#the fact that i almost forgot his birthday | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

evangelical04 · 16 days

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A Single Daffodil || 4

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: 12.5K

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: sorry this is being posted almost a month later! i was on a road trip with my friends but I wanted to get this out before my birthday (it's on the 17th eek!!) but I hope you guys like it! as usual, please tell me what you guys think! i'd love to hear your opinions <33 also I'm sorry if this chapter seems kinda boring, but the next one is gonna have some drama!! oooo

Taglist:

@yoongisducky @kam9404 @sumzysworld @tarahardcore @viankiss @babystarcandylovejk @ktownshizzle @futuristicenemychaos @igot7fairlyoddparents @baechugff @pb89nv @peachytokki @ratherbfangirling @themwordsblog @daisies-and-dandelionpuffs @kimmalik @honeyypages @captainchrisstan @khaimahfe @yoongibaybee @kooklovee @whoa-jo @familiarlikemymirror3 @blueberriesm @llallaaa @weareatthebadlands @purpleheartsandarock1 @lillmeowmeowsblog @this-most-assuredly-counts @kayleefriedchicken @ur-grandmum @praetae @sylviamuela

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Waking up in an unfamiliar room was jarring, initially. It took you a couple of rounds of rubbing your eyes to realize that you were no longer in your cozy two-bedroom apartment with soft lighting and warm-colored pillows. You awoke to harsh sunlight hitting your face, blank walls, and beige furniture. You leaned back against the light brown headboard of your bed and ran your hands through your messy tangles of hair, having forgone brushing it out the previous night. Glancing at your phone beside you, you noted the time being only a bit past nine.

You needed tea, warm tea.

You shuffled out of bed, feeling the cold air nip at your bare legs, but you couldn’t find the motivation to change into warm clothing. You tied your hair into a messy ponytail, deciding to attend to it later, and exited your room, facing the cold and unfriendly hallway. There was a faint sound of quiet jazz from the kitchen, likely Mrs. Lim, and you descended the stairs. As you reached the bottom, you groaned internally, lamenting the fact that your favorite teas were still in your apartment.

Rounding the corner into view of the kitchen had you stopping in your tracks. Yoongi was sat atop one of the counter stools, peacefully scrolling on his phone in the same clothes you’d seen him in last night during your discussion. The unexpected sight had you stumbling backwards, bumping into the large recliner that sat behind you. The sound alerted him to your presence, his eyes turning to find your form.

“Um, hi,” you stuttered, “I didn’t expect to see you this morning.”

Yoongi hummed, eyes trailing up and down your figure, mouth upturned. You shifted your weight onto the other foot, feeling uncomfortable, before crossing your arms over your chest. You shouldn’t be this comfortable to walk around braless yet, you internally scolded.

“Well, it is the weekend,” Yoongi mused, still not taking his eyes off your chilled form. You laughed awkwardly, nodding, “Yeah, I suppose it is, isn’t it? I’ll be right back, actually, I forgot my phone upstairs.”

You didn’t wait to see his response before turning around and rushing back up the stairs. Reaching your room and closing the door behind you, you breathed heavily. What was that? You buried your head in your hands, sliding down the door to sit with your knees pulled to your chest, you should’ve expected him in his own goddamn house. Your cheeks burned at the memory of his eyes tracing your silhouette. How embarrassing. You wallowed in your self-pity a bit longer before rising and entering your large closet.

You picked out a simple cropped grey sweatshirt and black sweatpants, not finding a need to appear any more formal. You wanted to appear casual after the embarrassing display you started the morning off with. Plus, if Yoongi said this marriage meant nothing, you could walk around his house in loungewear. As long as your mother didn’t find out.

The thick cotton felt much more comfortable and warm, considering the slightly chilly air in the house. Yoongi must like it to be a bit colder, you thought absently. As you finished your morning routine, brushing your teeth and combing through your hair, making sure to pat on some moisturizer and acne treatment, your thoughts wandered back to seeing Yoongi earlier.

The way he had been looking at you was strange, much like Hoseok had mentioned. You weren’t dense, you knew the intention hidden behind a gaze like that, you’d been on the giving and receiving end before. What had you so puzzled was why Yoongi would be looking at you like that. Wasn’t he the one to draw such a clear line between you two?

Aside from the reason as to why he would be tracing the edges of your curves with his eyes was the effect that it had on you. Frustratingly, Yoongi’s hungry gaze sent warmth through your veins, and excitement pooled in your stomach. It was an embarrassing response, considering how he’d treated you before. At the same time, it felt expected. You had been pining after this man for so long and now he was showing the slightest bit of reciprocation, albeit, with more physical intentions than you. It only felt natural that it would leave you giddy with warm cheeks. It made you happy to think that Yoongi could be seeing you in a similar light.

Your dizzy smile faded as you looked in the mirror at your flushed face. What were you doing? The last eight months had been spent trying to drill into yourself that Yoongi would never like you that way because you couldn’t afford to get your hopes up. Why were you entertaining the idea again after one sultry stare? You felt pathetic, you had folded so easily as you always did when it came to him.��

Smacking your cheeks a couple of times, you readied yourself to head back downstairs. He was just a man, no matter how attractive. Descending the stairs once more, you noticed Yoongi had moved to the couch, leaning back with his coffee on the table next to him, scrolling away on his phone. He hadn’t noticed your reentrance just yet and you awkwardly hovered by the edge of the couch, trying to get his attention.

Awkwardly clearing your throat did the trick and his gaze turned toward you, an eyebrow raised at your changed appearance.

“Do you, um, do you have any tea,” you mumbled out, avoiding his intense stare. You heard him hum, likely considering his kitchen inventory, before answering, “Sorry, no, just coffee. Would you like me to order some? There’s also coffee and juice if you want that instead.”

You quickly shook your head at his offer of ordering tea, “That’s fine, I’ll just have some warm water, thanks,” and quickly made your way into the kitchen, reaching the fridge. The metal box was massive, towering over you and quite wide, with a sleek, silver finish. There were no magnets or pictures adorning the exterior, though. Pulling it open, your eyes raked over the full contents, spotting a pitcher of what seemed like orange juice, but no Britta Filter or something of the like. Glancing at the sink, you noticed a second spout seemingly for filtered water. Shrugging, you supposed that Yoongi would be able to afford that and not have to have a water filter jug.

Next, you hunted for a kettle, which wasn’t too difficult to find, placed in a corner of the countertop. You took it out, setting it on the counter next to an outlet, but soon realized you had no idea where the cups were. The sheer amount of cupboards was overwhelming and you had no idea where to start looking, never mind the embarrassment of rifling through the kitchen in front of Yoongi.

Opening up cabinets as quietly as possible was not the easiest task when you could so heavily feel Yoongi’s presence in the living room. The anxiety in your chest built as you couldn’t tell whether or not he was watching you struggle to find a single mug. Coming to another cabinet above you, you opened it, spotting a mug or two on the edge of the top shelf portion. Just your luck. You hadn’t spotted a step stool anywhere and you were far too embarrassed already to climb on top of the counter to reach it. Your arm stretched out as you stood on your toes, fingers grasping at the edge of the shelf before you felt warmth envelop your back.

Freezing in place, you quickly identified Yoongi behind you, evidently assisting you in reaching the mugs. He didn’t seem quite tall enough either, you deduced, because he lifted his heels slightly, pushing further into you. Your breath stuttered and you almost had to brace yourself against the counter, you hadn’t really been this close to him before. You could feel his warm breath against the top of your hair, making your nape break out into goosebumps.

His fingers finally curled around the handle of the mug and he set his feet fully on the ground, but not moving away from you. You turned to face him, steadying your hands by grasping the edge of the countertop and lifted your head to look at him.

“Um, thank you,” you stuttered, unable to make full eye contact, instead opting for looking straight at his ear. He was too close and you couldn’t handle it. His other hand rested on the countertop, just beside yours, and his face was only inches away. How were you supposed to focus? Your gaze only lowered further, making your head turn slightly away. There was a second or two of just silence.

“No problem,” he responded bluntly, moving away and placing the mug down on the other counter that sat in the middle of the kitchen. You let out a heavy breath, finally being able to breathe something in other than Yoongi’s subtle cologne. Resisting the urge to question his sudden close proximity, you instead opted for, “Would you like some as well?

Yoongi only raised an eyebrow and gestured towards the living room where his coffee mug sat waiting. Your mouth clamped shut and you stuttered a nod, “Right, well I’ll just, um, finish doing this.”

God, could you be any more awkward?

Yoongi simply nodded and walked back to the living room, leaving you in the kitchen with warm cheeks and many regrets. You went through the motions of filling the kettle and starting it, waiting for it to boil before pouring it into the mug. The warm water was at least comforting in the chilly atmosphere, despite having no flavor. You stood in the kitchen, unsure of where you should go. Should you join Yoongi in the living room or go back to your room? Or should you stay in the kitchen? Nothing in your life had prepared you for the social expectations in a situation like this.

You decided on your room, not wanting to spend more time in Yoongi’s presence after the embarrassing display in the kitchen. As you made your way to the stairs, walking past Yoongi’s form on the couch, he called out to you.

“Y/N, can you sit for a moment?”

You turned towards him and nervously nodded, taking a seat on the same loveseat as the night prior. It was quite comfortable even though you had been the epitome of uncomfortable each time you’d sat in it so far. You looked up at Yoongi, silently gesturing for him to continue.

“Some of my friends are coming over tonight, the same that made up my groomsmen. If you don’t mind, are you able to stay in your room?”

“Oh, sure,” you nodded, that was all? You were nervous for nothing.

“Thanks,” Yoongi almost smiled at you, “They’ll be here around seven.”

“Sounds good,” you said while standing up, you couldn’t get out of there quickly enough. In your rush to get back to your room, you didn’t notice Yoongi’s gaze lingering on your retreating form.

Closing your bedroom door behind you, you breathed a sigh of relief. What a day, and it wasn’t even noon yet. Adjusting to life with Yoongi was definitely going to be a learning curve.

Since you were off work for the next two weeks, you weren’t exactly sure what to do with your time. You couldn’t exactly relax in the living room and watch a movie, not with your husband occupying the couch. Things certainly felt stifled in Yoongi’s home. His presence was overwhelming and nerve-wracking, you couldn’t relax around him at all. The earlier interaction in the kitchen still weighed on your mind.

Why did he get so close to you? Wasn’t he the one who proposed that the two of you stay as far apart as possible? Maybe he didn’t see his closeness to you as something that went against that principle. You sighed. It felt impossible to read him or know what he was thinking at all. His impassive expressions and ambivalent demeanor were starting to get to you.

Even though you’d resolved to take on an emotionally removed approach like him, you still craved some sort of transparency in his confusing actions that stirred mixed emotions within you. Some of the things he was doing would point towards him harboring some sort of affection toward you but he had been so adamant in keeping your lives separated. What you needed was a clear message from him about how he felt and actions that aligned with that.

Not that you thought that was going to happen.

After setting your mug down on your bedside table, you collapsed onto the soft comforters of your bed. The ceiling above you was plain unlike the one in your apartment and you found yourself missing the nights of tracing along the popcorn pattern in your warm and comfy bed. Speaking of your apartment though, you thought, you should probably check in on how Hoseok’s doing.

You patted your hand around for your phone, finding it beside you, and dialed Hoseok’s number, setting it to speaker and letting the phone sit beside your head. It only rang twice before he answered.

“Well, hello Mrs. Min,” came his teasing voice.

You groaned, kicking your legs up in the air, “Shut up, don’t remind me.”

“Aren’t you living the dream, though? Married to your long-time crush?”

“Hardly,” you scoffed, recalling your husband’s cold and calculating exterior.

“Well, what’s up, how’s the first morning? Are you sore,” Hoseok questioned, you could hear him shuffling around, likely lying down on the bed himself.

“I guess? My calves are kind of sore, those heels fucking hurt after the first hour,” you responded, massaging your aching feet.

“No,” Hoseok laughed, “Are you sore from your consummation? Tell me how it was!”

“Gross,” you exclaimed, sitting up on the bed incredulously, “We did not have sex! I can barely look at him for fuck’s sake, how am I supposed to sleep with him?”

“That’s your fault for not taking advantage of the situation,” he hummed on the other end, “The opportunity was right there.”

“Dude, c’mon, he can barely stand me. We wouldn’t have been sleeping together even if I could look him in the eye.”

“You’ll get there,” Hoseok chimed optimistically, making you desperately want to change the subject.

“How’s your apartment hunting going,” you asked, grasping at any other topic you could.

“Smooth,” he laughed but acquiesced and answered your question, “Good, I think. I’ve got a couple of showings in a few days that seem promising. Rent here is way more expensive than Busan though.”

“Yeah,” you sighed, “Tell me about it. I don’t know how Yoongi affords this place.”

“He probably owns it.”

“Damn, you’re probably right. Should a peasant like me even be allowed in here,” you half-joked.

Hoseok only scoffed in response, “As if you’re not literally the daughter of chaebols.”

You hummed, nodding, “Touche.”

“Oh, I did talk to my old boss and he said there was an old student of his in Seoul who was also looking to open up a dance studio. Apparently, he’s just finishing up his MBA so I’m going to talk to him and see if he wants to become partners,” Hoseok excitedly detailed.

“That’s so cool! I’m sure he’ll say yes,” you responded happily. Hoseok deserved to succeed after how hard he’d worked and if this other guy knew anything, he’d say yes to Hoseok in a heartbeat.

“How is everything else,” Hoseok asked, prompting you to sigh.

“It’s fine, I guess,” you said tiredly, wondering if you should divulge what had happened during the wedding and this morning.

“Tell me about it,” he said quietly, encouraging you.

“Alright,” you huffed, settling in for the long haul of recounting the previous day and the conversation when you’d gotten to Yoongi’s penthouse. You finished by detailing the events this morning and the fact that his friends were coming over later.

Hoseok listened diligently, making sure to have the appropriate reactions at the right moments. When you finished retelling the events of that morning, Hoseok laughed, “How cliche. This really feels like your own movie romance.”

You shook your head, laughing along, “I guess it was pretty cliche. Everything feels so cliche with him, like the first time I’m falling in love as a teenager or something. It’s embarrassing.”

“It’s not embarrassing to like someone, Y/N,” Hoseok says, changing his tone to be a bit softer, “Having a crush isn’t all that immature, it’s the way you act on it that can be.”

“You’re surprisingly profound,” you joked, but you knew he had a point. You had been beating yourself up about feeling anything for Yoongi and feeling embarrassed whenever you became flustered. It felt childish and you hated feeling so vulnerable and disadvantaged.

“Well, I have my moments,” Hoseok chuckled, “But seriously, don’t be so hard on yourself. Let yourself feel and then choose how to deal with it. If that means moving on, then do that, slowly. And it’s okay if it means keeping the feelings, as long as you're not hurting yourself or anyone else.”

“Thanks, Hobi,” you smiled, he really did have his moments.

“Anytime, Y/N-ie,” Hoseok responded fondly, making you smile widen at the affectionate nickname.

“But I do have to go now. I’ve got some calls to make about my old apartment. They’re trying to keep my deposit,” he huffed.

“Yikes, good luck with that, let me know how it goes,” you give him a sweet goodbye before hanging up. The conversation with Hoseok had cleared your head some, leaving you wondering what your next move should be. You promptly decided on a nap.

After a few hours, you awoke, stretching in your bed, feeling slightly groggy, but well rested. Your head felt clearer than ever and you actually felt ready to live in this penthouse.

Sitting up, you took a look around your room before sighing. The beiges and whites were really starting to get to you. You dragged yourself out of your bed and towards your bag from the previous night. After digging around for a moment, you triumphantly located your laptop and its charger, plugging it into the outlet near your desk. Booting up your laptop only took a few moments but you occupied yourself by making a mental list of the decorations you wanted to purchase or bring from your own apartment. After logging in, you dejectedly realized you weren’t connected to the wifi.

You should’ve asked Mrs. Lim for the wifi password, you thought scornfully, why had you been so careless. Now you had to ask Yoongi. Your mission of avoiding him at all costs was going poorly.

Reaching for your phone, you opted instead to text him to minimize the interaction, feeling proud of your solution.

You:

Hi Yoongi-ssi, would you mind giving me the wifi password, please?

You quickly set your phone face down on the desk, dreading the reply. What if he thought you were an idiot? What if he didn’t give it to you and you had to use a hotspot for the rest of your life and spend hundreds on your data charges?

Your spiraling thoughts were interrupted by your phone vibrating against the desk’s surface.

Yoongi:

Sure. It’s worldwidehandsomesvacationhome. No capitals.

You let out a confused chuckle, what a weird name. You had a nagging feeling that Kim Seokjin had something to do with it.

You:

Thank you. Have fun with your friends.

You threw your phone against the desk and launched yourself into your bed. Was that too much? Oh god, what if you had royally messed up and crossed a boundary? You stayed in your bed for a few minutes before rising, noting that your phone hadn’t vibrated with a response. Hesitantly approaching your phone, you turned it over to see a blank screen with no notifications. You checked the message thread to see it the same as you left it except that you had been left on read.

Well, I guess there’s nothing I can do about that.

You shrugged and retook your seat at your desk, entering the wifi password on your laptop and phone. Finding a successful connection, you spent the next few hours browsing through online stores for fun decorations and decals for your room and office in the penthouse. The search took your full attention and you bought multiple items, saving a few of the more expensive purchases for other credit cycles. At the end of it all, you’d bought multiple pillows, a throw blanket, some cute decoration trinkets off of Etsy, a couple of cute flower lamps, a comfy-looking lounge chair, and some lilac curtains. Decorating your room in some fun colors and trinkets would make it feel more like home, or at least, that’s what you hoped.

Sitting on the desk next to your laptop was a small notebook that held a list of the items you planned to purchase, mainly a TV for your room so you could watch movies and use your console, a larger and cuter desk, and a comfier desk chair, as well as transferring a number of other items from your apartment like your plants, books, and other decorations.

Coming out of your reverie, you noticed that the time had passed quickly, being a little after seven, and your stomach grumbled, reminding you of your forgetting to eat lunch. Cooking in the kitchen wasn’t an option, noting the laughter downstairs likely meaning that Yoongi’s friends had arrived already, and you didn’t know what ingredients were there anyway, or if you were allowed to use them.

Sighing, you instead decided to order delivery. You browsed through the local restaurants before settling on a fried chicken restaurant that you frequented that had a location close to your apartment and another near Yoongi’s. Selecting your usual order, you almost checked out before realizing that you were about to order it to your apartment. Grinning, you imagined Hoseok opening your door to a crispy chicken delivery and having no second thoughts about eating your food.

You couldn’t remember Yoongi’s address, so you resorted to looking at your maps app to figure it out, and your previous texts with Mrs. Lim for the internal building directions. A rush of content flowed through you as you placed the order, eagerly awaiting your hearty meal.

To pass the time, you grabbed your Switch, loading in whatever game you had been playing previously, some indie puzzle game. You settled into the relaxing and cute gameplay and drowned out the noise of Yoongi’s friends further into the penthouse.

After a while, your phone vibrated with the notification that the delivery was here, and you jumped up, eager to receive your food. Quickly opening your door, you entered the hallway to make your way to the stairs before hesitating. You could hear Kim Seokjin’s signature laugh in the living room.

Oh, that’s right, Yoongi didn’t want you to come down.

You tittered around the banister, unsure of whether you should go down before you felt your phone buzz with the driver asking where you were.

Ah, fuck it.

You quickly descended the stairs and tried to discreetly go through the back end of the living room to avoid Yoongi’s group drinking and playing some sort of game on the coffee table. Of course, you were unsuccessful, spotted by Seokjin immediately.

“Yah, Seo Y/N,” he shouted, pointing at you, clearly quite drunk already.

You froze in place, turning toward him and sending him a shy wave.

“Why are you over there,” Seokjin slurred, “Come join us! You need to drink!”

You began shaking your head before you were interrupted.

“Noona!”

Jeongguk’s bright voice and wide smile brought a smile to your own face, and you mouthed a small hello in his direction.

“Come join us, noona, please,” Jeongguk pleaded, shooting lethal doe eyes in your direction. Your heart melted and you almost agreed, but you felt your phone buzz in your pocket again, making you restart your steps toward the door, “Sorry, Jeongguk-ah, I just came down to get my delivery.”

You ignored his and Seokjin’s protests to open the door and pay the driver, leaving an extra tip for the wait they endured, and taking the food.

“Woah, is that fried chicken,” you heard from over your shoulder, turning to see Jeongguk suddenly there, eyeing your takeout bag. You chuckled, nodding, before beginning your trek back to the stairs.

“C’mon Y/N-ah, join us, Yoongi doesn’t mind,” Seokjin attempted once more and you took the moment to search out his face. Yoongi was sitting in the loveseat you had earlier, eyes resting on you in an unreadable expression. Taehyung was on the floor where Jeongguk was previously and Namjoon was on the couch with Seokjin. Yoongi’s stern expression seemed out of place among the group of happy and buzzed faces and it only made you feel worse.

“Sorry, oppa, I think I’m just gonna head up. I’m kind of tired,” you responded, shying away from Jeongguk’s insistent touch and multiple attempts to snag a piece of chicken.

“You’re so boring, Y/N, you’ll need to join us soon enough, so why not now,” Seokjin slurred, body swinging to lean on the other end of the couch. Out of the corner of your eye, you noticed Yoongi open his mouth to say something but was beaten by Namjoon.

“Let her be, hyung, you can’t force her,” Namjoon smacked Seokjin’s shoulder before sending you a kind smile and gesturing towards the stairs.

You shot him a grateful smile before ascending, deliberately avoiding Yoongi’s icy stare. Seokjin’s cries faded into the background as you quickly climbed the stairs and reached your room.

Closing the door behind you, a sigh escaped your mouth. How stressful. You hoped that Yoongi wasn’t upset with you for interrupting, you were just quite hungry. You set the bag down on your desk, mouth salivating at the pleasant aroma. You could almost say the intense encounter was worth the heavenly bite of fried chicken you took.

The next week went by rather smoothly, mainly because you had barely seen Yoongi at all. He hadn’t come out of his room much the following day after his friends had come and then resumed work afterward with the week starting up once more. You relished the opportunity to set up your room and office in a style more akin to yours and filled the rooms with plants and flowers you adored.

Mrs. Lim had been happy to help you set up your rooms, citing boredom from the countless greys and blacks that Yoongi’s decor tended to lean towards. You had developed a close bond with her in the week since your arrival in the penthouse and she was a comforting presence in the face of Yoongi’s frosty exterior.

“Ms. Seo, I think your TV is here!”

You sat up from the intense building of your desk, wiping a line of sweat from your forehead. All of the moving around and lifting had you quite warm and you had changed into a loose crop top and shorts. While the work wasn’t necessarily difficult, it was tedious to do alone but you didn’t have much of a choice. You couldn’t ask Mrs. Lim with her bad back to crouch and bend to help you put it together, Joohee was going out to a work dinner with her colleagues, and Hoseok was off to another apartment showing. Unfortunately, you couldn’t figure out anyone else you could call on a Friday evening to help.

“Coming,” you shouted down to Mrs. Lim and rose to your feet, having to lean slightly against the wall. You took a glance at the TV stand you had already snagged second-hand from Joohee after she had decided to mount hers and confirmed it was in the spot you wanted. Heading down the stairs to the living room, you noted Mrs. Lim’s conflicted stance, hands on her hips.

“What’s wrong,” you questioned, rounding the corner of the couch to see the large box the TV had arrived in. The box was quite large and seemed to be rather heavy, which would make it extremely difficult to carry up the stairs by yourself. Immediately, you knew this was going to be an issue because you couldn’t ask Mrs. Lim for help. You’d managed thus far, with your desk arriving in multiple boxes that were more lightweight, your chair being fairly easy to drag up the stairs, and Joohee helping with the TV stand. Crossing your arms, you studied the box before wrapping your hands underneath to test the weight.

It lifted slightly, but you soon had to release it, the edge slipping from your fingers. There was no way you’d be able to get this up on your own.

“Don’t try it by yourself, dear,” Mrs. Lim soothed, “You’ll hurt your back and end up just like me.”

You chuckled, brushing the hair out of your face once again, “Yeah, at least one of us needs to be able to reach the bottom shelf in the kitchen.”

Mrs. Lim playfully smacked your shoulder, “What happened to respecting your elders? You’re quite warm though, would you like some cold water?”

You nodded appreciatively, “Yes, please. Thank you!”

Mrs. Lim waved you off as she walked into the kitchen. Turning towards the box, you huffed, staring it down. What should you do?

Suddenly, you heard the door unlock and it popped open, hitting the box in the process, stopping it from opening fully.

“Mrs. Lim,” came Yoongi’s voice, “Is there something in the doorway?”

“Oh, my bad,” you exclaimed, quickly bending to push the box out of the way. After you’d pushed it aside, you stood to greet Yoongi.

He was running a hand through his hair, staring at the box before his eyes trailed to you and up your legs to your face. You felt your cheeks heat before sending him a small bow and nod.

“What’s all this,” he questioned.

“I’m just getting some stuff for my room, sorry for all the trouble,” you wrung your hands together nervously.

Yoongi shook his head and opened his mouth, only to be interrupted by Mrs. Lim arriving with your water, “Oh, Mr. Min, you’re home!” Handing you the glass, she continued, “Ms. Seo was just trying to figure out how to bring this box up to her room. It’s much too big for just her to handle and I can’t help because of my back. So unfortunate, isn’t it?”

You cringed internally, taking a sip of water to give yourself something to do. Yoongi only nodded, looking at you once more before moving out of the doorway. He started towards the stairs, leaving you breathing out in relief and gulping down more water.

Just as he began climbing the steps to his room, he turned and faced your form, “Give me a couple minutes to change and I can help you bring that to your room.”

You almost choked on your water as you stumbled through a nod, surprised at Yoongi’s offer to help. He didn’t spare you another glance as he retreated to his room and you were left standing cluelessly as Mrs. Lim sent you a sly smile.

“Well, I’ll just leave you to it. Your dinner is already prepped, there’s japchae and banchan to cool you down. It’s just about time for me to head home anyway,” Mrs. Lim said, clapping her hands together and starting to untie her apron.

You pounced, stopping her hands from undoing the knot, “Mrs. Lim, maybe you can join us for dinner?” You were desperate in your attempt to not be left alone with Yoongi, looking up at Mrs. Lim with pleading eyes.

She only chuckled, gently removing your hands and finishing releasing the knot, her apron falling loose around her front, “Use this as an opportunity to get to know him better. I promise Mr. Min is a nice, young man.”

You almost scoffed, everyone seemed to be trying to convince you of that except for Yoongi himself.

Mrs. Lim put her apron away and gave your cheek a gentle pinch before opening the door, “Besides, I have a dinner date with Mr. Lim. Good luck!” She closed the door behind her and you were left wondering how to navigate the upcoming interaction. Yoongi didn’t give you much time to prepare, appearing at the top of the stairs only seconds after Mrs. Lim’s exit. He was now dressed in a casual grey t-shirt and black sweats, posing a stunning contrast to his earlier neat and tailored suit.

“Where did Mrs. Lim go,” he asked, starting his descent to the living room.

“Um, she left to go home. She said there was dinner already prepped and she had to have dinner with her husband,” you answered awkwardly, avoiding his intense gaze.

Yoongi simply nodded, “That’s fine. Shall we get started, then?”

You nodded, rushing to one end of the box as Yoongi took his place at the other.

“I’ll walk backward, so just let me know when I’ve gotten to the stairs,” he said, making you nod in response, finding it difficult to speak. You both lifted, the box becoming much easier to carry with two pairs of hands.

You kept your gaze firmly trained on the view behind Yoongi, refusing to make eye contact. You were nervous it’d make your grip slip. Warning Yoongi when you had reached the stairs, the rest of the trip had been fairly easy, quietly giving him directions to your room. Thankfully, your door was open and the two of you entered, setting the box down and breathing slightly heavily.

You looked up to express your gratitude to Yoongi but found him looking around your room instead. You supposed it would be his first time in here since you’d arrived. It had changed quite drastically since you had moved in, sporting much more color and silly accessories. Your bed now had a lilac comforter and a white throw blanket, along with multiple cute, fuzzy throw pillows in fun shapes like clouds or mushrooms. The lounge chair had been set up in the corner with a few other pillows and Pokemon plushes you already had. The lilac curtains you ordered had already been set up, currently open to let some light into the room. A few of your favorite tote bags sat hanging on a hook you’d stuck on by the entrance and there were small crocheted and artsy trinkets plastered or hung around the room. Taking a look around it now, for the first time, your aesthetic felt silly and childish in comparison to Yoongi’s sleek, grown-up look.

“Um,” you started, wanting to take Yoongi’s gaze off of your colorful and immature decorations, “Thank you for, ah, helping out.”

Yoongi’s head turned toward you, finding your worried face, biting your lip.

“No problem,” he responded, “I like your room.”

You looked up at him questioningly, not expecting such a response. You had assumed he would think of it as childish and express his distaste, or just ignore it altogether.

“It’s cute.”

You felt your lips part in surprise at his seemingly earnest reaction to your newly decorated room. It made you feel a bit guilty for assuming he wouldn’t like it before. Furthermore, describing it as ‘cute’ seemed so unlike him. You weren’t sure how to respond. Smiling awkwardly, you nodded, “Thanks, I’m glad you like it.”

You’re glad he likes it? What kind of response is that? You groaned internally, now it seemed like you were pining for his validation. Why couldn’t the ground just swallow you whole?

Yoongi hummed in response before dusting off his hands on his sweats, “Would you like to have dinner then?”

You looked at him in slight shock. The two of you hadn’t had a meal together since you’d moved in, yet here he was offering as if it was a normal occurrence for you.

“Unless you’re eating later,” Yoongi’s eyebrow raised at your delayed response.

Quickly, you shook your head, “No, no. I’d love to have dinner now.”

Way to sound over-eager.

The both of you made your way downstairs, unpacking the meal that Mrs. Lim had prepared for you. The cold noodles felt soothing to your overheating body and Mrs. Lim’s kimchi was the perfect balance of fresh and sour. She had even made cucumber kimchi, one of your favorites as she’d learned in the past week, which you happily devoured. While the food was delicious, the atmosphere surrounding the dinner table was awkward. The meal was largely silent, save for the sounds of eating and happy tummies. Distantly, you wondered which of the two of you was going to be the one to break the silence. Surprisingly, it turned out to be Yoongi.

“Were you told about the gala tomorrow evening?”

You nodded, your mother had called you a few days ago to notify you of it. That hadn’t been a fun phone call. She’d made sure to tell you exactly what she expected you to wear and how to act around Yoongi during the gala. You were just relieved that it started at eight, there was an art gallery that you had been wanting to check out that opened at three.

“We’ll go together, we’ll leave at 7:45, does that sound good,” Yoongi asked, glancing at his phone between bites of japchae. You only nodded, trying to map out your schedule for the next day so that you could go to the art gallery and still have enough time to get ready.

“Alright then, that’s settled,” Yoongi stated, taking his last bites of food.

“Oh, wait,” you interjected, remembering your conversation with your mother, “Do you have a dark blue tie?”

Yoongi’s eyebrow raised, “Yes, I believe so. Why?”

Your cheeks heated, “My mother wanted your tie to match my dress. Sorry.” It was quite embarrassing and your mother had not listened to reason. Apparently, she wanted to solidify the image of you two as a couple at this gala, despite the fact that the only people who matched dresses and ties were high school kids going to dances.

Yoongi nodded, picking up his phone and rising from the table, “That’s fine. I’ll be sure to wear that tie then.” With that, he exited the dining room and headed upstairs, with you catching a glimpse of him entering his upstairs office.

Sitting back in your chair, you groaned audibly. Could you get through a single day without making yourself look like a fool in front of Yoongi? You flailed slightly in a mini tantrum at the day’s events before gazing at your plate. Opting for more food, you shoveled it into your mouth in an attempt to soothe your aching ego. After finishing admittedly more than a couple of servings worth, you gathered both yours and Yoongi’s plates and put them in the dishwasher. You filled up your water bottle before climbing the stairs to your room.

You wanted nothing more than to collapse in your bed but your unfinished desk lying in pieces on the floor was weighing on you, in addition to the large TV box that sat inconveniently in the middle of your room. Sighing, you dropped down into a cross-legged position beside the mess of wooden planks and screws and continued putting together the desk, not looking forward to the long night ahead.

At least you had the gallery tomorrow to look forward to.

When you awoke the next morning, it was just past eleven. The bedsheets were crumpled around you and your hair was a tangled mess, but your desk and TV were set up prettily. You must’ve worked late into the night because you didn’t remember getting into bed, much less finishing the desk or setting up the TV. You still had to attach your console and Blu-ray player anyway.

Blearily, you pulled yourself out of bed, stumbling down the stairs and into the kitchen for a cup of tea. Your eyes were barely open so you didn’t notice the way your cropped shirt had slipped down your shoulder with its wide neck, nor Yoongi sitting on the couch with a coffee mug in his hand. You squinted through the cupboard to find your favorite mug and picked it out, grabbing the lavender-infused tea that was a regular of yours before setting the kettle to boil. As you waited for the water to boil, you rubbed your eyes awake, finally noticing Yoongi staring at you from the couch.

“Oh, I’m sorry,” you bowed slightly, “I didn’t see you there. Good morning.”

Yoongi only nodded, raising his coffee mug to you before returning his gaze to his phone. You were still too tired to feel much embarrassment so you only shrugged and turned back to the kettle. Surprisingly, Yoongi wasn’t done interacting with you, startling you to face him.

“Do you have any plans for before the gala?”

“Yes, I’m going to an art show nearby. But I’ll be back in time to get ready,” you rushed to answer.

Yoongi took a sip of his coffee, his eyebrows raised and eyes staring into you from behind the rim of the cup.

“Oh, sorry, I would ask you to come along but it’s a ticketed event and they’re sold out,” you stuttered, figuring that was why he was still looking at you questioningly.

Yoongi set his mug down, eyes flickering over your form, “I wasn’t planning on going anyway.”

“Ah, right,” you awkwardly said, internally scolding yourself for the embarrassing display.

Of course, he wasn’t asking to go with you, how dense could you be?

Your body felt hot with humiliation and you willed the water to boil faster. Somehow, the gods answered you and the kettle went off, making you rush to pour out the water into your mug. You opted to let it steep in your room, ready to get out of the shared space where Yoongi’s judgemental gaze lay.

Nodding a quick goodbye, you rushed up the steps and entered the oasis of your room. You set down your mug on your desk, letting it steep, and entered your closet to pick out an outfit for the gallery. You ended up choosing a short, brown, corduroy dress to layer over a collared white blouse, feeling quite cute in the outfit. You set the clothes aside, sitting down to drink your tea while reading a bit more of the fantasy book you’d recently picked up. You had made sure to note down your wide collection of books to be part of the things you brought from your apartment. You hadn’t managed to fit everything, but you had brought a significant portion of your favorites and ones you were currently reading.

Once you finished your tea, you set your book aside and began to ready yourself for a shower. After brushing through your hair and grabbing some undergarments, you entered the shower, making sure to take your time and shave for both your dress now and later tonight. The shower was warm and soothing, relaxing your body underneath the steaming stream of water.

After exiting, you did your normal post-shower routine of moisturizing, making sure to add a little extra care to your face. Not for any reason, in particular, you told yourself, just to feel a little pretty. After finishing, you donned your dress and blouse, adding shorts underneath just in case, and began styling your hair. It didn’t need too much as you decided to leave it open, parting it slightly to one side and ruffling it a bit to give it some volume. You finished off with some light makeup and simple gold jewelry, satisfied with your final look. You didn’t get dressed up too often, but you liked doing it for events like galleries, partly for the pictures but mostly just to feel cute.

You snapped a quick picture of your finished look in the mirror in your closet and sent it to the group chat you had with Joohee and Hoseok.

To: Milf Club (est. 2014)

You:

image attached

art gallery fit 💪

Hoebi:

you look like my wife

*future wife

Joo-nie:

omgg step on me queen

so when are you attending the met gala 🤨

You:

omfg it’s just a dress you guys

also i better see you at the gala tonight joo

bring hobi as your date

Joo-nie:

ew no

you can bring him as yours tho

You:

i have a literal husband who’s my date

Hoebi:

girls girls, don’t fight there’s enough hobi to go around

Joo-nie:

die

You:

nevermind, you can stay home

Hoebi:

you guys are so mean 😭

i was planning on touring a potential studio space anyway so go have fun being rich

Joo-nie:

omg good luck! let us know how it goes!

You:

yes def do

i’ll see you tonight joo

Glancing at your watch, you noted the time being around 2:30. It gave you enough time to stop by a cafe by the art gallery to grab a snack since you hadn’t eaten yet. You opted for your crocheted tote bag, not really caring about it making the look more casual, and stuffed your phone, wallet, and a small water bottle inside. You were planning on walking to the gallery so you didn’t need to bring your keys. Lastly, you pulled on some socks and headed downstairs.

Yoongi was still sitting on the couch and you felt his eyes follow your form walking to the door. As you slipped on your shoes, he called out to you, “Going to the gallery?”

You nodded, “Yeah, I’ll be back in a couple of hours.”

Yoongi nodded in response, still looking at you, “You, uh,”

You stood fully, finished with your shoes, and looked at him to continue.

“See you then,” he finished, leaving you slightly confused at his odd demeanor but smiling politely nonetheless. Just as you opened the door and began to exit, you heard his voice once more.

“Have fun.”

You turned to face him, sending him a genuine smile, “Thanks, I will! See you tonight.”

With that, you closed the door behind you and headed to the small cafe near the gallery. The walk was pleasant with warm weather that wasn’t too hot and a slight breeze to cool you. Soon, you reached the cafe, a cute and quaint spot that had been around for around ten years at that point. You visited often with Joohee on Saturday afternoons when the two of you had plans later in the day.

You opened the door, it jingling in response to your arrival, and the employee at the counter looked up. The one working that morning was Daehwa, a college student who had been working there for a couple of years now. He knew your order well and often engaged you in conversation if the cafe was empty. There was a bit of a crowd today so he quickly entered your order without you having to say anything, and began making it while you waited off to the side. Once he presented you with your iced tea and croissant with a wink, you sent him a grateful smile, and quickly tore through the croissant, noting the time getting closer to three.

You finished your snack in record time and quickly stood, clearing away your space and waving a quick goodbye to Daehwa, who sent you a grin in response. The gallery was just across the street and had a small line outside, which you quickly joined. You sipped the last of your tea, looking around for a trashcan near you so you didn’t have to bring it inside the gallery, but only saw one close to the entrance which meant you’d lose your spot in line. The idea made you frown and you considered keeping the empty cup in your bag until you moved forward in the line.

“Seo Y/N?”

You turned at the mention of your name to find Kim Namjoon standing behind you in a light brown sweater and collared white shirt underneath, with a darker brown corduroy blazer and khakis. He had round, wiry glasses on and wore a stunning smile that showed off his deep dimples.

“Oh, Namjoon-ssi, I didn’t realize you’d be attending this as well,” you said, smiling and bowing politely.

“Yeah, I’ve been following this artist for a while now and saw a couple of months ago that they were doing an exhibition. Do you like Cha Heewon too,” he asked, putting his hands into his pockets. His kind gaze on you and sweet smile made your cheeks feel warm as you tucked a piece of hair behind your ear.

“Yeah, I’ve been following them for a few years now so I was really excited when I saw the location for this show. I was lucky to get tickets, they sold out so fast!”

“I know, right? I was basically refreshing the page the day they opened up trying to be the first one in,” Namjoon chuckled and his baritone voice reverberated through your bones, almost making you sigh.

“Yeah, but at least we’re here now,” you smiled, about to turn back around.

“Would you, uh, like to walk around the exhibit together,” Namjoon asked, scratching the back of his head.

You hesitated for a moment, wondering if this would be crossing a line with Yoongi, but you steeled yourself. He wasn’t allowed to dictate who you became friends with. You clearly bumped into Namjooon by coincidence and have a shared interest, so why wouldn’t you two walk around together?

“I’d love to,” you responded, feeling proud of your steadfastness in not letting Yoongi mandate your choices or social interactions.

Namjoon smiled widely in response, nodding, “Great, none of the other guys want to come with me to these kinds of things. Sometimes, Tae does but he’s super flaky.”

You chuckled, “Same here, Joo always complains about how boring it is and Hobi wasn’t even here, but he wouldn’t enjoy it either.”

“Hobi, that’s Hoseok, right? The one who worked in Busan,” Namjoon recalled, scratching his chin.

“Yes,” you nodded, “He’s planning on moving back here so he’s all busy trying to get that sorted.”

“Well, maybe we can go to these things together in the future,” Namjoon proposed, smiling down at you.

You felt your cheeks heat, being around handsome men wasn’t good for your health. You looked up at Namjoon, smiling in response, “I’d really like that, Namjoon-ssi.”

Namjoon cringed, his mouth turning up into a frown, “You can drop the formality, we’re the same age, right?”

You nodded, laughing slightly, “I guess I’m just used to it. I’d really like that, Namjoon-ah,” you emphasized. Namjoon chuckled, turning away for a moment. You could’ve sworn you saw his ears go pink at the edge.

The line moved forward fairly quickly and the two of you were soon inside the exhibit, with you throwing away your cup at the entrance. Namjoon gave thoughtful commentary on each painting you stopped at, with you providing your thoughts as well. You found yourself quickly becoming comfortable in his presence and the two of you were soon joking around and making very pleasant conversation.

At one point, an older woman stopped the two of you, stating, “You’re such a cute couple, I love your matching outfits. I hope you’re having a fun date!”

The woman walked off before you or Namjoon could correct her, so you ended up trying to laugh off the encounter. Her words made your cheeks burn and you worried that it had offended Namjoon, especially considering that Yoongi was his friend. If it bothered Namjoon, he didn’t show it, instead carrying on like nothing had happened.

Namjoon’s company was quite enjoyable and you relaxed into his smooth voice, feeling yourself becoming less and less stiff. The conversation flowed easily and you both bonded over your love for art, with Namjoon mentioning other artists that you noted down to look up later. He seemed much more experienced in this area than you and you found yourself enraptured by his explanations and passionate rants.

A couple of hours passed and the two of you exited, with Namjoon insisting on walking you to Yoongi’s building. Your conversation from inside the gallery continued as you walked, and you found yourself not wanting to return to Yoongi’s apartment in favor of Namjoon’s calming presence.

“I noticed you weren’t wearing your ring,” Namjoon mentioned, making you stumble in your step.

You glanced down at your hand before scratching the back of your head embarrassedly, “Yeah, I guess I’m still getting used to it. It’s kind of weird, being married that is.”

“Yeah, I get that,” Namjoon smiled reassuringly, “I’m sure Yoongi hasn’t been the most receptive either.”

“Understatement of the year,” you laughed, a tinge of annoyance present in your tone, “He’s so hard to read.”

“He’s like that with most people. He takes some time to open up. I promise he’s a really great guy once you get to know him, he’s just a bit uncomfortable in the situation. He’ll warm up to you, eventually,” Namjoon said, patting your shoulder.

“Eventually,” you repeated, twisting your hand around your ring finger. You should really put it on.

You had reached Yoongi’s building at this point and had stopped just outside the doors. Namjoon must’ve noticed your solemn mood because he added one last thing before leaving, “You know, as much as Yoongi’s dragged his feet throughout this whole marriage process, I haven’t seen him without his ring once since the wedding.”

You looked up at Namjoon, lips slightly parted at the surprising statement. Namjoon only winked before turning around, “I’ll see you at the gala tonight, Y/N.”

Nodding mutely, you waved, before entering into the building and taking the elevator up to Yoongi’s floor. You weren’t really sure what to make of Namjoon’s words.

Adding the final touches to your look felt simple enough, you’d dressed for these types of galas before. The dark blue satin dress felt nice against your skin and the cowl neck flattered your bodice and neckline. You chose a thin necklace that dipped into your cleavage with matching earrings, deciding to keep your hair down to avoid having to style it. After donning your “rich people” watch, as Hoseok had dubbed it due to its stark contrast to your usual digital watch, you felt that your look was complete. Taking one last look in your mirror, you scrutinized yourself, trying to find anything that would make you seem undeserving of Yoongi.

It wasn’t a train of thought you were comfortable with, but your mother had made sure to emphasize its importance. You needed to look like someone worthy of being at Yoongi’s side. You certainly didn’t feel like it, but your mother didn’t really care about that. Just like in everything else, the outward appearance and how you were perceived by others took the utmost importance.

Your reflection stared back at you, solemn and lonely. You had tried to hide your tiredness with makeup, but you still felt that you could see the exhaustion in your face. You felt drained.

Everything was tiring.

You didn’t have time to wallow in self-pity, though. After tapping your cheeks lightly to give yourself some encouragement, you headed for your door. You were just about to open it, catching a glimpse of your hand encasing the doorknob, feeling that your finger looked empty.

You considered for a moment whether you should really display your relationship or not, but Namjoon’s words circled inside your head. Shaking them off, you turned around, grabbing your wedding band off your desk, and slipping it on. You did say that you should wear it more regularly, you told yourself.

You headed down the stairs, catching sight of Yoongi in his regular suit with a dark blue tie that was similar enough to the shade of your dress. He looked stunning with his dark hair combed back and suit fitted to his slender waist. Your eyes trailed up his form, appreciating his full visual before reaching his face, who was looking at you with wide eyes.

Suddenly, you felt embarrassed, maybe you had tried a bit too hard. A nauseous feeling began building up in your stomach as you descended the staircase, feeling heavily self-conscious of your appearance. Did you try too hard? Not enough? Did you look ridiculous? You bit the inside of your cheek, not wanting to mess up your lipstick, maybe you should’ve tried for a different dress. The sickly feeling grew as you approached Yoongi at the door, avoiding making eye contact. You didn’t have time to change now, but you sure wished that you had a large coat to cover yourself.

You really didn’t want to go to this gala.

As you finished slipping on your heels, clutching at your stomach to push away the ill sensation, you stood fully, facing the door. Yoongi hesitated for a moment in front of you before opening it and leading you to the elevator. The ride down to the garage was silent, save for Yoongi shifting about in his suit. You wondered if he was as uncomfortable as you, but quickly pushed the thought away. He had no reason to be uncomfortable.

The drive over to the banquet hall was equally silent, with the only words being exchanged between Yoongi and the driver who was waiting in the garage. Your fingers were constantly picking at invisible seams in your lap and your eyes stayed trained on the window beside you, trying your hardest not to think about Yoongi on your other side.

He hadn’t said anything to you since you left the house, but you swore you could feel his eyes on you, which only made you more anxious. You had to continuously wipe your palms against the leather seats of the car and your dress to wipe off the sweat and his stare dug into you every time. Every few minutes or so, you’d consider trying to strike up conversation with him before thinking better of it, not wanting to face a judgemental or disgusted expression if he wore it.

After what felt like forever, you finally arrived at the building the gala was being held at, the driver politely informing you that he would be back to pick you up at your request. Yoongi exited first due to you having to adjust your dress so you could exit gracefully, and he surprised you by opening your door and offering his hand for extra balance.

The action made your cheeks heat before you remembered that you were in a public place now and he had to act the part of your husband. Reality crashed down on you, washing over you in a wave of bleakness, but you plastered on a submissive smile all the same. You took his hand, exiting the car, noticing Yoongi staring at your finger. You were about to question him before his gaze turned to you and his mouth formed a small smile.

“You look beautiful,” he said, quietly, much too quiet for anyone around you to hear. The words sent warmth straight to your face and leave you stuttering out a ‘thank you’. Yoongi didn’t release your hand as you walked into the banquet hall, nodding your greetings at the guests you see first. Your mother spotted you immediately and waved you over, with you and Yoongi obediently following.

“Good to see you could make it,” your mother said curtly, surveying your outfit. She only turned away afterwards, so you took that as your approval and discreetly tugged on Yoongi’s hand so you could move on. He got the hint, thankfully, and led you through the other standard greetings and pleasantries that were involved in events like these.

The questions were repetitive, to say the least.

“How are you two doing as a newly wedded couple?”

“How’s the business, Yoongi?”

“When are you two thinking of having kids?”

“Are you still working for that game company?”

It was exhausting, but Yoongi’s warm hand grasping your own grounded you. After about an hour, you’d made the rounds throughout the hall and Yoongi still hadn’t let go of you. But you weren’t complaining. A few times, you were offered champagne by a passing server, but you refused each time. Yoongi’s musky cologne was intoxicating enough.

Finally, you reached a point where you could relax, no longer having any old men or women to dish out backhanded compliments and you having to awkwardly laugh through them. Yoongi seemed to also feel the tension release, noticing his shoulders sag slightly and a deep breath exhale from his lips. He released your hand, making you frown, feeling like your palm was empty now, but you couldn’t protest aloud.

You figured that was the end of Yoongi’s image maintenance regarding your matrimony but his hand slid down the open back of your dress, erecting goosebumps in its wake. His fingers rested at the small of your back, gently guiding you to the group where Kim Seokjin, Kim Namjoon and Joohee stood talking. It rendered you speechless and you opted for silently following, with your brain working overtime to understand what was going on.

You arrived at the group, Joohee immediately sending a look regarding the placement of Yoongi’s hands, but you were unable to respond, still too flustered by the warm of his skin against your back. You bowed mutely in greeting to the rest of the people there, smiling at Namjoon who returned it widely.

“Where’s Yeonhee noona,” Yoongi asked, the mention of Seokjin’s wife pulling you into the conversation.

“She’s at home with Hwannie,” Seokjin responded, smiling brightly at the mention of his wife and son. Yeonhee had given birth a few months ago to a beautiful baby boy, Hwansoo, and Seokjin hadn’t really shut up about him since. You’d seen Yeonhee at your wedding and she’d looked equally as elated, practically glowing. “I wanted to stay back too, but she mentioned something about wanting me out of the house for quality time with Hwannie,” Seokjin finished, earning a laugh from the group.

Joohee was trying to silently communicate with you, asking whatever she could through shifts in her eyes and small head movements about your close proximity to Yoongi, but you had no answers. You hadn’t been expecting it either, Yoongi had taken the initiative to make physical contact. You could tell she was getting frustrated with your continued subtle shrugs before she looked behind you and cringed.

“Great, mom wants me to go over there, probably for another marriage talk,” Joohee groaned, inching behind her brother to avoid her mother’s piercing gaze, “I think that’s Lee Hyunsoo, too! Gross! He’s an ass.”

You frowned at the mention of Hyunsoo, a common figure among those who belittled you in your youth at parties just like these. You felt Yoongi shift beside you before speaking, “Yeah, he is an ass, he kept making weird comments to me throughout the reception last week. Good luck with that.”

Yoongi’s comment only made you frown further. You hadn’t really noticed Hyunsoo during your reception, much less him talking to Yoongi. You couldn’t think on it for long, though, having to wave a solemn goodbye to Joohee who began her trek over to her beckoning mother. Yoongi continued his conversation with Seokjin, talking about some sort of business thing happening, nothing you cared too much about, and you were left staring blankly around you.

“You look really pretty,” Namjoon said, drawing your attention, making you blush pink at his words.

“Thanks, so do you, Namjoon-ah,” you teased in response, making him grin and show off his deep dimples. You instantly relaxed in his comforting presence, but you were still aware of Yoongi’s burning palm against your skin.

“Oh, I meant to mention earlier today, you said you like plants, right? There’s this great plant shop in Samcheong-Dong that you should check out,” Namjoon began excitedly, making you recall your earlier conversation in which you had mentioned your plants at your apartment in passing.

“We should totally check it out! I’m always down to get more plants, although I probably shouldn’t,” you joked, letting yourself ease into the easy conversation.

“You can never have enough, or at least, that’s what I tell myself,” Namjoon chuckled, “There’s also another show next month for one of my favorite artists. Do you think you’d be up to check it out?”

You nodded, “Yeah, of course, I’d love to. Just send me the details.”

“I don’t think I actually got your number earlier,” Namjoon mentioned, scratching the back of his head and outstretching his hand holding his phone.

“Oh, right, that would probably help,” you smiled, taking it and entering your number. You handed it back to him, smiling, but noticed the troubled expression on his fact, looking just beside you.

Yoongi had stiffened next to you and you had been so absorbed in your conversation with Namjoon that you hadn’t noticed, or noticed the fact that Seokjin was gone now, talking to some other old businessman at another table.

“Have you two gotten close,” Yoongi asked, though he didn’t really sound like he was looking for an answer, with gritted teeth and his hand pushing into your back.

“Oh, um, we met at the art show earlier,” you said, looking at Namjoon to continue your thought.

“Ah, yeah, we ended up walking around together and we became friends,” Namjoon laughed, though it seemed a little stilted, “Your wife’s really nice, hyung.”

“Thanks,” Yoongi said curtly, before releasing you and stepping away, “I have to go speak to a couple other people. Could you keep an eye on her, Namjoon?”

The question made you gawk, feeling anger rise from your trembling fingers. You didn’t need someone to keep an eye on you, you were a grown woman, for God’s sake. You moved to retort Yoongi’s absurd request but he was already walking away. What even was that? Why was he being so weird? Maybe his niceness earlier was just a fluke. Turning to Namjoon in a huff, you took in his sheepish smile.

“I don’t really think you need babysitting, but I would like to talk more,” he offered kindly, making you release a breath and smile in return.

“Yeah, that sounds nice,” you agreed, following him to a nearby table where you spent the rest of the evening. The conversation was pleasant, almost making you forget Yoongi’s odd behavior, but your anger for him had only simmered. He had no right to act like you weren’t your own agent, no right to treat you like a child. His earlier pleasant interactions with you and electric contact against your back left you even more confused, only adding to your anger. His moodswings were beginning to give you whiplash.

You tried your best to focus in on your conversation with Namjoon for the rest of the night but you found your gaze drifting back to Yoongi. He was speaking with other men your father’s age, shaking hands and exchanging practiced polite smiles. He looked tired.

But what did you care? You shouldn’t care, he had been so rude earlier, but you knew you couldn’t help it. Maybe you’d ask Mrs. Lim to make his favorite meal on Monday when she came back.

The rest of the evening carried on uneventfully, with you and Namjoon making countless plans for shopping outings and art shows galore. He’d even managed to score tickets to an evening historical art museum tour, something you’d been wanting to attend for a while. Eventually, he had to leave, though, citing an early morning the next day, and hugged you goodbye. As he was doing so, he whispered in your ear, “I saw you put on the ring, I’m glad.”

His hot breath on your ear made your brain stutter but you mumbled out an acknowledgement, and he soon released you, waving goodbye as he walked toward the exit. The rest of the attendees were beginning to leave too, signalling the beginning of the end of the night. You sat glumly at your table, noting that Joohee had already left, having had a quiet argument with her mother that caused her to storm out.

You brought out your phone, making sure to message her asking if she was alright. Feeling a tap on your shoulder, you looked up to see Yoongi staring down on you with an impassive expression.

“Are you ready to go?”

You neglected to respond, still feeling upset with his earlier words, and simply stood, waiting to be led to the car. Yoongi obliged, not flinching at your cold demeanor, and you both soon entered the car, riding home in silence.

During the drive home, your mind swirled with all sorts of questions regarding Yoongi’s behavior. His actions would likely point to jealousy surrounding Namjoon, but how did that make any sense? How could Yoongi harbor affection for you if he barely knew you? Especially if he seemed so opposed to the idea as well.

You like Yoongi even though you barely know him.

Your mouth upturned at the unwelcome thought. That wasn’t a fair comparison, you didn’t outwardly show any jealousy toward Yoongi’s other conquests. And there wasn’t even anything between you and Namjoon to begin with.

Well, mostly. You couldn’t deny the excitement you had when you saw him in the hall or the way you enjoyed speaking with him about everything and nothing throughout the art show and gala. But you weren’t going to think about that too hard right now.

The only logical conclusion you could draw was that your close friendship with Namjoon made him uncomfortable. He did say that he didn’t want you to mix personal lives at all. You almost empathized with that before remembering his condescending words earlier that evening, making anger surge through your blood once more.

Well, Yoongi could suck it. He didn’t get to dictate who you became friends with and he didn’t have any claim over his own friends, making them off-limits. You weren’t responsible for dealing with his childish feelings and immature attitude. That was all up to him.

It’s his problem to figure out why he’s acting so bizarrely.

Why was Yoongi acting so bizarrely?

He couldn’t understand. Why did he feel so possessive over you? It’s not like he felt any romantic attraction, he was the one to set the open relationship boundary after all. Why did it bother him so much that you were evidently so close to Namjoon now?

He breathed out a sigh, sitting idly in his studio upstairs, tired from the gala. Namjoon was one of his closest friends, they made music they’d never release together. He shouldn’t be upset that you’re becoming friends with him. He knew this rationally, but why did it still make him so uncomfortable?

As Yoongi leaned back in his chair, head upturned to the ceiling and eyes closed, his mind wandered to the few times he’d seen you in his home since the wedding. The morning after, you’d looked stunning, coming downstairs in nothing but the same shirt and shorts he’d seen you in the night prior, the cold air making him realize you weren’t wearing a bra. He’d averted his eyes at that point, feeling like he was encroaching on your privacy, even though you were in his kitchen.

Watching you realize your own attire and scramble upstairs to change had been cute, but Yoongi hadn’t wanted to entertain that thought. Either way, it was quickly replaced by the way your body felt against his as he reached above you for a mug. He couldn’t erase the sensation of your soft curves against his front from his mind.

When he’d arrived home in the middle of you redecorating, he wasn’t sure why he’d offered his help. Maybe he wanted to get a glimpse into your room, grasping at a chance to see your personality transferred to the decorations adorning your bedroom walls. He’d been surprised by how much he’d liked the cutesy embellishments you’d added, finding that the surprising duality suited you. You were so often carefully neutral in your expressions and words and seeing your personal taste being so pretty and pleasant was charming.

Later that night, he was surprised to see your bedroom light still on at the late hour when he’d left his room to get water. He peeked inside, seeing you lying on the floor in a mess of bolts, evidently trying to finish the last plank on your desk that was set up against the wall. The sight of you spread out so comfortably on the floor, hair strewn around your head almost framing your face like a halo, and your mouth partially open, letting out soft snores made him smile. He entered your room as quietly as he could, gently lifting you onto your bed and tucking you in, not even stirring you in your deep sleep.

He was about to leave when he stepped on a screw, making him flinch and look at the mess of things still left to do. If he’d finished up your desk and set up your TV, it was because he couldn’t stand a mess, not for any other reason. Not that you seemed to know based on your demeanor the next morning.

You’d looked adorable, coming down the stairs in rumpled clothing and tangled hair, your shirt’s neck slipping down your shoulder. But, he’d kept that thought to himself, behind pursed lips. You’d looked equally as beautiful in your cute brown dress that you’d worn to the art show, making him frown at his memory of being unable to tell you so.

Well, why should he? He’d been the one to separate you two so blatantly, after all. He shouldn’t give you mixed signals.

The thoughts of you in your loose and tight clothing, the image of you coming down the stairs in the silk dress that draped perfectly over your curves, and the tantalizing feeling of your skip against his palm had him leaning further back into his chair.

Maybe he was just horny.

Yoongi sat up, all of a sudden. That was totally it! He’s just distracted by you because he hasn’t been laid in a while. That had to be it. It couldn’t be anything else, he wouldn’t allow it to be.

Yoongi grinned, an easy smile taking over his face. Why was he so worried, the answer had been so simple. All he had to do was find a quick one night stand and his problems would be solved.

His grin faltered. Probably, his problems would probably be solved. He didn’t want to consider what it meant if they weren’t.

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selarina · 8 months

Text

The phone rings. Once. Twice. Thrice… and Gojo Satoru found himself contemplating hanging up, yet just as the thought formed, you answered, on the sixth ring.

"Hello," your voice emerged painfully neutral.

He couldn’t tell if now’s a good time. He hears some background music, akin to the subdued chatter of a small crowd, as though you were in a café of some sort. He thinks, no— he knows this a bad idea, but the words tumble out of his mouth anyway. “Hey, it’s me Gojo Satoru.”

"Yes, I know, Satoru," you replied with tint of slight irritation

You didn’t delete his number. At least this is a hopeful start.

“Happy birthday,” he said. “I know I'm a few hours late. I'm sorry.”

"Thanks... you don't have to apologise," you replied, your tone truly void of any accusation. Right, he thinks, it’s not his place.

“I know, but I still feel sorry,” he confesses. “I feel bad.”

“Okay,” you respond flatly, and there’s a pause that extends into almost a minute of full silence before you speak up again, “Is that what you called me for? To wish me?”

“Yes,” he says.

“Okay,” you say, letting a pause mull over you. “I’ll get going then. It was nice talking to you.” you say.

“I— I forgot your birthday. I only remembered it a few minutes before,” he adds, his words flowing out a bit hastily just in case you cut the call on him,l. It would pull the plug on him forever, leaving him breathing heavy and heavy until he’s left alone to drift away in the dark.

"Uh, okay," you responded, sounding confused.

"I mean, I hated that," he continued, his words flowing in an anxious succession. "I hated seeing you become this... this person I used to know. Whose birthday I couldn't even remember. I used to be the first to wish you, every day for years. Do you remember that?” he asks. “I miss that."

“Yeah, I remember," you murmur softly. You remember it. But in your recollection, what emotions dwell? Do you remember it with a sense of fondness? Do you remember it with sadness? Or did you remember it as a cautionary tale? He couldn’t tell.

“I miss that,” he repeats because his words are limited and he’s scared of saying anything more but he’s more scared of saying nothing ever again.

A beat passes by, and he stays still in his seat, holding his breath for nothing in particular.

“Me too,” your voice comes out. It doesn’t sound like a confession, it’s the one thing he liked about you — how your confessions came out of your mouth like indisputable facts. I like your smile. I like your eyes. I like you. I love you. These sentences didn’t seem like a confession; you would say it and he would know for it to be as true as the moon in the sky.

He smiles, “How did you celebrate?”

You sighed, "Not much. Dinner with the family, drinks with some friends, and now I'm heading back home."

"It's only 11 pm," he chuckled, as though he wouldn't be in bed by 9 himself.

“Yeah," you chuckled in return. "Guess some things have changed."

“Not really, you were still a bit of a grandma back then,” he teased.

“I was not!” you protested. You were not.

"There's no shame in that," he reassured, well loving and accepting of your homebody nature.

“There’s an hour left,” you say all too suddenly, interjecting him into a pause.

“An hour?" he spoke up, puzzled.

"Of my birthday," you clarified.

"Right," he responded, uncertain where this was leading.

“Well, you can always make it up to me.”

“Make what up?” he asked.

“Not wishing me,” you specified. “There's still another hour left.”

A smile crept onto Gojo's face, and he was already reaching for his car keys as swiftly as your words had emerged from your lips.

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rogueddie · 9 months

Text

Eddie slams his pile of books down on the counter, grinning at how hard Steve startles.

"Jesus, fuck," Steve holds a hand to his chest, glaring. "Man, come on, I'm too young to die of a heart attack."

"Are you sure about that?" Eddie reaches over, to tug at his hair- Steve bats his hand away before he can get near. "What are you now, seventy?"

"I'll have you know that the silver only adds to my charm."

"Sure, keep telling yourself that." He pats the pile of books. "I need to check all of these out."

"You know the limit."

"Please? Pretty please? I'll never insult you for going grey early ever again! Promise!"

"You've made that promise before," Steve grumbles, but starts to check the books out anyway. "What's all of this for anyway? New campaign or something?"

"Nah. Robin mentioned something about the cold war and nuclear shit. Got me curious."

Steve pointedly looks at the books, snorting. "Curious."

"What, you've never wanted to learn some new thing or something?"

"Not this much."

"What about all those sports you played?"

"That was more to do with my parents than me actually wanting to do it."

Eddies eyes narrow because... yeah. Outside of his old King Steve days, Eddie doesn't think Steve has ever wanted something. Not even for his birthday, or Christmas.

All he asks is for them to come to his and Robins flat. All he seems to want is confirmation that they're ok and alive.

"You always say you want kids though, right?"

"I mean, kind of. Though, I'm starting to think the brats we babysat might be more than enough for me."

"Chocolate?"

"Oh no..."

"What?"

"You're planning something, aren't you?"

"No! No, no, no... but there has to be something, right?"

"Something?"

"That you really want."

"There's nothing I need."

"That's not what I'm asking."

"That's all the answer you're getting." Steve shoves the pile of books towards him. "Get lost, I'm supposed to be working."

"Ugh, fine, you're no fun."

But he can't stop thinking about it. He ends up returning the pile of books, despite the fact that he barely read one page. When he tries to use it to question Steve, he dodges the question again.

He very quickly gives up, deciding to pester Robin until she tells him. That takes three weeks of constant, daily efforts. And, in the end, the answer is obvious.

Steve just wants to spend more time with people he cares about.

It's not easy to gather anyone in the party, given that there's no holiday or significant occasion- he manages it, though. All the kids, now young adults, organize transportation. Nancy and Jonathan, over the phone, help Eddie and Robin plan out where everyone will sleep with their small apartments.

The effort, and pain of organizing it all, is worth it for the look on Steves face when he comes home to find them all waiting for him.

When Dustin almost knocks him over with how harm he hugs him, for a second, Eddie is worried that he's going to start crying. But he holds it together, greets them all with so much enthusiasm...

"I forgot that he used to be like this," Robin comments, late into the night. They're sat a little away from the group, watching them argue over their games. "The kids mean a lot to him."

"He means a lot to them."

"I know. I think he forgets though, so... thank you."

Steve doesn't corner him until they've got the kids asleep- half of them going with Nancy, Jonathan and Argyle to Eddies appartment, the rest of them fighting over the little space in Steve and Robins.

"You could've got me chocolate," Steve says, nudging him.

"This is what you really wanted though, isn't it? That was the whole point, big boy."

"Right. Sorry, it... I wanted to say thank you. I know this must have taken a lot to organize and-"

"Steve. You don't need to thank me. Besides, I could never have done this on my own."

"Still... thank you." Steve is quiet for a moment, looking out to the busy city street. "What do you want?"

"This."

"No, what do you really want?"

"Yeah, this. Everyones together, having so much fun. We're gonna do a one-shot when you go to work tomorrow. And, uh... you're happy. I don't need anything more than that."

"Right," Steve clears his throat. He shuffles a little closer, so their sides are almost flush together, tentatively reaching out to hold Eddies hand. "You don't need anything else. What about what you want?"

"You know what I want."

"I want you to say it."

Steve leans over, bumping their shoulders together when he hesitates. He smiles, reassuring, and gives Eddies hand a squeeze.

"What do you want, Eddie?"

"You. I- I want you."

It's terrifying to admit, a horrifying leap... but the smile Steve gives him, so soft and happy, is more than worth it.

"As you wish."

#stranger things #steve harrington #eddie munson #steddie #steddie fic #ficlet #flufffic

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thebirdsandthebats · 11 months

Text

Tim’s family thinks he can cook really well.

He didn’t mean for this to go so far. It had been a misunderstanding by a well-meaning Dick the last time he was in Gotham and stopped by the boat to visit. Tim had reheated some leftovers in his fridge from the night before, and Dick’s eyes lit up the moment Tim set the plates down.

“Wow, that looks amazing,” he’d commented. Tim, exhausted from a long patrol and preoccupied with dread of having to wake up early, had merely agreed. Of course Bernard’s cooking looked amazing. He was almost as big on presentation as he was on flavor.

“Yeah. Tastes even better.”

What he didn’t realize was that Dick had assumed he made the food. Which wouldn’t have been a problem if not for the fact that Dick loved to brag on his siblings. The next week, Stephanie stopped by unannounced to visit.

“I can’t believe how much you like it here. In a good way, obviously,” she’d grinned while Tim heated up some of the french onion soup that his boyfriend had made him. Tim laughed as he used a terry cloth to handle the hot bowl, placing it down in front of Steph.

He sat next to her with his own bowl. The random visits were odd. But on the bright side, the need to be a good host was kind of forcing him to eat on a more normal schedule. Two birds, one stone he guessed.

“Yeah. I like the marina a lot,” he blew lightly on his spoonful, the soup still steaming hot. “The atmosphere is so different from anywhere I’ve lived. I think being around the marina folk has been good for me—”

“Ohmygod.”

Tim looked over, startled by the outburst. Steph was staring at her soup with wide eyes. Her hand covered her mouth. Tim’s brows drew close together in confusion. “Are you okay? Did you burn your tongue?”

Steph grabbed his shoulder in a firm grip. “You’ve been holding out on us!” She accused.

“Wh—”

“You’ve been sticking to easy foods when you cook at the manor, but here you have the good stuff!” Tim frowned at her words. The realization was beginning to sink in. Did she think he made the soup? He knew how to cook, but he was nowhere near his boyfriend’s level. Bernard was literally in school to be a chef. He liked to practice his assignments at Tim’s boat, suffering through using his poor excuse for a kitchen all so he could leave Tim with the food when it was finished.

Tim opened his mouth to break the news to Steph, but their phones rang out with the high pitched drone that meant someone needed backup. Stephanie sighed. She lifted the bowl and downed all she could in a few swallows before leaping to her feet. “Job never ends, huh?” She offered Tim a hand up, and he took it without hesitation.

“Nope. Let’s suit up.”

After that night, Tim forgot to correct her. He was busy, and his family getting the wrong idea about his cooking abilities just didn’t make the top of his priority list. Bernard kept cooking when he spent nights over, and family kept dropping by on other nights, somehow never crossing paths. Tim’s neighbors seemed perplexed on how he’d gone from only ever letting his boyfriend in to having company every other night. And Tim just…couldn’t find the right moment to set the record straight.

Everything came to a head in the summer, not too long after Tim’s birthday. He was sprawled out on his couch, head resting in Bernard’s lap as the blonde’s fingers scratched lightly at his scalp. It was the lazy kind of day they didn’t often get to spend together, and Tim was feeling warm and drowsy. That was, until his phone dinged with several text notifications, and he dug it out with a grumble to see who needed him.

stop spamming the gc

Dick: it’s august .. here we go

Steph: birthday month babey!!

Duke: my wallet…

Cass: Dami, Jason, Steph, and Duke all get the bday cake in their contact names :)

Steph: Tim I know you’re lurking. for the birthday month we all want you to bring GOOD FOOD TO THE FUNCTION PLS AND TY

Damian: do not forget my dietary restrictions if you do so.

Steph: you text like you’re 84

Tim groaned and let his phone clatter to the floor. Bernard’s fingers paused in his hair. “Bad news?” He asked, concern painting his voice.

Tim shook his head and scrubbed at his face with his hands. “Not really. It’s just—um. You know how you always leave food here for me?” He tilted his head back to look Bernard in the face, and his breath caught for a moment when he saw that his boyfriend was already looking down at him.

He snickered at Tim’s expression. “Yeah? Do you need more?” He asked. Tim was baffled by the question. His fridge hadn’t been empty in ages, and even with his frequent guests, Bernard made such large portions that it took him days to finish a dish. He had more than enough.

“No, it isn’t that. My family…” he hesitated, wondering how dumb this was going to sound. But Bernard was waiting, watching him expectantly, and these days he’d started filling in the gaps himself whenever Tim’s words trailed off thoughtfully. If he didn’t finish speaking quickly, Bernard would have an entirely new problem invented.

“…um, they think I can cook.”

Bernard burst out laughing.

Tim’s face burned pink. “Wh—hey,” he complained at the reaction. “I know how to cook, why are you laughing?”

Bernard wiped the corner of his eye, giggling like a maniac. “Sorry, sorry! You said that like you were coming out to me, and also I’ve seen you sauté,” he managed, and Tim rolled his eyes at the memory. He had sautéed just fine…mostly.

When Bernard was finished laughing at him and had caught his breath again, Tim explained his situation and showed him the texts. He raised an eyebrow. “Jeez. Four August birthdays? And they expect you to cook for all of them?”

Tim sighed. “Yeah. I could just tell them they’ve got the wrong guy, but now it’s birthday month and we’ve gotta plan quick.” It was actually a very rare occurrence that they got together for every birthday in August. Their schedules were so unpredictable. But all 4 was the goal.

Bernard chewed his lip in consideration. “Okay. What if…you give me a list of each of their favorite foods and any restrictions, and I’ll make the food.” He proposed. Tim sat up, turning to face the blonde fully now.

That was way too much work for somebody already cooking for assignments. Plus, Tim didn’t want to pretend he was the one cooking anymore. He said as much to Bernard, who refused to look fazed.

“First off, I can cook 4 meals in my free time. Easy. And second off, I guess you’ll just have to bring me with you to clear up any misunderstandings,” he grinned.

Tim perked up instantly. That was…a perfect solution, actually. Everything would be cleared up, he wouldn’t have to show up without what was expected of him, and the best part, he’d get to bring Bernard with him. He’d been itching to start working his boyfriend into more of his family’s meetups because it was looking like their relationship was pretty serious. He wanted to be able to bring him to their holidays, parties, and dinners. This was a perfect opportunity to start.

He leaned in and kissed Bernard’s cheek. It would never cease to amuse him how a real kiss on the lips was nothing to his boyfriend, but Tim kissing his face always had him turning red.

“Oh.” Bernard touched his face. “You have a crush on me or something?” He teased weakly, and Tim laughed as he settled back down on the couch, his head resting in Bernard’s lap as his fingers found his hair again.

A week later, Tim showed up to the manor with Bernard following close behind, a pan of vegan chili noodles in his arms. Dick opened the door. He beamed once he saw Tim.

“Hey! C’mon, everyone is already inside, so if you brought the food you can…” he trailed off as he finally spotted Bernard behind Tim, who was fighting to keep a straight face. He blinked. “Oh, is this…?”

Bernard carefully balanced the dish in one hand and stretched out the other in greeting. “I’m the chef.” He said with barely contained glee.

The realization seemed to hit Dick all once. His mouth parted in surprise. He glanced back and forth between Tim and Bernard. Finally, he shook his head in disbelief. “You know, this actually makes…so much more sense. Sorry, Tim.”

“Wh—excuse me, what’s that supposed to mean?”

#This was meant to just be a silly post but it got away from me #I HAVENT POSTED A FICLET IN. idk. CENTURIES #ficlet #fic #dc comics #batfamily #tim drake #bernard dowd #timber #timbern #dick grayson #stephanie brown #tim drake robin #td:r

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imaginesmai · 6 months

Text

Taken - Azriel

This is long and this is messy. I don't know where this came out, but shoutout to @marscardigan because she requested this fic so long ago I almost forgot. Enjoy the ANGST.

This is a fic inside the baker!reader universe from Right around the corner. You don't need to read the fics to understand but it will help you!

Plot: you're taken in the worst possible situation, and Azriel fights against time to find you.

Warnings: pregnant!reader, blood, wounds, death (not main characters).

You should have closed the bakery a while ago, you knew. You should have also taken a few days off and relay on Elain a bit more. As a matter of a fact, there was a long list of things you should have done better, most of them converged in the last month, but you were busy. And stubborn.

A very busy, very stubborn, very pregnant baker who was closing the bakery way too late.

You had been lucky that morning when you had won the first argument. It was Nyx birthday in a few days, and the boy wanted a special cake with the shadows of his uncle. And you had been working on it even if you were supposed to be on house arrest, only because Azriel was with you at all given time.

But that day, your mate had a meeting and he couldn’t stay with you, so originally you weren’t supposed to go. Originally. Since Azriel loved Nyx as much as you, he had agreed to leave you at the bakery on your own and not chain you to bed.

You hoped that agreement was still valid if he discovered how late it was.

“Alright” you muttered, looking down at the cake with your hands resting on your swollen belly. “I think it’s coming just fine, huh? One more floor and it’ll be the event of the year”

The cake had a base covered in black chocolate, small curls that simulated shadows coming from the bottom. You had already finished the worst part, and had the rest of the shadows ready in the oven for tomorrow.

While you admired your work, you rubbed your hands absentmindedly across your stomach. At the beginning on the third trimester, you looked ready to give birth. Maybe it was because of the wings, or maybe the baby already took upon his father’s size.

“I hope your tastes are less expensive than your cousin’s” you said, smiling when your rubs were answered by a strong kick. “That didn’t feel like agreeing”

The shadows that were already yours pushed you once more to the door, like they had been doing for the past hours, since the sun came down. Raising your hands up in defeat, you took the first step back home.

“Alright, I’m going. I’m going” you chuckled as they pressed more urgently now that you started walking. “I’m fine, it’s late but I’m finishing. Promise to put my feet up when I get home”

Talking with the shadows and with your baby was as common as talking to yourself. Just as Azriel, you seemed to understand what they wanted to tell you. You endured their constant tugging and pulling as you closed off the bakery.

Only when the door was locked and you turned to take the few steps to your house, you realized just how late it was.

“Oh” you blinked, looking around you. The babe sent another, softer kick.

The street was empty, the night silent. Not even the few cats that purred in the shadows happened to be there that night. Even though it was a summer night, you wrapped your arms around yourself as you put the key on your pocket and took the already usual wobbly steps.

At any given moment, you liked to think, you would have been more aware. Azriel had trained you for it, his family had too in the last years. But still, that one time you would have used any of that training, you couldn’t.

Your hand only made it to the knock of your door when the faebane arrow went clean through your shoulder. A clothe covered your mouth as the few shadows tried to blind whoever was behind you, not given you any time to scream or call for help. Gripping onto the last thread of consciousness, you tugged on the bond.

The meeting was taking far longer than what he would have liked.

It was supposed to be easy, to talk the problems out and to let Keir go with a warning. That was why Rhysand had asked him to come along, so that his shadows would snoop around while the male was busy. Because, if the high lord had known it would take so long, he wouldn’t have dared to separate Azriel from you.

Since you both solved your last argument, things had gotten better. He was ready to give himself to you, to become a better man for you and to be what you needed. And seven months ago, it had kept going – you were pregnant, with his child.

And if Azriel thought you were beautiful before, watching your body swell with a new life, watching you become a mother, made you perfect. The thought of you and your future child was what kept him put during hours.

He had known you were at the bakery alone; had known he was supposed to be home before dinner. But he waited, because he didn’t have a reason not to. Azriel felt a tug at the bond during the meeting, and sent a reassuring pull back.

He waited, until Keir left and he put a foot out of Hewn City. Cassian was waiting for them with his arms crossed, his back to their brothers.

“Missed us much?” Rhysand teased, letting himself smile for the first time in that day. “Is staying with – what’s wrong?”

Cassian turned around and his face fell. Azriel recognized earlier than Rhysand the fall of his shoulders, the slump on his wings. There was tension and pain written all over his face. His spymaster-mind ran over a few possibilities before his brother locked eyes with him – an attack to Velaris, an update about Beron’s plans, the revolution in the human’s lands. He even had time to worry about Nyx.

Then, he locked eyes and his breath got stuck in his throat.

“What?” he blurted out. The look on Cassian’s face threatened to swallow him down a spiral of panic. “Cassian, what?”

“What happened?” Rhysand asked, although he was already reading the general’s mind.

“Y/N’s been taken. Don’t know where yet or why” the general spoke, without dropping Azriel’s burning gaze. “I’ve got guards up in the sky and through Velaris”

“Taken?” the high lord asked again, frowning.

“Your shadows came into the wind house, somehow… Nyx knows. He told us what they saw. We are looking for her already, don’t panic. We will find her”

Rhysand could see through Cassian’s eyes, the burst of Azriel’s shadows and a crying Nyx in his room, waking him up. His son telling him about the shadows warning him in his sleep, asking the general if it was true and why they said that.

He looked at Azriel, who looked as pale as the bone wall behind them. The Illyrian tried to come up with something to say, just as he had done in so many similar occasions. It was him who remained calm when Rhysand went under the mountain, when Nyx’s life was threatened just after he was born. Azriel made plans, he was a skilled warrior.

Still, he could only tug on the bond and horrify at the emptiness that came back.

“I can’t feel her” he confessed, finally looking away from Cassian to Rhysand. “Why? Why can’t I feel her?”

“She isn’t dead” his brother answered immediately. “You would know. It’s the faebane, you won’t feel her if they have used it. Cassian, what do we know?”

“No smells, no traces. Bakery was empty and her apartment too. They must have taken her in between”

“Who would fucking take a pregnant woman?” Azriel blurted out. “She’s pregnant. She’s – fuck! In between? It’s – it’s two steps! There’s no space in between!”

“What else?” Rhysand ignored him.

“They sent a note”

Azriel’s panic died down for a moment when Cassian handed his high lord the note. He quickly snatched it away. Barely able to keep in place, he turned his back to his brothers and shamelessly used his shadows in his favor.

He heard his name being called, felt Rhysand demanding to be let in. His own power wasn’t a match for the high lord’s, but it would keep them out enough to read the note.

One of the first rules he applied when it came to kidnappings was to keep the family and loved ones out of it. They didn’t think clearly, and without wanting to, could endanger the victim. But it wasn’t just a person, it was you.

So, ignoring his own rules, he opened the note.

If you want Y/N and the baby safe, the spymaster will present himself at the given coordinates before sunrise. Impaled with faebane and with no hidden tricks. Once we deem so, we will deliver the girl in Windhaven.

Each hour past sunrise will be paid. Don’t be late.

We do not appreciate being hunted.

There were words, that made sentences, and that should have made sense. But all Azriel could see was your name, the word baby, and feel his chest tighten. That wasn’t a clue, there was no way they would find them before sunrise and bring you home to him. Right then, he understood why they kept family out of those types of matters.

The note was snatched out of his hands by a very angry looking Rhysand, with a pained Cassian behind his back.

As Rhysand read the note, Azriel let himself have a moment of sorrow. He turned every emotion upside down, explored them instead of refusing to acknowledge. For years, he had feared the possibility of you being taken from his side. There would be time to panic once he had you in his arms, to worry about the baby once he could touch your belly once more and check your pulse and breathing.

Azriel tugged on the bond once more, feeling the crushing emptiness back. There was nothing, and he was threatened to become nothing too. Instead, he tugged on the faint, thin bond that was still developing. It was barely a thread of your own, fragile but promising.

The bond with your child had been the cause of your discovery. One day it was only the two of you, and then Azriel felt something else. He tugged on that and, even if he didn’t receive anything back, he knew.

“They’re in the mountains” he looked at his brothers. “Can’t say where, but far from Windhaven”

“How are you sure?” Cassian asked, but Rhysand smiled knowingly. Sadly.

“The other bond. You shouldn’t pull too hard, Az. It’s – “

“I won’t. But I’m not letting one second go if I can find her” Azriel cut him off with a hard look. “You’re wasting your time in Velaris”

“Don’t you dare, Az”

Cassian words were lost in the wind as he winnowed away, Rhysand barely touching his forearm. He knew he shouldn’t tug on the bond so soon in his child’s life, that it would only put him at risk. Risk an early labor, risk your discomfort. But if it meant it would take him back to you, he would rip the word apart piece by piece.

You didn’t know how, but after all those years, all those good memories built that replaced the bad ones, you just knew. You recognized the painted walls, the stains on the ground, and the smell from the fire.

Nothing had changed over the centuries that had passed by, you realized. The tavern was just as terrible as it had been, just as dirty. They were just as tall and broad as they were, although not that many. And you were that scared girl that they ripped their wings from, tucked into a corner.

While they stared at you, you only hug your belly and tried to keep your tears at bay.

You had woken up a while ago, and they had only whispered between them. From what you had gathered, they didn’t expect the pregnancy, and were worried about it. The one who had clipped your wings so long ago wasn’t around, thanks to Azriel, but you recognized their faces.

You also recognized the blood stains on the ground and walls, courtesy of your mate and probably the reason you were in that position.

“It has closed” one of them broke the silence, frowning. “Why has it closed so soon? We just took it out”

“Must be the babe” the taller one, whom you remembered to be called Sandor, shrugged.

“It’s the third time – “

“All right, girl, you already know to stay put” Sandor sighed, as if it was a simple routine.

You refused to talk, refused to anger them just like you had done in the past and pay for your actions. It wasn’t just your life in the game, and right then, your priority wasn’t it.

With only the moon light through the window, Sandor knelt in front of you and grabbed a clean arrow. Two bloodied ones were discarded on the ground, ripped out of your shoulder and arm. Apparently, they didn’t want to risk you healing around the arrow, in case it would somehow affect the baby.

That didn’t mean they weren’t willing to stick another one once the wound was closed and there was a chance of Azriel feeling you through the bond.

For a moment, Sandor hesitated. It was clear that he wasn’t comfortable about your belly or the situation. Hurting you to get Azriel might had been fine, but hurting pregnant-you was debatable.

“Just do it, man. You might already ring the bells and light a bonfire” the nameless one snapped.

“Do you want to do it?” Sandor turned around on his knees. “Clyde, I’ve got a pregnant woman at home. And she looks ready to burst”

“It’s not your woman, it’s his. Do you want to stare at what used to be Burton?” Clyde pointed to the darkest stain. “Tell him if he wants to consider, take his time”

As they argued, you finally felt it. A tug, a breeze, nothing more than a feeling, but it was there. It was Azriel pulling at the bond like his life depended on it, with so much strength you were sure he was using power that wasn’t only his.

You blinked surprised at the change. It had taken you all your willpower not to panic when you woke up feeling nothing on the other side, and they hadn’t let enough time for your body to recover from the fae bane to feel it again. But as they argued, you silently cherished the discovery. Maybe it was the baby’s strength, maybe it was the cauldron leaning in your favor or any other force, but not only you were healing fast – you were getting the bond back.

Still looking at them, you tugged back. The bond went silent for a second, and you pressed against it again. You were hit with an overwhelming amount of worry, of fear but also love and relief. Azriel’s emotions became yours, and you were so glad it was about to be over that you unfocused your gaze.

It was enough for Clyde to notice your far-away look, and realize what was happening.

“Fuck, she’s warning him!” Clyde rushed forwards, taking the arrow out of Sandor’s grip. “You think you’re so smart?”

You blinked your fogginess away when he walked towards you, coming back to your senses. There wasn’t enough amount of love or assurance Azriel could send you that would stop you from panicking.

“No, wait” you pushed yourself farther into the corner as he moved closer, screaming at Azriel as loud as you could through the watered bond. “I didn’t! I didn’t!”

“You knocked-up, useless, brat” he gripped your ankle and pushed you towards him, your back and head hitting the ground. “Let’s see how you tell him this”

The momentary pain of hitting the ground wasn’t enough to drown the anguish of having a new arrow dug into your leg, just above your knee. The ceiling became blurry and his voices tuned out as you screamed in pain, your bounded hands trying aimlessly to break free.

You couldn’t remember the pain from the first one, seeing you were knocked out, and Sandor had managed to make the other one hurt less. But Clyde pushed his body weight onto your leg, the bottom of the arrow piercing the ground. You looked up and watched horrified as blood started leaking out through your pants and under your leg.

Moving away from him only caused the arrow to shift, but being near him was putting your baby close to the monster. So, in your panic, you tried to ease the pain by lifting your leg while shifting farther into the corner.

“How’s the bond now, uh? Is your pussy boy there?” he chuckled, while Sandor looked away. “Go on, tell him how bad we are”

“We should move” the third one spoke for the first time. “If he has felt her, he knows”

“You heard the boss” rough hands tried to push you up while you cried out.

“No” you repeated, letting Clyde put your whole weight up and almost collapsing after him. “Please, just let me go. Let me go”

Gone was the keep-quiet-don’t-talk. The tears kept rolling down your cheeks as Sandor stepped on your other side, holding you up a bit gentler than Clyde. Your baby started kicking on your side, and between the pain and desperation, you felt like throwing up and passing out.

Their chatter as they discussed what to do next was background noise. Certainly, they weren’t taking the arrow out that time, risk or no risk of being sealed inside and affecting the baby. You could barely stand up between your kidnappers and remember how to breath at the same time.

You wanted Azriel, that was the only thing you were certain. You shouldn’t have closed so late, you shouldn’t have gone to the bakery on your own, and you shouldn’t have gotten out of bed that morning. The baby agreed with you, answering each thought with a powerful kick to your kidneys and bladder.

You tried desperately to think about positive things, to keep yourself sane enough. Closing your eyes, you thought about him. His hazel eyes, that shone with a special light when he saw you between the crowd. His mouth, that curled up so lightly every time you stared at him. The freckles in his cheeks, that one that snuck up to the corner of his eye.

You could almost hear his voice reminding you to breath carefully and gain control of your body when the pregnancy pain hit, and you tried to do the same. Taking a deep breath through your mouth, holding it in. Letting it go through your nose.

“Oh, sure, because winnowing her again is the best solution, right?” Sandor scoffed loudly.

You moved your toes lightly, relieved to notice that despite the burning and overwhelming pain, you could still feel everything. From your feet to your head, you twitched every part of your body, finally able to breathe through the pain.

That didn’t mean you could move without them hauling you up, or that the baby was anymore happy.

“Enough! We’re moving now. Grab the things. We winnow – “ the anonymous man startled you, making you look up.

“I need to go the bathroom” you whispered, although it was heard as if you shouted it.

Three pair of eyes looked at you with raised brows, one pair certainly more annoyed than the other two. You didn’t know how far had it been since they took you, but it was still night time. During the last weeks, you had been paying a visit to your bathroom at least once every two hours.

And that was being generous.

The babe kicked again against your bladder, making your knees wobble. If you didn’t catch a bathroom, in a minute, you would have to let go.

“Sure. Do you want me run a bath too? Clyde, you could massage her feet. Is our lady tired of standing up for so long?”

“Nestor, she’s pregnant” Sandor was the only one looking slightly affected by your request. “My Lorren – “

“Your Lorren is home and we are here. Stop with Lorren!” Clyde let you go to push Sandor’s shoulders, which made you stumble back.

“I’m not carrying her if she’s gonna pee herself”

“She’s gonna be a big girl and hold it, right?” Nestor gave you a tense smile. “And you’re going to winnow her to the cabin”

“I’m not taking her to the cabin, man”

And while you stood up and waited for them to decided where to take you, you felt your bladder giving up. It wouldn’t be the first time you peed yourself, and with the strength your baby was kicking you right then, you were amazed that you managed to hold it for a few seconds.

Clyde and Nestor kept arguing loudly about the cabin, while Sandor just looked at you with a scrunched nose. You would have felt embarrassed, but you were in pain, you were scared and tired. It was hard to stay standing at any given moment with your belly. Whether it was the wings or the baby’s size, you were heavy.

The discomfort of the arrow was starting to become secondary. Even though you had just peed yourself, you still felt the kicks against your bladder – and almost against every part of your soul. You gripped the only thing available when another wave of kicks hit you, that being Sandor’s arm.

The man realized at the same time you did what was happening, although he didn’t have time to voice it out.

“Damn it!” Clyde barely missed the door coming out of its hinges. He didn’t miss the knife that embedded itself on his throat.

“Sandor, shoot him!” Nestor yelled to his friend, who was too busy keeping you off the ground now that the only support was holding his open neck. “Shoot!”

“Pathetic”

His voice was like a cold breeze in the summer, the feeling of his shadows helping you gently to stand up making your breath speed up once more.

Azriel appeared like a dark angel through the open door, his eyes not even leaving you as he stopped an arrow with his bare hand. His wings covered the moon behind him, but they didn’t stop the next figure coming through. Before Clyde hit the ground still chocking on his last breath, Rhysand had winnowed himself and Nestor out of the tavern.

You briefly wondered if death by Azriel’s hands right then would have been better than by the spymaster’s hands later.

Your mate said nothing as Sandor was ripped out of your side. Only by gripping his arm and pulling him away from you, you heard the awful crack of his arm breaking into two.

Sandor cried out, only getting a few seconds to acknowledge his arm before his left wing is ripped out of his back. Azriel’s shadows assessed your body with a sickening speed, coming to the same conclusion you had.

You were lowered softly onto the ground, silently watching what Azriel had always hidden from you. The unleveled part of him, the one that came out when someone he loved was in danger. He feared that part would take you away from him. But as you watched your mate tear Sandor to pieces, you only felt relief at his presence.

The male wasn’t done screaming for his life when he fell dead to the side. His mangled body was blocked from your view by training leathers and tearful hazel eyes. Everything he had felt during the last hours, that he had denied himself from so he would find you, crashed hard.

His scarred hands held your face while he scanned your body, stopping on your untouched belly and bleeding wound. He didn’t even flinch when he touched your soaked pants to pull it out.

The pain you were in in that moment prevented you from feeling anything more than a discomfort at the pull.

“You’re alive” Azriel cried out, not holding his tears back. “I thought – for a moment, I thought… I couldn’t feel you. And then I did, but you were gone. I didn’t know what had happened. I almost died, Y/N. You’re alive. You’re okay”

“Az” you whined, one of your hands gripping his shoulder harder than it was necessary.

“The baby’s bond… I followed it to the mountains. I know I shouldn’t, but I pulled it” he placed one hand on your belly, laughing tearfully when he felt a kick back. “I love you. I love you both so much”

There weren’t words to explain what Azriel had felt in the last few hours. How he had stumbled down into the snow when he had felt your end of the bond alive, how desperate he had been to follow it. Then, it had gone dark and if it wasn’t for Rhysand following him, he would have crashed right there.

He was glad his brother had been there, that he had taken a male away for questioning. Once you were safe and with Madja, he would make sure to take his time.

Azriel pressed a shaky, wet kiss to your forehead, then another one to your nose. He kissed each and every tear that had stained your cheeks in the past hour, finally pressing his lips against yours.

When he moved back, ready to winnow you both back to Velaris and hold you close for a week, he was surprised to see new tears running down your cheeks. What he thought was terror for the kidnapping, the anguish of your captors, hadn’t left your face.

“What’s wrong?” he frowned, leaving his own despair for later and looking back at your body.

“Az” you repeated.

You had realized what was happening before him, had known just before Sandor. His shadows couldn’t possibly understand what was happening, and so, Azriel didn’t. Any pain you had felt during that night paled away from the complete, absolute fear the crippled you as you stared at your mate in that dark tavern, where your worst memories had taken place.

“I’m here” he reminded you, his hand caressing the belly. “Where does it –“

“It’s coming” you finally admitted, watching the realization hitting him. “The baby’s coming”

It had felt like peeing yourself, like normal kicks, you guessed. What had given it away was crippling, motherly realization that your baby wanted out. That bond that had connected you to it was more present than ever, and somehow, you knew.

Azriel paled even more if that was possible. Right there, sitting in the dirty, bloodied and now empty tavern, your water had broken. You wanted to break down crying, because of course, given your history your baby would choose that moment.

When Azriel didn’t say anything, you lip wobbled again. Because, if he didn’t have the answers, who would?

“It’s coming” you said again, feeling like a broken record. “What do we do? What -?”

“I’ll winnow us to Velaris” Azriel interrupted you, knowing the answer before saying it.

“Madja said we can’t” you reminded him, although he already knew. “Oh God. Az, it’s coming. What do we do? I’m having a baby. I’m having a baby!”

Indeed, one of the first things Madja had advised you against was winnowing while pregnant. So close to the date, it would only trigger an early labor – and on the date, it would be dangerous to the baby and you. Rhysand would be back in Velaris by then, probably thinking you two were just fine and happy together once more.

And winnowing away to warn him and bring someone was out of the equation, since he wouldn’t be leaving you for a while now.

So Azriel gathered himself together and gave you a hesitant smile.

“We can do it” Azriel whispered, not sure of the truth behind his words.

“What?”

“I’m not leaving you. We’re here together, and we can do it. Madja told us what it’s like” Azriel tried to sound confident for you, for the both of you, but it came out as a question.

“We’re having a baby”

The first rays of sun entered through the empty space where the door was as you stared into his eyes. You could risk winnowing back and losing the baby and your life, or you could send away Azriel and hope he made it in time back with Madja or any other healer. Neither of those options felt like surviving to you, so you nodded at him and willed that tear to be the last one.

Azriel leaned in and kissed you softly. His lips were salty, from his tears or your own, and kind. While his shadows brushed every available part of your body, you let yourself forget about the closing wound, about the trembling of your knees and the pain in your belly.

Kissing him would always feel like the first time, like fireworks and Starfall. His nosed brushed your own and his tongue deepened the kiss. One of his hands cupped the back of your head, the hair there already covered in sweat. Even it was cold with the morning breeze, you were ready to get out of your body.

The kiss ended way too soon, just as another kick, or contraction, hit you harder than before. You sucked a breath and almost stumbled to the ground.

Azriel was quick to roll his sleeves up, lowering you until you were laying on the ground. Looking up at him, he gave you reassuring smile and hesitant nod.

“We’re having a baby” he squeezed your shoulder.

You tried to smile as another contraction hit and the first scream broke the silent morning.

Want to read more? Check out my side blog @imaginesmaimasterlists, where I keep all the masterlists! Feedback is always appreciated

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fallingdownhell · 1 year

Note

Omg pls a part two for Kaeya and Diluc forgetting your birthday it’s so good I LOVE ANGST <3

Alrighty, fine. Since so many more people asked for a part 2, here it is.But I can't promise that everything goes fine..

Characters Included: Diluc; Kaeya

Content: gender neutral reader; hurt/comfort; angst; hurt/no comfort; one is gonna be forgiven, the other one not

Word count: 1,9k words

Please enjoy reading!

Diluc

Gods, he was so exhausted.

He wished for nothing more than to just walk over to his bedroom and fall asleep on the bed, but he couldn't. He had some important matters he still had to attend to before he could go do that.

He was currently hunched over his desk, scanning over some documents that needed his attention. It was late at night, yet there was still light shining from under the door, as well as footsteps coming from the mansion.

Diluc paid that no mind however, trying to focus back on his work. However, when he heard a pair of footsteps walk up the staircase, he put his pen down, listening to them.

He was fairly sure that it was you, so he listened to it, hoping that you would come inside to check on him. He knew he shouldn't have lashed out at you like that earlier and he wanted to apologize to you for it.

However, the person outside kept walking, past the door to his office and instead went into the next room, which was the bedroom that belonged to the both of you.

At first, he didn't think too much of it, maybe you were just really tired and going to bed now. But, as he continued to listen, it got more and more strange to him. Your footsteps hadn't quietet down at all. You were apparently still walking around the room, he could hear the opening and closing of drawers and closets.

He had half a mind to walk over there and ask you what you're doing in the middle of the night. Then again, he wasn't really any better and he really had to finish this, but when suddenly a second pair of footsteps climbed up the stairs, his attention was taken to them.

A few seconds latter, soft knocking was heard on the wodden door, followed by Adelinde's voice asking to enter the study. Diluc allowed her inside but turned his attention finally back to his work.

He noticed her approaching the table and putting a plate down in front of him. He glanced at it, laying his eyes upon a nice looking piece of cake.

"Did you bake that, Adelinde? It looks delicious. I'll eat it once I'm done here."

He was about to dismiss her, but the fact that she hadn't said a word made him look at her with his full attention now.

"Master Diluc.. do you really not remember?"

"Remember what, Adelinde? You'll have to be more specific than that."

She looked at him for a few more seconds, it almost seemed to him like her eyes were boring into his very soul. Then, she turned around and approached the door again. She stepped out into the hallway, moving to close the door but before she did so, she said one last thing to him.

"Today was their birthday."

Then Adelinde closed the door, leaving Diluc in the room all by himself.

Hearing those words put him into a shock. No.. this couldn't be..

He...forgot?

Suddenly, thousands of times and situations played in his head where you tried to grab his attention and he had dismissed you every single time.. how long had he been treating you like this?

Then, a loud sound rang from the bedroom next door, and Diluc suddenly got ahold of himself again.

He immediately shot up and ran outside, bursting through the door to your shared room, startling you in the process. But the sight before him made his heart clench like never before.

The sight of you, stuffing some of your clothes and other belongings into a bag, your eyes red and swollen, probably from crying.

"D-Diluc? What are you... why are you here?"

You asked him, but he didn't answer. Instead, he walked over to you, steps quick, and pulled you into his arms, hugging you tightly.

"D-diluc? What-!"

"I'm sorry! I'm so sorry, (Name)."

Suddenly understanding what this was about, you relaxed a bit, but didn't do anything else. You didn't reciprocate the hug, either, and no words left your lips..

"I'm so sorry.. for everything. I didn't even realize how badly I was treating you." He fell on his knees in front of you, taking your hands into his, holding them tightly.

"Please, believe when I say that this was never my intention. I love you very dearly, (Name). I know I didn't show it for some time, but I do. Nothing can ever change how I feel about you. So please... don't leave.."

By the end of it, his voice sounded broken, silent cries leaving him as tears streamed down his face. You looked down on him, seeing him all broken down in front of you, and you feel your resolve begin to waver.

Maybe.. maybe you could try again with him..

But then you remembered the last few months, how he pushed you away every single time you tried to adress something with him... how he pushed you away on your own birhtday...

Gently, you pull your hands out of his grip. Diluc immediately understood what this gesture meant, yet he wasn't willing to accept this.

"(Name), please-!"

"No, Diluc. I can't anymore. Who's to tell me that you won't go back to treating me like this after a few weeks again? I tried it. I tried to deal with it and I tried to talk to you, but you never wanted to. You always shut me down. Well, I hope you're happy because I am done. I can't keep feeling like I'm worth nothing to you.

Thank you, for all the time I had with you, but it's over now."

You gave him one last, mournful look, then grabbed your bag and walked past him.

He let you... there was nothing else he could do..

He listened to you walking down the stairs, listened to the heavy front door open, and then.. It feel closed again.

And just like that.. you were out of his life..

He lost you and this time, he had noone else to blame but himself and his own stupid decisions..

He broke down again, crying so hard like he hadn't done in years. If only he wouldn't have been so stupid..

Kaeya

Tired and still angry from the events that had happened yesterday, Kaeya was sitting in his office again, stationed at the Knights of Favonius headquarters.

He was looking through files and documents he didn't get to finish yesterday because he suddenly had the workload of four other people pushed onto him.

He was still angrily mumbling to himself when a knock on the door resonated within his office. He didn't bother giving an answer, yet the other person took that as permission to enter, pushing the door open to reveal Lisa to the stressed out Kavalry captain.

"Kaeya, there you are! We were missing you at (Name's) party yesterday. Why weren't you there?"

Oh, now that pissed him off even more. He put his utensiles down, trying to control his emotions and actions. He looked at Lisa, smiling at her, yet it was obvious how faked and forced it was.

"Well, I think the bigger question here is, why were you at a party during work hours in the first place. I wouldn't mind you going, but why convince everyone else along, leaving all of the work for me alone to handle?"

"..Why wouldn't I go to the party I, myself, organized?", she questioned, looking at him confused. Like she was trying to figure something out.

"You were organizing that atrocious thing? Well, in that case that begs even more questions. Again, why pull everyone else along except me? Also, why plan it in my and (name's) shared house, of all places?"

She didn't answer immediately like the times before. Instead, she was still looking at Kaeya, until a few seconds later, her entire face lit up in realization.

"Oh, you idiot..", she mumbled, shaking her head in disbelief.

"Excuse me? I do think it's not-!"

"Kaeya, you idiot! You really forgot?"

"...Forgot what?", he asked, now being confused himself. Why was she reacting this way?

"You really did... it was their birthday yesterday! That's what the party was for! Also, wasn't this whole thing your idea in the first place?"

At her words, his eyes widened in shock, realization hitting him now as well. He did.. He forgot your birthday.

Immediately after that, he thought back to yesterday.. the words he spat in your mouth.. the way your eyes teared up in front of him.. and he just ignored it, walked away like the entire world just revolved around him alone..

He took one look at Lisa, who was just nodding at him. He did so as well, grabbing his coat and then he started running.

Kaeya ran out the headquarters through the streets of Mondstadt, only having one destination in mind. He never slowed down, not even for a second to catch his breath. Only when he was finally standing in front of his own door did he do so as he was trying to fish the keys out of his pocket.

He unlocked the door and immediately entered.

"(Name)?", he shouted as soon as he closed the door behind him. He listened for a few seconds, but... nothing. No answer, no sounds.

He panicked a bit as he began to search the place. The house was still a mess from yesterday, but he didn't care for that right now.

Kaeya searched through every room, shouting your name to try and grab your attention.

The panic began to settle a bit as he opened the bedroom door, seeing you still asleep on the bed.

He approached you, finding you clutching his own pillow close to you, like you have been searching for some comfort. Your eyes were all red and swollen up, because of your crying.

'The crying that you, yourself, caused..', he thought, feeling sorry for what he had said to you.

He went on his knees on the floor, next to the bed. He inspected your, now peaceful looking face, for a few more seconds.

"(Name), wake up, please.", he said gently, stroking some stray hair out of your face.

You began shifting in your sleep and soon enough, you opened your eyes.

Seeing Kaeya, you remember his hurtful words from yesterday night right away, so you were trying to create some space between the both of you.

"No, no!", he exclaimed, getting up from his knees and putting his arms around you, hugging you close to him.

"I am so sorry about yesterday, (name). I don't know how it could have possibly slipped my mind, but it did. Words can't describe how awful I feel about the things I said, but please know that I meant none of them.

I love you, and I'll do anything for you. You have every right to be angry with me and never forgive me for what I said and did, but.. please.."

After he finished, you stayed silent, not knowing how to respond to this. Then, you felt something wet against your shoulder. First it was only one time, then it got more and more and you knew that Kaeya was crying against your shoulder right now.

You then, finally, hugged him back.

He was so relieved that you did this, hoping that this meant one step into the right direction.

Maybe.. someday in the future, you can forgive Kaeya for this...

#genshin impact #genshin impact x reader #genshin x reader #genshin scenarios #genshin impact scenarios #genshin x reader scenarios #genshin impact x reader scenarios #diluc x reader #diluc x you #diluc ragnvindr #diluc scenarios #diluc angst #diluc x reader angst #kaeya x reader #kaeya x you #kaeya alberich #kaeya x reader angst #kaeya angst

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neptuneiris · 11 months

Text

cardigan (3/3)

I knew you, leavin' like a father, running like water

pairing: modern!aemond × best friend reader!

summary: being in love with your best friend since high school becomes a strong and unavoidable feeling. until it starts to become more difficult when you get to college and the two of you, especially him, meet new people.

word count: 8.8k

previous part • next part

After forcing yourself to forget about Aemond, start having every intention of having fun with your friends no matter what and get a few drinks… you did it.

You managed to have fun and have a really good time with your real friends.

Even though you got your heart broken, you felt really bad and had to endure that ugly sharp pain in your chest along with all that sadness, pain, anger and disappointment…. you drank and forgot about everything to focus on the moment.

You even met new people, all friends of Ryan's.

The next day, in Sara's room at the dorm, you didn't even remember their names or almost half of the things that happened at the party.

Until she reminded you herself and showed you videos of everyone together with those people dancing and having a good time.

Then, remembering what had happened before you decided to have fun, you felt that urge to cry again.

Fortunately Sara didn't ask you about him, it was as if she had forgotten about him and you were thankful for that since you didn't have to talk to her about anything.

However, after Sara does you the favor of taking you home, even though the place doesn't really feel like that anymore, nervous, cautious and not really having the energy and courage to face him, you still open the door of the apartment and enter.

But you get the big surprise that he's not even here.

Incredulous, you think to yourself that he must have stayed with his girlfriend again. And you quickly attend to Vhagar and yourself, wanting to occupy your mind so that you don't seriously cry at that moment.

Did he really completely forgot my birthday?

You didn't even need to know, the answer to the question was pretty clear when you got to the apartment since he didn't show up for the rest of the day either.

And you didn't know if you felt grateful for it since you didn't want to see him or it made you feel worse about the fact that he really had completely forgotten you and your special day.

So the best you could do at that moment, was to take a bath, eat a little and then look for a job again around your area.

You want to keep your mind busy, you don't want to think about him, so you don't rest and you don't take your eyes off your phone until you find a job.

Until you finally find a job at a flower shop near the university as the store's receptionist and where the working hours fit your schedule perfectly. They don't ask for experience either.

That day, even though your head hurts and you still haven't recovered one hundred percent from the previous party, you take pills, get some rest and head to the flower shop.

And the next few days, it's back to living alone in the apartment.

Since you completely ignored Aemond's messages that night, neither you nor he have spoken again, not even a phone call.

You no longer ask him if he will come to eat, what special food he wants in case he does, where he is or where he spent the night.

You don't do it anymore because you no longer want to or care.

You also no longer do his laundry, the little he has here really, and now you simply clean up the mess you make and only buy food for yourself.

He probably has to come to the apartment when you are in class and you are grateful for that, even though you feel more broken inside every day that passes and you see again how he completely forgot your birthday.

He doesn't say anything to you, he doesn't even make the slightest effort, he doesn't see you and doesn't seem to have the intention of doing so any time soon.

Does it hurt? Yes, very much.

But you know you are no one to tell him what he can and can't do, who he can and can't be with.

Just as you don't have to remind him that it was your birthday, nor should you tell him that he forgot all about it.

He knows what he is doing, he makes his own decisions, he is no longer a child,… and neither are you.

That's why despite being very upset, sad and broken, really not wanting to you still force yourself to try to communicate with him.

You've got the job and there's a dorm room available at the residence halls, so now you just want to give him the key to the apartment.

Although nothing would be better than just leaving and nothing else, but you know you can't do that.

After all, he helped you a lot financially by offering you your own space here, basically for free.

But yet when you text and call him a few times as you start packing, he doesn't respond.

He responds very late at night only telling you that he's staying the night with Alys. And when you ask him if you can see each other and talk, he doesn't respond anymore.

Until more days go by and you unsuccessfully, feeling really annoyed with him, you tell yourself that enough is enough.

You ask Ryan to help you transport your things to your new home and you definitely break all ties with Aemond by bringing Vhagar with you as well.

With him pretending you no longer exist, as if he didn't have his best friend living with him, or apparently so it was, so now you also do the exact same thing.

You pretend he no longer exists and just walk away.

And now as you settle into your new home, which is not at all like where you used to live before, you still like it and tell yourself that you will get used to it soon.

It has nothing more than the small square space with your bed, your closet and desk, also a small bathroom.

You only have to buy a small refrigerator now while everything else like laundry is already offered by the residence on the first floor.

You know your room will be a small place for Vhagar but she doesn't seem to mind as she settles into your bed and falls asleep once you start unpacking.

Until the weekend comes and your friends make noise in the group chat saying they want to party on Saturday.

And you, thinking you wouldn't be in the mood, agree to go and have some fun.

It's already been a full week Monday through Saturday morning that you started your new job that you couldn't have liked any better. So you want to get all the stress out.

Most of all you want to get the sadness out of your system because of work, your classes and also because of him.

It's also been a full week since you moved, so not wanting anything to do with him anymore, you head to the one person you know will help you with the matter: Helaena.

Helaena also studies at the same university, she also lives in a dorm room, only that she studies biology.

So once you send her a message asking if the two of you can meet, she gladly accepts and you arrange to meet in her room.

And soon enough she finds herself opening her door to greet you.

"Hi Y/N!" she exclaims happily and wraps you in a soft hug, to which you smile.

"Hello Hel."

"Where have you been? I finally see you."

She asks you as she pulls away from you and looks at you a little confused, without erasing her charming smile.

"You know…" You shrug your shoulders, a little nervous, "I've been very busy with my classes."

And even though that's not the real reason, she still believes you.

"Oh yeah, sure, me too, it's a nightmare. Come on in."

She steps aside so you can come in and you do, immediately feeling nervous because you know you'll have to tell her about everything that happened with her brother.

"Even so, you didn't come to the ball."

Helaena says to you suddenly and you watch her as she closes the door behind her.

"I thought it was weird since you always go to my family's ball."

"Yes…" you say a little uncomfortable, "I… I did…

"But it seemed so weird to me that all of a sudden Aemond took his girlfriend when he said that…..

She stops suddenly, then looks at you with her eyes wide open, now softening her confused face, watching you intently.

"Oh, don't tell me," she murmurs.

And all you do is bite your lips and lower your gaze for a moment in sorrow.

"Don't tell me you didn't go because he took his girlfriend."

You let out a long breath and at that moment, taking advantage of the fact that she has already brought up the subject of him and his girlfriend, you decide to tell her everything that happened.

The ball, how you now live alone in his apartment when it wasn't supposed to be like that, his conversation with Alys, his irresponsibility with Vhagar and finally your birthday.

"Oh I'm going to kill that son of a…

"No, Hel, please."

You ask her, not wanting to talk about him anymore.

"It's all done now. I don't want to cause any more…

"You? Cause anything?" she interrupts you, incredulous, "Y/N, you couldn't cause anything, it's all caused by him and his obsession with that girl."

"She's his girlfriend," you say with pain in your chest, "It makes sense."

"Yeah, but you don't put your best friend down for a relationship, Y/N," she says obviously and with an annoyed tone, "And believe me when I tell you that when I met that girl she didn't give me any good vibes. Mother seemed to some point pleased, but Nyra with her look told me everything, so did Aegon and even my uncle Daemon."

"Really?"

You ask her really interested in it, since apparently you were not the only one who felt that way when you met Alys for the first time.

"Yes, really," she assures you, "They all asked about you, Daeron, Jace and Luke too."

You lower your gaze with a sad expression, since you haven't seen Aemond's little brother or his two nephews who have always been very kind and funny with you.

You are also struck by the fact that Aemond did not tell you that his family had been asking about you at the ball.

Maybe he did it so as not to make you feel bad.

"Aemond didn't even answer them, he didn't even seem to know what to say. He just immediately introduced them to his girlfriend," she says with a pout.

You let out a long breath.

"Well, I still get the idea of how much fun everyone had. I saw your pictures and videos on Instagram."

"I just can't believe he told you at the last minute when you already had everything ready that he was taking his girlfriend," she insists, really annoyed, "And yet after making plans the idiot forgot your birthday?" she inquires.

"It doesn't matter anymore, Hel, that was a little more than a week ago," you say not wanting to give more importance to the matter, "In fact, I came here because I wanted to know if you could do me a favor, now that we are talking about it."

Helaena, still annoyed to hear everything you told her, still nods.

"Sure, what is it?"

"I…

You bite your lips, feeling nervous to tell the sister of your best friend, or ex best friend rather, about the new chapter of your life.

Mostly because after this, Aemond will finally know everything soon enough.

"I've gotten a job in a flower shop and I've also moved into a dorm. Don't worry, I have brought Vhagar with me, now I will take care of her."

You assure her the instant you know she would ask you about Vhagar.

"And even though I didn't want to, I had to try to communicate with Aemond, but he never responded and I never saw him around the apartment, so I just left because I couldn't delay any longer. To this day he doesn't even know anything."

Again Helaena's soft, tender face contorts in anger.

"That fucking son of a….

"So…" you interrupt her, taking the things from your backpack, "Here is the key to the apartment and also this envelope with money to pay him for the troubles."

You look at her with a certain sadness and with the hope in your face that she will take care of this after Helaena sees everything in your hands and again returns her gaze to yours.

"Could you hand it over to him, please?"

And now it is Helaena's turn to look at you sadly and with compassion as she looks at your hurt face and understands what you went through and what you are going through now.

"Oh, Y/N…" she says disappointedly, "I'm so sorry for my stupid brother."

And again she pulls you in a soft and comforting hug that you allow since you really need it, even though you avoid breaking down crying at that moment.

You know Helaena probably won't tell him anything, but you still don't want to cry in the arms of your ex-best friend's sister.

"Don't worry, Hel. And nothing that happened with him will affect our friendship either," you assure her in a sad voice.

"No, of course not," she says instantly, hugging you a little tighter.

After a few more moments like that, they both separate and Helaena takes the key and the envelope with the money.

That money was sent to you monthly by your parents and you decided to give it to him. Now with your job at the flower shop, you can get that money back for your needs.

But for now it feels good to give it to Aemond because despite hearing that horrible conversation between him and his girlfriend, you do it mostly to feel better about yourself.

And after talking a few more moments with Helaena, you both finally say goodbye and you walk through her door.

You both agree that one of these days you could go for a coffee together. And just as you are about to leave, Helaena stops you with her words.

Words that leave you completely still, and then you look at her again with a slight surprise on your face.

"I always believed and hoped that you and Aemond would end up together, you know," she says with a sad little smile, "I know you were best friends, but I always had a feeling, always.

At that moment… how you wished her words would have been true.

How you would have wanted that to happen.

You think with illusion, sadness and disappointment, and then just try to smile even a little in her direction, say goodbye one last time and leave.

Later that night, after crying a little and trying to cheer yourself up by getting ready to go to the party with your friends, you arrive at the frat house and the party starts right then and there.

At first, cautious, you are kept alert by the fact that Aemond could probably be here with his girlfriend or with his friends, or maybe both.

But fortunately for you, there is no silver-haired guy with a black haired girl in the crowd, so you can feel at peace.

Immediately the party games like beer pong and drinking begin.

Until at some point of the party, you realize while talking and having fun with Aileen, that again Ryan's friends have joined the group, three guys exactly.

And as you're all dancing together, having a good time, you're drinking and forgetting about everything, really enjoying yourself, you suddenly find yourself dancing and singing the songs at the top of your lungs with one of Ryan's friends, Cregan Stark.

A tall guy, dark brown hair, with black eyes and features that can't go unnoticed.

Cregan seems to have his eye on you and you have yours on him.

Eventually the two start talking, being close, dancing together, even taking pictures and videos of each other, and then the two sit on one of the sofas and continue talking.

The two very close to each other to the point of almost kissing.

Maybe it was the alcohol, the moment, the party or just that you wanted to have this kind of moments with some guy, because Cregan is really handsome and you really wanted to kiss him.

However, all the guys arrived just at that moment to keep you company and rest a bit after having been dancing for a while.

Cregan didn't seem to mind, you didn't really either, you both just smiled at each other, although he had that little disappointment on his face from the interruption.

It remained as that pending between you and that's why he asked for your number.

The next day, apparently that interaction and closeness between you and Cregan was noticed by everyone, but more so by your friends who squeal and excitedly talk about him and you.

You find out that he's a law student, a year older than you, likes dogs, plays the guitar, and apparently isn't dating anyone.

You didn't want to get your hopes up with him, because you knew that meeting a guy and him suddenly having an interest in you at a party is usually not a long-term interest and is just for the moment.

But the expectation went up the moment he texts you and asks you if you want to have coffee with him on Tuesday morning before you both have your respective classes.

And you respond, or well, your friends respond more excitedly than you, that you accept.

"Girl, the guy is handsome, tall, funny and a really nice guy, what more could you ask for?"

And in that, Aileen is right. However… there is a problem. And that problem has a name: Aemond.

Aemond has ruined every guy for you in many ways, both physically and personality-wise.

And even though he wasn't like that, he really was a very bad friend to you and all his decisions hurt you. That's why agreeing to date Cregan is easy.

You also tell yourself that Aemond doesn't matter anymore. He has a girlfriend, he's living his life apart, and so are you, and you and he are no longer friends.

So once Cregan tells you that he is already waiting for you outside your dorm, you rush out.

Excitedly you take one last look in your mirror, make sure nothing is out of place, also make sure Vhagar is okay and head for the door to leave with your backpack on your shoulder and your phone in hand.

But when you opened the door, you clearly didn't expect to see your ex-best friend about to knock on your door with a totally bewildered, confused, worried and to some extent distressed and desperate look on his face.

"Y/N...

And you are totally paralyzed the moment your name leaves his lips.

At first, you don't understand what he is doing here or how he knew exactly where you were now since you didn't tell Helaena anything about your new home.

In fact, you didn't say anything to anyone he and you know together. However, you do know him.

You know that he just by asking anyone he can find out anything he wants to know, including finding people, simply because he is Aemond Targaryen.

And then you start to panic and you feel very nervous because he's really here.

"W-what are you doing here?" you ask him in a bewildered whisper.

In an instant you tense up and hold tightly to the edge of your door, watching him intently and alertly.

"What am I doing here?" he asks in a totally bewildered voice, "What are you doing here?" he says, now certainly annoyed.

"I-I don't… I don't have time for this, okay?"

You try to walk past him, bearing in mind that Cregan is waiting for you outside and you don't want to keep him waiting any longer.

But you can't stop your heart from beating too fast and you can't stop this agonizing feeling in your gut at the sight of him now after so many weeks.

"Are you serious?"

He stops you by taking your arm in a firm grip, making you stand in front of him again, with the most bewildered, confused and annoyed look you've ever seen on his face.

"I come home calling you, wanting to talk to you, having this stupid idea that you were busy or something, only to find out that Vhagar isn't there, neither are you and neither are your things," he says to you incredulously, "I thought something bad had happened to you Y/N, I was so worried. I started to go crazy because I couldn't even call you or send you messages, nothing was getting through to you."

And at that moment, everything you were feeling, is replaced by hatred and anger for very clear reasons and that he, seeming surprising to you, doesn't see or even realize.

He probably wanted to talk to you about your birthday, but he couldn't call or text you because since you moved out and he had no idea, you decided to block him from everywhere.

But really, even though you feel weak from his unexpected appearance, his words don't make you feel anything but hurt and angry.

"And do you have any fucking idea how it made me feel when I called Helaena and she told me you got a job and moved into a fucking dorm just making everything worse?" he asks you annoyed, "All this without me having a fucking idea, Y/N."

The way he tells you everything, you immediately tell yourself that you won't react the same way even though all that flows through your system is one thing: anger.

So instead of talking to him in annoyance because you don't want to and don't have the time to explain yourself more than necessary, you talk to him calmly in comparison to him.

He is visibly frustrated and looks more bewildered than ever.

"Maybe you would have known… if you had answered my calls or messages, Aemond. Or if you had shown up even once at your apartment."

And you overemphasize your apartment.

"All that was over a week ago, much longer in fact, and you barely care to know about me or Vhagar," you say bitterly.

He shakes his head, looking more distressed and worried than before.

"I-I…" He lets out a long breath, "And what the fuck is this supposed to mean?"

He asks you again in annoyance, clearly after he has no idea what to say to the previous and from his jacket pocket he takes out the money you gave to Helaena for him and also the key to his apartment.

"For your troubles?" he raises the money in annoyance, "And the key for what? Are you really going to stay here definitely?"

"The money is because I didn't give you a single penny to help you financially and the key so you have more privacy with Alys every time you get home and I don't have to be there locked up in my room… stopping you," you explain without much interest, "That's what you wanted, isn't it?" you raise your eyebrows expectantly at him.

But he is speechless, staring at you in surprise, bewilderment and anguish, his whole worried expression speaking for itself.

"Did you…" he pauses in concern, "Did you hear us that night?"

You deliberately ignore his question.

"You wanted me to meet new people and go out more, also give you your privacy…well, I'm doing exactly that. Now leave and don't ever come back."

And without further ado you close the door behind you firmly and walk away from him to head for the stairs and finally leave to meet Cregan.

But because of the circumstances and everything Aemond must be feeling, he doesn't let you go so easily.

"Hey, no, stop," he says in a warning tone and then grabs your arm and immobilizes you as you turn towards him.

"Let go of me."

"Y/N…

"I have to go. Someone is waiting for me."

"Y/N, please…" he calls pleadingly, "You don't have to lie, I-I…" he runs a hand over his frustrated and anguished face, "Was all this for your birthday?"

At his question, you say nothing, just continue to stare at him with the most serious look ever, now just pressing your lips together and waiting for him to let go so you can leave.

"Y/N…" he calls you cautiously and with worry in his eyes, "I know I fucked up, I know that….

"Oh please, Aemond," you exclaim irritated, "I don't need any more of your pity, okay? I really don't care what you have to say, it's all done. I gave you the key back and the money too, didn't I? Now you won't have to pity me anymore and your girlfriend will be pleased to know that I won't interfere with your plans anymore."

He lets out a long breath, more frustrated than before and completely irritated by your words.

"It doesn't matter what you heard that night, Y/N. It doesn't matter what Alys said either," he tells you in desperation.

But you don't care anymore.

"I've done my part, now leave me alone."

Again you try to leave but he again won't let you go.

"Will you stop running away!? I want to talk to you, I want to fix this!" he says in exasperation, "I don't want your key and I certainly don't want your fucking money, I want you back with me!"

And that's when you can't take it any longer and you finally explode in anger at him.

"Now you want me to be with you after always leaving me out of all the plans we made for your girlfriend and leaving me living alone!? Do you really think I even want to see you and be in the same place as you after everything you done!?"

He is about to answer you, but a third voice between you stops him and also the whole discussion between the two of you.

"Y/N?"

Both you and Aemond turn your heads and from the stairs Cregan Stark looks curiously between you and Aemond, almost worried.

You know your screams must have been heard all the way to the first floor considering your room is on the second.

"Is everything all right here?" he asks you softly and attentively, turning to you.

Feeling embarrassed that he might have heard everything, which is most likely, you finally loosen your grip on Aemond and control yourself by telling yourself that it's all over now.

"Yes, everything is fine," you put on your best face, or try to, "Sorry, I was on my way out. I didn't want to keep you waiting too long."

"No, it's fine," he says nonchalantly, "Although I did come to hurry you a little," he confesses with a small, embarrassed smile, "At the coffee shop we're going to, the coffee you like is on promotion, but only until ten o'clock, so I want to get there to buy it for you."

In other circumstances, Cregan's words would have made you feel on the clouds, but because of what was happening before and with Aemond present, his words have no effect on you.

Especially because of Aemond's confused and intimidating look at Cregan, clearly annoyed by the interruption, as well as wanting to know who this guy is and realizing that you really had someone waiting for you.

"Yeah, yeah, let's go," you nod in his direction, "He was just leaving too."

You say with a certain bitter and obvious tone turning your head towards Aemond, but without looking at him to which you immediately feel his gaze on you, but you ignore him.

And not wanting to keep Cregan waiting any longer, you head towards him, take him by the arm and lead him along with you towards the stairs, leaving Aemond behind.

After you and Cregan start heading towards the coffe shop, you try to pay attention to everything he tells you, but you can't.

You pretend to listen to him and collaborate a little in his conversation, feeling bad about yourself but you can't help it since all you can think about is Aemond.

And even though Cregan tries to bring up the subject, clearly because it's obvious he heard you were arguing, you quickly evade him.

However, he tells you that he believes he has seen Aemond before and has heard a lot about him. Also of his sister, Helaena.

But overall, this going out or rather date? with Cregan… did not turn out as you expected and as you wanted it to because of Aemond's unexpected visit to your new home.

And once again, you find yourself out of balance because of what happened with him now.

Latch by Disclosure and Sam Smith is heard throughout the house of the most popular party frat house and the one that never disappoints.

At first, you thought about not partying with your friends and Cregan since you weren't in the mood and didn't want to have to deal with a hangover the next day.

However, Cregan is the one who convinces you and now the two of you are dancing along with all your other friends having a good time, singing at the top of your lungs and forgetting about everything.

The whole party is going amazing, you're still not drinking too much, you're having fun with your friends and Cregan most of all.

Until you are catching your breath to continue dancing with Cregan, both of you apart and talking, suddenly your gaze is focused on the entrance of the house and Aemond Targaryen makes an appearance holding Alys' hand with all his friends also entering behind him.

Instantly you want to leave, because you know you don't feel comfortable now with the presence of your ex best friend knowing what happened the last time you saw each other.

And even more so when he notices you standing apart, with that guy from before, the two of you very close and talking, now realizing your presence.

But you pretend not to see him even though your heart starts beating fast when you feel his gaze.

When you stop feeling that he is looking at you, then you see him and still holding hands with Alys both of them go to the kitchen. And that's when you say to yourself: no.

He is not going to ruin this party with your friends. He came here for the sole purpose of having fun, which is the point of the party and so are you.

You decide to leave the feelings behind and continue having fun as before.

You drink some more, resume dancing, singing and playing party games, just forget about him and focus on you, what you are doing and the people around you.

When in the kitchen, while you are pouring more drinks for Cregan and yourself, something happens that you least expected and that causes you a lot of confusion at the same time.

However, somehow you must have known that Aemond would be coming for you.

"Y/N."

He calls out to you and when you look at him, you again meet his gaze a little worried but also hopeful that he might talk to you.

But of course, Alys must be by his side clinging to his right arm, watching you with a certain indifference.

And you, preferring a thousand times to ignore it, unfortunately still do not finish preparing the drinks, so you decide to act indifferent.

"Yes?" you say without even looking at him.

And just with your indifference, which Aemond notices perfectly, only makes him more frustrated, but not wanting to explode again against you, he can only try to relax and start with what he wants to say as calmly as possible so as not to push you away.

"Are you…" he swallows hard, looking at you apologetically and a bit nervously, "Are you enjoying the party?"

However, his question couldn't have been more pathetic for you.

"Yes, very much in fact."

You answer without further ado, putting everything back in its place to finally get out of the way and leave. And that's what you do, you turn around with your drinks in hand and walk away.

But he stops you instantly by standing in front of you.

"Y/N," he calls out to you pleadingly, "Can we go outside and talk, please?"

And you, wanting to take your indifference further, even more with Alys' presence, that's exactly what you do.

"About what?"

"About the other day," he tells you more cautious and attentive than before.

And you frown at him.

"Was there anything else to say?"

He lets out a long sigh.

"Y/N, please…

"There you are!"

Again Cregan's voice interrupts the conversation between the two of you and Cregan, without even noticing Aemond, turns to you with a small smile on his lips.

"I went to the bathroom for two seconds and I had already lost you," he says amused, "You need help?"

He points to the drinks and you nod.

"Yes," you extend one to him, placing a soft smile in his direction, "This one's yours, actually.

"Thank you, my pretty."

And maybe it had been again the interruption of the same boy from the other day, that makes Aemond can't help but feel annoyed.

But maybe it's more from the fact that he tenses up and watches him with a clenched jaw as he hears that word from him towards you.

Pretty.

Both he and you think, but you really couldn't care less as you watch between Cregan and him over the nickname.

And feeling Aemond's burning gaze, Cregan finally seems to notice the presence of Aemond Targaryen himself.

"Oh, hey," he smiles friendly, "Sorry, we've met before, haven't we?"

And Aemond, really annoyed, just bites the inside of his cheek and avoids showing his irritation, as well as the discontent he feels towards the guy.

"Yes," he says without looking at him, with a cutting tone, focusing again on you.

"Yes, sorry again," Cregan tells him again, "It's just that we weren't introduced."

And after Cregan says that, you're sorry but you want to murder him.

Especially since now Cregan is watching you too, already having the smoldering stare of your ex best at you and the guy you're apparently starting to have… something with.

Not to mention the judgmental and irritated look from Alys as well.

And you, having no choice, introduce them to each other.

"Aemond, this is Cregan, my friend," you point to Cregan, "And Cregan, this is Aemond, an old classmate at high school."

And finally you point to Aemond, without looking at him too much.

And again, everything in Aemond contracts and his whole bewildered look is reflected on his face after hearing your words.

Even Alys stirs in her place, watching Aemond intently.

A strange feeling in his chest invades him and all his disappointment, as well as his sadness, is reflected even though he tries not to be.

But the way you said it, your look, your attitude, everything about you makes him feel miserable and makes him recognize that he has definitely lost you.

Especially because after that, you don't waste any more time, you take Cregan by the hand and excuse both of you to go back to your friends, not wanting to be around him anymore.

After the party goes on, Aemond can't enjoy the moment. Even Alys next to him doesn't get his attention, neither do his friends.

All he sees is you, with him, the two of you dancing, laughing and close to each other.

He's certainly never seen you having fun like that before, never in the company of a guy he admits he recognizes; he seems like a really nice guy.

An unpleasant feeling turns his stomach and he feels it in his chest again when you laugh at something he has said, he slips an arm around your shoulders and leaves a kiss on your cheek.

His jaw tenses and he can't take his eye off of you, to some extent starting to annoy Alys by his lack of attention.

And Aemond loses it completely the moment he turns his face towards you, you turn your face towards him and the two of you kiss.

All the friendship that the two of you and Aemond used to have, you and Aemond, passes right in front of him in that moment.

Everything, from the beginning, from high school to college, with both of you moving into the apartment, having movie nights, having breakfast and dinner together, grocery shopping, everything.

As well as all the bad stuff caused by him, which he admits to, like all those nights he left you behind for Alys, the ball and your birthday.

Unable to take it anymore, totally ignoring Alys and everyone, with the hardest look on his face, he leaves the house in an act of desperation and

He moves away from all the people, from Alys, from you, because he can't see you having fun without him, he can't see you with other people, because it was always him.

And knowing that he was the one who caused your friendship to end, he takes a seat on the stairs leading to the house and starts smoking.

But even he doesn't understand himself.

Isn't this what you wanted?

His mind asks him, as confused as he is, who with a bad face and feeling like a complete idiot, continues smoking, thinking that it would be better to go back home.

But without you… it doesn't feel like that anymore.

He stays thinking for a long time, without Alys bothering to look for him, which he is grateful for since he has more time with himself.

While you, still at the party, continue drinking and sharing a kiss or two with Cregan, not really caring that you're among friends and other people.

But the moment with Cregan ends when he tells you that he has to leave, even showing you some messages from his sister asking him to pick her up at a party outside the university.

He asks you if you want him to leave you too, but you prefer to continue having fun for a while longer. You both say goodbye and stay with your friends.

Not long after, however, they all get really drunk. Even Ryan.

So as the four of you leave the house, ordering Uber's and laughing amongst yourselves, that's when Aemond sees you.

Confused, he throws the rest of his cigarette away and stands up from the stairs, watching you intently. And noticing your condition, he actually gets worried.

You can't even stand firmly on your feet.

And all you remember is having a brief conversation or discussion with someone, that someone also talking to Ryan, then you feel yourself being carried, you protest a little, and then all goes dark.

The moment you open your eyes, completely numb and feeling like a mess, the pain in your throat, body and head begins.

You groan under your breath, scrunching up your face and holding a hand to your forehead, feeling as if your head is about to explode in constant sharp pain.

You let out a sigh, closing your eyes and trying to calm yourself down so you can get through the pain easier, but it's impossible.

You drank too much, that's for sure, your body is confirming it. But what you don't know is where you are.

Alarmed, you quickly reopen your eyes and look around you, worrying because you don't remember who you left with last night and whether you came to your room or someone else's.

When your whole face contorts in confusion as you realize that this room is not yours, nor is it Sara's or Aileen's room. In fact, this room you know and you know it very well.

You open your eyes wide and don't understand anything, beginning to get seriously alarmed and worried.

What the fuck am I doing in Aemond's room?

You think to yourself as you force yourself to ignore all the internal pain you are feeling and get out of bed.

You quickly put on your shoes, make sure you have all your things with you and leave the room, hoping he's not here.

But of course he must be, because as you walk out into the hallway, with your things held against your chest, you hear sounds and very low music coming from the kitchen.

And as you slowly, cautiously approach, you see him, preparing breakfast, moving back and forth across the kitchen with his back to you.

Hopeful, you watch the door ahead a few feet away from you, then look cautiously again at Aemond, who fortunately has not noticed your presence.

You think to yourself that you could head for the door without making a sound and leave without him noticing. Being here with him in your old home doesn't please you, especially since you don't understand how you got here last night with him.

But you don't care, all you want to do is leave.

However, before you can try to do anything, he turns to grab something from the counter and sees you.

"Oh, you're awake," he says with a soft tone and a calm look.

At this, you don't say anything, you just watch him, hoping that by your look and your posture he understands that you already want to leave.

But he, at your lack of words, continues trying.

"You must be feeling very bad, you were very drunk last night. Here I have left you a glass of water and a pill, it will help you after you finish breakfast," he points to the bar, effectively pointing to a glass of water and a pill."

You look away from him for a second, wanting to let out a snort, since you definitely don't plan to stay here for breakfast and it's silly of him to think so just because you're here.

"What am I doing here?" you ask him, serious.

And by your tone of voice, Aemond is surprised and also disappointed, since he thought that things between you and him would never be like this again.

But how wrong he was.

Still, with relaxed posture and soft tone, he answers you to keep the peace as much as possible between the two of you and you don't leave, which is what he fears the most.

"You were very drunk last night, and so were all your friends," he explains.

"Ryan was supposed to take me and my friends to my doorm," you tell him seriously.

"Your friend was really drunk too, Y/N," he says in a more serious tone, "He couldn't handle the three of you. And I certainly wasn't going to let you go in that state, you could barely walk.

You press your lips together, thinking about the party and your friends, to again look at the door in front of you.

"Well… thank you, but I didn't need your help," you say curtly, "Not now either."

And without further ado you head for the door, catching Aemond unawares, who quickly reacts and stands in front of you, grabbing your arm.

"Y/N, please wait…

"I need to go.

"Where to?" he asks frustrated, not believing you.

"That doesn't concern you. I don't want to be here," you tell him annoyed, again trying to pass by his side, but he doesn't let you.

"Please," he repeats pleadingly, "Please don't do this anymore. Just stay."

"Let me go and let me pass," you warn him.

"At least just stay for breakfast," he insists desperately, "Let's talk and then I will take you to your dorm, I pro….

"Will you stop!?"

You explode furiously at him, unable to hold back any longer, feeling more headache and pain all over your body, but you don't care because you're tired, you're fed up and because you've had enough.

While he remains completely silent and observes you slightly surprised by your reaction, since he had certainly never seen you like this before.

At least not with him.

"I don't want to be here, I don't want to have breakfast with you, I don't want to talk to you and I don't want to see you!" you exclaim annoyed, "Can't you really see that? Can't you see that you and I are no longer friends? Can't you see that you're hurting me?"

"Y/N…" he says to you in a low tone, with a thread of voice: "Don't say that...

"You shouldn't have brought me here, you shouldn't have even tried to talk to me, because I don't want to talk to you, I want to get away from you and I want you to respect that!"

And without being able to stand it anymore, tears start to run down your cheeks, but you ignore it totally and continue watching Aemond with the most hurt look of all.

"Stop trying to play savior with me Aemond, because I've had enough."

"Playing savior with you?" he repeats in bewilderment, "Y/N, you are my best friend, I don't….

"No, that's not true, I'm not your best friend, I'm nothing!" you blurt out again furious, "A best friend doesn't hurt his best friend, doesn't leave her aside for a relationship, doesn't replace her, doesn't leave her living alone and certainly doesn't forget her fucking birthday, Aemond!"

Then again Aemond is speechless, watching you with his eye wide open, his lips half open, while you start crying in earnest, unable to control yourself.

"I'm so sorry, Y/N," he says to you, in a low, broken-toned whisper.

"No, you're not!" you reproach him, upset, crying, feeling broken, "If you were really sorry, you would have apologized since after my birthday, not until now that weeks have passed," you tell him hurt, "And that hurts, Aemond, it hurts that until now you have realized it, that until now you are looking for me, always treating me as the second option!"

The first tear falls down Aemond's right cheek, looking at you with a hard, but still broken expression.

"I'm so sorry, I really am. I care about you, you know that….

"No, that's not true, you don't, you don't care about me!" you contradict him again, crying.

And finally you are able to pass by his side, leaving him in a state just as broken as you are, while you wipe your tears and try to control yourself, when you can't. You still want much, much more.

There is still much, much more you want to say and you say it as you stop before you touch the door and stare at Aemond with as much sadness, hatred and anger as you can.

"You left me aside for Alys, you included her and took me out of our plans, you left me living alone here with Vhagar, you forgot my fucking bir…

You stop, sobbing and breathing hard, trying to calm yourself down.

"You forgot my fucking birthday for her and her parents while I was waiting for you, believing your stupid promises so that in the end you never showed up and only to remember me weeks later and a real friend doesn't do shit like that to his best friend if he really cared, Aemond!" you tell him crying, "I never was that way with you and believe me that having a boyfriend even so I wouldn't have been."

Then everything, both for him and for you stops, because hearing you crying and seeing you so broken, leaves him completely immobile and as broken as you are by your words.

Words and feelings of yours that he had no idea about.

While you, unable to take it anymore, finally open the apartment door and leave, wanting to get away from here and him, because that's what you want and…. he lets you.

He doesn't go after you, like he would have, because your words, everything about you, has left him completely paralyzed. He had never seen you like that, so destroyed and in tears.

And that he was responsible for those reactions of yours, reactions that he hates to see in you, makes him feel more stupid and guilty than ever.

And at that moment he realizes, that this time he has definitely lost you and in a very bad way. He has lost his best friend because of his own actions.

He feels miserable. More miserable than you.

And after that… nothing was ever the same again, both for him and for you.

You didn't see each other again after what happened in his apartment, you didn't even hear from each other through social media, because you had blocked him from everywhere and that's just felt better.

The two of you continued with your classes and in separate ways, as before, only now he was also aware of it and not only you, now with the difference that the friendship between the two of you no longer exists.

To a certain point you knew that he was still having a relationship with Alys Rivers, while you, you had to realize that starting something with Cregan, something more formal, would not be possible, at least not on your part.

You are still so in love with your best friend and so hurt that you didn't want to start something with Cregan knowing that you didn't feel anything beyond that for him. You didn't want him to be your distraction, because it wasn't right.

Your distraction was something else, something you still don't know what it is but you desperately need. Until two weeks after what happened with Aemond, that distraction showed up.

At the end of another semester of your career, an exchange program was opened for the next semester with destinations to Winterfell, the Iron Islands, Casterly Rock, Highgarden and Dorne.

There were also destinations to Essos, but you decided it would be best to go to Highgarden since with your excellent academic record, you entered the program with all expenses paid.

At the same time that you would go to classes, you would also have your internship with one of the best psychologists by being his assistant and start training yourself with his cases. You would even get paid for it.

The semester lasts six months, six months away from Kings Landing, that being exactly what you need.

So after going through all the necessary processes, you were finally given a departure date to Highgarden to begin a brief but important chapter in your life.

You gave the news to your parents, who were happy for you, wished you much success, and even let Helaena know who texted you to ask how you were doing. You never tried to talk to him.

And after the day arrives, happy and at ease with yourself, you board the plane taking Vhagar with you and hope that this will help you put it all behind you.

While still at Kings Landing University, in one of the coffee shops on campus, Helaena and Aemond Targaryen enjoy a good coffee, both serious, not talking much, just him and Helaena lost in their thoughts.

Helaena let him know the news and honestly, he doesn't know how to feel.

He is happy for you, but knowing that you are gone and will be back in up to six months, with no more friendship between the two of you, makes him feel even more miserable.

"She's in love with you, you know?"

The sweet voice of his sweet sister makes Aemond, in a fatal state, as if he hadn't slept well for days, raise his gaze towards her without really having much expression.

As Helaena shows him with her gaze how terribly honest she is being with him at that moment.

"She didn't tell me anything, but I just know," she explains.

And Aemond again lowers his gaze, running a hand over his chin, letting out a long breath.

"You really fucked up, Aemond. I can't believe you were such an idiot."

"I know," he says in a low, emotionless whisper, "You don't have to say it again, I know."

"So what then?" she says, "Get that brilliant brain of yours working. You can't be the smartest guy in your class and at the same time the biggest idiot with the girl who has always been there for you."

He shakes his head, only feeling worse just talking about you.

"Hel, I don't want to…

"Are you really going to let her go?"

His sister interrupts him with a look more expectant than ever, watching him attentively, while he swallows hard and observes with a serious and sad look Helaena in front of him.

And he doesn't answer because he doesn't want to, but because he doesn't have an answer to that question, mostly because he hadn't thought about it before.

Will I really let her go?

He asks himself, but the truth is… he doesn't know.

Aemond knows it's already too late but he also feels that that's not entirely true. Maybe, just maybe… he has another chance. And his last.

thank you very much for reading and for joining me in this short way, it makes me so happy that you liked cardigan very much, there are more stories for you on the way, wait for them:)

besides, there's still the epilogue, that's when we'll say goodbye to this story for good🥺❣

@letmeloveyouuuu @ohdemimonde @carriellie @jennifer0305 @serving-targaryen-realness @mariaelizabeth21-blog1 @ttkttt @melllinaa @nyenye @hoziersfairy @introverbatim @happinessinthebeing @hnslchw @padfooteyes @riseandreigns4u @shessthunderstoms @strangersunghoon @aemondslefteyeball @1950schick @ammo23 @targaryenmoony

there were many of you that I could not add to the taglist, an apology.

#aemond targaryen #aemond targaryen x reader #aemond targaryen x y/n #aemond targaryen x you #aemond x fem!reader #aemond x oc #aemond targaryen fanfic #aemond x reader #hotd aemond #aemond fanfiction

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sluttywonwoo · 2 years

Text

no nut november — i.n (loser #2)

pairing: yang jeongin x fem!reader

warnings: swearing, smut (18+), dry humping, messing around with clothes on

a/n: part of @gimmeurtmi and i's collab <3

word count: 2.9k

To say you were suspicious when Minho approached you at the surprise birthday party Jisung threw for him (over a week late) would be an understatement. He was one of the friends who would only come to you when he needed something, and you assumed this time was no different.

“Happy birthday?” you offer, wondering if that’s what he was expecting.

He’s unfazed by your greeting in the form of a question and just smiles, slipping his hands into the pockets of his jeans.

“Thanks.”

You stare at him for a moment, waiting for him to get to whatever it was he wanted from you but he stares right back with that stupid grin of his.

“So, um, were you surprised?”

“Not really. Hannie talks in his sleep and he crashed while we were watching a movie together the other night. But hey, anyway, you like Jeongin, right?”

You’d have whiplash by now if you weren’t so used to Minho’s abrupt subject changes. This one, however, did manage to catch you a bit off guard.

“Of course I do. He’s a good friend.”

“But you like him as more than a friend.” He wasn’t asking, he was stating.

You blink, stunned. “Wh- I don’t-”

“Come on, don’t play dumb. I can see the way you look at him when you think no one’s paying attention.”

Well fuck. If Minho of all people had noticed your crush on Jeongin, who else knew? Did Jeongin know? Did everybody know?

“Relax, I'm not going to tell him,” he continues when he sees the look on your face. That wasn’t necessarily what you were worried about but good to know nonetheless. He sneaks a look at the younger member from across the room as he talks. “I just thought that you should know that he likes you too.”

“What? How do you know that?”

“You know I’m like one of his best friends, right?

“I-I mean, yeah, but...”

“And we live together, he literally never shuts up about you,” Minho adds. He raises his eyebrows expectantly but you don’t say anything. You don’t know what to say. “You don’t believe me?”

“No, it’s not that I don’t believe you… it’s just, why are you telling me?”

Minho shrugs. “Think of it as a favor.”

“Since when have you done anyone a favor?”

“Ouch.”

“I’m serious,” you insist warily. “You’re acting weird. Why are you suddenly so invested in me and Jeongin? You have to have some kind of stake in this.”

Minho sighs and drops his head, which confirms your suspicions. “Okay, fine. Here’s the deal...”

Jeongin’s pleasantly surprised when you approach him at Minho’s birthday party. You’re one of his good friends but it’s rare that the two of you ever spend time alone together. It’s not that he doesn’t want to, he just gets so nervous around you. He can barely get a word out when you’re in the room, which is why when he sees you making your way across the room he prays for strength and holds his breath.

“Hey,” you say casually, sliding into the seat next to him, and Jeongin feels his heart rate pick up almost immediately. “Bored already?”

Jeongin chuckles. “What gave it away?”

“Well, you’re sitting over here all by yourself. It wasn’t very hard to guess.”

“Yeah, I guess I should mingle more,” he sighs and puts his hands on his knees to push himself up.

“Wait, but not now! I just got here.”

Jeongin’s half-relieved he doesn’t have to move from his spot, half-panicked because now he’s forced to have this one on one conversation with you. He started sweating the minute you walked in the door how the fuck was he supposed to get through this in one piece.

“Oh, right, sorry.”

“Did you get Minho a birthday present?” you ask, thankfully skirting right past Jeongin trying to ditch you.

He nods. “I did.”

“What’d you get him?”

“It’s a secret.”

“You didn’t get him anything, did you?”

“Would you believe me if I said it was in the mail?”

“No.”

“I forgot,” Jeongin admits sheepishly. “I always get the guys birthday gifts after the fact. I’m terrible at that stuff.”

“You can just add your name to mine, if you want,” you offer. “People group us together all the time anyway.”

“Wha- they do?”

“Yeah, you know like whenever I show up at the dorms the boys are always like ‘Jeongin’s in his room’, ‘Jeongin will be right out’. ‘Jeongin isn’t here right now, I thought he’d be with you’. Do they not say that stuff to you?”

“Uh, no. Not really.”

Probably because they all know about his giant fucking crush on you.

“Oh.”

You sound disappointed. Fuck. How does he always manage to put his foot in his mouth?

“I mean, because they just tease me right in front of you anyway.”

“They just like giving you a hard time,” you reason.

“So you’re on their side now?”

You crook an eyebrow. “I didn’t realize there were sides.”

“There are.”

“Then I’m on your side, obviously.”

“Really?”

“Of course. Why wouldn’t I be?”

“Cause you’re friends with all of us, not just me.”

“Yeah, but you’re my favorite.”

Jeongin isn’t sure if he totally believes you but he’s elated regardless. He beams at you.

“You’re my favorite too.”

He doesn’t know why, but after Minho’s birthday party, things between him and you feel different. The next time he sees you is on that Saturday, the fifth. You come over for game night like you do every weekend, and you take your spot next to Jeongin as usual. Everything seems normal. But it isn’t. Jeongin can feel it in the stiffness of your posture, in the nervous tapping of your foot against the hardwood floor.

The night progresses as smoothly as any other game night, with Jeongin losing every single one, but he can’t shake the feeling that something’s off.

You’re not mad at him, he knows that. You still laugh at his dumb jokes, you still let him cheat off of you, both good signs.

When Felix calls for a break, Jeongin takes the opportunity to lean over and check in.

“Are you okay?” he asks.

You jump in your seat a little like you hadn’t been expecting him to address you, which was fair because he was usually too much of a coward to, and turn to face him. “Hm? Oh yeah, I’m fine.”

“Just fine?”

“Yup. Just fine.”

“Not good?”

“Neither good, nor bad,” you say with a shrug.

“Why? Is something wrong?”

You open your mouth to answer but Felix’s voice from the kitchen cuts you off as he calls out to suggest that the group of you watch a movie instead of finishing the game of Uno you were currently playing.

“You never want to watch movies,” Hyunjin says, scrunching his face in confusion.

“Yeah, you’re only suggesting that because you’re losing!” Seungmin adds.

Felix comes into the room, hands on his hips, and lips pursed. “Do you want to watch How to Train Your Dragon or not?”

Seven and a half minutes later, you’re all on the couch watching Hiccup struggle with his daddy issues. Jeongin didn’t have much say in the matter but you had seemed eager to watch the movie so obviously he was… also eager. To watch the movie.

A lot of the guys’ girlfriends were over so you asked Jeongin to share a blanket with you, seeing as there were only so many to go around.

He agrees, of course, even though he isn’t cold. If anything, he’s overly warm. He hopes you can’t feel the heat radiating from his body.

It’s hard to focus on the movie with you so close, not that he was really interested in it in the first place, but then you snuggle close to Jeongin and rest your head on his shoulder and his brain short circuits. You must feel his body tense because you sit back up immediately after, frowning.

“No, you can lay back down,” Jeongin insists, going as far as craning his neck in the opposite direction to give you more room.

“I wouldn’t want to make you uncomfortable,” you mumble.

“Why would I be uncomfortable?” he asks.

“Because you’re being all weird.”

“I’m not-”

“Hey, you two,” Jisung hisses from the other couch, “could you keep it down? Some of us are trying to watch the movie.”

Jeongin apologizes and you shift away from him, crossing your arms over your chest. He’s really done it now. He tries to remedy the situation by scooting closer but you don’t even look at him.

From across the room, Jeongin makes eye contact with Minho, who gives him a look as if to say what the fuck are you doing?

Minho’s been trying to get Jeongin to make a move on you for months now, claiming to be tired of listening to him pine over you from afar, but Jeongin knows his friend really just wants him to be happy, put himself out there and all that. Minho’s been especially insistent ever since the eight of them made that stupid bet. He’s somehow under the impression that if Jeongin tells you how he feels it’ll eliminate him as competition. But for that to happen, you would have to like him back.

He doubts he’ll win No Nut November anyway, girlfriend or not. Hell, half the reason he acts so strange around you is because he’s using up all of his energy trying not to get hard. All you have to do is smile at him and his dick will twitch in his pants. In fact, he knows tonight after you go home he’ll just lay in bed, hard and aching with thoughts of you as he wills his cock to soften on its own.

But at least he wouldn’t be the first loser. Jisung made sure of that by losing on the second day of the month. Everyone saw it coming.

Jeongin’s pulled from his thoughts by the sound of you yawning.

“Are you tired?” he asks softly, not wanting to get scolded by his members for talking again.

“A little.”

“Do you want to lay down in my room? You could stay the night if you want, I know it’s getting late.”

“That’d be great, Innie, thanks.” You smile sleepily at him and reach for his hand. “Will you come with me? I don’t want to go by myself, I’d feel weird.”

Jeongin nods, brain going on autopilot as he takes your hand and leads you to his bedroom. No one questions where the two of you are going, either too engrossed in the movie to notice, or too uninterested to care.

You flop down on his bed as soon as the door’s shut behind you. Jeongin chuckles.

“Make yourself comfortable.”

“I will,” you hum.

Despite the fact that the two of you don’t spend much time together, it isn’t uncommon for you to end up in Jeongin’s bed. He offers it to you whenever you decide to stay over because he doesn’t want you driving yourself home if you’re tired or if you’ve been drinking. He always takes the couch even though you’ve pointed out that his bed is big enough for the both of you. He doesn’t trust himself not to embarrass himself if he were to entertain the idea.

“I know you wore jeans tonight so you can borrow something of mine to sleep in if you want.”

“Oh, that’s okay. I can just sleep in my underwear,” you say as you start to unzip your pants. “Unless that bothers you?”

Jeongin’s eyes widen at the sight and he spins on his heel to face the wall and give you privacy.

“N-no, that’s fine,” he squeaks out.

“You don’t have to turn away, Jeongin. It’s not like I’m a stranger.”

He ignores you and only turns back around once he hears you slide underneath the covers, knowing that he’d instantly get hard if he did any sooner.

“I know, I just... uh, let me know if you need anything else,” he says and heads for the door.

“Wait,” you call after him. “Won’t you stay with me?”

“I don’t know if that’s a good idea,” he says slowly.

You huff in frustration and throw back the covers. “I-I don’t understand. I should have never listened to Minho-”

“Minho? What’s Minho got to do with this?”

You look guilty all of the sudden, and Jeongin’s drops as his brian conjures up every possible scenario that involves you and Minho talking about him. None of them are good.

“Y/n?” he prompts again.

“He told me that he knew I had feelings for you and that you had feelings for me too, and then he told me about that idiotic bet you all made and tried to get me in on it, I guess to seduce you or something? But obviously he doesn’t know what he’s talking about because you don’t even like me!”

It’s entirely too much information for Jeongin’s brain to process at once. All he can focus on is that you have feelings for him???

“You have feelings for me?” he asks, dumbfounded.

“Did you listen to anything else I just said?” you huff.

“Not really.”

“Yes, I’ve had a big fat crush on you for forever now, thanks for noticing.”

“Really?”

“Really. Are you going to make me say it again?”

“I kind of want to,” Jeongin admits, finally feeling brave enough to approach you on his bed.

“That’s mean.”

“Why? I have a crush on you too, silly.”

You blink in surprise. “What?”

“Minho wasn’t messing with you. He was right.”

“You like me?”

“How could I not?”

“You have a funny way of showing it,” you scoff.

Jeongin rolls his eyes at you and pouts. “You just make me nervous, okay? I can’t function around a pretty girl.”

“You think I’m pretty?”

He nods and takes your hand. “The prettiest.”

He’s not sure who makes the next move, probably you, but then you’re kissing. Your arms are wrapped around Jeongin’s neck, pulling him down close to you as he slips his tongue into your mouth. Clumsily, he climbs onto the bed with you and slots himself in between your legs, moaning into your mouth a little when his hand brushes against your bare thigh.

You already sound breathy and desperate for him and it spurs him on further, hips grinding into you instinctively. He’s practically fully hard in his sweats, there’s no way you can’t feel it, but you don’t seem to mind. If anything, it turns you on even more.

You’re the first to break away, though, pushing on Jeongin’s chest to put more distance between you. “Wait, wait, the bet! Don’t you want to win?”

He doesn’t even need to think about it. “Fuck the bet.”

Jeongin kisses you again, letting his hands travel beneath your shirt and up to your tits. He traces your curves, outlining each one, before moving down to your underwear. It seems that you have a similar train of thought because you reach for the waistband of his pants at the same time, but he stops you with a sheepish grin.

“This is really embarrassing, but I haven’t jerked off in like a week so I won’t last long.”

You smile against his lips. “It’s okay, Innie. We can just go again if you cum too fast. We have all the time in the world now.”

The assurance is all he needs to relax. You begin to palm him over his sweats and it becomes very apparent to Jeongin that he’s going to cum way faster than he wants to. He whines, actually whines, and bucks his hips into your hand.

“Shhh, the others are still outside,” you remind him.

“S-sorry.”

You giggle and pull him in for another kiss as he fumbles for the waistband of your panties, wanting to make you feel good too. He dips his thumb beneath the fabric, lower and lower until you’re moaning and arching your back off the bed.

“Fuck, yeah, just like that,” you whisper.

Jeongin keeps his thumb on your clit, rubbing slow circles, while he works the rest of his hand into your underwear. He figures that if he can’t make you cum on his cock, his fingers will have to do. He’s been told that he has nice hands on more than one occasion, and he’s gotten good reviews from partners in the past, so it’s kind of like a failsafe for him.

“Shit, you’re wet,” Jeongin breathes.

“Do you believe I like you now?”

For some reason, that’s what does it for him. He shudders and falls forward into you as he cums in his pants.

“Oh god, sorry, sorry,” he groans.

There’s so much of it too, it seeps through the material of his sweatpants and onto your hand and he’s mortified.

“Don’t be sorry, baby,” you soothe, rubbing his back as he comes down. “You told me it was going to happen, I expected it.”

“But still.”

“It really isn’t a big deal, Innie. If anything, I think it’s hot that I have that effect on you. And you can go again right?”

He nods eagerly. “Yes! Yeah, just give me like, ten minutes.”

You laugh and pet his hair. “Well in that case, I can think of a lot of things we can do in ten minutes, can’t you?”

nnn tags: @doesthismeannothingtoyou @yellowroses-world @allyoops @thelostverse @karlitaburrito @lydataylorsversion @septemberkisses @caticorn61 @multifandomtrash-dree @cixrosie @mchslut @cutiequokka

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