

Tim used the distraction to slide the tracker beneath the table, his hand steady despite the close proximity of Marlow’s crew.

You kept the conversation light, your laughter carefully timed, your every move calculated to keep the target’s attention on you.

But just as you thought you were in the clear, Marlow’s phone buzzed.

He glanced at it, his expression shifting to one of suspicion. “Excuse me for a moment.”

He stood abruptly, motioning for his men to follow.

Your heart raced as you exchanged a look with Tim, both of you realizing the same thing: something was off.

As Marlow disappeared into a back room, you and Tim quickly regrouped.

“He’s onto us,” Tim said, his voice low but urgent.

“We need to pull out,” you replied, scanning the room for the nearest exit.

Before you could move, one of Marlow’s men appeared, his gun drawn. The tension in the air snapped like a live wire.

Tim stepped in front of you instinctively, his stance protective.

“Easy,” Tim said, his tone calm but authoritative. “We’re just leaving.”

The man didn’t budge, his finger twitching near the trigger. You acted quickly, your Marine instincts kicking in as you disarmed him with a swift, calculated movement.

The gun clattered to the floor, and chaos erupted.

Tim grabbed your hand, pulling you through the panicked crowd as more of Marlow’s men gave chase.

The music and flashing lights blurred into a cacophony of sound and color as you navigated the crowded dance floor, your adrenaline surging.

“Out the back!” Tim shouted, his grip on your hand firm.

You burst through the back exit, the cool night air hitting your skin like a shock.

Tim covered you as you drew your weapon, both of you taking defensive positions as Marlow’s men spilled into the alley.

Shots rang out, the sharp crack of gunfire echoing in the narrow space.

By the time backup arrived, the scene was secured, and Marlow’s operation was compromised.

You stood with Tim in the aftermath, both of you catching your breath as you surveyed the chaos.

“You okay?” Tim asked, his voice steady despite the adrenaline still pumping through his veins.

“I’m fine,” you replied, though your hands were still trembling slightly. “You?”

“I’m good,” he said, his eyes lingering on you. “You didn’t have to jump in like that.”

You gave him a wry smile. “What? And let you play hero? Not a chance.”

His lips twitched into a small grin, but the concern in his gaze remained. “You scared the hell out of me back there.”

Before you could respond, Captain Grey approached, his expression a mix of relief and frustration. “Nice work, Agent Y/L/N. But next time, let’s try to avoid a full-blown shootout.”

“Noted,” you said, nodding.

Back at the station, the air surrounded with residual energy from the operation.

As everyone debriefed, Lucy sidled up to Angela, her eyes flicking between you and Tim, who were standing a little too close for professional comfort.

“Okay, what’s the deal with them?” Lucy whispered.

Angela smirked. “I don’t know, but I’m dying to find out.”

Nolan, ever the curious one, joined in. “You think they’ve really worked together before?”

“Obviously,” Angela said, her tone teasing. “But there’s definitely more to it.”

Harper chimed in, her arms crossed as she observed from a distance. “They’ve got history. You can see it.”

As the group speculated, Tim and you shared a glance, both aware of the unspoken questions hanging in the air.

For now, though, you kept your history, and the rekindled spark between you, to yourselves.

Later that evening, after the precinct had quieted down, you and Tim found yourselves in the dimly lit briefing room, both reviewing reports from the operation.

The silence between you wasn’t uncomfortable, it was thick with unspoken words, lingering tension, and the familiarity of years past.

Tim glanced up from his file, his voice breaking the quiet. “You were incredible out there today.”

You smirked, not looking up from your notes. “I know.”

He chuckled, the sound low and warm. “Still as humble as ever, I see.”

Setting your pen down, you met his gaze, your expression softening. “Coming from you, I’ll take that as a compliment.”

There was a beat of silence before he spoke again, his tone turning more serious.

“You scared me back there, you know. When that guy pulled the gun.”

“I’ve been in worse situations,” you said with a small shrug, trying to downplay it.

“Doesn’t make it easier to watch,” he replied, his jaw tightening.

The vulnerability in his voice caught you off guard.

You leaned back in your chair, folding your arms. “Tim, I’ve been doing this a long time. I know the risks.”

“I know you do,” he said, his voice quieter now. “But that doesn’t mean I’m okay with you putting yourself in the line of fire.”

“Funny,” you said, tilting your head. “That’s exactly how I felt about you the last time we worked together.”

He didn’t respond immediately, his eyes searching yours as if trying to gauge how much of the past you were willing to bring up.

Finally, he leaned forward, resting his forearms on the table. “And how did that work out for you?”

You gave him a pointed look. “Not great, Bradford. You have a way of making people care whether they want to or not.”

His lips quirked into a faint smile. “Same could be said for you.”

The words hung between you, heavy with the weight of everything left unsaid.

A few hours later, after the station had emptied out, Tim offered to drive you back to your temporary FBI accommodations.

The ride was quiet at first, the hum of the engine filling the space.

“Still driving this beast?” you teased, gesturing to his truck.

He grinned. “Reliable. Like me.”

You snorted. “Debatable.”

As the truck came to a stop outside your building, he shifted in his seat to face you. “Listen, I’ve been thinking…”

“That sounds dangerous,” you quipped, trying to lighten the mood.

He didn’t laugh. Instead, he reached for your hand, his touch gentle but firm. “I’ve missed you, Y/N. Not just working with you. You.”

Your breath caught, the sincerity in his eyes nearly undoing you. “Tim…”

“I know we didn’t end things the way we wanted,” he continued, his voice steady but soft. “But seeing you again… it’s like no time has passed. And I can’t ignore it anymore.”

You looked down at your intertwined hands, your heart racing. “Tim, this job… our lives… nothing’s simple.”

“I’m not asking for simple,” he said, his tone resolute. “I’m asking for you. Whatever that looks like.”

The words hit you like a punch to the gut, raw and honest in a way you weren’t sure you were ready for.

But as you looked at him, his expression equal parts hopeful and vulnerable, you realized that maybe you were.

The next day, you arrived at the station to find Tim waiting for you, two cups of coffee in hand.

He handed you one without a word, his fingers brushing against yours.

The small gesture sent a spark through you, a silent acknowledgment of the conversation you’d had the night before.

As you worked through the details of the case, the team’s curiosity about your relationship with Tim only grew.

Lucy, ever the inquisitive one, cornered you during a quiet moment.

“So,” she began, her tone casual but her eyes sharp. “You and Tim—what’s the story there?”

You smirked, taking a sip of your coffee. “You’ll have to ask him.”

When Lucy relayed this to Angela, Nolan, and Harper, it only fueled their determination.

During a briefing, Nolan couldn’t help but ask outright. “How exactly do you two know each other?”

Tim shot him a look that could wither a cactus. “Not your business, Nolan.”

Angela leaned back in her chair, smirking. “Interesting. Usually, you’re a lot less… protective.”

“Drop it,” Tim said, his tone leaving no room for argument. But the subtle way his eyes flicked to you didn’t go unnoticed.

Later, after the team had dispersed, you found Tim waiting for you by your car.

He leaned against it, his arms crossed, his expression unreadable.

“You okay?” you asked, approaching him.

He nodded, then gestured for you to come closer. When you did, he pulled you into a quick, fierce hug, the suddenness of it catching you off guard.

Not expecting the cold, grumpy Tim Bradford to behave this way.

“What’s that for?” you asked, your voice muffled against his chest.

“Just wanted to,” he said simply, his tone soft.

As you stood there in the quiet of the parking lot, you realized that while the job might be dangerous and the past might be complicated, having Tim by your side made it all feel a little less daunting.

The next morning, you arrived at the station to find Tim already in the war room.

He stood in front of a large board covered with photos, timelines, and maps, his focus intense.

It was a scene you were familiar with, Tim Bradford in full mission mode.

“Morning,” you said, stepping inside with a coffee in hand.

He turned, his expression softening when he saw you. “Morning. Got started early.”

“I can see that.” You handed him a second coffee. “Figured you might need this.”

He took it with a small smile. “You know me too well.”

You shrugged, feigning nonchalance. “Old habits die hard.”

The two of you stood side by side, going over the latest developments in the case.

The criminal organization you were tracking was sophisticated, with layers of secrecy and a network of loyal operatives.

It was the kind of operation that required precision, patience, and trust.

“I think they’re using the docks as a secondary drop point,” you said, tapping a location on the map.

“We need to get eyes on it, but we can’t tip them off.”

Tim nodded. “Agreed. Harper and I can run surveillance. You and Nolan can follow up on the warehouse lead.”

You raised an eyebrow. “Nolan? You’re pairing me with a rookie?”

“He’s not a rookie anymore,” Tim replied, smirking. “And I trust him.”

“Fine,” you said, pretending to grumble. “But if he slows me down, I’m holding you personally responsible.”

Tim chuckled. “Noted.”

As the day progressed, the rest of the team couldn’t help but notice the easy rapport between you and Tim.

Lucy, always perceptive, leaned over to Angela as the two of you passed by.

“They’re definitely hiding something,” she whispered.

“Obviously,” Angela replied. “But what? They act like they’ve known each other forever.”

Harper, overhearing the conversation, chimed in. “Whatever it is, Tim’s not going to spill. You know how he is.”

“Yeah,” Lucy said, grinning. “But Y/N might be more willing to share.”

The three women exchanged a conspiratorial look before following you into the bullpen.

“So,” Lucy began, leaning casually against a desk. “How’s working with Tim treating you?”

You glanced up from your notes, arching an eyebrow. “Fine. Why?”

“No reason,” she said, feigning innocence. “Just curious. You two seem... close.”

“We’ve worked together before,” you said simply, refusing to elaborate.

Angela smirked. “And how did that go?”

“About as well as you’d expect,” you replied, your tone even.

Their curiosity only grew, but before they could press further, Tim appeared, his presence effectively ending the conversation.

He shot you a look as if to ask if you were okay. You gave him a subtle nod, and he relaxed.

Later that evening, the team gathered to finalize the operational plan. The stakes were high, if the operation failed, it could mean months of lost work and the possibility of the suspects disappearing altogether.

“The docks are our best shot,” Harper said, her tone firm. “But we need solid backup. These guys won’t go down without a fight.”

“I’ll take point,” you said without hesitation.

Tim frowned. “No way. It’s too risky.”

You met his gaze, your expression unwavering. “I can handle it.”

“I know you can,” he said, his voice quieter. “But I’m not letting you go in alone.”

The room fell silent as the tension between you and Tim became palpable.

The rest of the team exchanged glances but didn’t intervene.

“Fine,” you said finally. “But don’t slow me down.”

Tim’s lips quirked into a small smile. “Wouldn’t dream of it.”

The docks were dark and quiet, the salty breeze carrying a faint hint of diesel and seaweed.

You and Tim crouched behind a stack of shipping containers, eyes scanning the area for any sign of movement.

The operation had reached its climax, and you were at the forefront of the action.

“I count three guards near the north entrance,” you whispered, your voice barely audible over the distant hum of machinery.

Tim nodded, his gaze sharp. “Two more near the warehouse entrance. Harper’s team is covering the perimeter.”

You adjusted your earpiece, your heart steady despite the tension. This wasn’t your first high-stakes operation, and you knew it wouldn’t be your last.

But there was something different about this one. Working alongside Tim brought a layer of intensity and focus you hadn’t felt in years.

“On my signal,” Tim said, his voice calm but authoritative. “We take out the guards at the north entrance first. Quietly.”

You nodded, your fingers tightening around your weapon. “Got it.”

As the seconds ticked by, you felt Tim shift closer to you. His shoulder brushed against yours, a subtle reminder that he had your back.

Despite the danger, his presence was grounding, a steady force in the chaos.

“Ready?” he asked, his voice low.

“Always,” you replied, a small smirk playing on your lips.

The operation moved quickly. You and Tim approached the guards with practiced precision, each movement coordinated and silent.

When the first guard turned, you stepped forward, delivering a swift and calculated blow that sent him crumpling to the ground.

Tim handled the second guard with equal efficiency, his movements smooth and controlled.

“Clear,” you whispered, signaling to the rest of the team.

From the earpiece, Harper’s voice came through. “Perimeter’s secure. We’re moving in.”

You and Tim pressed forward, making your way toward the warehouse.

The massive structure loomed ahead, its rusted exterior illuminated by flickering floodlights.

Inside, you knew the operation’s ringleader was waiting, along with the final pieces of evidence needed to bring the entire organization down.

As you reached the entrance, Tim glanced at you, his expression serious. “You good?”

You gave him a confident nod. “Let’s finish this.”

The air inside the warehouse was heavy with the scent of oil and metal.

Stacks of crates and pallets created a labyrinth of narrow pathways, each one more precarious than the last.

You and Tim moved silently, your weapons at the ready.

“Two o’clock,” Tim murmured, gesturing toward a shadowy figure near the back of the room.

You nodded, signaling that you’d cover him. Tim moved ahead, his steps deliberate and soundless.

He closed the distance to the suspect with remarkable speed, subduing him before he had a chance to react.

But just as the suspect hit the ground, the room erupted in chaos.

Another figure appeared, shouting a warning that sent the rest of the criminals scrambling.

“Contact!” you shouted into your earpiece, diving behind a stack of crates as gunfire erupted.

Tim dropped beside you, his expression tight. “We’ve got to neutralize them before they make a run for it.”

“On it,” you said, your adrenaline surging.

The two of you moved as a unit, covering each other as you advanced through the warehouse.

You took down one suspect after another, your training and instincts kicking in with precision.

Tim’s presence beside you was a constant, his sharp commands and quick reflexes ensuring that you were always one step ahead of the danger.

As the chaos subsided, you found yourself face-to-face with the ringleader.

He stood in the center of the room, a smug grin on his face as he held a gun pointed in your direction.

“Drop it,” you ordered, your voice cold and commanding.

The man chuckled, shaking his head. “You don’t scare me.”

“You should be scared,” Tim said, stepping beside you. His tone was low and menacing, his weapon trained on the suspect.

For a moment, the air was thick with tension. Then, with a sudden burst of movement, the suspect lunged toward a nearby crate. But he didn’t get far.

In a flash, you and Tim fired simultaneously, your shots hitting their mark with precision.

The suspect crumpled to the ground, his weapon clattering harmlessly to the floor.

“Clear,” Tim said, his voice steady.

You nodded, lowering your weapon. The adrenaline began to ebb, leaving you with a sense of relief and satisfaction.

“Nice shot,” you said, glancing at Tim.

“Right back at you,” he replied, a small smile tugging at his lips.

As the rest of the team secured the scene and processed the suspects, you and Tim stepped outside to catch your breath.

The cool night air was a welcome contrast to the stifling heat of the warehouse.

“That was intense,” you said, leaning against a nearby railing.

Tim chuckled, shaking his head. “Just another day at the office.”

You rolled your eyes, but a smile crept onto your face. “You’re impossible.”

“And you’re reckless,” he shot back, his tone teasing. “But I guess that’s why we make a good team.”

The banter felt easy and familiar, a reminder of the connection you shared.

As the night wore on, you couldn’t help but feel grateful for the chance to work alongside Tim again, even if it meant navigating the complexities of your past and present.

But one thing was clear: together, you were a force to be reckoned with.

After the successful operation, the precinct was buzzing with activity. Arrests had been made, evidence was secured, and the team was riding the high of a job well done.

You and Tim lingered in the bullpen, going over the final report. The room had emptied out, leaving the two of you alone.

Repeating the same praises and compliments to each other.

“You were amazing out there,” Tim said, his voice low.

“You weren’t so bad yourself,” you replied, smirking.

He chuckled, leaning back in his chair. “So, what now? Back to the FBI?”

“For now,” you said. “But I’m sure our paths will cross again.”

“I’m counting on it,” he said, his gaze steady.

There was a beat of silence before he added, “You know, I don’t think I’ve ever worked with anyone like you.”

You raised an eyebrow. “Is that a compliment?”

“Definitely,” he said, his tone warm.

The two of you sat in comfortable silence for a moment before he reached out, his hand brushing against yours.

It was a small gesture, but it carried a weight of unspoken feelings.

“Y/N,” he said softly,

“I know we’ve been dancing around this, but... I’ve missed having you in my life. Not just as a partner. As you.”

Your breath caught, his words sinking in. “Tim, I—”

Before you could finish, he leaned in, his lips capturing yours in a kiss that was equal parts tender and passionate.

It was a moment of clarity, the past and present colliding in a way that felt inevitable.

When he pulled back, his eyes searched yours. “Tell me this isn’t just me.”

“It’s not,” you whispered, your voice steady despite the whirlwind of emotions. “It never has been.”

While the road ahead wasn’t without its challenges, one thing was clear: together, you were unstoppable.

The next day, you found yourself back at the LAPD station, but there was an odd tension in the air.

You had already wrapped up your part of the case, and you were supposed to head back to the FBI, but something kept pulling you back to this familiar place, and to Tim.

As you entered the station, you couldn’t help but notice the curious glances from his coworkers.

You tried to brush it off, but the whispers had already begun. You knew exactly why. The mission was over, so why were you still here?

Nolan, Angela, and Lucy were at their desks, exchanging amused looks as they watched you walk by.

Their curiosity was palpable, but they hadn’t dared to say anything, yet.

Tim sat at his desk in the busy LAPD station, sorting through a pile of paperwork.

The usual hum of phones ringing, conversations about cases, and the sound of boots echoing in the hallway filled the air.

But none of it seemed to matter. Not when his mind kept drifting back to her.

Y/N.

You had been on his mind ever since their time together last night. The way your smile made his heart skip a beat, the way your laughter felt like a melody to him, everything about you seemed to ground him, even when the world was chaos.

His thoughts were interrupted when he heard the soft sound of footsteps approaching his desk.

He looked up, and there she was: Y/N. His chest tightened at the sight of her, and a smile spread across his face almost instantly.

You were standing in front of him, hands in the pockets of her jacket, looking at him with a soft but knowing smile.

You didn’t say anything at first, just took in the sight of him with those warm, familiar eyes.

"Hey," Tim said, his voice low and filled with affection, as if the word itself held a thousand meanings.

He stood up, his gaze softening when their eyes met.

Your smile grew, your heart fluttering at the sight of him. You were always struck by how effortlessly he seemed to make everything feel right, even on the busiest of days.

"Hey, yourself," you replied, your voice sweet, with a hint of playfulness.

Tim’s hand reached out instinctively, his fingers brushing against yours.

The simple touch sent a spark through both of us. It was as if the world faded away, leaving just the two of us standing in this quiet, intimate moment.

"You’re here early," Tim commented, his thumb tracing small circles on the back of your hand as you stood there together.

"I wanted to see you," you admitted, your voice a little softer than usual, a hint of shyness lacing your words. "I missed you."

His heart thudded in his chest, and without thinking, he pulled you into him, wrapping his arms around you.

You melted into him almost immediately, your head resting on his chest.

Tim closed his eyes, the familiar scent of your perfume making him feel like everything was in place.

"I missed you too," he murmured against your hair. The words were simple, but they held so much weight.

He felt the warmth of you in his arms, and it made the stresses of the day feel like nothing.

You tilted your head back slightly to look up at him. His face was inches from yours, and you could feel his breath against your skin.

You loved how close you both were. There was something about being in his arms that made everything seem okay, no matter what was happening around us.

Tim’s hand cupped your cheek gently, his thumb brushing over your skin. "You okay?" he asked softly, his voice filled with concern.

"I am now," you replied with a small smile, your hand resting over his where it gently held your face. "Just needed to see you."

Your heart raced at the way he looked at you, so open, so trusting. He leaned down, his lips grazing yours in a gentle, lingering kiss.

It was tender, soft, like the kiss had all the time in the world.

When you pulled away, Tim let out a quiet sigh, his forehead resting against yours.

"I don’t want to let go," he murmured, his voice thick with emotion.

"You don’t have to," you whispered back, your arms wrapping around his waist, holding him close.

Tim smiled, the corners of his lips curling up in a way that only you could make happen. "Good," he said, his voice low and full of affection.

He kissed you again, this time deeper, the kiss filled with a hunger that had been building ever since you'd parted ways the night before.

You both broke away a few moments later, your faces flushed, breaths heavy.

Tim pressed his forehead against yours again, as if trying to ground himself in the moment.

"You’re everything to me," he whispered, the words sincere and full of emotion.

It was rare saying the Tim Bradford like this, all soft. But it was the best thing you've witnessed and you wouldn't change it for anything.

You closed your eyes, your hands gently brushing through his hair.

"And you’re everything to me," you said, your voice soft but filled with so much love.

The moment stretched on, neither of you wanting to move away, to break the peace that had settled between you.

You were lost in your own world, the chaos of the station and the responsibilities of your lives fading into the background.

It was just the two of you, connected, in your own little bubble.

Finally, Tim pulled back slightly, still holding you close. He smiled at you with a softness in his eyes that only you had the power to draw out.

"I’m glad you’re here," he said, his voice a little rough from the intensity of your shared moment.

"I’m glad too," you replied, your fingers tracing small patterns across his chest. "I’m not going anywhere this time."

Tim’s heart swelled with warmth at your words. He leaned down to press a final kiss to your lips, slow and tender.

It wasn’t about passion this time, it was about the connection you had, the unspoken understanding between you.

As you broke the kiss, you smiled up at him. "I guess I should probably let you get back to work," you said, a playful glint in your eyes.

Tim chuckled, but there was a hint of reluctance in his voice. "Yeah," he agreed, his thumb brushing over your cheek one more time. "But I don’t want to let go of you."

"Then don’t," you said softly, your voice filled with a quiet promise.

"Do you think the others suspected anything?"

"Oh definitely."

Meanwhile, the others were spying on both of you, their curiosity getting the best of them.

His coworkers froze, watching in disbelief through the glass window as Tim, usually stoic and reserved, wrapped his arms around you and pressed a soft kiss to your forehead.

“Oh, my God,” Lucy muttered under her breath, eyes wide. “Is that...?”

“I think that’s Y/N,” Nolan said, his voice trailing off as he tried to make sense of the situation.

“Bradford,” Lucy called out from far, unable to keep her curiosity in check. Storming into his office with the others close behind.

“Since when do you get all... affectionate?”

Tim glanced at them, his usual tough exterior slipping for a brief moment. He didn’t say anything at first, just held you there, savoring the moment.

You, however, were more than willing to answer their questions.

“You all have a lot of questions, don’t you?” you asked with a playful smile, glancing at Tim before meeting the others’ eyes.

Angela raised an eyebrow, clearly surprised. “We’ve never seen you like this, Tim. And you’ve been so secretive about everything. Who’s this?”

You looked up at Tim, the quiet understanding between you two enough to convey everything they needed to know.

“She’s my girlfriend, so I can do whatever I want.” Tim finally said, his voice firm, as if to silence any further questioning.

He didn’t give them much to go on but the simple truth.

The room went silent.

“Your girlfriend?” Jackson asked, his voice filled with disbelief. “Since when?”

Tim shrugged. “Not too long ago." Tim didn't want them to directly know that the two of you had just gotten back together.

“Not too long ago?” Lucy said, her jaw dropping. “And none of us knew? How... how is that even possible?”

Tim simply glanced at you with a soft smile, giving you the space to add something if you wanted.

You cleared your throat, still not entirely used to the attention.

“We’re private,” you said, your voice gentle but steady. “I’m not here for attention. Just... helping out with the case.”

Angela, ever the inquisitive one, tilted her head. “But you’re an FBI agent, right? What’s the deal with you two?”

You shared a glance with Tim before speaking, your tone calm and honest.

“We’ve known each other for a while. Tim and I have a history... and we’ve kept things private for a reason.”

Tim stepped in then, his expression soft but serious. “This is a personal matter. We’re not ready to share all the details. But Y/N means a lot to me, and that’s all that matters.”

The others nodded, though they still seemed a little stunned by the revelation.

After a brief pause, Jackson chuckled. “I guess that explains the... intimate moment earlier.”

Tim shot him a look, and you laughed, nudging Tim’s side playfully.

“Don’t worry,” you said, “We’ll make sure to keep it professional here. But the personal stuff? That’s ours.”

The others shared a mix of understanding and disbelief, their questions lingering in the air.

But before anyone could press further, you gave Tim a final, sweet smile.

“I should get going,” you said, your hand resting lightly on his chest. “I have work to do. But we’ll talk more later.”

As you turned to leave, Lucy caught your arm, her tone softer now, almost teasing.

“Hey, you’re always welcome to come by. It’s nice seeing Tim... happy. Maybe next time we’ll get to know you better, huh?”

You grinned, nodding. “Next time.”

With that, you left the station, feeling the eyes of Tim’s coworkers on you, but not in a bad way, just a little curious.

Back at your car, you smiled to yourself, the warmth from Tim’s touch still lingering on your skin.

You couldn’t deny it, everything was changing. But you knew you had Tim by your side, and that made it all feel right.

That evening, Tim greeted you at the door with a soft smile and a tight embrace.

You both had a quiet dinner together, sitting at the small kitchen table as you talked about your day.

“Thanks for letting me steal you away today,” Tim said, his fingers brushing yours as he handed you a glass of wine.

“Anytime,” you replied, your voice soft. “I love being around you, Tim. It feels like... everything falls into place when I’m with you. Just like old times.”

Tim leaned in, brushing his lips against your forehead. “Me too, Y/N. I couldn’t imagine my life without you now.”

The conversation flowed easily, and the quiet moments between you both were more than enough to make everything feel complete.

As you both relaxed into the evening, you knew this was just the beginning of something bigger, something that felt right.

And in the silence of your shared space, surrounded by love and the soft rhythm of each other’s breathing, you knew you’d navigate whatever came next together.

The end

[sl-vega]

[ 💌 ] - VOICELINES ABOUT YOU - genshin x reader

✮⋆˙ voicelines that the characters would have about you in game, whether you be a partner or someone they have feelings for <3 + voicelines other characters would have spectating your relationship (open to doing more characters if requested!)

↳ characters: kazuha & venti

cw; potentially ooc, lowk cringe, reader is not shown but only stated, the characters are talking about (y/n) to the traveler (kept vague onto whether it's lumine or aether), reader is gn, relationship with y/n + the characters varies <3

divider creds to @anemichorizon2 <3

KAEDEHARA KAZUHA - [🍁]

↳ about y/n

"The person from Yae Publishing House that you always see me with? Ah, you must be referring to (Y/N)! I've been acquainted with them for quite some time, whenever Beidou and I visit Narukami Island, they always manage to show me any new books they have in stock. They've been dabbling in writing poems here and there as well, their eyes light up whenever they show me a new piece that they've written, it's quite adorable really..."

"Hm? What was that traveler? My...relationship with them? Why we're friends of course, what else?"

"...What's with that expression on your face? Ah, no it's not like that...you sound just like Beidou whenever I bring them up around her, you know that?"

beidou - about (y/n) and kazuha

"Kazuha's insisted on taking stops by Narukami Island a lot more frequently as of late, thankfully he doesn't bother playing the fool with me-he knows that I know him well enough to see right through an act like that- as for why you ask? To visit that little shop clerk that's caught his eye of course."

"Last time I saw them together, he was looking at them as if they were the only person in the world. Not to mention how he's constantly gushing about the poems and haikus they exchange, and whenever we arrive in Ritou, (Y/N) is always the first person to greet them, they get all sappy whenever he has to leave with the rest of the crew as well. I do have to admit that they make a good pair, he's happy with her, and as cheesy as they are, I'm happy he's found someone that makes him feel that way. Don't tell him I said that though."

yae miko - about (y/n) and kazuha

"Ah, you want to know more about my favourite employee and their silly little school girl crush on that samurai? It's straight out of a romantic light novel in all honesty, the way they look so dreamy-eyed and entranced whenever he comes to visit, simply and positively adorable. Whenever they call in sick or ask for someone else to cover their shift I always find out that Kazuha happens to be in the area on the same day, ah...young love."

VENTI - [🎼]

↳ about y/n

"Traveler! Look at this bottle of Dandelion Wine I managed to snag from the Angel's Share! And no, I didn't steal it mind you, someone gifted it to me. You know (Y/N)? Oh, you haven't met them? Well they work part-time as a bartender at the Angel's Share, and they're wonderful company."

"I always make sure to grab a drink whenever they have a shift. They're very sweet on me too, sometimes they give me a discount, and if I'm lucky, they give me something on the house!"

"They always listen to my tales and performances at the tavern as well, and they always have the most witty and amusing commentary to accompany my performances, I honestly think that they're one of the few reasons that Diluc doesn't kick me out that often anymore..."

diluc - about (y/n) and venti

"Venti's been coming to the tavern a lot more than usual, which is saying a lot. Whenever I'm working part time as a bartender at the Angel's Share and he comes to order something he always looks incredibly disappointed when he sees me there. Hm? Don't worry I'm not daft, I already know why. Just...let me know if it ever looks like he's getting too close, (Y/N) treats him like some lost kitten, a few whines and a sad little look and they fold just like a frame sign. I don't want him getting into the habit of expecting free drinks all the time either."

kaeya - about (y/n) and venti

"You know that bard's sweet little partner? Well, they aren't actually partners-not yet, at least- and they're quite lovely, whenever they serve me at the tavern they're always so polite and kind. Me and Rosaria have a little bet going on regarding their relationship with Venti. What does the bet entail? Why who will ask who out first of course! My money's on Venti, Rosaria put her mora on the cute little bartender. Why do you ask? Wanna join?"

🍓 TAGLIST; @shrii-kk

[twsted-outro]

FOR I AM YOURS

PAIRING: Yandere!Genshin Impact Characters x Gender-Neutral!Reader (separately)

CONTENT WARNINGS: yandere themes, mention of poison, stalking, abduction, minor mention of underwear thievery, implied invasion of privacy, implication of taking advantage of someone when they're drunk, infantilization (kind of), obsession, the reader is called pretty (ganyu's part), manipulation, genuinely don't know if zhongli can appear in dreams, this was pre-sumeru so I made this during 2022 iirc, brief thoughts about harming reader in Kokomi's, abduction, stalking, ei's part is before her 2nd story quest, threat, stealing your personal belongings, manipulation.

SUMMARY: Genshin Impact characters and their love for you.

NOTE: migrated fic from w*ttp*d :crying emoji:.

MONDSTADT

ALBEDO:

» ALBEDO FINDS love to be something new. Love is foreign to him - unfamiliar, but being around you ticks all the tell-tale signs of being infatuated. His heart races when you're near, his thoughts always trail back to you regardless of what he's doing, he always longs to spend more time with you within the confines of Dragonspine - Albedo's sure of it, this must be love. And when you're in love, isn't it normal to do outlandish things for it? To secure that no one else gets in the way of your developing relationship? So when Albedo concocts up a new potion (poison or toxin, that's for him to know) and decides to experiment it on someone who's been suspiciously close to you - well, it's not like you'll ever know. Not when Albedo has the chemicals necessary to clean up any evidence of a dead body. And at the end of the day, Albedo would patiently wait for you to come visit him up in Dragonspine, where he'll relish in the addicting sensations of feelings only you can make him feel.

DILUC RAGNVINDR:

» For the lack of a better word, DILUC is a man who's emotionally constipated. He finds it difficult to outwardly express any deep emotions, even more so when it's in the pursuit of love. Every time Diluc encounters you (In the city square, the forests, or the tavern) he tenses up and gets as stiff as a rock - all while he initiates a conversation with you or at least the resemblance of a conversation in his current state. Diluc can't help but inwardly groan at his poor attempts of romancing you, left with no choice (seeing as he can't hold a civil conversation with you, at least right now) he resorts to stalking you and hiring people to collect private intel. For someone with eye-catching red hair, he's inconspicuous in his stalking - skillfully tailing behind you and knowing the right amount of distance in order to not be detected and he stores any information his intel provides into the recesses of his mind. Until the day he can act like a normal human being when in your company, Diluc will settle with this.

EULA LAWRENCE:

» It's no surprise that someone like EULA is awkward when it comes to romance. She's inexperienced in this field but still, she'll grasp at any straws she can get - all in the name of you being hers and her being yours. She can come off a little rough around the edges, from the way the conversations she held with you are stiff and awkward, but she tries. Really, she tries. Eula even forgoes any pride she had in favor of gaining any advice from Amber and picking up books specializing in romance from the library. In a moment of epiphany, Eula realizes that her relationship with you can develop faster if she just abducts you away from your comfortable house. This way, no one else can ever ogle at you ever again and Eula can appreciate you all she wants in the comfort of her quarters - it's a win-win situation in her eyes. So stop crying, can't you see she's doing this for the benefit of both of you? Maybe you don't understand now but she's sure it'll all click into your head once you inevitably fall for her too.

KAEYA ALBERICH:

» Every word that slips off KAEYA's mouth is sweet, deceivingly so. He puts up an act of a close friend in order to get close to you, acting like he isn't interested in a relationship, and claims that your friendship with him is too precious to throw away like that (the way his thoughts are plagued with you kissing him stupid contrasts this, though). It isn't necessarily a lie, Kaeya truly does value the bond and friendship he's built with you but you don't need to know the things he's plotting in his mind. As a certified 'nice guy' and friend, Kaeya offers to look after your house when you're going on trips - unknown to you, he uses this opportunity to steal a few of your undergarments for his own pleasure. If you ever notice some of your underwear missing, Kaeya gaslights you into thinking that you must have misplaced them somewhere or that maybe some got lost while drying them outside. You trust Kaeya, he's a dear friend, after all. So his judgment must be right. Right?

MONA MEGISTUS:

» MONA, a prideful astrologist and a fool in love. She takes advantage of her hydromancy, putting her scryglass into good use and using it for knowing more about you. Nothing is left untouched by her scryglass and everything is revealed to her delighted eyes - the date of your birth, your life until now, trivial information about yourself, secrets that you'd rather no one knew about; Mona knows every tidbit of information there is to your name and still craves to know even more. It's greedy, she knows. But she can't help it, not when you're the most interesting person her eyes have ever laid upon. Besides, isn't it to her benefit to know more about you to aid in her romantic endeavors? She's just doing this to not embarrass herself when engaging in pleasant talk with you - knowing what to say and what not to say, making sure that talks with her are good enough to land her into being friends with you. She has to start somewhere, especially when she's planning on making you her lover.

VENTI / BARBATOS:

» In your eyes, VENTI is nothing but a playful bard who loves to drink the finest alcohol Mondstadt has to offer. He's cheeky and playfully touchy - constantly swatting your arm, wrapping his arms around your shoulders, and sticking close to you - it's all in jest, or so he claims. He's a pleasant company to have around when you're drinking, he's a chatterbox and the topic of things to talk about never runs out when you're talking to him, sober or not. Unsurprisingly, It takes a lot for Venti to get drunk, (in fact not once have you ever seen him tipsy in all the time you've known him) resulting in you being the one he has to take care of when you inevitably succumb to the effects of alcohol. Unbeknownst to you, Venti doesn't really walk you home. What he does to you when drunk, well, it's a secret that he'll never tell. 

LIYUE

BEIDOU:

» Carefree and joyous - that's the woman BEIDOU is. Regardless of how you act and what your personality is, you can't escape Beidou's constant pleas for you to relax and have fun - she always invites you to sail the seas with her crew, even if it's just a little bit. When she's so persistent and skilled in the art of persuasion - how can you refuse? So with a vacation leave from work, you board the Alcor with Beidou and her crew whooping in joy around. It's a mistake on your part for ever accepting her offer, you soon learn. It starts off unsuspecting; Beidou conveniently 'miscalculating' the number of rooms in her ship leading to you sharing a room with her, Beidou 'underestimating' the winds that day causing you to cling onto her for dear life, Beidou sending 'mixed signals' to her crewmates leading to them all thinking that you're in a romantic relationship with her. It's all small errors, right? There's no way Beidou would purposely do all of that and even if she did, what would she gain from it... Right? (You're so easy to take advantage of, you have no idea).

GANYU:

» GANYU is a worrywart. In her free time from work, she can be found fretting and fussing over you - her crush. Ganyu really hadn't meant for things to turn out this way but before she knew it - She had developed romantic feelings for you. In times of dire need, Ganyu turns to cloud retainer for help as she had no idea what romance entails. Cloud retainer, having a messed up perception of love, ended up indirectly enabling Ganyu's obsessive tendencies - causing her to hover over your shoulder anytime she has the chance to. In her eyes, as a mortal, you are incapable of most things - which is why you need someone like her in your life. All you need to do is sit pretty and let her do all the work, she promises. After all, it's quite domestic in that way, no? It already feels like the two of you are married and the thought brings a flush to Ganyu's face. Disregarding the fact that she practically forced you into her abode, such details are meaningless in the grand scheme of things.

HU TAO:

» Wherever you go in the harbor, you're bound to be pranked by your dear friend HU TAO. She's playful, incredibly so. But you don't mind, you went into this friendship fully knowing what her antics are and the shenanigans she's always scheming. As your best friend, Hu Tao earns the privilege of knowing you more intimately than most - knowing the things that scare you, the deepest secrets that you have, and your favorite spots in Liyue - bits of information that acquaintances and other friends of yours wouldn't know and Hu Tao takes pride in that fact. She's selfish and gatekeeps you to the best of her abilities; purposely omitting mentions of you and discouraging anyone who wants to be a friend of yours. Maybe it's a little unsettling for Hu Tao to restrict friendships on your behalf, but then again, when has she ever been a part of normal people? She revels in the fact that she's your best friend, eventually working through the list of your other friends until she's the only friend you have - before worming her way into your heart as your lover.

NINGGUANG:

» The jade chamber is your home, regardless if you consented to it or not because NINGGUANG likes to keep you in arms reach at all times. You're her little alleviation from grueling work as the Tianquan, serving as her pretend lover (In her eyes, it's not pretend) and smothering her in affection. She gifts you exquisite riches and allows you to roam free around the jade chamber - even encouraging you to savor the breathtaking view of the skies. It's a gracious life, is it not? To be loved so dearly and to be gifted so affectionately - As long as you ignore the fact that you're forever trapped high up in the skies akin to a princess trapped inside a tower. Ningguang likes to keep her riches close, and you - as her most valuable possession, are kept the closest.

SHENHE:

» Admittedly, SHENHE is ignorant of most matters concerning humans. Raised by an Adeptus, she's unfamiliar with the norms and customs in the mortal realm and thus, she's a little uncertain how to go about pursuing you. While she is aware that she's deeply infatuated with you - obsessed, even, she's incredibly inexperienced in that subject; all she knew most of her life is how to kill. And so, she does. She uses her combat knowledge to her advantage by wiping out any threat of competition of your affections - no one is spared from her polearm and not a day goes by where her weapon isn't drenched in blood. She's straightforward when talking to you and has no qualms in admitting she committed murders for your sake - even acting confused when your face twists in horror. She doesn't get it, what's so bad about her making sure there's no one else in your heart but her? Isn't it all fair in love and war? Maybe dragging you inside her abode will enlighten your mind... yeah, that's a great idea.

XIAO / ALATUS:

» XIAO has endured countless centuries of suffering - courtesy of his karmic debt. It's agony; relentless torture - so is it really so bad that he finds comfort within your arms and presence? Xiao hadn't expected to ever fall in love, the idea itself is ludicrous but the emotions you stir in him say otherwise. Thus, it's only logical for him to protect the one dear to him - even if it's at the cost of your hatred. Trust him when he says that confining you within Wangshu inn is just him looking out for you - the world is a dangerous place, a land that's filled with nothing but horrors; can't you see? Xiao is simply doing you a favor. He can't stand the idea of someone dear to him dying once more, he won't let you perish like his previous Yakshas - he won't. So just shut up and accept your new living condition, because it's clear that Xiao won't be freeing you anytime soon.

YELAN:

» Keeping her cards close to her chest - YELAN eyes you like one would in a game of chess; calculating and scheming. Yelan pursues you in a straightforward manner, tilting your chin upward with her hand and leaning in way too close for comfort before professing her love with no shame and boldly declaring that you'll be hers by the time the year ends. She's flirty, you realize - flirty only to you. With her hydro vision, it's laughable how easy it is to stalk you; it almost exudes her no effort to dematerialize herself from the naked eye. In times like these, Yelan has to admit her vision comes useful - aiding in both combat and personal matters. When she's busy and can't personally attend to you herself, she orders her little helpers to stalk you and to report every detail to her ears. Oftentimes, when work is lenient on her shoulders - Yelan invites you to join her for tea in the Yansheng teahouse, where everything you order is free of charge, courtesy of her. There, you let your guard down around her and unknowingly feed her bits of your utmost, truest personality - Something that she'll make sure to take advantage of. All in the name of love, she supposes.

YUN JIN:

» YUN JIN's crush on you is only revealed through the ears of her most trusted servants - people that she confides in. A little lost on how to maneuver around love, a topic she's unfamiliar with, Yun Jin has no choice but to trust her servant's advice. On a more advantageous note, Yun Jin uses her newfound infatuation into songs for her Operas - leaving her audience to wonder who she was singing about. She's tame, for the most part - just unbearably, irreversibly in love with you; her first and only love. Just don't brush off her company in favor of another and she's content, not needing to resort to extraordinary means.

ZHONGLI / MORAX:

» ZHONGLI, A worker from the funeral parlor, finds himself being romantically interested in you. It's peculiar, to feel a new emotion after living for thousands of years - and unsurprisingly, Zhongli yearns to feel more of this emotion. And so, he gets close to you under the guise of a young man wanting to share the knowledge he has of the nation, subtly praising Morax in the little anecdotes he has. He often meets you for tea during the weekends, something that Zhongli isn't satisfied with; but he knows he must be patient - so for now, he'll settle on appearing in your dreams, pushing you to think about him more during the daytime. He's tempted to break into your house when you're unsuspecting but he finds that method unbecoming of him, not when he knows that he'll have all the time in the world to relish in your home once you're his. And while right now, Zhongli may appear to be a trustworthy guy, it won't be long until the cracks of his facade start shining through.

INAZUMA

ARATAKI ITTO:

» ITTO IS rambunctious and unruly in every sense of the word, always being a bother to the citizens of Inazuma city because of his loud voice. He's annoying, even more so in the department of romance - Itto isn't really sure what had drawn him to you (was it the way you carry yourself? Or maybe your sense of humor just ticks his boxes?) all he knows is that he wants you, badly. And in desperation comes desperate attempts; he always interrupts you in the middle of work to give you hand-plucked flowers, when you're out in the streets of Inazuma you can always count on Itto to ruin your time to yourself, and when you're walking home Itto will always be loitering around just in case you get yourself into danger. Somewhere down the line, Itto deludes himself into thinking there's something going on between the two of you and his gang is no help as they directly (or indirectly) enable his delusions. Because trust us, boss! There's no way they don't like you, have you seen the way they looked at you yesterday!? If that's not love, then I don't know what is! (And Itto always eats it up every time).

KAEDEHARA KAZUHA:

» KAZUHA loves obsessively, every part of you is vehemently adored by him - no exceptions whatsoever. It doesn't even matter what your personality is, you could be the most selfish person in all of Teyvat or the complete opposite - Kazuha will be swooning either way, because in his eyes; everything that makes you, well, you should be appreciated equally. Trust him to be waxing poetic about you in his free time (the free time in question is when he's not stalking your every move and mannerism) and dreamily sighing at the memories he has shared with you. A hopeless romantic, really. And maybe it would have been endearing if he wasn't such a creep, such a weirdo that follows you everywhere you go.

KAMISATO AYAKA:

» Elegance is something that's engraved within AYAKA's entire being, both on the battlefield and in etiquette. But that same elegance is not found in the way she courts you - the keeper of her heart, she fumbles like a fool, cheeks stained with a vibrant red, and stutters over her sentences like a child; her servants may deny it all they want but Ayaka is clearly head over heels for you. It isn't her intention to make such a mockery of herself within your company, but what else can she do when your eyes land on her face? Just the thought has her reeling. Still, Ayaka is determined to establish a relationship with you - because under the layers of her shyness and embarrassment lies an unquenchable obsession with anything that's you. She just hides it well, enough for you to remain blind to her unhealthy behavior.

GOROU:

» GOROU is loyal to a fault and this trait of his strengthens when it comes to you. He's a nice guy, you think. Especially since Gorou is somehow always around to help you with menial tasks - carrying things, obtaining something that's nearby, giving helpful advice in a time of need - it's like he's developed a sixth sense for when you're troubled! Because of how trustworthy and helpful Gorou has appeared in your eyes, you allow him more into your personal bubble. Your small talk evolves into actual conversations between friends and the two of you occasionally meet up in Inazuma city for a 'friendly' outing. Gorou couldn't be happier! Still, greed claws at him and urges him to desire more. Why settle for friends when you can be their lover? It's not like there's anything that's in the way, just take the leap and ask. And if you reject Gorou? Well, missing people had always been frequent nowadays.

SANGONOMIYA KOKOMI:

» The divine priestess' intelligence really shines through when it comes to trying to win you over because KOKOMI can not stomach the thought of you belonging to someone else that isn't her. She acts all calm and poised around you, but her mind is working overtime trying to come up with different ways and strategies to make you love her back. Seeing you roam free out and about in Watatsumi (sometimes even in lands beyond Inazuma) has Kokomi fighting back the urge to cripple you and causing you to never leave her grasp ever again. Then, something clicks in her mind. Maybe she won't cripple you, instead, she'll just confine you inside her humble abode. That should be fine for you, no? Your entire limbs remain working and intact, while Kokomi gets to have you all to herself. Yes, that would make an ideal situation. Now, all she needs are the materials needed to properly abduct you - just don't be afraid when you wake up blindfolded, okay?

KAMISATO AYATO:

» As a man with great influence, AYATO uses this to his advantage. It's unclear in his mind how and when did he develop an infatuation for you, but he welcomes it regardless. And as a man in love, Ayato is relentless in his pursuit - using everything and everyone to his advantage, just so he can get an inch closer to you. Shuumatsuban ninjas are instructed to follow you every day and the servants within the Kamisato estate are told to keep a lookout just in case you make an impromptu visit. All the while, Ayato keeps a clean image in front of you, resulting in you knowing him as a benevolent and friendly man who always insists on inviting you to drink tea with him. It's unknown to his underlings what exactly Ayato's plans are because that's only for him to know. But at least he's 'kind' enough to warn them in advance to not be surprised when they see someone else laying on his futon, wrists, and legs bound together - with their mouth gagged with fabric.

KUJOU SARA:

» SARA is an uptight woman, the only thing she had always known was how to battle and handle politics - things that certainly do not concern love. Still, she tries her best to educate herself before going out to 'romance' you, as embarrassing as it may be. Sara tries to go for the normal approach at first; offering to walk you home, accompanying you out in the streets of Inazuma, gifting you sentimental items, and immediately drawing her bow when danger nears you. Her movements are stiff and her cheeks are when she interacts with you, but it makes an endearing sight - never failing to make you chuckle (a sound that brings even more redness to her cheeks). It's nice, for the first couple of weeks until it isn't. Maybe something occurred that caused her to snap, stress building up - or maybe it's just been hidden deep within her being, but Sara gradually devolves into a possessive freak. She abuses her position within the Tenryou commission to keep tabs on you, doing the same for others but for entirely different reasons. Sara reasons to herself that it's okay to be possessive over you - you're hers. So it's fine to falsely arrest men and women that had interacted with you, it's fine to sign death executions for others that had wronged you. It's completely fine.

EI / BAAL:

» Eternity is something EI had always longed to achieve, even more now that she has you, her darling lover. The thought of you being stagnant, never changing; always staying the same, and loving her for all eternity - it's such a salivating idea and Ei simply has to have it, no matter the cost. While Ei can't prevent her citizens from succumbing to the inevitable effects of time, she's sure she can preserve you to remain the same centuries after centuries. She's made a puppet that's almost human - what's stopping her from making her lover immortal? Nothing should stand against love, even mortality. Through trial and error, after searching far and wide - when Ei has finally achieved your immortality is where her happy ending lies. There's nothing more blissful compared to her ruling Inazuma with you by her side, bound by eternity. Your love for each other transcends time and everything mortal, isn't that romantic?

YAE MIKO:

» A cunning chief priestess and chief-in-editor, YAE is relentless when it comes to flirting with you. From sly winks sent your way to intentional touches on your body, she's not afraid to show her interest in you so blatantly. She heeds no mind if you were to respond so... Null to her advances, you'll warm up eventually, she just knows it. But if that lukewarm reaction extends onto long periods of time where it's no longer funny, but an annoyance - then maybe it's time for Yae to dig deep into your life, just to see if anyone holds your heart. And if there is? Yae isn't above using underhanded methods for them to discard you completely or worst-case scenario, make them disappear into thin air. Hopefully, that experience will be a lesson learned, if you know what's best for other people that like you.

SHIKANOIN HEIZOU:

» Mischief runs in HEIZOU's blood. He's cheeky and a tease when you're around him, playful remarks and teasing jabs are sent your way. Just because he likes you doesn't mean you're exempted from his annoying attitude, ya know? It's best to just shut up and take his teasing into stride, or to tease back. Heizou actually likes it when you make remarks back to him because, in his mind, it creates an image of a couple (a married one, if he's being specific) that's lovingly bickering with each other. In your playful quarrels, he basks in the sight of a smile blooming on your face - a smile that's caused by him. When that smile is caused by other people, well... Heizou gets miffed. It's best to disassociate with them when there's still an opportunity to do so before Heizou completes his perfect crime plan and decides to act it out.

THOMA:

» THOMA is polite by default, almost painfully so. He's the picture-perfect image of a gentleman, he respects your boundaries, is always eager to help, always looking for ways to lessen your burden - boyfriend material, if we're being honest. And that's what Thoma strives to appear in your perspective; someone that's worthy of being your lover (or ahem, husband). This doesn't mean his help and small favors aren't genuine - they are, he wants to help you! But it's like killing two birds with one stone this way, he gets to be reliable and appear to be a guy with a good reputation. Because it isn't far-fetched to say Thoma absolutely worships you - his collection of your personal belongings back in his room can be a testament to this. He revels in your company as one would in front of a god, if could he'd kiss the ground you walk on - he loves you so badly. Won't you indulge him for a little while?

[escha-ashengrotto]

His Small But Intimate Gestures

Azul Ashengrotto x GN!Reader

Summary: Azul and his subtle, physical affections for you.

Notes: Established relationship. Azul calls you "sweetheart".

A/N: I wrote this in second person POV but this was actually originally written with Eszul dynamic in mind. I was thinking of my ship when I wrote this a few months back for inspiration. I saw this in my drafts once more and decided to finally upload it :)

Azul brushing your hair out of your face.

You were busy writing on your notebook, comparing the details of your notes to the information on the book in front of you. You were so focused with studying that you didn't pay attention to the stray strands of hair falling to your face. Except for that silver-haired person sitting beside you. His gloved hand reached out to you, brushing the strands of hair away from your face.

"Your hair is getting in the way," Azul said gently as he tucked the stray hairs behind your ear before smiling at you. "There. Now I get to see your beautiful face again."

Azul blowing something out of your eye.

"Ah! Zul. Zul, help!!" You cried out to him. You were walking together with Azul when a strong wind passed by and something got caught in your eye.

"What happened? Why are you crying?!" He asked worriedly at the sudden change in your mood.

"There's something in my eye. It hurts!!"

Azul immediately stepped closer to you, placing his thumb and index finger around your eye. "I'm going to blow on it, okay? One. Two.."

His fingers opened your eye as he blew on it to get the irritant out. "Is it gone??"

You sniffled but felt that the foreign object was gone. "I think so? It doesn't hurt as much anymore. Thank you."

Blinking and gaining more awareness of your surroundings, you realized Azul's face was very close to yours. You felt yourself blushing from the close proximity while Azul took notice of your reaction and smiled teasingly at you.

"I think there's still something in your eye. Let me try again," he said as he inched even closer to you, taking delight in your cute, flustered expression.

Azul leaning his forehead against yours.

You were just relaxing in bed when you suddenly felt Azul's arms wrapped around you from behind.

"Y/N~" He called out to you.

"Zul?" You turned around to face him. "What's wrong?"

He leaned his face closer to yours until your foreheads were touching. You heard a soft sigh escape his lips as he closed his eyes in a relaxed state.

"Azul?"

"Nothing sweetheart. I just.. wanted to be close to you."

Azul stroking your cheek.

You were sharing a story with Azul, talking quite animatedly with the way your hands moved around and your face being so expressive. Azul was completely enamoured by you and couldn't help raising his hand to caress your face. His bare hand made contact with your skin, gliding his fingers gently across your cheek. The moment he did though, he noticed you stopped. A faint blush dusted your cheeks.

"Hm? Why'd you stop?" He asked curiously.

"You know why," you pouted.

"Does it bother you?"

"..no."

"Then keep going, my sweetheart. As you were saying?"

His fingers continued to stroke your cheek affectionately as you resumed your tale. He noticed the brighter shade of pink adorning your cheeks caused by his touch and Azul felt pleased with himself at how you looked so adorable like that all because of him.

Azul whispering into your ear.

"Can I tell you something?" Azul asked.

You darted your eyes to his and saw there was some mischief hidden in those ocean blue irises.

"Hmm.. you're planning something."

"Oh, it's nothing bad I can assure you. I simply wish to tell you something. Won't you indulge me in my request?"

There was something about the way he talked and the way his lips curved into a smile. A devious smile. Still you took the bait, curious on what he was going to say.

"Alright! So what is it?"

He leaned forward to have his mouth close to your ear before whispering, "I love you," and planting a kiss to the outer shell of your ear.

Your entire face felt hot as you blushed deeply. Your hands immediately went to your face and though your eyes were covered, you knew for sure that Azul had that handsome smirk on his face.

Masterlist here!

If you enjoyed this: likes, comments, and reblogs are much appreciated. Thank you for reading!

[moonlight-prose]

STRANGE ADDICTION

➻ 01. BEAUTIFUL DEATH

a/n: i have rewritten this chapter about two times just to get it right. i want it to feel like the show, but also i'm a perfectionist when it comes to posting in a new fandom. this story has been in my head since s1 dropped and well it feels great to finally put it somewhere. even if the love for silco has sorta died down. i've had the most fun writing this so i hope you enjoy!

summary: dinner with an old friend leads to revelations about your past. about whether you chose the right path - the future meant for you. or if time indeed stands still beyond what science and magic tells you.

word count: 4.5k+

pairing: silco x f!reader; viktor x f!reader (platonic)

warnings: not explicit, angst, friendships, flashbacks, arguing, hesitation to tell the truth, pining (not by reader), the haunting of past relationships.

NEXT CHAPTER | SERIES MASTERLIST

The sun beat down harder than ever before. A bright scorching ball of light that seemed intent on searing through the fabric of your gown. Although you weren't entirely opposed, given the weight of the material that clung to your skin.

It seemed that the sun favored topside more than anywhere else. You'd known this for a while, your eyes fixed on the horizon at each turning of the clock. Dusk assumed its duties for the day, bringing forth the moon that hid until the time was right to reveal herself. Flames licked across the sky and suddenly you were a child again. Stunned by the magnificence and beauty of something so normal.

When you were younger you held the belief that only those in the grand city would be able to witness this. To watch as sunset broke along brilliant blue before sinking below—away from the towers of the grand house.

Although the term house felt humble and dishonest given the lavish setting. Castle seemed like a better word. Or kingdom.

Piltover. The land of progress.

How ironic that just below the surface lay the vastness of a city that thrived on the opposite. You felt like royalty amidst the opulence around you. Someone who was crowned long ago by the people who deemed you worthy enough. Yet it wasn't that long ago that you were a young kid vying for a glimpse at a clear sky. Topside rarely accepted those that didn't belong; unsurprising but still a bitter disappointment.

How you managed to trick them—fool their wits—into allowing you access escaped you.

This felt too extravagant. So unlike the person you once knew. It felt fictional. A tale as old as time now finally bestowed upon someone like you.

"Unbelievable," you muttered, eyes wide at the brilliant orange that painted itself over pinks and yellows.

A voice echoed in the distance, someone calling your name, and with a sigh you were pulled away from the ambience of this view. You preferred a chance to stay here but you recognized the lilt of his voice, the familiar drawl of his words. With a sigh you let go of the balcony railing and turned towards the room you were staying in. His room. He offered and gave no room for an argument.

That didn't stop you from trying.

"Dinner is being planned," he announced, balancing his weight on the cane held in his tight grip.

"All this trouble isn't necessary." Pulling the chair by his bed close, you took the opposite one with a grin. "I'm not that important."

He huffed, long and loud enough to keep you quiet. "I don't see you often enough. Dinner is the least I can do."

"Viktor–" His hand went up before you could state your case—the argument ready to fly off the tip of your tongue.

"I've argued with you enough over the years to know when you will start." His smile is warm, an old piece of the past that still resides in the back of your mind.

"I call that an unfair advantage," you muttered.

"I would call it strategy."

"Strategy requires the mind of a politician," you joked. The words rolled out of your mouth with ease as you scrutinized the man before you.

He shrugged. "I've got politician friends."

"Right."

Over the years you often wondered where your paths might cross again. Where on the timeline of your lives Viktor would once more become your ally. You both found one another in your younger years—when things were simpler. The time in your life where you were starting to be recognized for your mind and him with his mind.

Two intellectuals forged in the fires of the Undercity. At one point in your life this might have felt humorous. Almost ironic.

Now you tried to grasp at what kept the two of you together. Especially since your step back away from the atmosphere of progress.

"I–"

"While you are here, would you mind—uh—looking over the research I have accumulated over the years of your absence?" The notebook he draws from the table beside him is crammed with scraps of paper. The binding was ready to burst at the seams. A sight that so utterly and undeniably the young man you met in the Undercity. "I trust your intelligence more than mine sometimes."

You could recall the hours spent pouring over books, each one filled with information you never thought you'd have the opportunity to learn. They brought the both of you closer to something that he felt would do the world some good. Knowledge was power in Piltover—you simply learned to utilize it for your own good. As a way to escape the past you tried your best to ignore.

Flipping to the first bookmarked page, you attempted to discern his writing. At times it was illegible, but you knew it better than yours. After years of looking at the same scratch marks and symbols, you were able to pick through Viktor's work with ease. Your heart stuttered at the research before you—the truth that rang silently in his hopeful expression.

"You want to find a power source?" you exclaimed, glancing up to see his eyes grow apprehensive.

Of course he would be wary about this. Every line scribbled, each night of hard work, all amounted to his life's legacy. The weight of his name was placed on loose pages and ink that bled between the compact journal. Running your finger over the foreign symbols etched onto each page and margin, you felt their power—the meaning behind each mark made.

"Viktor it's..." You wanted to call this emotion pride but the word felt minuscule given how much effort had been put into this. "Magnificent."

He grinned, settling back with a sigh of relief. "My partner Jayce—who you will meet tonight—has made a remarkable discovery."

"Remarkable is putting it lightly," you cut in, absentmindedly following the curve of the largest rune on the page, marking it in your memory.

Ducking his head, you watched his hands clasp together tightly, his thumb pressing against the pulse point of his wrist. "I have to do something...that will help."

That much you could understand.

"Ever since I've known you–" Shifting, you felt the skirt of your gown tug upwards—your leg exposed to the slight chill in the evening air. "You wanted to be remembered as a great scientist. Someone whose mind would be their legacy. I think you're closer to that than you think."

He scoffed. "I only told you that to stop the questions."

"About where you came from? Or something else."

The silence gave you enough of an answer. Explanations of his past came with little to no details. Merely stories that were fleeting, sinking beneath the depths long before you got a chance to figure them out entirely. He remained a mystery to you even now. Although...you couldn't say you were any different.

"Did you ever want that for yourself?" He leaned closer, his gaze attempting to pry beneath the depths of your mind.

"No," you breathed, catching one last glance at the sky. "It has always been better for my name to die with me."

"That I don't believe."

"No?" His eyes burned into the side of your face. A silent plea to finally let him in on the secret. To spill about the past you couldn't even accept for yourself.

Even as the years passed quicker than you could comprehend, Viktor never changed. Despite his age now surfacing across his face, he still felt familiar with each new slight wrinkle and faint mark that hadn't been there before. Beneath the fancy clothing and grim expression, he was still the boy you once knew. The ravenous scientist with a hunger to know more.

A man on a never ending journey for knowledge.

"You're brilliant," he said. "You always have been. I never quite understood why you chose to only be a..."

"A healer?" He nodded. "I didn't fit into Topside as smoothly as you did."

Whether he wished to admit it or not, the turmoil that tore through his body and mind was there. Hiding beneath the surface. Even as he refused to meet your gaze. Time may have intertwined you with him, but his dreams remained different—his hopes were vast enough to drag him away from the life you once knew.

Where he found the grandeur of a scientist working for someone brilliant, you found solace in your small shop surrounded with various concoctions and potions. A space that let you be the person you were always meant to be.

"You're talented enough to make a name for yourself. If you let me talk to the counsel–"

"No." The word sliced the air swiftly, silencing him with the sharp end of a whip.

He froze, drawing you out of the stupor your mind hastened to put you in. Upsetting him was the last thing you wanted, but you knew if he didn't stop now things would already be too late. Viktor had a tendency to escalate matters far more than necessary. It's why you were hesitant to even take his call—to give him leeway back into your life like this.

"Why?" he asked, his brows furrowed and eyes piercing through to the depths of your mind.

The answer lay at the back of your tongue—clear and ready to be pronounced with ease. But saying them out loud felt like a feat you'd never be able to manage.

"There are things in my past that are better left where they are," you replied, brushing off the way he looked at you.

A puzzle yet to be figured out. A math problem that held a solution to fix all that was broken.

But that was the thing...you couldn't be fixed. There remained no potion, no herbal remedy that could heal what had torn you to shreds. Who shattered you beyond repair.

Viktor left to pursue his Topside dreams—his pride in himself larger than anything you'd seen. Yet you remained behind. You stayed in the darkness of the Undercity with the promise to one day find him—to celebrate your dreams together. But that was before the battle plans, before you were recruited to help heal those that couldn't heal themselves. Before...him.

When it came down to it, you found yourself in a life far different from the one you dared to imagine with Viktor. The intention to follow him still existed somewhere as a fading dream that might never come true. But once you grew up, saw the world for how it was, you understood why you would never receive the same welcome he did.

You were a soldier first above it all and that was the one thing he would never know.

The secret you held in the confines of your heart.

"My past is the same as yours," he said. "We come from the same land. Surely if they accepted me, they will do the same for you."

You didn't fall in love with the devil.

The words that would never see the sunlight of Topside.

Reaching forward, you pat his knee in a gesture that offered a friendship despite all the secrets. Viktor would do what he wished; you couldn't stop him. That had always been the way of things since you were younger and so it would remain.

Merely two people who once offered to save one another from the bleak aspect of a future ready to eat you alive. Yet now there you were as adults. Sitting close enough to be friends yet miles a part from where you originally started.

You snapped the notebook shut and handed it back to him with a reluctant smile. The distaste of keeping him in the dark was pungent in your mouth, but this choice wasn't up to you to decide. It was always a mutual agreement between two people that were forced to be parted. He wouldn't speak about what happened and you'd do the same.

You were always meant to become a ghost of the Undercity and he a ghost of Topside.

Two fates that were never to intertwine again.

"Tell me," you said, moving to the still open balcony doors. "What's your partner Jayce like?"

He straightened in the chair, relief crossing his face at the realization that he hadn't offended you by pushing too far.

"You will like him."

"Oh I don't know about that," you drawled, a sly smile crossing your lips. "Don't you recall the night of the dinner party?"

He cringed as the memory of that disastrous debacle came to mind. You got into it with a certain doctor he befriended—a man with an ego large enough to choke the very air out of any room. The night ended with you unceremoniously chucking your drink into the man's face to save yourself the harsh act of slapping him. You refused to see Viktor for weeks—your own self worth having been burnt to the ground and defiled.

"I did not know he was going to insult you the way he had."

Scoffing, you leaned your back against the balcony railing. "You knew he wasn't good."

"Unfortunately that I did know." He stood on shaky legs, the clack of his cane against marble echoing off the walls as he joined you. "I can promise that Jayce is nothing like that."

"I'll determine that for myself." You sighed, glancing up at a darkened sky—the stars shimmering bright enough to rival the moon. "Besides, dinner is just us, right? Not a surprise interview to induct me into your hall of science. Because as flattered as I am–"

His laughter spilled over into your chest as he nudged your shoulder with his. "There will be no inducting. Not if you don't wish for it."

"Good." The clock across the room ticked away with expedited force—as if speeding up the flow of time to get you out of here. Yet you found yourself longing to stay, to remain in this small bubble. "Does he know who I am?"

"He knows what I've told him."

"All good I hope," you humored him, offering a placating smile that could be mistaken for charm. In the hopes that you'd make it through this night unscathed.

"There may have been a few stories." Swatting his shoulder, you ignored the shift he made towards you. "Are you okay?"

"Of course." You clutched the railing behind you until your knuckles hurt, your gut filled with the foreboding dread that came with treading the waters of your past. "I'm perfectly okay," you replied confidently.

Even if the words rang with the transparency of a lie.

Piltover at night held no comparison after witnessing the beauty of sunset. Yet after three glasses of wine and a dinner large enough to feed the village, you felt the thrill of excitement fill your chest at the thought of exploring parts you'd yet to see. Looping your arm around Viktor's you fell into step beside him—mere feet behind Jayce and a woman they introduced as Mel.

Of course, you knew who she was. Everyone in the city knew her name, but for the sake of a peaceful dinner void of any politics, you didn't make that fact obvious.

"It was a nice dinner," you said, the breeze off the water skimming the bare skin of your back.

"We should do it again." His voice remained steady, like a piece of home you never thought you'd get back. His eyes however...screamed something entirely different.

A divot in the road you weren't prepared for—one you didn't see yourself wanting.

"We should," you agreed, finding a spot against the railing. The blue of the ocean gleamed beneath the light of the moon. Truly Piltover at its finest. "Maybe next month?"

The irritated sigh slipped past his lips before he could reign it in, but that was all you needed to understand his intentions. You'd been afraid of this since you came to visit him the very first time. An execrable feeling weighed heavy in your stomach as time went on and his silence prevailed.

He stood beside you now with hope in his heart. The voices of Jayce and Mel faded into the background as they walked further away. And you were left with the friend you never wished to lose—the boy you longed to keep knowing.

"I haven't said—I should have said it already but–"

"Viktor," you interrupted, standing upright.

Suddenly the wine and the excessive amount of food didn't sound like a good idea after all. Your heart pounded against your chest, reverberating through your entire body—each nerve alight and waiting for the worst possible scenario to this outcome. He'd been your oldest friend, someone you counted on when you had no one else and the thought of ruining that left you feeling sick.

Each second he looked at you as if you held all the answers to what he pined for made your heart twist painfully.

With a shaky breath, you finally relented to the truth. "I can't."

"What do you mean?" His cheeks flushed vermilion as he fixed his gaze back to the water.

Shutting your eyes to collect your thoughts carefully, you sighed. "I know what you want me—us—to be and I can't...give that to you."

"Oh."

"I do care for you." Somehow the words echoed with hollow deceit, despite how true they felt in your heart.

"It's because of him."

You reared back, startled. "What?"

His eyes—plagued with sorrow deep enough to slice right through you—met yours waiting for a different answer. An explanation as to where your heart belonged. But you stood as still as stone—unable to form thoughts let alone coherent words. He ripped right down to the bone, pulled at your weak tendons and bit down on frayed nerves.

Yet he wasn't done.

"I'm not oblivious. When you finally came to Piltover you wouldn't tell me about what you did when I wasn't there. I only assumed you had feelings for someone. A man you didn't wish to speak about."

You exhaled slowly—the icy chill of relief swallowing you whole. "Oh...yes I...there was someone."

"Do you still love him?"

Glancing across the water, you glimpsed the bridge standing tall—a beacon of this city's hope for progress. But to your eyes it felt like a separation—a division between the two worlds of your life. One filled with enough pain to leave you staggering where you stool and other...a world of grandeur that overflowed with the option of peace.

At one point you had wanted to watch it burn. His betrayal tainted everything good about that place. A scar carved deep enough to leave an everlasting wound that never healed. You longed to forget it—to rid yourself of the memories he plagued—but you still knew one day...you'd stand upon that same ground again.

"I don't know," you breathed, the past clawing its way up your throat—shoving towards the very front of your mind.

BEFORE

The streets were overrun with people as they moved and flowed like the waves on a shore. You felt shoulders knock into you, exasperated glances thrown your way as you fumbled with the plants still gripped in your hands. They grew at the edge of the bridge—hidden in the shadows as a safeguard from the sun. Dirt packed itself beneath your fingernails, mud coating the thin fabric of your pants from where you dug.

"You should really have that looked at," you grumbled, shoving the plant into your satchel.

Garnering no response, you were left to get lost in your own thoughts. Whether or not he was actually in pain didn't concern you. Not when you had a job given by Vander who insisted you focus solely on healing rather than fighting. It's not as if you entirely disagreed with him—you were more than happy being a healer rather than a soldier—you simply couldn't figure how this would help in the long run.

What exactly were you supposed to do when people acted stubborn and brash?

"What are you writing?" he barked, stopping abruptly. You rammed into him with a sneer.

"Nothing that's of any concern to you." Shoving your pen and notebook into the bag, you watched as he huffed in response, turning away. "I'll tell you again since you seem to be hard of hearing. You should really have your wound–" He stopped, eyes flashing over his shoulder with a glare. “–looked at."

"You sure do talk a lot," he snipped.

"It's a gesture of kindness. You don't have to be an ass about it."

How did you manage to get stuck with this man? You were more than capable of sneaking around the border of Topside without anyone's help. Vander assigning you an escort seemed synonymous with the actions of an older brother being overly protective. Yet you weren't related in any way shape or form—you were simply someone who understood the need for change.

Arguing would get you nowhere and so you did your best to ignore his quick glances. Coming up with a correct judgment for what you found took precedence over the man in front of you.

The heat of the day seeped into your clothes—sticking to your exposed skin—the longer you trekked back. If it were possible to steal some time, you'd search for that small pool you and Viktor used to play at—just to submerge yourself in cold water. But with a guard at your side, you were left with only one option. Dreaming about weather cooler than this.

"You're walking too slow," he called over his shoulder.

The desperation for escape called to you, begged you to leave him behind and go somewhere quiet. But before you could sprint in the opposite direction, he turned. Ignoring him didn't seem to be a well thought out solution, but that never stopped you from trying. Even as he glared at you.

What little sunlight remained began to dip below the horizon—a sight you'd neve grow tired of. If only you had the chance to see it over the ocean with a clear sky above.

"You need that fixed before we return." Avoiding the incensed glare directed your way, you settled on the edge of a wall.

"What I need is for you to keep going. So I can go home."

"Listen—whoever you are—I know that when you return you're going to be questioned about why you're in pain. Either you let me patch up that wound or you get Vander. Your pick."

The arguing ceased with a defiant raise of your brows, lips curling into a sly grin that pinned him where he stood. There really was no other option than submission. What was a quick check before you were on your merry way. Much to your delight, he seemed to come to the same conclusion as he joined you on the wall, undoing his vest with an indignant sigh.

Silence filled the empty space between you. Slipping between the cracks and shadows that cast across his angular face. You'd seen him before on the edge of your vision, leaning against the bar with a book in his face—long fingers trailing the rim of his glass absentmindedly. Whether you liked it or not, the two of you differed.

Where you wanted to roam, he longed to be back making plans with Vander instead of trapped in the task of guard duty for a healer he'd never met before.

"Who shot you?" The glow of sunset illuminated the pale skin beneath his shirt—a long jagged scar etched into the skin threw you off for a moment as your fingers searched for blood.

The sharp wince in his face said you'd found it. "I couldn't see their face."

Nodding, you moved his hand to keep the fabric up and out of the way. A quick rummage in your bag for the salve you made earlier caught his attention—turquoise gleamed in your peripheral, prying you open with enough ease to jar you down to the bone.

"The bullet only scraped you. This should help close it up by the end of the week." You pressed the dark mixture along his wound, catching the subtle flinch he tried to smother. "Sorry."

"I'm fine," he mumbled in a whispered tone.

"I can fix it up properly when we return. Get you a real bandage to keep it from getting worse."

You nearly missed it. That slow imperceptible grin that curled at the edge of his lips. But your eyes latched onto it like a kid with candy, savoring the quick glimpse of something surreal. It threw you off balance, forced you to reckon with the thought of never knowing him before today.

Ethereal. Empyrean.

He sat before you a stranger with the eyes of a fond ally. A friend you had yet to be properly introduced to. It seemed he harbored the same thought—his mouth forming the question as if it fell right out of your head and into his lap.

"You're a friend of Vander?" Slipping his vest back on, you noticed he left it unbuttoned.

You found you preferred it that way.

"So are you. I've seen you...uh...with him. Around the bar you know."

The quiet echo of the water lapping at rocks and voices in the distance didn't feel bitter, but rather settled the nerves leaping beneath your skin. It was nice to sit there and watch the night sky show itself to the world once again. Eventually you'd be forced to return to a life that teemed with a clear understanding that hung over everyone's heads. There would be a fight. An inevitable battle for what you believed was right.

But for this transcendent moment you basked in the few moments of peace life allotted you.

The calm before the storm.

"I don't know your name," you admitted, turning your head slightly to catch his gaze already faced in your direction. "Vander never told me."

If he caught you in the middle of a blatant lie, he didn't call you on it. You could tell he saw right through you—the glint in his eyes shining brighter than moments before. This wasn't a clarification for Vander's sake or the battle. You wanted to know his name for yourself. A small token of the man you may never interact with again save for tonight.

After a moment his voice came with a soft breath of air. "Silco."

Teeth dug into your lip to keep the blooming smile at bay. "Silco," you said under your breath.

He latched onto it, dug his fingers into the tangible feeling they created in his chest, and felt a smile pulling wider at his own mouth. You said it again, unable to stop yourself as a thrill of excitement fluttered at the base of your stomach. So simple, so smooth off the tip of your tongue. Yet filled with enough power to stir your chest with a feeling you wished to inspect further.

The lilt of it hung in the air as you turned back to the sky with a satisfied hum, relishing in the time you had left with him at your side.

[tyrian-witch]

Some B.S.

(Steve x Reader)

Synopsis: after a dumb fight with your mom, you call Steve to take you away from your troubles

Warnings: not super proof read, mentions of dysfunctional family, hurt/comfort, fluff, established relationship, Steve being an awesome supportive bf

A/N: don’t worry, I’m working on chapter four of In This World of My Own but this was kind of a vent post and I had to write it out :p don’t mind me

~~~

“Hey, can you pick me up?” you say softly through the receiver. “I need to get out of here.”

Your boyfriend clear his throat on the other end. He must have been asleep and now you feel bad for even calling. “Yeah, of course,” he says, half awake. “I’ll be over in ten, is everything okay?” Despite his sleepy state, he didn’t miss the the way your voice cracked; he knew something was up.

Sniffling, you shake your head. “I don’t even- frickinknow at this point.”

“Just hang in there babe, I’m coming to get you. I love you.”

“I love you too.”

He hangs up and immediately throws on a pair of jeans and his navy blue sweater which he’s come to understand is your favourite one whenever he wears it. Slipping on his shoes, he snatches his keys and jacket, and soon enough, he’s on his way to you.

~~~

Steve’s car is parked a block away from your house, the streetlights illuminating his prized BMW you’ve become so familiar with in the past few years you’ve known each other before dating. You approach the car with your arms tightly crossed against your chest, an action Steve’s come to associate with any time you feel upset about something- not in a childish manner, more so as a gesture of feeling small or remorseful about whatever just transpired, not that it was really your fault. Often, you usually only do it after you’ve had a silly fight with your mom.

Sighing heavily, you sit down in your designated spot next to Steve in the car, the warmth of it enveloping you, along with his scent which has brought you comfort countless times, including tonight. You reach over and give him a big hug and he wastes no time in holding you close to him.

He places a kiss on top of your hair while caressing it.“What’s going on, honey?” he asks softly.

You pull away from the hug and swipe a hand down your face, another sniffle escaping you. “It’s just…” you shake your head in disbelief. “It’s just another one of those- stupid fricking arguments,” you grumble. “Like, I can’t even- like-”

“Hey, hey, it’s okay,” he coaxes gently, rubbing soothing circles on your back. “Take your time.”

Curling in yourself, you rest your head against your knees. “Can we drive around for a bit?” you ask, your voice small and timid.

“Yeah, of course babe, where’d you wanna go?” He begins backing out of the parking space, putting a hand behind the head of your seat to make sure nothing was in the way, and then drives forward.

He sees you shrug from the corner of his eye before you answer. “Maybe we could stop for a milkshake?”

“Yeah? A milkshake?”

You nod.

He smiles in adoration. “Okay, let’s get you a milkshake.”

~~~

You end up parked on an empty street with your milkshake of choice in hand, the plastic cup cool against your palms. It makes you shiver, but the rush of sugar lets you ignore the cold sensation. Steve has one of his own, and occasionally you switch between the drinks to get a taste of the other flavour.

“Okay,” Steve starts gently. “Do you wanna talk about it now?”

You nod while sipping on the drink.

He waits patiently as you muster up your words, the soft look in his gaze never faltering.

“Okay, so basically…” you clear the sweet taste from your throat. “What happened… is honestly… so…” you pause in between your words, trying to find the best way to put it into an explanation. “Stupid. It’s just plain stupid.” Throwing your hands up in the air as a tell tale sign of exasperation, you continue. “And the thing is, and- this is honestly so hilarious, it’s the most hilarious thing ever, you’re gonna laugh- I forgot to put mayonnaise on the corn bits that were cut up for my brother!”

Steve blinks once in amazement. “I… what??”

You raise your eyebrows and nod. “Yup.”

“So let me get this straight: your mom got upset at you because you forgot to put mayonnaise on Donnie’s corn?”

“Yeah, and it was an honest mistake that I forgot! I literally forgot and it’s even funnier because I was gonna have my own corn on the cob with mayonnaise and I was ready to warm it up in the microwave! I didn’t even think twice, I just took his plate out when it was done warming up and I brought it to him, and then I was going to put mine in and then my mom saw and that’s when the whole thing happened. Honest to god.” You’re breathing heavily after all the words have spilled out in a rush, trying to make sense of things.

“I told her it wasn’t that big of a deal, as if I can’t bring the plate back and add mayonnaise myself. Hell, Donnie can do it himself, he’s ten years old!”

Steve is staring into space as he’s listening; he’s trying to make sense of it too, he’s just as lost.

“Well, that’s not really the point, the point is I know Donnie eats corn with mayo, it’s common sense at this point, but I guess I was just so hungry that I was ready to put my own plate in the microwave. Again: without a second thought. I just forgot! But god forbid if I forget anything, it’s like the end of the fucking world. And it was for Donnie anyways! Not for her! I would understand if he was upset about it, then yeah, okay, but c’mon! Seriously?!”

Taking an angry slurp from your drink, you sink into your seat, feeling more worked up than you were before.

“I mean, yeah I get it,” Steve says, thinking of how to help. “If he was mad, then yeah okay, but it’s not like it couldn’t be fixed. I don’t get why she’s upset. If I was her, I wouldn’t even have you feeling the way you do.” He looks at you and rests a gentle hand on your cheek. “I would never put you through something like this over something so stupid.”

You scoff at the whole situation. “I know. It is stupid. It’s more than stupid, it’s- it’s bullshit!” Something clicks in your mind, and you can’t help but laugh. “She treats me like bullshit! She always always always has something to say! She always judges me and she loves to compare me to my sorry excuse of a dad.” The words roll of your tongue like venomous vigour and contempt, and in the midst of your rambling, Steve’s hand has left your face; he’s learned that when you get this way, it’s best to give you some space, he knows affection will be welcomed back afterwards.

“And obviously when I told her it wasn’t that big of a deal, that I could easily fix the problem, she got mad and said that I was patronizing her because I told her the same thing my dad always did: “it’s not a big deal.” Well news flash! It’s not! The world didn’t shut down, did it!? And I’m not my fucking father! I’m not! It’s like she only sees him in me, that’s why she always judges me and never sees me for me. To her, I’m only an extension of him, not separate from him, not as an individual, not as myself, just him.” Your chest is heaving up and down as you try to calm yourself. In a fit of rage, it’s like everything makes sense to you now.

Exhaling sharply, you take your boyfriend’s hand in yours and squeeze before letting go. “It sucks,” you tell him finally. “She’s never understood me. She doesn’t even try. But she’ll actively try to understand Donnie because she sees herself in him.”

You sit in silence for a little while to regain your tranquility, leaning your head against the dashboard. Steve is the first to break the silence.

“You know something?” he asks. “You’re right. It is bullshit. This whole thing is bullshit!”

You perk up at this but don’t say anything - he takes it as a sign to continue.

“It’s bullshit that she doesnt understand you, Y/n. I mean, I understand what that’s like, I mean my own dad is a complete asshole, and my mom well… I don’t know, she’s totally different from yours, but this isn’t about my family issues.” He takes your hands in his, causing you to sit up and take in his words. “It’s bullshit that she doesn’t think you’re a human being who forgets things. Sure, maybe you forget very often, but that’s not even bad. I would never hold that against you ever.”

Biting your quivering lip, you look away to avoid him from seeing your glassy eyes, but he gently tilts your face to look back at him.

“Baby, you are nothing like your dad. Not even a little bit. I know you hate being compared to him, and I’m sorry you’re constantly being misunderstood. I love you for you. I see you.”

Those last few words are what makes you let it all come crashing down as you cry into his chest, hands gripping the navy sweater tightly, hanging on for dear life. Heaving sobs rack through your body and bones as he holds you close to him and kisses the crown of your head, gently caressing your hair.

The milkshakes are long forgotten at this point, and as Steve keeps you close to his heart, he continues to remind you that he understands you, that you are human and make mistakes, simple mistakes like any other. When your crying dies down, you finally give him a kiss. You hadn’t kissed him since you set foot in his car. He kisses you back, slowly and softly, his hands cupping your face as he gingerly wipes away the remaining tears from your red cheeks.

The kiss is your way of telling him ‘thank you for being here, for understanding me’ and in reply, it’s his way of saying ‘I will always be here for you, no matter what.’

[anyca786]

"TEN YEARS CAN CHANGE EVERYTHING"

Daemon Targaryen x sister/aunt!Targaryen x Rhaenyra Targaryen

WARNINGS: canon typical incest/targcest (brother & sister &niece) poly relationship, family drama.

Series

The moon cast an ethereal glow over the beach as Daenys stirred from her sleep. A warm hand touched her shoulder, rousing her from her slumber.

She opened her eyes to find Daemon standing beside her, "We need to go," he said, his voice low and urgent.

Daenys sat up, her heart pounding in her chest. "What's wrong?" reading his face, she asked.

"The guards are looking for us," Daemon replied.

"The children are in trouble." Rhaenyra said, who was already dressed up. Daenys scrambled to her feet, her mind racing. She pulled on her clothes, her movements hurried and clumsy. Daemon helped her zip up her dress, his hands gentle but firm.

"We need to hurry," Rhaenyra said, her voice filled with panic.

Daenys nodded, her heart pounding in her chest. Without a word, she followed Daemon and Rhaenyra as they hurried towards the castle, their footsteps imprinted on the beach.

🥀

The doors open as Daenys and Rhaenyra wasted no time going over to their children, "Jace? Luke? Luke!" Rhaenyra's eyes darted to Luke's nose, as she examined it, "Show me, show me."

Rhaenys was consoling Baela and Rhaena wearing an expression of horror and mixed anger.

Daenys ushered for Baela and Rhaena to stand close making the girls quickly move into her nurturing embrace, looking wide-eyed and frightened, "Gods what happened? Who did this to you? I'll skin them alive." She turned her head to the people across the room and then her eyes stopped at where Alicent stood with Aemond.

'What happened - who did this?" Rhaenyra's eyes trained on the boys and Baela and Rhaena.

Daemon stood by the door observing the situation. He looked quite smug seeing the damage done to the boy, Aemond. His daughters sported only a few cuts, if anything he wasn't concerned much knowing Daenys would take care of it.

"They attacked me!"

"He attacked Baela!"

"He broke Luke's nose!"

All the children started arguing with one another.

"Enough..." the King's commands were deaf in people's ears until he raised his voice, "Enough -"

Alicent started to yell, "It should be my son telling the tale!"

'He called us -" Jace was about to finish his sentence when the King yelled "SILENCE!"

'He called us bastards!" Jace whispered to his mother

That was all Rhaenyra needed to hear. Rhaenyra stood tall holding Luke and Jace's hands, she could she Daenys fuming with anger, who couldn't help but pull Luke's curls back in a comforting manner and protective manner.

"Aemond, I will have the truth of what happened." Viserys walked over to his son, his cane echoed at each word, "Now."

"What else is there to hear," Alicent speaks up, wanting to defend her son. "Your son has been maimed. Her son is responsible,"' she tells the King and pointed toward Luke who was hiding between his mother and brother.

"It was a regrettable accident,"' Rhaenyra tells Alicent, who doesn't care because, in her point of view, it was punishment enough for calling her children bastards and giving a small injuries to Daemon's daughters as well.

"Accident?" Alicent scoffed, walking closer to Rhaenyra. "The Prince Lucerys brought a blade to an ambush. He meant to kill my son."

"Do you even hear yourself, Alicent?," Daenys voiced, seeing how frightened Lucaerys looked, "He's a child"

"It was my sons who were attacked and were forced to defend themselves," Rhaenyra stated, "Vile insults were levied against them,"

The King turned to his daughter with narrowed eyes, "What insults?"

"The legitimacy of my children's birth was put to question." Rhaenyra said.

"What?" the King asked, not wanting to think that Aemond would say such a thing to Rhaenyra's children.

"He called us bastards." The boy's said out loud.

The smirk plastered on Aemond's face was enough for Daenys, she look at Alicent knowing exactly where he had learned those words.

"My sons are in line to inherit the Iron Throne, Your Grace," Rhaenyra argued, "This is the highest of treasons. Prince Aemond must be sharply questioned so we might learn where he heard such slanders,'

"Over an insult?" Alicent asked fumingly and the King slowly made his way over to Aemond, "My son has lost an eye!"

"You tell me, boy," Where did you hear this lie?" the King asked.

"The insults were training yard bluster. The yard of boys was nothing." Alicent tries to hide it. Daenys' eyes met Daemon, who was throughly enjoying this mess.

"Aemond, I asked you a question." the King said sternly. He wanted to know who would say such vile things about his grandsons.

"Where is Ser Laenor, I wonder? the children's father? Perhaps he might have something to say in this matter," Alicent tries to move the King's attention away from Aemond to protect her precious boy.

'Yes, where is Ser Laenor?" the King questioned Rhaenyra.

"I do not know, Your Grace.. could not find sleep. I went out to walk." Rhaenyra lied, sharing a glance at Daenys.

"Entertaining his young squires, I would venture," Alicent said, trying to keep the attention off Aemond. Ser Criston Cole chuckled, which did not go unnoticed by Daenys.

"Aemond, Look at me," Viserys said to his son, "Your Kingdom earns an answer," Aemond looks at his mother, "Who spoke these lies to you?," he asked again.

"Everyone knows where those lies came from." Daenys spoke up once more this time making her side known, her eyes filled with sorrow and outrage.

Aemond looked at his Aunt Daenys, his father adored her a lot. Growing up he had heard tales of her beauty, fiercenes and strong will and determination.

Aemond bowed his head ashamed, 'It was Aegon.'" Aemond lied, not wanting the blame to fall on his mother.

"Me?" Aegon asked hurt that his brother threw him under the bus. He was terrified now that Aemond shifted the attention to him.

The King turned to his eldest son and walked as his cane allowed him to."And you boy? Where did you hear such calumnies?" Viserys questioned Aegon.

When Aegon did not answer he looked down at his feet, The last piece of patience left the frail man, "AEGON! tell me the truth about it!"

'We know, father. Everyone knows." Aegon answered looking at Rhaenyra and her children as she had held them close "Just look at them"

Indeed Rhaenyra's sons harbored no resemblance to their father Ser Laenor with their dark hair and brown eyes. Holding no resemblance to Targaryens either.

The people in the room went silent, Daenys heart was pounding. The majority knew the truth yet Viserys chooses to remain in denial.

"The interminable infighting must cease!" Viserys demands He was shouting at all those who were present, not only at his blood. To everyone else that had something to say. His face was exhausted like he was trying not to break down to tears, "All of you! We are a family! Now make your apologies and show goodwill to one another. Your father, your grandsire, your King demands it!"

"That is insufficient," Alicent argued, as Viserys made his way to leave, "Aemond has been damaged permanently, My King. Goodwill cannot make him whole," Alicent beseeched desperately.

"I know Alicent, but I cannot restore his eye," Viserys reasoned with his wife.

"No, because it has been taken," Alicent yells at the King wanting to draw blood in revenge.

"What would you have me do?" Viserys asked.

"There is a debt to be paid," Alicent tells him and looks straight at Rhaenyra, and then to her sons. "I shall have one of her children's eyes in return."

"The fuck you will" Daenys said this time, fuming with anger. She could feel Rhaenyra holding her robe for her to not go near Alicent.

"My dear wife,-" Viserys tried to get some sense into her head, but in vain, ""He is your son, Viserys. Your blood." Alicent tries to reason vulnerable.

"Do not..allow your temper to guide your judgment, Viserys said to alicent and tried to leave the room, closing the matter.

'If the King do not seek justice, then the Queen will, Alicent decides, and looks at Ser Criston. Their hatred for Princess Rhaenyra had grown over the years. "Ser Criston, bring me the eye of Lucerys Velaryon" she demanded.

"Mother!" Luke cries out again, moving closer behind Rhaenyra. Daenys wasted no time, handing her daughters to Rhaenys's protection and shielding Rhaenyra and her sons from the chaos.

"They can choose which eye they can keep and who will give it, a privilege that my son was not granted," Alicent told Ser Criston.

"You will do no such thing!" Viserys commanded.

"Stay your hand!" Ser Harrold commanded Ser Criston.

"No, you are sworn to me!" Alicent shouted at Ser Criston, waiting for him to strike,

"Do not move, Ser Criston," Daenys said.

"As your protector My Queen," Ser Criston corrected while looking conflicted, Ser Criston always had a liking of the Realm's Beauty.

Viserys once again tells her that it is over. "Anyone that questions Rhaenyra's children would have their tongues cut out."

"Thank you, Father," Rhaenyra said graciously and turned her back to check on her children, Daenys wiped the blood running down Luke's nose with her handkerchief.

Seeing that Rhaenyra won once again, Alicent saw red. Alicent briskly made her way over to the King and grabbed the blade attached to his hip. She made her way over straight at the Targaryen women.

Ser Harrold runs down the steps and past the King, as Cole tries move past the people and straight to Rhaenyra and her children. The screams of the children could be heard in the commotion.

Before Alicent could strike at Rhaenyra, Daenys stepped in front, just in time to grab ahold of her arm and keep the dagger from inflicting harm on her niece, her lover.

"Daenys!" It was the sound of Daemon trying to make his way over. "Daenys!" Rhaenyra panicked, trying to steady her by holding her waist protectively.

'-Alicent stop this madness, before it goes too far,"Daenys said, struggling to hold her back. She could feel Rhaenyra's hands on her hips trying to steady her fall.

Daemon stopped Ser Criston from getting into the circle.

Alicent snarled seeing Rhaenyra's head over Daenys's shoulder, "You've gone too far!" Rhaenyra snapped at her.

"I-" Alicent answered in distress, "Alicent do not do this," Daenys said trying to keep her away from Rhaenyra.

Ignoring Daenys, Alicent spoke to Rhaenyra, "What have I done, of what was expected of me. Forever upholding the kingdom, the family, the law, while you ......." Daenys vision was getting blurry and sounds become muffled.

"But now they see you as you are", Daenys heard Rhaenyra clear, Alicent squeezed Daenys's shoulder causing her to yell out in pain, "How could you defend her?"

Daenys lets out a breath and stared deep into her forest eyes. "I scarcely even recognize you now, Alicent" she bit back. "You're turning into your father.'" Her eyes wandered to Otto. The words stab her deeply and Alicent let out a frustrated scream.

"Release the blade Alicent!" Otto ordered his daughter.

"Get the fuck away!" Daemon fought through, slightly panicked. Alicent pushed all her body weight and brought the blade down, slashing down at her collar bone area, close to her throat.

"No!" Rhaenyra screamed, trying to take the dagger away from Alicent but in the process, slicing her own wrist.

Drops of warm blood hit the stone floors. The Valyrian blade lodged deep into their porcelain skin. Shock settled into the room.

"I..' Alicent tried to speak but Daenys stepped back into Daemon's arms.

Rhaenyra thought Alicent wasn't capable of murder. She remembered the conversations on the beach she had with Daemon, when Daenys was asleep.Perhaps the Queen was capable of it. All these years was enough to change a person.

Viserys stood beside Alicent, who stood frozen and stared at the blade that has fallen from her grip.

Lord Corlys had caught Rhaenyra's shoulder who panicked more on seeing Daenys vulnerable.

"Stay with me- It's okay Look at me-" Daemon said calmly with a hint of anxiousness, when he saw her eyes closing slowly.

"Nyra, Daem-" she tried but darkness consumedand she falls in Daemon's arms.

It was as if the whole room was divided.Aemond had made his way over from his chair, " Do not mourn me, mother. It was a fair exchange. I may have lost an eye..but I gained a dragon."

Criston went to Alicent's side and picked up the knife. He seemed to have also been staring at both the wounded Princess speechless. Hoping Princess Daenys was alright.

Daemon lifted her off the floor and carried her out of the room. Rhaenys, Baela, and Rhaena followed after.

Alicent impulsively attempted to go after Daenys. She did not meant for her to get hurt in this, but she was stopped by Daemon,"You and your children caused enough trouble tonight," Daemon sneered at her and Alicent's children, "Nearly stealing away her life. Hope you satisfied with your debt" He said as he walked away with Daenys in his arms.

One by one Viserys watched his family leave and felt his heart break over again seeing his family in shambles all because of Alicent.

"Your son has disrespected the House Velaryon -my daughter who has been put to rest! Your wife who chose to inflict harm on your own daughter and sister. Pack up your things and once the sun is up you will leave Driftmark. You will not be welcome with your family anymore." Corlys roared infuriated and fed up with the amount of insolence his family had faced.

🥀

Daenys was resting in her bed chambers with Daemon holding her hand. Viserys, Rhaenys, Baela and Rhaena were right there when she woke up.

Viserys almost cried again seeing his beloved younger sister awake and was relieved. He pressed a kiss on her forehead and apologized for Alicent's behavior. He wanted to stay longer but the frail man still needed to deal with the actions of his wife and try to make amends with Lord Corlys.

"Thank the Gods, that the dagger did not puncture deeply into the flesh, otherwise... things would have gone differently," The Maester said as he examined the wound. "A small few stitches and proper rest will do,"

Daemon kissed her temple, "Anything else?" He asked the Maester. The Maester smiled and said, "Just take care of her, my Prince," and left.

Rhaenys who was pacing back and forth in the room sighed in relief. Baela and Rhaena were patched up by another Maester for the small cuts and bruises.

Daenys groaned in pain as the milk of the poppy was starting to wear off.

Baela peered up "Are you in pain, Muña?"

Daemon was slightly taken back hearing his daughters refer Daenys as their mother for the first time.

'I'Il be all well, it doesn't hurt much." Daenys sat up slowly with the help of Daemon. "You forget that I've had far worst injures than this before,"

Rhaena shook her head in guilt, "It's our fault that you got hurt."

"Oh my sweet girls, do not blame yourselves for this," Daenys said with compassion and opened her arms for them. The girls carefully climbed up the bed and enveloped her into a hug. The sight made Daemon's heart melt.

The doors of her bed chambers opened, as Rhaenyra peaked inside,"Come in, Rhaenyra" Daenys said with a smile. Rhaneys left and the girls bid their goodbye by giving both Daemon and Daenys kisses on their cheeks.

Once the doors shut Rhaenyra focused her attention on the most beautiful Targaryen woman sitting underneath the duvet covers. She looked more pale and it was most likely due to the blood loss. Guilt ran through Rhaenyra's body. It was all her fault, she thought.

She immediately rushed to her side and let out a soft gasp as tears fell from her porcelain cheeks, "I'm so sorry, my love-this shouldn't have happened to you. This is my fault,"

"Rhaenyra, I'm well. Just a little light headed due to the milk and poppy." Daenys clasped her hand gently to calm her down.

Daemon cupped her face in his hands to stare at her before sighing in relief, then pulled her into his embrace, "I'm happy that you stood up for Rhaenyra but your carelessness could have gotten you killed, my love"

"I did not expect her to be like this. Alicent has never been like this. She was such a sweet girl," Daenys said, her voice muffled as she was still in Daemon's embrace. She remembered the days when the three girls would sit and gossip about anything and everything, the fun they had and the bond they shared back when they all were younger.

"Ten years can change everything," Daemon said.

Suddenly Daenys groaned in pain.

"Did I hurt you? Are you in pain?," Daemon asked this time, sitting on the side of her bed.

"No, it's just that the milk of the poppy is wearing off," she said. She looked at Rhaenyra's bandaged wrist and asked, "How is your wrist, my love?"

"Had a few stitches. The Maester said it will be heal sooner than yours," Rhaenyra said. Daenys smiled at her niece. How she had grown and now a mother of three.

"Come sit," she gestures Rhaenyra to sit on the other side of the bed. Rhaenyra smiled and happily compiled.

"Enough about me, I want to know about yor life, these past years," Rhaenyra smiled when Daenys cuddled to her side, "How is little Joffrey?" Daenys asked her.

For the first time, Rhaenyra wore a genuine smile, as Daenys cuddled at her side and Daemon retells them the stories of his travels. A family she always wanted, she thought.

As they continue to tell stories about their children and more, Daenys eyes began to slowly get heavy due to exhaustion. Within a few minutes, light snores escaped her mouth.

Both Daemon and Daenys smiled at the sight of their beloved. Daemon gently helped her into a more comfortable position. As Daenys was asleep, Rhaenyra spoke to Daemon, "We need to talk,"

Daemon and Rhaenyra carefully closed the doors of Daenys's bed chambers and walked out towards the terrace. They stood there admiring the vast sea. The sea winds running through their silver hair, the smell of salt and sea familiar to both.

"I need you, Uncle," Rhaenyra broke the silence, Daemon didn't say anything but just stared at the horizon. "I need you both," this time he looks at her face.

"I cannot face the Greens alone," she spoke in High Valyrian, "Let us bind our blood, Just as Aegon the Conqueror and his sisters"

"With you as my husband, my King Consort and Daenys as our wife, Queen Consort, my claim would not be so easily challenged,"

Daemon stares at her, "The Velaryons are the sea. But you, Daenys and I are are made of fire," Daemon turns and takes a seat on the wall of the terrace.

"We have always meant to be burned together," She continued. Finally Daemon spoke," We could not marry unless Laenor was dead,"

Rhaenyra stood silent for a moment," I know," she said. Their eyes exchanged a knowing look.

A/N- Filler chapter. Family drama. Wedding bells ringing soon.

Quick question- Would you like a daughter or son for Daenys?

[allisie]

Hi, I love your writing ❤️

could I request something for Nate? like he and the reader are fighting and she gets hurt because he scared her and then he apologize? thank you 🥰

Simply Us

nate jacobs x reader

Euphoria Masterlist

NB // for some reason, when asked to write kinda angst stuff, I almost never follow script.

⚠️ warning ⚠️: Nate being a closer representation of his tv counter part, talk of insecurities, nate choking reader,

"Your fucking him aren't you. You trap me into this picture-perfect relationship and then go open your legs behind my back. Huh," Nate whispers into my ear. I had just gotten back from hanging out with Fez all evening at the convenience store.

"Jacobs what the fuck are you talking about," I ask.

"I should have known you're just like her, just repackaged. At least she looked the part of my perfect girl. At least she had the decency to do that much work in the relationship," Nate continued, his voice getting louder. Nate put his hands on the counter in front of me, effectively trapping me as he pushed his body onto mine.

"Why are you saying this? I didn't do shit. What are you talking about? I love you and you alone," you whisper, turning to face him. Placing your water on the counter.

"Did I say shit about love....... and you should be the first to know you don't need love to fuck someone. How can I ever trust you again" Nate moved his hands to my head.

"That's the thing with relationships, nate. You have to trust the other person in the relationship," I reply, my eyes searching his face for any signs of him believing my words.

"And have I ever, tested your trust. Tell me, when have I ever made you question my love for you," He asks, his hands moving to my neck. His eyes stared into mine.

"First month into dating, you still left flowers in Maddy's locker every day. Drove her to school, stayed at her house when you got wasted drunk," I state without a second of hesitation. Nate made me feel second to Maddie early in our relationship, and I would have left if it wasn't for the night he realised that I wouldn't stay if he didn't stop.

"Shut the fuck up," Nate shouts, "That was forever ago."

"Two hundred and seventy-nine days. You have no idea what it feels like being in a relationship with someone who loves someone else, but what else would I expect from THE NATE JACOBS, STAR QUARTERBACK, you will never have to feel how I felt," I shouted back.

"Shut the fuck up, you don't know what your talking about, you don't know me," Nate replied, his grip around my neck tightening.

"But I do, Nate. I have loved you since I was ten. Before Maddy, before you decided to become the buffest guy in the grade, I loved you when no one knew who you were in school. Then it all changed in one summer," I reply softly, my eyes filled with tears and my hands around his wrists.

"SHUT THE FUCK UP! SHUT UP!! SHUT UP! YOU KNOW NOTHING!!" Nate shouts, his face turning red and his grip on my throat increasing.

"THEN TELL ME! OR AM I NOT GOOD ENOUGH!! MAYBE I SHOULD GO GET MADDY!" I shout back before reaching up and slapping Nate across his face. Nate grip loosens around my neck as he tales a step back, and I move, putting more distance between us.

"I swear to god, I will kill you," Nate states after regaining his bearings. His eyes locked onto me.

"Do your worse. Just know that I love you until my last breath," I respond, tears falling down my face.

It was a couple of hours before we could look each other in the face. My neck had started to bruise in the shape of Nate's hand, and his face was scratched from my nails. I hid away in his bedroom while he sat in his bathroom. Walking out of his bathroom, Nate sees me sitting on his bed, my clothes exchanged for one of his shirts, and my hair pulled out of my face.

"Your hurt," Nate whispers.

"It doesn't matter, are you okay. Did I hurt you," I respond as I start to get out of bed.

"Yeah, I am fine. Let me take a look at you," Nate states, making his way over to me before I could even put my foot on the ground. He gently moves my head so he can see my bruising neck, "That looks serious. It's starting to bruise badly."

"I'll just cover it up. It's fine. You didn't mean it," I whisper as I wrap my arms around his neck.

"Stop justifying that shit. You should be running from me. Why are you so calm right now?" He asks before I pull him down into a kiss.

"I love you," I whisper again his lips.

"Your fucking crazy, you know that right,"

"Isn't that why you love me tho," I say, pulling him into another kiss.

"I am sorry," Nate whispers.

"I know," I whisper back.

[nowimjustastranger]

What would stcmo!ford do if he met a stan who was in his homeless years that was completely apathetic/distrustful of stanford? His future if checked by stcmo!ford's tech dictates that this stan will die on the streets if stan never reconciled with stanford ( his version of ford has a high chance of wanting reconcilement), but even if stcmo!ford wants to help, this stan just really doesn't want to deal with his brother in any shape or form.

First, Ford 419"3 would have to prove to Stan that his brother wants to reconnect/still cares about him, so Ford would do some morally questionable shit to go about doing that (but what's new). So, Ford would scruff Stan like a misbehaving puppy and bring him to the nearest payphone, tampering with it so Stan would be able to hear the conversation.

Then, Ford would turn on his built-in voice modulator and call Stanford. When Stanford picks up, Ford immediately states that he has Stanford's brother, pointedly giving Stan a little shake to prompt him to mutter a dry greeting.

Stan would probably be thrown that his brother was seriously considering paying up on his behalf, outright bewildered when Stanford agreed to meet at a location of Ford's choosing with the money. Ford warns him that if he gets the police involved, they'll never find Stan's body.

Stanford would instantly be put on edge, warily asking what Ford's intentions are. Ford simply says that Stan got mixed up with the wrong people so he owes a lot of money and, either Stanford pays off Stan's debt, or Stan's organs are harvested and sold on the black market.

Stanford and Stan are understandably shaken by this ominous statement, Stanford recovering in record time and simply demanding how much would be needed. Ford gives him a ridiculously high number without making it impossible to realistically scrounge up.

With that, he rattles off an address and hangs up, returning the payphone to it's original state. Honestly, I can see Stan swinging on Ford at this point, the two briefly brawling until Ford got Stan pinned and waited his anger out. When Stan begrudgingly calmed, Ford would let him up and march him back to his car.

Cue an involuntary road trip lol. Ford would get to the heart of the matter while they were on the road, peeling Stan back layer by layer until he understood what the problem was. Then, he'd brainstorm ways to fix it so, by the time they reached their destination, Stan would be open to at least trying to talk to his brother. Ford can't make them reconcile, but he can lay down the groundwork to rebuilding their relationship and the lost trust between them.

I feel like Stan would eventually grow fond of Ford since they'd be stuck in close quarters, the two making conversation and even talking about the harder stuff. Stan would have questions about what Ford does, why he's so old, and what happened to his own Stan. Ford would answer honestly, cultivating trust between them as well as a judgement free environment that would ake it easier for Stan to open up too.

Upon meeting Stanford at the location, Ford would have one of his devices count the cash before he brought it into the back to where Stan was waiting and handed the bag to him. Ford would tell him that every dollar was there and that maybe Stan should think about giving him another chance to be Stan's brother.

Ford would hang back as Stan returned the bag of money to Stanford, which would make him panic and demand that Stan rethink his decision because it's just money and Stanford can get more but he only has one brother and please Stan don't throw your life away-

But he's cut off when Stan hugs him tight, spinning the tale that Stan knocked the bastard out and that they should get out of here with the cash while he's down. Stanford would be relieved that there was only one guy, agreeing to leave and call the police, to which Stan refuses and convinces Stanford to just leave it alone because an investigation would just stir up the hornets nest. Stanford reluctantly agreed and the two left, taking their respective cars and driving back to Stanford's place to have an actual conversation.

[prettyboykatsuki]

wyll whos nice and kind down to his bones but develops a nasty jealousy streak….tugs you back behind some secluded corner of camp to kiss you something fierce when he catches how others at camp look upon you…starts smoking a cigarette

steadily yours | w. ravengard

✮ tags ; jealousy, established relationship, gn!reader, kissing / hickies, alcohol, silly and lovesick wyll

✮ wc ; 2k

✮ a/n ; ive thought about this ask for a week straight. its getting dire.

some minor spoilers for wylls romance like extremely minor and vauge!!! i am only just entering act three so pls dont spoil me but this take place vaugely post game lololol

The Blade of Frontiers is a good man.

This isn't a title he's given himself, but one bestowed upon him. Through tales and songs all across the city and uttered from the very lips of his lover - Wyll Ravengard has always strived to be a good man.

He can't assert this by any measure, but he knows best his own effort. For the sake of the city, for the sake of his people, for the sake of love. He wants very little to himself, and he fights with every ounce of him. His heart is in the city, but his soul is with you. Between these two places, there's no amount of sacrifice or burden he isn't willing to bear.

Part of being a good man is being the master of your own desires. What other men do is none of Wyll's concern, but he's always been adamant about keeping firmly on the straight path. Wyll wants love properly, much like how he wishes the world around him would follow.

Properly, with order and justice and care. That's how Wyll has lived his whole life.

And he's believed of himself that loving that way came easier upon him than it did others, though that was nothing he felt like bragging about. It never felt difficult to abstain from the ugliness of anger or jealousy.

That was before you. And this is after, this is post having your meeting. Wyll has had a relationship or two. Puppy crushes that fizzled off as soon as Wyll's responsibility began to overwhelming. Like, less than love, really. This time it is love, and love is incomparable to any sensation in the world. Not the cut of a blade against his skin, nor the warmth of a sunset. No mortal feeling could really measure to love.

In the aftermath of loving you, Wyll supposes, there is an ugliness within himself that he never really knew about. But maybe it's only normal. What else could there be after he's encountered the most beautiful thing the world has to offer, beyond even gods?

There are three things on Wyll's mind, lately. One, that he loves you more than he thought possible. Two, that he's relieved about the state of affairs. And three, he's very tired of feeling this way.

Not that he's tired of loving you. Things just aren't so busy anymore, and that means there's always people around. The people of the gate love you, and you're more hospitable than you let on. The camp is busy, rife with life every single evening and everyone is always so keen on meeting you.

You're busy, rightly - laughing and drinking. Though you're not much for talking, you do your duties as a host and tell stories when prompted. You seem to enjoy yourself in the well-earned reprieve and you've really do deserve very bit of that love and attention that's come your way.

So, Wyll knows feeling this way is ugly. The jealousy is ugly, and Wyll's not entirely lacking self-awareness about it. Though before he could chalk it up to other things, lately it's impossible. He knows that the Outlanders who come seeking your company have no idea you're engaged - and that they're simply men who desire you for the name you've earned.

A warrior, a hero, a myth - Wyll does not blame them for their curiosity.

But he feels pitiful to be so stirred up about it anyways.

He drinks tonight, though the carafe of wine is mostly full. The others speak amongst themselves. Astarion drifts by him, stands and sways in motion in the cool night air with a smug look on his face that Wyll is too dazed to catch.

Astarion speaks first. The sound is muffled first, impossible to make out in his own mind before a pale hand waves in front of his face.

"You know I'll have to thank your darling later for allowing me to see such a rare sight," Astarion drawls. He's sober, though there's wine in his hand all the same "The Blade of Frontiers, seething with jealousy. A marvel."

"I wouldn't call it seething," Wyll replies, still only half paying attention. His eyes are glued to you. He can't bring himself to look away.

Astarion laughs, a little pity in his voice , though Wyll can't really make out if it's sincere or not.

"But you'll admit you're jealous? My, Ravengard, you've changed." Astarion says. Wyll doesn't bother asking what he means, since it's true in any case "Forgive those poor Outlanders. It's hard enough watching them pine for one half the lovesick couple as is."

Wyll sighs.

"It's fine," Wyll says, though even he can hear how much he doesn't really mean it "It's not like they would know. I suppose many people wear decorative rings these days."

"Gods, this is funny. Just listen to you, I mean really. What a delight. I have half a mind to call the rest over just to witness it in person. Unfortunately I'm not so charitable," Astarion says back to him holding in a laugh "Whatever will you do, Ravengard? Maybe you could kick up a fuss, or pick a fight. People brawl at these things don't they? Oh what a sight that'd be indeed."

Wyll ignores him, but he does heed the advice. He would like to do something about it, though there won't be any brawl. He steels himself, passes an empty cup off to Astarion who makes a shrill laugh as Wyll starts walking himself over the fire.

When he arrives there, the conversation has come to more of a relaxed lull. You notice him even engrossed in conversation, flashing him a smile so beautiful he feels a little blinded.

He gives you one in return, disarmed. The outlander who's been trying to win your attention all night goes to address you again and Wyll is quick to interject.

"Ah, sorry - would you all mind if I borrowed them for a minute?"

You give Wyll a look of surprise, your eyes crystal clear. He feels guilty almost instantly, but continues anyway.

"Is something the matter?" You ask, your voice softened. You've been drinking, from the way your words melt together.

"Nothing serious, just something I wanted to talk to you about in private. That alright? Promise I'll return them before the night is over."

"As long as you promise," Says the very same one Wyll's been trying to tear you away from all evening. You laugh heartily before standing to your feet. You're beaming at him, brilliant - and Wyll goes back to his usual pleasant self as he gives his goodbyes.

He says something about promising before he whisks you off, faithfully ignoring the knowing looks of party.

And he takes you to a quiet corner of the camp, a short trail bridging between the main plot of land. There's some sturdy scenery, and rocks large enough to shield you from the outside and give you privacy.

He's cornering you a bit, admittedly - but you seem happy to see him. As soon as you're alone, you have your arms around his neck. There's a delightful air of excitement around you and Wyll finds himself filling with all the fondness in the world.

The faint sour-sweet of wine lingers off of your lips. Wyll looks at you closely, studies your expression.

"Sorry, sorry," You apologize, suddenly more comfortable. A side of yourself that you only show to him. How funny it makes him feel "I was happy to see you, is all."

"I can see that," Wyll replies, smug - just barely. You bat your lashes, dazed. It's unlike you. Wyll likes it. "I'm happy to see you too. Always."

"Is it something serious?"

Ah. He's caught isn't he? In a way, he's tremendously lucky you're not too sober. He's sure you'll tease him about it later.

"No, I suppose not. It's nothing at all, I just," He stumbles uncertainly at what he should say "Well, I wanted to speak with you."

"You could've joined us!"

Wyll gives you a sideways glance.

"Could I?" He says, before he catches himself. He adds the next words apologetically almost "That outlander you've been conversing all night seemed rather rapt with you. I doubt I could've interjected anywhere without fumbling."

You look like you're processing his words, but it's not as if Wyll is going to let you.

Wyll often says to you that you make him forget himself, and there are moments like these he find that to be more true than ever. It is unlike Wyll - strong and chivalrous, poise and charming - to bear so heavy a feeling in his heart that he has to express it physically.

Only you could make his silver tongue submit to such urgent, base instinct. Wyll kisses you in the most unromantic way he knows. It's not very gentlemanly. A kiss to claim, to sink, to swallow.

He kisses hard, and your lips are faint with the taste of wine. You make a noise of surprise before you melt into his arms. The warmth of his body makes him feel like he's burning to ash. His tongue touches yours, warm and hot nipping at your mouth.

When you pull away, Wyll decides it still isn't enough to curb the jealousy. He lets his teeth drift down to your neck. Sharpened canines that scrape against thin skin. Wyll sucks hard, enough to make all the capilliaries break.

And you sigh - a pretty, welcoming noise. Wyll is marking you. He leaves one after the other, in admittedly visible places. But he's not thinking about, not really.

Not until your voice breaks, the sweetest edge of desire to your words. He's not so debased to do anything to you while you're more than tipsy. He pulls away from you, blinks at you candidly - before the realization dawns on him in full.

By the gods, what's wrong with him? Embarrassment hits him afterwards, abject dread filling him as he peers at the dark marks along your neckline.

Did he really...? Really?

"Wyll," You say, strikingly sober and delighted all of a sudden "Are you...perhaps...jealous?"

He rubs his face on his hand, suddenly flush, turning his expression to one side. He can't deny it at this point can he.

"I wonder if my life will be easier once our wedding is announced in print," He offers sheepishly. You laugh loudly, absolutely elated as you press your forehead to his. He does the same, of course "The ring seems to be no more than decorative to everyone."

"Wyll Ravengard, I would've never guessed in a thousand years you'd drag me here because you were jealous."

"Please forget my uncouth actions at your earliest convenience my love," He says, groaning "I might die of embarrassment otherwise."

"It's nothing to be embarrassed about. I get jealous over silly things all the time. I tell you as much."

"When you do it it's endearing. I'm meant to be a gentleman, yet in front of you - I lose my wits like I'm a boy no older than seventeen. It's maddening."

"You forget yourself?" You tease, characteristically. He laughs.

"A bit more each day, it seems."

"A little jealousy is healthy, Ravengard. Though, I'm not sure how we're going to return to camp in this state." You say, giving him a suggestive look "Perhaps we have a bit more to talk about here instead, hm?"

"We should be doing such things in a bed. Or a tent." Wyll insists. You chuckle like you know he'll give into you.

"Wouldn't it be more effective if that Outlander you're so jealous of saw me with a post sex glow, along with the hickies."

Wyll feels his skin prick with heat.

"You drive a hard bargain." He comments, voice soft as a whisper. You laugh.

"Maybe you're just an easy sell."

Wyll laughs heartily at that.

"Any one would jump at the chance for something so priceless, Hero of the Gate."

You give Wyll another smile, lovely and genuine - there's nothing smug about it. You kiss him tender, sighing happily into his arms. He finds himself helpless to his own joy.

"Then lets kill time here and head back,"

"Yes," He says, jealousy tucked away for now "Let's do that,"