#(i'm sorry i made it bittersweet)

[purgaytorysupremacy]

oh nuts. a life experience has given me a new layer of perspective on Cas's homosexual declaration of love to Dean.

recently I had occasion to tell a person I had feelings for them knowing full well they didn't feel even a twinge of the same thing for me. while the whole thing was a decidedly unpleasant experience, I kept laughing at myself internally bc I didn't want to say "the happiness is just in saying it" like fucking Castiel over here. (we don't need to talk about it, it's fine.) (I am happier having said it and it's kind of bullshit, but I digress.)

because the thing is, the happiness isn't in just saying it, right? the happiness is in the having. I made a whole TikTok "proving" that the Empty didn't come for Cas when he confessed his love, but rather when he realized Dean loved him back. even for Cas, the happiness was in the having, not in the saying, however brief it was.

and I've always been one of those people who rolled their eyes at the whole concept. why would the happiness be in just being, in just saying it, if it's right there in front of you to have. and then it hit me like a tonne of bricks (as I was washing my kitchen counters).

Cas really didn't think he could have Dean.

at all. in any capacity. he really, truly, and honestly felt to the depths of himself that Dean did not have any twinge of similar feelings, that this really was a Hail Mary shot-in-the-dark. and I think me, personally, really didn't understand that about Cas. that his belief in his love being unrequited was that unshakable.

something else I've been pondering is how audiences have so much more empathy for fictional characters who share traits that IRL they find objectionable and unappealing. but the thing is about fictional characters is that we follow them around in their most private, vulnerable moments. we see Dean mourning Cas when he dies, literally killing himself because he can't live without him, but it's so easy to forget that we're the omniscient ones here.

Cas never knew.

Dean's whole thing was pushing him away, keeping him at arm's length, making it seem like whatever heroic thing he does for Cas he'd do for anyone. he downplays how important it is for Dean to share the Deancave with him, to show him his favourite movies, share his favourite songs. he acts like the things Cas does for him don't mean that much to hide how much they do mean. he uses "we" whenever he even gets in the vicinity of expressing a feeling. "We were worried." "We're glad you're back." "We needed a win." "You're our brother." The audience knew the difference. We saw how he'd clench his jaw or swallow hard or make a face that said "God, I'm being such an idiot". Because we saw him in those little moments. We got to see the cracks in the mask.

but Cas never knew.

the self-hating angel of Thursday was never going to think it was all a way for Dean to protect himself. obviously, that's the delicious tragedy of it all, but what I think I realized at the end of all that is Cas confessing his love to a Dean who didn't love him back wouldn't have worked. Because the happiness really is in the having. If happiness was just in saying it, then The Empty would have come before Cas even finished getting the words out of his mouth.

so Cas's plan wouldn't have worked if Dean didn't love him back.

this is just me yapping on about my own nonsense, but I do think it's really interesting. there's contentment in "just saying it". there's freedom and relief and an unburdening. I think one can argue that it makes being happy in the being easier. there is certainly some joy in telling a person you think that highly of them. but true happiness?

nah.

true happiness is always going to only be in the having. Cas didn't understand the difference until he experienced it, and by then, it was too late.

[she-will-destroy-u]

i'm speaking to a wall actually on this blog BUT one of my favourite underrated snow & emma scenes is when emma breaks down crying and snow instantly says "i have no idea how to comfort my own daughter, it's the first thing a mother learns and i don't know how" honestly this quote has been stuck with me ever since i watched ouat and ppl have the audacity to say snow was the worst mother ever imaginable

[transmasc-rose]

You ever think about how Noctis FFXV was doomed from the start.

Like thats the POINT of the game obviously but I still keep going back to it. In most games, even if the protagonist dies at the end, its a defiance of fate. It's "I'll take you with me" or "I won't let you do this"

But in FFXV

Everything that happened with Noctis and Ardyn, both of their deaths, how they suffered, was preordained by the gods.

There are AU-type endings, like the one in Episode Ignis, or the one in the book, where things go better. And the book was the written version of what they were GOING to make the true ending. But they never made that into the game.

Noctis was born to die. He dies.

Ardyn was abandoned to die. He dies.

And that's just. It. Thats the ending. Thats where we land. Ardyn was doomed by god to take the role of sacrifice and antichrist, and Noctis was doomed before he was even born to the role of sacrifice and saviour and there's nothing to be done.

You don't fix it. You don't fight it. You just walk into your fate and die.

And there's just something so much more upsetting about that than in narratives where death is the defiance of fate. Like the story stares at you in the face, and tells you giving up is the right thing to do.

[ishikawayukis]

missing young k hours D-21

[aventvrina]

@halothes gambled:

the fate of a gem is to be desired, cut and sold. such is the steadfast belief of the blond man, a notion that holds truth in the hearts of many, perhaps even his own. ❝ i don't find myself agreeing. ❞ sunday declares, ❝ rather than being desired, cut and sold, i believe its destiny should be to be cherished. ❞ he muses gently, leaning forward to place a delicate kiss upon the man's forehead. ❝ the fate of a gem lies not merely in its material value, but in its ability to be treasured and loved. ❞

He all but stops, cheeks warming, gaze fleeting as the words sink in. He wants to blame the tender gesture that renders him speechless but actually it's the belief. Destined to be cherished. Ability to be treasured, to be loved. It's a dangerous thought, to think his end is not that of death. Sunday always has a way with words.

"Ability you say." Aventurine wonders if he has it in him. It's a difficult thing to accept when his birth dictated his worth, to his people and the rest of the verses, the expectations were there before he could even open his eyes. He's not supposed to be able, he's meant to just be, meant to follow the tell tale of the gem whether he's capable of withstanding it or not. Yet all those who believed in his worth are no more and he's currently left to prove himself to those who consider him even less than a speck. But Sunday speaks of inner worth instead of bestowed, and the kiss to his forehead is a quiet proof of his belief in it's existence.

He's not sure what to say, what to promise. It'd be so easy to fall back on the Aventurine, to shrug the gesture and taunt the man, remind him of who they're supposed to be, how they're supposed to act. In a rare moment of honesty, silence speaks. He can't really say much else, he would win nothing by airing out his actual thoughts on himself nor what he's been put through. The less Sunday knows the better, like that, the halovian can keep on believing in whatever inner worth he thinks Aventruine may have. A gem doesn't chose it's value nor destiny but if it could.

If it could.

A gloved hand seeks the other's and is rewarded with warmth, he musters a smile, however practiced it might be, it'll do to not shatter the moment. Even he finds himself deserving of it in spite of it all.

"That's a lovely sentiment." It's all it is, a sentiment. But he still ponders it.

Sunday is an earnest idealist, his core quality and flaw. For all the things that make it easy to understand one another, all the similarities, the thing that distinguishes them the most is their view. Aventurine accepts reality as it is, all it's flaws, all it's injustices, the roles he must take to keep going and all the ruin it brings him. The cards are dealt regardless of fortune, the only thing one can do is to play. Sunday wishes to end the game, he tried so, almost did it, but in the end.

In the end Aventurine's cheeks are warm, the light feeling of a kiss lingers on his skin and he finds himself wishing for that reality. He places a kiss to the back of Sunday's hand, eyes finally meeting, a belief of his own, no matter how sheepish and unsure. While he's not as grand as the cosmos nor as important as humanity, perhaps he can muster the ability to make himself important to one person, regardless if he has value or not.

"Wouldn't be such a bad fate for the gem."

[megaclubdiolis]

柄本 佑 || 「光る君へ」 (2024) · 第四十一回 「揺らぎ」 ​​​

[its-me-hyunjin]

NO ONE TALK TO ME, CHAPTER 15 OF SLWY IS FINALLY HERE

star lost with you | hyunjin au | part 15

pairing: idol! hyunjin x artist! reader

synopsis: working in a quaint little art store, you’ve had the honor of meeting all kinds of people, but you’ve never met somebody like him.

there were many reasons hyunjin returned to his hometown; a getaway from the ephemeral and fast-paced life of the city, so he could fall in love with life again. he thought he was prepared for everything, to study art in the way that he’s always wanted to, but what he didn’t anticipate was meeting you. hwang hyunjin realises that sometimes, the best things in life happen unplanned.

genre:friends to lovers, so much angst, smut, fluff, set in the idolverse, mutual pining, unrequited love, forbidden romance, slowburn (!!!) soulmate au (kind of), star-crossed lovers

warnings:cursing, mature content, fancy drinking, mutual pining, sexual tension, so much angst, kissing, making out, dirty talk, fingering, grinding, dry humping, dom!hyunjin, jealousy, more angst

word count:35K (ik the wc makes it feel v long but it’s really not that much haha)

a/n: im so excited to be coming back with this huge of a chapter for you guys. so much goes down and im insanely excited to share this next phase of my story with you. its v long so pls get comfortable with a blanket and snacks. I would recommend rereading the last chapter, if you can! thank you for still being here.

i recommend that you can listen to my star lost playlist here!

important: all works are fiction, and do not in any way represent the real personalities or real people, they exist only as faceclaims, and are fictional characters.

masterlist

He had fucked up. Even in the dimly lit drive-in theatre, the guilt on his face was evident. Hyunjin had never looked this devastated.

“I need to talk to you” 

That’s what he had said. The gnawing feeling in your gut got worse. Those words together, in that order, was never a good sign. You knew as much, and you knew whatever he had to tell you was going to be something bad.

“Why did you leave in the middle of the film?” You asked, gaze darting between him and your friends.

Yuqi was staring wide-eyed, watching this unfold, soda cup clutched in her hands, and Felix…he looked beyond irritated.

The movie could still be heard all the way over here. You weren’t too far from the projection screen, and the speakers were right next to you. It was a horrible place to be having this conversation, but you couldn’t wait. 

What was he holding back?

You’d always felt the safest around Hyunjin, but every breath between you right now was uncertain. He was fidgeting, sliding the silver ring off and on his finger.

“I was on my way back to you when—” Hyunjin paused, and the veins in his neck were prominent as he strained to be heard over the movie, “—when Felix found me. He wanted to talk”

Keep reading

[bookwyrminspiration]

Quil I know I promise you a summary of Ninjago, but uh. Tumblr is not letting me post it all at one (it’s too long apparently), so uh give me a few days to figure that out.

But in other news, I have started to learn Cancerby MCR in my piano lessons! It’s kind of funny how it’s in major not minor, yet it has super sad lyrics. So it sounds happy but it isn’t. My piano teacher surprised me with it today (I have mentioned an interest in doing it but since I’m doing Cebturies by fall out boy). Anyway, I wanted to tell you because I wanted to tell someone.

Anyway, I wish you luck in editing

-⚙️

No worries! Take as long as you need--if you break it up into multiple sections, you should be able to send it in parts under whatever limit they've imposed. And then I can add the additional parts into the first to keep it all in one place

I must admit I've never heard or heard of Cancerby before, but I hope you enjoy learning it! When I played piano I never really did any popular/lyrical music, nothing anyone would really recognize. I don't think my teacher would've been against it I just think I did not apply myself enough </3--not because I didn't want to, I think there was an underlying executive functioning and social anxiety thing going on, but I didn't have words for it at the time

Either way, very excited for you! And thank you for the luck, I'm going strong and think I will be able to pull it off :)

[urautismdiagnosis]

B

Please give me your headcanons/ideas on Ranger Marsh, and my life is yours🙏 (He's my favorite old man yeehaw squeeeeeee)

YEAH HE IS

Ranger marsh is THE FATHER OF ALL TIME to me because listen-

I live in Florida. Whenever they talk about manatees or red tide or the effects of a cold snap im like YOOO I KNOW ABOUT THAT!!!

I need yall to understand 🙏 hes part of the fcking ecosystem.

He understands the needs and behaviours and everything about the everglades and its creatures. He knows how to talk to them and they know him and love him. He chooses to go out and help right away with this " I gotcha dont worry about nothing!" attitude

Hes so connected with it and its beautiful-

Its just that sense of community hes got with all the creatures in the everglades that makes me 🥺 hes got such a kind heart and he seems like the person to choose to do something because someone has to yk?

Alot of people would be offput by all the bugs and heat and etc, but he just goes oh well and keeps going along and I think that is SO special

And im gonna be honest here. Alot of people ARENT. Like at all, and they do the dumbest sht

One time my dad and I were on a board walk near a river that had gators in it and there were signs about it too. We saw this??? Fcking guy in a whole business suit with his kid wanting to give a little gator fcking store bought chicken nuggets??? 💀🙏 we like kindly explain uhhh heyyy don't do that cuz u don't want gators to associate humans with food or (gestures broadly to all the many reasons u shouldn't feed wild animals)

And then we continued our walk, but when we turned back we fcking saw a mini crowd (with several small kids leaning THROUGH THE GAP in the railing) surrounding a guy with a kiddie fishing pole trying to??? Idk feed the gator the chicken nuggets.

There were signs about not disturbing the wildlife.

I didnt exaggerate a single aspect of this btw.

Like thank fck gators are ambush predators and not chasers cuz those guys can run and climb like nobody's business... and hide under cars

SIDE TANGEANT ASIDE alot of people just aren't in tune with and have like a totally unrealistic and detached from reality expectation of that kinda nature. But ranger marsh (i headcanon that his first name is Rover btw cuz not only is that a flooding guy name but cmon- RIVER MARSH?!!) Is always so patient about explaining that kind of stuff to the others in the show

Hes got an understanding and a system on how to handle things.

Also I do appreciate how he struggles with understanding technology and prefers old fashioned ways. Because while there are alot of folks like that, alot of people can be... very aggressive about it if u disagree with them :(

But ranger marsh, while he can't understand, he still does come around and appreciates it the best he can yk? Like sure he doesn't get WHY and he sucks at it, but he comes around and appreciates it, even if it isn't always for him

The awe he felt when the gup k went under water and he saw the world he loves from an entirely new angle? Oh my god my heart-

He would absolutely take in any stray creature that needs help, he feels like the kinda guy that would've tried to help a wild animal heal up in the garage when they were a kid and everyone else told him not to touch it 🥺

Also personal headcanon time:

I dont think this guy could keep a secret for the life of him. Like this guy doesn't even realize, he feels like the guy would would see something weird and then go " well ill be i never did see anythin as strange as that before" to a fcking bush or the sky

He sort just has this factual way of speaking that reminds me of people who go "well yeah well when ya go n talk her dont mention x and x cuz I'm pretty sure she's suspecting her boyfrens been cheatin on her and oh I wasn't supposed to share that was i."

Also I feel like maybe I'm just projecting and making him autistic but like??? Has a hard time dealing with change??? Likes being in the wild with a bunch of creatures??? Probably needs his "two hours of contemplating on the back porch" every day ????

Hes absolutely the type to want to dig in the mud for hours thank you, he absolutely went fck living a normal life in society I want to be friends with the animals under my porch

I desperately want him to basically go "hm ok ur staying here for tonight" to calico jack who is the equivalent of a (very kind and gentle) feral stray 🙏

I'm gonna make a post about their dynamic later lol

Cuz likes its an old funky pirate cat with isolation issues thats probably scared of gators and Caimens for I lost me leg reasons and hasn't had like a normal meal in probably over a decade at least

(Cj probably can't handle dairy but he's gonna try (and fail) ranger marsh probably makes delicious mac n cheese)

also cj literally uses a peg leg that can NOT be good for his back, like there's so much special care needed if u have a proper prosthetic but a peg leg is like 💀🙏 so bad

I feel like CJ is this very kind and gentle soul, but the second he meets someone his age (cuz they ARE around the same age) he just becomes a wet gremlin, ill yap more about it on their dynamic post tho

As for the question of "ayyo whats up with ranger marshes wife or rather tweaks mom what's up with that"

I dont think tweaks mom died or anything, I think they just divorced when she was in like middle school and then he got her legos to try to help her feel better 😭

probably just cuz of personal differences... but yk some people can get kinda :| during divorces and stuff

I feel like they were probably high school sweethearts that got married before they even grew as people

It seems to me like tweak was probably homeschooling and definitely was skipping grades and whatever

I liek to think she has lego models of all her gups and that she had an emo phase in middle school 🙏 she still has the spirit in her soul but let's be real she's probably too busy elbows deep in an engine to upkeep that stuff anymore lol

(Ik we saw a younger tweak before in the show but like who says it wasn't at a different point in her life lol)

I dont think she was necessarily into emo specifically as a way to rebel her own parents btw (at least not her dad) but just because she liked the culture lol and was probably on my space as a teen

She 100% tried to take her dad to a monster truck show at least once and he absolutely did not understand the hype 😭 but tweak was inspired to take inspiration from the mix of animal designs and unique shapes into something more eco friendly and versatile tho

Like the gup k is just a wetland monster truck 🙏

She absolutely had years of trial and error with all sorts of gizmos that exploded at least a few times before she got the hang of engineering

Probably tried to make all sorts of things to help the little critters her pa took care of

Might be part of the reason he doesn't understand tech that well because when ur a kid without alot of money u gotta work with what u have and sometimes that doesn't always work out XD but hey restriction of choices can lead to alot of unique and creative solutions!

idk the exact reason why ranger marsh and his wife would've divorced,maybe it was just a difference in how they envisioned their life styles and the fact ranger marsh seems a bit too "introverted and quiet" for a more social life and environment with a normal job tbh

(Cough autism cough they are both autistic in different ways cough)

but the everglades have always been tweaks home and I doubt she wanted to leave. I think she still talks to her mom and stuff but just... not that much

I dont really think ranger marsh would've tried again in that type of relationship, hes too busy being busy with life and enjoying the small moments

And hot cocoa from the machine that tweak gave him as a gift

He absolutely helped her keep her room organized and tidy as a kid tho, but look at her room into he octopod now XD

Also SOMEONE MAKE HIM SAY " BLESS THEIR HEART" PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE THATS THE NUMBER ONE SOUTHERN SAYING-

Like 🥺 idk if yall know but bless ur heart can mean alot of different stuff depending on the context- it can go from "oh my goodness thats awful I can empathize with that and I wish them the best" to "well.... that person has no FCKING idea what they're doing but.... bless that idiots heart hes trying😂 🙏"

[nemesyaaa]

a long way from the playground // rafe cameron x reader

summary ; when you met rafe on the playground of the school, he was such a crybaby but you were there for him as his most beloved (and unique) friend until that accident which happened in high school.

seven years after that argument, you met him again. and mostly, seven years after, the crybaby that you know became the big boy that everyone knows.

genre ; childhood bestfriends to strangers to lovers (literally my favorite trope of the world), slight of angst, fluff, and smut. he fell first (and alone at first lmfao...)but she fell harder trope. one-shot.

warnings ; argument, family issues, mentions of cheating, smut, miscommunication, mentions of anger issues, fear of abandonment/being alone, jealousy, first time/virginity, past/present, violence ?( reader slapping rafe), being pogue/kook is not a big deal, mentions of rafe's mother.

author's note : it's 4k. was inspired by eighteen by one direction and to build a home by the cinematic orchestra. trying myself on something soft and kinda angst (but more in a bittersweet way.)

rafe was not always being the big boy everyone knew. it had taken seven years between the two of you for him to become stronger and more mature. when you met him, he was a whiny little boy who loved to fight, but cried every time you treated his wounds. you always managed to make him smile when you placed a bandage on the bleeding bruise and promised him that if he calmed down, the injury would disappear.

you started being there for him from the moment you were just seven years old.you understood that rafe needed someone in his life, because no one was there for him. you never understood why, but people loved to say, even the teacher and his family that there was something weird about him.

you heard the others spreading rumors about it a couple times. it was so easy to criticize others rather than judge yourself. at that moment, rafe didn't scare anyone. it was not because he had the prestigious cameron name that it made his classmates fear him.

he was like everyone else, there was no kook or pogue. everyone was too young to be different, the prey could be anyone in the group, but the leader always remained the same.

the first time you and rafe cameron were really close was on mother's day. the whole class had been assigned to make a gift and in the most saddest way possible, everyone had a mother to give their present to. everyone except Rafe, but you didn't know about that before the accident.

having finished making your own gift, you surprised your friend from behind and he dropped his vase on the ground. you had never felt so sad in your entire life when you saw the broken glass on the floor. you could clearly feel your heart cracking in your ribcage, your veins freezing, and your breath dying in your throat, the hot rush of tears inside your eyes.

"rafe, i'm really sorry. I...really, I didn't mean to..."

“it’s okay, y/n. I didn’t have anyone to give it to anyway...”

his voice cracked slightly in his knotted throat as he managed to not show you how hurt he was. he was trying to be strong, and not a crybaby — that nickname that you given him every time. and his eyes had become so full and wet with tears, the blue ocean of his eyes drowning in the hot little boy whines.

rafe cameron was a broken child, not just since you broke his vase. no, always. since he no longer had his mother. and you realized it in such a cruel way that you wanted to disappear.

he had so many tears, and you felt like they could flow down his cheeks forever, that even an eternity wouldn't be enough to wipe them away. and even if you had been a siren, you would never have been able to swim in water as salty as his present sadness.

"my mother...left me..." he admitted softly between sniffles, his nose red and leaky.

you felt bad but you took him against you in a tender hug, and placed your hand on his back to start caressing him gently, until he was soothed. "but you have me. and i will not leave. you know rafe, when i love someone, it's serious. i sincerely would like to make sure that you never feel alone again."

you looked into his eyes. you couldn't be more sincere.

and maybe it was from that day that rafe cameron fell in love with you, and he had never felt so good because he never thought that love could be so heartwarming and kind.

if you thought he would be the type to hide his feelings, or run away from them, you were wrong. it was the first time he felt this comfort, this happiness and he needed to show it to you. even for his family he did not have such great affection.

he loved giving you gifts. he had seen and heard that the girls really liked those kind of things so every day since Mother's Day, you received flowers, boxes of chocolates, photos of yourself accompanied by notes, volumes of your favorite book saga, CD's of your favorite singers. rafe couldn't let go of you.

since you didn't love him back, he fed on the affection and attention you gave him.

rafe took everything you had to give him - a look, a smile, a kiss on the cheek, a hug, an earphone for the two of you to share, a day in your room watching movies, a ride on the bike of your big brother, an afternoon playing in the sea.

there was nothing strange about him, nothing like the rumors could say.

“rafe, you didn’t have to give me that.” you exclaimed when you saw a necklace with his initials.

“but I wanted to. Don’t you like it?”

"I love..."

Rafe would have loved to hear that you were talking about him saying those words but he was also so impatient. every boy his age had a girlfriend, and he wanted you to be his. he was not an exception to the eager youth.

what was the point of being rich, of being able to have everything if you weren't included among his treasures? he wanted you, his only friend and the only girl who mattered to him.

But also, he was lost because he was experiencing one-sided love, because above all, it hurt so much not to be loved in return, to be in love with someone to love them to a point where it mattered more than himself.

the first time you kissed rafe cameron on the lips was in high school. you were drunk, you hadn't done it on purpose.

you threw up right after, but he never blamed you. he knew it was the alcohol, not him. he even held your hair while you vomited everything into the bowl. "I'm sorry, I'm sorry...I..."

"I'm not mad. you're just drinking too much. I should have been more careful. you know i can't be angry with you."

yes, rafe had anger issues, serious problems managing his hard feelings. sometimes he even scared you. sometimes you even felt like he would be able to kill someone.

rafe’s hands could be deadly but whenever they were on you, pressed to your cheeks, against your hips, on your thighs, inside your hair, on your neck, they were always calm and gentle.

after that, you would never have guessed that the first time rafe cameron had touched himself, it was thinking about your lips on his mouth, something so small and pathetic but it was enough to make him so vulnerable and unable to think about anything else.

he imagined your pretty lips around his cock instead of his useless large hand, your wet open mouth pumping him as your tongue covered every inch of his growing girth. and he hated himself for having impure thoughts about you, because you looked like an angel. he had no desire to make you dirty but oh fuck — he had cum on his stomach, spurting the warm loads painting his flesh. and god he wished you were there to make him pure again.

after that, rafe had tried many times to get you out of his head. he thought of porn. but he imagined your body, your voice, your moans in place of all these actresses, and that was the only way he could come.

dating girls but it never worked. you were always the one he wanted out of all the ones that existed.

distance from you but he always came back, because without you it had always been like being in the dark. and how could he lives in darkness without the one who gave him light?

but above all, you were the one who understood him best, who always managed to soothe him, and above all who never judged him in his moments of weakness.

you were his home, where he took refuge when he had a problem with his father, when he could no longer stand Sarah's presence, when Rose was getting on his nerves, when Topper and Kelce were behaving like idiots. because you were the only person who couldn't make his existence even more shitty.

— now it's been over ten years since rafe cameron was in love with you, but only seven since you disappeared from his life.

you had another life now, a boyfriend who cheated on you and who was always angry with you, and pushing you under and under. you were stuck with the wrong guy.

you had always dreamed of being an artist, you had specialized in painting in college hoping to pursue your dream.

rafe had always accompanied you in that dream, volunteering as a model for all your portraits but you always ended up throwing all the drawings away because you were too perfectionist. for you, it was never good enough. but for your best friend, it was a masterpiece, the work of a true painter.

you drew in your spare time, but each time, you ended up drawing rafe's face. you had no idea why he was your only inspiration even though you had a boyfriend, why it was always him who motivated you to continue painting.

it was strange how rafe had made a huge impact in your life, the only boy you actually had.

— a year later, on a huge impulse, you offered your art to a museum that regularly held exhibitions. you had made arrangements with the director and tried to find rafe's contact two nights after.

you searched for his social media, last names in the directory, asked his friends but nothing had helped you. you had spent a week trying to find it but it felt like you had lost him forever, that it was like a flower that you should have cherished instead of letting it perish.

you had been a monster. you abandoned him...like his mother. like everyone else.

every time you thought about him, you always ended up crying. if it wasn't love because you were sure you didn't love him, why did it hurt so much? why did it kill you so much?

rafe had never been capable of hurting you, and yet you had stabbed him without even looking at him. you had let him give you his heart, and you had stepped on it. and maybe that was why he couldn't fall in love anymore because you had ruined all his chances of being with someone else.

rafe had confessed his feelings to you while you were in his room, talking about everything and nothing, the future and the past like children. he had grown up. he was no longer the little whiny child you had known but a big boy, the one who now had big arms to protect you, hands to dry your tears, body to warm you.

“i feel like you want to tell me something, big boy. so say it, don't make me wait or beg for it.” you teased him by stopping the movie you were watching under the blankets.

"If you weren't so blind and stupid, I wouldn't have to be so embarrassed. i really have to do all the work all the time. "

“Come on, confess it. Do you want me to close my eyes?”

“ close that eyes, and shut that mouth too. ” he nodded, and the minute you closed your eyes, his mouth found yours to kiss you.

“what does that mean?”

“are you being stupid on purpose?” he replied. "It wasn't a mistake for me in the club...I mean, I really liked it like now. Don't make me say it, y/n. "

you were embarrassed. you didn't like rafe. finally you loved him like a best friend. he had always been the friend you dreamed of, not the one you wanted to end up with.

In contrast, rafe always believed that a girl could never break his heart. but you had shown him today that he was wrong, because you had managed to hurt his feelings, to make them so depressing.

you had this control on him that he had exactly over everyone else.

"Am I still the crybaby I was to you? I've changed. "

"that has nothing to do with it. rafe, you can't love someone and think that they will love you back. love doesn't work like that, and sometimes it doesn't even work. "

“you love someone else, right?” his tone was now louder, becoming more aggressive.

"I...n-n..."

"you love someone? who is it? tell me who it is? or don't tell me, I'll find out eventually. do you think that guy deserves you more than me ? "

“rafe, you’re scaring me. don’t yell at me.”

"why? you have the right to reject me but I don't have the right to raise my voice with you... let me laugh...since you like joking with me now.” there was a sick smile on his face that you hated, and made you shake.

"Rafe, I'm not rejecting you..."

“oh, y/n, please don’t lie to me. you’ve never been a hypocrite, so don’t be one now. don't be mean sweetheart because i would die rather than hurting you. just admit that you have someone, that you like playing with my feelings. do you think you're superior to me ? well, don't forget that i'm the only guy that give you attention so you're not that special. i made you special.”

"you win, rafe cameron. congratulations. i'm leaving."

you stood up towards the door but he rushed toward you and blocked your way.

“rafe. move.”

"asking like that? oh no, sweetheart. I've seen you be nicer than that, so you're going to give me the pleasure of asking me with better words."

“don’t make me push you. ”

he laughed so hard that your ego had been hurt. "because you think i'm still the weak, whiny cameron from the past that you used to manipulate ? tskk tskk, wrong. it's over. i hold the power in the relationship now. "

“rafe, I don’t want us to argue.”

“ oh yea ? so why do you want to leave? give me just one good reason at least !”

“you have to let me go.”

"and if I refuse? ah yes, I forgot, my family probably loves you more than me so they will surely come and help you if you cry or scream. so, please, show me how much my family hates and doesn't care about me. ”

you felt the sadness in his voice despite the loud tone, and the condescension.

"you can't leave. what kind of girl are you? the kind who likes to break hearts?”

it was your turn to be mad at rafe so you slapped him. louder than you expected because his face had turned against the door, and a red bruise had marked his skin. you regretted your action but you didn't apologize. because rafe had to learn to respect you.

" excuse me ? I was always there for you, when you were in pain, when you were angry with the whole world, when your father was so cruel to you that I had nightmares because I was afraid that will be the reason i will lost you one day, when you were crying, when you were fighting, I was there when there was absolutely no one for you, I was there when you were the little boy that no one wanted. You have absolutely no right to blame me for anything and consider this slap at the end of my sentence because I will not apologize. I have always been nice to you. so don't make me regret this. so yes, well done rafe, you managed to ruin everything. I'm sorry that you are in love with me and unfortunately I don't have this feelings for you, but now you lost me, and all the chances you had for us to end up together so you can sequester me here if you want, but know that even if I stayed in this room until the end of my days, I would still have no feelings for you, not a fucking single one. “

he was angry, his nostrils were flaring, and his fists were clenched against his thighs. you only had to see the swelling of his veins around his temples and around his neck to feel that it was literally boiling inside his body.

"you haven't changed. you've just grown. you'll cry when my back is turned.”

— back in the present, you wore a pretty dress to your art exhibition. you chose "blue eyes" as a subject with multiple paintings representing Rafe's gaze in different expressions. you had even managed to capture his look when he was in love with you.

so, you hoped that this evening he would come, that he had accepted your invitation, that your letter had arrived safely at its destination. you had received so many compliments but none had made you happy, none had managed to really make you smile, even those from your boyfriend who you had found in the hallway kissing someone else.

you didn't even cry because you knew it. it was just more horrible to see him in real life because he looked so happy.

“get out of here.” you reacted without even shouting.

“baby wait, I can explain everything….”

"explain what to me? your explanations are stuffed in this girl's mouth right now."

"I'm not going to leave." he replied.

“ oh yes you will leave. and if I see a single tear on her face, surely not alive. but yea, dare you to stay.” a cold voice growled and warned behind your back that you recognized it by heart.

you turned to admire rafe who stood in front of you, still just as handsome, and above all taller. you wanted to be a pure and shed tears just to see your ex-boyfriend suffer but you were too busy rejoicing in rafe's presence.

“Who are you?” your ex-boyfriend replied.

"oh if I told you, I think it would break your heart but you don't seem to have one so I'll be honest. I'm definitely the only boy she likes. i'm sorry if she made you think that she has something for you. but believe me, will be nothing contrary to what i will do to you if your ass is still here in those free seconds i let you run.. "

“raf…”

he shushed you with his mouth. "You'll have your moment, but wait. this is a conversation for boys, and unless you're hiding a dick between your legs, you're not in."

you smiled at his stupidity. the two boys had gone out, and Rafe had returned a few minutes later.

“Oh my god, you didn’t cry,” you teased him gently about his whiny past, clapping your hands.

“Was I crying that much?”

“Like a baby.”

"but I have changed...and..."

you felt like the words were really struggling to come out. his voice was blocked and he didn't look you in the eye. he scratched the back of his neck. "I'm sorry. I was totally stupid."

“apology accepted.”

“does that mean I have the right to a kiss?”

When you were little, you always gave Rafe a kiss on the cheek when he apologized. the memory made you smile tenderly.

you stood on your tiptoes to reach his lips with your mouth, and he lifted you by your ass to help you.

“you were always mine, baby. even when you left, even when he was here.”

“ because it’s as much to love you as to hate you, rafe cameron.”

“Is that why you dedicated this entire exhibition to me? I’m flattered.”

“you didn’t leave my head even though you left my life.”

“I haven’t stopped thinking about you either. and I still think of you now. "

“ah yes? and what do your thoughts say about me?”

"that I finally have the girl I've always waited for. and that I still want her just as much."

"How about you show me how much...I mean...not with your lips, big boy. It's time to show me how much you've grown.”

you had gone to his hotel room after the party. he had accompanied you during the rest of the event, never taking his eyes off you as if he was afraid of losing you again. he even felt himself tighten his arm around your waist. he didn't keep his hands in his pocket, because you were there. and above all that you finally loved him.

it was beautiful. you had been the first person rafe cameron had loved, the first person he had broken his heart, and also, the first person who had loved him. you were destined to each others.

in his room, you were surprised to see how gentle he was with you, that he had softly placed your body on his sheets like a princess. he took off his t-shirt and you salivated just seeing his muscular chest, his arms turned into huge biceps, his flat stomach turned into voluminous abs with a magnificent v-line. “ It seems like you worked hard to please me. ”

“ oh babe, don't waste your drool on yourself when you can literally splash it on my dick. but maybe my girl wanted it dry”

“ you're really big now. ”

“ wait, something bigger is coming at you. ”

you were in love with the way your boy had become a man. you were proud of him, you undid his belt, and pulled him by the leather of the accessory before sliding it down and wrapping it around his neck to push him towards you and kiss him again. rafe was so desperate for you, he was hard in his pants to the point where it was painful, and even his tongue against yours was lost in a messy burst of both of you saliva.

he had spread your legs, and removed his pants, before pulling you against him by the thighs to bring you back against his hips.

“spit.” he held out his hand to let you spit on his palm and coated his hard cock with your drool, using your saliva as some kind of lube.

he started touching himself quickly, slowing up and down, a tight grip around his veiny and rocking length. you placed your fingers against his to accompany him in his movements, while devouring him with your eyes.

“fuck, you’re too good for me.”

“so make me as bad as you.” you responded by separating the two lips of your cunt with your fingers to show him the way. “fuck me. now.”

“did you have sex with him?”

“no…” you admitted shyly. “I’m still a virgin. Does that bother you?”

“I’ve already had sex, does that bother you?”

"no, because I'm sure you've never been able to cum without thinking about me. You're so obsessed with me.”

he pushed his leaking and wet tip against your soaked folds, rubbing himself lightly on them. “can I ?”

“oh rafe, it's only if you don’t do it that we’re going to have a problem.” you laughed gently.

and it didn't take more for him to split your pussy with his throbbing dick to startly making his way inside you. he had done it gently, partly because he didn't want to hurt you, but because you were incredibly tight. he held your hands, before placing his lips on yours, and driving you crazy with slow thrusts, his hips gently bucking against yours.

his cock stretched you softly, moving back and forth and sliding inside your canal that surrounded every inch of his dick. once he felt your body relax, he fasted up the pace, your moans automatically becoming louder. you had never been fucked until now, but you understood now, why people liked it.

rafe was completely buried in you from his tip, to the pelvis which was slamming against your thighs and the mattress. he couldn’t be more in love with you. you were perfect.

he loved hearing your screams from across the room, knowing that he was the only one to make you moans like that. you were completely wet, and your dripping pussy helped him pound you quicker, and especially harder. he couldn't get enough of your face completely ruined by tears and pleasure, but especially of your walls squishing him until he felt his own stomach twitching by your trembling body sticking to his, the way your part convulsing around him as the strokes went deeper and deeper.

the bottom lip of your mouth was covered in your own saliva, your back arched against the sheets, and your entire body stimulated, spasms covering it, and forcing you to squirm in every direction.

his blue eyes were lost in your gaze. you didn’t know how but he always managed to go further, hitting every sensitive gummy and soaked spot only to ram it again.

you let out a muffled and depraved sound when his cock slammed into your insides all the way to your stomach. you threw your head back, completely losing control.

“I'm never going to stop and you never going to leave if you keep giving me those eyes. don't feel dizzy now, it's just the beginning. ” he blurted out as he continued to pound you, making your pussy dripping even more all over him, leaving him no choice but to speed up his movements to avoid any waste of your fluids. “ i really want to fuck you all the night. don't make that face, you made me wait for more than fucking ten years, it's just now so fair. ”

you had already had an orgasm, but his energy had doubled. you didn't know what time you stopped, but when you woke up, you were completely exhausted like your body had been used all night.

you wondered how different your relationship was going to be now, and if rafe was going to take responsibility for everything he did last night. you had too many questions, and not enough answers. you took a shower while waiting for him to wake up.

when you finally had the chance to have the famous conversation, you asked him. “do you regret it?”

"that you didn't let me do this way before? yes. for doing it last night? no. another question, babe?"

"yes. well, it's not a question. I don't really know how long I've loved you. I mean, you know the day you fell in love with me. whereas I realized that when I didn't stop painting your face I thought it was your absence but it was stronger than that. when we were young, we were dumb and clumsy. but thank you to let me come back because we finally found the right moment."

“you know very well that you never had to ask for anything to get everything you want from me. all is yours. ”

— tysm for reading 🫶🏿‼️

[thelostconsultant]

What are we?

pairing: Oscar Piastri x reader

summary: After a bittersweet maiden win, Oscar needs his best friend's company. But maybe it's time to put a label on what you two really are.

Since Oscar had other obligations after the race, you waited for him in his driver's room, browsing the internet to see what people had to say about everything that happened today. It was pure chaos out there, and this was a bittersweet win for your friend. He deserved better. Much better than this.

At one point you must have fallen asleep, because you woke up to the bed shifting next to you, and opened your eyes with a short laugh when you felt the newcomer press a kiss on your forehead. “You're done for today?” you asked sleepily.

Nodding, Oscar lied down on his back and put his head in your lap. “I just want some peace and quiet,” he muttered as he closed his eyes. “You weren't waiting for me after the race. I missed you.”

“Didn’t know you wanted me there.”

He opened one eye to look at you. “I always want you there. I need my best friend to be there for me.”

“I'm always there for you, you know that,” you told him with your hand tangled in his hair. “Oh, congrats, by the way. I'm so happy for you!”

To your surprise, Oscar let out a groan. “What a well deserved win, wasn't it?” You gave him a disapproving look that made him reach out to take your hand. “I feel so stupid, I should have refused to overtake Lando when he slowed down.”

“Hey, listen, you were good out there today. You were in the lead until the team fucked you over.” He looked up at you with a sad smile. “You don't believe me,” you said with a sigh.

Oscar suddenly sat up and turned around to face you. “Look, I just… Everyone believes I didn't deserve this win. And it sucks. Last year I won my first sprint race, but everyone forgot about it because Max became the world champion that day. Today I won my first grand prix and everyone's talking about team orders.”

It was easy to spot the pain in his eyes as he watched you, but you had no idea how to make him feel better. He was beating himself up for something that was out of his control, and the sight broke your heart into pieces. He didn't deserve this, he was too nice to go through these emotional rollercoasters.

With a kind smile on your face, you put your palm on his cheek as you leaned closer, letting your lips gently brush against his chin. “You should stop using your brain for a few hours. That would probably help you see clearer later,” you whispered to him.

The corners of his lips curled into a playful smile, and you saw a mischievous glint in his eyes when his lips captured yours in a kiss. People knew you were good friends and that's why you were a regular guest at races, but behind closed doors you were sometimes a little more than that.

It all began around last Christmas, when you visited his family in Australia. His sisters bullied him until he came to let out some steam in your company, telling you about their wild idea that the two of you were secretly dating and he was about to propose, that's why he wanted them to meet you.

Of course, it was stupid, you would never be more than friends. Or so you thought. Because at one point later in the evening, Oscar cornered you in his old room and the two of you somehow fell into his bed. Naked. Happens to the best of us, right?

And ever since then, you were keeping up this friends with benefits situation, having fun occasionally without the commitment of a proper romantic relationship. Although there had been cracks in this setup lately, you knew that deep down. Because when you began flirting with a guy, Oscar became protective and somehow scared him away. You knew it was him. Your almost-boyfriend told you later.

“You should stop thinking too,” he suddenly spoke up as he grabbed your chin and forced you to look him in the eye. “I can tell your head is somewhere else.”

“I'm sorry, you're right,” you told him with a sheepish smile.

“What were you thinking about?”

You didn't want to talk about that, not now. You'd been avoiding this topic for a few weeks now, today just wasn't the day to discuss this. So you did the only thing you hoped could avert his thoughts, and pushed him on his back so you could climb on top of him.

And yet, despite the lustful look in his eyes, he kept talking. “That won't work on me, baby, spit it out,” he said with a smirk as his fingers dug into the plush of your thighs. You didn't respond, instead you pulled off your shirt and reached up to unclip your bra as well. “Nice try.”

You leaned down to kiss him again as your fingernails gently scratched the skin of his abdomen under his shirt. At first he played along, his hands began to roam your body between sloppy kisses, but just when you reached down to unbutton his pants, he was quick to stop you.

“I already told you what's going on in my head, it's your turn now. I want to hear it, otherwise there's no way I'm gonna fuck you today, no matter how badly I want to,” he informed you.

With a sigh, you steadied yourself by putting your hands on his shoulders. “It's silly,” you began, hoping he would let it go, but he just raised an eyebrow and listened carefully. “What do you want from… this?” you asked with your fingers moving back on forth between the two of you.

“Having fun,” was all he said in response.

You rolled your eyes at him. “Okay, but if it's nothing more but fun without commitments, why did you chase Aaron away?” Oscar tilted his head to the side as he tried to figure out who you were talking about, but then a quiet ‘oh’ left his lips when he remembered. “Yeah, he told me you talked to him. Look, I just want to understand what this is right now. I really liked that guy.”

Oscar reached up to pull your head closer to his. “You like me more, don't you?” he asked, his lips hovering above yours as he waited for your response. “Say it.”

“Don't ruin my relationships. Please, Oscar, give me the chance to be happy with someone else,” you whispered with a quiet sob.

“I don't want you to be happy with someone else. I want you to be happy with me.”

Did he really not understand? “I want to go out on dates, I want to have a relationship that I can talk about,” you tried to make him understand. It's been a conversation that was a long time coming anyway.

He nodded, seemingly understanding what you meant. “Then let's be more than what we are now. I'm ready to make it official.”

This made you freeze. “I'm not,” you admitted, which made him give you a confused look. “People think I'm just your best friend, yet some of your fans are speculating that I just want to be famous through you. Imagine how much worse it would be if we were together.”

“Ignore them. They're just jealous.” When he saw you weren't convinced, he spoke up again. “If that happens, just remind yourself that I love you,” he said. You couldn't believe your ears. Did he just say that? “I love you. That's what caught your attention, wasn't it? Look, it's complicated, I know, but we'll figure it out. I promise.”

You believed him. There was sincerity in his voice as he spoke, and the kiss he gave you was full of raw emotions. “You always get what you want, don't you?” you asked with a laugh, to which he only replied with a laugh and a nod.

[shepherds-of-haven]

The End of an Era, and the Road Ahead

Hi everybody, the recent news about Dashingdon shutting down feels like it's a bittersweet turning point for many in the ChoiceScript community. Before Don stepped up and took things into his own hands, volunteering his own money, manpower, and time to create and maintain the site, there was no good way for people to host ChoiceScript demos and games in one place: I think the previous solution had been different Dropbox links (which was eventually nuked by security changes in how they hosted files) and possibly separate Neocities sites? Without the Dashingdon site, none of us would have had such an incredible space to gather, share and explore and experience games together, or--for some--even feel motivated to write a ChoiceScript game in the first place, not without an easy and intuitive way of sharing it with others in a playable format. The Dashingdon site significantly lowered the barrier of entry for anyone wanting to make or play or share games; more than that, it was a place of memories, creativity, and connection, and I fully believe that it served as a vital backbone of the ChoiceScript community for many years. A lot of that community relies on the efforts of volunteers--including the creator of CSIDE and the moderators on the forums--and, as with them, I can only thank Don wholeheartedly for his generosity and his 10 years of tireless, selfless, and often thankless work. The fact that a lot of people didn't even know he was a volunteer shows his altruism!

However, all of that work could have only fallen on the shoulders of one person for so long. It's a sad loss to see, though, and I'm very sorry to everyone mourning the loss of the community space, old or inactive WIPs, and save files that will be lost when Dashingdon goes dark at the end of the month. I do wish that there could be an official, stable, company-supported place for authors to host their games in one place, but at least there are alternatives for people to migrate to! (Thank you too to @hpowellsmith and everyone in the community who's taken it upon themselves to spread the news and try to make this transition as smooth as possible for everyone surprised by this announcement. And thank you to the volunteer who's taken up the banner at cogdemos.ink!) I don't know if cogdemos.ink has a page set up to help defray costs, but Dashingdon himself has a ko-fi if you want to leave a tip or thanks for his years of service to the community!

To that end, I want to reassure you all that Shepherds of Haven is safe and isn't going anywhere, and that this change won't affect the game's future. The news has, however, sped up my announcement of something I've been working on for a long time: transitioning away from ChoiceScript and moving Shepherds of Haven to Twine.

Granted, this wasn't how I originally planned on sharing this news. Patrons have known about this move since I decided on it, but I'm a dogged perfectionist, possibly to a fault. I wanted everything to be absolutely polished before unveiling the Twine build, but this unexpected news has been the nudge I needed to take the leap sooner. It's always been my habit to polish my work to an extreme degree: I will rewrite entire novels five, seven, however many times it takes before I send it to my agent or editor... or even before I show it to my own fiance! I still haven't let him read Shepherds, or the novel that I've been talking to him about since 2019, because it "isn't ready" yet, not in my own mind. A common refrain I've always heard from career associates is that my work is "unusually impeccable" by the time it hits their desk. When I do share something, it's usually done. But if I'm learning anything as I grow as a writer, it's that progress matters over perfection. The sudden closure of Dashingdon has made me realize that no one moment will ever feel perfect--and that’s okay. I have to accept that things will never be as perfect as I want to make them before I let them out into the world. Instead of holding myself to an impossible standard, I’m embracing this opportunity to push forward and bring you something I'm truly proud of. (However nerve-wracking that may be!) So, instead of reuploading the ChoiceScript demo somewhere else, only to take it down again later, my efforts are going to shift entirely to getting the Twine version ready for release. It’s a huge task, but it ensures I’ll have complete control over Shepherds of Haven and its future. If I drop everything and focus entirely on this for the next several weeks, my best estimate is that it will take 3-5 weeks of full-time work to make that final push and finally get everything caught up and ready.

Why Twine? There were a lot of reasons behind my decision to move. The biggest of all was that, as the game's wordcount grew, so too did my creative vision for it, and I found myself longing for a version of ShoH that could be just as visually rich and mechanically engaging as I was imagining. Codex entries, interactive maps, infinite saves that can be downloaded directly to your device! Moving to Twine removes the limitations of ChoiceScript's simpler engine, and allows me to honor the game's creative potential and deliver on it in a way that feels true to the journey we've shared so far. It's also a platform that offers greater flexibility and independence for both me and the game: I've put so much work into this project that I'd prefer for its success to rest more in my hands, even if that means taking on the monumental task of publishing it myself, rather than anyone else's.

So. Both the public demo and the alpha build will be released in Twine as soon as I can make that happen. The majority of the work's already done--I just need to get the alpha build caught up with some lingering day off interludes and Chapters 8.5 and 9, and I need to address a queue of lingering quality-of-life questions and tweaks. I want to also note that, while there are very exciting additions to unveil, everything foundational to ShoH remains exactly the same. The story, text, and original functions have been ported in their entirety to Twine, outside of basic edits and refinements that would have happened in the normal course of revision, anyway. I have even taken pains to implement a visual "classic" setting that will replicate the font, colors, and general simplified look of the original version, if players want to use that instead. :) But otherwise, this thing is stuffed to the gills with awesome new features. Custom music soundtrack! Clickable maps! Actual trading card collectibles! Stunning new art! Revamped codex and store and inventory systems! Helpful tutorials and autosave points! Important quality of life improvements, like being able to select pronouns separately from gender and change them any time! This doesn't even touch the surface of it, but needless to say, I think we're going to have a lot of fun. Thank you all for your patience, encouragement, and support so far, and please give me some time to get my ducks in a row. A new version of Shepherds of Haven will be ready for you to play soon!

[youreverydayfangirl]

READY FOR IT

pairing: max verstappen x singer reader

summary: the one where she's adjusted to a new life, she begins to let out her feelings and she meets someone new

warning: none i think this is a pretty cute chapter, maybe alchohol

a/n: another post omg?????

face claim: sabrina carpenter

f1 masterlist

main masterilst

series masterlist

f1gossip has posted

liked by 120, 384 others

f1gossip Rumour has it that World Champion Max Verstappen and girlfriend Kelly Piquet have called it quits. The pair was last seen in Febuary earlier this year but an inside source reports they've been broken up since December. Thoughts?

user1 FINALLY

user2 not sure if this is really shocking to anyone

user3 NONONO THEY CANT BE

-> user4 get a life

--------------------

y/nsprivate has posted

liked by keekslikestospamm, thatoneartgirlalex and 23 others

y/nsprivate nothing just hot girl shit

tagged: livbereallydumb, itssabrinaaa

keekslikestospammmm livbereallydumb looking like a queen tbh

-> livbereallydumb don't you know it

thatoneartgirlalex whos the girl in the first slide?

-> livbereallydumb think its y/nsprivate not sure tho

-> y/nsprivate STAWP IT

leosfather i better be seeing you tomorrow

-> y/nsprivate TRUST QUEEN I'LL BE THERE

thatonefrenchguy FINALLY ON THE PRIVATE

-> y/nsprivate you better be grateful and also ill remove you if you get too annoying

-> thatonefrenchguy MEANNNN

---------------------------------

"Y/n. Hurry up please." Y/n rolled her eyes slightly at the persistence of her best friend who had literally just finished getting ready.

"I'm coming," Y/n replied, rolling her eyes with a grin. Tonight was Charles' 27th birthday, and they were all headed out to celebrate. When Y/n finally stepped out, Alex gave a low whistle.

"Wow, Y/n, you look amazing," she said, looking her up and down.

"Yeah, yeah," Y/n replied with a playful smile. "Where's the birthday boy? He can't be running late on his own night."

"Later than you are, which is ironic since he calls me the diva," Alex laughed, wrapping her arms around Y/n.

When Charles finally finished getting ready to go, the trio made their way to the car and headed to the small club Charles had booked for the night. As they drove, Y/n felt a quiet sense of peace settle over her, as if everything in her life might just be okay from here on out.

Arriving at the club, Y/n was greeted by a wave of familiar faces, triggering a bittersweet sense of nostalgia. Many of the people here were mutual friends she hadn’t seen since the breakup with Lando. They hadn’t necessarily taken sides, but after the split, they had drifted out of her life. She politely greeted a few, already dreading the day ahead.

As she made her way to get a drink Y/n bumped into someone, "Oh sorry I- Carlos." She said, suddenly feeling a very strong sense of uncomfort around herself. Whilst her and Carlos were very close during her relationship with Lando, Carlos picked his side and seemed to hate Y/n for it.

"Y/n," he replied sharply, his accent thick with a drunken edge. "How have you been?"

"Fine, thanks," she answered, keeping her tone polite. Before he could continue Charles appeared out of nowhere, throwing an arm around both of them. Whether he knew it or not, he relived the tension and Y/n was grateful for the interruption.

At the sight of his drunk friend, a huge smile spread across Carlos' face, and the two fell into more animated conversation. Y/n found her thoughts drifting. After saying she needed some air, Y/n slipped away and made her way to the balcony, leaning against the railing.

She was so lost in thought that she didn’t notice the soft click of the door opening.

"Oh, sorry... I didn’t realize anyone was out here," an awkward voice said, breaking the quiet. Y/n turned, a bit startled, and found herself face to face with someone she vaguely recognized but had barely spoken to, Max.

God, he’s gorgeous. It was the first thought that popped into her mind. His green eyes caught the light with a slight glitter, and a small, warm smile curved his lips. If looks could kill, she thought, feeling her cheeks warm. He was effortlessly handsome, too handsome, in fact.

As they shared a brief, almost charged silence, Y/n couldn’t help but wonder if he had a girlfriend, or how many hearts he’d broken along the way. Max cleared his throat, shifting his weight a little.

"Y/n," he greeted, straightening his back. She returned his smile, small but genuine. "You look great."

A small smile spread across her face, "Um thanks, you too."

"How’s Gizmo?" Max asked with a soft smile, moving to stand closer to her. Suddenly, any lingering awkwardness between them melted away.

"Um hes good." Y/n said, perking up at the mention of her cat. Something about that simple question made Y/n feel more comforted in his presence. Most people would ask how was she doing or ask about her music. But Max seemed more interested in the little things, who she was.

They slipped into an easy rhythm of conversation, eventually settling down on the balcony with their backs against the wall, the quiet hum of the party inside fading into background noise.

"So," Max began, a faint curiosity in his eyes, "are you seeing anyone at the moment?" His tone was casual, but there was something unguarded about the question that made her laugh.

"After everything that’s happened? Do you think anyone would want to date me?" she replied with a playful smile, although her tone held something else.

Max’s gaze softened. "Why wouldn’t they? You’re stunning, and you’ve got the personality to match."

"Haven't you heard what they’ve been calling me?" She tilted her head, a hint of disbelief in her voice.

"I don’t make a habit of listening to the media," he said, shrugging. "I’d rather form my own perspective." His words were calm, but there was something unwavering in the way he looked at her, something that made her heart stumble in her chest.

She glanced away, her cheeks warming. "I don’t know how true that is," she mumbled, a bit embarrassed.

Max leaned a little closer, his gaze never leaving her face. "Oh, come on. I bet you’ve stolen a lot of hearts."

The way he was looking at her, intensely, with a hint of admiration, made her feel as if she needed to break eye contact, but she couldn’t quite bring herself to.

Just as she was about to respond, the door opened, and Kika’s voice floated over. "Y/n! Come on, come dance!"

Y/n smiled, nodding in acknowledgment. "Just a minute," she called back, then turned to Max. "I guess I’ll see you around?"

Max’s eyes sparkled, and he gave her a small, reassuring smile. "Trust me, you will."

A few shots later Y/n found herself looking for a place to sit and gather herself for a minute. As she turned around the room she noticed him sitting on a barstool and made her way over to him.

"Not enjoying yourself?" She asked him and he instantly perked up at her voice. Something that he internally scolded him self for, don't make yourself seem desperate Max.

"No, I am," he replied, smiling, "just not a heavy drinker." He turned on the stool to face her fully, his posture relaxing as he settled into their conversation.

Suddenly, a familiar song came blaring through the speakers, "I love this song!" Y/n exclaimed, her eyes bright with excitement. Before she could say anything else, Max held out a hand, a playful smile on his lips.

"May I have this dance?" he asked, the formality in his tone nearly too gentlemanly for the club setting.

She gave him a soft smile and slid her hand into his. "Lead the way."

They wove through the crowd and onto the dance floor, where the music enveloped them. As they moved together, Max leaned down, his breath warm against her ear. "You know, you never answered my question. Do you have a boyfriend?"

"No."

___________________

y/nsprivate has posted

liked by keekslikestospamm, thatoneartgirlalex and 23 others

y/nsprivate CHA CHAS BIRTHDAY I LOVE YOU BITCHHHHH

tagged: leosfather

leosfather the sister i never had

-> y/nsprivate pascale loves me more tho so...

-> leosfather here i thought you were being nice

-> y/nsprivate NEVERRR

thatoneartgirlalex meeting your wife through your boyfriend>>>

-> y/nsprivate exactly how it happened

keekslikestospammm you and max were looking VERY comfortable last night 👀

-> thatoneartgirlalex WHATTT

-> leosfather SPILL THE DEETS NOW

-> y/thatoneartgirlalex we're coming over now

-> leosfather im bringing champagne

---------------------

thatoneartgirlalex has posted

liked by y/nsprivate, leosfather and 43 others

thatoneartgirlalex you best believe the tea was spilt

tagged: y/nsprivate

y/nsprivate 👀👀

-> thatoneartgirlalex 🤐🤐

leosfather charles erasure 💔

-> y/nsprivate as it should be tbh

jimmyandsassysdad can i know the tea?

-> y/nsprivate what are you doing here?

-------------------------

charles to max

y/n and max

Unknown has been changed to Max

________________

i think this is pretty long but idk

any ways heres another part for you guys ;)

_________________

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[venusbyline]

Pretending ࿐ྂ Kinktober. 25, oct.

(late post)

— pairing: Aaron Hotchner x love affair!reader

— type: smut, Kinktober (Criminal Minds Edition)

— kink: deepthroating

— summary: Hotch is trying to teach you a new blowjob method, but things are not that easy when you are still sexually inexperienced.

— word count: 1.0k

— tags/warnings: kinktober 25th day, female!reader, intern!reader, rough!Hotch (BUT NOT REALLY), soft!Hotch, deepthroating, rough oral sex (male receiving), mild dubcon, degradation, aftercare, accidental orgasm denial, praise kink, curse words, mild verbal humiliation, mild dumbification, corruption kink, cooking, dacryphilia, crying, college student!reader, married!Hotch, age gap (older man/younger woman), BAU member!reader, jealous!Hotch, gagging reflex, sex gone wrong, fluff, inexperienced/innocent!reader, secret relationship, cheating, referenced infidelity, minor Aaron Hotchner x Haley Hotchner, implied Derek Morgan x reader, implied Spencer Reid x reader, bittersweet ending, dom!Hotch, sub! reader, porn with plot. no use of y/n. english is not my first language.

— tagging list: @thatredlipped-classic @purplehaze206 @ehedrick012110 @hotchsmutrecs @slutcakes00 @emma-e-a @helo1281917

— crossposting: AO3

"Watch your damn teeth, girl. I've already warned you once and you can be sure I won't even warn you if there's a third." Hotch growled as your beautiful eyes filled with tears at the feeling of his cock pushing its way into your mouth.

Your jaw felt like it was going to rip in half, wide enough so that your teeth would not scrape painfully against Hotch's sensitive skin. Your body was lying on your back on the bed, which was quite high and made the position easier for the new experience. Your head tilted back as Hotch was right there, trying to take his length in carefully. He knew it was not a very comfortable position for either of you and it would probably be difficult for you to deepthroating him like that, but he was interested enough to see the shape of his cock highlighted inside your delicate throat.

"F-fuck... Your little mouth's even tighter." His muffled moan echoed through your room when he pushed deeper, taking advantage of the new angle to hit the head of his cock in the back of your throat, causing you to suddenly gag. Your eyes widened and tried to move back down, but Hotch grabbed your neck, keeping you in place and taking the opportunity to squeeze the bulge that became clear as he continued thrusting, fucking your throat. You whimpered around Hotch's cock, filling him with goosebumps from the vibrations your lips made when you tried to explain explain with gestures about how this was already too much. "We've barely even started and you're already acting like a crybaby whore?"

A few minutes passed and every time Hotch was getting close to cumming, you gagged around him and tried to pull out.

"FUCK! What the hell, girl?" When Hotch saw you were starting to sob and cry hopelessly, he growled and pulled his cock out, watching you stand up and start coughing, your lungs thanking the world for the return of air. However, all it took was for your sad eyes to turn to Hotch for him to sigh, putting his black boxers back on and sitting on the bed, pulling you to snuggle into his chest, hearing you crying softly and feeling how your tears soaked his skin during the hug. You could not say anything coherent, but Hotch knew very well that you were feeling bad about not being able to give him a good deepthroat. "It's okay, darling. It's not a big deal, it was just a stupid kink that I wanted to try out with you. I was really so fucking horny and I took it out on you by being rude. I'm so sorry, little girl."

You shook your head, pouting your lips. "I-It's not a stupid kink, Sir. Any men likes deepthroating." You muttered with a frown. He was about to tell you to stop calling him by the name you always used within the BAU, when he was pretending to be just an agent mentoring a dedicated intern, but something caught his attention.

"Yeah? And since when do you know what men really like?" Hotch's husky voice caught you off guard and you looked down with shame. It was obvious that he knew that you had not done anything like this with other guy, after all, he had been the one to take your virginity a few weeks after your arrival at the internship at the BAU.

“Well, the guys at my college talk so much about sex very loud during the class…” It was all you said and he rolled his eyes. Damn it, he hated teenagers with raging hormones and especially frat boys.

Hotch cleared his throat, determined not to let you know he was jealous at the mere thought of your classmates trying to flirt with you on a daily basis. He wanted you in the office at all times, where he could watch you and make sure Morgan was not trying to ask you out or that Reid did not have an arousal every time you brought coffee to everyone's desks. "Anyway, we can try it again another day when you're more comfortable. In another position, maybe."

You smiled at Hotch's suggestion. "I'd love to try again in a few days, Sir... Sorry! Love, just love." You corrected yourself when you saw his frown at the unnecessary formality. Hotch chuckled lightly and got up from the bed, immediately followed by you. "You're leaving right now?" You asked worried, both because he had not cum yet that night and also because he was not even saying goodbye.

"What? Of course not, darling." Hotch defended himself, looking quite offended that you would even consider him to be so careless to you. "I'm gonna sleep here tonight, forgot? So now I'm just gonna make some hot tea to help your sore throat. Then we can watch some pathetic romcom movies and have sex later, but nothing too rough for now."

The teasing in his tone made you smile. Still naked, with your cheeks wet with tears and your lips swollen, you caressed your own neck to soothe the sore throat during the process, watching Hotch wearing only those black boxers and opening your cabinets to look for things to heat up some tea. You would love to see him like this every day, practically naked in your kitchen, looking like the real husband material's definition, cooking and spoiling you as an aftercare. You would love to have him as your boyfriend, as your husband, as the future father of your children... However, you knew that the next morning the lie would have to be maintained. You would have to keep pretending he was just a BAU agent, just your mentor. Hotch would have to keep pretending that he was loyal to his wife and son, and did not care about the cute young intern of the office.

Both of you would have to keep pretending that nothing was happening between you two and that you did not have sex often. Both of you would have to keep pretending you did not love each other.

Criminal Minds Edition - Masterlist

HOTD Edition - Masterlist

Venusbyline's Kinktober 2024 - Masterlist

[prythianpages]

Lay All Your Love On Me | Cassian x Reader

summary: Cassian is your best friend and best friend’s don’t thirst after one another. Best friends don’t get jealous. Best friends also don’t fall in love with one another. But you did.

warnings: mild angst; smut at the end; basically, mutual jealousy

a/n: this was inspired by ABBA's song. I'm working on a series where I dedicate a song to each of the ACOTAR men and you can find the masterlist here. I feel like this is borderline crack at some points tbh and probably the longest one shot I've ever written. Also, the amount of times I've rewritten this is insane so I hope you like this final version ❤

Adrenaline courses through your veins. The wind becomes your companion, offering a resistance that you always find yourself craving. It caresses your skin, leaving a bittersweet ache. Running is the closest feeling to flying. Though your wings, tucked behind you, remain, they are rendered useless and forever will be. Those sick Illyrian males, paid off by your own brother, made sure of that.

Sometimes, you wish they would’ve just sloughed them off. An Illyrian with no wings is a tragedy but an Illyrian with useless wings is a devastating tragedy. A fate that, unfortunately, all Illyrian females have to endure.

Heated frustration surges within you, spurred on by the luminous blue hues radiating from the siphons encircling your wrists. You shake your head and take deep breaths because you can not let those triggering thoughts win. You can’t let them win. The primal thud of your heart urges you to push forward and–

“Fuck, marry, kill.”

“Cassian,” you nearly hiss, though the flutter in your chest betrays you. 

“Come on,” he says, a grin playing on his lips as he matches your pace. “Me, Az, and Rhys. Go!”

You slow down your pace to shoot him a sidelong glance and pivot, turning to run the opposite direction. Heat rises to your cheeks. You blame it on your exercise. 

“We played this last night.”

Undeterred, Cassian picks up his pace to stay ahead of you, running backwards with ease. “And you didn’t answer me.”

As you both rounded a corner, someone bumped into you. Your steps faltered slightly before you caught your own balance. 

“Oops. Sorry, didn’t–”

The Illyrian male who collided with you didn’t even have time to finish his apology, as insincere as it was. Cassian shoved him, sending the male plummeting to the ground with a growl. You swear you hear him choke on dirt.

“Watch it, asshole.”

When Cassian turns back to you, you arch a brow at him and he gives you a nonchalant shrug. You both know that male intentionally bumped into you. As one of the few Illyrian females who has defied tradition and trained extensively, the disrespect constantly thrown at you is no surprise. Though you’re no longer fazed by it, you can’t say the same for Cassian.

His gaze softens and grin returns, the wind tousling his dark hair as he maintains his backward stride. “Now, where were we?”

“Fine,” you say with a huff.

It’s not in Cassian’s nature to give up. You’ve played this game multiple times, introduced by Mor, with the inner circle on drunken nights. You were always quick with your answers but not this time. Not when your options were three of your close friends and among them, there was one you secretly or maybe not so secretly harbored feelings for.  That and the lack of liquid courage you usually have at your side when playing.

“Fuck Azriel.”

Cassian’s steps come to a stop and so do yours, albeit reluctantly. There’s a glint in his hazel eyes as he looks at you. “I’m going to tell him.”

“Go ahead,” you reply because you don’t care if the Shadowsingers knows. He’s the safest choice of them all and he wouldn’t let this stupid game get to his head unlike Cassian. “You know that’d be your answer too.”

Both you and Cassian share a look because you’re not wrong.

Then, you both are turning your heads to find the Shadowsinger. Azriel stands at the far end of the training grounds, engaged in the rhythmic lifting of weights. Shirtless. The distance between you two and him is vast, rendering any audible communication impossible. However, the subtle play of shadows around his ears catches your attention, and as if sensing your gazes, he turns, narrowing his eyes at both you and Cassian with an uncanny perceptiveness.

Caught red-handed, both you and Cassian turn your heads away. He looks at you again. “So,” he starts once more and you bite back the urge to groan. At this moment, you’re almost inclined to reveal that you’d like to do all three to the Illyrian male in front of you.

 “Who will you be marrying? Me or Rhys?”

It’s as if he heard his name being called. Rhysand prods gently at the shields of your mind and when you allow him in, you know he relayed the same message to Cassian and Azriel. You both head over to the sparring grounds, where Azriel is already waiting for you. He throws a sword to you and then to Cassian.

Cassian wiggles his eyebrows at you suggestively and you slap his arm. He pinches your side in retaliation, a reminder that you’re not going to live this one down. He moves into position and you mirror him.

He lifts his sword, feigning a lunge that you counter with a swift parry. Your movements are both graceful and calculated, a testament to the years of training under his guidance. Meanwhile, Azriel circles around you both, a silent spectator.

Cassian’s strikes intensify, growing more precise every time. Your swords clash, ringing in the air. But despite your skill, Cassian is stronger, more experienced. Seizing an opportune moment, he lunges with a force that sends you stumbling backward. Your sword clatters to the ground as you find yourself seated on the training grounds.

"Did I serve?" Cassian smirks, offering a mock salute, his muscles flexing in a playful display. "Or did I serve?"

He twirls his sword with a flourish, unaware of the glare you shoot his way. With a determined huff, you gather yourself, reaching for your fallen weapon and swiftly rising to your feet. In a strategic move, you deliver a swift kick, sweeping Cassian off his feet and onto his back.

With a triumphant grin, you step forward, placing a boot on his chest to keep him on the ground. You press your weight on him teasingly, knowing that Azriel is not the only one watching you two anymore. Hazel eyes sparkle back at you with a mixture of pride and a subtle undertone, a hint of something more lingering beneath the surface, as your sword hovers just above his neck. It brings forth an unspoken tension between you both and if you hadn’t blinked, you wouldn’t have missed the way Cassian licks his lips as he looks up at you.

"You got served."

Cassian laughs as you drop your sword and lift your boot. You don’t bother to offer him a hand, wanting to bask in your victory as much as possible but much to your dismay, Azriel helps him up.

Thank you for humbling him.

You turn around to see Rhysand. His lips purse, suppressing his amusement. His eyes become unreadable as he dons his High Lord mask. A palpable aura of immense power radiates from him. 

Beside him, stands another male, whose presence commands just as much attention as Rhysand. His skin is a rich brown and hair white. You’ve never met him before but you know who he is as Rhysand had informed you of his visit. It’s why you were conveniently training in Windhaven, despite your preference for the training grounds atop the House of Wind.

The three of you greet Rhysand first before bowing your heads in respect to the High Lord of the Summer Court.

“This is Cassian, general commander of my armies. This is y/n, one of our great Illyrian warriors and this is Azriel, my spymaster. They are all well equipped and are looking forward to working with your soldiers for the next two weeks.”

**

You’ve rarely traveled outside of the Night Court. You weren't a high fae like Mor or Rhysand so you couldn’t winnow and after the clipping of your wings, you couldn’t fly like Cassian or Azriel. So your friends were your main means of transportation and you were looking forward to working with High Lord Nostrus’s soldiers as it was a means for you to get to explore another one of Prythian’s lovely courts.

But now that you’re here, in their training grounds, you’re no longer looking forward to being here for the next two weeks.

Not when one particularly strikingly beautiful female soldier has set her eyes on Cassian and certainly not when there’s an unfamiliar burning resentment in your chest too strong to ignore. It flares every time her gaze or touch lingers too long. By the Cauldron, since when did every woman you see become a potential threat with Cassian? He is your friend.

A reminder that stings as much as the intensity of the burning feeling coursing through you. Though, you’ve never felt this way before, you realize that you’ve been more sensitive in anything Cassian these past couple of months–since starfall. It’s as if he casted a spell on you, one where you can only think about him. He’s your every waking thought and lingers as your final thought before sleep.

The feeling in your chest flares to a blazing fire when you overhear him praise the female soldier and the wooden sword splinters in your grasp, falling to the ground. 

This is going to be a long two weeks.

“Are you jealous?” Azriel muses beside you.

“Me?” You say with a huff, kicking the evidence of the broken sword away. Of course it doesn’t go unnoticed by Azriel, the skilled spymaster. The corner of his lips quirk up but you insist. “Jealous? Never.”

You send an amused Azriel a glare before picking up another practice sword. Determined to not let your jealousy get in the way, you engage yourself in training the small group assigned to you. You were here for a reason and you’d give the soldiers under your command your all.

**

After a full afternoon of training, you were eager to clean the dirt and sweat off your skin. You were also eager to distance yourself as much from Cassian and that female before you did something you’d regret. Your bath worked wonders to ease every tense muscle. If you hadn’t been invited by High Lord Nostrus to dinner, you would’ve basked in the warmth of the water a little longer. The sound of waves crashing soothes you as you make your way to your bed, ruffling your damp hair with a towel.

Nestled adjacent to Cassian's and Azriel's quarters, your room stands vast and breathtaking. It’s also missing an entire wall. In its place, vines adorned with blooming dahlias weave along the room's edges, seamlessly bridging the gap between the interior and the great sea outdoors. 

Your attention gravitates towards the bed, adorned in the softest silks, a sanctuary you can’t wait to sink into. Atop it rests a box, concealing an invitation to dinner and an outfit that differs greatly from your Illyrian leathers.

You find a dress. A pale blue masterpiece with a daring plunging neckline and high slits. You’ve never worn anything like it. The fabric is soft and weightless, its wispy texture feels like a gentle sea breeze caressing your skin with every step. You appreciate that it was backless to accommodate your wings.

Sitting down at the vanity, the jewelry that was in the box sparkles back up at you. You're touched by the High Lord’s gesture but you’re also wary of all his gifts. You settle on the most simplest of jewelry–diamond earrings and a sapphire necklace that reminds you of the siphons you wear. You have three in total but the one wrapped around your wrist is the only one you keep with you at all times. You save the other two for when you’re training or fighting to help you control your power.

As you step out of your room, Cassian and Azriel's eyes are drawn to you. You smile at them in greeting. Cassian's gaze lingers, a silent appreciation etched in every curve and contour he not so discreetly takes in. Warmth prickles at your skin, and an inexplicable spark ignites within your chest in response.

Azriel clears his throat, amused eyes dancing between you two. “Shall we?”

Cassian, as if emerging from a trance, regains his composure and grins at you. He extends his arm and you gratefully hook yours through his as he leads the way down the hall. You notice that he also switched his leathers into something more befitting the Summer court’s warmth. He wears dark navy linen pants that match Azriel’s but unlike the dark shirt the Shadowsinger wears, he chose a lighter colored one. The fabric is nearly see through, offering a teasing peek at the tattoos embellishing his chest and the defined muscles that lie beneath.

You feel his gaze on you as you walk beside him that prompts you to look up at him in question. He takes a moment to respond and finally with a sheepish smile says, “you smell nice.”

“Oh, thanks. I used coconut soap that was left in my bathroom,” you respond, a tinge of confusion and subtle disappointment coloring your words. At least it was an actual compliment unlike last starfall when all he said was “you look different.” Yet, it embarrassingly still had the same effect, leaving you blushing. 

Azriel, walking behind you, can't help but let out a snort. Idiots, he thinks to himself. His shadows agree.

**

There’s a wide assortment of delicious food laid out for you all. Your lips quirk up when you catch the way Cassian’s eyes light up at the sight. You take the seat next to him and Azriel the seat across from you. High Lord Nostrus sits at the head of the table, gesturing for you all to dive in. With a snap of his fingers, the golden chalices in front of you fill with a sweet wine.

“I appreciate you all for your efforts in helping strengthen my armies.”

Cassian’s mouth was full of food and Azriel brought his drink to his lips, not keen on the idea of making small talk with the High Lord. Resisting the urge to roll your eyes at your male companions, you muster a smile and turn to Nostrus instead.

“I believe we should be the ones thanking you for being such a gracious host. As emissaries of our esteemed High Lord, it is our sincere desire that our efforts not only strengthen your armies but also fortify the bonds of alliance between the courts of Summer and Night.”

“Of course.” Nostrus's turquoise eyes study you, and you can feel the weight of his gaze settling on your wings. The instinct to protectively tuck them in tighter behind you flares, a vulnerable self-consciousness settling in. "From my understanding, it is not common for an Illyrian female to train and fight. Am I right?"

“Yes, you are correct. But I am working closely with my High Lord to rectify that.”

Cassian, sensing your unease, swallows his food, and a reassuring hand finds its place on your thigh, offering a comforting squeeze. You're familiar with Cassian's expressive and caring nature through touch. However, his simple and sweet gestures, such as the way he’s touching your thigh right now, sends your heart racing instead.

"I watched you from afar this afternoon. You took down some of my best soldiers with ease," Nostrus remarks, and a gentle breeze from the nearby sea courses through the open dining room, sending a shudder through your wings. His perceptive eyes catch the movement. "Your wings are different."

The hand on your thigh tightens, mirroring the constriction in your throat.

"High Lord–" Cassian begins, a subtle warning threaded through his otherwise light tone.

Nostrus raises his hand. "I mean no harm. Truly." 

His gaze remains fixed on you as he continues, "As you see, we pride ourselves on every soldier, regardless of gender. Anyone who swears loyalty to this court is held in great esteem. I protect them as much as they would protect my court. While I do not know your story, I now know your worth, and if the Night Court is not able to appreciate you, then–"

"The Night Court appreciates her just fine," Cassian interrupts, a protective edge slicing through his words. He hates Nostrus’s accusatory tone and ignores the warning look Azriel sends his way.

You place a hand over Cassian’s but keep your eyes on Nostrus. “You flatter me, High Lord,” you manage to say with a smile. “Though my scars may say otherwise, I can assure you that my High Lord treats me well. In fact, High Lord Rhysand is working on banning the practice of clipping wings so our future generations will not know the horrors enacted under previous rulers…”

**

Your wings, draped behind you, bear the burden of your trauma–the betrayal of your brother. You hate how sensitive you are at the mere mention of them. You wipe hastily at your eyes. Cassian, who refused to part ways with you at your door, stands silently beside you. Your haunting memories store themselves back into the depths of your mind as his movements catch your attention. It’s strange but comforting, the way he always knows when you don’t want to talk and are in need of a distraction instead.

But your cheeks heat up because you’re unsure if this distraction is a good idea. “What are you doing?”

“What does it look like I’m doing?” Cassian grins at you as he continues stripping himself of his clothes. “I’m going for a swim.”

He winks at you as he kicks his pants off, leaving him in only his boxer briefs that are clinging to him in a way that makes your mouth nearly water. You pull your gaze away, hating the way your mind wants to drift to devious thoughts because you know what lies underneath. You’ve seen him in his full glory far too many times than you’d like to admit–each one of them on accident.

Your heart flutters madly against the fragile cage of your chest and you press a hand against it as if that would do anything to ease your racing heart. Because Cassian is your best friend and best friend’s don’t thirst after one another. Best friends also don’t fall in love with one another. 

But you did.

He was your mentor before he became your friend and each passing year since then seemed to usher in a quiet surrender. Almost as if every step was an unspoken agreement with your heart, blurring in between the fine line of friendship and something else. You navigated the staircase of emotions, unaware, until you stood near the bottom. Instead of gracefully reaching the last step, the sudden realization of your feelings felt like a forceful tumble, leaving you to hit the ground and boy did you hit it hard.

The sound of a joyful splash resonates through the air, harmonizing with the playful melody of droplets that dance against your bare legs. You shoot a glare Cassian’s way, even though you didn’t mind, and you can’t bring yourself to care when he flicks a middle finger at you in response. You’re far too used to them to be bothered. Realizing that the water felt nice and warm, you nestle yourself on the edge of the floor. You hike your dress up and then dip your legs into the soothing waters.

Bathed in the ethereal glow of moonlight, Cassian floats on his back, allowing his wings to carry him through the soft waves. Your gaze lingers on him, tracing the moonlit contours of his muscles. Another splash pulls you out of your trance and this time, the droplets reach the thin fabric of your dress.

“Come on, bibble!” Cassian exclaims.

Your glare returns, irritation flickering in your eyes. “I told you to stop calling me that!”

His grin widens, undeterred. “Won’t you join me?”

You respond with a swift kick, creating a splash that dances towards him. Regret settles in immediately as his eyes light up in the moonlight, holding mischief, as he swims toward you.

“Bibble’,” he nearly purrs, somehow making the stupid nickname sound downright sinful. He braces his hands on either side of you, the muscles of his arms flexing. His chest brushes against your legs and all you can think about is how nice he feels so close to you. “Why won’t you join me?”

You’re looking anywhere but him. “I don’t feel like it.”

Cassian hums, his thoughtful gaze lingering for a moment longer than you'd expect. You release a breath you didn't realize you were holding when he turns his head. It’s a short lived moment of relief because in a heartbeat, he pulls your legs from underneath you and drags you into the water with him. You’re splashing and writhing and like an idiot, your mouth opens in panic.

Cassian's strong arms swiftly encircle you, pulling you up from the water's depths. As you resurface, you're coughing and sputtering, water droplets cascading down your face. He chuckles while you hit his chest. 

"I can't swim, you idiot!" 

"Relax," Cassian laughs, his hands holding your hips firmly to keep you afloat with him. His expression, though soft, morphs into something more serious. "I’ve got you. I always will.”

His words unrattle something deep within you and you can’t move, can’t think properly. You can only feel. Your mind goes blank and eyes grow distant as you’re brought back to the night he first said those words. Right after he found you laying in a pool of your own blood. It was the night your wings were clipped. A hand reaches out to caress your face and his fingers rest on your chin, directing your focus to him. 

Tears threaten the corners of your eyes. The desire to avert your gaze is strong, but he doesn't permit it. He needs you to answer him. "You know that, right?"

A breath catches in your throat before you finally manage to whisper, "Yeah."

Cassian's lips form a rare, softer smile. He draws you closer until you can feel his breath, sense his warmth. He kisses your forehead, his lips lingering there for a moment longer and when he pulls away, he rests his forehead against yours. A thumb brushes gently against your cheek. His gaze dips to your lips and absentmindedly, his thumb slowly traces along your bottom lip. There’s a faraway look in his eyes as he’s lost in contemplation.

Your heart is roaring in your ears and there’s something singing madly in your chest because he’s never touched you like this before. Tell him. Your breath is shaky when you speak. "Cas?"

He holds his gaze to your lips, allowing the soft rocking of a wave to push him closer to you. "Yes?"

Suddenly, the night sky bursts into a kaleidoscope of colors. The unexpected spectacle and the resonating boom startles you, and on instinct, you find refuge in the safety of Cassian's embrace. If he weren’t caught up in the heat of the moment, he would’ve teased you for the way you are clinging madly onto him, legs and arms wrapped tightly around him.

"Wow," you exhale, the initial shock giving way to a relaxed sense of awe.

The fireworks continue to bloom overhead, their vibrant hues reflecting in your wonderstruck eyes. You gradually unwrap your legs from around Cassian, and your arms loosen their hold around his neck. Yet, he maintains a firm grip on your hips.

“Beautiful.”

You hum in agreement, and when you turn back to Cassian, you realize his gaze has never wavered from you throughout the entire display. "What were you going to say?"

"What?"

"What were you going to say earlier…"

"Oh, that," you stammer, panic subtly seeping in, eyebrows furrowing slightly. The courage you once possessed to voice your feelings has dissipated in the wake of the unexpected interruption. “Um, can you teach me how to swim?”

His gaze lingers on you. It’s as if he knows those were not the words you were going to say but he doesn’t push you on it. “Sure,” he says instead and clears his throat, looking away. “But maybe another night?”

“Why?”

You regret your question as soon as you ask it, eyes widening when you feel why. There’s something hard poking at your stomach. You freeze up, not knowing what to do, inadvertently making matters worse. Though the night is dark, the moon glows bright enough for you both to notice your peaked nipples as the thin light fabric of your dress is completely see through in the water.

“Stop staring!” You cry out, using one of your hands to splash water onto him. If he weren’t your lifeline, the only thing keeping you afloat in these deep waters, you would’ve shoved him under water.

Cassian snaps out of it with a flinch, blinking away the salty droplets of water that splashed into his eyes. “I was looking respectfully!”

“Respectfully my ass!”

“I mean, I could look at that too.”

You shoot him a glare, hating the way his words have your insides in a frenzy. He doesn’t seem to care about his obvious arousal poking at you and you don’t have it in you to tease him as you’re desperately trying to hide yours, praying that the vast sea surrounding you is enough to mask your scent. Your hands are grasping out for the vines that run along the edge of the tiles as soon as you can reach them, using them to guide you back into the safety of your room.

You pause before you hoist yourself back up, turning to look at a clearly amused Cassian. 

“Turn around.”

“Oh, come on,” he chuckles but saves you further embarrassment by doing as you asked. You wait until his back is fully turned to you, wings flaring out behind him and spraying you with sea water on purpose, to hoist yourself up into your room. Once you’re on your feet, you pull at one of the many sheets on your bed, wrapping it snug around your exposed body.

“You can turn back around now.” 

“You can look as much as you want, bibble.” He tells you though your gaze remains fixed on the seashell painting on one of your walls. Your mind is racing and if he asked you what colors were on the painting, you would fail miserably in answering him.  “Disrespectfully too.”

You can hear his agonizingly slow footsteps as he makes his way to the door, not bothering to pick up the clothes he left sprawled all over your floor.  “Get out,” you nearly growl at him, not caring anymore, as you turn around and shove at his back. Because if he doesn’t leave soon, you’re sure you’ll lose your self control.

“Mother’s tits, y/n! I’m going!” He exclaims in protest with a grin evident in his tone.

“Well, go faster!” You huff at him, hands still pressing against his back. “I’m.Tired.”

Tired of holding back your emotions, more like it. As soon as he steps out your door, you’re slamming it shut before he can catch a glimpse of your flustered face.

“Sweet dreams, bibble.”

Leaning against the door, you take a moment to catch your breath as Cassian's deep laughter echoes through the halls. You close your eyes, attempting to rein in the whirlwind of emotions surging within you. It’s not the first time Cassian’s teased you and it won’t be the last and you’re certainly not the only one he flirts with. The female soldier from earlier being a prime example of that.

You know he means no harm by it. Yet, his teasing stings. Because you want it to be real, for him to mean every flirtatious gesture and word. You want him to like you and only you.

**

Nostrus's attempts to entice you into staying in his court become increasingly overt with each passing day. Every evening unveils a new gown adorned with matching jewelry and shoes. Precisely at the stroke of ten, the night sky ignites in a display of vibrant fireworks dedicated to the three of you but when you commented the red ones were your favorite, you note more shades of reds lighting up the night skies. Each morning, a charming arrangement of summer flowers graces your presence. Even the soldiers in your training group can't help but notice the High Lord's watchful gaze whenever he deigns to join them.

Azriel finds the spectacle amusing, always the silent observer to any unfolding drama. However, Cassian is less entertained. During your nightly debriefs with Rhysand, he consistently raises the issue and you’ve noticed that during training, he sticks closer to you. 

None of you bring up the heated moment you shared on your first night in Summer. It’s almost as if it didn’t happen at all and you’re not surprised. While it meant something to you, you know it meant nothing to him.

The female soldier, Olianna, you reluctantly learned her name, is as persistent with him as Nostrus is to you. You’re nearing the end of your first week when the female soldier and a couple of others join your nightly dinner with Nostrus and tonight, in her ruby red dress, she looks devastatingly beautiful. She takes the seat beside Cassian. Your unassigned but assigned spot. You begrudgingly sit beside Azriel instead, who is quick to raise a brow at you.

“Shut up.”

“I didn’t say anything,” he replies and when you kick his leg under the table, there’s the faintest of a coy smile on his lips.

You barely even touch your plate. There’s a bitter taste in your mouth and it’s not from the food. Cassian has barely even looked at you, engrossed in what appears to be a hilarious conversation with Olianna. You’re thankful when Nostrus excuses you all from dinner, quick to rise from your seat.

“Y/N, may I have a word?” Nostrus calls to you with a smile and when Cassian’s head perks up, finally sparing you a second of his attention, he adds: “In private.”

**

As you make your way back to your room, after a pointless conversation with Nostrus, your steps come abruptly to a halt. Your heart quickens and stomach tightens as you spot Cassian and Olianna down the hall.

Olianna’s hands rest on Cassian’s arms as she looks up at him. Her back is pressed against the wall. He leans down to whisper something that you can’t discern from your distance. It has her giggling and the sound is like a painful stab to your heart. They’re so, so close. That familiar ache settles in your chest, pushing down on you so harshly you can barely breathe. 

How desperately you wish to trade places with her and maybe that could’ve been you, if you had given in to his teasing the other night. While he’d give his body to you, you know his heart would not fall so easily such as the way yours did. Cassian is a true heartthrob, a man who effortlessly captivates the hearts of many but never the one to give his. Why would you be an exception?

You try to push away your unease but fail miserably when they walk further down the hall and disappear around a corner. Doubt begins to creep in, seeping into your bones with a terrifying chilling fear. Maybe, just maybe, there is something more between them and you had lost a battle only you were aware of fighting.

Tears burn at your eyes and as you hear the door shut behind him, you feel your heart shatter at the images that flood your mind. Of him kissing her, touching her and–Stop! 

You’re running blindly to your room, too caught up in your emotions to realize your mistake. Azriel blinks at your sudden entrance, seated on his bed. However, the distress etched across your face propels him to throw his book aside and jump to his feet. Shadows flit towards you, brushing against your exposed skin and he lets out a small exhale in relief when they report no injuries.

"Should I get Cas?" Azriel offers, eyes widening slightly as concern etches its way onto his features.

Your hand reaches out, stopping him before he can leave the room. "No."

He looks at you helplessly. He’s seen you cry before but Cassian was always there in those moments. Yes, Azriel regards you as a good friend–you’ve trained with him for many years alongside Cassian. He’d happily tend to your physical injuries because it was something he was capable of but the depth of your current pain is something he is unsure how to navigate. Something only Cassian uniquely understands.

"Okay," Azriel says slowly, shifting his weight from one foot to another. "What do you need?"

Frustration colors your attempt to wipe away the tears, and a sniffle escapes you. You’ve never felt so small, so fragile and as Azriel watches you break in front of him, realization dawns on him. Something must’ve happened between you and Cassian and his mouth parts to ask but you beat him to it.

"I need you to teach me how to swim." 

**

The next morning you can’t bring yourself to meet Cassian’s gaze. Images of him with Oliana flood your mind every time you cast a glance in his direction and the ache in your chest resurfaces. It’s irrational, you know. He’s not at fault for your feelings. After all, you’re just a friend to him. You have no claim to his affection, even though every fiber of your being yearns for it.

You are the problem.

When he reaches out, his hand lightly grasping your arm, you muster only a feeble greeting. You hear the concern in his voice as he asks what's wrong.

"Nothing," you reply, forcing a smile. "I'm just tired."

You feel the weight of his gaze burning into you as you head over to your group. He casts a glance toward Azriel in silent questioning but the Shadowsinger simply shakes his head. 

**

The sun bathes Summer’s training grounds in a warm glow and sweat clings to your skin as you show one of your soldiers a delicate maneuver with your sword that Illyrians favor during battle.

As your gaze lifts with your sword, you catch a glimpse of Cassian and Oliana sparring. Your chest tightens when you can’t help but notice their proximity to one another. The sweet sound of her laughter follows shortly after and the tightening in your chest is replaced with a burning fire.

“I don’t think I’m doing it right. Can you teach me again?”

“Of course.”

Cassian's gaze briefly meets yours, and a sudden rush of emotion courses through you. You’re quickly averting your eyes, attempting to feign disinterest. You tell yourself you're no longer watching them, but deep down, your mind is painting vivid pictures, imprinting scenes of Cassian with her. 

However, this time, it's not sadness that simmers within. It’s a burning anger and your siphons flare. Cassian is free to do whatever he pleases in his spare time but during training? When you’re working and glaringly right in front of you?

Olianna’s laughter rings out again, the sound mingling with the clash of steel. Another pang of envy stabs through your chest, sharper than the blade in your hand. 

“Like this?”

“Yeah, you got it, sweetheart.”

Your blood runs cold, sending shivers down your spine yet, there’s an undeniable blaze burning fiercely within your chest. It’s a possessive fire, a primal instinct screaming “mine” in the depths of your very being. Why does she get a sweet nickname and you a stupid one? Why is he so gentle in training her when he was harsh with you?

“That’s it,” you hiss under your breath, looking back at your group. “I’m going to show you how a fight is won.”

Tightening your grip on your sword, you nearly stomp your way to Cassian. Azriel’s head perks up from where he stands, eyes widening for a fleeting moment as he catches the glow of your siphons. “Y/n, what are–”

“Stay out of it!” You exclaim, pointing your sword at him. The sharp blade teases at his throat and he falters. His shadows whisper to him in warning and he holds his hands up in surrender, catching something flickering in your eyes.

Cassian and Oliana turn their heads at the commotion. She instinctively takes a step behind Cassian and your jaw clenches at the sight. He doesn’t seem to notice it though, attention solely focused on you.

 “What’s the matter, bibble?”

 You point your sword at him. “You.”

“Me?” He responds, a bewildered expression crossing his face. However, he remains unfazed as your sword points directly at his chest. 

“You’ve gone soft, General.” you tell him, inclining your head towards Oliana and you can’t bring yourself to care if your emotions seep out. The envy is coursing through you like an unrelenting fire. “How is she to hone in her skills when she spends most of her training laughing and batting her pretty eyelashes at you?”

Cassian lets out a chuckle. It’s been years since you’ve referred to him by his title. His hazel eyes take you in, sparkling at you with something you can’t discern. He can read the challenge in your eyes and when he finally spares a glance to the female behind him, he turns back to you. His fingers grasp at your blade carefully, lowering your sword so he can take a step forward. 

“She’s not ready to be challenged.”

You smirk at him, standing your ground. “A soldier is never fully prepared for battle.”

Cassian takes another step forward and though your sword lowers further, your grip on the hilt tightens. “And a General knows when it’s best for their soldiers to refrain from entering the battlefield.”

You take pleasure in the way Oliana huffs out indignantly from behind him.

You arch an eyebrow at him in challenge. Deep down, you’re aware nothing good is going to come from this but your Illyrian blood craves an outlet for the pent-up emotions that have been brewing for many years. 

“You fight me then,” you demand and you can feel the simmering fire between you intensifying. You welcome it, almost seeking the chaos it promises. "And don't you dare go soft on me."

His pupils flare and a sly smirk curls upon his lips. “I don’t think you can handle me.”

“Lay it all on me.”

**

Two blood rubies, sinister in their crimson glow, glisten back at you, creating a dance of hues that pulse and flicker with an inner fire. One for Cassian. One for you. Your heart sinks to your stomach and you want to cry.

This is all your doing. Your fault. 

Cassian, however, does not regard the rubies sent from the Summer Court with the same gravity. "Might as well put these beauties to use. I’m sure it would look stunning on a necklace. Maybe, even a ring,” he quips as he picks his up, hazel eyes sparkling with mirth.

You immediately sense that nothing good is going to come from this–the same way you did before the two of you accidentally destroyed a building. He turns to you and gets down on one knee. There’s a mischievous grin playing on his lips as he looks up at you.

“Marry me?" 

A rush of heat floods your face, and your eyes instinctively seek out Rhysand, finding him far from amused. He's fuming with a quiet rage, his gaze icy and piercing. You quickly avert your eyes, shifting your attention back to the Illyrian male now kneeling before you. You nudge his knee with your leg, ignoring the twinge of hurt at the expense of his joke.

"Get up, Cas.”

"Say yes.”

"Get up.”

“You think this is funny??”

You flinch at the sharpness of Rhysand’s tone and Cassian stands with a sigh. His hand brushes against yours but you don’t dare take it. You don’t deserve it. It’s only been hours since your abrupt return from Summer–since your heated fight sent an entire building crumbling into rubble. If Azriel hadn’t used his shadows to return you home immediately after, you’re not sure you’d be alive right now.

“I’m so sorry, Rhys,” you say,  lowering your head and Rhysand’s gaze softens at the nervous fidgeting of your hands. “It’s all my fault.” 

“No, it’s mine.” Cassian steps forward, hand resting on your waist to gently push you back behind him as he takes full responsibility. “I got caught up in the heat of the moment.”

“Cas, I’m the one who challenged you.”

He ignores you. “It was my blast that sent that building, as weak as it already was, to crumble down.”

Rhysand lets out a deep sigh. He leans back into his seat, fingers rubbing at his forehead at the images Azriel provides. He finds that you both are equally at fault. They’re complete wreck less idiots,  Rhysand groans into the Shadowsinger’s mind.

I know.  There’s a hint of amusement in Azriel’s response.

Running a hand down his face in exhaustion, Rhysand looks at both you and Cassian. 

You stand there, still behind Cassian, anxious as you await your impending punishment and he can literally hear your mind racing without having to intrude. Meanwhile, Cassian, seemingly unfazed, hums a carefree tune to himself, earning an incredulous glance from you. 

“Well I can kiss my alliance with the Summer Court goodbye but I will not have a High Lord from another court seeking vengeance on two of my closest friends. You each are going to write your most heartfelt apologies to Nostrus, beg if you must, and let us all pray to the Cauldron that he finds it in his heart to forgive you.”

Parchment, ink and quills appear at the desk before you. With a flick of his wrist, Rhysand uses his magic to bring forth two chairs, gesturing for you and Cassian to sit. “You two are not allowed to leave this room until those letters are finished.”

Rhysand then turns to Azriel. “I need you to watch them. Make sure they don’t destroy any of my buildings.”

A low, almost melodramatic groan escapes Azriel’s lips. “Why do I always have to babysit them?”

“Azriel.”

“Fine.”

Once Rhysand leaves, you slump into one of the chairs with a small sigh of relief. You pick up a quill, dipping it in ink and stare at the blank parchment. Cassian does the same. Azriel picks up a book from one of the shelves. He then seats himself at Rhysand’s chair, right across from you both.

“Please make this quick,” his voice almost pleads, eyes darting between you both.

“You write it for me then.” Cassian rips a piece of paper, crumbling it into a tiny ball before flicking it at his friend. Azriel rolls his eyes, his loyal shadows catching the piece of paper midair and sending it back to Cassian, hitting his forehead with a tiny “whoosh.”

Your eyebrows furrow in an attempt to focus, all the while trying to ignore the distracting bounce of Cassian's leg. Slowly but surely, you’re scribbling words onto the parchment and before you know it, you’re crafting the most sincere apology to High Lord Nostrus. 

Cassian picks up on your deep concentration. He leans in closer, warm breath tickling your ear. “Whatcha writing there, bibble?”

“An apology,” you respond dryly, shooting him a sideways glance. You take note that his paper is still blank. “Something you should be doing too if you want us to make it to dinner.”

“I am. I’m just brainstorming,” he retorts in a ‘duh’ tone. “Let me see yours!”

You’re sliding your parchment away from his prying eyes. “No. Use your own brain!”

Ever the persistent one, Cassian leans in even closer, his head now practically resting on your shoulder as your hands hover over your paper, careful not to smear the fresh ink. “Come on, just a peek. I promise not to steal your most heartfelt words.”

With an exasperated sigh, you relent, allowing him a quick glimpse. His eyes are skimming through the words with an appreciative tilt of his head. “I like it. But maybe add a bit more details and drama, you know? Tug at his heartstrings a little more, he seemed to like you a lot.”

“We’re not trying to craft a masterpiece to win an award, Cassian,” you hiss at him, snatching your letter away from him.

“But you are trying to free yourself of a death sentence.” Azriel remarks, peering over his book at you as he reminds you that receiving a blood ruby from the Summer Court is not something to be taken lightly.

“See? Az gets it.” Cassian chuckles.

“Shut up and get to writing.” Azriel snaps at the busybody beside you, a stern edge in his tone.

“Yes, sir!”

**

Fortunately, the three of you arrive just in time for dinner. Unfortunately, the predominant topic at the table centers around the destruction of the building in the Summer Court. Rhysand, having taken the time to cool down, is noticeably calmer. While he remains upset that you and Cassian veered off course from your assigned mission, there's also a hint of happiness in having his friends back home and safe.

Cassian casually drapes his arm over the back of your chair, and the room is filled with the melody of his laughter in response to something Mor said. Something you should’ve caught as you’re seated right across from her but it’s the rich scent of sandalwood that captivates all your senses, causing your stomach to flutter. You barely manage to swallow your food without choking–a fact not lost on Azriel. He, however, chooses not to comment, sparing you from further embarrassment and grinning into his glass of wine instead.

 Rhysand glares at Mor and you get a sense of what had been said when he says: “Please don’t encourage these architects of chaos.”

You groan, leaning back into your seat. The regret is instant as the edge of your wing brushes against Cassian’s arm. It sends a slight shiver down your spine and you’re mustering all your strength to keep it from causing your sensitive wings to twitch. You’re down bad.

“Can we please talk about something else?”

“Sure, but before we do…” Amren begins, a devious smile playing on her lips as she glances at you from across the table. “Can I keep the rubies?”

“Yeah and you can even keep the threat that comes with it too.”

The rest of dinner is, for the most part, uneventful. Rhysand excuses himself early to finish on some paperwork and before he leaves, he lets you and Cassian know that High Lord Nostrus should be receiving your written apologies by tomorrow morning. Amren leaves shortly after, eager to return to the quiet peace of her home. Just in time, too, as she manages to avoid a pointless argument between Cassian and Azriel over who has the best technique in training.

Not wanting to be dragged into it, you rise from your seat, grabbing a hold of the two remaining unopened wine bottles that Rhysand forgot to take back with him. You turn to Mor and you laugh when you don’t even have to say anything. She’s already standing from her seat, gesturing for you to lead the way.

The two of you end up in one of the living rooms and you’re touched when you find that the sentient house has a delicious assortment of desserts waiting for you on the coffee table. You sink into the comfort of the couch, feeling like you’re sitting on a cloud. Mor seats herself beside you, doing the honors of pouring you a glass of wine.

It doesn’t take long before the two of you are immersed into the dirtiest of gossip and catch up with one another. You move to pour yourself another glass only to find the second wine bottle empty, so you set your empty glass down on the coffee table. Leaning back into the comfort of the plush couch, you let out a sigh.

“I don’t know what he’s done to me,” you confess quietly, exhaustion taking over your features. “I’ve known him for years and all of sudden, I’m a possessive jealous mess? It doesn’t make sense to me.”

Mor raises a brow, as if it makes perfect sense to her. She then hums in contemplation, swirling the last drops of wine in her glass. “Maybe we should go out, have some fun, find a little distraction for you.”

“Or you can tell Cassian how you feel.”

The deep voice startles you both, causing Mor to gasp. Her glass falls from her grasps as Azriel emerges from the shadows. She regards the small specks of red tainting the white carpet with a frown before lifting her gaze to scowl at the Shadowsinger while you shoot him a mortified look.

“How dare you give her a reasonable option?” Mor chides him, waving her hands dramatically in the air.

“Stop with that nonsense, Az,” you say, a slight slur to your words. A frown settles onto your face, heart aching as your mind forces you to think of Cassian and Olianna. “He doesn’t feel the same for me as I do for him. I’ll only ruin our friendship if I do.”

Azriel’s eyes travel throughout the room. He takes in the empty bottles of wine, your hazy eyes and Mor’s flushed face. He looks like he wants to tell you something, on the verge of sharing a secret. Yet, whatever words linger on the tip of his tongue remain unspoken. He decides it’s best to turn around and leave, the inked wing on his arm burning further into his skin.

“Fine but don’t call me for help when you destroy another building.”

"Oh, fuck you."

He doesn't bother to turn around as he returns the gesture, a small chuckle escaping from him as he disappears into his shadows.

“So,” you turn back to Mor. “How about that distraction?” 

**

“By the Cauldron, you look absolutely ravishing.” Mor whistles, stepping back to appreciate her work and as you look at your reflection in the mirror, you can’t help but agree.

After asking Rhysand to fly you both down, Mor winnowed you both to the townhouse, where she kept most of her going out clothes as it was a shorter distance to Rita’s. Insisting on glamming you up, she took charge of your hair and makeup, even providing you with a choice from her wardrobe. Considering the wings, your options were limited, but your gaze was drawn to a striking red satin dress. It had an alluring lace-up open back and a daring slit hem.

After scouring the dance floor for an hour from your seat at the bar, you finally find someone who catches your interest and as you approach him, you’re happy to find that he isn't intimidated by the sight of your wings. Despite your determination to keep a low profile in Velaris, it becomes challenging to go unnoticed when your friends all possess such great reputations, especially when Cassian is by your side. Mor wishes you good luck, sending you a wink as you depart from her side. 

The male, who is named Felix, slings an arm around your waist, pulling you flush to him as you dance and you find yourself missing the scent of sandalwood immensely. He grins at you, intentions as clear as yours. “You’re so beautiful,” he says, drinking you under the neon lights of Rita’s. He licks his lips and glances over at your wings. “I’ve heard Illyrians can be very sensitive when it comes to their wings. Can I touch?”

Your mind immediately brings an image forward, of your wings being softly caressed, and heat pools down to your stomach. But in your head, it’s not the male in front of you. It’s Cassian’s.  

“Don’t you dare fucking touch her!”

By the Cauldron, your mind is playing tricks on you as you can even hear his voice too.

You feel the loss of warmth from the male and you open your eyes just in time to see Felix sent stumbling to the floor. Your mind wasn’t playing tricks on you. Cassian is standing in front of you, chest heaving. The people who had stopped to stare quickly avert their gazes at his heated stare.

Felix gets up to his feet. He doesn’t even spare you a glance or a word as he disappears into the crowd. You’re immediately leaving the dance floor, not bothering to grab your coat before you exit the club with Cassian hot on your heels.

You pivot and Cassian nearly bumps into you. “What the fuck Cassian?”

“Yeah,” he agrees, returning your glare. “What the fuck?”

“Why are you even here?”

“I don’t know. Something didn't feel right." Cassian confesses, placing a hand over his chest as if to settle a pain.

You turn back around, knowing the towering Illyrian male was already planning to follow you. You begin to make your way to your place–a small apartment that Rhysand had gifted you on your first solstice in Velaris. You seldom used it, preferring to stay at either the house of wind or townhouse, but Rhysand insisted you have a place of your own in case you ever need space.

“And that gave you the right to ruin my night?” you huff over your shoulder.

“Ruin your night? I just saved you!”

“From what?” You laugh with sarcasm, grateful that the walk from your apartment and Rita’s was short. Pulling your key out from your bra, you hastily unlock your door.  “An orgasm? Gee, thanks. Love you for that,” and then under your breath mutter: “I didn’t stop you from yours in Summer.”

As soon as you step through your door, you turn and shut it behind you. A boot stops you from doing so and Cassian pushes against you and the door, allowing himself in. “What are you talking about?”

“You mean to tell me nothing happened between you and Olianna?”

“Yes, because nothing happened! She asked me to help her with a move after dinner so I did and…” His voice trails off, and then a heavy silence descends as realization washes over him. He looks at you, and you instinctively avert your gaze.

Without bothering to slip off your heels, you dart straight to your room, desperate to put as much distance between the two of you. You’re not ready to have this conversation. Relief mingles with embarrassment, both emotions flooding you and sending blood rushing to your face. But Cassian is determined. He follows after you.

“Were you jealous?”

Arms crossed over your chest, you keep your back to him, wings curled around you. “No.”

Cassian chuckles, and before you know it, he's spinning you around to face him. One hand presses against your lower back, the other at your face. A smirk plays on his lips as he reads the defiant expression on your face. He knows you’re lying.

“You were jealous.”

“So were you,” you manage to say back.

Cassian hums in what can only be agreement. A thumb reaches out to brush your lower lip, the same way he did your first night in Summer, and then he’s replacing his thumb with his lips. The way he wanted to that night. His kiss is anything but gentle. It’s pure heated desire–one that has been simmering for years. You kiss him back, matching his urgency and he groans, allowing both of his hands to cup your face as his lips mold perfectly against yours.

He pulls away, his hands still cradling your face as his gaze burns into yours. “You want to orgasm tonight? I can give it to you.”

A thrill runs down your spine and your wings shudder. You should push him away. Cassian is your friend. A friend… who is offering to give you an orgasm with a very promising look at this very moment. Though your heart tells you not to, that you might end up hurt after this, there’s that singing in your chest again. Give in.

“You sound so confident.”

His eyes darken as his legs push against yours, walking you both to your bed. The back of your knees meet your bed and you give in, allowing yourself to fall onto the soft sheets behind you. You land on your elbows and push yourself even further up on your bed until your back meets your headrest.

“Don’t test me, baby,” he purrs, watching the way your thighs clench in response to the new nickname. It makes his cock harden in his pants. “I can have you screaming all night long.”

“Lay it all on me,” you reply, heart be damned.

Cassian wastes no time in stripping himself of his clothes, lust filled eyes fixated on you. His hard cock springs free and your eyes widen because yes, you’ve seen him before but not like this. Not when he’s hard and leaking and it’s all for you. He pumps himself, licking his lips, as your arousal floods his senses before easing himself onto the bed.

He slips your heels off and discards them. His hands caress their way up your legs and the roughness of his hands, weathered by many battles and challenges, feels heavenly against you. As his hands make their way higher, they begin kneading at the soft flesh of your thighs, dragging your dress up along with his movements. He groans at the thin lace that greets him, pressing his lips against your clothed core.

“You’re so fucking wet.”

“Well, you did catch me in the middle of something promising earlier…”

Cassian growls at your words, a wave of possessiveness taking over him. “Yeah? Well, by the time I’m done with you, it will be my cum dripping out of this pretty pussy.”

He’s tugging at your underwear, hastily dragging it down your legs. With a devious smirk, he grasps your hands and places them over his hair.

It’s the only warning he gives you before diving right in and setting you alight with his mouth. His nose brushes against your clit as he begins to fuck you with his tongue. “Do you know how often I thought of this? Of tasting you.”

You want to tell him you’ve thought of this too but you’re too lost in the pleasure of his mouth. All you can do is moan and it spurs him on, urging him to bring you closer to your release.  “I can only imagine how good I’ll feel inside you.”

His words, a promise of what is to come, is your undoing. You’re squirming beneath him, back arching off the bed as you thread your fingers through his hair. A string of curses leaves your lips when he presses multiple kisses to your clit, overwhelming you in such a delightful way.

Cassian pulls away, mouth glistening with your release as he grins and your heart flutters. He crawls his way up your body, replacing his tongue with his fingers, reveling in the way they easily slide in. His lips slot over yours in a sloppy and heated kiss. When he slips another finger into you, you’re moaning into his mouth. His tongue dances with yours, wrestling for dominance that you ardently submit to.

“Please, Cassian,” you’re begging when his lips leave yours and his cock twitches at the pretty sounds that follow after. Another wave of white hot pleasure crashes over you and he groans, loving the way you're clenching so tightly around his fingers. “I need you.”

Cassian slips his fingers out of you, placing his hands at your hips to flip the both of you over. He adjusts you to straddle his lap, gaze burning into you with need. “Show me.”

“But let’s get rid of this first.” His fingers toy with the slit of your dress. “I need to see all of you.”

You nod, fingers reaching behind to undo the laces of your dress. The sound of fabric ripping reaches your ears before you can undo the first knot and cool air caresses against the newly exposed skin. 

“Cassian!”

“That’s my name, baby,” he grins at you, expertly unclasping your bra and throwing it behind you along with the torn dress.

“That wasn’t my dre–oh.” Your protest dies at your throat, eyes fluttering shut as he takes your breasts in his hands, kneading the soft flesh and pressing them together. The torn dress you borrowed from Mor is long forgotten, stored away in the back of your mind. The same way you stored away all your reservations. The desire that’s been consuming you is too much for you to think through reasonably so you succumb completely into it, knowing there will be consequences to deal with later.

**

It’s almost embarrassing how much Cassian has thought about this, especially after the tease you gave him in Summer. His desires had gone beyond wanting to kiss you that night. He wanted to see, feel and taste every part of you. To hear you moaning and screaming just for him. Now, that you’re completely bare before him, he can look, feel and taste all he wants. And he plans to bask in every second of your warmth.

 “So fucking beautiful,” he breathes, leaning in to take a breast into his mouth, tongue swirling around your hardening nipple with burning hunger. Your hands find purchase in his hair again as you arch yourself further, grinding against him. Lewd moans escape from both of you when the tip of his cock brushes against your sensitive clit. Cassian dives for your neck next, pressing hot open mouthed kisses everywhere he can. 

“Come on, baby girl. Show me how much you need me and ride me.”

Aligning yourself with him, you slowly sink down onto his cock, savoring the burn from the stretch. His fingers run up and down your sides before settling onto your hips. Eyes fluttering shut at the sheer intensity of your warmth, he can’t help but thrust up into you, fully sheathing himself inside you. His head tilts back when you begin to move and he releases a deep groan.

It’s when your thighs start to tremble and wings flare out that he takes over. He hugs you tightly, arm wrapped around your waist while his other hand rubs at your clit. While he pants and groans against your neck, you’re crying and screaming out his name. He plants his feet on the bed and thrusts ruthlessly up into you over and over again until you both reach your high, wings flaring out. 

**

As Cassian stirs in bed, a cool emptiness greets him, replacing the warmth he expected. Blinking his eyes open, he finds the spot beside him empty. You're gone. The lingering trace of your sweet scent is the only evidence of what transpired between you both. Fuck. Apprehension weighs down on his mind in your absence, threatening to sicken his stomach. He needs to talk to you. 

After freshening up and slipping into the spare clothes he keeps at your place, his determination to find you takes hold. It's as if he can sense the storm of emotions within you—guilt, anxiety, and fear. There’s an inkling in his mind as to where you are. He knows you so well. A soft smile graces his lips when he spots you on the training grounds of the house of wind, unleashing powerful strikes on a punching bag.

Your hair is gathered into a carefree bun, and today, you've traded your usual leathers for leggings and a sports bra. You’re a vision of strength and beauty and as loose strands of your hair dance in the breeze, Cassian finds himself lost in the realization of just how deeply in love with you he is. 

He lands softly, fighting the urge to frown when he notices the immediate tension in your body from his presence. He hesitates, his throat bobbing as he looks at you, uncertainty flickering in his eyes. "Can we—"

"No, let me talk first," you interrupt with a deep sigh as you turn to face him.

"But I had something to say first," he insists with a slight shake of his head.

“I have something more important to say."

Cassian crosses his arms, challenging your claim. "My something is more important than your something."

“I love you.”

The words hang in the air and as the weight of your confession sinks in, a wave of fear grips you. You're certain you've just shattered any hopes of a remaining friendship with him. Because after last night, there's no way you can keep going on as a friend when you want to be so much more. The silence becomes maddening, and suddenly, you can't hold it any longer.

“I love you so much it hurts,” you admit with a trembling breath, tears welling in your eyes. “Because I want your every smile, your every laugh, but above all, I want your heart and–and I’m sorry for–”

“Oh, y/n,” Cassian interrupts with a chuckle.

The sound makes you go weak and you’re absolutely mortified. He rarely ever calls you by your name. He’s about to break your heart, the very thing you’ve been fearing since the realization of your feelings. The urge to run away grips you, but your feet remain planted. You lack the strength to escape the moment. Tears flow freely down your face, and your wings sag behind you, unable to bear the weight of vulnerability.

“You’ve had my heart from the start.”

Slowly, you lift your gaze. Hazel eyes bore into yours, the golden flecks glimmering at you. “What?”

He steps closer to you until he's standing right in front of you. His hands cradle your face as he wipes at your tears. “I’ve loved you for years. I thought I made it pretty obvious, especially after last night.”

“Not obvious enough,” you remark with a huff but there’s a playful and affectionate undertone in your voice.

“I could remind you again?”

"Please."

A radiant smile breaks onto Cassian’s face, and the warmth in his eyes washes away any doubt that may have lingered in your heart. Something within you flutters madly against your ribs. All these years…the teasing, the flirting, the lingering touches. They all meant something to him, the same way it did for you. You’ve loved him and he loved you back. So many years wasted, yearning and pining for one another. As you gaze into each other’s eyes, so many unspoken words are said and there’s a shared understanding that you’re not wasting another moment.

**

Rhysand raises his cup of coffee to his lips, the rich aroma swirling around him as he catches a glimpse of Cassian, carrying you over his shoulder, with an eagerness he’s familiar with. He then glances over the rim of his mug at Azriel, seated across from him at the breakfast table.

"Do you think they know?"

Azriel snorts in response. "Doubt it. I think you should tell them."

“No.” Rhysand's lips curve into a smirk. "Let's see how long it takes them to realize that their mating bond has snapped into place."

“We should probably head out.”

“Good idea,” Rhysand replies with a nod of his head.

In the blink of an eye, the sentient house packs the remnants of their breakfast for them to enjoy elsewhere. Without a moment's delay, they make their way to one of the balconies. Their wings gracefully unfurl behind them, catching the morning sunlight that bathes them in a golden glow.

As they soar away, you and Cassian remain blissfully unaware of the invisible thread that has silently bound your souls together for years.

tagging: @historiaxvanserra

a/n: I always wanted to write a fic where a mating bond has snapped but neither of them have a clue because they already loved each other, might be a bit unrealistic but 🤷‍♀️ I came across this bibble meme while writing this and it reminded me of both reader and Cas in some aspects. Since I couldn't think of an embarrassing nickname, I went with Bibble and so now the cute little character is canon in Prythian in this lol.

if you want more background info on reader and cas: click here

Other things that I included in this part:

This scene from Vampire Diaries.

also, this tiktok.

[snoopyracing]

wanna be yours 2.0 // ln4 social media au // part three

part one | part two | alternate ending

pairing: lando norris X american!reader / mclaren photographer!reader and slight pato o'ward X reader

warnings: swearing

summary: a remix of my fic wanna be yours in social media au form. or basically lando and the reader both being in love with each other but being too stubborn and scared to say anything so they suffer in silence until one finally crumbles.

contains: best friends to slight strangers to lovers, pining, angst, jealous!lando, asshole!lando, clueless!lando, and perhaps a little lando or pato? situation.

masterlist

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───

may 26th, 2024

liked by y/bsf, patriciooward, landonorris and 98,520 others

y/n.jpg: something about an empty track the morning of a race (yes i was here so early that i got to watch the sunrise)

patriciooward: did you sleep at the track lol??

↳ y/n.jpg: no... but the gates may have still been locked when i got here. 🧍‍♀️

mclaren: missing you this weekend! -liked by author

user1: girl.... we saw that pic from last night...

user3: i'm feeding my delusions by thinking that lando is on the mclaren account commenting

user7: lando in the likes once again...god please let him comment again soon.

liked by patriciooward, arrowmclaren, y/bsf and 105,321 others

y/n.jpg: so incredibly proud of you today pato!!! you gave it your all and left everything out on that track. so happy i was able to come back and spend this week with the whole arrow mclaren family. always a special week and one i've missed immensely. next year is yours pato. ❤️

patriciooward: it was a bittersweet day. would have loved to win, but loved having you here this year. gracias mi amor. -liked by author

arrowmclaren: so nice to have you back y/n! you know you're always welcome!! -liked by author

landonorris: @.patriciooward you killed it out there today man. you should be proud.

↳ patriciooward: thanks lando!

user4: um lando in the comments... and commenting to pato... maybe war is over

user3: if pato and y/n don't end up together i'm gonna lose my shit

user9: still team lando y/n

may 27th, 2024

may 28th, 2024

y/n.jpg added to their story

y/bsf replied to your story

↳ girl.... is this lando??? i saw that tweet from the gossip page

may 29th, 2024

liked by landonorris, y/bsf, logansargeant and 285,650 others

y/n.jpg: the love of my life (everyone act normal please)

landonorris: the first pic.... you're lucky i love you

↳ y/n.jpg: it's a cute pic 🤭

y/bsf: FINALLY!!!!!!!

↳ y/n.jpg: did i not say to act normal?

logansargeant: oh thank god... i couldn't stand his moodiness anymore.

↳ landonorris: i was not moody 😐

↳ oscarpiastri: yes you were

user2: Y/N LANDO TRUTHERS WE WON!!!!

user4: pato and y/n :(

user9: there is no way to be normal about this.

liked by y/n.jpg, oscarpiastri, maxfewtrell and 900,402 others

landonorris: the love of my life, my baby, my world, my everything.

y/n.jpg: i love you so much 🩷

maxfewtrell: thank god. didn't think you two were ever going to get together.

↳ landonorris: well sorry mate. guess we all don't have the charisma that you do.

↳ y/n.jpg: max and charisma do not belong in the same sentence

↳ maxfewtrell: 🤨

oscarpiastri: so happy for you guys! -liked by author

user4: this actually made my year.

user7: when does this get to happen to me?? i need me a man that's so down bad like lando.

user1: how did he bag a baddie like y/n? can you fight lando norris?

tag list: @daisyfreecs @mel164 @hurtblossom @the-untamed-soul @ameliaalvarez06 @ahnneyong @landotd @spideylovin @wobblymug @vizzzashley @urfavsgf @lunamelona @sunflowervol18 @kiwi43-81 @horneybeach1 @czennieszn @dontworryboutitokie @weekendlusting @deamus-liv @lexiecamposv @nikki1dxx @eggingamazinglove @folklorelover888 @hashcakes @sarx164 @misspygmypie @ziraelmtd @sarah-thatstings-ann @gnarlycore @plotpal @formulaal @tremendousstarlighttragedy @saachiep81 @alana4610 @kissesandmartinis @green--beanie @moodymoony71 @tvdtw4ever @lottalove4evelyn