#focus on the face yeah? great

[mewkwota]

November 2013 → November 2023

Boo-haha, sorry for the Twink Simon Jumpscare. I can't believe it's been 10 whole years since I started drawing this vampire hunter. And all because of a little bond he had with two other platformer boys.

Though I only got into seriously looking into Simon and his series 4-5 years ago, he had always been a character of interest to me. Just, not as much back then as he is now, but I'm glad I gave him that chance.

I've always wanted to redraw this scene from a super old comic I made, it's pretty much the first uploaded comic I ever drew of him.

[aroaessidhe]

2025 reads / storygraph

The Wild Robot Protects

book 3 in the wild robot trilogy, middle grade sci-fi

A strange poison tide infects the sea and surrounds the island, and Roz ventures out into the ocean to try and find a solution

she explores flooded underwater towns and meets lots of new creatures, until a wise Ancient Shark tells her that the poison is caused by a human mining station, and she’ll have to find a way to stop it

[moonfurthetemmie]

H!DS Kevin’s chicken form is about as heavy as your average chicken. He’s also small. That makes him throwable.

Please imagine for me Pluto picking Kevin up, yelling “YEET”, throwing Kevin at some threat they’re dealing with, and Kevin shifting to his dinosaur/demon form mid-air

all that his target(s) can see is teeth and claws. And all they can hear his velociraptor screeching.

and maybe Pluto (+ Slash and Byte if they’re there) cackling

[mangled-by-disuse]

talking to friends about The Horrors, specifically the Trumpian Horrors, and, like

the more I consider it, the more I think that the best thing we outside the US can do - for ourselves, for the world, and for America as well - is to just holler to the fucking rooftops that AMERICA IS NOT THE WORLD.

By which I mean:

we do not let politicians, media, and our own social circles convince us that American issues are the only issues worth discussing;

we challenge politicians, media, and our own social circles on the politics of appeasement;

we challenge ourselves on the assumption that laws passed in the US affect us directly, and we do not place ourselves in American shoes;

we focus on our own shit. Not because it's more important, but because we need to remember that it still exists. Our eyes cannot be on the USA while the legislative and political rights in our own countries are eroded from under us.

we look to the rest of the world. We get used to viewing people who don't look like us, talk like us, or even like us as an equal and crucial part of the political landscape.

WE ARE LOUD ABOUT THIS. In politics, in activism, in social contexts, in our own assessment of our own politics, we remember and hold up that America is NOT the centre of the world, and that American hegemony is NOT inevitable.

This is not because I'm trying to undermine American struggles. This is because the Trump administration is strengthened and bolstered by every other country that chooses to suck the cock of American supremacy in the desperate attempt to maintain the last remnants of the old imperial order.

It is up to everyone in the world to challenge that, and to say: yeah, this fucking sucks, and we want America to be better, but we don't need America.

There are other markets. There are other allies and potential allies. There are other global powers (Personally I think we should try to dismantle global powers entirely, but, you know, one battle at a time) and there are other political shifts.

So much of the current rightward swing in the UK, at least, is directly modelled on MAGA to the point that it's the same movement, to the point where the branches of that movement feed power and influence to one another. You know what has consistently been one of the more successful tactics? Fucking reminding people that they are not, in fact, offering solutions to the problems Britain faces, because these are American solutions and we are not America.

idk it feels stupid to say this. it feels stupid to have to point out that Not Everywhere Is America, and it feels even stupider to think that this is something that needs pointing out to the systems of power. But the more I think about it, the surer I am that one of the tentpoles of American power, and therefore of Trump's power (in the US as well as beyond it!) is just... the willingness of so much of the world to say: yeah, sure, everything is America.

WE ARE NOT AMERICA.

AMERICA DOES NOT HAVE TO CONTROL US.

idk. maybe it won't change shit. but maybe yelling that at international power structures loudly enough - making noise about issues that are not American, focusing our efforts outside America, challenging American supremacy on the global stage - is, in fact, the most useful thing we can do.

[unproduciblesmackdown]

skinamarble hornets, i was like i hope my favorite skinamascene has been uplomarinked on youtube....reminds me of that season one marble hornets entry that's the First House Visit and how i saw it described somewhere as like "absolutely nothing happens, & it's terrifying" & it reminds me of the torment of watching as the series was released & Every Time something came out, no matter what happened in like setting, atmosphere, plot, scares, there'd be someone going "ugh another Nothing entry" over the most crucial &/or enjoyable shit so long as it didn't feature [& he's cookin hot dogs on the stove???] & didn't feature it like every other minute for good measure. as though a format that is predictable, like the promise of the same kind of scene in the same intervals of timing, would actually be scary or at all interesting. shoutout to these the entries, or even intervals of time within entries, where "absolutely nothing happens" and it's called suspense in knowing it Could, tension in an unsafe, uneasy, unsettling situation in the meantime, & then also potential followup recontextualization that only creates more tension for later similar material. ("absolutely nothing" happens (of course, actually, things happen, but) in the skinamarink scene save for the literal last few seconds when the "jumpscare" is a very brief change in audio & visuals which is neither actually that loud nor like showing anything scary(tm) (technically a la marble hornets i think people say you can like see an arm extend for a nanosecond but i never catch it if so lol) but rather hits at all because of 8 minutes of suspense & tension & Nothing Happening But It Could) (also bravely standing up like "it's fine that skinamarink has some jumpscares, including the obvious few even jumpier than this" like who cares if it's "easy" necessarily & also that Knowing such startlement can happen ramps up the tension even when it didn't, but it could've. like so)

[loveanddeepdick]

nerd!nanami

the scent of the movie theater was strong, popcorn, metal, and a hint of sugar. you wanted to go out with nanami after he had a long week at work and he happily agreed.

call him possessive but he loved how you clung to him even when he had his hands full, a reminder to him that you were his. he had let you pick the movie, holding a large popcorn and two icees in his muscular arms

“hmm.. do you like horror movies, kento?”, you hummed, pouting slightly as you raked your eyes over the movies that were playing.

“ah.. i’m not opposed to them”

“oh! how about batman?”

most people wouldn’t have noticed, but you saw nanami slightly shift, his eyebrows raising as his attention peaked. his adam’s apple bobbing as he cleared his throat.

“yeah, batman sounds great, sweetheart”

you smiled, narrowing your eyes a bit before he went up to the counter, buying two tickets with the expensive seating, the ones where the chairs reclined and came with a remote.

settling into your seats, you decided to tease him a bit.

“so.. kenny, you like batman, huh?”, you giggled, biting into a piece of popcorn

“well, i liked it when i was a kid, sweetheart”, he took a bite of popcorn as well, keeping his eyes on the screen as the ads before the movies played.

“hm.. so you don’t like it anymore?” you smiled, watching as he shook his head no while avoiding eye contact, “so what if we watched that new marvel movie—“

“no. this is better, honey”

you nodded, grinning as the theater lights dimmed, the screen glowing on his face as he nervously fidgeted. his eyes never left the screen, his pupils focused like a cat focusing on prey. he squeezed your hand at some parts, mumbling under his breath.

“that costume was first designed in 1999, honey, it’s not a fan favorite but i think it’s great”

“that part isn’t lore accurate, in the comics, that villain didn’t die”

you could only smile, watching him focus on the screen so intently as he so adamantly claimed that he didn’t care about batman.

after the movie, you wrapped your hand around his burly arm, walking out of the movie theater

“soo, how about next time we watch superma—“

“no.”

[plaidcowboy]

pls i need more soft rafe 🧎🏾‍♀️ i feel like people barely writes for him all soft and cutie

◜ RAFE CAN’T FOCUS ��� during movie night ᮫ ۪ ۫ ֢

༝ ﹆ softie rafe ༝ ⊹ ᰍꫬ distracted rafe ༝ ੭

you playfully shoved rafe’s hand when it went to lie on you again. you glanced over to see him lull his head onto the back of the couch, upset after another failed attempt. you giggled at his slight pout, “at least the first ten minutes” you referred to the film you put on for you two to watch. it was a favorite of yours and you wanted to introduce it to him. “’m down” he had said. but seeing you in your cute pj set all snuggled up next to him, made him distracted.

“just give me a brief synopsis so i know what i’m watching . . i’m paying attention, i just wanna . . pay more attention . . ” you watched as his brows slowly furrowed and a frown formed on his face as his sentence went on. he didn’t even know what he was talking about.

you nodded, going along so you two could just start the movie. “so, they’re starting their first senior year of high school. well, at least she is. you’ll figure out why he technically isn’t later . . ” you were cut off by rafe gripping the bottoms of your set. “where’d you get this from? i want to put you in more.”

you grabbed his hand, putting it back onto his lap. “were you listening?” you huffed out. rafe looked up to you, “yeah, she’s a senior, he isn’t . . what?” rafe realized your words.

you giggled, “no, they’re both seniors, he just . . well, you’ll see. anyway . .” rafe halted your words again, “no, seriously, what store? you look so cute like that explaining your favorite movie. i could listen to you talk about anything. i’d believe anything you say. i don’t even have to watch the movie, you just tell me everything and i sit here and stare at you. is that an option?”

you froze, hands mid gesture while explaining. “no . . not an option” rafe’s head slung down. he sighed, “yeah, i figured.”

“rafe!” you grabbed his face, getting closer to him by shuffling forward on your knees, “it’s not that hard! it’s a good movie. watch this one, then we can do whatever you want.”

you’d thought that would tempt him. but instead . . “i really like when you touch me. have i ever told you, your hands are so soft, and i might be one of those physical touch people. but i only want touch from you, all the time. what is that called?”

you sat, staring at him. “um . . obsessed.”

rafe nodded in your hands. “yeah, that’s it. i like touching you too . . ” he pulled your waist, head coming down onto your neck. you felt him take a breath. “and you smell good. jus’ wanna cover you in bites. can i, please?”

you sighed, not understanding how you two strayed from the movie this much. “so . . no movie?” rafe’s head came up, frowning at the look on your face. “no, we’re watching this movie. my baby wants to watch this movie, we’ll watch it. she gets anything she wants.”

you couldn’t help the smile that formed, “okay, yay. will you actually focus?” you rose your brow at him, mockingly serious.

“yep,” rafe rose his hands in surrender, “no touching . . ” he quickly put his hands back onto your waist, “actually, no. got to touch.”

you giggled out a, “fine,” and turned in his lap to continue the movie. “comfy?” you asked.

“of course,” you heard from behind you. “great. there’s four more movies after this.”

“there’s what?”

[synvil]

Recording.. // Pornstar! Rafe Cameron x Pornstar! Fem! Reader

a/n: welp, this will be interesting. there’s so many ways this can go but let’s see which one i came up with.

synopsis : getting to work with the famous, most current top rated star in the porn industry was a dream. Let’s see how it turns out for you. pornstar! au!

warnings : explicit content! penetration, choking, cunnilingus, afab!, multiple orgasms, roughness, squirt, etc.

“[Name], thank you for coming. Did you get the email regarding today’s content?”

Shaking hands with the producer, you share a smile and nod, pulling away. “Yes, I read through it. I’m alright with it all.”

“Great, and I take it you’ve already showered and cleaned up before coming? Any questions?”

You nod again to the first part before thinking for a moment and parting your lips to speak. “Actually, I just wasn’t sure who I would be working with today. That wasn’t clear in the email.”

The producer exhales in understanding and hears the door opening, “Actually, we needed confirmation that he was willing to come in today,” and a tall, muscular and toned male steps out, a towel around his neck and in nothing but boxers and some gym shorts. “And there he is. Cameron!”

“Cameron..?”

The male who steps out looks up as he ruffles one end of the towel against his head of hair. “Yeah?” Almost immediately, he locks eyes with you.

Holy shit.

THE Rafe Cameron. The highest rated star in the industry, where every man and woman alike would kill to meet the handsome stud, much more, to work with him.

Must be a fever dream.

When you first auditioned to be part of this industry, Rafe was only beginning to take off.

And now that you were one of the top stars alongside him, Rafe was the highest rated one, and every woman who ever had the chance to work with him, could never be the same.

Thing is, you had no idea what he was like. Was he rude? The pompous kind of asshole? Or was he charismatic and sweet? But if he was, was it just for show?

Many thoughts begin to flood your head until you realize the producer and Rafe have been talking, and now he’s coming over to you, hand extended out.

“Hi, it’s nice to meet you.”

“Y-Yeah, same.” You mentally curse yourself out for your anxiety and shake his hand but even more for the fact that you have yet to make eye contact, still glazing over his dripping wet bare body.

Rafe follows your gaze and gives a small chuckle, a charming smirk following it as he pulls away. “Sorry, thought I’d get a quick shower in before we start our filming.” He explains but you just manage a small nod. “R-right.”

The producer comes over and pats both of your shoulders. “Alright, now that we’ve done introductions, we’ll go over the scene once more with both of you and we’ll get started. Rafe, why don’t you go get dressed and I’ll get [Name] prepped?”

Rafe nods and gives you one more glance, his smirk still shining at you. With a wink, he turns away and takes his leave.

That smirk.. it sends a certain thrilling feel of desire in your stomach and you swallow thickly before attempting to focus your gaze on the producer, who begins to instruct the scenes.

Here you are..

“I can’t believe you!”

You shout as you slam the front door behind you, just for it to open a second later and Rafe coming in. “God, you’re insufferable!”

The current scene was you and Rafe coming home from the bar, celebrating a night of a special occasion, you had gotten a promotion at work.

And now you were rushing inside, having caught your on and off boyfriend of two years, openly flirting with another woman right next to you, once again.

At least that what it looked like to you, but your boyfriend has cheated before, and you weren’t going through it again.

“Would you just listen to me for one second?!”

Rafe’s voice follows after you while you take off your heels and throw it his way. “Don’t fucking talk to me!”

He narrowly dodges the heels thrown at his face before the expensive bag in your hand is also aimed for his head.

“What are you doing?” He asks, catching the bag with a scoff as you retreat to the kitchen.

“Take it back. I don’t want it anymore, we’re done.”

“Done? So you’re just giving all the things i bought you, back?” Rafe looks at you in disbelief as you begin to take off the jewelry on your person and drop it on the counter with a clink.

“I’m done with second chances, you asshole. You can’t just do one nice thing for me, one night.” I curse, slamming my hands down on the countertop as I turn to face him.

Rafe calmly sets the bag down as he stands opposite of you of the counter and sighs softly. “Baby, you’re not thinking straight, just let me explain before you-“

“Before I what? Break up with you for the final time?” You pull off the bracelets until you’re finally free of any jewelry and slide it towards him. “Take it all back.”

This time, Rafe can’t help but curl his lips into an amused smile, as he watches you return everything on you that he had bought for you.

“All of it?”

You tsk and point to the doorway. “The heels are back there.” You remind him though he was obviously aware.

“Alright, everything.. then the dress is included, right?”

. . .

“W-What?-“ Clearly taken back, Rafe’s lips forms a smirk at your clear surprise.

“Last I checked, I bought that stunning black gown you’re wearing tonight.. to celebrate.. remember?”

His words cause you to purse your lips and you’re aware of his slow advances towards you as he rounds the island counter in the kitchen. Rafe doesn’t break eye contact, keeping his eyes trained on you as he does this.

Tensions are high and you know he’s right, but you also know what will happen if you take off the dress.

However, behind the facade, behind the cameras rolling, your inner self is ready to burst. Your cheeks are beginning to flush and you can feel the intensity of his gaze on your body, trailing up and down your figure. Whether or not he was in character was unclear but it still made you wet with arousal at the sight.

Reluctantly, you bring your hands up to the straps, pulling it to the side of your shoulders and down slowly.

Rafe’s eyes hungrily takes in your fully naked form, you weren’t even wearing panties.

Your lack of undergarments weren't part of the script, which you can tell catches Rafe by real surprise momentarily, but it quickly dissipates into a smirk instead.

“No underwear?.. How naughty of you..” he murmurs as he finally makes it to your side and you fight the blush that’s threatening to spread and darken further.

“Shut up-“

Rafe just chuckles at your reaction as his hands sneaks around your bare waist. He looks down from his height with a certain glint in his eyes. “Hey, i’m not complaining..” He says as his head moves to your neck, kissing your collarbone softly. “it's kinda sexy..”

What the hell, I can’t respond.

He’s so hot.. i need to talk.. but im speechless..

My heart is pounding so hard— Relax, [Name], this is all just acting- Rafe Cameron is just acting.

You’re overthinking, stay professional!

But the next thing you knew, Rafe Cameron’s lips were smashing against yours in an intense, heated kiss.

And the faint whimper that escaped your lips wasn’t fake.

Needy hands roam your body everywhere, his lips planted on your neck and kissing every inch of your skin. He raises his head up to your ear and whispers, his breath hot. “You good?” It was quiet and subtle, not loud enough to pick up on the microphone hanging near us.

You nod faintly, and he grins, not waste another second ravishing you.

All the prior anxiety and worries you had faded and you found yourself melting into the kiss, Rafe’s muscular arms lifting you up by the waist and placing you on the counter, the cold touch making you gasp.

That gasp was enough time for him to allow his tongue to slip in, the muscle exploring inside your mouth, making you moan lightly.

Every movement was full of passion, Rafe fondling your breasts, giving each mound a full squeeze. His fingertips pinch your buds, a gentle twist causing you to send a breathy sigh. Your hands find their way to his hair and tangle your fingers in the locks of his dirty blonde locks.

Rafe's low chuckles reaches your ears again as he travels up to nip at your earlobes. His right hand goes down to dip between your thighs, his index finger planting itself right at your clit. He rubs it a few times before whispering, "So wet.. I can't wait to taste your pretty pussy.."

It's almost a growl when he says it, sending rushes of adrenaline through your body and the boost of arousal grows further in you.

The Rafe Cameron gives you one last kiss on the lips before he slowly slides down to his knees, muscular hands grabbing a hold of your thighs tight and firm, and being face to face with your already glistening pussy.

He licks his lips and doesn't hesitate to dive face first, tongue taking a long lick to your folds before going down on you. "O-oh, fuck-" Your eyes flutter shut at the wet sensation, a sharp inhale slipping out.

Holy shit, it felt incredible.

Rafe's tongue moves in circles around your clit a few times before continuously slurping up your juices that leaked from your folds, devouring your pussy like he was starved.

Your hands prop up your body by placing it firmly on the surface under you, but you can't help the hand that goes to tug on his hair and push his face deeper in, which causes him to chuckle deeply, the action creating vibrations through you.

"Oh god, Rafe." You breathily pant, his grip forcing your thighs to remain spread while his tongue prods at your entrance, pushing in and out. "Shit.. you taste incredible.." He mutters as his nose buries itself against your clit. The feeling is enough to send you into overdrive, your head tossing back and a tightening in your stomach makes you cry out.

"R-Rafe, I'm so close-"

Grinding your hips against his face, you illicit a loud mewl of pleasure, your body sending shocks throughout as you tremble from a hard orgasm.

Despite your fluids gushing down his chin, he continues to delve deeper in, overstimulating you, causing your thighs to shake as you cry out again, making him laugh.

“Aw, was it too much for you, sweetheart?” He grins mischievously and you flush, ignoring the way your heart flutters at the nickname as you attempt to catch your breath, watching as he licks his lips and stands up straight, ripping off his button up.

You can feel your mouth going dry at the sight of his toned, chiseled abs, the sweat glistening on his skin but what widened your eyes was the sight of his hardened bulge through his trousers, and you reach for the hem of his pants and pull him close, wrapping your legs around his torso.

Remembering you’re still on camera, you speak, “This doesn’t mean I forgive you.” You mutter, staring into his eyes while your hands palm him softly, working to unzip his zipper. But your words only cause him to flash a smirk as he helps you undo his trousers. “Oh don’t worry, sweetheart, by the time i’m done with you, you’ll forget about tonight.”

Crashing his lips with yours, you grunt but let him pull you even more towards the edge before pulling you down to the ground, his hands pulling the waistband of his pants and boxers down.

He strokes himself a few times, your eyes unable to help itself to the sight and you swallow thickly.

“Something wrong, baby?” He hums in amusement and you turn away a bit bashfully. “Not at all.”

Turning you around so you faced away from him, he breaks into a smirk as he wraps his arm around to give you a hand necklace, your throat firm in his grasp. Lining himself up at your entrance, he leans in close and speaks lowly. “Good, because I don’t intend to stop.”

Without warning, he inserts his length inside and you cry out a noise of pleasure. Your back at arches and he tightens his grip on your throat, but not enough to hurt you. “Heh, shit, you’re so fucking tight..” It almost seemed like it was actually Rafe saying this to you, instead of his character, but you didn’t have much time to think about it after as he begins to thrust into you from behind.

“F-Fuck-!”

One hand goes up to grab ahold of his arm that was holding your neck, and the other holds onto the counter for support. Every hard thrust causes your breasts to bounce as you two move in sync, Rafe doing deep but slow thrusts. His other hand is firming holding your waist but it travels up to grope your right breast, squeezing it hard.

Strings of moans are filling the room, and you momentarily forget the audience and cameras on you as all you can focus on is Rafe’s cock penetrating you hard.

He’s so deep.. i-i can’t think straight- it’s too much..

i’m so close- no wonder he’s so popular..

Rafe pulls away from your neck to use both hands to hold your hips firmly, his own picking up the pace as he begins to fuck you fast, the wet juices squelching each time your skin makes contact.

His hand goes down and his finger flicks your clit and it’s starting to send you over the edge. “Rafe..” Whimpers escape you as you dip your head down, clenching your fists on the countertop tightly.

“R-Rafe, fuck, you’re so deep.. i-i’m gonna cum-“

Rafe just smirks as he rubs your clit further, continuously thrusting you harder and faster until he feels a gush over your release and he pulls out, watching as your pretty glistening pussy squirts all over the floor.

“Fuck.” He bites his lip at the sight as he feels his own building up, and he spins you around while you’re panting. “Get on your knees,”

You fall to your knees to his command, and watch as he strokes himself fast and seconds later, his cum spurts its white salty liquid over your face, painting it like a canvas.

He pants heavily, catching his breath while you do the same, eyes fluttered shut at the warm liquid drips down.

“And cut! That was great, now get cleaned up you two!”

“You alright, [Name]?”

Still on the ground, you barely register a voice is talking to you while you appear dazed and confused.

Rafe has some skin-sensitive wipes in his hands, gently rubbing your face to wipe off any of his fluids before carefully helping you to your feet. “Did I go too rough on you?”

“I’m alright, thanks..” You whisper, feeling the exhaustion take over you. You lean onto Rafe, who holds you securely against his chest. “If it’s any consolation, today was fuckin’ amazing..” He chuckles lightly as he presses a tender kiss to your temple before guiding you to the couch where you can rest for a bit.

“Yeah?.. I think i understand why so many women gush over you after working with you.” You giggle weakly, sending an appreciative look when he sets you down gently, placing a blanket over you. He also chuckles lightly. “Yeah, but I think i’d like to work with you again, sometime soon. Maybe we can talk about our next filming together over dinner?”

Your stomach feels as though butterflies are doing flips inside you at the assumption of his words. “Are you asking me out, Rafe Cameron?”

Rafe merely shares a wink before pecking your forehead and getting up. “I’ll let you figure that out. Meanwhile, I’ll head to your room and draw you a bath to clean up.”

He takes your hand to press a soft kiss to the back of it before smiling your way and then turning to leave. Maybe he wasn’t acting the whole time.

“.. Rafe Cameron just asked me out..”

Best filming job ever.

a/n: hello all, hope you enjoyed! :) merry christmas. i shall have the first post of my camgirl series out soon!! <3

i’m sorry if this seems like such a rushed abrupt ending but i wanted to finish this in time for christmas :)

pt. 2 with JJ Maybank !!

[illyrianbitch]

Are We Still Friends? — Part Four

Pairing: Reader x Azriel

Summary: You navigate the aftermath of your confrontation. Azriel takes his first steps toward making things right.

Warnings: brief mentions of injury, bruises, and physical fighting. nyx being a cute baby. some fun introspection. reader is tired and overwhelmed. az is honest and open (hallelujah)

Word Count: 7k+

Part Three | Series Masterlist | Part Five

✹ ✶ 𖧷 ✶✹ 

Rhys was trying to be serious. 

He truly, truly was. 

From behind his polished desk, he looked every inch the High Lord—back straight, jaw tight, fingers drumming against the wood. His mouth opened, closed, then opened again, as though he couldn’t decide where to start.

You shifted in your seat, your body aching in strange places from the fight. The cut on your cheek throbbed and the bruising across your knuckles made every twitch of your fingers tender. But none of it compared to the strain in your cheeks—from holding back a laugh.

Feyre was perched on the arm of a chair beside you, Nyx cradled in her arms, his tiny fingers gripping the fabric of her flowy blouse. She wasn’t looking at you—refusing to, actually. Her gaze was locked firmly on her son, her lips pressed together in a trembling line, but you could see the corners twitching with suppressed amusement. You kept your gaze on her, waiting until the burn of your stare would render too hot for her to ignore. 

It didn’t take long.

Feyre’s resolve crumbled as soon as her eyes met yours. She let out a laugh—sharp and bright and loud in the too-quiet room.

Rhys’s head snapped up. “Feyre, please. Not you too.”

Not you too. Morrigan had found the situation just as amusing. 

Her laughter only grew, and Nyx joined in, making incomprehensible happy gurgles in response to his mother’s amusement. 

“I’m sorry,” she said, though she didn’t sound sorry at all. 

She passed Nyx to your open, offering arms, and crossed the room, wrapping her arms around Rhys’s neck. Her cheek brushed against his as she murmured—loud enough for you to hear, “You have to admit it’s funny.”

Rhys groaned, glancing at you. He opened his mouth, probably to protest, but you cut in, your voice laced with mock sternness as you bit back a smile. “Yeah, Rhys. You have to.”

“I don’t have to do anything,” he replied, fixing you with a look. “It is not funny.”

You gasped dramatically, adjusting Nyx in your lap and covering his tiny,pointed ears. “Don’t teach your son it’s okay to lie.”

Another groan. A hand dragged down his face, but his lips twitched as though fighting a losing battle. Finally, with a resigned shake of his head, he muttered, “Alright. Fine. It’s funny. But—

His words faltered. 

“I am sorry,” you offered, filling the silence. You raised your free hand solemnly. “I lost my cool. That’s my bad. But in my defense, she really had it coming.”

Rhys casted a look at Feyre, who was leaning against the desk now, a smile still tugging at her lips. He shook his head again, sighing. “Maybe so,” he conceded, “But I can’t have our court’s emissary beating one of our citizens in broad daylight. It’s not a great look.”

“It wasn’t broad daylight,” you corrected, your attention shifting to Nyx as you untangled your hair from his iron grip, grimacing as the motion pulled at your scalp. “The sun was setting by the time we were done.”

Feyre let out another laugh, the sound powerful enough to pull a snort from her. 

“And,” you added, “It was, at most, semi-private.”

“Unbelievable,” Rhys muttered, though there was no real heat in it.

Nyx babbled again, his chubby hand reaching for your hair once more. 

“Okay, alright,” you said, straightening in your chair. The ache in your body flared as you moved, but you ignored it, your focus on Rhys. “You’re right, Rhys. I have a title and an image to uphold. I should’ve acted better. Tell me how to fix it, and I will.”

Rhys’s gaze lingered on you, as if the longer he stared at you, the easier words would come. Then he leaned back in his chair, his attention flicking to Feyre. They were in each other’s minds, you realized, talking in that way only they could. You could pick up the signs now, even subtle—a faint twitch of her lips, the softening in his gaze, even the rhythm of their blinks syncing up. 

Finally, Rhys looked back at you, then down at Nyx, who was still babbling in your lap. When his gaze returned to yours, there was a thread of warmth beneath his voice. “You’re the most, objectively, rational of us all. If you say there was reasoning, then I believe you.”

You gave him a grateful smile.

“We just have to prepare for some damage control,” Feyre said. “It’s not exactly comforting for our citizens to see three of their highest-ranking officials fighting in the streets.”

“Three?” You frowned. “What—”

You were cut off as the door creaked open. All three of you turned as Mor stepped in, a large grin on her red painted lips. She was holding something small in her hand, and when she held it up, the light caught on the all-too-familiar jewelry.

“Don’t forget. She also found these,” Mor sang as she entered fully. She tossed two bracelets into the air, catching both effortlessly before holding them up again for emphasis. “So, I think that’s enough for a pardon.”

Rhys stood, crossing the room in a few long strides as Feyre followed. He took one of the bracelets from Mor, inspecting it carefully.

“What did you find?”

“What Y/n heard was right,” Mor said, rolling the other bracelet between her fingers. “It’s a simple listening charm. Very basic.”

Rhysand hummed. “And how does it work exactly?”

“It’s an anchored spell.”

“What does that mean?” Feyre asked, frowning. “An anchor?” 

“It means the spell needs an anchor to function—a tether to keep it active and contained. Like a balloon tied to a string.” Rhys explained, his tone turning clinical. “It’s simple magic. The charm was designed to spy on whoever it was bound to.”

“And it was bound to who? Az?”

”Actually,” Mor said. She nodded towards you. “It was bound to Y/n.”

You weren’t paying full attention, not as you played a game of tug-of-war with Nyx and a strand of your hair. When the words finally hit you, you blinked, glancing between Mor and the bracelet in her hand. “What? On me?”

Mor nodded once more as Rhysand said, “Interesting.” 

”And this was in Azriels room?” Feyre asked, looking over at you. 

“One of them,” you confirmed. “The other Selene was wearing.”

Feyre’s gaze flicked to the cut across your cheek. “So she put it in Azriel’s room, but bound it to you?”

“No one tends to go into Az’s room.” Rhys frowned. “So she was only interested in conversations you were a part of.”

Of course. A bitter laugh bubbled up, but you clenched your jaw, forcing it down. You reminded yourself of what you’d seen earlier— the insecurity, rather than the malice you’d anticipated. Still, a certain annoyance lingered. Was her relationship with Azriel so fragile that she couldn’t talk to him? Were you so unapproachable that she couldn’t come to you? Instead, she planted a charm. To spy. 

”Can I see it?” You asked. 

Mor stepped forward, holding it out, and Nyx reached for it first, his tiny fingers desperately grasping at the shiny surface.

“This isn’t for you, buddy,” Mor cooed, crouching slightly. “This is Aunt Y/n’s special bracelet from her secret admirer.”

You shot her a flat look. “Secret admirer, my ass.”

Mor grinned, but her gaze flicked over you briefly, her teasing dimmed by something else—concern, maybe. Feyre stepped forward, lifting Nyx from your lap as you examined the bracelet.

“So what do we do with it now?” You glanced up at Mor.

“I can pay Helion a visit. Break the charm.” 

“Alright,” Rhys said, the word accompanied by a considering hum. “But first, let me talk to Selene and Runa—Runa was the other one, right?”

Hearing her name sent a wave of irritation coursing through you. Your grip on the bracelet tightened instinctively as you nodded, the cool metal digging into your palm. You held it out for Mor to take, watching as she then took the second one back from Rhys. He studied you for a moment, his gaze drifting to your clenched fists.

“You’re just too great,” He said with a small grin. It was very father-like in its presentation, like he was trying to cheer up a sad child. “It’s intimidating.”

You rolled your eyes, but his attempt worked— the easy cadence chipping away at the tension in your shoulders, managing to coax a reluctant smile to your lips. “So I’ve been told.”

Your attention shifted to Feyre as she rocked Nyx gently in her arms. His soft breaths had already settled into the rhythm of sleep, and something in you softened at the sight. Your smile deepened, this time warmer, more genuine. Feyre caught your gaze, then glanced at her mate.

“It’s his bedtime,” she murmured, her attention returning to you. “And maybe you could use some rest too.”

You opened your mouth to argue, but Mor cut you off, her hand already brushing against your arm. “Let’s get you cleaned up,” she said softly, though there was no room for argument in her tone.

“I’m fine,” you tried to insist, but she gave you a look, leading you out of Rhysand’s office. You gave both him and Feyre a quick goodbye. 

“Walk or winnow?” Mor asked once you were in the hall, tilting her head.

You thought it over for a brief moment. “Winnow,” you replied.

She nodded in agreement, the corners of her lips curving upwards. “Probably for the best,” she said, “Wouldn’t want you to find another citizen to fight on the way home.”

You moved to swat at her arm in mock indignation, but she was already gone, her laughter echoing faintly as she winnowed away. 

✹ ✶ 𖧷 ✶✹ 

Mor was humming a small tune as she led you to your bedroom. She had a few more items in her hand since the last time you saw her, only a few moments prior.

“Sit,” she instructed, nodding towards your bed. Without waiting for a response, she pulled your chair from the small desk, its legs scraping sharply against the floor. Usually, you might've winced at the sound, but tonight it barely registered. You were too tired, too lost in your own thoughts to be fully aware of your surroundings. 

You lowered yourself onto the edge of your bed, hands folded in your lap, watching as Mor set her haul on your bedside table: a first-aid healers kit and a small jar with a golden lid, the faint scent of herbs already wafting from it.

“Whats that?” you asked, motioning towards it as Mor sat down.

“I stopped by Majda’s earlier,” Mor replied, grabbing the jar and offering it to you. 

You gingerly took it, running your fingers along the small glass. A healing balm, you gathered from the label, crafted and spelled to sooth the tenderness of injuries.  “You didn’t have to do that.”

“Of course I did,” she replied, fixing you with a look. She held her hand out in a silent request, and you granted it, placing the jar back in her soft palm.  “I ran into Adrin while I was there, too.”

“Oh?”

“Mhm. I think he has a crush.” 

Your brows furrowed. “On you?”

“No,” Mor laughed. “On you.” She twisted the lid off, the scent growing stronger, fresher. “This was practically free when I mentioned your name. He says hello, by the way.”

You rolled your eyes at the tone of her voice, at the small quirk in her lip.  “How generous of him.”

Adrin was one of Madja’s recent apprentices, a male from the Dawn Court. Over the past year, you’d developed a sort of friendship with him—inevitable, given how often you stopped by Madja’s for elixirs, balms, or to request healing for one of your family members. Adrin was sweet in a way that stood out, especially for someone of his stature and wealth. Humble, easy to talk to. You’d always enjoyed your small conversations with him, none of which had ever felt particularly flirtatious. 

But Mor liked to do this—tease you about romantic prospects where there were none.

“He seemed very sad to hear you were hurt,” she teased, dipping her fingers into the balm. “Here. Give me your hands.”

Reluctantly, you stretched out your hands, knuckles bruised and raw. She took them, her touch gentle as she worked the balm into your skin. It stung at first, then cooled, easing the ache. 

“He’s cute,” Mor said lightly, noting your silence.  “You should consider it.”

“Mhm,” you replied, not really listening. “Maybe.”

Mor glanced up at you, her hands pausing briefly before she resumed. “What are you thinking about?”

You shrugged and stared down at your hands, tracing the patterns of Mor’s thumbs as she smoothed over the worst of the bruising. “I don’t know. The whole thing, I guess.”

“I can’t believe you didn’t just beat them both.”

A small laugh slipped from you, unexpected. You were quite proud of how diplomatic you’d managed to be given the circumstances— though, you were sure diplomatic wasn’t the word Runa would use.

“I think,” you began, “I just figured it wasn’t worth it. At least with Selene, it wasn’t personal. There’s nothing I could’ve said to her that’d be worse than what I imagine she already tells herself. Runa just… said the wrong thing at the wrong time.”

Mor nodded with an amused smile, tilting your chin up with a finger so she could dab the balm along your jaw. On a hit you hadn’t even noticed until it started throbbing an hour later.

“Still. A listening charm is kind of insane,” she said. Her tone was measured, but you caught the edge of anger beneath it. “Can you imagine what else she could’ve heard?”

Your chest tightened. You nodded. Although not to the extent you might usually have, you had thought about it—the implications of the bracelet, the act Selene had committed, the idea Runa had planted. It was almost laughable. Your court was condemned for its supposed cruelty, led by a High Lord as infamous as Rhysand, yet citizens still felt emboldened enough to pull stunts like this. In any other court, Selene and Runa would’ve faced very different—more permanent—consequences.

“I don’t want to think about it too much,” you replied after a moment. “I’ll just get angry, and I’m kind of over that. It’s exhausting.”

“You’re better than me,” Mor muttered.

“Not really. I’m just tired.” You said simply. “Selene did a bad thing. She’s lucky it didn’t cause a serious disaster. I don’t feel the need to play the Mother’s role. Rhys will deal with her.”

Mor sat back, a faint grin tugging at her lips. “And in the meantime, I get pretty jewelry.”

You raised a brow. 

“What?” Her grin widened. “Like we told Rhys, it’s only a basic listening spell. If I’m in possession of both charms, and I’m not talking to you, then no one’s hearing anything.”

“And if you lose one?”

She raised an eyebrow, slowly twisting the cap back onto the jar. “I won’t,” she replied simply. And you knew that was the end of the conversation. Mor guided your head to the side, leaning in to inspect the cut across your cheek.

“That bitch got you good, though,” Mor muttered. She touched it gently, and you grimaced. “All this from that bracelet?”

“It was chunky,” you replied dryly. “And I think Runa split it open much further.”

Mor scowled. “If I see her, she's as good as d—”

“Mor.”

She sighed dramatically. “At least tell me you got her good.”

You gave her a look and her grin widened. “Gods, I love you,” she said, shaking her head. “You might be the most terrifying one of us all when you’re angry.”

A smile tugged at your lips, the faint pull of it brushing against the ache in your cheek. The sound of a laugh started to rise in your chest when a low voice cut through the moment.

“I would agree.”

You jumped, and your head snapped toward the doorway— where Azriel now stood. 

Your chest tightened at the sight of him, the moment’s levity collapsing under his presence. Instinctively, your eyes ran over him, taking in every detail. He looked tense, wings drawn in tight to his back, his posture stiff. Shadows hung close to him, unnervingly still. Disheveled, too—his hair was a mess and faint bruises bloomed along his face. His hands were hidden by his shadows, but you’d bet they bore the same marks as yours. Three officials, Feyre had said. You now knew the second. 

He cleared his throat. “I’m sorry to interrupt.”

Mor snickered beside you, drawing your attention just as her brows lifted in amusement. She turned away from him and faced you instead. “You hear that, Y/n? He’s sorry.”

You raised your own brows, gaze flicking back to him. “So those words do exist in your vocabulary.”

The bite didn’t feel as satisfying as it should have. It felt hollow, old. Azriel’s jaw tightened, his chest rising as he drew in a measured breath. After a moment, he stepped forward. His gaze lingered on you for another moment before he turned to Mor.

“May we have a moment alone?”

Mor’s eyes narrowed, the sharpness in her gaze dragging over him like a knife. She didn’t answer right away, looking back to you instead, searching your face for permission. Despite yourself, you gave her a small nod.

Her displeasure showed in the faint widening of her eyes, but she stood anyway, brushing her hand against yours in passing. Her touch was soft, careful not to press too hard against the bruises. “Love you,” she murmured. “Let me know if you need anything else tonight.”

You gave her a small smile, nodding again as she walked past Azriel. His shadows recoiled from her, drawing a dark outline along his arm. She casted one last glare over her shoulder.

“Idiot,” she muttered, loud enough for both of you to hear. Then she was gone.

The silence she left behind felt suffocating, a heavy thing that settled over the room. You avoided Azriel’s gaze, focusing instead on the healer’s kit sitting on the bedside table. You reached for it, but Azriel held up a hand to stop you.

“I can do it myself,” you said. 

“I know,” Az replied softly. “But let me. Please.”

You hesitated. He looked troubled, guilt heavy in his expression, but you couldn’t bring yourself to care. The conversation had been inevitable, long overdue. Might as well get it over with while he tended to the cut on your cheek.

Besides, you were too exhausted to care. 

“Fine.”

Azriel gave you a small, unsure smile—grateful, almost. He disappeared to the bathroom, and when he returned, he sat with a wet rag in hand.

You tried to hold on to your anger, to avoid his eyes, but your resolve began to falter the moment his shadows began to twist around your arms. They moved languidly, curling up your wrists and brushing your fingers as you played with your hands in your lap. You focused on them instead of him— on their quiet presence, the personality in them that so few ever noticed. You’d missed the way they felt like him.

Azriel began unpacking the kit—clean cloths, antiseptic. The smell made your nose scrunch. You took in the bruising on his face—on his cheek, a split near his eyebrow, even on his lip. Strange, strategically unplaced.

“What happened to you?” you asked before you could stop yourself.

“Cassian happened.”

And there it was— the third official. You wanted to probe for more details, were even tempted to make a joke out of his current appearance, but your irritation held you back. You stayed silent as he cleaned the wound, as he dried it. When he soaked another cloth with antiseptic, he looked at you.

“I owe you a big, proper apology.” 

You didn’t look at him, even as his words pulled at you. “Yeah.”

He paused— like he was thinking, like he was ashamed— and took a deep breath before he said, “Many, actually.”

You didn’t respond. You just nodded, watching him from the corner of your eye. When the cloth touched your cheek, you winced. He grimaced, eyebrows furrowing in apology.

“Sorry,” he murmured. 

Another pause. 

“You were right,” he said, his focus staying on your cheek. “And I should have listened to you.”

This time, the pull of his voice was strong enough to draw your attention. As he leaned closer to begin cleaning the cut, you studied his face—the sharp line of his jaw, the crease in his brow as he worked with precision. 

“I’m always right,” you muttered, and the words had more mirth than you’d expected. You supposed that was natural with Azriel, an instinct of sorts. Even when you were unhappy with him. “You’re going to have to be specific.”

Something softened in his expression—just for a second. But you saw it. You could’ve sworn you saw the faintest hint of a smile tug at his lips, heard a soft breath of amusement. His molten eyes met yours briefly.

“You were right about Selene.”

Your chest tightened. You didn’t know why, but his gaze burned. You couldn’t hold it for long and looked back down at your hands, letting the shadows weave between your fingers. You wondered what information Az knew— wondered who told him. If it was Mor who had talked to Cassian, if it was Cassian who then, in turn, had given Azriel the whole story. Had they fought beforehand? What for?

“I broke up with her,” Azriel added. “When I heard about what happened.”

You looked up, but Az’s gaze was no longer on you. “You did?”

He nodded. You tracked the bob in his throat as he swallowed. 

“There’s no coming back from what she did.”

Azriel set the cloth aside, carefully wiping away the excess antiseptic. He seemed unnervingly calm for the situation—for the invasion of privacy from someone he’d been intimate with. You’d expected something more. Anger like you’d seen with Eris, confrontation like he’d shown Lucien. But, instead, he was gentle. Maybe it should’ve bothered you, that he seemed so unphased at your current state. It didn’t. If anything, you were grateful. You would’ve been too tired to deal with anything else. 

You studied him closely. This side of him—tender, unguarded—wasn’t a side he let many see.

Your thoughts wandered back to Selene. It made sense, in a pathetic, strange way, why she might have done what she did. If she’d seen this side of him, this kindness, this care... how could she not have wanted to protect it? How could she not have gone to extremes to keep it?

You thought about it for a moment. Came to the realization that the love Azriel offered was probably worthy of madness.

“Because she spied on you?” 

It was a stupid question. But the urge to ask had persisted, so you voiced it anyway. Azriel stilled, his hand pausing mid-motion. Slowly, he turned to look at you.

“No,” he said, his voice softer. “Because she hurt you.”

His words landed with a force that sent your thoughts spiraling.

“Although,” Azriel added quickly, “The spying was definitely a dealbreaker.”

He was making a joke, you realized. Or a small attempt at one. And somehow, it settled something restless in your chest.

“She didn’t mean to,” you heard yourself say before you could stop it. 

The moment the words left your mouth, you cursed yourself. What the hell were you doing? You had no obligation. No reason. It was counterproductive, if anything. Rhys was bringing her in. You had every right to trash her, right here, to Azriel himself. To tell him over and over that you told him so.

But you didn’t. Maybe it was because she’d mattered to him—enough for him to trust her despite the flaws that had undone her. Even if that truth made your chest ache, you wanted him to make his decision with all the facts.

Your care for Azriel wasn’t something led by your pride.

“Selene didn’t mean to hurt me,” you said again, more certain this time. “It was an accident.”

His eyes softened as he observed you. You swallowed and shrugged. “Runa was the one who actually did.”

“It doesn’t matter,” Azriel said. “You were in that situation because of Selene.”

A beat.

“Because of me.”

The air between you thickened. You tried to focus on anything else, anything but the way your chest tightened, the way your heart thudded faster than it should. But you couldn’t. Your eyes stayed locked with his.

You thought about the past week, how something had shifted between you. The distance that had grown, how long it had taken him to reach out.  Azriel was someone who didn’t apologize easily. You knew that. But it hurt in ways you didn’t expect because you’d always thought you were different. That your friendship, your bond, was worth the discomfort. 

You thought he’d make it right. That he wouldn't have let it fester for as long as he did, wouldn’t have felt comfortable leaving you simmering in your hurt. 

“Az?”

The name escaped your lips unguarded, and his face softened at the sound of it. His wings shifted too, just slightly, like tension bleeding out. You hadn’t said his name like that—without anger, without bitterness—for days.

“Yeah?”

“Why didn’t you actually apologize earlier?”

Azriel’s jaw tightened, and his gaze flicked down, as if the answer was there, somewhere in the floor. “I—I didn’t know how.”

You let out a breath—annoyance, defeat, something too messy to untangle. “It’s actually really easy,” you muttered. “You just open your mouth and say the words ‘I’m sorry for being a dick.’”

There was a soft shuffle as Azriel leaned forward, placing his elbows on his knees. He tilted his head, trying to meet your averted gaze.

“Y/n,” he said softly. “I’m sorry for being a dick.”

You let the words settle for a moment before sitting up straighter. Met his eyes once more. You raised a brow, unimpressed. “A bit late, don’t you think?”

Azriel didn’t move, his eyes meeting yours steadily. He was closer now—close enough that you could almost feel his presence like a tangible, heavy thing. His shadows stirred, curling around your fingers, then shifting toward his hand. They tangled between you both, like they were tying you together, threading through the space that separated you.

“It is,” Azriel said. He looked down the second his words hit the open air. It reminded you of repentance, like a sinner confessing to a priestess. His hands rubbed together before he clasped them into a fist, looking up again.

Even then, his thumbs kept moving, brushing over each other in a way that gave him away. He was nervous.

“I messed up,” he said. “I knew I did the minute I repeated what Selene told me. But I’d messed up so badly that I felt like an apology needed to be big enough to make up for it. I couldn’t think of anything.” He took a shallow breath. “I—I was embarrassed.”

You frowned.  For Azriel, who stood in front of you, unwavering in the face of so many enemies, embarrassment seemed almost foreign.

“Embarrassed?”

“Yes.” His voice was quiet as he admitted it.

“What could you possibly have to be embarrassed about?”

Azriel’s face shifted, his eyes looking almost vulnerable, wide open, like you could see everything. Even his shadows slowed to a faint crawl. They seemed to be waiting for something. You weren’t sure what.

“That you were right. I was changing. For her. And I did it on my own.”

“What?” You barely breathed out, confused. “Why?”

“I just…” He hesitated, his eyes lowering. “I thought it might be for the better. That maybe this relationship, maybe Selene, could mold me into something else, something more…” He trailed off.

“More what?”

“Something—someone, more easy to love.”

Your breath faltered, and for a second, everything froze— like the sheer sadness in his voice was enough to freeze time. And then you were flooded with emotions, each different from the one that came before. Confusion. Anger. Pity. Heartbreak. You felt a deep, hollow ache at the idea that he truly believed he needed to change to be loved. 

For the first time, you weren’t sure what the right thing to say was. If there was one at all. All you could do, in the most genuine tone you could muster, was say, “That’s the stupidest thing I’ve ever heard.”

Azriel’s gaze faltered, his expression shifting as though he wasn’t quite sure how to process your reaction. You glanced at his hands, pushing the rush of emotions back, then met his eyes again.

“You should never feel like you need to change. Not like that.”

For a moment, he didn’t say anything, but his eyes softened, and you found yourself focusing on the crease between his brows. It made him look so tender. So young.

Finally, he spoke again. “I was having a bad day that night you came to talk to me. I didn’t realize how I’d hurt you. I thought I just pissed you off, that you were angry.”

“Well, you did piss me off,” you said, your anger bubbling up once more. His expression faltered slightly at that, but you continued, “I’m still angry. You were dismissive. You made me feel selfish, like I didn’t have the right to care about you.”

The words caught in your throat, threatening to stick, but you pushed them out. You’d spent centuries enduring criticism from males in Prythian politics—males who dismissed your input no matter how educated or experienced you were. You knew how to let their opinions roll off your back, not to let them settle. But you never thought Azriel would be the one to hurt you. Make you feel silly. Stupid. Small.

Azriel’s jaw tightened, and his eyes darted away as if he was trying to find the right words. “It was all so stupid. I can’t believe I entertained her ideas—that I let my desire to be needed make me accuse you of having ulterior motives when you were just being a good friend.”

A good friend.

That was exactly what you were trying to be—and yet, the word hurt you. It made you want to wince like you had when Azriel pressed that rag to your cut. You thought back, unwanted, to Selene’s words, and your chest tightened even more. 

Was it possible for the room to be losing air? Maybe that would explain the stupid decisions you’d been making. The thoughts you could feel in the back of your mind. A lack of oxygen to your brain.

“So why did you believe her?” you asked quietly. Your voice sounded more tired now. 

“I don’t know,” he admitted after a long pause. “It doesn’t change what I did. It was cruel. It belittled you. And I’m sorry.”

You stared at him, at the set of his shoulders, the faint downturn of his mouth. He was sincere—you could feel it in every word, in the way his eyes stayed fixed on you, like nothing else existed in the room. You didn’t think you’d ever had someone apologize like this before, so open and raw.

And yet, something inside you still simmered. The anger hadn’t disappeared. Not yet.

“Thank you,” you murmured, “For apologizing.”

Azriel didn’t move. He kept looking at you, really looking at you, and you felt pinned beneath the weight of his gaze. His eyes had more green than Cassian’s. It wasn’t something you usually noticed—how the colors shifted in the light, how clear and startling they seemed up close. Now, though, you couldn’t seem to stop noticing, like every detail of him was suddenly magnified.

You wanted to stay angry. You deserved to. He’d hurt you, and that kind of hurt didn’t just disappear because he finally decided to show up and say the right things. But then his gaze held yours a little too long, his voice a little too raw, and that tightrope you’d built for yourself began to fray.  A sharp sting of guilt came, and you couldn’t shake it—couldn’t shake the growing realization that maybe you didn’t want to be angry at him. Maybe it wasn’t even anger anymore.

You cleared your throat as Azriel shifted his attention back to the kit, his shadows curling and shifting behind him. He grabbed a few butterfly bandages, his voice quiet when he spoke.

“You’re better to me than I deserve,” he said, almost to himself. “I think I convinced myself that it was a matter of time until the ball dropped—until you realized I wasn’t worth this friendship. I thought I’d finally reached that point. I almost just laid down and accepted it.”

You frowned at his words. 

Azriel always carried that shadow of self-loathing like a second skin, like he couldn’t believe anyone could see him as more than his darkest thoughts. As much as you wanted to heal him, to assure him that none of it was true, you knew better. It hurt to know that, after everything, he still didn’t believe it. Because, the truth was, Azriel wasn’t hard to love. It wasn’t hard to support him, to be his friend. He had his moments, as anyone did, but he was always there. Which, you supposed, is why the way he treated you hurt in such a deep, unique way.

The thought that he’d believed, deep down, that your friendship—your loyalty—could be so easily withdrawn, made something inside you ache. Made you sad. Angry. 

“I take back what I said earlier,” you murmured. “That is the stupidest thing I’ve ever heard.”

Azriel’s lips twitched as he searched your face for any hint of a joke. His shadows perched on the apex of his wings, watching you both. Then, when his lips curled, just slightly, they began to move once more. 

“I have my moments,” Azriel said, a half-smile playing at the corner of his lips. He glanced at you, checking if it landed.  “Maybe one too many head injuries is getting to me.”

“Maybe,” you said, the hint of a smile brushing your lips. “In that case, we should keep an eye on Cassian.”

Azriel’s breath escaped in a quiet, almost relieved laugh.  He carefully removed the butterfly bandages from their small packs, the silence settling around you once more. But the air felt heavy, like there was something unspoken hanging between you. Like you needed to say something to rid yourself of the pressure in your chest. 

“You can’t just lay down and accept it, Az,” you said, your voice firm. His eyes snapped to yours. “That’s not what friendship is. Not ours.”

Azriel nodded, his expression softening. “I know. I’ll do better.” 

You smiled faintly, nodding back. Watching as he turned his attention back to the bandages on your cheek, you took a slow breath. His scent washed over you as he leaned in, familiar and warm. For a moment, you almost let yourself close your eyes, just to breathe him in further, to let his scent linger. Had it always been like this? Or had Selene’s words made you overanalyze everything?

“I was shocked when Cassian told me what happened. I can’t believe that while I was busy kicking myself for not doing anything, you were trying to talk to Selene. Trying to be kind. Do you realize how crazy that is?”

His words weren’t disbelief—they were awe. As if he couldn’t comprehend why you’d chosen the harder path, the path of peace. You could barely believe it yourself, sitting with a scratched-up face and a mind full of unwanted revelations. But in the end, it had been simple. 

You’d done it for Azriel. 

You’d found sympathy for her because of Azriel. You’d set aside your anger, your pettiness, because you valued your relationship with Azriel more. Even after everything, after the way he’d treated you, you still believed in him. Believed in his ability to know what he wanted.

“Your happiness was worth it,” you said finally. “I didn’t want to be the one to stand in the way of it. To make things hard.”

Azriel stopped at that, his gaze locking onto yours with an intensity that made you feel exposed in a way you’d never felt before with him. You shrugged it off, trying to play it cool, and added with a dry chuckle, “Also, I figured if I did the noble thing, I’d get to hold it over you for a few centuries.”

Azriel laughed—a genuine, rumbling sound. His shadows fluttered around him. “Yeah, well, you can. More than a few centuries, actually, because you came out with some battle scars.”

You almost spoke again, but the breath left your lungs as you felt his fingers gently press the butterfly bandages to your skin. It was almost funny to think about how angry you’d been—rightfully so. But now, with the feel of his hands on you, it all began to ease. A specific sense of healing, like the betrayal you’d felt—at least in part—was being mended. That Azriel tending to you now, with the soft touch he so rarely granted, proved that he didn’t mean to hurt you. That he did care. And maybe you could give him a little grace for being a flawed male.

When Azriel turned back to the kit, you touched your cheek, feeling the cut deeper than you expected. You hadn’t realized how long it was. Mor’s earlier reaction made more sense now.

Azriel glanced at the wound, then back at you, brow furrowing. “Is it okay?”

You nodded slowly, a soft breath escaping as you winced slightly. “Yeah, just tender. Thank you.”

He nodded in acknowledgment and moved to place the last bandage. And then, almost too quietly, he murmured, “I’m sorry I hurt you. I really am.”

“I know.” You hesitated before adding, “But you’re going to have to make it up to me. You know that, right? This wasn’t enough.”

Azriel steadied his gaze on you, leaning back to face you fully. Suddenly, you weren’t sure if anyone had ever looked at you properly. Not like this. Not as he said, “I will. I promise. In ways that are better than some baked goods.”

“Well… I wouldn’t mind some croissants. They looked good.”

Azriel chuckled. “Oh really?”

Soft tendrils of his shadows weaved around you as you nodded, biting back a smile at the tone of his voice. Something so lively. So Azriel. Although you were used to them, you resisted the urge to shiver as his shadows threaded through the ends of your hair. 

“That’s odd,” he said. “I seem to recall them looking untouched. Some even squished.”

The memory of how you’d grabbed the pastry in frustration, squeezing it in your hand, brought a small smirk to your face. You shrugged a little. “I was pissed. I couldn’t give in.”

“In that case, I’ll buy out the whole bakery.”

You rolled your eyes, but the hint of a smile was still there. It was probably obvious to Azriel.  “The Spymaster supporting local businesses by single-handedly buying out a local bakery. How noble.”

He smiled at that, his expression lighter now—boyish, amused. But his words were sincere. “Whatever you need me to do. I’ll do it.”

“And if I told you to swim naked in the Sidra at night, when it’s cold and snowy?”

“I’d ask Rhysand to make an order for all the children to stay inside.”

You laughed at the thought, and the atmosphere shifted. For the first time in a while, it felt like the world had stopped turning its back on you. The anger, the grudge you’d been cradling like a newborn babe, didn’t feel so heavy now. 

Azriel stood, folding the bandages and packing away the medical supplies, and you found yourself watching him without meaning to once more. You couldn’t help but notice how effortlessly… beautiful he was. There was something in the angle of his jaw, the way the light caught his features that made your breath suddenly catch. He was always handsome, of course, but this was different. 

A sudden wave of curiosity bubbled up inside you. Before you could second-guess yourself, you spoke.  You’d never noticed the sharpness of his eyes, the intensity in them, the way his wings twitched when his shadows curled against them.

“Can I ask you something?” 

He paused, looking down at you with that soft gaze. “Always.”

“Why did you want to change into someone more loveable? Why stay with Selene?”

Azriel’s eyes flickered away, his gaze dropping to the floor. “I… I think I was jealous.”

“Jealous?”

Azriel nodded. Something sad washed through him, made him blink, made his wings fall an inch closer to the ground. “Everyone around us is finding love. They’re starting new lives.”

Something sharp jabbed at you, a bitter feeling you didn’t quite understand. Was there something wrong with you for not feeling the same need to fall in love?

“I’m not,” you said. 

The expression that took over Azriel’s face was one you couldn’t describe, but there was a new kind of weariness in it. His lips parted as though to say something else, but instead, he simply shook his head with a small, wistful smile. “It’s only a matter of time, Y/n.”

You blinked. “What does that mean?”

“It means you’re you. You’re amazing. It’s only a matter of time until you fall for one of your many suitors.”

You furrowed your brow, a bitter taste now settling on your tongue. You didn’t respond— didn’t know how to.

Azriel’s eyes darkened for a brief moment, his jaw tightening, but then his face softened. He exhaled slowly. When he spoke, his voice was quieter than before. “I didn’t think I could handle being alone when you moved on, too.”

The way he said it, the weight of it, made something ache inside you, like a deep hollow was opening up in your chest. You swallowed hard, wishing for something—anything—to ease the growing pressure behind your ribcage.

You wanted him to tell you more, to say something that would make sense of all this. But you didn’t know how to ask for that, didn’t even know what you wanted him to say. 

“Because you don’t want to be the last one standing?”

The silence that followed was almost suffocating. Azriel’s shadows seemed to quiet around you both.

Then, he gave you a half-smile—sad, lopsided, but somehow more real than anything he’d shown you in a long time. Not for months. Not since he began dating Selene. 

“Something like that.”

Before you could dwell on his words, on why they made you feel sad, disappointed even, Azriel finished packing up the kit and turned toward you.

“All done,” he said.

You blinked, pulled out of your thoughts, and nodded. “Oh. Cool. Thank you.”

You looked down at your hands, your fingers brushing over the growing bruises on your knuckles. Your hair fell forward, partially hiding your face, and before you could move it out of the way, one of Azriel’s shadows darted forward, tugging at the strand. You glanced up as he gently called the shadow back with a subtle motion. 

“So... how do I look?” 

Azriel's eyes flicked over you, the corner of his mouth quirking up as he reached forward, his hand brushing that same strand of hair from your face.

“Tough,” he said, slowly moving the strand back. “I think the bandages really bring out your eyes.”

And even though he’d done it a million times before, as Azriel tucked your hair behind your ear, something inside you cracked right open.

✹ ✶ 𖧷 ✶✹ 

Part Five

authors note:

tending to wounds scene!!! tending to wounds scene!! mor has both bracelets??!? az and selene are done?!?! he's being weirdly calm abt the whole thing?!?! reader is THINKINNN...

now begins the fun time of reader wanting to let az grovel (bc he has entered his groveling era) but also overthinking everything and wanting him to just....go away. also fun time of reader having to prove to everyone that despite things she may...or may not... feel, her intentions with Az were neverr driven jealousy hehe

so fun!!! i have some fun ideas guys. thank yall for reading <3 i wonder if you can guess what might happen.... there are a few hints

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[catominor]

anyway more republican art posting but. the characterization of republican art and the notions of personal appearance in that period make it so interesting to me. i think pliny said this when i was reading him talking about the ancestral imagines but he basically characterizes a 'decline' of art from the republican era to his time, essentially with art becoming less about showing the individual characteristics and personality of a person and more iconographic/about projecting things like wealth or power rather than capturing individual features. essentially he says portraits became more of a 'stereotype' which signalled what kind of person you were, rather than a portrait of your particular face. which i think, although i don't really know how right pliny was about his own time obviously, is definitely something which characterizes republican art in the cursory glance at roman art history i've taken; ie the focus on capturing idiosyncratic and individual portraits of people (even to the point of possibly exaggerating them, almost like a caricature) in order to capture almost something about their soul. i think this is why i find that era of portrait busts so alluring, and though there are also definitely imperial era ones which have the same idea of capturing an individual, the republican ones hit different imo

[nitadllyss]

The wrong pill.

Plot: Han takes a pill for his training, not realizing it’s viagra—let alone on the day he was going to see you.

Genre:smut, nsfw, Erotic Romance, PWP.

Warnings: Smut, NSFW, use of Viagra, sex under its influence, oral sex (m!receiving), no condom use, semen, penetration (m/f), praise, etc.

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

Han had been fighting hard with the staff to be able to show off his body and tattoos. For this reason, he was preparing physically with great dedication. He never skipped a day at the gym, and it was obvious how much more muscular he had gotten.

He was now getting ready to train with Changbin. They were at his house, since Han had stayed over the night before; it had been too late for him to return home. To prepare his pre-workout shake, he used Changbin's stuff.

"Where do you have the creatine?" Han asked while rummaging through the drawer where Changbin kept his supplements.

"They are the transparent capsules" Changbin answered, focused on making his own pre-workout shake.

Han took his shake followed by the corresponding pills.

Everything was going well during the training. He was really satisfied with the results he was getting. For him, gaining muscle was easier, so in a short time he could already notice a noticeable difference.

As he was training, his alarm went off to remind him to take his intra-workout pill. He was committed to getting good and fast results, so he never missed a dose of vitamins or supplements.

“Hey, Bin, do you have any intra-workout pills?” Han asked, a little worried when he realized he hadn’t brought any.

“I think there’s L-Carnitine in my bag. Check it out and take one,” Changbin said, pointing to his gym bag.

Han walked over, opened the bag, and saw a mess of pills. Changbin definitely needed to be more organized. He assumed it was one of the white capsules, so he wasn’t too careful when taking one.

About 40 minutes later, after finishing his workout, he headed home. He was excited because he would see you today. They were having a sleepover. They weren’t a couple or anything, just best friends… although Han had been in love with you forever.

As he arrived, he started to feel strange. He was sweatier than usual, and as he looked in the mirror, he noticed his neck and ears were red. He brushed it off and went to take a shower, making sure he looked good for when you arrived.

After getting ready, however, he noticed that his face was still red, his heart was racing, and most worryingly… he had an erection. And it wasn't a regular one.

He didn't understand why, but his erection was strong and persistent.

Just as he was trying to do something to disguise it, he heard a knock on the door. He felt a chill in his chest and his nervousness increased.

When he opened it, there you were, looking cute and radiant as always. But something was different. He no longer noticed how pretty your makeup or hair looked. He could only focus his attention on how your breasts stood out under the neckline of your blouse and how juicy your thighs looked under your skirt.

"Hey!" you greeted, smiling, and went over to hug him, like you always did.

"Hey, babe" he replied playfully, using the nickname he used to call you.

You smiled at him and walked into his house.

"I'm sorry if I look all dressed up, I just got back from an outing with friends. Could you lend me some comfortable clothes to sleep in?"

He felt his erection throb as he heard that. Just imagining you in his clothes was driving him crazy.

"Ah… yeah, yeah, I'll be right back," he stammered, hurrying to his room. He looked for one of his shirts and, upon returning, handed it to you.

You changed without a problem, leaving you only with the shorts that you were wearing under your skirt.

"Thanks, Ji," you said, turning around to show him how his clothes looked on you.

Was he drooling? He wasn't sure, but he was literally mesmerized by the way your breasts were poking out from under his shirt. He was going to lose control.

"Come on, let's find the movie," you said, sitting next to him on the couch and resting your head on his shoulder as he browsed through the options.

You picked a horror movie, his favorites. Han hoped it would distract him from you, but every time you freaked out and came closer, his erection throbbed harder. It had even started to hurt.

After a while, you went to the bathroom. When you came back, you froze.

Han was on the couch, rubbing the bulge in his pants, panting softly.

"Ha-Han?" you asked, approaching him cautiously. It was then that you noticed the wet spot on his clothes.

"Mmh… I'm s-sorry…" he mumbled, throwing his head back, unable to keep his hands away from his crotch.

"Han, wtf?", you said, a bit embarrassed, not fully understanding the situation.

"Please don't be mad… I don't know what's wrong with me, but it hurts so much…" he whispered with his eyes closed, wishing the earth would swallow him up.

Just then his cell phone rang. It was Changbin.

"Bro, I think you took one of my viagra pills. That, or one went missing… I hope it doesn't cause you too much trouble."

"Are you kidding me?" Han almost screamed. "Why the hell would you have that in your bag? Ahg, it would kill you!" He hung up the call, frustrated.

Now everything made sense. At least for him.

You, on the other hand, were still standing in front of him, feeling a bit uncomfortable.

Han looked up and let out a gasp as he watched you fix your eyes on his erection. His face flushed with embarrassment and he quickly placed a cushion on his lap.

"I'm so sorry..." he whispered, feeling like crying from both the shame and the pain in his pants.

"Don't worry... I'll leave so you can, uh... fix that..." you said, looking away, your cheeks flushing.

"Please... stay..." he asked almost in a plea.

You hesitated for a second, but seeing him like this, you couldn't help but feel a little sorry. And what was worse... you felt the wetness in your underwear since you noticed his bulge.

Han grunted as he felt you approach and pressed the cushion harder against himself.

“Does it hurt?” you asked, curious. You didn’t know if his gasps were from pain or pleasure.

“A lot…” he closed his eyes, rubbing himself more desperately.

You bit your lip. You hesitated for a moment before speaking.

"Would you...want me to help you?"

Han felt his breath hitch.

“You don’t have to… I don’t want you to be uncomfortable…” but his hips contradicted his words. Not to mention the way his cock thrashed around in his pants.

But instead of answering, you placed a hand on top of his and pulled the cushion off his lap.

“I want to do it,” you whispered before leaning in and devouring his lips.

You could feel him holding back in the kiss, making hesitant movements, so you went deeper, mixing your tongues and sitting on top of his lap.

He couldn't help but growl into your mouth, the firmness with which he held your hips applying pressure having that slight relief that at the same time made him thirsty for more.

They got lost in the messy kiss, Han was already more confident and in control of the situation. As he pulled away he bit your lower lip in an attempt to chase you.

"Han~" you began to move your hips in circles, enjoying how his body reacted, feeling him so firm under you.

Han was so lost, he felt very high.

He was drowning in your neck, licking and biting every trace of visible skin.

"Han wait" you pulled away from the addictive sensation of his hot and wet tongue on your skin.

"Do you want to stop?" He said a little worried and disappointed, leaving a little space.

"No, I just want to make you feel good" you smiled and gave him a chaste kiss leaving him stunned.

You climbed off his lap and knelt in front of him.

You gave his thigh a caress before pulling down his fly. Seeing the wet spot on his underwear made your mouth water. You gave his clothed cock a kiss and then a lick.

Han's hands clenching the couch, his white knuckles trying not to fuck your mouth madly.

You pulled his underwear down along with his pants to his ankles and felt the saliva pooling in your mouth.

His tanned cock with its red head very sensitive. It was shiny from the precum that bathed it excessively.

With your thumb you touched the slit of his head probing a little. You smiled at the gasps from him.

"Ahh~ Y/N don't play" he clenched his jaw a bit desperately.

You gave him a kitten lick along his length and then swirled around his tip, you felt that with so little he was close to his release.

You started jerking him off with your hands, mixing your licks and squeezes.

Han was literally struggling not to cum and that started to bother you. You took him in your mouth, sucking lightly and making a mess of saliva and his fluids.

“You look so cute like this,” he said, totally pleased by the way your chin was disgustingly dripping with saliva. His duality made you clench your legs, minutes ago he was all whiny begging like a bitch and the tone he let out was so different.

You let out a moan and took him deeper, making yourself gag.

"Mmh you like being good for me? I'm sure you were drooling seeing me hard" he put a hand on your head, gathering your hair in a handful.

You rolled your eyes and moaned again, not quite understanding if it was his tone that caused it or the simple fact of being him.

"You feel so fucking good, you have a very skilled little mouth" he threw his head back growling at your gasps.

Determined to make him cum you forced your poor throat accompanying with your hands squeezing and massaging his balls.

You felt his cock move in your mouth.

"Mmh Y/N w-wait" he tried to stop your movements, but you only stood firmer, watching him stagger was everything.

Out of instinct he pressed your head towards him, betrayed by his pleasure seeking body.

Then after a few more seconds he cum in your mouth with many thick loads straight to your throat.

The growl followed by a pornographic moan was beautiful. He threw his head back and let go of your head.

"Was it good?" You said smiling licking your cum stained corners.

"It was literally amazing" he smirked and covering his eyes with his arm.

"Thanks Y/N" he said looking at you and caressing your cheek with his thumb.

You snuggled into his hand lovingly until you saw him frown.

"What? You're still hard? How is that possible" you said stunned, he was still rock hard AFTER CUMMING.

"It's not really something I can help" he grimaced.

"It's a good thing" you said standing up.

"Hmm?" Han said confused looking at you.

"It would really be a shame if you left me wanting to fuck, I really appreciate that pill" you said biting your lip and pulling down your shorts along with your underwear.

Han followed your movements attentively, as if he was bewitched by your charm. Seeing your underwear on the floor he let out a gasp at the visible stain of arousal you had left.

"You're needy aren't you?" He smiled shamelessly as if it wasn't his cock that had been erect for over an hour.

He took off his shirt showing his tattoos, you had already seen them, but seeing them together with his needy cock is something different.

You followed his steps and undressed completely, he stretched out his hand, in a quick movement he left you on your knees on the couch, your face against the couch and your ass completely exposed to his mercy.

"I promise that after this I will take the time to adore you as you deserve" he said in your ear followed by a kiss on your cheek.

You felt your heart flutter.

"But now I'm going to use you however I want" he ran his tongue disgustingly across your cheek, dirtyly erasing the tender kiss he had left.

He took your moan as consent and positioned himself behind you.

"So cute, willing to help me even if she has to give me her body" he smacked your ass with his hard cock making you gasp. He bit his lip to stop himself from moaning.

He spit on your entrance and without preparation pushed the tip in stretching you deliciously.

You both let out a gasp, the desire that was there making the pleasure double.

"You're so tight" he pushed himself in a little further and you could only moan begging for him to bottom out.

When he reached his base you arched your back and threw your head back.

"You're being so good for me" he began to give slow but deep thrusts.

"You don't know how many times I masturbated imagining having you like this for me" he growled.

In response you moaned and clenched around him.

He put his hand on your head pushing hard against the couch and began to penetrate you faster and harder.

You just moaned with each thrust totally lost in the way you felt every inch of his cock in your insides, the pain of his grip on your head making it even more pleasurable. You were completely at his mercy.

He put his other hand on your hip, helping him thrust more violently, moaning and grunting at how close his climax felt.

And before he had a chance to pull out of you, he cum deeply.

Feeling his hot cum fill you and his grunt you joined him in the climax moaning and clenching yourself choking his member against your rubbery walls now painted white.

You were so exhausted you could only gasp waiting for him to pull out.

He was still buried deep appreciating the warmth of your shared orgasms.

"I-I'm sorry, I didn't want to..." he said, still without leaving you.

It's like his brain works, but his body has control.

"Calm down, actually, I liked it" you said trying to get over the climb.

He withdrew from you slowly, making you feel every inch you were losing. When he pulled out completely he admired your stretched entrance dripping with your mixed fluids.

"Are you okay?" He came back to reality and approached your face to check.

" It was so good" you said smiling and a bit sleepy "so you masturbated thinking about me? That's interesting" you laughed mockingly.

"Shut up, there's no need to repeat that" he was blushing as if you hadn't fucked two minutes ago.

You lay down and looked at him a little worried about what would happen to you after that.

"Can we leave that talk for later?" Literally as if he had read your thoughts.

"What needs to be done now?" You said, not understanding why he was putting off the talk.

You then saw him turn bright red and look down at his cock. He was hard again.

This was going to be a long sleepover.

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

English is not my first language, so if you see a mistake, please let me know 🙏🏻.

I need more practice writing smuts :((

I have several Chan fics waiting to be reviewed before posting 🤭.

If you have any requests, send them💞.

[slvttyplum]

“and soon as i press record, she gon' fuck me on cam.”

nanami may not look like it, but he was a little freak. folding, flipping and twisting you up like a rag filled with water that he had to squeeze out then manhandling you pushing you into positions you’ve never heard of. 

those were the tame things, something you could giggle and relive while you talked with your friends over lunch, at least to his standards.

what he really started to like was recording you. 

yes, sex tapes have become somewhat normalized, but nanami thought it was taboo to record such things, but he loved it so much.

this man could work a camera like the back of his hand. no, not a phone camera; we're not talking about beyoncé's video phone but instead a camcorder.

he was taking it old school, the strap firmly on his knuckles and everything; this man was serious.

nanami didn't trust recording anything on his phone, especially with his clumsiness; one wrong move and you getting bent over the couch armrest was accidentally sent to his coworker.

he didn’t want to miss a beat; he wanted to make sure this was filmed and kept only for him and you to see, plus it was something about the grainy screen that made everything sexier. 

his voice could be heard behind the camera in a low voice telling you what position to get into and lightly pressing the button on the camera zooming onto your ass. 

“yeah, just like that.”

the main focus point was you; the camera was never on him, and he even tried not to moan as much in the recordings. 

these were for him to look back on and either admire your gorgeous face and the way your moans sunk into his ears like honey or jerk off, really no in between for him. 

this was a man on a mission.

all he wanted to do was look at you; that’s why you never watched them back with him because they were of your face while he fucked you. 

“no come back, you look amazing.” he made sure to tell you every time, reassuring you after he stopped recording that you looked great. 

the whole recording thing wasn’t up your alley, but once you saw the old-ass camcorder, it eased your nerves a little. 

“amuse me; you don’t even have to look into the camera; act like it’s not even there.” 

a soft smile on his face as he looks at you directly in the eye, adjusting his glasses as he rubs his hand over your sides, and amuse him you did because he couldn’t get enough. 

this damn camcorder made both of you fuck like rabbits; it was something so erotic about recording an act between two lovers. 

nanami would be inches deep inside of you having your eyes going every which way while you spasmed around his dick telling you to smile for the camera. 

“let me see that pretty smile, just like that. good job.” 

this man knew what he was doing, but he just had to get some shots of you fucked out of your mind, another reason why you didn’t watch the recordings. 

sometimes it was his favorite pastime when he drank a little too much, watching the little screen of your dewy face scrunch up in such a lewd manner, making him want to fuck you all over again.

[kashverse]

hear me out, papakuna totally distraught about babykuna's first bday because he wants it to be absolutely perfect

sukuna has planned a lot of things in his life.

how to build his own company from the ground up? check. how to propose to you the moment he realized he was utterly, stupidly in love with you? check. how to plan an obscenely extravagant wedding despite you telling him no, we don’t need a horse-drawn carriage, suku, this is not a fairytale— check. but none of those compare to the sheer anxiety that consumes him when planning babykuna’s first birthday.

yes, that’s right. one whole year since you made him the happiest man on earth for the second time. (the first was when you agreed to be his wife. the second was when you gave him a mini-you.)

so naturally, this needs to be perfect. spectacular. a grand event to set the standard for all birthdays to come.

you watch from the couch, nursing a cup of tea, as your six-foot-something, terrifying, king-of-the-corporate-world husband paces the room with his phone pressed to his ear, his free hand gripping his hair like he’s planning the olympics.

"i don’t give a shit if there are scheduling issues, uraume, i need those ponies on saturday."

ponies. there are ponies at stake now.

"yeah? and tell the bakery i want the cake to be exactly like the reference. if i see even one ugly sprinkle, someone’s getting fired."

he hangs up with a frustrated sigh, rubbing his temples.

"baby, 'm this close to snapping someone’s neck."

"you mean over the birthday party that she won't even remember?" you ask, mildly amused. sukuna scoffs like you just committed blasphemy. "the disrespect. our daughter deserves the best."

you glance over at the soon to-be birthday girl herself, currently drooling on her own fist in her bouncer, blissfully unaware of her father’s slow descent into madness. "you’re stressing yourself out over nothing," you hum, sipping your tea.

"oh, yeah? and when she looks back at pictures of this day, do you want her to see a half-assed party?"

you raise a brow. "she’s literally chewing her foot right now."

sukuna turns to babykuna, who is, in fact, gnawing on her chubby little foot like a deranged gremlin. "she’s too young to understand stress," he grumbles, kneeling down to scoop her up. she gurgles in response, smacking her drooly little hands against his expensive-ass shirt. "yeah, that’s great, sweetheart," he mutters, gently wiping her mouth before pressing a kiss to her cheek.

she promptly spits up on his sleeve.

"...right. thanks."

you giggle. "maybe you should focus less on ponies and cake sprinkles and more on surviving fatherhood."

"shut up," he grumbles, shaking his drool-covered sleeve. you shake your head, smiling.

"but honestly, baby, you’re doing so much for her. she might not remember it, but we will. and when she’s older, she’ll see how much her dad loves her." he huffs, but you see the way his shoulders relax at your words.

"...whatever. still getting the ponies."

the day of the party, and babykuna is having the time of her tiny little life.

the ponies? a hit. the cake? bigger than her. the decorations? over-the-top. your husband? going absolutely feral over making sure the event is flawless.

"what the fuck is this?!" sukuna growls, glaring at the table.

choso, bless his ignorant soul, stares at the bowl of m&ms he just put down. "uh… candy?"

"these are the wrong colors."

"i—"

"WHERE'S THE BABY PINK? WHERE'S THE WHITE? DO I LOOK LIKE A FUCKING CIRCUS PERFORMER?!"

choso, looking genuinely scared for his life, quickly scoops up the bowl.

"i’ll—i’ll fix it!!"

meanwhile, babykuna, in her tiny pink party dress, is sitting directly on top of her smash cake, hands covered in icing, face lit up with pure joy as she happily smacks the dessert into oblivion. a photographer snaps a picture at the perfect moment—babykuna, mid-splatter, frosting in her hair, grin wide enough to make your heart burst. you lean into sukuna’s side, watching your daughter go feral.

"see? worth it." you murmur. he sighs, watching babykuna destroy the thing he spent weeks planning.

"...yeah. worth it."

[eufezco]

MOONY'S BACK! 𓂃 𓈒 ❀

marauder!remus lupin x slytherin!reader

synopsis — remus returns from his first date with you, a slytherin girl, and has to face his friends’ teasing in the common room.

fluff

remus entered the gryffindor common room.

he felt his heart beating harder than usual and his nose and cheeks were flushed from the cold air—and perhaps something more. the fire crackled softly in the hearth. before going in, remus knew the common room won't be empty. his friends had been insufferably annoying all week about this day and remus had a feeling they’d been waiting for him to return.

and sure enough, they were there. sirius lounged across the armchair closest to the fire, his legs draped over one arm and his head resting against the other. james was seated on the couch, reading a copy of quidditch weekly, while lily was resting against his body, with her head on his chest. peter was lying on the floor talking to her.

—moony's back! —peter announced. not even a second after remus set a foot into the common room. the moment those words left peter’s mouth, james, lily and sirius jumped from their seats.

—oh he's cheeks are more red than his gryffindor scarf!

remus touched them with the back of his hand as he took off his coat and scarf and left them hanging on a chair. —it's because of the snow outside.

—yeah, sure it's not because of that slytherin girl.

—did she kissed you? —peter asked straight up.

remus cheeks grew even hotter but he didn't answer to the question.

—you gotta tell us everything, moony! come on!

lily dragged him next to the fireplace and forced him to sit on the rug.

—is it really necessary? —remus asked, dying of embarrassment as he glanced up at his friends, who were eagerly looking back at him. james and sirius went back to sit on the couch, lily and peter were sitting in front of him on the floor.

—of course, it is! —lily said, her tone leaving no room for argument.

—oh, come on, moony, we’re all dying here, we've been waiting all afternoon. we just want to know how the date of the century went.

remus rolled his eyes at sirius words.

james decided that it was his time to join sirius' teasing. —yeah, and with a slytherin girl, no less. did she try to hex you? or, i dunno, bite you?

—good question, prongs. did she call you a blood traitor between compliments?

lily let out a dramatic sigh, giving them a sharp look. —you two are absolutely insufferable, —she said and turned back to remus, her voice softening. —don’t listen to them. they’re just jealous you had an actual date.

—she didn’t hex me, bite me, or called me a blood traitor, alright? she was perfectly nice and we had a great time —. remus stated. james and sirius huffed a laugh.

—a great time is suspiciously vague. care to elaborate?

remus played with his hands, the heat coming back to his cheeks when he started to remember everything.

—did she like the flowers, remus? —peter asked with excitement.

remus stood at the door of the castle, waiting for you. every time he looked at the bouquet in his hands, the wildflowers he carefully picked himself, he felt a little ridiculous. maybe it was too much for a first date. what if you thought it was silly? or worse, what if you didn’t like flowers at all? what if you were allergic to flowers? —flowers, moony? bold move. what’s next, planning the wedding? he shouldn't have told james and sirius. they spent the whole morning teasing him, and now their words were stuck on repeat in his mind. but peter told him it was a good idea, you were always so focused in herbology so you'd most likely loved them. in the middle of all the overthinking, remus heard the soft sound of footsteps on stone. he looked up, and there you were, walking down the stair with a shy but bright smile. your heart beat faster after seeing remus and you had to focus on the stairs, the last thing you wanted was to trip and make a fool of yourself in front of him. still, you only could think about how sweet he looked, nervously shifting his weight from one foot to the other. —hi —you said, your voice a little breathless but smiling. —hi —he replied. remus held out the bouquet. —these are for you. i thought you might like them. your eyes fell to the flowers. it was a careful mix of pinks, yellows and whites. the gesture made your chest ache in the best way because you know that he picked them himself for you. —they’re beautiful, —you said, your fingers brushing his as you took them. —thank you, remus. i love them.

—yes! i knew she'd love them —. peter said, triumphant.

—tell us, moony, did you hold her hand?

—padfoot, the audacity! —james gasped dramatically. —you held her hand on the first date, moony? i don't know who you are anymore!

remus rolled his eyes while he rubbed his hands, brushing over his thick scars. he tried not to hold your hand, not because he didn’t want to, but because he knew you’d notice the scars. and though he knew you weren’t the kind of person to say anything unkind, the thought of you touching them, of you asking about them, made his stomach twist.

to avoid falling in the snow, you had hooked your arm in remus'. you were laughing, your boots crunching through the snow, the conversation had flowed easily as always happened between you two. you were so comfortable in his presence that you didn't even realize that your hand began to slide down his arm, fingers tracing along the thick fabric of his coat until they slipped into his, curling naturally around his hand. when you glanced up at him, his cheeks were red but his lips curved into a shy smile. remus didn’t pull away. if anything, his hand tightened around yours. the scars on his hands didn’t matter to you. you noticed them long ago, during one of those afternoons in the library when the two of you studied together. he was flipping through the pages of a book and you saw them. it wasn’t hard to tell that he was self-conscious about them, he always wore the longest sweaters, ones that hung just past his wrists and sometimes even covered all his hands. that’s why you never asked him about it, except when you noticed some fresh ones, you couldn't help but ask him if he was okay.

—she was the one who held your hand! —james repeated. —moony, i think this girls wants to marry you.

—we’ll start planning the wedding now. peter, you can handle the flowers, moony’s already set the tone with that bouquet.

and they all laughed, even lily, who usually rolled her eyes at sirius and james’s relentless teasing, and remus, who usually found himself the victim of their jokes, couldn’t help but crack a smile.

—but come on, keep telling us!

—well, we walked to hogsmeade and we first visited some bookstores. she loves reading, she was so excited, practically dragging me around the place to show me her favorite sections and i had no complaints, as you can imagine.

james and sirius exchanged a look in disbelief and for once, neither of them could think of something to say. they had never seen their friend remus like this.

it wasn’t that girls hadn’t shown interest in him before, they had. but remus had always been polite, reserved, never letting things go past a conversation about books or classwork. he’d keep his distance, waving them hi in the corridors, showing them shy smiles, remembering their names, listening when they spoke, even sharing his notes if they needed help.

but dating? that had always seemed beyond him. it was complicated, messy, and exposed.

—merlin’s beard, —sirius murmured not wanting to interrupt remus who kept talking about you. sirius glanced at james with wide eyes. —she’s breaking down his walls.

james nodded slowly, an incredulous grin spreading across his face. —and he’s letting her.

the moment you turned the corner, your eyes landed on the familiar wooden sign swinging gently in the breeze, your favorite bookstore. it was small, away from the main street of hogsmeade, often closed when you visited, as if it only opened for those who truly needed it. you gasped, catching your breath in surprise. —it’s open! and he didn’t resist, letting you drag him toward the door. remus could immediately see why you liked the store so much, it was cozy, small but inviting, and it smelled like coffee and wood. run by an elderly woman who greeted you both as you entered, she gave you a knowing nod, as though she’d seen your excitement countless times before. —it's good that you've finally brought your boyfriend here. a handsome gryffindor boy, no less, welcome dear. remus froze for a split second, his cheeks hot red. —oh, i... um... —he looked at you for help. you couldn’t help but laugh at his expression, though your own cheeks felt a little warm. —he’s not my... —you started, but the old woman waved you off with a twinkle in her eye. —no need to explain, dear, you don’t have to tell an old woman what’s plain to see —. she winked at you both before turning back to her counter. you nudged him playfully. —don’t worry, she says things like that to everyone. probably —remus gave you a skeptical look but couldn’t help smiling as he let you lead him deeper into the shop.

of course, he didn't tell his friends about this, he didn't even want to think about how much james and sirius would tease him.

remus continued talking about you. lily looked at him closely, wanting to know everything he could tell her about you. —she has good taste in books, she recommended me one about history of magic, she says it will make that class more interesting and help me pay more attention.

—that's so sweet of her. she noticed that you zone out during history of magic —. a sweet giggle escaped lily's lips.

remus rubbed the back of his neck. —yeah, i guess it’s not exactly a secret. —he shook his head, he didn't want to talk about history of magic right now, he wanted to keep talking about you. —then we went to the three broomstick.

—let me guess, she ordered something weird, like firewhisky, and you had to pretend to be cool with it?

remus rolled his eyes. —no, sirius. she ordered butterbeer, like a normal person.

—remus, you two seem to be very comfortable around each other —lily said, her tone innocent, but the mischievous twinkle in her eyes betrayed her. —there had to be a kiss.

sirius and james shared a look, they seemed genuinely surprised by lily’s boldness but they didn't say anything because they were more interested in remus' answer. the heat of his cheeks spread all the way up to his ears. james’s eyes widened as he caught remus’s expression. —so there was a kiss! —he exclaimed, pointing a finger at him like he’d just solved a mystery.

—do we really need to talk about this?

—yes! —all four of them said in unison.

you sat across from remus, the soft light from the lanterns of the three broomsticks lightened his face with a soft glow. it caught the silvery scars that lined his cheek, making them shimmer faintly, though he seemed oblivious to it. a single butterbeer sat between you, the two of you had been sharing it. you pointed at the corner of remus’s mouth. —oh, you have something, —you said, gesturing to the spot. —where? —he asked, looking confused as he swiped at his mouth. —no, it’s more to the... —you leaned over the table. —here, let me. you reached out and used your thumb to gently wipe away the trace of butterbeer at the corner of his lips. the moment leaned in closer, just a few inches apart now, his golden-brown eyes widened slightly, his breath catching as he looked at you. you closed the gap, your lips brushed his in a sweet kiss. remus froze for a moment but then he closed his eyes and melted into it. when you pulled back, his cheeks were pink, his expression soft as he said —you, um... you missed a spot. you laughed, your own cheeks warm as you sat back down. —i’ll get it next time.

the room went silent for a beat. peter sat there thinking, confusion spreading across his face. james was the one who broke the silence as he threw his head back, laughing. —that’s brilliant! the old ‘you’ve got something on your face’ trick.

peter was still confused. sirius shook his head. —she’s bold. i like her.

lily was smiling warmly. —i think it’s cute, —she said. —clearly, she’s not afraid to show how she feels.

peter’s eyes widened and he gasped as the realization hit him. —so she kissed you twice! —he exclaimed.

sirius groaned. it was working just fine, they were all surprised that remus had told them about another kiss and not the one they had seen from the common room, but they handled it just fine and knew how to hide it, all except peter. sirius threw one of the pillows at him. —you idiot!

remus frowned, it was true that you kissed him twice but how could peter possibly know that? —you spied on us?!

—spied is a strong word —. james said.

peter lifted his arms defensively, ducking as another pillow came flying his way. —no, not spy! we just… saw you two walking back to the castle. by accident! while we were… uh, checking the weather.

james smirked, leaning back in his seat. —exactly and that second kiss? didn’t think you were that much taller than her, moony, but there she was, standing on her tiptoes in the snow. pretty romantic, actually.

remus was mortified.

you walked arm in arm with remus back to the castle, his presence keeping you warm enough from the cold weather outside. the date went better than you ever could have imagined. remus was charming, thoughtful, and surprisingly funny. every moment with him felt genuine, like the two of you existed in a bubble where nothing else mattered. as you neared the castle, you found yourself thinking about how you didn't want the evening to end. you stopped face to face, you had to say goodbye but the words didn't come out of any of yours mouth. you didnt want it to end. remus stood there, his hands awkwardly tucked into the pockets of his coat, his gaze flickering between your face and the ground. —well... —you both said at the same time. —see you tomorrow in class. you nodded. —yeah, see you tomorrow —. your arms wrapped around him in a gentle hug. his arms slowly went around your waist, pulling you in just a little bit closer. when you pulled back from the hug, the space between you was closer, and you couldn’t help but notice how his eyes lingered on your lips. your heart beat faster in your chest, and before either of you could think too much about it, you stood on your tiptoes and closed the distance, pressing your lips to his one more time. remus took his hands out of his pockets to hold your face and yours pressed against his chest. when you finally pulled away, the smile on remus’s face told you everything you needed to know. —see you tomorrow, then? —you whispered softly, still a little dazed from the kiss. he nodded, his smile never fading. —yeah. tomorrow.

—and you should be grateful that i didn't let them use the invisibility cloak —. lily added.

remus groaned, dragging his hands down his face. —grateful? you’ve got to be joking.

lily's expression softened as she leaned forward. —but seriously, remus, it sounds like it was a nice date. it’s good to see you happy.

—yeah, it was great seeing that slytherin trying to suck your soul and you gladly letting her do it.

lily gave sirius a sharp look, but even she couldn't suppress a small smile at his teasing. remus, however, looked like he might die of embarrassment as he buried his face in his hands again.

—i'm so done with this conversation —. remus added as he stood up from the floor. he wanted to go to sleep as soon as possible so that tomorrow he would arrive earlier.

james just grinned. —you can’t stop now, moony. we’ve just started.

[callikari]

THE TUTOR —LEE HEESEUNG ᝰ.ᐟ ˎˊ˗

SYNOPSIS — being a broke college student meant doing whatever it took to survive, even if that meant lying your way into a tutoring gig you weren’t qualified for. when lee heeseung, campus golden boy and star athlete, mistook you for his assigned tutor, you saw an opportunity—he was willing to pay, and you needed the money. easy cash, right? except there was one problem: he was already acing the class. turns out, he just wanted an excuse to spend time with you. now, you’re stuck in a fake tutoring arrangement, trying (and failing) to convince yourself that his dumb little smirks and unnecessary close proximity aren’t affecting you.

PAIRING — lee heeseung x broke-college-student-fem!reader (ft. enhypen, yunjin & eunchae from le sserafim, wonyoung from ive)

GENRE(S) — written, college au, fake tutor au, idiots to lovers, mutual pining, fluff, comedy, and slight crack.

WARNING(S) — swearing, broke student struggles, scamming (for survival purposes), heeseung being an annoying flirt, your friends clowning you, lots of academic bullshitting, and mild secondhand embarrassment.

WORDCOUNT — 10k

you had no idea how you ended up in this situation. honestly, you were just a broke college student trying to make some extra cash by tutoring, and now you were stuck in a "mess" of a situation with lee heeseung—campus golden boy, star athlete, and the last person you thought you'd end up spending this much time with.

it all started in the library, where you had been buried under a mountain of textbooks and assignments. you were just minding your own business, trying to squeeze in as much studying as you could before the next exam, when heeseung walked up to you with a confused look on his face.

"hey, are you my tutor?" he asked, looking at you like you were the answer to his prayers.

you blinked. “your tutor?”

“yeah, you’re supposed to help me with my chemistry class, right?” he said, pulling out a crumpled sheet of paper.

the paper had your name on it. assigned tutor.

you looked at him for a long second, unsure how to respond. in that moment, your brain made a split-second decision.

no, this wasn’t right. you weren’t his tutor.

but then again, you were broke. and he was paying.

so, instead of correcting him, you smiled and said, “yep. that’s me.”

heeseung grinned, clearly pleased with himself. “great! let’s get started, then.”

you immediately regretted your decision.

and so, here you were.

heeseung was the "last" person you expected to be in your tutoring group. you knew his type—popular, charismatic, and completely "unbothered" by anything that had to do with studying. you weren’t even sure how he managed to get into college in the first place with his terrible grades.

he sat down across from you, all smiles, like he didn’t have a care in the world. meanwhile, you were scrambling to figure out how to get him to actually pay attention to what you were saying. you’d barely gotten into your lesson before he started yawning.

“is this really necessary?” he asked, his tone light and lazy.

you glanced up, trying your best to suppress a frustrated sigh. “yes, heeseung. chemistry is a requirement for your major.”

he looked at you, completely unfazed. “i’m pretty sure i can just ask my tutor to give me the answers.”

you stared at him, blinking. “i *am* your tutor.”

he smirked. “well, then you’re not doing a very good job.”

you couldn’t help the way your eyebrow twitched at his words. why was this so difficult?

the more you tried to get him focused, the more distracted he became. you found yourself flipping through the textbook and pointing out formulas that made sense to you, while he sat back and played with his pen. his lack of attention was grating on your nerves, but you refused to let him see how annoyed you were.

“heeseung, focus. we need to finish this chapter today,” you said through clenched teeth.

he glanced up at you lazily, a playful grin forming on his lips. “you’re kind of cute when you’re serious.”

you froze. "what?" you couldn’t even process the words. sure, you knew he was a flirt, but hearing him say that made your heart skip a beat. you swallowed, trying to shake it off. this was heeseung, after all. you couldn’t let him get under your skin.

he leaned forward, clearly enjoying how flustered you were. “i’ll try my best, tutor,” he teased, his voice dropping into a teasing tone.

you gave him a tight smile, trying to regain control of the situation. “let’s get to work.”

it was incredible how little heeseung actually knew about chemistry. each time you tried to explain a concept, he’d stare at you like you were speaking a foreign language. but it wasn’t just that—he was charming in the most infuriating way. his innocent questions and half-smiles made you question your focus. you had to admit, the guy was cute, and his charm was practically endless.

“so, like, what does this even do?” he asked, pointing to the periodic table in front of you.

you tried your best to stay professional, keeping your voice as calm as possible. “this is the atomic structure. see, each element has its own number of protons, neutrons, and electrons. you need to understand the structure in order to comprehend chemical reactions.”

heeseung nodded as if he understood, but the amused glint in his eyes told you otherwise. “right, right. so, can we just…skip this and get to the part where you help me ace the exam?” he asked, his grin wide.

“heeseung,” you groaned, rubbing your temples. “we need to understand the basics first. there’s no way you’ll get through the exam without knowing this.”

he just tilted his head to the side, his hair falling perfectly around his face. “but you’re cute when you’re frustrated.”

your eyes widened in disbelief, but you refused to give him the satisfaction. “stop distracting me. focus on the material,” you snapped, though you could feel your face heating up despite your best efforts to remain composed.

it was a constant cycle of distractions, laughter, and trying to drag him back into the lesson. every time you thought you’d made progress, he’d throw you off course with a casual comment or a playful smirk. it felt like you were running in circles.

the more time you spent with heeseung, the more you started to notice things about him. little things. like how he’d always brush his hair out of his eyes when he was concentrating—well, pretending to concentrate, anyway. or how his smile could light up the entire room, even when he was clearly being a little brat.

it was a slow burn, but you were starting to realize that heeseung wasn’t just the charming golden boy you thought he was. yeah, he was annoying as hell, but there was something more beneath the surface. he was smart—really smart, when he put his mind to it. you’d seen it when he actually listened to what you were saying. it was frustrating, to say the least. here you were, trying to keep him focused, but at the same time, you were starting to feel a little… distracted yourself.

“okay, okay,” he said, leaning back in his chair, his hands behind his head in a relaxed posture. “i think i’m getting it.”

“really?” you asked, eyebrows raised. “you understand how to balance chemical equations now?”

he shrugged. “more or less. but honestly, i think i’d understand better if you gave me some extra help.”

you crossed your arms, fighting the urge to roll your eyes. “extra help?” you repeated, your voice a little too sarcastic for your liking.

he leaned forward again, a devilish grin curling on his lips. “yeah. like, you know, help outside of studying. maybe, we could—” he broke off when he saw the look on your face.

“no,” you said flatly.

“aww, come on,” he teased, his grin only widening. “what are you so afraid of?”

you felt your heart skip a beat, but you pushed it down. “nothing. i’m not afraid of anything,” you muttered, turning your attention back to your notes.

he leaned back again, clearly entertained by your reaction. “you know, you’re not as tough as you think.”

you didn’t know if you should laugh or just throw something at him. instead, you went with a fake smile. “don’t flatter yourself.”

he just laughed. “hey, no need to be so harsh. i’m just trying to help.”

“you’re trying to distract me,” you shot back.

“well, it’s working.”

the next time you met with heeseung for tutoring, something felt different. maybe it was the way he greeted you, with a casual “hey, ready to teach me something new today?” or maybe it was the way his usual teasing seemed to have softened. whatever it was, it made you more aware of how much you were starting to look forward to these sessions.

“we’re going over reactions today,” you said, trying to focus. “this is where things get a little trickier, but you can handle it, right?”

heeseung flashed you a grin, already making himself comfortable in his chair. “i’m ready. as long as you’re not as serious as last time.”

you shot him a look. “i’m always serious.”

he winked at you, and you couldn’t help but sigh. “seriously, though, pay attention.”

he was paying attention—or at least, he was pretending to. as you began explaining the basics of chemical reactions, you noticed how he watched you. his usual playful glint in his eyes was still there, but there was something else now—something more sincere. heeseung wasn’t just here to mess around. he was actually trying, and it threw you off.

“so, what happens when—” you stopped mid-sentence, realizing he wasn’t just looking at you but listening.

“when an element reacts with another, the atoms rearrange to form a compound,” he finished for you.

you blinked, surprised. “wait. you actually got that right?”

heeseung leaned back, a smug look on his face. “of course. i’m not a total idiot, you know.”

“well, you’ve been acting like one lately,” you shot back, but even you could hear the hint of affection in your voice.

heeseung’s expression softened, and for a brief moment, the playful energy between you two seemed to fade. “guess I’m not as bad as you thought.”

you weren’t sure how to respond to that, so you focused back on your notes. “let’s just get through this, okay?”

heeseung’s grin returned, but now, there was a sense of warmth behind it. “yeah. we’ll make a great team.”

you weren’t sure why, but those words made your heart race.

the sessions with heeseung weren’t just about chemistry anymore. they were about you and him. the more time you spent with him, the more you realized how much he liked to poke fun at you. but at the same time, he made you feel like you actually mattered. and god, that was frustrating. you were supposed to be the one in control here—not him.

so when he slid into the seat next to you one afternoon, throwing an arm across the back of your chair, you couldn’t help but feel a little too aware of him.

“ready to learn?” he asked, a playful grin tugging at his lips.

you tried to act unaffected, but there was a tightness in your chest that you couldn’t ignore. “we’re not here to talk about my learning skills, heeseung,” you said coolly, flipping open your notes.

he leaned closer, his voice lowering in that teasing way that always seemed to get under your skin. “you know, if you weren’t so good at teaching, i’d probably just be failing by now.”

you raised an eyebrow. “you say that now, but you wouldn’t even be passing if you weren’t such a good student,” you shot back, your voice dripping with sarcasm.

heeseung chuckled, clearly unfazed. “oh, so you admit it? i’m actually a great student.”

you let out a dramatic sigh. “don’t flatter yourself.”

he leaned back in his chair with a satisfied grin. “i think you like it when i flatter myself.”

you rolled your eyes. “no, i think you’re insufferable.”

but even as you said it, you couldn’t stop the faint smile tugging at the corners of your lips.

the silence stretched for a moment, and for once, heeseung didn’t say anything. he just looked at you, like he was trying to figure you out.

you hated how that made your stomach twist.

“you really don’t like me, do you?” he finally asked, his voice quieter than usual.

the question caught you off guard, and for a moment, you didn’t know how to respond. sure, you hated his teasing and his constant jokes, but something about him made you want to keep going. to keep being with him.

“i don’t know,” you said slowly. “maybe i do. maybe i don’t. you’re a pain.”

heeseung’s grin softened, his eyes narrowing playfully. “i think you like me, just a little.”

you narrowed your eyes at him, but the heat in your cheeks betrayed you. “don’t push your luck.”

he just laughed, clearly enjoying the way he was getting under your skin. “okay, okay. but i know i’m not as bad as you make me out to be.”

you didn’t answer. you couldn’t. because deep down, you knew he was right.

the next few days passed by in a blur, with your study sessions becoming more frequent. heeseung had somehow turned into someone you could tolerate way more than you were comfortable admitting. and yet, you still couldn’t bring yourself to like him completely. not in the way he seemed to want you to.

you were walking through the campus courtyard, lost in your own thoughts when you spotted him across the yard, laughing with a group of people. heeseung was a natural when it came to making friends, effortlessly charismatic and always in the center of attention. you hated how much that bothered you. it wasn’t jealousy, you told yourself. it was just the fact that you hated how easy it came to him.

as you walked past, you caught his eye, and his expression immediately shifted. he excused himself from his friends and jogged over to you, that cocky grin on his face.

“you’re staring at me again,” he teased, his tone light, but you could see the playful glint in his eyes.

you blinked, startled. “i was not.”

he raised an eyebrow, crossing his arms over his chest. “you were definitely staring at me.”

you cursed inwardly. of course he noticed. “i wasn’t staring. i was just—” you stopped, realizing you had no excuse.

“it’s fine,” he said, a smug look appearing on his face. “i kind of like it when you stare. makes me feel special.”

you shot him a look, fighting the urge to roll your eyes. “don’t get ahead of yourself, heeseung. i was not staring. i just… got distracted. okay?”

heeseung just laughed, a low chuckle that sent a strange warmth flooding your chest. “sure, sure. whatever you say.”

you started walking again, trying to ignore the way your heart was beating a little faster. “i have to get to class,” you muttered, already feeling the awkwardness creeping in.

“i’ll walk with you,” he said, falling into step beside you without waiting for an answer. “might as well since i’m already here.”

“you really don’t take a hint, do you?” you teased, but the smile on your face betrayed your words.

heeseung shrugged casually. “nah, not really. i like to make my own rules.”

“clearly,” you muttered under your breath, still not used to how confident he was. it wasn’t just his charisma—it was the way he seemed so sure of himself around you. it was like he knew exactly what he was doing, and you had no idea how to handle it.

the walk to class was filled with small talk. lighthearted banter, the kind of stuff that made the air between you two feel almost normal—if you could call it that. normal, until he dropped the bombshell.

“so, do you ever think about… us?” he asked, his voice quieter this time, a little more serious than usual.

you stopped in your tracks, your heart racing. “what do you mean?”

heeseung turned to face you, his gaze softening. “i mean… do you think we’re getting along better now?”

you blinked, thrown off by the sudden shift. “i guess? i don’t know. it’s… weird.”

“yeah, i get it. it’s weird for me too,” he admitted, looking down for a moment. then, as if trying to lighten the mood, he added, “but i’m kinda enjoying it.”

you frowned. “enjoying what? our bickering?”

heeseung smirked. “well, yeah. i mean, it’s fun, isn’t it? but… i also like the times when we don’t fight. when it’s just us, talking.”

you were quiet for a moment, your mind racing. could it be? could he really be saying what you thought he was saying?

“heeseung, you’re impossible,” you muttered, though your heart was beating faster now. maybe he wasn’t so bad after all.

heeseung stepped closer, that signature cocky grin back on his face. “maybe, but you still like me.”

the following week, your study sessions with heeseung took a sudden turn. instead of the usual quiet library dates, he started dragging you around campus, making you go to random spots to “study.” sometimes it was by the fountain, sometimes near the campus cafe, and once, he even convinced you to sit in the middle of the quad in the grass—in the middle of the day, no less.

“are you sure this is productive?” you asked skeptically, looking around at all the students walking by. the noise was borderline unbearable.

heeseung, however, seemed completely unbothered. he had his headphones in, typing away on his phone, clearly in his own world. “the point of studying is being comfortable. if you’re uncomfortable, you won’t focus. so relax.”

you sighed, dropping your bag onto the grass beside you and following his lead. you hadn’t expected him to turn into this “study guru” who somehow knew all the right ways to study. but maybe it worked. you couldn’t deny that it made you focus better.

“okay, so what are we even doing?” you asked, still unsure how you were supposed to study in the middle of a bustling campus.

heeseung smirked, pulling out a notebook. “well, i figured you could help me with my notes. i’m clearly struggling,” he said with mock sincerity, even though he knew you were the one who had been tutoring him.

you gave him a deadpan look. “struggling, huh? sure. if you say so.”

heeseung flipped the notebook open to a page full of notes and highlighted passages. “help me go over this. i need to make sure i don’t bomb the next quiz.”

as you went over the material with him, you couldn’t help but notice that he was more… attentive than usual. it wasn’t just that he was asking you to explain things. he was genuinely trying to understand. and for once, you weren’t frustrated with him. you found yourself getting lost in the work and even… enjoying the way he listened intently, his focus entirely on what you were saying.

but just as you were getting comfortable, your friend group walked by, and of course, they had to notice you and heeseung sitting together.

“oh, look at this,” yujin teased, clearly amused. “the two study buddies are actually… studying?”

“what are you doing here?” you groaned, trying to hide the slight flush creeping up your neck.

“we’re just passing by,” wonyoung said innocently, but the smirk on her face betrayed her true intentions. she was way too into the idea of you and heeseung spending time together.

“don’t act like you weren’t just checking on us,” heeseung added, eyes twinkling. “you know, we’re not that interesting.”

“oh, we know,” yujin said with a wink. “we just came to make sure you weren’t actually getting along. because we all know you two are at each other’s throats most of the time.”

you groaned, throwing your head back in exasperation. “please, not you guys too.”

wonyoung sat down beside you, throwing an arm around your shoulders. “sooo, tell me, how’s the heeseung tutoring going?” she grinned at you, clearly enjoying the chaos she was about to cause.

you shot her a glare. “heeseung is actually doing fine. for once.” you shot him a quick glance to make sure he wasn’t about to do something dumb.

heeseung, however, seemed unfazed. “yeah, i think i’m doing great. i’m just… naturally brilliant,” he said, giving you a mischievous look.

yujin laughed. “oh, right. naturally brilliant. that’s why you needed help in the first place.”

“you’re one to talk, yujin,” you shot back. “how’s your chemistry grade going, huh?”

wonyoung gave a dramatic gasp. “oh no, not the chemistry card,” she said, making a show of clutching her chest. “you didn’t just do that.”

heeseung grinned. “looks like i’m not the only one who’s got an ego problem.”

you rolled your eyes, but deep down, you couldn’t help but laugh along with them. there was something about being surrounded by your friends, even if they were shamelessly teasing you, that felt… nice.

it wasn’t long before the teasing died down, and your friends eventually decided to go grab some lunch. but before they left, wonyoung gave you a knowing smile. “we’ll leave you two alone. don’t do anything i wouldn’t do!”

“what?” you exclaimed, almost choking on your own laughter.

yujin threw a wink in your direction. “you know exactly what we mean.”

once they were gone, heeseung looked at you with an unreadable expression. “well, that was… something.”

you blinked, feeling the weight of the moment. it was the first time you felt like it was just the two of you—no teasing, no interruptions. just… him.

“yeah, it was,” you said, clearing your throat. “but, uh, we’re still studying. right?”

heeseung nodded, his usual smirk returning. “yeah, yeah. but… maybe later, we can have a proper study date.”

your heart skipped a beat at his words, and for the first time in forever, you didn’t feel the need to push him away. maybe—just maybe—you were starting to like this whole study partnership.

the next day, heeseung texted you a little earlier than usual. it wasn’t a huge surprise—he had developed a habit of doing that, whether it was to talk about studying or to joke around. but this time, the message was different.

heeseung: “hey, i was thinking about how much you need a study break. how about we grab lunch later?”

you: “seriously? i’m not a workaholic like you. i do know how to take breaks.”

heeseung: “i beg to differ. you’ve been glued to those books for hours. i can’t let that happen. lunch at 12?”

you stared at the message for a second. it was true that you’d been spending a little too much time with your nose buried in textbooks, but you hadn’t realized anyone was paying attention to it. you thought for a moment, then typed a response.

you: “fine. you win. lunch it is.”

at lunch, the campus was bustling with students, and as usual, heeseung had picked the most random spot to meet up: the food court. it was packed with people from different clubs and groups, but you didn’t mind it. somehow, even in the chaos, you felt like it was just the two of you. heeseung sat across from you, grinning from ear to ear.

“so, what’s on your mind today?” he asked, taking a bite of his sandwich.

you narrowed your eyes at him. “don’t act like you’re not just using this lunch break to drag me away from studying.”

he chuckled. “okay, okay. maybe i am. but it’s for your own good.”

before you could respond, your friends walked by—yujin, wonyoung, and hong eunchae, all heading toward the smoothie stand.

“oh, look at that,” yujin said loudly. “the lovebirds are having lunch.”

“yujin, shut up,” you groaned, sinking into your seat in embarrassment. “why do you guys always have to tease?”

“it’s fun,” wonyoung said, winking at you both. “you two are adorable. i’m just waiting for the day when you admit you like each other.”

you shot wonyoung a look. “it’s not like that,” you muttered, but even you could hear the slight hesitation in your voice.

heeseung, ever the tease, smirked. “oh? but wouldn’t it be interesting if it was like that?”

your friends took a seat at the table next to yours, but the teasing didn’t stop there. eunchae chimed in, grinning from ear to ear. “oh my god, it’s so obvious. look at the way you two look at each other.”

you groaned and hid your face in your hands, while heeseung, on the other hand, was clearly enjoying this attention.

“we’re literally just studying partners,” you insisted, trying to keep your voice steady.

“uh huh, sure,” wonyoung said, not believing you for a second. “you’re totally just ‘study buddies.’”

heeseung laughed, nudging you playfully. “what, do you think we’re some sort of study machine? we’ve got to eat sometime, you know.”

“that’s not what i’m saying,” you said, trying your best to ignore your blushing cheeks. “it’s not like we have feelings for each other.”

yujin shot you a teasing glance. “whatever you say, y/n. we’ll see about that.”

as the conversation continued, you tried to focus on your lunch, but you couldn’t help feeling a little flustered. your friends were relentless, and you couldn’t escape their teasing. at some point, heeseung nudged you again, this time a little more seriously.

“don’t let them get to you,” he said quietly, his voice soft.

you looked up at him in surprise. “what?”

“i can see how uncomfortable you are. don’t let them mess with your head. we’re just friends. study partners,” he emphasized the words with a wink, making you laugh.

“right,” you said, finally feeling a little better. maybe heeseung wasn’t just teasing. maybe, he actually understood how awkward this whole thing was.

just then, yujin raised her eyebrows. “wait, wait. friends? no, no, no. you two have definitely been spending a little too much time together for it to be just that.”

you sighed and rolled your eyes. “can you all just stop?”

eunchae, still grinning, leaned in a little too close. “oh, but y/n, we can’t. you two are like a soap opera waiting to happen. all this sexual tension is just begging for a plot twist.”

you almost choked on your food, while heeseung, to his credit, just grinned. “you know what they say, though. you can’t fight chemistry.”

“heeseung, shut up,” you said quickly, shaking your head.

the rest of the lunch went on with the teasing, but by the end of it, you couldn’t deny that you were starting to enjoy it. the teasing wasn’t as annoying as it used to be. if anything, it was starting to feel… normal. maybe you were beginning to feel more comfortable with heeseung than you thought.

as you all headed back to campus, you couldn’t shake off the idea of what your friends had said. maybe they were right. maybe there was something more going on between you and heeseung than just studying. but that thought left you with one burning question:

did he feel the same?

after lunch, you tried to shake off your friends’ words, but their teasing lingered in your mind longer than you wanted to admit.

you two are like a soap opera waiting to happen.

all this sexual tension is just begging for a plot twist.

they were just messing with you… right? there was nothing going on between you and heeseung. sure, he had become one of the people you spent the most time with lately, but that didn’t mean anything. it was just studying. and occasional banter. and… him noticing when you needed a break.

ugh. this was so annoying.

before you could spiral further, your phone buzzed with a text.

heeseung: “you free later? study session part 12938?”

you rolled your eyes but smiled.

you: “more like part 20. but yeah, sure.”

heeseung: “great. library, usual spot. i’ll bring snacks. you bring your brain.”

you: “you make it sound like i don’t have one.”

heeseung: “well, you keep denying your obvious crush on me, so i’m starting to wonder.”

you: “EXCUSE ME?”

heeseung: “relax, i’m kidding. unless…?”

you: “don’t even start.”

heeseung: “lmao, see you later, study buddy.”

you groaned, flopping onto your bed. why did he always have to tease you like that? and why did it get under your skin so much?

later that evening, you met heeseung at the library, as planned. as soon as you sat down, he slid a chocolate bar across the table toward you.

“peace offering,” he said with a smirk.

you eyed him suspiciously but unwrapped it anyway. “what are you apologizing for?”

“for making you flustered earlier,” he said casually, flipping open his notebook.

you nearly choked on your chocolate. “i was not flustered.”

he looked up, raising an eyebrow. “sure. whatever helps you sleep at night.”

you glared at him but decided to drop it. you were not giving him the satisfaction of seeing you react. instead, you focused on studying.

for the next hour, you two actually managed to get some work done—well, mostly.

“y/n, you’ve been staring at the same page for five minutes,” heeseung said, snapping his fingers in front of your face.

you blinked. “huh?”

“see? you’re totally distracted. are you thinking about something?” he teased, resting his chin on his hand.

“no,” you said quickly, flipping the page for dramatic effect. “just… taking in the information.”

he smirked. “taking in information or taking in me?”

“heeseung, i swear—”

before you could finish, a voice interrupted.

“oh? is this a date or a study session?”

you turned to see sunghoon and jake standing nearby, both of them looking way too amused.

“neither,” you said flatly. “why are you guys even here?”

“because watching you two is peak entertainment,” jake said, plopping down next to you. “heeseung told us you’d be here, so we figured we’d stop by.”

“of course he did,” you muttered, shooting a glare at heeseung, who only grinned in response.

“so, when’s the wedding?” sunghoon asked, completely serious.

“i hate all of you,” you said, covering your face with your hands.

heeseung chuckled. “c’mon, guys, don’t scare y/n off. they still have to help me pass this class.”

“ah, right,” jake said, nodding. “but after that, you’ll confess, yeah?”

you gaped at him. “why would you assume that?”

sunghoon smirked. “because it’s obvious.”

you groaned. “can we please just study?”

heeseung leaned closer, his voice low so only you could hear. “aw, do i make you nervous?”

you shot him a look. “you wish.”

but the truth was… maybe he did. just a little. and you weren’t sure what to do about that.

for the next few days, you did your best to ignore the way heeseung had somehow weaseled his way into your daily routine. between studying, running into him on campus, and your friends’ constant teasing, it was like the universe was forcing you to acknowledge… whatever this was.

but you weren’t giving in. absolutely not.

until one night, when everything changed.

you were sitting outside your dorm building, scrolling through your phone and attempting to unwind from a long day, when heeseung plopped down next to you, startling you.

“what the hell—”

“hey,” he said, completely unfazed by your reaction. “what are you doing out here alone?”

“thinking about how much better my life would be if you stopped showing up everywhere i go,” you deadpanned.

heeseung clutched his chest dramatically. “ouch. and here i was, about to offer you a ride to the late-night diner.”

you paused. “…there’s a late-night diner?”

he smirked. “yes. and i know you haven’t eaten because i know your study habits by now.”

you rolled your eyes. “so what, you’re my personal meal tracker now?”

he stood up, holding out a hand. “just shut up and come with me.”

against your better judgment, you took his hand.

the diner was small, dimly lit, and surprisingly cozy. the kind of place you could see yourself spending hours in without realizing it. heeseung led you to a booth and, without asking, ordered milkshakes for both of you.

“what if i didn’t want a milkshake?” you challenged.

“please, you love milkshakes,” he shot back.

you narrowed your eyes. “…how do you know that?”

he shrugged. “i pay attention.”

you hated the way your stomach flipped at that.

as the night went on, you found yourself forgetting about your usual arguments. talking with heeseung felt easy—annoying at times, but effortless. he told you stories about his childhood, his dumbest mistakes, and his dreams of doing something meaningful after graduation. you found yourself laughing more than you had in weeks.

and then, as you were finishing your milkshake, he looked at you and said, “y’know, i like this.”

“like what?”

“hanging out with you. without all the arguing.”

you blinked. “you like hanging out with me?”

heeseung scoffed. “wow, don’t look so surprised. i do have a heart.”

“questionable,” you muttered, though you felt your face heat up.

he grinned. “but seriously. this is nice.”

you hesitated before nodding. “…yeah. it is.”

there was a beat of silence. then, because you apparently hated peace, you blurted, “but you’re still annoying.”

heeseung laughed, shaking his head. “god, you’re impossible.”

but he didn’t let go of the straw he had been absentmindedly playing with. and neither did you.

you didn’t know what was more shocking: the fact that you willingly spent an entire night with heeseung without plotting his downfall, or the fact that you actually enjoyed it.

either way, you refused to dwell on it.

the next morning, you convinced yourself it was just the exhaustion talking. a momentary lapse in judgment. surely, once you saw him again, he’d go right back to being the most irritating person on campus.

except… he didn’t.

instead, you found yourself sitting next to him in class, sharing your notes like it was the most natural thing in the world. instead of snide remarks, he shot you small, amused glances when you got frustrated over an assignment. instead of ignoring each other in the library, he casually placed an extra coffee next to your laptop, muttering, “you looked half-dead, figured you needed this.”

and instead of feeling annoyed, you felt… something else. something dangerous.

“you’ve been real quiet lately,” jay commented as he sat across from you in the student lounge.

you blinked up at him. “what?”

“you and heeseung. where’s all the fighting? the dramatic, public arguments? i feel like i’m watching the downfall of an iconic rivalry.”

you scoffed. “don’t be ridiculous. we still argue.”

jay raised an eyebrow. “really? because from what i’ve seen, you guys are, like… flirting now.”

you nearly choked on your drink. “excuse me? flirting?”

“yeah. all the ‘oh my god, you’re so annoying’ and ‘ugh, i hate you’ shit?” jay smirked. “that’s flirting.”

“fuck off,” you muttered, kicking his shin under the table.

jay yelped, but his grin didn’t waver. “hey, i’m just saying—if you ever need a best man at the wedding, i’m available.”

“i’m going to kill you.”

“damn, first-degree murder? sounds like love to me.”

before you could launch a full-blown attack, your phone buzzed. you glanced at the screen. heeseung.

heeseung [1:07 PM]: library in 10? i found something that might help with your paper

you stared at the message a little too long.

jay leaned over, reading it before you could stop him. “oh my god.”

“shut up,” you snapped, standing up so fast your chair scraped against the floor.

jay watched you with an infuriatingly smug expression. “you’re so fucked.”

you flipped him off before walking away.

the library was quiet when you arrived, but you spotted heeseung immediately. he was leaning back in his chair, one hand flipping through a book, the other twirling a pen between his fingers.

you hesitated before walking over. “hey.”

he glanced up, smiling slightly. “you’re late.”

“by two minutes.”

“yeah. unacceptable.”

you rolled your eyes, plopping into the chair across from him. “you said you found something for my paper?”

he slid a book toward you. “this has a whole section on your topic. figured it might save you some time.”

you raised an eyebrow. “you’re being suspiciously helpful.”

“don’t get used to it,” he teased. “i like seeing you suffer, but i love proving that i’m smarter than you.”

“asshole,” you muttered, but there was no heat behind it.

heeseung just grinned.

and maybe jay was right. maybe you were so fucked.

if someone had told you six months ago that you’d willingly spend your free time with lee heeseung, you would’ve laughed in their face. maybe even fought them. but now? now you were waiting for him outside the library, scrolling mindlessly through your phone while he finished up an assignment.

this was getting out of hand.

"hey.”

you looked up to see heeseung walking toward you, backpack slung over one shoulder.

“took you long enough,” you muttered, shoving your phone into your pocket.

“relax, i was being productive,” he said, smirking. “you should try it sometime.”

“fuck you.”

“you wish.”

you scoffed, ignoring the way your stomach flipped at his words.

heeseung fell into step beside you as you both started heading toward the dining hall. this was becoming a weird habit—getting food together, studying together, exchanging notes without bickering. it was normal. and that was the problem.

you had no idea when the rivalry had started to feel less like a battle and more like an excuse to talk to him.

you shook the thought away.

“you’re spacing out,” heeseung said, nudging your shoulder.

you shot him a glare. “am not.”

“are too.”

“i hate you.”

heeseung grinned. “no, you don’t.”

before you could argue, a voice called out.

“ohhh, what’s this?”

you both turned to see sunghoon, jake, and jungwon standing a few feet away, watching with matching expressions of mischief.

jake gasped dramatically. “is this civil conversation i’m witnessing?”

“no way,” jungwon added. “they’re walking together without trying to kill each other.”

sunghoon grinned. “i knew all that tension wasn’t just hatred.”

you groaned, rubbing your temples. “you guys are so fucking annoying.”

heeseung just sighed. “let’s go before they start a conspiracy theory.”

but it was too late, jake had already pulled out his phone.

“this is groundbreaking,” he said, pretending to type. “i need to update the gc.”

you groaned. “jake, i swear to god—”

heeseung, on the other hand, didn’t seem phased. “you guys need a hobby.”

“this is our hobby,” jungwon said smugly.

“oh, absolutely,” sunghoon agreed. “we live for drama.”

you shot heeseung a look, but he just sighed and grabbed your wrist. “come on.”

you barely had time to process the sudden contact before he was tugging you away, leaving the three of them cackling behind you.

he didn’t let go until you reached the dining hall.

you cleared your throat, trying to ignore the way your skin still tingled where he’d touched you. “well. that was mortifying.”

“they’re insufferable,” heeseung muttered.

“and yet, they have a point.”

he glanced at you. “which is?”

you hesitated. were you really about to bring this up?

fuck it.

“this whole thing,” you said, gesturing vaguely between you two. “it’s not… normal.”

heeseung raised an eyebrow. “what, us not wanting to kill each other?”

“yes! i mean—no! i mean…” you exhaled sharply. “don’t you think it’s weird? one minute we’re at each other’s throats, and now we’re just—”

“friends?” he offered.

your stomach twisted. you didn’t like that word. not because it wasn’t true, but because it didn’t feel like the whole truth.

“sure,” you said weakly. “friends.”

heeseung studied you for a moment, something unreadable in his expression.

then he said, “well, that’s boring.”

you blinked. “what?”

“friends?” he repeated, tilting his head. “that’s so underwhelming.”

your heart stuttered. “what—what do you mean?”

heeseung smirked. “i mean, we could be so much more interesting than that.”

you stared at him. your brain was short-circuiting.

he took a step closer, and suddenly, the space between you felt way too small. “unless… you’re scared?”

your breath hitched. “scared?”

heeseung leaned in slightly, voice dropping. “of what this could be.”

your brain stalled.

“scared?” you echoed. “of what this could be?”

heeseung just looked at you, waiting.

you let out a breathless laugh. “oh, please. do you even hear yourself?”

“perfectly,” he said, still smirking.

“you’re joking.”

“am i?”

you crossed your arms. “yes. obviously.”

heeseung tilted his head, like he was considering something. “huh.”

“what?”

“nothing. just… i didn’t think you’d be so dense.”

your jaw dropped. “excuse me?”

he shrugged. “i thought it was pretty obvious. i like you.”

your stomach flipped. your heart flipped. but your brain? your brain was malfunctioning.

you narrowed your eyes. “okay, very funny.”

“i’m not joking.”

“yes, you are.”

heeseung sighed, dragging a hand through his hair. “why would i joke about this?”

“because this is what we do!” you gestured between you. “we mess with each other, we push each other’s buttons—this is just another game to you.”

heeseung exhaled sharply. “jesus, you really don’t get it.”

you frowned. “what is there to get?”

he gave you a look. “the fact that i genuinely like you, dumbass.”

your breath caught in your throat.

heeseung shook his head, almost frustrated. “do you think i’d just say this for fun? you piss me off like no one else, but you’re also the only person i actually want to be around. figure that out.”

you stared at him.

heeseung liked you. like, for real. like, not as a joke.

and you… you had spent the past five minutes laughing in his face.

fuck.

you were malfunctioning. actually, no—you were buffering. like a shitty internet connection that couldn’t load the page properly.

heeseung liked you. and instead of responding like a normal person, you had laughed in his face.

“heeseung,” you started, trying to find something to say. “i—”

“forget it.”

your stomach dropped. “wait, what?”

heeseung sighed, running a hand down his face. “look, if you don’t feel the same way, just say it. but don’t act like i’m joking just because you don’t want to deal with it.”

your throat went dry. “that’s not—”

“then what is it?”

he sounded tired. like he had finally run out of patience.

and it hit you, all at once.

you had spent so much time convincing yourself that this thing between you two was just rivalry—just banter and competition and winning—that you had completely ignored everything else.

how your heart always raced around him. how you always looked for him in a crowded room. how his approval meant way too much, how his insults stung just a little more, how he made you feel alive in a way no one else did.

you had been so sure that he was messing with you. because the alternative? the idea that he meant it? that was terrifying.

but now…

now you could see the way his shoulders were tense, like he was bracing himself. the way his hands were curled into fists, like he was trying to hold something in.

he wasn’t playing around.

he never was.

“heeseung,” you said, voice quieter now.

he didn’t say anything.

you took a step closer. “i’m sorry.”

his jaw tightened. “for what?”

“for acting like an idiot,” you admitted. “and for not realizing sooner.”

his eyes flicked up to yours, searching. “realizing what?”

you swallowed. “that i like you too.”

the words felt big. heavier than you expected. but at the same time, saying them felt like a weight lifting—like something settling into place.

heeseung blinked. his whole body went still.

then he exhaled a laugh, running a hand through his hair. “you are so fucking annoying.”

you rolled your eyes. “jesus, thank you, i was really hoping for that to be your first response—”

before you could finish, heeseung grabbed your wrist and pulled you into him, crashing his lips against yours.

it took you half a second to catch up, but once you did, you kissed him back just as fiercely, fingers tangling in his hoodie.

heeseung smiled against your lips. “took you long enough.”

you huffed. “shut up.”

he hummed, pulling back just enough to look at you. “make me.”

AUTHORS NOTE: wait i lowkey hate this IM SORRY IF ITS BAD

© callikari -- all rights reserved

[cherryxbooo]

Yeah, I’m the lucky one

Summary: Hiding it when you're sick from your boyfriend is one thing, but hiding it from your clingy boyfriend is a whole other challenge.

Reader x Lando Norris

Genre: fluff

The paddock is alive with energy, buzzing with anticipation, the sound of engines roaring in the distance, and the hum of the crowd outside.

Lando is in his element, calm yet radiating an excitement that’s palpable.

The focus in his eyes is like nothing I’ve ever seen, and it’s clear that today matters more to him than most.

The weight of the race, the pressure of the expectations, and the fire in his heart are all simmering beneath the surface.

It's a mix of raw determination and adrenaline, and it brings out the best in him.

But me? Well, I feel the complete opposite.

I woke up feeling off, my head pounding and my body aching with a fever I couldn't shake.

I knew I should stay in bed, but I couldn’t. Not today.

Not with everything he’s worked for. I couldn’t let something as trivial as being sick get in the way of him having the best race of his career.

He’s been talking about this day for weeks, getting ready for it with an intensity that I’ve only seen in the world of motorsport.

But as I made my way through the paddock, trying my best to act normal, I felt the weight of my own discomfort pulling me down.

I’ve been silently counting the minutes until I can just crawl into a quiet corner and hide.

But the last thing I want is for him to see me like this. He’d immediately worry, go into panic mode, and lose focus.

Lando, with his big heart, would put everything aside just to take care of me, and I don’t want to do that to him.

Not today. Today is about him.

As I stand next to his family, making small talk with his friends, I feel dizzy.

The lights are a little too bright, and the sounds a little too loud.

I try to steady myself, offering a weak smile whenever someone glances my way, but the effort feels exhausting.

Lando’s mum catches my eye, and for a brief moment, I see a flicker of concern in her expression.

But she doesn’t say anything, just gives me a warm, reassuring smile. I’m grateful, but I can tell she knows something’s off.

Then, out of nowhere, I feel a familiar hand on my back. A small shiver runs down my spine as I turn to face Lando, and I instantly feel a warmth spread through me, despite the fever still creeping in.

“Hey baby, you okay?” His voice is soft, but there’s a sharpness in his eyes, like he’s always aware of everything around him, especially me.

I don’t want to worry him. I can’t.

So I give him a smile that’s more practiced than I’d like to admit,

“Yeah, just a little tired. Big day, huh?”

Lando raises an eyebrow, clearly not buying it.

He studies me for a second, his gaze lingering a little longer than usual, his hand gently squeezing my back.

The touch is warm, comforting. “You sure? You don’t look so great.”

“I’m fine,” I assure him, leaning in to press a soft kiss to his cheek.

“You focus on the race. I’m just here to cheer you on.”

Lando hesitates, his lips pressed into a thin line as if trying to gauge if I’m really okay.

But then he nods slowly, though his concern doesn’t quite vanish.

“Alright… but if you need anything, you let me know, okay?”

His voice is almost a whisper, like he’s trying not to give away just how much he cares.

“I will,” I promise, trying to keep my tone light and convincing.

But as he walks away to prepare for the race, a sense of loneliness settles over me.

The noise around me feels overwhelming, and the crowd only amplifies the ache in my head.

I find a quiet corner, away from the chaos, hoping to just breathe for a moment.

I didn't realize that I had been hiding away for a while already.

But before I know it, Lando’s voice cuts through the distance.

“You’ve been hiding from me.”

I turn to see him standing there, leaning against the wall, arms crossed with a playful smirk tugging at the corner of his lips.

His presence alone seems to calm the storm inside me.

“I wasn’t hiding,” I protest weakly, though my voice cracks just slightly.

“Just… taking a break.���

Lando raises an eyebrow, clearly not buying it.

“Taking a break from what? From me?”

He takes a step closer, his hand reaching out to gently touch my cheek, his fingers warm against my skin.

I close my eyes for a second, leaning into the touch, even though I feel like I might collapse at any moment.

“From the chaos of the paddock,” I admitted softly, my voice barely above a whisper.

His gaze softens, the teasing in his eyes fading. He steps in closer, his body brushing against mine as he gently cups my face with both hands, forcing me to meet his eyes.

“Hey…” His voice is tender now, a deep, comforting lull.

“Are you really feeling okay love?"

I swallow hard, the lump in my throat suddenly unbearable.

“Yes, don't worry Lan. I'm fine.”

I whisper, my voice slightly breaking as I fight the urge to lean on him completely.

I stare up at him, feeling a mix of love and pain.

I don’t want to be the one who holds him back, but I can’t deny how much I crave the support and warmth he gives me without even thinking.

Lando lowers his hands, but not without giving me one last comforting touch, his fingers brushing my wrist.

“You need to rest,” he says firmly, but there’s a hint of playfulness behind his words now.

“I’m not going to let you make it through today without me taking care of you at least once.”

I laugh softly, despite the dizziness still swirling in my head.

“I’m fine, Lando. You go be amazing out there.”

He looks at me, his eyes soft but filled with determination. “I will be. But only because you’re here.”

Before I can say anything else, he leans in, planting a gentle kiss on my forehead.

“I’ll be right back, okay? I’ll make sure to get at least P3 for you.”

And with that, he’s gone, disappearing into the crowd of engineers and teammates.

But the moment he’s out of sight, I feel my energy drain completely.

Regardless of how I felt I still made my way to the rest so I could support Lando and be there for him.

Everywhere I look, there’s movement, excitement, and a sense of urgency.

Lando’s already suited up and surrounded by his team, getting ready to focus on the race that could mean everything for his career.

I’m supposed to be the one cheering him on, being his support, his calm, but instead, all I can do is try to survive the overwhelming wave of heat coursing through me.

Every few seconds, my head spins, my chest feels like it's on fire, and the nausea rolls in like a tide.

It’s getting harder to keep it together, but I’m trying. I can’t let anything distract him.

I can't make this his problem today, not when he’s been working so hard for this moment.

I take a seat next to Max and Pietra, hoping the three of us can keep the mood light and give Lando a little peace before he heads into the race.

I force myself to laugh at Max's joke about the weather, but it comes out more like a wheeze.

My throat feels like it’s coated in something dry and scratchy, and each breath feels like I’m not getting enough air.

Max doesn’t notice, but Pietra does.

She’s always been that way, observant, kind, and so very perceptive.

I’ve always admired how in tune she is with people.

She shifts in her seat beside me, her eyes narrowing as she studies my face.

“You okay, Y/n?” she asks gently, her voice laced with concern.

“You look a little pale.”

I immediately try to put on a smile, but it feels like the most exhausting thing I’ve done all day.

“I’m fine, really,” I say, hoping I can convince her.

“Just a little tired. I didn’t sleep well last night.”

Pietra doesn’t buy it, not even for a second.

She leans in closer, her gaze steady as she inspects my face, my trembling hands.

“You sure?” she presses, her brow furrowing.

“You don’t look fine. Maybe you should lay down for a bit?”

The room suddenly feels like it’s closing in on me.

The dizziness that had been simmering beneath the surface is starting to take hold, and it’s all I can do to keep my eyes focused on her.

I swallow hard, trying to push the wave of nausea down, but it’s impossible to ignore now.

I nod weakly, doing my best to stay composed.

“I’m okay, Pietra. Just... a little dizzy. I think I’ll sit down for a moment.”

Max, still glued to his phone, glances up briefly, probably sensing the shift in the air.

His eyes scan me quickly before he leans closer to Pietra, muttering something under his breath, probably about how pale I look.

I’m about to wave it off, to reassure them both that it’s nothing, when Pietra’s soft hand touches my shoulder.

It’s warm and grounding, her touch gentle but insistent.

“No, you’re not okay, Y/n,” she says firmly.

“You’re not fooling me. You need to go back to the hotel and rest. Max and I will handle everything here. Don’t worry about Lando. He’ll understand. He doesn’t need to know right now, and you’re not helping him by pretending you’re fine.”

My heart clenches at her words. I don’t want to leave. I don’t want to make him worry.

He’s about to race, about to compete for something so important to him.

The last thing I want is to make this about me. But Pietra’s expression leaves no room for argument.

Her hand squeezes my shoulder, and I feel a wave of guilt hit me hard.

“I... I can’t just leave,” I whisper, my voice shaky.

“I don’t want him to—”

“Y/n,” Pietra interrupts, her voice soft but full of authority.

“Lando will be fine. He’ll be more upset if you stay here, pretending to be okay when you’re not. Let us take care of everything. He doesn’t need the distraction. He needs you to get better, not to keep pretending.”

I shake my head, still fighting it. “But he’s going to think I don’t care.”

“He knows you care. You don’t have to prove it by running yourself into the ground,” she says, her tone firm yet reassuring.

“You need to listen to your body. Max and I can make sure everything’s fine here.”

I hesitate for a moment, my vision swimming in and out of focus, and then I feel it, the dizziness getting worse.

My stomach turns violently, and I barely suppress a gasp. Before I can protest, Pietra’s up and at my side, helping me stand.

“Max,” she calls out to him, her voice tinged with urgency.

Max looks up from his phone, his attention now fully on us. He doesn’t need to ask questions.

Without a word, he stands, motions to security, and gestures for them to clear a path.

“We’re getting you back to the hotel,” Max says, his voice gentle but decisive.

“No arguments.”

I open my mouth to protest, to tell them I’m fine, but the dizziness overtakes me again.

I feel my legs wobble, my knees threatening to give way beneath me. The nausea is so strong now that I can’t hold it back any longer.

My head feels like it’s filled with cotton, and my heart races as I fight to keep everything together.

“Okay,” I whisper, too weak to resist any longer. “Okay, let’s go.”

Max’s arm wraps around my shoulder, steadying me as Pietra follows closely behind.

I glance over my shoulder at the paddock, seeing the hustle and bustle of the team preparing for the race.

And even though I want nothing more than to stay and support Lando, I know Pietra’s right, he doesn’t need to see me like this.

As we make our way out of the paddock, past the busy crew and excited fans, the world seems to blur again.

All I can think about is Lando, how much he’s worked for this, and how much I wish I could be there cheering him on.

But right now, all I can do is focus on getting back to the hotel and trying to heal.

“Everything’s going to be fine,” Pietra murmurs, sensing my anxiety.

“Lando will understand. We’ll make sure he stays focused.”

“Thank you,” I whisper back, squeezing her hand.

Max looks over at me, offering a reassuring smile.

“No problem, Y/n. We’ve got you.”

And as they guide me toward the exit, the sound of the engines roaring to life in the distance feels far away, almost like a distant memory.

All I can focus on is putting one foot in front of the other and hoping that, by the time Lando crosses the finish line, I’ll be okay.

Meanwhile,

The race was intense, there was no other way to describe it.

Lando’s heart was pounding, his breath coming in quick bursts as he fought to stay focused on the track ahead.

Each corner, each straightaway felt like it mattered more than the last.

The roar of the engine under him, the vibration in his hands as he gripped the wheel,it was like the world was screaming at him to push harder, to get everything he had into every lap.

And he did.

Adrenaline was coursing through his veins, the world outside of his car becoming a blur of colors and sounds.

But amidst the chaos, there was something else tugging at his mind, something he couldn’t quite shake.

Just before the race started, he had caught sight of Y/n sitting among their friends, looking beautiful as always, but something was... off.

Maybe it was the way she had looked at him, her tired eyes betraying a sense of exhaustion that didn’t quite match the energy of the day.

Or how quiet she seemed, like a flicker of something hidden behind her usual smile. He couldn’t pinpoint it, but something wasn’t right.

But there was no time for that.

He pushed those thoughts away, focusing back on the race, his hands steady on the wheel as he navigated the track with everything he had.

He couldn’t afford to think about anything but the next corner, the next lap, the next move.

And when he crossed the finish line, the elation of victory should’ve been enough to make everything feel perfect.

After all, he had gotten P2.

The cheers, the confetti, the roar of the crowd, it was everything he’d been working for, everything he’d dreamed of.

But in the midst of it all, he couldn’t shake the nagging thought of Y/n.

His gaze searched the area, instinctively looking for her.

He was surrounded by teammates, sponsors, friends, but all he wanted in that moment was to see her smile, to know she was okay.

He scanned the area again, but she wasn’t there.

Not where he had left her. His stomach tightened, his mind racing. Something wasn’t right.

Lando quickly moved through the crowd, dodging everyone on his way, his eyes darting between faces, searching for any sign of her.

He was so focused on finding her, he almost didn’t see Max and Pietra standing off to the side.

When he finally noticed them, his heart skipped a beat. You weren't there.

Lando’s pace quickened as he approached them, his voice betraying the worry he couldn’t hide.

“Where’s Y/n?” he asked, his words coming out sharper than he intended.

Pietra exchanged a glance with Max before she sighed, the look on her face telling Lando everything he needed to know.

"She wasn’t feeling well," she said softly, her eyes clouded with concern.

"We had to send her back to the hotel."

Lando’s chest tightened, a heavy weight settling over him.

His pulse quickened, the sudden rush of guilt and worry clouding his thoughts.

“Why didn’t you tell me?” The words slipped out before he could stop them, his voice rising slightly, not in anger, but in genuine confusion.

Max stepped forward, his expression calm but serious.

"Mate she didn’t want to distract you. She said it was important not to take your focus away from the race."

Lando’s mind was spinning now, the elation of his victory evaporating as quickly as it had come.

Guilt was flooding him, he couldn’t believe Y/n had been struggling, that she’d hidden it from him.

She’d always been there for him, supportive, understanding, even when he was caught up in his own world.

And now, he couldn’t shake the feeling that he’d let her down.

He took a deep breath, trying to steady himself, but the weight of the situation was suffocating.

He didn’t know what to say.

All he could think about was how she had been sitting there, probably feeling miserable, and he hadn’t even noticed.

The race, his career, all of it felt so insignificant compared to the thought of Y/n being alone and sick.

“Why didn’t she just tell me? I would’ve understood. I could’ve—”

Pietra stepped forward, her hand gently resting on his arm, grounding him in the moment.

“Lando, she didn’t want you to worry. She knew how much today meant to you. She didn’t want to take that away from you.”

Max nodded in agreement.

“She’s always there for you. But she’s not the type to let herself be a distraction, not when you’re in the zone like that. You know how she is, she cares about you more than anything, but she didn’t want to pull you away from your focus.”

Lando let out a long breath, feeling like the weight of the world was pressing down on his chest.

“I should’ve noticed,” he muttered, his gaze dropping to the ground.

"I should’ve been paying more attention."

"You’re not a mind reader, Lando," Pietra said, her voice calm but firm.

Lando realized that she was right.

He quickly greeted the rest of his family and did some other duties before changing and heading back to the hotel.

Lando arrived at the hotel room, his body still buzzing from the race, but his mind consumed by a different kind of worry.

As soon as he entered, the first thing he did was quietly close the door behind him.

The soft hum of the air conditioning and the dim light from the lamps were the only sounds in the room.

His eyes immediately fell on your figure, still asleep, your peaceful face glowing softly under the sheets.

The sight of you, so vulnerable yet so beautiful, made his heart ache with both affection and guilt.

He quietly pulled a chair from the small desk and sat down beside the bed, never taking his eyes off you.

He wanted to be close to his girl, but he didn’t want to wake you.

He knew you needed rest, but the worry of the day, the worry about you, hadn’t let up.

He reached out, brushing a lock of hair from your face.

His fingers lingered there for a second before he let out a soft breath, resting his chin in his hand, his elbow on his knee.

He could almost hear the questions running through his mind, wondering why you hadn’t told him what you had been feeling.

He could feel the weight of your absence, the quiet ache in his chest from not knowing exactly what had been going on with you.

The minutes seemed to stretch on, each tick of the clock amplifying his thoughts.

He hated this uncertainty, this feeling that something had been left unsaid.

Then, after what felt like forever, a soft groan escaped from your lips, and Lando’s attention snapped to her immediately.

Your eyes fluttered open, blinking against the dim light in the room.

Your gaze slowly focused on him, confusion settling on her face as she took in her surroundings.

Lando watched her with a mix of relief and concern, his heart lightening at the sight of you waking up but still heavy with the questions that lingered in his mind.

"Hey, sleepyhead," Lando said softly, his voice full of warmth and affection.

My vision cleared, and I smiled sleepily at him.

Lando’s heart squeezed.

"You’re awake. I’ve been here waiting for you to wake up for, like, ages now." He chuckled softly, though his eyes were still filled with concern.

"But seriously… why didn’t you tell me?"

I sighed, feeling the weight of everything pressing on me.

My hand reached for his, finding his fingers weakly, and I squeezed them, my fingers trembling a bit.

"I didn’t want to be a burden," I admitted, my voice barely above a whisper.

"I didn’t want to ruin your day or take away from the race. It was important to you. I just… I didn’t want to distract you."

Lando smiled at me softly, his thumb gently stroking the back of my hand.

"You’re never a burden, Y/n." He looked at me with such sincerity, it made my heart ache in the best way.

"You are always my priority, okay? Not the race, not the fans, not the win. You. Always."

I felt my heart flutter at his words, my eyes softening as I looked back at him.

The tears I’d been holding back threatened to spill, and I could feel them welling up.

Being sick just makes people extra emotional, give it a break yeah?

"I’m sorry," I murmured, my voice breaking slightly.

Lando shook his head, his heart aching.

He leaned closer, cupping my cheek gently, his thumb brushing over my skin.

"You don’t have to apologize," he whispered.

"You never have to hide anything from me, especially not when it comes to you."

I felt the weight of his words, the tenderness in his touch, and I wanted so badly to just melt into him.

I was so grateful for him, for the way he always made me feel safe, loved, and heard.

Lando sat beside me on the bed, leaning back just enough to grab the water and medicine he’d set out earlier.

"You need to drink this," he said softly, his voice gentle but firm.

"Get some rest, and I’ll be right here with you. Just take it easy."

I hesitated for a moment, but then reached for the glass of water he held out to me.

My fingers were still shaking slightly, but I took it from him gratefully.

There was a small, tired smile on my lips as I drank, and Lando’s eyes never left me.

He was watching me closely, making sure I was okay. It felt nice to be looked after this way.

After I finished the water, Lando sat back down next to me again, his hand finding mine once more.

"You don’t ever have to hide something like that from me, okay?" he said, his voice soft but serious.

"If something’s wrong, you have to tell me. Promise me you’ll tell me next time."

I looked up at him, my eyes full of emotion, and I nodded slowly.

The tears I’d been holding back finally spilled over, and I felt a few of them slide down my cheeks.

Before I could say anything, Lando quickly wiped them away with his thumb, his touch light, tender.

"I’m sorry," I whispered again, my voice barely audible.

He slightly laughed, "You're such a crybaby when you're sick babe."

Lando leaned down and pressed a soft kiss to my forehead, his lips lingering there for a moment.

"You don’t have to apologize," he said, his voice full of love and affection.

"I love you, baby. I love you, and that’s all that matters." His voice was quiet but strong, filled with reassurance.

I pulled him closer, resting my head against his chest, letting out a small, exaggerated sigh.

"Mmm, this is the best pillow ever," I mumbled, half-laughing, half-groaning in exhaustion.

Lando wrapped his arms around me, pulling me in tighter.

His chin rested on top of my head, and he chuckled softly.

"You come first," he said with a mock-serious tone, trying to sound all deep and dramatic.

"Always."

I snuggled in a little closer, feeling his warmth.

"Oh, I know now," I said, glancing up at him with a grin.

"You’re basically my personal butler, aren’t you? Always there when I need you."

He let out a dramatic gasp. "But of course! My whole existence is to serve you, my queen."

I rolled my eyes, fighting back a laugh.

"Thank you for being here," I said, the words half-sweet, half-teasing.

Lando smirked, pressing a kiss to my hair.

"Please don't cry again... and well yeah, where else would I be? I’m not going anywhere."

Then, with a mischievous twinkle in his eye, he added,

"Besides, you’ve got me wrapped around your finger. You know that, right?"

I couldn’t help but laugh lightly, feeling him grin against the top of my head.

"Oh, I know," I said, playfully tapping his chest.

"You're my big soft marshmallow. I practically own you."

Lando chuckled, his arms tightening around me. "You absolutely do. And you’re not even sorry about it."

I smirked, rolling my eyes. "Well, I am your number one priority, aren’t I?"

His eyes sparkled with affection, and he pulled me a little closer.

"You’re my number one everything, Y/n. No competition."

I snorted, unable to help the grin that spread across my face.

"Good. Glad we’re clear on that."

As we sat there, wrapped up in each other, the world outside felt miles away.

All that mattered was us, his heartbeat, my tired sighs, and the way we fit together like we’d always been meant to.

For a moment, everything else faded, and all I could think was: Yeah, I’m the lucky one.

The end