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#tell me more of glittering Gold
ramblebrambleamble · 9 months
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Why does Elynas haunt his bones?
Why does Durin's heart still beat?
What is the knowledge (we must atone)
That sends gods to their knees?
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thaliagrayce · 1 year
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y'know what we don't talk about enough? Hazel died. We talk about how she grew up in the 30's and 40's and we talk about how out of place she feels in the modern world, but! She died! She was dead! She has spent more time dead than alive, and not by a close margin!
How does that effect a person??? We got some of it in the flashbacks, but once those caught up with her present timeline and she shared them, they just kind of... disappeared. And she was a regular girl with some weird past experiences. That's one way of doing it, sure!
I think it would have been a lot cooler if she was just a touch creepier. If she felt a little bit Wrong. Yeah, in general she's more approachable than her brother, she's more sociable and less closed off, but. If you actually spend any time with her, it can be difficult to tell which child of the underworld is actually more unsettling.
Hazel is bright of personality and has a dazzling smile, but sometimes she'll just... shut down. She'll go completely blank for like half an hour and nobody knows what to do with it. Sometimes she forgets she's alive. Sometimes she'll spout the grimmest shit you've ever heard like it's nothing, she won't even notice it's weird until the room goes quiet. She spent decades in Asphodel, which is designed to make people forget about themselves and wander around for eternity, only she didn't have the luxury of forgetting! Wild! After she comes back to life, sometimes she forgets that she's allowed to Do Stuff now. She can spend so long sitting and staring at nothing. Sometimes she'll start crying on cloudless days because it hits her again that she can actually feel the warmth of the sun on her skin and she can hear birdsong. Every little mundane experience is a blessing and she will make you remember that in the most foreboding way possible.
#hazel levesque#hoo#mj talks#like. i am fascinated with characters who die and come back different and it JUST hit me that there was so much potential for hazel there#the idea of how death lingers was not explored At All in heroes of olympus#of course there's the obvious part in that there were what. 3 named character deaths total? 4 if you count leo#which i very much don't because it didn't stick! there were no consequences to this gigantic war!#the first series did well with that because we had plenty of named characters who died#even though some of them were introduced only to die like six chapters later. we still knew them on some level#and more importantly percy knew them. he felt their loss in a way that made consequences seem real#heroes of olympus didn't have any of that. hazel could have been a great way to talk about it a little more!#also i just love characters who have obviously gone through death. that has to change a person! tell me how it changed you!#anyway. i think i'll make hazel creepier from now on in my writing#she deserves it <3#nico is creepy in an obvious way. he's got power over death and that clings to him like a second skin. he can't hide it#and he's learned that he doesn't have to. there is power in being othered#hazel seems lovely when you first meet her! none of the death power all of the glitter and gold and riches#and then she'll look you dead in the eye and say 'you really don't know how lucky you are to be able to breathe until you can't anymore'#and move on like it's nothing! what!#underworld siblings
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yuwuta · 6 months
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AFTERGLOW. — JJK BOYS + JEALOUSY
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❝tell me that you’re still mine, tell me that we’ll be just fine, even when i've lost my mind  
featuring. gojo, inumaki, nanami, okkotsu
content. a character study in jealousy, no content warnings, no smut in this version, fem reader
word count. 2.8k
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SATORU GOJO You’re attempting to finish getting ready for the evening and Satoru has taken his favorite activity: filing through every crevice of your room like he’d been hired as a private investigator. Even though he knows that you know that he’s nothing more than a nosy idiot, Satoru claims that it’s an important and intimate routine that he should know the ins and outs of your living space just as well as you know his—“You know exactly where I keep my boxers, and I don’t even think I’ve seen the inside of your closet—oh, hey, this is cute,” he grins, sticking out his impossibly long arm to shake a thin, lacy bodysuit on a hanger, “How come you’ve never shown me this, huh? Maybe you should wear this instead, it seems easier to take—ouch.”
He groans at the impact of your hairbrush against his shoulder, then swiftly proceeds to pout and whine about how mean you are to him when you return to ignoring him in favor of applying the final touches to your makeup. Your closet seems to be of little interest to him after that, as Satoru crosses the room to hover around you at your vanity instead. He leans in too closely, as if watching you apply bronzer was a novel sight to him. You flip your brush quickly, barely tapping at his nose and laughing at his scrunched reaction.
“Your reflexes aren’t so sharp today,” you tease. You’re prepared for a witty response, and when you glance, there’s a familiar mischief shimmering in your boyfriend’s eyes; but, then his gaze ventures slightly past you, and all signs of playfulness drain from his face. Instead of getting revenge, or annoying you further, Satoru reaches over your body and into a shallow jewelry dish to pick up the bracelet he’d spotted. It’s a dainty little thing, thin gold with a small heart in the middle glittering with shiny stones, that he threads along his fingers with scrutiny before standing up straight to dangle it in front his face for further inspection, “This is new to me.”
Perhaps you’d spoken too soon, because only Satoru would spot that one piece of jewelry amongst the others swimming the tray. His eyes flutter between the bracelet and you, and you can practically hear the gears turning in his head, and the accusation he won’t say outloud—did you buy yourself heart-shaped jewelry, or is there something else going on here?
You sigh and keep your expression and voice neutral, your attention seemingly still focused on the finishing touches of your makeup, “It’s new to you because I haven’t worn it in years,” you tell him, “My ex gave it to me.”
There’s a beat of silence, and you occupy yourself with your mascara, before Satoru speaks, “That makes sense, it doesn’t look all that promising. What is it—barely gold plated?” he taunts, sweeping away his air of concern with one of mockery, standing up straight to twirl the bracelet around his index finger, “Figures your ex boy toy had no taste for the finer things in life. You’re worth more than this, my darling.”
You shake your head with light laughter, patting in the remnants of your setting spray before standing. Satoru continues on, rambling about the poor construction of your commercially produced bracelet—holds it between his index finger and thumb like it’ll poison him if he exposes it to too much of his skin, and you can’t help but smile as you reach for the lapel of his blazer to pull him down for a kiss. He has no words of objection to this, pulling you in by the waist for another and another and another, before you finally pull away, “Come, let’s go. I don’t feel like getting lectured by Utahime for your tardiness again.”
You’re too preoccupied for the rest of the evening to notice the item missing from your jewelry dish. What you do notice, two afternoons later, shortly after Satoru has left to pick up Nanami from the airport, is a blue velvet box with your name written in pretty, gold cursive along the top—and inside, a gold tennis bracelet, glittering with diamonds, with a necklace to match. You have no doubt they’re legitimate, if not for the way the sparkle, then by the text that rings through on your phone after you question Satoru:
from: satoruwu 🫧🩵 — only the best for my baby <33
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TOGE INUMAKI
Toge knows that the price of coffee has gotten way out of hand, but what bothers him more is the decreasing pace of said coffee getting made and the increase of crazy, caffeine addicted people who feel the need to be loud around him while he’s waiting for his drinks. You, however, seem to take pleasure in his suffering, as you always thank him and coo, saying he looks cute despite his grumbly demeanor, “You always look like you fought a war for two cups of coffee, Toge.” 
He rolls his eyes as he steps into your apartment, not minding the sound of your giggling behind him. He sets the drinks on your island, and pulls out a stool to sit on. You round the marble, reaching him just as he’s pulled down his mask for a thank you kiss to his cheek. He wants to make you suffer for longer, but when you lean against him, he can’t help but to return the hug and kiss your forehead—you’re welcome, always.
Still, he pokes at your head, waits until you dig your head out of his shoulder with curious eyes, before he points to the Keurig sitting in the corner of one the wall-mounted counters, and moves his hands to sign, “Why keep that if you spend all my money on coffee?”
“Rude. I offer to pay all the time,” you chide, poking at his collar bone and standing straight. You make your way back to the opposite side of the counter, and reach to a drawer to fetch a straw, before shrugging, “My ex left it here when we broke up. I keep it for the aesthetic—I’m not even sure if it works.”
A myriad of thoughts runs through Toge’s mind—most importantly: had your ex left other things here, and how quickly could he get rid of them?
“Besides,” you break his murderous train of thought, “None of the pods make good espresso. Couldn’t even make my hot girl latte if it worked.”
“Your ‘hot girl latte’ is iced,” Toge signs.
Under normal circumstances, a comment like that would earn him a flick to the forehead, but you can tell that behind the sarcasm, Toge is actually upset. So, in lieu of teasing him, you walk back over to him; settling yourself behind his stool to give him a back hug. You lean your cheek against his shoulder and press a small kiss there, “You’re cute.” 
Toge huffs, shaking his shoulders for dramatic effect. You laugh, leaning up to give him another kiss on the cheek. “You’re cute and you have nothing to worry about. It’s an old coffee machine.” 
He hums, taking another sip of his coffee before turning, barely bumping the top of your forehead, so you can see his raised eyebrow. You lean up to press a kiss to his lips, “You’re cute, and you have nothing to worry about, and I love you.” 
He finally smiles again, content, and grants you another kiss to your forehead. With his mood back to normal, the two of you finish your coffee and carry on with your scheduled study session as normal (normal being Toge leaving you alone for all of twenty-seven minutes, before he starts taking videos of you with various outrages Snapchat filters on).
However, the following day when you return from your classes, there’s four new items on your kitchen counter: a silver espresso machine, a reusable Starbucks cup (already filled with your usual drink), a neatly folded apron decorated with cartoon Shiba Inus, and a small card with Toge’s bubbly handwriting on it: “Don’t worry, I’ll still pay for you $6 pink drinks, but if you wanted to thank me by making coffee in just the apron, then I wouldn’t complain ;)”
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KENTO NANAMI Kento is a rational man; he favors using logic to carry out decisive actions, rather than letting his emotions get the best of him. So, the rational part of him knows that it’s not a big deal that the lunch bag and bento-style tupperware you bring to work was a gift from your ex-girlfriend; but there’s a small, ugly, green part of him overrun with jealousy and another bitter-tasting feeling he can’t quite name.
Because it’s not that important. It makes sense that you keep using them—the lunch bag is nice, leather, sleek, and insulated, and the tupperware is sturdy and functional. The whole system is sustainable, practical. It was a good present, one that objectively serves a good purpose whether or not it was given by an ex or not.
Maybe that’s what he hates so much. That this person still has room in your life, even though you haven’t spoken to them since you’ve met him. Kento doesn’t like that reminder—that there are people out there who might be a good fit for you, a better one than him. Those ugly feelings aside, there’s a sour taste in his mouth when he packs your lunch now; knowing that the food he cooked for the two of you—the meal you’re both going to indulge in—sits in a container gifted to you by an ex-lover.
Irrational to the point of being unfocused, he doesn’t realize how close the glass is to the edge of the counter, and when he turns to scoop more rice, he accidentally knocks it over with his elbow. It breaks into tiny pieces on the ground, the small portion of rice and chicken spilling onto the ground. The sound draws you out of your bedroom, mascara wand in hand and robe still on to call for him, “Kento? Everything okay?”
“I… it was an accident,” he explains, setting the spoon down in favor of reaching for a napkin, dropping to his knee with a light sigh, “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to break it.”
Your laughter surprises him, prompts him to look up at you with broken glass shards pooled in his palm, “You don’t have to worry so much! It happens, we have a million more.”
There’s something about the way you don’t seem to acknowledge it being special to you in any way—Kento’s not even sure if you recognize what broke—that reassures him. Because it really was an accident, but Kento doesn’t mind that he managed to break this particular plate. 
When he shoos you back to getting dressed, he finishes picking up the broken glass shards. There’s a certain lightness to his actions now, petty as it may be, he’s happy. Spends extra time writing a note for you to see when you unpack your food before he retires to the bathroom to start getting ready himself. 
Maybe he could do something about that lunchbox next. You don’t seem to mind.
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YUUTA OKKOTSU Thursdays are Yuuta’s favorite day of the week because on Thursdays, you two meet up at your spot, which is really just a set of twin benches in the west quad, but it’s your place and Yuuta loves it. You will have reserved a study room in your favorite library, and Yuuta will buy snacks for your study session before you both head to the library in an attempt to finish up your work for the week in order to keep your Friday evenings free.
Yuuta usually gets to the bench before you, a combination of the engineering building being a little bit closer, and his legs being a lot longer. He doesn’t mind waiting for you, as it’s usually his first time seeing you in two days (your Tuesdays are too packed for anything other than a shared coffee break between lectures, and Wednesdays are his hell days), and spotting you through the crowd of dissipating students always brings a smile to his face.
You look cute today, an oversized sweater enveloping your frame that Yuuta can imagine you cozying into and nearly dozing off in your dreaded microbiology lecture. He laughs to himself at the mental image, just as you stop in front of him to ponder, “Something funny?”
Yuuta shakes his head, leaning down to kiss your forehead with a proper greeting. “Nothing,” he reassures you, reaching around to pull your backpack off of your shoulders, and slings it over one of his, “You look cute. Did you mean to buy a sweater big enough to double as a blanket?”
“The oversized look is in,” you scrunch your nose and roll your eyes, letting Yuuta take your hand in his despite his teasing, “I don’t even think I bought this, honestly. It might be Todo’s? Or Toge’s—it might even be Maki’s at this point.”
Yuuta freezes. He feels the world stop and a million different emotions surge through him at once, but the most prevalent of them all is something ugly and green. He could deal with Toge, though he doubts he’s the culprit. While you two shared a penchant for oversized clothing, Toge was more often than not the thief, rather than the lender, and he’s pretty good at keeping his collection of stolen goods under lock and key. Maki was out of the question, too, because you shared a class with Nobara earlier today, and there’s no way you’d have made it out of there wearing her girlfriend’s sweater.
So it probably was Todo’s. And Yuuta had said you looked cute. Though he wishes the ground would open up and swallow him whole, his moment of self-pity is waning, and overcast by something steely, something too-hot bubbling in his chest. The question of why you have it goes over his head—he’s not concerned with that, nor will he fault you for it—the matter at hand is that you’re wearing it. And, sure, Yuuta thought you looked good in it before, but he could name sixteen other things you’d look better in at this very moment.
You’ve gone on to ramble about something that happened earlier, but Yuuta’s not listening. He drops your hand first, then both of your backpacks on the bench behind him, before tapping at your wrists. You don’t seem to understand him, cocking your head to the side with a pensive expression, but Yuuta only taps at your wrists again with a simple command, “Up.”
It doesn’t seem like you understand, but you follow anyway, and Yuuta is pulling the sweater up and off of your body before you can question him. He tosses it onto the bench with little care, then removes his white jacket and places it atop your backpacks. “What are—” you don’t have time to finish before he’s pulled his own hoodie off his body, and slid it over your head.
Yuuta smooths out the fabric under his palms with a satisfied grin on his face. Much better.
“Aw, Yuuta!” you bring a hand to tug at the strings of the hood, a wicked smile replacing your dazed blinking, “I didn’t know you were so possessive.”
You tease him until he’s red up to his ears, embarrassed and borderline bashful, a complete 180 from the looming jealousy that took over him moments before as he shimmies on his jacket again and picks up your back backs. He huffs, as you tease him, circling an arm around his as you begin to walk to the student center. He doesn’t know if he agrees with your declarations of him being a possessive boyfriend, but he does know that he’s your boyfriend, and your boyfriend only.
“So, you think I look cute, still?” you question, picking up a pack of gummy worms. Yuuta lets out a breath of laughter, pressing another kiss to your forehead, “Even cuter than before.”
(Two days later, Todo can be found screaming wildly to Itadori when he comes across a familiar hoodie strewn across a random bench on campus—who considers visiting the Student Health Clinic to make sure an eardrum wasn’t ruptured—because, “Bro, what the hell? I swear I fucking lost this thing!”)
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mellowwillowy · 5 months
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𝐓𝐖𝐒𝐓 𝐒𝐞𝐥𝐟-𝐀𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐞 𝐂𝐨𝐦𝐩𝐢𝐥𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐬
Feat: Riddle, Leona, Azul, Kalim, Vil, Idia, Lilia Bonus: Floyd, Jade, Jamil, Rook, Epel, Malleus
Riddle Rosehearts
Riddle’s face was almost as red as his hair, not out of anger but rather…
[Oh my gooodddd, stomp those tiny feet again, Riddle! Give me that pout~]
Really… should he do it again? Out of nowhere? Well, let’s take a walk to where you clicked then…
[Yaahhh!! So cuteeee!!!]
Well at least you didn’t think him badly for being angry out of nowhere… whoops, he wasn’t supposed to idle like that.
Ahh, why are you moving on to another character? Cater? That good for nothing? The naughty ADeuce duo? He's almost turning from red to green in envy!
Leona Kingscholar
Leona was supposed to be ticked to the brim but definitely not with you. His ears are red from your nonstop rambling while you keep on poking his avatar right on his ear.
[I wonder how it feels like to play with his ears, ah, maybe I should help you clean it too?]
Don’t. Twitch. Ears. Else the player might notice this and question this one new idle.
[Thinking back, I kinda wanna try stepping on his tail like Yuu too~]
Don’t. Swish. Tail. What? Is he a masochist or what? Well, if it’s for you then he wouldn’t mind it.
Wait wait, why are you checking out Ruggie and Jack now? Hey, what do you mean Ruggie has cuter ears and Jack has a fluffier tail? Why do they look so proud? Are they asking to be minced?
Azul Ashengrotto
Azul might break out of the avatar restraint now. You’ve been talking about how you want to squeeze the kid him, round and plump, you quoted.
Why did you find his past appearance adorable?
[Honestly, I kinda want to lift him and his hiding spot and boil him as a takoyaki filling]
Now that made Floyd and Jade snickered. Azul was internally panicking but his avatar did not show him breaking a single sweat.
[Or maybe gather all his ink whenever he cries]
For your pen?
[But I do think squeezing his plump octomer form is the best~ Oh well, he had lost all those baby fats]
And back to how you ramble about his round self again. This was supposed to be disheartening but why was he blushing?
Wait wait, don't look away from him, no! Why are you going to Floyd? And Jade too? He knew Floyd won your heart but allow him to worm into your heart at the very least. Please let one of his three hearts rest in you!
Kalim Al-Asim
Kalim was nodding non-stop at your ramblings, or should he say, wishes. He was really happy that you were taking him as your magic lamp!
[And then, I want you to lace my body with lots of glitters, made of gold!]
No hard task, he just had to grind all that gold into some sort of fairy dust for you!
[Oh! And I want to try swimming in a pool of golden coins like Uncle Scrooge! I wonder if it'll hurt and uncomfortable as I think...]
He was in the same boat with you. You'd have to be careful when diving into the pool! But you can try sleeping on it though you should be careful, just in case the coins swallow you whole!
[And a carpet ride every night~]
Roger that! Tell him more of your wish, will you?
Eh? Why do you stop wishing? No! He will guarantee you that he will make it all come true! Please do not doubt him! Ah... it's because you two are in a different dimension? Screw this barrier that separates you two then.
Vil Schoenheit
Yes, he knew he was unworthy of your praises but he couldn't help but enjoy bathing in it!
[Look at your hair... and that make-up! Wow... truly is the fairest one of all!]
Oh please, no matter how much you compliment him, he could never compete with you beauty-wise! You would always be the true fairest one of all!
[Aha! Look at those heels too, contribute a lot to your height, and make you look so pretty!]
Even a prominent actor like him can't cover his natural reaction which was the growing blush on his face!
Eh? Rook? What does he have to do with him? Too in love with his words more than the beauty in front of you right now? No no no, you must look at him only and no one else!
Idia Shroud
If anything, he was glad his hair did not turn pink! From the way you kept on poking his avatar and patting his head, it made his heart tickled. He was no longer stuttering because the system wanted him to, but because he himself was nervous!
[Oh, show me that one illustration... Kyaaa! Why must you be so cute biting on your sleeve??? It's so inviting!!!]
Ah? That one? He couldn't help but feel embarrassed as you zoomed into his face and examined his hair. Truly, this was too much for his heart!
[Oh oh, and your masquerade costume is so pretty! It makes you look so pretty ffs!]
Ah, it was pretty uncomfortable to wear but he's glad he didn't take it off, not like he can do that anyway. The system won't allow that after all.
Everything feels nice so why are you changing character now? Wait wait! Have you checked his other card? No no no, why is that little shortie fae here? Don't close on him, please! He might want to try hacking your phone soon!
Lilia Vanrouge
Oya? You'd like to dress him up? Kukuku, looks like green and pink would work well on him~
[And... I think we can try curling his long hair, can we change the hue from red to pink like a color wheel?]
...Curling his hair didn't sound bad. Maybe he should try it sometimes and see if it suited him.
[Oh! And I'm gonna hang him upside down like the bat he is! My cute little bat, let's fist-fight!]
You really are an enigma huh? One moment is a sweet and docile lamb then the next moment you are a bull. Hm? Malleus? Why talk about him so sudden? Didn't you say he is your number-one favorite from Diasomnia? So why are you looking at someone else now?
𝐁𝐎𝐍𝐔𝐒:
Floyd Leech
God of Shrimpy~ Keep on poking him, he loves it! Ah, you love his teeth? And his droopy eyes? And his laugh? Hehe, you really love everything about him huh?
So why do you even bother looking at the others? He's going to hug you tight for this silly!
Jade Leech
Ah, he is quite the gentleman, no? Hm? You'd like to keep him as your butler? Why that is quite the generous idea that you allow him to manage your daily life~
With a small dose of love potion in your daily tea every day, he's bound to have you in his arms soon, well, if he ever finds a way to pull you into this twisted wonderland.
Jamil Viper
It truly is an honor to be considered as someone reliable (from babysitting Kalim) and acknowledged as an attendant who could shield you from any danger, truly. He is ready to put his life in line for you so why?
Why are you saying that there's someone else who might fit the position as your attendant more than him? And that person being that slimy eel no less!
Rook Hunt
Ah! This is amazing! To be able to charm you with his words and let him worm into your heart is truly a blessing! Would you like him to write you a poem detailing your beauty?
No no, mon chèri, you shouldn't grace those who are unbefitting of it, don't you think it's a waste to spare the other your grace? Allow this hunter to save you from that trouble.
Epel Felmier
H-huh? You want to dress him up? Naturally, he hates being treated as a doll, a girl no less! But... the idea of you helping him dress and helping him with makeup... he can do this. It is your way of gracing him after all...
Huh? You want to dress Lilia up too? Why? Because he's cuter? Oh no, there's no way there's someone who is prettier than him, look at him, look at how pretty he is in this dress!
Malleus Draconia
If anything, he will always hear you compare him and Riddle to the 'Queen of Heart' and 'Maleficient' from your world. You will praise him for being able to stand on the same level as the actress' beauty which makes him feel giddy.
But boy is he sulking when you start rambling about Riddle and the big-headed Queen. You will dote on him and Riddle back and forth.
Can't you just dote on him?
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utterlyotterlyx · 3 months
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Constellations
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Azriel x Fem!Reader
Summary - Azriel can't allow himself to stand on the side lines anymore and watch as yet another male tries to take you away from him.
Warnings - oblivious reader and Az, angst, pining, Az and Nes being cuties, smut, p in v, oral (f receiving), lots of fluff, flirting
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There were constellations in your eyes.
That was what everyone had said when they'd first met you, alluding to the clear fact that you were a deep daydreamer whenever you sprang to topic, which was more often than you'd think.
Prythian bowed to you, everyone in every nook and cranny in any court knew who you were. A shining star in a court of nightmares.
Every one of the High Lords held a special affection toward you, often asking you to leave Rhysand and the inner circle and join them instead. Helion had made a point of his fondness by making a comment about how other-worldly you looked in Day Court gold, and then later on teasing Rhys about how he would one day succeed in his desire.
Everyone could beg and plead for you as much as they wished, but none of their affection could rival how Azriel felt about you.
Azriel was your shadow. Wherever you went meant that the Shadowsinger stalked not too far behind. He would sit with you and hum whilst you ran your fingers through his hair, each touch sending lightening soaring through his soul. He would walk around Velaris with you endlessly if it meant that he could see that almost childlike wonder in your eyes when you looked at the same restaurant or bookshop that had surely seen a thousand times before. He would soothe away your nightmares, allowing his shadows to pepper your skin in sweet pecks as he held you, and he would let you get close enough to soothe him when his own demons plagued him.
That's why, when he stood to the side of the room with a whisky in hand, did he want to tear apart the male who dared to speak to you. Helion was no regular male. But, as you giggled at one of his flirtatious jokes and rested your hand on his chest, Azriel became sure that he could make him scream like one.
Helion was visiting from the Day Court and it was the last night of his stint, so Rhys had suggested that you all go to Rita's, to relax from the toll of the week. The High Lord in question needed access to a couple of special tomes in one of Velaris' archives, you and Rhys had agreed that the tomes were too valuable to allow outside of the city, so Helion had to come to you. Like all he wanted was another excuse to be around you.
Azriel couldn't blame Helion for it.
Azriel believed that you were the most precious thing on the planet. 500 years of friendship and you stunned him more and more each day with your anecdotes and the innocent chatter that always filled the room.
"He's really trying this again?" Nesta asked, appearing beside him at the railing, wanting to take a moment away from the family madness before Cassian dragged her to dance for the fifth time that night.
"Can you blame him?"
The top three buttons of his shirt were left untethered, exposing that rock hard muscle beneath that was ink kissed and shimmering. Azriel couldn't stop looking at you, you were wearing that dress that you loved so much, sheer white and glittered in fine crystals, a low scooped back that fell perfectly on your figure. It was the only thing that could truly take his breath away.
"When are you going to tell her that you love her?" Nesta gazed at you, she'd never admit it but you were definitely her favourite, she held a special spot for you in her heart, just how everyone did really. "You need to tell her," she turned to him and he peered down on her with a sincerity she'd never seen, "She's incredible, Az. She's not the kind of girl you let get away. Go and love her before someone else does."
"She deserves better than me, Nes," his sad gaze lifted to you, you were starlight and he was shadow, you were pure and he was horribly tainted, and he couldn't have his darkness snuffing out your light.
Nesta gently pulled his sight from the dancefloor, making him focus on her by keeping her palm grazing against his cheek, "You're not a very good spymaster if you can't see how she looks at you."
Azriel didn't know what to say, he just knew that he had to get to you. He rounded Nesta and descended onto the dancefloor, barging past the grinding bodies with you in his sight, sipping your drink and smiling brightly at Helion who was stood far too close to you. You always felt Azriel looming, his shadows curling around your ankles always being a tell-tale sign that he was close.
Your eyes followed the trails of his shadows until you found their owner, your brows furrowed at the urgency he wore whilst he kept glancing at Helion with a tight jaw. It was unsettling.
"I need to speak to you," he pleaded, taking a step closer to you and you had no choice but to look up at him, to let those rippling pools of hazel drown you.
"Az, is every-"
"Please," he cut you off, reaching for you but not quite touching, like he was waiting for your agreement so that he could whisk you away.
You had never seen Azriel look so pained, so pleading and desperate. Without a word to Helion, you nodded and Azriel's fingers slid around your wrists, pulling you into a whirl of colour until you stood on a floor that you recognised and Rita's faded away.
The cabin was warm, everything was in place and tidy, that scent burning wood and orange that clung to the cabin flooded your lungs and made you shiver with delight. You had always loved the place, how perfectly small it was for a lone escape, where you could watch the snow fall from the bay window with a hot chocolate in hand and blanket wrapped tightly around your legs.
It took you a moment to centre yourself, and when you turned, you saw Azriel stood there, head hung low and wings drooped but relishing in the comfortable warmth of where you both were, "What's wrong, Az?"
The only light illuminating the cabin was from the fire, that crackling beast that sent gold and orange light roaring across the space, it welcomed in the faint glow of the moon that spilled onto the floor like an old friend.
"You can't go with Helion," he told you, well, more blurted at you.
"Go with Helion?" You asked and he nodded, anger bubbled in your chest, "Why would I ever do that?"
"He's wanted to take you from us for so long," 200 years to be exact, "Who could blame him, you're the most incredible thing that Prythian has ever made. I thank the Mother every day for you."
"What?"
"Please let me finish," he hated cutting you off, he hated being the reason that you were silenced, "If you speak now, I'll never be able to say what I have to say, what I need to say."
Azriel watched your face soften, the anger that threatened to boil over now evaporated, he watched you move to the sofa and sit down, patting the empty space beside you. He didn't know how you did it, how you could make someone feel so comfortable and heard, he thought about it as he took the seat beside you and heaved in a deep breath, curling one of his wings around you as if he was scared that you'd bolt.
"I love you, Y/N. I love your kindness, how you've never been scared of me. I love the way your eyes sparkle when you're talking about something you're passionate about. I love how you scrunch your nose when you're deep in thought. I love the way you bolt through the streets of Velaris before solstice to make sure everyone is as spoilt as possible. I love you, Y/N. I love everything that you are and everything that we can be, I can't lose you, I don't know who or what I'd be without you."
"There is no one who knows you like I do. I know that you sneak an extra spoonful of sugar into your hot chocolate before Nesta can catch you and tell you off," you smiled softly, "I know that you secretly hate shopping with Mor but would much rather suffer than tell her and take some of her spark away. I know that you can never tell Cassian that Nesta is your favourite unless you wanted to see him sulk for weeks," a soft laugh flew from your lips, "I know you're the reason that Rhys, Cass and I turned out so well, you're the only person we couldn't bear to disappoint."
Not once did you stop looking at him as he spoke. He loved you. Azriel really loved you.
"You love me?" Azriel nodded gently, "But, what about Elain? I thought..."
"Me and Elain?" Azriel's eyes were frantic, "No, Y/N. Gods no. You're the only one I've ever wanted, I tried to love someone else, I tried to love Mor, and maybe on some level I tried to find that with Elain. But no one could ever compare to you, anyone who isn't you aren't worth it."
Silence filled the air, that warm, golden hued air. Azriel was trying to read your mind, to figure out what you were thinking when you started laughing, tears pooled at your bottom lids and one blink sent them flowing down your cheeks. Azriel shuffled closer to you, taking his thumb and wiping away your tears before they dripped from your chin.
"We're so stupid, Az," you sniffled, letting him cradle your face in his hands and continue to wipe away any tears that fell from your eyes, "How could we be so blind?"
"What do you mean?"
Tilting your head to the side, your eyes sparkled, just how they did when you looked at or spoke about something you loved, then you felt it, that tension that had always tugged at your soul snapping into place, clouds of grey became clear sunny skies, and a golden thread soared across it and thrummed with yearning delight.
"I mean," you tugged on that thread, you watched his eyes widen and fill with disbelief, "That I love you too. So much."
"You're my mate," he confessed in a whisper, the bond sprouting into full bloom around you, like you could both see the tendrils of thread sewing your souls together.
Azriel's breath fanned across your face, hot and laced with the scent of whisky, the tip of his nose ran down the slope of your own, and you felt his lips lie millimetres away from yours, you watched his eyes search your soul before flickering downward to the place he craved to touch. Anticipation pulled at your chest and swelled in your stomach, and every bit of doubt vanished when he closed the gap and pressed his lips to yours.
It was like everything fell into place, like the world only began to make sense in that moment. Azriel's lips moved against yours hungrily, the sweep of his tongue into your mouth once you had granted him permission to taste you was enough to make your knees go weak. Heat pooled between your legs and you scrambled to be on top of him, the hem of your dress hitched around your thighs as you rested into his lap.
"Please, Az," you breathed between starving kisses, "I need you."
Azriel's hands moved from the back of your neck and the small of your back, reaching around to grip underneath your thighs, so dangerously close to where you needed him to be. He lifted you, not once breaking the connection of your lips, locking your legs around his waist as he carried you to the bedroom.
"I'm not making you mine on a couch," he lay you on the bed and climbed on top of you, running his fingers down the sides of your thighs, making your back arch as he peppered kisses down your neck, sucking and nibbling on the skin he found there.
You squirmed beneath him, itching to rip his clothes off and allow him to take every part of you, "Please," you whined into his hair, his hand palming your breasts and lips attached to your earlobe, making soft moans fall through your stumbling mouth.
"Tell me what you want," his voice was so deep that it made goosebumps rise across your skin, it was sultry and dark, it matched the shade of his eyes when he pulled away to look down on you with swollen lips and tousled hair. "I'll give you everything."
"I want you."
It was all he needed to hear in order to tear your dress in two and take your hardened nipples in his mouth, sucking and biting on them gently, swirling his tongue around the sensitive nubs of nerves that had you gasping and eyes rolling to the back of your head. You felt like your body was on fire as he kept moving downward, littering kisses down your stomach before resting between your thighs.
The cold air against your core made you gasp again, he ran a finger down your soaked folds and moaned, "You're so wet for me," his voice vibrated against the inside of your thighs, "So perfect," he mumbled before his tongue dragged a line up you, and then again, and again until you were a blubbering mess fisting your fingers through his hair.
Azriel flicked his tongue against that familiar bundle of nerves, curling his tongue around it and sucking on it gently so that he didn't overstimulate you. Stars crept in to the sides of your vision, that hot white heat building in the pit of your stomach, "Don't stop," they were barely coherent words but he heard you and kept his pace, teasing a finger around your entrance before slowly pushing it in an curling it upward.
It sent you toppling off the edge. That white heat burst from you, loud cries of his name flew from your lips and your hands gripped his wrists, stars poured into your eyes and Azriel pushed you through your high.
Too lost in the mind shattering orgasm he had just given you, you didn't feel his hands ran up your back and lock around the back of your neck, you didn't realise that your torso and head were propped up in his arms or see his wings flex above you, "Angel," he cooed, he clenched his hands into your hair and pressed his lips along your jaw, "Let me take care of you."
Azriel was bare before you, his length solid and resting against your thigh, "Make me yours, Az."
Azriel growled, his eyes darkened with possession, "Tell me if it's too much and we can stop," you nodded breathlessly and he kissed you again, harder this time as he pushed himself inside of you, your walls still quivering and pulsating around him.
Once he was pushed to the hilt inside of you, he groaned, it was deep and guttural, the most incredible sound you'd ever heard. Azriel gave you a moment, and you tapped his shoulder lightly to get him to move, you were needing him to move, it was getting too much. Your soul was burning with desire and you needed him to satisfy it before it completely ignited you.
Your mate thrusted into you, the roll of his hips reaching angles you didn't know existed, he took your nipple in his mouth again, growling as his pace quickened and the sound of slapping flesh and declarations of love filled the air.
"You're so beautiful, Angel," his lips found yours again and his movements became sloppy, "I'm so close," he felt your warmth tighten around him, ready to milk his cock as high pitched mewls exploded from your lips, "There she is, my perfect mate."
Azriel's fingers wound in your hair, pressing your forehead to his as he slammed into you, riding you both through those searing hot highs and continuing the long strokes as you both fell down, "I'm yours, Az. I'm all yours."
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Authors Note
😌
1K notes · View notes
evangelical04 · 1 month
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A Single Daffodil || 3
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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. 
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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. 
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“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. 
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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. 
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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?
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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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mondaymelon · 6 months
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hi :)) can i make a request about zhongli who has a s/o who is very self conscious and has low self esteem?? like they’re just constantly hating on themselves and have nothing good to say about themselves making poor zhongli worried :((
₊˚ෆ 𝐀𝐑𝐂𝐇𝐎𝐍𝐒 𝐅𝐎𝐑𝐁𝐈𝐃… | zhongli, xiao, childe x gn!reader
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[ "archons forbid you in having these thoughts once more. love, you are perfect, and please don't let anyone sway that." ]
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— "archons, why did i just do that? ...fuck, i'm such an idiot..."
ZHONGLI interrupted the occasional stroke of his ink-stained brush upon silk canvas, his gilded eyes glancing up and searching your face until they met yours.
"Love, why are you..." His voice trailed off as his gaze filled with warm concern, his expression softening as his brows furrowed, as if he couldn't even begin to fathom why'd you think such a thing. He set down the brush in its hold, before moving to stand. You were sat on the couch across from his desk, where you could remain in his line of sight as he did his duties, and now you were curled up on its cushions, looking at him with the corners of your mouth slightly drawn down into a pout.
"Do you want to talk about it?" He sat down next to you, unsure of how close he should get, and so hovered an arm's length away from your form. You quietly shook your head in a frustrated manner, and he made a short hum of acknowledgement. "Love, come here. Let's take a break together, you and me, alright?"
When he had received your approval, he gently held you in his arms, stroking a gloved hand in your hair soothingly. He was warm, his tall figure engulfing you, and you melted at his touch. "...Zhongli, why do you love someone like me?"
You felt his fingers' delicate touch abruptly still to a halt at your words. Silence encompassed the room, and Zhongli shifted in his seat, drawing closer and finally moving his hand to your face, grabbing at your chin and tilting it upwards so you had no choice but to stare into his glittering eyes. The traces of a smile lingered on his lips. "It'd be impossible not to."
How come your vision had grown so cloudy? "I'm bad. At everything. I can't do anything right."
"Just who told you that? Love, your character is beautiful. You're diligent, hard-working, talented, with a golden heart... it makes me wonder how I even was able to join hands with you in the first place." His corners of his mouth were truly curved upwards now, and he met your gaze with a close eyed smile, his dark-lashed lids fluttering. "Archons forbid... please don't tell that to yourself again, alright?"
Hot tears begun to spill from your eyes at his words. No, that couldn't be true. How... how come it was possible for someone like to trust you to this extent?
Ah, I know why. The thought came to you as he kissed the tears from your sorrow-laden lashes. "I love you."
His cheeks warmed just the slightest, his gaze of melted gold soft as a smile graced his lips once more.
"Yes, I love you too." ₊˚ෆ
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— "agh, messed up again... archons, how come i can't do anything right??"
XIAO's head snapped up as soon as the words were uttered into the midnight air, immediately emerging from the shadows by your side as you stared over the edge of Wangshu Inn's balcony, tightly gripping the wooden railings.
"What... What did you just say?" You flinched at his sudden presence, something you had still yet to grow accustomed to. The adeptus had a habit of listening in on your rambles with yourself, and appeared whenever he deemed fit. However, your words now seemed to have angered him, as eyes were narrowed in displeasure, his cat-like diamond pupils forming mere slits.
"Is there... something wrong?" You tilted your head in confusion, watching a flit of emotions cross Xiao's face in a mere split-second.
"Yes. Three steps away." His voice made it clear that it was no mere request. Complying to his order, you duly backtracked the said amount, empty hands raised in front of you as a sign of surrender. "Don't get too close to the railing. It's dangerous."
You almost laughed. "Ah, but won't you save me if I happen to fall?"
"That's granted." Xiao scoffed, nodding a little too quickly after your question, but caught himself. It seemed that he had, in fact, learned a thing or two about mortal speech from you. "No, don't change the topic now. What you said earlier... do you really believe that?"
"...Well, it's true, isn't it?" You faced the scenery in front of you, the blue, slightly cloud dusted skies, the grooves of the land and the jagged mountains poking up out of harsh stone... it was an easier sight than looking into the adeptus' eyes at the moment. His eyes were acute, perceptive, honed sharply after years of service. Oh, that was the truth, wasn't it? You were afraid that he'd see too much in your gaze, and that he'd know how much of a pathetic failure you were, with nothing but mistake after mistake following your every movement-
"Hey." There was a light touch on your wrist - Xiao's gloved fingers, wrapping around it gently. "Just what are you thinking about? You look... upset, and I don't like it." There it was. His clear eyes, staring into yours with concern. "You... You said you couldn't do anything right, but that's not true at all, love."
Love.
Xiao had never been one to display much affection, yet he had readily agreed to use such a name for his one and only. His voice was quiet, gentle, nothing like how you had first imagined it in the days after the two of you's first encounter.
"Thank you, Xiao." You finally turned to him, face breaking into a smile, and you saw his tense figure visibly relax at your contentment.
"...What for?"
"For being here. Everything." In the dim moonlight, you just might've glimpsed the whisper of a smile on the adeptus' lips, a secret one, a small one, just for you.
"There's no need to thank me. It was the least I could do." ₊˚ෆ
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— "seriously?? this is the eighth damn... i knew i it, i'm absolute shit at everything i do... "
CHILDE's eyes widened as he spun to look at you, his mouth forming a round 'o' as he spotted the countless ink splatters on the paper, on your table, on your fingers, staining your clothes - everything.
...And upon seeing the chaos, clutched his sides and burst into several bouts of laughter that stretched on for minutes. When he was done with his ridicule, he placed his hands on his hips dramatically, a playful smile still decorating his joyful expression. "Aha- Love, just what...?" His voice trailed off, surely there was no need to finish his sentence? There could only be one possible thing he was referring to, and it was the absolute mess you had created, and a mess that you now sat in the center of, blinking awkwardly with a wobbly half-smile on your lips.
"Uhm... I tried to... Ugh, nevermind..." You crumpled up the canvas sheet filled with incoherent scribbles and threw it into some archon-forsaken corner, where you prayed it would never cross your line of sight again. Under your breath, you mumbled out several curse words, a frown tugging at the corners of your mouth. "Shit, this is why no one should place any faith in me, good for nothing..."
The smile on his face dropped. Curse him, and his stupidly acute hearing. Instantly, he was a mere two inches away from you, deep ocean eyes boring into yours in an almost uncanny manner. "...Hey, just now, care to repeat that?"
"...Good for nothing...?" You flinched, unsure of where the sudden wave of bloodlust that was currently flooding your senses had come from - until you glanced up at Childe, who stood over you, his eyes closed in a happy smile but the expression on his face anything but happy.
"Who told you that?" His voice was venomous, it felt like you were being poisoned just listening to it. A dark shadow cast over his eyes, as if this were some dramatic soap opera.
"Did someone have to?" You sighed, waving your hand in the air in a dismissive way. "It's true, though. I seriously can't get anything right, and I haven't even gotten started on what I don't like about myself-"
"Stop." Childe held a finger over your mouth, pressing it to your lips and effectively bringing your words to a halt. "Stop, stop stop, it's all wrong, love!" He looked like a kicked puppy, his eyes downcast and a pout on his lips, and you could practically imagine the ginger folded ears and tail that might've been. "Seriously, how do you even think up of these kinds of things?? They're not true at all!"
Why was he so adamant on this? "But... it is?"
"That's it." Childe waltzed over to where you sat on the ground, before grabbing you from the middle and hoisting you over his shoulder, giving a little huff when you wriggled to try and break free from his grasp. "We're going on a one-week vacation. To Mondstadt. Inazuma. Sumeru. Fontaine. Shneznaya, for all I care. Just not here."
"Do... Do I have a say in this?" You frowned slightly from your position, you arms dangling over your head as you fought your hardest not to laugh.
"No."
"What's even wrong with here, why..."
"Shush. Let me take care of you, won't you?" ₊˚ෆ
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(a/n) apapapappow second request done!! im not doing all that bad hehehe... wish me luck on my ap class midterm!! i should be studying rn but uhm uhm yes genshin men are first priority >>>
-> teehee what if yall left a message on my christmas tree 😶😶😶
໒꒱ || ᴛᴀɢʟɪꜱᴛ (open! send an ask or a comment ♡) : @manager-of-the-pudding-bank, @iamdedinside, @ilyuu, @achlysis, @swivy123, @scara-is-my-wife
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mellowsadistic · 3 months
Text
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"What am I wearing?!" Tracy shrieked, getting up on her knees and goggling at the disposable diaper strapped tightly around her waist. Her head felt funny. Why was she in bed? The last thing she remembered was Sabrina, her stepdaughter-to-be, giving her something to drink, and then...
"Ah, you're awake!" came a young woman's voice. "Did you enjoy your little nap, Tracy?"
Tracy looked up to see Sabrina standing over her, a mocking smile on her face. "Sabrina?" She still felt a little confused and disoriented, but she didn't like the expression on the girl's face at all. "What's going on?" she demanded. "What did you..." She thought back to that moment in the kitchen, when Sabrina had unexpectedly offered to make her morning coffee. "Did you drug me?!" she screeched. "And why did you put me in a fucking diaper?"
Sabrina's smile widened. "If my Dad wants to get remarried, fine," she said matter-of-factly. "But it's not going to be to some vapid bimbo who's only after his wallet."
Tracy flushed. So what if she was only after Sabrina's father for his money? He was in his sixties or something. If he wanted a hot young trophy wife, what was wrong with that? And if she ended up divorcing him after a year or so and taking half of his fortune, it would be his own stupid fault for being so naïve.
"Unfortunately," said Sabrina, "Dad's been totally taken in by your seductive little schemes, so it's up to me to protect him." Her eyes glittered dangerously. "It's up to me to make sure he'll never be attracted to you again."
"What are you..." But Tracy suddenly gasped, a manicured hand flying to her mouth, as she felt a tiny trickle of pee leak into her Pampers. She tried to clamp down on the flow, but nothing happened. The trickle stopped after only a few seconds, but it was enough to make the padding between her legs feel disgustingly warm and wet, and more to the point, it had been completely out of her control. “What did you do to me?!" she squealed, repulsed by the sensation of piss soaking into her pants and pressing against her pussy.
"You really are stupid, aren't you?" Sabrina laughed. "Isn't it obvious, you dumb whore? I made you incontinent. Or is that word too big and complicated for you? Would it be easier to understand if I told you that you'll never use the little girl's room again?"
Tracy stared at her, open-mouthed, too stunned and horrified to speak. She couldn’t be incontinent. She couldn’t be. It wasn't possible to just take someone's control away!
"I added a special ingredient to your latte this morning," Sabrina explained, as if reading her mind. "A little something I found online. A few drops are enough to cause total and permanent incontinence, though I promise you it's quite untraceable, so don't bother running to the police to whine about how your boyfriend's meanie daughter stole your potty training. I made sure not to leave any evidence, and you'll just sound crazy."
Tracy felt as though she'd been doused in icy water. If Sabrina was telling the truth, if she really was incontinent, then she'd never be able to seduce a man again! Her stomach rolled as she imagined trying to persuade Sabrina's father to buy her a new pair of shoes, clutching his arm and rubbing her breasts against his chest, only to feel her diaper drooping between her legs as she pooped in it without warning. She'd be a joke!
Sabrina was smirking. "Are you getting it now, you gold-digging trollop? Your homewrecking days are over. Men aren't going to look twice at you when they find out about your little potty-pants problem. The kind of guys you're after want a hot piece of ass, not a diapered one, and without your sex appeal you're nothing but an overgrown brat. But you should know, there are men out there who are into girls that need diapers. Maybe you could find one of them to look after you? Of course, it wouldn't be the kind of glamorous lifestyle you'd hoped for... It would be a life of spankings, early bedtimes, messy highchair feedings, and begging your Daddy for diapie changes. But hey, at least you wouldn't have to work!"
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mayhemories · 1 year
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Neteyam x readers kids to lovers eventually, before WOTW bc I carnt handle his death
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Eywa, A Sign
Ohhh it kills me, I love this boy. He died for what? Pandora Jesus better resurrects him next time, or I will have words with Mr Cameron. Not sure if I did your request justice, hope I did <3 
Pairing: Neteyam Sully x Reader (James Cameron’s Avatar) 
Requested: Yes | No
Warnings: None? Just straight fluff. Reader is an orphan trope/parental death. Mentions of death. 
Words: 1.58k
Author’s Notes: Neteyam is roughly 18/19 here, Reader is 18, Lo’ak and Kiri are 17, and my girl Tuk is still the same. Set before Way of the Water. 
Please note that the reader utilises she/her pronouns. If you’d prefer male or gender-neutral pronouns in fic I’m more than happy to repost a male or gn version of the story, otherwise include any pronoun preferences in the request box!
Read below the cut
Many Na’vi died following Toruk Macto. Either due to the impact of the battlefield violence or, their wounds upon return to their clan. Your parents, two brave Omatikaya warriors, died at the hands of the Sky People during a routine raid on supply shipments. 
Jake and Neytiri were quick to take you under their care, love and protection. Practically becoming one of their own. Being a few months younger than Neteyam and a year older than the twins, Kiri and Lo’ak, you slipped right in.
Jake was never afraid to reprimand you like you were his own, either. Like the time you were twelve, Lo’ak eleven:
“Now what did I tell you two?” Jake had you and Lo’ak lined up against the wall of the clan stronghold, sprung by the Olo’eyktan from the moment you came sneaking back in after curfew. 
“Don’t be in the forest after eclipse-” You and Lo’ak mumbled under your breaths, knowing that Jake wouldn’t let up.
“Yes! That’s right, don’t be in the forest after eclipse!” he said, exasperated, holding his hands above his head, dragging them down across his face. “And where were you two knuckleheads?” His face was annoyed, though his eyes were soft. We were his kids, god forbid anything happened to us. 
“Look dad (y/n) had nothing to do with it, it was all me-” Lo’ak started, but you finished,
“Sir, Lo’ak didn’t want to go, I wanted to go.” You and Lo’ak shared a small smile, he was your brother, through and through. 
Jake shook his head, hands on hips. 
“Go, go, both of you. Wash up.” He was stern, but as you two skxawngs ran past him you saw the gentle smile lay on his lips. 
As you got older you noticed Jake becoming harder and harder on his boys. For whatever reason Lo’ak almost gave up on pleasing Jake, felt like he could never be enough for him, a spec of dust compared to Neteyam’s glittering gold. Maybe that was why, why he was so impulsive and reckless, consistently. Any attention being good attention for Lo’ak. Regardless of his intentions, you liked that about him. He encourages your sense of adventure like a brother should, was always there to catch you when you fall. Neteyam and Lo’ak were different sides of the same coin, both living to please Jake in one way or another. Jake saw himself in Lo’ak and that scared him, you knew that,
But Neteyam…shit, Neteyam. 
You always saw Neteyam differently. As kids, he felt too cool for you to be around. This developed over time as you, yourself developed. As you felt awkward and out of place in your body, tail giving away every thought and feeling, Neteyam got taller, got broader, got sweeter. As an awkward teenager, your little soft spot evolved into a full-blown crush. You kept it under wraps sure, Lo’ak teasing you here and there but he never thought anything serious of it. Shit, you tried not to think anything of it. He was the future Olo’eyktan, he was the future of the clan. 
Now, freshly eighteen you were considered a woman: A relatively fierce Ikran rider, bow made from wood of the tree to replace the Hometree that was lost to the Sky People, a hunter. You surpassed any ritual trail of clan-life easily, save for one. Save for probably the most important one. 
Finding a mate. 
So, here you were, kneeling on the beautiful deep green moss surrounding the base of the Tree of Voices. The tree was glowing purple, fading to a light pink and back again, streaks of white travelled up and down the tendril of the tree, where you’ve made the bond. The hum of the ancestors created a white noise in you mind, helping to create a true vision. Praying to Eywa always gave you a sense of calm, like all anxieties were being blown right through your body, energy settling itself back into the world. 
“My dear All-Mother Eywa, I come to you now for guidance, for advice.” You started, clamping your eyes shut to encourage any kind of vision, so that you may see into the realm beyond that of physical sight. 
Neteyam knew it was wrong, to listen to your private prayers with Eywa. But he did not make a move to leave his advantageous spot, hidden amongst trees and rocks, he could watch you freely. His whole life felt like it revolved around you, and your alluring presence, strong heart, strong mind. 
Neteyam officially became a man the year prior, it was expected of him as the future clan leader to have already chosen a woman. And, in some ways he had. It had always been you, it was always you. Neteyam loved you, and it was never as a sister as Lo’ak has. When you were children you would play family. Neteyam was the dad, you the mum, Kiri and Lo’ak the kids. Neteyam knew from a young age that he didn’t want to play family with anyone else. 
He assumed Neytiri always knew, too. She never pressured him in claiming a mate, or even talking about it. Jake, well he was less switched on when it came to Neteyam’s shy nature. He was always pestering Neteyam about it-
Jake had flown Neteyam and himself to a floating mountain so that him and his first born son could speak freely: “Look, I’m not even saying you have to mate straight away! But at least court someone Neteyam, you’re the future of this clan-” Jake started, but for the first and last time in his life, Neteyam cut his father off.
“I am waiting for (y/n)!” Neteyam yelled, holding the bridge of his nose, anticipating that Jake would come back with a raised voice as he most often did. It did not come. Instead Jake closed the distance between him and his son, wrapping his arms around his beautiful baby boy, who wasn’t a baby anymore. Neteyam loosened, wrapping his still lanky arms around his father. With his chin resting on Neteyam’s head, Jake chuckled:
“Well then, wait for her as long as you need.” 
“I love her.” Neteyam admitted quietly. 
“I know you do, kid.” 
Neteyam shook the memory from his mind, and focused back on your kneeling, praying figure in front of him. 
“My mother Eywa, what am I to do?” You felt exasperated, lost. “I… I am afraid that the one I love does not love me Eywa.” 
Neteyam’s chest tightened, although he always knew it was a possibility that you may not want him, he tried his hardest swaying anyone else’s decision in the matter. The glares he had sent to all the young na’vi during their teen years, and at your own ceremony of womanhood, Neteyam made it clear with growls and possessive hovering that he was waiting for you. Although, maybe he could’ve made it clearer to you. 
“Great Eywa please, please show me a sign that Neteyam and I will be named mates.” you whispered, scared to admit his name in the scenario, aloud. 
Neteyam felt like he could vomit. He slowly approached you, kneeling beside you, as if he were beginning to pray, himself.
You could feel his heat, his being as he sat down, you didn’t need to open your eyes to confirm. Besides that, you could feel all the blood drain from your body and rush back up to your cheeks and ears. Clearing your throat, you decided that this was a good a sign as any. 
“Neteyam” You opened your eyes, his beautiful warm honey ones already locked on your face, “how much of that did you hear?” 
Neteyam hung his head in shame, shaking some of his braids from their resting places, blood rushing to his cheeks. 
“I am so sorry, I know I shouldn’t have listened to your private words spoken with Eywa.” Neteyam spoke softly, like he always did with you. “But I could not help it, especially knowing you have not chosen a mate yet.” Neteyam spoke around a lump in his throat, “I needed to know why.” 
Your mind was rushing a million miles per minute. But fake bravado was something that Lo’ak taught you, and something you could hide behind.
“You know, you haven’t chosen anyone either. My ceremony was last week, yours was last year.” You said, catching his eye again, with a slight smile on your lips. Neteyam laughed. Shit, you loved that sound. You could die happy now, hearing his laugh. 
“I have chosen,” your stomach dropped at his words, though sensing your anxiety Neteyam wove one of his hands with yours, and pinned you to the spot with his warm eyes. “I just had to wait a year for her to choose me too.” 
And all at once it felt like Eywa had breathed life into you, and Neteyam. Like your soul was made of milk and honey and you were going to flow on forever. 
You kissed him, your hands cupped his beautiful face, his slender fingers settling on your waist, nestling between beads and cloth. 
He came out of the kiss laughing, needing air. You let out a laugh too, keeping your foreheads together. 
“I see you.” You whispered, still scared that if you speak too loud this dream will dissipate into the colours of Pandora’s jungle, floating away from you entirely. 
“I have only ever seen you,” Neteyam said, smiling. His silver freckles set alight from the glow of the Tree of Voices. 
Happiness was simple.
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sarahsartistportfolio · 8 months
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Some MORE sagau since my last post did some numbers and its given me confidence which feels nice.😌
This is completely self indulgence. And because it is the "you" referred to here is female. Slight yandere vibes but my intention was not cult au.
Albedo is the first to notice the unusual amount of shooting stars in the sky. There's never been this many meteorites in such a short span of time. Especially in Mondstadt. As Albedo observes another cluster of stars through his telescope, he notices this time the stars aren't all a bright white but of many different colors. Purple, gold, green and blue. Albedo notes how the sky melts and bends into these different colors too. Its all so strange but fascinating to him. He keeps his eye on the horizon, takes notes, but holds onto hope none of this spills any bad news.
Its Venti who catches you falling from the sky. Of course its him. It has to be him, at least he tells himself this. Its Venti who lays your head in his lap as anxiety and confusion reflects on his face. He gently runs his fingers over your forehead, brushing your hair out of the way. Only to see the sallow cut on your head leaking glittering golden blood. His hand flinches back as he thinks "They've arrived." He delicately holds you in his arms, as his thoughts race through taking you to the seven, which he assumed is the safest option. When you open your eyes. Your brain is fuzzy and your eyes are heavy but you can still make out Venti's visage. "Venti?" Your horse and rough voice manages, but you speak his name in more so disbelief. You let this stranger hold you as your arms are far too weak to push him away. And its Venti whose heart races as he realizes hes the first person you see. The first name you ever speak in Teyvat. His grip tightens as he swears to himself to keep you safe, to watch over you until your full power returns. "You...you really smell like apples." You smile weakly at him, body leaning into his embrace, closing your eyes enjoying the warmth he radiates. "You really do smell like apples." you repeat and Venti. is. beaming.
Venti becomes your comfort in this new world you've been thrust into. You find yourself hiding behind him when you're introduced to new people, holding his hand whenever you're anxious. Venti becomes quite proud that you seek out his presence so much. When you do start to become more brave, venturing out of Mondstadt, spending more time with Zhongli, Ei and Nahida. Venti finds himself becoming uncharacteristically jealous. His grip on you is never tight but it shows through his "You'll leaving already?" and "There's no reason to travel to Liyue/Inazuma/Sumeru ect you can do that here in Mondstadt." He treasures wearing the title of your first and closest friend and doesn't want anyone to replace him. And as you sit with him in the tavern again, making sure he fulfills his promise of writing a song for you, he finds himself getting terribly distracted by your eyes. Hoping he could become more than your dearest friend.
Venti's worship is friendly, playful, almost suffocating but in a good way.
Its Zhongli who becomes your second shadow. As soon as the overexcited bard announces your arrival to the present archons his heart skips a beat. Century after century he has heard stories of your power, your beauty, your grace. And some how he has lived long enough to see you in the flesh. His heart is racing as he waits for you to enter the room. And when you do, your hand in Venti's as he cheerfully introduces you to the geo archon. Zhongli's eyes widen for just a split second before he calmly attempts to regain his composure. He bows low, elegantly, although his knees threaten to give way. "Welcome back your grace." Your presence is otherworldly, ethereal. Your eyes bleed into the ever changing colors of the sky. And while maybe for a short time in the beginning Zhongli questioned himself, why you would return in such a small weak form. But that thought quickly left him, the longer he heard the unwavering kindness in your voice and the warmth of your smile. He was convinced he saw celestia its self within you.
Any and every time you step into Liyue, Zhongli is by your side. Even when your not in his country Zhongli still makes his presence known. Ever so observant and thoughtful. Helps you learn the names of people and places. Patiently tells you stories of the past over a hot cup of tea. Ever so patient Zhongli. When you playfully, nervously, confess you're a little intimidated by him. He waits. As long as you need. For you to initiate conversation, for you to stand closer to him, for you hold his arm as you take a walk through the city. And even as you continue to favor that childish drunken bard, Zhongli knows you would choose him. Maybe not today, but he will keep trying. Patiently demonstrating the upmost consideration so when the time comes for you to choose a spouse you will choose him. Zhongli convinces himself that out of the seven its him who deserves to be by your side. The patiently, gentleman Zhongli, will capture your heart, because who else deserves to spend eternity by your side.
Zhongli's worship is attentive, respectful, quietly fiercely loyal.
When Childe overhears the other fatui members whispering "There are rumors the god of Teyvat has arrived in Mondstadt. Taking on the form of a beautiful young woman." he stops dead in his tracks, eyes widening. He stops the informant demanding more details. Its Childe who has to show the most restraint in his entire life when the you agree to meet with the fatui harbingers. Your expression cold as you greet each member, your voice curt and short not entertaining a longer conversation. Childe has to fight back a grin when he first sees you and hears your voice. The sound immediately familiar to him. His heart racing, fingers twitch to touch you, hold you, to thank you over and over again. When your eyes finally land on him your expression quickly changes. You smile brightly, "Childe" you call his name is such an affection manner it makes his knees weak. The sweet sound throwing his mind back to when your warmth surrounded him in that dark pit. He finds himself dropping to knees before he even thinks, his head low and gaze to the floor to hide the tears threatening to slip. "The Fatui await your every command your grace."
Childe becomes your friend, easily, naturally. Even if you can not remember comforting him in the abyss. The other harbingers are completely dumbfounded why out of all of them you choose to spend all your time with Childe. And Childe is so prideful about it. He becomes infatuated with you. Learns every little thing about you. Falls in love with you. His world seems lighter, brighter whenever he speaks with you. He becomes addicted to your laughter. Wants it all to himself. Starts to imagine what it be like to be yours, your only. And when you return his feelings, he's elated. And Childe doesn't believe he'll ever let you go, he cant, not when he finally has you in the flesh. No he can't see his life without you in it and he'll keep it that way. No matter what or who threatens his happiness.
Childe's worship is possessive, selfish, brazen, bloodthirsty and warm like a fire comforting you on a cold winter's night.
One more below!
SIKE but no keep reading please
I'm currently in the middle of making some genshin related art and if that interests you maybe you can take a look at my instagram 👉👈
I'm also going write a NSFW sagau piece next. Which will include Xiao(and Venti again, really suddenly have fallen hard for him)🥰 this is my first time dipping my toes into writing characters that are not OCs so I'm trying🙇‍♀️
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celestialprincesse · 4 months
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🫧💕
Single mom!reader X Simon Riley cute little post deployment fluff
The moment you see Simon's truck pulling into the shared apartment building parking lot, you're gathering your daughter in one hand and Riley's leash in the other, all whilst being bashed unceremoniously in the face by the 'welcome back' sign your three year old insisted on making with glitter glue pens and heart shaped rhinestones. You'd tried to help her with the spelling, but your unwavering conviction very clearly passed down to her, reflected in the gold glitter lettering of 'wellkum bac' and a child covered in more glitter than her little project. 'No bath mama!' still rings in your ears if you listen hard enough.
Anyone could be fooled into thinking that the grim reaper had come for them at the sight of Simons massive, black clad frame blocking out the already dim light of the hallway - but not you, not your daughter and never Riley. He's already dropping his duffel down by his front door, hoisting your squealing daughter on his hip whilst Riley practically vibrates at his feet with how quickly his tail wags. What you can't get used to, however, is the way you're enveloped into his chest, his masked lips pressing kisses into the crown of your head, Riley's leash dropped so he can lace his free hand through the silky softness of your hair.
"You're back." You hear yourself hum into his chest, letting your fingers curl tight into the old cotton of his henley, reminding yourself that he's here, that he's back and safe. "Are you alright? You're not hurt anywhere?" "Few cuts and scrapes - nothing for you to worry about Love." He rumbles, gently pulling you away from the soft warmth of his chest so that he can take your cheeks in one big palm and look properly at you. "Missed you." Simon admits quietly, allowing himself just a moment of quiet affection whilst your daughter is occupied with grabbing at his mask with her chubby little fingers. "And wha's this?" He turns to look down at the toddler in his arms, pointing at the now crumpled sign she clutches. His smile at her poor spelling and valiant effort is concealed by his balaclava, but you can tell by the way that his brown eyes scrunch at the corners that he's grinning warmly as he drops a kiss on your daughters head, now occupied with Riley's soft ears.
"I made dinner." The sound of your own voice, so full of love and longing, feels foreign to you, as foreign as the concept that you've got someone to make dinner for, someone who cares enough for you and your baby to be a consistent part of your life. "I can bring it over, if you want. I'm sure you're probably desperate for some alone time." You stammer in a poor attempt to not sound so lovesick, a lame play at nonchalance. "Let me drop my stuff and shower and I'll be right 'round." The sound of your daughter whinging as she's handed back to you makes you cringe. Simon lifting his mask to press a tender kiss on the apple of your cheek stops you completely.
𝜗𝜚
They're happening😚 need to commit and give single moms! daughter a name lol
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gimmethatagustd · 5 months
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technicolor | pjm
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Love is one hell of a drug. Bottled and sold on the black market, it isn't for the faint-hearted. You're not really interested in trying it until you meet Jimin.
○ Pairing: Jimin x f!Reader
○ Rating: Explicit/18+
○ Genre: Strangers to lovers, dystopian, angst (?), smut
○ 3 / 100 Drabble Challenge (Dystopian)
○ Word Count: 992
○ Warnings: Implied drug usage (syringes), unprotected vaginal sex, bathroom sex, sex while under the influence (of love jhsdkfsj)
○ Notes: I tried so hard to keep this at a normal drabble word count jhkdfs
○ Post Date: January 11, 2024
○ Masterlist | Send me ur thots
○ What was Jai listening to? Serendipity - BTS
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“Have you ever been in love?” Jimin leans into you so he doesn’t have to yell over the music. He smells like sweat and the remnants of cologne, a musky kind that’s likely expensive. 
You shake your head. Of course not. No one has. 
“I could love you.” 
Jimin’s face glows blue from the strobe lights, then lights up with streaks of pink and gold that cut across his face like lightning. There’s silver glitter smeared under his eyes, and his teeth sparkle when he bites the tip of his tongue with some twisted form of a knowing smile. 
He’s pretty, a technicolor dream sticking out like a beacon amongst a sea of gray bodies grinding to the DJ’s electronic music. You’ve never met someone who looks like him; you've only seen people so colorful and bright on television. No one in real life seeks out passion. No one in real life looks so alive. You don’t even feel it, though sometimes you think there’s something inside of you that yearns to, like a ghost of a reminder that humans’ bodies once evolved to do more than just want. 
They tell you that life is about fulfilling needs: hunger, thirst, and the drive for success. There is no such thing as pleasure. 
Yet here is this stranger promising love where he sits at the bar beside you with a cherry stem tied into a knot between his teeth and silver studs poking out from the shoulders of his blue jean jacket. 
“Could you?” you ask, barely swallowing because your heart thumps in your throat. There’s only one way Jimin could love you, and it isn’t legal.
Jimin pats his chest, curling his fingers around the edge of his jacket. When he pulls it open far enough to peek inside, you see the syringe and a glass vial filled with a light pink liquid tucked into the inside pocket.
“I could,” Jimin says with a smile too pretty to be mixed up in something like this. “Will you let me?”
“Fuck, I love you so fucking much,” Jimin rasps against the curve of your ear. His hot breath dances down your neck, making goosebumps spring up along your forearms.
“I love you too,” you moan the unfamiliar words. They flow out of you easily and are quickly lost between Jimin’s lips and teeth. 
Jimin whimpers when you suck on his bottom lip. The sound is cute. Jimin is cute. It’s the first thing you’d noticed about him when he slid into the seat next to you at the bar. With glitter smeared beneath his eyes and a sparkling smile, he charmed you away from your friends and into the dingy bathroom.  
There’s so much more to Jimin than his looks, though. You love Jimin for everything that he is, the good and the bad, even though you don’t know what any of those things are. It doesn’t matter. Because you love him, those other things don’t need to matter. 
Heat builds between the two of you in the cramped bathroom. Sweat makes the crease of your thigh sticky against Jimin’s bare hip. When you splay your hands against Jimin’s back to pull him closer, you can feel the cotton stick to his skin with sweat. He’d shed his jean jacket before hoisting you up to sit on the edge of the sink. 
Your ass barely fits on the thin lip of the sink. With how sweaty your skin is, you keep almost slipping off of it. The thrust of Jimin’s hips rocks you backward. The back of your thighs are beginning to chafe, but you don’t notice, especially not when Jimin’s hands squeeze your ass to hold you in place as he fucks you with sharp, deep thrusts. 
“It’s so good, Jimin. You feel so good.” Your hands shake as you rake them down his back, pulling his t-shirt hard enough that it makes him gasp when the collar tightens around his neck.
“Best you’ve had, right, baby?”
“Yes, yes, your cock is s-sooo–” Your words are cut off by a loud sob that shudders through your body. 
When you pull Jimin closer, you feel his tears smear against your neck as he tucks his face into your shoulder. You don’t know why you’re both crying, but it feels good to let your body tremble and heave while Jimin’s cock glides in and out of you. This is love, having a body hold you, whisper sweet reassurances in your ear.
Jimin loves you. He loves your body, the way you smell, how wet and hot your pussy is around his cock. He loves your cute gasps and everything, really. He loves everything, even though he knows nothing. 
Jimin cums after you. Once he’s finished, he zips up his jeans and tucks the half-empty vial in the inside pocket of his jean jacket. He helps you hop down from the sink and straighten out your skirt. The high is gone, short-lived, a burst of a star before it dies. Love is fickle like that, you suppose. But what do you know? This is your first time trying it out. 
“I feel… Is it supposed to feel, um, weird?” You press your palm to your chest and take a deep breath. 
Jimin checks his hair in the mirror and flicks at the black strands with his pinkies. 
“It’ll go away after a few hours.” His response feels simple. It feels… 
“I feel really… empty.” 
“It’s like a hangover,” Jimin turns to give you a sparkling smile that makes your stomach twist, “Drink some water and sleep it off.” 
You let Jimin take your phone to input his number. When he gives it back, his contact name is Loverboy. Something about it bothers you. 
“I had fun,” Jimin giggles after kissing your cheek. “If you ever want more love, call me, okay?” 
You watch Jimin slip through the bathroom doors, love held hidden against his chest.
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@jooniesxbby @seokteoksworld @taegeum
Disclaimer: All my writing is fictional and for entertainment purposes only. None of these characters are meant to actually represent the real people mentioned in the stories. 
All rights reserved © @gimmethatagustd​ - Do not copy, repost, modify, or translate any of my writing. Do not use my writing for any AI purposes whatsoever. Do not use my fics for anything aside from reading and commenting on them. My fics will only be posted on this Tumblr and on AO3 (gimmethatagustd & daddytaehyungie). Request an AO3 account here.
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crystalflygeo · 1 year
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Surrogate eggs ft Zhongli + fem!reader
cw/tags: Egg-laying/Oviposition, semi-plublic sex, multiple orgasms, slight fingering, overstimulation, dirty talk, breeding kink, Zhongli has a dragon tongue, praise kink, sex toys??, improper use of geo (can you tell I love that tag?), pet names, some pain??, aftercare.
notes: I disappear for a week and come back with this absolute FILTH omg. It really is just almost 2k of egg-laying made sexy because I am a degenerate and want nothing more than Zhongli filling me up with eggs <3 sorry not sorry.
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Having a 6000 years old dragon ex-god as a lover sure meant you were already more or less used to a certain… spice in your life.
But this, this was certainly new.
“Ah- Zhong- Hnnhg!”
Your legs tremble as a newborn fawn as you stray off the main path and lean against one of the golden ginkgo trees by the side, panting and whining softly.
“Are you alright dear? You look quite flustered.” Zhongli curiously trails after you, hands behind his back, perfectly poised. As if he wasn’t the one making the cor lapis eggs in your pussy vibrate and tease your insides. “Do you need to rest? We’ve barely reached the base of Qingyun peak.” He asks, an amused smile on his lips.
“B-bastard.” You huff out with a pout and immediately feel the vibrations intensify. “O-Oh… fuck-”
Three. Three small polished cor lapis pieces in the shape of eggs, warm and snug and deep inside you. They shift and rub against your sweet spots, pulsing at his will ever since you stepped foot in Jueyun Karst, at first it was an odd sensation but soon enough your panties were soaked, juices running down your legs as you struggled to keep standing, sweet noises coming out of your mouth that only made Zhongli’s gaze darken.
“Zhongli…” You cry out.
“Yes, darling?”
“S-stop… mmh”
“Oh? But you seem to be enjoying yourself so much.”
“Stop… playing dumb.” You grit your teeth, clinging to the tree for dear life. The vibrations calming down to a soft hum, a gentle fucking not unlike his cock. “Please I’m-” You whine again.
You feel his finger softly raise your chin and your hazy half-lidded eyes were met with glittering gold, his diamond pupils mesmerizing and his stare soft and affectionate but also domineering, commanding, and full of lust.
“What do you need, my dear? Tell me.”
You choke a moan at his authoritarian presence, shifting and rubbing your legs together as the pleasure robs you of your strength. “P-please… Zhongli, make me come, please I n-need- It’s not… enough.”  
His eyes shift to the side as he seems to consider it for a moment and you almost mewl for his attention, eyebrows knitting together trying to steel yourself.
“Alright.” He concedes, and leans forward to kiss you softly.
Well, at first.
The geo eggs inside you start to shake and vibrate more intensely and you gasp at the sudden rush of stimulation, Zhongli holds you and pulls you closer, taking the chance to snake his long dragon tongue into your mouth, quickly deepening the kiss and set on devouring you.  
“Hmpnnng-” He swallows your moan as you kiss back the best way you can but it’s suddenly so much- too much- you’ve been teased and edged all the way and he’s- he’s just-
Your body shudders in his arms and you let out a high-pitched noise as you climax. Your insides squeezing and milking the toys inside you, dragging on the pleasure for longer and you cling onto him as your legs threaten to give up. Bliss, pure bliss. And he hasn’t even touched you proper yet.
“There we go…” His rough voice mumbles as he breaks apart the filthy kiss, his hands rub at your hips and you vaguely realize the geo eggs have stopped again. He carefully maneuvers your pliant body until you’re both sitting on the yellowed Liyue grass, his back resting against the tree while you sit between his legs, your back pressed to his chest.
He spreads your legs and holds them open with his own, you blush heavily as you realize his intentions, hiking up your skirt to reveal soft thighs and wet panties to the world. The flimsy fabric is soaked and clings uncomfortably against your pussy, more so as you feel the soft breeze.
“W-wait… right here?”
It is true that barely anyone ever enters Jueyun Karst but it was still risky. A lost adventurer, a lone merchant… you weren’t that far from the main dirt path, anyone could walk in and see you… exposed like this.
Your insides clenched, throbbing around nothing but the eggs inside of you.
Archons you really were depraved.
Zhongli rubs your inner thighs comfortingly before pulling your panties aside, his long gloved fingers skim your heated pussy lips and rub at your hole as it twitches wildly in response.
“Zhongli…” You moan weakly. “I’m so full.”
“I know, you look so pretty with my eggs inside you. Breathtaking.” His other hand rubs circles on your navel. The warmth within the geo energy sent through him spreading heat in a sensual way. “How about you push them out for me and we can be done. I’ll take you home so you can rest, my precious mate.” He nuzzles you.
“W-wha…” You mumble dumbly, but instinctively lean to his touch.
“They’ve been inside you long enough, and… we’ve had our fun.” He explains, kissing at your jaw. Two of his fingers easily sliding inside you, making you jump. “Don’t you think it’s time to let them out? I want to see you lay them.”
Pressure builds in your gut and you nod, biting your lip. Her works those sinful fingers in and out of your pussy slowly, scissoring them to stretch you a little and you moan. Not that you needed that much preparation with the recent orgasm and your… activities early that morning.
After all, those eggs had gotten in somehow, hadn’t they?
Only a few moments later and you feel ready, panting rapidly as if you truly were going into labor yet at the brink of another orgasm, you weakly pulled his hand away “H-Hold me…” You mutter heatedly. Zhongli kisses you softly and you take a deep breath.
And push.
The first egg slides down freely inside you, rapidly moving until it catches at your entrance, it burns a little but feels so good, lightning up pleasured nerves in a way that had you mewling before the stretch disappears, coming out alongside your spilling juices and onto the grass.   
Zhongli doesn’t hesitate to slip his fingers back into your heated core to soothe the sore muscles and play with your pussy a bit more, rubbing over your raw clit to make your hips stutter and your legs shake trying to close.
“That’s the first one, two more.” He says softly, his chin resting on your shoulder as he obviously stares between your legs entranced. You flush at his actions. “You can do it.” He encourages you, elegant fingers spreading your folds lewdly and soaking in your essences.
The whole experience is making you dizzy.
“I-I just… I just need a moment.” You pant, groaning and shifting your position a little so you’re less sitting and more lying against him, lifting your hips slightly and offering him an even better view from above.
“Just imagine the real thing. There will be more of them, slightly bigger and thrumming with elemental energy.” He growled softly against your ear. “Our children. Our clutch.”
It’s just dirty talk. It’s just dirty talk and it sets your blood on fire to hear it. You know his base draconic instincts are going haywire with the idea and archons you want that. You want that so badly.
Another egg stretches your hole and you can only imagine what it looks like as it slips and spreads you open. “Ah- Ah!” You toss your head back, let out a long moan and strain the muscles of your stomach before finally it slips out.
“Good girl.” Comes his smooth baritone in the form of a praise. You sigh in relief, rutting against his fingers as reward. You see slick threads of your juices all over on his gloves, the shiny eggs and your pussy, connecting everything together in a mess of a shiny cobweb. It’s obscene.
It’s so hot.
“Just one more, darling.” The ex-archon soothes you, possessively rubbing at your navel once again although you feel something’s different, like something shifts a little inside you. “Though, I feel this one is just a little bigger… closer to the real thing.”
Your eyes widen.
“No, no, no, you did it on purpose… just now… m-make it smaller again, please!” You shake your head frantically, digging your nails against his arms and squirming against the feeling of his fingertips dancing around your folds.
“Shhh, shhh” He cooed, kissing at your neck. “You can do it, I know you can. Consider it… practice.” You can practically feel the smirk Zhongli presses against your skin.
“I already came so much…” You whisper, tears in your eyes. “Zhongliiii…”
“You got this.” He kisses your temple. “Just one more. I want to see that sweet pussy stretch around my egg, please?”
You groan at his filthy words, hips snapping against phantom stimulation as your pussy quivers. You brace yourself and breathe in deeply before squeezing your eyes shut and doing your best to push against the overstimulation. Your hole stretches impossibly wide, widening against the grit of the egg and pressing against your clit making you keen. It rests there a few seconds, heavy, solid, before finally popping out with a wet squelch, dropping right by the other two, and you scream at the excruciating mix of pain and pleasure.
For a moment you can’t even breathe, much less speak as you rest a little. Black spots dance in your vision and your ears are ringing. When you come to again Zhongli is desperately peppering you with kisses, caresses and praise. Hugging you close and growling dark promises into your skin.
“-did so well. My little mate. My perfect mate. Want to breed you for real. Fill you up. You’d give me wonderful little half adepti. So good for me. Truly worthy to be a dragon’s mate. Should keep you in my nest. Love you so much-”      
Sluggish, you close your legs and pull down your skirt clumsily, ignoring the soreness and sticky feeling as your body sags against him in exhaustion.    
The dragon is practically purring, having mellowed down a little yet obviously pleased after having you bear his eggs, albeit fake ones. The intention is there… as well as the possibility for the future.
“We should go to the abode, you deserve a good rest. I’ll clean you up and get you something to eat and drink, hm?”
“Just a little more, Li.” You mumble tired. “It’s warm and cozy here…”
He chuckles and pets your hair. “Alright.”
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f0point5 · 7 days
Note
Omg pleaseeeeee do max and very very drunk Emilia. I feel like she is a very funny, dramatic, uncoordinated, extremely uncooperative drunk Lolol
Andddd we’re back. Because that quali deeply upset me and I needed a bit of comfort. It’s just Max being an absolute cutie really. I hope you like it!!!!
✨Set in the summer of 2022✨
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You eyes are liquor, (your) body is gold
Max jolts awake to the sound of his phone buzzing. He’s purposely put it in the ashtray on his beside table so that it would make noise. You said when you’d headed out ride the night that you would get a cab home since Lando would be in no state to drive you, but Max wanted to keep his phone on just in case.
He looks down at the screen. 2:37 AM. It’s a text from Stan. Maybe you’re home already and he didn’t hear you come in.
As if by some metaphysical connection, his phone starts buzzing with a call. Lando’s face lights up the screen.
“Hello?” Max says when he picks up, surprises by how he still sounds asleep. No response comes, only the deafening beat of some pretty aggressive remix of some song he doesn’t like. “Lando?”
“Mate,” Lando shouts, though Max barely hear him. “Thank God. Come and get your girlfriend,”
“She’s not-“
“I don’t care,” the background music quiets down some, Max guesses Lando has made it to the bathroom. “She’s wasted and I’ve just met a Lithuanian gymnast,”
It must be the exhaustion from a full day of sim practice and three phone interviews, but Max’s brain cannot connect the dots in Lando’s sentence “What?” He asks through a yawn.
“Come and get your girlfriend so I can get laid. Now.”
******************************
Max is in the car in five minutes. In fifteen, he’s pulling into the nearest parking spot to the club he can find. His body is still heavy with sleep, not even the can of Red Bull he drank in the car has helped. He gets out and heads towards the door, craning his neck to look for either you or Lando among the hoards of smokers lingering outside.
You’re sitting on the edge of a potted plant outside the building. You’re wearing a gold mini dress covered in crystals, so you’re not exactly hard to notice. A thin sheen of sweat covers your exposed skin. Your hair is a mess. Illuminated by the light spilling from the building behind you, you’re glittering.
When you look up and see him, a tired smile spreads across your lips and you wave.
“Maxy!”
He waves back awkwardly. He can tell even from where he’s standing that you’re wasted by the way your eyes are unfocused and your head is lolling around on your neck. He’s glad he kept his phone on, he wouldn’t want you in a cab in this state.
Beside you is Lando, standing with a blonde bombshell of a woman so perfect looking she must have been designed by a very famous surgeon. Lando catches Max’s eye and winks just as he comes to a stop in front of you.
“Maxy,” this time it’s more of a sigh, a hand running through your hair as your shoulders slump. You look around with a frown. “What are you doing here? Were you here the whole time?” You wave your arm in the direction of the club but the effort seems to tire you.
“No,” Max says, smoothing your hair for you. “I was at home, and now I’m here to take you home,”
“I don’t want to go home,” you whine, crossing your arms over your chest. “I want to go to the beach,”
Max frowns in confusion, looking over at Lando for answer, who just shrugs. Max shakes his head and pulls you to your feet, hooking an arm around your waist to steady you.
“Thank you,” Lando says, rolling his eyes at you. He holds out his fist to Max.
“You,” Max says as he bumps Lando’s fist with his own, “are welcome,”
“Goodnight, my dear,” Lando says, leaning over to give you a sideways hug and a kiss to cheek.
“Tip her well,” you say to Lando, patting his chest as his eyes bulge.
Max coughs to hide his laugh. “Come on, let’s go before you mess something else up,” he says, bracketing you to his side as he begins to steer you towards the car.
“What did I mess up?” You ask, words slurring as you teeter on your heels, legs crossing with every step. “Did I mess up your evening?”
“No,” Max says, squeezing your waist. His night wasn’t ruined, just his sleep schedule.
“Were you like,” you lean closer to him, your voice dropping to a whisper, “masturbating?”
Max chokes on air. “No!” He rasps out, struggling to keep walking. He almost lets go of you out of sheer awkwardness before he remembers you likely need him to remain upright, especially if you’re talking like this.
“Just asking,” you say, and Max has to imagine your eye roll because he absolutely cannot look at you right now. “That’s what I do when you’re not home,”
Add this to the long list of things I did not want to know, Max thinks to himself. He thinks he might never be able to keep sane while out of the house now.
“Your showerhead has this amazing setting-“
Max is almost glad when you trip while stepping off the pavement as he leads you to the passenger side of the car because it makes you stop talking. He knows you prefer the showerhead in his en-suite, he’d been planning to get your bathroom redone so you could have the same one. Oh God. How would it look if he does that now after you’ve said that? How would it look if he doesn’t?
He resolves to never think about that comment ever again.
“Up you go,” he says, guiding you up into the car, one hand on your head in case you don’t duck. Your body flops into the seat and Max tucks your legs in for you. He finds himself a little annoyed with Lando for letting you get in this state.
He peels out of the parking and down the street, yawning as he drives. He watches out of the corner of his eye as you sink down in the seat and turn on the seat heater.
There’s a surprising amount of traffic on the road. But summer in the Petri dish that is Monaco is always too busy.
“Are we going to the beach?” You asks, sliding up to look out of the window.
“No,” Max scoffs at the idea.
“But I said I wanted to go to the beach,” you drawl, a pensive look on your face.
“It’s night time,” Max explains.
“Um,” you narrow your eyes at him like you’re doubting something. “Since when do you not do what I want?”
Max isn’t sure what to say to that. Sure, he can’t remember the last time he said no to something you wanted but that was circumstantial. He wanted you to be happy, and god knows he owed you for all the space he took up in the world. But that didn’t make him a pushover. No, it just made him a good friend.
“I don’t always-“ He starts, but then your hands pull one of his off the steering wheel, and he watches as you rest it in your lap.
“Whoa. Your wrist is big,” you say wondrously, trying to touch your thumb to your middle finger around Max’s wrist.
When you can’t, you trace the veins the slightly swollen veins in his arm, your fingernails grazing his skin. It tickles, and Max fights the urge to move, even when you bend his fingers back with yours to opens his palm. He keeps glancing over at you, wondering what you see. You’re looking at his hand like there are words written on his skin.
“I need my hand,” he says after a while, only because there’s a vague thought in his head that if there were something written on him, it’s not something he’d want you to read.
“Nope.” You say simply, slotting your fingers into his and turning to look out the window.
My God, this woman.
He drives the rest of the way with one hand, using your linked fingers to turn on the indicator at every turn.
By the time he parks up in the underground garage, you’re half asleep, blinking awake only when Max turns off the car. He gets out and goes round to your side before you’ve even moved.
“Are we home already?” You rub your eyes, adjusting to the harsh lighting.
“Yeah,” Max says as you slide out of the car. One of your ankles bends in your heel and stumble into Max. “Are you okay?”
“I’m fine. I’m good. I’m-“ you try to stand straight and immediately wince. “Ow,”
Max rolls his eyes and crouches down. “Sit down.” He instructs, and for once you just do what he says, lowering yourself to sit on the edge of the car floor while Max busies himself with sliding your heels off your feet. He hears you mumbling about a headache but he doesn’t respond.
One thing at a time, please.
“Better?” He asks you, and you nod. That is, until you try to stand again.
“Ow,”
Watching you hop on one foot, Max lets out a loud sigh. It’s only when he sees tears pooling in your eyes that all his irritation evaporates.
“Come here,” he sighs, and when you hobble into him, he grips your waist and lifts, chuckling at your startled squeak. “It’s okay, I’ve got you,”
You wrap your legs around his waist, and he struggles to find an appropriate place to hold you without touching you. He settles for placing his arm all the way underneath you in a way that is extremely painful for him but decidedly the least inappropriate.
Not that it seems like you would care. You’re mumbling nonsense into his neck, swinging your shoes so that the heels poke into his back, blissfully unaware as Max carries you into the lift, straining to push the button for the penthouse.
You lift your head from Max’s neck mid sentence, just as the lift starts to move. “…but I just hate cheeseboards and so it would always be doomed,” you babble, leaning back a little so you can look Max in the eye. “You know?”
Max doesn’t know. He has no idea. He’s missed the whole story that’s got you to talking about cheese and even if he had heard, he can’t really concentrate with you wrapped around him like a koala.
“Uh-“ he stammers, forcing himself to maintain eye contact while he tries to think of something to say. You stare at him blankly, “I don’t-“
“Your eyes are so…” you trail off, head tilting as you stare. Max watches your lips part, waiting for something, anything. “Blue,”
He husks out a laugh, and you just keep staring at him, unaware of what you’ve said.
You rest your forehead on his shoulder and take a deep breath. “It’s a weird feeling,” you say wistfully. “Is this what it feels like in the car? Like you’re flying?”
Before Max can ask what you mean, he feels you curl in on him, you arms gripping him tighter, and the question dies on his lips.
A few seconds later the lift opens into your apartment, and Max gently eases you to the floor.
“You’re on your own now,” he says, but you’re already stumbling into the hallway, tiptoeing past his trainers and padel bag as Jimmy appears to greet you.
“Kitty!” You squeal, heading towards him. As if he can sense your altered state, the car turns around and hightails it towards Max’s bedroom. You turn to Max with a pout. “Ew. Why does he hate me?”
“He doesn’t-“
“I’m hungry,”
Of course you are.
“I don’t think anything is open right now,”
“But I’m starving. Look, you can see my bones,” you whine, and before Max can even process your words you pull your dress straight over your head.
“Oh, fuck-“
Max slaps his hand over his eyes so fast he hurts his nose. He turns around for good measure, and even that doesn’t feel like enough. He doesn’t even feel like he should be in the room.
“Sweater,” is all he manages to say as he shrugs out of his zip up hoodie. He holds it in your direction, one hand back over his eyes.
“Huh?”
“Sweater,” Max repeats, violently shaking the hoodie in your direction. “Sweatshirt. Please put on the sweatshirt,”
“I’m wearing pasties, you pervert,” you say through a laugh, but Max still doesn’t uncover his eyes because he’s not sure that nipples would be the entirety of the problem.
Eventually he feels you tugging on the shirt and he lets out a sigh of relief when he hears you zip it up. When he opens his eyes and turns around, you’re smiling at him in a way that is so patronising he wants to crawl into a hole.
“I’m still hungry,” you huff out, crossing your arms.
Sometimes Max remembers why he used to dislike you.
He sighs again. “Sit over there,” he says, nodding to the couch. “I’ll heat something up,”
You flash him a toothy grin and now he really remembers why he used to dislike you.
He watches you flop down on the couch and turn on the tv, flipping through channels while takes a container of mushroom tagliatelle out of the fridge and sticking it in the microwave for you. You make weird sounds of displeasure - something akin to a depressed goat - at everything that comes on tv, and Max fights the urge to comment. He picks up your dress while he waits for the food to hear, so that the cats don’t get to it, and leaves it folded on the hall table.
He perversely relishes the moments where he gets to be the grown up out of the two of you.
Eventually the microwave beeps and he put the pasta in a bowl before joining you in the living room. You look up at him from under the hood of his sweatshirt, a smile splitting your face.
“I love you,” you say as you take the bowl, and Max smiles. Maybe your drunk personality isn’t so bad.
“I love you, too,”
You giggle. “I was talking to the pasta,” you tell him, giggling again at the look on his face.
Max settles onto the couch beside you, the exhaustion finally taking over his body. He doubts he’ll make it to bed tonight. He can already feel his eyelids getting heavy.
“Thank you for taking care of me,” it’s a whisper into the nonexistent space between you, and Max just makes a sound of acknowledgement through the haze of fatigue. “That was for you, not the pasta,”
“Thank you for clarifying,” he murmurs, not even opening his eyes, though he doesn’t remember closing them.
“And I do love you. Like…like coming up in the lift,” your voice seems further away now, and he can’t tell whether the gentle lilt is because he’s tired, or you are. He can’t understand what you mean, and once again he wants to ask, but his lips don’t move. Maybe he doesn’t need to know.
All he knows is that he can feel the heat of your skin next to his. You’re home. You’re safe. He can rest now.
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rae-writes · 7 months
Text
familiars
Mammon, Satan, Asmo || 0.8k wc || crack post [to make up for all the angst recently] ft. menace mc (Tannie's is my favorite bc that's literally me)
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Mammon
The second born was on his way to Lucifer’s office again when he saw you plopped on the common room floor
You had tons of materials surrounding you : scissors, needles, thread, fabric, small stickers— even glitter glue! 
Mammon didn’t have the time to stop and ask why, he just chalked it up to his little human just doing their weird little human things
After he was dismissed from Lucifer’s office (and after a 3 fucking hour long lecture), he made his way back to the common room, but you were gone
In your place was a yellow sticky note that read “Hey Mammon! Don’t freak out, I just went outside for a bit <3” 
And that made him freak out even more
Because it was raining like all fuck out there
So he scrambles to the entrance hall and throws open the front door, ready to yell, when he just stops 
You’re crouched down on the steps with an umbrella over you while his crow familiars hop around your feet
They’re all decked out in tiny rain hats, rain coats, and some of his older ones even have small rain boots
Currently, you’re putting a glittery gold lookin set on Mammon’s youngest crow and the demon’s heart swells
The crows notice him fairly quickly and begin to jump around even more, making you look back and beam 
“Hi Mamoney! Alright little fella, you’re all good to go now! Go say hi to Mammon!” 
He could cry. Literally sob at how fucking cute this is
“Aw, guys! Look at ya!” He pets them over their hats, grinnin’ ear to ear, “Mc. You didn’t tell me you wanted to parent the kids with me.” 
You laughed, making him grin even more. “You mentioned them getting cold when they got rained on so I figured I’d help out! Don’t they just look so cute?!” 
Mammon’s eyes were practically heart shaped, “y-yeah…”
(he absolutely gets you and him a rain set so you can all go out in them like a big family) 
(and yes his brothers made fun of him for it and no he didn’t care— especially not when you slapped them with your wet rain hat)
Satan 
You and Satan were out on a simple walk. A relaxing, uneventful walk
That is until you get approached by a fucking unicorn
You don’t know what the hell to do or say- you just kinda stand there staring for a minute while Satan pets his uh…friend. He chuckles at your response, raising an eyebrow when you hold a single finger up
“Someone either slipped me some severe drugs or you’re just a stone cold traitor who did not tell me he was bffs with this gorgeous creature. Both of which I will take offense to.” 
“I deeply apologize for my transgressions, my love.” 
You glanced at the unicorn with a look of ‘can you fucking believe this guy’ before raising a hand, “May I?” 
You received a neigh, to which you leaned in closer and stroked up its nose, where you then received a delighted huff 
“I would die for you.” 
Satan snorted, shoulders shaking with barely contained laughter. His laughter only got louder when his familiar looked at him with the equivalent expression of ‘how dare you keep this human from me’ 
“Yes, yes, I should’ve introduced you two sooner. Are we done pouting now?” 
You and the unicorn looked at eachother. Then at Satan. Then back to each other. “No.”
He smiled, still amused, “then how about a ride through town? I’ll walk beside you.”
“Like the peasant you are. Alright- onward, Uni! Let’s go kick a guy in the gut.”
...perhaps Satan had been leaving you alone with Belphie for too long
Asmo 
For once (though not for long), the House of Lamentation was peacefully quiet
Most of them were doing their own thing in the common room, existing without a hitch beside each other— a perfect day, in Lucifer’s opinion 
“EEEEKKK!”
The sound was extremely high pitched and cracked, but it was written off as ‘just Mammon doing something stupid again’ 
Yeah…until he walked through the door asking what the hell that noise was. Then they all did a headcount- you were the only one not present 
Asmo turned into the world’s biggest track star in that moment and made his way to you first, finding you floating in mid air at the entrance hall
And on the floor was a sleek black scorpion just…sitting there
“Hon…don’t tell me you’re scared of my gorgeous little baby?!” 
You stared at him like he was fucking nuts— which you thought so in that moment. “I’m sorry, I was a bit too focused on the stINGER!” 
“He doesn’t sting anyone unless I tell him too, Hon, no worries!” 
…’no worries’ he says, as if the creepy thing wasn’t among the most dangerous animals to humans. And a human, you were 
In fairness, the scorpion was not so horrible looking. It’s tail faded into a hot pink like Azzy’s horns and it’s feet(?) we’re tipped with gold. And it had a faint sparkly coat. Of course. 
“Okay…I can deal with this…I guess he is..kind of..pretty..?” 
“Indeed he is! I shine him myself! You wanna hold him?” 
“No, that’s alrig— STOP BRINGING IT CLOSER!”
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jksprincess10 · 1 year
Note
Meeting Pedro at the Oscar’s after party 👀 maybe he invites you back for drunk food hehe, a dream.
Hope this fits your vision !! I loved writing more Pedro, being a CONSENT KING here.
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CW: Age gap, drinking, making out, sexual tension.
The night had felt like a fever dream, especially when you got to the after party and you got even closer to all these celebrities. Your movie hadn’t won, but you were still thankful to be there as a young and upcoming actress. You felt loved.
The lights were colorful, the music was loud. The bodies danced, the glitter of their dresses and the striking white of their shirts shining through the dim lighting. You had come with your costar, but had somehow lost her in the crowd.
A man you didn’t recognize at first waved at you. He had greying curly hair, a patchy beard and wore thick black glasses. When your vision finally adjusted, you recognized Pedro Pascal. You had talked to him a few times, as you had found yourselves in the same parties in the last months.
You went up to him with a smile and pulled him for a tight hug. His big hands rested on your shoulders; he was always so respectful.
“Congrats on the nomination, you must be so proud.” He had to talk pretty close to your ear and pretty loud for you to hear it.
“I still can’t believe it. You did great when you presented tonight!”
“I was so fucking nervous…” He admitted, stroking the back of his head. “Can I get you a drink? Do you need to sit down?”
“Yes and yes. Those heels are killing me. And I can’t wait to take off that dress.”
You were wearing a beautiful black dress. The long skirt was made of fluffy tulle and the top was a corset, the bottom of it made of mesh with beautiful embroidery. You had gold heels that matched your jewelry.
He laughed. “Go sit there, darling, I’ll get you a drink.”
You took a seat and took off your heels to massage your red feet as you waited for Pedro. He was such a gentleman, you didn’t mind spending more time with him. He came back with two red wine glasses, that you drank over a conversation.
**
Maybe the third glass was too much for you to handle. Pedro was also tispy, but you were far worse than him. Maybe you had danced close to him. Maybe you had shaken your butt against him. You weren’t sure if you had dreamed it in your drunken state.
“Was thinking of heading home and ordering food, you in?”
“I thought you’d never ask.” You winked clumsily, which made him laugh.
**
Once at his place, you two ordered junk food and waited in his living room.
“Take off your dress, I’ll give you spare clothes.”
“Jeez, take me to dinner first, Pedro.”
He laughed, cheeks red, before he held your hand and brought you to his room. He pulled out an oversized t-shirt from his drawers and gave it to you.  You turned around to let him help you undo your corset that was crushing your ribs. You felt his fingers brush the skin of your back lightly as he pushed your hair out of the way, which made you shiver.
“I’ll give you some space and change elsewhere.”
Your blurred mind wanted to tell him to stay, but you managed to keep your mouth shut.
You stepped off your dress when he closed the door behind him and replaced it with an oversized Lakers shirt. It stopped at your thighs.
When you went back to the living room, Pedro was already sitting on the couch, wearing more laid-back clothes. He managed not to stare at your thighs and your body, but all failed when you climbed on his lap. There was barely any fabric between your two bodies.
He put his strong hands on your shoulders, like to keep you away. You pouted.
“You’re very drunk. And I’m very old.”
“Also very hot. ”
Maybe the strength of his arm had gave in or maybe his willpower to push you away disappeared. He wanted this; he couldn’t lie to himself. His body was reacting to the attention you were giving him.
Your mouth met his in a hungry kiss. His hands rested on your waist, resisting the urge to pull at the fabric you were wearing. You rested your hands on his rough cheeks as you deepened the kiss. You were heating up, and you clearly felt his arousal through the thin pajama pants he was wearing.
“Okay okay, let’s calm down, food’s coming…” He said between kisses and drunken giggles.
You let go of his mouth finally, but instead, your red painted lips found his throat, where tension was making a vein pop out more. You felt him breathe heavily under you.
His phone rang, indicating that your food was at the front. You finally had to let go, letting your clumsy body slump on his couch. You weren’t hungry for food anymore.
You watched as Pedro got out to get the pizza you ordered. When he came back, he laid the pizza on the table in the kitchen and joined you at your initial spot, sitting beside you when you gave him some space.
“You want pizza?”
“M’not really hungry for food anymore.”
He was trying really hard to be good about this.
“Look, honey… Let’s wait until you’re not drunk and see if you still want this.” The actor spoke softly, not trying to look like he was rejecting you.
“Okay…”
“We’ll eat and get you to sleep.”
**
The next morning, you had woken up in Pedro’s bed, still all dressed up in his clothes. When he felt you move, he turned around to look at you with a sleepy smile and tired, soft eyes.
“You still want this?” He asked, voice raspy from sleep.
As an answer, you threw one of your legs around him to bring him closer, your lips trapping his in a passionate kiss.
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