#afternoons with the blinds drawn

[kiszjuli]

MY GIRL .ᐟ

✸ shy!mark x fem!reader | genre. fluff. | w.c 2.2k | ♡

↳ synopsis. in which mark has apparently claimed you in his heart, and to no one other than his friends. hiding his feelings thinking that he didn’t have a chance, he gets extremely jealous when someone tries to ask you out for valentine’s day. you’re his girl.

↳playlist. designer - nct 127, just the way you are - bruno mars, can’t take my eyes off of you - frankie valli, when im with you - nct dream, night poem - nct dream, can’t help falling in love - elvis presley.

the student lounge was buzzing with laughter and chatter, the sounds of friends catching up and making plans for the upcoming 3-day weekend. mark sat at a corner table with his group of friends, jeno, donghyuck, and jisung. but his gaze and attention kept drifting to you. you were seated at a nearby table with your own group of friends. you were always effortlessly surrounded by people, your laugh ringing in his ears like his favorite song. mark had always admired how easily you lit up every room you entered, how everyone seemed drawn to your warmth and energy. and how-

“earth to mark,” jeno’s voice broke him from his thoughts, and Mark blinked, seeing his friends hand waving in front of his face. he looked up at his friend with a forced smile.

“huh? oh, yeah, sorry,” he mumbled, fixing the hat on his head, trying to look more engaged but failing.

jisung raised an eyebrow, noticing the direction mark was looking. “you good, man?” he asked, his voice casual but with an underlying hint of curiosity.

nodding quickly, mark then shifted in his seat. “yeah, i’m fine. just… trying to focus, you know?” He waved his hand brushing them off, though his eyes couldn’t help but flick back to you for a moment.

donghyuck catches where his eyes dart, and a knowing look forms on his face. “you sure? you’ve been staring at her all afternoon,” donghyuck added with a grin.

mark immediately blushed, feeling heat rush to his face. “what? no! i wasn’t staring,” he protested a little too quickly, tugging his hat lower to hide his face. “i just—uh, i’m just lost in thought.” he muttered, his voice cracking slightly as he rubbed the back of his neck.

jeno smirked. “uh-huh, sure. if you say so. but you’ve been acting kinda weird lately. you sure there’s nothing going on?”

mark swallowed hard, his heart racing at the thought of you. He had always admired you from a distance, but you were popular, way out of his league. his friends knew about his little crush on you, but he didn’t think they understood the full extent of it. he wasn’t even sure you saw him as more than a mere friend.

“i-idon’t know,” mark muttered, his voice quieter than usual. “it’s just… she’s always so surrounded by people, you know? she’s pretty much got everyone’s attention all the time.”

jeno leaned back, a teasing glint in his eyes. “she’s definitely got yours” his comment earning a laugh from the other two.

mark’s face flushed deeper, and he slumped in his seat. “no guys, seriously,” he mumbled, trying to play it cool but failing miserably. “she’s just… i don’t know. she’s popular, and i’m just… me.”

“yeah, well, ‘just you’ is exactly why you’ve got a shot,” donghyuck said, his voice light but encouraging. “you think she doesn’t notice? she does. she’s not blind, mark.”

“exactly,” jisung added, leaning back in his chair. “you’ve been acting like a nervous mess every time she’s around. maybe it’s time you do something about it, yeah?”

mark shot a small glance toward your table, his heart skipping a beat as you caught his eye for a second. he quickly adverted his gaze, pretending to be interested in something in front of him.

jeno chuckled and patted him on the back. “mark, you’ve got this. you just have to take a chance. she’s not some unreachable goddess. if you really like her, go for it. stop hiding behind your ‘I’m fine’ act.”

mark gave him a small, unsure smile. “maybe. i’ll think about it,”

but deep down, mark was terrified. he could never imagine you looking at him the way he looked at you. you were popular, funny, and effortlessly charming. he was… well, just mark.

as you laughed from across the room, mark’s heart gave an involuntary flutter. maybe his friends were right—maybe it was time to stand up and stop pretending he didn’t want more. more than to just watch you from afar. but for now, he stayed where he was, silently watching, unsure if he’d ever have the courage to tell you how he truly felt.

—

classes were now over, and small groups of people were in the large theater, helping set up for valentine's day. your school was hosting a valentine's day fundraiser, where the campus would raise money for local charities. this year's theme 'music for the heart'- likewise, the main attraction was the music appreciation raffle.

you were there of course, running the “song dedication booth” where students could pay a small fee to have a song dedicated to someone during the open mic. you decorated the booth yourself: choosing some white fairy lights to outline the sign, with red heart balloons all around, and of course some cut out music notes that you had done earlier.

“okay, so you want ‘can’t take my eyes off you’ for your girlfriend? great choice,” you said with a smile, writing the request onto the list. “she’ll love it.”

mark watched you from the edge of the stage, where he was tuning his guitar for his performance later. he could hear your cheerful voice as you talked with students, helping them pick the perfect songs. the way you talked about music, your passion shining through every suggestion and question, made his chest tighten.

“she’s really into this,” jisung remarked from behind the drum kit, glancing between mark and you. “you’re playing tonight, right? finally gonna make your move?”

mark glanced over at his friends—jeno adjusting his bass strap and dongkyuck pretending to help. he quickly averted his gaze, nervously strumming his guitar. “i don’t know,” he muttered. “she’s got so much going on. she’s busy.” he made excuses.

donghyuck rolled his eyes, crossing his arms. “she’s running a music related booth, mark. if there’s ever a chance to make conversation, it’s right now.”

hesitant, he glanced back at you as you laughed with another student. “but what if she doesn’t feel the same way?” he said quietly.

“dude, she smiles at you differently than anyone else,” jeno chimed in. “i don’t think you realize how obvious you are. she’s into you too, but you can’t wait forever.”

the idea of putting himself out there, of confessing how he felt in front of everyone, made his palms sweat. he just couldn’t.

“why not dedicate your song to her?” jisung spoke up, his voice softer

mark’s heart pounded knowing that his song was already dedicated to you, having thought about it for weeks beforehand. he was going to perform ‘just the way you are’ by bruno mars.

mark glanced up, and his heart nearly stopped when he saw you looking his way, the fairy lights illuminated your features in the best way as you gave him a small, bright smile. he awkwardly waved back, his stomach flipping as you returned your attention to the students walking your way.

“smooth,” donghyuck muttered, biting back a laugh.

“shut up,” mark mumbled, his face heating up.

—

the lights in the theater dimmed, and the crowd hushed as mark stepped onto the stage, his guitar slung over his shoulder. you stood near the back of the room, watching as he adjusted the mic, his hands trembling slightly. you felt a smile creeping to your face.

“this one’s for someone special,” he said, his voice quiet but steady.

your best friend, winter nudged your shoulder and you glared at her with a laugh. she always teased you about your slight crush on the boy.

as the familiar chords of “just the way you are” filled the room, your heart skipped a beat. mark’s voice was soft yet filled with emotion, his eyes scanning the crowd until they landed on you.

when he sang, “her eyes, her eyes make the stars look like they’re not shining,” you felt your cheeks flush. feeling like you were looking too much into it, you shook your head slightly and glanced down at your shoes.

by the final verse, everyone was entranced by his voice. when the song ended, the applause broke the spell, but mark’s gaze lingered on yours, his lips curving into a shy smile.

—

the rest of the fundraiser went extremely well. the crowd winding down and now you found yourself starting to pack up your things at you booth.

“hey,” a voice interrupted, making you glance up.

It was a guy from one of your classes, holding a small bouquet of roses in his hands. he looked nervous but determined as he stepped closer to your booth.

“oh, hi!” you greeted warmly, taking a pause from packing up.

mark saw it from across the student center—the way the guy nervously walked up to you, clutching a small bouquet of flowers, his face tinged pink, your kind but still friendly smile. frozen in place, his chest tightened. he couldn’t hear the conversation, but he didn’t need to. the way the guy was smiling at you and the way you politely smiled back made it clear what was happening. but you were his girl. even if that guy didn’t know it yet.

of course someone else would ask you out. he knew it was going to happen at some point, always surrounded by people who admired you. and mark? he’d spent months hiding his feelings, thinking you’d never look at him that way.

but now as he sees the guy walk away from you-missing the slight frown on his face-he can’t stop his own two feet from moving towards you. his mind was racing. did you say yes? were you off limits now? labeled as someone else’s girl?

as he approached, you were gathering the last few things from your booth. you noticed him and looked up.

“oh, mark?” you asked tilting your head, still with bright eyes.

“hey,” he said, trying to sound casual but failing as his voice cracked slightly. “i, uh… i saw you talking to that guy just now.”

you raised an eyebrow, catching the uncertainty in his tone. “huh? oh yeah, he was just—”

“did you—did you say yes?” the words spilling out before he could stop them, and he winced as soon as he realized how frantic his voice sounded.

you blinked in surprise. “what?”

“to, uh… whatever he asked you…” mark said, rubbing the back of his neck, his face flushing. he was getting more and more choked up by the second. “i mean, obviously it’s fine if you did..it’s probably none of my business and- he seemed nice. i just…” he trailed off, his words stringing along as he avoided your gaze.

you stared at him for a moment before realizing what he was getting at. a soft laugh escaped your lips, and mark’s eyes darted to you, his brow furrowing in confusion. “what’s funny?”

“no, i didn’t say yes,” you said simply, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear. “i told him i wasn’t interested.” you said looking up, your grin still lingering on your face.

mark felt relief wash over him as a small smile tugged at his lips. however, disbelief still clouded his mind. “you..didn't?”

shaking your head you spoke. “nope,” your smile was warm yet teasing as you say his rosy cheeks darken a little. “i think i’d rather wait for someone i actually want to say yes to,”

mark just blinked, not knowing how to react. what did that mean? could you be talking about him? or was it someone else? why would you-

“mark,” you called out, breaking him from his thoughts. “if..you have something to say, now would be the time,” you said softly, stepping a little closer.

“well, i-i have been wanting to say something for a while now,” he started, taking a breath. “i like you a lot, like- a lot..but i just didn’t think i had a chance..”

your smile widened feeling a small heat rise to your cheeks too. “you always had a chance mark,”

relief mixed with disbelief washed over him. you felt the same way the whole time? he let out a nervous laugh, his shoulders finally relaxing. “so, does this mean i can ask you out now?”

“i think you just did,” you teased, your fingers fiddling together, as your heart beat a little faster.

mark grinned, his confidence growing. he reached out for your hand, still shaking but sure. “well, then… will you be my valentine?” he wanted to ask ‘will you be my girl?’ but this would do for now-slow steps, he told himself.

“i’d love to,” you replied, your eyes sparkling as you smiled at him.

“y/n! can you come here for a sec?” winter called for you from the studio room. she apologized later once she found out was was happening, but you brushed it off saying it was okay.

you looked to mark and stepped closer. you softly pressed your lips to his cheekbone and pulled away slowly. “come find me later?��

he nods with a hum, too star struck by you to form a sentence, or even a word. you smiled and walked off, now knowing that you finally had the guy you wanted. and mark walked back to his guitar to his teasing friends with a dopey, cheesy smile knowing that you were his girl.

and in that moment, mark felt that every doubt, every little hesitation, had been worth it.

—

⁀➷⊹ ࣪ ˖~ THE LA LA LOVE SERIES .ᐟ

taggies(open) ↳ @kittydollzz @huffnpufffckk @completelyjae @lovesuhng @nae-vm @ayibdorrt @chocoriki @yowmaman @yukisroom97

[heliosunny]

Hi! I love your depictions of Phainon, especially when he toes the line between charming and threatening. I’m a sucker for a good unrequited love trope, so could you write a scenario where reader was in love with Phainon in the past but he treated her the same as he did everyone else so she eventually loses hope and gives up, so now he’s the one that has to chase after her? Thank you so much!

Yandere!Phainon x Fem!Reader

The first time you saw Phainon, you thought the stars had fallen from the sky and taken the shape of a man. He was brilliant, untouchable, a light too blinding for anyone to hold. And yet, you tried.

You were seven when you first told Phainon you wanted to marry him.

It had been one of those golden afternoons, the sun slanting through the trees, painting his silver hair with a soft glow. He sat on a patch of grass beside you, staring up at the clouds like they held all the answers in the world.

“Phai!” you had said, kicking your legs idly. “When we grow up, let’s get married.”

“Married?”

“Yes! Like grown-ups do! You’ll protect me, and I’ll make you happy.”

Phainon tilted his head, considering. Then, with a soft laugh, he shrugged. “Alright.”

And that was it. A simple agreement, like you had just decided to play a new game. He didn’t think about it beyond that moment, and maybe, at the time, you didn’t either. But as you grew, the weight of those words stayed with you.

Years passed. You stayed by his side, always reaching, always hoping. Phainon was kind—always had been. But as you both grew older, you noticed something.

He was kind to everyone.

He smiled at others the way he smiled at you. He listened to them, helped them, comforted them—just as he did with you. Maybe a little softer, a little gentler when it came to you, but never in the way you wanted. Never in a way that meant something more.

And so, the quiet realization settled in your heart like a stone sinking into a river.

You weren’t special.

Not to him.

And then there was that day. The day you knew, without a doubt, that you were just another name in his life.

It had been at the annual festival, a celebration where lights hung from every corner, where laughter echoed in the streets, and where lovers exchanged tokens of devotion.

You had spent all morning crafting a gift for him—something small but meaningful. A charm, woven with threads of silver and blue, the colors that reminded you of him. A silent confession, the last desperate hope that maybe, maybe he would see you.

When you found him, he was standing beneath the lantern-lit trees. But he wasn’t alone. A girl stood before him, cheeks dusted pink, hands nervously clasping a carefully wrapped box.

You had seen it before—people gravitating toward Phainon, drawn in by his quiet kindness, by the way he made everyone feel special. You told yourself it didn’t matter. That he would just smile, politely decline, and move on.

“Oh, for me?” Phainon had taken the box gently, his voice carrying that familiar warmth, the kind that once made your heart race. “That’s really kind of you.”

You stood there, gift clutched in your hands, heart pounding as he opened it. Inside was a scarf, delicately embroidered, clearly made with effort and care. He held it up, smiling, before effortlessly wrapping it around his neck.

“It’s beautiful. Thank you.” he said. And then, without hesitation, he lifted a hand and gently patted the girl’s head.

It was the same gesture he had given you countless times. The same words. The same smile.

Something inside you shattered.

You had spent years thinking you were different, that maybe, maybe the way he treated you was special. But here he was, accepting another person’s affection with the same grace, the same warmth.

You weren’t special.

Not to him.

Your hands trembled around the charm you had made. And then, slowly, you let it fall to the ground.

Phainon never even noticed.

----

“Y/N”

His voice cut through the air, quiet but firm. You stiffened for half a second before turning to face him.

“What is it, Phainon?”

“You’ve been avoiding me.”

“I’ve been busy”

“I never meant to make you feel like—”

You stopped him before he could finish.

Eventually, you stopped seeking him out, stopped waiting for his attention. And as days turned to weeks, you started avoiding him entirely.

But you never got the chance to truly leave him behind.

Because then the war came.

It happened suddenly—one evening, the village bells rang in alarm. Riders arrived from the capital, shouting of an approaching army, of an impending invasion. Chaos followed, families scrambling to gather their belongings, the town elders deciding who would flee and who would stay to defend.

Phainon, of course, chose to fight.

You still remember the look in his eyes that night. Determined. Steady. As if the boy who once watched clouds beside you had already faded into something sharper.

“You’re leaving, right?” His voice was firm, but there was something uneasy beneath it. “You should go to the capital—it’s safer there.”

You had hesitated, watching the way his hand gripped the hilt of a borrowed sword.

He was afraid.

You had known him long enough to see it, even if no one else could.

“I—” Your throat tightened. What were you supposed to say? Be safe? Don’t fight? You had spent so long pulling away, trying to make peace with the idea that you were just another person to him. And yet, standing there, watching him prepare for battle, you couldn’t help but remember the Phainon you once loved.

In the end, you only nodded. “Goodbye, Phai.”

The way his breath caught at your words—it almost made you stay.

But you didn’t.

You left with the others, escaping toward the capital as the village prepared for war.

You never thought you’d see him again.

Years Later – The Capital

The war changed everything.

Your village, though damaged, had survived—but life could never return to what it was. The battle had taken many, scattered others, and those who returned were never quite the same.

You, like so many others, had built a new life in the capital.

With your skill in design, you carved out a name for yourself among the noble elite. What had once been a simple love for embroidery and fabric turned into something much greater—a business, a reputation, a sense of independence you never had before.

You ran a high-end clothing shop near the palace, known for its elegant craftsmanship and modern designs. Nobles sought you out, eager for your work, for the quiet dignity and beauty woven into each piece you created.

And here, in the bustling streets of the capital, you finally found yourself.

----

The soft chime of the shop bell barely drew your attention as you worked, fingers carefully adjusting the pearl buttons on an elegant gown. You were used to high-ranking visitors—nobles, courtiers, even foreign envoys—so the presence of yet another escort was nothing unusual.

“Sir Luvain, if you’d follow me, the tailor should be expecting you.”

Slowly, you lifted your gaze.

Phainon stood at the entrance, clad in the silver-trimmed armor of the royal knights, the sigil of his rank gleaming against his shoulder. He had grown taller, stronger—the soft edges of youth sharpened into something disciplined, something restrained.

For a moment, neither of you spoke.

Then, as if nothing had happened, you turned your attention to his companion, the nobleman he was escorting. With practiced ease, you greeted him, all professionalism and grace.

“Lord Luvain, I trust you received my message regarding the final adjustments?”

The noble smiled, stepping forward to allow you to take his measurements. He spoke lightly about the upcoming banquet, about how eager he was to debut his attire. You listened, responded when necessary, all while acutely aware of Phainon standing silently at the edge of the room.

“Your measurements are set, my lord.” you finally said, stepping back with a slight bow. “This will be delivered two days later. If there are any final alterations needed, send word.”

Luvain gave a pleased nod before turning back to Phainon.

Phainon hesitated for just a second—his lips parted slightly as if he wanted to say something—but you were already turning away, reaching for your next task.

----

The bell chimed again the next morning.

You didn’t expect to see him. Not so soon.

But there he stood, alone this time.

You frowned as you saw his handsome face.. ruined. His lip was cut, a faint bruise darkening his cheekbone. He wasn’t injured enough for it to be from battle. No, this was different. A personal kind of fight.

Still, you didn’t ask.

Instead, you simply set down your tools and gestured toward the small seating area. “Sit.”

“…I didn’t come for treatment.”

“I didn’t ask why you came.”

Perhaps it was the casual, almost dismissive way you spoke. Perhaps it was the fact that, for the first time, you weren’t treating him as something untouchable.

But he obeyed.

As he settled into the chair, you retrieved a small cloth and a jar of medicinal balm, kneeling beside him to gently dab at the cut on his lip.

He winced slightly. “I could do this myself.”

“You’re terrible at it”

Up close, you noticed the slight exhaustion in his expression. You had heard stories—whispers of how politics in the palace were ruthless, how those who rose too quickly often became the target of others.

Perhaps he was learning that now.

It had been years since he left the village, years spent surrounded by flattery, empty smiles, and noble courtiers who praised him not for who he was, but for what he had become.

Yet here you were. Treating him with the same quiet care as always.

You hadn’t changed at all.

And maybe—maybe that was what unsettled him most.

“There.” You finally pulled away, capping the jar and setting it aside. “Try not to get hit next time.”

“You’re not going to ask what happened?”

You glanced at him, then gave a light shrug. “Does it matter?”

Then, with a soft sigh, you stood. “Well, if that’s all, Sir Phainon, I have other clients to attend to.”

You had never called him that before.

Not Phai. Not Phainon. Just Sir Phainon, like he was any other knight, any other customer.

Something about it unsettled him.

But before he could dwell on it, you had already turned away.

“Take care” you said over your shoulder, already moving on.

As he stepped out of the shop, Phainon barely noticed the bustling streets around him. His mind was elsewhere, replaying the way you had looked at him—or rather, the way you didn’t.

He had spent so long being adored, sought after, respected. And yet, none of it compared to the simple, quiet way you had once looked at him.

The way you didn’t anymore.

---

Days turned into weeks, and Phainon didn’t disappear like before.

If anything, he only climbed higher.

You heard the murmurs in the capital—of his growing reputation, his skill on the battlefield, his unwavering determination. His name was spoken with admiration, his presence sought after by nobles eager to have a knight of his caliber within their inner circles.

But no matter how high he reached, no matter how many doors opened for him, he always seemed to find his way back to you.

At first, it was subtle. A chance meeting in the marketplace, an escort duty that just so happened to lead him near your shop. Then it became deliberate. He would stop by under the guise of checking on his previous order, lingering too long, watching you in that unreadable way.

You had long stopped being a girl waiting for his affection. You had built your own life, your own success. But somehow, he refused to let you slip away.

----

“You may take the next few days off for your wedding. Enjoy yourself.”

Your worker’s eyes lit up, bowing in gratitude before hurrying off. You watched her go, your fingers idly tracing over the fabric on your desk.

Marriage.

You hadn’t thought about it much.

But now, with your employee stepping away for her own wedding, it dawned on you—it was that time in life where people settled down, where friends and acquaintances from your village were likely married with families of their own.

Once upon a time, you had naïvely dreamed of it, too.

A childhood promise, whispered in the golden glow of late afternoons—"Marry me when we grow up!"—and the careless laughter that followed, as if it was nothing more than a game.

But it hadn’t been a game. Not for you.

And in the years that followed, when you had loved him in silence, when you had watched him treat others with the same kindness he gave you, when you had finally learned that you were never special to him—

You had given up.

You weren’t that foolish girl anymore.

The shop bell chimed.

Phainon.

But this time, he wasn’t in armor. No weapons, no duties. Just simple, well-made clothing that suited him far too well—his presence somehow heavier despite his unassuming attire.

And in his hands—

A small, wrapped gift.

“For you.”

You hesitated before reaching out, carefully undoing the ribbon.

A hairpin. Carved in the shape of a flower that once bloomed in your village, back when you were children.

“…Why?”

Phainon inhaled slowly, as if steadying himself.

“I’ve been a fool. I didn’t see it back then.” He said “How much you meant to me. How much I took for granted.”

No, he wasn’t doing this.

Not now. Not after all these years.

“I thought of you often, even when I was away” he admitted. “But I only understood it after returning. When I saw you again, when you treated me as if I was just another face in the crowd.”

Your fingers curled around the hairpin.

“Because that’s what you are now” you whispered, barely able to find your voice.

“It’s not what I want to be.”

“I don’t want to be ‘just another knight’ to you.” His gaze locked onto yours, “I want—” He exhaled, softer this time. “I want you.”

And yet, all you could do was stare at him—at this man who was once your world, at this man who had only now realized his own feelings, at this man who had already taken too much from you.

You had already suffered once. Already let yourself burn for him.

You wouldn’t do it again.

Carefully, you placed the hairpin back into the box and closed the lid.

“…Thank you for the gift, Sir Phainon.” Your voice was steady, polite. “But I have no use for it.”

“Y/N—”

“I gave up on you long ago.” The words cut through the air, “And I have no intention of reliving that pain.”

“Goodbye, Phainon.”

And with that, you turned away.

You didn’t look back.

But as you walked away, you couldn’t hear the sound of him leaving.

Because this time—

This time, he wasn’t willing to let you go.

His heartbeat thundered.

He had always been admired, always been wanted. There was not a single noblewoman who wouldn’t welcome his favor, not a single courtier who wouldn’t seek his company.

But you?

You, who had once loved him so openly, had turned him away.

And it hurt.

More than it should have. More than anything ever had.

Phainon’s grip tightened around the small box still in his hands.

No.

This wasn’t over.

Not yet.

Not when the only person who had ever been truly kind to him was slipping through his fingers.

----

No matter what you said, no matter how much distance you tried to place between you—

Phainon kept coming back.

Whenever he had a break from duty, he would stop by the shop under the pretense of ordering something, checking on an old commission, or simply greeting you.

It didn’t matter if the sun was blazing or if the streets were slick with rain—Phainon would still appear, standing just outside, waiting for the smallest chance to speak to you.

And you?

You refused to give him anything.

And yet, it never stopped him.

Until one day—

You closed your shop.

It was the first time in weeks that Phainon hadn’t seen you.

He had arrived as usual, fully expecting you to be there, only to find the doors locked. A simple note hung at the entrance, inked in your delicate handwriting:

"Closed for the week. No appointments will be taken."

The words should have meant nothing.

And yet—

Something in his chest twisted.

Because you weren’t someone who closed your shop without reason. You weren’t someone who let anything—anyone—get in the way of your work.

“You didn’t hear? She’s fallen ill” one of the merchants gossiped. “Not too severe, but bad enough to keep her indoors.”

You were ill.

And no one had told him.

By the time he arrived at your house, you were already recovering.

You were still pale, still weaker than usual, but you were up, moving about, focused on tidying the mess that had gathered during your bedridden days.

When the knock came, you hesitated.

Then, with a tired sigh, you opened the door.

And there he was.

Phainon, standing on your doorstep.

“You shouldn’t be here.”

“I heard you were unwell.”

“I’m fine now.”

“I’ll stay”

“…What?”

“I’ll stay here” Phainon repeated, stepping forward slightly. “Until you’re fully recovered.”

You had spent weeks pushing him away.

And still, still, he refused to listen.

“Phainon.” You swallowed back the frustration. “Go home. You have better things to do than waste time here.”

“I don’t consider this a waste.”

You inhaled sharply, pressing your fingers against your temples. “Stop this. You’re—” A sigh. “You’re an important figure now. You have responsibilities.”

“…You really think that?”

You exhaled, suddenly too tired to argue. “I think you should leave.”

And with that, you turned away, stepping back inside.

You closed the door.

You locked it.

After that day, something changed.

Phainon stopped coming to your shop. Stopped appearing in front of you. Stopped waiting by the doors, stopped lingering in the streets.

And for a while, you thought you had finally won.

---

The streets were quiet.

You stood at the entrance of your shop, the weight of exhaustion pressing on your shoulders as you locked the door for the night.

The metal clicked into place.

A shadow moved.

Your fingers froze over the lock. What was that? A ghost?

Slowly, cautiously, you turned.

And there he was.

Standing at the edge of the dimly lit street, half-shrouded in darkness, his blue eyes watching you.

You had known Phainon for years. You had grown up with him, watched him rise from a mere village boy to a knight of the palace. You had seen him change—seen him become colder, more refined, more distant.

But this was unnerving.

Still, you swallowed down the discomfort, "Phainon…?"

"You've been ignoring me. Did you meet someone else?"

"What?"

"Is that why? You found someone else, didn’t you?"

You frowned, unease curling at the base of your spine. "That’s ridiculous. I just have my own life, Phainon. You should focus on yours."

Then, with an exhale that sounded almost amused—

"You don’t understand how exhausting things are in the palace."

He took another step forward.

You instinctively took one back.

"Everything is fake" he continued, "Every smile. Every kind word. They all lie. They all pretend to care. But you—"

"You were always real."

Your fingers twitched, itching to reach for the key still in the lock.

"But now you avoid me," he murmured. "Now you won’t even look at me."

"Phainon—"

He cut you off.

"If I got you pregnant," he said suddenly, "no one would bat an eye."

Your mind barely had time to process the words—what he had just said—before your body reacted on instinct.

You slapped him.

Phainon’s head snapped slightly to the side, his cheek flushed red from the strike, his lips slightly parted from shock.

But that moment of surprise didn’t last.

Slowly—so, so slowly—he turned his head back to you.

The last remnants of the boy you once knew were gone.

There was only him.

Only the man who had finally decided to take what was his.

You moved to run.

His hand grabbed your wrist and yanked you forward, crashing into his chest.

"That," he murmured, "was a mistake."

By the time the townspeople saw the smoke, it was already too late.

The shop was engulfed in flames. The fire devoured the wooden walls, the carefully crafted gowns and fabrics, reducing everything to ash.

And inside—

A body. Unrecognizable. Burnt beyond recognition.

A robbery gone wrong, they said.

A tragic death.

You were gone.

Far beyond the burning remains of your old life, in a place far from the city’s reach, a single candle flickered inside a dimly lit room.

The scent of smoke still clung to Phainon’s clothes as he sat beside the bed—the bed where you lay, unconscious.

Your wrists were bound. Just enough to make sure you wouldn’t do anything stupid when you woke.

He exhaled softly, reaching out, fingers brushing against your cheek.

Even now—even now, you were still his.

Now, you had nowhere to run.

The ropes around your wrists chafed against your skin, but the pain barely registered over the sheer rage bubbling in your chest.

The moment you had woken up—realized what he had done—you fought.

You screamed. You kicked. You thrashed so violently that Phainon had to pin you down.

"Let me go!" you spat, your voice hoarse from screaming.

Phainon only sighed, looking down at you with something almost close to pity.

"You’re being difficult."

"Do you think I’ll just sit here and accept this?" Your breath was ragged, fury shaking through your limbs. "I will never be yours."

"You always say that" he murmured, "But you’ve never really tried being mine, have you?"

"I have time" he whispered.

And that terrified you more than anything.

Because he truly believed you would break.

Your wrists throbbed where the restraints had dug into your skin. Your breath came ragged, chest rising and falling in uneven gasps.

Phainon knelt before you, "You’re exhausting yourself"

You flinched. He hesitated. But only for a second before he tucked a stray strand of hair behind your ear.

"You always did push yourself too hard"

You gritted your teeth. "Don't act like you know me."

That made him laugh—quiet, humorless.

"I do know you." His eyes burned as he held your gaze. "Better than anyone. Better than all those nobles who use your talent, who smile and bow and then forget you the moment they leave."

"I remember you, even when no one else did." His fingers brushed against your knuckles, "I never stopped thinking about you. Even when you left me behind. Even when you convinced yourself you didn’t care anymore."

You yanked your hands away.

"You don’t get to say that"

"Why?" he challenged. "Because it’s the truth?"

"Because you’re insane."

"Maybe I am. But does it matter?"

"You’ve already lost everything, haven’t you?" he continued, voice deceptively soft. "They think you’re dead. Your shop, your name, your life—it’s all gone. No one’s coming for you. No one even remembers you exist."

Phainon cupped your face then, forcing you to look at him.

"But I do," he whispered. "I always will. I would burn the world if it meant keeping you by my side."

For the first time, you truly understood.

There was no line he wouldn’t cross.

No limit to how far he would go to make sure you never left him again.

Phainon leaned in, forehead pressing against yours.

"Stop fighting," he whispered. "Just let go. You’ll be happier if you do."

"…I don’t know how to let go"

"You don’t have to know" he murmured. "Just trust me."

You nodded.

And that was it.

That was all he needed to believe he had finally won.

Days passed.

Phainon gave you more freedom—not complete, but enough. Enough for you to move without chains. Enough for you to pretend.

You let him think you were adjusting, that his patience had worn you down. You let him dress you in fine silks, let him touch you, let him believe that you were his.

Because the closer he let you get to the edge of the cage—

The easier it would be to escape.

The day of the wedding arrived in whispers and candlelight.

The halls of the estate were decorated in muted elegance—nothing extravagant, nothing too public. He didn’t need an audience.

This wasn’t about power.

This was about you.

And Phainon already had what he wanted.

Or so he thought.

You stood before the mirror in your gown, hands trembling—not with nerves, but with anticipation.

Outside, the horses were ready.

Inside, the door was left unlocked—a careless mistake born from his growing trust.

You took a breath.

One step.

Another.

The halls were silent as you slipped through the shadows, heart pounding with every second.

The exit was so close.

"Going somewhere?"

The voice froze you in place.

You turned—and Phainon stood at the end of the hall.

His wedding attire was pristine, but the grip he had on the hilt of his sword? Tight.

Your mouth went dry.

"Phainon.."

"Was it all a lie?"

You clenched your fists.

And then—

You ran.

Bolted down the hall, legs burning, lungs aching—but Phainon was faster.

You twisted, struggling, but he slammed you back against the stone wall, his body caging you in.

"You almost had me," he murmured, "Almost."

"Let me go."

"You were going to leave me," he said, "Again."

"Then ...I'll just have to make sure you never try again."

The room was suffocatingly quiet.

The iron shackle around your ankle was too tight, cold against your skin.

Phainon stood at the door, silent, watching.

Then—

He left.

For a moment, you almost believed that was it. That he had locked you away, that this was the extent of your punishment.

Then he came back.

With a knife.

Your body tensed when he knelt beside you, when his calloused fingers traced along your wrist too gently before pinning it against the bedpost.

You sucked in a sharp breath as he pressed the knife flat against your palm—just resting there.

"You tried to leave me."

He tilted his head, as if waiting. Daring you to lie to him.

"Say it."

"I—" You swallowed hard. "I tried to leave."

The blade pressed harder. Not enough to break skin. Just enough to make you feel the cold bite of the metal.

"Did it feel good?" he murmured. "Running away? Thinking you could escape me?"

"Phainon, please—"

A sharp swipe.

You flinched, expecting pain—but he didn’t cut you.

The blade had only sliced through the sleeve of your gown, the fabric slipping down your arm in ribbons.

"You’re scared" he observed.

You clenched your fists, refusing to give him an answer.

"Good."

Then, just as suddenly, he pulled away.

He set the knife down.

The bed dipped as he leaned in one last time, lips brushing against your ear.

"Next time," he murmured, "I won’t be so merciful."

Then he left, locking the door behind him.

Leaving you with the shackle around your ankle, the torn fabric on your arm—

And the overwhelming realization that you were truly trapped.

[tsumuus]

when he sees me

katsuki bakugou x reader, blind date, first date, fluff, ooc?, based on this drabble, probably my longest written fic(around 2300-2400 words, but like thats a lot for me😭)

main masterlist | bnha masterlist

You’ve never considered yourself the romantic type.

Not for lack of curiosity, but because the idea of romance felt like standing on the edge of a cliff. Sure, the view was breathtaking, but one wrong move and you’d plummet into the unknown. Relationships demanded too much- a risk of losing control, of exposing parts of yourself no one else had seen, only to have it thrown back in your face.

That’s why, despite Mina’s relentless campaigning to set you up with her “perfect guy,” you resisted.

“C’mon, he’s not like other guys,” she insisted one afternoon, her golden eyes sparkling with determination.

You sighed, stirring your coffee absentmindedly. “Mina, you’ve said that about all of your friends. And let’s not forget how the last one ended up being obsessed with his ex.”

Mina laughed. “Okay, fair, but this guy is different. He’s… grounded. Straightforward. No games, no fluff. I think you’d actually like him.”

“You’ve said that before too,” you teased.

Her pout was almost convincing. Almost. “Just trust me. One date. If it’s horrible, I’ll never bring it up again. Deal?”

You hesitated, weighing the risk of one awkward evening against weeks of Mina’s pestering. Reluctantly, you gave in. “Fine. One date.”

The restaurant was warm and inviting, its soft lighting casting a cozy glow over the wooden tables and shelves lined with potted plants. Mina had texted you the details earlier: 7 PM, party for two, under your name. She’d been oddly tight-lipped about who your date was, insisting she wanted it to be a surprise.

You were still skeptical, but a small part of you was curious. Maybe Mina was right this time. Maybe.

You arrived a few minutes early, hoping to gather your thoughts before meeting your mystery date. The host greeted you with a polite smile and led you to a small table near the window.

“Your party hasn’t arrived yet,” they said, pulling out your chair.

“Thank you,” you replied, sitting down and scanning the menu.

Minutes ticked by. You started to wonder if you’d been stood up when the door opened, and a blond man walked in, his sharp crimson eyes scanning the room.

You froze.

Even from across the restaurant, you recognized him. Katsuki Bakugou, pro hero and household name, exuded an aura that was impossible to ignore. He wasn’t wearing his hero costume, but the fitted black sweater and dark jeans were somehow just as striking.

Your heart sank. There’s no way he’s here for me.

But then his gaze landed on you, and he started walking over.

“You’re the blind date?” he asked, stopping in front of your table.

You blinked up at him, stunned. “You’re…”

“Katsuki,” he said, pulling out the chair across from you and sitting down. “Guess we’re both surprised.”

It took you a moment to recover. Of all the people Mina could have set you up with, this was the guy she’d chosen? Pro hero, explosive temper, and notorious for being brutally honest? It didn’t make sense.

“Uh, yeah,” you finally managed. “Nice to meet you.”

He gave a small nod, studying you with an intensity that made you shift in your seat.

The first few minutes were… awkward. He wasn’t exactly a conversationalist, and you weren’t sure how to navigate the situation. But as the evening went on, you began to notice things you hadn’t expected.

For one, he wasn’t as intimidating as you’d imagined. Sure, his words were blunt, but there was a surprising warmth behind them. He listened when you spoke, his attention unwavering. And when he talked about his work, there was a passion in his voice that made it impossible not to be drawn in.

“So, you’re friends with Mina?” he asked at one point, breaking the silence that had settled between you.

“Yeah. We’ve been friends since middle school,” you said. “She’s been trying to set me up for years. Guess she finally got her way.”

He snorted. “Sounds like her.”

You smiled, relaxing slightly. “What about you? How did she convince you to do this?”

“Didn’t take much,” he admitted. “She said you weren’t annoying, so I figured it was worth a shot.”

Your eyebrows shot up. “High praise.”

“It is,” he said, smirking.

Despite yourself, you laughed. The more you talked, the more you realized that he wasn’t what you’d expected. Beneath the sharp edges and fiery reputation was someone who was honest, genuine, and… kind. In his own way.

When the night ended, he walked you to your car. The cool evening air was a welcome contrast to the warmth of the restaurant, and you found yourself wishing the night could last just a little longer.

“Thanks for tonight,” he said, his hands shoved into his pockets. “Didn’t think I’d like this whole blind date thing, but… you’re not bad.”

A small laugh escaped you. “You’re not bad yourself.”

His lips quirked in the faintest of smirks. “See ya around?”

For a moment, you hesitated, the weight of your fears pressing down on you. But then you met his gaze- steady, genuine- and you felt something shift.

“Yeah,” you said softly. “See you around.”

That night, as you lay in bed replaying the evening in your mind, you realized something strange: you weren’t overthinking it. You weren’t second-guessing every word or analyzing every gesture. Instead, you felt… calm.

For the first time, the idea of letting someone in didn’t feel like a leap off a cliff.

It felt like the beginning of something you didn’t want to lose.

You didn’t expect him to call.

Even though the night had gone surprisingly well, you told yourself not to get your hopes up. He was a pro hero, after all- someone whose life moved at a pace so fast it felt impossible to keep up. People like him didn’t have time for something as fragile and delicate as a budding relationship.

Still, the memory of his smirk lingered, sharp and vivid in your mind. The way his crimson eyes had softened ever so slightly when he teased you- so subtle you wondered if you’d imagined it- made it impossible not to replay the evening over and over.

Three days passed. You told yourself to move on, to not dwell on what was probably just a casual dinner for him. That is, until your phone buzzed with a text.

Katsuki: Hey. You free for dinner this week?

The message was so short, so him, that it took you a moment to process it. Your heart stuttered, and you stared at the screen for what felt like an eternity. Was this real? A small, incredulous laugh bubbled out of you. You couldn’t deny the warmth spreading through your chest.

Your fingers hovered over the keyboard. Should you reply right away? Wait a few minutes? Was it too eager to answer so quickly?

Finally, with a shaky breath, you typed back:

You: Yeah, I think I could be convinced. When were you thinking?

The pause before his next reply felt like forever, but when it came, it was so straightforward you had to smile.

Katsuki: Friday. 7. Same place.

Simple. Confident. And as you stared at the message, you couldn’t help but feel a flicker of hope.

The first couple of dinners were... awkward, to say the least.

It wasn’t that Katsuki made you uncomfortable- far from it. But there was something about the way he carried himself, the unwavering intensity in his gaze, that made you hyperaware of every word you spoke. He wasn’t a conversationalist, either. The silences between you felt heavier than they needed to, filled with the unspoken tension of two people trying to figure each other out.

He wasn’t oblivious to it. One evening, while you sat across from him in a cozy, dimly lit restaurant, your fork hovering over your plate, he tilted his head and raised a brow.

“You gonna stop acting like you’re walkin’ on eggshells around me, or do I need to pry it out of you?” he asked bluntly, his tone laced with teasing, though his crimson eyes locked onto yours with an intensity that made your pulse quicken.

Your fork clinked softly against the plate as you set it down, caught off guard. “I’m not walking on eggshells,” you retorted, though the heat creeping up your neck betrayed you.

His lips quirked in a knowing smirk. “Yeah, you are.” He leaned back in his chair, taking a sip of his drink, never breaking eye contact. “Just say whatever’s on your mind. I’m not gonna bite.”

There was something disarming about the way he said it- gruff but sincere. His words loosened something inside you, and before you realized it, you were laughing, the tension in your shoulders melting away. “You really don’t hold back, do you?”

“Don’t see the point,” he said with a shrug, as if it were the simplest thing in the world. “It’s more fun when people are just themselves. So, quit overthinkin’ and just talk to me.”

It was easier said than done, but something about the way he said it- direct, no room for doubt- made you want to try. And so you did. Hesitantly at first, testing the waters with little anecdotes and random thoughts. But as the night went on, the words flowed more freely. You told him about your day, about things that annoyed you, things that made you laugh. And Katsuki listened.

Really listened.

He didn’t interrupt or interject with meaningless comments. He just let you talk, his eyes steady on yours, nodding here and there or throwing in a dry remark that made you laugh despite yourself. By the time the check came, the air between you felt lighter, less strained.

When he walked you to your door that night, hands shoved into his pockets and that familiar scowl softening just a fraction, you realized you were looking forward to the next time you’d see him.

Things between you shifted after that. Slowly, in small, subtle ways. Dinners turned into late-night conversations that carried over into texts throughout the week. Katsuki wasn’t the type to blow up your phone with messages, but when he did text, it was always something meaningful- or hilarious, though he’d never admit he was funny on purpose.

One night, he called out of the blue.

“Look outside,” he said gruffly, not even bothering with a greeting.

Confused, you walked to the window. Sure enough, there he was, standing on the sidewalk with a bag slung over one shoulder, his free hand holding up his phone.

“What are you doing here?” you asked, laughing as you opened the door and stepped outside to meet him.

“Thought you could use a break,” he said, holding up the bag. “Brought food. Don’t argue, just eat.”

It was simple, thoughtful gestures like that- the way he remembered little things you said, like your favorite snack or how you liked your coffee- that caught you off guard. He wasn’t trying to impress you; he was just... himself. Honest, genuine, and surprisingly caring in ways he’d never admit aloud.

The night it all came to a head was unplanned, much like the way your relationship had unfolded. You’d been feeling restless all day, the kind of itch beneath your skin that no amount of pacing or distractions could soothe. Katsuki must have noticed when he stopped by after work, because instead of sitting down like usual, he grabbed your hand.

“C’mon,” he said simply, tugging you toward the door.

“Where are we going?” you asked, though you didn’t resist, letting him lead you out into the cool night air.

“You’ll see.”

He didn’t elaborate, and you didn’t push, curious despite yourself. He walked with purpose, his hand warm and solid around yours, guiding you through streets you didn’t recognize until you reached a quiet rooftop overlooking the city. The view was breathtaking- glittering lights stretching out as far as the eye could see, the hum of distant traffic a soothing backdrop.

“Wow,” you breathed, stepping closer to the edge to take it all in.

Katsuki leaned against the railing, watching you instead of the view. “Thought you might like it,” he said after a moment, his voice softer than usual.

You glanced back at him, your chest tightening at the way he looked at you. “I do. It’s beautiful.”

He stayed quiet for a beat, his gaze dropping to the ground before meeting yours again. “You’ve been outta it lately,” he said, his tone careful. “Figured you needed to get outta your head for a bit.”

The words hit harder than you expected. You swallowed the lump in your throat, the weight of his attention- his care- making it hard to speak. “Thank you,” you said finally, your voice barely above a whisper.

“Don’t mention it,” he muttered, though the faint blush creeping up his neck betrayed him.

The silence stretched, comfortable now, as you both watched the city lights. But something was shifting between you, unspoken but undeniable. You felt it in the way he stood closer than before, his shoulder brushing against yours. In the way his crimson eyes softened when they met yours.

“Katsuki,” you began, your voice trembling slightly, “why do you... do all this? For me, I mean.”

He stiffened slightly but didn’t look away. “Why wouldn’t I?” he said, his tone defensive, like the answer was obvious. “You’re important to me.”

The confession hung in the air, raw and vulnerable. Your breath caught, and before you could stop yourself, you reached for his hand, threading your fingers through his. He stared at your joined hands, his expression unreadable, before squeezing back.

“You’re important to me too,” you said softly, the words carrying more weight than you expected.

And in that quiet moment, surrounded by the glow of the city, something between you clicked. There were no fireworks, no dramatic declarations, but as Katsuki leaned in, his forehead brushing gently against yours, you realized you didn’t need them. This- his warmth, his presence- was more than enough.

[uncookedfeeler]

Citrus II🍋

Yuna x Reader

Tags : 7k, smut, incest, daddy kink,

Part 1

Five past eight in the morning, you arrive in front of your company, after having crossed a few blocks in the capital, at the automatic barrier, you wave to the guards to say hello and make your way to the underground car park, of course you have reserved your own space, not far from the lift, the privilege of having an important place in the company, you say to yourself; once the car has stopped, your bag in hand, you walk at a brisk pace to the lift and press the button for your floor.

Your impatience and shame are growing, you're late, which is far from your usual routine, especially when your president is probably waiting for you in your office. The reason for your lateness is even more shameful, but you're determined to put these thoughts aside during the working day.

Once you are on your floor, you pass through a second glass door, which you open with your badge. In the corner is the office of your secretary, who stands up to greet you and to warn you that the CEO is already in your office, just as you had expected.

"Hello Mrs Kang, and thank you, how long has he been here?"

"Not long, he arrived 5 minutes ago, he seems to be smiling, I think you'll be fine," she replies with a nervous smile, "would you like me to make some coffees and bring them to you?"

"No need, I'll do it myself, otherwise nothing else for the rest of the day? "

"There's a lot of paperwork to do today after the president leaves, your meetings don't start until this afternoon". You give her a thumbs up before putting your hands on the latch of your door. 

Your office was a modern space filled with clean lines and muted tones. A large executive desk dominated the room; behind it, tall windows filtered soft daylight through half-drawn blinds, while recessed lights softly illuminated the dark wood cabinets lining the back wall. In the corner, a pair of white armchairs and a sofa were accented by a single red cushion.

Across from you is your chairman, a middle-aged man with short grey hair and a warm smile. His face has visible wrinkles, particularly around the eyes, suggesting a friendly mood. He is wearing a formal dark suit and tie.

“I'm sorry to have kept you waiting, Mr Ahn,” you say, bowing 90° to him.

"Ha ha, hello director, there's no need to be so formal, just get up and sit down,”he says, pointing with both hands to the seat in front of him. 

“Thank you, would you like a coffee while I'm up?”

“A short one then, my wife says I drink too much.”

You walk over to your desk and behind your chair is a piece of furniture that runs the full height of the wall, on top of which are various decorations, including your personal coffee machine.

“They all say that, but a good machine needs its fuel to work properly, doesn't it?”

“Absolutely.”

A few minutes pass as you place your respective coffees on the table between you, warning him that they are still very hot.

“I heard about the new contracts with JYP, good work Director Shin, I imagine it must have taken a lot of negotiation, they're notoriously difficult to do business with.”

“You could say that, it's not the first time they've worked with a cosmetics company like us, and it seems that their previous partnerships haven't been very successful, but with the work of the whole team, I think we've convinced them to count on us.”

“We still don't know the names of the models who will be wearing our products? if they match our latest collections well, I think it would be a great boost to our sales.”

“No information on that, the TWICE girls would be perfect, they embody the mid-twenties woman and seem to have finally lost their all-cute and pink ribbon image.”

As you finish your sentence, you see the chairman smiling after taking a sip of his coffee.

"Really good coffee, and why not ITZY, I'm sure they could certainly manage it too", the President smiles obviously as he mentions the group to which your daughter belongs.

"Yes, I'm sure", you reply with a touch of humour, the President knows very well who your daughter is and the joke shows how close you are to him.

"By the way, how is your daughter, she's appearing all over the country, she really seems to be riding on her popularity, you must be very proud of her".

"Sure, I try to keep up with her, although it's not as easy as it sounds, I imagine she'd be surprised to model for our company, I doubt she knows where I work or my position," you say with regret in your voice.

"Raising a daughter is not easy, I'll give you that, my older daughter... "Before he can finish, your phone rings to tell you that you've received a message with an attachment.

"When we were talking about the wolf, she sent me a message, sorry, go on, sir," you say, trying to get the conversation going again.

"Take your time, it's important to maintain a relationship with your children, especially when they've left home," he replies, leaning back on the sofa to take a step back.

After unlocking your phone, you click on the notification to open Yuna's message, which contains a link to a video and the message "how to grow my lemons", the link takes you to the streaming site Yuna uses and a replay starts :

"I've talked about this before, but the other day I took two lemons home to my parents that I've been growing for a long time, I'm not very good at it, so I asked my dad for help, he worked hard on them yesterday, you should have seen him, he played with them first and then he watered them generously, I think he's learning as much as I am, so I looked up on the internet how to grow them properly:

- First you need to stir the soil well with your fingers or a tool, then you need to push the seeds in deeply until they reach the end, then you need to water the soil regularly with love to increase the chances of getting a big lemon.

My two lemons have already grown well, so I'm wondering if I shouldn't put in a new seed to make a third, much bigger than the others," she said as she finished her explanation, stroking her stomach several times each time the word seed was mentioned.

Your promise to keep your impure thoughts out of your workplace, but Yuna's provocation, so innocent at first, is dangerously immoral and exciting in the right context.

"Your daughter seems to have found a passion for gardening, which is rare for young people who have only known the capital and its huge buildings," the President replies in an amused tone. 

"However, I wonder if young women have an attraction for fruity things, it brings a sweet and innocent side while retaining the exotic taste of a sweet and strong flavour, should we explore this avenue for our products?" he asked, he's the President after all, so business comes first for him. 

"It's hard to say, I know she had a shoot with different fruits as a concept, she doesn't quite fit the image of a young teenager, but an entry-level range for young girls with products that are easy to apply and discreet or even fragrant could be a target".

Another message appears on your screen with only the text ‘Now you know how to do it 💦🍋’.

The shock is quite brutal, you would never have imagined that your daughter would be so direct with you on this subject, after all you only really resumed your father-daughter relationship yesterday, the difference in personality between the nice, almost innocent girl you had yesterday and this morning and now, where she doesn't hesitate to tease you in public or by text message, a part of you hopes that she is just doing it for fun and not to satisfy you for fear of being abandoned again.

At no point do you want to force her down a path that won't make her happy, you've already thrown away your morals for her, now her happiness is your only concern, her wishes are your orders and pleasing your princess remains your goal in life.

You thank her for the guide and send her a sticker of a cat blowing kisses, followed by an 'I love you'. You put your phone back in your pocket to resume your conversation with your CEO as the clock ticks.

.

"I think we're done, I've really enjoyed this chat, I knew I could count on you to come up with new ideas, would you like to join the monthly review of their project, let's bring them the seed of your future fruity project," as the President stands up and walks towards the door.

"Sure, I'm following you"

.

.

.

The meeting has seemed endless, the chair and the others have taken it in turns to stimulate the discussion with their ideas, and what was supposed to be a simple project review has turned into a kick-off meeting for your project. It's past lunchtime and you've just returned to your office, completely drained of energy and with an appetite that's starting to grow. However, your position in the company means that with a simple phone call you can have a member of the kitchen staff come to your floor with your food.

"Knock, knock" 

"You can come in"

"Morning, Director Shin, here's your lunch," says an athletic-looking young man as he places it on your desk.

"Sorry for the inconvenience, I've had a busy morning and my legs need a rest," you say in a moment of weakness.

"No, no, no problem, sir, I'll come back for the tray later, enjoy your meal". The young man leaves your office in a hurry.

As you pounced on your meal like a hungry hyena, this break being one of the rare moments when you let your invasive curiosity take over, you grabbed the mouse of your computer to open the search browser and typed in the name of your company as well as your first name, you had this strong feeling that you knew what was being said about you or your company, public opinion is important and you were also worried about letting your bad reputation tarnish that of your daughter in case of problems at work.

And although you didn't show her much, it was also your ritual to follow your daughter's career. All these years you have been following her journey as an adult in the industry, and it fills you with pride that today your daughter's name still appears at the top of the search rankings.

Her latest Instagram post seems to have set the internet on fire, as you click on the top trending link to see a series of photos of her in the bathroom of your house, her hair flaming red, her make-up perfectly applied to her face and her brown eyes piercing through the mirror. She's wearing a lovely black and white tank top and I'm sure you'll agree that she looks absolutely fucking gorgeous in these photos, the comments are flooding in with praise for her look, despite the occasional haters, but nothing new.

You quickly take out your phone to leave a message for your princess: 

"I've just seen your photos, you're as beautiful as ever," while attaching a photo of the article you took with your phone. Once you've sent the message, you go back to your meal and your thoughts take over, you realise that this kind of little intention would have started from the beginning of her career, the simple fact of exchanging with your child and the feeling that comes from it soothes your heart and too bad if you become a clingy dad, you're going to tell her every day.

You're suddenly brought back to reality when your phone displays a notification saying that she's replied to you with a simple :

"Hihi thank you 😛, look at my little present", while a second message appears with a still blurred image, followed by a third in the conversation, Yuna had sent it as sensitive content, so you have to click on it to view it, and you're far from imagining what's revealed before your eyes: the last message served as a description with the words:  

"it was just after the shower when i was getting ready to go to the company, my little lemons have turned into cherries, all i need now is your big seed 🍒" the photo is taken from a higher angle where your daughter lifts her top to reveal her small breasts and the many hickey marks still present on her body, Her left breast and nipple are well marked by your mouth, not forgetting that she's not wearing anything, and you can see her little bush underneath, with a comment at the bottom: "To 🍼 my 🧔🏻, He must 🍼 my 😻 first".

At that moment, your cock springs to attention in a flash, it shoots up through your trousers and slams against your belly, any man knows that pain and it's far from pleasant, you loosen your belt to give your raging member a little slack, this little minx knew what to do to excite someone and the hours were going to be long from now on.

The rest of the day goes by slowly, you don't dare take out your phone for fear of getting into an embarrassing situation, you still feel some vibrations in the afternoon, but like a good professional you don't even look, the hours go by until the beginning of the evening, you leave your office and go to the underground car park, you make the effort to look at your phone and all you get are trivial messages, You're a little disappointed because you were secretly hoping for more messages from Yuna, halfway there you find yourself stuck in traffic on the road and you decide to call Yuna to find out how her day went, she answers almost immediately but doesn't answer your question, but you can hear the girls chatting as if she had picked up the phone and put it on a table.

You wonder what kind of phone she uses to get such good quality, the girls' voices are easily recognisable and the sound is as if you were in the room with them.

Yeji: "Ugh, yesterday's shoot was so chaotic! I swear we almost lost our minds trying to get the perfect angle".

Lia: "I know, right? I thought we were going to end up on a blooper reels. Remember when we all turned the wrong way during that one scene?

Ryujin: "Yeah, and Yuna was the only one who actually turned the right way! I guess she has an 'inner compass' or something..."

Yuna: "Hey! I just knew what to do! Plus you stole my concept, remember!"

Yeji: "I mean, you didn't mind talking about it online, you even mentioned your dad again, you're such a daddy girl after all"

Yuna: "Not you too! Can we please not talk about my 'daddy issues' again?"

Chaeryeong: "We can't help it! It's just so weird how you don't even look at all the sexy boys around us, I wonder what you do with all those pictures of him you snatch from the internet".

Lia: “'Even though we know what she's doing, she's acting cold towards him, but in the end it makes you hot, doesn't it? you should at least try dating someone, we've all done it so far and it's like, we're not asking you to sleep with them, just get some dating experience”

Chaeryeong: “Easy Lia-unnie, you're the one taking selfies with your exes' dicks in your mouth aren't you? they never fucked you anyway so keep your advice to yourself”

Chaeryeong:“Yuna, listen, we're not forcing you to do anything, but try to use your youth to meet people, it's weird to see you alone at home all the time.”

Yuna: “Unnie, that's not the problem, I'm just afraid of being rejected and I don't know how to tell him how I feel about him, we haven't been very close since mum left”.

Ryujin: “He's your dad Yuna, of course you love him in your own way, let's just say, just tell him and you'll be free of this burden, then we can go and pick up some hot guys backstage”.

Yeji: “I don't think she likes you getting fucked in the toilets when the newbies show up, same goes for you Chaeryoung, no one's putting any pressure on Yuna, right?”

Lia: “Easy for you to say when you're being fucked by your childhood sweetheart, we're not so lucky to have someone who loves us for something other than our bodies”.

Yuna: "It hurts, doesn't it? Aren't you afraid of getting pregnant?"

Ryujin: "'Are you kidding? Wait, you've never...? not even with the toys you hide in the box under your bed?"

Yuna: ”'OF COURSE NOT".

Yeji: "Stop laughing you bitches, Yuna this ain't that serious, yes it can hurt, you have to be prepared downstairs and remember we take all the pills the company gives us and don't forget we always use condoms, DON'T GIRLS?"

Ryujin: "Don't give us shit about it, they shove it up my arse anyway, you think I'm going to let those sons of bitches touch my pussy? a good load on the face, that's what it's all about'."

Lia: "Same thing, they can fill my arse but my pussy is off limits, I love to smash their cocks and make them scream in pain when they try to pull out'."

Chaeryeong: "Fucking listen to these bitches, apart from sucking cocks when I want to, I only fuck other girls, no risk on my side."

Yeji: "See, we're all careful, protect yourself well and don't forget your pills, they help with your periods too'."

Yuna: “I'm out of pills and I don't have a condom, but it's not like I need one, is it?!!, I'm going home tonight, don't wait for me”.

Ryujin: “Don't take it like that baby, I can give you some if you want”.

Yeji: “Yuna, come back!!! “.

You hear the loud thud of a door slamming and limbs flailing as Yuna leaves.

Yeji: “ 'Well done girls, that was clearly a good time to bring her down and make fun of her and her problems”

Lia: "Sorry unnie, we didn't think she'd take it like that, I'll go and get her'.”

Ryujin: “Stay here, you're making it worse.”

Lia: “Bloody hell, how can someone like that be so ignorant of her own sexuality, do you think she likes girls instead?”

Chaeryeong: “She's got a crush on her dad, are you stupid or what, we don't say anything to avoid the subject, she's just wanted to fuck her dad for a long time, she's got photos of him on her phone, on her wallpaper, a photo of him under her pillow, the poor thing is in desperate need of fatherly love”

Yeji: “ I don't know what happened last night, but since then she's been really nervous about it, let's leave her alone, otherwise she'll go crazy and we don't know what she'll do”.

Yeji: "We'll see about that later, it's almost time. Get ready and I'll go to her, you three go with the managers. We'll go back to the company, Chaery, get her bag and phone. She left it on the table."

Calm returned to the room and before you lost the connection to your daughter's phone, you heard

"Looks like you've got work to do Daddy Shin, sorry for the trouble" and she hangs up.

This is a lot to take in, and apart from the sexual debates between the 4 girls, which did not leave you without a reaction, the hardest thing is still Yuna's problems, which confirm your fears about her feelings, your daughter is not the provocative woman she pretends to be in the message, she is a young woman who still has a lot to learn about her own love and carnal feelings, knowing that your little girl is 'pure and innocent' would make any father smile, but on the other hand, what is the harm in learning about her sexuality? The trauma that has held her back, and for which you are probably responsible, is preventing her from moving forward in her life as a woman.

You'd been thinking all day about how to punish your daughter for her insolence, but the person you'd been talking to didn't exist. With Yuna's true feelings in mind, the next logical step seemed to be to wait for her at home and assume your role as father, as a princess deserves.

When you get home, you look at the clock and realise that she won't be home for another hour or two. That gives you plenty of time to tidy up, do your laundry and take a shower. You've picked up some bad habits living alone, but now that you're sharing your home with someone else, it's time to get the ball rolling again and restore the beauty of your property.

Time flies and you've barely had time to get out of the shower and into your new clothes when you hear the door latch click. You quickly step in front of it to see a redhead running towards you, dropping her bag in the doorway and giving you a big hug.

"Welcome home, darling," you say, stroking her head as you feel her face sink into your chest and a wet feeling hit your chest.

"I'm sorry daddy, I..."

"SHhh, it's all right, I'm here."

The situation is very different from yesterday, Yuna's shell seems to have burst the moment she saw you, you feel the warmth of her body against yours as her arms wrap around you, you say nothing, leaving one of your hands on her head and the other on her back.

"Dad, I... the message... it's not .... I wan...."

"Just breathe, I'm not angry, you know,"

"I just wanted to make you happy, I wanted to show you I'm a big girl, I'm so embarrassed now"

"You don't have to make me happy, it's my job to make YOU happy, and don't bother trying to act big, you're my little princess, that's all".

Just as she seems to have calmed down, you take her face in your hands to wipe away the last of her tears before placing a loving kiss on her forehead, "I love you," you say in a low voice as if to lull her to sleep, "I will never let you down, my only daughter.

Yuna is lulled by your words and you feel the weight of her body fall on your arms, "just rest on the sofa, I'll bring you a snack, you must be tired from your day's work", she accepts without flinching as you prepare something to eat while you wait for dinner, your daughter sits on the sofa, her head resting on a pillow, looking at you, when your eyes meet you exchange a smile without saying a word.

The evening passes smoothly, while your daughter rests and eats, you finally talk about your respective days, leaving your erotic exchanges out of the conversation, she finally gets to know your job, while you finally know what happens off camera, the night is felt and you suggest she take a shower while you prepare dinner, again she accepts without concern.

"Would you like to join me?" she asks shyly.

"Yuna, your legs are shaking, you don't have to push anything, I'm not going anywhere," you reply to her completely unexpected request.

She doesn't even answer and locks herself in the bathroom, slamming the door. You really can't understand what's going on in her head, but there's no time to lose, so you start preparing dinner.

Like last night, the meal is spent in church-like silence, each of us with our own thoughts. Yuna is completely withdrawn and doesn't even look at you, which is quite an awkward situation for you as she seems so close and then suddenly so far away.

You try to break this silence in the desert and ask her if she wants to watch a film, she takes a while to answer and then accepts, saying that she has to change first so that you can start getting everything ready while you wait for her, it's a good start and the film could give you a new topic of conversation to revive the dialogue between the two of you.

While she's still in her room, you call out to her to ask what film she's interested in. 

"Ruby Gillman, Teenage Kraken Please, Giselle-unnie told me it's good". 

You hear through the house, you recognise your daughter, who has always loved cartoons, once you've found them on Netflix, you adjust the brightness of the lights for a subdued effect, you've prepared a blanket and something to eat.

The minutes tick by and you wonder what Yuna is doing, you don't see much, it takes so long to get into pyjamas, but you tell yourself she's probably on her phone at the same time, which often doesn't help.

You hear her footsteps behind you and when she appears behind you, you see her wearing a simple pink t-shirt, you can easily guess that she's not wearing anything underneath as it hugs her breasts.

Suddenly she's straddling you, saying, "Forget the film, I want you, Daddy," as she pushes her body into yours and lies on top of you in a lotus position.

"Yuna, please, I," you don't finish your sentence as she slaps your face. 

"STOPPP REJECTING MEEEEEEEEEE' she screams at the top of her lungs as she bursts into tears over you, 'WHY ARE YOU DOING THIS, I....I....I JUST WANT YOU TO LOVE ME' WH... WHY ARE YOU HURTING ME LIKE THIS?

Your daughter lashes out at you in shock at what's happening in front of you, you grab her arms and she becomes helpless under the difference in strength between the two of you. 

"Yun..." 

"I just want you..." she says, her face completely ravaged by tears, the face of someone who is deeply hurt and can't take it anymore.

Something breaks inside you, all this time you've assumed she would throw herself at you, just to be like the others, just to receive the love you would have given her anyway, you've hurt her again and again until you made the same mistake you made with your wife.

Your daughter loves you more than anything and you are too blind to see that she doesn't know how else to show it, but this time you will make it right and give yourself to her.

Without further ado, you threw your lips over hers, releasing her wrists from your grip and sliding your hands from her lower abdomen to her breasts hidden under her t-shirt.

"No bra, you little rascal?"

Instinctively she puts her hands on your shoulders and fights your tongue with hers, you attack her nipples with your hand and they are already hard, the attack on her breasts causes Yuna to moan which is absorbed by your kiss, you go down her neck to place your marks while she can finally listen to her pleasure.

"Daddy, your cock, give it to me" she says as she plunges her hand into your shorts and meets your cock through the underpants, you lift her up with the strength of your legs and come to remove your underwear in one go, your cock is now naked between your daughter's thighs and she puts her hands on it.

"Put some saliva before baby," she listens to you religiously, but instead comes and gets the saliva overflowing from her pussy and applies it to your cock.

"Let me use my juices before you use yours," she says as she works your cock up and down, your shaft growing under Yuna's movements and the pleasure is truly enjoyable.

One of your hands digs into her soaking wet panties and you massage her slit with your fingers, your moaning cries joining in as you pleasure each other.

Quickly she gets up from the sofa to kneel in front of you and she begins to lick your cock with delicacy, her tongue starts at the glans and she places kisses on it, then her tongue and lips come together so that she tries to suck your sperm, her lips then go gently down the length of your cock and your cock goes slowly down her throat.

"Yuna, that's good, you're doing great," you say as you put both hands on her head to guide her, you watch as your cock disappears into her mouth as the sensations of her work send shivers down your back, from time to time she pulls out to spit on your shaft before sliding back in,

Yuna learns as she goes and her technique is perfected with each dive, after a while your breaking point comes and you refuse to finish here so you help her pull out and try to save your orgasm for later, her mouth overflowing with saliva and she looks at you with appetite.

"Sorry baby but it's my time to eat you now" you tell her as you take her in your arms and go into your bedroom where you lay her on her back on the edge of the bed, without further ado she attacks her pussy with your mouth and she presses her thighs against your head, Your tongue immediately attacks her slit, which rushes to secrete its juices, which you suck up as you go, her clit is quickly attacked by one of your hands, which takes great care to titillate the little bean, with delicacy you move up and down her slit, from time to time penetrating her entrance with your tongue to prepare the work,

The poor red girl cries out with pleasure as she experiences being devoured by her lover for the first time, she clings to your hair which she pulls when the pleasure is too great, on your side you shift into second gear and penetrate your daughter's pussy with two fingers, you feel like you're piercing a flan because the inside is so soft.

“Daddy don't stop, it's coming” your daughter cries out as she feels your third finger deep inside her, your mouth has turned into a wet wiping system as her pussy floods your mouth, you keep up the rhythm until you feel your daughter leave and in a flash her body goes rigid and her pelvis convulses under the power of the orgasm.

You lift your head and climb onto the bed to kiss your princess with a little “I love you” in her ears, 

"Daddy, I want you,” she says, stretching out her arms to ask you to come inside her, “it's time to put that seed inside me,” as she spreads her pussy in front of you.

Worried, you reach over to your bedside table for a condom, but Yuna stops you.

“It's ok daddy, I'm on the pill and it's a safe day, you can pour everything into my secret garden", Yuna's naughty language excites you immensely and your cock hurts so you give in and come to lie on her entrance and gently tap your cock to soak it in her juices, 

You sink gently and anxiously into your own daughter, resting your elbows on the mattress so that you can kiss her as you move inside her, every inch of her is painful and she lets you feel it as she scratches your back with her fingernails, you kiss her tenderly as your hips move up to touch her pussy, 

Your cock feels the tightness of her vagina as well as the warmth and moisture from your excellent preparation work, the passage through her pussy is made without too much effort and you slide deep inside her like butter, on the other side Yuna seems to take your big cock like a champion and despite the pain she has already wrapped her legs around your waist.

You feel her warm, rapid breathing on your face as you look into her eyes, just inches apart.

"Daddy, I can feel you inside me, my little pussy just ate your big dick."

"Are you alright baby, I won't move until you're ready".

"I want to sit like on the sofa".

You obeyed her orders and gently lifted her up without pulling back to let her sit on you, you put yourself on her buttocks and she was now resting all her weight on you, the change of position made your cock dig even deeper inside her and she felt it well. 

"Don't move, I want to stay connected to you like this," as she strokes her stomach trying to feel your cock, "keep eating my tits, please.

Just as your cock seems to have bottomed out, you turn your attention to her pair of little red lemons, You really loved her tits, they are not as big as some but in your eyes they are perfect, the texture of them, the feel of them in your hands and the way Yuna reacts every time you nibble on her nipples.

You decide to kiss your daughter and whisper "Shall we?" to which she only nods, you begin to rock your hips as your cock slowly emerges from her pussy and then slowly returns, never fully exiting, you carve your daughter's walls with your cock and Yuna moans with pleasure at the work of your rod.

“♥Hmm....♥Ah....♥Hmm, ah....♥ Daddy, your cock is turning me inside out, every time you push in it feels weird down there, it's a bit painful but also extremely pleasurable, I can feel your big cock pushing my sides apart and knocking on my garden gate, keep it up, I want to feel your cock ravaging me".

You pick up the pace at your partner's request, your cock seems to have done its job well as you are able to withdraw completely before impaling her again with no problem, under the force of your hips Yuna lays her head on your neck and sucks you like a baby, you let go of her breasts to lock your hold on her by circling her waist with your arms, once firmly in place you pound her with all your strength. 

“♥Ah....”

“♥Ah.... DADDY”

“♥Ah....

♥Ah.... DA”

For long minutes, you hold her close as your cock slams violently into her pussy. The pleasure comes from the fact that Yuna has her head back, unable to form a sentence. Pleasure has taken over her body. You feel your orgasm building slowly. While your daughter is already on the verge of hers, you feel her legs squeeze you hard as she explodes on your cock and her fluids flow down it. Yet you don't stop your thrusts.

"Daddy! Daddy! Daddy! Stop it"' At her command you stop and discover your daughter's face completely undressed, her hair sticking to her sweaty face and you push aside the lips that hide her eyes to kiss her.

"Let me do it now" she asks as she moves her hips on her own to embrace your sensitive cock, her movements are fast, her pussy devouring you at its own pace and you put your hands on both her buttocks to support her, you give little slaps to her delicate skin and as she fucks herself on her father's cock you feel your orgasm coming and you warn her.

"Yuna, I'm coming"

She gives you the coup de grace when she puts all her weight on her descent and your stiff cock pierces all her pussy until your balls kiss her pussy, inside your cock floods her and for the first time in her life Yuna is at the door of motherhood, her pussy sucks your sperm with efficiency and you withdraw from her.

Yuna is still sitting on your lap, your breaths heavy, your bodies full of sweat and juice, and neither of you can stand the silence as Yuna's cum begins to flow.

"Ah baby, that was amazing. You were amazing!"

"Thanks daddy, do you want some more?"

"I'm sorry darling, I'm not young anymore, my penis is withered."

You can see the disappointment in Yuna's eyes. In your youth, a second round might have been possible, but now your libido is limited to your arousal, and after emptying yourself into her, you no longer feel anything on that level.

"Daddy... Are you going to leave me like this?" says Yuna as she gets down on all fours, points her bottom at you and spreads her pussy with your cum dripping from it.

The sight of your daughter in this position would have turned any man on. You feel like it, but your desire is gone for the moment. You see your daughter wiggling her bottom, begging you to fuck her, and you're powerless to stop her.

"Dad, I'm sorry... I lied, I haven't taken the pill yet, I want a second shot or I won't take it. The longer you wait the more your seeds will fertilise my garden, look how hungry my pussy is, come and make sure you flood my pussy next to save my career."

You're at a loss for words, whether to believe her or not, but one thing's for sure, she knows how to work you because your cock has come back to life and you're going to take malicious pleasure in making her regret having put that doubt in your head.

You grab her hips and penetrate her little pussy, slamming your balls against her arse, 

The gentleness of before has been transformed into a wild fuck where only pleasure is king. Your hands are firmly planted on her hips as you pound her with your pelvis, creating waves on her buttocks that will soon feel the onslaught of your hands.

"Daddy, your cock is stirring my insides, your sperm is mixing in my pussy, push hard".

Your daughter is now nothing more than a vulgar hole in your assaults, the seed of doubt she has planted in your mind has completely removed your sanity. If she is indeed unprotected, your first sperm must have done its work in spite of you. When in doubt, you prefer to flood her a second time and make sure she takes her medicine.

Go ahead daddy, make me your property, claim my pussy as your own personal garden, I'll take care of all your fruit,' Yuna's provocations rage in your mind. So you explode into your offspring's pussy again, you stand for a few seconds spasming against your daughter's ass as she collapses onto the bed, then you do the same, completely exhausted.

'Was that true about the pill, baby?

'Yes...' she says shyly. Now that all her libido has left her body, she presses you against her breasts and whispers in your ear: "It's too early to taste my juice, you'll have to give me some more water.

Your daughter is soon off to dreamland, still naked, and the bed is soaked with the fluids of your lovemaking. You make sure you look as tired as possible before you too collapse.

.

.

You wake up to a pleasant smell, but also to a body in pain. The bedroom gym session hasn't done your body any good, but your mind is at peace. As you leave your room, you see Yuna in an apron preparing breakfast. Beside her is a pack of contraceptive pills, two of which are already empty. When she sees you, she says:

"Good morning, Dad, you're going to need your strength, remember, you have to stir the soil first before you put your seed in. We're going to have to spend some time on this before you can make my pussy fertile for you."

Later, as you're driving to work, you see an important email from your CEO and a message from Yuna; you'd like to think that the email is more important, but that would be lying to yourself,

The text message is just a selfie of your daughter still in bed next to you with the message 'I've got a body full of marks, the girls are going to realise what we've done, not to mention I've still got your sperm in me 🤭"

Classic Yuna, but you'll have to get used to it. You've made a pact with a demon, but who cares, you're no angel anyway.

As for the email, just looking at the title 'Meeting with JYP & ITZY', it looks like you're finally going to meet one or more members of your daughter's group.

______________________________________________________________

[lupinqs]

CHAPTER ONE ━━ Move-in Day

❀ ━ pairing: paige bueckers x oc (jo jacobson)

❀ ━ word count: 5.8K

❀ ━ warnings: none except this shits so dialogue heavy it’s almost sickening

❀ ━ links: my masterlist, nobody gets me masterlist

❀ ━ author’s note: hiii so this is my new series!!! i lowkey hate this chapter SO much i’ve rewritten it three times and can’t get it the way i want so i’m just publishing it as is. this fic is going to be much more light-hearted than take me to church (lol), big big slow burn and if i get it right almost reminiscent of a romcom. i hope you guys enjoy this chapter more than i did LOL

THE EARLY afternoon light filters in through the half-drawn blinds, casting long shadows across the apartment floor. Paige stands in the middle of her new room, surveying the chaos of boxes, bags, and half-assembled furniture. It’s good to be back on campus—she’s been away for a few weeks, visiting her dad and Drew in Maryland and then her mom and siblings in Montana, and while she’s glad to have seen them, she can’t help but feel a pull toward the UConn, being with the team, practicing, basketball, all the above.

Her mind buzzes with excitement, anticipation for the new year, the new faces, the new challenges. She’s already mentally putting together how the season might go, how she’ll keep pushing herself harder, how she’s ready to lead her team. It feels like the first time in a long time that she’s been able to focus purely on basketball without the stress or rehab and recovery and she’s glad.

Her roommate, Josephine Jacobson—Jo—isn’t around yet. She’s a freshman, a sweet girl, the type that bleeds sunshine but can pull the demon out of herself on the court. Paige knows all about her, of course—how she’s a natural point guard, the number one recruit in the nation, will probably be the future of their team—but they’ve never really been close. Haven’t had the chance to be. But, as always, Paige feels optimistic about it. God put them together for a reason. After all, her past roommates have become some of her best friends. Nika and Evina her freshman year, and then Amari and Dorka last year. It just works out that way. Basketball bonds people, and she’s sure this year will be no different.

She moves one of the boxes to the side, careful not to knock over a stack of them as she does so. She arranges a pile of sweatshirts and sweatpants, making sure everything’s folded as neatly as she’s able to before moving on to the next task. This year, she’s determined to keep things organized, less chaos, more control. She wants her space to actually look nice, not like she’s some sort of slob. (She’s not sure how long this goal is going to last for).

Aubrey strolls in, another one of Paige’s boxes tucked into her hip. She’s already unpacked herself, having got here yesterday, and she’d offered to help Paige when she got here a little under an hour ago. Aubrey opens the box, seeing the bright purple comforter inside.

“Okay, P! I see color!” she says, a teasing grin on her face. “You finally given up on making your room look like a prison cell?”

Paige laughs, rolling her eyes. “Aye, my standards have rose this year. No more living in a box.” She gestures to the several LeBron and basketball posters filtering the floor in the corner of the room. “Decorating it nice this time, trust.”

Aubrey shakes her head, clearly amused. “Yep, I’m sure Bron’s face being the first thing you see when you walk in is gon’ make it real cozy.”

Paige just laughs again, stepping back to decide which corner of the room she wants her bed in. She tilts her head, looking back before deciding it’ll go best directly across the mirror-closet. For certain reasons she’d probably rather keep to herself for now.

“Who’re you rooming with again?” Paige asks, looking over at Aubrey, who’s taken the liberty of placing the millions of shoes Paige owns on the top shelf of her closet.

“Carol and Lili. It’s gonna be chill, for sure.” She shrugs before her eyes gleam a little, smirking at Paige. “Azzi’s gonna have it rough this year, though. Putting her with two freshmen is crazy work. They hyper as hell.”

Paige shrugs a little as she moves over to her bed. “Eh, Ines seems more quiet if anything. Ice, though, yeah. Azzi’ll be fine, though. She deals with me enough and I’m prolly just as bad.”

“Worse,” Aubrey corrects.

Paige rolls her eyes, opting to ask, “Can you help?” instead of responding to the jab. Aubrey nods, moving from her spot by the closet to stand next to Paige before the bed. “Where d’you want it?” she asks.

“Just in that corner,” the blonde responds, nodding her head to the other side.

Aubrey nods again and strides to the opposite side of the bed, the one near the wall. It’s a queen, so it’s too wide for just the two of them to carry, meaning they’ll have to just push it. Paige sighs before starting, her muscles straining slightly as she shoves her bed across the floor, the bed frame scraping noisily against it. Aubrey’s beside her, grabbing the other side with a grunt, their movements in sync but still awkward, both of them trying to be careful not to knock anything over or break anything.

“So,” Aubrey starts, breaking the rhythm of their movements, “what d’you think about yours? Jo. She’s a freshie, too.”

Paige doesn’t pause, her hands gripping the bed frame as she shifts it a few more inches. She’s thinking more about the layout of the room—where she wants things. After a few seconds, she shrugs, glancing over at Aubrey. “She’s cute,” Paige says simply, her voice light as she looks for the right angle to fit the bed by the wall.

Aubrey pauses. For a second, Paige doesn’t even notice—she’s too busy pushing the bed into position. But then Aubrey let’s our a low, exaggerated breath and Paige glances up, noticing the way she’s studying her with a raised brow.

Aubrey gives her a behave type of look. “You cannot fuck Jo Jacobson,” she tells Paige, slow and deliberate, like she’s really trying to get the blonde to understand this.

Paige’s head whips toward her, eyes wide, her grip slipping off the bed frame. “What?” she asks, voice higher than she intends. She looks at Aubrey, still not quite sure if she’s hearing her right. “What are you even talking ‘bout?”

Aubrey just stares, the expression on her face unwavering. “I’m saying, you can’t fuck her. Like, seriously, don’t even think about it.”

The words hit Paige like a slap, but it’s not the harshness of them that makes her heart skip. It’s the fact that Aubrey said it with such absolute certainty, like it was a rule she needed to lay down for Paige.

The blonde furrows her brows as she process what Aubrey just said. She opens her mouth, trying to make sense of it. “Aubrey, what? I—” she stops herself, trying to piece things together. The more she thinks about it, the weirder it all sounds. She barely knows Jo—hell, Jo hasn’t even gotten to campus yet. She’s literally just a sweet freshman, one of the new players. Of course, Paige isn’t thinking about anything remotely romantic with her. Not at all.

She can’t even fathom it.

“Aubrey, bro, are you seriously suggesting that I… What?” Paige repeats, still not believing it. “I—I don’t—no, no, that’s not even a thing.”

Aubrey exclaims, “You just said she was cute! You can’t be doing that, P.”

Paige shakes her head, laughing a little in disbelief, clearly thrown by the whole insinuation. “Yeah, like in a I-wanna-pinch-your-cheeks kind of cute,” she says, mimicking the motion with her hands. “Like she’s sweet, not like she’s fine and I wanna hit that. She’s a freshman and our teammate, bro—you know I ain’t do stuff like that.”

Aubrey, unfazed by Paige’s defense, just raises an eyebrow. “Ion know, your hook-ups have been kinda wild lately.”

Paige rolls her eyes as she reaches down, grabbing the corner of the bed and pulling it another inch into place. “That’s different,” Paige tells her. “That was like, months ago—”

“Three weeks ago,” Aubrey interrupts, but Paige doesn’t bother listening.

“—and that wasn’t even serious. I wouldn’t do that shit with Jo. She’s pretty, but—”

She cuts herself off, realizing how that could sound, and immediately backpedals.

“But she’s a teammate,” Paige finishes, nodding as though it’s the most logical conclusion. Which, it is. “I don’t see her like that. She’ll prolly be like a little sister or something. Seriously, you ain’t gotta worry about this.”

Aubrey doesn’t seem entirely convinced but just shrugs it off with a nonchalant wave. “Alright, alright. Just makin’ sure. Senior duties and all,” she says.

Paige rolls her eyes, nudging the girl in her ribs. Aubrey hisses, and nudges the blonde back. And then they return their attention to the bed, giving it one final tug, making sure it’s aligned just right.

Paige pulls away, taking a look with her hands on her hips. The room looks good, feels right. A good place to spend her next year. And even though she doesn’t know what that year might bring—how the team will play, how her body will hold up—it feels like everything’s in its place for now.

(Minus Aubrey’s odd assumptions, that is).

JO’S STOMACH flutters with a mixture of excitement and nerves as the car pulls into the parking lot right in front of what will be her new home. Her gaze drifts over the apartment building, taking in the sprawling complex that will be hers for the next year. The sun is high, casting everything in a golden glow, and it’s one of those perfect, early summer days—the kind that makes everything feel new and fresh. This is it. She’s finally here. UConn; her dream since forever. The place she’s watched on TV for as long as she can remember, watching them win championship after championship. And, now, it’s real. She’s actually here.

Her dad pulls into a parking space, the car humming to a stop, and Jo takes a deep breath, fighting back the lump in her throat. It’s not that she’s scared; it’s more that it feels huge. This is the beginning of everything. Her heart races a little, her palms tingling. She’s excited—so excited—but it’s all a little daunting, too. The whole what if she doesn’t belong here, what if it’s not everything she’s ever dreamed of echoes in her head, but she knows better than to entertain those thoughts. Despite this always being her dream school, she made sure to explore her options before committing. And, after everything, Storrs was somehow her favorite.

But it’s still a little hard to ignore the tiny voice in the back of her mind that whispers doubts. At least she has familiar faces here—her teammates. She can’t imagine coming here alone, without knowing anyone at all, without that built-in support system. It helps, knowing that the people she’s going to spend the next chapter of her life with are familiar faces, not strangers. Still, there’s a big difference between practice and living together, between seeing someone for a few hours on a court and sharing an apartment with them. The whole thing feels a little surreal.

“Ready, sunshine?” her dad asks, giving her a side-eye as he shuts off the car. His voice has a teasing, comforting quality that always makes Jo feel like everything will be okay.

Jo doesn’t answer right away, just smiles nervously, nodding as she unbuckles her seatbelt. “I think so,” she says, trying to sound more confident than she feels.

Her mom grins at her from the front seat, practically glowing with excitement. “Come on, it’s gonna be so great, Joey.”

Jo laughs softly, the sound easy and light, nodding. They get out of the car, opening the trunk, and Jo begins unloading her bags and boxes—the millions of them. She didn’t mean to over-pack, but somehow, her whole life had been crammed into suitcases and boxes. Her parents each grab as much as they can hold, but even the three of them can’t carry everything, so they head toward the building, the weight of it all already starting to feel like more than it should.

The hallway inside the building smells like fresh paint and clean floors, and it has that crisp, cool air of a place that’s seen its fair share of new beginnings. Jo’s parents chat with each other, but Jo can hardly keep her thoughts straight. She’s here, really here, and she’s not sure if it’s excitement or fear that’s making her heart beat so fast.

They trudge up the stairs together—her dad leading, her mom picking up the rear, and Jo in the middle. The stairs creak beneath their weight, and every step takes them closer to her new life. She tries not to think about how much this move means, how much it’s going to mean—because that’s just the kind of thing that could make her go a little crazy.

When they finally reach her apartment, Jo’s the first to pull out her keys. She opens the door, excitement bubbling in her chest, but as she’s about to step inside, someone is trying to step out, bumping right into her.

Paige.

She steadies Jo with a hand on her shoulder, looking down at the girl—she’s only got a couple inches on Jo, but it certainly feels like a lot more right now—saying, with a little bit of surprise in her tone, “Oh, hi, Jo.”

Jo stills for just a split second. She’s met Paige several times—throughout her recruitment, last year when she and Ice and Yanna were here for First Night, all the games she attended in between—but, for Jo, it’s still a little like, wow, okay, hi Paige Bueckers. She’s admired Paige and her game for years, so yeah, maybe she’s a little starstruck every time she sees her. But she realizes just as quickly how that needs to change immediately because they are going to be living together for the next year. She’s here for a reason, not to be starry-eyed over the blonde girl in front of her.

“Hey!” Jo manages, flashing Paige a bright, warm smile that’s always her go-to move, even if her heart is racing.

Paige’s gaze shifts from Jo’s face to her parents, then down to the ridiculous amount of luggage they’re all holding, and her eyebrows raise. “Wow,” she says with a laugh. “Over-packer?”

Jo laughs, too, feeling some of that initial awkwardness beginning to seep away. “This isn’t even all of it,” she admits, shifting her weight a little. She realizes how she’s being a little rude, not introducing her mom and dad, so she gestures to them and says, “These are my parents. And this is Paige.”

Jo’s parents exchange polite hellos, nodding toward the blonde, who’s already stepping aside to let them through.

“Lemme help you with that,” Paige offers before anyone can protest, already lifting a couple of boxes from Jo’s mom. It’s clear she’s used to helping out—comfortable in this setting—and Jo appreciates it, even though she knows she can manage. But Paige’s energy is infectious, and she can’t help but feel comforted by the ease in the older girl’s presence.

“Thanks,” Jo says gratefully. “It’s a lot of stuff.”

Paige shrugs, a casual smile on her face. “It’s all good. We’ve got time. I’ll help you get settled.”

The four of them make their way into the apartment, and Jo’s parents immediately make a beeline for Jo’s bedroom to drop off the bags they’re carrying. They work together, setting everything down in a neat pile before Jo’s mom turns to her with a warm smile.

“We’ll go get the rest of it,” she tells her daughter. “You start unpacking, ‘kay?”

Jo nods, trying to hide the way her heart sinks a little at the idea of being left alone for the first time in a new place.

But then she realizes, she’s not alone. Paige is still here.

Jo takes a deep breath, then steps further into her room, already eyeing the empty bed and the space where she’s going to have to build her new life. The door clicks shut behind her, and suddenly it’s just the two of them. For a moment, neither says anything. It’s a little awkward, that first silence between two almost-strangers who are about to be more than that—roommates, teammates, friends.

Paige rubs the back of her neck, probably feeling it too. Clearly, though, she doesn’t like that, and Jo watches as she lazily plops down into the standard-issue desk chair, making herself at ease. She grins at Jo, saying with a casualness that somehow manages to be both disarming and mildly intimidating, “So, how was the drive?”

Jo shrugs a little, leaning slightly on the bed frame. “Not bad,” she replies. “Boston’s only like an hour and a half away.”

“Oh, yeah,” Paige says, nodding her head in almost mock realization. “New England girl. I knew that.”

Jo grins, bemused and already starting to feel more comfortable. “Born and raised.”

“Nice,” Paige says, dragging the word out a little. “You got the accent and everything?”

“I don’t know, do I sound like I do?” Jo asks, laughing softly.

Paige’s grin widens as she spins in the chair. “Hmm,” she hums, eyes narrowing teasingly. “I dunno, talk more.”

Jo laughs again, looking at the blonde with a mix of amusement and disbelief. “What do you want me to say?” she questions, tilting her head as another small giggle bubbles in her chest.

“Like, something with an R. That’s what a Boston accent is, right?” Paige shrugs, gummy smile on full display and eyebrows raised. She leans forward a little, before saying with a terrible attempt at a Boston accent, “Park the car in Harvard yard?”

Jo can’t help but outright snort at that, stomach constricting as she laughs at the blonde. Paige laughs, too, scrunching her nose as she does so. “Oh my God, you did not,” Jo manages between giggles, eyes crinkling a little.

“I did,” Paige replies. “Now you gotta! Lemme hear the accent!”

“You’re not real,” Jo mumbles, shaking her head, in half disbelief at the pure unseriousness of Paige Bueckers. But it’s nice—that she’s already making her feel so comfortable. Jo sighs, before saying indignantly, “Park the car in Harvard yard.”

Paige claps her hands together, laughing loudly as she exclaims, “You definitely have one!”

Jo’s jaw drops a little, defending, “No one has ever told me I have an accent, you definitely just need your ears checked.”

Paige grins, shaking her head, saying, “Nah, it’s there. I heard it.”

“Fine,” Jo relents, rolling her eyes. “You should hear my dad, though. It’s really thick sometimes.”

Paige leans forward on the chair again, eyes lighting up with a bit of interest. “I gotta hear it. Maybe I’ll ask him to say it, too.”

Jo just shakes her head, rolling her eyes again as the corners of her mouth twitch upward despite herself. There’s something about Paige that makes it hard to stay guarded—not that Jo was trying to. She’s just… larger than life in a way that could definitely be overwhelming, but there’s such an ease to her too, a confidence that feels oddly inviting.

“Are you finished unpacking?” Jo asks, breaking the newfound silence as she gestures vaguely toward the blonde’s room behind the door.

Paige shrugs, her expression somewhere between proud and sheepish. “Mostly. Aubrey and I did it this morning, but I definitely cut corners. If you open any of the drawers in there, so messy. I got lazy.”

Jo raises an eyebrow, her lips quirking up. “Efficient, though.”

“Exactly,” Paige says, pointing at her. “You get it.”

And then the easy rhythm between them is interrupted by the loud, unmistakable growl of Jo’s stomach. Her cheeks flush immediately as Paige’s grin spreads wider, her laugh concerns again breaking the quiet of the room.

“Hungry?” she teases, spinning the chair one last time before stopping to slouch backward against it.

“Ugh, yeah,” Jo groans, pressing a hand to her stomach. “I haven’t eaten since, like, breakfast.”

“Same,” Paige says with a nod, pushing herself up out of the chair and stretching her arms over her head. “I think we’re all gonna get pizza tonight, though. Go up to Nika’s and hang out. She’s with Yanna and Amari. You’re coming, of course.”

Jo grins, raising her eyebrows as she says teasingly, “I don’t have a choice?” It’s just a joke, because, obviously, even if she did, she’d go either way.

Paige gives her a little look, narrowing her eyes jokingly as she leans forward, flicking Jo on the arm and telling her, “Absolutely not.”

Before she can respond, there’s a knock at the doorframe and Jo’s mom’s voice floats in cheerfully, “Look who we found!”

Jo turns to see her parents standing in the doorway, her dad carrying a suitcase while her mom holds the door open for someone else—none other than Ice Brady. Jo knows Ice well, the two of them having gotten easily close during different USA basketball gigs and through their shared commitment process. Ice grins broadly, a laundry basket balanced on her hip—clearly, she’s been put to work.

“Aye, hey guys!” she calls out, stepping into the room with an energy that matches her nickname—cool, but in a warm and easy way.

“Of course they roped you into helping,” Jo says, laughing as Ice sets the basket down with a playful groan.

“I was in the wrong place at the wrong time,” she says, shaking her head playfully as she glances back at Jo’s parents who just smile at her, shrugging.

Ice then leans in, giving Jo a little side-hug as she says, “Hey, JoJo.”

Jo rolls her eyes, swatting at Ice’s arm. “I told you, no calling me that.” While Paige, who’s now leant casually against the desk, exclaims, “Oh my God, like JoJo Siwa.”

Ice laughs saying, “Exactly,” as she leans over and daps Paige up with a grin. Jo gives both of them little glares, saying, “No, I am not JoJo Siwa! Jo or Josephine, nothing else.”

Ice shrugs, sniggering, “JoJo.”

“Isuneh!”

THE AIR in the apartment is warm and filled with the hum of overlapping voices. Paige sits tucked into the corner of the small couch, her legs crossed under her, a half-eaten slice of pizza balanced on a paper plate in her lap. To her right, Dorka’s mid-sentence, recounting some story from her summer that has Aaliyah laughing hard enough to cover her mouth with her hand.

It’s the first real team hangout of the year, the kind where the bonds for the season start to form, where they begin to really get to know the new guys. The absence of last year’s seniors—Christyn, Olivia, E—feels strange but not exactly heavy; just like a space waiting to be filed rather than a void that can’t be. Paige glances across the room at Lou, Azzi, and Ines, sprawled across the other couch. Azzi leans back, her ankles crossed on the coffee table, her focus more on her phone than the conversation, but Paige knows her well enough to see that she’s listening. Lou’s animated hands keep catching Paige’s eye as she gestures through some story, and Ines is nodding along, face lighting up with her adorable freshman-ness.

Paige’s gaze then drifts downward, landing on the scene on the floor. Jo is half-laying across Caroline’s legs, her dark hair spilling against Caroline’s leggings. Caroline, ever the mother, absently runs her fingers through Jo’s hair while chatting with Aubrey. Faintly, Paige is aware that Jo and Caroline know each other well, have been friends for years. Both grew up in Massachusetts, not far from one another, same AAU team if Paige’s memory serves her correctly.

The new guys—the freshmen and Lou—all already fit in well. Lou and Ines have already created easy bonds with each other and Azzi. Ice is playfully bickering with Nika and Amari at the table, the three of them leaning into a conversation that seems half-joking, half-serious. Jo’s a little quiet, looking more thoughtful than anything, but Paige can tell she’s completely comfortable as she lays on Caroline and listens to her steady stream of chatter. Yanna, too, though she’s also on the quiet side, pitches into Aubrey and Caroline’s conversation every now and then.

Paige shifts her focus back to her plate, taking another bite of pizza. It’s bland and overly chewy, a far cry from what she’s been craving. She doesn’t say anything, though. The conversation flows around her, easy and light, punctuated by bursts of laughter and the occasional clink of someone setting a cup down too hard.

“God, this tastes like cardboard,” Ice announces suddenly, holding up her slice with a look of exaggerated disgust.

“Yeah, it’s… not good,” Jo says with a little grimace, Paige watching as she glances at her half-eaten slice that she hasn’t touched in probably ten minutes.

“Tastes like cafeteria food,” Yanna says from her spot on the bar stool, though Paige can see that she’s eaten all of hers.

“Worse than cafeteria food,” Azzi chimes in, eyes still on her phone, tone a little dry. “School pizza pretends to have flavor.”

Nika nods at everyone’s words, looking like the pizza situation might as well be a tragedy. Which, to Nika, Paige knows it kind of is. “Yeah, bro, we gotta go to New Haven if we want any god pizza. It’s my biggest disappointment in life.”

Paige grins at that, leaning back into the couch as she watches the exchange. It’s funny to her how every year, without fail, the new players get hit with the reality of Storrs’ subpar pizza options. “Y’all gotta get used to it.”

Ice groans, and Paige laughs a little as she contradicts herself and takes another big bite of pizza.

Jo glances up from her spot on the floor, dark brows arching in amusement. “Nika, New Haven’s an hour away.”

“Worth it,” Nika insists, hands slicing through the air for emphasis. “Best pizza in the country, hands down.”

“Eh, debatable,” Ice fires back, smirking.

“Debatable?” Nika repeats, looking scandalized. “’Kay, no, see, now you gotta go. I’m takin’ you to Pepe’s or Sally’s, and then we’ll talk.”

The debate spirals from there, the room splitting into factions—those who have been to New Haven and swear by it, and the skeptics like Ice who clearly need convincing. Paige inputs a couple times, but other than that continues eating her cardboard pizza, taking the time to listen, which she doesn’t usually do. The topic quickly starts to feel like it’s been beaten to death, but that doesn’t stop Nika from gesturing wildly as Ice shakes her head, arms crossed like she’s already over it.

Paige’s gaze shifts from them to Jo and Caroline, who are directly in front of her across the room. There’s a mischievous tilt to Jo’s smile as she watches Ice and Nika, and Paige feels a pang of curiosity. Jo looks like she’s got something to say, and sure enough, a beat later, she interrupts with a voice that carries just enough weight to make everyone turn her way.

“Ice,” Jo interrupts, her tone deceptively innocent, her eyes glinting with mischief. “Let’s quit talking about pizza and talk about your new little goal you’ve got.”

The room collectively seems to perk up at that. Paige sits up straighter, interest piqued. She glances at Ice, who immediately shoots Jo a warning glare.

“No,” the Brady girl says firmly, voice clipped.

The refusal only makes Paige more curious. She leans forward, elbows on her knees now, eyes wide with a playful insistence. “Oh, no, you gotta tell us now,” she exclaims, grin wide.

Aaliyah, beside her, says, “Yeah, Ice, don’t leave us hangin’!”

Ice shakes her head, clearly unwilling to budge. But Jo, apparently unfazed by the glare the Brady girl has set on her hard, sits up slightly, her smile turning almost devilish. “Ice said she wants a sneaky link by next week. It’s her number one goal now that she’s on campus!”

The reaction is instant and explosive. Loud laughs and little screams of exclamation erupt from everyone as Ice’s face twists into a mix of betrayal and outrage. Paige finds herself laughing so hard she has to lean back into the couch, her head tipping toward the ceiling as her shoulders shake.

“Jo!” Ice exclaims, her voice a biz of exasperation and disbelief. She grabs a napkin from the table and chucks it at Jo, who barely flinches.

Caroline picks the napkin up and tosses it toward the trash can, her tone scolding and motherly as she says, “Ice.”

But Ice doesn’t listen. Instead, she points an accusing finger at Jo, her eyes narrowing. “JoJo, you’re such a traitor.”

Jo’s grin only widens. She shrugs, looking utterly unbothered as she settled back into Caroline’s lap. “Hey, we’re all willing to help you find a fuck buddy, don’t you worry.”

Ice glares even harder and it makes Jo laugh again. Paige can’t help but let her gaze linger on the brunette, her chest still tight from laughing. Jo’s giggles are unrestrained, her cheeks flushed with amusement. There’s something about it that Paige finds infectious. The way Jo lights up when she’s laughing feels almost magnetic, like she’s carrying her own little pocket of sunshine.

“Oh, Ice,” Nika says, pulling Paige’s gaze away from Jo. There’s a familiar glint in Nika’s eyes. “If you need help finding a sneaky link, Paige is the expert. She’s got you covered.”

Paige’s mouth falls open, eyes widening as she stares at her twin. “Yo!” she exclaims, sitting up.

Amari snorts from her spot at the table, her expression one of barely-constrained amusement. “P, be for real.”

Azzi, who hasn’t looked up from her phone in a while, adds in without missing a beat, “Paige is a man-whore, if that wasn’t obvious.”

Paige gasps dramatically, her hand clutching her chest like she’s been mortally wounded. “I ain’t even a man!”

“You act like one,” Caroline chimes in, voice calm but teasing.

Paige just stares at all of them, her mouth slightly open, as if she can’t believe what she’s hearing. “Man, what’s all this gangin’ up on me for?” she asks, her tone half-offended, half-playful.

Eventually, the room’s energy slowly shifts as the teasing dies down. Laughter fades into soft chuckles, and everyone starts settling back into their spots. Paige stretches her legs out again, her socked feet brushing lightly against the coffee table. The buzz of the conversation has left her grinning, though her cheeks still feel warm from all the ribbing. She’s content to let the chatter flow around her now, her focus drifting as she scrolls on Instagram until Aaliyah leans forward from the couch and throws a spark back into the room.

“Jo,” Aaliyah says, tone playful, “since you were so quick to expose Ice, you got anyone you’ve been wanting?”

Paige perks up at that, curious despite herself. Sue her if she’s nosy. She glances toward Jo, who’s still sprawled on the floor, her head now resting against Caroline’s knee. Jo’s expression doesn’t change much, maybe softens slightly.

“No, she doesn’t,” Ice says quickly, annoyance lacing her voice. Paige can tell it’s because she can’t humiliate Jo like she’s just exposed her. Ice gestures at the Jacobson girl with her pizza crust like she’s making a point. “Girl’s already met her damn husband.”

Paige raises an eyebrow, intrigued by the certainty in Ice’s tone. She watches Jo carefully now, noting the way a faint smile tugs at her lips. It’s not the cheeky grin she’s been wearing most of the night; it’s something softer, quieter, like the thought of this so-called future husband of hers is enough to soothe her, ground her.

Amari leans forward from her chair and tilts her head. “Aw, Jo, you have a boyfriend?”

Jo nods, that same small, telling smile still on her face. Paige notices how her cheeks turn just the slightest shade pinker. It’s… different. Softer, almost vulnerable.

Damn, Paige thinks, watching her. She must really love that boy.

The room seems to erupt again, this time not in laughter but in a cascade of questions and exclamations. Nika asks, “How long you been dating?”

Jo shifts a little, clearly embarrassed, mumbling, “Eighth grade.”

Paige feels her eyes widen, almost so wide they might as well pop out of their sockets. It’s impressive—a middle school relationship lasting that long.

But then Caroline adds with a knowing smile, “Yeah, but you’ve loved him since you were, like, four, Jo.”

Jo’s face flushes deeper, and she buries it briefly against Caroline’s leg before mumbling, “Yeah, we’ve been next-door neighbors our whole lives.”

The whole team seems to aw at that, exclaiming how cute. “Jo, that’s like a movie!” Azzi says softly, a hopeless romantic. Paige has to admit they’re not wrong. It’s that perfect, golden sort of story people write novels about—the girl-next-door falling for the boy-next-door.

Except Paige doesn’t really think it’s all that cute. Maybe it’s because she’s too gay, but she doesn’t get how anyone could be into a boy, especially for that long. It just seems… exhausting. Still, she keeps her mouth shut, letting the conversation roll on without her. It’s uncharacteristic.

Ines, eyes wide with interest asks, “What’s his name?”

“Asher,” Jo answers, voice soft but steady.

Dorka, next to Paige, claps her hands together. “Let me see a picture, Jo!”

Jo hesitates for a second, her blush depending, but then she sits up and pulls her phone out of her pocket. She unlocks it, turning the screen toward Dorka—and toward Paige, who can’t help but sneak a glance.

Paige hates to admit it, but it’s… cute. The way Jo’s looking at him in the picture—it’s soft, unguarded, like the rest of the world could fall away, and she wouldn’t care as long as he’s there.

Paige doesn’t know if she’s jealous that Jo has a love like that and she doesn’t, or if she’s disgusted by the whole prospect.

Dorka coos, smile wide. “So cute!”

Jo laughs, a little bashful now, and Aubrey pipes up from her spot on the barstool by the kitchen. “Where’s he going to school?”

“Penn State,” Jo answers.

Paige catches the the slight shift in Jo’s posture, the way she tenses a little, the way her smile falters ever so slightly. That kind of distance is hard, especially for a young relationship.

Paige leans back into the couch, her gaze still lingering on Jo as the conversation continues. She wonders if they’ll last. Not in a mean way—Jo clearly loves the guy—but Paige has seen it happen before. Everyone has. High school sweethearts falling apart once they hit college, the distance and the changes proving too much.

Still, something about the way Jo smiled at him in that photo makes Paige hesitate. Maybe they’ll be one of the lucky ones.

Or maybe it’s not her place for even thinking about it at all.

[bunny-jpeg]

team principal!max verstappen - he really did take a shining to his new driver. verstappen racing needed all the driving power it could get and max had to take a few risks. when he saw you cross the track, not even twenty-five yet. he saw the championship in your eyes.

"want to make a deal?" "a deal, sir. i'm a driver not a prostitute." "no, no. you're far too talented to do those kinds of tricks." max's finger dragged down your wrist, "how do you feel about becoming a formula one driver?" only an idiot would've said no.

you became his star, his champion. more trophies than stars in the monaco night sky. as he clinked glasses with you over a stellar season. you mirrored your mentor. you raced the way we did, was sarcastic the way he was. there were even side-by-side photos of how you stood. you broke his records and did it with a bright smile.

but even at the top. you craved more. and while you carried max's advice in your back pocket. you wanted more than pats on the shoulder and sound guidance. in a way it meant tugging on the man's jealousy. encourage thoughts of you that were lewd. what started as sly touches and lingering stares eventually turned into max kissing you in the middle of the garage after another successful weekend. and when he held you face and looked into your eyes. you knew that you had him.

but, you didn't realize that max wasn't letting you go anytime soon. your shadow in the paddock, the voice in your ear as you drove. he left you little time to form any romantic connections. "you wanted to be the best." he held you by the chin to make you look at him, "winners don't take short cuts." and you nodded at him. max wondered as he held you chin, how red he could make you lips once he finished biting at them. he couldn't leave your neck covered in hickies, but he could leave your lips red and swollen. even in the off season you were close to him. often at his apartment in monaco, there he could be a little more forthcoming with his affection. blinds drawn to keep out the afternoon light as his eagerly ate you out. his hands on your thighs, applying enough pressure to keep you in his grasp.

there were more than enough rumors circulating around you and max. you tried to distance yourself as a result, fearing what others thought of you. but max only brought you in closer. "who cares what they think." he purred, "they're just jealous. you have the skills, the team, the team principal. they're envious that they'll never accomplish as much as you." then pulled you in a little closer to kiss the top of your head. a promise that you'd never squirm out of his grasp, there was a reason why in your contract there wasn't a way to get out of it for at least five years. after that time max had bigger plans for you.

you knew you should be worried. but you were blinded by the glory. the victories, the trophies, the money. the pouring of champagne and the world knowing your name. you owed everything to max. the one who plucked you out of obscurity and into the dazzling lights of formula one. but when you were in his apartment, dressed in just his t-shirt and panties as he made you dinner after a tumble in the sheets. you could feel the bites on your thighs and stomach, the ache in your knees and back from when you rode him. when you were alone with him outside the track, the worry set in.

max's words hung in your mind, "there's no need to worry, my prize.", it was simply an accident that there was a hole in your team shirt. max happily gave you his! don't look too closely at the shape of the hole and don't start wondering if it was a pair of scissors that did it. it was simply a mix up in the computer that your last name on your paddock pass was 'verstappen', the intern who put in all the information must've clicked the wrong thing! (even though you knew it was max who sent over all your details at the beginning of the season). and definitely don't worry about what happened to that mechanic from ferrari who had a habit of coming over to talk with you. as your team principal, max will ensure that you're taken care of. right now you need to think about the qualifiers and the races!

"thank you so much, mrs. verstappen." a pa chirped before one of the races and you felt a cold shiver run through you.

it was only warmed when max placed his hand on your lower back. he chuckled, "does sound nice, doesn't it? mrs. verstappen." he smiled at you and you swallowed.

you feared that maybe, just maybe, you got in over your head.

[gpcwsl]

Can you please cherry on top 🍒 write Leah x R x Alessia in the beginning stages of their relationship?

I would love to see where lessi and le were actually dating & r fell for both of the girls, but the girls fell harder?

The two blondes are stubborn so angst with a happy ending! I feel like R would fall for lessi first due to her soft nature and welcoming the newbie on the team. R falls for le after getting to know her & doing a media tik tok with her?

I will let you have allllll the creative freedom, i feel like all the feels would be felt from each person 💖💖💖💖💖🤝🏻🤝🏻🤝🏻🤝🏻🤝🏻🚨🚨❤️‍🔥👏🏻😮‍💨

Warnings: short, written quickly, three people dating? I am not shipping Leah and Alessia, they are good friends.

Alessia Russo x Leah Williamson x Reader:

- We’re better together -

MasterList

Joining Arsenal felt like a dream come true, but as the newbie on the team, you couldn’t help but feel out of place. Alessia Russo was the first person to make you feel at home.

“Hey,” she said after training one day, her soft smile instantly disarming. “You settling in okay?”

You nodded, though the tightness in your chest betrayed the nerves you carried. “Yeah. It’s just a lot to take in, you know?”

“I get it,” Alessia replied, her voice warm. “When I first joined, I was a mess. But if you ever need anything, I’m here.”

Her kindness struck a chord with you. Over the next few weeks, Alessia became your anchor, her bubbly personality and open heart making it impossible not to feel drawn to her.

What you didn’t expect, however, was the way her girlfriend, Leah Williamson, made you feel.

Leah wasn’t as outwardly welcoming as Alessia. She was kind but guarded, her sharp wit and quiet confidence intimidating at first.

It wasn’t until a team TikTok challenge that you began to see another side of her. Paired up for the video, you spent the afternoon bantering and laughing as you stumbled through the dance routine.

“You’re terrible at this,” Leah teased, her blue eyes sparkling with amusement.

“You’re not much better,” you shot back, unable to suppress your grin.

By the time the video was finished, your cheeks ached from laughing, and something in Leah’s demeanor had shifted. She was still guarded, but there was a warmth to her now—a connection that left you wondering if maybe, just maybe, she saw you the way you were starting to see her.

It hit you one evening during a team dinner: you were falling for both of them.

Alessia was seated next to you, her laughter infectious as she recounted a story from training. Across the table, Leah caught your eye, her smirk sending a jolt through your chest.

You excused yourself to the bathroom, your hands gripping the sink as you stared at your reflection.

“This is bad,” you muttered to yourself. “This is so bad.”

But no matter how hard you tried, you couldn’t stop your feelings from growing.

Leah and Alessia weren’t blind to the way you looked at them, though they didn’t address it immediately. It wasn’t until a particularly tense training session that everything came to a head.

You’d been distracted, your performance subpar, and Leah—ever the perfectionist—was quick to call you out.

“Focus, [Y/N],” she snapped. “You’re better than this.”

Her words stung more than they should have, and when Alessia approached you after practice, concern etched on her face, the dam finally broke.

“I can’t do this,” you admitted, your voice trembling.

“Do what?” Alessia asked softly, her hand brushing against your arm.

You hesitated, tears pricking your eyes. “I can’t be around you two. It’s too much.”

Understanding dawned in Alessia’s expression, and she exchanged a look with Leah, who had been lingering nearby.

That evening, Leah and Alessia cornered you in the locker room, their expressions a mix of determination and vulnerability.

“We need to talk,” Leah said, her voice firm but not unkind.

You nodded, bracing yourself for the fallout.

“We’ve noticed how you’ve been acting around us,” Alessia began, her tone gentle. “And… we think we know why.”

Your breath caught in your throat, your heart pounding. “You do?”

Leah stepped closer, her gaze piercing. “You have feelings for us, don’t you?”

Silence hung heavy in the air before you finally nodded, your cheeks burning. “I’m sorry. I know it’s wrong—”

“It’s not wrong,” Alessia interrupted, her voice steady. “It’s just… complicated.”

Leah’s expression softened, her hand brushing yours. “The thing is… we feel the same way.”

The days that followed were awkward but hopeful as the three of you tried to figure out what this new dynamic meant. Alessia was the first to take a leap, inviting you to join her and Leah for a casual movie night.

As the three of you sat on the couch, Alessia’s head resting on your shoulder and Leah’s hand intertwined with yours, you couldn’t help but marvel at how right it felt.

But it wasn’t all smooth sailing. Leah’s stubbornness and Alessia’s tendency to avoid conflict led to tension, especially when it came to jealousy.

One evening, after a fan interaction where Alessia had been overly friendly, Leah’s frustration boiled over.

“You don’t have to flirt with everyone you meet,” she snapped.

Alessia’s eyes narrowed. “I wasn’t flirting, Leah.”

You stepped between them, your voice firm. “Enough. This isn’t helping.”

Their arguments always ended the same way: with apologies and quiet reassurances, but it was clear that this relationship would take work.

One rainy afternoon, the three of you found yourselves tangled together on Leah’s couch, the sound of raindrops against the window creating a soothing backdrop.

“I never thought this would work,” you admitted, your voice barely above a whisper.

Leah pressed a kiss to your temple, her voice soft. “Neither did we. But I’m glad it does.”

Alessia’s arms tightened around you, her smile radiant. “We’re better together.”

And as the rain fell outside, the three of you knew that this was just the beginning of a love story worth fighting for.

[solifloris]

≡;-꒰ 𝐗𝐀𝐕𝐈𝐄𝐑 ꒱₊˚ ପ⊹ I  𝒎𝒂𝒚𝒃𝒆 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒏𝒊𝒈𝒉𝒕

╰┈➤ ❝ xavier x afab!reader | VALENTINE'S EVENT !

tags : established relationship, general teasing and banter, kisses, cuddles, lots and lots of fluff, xavier glows when he's happy <3

wc : 2k

an : I MISS HIM. I MISS HIM I MISS HIM I MISS HIM I MISS HIM I MISS HIM AHUHUHUHU i needed to get this out of my system omg,,, this is the happiest i've been with writing for a while tysm @bunbunnies for the request AND HAPPY WHITE DAYYY !! (p.s. please listen to the song i swear it adds to the vibes) (p.p.s. additional tag @ourlittleuluru for also inspiring this hehe)

taglist : under the cut! (SIGN UP HERE)

ko-fi jar / commissions

Everyday is enough of a special day as long as it's with you.

Your eyes blinked open.

The advantage of sleeping in Xavier's room was that the blinds were drawn—it was the perfect environment to be conducive for sleep, so much so that the peaked, late-afternoon sun, did little to stir you awake. The sheets were warm, and cozy, and soft… You could sink into the mattress, so cloud-like and weightless.

It was dangerous, in a sense. Staying here made you forget what other things you had on your to-do list for the day. But turning your head to the side to rest your eyes upon the soundly sleeping figure next to you made everything worth it. Warm sunlight peeked in slightly through the blinds, illuminating the room in a soft, dim glow, but you didn't really need it. If anything, the only light you felt that you needed was right here, right next to you.

You noticed faint, barely-noticeable particles of light floating around the crown of his head, and you smiled.

Those weren't from the sunlight.

He must be having a good dream…

You shifted slightly. The movement pulled you away from his embrace just a little bit, but it was enough to get him to stir.

"Mmmnh…"

He didn't open his eyes, but his arms tugged you closer by the waist. An instinctive reaction, you could only assume, and a soft laugh fell from your lips in response. Something about the way he held you made him feel akin to a weighted blanket; despite being clearly asleep, his grip on you was firm enough that you could barely wiggle free from him this time.

You felt sleepy nuzzles into your shoulder, and you smiled and pat his arm.

Pats wouldn't work, of course.

Gently, you shook him, trying to nudge him off of you.

Bleary eyes opened, vision unfocused.

"What… time is it?"

A playful scoff on your end. "Gee, I dunno, Xavier. I'm kinda stuck here."

He blinked, for a moment. Once, twice. It took a while, and you patiently waited, eyebrow raised as your words—and the way he was hugging you so firmly—finally registered in his head. A hint of sheepishness was present on his gaze as he allowed you free from his grasp. You were quick to soothe with a kiss to the tip of his nose.

He sat up with you as you moved to reach for your phone, and out of the corner of your eye, you could see him rubbing his eyes as if it would do anything to help the sleepiness subside.

12:30 in the afternoon.

This was new—you never got to sleep in this much when you were alone, but sleeping with Xavier seemed to bring out newer, sleepier, admittedly lazier sides to you that you didn't know you could have. It was a good thing, of course; at least this time, you could actually rest. There was something freeing about it. Xavier never judged you for sleeping in with him; in fact, he'd much rather have you do just that than wake up without him.

And then your eyes drifted towards the date.

February 14th.

A moment of realization dawned.

You'd gotten so caught up in this just being another simple, restful day off, that you'd completely forgotten…

Slowly, sheepishly, you set your phone down and turned to Xavier.

Still clearly a little out of it, he was sitting up, staring blankly in your general direction. It seemed as if his mind was still asleep, slow blinks not particularly focusing on even you, or anything else. His hair was a mess, a few strands sticking out. His pajama top looked a little skewed—no doubt, if he could still be under the covers at this very moment, he certainly would have been.

But he also looked so freaking cute.

A moment of silence passed like that, a silly smile on your face as you tilted your head—because how could you look away from that? Few others would have the privilege of seeing the Association's most formidable Hunter doing adorable little eye rubs and trying to stay awake in his own bed. In fact, no one else probably did aside from you. And it was a sight to appreciate.

It didn't take too long for his gaze to focus back on you, and, whether out of another instinctual pull or out of a slight sense of embarrassment for realizing you'd been staring at him this whole time, he pulled you back against his chest. Automatically you curled your figure into him, ear resting against his heart as you listened to its ever-steady thrum.

"…It's almost one in the afternoon," you huffed. Yet there was no resistance in your voice; your arms wrapped around him in a reciprocal manner.

"Mhm. But… I want to stay like this a while longer."

"This is unfair, you're just too comfy…"

He shifted, coaxing your head up to look at him. Upon meeting his gaze, you could see that most of the sleep had since melted away to give way to a certain sense of fondness. "We don't have plans today," he murmured. "Can't we stay in a little longer?"

It was so difficult to say no.

A smile peeked at the corners of your lips.

"Well… how about, what do you want to eat later? We've missed breakfast, so this might as well be…"

"Brunch… right?"

"Mhm!" Your eyes fluttered as he reached over to trace your cheek, light, gentle touches that lulled you into a sense of comfort. "We could… order some takeout, maybe? It's been a while…"

"Sure. We can order from that place you like."

You watched, your own gaze softening, as he leaned in to press a kiss to your forehead.

"Xavier…"

"What do you want to do today?"

He tucked an awry strand of your hair away from your face this time, but the question made your eyes light up. Something in you knew what he wanted to hear—that he probably, likely wanted to just stay in and sleep.

Yet, you sat up, and you could have laughed at his expression. He blinked, taking another moment to process, and his brows furrowed ever so slightly. Unlike last time, he didn't sit up with you.

"I… I have an idea!" you nudged him. "Listen, you said so yourself. We don't have plans today… And, remember all those movies we said we'd watch together? Isn't this the perfect time for us to—"

He cut you off.

Another second had you practically yanked back down to him, and you let out a laugh.

"Five more minutes…"

—

You wondered if it was supposed to end up this way.

Messing around in the kitchen turned brunch into an odd combination of breakfast, lunch, and dinner, another reminder of just how easily things could flow into their own thing, when it was just the two of you. You could argue about how unhealthy your habits had been today, but one day was just one day, wasn't it? You had no real plans today—in the end, what it settled into was a mutual agreement to indulge in the day a little.

But what you hadn't expected was to walk into a living room that no longer… looked like the living room that you knew.

You didn't think you'd spent that much time fixing up the kitchen, but the stark change to the living room space proved otherwise.

Prepped for your little home theater date, the room had been dimmed, lights switched off—except, even with the lights on, you wouldn't have been able to pinpoint where exactly the television was, or where exactly the couch was, or where exactly Xavier was. Instead, what stood in front of you was a large amalgamation of blankets, and bedsheets, and pillows… Not quite organized in the least, nor matched in shade or size, but certainly very… big. You knew that these were all the extras that you had stored, and you couldn't quite describe what was in front of you.

A canopy?

A castle?

A… fort?

You stood there for a while, head tilted, noting a rummaging going around on the inside. It took a moment before you heard a little click, and the inside of the pillow fort glowed a warm, inviting orange.

Xavier poked his head out from under one of the blankets.

"Hi," he nodded at you.

The sparkle in his eyes told you that he was quite proud of yourself.

"…Hi," you laughed. "What's with the living room, Xav?"

"You… said you wanted to watch some movies. I figured I could turn it into something cozy."

"Except I'm always cozy with you."

"Then, extra cozy."

"Did you just want another place to fall asleep in?"

"…No…"

With a laugh, you waved your hand, and crawled under the fort with him.

The space was smaller inside than you'd expected it to be, all fluffy and warm and, true to his word—cozy. It certainly didn't look like much from the outside, but snuggling with him under a separate blanket of your own, leaning against the foot of the couch, the television settled in front of you… truly did make it feel like a personal little theater for the both of you.

Once again, perhaps instinctually, you curled sideways into him and lay your head on his chest. With one arm wrapped around you to keep you securely tucked into him, he used the other to point upwards.

Fairy lights.

Several strings of them, the very source of the little glow you'd been seeing from outside. The lights emitted from them weren't particularly strong, but all of it turned this whole thing into something that was—again—cozy.

A hand reached out, and you let out a soft laugh. "They look like stars."

He followed your motion, reaching out with you. His hand placed next to yours made yours incredibly small, but it made you smile. "Yeah," he agreed, "but they're also stars that don't feel too far away from us."

"Kinda like we're stargazing, huh? Without the cold…"

Your fingers intertwined with his, and he brought your hands down towards his mouth. A soft peck to your knuckles, before he nuzzled your hands against his cheek.

"Well… Anywhere with you feels like stargazing. Since the only star I really want to be looking at… is right here."

His words drew out the air from your lungs. Your eyes met—there was a certain shine in his, blue eyes glowing beneath the strings of light hanging above you. Even this alone, the way he looked at you, could have been enough to drown you. You felt the heat rush to your cheeks; such simple words had you floundering in an instant.

"You're so unfair," you murmured.

There was no bite to your words.

"Am I?"

He shifted to dim the fairy lights, and a flick of his hand had his evol playing around with the lighting. Barely a couple of tries were needed for him to secure a spot on the 'wall' of your little safety fort, where shadows danced along the lined sheets. Slowly, he brought his pinky over to draw your hand back to his, and the shadow of a rabbit formed on the wall.

A giggle fell from your lips. "Hey, that looks like Bunbun!"

"That you've gotten three of in a row just last week…"

You nudged him, pulling your hand to make another, smaller rabbit. "Weeelllll, it kind of looks like you, too~"

Sneaking a glance at him showed a little smile spreading on his own features, but you had little time to recognize the brief flash of mischief in his eyes before the rabbit he'd been projecting to the wall swiftly turned into the head of a wolf.

You gasped, drawing your own rabbit away. "Xavier!"

"I thought you were more sensitive to traps."

"But they're cute—!"

"Sometimes… you should expect the unexpected."

You let out a squeal as the 'wolf' began to advance towards your rabbit, and you immediately draw your hand away and buried your face into his chest. "Silly!" Laughing, you made light punches at his arm. "Take your wolfie away from me!"

And it was silly, but something about it made you feel all fuzzy inside. He laughed in return; it was the sound of it that made you stop, pausing to cherish the warmth that spread through you as a result of it.

Yet the more you look at him, the more you realize that the glow within your little blanket fort, pillow fort, castle whatever it was—wasn't quite coming from much of an external source, but from… him. Specks of those same little sprinkles of light scattered around him, and you could have sworn the very outline of his figure felt like it was glowing.

Smiling, you shifted closer to him, fingers moving to thread through his hair. "Xavier…" you chuckled. "What's going on?"

"What… do you mean?"

You reached out to poke his cheek. "Xavier glows when he's happy."

It took a moment.

You watched as his expression shifted ever so slightly, the flash of surprise making itself visible for a moment before settling into a fondness you knew was reserved only for you. You could marvel at it, really. There were many things about Xavier that you've come to know all this time that you've been spending with him, the past couple years of your relationship. Things like the subtle movement of his gaze when he's caught off-guard, or the twitch of his lips when he tries to keep himself from smiling. He was more expressive than people realized—moreso with the little things, and a little less, sometimes, with his words.

"Because I am happy." He leaned in, closer. The tips of your noses touched, and he nuzzled against you gently. "Are you?"

His hand raised, a familiar bunny light bouncing around the both of you as he smiled softly. That bunny, the very same one from that campfire, the very same one where—as far as you could recall—you'd made one of your very first promises with him.

Tell me when you're overwhelmed next time.

Something in you told you this was a similar moment.

It was quiet for a while, your eyes staying locked. Bated breath formed a certain tension in the air that wasn't unbearable, but easily had your heart skipping a beat. If you leaned back down, listened to his heartbeat… you wondered if you would feel the same thing. Yet somehow, in this moment… it felt as if your hearts had never been this close.

It was Xavier who broke the silence.

"I didn't forget, you know."

You didn't pull away, but you blinked. "…Huh?"

"Today. It's Valentine's day… Isn't it?"

"Oh…"

"I didn't forget."

He nodded his head, once. The smile on his face never quite left, even as he assessed the traces of panic on your own.

"I— I did, though… Sorry. I don't have anything, I didn't really—"

"It's okay."

You blinked. Again. You noticed that Xavier had been catching you by surprise a fair amount this day. "Huh?"

"It's okay," he repeated, patiently. "Because the only gift that I want… is already right next to me. And she's the same star as the only star I wish to be looking at."

Once again, it was Xavier who broke the tension.

Before you could react, before you could fluster yourself over his words—

He leaned down, lips touching against yours.

One kiss. "I love you."

Another kiss. "I love you."

A third kiss. "I love you, still."

You were left dizzy at the quick succession of kisses, feather-light, barely there, and you could practically feel the way his lips turned up into a satisfied smile.

"They say three times' the charm… right?"

Cheeky.

And yet, looking back into his eyes pushed the mischief in them aside, and instead what you found in them was— love.

So, so, much love.

More than the three times he's said it today, and more than… whatever Valentine's Day was supposed to be.

Something swelled in your chest.

"Sometimes, I think that, from the far reaches of the night sky… A star has arrived on this planet." You spoke slowly, formulating your words, and then you bumped your nose against his with a smile. "And I also think that star happens to be laying right next to me."

Arms wrapped around his neck, and it was your turn to shower his face in a little flurry of kisses, relishing the soft laughs that fall from his own lips.

"So if I'm the only star you want to look at," you murmured, "then you're the only star I want to spend the rest of my days with. I hope… tonight won't be the last night we get to spend with each other. I want more nights with you. More like this."

And he chuckled.

"No, it won't be the last."

Slowly, his arms trailed to rest on your waist, gently guiding you to settle on top of him. Happily, you pressed your forehead against his. In this moment, you realized that you loved, all too much, to look into his eyes like this.

"…Your eyes look like stars," you laughed quietly.

"Yours hold all of them."

"No, that's wrong, Xavier. It holds one star. That's you."

He smiled.

"…Mn. It won't be the last, not tonight." He said again, brushing your hair from your face. "We've followed the pull of fate to this moment, so I'll make sure to stay by your side. Now, and always. Maybe, this night… holds the hope there is for us to always be together."

taglist : @pixelcafe-network @hunters-association @darlingdummycassandra @daturasflower @thoupenguinman @valyvinny @rafayelsheart @jellyroom2 @chemiru @ywnzn @pepprrmint @angel-jupiter @cordidy @raiyuxa @xai-mery @oharasmommymilkers00 @pikachuzhc @fackeraccount @rafayelsgf @iloveboysinred @spotted-salamander @venussakura @love-and-deepstrays @evilgojo @keioxo @~Air_Heart~ @keymeadoww @strwbrychffoncke @nezuswritingdesk

© solifloris. all rights reserved. do not: steal, copy, repost, reupload, modify, or claim any of my works as your own, regardless of credit given. absolutely do not use my works for AI training and other related purposes.

[the-oblivious-writer]

The Perfect Girl

Jackie Taylor x Implied Fem!Reader

One-Shot

Summary: You and Jackie - your ever so lovely girlfriend - share precious stolen moments away from prying eyes in your very bedroom.

Warning(s): Intimate scenes/implied smut, innuendos, pre-crash/no crash au (up for interpretation), and underage substance use (marijuana)

Notes: How are we doing after ep 4? Yeah. Figured.

The smoke hangs lazy in the afternoon air of your bedroom, curling around the shafts of golden light filtering through half-drawn blinds. Robert Smith's voice floats from your record player—the one your dad gave you for your sixteenth birthday with strict instructions to "treat the vinyl with respect, for God's sake." You'd promised, never imagining that one day you'd be using his precious sound system to provide the soundtrack for making out with Jackie Taylor.

Jackie—varsity soccer captain, homecoming queen nominee, and the girl whose public image couldn't be further from this moment: her perfect hair mussed beyond repair, wearing nothing but your oversized Sonic Youth t-shirt and a pair of lacy underwear that had made your brain short-circuit when you first saw them.

"You're staring again," she murmurs, taking another hit from the joint you'd been passing back and forth. Her eyes are slightly red-rimmed, her smile looser than the one she wears in the school hallways.

"Can you blame me?" You prop yourself up on your elbows, drinking in the sight of her. "Do you have any idea how many people would lose their minds if they could see Jackie Taylor right now?"

She rolls her eyes, but you catch the pleased flush creeping up her neck. "Please. I'm hardly centerfold material."

"You're right," you agree solemnly. "You're much better."

The way she looks at you then—half-exasperated, half-adoring—makes your chest ache with how much you love her. A year and a half of sneaking around, of stolen moments between classes and elaborate excuses to your respective friend groups, and sometimes you still can't believe she's yours.

"Come here," you say, making grabby hands at her.

Jackie raises an eyebrow, taking her time with another drag before passing the joint back to you. "Demanding much?" But she moves toward you anyway, settling onto your lap with the practiced ease of someone who's been there countless times before.

"Pictures of You" starts playing, and Jackie groans, dropping her forehead against yours. "God, not this song. It's so sad."

"It's romantic," you argue, running your hands up her bare thighs, delighting in the goosebumps that rise in their wake.

"It's about loss," she counters. Her fingers toy with the collar of your shirt, brushing against your collarbone in a way that makes it hard to concentrate on the philosophical debate about Cure lyrics.

"It's about love," you insist, leaning forward to press a kiss to the corner of her mouth. "How everything fades but photographs and memories."

Jackie pulls back just enough to study your face, her expression caught between amusement and something deeper. "Since when did you become the romantic one? I thought that was my role."

"Don't worry," you laugh, hands now resting on her hips, thumbs tracing slow circles against the fabric of her borrowed shirt. "Your title as 'most likely to cry during romantic comedies' remains unchallenged."

"That was one time!" she protests, but she's laughing too. "And 'The Princess Bride' is emotional terrorism."

"Whatever you say, captain."

Her eyes narrow playfully. "You know, for someone who's currently enjoying the privileges of having me on their lap, you're being awfully snarky."

"Privileges, huh?" You raise an eyebrow, feeling bold from the weed and the warmth of her against you. "And what privileges might those be?"

Jackie's smile turns wicked, a side of her no one at Wiskayok High ever sees except you. She leans down until her lips brush your ear. "Play your cards right, and you might find out."

A shiver runs through you that has nothing to do with the temperature. "I've always been good at cards."

"Hmm," she hums, unconvinced. "Is that why you lost twenty bucks to Shauna at poker night?"

"That was—" you splutter, indignant. "Shauna cheats! She has that whole quiet, innocent act down to a science."

Jackie laughs, the sound lighter than the carefully modulated one she uses at school. This laugh is just for you—unfiltered, slightly too loud, and utterly perfect.

"My point," she says, "is that you might need to work on your bluffing skills."

"I don't need to bluff with you," you say, suddenly serious despite the pleasant haze of the high. "Never have."

Something in her expression softens, the armor she wears so carefully around everyone else slipping away entirely. These are the moments you treasure most—when Jackie is just Jackie, not the perfect student, not the soccer star, not Jeff's sometimes-girlfriend (a convenient cover you both agreed on, with his reluctant cooperation).

"No," she agrees quietly. "You don't."

You reach up to tuck a strand of hair behind her ear, and she leans into your touch like a cat seeking affection. It still amazes you sometimes, how different she is in these private moments—how the Jackie Taylor who intimidated you during your first soccer practice freshman year transformed into the girl who now melts at your simplest touches.

"Remember when Coach Martinez paired us for drills that first day?" you ask, thinking back to how it all began. "And you told me my footwork was 'almost adequate'?"

Jackie groans, hiding her face in your neck. "Can we please not relive my bitch phase?"

"It was kind of hot, actually," you admit, laughing when she pinches your side in retaliation. "What? It was! All commanding and authoritative."

"You're deranged," she says, but she's smiling against your skin.

"Maybe. But you're the one who cornered me in the equipment shed two weeks later."

"Because you kept looking at me with those eyes!" She sits up, gesturing dramatically. "All... intense and stuff. It was distracting."

"My sincerest apologies for having eyes and using them to look at the prettiest girl on the field."

Jackie rolls her eyes, but you can tell she's pleased. She's always been a sucker for compliments, especially the earnest ones.

"Smooth talker," she accuses, before leaning down to press her lips against yours.

The kiss starts slow, languid with the unhurried confidence of people who know each other's bodies by heart. Your hands find their way under her shirt—your shirt—fingers tracing the dip of her spine, the curve of her ribs. She sighs into your mouth, shifting on your lap in a way that makes you both gasp.

"You know," you murmur against her lips, "we have the house to ourselves for at least three more hours."

Jackie pulls back just enough to look at you, her pupils dilated from more than just the weed. "Is that your subtle way of saying we should move this to a more horizontal position?"

"I was actually thinking we could finish our calculus homework," you deadpan. "You know how I get turned on by derivatives."

She snorts, an undignified sound that she'd be mortified to let slip in front of anyone else. "You're such a nerd."

"Says the girl with a 4.0 GPA."

"That's different," she insists, tracing a finger down your sternum. "I'm academically gifted. You're a genuine weirdo who reads physics books for fun."

"Only sometimes," you defend yourself. "And they have pretty pictures of space."

Jackie shakes her head, a fond smile playing at her lips. "What am I going to do with you?"

"I can think of a few things," you suggest, waggling your eyebrows in an exaggerated way that makes her laugh again.

"Can you now?" she challenges, and then she's leaning in to kiss you again, deeper this time, with an urgency that makes your head spin.

Your hands drift higher under her shirt, thumbs brushing the undersides of her breasts. She makes a soft noise against your mouth that sends heat pooling low in your belly. One of her hands tangles in your hair, the other bracing against your shoulder for leverage as she rocks against you.

When you break apart for air, her lips immediately find your neck, pressing hot, open-mouthed kisses along your pulse point. It's your turn to gasp, head falling back to give her better access.

"Jackie," you breathe, hands now gripping her hips tightly.

She smiles against your skin, clearly pleased with your reaction. "Yes?"

"The record's about to end."

She pulls back, blinking at you in confusion before her brow furrows in annoyance. "Seriously? That's what you're thinking about right now?"

You can't help but laugh at her indignation. "I just thought you might want some more mood music."

"The mood," she says, deliberately shifting on your lap in a way that makes your breath catch, "is doing just fine without Robert Smith's help."

"Fair point," you concede, voice slightly strained. "But you were the one who insisted we needed The Cure specifically for our afternoon delinquency session."

"That was before you started doing that thing with your hands," she counters, leaning in to nip at your bottom lip. "Now I couldn't care less about the soundtrack."

The needle reaches the end of the record, the soft scratching sound barely registering through the haze of desire clouding your brain.

"Besides," Jackie adds, her voice dropping to a whisper as she brings her lips to your ear. "I'd rather listen to the sounds you make when I do this."

Her hands slip beneath your shirt, and suddenly the lack of music is the furthest thing from your mind.

Later, much later, when you're both lying tangled in your sheets, catching your breath, Jackie props herself up on one elbow to look down at you.

"You know," she says, tracing patterns on your bare shoulder, "we won't have to hide next year."

The thought sends a rush of warmth through you that has nothing to do with physical pleasure. College, away from Wiskayok's judgmental eyes and rigid social hierarchies. A place where Jackie won't have to pretend to be someone she's not, where you can walk across campus holding her hand without calculating who might see.

"I can't wait," you say honestly.

Something vulnerable flickers across her face. "You won't get tired of me once I'm not your dirty little secret anymore?"

The question surprises you. Jackie's always so confident, so sure of herself and what she wants. But sometimes, in these quiet moments, you get glimpses of the insecurities she hides from everyone else.

"Are you kidding?" You reach up to cup her cheek. "I've been counting down the days until I can show you off properly."

Her smile is small but genuine, relief softening the tension you hadn't even noticed in her shoulders.

"Besides," you add, unable to resist, "I've invested too much time teaching you good music taste to abandon you now."

She gasps in mock outrage, grabbing a pillow to smack you with it. "Excuse you! I knew who The Cure was before I met you!"

"Name three albums," you challenge, laughing as you try to fend off her pillow attack.

"Disintegration," she says immediately, punctuating it with another swing of the pillow. "Kiss Me, Kiss Me, Kiss Me. And... uh..."

"That's what I thought," you tease, finally capturing the pillow and tossing it aside so you can pull her down for another kiss.

Against your lips, she murmurs, "You're lucky you're cute."

"I'm lucky, period," you respond honestly, and the softness that returns to her eyes makes your heart flip over in your chest.

The Cure may have stopped playing hours ago, but as Jackie settles against you, her head tucked under your chin, you think Robert Smith would approve of this particular love song—the one written in the rhythm of your synchronized heartbeats and the promise of a future where hiding is no longer necessary.

[stayevildarling]

Agatha Harkness x Cordelia Goode x Reader-Undone by desire

A/N: I can‘t stop thinking about these two so here we are🤷🏻‍♀️

tags/tw: soft dom!cordelia, mean dom!agatha, sub!reader, corruption, praise kink, mommy kink, jealous cordelia, virgin reader, cordelia recieving (strap), reader recieving (oral, strap), agatha recieving (oral, strap) enchanted strap, choking

word count: 4.5k

taglist:

@lunaticwhittaker , @billiebeanhoward , @lanawinters-ily , @kenzbro , @minaslittleone , @httpfiftyshadesofgay @whitelotus00 , @ninaahelvar , @paulsonsratched , @vintagepaulson , @isle-of-earle , @grilledcheeseandguavajelly , @lucyintheskywithxanax , @fanfics4world , @mymiraclewitch , @hazard-to-myself , @awritersometimes , @wastdstime , @p1pecleanerwitheyes , @queen2234 , @ihartnat , @lifebyinez , @ahsatanizgay , @blu3dimples

The coven‘s halls had undeniably been more alive since Agatha Harkness arrived. Cordelia, ever the welcoming and open supreme allowed the covenless witch to join, offering her a place at Miss Robichaux‘s as after everything, the brunette just wanted to belong. Agatha accepted with grace but there was something mysterious about her, the way she carried herself and the atmosphere changed whenever she stepped into a room. Despite it being some weeks now, you noticed immediately, Agatha was the kind of woman who didn‘t need to raise her voice to make herself understood, her voice laced with something darker, there always seeming to be a deeper intention behind her words. And you couldn‘t deny that you felt drawn to her.

At first, your interactions had been harmless, a sly comment here, a lingering glance at the dinner table there. You brushed it off for her nature, usually the more quiet one around the academy, only really opening up yourself once you know someone a bit better. It had taken you years to warm up to Cordelia, to allow yourself to laugh around her and allow yourself to slowly fall for her, not able to hide the way she made you blush. But Cordelia had warned you about Agatha, telling you to be careful. „She‘s powerful“ she said one afternoon. „And power often comes with… complication“.

But days turned into weeks and Agatha‘s interest in you deepened, becoming harder and harder to ignore. She was suddenly always near, offering to help you with your magic, whispering low and suggestive things that made your cheeks burn. At first you enjoyed the game, unsure how to play it exactly but letting the witch pull you right under her spell, unaware of her ulterior motives. But as Agatha‘s influence grew, Cordelia noticed the shift in you as you began questioning things about the coven, your powers and mostly about Cordelia. The woman who you had been head over heels for for years, the woman who would make you blush, who was so gentle with her touch and the woman who made the others mumble about her attraction to you but Delia never voiced those, not in the way Agatha so bluntly would.

The supreme wasn‘t blind to what Agatha was doing, how she was slowly drawing you in, seeing how you slowly became alive under attention and it sparked something within the blonde. An overprotectiveness that came as a force, laced by her raging jealousy. You noticed it a while back when the three of you worked in the greenhouse, Agatha leaning closer and lowly murming in your ear „You‘ve got so much potential“ she praised, watching you work effortlessly on your magic. „If only someone helped you truly unlock it“ she whispered, voice dripping with something more than encouragement. And that was enough for Cordelia to snap. „That‘s enough Agatha“ she said sharply, her voice firm but the other witch simply smiled, leaning back as if nothing happend, getting exactly what she wanted out of this exchange.

The following days seemed to change everything, the tension in the academy heavy. Cordelia‘s overprotectiveness reached its peak point as she made sure to keep you safe. Her eyes lingered on you as she made sure not to leave you and Agatha alone, worried what would happen if she did. Meanwhile Agatha continued, knowing exactly what she is doing, she enjoyed winding the supreme up, being able to tell her little plan was working just fine, not only slowly corrupting you to be her perfect little pet but also get the side of Cordelia to show that she has seen since joining, something hidden deep.

„You‘ve been awfully quiet“ Agatha purred the other day, as you passed her in the hallway. Her hand brushed against your arm, halting your movements. „What‘s on that pretty little mind of yours?“ she asked, causing your cheeks to burn. Before you could answer though, Cordelia appeared out of nowhere, stepping between you two. Her expression was calm but her voice filled with something you had never seen in your supreme before. „Agatha don’t you have somewhere else to be?“ she questioned calmly.

Agatha smirked, unbothered by Cordelia‘s interruption. „Funny, I could ask you the same thing Ms Supreme“ her eyes flickered to you for a moment before she carried on „Or do you always hover so closely over your students?“. Cordelia stiffened, her compusure beginning to crack „I don‘t hover, I protect what‘s mine“ she snapped. „Yours?“ Agatha laughs, she leans closer to Cordelia, their faces inches apart and for a second you thought they may kiss under the tension of it all. „Funny, I didn‘t think posession extended to matters of the heart“ Agatha whispered. The tension between them felt suffocating snd despite their words seeming like they may want to kill each other, their body languages betrayed them both, the mutual attraction undeniable.

Her words lingered on your mind „I protect what‘s mine“ she said and you couldn‘t sleep that night, couldn‘t focus for the next few days, not understanding where this had came from. Cordelia had always been kind to you, maybe even putting you above other students but she had never made a step, not in all those years, despite the obvious signs of your mutual feelings for each other, despite the whispers of the other students, despite the deep conversations in the greenhouse at 3am, despite the times she looked at you like she wanted you but stopped herself just in time.

A day later you opted to retreat to the library, the tension in the academy almost suffocating you as you seek refuge. But not even the pages of the book you are reading can distract you from what has been going on. You couldn‘t stop thinking about Agatha‘s touch on your skin, the way it made you feel on fire, letting thoughts cross your mind that hadn‘t crossed your mind before. But then there was Cordelia, her words, her protectivenesse and the undeniable feelings you have had for her from the beginning.

You are startled when the sound of the library door pulls your attention from the book, Cordelia steps inside, her gaze locking onto you. She seems much less composed than usual, almost if she is holding something back. „I thought I might find you here“ she says softly, crossing the room to where you are sitting. „Delia“ you almost whisper as you set your book down. She pauses, looking into your eyes „Sweetie I need to talk to you“ she begins but before she can carry on, Agatha steps inside, wearing a purple suit that draws your eyes onto her, the rings, the way she carries herself captivated you. „Well isn‘t this cozy“ she says, her voice dripping with amusement as she steps closer. „I was hoping to find you alone dear but seems Ms Supreme beat me to it“ she chuckes, so unfazed at the way she just waltzed in and interrupted you both.

Cordelia turns „Agatha“ she says almost sharply „This isn‘t the time“ she warns, her voice filled with authority, which causes your eyes to land on her. But Agatha doesn‘t care, her attention entirely on you „You know, I‘m beginning to wonder whether Cordelia is as concerned about your wellbeing as she claims.. or if this is something“ she pauses, stepping closer „Deeper“. Her movements are slow and deliberate „Tell me darling, do you feel protected hm? or do you feel trapped?“ she asks, causing your heart to race.

„That‘s enough“ Cordelia snaps, stepping in between you both. Her calm composure is unraveling again and you are surprised, no one ever having pushed her buttons just like Agatha had. „I won‘t let you manipulate her“ the supreme warns. „‚Manipulate?“ Agatha repeats, amusement evident in her voice. „Darling, I don‘t need to manipulate, she is already curious, aren‘t you sweetheart?“ she purrs, looking right at you. „You have felt it haven‘t you? that pull? you‘re drawn to me just as much as she is to you“ the brunette claims which causes your heart to stop as your hands begin shaking.

„Leave her alone“ Cordelia demands, her voice shaking now with rage, she moves closer to Agatha, their faces inches apart. The tension between them was undeniable, air thick but there was something else as Agatha tilts her head, her smirk disappearing as she steps closer. And there it was again, their faces inches apart, their words not matching the ways their bodies spoke. „You‘re so quick to defend her“ she murmurs „But tell me Cordelia- are you really protecting her from me? or are you afraid she might choose me if you let her decide?“ the brunette questions. Cordelia glances at you and you see her faltering for a brief moment, her jaw tight.

This wasn‘t jealousy anymore, you could see the way Agatha almost leaned in as to test the supreme‘s boundaries and the supreme almost faltering. „She‘s not a game Agatha“ Cordelia warns, voice barely above a whisper. „Neither are you“ Agatha speaks softly, her smirk replaced by a sincerity that takes your breath away. It seems like the tension between them fleeds but Cordelia stiffens again before speaking. „Go to your room Y/N“ she demands, eyes darting to you. „Now“ she instructs her voice firm.

„Delia“ you tried but she cut you off with that look. And so you listened, leaving them, glancing at them one more time, hearing Agatha chuckling „So obedient“ before you leave, knees weak and breath trembling as you make it to your room, feeling like you are caught in a game that you didn‘t fully understand. The way they stood so close drove you crazy, a part of you yearned for the thought of them kissing but another part of you felt confused, Agatha‘s intensions almost clear but Cordelia‘s so confusing.

Something changed that night. You felt it when you stepped into the kitchen the next morning, hoping to find some coffee as you had been awake the entire night, unable to stop thinking about either of the older women. Agatha stepped inside, something softer about her demeanor as she greeted you „Hi darling“ she said before Cordelia joined, the supreme‘s demeanor seeming less protective, more composed and calm even with Agatha beaide you. „Good norning“ she greeted you, helping you to some coffee as your eyes darted between them. „How are you feeling darling?“ Cordelia asked gently, which caused you to shrug and mumble a quick „I‘m fine“ before you wrapped your hands around the coffee mug. „You seem distracted sweetheart, something on your mind?“ Agatha asked.

You glanced at Cordelia who remained silent, waiting for your answer but you stayed quiet. „She seems a little overwhelmed don‘t you think?“ Agatha asked which caused Cordelia to nod. „We‘re here for you sweetie“ she encouraged. „You don‘t have to be afraid“ she whispered as her hands brushed over your shoulder gently. „We aren‘t going anywhere“ she reassured before Agatha joined in again „We just want you to know you are wanted“ she exclaimed, the statement almost taking your breath away. And then you realized that whatever happened between them that night changed everything, they weren‘t fighting over you anymore, they were working together.

The following days went by in a haze, you barely managed to function under their gazes, Cordelia‘s lingering protetective presence, Agatha‘s hands on you and the way she was teasing you. It took everything within you not to give in to them, trying to think of a way to balance this but the more the days passed, it left you lonely in the nights, aching for their touch and presence. And tonight something within you snapped, the way they hovered around you by the dinner table, the way their eyes spoke lengths, their voices dripping with desire.

By the time the night came around you found yourself restless, abandoning the idea of sleep before wandering the hallways. And somehow you found yourself by Cordelia‘s office, the door slightly ajar, almost inviting you inside. Your hands trembled as you finally bring yourself to knock and the door opens immediately, exposing both Agatha and Cordelia, sitting opposite each other, murming words that you couldn‘t make out. You could see Delia leaning forward, her blonde hair falling over her shoulder‘s, Agatha‘s dark eyes glistening.

The brunette‘s gaze catches yours and her smirk widens „Well well“ she murmurs „Look who couldn‘t stay away“ she grins, leaning back into her chair. Cordelia turns, her soft eyes finding yours „What are you doing up sweetheart?“ she asks gently, though there was something knowing in her tone. „It‘s late“ she says which causes you to falter. „I..“ you stammer, feeling your cheeks burning under both of their gazes. The words get caught in your throat, the intensity of even being in the same room with them impossible.

Agatha stands slowly, her movements calculated as she approaches you. Your eyes immediately travel to her dark purple blazer, her white button upped shirt and her jewrely. „She looks like she has something on her mind“ she murmurs as she glances back at the supreme. She stops just a step away from you, her presence causing you to shiver „What is it darling? you can tell us“ she encourages and then Cordelia rises too, her approach much gentler than Agatha but no less commanding. Her hand brushes your arm, softly grounding you but her touch makes your breathing hitch nevertheless.

„You don‘t have to keep it in sweetie“ she says softly, her eyes searching yours. „We know“ she breathes, causing your heart to pound in your chest. They both stand so close now, Delia equally in an outfit that has been driving you crazy for years. They both seem to pull you in like a magnet, Agatha‘s dark knowing smirk and Cordelia‘s gentle gaze exactly what you have been yearning for.

And then you couldn‘t hide it anymore „I“ you begin, voice breaking as you hide your trembling hands „I want you. Both of you“ you whisper, barely audible but enough for both witches to hear. Agatha‘s smirk only deepends, her eyes glistening while Cordelia simply parts her lips in a soft gasp, cheeks flushing at your confession. „Well“ Agatha murmurs „Finally“ voice filled with satisfaction. The supreme‘s hand on you tightens a little, her eyes flickering to Agatha before returning to you. „Are you sure darling?“ she asks, her voice barwly above a whisper. You could tell she was in control, just the way Agatha was but there was something deeper behind her eyes, almost sparkling with love, wanting to make sure this was truly what you wanted.

All you can do is nod, unable to form words, your entire body trembling. Agatha takes the initative, her head tilting as she moves impossibly closer „You have no idea how long we have been waiting for this“ she says softly „For you to finally admit it“. And then she leans in, capturing your lips in a kiss that ignites a fire within you, one that has been fueled by their actions for weeks, one that takes your breath away as you cling to the woman, holding onto her for dear life as her mouth explores yours, thinking if you stopped holding on, you might pass out under the intensity of it all.

Agatha pulls away, moving to the side to give Cordelia the room, the supreme steps closer, her hand resting on your cheek as she speaks. „We‘ll take care of you“ she promises, her voice trembling with sincerity. „If you let us“ you nod weakly, causing the supreme to smile softly before stepping forward, hovering for a moment before she leans in. And her kiss is much softer, no less demanding or assuring who’s in control here but it was filled with something almost sweet, the desire to please you, to make sure you are okay and make you feel good and the kiss settles in your heart as this had been on your mind for years.

The brunette creeps up behind you as you both pull away after a while, your eyes locking with the supreme‘s for a moment. „Follow me dear“ she instructs and you do, letting the older woman lead you out of the room and into her bedroom, the supreme following as they lead you into the woman‘s sanctuary. You hadn‘t seen Agatha‘s room yet, much darker than the usual light academy, the place filled with candles, the atmosphere mysterious as she leads you to bed. She makes you sit there before she turns to the supreme, capturing her lips in a kiss that takes your breath away. You watch their mouth, the way they both fight for entrance, the way Agatha stands tall and the way Cordelia doesn‘t falter. The scene causes your breathing to hitch as you press your thighs together, the arousal already staining your underwear at this point.

They both turn to you with knowing glances, seeing your chest heave and hearing your breathing hitching. „Would you like to do the honours of undressing her Ms Supreme?“ Agatha teases which causes Cordelia to nod softly as she makes her way over. „Is that what you want sweet girl?“ she asks as she bites her lip and all you can do is nod, words having left you long ago by now. Her movements are gentle, painfully slow as she begins kissing down your neck, leaving gentle bruises that would become reminders of this night soon. She begins by taking your shirt off, deliberately slow as she exposes your red lingerie, causing her to smirk ever so slightly. When you watch her go on her knees, you think you might explode, watching as she begins taking off your socks, your trousers and leaving you in nothing but the red set you had chosen for tonight, a part of you knowing where this would lead.

„Lay down there darling“ she instructs, her voice filled with authority and desire as she makes you lay in the middle of the bed, Agatha‘s eyes darkening as she watches the scene unfold. Cordelia begins hovering above you, crawling on top of you as she begins kissing you, her tongue immediately entering your mouth as she begins exploring you in a way she had been meaning to forever. Agatha is quick to abandon her own clothing, leaving her in nothing but a purple bralette which causes your eyes to drift. The brunette goes on her knees as she hovers behind Cordelia, making sure to undress the supreme too. You notice her struggling with Cordelia‘s shirt and so you glance at the supreme, silently asking for permission as your fingers ghost over the buttons of her shirt. She nods and you help Agatha with ease to undress her. „Such a good attentive darling“ the brunette purrs which causes you to moan into Cordelia‘s mouth.

„What do you think we should do with her first?“ Agatha purrs as her hand travels over Cordelia‘s torso, reaching her neck as she grabs her and reaches for another hungry kiss. „Should we make her watch? fall apart while we make her wait?“ the brunette smirks. The supreme‘s eyes fall upon you, considering their options. „But she‘s been so patient already“ the blonde counters which causes Agatha to fake pout. „Have you little one? do you not wanna wait any longer?“ she mocks which causes you to shake your head desperately. „Well then I‘ll let you do the honors Ms Supreme“ she smiles which causes your heart to race. The blonde begins gently caressing your skin, her mouth exploring you as Agatha‘s hands cup your breasts. The supreme‘s breath hitches, seeing parts of you that she never had before, the tattoo covering your collarbone.

Her touch is featherlight until she reaches your center, chest heaving by now. She glances at you with so much care in the world, despite the hunger evident in her eyes. „May I?“ she asks as her fingers begin playing with the wasitband of your red panties and you nod eagerly before Agatha interupts „Words darling“ she corrects you and you force yourself to speak „Yes please“ you pant which causes her to grin. „Good girl“ the supreme praises which sends a shiver through you as her tongue begins exploring you. At first, she begins kissing the inside of your thighs, her eyes leaving yours as Agatha begins pleasuring the supreme from behind. By the time her tongue licks through your folds, collecting your sweet juices a gutteral moan escapes you. „Delia“ you whine, wiggling as you need to feel more.

It takes you a good minute to realize that Agatha is wearing a strap by now, holding onto Cordelia as she pounds into her from behind, all while the blonde dips her tongue inside you. A gutteral moan escapes you again as she brings you so close but she stops herself, letting Agatha devour her, sending pleasure through her body as she grips onto the sheets beside you. You watch in awe, body trembling as Agatha makes the supreme feel good, moans and curse words falling from the blonde‘s lips all at once. At some point, you feel like you can‘t take it anymore, letting your hand travel down to your clit to get at least some friction, watching the supreme orgasm on Agatha‘s strap.

„Nuh uh“ Agatha stops you, placing your hand away from your clit as you whine. „Do you want mommy to make you feel good too?“ she asks, her voice filled with sweetness as she hovers above you. „Yes please mo-mommy“ you moan, watching as Cordelia comes down from her high. Agatha wastes no time in alligning herself but the blonde stops her „Have you ever done this sweetie?“ the supreme asks as she locks eyes with you and you shake your head. She glances at Agatha who gives her a knowing look „Don‘t worry Ms Supreme, I‘ll be gentle with your precious girl“ she teases which causes the supreme to roll her eyes. „If it‘s too much or you want me to stop, you tell me okay? But I have a feeling you‘ll enjoy this sweet girl“ Agatha coos and you nod, not caring about any of this as the desperation gets the better of you.

The brunette remains on her knees, purple strap tugged against her hips as she slowly begins teasing you with the tip, pushing it in slowly to let you adjust. Your eyes force close at the strange sensation, whincing ever so slightly before something bursts and your eyes fly open. „More please“ you whisper, causing Agatha to smirk, having known there was this side of you as Cordelia‘s eyebrows raise in surprise. She sinks in completely, making you take her entire length as she begins filling you up, her hips thrusting into you slowly first but then fast, keeping up a steady pace of edging you, wanting nothing more than to make you a screaming, begging mess for them. You had never felt this way before, the attention of two beautiful and attractive women on you like that, their hands roaming your body, Agatha fucking into you so perfectly sending you into a bliss, barely able to function anymore, let alone breathe.

„Fuck“ you curse and even Cordelia barely manages to keep herself together, watching your tits bounce, back arching and mouth hanging open. Her hand finds yours and your grip on her tightens, feeling the pleasure rush through you. „You are such a perfect little slut, taking us so well“ Agatha purrs her hand finding your neck, neither of you aware that she had enchanted the strap and could feel every single thing herself. Your eyes find Cordelia‘s again, so overwhelmed by the intsity of this and feeling the coil in your stomach about to burst. „You‘re doing so well sweetie“ she praises, causing your cheeks to burn red again at her words. Agatha can feel how close you are, deliberately pulling out of you which causes you to whine „Taste yourself on mommys cock sweet girl“ she orders and you don‘t waste any time as she brings it to your mouth, wanting nothing more than to be good for her.

You take her into your mouth, trying not to gag but the size mixed with the fact you hadn‘t done this before cause tears to form in your eyes. Agatha‘s own pleasure takes over as she begins fucking your mouth, Cordelia watching in awe as she never once took you to be nearly this filfthy. After another while Agatha pulls out, wasting no time before she slams her cock into you again, leaving you breathless. „Please mommy“ you whine „I‘ve been good, I wanna be good. I - fuck please I wanna cum“ you almost scream, causing Agatha‘s smirk to widen as she takes your left leg, putting it against her shoulder as she begins fucking into you at another angle. Cordelia watches in awe seeing you fall apart like this, her fingers finding your mouth as you begin sucking. „Cum for me pretty pet“ Agatha whispers which makes you fall apart.

Your back arches as you clench around her cock, feeling your own cum mix with her own, making sure you ride out your high as your eyes are forced shut, chest heaving as stars form in your vision, causing you to close your eyes. Screams, moans and names fall from your lips all at once before Agatha eventually pulls out with a satisfied smirk. Cordelia lays beside you, gently stroking your cheeks before whispering „Breathe sweetie“ and her voice guides you away from the bliss and into reality as she guides you to find your breathing again. By the time your eyes open, you find both women look at you with both a proud and hungry expression, you having been so perfect for them. „You did so good baby“ Cordelia coos as she gently wipes your tears before Agatha pulls you in for another kiss „The perfect obedient little angel“.

There was something in the air after you finished, both women still eager and so were you but they could tell you needed a break, especially after your first time with them. Cordelia was gentle in how she touched you, cleaned you up and encouraged you to drink. Agatha‘s eyes never left yours as she lays beside you, admiring the view and the pretty marks she left on you. „Did you enjoy that?“ she asks after a while of the three of you laying in silence. You nod, feeling their eyes on you as a little smile creeps onto your features. Cordelia‘s eyebrows furrow, seeing something clearly on your mind. „When can we do it again?“ you whisper causing Agatha to chuckle lowly and Cordelia to gasp at your boldness. „Well I definitely underestimated you“ she jokes before pressing a kiss to your lips and if one thing was for sure, this night would be very long after all.

[ravstars]

Let’s nap ☆⌒(ゝ。∂)

⌇Wanderer/ Scaramouche x Reader.ᐟ

જ⁀➴Fluff: You and Scara take a nap together! Modern AU

a/n: Omfg I was supposed to post Childe smut yesterday but I overthought it too much and got very nerv to post it so I‘ve decided to let it marinate a little more in my drafts until I don’t feel too embarrassed to post it lmao, forgive me! In the meantime, please enjoy some tooth rotting fluff hehe ^-^ This is super short but I’ll make it up to you guys, promise!!

With the months seeming to pass by in a much faster manner than usual, the sun shining through the big windows blinds you with it’s vigorous rays of sunlight. So warm and comfortable that it seems understandable to everyone to take afternoon naps and laze around, even to your sweet lover.

“Scara…” you hug and wrap your arms around his waist from behind as he seemed busy to be preparing some late noon snacks in the kitchen. It had only been a few months since you and Scara had moved in together, yet the domestic feel of just waking up together, spending the day together, cooking together and sleeping together never seemed to stop making your heart beat in a ridiculously fast rhythm every time. It was heaven on earth, in a way.

You get pulled out of your thoughts soon enough, though, as Scaramouche, who had by now finished preparing your snack, turned around to face you.

“What is it?” He feigns annoyance and crosses his arms over his chest, his brows furrowed lightly.

“Gee, lighten up, will ya’?” Your thumb reaches out to smooth over the crease between his brows, as he bites back a visible smile.

“Here, your damn carrots.” He rolls his eyes and hands you a plate with carefully peeled and cut carrot sticks. You in turn take one from the plate and munch on a carrot

“Let’s nap… I’m so sleepy.” You lay your head on his chest, nuzzling, earning a tut from him

“You seem rather energetic to me.”

“C’mon, please…” You give him your best puppy eyes and hope he can’t resist, which earns you a soft smack on the head

“Ow…” before you can even say something else, though, he pulls you by your hand, now in a much gentler manner, towards the couch you had picked out together.

“No funny business,” he ensures, “you wanted to nap, so we’re gonna nap, alright?” You take what you can get and nod, sitting down on the couch before he pushes you down to lay on your back. Afterwards, he lays down next to you, turning to his side and pulling the blanket on the armrest over you two, especially over you. His voice, now softer, rings in your ears

“Tell me if you need anything else. If you’re cold or—“

“— just… cuddles.” Your eyes are already drawn shut and your body has been captured in slender arms. Your wish is his command, after all, may he admit or not. You respond by nuzzling into the crook of his neck, pushing yourself closer and closer until there’s no space left between you.

It’s not toilsome to get sleepy in his arms, proven by your already fading conscience before you feel a light kiss pressed onto the crown of your head

“I love you, Idiot.”

Indeed he does.

[ms-snape]

Hi could you please write an imagine in which snaps and reader are together, reader grew up in a muggle house, didn’t go to a wizarding school therefore doesn’t know a whole lot about magic. Somehow they find out the other has powers and Snape takes it upon himself to teach her everything.

Title: Magic?

Warning: None

Words Count: 2000+

Masterlist

___

Severus Snape was a man who kept his life meticulously ordered—every detail tightly controlled, every secret well-guarded. His flat in Spinner’s End reflected that precision: shelves lined with books on obscure topics, an assortment of jars containing rare herbs and powders, and not a single item out of place. For years, his life had been predictable, secluded, and exactly as he preferred it.

Until Y/N.

She had appeared one rainy autumn afternoon, moving into the house near his with a clatter of boxes and the faint sound of her laughter through the place. He’d paid her no mind at first, assuming she was just another ordinary muggle passing through the neighborhood. But Y/N had a way of quietly insinuating herself into his life, her warmth and curiosity chipping away at the walls he had spent years constructing.

It started with small conversations, then turned into shared cups of tea on dreary afternoons. Severus found himself drawn to her despite his better judgment, captivated by her wit and her ability to see through his sharp exterior without fear. Before long, her presence became a comfort he didn’t know he needed.

But Severus Snape was no ordinary man, and secrets like his had a way of complicating even the simplest of relationships.

The first time Severus noticed something unusual about Y/N, it was during one of their many tea sessions. She had been recounting a frustrating encounter with a nosy coworker, her voice tinged with exasperation, when the sugar bowl on the table suddenly slid toward her without anyone touching it.

Severus froze, his sharp black eyes narrowing as he watched the bowl settle.

Y/N, however, seemed entirely unaware. She simply reached for the sugar and continued talking as if nothing had happened.

The incident lingered in Severus’s mind for days. It wasn’t an isolated occurrence. As their relationship deepened, he began to notice more of these oddities.

One evening, while she was cooking dinner, she muttered under her breath about needing a spoon. A drawer across the room creaked open, and a wooden spoon floated out, landing neatly on the counter. She had stared at it in confusion for a moment before shaking her head and muttering something about exhaustion.

Then there was the time they had gotten into a mild argument. The moment her voice rose, the lights flickered ominously, and a glass on the counter shattered. Y/N had apologized profusely, blaming her clumsiness, but Severus couldn’t ignore the growing evidence.

She was no ordinary muggle.

He debated telling her for weeks, but every time he tried, the words caught in his throat. How could he explain magic to someone who had lived her entire life unaware of its existence? More importantly, how could he tell her that she might possess magic of her own?

As he hesitated, Y/N’s curiosity began to grow. She wasn’t blind to his odd behaviors—the way he seemed to know things he shouldn’t, the strange ingredients she occasionally glimpsed in his kitchen, or the books with titles written in languages she couldn’t understand.

It all came to a head one fateful evening.

Severus had been in his study, absorbed in a particularly complex potion, when Y/N’s voice broke through his concentration.

“Severus, can I ask you something?”

He looked up, his expression unreadable. “What is it?”

She stepped into the room, holding a thick, leather-bound book in her hands. His heart sank as he recognized it immediately.

“Where did you get that?” he asked sharply.

“It was on the shelf,” she replied, her brow furrowed. “I was looking for something to read, and this caught my eye. But… Severus, what is this? It’s not just a book, is it?”

He rose from his chair, his movements slow and deliberate. “Y/N,” he began, his voice measured, “that is not something you should have been reading.”

“Why not?” she pressed. “It’s not like I can understand half of it. But the parts I do understand…” She flipped the book open, pointing to a page filled with detailed instructions for a potion. “This talks about powdered unicorn horn and asphodel. These aren’t… normal things, are they?”

Severus stared at her, his mind racing. There was no more hiding it.

“No,” he said finally. “They are not.”

She waited, her expression a mixture of confusion and determination. “Then explain it to me. Please.”

And so he did.

Severus spent the next hour explaining everything—the wizarding world, Hogwarts, and his own role as a potions master. He spoke of magic and its many forms, carefully observing her reaction as he revealed the truth he had kept hidden for so long.

Y/N listened in stunned silence, her hands clasped tightly in her lap. When he finished, she exhaled a shaky breath.

“So… you’re a wizard,” she said, her voice barely above a whisper.

“Yes,” he confirmed.

“And you’ve been hiding this from me the entire time we’ve known each other?”

“I was protecting you,” he said, his tone defensive. “The less you knew, the safer you were.”

She frowned, her gaze piercing. “Safe from what?”

“From the dangers of my world,” he replied. “Magic is not always a gift. It can be a burden—a dangerous one.”

Y/N shook her head, her expression softening. “Severus, I understand why you wanted to protect me. But don’t you think I deserve to know the truth? Especially if…” She hesitated, her voice faltering.

“If what?” he prompted.

“If I’m part of it too,” she said quietly.

Severus’s eyes narrowed. “What are you saying?”

She looked down at her hands, twisting them nervously. “I’ve always had… strange things happen around me. Things I couldn’t explain. I thought I was just unlucky or clumsy, but… after what you’ve told me, I don’t know anymore.”

He studied her carefully, his mind racing. He had suspected as much, but hearing her say it aloud confirmed what he had been reluctant to admit.

“Y/N,” he said slowly, “it is possible that you are not a muggle.”

Her eyes widened. “What does that mean?”

“It means,” he continued, “that you may be a witch.”

___

The morning light filtered softly through the windows of Severus’s flat, illuminating the scattered remnants of the night before: a few spell books left open on the table, a candle burned low in its holder, and a single white feather resting in the middle of the room. Y/N sat cross-legged on the floor, her brow furrowed in concentration as she waved a borrowed wand at the feather.

“Wingardium Leviosa,” she muttered, her tone deliberate.

The feather trembled slightly but refused to lift. Instead, it skidded a few inches across the wooden floor.

“Again,” Severus instructed from his chair, his tone calm but firm.

Y/N sighed, gripping the wand tighter. “I’ve said it at least twenty times. Why isn’t it working?”

“Because,” he replied, “you’re trying to force it. Magic requires control, yes, but also intention. You cannot simply will it into being. You must feel it, allow it to flow.”

She groaned, letting her head drop forward in frustration. “This is harder than it looks.”

Severus set down the book he’d been thumbing through and moved to sit beside her on the floor. His presence was steadying, his dark eyes watching her with an intensity that made her heart race.

“Y/N,” he said softly, his voice losing some of its usual edge, “no one masters magic overnight. Even the most talented witches and wizards stumble when they first begin.”

“But I can’t even levitate a feather,” she muttered, her tone tinged with disappointment.

“Progress is not measured by perfection,” he said, reaching out to gently tilt her chin so she was looking at him. “Every spell, no matter how small, is a step forward.”

She gave him a small, tentative smile, and he allowed himself a rare moment of softness, brushing a strand of hair from her face.

“Come,” he said, standing and offering her his hand. “Let’s try again.”

For the next hour, Y/N practiced under Severus’s watchful eye. Each attempt was met with either a subtle correction or a murmured word of encouragement. When she managed to lift the feather a few inches off the ground, she let out a triumphant laugh, her excitement lighting up the room.

“I did it!” she exclaimed, turning to Severus.

He allowed himself a small, approving smile. “Indeed, you did.”

Unable to contain her excitement, she threw her arms around him, nearly knocking him off balance. He stiffened for a moment before relaxing, his hands resting awkwardly on her back.

“You’re a surprisingly affectionate student,” he remarked dryly, though the faintest hint of amusement flickered in his eyes.

“And you’re a surprisingly patient teacher,” she shot back, grinning.

He shook his head, muttering something about “foolishness,” but the corners of his mouth betrayed him, curving ever so slightly upward.

As the days turned into weeks, their lessons became a regular routine. Severus taught her simple spells first—lumos to light her wand, accio to summon objects, and even reparo to fix the various things she accidentally broke during her practice.

But not every lesson was smooth.

One rainy afternoon, Y/N was attempting to cast a cleaning charm on a spill she’d made. Instead of vanishing, the liquid exploded outward, splattering both her and Severus with tea.

She gasped, horrified. “Oh no! I’m so sorry, Severus!”

He stood there, dripping tea, his expression unreadable. For a moment, she thought he might be angry, but then he let out a deep sigh and flicked his wand, vanishing the mess in an instant.

“Perhaps,” he said, his tone dry, “we’ll revisit cleaning charms another day.”

Y/N couldn’t help but laugh, and to her surprise, Severus’s lips twitched in response.

Despite her occasional missteps, Y/N’s progress was undeniable. With each successful spell, her confidence grew, and Severus found himself strangely proud of her determination.

One evening, as they practiced in the dim light of his study, Y/N managed to conjure a small stream of water from her wand. She let out a delighted laugh, her eyes sparkling as she turned to him.

“Did you see that?” she asked, beaming.

“I saw,” he replied, his voice quiet.

Her joy was infectious, and before she could stop herself, she leaned in and kissed him. It was a fleeting kiss, soft and full of gratitude, but it lingered between them like an unspoken promise.

When she pulled back, she looked at him nervously. “Was that okay?”

Severus’s dark eyes searched hers, and for a moment, she thought he might retreat behind his usual stoicism. But then he reached out, his hand cupping her cheek as he kissed her back—slowly, deliberately, as though he were committing the moment to memory.

When they finally parted, he rested his forehead against hers, his voice barely above a whisper. “You’re remarkable, Y/N.”

Her heart swelled, and she smiled, brushing a strand of dark hair from his face. “So are you, Severus.”

The weeks passed in a blur of lessons, laughter, and quiet moments shared between spells. Y/N still struggled at times—her wand sometimes sparked unpredictably, and her frustration would boil over when a spell refused to cooperate. But Severus was always there, steady and patient, guiding her with a firm but gentle hand.

One evening, as they sat together by the fire, Y/N leaned against him, her head resting on his shoulder.

“Do you think I’ll ever be good at this?” she asked softly.

Severus placed a hand over hers, his touch warm and reassuring. “You already are.”

She looked up at him, her eyes searching his. “You really believe that?”

“I do,” he said simply.

Y/N smiled, her doubts melting away under his steady gaze. For all his gruffness and guarded nature, Severus had a way of making her feel seen—truly seen.

And as she drifted off to sleep in his arms, she realized that magic, for all its wonder and mystery, was nothing compared to the love they had found in each other.

[raven-at-the-writing-desk]

Ace Trappola: Trouble, that Trappola

Wow, different pjs??? I wonder if each student will truly have unique sleepwear or if it’ll be like “everyone in the same dorm has similar sleepwear, just recolored and with a different motif”. I’ve been laughing about how Ace is dressed and posed, it’s very… Justin Bieber-coded. His bedhead though, it reminds me of Sylvain from FE3H.

Fun fact, I have an irl friend that has the same birthday as Ace... Therefore, I am legally obligated to celebrate it with them/j This year, we're going to an Alice in Wonderland-themed afternoon tea, which I think is very appropriate for Ace! Aaaaaah, My Alice in Wonderland-loving heart can’t take it 😭

Rise and Shine!

He was having a pleasant dream.

There was a path, and the longer he walked on that path, the more the scenery morphed into nonsense.

First was a forest full of twisting turns, colorful signs that pointed this way and that. There was mewing coming from the trees overhead, but every time he looked, he’d find no one there.

Next was a field of progressively bigger and bigger plants. The flowers had faces set in them, and they taunted Ace as he passed. He had plucked the underside of a mushroom cap and chomped down on it. A mistake—Ace had an out-of-body experience, ballooning to the size of a giant and then back to his regular size.

Then he washed away in a sea of tea, spilling from a gigantic glass bottle labelled Drink Me. He swam with the sugar cubes drifting in the fragrant rapids. He caught a current of milk and rode it past trees of chocolate. A dollop of grape jam had dropped down from a branch and landed on his nose.

When Ace, at last, fished himself out of the tea, he was left sticky, skin caked in sugar. As he made to wring his clothes of Darjeeling, he spotted an iced cookie by his feet. Eat Me, it said. There was a trail of them, confections dotting the road ahead in a neat trail. He had followed it—followed until the cookies became crumbs and he was left wandering in a white void, a blank canvas.

Wandering… wandering… where?

Just as that question cropped up like an unwanted weed in an otherwise flawless lawn, a soft sound tickled his ear.

Someone was calling his name.

Who is it…?

He picked up his pace. A casual stroll to a speed walk, then a speed walk into a jog, a job into a run, then a run into a full-on sprint.

"I'm coming! I'm coming already, darn it!!" Ace shouted into the blinding white. "I'm coming, so...!!"

Wait for me. I'll meet you there.

I'll definitely, definitely...!!

His eyes snapped open.

He was lying on his back, wrapped up in his comforter and staring up at the ceiling of his bedroom. Ace blinked several times, slowly adjusting to the sunlight that was spilling in through drawn curtains. A groan escaped him--it was too early for this.

“Mmm… What time is it?” He rolled over in a groggy daze, reaching for his phone. It was still connected to a charger, but it snapped right out of its socket when Ace jolted up. "WHAT?!"

The time, it couldn't be correct. But the line of text messages in his history confirmed the building dread in his stomach.

Gm, Ace! I'll be over soon. Cya then.

I'm here!

Hey, are you up? It's 10 minutes past.

Did you stay up late talking to your bro and sleep through your alarm again?

Hellooooo?

I'm gonna leave without you if you don't come out in 5 minutes.

"Crap, I'm running late!!"

Ace leapt out of bed and flew across his room. The comics and magazines littering his mattress scattered to the floor, but he didn't stop to pick them up.

He moved like lightning, hurriedly dressing and rushing into the communal washroom. While he brushed his teeth with one hand (lest he face the wrath of his vice dorm leader), he teased out his hair with the other. After splashing his face with water (who was going to clock him, Vil?), Ace scribbled on his signature heart, grabbed his backpack, and slipped into his sneakers.

He had his technique down pat thanks to years of practice.

Ace bolted down the hall, stuffing a protein bar into his mouth as he cleared the door. The day greeted him--and so did you, glancing up from your own phone.

"There you are! You kept me waiting, wise guy," you lectured him. It wasn't anything serious--not like his dorm leader's lengthy tirades--just paling around.

"Excuse you," Ace huffed, running a hand through his hair, "I'm fashionably late. There's a difference."

You laughed. Typical of him to always have a snappy comeback prepared.

"Well, c'mon then, fashionably late loser," you urged, playfully nudging his arm, "or we'll both be tardy."

"We'll be late, but at least we'll be late together," he grumbled, nudging you back. "That's fine by me. Wouldn't be the worst thing in the world to be stuck in a room with ya for the afternoon."

"That's a weird way of describing detention with Crewel-sensei."

"What can I say? I'm a poet," he shrugged, letting his sarcasm drip like thick nectar. "Besides, I can't leave you hangin'."

"No?" Your eyebrows hitched. "Funny, cuz I clearly remember you ditching me for cleaning duty on the first day of classes. I almost thought you had left for class without me today too."

"Oi, that was then and this is now! Come on, do you really think I'd do that to you? Me? Really?"

"Absolutely," you said without missing a beat.

"Pfft. You're so wrong about that." He rolled his eyes. "If you were really that worried that I'd gone without you, you could've poked your head in to check on me."

You frowned. "That'd mean I'd have to go into your room."

"So? I've been over at your place and in your room before. What's the big deal? You'd just be returning the favor."

He leaned in, so close that your noses almost touched. Your heart stood still. The corners of Ace's mouth lifted into a smirk. It suited him well, loathe as you were to admit it.

"Or is it that you're being shy?" he asked in a singsong. "Prefect 🎵"

"I-I'm not!" you squeaked, stepping back to put distance between the two of you. "Quit assuming things, Ace! This is why you're so annoying."

"And who is it that's decided to hang out with my 'annoying' ass, huh?" he countered smoothly.

"Urgh...! Maybe I shouldn't have wasted my time waiting for you to get ready after all..." you muttered, turning away from him. "My morning would be way more peaceful without you."

"Way less interesting too," he quipped--getting in the last word.

You shook your head, but didn't bring yourself to argue. However meddlesome his tongue was, he had spoken the naked truth.

He's trouble, that Trappola.

[phoenixblaze1412]

AKADEMIYA DOTTIRE MUTUAL PINING FLUFF PLSS I need MORE of him.... like he's so stubborn abt his obvious feelings for reader but everyone knows whats going on 💀 - 🐓 anon (yippe i am feeling better!)

The Akademiya was always bustling with activity—students racing to submit papers, scholars deeply engrossed in their research, and professors barking instructions with the kind of urgency that made every moment feel critical.

But amidst the chaos, one constant stood out: Zandik, the enigmatic, sharp-tongued scholar with a brilliant but ruthless mind.

Everyone knew of him. He was the kind of person you either feared, admired, or tried desperately to avoid. And yet, there you were, somehow standing in the middle of his orbit, immune to his sharp glares and biting remarks.

You weren’t sure when it had started, this strange dynamic between you and him. Perhaps it was during one of those late-night study sessions in the library, when you’d caught him muttering under his breath about the incompetence of his peers and dared to laugh.

Or maybe it was the time you’d accidentally spilled ink on one of his carefully annotated diagrams and stayed up all night redrawing it to perfection.

Either way, there was something undeniable brewing between you. Something that everyone else seemed to notice… except Zandik himself.

It started with the way he always found an excuse to be near you.

“Your theories are painfully simplistic,” he had declared one day, pulling up a chair beside you in the library. “But I suppose I could refine them.”

From then on, he made it a habit to critique your work, though his “critiques” often came with oddly helpful suggestions. If you pointed this out, he’d scoff and roll his eyes.

“It’s not for your sake,” he’d insist. “I simply can’t bear to see such mediocrity in my vicinity.”

But his actions told a different story. He’d linger longer than necessary during study sessions, sometimes even staying until you finished just to walk you back to your dorm under the guise of discussing “important matters.”

Then there were the little things. How he always seemed to know when you skipped a meal and would leave a snack on your desk without a word, or how he’d bristle when someone else tried to monopolize your attention.

Everyone around you noticed.

“Is he always this… territorial?” one of your classmates whispered one day after Zandik had all but glared down another student who had asked you to partner with them for a project.

You’d waved it off, though the heat rising to your cheeks betrayed your indifference. “He’s just like that,” you said.

But deep down, you couldn’t ignore the way your heart raced whenever he was near or the warmth that spread through you whenever he offered one of his begrudging compliments.

Zandik, for his part, was just as oblivious to his own feelings. He couldn’t understand why he felt an inexplicable irritation whenever someone else made you laugh or why he always seemed to be drawn to your side, even when he had other pressing matters to attend to.

“You’re distracting,” he snapped one day, his crimson eyes narrowing as you leaned over a table to examine a shared diagram.

You raised an eyebrow, smirking. “I’m distracting? You’re the one who barged in here uninvited.”

He huffed, crossing his arms. “Someone has to keep you from embarrassing yourself with half-baked theories.”

But there was no real bite to his words, and the slight flush on his cheeks didn’t go unnoticed.

“You’re impossible,” you said, shaking your head with a laugh.

“And yet, you tolerate me,” he muttered under his breath, almost as if he didn’t want you to hear.

If Zandik was blind to his feelings, the rest of the Akademiya certainly wasn’t. Your mutual pining had become something of a running joke among your peers, though no one dared mention it within earshot of Zandik himself.

One afternoon, as you sat in the courtyard reviewing notes, a friend plopped down beside you with a knowing grin.

“So,” they began, “when are you and Zandik going to stop pretending this is just an academic rivalry?”

You nearly choked on your tea. “What are you talking about?”

“Oh, come on. Everyone sees it. The way he looks at you, the way you light up whenever he’s around... It’s painfully obvious.”

Your face burned, but you quickly shook your head. “He doesn’t feel that way. He’s just.. Zandik. Yeah, that’s how he is with everyone.”

Your friend snorted. “Trust me, he’s not like that with everyone. I’ve seen him tear people apart for less than what he tolerates from you. Face it, he’s got it bad.”

It all came to one evening during another late-night study session. The library was nearly empty, the faint glow of candlelight casting flickering shadows across the rows of bookshelves.

You were both seated at your usual table, the silence between you broken only by the scratch of quills and the rustle of parchment. But tonight, Zandik seemed more restless than usual.

He kept stealing glances at you, his jaw tight and his fingers tapping impatiently against the table.

Finally, he spoke.

“Why do you put up with me?”

The question caught you off guard. You set down your quill, looking at him with confusion.

“What do you mean?”

He leaned back in his chair, his crimson eyes fixed on you. “You’re… kind to me. Patient. Even when I don’t deserve it. Why?”

You hesitated, your heart pounding. “Because I like being around you,” you admitted softly.

“You’re brilliant, and you challenge me in ways no one else does. I don’t care what other people think of you—I see the person you really are.”

For once, Zandik was silent, his usually sharp tongue failing him. The vulnerability in your words left him feeling exposed, like you’d stripped away every layer of his carefully constructed persona.

“I don’t understand you,” he finally said, his voice quiet. “But… I don’t want you to stop.”

From that moment on, something shifted between you. The tension that had always simmered just beneath the surface finally gave way to something softer, something real.

Zandik was still himself—arrogant, sharp-tongued, and insufferably stubborn. But he began to let his guard down around you in small, meaningful ways. He’d linger a little longer when you laughed, his gaze softening in a way that made your heart flutter.

And one day, as you walked together through the quiet halls of the Akademiya, he stopped abruptly, turning to face you.

“You were right,” he said, his voice low but steady.

“About what?” you asked, tilting your head.

“About… us.” He took a deep breath, his usual confidence faltering. “I care about you. More than I realized. More than I thought I could.”

Your breath caught, but you managed a smile. “It’s about time you admitted it.”

He scoffed, but there was no malice in it. “Don’t get used to me saying it. But… I’ll prove it, in my own way.”

And as he reached for your hand, his fingers brushing against yours, you knew that beneath all his stubbornness and bravado, there was a man who cared deeply.

A man who was finally willing to let you see the depths of his heart.

[sugarplumkneecaps]

Hello there! I'd like to request a Sonic x reader x Shadow if you will but if you can't then Shadow x Reader is fine! But basically since it's almost valentine's day, they have like a day together on Valentine's day just being all couple-y n stuff? Thank you take care! ❤️

A/N: Ahh! I’m going to give the 3 person one shot a go. I really hope I do your request justice <3 I tried to stick with something pretty wholesome and cute <3 Enjoy!

Valentine

Pairing: Sonic x Reader x Shadow C/W: none Genre: Wholesome, cuddling, fluff

“Well, here we are!”

Sonic’s voice cut through the loud noises of the city around you as you stood before a colorful building dawning all sorts of Chao memorabilia. Sonic had been going on about this new Chao Garden cafe for weeks and the grand opening just happened to be on Valentine’s Day. Shadow insisted that it was an elaborate marketing ploy and that you all should go after the hype had worn off. Sonic wasn’t one to wait for anything, though.

Crossing his arms over his chest defiantly, Shadow’s voice rose about the loud honking of cars and chatter of the long line formed around you, “did you get a reservation?”

“Sonic the Hedgehog doesn’t need a reservation,” Sonic declared, putting his outstretched thumb into his chest for emphasis. “Watch and learn!” He turned on his heel and headed toward the staff outside directing foot traffic. Each staff member looked horribly stressed, each wearing a forced smile when approached in between obsessively checking their clipboards. Marketing scheme or not, you felt awful for them and only hoped that the crowd would have mercy on them.

Sonic approached one of them confidently, interrupting their frantic preparations, “hiya! I’m Sonic the hedgehog and I-“

“Look, mister, I’m sorry but if you don’t have a reservation I can’t help you.”

Taken aback by the abrupt answer, Sonic tried again with an earnest tone, “Aha- right. Well, can’t you make an exception to the rule? What with me saving the world constantly and whatnot?”

You had to give Sonic credit for trying. The worker, however, was none too pleased. Exasperated by the interaction (and probably the line that wrapped around the building far from view), they answered firmly, “no reservation, no service.”

Returning to you, Sonic shrugged and smiled sheepishly, “they must of lost my reservation!”

“Typical,” Shadow shook his head, pulling his phone from his quills and typing something. “Let’s go.”

“What about lunch?” you asked, your stomach reminding you of your pitiful breakfast that morning. You had overslept and had to rush out the door in order to meet Shadow and Sonic here. All you managed was a granola bar and a breakfast shake, which had held you over enough to take the train here. But now, it was time for real food.

“I had a feeling Sonic might have dropped the ball, so I made reservations elsewhere.”

Sonic hung his head in comical defeat as you all started off to where Shadow led you. The walk over wasn’t incredibly far, thank Chaos, but the difference between the previous location and this was drastic. You stood before a small door leading inside a tall building, the windows having their blinds drawn to block out the sun overhead. On the door in small, neat print read “Chao Bao”. You reached out to turn the knob, pushing the door with some force to release it from the stuck frame.

An older gentleman stood behind a server stand, greeting you all as you entered, “why hello! Good afternoon!” He peered down at the page before him, sliding his long finger down the page until stopping abruptly. “Shadow?”

“Yes.”

“Ah! Right on the dot! Right this way, please.”

You followed him back into the building, moving between pillars and separating walls. As you walked down the hallway, you took note of the private rooms on either side of you. Muffled sounds of laughter sung behind each closed door until you all reached the one the host directed you into.

“Your waiter will be there momentarily! Make yourself comfortable.”

You all entered the room one after the other, taking in the sight of the private space. You found your way over to one of the intricately carved chairs, sitting gingerly at the large rosewood table. Within minutes of getting settled, you had all ordered and waited on your food.

“Man, Shadow, you really had to show me up,” Sonic pondered aloud, glancing around the room, nodding his head in approval.

“You say that as if it is difficult to do,” Shadow scoffed, a playful smile tugging at his lips.

“I’m just happy we get to spend the day together,” you offered. You genuinely felt so lucky to have these two goof balls in your life. Your relationship with them was unique, sure, but they made you happy in ways you didn’t know were even possible. Shadow offered a great deal of stability in most things and Sonic added spontaneity to the mix. Even though their bickering was the most of your worries after years of squabbles, they both worked well together to take care of you as their partner.

Rounds of bao were delivered onto the table alongside various other items that you couldn’t concern yourself with before digging in to sate your aching stomach. Sonic matched your pace, groaning after a short while as he rubbed his distended belly. Shadow thanked the servers before standing to leave. “Let’s get moving, we have more to do.”

You glanced at Shadow, giving him a quizzical look, “oh? Does it require much energy? I think I’m due for a nap after that.”

He smiled at you sweetly, moving over to you to offer a hand to stand you up. You placed your hand in his, the warm of his palm sending a tingling sensation down your forearm.

Sonic got up to join you both, stretching his arms above his head as he went. “Are we heading over to-”

“Yes.” Shadow answered curtly, narrowing his eyes at Sonic. “Do you not know the meaning of the word surprise? Now shut it.”

Sonic laughed loudly, giving you both a grand thumbs up before you went on your way.

The two had planned the most elaborate day of fun and doting you could have imagined, showering you with love and gifts that you showed endless appreciation for. It was far too soon when night crept over the city, signaling the time for your departure. Each of them kissed your hand before waving you off on your train. You had wished to spend more time with them, but with their insane work schedules, you understood their reasons for not entertaining late night hang outs.

However, upon entering your apartment, you found them both lounging on the couch, as if they were summoned by your very thoughts. You stumbled over your words, trying to piece together a coherent thought.

“You didn’t think it was over, did ya?” Sonic winked, grabbing your hand and leading you to the spot on the couch between them. They had done everything you hadn’t ever considered to be done to prepare for a lovely night in; rose petals were strewn about, candles had been lit, various sweets awaited you on the coffee table alongside a large bowl of popcorn and your favorite cup had been filled with your favorite drink. You felt an overwhelming sensation to tear up as each hedgehog took each of your hands into their own.

Images of your favorite film flashed on the screen, scenes playing out as you munched on your gifted snacks and cuddled between Shadow and Sonic. As the film neared its end, they each kissed your hand once more.

“Happy Valentine’s Day, love.”

[washoping]

You're enough

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Emily Prentiss x reader

summary: You've had a really bad day, leaving you unable to get up and face the world. When Emily comes home from work to find you still in bed, she knows something deeper is wrong - and she won't let you go through it alone.

tags: fluff and angst, emotional hurt/comfort, mental health issues, self-esteem issues, depression, comfort

f/f │ 2.7k words │ ao3

a/n: another lil oneshot i wrote to get my own feelings out of my head, hopefully this will help and maybe bring comfort to some of you as well. please remember you're not alone <3 also, requests are welcome!

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The apartment was quiet, almost too quiet. It was the kind of silent that felt heavy and suffocating.  The only thing you could hear was the rhythmic pulse of the clock, its sound a cruel reminder of time passing. You were staring up at the ceiling, the grey evening light filtering weakly through the half-drawn blinds, casting a dull glow in the room. The day had been so long. Time had lost its meaning sometime after Emily had left for work. The hours had blurred together, morning to afternoon, afternoon to evening, leaving you feeling empty and making the day slip away without you.

You hadn’t moved from the comfort of your bed since Emily left that morning - maybe even longer. It felt like you were sinking, trapped underneath the weight of invisible hands pressing you into the mattress. You couldn’t explain why or how the day had ended up being like this. It just had. All you knew was that everything had felt off for you since the moment you opened your eyes, like the world was tilted off its axis. So you had stayed still, cocooned in the safety of your bed, even though it wasn’t truly safe. Not from yourself.

And then you heard the sound of the front door opening and closing echoing through the quiet apartment, pulling you from the void of your thoughts. Emily’s familiar, calm voice broke through the silence.

”Baby? I’m home!”

You heard her keys drop into the glass bowl on the counter, the rustle of her jacket being hung up on its hook, her kicking her shoes off. The sounds of normalcy. Something inside your chest ached at that. It didn’t bring the usual comfort. It was like you were stuck watching and hearing life happening in front of your eyes but between that and you there was a thick glass wall - so close, but completely unreachable.

You could tell by the tone of Emily’s voice that there was a little smile on her face. It nearly broke you. The easiness she used the pet name for you with, how happy she seemed to see you after a long day. She sounded so normal, as if nothing was wrong. She had no idea what she was walking into. You hated yourself for putting her through this.

You didn’t respond. One part of you wanted to get up to meet your girlfriend in the kitchen, to pretend everything was fine. That was something you were a professional in. But right now, your body felt heavy, your limbs didn’t want to cooperate. You didn’t have the energy to do so. The sheets around your body had become more like chains throughout the day, holding you in place with the weight of your exhaustion, both physical and emotional.

Another part of you hoped that the quietness and stillness in the apartment would keep her at a distance, just for a while longer. You needed her, your body yearned for comfort but you weren’t ready. You weren’t ready for her questions or to see the disappointed look in her eyes when she realized you weren’t feeling well. You weren’t ready for her to see you like this. Not today.

Emily’s footsteps padded down the hallway and instead of awakening the usual excitement inside you with them, you felt your anxiety deepen. You heard her knock lightly on the bedroom door before opening it. ”Babe?”

The door creaked a bit and you felt Emily’s presence before you saw her. She stood there for a moment, silent, taking in the sight of you still wrapped in bed like a lifeless figure beneath the covers. You pretended to be asleep. The room was dim and in the air there were faint traces of yesterday’s coffee that had long gone cold on the nightstand. You hadn’t even managed to open the blinds fully. It reduced the world outside to a narrow sliver of pale light that barely got in the room.

You heard Emily sigh. You were sure she was disappointed.

”Have you been in bed all day?” she asked, her voice soft but clearly laced with concern. There was something in her tone that made your chest tighten - a mix of worry and confusion probably, like she was trying to piece together what had happened in your world while she was gone for the day.

Once again, you didn’t answer. You just curled up tighter.

Emily walked towards you cautiously and you felt the mattress dip a little underneath you when she sat on the edge of the bed. You felt the warmth of her presence beside you but it only made you pull the blankets tighter around your body, like a shield. The fabric was rough against your skin from being tangled with you all day.

”Honey, talk to me”, Emily said and reached out, her hand brushing softly against your arm. Her touch was gentle but insistent. ”Did you get up at all? Have you eaten anything?”

”I’m just tired, Emily”, you whispered your weak excuse. The lie had barely left your lips before it felt hollow already, hanging heavy in the air between you. ”I just want to sleep, okay?”

The words felt wrong. The truth was that you didn’t even know what you wanted. Sleep seemed like an impossible task, but so did getting out of bed. Facing the world seemed the most daunting. What you needed was for everything to stop for a while so you could breathe.

Emily’s hand lingered on your arm, her thumb now brushing small circles against your skin in a soothing manner. You felt her hesitate a bit and a part of you wished she would stop. That she would just leave you alone to sink back into the void you’d been trying to disappear into the whole day. But another part of you, a more fragile part, longed for her to stay more than anything so she could pull you out of the darkness even though you felt like you didn’t deserve the help.

”Hey… come here”, she murmured, her voice barely above a whisper as she leaned in closer, her lips brushing softly against the crown of your head.

You felt the mattress shift again as she tried to wrap her arms around you to pull you into her embrace, but you flinched, turning your body away from her. It stung. Your hand came up reflexively, pushing her away in a weak attempt to create some distance. It wasn’t that you didn’t want her comfort. You imagined the hurt look on her face just now after declining her embrace and it made you feel even worse. You wanted her comfort so bad but didn’t feel worthy of it.

”Okay, okay…” Emily’s voice was clearly filled with hurt now, the softness of it was disappearing. She sat back, giving you space, but you could feel the tension in the air as if she was waiting for an explanation - something to make sense of why you were acting like this.

”I told you”, you muttered, your voice cracking slightly as you tried your best to keep the flood of emotions in. You didn’t have the energy to let it out. ”I’m just tired. That’s all. I need to be alone for a bit.”

It wasn’t convincing at all. It all sounded like pure lies. You didn’t want to be alone. Being alone was what had gotten you here, spiraling deeper until you couldn’t breathe. But the part of letting her in and exposing this part of you to her was equally terrifying. What if she saw you like this and realized you weren’t worth it and that she couldn’t do this anymore?

You could feel the tears building again, your eyes burning from the hours you had spent crying alone in the dark. You bit your lips together, clenching your jaw, trying to hold back the wave of emotions that threatened to spill over. But Emily read you like a book. She wasn’t fooled.

”Look at me”, she whispered, gently but insistent on solving all of this. Her hand reached for your face and even though everything inside you screamed to pull away, to hide the shame and mess, you couldn’t. Your body betrayed you in the best way possible, frozen in the space between wanting both; to disappear and needing her to see all of you. So you let her fingers grab your chin and turn your head towards her.

Her gaze finally locked with yours properly for the first time after her coming home. The world seemed to still for a moment. Her expression shifted immediately the second her eyes met your eyes, red and blood-shot from all the crying. You saw so much love in hers, in the way she looked at you. It was almost unbearable.

”Oh baby…” she breathed, her thumb gently wiping away the tear that slipped down your cheek. So soft, so tender. ”Why didn’t you say anything?”

You couldn’t answer. The lump in your was too thick now, the shame too overwhelming. What would you even say? That you had spent the entire day trapped beneath the crushing weight of your own emotions, feeling like you were sinking into the bed, disappearing into the heaviness of it all? That each minute had felt like drowning, the weight pressing down on you until you couldn’t move, couldn’t breathe?

How could you explain that the hopelessness clawing at your insides was so deep, so consuming that it had taken all your energy just to exist today? And that despite it all you still didn’t feel like you deserved to be here, in her arms, in her life even?

All that didn’t even begin to explain the depth of the hopelessness you felt.

Her thumb traced another tear away as her eyes searched for your face, more concerned now after not hearing you say anything.

”Please, talk to me”, she whispered, cracks in her voice showing her calmness cracking. ”What’s going on? I just want to help.”

Your breath hitched, the pressure in your chest building until it felt like you were about to break.

”I… I had a bad day.” Everything you wanted to say was stuck in your throat and your voice trembled. The words felt like they barely scratched the surface. ”I had a really bad day.”

Emily’s hand never left your cheek, her thumb still stroking your cheek softly. She didn’t push. She didn’t demand more than you could give. She gave you time and waited. She gave you space when you needed it.

”You were right. I didn’t… I didn’t get out of bed”, you finally admitted, your voice barely audible. You couldn’t look into her eyes while you spoke. ”I just stayed here, all day. I couldn’t… do anything. I’m so sorry.”

”Sorry for what?” Emily’s voice was soft. Her brows furrowed as she tried to understand. ”You don’t have to apologize for having a bad day, love. You should’ve told me in the morning, I would’ve stayed with you.”

The floodgates opened before you could stop them. The shame, the self-hate, it all spilled out of you harder this time. Your whole body trembled as you finally let go of some of the emotions you had been holding back all day, crying out the words you hadn’t let yourself say until now.

”I don’t deserve this. I don’t deserve you”, you sobbed now, voice thick with shame. ”I don’t deserve you. I’m a mess, Emily. Don’t you see? I’m a fucking mess and I don’t understand why you’re here. I don’t deserve your love. Not like this. I don’t even understand why you’re staying. Go.”

You thought this would be it - the moment where your words would push her away, too far, and she’d finally see you for what you truly were. She’d pull away, finally tired of the broken person she was holding. And she’d leave just like everyone else.

But she didn’t. She didn’t leave or pull away. Instead, Emily’s arms tightened around you, pulling you closer as if she could shield you from the darkness inside yourself. She held you so close you could feel her heartbeat, steady and strong against your own quick frantic pulse.

”Stop, please. Stop that right now”, she whispered. Her voice was thick with emotion, like she was about to cry too. ”You don’t have to be perfect for me to love you. You never have to be perfect. You’re enough just as you are. You’ve always been enough. What do I have to do to make you see that?”

Her words broke something inside you - something so deep, something you had buried a long time ago. The dam holding back your emotions finally shattered and you collapsed into her, your sobs shaking your entire body as you clung to her. Your tears dampened the fabric of her shirt but neither one of you cared at all. Emily’s arms didn’t falter as she held you closer than anyone had ever done before. Her hand stroked your hair gently, her lips pressed soft kisses on your temples. Her touch grounded you, keeping you from slipping away.

”I’m here”, she whispered softly into your hair, over and over again as if she hoped the more she said it the more of a chance she would have in making you believe it. ”I’m here and I’m not going anywhere.”

Slowly but surely, thanks to Emily, your sobs quieted and were replaced by the sound of your ragged breathing. Your head rested against Emily’s chest as you listened to her steady heartbeat next to your ear. It brought you so much comfort, anchoring you from the darkness you’d been drowning in. She held you for a long time, not letting go.

When you finally pulled back and wiped your tear-streaked face you felt lighter. The suffocating weight inside your chest had lifted just enough for you to feel like you could take a full breath again. You wiped your teary eyes, ashamed of how vulnerable you felt.

”Do you really mean it?” you asked, your voice small and shaky with embarrassment. It felt like a stupid question to ask but you needed to hear her say it. To make sure. ”That… that I’m enough?”

Emily cupped your face and you were met with her dark eyes full of love, so full of certainty that you felt stupid for doubting her for even a second.

”I’ve never meant anything more, my love”, she promised you as her thumb traced your bottom lip gently. ”You’re stronger than you think. And even on your worst days, you still deserve to be loved. Actually, especially on those days.”

Tears welled up again in your eyes but this time they felt different. They weren’t the sharp, painful kind that came with the weight of your shame. They were softer, warmer, a mixture of relief and gratitude. Relief that Emily was still here, that she hadn’t pulled away, and gratitude for the unconditional love she offered you, even when you couldn’t offer it to yourself.

Her fingers brushed softly against your skin and you leaned into her touch, so drawn to the safety that radiated from her. For just a moment you allowed yourself to believe in her words. It was hard, so incredibly hard to accept that you were worthy of this love, but you tried. You tried to let her love fill the cracks your self-doubt had formed.

Emily leaned in, pressing a lingering kiss on your lips that were stained with the tears that she hadn’t caught while caressing your face with her thumbs. The familiar feel of her lips against yours made you smile a little, for the first time today. Emily smiled too.

”We’ll get through this together”, she murmured against your lips as she pressed her forehead against yours. ”You’re not alone, okay? I won’t let the darkness swallow you, I’ll be here to bring you back every time. I promise. I’m with you, always.”

Her words wrapped around you like a protective blanket and for the first time in what felt like forever, you allowed yourself to believe them. Maybe, just maybe, you didn’t have to carry this burden on your own. Maybe you didn’t have to be perfect in order to deserve love. Emily was here, still here, even when you were at your lowest, even when you couldn’t love yourself.

And for now, that was enough. You were enough.