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hwanghoes · 2 days ago

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Just The Tip!

Summary: a night spent in your house with careless flirting with your dad’s best friend leads to moral boundaries being crossed and you beneath him.

Warnings: 18+ mdni! Smut, p in v, just the tip that leads to more, he covers her mouth with his hand, age gap (Inho is in his mid 40s and reader mid 20s), dad best friend trope, alcohol consumption for both of them, making out, English isn’t my first language<3

Word count: 5.2k+

Note: welcome to our first fic on this blog! This is Rue and you’re reading a fic written by me and beta-read by my bestie Mari who is also an admin on here! We both write and co-write each other’s fics and run this blog together! I hope you enjoy our first post here. Remember that comments and reblogs are always appreciated💕

“Get your pens, baby!” Gi-Hun yells from downstairs, frantically looking around the house for his daughter’s pens to pack her things and drop her back at her mother’s place.

His hysteria causes you to worry too, collecting your sister’s clothes from around the house in a hurry so she can leave on time without worrying her mother — it is quite funny, calling her your sister. In contrast, you call your adoptive father by his name. Perhaps she has made a place in your heart much faster than Gi-Hun.

“Found them, Daddy!” She squeals and smiles when she sees you, jumping up and down as she raises her fists for you to grab the pens and put them in one of the many bags you are holding. “I’m gonna miss you!”

“I’m gonna miss you too, sweetie!” You kiss her forehead, letting her drop her stuff in the bag you’re holding out for her before she dashes downstairs to help her father, leaving you to pick up the rest of her stuff, “Slow down!”

“Sweetheart,” Gi-Hun calls you, looking up when you walk towards them with two bags slung over your shoulders, “I don’t know if In-ho will come tonight or not, but could you please look out for him until I get back? Just make sure he doesn’t feel uncomfortable.”

“Of course, don’t worry about it,” you smile, dropping the bags on the couch, helping your father gather the rest of your sister’s belongings, and frantically chasing the little girl around to make sure she doesn’t destroy another part of the house. She is trying to help, she really is, but sometimes her enthusiasm gets the best of her and no one can control her antics.

With a sigh, Gi-Hun stands up and follows her to her room, leaving you alone to take care of the rest of her stuff in the sitting room, putting her coloring books and pencils in one of the bags before you hear the sound of the doorbell ringing.

“Coming!” You say when the doorbell rings again, walking to the front door to open it, smiling softly when you find In-ho standing there with a bouquet of white lilies, patiently waiting for you to invite him in, “Hey!”

“Hello, darling,” he beams at you, the pet name rolling on his tongue so smoothly that makes your knees weak, “I thought I should come here and keep you company while your father’s gone.”

“Thank you, I really appreciate it—“ you are cut off by a loud grumbling noise coming from upstairs, showing how your father and sister are trying their best to find her socks so they can finally leave, “You arrived in the middle of the chaos.”

“Oh, no,” he says playfully, “I think I should leave before–“

“No, uh uh,” you pull him in by his free hand, chuckling when he shoots you a glare but lets you guide him inside, shutting the door behind him. You turn around to look at him, crossing your arms over your chest when you see the shocked look on his face as he scans the mess in your house, “Don’t worry, they’ll be gone in a few minutes.”

“I’m not worried about myself,” he shrugs, taking off his shoes, and pushing them to the corner next to the wall, “More worried for you because he is about to leave you with these to deal with.”

“Who says I’m gonna clean up after them?” You say, eyeing the bouquet he is holding, pursing your lips before you ask, “Going on a date, are you?”

“No,” he chuckles, making the blood rush to your cheeks, his warm brown orbs finding yours as he smiles softly, “These are for you, actually.”

“What?” You sigh slowly, looking from his eyes to the bouquet he is extended in front of you, lips parted in surprise as he hands you the flowers, “Thank you, you didn’t have to.”

“I wanted to,” he pats your head, walking past you towards the sitting room, nearly tripping over the legos spread on the floor, “I could leave if you have a lot to do. Handling a kid can’t be easy.”

“Would you please sit down? I won’t do anything, I swear, besides, I’m not the one handling a child. It’s Gi-Hun’s job,” you say, parting ways with him, moving towards the Kitchen to put the flowers in the water, placing the bouquet on the counter as you grab a vase and fill it, and gently lowering the flowers into the water after you pick them up.

“I hope you like them,” In-ho exclaims, following you in the kitchen and leaning on the counter, resting his weight on his hips and looking at you with a soft expression, “I didn’t have time to buy your father anything so I picked these up on my way here.”

“You don’t have to buy us anything,” you tell him, putting the vase between the two of you on the counter, standing in front of him, taking a good look at his attire — a light blue shirt with the first two buttons undone and bright beige pants that made him look more attractive in the eyes, completed by a brown bracelet on his left hand.

You look away from him as soon as you hear the rushed footsteps of your father and sister on the stairs, clearing your throat when Gi-Hun comes in to say goodbye to you.

“Hey, man,” he laughs softly, patting In-ho on the shoulder, “You didn’t tell me you were coming! We would have prepared something for you.”

“It’s all good,” In-ho smiles back, glancing from his friend to you, his smile widening slightly as he looks at you before he turns back to your father, “I’ve been here a thousand times, you don’t need to do anything.”

“Yeah, well, please enjoy yourself while I’m gone,” Gi-Hun turns to you, looking at you with a soft expression on his face, “I’ll be back in an hour or so, think of something to get for dinner on my way home, yeah?”

“Will do,” you reply, walking out of the kitchen to say goodbye to your little sister, bending down to hug her tightly, “Be good for your mom, okay? I’m gonna miss you so much.”

“I’m gonna miss you too!” She wraps her little arms around you, hugging you tightly before Gi-Hun and In-ho come into sight, your father picking up the numerous bags. Your sister lets go of you and grabs Gi-Hun’s free hand, waving goodbye as they walk to the door, “Goodbye sister! Goodbye Uncle In-ho!”

“Goodbye, little one,” In-ho waves back, helping you on your feet with a steady hand grabbing your arm, pulling you to his side with ease, the muscles under his shirt bulging with every movement of his hand.

“Okay,” you stumble on your feet a little, grounding yourself by a hand on his shoulder as you both say your goodbyes to Gi-Hun, “Drive safe!”

In-ho sighs as soon as the chaotic duo leave the house, running a hand down his face before he glances at your tired face. He smirks when he catches you dropping your forehead on his shoulder, exhaling deeply as the exhaustion overtakes you.

“Poor girl,” he mocks you a little, his tone soft and playful, “He must be working you out all the time, yeah?”

“Don’t remind me,” you groan, resting your cheek on his chest now under his chin, breathing in his cold, calm and smoky cologne, shuddering suddenly when he rests his palm on your waist to hold you close, “I love them both so much, but handling them at the same time is not for the weak.”

You can feel him lean down a bit, resting his cheek on your head as he lets you calm down a little. He gently rubs your back up and down while he listens to your soft breathing, closing his eyes and smelling the sweet scent of your perfume — just like how you are breathing in him.

“Thank you,” you pull away, your gaze meeting his piercing ones, and to your shock, he holds your eyes in an intense eye contact, staring deep into your orbs with the most captivating look he possesses. You swallow loudly, clearly flustered by the little distance left between you before you pat his chest lightly and untangle yourself from his embrace, moving towards the kitchen, “Do you want a drink?”

“Urm, yeah, please,” he clears his throat and follows you, pushing his hands into his pants pockets, watching as you shuffle around the fridge, pulling out two bottles of beer, “You don’t have any whiskey around?”

“I do, but it’s Gi-Hun’s bottles, you know how protective he is of his booze,” you explain, putting the cold bottles on the round table in the kitchen, opening a cabinet to pull out a bag of nuts for him to eat with his drink, “Make yourself at home!”

“Thank you, darling,” he says, sitting down in front of you, grabbing the bottle in his hand while he watches you sigh and sit, “Fuck, sorry, let me grab a—”

You don’t even have the chance to finish your sentence because he grabs the glass bottle and brings it to his mouth, putting the lid between his teeth before he pops the lid and slides the bottle towards you, holding the other one to open his own, taking a long swig from his drink.

“Wow,” you chuckle, taking a sip from your own beer, eyes twinkling with mischief, “You really like showing off your useless talents.”

“Useless? I opened your beer with my teeth so you wouldn’t have to move and you call it useless? Ungrateful brat,” He smirks at you, hiding his smile behind his bottle when you gasp and snort, shaking your head in disapproval.

“I’m not a brat because I don’t find your strong teeth charming,” You lean back on your chair, crossing one leg over the other, watching him closely as his eyes drift down your figure before he looks away quickly, busying himself with the cold beverage he has in hand, “Maybe a brat because I didn’t thank you, but still, I’ve been nothing but a good host so far.”

“Giving me a bag of nuts doesn’t make you a good host, darling,” he shrugs, chuckling softly when he hears your groan, “I'm sure your father has lots of snacks to nurse on with his drinks.”

“You’ll be shocked to know he doesn’t buy anything, our fridge is almost empty every day,” You sigh, leaning on the table, subconsciously pushing your chest closer to each other, making it so much harder for In-ho to keep his composure and not let his eyes slide down from your face, “I usually do the grocery shopping because he is lazy and has no idea what to buy. Unfortunately, we had his daughter over this week, so everything I bought is now gone.”

“Poor girl, perhaps you should come live with me, at least I can cook,” In-ho says, leaning forward, pushing the sleeves of his bright blue shirt up to his elbows before resting his upper body on the table like you, and has to stop himself from smirking when he sees your eyes fall onto his thick forearms before you look away and meet his eyes, “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing,” you clear your throat, shrugging and trying to act as if the simplest action of him doesn’t have you all hot and bothered, “Just thinking of what you can cook. Ramen, right?”

“Cheeky,” he laughs, straightening himself before he rests his back on the chair, spreading his legs before he adjusts his pants, his eyes never leaving yours, “That’s your dad’s specialty. I can cook anything you would like.”

“Really? Like what?” You lean down on the back of your hands, resting your palms on the table as you look at him, watching how his Adam’s apple bobs with every sip he takes, licking his pink lips after he finishes his bottle.

“Whatever you can think of.”

“I don’t want food, what can you buy for me?” You ask, grinning at him when he throws his head back and laughs, giving you a view of his long neck, “I’m serious! You have tons of money, why don’t you spend it on gifts for others?”

“I got you flowers, is that not enough for you, darling?” He smirks, licking his bottom lip as he stands up to get another bottle for himself, making you turn around and watch him closely as he bends down to grab his drink, then standing next to you while showing off his useless talent again and opening his beer, “What do you want?”

“A car would be a nice start,” You roll your eyes and chuckle when he shakes his head and cocks and eyebrow at you, “You said anything, I’m just listening to you.”

“Now you wanna be a good girl? Well, I am not complaining,” he replies, scoffing when you grin up at him, “Come on, something more achievable, darling.”

“And what if I don’t want anything else?” You ask, eyes not leaving his warm brown irises for a second, “Besides, you said anything, that word does not have a limit.”

“Don’t make me regret coming over,” he mutters, reaching to tilt your chin upward with his pointer finger, leaning down as well to get closer to you, “If it’s a car you want, a car you’ll get, but it doesn’t really benefit me now, does it?”

“Why should it benefit you?” You say with a strained voice, shaky and already out of breath as he keeps your chin up and leans down even more, “It’s a gift, not a favor.”

“Darling,” he mutters, his thumb coming to rest on top of your chin, pinching it lightly between his digits, “Do you think I don’t deserve a thank you if I give you a car? Are you that ungrateful?”

“I—“ You bite your lip, and with each second that passes, it gets harder to look into his eyes. There are too many feelings swirling in them, flooding his deep chocolate colored orbs with an intensity you have never seen before, “Maybe I am.”

“Too bad—“

This is the first time you get the urge to punch someone in the face — because not only do you hear the sound of keys jingling, you can hear your father cursing under his breath as he tries to open the door.

In-ho is quick to pull himself away from you, leaving you frowning and seething at your father. He tries to act nonchalant, none the wiser, walking towards the door with one hand in his pocket to say hi to Gi-hun.

“Welcome back.”

“Ah! I see you have made yourself at home!” Gi-hun grunts as he holds the numerous bags of food in one hand while he shuts the door, gesturing for In-ho to come and save the day, “You didn’t tell me what you wanted, kiddo. I just bought the food from the nearest restaurant.”

“It’s okay, thank you! I totally forgot to call you earlier about it,” you give him an awkward smile, trying to seem engaged in another work so he doesn’t notice the lack of plates and the empty beer bottles on the table, but it seems In-ho beats you to it and tells your father everything.

“We started without you,” In-ho sighs, gently laying the bags on the dining table where you were sitting and immediately starts unpacking them, “I was pretty thirsty and asked for a drink. I thought she’d give me something stronger, but beer had to do.”

“As if I could touch any of my father’s expensive bottles,” You stand up as well, helping the men to pull out the food boxes, taking each of them out before disposing of the bags, sitting down next to In-ho as Gi-hun sits in front of you both.

“Beer won’t do!” Your father stands up and walks to the cupboard next to the fridge, pulling out a large bottle of whiskey with two glasses, finally coming back to the table to pour the amber liquor for himself and his guest, “C’mon! Enjoy the night with us!”

“I will,” In-ho replies, grabbing his glass as he and Gi-hun clink their glasses together, turning his gaze to you before he says, “I already am.”

You do not dare to utter a word, you simply can’t say anything. His eyes are piercing into yours with a burning passion one has yet to see, and it seems he is also getting lost in the gaze, shaking his head as soon as he hears Gi-hun talking.

You try to keep up with their conversation, interrupting them here and there to not get bored for the rest of the night. Unfortunately, whatever they are talking about is not nearly as interesting as In-ho’s thigh brushing against yours — With how distracted you were, you have no idea when he decided to move his chair closer to you.

You can’t hear what Gi-hun says, but In-ho’s laugh echoes in the house, and with a rising heartbeat, you turn your head to look at him; his eyes are closed, lips parted as the deep sound of his laughter fills your ears, and to your dismay, he looks at you, the laughter turned into a soft smile.

“Right, folks, I don’t think I can keep up with you anymore. That little girl exhausted me to my bones,” Gi-hun sighs, running a hand over his face, “I can’t keep up with you tonight unfortunately.”

“Don’t worry, I’ll clean up, goodnight,” you smile at your father, waving back as he stands up to leave. You watch as In-ho does the same, standing up to leave before Gi-hun stops him.

“Where are you going? We have a guest room for a reason, I won’t let you drive at such an hour while you’re drunk.”

“No, it’s better to leave, besides I’d hate to keep up your girl—“

“It’s no problem, really,” you cut him off unexpectedly, catching his wrist under the table before he has the chance to fully straighten his back, pulling on his hand slightly so he can sit down again, “I don’t really sleep at this hour, so yeah, I can keep you company.”

“See? She’s a life saver!” Gi-hun says and finally turns his back to the two of you, “Goodnight! Don’t stay up too late!”

“Of course,” In-ho nods and sits down without brushing your touch off, watching as his friend walks upstairs to his room, leaving you alone inside the dimly lit kitchen. He turns his head to look at you, suddenly the distance between the chairs seems nonexistent, “What was that all about?”

“What?” You ask, dumbfounded and skin burning against him the longer you hold on to his hand, “What…What do you mean?”

“I mean, darling…” he gently pulls your hand off his wrist and puts his palm on your upper thigh, gently squeezing the flesh as he leans closer, “Do you really like spending time with me that much? I’m honored.”

“I…I do,” you whisper, lips parting in surprise when he tightens his grip on your thigh, his hand moving upper slowly, “In-ho, what are you doing?”

“Something you are clearly enjoying, am I wrong?” He leans closer, nudging your cheek with his nose, and he catches your eyes falling down to his lips, “Fuck, you’re killing me.”

He doesn’t let you respond. Instead, he closes the distance between the two of you slowly, pressing his lips to yours very softly, giving you enough time to pull away — but you don’t. You take your time kissing him, softly moving your lips while he nibbles on your bottom lip, his free hand moving to your waist to pull you closer.

The kiss is everything you have ever imagined; it is warm and makes you melt with how heat radiates from the sync movements of your lips. You feel him tilt his head to deepen the kiss, gently sinking his teeth down onto your bottom lip while his hand on your waist pulls you and your chair closer to him, making a loud, unbearable noise.

“Shhh,” you break the kiss and giggle shyly, “We can’t wake up Gi-hun.”

“Fuck, you’re right—“ he pulls away as if you have said something that hurt him deeply, “We shouldn’t be doing this.”

“What? No! I—“ you cup his face in your hands, making sure he is looking at you and not hiding his face, “I didn’t mean it like that. I want to do this, my father will never know about this, I promise.”

“We can’t, darling,” he kisses your forehead, his hand coming up to caress your head, “It is wrong, not only am I your father’s closest friend, but I am also twice your age—“

“I don’t care,” you peck his lips and to your surprise, he kisses back, “I need you, I don’t have the strength to keep away.”

“Stop talking—“

He silences you by kissing you, grabbing your waist to pull you into his lap, now both hands resting on your hips while he moves his lips against yours with more passion than before, relishing in the sigh you let out while he kneads the fat of your hips.

In-ho’s lips don’t part from yours for even a second, and you are thankful because you are sure your lips are swollen and your face is morphed with longing for him. You wrap your arms around his neck, pushing your chest against his while he sucks the breath out of your lungs.

You break the kiss, gasping for air with your foreheads pressed together, and you look down into his eyes only to find him physically craving to taste you once more.

You push the few strands of his hair that have fallen on his forehead upward, playing with the hair on the nape of his neck as his hands begin to wander over your back, feeling the warmth of your body under his subtle touch.

“Let’s go,” you pull away and stand up, dragging him out of the chair towards the stairs. He doesn’t protest and follows you silently, walking behind you until you reach your room across your father’s room at the end of the hallway, “Come.”

You pull him in, and in an instant, he is on you, kissing you with a vulgar and rising desire, cradling your face in his palms, backing you towards your bed without breaking apart from you.

He lets go of your lips for a second when the back of your knees hit the edge of the bed, and you fall on your bed, lying back as you look up at him, watching the rapid rise and fall of his chest and how disheveled he looks — you haven’t even started anything and he already looks so satisfied.

“We mustn’t go all the way,” he whispers as he crawls on top of you, holding himself up by his hands next to your head, humming in encouragement when you spread your legs enough for him to settle between them, “Keep it for another time, perhaps.”

“If you are saying this because of me, then just know that I’m okay if we do this… completely,” you breathe out, looking up into his eyes, watching as he leans down slowly, pulling your lips into a soft quick kiss, “Another time?”

“Maybe, darling,” he keeps pecking your lips, trailing his kisses from your lips to your cheek, rocking his hips forward, making you feel the ache in his pants, “For now, we must make sure you keep quiet.”

You bite your lip when he sucks a mark on your sensitive skin, lapping up on every inch he can get his tongue on, savoring the taste of your perfume — bitter or not — as he takes his time. But apparently, his self-control is near breaking with how he rubs the evident bulge in his pants against your clothed core.

“Fuck,” he groans and reaches down to undo your pants, pulling the fabric down urgently, straightening his back fully, and you take this chance to ubutton his shirt and push it off his broad shoulders, gasping sightly as you caress his heated skin from his collarbones down to his stomach, noticing how the muscles move as he gets rid of your pants.

You take off your shirt too, lying down beneath him with nothing on but your bra and underwear, legs resting against his hips while he runs the pad of his fingers along the length of your thighs.

“Please, don’t keep me waiting,” you whine, hands traveling down his v-line until you reach the pulsing tent that clearly needs some relief, “Please…”

“Fine, fine,” he breathes out, unzipping his pants and pushing it down to his knees with his briefs, sighing as his throbbing cock springs free, resting against his abdomen, “Fuck, darling, do you see what you do me? I’ve been aching all night for you.”

“In-ho…” you say, hands shyly wrapping around his dick, slowly moving up and down his length, eyes never leaving his face as he tips his head back and groans in delight when you squeeze his base, “Need to feel you.”

He opens his eyes and looks down at the wet spot on your underwear, cursing under his breath as he starts rubbing your cunt over your panties. His eyes darken even more when he sees how you start to tremble with the simplest touch.

In-ho pushes your panties aside, exhaling sharply when he finds out exactly how wet you are for him; folds drenched and arousal coating all over your pussy. His thumb traces your lower lips before he inches upward, circling your clit slowly, smirking when you close your eyes and grab the sheets.

“You look so beautiful,” he whispers, his free hand wrapping around yours as he guides your hand up and down on his cock faster, his thumb’s pace matching yours, “I can’t wait to see you fall apart for me.”

You gasp when he presses down on the bundle of nerves. With your head thrown back, you buck your hips against his finger, and with each stroke, you can feel how he does the same, thrusting into your fist faster.

But he pushes your hand away suddenly, positioning himself between your legs as he rests his cock over your cunt, rubbing himself over you with intensity. He grabs a hold of your hips, thrusting his cock against your clit, letting your wetness coat his cock with each snap of his hips.

“Put it in, I must feel you—“

“I can’t, darling,” he gasps, squeezing your hips, “We can’t do more than this because if Gi-hun ever finds out—“

“Just the tip! Please, In-ho, this is what I want! You said anything, just put the tip in!” You nearly whine again loudly, your hands holding onto his forearms, “He won’t find out, nothing will change.”

“You’re just begging to be ruined,” he spits the words out, grabbing his cock from the base, slapping the head against your sensitive nerves before lines up himself with your soaked entrance, circling the hole before he pushes in very slowly, his nails digging into your hip while yours break through his skin, “Fuck, darling.”

The sound he makes almost makes you come on spot, and with the thick head of his cock stretching you out, you know you won’t be able to hold back much longer.

“You’re so warm,” he groans, trying his best not to snap his hips forward and fuck you like an animal. He reminds himself he must hold back, he must make sure he doesn’t lose his composure and get lost in the way your walls pulsate and hold onto his cock so beautifully.

“Please, move—“ you gasp when his thumb starts circling again as soon as he pulls out barely and thrusts back inside as gently as he can — just the tip — because if he lets go of the little restraint he has mustered up to keep, he will pin you to the bed all night.

“Not enough, In-ho—“ you reply, locking your legs around his waist, pulling him in as best as you can, but he stops you by grabbing your jaw forcefully, nails digging in your cheeks, and he leans down to look directly into your eyes.

“It has to be enough,” he groans when he feels you tightening your inner walls around him, “Don’t. You’re treading on thin ice already.”

“I need it—“

“Fine, have it your way.”

He doesn’t let go of your face when he bottoms out in one thrust, resting his forehead on yours as he shakes atop of you, his balls resting against the curve of your ass.

If it wasn’t for his hand, you would be moaning his name out loud for the entire neighborhood to hear. He fills you up to the brim, stretching your walls out deliciously, giving you exactly what you want.

You are close, and more importantly, judging by the way his cock throbs inside of you, he is close too. You bite his thumb when he starts moving in and out, his hips snapping to yours and his cock nudging those sweet spots deep inside you that has your head swirling with pleasure.

Your hands go to his broad shoulders, scratching and rubbing his skin while he fucks you; no sign of any self control whatsoever. He moves quickly but carefully, after all, he does not wish to wake his friend up and get caught giving a mind-blowing orgasm to his friend’s daughter.

The knot in your stomach breaks, legs shaking and chest heaving as your peak washes over your body, euphoria rushing through your veins while In-ho keeps his pace, fucking you through your orgasm until he reaches his high.

He pulls out immediately, stroking himself until he shoots his load on your stomach and bra, throwing his head back as he sits up on his knees, his dick twitching while he pumps his cum all over you. He falls next to you on the bed, both of your bodies shaking with the aftermath of the ecstatic moment you experienced.

“I don’t want to, but I must go to the guest room,” he tells you gently, reaching to tuck your hair behind your ear, “I wish I could stay longer but…”

“Don’t worry, I will clean up myself,” you smile, turning your head to kiss his palm, “Besides, we can’t risk getting caught.”

He nods and sits up on the bed, pulling his pants and briefs on before he reaches for his shirt on the ground, standing up to get dressed before he leaves.

“I never understand why your father has a four bedroom house while he is in debt,” he tries to make small talk, making you chuckle and lean up on your elbows, “It’s not rational.”

“Gi-hun is greedy,” you shrug, “He loves to spend and hates to make money.”

“That explains it,” he sighs, pushing his hands into the pockets of his pants, “Goodnight, darling. Again, I’m sorry you have to deal with that all by yourself.”

“Goodnight, In-ho.”

#hwang inho x reader #lee byung hun x reader #hwang in ho x reader #hwang in ho #in ho squid game #in ho x reader #in ho x you #hwang inho #inho x reader #inho x you #hwang inho smut #hwang in ho smut #lee byung hun smut #squid game #squid game x reader #squid game x you #squid game smut

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mmirx · 1 day ago

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AFTERTHOUGHT ⋆⑅˚₊

Who were you if not unremarkable? You had finally come into terms that you are someone who was meant to stay in everyone’s shadow, but not until you met Caleb, or so you thought.

cw/tags: university au, non-mc reader, frat guy caleb (but not really important), angst, jealousy, self-loathing (please just lmk if i missed more cw, i just cant identify more as of now)

note: this will have several parts but im not sure how many lololol i hope you guys will like this! this is going to be based on my experience with a guy i recently met. also, i didnt add any visuals as i was too lazy to find one so sorryyy

word count: 824

“Here's one,” the guy who had been occupying your bed for hours suddenly blurted out, “it's a fifteen minute walk away from the university.”

He showed you a listing of the apartment he found. It has a bed that's probably smaller than what you wanted, and it looks like it has witnessed history more than you ever had. It's nowhere near a liveable state.

“Caleb," you sighed as you tried to find your way into his eyes, “you serious?"

You shouldn't have asked—he looked dedicated, but come on, you were broke but you deserved to live in a somehow decent apartment. Saving a few bucks in rent but having to pay more for medical bills isn't something you'd want to do.

His smile immediately turned into an awkward one, almost a comical one. You would have probably laughed if you weren't currently swamped with deadlines and on the edge of being kicked out by your landlord. It was nice of him to help you find a new apartment, really, but at the same time you’d wish that he'd be more careful on what to recommend. He had found out a week ago that you haven't paid your rent since you ‘accidentally’ created a feud with your landlord and enthusiastically offered to help.

“I told you, you can crash on my place for a while," he tried to say as he munched on the chips that you gave him—it was the least you could offer. You had declined him a few days ago when he offered you to stay in his fully furnished apartment, and of course, you badly wanted to but you needed to save your dignity.

In all honesty, you didn't want him to find out—you wanted to keep this from everyone as you were trying to avoid their pity. Pride is a funny thing because one could be in the deepest pit of hell and lose everything but your pride will hold on as if it has embedded itself onto you. Even MC, his and your best friend, didn't know about this because you had begged him to not tell her.

“Speaking of MC, is she doing an interview for the student paper, again?" you asked, not looking away from your laptop filled with whatnots of old and greedy colonizers from the past. Made you wonder why you chose history as your major.

“MC? Yes, you know she could be quite a celebrity," he responded enthusiastically as if he'd been waiting for someone to bring her up. “Last time we went to a cafe, she literally had to greet almost everyone we saw.”

You raised your eyebrow to show that you were intrigued as to why. It's always like this, you ask one question about her childhood friend and he'd talk more than what you wanted. You sounded bitter, but who could blame you?

Every time someone mentioned you, you were referred to as their ‘third-wheel’ which you find quite insulting. Sure, you're not the type to steal the spotlight, but you were your own person—you had your ups, too, or at least you thought. Unfortunately, you're surrounded by the exceptionals and compared to them, you're plain as a tofu.

It wasn't like you wanted to be popular too but someone appreciating you without bringing them up would be nice. For God's sake, you literally presented in an international paper conference—that’s something! Though, only two people congratulated you because the same day you received the news, MC’s latest film was released. The film was nice, produced by film majors who were known by the whole student body because of their quality production, however, you wished your win was celebrated too—

Caleb’s phone rang. You knew that ringtone—it’s customized solely for his ‘pipsqueak’. You signed him to take it outside since you were busy finishing a presentation for one of your courses.

Your eyes landed on his laptop; he left it opened, so you could help to take a look. Oh, and you wish, you hadn't. His desktop wallpaper is a picture from his childhood and MC’s.

Self-loathing isn't something that one should make a hobby of theirs, but you can't help it. You hated how you unconsciously felt small compared to MC. What's wrong with you?

She had always been nice and kind, for Christ’s sake, she nursed you every time you were sick. But it dawned you, why can't he see you the way he sees her?

Maybe, you should stop fooling around and move on, but do you have the strength? You pondered within yourself and you almost missed the fact that Caleb has come back from his phone call.

“I'll be going. MC needed help for dinner."

“Oh, right," you tried to sound as neutral as you could. Dinner? That's what he's leaving you for? But who are you to demand, you're literally a charity case in this scenario.

“Say hi for me to her. Thanks for today, Caleb.”

PART 2

#love and deepspace caleb #lads caleb #lnds caleb #caleb lads #lnd caleb #caleb x reader #caleb x you #caleb x y/n #caleb x mc #caleb angst

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quitesins · 19 hours ago

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Non Mc! Reader & Mentor!Rafayel [Sfw]

Thinking of writing a fic where you’re a young artist who gets sort of mentored taken in by Rafayel, years before he reunites with Mc. You spend almost every day with him, learning new skills both in and outside of art. You’re still young and timid, but Rafayel’s penchant for never pulling his words, forces you to match his energy. He makes you honest. You’re trying new things, going new places, comfortable in relying on Rafayel to keep you confident. Despite all the back and forth, the sass that isn’t spared on you, you find it’s far too easy to fall in love with him.

And for the most part it’s also easy to keep that part of your secret.

Until he meets Mc. You’ve heard of her in passing and you knew the day would come. What you didn’t expect is for your daily meetings to lessen, gallery trips missed and the art events reserved for you, now for a girl you can’t even seem to hate.

She’s too nice. You can see exactly why she holds Rafayel’s heart entirely. That’s why you decide to protect your own, no longer trying for Rafayel’s company or attention and even turning him down the rare moments he reaches out first.

You think it’ll be fine but Rafayel isn’t stupid. You’re his friend, and he knows something is up. Unfortunately the both of you are as tense as each other because the conversation he hopes to go smoothly, ends up a awful, angry argument. One that when you try to leave, has him grabbing your arm on instinct. Rafayel is just as shocked as you, instantly pulling back like he’d been burned. But it’s enough of a scare that you don’t say another word, practically running out of his place. He doesn’t chase after you, a deep set guilt keeping him anchored and a bubbling heat in his hands that he hasn’t yet understood.

He doesn’t see you again. For a while he doesn’t talk of you either. He doesn’t see you around Linkon, your place, he swears he was passing on accident, seemingly vacant. The egregiously painted pots the two of you once made, no longer displayed proudly on your door step. Only in secret guilt filled moments does he think of you, but never feeling enough to reach out.

When he does mention your name, it’s been years and somehow Thomas’s casual nostalgia feels wrong. It’s like you were just some fleeting figure, not a friend he once upon a time deeply cared and even felt responsible for. But there’s nothing more he can do. You aren’t his responsibility, you maybe never were. And there’s no reason to seek you out now.

So it’s his surprise when he does find you. Two cities over, he almost thinks his eyes are playing tricks on him. Your hair has changed a bit, and you’ve definitely grown— into yourself, a proper adult now. There’s a simmering pride within him, watching how the shy thing he once gave security to, now struts around on her own without the need for him to keep you balanced.

But there’s confusion too. He wonders why you aren’t an artist anymore. Your name is never said amongst his industry peers, and even if it changed, he’d recognise your style in a heartbeat. You were so close to being great, how could you give it up so easily.

He thinks to ask why, but as he approaches, it takes one look at your hand, the healed skin from a burn that could only be his, for him to come to the horrible realisation himself.

A/n: fa me it would be purely platonic on his end, I loveeee unrequited love, but I also want to see rafayel feel guilty so it’d be over him being a shit friend… also also for some reason the idea of Rafayel unintentionally taking on a nurturing protective role is sooo interesting to me and I’d loveee to explore it…

Guys if this is ooc it’s okay because I can imagine anything 🫡

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whoopsyeahokay · 24 hours ago

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Marshmallow Miles

summary: prompt fill. Wally needs to get the hell out of Split River. thankfully, he finds the perfect excuse and takes you along for the ride. (request)

pairing: Wally Clark x fem!reader

warnings: smut lite. fluff. AU - everybody is alive (zesty). lore established offscreen. same 'verse as Cuddle Bug.

bon reading, frens

___________________________🧁

Marshmallow Miles

Wally spent the last 40 years haunting the high school. Then spent the last few months within the town limits, adjusting to being a regular student while he got his second chance at life organized. Principal Hartman, Ms. Chung, and Mrs. Moretz—the guidance counselor—banded together to help the formerly-dead reacclimate, and part of that means they all need to graduate.

Except, obviously, Mr. Martin, who Sheriff Baxter's keeping a tight leash on. Or Janet, wherever the hell she is.

Point being, Wally and his friends are still tethered to the place they hate most in the world. Even if there is a light at the end of the tunnel this time, they don't get to enjoy it until they walk across the stage, diplomas in hand.

Which means Wally? Is feeling somewhat-very claustrophobic. Skin too tight, walls closing in, suffocated and nauseous at the thought of having to spend another goddamn second in the town that killed him.

It's as he's listening to you, hanging onto your every word like psalms, that the idea strikes. Light. Bulb. Wausau? Claire's stepdad's ski lodge? You don't say!

He knows your birthday's coming up (Simon made sure to stick post-it notes in every single one of Wally's text- and notebooks to remind him) and he's been fretting over what to do for weeks. But this? This is it! Not only will Wally be able to celebrate you the way you deserve, doing something you seem genuinely keen on, he'll be able to put Split River in the rearview for a whole week.

Is it a little selfish to use your birthday as an excuse to escape? Kind of, sort of, maybe. But he's desperate to find out if he can have a life beyond this. Beyond Split River High and Number 57 and tragedy and discombobulating rise-agains. And the only person he wants to find anything out with, well, is you.

It's two-birds-one-stone, honestly, and don't you always praise his efficiency? Hell yeah, you do. His biggest fan. Besides, he will dote on you, treat you right, make you feel like the center of the universe because you are. At least, you're the center of his, and that's why he has to do this. To prove there's a future with him that has more potential than cultivating small town syndrome.

You catch him grinning that dopey little grin he gets when he's thinking about surprising you, but Maddie distracts you before you can question it. Which gives Wally the rest of lunch to plot into his tater tots.

Thank you, Maddie. Best wingwoman ever.

‗•‗

The plan comes together seamlessly. Everyone pitches in to help bring Wally's vision to life. Claire gives him the keys to her stepdad's lodge. Maddie and Charley morally support Wally as he shops for warm clothes in your size that he can smuggle in his own luggage so you stay in the dark for as long as possible.

Nicole and Rhonda, the unlikeliest of best buds, drag him into The Body Shop and Victoria's Secret—"imagine a romantic bubble bath after skiing all day?" Nicole coos. "Imagine undressing her on a bearskin rug in front of a fire." Rhonda smirks around her new vape.

That's. Really. All the convincing Wally needs to make a dent in the allowance Rodney gives him.

Wally even swallows his pride, puts on his most charming smile, and asks Xavier for his truck. He knows the only reason Xavier agrees is because it's for you, but still, a win is a win. With a general, "hurt her and I'll rip your balls off," from your platonic soulmate, Wally joyfully departs. Tosses the keys in the air and catches them, his chest feeling lighter than it has in decades.

Everything is packed in the truck and ready to go the night before. He called you earlier to impart the vaguest of instructions as to what you should bring, proud of himself for not giving anything away too soon. Even when you asked in that silly-sweet voice, pouting on the screen like a princess, "Please? At least give me a hint!"

No. No hints.

Like a child on Christmas, Wally can barely sleep, he's so excited, but he manages a few hours. Dreams of the world beyond Split River as if he's setting off on some grand adventure and not just driving a 3.5 hour span of state highway.

Tomorrow, Wally will experience a first. Something that was so far out of reach there was no point entertaining it because all it led to was disappointment and regret. Instead there were years upon years of distractions. Mock Trials and obituaries and looking at his feet when he should've looked back.

Wally sometimes wonders if those missed opportunities weren't the yellow brick road that brought him to you. Everyone else walked through The Door with him, but there's no sign of Dawn who crossed over. If Mr. Martin didn't do what he did, Wally might've moved on, and you and he wouldn't exist...

His heart lurches in his chest.

No sense ruminating. You have him. He has you. That's all that matters now. And tomorrow, Wally will have his first real taste of freedom with the only person he wants to share that moment with.

It's going to be perfect.

‗•‗

Wally picks you up just after sunrise. You're grumpy and sleepwarm and, Jesus, Wally loves you. Pouting at him like he's both a menace and your savior. Arms up, lower lip jutted out, a sweet demand of carry me before you slump into his embrace and force him to take your weight. Which he does, easily, big grin on his face as he toddler-carries you to the passenger side of Xavier's truck.

He bundles you in, sets you up with the softest blanket Claire found at Target—Yuri and Ajay not doing their jobs as devil's advocate at all as the cart filled up with Claire's suggestions. Honestly, Wally doesn't care. Especially not after your eyes brighten as you run your fingers over it, wiggling happily in your seat.

"You cozy, babygirl?" He asks as soon as he's behind the wheel and the smile you give him makes him fucking melt.

"You got me a blanket." You state, tucking yourself in more securely; shoes off, feet up, elbow on the console so you can lean over it and kiss Wally's cheek. "Thank you."

Wally blushes, he can't help it, and shrugs as if it's nothing. "I got you a bunch of things, baby," he says as he starts the truck, "Just wait and see. You're gonna feel like a princess, I promise."

You slip your hand into his, fingers laced, and he rests them on your thigh as he drives. Down the street, turn left, continue to the intersection of Main and 4th. Right on 4th, all the way to the end and then left on Pine. Drive until the highway onramp. Now Leaving Split River, We'll Miss You!

Oh God... Wally's heart pounds, blood rushing in his ears. This feels bigger than his first step off school property. Bigger than feeling air in his lungs and a drum in his chest after being hollow for so long.

Somehow, and Wally doesn't know how, you manage to talk him through pulling over, crawling over the console to plant yourself in his lap. Hands cradling his jaw, you press your forehead against his and guide him away from the edge of a panic attack.

"—got you, Wally, I'm right here, you're okay, shh, you're okay..." The steady cadence of your voice sharpens as his breathing regulates. He's holding you like a lifeline, arms fastened around your waist, heaving great gulps of air as he trembles slightly.

"I'm sorry, baby," He gasps and squeezes his eyes shut.

"Nuh-uh, no apologies, Wally Clark," You say firmly. There's a lull before you chuckle, gentle and kind, "Hey, this was a lot better than the night you first stepped across the school boundary line, right?"

Fuck, that was a mess. However, Wally wasn't alone when that happened. Charley and Rhonda and Yuri, Mr. Martin and Ajay, Mina, they were all there too, equally as overwhelmed. Rhonda threw up on Quinn's shoes. Charley passed all the way out. Yuri and Ajay were fine, fuck them, but Mina just...screamed. And then laughed. Then cried. Then screamed some more, listening to the sound ricochet off the surrounding buildings in a way it wouldn't have days before The Door.

Wally snorts, "Yeah. Sure," and finally peeks up at you. Your thumbs stroke his cheeks that he realizes belatedly feel damp. Is he crying? Weak. But you aren't judging him, simply gazing at him like he hung the moon; you're perfect person, the man you love most, and Wally's chest swells. "We're out of Split River," Wally croaks.

You beam at him, "We're out of Split River."

Holy fuck. He's out of Split River.

‗•‗

After climbing out of the truck to holler into the ether. To chase each other around the Now Leaving sign. To grab you, spin you around and fall into the grass as you and he laugh and laugh and laugh, Wally finally gets the show back on the road.

Once again, he tucks you into your seat, takes your hand, checks his mirrors and then pulls back onto the highway, the town that raised him then witnessed his death becoming a speck in the background with every mile marker you and he pass.

He lifts your hand, grazes a kiss to your knuckles, his eyes on the road and his mind on you and everything he has planned for this trip. At the halfway point, he stops for gas, shadows you as you browse the aisles for exactly the right snacks. Fondly gazes after you the whole time as you make tough decisions: Nerds or Twizzlers? Cookies or chocolate? Wally, do I want a vanilla or butterscotch pudding with my Oreos? Because that's a normal combination, what?

He's absolutely no help at all, too busy mooning over you as you flutter between the fridge and the chest freezer, babbling about how integral to your mood it is to pick the right snack. To cover for the fact that he isn't paying attention, Wally grabs a bag of marshmallows off one of the shelves when you call him out for not listening.

"These." He says, holding the bag up and then glancing at the graham crackers and Hershey's displayed at eye-level. "Maybe these?"

"You wanna make s'mores in the truck?" You ask, dubious.

"No," Wally saves himself, "Just these," and he jiggles the bag of marshmallows. They're the jumbo kind; the kind he used to bet his cousin Dennis to eat five of in one bite or else he couldn't play Wally's Magnavox Odyssey.

You consider the marshmallows for a moment and then, with a decisive nod, "And hot chocolate."

"And hot chocolate," Wally agrees, following you around the shop to the coffee station.

Wally pays for everything, hip-butting you (carefully, no spills) out of the way when you try to pass the cashier your card. He takes the bag and the tray of hot chocolate and still holds the door open for you with his heel. No fucking way is his princess lifting a finger on her birthday-slash-Wally's-freedom trip.

For every mile, you dip a marshmallow in your hot chocolate—dipping Wally's as well and feeding him, giggling when he nips or sucks the gooey sugar from your fingertips. It's silly and sweet and Wally basks in every second of it. Every second of your off-key singing, your trivia answers, your arguments over which is better, Thunderbirds or Captain Scarlet and the Mysterons.

"You know, I have been catching up on TV shows, right?" Wally laughs, "You can use better examples."

"What's wrong with puppets, Wally? Are you a pupaphobist?"

Wally barks a laugh, "That's not a thing!"

"It definitely is a thing," And you wield your phone, flashing Google as Exhibit A. "So? Are you? Just say it, you hate Jim Henson and everything he stood for."

And it's amazing. It's anything and everything and so much more than Wally could've ever hoped for. Even the quiet intervals when the sugar wears off and the early wakeup call catches up to you; your body curled up in your seat awkwardly just so you can angle yourself right to rest your head on the console and place Wally's hand in your hair.

Adorable little diva.

As you doze, Wally watches the scenery drift by, his lungs expanding more and more with every mile he puts between himself and Split River.

Eventually, he turns off the highway and onto the backroads without you noticing a thing. His fingers card through your hair, trace the shape of your jaw and cheek as he absorbs the softness of the moment and tucks it away behind his ribs. Safe and sound, to be pulled out and cherished when he's alone.

When he parks, he's reluctant to wake you. So, he doesn't. Not immediately. Rather, he spends a few minutes just resting himself, sinking down a little in the driver's seat. Then slants sideways, curls over and around you to kiss your ear, cheek, jaw.

He couldn't dim his smile if he tried, enamored when you protest at first, but then sigh, realize where you are and who you're with before groggily chuckling at Wally's antics.

"Surprise, baby girl," He whispers, letting you sit up so you can take in your surroundings.

The look on your face tells Wally he did a good job. The way you tackle him into the inside of his door and kiss him tells him he's going to have to start planning next year's surprise tomorrow, because, fuck yeah, this is exactly the reaction he's looking for.

Getting out of the truck and staring at Claire's stepdad's lodge; at the trees and the snow and the vast expanse of sky, it hits him again like a ton of bricks.

Holy fuck. He's out of Split River!

‗•‗

He doesn't wait to celebrate. As soon as he closes the door behind him, he reels you in, kisses you deep and hungry while you're only halfway out of your jacket. That's okay, he helps you get it the rest of the way off, along with everything else.

"Let me make you feel good, baby," He whispers against your skin, hands everywhere, his hips rolling into yours as he pins you to the wall beside the door. "Let me show you how much I love you..."

Wally kisses you deep, hungry, groaning into your mouth as he keeps grinding his hard cock against you, fuck, you get him going like nothing else. All you have to do is breathe in his direction and his pants tent.

Heat courses through him, curls tight in his belly and flushes outward to his limbs, God, he needs you. Now. Right fucking now, baby, come on. He carries you to the enormous kitchen island, peels your leggings and panties off and has his lips on you and tongue in you faster than you can cry out his name.

"So sweet, baby," He moans into your pussy, panting, not bothering to breathe in his greed for your taste and pleasure. "Fuck, I can't wait to be inside you."

He spears his tongue in and out of you before teasing little circles around your clit, his fingers plunging into you in place of his tongue. Wally could do this all day and never get tired; the sounds you make, the way you writhe and beg for him, Jesus, he can't imagine ever wanting anything else.

Cruel, desperate, he doesn't care what you call it, he stops right as you're about to come, shoves his sweatpants just below his balls and drags your hips off the counter to punch his cock into you. His head falls back as soon as he feels you around him, so tight and hot, "Fuck, yes, baby, so good for me."

And he sets a frenzied pace, unable to keep himself in check now that he has you like this. His fingers dig into your lovehandles, your legs hooked over his elbows. He's grunting, you're mewling your pleasure, and Wally about loses it before you do. But he doesn't. He's better than that, fucks you like a beast until you scream and shake and squirt around his cock.

It's game over after that. No way can he hold on, his body tensing, hips grinding, as he spills deep inside you. Carefully, he sits you more firmly on the counter and leans in to kiss you, soft, sated, a little blissdrunk in the afterglow. Bodies pressed together, slowly recovering, Wally strokes the arches of your cheeks with his thumbs and gives you a muzzy smile.

"You're my whole world, you know that?" He tells you and then captures your lips in a kiss that quickly turns heated, "I'll do anything for you, baby." Fuck, he's already getting worked up again, needs more of you, always needs more. "I'll die all over again if you asked me to."

"Wally..." You gasp when he rocks his hips forward, driving his cock back into you.

It's just after sundown before you and he finally check out what's beyond the open kitchen/living room space, the table and couch and ottoman and, shit, bearskin rug fully christened in sweat and come.

You and he jump on the beds with childlike glee, music blaring on speakers that cost more than Rodney's mortgage. Claire explicitly forbade Wally from using the master suite so, taking that into consideration, that's the first bedroom he fucks you in—from behind, driving his hips forward while he pulls you back against him. What? He'll do the necessary laundry.

If he remembers...

‗•‗

After a supper of haphazardly thrown together and grossly microwaved nachos, Wally snuggles you between his legs on one of the Adirondack chairs outside, under a thick blanket and dressed accordingly in the thermals and sweater and fuzzy socks he secretly bought and brought for you.

The fire pit blazes, the stars above twinkle, and the land around is a peaceful kind of dark. Not the ominous, suffocating dark Wally grew accustomed to in the confines of the school. The comfortable silence between you and him is accentuated by the crackle and pop of the fire, the scene so peaceful, Wally has to wonder if he ever experienced any such feeling before.

His arms tighten around you and he presses a kiss to your cheek from behind, watching the flames dance as you lance another marshmallow on your stick.

Tomorrow is your birthday and he intends to take you skiing. Or, when he knows you'll diplomatically decide to trade skis for slippers, he'll bring you back here at noon and spoil you rotten with presents and a homecooked meal; that bubble bath Nicole suggested (thank you, Nicole), and a long night on that bearskin rug (thank you Rhonda).

It's going to be an incredible week, he assures himself. And on Saturday, the others will arrive while he takes you into the resort town to explore so they can set up your big surprise party. Yuri will grill in a t-shirt, and Charley will force everyone to play 90s boardgames he died too soon to play, and Rhonda will make everyone take shots whenever Wally gives you heart eyes just to watch the messiness unfurl.

Claire will probably reprimand him for fucking in her parents' bedroom, but Wally doesn't care. Because it means he celebrated you right. That you and he had fun. That there's evidence of the fact that, for the first time in 40 years, holy fuck, Wally made it out of Split River!

fin.

🧁___________________________

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if you enjoyed this, you may also enjoy Tongue Twister.

a PWP drabble highlighting Wally Clark's addiction to eating your pussy like a man possessed.

#milo manheim #wally clark #school spirits #school spirits season 2 #wally clark smut #wally clark fluff #wally clark fanfiction #fem!reader #wally clark x fem!reader #Marshmallow Miles #Order Up!

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chilschuck · 3 days ago

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YOU WEAR THOSE SHOES (AND I WILL WEAR THAT DRESS)

꒰ warnings: ꒱ none! sfw fluff + gn!half-foot reader! reader is described as wearing a corset and dress, but you can replace that with whatever you desire!

꒰ wc: ꒱ 1.8k

✦ wow, i’m back!!! (;;;w;;;) wanted to get something out for you guys, and while listening to kiss me by sixpence none the richer, i found myself writing another fluffy chil piece! listen to it while reading for the full vibe, and i actually like this one for once since it’s got pining goodness and flower language! hope this is okay, and please enjoy loves!! <3333

It wasn’t often that you spent your summer nights out dancing with others.

Maybe it was the fact that the other half-foots invited you to join in a simple summer solstice celebration, but you found yourself drawn to the idea. Watching the little ones thread flowers together and create crowns of blooms made your heart sing, along with the fact that you could finally bake those lavender cookies you had been so keen on. Your garden was flourishing, and so was the meadow which you currently found yourself in.

Several familiar faces made their way to the gathering. You saw some friends from the guild, along with the dates they found company with. You weren’t exactly disappointed in being on your own, but in this moment, you entertained the idea of dancing with someone.

That someone made an appearance only to try the mead. It was, in fact, often that he would show just for tasting new brews and then wave his hellos and goodbyes. You couldn’t exactly blame him; the man did plenty of work for others, so relaxing and unwinding was not undeserved. Yet, even in your corset and flowy attire, a part of you wished you’d be the center of his attention for even a moment.

Apparently you weren’t the only one who felt that way; Flertom and Puckpatti were currently making haste to find you, dragging Meijack behind them. Little did you know that a plan was in action, one that consisted of you and the half-foot that unexpectedly stole your affections.

Considering calling it a night, the warm sunlight on your skin made your eyes flutter sleepily. You had been going at it for quite a while today, and had happily watched the last of your cookies get eaten up. A content sigh left your lips, dusting off your hands onto the very dress you hoped would have caught his eye. It was so strange for you to try and attract attention to yourself, yet his gaze was always welcomed. Your lips curling into a soft smile, you turned to make your leave until the sound of your name rang through the air.

“You’re still here, thank gosh! And is that a new dress?!”

Turning to follow the trail of her voice, you saw Flertom hastily making her way towards you, a beaming Puckpatti with an arm full of flowers in tow. Meijack gave a small wave, one you quickly returned before being bombarded by her sisters.

Opening your mouth to speak, it was quickly shut when Puckpatti began holding up flowers to your ear in order to judge which one matched your outfit best. Flertom, reaching for your hands, gave a giddy jump or two before chirping out, “You should dance with him!”

Meijack coughed, hands on her hips as she watched her two sisters fuss over you. “You caught them off guard, Fler.”

Which was true, as flowers were now threaded in between strands of your hair and the binds of your corset now tightened across your back. As the girls tidied you up, you found your only sanity in the freckled half-foot standing out of the way of her hurried sisters.

“Surely, you aren’t talking about—“

Flertom cut you off with a tut, standing back to admire her and Puckpatti’s work. “Of course I am! Dad would be lucky to be asked by you to dance. Just look at you!”

Puckpatti gave a final adjustment to your dress, fluffing it out and moving to stand beside her sisters. “We chose the flowers that we thought would suit you best. You look lovely!”

Cheeks burning, you licked your lips in thought. So much just happened so fast, and before you could argue, the trio pushed you towards the sideline, where the object of your affection currently stood unbothered.

“No, no, no— Flertom, Puckpatti, I was just headed home and—“ you gave a pleading look to your only hope, who currently shrugged her freckled shoulders and gave a lazy grin.

“Go get him, tiger.”

Accepting your fate of death by embarrassment, you now were dropped off behind the taller half-foot and simply left to suffer. Of course your crush on their father was obvious, but you didn’t think it was so obvious as to find yourself in this sort of predicament.

You swallowed when he turned to see what the commotion was behind him, you now long abandoned by the girls who forced you into this situation. Great.

Chilchuck gave you a once over, a mug still in his hand, now leaving his lips. The casted shade of the tree you were under somewhat helped the full burning sensation of your body, but evidently not enough. After the brief moment he spent studying the peonies and daisies throughout your head of hair, Chilchuck gave a small nod.

“Looks like you’re enjoying the festivities.” He spoke, taking another sip of his drink. Maybe he was finally getting to the age where it affected him, as you noticed a slight shade of pink to his cheeks.

“Somewhat,” you replied with a shaky smile, enjoying the way the setting sun shone through the leaves and highlighted the grey in his hair. One of your favorite characteristics about the half-foot in front of you was the sign of his age, something that made a fuzzy feeling tickle in your gut.

Fireflies blinked in and out of the darkening sky, creating a cozy atmosphere for the half-foots still celebrating and dancing. Children ran past you, giggles trailing behind and the meadow swallowing your feet swaying with their movement. As high strung as you felt in this moment, you couldn’t help noticing the jovial mood in the environment around you. It was becoming contagious.

Chilchuck seemed to feel the same, as when you turned your gaze towards him, that small, content smile was situated on his features. Eyes half-lidded, he looked as if this was something he needed.

“Seems like you’re enjoying them, too.” You teased, watching with glee as he rolled his eyes, that grin never leaving his lips.

“The alcohol helps.” His reply caused you to snort, your fingers subconsciously twirling the stem of a camellia behind your ear. The blanket of warmth cast over the two of you was something you grew addicted to; it seemed to only grow with the time you spent together. It started with a gentle urge to move closer to him in your legs and ended at the rosy tint in your cheeks. Maybe this was what love actually felt like; to be content with just each other’s presence.

Chilchuck seemed to hold that same sentiment, because a comfortable silence fell over the two of you as the couples across from you cheered and twirled amongst each other.

The urge to hear his voice again overpowered the need to keep things steady around you, so you broke the silence with a gentle question.

“Not one for dancing?”

Your question caused his smile to become more of a lop-sided smirk, hidden somewhat by the rim of his cup. “I can be. Usually when I’m a good few glasses in, maybe.”

Tilting your head towards his mug, you couldn’t keep your next question from bubbling up. “Which number is that one?”

Chilchuck’s eyes flit over to you, amusement in the corners. How easily you asked the question caught him somewhat off guard, and he took a final swig of his mead before wiping his lip. This didn’t go unnoticed by you.

“Are you asking me to dance?”

The question wasn’t accusatory in nature, more so laced with curiosity. Half-foots were known for dancing at celebrations and events, so it wasn’t an outrageous question. Even Chilchuck was known to enjoy the activity when he, like he said prior, had a few drinks in his system. This sort of dancing you were requesting wasn’t the usual tavern tap dancing, though. Your eyes said something more.

Holding out a hand, you nodded towards the other members of your guild who were finishing up their current round of dancing with a soft round of applause.

“I’m not asking you to stand here, Mr. Tims.” Another tease sent his way, one to tread the waters carefully just to gauge how he’d react to such a request. His eyes gazed down at your hand, before meeting your own again. Setting down his cup, he made one final statement.

“Okay, but don’t get upset when I step on your feet or something.”

His hand now meeting your own, you led him to an open area among the flowers and fireflies. With a quick, nervous attempt to study how everyone else was dancing, you placed your opposite hand onto his shoulder. You took a shaky step back, and he followed, one foot forward. The hands that were still together became intertwined, the methodical rhythm setting in and that warmth settling over you again.

With an exhale, you tried to focus on the music and the way it guided you. Through your lashes, you gave a glance up at your taller dance partner, who looked just as concentrated on making sure he didn’t step on your toes. That made you feel a little better, and that grin lifted the corners of your lips once again.

Chilchuck continued to watch his feet, studying how you moved. Intent on not screwing this up, both of you failed to notice the hazy buzz of locusts and the stars peeking through the veil of dusk around you.

The hand Chilchuck had placed on your side slowly trailed to your hip, and pulled you ever so closer to his own frame. Eyes meeting again, you gave a soft smile towards the half-foot, almost as if you were trying to snatch the air right from his lungs. Which, you seemed to do, with the way petals trailed around your face and the retreating light of day framed your eyes. Your dance partner swallowed, suddenly wishing he had another big cup of mead to down.

His button up shirt, ceasing to hide any of the warmth that came from his body, was now kissing the fabric of your corset. A twirl, a laugh, and the two of you were entangled again. Step forward, step back, fingers digging into fabric inviting more. It was a sort of summer buzz that you could only get when you were young and alive, the world around you ceasing to exist as you guided each other into a rhythm.

Soon you found yourself resting your head in the crook of his neck, fingers intertwined and arm wrapped around his slender back. Little did you know, the closer you got to each other, a simple swing being the only move you both did now, the louder the giddy squeals of two sisters got. Maybe their father’s second attempt at romance could be your true first.

And as he swayed you to the sweet sound of summer and half-foot music, you couldn’t have imagined a better way to begin the new season of your life.

— dividers by @/cafekitsune!! <33

#⟡ lilia writes! 🌿#୨ chilchuck my beloved ୧ #holy moly…. i actually wrote something #i hope it’s okay AAAAAAA ;;;;#i feel so rusty #PLS CHIL WRITING COME BACK TO ME #anyways. the pinerssssssss #chilchuck x reader #dunmeshi x reader #chilchuck tims x reader #delicious in dungeon x reader #dungeon meshi x reader

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marinettesaltprompts · 2 days ago

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Marinette Salt Prompt:

Prompt by @Bloop24

Kagami’s first impression of Marinette was that she enjoyed leading Adrien on. Though this was later corrected at the movie premiere when he told her that Marinette was just a friend and wasn’t the one he was talking about. Still, even after the correction her impression of her wasn’t great. Throughout the entire event, though she pretended not to see them, Kagami had noticed Marinette and Chloe attempting to mess with her. She knows that Adrien said that they were just friends, but seeing how hard she and Chloe tried to separate her and Adrien, she doubted Marinette saw him as just a “friend”.

Later that week, when Kagami joined the Friendship Day event, she thought it would be a good idea to expand her friend circle. She didn’t however, count on being paired with Marinette.

They both stared at each other for a second before Marinette ran off and ducked behind a tree. All Kagami could do was sigh as Marinette was the last person she wanted be paired with or even see. After the events of the movie premiere, Kagami truthfully wanted nothing to do with her. Mourning the the lost opportunity of friendship day and deciding to leave, Kagami was about to do just that. At least, that was the plan until Marinette ran up to her spouting nonsense about how great it was to be paired together.

As Marinette dragged her talking about looking for their first clue. Kagami rolled her eyes at her obviously fake enthusiasm and decided that if she was going to be ragged into doing this she was at least going to do it right. However after two clues, it was obvious to Kagami that the other girl was purposely trying to lead her in a different direction than the clues; she’s pretty sure it’s because the winner gets to spend the day with Adrien, which left Kagami confused as she Marinette and Adrien were classmates meaning they could hang out at any time.

The next part of the challenge was to switch phones with your partner, which by this point Kagami was done with this event and ready to head home. Before she could say that she wasn’t doing the next challenge, Marinette had already switched their phones and ran off. She stood stunned for a few seconds before quickly running off to find her, she didn’t trust her not to go through her phone. While she was trying to find Marinette a video message started auto playing on her phone. It was one of Marinette’s friends saying how they felt bad that she got paired up with her. Kagami scoffed, she and Marinette don’t know each other and she’s never met this girl, yet they already decided they didn’t like her.

Eventually, Kagami found Marinette and unsurprisingly, the other girl was going through her phone. Infuriated at this point, Kagami stormed over towards her and ripped the her phone from her while throwing hers back to her. Marinette looked shocked and tried stuttering out an excuse, but Kagami refused to hear it as she smacked the girls face, uncaring at the emotional outburst she was showing as she watched the other girl fall to the floor, a red hand print visible on her face.

Whatever small amount of regret Kagami felt was outweighed by her anger. At this point, she had had enough of the event and she was done with Marinette. So instead she simply glared at her before turning around and walking off. Looking down at her phone to check for any damage, she saw that Marinette was going through her texts with Adrien.

The next day at fencing practice, Adrien had asked her how Friendship Day went, excited to hear about the new friend she made. Letting out a frustrated sigh, Kagami told him everything that happened that day, leaving Adrien speechless as he listened to his fencing partner.

At this point, Adrien desperately wanted to say that maybe it was just a misunderstanding, but the anger on Kagami’s face gave him pause as he considered the events. Sure, Marinette was a bit wierd around him, but Adrien considered her to be quite capable; if anything they should have been able to complete the challenge easily, especially with how smart her and Kagami were. Not to mention that from what time he spent with Kagami, she was always quite composed, so for her to be this visibly angry and uncomposed meant something bad had to have gone down, even if Adrien really didn’t want to believe that Marinette would talk bad about Kagami to one of the other girls, or went through Kagami’s texts

Even with all this thinking, Adrien was left perplexed at why Marinette would do such a thing, since it seemed so out of character for Marinette (at least, from his perspective). Seeing his confusion, Kagami pointed out that it was likely that Marinette had a crush on him but lacked the courage to talk to Adrien, so she instead went after Kagami who was close to him, pointing out that Marinette seemed focused on her relationship with him, if her focus on Kagami’s text’s were anything to go by. Kagami then talked about the incidents that happened at the premiere, telling Adrien that she noticed they had happened because of her and Chloe, who were also at the event.

At this point, Kagami was left tired at the ordeal and left, leaving Adrien alone to consolidate his thoughts for the rest of the evening. The next day however, the class had noticed Adrien seemed to distance himself from Marinette, the latter of whom had told Alya what had happened yesterday. The class knew something had happened yesterday, and it had something to do with Kagami...

#Marinette salt #Marinette Salt Prompt

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wlwsoccerfics · 16 hours ago

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So much to celebrate (KlaraBühlXReader)

Summary: your best friend and teammate Klara stays at FC Bayern Munich with you after extending her contact and the two of you are celebrating it.

"i am staying. Until 2027 at least." Klara told you when she walked into the apartment you two shared. Not just you two. No you lived there with your partners. She with her Boyfriend and You with your girlfriend. But the two were both at work. You ran over to your best Friend and hugged her. Very happy to hear the News. You were excited for the Fans to find out as well. Your contact was also until 2027. So this meant you two would play together for at least two more years. You and Klara have been friends for almost 6 years now. Both of you have played for SC Freiburg together before you both transfered to FC Bayern Munich at the same time. Before that you played for the Arsenal youth Team. Some say there was no other way to have Arsenal as Part of your career because your sister is Arsenal Legend Leah Williamson. You were two years younger then her.

"amazing News! Excited you are not leaving me because i need your help to plan my Wedding!" You answered.

"excuse me?! Wait did Zoé say yes?!" Klara asked. You nodded your head gently.

"Yes! Yes she did!" You replied with a grin.

"oh my god! I am so happy for the two of you! We have so much to celebrate now! Me staying in Munich and you getting married!" She told you in excitement. Klara knew about you wanting to propose because you went ring Shopping with her and she helped you hide the drawing you made for the proposal of yours and Zoé's First Date and then you wrote 'marry me?' on it. You just didn't tell Klara when you would ask her exactly and didn't tell her what she said yet.

"now let's celebrate! Because both are amazing News!" You said and walked into the kitchen to grab two wine glasses and poured in some of the Red wine you both enjoyed. Before walking back into the livingroom to Hand her one of the glasses.

"to you staying here and playing some more for FC Bayern Munich! So we can keep on winning together. Best Friends who win together stay together!" You told her. She laughed at that.

"to you and Zoé. Can't believe my best friend is getting married!" She replied and teared up a bit. Which made you tear up as well. You hugged one another. So excited and Happy for one another but also for eachother.

You ordered some Chinese food and watched a romcom.

"why are romcoms always so cheesy?" You asked her. Eating your food.

"i don't know! They are all the same basically! Yet the two of us watch every single one of them." Klara said.

"we do! Cause we enjoy making fun of them!" You admitted.

"you spoke nothing but the truth!" Your best friend replied.

"also i need more gay romcoms!" You stated.

"there sure are not enough of those." She agreed with you. Eating her food.

After the movie and some more wine you had a dance Party. You put on some Chappell Roan and you two just danced it all out. Excited for two more years at FC Bayern Munich together.

When your fiancee and Klaras boyfriend came home they found the two of you asleep on the Couch. The bottle of Red wine empty and another romcom playing on the TV screen.

"looked like they Had fun." Your fiancee said.

"yeah it does." He replied with a laugh escaping his lips.

#woso x reader #woso request #woso fic #klara bühl x williamsonreader #fcbayernmunichxreader #leah williamson x reader

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alexs-life-is-a-bit · 2 days ago

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guys what do we think about my coming out letter, please wish me luck!

(my mum is who I'm coming out to and she's transfem lesbain for reference)

hey, remember when i had an "i'm not like other girls" phase? remember when i saw so much of myself in luz, and then she turned out to be gender-nonconforming? remember how i hated bows in my hair, didn’t care about anything feminine, and tried to avoid it? remember when i wanted a suit? how hard it was to find dresses i liked? how i wanted to cosplay as hunter? i know you might not remember, but i do. i remember wishing i wasn’t born with the body i had when i was younger. i thought it was a universal girl experience to wish you had different parts. i thought it was normal to think it would be so cool to be a different gender. i remember hating being called a girl. i wanted to be friends with guys and be seen as part of their group. i remember arguing with people—like sarina and caleb—when they insisted i wasn’t "the guy" in the relationship. i’d say, "i'm the one who wears the pants in the relationship." i remember putting on makeup and not seeing myself. i remember looking in the mirror, hair out of my face, and seeing a barbie. i remember tying my hair up in a hoodie and pretending to be a guy for hours��"as a joke." i remember how happy i was when my friend told me he basically just saw me as a guy. i remember wearing pajama pants and putting my hands in the pockets because it made me feel masc. i thought it was so cool to feel like that, like i had this little thing that made me feel more like a guy. but i also remember loving the way i looked in dresses. loving my long hair. loving the way my legs looked shaved. loving mascara, girly sleepovers, and being a girl. but i hated it, too. i remember wishing i wasn’t either—just me. i remember all the times i wished i had a deep voice. but also loving the way my voice sounded when i sang. i remember hating both. i remember feeling different all the time—waking up some days thinking, "what? why do i suddenly wish i was a boy?" and then the next week, feeling "normal" again. i felt like my past feelings weren’t valid when i started questioning my gender because sometimes i felt fine the way i was. i thought i was just looking for attention—because how could my feelings about gender change? then i found out about being genderfluid. i remember sitting on the floor in late september and thinking, i know i’m not a girl. i felt so uncomfortable with how i looked. for a while, i thought i was just nonbinary. then it switched. it was so confusing. so i thought, maybe i’m trans masc? but how could i be, when i had just loved being a girl a couple weeks ago? i looked into nonbinary labels, and that felt okay—until i started feeling almost sick with how much i envied other guys. then i found the term genderfluid. and suddenly, everything clicked. a lot of genderfluid people love switching pronouns all the time. i don’t. i go by they/them because that’s how i feel 70% of the time, and it makes me really happy. but at the same time, she/her just doesn’t feel right anymore. it makes me uncomfortable, like it doesn’t fit me the way it used to. i know it might take time for people to get used to, but i was hoping that even if no one else does, at least you could call me they. just having one person see me for who i am would mean a lot.

it’s kind of like this: imagine you’ve only ever had vanilla ice cream. it’s good, so you call it your favorite. but then you try a sample of strawberry—and it’s amazing, nothing like what you’ve had before. suddenly, you wonder how you ever just ate vanilla. you realize you love strawberry, but sometimes you still want vanilla. and every now and then, you crave mint chocolate chip, even though people say it tastes like toothpaste. (vanilla is she/her, strawberry is they/them, and mint chocolate chip is he/him.) so yeah, i wanted to tell you—i’m genderfluid, and i use they/them pronouns. i’m still me, but this is a part of who i am. i hope you can support me. i know you've been through your own journey with gender, and i really admire that. i don’t know exactly what it was like for you, but i hope you can understand what this means for me. right now, i’m pretty much out to you, caleb, and half-out to maddi. that’s it. i hope this all made sense. labels might change, and that’s okay. but this is what fits me right now. i love you, and i’m really glad i can share this with you

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chloesimaginationthings · 10 months ago

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Abby will have beef with toy Bonnie in FNAF 2..

#myart #chloesimagination #comic #fnaf #abby schmidt #toy bonnie #fnaf 2 #fnaf movie #fnaf bonnie #withered bonnie #fnaf fanart #five nights at freddy's #ABBY is gonna throw hands with toy Bonnie #toy Bonnie has no idea what danger he is in #tbh Abby probably will love the toys #up until she finds out they are made up of her friends parts #especially toy Bonnie give back og Bonnie’s face #if you don’t hand it over Abby will take it herself…#don’t mess with Abby…

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nvathuw · 18 days ago

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Lowkey misses the time when I participated in trại hè phương nam in cần thơ

Yapping in hashtags

#context trại hè phương nam (southern summer camp?) is just an exchange program for high school students in southern part of vietnam to meet #(actually we also take tests in our specialized subjects but thats my least fav part about it)#like one day my eng teacher asked me if i was up for a 3-day trip to cần thơ lol #i was like um let me ask my mom first #my mom agreed so i was like hmm its my first time travelling for more than a day without my parents so okay why not #and then in july i went to can tho with some students from diff classes and my two friends from my english specialized class #after arriving there we stayed at a hotel n i got paired with a girl from the maths specialized class #bro she was super pretty and friendly that i literally had a combination of bisexual panic and social awkwardness at the same time #she was the one who made the first conversation and we befriended eachother #so in the afternoon i decided to stick with her n her friends n a teacher to go out for dinner #(we even held hands while walking gldfkksjcjg i definitely had an ultimate bisexual crisis at that time)#after having dinner n strolling around for a while we came home and slept for the tomorrow’s tests lol #bro i swear the english test at the summer camp was so ass #after that we had a party to meetup with other students from diff schools (it was mid)#heres the fun thing:#my roommate whom i’d mentioned earlier asked me to go to the karaoke with her #at first I denied but the karaoke was like. giving a discount for a group of 10 people #and she was just literally begging for one more person to come with her n her friends to fill the group #so i was like what the hell sure #and that was one of the best decision id ever made #(u guys can guess what happened by finding that one skibidi karaoke pic i posted here a long time ago)#we spent time there until midnight n headed back to the hotel lol #the last day was pretty normal ig #we just went to earn the prizes (i got 3rd place n got a fakeass bronze medal because the test turned me into an ooga booga creature)#but. BUT #the part when our english team took pictures together was SO UNEXPECTED to me #3 like and i’ll make another post to elaborate it

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inbabylontheywept · 7 months ago

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bad dating stories time: the shoe incident

so in highschool, my best friend wasnt allowed to go on dates unless there was another couple there to keep an eye on him. part of this was his parents being insane, but also, part of it was him being insane. in a problem with no reasonable parties, there are no reasonable solutions.

at some point in my junior year, my sorta-gf broke up with me, and i just wasnt feeling dating, which was bad for my friend, because he had a good thing going with a girl he met in court.

he kind of hounded me about it. kept pushing me to just put me feet back in the dating pool and i wasnt real thrilled about it, because i knew he was pushing me for his own benefit, not mine, so i kept telling him to fuck off, and after a few weeks of being told that i would date when i was damn well ready, he eventually said: okay. what if i paid for the date AND found you a blind date AND all you had to do was show up?

and i shouldve said no, i know, but i let him wear me down, and i will own my fault in that. a date starting on such a stupid premise could never have gone well.

but he still managed to find a way to make it worse.

i dont know how long he tried to set a blind date up. it couldve been multiple attempts. he couldve stooped to this immediately. but what happened in the end was that he called a girl from the ward he attended - a girl that he knew had a giant, mushy crush on him - and he said: hey! how would you feel about going on a date this weekend?

(you know, implying it was with him, but never actually saying it.)

and she said YES WOW I WOULD LOVE TO and he said great! and then he called me up and said he found me a date.

i did not learn about his crimes until several weeks later. i will die swearing before god almighty that i would never have allowed this travesty to happen if i had known.

that was on a monday. the date of the date rolled around that friday evening, and im sorry to confess, i really phoned the whole thing in. i showed up in my favorite comfy outfit, which was also a fashion crime: basketball shorts and flipflops and a baja hoodie. it was super comfy but it made me look kind of crazy. i picked him up first, and then i picked up his date next, and then we went to pick up my date, and thats where you're gonna get the play by play.

i arrived, walked across the yard, and knocked on the front door. she opened it almost immediately, like shed been waiting right by it, and i could see her expression go from OMG IM SO EXCITED to super disappointed, then disgusted and finally pissed. and because i didn't know about my friends sins, i thought it was from my outfit. which seemed... harsh. like, hey, im allowed to be quirky, fuck you. also its a blind date, i thought the deal was that we were both going to be sad broken sacks of mortality.

anyway, we looked at each other for several seconds before she slammed the door in my face.

i looked back at my friend. he was sweating bullets. i dont know what he expected from this, but there was this big long pause where we both tried to figure out what to do, and then the door opened up, and her dad invited me in, and he said she was gonna need a few minutes to finish getting ready, and that in the meantime we could sit and talk.

we did not talk. we did sit. i sat down on the couch, and he sat down in a chair across the couch, and then instead of talking he cleaned his pistol on the coffee table. i wasnt actually sure if it was a threat, or if it was just a fidget thing for 40+ year old republican men, but when i tried to help he got snappy so i just watched him put a pistol back together.

he was okay at it.

eventually my date came downstairs, still mad as hell for reasons beyond my ken, and i felt pretty guilty for being such a mess because i thought that was why she was so angry. i tried to make up for by walking her to the car and getting the door for her, just generally trying to be extra polite, but before i could make it back to the drivers side, her dad called me back to the door. so i flipped around, went to the door, and immediately regreted my decision.

soon as i was within range, her dad got waaaay too close to me, leaned in, and said "whatever you do to her, i will do to you," and my brain went into overdrive making three consecutive realizations.

realization one was, damn, the pistol thing was a threat. that sucks. what an asshole. realization two was, wait, im autistic and even i know theres a 0% chance me and my date even hold hands, least of all boink. does this guy actually think there's even a 1% chance of anyone in that car getting laid tonight? is he an idiot? and then realization three went through, which was wait, is this guy threatening to fuck me? and unfortunately, with my brain doing so much processing, my mouth was left to run amok, so somewhere between realization 2 and 3, i said:

"i can't get pregnant"

which, i swear, wasn't actually me trying to be a smartass, it was just me pointing out that he couldn't actually follow up on that threat. it just wasn't possible. we do not live in the omegaverse and im not scared of you.

still, it was an insanely catastrophic thing to say, and the moment we both heard it, we bluescreened. that single sentence obliterated both of our momentary streams of consciousness like a saltine in front of a sand blaster. problem was, he'd probably gone his whole life not even realizing someone could say something that stupid, and making that realization was going to cost him a lot of thinking time. me though? i had been saying shit like that for 17 years, i didnt have to rewrite my expectations of human nature, i just had to plan an exit and start striding. so i was already halfway back to the car before i heard "hey. hey come back. Hey. Hey. HEY. HEY WAIT. HEY GET BACK HERE. HEY-"

and then i was in my car, and i drove away.

if this happened today, he'd have called her, and the whole thing wouldve imploded then and there, but back then, there were still a decent number of teenagers without cell phones. especially the teenagers of insane, gun toting parents. so she just said: whoa what was that all about? and i said: dont worry about it, he'll tell you about it when you get home.

and she said: ok and went back to staring daggers at me and my friend.

WHICH SURPRISINGLY isnt even how the story ends.

we went to an improv comedy show, and it was a disaster. it shouldve been like, 7/10 tops, but between my date being mad, and my friend having a good time, and me having the existential terror of knowing that a guy with a pistol was probably waiting outside his house for me to come back, it was easily 11/10. i laughed way too hard at everything. especially the jokes that flopped. id sit there in this mostly silent room and laugh until i dry heaved a little, and my date was absolutely disgusted, and even my friend was a little embarrassed, which would just make me laugh harder. i laughed so hard that night i could barely talk the next day. and then the show ended, and my friend said, you know, that was a good time, but i think we should maybe do something a little chiller? who wants to walk around the park? and his date said yeah, and my date said no, and i finally had mercy on the poor woman so i said, look, im gonna drop you off. and i am so, so sorry about this, but im dropping you off like a block away. super duper sorry.

do talk to your dad about the pistols thing if you dont want this happening more in the future tho.

and she said: okay. so i dropped her off, and she walked a block down, and that was that.

then i drove my friend and his date to a park that was good for wandering. i figured they wanted something more private, so instead of following them around point blank, i chose a park with this 30 foot rope tower, and i climbed to the top and i said: hey i can see you anywhere from up here, you are officially chaperoned from a distance. get panopticoned idiot. except my friend really is an idiot, and he didnt really get the whole 'now i dont have to third wheel so insanely hard with you guys' thing so he climbed up the tower too, and then his date followed behind him, so there are three people basically sitting together on top of a telephone pole.

and then they started making out.

i was close enough to hear it.

i didnt really know what to do so i was just kind of sitting there, dissociating, when some college kids came around and started shaking the tower. my friend's date went aaaaaaaaaa im afraid of heights :( and my friend went oh, dont worry, ill hold you tight ;) and i went hey, im gonna climb down and ask them to stop.

so i did climb down, and i did ask them to stop, and they flipped me off, which i wasnt even mad about. at that point i was i was like yeah, it would be weirder if this wasnt a mess. gods plan has been to fly this day like a 747 into my metaphorical twin towers and brother he is close enough for me to see him grinning through the cockpit window. still, eventually the college students got bored, so they climbed up the tower, which gave my friend and his date a window to climb down, and together we walked back to my car.

now, i cant explain why this is, but sitting back in the drivers seat was my carriage-back-into-a-pumpkin moment. i'd been chill about all the chaos, just rolling with the punches, but sitting down made me realize how much of a shitshow the day had been, and while i couldnt go back and fix all of it, i could go back and fix one thing.

so i told my friend and his date, hey, you two, stay here and don't do anything weird. don't. then i walked back to the rope tower, and i started picking up the shoes the college students had left at the base in order to climb.

about halfway through this, i realized that if i took all their shoes, they might think i was in it for the money, and i actually wanted them to know i was in it specifically to spite them. fuck those guys. so i put all the right shoes back, gave myself a 100 foot headstart, yelled "nice shoes, assholes", did a little jig, and started running.

my advice to everyone is that college students are faster than you think. even with the headstart, and the whole climb down the tower thing, i was still only fivish seconds ahead of them by the time i got to my car. i flung the door open, looked in the backseat, didnt see anyone, flung the stolen shoes in the backseat, heard two "ow"s, took that as proof of presence, jumped in and pealed out of the lot.

my friend and his date popped up a few seconds later. they were, uh, doing something weird in the back seat. my one request - obliterated.

they climbed up to ask where the hell all the shoes had come from, and i was like yeah i stole them from the college students, and they were like oh. cool. hope you had fun. and i was like, i did. i did. but speaking of fun, what were you doing back there?

and for the first time in my buddies life, i think he was actually embarassed.

#dating stories #anecdotes #long post #funny story #babylon #im really bad at dating #like i can do a lot better than this but also it just was kind of a nightmare for me #shit like this did make the whole thing easier tho #like #every date after this i could go you know ive seen how bad it can get #and i lived #didnt even get shot #writing

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bunnis-monsters · 2 months ago

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Late night thoughts about incubus husband…

He’s such a flirt. Every time you go out he dons a different human disguise. It’s always annoying seeing him flit about the bar, changing himself to cater to whichever person he’s talking to.

Really, your husband just wants to make you jealous. He’s a bit of an attention whore, and usually you’d just tug him away and ride his cock until he’s sensitive and crying, begging to fill your cunt with his cum but being denied because of how bad he was.

But he went a bit too far tonight.

You were finishing off your drink when you spotted him across the bar, his fingers twirling a woman’s hair. Already this was a bit much for you, and you stood to stop him.

But you froze in place when his eyes glanced towards you before he wrapped an arm around her waist. “Looks like I’m taking home a pretty lady tonight. Don’t worry, my wife won’t mind.”

He glanced back to gauge your reaction, excited to face some kind of kinky punishment for being a flirty brat… but instead he was met with your teary eyes.

Instantly the woman was forgotten as he followed you out. “W-wait, please, you know I wasn’t being serious, right? I was just-“

You turned on your heels, pointing a finger into his chest. “Maybe to someone like you marriage is just some kind of fun game, but it actually means something to me! I don’t exactly enjoy you treating my love for you like a joke!”

His eyes went wide with shock and hurt, his disguise disappearing as he reverted back to his original form. The sight of his tail twitching nervously almost made you soften… almost.

“My love… that’s not-“

You swatted his hand away, storming off. “… find somewhere else to sleep tonight. I… need to rethink some things.”

Your husband stared at your back as you left, his chest aching in a way it never had before. Could this really be the end of your marriage? No, no of course not. You loved him, and he would do anything for you. There’s no way such a small issue could divide the two of you that easy… right?

Oh how wrong he was.

When he attempted to come home the next night, his clothes and personal items were packed up on the porch, and the locks were changed.

This wasn’t something he could just smooth over with a few kisses and a good fuck. You were genuinely upset, something he could barely comprehend.

Upset? Why, because he was being a bit of a brat? His view only changed when he was complaining to a friend through tears and a glass of wine.

“Well, what would you do if she did the same?”

The glass shattered in his hand, his pupils turning into slits. The image of you walking up to a man, cooing and attempting to seduce him right in front of your husband made his heart boil in a jealous rage.

So that’s how you felt…

“I’m an idiot…” he murmured, looking at your picture. When he married you, he swore off ever having sex with another person. You were his sole source of sustenance and love, his only reason to breathe and live.

If he lost you, what would he even do besides sob until his heart stopped?

If he wanted to keep his beloved, he’d have to win you back…

Fortunately, the incubus knew just what to do.

Part 2? And should I go the yandere route or normal route?

—————————

NSFW TAGLIST: @avalordream @icommitwarcrimes @bazpire @im-eating-rn @anglingforlevels @kinshenewa @pasteldaze @yoongiigolden @peachesdabunny @murder-hobo @leiselotte @misswonderfrojustice @dij-ology @i8kaeya @lollboogurl @h3110-dar1in9 @keikokashi @aliceattheart @mssmil3y @namjoons-t1ddies @izarosf1833 @healanette @lem-hhn @spufflepuff @honey-crypt @karljra @zyettemoon1800 @exodiam @vexillum-moeru @imperfectlyperfectprincess1 @enchantedsylveon @mysticranger575 @readeryn68 @danielle143 @kittenlover614 @filthybunny420 @annavittoria-mm @makimamybelovedwife @blubearxy @omglovelylaila @toocollectionchaos-universe-blog @fruk-you-usuk-fans @wil10wthetree @hammerhead96-blog @slightlyusedfloormat @bubblez-blop @sunshineangel-reads @heroneki-neko @soapybabyboop @anonymouskiwi

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babyboy555777 · 3 months ago

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Overheard

Summary: Rafe over hears you and Sarah talking about your night at the beach with a hookup.

CW: possessive Rafe, rough sex, name calling, unprotected sex (wrap before tap), bit of choking and hair pulling, forced to stay quiet, mirror sex. (Should be it)

(Did not proofread bc this took me so long already.)

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You and Sarah had been friends for years. You moved to Outer Banks as a child and took quite a liking to Sarah and her family. You were always known to drop in whenever you felt needed. You shared many nights at their house and basically became a part of the family.

On this specific day it was like any other. You hopped in your jeep and quickly sped off to Tannyhill. Soon arriving in the circle driveway of the mansion you quickly got out and headed to the door knocking loud, so you were heard.

The door was swung open by none other than the snarky stuck-up brother of your best friend, Rafe Cameron. “You don’t have to knock.” He sighed “you basically live here anyway.” He scolded you. You pushed past him and into the entrance way of the house.

“Where’s Sarah?” Rafe shut the door and then pointed up the stairs to her room. “Where she always is waiting for you.” You nodded your head at him giving him one last look before making your way up to her room. He watched as you quickly sprinted up the stairs. Watching as your hips moved and how your ass was in perfect view.

He shook his head relieving the thought of you knowing how wrong it was. Soon he made his way up the stairs as well to his own room that was until he heard you talking in a not so quiet voice to his sister.

"I wouldn't say it was awful, just not what I wanted." Sarah cocked a brow to you. "Well, what did you want. I mean you wanted to have sex with him, right? What more could you want. You practically begged me for his number." She chuckled.

"Yes, I did." Rafe moved closer to the crack in the door leaning his ear closer. He listened closely to your words. "What does she mean" he thought to himself.

Yes, Rafe knew you, but he thought he knew you well enough. He never saw you as the type to beg for sex with someone, or much less really want it.

In his head you always were the type to never come off as sexual but definitely not innocent. He truly just thought that in this world full of sex you had no idea what you were doing or had any care for it, and he was so wrong.

"Okay yes I wanted it. Like the party last week, I wanted to just be dragged off with him somewhere because I thought he'd fuck the shit out of me. See that's what I wanted." You crossed your arms and huffed.

"Okay, then what happened that you didn't like? Was it the fact it was on the beach or like what?"

"I guess the best way I could put it is I wanted it to me more filled with lust and desire. I wanted it to be rough and I wanted to not be able to walk today." You chuckled along with Sarah.

"Well how did it go for you?" You sighed trying to think back to last night. "Well, he took me out on the beach, and he had a blanket with him. Talking happens and whatever and I end up straddling his lap."

Sarah nodded her head waiting for you to continue, but Rafe stood out the door as he held his breath. He was pissed. You fucking some other man and he didn't even do it right pissed him off more. But he stayed quiet.

"We made out a bit and I started to grind on him a bit. Obviously, he got a rise up, so I got all cocky and pulled his dick out. After a few moments of me just doing my thing, I pulled my bikini bottoms off and rode him. He was like..." You paused trying to find your words.

"It was like he never wanted it to end and not saying I don't like that, but I asked if he could get on top and we'd go faster he just straight up refused. Which basically dried me up and I didn't even want to do it anymore."

Sarah tried to hold back her laughter. "Hey, it's not funny I'm being dead serious." You smacked her arm but laughed as well.

Rafe was the only one not laughing. Red filled his face with anger, and he scoffed at your words. "Didn't even fuck her the way she wanted. What a pussy." He thought.

"Well maybe you'll find someone who just rocks your world." Sarah smirked. "Yeah, as if." But only if you knew what little plan Rafe had planted into his mind.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

That same day you had planned on staying the night with Sarah. Of course, to everyone in the house it was no surprise. It was now late at night and Sarah was asleep. However, you sat awake in her bed scrolling mindlessly on your phone till a text popped up.

"Come here."

You read the text from Rafe. Confusion spread across your face. You texted back.

"Sarahs asleep. Where are you?"

"My room. Just come here you won't wake her, she's a heavy sleeper."

You sighed and turned off your phone placing it on the nightstand beside you. Slowly you rose up from the bed making your way to the bedroom door making sure to stay as quiet as possible.

You looked back at Sarah one last time before closing the door. You slowly tiptoed your way down the hall to Rafe's room. You raised your hand to the door knocking slow and quiet. Soon Rafe opened up the door nodding his head telling you to come in.

As you walked in you looked around the room that was dimly lit by the small lamp setting you realized you had never seen Rafe's room before. "I have never been in here." You turn back and look at him leaning up against the door. "Cleaner than I thought." You chuckled.

He shrugged. "Don't know why you'd ever think that. I believe I come off as a clean person." He paused. "Unlike you." You looked at him confused for a moment as he stepped closer to you, his rich cologne filled your nostrils.

"I heard you. Talking to my sister earlier today." He walked behind you. "How you wanted to be fucked hard." He leaned in closer to your ear whispering. "How you want it to be filled with lust and desire."

His words sent chills down your spine and your own words choked up. "So, fucking dirty and here I was thinking you didn't care about these things." His hands slowly made their way to your hips giving a slight squeez.

"Rafe..." You spoke barley above a whisper. He smirked against your neck placing a small kiss right below your ear. "Is that what you want? To be fucked like the whore you are?"

Your legs squeez together trying to release some of the tension that was building up. You let out a shaky breath as one of his hands trail down to the waistband of your sleep shorts.

"Is this what you want?" He whispered. You nodded your head squeezing your eyes shut as he played with the waist band. "Words."

"Yes, I want this." He slid his hands down your shorts. Two of his fingers rubbed against your folds. You let out a breath you didn't know you were holding in. He rubbed circles around your clit as your hips moved forward chasing his touch.

You let out a small moan and immediately Rafe slaps his hand onto your mouth. "What you want the whole house to hear? As much as I'd love to hear your pretty little moans you need to keep quiet."

You nodded your head frantically. "Good girl." Rafe then removes his hand from you making you whine at his loss of touch. He stepped back from you grabbing your hand and leading you to the bed. He pushed you down on the bed and you let out a gasp.

He crawled on top of you and basically ripped off your clothes and his throwing them on the floor. Rafe started to kiss your neck earning a small gasp to leave your lips.

"Rafe please..." you whine out. "What do you want?" He smirked against your neck. The words couldn't seem to leave your lips as he left a bite on your sweet spot right below your ear.

"Don't go quiet on me now." He rose up to look at you. "Tell me what you want." You started to bite your lip at the sight of him. The sly smirk planted across his face. His shoulder muscles showing more featured as he held himself up.

"Fuck me Rafe...." As soon as the words slipped from your lips it felt like sweet honey on his tongue. He spread your legs open, and you wrapped them around his waist trying to pull him in.

"So needy?" He chuckled making you want him even more. "Rafe..." You breathed out. "Words sweetheart." He smirked once again. "Rafe please fuck me." Your wish was his command.

He lined himself up to you and without warning slammed into you making you let out a loud cry. He quickly slapped his hand over your mouth. "Shut the fuck up." He groaned out.

Your eyes rolled into the back of your head as he thrusted into your cunt hard and fast. "You feel so fucking good. Holy shit." His words were breathless as if he blurted them out of pure pleasure.

His hand still planted on your mouth as the other held your waist tightly. You threw your head back at all the new pleasure rising in you. Rafe looked down at you smirking at the absolute complete mess you were in this moment.

"You like how I fuck you. I bet that pussy boy could never be like this with you." You moaned against his hand as the words leaped off his tongue.

As Rafe pounded into you harder and faster the headboard started to move. He let go of your waist grabbing the board holding himself up as he stayed covering your mouth. You watched his muscles tensed and sweat glistened on his body.

All the pleasure plus the view of him really added onto you forgetting about your shitty hookup. "Fuck..." He groaned out throwing his head back and closing his eyes.

In an instant Rafe grabbed you off the bed still fucking you and took you into the big bathroom inside his bedroom. He turned you around facing the mirror. "I want you to see that pretty little face when you cum for me. A face you'll never see without me fucking you like this."

He held your mouth again making you look at the beautiful mess you were in the mirror. Him pounding in and out of you. Your breast bouncing. Him making direct eye contact with you through the mirror itself.

Muffed moans and him slapping his thighs against your ass echoed through the tile walls. As you could feel your peak approaching you closed your eyes. "No." In one swift move he wrapped his hands around the back of your hair forcing your eyes open to see yourself.

He smirked as he watched you bite your lip holding back you loud beautiful moans. With a few sloppier thrust Rafe was chasing his own high. Throwing his head back as he pounded into you. "Fuck me." He groaned out.

Your high had reached his peak biting your lip so hard blood started to form. Rafe grabbed you pulling you against your chest holding your neck. "Come on baby." He whispered in your ear making you crash.

Your legs started to shake and the image of you two in the mirror was all too much to handle. Rafe started to come down from his own high. His thrust and movements slowing down as his hot liquid shot inside you.

Rafe turned your head towards his planting a sloppy wet kiss on your lips and he pulled out of you. Rafe pulled away, and you both panted for air more than ever. "That's how you should be fucked." A smirk planted across his lips.

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illyrianbitch · 2 months ago

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Are We Still Friends? — Part Three

Pairing: Reader x Azriel

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

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

Word Count: 8.5k

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

Part Two ┃ Series Masterlist ┃ Part Four

✹ ✶ 𖧷 ✶✹

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Azriel cleared his throat. “Can we talk?”

“Now you want to talk?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Yes.”

“Then what are you sorry for?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Just what?”

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

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

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

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

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

And then you were gone.

✹ ✶ 𖧷 ✶✹

Training couldn’t have come at a better time.

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

And for a while, it worked.

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

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

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

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

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

“It’s nothing. Seriously.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Shit, Cass, way to play sides.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Cassian sighed, rubbing the back of his neck.

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

“Like what?”

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

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

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

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

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

She didn’t know you.

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

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

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

“It’s not fair.”

“No, it’s not.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

✹ ✶ 𖧷 ✶✹

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

“We need to talk,” Cassian said.

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

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

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

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

Cassian crossed his arms. “Because of you.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

The words hit harder than Azriel had anticipated.

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

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

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

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

He needed to leave.

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

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

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

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

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

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

Those words hit a nerve.

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

“Cass, just let it go.”

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

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

“Cassian—”

The slap came out of nowhere.

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

“What the hell was that?”

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

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

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

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

The third slap was the breaking point.

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

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

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

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

“This is stupid!”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

That you’d accept it.

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

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

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

✹ ✶ 𖧷 ✶✹

You were walking without a proper destination in mind.

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

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

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

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

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

A small sigh. “Azriel?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Silence.

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Clearly.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You shot her an unimpressed look.

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

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

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

“Maybe not violate his privacy?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Like what?”

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

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

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

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

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

Her words stung more than they should have.

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

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

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

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

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

Selene had always existed a certain way in your mind.

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

But then Az started to change.

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

And then you’d met her.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

She shook her head. “No I didn’t.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Do you really believe that?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You scanned her. “Runa, right?”

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

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

Runa shrugged nonchalantly, almost amused. “Oops.”

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

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

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

“Do you know who I am?”

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

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

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

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

✹ ✶ 𖧷 ✶✹

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

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

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

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

thank you for reading!!<3

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