#and it was just so. comfortable and playful and casual and normal

[eternaldesi]

ᯓ nailtech!matt x . Client!reader 𓍼

─── You book a nail appointment with Matt and can’t stop blushing as he gently holds your hands to work on your nails, making casual small talk that feels more like flirting.

YOUR NERVES BUBBLED UP AS YOU WALKED INTO THE SMALL NAIL SALON tucked on the corner of the street, the faint scent of acetone and lavender greeting you as the bell above the door jingled softly. You glanced around, noticing the clean, minimalistic aesthetic of the space—soft neutrals, sleek furniture, and soft music humming in the background. It felt comforting, but your heart still raced for an entirely different reason.

Matt.

You’d heard about him through a friend who couldn’t stop gushing about his attention to detail and how sweet he was with his clients. “Plus, he’s ridiculously cute,” your friend had teased, and you hadn’t been able to stop thinking about it since booking the appointment. Now, here you were, mentally preparing yourself for an hour of sitting across from him, hoping you didn’t make a fool of yourself. “Hi, welcome!” a cheerful voice called from the reception desk. “Do you have an appointment?” You nodded, your voice catching for a moment. “Yes, um, I have an appointment with Matt at two?” The receptionist smiled and motioned toward the far end of the room. “You can head over. He’s ready for you!”

You swallowed nervously as you walked toward the station, your eyes landing on him. Matt was hunched over his table, organizing small jars of polish and tools, his movements precise and focused. His dark hair fell slightly into his face, but as you approached, he glanced up, and his brown eyes locked with yours. “Hey,” he greeted, his voice smooth but casual, a small smile tugging at his lips. “You must be my two o’clock.” “That’s me,” you said, willing yourself to sound normal. He gestured toward the chair across from him. “Go ahead and have a seat. What are we doing for you today?”Sliding into the chair, you placed your hands on the table, feeling hyper-aware of every little movement. “Um, I was thinking something simple? Maybe a light pink?” Matt nodded, his gaze flicking to your hands as he reached for a swatch book. “Light pink, got it. Let me show you a few shades so we can pick the perfect one.”

As he flipped through the swatches, his fingers brushed against yours, and you felt your cheeks instantly heat up. His hands were warm, his touch soft yet deliberate, and it was enough to make your heart race. “This one’s really popular,” he said, holding up a soft blush pink. “But if you want something with a little more shine, this one’s nice too.” You tried to focus on the colors, but all you could think about was the way his voice seemed to wrap around you, smooth and inviting. You nodded at the first option. “That one looks perfect.” “Good choice,” he said, his smile widening slightly. “Alright, let’s get started.” He took your hand gently, his touch firm yet careful as he inspected your nails. “You’ve got a nice nail shape,” he remarked casually, his tone so matter-of-fact it took a moment for you to process it as a compliment.

“Oh, uh, thanks,” you stammered, feeling the heat rise to your cheeks again. Matt glanced up briefly, a playful glint in his eyes. “You blush a lot, don’t you?” Your eyes widened, and you let out a nervous laugh. “What? No, I mean… maybe.” He chuckled softly, the sound warm and genuine as he began filing your nails. “It’s cute,” he said simply, his focus shifting back to his work as if he hadn’t just casually made your heart skip a beat. The next few minutes passed in a blur of soft touches and quiet conversation. Matt asked you about your day, your job, your favorite colors—each question feeling more like an attempt to get to know you than just small talk. He had a way of making you feel at ease, even as you sat there, hyper-aware of how close he was and how gently he held your hands. “You’re really good at this,” you said at one point, watching as he applied the polish with steady, precise strokes.“Thanks,” he said, glancing up briefly with a small smile. “I like it. It’s kind of relaxing, you know? Plus, I get to meet interesting people like you.” Your breath hitched slightly, and you tried to play it cool. “Oh, so I’m interesting?”

Matt paused, looking up fully this time, his smile turning a little mischievous. “Definitely. You’re blushing again, by the way.” You groaned, covering your face with your free hand. “I can’t help it, okay?” He laughed, the sound light and teasing. “I’m not complaining.” By the time he finished, your nails looked flawless—a soft pink that was just the right balance of subtle and elegant. Matt held your hand for a moment longer, inspecting his work before letting go. “There you go,” he said, leaning back slightly. “Perfectly polished.”

You looked at your nails, then back at him, your heart fluttering at the way he smiled at you. “Thank you. They’re beautiful.” “No problem,” he said, starting to clean up his station. “Come back anytime. I mean it.” As you stood up, you felt a strange mix of relief and disappointment—it was over, but you already wanted to book your next appointment. “Thanks again, Matt,” you said, hesitating for a moment before turning to leave. “Anytime,” he replied, his voice warm. Then, just as you reached the door, he called out, “Hey!” You turned back, your heart skipping a beat.

“Don’t wait too long to book your next appointment,” he said, his grin playful. “I’d hate to forget how much you blush.” You rolled your eyes, but you couldn’t stop the smile that spread across your face as you walked out the door, already counting down the days until you’d see him again.

[kath-artic]

wowowow.... im the luckiest person alive rn

[flwrstqr]

( 好き) : ENHYPEN WHEN YOU CALL THEM "HUSBAND" ────𝗆𝖾 𝖺𝗇𝖽 𝗆𝗒 𝗁𝗎𝗌𝖻𝖺𝗇𝖽, 𝗐𝖾'𝗋𝖾 𝗌𝗍𝗂𝖼𝗄𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗍𝗈𝗀𝖾𝗍𝗁𝖾𝗋

( ✶ 𝓢) ⦂ 엔하이픈 + f ! r. 1OOOwc. ──kissing, skinship, petnames && reactions ⠀ ｡｡ ⠀fluff, oneshot 𖥔 ⠀ARCHiVE ૮ ♡◞ ◟ ა

danielle msgs：i've been stocking up on my writing.. ㅠㅠ

𝐋𝐄𝐄 𝐇𝐄𝐄𝐒𝐄��𝐍𝐆

you’re sprawled across the couch, head resting on heeseung’s chest, his arm draped lazily around your waist. “hey, husband, can you grab me some water?” you murmur, half-teasing, half-testing the word on your tongue. heeseung stiffens beneath you, then lets out a breathy laugh, his fingers tracing little circles on your side. “husband, huh?” he repeats, his tone playful but his voice a little lower than usual. “getting ahead of yourself, baby?” you tilt your head up to meet his gaze, a cheeky grin tugging at your lips. “what, don’t like it?” his smile softens, the teasing edge giving way to something warmer. “nah,” he whispers, leaning down to press a kiss to your forehead, “i kinda love it.”

𝐏𝐀𝐑𝐊 𝐉𝐀𝐘

jay’s fingers are gently threading through your hair as you sit between his legs on the bed, your back resting against his chest. the soft scent of his cologne lingers in the air, and the world feels quiet, wrapped in the warmth of his presence. “my sweet husband, can you braid my hair?” you ask absentmindedly, the word slipping out so naturally as if it was the most normal thing you said to jay. his hands still for a moment, and then you feel him chuckle softly against your neck. “what did you just call me, princess?” he teases, his voice dripping with that mix of amusement and affection he saves just for you. you blink, realizing what you said, and glance back at him, cheeks warming. “oh… well, you act like one,” you mumble, looking away shyly. jay laughs, tilting your chin back toward him. “if you want to call me husband, i’m not complaining or maybe i'll get down on one knee,” he grins, pressing a kiss to your temple. “anything my pretty princess wants.”

𝐒𝐈𝐌 𝐉𝐀𝐊𝐄

“jake, can you hand me that—thanks, my husband,” you say casually, not even looking up as you grab the remote. he freezes, eyes widening as a slow grin spreads across his face. “what did you just call me?” he asks, voice teasing but with that little edge of disbelief. you glance at him, all innocent. “husband. why, does it bother you, husband?” you stretch out the word on purpose, your lips twitching as his cheeks flush. “oh, you’re bold today,” he mutters, pulling you closer by the waist, his hand warm against your back. “you keep saying that, baby, and i might just make it permanent.” your heart skips, but you don’t let him win. “big talk, husband,” you whisper. he smirks, leaning in. “don’t start something you can’t finish, wife.”

𝐏𝐀𝐑𝐊 𝐒𝐔𝐍𝐆𝐇𝐎𝐎𝐍

you’re lounging on the couch, your head resting comfortably on sunghoon’s shoulder as he scrolls through his phone. absentmindedly, you murmur, “husband, pass me the remote?” the word slips out so naturally that you don’t even realize it until he freezes mid-scroll. slowly, he turns to you, eyebrows furrowed and eyes wide. “husband? since when were we married?” he asks, blinking in confusion, his voice slightly higher than usual. you bite back a grin, shrugging casually. “since now,” you reply, as if it’s the most obvious thing in the world. sunghoon’s ears turn pink, and he looks away, lips parting like he wants to say something but can’t quite process it. after a moment, he clears his throat. “well… you should’ve told me earlier. i would’ve planned a honeymoon,” he mumbles, slipping an arm around your waist to pull you close.

𝐊𝐈𝐌 𝐒𝐔𝐍𝐎𝐎

“yeah, my husband and i would love to go!” you chirp into the phone, casually leaning into sunoo’s side as your fingers absentmindedly play with his. the conversation wraps up, and the moment you hang up, he’s staring at you, eyes wide and cheeks glowing. “husband?” he blurts, his voice an octave higher than usual. you shrug, barely sparing him a glance as you unlock your phone. “yeah, what about it? husband has a nice ring to it,” you tease, glancing up at him with a knowing smirk. “plus, you’re going to be my future husband anyway, right?” sunoo blinks, his lips twitching before he hides his face in your neck. “you can’t just say stuff like that!” he mutters. you nudge him lightly. “oh, come on. admit it—you like the sound of it.” he mumbles in the crook of your neck, “…maybe.”

𝐘𝐀𝐍𝐆 𝐉𝐔𝐍𝐆𝐖𝐎𝐍

you’re curled up on the couch with jungwon, his arm around your shoulders as some random drama plays on the tv. your head rests on his chest, your hand fiddling with the string of his hoodie . “husband, can you get me the popcorn over there?” you say absentmindedly, your voice soft and casual like it’s the most natural thing in the world. jungwon doesn’t even flinch, just leans over to grab the popcorn from the side and hands it to you with a small, amused smile. “here you go, my pretty girl,” he murmurs teasingly, pressing a kiss to your temple. his fingers start tracing lazy circles on your arm as if to remind you just how much he loves being close to you. “what? you’re not gonna freak out or blush?” you tease, glancing up at him. he grins, leaning down to kiss the tip of your nose. “why would i? i know it’s only a matter of time before it’s true.”

𝐍𝐈𝐒𝐇𝐈𝐌𝐔𝐑𝐀 𝐑𝐈𝐊𝐈

“husband, can you grab my water?” you call out casually from your spot on the bed, scrolling through your phone. riki freezes mid-step, turning to you with the most exaggerated grin. “what did you just call me?” he asks, already knowing full well what he heard. you roll your eyes. “you heard me. water, please.” instead of complying, he smirks, leaning against the doorway with his arms crossed. “wow, you’re already dreaming about marrying me, huh? didn’t know you were that obsessed.” you toss a pillow at him, groaning. “don’t flatter yourself! it slipped out!” he catches the pillow with ease, laughing as he saunters over to sit beside you. “nah, admit it. you’re practicing for the future.” “riki, just get the water,” you huff, your cheeks heating up. he finally relents, but not before pinching your cheek. “fine, wife, anything for you.”d, can you grab my water?”

[amirasainz]

What about reader is a team principal of a team and every driver and there girlfriend are obsessed with her?

Hahaha, omg this is so funny.

Enjoy reading and send some requests!!!

-xoxo

Obvious

The world of Formula 1 was unforgiving, relentless, and absolutely cutthroat. But there was one anomaly in the paddock that no one could quite figure out: Y/N, the 22-year-old team principal of McLaren. Her rapid rise to the top was a story everyone whispered about, but no one dared to challenge.

She was brilliant, tenacious, and had an air of authority that made her presence impossible to ignore. But what truly set her apart was the way she unknowingly had every driver—and their girlfriends—wrapped around her finger. They were utterly, hopelessly obsessed with her, and Y/N remained blissfully unaware, thinking it was just the normal way people treated their boss.

Exhibit 1: Dinner with George and Carmen

It was a rare off-day between races, and Y/N found herself in London at George’s request. The Mercedes driver had insisted on taking her out to dinner with his girlfriend Carmen joining them.

“I’m glad you agreed to come, Y/N,” George smiled as he pulled out a chair for her. “You’ve been working way too hard.”

Carmen leaned in, her eyes sparkling with admiration. “Yes, you need to relax sometimes. You’re always so busy.”

Y/N chuckled, feeling a bit flustered by their attention. “Thanks, guys, but it’s all part of the job, right? I mean, this season has been crazy.”

George leaned closer, casually placing his hand on the back of her chair, his fingers brushing against her shoulder. “You’re the youngest team principal in F1 history, Y/N. You’re allowed to take a break now and then. Let us take care of you tonight.”

Carmen nodded in agreement, her hand gently squeezing Y/N’s arm. “We wouldn’t want you burning out, would we?”

Y/N smiled, feeling a warmth that she couldn’t quite place. “You guys are too sweet. I’m just trying to keep up, you know?”

The dinner passed with easy laughter and conversation, and Y/N was too busy enjoying herself to notice how both George and Carmen kept finding excuses to touch her—a hand on her arm here, a brush of fingers there. It was as if they couldn’t bear to be too far away from her.

---

Exhibit 2: A Mallorcan Escape with Carlos and Rebecca

The invitation had been impossible to refuse. Carlos had insisted on whisking Y/N away to Mallorca for a weekend of sun, relaxation, and good company. Rebecca was there too, constantly checking in to make sure Y/N was enjoying herself.

“This place is incredible,” Y/N said as she stepped out onto the balcony of their luxury villa, the Mediterranean Sea sparkling in the distance.

Carlos grinned, his hand resting comfortably on her lower back as he guided her to the sun lounger. “You deserve a break, Y/N. You’re always taking care of everyone else.”

Rebecca handed Y/N a cold drink, her smile warm and sincere. “Exactly. It’s our turn to look after you.”

Y/N blushed, sipping the drink as she looked out at the waves. “You guys are too nice. Honestly, I’m fine.”

Carlos laughed, sitting down beside her and casually resting his arm across the back of her chair, his fingers lightly grazing her shoulder. “Nice has nothing to do with it, Y/N. We just really enjoy spending time with you.”

Rebecca nodded, her hand resting on Y/N’s knee in a gesture that was both comforting and possessive. “We wouldn’t have it any other way.”

Y/N just smiled, thinking how lucky she was to have friends like them, completely missing the way both Carlos and Rebecca watched her every move with an intensity that went far beyond simple friendship.

---

Exhibit 3: Shopping Spree with Pierre and Kika

Y/N had never been a big shopper, but when Pierre and Kika insisted on a shopping trip in Milan, she couldn’t say no. The day was a blur of designer stores, laughter, and playful teasing.

“You’d look amazing in this,” Kika said, holding up a sleek black dress against Y/N.

Pierre nodded in agreement, his hand resting comfortably on Y/N’s waist as he leaned in to inspect the dress. “Try it on. We’re not leaving until you do.”

Y/N rolled her eyes playfully. “You guys are relentless. I’m supposed to be the boss, remember?”

Pierre smirked, giving her a light nudge toward the dressing room. “Not today, Y/N. Today, you’re our princess.”

Kika giggled, grabbing Y/N’s hand and dragging her along. “Exactly. And our princess needs a new wardrobe.”

Y/N couldn’t help but laugh as she tried on outfit after outfit, completely unaware of the way Pierre’s eyes lingered on her every time she emerged from the dressing room, or how Kika’s hand never left hers for long.

---

Exhibit 4: Movie Night with Max and Kelly

It was a cozy night in Monaco, and Max had convinced Y/N to come over for a low-key movie night. Kelly had made popcorn, and the three of them were snuggled up on the couch.

“You’ve been working too hard again,” Kelly said, her voice soft as she adjusted the blanket around Y/N’s shoulders. “You need to relax.”

Max nodded, his arm stretched along the back of the couch, his fingers gently playing with the ends of Y/N’s hair. “Yeah, you need to slow down sometimes. You’re making us all look bad.”

Y/N laughed, pulling the blanket tighter around herself. “Oh, please. You guys are the ones driving the cars at insane speeds every weekend.”

Max grinned, his hand dropping to rest on her shoulder, squeezing lightly. “And you’re the one making all the tough calls. That’s way more stressful.”

Kelly leaned in closer, her head resting lightly against Y/N’s. “We’re just glad you’re here. We love spending time with you.”

Y/N smiled, thinking how comforting it was to have Max and Kelly around. She missed the way Max’s thumb traced circles on her shoulder and the way Kelly’s fingers intertwined with hers under the blanket, as if they were afraid to let her go.

---

Exhibit 5: Yacht Day with Charles and Alexandra

When Charles invited Y/N out on his yacht, she thought it would be a casual day in the sun. But from the moment she stepped on board, she realized she was in for something far more luxurious.

“This is… wow,” Y/N breathed, taking in the sight of the pristine white yacht against the crystal blue waters of the French Riviera.

Charles smiled, his hand lingering on the small of her back as he guided her to a sunbed. “Only the best for our favorite team principal.”

Alexandra appeared with drinks, offering one to Y/N with a bright smile. “You deserve this, Y/N. You never take time for yourself.”

Y/N settled onto the sunbed, feeling the warmth of the sun and the company of her friends. “You guys are always spoiling me. I’m really not that special.”

Charles chuckled, leaning back beside her, his leg brushing against hers. “Oh, but you are, Y/N. You’re the heart of the paddock.”

Alexandra nodded in agreement, her hand resting comfortably on Y/N’s as they basked in the sun. “And we all adore you.”

Y/N blushed, not quite understanding why they were always so kind, but grateful all the same.

---

Exhibit 6: Golfing with Alex and Lily

Golf wasn’t Y/N’s sport, but when Alex and Lily insisted on a day out on the greens, she couldn’t say no. The trio laughed their way through the course, with Alex playfully showing Y/N how to swing properly, his hands guiding hers.

“You’ve got this, Y/N,” Alex said, his chest pressed against her back as he adjusted her stance. “Just focus.”

Y/N laughed, her cheeks flushed from the proximity. “You make it look so easy.”

Lily watched them with a knowing smile, resting her hand on Y/N’s shoulder. “You’ll get the hang of it. You’re already a pro at everything else.”

Y/N shook her head, trying to concentrate as Alex’s touch sent an unexpected thrill through her. “You guys are way too nice to me.”

Alex and Lily exchanged a look, one that Y/N missed entirely as she tried to focus on her swing. They were both addicted to her presence, to the way she brightened every room she walked into.

---

As the season went on, Y/N continued to be the center of attention in ways she never quite understood. Every driver and their partners found excuses to spend time with her, to touch her, to keep her close. And though she often felt overwhelmed by their affection, she chalked it up to just having great friends in the paddock.

But to everyone else, it was clear: Y/N wasn’t just a team principal. She was the object of an unspoken obsession, the one person they all couldn’t bear to be without. And whether she realized it or not, they were all just a little bit in love with her.

[rafey-baby]

sweet treat 5

shy!reader really wants to tell construction worker!rafe how she feels but what if he doesn’t feel the same way?  

c/w: the L word, mostly fluff, her being an overthinker & getting a little jealous, pda, 18+ mdni!

wc: 2.3k 

sooo this is the last part! (might write some extras but i make no promises) & just wanted to say how much i appreciate everyone who reads my stuff. the first part was my first piece of writing on this blog and i was overjoyed by the warm welcome and all the kind comments, asks & reblogs (nothing goes unnoticed by me!) so thank u so so much for being so lovely <33

series masterlist

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

It’s been exactly two weeks since she came to terms with the fact that she’s in love with him.

She hasn’t been able to sleep all that well and has tried her very best to avoid Rafe, albeit fruitlessly since he insists on driving her home every day and on top of that, often invites himself over or asks her to stay the night at his— not accepting her excuses about being tired and having to wake up early.   

“Why don’t we jus’…be tired ‘n wake up early together then?” his grin is playful. And how is she meant to refuse that?  

And if everything he does wasn’t already suffocating her enough, he’s now helping with the renovation of the cafe since her boss wanted to expand the business; turn the small coffee shop into a bigger one in hopes of more space for new tables and seats, because the amount of clients they got was beginning to be too much for everyone to comfortably enjoy their stay. 

Therefore, she now has to work in the same building as him every single day because (unfortunately) the renovation work isn’t disturbing the current cafe from running nor decreasing the number of customers with a sweet tooth or a craving for their usual morning coffee.   

And none of this would be a problem, if Rafe wasn’t walking around all sweaty and dusty, biceps bulging whenever he’d lift wooden planks over his shoulder or carry around different equipment— looking as attractive as ever.

And with these newfound lovey-dovey feelings trying to break through the surface, she doesn’t know how she’s supposed to stop herself from ogling him or keep her rapid heartbeats to herself whenever he wanders over for a chat on his breaks. She tries to act as normal as she can, but she can tell that he’s starting to pick up on her excessive rambling and stuttering, flushed cheeks and anxious fingers fixing her hair every two seconds whenever he’s talking to her.  

In fact, she’s certain he can see right through her, knows that she’s hiding something. She can practically see how he wants to bring it up more often than not, but seemingly hasn’t found the right way to approach the subject yet, and she can sense that she’s running out of time— can’t tolerate lying to him for much longer.   

She’s been thinking this whole thing through over and over again, to the point of her head hurting while she bakes Rafe’s favorite lemon raspberry cookies as a distraction and because he’s been working so hard she wants to surprise him; see the soft smile that makes the whole world glitter whenever he graces her with it.  

And she wants to tell him, wants him to know how deeply she feels for him; how much she appreciates him but every time she tries to open her mouth, the words seem to evaporate before they’ve even begun to sprout on her nervous tongue.

Because what if he doesn’t feel the same way? What if this is all just a casual thing for him and she’s making it into something more than it is? These bleak thoughts turn her mood sour— a pout forming on her lips as she concentrates on topping the flamingo pink icing with fresh blueberries, adding the final touches to their most popular vanilla cupcakes.

And as she’s taking Rafe’s cookies out the oven, she comes to the conclusion that she really only has two options; she either tells him or she doesn’t.

If she tells him, there’s a very high possibility that he looks at her with a crease between his brows and words about not wanting for this to be anything serious hitting her against the face. And if she doesn’t, then…well she doesn’t really have anything to lose, does she? Except maybe the what ifs haunting her for the rest of eternity.   

She tries to get rid of the tormenting thoughts with a shake of her head as she sets the cookies off to cool down, and begins to place the finished cupcakes onto the display counter, trying her hardest to just forget about it all.  

- - - - - - - - - - - - -  

Later that day, when Rafe is contently munching on the cookies she plated for him and happily distracting her from work, someone approaches the counter; a girl with glossy lips and shiny hair.   

“Hi! Could I please get a mango matcha latte?” her eyes are as green as grass as she places her order.  

“Of course, would you like it with ice or no ice?”   

“With ice, please.”

“Coming right up,” she gives the girl a polite smile when her payment goes through.   

“You’re working on the renovation?” the girl’s attention then turns towards Rafe, making Y/N’s gaze flicker over to them as she puts blended mango into the bottom of a tall glass.  

“Yeah, the cafe’s gon’ be twice as big as it’s now,” he drawls, putting the half-eaten baked good down.   

“That’s so cool. You know, I’ve always wondered how construction workers are so strong. Do you go to the gym a lot?” a saccharine voice reaches Y/N’s ears, making her brows furrow while she measures the right amount of matcha powder, trying to appear nonchalant.   

“Uh, yeah, yeah, also think m’workdays sometimes count as workouts,” he scratches the back of his head as she lets out a giggle. It wasn’t that funny, Y/N thinks with a roll of her eyes.   

“Hey, I was actually wondering if maybe you’d wanna hang out sometime? Could give you my number?”   

Something muddy swirls in her stomach in response to the girl’s straightforward question. She doesn’t particularly appreciate the fact that she’s blatantly hitting on Rafe right in front of her, even if she’s painfully aware that they’re not together and the girl probably assumed they were just friends, which they are.  

However, she can’t prevent herself from turning grumpy from the mere notion of him being interested in someone else. After all, the girl is stunning and she wouldn’t really blame him if he wanted to at least consider her offer.  

“Uh, m’actually not available right now,” he offers an apologetic smile when the girl’s shoulders slump.   

“No? That’s a shame. Well, let me know when that changes?” she gives him a flirty smile that makes Y/N quietly scoff as she pours the milk into the mix.  

“S’not changing anytime soon,” she mutters under her breath, making both of their heads turn towards her.   

Fuck, did she really say that out loud?  

“Sorry?” the girl asks, muted jade settling on her suddenly tense form.

“Oh, um— jus’ that…here’s your drink,” she peeps out in her state of embarrassment, feeling Rafe’s eyes burning into the side of her face as she sticks a paper straw into the beverage; the ice cubes clinking together when she hands it out to her.

“Right, thanks,” she says before looking over to Rafe once more, seemingly expecting him to give her an answer of his own.  

“Uh…yeah, what she said. Not changin’ anytime soon,” his grin is wide, making the girl’s cheeks flush.  

And when it’s just the two of them again, she flits her eyes down— busying herself with a wooden container of tea bags she’s trying to organize, unable to face him.  

“What was, uh…what was that about?” his tone is taunting, an annoying smirk playing on his features.  

“Nothing,” she quickly dismisses, avoiding his gaze.  

“Nothin’? You’re tellin’ me you weren’t just real fuckin’ jealous two seconds ago?”  

“N—no,” she can’t even convince herself with the pitiful denial.  

“Don’t worry, sweetheart, m’all yours, alright?” he chuckles as he stuffs the rest of the cookie into his mouth.  

“How did you know I jus’ was cravin’ these?” he asks around the mouthful as she tries to brush aside the sudden tingle in her ribcage.   

- - - - - - - - - - - - -  

A few days later, when her shift is coming to an end, her other coworker already beginning to take orders and telling her she’s free to go, she drags Rafe behind the counter and practically forces him to taste test a new recipe she’s tried out; a walnut carrot cake with lime buttercream. 

“Wow, this is…amazing. The sourness in the frosting is so good,” his voice is muffled by his chewing and her heart warms in response to his commentary, never one to shy away from showering her in compliments.  

“You think so? I actually added the lime jus’ cause I know how much you like citrus fruits so, m’really glad you like it,” she beams at him.  

“Yeah? Made this jus’ for me, huh? Can I ask why m’gettin’ this special treatment all of a sudden?” his tone is playful, tongue licking over his bottom lip to clean up the bit of icing lingering there.   

“Well, cause I love you and—” she blurts out before her entire body tenses; mouth hanging open in shock and wide eyes slowly moving to look at him, trying to verify whether he heard it or not. Of course he did. She wasn’t exactly quiet now, was she?   

“You…you love me?” he raises his brows in surprise.  

“Uh…I— I didn’t mean to…I mean, you probably don’t feel the same so doesn’t really matter. Just— um...jus’ forget I said that. I don’t know why I—”   

“What are you talkin’ about? You think I spend most of my time with you cause I…what? Dislike you? You can be so silly sometimes, you know?” he scoffs, setting the golden fork down on the porcelain plate.  

She stays silent. 

“What I’m sayin’ is that m’obsessed with you. I mean, you’re even in my fuckin’ dreams, right? But listen, love has always been a little, uh, tricky for me cause m’relationship with my family has always been, uh, complicated? But if me wantin’ to spend every second of my day with you means I love you too, then, shit, maybe I do. But I need some time before I can really say that shit, you get that?” his words are honest and raw and she thinks her rattling heart is going to beat out of her chest.  

“I— um…yeah, of course. Take all the time you need,” she finally manages out.  

“Hey, c’mere,” he says before he’s practically dragging her dumbfounded form into his embrace; — beefy arms pulling her flush against his chest.  

“I mean, we’re basically already datin’ at this point, no? Wasn’t sure how to make it official without freakin’ you out but since you love me, think you’re all good, yeah?” 

She mumbles something incoherent in response.  

“So wanna be my little girlfriend or what?” he murmurs into her hair.  

“I— of course I do,” she speaks against his shirt.   

“Yeah?”   

“Mhm,” she hums before he tucks an index finger under her chin and lifts her face to look up at him—his thumb toying with her bottom lip before he’s leaning down and smearing a sloppy kiss against her mouth.   

“Shit, you’re so adorable, jus’ wanna swallow you whole sometimes,” he murmurs with a soft smile tugging at his lips and eyes twinkling with something syrupy in them.   

“I love you,” she mumbles, almost inaudible; words still too tender to consciously say out loud.   

“Say it again,” he practically demands.  

“Um…I love you,” her voice is nearly a whisper.  

“What was that? Think you can say it a little louder?” he teases.   

“Rafe, stop…you’re embarrassing me,” she whines, cheeks heating up.

“No, m’not. Jus’ wanna hear you say it,” his smirk is all big and smug and it makes her huff.  

“ILOVEYOU, okay?” the words mesh together like fluffy clouds in the sky and her volume is louder than he’s probably ever heard it, causing a couple of curious heads to turn and the lively chatter around them to quiet down some.   

“Yeah? You guys heard that? She LOVES me,” he’s nearly shouting, looking around with a stupid grin on his face— making her flush and hide behind her hands as a few customers cheerfully titter in entertainment.  

“Congrats, dude!” someone even yells.

“Oh my god, Rafe. Why would you do that?” her mortified eyes widen as she crouches down; trying to find shelter behind the pale-yellow counter. “M’never leaving my house again,” she complains with a glare.   

However, he doesn’t seem all that bothered by the whole thing, simply chuckling with dimples denting his cheeks— the light-hearted sound making her stomach flutter despite the humiliation crawling up her spine and making her want to vanish into the cracks on the floorboards.   

“Of course you are, m’your boyfriend now which means m’takin’ you out on a date tomorrow, yeah?” he lifts her up with a grip on her waist, pulling her flush against him while his fingertips slip underneath the hem of her shirt, smoothing over her bare stomach and making her let out a squeak.  

Then, he’s grasping her jaw in one hand and pressing his mouth on hers again— her protests withering away like a dead rose when he slips his tongue past the seam of her lips, dragging out an involuntary whimper from her, before she pulls away and hides her face in his chest when she feels multiple pairs of eyes staring at them.  

“Rafe, can we just go already?” she pleads, voice small before he’s guiding her out of the coffee shop; his hand resting on the small of her back and calming her down some. 

And despite the little scene he caused, she thinks she might just be the happiest girl on the island as he helps her climb into his truck with a honeyed kiss warming the apple of her cheek.

[pretty-little-mind33]

James Potter x best friend!fem!reader

Summary: You and James stumble upon an ancient book of spells rumored to enhance pleasure.

Genre: SMUT (nsfm) + hurt and comfort

Warnings: sex while under an 'aphrodisiac' of some kind, unprotected sex, penetration, cock warming, quickie, public (not seen by anyone), riding, insecurities, porn with plot ✨

JAMES POTTER MASTERLIST

"Someone is gonna see us," you whisper, feeling James Potter's hand in yours, his thumb occasionally soothing circles over your palm as you stumble in the dark corridors under his invisibility cloak.

"That's the point of the cloak, love," James answers, holding in a laugh as he guides you towards the entrance to the library and he mutters the spell for the lock as you hold your breath. 

"Hear us then," you counter, unconsciously squeezing his hand for reassurance. 

James doesn't hesitate to return the squeeze and he smiles when the lock opens with a click. He opens the door and you both squeeze inside.

Once the door shuts behind you, James drops the cloak and you let out a shaky exhale, adjusting your hair. The room is dark and it smells like dust. You hold in a cough as James mutters, "Lumos," and then grins like he'd gone mad.

"Told ya we'd be fine," he sing-songs and kicks your shoe in a playful manner as he walks by you to look at all the restricted books. 

You groan and take out your wand, walking along the shelves as you pick up dust with your index. "Are you looking for something in particular?" you ask, your voice low as you read the names of books, realizing just how dangerous this could become.

James nods. "Yeah, I bet Sirius I could find "Moste Potente Potions" so we could make some Polyjuice potion," he says casually. 

"And you needed me, why?!" you turn to glare at your best friend. 

James looks at you with a smile. "Didn't really. I'just like your company."  

You bite the inside of your cheek and go back to looking at the books. "Polyjuice is dangerous, James. Are you sure you want to meddle with that?"

James nods again and he hums, "I'm top of the class in Potions, I'm sure I can handle some Polyjuice." He sounds smug and you roll your eyes at his behavior.

James is reckless and impulsive and honestly, you're worried about him making that potion with his friends. You don't dare bring it up, because who are you to tell James what to do? You aren't his girlfriend or anything—

"Woah," James's voice interrupts your thoughts as he walks over to you. You turn, standing in front of him as he flips the pages of some old dusty book. "These spells are ancient—and completely forbidden—" he mutters, his eyes round with excitement. 

You tilt your head and read the title; "Antiqua Cantus." Ancient Spells.

"Bloody Hell, there's a pleasure-enhancing spell–like a sexual thing—" James exclaims and holds the book open to you so you can see. You walk over and stand next to him, looking over his shoulder at the spell. James begins to recite the spell and you read along, entranced by the words on the worn-out parchment.

By moonlight's glow and stars above, 

Ignite the flames of lustful love. 

Let passion's heat our bodies bind,

In ecstasy, our souls combined.

Whisper soft this sacred plea,

Unleash our wildest fantasy.

Once he's finished, you glance around the page and frown. "Shit." You grab the book from James and then look up at him with wide eyes, "James, this is a wandless spell!" you whisper and his eyes widen like yours did as he realizes what happened. 

He grabs the book from you and reads the instructions. His shoulders relax and he points to the small print— "It says the participants must have already existing feelings for this to work," he mumbles and looks up at you, smiling reassuringly and unsure all the same. "So—"

"Yeah—" you whisper, stepping away from him.

"I feel fine," James starts.

"I do too," you say, feeling completely normal. 

James shuts the book with a slam and his smile returns. "Thing is probably too old to work, anyways," he says confidently. You nod, less confident than he is but you push those worries down. 

He doesn't like you like that—so why would it work?

Once James finally finds the book he's looking for, you both cram under the cloak and you make your way back to the dorm. You ignore the feeling, but your head feels fuzzier than it should. Every brush on James's arm against yours sends shivers up your spine. You're extra aware of how he smells and it's intoxicating. You bite your lip, hoping the pain will distract you from the pleasure building. 

The spell. 

James looks normal. He's even humming the Hogwarts song under his breath, his eyes trained forward as you make it to the Common Room. It feels so unfair—that he's fine and your stomach twists with butterflies as your nipples harden painfully against your bra. 

It isn't fair. 

As soon as you have the chance, you pull away from James and sit on the couch, pressing your thighs together. You glance up at the stairs to the girl's dorms, wondering if you should run up and take a cold shower to quench the ache.

"Hey, you okay?" James asks, folding up the cloak as he looks you over.

Bloody fuck, his voice. 

"Mhmm," you nod, focusing your attention on anything but how turned on you are or how hot James sounds and looks. How much you want his lips on yours. 

You clench your thighs again, nervously pressing your hands in between them and your breath hitches when James sits next to you, his hand flat on your thigh. You inhale. 

"Are you sure?" he asks, looking at you behind his glasses with a look that makes you want to pounce on him. This is so humiliating. You move your thigh so his hand slips onto the couch and James's frown deepens. "Hey," he whispers again, "What's happened?"

You feel like your entire body is on fire. You need to touch yourself or throw yourself out a window—you can't make up your mind.

"The stupid spell—" you say, your voice soft as you avoid his gaze and stare at your knees, feeling your hands shake. "it's working and I- I can't handle it, James," 

He doesn't answer for a moment until you hear a familiar laugh. "Oh, darling," he says, his hand finding your chin as he turns your head around, grinning. "Look at me." 

You do so but he shakes his head, his eyes shimmering. "No. Look at me," he whispers, his voice husky and deep and your eyes widen when you understand what he means. Your gaze falls from his eyes to the painful-looking bulge tenting his trousers and you inhale sharply, the sight causing your mind to haze over. How had you missed this!?

"Look at what it's done to me, love," James finishes as his thumb strokes your cheek. "We really messed up this time, didn't we?" he hums.

"You messed up," you whisper, leaning into his touch. Thank Merlin no one is in the Common Room at this hour because your desperation is embarrassing.

"I messed up," James says with a strained smirk and he twirls some of your hair in his fingers. "Can I make it up to you, darling? Can I make the ache go away?"

James knows this is wrong. You're both under some kind of sexually enhancing spell—this is so many shades of messed up. Still, his heart and dick yearn for you. Somehow, he's managed to hide it well, most likely because he'd had experience in that department—James was constantly turned on to some level when he was around you. He can't help himself. 

"H-how?" you ask, the idea of giving in to the desires not even crossing your mind. 

James smirks, looking at you as his glasses fall down his nose. He pats his thigh. You look down, your eyes widening. You shouldn't. This is wrong. Still, your body responds to him without your brain's permission as you lift yourself to straddle his lap. Your skirt bunches up your thighs as your arms wrap around James's shoulder. You gasp for air at how sensitive you are and you can't look him in the eye.

You can feel him hard and needy against you and you swallow. 

"Look at me," James whispers once more, his voice husky and deep as his hands grip your hips and he moves you up and down his trousers. You whine and bury your face in the crook of his neck, your skin clammy and flushed from need. 

Suddenly the movements stop and your grip tightens around his shoulders. 

"Look at me," he says again, lips pressed to your ear as he sounds as desperate as you are. "O-or I'll stop," he threatens, not sounding convincing considering the spell is starting to hit him hard and he's about ready to come in his trousers. 

You pull away, looking at him as your mind buzzes and you search his eyes for some hint that you both need to stop this. You see none so you say, your voice strained, "James. Fucking need you, please."

You lift your hips, finding his zipper and fumbling with his trousers as you push aside your panties. It's rushed and sweaty and not at all romantic like you'd planned—not to mention public. You pray everyone else is asleep and won't walk in on you sitting on your best friend's cock.  

With a moan, you press down and he slides in easily. "Shit, you're so wet," James mumbles as he kisses your neck, holding you close as his cock twitches inside you. You both don't even think of the fact he's not wearing a condom or anything. You're too lost in the pleasure for any rational thoughts.

"Fuck," you groan, keeping him inside you without movement for a while. You hold him as close as possible, needing him. Needing his warmth.

James groans, his eyes shut in pleasure as he holds himself back from fucking you roughly. He's going to explode at any moment if he doesn't feel you move. "Y/n," he warns, his hands tightening even more on your poor hips. 

You take that as an invitation and you move, your movements slow and languid in the beginning, feeling every pull and stretch and you can't tell if James's cock just feels so much better than any others you've been with, or if the spell is messing with you. 

Perhaps it's a little of both. 

"Bloody hell," James grunts, losing control, as he moves you with him, his hips snapping up into you. You gasp, falling onto his shoulder as you hold him even closer, the pleasure almost unbearable.

You don't know if it's been hours or mere minutes but once James spills himself into you, his hands around your back as he continues to move your body to his liking, you can't hold it in and your mouth opens, a silent moan catching you by surprise as you finish around him. You feel weak and fuzzy almost instantly as if the string master that kept you aware suddenly cut you loose. 

James's hand soothingly runs in your hair as he pants, his eyes shut. The only sound you can hear is your and James' ragged breaths and all you can smell is the burnt-out firewood and sex. You feel much calmer now as your brain tries to catch up with the events that just transpired, and when it does your blood runs cold.

You sit up, looking down at your best friend. He's looking at you, not daring to speak. You'd just fucked him with such want and need and yet all you can think about when you look at him is how you did all that without knowing the feeling of his lips on yours.

Shame burns your skin and you scramble off him, the feeling of his cock leaving from inside you makes you wince as you hold in all the emotions that threaten to overwhelm you. 

"Hey," James whispers, his hand reaching for yours as he stops you from running away, standing up in the process so he's looking at you. He drops your hand and, clearly embarrassed, tucks himself back inside his trousers. You stare at him, feeling dirty from an experience you'd wished had been amazing. 

And it was more than amazing if you were honest with yourself. You'd never been more satisfied in your life, but it also wasn't what you'd really wanted. Was it too cliché to want roses and candles? A steamy kiss and some swoon-worthy romantic confession? 

Instead, you'd gotten love bites and finger dents.

"What's going on in your head?" James's voice interrupts your thoughts as he moves closer. 

"Hmm?"

"Darling, come on, please talk to me," he insists, wanting to know exactly what you're feeling so he can understand his own feelings. 

You cover your face with your hands, head dipping down as your body finally calms down from the surplus of hormones you've experienced.

"We shouldn't have done that, James—I–it was wrong," your voice fades as his hands find your wrists and he pulls them down. He looks hurt, sad, and guilty all in one emotion painted on his handsome face. 

"Do you regret it?" he asks, his voice wavering. 

You open your mouth to say yes but hold yourself back. It's more complicated than that. "I don't know– I just didn't think it would happen like this and—we didn't even kiss," you ramble, avoiding looking at him. You should have been looking because then you could have seen his next move coming.

James gently takes your cheeks in his hands, pulling you into him so he can kiss your lips. For something surprising, it isn't forceful at all. He doesn't kiss you longer than a few seconds and he doesn't use his tongue. He's delicate with you, making sure he isn't crossing any boundaries.

When he moves away, your eyes are open and you're silent for a moment. Then, you grab his collar and pull him in, crashing your lips onto his. You kiss him like he's your last meal on earth--like you've been starved of him. He feels so good pressed against you, his hands in your hair and then your cheeks again, and then your waist. You feel dizzy and you pull away. Your lips feel swollen and love-bitten and you're a flustered mess.

James continues to hold you close as he presses his forehead to yours, his thumb rubbing your waist. "You're amazing," he speaks so softly as a faint smile graces his lips. 

"Yeah?"

"Yeah. I don't tell you enough, do I?" James smiles and tilts his head. He leans in and kisses your neck. "You're amazing—so wonderful," he inhales your scent but doesn't comment on it and a shiver runs up your spine. 

"I– we–" You want to bring up the fact you had sex with him but James puts his finger on your lips, his thumb rubbing under your chin and he shakes his head. 

"Stop worrying so much, lovely. It's okay. I promise it's okay. I didn't hurt you did I?"

You shake your head and James's smile turns into a grin.

"Good. So we're okay, hm?" he looks at you expectantly. "You're still my best friend."

Your heart thumps loudly in your ears. Best friends. "Y-yeah, you're still my best friend, Jamie," you say, your voice strained as you smile reluctantly. 

You want to be so much more than best friends.

James can sense your hesitation and he takes a breath. "W-would you want to try to be more than just friends, Y/n?" he pauses, and then his voice picks up, "and I'm not saying that because we just fucked. No. I'm saying this because I'm hopelessly in love with you and I think you love me too. You kissed me like you love me. I want to try to make this work."

You feel like the world is crashing around you. Your skin feels clammy and your head is dizzy. Still, an unfamiliar warmth spreads all around you. You feel blissful and you reach for James's hand, needing to hold him. He lets you hold his hand and he intertwines his fingers into yours. He looks nervous like he's expecting a rejection.  

"I do love you, James. So much. I want to try this too," you whisper, looking at him with a shy smile. 

James's grin widens and he picks you up, spinning you around as he keeps you close when your feet touch the ground again. "I'll do right by you, my love," he whispers in your ear and you hold your hands behind his neck. 

"So no more late-night trips to the restricted sections and trying old, dangerous, spells?" you tease.

James nips at your ear. "I kinda liked this one."

You laugh and swat his pec, your hand trailing down his chest as you fist his shirt and look up at him with a mockingly stern look. "Don't be a smartass, you wanker."

James returns your laugh and kisses behind your ear. "No more trips to the restricted section and trying old dangerous spells. Pink swear."

You pull away and hold out your pinky, which he takes and you grin. 

"We can still have sex though, hm. We don't need a spell to do that, right?" he teases but the question almost sounds serious. 

You roll your eyes. "James."

"I'm just making sure!" 

[alm0ndm1lk1]

Truth or Dare

Jinx x F! Reader

Warning: NSFW Minor DNI, Smoking, Freaky deaky stuff, Truth or Dare

Summary: You and Jinx are having a sleepover while there has been tension building between you both with friendly game of Truth or Dare.

Author note: This was heavily proofread so I hope you all enjoy ⭐️ #RunningoffofRedbulls

˚₊‧ა ☆ ໒꒱ ‧₊˚

“Can you Roll?” You asked Jinx, showing her the bag of “goodies” you received from Ekko.

“Yea, I can. Just go to my desk and grab my kit,” She tells you. You and Jinx planned to have a sleepover over at Jinx’s place. It’s turned into a normal routine between the two of you since Jinx enjoys your presence and vice versa. Isha is over at Sevika’s for the night so you and Jinx have the place to themselves - after a while of not having one on one time.

As you are searching Jinx’s desk, you couldn’t find her kit, which had you checking inside each of her drawers. In the second drawer, you open you find something quite… interesting.

“Jinx, can you come over here,” You choke out. Jinx walks over and find you looking at her blue and black strap designed with light blue accents. “Shit, I should’ve told you my kit’s in the third drawer,” She chuckled at your embarrassed expression.

Jinx moves over your body and opens the third drawer open where she pulls out her metal kit that has her rolling paper and tray, a lighter, and a grinder. “Is everything okay toots?” She whispers in your ear, moving her hand to your waist as she rest her head on your shoulder. Your breath hitches from her cold hands, “Yeah, I’m fine. I just never knew you owned one of those,” You manage to get out, “So spill. Who is it for?”

Jinx moves from behind you sliding her kit in her hand as she hums, “Dunno. Just decided to have it, that’s it. Or it might be for someone who commissioned me. You think I’m some pervert?” She then raises her eyebrow, “…or do you want me to test it out on you?” She says in a teasing tone.

You quickly respond, “Hmm I don’t know, what if you had Violet test it with Caitlyn?” The air between you two goes dead silent for a beat, and Jinx’s face twitches slightly—caught off guard by your complete lack of awareness.

Her grin falls as she processes what you just said, and then, with a laugh that feels more like a snort, she opens her rolling kit while in mock exasperation. "Oh, sweetie," she says, her voice dripping with playful amusement, "I was totally not talking about that." She gives you a sideways glance, her smile returning, but now there’s a glimmer of something more devilish in her eyes.

You stare at her, blinking in confusion, and she can’t help but laugh again.

“Alright, alright, God you are so innocent when you wanna be,” she finally says. She starts rolling the blunt shaking her head. “I’ll just… leave it to your wild imagination.”

You change the conversation and make plans about later with Jinx until she finishes rolling the blunt and glances up at you, her blue eyes glinting with mischief. "All done," she says, holding the freshly rolled blunt up between her fingers. “You can have the first hit since you rolled it,” You say, with a dismissive hand gesture.

Without missing a beat, Jinx pops the blunt into her mouth, pulls out her lighter, and with a flick she ignites the end. She takes a long drag, her chest rising as she inhales deeply, savoring the taste. After a moment, she exhales a thick plume of smoke and then looks at you with a mischievous grin.

"Come over here, toots," she says, her voice low.

You blink, not thinking twice, and crawl over to where Jinx is lounging on the couch. Your movements are casual, but to Jinx, they feel like slow, deliberate torture. She watches you with narrowed eyes, a spark of something dangerous flickering in her gaze. “How does she not know?” Jinx thinks to herself, a sense of confusion in her chest. She's been around you enough to know how comfortable you are with her—how you’ve never judged her, always accepting her for who she really is.

Bur despite all that, Jinx finds herself fighting the urge to close the distance between you two in a way that goes beyond friendly banter. You don’t even realize how you drive her mad. “How can she be so oblivious?” she thinks with a mix of frustration and desire. She’s always been protective of you, but it goes beyond just friendship. She’d never admit it out loud, but the way you look at her—so trusting, so pure. You’re so precious to her, and the idea of anyone harming you—of anyone taking advantage of that innocence— she would destroy anyone who dared hurt you, without a second thought.

Jinx’s chest tightens as she watches you settle closer to her, unaware of the storm swirling inside her. You’ve shown her kindness when others only saw her chaos, and she wants to keep you safe from all the bad people in the world who would take advantage of your trusting nature. She wishes she could protect you from everything, from all the hurt and heartbreak that life could throw your way. And, deep down, she knows she’d do whatever it takes to keep you from ever feeling that pain.

Jinx breaks out of her thoughts when she hears you whining looking up at her, “Jinx, can I take a hit?” Your lips are so pouty and cheeks are so flushed, Jinx just wants to have fun with you a bit. “Hmm, I don’t know if I want to share.”

You furrow your eyebrows, hopping in her lap and straddling her thigh— you bury your face into her shoulder and cry into her. “I was the one who got these. You’re so unfair,” You protest as Jinx takes another puff, exhaling softly. “I’m not sure you deserve it… convince me.”

You look down and grip her shoulders slowly bouncing on her thigh, “Please Jinx, I will make it up to you and we can do whatever you want for the rest of the night,” Your voice dips slightly, and though you might not realize it, the quiet sincerity behind your words only adds to the tension between you two. Jinx feels her pulse quicken, but she hides it behind a playful smirk. “Okay fine, here.” She pops the blunt into your mouth and you take a hit, blowing out a big ball of smoke. You hug Jinx, saying happily, “Thank youuu!”

Time passes and you both of y’all take hits off the blunt until it was all gone. Afterwards, you both decided to take your showers and put on your pajamas. Jinx has on a white tank top with her Cookie Monster pajama pants, while you had on a baby pink and black nightgown that cupped your soft breast as it fell to your upper thigh.

Jinx is sitting on the couch, her eyes following you as you move around the room. The moment you step into view, she takes her time looking you up and down. Her gaze lingers longer than usual, her lips curling into a playful smirk. "Hmm, cute," she murmurs, her voice low, but playful. She walks over to you and gently cups your chin in her hand, her touch soft but sending a spark of electricity through you. There’s a shift in the air, and Jinx seems to sense it, her eyes darkening slightly as her fingers traces your jaw.

She giggles, teasing, "So," she starts, her voice low, “what was that promise you were going to make up to me?” Her eyebrow raises, her playful tone mixing with something more calculating as she takes a small step closer.

You, completely oblivious to the shift in atmosphere, smile brightly, hopping up in excitement. “Oh, I’m so glad you asked!” You rush to the kitchen, “I got your favorite!” you call out over your shoulder, grabbing the tub of vanilla ice cream from the freezer and rushing back to the counter. You grab the toppings from your bag — whipped cream, chocolate syrup, and a jar of cherries. You're not aware of how Jinx's eyes never leaving you as you move.

You assemble the perfect bowl—two scoops of vanilla ice cream, topped with a mountain of whipped cream, a drizzle of chocolate syrup, and a cherry on top. You carry the bowl to the couch, setting it down between you both. You hand Jinx a spoon, smiling brightly. “Here, hope you enjoy!”

Jinx takes the spoon, and as she digs into the ice cream, she savors the flavor slowly, clearly enjoying it more than she lets on. She nods approvingly, but there’s a certain glint in her eyes that you don’t pick up on. “This is so delicious, sweetness,” she chirps, her voice teasing but also carrying a note of something else. You don’t notice the way she says sweetness, how the word rolls off her tongue, hinting at something deeper.

As you both continue eating, the ice cream quickly disappearing, Jinx suddenly breaks the silence. Her voice drops a little, but it’s still playful. “Do you wanna play a game?” she asks, her words laced with a subtle tension that you completely miss.

You hum in response, turning to her with a smile. “Sure, what are we playing?”

Jinx scoots closer, her body language shifting. She leans in, her breath warm against your ear as she whispers, “Truth or Dare.” Her voice is thick with mischief, but your brain processes it as nothing more than the next fun game for the night. You blink, tilting your head, completely unaware of the weight behind her words. “Oh, okay! Sounds fun,” you say, your tone bright and excited.

˚₊‧ა ☆ ໒꒱ ‧₊˚

At first, the game seemed harmless—questions like “Tell an embarrassing story,” “Have you ever broken a law?”, and “Send a random person a crazy text.” But as the night wore on, the questions grew more personal, more daring. “What’s your non-sexual turn on?” “Give me a hickey”, “Show me your favorite sex position.”

Now here you are on top of Jinx, and your head’s dizzy. Your whole body is feeling hot as you’re whining in Jinx’s lap. Jinx is groaning under you, her hand traveling up and gripping your hip to move your body against her clothed crotch. She rasps in your ear, “I would’ve never knew someone this innocent would do this with other girls... you dirty girl.” She quickly travels her hand under your nightgown to your ass, giving it a light smack and making you silently squeal into her chest. “How many girls had you do this to them? Huh? I bet there are many people that want a piece of you. You’re so cute, so innocent, ‘m almost sure I can make you do whatever I want because deep down you will chase that pleasure like a needy slut.”

You cry into Jinx’s shoulder gripping onto her blue locks for dear life, grinding your body harder and faster against Jinx. You look up to Jinx, cupping her face, looking deep into her eyes. Both of your lips are inches apart from each other. Before you can kiss her, Jinx puts her pink fingernail against your plump lips, “Nuh-uh toots.. your time is up.” She pats the side of your thigh signaling you to get off. You move off of Jinx, crawling back to your spot across from her while Jinx flashes a look at your ass. You sit in your spot looking down, while your hands trap between your legs to lessen the dull hum you’re feeling between your thighs.

“Dare,” Jinx practically purrs, giving you a devilish smile. You meekly ask, “Kiss me.”Jinx moves over to you, holding your chin in her hand as she caresses your soft skin. Her thumb toys with your bottom lip, slowly moving her lips to yours teasingly. “Please Jinx…” You whine softly, and Jinx closes the gap between you both, giving you a sweet but hungry kiss. You moan softly into the kiss. You needed her so bad.

Jinx pushes you back on the couch, needing to feel more of you as her mouth travels down your neck, creating more marks along with the ones she decorated your neck with before. Suddenly, she stops and moves back to her spot. Flashing you a sickly sweet grin, she looks at you. “So, what’ll it be, Truth or Dare?” At this point, you were so desperate and wanted to feel her more. You didn’t even think about what possible outcome could come out— “Dare,” You answered, absolutely certain with your choice.

“Grab the whipped cream from the fridge and hand it to me.” You scurried over to the fridge, grabbing the whipped cream… you had no clue what she was planning in that head of hers. That was one thing about Jinx, you never knew her next move. You walk over to her, waiting for what scheme she had planned. “Take off your nightgown but keep your panties on,” she demands. You slide the thin straps of the shoulder of your nightgown, it falling to the floor. The cold air hits your skin and as you stand in front of her, you can’t help but feel vulnerable especially since you’re almost nude while she is still fully clothed. Jinx guides you to lay down back flat on the cushion of the couch. “W-What are you going to do?” You manage to choke out. Jinx hums, looking down at your body, “Oh, you’ll see.” She darkly chuckles against you.

Jinx puts the nozzle of the whipped cream against your nipples, making you shudder from the cold hard plastic against your sensitive chest. She presses down and the white cream spreads on your breasts. You whine from the new sensation as the sweet treat is making a mess on your chest, down the valley between your breasts and onto your stomach. Once she finishes her masterpiece, she takes a minute to take It in… you looked so delicious she had to take a mental photograph to refer back to. “I wish you could see yourself right now. Can’t even believe I’m seeing this right now,” She giggles and dips her head down to your chest and starts attacking your nipple, taking it into her mouth. You shriek from the feeling of her tongue and her sucking hard on your poor chest. “J-Jinx please be gentl- ah!” You cry out loudly. Jinx completely ignores your request, going to the other side giving the same treatment. Her free hand grips your chest, teasing and pinching your nipple.

You feel your bottom half of your body tingle and you didn’t know what to do. All you can do is babble and moan from her mouth latching onto your over-sensitive chest. Once Jinx is finished with you, she lifts you up and all you both can do is giggle. “Sounds like you had a lot of fun,” She teases you. Your head is so hazy from the pleasure. To tease her back, you pick up her sticky hand and put her middle and ring finger in your mouth, sucking the lingering whipped cream off. All Jinx could do was just look at you hungrily as she spreads her slender fingers in your mouth, as your tongue is dancing between them, slightly gagging on her digits. You take your mouth off her fingers as a string of saliva comes off her fingers and onto your chin.

You sigh softly, looking into her eyes with nothing but desire. Jinx then takes a deep breath, “You know what… fuck it.” That’s all she says. She grips your hand and drags you into her room, closing the door for whatever the night has in store. You both knew for sure, you both will take your time with each other.

˚₊‧ა ☆ ໒꒱ ‧₊˚

Part 2 coming soon !! Hope you enjoyed

- Angel 💋

[sirxlla]

I Need You Like Water

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

Warnings: NSFW

Prompt: Friends who shower together

Notes: gender of reader, italics are actions and thoughts.

-With that said it's all under the cut-

Showering with Damian with nothing new especially after a really long night on patrol. Normally, the both of you could barely stand up so having someone else to watch you while you we're showering was something that blossomed out of worry rather than anything else. Tonight, fortunately was not one of those nights but the normality of showering with your best friend was still routine.

Wet skin slipped and slided against itself, yours against his. It had all become overly comfortable and vulnerable. He was so surprisingly kind and soft when no one was around. Damian washed your hair, the bubbles frothing up between his fingers as you leaned back onto him.

"You should be more careful, you can't be taking hits the way you are." The vibration of his voice poured into you from behind. His chest was warm against your back.

"I take the hits so you don't have to." Peering back at him with a bit of a teasing smirk as you bite your lip. You were feeling playful tonight and he was being rather nice. Spinning around, you face twords him looking into his green eyes.

"Can't have my Booty-ful Badass Bestie getting hit cause then I lose my eye candy." You teased and he tried to hide a smile as he tilted your head back to rinse your hair.

"You're trouble, that's all you are and I only keep you around cause you look like a baby kitten but act like a damn cheetah. My Little Trojan Horse." Damian jokes his mouth dipping down to press gentle kisses to the bruise on your cheek, you took it as a opportunity to boldly kiss him. Bringing your lips to his you kissed him softly like a butterfly landing on the delicate flower that is his lips.

Your kiss is soft and careful of his almost fully healed busted lip, your left hand finding his cheek and your other playing with the hair at the nape of his neck.

He groaned as your nails naked through his hair, a secret weakness to such a strong man. His arms wrapped around you, one of his hands moving to your lower back pressing his body into yours.

You could feel his hardness against your leg but didn't think twice of it because it's a natural reaction, it didnt 100% meant he wanted to go any further and unless he actually indicated he wanted to go further you weren't going to push him to.

"If you and I weren't friends I'd have you up against the shower glass." He moaned the words into your lips.

"Us being friends stops us how?" Your mouth partially against his as you spoke.

"Wouldn't it ruin this? Like- complicate this?" His dark wet hair stuck against his forehead, he looked cute as he rubbed your hips absentmindedly.

"No...Not if you don't want it to be...Dami, I- I'm okay if you want less or more or casual. I just want you in my life, okay?" You say as your fingers barely caress his wet jaw. His confidence comes back up quickly as he pushes you against the tile and pins your hands above your head.

"You sure, Amai Tenshi?" He spoke to you in one of his various languages he knew, being his recent favorite Japanese and French. He'd had been calling you "Amai Tenshi" in Japanese and "Mon Cheri" in French a lot more often. It was easy to know what Mon Cheri meant but Amai Tenshi was harder to figure out. You didnt wanna ask cause you didnt want him to get embarressed or stop saying it but you knew in the tone in which he said it, it was sweet.

You responded with a nod and your lips already trying to chase his. He lowered his lips to your neck once more but now he was kissing, sucking and biting much more freely. Your wrists and body were pinned to the cool tile behind you as the shower kept hot water pouring onto you both.

His right hand massaged your breast as his left held your wrists in place while his mouth didnt quit prompting you to moan and lean your head back a bit more if that was possible. Damian's hand slowly moved down your body massaging and squeezing as it moved down to pull your thigh over his hip.

"You're sure?" He asks again, he sorta knew the answer by how you were reacting so far and the heat between your thighs raditating into his skin but he was always thorough.

"Oh my fuckin god, yes." You smiled and pulled your hands from his grasp and grabbed his face pulling his face to yours with need and desire, a clear smile upon your lips.

One of his hands found itself in your soaked hair and the other holding up your thighbas he grinded himself into you. He was needy and felt that same ache for you that you felt for him.

You grinded your wet skin against his, he wanted to make sure you were ready before he slipped in so he guided your body against his and once he knew you were ready he pushed his way in, stretching your walls that was entirely everything but unwelcome. Your lips found his again as he started to push his hips against yours which made a moan leave your lips.

Your hips moved with a slow rhythm, a natural feel to them, following his guidance and meeting his pace. Damian's mouth moved to explore your neck and chest leaving a trail of kisses and bites as he went, not leaving any part untouched.

"You feel so good, Mon Cheri." He groaned into your neck as he placed his head there and breathed in deep, taking in your scent as he moved in and out of you. Your hand moved to hold the back of his head, holding him against your skin encouraging him as you pant and smile.

His hips moved faster, moving a hand down your back and to your ass to squeeze as he guided your hips. You eyes fell closes as you moaned on cloud nine.

You could feel the heat of his body against yours, His hands seemed to be everywhere all at once, pulling and guiding your body to move for him and only him.

"You're mine, Amai Tenshi. Say you're mine. Please." He groaned, pleaded and demanded all at once as he spoke into your neck, his lips finding the sensitive skin there leaving a dark bruise.

His movements became more erratic as your walls fluttered and milked at him, your body craving his touch as you held onto him tightly. Your hands gripped his shoulders, nails digging into his skin trying to pull him closer to you.

"Oh, f-fuck. You're- You're close aren't you?" He groaned his head coming up so his forehead was resting against yours. He said as he looked into your eyes, his gaze holding yours captive in his.

"Yeah- Fu- Fuck, Beloved." you responded as your breath comes out in small gasps as he kept his quick and deep pace. His movements hit you just right, bringing you right to where he wanted you. Calling him "Beloved" was sacred to him and meant the world in his mind. You felt your eyes start to tear up as he hit you just right once more.

"C'mere-" Damian spoke softly gently held your face. He reached down and rubbed your clit, his eyes gazing deeply into yours. He chased his high and wss nearing it with you.

"Relax, I've got you. I'm right here. Come for me." He panted out before his hips deeped their movement against yours, he picked up his pace even more. Damian's lips found yours once more, his tongue slipped into your mouth. He groaned against your lips as he neared the edge, his hands holding yours as he squeezed them, coming as he felt you do as well.

Both of you panting against one another in the now cooling water. Water dripped off the both of you.

"I think the hot water's out." Damian almost laughed as he slowly pulled out.

You groaned as he did so, still trying to catch your breath and keep yourself up, your knees feeling weak and jelly-like. He lowered your thigh and used the showerhead to clean the mess between your thighs before picking you up and taking you to his bed. He laid you down and dried you off.

"You alright, Amai Tenshi?" He said sweetly as he climbed in beside you and pulled you to his front side. You nodded, he had taken ever last little bit of energy you had from crimefighting and used it to it's last drop.

"Get some sleep." He rubbed your thighs lovingly and turned out the lights.

"Do- Do we have to stay friends?" You asked half asleep.

"Let's talk in the morning, okay? Get some sleep" He whispered as he gently kissed the back of your neck.

-> Masterlist <-

[songbirdseung]

sneaky / park sunghoon

where your secret not so secret boyfriend climbs through your window to see you after a long time genre fluff, est. relationship, tsundere bf hoon

it was a little past 10 pm, and you were sitting at your desk, drowning in notes, your room dimly lit by the soft glow of your bedside lamp. you were trying to stay focused, but the exhaustion from your long day was creeping in, making it hard to concentrate. the house was eerily quiet, with your parents having gone to bed hours ago. it wasn’t unusual for you to stay up late working, but tonight felt particularly tedious, like time was dragging.

just as you leaned back in your chair, contemplating whether to call it a night, a faint tapping sound came from the direction of your window. your head shot up, eyebrows furrowed in confusion. the noise came again, a little louder this time. cautiously, you stood up and walked over, pulling back the curtains. your eyes widened in shock when you saw a familiar figure standing on the narrow ledge outside your window—sunghoon, grinning like he hadn’t just risked his life to climb up there.

you immediately opened the window, allowing him to slip inside with a little too much ease. “what the hell are you doing here?” you whisper-yelled, trying to keep your voice down so you didn’t wake your parents. “are you crazy?”

“what does it look like i’m doing? i’m here to see you,” sunghoon replied casually, brushing off his jacket as if it were no big deal.

“yeah, i can see that, but you’re climbing through my window? at 10 pm?” you gave him an incredulous look, shutting the window behind him.

he smirked, clearly amused by your panic. “relax, i’ve done this before. it’s not like your parents are gonna check your room.”

“i don’t care! if they catch you, we’re both dead!” you hissed, crossing your arms. you couldn’t believe he thought sneaking into your room was some normal, everyday thing.

sunghoon just shrugged, kicking off his shoes and making his way to your bed. he flopped down onto it with a dramatic sigh, stretching out like he owned the place. “you’re overreacting. besides, i haven’t seen you in weeks. aren’t you happy to see me?”

you rolled your eyes but felt a flutter of warmth in your chest. sure, you were frustrated, but deep down, you were more than a little excited that he had gone through all this trouble just to see you. “well, yeah, i’m happy to see you, but this isn’t exactly how i imagined it.”

he chuckled, propping himself up on his elbows to look at you. “how did you imagine it then? me walking through your front door with a bouquet of flowers?”

“something like that,” you muttered, still shaking your head at his recklessness. “you really are unbelievable.”

“hey, i’m nothing if not creative,” he said, shooting you a playful wink. “come on, you can’t say this isn’t romantic.”

“it’s something,” you admitted with a small smile, trying to stay mad but failing miserably. “but seriously, what if someone sees you?”

“no one’s gonna see me. i’m practically a ninja,” he teased, making himself more comfortable on your bed. “besides, it’s not like i was gonna just sit at home all night. i had to come see you.”

you let out a sigh, unable to fight the grin forming on your lips. “you’re impossible.”

“and yet, you’re still dating me,” he shot back, his voice full of smugness.

you shook your head, walking over to your desk. “yeah, because i clearly have terrible taste in men.”

“hey, now,” sunghoon said, sitting up on your bed and giving you a mock-offended look. “that’s not what you said the last time we hung out.”

you laughed, glancing over your shoulder at him. “okay, maybe not, but that doesn’t mean you’re off the hook for climbing up my window like a maniac.”

“aww, c’mon, don’t be like that,” he pouted, scooting over and patting the space next to him. “i’m here now, so just come cuddle with me. you can finish your work later.”

“sunghoon, i have a paper due,” you protested, even though the idea of snuggling up with him sounded way more appealing than continuing to work.

“you’ve been working all night,” he countered, tugging at your arm until you reluctantly joined him on the bed. “just take a break. you deserve it.”

you sighed but let yourself relax into his embrace, resting your head on his shoulder. “you’re lucky you’re cute, otherwise i’d kick you out right now.”

he let out a low chuckle, wrapping his arms around you. “i know. i’m irresistible.”

you scoffed, shaking your head. “you really don’t give up, do you?”

“nope,” he said, popping the ‘p’ with a smug grin on his face.

the two of you settled into a comfortable silence, your bodies fitting together as if you hadn’t been apart for weeks. you missed this—the simplicity of being close, without the pressures of schedules and distance getting in the way. sunghoon was never the best at showing his emotions, but moments like this, where he went out of his way to be with you, spoke louder than words ever could.

after a while, you glanced up at him. “i still can’t believe you did this. i mean, this isn’t exactly your thing.”

sunghoon smirked down at you, one eyebrow quirking up. “what do you mean by that?”

you gave him a teasing look. “you know, the whole sneaking into my room, rom-com style. usually, you’re more… stoic.”

“are you saying i’m not romantic?” he asked, pretending to be offended.

“i’m just saying it’s new,” you teased, poking his side.

he let out a soft scoff, but there was a hint of amusement in his eyes. “just because i’m not cheesy doesn’t mean i can’t pull off the occasional grand gesture.”

“grand gesture, huh? sneaking through my window at 10 pm counts as a ‘grand gesture’ now?”

“absolutely,” he replied, his tone confident. “i risked my life climbing up here. i’d say that’s pretty impressive.”

you laughed, shaking your head. “okay, okay, i’ll give you that one. but you better not make this a habit.”

“no promises,” he said, his lips curling into a smirk. “i might just have to keep surprising you.”

you rolled your eyes, but the warmth in your chest was undeniable. “fine. but next time, use the front door.”

sunghoon chuckled, pulling you closer. “we’ll see.”

the two of you lay there for a while, the soft hum of the night filling the room. eventually, you broke the comfortable silence, looking up at him with a playful pout. “you know, you still haven’t apologized for giving me a heart attack by showing up out of nowhere.”

“apologized?” sunghoon raised an eyebrow, his tone full of faux innocence. “why would i apologize for being the best boyfriend ever?”

you huffed, nudging him with your elbow. “i think i deserve an apology. and maybe some kisses to make up for it.”

he smirked, leaning down to press a quick kiss to your lips. “fine, but only because you’re so needy.”

you laughed, tugging him back down for another kiss. “sure, hoon. whatever helps you sleep at night.”

he rolled his eyes but didn’t pull away, his lips lingering on yours for a little longer this time. “you’re lucky i like you,” he muttered, though the warmth in his eyes gave away more than he’d ever admit.

“i know,” you teased, pressing one more kiss to his cheek. “and i’m lucky you’re crazy enough to climb through my window just to see me.”

“yeah, well,” he said, his voice dropping to a soft murmur, “i’d do it again in a heartbeat.”

[ducktoo]

Who…are you?

LE SSERAFIM’s Chaewon x Reader

Note: dw…it gets weird at the end lol. It's a long ride as well so get comfortable.

And this will be my final fic of 2024! Thank you everyone for liking my stuff and happy holidays! Will be back for more in mid January!

(this is too lethal-)

The sound of the door slamming shut reverberates through the apartment, rattling the picture frames on the walls. You stare at it for a long moment, your jaw tight and your hands clenching into fists at your sides. Another fight. Another evening ruined.

The quiet that follows is suffocating, a stark contrast to the venomous words Chaewon had thrown at you just minutes ago. You drag yourself to the kitchen, barely registering the cold plates of food still waiting on the counter. The dinner you had spent hours making feels like a cruel joke now. You don’t have the appetite to eat it, let alone the energy to put it away.

This is how it’s been lately. Chaewon’s words, once playful and teasing, have turned into weapons. The sharp remarks and biting sarcasm that used to make you laugh now cut you to the core. She gets angry over the smallest things, and somehow, you always end up being the target.

It wasn’t always this way—or at least, it didn’t feel like it.

You think back to a week ago, when Chaewon had been in one of her moods. You had been trying to fix the kitchen faucet, fumbling with the wrench and getting water sprayed in your face. Chaewon had walked in, leaning casually against the doorframe with that signature smirk on her face.

“Wow,” she had said, crossing her arms. “Didn’t know I was dating a plumber-in-training. Or are you auditioning for a clown role with that water trick?”

You’d forced a laugh, wiping your face with your sleeve. “Very funny, Chae. Want to help?”

She had scoffed, walking over and peering down at the mess you’d made. “Help? Why would I do that when watching you flounder is so much more entertaining?”

You had shot her a look, and she had just grinned, flicking water at you before sauntering off.

Then there was the time she’d decided to pick on your cooking.

You’d spent hours trying to make her favourite spicy rice cakes from scratch, wanting to surprise her after a long day. She had walked into the kitchen, sniffing the air dramatically.

“What’s that smell?” she had asked, wrinkling her nose. “Did something die in here?”

You’d frowned, gesturing to the pot. “It’s tteokbokki. I thought you’d like it.”

She’d leaned over the pot, taking a cautious sniff before pulling back like it had personally offended her. “Are you sure? Because it looks like a science experiment gone wrong.”

You’d tried to laugh it off, but the sting of her words had lingered long after she’d gone back to scrolling on her phone.

The teasing wasn’t just verbal, either. Chaewon had a knack for finding your weak spots and exploiting them with surgical precision. Like the time you’d tripped over the rug in the living room and spilled coffee all over your work papers.

“Nice one, Y/N,” she had said from the couch, barely looking up. “Maybe next time, try walking like a normal human instead of whatever that was.”

“I could use some help cleaning this up,” you’d said, your voice strained as you crouched to pick up the soggy papers.

She had glanced at you over the rim of her coffee mug, a mischievous glint in her eyes. “Or you could just not trip next time. Problem solved.”

Despite all of it, you stayed. You told yourself it was just her personality—that she didn’t mean to hurt you. You convinced yourself that the moments of warmth, rare as they were, made up for the constant jabs. Like when she’d fallen asleep on your shoulder during a movie, her hand unconsciously clutching yours. Or the one time she’d hugged you after you’d had a particularly bad day, whispering, “I’m here,” so softly it almost didn’t feel real.

But those moments were becoming fewer and farther between, buried under the weight of her sharp words and cold demeanour.

The hours tick by as you sit at the dining table, staring at nothing. You don’t even hear the buzz of your phone at first. When it vibrates again, more insistent this time, you snap out of your daze and pick it up. The caller ID shows Kazuha’s name.

“Hello?” Your voice cracks, still hoarse from the argument.

“Y/N,” Kazuha’s voice is urgent, tinged with panic. “You need to come to the hospital. It’s Chaewon.”

Your heart stops. “What happened?”

“She got into an accident. Just… get here as fast as you can.”

-

The hospital is a blur of sterile white walls and harsh fluorescent lights. The antiseptic smell fills your nostrils as you rush through the corridors, searching for the right room. Your chest feels tight, your breaths shallow. Kazuha meets you outside, her face pale and her hands trembling slightly.

“She’s stable,” Kazuha says quickly, trying to reassure you. “But she hit her head pretty hard. The doctors are saying she might have some memory loss.”

“Memory…loss?” The words barely register as you push past her and into the room.

Chaewon lies on the bed, her face pale and peaceful in a way that feels wrong. A bandage is wrapped around her head, a stark white contrast against her dark hair. You approach her slowly, your steps hesitant.

“Chae?” you whisper, sitting down beside her. Her lashes flutter, and she stirs slightly before her eyes open. Relief floods through you as you lean closer.

“You’re awake,” you say, your voice trembling. “Thank god. You’re okay.”

Her eyes blink slowly, focusing on you. For a moment, it feels like everything will be fine. But then her brow furrows, and she tilts her head slightly.

“Who… are you?” she asks, her voice soft but filled with confusion.

You blink, frozen in place. Her words echo in your mind: Who… are you?

Kazuha places a hand on your shoulder, squeezing gently. “Y/N, let’s step outside for a moment. The doctor wants to talk to you.”

Your gaze lingers on Chaewon’s confused expression, and you force a shaky smile. “I’ll be right back,” you whisper, your voice barely audible.

She nods faintly, though you can tell she’s unsure why you’re even here. Her eyes flicker to Kazuha for a brief moment before she leans back against the pillows, exhaustion taking over.

Once you’re out in the hallway, you let out a breath you didn’t realize you were holding. The doctor approaches, a clipboard in hand and a calm but professional demeanour.

“You must be Y/N,” he says. “I’m Dr. Park. I’ve been handling Ms. Kim's case.”

"Ah yea, evening Doc." You nod, gripping the hem of your shirt nervously. “What’s… what’s wrong with her? Is she going to be okay?”

“She’s stable,” he reassures you, glancing at his notes. “But as you might have guessed, the head trauma has caused some memory loss. From our initial tests, it appears she’s unable to recall the past two years.”

“T-two years?” You repeat, your voice trembling. You glance through the small window into her room, watching as Chaewon lies there, her face serene and unaware.

Dr. Park nods. “This type of retrograde amnesia isn’t uncommon in cases like hers. The memories she’s lost may come back over time, or they might not. For now, it’s best not to push her to remember. Stress could make her condition worse.”

“Does she know… does she know anything about me?” you ask hesitantly.

The doctor hesitates. “She remembers people and events prior to the memory gap clearly. But anyone she’s met in the last two years, including you… I’m afraid you’ll be a stranger to her.”

His words hit you harder than you expect, but you nod, trying to keep your expression neutral. “So, what should I do? How do I… help her?”

“Take things slow,” he advises. “Reintroduce yourself as someone here to support her. Let her regain her sense of normalcy first. The rest will come with time, if it’s meant to.”

You thank him quietly, your mind racing. A strange mix of relief and uncertainty bubbles within you. She doesn’t remember the fights, the sharp words, the constant tension—but she also doesn’t remember the good moments, the times when you thought there was still hope.

A part of you feels like this is a reset button, a rare chance to start over. But another part can’t shake the hollow ache of being erased from her life so completely.

You take a steadying breath before walking back into the room. Chaewon’s eyes flit to you as you enter, her expression unreadable.

“Hey,” you say softly, pulling a chair closer to her bedside.

She tilts her head, studying you carefully. “You… You’re Kazuha’s friend, right?”

You glance at Kazuha, who gives you a subtle nod of encouragement from the doorway. Turning back to Chaewon, you force a small smile. “Yeah. I’m just… here to help however I can.”

Chaewon seems to accept this, though the skepticism in her eyes remains. “Thanks, I guess,” she mutters, her voice laced with tiredness.

As she closes her eyes to rest, you lean back in the chair, letting out a slow breath. A small part of you feels lighter than you have in months. No arguments, no cutting remarks—just quiet. Peaceful, even.

But as you watch her, the weight of her blank stare still lingers in your chest. The person you love doesn’t know who you are. And yet, you can’t help but think: maybe this is a chance to show her a version of yourself she could love all over again.

For now, you let the hope settle, hidden behind the mask of quiet sadness you wear for her sake.

-

The week passes in a blur. Chaewon’s recovery is faster than anyone expected. Physically, she’s almost back to normal, but the gap in her memory remains. You watch her adjust to this new reality, navigating her day-to-day life with a mix of determination and frustration.

True to the doctor’s advice, you’ve been patient, reintroducing yourself as a supportive figure in her life without overwhelming her. She accepts your presence without question—polite, a little guarded, but far removed from the sharp-tongued firecracker you’ve known for so long.

Her management team decided it would be best for Chaewon to ease back into her idol activities gradually. You accompany her, not as her partner, but as someone who can help with her day-to-day needs. Kazuha and Sakura are visibly relieved to have you there, knowing how well you understand Chaewon’s habits.

On set, Chaewon is a model of professionalism. She’s diligent, respectful, and surprisingly soft-spoken. When she doesn’t understand something—a choreography move, a filming cue—she asks politely instead of figuring it out on her own like she used to.

“It’s weird,” she admits to you one evening, fiddling with the hem of her sweatshirt. “I don’t remember the last two years, but I still know all the lyrics and choreography. It’s like muscle memory, I guess.”

You smile faintly from where you’re sitting across the room. “That’s a good thing, right? At least it’s one less thing to stress about.”

She nods, her brows furrowing. “I guess. But it feels like I’m walking into someone else’s life. Like, who was I? Was I…” She pauses, searching for the right words. “Was I any good at it?”

You hesitate, a pang of guilt twisting in your chest. She was more than good—she was extraordinary. But her fiery ambition often bled into her personal life, creating the tension that had defined your relationship. Now, all you see is a softer, more vulnerable Chaewon.

“You were great,” you say finally. “Still are.”

Her lips twitch into a small smile, and for once, there’s no sharp remark to follow it.

You’re there in the background, watching as she joined with her members, laughs softly at their jokes, and engages with fans with genuine warmth. It’s such a far cry from the Chaewon who used to tease you mercilessly or snap when she was stressed.

-

At first, it’s disorienting.

One afternoon, as you help her organize a stack of photo cards at a fan sign event, she flashes you a small, almost shy smile.

“Thanks,” she says quietly, her tone devoid of the usual edge you once expected.

You nearly drop the cards. “No problem,” you manage, your voice awkward.

She doesn’t seem to notice, already turning back to greet the next fan with her signature smile.

Another day at their practice room, you accompany her under the pretence of helping her settle back in. The truth is, you just want to see this new side of her in action.

Chaewon seems… different. Lighter. She laughs with her members more, her usual sharp edge replaced by something softer. You watch from the corner of the practice room as she playfully ruffles Eunchae’s hair, earning a squeal of protest from the younger girl.

“Unnie, stop!” Eunchae whines, swatting Chaewon’s hand away.

Chaewon grins, her eyes crinkling in that familiar way that always made your heart skip a beat. “What? I’m just making sure our maknae looks her best.”

The rest of the group chuckles, and you find yourself smiling too. It’s a scene you’d rarely witnessed before, where Chaewon seems completely at ease with herself and those around her.

During their lunch break, Kazuha sits beside you, nudging your shoulder. “You’ve been staring at her a lot.”

You blink, caught off guard. “Have I…?”

Kazuha smirks. “Yeah. You look like you’re seeing a whole new Chaewon.”

You glance at Chaewon, who’s currently chatting animatedly with Sakura and Yunjin. “Maybe I am,” you admit quietly.

Kazuha’s expression softens. “It’s good, right? This version of her?”

You nod. “Yeah. It’s… it’s really good.”

-

By the end of the week, you’re starting to notice the cracks in your own resolve.

You don’t miss the fights—not the arguments or the hurtful words or the way she could turn a perfectly fine evening into a battlefield. What you do miss is the spark.

Chaewon’s teasing, for all its rough edges, had always carried a certain energy. There was a wit to her remarks, a confidence that made everything she said hit just the right spot between infuriating and endearing. You used to catch her smirking at you when she thought you weren’t looking, as if she enjoyed seeing how far she could push your buttons.

Now, she’s… gentle. Easy to be around. And yet, you find yourself yearning for the banter, the fire that kept you on your toes.

It’s a strange contradiction. You enjoy this new version of her, free from the biting remarks and the heavy tension that used to hang between you. But in quiet moments, when she’s busy scrolling through her phone or practicing her vocals, you find yourself wondering if she’d ever smirk at you again.

One evening, after a particularly long day of rehearsals, you’re both sitting in her apartment. Chaewon is sprawled out on the couch, her hair still damp from a quick shower. You’re at the kitchen counter, making tea.

“Y/N,” she calls out suddenly, her voice soft but clear.

You glance over. “Yeah?”

“Why do you always help me?” she asks, her tone genuinely curious.

You pause, gripping the handle of the kettle. “What do you mean?”

She shrugs, sitting up. “You don’t owe me anything. But you’re always here, even when I forget things or need help with stupid stuff. It’s… nice, but I don’t get it.”

Her words catch you off guard. For a moment, you don’t know how to respond.

“I just… care,” you say finally, avoiding her gaze. “I’m here because I want to be, not because I have to be.”

She doesn’t say anything right away. When you glance at her, she’s watching you with an expression you can’t quite place—curiosity mixed with something softer, almost vulnerable.

“Thanks,” she says again, quieter this time.

You nod, busying yourself with the tea to hide the lump forming in your throat.

Later that night, as you lie awake on the couch, you can’t help but reflect on how far things have come—and how much has changed.

This new Chaewon is someone you could fall for all over again. She’s kinder, gentler, more open in ways you never expected. But there’s a part of you that aches for the old Chaewon too—the one who used to challenge you, frustrate you, and make you laugh in ways no one else could.

It’s a bittersweet thought, knowing you may never get her back the way she was. But as you close your eyes, you remind yourself that this is a new beginning, a chance to love her for who she is now, not who she used to be.

And as you began to fall asleep, you can’t help but wonder how long this fragile peace will last.

-

The days slip by in a strange rhythm, where you’re never quite sure who you’ll see when you look at Chaewon.

At times, it’s like she’s still the same—sweet, easy-going, even a little shy around you. But other times, the fire you remember from before flares up unexpectedly, like a switch flipping.

You’ve gotten used to the gentle, more compliant Chaewon, the one who asks you for help with every little thing. But when her old personality slips through—when she’s sharp, playful, and downright teasing—it’s like the rug gets pulled out from under you.

One morning, you’re getting ready to leave the apartment. Chaewon is sitting on the couch, fiddling with her phone. You make your way toward the door, your keys in hand.

“Hey,” she says, her voice low and almost playful.

You stop and turn, raising an eyebrow. “Yeah?”

Her eyes glint mischievously as she leans back on the couch, crossing her arms. “You know, you’re kinda cute when you’re all flustered.”

Your stomach does a nervous flip. “What are you talking about?” You laugh awkwardly, glancing away.

She smirks, the old Chaewon you’ve missed suddenly making an appearance. “The way you get all nervous around me when I say things like that. It’s cute. I think I might start teasing you more.”

Your heart races, half amused and half unsettled. “Chae…” You try to act annoyed, but your tone betrays you. “You don’t even remember me. What do you mean by that?”

She tilts her head, eyes narrowing with something you can’t quite read. “Maybe I don’t remember all the details, but I remember you. The guy who’s always around, always hovering, always trying to help. How could I forget you?”

Your breath catches, a flutter of hope igniting in your chest. But before you can respond, she bursts out laughing. “Just kidding, Y/N. But seriously, don’t you get it? You’re like an open book. So easy to tease.”

It feels like an old routine—one you know well. You grin despite yourself, but the warmth in your chest quickly fades into the familiar uncertainty. Was this just a moment of her old self slipping through, or was it something more?

She gets up, not waiting for an answer, her usual carefree confidence taking over once again. “You should get going. I don’t want you to be late.”

And just like that, the teasing fades, and she’s back to the softer version of herself. You stand there, still feeling the aftershock of the teasing and the warmth from that brief return to the Chaewon you used to know.

-

Later that week, you’re both at a recording studio for LE SSERAFIM’s comeback preparations.

Chaewon is focused on the choreography, her movements deliberate but careful. You’re sitting in the corner of the room, watching her with a quiet sense of pride, when she suddenly stumbles over a step, losing her balance for a moment.

You instinctively stand up, ready to rush over, but she waves you off with a dismissive hand. “I’m fine,” she mutters, brushing her hair out of her face. “Don’t act like you’re my manager or something.”

Your jaw tightens, the familiar spark of annoyance bubbling up inside you. “Chae, I’m just trying to help.”

She glances up at you, her expression sharp, almost a little… cruel. “Stop acting like I need you to. I’m perfectly capable of doing things on my own.”

You freeze. This is the Chaewon you remember—the one who never asked for help, the one who got irritated when anyone tried to make things easier for her.

For a moment, you forget that she doesn’t remember everything, and your heart sinks. You had hoped this version of her was gone, that the softer, gentler Chaewon would be the one to stay. But here she is, slipping back into her old self, the one who pushed you away when you tried to get close.

“Okay,” you say quietly, masking the hurt in your voice. “I’ll stay out of your way then.”

You sit back down, your hands resting in your lap as the silence stretches between you. Chaewon doesn’t say anything more, but there’s a tension in the air that wasn’t there before.

-

Over the next few days, these shifts continue. Sometimes, she’s the easy-going Chaewon you’ve gotten used to—polite, soft-spoken, even a little shy in her interactions with you. Other times, she snaps, teasing you with a bite in her words that leaves you reeling, or she’ll shut down, acting distant and cold.

You can’t predict when the old Chaewon will emerge, and it’s disorienting. It’s like she’s two people, and you’re not sure which one you’re going to face each day.

But then, one evening, she surprises you again.

You’re sitting on the couch together, both too tired to say much after a long day of practice. The quiet isn’t uncomfortable, but it’s heavy.

Chaewon’s smile widens, but it’s different this time—not as teasing or sharp. It’s softer, almost tender, like she’s rediscovering something she once knew. She leans back against the couch, her gaze drifting to the ceiling, her thoughts seemingly miles away.

“I think I’m starting to remember more,” she says, her voice almost inaudible.

You freeze, a flutter of hope stirring in your chest. “Remember more?”

She looks at you, a faint smile still tugging at her lips. “Yeah. The old me. The one who used to—” Her words trail off, as if she’s still piecing things together in her mind. “Maybe I was a little too much sometimes… difficult. But I think I’m figuring out who I really am now.”

The words hit you harder than you expect. There’s something almost melancholic in the way she speaks, a quiet acknowledgment of her past, yet also a sense of self-awareness in the present.

You stay silent, watching her closely. There’s no sharp retort, no teasing grin to follow. For a moment, you just exist in this space, caught between who Chaewon was and who she’s becoming.

For a while, neither of you speaks. But you know—no matter which version of her you get, the part of her that’s still here, right now, is still the Chaewon you care about. Maybe it’s not the same, and maybe it never will be, but that doesn’t make it any less real. And for now, that’s enough.

-

It starts innocently enough—a rare free day where you and Chaewon decide to hang out in your apartment. She’s lounging on the couch, scrolling through her phone, while you’re in the kitchen attempting to make lunch. Everything is blissfully normal until you hear her gasp dramatically.

“YAAAA!” she shouts, the intensity of her voice startling you so much that you nearly drop the spatula.

“What? What happened?” you ask, rushing into the living room, half-expecting to see something catastrophic.

Chaewon’s eyes narrow as she points accusingly at you with her phone. “How could you?”

You blink, utterly confused. “How could I… what?”

Her face twists in mock devastation as she waves her phone like it’s evidence in a court case. “I was looking through old photos, and you were smiling way too much in the pictures we took during my memory loss phase.”

You stare at her, waiting for the punchline, but she looks genuinely offended. “What does that even mean?”

“It means,” she says, sitting up and glaring at you, “that you clearly liked her more than me. Admit it!”

You pinch the bridge of your nose, trying to process the absurdity of the situation. “Chae, you are her. It’s literally still you.”

“But it’s not me!” she insists, crossing her arms and pouting. “That version of me was sweet and soft and totally not me. You liked her better because she wasn’t mean to you, didn’t she?”

“I—what?” you stammer, completely thrown off. “No! I mean, she was nice, sure, but I didn’t like her better! It’s the same person, Chae!”

“Liar!” she exclaims, standing up and stomping over to you. “You probably enjoyed having her dote on you, didn’t you? Bet you didn’t even miss the real me at all!”

You take a cautious step back, holding your hands up defensively. “I did miss you! And I didn’t cheat on you with... you! That doesn’t even make sense!”

Chaewon huffs, her jealousy reaching peak absurdity. “Oh, it makes perfect sense. I leave for a few weeks mentally, and you’re out here having the time of your life with some soft, clingy version of me. Unbelievable!”

She pokes your chest, her expression a mix of irritation and… something else. “Admit it! You liked how she was all shy and asked for help, didn’t you? Bet you enjoyed being the big, helpful boyfriend for once instead of dealing with me!”

You can’t help it—you burst out laughing. The whole situation is so ridiculous you can’t take it seriously anymore.

“Chaewon, do you hear yourself right now? You’re jealous of yourself.”

Her cheeks flush, and she smacks your arm. “Don’t laugh! This is serious! I’m trying to have a heartfelt moment here.”

“Heartfelt?” you repeat between laughs. “You’re accusing me of emotionally cheating on you with another version of you. That’s not heartfelt—that’s a sitcom plot!”

Chaewon’s pout deepens, but there’s a hint of a smile threatening to break through her faux anger. “Well… maybe I’m a little jealous, okay? You didn’t seem to miss me as much as I thought you would.”

You sigh, shaking your head in exasperation. “Chaewon, I missed you every single day. The real you.”

Her glare falters, but she doesn’t back down. Instead, she crosses her arms and looks away, pouting. “You’re just saying that to get out of trouble.”

You take a cautious step closer, tilting your head to catch her eye. “Trouble for what? Loving my girlfriend, no matter which version of her I get?”

She glances at you, her pout softening slightly. “You’re lucky you’re cute,” she mutters under her breath.

Just as you’re about to breathe a sigh of relief, she surprises you by grabbing your shirt and pulling you down to her level. Her lips crash against yours in a kiss so sudden and intense that your brain short-circuits.

When she finally pulls away, she’s still glaring, but there’s a faint blush on her cheeks. “That’s so you don’t forget who you really belong to.”

Before you can respond, she kisses you again, her hands tangling in your hair as if staking her claim. “Chae—”

“Shut up,” she murmurs against your lips. “I’m still mad.”

You can’t help but laugh, your hands settling on her waist. “You don’t seem that mad to me.”

“Don’t push your luck,” she warns, but there’s no real heat in her voice.

By the time she lets you go, you’re both out of breath, and the tension has melted away entirely. She steps back, her arms still crossed, but there’s a sheepish smile tugging at the corners of her mouth.

“So,” you say, trying to catch your breath, “are we good now? Or should I prepare for another interrogation about cheating on you with… you?”

She rolls her eyes but leans into your chest, her head resting against you. “We’re good. But if I ever catch you looking at ‘soft Chaewon’ like that again, we’re going to have words.”

You chuckle, wrapping your arms around her. “Noted. But for the record, I love you—sharp edges and all.”

She looks up at you, her smile softening. “Good. Because you’re stuck with me, no matter which version of me shows up.”

Maybe you’ve been accused of cheating, maybe it’s all completely ridiculous, but in that moment, you can’t help but love her even more—especially when she’s acting like her old, impossible self.

You could probably get used to this Chaewon too.

[daisymbin]

OKAYY BUT HEAR ME OUT bf2l mingyu where they’re both *ahem* secretly love eo but their dynamics have always been *bantering and teasing* but one day oc just went 36. "i couldn’t imagine my life without you in it." and mingo just 15. 40. "don’t look at me like that unless you mean it."😵‍💫

FUXXXXXX the way I would crumble if this happened to me irl grrr... thank you for this amazing prompt req!!!

full prompt list!

check out my masterlist! // gyu's m.list

fluff prompt #36: "I couldn't imagine my life without you in it." +

suggestive prompt #40: "don't look at me like that unless you mean it."

it was a quiet afternoon when you called mingyu, expecting to catch up and maybe grab lunch. you hadn’t heard from him in a little while, and a lazy lunch sounded perfect. but when he picked up, his tone was a little off, almost too casual.

“hey, are you coming over for lunch?” you asked, leaning back in your chair, a teasing grin forming.

“nah, i can’t today, im busy” he replied, his voice warm, but there was something else there you couldn’t quite place.

“busy? with what?” you teased. “since when do you have anything to be busy about?”

“i have important things to be busy with,” mingyu protested back, the playful tone creeping in, though it didn’t sound like his usual carefree banter.

“important, huh?” you raised an eyebrow, suspicious. “like what? where are you?”

“at mom's— i mean, your mom’s,” he said casually, like it was the most normal thing in the world. “fixing the light bulbs and making lunch.”

“wait, what? why?” you were confused, your heart skipping a beat. you loved mingyu, but you didn’t expect him to be over at your mom’s fixing things without you. “did something happen? why didn’t she call me?”

“obviously she loves me more,” mingyu teased, his voice full of mischief. “why else would she call me and not you?”

you rolled your eyes. “does that mean i need to go over there and fight for my spot in her heart?”

mingyu chuckled on the other end, and you could almost hear his grin. “you can try, but i think i’m her favorite.”

you laughed, but you couldn’t deny the little flutter of butterflies in your chest. “fine, but i’m still coming over for lunch.”

when you finally arrived, mingyu was standing in the kitchen, a pink apron littered in butterflies tied around his waist, looking way too comfortable in your mom’s space. your mom was just finishing up, heading out the door with a “remember to lock up before you leave, you two!” as she waved to you both.

you raised an eyebrow at mingyu as he set down a plate of food. “you really came all the way over here to fix the light bulbs and cook lunch for my mom?” you couldn’t help but laugh, but there was an edge to your voice. it wasn’t exactly jealousy, but something close to it.

“what can i say?” mingyu shrugged casually, though his smile was warm, teasing. “she knows i’m handy. and besides, who wouldn’t want to hang out with someone as handsome as me?”

“right,” you deadpanned sarcastically. “handsome. so so so handsome.” but despite yourself, you smiled.

you both ate together in a comfortable silence after your mom left for her pottery class, and the moment she left, a different kind of silence hung in the air. your heart felt heavy, and mingyu noticed.

he set his fork down and looked at you, his gaze softening as you tried not to meet his eyes. “what are you thinking about?” he asked gently.

you hesitated, suddenly feeling a little too exposed. it wasn’t like you were about to tell him you had feelings for him — feelings that had been there for far too long. but the moment felt significant in a way you couldn’t explain. “i just… can’t believe you’re here,” you said, your voice quieter than usual. “i can’t believe you came over to help my mom just because she called you.”

"don't be jealous of your mom," mingyu half whined as he teased.

"it's not that," you said softly.

mingyu looked at you, his eyes narrowing as if trying to read you. “what do you mean?”

you let out a breath, feeling a little awkward now. “i mean… i couldn’t imagine my life without you in it.” the words came out before you could stop them, and you regretted them the instant they left your lips.

mingyu froze. his gaze softened, and for a moment, you thought you saw something flicker in his eyes — something more than just his usual teasing, more than just the easygoing best friend you had known for years. he swallowed, his lips slightly parted as he tried to process what you’d just said.

“wait,” mingyu said, his voice uncharacteristically hesitant. “like… in your life as a best friend or...?”

you blinked at him, feeling your heart race. you weren’t sure what to say, your throat tightening as his eyes searched yours. the air around you both seemed to hold its breath, like the world was waiting for you to say something, anything.

“like...” you trailed off, feeling all of your unspoken feelings rise to the surface. you couldn’t stop yourself. “more than that, mingyu.”

mingyu raised an eyebrow, clearly still a little nervous but trying to play it cool. "stop that," he laughed it off, “don’t look at me like that unless you mean it, you know.” his tone was light, teasing, but there was a quiet intensity beneath it that made your stomach flip.

you took a deep breath, stepping closer to him. “i do mean it,” you said, your voice steady now, filled with certainty.

mingyu’s eyes widened for a moment, and then a familiar smirk tugged at his lips, though there was still a hint of uncertainty in his eyes. he leaned back slightly, crossing his arms, as if trying to hide how affected he was. “do you now?” he asked, a teasing glint in his eyes.

you nodded slowly, your heart pounding in your chest. “i do,” you whispered.

mingyu didn’t move, his gaze flicking between your eyes and your lips, as if he was fighting with himself. but the tension in the room was palpable, and before either of you could say anything more, he closed the distance between you.

his lips were warm and soft against yours, hesitant at first, like he was unsure of how to kiss you, unsure of how you wanted it. but you kissed him back, slow and gentle, savoring the moment like it was something fragile.

mingyu pulled back just a little, his forehead resting against yours as he breathed in. “do you really?” he asked, his voice barely above a whisper.

you smiled, feeling a sense of relief wash over you. hmm, you hummed in acknowledgement.

mingyu kissed you again, this time more confidently. his hands slid to your waist, pulling you closer, and you could feel the heat building between you. his lips moved against yours with a sense of urgency, as if he couldn’t hold back anymore.

your hands found their way to his neck, fingers threading through his hair as you deepened the kiss, feeling the electric pull between you. mingyu’s body pressed against yours, the kiss growing more intense, more urgent.

“gyu...” you gasped between kisses, breathless.

he pulled back just enough to catch his breath, "i love it when you call me that," his lips brushed against yours lightly. “you sure about this?” he asked, his voice low and filled with desire. "because once we start, I won't be able to stop."

“yeah,” you murmured, your voice shaky. “i’m sure.”

with a low growl, mingyu kissed you again, this time with no hesitation. his hands slid down your body, pulling you even closer as the world around you seemed to disappear. it was just the two of you, finally giving in to everything you’d both been too scared to admit for so long.

[drowning-in-paragraphs]

hiiiiiii,

Can I request a Jude Bellingham imagine where you’re in the Bellingham documentary for his YouTube and it shows you behind the scenes watching his games and stuff and just being a cute couple 💓.

Thank Youuuuuu💓✨

a/n: sorry for the delay, I don't know why but it took me a while to write it. I hope you like it. Request me whatever you want!

THE ONE

jude bellingham x gf!reader

warnings: none, just that English is not my first language.

summary: It’s her turn to step into the spotlight of Jude’s documentary, where unseen moments reveal the depth of their connection, exposing a side of their relationship and how much they mean for each other to the public.

The camera lens focuses, the soft hum of equipment fills the room, and she sits on their cozy, cream-colored couch. Her hands are folded nervously on her lap, her leg bouncing ever so slightly as she adjust her position, trying to find the perfect balance between comfort and confidence. Her hair falls softly around her face, and she tucks a strand behind her ear, looking up at the camera with a genuine smile. A nervous chuckle escapes her as she glances toward the crew and to him.

Jude stands just out of the frame, leaning against the wall, giving her a reassuring nod, his warm smile reaching his eyes. He mouths, "You got this," and she exhales deeply, trying to calm the butterflies in her stomach. His presence is comforting, just like it always is.

"Hi, I'm...well, Jude's girlfriend," she says. "But, more than that, I’m just me—someone who tries to support him, love him, and keep him grounded." Her voice is gentle, but there’s a quiet strength in it, one that suggests she's much more than just his partner.

The interviewer asks the first question, something light to ease her in. "How did you two meet?"

She smiles wider and looks down for a moment, as if reliving the memory. “We actually met through mutual friends. Super normal. I didn’t know much about football back then, but of course I was fully aware of who he was. In person, he was even more handsome and charming, so it wasn’t a surprise that I was attracted to him straight away.” She laughs at herself. “Because of that, I spent most of the night ignoring him since I was dying of embarrassment and it wasn’t until I spilled a drink on his shirt that I was able to look him in the eye to apologize, but Jude just laughed. From then on, we spent the whole night talking, even over text afterward. We got along pretty quickly, but we took things slow. I think that’s what made it work… just letting everything happen naturally.”

As she speaks, the screen fades into footage of the two of them, candid moments from Jude's life. There's a clip of them walking hand in hand, Jude glancing over at her, his face lighting up in a way that's impossible to fake. Another video shows them sitting on a couch, laughing at something on TV. Jude’s arm is casually draped around her shoulders, his thumb gently rubbing circles on her arm. The chemistry is effortless, easy.

Back in the interview, she’s asked about how their relationship has evolved with Jude’s career skyrocketing.

"Honestly, it’s been crazy," she admits. "His schedule is intense, and sometimes we’re apart for long stretches. But we’ve always made it a priority to stay connected. We FaceTime all the time, even if it’s just to say goodnight. And when he’s home, we make sure to enjoy the little things—going on walks, cooking together, just spending time. Those are the moments that matter most."

Suddenly, Jude’s voice breaks in from off-camera, clearly teasing her. “Yeah, well burning food doesn’t count as cooking, love.”

She laughs, shaking her head, the sound of his voice immediately softening her expression. “He’s talking about his abilities,” she replies with a grin. The off-screen laughter from the crew adds to the playful atmosphere.

The next part of the interview focuses on her relationship with Jude’s family, something that’s been a big part of his life. Clips play of her with Jude’s younger brother, Jobe, during a family dinner. They’re joking around, Jobe and her teasing Jude and him complaining about their alliance. Another clip shows her talking to Jobe who’s clearly comfortable with her, and at one point, she playfully nudges him, making everyone laugh. Then, she’s shown with Jude’s parents, Denise and Mark, during a relaxed family gathering. She’s sitting next to Denise, the two of them talking and laughing as if they’ve known each other forever. The bond is clear—she fits into the family seamlessly, not as an outsider, but as someone who belongs.

"Jobe is like a little brother to me," she says with a smile when asked about him. "He’s such a good kid, and we’re always joking around. It’s just easy with him. And Jude’s parents... they’re honestly the sweetest people I’ve ever met. Denise is like a second mom to me. She’s always checking in, making sure I’m okay, especially when Jude’s away. And Mark, well... he’s the kind of dad who always has a story to tell and advice to give, whether you ask for it or not,” she adds with a laugh. “I couldn’t be luckier.”

Cut to a heartwarming montage of family moments: Jude’s girlfriend and Jobe playing video games, both of them laughing uncontrollably as Jude looks on from the side, shaking his head. Another clip shows her helping Denise in the kitchen, the two of them sharing a peaceful, easy rapport, with Mark chiming in from the dining room, to help them.

“They are awesome.”

The screen cuts to a new video clip of Jude talking directly to the camera in a different segment of the documentary. He’s sitting outside on a patio, the sun glinting off his face as he reflects.

"My mom told me pretty early on that she thought she was the one," Jude says, nodding slightly, a small smile playing at the corners of his mouth. "She said she just knew. And I trust my mom’s instincts more than anyone else’s. Honestly, I think I knew too, but hearing it from her made me super sure."

The scene shifts again, showing a playful clip of Jude and her from one of their trips. They’re by the beach, Jude holding the camera as they walk barefoot in the sand. He’s joking, trying to push her toward the water while she protests, laughing and running away. They tease each other endlessly, but the affection is obvious. Every touch, every glance, speaks volumes.

Back in the interview, Jude’s voice is heard once more, this time in a more serious tone. “She’s my rock,” he says. “People always ask me how I stay grounded, how I handle everything, and it’s her. She’s the one who keeps me steady when things get overwhelming.”

Her eyes soften as she listens to the interviewer words. "He said that?” She asks, blushing a little as the one holding the camera nods. “Well, I think we’re a team. We support each other through everything. When he's having a tough day, I’m there for him. And when I'm struggling, he’s always the first to lift me up."

The interviewer gives a knowing nod, then shifts the tone to something more playful. "Now, we’ve seen some fun clips of you two together, but who’s the bigger tease in the relationship?"

Her eyes widen slightly as she chuckles. "Oh, I know he’s going to say it’s him, but i’s definitely me. I love to tease him. He gets this little furrowed brow, and I just can’t help myself."

Another video plays, this time a candid clip of them in the living room. Jude is trying to explain some football tactic using salt shakers and a pepper grinder as players, while she watches him with an amused smile. Suddenly, she moves one of the shakers, to condiment her food, completely messing up his demonstration, and bursts into laughter when he groans dramatically, head in his hands.

Back in the interview, she shrugs innocently. "He takes it well, though. He’s a good sport about it."

Jude’s voice cuts in again. "Barely."

She bursts out laughing, shaking her head. "See? Always listening in."

The documentary closes with one last video—Jude and her sitting on the couch, his arm around her once more as they scroll through pictures on his phone. They’re laughing, teasing each other about the awkward photos, and then he pulls her close, kissing the top of her head. It’s a simple, intimate moment, but it says everything.

As the video is about to finish, she’s seen asleep in his arms and Jude’s voice comes through one last time. He looks at the camera with a smirk and whispers “Yeah... she’s the one.”

[mrsfancyferrari]

Birthday Boy

Summary: It's getting to Max's birthday and you know what he wants for it.

Song: Heartbeat by Childish Gambino

Author’s note: DUDUDUDU MAX VERSTAPPEN! Please like, reblog and share this! <3

Word count: 4.8k

MASTERLIST - F1

Max's birthday was just around the corner, and you found yourself in a fortunate position, having a few weeks off from work. This time away felt like a blessing, especially considering how close you and Max had grown recently.

The aftermath of your breakup had been tough, filled with emotional turmoil and countless tears. Yet, through it all, Max had been your rock, offering comfort and support.

You often found solace in his presence, spending nights in his bed while he opted for the couch, a testament to the deepening bond between you two.

It felt perfectly normal, a natural progression of friendship, or so you thought.

As you enjoyed a leisurely afternoon playing golf, the sun shining brightly overhead, Lily suddenly interrupted your thoughts with a loud exclamation.

"Absolutely not!" she shouted, her voice cutting through the serene atmosphere. You turned to her, puzzled, as she continued, "You can't just sleep in his bed like that! It’s not just friends hanging out; it’s crossing a line!"

Her words hung in the air, and you could feel the tension rising.

You couldn’t help but laugh at the absurdity of the situation. "Lily, me and him are just friends! It’s not like we’re planning a romantic getaway or anything," you replied, trying to lighten the mood.

Lily rolled her eyes but couldn’t suppress a smile. "Fine, but just remember, boundaries are important!" she warned, her tone softening.

Lily leaned back, her eyes sparkling with mischief as she took a swing at the golf ball, sending it soaring into the bright blue sky. "You know, you and I both understand that Max is head over heels for you," she remarked casually, a teasing grin spreading across her face.

The words hung in the air, and for a moment, everything around you faded into the background. Your heart raced, a sudden flutter of disbelief and excitement coursing through you.

This was the first time anyone had ever suggested such a thing, and the thought sent your mind spiraling.

"What? Are you serious?" you stammered, your voice barely above a whisper. The revelation felt like a jolt of electricity, igniting a mix of hope and confusion within you.

You had always thought of Max as a close friend, someone who shared laughter and late-night conversations, but the idea of him harboring deeper feelings was entirely new.

You could hardly process it, your thoughts racing as you tried to recall every interaction you’d had with him, searching for signs that you might have missed.

Lily chuckled, clearly enjoying your reaction. "What? You really didn’t know? Wow, you two are like two peas in a pod, completely oblivious to each other’s feelings," she teased, shaking her head in disbelief.

"It’s almost comical how you both dance around the truth. I mean, the way he looks at you when he thinks you’re not paying attention? It’s like he’s trying to memorize every detail of your face."

Her words painted a vivid picture in your mind, and suddenly, the world felt a little brighter, filled with possibilities you had never dared to consider before.

As they lounged in the sun-drenched golf park, Lily leaned closer, her eyes sparkling with mischief. "You know, there’s a way to find out if he really likes you," she said, a playful grin spreading across her face.

The anticipation bubbled within you, and you leaned in, eager to hear more. "How?" you asked, your curiosity piqued.

Lily's expression turned conspiratorial as she glanced over at Alex, who was engrossed in a game of golf with Lando. "Guys secretly enjoy it when you gently cup their cheek or run your fingers through their hair," she explained, her voice low and teasing.

"That’s how I figured out that big guy over there was into me. It’s all about those little moments of connection." You watched Alex swing his club, a hint of a smile playing on his lips, and wondered if Max would respond the same way if you tried something similar.

"Just think about it," Lily continued, her tone light yet encouraging. "If he doesn’t like you, he’ll probably pull away or act all awkward. But if he does… well, you’ll definitely know."

She nudged you playfully, her laughter ringing out like music in the air.

The thought of testing the waters sent a thrill through you, and you couldn’t help but imagine the possibilities.

Would Max react positively?

The idea of a shared moment filled with unspoken feelings made your heart race, and you felt a surge of confidence at the prospect of taking that leap.

As they lounged in the sun-drenched golf park, Lily leaned closer, her eyes sparkling with mischief. "You know, there’s a way to find out if he really likes you," she said, a playful grin spreading across her face.

The anticipation bubbled within you, and you leaned in, eager to hear more. "How?" you asked, your curiosity piqued.

Lily's expression turned conspiratorial as she glanced over at Alex, who was engrossed in a game of golf with Lando. "Guys secretly enjoy it when you gently cup their cheek or run your fingers through their hair," she explained, her voice low and teasing.

"That’s how I figured out that big guy over there was into me. It’s all about those little moments of connection." You watched Alex swing his club, a hint of a smile playing on his lips, and wondered if Max would respond the same way if you tried something similar.

"Just think about it," Lily continued, her tone light yet encouraging. "If he doesn’t like you, he’ll probably pull away or act all awkward. But if he does… well, you’ll definitely know."

She nudged you playfully, her laughter ringing out like music in the air.

The thought of testing the waters sent a thrill through you, and you couldn’t help but imagine the possibilities.

Would Max react positively?

After the golf session was over, your phone buzzed with a text from Max.

"Hey, come over to my place. I’ve got something cool to show you," it read.

Your heart skipped a beat, excitement mingling with nerves as you replied with a quick, "Sure, be there soon!"

The drive to Max's house felt longer than usual, every passing minute filled with anticipation.

As the door swung open, Max stepped into view, his presence commanding immediate attention. His muscular physique was evident even beneath the casual attire he wore; a fitted t-shirt clung to his broad shoulders and sculpted arms, accentuating the definition of his biceps.

The fabric of his jeans hugged his powerful thighs, hinting at the strength that lay beneath. With a confident stance, he exuded an aura of both approachability and strength, making it clear that he was someone who took care of himself while still embracing a laid-back style.

Max's features were striking, framed by tousled hair that added a touch of rugged charm to his overall appearance. His chiseled jawline and high cheekbones gave him a classic handsomeness, while his warm smile revealed a friendly demeanor that put others at ease.

The way he carried himself suggested a blend of confidence and humility, as if he was fully aware of his physical prowess but chose to remain grounded.

The casual outfit he wore—a simple t-shirt paired with well-fitted jeans—allowed his natural charisma to shine through without overshadowing his approachable nature.

As he stood there, the light from the hallway illuminated his figure, casting a subtle glow that highlighted the contours of his muscles. Max's eyes sparkled with a hint of mischief, suggesting a playful spirit beneath his strong exterior.

When you arrived, Max greeted you at the door, his usual easygoing smile on his face

"Glad you could make it," he said, leading you inside. As you stepped into the cozy living room, you couldn't shake Lily's words from your mind.

You found yourself glancing at Max, wondering if this would be the right moment to test her theory.

"So, what’s the cool thing you wanted to show me?" you asked, trying to sound casual while your heart raced.

Max's grin widened, a spark of excitement lighting up his eyes. "Come on, I'll show you," he said, motioning for you to follow him further into the house. The anticipation in his voice was contagious, and you felt a thrill of curiosity pique your interest.

As you walked through the hallway, the walls adorned with photographs and memorabilia hinted at stories and adventures shared within these walls.

He led you to a room at the back of the house, the door slightly ajar.

Inside, the room was warmly lit, and the first thing you noticed were two cats, Jimmy and Sassy, lounging comfortably on a plush armchair. Their curious eyes followed your every movement, as if they, too, were eager to see what Max had in store.

Just beyond the armchair, on a small table, you spotted a beautiful bouquet of flowers and a box of chocolates, elegantly arranged as if waiting for a special moment.

Max turned to you with a proud smile, his eyes twinkling with satisfaction. "You mentioned you've never gotten flowers or chocolates from anyone, so I wanted to change that," he said, his voice filled with genuine warmth.

The thoughtful gesture took you by surprise, and you couldn't help but feel a rush of emotion. Max's attention to detail and the effort he put into making you feel special spoke volumes, deepening the connection you felt with him.

"Oh Max, you shouldn't have," you muttered into your hands, feeling a blush creep up your cheeks.

The warmth of his gesture melted away any lingering doubts, leaving you with a soft, glowing sensation in your chest. Max's eyes softened as he watched your reaction, clearly pleased with the effect his surprise had on you.

The room seemed to shrink, the world outside fading away as you stood there, enveloped in a bubble of shared affection and understanding.

Max stepped closer, his voice gentle and sincere. "I just wanted to make you feel appreciated because you deserve it," he said, reaching out to gently take your hand.

The touch sent a shiver down your spine, and you found yourself looking up into his eyes, feeling a connection that words could scarcely capture.

Overwhelmed by the depth of emotion his gesture had stirred within you, you found yourself stepping forward, wrapping your arms around Max in a heartfelt hug. His warmth enveloped you, and for a moment, it felt as though time had stopped.

Without thinking, you leaned in and pressed a gentle kiss to his cheek, a spontaneous act that seemed to convey all the gratitude and affection words could not express.

Max's breath hitched ever so slightly, and when you pulled back, his eyes were shining with a mix of surprise and happiness.

He gazed at you with a softness that made your heart flutter, and it was clear that the moment had deepened the bond between you. "Thank you, Max," you whispered, your voice filled with emotion. "For everything."

Max smiled, a tender expression that spoke volumes, and he squeezed your hand reassuringly. The two of you stood there, silently promising each other that this was just the beginning of something truly special.

"I got you your favorite chocolates," Max muttered, a shy smile playing on his lips. You looked at him, puzzled.

"But they don't make them here?" you replied, confusion evident in your voice.

Max's smile widened as he watched the realization dawn on your face. "I had them specially ordered," he explained. "I know how much you love them, and I wanted to do something that would truly make you happy."

Your eyes widened in surprise as you processed his words. The effort and thoughtfulness behind his gesture left you speechless. "Max, I can't believe you went through all that trouble just for me," you said, your voice trembling with emotion.

He stepped closer, his hand still holding yours. "You're worth it," he replied softly. The sincerity in his eyes made your heart swell with gratitude and affection, solidifying the special bond that had formed between you.

Eventually, the two of you left the room and went to sit with each other on the sofa, leaving only a small space between you. The TV was on, but after ten minutes, neither of you was paying attention to it.

The quiet murmur of the show served as a background to your own thoughts and the unspoken emotions hanging in the air.

You glanced at Max, catching his eye, and he smiled softly, a silent acknowledgment of the shared moment. It felt as if the world outside had faded away, leaving just the two of you in this bubble of newfound connection.

You decided to try Lily's theory. "Max, there is something on your face," you muttered, not waiting for him to respond as you cupped his face with your hand.

He blinked in surprise, a puzzled look crossing his features as you gently brushed your thumb across his cheek. "What is it?" he asked softly, his voice barely above a whisper.

"It's nothing," you replied, your eyes locking onto his. "I just wanted an excuse to be closer to you."

A blush spread across Max's cheeks, and he chuckled softly, the sound a mixture of relief and amusement. "You don't need an excuse," he murmured, leaning into your touch.

He closed his eyes and leaned against your hand, his breathing steady and calm. The warmth of his skin against your palm sent a comforting shiver down your spine.

You could feel the unspoken words that lingered in the air, the depth of emotions that neither of you had fully expressed yet. It was a moment of pure intimacy, a quiet understanding that spoke volumes more than any words could.

As the night wore on, the comforting presence of Max and the emotional weight of the evening began to take their toll. You felt your eyelids grow heavy, and before you knew it, you had drifted off to sleep on the couch, cradled by the warmth of the moment.

The last thing you remembered was the gentle rise and fall of Max's chest beside you, and the soft hum of the TV creating a soothing lullaby.

When you awoke, the first thing you noticed was the lingering scent of Max on the throw blanket draped over you. It was a mix of his cologne and something uniquely him, a smell that brought an immediate sense of comfort.

You blinked, trying to shake off the grogginess, and realized that Max was no longer beside you.

The room was quiet now, the TV turned off, and a sense of emptiness replaced the warmth that had been there earlier. . . .

The long-anticipated day had finally arrived: Max's birthday celebration. Although Max had expressed a desire for a low-key gathering, his friends Lando and Charles had other plans.

They were determined to throw him a memorable bash, and before he knew it, you found yourself hailing a taxi to a trendy club that promised an extravagant night. As the city lights blurred past the window, you felt a mix of excitement and anxiety bubbling within you.

What if Max didn’t enjoy the party? What if he felt overwhelmed? These thoughts raced through your mind as you approached the club, its vibrant atmosphere pulsating with music and laughter.

Stepping out of the taxi, you hesitated for a moment, feeling the weight of uncertainty. The entrance loomed ahead, and the thrumming bass from inside made your heart race.

Just as you were about to gather your courage and walk in alone, you spotted a familiar figure leaning casually against the wall, seemingly lost in thought.

It was Max, his usual confident demeanor replaced by a hint of contemplation. You felt a wave of relief wash over you, and without thinking, you called out, "Max! What are you doing out here? Aren't you supposed to be inside celebrating?"

Your voice cut through the noise, and you watched as his expression shifted from one of mild annoyance to a bright, welcoming smile.

"I was waiting for you, of course," Max replied, his eyes sparkling with mischief. The tension in your chest eased as he stepped closer, the warmth of his presence making the bustling club feel a little less intimidating.

"I thought I’d give you a chance to make a grand entrance," he teased, nudging you playfully.

You laughed, feeling the camaraderie between you two. "Well, I hope I didn’t keep you waiting too long. I was just trying to muster the courage to walk in there," you admitted, gesturing toward the club.

Max chuckled, shaking his head. "You know I’d never let you face this alone. Let’s go in together. It’s my birthday, and I want you to enjoy it as much as I do."

As you both stepped inside, the club's vibrant energy enveloped you. Neon lights flickered overhead, casting colorful patterns across the dance floor where people moved rhythmically to the beat of the music.

The air was thick with the scent of cocktails and the sound of laughter, and you could see Charles at the bar while Lando was being the DJ, waving enthusiastically as soon as he spotted you.

You made your way through the crowd with Max by your side, feeling a little more at ease with each step. As you approached the bar, Charles greeted you with a wide grin and a raised eyebrow.

"Well, well, look who decided to grace us with their presence," he teased, his eyes darting between you and Max. "I was starting to think you two had run off for a private celebration of your own."

Max rolled his eyes playfully, nudging you with his elbow. "Oh, come on, Charles. You know we wouldn't miss your expertly mixed cocktails for anything," he retorted, reaching for a drink that Charles had just finished preparing.

You laughed, feeling a blush creep up your cheeks as Charles gave you a knowing wink. "Just saying, you two seem pretty inseparable tonight,"

Charles added with a chuckle. "But I'm glad you're here. Now let's get this party started!"

As you navigated through the bustling crowd, you felt a warm sense of connection as Max's fingers intertwined with yours. It was a surprising gesture, one that felt so unlike the sober Max you knew, who typically kept his distance in social situations.

Yet here he was, leading you through the throng of partygoers with an air of confidence that seemed to defy his usual demeanor.

"Can you believe I actually agreed to this?" he chuckled, glancing back at you with a playful smirk.

You could see the hint of discomfort in his eyes, but he was trying to make the best of it, and you admired him for that.

Max had been thrust into the role of the gracious host, forced to thank each guest for attending his birthday celebration, even though he had made it clear he wasn’t keen on the idea of a party in the first place.

"Thanks for coming! It means a lot," he said, his voice dripping with a forced cheerfulness as he greeted a group of friends. You could see the strain behind his smile, and it made you want to laugh and cry at the same time.

"You’re doing great," you whispered encouragingly, squeezing his hand tighter. He shot you a grateful glance, and for a moment, the weight of the party seemed to lift just a little.

As the night wore on, the inevitable questions began to surface. "So, are you two dating?" one of Max's friends asked, a teasing glint in their eye. Max's response was quick, a playful grin spreading across his face.

"Oh, absolutely! We’re planning a wedding next week," he joked, his tone light but his eyes darting to you for a reaction. You couldn’t help but laugh, feeling a rush of warmth at the thought. "Or maybe we’ll just stick to being best friends," he added, shifting the conversation away with a wink.

You felt a mix of amusement and affection for him, knowing that beneath the humor, there was a genuine bond forming between you two, one that was becoming increasingly hard to define.

You liked Max more than you cared to admit, and each shared smile or inside joke only deepened that feeling. His ability to switch from playful banter to genuine warmth made your heart flutter in ways you hadn’t experienced before.

Tonight, seeing him step out of his comfort zone for the sake of others, you admired his resilience and adaptability. It was a side of him you rarely saw, but one that made you appreciate him even more.

As the party continued, you found yourself gravitating towards him, drawn by an invisible thread of mutual understanding and unspoken feelings. Every touch, every shared glance, seemed charged with a new, electric energy.

You wondered if he felt it too, or if you were simply projecting your own hopes onto the night.

Either way, you couldn’t shake the feeling that something significant was unfolding between you, something that went beyond the confines of friendship.

As the evening unfolded, you found yourself nursing a drink, careful not to indulge too much. The last thing you wanted was to wake up the next day regretting a bold confession of your feelings for Max.

The thought of revealing your heart to him sent a shiver down your spine, but the atmosphere was electric, and you could feel the tension building.

Lando, Charles, and a few others were gathered around, their laughter echoing through the room as they engaged in a lively game of truth or dare.

You were lost in your thoughts, contemplating the fine line between friendship and something more, when suddenly, a light tap on your shoulder jolted you back to reality.

“Hey, it’s your turn! Truth or dare?” Lando’s voice rang out, playful and teasing, pulling you from your reverie. You glanced around the circle, the eager faces of your friends urging you to make a choice.

“Um, dare,” you replied, a mix of excitement and apprehension bubbling within you. You felt a rush of adrenaline, as if the game itself was daring you to step outside your comfort zone.

Lando’s eyes sparkled with mischief as he leaned in closer, clearly relishing the moment. “I dare you to sit on Max’s lap for the rest of the night and kiss him,” he declared, a knowing grin spreading across his face.

Your heart raced at the suggestion, a whirlwind of emotions swirling inside you. The room fell silent for a moment, all eyes on you, waiting for your reaction. You could feel the heat rising to your cheeks, a mix of embarrassment and thrill coursing through your veins.

Max, sitting just a few feet away, looked equally surprised, his expression a blend of curiosity and amusement. “You heard him,” you said, trying to sound more confident than you felt.

With a deep breath, you made your way over to Max, your heart pounding in your chest. As you settled onto his lap, the world around you faded away, leaving just the two of you in that electrifying moment.

The laughter of your friends faded into the background as you leaned in, your lips brushing against his, igniting a spark that had been waiting to be unleashed.

Max immediately cupped your cheek with one hand, his touch sending a jolt of warmth through you, while his other hand rested on your waist, pulling you a little closer.

The connection between you was undeniable, a magnetic force that neither of you could resist.

His lips pressed against yours with a tenderness that made your heart flutter, and for a moment, it felt as though time had stopped.

As you pulled back slightly, your eyes met his, and an unspoken understanding passed between you. The room erupted in cheers and applause, but their sounds were distant, muffled by the intensity of the moment you shared.

Max's eyes held a newfound softness, a hint of vulnerability that mirrored your own.

“I’ve been wanting to do that for a long time,” he whispered, his breath warm against your skin.

"Max, you're drunk. You don't mean that," you dismissed his words with a nervous laugh, though your heart was pounding even harder at his confession.

You tried to brush it off, convincing yourself it was just the alcohol talking, but the sincerity in his eyes made it difficult to ignore. Your mind raced, torn between the desire to believe him and the fear of what it might mean if he was telling the truth.

Max's hand remained on your waist, holding you in place as he shook his head slowly. "No, I mean it," he insisted, his voice steady despite the slight slur of intoxication.

"I've always felt something for you, but I never had the courage to say it. Tonight just gave me the push I needed."

The vulnerability in his gaze was unmistakable, and in that moment, you realized that perhaps the alcohol had simply loosened his tongue, allowing him to finally voice what had been in his heart all along.

Your breath caught in your throat as you looked into his earnest eyes, and you felt a wave of emotions crash over you. "Max," you began softly, "I've felt it too, but I was always too scared to admit it."

His grip on you tightened slightly, a silent encouragement, and you continued, "Maybe we should talk about this when we're both sober, but I don't want to ignore what we're feeling right now."

"Will you say the same thing tomorrow?" Max asked, his voice tinged with fear. You could feel the weight of his question, the uncertainty that mirrored your own.

"I promise, I'll still feel the same," you replied softly, your heart hammering in your chest. "But let's give ourselves a chance to wake up and see if this moment is just as real in the light of day."

"Tomorrow, you might just earn yourself a girlfriend," you added with a playful smirk, trying to lighten the mood. Max's eyes sparkled with a mixture of hope and relief.

"Want to get a taste of her before the night ends?" you asked, leaning in closer.

The tension melted away as he pulled you into another kiss, this one filled with a newfound certainty. The world around you faded once more, leaving just the two of you in a bubble of shared emotions and possibilities.

"Get a room!" Lando yelled from across the bar, his voice cutting through the intimate moment. Max didn't miss a beat, raising his hand to give Lando the middle finger while still kissing you.

You couldn't help but laugh against his lips, the absurdity of the situation adding a light-hearted touch to the intense emotions swirling between you.

As you finally pulled away, both of you breathless and grinning, Max's eyes held a promise of tomorrow. "Let's get out of here," he whispered, his forehead resting against yours.

"I want to spend the rest of my birthday with you, just us." You nodded, your heart full and your mind clear for the first time in a long while.

Together, you made your way out, hand in hand, ready to face whatever the morning would bring. . . .

[fioredeciliego]

Accidental Confessions - Karina x Fem!Reader

9k words

The auditorium hummed with anticipation as Y/N settled into her seat beside Rei, folding her arms comfortably. The room was packed with freshmen eagerly taking in their first taste of university life, but she was hardly paying attention to the introductory speeches. Her friends were all around her, immersed in their own excited chatter: Jiwon and Rei kept stealing small, affectionate glances, Yujin playfully teased a blushing Wonyoung, and Gaeul was scrolling through her phone, occasionally nudging Y/N to show her funny photos she’d saved.

Y/N couldn’t help but smile at her friends' obvious happiness. It was almost laughable how quickly things had fallen into place on day one—new classes, new people, new possibilities. Still, she stayed grounded, focused on what they’d come here to do. Medicine. The program was reputed for being grueling, so keeping her head down and blending in felt like a safe plan.

But as the room began to quiet down, her attention was snagged by a shift in the crowd near the auditorium entrance. Her gaze landed on a new group making their way down the aisle, effortlessly drawing the attention of nearly everyone in the room.

Jimin led them.

Y/N had heard about Jimin from passing conversations on orientation day. A sophomore in the medical program, Jimin was known not only for her academic ability but also for her popularity on campus. She was the kind of person others naturally gravitated towards, with an air of confidence that set her apart. Jimin’s friends followed close behind, talking and laughing among themselves, but it was Jimin who seemed to capture the room with ease, even before she reached her seat.

Y/N couldn’t quite place what it was about her that held her focus. Maybe it was the smooth, unbothered way she moved, or the casual glances she tossed toward familiar faces, like she was already at home here. Her clothes were simple, yet every detail looked effortlessly put together. People had a lot to say about her—stories ranging from her perfect grades to her rumored love life—and as Y/N watched her, she could see why.

“Ah, already captivated by the upperclassmen, are we?” Gaeul’s teasing tone jolted Y/N from her thoughts. Y/N brushed it off with a shake of her head, but as she looked back, something unexpected happened.

Jimin was staring directly at her.

The gaze was cool and observant, and Y/N’s breath hitched as their eyes met. It was like being caught off guard by a flash of lightning—sudden, intense, and impossible to ignore. Y/N expected Jimin to look away, but instead, Jimin’s lips curved into a small, almost private smile, a hint of mischief lighting her expression.

Y/N’s pulse kicked up, and she felt a sudden flush creeping up her neck. A smirk? It was barely there, but the way Jimin’s gaze lingered for an extra beat before turning back to her friends left Y/N feeling as if she’d been drawn into a secret she didn’t fully understand.

“Nothing, huh?” Rei’s voice was closer, her tone knowingly playful.

Y/N scoffed, feigning a dismissive wave of her hand. “She just…looked over here,” she muttered, though her mind was racing with questions she didn’t know how to answer.

“Looked over here?” Rei raised a brow, lips quirking in amusement. “Looked over here how? Because from where I’m sitting, it looked a lot like staring.”

Gaeul, catching onto the exchange, leaned in with a smirk of her own. “Staring and smirking,” she added. “Don’t think she does that for just anyone.”

Y/N laughed it off, hoping her friends wouldn’t notice the color rising to her cheeks. “I think you’re all just bored,” she said, but she could still feel the residual warmth of Jimin’s gaze, like a phantom touch lingering on her skin. Forcing herself to turn away, she stared down at her hands, trying to will her heartbeat back to normal.

As the orientation continued, Y/N occasionally found herself glancing back in Jimin’s direction, half-convinced she was imagining things. But each time she looked, Jimin seemed completely focused on her friends, laughing at something Aeri was saying or nodding along with a calm expression as Yizhuo gestured animatedly beside her. Y/N told herself she’d imagined that whole moment, that maybe Jimin was simply lost in thought and accidentally looked her way.

But deep down, she knew that wasn’t it. Jimin’s gaze had been far too deliberate, and that subtle, knowing smirk had seemed almost…calculated, as if it was meant to leave her feeling exactly the way she did now—off-balance and uncharacteristically flustered.

“Y/N, you’re zoning out again,” Gaeul nudged her shoulder, snapping her back to the present.

“Right,” Y/N replied, blinking herself out of her thoughts and forcing herself to focus on the faculty members now introducing the semester’s course load and expectations. She tried to take in the information as the dean highlighted the program’s rigor and upcoming assignments, but her mind kept drifting back to that brief, charged moment.

She glanced back at her friends, watching as Jiwon leaned into Rei’s shoulder, and Yujin and Wonyoung shared a small smile, the kinds of looks that spoke of something unspoken and deeply mutual. Y/N had always been slightly baffled by these things—by the way some people could connect instantly, how a single look could change the whole atmosphere.

But sitting here now, with the heat of Jimin’s gaze still lingering like an invisible thread between them, she thought maybe, for the first time, she understood.

--

After orientation the girls decided to head out near campus to eat. The café was buzzing with the lively chatter of students, its walls lined with posters advertising clubs, study groups, and all kinds of university events. Y/N sat in the middle of the café’s cozy corner with her friends, sipping an iced coffee and feeling the weight of the day slowly lift. Jiwon and Rei were huddled together, heads close as they shared some inside joke, while Wonyoung and Yujin debated over which study group was actually useful for their biochemistry class. Gaeul, ever the people-watcher, scanned the room for familiar faces while picking at a muffin.

“So…” Y/N started, not quite meeting anyone’s eyes as she stirred her drink absently. “Did anyone…um, notice that sophomore from orientation? Jimin, I think?”

It was a casual question—at least, she hoped it sounded that way. She’d spent half the morning trying to shake off that lingering, half-dazed feeling from her brief encounter with Jimin. Maybe talking about it would somehow make it feel less…intense.

Gaeul’s head snapped around so fast Y/N thought she might get whiplash. Her friend’s eyes widened as she broke into a grin. “Oh? So you did notice her.”

Y/N tried to shrug it off, but Rei and Jiwon had already leaned in, their faces lighting up with an interest far too intense for her comfort.

“She’s cool, I guess,” Y/N said quickly, trying to sound casual. “I just thought she seemed…you know, confident. Unbothered.”

“Confident and unbothered?” Rei repeated, exchanging a sly glance with Gaeul. “And what else? Tall, dark, and mysterious?”

“She does have that vibe,” Jiwon chimed in, winking. “And someone here is clearly into it.”

Y/N rolled her eyes, desperately trying to ignore the heat creeping up her neck. “No, I’m just saying…like, objectively, she’s cool. That’s all.”

“Uh-huh,” Gaeul leaned back in her chair, crossing her arms as she studied Y/N with a grin. “Is that why you stared at her the whole time during orientation?”

Y/N’s mouth fell open, and she sputtered a quick defense. “I didn’t stare! You’re imagining things.”

But Gaeul was relentless, leaning in closer, eyes gleaming with amusement. “Oh, sure, because you just ‘accidentally’ brought her up and just ‘casually’ called her cool.” She exchanged an exaggerated glance with Rei. “Do you think we should tell Y/N what the first stage of a crush looks like, or…?”

“First stage?” Y/N huffed, crossing her arms, though her cheeks were on fire. “Please. It’s not like that. She just…made an impression, that’s all.”

“Oh, an impression, huh?” Rei teased, putting her chin in her hands as if deeply interested. “Did it come with a smirk and a little eye contact?”

Y/N tried to hold her composure, but the way her friends were zeroing in on every detail made it nearly impossible. “You’re all ridiculous,” she mumbled, her tone a bit too defensive to be convincing.Wonyoung decided to step in, reaching across the table to give Y/N’s hand a reassuring squeeze. “Alright, alright, everyone, let’s give her a break. She just thought Jimin was cool, that’s all. Right, Y/N?”

Y/N breathed a sigh of relief, grateful to have someone on her side. “Yes, exactly. Thank you, Wonyoung.”

But then Wonyoung shot her a mischievous grin, shrugging her shoulders as she added, “Not that I blame you, though. If Jimin had looked at me like that, I’d probably be talking about her, too.”

Y/N’s relief melted into exasperation as Wonyoung’s words set the rest of the table off again.

Jiwon laughed, nudging Rei. “See, Wonyoung gets it. That girl had some serious energy at orientation, like she knew everyone was watching her. It was kind of impossible not to look.”

Gaeul nodded sagely, pretending to be thoughtful. “And you know, for someone who was supposedly just ‘making an observation,’ Y/N here sure remembers a lot of details about Jimin.”

Y/N shook her head, trying to ignore the traitorous grin tugging at her lips. “I swear, you’re all being so dramatic about this.”

“Hey, don’t fight it,” Wonyoung teased with a grin. “I mean, if I got that kind of attention from Jimin, I’d probably be just as starry-eyed.”

“Starry-eyed? I am not starry-eyed!” Y/N protested, but even she could tell it was a weak argument.

The group broke into laughter, and Y/N hid her face in her hands, laughing despite herself. She knew they were mostly teasing, but the way her friends looked at her—like they could see right through her act—made her wonder if maybe, deep down, there was something there. Something she hadn’t quite let herself acknowledge yet.

Rei gave her a gentle nudge, still grinning. “Just admit it. There’s a spark there, and you know it.”

Y/N peeked out from behind her hands, shaking her head as she tried to brush off their words. “It’s not like that,” she insisted, but her friends were all smiles, too entertained to believe a single word she said.

“Sure, sure,” Gaeul said, waving her off with a smirk. “Whatever you say. But remember this conversation when you’re head over heels and can’t deny it anymore.”

Y/N tried to fight back a smile but lost the battle as their laughter filled the café, mingling with the clinking cups and soft hum of music.

-- Later that week, Y/N found herself in the anatomy lab, her nerves firing on all cylinders. She and her friends had spent the last few days studying the basics, but the hands-on part of anatomy felt different—more real and, in a way, daunting. Now, under the stark fluorescent lights and surrounded by gleaming tools and models, her mind went blank as she tried to organize the instruments in front of her.

She fumbled with the scalpels, picking one up, then another, unsure if she’d even grabbed the right tool. Flipping through her notes in a mild panic, she barely noticed someone approaching until a smooth, amused voice cut through her concentration.

“Are you really going to need all five of those scalpels?”

Y/N looked up sharply, her breath catching as she met a familiar gaze. It was Jimin, standing just a few feet away with a casual ease, arms crossed as she observed Y/N’s struggle with barely concealed amusement.

“Uh…” Y/N stumbled over her words, feeling her cheeks heat up. “I, um, just wanted to… be prepared?”

Jimin raised an eyebrow, her mouth tilting into a small smirk. “I see. So you’re the freshman who can’t keep her scalpels straight?”

A nervous laugh escaped Y/N as she looked down at the cluster of tools on her tray. “Guilty, I guess.”

Jimin chuckled, reaching over to pick up the one scalpel Y/N actually needed. Her fingers brushed lightly over Y/N’s as she handed it over, her eyes twinkling. “This one should do just fine, trust me. You don’t want to overdo it on your first go.”

Y/N let out an embarrassed laugh. “I thought being over-prepared was a good thing.”

“Well, maybe,” Jimin said with a playful shrug, studying Y/N. “But you seem like you’d do fine even if you were under-prepared.”

Y/N blinked, thrown off. “Thanks, I think?”

Jimin chuckled, her gaze lingering. “Y/N, right?”

Y/N nodded, surprised she even remembered her name. “Yeah. And you’re Jimin?”

“Sure am, darling” Jimin said with a smirk that seemed to linger just a second too long.

Y/N’s cheeks went pink at the casual nickname, but she tried to play it off, laughing nervously. She felt her heart stutter slightly, the weight of Jimin’s gaze and her easy confidence wrapping around her. She tried to gather herself, focusing back on the task at hand. “So, uh… do you volunteer in this lab a lot?”

Jimin shrugged, picking up a second scalpel and holding it up to the light. “I’m a second year, so I’ve been through it already. Figured I’d offer a little wisdom for the fresh meat.” She gave Y/N a pointed look. “Or maybe just the cute ones.”

Y/N blinked, thrown once again by the playful undertone in Jimin’s words. “Uh… well, I appreciate the wisdom. I’d probably be lost without it.”

Jimin smiled, looking far too pleased. “Happy to help. Though I think you’re selling yourself short,” she said, leaning a little closer with an almost conspiratorial grin. “Besides, if you get lost again, I’ll be around. Just call, and I’ll make sure you don’t get overwhelmed.”

Y/N smiled, caught off guard by the offer but genuinely grateful. “Thanks, I’ll keep that in mind.”

Jimin leaned back, a glimmer of something unreadable in her expression, and gave a little wave before heading back to her own lab station. “Good luck, cutie,” she called over her shoulder with one last smirk.

As she disappeared into the crowd of students, Y/N felt her cheeks heat up all over again. Did she imagine the nickname? And the way Jimin’s gaze had seemed to linger just a second too long?

Y/N shook her head, trying to brush it off. It was probably nothing, just a friendly sophomore helping out a freshman… right?

But even as she went back to her work, a tiny part of her couldn’t shake the feeling that maybe, just maybe, there was more to it than that.

--

The steady hum of activity in the campus library was underscored by the soft scratching of pens and the quiet turning of pages. Late afternoon light filtered through the windows, casting a warm glow over the rows of bookshelves and study tables. Y/N was nestled at a large table with her friends, surrounded by open notebooks and highlighters as they reviewed the latest lecture notes for their anatomy class. A pile of flashcards sat between her and Rei, who was currently quizzing herself with intense focus, mouthing terms under her breath.

Y/N leaned over to Gaeul, whispering, “Hey, I just realized I don’t have that anatomy reference book we need.”

Gaeul glanced up from her notes. “You mean Anatomy Essentials? Isn’t that, like, a required textbook?”

“I thought I had it! I probably left it in my dorm,” Y/N said, sighing. “And I really don’t want to walk back just to get it.”

Rei nudged her, an eyebrow raised in interest. “Couldn’t hurt to take a break, right? Maybe you’ll run into a certain helpful sophomore on the way.”

Y/N felt her face flush as she remembered her earlier conversation with Jimin in the lab, and she shot Rei a look. “You’re never going to let that go, are you?”

Wonyoung, who had been casually eavesdropping from across the table, smiled mischievously. “I don’t see why she should. You were blushing like a tomato when you told us about it!”

“I was not!” Y/N protested, though her cheeks were already warming again.

“Oh, you were,” Gaeul chimed in, hiding her grin. “And who could blame you? Sophomore Jimin, practically a med school legend, calls you cute on day one? I’d be flustered, too.”

“Okay, fine. Maybe she’s… kind of interesting,” Y/N admitted, trying to downplay her reaction even as her friends’ knowing smiles widened.

Rei let out a satisfied sigh. “There it is. Our Y/N has a crush.”

Before Y/N could protest, Gaeul leaned in closer, her eyes gleaming with curiosity. “Tell us more about what she said. Come on, give us every detail.”

Y/N hesitated, casting a glance around to make sure nobody nearby was listening in. She couldn’t quite help herself; Jimin had left such an impression, and part of her wanted to share it. “Okay, fine. So she comes over while I’m struggling to find the right scalpel and makes this whole thing about how I’m a ‘freshman who can’t keep her scalpels straight.’ And then she, um… she started calling me cutie.”

Wonyoung raised her eyebrows. “That sounds… pretty flirty, actually.”

“Yeah, I thought so too, but…” Y/N trailed off, biting her lip. “I mean, she’s just being friendly, right?”

Rei shook her head with an exaggerated sigh. “She calls you cute, offers you help, stays in your space a bit longer than necessary, and you think it’s just friendly?”

“Sometimes I think Y/N could be oblivious even if someone put a neon sign in front of her,” Gaeul teased, her eyes twinkling. “I think Jimin was trying to make it obvious.”

Wonyoung gave a supportive pat on Y/N’s hand, though there was a teasing sparkle in her eye as well. “Hey, it’s okay, Y/N. Maybe she’s just the kind of person who’s friendly to everyone—though, from what I hear, Jimin’s a bit picky about who she gives attention to.”

Before Y/N could respond, a quiet but unmistakable voice spoke from behind her. “Hey, Y/N.”

She turned, slightly surprised to find Jimin herself standing at the end of their table, a casual smile on her face. Her friends, including Aespa members Minjeong, Aeri, and Yizhuo, were nearby, waiting by a row of bookshelves.

Jimin held a book in her hand, looking effortlessly at ease. “I overheard you mention needing Anatomy Essentials? You can borrow mine, if you want,” she offered, extending the book with a slight smile. “I already know all the material, so I won’t be needing it.”

Y/N’s heart skipped a beat, and she took the book, feeling warmth seep into her cheeks. “Oh—thank you! I didn’t realize you were so close by.”

Jimin tilted her head, her smile growing just slightly. “It’s a small library, and I just happened to be in the right spot.”

Y/N’s friends, who had been quietly watching the exchange, exchanged barely concealed glances of amusement. Rei’s hand came up to her mouth, as if she were suppressing a laugh, while Wonyoung nudged Gaeul under the table, her eyes practically gleaming.

“Hey, Jimin!” Wonyoung said, breaking the silence. “Thanks for helping our girl out.”

“Oh, it’s no trouble.” Jimin shrugged easily, but her gaze didn’t stray far from Y/N. “Besides, it seems like she could use all the help she can get with anatomy.”

Y/N let out a nervous laugh, feeling Jimin’s words settle over her. “Yeah, I’m still getting used to it.”

Aeri, who had walked over with Jimin, joined in, smiling at Y/N with a raised eyebrow. “Don’t worry, we’ve all been there. Well, maybe not Jimin,” she teased, nudging her friend. “She practically breezed through first year.”

Jimin waved it off with a modest grin. “I wouldn’t say that. I had help too, now and then.”

“From your many admirers?” Minjeong chimed in with a smirk, causing Yizhuo to stifle a laugh.

Jimin shot her friends a look, though she didn’t seem bothered. “Maybe,” she said, her eyes flickering back to Y/N, “but I think they’ve got nothing on Y/N here.”

The warmth in Y/N’s cheeks intensified as her friends snickered under their breaths. Trying to keep her composure, she managed a small laugh. “Thanks, I guess?”

Jimin gave her one last, lingering smile. “You’re welcome. And, you know, I’m around if you ever need a study partner.”

Y/N’s friends practically vibrated with excitement, but she just managed to nod, heart fluttering. “I’ll… keep that in mind. Thanks again, Jimin.”

With a parting wave, Jimin walked back to her table, Minjeong and Yizhuo leaning close and whispering to her as they all glanced back at Y/N’s table, clearly entertained by the exchange. Y/N’s friends immediately turned on her, their eyes wide with delight.

“She practically offered herself up as a personal tutor,” Rei said, fanning herself. “If that’s not interest, I don’t know what is!”

“Yeah, Y/N, did you hear the part about a ‘study partner’?” Gaeul said, nudging her. “Please tell me you’re not going to let this chance go.”

Y/N was too flustered to respond, her mind replaying Jimin’s lingering gaze and that easy, confident smile. She finally managed a shrug, though her eyes were shining with excitement she couldn’t entirely hide. “She’s just being nice,” she said, almost out of habit. Yujin let’s her head fall on top of the table with a loud bang.

Wonyoung put a hand on Y/N’s shoulder, giving her a gentle squeeze. “Y/N, we’re going to get you to realize what’s happening here. Jimin likes you, and you’re going to be the last person to figure it out if you keep brushing it off.”

Y/N laughed, unable to deny the thrill in her chest. “I’ll try to keep it in mind. I mean… it is kind of nice having someone offer to help.”

“‘Nice’?” Yujin echoed, raising an eyebrow. “Y/N, this is probably the most sought-after second-year flirting with you. ‘Nice’ doesn’t even begin to cover it.”

Wonyoung leaned in, a soft, amused smile on her face. “And when you finally realize it, we’re all going to be right here, watching it unfold.”

Y/N felt a pang of warmth, knowing her friends were just as thrilled as she was, even if she wasn’t entirely ready to admit it to herself. As they settled back into their notes, her mind drifted to the book Jimin had handed her, the warmth of Jimin’s gaze still lingering in her memory.

“Maybe,” Y/N murmured, glancing down at the borrowed textbook, “it’s a bit more than nice.”

--

After an intense first week of university, Y/N felt like her brain could use a hard reset. The thought of home—the smell of her mom’s cooking, the comfort of her own bed, and maybe even a bit of Leeseo’s playful pestering—was a welcome change of pace. The train ride home was calming, a chance to breathe as campus life faded into the background, replaced by familiar sights and memories.

When Y/N finally stepped through the door, she was greeted by the smell of something delicious simmering in the kitchen. But before she could even set her bag down, a loud squeal echoed through the house.

“Y/N!” Leeseo came barreling down the hallway, a blur of energy as she threw her arms around her sister. “I thought you’d never come back! College hasn’t, like, made you too cool for us, has it?”

Y/N rolled her eyes and laughed, returning Leeseo’s hug. “Too cool for you? Never. I’ve actually missed you, believe it or not.”

“Oh, I definitely believe it,” Leeseo replied, pulling Y/N down the hall and into her room without missing a beat. “Now, spill everything. I want to know everything about college life, your friends, your classes, the parties you’re probably going to…"

Y/N chuckled, flopping onto her bed and watching Leeseo plop down beside her, eyes wide with excitement and curiosity. She knew there was no way around it. “It’s been… a lot, honestly. But good! There are great people, and the classes are intense, but I think I’m handling it. My friends and I are figuring things out together.”

Leeseo’s eyes narrowed, a playful smirk appearing on her face. “Good people, huh? Do any of those ‘good people’ happen to be… a little extra good?”

Y/N’s face warmed as she realized where this was heading. “Leeseo…”

“Ah-ha! So there is someone!” Leeseo practically squealed, bouncing on the bed. “Who is she? What’s her name? Does she have a reputation? Oh my gosh, tell me everything!”

With a resigned sigh, Y/N glanced at her sister, who looked like she was practically vibrating with excitement. “Okay, there might be… someone. Her name is Jimin. She’s a sophomore. We kind of ran into each other a couple of times this week.”

Leeseo’s eyebrows shot up, her eyes twinkling with interest. “Jimin, huh? And she’s a sophomore? Upperclassmen vibes? This sounds dangerous already.” She leaned in, as if trying to read Y/N’s thoughts.

“Leeseo, come on. It’s really not like that. She’s just… nice, I guess. Friendly.” Y/N paused, realizing how inadequate the word “friendly” sounded when describing Jimin’s smirks and teasing looks. “Maybe a little flirty.”

“Oh, I knew it!” Leeseo practically shouted, laughing with delight. “So, tell me—what does ‘a little flirty’ mean in Jimin terms?”

Y/N hesitated, memories of their last exchange flickering in her mind. “She… well, she teases me. She called me ‘darling’ instead of my name, stuff like that.”

“‘Darling’? Oh, Y/N, that’s definitely not just ‘friendly.’” Leeseo’s eyebrows knitted together, her expression shifting as she absorbed this. “Look, all I’m saying is, be careful. College sophomores, especially the popular ones… they’re not always serious, you know?”

“Oh, I don’t think she’s interested like that,” Y/N said, though a part of her was still turning over those little moments she shared with Jimin. “Besides, I barely know her. I don’t even know if she was serious.”

Leeseo sighed dramatically, but her eyes softened. “I just don’t want you to get hurt, Y/N. College girls—especially the confident ones—can be hard to read.”

Y/N smiled, nudging Leeseo’s shoulder. “You know, you sound just like mom right now.”

“Maybe. But I also know what it’s like to fall for someone’s charm.” Leeseo grinned, a tiny blush coloring her cheeks. “Actually… I have someone I’ve been meaning to tell you about.”

Y/N’s eyebrows rose in surprise. “Oh? Do tell.”

Leeseo tucked a piece of hair behind her ear, glancing down for a second before looking back up at Y/N with a shy smile. “Her name’s Eunchae. She’s in my grade, and we’ve been… kind of seeing each other. I wanted to make sure it was real before I said anything.”

Y/N’s face lit up. “Leeseo! That’s amazing! Why didn’t you tell me sooner?”

“I don’t know… I guess I just didn’t want to jinx it.” Leeseo’s eyes shone as she spoke, and her happiness was so genuine that it made Y/N’s heart swell.

Y/N reached over, taking her sister’s hand and giving it a reassuring squeeze. “I’m so happy for you, Leeseo. I can’t wait to meet her.”

Leeseo’s smile widened, and she looked away, embarrassed. “Well, about that… you’re actually going to meet her tonight. I invited her over.”

Y/N’s eyes widened, and she laughed. “Already? You’re fast, little sis.”

“Oh, stop! She’s been dying to meet you too,” Leeseo replied, tossing a pillow at her sister with a laugh. “Just… try not to embarrass me, okay?”

The doorbell rang, and Leeseo’s face instantly brightened. “That’ll be her! Be nice!”

Y/N smirked, following Leeseo to the front door. When they opened it, a girl with a bright smile and warm, expressive eyes stood on the porch, looking both eager and slightly shy. She waved at Y/N, offering a friendly smile.

“Hi! I’m Eunchae,” she said, glancing between Leeseo and Y/N.

“Hi, Eunchae! It’s nice to finally meet you,” Y/N replied warmly, giving her a quick hug. “I’ve heard a lot about you. Apparently, my sister’s got good taste.”

Eunchae laughed, her cheeks turning pink as she shot Leeseo a playful glance. “Well, I’d like to think so.”

Leeseo rolled her eyes, pulling Eunchae further into the house. “Come on, Eunchae, let’s sit down.”

As they settled in the living room, Y/N couldn’t help but notice the way Leeseo and Eunchae glanced at each other, the quiet ease and joy between them. She felt a pang of nostalgia, remembering when things had felt just as simple and new.

“Alright, Y/N,” Leeseo said suddenly, snapping her out of her thoughts. “I know I’m usually the protective one, but I’ve got one request: let me meet this Jimin someday. Just to see if she’s worth all this thinking you’re doing.”

Y/N chuckled, shaking her head. “Oh, no. It’s really not like that. She’s… just someone I met. I wouldn’t even call her a friend yet; more like an acquaintance.”

Leeseo raised an eyebrow, giving her a look of playful disbelief. “Just an acquaintance? Y/N, I don’t think I’ve ever heard you talk about an ‘acquaintance’ this much before. Are you sure there isn’t a tiny, tiny bit more to it?”

Y/N paused, searching for the right words. “I don’t know… she’s intriguing, I guess? But it’s hard to say what her intentions are. It’s all just been casual run-ins and some light teasing. I can’t even tell if she’s actually interested or just… like that with everyone.”

Leeseo tilted her head, considering this. “Hmm. Well, college girls like her can be like that sometimes—charming and mysterious but hard to read. Just be careful, okay?”

Y/N smiled, grateful for her sister’s protectiveness but feeling a bit unsure herself. “Yeah, maybe. For now, though, I’m just letting things happen. If anything comes of it, you’ll both be the first to know.”

Leeseo nodded approvingly, relaxing back into the couch. “Good answer. That’s my big sister, smart and cautious,” she said with a teasing wink.

-- The weekend had flown by, and before she knew it, Y/N was back on campus, wading through her Monday routine. Her thoughts drifted now and then to her family and Leeseo’s “little sister advice,” which had been circling in her mind like a catchy tune.

She was weaving through the common area, textbooks hugged to her chest, when she heard a familiar voice call out.

“Y/N!”

She turned to find Jimin leaning against a nearby column, a confident smile tugging at her lips. Her presence was striking, standing out even in the busy hallway. Y/N felt her pulse quicken as she managed a small smile and walked over.

“Hey, Jimin,” she greeted, trying to sound casual despite the flutter in her chest.

“Hey yourself.” Jimin’s gaze lingered, and then she tilted her head with a playful smile. “So, my friends and I are throwing a party on Friday night for students from all years. Thought I’d see if you and your friends wanted to come.”

Y/N’s eyebrows raised slightly, feeling a jolt of surprise. “Oh… that sounds fun. Are you inviting… everyone?” she asked, her voice unintentionally hesitant.

Jimin chuckled, reading between the lines. “Not everyone,” she replied smoothly, eyes glinting. “Just the people who seem like they might be able to keep up.”

“Oh,” Y/N managed, feeling a little flustered. “Well, yeah, I think we could do that.”

“Perfect.” Jimin’s smile deepened, as if satisfied with Y/N’s answer. “It’s at the usual spot near the student center. Starts around eight, but feel free to come fashionably late,” she added with a wink. “Oh, and don’t forget to dress up. It’s not every day we get a chance to look our best, right?”

Y/N laughed nervously, trying to match Jimin’s relaxed confidence. “Got it. I’ll let everyone know.”

“Great,” Jimin said, her eyes lingering on Y/N for a beat longer than necessary. “Looking forward to seeing you there.”

With one last smile, Jimin turned and strolled down the hall, leaving Y/N standing there, trying to piece together what had just happened. Did Jimin really mean it for her specifically, or was this just an invitation in passing?

As soon as Jimin disappeared around the corner, Y/N’s thoughts snapped back to her friends. She quickly sent a text to let them know about the party, her fingers slightly shaky on the screen.

--

That evening, Y/N and the rest of the group met up at their usual café. The excitement in the air was almost palpable, as if the invitation itself was a sign of something bigger.

Wonyoung’s eyes sparkled as she read Y/N’s text out loud to the group for the third time. “She said just the people who seem like they can keep up. Y/N, if that doesn’t sound like an invitation meant for you, I don’t know what does.”

“Seriously, Y/N,” Rei chimed in, grinning widely. “Do you know how rare it is to get invited by Jimin herself? And not just invited—she wants you to dress up.”

“Maybe she just wants everyone to look nice,” Y/N mumbled, feeling her cheeks heat up. “She probably said that to everyone she invited.”

“Or she’s making sure you show up looking extra cute,” Gaeul teased, nudging her playfully. “I don’t know why you’re overthinking this.”

Y/N rolled her eyes, trying to hide her grin. “You guys are getting ahead of yourselves. It’s just a party. No big deal.”

“Sure,” Wonyoung said, smirking. “It’s not a big deal that Jimin invited you to her party and made a point of wanting you to look nice. No big deal at all.”

“Look,” Y/N sighed, “I just don’t want to assume anything. She’s probably just being friendly.”

“Or flirty,” Yujin interjected with a smirk, sharing a look with Wonyoung. “Just admit it, Y/N—you’re a little bit curious about her.”

Y/N hesitated, trying to find a way out of admitting anything. But her friends weren’t having it.

Rei leaned over, her eyes sparkling with excitement. “Come on, Y/N. It’s a party. You’ll get to know Jimin better, and besides, it’s the perfect excuse to look amazing.”

“Fine, I’ll dress up,” Y/N relented with a sigh, fighting a smile. “But I’m only doing it so you guys stop giving me such a hard time.”

The group cheered, sharing ideas about what she could wear, swapping makeup tips, and even planning out the details down to Y/N’s shoes.

--

The night of the party arrived, and the lively hum of music and laughter filled the air long before Y/N and her friends stepped into the house. She felt a blend of excitement and nerves, her friends’ confidence pushing her forward even as she wondered what tonight might bring.

Y/N had gone all out for the occasion. Her dress, a short, fitted number in a striking midnight blue, hugged her in all the right places, shimmering subtly in the lights as she moved. She’d kept her accessories minimal—a delicate necklace and earrings that caught the light whenever she turned her head—but it was enough to make her feel special. Her friends hadn’t stopped admiring her look since they’d met up to head over.

As Y/N stepped through the threshold, she immediately felt the warmth of the party envelop her. The air was thick with the scent of snacks and the sound of music pulsing through the crowd. People were scattered around the living room, chatting, laughing, and dancing, and the atmosphere was electric with energy.

Spotting Jimin across the room, Y/N's heart skipped a beat. Jimin looked effortlessly cool as ever, dressed down in oversized, light-wash jeans that draped over her chunky white sneakers, paired with a simple black cropped tank top that showcased her toned midriff. Her dark hair was styled in loose waves, framing her face and giving her a carefree, yet put-together appearance. The way she moved through the crowd exuded confidence, and Y/N found herself momentarily mesmerized.

It wasn’t long after she arrived that Y/N felt a tap on her shoulder. Turning, she found herself face-to-face with Jimin, whose relaxed smile sent a small shiver down her spine.

"Hey, glad you could make it,” Jimin said, her voice smooth and warm as she held Y/N’s gaze, the corners of her mouth tilting up slightly.

Y/N’s heartbeat quickened. “Yeah, thanks for inviting me,” she replied, trying to keep her cool.

Jimin’s eyes flicked over her, her gaze lingering for a moment longer than expected. “Looks like you took my advice on dressing up,” she said, a hint of amusement in her tone. “Not that I’m surprised. You look… really nice.”

Heat rose in Y/N’s cheeks, and she tucked a stray lock of hair behind her ear, laughing softly. “Thanks. You look pretty good yourself,” she replied, hoping her voice didn’t betray how flustered she was.

Jimin chuckled, lifting two drinks from a nearby table and handing one to Y/N. “You know,” she started, leaning in a little closer so her voice wouldn’t get lost in the music, “there’s someone interesting I’ve noticed in the freshman class.”

“Oh?” Y/N asked, sipping her drink to disguise the nervous smile threatening to break out. “Who’s that?”

Jimin’s gaze softened, a playful glint dancing in her eyes. “Just someone who… caught my eye,” she replied, her voice casual but her expression intriguing. “Smart, funny, kind of oblivious sometimes.”

Y/N’s heart did a small leap, but she shrugged, taking Jimin’s words at face value. “That’s nice,” she said, assuming it was probably just friendly conversation. “Freshman class is full of interesting people.”

Jimin’s eyes softened with a hint of exasperation, her lips tilting up into a smirk. “Yeah, I guess it is,” she replied, giving Y/N a playful nudge. “But I think this one is a little more interesting than the rest. You should get to know her better.”

“Maybe,” Y/N replied, a hint of teasing in her voice. “But I’m not so sure she’d want to get to know me.”

“Oh, I think she would,” Jimin said, her tone flirtatious as she leaned closer, her warm breath sending shivers down Y/N's spine. “After all, who wouldn’t want to be friends with you?”

Y/N laughed nervously, the compliment making her cheeks flush. “You really think so?”

“Definitely,” Jimin said, her smile brightening. “You’re pretty unforgettable.”

Just then, a loud cheer erupted from the crowd nearby, breaking the moment. Jimin’s attention momentarily shifted, and Y/N seized the chance to collect herself.

“Want me to get us some drinks?” Jimin asked, her eyes sparkling with enthusiasm. 

“Sure! I could use one,” Y/N replied, trying to play it cool, even as her heart raced.

“Alright, don’t go anywhere!” Jimin winked before she turned and weaved her way through the bustling crowd. Y/N watched her go, feeling a flutter in her chest that she couldn’t quite explain.

--

Minutes passed, and Y/N found herself glancing toward the kitchen, expecting Jimin to reappear at any moment. But as the seconds stretched into what felt like an eternity, unease began to settle in. What’s taking so long?

Five minutes had come and gone, and still no sign of Jimin. Y/N took a sip of her drink, trying to shake off the nagging worry. It was a party, after all; it wasn’t unusual for people to get distracted. Yet, the more she waited, the more anxious she became.

Finally, unable to quell her curiosity any longer, Y/N decided to check on Jimin. She pushed through the throng of bodies, her heart pounding as she made her way toward the kitchen area. As she approached, she caught sight of Jimin standing near the counter, but her heart dropped as she noticed she was not alone.

Jimin was leaning in close to another freshman girl, their heads nearly touching as they laughed at something shared between them. The scene struck Y/N like a cold wave, the warmth of the party around her fading into a dull roar. 

Oh

Jimin’s relaxed demeanor and the way she tilted her head back in laughter sent a sharp pang of jealousy through Y/N. She couldn’t help but feel small and unimportant, an outsider watching from the sidelines. The easy chemistry between Jimin and the other girl was undeniable, and Y/N felt a familiar sting in her chest that she had hoped to avoid tonight.

With her heart racing and a knot tightening in her stomach, Y/N turned away, trying to push the unwanted thoughts from her mind. You’ve known her for a week, get ahold of yourself she reminded herself, but the thought felt hollow. She couldn’t deny that a part of her was disappointed, despite knowing Jimin had every right to talk to whomever she pleased.

Y/N made her way back to the dance floor, seeking solace in the vibrant energy of her friends. As she approached, Wonyoung and Yujin were still dancing, their laughter infectious, but Y/N felt out of place.

“Y/N! There you are!” Wonyoung exclaimed, pulling her into a quick spin. “We were wondering where you went! Gaeul is getting some drinks and I think Rei and Jiwon are in the bathroom, doing god knows what”

Y/N forced a smile, trying to shake off the earlier encounter. “Just checking on Jimin,” she said, her voice casual despite the turmoil inside. “She’s... busy.”

“Busy how?” Yujin asked, arching an eyebrow, her curiosity piqued.

Y/N shrugged, trying to play it cool. “Just talking to someone else. No big deal.”

Wonyoung looked at her knowingly. “Oh, you mean that girl over there?” She pointed to the corner where Jimin was still chatting with the other freshman. “Looks like they’re having fun.”

Y/N’s heart sank a little further. “Yeah, I guess,” she mumbled, feeling a wave of frustration wash over her. “It’s whatever.”

Yujin exchanged a glance with Wonyoung,

“Forget about her!” Yujin encouraged, her tone lightening as she grabbed Y/N’s hand. “Come dance with us! You’re here to have fun, remember?”

Y/N sighed but knew they were right. She had come to enjoy herself, and standing off to the side worrying about Jimin was not going to change anything. So, with a reluctant nod, she allowed her friends to pull her into the lively crowd, the pulsating music drowning out the worries that still swirled in her mind.

The bass pulsed through the dance floor as Y/N moved to the beat, slowly letting the music drown out her unease. She let herself get lost in the rhythm, and for a moment, she even forgot about Jimin chatting away with that other girl.

“Mind if I join you?” Yunjin’s voice broke through her thoughts, bright and full of confidence. She flashed a smile as Y/N blinked in surprise. Before Y/N could even respond, Yunjin had closed the gap between them, her hands finding a comfortable spot on Y/N’s waist as they started to move together.

Encouraged by Wonyoung and Yujin’s excited cheers, Y/N allowed herself to relax, finding herself caught up in the moment. Yunjin’s playful energy was contagious, and soon enough, they were laughing and dancing like they’d known each other for ages. With every playful flirt Yunjin tossed her way, Y/N felt herself blushing, but she leaned into it, glad for the distraction.

That’s when she felt it—someone watching them. She turned, catching sight of Jimin across the room, her gaze fixed and sharp. Jimin’s usual cool, laid-back demeanor was gone, replaced by something else entirely. Her jaw was set, her arms crossed as she watched Yunjin’s hands slide down to rest on Y/N’s hips, their bodies swaying closer than before.

Jimin pushed through the crowd, her eyes narrowing as she approached. By the time she reached them, Yunjin’s arm was draped over Y/N’s shoulder, and Y/N’s laugh had grown into a carefree smile. But as Jimin stepped right in front of them, Y/N felt the tension spark in the air.

“Hey, Y/N,” Jimin said, her tone measured, but her eyes betrayed a hint of irritation. “Been looking all over for you.”

Y/N hesitated, feeling the tension settle in her stomach. “Oh, um… didn’t mean to make you worry,” she replied, offering a small smile.

But Yunjin, still holding her close, wasn’t about to back down. “You’ve only known her for what, a week? I’m sure she was fine without you, Jimin,” she said with a smirk, her voice laced with a bit too much confidence.

Jimin’s eyes flicked to Yunjin, her gaze hardening. “You’d be surprised,” she replied, her tone calm but edged with something that made Y/N’s pulse quicken. “We’ve actually gotten to know each other pretty well.”

“Oh yeah?” Yunjin shot back, raising an eyebrow as she held Y/N a little tighter. “Well, looks like I’m getting to know her pretty well too.”

The tension between them was palpable, and Y/N felt herself caught right in the middle of it. She looked from Yunjin to Jimin, her heart hammering as the two seemed locked in a silent battle.

Jimin’s gaze never left Yunjin’s as she took a step closer, closing the distance between them. “I think Y/N can speak for herself,” she said coolly, looking at Y/N with an intensity that made her breath hitch. “Don’t you, Y/N?”

Y/N swallowed, feeling the weight of their gazes on her. She was painfully aware of Yunjin’s arm around her and the way Jimin’s eyes held hers with a mix of challenge and something else she couldn’t quite place. “I… um… I was just… dancing,” she stammered, her voice barely audible over the music.

Jimin’s lips tilted into a smirk as if she’d won some unspoken argument. She reached out, gently brushing her fingers along Y/N’s arm, her touch warm and grounding. “Mind if I steal you back?” she asked, her voice soft but laced with something that sent a shiver down Y/N’s spine.

Yunjin scoffed, still unwilling to give in. “You know, Jimin, if you wanted a dance, you could’ve just asked,” she said, challenging. “But it seems like Y/N was having a good time without you.”

Jimin’s eyes darkened, but she didn’t break eye contact. “Funny, I was about to say the same thing to you,” she replied, the corner of her mouth twitching up in a smile that held no warmth.

Y/N felt her cheeks burn as she realized just how intense the moment had become. Her friends had started to gather around, sensing the tension, and she could feel their curious gaze on her. Aeri, Minjeong and Yizhuo had also appeared beside Jimin, each watching the interaction with barely concealed interest.

“Everything alright here?” Aeri asked, her eyes darting between Jimin, Yunjin, and Y/N.

Y/N cleared her throat, suddenly feeling exposed under the watchful eyes of their friends. “Um, yeah, everything’s fine,” she said, giving a nervous laugh as she tried to defuse the tension. “Just… dancing.”

But Jimin’s gaze softened as she looked at her, and a flicker of something vulnerable appeared in her eyes, as if she were silently asking Y/N to choose her. “Y/N,” she said softly, reaching for her hand, “can we talk?”

Yunjin opened her mouth to protest, but Y/N, feeling overwhelmed, gently stepped back from both of them, her heart pounding. “Actually, I think I need some air,” she said quickly, her voice shaky. Without another word, she slipped out of their grasp and wove her way through the crowd, feeling the weight of their gazes on her as she hurried toward the exit.

The cool night air hit her as she stepped outside, her heart racing as she put more distance between herself and the party. Her phone buzzed repeatedly in her hand, and a quick glance revealed several messages from Jimin, each one growing more urgent, and a few from Yunjin as well. But she didn’t have it in her to respond.

She kept walking, her steps quickening until she was finally back at the quiet solace of her dorm. Once inside, she leaned against the door, letting out a long, shaky breath. Ignoring the continuous buzz of her phone, she only replied to a single message—Gaeul’s, who had texted to check in.

I’m safe. Just needed to get away. I’ll see you tomorrow, she typed before shutting off her phone and sinking onto her bed.

Hahaha, fuck.

Y/N screamed into her pillow. --

Y/N lay sprawled out on her bed, staring at her phone. Last night kept replaying in her mind. And all her other interactions with Jimin.

What am I doing? she thought. Why am I even overthinking this? Maybe Jimin was just being friendly, maybe that’s all it was. She’d probably done all those sweet things to dozens of freshmen before. Y/N felt a pang of embarrassment at how easily she’d gotten swept up by it all.

She decided to text her friends and turned on her phone.

Her phone buzzing woke her up of her 10 minute nap.

There is no motherfucking way.

--

Y/N couldn’t even send her final message before she heard a knock on the door. Fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck.

Taking a deep breath, she scrambled to check her reflection in the small mirror by the door, smoothing down her hair and pulling herself together. Okay, just act natural. Pretend it’s no big deal. But her hands shook as she finally opened the door.

There stood Jimin, looking effortlessly cool as always, with a casual hoodie and that soft, knowing smile that never failed to make Y/N’s heart flutter. She held up her phone, her gaze flickering between Y/N and the screen. “I believe I got a text meant for someone else?�� Her tone was playful, but there was something in her eyes—a glint of curiosity, maybe even amusement.

Heat rushed to Y/N’s face. “Wel! You see!!” She forced a laugh, hoping it didn’t sound as awkward as it felt. “That—that was not for you, obviously. Fuck, I am so sorry-”

Jimin let out a soft laugh, stepping into the room as Y/N shut the door. “It’s okay. Really,” she said, putting her phone away as she looked around the dorm. “I mean, I was a little…surprised, but also—” Her gaze softened, the smile turning sincere. “—I’m kind of glad I got it. Now I know I’m not the only one who’s been feeling something.”

“Hahaha, yeah, of course.” Y/N nodded. Then she blinked. “Wait, what?”

Jimin laughed. “You really are adorable.” She smiled. “I just mean…well, I’ve noticed you, too. I’ve noticed that it’s different, with you.” She paused, as if choosing her words carefully, her eyes never leaving Y/N’s. “And that’s not something I get to feel very often.”

Y/N felt her cheeks heat up, and she immediately looked down at her feet, a flustered laugh bubbling out. “Oh, well, um…” She bit her lip, struggling to form a coherent response. “I didn’t, uh, mean for you to…find out. Like, that. But, um…yeah, that’s…wow. Cool. That’s cool.”

Cool? There is no way brother.

Jimin let out a chuckle, and somehow that made it worse. “Tell you what,” she said, her tone as easygoing as ever. “Why don’t we grab a coffee this weekend? We can pretend I didn’t read that text, and maybe you can tell me more of what’s on your mind. Sounds fair?”

Y/N’s brain struggled to keep up. Coffee? She nodded so enthusiastically she probably looked like a bobblehead. “Yes! I mean, yes, sure, I’m down, sounds nice.”

I need to shut THE FUCK up.

Jimin’s eyes sparkled with amusement as she reached out, giving Y/N’s shoulder a playful nudge. “Relax,” she murmured, her voice soft. “It’s just coffee. No pressure.”

“Right, right, of course,” Y/N stammered, even as her heart pounded against her ribs. “Just…coffee.”

With a warm smile, Jimin lingered for a second, her gaze drifting from Y/N’s eyes to her lips and back up again. The air between them felt charged. Then, almost instinctively, Jimin leaned in, her hand finding Y/N’s waist.

Y/N’s breath hitched, her heart hammering in her chest as Jimin’s face moved closer. She could feel Jimin’s warmth, her soft breath fanning across her skin, and before she could think twice, their lips met in a gentle, lingering kiss. It was soft, tentative—yet filled with a warmth that sent a thrill through her entire body.

When they pulled back, Y/N was too stunned to do anything but stare at Jimin, her cheeks flushed and her mind racing. Jimin’s smile turned a little shyer, her thumb brushing lightly over Y/N’s hip before she took a small step back.

“I’ll text you the details,” she murmured, her eyes sparkling as she gave a little wave. With one last look, she disappeared down the hall, leaving Y/N breathless.

As soon as the door shut, Y/N sank onto her bed, covering her burning face with her hands.

She screeched.

[pbaz7]

ONE SHOT: FULL COURT PRESS

paige x azzi

warning: heavy drinking, suggestive content

word count: 12k

A/N: This was not supposed to be this long and it’s extremely chaotic/all over the place😭. it’s honestly a reflection of my brain. one shots are actually really hard to write and be comfortable with ending lol. they meet in a bar ✨. leave live reacts and comments if you can !!

—————————————————————————

October 2023

Paige was definitely drunk. With each shot she took the weight of everything didn’t seem to press down on her chest as heavy, it all became less suffocating. Basketball used to be her sanctuary, her place of peace. The one thing she could always count to be a breath of fresh air when she felt like she was drowning. But now, every game felt like a tsunami where perfection was the only acceptable outcome for her. She just wanted to feel normal sometimes, even if it was only for one night here and there at random bars.

The dimly lit bar she sat in currently offered the anonymity she craved. Or at least, she hoped it would. She swirled the ice in her glass, completely lost in her thoughts as she was zoned out staring at who knows what, when the door opened the bell catching her attention.

A girl walked in, exuding an effortless confidence that Paige hadn’t seen in a while. Her brown curls framed her striking face, tan skin glowing under the warm light of the bar. She was tall and had a quiet energy about her, the kind that made people take notice without her even trying. Paige found herself staring, immediately captivated, admiring every part of her face that she could see.

So without thinking, she signaled the bartender over. “Whatever she wants, it’s on me.”

The bartender nodded, and a few minutes later, the girl glanced in her direction, lifting her glass with a smile, a dimple popping as she did. At this acknowledgement Paige felt a spark of courage—or maybe it was just the alcohol—as she pushed herself out of her seat. Making her way over to where the girl was sitting.

“I figured I’d come introduce myself. I’m Paige. Paige Bueckers,” she said, licking her lips as she leaned casually against the bar, her usual confidence with women radiating off of her.

The girl smiled, setting her glass down as she extended her hand. “Azzi.”

Paige shook her hand casually brushing Azzi’s hand with her thumb, her blue eyes lingering on Azzi’s for just a beat too long. “Do you have a last name Azzi?”

Azzi’s lips curled into a playful smile. “Fudd. Azzi Fudd.”

Paige licked her lips, keeping her gaze steady as she took her in. “Well, it’s nice to meet you, Azzi Fudd. You’re gorgeous.”

Azzi tilted her head, as she studied Paige before saying. “Thank you superstar.”

Paige blinked, her confident smirk faltering for just a second. “Mmm, so you know who I am?”

Azzi took a slow sip of her drink, her eyes never leaving Paige’s. “Hard to miss in the basketball world. UConn’s golden girl, right?”

Paige chuckled, leaning in slightly as her charm slipped back into place. “Yeah, sure, something like that.” She tilted her head, her curiosity piqued. “What, you hoop?”

Azzi nodded, a small smile tugging at her lips. “I do.”

As Paige stood there the two of them falling into easy introductions, the world outside the bar seemed to be fading away. Azzi’s calm, confident demeanor was a breath of fresh air for Paige who was used to people throwing themselves at her. Azzi didn’t seem fazed by Paige’s notoriety, and her playful confidence kept Paige intrigued.

“So,” Azzi said, her brown eyes having a slight sparkle. “What brings you to a random bar in the middle of nowhere?”

Paige shrugged. “Maybe I needed a quick break. Or maybe I was just waiting for someone like you to walk in.”

Azzi laughed softly, lifting her drink for another sip as her eyes held Paige’s. “Someone like me, huh?”

Paige leaned in just a little, her tongue darting out to lick her lips again. “Yeah. Somebody exactly like you actually.”

Azzi’s gaze flickered down for just a moment before she tilted her head, leaning in slightly, her voice dropping intentionally. “I’m not sure you can handle someone like me.”

​​Paige met her gaze, the tension between them crackling, and without thinking, she let her eyes trail down Azzi’s body, then slowly back up before saying “I’ll be more than happy to show you.”

Azzi noticed the once over, a smile curving her lips as she watched it happen. “I’m not going to sleep with you if that’s what this is.”

Paige smirked, confidence still unwavering. “Who said I wanted to sleep with you?”

Azzi raised an eyebrow. “So, you just buy random girls drinks to chat with them?”

Paige hummed at this. “Touché…so what is it? I’m not your type?”

This time, Azzi’s gaze swept over Paige, pausing for just a beat longer than expected near her exposed abdomen before she replied, her voice low. “Mmm, I didn’t say that.”

At this, Paige's lips eased into another smile as she leaned closer. “Why not then?”

Azzi shrugged, her demeanor calm, even as her eyes stayed locked on Paige’s. “I don’t do one-night stands.”

Paige tilted her head, her smirk softening into something more genuine. “Who said it had to be just one night?”

Azzi let out a soft laugh, shaking her head. “I also don’t sleep with someone I just met.”

Paige with her elbows resting on the bar said, “Ahh ok..so, what’s the rule? Three dates? Five? I need to fill out an application?”

Azzi glanced up at Paige through her eyelashes, resting her cheek in her hand as she replied. “You’re really persistent.”

Paige’s smile widened as she looked at Azzi before saying, “It’s not every day I come across somebody as gorgeous as you.”

Azzi’s gaze lingered on Paige, the air between them a little heavy now. Her eyes flickered between Paige’s blue ones and her lips, a silent tension building as she tapped her finger lightly on the bar.

After a moment, Azzi leaned back, breaking the spell with a soft smile. “Let’s start with a conversation that doesn’t involve you trying to charm your way into something.”

Paige pretended to look offended. “Charm? This is just me being me.”

Azzi gave her a pointed look, though her smile remained. “And that’s what makes you dangerous.”

Paige’s grin widened. “You say dangerous like it’s a bad thing.”

Azzi shrugged, leaning back slightly. “Maybe I think it is…Or maybe I just want to keep you on your toes. You seem like the type who needs to be entertained.”

Paige raised an eyebrow, her voice dropping just enough to hold a playful edge. “Careful, Azzi. You’re starting to sound interested.”

Azzi smirked, her gaze still locked on Paige’s. “Never said I wasn’t. Just that you’re not going to charm your way into skipping the line.”

Paige hummed, leaning in slightly. “So there’s a line?”

Azzi chuckled, her tone teasing Paige now. “Maybe.”

Paige smiles saying, “Good thing I’m competitive. I can play the long game when it’s worth it”

Azzi chuckled softly, her eyes flickering with amusement. “That’s good to know.”

Paige smiled, a playful challenge in her eyes. “Guess I should sit down and get to know you then.”

Azzi gestured to the seat next to her, the corners of her mouth twitching upward. “Guess so.”

After this their conversation flowed effortlessly, covering everything from basketball to life outside the spotlight. Azzi talked about her experience playing for a smaller college, how she loved the game without the added pressure of constant media attention, though she still got some here and there. Paige found herself completely captivated by the stranger, sharing stories and laughing until her stomach hurt. She completely forgot about what made her show up to the bar in the first place.

Hours passed without either of them noticing. Drinks flowed between both of them, Paige making Azzi never paid for anything. By the time Paige glanced at her phone, it was nearly 2 a.m.

“Damn,” she said, shaking her head. “I didn’t realize how late it was.”

Azzi smiled at her. “Time flies when you’re having fun, huh?”

Paige chuckled, a playful edge to her voice. “Who said I was having fun?”

Azzi tilted her head, a hint of tipsiness creeping into her expression as she studied Paige. “You didn’t have fun with me?”

Paige smirked at Azzi’s tone, her blue eyes a little glossy from her drinks. “We could have a lot more fun if you stop playing hard to get.”

Azzi’s lips curved into a smile. “I’m sure we could, but I’m not that easy.”

Paige’s eyebrows lifted, her confidence undeterred. “Like I said, I’m up for the challenge.”

Azzi tilted her head, her gaze meeting Paige’s with a spark of amusement. “Are you now?”

“Absolutely” Paige said simply as she reached for her phone, a sly grin on her lips as she began to unlock it but before she could speak again, Azzi leaned forward speaking to the bartender, catching Paige's attention.

“Excuse me,” Azzi said, glancing at the bartender. “Mind if I borrow a pen?”

The bartender passed her a pen, and without missing a beat, Azzi reached for Paige’s hand, her fingers brushing lightly over Paige’s skin as she began writing her number on the palm of her hand.

Paige watched, amusement flickering in her eyes. When Azzi finished, she glanced down at the number and then met Azzi’s gaze, laughing slightly. “You could’ve just put it in my phone, you know.”

Azzi capped the pen with a smile, standing up as she put on her jacket. “I could’ve, but this leaves more of an impression.”

She leaned in just slightly, her breath warm against Paige’s ear as she added, “And I want to make sure you’re still thinking of me in the morning.”

With that, Azzi straightened up, her eyes sparkling as she gave Paige one last lingering look before walking out of the bar.

Paige sat there, staring after her, a wide smile spreading across her face as she realized she was grinning like an idiot.

As she walked out into the cool air herself, Paige couldn’t help but smile. Tonight, she hadn’t been the golden girl, the star player, or the media’s favorite headline. She’d just been Paige, and she liked who she’d met along the way.

…

Over the next few weeks, Paige and Azzi fell into an effortless rhythm. Their phones rarely stayed silent, a constant stream of texts flowing between them from morning until night.

Dimples : What’s your pre-game ritual?

Superstar: Wouldn’t you like to know?

Dimples : I would, actually. I bet it’s something super intense like staring at a basketball for an hour to try to absorb its energy.

Superstar: Lmao. You always think you’re so funny.

Dimples : No denial though, huh? Interesting…

Between the teasing texts, there were long, late-night phone calls where their conversations would drift from basketball to their favorite movies, and childhood stories. Of course Paige made sure she flirted in between.

Paige often found herself lying in bed, the sound of Azzi’s laughter filling her ears through the speaker. “Wait, so you’re telling me you tried to dunk on your brother at eight years old?” Paige asked, barely holding back her own laugh as she tried to hear the story.

“Hey, I had big dreams!” Azzi replied. “Did I fail miserably? Yes. Did I get grounded for breaking the hoop? Also yes.”

“I need to see baby Azzi with big hoop dreams,” Paige teased.

“I’ll show you if you admit that I’d beat you in a one-on-one,” Azzi quipped back.

“That’s never happening,” Paige retorted, her grin so wide it hurt.

The banter always came naturally, but beyond the jokes, there were quieter, more vulnerable moments. Paige always claiming that nobody get’s her but Azzi as she poured out her feelings about basketball and how she didn’t really love it as much anymore.

But one evening, Azzi sent Paige a clip of her latest game with a message: Tell me what you think.

Paige opened the video and immediately dialed her number.

“Alright,” Paige began as soon as Azzi picked up. “Your footwork on that first drive? Chef’s kiss. But…”

“But?” Azzi prompted, a smile in her voice.

“You hesitated for a second on that three in the second quarter. You had more than enough space Azzi.”

Azzi sighed. “I know. I over-thought it.”

They stayed on the phone for hours, analyzing plays, discussing Azzi’s positioning, and even breaking down potential opponents going forward. Paige’s passion for the game peaked through the conversation, and Azzi soaked it all in, listening intently with a huge smile on her face hearing an unusual excitement in Paige’s voice as she talked about basketball.

At one point, Paige teased, “Maybe I should just be your coach.”

Azzi laughed. “Or maybe you could just transfer and come help us win. Imagine the headlines.”

Paige’s voice dropped into a softer, more teasing tone. “You just want me around more.”

“Maybe I do,” Azzi replied, the playful edge in her voice unmistakable.

When they weren’t buried in film, their in-person meetups were filled with just as much energy. Sitting in a booth at another quiet bar, Paige and Azzi leaned in close, the low hum of conversation buzzing around them.

Paige smirked, her eyes sparkling with mischief. “So, when are you finally going to admit that I have game?”

Azzi tilted her head, pretending to think it over. “Ehh, I don’t know. You’re more of a fast-break kind of girl—you had a strong start, but you don’t seem to have the stamina to finish. You’ve been slacking lately.”

Paige dropped her jaw, feigning offense. “Wowww. So now you’re questioning my follow-through?”

Azzi grinned, shrugging. “I’m just saying, I’m not easily impressed.”

“Oh, I’ve noticed,” Paige shot back. “But you keep showing up, so I must be doing something right.”

Azzi chuckled, shaking her head. “Is that line supposed to impress me?”

“Is it working?” Paige’s voice was low but still confident.

Azzi’s eyes twinkled. “Maybe.”

The line between playful flirting and genuine connection blurred more each time they were together. Azzi became Paige’s sounding board, someone she could spill her feelings to; her safe space. And with every interaction, Paige felt herself being pulled deeper into Azzi’s orbit.

…

December 2023

The glow of Paige’s phone screen lit up her dark room as she sat on the edge of her bed, her fingers scrolling through endless tweets and headlines. Paige Bueckers chokes again. Overhyped and underwhelming. She’ll never live up to the UConn legends before her.

Her heart raced as she read the brutal critiques. The game hadn’t even been bad. They’d won, she’d put up solid numbers, but the narrative didn’t care about solid. Anything less than perfection was failure in their eyes. And now, the relentless noise echoed in her mind.

She’ll never lead UConn to a championship.

She doesn’t deserve to go high in the draft.

Just another overrated star.

The pressure mounted, her chest tightening with every thought. Her breathing grew a little shallow, and her hands trembled as she gripped her phone. It felt like her ribcage was collapsing in on itself, each breath harder to take.

She squeezed her eyes shut, trying to force the panic away. She needed air, needed something—someone.

As if the universe heard her silent plea, her phone rang. Azzi’s name flashed across the screen, the sight alone lifting some weight off of Paige’s chest. Her hand trembled slightly as she swiped to answer.

“Wassup, pretty,” Paige said, her voice shaky but laced with soft flirtation.

Azzi let out a light laugh on the other end, her voice warm. “I can tell you’re overthinking just by your voice Paige.” She paused, letting the words sink in before adding, “I watched your game—you played great.”

Paige exhaled, a mix of disbelief and self-doubt slipping into her tone. “Eh.”

“Eh, my ass,” Azzi shot back without hesitation. “What are you doing?”

Paige took a deep breath, glancing around her quiet room. “Nothing. Just thinking.”

Azzi’s voice softened. “You think too much. You’re gonna give that pretty face of yours wrinkles before you’re 30.”

“I know,” Paige admitted, a faint smile tugging at her lips despite the heaviness in her chest.

“How do you wanna play it tonight?” Azzi asked gently, her question open but filled with understanding.

Paige hesitated for a moment, then sighed, her voice quieter this time. “I miss you.”

Azzi didn’t hesitate. “I miss you more. You wanna talk about it?”

Paige nodded even though Azzi couldn’t see her, her voice steadying just slightly. “Yeah. I do.”

Before Azzi could ask another question Paige said,. “Do you have practice tomorrow?”

“No, why?” Azzi replied, a hint of curiosity in her tone.

Paige hesitated for only a moment before asking, “Do you wanna come over?”

Azzi didn’t need to think long. “It’ll take me some time.”

“That’s fine,” Paige said softly, her voice tinged with relief.

“Ok,” Azzi said, already moving. “Tell me what’s wrong while I get my stuff together.”

Paige let out a shaky sigh. “It’s just… I can’t stop thinking about what they’re saying. That I’ll never be good enough. That I don’t deserve this.”

Azzi’s tone shifted as she put her phone on speaker to talk as she gathered some things she needed. “You’ve already proven so much. You’re one of the best, and anyone who actually has a brain and knows basketball can see that. The rest? They’re just noise. And we both know you’re more than that.”

Paige felt a lump rise in her throat, but a small smile tugged at her lips. “You always have a counterpoint to anything I say.”

“Of course I do,” Azzi teased lightly. “It’s part of my charm. Now keep going.”

Paige nodded, her voice steadier now as she began to open up, the comfort of Azzi’s presence—even from afar—slowly quieting the storm in her mind.

When Azzi arrived, Paige opened the door, pulling her into a hug that was everything Paige needed in that moment. Paige held on a little longer than usual, her grip tight as if Azzi might slip away. Azzi just rested her chin briefly on Paige’s shoulder, allowing her all the time she needed, before Paige finally pulled back.

“Thanks for coming,” Paige said quietly, her voice tinged with a little vulnerability.

Azzi gave her a small, reassuring smile. “Of course.”

Paige guided Azzi into the living room, where the familiar hum of laughter and chatter filled the space. KK and Ice were sprawled on the couch arguing about something, while Nika sat cross-legged in the armchair, her phone in hand. Aubrey leaned against the wall, lazily tossing a small ball into the air. The TV was paused on a game, though it was clear they hadn’t been paying much attention.

“Aye,” Paige began, keeping a steady hand on Azzi’s back. “This is Azzi.”

Ice gave her a friendly wave, her usual laid-back demeanor with anyone but Paige and KK evident. “Hey, it’s nice to finally meet you,” she said with a smile.

Nika glanced up, a smirk already forming. “Azzi, huh?” she said, dragging the name out teasingly. “Paige talks about you all the time.”

Aubrey gave a quiet laugh, offering a small nod. “Wassup Azzi,” she said, her tone kind although she didn’t say much else.

KK, on the other hand, wasted no time leaning forward with her trademark grin. “Girly pop, you’re way too pretty for her,” she teased, pointing a finger toward Paige.

Before anyone could react, Ice smacked KK’s arm, shaking her head. “Really, KK? Read the room.”

Paige rolled her eyes, brushing off the comment, though a faint blush crept up her neck. “Ignore her,” she muttered, looking at Azzi.

Azzi chuckled softly, her warm gaze flickering between everyone. “It’s nice to meet you guys in person,” she said smoothly.

Paige, ready to retreat from the chaos, gently tugged Azzi’s hand. “Let’s go to my room,” she said, her tone soft but insistent.

Azzi gave a small wave to the group. “See you guys later,” she said, her voice laced with light amusement at the team as she followed Paige down the hallway.

Once inside Paige’s room, the tension from earlier seemed to dissipate. The familiar scent of vanilla and a faint hint of lavender filled the air, and Azzi kicked off her sneakers by the door, glancing around the cozy space. Paige’s bed was unmade, a mix of fluffy pillows and a purple comforter that looked as if it had been hastily thrown back in place.

Azzi smiled faintly, dropping her bag by the dresser before moving to sit on the edge of the bed. She leaned back on her hands, her gaze following Paige as she plopped onto the mattress beside her, remote in hand.

“So,” Paige began, scrolling through Netflix, the soft glow of the TV casting flickering shadows on the walls. “What are you in the mood for? Something funny? Scary? A rom-com?”

Azzi raised an eyebrow. “Rom-com? Is that your go-to move when you have somebody here?”

Paige snorted, rolling her eyes as she kept scrolling. “Please, I don’t need a movie to impress you.”

“Oh, really?” Azzi teased, shifting to sit cross-legged on the bed. “Then why are you trying so hard to pick the perfect movie?”

Paige paused her scrolling to glance over at her. “I’m not trying hard. I’m just being considerate of my company.”

“Sure you are,” Azzi replied, her voice laced with amusement. She reached out, playfully nudging Paige’s arm.

Paige chuckled, turning her attention back to the screen. “Alright, what about this one?” she asked, landing on an action movie.

Azzi tilted her head, pretending to deliberate. “Eh, too much testosterone,” she joked.

Paige huffed dramatically, tossing the remote onto the bed and leaning back against the headboard. “You’re impossible, you know that?”

Azzi grinned, leaning back beside her, their shoulders brushing now. “So you’ve said but still, here you are, inviting me over and trying to impress me.”

Paige shook her head, a laugh slipping out as she grabbed her phone from the nightstand. “You’re annoying.”

Azzi just smiled, watching Paige scroll through her phone for a moment. “You good now?” she asked softly, her tone shifting to something gentler as she hints at what they were talking about a while ago.

Paige glanced at her, the teasing smirk fading into something more sincere. “Yeah,” she said after a moment. “Thanks for coming.”

Azzi’s smile softened, her eyes meeting Paige’s. “You don’t have to thank me,” she said quietly.

For a moment, neither of them said anything. The room was quiet, save for the faint hum of the TV and the occasional muffled laughter from the living room. It wasn’t awkward, though—it was comfortable, the kind of silence that felt more like understanding than absence.

Paige nudged Azzi’s knee with her own. “You pick the movie, since you’re so picky.”

Azzi laughed, reaching for the remote. “Alright, but no complaints if it’s a rom-com.”

Paige laughs saying “I’ll definitely laugh at you but sure.”

Azzi finally settled on a comedy, something light enough to keep playing in the background but not too distracting. She set the remote down with a triumphant smile and leaned back against the headboard.

“See? No rom-com,” she teased, shooting a smug look at Paige.

Paige smirked, turning her body slightly to face Azzi. “I’m impressed. You got range.”

Azzi tilted her head, her smile softening. “What can I say? I like to keep people guessing.”

The movie began, but neither of them seemed to care much about the witty banter on-screen. Instead, their attention shifted entirely to each other. Paige’s fingers absentmindedly played with the hem of her hoodie as she leaned in just enough to close the space between them slightly.

“What else should I know about you, Azzi Fudd?”

Azzi chuckled, her gaze dipping briefly to Paige’s lips before flicking back up. “I’m not that mysterious. I think you’ve got me all figured out by now.”

Paige leaned in a bit closer, her elbow resting on the pillow between them. “Not even close,” she said, her voice quieter now, a touch more serious.

“Alright, then. Ask me something.”

Paige raised an eyebrow, pretending to consider it as her fingers idly tapped against her leg. “Okay. What’s your biggest pet peeve?”

Azzi laughed, leaning back slightly. “Oh, that’s easy. People who chew with their mouths open.”

Paige laughed too, her nose scrunching adorably. “That’s fair. What about…” She paused, her tone shifting to something more playful. “Biggest turn-on?”

Azzi’s eyebrows shot up, and she gave Paige a pointed look. “Very smooth transition, Paige.”

Paige grinned, unapologetic. “What can I say? I’ve been curious.”

Azzi bit her lip, her gaze steady as she considered her response. “Confidence,” she said finally. “Someone who knows what they want.”

Paige’s smirk widened, and she leaned in just enough to blur the line between teasing and daring. “Good to know,” she murmured, her blue eyes locked on Azzi’s.

Azzi tilted her head, a playful glint in her eyes as she studied Paige. “Alright, your turn. What’s your most embarrassing moment?”

Paige groaned, covering her face with one hand. “Oh, that’s not fair. There are way too many to choose from.”

Azzi laughed softly, nudging Paige’s leg with her foot. “Come on, just one. I promise not to laugh... too much.”

Paige peeked at her through her fingers, her lips twitching. “Fine. When I was in high school, I was running and I tripped trying to jump over the hurdle. Full-on faceplant in front of the whole crowd.”

Azzi burst out laughing, her hand flying to her chest. “Please tell me there’s a video of that.”

“There probably is,” Paige admitted, laughing along with her. “But good luck finding it.”

Azzi shook her head, her laughter tapering off as her gaze softened. “Okay, that’s not so bad. At least you owned it.”

Paige leaned back, crossing her arms with a mock pout. “Your turn to embarrass yourself, then. What’s something you did that you wish you could forget?”

Azzi smiled slyly, her voice dropping just a touch. “I really don’t get embarrassed easily. But...” She hesitated, her eyes flicking to Paige’s lips for a split second before meeting her gaze again. “I have been caught staring at someone a little too long before.”

Paige raised an eyebrow, her smirk creeping back. “Oh, really? Who’s the lucky someone?”

Azzi’s smile grew, and she leaned in slightly, her voice smooth as she tried to move things along. “Well, right now, it’s you.”

Paige raised an eyebrow, her tone laced with curiosity and a hint of teasing. “Right now? So, who was it another time?”

Azzi chuckled, shaking her head. “Oh, no, it’s not like that. The other time was a complete misunderstanding. I got lost in thought, I wasn't even looking at the person, but they thought I was checking them out.”

Paige’s lips twitched into a smirk. “Ahh, got you. So, you accidentally made someone’s day, huh?”

Azzi laughed softly, her eyes flickering with amusement as she looked at Paige. “Something like that. But this time, no misunderstandings. I know exactly what I’m looking at.”

Paige tilted her head, her gaze holding Azzi’s. “And what are you looking at?”

Azzi leaned in slightly, her voice dropping a notch. “Someone who swears she’s hard to fluster but has been blushing for the past five minutes.”

Paige felt the warmth creep up her cheeks, but she didn’t break eye contact, her confidence undeterred. “I’m just giving you the satisfaction. Didn’t want you to think you weren’t having an effect.”

Azzi grinned, her tongue brushing over her bottom lip. “Oh, don’t worry. I already know I am.”

Paige leaned back slightly, resting her weight on her hands. “Confident, aren’t you?”

Azzi mirrored her movement, leaning back as well, her eyes gleaming. “I’d say it’s justified. What do you think?”

Paige’s gaze flickered down to Azzi’s lips for a brief moment before meeting her eyes again. “I think you like to keep me on my toes.”

Azzi’s smirk deepened. “You’re telling me you don’t enjoy it?”

The air between them felt a little charged now, their playful exchange laced with unspoken tension. Paige tilted her head, “I didn’t say that.”

Azzi’s gaze dropped to the string of Paige’s hoodie, grabbing it to twist it slowly around her finger as the air between them shifted. Her voice softened. “You know, I’ve been thinking about something.”

Paige raised an eyebrow, leaning slightly closer, her attention fixed on Azzi. “What’s that?”

Azzi glanced up, her eyes locking onto Paige’s. “You’re the one who keeps saying how much fun we could have. But…” She let the word hang in the air, her fingers releasing the string and brushing lightly against Paige’s chest. “You haven’t even tried to kiss me.”

Paige blinked, her breath catching for a moment before a slow smirk tugged at her lips. “You’re the one who stopped us last time, remember? Told me I needed to figure my stuff out first.”

Azzi tilted her head, her voice growing softer, almost challenging. “That was a month ago, Paige. Don’t tell me you’re still waiting for permission.”

Paige smirked as she leaned closer, their faces inches apart. “So I take it there’s no line anymore?”

Azzi let out a soft chuckle, her gaze steady. “Paige, the line was gone as soon as you sat next to me at that bar.”

Something shifted in Paige’s expression—her smirk fading into something more serious, more intent. Without another word, she reached out, her hand cupping Azzi’s jaw with a gentle firmness. She held her there for a moment, their eyes locking as if waiting for any sign of hesitation.

When none came, Paige leaned in, closing the distance as her lips brushed against Azzi’s in a slow kiss. Azzi exhaled softly through her nose, her hand finding its way to Paige’s hoodie, gripping the fabric as she leaned into the kiss, melting into the moment.

Paige, emboldened by Azzi’s response, slid her hands to Azzi’s waist, effortlessly pulling her into her lap. Azzi let out a quiet sound at this but didn’t pull away, her arms wrapping around Paige’s neck as their kiss deepened. The air between them grew heavier, the couple of months of tension dissolving.

After some time, Azzi finally broke the kiss, her forehead resting against Paige’s as she caught her breath. Her lips curved into a small smirk, but there was a flicker of curiosity in her eyes. “Should I be concerned at how good you are at this?”

Paige laughed softly, her hands settling on Azzi’s hips as she shook her head. “Nope. Not at all.”

For a moment, Azzi’s gaze faltered, a brief flicker of hesitation crossing her face, but it was gone as quickly as it appeared. Without saying anything else, she leaned back in, her hands cupping Paige’s jaw as she pulled her into another kiss, this one a little more sloppy, filled with the kind of urgency that had been building between them for months.

As the kiss deepened, Paige’s hands roamed Azzi’s sides, her thumbs brushing over the bare skin just above her waistband. The heat between them grew quickly, and when Azzi’s hands tugged slightly at Paige’s hoodie, Paige took the cue immediately. She pulled it off in one smooth motion, leaving her in just a sports bra. Azzi followed without hesitation, peeling her shirt off and tossing it aside before their lips met again.

The contact of skin against skin heightened the tension, and Paige wasted no time shifting their position. She slid her hands beneath Azzi, lifting her off her lap and laying her down against the bed. Hovering over her, Paige’s blue eyes locked on Azzi’s, searching for any sign of doubt. But all she saw was anticipation, the flicker of trust and desire that had been simmering between them.

Paige leaned down, her lips brushing over Azzi’s once more before trailing a path down her jawline, then lower, pressing slow, deliberate kisses along the curve of her neck. Azzi’s breath hitched, her fingers tangling in Paige’s hair as her body arched slightly beneath her, silently encouraging her.

Paige’s lips pressed against Azzi’s neck with a renewed intensity, her hands roaming Azzi’s body more freely as she left soft marks on her skin. Azzi’s breath came in shallow gasps, her fingers tightening in Paige’s hair, urging her on. The sensation of Paige’s lips leaving heated trails across her neck made Azzi’s chest rise and fall in a quick rhythm, and she couldn't help but vocalize her pleasure. “Fuck, you’re good at this,” Azzi murmured, the words only spurring Paige on.

As Paige continued, inching lower to Azzi’s chest, she could feel Azzi’s body tremble slightly beneath her, her pulse racing. Azzi’s hands moved to Paige’s shoulders, a firm grip on her as she suddenly pulled Paige up to meet her lips in a desperate, heated kiss. Azzi broke it after a few seconds, pulling back just enough to catch her breath.

“Your teammates are here,” Azzi said softly, a hint of amusement in her voice but also a recognition of the reality they were both avoiding.

Paige, barely taking a moment to breathe, flashed a smile. “The walls are thick.”

Azzi raised an eyebrow at her, a teasing glint in her eyes. “You sure?”

Paige laughed softly, brushing her lips over Azzi's neck as she whispered, “I swear,” her voice low and filled with a mischievous edge as she went back to kissing Azzi’s neck.

As she kissed down her neck again, Azzi’s breath caught, her body reacting everytime Paige’s warm lips sucked on her neck. She let out a soft moan, her fingers threading into Paige’s hair, pulling her closer. “Fuck, okay,” she gasped, her voice trembling slightly with the intensity of the moment.

Azzi's eyes fluttered shut, trying to keep control, but it was becoming harder with every kiss, every stroke of Paige's lips against her skin. She exhaled sharply, shaking her head slightly, whispering, “I’m still going to be quiet, though.”

Paige nodded against her, her lips brushing just below Azzi’s sports bra, a soft hum of agreement escaping her. She was about to lower herself again when—knock knock.

Paige groaned softly, dropping her forehead to Azzi’s stomach in frustration. "Please, no," she muttered under her breath.

The knock came again, this time firmer, more insistent.

Azzi chuckled softly, a breathy laugh escaping her as she ran her fingers through Paige’s hair, her smile still teasing despite the interruption.

Paige groaned, reluctantly sitting up and adjusting her sweats that were hanging low on her hips. She threw a quick glance at Azzi, giving her an apologetic smile before getting up to answer the door.

She cracked it open just enough to keep Azzi out of view. On the other side stood Ayanna, looking a little awkward. She glanced up and down Paige’s figure before pausing, her eyes widening when she realized what Paige had been in the middle of. "Oh shit, sorry," Ayanna blurted out laughing a little. "I didn’t know you were... busy."

Paige laughed softly, rolling her eyes. "It’s fine, Yanna. Wassup?"

Ayanna gave a grin, still standing there awkwardly. "I just wanted to borrow one of your chains... the long silver one?" she asked, her eyes flicking to the jewelry box that sat on a nearby shelf.

Paige nodded and stepped aside, making room for Ayanna to enter. She walked over to her large jewelry box, pulling it open to search for the chain. "Sure," Paige muttered, her voice still tinged with a bit of frustration from the interrupted moment.

As Ayanna stepped in, she glanced over at Azzi, who was still laying on the bed, a playful grin curling on her lips. "Hey, uh, I’m Ayanna. Sorry for interrupting," she apologized, raising a hand in greeting.

Azzi’s laughter rang out as she shot Ayanna a look. "Don’t worry about it," she said, her voice light.

Ayanna looked between the two of them, eyes lingering the clear marks Paige left. She paused for a second, her lips quirking into a grin as she nodded toward the bed. "Seems like you two were having a good time," she said, a knowing glint in her eyes.

Paige couldn’t help but chuckle at the subtle remark. "We were," she admitted, shooting Azzi a quick glance as she found the chain Ayanna had asked for. "But I guess it’ll have to wait." She handed the chain over to Ayanna, who accepted it with a grateful nod.

"Thanks," Ayanna said, giving both of them a sheepish smile. "I’ll leave you two to it. Don’t want to get in the way."

Paige gave her a smile, relieved that she could now finally get back to Azzi. "No problem," she said with a slight chuckle. "See you later."

As Ayanna left, closing the door softly behind her, Paige turned back to Azzi with a sly grin, her eyes still a little dark. She crossed the room and climbed back onto the bed, settling on top of Azzi once more.

"Now," Paige murmured, leaning down to capture Azzi's lips in a slow kiss, "where were we?"

Azzi’s hands found their way to Paige’s waist as she returned the kiss, the tension between them building again. But just as the moment began to intensify, Azzi gently pressed a hand against Paige’s shoulder, breaking the kiss with a soft laugh.

Paige blinked, confused. "What’s wrong?"

Azzi bit her lip, her cheeks tinted pink as she chuckled. "That was the universe trying to save me from the embarrassment of your team hearing me," she teased, her voice light but carrying a hint of sincerity.

Paige groaned dramatically, burying her face in Azzi’s neck before muttering, "The universe hates me." With a reluctant sigh, she pushed herself off of Azzi and flopped down beside her, one arm draping over Azzi’s stomach as she stared at the ceiling.

Azzi turned her head to look at Paige, her teasing smirk softening into something more affectionate. “You know,” she said, brushing a strand of hair from Paige’s face, “I’ve learned something about you.”

Paige raised an eyebrow. “Oh yeah? What’s that?”

Azzi grinned, “You’re pretty dramatic.”

Paige huffed out a laugh, tilting her head toward Azzi. “I’m allowed to be dramatic—it’s been a long day.”

Azzi chuckled at this, leaning in to press a soft kiss to Paige’s cheek. “Fair enough,” she murmured. Reaching over, she grabbed the remote from where it lay forgotten on the bed.

“Alright,” Azzi said, settling back against the pillows. “Let’s find something we’ll actually watch this time.”

Paige smiled, her body relaxing as she shifted closer to Azzi, the moment between them now filled with a comforting ease.

…

January 2024

Paige had always been used to the spotlight, the constant expectations and scrutiny from the media. But after a recent game—one that, in her mind, had gone just fine—she was overwhelmed by the pressure. The game had been solid, not spectacular, but because she didn’t score 30, the media called it a "bad game." The headlines came fast, and her phone blew up with comments about how she didn’t deserve her projected draft position, how she would never be the one to lead UConn to a championship.

She drowned her frustration in alcohol at the bar where she and Azzi had met months ago. Paige absolutely hated feeling this way, lost in the opinions of others, feeling disconnected from her own love for the game. She ordered round after round, ignoring the warm buzz at the back of her mind as she tried to numb the constant spiral of negative thoughts.

Azzi had been texting Paige all night, but Paige had ignored the messages. She wanted to be left alone with her thoughts, no matter how dark they were, no matter how awful they made her feel.

At some point during the night, Azzi showed up. She had been worried when Paige’s messages stopped coming, and after doing a quick glance at socials she had a feeling Paige would be at the bar. Finding her slumped over at a corner table, nearly incoherent from the alcohol, Azzi rushed over, concerned. She managed to get Paige into her car and back to her place, basically carrying her to her room.

The room is dim, the only light coming from a lamp in the corner, casting long shadows across the floor. Paige stumbles as Azzi helps her sit on the edge of the bed, her movements slow and unsteady from the alcohol. Her face is flushed, her hair messy, and her eyes, though half-lidded with drunken exhaustion, are filled with something deeper—something darker, Paige looked broken.

Azzi pulls the blankets over her, but Paige swats them away, too restless, too tangled in her own thoughts.

"Azzi..." Paige’s voice is slurred. She lifts her head, locking eyes with Azzi. "I don’t even care anymore. About any of this." She gestures vaguely, her hand trembling slightly, as if the words themselves are heavy. "Basketball. The fans. The media. All of it. It doesn't matter. It never will. I hate it now Az.

Azzi, who had been sitting beside her, quietly watching Paige’s descent, let out a soft sigh. She watches Paige closely, trying to gauge if she’s speaking from the weight of the alcohol or if this is something deeper—something Paige can’t suppress anymore.

But Paige’s next words slice through the haze of drunkenness with a clarity that leaves Azzi speechless and heartbroken for the girl she’s grown to care about so much.

"My mom… she won’t even look at me if I’m not perfect." Paige's voice cracks on the last word, and her eyes well up, her vision blurring as she blinks hard. She doesn’t try to hide it. "If I don’t score enough, if I don’t win enough, if I’m not the best, she… she won’t even talk to me. It’s like I don’t exist unless I’m this… this thing she made me out to be." Her hands are shaking now, her chest tight, breath hitching as she speaks faster, more urgently. "I hate it. I hate how everyone just looks at me like I’m some fucking… machine that’s supposed to perform. I hate that I don’t even know who I am without all of it. Without the games, without the applause, without the pressure. I’m just… nothing."

Her voice breaks as she lets out a small sob, her body trembling as the weight of her own words crashes over her. Paige tilts her head back, staring at the ceiling, trying to steady her breathing, trying to hold herself together.

Azzi sat frozen for a moment, her chest tightening as she listened to Paige’s words. The rawness in her voice, the cracks of vulnerability that Paige so rarely let show, cut deeper than anything Azzi had ever heard. Without thinking, she reached out, her hand finding Paige’s and gripping it tightly, grounding her.

"That’s not true," Azzi replies softly, her voice steady but warm. "You're not a 'nothing' to me. You’re someone who’s hurting. And that’s okay. It’s okay to hurt." She lowers her gaze to the floor for a moment, gathering her thoughts. When she speaks again, her voice is firmer, more certain. "You don’t have to be perfect. You’re allowed to be flawed. We all are. I know what it’s like, feeling like you’re not enough—like you’ll never be enough, no matter how hard you try."

Paige’s gaze drifts downward, her thoughts swimming in a haze of alcohol and self-doubt. She looks up at Azzi, but her words come out bitter, a defense mechanism against the intense emotions bubbling just below the surface.

"You wouldn’t even entertain me if I wasn’t who I am," Paige mutters, almost too quietly for Azzi to hear. "I’m just a player on a pedestal. If I wasn’t who I am—if I was just… me—you wouldn’t even be here right now. You wouldn’t have talked to me that night.”

The words sting, hanging in the air like a cold weight. Azzi’s heart skips a beat, the sharp edge of Paige’s insecurity cutting deeper than she expected. She doesn’t respond immediately, unsure if the alcohol has distorted Paige's perception or if there’s truth in the words that sting too much to ignore.

For a long moment, Azzi simply watches Paige, her expression softening. Despite the hurt she feels from the insinuation, she knows this is just another layer of Paige’s pain speaking through her, the doubt and loneliness that plague her when she’s this vulnerable.

Azzi leans in slowly, and without saying a word, presses a gentle kiss to Paige’s cheek. It’s soft—like a quiet reassurance, an act of comfort without expectation. Paige’s eyes flutter, and she flinches just slightly, as though the unexpected touch has made her feel something she wasn’t prepared for, a softness she hasn’t felt in a while. So she doesn’t pull away.

Azzi pulls back just enough to meet her eyes, her voice gentle but firm. "That couldn’t be further from the truth and you know that Paige. You’re drunk so we’re not going to talk about this tonight."

Paige opens her mouth to say something, but the words never come. Instead, she sinks back into the bed, her body limp from the weight of the alcohol and the emotions swirling inside her.

Azzi stands, her heart still aching for Paige, but knowing the best thing she can do right now is give her space. She takes a deep breath, turns away, and heads toward the door.

"Get some rest," Azzi says softly, her voice like a whisper in the quiet room. "You don’t have to figure all of this out tonight. Just sleep, Paige."

Without another word, she leaves the room, closing the door behind her with a soft click. Paige can hear her footsteps down the hallway, moving further away. When she lies back against the pillows, the room feels impossibly empty.

Azzi settles down on the couch in the living room, the silence between them thick and unresolved. She pulls a blanket over her, eyes closed but unable to drift into sleep. There’s so much she wants to say to Paige, so much she wants to reassure her of. But right now, all she can do is wait—wait for Paige to come to terms with her own truth, and for herself to figure out how to be there when Paige is ready to hear it.

Azzi exhales softly into the dark, wishing she could fix it all, but knowing that this journey is one Paige has to take on her own.

The next morning, Paige wakes up with a splitting headache, her heart racing with the sudden realization of figuring out where she was. Paige groaned, pressing her palms against her temples as the pounding in her head intensified. The faint morning light streaming through the blinds felt like a spotlight, amplifying her discomfort. “Fuck, please no,” she muttered hoarsely, her voice scratchy and weak. Her heart raced slightly as she tried to piece together the events of the night before.

Where the hell am I? What did I do? The questions spiraled, sending a wave of nausea through her as flashes of the bar, the drinks, and her overwhelming feelings surfaced. A cold knot of dread formed in her chest.

Fuck Did I… do something? With someone that wasn’t… The thought made her stomach churn, guilt clawing at her even though she and Azzi weren’t technically together. Her memories were blurry, but the fear lingered, and she refused to let herself sink deeper into the pit of self-loathing.

Forcing her heavy limbs to cooperate, Paige shifted slightly, scanning her surroundings.

She glanced around the room, disoriented, before spotting the familiar art on the wall—the same art she had seen the few times she’d been here and Azzi had shown her during their first few Facetime calls. She exhaled in relief, but the sense of discomfort didn’t fade. Her mind raced with confusion about the night’s events. Her body felt heavy, sore, and her brain buzzed with the aftermath of the alcohol.

She noticed a glass of water and a bottle of painkillers on the dresser and quickly took the water, hoping to ease the pounding in her skull. She shuffled toward the kitchen, the faint sound of sizzling drawing her in. As she stepped into the doorway, she saw Azzi standing at the stove, her back turned as she carefully flipped something in a pan. The familiar sight should have put Paige at ease, but something was off. Azzi’s movements, usually fluid and unhurried, were now methodical, almost stiff.

Paige’s lips parted to speak, but she hesitated, unsure how to bridge the gap between them. Instead, she moved forward, wrapping her arms loosely around Azzi’s waist and resting her chin on her shoulder. “Good morning,” she murmured, her voice was a little raspy.

Azzi froze for a moment before squeezing Paige’s hand briefly in acknowledgment. For a second, Paige thought things might be okay—until Azzi said softly, “Let go of me, please.” Paige immediately stepped back, her arms falling to her sides as she leaned against the counter.

Paige’s throat tightened, guilt swelling in her chest. “I’m sorry about last night,” she started, her voice trembling slightly. Her eyes flickered to Azzi, who stood at the stove, her back still turned. The silence that followed felt heavier than the pounding in her head.

Azzi turned off the burner and set the spatula down carefully before facing Paige. Her face was composed, but her eyes carried a weight that made Paige’s stomach churn. Azzi crossed her arms, leaning back against the counter as she studied Paige with a look that made it hard to breathe.

“Do you even know what you’re sorry for?” Azzi’s voice wasn’t harsh, but the question hit like a hammer.

Paige opened her mouth, but the words caught in her throat. She swallowed hard before replying, “I wasn’t in a good place. I didn’t mean to be such a mess.”

Azzi’s expression didn’t soften. Her gaze stayed locked on Paige, who fidgeted under the scrutiny. “You weren’t just a mess, Paige,” Azzi said, her voice steady but laced with an undertone of frustration. “You scared me.”

Paige’s heart dropped at the words. She looked down, her fingers gripping the edge of the counter as if it could anchor her. “I’m sorry, Az,” she murmured, her voice cracking. “I didn’t mean to. I just… I don’t know how to deal with it sometimes, and I didn’t want to drag you into it.”

Azzi tilted her head slightly, her expression unreadable. “You didn’t want to drag me into it?” she repeated, her tone hinting at some disbelief.

“Yeah,” Paige muttered, barely audible, the weight of her own words pressing down on her.

Azzi took a deep breath, turning back to the stove. She grabbed the plates, carefully dividing the eggs and bacon between them. Her movements were measured, but Paige could see the tension in her shoulders.

As Azzi set the plates down on the kitchen island, she spoke again, her voice softer but no less serious. “What do you mean by that?”

Paige hesitated, feeling the knot in her chest tighten. She slowly walked over to the island, pulling out a stool but not sitting down yet. “I mean… we’re not even together, Az,” she said, her voice strained. “I didn’t want to be a burden. I usually just handle it on my own.”

Azzi’s jaw tightened slightly, and she sat down, sliding one of the plates toward Paige, silently telling her to sit down. She didn’t touch her own food, her focus entirely on Paige. The silence that stretched between them was a little deafening.

Finally, Paige sat down beside her, but her hands stayed folded in her lap, her appetite nonexistent. She glanced at Azzi, whose posture was relaxed but whose eyes betrayed a storm of emotions.

Azzi leaned forward slightly, her elbows resting on the counter. “Paige,” she said gently, “you think being a burden is the same as needing help? Because it’s not.”

Paige looked down at her lap, her voice barely a whisper. “It feels like it is.”

Azzi shook her head, her tone softening even more. “You really have to stop doing this to yourself. You don’t have to carry all of it alone. Not with me. We’ve talked about this.”

Paige’s eyes stung, but she blinked rapidly, refusing to let the tears fall. “I just… I don’t want to mess things up. You mean too much to me. I don’t want you seeing that part of my life… to scare you away,” she admitted, her voice barely above a whisper.

Azzi leaned back in her chair, crossing her arms as she studied Paige carefully. Her silence felt heavy, almost unbearable, as if she was weighing every word Paige had just said.

After a moment, Azzi spoke, her voice calm but tinged with something Paige couldn’t quite place. “You think that part of your life would scare me away?”

Paige nodded, biting her bottom lip. “I’ve dealt with it alone for so long because… it’s messy. I’m messy. And I didn’t want to put that on you.”

Azzi’s eyes softened as she sat back in her chair, her arms crossed over her chest. She exhaled deeply, the weight of her thoughts apparent in the tension of her shoulders. After a beat, she leaned forward, her expression a mixture of frustration and care.

“Paige,” she began, her tone steady but laced with emotion, “I keep telling you over and over—you don’t need to deal with it alone anymore. I feel like I tell you that every single day.”

Paige glanced up, the vulnerability in Azzi’s voice cutting straight through her defenses.

Azzi shook her head lightly, her hands uncrossing to rest on the counter as she continued. “You’re not some burden I have to carry. Your life isn’t too messy for me. Stop thinking you have to keep everything locked inside because you don’t.”

Paige’s chest tightened, her hands trembling slightly as she clutched her fork. She struggled to find the words, her voice barely audible as she whispered, “But what if it’s too much?”

Azzi met her gaze, unwavering. “Then we’ll have to deal with it together. I’m not saying it’ll be easy, Paige. But if you keep shutting me out every time you feel like things are falling apart, how can I help? How can I be there for you if you won’t let me?”

Paige’s lips parted, but no sound came out. She felt exposed, like Azzi could see every crack and flaw she had tried so hard to hide. And yet, there was no judgment in Azzi’s gaze—just unwavering patience and care.

“I don’t know how to do this,” Paige admitted, her voice trembling.

Azzi smiled gently, the corners of her mouth barely lifting, but the warmth in her expression was undeniable. “I don’t either… but we’ll figure it out,” she said softly. “But it starts with you letting me in even when it’s ugly.”

Paige nodded slowly, her eyes glistening as she whispered, “I know, I’m sorry baby.”

Azzi didn’t reply, her hand reaching out to rest on Paige’s.

The moment hung between them, heavy with meaning, until the sound of Azzi’s roommate entering the kitchen disrupted the fragile silence.

Azzi glanced at Paige, her voice gentler now. “We’ll talk more later. Just… eat something, okay? I really don’t want you throwing up on my counter.”

Paige offered a faint smile, her heart still racing, and picked up her fork again. The food still felt heavy, but Azzi’s words lingered, a thread of hope tying her together.

…

February 2024

Azzi had a big game tonight. It was the first time Paige had attended one of her games making promises that she would find time to come to one despite her own schedule. Paige wasn’t just showing up because it was important to Azzi—she was showing up because it meant the world to her that Azzi knew she had someone there, cheering her on, no matter what. It didn’t matter that Paige was recognized by fans or that people were whispering about her presence as soon as she walked in. All that mattered to her was Azzi.

The game was packed with energy, but Paige couldn’t focus on anything except Azzi. She watched intently, her eyes never leaving her. Azzi’s every move was so graceful and confident, and as Paige watched her in her element her chest swelled with pride.

Azzi, in turn, couldn’t help but glance over at Paige every so often, her heart skipping each time their eyes met. It didn’t matter that the crowd was roaring, or that her teammates were all over her after she hit a big shot. In those moments, it was just her looking at Paige.

After the game, as Azzi made her way off the court, she spotted Paige waiting for her in the stands. She walked straight to her, her smile widening as she approached her.

“You actually came,” Azzi said, breathless, a playful laugh in her voice.

Paige’s smile was immediate and wide. “Of course I did. I told you I would. You were amazing out there.”

Azzi’s grin softened, a hint of vulnerability in her eyes. “It means a lot that you’re here. I know things are crazy for you with your schedule going into march, so this… it says a lot.”

Paige stepped closer, her heart racing as she reached out, pulling Azzi into a hug. The hug was deep and comforting, lingering just a little longer than usual. The crowd around them started to murmur—surprised to see the two together, given Paige’s status and the two of them never being seen together before this moment. They were close, but this moment was something else. Paige held Azzi tighter, wanting her to know just how much she meant to her. Azzi reciprocated, her grip on Paige firm as she took in the moment.

As they pulled apart, a few fans who had been watching took note of their closeness. Whispers began to circulate, but neither of them paid any attention. They were in their own world.

Paige smiled softly at Azzi, her voice quieter than usual. “I’m proud of you.”

Azzi looked at her, her eyes full of gratitude. “Thank you.”

The two of them stood there, a quiet bubble in the middle of the chaos, just taking in the moment. Azzi’s smile was soft, a mix of exhaustion and happiness, but there was something deeper in her eyes. Paige had kept her promise. She was here. For her.

Paige pulled Azzi in for another hug and they held each other for a moment longer than most people would have expected, and it felt so right that neither of them wanted to pull away. Azzi couldn’t stop the warmth that spread through her chest. It wasn’t just the win, it was having Paige there—fully present, giving her all her attention, all her support, in a world that constantly asked for her attention in a hundred different directions.

Before they could say anything more, a few fans, recognizing Paige, began to approach. Their voices cut through the quiet, making Azzi’s smile falter just a little. But she didn't mind. That was the reality of Paige’s world. But it was still strange, seeing her become the center of attention even in this moment when it felt like it was just for them.

One fan, a young woman, stepped up, a hopeful grin on her face. "Hey, Paige! Can we get a quick picture? Big fan of yours!"

Another fan, a man holding a jersey that wasn’t Paige’s, chimed in, "An autograph too, please?"

Paige, still holding Azzi’s gaze, didn’t break her focus. She gave the fans a polite smile, but her voice was a little firmer than usual.

"Not tonight, guys. Sorry," she said, her tone calm but respectful. "I'm just here for someone else tonight." A few of the fans murmured in disappointment but ultimately understood as they gave the girls space.

“It’s okay, really,” Azzi said gently. She stepped forward, a reflexive smile on her face. “You can take a picture, I’ll wait for you—”

Before she could finish, Paige’s hand tightened around hers, as she looked at the girl, meeting Azzi’s eyes.

“No,” Paige said simply, a slight edge of protectiveness in her tone. “I’m only here for you, Az. Tonight, it’s just you and me.”

Azzi froze for a moment, her breath catching at Paige’s words. There was no hesitation in her voice—no compromise. Paige’s eyes were steady, unwavering, and Azzi realized then that this wasn’t just about a promise she’d made; it was about the space Paige was creating just for Azzi in her life, in front of everyone, despite the noise and the demands of the crowd.

Azzi blinked, her chest tightening with gratitude, and for a moment, she didn’t know what to say. "That was… sweet," Azzi said, her voice barely above a whisper as she leaned a little closer to Paige. "I didn’t expect that."

Paige shrugged, the corner of her mouth turning up into a half-smile. "I told you I don’t let anything or anyone take me away from the important things. And you," she said, her voice dropping just a little, her eyes soft and focused on Azzi, "are important."

Azzi’s smile softened, a small laugh escaping her lips, her eyes filled with a quiet affection. “You’re incredible,” she said, her voice barely above a whisper.

Paige’s grin grew, her fingers gently squeezing Azzi’s hand. “I’m not the one who just dropped 32, remember?” she teased.

Azzi laughed, the sound light and carefree, before she pulled Paige a little closer, the gym now basically empty, their hands still linked. “You know..you’re lucky because I think I’m falling for you Paige Bueckers,” Azzi said softly, the words slipping out before she could stop them.

There it was—the truth, as simple and real as anything they’d said. And though the moment could have felt heavy, it didn’t. It felt freeing, like something they’d both been dancing around for too long had finally come to the surface.

“Well I fell for you a long time ago Azzi Fudd” Paige whispered back, her voice steady but full of meaning.

They stood there for a beat, their faces close, breaths mingling, the tension and connection thick enough to taste. It was a moment that felt timeless—like nothing else mattered, except for the two of them.

But just as they were about to close the distance between them, a voice broke through the quiet.

"Azzi!" It was one of her teammates, jogging over to them with a small smile. "Coach is looking for you."

Azzi’s smile faltered just a little, the reality of her responsibilities coming back into focus. She sighed softly, looking at Paige with a mix of regret and affection.

Paige smiled, though her heart gave a small twinge at the interruption. “Don’t worry I’ll be here,” she said, giving Azzi’s hand one last squeeze before letting go. “I’ll wait for you by my car.”

Azzi nodded, her eyes softening, and she leaned in for a brief kiss on Paige’s cheek. “I won’t be long. I promise.”

Paige smiled back, watching as Azzi turned and jogged off toward the locker room.

March 2024

The energy in the arena was electric, the air vibrating with the sound of fans chanting Paige’s name. Her jersey dotted the crowd, worn by people of all ages, from little kids with wide eyes to older fans who clapped enthusiastically after every play. Azzi had known Paige was a big deal—she’d seen it all over social media, heard the commentators wax poetic about her talent, saw people approaching her first hand out in public—but sitting here, surrounded by the deafening adoration of thousands, was something else entirely.

It didn’t seem to affect Paige at all. On the court, she was a force of nature, her every move calculated, her focus seemingly unshakable. Azzi couldn’t look away, captivated by the way Paige commanded the game. There was a fluidity to her movements, a confidence that made it impossible not to admire her. Watching her in person was different from watching her on TV—there was an energy to it, an intensity that didn’t translate through a screen.

Azzi sat there quietly, trying not to draw attention to herself in the sea of fans, though she doubted anyone would recognize her with all eyes on Paige. They hadn’t had a chance to talk before the game, and Azzi wasn’t even sure Paige knew she was there. Part of her hoped Paige would notice her, but she knew how focused the blonde got when she stepped onto the court.

But then it happened.

It was quick—so quick that the cameras definitely didn’t catch it, and most of the crowd didn’t seem to notice. Paige sank a deep three and as she jogged back on defense, her eyes flicked briefly to the section where Azzi was sitting. She pointed in Azzi’s direction, a subtle gesture that could have been overlooked if you weren’t paying attention.

A small smile spread across Azzi’s face, her heart fluttering at the acknowledgment. She wasn’t just another face in the crowd to Paige. That quick moment, fleeting as it was, felt personal—like it was just for her.

Azzi leaned back in her seat, her smile lingering as she watched Paige fall seamlessly back into her rhythm, her focus unbroken. The way Paige could still find a way to connect with her in the middle of all this chaos, only made Azzi admire her more.

…

After the game the crowd hadn’t fully thinned out by the time Paige made her way toward Azzi, stopping every few steps to sign jerseys, posters, and anything fans shoved in her direction. Her usual easy smile and charm were on full display, but Azzi could see the subtle exhaustion in her movements. Still, when Paige finally reached her, her face lit up in a way that made Azzi’s chest tighten.

Without a word, Paige pulled Azzi into a tight hug, dropping her head onto Azzi’s shoulder and exhaling deeply. Azzi’s smile softened as she wrapped her arms around Paige, resting her cheek against the blonde’s temple. The moment felt intimate, even with the buzz of fans and cameras surrounding them.

When they finally pulled away, Paige’s lips twitched into a smirk as she licked them, her eyes glinting with mischief. “So… you want me to sign your jersey?” she teased.

Azzi rolled her eyes, but the small grin tugging at her lips gave her away. “I’m not a fan,” she shot back, raising an eyebrow.

Paige gasped dramatically, placing a hand over her chest. “Wowww, my own girl isn’t my fan?”

Azzi shook her head, her smile widening. “I’m probably your number one fan, actually.”

Paige’s smirk deepened, and she grabbed the sharpie from someone behind her. “That’s more like it,” she quipped. Without hesitation, she bent down slightly to scribble her signature across of Azzi’s jersey.

Azzi glanced down, noticing the hearts Paige had added at the end of her usual autograph. “Hearts huh?” she teased, raising an eyebrow.

“Special treatment,” Paige murmured, her voice low enough that only Azzi could hear.

As the two stood there, fans crowded nearby, calling Paige’s name and clamoring for her attention. Paige glanced over briefly, flashing her signature smile and promising to get to them in a moment, but her focus quickly returned to Azzi.

For that instant, it felt like they were in their own little bubble. Paige stepped back slightly, her gaze lingering on Azzi. “Thanks for coming,” she said softly, the sincerity in her voice cutting through the noise around them.

“You played amazing,” Azzi replied, her voice equally soft, though there was a distinct note of admiration in her tone.

Paige’s smile widened, her shoulders relaxing as she pulled Azzi into another hug. This one lingered longer, Paige’s hands resting securely against Azzi’s back. She leaned in just enough to murmur, “I wish I could kiss you right now.”

Azzi let out a quiet laugh, pulling back slightly to meet Paige’s gaze. “Later,” she promised.

Paige smirked at the reply. With a quick glance at the barrier separating them, Paige reached down and helped Azzi step over the rope, ensuring she was on the same side as her.

Once Azzi was safely on the other side, Paige flagged down a staff member. “Can you take her to the back for me? I’ll meet her there in a few minutes,” she said, her tone polite yet firm, making it clear she wouldn’t take no for an answer.

Azzi hesitated for a moment, her eyes scanning Paige’s face, but Paige gave her a reassuring smile. “I’ll be back there soon I promise,” she said, squeezing Azzi’s hand briefly before turning her attention back to the eager fans still calling her name.

Azzi nodded, casting one last glance at Paige before following the staff member toward the back. Paige stood for a moment, watching her disappear into the crowd, before turning back to the fans with her usual bright smile, ready to finish taking pictures and signing autographs.

…

When Paige and Azzi stepped into the dorm, the silence greeted them like an unspoken invitation. No one else was around yet—a rare luxury that Paige didn’t intend to waste. She dropped her bag carelessly by the door, her arm draped casually over Azzi’s shoulder as they walked inside.

As soon as the door to the suite clicked shut, Paige turned to Azzi, wasting no time. Her hands found Azzi’s face as she leaned in, pulling her into a deep kiss. “I missed you so much,” Paige murmured against Azzi’s lips, her voice tinged with a mix of longing and relief.

Azzi pulled back just enough to laugh, her hands resting lightly on Paige’s waist. “You just saw me last week,” she teased, her grin warm and playful.

Paige shrugged, her fingers gently trailing down Azzi’s arm. “Doesn’t matter,” she said with a smirk.

Azzi shook her head, her smile softening as she looked at Paige. “It’s empty in here,” she noted, her tone dropping slightly, her implication clear.

Paige’s smirk widened as she caught the hint, and before she could respond, Azzi reached for the jersey she had on. In one smooth motion, she tugged it off, revealing her bra beneath it, and turned on her heel, heading toward Paige’s room without a word.

Paige stood frozen for a moment, her lips parting in surprise before breaking into a grin. “Fucking finally,” she muttered under her breath, her heart racing as she followed Azzi down the short hallway.

When they reached her door, Paige paused briefly, grabbing a couple of hair ties from her desk and slipping them onto the outside of the door handle. She shut the door behind her with a soft click, her gaze fixed on Azzi, who was already sitting on the edge of the bed, waiting for her with a smile on her face.

Paige stepped closer to Azzi, her hands instinctively finding their way to Azzi’s face as she settled herself between her legs. Her movements were slow as if savoring every second. She leaned down, her forehead briefly brushing against Azzi’s before capturing her lips in a soft, lingering kiss.

Pulling back just enough to whisper, Paige’s voice was filled with a raw tenderness. “I love you so much,” she said, her blue eyes searching Azzi’s as though trying to convey everything words couldn’t.

Azzi’s lips curved into a warm smile, her hands gliding up Paige’s sides. “I love you more, superstar,” she teased softly, though her tone carried a depth of sincerity that made Paige’s heart swell.

Before Paige could respond, Azzi tugged her down, their laughter mixing as Paige allowed herself to fall gently on top of her. She buried her face in the crook of Azzi’s neck, inhaling the familiar scent that had become a source of comfort and peace.

For the first time in what felt like forever, Paige allowed herself to fully let go. No pressure, no cameras, no expectations—just the steady rhythm of Azzi’s heartbeat beneath her and the quiet certainty that she had found something she never wanted to let go of.

Settling deeper into Azzi’s embrace kissing her deeply, Paige realized she was finally with the woman who had changed her life in less than a year.

[gilbertscurls]

Stuck With You ➵ Matt Sturniolo

Matt sat cross-legged on the couch, flipping through channels as he waited for you to come back from the kitchen. You had insisted on making popcorn for your movie night, though he knew you’d likely burn it or set the microwave to the wrong time, like always.

“Hey, Matt, do we put the popcorn on one minute or two?” your voice called from the other room.

He smirked to himself. Called it.

“Two minutes, but stop it early if it starts slowing down,” he yelled back, leaning into the couch with a grin.

“Right. Got it,” you replied, your tone filled with your usual confidence despite the fact you always asked the same question every time. He shook his head, already anticipating your probable victory over yet another microwaved snack.

Moments later, you appeared in the doorway, triumphantly holding a large bowl of popcorn. “Success! No burnt kernels this time,” you announced, plopping down next to him, your head resting against his shoulder.

“I’m impressed,” he teased, draping an arm around you. “You’re really stepping up in the world.”

You laughed, shoving a handful of popcorn into his face. “Shut up. I’m practically a chef.”

“Uh-huh, sure,” he chuckled, stealing a piece of popcorn from the bowl. “Master of all things microwaveable.”

You settled into their usual spots, your feet tucked under his legs while you scrolled through the endless sea of romantic comedies on the streaming service. He already knew which one you’d pick; you had a habit of rewatching the same movies over and over, and tonight would be no different.

“Ooh, let’s watch The Proposal again,” you said, your eyes lighting up as you hovered over the familiar title.

Matt groaned playfully. “Again? Haven’t you seen that movie like… fifty times?”

“Only like ten,” you corrected with a smile. “But come on, you know you secretly love it.”

He sighed dramatically but clicked on the movie anyway. “Fine, but I reserve the right to make fun of every cheesy line.”

“Deal,” you grinned, cuddling closer as the movie began.

The opening credits rolled, and soon enough, you were lost in the predictable but comforting story of romance, witty banter, and happy endings. Every so often, you would mutter along with your favorite lines, your voice a soft echo of the characters on screen.

Matt wasn’t really paying attention to the movie, though. Instead, his mind kept wandering to how normal this all felt—how natural it was to have you here, your head against his shoulder, your legs tangled with his, as if you’d always belonged there.

“You know,” you said during a lull in the movie, your voice casual but thoughtful. “I’ve been thinking…”

“Uh-oh,” he teased, nudging you lightly. “That’s dangerous.”

“Shut up,” you laughed, poking him in the side. “I’m serious. I’ve been thinking about us.”

His heart skipped a beat, though he kept his expression relaxed. “Yeah? What about us?”

You sat up slightly, turning to face him. “About how we’re always together. Like… we spend more time together than most couples I know. And we’re not even sick of each other.”

Matt raised an eyebrow, trying to keep the mood light despite the way his chest tightened at your words. “Speak for yourself. I’m definitely sick of you.”

“Liar,” you grinned, lightly smacking his arm. “But seriously, it’s kinda funny, isn’t it? How we’ve just… become this. Like we’re stuck together.”

Matt’s eyes softened as he looked at you, the playful banter fading for a moment. “Yeah,” he said quietly. “We kind of are.”

You smiled, leaning your head back against his chest. “Well, I guess there are worse people to be stuck with.”

He chuckled at your words, his chest tightening at the thought of being stuck with you. Stuck with your sass, your clinginess, your endless chatter.

Stuck with your love for cheesy romantic comedies, your inability to cook anything that didn't come from a packet, your habit of stealing all his hoodies.

He was stuck with you, and he wouldn't have it any other way.

tag list: @stuwniolo, @sturnobsessedwh0re, @matts-myloverboy, @imjusthereforthesturniolosmut, @lizzymacdonald06, @asherrisrandom, @sturniolowhore69, @faith5drpepper, @emely9274, @psychologyloverfr, @lovetaylorrussellgrr, @conspiracy-ash, @helpimateenagerinlove