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evangelical04 · 3 days

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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.

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sataniquepanique · 3 days

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Disarm

Astarion x Tav (she/her used)

Summary: Tav and Astarion have been secretly seeing each other for a few weeks. One of them is adept at feelings, while the other is better at noticing traps.

A/N: Set around the time of Act 1, before Tav and Astarion become officially paired/committed.

“So Astarion,” Shadowheart chimed from the rear of the group, stepping over a large piece of stone as the party of four combed the seaside cliff for a way into the temple ruins, “do you have anyone back home? A lover perhaps?”

From the front of the pack, Tav could hear the sly smirk in Shadowheart’s voice. The sound of which made her wince, but the question itself caused a swirling chasm to form in the pit of her stomach. For a few weeks now, her and Astarion had been secretly carrying on a romance that neither were ready to make public. It’s not that she was embarrassed to be with him, but she worried what the others would think; would they not trust her anymore? Would they see her as weaker now? She thought the best of her new friends, but the nagging voice in the back of her mind was ever present, needling away at her subconscious. Astarion on the other hand, was not ready to even admit to himself that this was a romance. She knew it was due to his past trauma, that much she had been able to piece together. If you asked him (which she had a few nights ago), he’d say they were “exploring each other exclusively” and nothing more than that.

The painful truth of it all though, after the many nights of sneaking into each other’s tents, of stolen glances across campfires and the countless hidden touches during their travels—Tav was beginning to fall for the pale elf. She couldn’t tell him that yet, not when he was barely able to admit that they were together at all. So she kept the feelings leashed, allowing their clandestine romance to stoke the flames of longing being bottled up inside her heart.

Shadowheart's question, though innocent in nature, threatened to untether that leash. The thought of Astarion having a lover back in Baldur’s Gate was something that had never crossed her mind. He was beautiful in the most ethereal way, it would make sense that he had someone waiting for him. They were probably just as otherworldly. Tav wondered if they had been turned as well. As her thoughts began to spiral, the images of unfamiliar limbs tangled with his caused acid to rise in her throat. The acceleration of her heart almost drowned out Astarion’s answer.

“I’ve had many lovers in my time, darling,” he drawled, the words doing nothing to ease the ache in Tav’s heart, “but none that are worth going back to. Nor are they waiting for the likes of me.”

Tav inhaled for the first time in what seemed like minutes.

“And who knows,” Astarion added, the familiar playfulness creeping back into his tone, “maybe I’ll find a new one out here in the great wide nowhere.”

Tav dared a glance back to find his crimson eyes trained of her. He shot a wink that threatened to melt her right then and there. Biting back a smile, she took a few more crafty steps around some rubble. As she went to side-step a fallen piece of a column, Astarion yelled.

“NO!” He wrapped an arm around her middle, yanking backwards until she was pressed firmly against his chest. “Don’t. Move.” The rumble of his voice reverberated through her as he slunk around and uncovered a hidden explosive beside the column.

“This place is trapped. Be on alert,” he knelt down and began to quickly disarm the small bomb. Shadowheart and Gale split off and began to comb over the area for more, while Astarion returned to her side. A slender hand found its way to the small of her back.

“It would’ve been such a shame to have that lovely face destroyed, please try to be more careful next time darling,” he purred before placing a quick, yet incredibly gentle, kiss on her temple before joining the others.

Tav stood in place for a beat longer, pulling on the restraints of her heart that were beginning to snap.

#astarion x tav #astarion x reader #astarion fic #astarion fanfic #bg3 fanfiction #bg3 fic #bg3 fanfic #astarion blurb #astarion fanfiction #astarion fluff #astarion x female reader

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offthepages · 15 hours

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And so, the stars aligned pt. 4

Azriel x Archeron!Sister reader

Summary: After realizing you are his mate. Azriel races back downstairs to tell the rest of the Inner Circle. Spoiler alert- they already knew.

Warnings: Mentions of past trauma, a very small bit of violence. Let me know if theres anything I missed! a/n: This is unedited, so we aren't talking about it.

Ageless and MDNI

Part One, Part Two, Part Three

Masterlist Requests are open!!

───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────

As the door to your room closed, Azriel found himself frozen in place. His heart was still racing. He can feel his soul reaching out to yours, calling for you to return. The one thing that he always wanted, more than anything in the whole world, was just beyond that door. Someone to call his. Someone to be his. To be someone’s. To have a place to belong. But that door was still in the way. And he could tear it off the hinges for its audacity to stand between you and him. He could rip the door open, watching as you looked at him with those big doe eyes of yours. Stammering as you'd try to hide the shock and ask him what's wrong. Only for him to cross the room. Pull you in and kiss you like his very life depended on it. As if you were air, and he was gasping for it. Your love was the tide that pulled him under, all-consuming. But he didn't feel like he was drowning, no. Never. You were his light, his dark, his everything. His salvation. You were perfect. He felt the bond and knew there was someone at the other end of it. Someone who would feel it with time.

And that thought seemed to pull Azriel out of his less-than-sober state. Whatever the mating bond had done to his head had consumed him. Made him unable to think straight, unable to use any common sense- or any sense at all. He needed to step away, needed to stop smelling your scent. His shadows pull him back, gently urging him to give you space. Part of it makes him smile, that they were so eager to protect you. Part of him looks at the shadows and glares. "Traitors." He mumbles, before going down the stairs. His heart heavy as he takes every step. You were so unaware of his feelings. You always had been, you pushed away any feelings for him in favor of Elain. He watched you do it, heard you talking in hushed whispers to Feyre and Nesta about her wellbeing. You used to join them, but then you just…stopped. That's when Elain started flirting more. It broke his heart to see you back down so easily. Azriel knew you didn’t have any friends outside the Inner Circle…and he felt you watch from the windows. How he wanted to reach his hand out to you, share his time with you the way you shared it with your sister…

His footsteps for once are not muffled, nor does he want them to be. It didn't matter who saw him now, he'd let them know he was there to protect you. So, he allows himself to walk naturally, feeling the weight of everything finally. His footsteps heavier with each step. As Azriel enters the room he notices how the party has slowly stopped talking as he enters. His brothers looked the most concerned, slowly they both stood. Az notes the way their gaze moves about his body, checking for injury. Their shoulders are tense as well as if they’re on edge about something. What he didn’t know, so he raises an eyebrow at them. "Azriel?" Rhys's voice is soft, and gentle, as if he is trying to tame a beast.

"Is everything okay?" Cassian asks next. His voice doesn't share the same gentleness that Rhys's did. But for Cassian, that was gentle. Azriel looks at him, Cassian's hazel eyes shining with concern as he steps forward with Rhys.

Azriel doesn't know where the sudden concern is coming from. He tries his hardest to will his face into one of neutrality. "Yes? Everything is fine." He assures them before trying to sidestep them. Rhys and Cassian grab onto his arms to hold him in place. Azriel is just confused. He looks back at Rhys and Cassian. "What?" His voice laced with that very confusion.

"You’re shaking," Rhys answers. "Your hands are clenched. You look ready to snap." He steps back, Cassian doing the same. Azriel looks down, slowly unclenching his hands, realizing that his siphons are swirling with power as well. Looking back up the stairs to see his shadows swirling outside your door, keeping watch for him to ensure your safety. He looks back to Rhys blinking and suddenly- he gets it. He gets why Rhys fell into Mor's arms screaming and crying that Feyre was his mate—understanding all the decisions Rhys made just to ensure her safety. Seeing why Rhys believed in her under that mountain. Understanding why Cassian fought so hard to try and save Nesta from the Cauldron. He understood how the view of the world changed in just a matter of seconds, and…how it felt knowing that they both figured it out before their mates did. How did they do it? How did they deal with the crippling fear that they might reject them? How did keep smiling? How did they keep it from consuming him? Rhys looks back at Cassian, both of them taking another tentative step toward their brother.

"Az?" Cassian's smooth voice, calming voice- he talked to hurt soldiers like that. Azriel knew that voice. Was that what he was now? A soldier on the battlefield again? Did they see him as the scrawny little kid that showed up at camp? At that thought suddenly he broke.

The tears fall quickly, and blindly Azriel reaches out to grab Rhys's shoulder. He hadn't realized the pain he'd been keeping in his heart. He claws at his shirt; wishing that he didn't have one, to begin with. Rhys pulls him in, holding him tightly. “Woah…” Rhys whispers squeezing him tighter. “Woah, we’ve got you Az. You’re okay. We’ve got you…” Cassian rubs his back- and Azriel knows that they're exchanging glances behind his back. But he doesn't care. But what he doesn't expect to hear is Mor.

"Azriel?" Her voice is soft, full of concern. And he looks up from Rhys's shoulder. Looking at Mor with a tear-stained face, his eyes growing puffier by the second as more tears rolled down. She held her arms up for him. Azriel pushed Rhys away, all but running into Mor. Falling into her arms as he cries harder. Mor's embrace is warm, her skin is soft. She was always so warm, like a sunny spring day. She smelt like vanilla and whiskey. Threading her fingers through his hair, brushing out the curls gently as she started to rock him. "Shh, shh, we’ve got you. What happened? Can you tell us what's wrong?" Her voice is so gentle, soft, and caring in a way that only Mor could manage for him. Azriel realized she was being motherly. He reached for a comfort he'd barely known. A mother's embrace, or in Mor's case; a sister's embrace. Pulling away, Mor wipes his eyes. Nodding she looked up at him with her warm, chocolatey eyes.

"She's my mate." He croaks. It felt so good to get out. It felt good to tell someone, pride surging through him. To declare that you were his. He was yours. You were one. Mor's eyes widened, looking back at Amren, Feyre, and Nesta. "She's my mate, Mor. An-and she didn't feel it, now suddenly I feel like I can't breathe. I feel like I'm drowning. I keep reaching for her but she’s not there. I-I’m panicking about her even though I knew she was right upstairs. Everything is racing. I'm in a free fall, my wings won't open and the ground is getting closer. Everything feels so-"

Nesta grabs Azriel's chin. Tilting his head up to look at her, and he expected to see an icy glare. Instead, he's met with an intense understanding. "You are not dying. You are okay. And you need to take a deep breath." She illustrates what she wants him to do by taking a deep breath herself. Azriel finds himself mimicking her actions, suddenly realizing what he had done. He wasn’t supposed to be weak. His tears were pointless, his pain didn’t matter. He stands straighter, clearing his throat. Looking down at the ground to avoid everyone else's gazes. Nesta continues, "You fucking Illyrian's love too hard." She scoffs, her tone laced with a playful amusement. Though there's also so much truth behind it. "Y/n will accept you as her mate soon enough. But you have to give her the space and opportunity to do so. But, for the record. I am very happy that she is your mate. And you better be good to her or I’ll make you suffer.”

“Nesta!” Feyre hisses, elbowing her sister as she scowls at her. But Azriel laughs, it’s short and quiet but it’s a genuine laugh. Everyone looks at him before he pulls both of them into hugs. Feyre squeaks, but holds onto him. Nesta stiffens but pats his back.

“Thank you…” He whispers, pulling away. Azriel shakes his head and sits on the armchair with a sigh. “I…don’t know what came over me.”

Rhys sits on one of the arms, clapping his brother in the back. “Love does strange things to people.”

“Especially in this family.” Amren rolls her eyes as she scans Azriel for any more signs of an emotional outburst. “But, I also know you haven’t cried in a long, long, time Azriel.” She gives the shadowsinger a pointed look.

Cassian sighs and plops next to Azriel’s other side. Ruffling his hair. “You had us worried there for a second. I thought she insulted you or something.” Cassian laughs, Azriel can’t help but smile.

“No…nothing like that.” He whispers.

Nesta goes to Cassian’s side. Immediately sliding under his arm and putting a hand on his chest as she leans into her mate's warmth. “How did it happen?” Nesta asks, her voice full of curiosity. Remembering her love of romance novels- it didn’t shock Azriel that she wanted to hear the details.

Feyre also made her way closer, sitting on the couch closer to Rhys. Tucking her legs under her as she nods excitedly. “Yes! Tell us all the details, it was my personal favorite, hearing Rhys confess.” She looks over at him and winks.

Azriel chuckles and shakes his head. “She seemed…sad.” He starts slowly, closing his eyes to recount. Picturing the way your eyes slowly faded into a blank stare. “So after she announced she was going to bed. I followed her, but I thought she knew. I ended up scaring her, and I felt this…this nagging part of my brain light up. Telling me to apologize over and over again. As if it didn’t like making that look appear on her face. So, I apologized. But, then she just started…laughing. It felt…different than all the other times. I saw this golden glow around her as if the sun had decided to come back up and only shine on her. And she put her hand on my arm-“ He smiles faintly as his fingers gently trace over the spot yours had been. “It felt…like I was seeing the sun for the first time.” His voice is softer than ever. “And she joked about her intentions with me and her laugh. It was…it was like I couldn’t breathe. She leaned into me, laughing so hard she was snorting, touching me and- and just being…happy. Being her. That was the moment. Looking down at her I knew. I wanted to hear that laugh for the rest of my days. I wanted to be the reason for that laugh. I wanted to pick her up, spin her around, and kiss her like a fish needs water…” He smiles to himself as he pictures you again.

“I’ve loved her for so long. But, but that was the moment I knew. I was going to be there for her no matter what. Her laugh is something I’d fight wars over.”

Nesta is grinning, tears brimming her eyes. “I haven’t heard her laugh like that since she met you.” And Azriel’s heart swells with pride again.

───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────

The next morning as you enter for breakfast everyone’s eyes fall onto you. Blinking at them all you raise your hand to give a shy little wave. “Uh, good morning?”

“Good morning, did you sleep well?” Feyre smiles, Nyx perched on her lap as she offers him a slice of banana. You simply nod at her as you go to take your seat.

Nyx pushes away Feyre’s hand and exclaims, “Titi! Titi!” His little warms going upwards as he bounces in his mother’s lap. You, Nesta, and Elain all exchange glances. Looking at each other in a standoff of who can get to Nyx first. You move first, quickly running around the side of the table that Nesta wasn’t on. But Nesta, the Valkyrie, is quicker. Vaulting over the table- much to Rhys’s chagrin.

“Nesta!” He huffs looking at his plate of food with her handprint in it. Elain sprints around the other side, holding her arms out.

In a split second, darkness enveloped the room. Once it dissipates Azriel stands in the corner holding Nyx up. High above his head as the toddler giggles with glee.“Hello Nyx.” He grins with a triumphant smile. Your legs suddenly feel weak as you look at him. Only Nyx got him to smile like that. You look over at your sisters who are all as gobsmacked as you.

Nesta moves in first, on a mission to get her nephew. “You are not a Titi. So I will take him, please.” She gives an overly sweet smile as she holds her arms out.

Azriel considers for a second, but Nyx is happily playing with one of his siphons on his shoulders. Gently tapping it and watching the magic flow through it. “No, I think he’s content.”

Nesta goes to argue, but Elain steps forward. “Azriel…” She bats her pretty long lashes up at him. “Can I please see him?” She also holds out her hands as she smiles at her nephew.

Nyx again doesn’t respond to her voice. Now trying to munch on the Siphon. “It seems he’s still content.” Azriel shrugs, taking a slice of banana off of Feyre’s plate to give him instead.

It was your turn now and you were determined to win. “Azzy…” Your voice makes him pause. Good, you think. You hold out your arms and bat your eyes at him too. Trying to be as pretty as Elain was. “Let me see my favorite nephew?”

Nesta scoffs, “He’s your only nephew.” You shoot her a glare and look back up at the spymaster.

“Pretty please Az?” You pout, using the little sister privilege you honed. An impenetrable puppy dog face. And much to your delight- and your sister’s annoyance- Azriel crumbles. Earning snickers from around the table, all of which he glares at. Delicately handing Nyx to you and quickly moving as far- far away from you as he can.

Nyx looks up at you and grins. “Titi!” Your eyes shine with brightness and you giggle as you kiss his cheek.

"That's right, Nyx. Titi, the best Titi of all time." You coo, wrinkling your nose at Nesta and Elain. Nesta flips you off as she sits next to Cassian with a huff. And you chuckle as he wraps a wing around her, petting her hair as he offers her a bite of toast. Which she grumpily takes. You smile and sit with Nyx, settling him on your lap as Feyre passes you his plate.

Polite, and not-so-polite conversation takes place. Laughter fills the room and you for once, feel peaceful. Looking around this room filled with so much love. It was- almost too much to bear. But it all comes crashing down as Rhys gets handed a golden envelope. Golden waves were etched into it, along with golden flowers. It caused the conversations to die down as Rhys opened it. You follow his eyes, scanning the page. Watching his eyebrow raise in amusement as he passes the paper to Feyre. "What is it?" Mor asks looking or trying to look over Rhys's shoulder. Cassian stretches as well to try and see what is going on. Feyre holds it closer to her chest as she glares lightly at him. You hold back a snicker as Azriel's shadows loom behind Feyre- also trying to peak.

"It's an invitation," Feyre says simply, nodding as she looks it over again. Suddenly you watch Azriel stiffen.

"From. Who?" He grits out. Your eyebrows knit together in concern. But he doesn't look at you, his golden gaze still focused on Feyre. You could swear that from across the room you saw his eyes get greener. Feyre looks over at him and sighs heavily.

"Tarquin and Tamlin. They're hosting a ball to try and find a wife- or their mate." Feyre explains handing the letter over to Cassian. He greedily takes it, and Nesta pulls it down so she can read it too. Their eyes widened.

"It says they're requesting all unmated females." Cassian looks up at Azriel- almost like they were having a secret conversation. You snatch the letter from Nesta so you can scan it over.

Gasping and biting your lip, you look over at Rhys and Feyre. "Does that mean I can go?" You ask giddily, barely able to keep your excitement in.

Rhys spares a glance at Azriel and then looks back at you. "Would you want too?" His voice is tight. The room falls silent as it waits for your response. But you nod quickly.

"Yes!" You nod quickly, "It's like the fairytales we've read!" She looks over at Azriel, who refuses to look at you. His plate is the only thing that has his interest. But his indifference doesn't sway you. Letting your attention turn back to Rhys and Feyre, "It would be good! Like a show of good faith to send a member of the Night Court! Besides that, I wouldn't go for Tamlin. Not after what he did to you-" You look at Feyre with a gentle smile. Rhys takes hold of her hand, his thumb gently running over her knuckles. "But, I could find my mate there! Or hell I'd even settle for a boyfriend." You try to joke to clear the awkward tension. But all it did was cause Azriel to stand abruptly and walk out. Standing back up you go to follow him, but Nesta takes your hand, shaking her head. Sitting back down as you look at the letter.

"…It would be fun," Feyre says quietly. "We could bring the whole Inner Circle. It gives Amren a reason to see Varian. And we can show Nyx to everyone. You have the shields Hellion taught you, so you can protect us. It would be fun, we should go." She nods determinedly as she looks at her husband. Their eyes glaze over as they speak to one another but you look back at the door Azriel just walked out of. His shadows lingered around as if reporting what Rhys said. He sighed heavily.

"I'll respond with all that are attending." You squeal and rush over to hug him, kissing his cheek.

"You're the best Rhys! Thank you!" And warmth comes back to the room as your sisters smile at you. Immediately bringing up how they plan to doll you up.

───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────

Rhys's study door swings open as Azriel storms in. His siphons churning with power and the only thing that gives him pause is Feyre sitting on the desk in front of a chair. Rhys flanked her left, Cassian on her right. Amren and Mor are on Rhys's side. Nesta on Cassian's. Azriel glares at Rhys, "What is this."

Feyre points to the chair. "Sit." Azriel crosses his arms in a silent refusal. Feyre raises an eyebrow.

"Azriel we are not your enemy right now." She says gingerly. Trying a gentler approach, as if he would start crying again. His fists clench as he grinds his teeth.

"You are." He says simply. "You're letting her go."

"Azriel you know damn well that we give choices in this court." Rhys snaps, Feyre putting a hand on his chest. "I don't know why you suddenly think you can control her-"

"I know I can't control her." Azriel snaps at Rhysand. Their eyes meet and Azriel grits out, "But she is a mated female. And it is a slap in my face that you consider my mating bond so unimportant that what? Get another fucking Alliance? Like how you were gonna marry Nesta off to Eris."

"Azriel." Cassian snaps, standing to his full height. "You don't get to bring up my mate just because you're pissy." Nesta pulls him back. Her blue/grey eyes meet his as she steps forward. Cassian watched her like a hawk. But Nesta didn't balk.

"I was going to marry Eris because I didn't feel worthy of the love that Cassian was giving me. And the reason Rhysand wants us to go is so that y/n can be happy. Isn't that something you want for her Azriel? You know how we grew up, but did you know that y/n used to lay in our bed and ask me to tell her stories? She'd ask me about balls, what princes were like. She's dreamed of this. Finding her true love over there. So-" Nesta jabs Azriel's chest. "Suck it up."

Azriel's jaw tightened. And then, Rhysand spoke. "You won't be going." The room fell silent.

"What."

"Lucien got the same letter, he's requested that we not bring Elain. Elain is okay with that, they want to take this as an opportunity to get to know each other. You will be here to keep them safe and chaperone for Elain's comfort. You are silent, you are friends with Elain and it will give you time to sort out whatever is going on with your attitude." Rhysand tries to keep his voice even, and clear, end all be all. Azriel waited for the hypocrisy of the moment to hit him, but when it didn't.

"No," Azriel says simply. "No make someone else do it. I am not going to sit here while you cart her around. Pick someone else."

"That's not happening. She hasn't felt the bond yet Azriel. And trust me, I know how hard it is. But I let Feyre go-"

"She's not Feyre. She can't fight. She isn't your mate, she's mine and I have her best interest-"

"You have a possessive interest." Rhys snaps. "She is allowed to make choices."

Azriel looks at Rhysand with disdain. His nose wrinkles in anger and his shadows swirl around him. Siphons flicker as his temper grows. "I didn't say she wasn't." He tries to speak calmly. He was better than this. Azriel didn't need to lose his temper, he didn't even know where this was coming from. No doubt the mating bond, everything involving you made every inch of his skin feel too tight. Like he needed your touch to cool the boiling beneath it. He had normally kept his cool in the face of adversity, he didn't question Rhysand. But when you were in the fold? He couldn't stop it. The images of you coming home with your arms linked with Tarquin or- oh god- Tamlin? The images of how thin Feyre had been when she first arrived flashed in his mind. And then- you. You being that thin, in a gaudy and ugly wedding dress. Big, puffy sleeves and begging him down the bond to save you. "But I want to go with her."

Rhys looks at everyone and sighs. "Azriel. We all decided-"

"You decided? Decided that I wasn't allowed near her?" He growls.

"You all decided what to do with me." Nesta chimes in. Azriel turns to her with a fire in his eyes.

"We decided that because we didn't want to watch you drink yourself into your immortal grave. We wanted you to heal and the only way to get you to do anything, Nesta Archeron, is through spite. Telling you that you have to do something or you must. But even still we didn't separate you from Cassian." Azriel fumed. He had never been like this with anyone. So raw, so angry. Showing his baseline of emotions. He couldn't stop it, everything felt like it was about to boil over. So he looks back to Feyre. "Please. I am begging you, to let me go."

Feyre looks over at Rhys. Rhysand shakes his head. "No. Azriel it will look bad for you to claim her-"

It was a blur. Everything happened so fast. Azriel moved before he knew what he was doing. Everything in him screamed out, at the people whom he called family locking him away once again from something he wanted so badly. And he saw his Father and stepmother. Overseeing his visits with his Mother. Not letting him stay with her no matter how hard he begged. Keeping his wings bound to his back despite the need to fly. All he felt was that red-hot anger. His blood felt like it was scalding under the surface. His skin was simmering and he wasn't sure if he was actually smoking or if it was his shadows that curled around his forearms. His voice felt like there was a vice grip around it. Why?! Why was no one listening to him! Why didn't they understand? He didn't want to control you or tell you that you couldn't do something. He just wanted to be there. All he wanted to do was make sure that you were happy. He didn't want to play babysitter again to another set of mates. He just wanted to watch you shine.

He comes back into his own body to realize that he'd punched Rhysand. His black eye starting to form. Two strong hands were on his elbows as he was forced to sit. Cassian. They were Cassian's hands. Azriel calmed and eased into the chair. Rhys puts a hand to face blinking in shock. Looking at Azriel with one good eye. The room was silent. They could have heard a pin drop miles away. Azriel tried to open his mouth to speak but nothing came out. He hangs his head in shame, waiting for Rhysand to tell him to leave.

"Cauldron boil me." Rhysand laughs and kneels in front of Azriel. "You really think that?" He whispers looking at his brother with sincerity. "That all you are is a babysitter?" Azriel blinks and looks at him with wide eyes. "You said it all. Screamed it right into my head. Made me feel it." He gives him a gentle smile. "Az, that's not what I was trying to say." Rhys sighs heavily and shakes his head. "I didn't think you could handle it. That rage? I understand it. I felt it every day Under the Mountain, and every day when Feyre was with Tamlin. I don't want you to think I don't trust you. But I know it's hard to contain. Case in point-" He points to the black eye.

Azriel swallows thickly, still unable to voice his apology. ' I'm sorry Rhysand. I understand. I don't like it, feeling so angry. The bond just- amplified all of my emotions.' Rhys nods along to what Azriel speaks into his mind.

"It gets easier. For now," He sighs and shakes his head. "It might just be the better idea to bring you along. Being near her should help."

Azriel nods. Still looking down at the ground, and then he feels gentle arms wind around him. Nesta. "Thank you for being my friend." She whispers. Another set of arms wind around him. Feyre.

"Thank you for being our eyes and ears."

Another set of arms. Mor. "Thank you for always protecting me."

More arms. Cassian. "We are your family. And we never want you to feel like you don't matter."

Two more. Rhys. "I am the biggest hypocrite."

"Really." Amren's voice cuts through. But then there is a little scuffle as someone, most likely Mor, pulls Amren into the group hug. He hears her sigh. "…Thank you for punching Rhysand." The group laughs warmly. Maybe everything was going to be alright.

───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────

Your arms squeeze Elain tightly. "I'm very excited for you!" You say warmly. "I think you'll be a happier woman when we come back." You wink at her. Elain scuffs and rolls her eyes, but her cheeks redden at the idea.

"Well, I hope you come back with so many stories that I would be jealous." She teases you as she pulls you back and makes you sit on a pink stool. Looking at your reflection in the mirror, she brushes your hair out and helps you put it half up, half down. Something pretty and yet elegant. Finishing she looks at you in the mirror. "You look beautiful."

You grin, shrugging. "Thanks, Elain." Not knowing how to respond. "Let us know how it's going?" You hold up a pinky to her, Elain rolls her eyes and links your pinkies.

"I will write the most boring and mundane letters just to shock you with the truth when you get back." She teases. You feigned hurt before you heard Rhysand call for you. You and your sister share a giddy smile and you rush down the stairs.

The whole Inner Circle stands there with various bags, the 'ball' would be taking place over a week. With dances each night, not all of which were deemed mandatory- only the first and last night were. But you were going to be staying in a newly rebuilt Spring Court. Feyre had been nervous at first, but Lucien helped ease her nerves. Assuring her that they wouldn't be near the Manor and that Tamlin had completely rebuilt. It was almost unrecognizable. But none of that mattered, you were going to be going to every ball you could, dancing the nights away, sleeping in, wearing all the beautiful dresses you could. You were ready to take this ball by storm.

Lucien looked up at Elain, bowing his head. Your sister halted, and you gave her a subtle push toward him. "You look well," Elain whispers.

"As do you." He smiles.

Leaving the two to talk. You look over at Azriel, you haven't talked to Azriel since that morning. And he wasn't at breakfast the next day. So you took this opportunity to cross the room to his side. He looks down at you, giving a small smile in greeting. You smile back, "Azriel." You speak softly, suddenly feeling bashful. You hadn't known why he suddenly stopped coming around you, but you knew that you wanted to remedy it. You wanted him closer to you, you wanted your friend back. "Are you excited?"

Azriel looks at you with a raised eyebrow, his eyes have a glint of amusement in them. "You do realize that you're asking the biggest introvert here if he's excited to go to a ball."

You pout, glaring at him. "…you can lie to me."

That gets a chuckle out of Azriel as he extends a hand to you. "Then I am thrilled to go spend this week somewhere I'm not comfortable." You elbow him as you take his hand.

"Is there anything I can do to help you feel more comfortable?" You ask, tilting your head to the side as you step outside. Azriel lets his wings expand, quickly scooping you up into his arms. The others would Winnow to the house, but Cassian, Rhys, and Azriel wanted to fly. And so, Amren uncomfortably held Nyx. The toddler playing with her necklace as Mor got ready to Winnow. Rhysand scooped up Feyre, Cassian held Nesta, and… Azriel held you. Quickly shooting up into the air, a sound between a gasp and a squeal sounded from you. Holding onto Azriel tighter, you feel him hold you tighter before he leans into your ears.

"Just stay close by in case I need you." He answers. You blink up at him before smiling and nodding.

"I'll be right by your side." You promise. ───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───── a/n: I personally hc that the mating bond can be really intense and amplify every emotion- even if it has nothing to do with your mate. So Azriel being so on edge, is just because that man needs a fucking hug. Anyways!! I hope y'all enjoyed!!

tag list: @sidthedollface2 @cat-or-kitten @impossibelle @brunette-barbie1220 @scatteredstardustt @sammanna @cherry-cin @tele86 @judig92 @lana08 @stained-glass-eyes0708 @oucereeng @persephonesalvatore @fightmedraco @juniperberriesaries @whatdoyxumean @harrystyke21 @tenshis-cake @5onedirection5 @bubybubsters @its-sam-allgood @natashachelsea @brieflyclassymortal l @thecraziestcrayon @cherryinsalemverse @sourapplex @starswholistenanddreamsanswered @waggel36 @bunnyred-blog1 @kookie4life @mybestfriendmademe @dream-alittlebiggerdarling @mp-littlebit @caticorn61

#acotar #azriel acotar #azriel shadowsinger #azriel spymaster #azriel x reader #pro nesta #nesta archeron #nesta x cassian #feyre x rhysand #feyre archeron #elain archeron #elain x lucien

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scoonsalicious · 2 days

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Unwanted: Chapter 25, Unprotected - Pt. 4

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Avenger!Fem!Reader

Summary: When your FWB relationship with your best friend Bucky Barnes turns into something more, you couldn’t be happier. That is, however, until a new Avenger sets her sights on your super soldier and he inadvertently breaks your heart. You take on a mission you might not be prepared for to put some distance between the two of you and open yourself up to past traumas. Too bad the only one who can help you heal is the one person you can no longer trust.

Warnings: (For this part only; see Story Masterlist for general Warnings) Language, medical procedures, Pocket getting called out on her shit, deep discussions, mentions of drug use and anonymous sex.

Word Count: 2.7k

Previously On...: You woke up in the hospital to some quite... surprising news.

A/N: LET THE HEALING SORT OF BEGIN! I AM READY FOR IT.

NOTE! The tag list is a fickle bitch, so I'm not really going to be dealing with it anymore. If you want to be notified when new story parts drop, please follow @scoonsaliciousupdates

Banner By: The absolutely amazing @mrsbuckybarnes1917!

Thank you to all those who have been reading; if you like what you've read, likes, comments, and reblogs give me life, and I truly appreciate them, and you!

Taglist: (Sadly, tag list is closed; Tumblr will not let me add anyone new. If you want to be notified when I update, please Follow me for Notifications!) @jmeelee @cazellen @mrsbuckybarnes1917 @blackhawkfanatic @buckybarnessimpp @hayjat @capswife @itsteambarnes @marygoddessofmischief @sebastians-love @learisa @lethallyprotected @rabbitrabbit12321 @buckybarnesandmarvel @fanfictiongirl77 @calwitch @fantasyfootballchampion @selella @jackiehollanderr @wintercrows @sashaisready @missvelvetsstuff @angelbabyyy99 @keylimebeag @maybefoxysouls @vicmc624 @j23r23 @wintercrows @crist1216 @cjand10 @pattiemac1@les-sel @dottirose @winterslove1917 @harperkenobi @ivet4 @casey1-2007 @mrsevans90 @steeph-aniie @bean-bean2000 @beanbagbitch @peachiestevie @wintrsoldrluvr @shadowzena43

Tumblr will not let me directly tag the following: @marcswife21 @erelierraceala @jupiter-107 @doublejeon @hiqhkey @unaxv @brookeleclerc

A few hours later, you were discharged with antibiotics to stave off any potential infection and over-the counter iron tablets to help replenish all the blood you’d lost. The car ride back to the safehouse was awkward in its heavy silence, the only words spoken between you and Bucky were when you asked to stop at the local pharmacy to buy out their stock of hydrogen peroxide. You’d need to tackle those blood stains in your bedroom before they had time to fully set.

As you walked in the door to the apartment, Bucky on your heels, you took in the space as he would be seeing it for the very first time– it was an absolute mess, with clothes strewn about, fast food wrappers and empty liquor bottles littering every available surface. You watched his eyes as they raked over the mess, pausing to linger on the empty condom wrappers your last Bad Decision had left on the coffee table, next to the remnants of the coke you two had done.

“What the fuck is this?” he asked. “Did someone break in and trash the place while you were in the hospital?”

You grabbed a discarded bra from the back of an armchair, where Bad Decision #... something, had tossed it in his hurry to get at you. “Wasn’t exactly expecting company,” you grumbled defensively.

Bucky laughed nervously. “What, so you’ve just been having random sex and getting drunk everyday?” The look he gave you was desperate, as though begging you to contradict him, to tell him it was all some sort of joke you were playing on him, but you just stood there in silence, not meeting his eyes.

“Jesus Christ, Pocket, this isn’t you,” Bucky exhaled. “None of this is who you are. What have you been doing to yourself?”

“No,” you scoffed, “this is who you made me, Barnes. So, if you have a problem with what I’ve become, you’ve only got yourself to blame.” You opened your arms wide to encompass the entire apartment, and by extension, the evidence of your downward spiral. “Welcome to the consequences of your own actions!”

“Fuck.” Bucky ran a tired hand down his face after a moment of stunned silence. “I did do this to you, didn’t I? God, I’m so sorry, Pocket. If I could take it back, I would. I know that’s just more empty words, and you’re probably sick of hearing them, but it’s the truth. Hurting you is the biggest regret of my life.”

“Yet, you keep doing it,” you said, sighing heavily. You flopped down on the couch, exhausted and sore. The nurse had warned you there’d be residual cramping, and had insisted that regular ibuprofen would take care of it, but you’d already had six-hundred milligrams and were still aching. You wondered briefly if you had any oxy left from the club, but decided that getting high in front of Bucky was probably not the smartest move you could make right now, so you opted to deal.

Bucky walked over and made a move like he was about to sit down next to you, but something caught his eye. Bending over, he ran a finger through the white powder residue on the coffee table, bringing it to his tongue to taste.

“Shit,” he said, making a face. “Pocket, is this cocaine?!”

“What are you, McGruff the Crime Dog?” you asked sarcastically, before realizing the reference was probably completely wasted on him. He just continued to stare at you expectantly. “So what if it is?” You asked with a shrug.

“Since when do you do coke?” Bucky asked incredulously. You really didn’t like the way he was looking at you at the moment. Like he had opened the fridge, looking for a carton of milk, but instead found a giraffe in a three-piece suit.

“Since I ran out of oxy,” you said nonchalantly. “And molly.”

A change came over Bucky’s features, and you watched them go hard, judging. “You’ve been doing all this– the drinking, the drugs, sleeping around with god knows who, while you’ve been pregnant?! What? It wasn’t enough to kill our baby, you had to try to kill yourself in the process? Do you know how absolutely fucking stupid you’re being?!” He was shouting at you now, the anger he’d been holding at bay since the hospital coming out in full force.

You stood back up, taking in a shuddering breath. You hadn’t expected him to blow up at you so unexpectedly. “I didn’t know,” you said softly, voice trembling. “I didn’t know I was pregnant.”

“Would it have made a fucking difference?” he roared. “You already admitted you would have aborted it if you had known! Can you honestly say you wouldn’t have risked the baby’s health– your health– even if you did know?”

You didn’t have an answer to that. “I don’t know,” you whispered.

“Pocket,” the anger seemed to leave Bucky almost as quickly as it had come, “if you hadn’t gotten medical attention right when you did, you could have died. You could have bled out, gone into septic shock. This miscarriage could have fucking killed you. Do you know what that would have done to me? To Sam and Steve? Nat, Wanda, Pepper? What it would have done to fucking Tony?” You were hit with a sudden wave of guilt. In your spiral, you hadn’t considered for a moment what your actions would have meant to the people who loved you. You only cared about forgetting your own pain.

“When you were getting dressed to come home, I asked the nurse what could have caused the miscarriage. One of the things she mentioned was heavy drug use, but I didn’t pay it any attention. I thought ‘no, not my Pocket, she’s too smart to do something so incredibly dumb; has to be something else.’ But here you are, throwing your entire life away. And for what? Some cheap thrills? And now, you’ve gone and lost a baby and you don’t even care!”

It was too much. His words were getting to be too much, and you were dangerously close to losing it. “Of course I fucking care!” you sobbed, the damn breaking and setting free a flood of tears you’d been pretending weren’t just waiting to spill. “I had our baby– ours, yours and mine– and I fucking lost it because I needed to forget how much pain I was in! How much you fucking made me hurt! It’s been almost two months and I still want to die when I think about you with her. I want to fucking die.”

Bucky’s arms were around you as you collapsed into him, gasping for air between choking sobs. “I close my eyes, and it’s all I can see,” you wailed. “I’ve fucked so many men trying to forget about you, to feel anything besides despair, but all they do is remind me of what I’m missing, what I lost. All the drinking, the drugs, all the sex– I just wanted to forget, to have a few minutes where I could pretend my life wasn’t ruined, that the best thing I ever had hadn’t been stolen away from me!”

Bucky held you tighter, rubbing soothing patterns into your back in an attempt to calm you. “And I just keep losing,” you cried. “I lost you, I lost our baby, I lost Chloe.”

If Bucky wondered who Chloe was, he knew it wasn’t the right time to ask. “Hey,” he said, tilting your chin up so you were looking at him and wiping the tears from your cheeks, “you haven’t lost me. I’m still right here. I know I fucked up. I don’t expect you to forgive me; I don’t deserve it, but I’m always going to be here, no matter what. And, okay, you lost this baby. But that doesn’t mean you won’t have a chance for another.”

“I don’t want someone else’s baby,” you told him, wiping at the tears that just wouldn’t stop coming, and choosing to completely ignore the fact that you’d lost him in every way that actually mattered. “This was the only chance for our baby, and I destroyed it! It’s the universe’s way of telling me I’m not supposed to be a mother.”

“Why the fuck would you think that?” Bucky asked accusingly. “What makes you think you wouldn’t be an amazing mom?”

You let out a hard laugh through your tears. “What the fuck do I know about being a mother?” you asked him bitterly. “It’s not like I had a shining example of one growing up. All I know how to do is push people away. To make them not love me.” That was the sick truth, your exhausted brain and broken heart were telling you in the moment: your biological father, your mother, Bucky. All of them had turned from you, had pulled their love at the first opportunity. A logical part of your brain would have known this wasn’t the case, and that you had so many more people who did love you, but you weren’t running on logic right now.

“Stop,” Bucky begged, voice cracking. “That’s not true. Sweetheart, that’s not true. You are so damn easy to love, I fell for you immediately. I know you don’t believe it, but I never stopped loving you. I’m never gonna stop loving you.”

“Then why, Bucky?” you cried, clinging to him, desperate for an answer that made sense. “Why did you do this to me?”

Bucky pulled you down onto the couch with him, cradling you in his lap. He gently rocked you back and forth. “Because I’m broken, sweets. I’m broken, and I’m stupid, and I let my anger get the best of me. I was so convinced that you were too good for me, that I didn’t deserve you, that I sabotaged us to prove myself right. But none of that is worth seeing you like this. None of that was worth putting you through all the hurt I did. And I’m sorry. I’m so fucking sorry. Nothing I say can undo it. Nothing I do is gonna change what happened, fix the damage I did to you. All I can do is show you that it’s never gonna happen again, whether or not you ever end up forgivin’ me. There’s never gonna be another girl for me, and if you never want me again, that’s okay; I’ll understand. I deserve it and I’ll learn to live with it, but it’s not gonna change how I feel. You’ll be the last girl I’ll ever make love to, even if you decide you never wanna give me another chance.”

You weren’t sure what to say to that. Simply because you weren’t sure if you’d ever be able to give him another chance. But that reminded you– there was something you wanted to address with him.

“I’m sorry,” you told him softly.

Bucky narrowed his eyes at you with a tilt of his head. “What are you sorry about, doll? I’m the one who should be spending the rest of their life apologizin’ to you.”

You turned away from him. “I’m sorry about what Hydra did to you,” you said. When he didn’t say anything, you went on: “I, uh, asked Sam,” you continued. “About what you’d told me with the sparring and how you get… excited.” You felt him still beneath you, but didn’t want to lose your nerve. “I’m sorry that I doubted that they put you through that kind of abuse, and I’m so sorry it happened to you. And… I’m– I’m sorry I didn’t make you feel like I was a safe person you could share that part of your past with.”

Bucky let out an agonizingly slow breath. “Sweets,” he began, “it was never about feeling like you weren’t a safe place for me to be open about it. Not once.”

You took in a shuddering breath, hating that you were making this moment, in a way, about you. “But… you told Steve, and Sam and– and… her. But you didn’t tell me.” You risked a glance at him, afraid he was going to be angry at you, but all you saw was patience in his eyes. “I must have said or done something that made you feel like you couldn’t share it with me, and whatever that was, I’m sorry.”

Bucky shook his head sadly and rubbed his human hand up and down your back. “No, baby.” He exhaled. “It was never like that. I didn’t tell you, because I was ashamed.”

You raised your eyes and gave him a questioning look.

“I could tell Sam, and Steve, and even Carthage, because I didn’t give a shit if they thought I was… fucked up… sexually. It didn’t matter what they thought about it, because, well, I wasn’t trying to impress them, to make them want me, want to be with me. But you?” He brought his vibranium hand up to cup your face, turning it so you were looking at him. “I didn’t want you lookin’ at me and thinkin’ that I was broken, that I didn’t… didn’t work right in the way I wanted you the most. I’d never be able to stand it. I was just so ashamed and embarrassed; and I couldn’t stand the thought of you lookin’ at me the way I looked at myself.”

“Barnes,” you offered with a small, small smile, “I have never, not once, even considered you were broken, sexually. Not before I found out, and certainly not after. In fact, I’ve spent the last two months desperately trying to make myself forget just how not fucked up you are in that department.”

Bucky cleared his throat. “Just, uh, outta curiosity, sweets, how many attempts at forgetting are we talking about here?”

You scrunched up your mouth. “You seriously want to know how many guys I’ve fucked since we broke up, Barnes?”

Bucky shrugged his shoulders in a completely failed attempt at seeming nonchalant. “Like I said, just curious. What are we talking… like, two? Three?”

You snorted. Multiply that by ten, you thought. “You really don’t want to know, Barnes. Trust me.”

“Jesus Christ,” he moaned. “More than three?!”

You shrugged awkwardly. “It’s really not any of your business, Bucky.”

He ran a hand through his hair. “Fuck,” he said. “Yeah, yeah, I know it’s not. I just can’t stand the fucking thought of someone else putting their hands on you,” he said through clenched teeth.

You raised a brow and gave him a sarcastic look. “Hypocrite much?” you asked, though there was no bite behind your words.

Bucky lowered his head, not meeting your gaze. “Givin’ me a taste of my own medicine, huh, doll? Well, can’t say it’s not fucking bitter, or that I don’t deserve it.”

“I didn’t do it with the purpose of hurting you,” you told him, feeling your tears start to build again. “I did it to get over you. To forget you.”

He brushed a tear from your lashes. “Did it work, doll?” he asked, voice low. “Did you forget? Are you over it?”

You hadn’t. Of course you fucking hadn’t. But you didn’t want him knowing that. Not fully; it was enough though, knowing that he’d felt even a fraction of the jealousy you’d felt. “Hard to say,” you told him, instead. “Maybe the twenty-ninth time’ll be the charm.”

Bucky spluttered and gasped for breath. “TWENTY-NINTH TIME?!? Are you telling me you’ve fucked twenty-eight pieces of shit since you’ve been down here?!” Almost as soon as his frustration burst from him itself, it had died out. “Not my business,” he said, though you could tell he was struggling.

You’d had enough tormenting him for the night, so you snuggled further into his chest. “Not a single one of them made me forget for a second,” you told him, tilting your head up to look into his eyes. Bucky chuffed and leaned down to kiss the top of your head, and for the first time in months, you felt a hint of the safety you used to feel with him. It was small, but it was there, a tiny ember in a fire you’d feared had long died out. With a rattling sigh, you rested your head against his chest as he continued to rock you, and soon, you were lulled asleep to the sound of his steady, familiar, beloved heartbeat.

<- Previous Part / Next Chapter ->

#bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes x y/n #bucky x you #bucky x reader #bucky fanfic #bucky barnes #bucky barnes fanfic #bucky x female reader #bucky barnes fic #bucky barnes fanfiction #james bucky buchanan barnes #james buchanan barnes #mcu bucky barnes #james barnes

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modawg · 9 hours

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percy: im passing the phone to someone who literally gave me grey hair after getting herself kidnapped at the ripe age of 13 making me go get her

annabeth:…im passing the phone to someone who got kidnapped and went missing for 7 months at the RIPE AGE of 16 and now has to wear an air tag on his camp necklace so he doesn’t get lost

percy:……im passing the phone to someone with abandonment issues

annabeth:…….im passing the phone to someone who uses humor to deal with the extreme trauma he lived through as a young tween

percy:………..im passing the phone to someone who’s literal mom is the goddess of wisdom yet she can’t read or spell

annabeth: im passing the phone to someone with daddy issues

percy: im passing the phone with daddy AND mommy issues

annabeth: IM PASSING THE PHONE TO SOMEONE-

grover: guys can i please have my phone back please i just want to ft my girlfriend please

i just love that their all friends and that that is what is first and foremost no matter that percy and annabeth are dating they were besties first so their silly and they’re annoying and i love them as a trio

#pjo #hoo #percy jackson #percy jackon and the olympians #heros of olympus #hoo fandom #pjo fandom #hoo text post #pjo text post #hoo/pjo #annabeth and percy #percabeth #annabeth chase and percy jackson #annabeth chase #grover underwood #annabeth percy and grover #golden trio

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fuck-i-love-october · 3 days

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Oh so you kin James Potter?

What's it like being a perpetual people pleaser? What's it like remembering everything about everyone else but sometimes wishing they remembered anything at all about you? Or how you pour too much of your own money or time into other people. How you wish you didn't. How you hate change but won't admit it and even though you seem like a leader you're more likely to be a follower. How does it feel to tell yourself you haven't had it bad enough to consider it trauma? How does it feel, to wish you had someone who reciprocated even an ounce of the affection you give to other people. How does it feel to fall in love with people more quickly than you can register? How does it feel to be an ambivert? To have some days where you can't shut up and others where you hate yourself for it. And tell me how it feels to have no greater desire than some sort of group or conformity to reside in? How does it feel to not know who you are when you aren't around other people? How does it feel to be acutely self-aware and more than logical but to still let your emotions get the best of you? How does it feel, to feel unwanted? How does it feel to blame yourself for things entirely out of your control? How does it feel to lay awake at night thinking about your parents and the stray cat in the alley and the man you saw looking awfully down in some passing moment on some sidewalk today? How does it feel to have used every prayer you ever thought you had on the burdens others carried? How does it feel to have been the little kid adults confided their issues in from an early age? How does it feel to give the best advice anyone could ask for but have no sense of direction in your own life? How does it feel to strike a match on yourself to keep others warm? You only seem to set things on fire that way . How does it feel to have an earth-sized hole in your chest? How does it feel to think with your heart not your head?

How does it feel to feel too much?

How does it feel to own things until they are just near broken because you never learned how to let go? How does it feel to be watering dead flowers? Why can't you let things die? You can't love things that don't want to be loved. You can't care enough for the whole word.

#marauders #james potter #peter pettigrew #remus lupin #sirius black #regulus black #james fleamont potter #marauders era #jegulus

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i-heart-hxh · 19 hours

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One thing that I deeply love about HxH as a whole is how seriously it takes the trauma of its characters.

Rather than things that happened in the characters' pasts being relegated to just simple flashbacks, their pasts legitimately feel like they shaped who they are as people in the present of the series, in both obvious and subtle ways.

I love how the significant events of their past and how they grew up are shown continuing to affect them even many years later, and not just in a straightforward "Oh, that's sad," or "This one personality trait/goal and nothing else came from that," kind of way. They make decisions based on what they've been through, the ways they understand the world are different as a result of it, what they prioritize and strive for often comes out of it, even their nen choices are often related to it.

It gives the characters a strong sense of being human, and I think this theme of trauma and how it affects people is something Togashi explores with unusual sensitivity, care, and weight. HxH doesn't lose sight of how much a deep loss or a life of abuse or neglect or abandonment shapes someone, and at the same time the narrative offers so much hope for the way connections with others provide second chances, meaning, and eventually healing.

I could go into examples, but honestly the series is full of them, almost wherever you look. All of the main four especially exemplify this. It's one of the elements that makes HxH so special to me, why it resonates with me so deeply. Plenty of stories explore this kind of theme, and a lot of them do it well, but HxH does it in an especially convincing and beautiful way, in my opinion. Because the way the characters are affected is so genuine and multifaceted, it's easy to empathize with them and find meaning in their struggles.

#hxh #hunter x hunter #meta #my posts #just something I think about a lot #it's hard to express this because a lot of stories do explore these kinds of themes #but the way hxh does it is just different and really effective and meaningful imho #it feels incredibly well-rounded and integrated #incidentally this is why I increasingly think kurapika will likely survive somehow

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gyuswhore · 1 day

Text

Tugs and Strands

anniversary event [closed]

boo seungkwan x reader

prompt(s): absentmindedly playing with their hair at all times

word count: >1k

[a/n]: wrote this so fast i loved this prompt with kwan so much 🥹

masterlist

The first time Seungkwan hugged you, he buried his fingers in your hair.

A couple months of fist bumps as greetings and linked arms under the pretense of a budding friendship, he hadn’t actually hugged you until after you practically trauma dumped on some park bench outside a convenience store. It was 3 AM, no one to witness your exchange aside from the teenager at the till with his headphones in, playing some shooting game that required aggressive taps and shakes of his phone screen.

It was comforting, the usually scary empty alleyways and the faint smell of city smog all becoming part of the moment.

Tear-stained cheeks, yet a light heart, you rest your cheek against his shoulder in an attempt to physically relax, registering the hand on your back that holds you tight, and the other that’s wound itself in your hair, pulling your head closer to him.

You had thought it was simply a ‘hugging habit’ of his, having seen him guide the heads of your other friends who would hug him on whatever occasion. The particular preferences don’t truly set in until after you start dating.

Innocent enough movie night, popcorn and chips ‘n dip long consumed and digested, all that’s left is Kwan’s flat coke that sits dejected on the coffee table.

Hair falling free, head on your boyfriend’s shoulders, attention (mostly) on the screen in front of you. It isn’t until you’re nearing the climax that you fully realize that there’s something very gently shifting your hair.

To your right, Seungkwan’s fingers have gotten hold of a small chunk of your hair, twirling the strands between his digits, curling them around his finger, and then letting them fall. He picks them back up to go back to playing with them like an infinitely more relaxing fidget toy.

A quick glance at him and you realize he’s doing it subconsciously, his full attention on the scene that unfolds on the screen, eyes glazed yet concentrated. He feels your poignant stare and head shifting on his shoulder, turning to inquire.

“What?” he asks.

You shake your head, smiling a little as you rest your head back where it belongs, eyes training back to the film.

“Do you want me to change the movie?” he asks.

“Eyes on the screen, mister,” you huff humorously, taking a hand to his head to force it back forward.

You notice him doing it more frequently after that, reaching a stage of attention where you feel weirdly empty without feeling in the roots of your hair. Perhaps it was strange, but it had become a crutch of sorts, a more physical stimulant for instant calm.

The pinnacle, however, was when his hands would find your hair as you’d fall asleep, the familiar fingers playing with your strands having you snoring before you could even register falling asleep.

It’s been a long day, your spine screaming for some scalding hot water and the plush of your comforter. It’s earlier in the night when you retire, planting a kiss on Seungkwan’s awaiting lips as you bid him an earlier than usual goodnight. He promises to join in a couple hours.

“Do you want me to tuck you in?” he mumbles against your lips.

“Mm mm,” you hum against his own. “I’m a big girl.”

You both have smiles on your faces as you part.

The next thing you register as you open your heavy, bleary eyes is the familiar massage of fingers against your scalp and hair and a quiet hum of conversation beside you.

When you come to, you realize it can’t be too much later as Seungkwan is on the phone with someone, ready for bed, back against the headboard. His fingers have found your head beside him, casting his usual comforting movements.

“Yeah I saw the pictures, Bookkeu’s getting old, his fur looks wild.” He’s snickering, insults laced with affection for his dog that stays with his parents. He continues to very gently pat your resting hair.

“Bad groomer? Are you sure your daughter hasn’t been slacking?”

He speaks to his mother in a low voice, nothing that’s ever woken you before, but you don’t mind that you get to register the low buzz of his conversation paired with the free massage. Helps that he smells like heaven, picking up on his post shower dampness as you nuzzle your face into his waist, registering the oh so familiar scent of his stupidly overpriced body wash.

He’s off the phone now, leaning in closer to whisper to you, “Hi baby, did I wake you?”

You grunt out an incomprehensible noise that’s neither here nor there, too drunk on his scent and the way he’s petting you like a dog. You’re enjoying it too much, but so is he.

Seungkwan only exhales in a laugh, clattering around his bedside table. You don’t try to decide what he’s doing, because you’re half gone already, waiting for the final push into dreamland.

When you wake up, the room is a little brighter from the light that seeps in, Seungkwan’s arms rest beneath your head as a better pillow, and the hand that’s attached rests tangled in your hair.

Right where it’s decided it belongs.

#🎁gyuswhoreturns1!#svthub #seungkwan #seungkwan fluff #svt #svt fluff #seventeen fluff #seungkwan imagines #seungkwan scenarios #seungkwan x reader #seventeen scenarios #seventeen x reader #seventeen imagines

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thisblogisaboutabook · 23 hours

Text

Wicked Felina (The Girl That I Love)

Part 2 - “Peter”

Azriel x Reader/Rhysand’s Sister - Angst

Visions of a past life plague Felina as she recovers from burnout. Rhys seeks answers. Azriel comforts his mate as past-trauma comes crashing down on her. A former lover tracks her down.

Part 1 - El Paso - Series Masterlist

warnings: past trauma, panic attack, references to sex, elements involving death, blood drinking, violence

Forgive me, Peter. My lost fearless leader.

“Quit fidgeting, Y/N.” Mother whispers as she runs a brush through my tangled hair.

Father is in Windhaven this week and I’ve been free to roam the skies as I please, whenever mother turns a blind eye. The arts district is vibrant with life and so often my family carries me out kicking and screaming. Well, aside from my brother who hides his amusement behind a mask of irreverence. He knows I love the rainbow.

Of course, Rhys has been gone on courtly business for weeks and I am dying to see him. My brother, the one person who truly understands me. Well, as much as one’s older brother can understand their sister.

I miss him.

“Sorry, mother.” I sigh. “I’m just excited to see my brother tomorrow on our travels.”

A pause of the brush strokes gliding through my hair shoots worry through me. I grit my teeth, bracing for her next words. “What is it?” I inquire, turning to see Mother’s lovely face downcast before her warm gaze meets mine. “He’s been held up and cannot travel with us tomorrow.”

“Oh.” I sigh. Hurt running through me. It’s not his fault, he’s busy and a far more benevolent leader than our father is a ruler, though he plays the game quite well.

An hour later as I lay in bed my heart races, my thoughts spiraling into the places I do my best to forget. The males of this court always let me down. Oh the perils of being the second born heir, younger than those surrounding me, female, and never taken seriously.

The goddess of timing, once found us beguiling.

A note appears at my bedside.

“Night’s truest bloom, there is no starlight without you. Won’t you cast thy gaze upon my room? Xx, Peter”

I smile at the flirtatious note, biting my lip. “You know I can’t but think of me as you bask in sunlight while mother and I trudge through the Illyrian forests tomorrow. Rhys bailed.”

“I don’t like that you’re traveling alone. Shall I come escort you?”

I blush at the thought of walking arm-in-arm with him. Gods, I’m so totally enamored. How did it end up like this?

“You High Fae, so territorial.” I write back.

“You are partly High Fae yourself, my lady. In fact, I’m pretty sure you offered to kill the last female who got too close for your liking.”

My stomach turns. I would. The female’s a lech.

“Semantics. I’ll see you when I get back. Dream filthy dreams of me.” I press a kiss to the letter and send it off.

“Only the filthiest, my sweet Felina.”

She said she was trying. Peter, was she lying? My ribs get the feeling she did.

—————-

Felina

“Y/N?” A cautious voice stirs me from my dream. I wake to find myself in a very large bed, surrounded by luxurious blankets that likely cost twenty-fold the standard linens I’d become accustomed to - the ornate room around me more spacious than anywhere I could recall resting my head.

My body is sore, lethargic. I stretch my arms and - ouch - stiff as well.

“Take it, easy, okay? Your body was under a lot of stress.” I blink my bleary eyes to see Azriel’s concerned gaze fixed upon me.

My body feels weighed down from exhaustion but my heart, it feels heaviest of all - a feeling I’ve continued to carry since Azriel found me at the Inn. Shouldn’t I be happy to have a piece of my life in place? I have a mate - and from what I can recall, a damn good one as well.

I open my mouth to speak but his eyes go distant, a look I’m familiar with but trying to place.

An urgent knock intrudes upon the silence, a look of irritation crossing Azriel’s features before he mutters an apology to me. “He couldn’t wait for me to speak with you apparently.”

My gut clenches, dread overtaking it as the door opens. In walks a male with a face so familiar that my heart’s pace rushes. My brother, Rhys.

“Y/N.” He chokes out, love and longing written all over his beautiful face. “You’re home.”

The name. Y/N. So familiar and so foreign. I remember it now but Felina brings me comfort. “Felina, please call me Felina.” Pain flickers across his features before giving a subtle nod. “Okay, Felina.”

His eyes sparkle as tears form in his eyes. “How? How are you here? Where have you been?”

I reach a hand to touch his face, the scruff beneath itching my palm, his hand instantly finding it and leaning in. It feels so warm and familiar and yet, I yank my hand away like lightning. “I don’t know.” My breaths quicken. Flashes of centuries of lies and manipulation rush into my head and it’s all too much. I can’t process this. I can’t relive it.

My hands find my torso, wrapping myself tightly, I can’t catch my breath. The hot blur of tears fill my eyes as I screw them shut. “I’m sorry- I- I“ can’t finish the sentence as I heave, trying my best to even out my breathing and failing miserably. The inky feel of power seeps from my skin and I can’t process the male voices speaking beside me. My name; a cold, icy voice giving a command; a broken voice of night giving in to whatever was commanded as heavy footsteps pace away, and then -

Darkness. Warmth. A heartbeat in my ear. A brush of lips against my hair. Azriel.

I stay there, sobbing as the emotions crash into me like the surf to rocky shores. The pain doesn’t alleviate for what feels like an hour, the rhythm of my mate’s chest finally bringing me back to the present.

When my eyes open, Azriel is draped over me, wings cocooning protectively around my body, his heartbeat the steady constant in my ear. “I’ve got you.” He whispers. I give into his warmth and drift off again.

————————

Said you were gonna grow up, then you were gonna come find me.

Lovers in a field. Brushed hands at balls. Green eyes meeting violet. Shared smiles.

Words from the mouths of babes

Tears cried into a broad shoulder. Whispers of “It’s not fair”, drunken chants of “fuck the cauldron!”, late nights and long dances beside reflections of starlight.

Promises oceans deep

Young lovers questioning eternity, the forces of fate. Letters signed with pen names.

But never to keep

————————-

“Brother, you need to sleep.” Rhysand stressed into Azriel’s mind.

The stubborn bastard had refused to leave Y/N’s side for the days she’d been unconscious. A huge part of Rhys beamed at that. Who was he to question the bonds forged by fate? Was Azriel being his sister’s mate ideal? In a sense, no. As an older brother, he’d always felt protective over her. But Y/N had always gravitated to Azriel, even as a child his shadows could calm her when she was fussy, his patient demeanor had always been a soothing balm to her inquisitive mind. He’d listen carefully as she pondered the great mysteries of life out loud long after the rest of the family had tuned her out.

“I’m fine.” Azriel’s conscious growled in return.

He sure as hell didn’t sound it.

“Let me send darkness to soothe her, just long enough for you to eat and get some sun.”

A pause and then the mirthful reply of “Is it an order?”

Maintaining composure the High Lord replied, “Is it necessary for me to do so?”

Ten minutes later, Azriel appeared at the bottom of the stairs, the light of the foyer emphasizing his hallowed eyes and drained skin. “You look like hell.”

“Thanks.” Azriel muttered.

Rhys knew he sounded like a prick but it was true. “How about you go sun your wings in the garden?”

The energy of the room shifted as Azriel’s eyes rolled, caught between humor and bitterness as he reminded his brother for the fifth time that week of the current circumstances. “Despite your good intentions, you seem to forget that prolonged exposure to the sun is exactly what I do not need.”

“Shit! I am never going to get used to this.” Rhys placed a hand on Azriel’s shoulder. “Fine, sit. Amren brought a fresh blood supply this morning. She says it’s goat from Sevenda’s but she was in a mood, I wouldn’t be surprised if it was the blood of whatever poor souls had the nerve to cross her path on the way here.”

Azriel wanted to grin at the attempted humor but didn’t have it in him. What a strange turn of the tables, Amren no longer the bloodthirsty one.

The males sat in silence, Azriel nursing the goblet of blood Nuala had kindly brought in to him. Soft footsteps padded into the space, a familiar floral scent wafting through the room, as Elain entered.

“Oh.” the middle Archeron sister gasped. “I’m sorry to interrupt.” She gave a wary smile, sad eyes falling on Azriel before flicking back to Rhys.

“Not interrupting, Elain. What do you have there?” Rhys glanced to a piece of paper in her clutched in her grasp. “Oh, it’s nothing,” she spoke too quickly, her pulse fluttering. “Writing secret love letters, Elain?”

She shook her head, glancing to Azriel once again. It grated Rhys to know the recent history, or whatever it was, that transpired between Azriel and Elain. With his sister being thrown into the mix now, he was battling that instinct to protect her at all costs.

Elain blushed a soft shade of pink, nearly matching that of her pastel dress. One hand grasping the delicate wrist of the opposite. “I’ve been writing to Lucien.”

“Ah, and how is dear Little Lucien?” Rhys raised an eyebrow, lip quirking upward.

“He’s fine.” Her words were clipped. “I have to go now. Cerridwen is waiting for me in the gardens. We’re planting a new variant of night-blooming jasmine.” She gave a nod and scurried from the room.

Azriel’s lips remained in a firm line as Rhys nursed the whiskey he’d poured himself.

Months ago, her words would have hurt, sliced like a dagger at Azriel’s own lack of a bond. Now, well, he still felt jaded toward Rhys for the solstice that he essentially banned him from pursuing a relationship with Elain. But- it worked for the best. There was nothing in this world he wanted more than his own mate, his Y/N, his Felina - as she insisted she be called.

Guilt tugged at him, he should be up with her, not downstairs. What if she needed him? What if she woke with a night terror and he wasn’t there?

“She’s fine, brother.” Rhys broke him from his thoughts. “Your shadows will alert you the moment she wakes, and I have darkness soothing her.”

Shaking his head, Azriel rested his face in his own palms as if he’d rub his face hard enough and all concerns would fade away.

Finally, he looked up. “How do you do it, Rhys? How do you stay away when there are so many questions that need answered?”

Sitting his glass down onto a coaster, Rhys leaned forward resting his elbows on his knees. “I know she is in good hands. You brought her back to me. And I know, a mate can help her right now far more than an older brother.”

The thought warmed the icy chill that had settled into Azriel’s bones, he reveled in the moment before replying. “There’s so much we don’t know- So much we need to know.”

“You’re the spymaster, Az, and she’s your mate. I know you need answers. And gods, don’t think for a moment that I don’t want answers too. It takes every ounce of will not to just dive in to see what I can find, but…. It’s her story to tell. And, when I send my darkness to soother her, her shields, there’s something about them that my own darkness recoils from.”

Digesting the words, Azriel took another swig from his goblet. “I need to go back upstairs.”

Rhys only gave a knowing nod.

—————————

Love’s never lost when perspective is earned

Dreams shifted from young love and light to pain and darkness plague my sleep state with visions of bloodshed on pristine snow. Brutal hands of power-hungry males. Sharpened blades. A mother’s scream. Shredded wings falling to the earth.

Lost to the Lost Boys chapter of your life

And then, warm hands and a familiar face. Love and terror in emerald eyes. Strong arms carrying a broken body. Cries of “Please just hold on for me.”

A promise of “Stay right here. I’m getting help.” The back of a lupine creature running toward the distance.

Forgive me, Peter, please know that I tried to hold on.

The effort of holding on is growing too hard. My head slumps as blood trickles from my wingless back. An unheard plea of “Peter!” falls from frozen lips.

Then there is darkness. Void. Impending death.

A cold, pale hand chills my skin. A cruel, beautiful face promises eternity. Unfamiliar arms drag me away and I do not fight.

But the woman who sits by the window has turned out the light.

———————————

Azriel

Azriel had finally settled in beside a sleeping Felina, resisting the urge to take her in his arms and never let go.

His shadows alerted him to the breach in the wards first, shock running through him at the intrusion. Apparating to the entryway, he found Rhys at the front door, baring his teeth at the intruder, waves of night rolling off of him in a way that would send most running.

Icy rage shot through Azriel’s veins at the audacity of the male to show up at their door. The urge first, ask questions later pulling him toward the intruder. His lunged was interrupted by a sharp inhale behind him behind, diverting him from his war path.

His mate had walked down the stairs, her first time out of bed since arriving to the River House. Her slim form trembled, those otherworldly eyes swirling with emotions he couldn’t comprehend.

“Peter.” She whispered through rapid breaths. Azriel ran to her, bracing an arm around her back to steady her uneven footing as she climbed down the grand staircase.

The blonde male fell to his knees, his tears falling ricocheting off the marble floors.

Azriel has no time to ponder the incorrect name she’d used, focusing on her steps, observing the sight before him. He’d only ever seen the male solemn or filled with rage. Never this.

And Felina, there was no fear or hate in her eyes, no wariness, as she took in the male. No, the only emotion he could now read was one his heart wasn’t prepared to face.

So, Azriel watched as his mate’s eyes lined with tears, her slow steps increasing and filling with purpose as she reached the entryway, stepping out of his brace and flinging herself into the arms of the High Lord of the Spring Court.

—————————

Tamlin

Are you still a mind reader? A natural scene stealer?

He didn’t believe it when Lucien wrote to him sending word that Elain mentioned that Y/N was in Velaris. That she was alive. There was no way and getting his hopes up would kill him.

How many nights had he spent plagued by the memories of the day it all came crashing down? The ruination of a beautiful friendship, of a love forged from two kindred souls damned by fate, and the role he played in it.

They were both so jaded at an early age, he and Y/N. And for whatever reason he couldn’t fathom, the princess of night found the youngest heir of spring to be worthy of her presence. She was everything and he was just, a lost male. Everyone wanted her time but she wanted his, and so began the affair of sneaking off at parties, stolen kisses under starry nights, long rolls in soft grasses, love notes written with pen names.

He was Peter, the lost boy forced to grow up too soon - who wanted nothing more than a life of music and poetry but doomed to strengthen ties to Hybern, to be married off like seed stock to a mate that he hated, Hybern’s wicked general.

And Felina, feline, curious and sleek as a cat. She’d been heartbroken by a one-sided mating bond, by a mate who only saw her as the child she once was, a mate too busy pining over her cousin to notice the gem he had right in front of him.

They’d found comfort and peace with eachother, two young adults who could be whomever they wished in their stolen moments.

They were careful to avoid being caught. So careful, until the day he snuck off to watch as she traveled through the Illyrian forests with her mother, that instinct to protect those he cared for surfacing at such an early age. He thought he’d lost her forever. He’d tried so desperately to save her. By the time he returned with a healer, she had disappeared. To this day, Felina had been his greatest loss.

And moments ago when her cry called into his mind, “Peter!”. There was nothing that could hold him back from her, no wards too strong, no distance too far to winnow. There was only he and his need to see her for himself.

And now, here she was in his arms. Repeating over and over how sorry she was for not holding on, for not having faith that he’d return.

All he could choke out was, “Felina.”

We both did the best we could do, underneath the same moon in different galaxies.

—————————————

Tags:

General ACOTAR: @lilah-asteria

Series tag list: @saltedcoffeescotch @julesofvolterra @glittervame @nocasdatsgay

SPOILER FOR THIS STORY (in case you need to know who is end game) : click here