#{Let me know if you want anything changed!}

[murderofravens]

DUSK TILL DAWN

pairing: hwang inho/young-il/frontman x fem reader.

warnings: age gap (reader is 20, inho is in his late 40s) slowburn. oral fixation. thigh riding. plot with porn. yearning. sexual tension. canon compliant. slight infantilization. no y/n used.

summary: he promised that you will make it out alive. he will make sure of it, no matter what it takes.

word count: 6.5k

PART 2: BABY I'M RIGHT HERE POSTED!

MASTERLIST

please ignore any mistakes.

as you wipe the blood from your face, the reality of your situation sets in. you never thought you'd get used to the smell of blood— much less the sight of it. or the texture. and now you're covered in it. the white of your uniform splattered with crimson, the metallic smell of it almost overwhelming. in a situation like the one you're in, you can only laugh. the mere sight of blood used to make you feel faint; make you want to throw up because you're squeamish. now you're covered in it from head to toe.

it's not yours. it's of the people they shot dead during the second game.

you barely remember how you made it out alive. the second one was all thanks to your team— thanos and nam-gyu were the closest to your age, and teaming up with them worked in your favour. your age and gender was a liability to the others, but they were kind enough to take you in. or perhaps they were thinking with their dicks. would it really matter either way?

but with the way they act, you're not sure if you want to continue being in a team with them. especially since thanos keeps trying to woo you with his poor rapping skills. they're way too loud and reckless for you, and you're scared they might get you killed. they're not willing to give up the game anytime soon, either.

then there's the first game— you're alive, because of 456. that crazy man who supposedly had played the games before. if it wasn't for him pulling you behind his back, you would've left the premises in a cardboard box. especially because you fucking sneezed as soon as the doll turned back.

since then, you've decided you don't want to play this game anymore. 456 has been desperately trying to change the other's mind— but they're greedy and insistent. you pressed the cross for his sake, and for the others, and for yourself. hell, you can live in debt, but what use is that money if you die trying? you're not that much of a hard worker. you value your life above anything else.

you walk over to their team— 456, and his two loud team members. another man is sitting there— player 001. the one who ruined your chance of going home on the first vote. he seems ordinary, but you know of him because you saw him beat the shit out of thanos. that was another reason you decided to abandon that team— you could not be seen with a bully, or a loser. as you approach him, you give him a slight nod of acknowledgement, which he returns. you turn your attention to 456, and thank him profusely for what he did for you. he's kind, you'll give him that. you like kind people.

"if you don't mind me asking—" a voice interrupts, and you look over your shoulder. it's player 001. he looks at you curiously. "how old are you?"

"old enough." you retort cheekily. he doesn't look amused as he cocks his head to the side.

"i'm curious as to why a little kid like you would compromise herself for money."

that shuts you up. you're offended, to say the least. who is he to call you a little kid? the entire team also looks on, seemingly baffled. the question makes sense. you're sure you're the youngest out of all players. and people can tell because you look it too. you don't really know how to respond, so you just look on with a frown, mouth opening and closing like a fish.

"forgive me—" he lets out an awkward chuckle, "i didn't mean it the wrong way. i'm just worried."

you give him an uneasy smile, rubbing the back of your neck. the others go back to their conversations, and you shrug. he shoots a glance towards gi-hun before sitting back down and shifting slightly, as if making room for you. you take a seat beside him. there's silence before he glances at the symbol on your jacket— the cross.

"i'm sorry." he says with a small smile, looking straight ahead, "you wanted to go home but you had to continue because of me. i put a kid in danger."

"i'm not a kid," you huff softly, straightening up, "i'm twenty. but yeah, you should be sorry."

you give him a small smile to ensure he knows that the last line is lighthearted. he seems to understand and returns it.

"dont worry about it," you sigh, fiddling with the zip of your jacket, "im sure you had your reasons. just like i have mine for coming here."

"and your parents?" he asks. he's so polite, it warms your heart. polite and soft spoken. and visibly tough. probably some officer, you think, judging by his skills you preciously saw.

"that's what i need the money for." you sigh, leaning back against the bunker. "i need enough money to establish myself. continue my studies. bring my mom and my sister to come live with me. settle off my father's debts because he's a coward who decided to pass down his sins onto his daughter."

he raises his eyebrows, and you take a sharp breath. there's a moment of silence between you two— you think for a moment, and feel your eyes get slightly glassy. you're not going to cry in front of a stranger. you put on a brave face. "if i die here, my mother—"

he stares at you silently, before putting a comforting hand on your shoulder, interrupting your cursed sentence. "you'll make it out alive."

the doors open, and the staff comes in again. they reveal the number of players left, showcase the money that each person would get, and then the voting starts again.

this time, player 001 doesn't disappoint you. he goes first, and clicks on the cross. the hope it gives you eventually shatters as more and more players begin to vote in favour of continuing the game. you see 456 get increasingly agitated as he begins to make his way towards the front of the crowd. before he can speak, he's interrupted.

001's voice rings out loud and authoritative, and worried. he reprimands the voters in favour, calls them out on their selfishness.

"we'll all die if we keep playing!" he chastises the crowd urgently. "you have to survive first, or there won't be a next step—"

"there's no next step for us!" he's interrupted by player 100. a stout old man who had been at odds against 456 since the start— you remember him having 10 billion won in debt. it makes you snicker. he eggs on the crowd. "with that money, we won't be able to pay our debts. we need to play one more game, then the money will increase to 240 million. with that we can pay atleast a little of our debts! isn't that right!?"

"you're going to die trying!" you snap, making your way to the front of the crowd. you glare at player 100, at all his little supporters cheering at the back. "your greed is going to get you killed. how can you be so confident to say that you'll survive the next game? what if you die?"

"you shut up, young lady!" he hisses, mouth scrunching bitterly. "is that how you speak to your elders? your brain is too small to comprehend real life problems. we can't continue with our lives with that little money!"

"continue your lives?" a laugh bubbles out of your throat. "look at that greying head of yours, you barely have a life ahead of you! why don't you let us live ours?!"

that seems to have ticked him off, because he quite literally turns red as he takes a threatening step towards you.

"what did you just say?"

"i said—" you step forward, shooting him a challenging glare, "you're too old to be playing children's games. vote wisely and let us go home."

he lets out a snarl before trying to lunge at you, but you're pulled back as player 001 steps between the two of you. like a wall. he looks at the old man, eyes cold, his voice low. "that's enough."

since the incident with thanos, nobody has really tried anything with 001. it's obvious enough they're intimidated by him, and they don't want to be on the receiving end of his wrath. 100 doesn't either, with the way he collects himself and steps back, embarrassed. you look over 001's shoulder, make eye contact with the old man and shoot him a taunting smile. you know it's childish, but you've resented him from the start.

before the old man can say anything, player 001 drags you to the side where you can't argue with people anymore. and the voting continues.

"you can't talk to people like this," he says lowly, gaze focused on the crowd. staring at something that you can't figure out. "you never know what they might do."

you huff bitterly. you know what he means.

"i don't care. i fucking hate bullies."

"potty mouth." he chastises, but theres a smirk on his face. he's teasing. you chuckle.

"remember you need to get out of here alive." he repeats, looking at you with an intensity that is almost terrifying. "you can't do that if you keep this up."

"jeez, okay dad." you joke, rolling your eyes. your words make him smile lightly.

"thanks for having my back there." you tell him sincerely. he looks at you for a bit before nodding in acknowledgement.

the voting ends, and they announce that the games will continue tomorrow. it makes your heart drop.

that night, you feel uneasy when you try to sleep. your clothes stick to your skin, and the side of your face keeps itching. with an irritated grumble, you get off the bunker and walk over to your new friend's side. you squint your eyes before looking for 001— and when you find him, you gently shake him.

"are you sleeping?" you whisper.

he opens his eyes, wincing slightly before sitting up. his voice is hushed as he responds, "not anymore. what is it?"

you bite your lower lip nervously before reluctantly asking, "will you go to the restroom with me? i'm kinda scared to go alone."

he blinks at you, confused. you continue out of sheer desperation.

"those guards just stare weirdly with their weird little masks and it makes me nervous." you hope your voice doesn't shake as you speak. "last time one of them kept knocking on the door while i was in the washroom and it just— scared the shit out of me. and my face is itching and i really need to go. please?"

he listens patiently. for a moment you think he'd decline but he just sighs and nods, and you cheer just a little as he steps out and follows you to the door. you bang on it, loudly telling the guards that you need to go. one of them opens the sliding window, and then immediately opens the door. it makes you feel strange, because usually it takes a lot more effort to convince them. either way, you're grateful.

you know your better option would've been to take one of the girls with you, but the sad fact is you haven't had the chance to get friendly with any of the female players yet. and for some reason, player 001 makes you feel a sense of safety and security that is almost strange— you feel at ease around him.

"i'll be in the men's room," he tells you, and you nod. he shoots a glance to the guard standing outside the women's restroom before walking away. you quickly go inside, and the first thing you do is splash water on your face.

you quickly clean the blood off your skin, holding back the urge to cry. you scrub at your cheeks till you're sure you can scratch the itch away for good. your nails dig a little too deep, and a little blood oozes out of the scratches on the side of your face. you clean that too, and then try to scrub the splatters of blood off your t-shirt. it's white, and you have no soap— so the stains remain. a faint reminder. you take your time, and anticipate the knocking— but it never comes.

you look in the mirror, at your tired face and sunken eyes, before giving yourself a nod and stepping out. 001 is waiting for you outside, looking to the side. he gives you an odd look as you step out, before walking alongside you.

"are you alright?" he asks gently, concerned. kind as ever.

you look at him again, give him a nod. "thank you."

when you two reach the room, he returns the smile with one of his own.

as you make your way to the bunker, he grabs your shoulder, "why don't you start sleeping on our side?" he says quietly, "join the team. there's a bed near mine. you won't feel so scared that way."

you blink, trying to see his face in the darkness. the offer is enticing— and most of all, it warms your heart.

"really?" you ask hopefully.

"really." he says kindly.

you follow him to the bunker, and he covers the railing with his hand to avoid you getting hurt as you bend down to get into the bed. he looks at the slightly wet patches on your shirt— blinks before getting a bedsheet and putting it over you. "get some sleep. we got a game to play tomorrow."

you smile softly at him. as he turns to get into his own bed, you grab his hand. it's warm against yours— big and rough. you don't allow your mind to drift that way. it's not right. he looks at you, gaze questioning.

"thanks again," you say softly, "it means a lot to me."

he leans down a little to ruffle your hair before going back to his bed and laying down. you close your eyes and drift to sleep— unaware that he stays up, thinking.

breakfast is boring— bread and milk. you sit on the bed, scowling. player 456 is surprised as he sees you there, before you two share understanding smiles. you bow a little and he bows back before going along with his friend. 001 comes to sit by you then, munching on his own breakfast.

"i miss home," you mumble, "how am i supposed to survive on just this? it's not even chocolate milk."

001 laughs, "don't worry, you can have whatever you want once you get out of here."

"will i?"

he looks at you, raising his eyebrows. you take his silence as a cue to continue, "im scared i'll die in here."

he looks down, before shifting to be closer to you. "you made it this far, didn't you?"

you look at him, voice getting shaky. "and what if i dont make it till the end? what if i die here and my family thinks i abandoned them? i don't want to die. i haven't even lived my life yet."

his expression is hard to read. "you'll make it out of here alive," he tells you with conviction, "ill make sure of it."

your lips wobble as you stare at him, and he smiles before poking you in the nose. "finish your food. you need the energy for the next game. we'll make it out alive, then we'll try to get the voters on our side and go home. sound good?"

you snort, rolling your eyes before nodding. "sounds good."

he gives you his bread then, tells you to eat more. when you protest, he sends a warning glare your way— the one with a quirked eyebrow and a knowing gaze. you roll your eyes, and happily eat it.

you were hungry. perhaps he can tell things like that. you're just grateful.

today, you decided to be a little rebellious. when you first joined the games, you used to spend a long time in the bathrooms— analyzing, looking for a way out. during that time, you'd discovered that one of the screws in the ceiling vent was loose. you hadn't really bothered checking it before, but since it's daytime and you have some time before the next game, you decide to explore.

your hairclip works— the screws were not tightly fixed, so it unscrewed easily. you'd contemplated checking it out last night, but you didn't want to take any risks, especially since player 001 was with you. so now whatever you do, the responsibility will be yours.

when the bathroom gets empty and all the women leave, you pull it down and try climbing up. it's moments like these that you can pride yourself on your agility— work that usually required two people, you could do alone. with one leg on the flush and the other on the top of the cubicle, you climbed up, scratching the side of your arm slightly before finally getting in the vents. you groaned to yourself, and then started crawling inside. there were two ways to go— you chose the left one. you looked down, trying to understand the layout of the place where you were practically held hostage. you keep crawling, making sure not to make too much noise before finally seeing a place through the gaps that you hadn't seen before— you carefully remove the screws and pull it apart.

the place looks empty. the walls are all sorts of pink and green. you put your head down and look both ways, seeing a door at the end of the hallway. carefully, you climb down and lower yourself to the ground with a thump. your shoulder hurts a little. you stand up, and aim for the door. as soon as you begin walking, you hear footsteps. it's as if someone splashed cold water on you— you realize the grave mistake you just made. guards walk here with guns, and you made the impulsive decision to explore a dangerous place like this by yourself?

you look around, running towards the other end of the hallway. the footsteps get louder, and as you look over your shoulder, something grabs you. out of reflex, you go to scream, but a hand clamps down on your mouth, and your back collides with a hard chest.

"shh, it's me." the voice hisses. your wide eyes look up, scared, before realizing who it is.

player 001.

your chest heaves as you break out into a sweat, a tear rolling down your cheek. he keeps you in a tight hold, looking to the side, your breath dampening his hand. the footsteps suddenly become faint, as if walking away. your breaths sync together, and after a moment, he relaxes.

he takes his hand off your mouth before harshly twisting you to face him. his voice is hushed but angry, "what were you thinking?!"

"what are you doing here?" you whisper shakily at the same time.

"everyone was back in the room except you. i came to find you!" he chides, eyes hard. he shakes you slightly, "do you really plan to get killed like this? is this how you want to die? can you go one moment without being a reckless brat—"

his words make you want to cower in on yourself.

"i wanted to find a way out." you try to sound assertive, but your voice betrays you. your words come out panicked, "I wanted to help and— fuck— i got you in trouble too— you shouldn't have come looking for me! fuck— how are we gonna make it out of here?"

he sighs, squeezing his eyes shut before looking at you tiredly. "the game is about to start. we'll mix in with the crowd when they leave, i doubt they'll notice."

"are you sure it'll work?" you ask. you hear a faint announcement. the game is about to start.

he looks up at the speakers, alert. he grabs you tightly and drags you away with an air of confidence. "let's go."

you don't encounter any guards on the way back. it's strange, but you figure it's because they're all preparing for the next game. player 001's plan worked, because you two mixed in with the crowd, and the guards didn't notice. one of them turned back to look at you, and you panted, staring back at him. your heart raced, but you felt the presence of 001 next to you, and you felt at ease again. the guard looked away.

"i told you to stop being reckless." he says quietly, looking at 456 and 390, before looking back at you. your legs hurt from climbing so many stairs. "what would you have done if they found you?"

you swallow the lump in your throat, staring up at him intensely, eyes glassy. he saved your life. "i guess you stopped that from happening."

he clenches his jaw, his gaze flickering up and down your face before looking away. "i won't always be there to save you."

you look away, heart dropping. "thank you, 001."

"call me young-il."

you look up at him, blinking back tears, quirking an eyebrow as you two walk. "only if you allow me to add 'sir' at the end of it."

he chuckles, eyes crinkling. he has such a nice laugh. "why's that? respect?"

you nod, giving a little bow. "respect is very important in my culture as well. so thank you for saving my life, young-il sir."

he grins a little and pats your head. you thank him again, and decide you like him enough. so you tell him your name.

he tests it on his tongue, and you quite like the way he says it.

the next game had to be the most terrifying so far.

it was called mingle, and you had to run to the rooms in groups according to the number announced. things like these were where you got scared— where you had to group with people. in dangerous situations, you know people usually only look out for two types of people— themselves, and the ones dearest to them.

you were not dear to anyone here. you really should've interacted with more people.

the platform rotates, before the number is announced. six. your eyes widen and you frantically look around, but young-il is faster. he grabs you and drags you to the room with the rest of the team. you pant as the 30 seconds pass, and then look out the window in the door to see how many people were left— quite a few. your eyes widen as the red guards move forward with their guns raised.

young-il leaps forward and covers your eyes with his hand before pulling you into himself as the gunshots ring out— you flinch and shudder at every single one, breathing sharp and your entire frame trembling violently. when there is silence and the doors open, you look up. young-il gently lets go of you, looking around. he's panting too, and you look at him with the most crushed look on your face before he meets your gaze. he can tell what you want to know— why would you do that?

"you shouldn't have to see all this." he says quietly, adjusting his jacket and putting a little distance between you too. 456 pats your shoulder and makes sure people are okay before moving out. you just look at young-il for a while, but he simply looks around, seemingly lost in thought. as if fighting a war within himself. you wish you knew how to reassure him like he did with you, but you realize you barely know anything about him.

the entire floor is painted with blood. the sight makes you want to vomit. you walk carefully, but your foot slips in someone's blood and you begin to fall over. 456 catches you. "are you alright?"

instinctively, your gaze tries to find young-il but he's standing away. his head is lowered.

"yes, thank you." you give 456 a smile, before assuming your place on the platform again.

you play a few more rounds. you're lucky enough to have someone to team with each time— young-il and 456 don't let go of you even once. but then the voice runs out again, and they announce the number 3. this time, 456 is dragged along with the old woman and her son. you look around frantically, and meet young-il's panicked gaze with your own. you begin to run towards him, but two people grab you and drag you towards one of the rooms.

thanos and nam-gyu. you shriek at them, clawing at their arms and trying to run back out. what if young-il doesn't make it? what if something bad happens?

this time, you have no one to cover your eyes or ears. thanos and nam-gyu talk shit within themselves, and you look outside the little window, flinching with every gunshot ringing out, trying to pinpoint if it's young-il's body falling to the ground. you can't help the light sob erupting from your throat, and thanos chooses the wrong moment to come bother you.

"watcha looking for, señorita?" he laughs, poking your side, "is it your old man? did he finally—"

you turn to him and punch him in the face. he falls back and groans dramatically, rubbing the blood running down his nose. nam-gyu rushes to his rescue, giggling. they're both high as a kite. the doors open, and you rush out before they can bother you further.

you look around. 456 is with the rest of the team, but you can't find young-il. frantically, you look towards the dead bodies, heart pounding against your chest and head throbbing. suddenly, there's cheers from your team, and you look up to see young-il walking over with a bright grin on his face.

you don't know what compelled you to do it. you were acting on your emotions— overwhelmed by the relief you felt on the sight of his face. before you can even stop, you're dashing towards him and crashing into his body, wrapping your arms tightly around him.

he's shocked, that much is obvious by the way he tenses slightly. but then he returns the hug, wrapping his arms around you and placing one hand on your head, gently patting. "i told you we'd make it."

you choke on a soft sob, nodding, burying your head further into his chest, as if ready to climb inside him, "i thought you—"

he shushes you softly, voice gentle as he runs a hand through your hair. you can feel his heart racing against his chest too. you wonder if it's for the same reasons as you. "i'm okay."

you wish the game ended there. but there was one more round to go. as you rotated on the platform— the moment you were dreading finally happened as young-il predicted it. the number announced was two.

you were ready to die there. things seemed to happen in slow motion— 456 took his best friend 390, 149 was dragged by her son. you didn't get the chance to see who took who next, because young-il had grabbed your hand and was dragging you towards one of the rooms. there were only fifty rooms— the first one you two got to was taken. he dragged you to another with a mere ten seconds left.

you sighed in relief as you got in, before seeing another man was already there. he was shaking in fear, and you jumped at the harshness of young-il's voice when he ordered him to get out. when the other player refused, young-il lunged at him and put him in a headlock.

your eyes widened and you stepped forward, panic stricken but he looked right at you and called your name, "close your eyes!"

you flinched. you looked at the man, then at young-il, before squeezing your eyes shut. you slid to the floor, pulling your knees to your chest as soon as you heard a 'crack' before opening your eyes.

the player was dead. young-il cracked his neck.

the timer finished at that exact moment, and young-il crawled over to you before pulling you into his chest. the gunshots rang out, and you flinched, sobbing.

young-il killed someone.

"i had to do it," he whispered against your hair, holding your head against his chest, "we both have to make it out alive. i had to do it. you know that right?"

you wanted to believe him, you really did. but in that moment, you felt scared of him for the first time.

the doors opened, and the game finished.

while you wanted to revel in your victory, the incident during mingle had rattled you to your core. the others checked up on you, especially 388 and 456. young-il maintained some distance. you could feel like he thought it's what you wanted. but you could really use his comfort. you just don't know how to talk to him again without being nervous. you force yourself to relive your previous interactions with him— he's still the same young-il who has saved you and comforted you countless times.

he did what he had to do to ensure your survival. that wasn't something you could hold against him. not when both of your lives were on the line.

the voting this time was just as challenging. you made your way to the front of the crowd, praying that they'd choose wisely this time. you need to go home.

one of the players in the old man's team showed you the finger before clicking the 'o' button. the action made your eye twitch, and you grit your teeth before straightening up to attack that guy and scratch his face off, but a hand to your chest held you back.

if looks could kill, young-il's glare could've sent that guy home in a body bag. as the votes in favour of continuing the game increased, you pushed his hand off you and addressed the crowd, "have you all lost your fucking minds?!"

their chitter chatter stopped and they looked at you. you clench your jaw, "after losing so many people out there you still want to play? what the fuck is wrong with you people? are human lives that invaluable to you?"

player 100 steps forward, insufferable as always. "don't you see how much money we're getting for each person? it could settle our debt! we can't give up after how far we've come."

"you're gonna die!" you snap, pointing at him, "you could take this money and go home and be happy instead of risking your life for something that is not assured to you! why won't you listen?! i want to go home!"

the others in favour of terminating the game start chanting with you, a string of 'i want to go home' echoing across the room.

player 100 glares, urging his own team to chant against you. he looks towards young-il, yells something along the lines of, "look after your fucking kid!" before the barell of a gun presses against the back of your head. the whole room freezes, and so do you.

"disruptions against a democratic vote will not be excused." the robotic voice calls out. for a second you think this is it. you look at young-il. if you die here, you'd prefer the man who saved your life to be the last person you see. he glares at the guard, his jaw clenching. the guard lowers the gun and steps back and you let out a breath of relief.

you immediately saunter over to him, gritting your teeth. the vote is a tie— and they announce the next voting to be held tomorrow.

456 says there's about to be a fight. the rest of the team got busy setting up a barricade— and you didn't get the chance to talk to your player. you knew his concern though, when he made sure to especially hide your side of the bed with two mattresses.

you play with the hem of your shirt as you sit in your bed by your lonesome. your food sits by you, untouched. you dont feel like eating. the weight on the bed shifts, and young-il appears into view.

"you're not eating."

you swallow the lump in your throat. "i don't feel like it."

he contemplates, eyes lowered before he looks at you again. "im sorry you had to witness that. I don't want you to be scared of me."

you want to cry. "im not." you whisper, "you.. you had to do what you had to do. to save us."

he blinks, nodding.

"back there, i thought that was it. it's over." you chuckle bitterly. "but you saved me again. you acted on impulse. i could never resent you for it."

your eyes are bloodshot as you look at him again. fat tears roll down your cheeks, and he frowns. he sighs before leaning closer, brushing the tears away. "why are you crying?"

"i wouldn't have survived this far if it wasn't for you." you whisper, voice cracking. "promise me you wouldn't abandon me. promise me you won't die."

his gaze softens. he's silent for a bit, his hand coming to rest on your knee, "i promise."

you sniffle, wiping your tears away. a small smile appears on your face, "i punched thanos."

"thanos?" he frowns, confused before raising his eyebrows in recognition, "ah, the loud kid with the purple hair?"

you nod proudly. "he said something like 'did 001 finally die?' so i punched him."

he laughs heartily— face scrunching cutely, eyes crinkling. he shakes his head fondly before ruffling your hair again. "attagirl."

it makes you blush slightly and you smile, looking down at your lap. he grabs your dinner— the roll sitting next to you and unwraps it, taking out a piece before holding it out, "eat."

you snort before leaning forward and taking a bite. he looks at you for a while with that faraway look in his eyes, before wordlessly continuing to feed you the rest. the words go unsaid. 'what are we doing? why are we so comfortable with each other?'

some sauce sticks to the corner of your mouth. he raises his hand to hold your chin, his thumb gently wiping it off. your breath hitches.

neither of you protest when his thumb brushes across your bottom lip, gaze focused on it like he's hypnotized. he's thinking, mindlessly feeling the plush texture of it.

you've always been impulsive. especially in situations where you shouldn't be. it happens so naturally— how your lips part just slightly. and maybe he's impulsive too, because his thumb slips inside, and his breath hitches as soon as your lips wrap around his thumb.

his gaze raises to meet yours— and you blink almost dazedly. his thumb presses down on your tongue, and he calls out your name in the softest voice.

"i'm too old for you." he whispers, shaking his head in disapproval.

your eyes flutter, and you lean forward, grabbing hold of his wrist. he pulls his thumb out, and you almost whine in protest. to your utter delight, he replaces it with two of his fingers, and your eyes almost roll back as you crawl forward till you're situated on his lap, mouth stuffed with his index and middle finger. you suck on them enthusiastically. they're long and thick and perfect and you don't want them out of your mouth ever again. it elicits a soft moan out of him— and if you could put that sound on repeat for the rest of your life, you'd be happy.

he pulls his fingers out and grabs the back of your head, pulling you close till your foreheads press together. you try to lean forward, to capture his lips with your own. he chuckles slightly, eyes closed, playfully rubbing his nose against yours. you whine.

"so impatient." he whispers, and then his lips are colliding with yours. it would be embarrassing if someone were to catch you two like this— more so for him than for you. thankfully, the others are busy strategizing for the night, and are not looking for either of you.

you moan softly and he bites down on your bottom lip, allowing his tongue to slip into your mouth. it's desperate and reckless and so full of spit— it makes you whimper into his mouth and he pulls you further into himself, as if telling you to shut up. his experience is obvious in the way he kisses, and you follow his lead. unknowingly, your hips start gently grinding against his thigh, and he lets out a soft hiss. he pulls away slightly, strings of saliva connecting your mouths. he licks it away.

"come on, sweetheart," he whispers, one hand coming down to help your hips grind against his thigh, "make yourself feel good— that's it, that's my good girl."

you moan softly, and his free hand clamps your mouth shut. he speeds his movement, clenching and unclenching the muscle of his thigh, guiding your hips to move faster against his lap. it's been so long since you've masturbated— and this is unarguably the hottest situation you've ever been in, with the hottest man you've ever seen. so you're already close. you cry out into his hand, your voice muffled. he understands what you mean and lets you move on your own speed then, pulling your head into the crook of his neck as he whispers soft words of praise into your ear.

the moment he calls you his good girl again, you cum. he muffles the sound with his hand, squeezing his eyes shut before he looks at you intensely. you collapse against him, slightly sweaty, your hands holding onto his shoulders as you cling to him. he runs his hand through your hair, breathing sharply. it's a small moment of bliss in the hell you've found yourself in.

soon, the lights go out, and dread settles in your stomach once you feel his body tensing. player 388 pulls one of the mattresses back slightly, hisses a quick "get under the bed!"

and the next game begins.

A/N: this was incredibly fun to write. i love writing him a little soft and fatherly, so deal with it. i might write a part 2 for this, if anyone wants that. this idea has been in my head for a while. i love him so, so much. this fic is my baby and i truly hope you guys like reading it as much as i liked writing it.

tags! @carolinevoight @lovers-roq @wildtigerlili @menabuser16 @deadlyobsessivfennec @watasinekoru @hanakokunzz @cowuies

[everythingspokenfor]

𝐑𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭 𝐮𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐫 𝐦𝐲 𝐧𝐨𝐬𝐞

Pairing: Bakugou x reader

Summary: Bakugou didn't realise that the hand whose help he rejected would be the one he holds for the rest of his life...

Bakugou who swears to hate your guts from that day he met you, the U.A. entrance exams, calls you an extra getting in his way when you were clearly trying to help him. Who sends you the nastiest side eye when you plop down next to him, on your assigned seat.

Bakugou who refuses to listen to any of your suggestions when you both end up being partners for projects. Drives you to the point that you end up having to go to Aizawa to hopefully get your partner changed.

Bakugou who realises that maybe your input isn't as bad as he originally thought when Aizawa forces you both to communicate. Who won't admit but he does think that you are a smart one, and he would gladly partner up with you again.

Bakugou who is smug when you both end up getting best grades on your project, who is even giddy to work with you. Who spends hours convincing himself that he is only excited because you are smart, that's it.

Bakugou who ends up sparring with you because Kirishima had a mission, who realises that not only are you smart but also strong, using your quirk in a way that leaves him baffled.

Bakugou who still picks fights with you, both still at each other's throats, it's worse now that you both are aware of each other's strengths and weaknesses. You bicker over movies during movie night, bicker over what song to play during trips.

Bakugou who is surprised to find you at his door after he was kidnapped, his mother ecstatic to see a girl coming over to see him, teasing him about finally growing up.

"The hell?! How do you know my address? Stalkin' me?" Bakugou spits out, glaring at you with his arms crossed.

"Aizawa told me, plus I wanted to meet my friend." You chimed, the word 'friend' slightly dragged out. He stared at you in disgust, cringing at your way of establishing friendship.

"Also I got spicy garlic noodles, the one you like." You had him the white bag, passing him the container.

"Did you poison it?" He was already suspicious of your presence in his house, let alone you getting him his favourite noodles.

"Can't even be kind in the economy," you spoke dramatically, hand coming to rest on your forehead, as you pretended to wipe your tears.

"I got it cause I had it few days ago, and it reminded me of you." You professed, looking over to a clock and concluding it was time to leave.

Bakugou who spends the evening thinking about how you thought of him, when you had those noodles, how you remembered how much he liked them, how you got it for him.

Bakugou who acknowledges you as a friend by the end of first year, something a little more by the first half of your second year, the war making him realise just how much everyone mean to him, just how much you mean to him.

Bakugou who somewhat considers the idea that might like you, more than a friend should, and he is scandalized, the possibility of liking you like that makes him avoid you. He doesn't need distractions, doesn't need anything to prevent him from reaching no. 1, so he avoids you.

Bakugou who starts skipping movie nights with you, starts sparring with Kirishima more often, starts taking evening shifts at Best Jeanist's agency to avoid you. Who still cares for you tho, he quietly asks Iida to help you with academics because he knows you'll get anxious, who asks Uraraka to spar with you. Who hopes his distance doesn't affect you, hurt you as much as it hurts him.

Bakugou who is startled when you show up at his door, in the middle of the night, few weeks later, tired of him avoiding you without any explanation, desperate to get him back in your life.

You look tired, eyes red and puffy like you just cried, cheeks sunken.

"I am sorry, whatever I did, I am sorry," You sniffed, eyes glossy with a new wave of tears, Bakugou felt like shit, it was his fault, was the one that wanted to distance himself and here you were apologising.

"I am sorry, I am an idiot," He confessed, hands coming up to press against his forehead," Shouldn't have pushed you awa-." He barely has a chance to continue before you wrap your arms around him, Bakugou shoves his face into the crook of your neck, finally letting go of his tears.

"I just wanna know why, I don't want our friendship to ever break, Suki." You admit, moving past him into his room, pulling him with you.

"I was being stupid," He sighed out tiredly, choosing to simply hold you tightly against his chest.

Bakugou who stays behind during 2nd year prom, with you because you didn't feel like going, who lies about not having a suit when you feel guilty about making him stay with you, both of you spend the night in his dorm, watching movies all night long. If you weren't so enamored by him you would have noticed the burnt orange tie peeking through his closet.

Bakugou who passes you notes during boring lectures, drawing little caricature of people around, writing down little notes. Who messes up his sleep schedule tutoring you before exams, helping you study, sharing his notes.

Bakugou who despite being in 3rd year still argues with you, still squabbling over which movie to watch, what to cook, but there is a difference in the way you look at each other, there is no longer hatred in your eyes, only fondness and maybe something more.

Bakugou who helps you patch up injuries after rough missions, who holds your tightly against his chest when you sob over how sometimes you don't think you are strong enough. Who cleans you up, tucks you in bed and stay with you till you feel better.

Bakugou who never bother entertaining any of the girls that come his way, eyes set on you only. Who no longer gets mad when someone from his friends group points out how much of a lover boy he is. It's true he thinks.

Bakugou who shows you his shoujo manga collection, lets you borrow them only on one condition, that you read them to him, who spends countless evenings with his head resting on your thighs, listening to you read.

Bakugou who takes you to the bookstore on your days off, both of you skipping between the shelves, pulling out a pile of mangas that you end reading all afternoon. He makes a note of the ones you liked, writing them down in his phone.

Bakugou who tags along with the squad to a night out at the club, only because you decided to go, he helps you get ready, picking out your dress, helping with your eyeliner.

The music was loud, too loud for you, Bakugou had his arm around you protecting you from the dancing crowd, if you had it your way you would have pressed yourself in his arms and hide away, but you didn't. Mina was leaving for internship after graduation, you needed to let go for tonight.

You pull away from Bakugou, semi-yelling in his ear about wanting to use the bathroom, he almost pulls away from the group, ready to accompany you there. You shake your head at him, signalling that you'll be back soon.

Finishing up, you leave the bathroom, only to be stopped by a guy your age, he was clearly drunk, slurring his words, trying to move closer, he tried to hold your hand, pulling at it. Had it been any other time, you would have knocked some sense into him. But today you were not feeling well. Your eyes darted around, trying to call someone, before they landed on Bakugou.

Bakugou who immediately starts moving towards you, when he notices your panicked look, slams the glass on to the table, in few wide strides he was already looming over the creep,"The fuck, do you think you are doing?" He growled, sliding a hand behind your back and pulling you onto his chest.

The guy scoffs before looking around in embarrassment, too afraid to stand up to Bakugou he moves away from you both, stumbling out the club.

Bakugou looks down at you, with soft eyes pulling you away from the crowd into a empty hallway. "You gonna be okay?" He asked in hushed tone, stepping back to give you space, but you cried out, hastily hugging him tight, as you breathed unevenly against him.

He wrapped his arms around you, fingers running through your hairs, the other protectively against your back. It took a few minutes for your breath to even out, and you slowly pulled away, slightly cringing at the wet stain on his shirt from your tears and potentially snot.

"I am sorry." You said, voice still a little hoarse from the crying, you didn't move to far away from him, still in his embrace, still in his arms.

"For what?" He queried.

"For being weak, for not being able to defend myself, for the snot on your shirt." You rasped, letting out a bittersweet laugh at your pathetic self.

"Don't ever apologise for asking for help, you are more than capable of taking care of yourself," He spoke softly, pulling a handkerchief out of his pocket and whipping your nose,"you just needed a little help today."

You nod your head, stepping away, glancing towards the crowded hall nervously. "Do you wanna go home, we can leave now." He hums, hand coming to caress your cheek, palm subtly covering your view of the party.

"I would like that." You lean against his palm, Bakugou helps you gather you stuff and move you both out of the club, hand never leaving yours.

Bakugou who is always with you, whether it be sitting in class, or walking in the hallway, at one point even Aizawa stopped berating you for staying in each other's room past curfew.

Staying in each other's room becomes such a prominent habit, that you can no longer distinguish between his and yours. Closets filled with both of your clothes, textbooks and notebooks scattered between shelves.

Bakugou who loves adorning you in his merch, official and unofficial both. Constantly getting you t-shirts with skulls on them, sometimes skulls with bows because he thought they were cute.

Bakugou who gets you tank-tops and t-shirts so similar to his own, that people end up asking if he actually let you borrowed them or if they are new, who gets so smug that people think you are wearing his clothes.

Bakugou who knows how cold your ears get during winter, gets you big, puffy, orange earmuffs, with boom written on the headband connecting them.

Bakugou who makes a habit of hovering over you, ends up giving you scary dog privileges, making any guy avoid you, slots his head into the crook of your neck, when someone tries to flirt with you. Somehow always attached by your side.

Bakugou who gives every guy that tries to ask you a stink eye, glaring at the guy from over your shoulder, scaring away majority of them. You have to lie to all the guys that ask you out for 3rd year prom that you aren't going, only to show up in matching outfits with Bakugou.

Bakugou who shrugs his shoulders when Kirishima questions him 'What's going on between you two?', eyes darting towards you as you shyly duck your head into his neck, Bakugou leans down pressing a kiss against your forehead.

Bakugou who confesses to you few months after your graduation, tickles your side relentlessly when you pretend to think about his proposal, you both quite down as he presses your foreheads together, breaths heavy as you wind down. You murmur a 'yes' before leaping in to kiss him.

[nanenna]

No one: Absolutely not a single person: Me: TIME FOR SAD DANNY HOUR! 8D

✨Bad Ending✨

CW: Major character death, child death, dead dove

Seriously, I know the Phandom plays around with death themes a lot but this isn't some cutesy for fun temporary undeath. A child dies permanently, irrevocably, and does not come back in any shape or form. So if that's not your cup of tea please do not click that readmore.

---

Danny had been telling the truth… mostly. He was a clone of Batman (of Bruce), his blood definitely had something wrong with it (it came out of the centrifuge with a green layer), and his DNA was even worse (it nearly bricked the analyzer). But the sample wasn’t degrading like Danny claimed it would. The green layer dissipated quickly, but the rest of his blood simply stayed there and didn’t change while they read over the information he’d provided and ran tests. As many tests as they could, anything to stall Danny for as long as possible.

Danny seemed to feel it, growing ever more anxious the longer it took to get an answer from them. “Just yes or no, you’ve read everything I gave you, you’ve run so many tests, just tell me if you’re willing to give a sample or not.”

“Why a sample? Why not let us help you?” Batman asked.

“Because… because you can’t. You don’t know… he’s the only one…” Danny huffed in frustration. “Please, just… please!”

Batman sighed, but nodded. Danny looked so relieved, Batman truly did believe Danny needed his blood to save a life, just not Danny’s life. Clones are rarely made one at a time, afterall. And when it comes down to it Batman’s goal is always saving lives.

He watched as his sons surreptitiously tossed trackers of various kinds at Danny’s back. Nightwing came over to offer Danny support and give him a slip of paper with a phone number on it, and slipped a tracker under Danny’s hood when he patted him consolingly.

Batman slipped a tracker onto the underside of the stopper he put on the vial full of his blood. Enough to stabilize a clone, hopefully not enough to make more. He sighed, it definitely would be, he just prayed whoever Danny was getting help from didn’t want more clones. “Here.”

“Thank you,” Danny said sincerely, then took off the bag that had been slung across his body and lowered to squat on the floor. From within the bag he pulled out a small styrofoam container, he opened the lid to reveal a small bed of shaved ice. Batman squinted, was the ice tinged green?

While Danny concentrated on carefully nesting the vial in the ice, Batman watched three different trackers sail from across the room to land in the bag. A fourth hit the lip of the bag and bounced off, Red Robin hissed in disappointment.

A phone started ringing.

Danny’s eyes went wide and his lip started trembling. “No,” he whispered harshly. Then with trembling hands he pulled out a phone and stared in horror at the screen. Danny sucked in a breath as he attempted, then finally managed to answer the phone. “Jazz.”

Danny listened for a moment, then fell backwards to sit on the ground, hunched forward as he stared down at the ground between his legs. “No, Jazz please, she can’t be. The ecto-...” He trailed off as he sucked in a shaky breath, the hand not holding the phone came up to cover his eyes. “I didn’t even get to say goodbye.”

Bruce looked away, suddenly feeling guilty for how long they’d spent giving Danny the run around.

“I’m not coming back,” Danny said hollowly.

Bruce looked back over, Danny was still sitting slumped on the floor, the hand that had been over his eyes now laying limply on the ground between his akimbo legs.

“No, Jazz, why would I go back? Vlad couldn’t keep up his end of the deal, I have no reason to keep mine.” He paused, clearly listening to whoever was on the other end of the line. “So what? I’ll figure it out later… No Jazz, YOU don’t understand. It doesn’t matter!” Danny’s legs folded to sit under him, his hunch turning into him leaning forward to be held up by his arm. “I’m not going back, I have nothing to go back to. I’ve lost everything! My home, my friends, and now Dani. I never want to see his face again, if you choose to stay there that’s on you.” He sat up and ended the call, then rose up onto his knees and held the phone up like he was about to smash it. He seemed to think better of it and instead tucked the phone back into his pocket.

“Danny,” Batman started gently, stepping forward.

Danny picked up the little styrofoam box and threw at the wall, it shattered on impact, sending blood, ice, and shards of glass across the floor. The bag followed, hitting the stone with a resounding thwack. He threw his head back and opened his mouth to reveal a wicked set of fangs as he started yelling, one long drawn out note.

A layer of frost splashed across the floor in a circle around Danny. He somehow continued to yell despite not stopping to breathe, the sound somehow twisting into something ear piercing.

Batman stepped back and instinctively covered his ears.

Danny leaned forward, eyes squeezed tightly shut as he continued the yell, something dark flicking from his mouth to little red freckles across the building frost. Blood. It was little droplets of blood. Danny was shredding his own throat in his grief.

Batman rushed to Danny’s side, kneeling on the floor next to the boy and pulling him to lean against his chest. This close he was certain Danny’s yell was going to damage his ears, Bruce only hoped it wouldn’t be permanent.

Danny turned his face to press against Batman’s chest, the yell turning into heart wrenching sobs, thankfully without the power the yell had had. Danny clung to Batman, claws tearing through the cape and armor covering his back. Tears were streaming down his cheeks, freezing Danny’s face to the bat symbol. Bruce started rocking, just letting Danny cry and cry and cry.

💚🦇👻🖤

The next morning Bruce checked over the report he’d made on Danny’s situation to make sure everything made sense and there weren’t any embarrassing typos, then finally sent it to Jim. He leaned back in his office chair and turned to stare out the window. Danny had cried until he’d fallen asleep the night before, sitting on the frozen cave floor as Bruce held him. They’d put the boy to bed after that, but they hadn’t seen hide nor hair of him since. Understandable, it seemed like he’d been under a lot of stress for quite some time, but with as late as the morning had gotten Bruce was beginning to worry.

With a heavy sigh he got up headed for the family wing, Alfred had wisely prepared a room for him after Danny received his news last night. If what he’d said while drowning under that first wave of grief was true then he had no where else to go. And even if he did Alfred would likely keep that room just for him now, just as Dick and Tim and Jason still had rooms in the manor.

Bruce gently knocked on Danny’s door. When no response came he eased the door open and peeked in. The bed was a mess, blankets tossed aside and half falling to the floor. Danny’s shoes were still on the floor next to the bed, the clean clothes lent to Danny were still sitting folded neatly on top of the dresser, untouched. Bruce leaned in a little further to look behind the door, Danny was sitting next to the window, staring listlessly out it.

Bruce cleared his throat, “Good morning, Danny.”

“It’s not,” Danny replied hoarsely.

“No, no I suppose it’s not.” Bruce cringed internally, buried memories of just how raw the world felt when his parents died, what little wasn’t just a long blur. If the other clone, the other Danny was raised next to this one as a twin he can only imagine how that would hurt. He let himself into the room, softly closing the door behind himself. He walked over to the desk and picked up the chair, gently setting it down just across from Danny. “Do you want to talk about him? The other Danny?”

Danny snorted, “It’s Dani with an i, short for Danielle, though she hated being called that about as much as I hate being called Daniel. Guess she got it from me.”

Bruce felt a chill run up his spine. “Got it from you?”

“She wasn’t your clone,” Danny finally looked away from the window, turning his hollow gaze on Bruce, “she was mine.”

Bruce closed his eyes. An original’s relationship with a clone could be very complicated, if they’d been fully aged up they would usually settle on siblings, but if the clone was any younger, and sometimes even if they weren’t, parental feelings could get mixed into that. Danny hadn’t lost a twin, he’d just lost a child.

“It’s how I found out I was a clone, actually, she was so unstable. So were the others, but she was the only one stick around.”

Bruce sat back in his seat heavily, but nodded to show he was still listening.

“It was awful, watching people with my face melt.”

Bruce’s eyes flew back open, melt?! That was not normal!

Danny had gone back to staring out the window, cheek leaning against a hand propped up on the armchair’s arms. “I always thought Dani’d be okay though, even if she also almost melted once. I thought the ecto-dejecto cured her, but it turns out it was just a stop-gap. She wasn’t as old as the others though, guess Vlad stopped aging her when he realized she wasn’t going to be his “perfect son” and all.”

“Rapid aging has been known to cause health problems, but no one who’s had it done to them have lived long enough to know what the long term side effects are.”

Danny nodded. “She was so bright and full of life, so excited to go experience the world.” Danny paused, hand curling into a fist in his lap. “She came back to Amity to celebrate her first birthday…”

Just a baby, even if she were aged up she was still just a baby.

“... and that just happened to be when everything went to shit.”

Silence fell between them then. Bruce wasn’t sure what to say, so like always he simply said nothing. There was a lot they still had to talk about, did Danny really have no home? What were those powers he displayed last night? Who had tried to clone him? Would he please stay? Bruce found himself hoping the answer to that last question was a yes, but he knew logically that Danny needed the support of people he actually knew right now. Bruce could suggest Danny take a shower and change, come downstairs and eat, go outside and get some fresh air, talk and interact and continue living, but Bruce couldn’t bully him into selfcare the way Alfred did for Bruce. Whoever Jazz is might, whoever belonged to the other names in his phone might, but from a practical stranger like Bruce it would only cause Danny more stress.

“You’re welcome to stay here,” Bruce eventually said after the silence had stretched on. Danny blinked owlishly at him. “You didn’t choose how you were born, so far as I’m concerned you’re my son just as much as Damian.”

“I guess,” Danny replied listlessly, turning back to the window.

Bruce stood up, “I know you probably don’t feel hungry right now, but you should eat.” He held a hand out to Danny.

Danny stared at Bruce’s hand for a long moment before finally taking it and standing up, then he allowed Bruce to keep hold of his hand as he led the boy down to the kitchen. It may not seem like much, but it was a start.

Gut Feeling

DPXDC

Commissioner Jim Gordon meets an odd kid in the precinct.

--

“Come on, you really don’t have a way to directly contact Batman?”

Jim smiled. Kids came to the station and asked that all the time. Usually, it was just curiosity and showing them the signal was enough to get them to sign up for the Junior Police program. This one looked a little older than most, teenagers were often “too old” to believe in Batman, but again, give them a little faith now and they’ll never loose it.

“Lookin’ for the Bat, kid?” Jim asked, knowing he was about to make this kid’s –

Jim froze. The kid turned to face him and it was Bruce Wayne. Not playboy billionaire Bruce Wayne, but freshly a teenager Bruce Wayne. The Bruce Wayne who Jim had checked in on time and again from age eight until he ran off on a globetrotting trip to find himself. The little Bruce Wayne with too pale skin and dark bags under his eyes, and not enough love to make up for all the grief weighing him down. And he didn’t look like Damian either, where Bruce was obviously his father but there were distinct traits from his mother. This was a carbon copy of a boy Jim remembered vividly.

“I am.” He even sounded like teenage Bruce. All business, like he was on a mission.

“I might be able to help you, but it’ll take a while.” Jim said and the officer the kid had been talking too gave him an odd look. He waved her off and told the kid to follow him to the commissioner’s office. Normally, he’d be more dramatic, put on more of a show for the kid, but his gut told him this was different, this was important. He offered the kid a styrofoam cup of water then closed the door behind him. “So, what do you need to talk to Batman for?”

“It’s personal. I need to talk to him in person.”

Jim took a sip of coffee from his cup. “He doesn’t appreciate me calling for no reason in the middle of the day.”

“So you do have a direct line?” The kid nearly jumped out of his seat. “If he’s upset, it’ll be my fault, just call him, please.”

“Who should I say wants to talk to him?”

The kid hesitated. “He doesn’t know me, but I have to talk to him.”

Jim frowned. “What’s your name, kid?”

He swallowed and looked like he wasn’t going to answer for a moment. “Danny.”

“Danny…?” Jim wanted a last name but Danny kept quiet. Jim sighed, “He’s likely not going to show up until sundown.”

“I can wait, as long as you guarantee he’ll show.”

“And you’re not going to tell me why you need Batman?” Jim just got a glare in response. “What about one of the other heroes?”

“Only Batman, no one else can help.”

“You sure about that? Not even Superman?”

“Not unless Superman can get me in the same room as Batman.”

“Why’s it so important that you meet him in person?”

“It’s personal.”

Jim liked this less and less by the minute. “Do your parents know you’re here?”

Danny looked away but right when it looked like he wouldn’t say anything he mumbled. “They wouldn’t care anyway.”

After another moment to give the kid time to reconsider, Jim pulled out the Bat-phone. It was a normal Wayne-Tech cell phone, but Jim had been given very specific instructions on how and when to use it. The phone listed all the Gotham Vigilantes without visible numbers so they couldn’t be copied and handed out. He pressed the one for Batman.

“Stand outside, would you?” The kid gave him a look, but followed the request. Jim could see his shadow in the door’s window, not so subtle eavesdropping.

It rang a few times, and Jim sat there awkwardly with a teenager listening to his every move. Finally, a familiar voice picked up the other end of the line. “Commissioner Gordon.”

“Sorry to call you out of the blue Batman, but I’ve got a kid here who needs your help.”

“Who?”

“Says his name is Danny, that you’ve never met him but you’re the only one who can help him.”

“Why?”

“Refuses to tell me.”

“What’s your best guess, Commissioner?”

Jim looked at Danny’s shadow, it looked like he was straining his ears to try and hear what he was saying. Danny had given him almost nothing to work with. Just his name, that he’s never met Batman but needs to talk with him in person. But Jim was here because he listened to his gut. A feeling like when you see a random rock on your neighbor’s doorstep but you’d never go in without an invitation. A feeling like you know what’s in the present and are preparing your surprised face. A feeling like when you cheated on your wife and you know she knows.

“He looks like Bruce Wayne.”

A beat of silence. “What?”

“Danny looks exactly like Bruce when he was a teenager. Exactly the same.” Jim hoped Batman would get it, feel in his gut what Jim felt.

“And he wont say why he’s there?”

“No, and he demands to see you in person.”

“I’ll be there in an hour.”

“10-4.” The line cut off before Jim had finished saying it. He called Danny in again. “He’s on his way.”

Danny glared at him. “If he’s not, if you called some social worker or something, you’ll regret it.”

“I’m sure.” Jim sighed and downed the rest of his now cold coffee.

The sun hadn’t set, but only just barely. Jim ended up taking Danny up to the roof in the end after all, if only to save his window from being broken into. The kid had a red hoodie on, but he was still shivering in the autumn chill and it was just going to get colder by the minute as the sun made its way behind the horizon.

Jim checked his watch and, at exactly an hour from when he called, he acted surprised when Batman and Robin appeared out of nowhere. “Bats.”

“Commissioner.” Batman greeted but his eyes went straight for Danny. “Danny, I assume.”

“Yeah, I…” Danny hesitated, looking at Jim and Robin.

All it took was four words from Batman. “What do you need?”

The kid held out his hand with a flash drive in it. “I’m your clone. My par- The people who made me wanted to make a stronger version of you, but they got ahead of themselves. My DNA is degrading and I’ll die if I don’t get your DNA to stabilize me.”

Holy cow.

“You don’t expect us to believe that, do you?” Robin sneered at him.

“The flash drive has all the info on it. All the data about the cloning process and the, uh, relevant experiments after that.” Batman gave the kid a look. “I didn’t want to waste time on unnecessary data.”

“If what you’re saying is true, why are you here, alone? Are they working on a different solution?”

Danny’s shoulders hiked up. “I’ve been a failure for a while now, I’m not worth the resources and they’d learn more from an autopsy.”

Oof, kid. Jim looked at Batman who seemed to feel the same… if Jim was reading him right.

“So, you wont object to a DNA test?” Robin asked with a cocky head tilt, at least he was relatively easy to read.

“You can try.” Danny said, and then realized what that sounded like. “I mean I wont stop you, but my DNA degrades faster outside my body. You’ll have to take me to whatever lab you plan on using.”

“Then we will.” Batman said and jerked his head towards where they’d probably parked that ridiculous car of his. But then he looked at Jim with a nod. “Commissioner.”

“Batman.” Jim returned the nod. “You’ll tell me how things turn out, yeah?”

“I’ll give you a report.” Batman joked – Jim could tell, it was gut feeling.

[azrielbrainrot]

In the Face of Your Love

Pairing: Azriel x F!Reader

Description: A love confession wasn't in Azriel's plans for the day.

Warnings: a tiny bit of angst

Word Count: 1,3k

Notes: In the face of writer's block I bring you another quick little story (that actually took me entirely too long to write). Hope you enjoy!

No matter how hard he tried Azriel couldn't remember the last time he had been in this situation. That's not to say he had never been confessed to before of course, that was far from the truth, but he didn't quite remember what to do in such a situation.

It didn't help that you were his friend, and because of it, someone he hadn't ever considered as anything more. If it were anyone else, he would probably be searching for the words to let them down as gently as possible, but looking into your expectant eyes, he can't help but wonder why exactly he had never thought about it before.

You were exceedingly beautiful and kind, remarkably intelligent and hard-working. You took care of your friends and helped them to the best of your abilities, always offering them a shoulder to cry on. Even though you weren't a fighter, Azriel was time and time again reminded of just how strong and fearless you were. You were perfect in his eyes, one of the best people he had ever gotten the pleasure of meeting in his centuries of life. He knew all of this as your friend, so how come he never looked deeper into the connection you shared?

Azriel knew it was partly, or mostly really, because of his lack of luck when it came to such things. Spending centuries in love with the same person, out of habit more than anything, pushing away everyone that threatened to make him feel anything of consequence gave him a long list of detachment issues unsurprisingly, and when he thought he could have something special with the middle Archeron sister after finally moving on from Mor only for it to blow up in his face before it even started, he was forced to take a good look at himself and his actions, and upon realizing that he was in no way ready for a relationship even though he felt desperate for it, Azriel came to conclusion that it was best to focus on his work and his friends, and leave such glittering dreams behind him.

That had been almost a decade ago, before he even met you. For the first time since then, he finds himself thinking of what it would be like to wake up next to someone, share his thoughts and dreams with that person, have someone to hold him through the hard times and take care of them in kind. For the first time in years, Azriel wonders if he could deserve someone's love after all.

His hesitation seems to start weighing on your excitement, pretty eyes moving to watch the ground as a heavy breath escapes you, not bearing the sight of his wide hazel eyes anymore. When you look up at him again a bitter smile is etched on your face, one that makes Azriel’s chest feel heavy and constricted.

“You don't have to say anything. I just wanted you to know, it felt like it was eating me alive keeping it to myself.” The humorless laugh you let out brings a furrow to his brows, but you keep going before he finds the right words. “I hope I'm not making things weird between us, nothing really has to change-”

“Wait,” Azriel finds himself calling out when he notices you taking a step back, away from him.

Unfortunately he stays quiet a second too long after and you end up taking yet another step back, your next words even more heartbreaking than before. “It's okay, Az. You really don't have to comfort me.”

“I don't want to comfort you.”

“Oh.”

He grabs onto your arm gently when you go to turn around, intent on walking to the door this time, cursing himself when he notices the wetness gathering in your eyelids.

“Please don't go,” he begs, staring into your eyes, hoping his will show you a glimpse at all the emotions swirling around in his heart, maybe you could make better sense of them than him. “I'm not good with words and I'm even worse with my feelings, but I can try to explain myself if you just give me a moment. Please.”

“Alright.” Your voice is barely above a whisper, your body letting go of most of the tension as you watch him. He drops his hold on you and offers you a small, grateful smile.

“You caught me off guard, I never noticed your feelings for me weren't entirely platonic,” he starts carefully, eyes flickering down towards your hand, wondering for a moment if holding it in his would be too much, too unfair to you.

“Some Spymaster,” you tease him back, a breathy chuckle escaping him and releasing the tension from his body, his hand reaching down to hold yours.

“I gave up on love a long time ago, long before I met you. Things have never worked out for me, partly for my own faults, making me think I just wasn't meant for these things.” The frown that settles over your face makes his heart skip a beat. Cute, it was cute, adorable even. Gods, how had he been so blind? “So, you see, I never stopped to wonder if we could have a relationship beyond our friendship even though I cherish your presence in my life immensely.”

“And now?”

“Now I'm thinking back on all our time spent together, the times we laughed and cried together, the times you cared for me and I cared for you.” This time he's the one to move, except he's taking a step closer to you, the distance feeling too big now. “I'm wondering what it would be like to come home to you every day, to hold you in my arms at night, to take you to every restaurant and bakery shop you talked about, to hold your hand in mine whenever I want.” Azriel squeezes your hand softly, your smile widening at the gesture. His other hand reaches for your cheek, cupping it delicately before continuing in a hushed tone, “Now I'm thinking I really want to know what your lips taste like.”

“Az,” you breathe out, eyes falling on his lips. He leans down and pecks your cheek softly, taking a step back to look into your eyes.

“If you still mean what you said…”

“Of course I do.” It's your turn to squeeze his hand, tugging on it to pull him back closer to you, he finds it extremely hard to resist you, but he wants to do things right.

“Then I want to invite you for dinner tonight,” he says, a weight he didn't realize was there before lifting off his chest when you nod immediately. “I think we should take things slow, for both of our sakes, and I don't want to promise you anything, the last thing I want to do is hurt you, but I want to try. I want to know what it's like to feel loved and give it back in kind.”

Your face lights up, smiling up at him with an intensity that threatens to blind him. Familiar dark thoughts start swirling in his mind, telling him how he would only snuff it out of you, but he does his best to tamper them down.

Azriel knew he loved you, that much was never up for discussion, and when comparing the love he had for you to the love he held for his brothers or the rest of his family, he can only feel disbelief that he had never questioned it. He would never do anything to hurt you, he would give his life for you without question, and was ready to face his fears and faults head-on if it would make him worthy of being by your side.

“It's a date then?”

He smiles even wider, his face hurting with the unfamiliarity of it, bringing your interlocked hands up to his face and dropping a kiss on the back of your hand, heart fluttering in his chest.

“It's a date.”

[spiderfunkz]

HYUN-JU x SHORT!READER

pairings. cho hyun-ju x f!reader

author's note: if u wanna see an x tall!reader click here. as always, my requests for hyun-ju are open! just be sure to read this before sending me an ask🫶🏻 also i've been wanting to write for kang dae-ho, so pleasee send me some ideas for him!!

▸ we love to see a cute height difference in a relationship. hyun-ju's tall, 6ft-ish. she towers over you, you find it intimidating but she finds it funny, how you look so tiny from her perspective.

▸ she treats you like a princess. i believe her love language is acts of service & quality time. she loves being around you and loves spending time with you.

▸ i don't think the height difference would make a huge change in the relationship, but it definitely shows subtly.

▸ like how you have to go on your tippy-toes when you kiss her, how you're usually the small spoon during cuddles, and when hyun-ju's the small spoon your legs hang a little.

▸ it's cute for sure. since she's taller she'll appear more dominant, through her actions you could totally see that.

▸ how she rushes to open doors for you, she'll spoil you with whatever you want; flowers, matching necklaces, rings, or just anything you bat an eye at, hyun-ju gets it immediately. she lends you her coat when you're cold, even if it's oversized on you, she thinks it's adorable.

▸ you of course repay it, in your own way. giving her kisses while cupping cheeks, her hands holding your waist, giving you support as you try to get to her height— kissing her until your lipstick stains her face.

▸ since your clothes are smaller than hers, you share your jewelry or items with her. your purse with the keychain she gave you, a necklace with a pretty butterfly, anything!

▸ if you see her like a specific item— "you wanna keep it? looks really good on you, hyun. so pretty."

▸ most of the sweaters you wear are hers, it's scented like her and it's engraved in your head. it gives you warmth and comfort.

▸ hugs with her are the best. it can cure you like medicine.

▸ when cuddling, she'll let you lay on her chest, hearing her heartbeat while you both stay in comfortable silence. it's one of her favorite moments during the night, just peaceful quiet with the occasional soft whispers from you.

▸ after a long day, she loves to lay her head on yours. and you'd lay your head on her shoulder. it makes for a sweet and genuine moment.

▸ she basically treasures you. that's how all relationships should make you feel, treasured.

▸ if you ever get picked on for your height, i'll say it again— hyun-ju can be really intimidating. like really, really, really intimidating.

▸ ouhhhh, AND SHE'S STRONG. sorry, i just had to mention that. you've basically hit the jackpot.

▸ that also means she can carry you anywhere, regardless of your height or weight. this is what i mean when i say she treats you like a princess. she'll literally pick you up just to tease you, she knows how flustered you can get.

▸ you know how to pick up as well, as in "pick up lines". you're quick with it too. oh and, hyun-ju blushes from her ears. it's just a tiny thing to notice, but it's so cute.

▸ you two would just be the sweetest duo. with the multiple vases full of fresh flowers in your home, framed photos of each other, the 0.5 pictures hyun-ju has saved of you on her phone (she has a whole album for it), the surprised dates. she'd just be so lovely and fun.

[im-constantly-fangirling]

pride and prejudice

Summary: Rafe Cameron is your typical frat boy-- and you hate those types. But what happens when a night out gives you a peek of who Rafe Cameron is behind all of that?

obxau!Rafe x afab!Reader

Word Count: ~3k

Warnings: underage drinking, the word 'rapist' (no one gets raped or anything), cursing, terrible attempts at humor

A/N: This is definitely not a product of me watching pride and prejudice after watching 22nd jump street. Definitely not. I'm planning on making this a series, so stay tuned for more!

Masterlist

You weren’t one for frat parties; you were more of a kickback kind of girl. You’d been to exactly two frat parties during your time in college, and they both disappointed you immensely. But your friend had a thing going on with this one guy, and that guy was best friends with someone from a frat– so for the sake of her love life you put on a frat party-esque outfit. And that’s how you found yourself sipping on a drink, talking to your friend when her almost-boyfriend crashed your conversation with someone.

You were swaying slightly along to the music that was being blasted throughout the house, trying your best not to bump into the severely drunk people that surrounded you. Your friend laughed and grabbed her almost-boyfriend’s arm. “There you are,” she said, slightly slurry. “I was having so much fun without you!”

He laughed and poked her nose. “Just wanted to introduce my favorite girl to my favorite guy. This,” he said, pointing at his friend, “Is Rafe Cameron.” 

You let your eyes roam over Rafe Cameron as he shook your friend’s hand. Typical frat boy, you thought. Loose-fitting shirt, black pants, slightly unkempt hair, rings. All he was missing was a silver chain and earrings and he’d be the poster boy for a homewrecker’s association. He extended his hand to you, but your body lagged momentarily. Rafe Cameron. Rafe Cameron. 

He probably was the poster boy for a homewrecker’s association.

“Wait,” you said, hesitating. “Rafe Cameron? I’ve heard of you!”

He smirked a little. “I figured.”

You almost rolled your eyes. Arrogant. Should have known. You shook his hand out of respect, but you weren’t too eager to do more than that. 

Rafe wasn’t on the same page. “So what’s your name?” he slightly shouted over the music.

You gave him your name and took a sip of your drink from your silo cup. You elbowed your friend. “You just about done for tonight? If you drink even a drop more I feel like I’m gonna have to airlift you out of here.”

Your friend laughed and shrugged before looking at her almost-boyfriend. “But I’m having so much fun!”

He put his arm around her loosely, and they both drunkenly grinned at each other. You looked at Rafe and fake gagged. “They’re disgusting. Especially him, just cause I’m not gonna insult her.”

“He never told me his girl had such a beautiful friend, you know,” Rafe said, his hand reaching up to comb through his hair. Your eyes trailed his arm, watching as his short sleeve fell back and exposed his bicep– and then you remembered whose arm you were just staring at, and looked back at his face. 

Judging by his smile, he knew you were looking. 

“Don’t waste your lines on me, Rafe Cameron. I’m not gonna sleep with you,” you retorted.

“Who said I wanted to?” he teased, crossing his arms.

You pursed your lips. “So is that how you greet everything with a pulse that walks through your door?”

Rafe chuckled and took half a step closer to you. “That’s how I greet people I find interesting.”

“Aha so you do wanna sleep with me!” you exclaimed. “Oh, how I love being correct.”

Rafe rolled his eyes. “Yeah, must not be a regular occurrence with how excited you are.”

You pouted at him, swatting at his shoulder. “That’s not very welcoming of you. I thought the job of a host was to be kind to their guests?”

“You don’t seem like you want to be my guest,” Rafe said, a slight implication in his voice. He took your red silo cup out of your hand. “But I’ll give you some time to change your mind.”

You tilted your head at him. “I’m not that easy, Cameron.”

“I like a challenge.” He took a sip of your drink, eyes wincing. “Holy shit, this is strong!”

“Yeah, I can’t hold my liquor for shit, but I sure love to try.” You took your drink back from Rafe. “Thank you for leaving behind exactly two drops,” you said sarcastically.

Rafe put up his hands in mock surrender. “Relax, I’ll get you a refill.”

You smiled at him with a poisonous smile. “Better get hoppin’, Cameron.”

“You’re not gonna come with?” He questioned. You started nodding when, out of the corner of your eye, you saw your friend and her almost-boyfriend making out, their hands wandering. When you looked back at Rafe, he looked like he could barely hold in his laughter.

“Yeah, yeah, I’ll come,” you said, resigned. Rafe laughed, his alcohol-tinged breath fanning over your face lightly. “Shut it before I tackle you.”

“Yes ma’am,” he said, turning to walk toward the drink table. 

‧͙⁺˚･༓☾:･ﾟ✧:･ﾟ✧‧͙⁺˚･༓☾:･ﾟ✧:･ﾟ✧‧͙⁺˚･༓☾:･ﾟ✧:･ﾟ✧‧͙⁺˚･༓☾:･ﾟ✧:･ﾟ✧‧͙⁺˚･༓☾:･ﾟ

You and Rafe had finally fought through the sluggish heap of college students, reaching the kitchen only to find mostly empty bottles. Rafe put his hands on his hips and hummed to himself. “Actually,” he said, “Wait here. I’ll go get some from my room. Can’t let a pretty girl walk around here without a drink.”

You smiled at him slightly. “Flattery isn’t gonna get you anywhere, Cameron.”

“Not with that attitude it won’t,” he said before he disappeared into the throng of students, making his way to the stairs. You just pulled your phone out and stood in the corner, hoping that no one would bump into you. 

Your phone vibrated with a text from your friend. 

Gojng bck to his place, get hom cafe! ill pay u back 4 uberrrrrr 

That girl really needs to pace her drinks, you thought to yourself. Crossing your arms around yourself, you tried to blend into the dark corner of the kitchen you planted yourself in. Maybe just one drink with Rafe and then I’ll go home. 

As if on cue, you felt a slight poke on your right shoulder. You turned to find Rafe standing with two cups, filled almost to the brim with coke and god knows what else. “I have returned,” he said.

“Very medieval of you,” you teased, taking the glass from him. “What’s in it, exactly?”

“Just some Tito’s and coke. Can’t go wrong there,” Rafe said, taking a sip of his drink.

You looked into the brown liquid and, when you noticed no bubbles or anything else strange, you took a little sip. “I’ll give you that one. Sometimes basic is good.”

“Woah, doth my ears misunderstand? Art thou agreeing with me?” Rafe said sarcastically.

You laughed. “It’s just the alcohol, alright? I don’t usually have more than two shots, and right now I’m no shot number three.”

Rafe laughed, pinching the bridge of his nose. “You’re such a lightweight!”

An immediate, stubborn fire lit in your stomach at those words. “Hey! You might be right but would a lightweight do this?” You brought the cup to your lips and chugged the slightly bitter drink, ignoring the ache in your throat from the sheer volume of liquid. 

“I could do better than that,” Rafe countered, downing his drink in three large sips. You watched his Adam’s apple bob slightly. You hated to think it, but you saw the appeal. The sarcasm, charm, chill attitude– and it didn’t help that it was attached to such a nice body.

You definitely drank too much. 

“Let’s pour another then, mister big shot!” you slurred slightly. Fuck, my head hurts a little. 

Rafe shook his head vigorously. “I don’t think that’s the best idea. You’ve just had five shots.”

Your eyebrows shot up to your forehead. “There were two shots in there?”

Rafe leaned in, just a few inches between your faces. “And that was me restraining myself,” he said in a low voice. “I think I win our alcoholic contest, sweetheart.”

You felt a slight blush creep into your face. It’s just the alcohol, you thought. It’s definitely not his voice. 

“Well,” you slurred. “I should probably head home anyway. My lovely friend and her make out partner have decided to abandon me high and dry, so it’s not like I’ve got much entertainment here anyway.”

“Okay, now I’m offended. I’m not entertaining?” Rafe put his hand on his chest in mock hurt. “Let me call you an Uber, then.”

You cocked an eyebrow. “You think chivalry is gonna get you in my good graces, Cameron?”

He shook his head. “I know it will.” He pulled out his phone, the brightness illuminating his face slightly. You could see every crevice of his pores, his plush lips—

I need to go home, you thought. Too much drink. Toooooo much. You shook your head and then immediately winced, regretting the sudden movement. 

“You okay?” Rafe asked. 

You nodded your head lightly. “Yeah my head is just spinning reallllyyyyyy fast,” you said, chuckling. “It’s like my head is moving and my brain is taking a bit to catch up with me.”

Rafe put his phone in his back pocket. “Alright, how about we get you sobered up a little before I send you home, alright? I don’t need the RAs to get you in trouble for drinking.” He lightly grabbed your upper forearm and guided you out of the kitchen before you stopped him.

“Wait, Rafe,” you said, your eyes wide. “I’m really really dizzy.” You blinked your eyes open and close over and over again, as if that would get the alcohol to process through your system faster. “I don’t wanna walk.” I probably look like a clutz right now. In front of Rafe Cameron, no less. 

Rafe sighed a little before he guided you to lean all of your body weight into his side. “Come on, let’s go sit on the couch, alright?”

You shook your head. “Noooo I don’t want to,” you slurred, your head throbbing at this point. “Too many people there. It’s embarrassing,” you whined. I wanna go home, I don’t want anyone to see me like this, you thought to yourself.

“You wanna go upstairs then? There’s no one in my room.” Rafe put his arm around your shoulder, and you leaned into his support, your face falling into the space between his neck and shoulder. You could smell his cologne just slightly, and you had to give it to him– he picked out some good cologne. He smelled just lightly of sandalwood and pine. It distracted you for a little bit before you remembered to respond.

“Okay, but if you kidnap me then I’m gonna be sooooo mad at you.”

‧͙⁺˚･༓☾:･ﾟ✧:･ﾟ✧‧͙⁺˚･༓☾:･ﾟ✧:･ﾟ✧‧͙⁺˚･༓☾:･ﾟ✧:･ﾟ✧‧͙⁺˚･༓☾:･ﾟ✧:･ﾟ✧‧͙⁺˚･༓☾:･ﾟ

When Rafe got to the stairs, he looked at you and the stairs and back at you again. “So how do you want to do this?”

You shook your head in the crook of his neck, frustrated. “I don’t knowww,” you whined. “My brain isn’t working right now and I hate it, I hate it, I hate–”

“Alright, sweetheart, how about I just carry you up the stairs? You don’t have to do anything, you just have to sleep a little, okay? I promise the second you wake up I’ll drive you home.”

You hummed for a really long time, harmonizing to Phantom of the Opera. “I’m so sorry for being this annoying,” you started rambling. “I don’t really drink this much and like I wanna take care of myself but it’s so frustrating cause I tell my legs to move and they just don’t- ah!”

Rafe put his hands under your knees, lifting you up and climbing the stairs, weaving in and out of the small groups of people who were standing on the staircase. “It’s okay, trust me. You’re not an annoying drunk, you’re kinda funny.” He poked the area behind your knee and you snorted. “Woah, what was that sound?” he asked you.

You clutched his shirt and buried yourself into his neck even deeper than before. “If I hear a word about this tomorrow, I’m going to order an Osama bin Laden level hit squad on you, you hear me Cameron? I’m anti-gun but I’ll change my mind just to get rid of you.”

“Harsh words from the girl who couldn’t figure out a flight of stairs,” Rafe teased you. 

He brought you down the hallway, and the loud noises of the party slowly started getting a little quieter. The lights were off in this part of the house, and you found the dark a welcome cool for your pupils. Your eyes closed. 

“You doing alright there?” Rafe asked you. He leaned all your weight onto his one hand and thigh and you heard the turn of a doorknob– and then the click of the door as it shut behind you. 

“Don’t kidnap me, Cameron,” you slurred. “Remember. Osama bin Laden hit squad.”

Rafe chuckled, and you felt the vibrations through his chest. “Relax, sweetheart. I know some people think I’m a dick, but I’m not a rapist.” He lowered you to what you could feel was a bed and a slightly wrinkled comforter of some sort. Comfy. 

You peeked an eye open to look at him. “That’s what a rapist might say.” Rafe’s face was still a little close to you, having just put you on his bed, and you couldn’t stop your eyes from wandering to his lips. And then back to his eyes when you remembered who he was. And then back down to his lips when you forgot. 

“You talk a lot, don’t you?” Rafe commented, making no move to get away from you. Rather, he did the opposite– he sat on the edge of his bed, leaning his weight onto his thighs. His basketball shorts rode up a little and you could see the slight muscle of it. 

You opened both of your eyes and found yourself in a small, secluded room. The only light source was his desk lamp in the corner, the soft yellow light giving the area a cozy glow. He had a few basketball posters up on the wall across from where you were lying. Typical frat room, you thought. No surprises there. 

You sat up against his headboard and looked Rafe defiantly in his eyes. “Didn’t hear you complaining.”

“Never said I didn’t like it,” Rafe said. “Between the two of us, I think you’re the one who’s got a heart full of hate.”

“Just because I don’t say yes to sleeping with you doesn’t mean I hate you, Cameron,” you said slightly irritated. “Sorry, I don’t fall onto your feet immediately.”

“You don’t hate me, huh?” Rafe said, smirking. “That’s a start.”

“And that’s all it’s gonna be. I’m not easy,” you repeated. “Not much works on me.”

“So what does? Asking for a friend.” Rafe motioned you to scootch over, and you did, cornered between him and the wall. You sat with your back against the headboard, and Rafe sat opposite you, putting his hands behind him. 

You hummed for a really long time. I’ve been humming a lot lately, you thought. “I don’t knooooow,” you drew out. “I’ll tell you if you give me 20 Monopoly dollars.”

“How about 20 Life dollars?” Rafe countered.

“Deal!” you said, laughing. You sighed, the question sobering you up a little bit. “I want a man who’s genuine,” you decided. “I’ve done the whole casual, hook-up thing. I hated it, I always felt used afterward.” You looked at him. “Guess I just want something real for once.”

Rafe didn’t break your eye contact, and you could practically see the gears in his head processing everything you said. 

Shit, you thought. Not very casual and funny of me to just drop this on a frat guy. 

You leaned your head against the headboard, a drunk smile on your face. “But I don’t expect you to get that. Not exactly the fun conversation you wanted to have at your party, right? Hey! Hopefully I don’t remember telling you this tomorrow morning!” You laughed at your own stupidity. “Wait, fuck, if I forget then you might still remember!”

Rafe cleared his throat and got on all fours, reaching behind you to pull up his pillow. You moved forward naturally. “What, are you gonna hit me with it?” you joked with Rafe.

He didn’t laugh, chuckle, give a quip back. Nothing. He just laid the pillow down flat and gestured for you to lay down. You did. “You should get some sleep,” he said solemnly. 

You nodded lightly, happily noticing your head throbbing less than before. When your eyes closed, you felt Rafe’s weight get off of the bed. You didn’t know why, but you felt something clawing at you in your stomach, telling you that you’d fucked up somewhere. He’s helping you, you thought. He’s helping you and you just insulted his character two seconds ago. 

“Wait, Rafe?” you called out. You heard him give a soft grunt in response. “Why’re you being so nice to me?”

There was a pause and you heard him take in a breath. “Guess I’m just a good host,” he said softly, slight jest in his voice. But it was tinged with a heaviness that you hadn’t heard all night. You opened your eyes to find him sitting at his desk, looking at you.

“You know,” you started, the alcohol making you more vulnerable than usual. “That light makes you look really good. Kind of like a painting.”

Rafe chuckled. “You’ve definitely had too much to drink, sweetheart.”

You turned your body to face him. “Maybe. But I’m not gonna remember this tomorrow, so did this even happen?” you said. “Are we in a matrix? Have we been in a simulation this–”

“You sound like a podcast junkie right now,” Rafe said, laughing. You heard less of the heaviness in his voice and rejoiced silently. Frat boy or not, you didn’t like making people sad.

“You’re a little different than I thought you’d be, Cameron.”

Rafe shook his head. “I still fuck anything that moves, don’t worry. And I can hold my alcohol, but we already established that, didn’t we?”

You slapped your hand over your eyes. “Too soon, man. Too soon.” Your eyes started drooping behind your palm, and you yawned. “Wait, if you want I can go sleep on the couch. I don’t wanna take your bed, and you’ve been so nice to me even though I’m like an annoying amount of drunk. It’s the least I can do,” you begged.

“There’s like fifty people on the couch,” Rafe pointed out.

You dragged your hand down your face and pouted, your lower lip jutting out slightly in thought. “Then I can Uber back home. I don’t wanna bother you.” Tears started lining your eyes. 

Rafe rolled his chair next to his bed and grabbed your wrist lightly, drawing your attention. “Listen to me. I’m not letting you Uber home in this condition, and I’m definitely not going to make you try and sleep on a couch that is probably covered in fifty STDs right now. I’ve got no problem with you sleeping here, you hear me? Besides, you seem chill so far. I don’t hate spending time with you, you know.”

You looked at his hand holding your wrist, noting how it dwarfed you. I’m not easy, you reminded yourself. I deserve more than a hook-up ridden frat boy. “Or maybe you just want to hold it over my head that I slept in your room the first night I met you,” you joked, trying to break the tension.

Rafe chuckled. “There’s that, too.”

You brought your hand up to his wrist and gently pried his fingers off of your wrist. “I charge thirty dollars for physical contact, Cameron.”

“You must owe me thousands, then,” he retorted. You laughed.

“Where are you going to sleep?” you asked.

“Will knowing that make you feel better about sleeping here?” he questioned you. When you nodded your head yes, he sighed.

“Wasn’t planning on sleeping anyway. I’ve got an exam in my marketing class tomorrow and I’ve skipped half of the lectures.”

“Hah! Marketing major. That’s what I thought,” you said. But you were content with his answer, and you closed your eyes. 

“Put down your pitchforks, ma’am. I’m an Information Systems major.” You heard Rafe roll his chair back to his desk.

“Not much better, Cameron.” You paused for a second. “But again, thank you. I owe you one.”

“Go to sleep already. You’re gonna need the rest for when I make fun of you in the morning,” said Rafe.

You chuckled lightly, sleep starting to take you over. You muttered quietly, drunkenly: “Goodnight, Rafe.”

[gamarancianne]

Because now this is the tradition to react to this marvellous piece of gold crafted by the hands of a goddess…. Girl girl girl…. YOU DID IT AGAIN. I was hungry and you fed me. With 8k words huh

You’re so much better than me for writing Selene that way. Because it’s so much more interesting for her and the character of the reader. I love the intern battle that she’s living and the fact that this is a bigger problem than just one fight. But yeah your writing and especially this story has been what I seek for in my day. So maybe maybe like Selene says when she knows what a person in love looks like, well she talks about me for you 😍😍😍😍

And cassian is such a sweetheart I love him 🥹🥹🥹. Poor baby gets beaten by his own mate his friend and brother because he loves all of them whereas he didn’t do anything 😭😭. And RUNA omg I too want to punch her or print her face on my fucking punching ball. I cannot wait for the part where Rhysand is going to scold reader but be proud at the same time lol, he’s such a drama queen.

Now speaking of facts : Azriel is an asshole but a fucking messed up and interesting character, like man, please go to therapy or get a hug because it’s starting to get out of hand. I saw a girl on TikTok saying that if men started to go to therapy more, women would have to go less because of them. And when I tell you I couldn’t stop laughing because I thought of Azriel. AND READER IS A BAD ASS CONFIDENT I LOVE HER. ATP change the Azriel x reader to reader x reader because I would let her do things to me.

But again I love you and it’s the best part of my day to react and respond and I love reading your answer too 🫶🏻🫶🏻🫶🏻🫶🏻🫶🏻

Are We Still Friends? — Part Three

Pairing: Reader x Azriel

Summary: Azriel’s attempts at an apology fall short, Cassian’s advice backfires, and confrontations force both you and Azriel to face uncomfortable truths—though not the same ones.

Warnings: angst. a heavy grudge, a male incapable of owning up to his mistakes, a well-meaning but wrong-steering best friend, verbal fighting, physical fighting, brief mentions of blood

Word Count: 8.5k

this was going to be two parts but... for the drama, ive decided to offer a feast and not just a meal

Part Two

✹ ✶ 𖧷 ✶✹ 

Azriel hadn’t meant to let it sit for this long. 

His shadows had been needling him for days, hissing reminders at the edge of his mind: Fix this. He intended to. He just didn’t know how. There were too many eyes on him now, too many people that expected his great, grand apology. 

It was hard to focus on anything else.  Even when he was with Selene, her words barely touched him. His mind was consumed by the unease that gnawed at him, the constant pull of you, somewhere, still angry over what had happened.

Azriel wanted to ask Selene about her words. Why they’d taken root in his mind, why he’d echoed them back to you. But he didn’t. He let Selene talk, smiled when she asked for his opinion, and tried to let the softness of her lips on his drown out the unease.

He didn’t know exactly why it felt so much harder with you— felt harder to argue, felt even harder to apologize. Everything else in his life, every delicate situation, every broken, jagged thing, he could attempt to handle with steady hands. But you—every time he stepped near you lately, it felt like stepping onto unstable ground. One wrong move, and everything shifted beneath him.

His shadows had made sure to remind him, trailing after you through the house, feeding him fragments of your clipped words to Mor, the slam of a cabinet door when you thought no one was paying attention. They weren’t even subtle about it anymore, curling around his ears like smoke, whispering your whereabouts.

He’d tried small things—leaving you treats, a smoothie for breakfast, or a croissant on a plate with your name carefully written on a napkin. But every time he returned to check, they were untouched. Once, he found the croissant flattened and crumpled, as if you’d squeezed it with a tight fist before tossing it back onto the plate. His shadows confirmed you were angry that night, their murmurs suggesting no coincidence in your evening spent with Mor.

Since then, every instinct told him to stay away and retreat, to wait until he’d figured out the right thing to say instead of stumbling through this mess. But waiting had gotten him here, hadn’t it? And now he was scrambling to undo weeks of silence. He thought, maybe, he should have something written out. Something properly planned, so that he knew what he wanted to tell you. But every time he thought about what to say, his mind came up blank. After hours of failure, he’d convinced himself that, with you, it would come naturally. It always had.

Or, at least, that’s what he kept repeating as he made his way downstairs, finding you in the kitchen.

You didn’t look up right away, but you knew he was there. 

“Are you sure you want to be in here without a chaperone?” you said, slicing into an apple slowly. “What if something happens?”

Shadows swirled around his shoulders. Angry, they whispered. As if he didn’t already know.

“Stop,” Azriel said. “Can we just... stop with the comments. Please.”

“Why?” You said, finally tossing a glance his way. “Is it bothering you?”

The look on your face was nothing like he expected. It wasn’t just anger. It was exhaustion, too. He didn’t like it, the way the shadows under your eyes and the stiffness in your shoulders spoke louder than anything you’d said to him in days. Didn’t like that he’d probably been the one to put that exhaustion there.

“Yes,” Azriel finally responded. “It is bothering me.”

You let out a laugh, something low and humorless, and it twisted in his chest. Should he  apologize for making you lose sleep, too? He’d already failed at the rest of it—what was one more thing to add to the pile?

Azriel cleared his throat. “Can we talk?”

“Now you want to talk?”

His fists clenched at his sides. The familiar burn of frustration, the heat of guilt, rose up his throat.  “How was I supposed to talk to you before when you’d just ignore me or say something snarky and leave?”

You stilled at his words and Azriel was almost tempted to embrace the small flicker of relief he felt. He should have apologized sooner, yes, but you had been avoiding him fervently. He convinced himself he wouldn’t have been able to apologize before now, anyways. 

“Okay,” you said, setting the knife down and leaning against the counter. “Well, I’m here now. So what do you want to say?”

Azriel’s eyes flicked to the knife instinctively. It was far enough from your hand that he probably didn’t need to worry. Probably. Not that he thought you’d do anything—though there was that one time Cassian had nearly stabbed him with a butter knife. He’d been significantly less angry than you were now. The memory did nothing to ease Azriel’s nerves. He pushed the image away.

This was it—his chance to fix things. To say all the things he’d been rehearsing in his head. But the words didn’t come. Instead, he found himself saying, “How was the meeting with Keir?”

The second the words left his mouth, he wanted to grab them out of the air and shove them back down his throat.  He could see it in the way your expression shifted—something sharp and disbelieving cutting across your face. Azriel didn’t need his shadows to tell him he’d screwed up again. The words had barely landed, and already he was bracing for the fallout.

“That’s what you wanted to talk about?”

Azriel froze. His shadows curled tighter around him. Stupid, stupid. He swallowed, desperately trying to correct it. There was no going back. “Rhys said I should expect some tension at the next meeting. I wanted the full picture.”

“The full picture?” You repeated darkly.  “Well the full picture wasn’t great, Azriel. Because you weren’t there. And because I was pissed—because of you.”

Azriel nodded, swallowing hard. Idiot. “Right. I shouldn’t have asked that. I should’ve—” He stopped himself. No, he couldn’t fix that now. He needed to focus on what mattered.

“I’m sorry,” he said, finally, the words leaving his mouth like rocks tumbling down a hill. He hated the way it sounded—weak, like he didn’t mean it. But he did. He just didn’t know how to make you believe it. Azriel continued, the apology already unraveling in his head. “For how you feel.”

“Oh,” you said softly, but there was a thick sarcasm in your voice. “You’re sorry for how I feel?”

Azriel rushed to correct himself. “I didn’t mean it like that.”

“Then what did you mean?” You shook your head, letting out a quiet, bitter laugh. “Do you even know what you’re trying to tell me?”

“Yes.”

“Then what are you sorry for?”

Azriel cursed himself for the hundredth time. Why was this so hard?

Because it was you, he heard his own voice reply, because he couldn’t bear the thought of failing you again. He knew he was failing—knew it in the sharp edge of your voice and the way your eyes narrowed every time he opened his mouth. And still, the right thing to say stayed maddeningly out of reach.

“I’m sorry that your feelings got hurt.”

His shadows slowly loosened, trailing down his body like they didn’t want to be associated with him anymore. He didn’t blame them. You blinked slowly at him, that look of exhaustion softening your features.

“That’s not an apology, Azriel. That’s—” You cut yourself off, shaking your head. “You know what? Nevermind.”

Azriel was transported back to the night of the fight, remembering how you’d said similar words then, too. He tried to salvage it again, but you were already moving, wiping the cutting board with a hurried motion. You didn’t notice as your apple, barely sliced, rolled off the counter’s edge. His shadows were there almost instantly, catching the fruit before it fell.

You reached out, and for a brief moment, your shoulders softened as you grabbed it from their hold.

“Where are you going?” Azriel asked. He wondered if his voice sounded as desperate as he felt. As frustrated.

“To train with Cassian,” you replied, still not looking at him. Your hand paused on the counter, and you glanced over your shoulder. “Do you think I should stop by Nesta first? Make sure she’s okay with me being around her mate? I wouldn’t want to ruin their relationship too.”

Azriel’s chest tightened. “Can we stop this?”

“No,” you replied swiftly, and Az could have sworn he heard a crack in your voice. 

And then the silence stretched. You ate the small slices of apple as you put things away, the quiet dragging on as he stood there, still unable to speak. Finally, you stopped and looked at him. He tried to offer a smile, something to soften the weight in the air. But you just frowned.

“Did you expect to wait this out? Wait until I got over it?”

Azriel shook his head, his voice low. “No. I never thought that. I just—”

“Just what?”

“I don’t know what you want me to say.”

You stared at him for a long moment, like you were seeing him for the first time, and the disappointment in your gaze made his chest feel tight. He should have been able to find the right words. But it didn’t matter anymore, not in this moment, not as you let out a small, bitter laugh, nodding as if something inside you had finally broken. 

“Always so afraid of saying the wrong thing that you never say the right one.”

Azriel opened his mouth, desperate to correct himself, to make it right, but the words just wouldn’t come. He had never considered that before—at least, not with you. He’d never thought he needed to say the right things, never cared enough to learn how.

“I never realized how much of an asshole you could be,” you said, with a final, almost dismissive glance. “I guess some females are into that.”

And then you were gone.

✹ ✶ 𖧷 ✶✹ 

Training couldn’t have come at a better time.

You needed to hit something—needed to feel that release. Not in a petty, frustrated way, like slamming your fist into a wall, but in the desperate, raw way that left you aching. It was the only way to escape your frustration and, maybe, remind yourself that you were still you, despite how Azriel made you feel.

And for a while, it worked.

Cassian had spent centuries mastering the language of battle, the unspoken rhythm of war. He could read the tension in a stance, spot when someone's body didn’t follow through with the mind’s intentions. He didn’t get enough credit for it, you thought, his ability to read someone without words. He was looking at you now, with that critical eye, head tilted slightly, like he was waiting for you to crack. 

“Alright,” Cassian grunted as he parried another strike. “What’s on your mind?”

You ducked beneath his swing. “Nothing,” you said, deflecting the question with a swipe of your sword. Too fast, too aggressive.

Cassian dodged it easily, raising a brow. “Right. Because ‘nothing’ is exactly what makes you swing like you’re trying to decapitate me.”

The corner of his mouth quirked up, but you didn’t laugh. You weren’t in the mood for his teasing, no matter how good-natured it was.

“It’s nothing. Seriously.”

He rested the flat of his blade against his shoulder.  “Come on, spit it out before you take my head off for real. I’ll pester you all day.”

You sighed, pacing a few steps away. He’d wait. He definitely would. And there wasn’t much point in pretending anymore—he clearly knew you weren’t fine. Continuing to train like this was useless when your head was so unfocused. Avoiding the topic wasn’t helping either. At this point, everyone knew what was going on. Hell, they all seemed more bothered by it than Azriel.

Still, you’d been dodging these conversations. Talking about it felt...stupid. Saying it out loud would make it real—all the messy, painful feelings you’d been shoving down would be out there, staring back at you like some pitiful mirror. Your conversation with Azriel this morning had only made your bitterness stronger.

But Cassian was watching you, expecting, and it was nice, in a way. Having someone care this much. Maybe it would be easier to talk to him. Mor had helped, sure, but her comfort recently came in the form of dragging Azriel through the dirt. It didn’t actually solve anything.

"It’s this stupid thing with Az," you muttered finally. "I’m starting to feel like he doesn’t actually care about me." 

Cassian leaned on the hilt of his sword. “Well, that’s not true.”

You leveled him with a stare, your body tensing as a surge of frustration ran through you, hot and heavy. “It isn’t? He talked to me for the first time today and didn’t even apologize. Not properly. Just asked about Keir.”

Cassian’s expression softened. “He gets wrapped up in his own head about things. Probably just embarrassed, you know? Doesn’t know how to approach the situation.”

You’d run that possibility through your mind a hundred times. Mor had even said it herself. But it didn’t help with the ache, the anger. It was hard to believe your spymaster—so fearless, so eager to throw himself into the fire—was struggling to talk to a friend. Out of all the hard things Azriel had done, surely a simple apology wasn’t beyond him. You’d forgiven him for so much, had let things go because he was your friend. But you were tired of letting it go. He had the perfect opportunity to apologize, to properly acknowledge how he’d hurt you, and he hadn’t taken it.

“Embarrassed by what? Accusing his friend of something so absurd?”

Cassian tilted his head in subtle agreement, like he too thought the word absurd was right for the situation. “I think Az doesn’t want to be seen as...whatever he thinks people see him as. Like he’s incompetent in love. Or that he can’t handle his shit.” He rolled his shoulders, sighing. “He’s defensive. When he’s cornered, he reacts badly. It’s not about you, Y/n. You know that, right?”

You knew that. Of course you did. But it didn’t feel like a proper explanation this time. It didn’t feel like enough.

“But it feels like it is about me. He listened to her. He took her word, over mine." Your fists clenched involuntarily. "And the way he acted—like I wasn’t worth considering, like my opinion doesn’t matter. I’ve known him for centuries. She—" You paused, taking a breath, "She’s barely been in his life. And he immediately assumes that my care for him is because I just want something from him. That it’s some selfish, self-serving thing. His whole job is to see through lies, Cass. He didn’t even second-guess her.”

“I’m sure he doesn’t actually see it like that. He probably just reacted out of instinct. It’s Azriel, Y/n, he’s complicated. "

“Shit, Cass, way to play sides.”

Cassian sighed, stepping closer. “I’m not playing sides. I’m trying to help. Az makes stupid decisions. Half the time, I don’t think he even understands why. I don’t want you driving yourself crazy trying to figure it out. It’s not worth it.”

“Then what am I supposed to do?” you snapped. “Just wait it out? Move on? That’s not happening.”

The words came out sharper than you intended, and guilt pricked at the edges of your conscience. This wasn’t Cassian’s fault—he didn’t have to ask, didn’t have to care. But lately, your anger over everything—over Az—felt like a thorn lodged so deeply under your skin that the irritation seeped into everything. You were struggling to control it.

It was a small blessing there weren’t any court matters to handle for the time being. Rhys was likely still preoccupied with Keir’s incessant whining about your last outburst.

Still, it felt like acid rising in your throat, a bitter burn you couldn’t swallow down, even as Cassian opened his mouth to respond. The words were spilling out of you before he could say anything.

“I’m not even mad about this one fight anymore,” you started, the grip on your sword slipping as your fingers unfurled. The blade clattered to the ground, the sound loud enough to make Cassian flinch. “It’s everything. All of it. He never apologizes for anything—have you noticed that? Like, ever. And I’ve let it slide because that’s just Azriel, right? Quiet, brooding Azriel, who’s somehow above—”

Cassian raised a palm out. “Alright, alright, stop,” he said. “You’re going to drive yourself crazy. It’s not worth it.”

You exhaled sharply, realizing you were halfway to a full-blown rant.

He stepped closer, giving you a knowing look. “Listen, you can’t force him to apologize properly. You just...can’t. You have to let him come to it on his own.”

Your teeth clenched. “I shouldn’t have to.”

Cassian sighed, rubbing the back of his neck.

“I agree. Believe me, I agree. But until he figures his shit out, maybe we focus on what you can change.”

“Like what?”

“I don’t know. What else is bothering you?”

You let out a humorless laugh. “It would be easier to list what isn’t bothering me right now.”

Cassian tilted his head again, considering. “Does it bother you that Selene sees you as competition?”

You blew a strand of hair out of your face. Did it bother you?

Azriel had believed her instantly—disregarded you with a swiftness that stung. He’d accused you of selfishness, of something you’d never been with him. But Selene’s opinion of you, the thoughts she’d planted in his mind, those bothered you too. You hadn’t realized it until now.

She didn’t know you.

And yet, her words had curled under your skin, sitting heavy and raw, making you ache in a quiet, tired way. Worse, they’d made you overthink every interaction with Azriel since. You’d spent so much of your life trying to be the diplomat, choosing empathy even when it sucked—when it drained you. You wanted to like Selene—gods, you wanted to like the people Azriel cared for, even when it felt impossible. But she hadn’t even given you the time of day.

“I don’t like that I’ve been vilified somehow,” you admitted with a frown. “I don’t want to feel like I’m fighting for his attention or validation. It’s not like that.”

Cassian gave a small, knowing smile. “I know it’s not.”

“It’s not fair.”

“No, it’s not.” 

He paused, clearly mulling something over, then asked, “Do you want to hear what I think?”

You gave him a wary look. “I feel like you’re going to tell me anyway.”

“Correct,” he said, grinning. Then he sobered. “Az aside...I think Selene’s reaction makes sense.”

You blinked at him, incredulous. Was he serious right now? A sharp heat rose in your chest. “Okay, well, that’s clearly choosing sides—”

“Hear me out,” Cassian said quickly. “I mean, look at you, Y/n. I’d be jealous of you too if I were her. You’re beautiful, smart, someone Azriel deeply cares for. Hell, I’d probably be a mess.”

Your lips pressed into a thin line. “So, because I’m so wonderful, I’m responsible for her insecurities?” you asked dryly, arching a brow.

Cassian shook his head. “No. What I’m saying is that this might be the one aspect of the situation you can change. The one thing you have control over. Maybe talking to her would help. Clear the air.”

You mulled over his suggestion. Maybe he had a point. Maybe talking to Selene would help. Not just to ease the tension, but to give Azriel room to come to you—to clear the air between you both. If you did this—if you took the first step—maybe he’d finally take you seriously. Apologize for dismissing you so easily, so carelessly. You could find a way to move on, comfortably, with Selene in his life. Right?

It wasn’t like the situation could get any worse.

"Okay," you murmured, more to yourself than to him. "Yeah. Maybe I’ll talk to her."

✹ ✶ 𖧷 ✶✹ 

Cassian was waiting for Azriel as he stepped out of the townhome, his massive frame leaning against the railing. One glance at the general was enough to confirm it: Cassian wasn’t there to exchange pleasantries. No—Cassian stood with his arms crossed, his wings partially flared, exuding the barely-contained anger Azriel recognized all too well.

“We need to talk,” Cassian said.

Azriel resisted the urge to roll his eyes. He tightened his fists, shadows curling around them instinctively, obscuring his hands from view. Not now. Not tonight. He had no energy for this—not for Cassian’s righteousness or whatever lecture he’d come prepared to deliver.

“I’m not in the mood, Cass,” he said flatly, brushing past him.

“Too bad.” Cassian stepped into his path, blocking him with ease. “I didn’t endure an hour of Mor yelling at me for you to decide you can’t have a conversation.”

Azriel paused, his brow furrowing. “Why was Mor yelling at you?”

Cassian crossed his arms. “Because of you.”

“Great,” Az muttered. “What have I done now?”

“I gave Y/n some advice that, in hindsight, wasn’t great. Mor made the situation a lot clearer for me. Now I’m here to make sure you clean up your mess before anyone else slips.”

The mention of your name made Azriel’s chest ache in a way that felt too raw. He’d told himself he wouldn’t think about you tonight—not your voice, not your expression when he’d spoken to you this morning. But here was Cassian, dragging it all to the surface like a wound being forced open.

“I don’t think this is any of your concern,” Azriel said coldly, stepping around Cassian in a last-ditch effort to leave.

Cassian didn’t budge, spinning on his heel and following. “It is my concern because you’re my friend. And Y/n is my friend.”

Azriel could feel his shadows tighten their hold, whispering, urging him to end this. He wasn’t sure if they meant the conversation with Cassian or the situation entirely. Azriel could only control one of those.

“Cass, leave it alone,” he said, his voice low, barely masking the warning there.

“No,” Cassian responded immediately. “You did something shitty and you need to own up to it, Az.”

Azriel’s jaw tightened. “Sometimes friends fight,” he ground out. “Sometimes we get on each other’s nerves, like you’re getting on mine now. It’ll settle.”

“This isn’t going to ‘settle.’” Cassian’s voice rose. “You didn’t just get on her nerves—you offended her.”

The words hit harder than Azriel had anticipated.

“Because the idea of having feelings for me is so offensive? Am I that repulsive?”

The words slipped out before he could stop them, the question jagged, biting. He hadn’t meant to say that. He wasn’t sure where it had come from. 

Cassian blinked, his anger giving way to confusion for a moment before his brow furrowed. “What the hell are you talking about? Don’t twist this into something it isn’t.”

Azriel’s chest tightened, a sudden rush of heat creeping up his neck. His outburst had come from nowhere, and now, Cassian’s eyes were full of confusion and something else—something close to pity. Azriel felt small under it, a flush of embarrassment prickling down his body. He wanted to look away, to escape.

He needed to leave.

Think later. Process later. Just get out of here.

Azriel squared his shoulders, forcing himself to meet Cassian’s gaze with as much indifference as he could muster. “Are you done now? Selene is waiting for me.”

Cassian stepped closer, his wings flaring in frustration. “Selene can deal with a few lost minutes of Azriel time. We’re talking.”

“No,” Azriel said, voice flat, his gaze turning icy. “You’re talking. I’m leaving.”

He moved to step past Cassian, but the larger male blocked him again.

“Is this some weird self-pity thing?” Cassian demanded, his tone growing sharper. “Thinking you’re not worth being forgiven so you don’t even try?”

Those words hit a nerve. 

Azriel’s anger sparked instantly, snapping through his ribs like a whip. He couldn’t decide if it was directed at Cassian or himself. But Cassian didn’t understand. None of them did.

“Cass, just let it go.”

“No,” Cassian shot back. “You always do this. You make decisions that are selfish. You push people away because you think it’s easier, and it’s not. It’s bullshit.”

It wasn’t easier—it was never easier. But what was Azriel supposed to say? That it was better than risking more damage? That every decision he made, no matter how distant or cold, was the only way he knew how to protect the people he cared about?

“Cassian—”

The slap came out of nowhere.

Azriel’s head snapped to the side, his shadows scattering in shock before reforming around him. Slowly, he turned back to Cassian, his eyes blazing.

“What the hell was that?”

“Sorry,” Cassian said flatly. “Must’ve been the wind.”

Azriel’s lip curled. He opened his mouth to respond, but a second slap landed, harder this time.

“Would you stop that?” Azriel growled, his wings flaring slightly, the shadows around him vibrating with his tone. “Don’t touch me.”

Cassian stepped closer. “Why?” he asked, mockingly. “This is what you deserve, right? If you’re so terrible.”

The third slap was the breaking point.

Azriel’s fist flew, connecting with Cassian’s jaw in a blur of movement. The force sent Cassian stumbling back a step, but he recovered quickly, his retaliation swift—a sharp uppercut to Azriel’s ribs.

They fought like brothers—wild, messy. Not about technique, but about something else. Azriel wasn’t sure why Cassian needed this release, but he could feel it—the desperate need behind every punch. And Azriel… Azriel didn’t realize it at first, but he needed it too.

He was an Illyrian, no matter how many times he tried to convince himself otherwise. Fighting cleared his mind. Whatever Cassian was trying to achieve, whatever he needed to prove, it was working.

Azriel barely registered the sting of each hit. The ache in his ribs, the burn in his muscles—it all blurred into the same tight, unrelenting pressure in his chest. Like there was no room left for air, for thought, for the gnawing guilt that had dug its claws into him and refused to let go. Cassian tackled him to the ground, pinning him, both of them struggling for breath.

“This is stupid!”

“I agree,” Azriel spat, shoving him off. “Get off me.”

“No, you!” Cassian said, pushing himself to his feet. “You’re stupid.”

Azriel sat up slowly, chest heaving as his shadows curled protectively around him. 

Cassian shook his head, wiping blood from his lip. “You’re better than this, Az. So be better and properly fuckin’ apologize. If not for you, for me—so my mate will stop glaring at me every time I say your name.”

Azriel’s gaze dropped to the ground, the weight of Cassian’s words sinking into him like a slow burn. His fists clenched at his sides, but he said nothing. Offered nothing. 

Cassian didn’t stop. “Gods know Y/n has done enough for you. Put up with enough. We’ve all done shitty things. But you know what? You take the hit, you own it, and you try to be better. You can’t lead with self-loathing forever.”

Azriel sat there longer than necessary, long after Cassian had walked away. People passed by—some casting glances his way, most not bothering to look at all—but he didn’t move. Didn’t feel the flicker of shame he might’ve once felt at sitting there, bloodied and bruised, shadows curling restlessly around him.

The sting in his cheekbone from Cassian’s knuckles pulsed dully, but it wasn’t enough to distract him from the gnawing thoughts taking root.

Maybe it wasn’t the fear of you rejecting his apology that held him back. Maybe it was the fear that you wouldn’t.

That you’d accept it. 

That somehow, he’d manage to make it up to you. That things would settle for a while, until he inevitably did something worse. Something irreparable.

He was terrified of succeeding—of pulling you back in, of you continuing to see something in him that he wasn’t. That you’d keep believing in this illusion, this version of him he’d somehow convinced you existed.

For centuries, it felt like he’d been holding his breath, waiting for the inevitable—waiting for you to see him as he truly was. And if he made this right, if you forgave him, it would only give him more time to fail you again.

✹ ✶ 𖧷 ✶✹ 

You were walking without a proper destination in mind.

You’d never been to it, but Azriel had once mentioned that Selene worked at a flower shop near the Palace of Thread and Jewels. He’d first run into her on one of his free days, when he’d stopped by a few of his favorite parts in the city.

This area made sense. It was near his usual route, tucked away in a cozy corner of the city. As the scent of flowers suddenly enveloped you, you heard Selene’s unmistakable voice. Relief surged through you; you’d found the right place. 

You thought back to your conversation with Cassian. You knew you weren’t in the wrong, that this current visit wasn’t expected of you. But it was something you could control. You’d wanted to get to know Selene better anyway. You prepared yourself, putting on a smile and stepping towards the door, but then—

“I mean, is he really worth all that effort?”

This was a voice you didn’t recognize. It curled around you, something about it making your stomach clench. 

A small sigh. “Azriel?”

This time, the voice belonged to Selene. You froze, rooted to the spot. Any inclination to quit eavesdropping washed away at the sound of his name. You felt a tightness in your chest—an almost primal urge to run in there, to stop the conversation before it even began. 

“Yeah,” the second voice pressed, “He’s a freak, Sel. Hot, sure, but a total freak. And so intense all the time.”

For a moment, there was silence. And then, Selene’s voice, almost reluctant, like she was holding back. “Well—”

Her friend interrupted. “And those shadows? Don’t they freak you out?”

A sound of disgust, maybe a shiver, followed her words. Something cold rushed through you, crawling beneath your skin, and for a moment, you didn’t know whether you wanted to shout or run. Or maybe both. Anger churned in your gut, and the calm, composed facade you’d been carefully maintaining on the walk here began to crack, slipping away piece by piece. 

“Hey, knock it off,” Selene replied, her voice soft.  “He surprises you. He’s sweet. He makes me happy.”

Her friend snorted. “Has it been an ego boost for you, then?”

“I mean, yeah,” Selene admitted quietly. “But that’s not all of it. Things with him actually aren’t… great right now. He canceled on me again tonight. I think it’s because he had some kind of fight with Y/n.”

The mention of your name stole the breath from your chest, and your body constricted almost involuntarily. 

Her friend’s voice was full of disbelief as she asked, “He actually told you?”

“No,” Selene said softly, “I—I heard them. I feel really bad, but…”

The next sound was unmistakable—the sharp intake of breath from her friend, a squeal of sorts.

“Did you actually use the listening charm I gave you? You little min—”

Something snapped in you as the words registered. A listening charm. A strange, gross invasion of privacy. And to think you had felt bad standing here, eavesdropping on their conversation in a public store, of all places. You’d been this close to giving her the benefit of the doubt.

You stormed into the shop, the door slamming behind you, and both voices froze. You barely registered Selene’s friend’s wide-eyed realization, the quiet “Oh shit” leaving her lips as she turned toward Selene.

Your focus was on Selene—on her and no one else. She stood there, an image of calm beauty that twisted something deep inside you—a type of beauty that felt somehow wrong, as if it were too polished, too perfect, for the situation. Her dark hair framed her face, her delicate features still and pale as she stared at you. The color drained from her face the moment your gaze locked with hers.

“Do you want to explain what I just heard?” you asked, your voice tight, sharp, biting. “Or should I just tell you what I’ve gathered?”

Silence. 

Her friend opened her mouth to protest, “I don’t think you have any right coming in here and—”

“I think this is a conversation for me and Selene,” you said coldly, not bothering to spare her a glance. 

Selene blinked a few times before she turned her head and offered her friend a small, almost reluctant nod.

“You should go,” she told her quietly. “And put the closed sign on the door, please.”

Her friend hesitated, but with a final glance in your direction, she walked out, the soft click of the door behind her leaving the two of you alone. You didn’t miss the way she’d muttered under her breath as she left, a quiet but very clear “Bitch.”

“Y/n,” Selene said after another moment of silence, her voice tentative, like she was trying to find the right words. “I didn’t know that you were here.”

“Clearly.”

Selene’s movements were stiff, awkward as she fidgeted with the hem of her sleeve, like she didn’t know what to do with her hands now that she was trapped in this uncomfortable moment.  “What are you doing here?”

“I don’t think that matters anymore,” you replied. “I asked you a question. I’d like to know what I just overheard.”

Selene’s ears flushed pink, a deep red that spread across her neck, as she took a deep breath. “I don’t know what you want me to say.”

You could feel your patience unraveling. Of course she didn’t know what to say. She’d been caught in the act. There was no excuse for this.

“You listened to us,” you snapped, the words bitter in your mouth. “You spied on Azriel. Do you just want to skip ahead to how you justify it?”

Her face paled, and for a moment, she looked younger—small, almost fragile. “I wasn’t trying to—”

“Oh please.” The frustration boiled over, flooding your veins with anger you hadn’t realized was possible. Anything you’d felt before this moment paled in comparison. You shouldn’t have asked her to explain. You already knew whatever she said would only make things worse, would only add fuel to the fire that was your growing irritation.

This is stupid. This is ridiculous. How did you get roped into this?

“I know it was wrong!” she said quickly, the words tumbling out. “I know, okay? I shouldn’t have—I shouldn’t have let Runa convince me it was a good idea. But I didn’t know what else to do.”

That had to be the worst excuse you’d ever heard. It wasn’t just the stupidity of it that pissed you off—it was the weakness of it, the desperation in her voice that made you want to scream.  Azriel must be blind. Had he really been so wrapped up in whatever bubble he’d built around her that he couldn’t see the cracks? Was he so fucking love-blind that this—this—was what he was left with?

“What else to do? About what? Surely any other solution would have been better.”

She let out a deep sigh and her shoulders sagged with the motion. “I really like him,  Y/n.”

You snorted, a sound of genuine amusement—more out of sheer disbelief than anything else. You couldn’t help it. “Alright,” you said, dismissing her with a wave of your hand, not buying it for a second. “Don’t start.”

“I do,” Selene said, her voice more insistent now. “I think I might even love him. But it’s hard.”

You shot her an unimpressed look. 

Her voice was louder, more frantic, as she continued. “Azriel doesn’t talk about anything—anything real.”

You didn’t bother hiding the scoff. “Bullshit. Az talks. You just have to be patient. Communicate like a normal fucking partner.”

Her frustration flashed across her face, the defensive crossing of her arms only making her look more like a child. “Do you think I didn’t try that? He doesn’t tell me anything. Not really. He keeps everything locked up so tight—he barely even looks at me sometimes. What was I supposed to do?”

“Maybe not violate his privacy?” 

“You don’t get it.” Her hands trembled as she gestured at you. “He doesn’t talk to me like he talks to you. Do you know what it’s like to be the one he’s supposed to care about but feel like you’re always on the outside? Like there’s this wall between us that I can’t get through, but somehow you can?”

You should’ve walked away then. The urge to just let her talk herself into a hole was strong. But you didn’t.

“You’ve been dating him for a few months,” you said, crossing your arms, your stance slightly defensive. “We’ve been friends for centuries. You can’t expect him to open up to you completely overnight.”

“That’s not the point!” she snapped, her voice rising, a crack of desperation leaking through. For a fleeting second, you almost felt bad for her. A tug of sympathy.

“Then what the hell is the point?” you demanded. “Because from where I’m standing, it looks like you’re just looking for someone to blame. And for some reason, that someone is me. Are you seriously trying to imply I'm somehow responsible for you spying on him?”

Selene flinched, but she didn’t back down. You had to give her credit for that.  “No. I—I don’t know,” she mumbled, her hand tugging at her hair in jerky movements, like she was trying to yank the thoughts from her mind. “I panicked, okay? I didn’t think—I just… I didn’t want to lose him. I thought if I could figure out what was going on, maybe I could fix it. Maybe I could stop feeling like…”

“Like what?” 

“Like I’m always on the outside. Like I’m never going to be enough.”

A part of you wanted to snap back at her, to remind her that this wasn’t a justification, that none of this made it okay. But something about her voice—broken, raw, like a crack that had been growing for too long—slowed your response. Your anger faltered.

“I know it’s insane,” she added, “I know it was wrong, and I feel awful about it. But I didn’t know what else to do. It feels like i’m competing with someone who’s known him longer, who gets to see parts of him I never will. How am I supposed to make space for myself?”

“Still not a good enough excuse,” you bit out. “You can’t just violate his privacy because you’re insecure.”

Selene took a deep breath and met your gaze. There was no fight in them anymore. “Please, just go. Run off and tell Azriel everything. I know you’re probably excited to.”

Her words stung more than they should have.

“Why do you say it like that?” you asked, “Like I’m thrilled to ruin your relationship?”

Selene’s eyes flickered with something sharp. “Aren’t you?”

For a second, you almost wished you could be. Almost.

“No,” you said firmly. “I would never do that to Azriel. I’m not your competition. I’m his friend. I came here to give you the benefit of the doubt because I wanted you two to be happy. But this? This is…” You trailed off, unable to even finish the thought, because it was too much—everything about it felt wrong.

“Crazy?” Selene finished bitterly, shaking her head. “Yeah, I know. Believe me, I know how it looks. But like I said, you don’t get it. You don’t know what it’s like to care about someone so much that you start losing sight of yourself. I think about him, about how much I care about him, and all my instincts go out the window. ”

Selene had always existed a certain way in your mind.

Azriel had seemed lighter when he first mentioned her, a softness in his voice that you hadn’t heard in years. And you’d been happy for him—thrilled, even, at the idea of someone bringing him a bit of joy. You’d wanted to give her the benefit of the doubt, wanted to believe that she could be good for him. You were excited to meet her.

But then Az started to change.

The more he changed, the more Selene shifted in your mind, too. She became untouchable, an image conjured more from your worry than from anything real. You imagined her as someone clingy, someone who demanded all of his attention and made him forget the people who loved him first. Someone full of herself, reveling in the power she had over him.

And then you’d met her.

She wasn’t what you’d expected—though not in the way that might have changed your mind. She wasn’t warm or open, wasn’t eager to charm or connect with Azriel’s family. Instead, she’d clung to him like a second skin, her hands always on his arm, her smile reserved only for him. And maybe it was unfair, but you hadn’t liked the way she’d looked at you, hadn’t liked the guarded, wary edge to her voice when she spoke.

You’d trusted your gut, let it guide you through the uncertainty. And when things fell apart—when the argument between you and Az finally erupted—Selene’s image had shifted again.

She became a villain in your mind, a figure painted in sharp, unforgiving lines. It was easier that way. Easier to picture her whispering in Azriel’s ear, twisting his thoughts, pulling him further away from you. You’d built her into someone cruel, someone who reveled in the divide she’d caused.

But now, standing before her, you saw something else entirely.

Selene didn’t look cruel. She didn’t look smug or victorious. If anything, she looked fragile. There was an unease in her posture, a vulnerability in the way her hands fidgeted at her sides. The guardedness was still there, but it felt more like armor than arrogance.

And for the first time, you questioned how much of the image you’d built of her was real—and how much of it was your own fear, your own concern for Azriel, projected onto her.

“Why did you tell Azriel that I had feelings for him?”

The words slipped out before you could stop them, and you weren’t sure where they came from—but somehow, they lifted a deep weight off your chest.

Her brows furrowed, genuine confusion crossing her face. "What?"

“Why did you tell him that you thought I had feelings for him?”

“I wanted to see what he’d do,” she admitted. 

Disbelief tightened in your chest.  “So you lied to him for fun?”

She shook her head. “No I didn’t.”

“Yes,” you said, the word bitten out, “You told him I had feelings for him.”

“Because you do,” she answered, as though it were the simplest thing in the world, like she understood your feelings better than you did. And for a second—a stupid, fleeting second—you almost believed her.

Selene’s gaze didn’t waver. “I know what a female in love with him looks like,” she said quietly,  her voice soft in a way it wasn’t before. “I see it every day when I look in the mirror.”

Something inside you twisted painfully, a knot of emotions you couldn’t untangle fast enough. You focused on the irritation. 

“Am I wrong?” she continued. “Is he the best part of your day? Do you look forward to talking to him? Can you tell him things you’d never tell anyone else? Do you save bits of good food just so he can try it?”

Your throat felt tight, the words stuck somewhere between anger and disbelief. How had this conversation managed to spin so completely?

The breath you took felt jagged, like your lungs couldn’t quite expand all the way. “That’s not true,” you said. “Azriel and I… We’re friends. That’s all. We’ve been friends for centuries. That’s just—what happens when you’ve known someone that long.”

For a moment, you thought she might apologize, or at least reconsider. Her expression faltered, but instead, she just stared at you.

“Do you really believe that?”

When you didn’t reply, Selene blinked, cleared her throat, and turned away from you, leaning against the counter with a sigh. “This is so pathetic,” she muttered, her voice tinged with bitter amusement. “I’m standing here, basically pushing you to him.”

A sigh slipped past your lips before you could stop it. You hesitated, torn between frustration and a strange sympathy. Against every instinct telling you to be petty, a part of you felt bad for her. She cared about Azriel. Deeply. You were certain of it— unsure of how you knew, but you were certain nonetheless. There was no malice in her voice, just insecurity and raw, unspoken fear.

You hated that you could sense it, but you couldn't ignore it either. You could almost hear Amren in your ear, urging you to walk away, and Mor's voice reminding you that Selene didn’t deserve your kindness. But somehow, you couldn't bring yourself to leave. If Azriel saw something worth loving in Selene, maybe you did too.

“Okay, well, don’t do that,” you muttered, taking a step closer. The urge to comfort her was almost overwhelming—to show her that maybe she could learn and grow from this. “You need to talk to Az, Selene. Just sit down, be open—”

“Stop. Don’t be nice to me,” she snapped, spinning to face you. Her voice was sharp.

She moved as if to push you away, but hadn’t realized how close you’d stepped. The edge of her bracelet caught your cheek, and the sharp sting of metal cut straight through it.

Selene froze, her eyes widening as she took in the line of blood blooming on your cheek. “Oh my gods,” she whispered, her hands hovering uselessly. “I—I didn’t mean—”

You stepped back further, your hand still on your cheek, blood warm against your fingertips. 

This seemed about right, you thought bitterly to yourself. This is what happens when you try to be the bigger person. You were gonna kill Cassian. You were going to wring his godsdamned neck.

Selene’s voice became a rush of apologies, each one more frantic than the last, but your attention was already slipping away. Your gaze fell to the bracelet on her wrist. The metal gleamed, twisting slightly with every motion of her hand. You recognized it instantly.

Azriel had a similar one in his room. On his dresser.

“Is that how you did it?” you asked, pointing to her wrist.

Selene’s face drained of color, guilt flooding her expression. She nodded slowly, her hands shaking as she removed the bracelet and held it out to you, eyes wide and full of regret.

You took it from her fingers and, just for a moment, you almost let yourself fall back into the anger, the hurt. But you didn’t. You exhaled slowly, steadying yourself before shaking your head.

“I’m sorry,” Selene whispered, voice breaking. “I really am. I was— I was just desperate. And Runa kept pushing, and—”

You cut her off with a sharp shake of your head, locking eyes with her. Her voice faded, but it didn’t matter anymore. “You’re not terrible, Selene. But you have terrible friends.”

You turned to leave but paused at the door, glancing back over your shoulder. “I suggest you find new ones.”

You tried to steady yourself as you stepped into the bustling streets of Velaris. The bracelet in your hand was cold against your palm, and the sting of the cut on your cheek throbbed with each beat of your pulse. Everything inside you felt scrambled—emotions tangled, confusion still clouding your mind.

The shuffle of footsteps broke through your fog. You looked up, just in time to hear a sharp voice.

“Ouch, that looks like it stung.” A small chuckle. “Although I’m sure you’re excited to have a reason for the Shadowsinger to tend to you.”

You scanned her. “Runa, right?”

She smirked, crossing her arms. “Yeah, that's me.”

Without hesitation, you found yourself saying, “You gave your friend some hurtful advice.”

Runa shrugged nonchalantly, almost amused. “Oops.”

You held your tongue for a moment, your irritation intensifying the longer you looked at her. Unlike Selene, who had managed to evoke some sympathy, Runa didn’t even come close. She shifted, as if waiting for you to bite.

The silence stretched before she finally broke it with a snide laugh. “Honestly, Selene’s better off without that freak of a boyfriend. She doesn’t need to be wrapped up with shitty court politicians.”

Something in you snapped. Maybe it was the words, maybe it was the whirlwind of emotions from the last half hour, but your patience with her was gone. You inhaled sharply, trying to steady your temper, and placed the bracelet in your pocket.

“Do you know who I am?”

Runa raised an eyebrow, the slightest trace of mockery in her smile. “Uh, yeah. You're an emissary or something, right?” She waved her hand dismissively, as if it didn’t matter.

You closed the distance between you in a few long strides. “Good,” you said, letting the word settle in the air. “I want you to remember that when you report.”

Runa looked confused, her smug attitude faltering. “Report what?” 

You smiled. And then you punched her in the face. 

✹ ✶ 𖧷 ✶✹ 

authors note: fun fact, this was the 6th draft of this!! and this felt like the way to go with the story....gives me some options to exploree. its also so long bc i wanted to keep all the fun scenes together tehehe sorry yall i got carried away

but selene....selene...selene... how i thought about her for a bit. i wanted to avoid making selene a caricature of a soulless mean jealous girl, i think it makes it somehow worse and even better to write knowing she was just incredibly insecure and misguided by people she trusted...doesn’t make anythinggg she did okay but

we out here rly testing our reader with a selene like villain rn. tehehe

also....time to imagine rhys holding nyx on his lap as he tells reader that shes in trouble for fighting a citizen in the open mf streets. rhys was so smug and now he’s like damn…wait a min… our public imagine SUCKSS

thank you for reading!!<3

permanent tag list 🫶🏻: 

@rhysandorian @itsswritten  @lilah-asteria @georgiadixon  @glam-targaryen 

@cheneyq @darkbloodsly @pit-and-the-pen @azrielsbbg @evergreenlark 

@marina468 @azriels-human @book-obsessed124 @bubybubsters @starswholistenanddreamsanswered 

@feyretopia  @ninthcircleofprythian @azrielrot @justyouraveragekleemain @marigold-morelli 

@mrsjna @anarchiii @alittlelostalittlefound @melissat1254 @secretsicanthideanymore

@m4tthewmurd0ck @beardburnsupersoldiers @isnotwhatyourethinking @tothestarsandwhateverend @raginghellfire

@angel-graces-world-of-chaos @acoazlove @paradisebabey @inkedinshadows @mellowmusings

@paankhaleyaaar @curiosandcourioser @thisrandombitch @casiiopea2 @w0nderw0manly

@rottenroyalebooks @jurdanpotter @casiiopea2

[no-144444]

get through it- o.piastri

summary: oscar's there for you after you loose your mom.

pairing: oscar piastri x fem! reader

warning: there is a lot of talk about loosing a parent (specifically a mother) so if you're not up for that right now, please protect yourself :)

୨ৎ⋅୨ৎ⋅୨ৎ⋅୨ৎ⋅୨ৎ⋅୨ৎ⋅୨ৎ⋅

He was there when you got the call. He watched as your eyes widened and your heart sank. He caught you before you fell down on your knees. He was the one holding you when the hospital hung up. 

"It’s alright,” he whispered into your hair. He knew it wasn’t alright. He knew everything was falling apart, but he was going to try and hold it together for you. 

୨ৎ⋅୨ৎ

You just cried. For days. He’d never seen anything like it before. He assumed that’s what he would do in your situation. Your mom was gone. She passed peacefully in the middle of the night. You’d never get to see her again. It crushed you. He held you every single night when you cried yourself to sleep, whispering sweet words, showing that he cared. He was there for you every morning when you’d cry as you got ready for the day, helping you get dressed. He saw how it all weighed you down. He noticed every little change in facial expressions, every nudge of your arm, everything. He was there to protect you, to be there for you. He’d give anything to have more time before training camp came around, and he had to go back to Monaco. 

୨ৎ⋅୨ৎ

“Is everything packed?” you asked, your tone flat, but still caring. You couldn’t come with him. You had a life and a job in New York. He’d spent his entire Christmas with you. And going over to Australia together and meeting his family for the first time was your favourite part of the break. Everything after that was a blur of tears and funerals. 

He nodded. “Leaving in the morning,” he wrapped his arms around your waist, pulling you into him. “You’re sure you’ll be alright.”

You nodded. “I’ll survive. I’ll have Mae anyways.”

Oscar’s sister, Mae, was going to be staying in your apartment as she attended her last year of school right there in the Big Apple, a fun transfer year. 

“I don’t want you to go back to work too soon,” he said in a hushed tone. “Don’t throw yourself into things just because I’m not here to pull you out of them.”

You mumbled. “Mae is on strict orders to text you if I start coming home late,” you mock saluted. 

He sighed, and looked at you in his arms. The love of his life (even if you didn’t know that yet). “I’ll miss you.”

You shook your head, tears forming. “I’ll miss you too.” 

He pulled you into his chest, feeling your laboured breath. “Let it out,” he whispered. You shook your head, pulling away. 

“I’ve cried enough,” you smiled sadly, wiping your eyes. “I just… I want to thank you. For everything you’ve done for me. I… love you.” 

He smiled, bright and big. “I love you too,” he grinned, wrapping an arm around your waist. “And for the record, I’d do it over and over again. Forever. I just want you to be happy.”

You nodded, feeling the tears building again. He meant it. You could tell. You’d wondered how you were going to get through it, the awfulness of the grief almost felt insurmountable, but with Oscar by your side, it was feeling a little better. 

“Come on,” he grumbled against your skin. “Bedtime.” 

୨ৎ⋅୨ৎ⋅୨ৎ⋅୨ৎ⋅୨ৎ⋅୨ৎ⋅୨ৎ⋅

mclaren masterlist

navigation for my blog :)

[reven1c]

Make You Mine

Ceo!Lee Byung Hun x Young!F!Reader

Summary: You and your boyfriend have been dating for almost 2 years under the disapproval of his dad, who wants you for himself. Warnings: 18+ (minors do not interact), age gap (reader is 24, byung hun is 54), smut, unprotected sex, oral, dirty talk, p in v, choking kink

A/N: This is my first time writing something like this and i aint that good at writing so bear with me please. I got the idea from @prinsjam on tiktok!

——————————————————————————

You and your boyfriend have been dating for almost 2 years under the disapproval of his father, Lee Byung Hun, a rich and powerful CEO. You first noticed Byung Hun in one of his events which you attended because your father made you. That day you also met your now-boyfriend. Even though that night you realised how handsome Lee Byung Hun is and only had eyes for him you ended up dating his son.

One day after your 2nd anniversary of your relationship with your boyfriend, as you were chilling watching a movie, suddenly your phone dings with a notification from your boyfriend’s father, Byung Hun or as you called him Mr Lee.

Mr Lee: 20 billion. Leave my son alone.

You read the message stunned and in confusion.

You: I won’t.

You stare at your phone waiting for a message when he starts typing.

Mr Lee: I will double it to 40 billion, leave him alone and break up with him.

He is too old for you!

10 years!!

You: Then? Age doesn’t matter.

The silence between your conversation pierced through the air making you anxious. You were hoping he won’t do anything else since he is really strong and rich and with a snap of his finger anything he wants can happen. Suddenly you freeze when you read his next message

Mr Lee: Then date me, 30 years of age gap, age doesn’t matter right?

You read the message and reread it to understand if you are reading this right.

You: Mr Lee, you clearly know this can’t happen.

Mr. Lee: Why?

You: You are my boyfriend’s father.

Mr. Lee: So?

You start getting angry with his answers-questions and him not being serious. Even though this is not right, in the back of your mind, dating him wouldn’t be a bad idea since from the moment you laid eyes on him you have had a little crush on him. And after realising that you are dating his son, your crush on him never stopped.

Little did you know that the crush you have on him was mutual and since the day he saw you at his event he hasn’t stopped thinking about you, without the fact of his son dating you bothering him.

You: No no this can’t happen.

Are you drunk, Mr. Lee?

Mr. Lee: No, sweetheart, I'm not drunk.

I understand what I am saying.

Inside of you, you were dying of happiness because your “crush” is telling you to date him but on the other hand you were thinking about your boyfriend.

You: No, Mr. Lee, this can’t happen

When you hit send, you stand up from the couch and quickly run to your room to change into something nice and make a visit to Byung Hun’s house to talk in person.

As you finish changing and getting ready, you run out of the house and to your car, and drive to his house.

Byung Hun heard the sound of your car pulling in through the gate and into his driveway. He could notice through the monitor that it was you, and the way you exited your car made him smirk. You walk up to the front door, as he stands from his office chair-- making his way to the door.

You knock on the door and Byung Hun opens the door looking you up and down and noticing your figure and attire. You were wearing a black velvet top open in the front, black pants and your favorite heels, black Louboutins. He was wearing a pair of leather pants, and a silk button down shirt, unbuttoned at the top, revealing his collarbones.

You look into his eyes and say “What? You're just gonna let me stand here? Not gonna let me in?”. Byung Hun chuckles and makes room for you to enter.

You walk towards the couch to sit and he follows you sitting not further away from you.

You both look at each other and you speak up “I came here for a reason”. Byung Hun smirks “Mmhm i realised. So, what are you gonna do?”

“You clearly know this can’t happen” you emphasize the word ‘can’t’.

Byung Hun chuckles with what you just said “Oh come on Y/N we both know that the feeling is mutual. Don't play dumb now” he smirks.

You blush and freeze when you realise that he knows. You stand up and stand in front of him with crossed arms and he chuckles “I see you don’t deny it”

You chuckle ironically “And what if the feeling is mutual. I can’t just leave your son and be with you. That’s fucked up”

“And you know that I am not dumb and have noticed that you don’t love him” he says.

And by that I freeze on the spot “What makes you believe that?”

Byung Hun crosses his arms flexing his muscles “I just know how to read people, especially you” he says while smirking. He did really know how to read you, since the moment he laid eyes on you.

You laugh and you lean down on his level by putting your hands on his knees, your chest being exposed, doing it on purpose of course, “I see you are confident today”

“And I keep noticing that you are not denying the fact that you are not in love with my son” Byung Hun says while looking into your eyes and then catches a glimpse of your chest. He feels himself getting a bit hard and tries to hide it.

You look deep into his eyes and smirk “Like what you see?”

He smirks and nods “Yes, very much, But you are also looking down. Didn’t think I wouldn't notice?” and he chuckles.

You smirk “I guess we are even” Byung Hun chuckles “I guess we are”

You walk over the cabin to pour out a drink for yourself “So what now?”

Byung Hun stands up and walks up to you “Hmm i dont know. Whatever you want” and he smirks.

You also smirk “You remember that i am still with you son?” Byung Hun as much as he hated the fact that you are still with his son and not him, he still wanted you to himself.

Byung Hun chuckles and nods “I do. But I really don't care” and walks closer a few inches separating you.

You look up to his lips and then to his eyes when suddenly Byung Hun brings his two rough hands to your face and finally kisses you.

The kiss was so passionate and gentle that made you melt on your knees and wanted more of him. At that moment you forgot everything even your boyfriend.

“Are you sure about this?” Byung Hun asks and you nod “Yes” and with that he brings his hands to your thighs for you to jump on his arms while kissing you.

The kiss becomes more and more rough while he is taking you to his bedroom and lay you on his bed. He quickly climbs on top of you and pins down your hands while smirking.

“Kiss me, Byung Hun”

His name being called by your lips was the last straw for him and he leans down to kiss your lips more roughly. You let a whimper and he smiles.

Byung Hun clearly didn’t care that his son’s girlfriend was laying on his bed, underneath him, ready to fuck her.

“You are so beautiful like this, sweetheart.” Byung Hun smirks and you blush.

He slowly starts kissing your neck leaving little bites behind until he stops to your breasts “We should take this off right?” and you nod while biting your lip.

He takes off your velvet top and leaves you exposed “Perfect”, he takes a nipple in his mouth making you moan “Oh God”

Byung Hun keeps going down while kissing your skin when he finally stops at the place where you mostly want him. He looks into your eyes and takes off your pants and panties in one swift moment making you gasp.

“Please, Byung Hun” you whine.

“Shh, let me take care of you” he soothes, his voice low. He starts kissing your thighs moving closer and closer to your area when suddenly you feel him licking a stripe through your folds.

He then moves his mouth to your clit making you gasp and moan a bit loud. Byung Hun chuckles, sending vibrations straight to your core and continues by sucking gently. You bring your hands to his hair making him groan.

Suddenly his motions become more harsher and stronger making you a moaning mess. You feel the pit of your stomach building and he notices “You wanna come?” and you nod your head desperately “Please”

“Come for me sweetheart” and with that you come undone on his mouth while Byung Hun is still eating you out. Your body shudders, moaning over and over his name which made him harder.

“Such sweet moans only for me” he smirks and watches you as you try to catch your breath.

“I need more please” you whine

“Anything for my girl” Byung Hun smiles and quickly takes off his clothes.

You watch him and observe his chest and muscles flexing “Like what you see?” he jokes and you laugh.

Byung Hun comes on top of you kissing you “I want you so bad” he whispers and you whimper. He positions himself at your entrance making you gasp.

“If it hurts tell me” he resures you and you nod “I need you inside of me please”

He starts slowly slipping into you with gentle motions “So tight sweetheart” and he groans.

Hearing him say that makes you moan loudly and grab the sheets underneath making you knuckles go white. You always loved his hot and deep voice and always imagined how it would sound in this moment. After a few seconds he starts going faster and instinctively, you wrap your legs around his back and lift your hips up wanting more from you.

“So fucking good. So good only for me” and with that he gets more rougher having you in a hot moaning mess “Oh Byung Hun so so good- Ah”

Byung Hun brings his hand around your neck, choking you a bit, making you gasp and roll your eyes. He smiles at this image and keeps pounding into you without wanting to stop any moment.

“Such a good girl. Only for me. Say you are mine” he says

You try to make your words come out of your mouth but can’t and he notices. Byung Hun with that chokes you a bit more “Say it”

“I- I am- Fuck. All yours- Ah” you say between moans

“Good girl” he smirks and starts slowing down when suddenly he pounds into you hard repeating that a few more times.

At a brief moment you boyfriend comes to mind but quickly throw it away not wanting to think of him when his hot dad is fucking you roughly.

You feel yourself wanting to come “B- Byung Hun I need to-“ and you let out a loud moan. “I know, I know” he takes off his hand from you neck and intertwines them with you hand “Wait for me”

You whine since you can’t keep it anymore “Please, I- Ah I can’t”

Byung Hun feels himself getting closer “So so tight” he groans “You are taking me so well”

You feel a tear slipping and clench your walls making him moan. At this moment your mind is gone wild hearing him moaning, totally forgetting about your boyfriend - his son.

“Come for me” Byung Hun gives the signal and with that you instantly let yourself come undone with a loud moan. He keeps pounding on you this time more harder fucking you through the both of your orgasms, fucking his cum deeper inside of you.

He lets out a loud moan and groans and slowly stops pounding into you and collapses next to you.

He swings his arm around you to bring you closer to him and he kisses your forehead “You did so well” you smile “That was amazing” and snuggle closer to Byung Hun.

[sneepity-snoop-snorpity-sneep]

I would so love to see explorations of these two's dynamic that don't take any easy outs from canon (lmk established canon w/ jttw canon filling in gaps)

like something i keep thinking about is that moment in s5 when mac breaks swk out of the 100-eyed demon's memory spell. like we know by this point in the show that in a lot of ways swk has moved on from mac while mac absolutely has NOT done the same - probly bcuz while to macaque he's only JUST got out of the diyu from which swk sent him to and is pissed about that ON TOP OF being pissed about their fallout post the brotherhood's failed coup and the mountain time-out, for sun wukong its been literal millenia since he killed his once-best friend and while it does seem like he's deliberately isolated himself, he's just had time to get past those events

BUT in the s5 scene he's just gotten mentally yote back into this nasty memory as if he's killing his friend all over again. And when he's pulled out guess who it is!! the same guy who he was just re-living the killing of!! And just around the time post s4 where mac slowly (and i mean SLOWLY) starts oozing into this grumpy acquaintance-of-the-heroes role, when swk has also started slowly reaching out as well. Talk about open old wounds, yeesh.

SWK and mac BOTH have been through the damn ringer in regards to "made some Terrible, Horrible, No-Good, Very Bad Life Choices and there is a proportional reaping to sowing ratio (*or IS there??), but in very different ways with very different results, so the fact that Mac ended up stuck in the past while also deeply and continuously traumatized and haunted said past whereas Wukong actually experienced growth (nvm how the show likes to keep making him commit the sin of Is Bad At Communication On Purpose) kinda makes a lotta sense to me

like both Mac and Wukong got to experience Mythological Chinese Hellish Tortures - SWK's punishment included stuff like being fed hot + molten metals/stones while under the mountain, which are in fact things that happen to souls in the Diyu - it was literally meant to be a sort of 'hell on earth' deal, which also does a lot to explain why he was so pissed at Mac (either for not helping escape OR for somehow leaving him to be captured, its a lil unclear) when he was down there. BUT!! the biggest difference between SWK's hellish mountain prison time and Mac actually going to Diyu is that SWK was let out on parole, and forced into doing a quest that induced character growth

bit of a tangent! this kinda parallels my thoughts on prison systems and corporeal punishment, and that just punishing wrongdoing and calling it good doesn't actually do anything productive. Like I'm american: all the prison and justice system things i know of are NOT designed to facilitate growth or better behavior or redemption. So this could be some projection but i believe it may still be relevant! anyways

Now granted, souls aren't supposed to stay in Diyu. You're basically supposed to be tortured until your karma from your life and choices re-balances itself (I think - anyone more knowledgeable than me reading this??), and then you get reincarnated. But Macaque never got to the reincarnation stage, LBD interrupted the process. It's not super clear whether she freed Mac after he agreed to her deal, or if she just Yoinked the emo monkey back to life and then said "you owe me now sucka", but either way - Mac has effectively been experience nothing but being tortured, which is NOT the kind of thing that actually makes a person change. Proof? look at Wukong in the early quest chapters of JTTW.

Bro keeps getting kicked out of the posse due to old habits re: violence as problem solving - the 5 phases mountain didn't actually make him want improve or self-reflect, both in lmk and jttw, the promise of freedom and a new life is what got that started for him. Also, its unclear how long Macaque was in the Underworld, which is where I got back to my asterisked thingy from up in the previous paragraphs somewhere (lol this is getting long )

*so I tried looking up how long a stint in the Diyu takes, and it really wasn't clear. I learned that there's a 3-year waiting period before a soul gets judged by the 10 kings, and that souls will be punished until they're deemed fit for redemption, but no estimates or anything on how long specific sins/crimes/wrongdoings tend to take to be rebalanced....but it does seem weird to me that if Macaque was resurrected within a century or so to LMK's beginning that he was still down there, because the pilgrim's journey took place in the Tang dynasty, which was over 1300 years ago.

If we're taking Wukong's prison time as a measuring stick, then Macaque has had a MUCH longer sentence. Was this because he rebelled against Heaven too, actually escaped, AND also tried to sabotage the scripture quest? Unclear!! But given how much all the celestial characters seem to hold SWK's pre-journey past against him in lmk despite this being post-redemption for the Monkey King, and themes in both lmk and the novel about heavenly characters being this sort of inefficient bureaucracy, it wouldn't surprise me if the point of Mac's much longer punishment was deliberate miscarriage of Diyu protocol to either keep the two monkeys separate OR to just keep the number of celestial primates running around no higher than one (1).

although granted, the understanding of the underworld's punishments at the time of the Tang dynasty were preeeeetty heavy-handed and not really just punishments from a modern perspective, so I could be completely off-base with my speculation if a long-ass stay in hell was just the standard for reincarnation in the case of serious sins and there was no ulterior reason why Macaque might've spent the last 1300+ years in Diyu

wrenching back around to my original point, experiencing nothing but THAT won't improve a person, which is presumably why one is supposed to be reincarnated afterwards, not just brought back to life by necromancers. Like I agree with some takes I've seen that Macaque is this villainous, conniving, obsessive schemer, but to me that's a feature, not a bug - it makes sense for this character to be the way he is, and now we get to watch him actually get a growth arc! Which honestly, has gotten off to a pretty good start in some ways.

Like, despite Mac's seeming constant state of low self-esteem coped with by attempts to bring everybody else down to a similar level of angst and thus his aversion to being actually sincere if he can avoid it - he really does seem to wind up caring about MK. Like for a while, even when he can recognize that MK is a 'good kid', he still mostly sees him as an extension of SWK, 'just a bit too much like him'. That perception gets sucker punched out of the way after the Samadhi fire and s3 finale, when MK does for his best friend what, to Mac, Wukong wasn't willing to do, and stays with her. And in s4, although he is still very much still relying on being this ominous, mildly antagonistic guy to the heroes, he's actually trying to genuinely communicate something that matters to him to MK, bcuz MK also matters to him now! ...He just sucks at it xD

s4 finale, he's right there with the rest of the squad trying to get wukong out and sort of being a member of the team (altho he is very much still holding the past against wukong specifically, like he hasn't grown THAT much), and this continues in s5, with him actually going more and more out of his way in this season, and once again deliberately being sincere and open with MK for the kid's benefit. not to mention the almost-hand-holding with Wukong at the end.

and on wukong's end, he seems to be getting slowly dragged out of his isolationist, self-sufficiency keep-your-secrets-close-to-your-chest mindset just by virtue of the fact that he now has folks he cares for a LOT, running around doing plot stuff and he's gotta be *with them* to help and protect them - something which is getting REAL good since it now also includes Macaque, with the LBD arc done with and Mac no longer being an active threat to the good guys. Like he's clearly NOT over whatever went down between them and still salty as the Dead Sea, but once he can feasibly do so, Wukong really seems to start trying mend bridges with his old sworn brothers - remember how DBK showed up to their beach cookout with a matching hawaiian shirt and fishing pole? And how in the s2 special, Wukong goes like "I missed that guy"? He's not at odds with his old friends because he dislikes them and doesn't want them around

Both monkeys want to be able to care about the people they used to be free to care about with no baggage or drama. The whole deal with the two of them in canon seems to be they're molasses-in-winter-ing their way towards being ready to Talk About It because they both still care (in different ways) but just really stink at facing the other monkey specifically, and I can't WAIT to see where they go with this next

What are your thoughts on shadowpeach?

Fandom wise? I do not care for it.

Canon wise? I believe in men committing crimes while forming the most toxic, unhealthy attachments to one person could lead to such a dysfunctional relationship that it, eventually, turns into a functional one. And also they’re trans and aspec.

Disclaimer: this is all my opinion and people can do whatever they want, i simply have my gripes with some of the fandom stuff. this is just me explaining what i like and dislike about shadowpeach.

I think the most common thing people fall into when it comes to ships—or shipping in general—is how to domesticate these two characters without fully addressing their flaws, personalities, behavior, and their overall choices throughout the original media/show they come from. 

Macaque and SWK both suffer equally through this mischaracterization: Macaque is often painted as this shy or “edgy” character with little to no ties to his actual character in canon and, more often than not, he is perceived as this “dad” type of character when, in fact, he should not be allowed near children for I fear he will bully them nonstop until they sit there in the corner feeling disheartened and miserable about themselves; Sun Wukong is often portrayed as this dumb himbo with little-to-no means of understanding social cues, not understanding emotions in a way that’s very frustrating, and be this yearning, pining idiot who’s still longing for his childhood crush when he did not hesitate to punch this guy in the face multiple times throughout the show. So when they are paired up together it’s this weird mash of people believing Macaque is the better dad with more understanding of human behavior and Wukong is his dumb, doting husband who’s doing his best and cannot stand up for himself when confronted about things.

The amount of times people choose to make Macaque sympathetic by having Sun Wukong’s family side with Macaque when it comes to Wukong’s actions/choices is so vast I could not count them all on one hand. The common trope of having Princess Iron Fan (Sun Wukong’s sister-in-law) become Macaque’s sworn sister is so disheartening to see for someone who read through Journey To The West and thought of how silly the overall family dynamic of the Demon Bull Family and Sun Wukong’s troops was. Removing Iron Fan as Sun Wukong’s literal sister just to have someone backup Macaque and sympathize with him is funny and a bit silly. 

That being said… the canon version of Shadowpeach and its possibilities are, in fact, very delicious.

Canon wise this is what we know about Sun Wukong and Macaque’s history together: 

Sun Wukong and Macaque meet

The brotherhood is formed after Azure meets Sun Wukong, Macaque tags along with Wukong (note: Macaque is not addressed as “brother” by the characters, only Wukong is)

Macaque tries to warn Wukong about how dealing with Heaven might be a bad idea

They share a peach under a tree; Wukong reassures Macaque this plan will work

Wukong carries on with Azure’s plan anyway (yes, azure lion’s plan, not wukong’s)

The brotherhood is defeated and Wukong gets trapped under a mountain

Presumably no one comes to visit Wukong, only Macaque

During his final visit, Wukong is angry that Macaque is free and can’t see the fact that Wukong was trying to do everything for them and his kingdom

Macaque snaps back at Wukong and calls him an obsessive demon before leaving

They have another fallout and fight

Wukong ends up killing Macaque in the aftermath

500~ years later, Macaque and Wukong fight again with Wukong being more apathetic towards their reunion than Macaque is

Macaque obsesses over Wukong continuously (coughs)

Macaque is biased in his retellings of his and Wukong’s relationship (see: all of shadowplay and the scrolls memories)

They fight (again) throughout S3

They somewhat reconcile by the end of S4

We will address the fact Sun Wukong was groomed into going to war by this former celestial warrior instead of having it be because of his own want to protect his family and friends after Heaven refused to pay him the respect he wanted when he first joined their ranks later. Right now we focus on the fact that Sun Wukong is canonically a person people easily fall in love with (platonically) and have a tendency to want to stay close to regardless of what his future actions will be like and Macaque is sequentially obsessed with him throughout the show.

“The hero and the warrior were like the Sun and the Moon. Their light, a protective glow, shining upon the world. Together, there was nothing that could stop the two of them. Either in the Celestial Realms or on Earth. As time went on, the hero attained power beyond comprehension. As the hero's light grew, so too did his shadow. And soon, the warrior was cast in that shadow. In the darkness, the warrior was forgotten by the hero.”

Fun fact: Macaque is never going to be on par with Sun Wukong’s power and he works best as support than he does a duo-attacker along side Wukong. Wukong is on his own power level and Macaque, while being able of holding his own against enemies, could be stomped to death by Xiaoijiao is he crossed the line.

Macaque’s obsession with Sun Wukong comes from the inability to move on from the past; Macaque wanting things to go back as they were is a subtle theme going through the show — he keeps latching on to biased memories and avoiding the actual problems that caused their relationship to fall apart and it isn’t until Season 3’s big confrontation with Long Xiaojiao’s Samadhi Fire ritual. He realizes he abandoned Wukong during a time of need and proceeds to flee, abandoning him again. 

Macaque has issues. More often than not people call out on Sun Wukong for abandoning Xiaotian or the Monkie Kid Crew all while ignoring the fact Sun Wukong does not purposefully leave Qi Xiaotian, he tries his hardest to make it back in time and is visibly scared/horrified when LBD attacks in his absence. Sun Wukong tries his hardest to comfort Xiaotian while Macaque tries to torment him. 

Regardless, Sun Wukong and Macaque’s relationship is unique to most media’s portrayal of friends turned enemies. Because Wukong does not see Macaque as a threat up until he teams up with Lady Bone Demon — he is only scary by association, not by anything he has done up until that point. You can tell with the way Wukong mocks him and calls him something akin to a puppet during their interaction in Season 3 when Macaque trapped him and Nezha in the ice. 

And even then Macaque doesn’t even bother trying to engage with Wukong in a friendly manner because kindness is for losers HA i’m not apologizing for anything, bye Sun Wukong, you big old LOSER [proceeds to possibly live on the streets and stay homeless until wukong allows him to return to ffm under certain house rules]

You’ll notice that Sun Wukong barely has any opinions on Macaque.

This is because Macaque is favored by the narrative more than Sun Wukong is so we have very little context as to how Sun Wukong genuinely feels towards Macaque. 

Sun Wukong sees Macaque as an annoyance, a bother, a threat, a coward, an imposter and then, finally, an ally. 

But all we get from that is Wukong handing Macaque a peach-flavored ice cream pop as a parallel to him sharing a peach with his old friend back when they were young monkeys before he was trapped under a mountain for 500 years as a result of his abuser’s power hold on him that forced him to fight heaven as a way to “make the world a better place”. 

We love to see it.

Macaque and Wukong’s relationship goes from mutual interest and a supportive friendship established years prior to the original building of the brotherhood to a very weird, uncategorized type of dynamic. The only way to characterize Sun Wukong’s “affection” towards Macaque is, possibly, the same way most people would characterize Macaque to be towards Wukong. Y’know the slightly judgmental actions and eye rolls and scoffs of affection most people write about Macaque when Wukong does something stupid? Yeah.

“But Macaque said “this guy” when Wukong was presenting his plan to defeat Azure—“ yeah have you considered Wukong does a lot of masking in the presence of the entire Monkie Kid Crew and Macaque has a tendency to present himself as this cool persona when in fact he’s just a homeless monkey who’s been crashing on his ex’s couch for the past weeks since the ending of Season 3? 

“OK…. but why QPR Shadowpeach?”

Sun Wukong throughout the course of Journey to the West and all its past and future iterations have always had him be uninterested in both men and women. There are multiple instances where he’s capable of courting women and he instead backs away or does not pay it any mind; aside from this he’s heavily implied to only care about familial love and friendships. He does not see his pilgrim brothers as anything more than family and he views Tripitaka as a mentor rather than someone whom he was chained to. And Azure was his idol and he was groomed by him, and everyone else was viewed to him as a troop — or, y’know, a family.

This and the fact that— both Sun Wukong and Macaque are over a thousand years old. Why on earth would they have a normal type of relationship? Giving them a checklist of what passes on as romantic and platonic when to them the line is so blurred it’s barely existent to them is amusing. 

Sun Wukong and Macaque having their own weird relationship where it changes from frustrated best friends to partners to angry middle aged demons to the tired traumatized immortals who sometimes cuddle while still beating each other up is so deliciously interesting and unhealthy to the point where it is healthy. 

Also Celestial bodies are not the same as mortal bodies; canonically Sun Wukong has transformed into women before and people have addressed him with female-leaning pronouns before. my personal headcanon of sun wukong being genderfluid lves on and now we can have sapphic shadowpeach with transfem macaque.

also im still feverish so if this doesnt make sense then too bad damn im sorry

[megalony]

Drunken Escapades

This is a new Buddie x reader imagine, I know it's been a while but I finally got this finished from my drafts.

I hope you will all like it, please let me know what you think.

Taglist: @justagirlthatlovedtoread @musicistheway @avada-kedavra-bitch-187 @luula @missdreamofendless @bradleybeachbabe @woderfulkawaii @amberpanda99 @daggersquadphantom @marvel-and-chicago-fan @angryknightstatesmantrash @minjix @lyje @kmc1989 @itsmytimetoodream @noonenuts @hiireadstuff @ashie-babie @classyunknownlover @jayyeahthatsme @sp1ritssz @dumb-fawkin-bitch @oliverstarksbae @gimatida @heart-35 @supernaturalstilinski @kyky9103 @gay4hotmilfs @itshamleth @chaoticnosleepinfluencer @gs29 @wh0reforsmutstuff @mel-vaz @natashamea18 @chrisevansdaughter @alexandra848484 @deena-beena-weena @targaryenluvs @kpoplover-19 @marvelmenarebeautiful @gillybear17

@zoeybennett @mrspeacem1nusone @zephyrmonkey @estella-novella @eleventhdoctorsangel @kniselle @senjoritanana @shauna-carsley @dottierose @cfdhouse51 @darkfemme1 @rainechase45 @lolalolsstuff @jupiter1700 @ashdoctor @an-aliens-ghost @lunaroserites @houseoftwistedspirits @callsignwidow @winterreader-nowwriter @reneinii @bellsbomb @western-pyro @itsgigikay @harry-satellite @midsummereve1993 @babyqueen17 @buckyyyismahhlife @sammiejane22 @mrsyixingunicorn10 @op-81-lvr-reblogs @talicat713 @niamhmbt @strawberry-canyon @bieberhoodforever @911fangirlie @hollandxxmix @jasmineee05

Buddie Masterlist

Summary: Everyone goes out to a club for Chimney's bachelor party and Eddie, Evan and (Y/n) intend to make the most of their night. But an argument leads to a fight, a fall and a lot of apologies.

Enjoy.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"Leave it."

"You did not just do that." Eddie's jaw ground tight and his head tilted at an angle as he glared daggers at his boyfriend.

He did not just slap Eddie's hand like he was a child trying to snatch something he shouldn't.

He couldn't help but roll his eyes and ground his jaw when Evan had the nerve to point between him and the buffet Eddie had been trying to sample. Just because everyone wasn't here yet; more specifically, Chimney wasn't here yet. That didn't mean Eddie couldn't sample some of the food. He was starving but he wasn't selfish, he wouldn't eat loads or mess with the buffet, there would be plenty left for everyone else.

"We wait for Chimney." Evan moved to plant both hands down on his hips while he looked around the room again. It had taken him a while to get this room organised and ready and everyone promised they were going to turn up. Even Chimney agreed, considering this party was in his honour, even if he didn't exactly want it in the first place.

Evan didn't want anything being messed with or changed or moved until everyone was here. He had a system, everything had to be exact and Eddie trying the food was going to mess with that system.

"I'm. Hungry." Eddie punctuated each word and snatched a sausage roll before he jogged away when he felt his boyfriend's hand swatting down on his backside.

He would settle for a sausage roll and pray it would tide him over until everyone else arrived.

Reaching out, Eddie snatched a bottle of beer from the other table and plonked down on one of the seats in the corner. He would stay away from the buffet so he didn't get an earful or another slapped behind from his boyfriend.

He and Evan had gotten here early to set up the room, but they knew everyone would be arriving soon.

About five minutes later, the door burst open and they both glanced over to the doorway to see who was the first to arrive. Evan's jaw dropped down and Eddie choked on his beer when they both caught sight of their girlfriend stood in the doorway.

"Wow."

Adrenaline sparked through every vein in (Y/n)'s body as she tried to catch her breath back. Her men were the only ones here; she wasn't late, she was right on time. Her eyes cast down to her outfit as she gasped for air and stepped into the room so the door could shut behind her.

"What, do- do I look okay?"

"You're kidding, right?"

Evan trailed his eyes up and down (Y/n)'s frame at least five times so he could drink her in; he felt like he was drunk already just by looking at her.

She was wearing a blood red dress that stopped in the middle of her thighs, a few inches above her knees. It fanned out around her legs and Evan guessed that if she did a twirl, the dress would fan out in a frill and he would catch sight of her underwear.

The dress was cut into a V-shape down towards her cleavage and had short spaghetti straps over her shoulders, exposing her neck which made Eddie feel like a vampire, desperate to strike.

Her lips were painted a dark shade of red to match her dress and she wore a pair of white flat shoes which meant the boys would tower over her; just the way they liked it.

"You look great… what are you supposed to be?" Evan couldn't resist reaching out for her and reeling her in to his embrace.

His hands found her hips and he squeezed tightly and ducked down to capture her lips and see if they tasted as sweet as she looked. He felt her hands clamp down on his shoulders to steady herself and she roamed her hands up and down his chest when they parted.

"You said eighties, this dress is vintage." She gave a little shrug before she sauntered over towards her other partner whose eyes were glued to her legs as she advanced towards him.

(Y/n) didn't know what to dress up as and she didn't want to go all out in a costume or with make up when she knew it wasn't that kind of party. Rather than picking something or someone to be, (Y/n) just bought an old dress that was from the eighties so she still fit the bill. This would do and she could tell that it was working wonders on her boys already.

When she reached Eddie, she gasped when his hands reached out for her and he dragged her down onto his lap without a second thought. His arms bound around her waist and his lips attached to her neck, biting down harsh enough to leave a bruise in his wake.

"What're you two dressed as?"

Her eyes scanned between the pair of them, soaking them in and assessing what they were wearing and drinking in what they looked like.

Evan had on a plain white shirt that stuck to his chest, outlining his collar bone that stuck out prominently, as did his abs. Over his shirt, he wore a blazer the shade of pastel mint blue with the sleeves rolled up to his elbows and matching trousers that were pulled rather high up on his waist. (Y/n) noticed that the front button on his trousers barely managed to do up, it looked like it would pop open and take someone's eye out at any moment.

But Evan looked raveshing.

And when she turned to look at Eddie who was content heaving hickeys up and down her neck, she noticed he was dressed much the same. A very pale pink button up shirt that had the first few buttons undone. A lovely baby pink jacket and matching trousers and his hair was fluffy and ruffled and looked as soft as a cloud.

"Miami Vice." Eddie murmured into her neck and when he finally lifted his head, (Y/n) twisted to capture him in a kiss. She brought her hand up to brush her thumb across his lower lip, smearing away the make up she left on his already blushing lips.

"Oh."

"Do you want a drink?" Evan motioned towards the door to signal that he would go to the bar and when (Y/n) murmured "Surprise me," she watched a light go off in Evan's eyes.

She felt Eddie chuckling into her neck when Evan sauntered out of the room. Oh, they both knew she was going to regret that later. Evan had a knack for finding the perfect drinks that tasted sweet but were very leathal, especially the cocktails he would find or even make himself.

Eddie leaned back when (Y/n) hopped off his lap and looked around the room with a grin that sparkled like a disco ball.

Why did she have to smile like that? Her smile was infectious. It always had been; it was like a drug to Eddie and he felt like he was drunk already when his girl was dressed like that with a smile that could kill.

His eyes darted down to her ruby red lips more than once until all he could stare at was the way she darted her tongue across to wet them and his breath caught in his throat for a moment. He felt his stomach tensing and pulling inwards and when (Y/n) leaned across to look over the table, Eddie's eyes followed her.

He watched the way her dress moved when she leaned forward and when (Y/n) glanced in his direction and noticed where he was looking, unabashed, she smirked and adjusted the dress a little.

"Don't be doing that." He muttered around the beer bottle in his hand and took a swig before he got up and moved to stand beside her.

"Doing what?" (Y/n) tried to feign innocence, but it didn't work when Eddie towered over her and leaned in. He motioned the bottle in his hand towards her dress and pointed towards her cleavage. He knew she pulled the dress down a little; just enough to give him a good view without being too indiscreet.

(Y/n) shivered when she felt Eddie lean in towards her and she tilted her head up in his direction, but he dipped down to hover his lips over her ear instead.

"Starting something you can't finish; They'll all be here soon. You start teasing, and we'll have to take you somewhere to adjust that dress. Everyone will notice if we slip away."

Eddie had no problems dragging (Y/n) and Evan into a bathroom or finding a room somewhere to cop off in. But he knew that (Y/n) was the one who wouldn't want people thinking that or knowing why the three of them disappeared. She wouldn't want the team to tease them if they snook off to a quiet corner.

She knew what her boys would do. They would mess with her hair and her make up and probably her dress too. It would be obvious what they had been up to if Eddie and Evan dragged her away.

She hummed quietly and turned her head in the direction of the buffet table instead. She didn't even get chance to grab a sandwich before Eddie held her wrist and brought her knuckles to his lips.

"Ah- ah. Buck wants to wait for Chimney… almost lost my arm when I went for a sausage roll."

(Y/n) took a quick glance behind her before she snatched a sausage roll and popped it in her mouth while Eddie reached for a handful of crisps and followed her lead. He wasn't here and no one else had turned up yet; he might not notice a few discrepencies in the food.

It didn't take long for the rest of the group to turn up. Hen and Karen arrived first, swiftly followed by Ravi, Tommy, and finally Chimney who was fashionably late as they'd expected. Although Tommy was the first to leave after only an hour, something that couldn't be helped considering he was on call and his fire house was short staffed.

The room they had booked out was quaint and quiet enough for them, but it became a little too constraining after a while.

Once the food was eaten and everyone was halfway to being drunk, it became tedious to keep filtering in and out of the room to fetch the drinks back and forth. Plus, there was better music and karaoke going on in out in the main bar.

So when Karen drunkenly exclaimed "Let's go have some more fun, out there!" everyone was quick to follow and filter into the bar.

Moving out of that function room and going into the actual bar felt a lot better, it was like everyone could come out of their shells and relax. But it also meant that they all started to filter into their own little groups. (Y/n) wasn't sure where Ravi had gone to, but Karen was near the bar, Hen and Chimney were on kareoke and both (Y/n)'s men were at the bar lining up some more drinks.

(Y/n) couldn't keep up with the amount of shots Evan and Eddie were taking, but she tried. Tonight was a night where they could all let loose. Chris was having a sleepover with friends, they were all free to hang out and drink into oblivion and they would somehow find their way to a taxi to get home. (Y/n) didn't want to be the only one not properly drinking or feel like she was half sober when everyone else was blatently drunk.

A lazy, mostly tipsy smile graced (Y/n)'s lips when she approached her men at the bar. She wriggled her way in between them and folded her arms over the bar just as Evan turned to look down at her.

She felt him shift so he was stood behind her and both his arms encased around her waist while his chin perched on her shoulder so he could look down at her. The way his foot was jittering against the floor and his hands were twitching against her waist made (Y/n)'s head spin. He was so fuelled on alcohol that he was starting to vibrate.

She heard him mumble "There you are, we missed you." Against her neck and the words made her smile. How someone could feel lonely after only three minutes was beyond (Y/n), but she was more than happy to make him feel loved and secure again.

"Want another drink?"

"Hm, I- I don't know where my drink's gone." (Y/n) giggled at the end of her sentence as she looked around the bar and glanced behind her. She wasn't sure where she had last seen her drink or if she had finished it. (Y/n) couldn't even recall what she had been drinking.

Her arms folded over the bar that was slightly damp and sticky with beer, vodka and God knows what else. But she didn't care. She arched her lower back out so her bum was pressing back into Evan while he curved around her like a blanket and continued to add to the hickeys littering her neck that Eddie had started up earlier.

Her fingers drummed against the counter and her lower back arched out while she leaned her head to the left until her cheek was pressing into Eddie's bicep. The contact seemed to bring him out of his dazed, drunken thoughts and a lopsided grin plastered across his face as he leaned down to press a sloppy kiss to her temple.

"Oh, hello." He murmured against her temple while he reached one hand out to flag down the bartender. "Are we having shots?"

That dark, sugary tone took (Y/n) by surprise and she glanced her eyes up to see Eddie's brow was arched up, waiting for a response. His smile was so wide that his eyes were barely open anymore and he flashed his pearly whites in a smile that was clearly intoxicated but still amusing and rather cheeky too.

Somewhere during the evening, Eddie's top buttons had come undone and his blazer sleeves were now rolled up to his elbows. He looked to have one or two marks on his shirt but even in his disshevelled state, he still looked extremely handsome.

"Yes." Evan answered before (Y/n) had the chance and she sighed playfully as Eddie ordered them a round of shots and a tray of cocktails too. So they didn't have to come back to the bar for a while, was clearly the reasoning behind that.

(Y/n) hung her head down and groaned playfully. She wasn't the best at shots. These were either going to make her throw up in the bathroom or they were going to send her mind spinning and effectively wipe the rest of the night from her memory when she woke up in the morning.

She watched the barman place their drinks down on a tray along with six shot glasses which she started to fill up, per Eddie's request.

Once the tray was filled with their drinks, Eddie reached out to take them and (Y/n) noted that he looked somewhat sober when he walked off with the drinks. He wasn't wobbling as much as before, he looked cocky rather than blackout drunk and he wasn't swaying or shaking the tray. He walked with an air of confidence that made (Y/n) smile.

And when she felt Evan's arms finally unbind from her waist to follow after their boyfriend, she moved to walk along behind him. Her steps were slightly uncoordinated and she swayed as she moved, but the room wasn't moving or rocking yet which was a good thing. She could carry on for a bit longer before they would need to call it a night.

She could see Karen was back at the booth they had acquired when they came into the main area of the bar. And Ravi had suddenly appeared out of nowhere once again. They would need some more shots.

"Wanna dance?"

When a rough hand grappled for (Y/n)'s hip and she felt a strange arm pressing into her lower back, (Y/n) quickly snapped her head to the left. She could feel the room spinning as her head turned woozy, but after a moment her vision cleared and she found herself staring at a stranger.

He had a rather wicked smile that showed his teeth and it made his upper lip curl. And the way his eyes were narrowed and raking her up and down made (Y/n) want to adjust her dress and pull the cleavage back up to stop this stranger from leering at her.

Her teeth sank down into her lower lip, trying her best not to frown or glare at this stranger, she didn't want to give the wrong impression or come across as rude.

Her shoulders pulled in and she stepped to the right to add a gap of space between them while she tried to shake her head.

"No, thanks." (Y/n) thought her response was okay, she didn't sound snotty or rude or ungrateful, although she had no reason to be so kind when he simply grabbed her and seemed to think she would automatically agree.

But the arm around her back stayed and his hand seemed to tighten on her hip until his fingers were scrunching up in her dress. And his other hand moved to clamp down around her left wrist which he used to pull her back towards him. He stepped to the left, practically dragging (Y/n) with him as he ticked his head to the side to indicate to the dance floor.

"Come on, you'll enjoy it. I promise." She could smell the alcohol entwined with his words and the way he leered close made her lean back until she was almost bent back over his arm.

Her head desperately looked towards the booth where her partners were as she moved her hand and pushed against his chest.

"No." She managed to give him a shove but he didn't let go of her wrist, causing a slight sting when he tried to yank her back. Her head angled to the side and her eyes desperately locked with Evan just as he finished one of the shots from the tray. "Evan- please!"

She wasn't quite sure what she was begging of him or if her partner could even hear her, but the distress must have been clear on her face. For Evan tossed the shotglass down on the table so it bounced off the tray and clattered beside Ravi who almost jumped up in shock.

The sleeves of Evan's baby blue jacket were bunched up around his elbows, showing off his straining forearms and the veins bulging against his skin as his hands clenched into fists. His head angled down and his jaw locked tight as he stormed towards (Y/n).

He looked dangerous with a mix of confusion, jealousy and a slight drunken haze washing over those deep blue pools and those dark pupils.

"Hands off her. Now." There was something frightening in Evan's tone, but it had (Y/n)'s knees ready to cave in when it was mixed with that dangerous look in his eyes.

She watched with a fluttering heart as Evan stood beside her, close enough that his chest was pressing into her arm and he reached across until his hand clamped around the stranger's much smaller wrist. With a sharp twist, Evan thrust the man's arm to the side once he released (Y/n) and Evan bound his arms around her waist, reeling her towards him instead.

He didn't care who this idiot was or what he thought he was doing. (Y/n) looked worried and she had clearly said no. That meant leave her alone, not try and convince her otherwise.

She felt Evan mutter "You alright?" against her temple to which she nodded and smoothed her hand up and down his chest to try and stop him from starting a fight. They just needed to walk away.

"Back off and leave her alone." Evan reached out and gave the man a shove in his shoulder which successfully knocked him back a few paces towards the dance floor.

He could feel his chest heaving up and down as (Y/n) curled her hands around his bicep and tugged gently to try and coax him back to the booth. They had drinks to down and drunken friends to be around. They didn't need to waste time and energy arguing with an idiot like that who probably wouldn't remember any of this come morning.

Evan allowed (Y/n) to pull him back and a shiver tore down his spine when her hands found his hips and she turned him to face the booth. She gave a little nudge until he started to walk with the feeling of her face pressing up between his shoulder blades and her hot breath fanning against his blazer causing shivers to run up and down his spine.

"You still owe me a dance." (Y/n) could feel those words piercing through her skin as a hand tried to grapple for her hip to pull her back. Which caused him to yank on her dress and almost tear the fabric.

A gasp tore past (Y/n)'s lips as she bashed her arm behind her to whack him and push him away.

She stumbled to the side when Evan whipped around, eyes ablaze with fire and his upper lip curling into a snarl when he realised the man was still trying to pursue her after being warned off.

"Pretty sure I've already told you to fuck off." Despite how many drinks he'd already had, Evan's words were surprisingly clear and his movements were quick and precise. He clenched his hands around the man's shirt and used it as leverage to pull him forward until the tips of his shoes were skidding against the floor.

"Eddie!"

A groan tumbled past Eddie's lips and he rolled his eyes as he quickly choked down the cocktail he'd been drinking before he thrust his glass towards Karen. He swiped his sleeve beneath his mouth, catching the remnants of juice that dribbled past his lips as he weaved out of the booth and aimed for his partners.

His hand found (Y/n)'s shoulder and his eyes swept her up and down, making sure she was alright before he moved to stand beside Evan and gripped his bicep.

"Hey- hey, what's going on?" He gripped Evan's arm tighter and tighter and his other hand moved to press against Evan's chest, trying to nudge him back so he would let go of whoever he was starting a fight with. They were here to have a good time and be drunk with friends, they didn't need to be starting fights and getting themselves kicked out of bars. They weren't teenagers anymore.

"He won't take no for an answer and insisted on grabbing (Y/n)." The grunt at the end of his sentence was followed by Evan giving the man another shove as he let go of his shirt which was now crumpled.

Eddie's eyes quickly darted back towards (Y/n) and his brows furrowed in confusion as he waited for her to respond.

"He tried pulling me to the dance floor." She muttered quietly while her hands rubbed up and down her arms and she stayed stood to one side so she was out of reach. Just in case he tried again to reach out for her.

"Alright," Eddie closed his eyes for a moment to stop the double vision from getting any worse before he stepped a bit closer so he was in between his boyfriend and the stranger who was getting far too close to their girl. "You, back off to whatever corner you crawled out of. And you come with us and have a drink."

(Y/n) tried to nod and she curled her hands around Evan's arm to try and pull him back. If they all went and sat down and finished their drinks, this idiot would realise no one was going to give him the time of day and (Y/n) clearly wasn't interested. They didn't need to start anything.

Eddie wished the man would have just listened and did as he was told. He could have gone back to whatever corner he had been in and found someone drunk and willing to dance with him.

But instead, the man side stepped so he was leering at (Y/n) as a few people began to edge closer and crowd round, clearly anticipating a fight.

"I was dealing with her, not the bodyguards."

When he reached out for (Y/n) again, both Eddie and Evan shoved him back. Neither of them were letting him touch or get close to their girlfriend.

"Get the fuck back."

"Move-"

"Babe, don't- stop it both of you!" (Y/n) grappled for Eddie's arm when he looked like he was about to reel back and punch the stranger and she tried to nudge Evan back so he wouldn't be tempted to fight too.

She knew Chimney and Hen were now hurrying over to try and help prevent a fight from taking place. The pair of them needed to step back, they needed to stop and call security and get this idiot to stay away from them. Fighting wasn't going to do any of them any good.

She wasn't sure who started pushing first, but she knew the moment an unfamiliar hand tried to grab at her, that it was Eddie who threw the first punch. He saw the touch and smashed his fist into the stranger's nose before he could think better of it.

A guttural "Get back." Spat past Evan's lips as he shoved the stranger before he swung his arm round and pushed against (Y/n) to stop her from getting any closer. He knew she was trying to get in the middle of them to stop the fight but by doing that she would land a punch and get hurt.

Evan's arm bashed into her chest a little too forcefully and he swung his arm right round to shove (Y/n) behind him where she should have stayed in the first place so she wasn't anywhere near this creep.

He pushed a little too hard.

He knocked (Y/n) hard enough that she tripped over her feet and in her drunken state, she couldn't find her sense of balance quick enough. (Y/n)'s hands grappled for Evan's arm but she couldn't hold onto him in time.

She didn't realise she had been standing so close to the steps that led down to the toilets until her foot skidded off the top step and she went flying back.

A scream broke past her lips as it felt like she was flying through the air. Her hands waved frantically in front of her but she cringed and began to shake when she landed with a crash on the steps. There were only four stairs in total that led down to the hallway toilets but each one seemed to cement against (Y/n)'s back and sent shockwaves running through her system.

The back of her head slammed against the floor and sent her vision black with little spots dancing before her like stars twinkling in the midnight sky.

Tremors rattled through her body as she tried to move but she couldn't find the willpower. All she could do was gasp and groan, trying in vain to get the air back to her lungs.

"Jesus, Buck!" Eddie smashed his hand into Evan's shoulder and gave him a rough push to one side so he could stumble towards the stairs.

Eddie moved his hand to pinch the bridge of his nose and he shook his head to try and sober himself up a little before he crouched down beside (Y/n).

Both hands moved to cup either side of her face and his thumbs swiped across her cheekbones beneath her eyes as he tried to check that she was still conscious and that she could actually see him. She could have a concussion or broken ribs or any number of sprains or injuries.

"Baby, you with me?"

(Y/n) choked through another groan but she managed to nod and her hand reached up to curl around Eddie's wrist. She shuddered when someone else knelt down beside her but when she realised it was only Hen, she let herself relax.

Her arms weakly moved out towards them both and waved until they took the hint and carefully eased her up from the floor. Eddie moved his free hand to her lower back and he shuffled her off the stairs so she was sat on the floor.

"Fuck." She mumbled quietly, moving one hand to rub the back of her head before she curled both her arms around Eddie's neck and leaned into him, hoping he got the hint.

She heard him mumbling "Alright baby," and his hands found purchase on her waist as he got to his feet and eased her up with him. He didn't like the way she wobbled back and forth but she was stood on both feet and she wasn't crying or whimpering in agony. She didn't seem to have any strains or injuries to her legs and she was moving her arms and bending just fine.

Maybe the alcohol was softening the blow or maybe she didn't land that hard, either way, Eddie was glad they wouldn't have to make a drunken trip to the hospital tonight.

When Evan reached out for them both, Eddie frowned and gave him a light tap around the back of the head. "You could've knocked her out-"

"You didn't exactly help either, Eddie!" Evan hissed in retaliation before he reached out for (Y/n). His hands cupped either side of her face and he bent his knees to be level with her as he leaned forward until their noses were pressed together. "Sorry baby, I'm sorry. You okay?"

The panic was evident in his drunken eyes and the rest of the group were crowding round to make sure they didn't have to call for help or all take a trip to hospital.

But the grumbling smile on (Y/n)'s lips and the way she scrunched her nose and nodded made them all relax.

She stole a quick kiss from Evan's lips to calm down the panic in his eyes before she gave him a gentle nudge in the chest.

"You'd better buy me a drink for that, Buckley."

***

A groan burst past Evan's lips as he snapped his head up and tried to open his eyes. It took all his will power to manage to get his vision into focus so he would see where he was and what was going on.

Where was he? What had he been doing? Why didn't anything look familiar? Why couldn't he remember what he had been doing before he passed out?

He was laid on the floor. He was sprawled out on the floor that was littered with feathers, broken pillows, stray covers and sheets and a lot of glasses and bottles. He was still wearing his suit from the party- of course, the bachelor party! Although as Evan tried to look at his suit, he realised it was ruined; splattered with drinks, food remnants and God knows whatever else.

Every part of his system felt broken and sore and he coughed as he planted his hands down on the floor and slowly sat himself up. His head lolled back and forth and everything seemed to spin around him, and not in a good way either.

"God… Eddie… (Y/n)?" He moved his hand to cradle his temple as he winced and groaned.

When he looked around the room, a few splattered memories started to come back to him in odd bits and pieces. He remembered a lot of karaoke. He remembered drinking, specifically shots and cocktails with the group. He recalled Chimney being the first to leave which had been a dampener on the night, but he knew the rest of them carried on partying.

He wasn't sure what room they were in though, they hadn't booked a room for tonight. Maybe this was Chimney's room. He had probably gone to Hen's for the night, he hadn't been keen on staying at a hotel in the first place.

"Fuck, what happened?"

Eddie couldn't feel his legs. His head was swaying back and forth as his vision took its time figuring itself out and coming back into order. He had gone to sleep in the bath.

It was empty, thankfully. He couldn't imagine waking up in freezing cold water, that would have made him sick. His legs were hanging over the edge of the tub which was pressing uncomfortably into the creases of his knees. His lower legs had gone numb which meant he had been asleep like this for a few hours at least.

He glanced around the room and found his boyfriend just beginning to get up from the floor. So Evan had gone to sleep on the floor, interesting. He'd never done that before. That begged the question, where was (Y/n)?

Eddie was grateful for Evan's hands when he came over to stand in front of him and carefully helped him out of the tub. They both wobbled and stumbled unsteadily on their feet but when Eddie glanced ahead to the other side of the room, his lips quirked into a smile and he pointed across.

He could see their girlfriend on the bed. He pointed across to the bed and the pair of them slowly headed (Y/n)'s way and as Eddie glanced down at himself, he grimaced. His soft pink trousers were rather dark and gritty now, stained beyond repair.

Somehow during the course of the night, he had removed his shirt but managed to get his blazer back on and he was still wearing his bowtie even with his chest exposed.

It must have been a good night.

When the pair of them trudged over towards the bed, a smirk flooded each of their faces.

There she was. Their girl, laid across the centre of the bed rather than near the pillows which were admittedly strewn about the bed and the floor. Her feet were hanging over the side of the bed and her arms were sprawled out ahead of her as she laid on her stomach with her cheek smushed into the plush covers.

Her hair looked to be skewed and toussled all about the place, but it was the sight of that blood red dress she had been wearing all night which made both men smirk. Her dress was undone at the back and it looked like it had slid down her chest and had become ruffled and stuck around her waist instead.

With a huff, Eddie flopped down onto the bed just behind her and he leaned his weight up on his hand while his free hand moved to delicately trace designs and patterns across (Y/n)'s shoulder and the back of her neck. His head angled to one side as he smiled softly while Evan crouched down beside the bed.

Evan crossed his arms on the bed and leaned over until his face was angled close to (Y/n)'s.

"Morning baby," He whispered softly, moving his hand a little so his finger traced her chin and then her lower lip. Unable to resist once (Y/n) hummed and her eyes began to flutter, Evan leaned over and pecked her lips. There was a faint hint of cherry lingering on her lips and it made him hum and angle his head for a deeper kiss.

As his fingers traced over (Y/n)'s exposed back, a frown etched onto Eddie's features and his skin bristled as he sat up straighter.

"Buck…" He leaned forward and nudged his foot into Evan's side to catch his boyfriend's attention.

"What, you getting jealous?" He was only jesting and without waiting for a response, Evan leaned over (Y/n)'s back so he could snatch a kiss from their boyfriend too. He smiled into the kiss until Eddie pulled back after only a brief touch.

The loss of contact made Evan frown until he felt Eddie's hand ghosting along his jaw until Eddie had hold of his chin and began to angle Evan's head down.

"No, look."

Eddie didn't like what he saw and he watched Evan's face morph into a look of utter distress when he looked down at (Y/n)'s back. With her dress undone and pooling towards her bum, it exposed her skin to their eyes. She had deep plum purple bruises on almost every column of her spine and there looked to be some swelling around her back too.

For a moment, Evan felt like someone had grappled into his chest and had their hands around his lungs, squeezing until he had no air left. It took him a lot longer than it should have to fathom out why their girlfriend looked like she had been beaten black and blue.

The fight. The steps. The fall.

Evan had unintentionally done that to her. He had tried to keep her safe but he ended up pushing her on those stairs instead. He had caused those deep bruises on her back that looked like she had been painted a different colour. That was his fault.

"Oh, shit." He breathed, utter guilt weaving into his tone as he flopped to sit down on the bed on (Y/n)'s other side.

"What?"

(Y/n) groggily blinkered her eyes open and looked up at Evan with pouting lips and confusion plastered across his face. What was he thinking, what was he talking about?

She took a deep breath and moved her hands down against the mattress so she could push herself up and she scrambled her legs so she was kneeling up on the bed in between them both. Her hand moved to her hair, brushing loose, knotted strands from her face while she tilted her head back and tiredly looked between her men.

But when she straightened up, she couldn't help the way she winced and groaned when her back clicked. Her whole back was aching. It felt like she had been used as a punching bag. Perhaps she had slept funny or her back had gotten too cold during the night and her muscles had seized up, although it felt like her spine was hurting more than her muscles. They had all been rather drunk last night, after all.

Pinching the bridge of nose, Eddie sighed and shook his head a little to try and ward off the hangover that was raging a storm inside his head and causing his stomach to do summersaults. Once his head felt a little clearer, he reached out for (Y/n)'s elbows and he carefully urged her to shuffle off the bed and stand up which caused her to whine quietly.

"Come here, amor, I need to take a look at you."

He easily manoeuvred her in front of him, hiding a gentle smile behind a stoic expression when her dress pooled around her feet.

Kicking her foot out, (Y/n) tossed the dress to one side so she wouldn't trip over it. She had already figured that it was just the three of them in this room which meant she was okay to stand here in just her underwear in front of her men.

Eddie's words had clearly meant something else in (Y/n)'s mind because she took a sharp breath and frowned when his hands moved to her hips and he spun her round so her back was facing him. She thought he wanted to look at her, probably with a sense of hunger in his eyes. So why had he turned her to face away from him?

It was clear Evan felt bad, Eddie noticed the sorrow bubbling up in his boyfriend's eyes and the way Evan had both hands clasped together between his parted knees and how he was hunched over showed he was feeling sorry for himself. For what he had unintentionally done.

He tried to lift his gaze but seeing the bruises didn't make Evan feel better, it made him want to be sick. He hadn't meant to hurt her, he only wanted to move her out the way of that creep last night.

Eddie's left hand stayed clamped around (Y/n)'s hip while his right hand carefully started to press and prod against each column of her spine and around the bruises. If there was a lot of swelling or parts were too tender they might have to take a trip to the emergency room after the wedding reception.

"Wh- ow, ow Eddie that hurts." (Y/n) whined and reached her arm behind her to whack his hand away. Whatever he was doing hurt. He was making her jerk forward and pull away from his touch, something that never happened.

With a deep frown and confusion pooling in her eyes, (Y/n) wriggled out of Eddie's grasp and wobbled over to the full length mirror across from the bed. She turned around so her back and bum were facing the mirror and looked over her shoulder to see what the boys had been looking at.

"God, what did you two do to me last night?" The shock was evident in her voice as she stared at the bruises, but she didn't dare touch any of them.

A low smirk pulled at Eddie's lips and he shook his head with a laugh when (Y/n) looked over at them. So maybe the boys left a lot of marks and hickeys on her skin after a fun night, that wasn't really a secret, but they didn't leave marks like that on (Y/n) and especially not in a strange place like that.

She usually ended up with marks on her hips or the inside of her thighs and hickeys on her neck. They never left bruises like that on her, but it was rather funny to Eddie that (Y/n) thought they'd had a good enough night last night to do something like that and her not remember any of it.

"Nothing so exciting, mi amor."

"There was a fight, I tried to get you out the way…" Evan scratched the back of his neck as he finally looked up to meet (Y/n)'s gaze.

He saw the moment it clicked in her mind and she remembered. The brief argument they'd had with that stranger and the tumble she'd taken on the stairs. A grimace flooded Evan's face but his eyes didn't look away from (Y/n) as she walked back towards them.

"We both did, Dios we're sorry baby. We didn't mean to hurt you." Eddie reached his hand out and curled his fingers around her hip when she was close enough. He had been to blame as well, Evan might have tried to push her to keep her safe but Eddie had been arguing too and he had thrown the first punch. This was his fault as well.

Evan wasn't quite sure what he was expecting their girlfriend to do, but having her loop her arms around his neck and plant herself down on his lap was definitely not what he had in mind.

His hands quickly moved to hold her hips to keep her secure on his lap and he held his breath when she leaned forward and tucked her face into the crook of his neck. He could feel her teeth grazing against his skin and he already knew that she was going to be leaving a mark there as if to make them both even.

The frown that had been etched onto his face quickly changed into a smile, especially when he noticed Eddie's hand on (Y/n)'s lower back and his lips on her shoulder as he leaned towards them both.

(Y/n) pressed a few hollow kisses against Evan's throat, just enough to have his breathing turn shallow. Before she pulled back and looked between them both with one arm looped around the back of Evan's neck and her other hand moving to graze along Eddie's chin.

"Well? How are you gonna make it up to me?"

[potatoplace]

Can't Help Falling In Love

The Afterthought: Chapter 6 | series masterlist

ACOTAR x Archeron!Reader

chapter 5 | chapter 7 | ACOTAR x reader masterlist

Story Summary: Your gained independence has brought you more friendships, a companion, and, surprisingly, a new romance.

Warnings: shitty Feyre, very mild drinking, iiii honestly think that's it? I cannot think of anything else, let me know if I missed something pls

Words: ~11.8k

Author's Note: omg so I'm tired so there might be mistakes BUT everyone let me know what they think!!!!!!!!!! IM SO EXCITED TO HEAR WHAT YOU THINK CAUSE OMG IVE BEEN SO EXCITED FOR THIS MOMENT. Also. Peep the fun lil cameo I made (I am sure you all will guess it easily lol it's p obvious imo. Also. I will share pictures if people ask 🤭) I hope you all like this chapter!! ps the title is from an Elvis song but I know it from Fools Rush In but that's what they dance to at the end

18+ only pls

🤍🤍❣️🤍🤍

Mor returned just a few minutes after you finished getting dressed, in a soft, thick navy cotton nightgown, your feet clad in soft, fuzzy white slippers.

You had already set the table- another purchase from the secondhand furniture store that you had made yesterday, coming with four matching chairs. The scuffed walnut wood matched your bed frame, which had been a good enough reason for you to choose it.

And, that you'd been able to carry it home. Slowly, but you had, and you'd returned for the chairs promptly, each time apologizing to the seemingly annoyed shop owner who had said nothing each time, only stared at you over the top of his book.

You let Mor in after the first knock, giggling when you saw everything she was carrying. She had a small duffel bag, a bag filled with food, and another bag filled with... well, you weren't sure yet, but it was stuffed to the brim.

"Did you bring enough stuff, Mor?"

"Oh, hush you," Mor said, breezing past you to deposit the food on the stable, her other bags deposited next to your bed. "I brought pasta! There's a creamy one that has a seafood blend, and some good old spaghetti with meatballs. Plus-" Mor pulled another, smaller bag out. "Breadsticks!"

"Did you get anything healthy?" You asked, taking the breadstick that she handed to you and taking a bite.

"Nope," Mor said through her own bite. "I mean, unless you count tomatoes being a fruit. Which I totally do. So actually, yes."

You shook your head and laughed as you sat at the table, Mor following right after. "As long as there's tomatoes, then. What's all the other stuff?" You asked, pointing your breadstick at her other bags.

"Well, one is my clothes for tonight and in the morning, and the other is full of housewarming presents!"

You let out an exasperated sigh, but you couldn't help the smile that spread across your face. "More housewarming presents? I don't know how much of this I can take."

"Oh, you will take them happily," Mor said sternly. "They're just some small things that I thought you might need, nothing big. Though I would love to help you find a couch tomorrow, if you're up for it?"

You looked at the bag, and back to Mor. "That depends on how much you got me, Mor."

Mor smiled brightly. "Ahh, so you can be convinced. Do you want to know what they are now, or food first?" You glanced down at your breadstick, and quirked a brow at Mor. "I mean the pasta, silly. So?"

"Uhh... Presents first, I suppose, as long as the food won't get cold."

"That should be no problem, if we keep it in the bag. I'll go change into my pajamas really quick, and then you can see what I got you!"

A few minutes later you were sat on your bed, Mor beside you, pulling your first present out as you held your eyes shut.

"Go ahead and open!" Mor said after placing something that felt like a book in your outstretched hands.

It was a book- and upon opening, you saw that it was filled with handwriting exercises, and beginners words. Meant for a child, yes, but...

"Mor, thank you," you said tearily, pulling your friend into your arms. "This is- oh, this is so amazing. Thank you, thank you, thank you!"

Mor giggled beside you. "You're welcome, Y/N! I know that glass Nuala and Cerridwen gave you is helpful for understanding letters, but I also know you'd prefer to do it yourself. Now, close your eyes again!"

The two of you repeated the process over and over again, until you'd received every present Mor had picked out for you.

She had gifted you a beautiful quill set, with a selection of colored inks along with a larger inkwell filled with the standard black. A diary, in a delicate shade of pink, along with matching letter paper and envelopes, a small kit to do wax seals for when you decide to send letters. Mor had also picked out a few lovely bars of hand soap, along with two cute crystal dishes to hold them. And Mor had brought you two new blankets, one a dark blue, and the other in a dark purple.

"You can never have enough blankets, Y/N. Never," Mor said seriously as the two of you moved back to the dining table, each of you having a blanket wrapped around your shoulders.

"I agree with you completely, Mor. And really, thank you for everything," you said sincerely, squeezing her hand.

"It's my pleasure, Y/N. I'm always happy to go shopping! Now- do you want some of both dishes? Cause... I do," Mor admitted with a grin as she pulled the to-go boxes out of the bag.

"I'd be happy to have both," you giggled, grabbing another breadstick from the bag, this one slightly cooler than before. "So- tell me what's been going on with the Hewn City? Unless you want to avoid work completely."

Mor sighed as she dished out some of both pastas for both of you, onto the pretty clay plates you had bought two days ago, with painted flowers decorating its surface. "Well, Keir has been a pain in my ass, using every available connection he has to try and stop the upcoming election. He's been holding these stupid little rallies at the nightly revels, trying to convince the citizens to stage a coup. Though why he thinks that would work when Rhys or Feyre alone would be able to shut it down, I don't know. Just... He's being a pain in my ass!"

"I'm sorry, Mor. Isn't there anything that Feyre or Rhys would be able to do? Or maybe... Maybe remove him from power, imprison him for attempting to overthrow their rule?" You suggested, then took a bite of the seafood pasta- absolutely delicious, the creamy sauce complimenting the scallops, shrimp, and shellfish well, the pasta tender.

"I've tried telling them that it may be the only way forward, but they don't seem to understand how bad it's gotten as of late. Azriel's been busy in Autumn or Illyria for the past few months, and Cassian's been monitoring Windhaven specifically as of late. And Feyre is pregnant, meaning Rhys is unlikely to send her to the Hewn City without him, which would leave only Amren in Velaris. So..." Mor took a dejected bite of a breadstick.

"So you're stuck there?"

"Pretty much," she sighed. "Though I made Rhys promise to give me at least one day off every week, so I'll be able to come back home, and I'll be able to see you!"

You smiled. "Good, I'm glad. I missed you a lot over this last month, Mor."

Mor's expression matched your own. "I missed you too, sweets. Now... Tell me how everything's been going with you?"

It was your turn to sigh after you swallowed your bite of spaghetti- also delicious, with the slightly spicy sauce and meatballs.

"Things have been... They're looking up now. Now that I've moved out, at least. And working has been really nice. Things around the River House... Besides Azriel, they've been really tough for me. Nesta and Elain... They make me so uncomfortable, and they hate me for no reason. At least, that's what it feels like. And Feyre doesn't seem to care, either..." You shoved another bite of food into your mouth, letting the flavor soothe your pain.

"I'm sorry, Y/N. I really thought that Feyre would have tried to make them stop, especially after how rude they were dress shopping for Starfall," Mor said. "But I'm glad to here that things are looking up for you- And that Azriel has been sweet. And working at Sevenda's! You've done amazingly for yourself, love, all on your own. If..." Mor paused, considering her words. "If you decided to not have them in your life anymore, I wouldn't blame you. Feyre I would give another chance, but Nesta and Elain... They're taking their anger about their own situation out on you, I think. And that's unforgivable, seeing as they know how much it's hurt you."

Tears had welled in your eyes at her words, at how well she understood your feelings. "Thank you, Mor," you managed to choke out before the tears fell.

"Oh, sweets... Come here," Mor said, standing from her chair and pulling you up and into her arms, squeezing you tightly, a hand stroking your hair soothingly. "How about we do a face mask and eat chocolate? Does that sound good?" Mor asked after a while, pulling away from you a bit. You nodded your head, not trusting your voice quite yet.

"Let's do it, then."

🤍🤍❣️🤍🤍

The next morning was lazy, with you and Mor sleeping in and laying in bed for an hour, talking about everything and nothing. You felt like you were sharing hushed secrets together, like you had so long ago with Feyre when the both of you laid awake at night, your other sisters sleeping the night away as the two of you dreamed of a life you wanted to live, not just an existence of scraping by.

Eventually, you were dragged from the cocoon of your bed by your bladder, and after you had washed your hands you jumped on the bed, right on Mor.

"It's time to get up," you sang as you laid on top of your friend, giggling when she half-heartedly tried to push you off of her. "You said you wanted to go couch shopping, right?"

"Yes, but not this early," Mor groaned beneath you.

"If you want any chance of paying for it, you've got to get up now!"

"Okay, okay! You've convinced me, you're impossible to give things to unless I've already bought them," Mor laughed, and this time you let her push you off of her- not that you doubted her ability to do it if she truly wanted to. The two of you made your way into the bathroom, going through the steps of washing and moisturizing your faces. "We're stopping for breakfast in a café, though, I'm dying to have a muffin and some coffee."

"That's fine by me Mor," you laughed. "You can change in here, I'll change in the main room."

"Okay, just let me know when you're dressed so I don't accidentally peek on you," Mor said after she had grabbed her bag and returned to the bathroom. That left you to quickly strip out of your nightgown, down to your underwear. You slipped on a simple peach brassiere and into a clean, black woolen dress, in a similarly modest fashion to the one you had worn yesterday.

"You can come out, Mor," you called out, and a moment later the bathroom door swung open.

"Let's get going, I'm starving," Mor complained as the two of you slipped on your boots and outerwear, you of course wearing all of the items Azriel had bought for you. "Oo, I like these," Mor said, stroking the cape with an ungloved hand. "Did you buy it recently?"

A blush spread over your cheeks against your will. "Oh, uhm. Azriel gave the set to me, for Solstice."

A smile spread across Mor's face. "Oh? Azriel bought it for you?" Mor asked.

Your cheeks heated further at her actual question. "It's not like that, he's just being nice..." You mumbled.

"And what if he wasn't?"

You blinked at Mor for a moment, dumbstruck by her suggestion before you laughed. "No, no. I don't... That's not a possibility, Mor."

Mor shook her head. "But you want it to be- and it is. Any male or female would be lucky to have you, Y/N," Mor said gently, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear. "Now. Let's go get breakfast."

🤍🤍💙🤍🤍

Three hours later, you and Mor were carrying a couch through the snow covered streets of Velaris, the legs dragging through the white powder. Its pink velvet fabric was a near match to the chair you had already bought, and had a low enough back to allow winged individuals to sit comfortably.

Not that you'd taken that too much into account, it was just a nice benefit for when Azriel came to visit.

Which he would be, tonight. The two of you had agreed to have dinner tonight, as your way of repaying him for your bed. It was the one night he would be in town this week, and since you had the day off it had seemed to work perfectly.

Mor was going out with some friends tonight at Rita's, an activity that you were fine not being involved in, and she had to return to the Hewn City early in the morning.

The two of you said goodbye in the late afternoon, a long hug and promises to coordinate time together and write to each other- you would even attempt to tell her about your week, if you were able.

You spent the time before Azriel turned up cleaning your apartment some, washing the dishes that you and Mor had used last night and putting away the gifts she had given you.

Then? You collapsed on the couch, a blanket spread over you as you enjoyed how soft the cushions were.

A shadow tangled in your hair moments before a knock landed on your door, and you shook your head at the silly little thing.

"Hello, Azriel," you said as you opened the door, face to face with the Shadowsinger, a round, covered dish in his hands. His shadows seemed antsier than usual, a few of them breaking away to swirl around your feet, a tiny smile creeping onto your lips.

His eyes tracked them, tightening for a moment before they met yours, hazel softening as he looked at you. "Good evening, Y/N."

Your smile grew. "Come in, you need to choose a recipe so that we can go shopping," you said brightly as you opened the door further, letting him into your apartment. "You didn't need to bring anything, you know."

"Thank you. I just brought dessert, and it was my pleasure. And I'd be happy to have anything you make, Y/N," Azriel said as he followed you into the kitchen, where you had two of your cookbooks set out on the counter. The ones that Nesta and Feyre had gifted you. He set the dish to the left of them, and you were tempted to peel back the foil covering it.

"None of that, you're going to choose a recipe that you want," you demanded, fully aware that you are being more assertive than you'd been with him... Well, ever.

But he seemed similar to you, in the way that you never liked to accept much of anything from others.

Azriel stared you down for a moment before sighing, a small smile creeping onto his face. "Okay. But you have to let me know if it's a recipe you wouldn't like," Azriel said firmly, waiting to open a cookbook until you had nodded your agreement. "Good."

He flicked through the pages until he settled on a dish you both thought sounded good- chicken and dumplings. "It was my favorite when I was younger," Azriel confessed as the two of you walked to the Palace of Hoof and Leaf, his shadows clearing your path as they had taken to doing over the past month.

"I can't imagine you younger, somehow," you giggled as you looked up at him, trying to imagine him as a gangly teenager. But the image never came, leaving you staring at the very masculine male next to you.

Azriel let out an amused snort. "That's fine by me, I was... I was awkward, back then. But, so were my brothers."

"You? Awkward?" You shook your head. "I don't buy it. You're too calm, all the time."

"That's now. Back then I was a nervous wreck," Azriel admitted, rubbing the back of his head.

"Well, if you're ever nervous now, you do an amazing job of hiding it," you said as you picked out the vegetables you would need, handing over your bank card to the stall owner for a moment, thanking them as you left. The vegetables were placed into the cloth bag you had brought with you, which Azriel plucked from your arms despite your protest.

"If you're paying for everything and cooking, the least you can let me do is carry the ingredients," he insisted. "Now, what else do we need?"

You looked down at your list, squinting at the poorly printed ingredients that you had written down before leaving. "Uh... Chicken, obviously."

"Right. There's a butcher shop just a few stalls down," Azriel said, leading you gently with a hand on the small of your back.

The intimacy of his touch made your breath stutter for a moment, before you reminded yourself that Azriel is your friend, nothing more.

Shopping flew by, easy, light conversation flowing between the two of you while you were in the outdoors.

Azriel carried everything for you, prying every item out of your hands after you had paid for it. But you didn't feel patronized by it, rather... You felt touched, that he wanted to carry the groceries back to your apartment, that he wanted to help out in some way. It was nice.

His helping hands attempted to extended into the kitchen, at which point you fixed him with your toughest stare, demanding that he stayed still.

"Just sit there and let me cook! Enjoy your wine!" You said to him as you dropped the dumplings into the pot. "This is me repaying you for my bed in the one way you would let me- so let me!"

Azriel sighed, but you could almost hear the smile he was wearing. "I cannot believe my shadows are siding with you."

"What?" You asked, turning away from the pot to stare at him, laughing at the sight you were met with. "Oh my- that's hilarious!" You giggled at seeing Azriel, covered in his own shadows as they held him to the chair, even lifting his glass of wine up for him.

"So you say, I find mutiny much less amusing," Azriel said, shaking his head with a smile on his face. "It smells amazing, Y/N."

Your smile grew, nose scrunching at his words. "Thank you, it should only be a few more minutes."

"I'm fine right here, no matter how long it takes."

🤍💞💙💞🤍

Azriel had left your apartment near eight in the evening last night, after he had insisted upon doing the dishes, of course. Dinner had been such a pleasant affair, with Azriel telling you about his work in Autumn and Illyria, and you talking about the small dramas of your fellow kitchen staff.

You could confidently say that you were friends now. Even better, you had gotten Azriel to agree to have dinner with you when he had a rare evening in town that wasn't taken up by court matters or inner circle dinners, though it hadn't been tough to convince the male. The next time you would see him would likely be on Saturday, though he had promised to send a note with one of his shadows if something came up.

Currently though, you were at work, nestled between Josi and Torma.

You'd woken up with an ominous feeling pooling deep in your stomach, one that you still hadn't shaken. But, you'd gotten yourself out of bed and to work; for that, you were proud.

Josi and Torma were going back and forth about where they should go for drinks that night.

"I think we should go to Rita's. Then we can dance!" Josi said excitedly, even doing a little jig, bumping her hip lightly into yours which drew a giggle from you. "See! Y/N thinks it's fun!"

"Dancing would be fun, that's true Josi. But I'm feeling more like sitting and talking a bit tonight, which is why Blue Bar would be a much better choice," Torma explained, giving Josi her best puppy dog eyes as she looked over your head.

Josi sighed. "What if Y/N comes dancing with us? Would you go to Rita's then?"

Your eyes widened at the suggestion. "I don't think-"

"Oh, please Y/N?" Torma begged, setting down her knife and putting her palms together. "Please please please? You haven't gone out with us yet!"

You scrunched your face at the idea. Drinking, dancing, and being near so many people... Was not your idea of a relaxing evening. "I'm not sure... I don't really drink," you said quietly.

"But you don't have to drink! You can just watch us be silly and bad at dancing," Josi enthused, setting down her own knife. "Come ooon, you know you want to see us make fools of ourselves!"

The thought of them stumbling around together on a dance floor did bring a smile to your face. "As long as you guys don't abandon me," you decided, your words resulting in enthusiastic high fives from your coworkers, only making you smile wider.

"Yes! Okay, we can either pick you up from your apartment at seven, or you can meet us at Rita's at the same time," Josi said.

"Uhh... Pick me up from my apartment, I think. Otherwise I might just stay home," you admitted sheepishly.

"Then we'll pick you up at seven o'clock sharp," Torma declared.

The rest of your shift passed quickly, with you leaving around five. You bid goodbye to your coworkers, promising them that you would be ready and enthusiastically awaiting their arrival in two hours.

You walked home, enjoying the slightly warmer weather that Velaris was having today. The sun was shining brightly, even as it began its descent below the horizon.

Still, even the lovely weather couldn't shake the feeling in your bones that something unexpected would happen today, good or bad.

And you were proven right when you arrived to your building, Feyre standing outside of the locked door, looking...

Angry.

Furious.

Your heart picked up in your chest, beating rapidly as you tried to assess why she would be angry... The only reason you could come up with was, well... Why you were standing outside of an apartment building.

"Hello, Feyre," you said, as neutrally as you could with your heart hammering in your chest.

"Y/N," Feyre said coldly, her hands pointing to the doorknob. "Let me in?"

Your brows scrunched together, but you unlocked the door, letting Feyre pass through before you. You led her upstairs, pausing before your door. Should you let her in...? You sighed and unlocked the door, allowing Feyre to enter your apartment. Your safe space.

You only hoped it continue to feel that way, after this visit.

"So... You moved out without telling me? Do you have any idea how dangerous that is? How worried I've been?!" Feyre growled at you once the door was shut behind you.

"Worried?" You asked with a mirthless chuckle. "You've been worried? I was gone for a week, Feyre! A week, and you couldn't be bothered to notice until Mor did!" You yelled at her, your own anger at your situation bubbling up. "Besides, it's not like I could leave the fucking city without your approval anyways, so what do you have to be worried about?! That I'm making my own life, with people who actually care about me?!" Feyre opened her mouth to respond, but you didn't give her the chance. "I felt like nothing but a burden, an annoyance in that house," you hissed. "And if you had actually cared about me, you would've noticed I moved out last Wednesday. And you would've noticed when I got a job. And you would have remembered that I cannot. Read." Tears filled your eyes as you brought up that little tidbit, the sting of it fresh whenever you thought of it. Water had begun pooling in Feyre's eyes, and you knew that if she spoke you would forgive her, even if you didn't want to. "Now get out, Feyre, unless you've decided that my apartment is now your property as well. Come back when you actually realize why I moved out," you said coldly as you opened the door, staring expectantly at her.

She did as you asked, passing through the doorway mere minutes after she entered. Feyre turned to you, her eyes sparkling with unshed tears. "I do care for you, Y/N. But you've got to stop acting like living at the River House was torture."

You scoffed and rolled your eyes, slamming the door in her face and locking it tightly.

Not that it would stop her, if she really wanted in...

You spent the rest of your time before your coworkers showed up curled in your bed, pillows piled around you and blanket pulled over your head. It was only when you peeked at the clock and saw it was ten to seven that you pulled yourself from your cocoon.

Hair brushed out and a small amount of eyeliner and pale pink rouge and lipstick applied, you quickly changed into a different dress. Your cozy black cotton dress was changed to a flowing, sapphire blue silk gown. The sleeves were loose, wider once they met your forearms, and the modest cut and floor length skirts left you feeling secure and covered. You felt pretty in it, one of the few nicer gowns you had taken from your closet in the River House.

You had just pulled on your boots and cloak when a knock fell on your door, Josi and Torma waiting outside.

"How did you get in the building?" You asked with a laugh as you locked up.

"Well, one of the other tenants had just walked in when we arrived, so we slipped inside!" Josi explained, locking arms with you as the three of you left the building.

"Ahh, that explains it."

"Yes. Now, let's get to Rita's! It's cold as balls out here," Torma groaned, taking your other arm and dragging the two of you along faster.

The air in Rita's was hot, a welcome reprieve from the winter chill outside. Josi went to order drinks for the three of you, while Torma led you over to a booth in the back of the bar.

The two of you had just settled in when Josi came back, four drinks in her hands. She set two in front of you, one was water, the other was pink and sparkling, smelling of strawberries and a hint of alcohol.

"I know you said you don't drink, but I thought I would get you something just in case! I had the bartender make it less strong for you. And if you don't have it, I'll drink it anyways," Josi giggled as she slid into the booth next to you, already sipping her own drink.

Normally you wouldn't have dared to touch alcohol, but your conversation with Feyre earlier... You could use a distraction. And, you were with your trusted coworkers.

You took a small sip of the drink, delighted at the way the liquid was fizzing in your mouth. It tasted as it smelled, primarily of strawberries with the slightest hint of alcohol- champagne, you thought.

"Thank you, Josi, it's delicious."

"I'm glad you like it! Oh- Torma, we have to dance to this one!" Josi squealed, setting her drink down and sliding out of the booth, pulling Torma along with her.

You watched them dance, sillier with each song as Josi had said they would, sipping your drink. You started feeling light, tipsy like you had at the one party you'd drank at, when you still lived in the human lands.

Maybe that was why you hadn't noticed him, until he was standing directly in front of you, wings tucked in behind him.

"Oh- hi, Azriel," you said quietly, a flush on your cheeks as you smiled at him.

"Hello, Y/N. I didn't expect to see you here," Azriel replied, sliding into the booth across from you. "You look like you're having a nice time."

You bobbed your head to the beat of the music. "I am. Josi and Torma convinced me to come out tonight. And I am glad they did, otherwise Feyre would have ruined my day," you giggled, the sting from your interaction with her not present with the alcohol running through your veins.

"You spoke with Feyre?" Azriel asked, a curious look on his face.

You sighed heavily and took another small sip of your drink. "Yeah, she was at my place when I got off work, and was mad that I moved out without saying anything. But really, it took her a week to notice!" You vented. "Not to mention she didn't even remember that I couldn't read... Nesta and Elain I understand since they hate me but..." you trailed off, a frown on your face.

One of Azriel's hands slid over your own, grasping it gently. "I'm sorry that you've been let down so thoroughly by your sisters, Y/N. I am happy to know that you're still living how you want, and making friends too."

You smiled dreamily at him. How was he so nice to you? "Thank you, Azriel. I'm glad that you're my friend, you're really nice."

Azriel smiled softly at you, his hazel eyes crinkling at the edges.

One of his shadows tangled itself in your hair, rubbing against your neck and drawing your eyes away from Azriel's. "Your shadows are so silly," you giggled, tickling the shadow with a finger.

"They seem to like you a lot," Azriel remarked, watching as more of his shadows nuzzled themselves against you. "By the way, I wanted to ask you if you're up for a surprise on Saturday, before we have dinner."

You blinked at him for a moment, your thoughts coming more slowly with what you'd drank. "Uhm... Is it a fun surprise? Or like... dragging me to a family dinner surprise?"

Azriel's lips pressed together, the corners of his mouth still tilting upwards. "A fun surprise, I promise. And if you don't like it, we can leave right away."

"Mm... Sure, I don't see why not," you said, trying to come up with what kind of surprise he would plan.

"Good," Azriel smiled. Josi and Torma had wandered back over to the table, fresh drinks for themselves in hand. "I'll let you spend time with your friends," he said, sliding out of the booth.

"Thank you for saying hi, Az," you said sweetly, smiling happily at him. "I'll see you on Saturday!"

Azriel nodded, a slight flush on his cheeks as he turned away, going back to whichever table he had been at.

"Oooh," Josi said from beside you, elbowing you gently in the side. "Someone has a crush on the Shadowsinger!"

You scrunched your face at her, but couldn't get the smile to slide off of your face. "No I don't," you whined.

"Oh yes you do," Torma joined in, poking your leg with a foot. "And I dare say he has one on you as well."

You blushed further at that idea, shaking your head. "No, no, we're just friends!" You insisted, but both of them gave you a knowing look.

"Uh-huh," Josi giggled from beside you. "Just let us know when you start dating, hmm?"

"It's not like that!" You giggled, gently slapping her on the arm. "It's not!"

Torma rolled her eyes playfully at you from across the booth. "Sure, Y/N. Now, do you want to dance with us?"

You looked out at the dance floor. You'd never been one for dancing, since you'd missed out on the years of lessons that Nesta and Elain had gotten. But...

You drained the rest of you drink, about a third of it, and scooted into Josi. "Let's go dance!"

🤍🤍💙🤍🤍

The next morning, you'd woken up with a slight hangover, which had been easily cured with a large glass of water, some dry toast, and a long bath.

Josi and Torma had grinned at you the whole day, talking about how they needed to take you out more often now.

You wouldn't say yes every time but... It had been nice spending time with them, and dancing had been more fun than you'd thought, with a bit of bubbly running through you.

The five days before you would see Azriel again- when you would know what surprise he had planned- passed by quickly at work, but dreadfully slow while you were alone at home.

You had taken to filling out the handwriting book that Mor had given you, your letters improving with every time you wrote them. And you felt you were nearing the point that you could attempt to read children's books, perhaps the book of fables that Rhysand had given to you for your birthday.

Feyre had yet to visit again, something you were grateful for. If she couldn't understand that being trapped and kept here like a forgotten pet, or worse, a chew toy for your sisters, was your problem? Then you didn't want to see her.

You were lonely while you weren't at work, but you could handle that. After all, you had time with Azriel after work today, and you and Mor were having another sleepover tomorrow night.

You had just started washing up to leave work when a shadow snuck into your hair, alerting you to Azriel's presence, likely in the dining room. You giggled at it, gently poking it with a wet finger before you dried off your hands. Sure enough, Azriel was stood in the dining room, talking with Sevenda in a hushed tone, both of them quieting when you walked through the curtain separating the kitchen from the front of house.

"Ah, Y/N! Someone came to pick you up," Sevenda said with a smile, winking at you when Azriel had his head turned.

You rolled your eyes at her, turning your attention to Azriel. "Come to take me to the surprise?"

"I am, in fact," Azriel nodded, extending a hand to you.

You took it without thinking, letting him lead you out of Sevenda's restaurant and into the snowscape of Velaris. His hands were soft, even with the scars that you knew covered them, and the calluses that you knew he should have, being a warrior and all.

His shadows were buzzing around the two of you excitedly, mirroring that of their master. Something about where you were going had Azriel as close to giddy as you could ever see him getting, a slight smile stuck to his face, his wings twitching every now and then.

Soon enough you came to a stop in front of a large building, various magical creatures painted onto the sign above the door.

Velaris... Animal... Shelter?

You blinked at the sign, confused. Surely you hadn't read that right.

"Come inside, I think you'll like it," Azriel said, gently tugging you into the building. Once inside, your ears were met with so many different sounds: meows, barks, bird trills, growls, hisses. There were a few rooms, all separated with glass walls and doors, filled to the brim with animals.

You were instantly drawn to the room housing felines- there were so. Many. Kittens!

"Oh my gods, can we go in?!" You asked Azriel, your face flushed from excitement and the cold as you met his hazel gaze.

"Of course we can, we just need to keep all of them inside the room." Azriel opened the door for you, letting you pass through first.

"Oh, they're so cute!" You squealed, approaching a pile of kittens, all conked out. You sat on the floor next to them, petting all of their fuzzy little heads and milk filled tummies, delighting in the squeaks they let out.

"This is an amazing surprise, Azriel," you told him once he sat down next to you, his wings drawing the attention of some of the active kittens.

"Being here isn't the only surprise," Azriel said. "If you'd like, you can take one home. I've already picked out some possible furniture you might like for the little one, if you decide to have one."

You gaped at him, completely shocked. "I can... I can take one home?" You asked, looking back at the kittens with new eyes. You could have a companion... Someone just for you.

"You can," Azriel said warmly, a smile on his lips when you looked back at him.

A grin spread across your face and your launched yourself at him, wrapping your arms tightly around his neck. "Oh, thank you, thank you, thank you!"

His arms wrapped around you for a moment before you pulled away. "You're welcome, Y/N. I thought you might like to have a companion at home."

"Well you were right," you said giddily, turning back to the kittens. All of them were so adorable, so sweet while they were sleeping. But you would want one that was calmer while awake, matching your energy levels.

You and Azriel stayed in that room for two hours, playing with kittens and talking about what you'd both been up to over the past five days.

"The elections are heating up, and thankfully Rhys and Feyre sent me to the Hewn City to help protect the candidates going against the current leaders," Azriel told you as he let four kittens climb over him, even onto his shoulders and head. "Mor sends her love, by the way."

You smiled, both at the sight and the mention of your shared friend. "That's sweet of her, we get to have a night together tomorrow, which will be even more fun with my new little one," you said. "I still don't know which one I want, though."

"Take your time, you want to get one that you'll bond with well," Azriel suggested.

You looked around to room, trying to find any kittens that you hadn't interacted with yet. There, on one of the shelves... Mostly hidden behind a fluffy bed stuffed onto the shelf was a tiny kitten with glowing green eyes, her beautiful silvery coat shimmering even in the slight darkness of the shelf. You crawled over to her, extending a hand back to let her sniff. She hissed softly at you once, but let you run your fingers across her head, purring at the first touch.

Oh yes. This one.

She seemed slightly afraid of everything, hissing gently when you plucked her from her spot and cradled her in your arms. She was so tiny, and her fur was so soft and puffy, you wouldn't be surprised if she turned out to be a total fluff ball. Her tummy fur was the palest pink color, absolutely adorable. And her silvery fur had streaks of light tan running through it, along with slightly darker streaks of grey.

She was perfect. And the way her eyes closed as you pet her was so comforting to watch, you knew that you had found your fur child that you wanted to take home.

"I want her," you said to Azriel, tilting her in your arms so he could see her better. "She's so cute, and she seems nervous, like me."

Azriel laughed softly. "She's very cute, Y/N. Do you know what you'd want to name her?"

You looked down at her, trying to think of something that would suit her. At the same time, she let out the tiniest little squeak, that sounded like a soft 'eek.'

"M'aiq. Cause she's mine, and she made a little eek noise," you said, nodding your head at the name.

"M'aiq... That's a cute name for a cute little Starfall kitten."

"Starfall kitten?" You asked, wondering if that's why her eyes glowed green.

"Yes, every year, in the two months after Starfall, about one in every litter is born with a Starfall spirit inside of them. Or, at least, that's the explanation I've heard for why their eyes glow," Azriel explained, beginning to place the kittens that had climbed onto him back on the ground.

"Awe... You're even more special, my little M'aiq," you said cheerily, nuzzling your nose against hers.

Azriel led you out of the glass room and to the counter, where a fae took M'aiq and put her into a small carrier. He then led you into the shelter's store, where they had plenty of furniture, toys, and anything else you would need in stock.

You picked out a tall, carpeted structure that had a few platforms that M'aiq could rest on, as well as four different beds meant for small felines. A magically cleaning litter box and several food and water dishes also came home with you, as well as many, many toys.

His shadows sent everything to your apartment besides M'aiq in her little crate, which Azriel picked up for you. You tried to pry it out of his hands, but instead he slipped his free hand into yours and began leading you back to your apartment. Along the way you stopped in the Palace of Bone and Salt, picking up the things you would need for a simple pot roast dinner, seeing as you would be distracted for the rest of the evening.

Once you were inside the apartment, you immediately snagged M'aiq's crate from Azriel and pulled her out of it and into your arms.

"You're so cute," you cooed to her, petting her tiny head slowly.

You felt Azriel's eyes on you before you saw them, glancing up and smiling warmly at him. He looked away, the slightest blush on his face.

He is, too.

You placed M'aiq into one of the many cat beds now decorating your apartment, this one placed at the foot of your bed. "Stay there, sweetie, while I make dinner," you told her, her nervous green eyes on you. "I'll make you something, too, don't you worry."

Azriel was smiling softly at you when you turned to the kitchen, the expression making his face even more beautiful than normal.

You'd never understood how a male could be pretty, until now. But now you knew why Feyre called Rhysand the most beautiful male she had ever seen, because you thought that might be true of the winged male in currently in your kitchen.

"Did you need help with dinner?" He asked as you approached the bag of food he had placed on the counter.

"Hmm... I suppose since this isn't me paying you back for anything, you can help this time," you decided, setting out two cutting boards and handing him a knife. "Cut the potatoes into halves then quarter the halves, slice the carrots half an inch thick, and the onions into eighths please."

Azriel nodded and began rinsing the potatoes and carrots, while you grabbed some chicken from your cold box, dicing it after you started a flame under a pan with a bit of oil in it.

You balanced cooking the chicken for M'aiq and braising the roast while Azriel cut all of the vegetables, finishing at the perfect time, right when you needed them all to be added to the pot.

Azriel took over seasoning the roast while you fed M'aiq for the first time, grinning from ear to ear as you watched her devour half of the chicken that you had cooked for her. You'd get the portions down in no time.

With the roast in the oven, you and Azriel relaxed on the couch for a while, M'aiq in your lap.

After a little bit, Azriel had his shadows bring him a few reports after he made sure you would be okay with it, quietly filling them out with the scratch of his quill on the paper.

You decided, since you had tipsily told him that you were illiterate at Rita's anyways, that you would work on your handwriting in the book Mor had given you again, fighting the blush that had overtaken your cheeks.

But he said nothing about what you were doing, only giving you one curious glance before returning to his own work.

He was thoughtful like that. He thought about what would make you uncomfortable.

Your heart thumped in your chest at the feelings you were developing, ones that you had been fighting so hard to keep at bay.

But you were failing.

You were failing because this sweet, caring, thoughtful male did nothing but make your life brighter, Shadowsinger or not.

Doing your best to keep your attention on your workbook, you passed the rest of the time until the roast was done in a comfortable silence, the scratching of quills, crackling of logs, and M'aiq's soft purrs the only sounds in your ears.

Azriel checked the roast for you, after you had complained about having to move M'aiq when she was so comfortable and sleeping... And then he brought a bowl over to you along with a napkin, eating his own on the couch as well.

You felt so comfortable near him, even sitting so close, unaccompanied by anyone else. Two and half years ago you would have balked at the idea, the impropriety of it. But Azriel had been nothing but gentlemanly toward you, even when he had flown you up to the House of Wind.

And really... You would never be the whore that Nesta claimed you to be, after all you had never even been kissed in your twenty years of life, let alone had relations with someone. Just the thought of that sent anxiety through you. No, you would not have sex with someone until you were married, as you had been raised to do. You even... You even found it romantic, to save yourself for your future spouse.

So, being alone in your apartment with Azriel? That was an impropriety you were willing to overlook.

Azriel left your apartment near eleven at night, having spent extra time with you while you helped M'aiq settle in to her new home.

When you shut the door behind him, your heart fluttering from his presence, and now absence.

You turned your attention down to the fluffy ball in your arms. "What do you say, M'aiq? Are you ready for bed?"

Her soft squeak was enough of an answer for you. You settled her on the bed, next to your pillow while you washed your face and dressed for bed.

You laid down next to her, covers pulled up to your shoulders, with a hand poking out so you could pet her as you went to bed.

You didn't feel quite so lonely, laying in the dark now.

🤍🤍❣️🤍🤍

As soon as you exited work, you were assaulted by way of an aggressive hug from a bouncy blonde. Mor swung you around, giggling.

"I'm so excited to see you!" Mor yelled, squeezing you tightly.

"I'm excited to see you too, Mor!" You giggled after she set you on your feet again. "So, what's the schedule like for tomorrow?"

"Well," Mor started as the two of you began walking to your apartment. "I have to be back in the Hewn City by noon, and... I have a family dinner to go to tonight," Mor said with a sigh. "So I won't be with you for dinner, but I'm planning to book it out of there and have dessert with you!"

You nodded in understanding. "That's fine, Mor, but you should come to my apartment first! I have something to show you."

"Oh?" Mor asked, quirking a brow at you. "What is it?"

"If I told you now, it wouldn't have the same effect!" You insisted as you let her into your building, following her up the stairs. Your door swung open, and you heard the skitter of claws on wood. "Oops, I think the door spooked her."

"Her?" Mor asked, looking around before her eyes locked the far wall. "She's under the bed."

"Oh, M'aiq!" You called as you pulled off your boots before crawling next to the bed. "Come on out, sweetie, Mor is your friend," you said softly, rubbing your fingers together to draw her out. No luck, though, especially when Mor kneeled down to peer under the bed. M'aiq actually hissed at her, spitting and everything. You hated that she was distressed but... She was so cute.

"Awe, she's adorable!" Mor whispered. "And she's a Starfall kitten, oh that's so sweet. You know, they tend to bond strongly to their owners, some are even able to communicate with them. Not talking," Mor giggled when you gave her a wide eyed look. "More like... Their emotions can be shared with you, similar to daemati, but it's just a connection between them and their person. Maybe your little M'aiq will do the same."

You looked back to her, where she was now sitting, pressed tightly against the wall but no longer hissing. "That would be so cool," you whispered.

Four hours later and Mor was back in your apartment, lounging on your bed with you, M'aiq laying inbetween.

"So, besides the kitten, what else is new?" Mor asked you, popping a chocolate into her mouth a moment later.

"Well..." You blushed. "I... I like Azriel..."

Mor grinned at you. "I knew you would! And honestly, I don't see why he wouldn't like you. The two of you are so well suited for each other."

You shook your head. "I don't think so Mor, I'm... I'm human," you whispered, your eyes stinging.

"And what does that have to do with anything?" Mor asked seriously, tilting your chin back up so you would look at her. "So, you're human. Why does that matter?"

"Well, because... Because I won't be around for long, and it's cruel to shackle someone to me when I'll be old and grey in such a short time," you admitted, finally giving voice to your doubts.

"Who says you'll get old and grey?" Mor asked. "Maybe there's a way for you to not age, we just haven't found it yet. And besides, it's Azriel's choice if he decides to pursue you, he would know the possible outcomes. You deserve to be happy, Y/N," Mor said softly, her own eyes shining with tears. "I know that you're stuck here, and you would prefer to be in the human lands, but you still deserve to have happiness here, and if that means having a partner? Then that's what you should do, sweets."

You sniffled at her words, willing your tears to not fall as you stroked M'aiq. "Maybe... Maybe you're right... But I still don't think he likes me in that way," you said quietly.

"Well, I think what you think is wrong. I've never seen Azriel smile as much as he does when he's with you," Mor giggled, causing you to do the same. "And the two of you look so cute together!"

"Mor, stop," you laughed. "I don't want to get my hopes up..."

"Okay, okay. I'm just saying..."

You scrunched your nose at her. "Different topic. Tell me how things have been going with the election?"

"Well..."

🤍💙💘💙🤍

Friday night you and Azriel had planned to spend the evening together, but you were surprised to see him on Wednesday evening, after knocking on your apartment door.

"Hello, Azriel," you greeted. "What are you doing here?" Your eyes darted down, seeing his shadows swirling around his legs, a few darting out to brush against your legs. But more interesting was the box in his hand, pink with a matching ribbon tied in a cute little bow wrapped around it.

"I, uhm-" Azriel stammered for a moment before taking a breath. "I came here today because I want to ask you on a date, Y/N."

Your breath caught in your throat, your heart stopping. "I- what?"

Azriel's mouth tilted up in the corners. "I want to take you out on a date. I want to spend time with you, have a chance to court you. I like you, Y/N. And I was thinking we could go out for dinner on Friday night, if you decide to say yes."

Your brain short circuited. He- he likes you?

"I- Is this a joke?" You asked in a small voice, your heart bracing for the answer you were dreading.

Azriel's eyes saddened for a moment, his hands twitching where they were holding the box. "No, Y/N, I would never joke about this. I like you, very, very much. And I would very much like it if you joined me for dinner Friday night at seven," Azriel said softly, his eyes locked on yours. They shone with nothing but the truth, soothing your worries and sending heat to your cheeks.

A small smile slid onto your lips. "I... I'd like that very much, as well."

Azriel's smile at your words set your heart ablaze, the fire of your feelings stoked by the knowledge that he shared them as well. "Good, good. This is for you," Azriel said, placing the box into your hands once you held them out, his fingers brushing against yours. Just that little touch sent flutters through you, your blush deepening. "It's Elain's recipe, the white chocolate raspberry cake that you love," he explained. "I thought, even if you did not share my feelings, that you might like something sweet anyways," Azriel admitted, rubbing a hand against the back of his head.

"Thank you, Azriel," you said softly, touched that he would still care for you, even if you'd rejected him. "I'll... I'll see you at seven on Friday?" You asked shyly, still in disbelief.

"I'll see you then, Y/N," Azriel said, raising one of your hands and pressing his lips to the back of it. "Sleep well, dear."

Your heart thumped in your chest, hard enough you thought it might beat out of your chest. "You too," you said quietly, watching as he smiled once more at you, before disappearing down the stairs.

You shut the door, leaning against it after you locked it.

Had that really just happened?

Your eyes drifted down to the box in your hands, proof that Azriel had visited, had brought you it, had... Had...

Oh gods, you had no idea of what to do for a first date!

You set the box on a kitchen counter, opening it to see an adorable, heart shaped cake, decorated with pretty pink swirls of icing. It made you giddy, knowing that the cake was a present from a suitor. From Azriel. You cut a slice for yourself and grabbed a fork, taking the plate over to the table.

The cake was as delicious as you remembered, and M'aiq jumped onto the chair next to you, watching as you ate.

"If only you could give dating advice, little cutie," you mused, having another bite. No, you'd have to go see Mor for help.

🤍🤍❣️🤍🤍

The next morning, you knew that Mor was in town, visiting the River House to give a report on the upcoming elections to Rhys and Feyre- early, too, before you started your work day.

You bundled up early, your nerves getting the better of you. You needed her advice, and you needed it before Friday. Which meant this morning was your only option, even if it meant going to the River House...

You entered your former home, filled with anxiety. There was no way to tell how this would go, given your last encounter with Feyre, but you were determined to get what you needed, and that was a conversation with Mor.

Luckily for you, she, Feyre and Rhys were sat at the dining table, having breakfast. Mor was chugging coffee until she saw you, setting her cup down and rushing out of her chair.

"Oh, Y/N! I'm so happy to see you!"

"I am too, Mor, I was-" You looked at Rhys and Feyre. "I was hoping I could talk to you, if that's alright?" You asked nervously.

Mor glanced back at the two of them before nodding. "That's fine, sweets, what did you need?"

"Uhh... Can we go outside, to talk?" Mor nodded and followed you to the front door, slipping on her coat before leaving the warmth of the River House. You walked a little bit away before talking, you didn't want anyone besides Mor to know. "Okay, so... Remember how you said that Azriel might like me...?"

"Oh mother!" Mor exclaimed. "He asked you out, didn't he?!"

You blushed and nodded your head. "Yes, last night, and for tomorrow night. But I- I've never been on a date before," you confessed, wringing your mittened hands together. "I don't know what to do, I don't know what's expected. I've never- I've never even been kissed!"

Mor placed a comforting hand on your shoulder. "Oh, hon! Nothing will be expected except for you to give it an honest try, and to be yourself! And as for never being kissed, I could change that," Mor offered, wiggling her eyebrows at you.

You swatted her arm, shaking your head at her. "You're very pretty, Mor, but I don't like you that way," you giggled. "But... But what if he... What if he doesn't understand that I'm... saving myself," you whispered, "For marriage?"

"Y/N, if Azriel is in any way demanding sex from you, then he doesn't deserve you. I also don't think Azriel is that kind of male, he seems like a true gentlemale, in my opinion."

Her words soothed the anxieties in your chest, calming you down. "I don't think he would either," you said shyly. "But I... I also don't know what to wear."

Mor's eyes lit up even more, and she clapped her hands together. "Oh, oh! We can go shopping when you get off work today! I'll make sure I can stay in town until eight tonight, okay? And I'll see if I can come over tomorrow evening before you leave and help you get ready, if you'd like?" Mor asked.

"Really, Mor? That would be lovely," you said, hugging your friend. She squeezed you back. "Thank you, I'll see you at five, yes?"

"Yes you will, sweets. Now, you get to work, and I'll get back to that meeting. See you later!" Mor said with a wave, turning around the way you came.

Your shift passed incredibly slowly, your mind drifting to every way that the date could go right- and also wrong. You had nearly driven yourself crazy by the time you had washed up and left the building, Mor waiting by the door with two steaming cups of tea in each hand.

"Let's get shopping, sweets!" Mor said brightly, handing a tea to you and leading you to a dress store in the Palace of Thread and Jewels. It was a different one than you had gone to for your Starfall dress, for which you were thankful.

Mor lead you through the store, showing you dress after dress in styles and colors that you loved. All the while, she gave you little tips of advice, most of them along the lines of "be yourself and know that he is just as if not more nervous than you are."

After trying on ten different dresses, you settled on a rose pink silk dress with a modest neckline and floor length skirts. The sleeves billowed out before coming in at your wrists, the silk laying across your body in a flattering fashion. You could safely say that your body had filled out over the past month, what with you eating a small lunch at work and having dinner most nights. Your curves were more pronounced, a bit closer to how you had been before being taken to Velaris.

Mor had also insisted on buying you heeled boots in a matching shade of pink, a gold heart buckle keeping the strap in place. They were cute enough that you didn't fight her on accepting them.

She walked you home, parting with a strong hug and a promise to come by a bit after you got off work tomorrow.

But for tonight? You had another slice of cake, then snuggled up with M'aiq under the covers, using her purrs to chase away your racing thoughts.

🤍💙🤍💙🤍

"You look gorgeous, Y/N!" Mor squealed as she stood back, having put the finishing touches on your makeup. "What do you think?"

You looked in the mirror, taking in the very light blush on your cheeks, the softly glittering pale pink eyeshadow on your lids, brown eyeliner complimenting your eyes, making them look even softer than normal.

"I agree! You do an amazing job every time, Mor," you praised, standing to hug your friend tightly. "Thank you so much for helping me get ready, today and yesterday."

"Oh, sweets, it's no trouble at all! In fact, it's been so long since my own first date that it's bringing back this memories, how fluttery your stomach gets when you see them..." Mor sighed happily. "Well, I should get going, otherwise Keir will riot."

"When are the elections over, again?" You asked as you walked her to the door.

"In two weeks, thank the mother," Mor groaned. "Then I get a nice, long vacation for three weeks."

"Just two more weeks, you can do it!" You encouraged, wishing there was something you could do to make it shorter.

"Yes, I know... And you had better tell me everything that happens tonight!"

You giggled at her words. "I will, Mor!"

"Everything!" Mor yelled as she went down the stairs.

You shut the door looking at the clock. Half past six. That was plenty of time for you to feed M'aiq her dinner and get dressed. And luckily for you, cooking something would keep your mind occupied enough to not panic about Azriel's impending arrival.

Your little child was fed and your dress pulled onto your body, pink boots slid onto your feet. All you had left to put on was your cloak, mittens and scarf, but that could wait until right before you left. Five minutes passed dreadfully slowly, and at 6:57 you pulled on your winter gear and descended the stairs after saying goodbye to M'aiq.

Waiting for you just outside the building door was Azriel, a bouquet of roses- red, lavender and white- in his hands.

"Hi, Azriel," you said, a blush instantly coming to your cheeks at the sight of him in a fine black shirt and pants, a change from his normal Illyrian leathers. The shirt clearly showcased his physique, something that you could appreciate. He had no knife belt on him tonight, his waist looked a bit barren without it.

"Good evening, Y/N." He pressed a kiss to the back of your mittened hand before pressing the bouquet into your hands. "I thought you might like some flowers," he said with a small smile, one that you easily returned.

"I love flowers, and these are absolutely beautiful," you said, raising them to your face to smell them. "And they smell lovely as well."

"I'm glad to hear it. Would you like to take them upstairs, or my shadows can, if you'd like?"

You bit your lip. If you went back upstairs... You might chicken out. "If your shadows could take them, that would be nice." In the next moment, the bouquet was out of your hands, whisked away by his shadows to the vase in your apartment. "So, where are we going for dinner?" You asked, locking your arm with his after he held it out, your hand holding onto his muscled forearm.

"It's an Illyrian restaurant, I helped the owner and his cousin leave the camps sixty or so years ago, and I've found that, except for your cooking, it's my favorite restaurant in all Velaris," Azriel explained as you strolled towards the Palace of Thread and Jewels.

"Really? That's so amazing, that you're part of the reason their dreams came true," you said, even more enamored with the male beside you. "You're going to have to recommend things to me, I wouldn't know where to start," you giggled.

Azriel smiled down at you. "How about we share a couple of dishes? That way you can try whichever ones catch your eye."

You met his eyes, a smile on your own lips. "That sounds perfect, Azriel."

His eyes sparkled as he opened a door for you, a hand on your lower back guiding you through, sending a renewed flush to your face.

You were seated a moment later, in a cozy booth near the back of the restaurant, two menus placed on the table. Azriel ordered a pot of tea for the two of you to share, which warmed your heart.

He already knew you so well.

"Now, what sounds good to you, dear?" Azriel asked, the pet name sending your heart into overdrive.

You looked down at the menu, but with your excitement and still somewhat illiterate eyes, you were lost. You bit your lip for a moment before deciding what to do. "What if you order your favorites, because I am overwhelmed by choice?" You asked, relieved when Azriel nodded his head.

"That would be their beef stew, made with Illyria native vegetables and their roasted Illyrian trout with roasted vegetables. Do those sound good?" Azriel asked. You nodded your head- both of those sounded fantastic, and you were excited to see what he enjoyed most.

When the server returned with your tea, Azriel ordered the food before returning his attention to you, the weight of it making your breath catch in your throat.

"So..." You started, entirely unsure of what to say.

"I'm glad you decided to come out with me," Azriel said, his eyes soft as they met yours.

"I am too," you said shyly. "I'm still... Shocked that you asked me to come out, though."

A soft frown slipped onto Azriel's face, and you wanted nothing more than to wipe it away. "Really? I'd thought..." Azriel's own face heated a bit. "I thought that I was rather obvious with my affections. I might be the spymaster of this court, but I'm woefully inept at hiding my own feelings, at least... When it comes to you," He admitted, voice low and gentle.

"So... We both like each other... And thought we were bad at hiding it?" You giggled.

"I suppose so," Azriel chuckled. "But truly, I am very happy that you're here tonight, with me. Now, tell me- How is M'aiq settling in?"

Now that was a subject that you could go on and on about, with only having her for a week now.

You had covered how she was doing wonderfully at your place by the time your food arrived, with Azriel dishing your plate for you. The gesture made you smile, all the little ways he took care of you already.

The food was absolutely fantastic, flavor bursting along your tongue. Both of the dishes were spicy, but not so much that you couldn't handle it.

Conversation flowed between the two of you as you ate, just as it always did. You talked about your dreams for the future, the few that you did have at this point, your brain already working Azriel into them- not that you admitted that to Azriel, it was a bit early for those sentiments. Azriel told you a bit more about his upbringing, glossing over the parts of his life before he had befriended Rhysand and been taken in by his mother. You didn't pry, but you were a little curious to know every part of his story, everything that had shaped him into the male you cared for.

Soon enough you were stuffed full of warm, delicious food, the plates in front of you empty. More than that, you were filled with joy from Azriel's company, from how he clung to your every word.

He led you from the restaurant, his hand placed on your lower back once more, the warmth of it radiating through the fabric of your dress. You walked along the Sidra slowly, leaning your head against Azriel's arm, trusting him to keep you from falling.

You were almost halfway home when you heard the most beautiful music, coming from two musicians playing next to a bar, one with a violin and the other with a cello. You slowed your pace, Azriel's arm tightening around you as you did so. Listening for a moment, and gazing up at the brilliantly shining stars above you, you had an idea.

"Azriel, would you dance with me?" You asked him quietly, tilting your head to look at him.

His eyes met yours, a smile glowing within them as well as covering his lips. "I'd be honored, Y/N. So long as you call me Az."

You smiled brightly at him. "It's a deal, Az." You let him turn you in his arms, clasping your right hands together and placing a light hand on your waist. Your other hand came to rest on his shoulder, grasping it lightly.

The two of you swayed together in a small circle to the lovely music, the light of the stars shining down on you.

It was the date of your dreams, if you were being honest. Lovely conversation and food, and such a romantic partner, willing to dance in the snow with you because you asked.

So when you finally arrived at your apartment, you were a bit sad the date was ending. But more than anything, you were excited for everything that lay in the future for the two of you.

Azriel smiled down at you softly, his eyes warm despite the cold temperatures. His wings twitched behind him, just before he leaned in a bit.

"Can I kiss you?" He asked as one of his hands came to cup your cheek gently, so, incredibly gently.

You nodded, not trusting yourself to speak. He leaned in further, allowing you to close the last, tiny gap between your lips.

And when you did, you knew that you would never be the same. His lips were so soft against yours, so gentle and sweet that it stole your breath away.

Your mouth followed for a moment when he pulled away, your eyes fluttering open- you hadn't even realized you'd closed them.

"If it's fine by you, I'd like to see you when you get off work tomorrow," Azriel suggested softly, gaze flicking between your lips and eyes.

"I'd like that," you whispered into the space between you, the tilt of his lips more than worth having to speak so soon after such a life changing kiss.

"It's a date," Azriel said with a smile. "Goodnight, Y/N."

"Goodnight, Az," you breathed, unlocking the door of your building. He waited to leave until you were safely inside, the door locked behind you.

You just managed to get into your apartment before you collapsed against the door, overwhelmed by just how perfect the night had been. How perfect Az had been.

🤍💙💝💙🤍

General Taglist: @daughterofthemoons-stuff @lilah-asteria @meritxellao @twismare

The Afterthought Taglist: @darkbloodsly @angelbunny222 @uniquedreamsblog @romantasyreader28 @that-one-bibliophole @idkmyoldonewasembarassing @deathtopistachios @saltedcoffeescotch @sleepylunarwolf @babypeapoddd @kingshitonly @bravo-delta-eccho @bluebries81 @liahaslosthermind @deepestmentalitypersona @historygeekqueen @hermajestysworld @marina468 @esposamultifandom @astrokitty18 @larissa01-blog2 @acourtofbatboydreams @angel-graces-world-of-chaos @thelov3lybookworm @weekendlusting @dxjaaaa @thejediprincess56 @casiiopea2 @butterfix @sirenpearldust @marrass @satiresunflower @mae-foster @boo-shalala @optimisticbabydreamer @sttvrdustt @bunnybella186 @demon-master-zero @jaybbygrl @goodvibesonlyxd

[mysteryshoptls]

SSR Sebek Zigvolt - Nightmare Suit Vignette

"I'll tell you a story that may be of use"

[Halloween Town – Center]

Sebek: Hey, skeleton!! I brought what you asked for. Where do you want me to put it?

Jack Skellington: Thanks, Sebek-kun. Could you put it there beside the well?

Sebek: Beside the well…? Hey, there's so many things littered all around it! Like this, get rid of this basket right now!

Jack Skellington: Ah, sorry, sorry. I'll do that right…

???: You would like this basket removed, is it? Understood.

Sebek: Ack! Skeleton, move faster! Stop dawdling! Move that basket quickly!

Azul: No need to rush, I've already removed it. So please, you may place your items there.

Sebek: Urk… What have I just allowed to pass?

Jack Skellington: Hm? Is there a problem in having Azul-kun move the basket for us?

Sebek: A massive problem, yes! Urk, being in this man's debt is an eternal blemish…!

Azul: Oh, I wouldn't consider this a debt. That is, as long as I am given a fair compensation.

Sebek: You chose to move it on your own! I didn't ask you to.

Sebek: Who left that basket there in the first place? …Hm?

Sebek: Jack, doesn't that basket belong to Sally?

Jack Skellington: Ah, that's right. She filled that basket up with a few things and gave it to me.

Jack Skellington: Sally is smart and considerate… And just kind, overall.

Jack Skellington: There are times that I'll forget to eat when I get too into what I'm doing. The food she brought me today was as delicious as always.

Sebek: …Inferring from what you've said, it seems she brings you food often.

Sebek: If she doesn't have her basket, she won't be able to bring it to you next time. You should go and return it to Sally.

Sebek: While you're at it, what if you also let her know how you felt about her cooking?

Jack Skellington: Hmm, I guess…

Halloween Town Resident A: Heeey, Jack. I changed up the decorations based on what you said yesterday. Can you check how it looks?

Jack Skellington: Of course. …Yeah, this looks good! Please keep it up with the rest of the decorations!

Halloween Town Resident B: Hey, Jack! Taste this candy for me. I think it came out pretty good.

Jack Skellington: Let me see… Yeah, it's very delicious! If I were to say anything… Maybe it could use a bit more of a kick.

Halloween Town Resident C: Oh, there you are, Jack! There's something I want your help with…

Jack Skellington: Okay, I'll be right there. Just wait a moment.

Jack Skellington: I'd like to return the basket and give her my thanks, but as you can see, I've just far too busy.

Jack Skellington: And that's where you come in, Sebek-kun. If you could just return this to Sally and also let her know on my behalf…

Sebek: I REFUSE!!!

Sebek: …She is always thinking of you when she does this. So wouldn't it make more sense for you to go to her yourself to say your thanks?

Jack Skellington: That's true, you're right, but…

Azul: WELL, THEN!! You may leave the task of returning the basket to Sally-san to me, instead.

Jack Skellington: You're willing to do that, Azul-kun?

Azul: Of course. I couldn't possibly leave you in a quandary by yourself, Jack-san. I shall take this task on in the spirit of compassion.

Sebek: Wait! Jack asked me to do this. Don't just jump into the conversation like this… What are you scheming?

Azul: How could you possibly doubt me…? How rude to think that I could be scheming something. I only wish to be of help to those in need.

Azul: Specifically… to a hopelessly-in-love woman in need.

Azul: And thus, I have a proposal. I'd like for you to allow me to take on this task of delivering the basket. This would, of course, be considered compensation for helping you move things around earlier.

Sebek: .........

Sebek: Fine. I'd rather not stay in your debt, after all.

Sebek: However, I will go with you to go see Sally. I must keep a strict eye on you to make sure you are not planning anything nefarious.

Azul: Of course, I don't mind at all. Besides, you would come along even if I were to refuse, wouldn't you?

Jack Skellington: Uhh… So, the two of you are going to go together, then?

Azul/Sebek: Yes. / Correct.

Jack Skellington: You guys are a big help. Please give Sally a big thanks from me.

[Halloween Town – Dr. Finkelstein's Lab]

Azul: We've arrived. I wonder if Sally-san is currently home.

Sebek: Sally is helping make the dishes. I would assume she's in the kitchen…

Sebek: HEY, SALLY, ARE YOU HERE!?

Azul: P-Please don't shout like that all of a sudden!

Dr. Finkelstein: Seriously. I can hear you without you raising your voice like that.

Sebek: I don't remember calling for you, Finkelstein. Or… Is Sally not here?

Dr. Finkelstein: Hm, so you're here for Sally, is it? Well, you can't see her.

Sebek: We can't see her? What is the meaning of this?

Dr. Finkelstein: She keeps refusing to listen to me. I've locked her in her room until she comes to her senses.

Sebek: She's locked in her room…? I see, that's why Sally did that…

Sebek: HEY, SALLY! I'M LEAVING YOUR BASKET IN THE KITCHEN!

Sebek: I'm told my voice carries, so I'm sure she heard that. We're leaving, Azul-senpai.

Azul: We were not only entrusted to deliver the basket, but also Jack's sentiments.

Sebek: That can be resolved by him delivering the message himself!

Azul: My own credibility would take a hit if we were to leave a requested task half done.

Azul: However, it isn't as thought we would be able to force our way in… Seems as though we have no choice. We'll come again some other time.

Sebek: …......

[Halloween Town – Town Hall]

Sally: Good afternoon, everyone.

Sebek: Sally. Jack isn't here.

Sally: I see…

Sally: Oh, no, I mean. I didn't come here looking for him.

Sally: Umm… Oh, yes. I came to thank you for returning the basket, Sebek-kun.

Sebek: Hmph, ridiculous. I can't possibly be the reason you came here. But you know, if you keep it up with your roundabout ways, Jack won't…

Sally: Won't what?

Sebek: We should go somewhere else to talk. Follow me, Sally.

[Halloween Town – Alleyway]

Sebek: …I'm sure we'll be fine here.

Sally: What's wrong, Sebek-kun? Is this about something you don't want anyone else to hear?

Sebek: That's right. At least, you probably won't. …I'll be frank.

Sebek: If you keep acting in a roundabout way like earlier, you'll never be able to get your true feelings across to Jack.

Sally: Eh!? Y-You're wrong. I don't have any special feelings for Jack at all…

Sebek: YOU DON'T KNOW WHEN TO GIVE UP, HUH!!

Sebek: Have you forgotten what happened when Trey-senpai and I came to help you cook?

Sebek: You jumped out a window. At that time, you claimed that it was faster to do that than take the stairs…

Sebek: I realized that that the real reason was because you had been locked up in your room by Finkelstein. I heard him say so myself.

Sally: …......

Sebek: And while you were unable to move freely because you were locked in your room, you figured out a way to get out on your own.

Sebek: You did it just to see Jack, no matter how many times you crashed to the ground or your body fell apart…

Sebek: I haven't been here in Halloween Town long, and even then it's plain to see your feelings towards Jack.

Sebek: However, that man… Whenever he receives something from you, he just considers you a "kind person."

Sebek: I can't deny that you are, but… Do you truly think that you're treating him no differently than anyone else?

Sebek: Jack Skellington is too thick-headed. For guys like him, you need to tell it to him straight.

Sally: …Thank you, Sebek-kun. I know you're saying all this for my sake.

Sebek: No, I'm only doing this because it irritates me to no end to witness! Both your introversion and his thick skull are frustrating. And I hate how your effort has nothing to show for it.

Sally: Yes… I know it would be splendid to be recognized for my effort. But I can't tell him how I feel.

Sally: Jack is someone everyone admires. He is that Pumpkin King that everyone fears.

Sally: How could I ever stand beside him as his partner…? It's impossible. We're on two different levels.

Sebek: Ugh, just looking at you is making my blood boil. …Here, I'll tell you a story that may be of use.

Sebek: Back in my world, there is a classic story called "Omero and Lietju."

Sebek: With their families opposed to their marriage, two lovers plan to elope… But due to various complications, their plan ends in failure.

Sebek: They were separated and taken back to their respective homes, crying in the belief that they would never see their lover again… Is the gist of the story.

Sally: …That is a very sad story.

Sebek: Mm. However, this story is not simply a sad one. It also teaches an important lesson to those who read it.

Sally: An important lesson…? What is it?

Sebek: Those lovers gave up on trying to make their family understand their love. Instead, they decided to elope and leave everything else behind.

Sebek: I won't go into detail as to how their plan failed, but when it comes to the cause of their tragic end…

Sebek: It most likely happened because they themselves failed to communicate their thoughts and feelings to each other.

Sebek: If only they had shared with each other their plans… If only they had confirmed with their own ears the rumors being spread…

Sebek: It could have been possible for them to have a happy ending. The author of this story probably had specific morals in mind…

Sebek: I'm sure they wanted their readers to understand that it's "not worth giving up," and "communication is key."

Sebek: Maybe every reader out there would have their own opinion, but that is how I interpreted it, at least!

Sebek: Stories are born because we want to convey our thoughts and feelings to someone. And this author probably thought the same…

Sebek: Perhaps they once gave up on something and chose not to communicate it, which led them to some regret.

Sebek: I've read many more countless books, but…

Sebek: There are countless stories of similar tales in which a lack of communication lead to missed chances or conflict.

Sally: Heheh, I see you are a voracious reader, Sebek-kun.

Sally: If I don't give up… If I tell him properly… Would my hard work will pay off one day, as well?

[Halloween Town – Alleyway]

Sally: If I don't give up… If I tell him properly… Would my hard work will pay off one day, as well?

Sebek: How would I know!? All you can do is believe and keep at it.

Sally: Well, now… What a powerful statement. It seems you have a reason you're able to believe that strongly, Sebek-kun.

Sebek: My grandfather on my mother's side was opposed to my parents' marriage. My mother defied that opposition and married my father anyway.

Sebek: Ever since then, my mother has been earnestly putting forth the effort to gain my grandfather's approval.

Sebek: She'll send him letters with pictures of them, or the whole family whenever she is able…

Sebek: Or she'll bring us grandchildren to spend time with him during breaks, or invite him to dinner whenever there's a special occasion…

Sebek: I'm sure there are many more things she has been doing that I am not even aware of, as well.

Sebek: Still, to this day, my grandfather does not approve of their marriage… And yet my mother continues to believe.

Sebek: If she can just communicate to him that she's married the man she loves, raised a family, and is living happily…

Sebek: Perhaps one day, my grandfather will understand their love. That he'll give his utmost blessing to their union.

Sebek: Actually, I do think there has been some progress. Right after their marriage, whenever my father would try to visit him, he'd be turned away at the door immediately…

Sebek: But recently, there has been an increase in occasions in which my grandfather and father will be in the same room together. Although, even that only happens about once a year…

Sebek: And my grandfather refuses to make eye contact with my father and frowns the whole time.

Sebek: But that all came about because my mother would constantly tell my grandfather how happy she is. That is what I believe.

Sally: I see… So your mother is able to clearly state her feelings just as well as you can, hm.

Sally: But I…

Sebek: Do you still seek to hold yourself back!? But, well…

Sebek: I suppose I can't say I don't understand your worries and frustration.

Sally: Eh?

Sebek: I hold in high esteem Malleus-sama, who is the next in line to rule over my home country.

Sebek: Not only was he born nobility, but he is also a great mage who is world renowned…

Sebek: In addition, he is an amazing individual that I wholeheartedly respect.

Sebek: Every time I witness just how spectacular Malleus-sama is, I am strongly reminded of my own inadequacy.

Sebek: No matter how much I study, no matter how strenuously I train, I will never be worthy enough to stand by him, let alone alongside the other guard.

Sebek: There have been times that I've wondered if I am even fit to be of use to someone as magnificent as him.

Sally: Ah... I know that painful feeling well.

Sebek: However, even if you are inadequate or inexperienced, that is no reason to shy away from standing beside someone you admire.

Sally: …!

Sebek: I aspired to be of use to Malleus-sama.

Sebek: And he, in turn… Allowed me to stay by his side as his guard.

Sebek: Of course, I am still in training. I still lack the knowledge, skills, or experience to be an official bodyguard.

Sebek: However, if I hold myself back, or feel ashamed, then I won't make any progress.

Sebek: All I need to do is continue to put forth the effort while standing alongside the person I admire most so that I become someone that is worthy of serving him.

Sebek: Above anything else, I cannot stand cowardice and negligence!

Sebek: That's why, Sally, you need to put forth the effort. If you desire to stand beside the Pumpkin King, you need to show it with both your actions and words!

Sally: As long as I work hard, never give up, and communicate properly, my feelings may be recognized...

Sally: I think I get it. It might not be able to happen right away… But I will do my best to tell Jack how I feel.

???: Oh, is that Sally and Sebek-kun over there?

Sally: Jack!

Jack Skellington: What are you guys talking about? …All alone with just the two of you?

Sebek: Hmph, nothing that concerns you.

Jack Skellington: WHAT WAS THAT?

Sally: Calm down, Jack. Umm… I was just thanking him for delivering the basket.

Jack Skellington: Oh, it was just about that, huh! I was thinking I wanted to give you my thanks too.

[Jack and Sally chat]

Sebek: Heh, seems as though the day that Sally's hard work pays off is drawing closer.

[Halloween Town – Center]

Epel: Sebek-kun's being so loud again… And everything he's saying's so unneeded!

Sally: He just wants to make sure people fully understands his thoughts and feelings.

Sally: I bet that's why he's always using a loud voice, so that they can hear him properly.

Epel: Sally-san, don'tcha think you're treating him too nice!? I think it's just because Sebek-kun lacks any sort of delicacy, isn't it?

Sally: That's not it at all. Thanks to the courage I received from his words, I was able to take a huge leap forward.

Sally: I am so glad that Sebek-kun came to Halloween Town… And that Jack and I were able to meet him.

Requested by Anonymous.

[concreteangel92]

“Have You Ever Tried This One?”

Noah Sebastian x female popstar reader

18+

Got this idea from @lunabuna991’s post and couldn’t get it out of my head haha this idea is so cute and I just had to do something for it but of course I added in a little bit of spice haha

Warnings: smut, PiV, praise kink, talks of edging

Permanent Noah Taglist: @flowery-mess @iloveyoutodeathbutimdrowning @collisionofyourkissmakesitsohard @lacy1986 @fadingangelwisp @theanarchymuse95 @w0manof-flesh44 @dream-machine-love @thisbicc @amelia-acero @badomenslullaby @fadingintothegrey @tosoundlessdarkistare @ichoosetenderomens @hurricanesfollowyou @concretejunglefm

Let me know if you wish to be added!

Masterlist

The large crowd in the stadium was screaming and chanting your name as the lights came up on the first night of your sold out world tour.

You were one of the hottest A-listers of the moment with your latest album still number 1 in the charts and you were living your ultimate dream. All of the hard work has lead you to this, you had the most incredible fan base, you were selling out arenas all over the world and your music was adored by everyone.

You felt the butterflies in your stomach as you waited for your queue to take the stage, microphone already in hand.

You felt more nervous tonight, not just because it was the opening night, but because your boyfriend was watching in the VIP area of the crowd tonight.

You and Noah had been dating for 8 months now, he was your perfect man, loving, kind, funny and an absolute beast in the bedroom, he matched your energy in every way.

Hence why a lot of your songs had very provocative lyrics in them.

A particular fan favourite was your song called ‘Juno’ and you knew you wanted to give the fans a show on this tour by mimicking sexual positions after the line “Have you ever tried this one?” and then changing it in every country.

Tonight you knew you were going to do one particular move, it was going to be the same position that your boyfriend had you in the night before

Flashback

Noah’s inked fingers dug into your thighs in a bruising grip as he held your crossed legs up against his chest as he pounded into you mercilessly.

“Shit…you feel so fucking tight!”

You couldn’t respond, the only sounds that would come out were your choked cries as you squeezed your eyes shut and your head fell back onto the pillow and your hands gripped the sheets beneath you.

You could feel every inch of Noah, like he wanted to make sure you remembered all of him while you went on tour for the next few months.

Noah’s hips continued to slam into you, the sounds echoing around the room.

“You were made for me angel…so fucking perfect”

You knew you wouldn’t be lasting long, Noah had edged you by having his face in between your legs for an hour before he showed some mercy on you and gave you what you wanted, said that he’d been enjoying himself too much and needed to make sure he’d had his fill before you were separated.

“Noah…oh my…”

You felt your thighs shaking under his hands, your back arching and your body convulsing on the mattress as you screamed the house down, not caring if anything was heard.

You barely had time to come down from your high before Noah suddenly pulled out and hooked his arms around your thighs and went to dive back down again.

“I just need a little taste baby, I bet you taste fucking delicious after cumming all over my cock like that, got to make sure we make the most of tonight”

••••

You skipped out into the stage and the crowd went wild, you smiled and waved before you started your set.

You sang and danced along side your back up dancers, loving every second but what made you smile more was when you finally caught sight of Noah.

He was in the VIP section with Nicholas and Matt, he was smiling and singing along to every word you sang and they wolf whistled and cheered for you after every song.

Finally Juno had come on, you had such a cheeky smile as you got to the line “wanna try out some freaky positions?”

You ran to the front of the stage, made sure you looked directly at Noah before you lied down in your back and lifted your legs up and crossed them over each other.

“Have you ever tried this one?”

Noah’s face was priceless as the crowd roared, he smiled and his hand came up to his face as if to hide the blush on his cheeks as he shook his head, Matt and Nick instantly laughing and giving him the elbow with raised eyebrows as they laughed.

You winked in his direction, smiled and carried on with the song.

•••••

Later that evening, the concert was over and Noah had joined you at your hotel, instantly lifting you up into a huge hug and telling you how incredible you were.

You settled down in bed together knowing it was the last night for a while as you were jetting off in the morning early.

Your social media had been flooding with the fans telling you how good you were and what an amazing night they had.

Your favourite video of the night however was a video a fan had taken of Noah during ‘Juno’ and his reaction.

Just as you went into the position, Noah’s face instantly showed he remembered the night before and he was all smiley and almost blushing. It was the comment underneath it that made your night.

“Noah watching y/n’s set and you just know that he was twirling his hair and kicking his feet when she done this! Clearly something he’s seen recently 😏”

[zepskies]

Thank you sooo much, my lovely!! 😘💕

Now diving into the rest of your amazing review! 😍

firstly I wanna say i love the phrase thicc thirty lol 😭 secondly I loved how each character was written, it felt true to their nature for sure 🙂‍↕️🫶🏽 as per usual of course :p💞

Hhaha right?! I borrowed that from Lizzo. 😝 And aw thank you!! you know I try to do my best to keep these guys in character.

deans made me so softt🥺 i’m always a sucker for person a noticing person b is off and then comforting them <333 it fills my heart with warmth every time I read it 💗 and the reassurance was lovely!

Girl SAME. I love me some sweet hurt/comfort, so I'm very glad you liked it here too. 💗

oh I felt this 😕 comparison is the thief of joy indeed, but it’s haaard sometimes :’) I mean i’m glad that by now adult me has accepted and acknowledged metabolism differences...for the most part lmao. but it’s definitely taken a lot or time 🫠

Ooh I've missed hearing that turn of phrase! Such an elegant one, and appropriate here loll. I mean yes, I've accepted the metabolism thing too, but it doesn't stop me from envying the perpetually thin. 🤪

oh beau ❤️‍🩹 as wonderful as these all are I think beau’s was my favorite this time around 🫶🏽 it’s so easy to fall into routine and let time slip by :/

I thought this one would fit with Beau especially because he has so much responsibility on his shoulders, and more that which he puts on himself. ❤️‍🩹❤️‍🩹 Honestly I think Beau was my favorite this time too to write. Maybe because I've been rewatching Big Sky season 3. 😝

it’s breaking mine too beau, fix it!😭 i wanted to give her a hug so bad lol. completely understandable where she’s coming from :(

Ooh he will! 😏 I'm honestly thinking of creating a full one-shot fic out of this one because I feel like I could've explored more with it.

girl same, call me olaf the way i’d melt for him 🤠 now where can I acquire a man like this 🫠 also that analogy, loveee love 🙂‍↕️🫶🏽

omg right?? I'd melt for this cowboy sheriff on sight. 🫠🫠

(and also thank you!! I struggled on the "breath of life" analogy, thinking it might be too cliche lol)

(I realized as i’m writing out this review, I may be a little biased because beau’s hc reminds me of the comforts of home 😅 I guess I have a thing for person a neglects person b non maliciously but has to make up for it too lolll <3)

Ooh yeah that's a super interesting parallel you noticed! Maybe I just have a thing for writing that trope? Non-malicious being the key word there. Oh, Sam (and oh Beau). 😩

meanwhile ben makes me laugh, he’s so direct lmfaoooo

YUP loll Ben doesn't mess around. (He doesn't have the patience.) 😂

like ben pleaseeee you did not have to add that ‘now’ 🤣

IKR? Like SIR. Pls. 😂✋🏽

and he’s so serious too 😭 such a romantic :p

loveeeee this, not just for the spice lol but how he didn’t go all stubborn macho man mode — while he’s not familiar with the new trends and he doesn’t think she needs to change anything, it’s sweet to see he’d be supportive of her regardless of what she chooses to do to make herself feel better — and I only say that due to his outdated mindset 😅💞

Oh yeah, I kind of surprised myself by writing that for his HC. I wondered if it verged on out of character, but I felt like he'd be like, "idc, do what you want, but I don't think you needa do a damn thing" -- type of deal. 😂💚

these headcanons were so wonderful <33 plus sized girly myself, I definitely understand the struggle with those negative thoughts & feelings that can really just take over randomly :/ soft and steamy reassurances sound like an absolute dream 💕🫠 these were so good lovely!🤍🫂

Aww my fellow plus-sized queen, thank you so much!! It's definitely hitting more lately for me. Since I've had some ongoing medical issues, I haven't been able to workout like I used to, so I've gained a bit more from what I'd lost. 🫠 But it's ok! Soon I'll be 100% and able to resume my routine while also not "starving myself" lmao. I'm so glad you enjoyed these admittedly self-indulgent HCs. 😘💕

Headcanon: Body Insecurity/Appreciation

Pairings: Dean Winchester x Reader, Beau Arlen x Reader, Soldier Boy/Ben x Reader

AN: This one was requested by one of my lovely Patreon members, @roseblue373. 💜 It's a special one to me personally, being plus-sized myself and having gone through my share of insecurities. Wish I had one of these guys to make it better lol!~

Prompt/Request: Great job with the latest Dean/Beau/Ben reacts vignettes! I'd love to see one where reader has put on weight and isn't happy with their body, and how each would make her feel better!! IF the muse agrees, of course! ❤️

HC: How Dean Winchester, Beau Arlen and Soldier Boy (Ben) would react to your body insecurity.

Tags/Warnings: 18+ only! Established relationship, body insecurity (but also body appreciation), thicc thirty, angst, hurt/comfort, fluff, spiciness/smuttishness.

Dean Winchester

You've started breezing past mirrors when you get out of the shower.

Because if you catch sight of your own reflection, you can't help but utter a sigh, your lips dipping into a frown.

In the privacy of the room you share with Dean in the bunker, you take a risk in unwrapping the towel from your body in front of the mirror.

You inspect yourself with growing dejection, noting all the places that are rounder, heavier, less firm than they used to be.

Looks like no amount of running down leads and killing monsters has been enough to keep you in shape.

Too much shitty fast food, too many times you indulged yourself with snacks and dessert alongside your foodie boyfriend.

"What'cha doin', sweetheart?" Dean asks. He steps into the room while wiping donut icing from the corner of his mouth.

Speak of the devil.

When Dean finally catches you frowning at yourself in the mirror, you inhale sharply and close the towel back up.

"Nothing. Just need to get dressed," you reply quickly. "Shower's open."

You try to offer him a smile, despite the pang of jealousy when you eye him.

He gave you the first chance at the shower after the latest case wrapped up, so he's still wearing most of his FBI suit, sans jacket. The white dress shirt is rolled up to his elbows, a few days of scruff neatly trimmed across his cheeks.

The man can cram an entire pizza down his gullet and wash it down with three slices of apple pie, not to mention countless beers. And still, Dean stays looking downright edible.

By comparison, you feel...fat. Like you've let yourself go.

You turn away from him to grab your well-worn sweatpants and an oversized shirt; you plan to change alone in the bathroom, but Dean grabs your arm.

"Who says you need to get dressed?" he says, popping his brows with a suggestive grin. He slips his arms around your waist, but your instinct is to shy away from his hold. You chuckle awkwardly and avoid his now curious gaze.

"Sorry, babe. Um...I'm wiped. I just want to get to bed," you say.

But Dean isn't fooled. His spidey sense is tingling, and his gut is almost never wrong.

His hand slides down your arm and grasps your hand, tugging you back into his arms. You utter a little gasp, but you ultimately smile at his familiar grin. There's a perceptive gleam in his eyes though.

"You know, seems like you've been pretty wiped lately," he says, raising a brow. "It's been a while since we, uh..."

He waggles his brows playfully, squeezing your hips. You want to smile, but you can't let yourself. You can't quite look at him either.

For Dean, it's another glaring red flag. His lips form a frown, and he dips his chin to find your eyes.

"Hey," he says. "What's goin' on? Talk to me."

His tone is so sincere, you have to blink against the sting of tears. Your lower lip wobbles, and Dean frowns in earnest. He presses a hand to your cheek and gets you to look at him with your watery eyes.

"Sweetheart, you gotta tell me what's wrong," he says, more gently, but serious.

Eventually, you're able to get it out. You can't bear the thought of him touching you, because lately, you can't even bear looking at yourself.

"I know I've been gaining weight, I just..." your voice breaks, and you gesture haphazardly at your body. "I'd get it if you're not really into this right now."

Dean's heart clenches. He's downright shocked at your confession, and more than a little disheartened. He presses a hand to your cheek and guides you to look at him.

"All right, hold up just one damn minute."

His calloused fingers gently brush away your tears, but his hands keep moving, slowly traveling down your body. They slide down your bare arms, skimming the sides of your breasts.

Your breath hitches. Your hand is still fisted over your beating heart, keeping your towel closed. His hands continue to move, molding to the curve of your waist over the fuzzy fabric.

"I'll admit, we've been pretty busy lately with everything we've got going on. But if you think that means I'm ever not into this delectable, sexy, voluptuous, goddess body you got rockin' the house?" he says, grinning that utterly Dean grin of his.

You bite your lip against a bubble of laughter. He's too fucking much sometimes.

Dean tugs you closer, until your hips fit snugly against his through his slacks. His tall, broad frame crowds you. His lips skim your cheek, then over your lips in a tease.

He squeezes the flesh of your hips, tender and sensuous.

Your heart flutters at the feeling.

"Mmm, I like you nice and soft," he murmurs against your cheek, close to your ear. "Feels that much better when I fuck you."

A small gasp gets trapped in your throat, while the gravel depths in his voice go straight to your pussy in a pulsing throb of warmth.

By the time he claims your lips in a devouring kiss, you're all too willing to let him peel your towel open, drop it to the floor, and guide you backwards onto the bed.

There he'll take his time, forging yet another mental map of every plush square inch of you.

Beau Arlen

Beau is a busy man. You understand that.

As Sheriff, his job demands a lot from him. He's also a father and has an ex-wife to contend with. (You knew that going in, and you've come to love Emily too.)

However, you can't help but start to take it personally when your sex life begins to suffer. He's often claimed being tired...but there's another suspicion that's been taking root in your mind, feeding your doubts and insecurities about how your boyfriend sees you, and about how you see yourself.

When you slip into bed at night, a kiss goodnight is all he gives you lately, before he's sighing deeply and closing his eyes, his soft snores soon filling the room.

One night, you try touching his shoulder, leaning in to kiss his bearded cheek. He hums at the pleasant feeling.

"You wanna...?" You trail the question in his ear, pressing more sweet kisses down his neck.

"Aw, sweetheart," he groans. "I'd like to, but I think I'd just smother you. I'm about to pass out."

You huff a laugh. You teasingly walk two fingers across his chest. "What if I make it easy for you?"

You shift onto your side. Resting a hand on his chest, you lean down to kiss him. He hums at the softness of it, but the more passion you try to imbue into each new kiss, Beau isn't as responsive as you would like. Eventually, you stop all together.

You frown, becoming disheartened. "You're not into this, I guess."

He opens his tired eyes, gazes up at you in apology. He opens his mouth to reply, but you beat him to it.

"You know it's been a month since we've had sex," you say.

Beau frowns, sliding a hand up your back. Only now does he notice, with appreciation, the familiar silky négligée you're wearing.

"Nah, that doesn't sound right," he says.

"Well, it is," you say. "I know you say you're tired, but I mean, you've had this job for as long as I've known you, Beau." Your eyes fall away from him. "So is the job, or...is it me?"

Beau's brows furrow. "Now wait a minute."

The mere thought dredges up what's been plaguing your mind recently, and it has your throat tightening. Tears of embarrassment and upset well up in your eyes, no matter how much you try to push it down.

You push away from him and turn away, crossing your arms. You try not to look at yourself in what used to be your favorite lingerie.

You can't stand the extra weight you've put on, mostly in your hips and ass, but in your middle and arms too.

You've gone through your own stress at work this year, with less and less time to try and take care of yourself, along with making sure Emily gets to and from school, cooking for the three of you, going to PTA meetings when Carla can't make it (since Beau often can't), and every other proverbial hat you wear.

Beau follows you, sitting up and laying a hand on your back. "Sweetheart--"

"I know I've put on a few. Hell, more than a few," you admit, hastily wiping under your eyes. "God, I can't even look at myself right now, let alone have you--"

"Hey. You stop right there," Beau says, more firmly. He gets you to turn around with his hand on your shoulder. He doesn't like the way you're curled in on yourself, as if hiding your body from his gaze.

That, and the sight of your tears damn well break his heart.

He cups the side of your face gently and presses a tender kiss to your forehead, followed closely by your lips.

You don't want to melt, but you just can't help it. You cling to the front of his shirt and lean into his kiss, like you've been lost in the desert, and his lips hold the breath of life.

You almost don't realize it when his arms slip around your waist. He earns a surprised yelp from you when he gathers you close against his chest and rolls you underneath him.

You land against the pillows in a huff. You stare up at his playful smile, his green eyes glinting with amusement, with fondness, and also with desire as they roam over your breasts, barely contained by dark green satin and lace.

"I've been neglecting you, haven't I?" he says. His voice is a low, earthy drawl as his gaze rakes over you. His big hand runs down your side and over your hip, then down your bare thigh, squeezing soft, tender flesh. He slips that hand under the satin night gown.

His hand can't span your entire thigh, but it's not for lack of trying. Your heart beats a staccato rhythm at the way he looks at you, your breath hitching when his thumb dips between your legs, brushing against the damp, silky fabric of your panties.

"It's not because I don't find you sexy as hell. Believe me, darlin', I do," he says. "You're so fuckin' beautiful, especially when you're all laid out for me here."

And he means what he says. You know it by the hardness you feel pressing against your hip. You slip your fingers into his hair with a sigh.

He bows his head to press kisses along your neck; down and down, he noses at the thin strap of your night gown. His path of kisses continue, and he indulges himself by dipping his tongue between the valley of your breasts.

"Filling out this lacy little thing so nice," he murmurs into your skin.

Your upset has turned to abject relief, but you still have to blink away the remaining urge to cry.

You let out a slightly tremulous breath.

"Oh, yeah?" you ask.

Beau pauses. He pulls away, just so he can look up and meet your eyes. He still finds insecurity in yours, so he meets you with a kiss filled with heat and intent.

He's now wide awake. He plans to take his sweet time taking you apart, inch by inch.

In fact, in the back of his mind, he also plans to do better about letting his deputies help him out more at the precint so he can have a better work-life balance.

(Because going a whole damn month without the taste of you is "no bueno," in his words.)

Soldier Boy (Ben)

The man may not be very patient, or particularly perceptive, but he's not an idiot.

At least, not about sex.

He knows that you've been feigning tiredness, and generally avoiding his touch.

What's strange is that you haven't been avoiding him. You still cook for him, still share conversation with him, still insist on having him spoon you on the couch while catching him up on the past four decades of TV shows and movies.

But when he begins to sneak a hand under your oversized shirt (an old one of Ben's), caressing your hip, then dipping down to your softer stomach on the way to your panties, breaking your concentration from the movie as unease laces down your spine.

You grab his wrist on reflex, instead lacing your fingers together.

"What's the matter now?" he asks.

You look over your shoulder at him and find him frowning at you, a divot between his brows. You don't manage to hold his gaze for long.

"Sorry," you say quietly. "I'm just, um, tired."

Ben doesn't believe you, and he's direct when he calls you out on it.

Reluctant to put what you've been feeling into words, you pause the movie and leave the couch (and him) behind.

Ben is annoyed enough to follow you (and underneath, he hides an edge of concern). The conflict leads into the bedroom, where you're still unwilling to open up.

He finally stops you from walking away from him, pinning you against the dresser by your hips. He practically looms over you as he demands an answer. He knows you're hiding something — something that's had you reluctant to let him touch you.

"Is there something you wanna tell me?" he says, a raw edge of warning in his tone. "What, are you fucking somebody else?"

Shock flashes in your eyes, making you angry. "What? No!"

"Well, you seem to be getting your fill somewhere, and it hasn't been from me--"

"Are you fucking serious? I'm not..." Your lips purse. You're actually hurt that he would hurl that accusation your way--and it couldn't be farther from the truth.

You tug your long shirt downwards and cross your arms, but it's more like you're hugging yourself, shielding your body away.

Ben's brows furrow a little bit more.

Eventually you get it out; you haven't been feeling up to being intimate because you're having a hard time even looking at yourself lately.

"I know I need to, um, get back in shape," you say, taking in a shaky breath to try and steady yourself. Your throat constricts, the beginnings of tears stinging your eyes. You want to look at anywhere but at Ben. "I just haven't had much time, with everything going on. But Annie gave me this guide on some different diets, like intermittent fasting, Keto--"

"Fasting," Ben intones. "What, you wanna fucking starve yourself? What the fuck is Keto?"

You sigh, barely resisting the urge to roll your eyes.

"No, not starve myself. And Keto's just..." The idea of trying to explain the new diet craze to your boyfriend is too daunting a task to consider. "Never mind. The point is, I have a plan. My hips, my thighs, my ass--"

Ben squeezes your hips at the mention of them. He happens to like the softness.

"Yeah, you've got a little extra. So fucking what?" he says, his voice deep and exacting as his gaze roams over your body. "Just gives me more to hold onto when I'm fucking you."

You utter a shocked laugh. "Ben!"

He grins lazily, and he turns you this way and that, admiring you from all angles. In his eyes, he doesn't find a side he doesn't like. You can't help but blush hotly under his gaze.

"Sweetheart, do whatever you want if it makes you feel good. But you don't need to starve yourself." His hands move to your ass, squeezing a bit harder on the plush flesh.

A yelp escapes you; he's pressing into you from the front as well, and you feel him heavy and already half-hard against you. You grab onto his arms for stability as your breaths quicken.

His attitude kind of surprises you, even though it soothes the frayed, insecure part of your soul that wants to be as beautiful and attractive in his eyes as he is in yours.

Ben is literally a super soldier. You're actually kind of jealous. The man can drug and booze hard and eat whatever the hell he wants, but his super metabolism just seems to absorb it into his washboard abs.

(The more you think about it, the more you want to smack him.)

Nothing about him isn't hard and lean, muscle and strength.

Only his hands have a measure of gentleless when they're holding you like this.

"I've just got so many stretch marks now," you begin to complain, in an emotional whisper.

He snorts. "And? You think it's anything I haven't seen? I'm not afraid of a little cellulite either."

At that, your head tilts in consideration. Butcher's Granny Fucker remark comes to mind. You bite your lip against a smirk.

Ben crooks a curled finger under your chin. He guides you to meet his eyes, before he lures you into a lusty kiss.

It's somewhat rough because of his beard, but you still smile afterwards, leaning against him now.

"Ain't nothing about you that I can't handle," he adds, all smirking and cocky. To prove his point, he hooks those strong hands behind your thighs and lifts you onto the dresser.

You gasp and cling to his shoulders. From there, he makes quick work of ridding the oversized shirt from your body, revealing you to the cool air and his hot gaze.

You take his face in your hands and bring him in for an even steamier kiss, your heart lighter and trembling with anticipation.

You've held yourself from him long enough, Ben thinks, and he has every intention of devouring you right on your old dresser -- before you two even get to the bed.

AN: 😮‍💨 I feel like each of these could've been even longer with their own one-shot loll. I wrote the Midnight Espresso-verse for Dean, partially to explore what his relationship would be like with a plus-sized reader. 💖💖

Let me know which one you liked most this time!

Join My Patreon 🌟 Get early access to new stories, bonus content, and first looks at upcoming stories, send me requests, and more!

Dean Winchester Imagines

Dean Winchester Masterlist

Beau Arlen Masterlist

Soldier Boy Masterlist

Main Masterlist 

Dean, Beau + Soldier Boy Tag List (Part 1)

If you would like to get notified every time I post a story, feel free to follow my side blog @zepskieswrites with notifications on so you don't miss out. 💜

@hobby27 @kazsrm67 @jacklesbrainworms @foxyjwls007 @mostlymarvelgirl

@thebiggerbear @roseblue373 @this-is-me19 @emily-winchester @riteofpassage77

@deans-spinster-witch @deans-baby-momma @sanscas @mxltifxnd0m @suckitands33

@kaleldobrev @spnwoman @samanddeaninatrenchcoat @pieandmonsters @trashmoutth

@globetrotter28 @adoringanakin @midnightmadwoman @chevroletdean @tayl0rfanatic

@chriszgirl92 @lyarr24 @ladysparkles78 @spnfamily-j2 @everything-is-all-clear

@deansbbyx @sarahgracej @chernayawidow @mimaria420 @stoneyggirl2

@fics-pics-andotherthings-i-like @waywardxwords @waynes-multiverse @twinkleinadiamondsky

@my-stories-vault @kayleighwinchester @rizlowwritessortof @cookiechipdough @sixxteenbullets

@tmb510 @syrma-sensei @artemys-ackles @malindacath @mrsjenniferwinchester

[short-honey-badger]

It's okay may I request yandere headcanons for shanks from one piece

Absolutely it is! I LOVE some yandere Shanks. It's one of my personal favorites! Hope you enjoy! Sorry it's a little short I'm still getting the hang of headcanons ❤️

Shanks simply adores you, and he isn't shy in letting you or anyone else know it. He doesn't care about PDA or if you are getting embarrassed at his behavior. Shanks would show you how much you meant to him at any time of day. Holding you tight to his chest, that muscular arm wrapped around your waist to make sure you can't go too far. Lips always a hairsbreath away from you, ready to smother you with kisses at any point.

He is everything that you have ever wanted, as long as you are loyal to him and he doesn't catch you talking with anyone outside of his crew. Shanks doesn't trust easily, so he definitely didn't trust outsiders. So if he's a little mean when he herds you away from the group of girls you've been cutting up with, well. That's just for your own good.

"You don't need to talk to them, baby. Not when I'm right here. You don't want me to be lonely, do you?"

He isn't above making you feel guilty if he wants something either. You don't want to wear the outfit he picked out specifically for you? Well, you just don't care about what he wants anymore. You end up wearing what he wants, even if it's not something you're totally comfortable with.

And don't get him started when he catches another man speaking with his sweetheart. That lighthearted, loving attitude is replaced with something dark and dangerous. The entire island will feel the change in Shanks when he slowly stands from his seat and stands behind you at the bar from where you'd gone to get drinks.

"This guy bothering you, doll? You need me to take care of him for you?"

But afterward, Shanks will make sure you know who you belong to. How much you love him and how you would never ever leave him while he takes you apart piece by piece. His hand and mouth map you out like it's the first time he had you all over again. He covers you with his lean body, making sure that you can't feel or see or sense anything other than him.

But despite how softly he handles you, his words are aggressive, mad, and possessive all at once and all for you. You are his, damn it, and Shanks didn't think he could live in a world where he couldn't be with you. He needs you to understand how much you own him, how much Shanks needs you like he needed oxygen.

"You should have known better than to talk to another man, baby. You know that I'm yours right, so it's only fair that you be mine. Where you just trying to make me jealous, sweetheart?"