#but there is practically NO WAY to talk to her about anything in a way that matters

[leahwllmsn]

tell me I'm the number one girl in your eyes

alexia putellas x reader

word count: 2.5k

You thought that Alexia was the only person in the world who could never hurt you.

You thought about a lot of things. About how Alexia was going to be the one to propose. How your wedding was going to be an intimate one in your and Alexia’s hometown, by the vineyard. How you would have a maximum of two children, no doubt one of which was going to follow in Alexia’s footsteps.

Your life with Alexia was set. It was predictable, really. From the moment you met her back in Mollet del Vallès when you were children, to your first kiss in her backyard, to the day you moved to the city together.

Childhood best friends who fell in love along the way—it couldn’t get anymore perfect than that. Your families were neighbours, it was practically one big family. Everyone was looking forward to your wedding, and by everyone that included you too.

You had been dating for fifteen years (well, you were on and off at some point, but that didn’t count), so it wasn’t far-fetched that you were expecting a proposal soon. You and Alexia talked about getting married, it wasn’t a new subject for the two of you.

The only problem was that the proposal wasn’t coming and for the first time ever, you had a feeling that it wasn’t going to come. Ever.

You couldn’t pinpoint when Alexia changed, when Alexia stopped buying you flowers just because and when the conversations between you felt forced. Maybe it was after Alexia went back defeated from the Olympics. Or maybe it was after Barcelona won the Champions League and Alexia was everywhere but your home.

The distance between you grew and grew until you were left to beg for Alexia’s attention as if you were another fan and not her girlfriend, the person Alexia claimed she loved more than anything.

“I have meetings with investors tonight, for Eleven.” Alexia’s voice broke the silence in your apartment. “Might go on until late.”

“Okay,” was all you could say.

Another excuse, you figured. Another reason to avoid coming home to you. It had been going on for some time. You couldn’t remember the last time you went to bed at the same time anymore. 

Alexia’s figure appeared in the kitchen, she went straight to the fridge and took out her box of orange juice. Gone were the arms around your waist, the gentle kisses to your neck as you read the morning news. Her laughter would ring around the space as she claimed “only old people read newspapers these days, amor!”

“Are we still on for tomorrow though?” You hated that your voice was hopeful. Too hopeful.

Alexia finally looked at you, her brows furrowed. You weren’t surprised anymore that she’d forgotten. It was laughable at this point because it seemed that you were the only one still present in this relationship.

“Tomorrow?”

“Yeah. Dinner.” You tried to act nonchalant about it, as if it didn’t hurt that your own girlfriend forgot about your birthday.

Alexia stared at you for a few seconds, then nodded. “Of course. You know I finish training at four. Dinner is at seven, right?”

“Six.” And I thought you have a day off tomorrow, you wanted to argue. But you kept your mouth shut and let it go. 

Alexia finished her orange juice and grabbed her bag, stepping close to you to press a quick kiss to your cheek. “Don’t wait up.”

And just like that she was gone.

“I love you too.” You whispered to the empty apartment. It felt humiliating at times, to be the only one left in a relationship.

You wondered if Alexia still loved you. You couldn’t remember the last time she said those three words to you. You had a feeling that she stopped, that must be why she never said it anymore.

You wanted to confront her about it, to ask her why you weren’t worth her time anymore, but you didn’t think you were ready to face the fallout. You would be devastated when Alexia decided it was time to leave you. It wasn’t an if, but a when, because you knew it was inevitable. It could be tomorrow, or in a few weeks or even months.

Selfishly, you wanted to keep Alexia to yourself a little bit longer. Even though Alexia didn’t feel like yours anymore. 

You could pretend that you didn’t die every time Alexia’s smile didn’t reach her eyes. You could pretend that it was fine that Alexia never held your hand as you walked through the streets of Barcelona anymore.

You could pretend that Alexia still loved you, and that you were still the greatest thing the universe had ever given her—her words, a few years ago.

Tomorrow, you knew Alexia would go through her day as if it was just another regular day. If you were lucky, she’d remember that it was your birthday. If you were extra lucky, she’d even give you flowers.

Above everything though, you just hoped that she would show up to dinner.

You didn’t think you had any fight left in you if she didn’t.

—

The sun was shining against your face the moment you opened your eyes. Out of habit, your hands reached out to the other side. You couldn’t help the disappointed sigh that left your lips when you were met with empty sheets. You relished in the mornings when Alexia wasn’t awake and you could hold her, even though you had to pretend to be asleep as she gently lifted your hand and slipped out of bed when she woke. You missed when she would turn around and peppered your face with kisses to wake you up. She loved being the first thing you see in the morning.

Usually on your birthday, Alexia would treat you to breakfast in bed. It was tradition, one that she started ever since the two of you moved to Barcelona about a decade ago.

For a brief second, you had a dangerous glimmer of hope that Alexia was just in the kitchen. But with how quiet your apartment felt, you knew she left.

Alexia forgot. Or maybe she remembered, but she didn’t care anymore. You didn’t know which one was worse.

With a sigh and an ache so deep in your chest, you got ready for the day. You went through your usual routine: shower, breakfast, tidying any mess around your apartment that was out of place. 

It wasn’t until an hour later that the doorbell rang. A part of you hoped that it was Alexia, but the thought disappeared as fast. Your girlfriend wouldn’t need to knock on her own door.

It was a delivery man. Surprisingly, with flowers in his arms. Your heart leaped to the faint hope that they were from Alexia.

“Y/N?”

“That’s me.”

“Must be a special day,” he gave a kind smile, handing the flowers over to you. “Delivery for you from… Alba.”

The tinge of disappointment couldn’t help but creep into your chest. Still, you gave him the best smile you could muster and thanked him.

Alba remembered your birthday. Scrolling through your phone, you saw more people who remembered it was your birthday, even people you weren’t that close with.

It was radio silence from the person who mattered the most to you though.

Sitting alone on your sofa, you realized that you had nothing to do. You cleared your schedule out, and Alexia would usually take the lead. It was tradition to spend your birthdays just the two of you.

You dragged yourself to Mercadona, wanting to buy yourself a small cake and some candles. Before blowing the candles out, you wished for the impossible; birthday wishes were supposed to be powerful, weren’t they?

I wish things go back to the way they were before

Most importantly… I wish my girlfriend still wants me

—

You arrived at your favorite restaurant at exactly six o’clock. You ordered a bottle of wine and finished two glasses when thirty minutes had passed and your girlfriend was still nowhere to be seen.

The need to cry was overwhelming, you felt the tears pooling in your eyes already, waiting for the right time to fall. But you swallowed the ache and forced yourself to think of something happy, because crying whilst being alone at a table clearly meant for two was pathetic.

Your texts and calls went unanswered. An hour in and your last resort was to call Mapi and ask her if she’d seen or heard from Alexia.

“¡Hola, cumpleañera!”

“Maps, hey,” you tried to keep your voice steady, but they were futile. You were truly going to sound pathetic with your question. “Have you… Is Ale with you?”

“Qué? Alexia? Is she not with you?” Mapi sounded concerned. She sounded like she was ready to fight her best friend for you. The fact brought a slight smile to your face.

“No,” you took a deep breath. You couldn’t believe this was how your relationship had come to be. “She’s supposed to be here an hour ago.”

“Oh, I’m so sorry, chica. She left a few hours ago, I don’t know where she went.”

“That’s okay.” You stared at your empty glass and contemplated on whether you should pour yourself another. You’d finish the whole bottle by yourself at this rate.

“Do you… do you want me and Ingrid to come over?”

The offer was sweet, your heart swell at the reinforcement that there were still people who cared about you. But you didn’t think you could go through conversations without breaking down.

So you politely declined Mapi’s offer and poured yourself another glass of wine. You were finishing this bottle, you decided.

It was a strange feeling. To feel abandoned. Alexia had never made you feel that way before.

Alexia was your safe space. She made you feel loved and made you feel that you mattered.

That Alexia felt like a lifetime ago, like she belonged to another, better version of you—one worthy of her time and effort.

—

The apartment was dark when you got home, but you knew Alexia was here. Her car keys were on the hook, and the shoes she wore earlier were haphazardly placed by the front door.

“Ale?” You let out a wince as you took off your heels, you could feel a blister coming.

As you entered your living room, you found your girlfriend still in her Barcelona sweatshirt passed out on the couch. She looked so at peace that you couldn’t help but pressed a kiss to her forehead.

As much as you hated how she’d been treating you, a part of you still had so much love for her. You knew you deserved better than this version of Alexia, but you didn’t think you had it in you to let her go.

Alexia stirred, not even a guilty look when she opened her eyes and saw you standing there. “Hey, what time is it?”

“Late,” you muttered, walking back to your bedroom. You heard faint footsteps behind you, telling you Alexia was following you. You knew she was watching you, you in your fitted black dress that stopped just above your thigh. It was Alexia’s favourite dress on you, hence why you decided to wear it tonight.

“I… fell asleep,” Alexia’s voice broke the silence. She must’ve realized her mistake then. A part of you broke when she said nothing else, not even an apology.

“That’s fine,” you shrugged. You stripped off your dress and changed into a t-shirt. When you realized it was an old, faded one which belonged to Alexia, you angrily took it off and tossed it aside. This was supposed to be your side of the closet, but over the years, your clothes and Alexia’s have blended together.

“Amor…”

You couldn’t remember the last time Alexia called you that. It used to bring you warmth, but now it only made you feel mocked.

“What, Alexia?” You turned around and the sight of her finally in front of you, of her finally looking at you, made you snap. “It’s not like I waited hours for you, looking like a complete idiota as the waiter kept on checking if I was okay.”

“I didn’t—”

You put a hand up, signaling your girlfriend to stop talking. “Save it, Alexia. You know, I wasn’t even surprised that you didn’t show up. But I thought that your girlfriend’s birthday must count as a special occasion, right? I guess I really do mean nothing to you.”

“Your birthday?” Alexia’s eyes went impossibly wide. 

You laughed, that evil laughter you hear from villains in movies. There wasn’t anything funny. You just felt so pathetic to the point that there wasn’t anything else you could do but laugh at the situation.

Alexia looked like she was close to tears, but you forced yourself to not feel bad for her. She made you feel so much worse these past few weeks.

“I don’t know what I did wrong, Alexia,” you sighed. You knew you were going to lose her after this. There wasn’t going back. “I’ve done nothing but love you unconditionally, but even that seems like it’s not enough for you anymore. It used to be though, so tell me, Alexia, what changed? What did I do to make you stop loving me? We used to be so good.”

The tears were flowing freely down your face. You looked terrible. Your heart was in pieces. It wasn’t a birthday you wanted to remember.

“Ale… If you don’t want me around anymore, the least you could do is tell me. Tell me so I don’t have to wait for you to notice me again. Tell me so I can pack up my bags and leave you alone.”

“It’s not like that,” Alexia finally spoke up, her voice barely a whisper.

“Then what? I feel like I don’t matter to you anymore. You’ve done a great job of showing me that. Forgetting that it’s my birthday is the cherry on top.”

Alexia was crying too, but you didn’t know why she was crying. Guilt, maybe? But this had been going on for some time, why feel guilty now?

“I don’t think I can do this anymore,” you decided, having to force the words out of your mouth. “I know you don’t want to be the one to end things, so I’ll do you a favour.”

This wasn’t what you wanted. You wanted Alexia to fight for you, to prove you wrong. You wanted Alexia to tell you that she was sorry and that she didn’t realize she had been neglecting you. You wanted Alexia to pull you into her arms and not let go. You wanted her to convince you that you were still the love of her life and that she still loved you more than anything.

But Alexia said nothing else and that was all you needed to know.

[gyaruhana]

Can you do a smut fic where readers dating thanos and she nearly dies in red light green light, and they realise how dangerous the games are and fuck like it’s their last night together? Im talking pure need and lust, desperation after realising the stakes of the squid games

Thanos / Choi Su-bong - I love you

Synopsis: After witnessing so much death and realizing you may both be next, you decide to fuck in the bathroom.

A/N: combined this with two other requests asking for bathroom sex.. i hope that was okay !! also not entirely proof read..

Warnings: smut content, fingering, praise, he's more gentle tbh

You had never feared death before. It always seemed so far away and it was the least of your concerns considering the debt you and your boyfriend, Thanos, share after betting it all on some coin a youtuber recommended. Never once in your life had you thought you would actually die. You always imagined that you'd die at an old age in a fancy house- maybe even with a kid or two. Point is, you didn't think about death because you really didn't see any need to.

Until today that is. 

You and your boyfriend had come across a great opportunity to earn lots of won by playing a few games. Considering you had already earned quite a bit from a game of ddakji, it was a no-brainer to agree to a few games. At the time, it didn't seem suspicious because the salesman who offered the card to you had given you plenty of won without a catch. 

Although you were knocked out with a gas when you entered the designated car together and practically kidnapped, neither of you thought anything about it- too excited at the idea of making money to pay off your debt with a few games. Any money goes a long way to finally paying off your debt so you can focus on getting your dream life.

Idiotically enough, you also didn't find any suspicion in the guy yelling something about how you'll be shot if you move. It actually made you and Thanos laugh at the ridiculousness of it as you both assumed he was just some drunk making up shit to scare people. How wrong the both of you were.

By the time everyone had made it to the halfway mark with plenty of time to spare, Thanos saw a bee land on some girl and made a comment about it. The girl immediately let out a scream and moved to try to get the bee off of her. It was amusing to watch until the sound of a gunshot rang through the air and her body fell to the floor. 

The smile on both your faces dropped immediately as blood pooled around her now-dead body. You and Thanos stood deadly still as people started to scream and run away out of fear. Every gunshot made your heart drop further because that could be you or him. The idea one of you might die right now was sickening for the both of you. 

The moment the sound of shooting stopped, the doll turned out and called green light again. Thanos quickly reached for his necklace while walking forward, desperately needing to be high right now so he could try to pretend like this wasn't really happening. Meanwhile, you didn't move a muscle - too afraid you might die here. You didn't want to be shot too.

The doll turned its head and called out red light making everyone freeze again. Another gunshot rang out making you flinch but thankfully the doll didn't notice the small movement. When it turned around again, Thanos put the pill in his mouth before closing his necklace and looking behind him. You still weren't moving, making him worry. You didn't have time to just stand there, you had to get going and make it to the end.

“What are you doing? You have to move,” Thanos spoke out as he gestured for you to come over to him. He kept still when the doll announced red light again but he kept his eyes on yours. He couldn't have you just stand there until your inevitable death. The moment the players could move again, Thanos ran toward you and grabbed your wrist before pulling you along with him. 

With Thanos dragging you along, you both managed to make it to the end before the time ran out. The relief the two of you shared was only there momentarily. You may have survived this game but what's to say you'll survive the next game? There was no guarantee. In fact, you weren't even confident in yourself that you'd survive the next game. After all, you only got through this because Thanos had dragged you to the end. 

As if sensing your fear, Thanos looked at you and cupped your face with his hands. “Don't look so stressed, baby. We're fine,” he spoke as he gently caressed your cheek. You gave a small smile at his words but the fear didn't disappear. He let out a sigh before tapping your cheek twice and removing his hands. He knew there wasn't much he could say to make this any better. It was a lot to handle, that was for sure. The only reason he was calm was because he had popped a pill the moment the first person died. 

As the players were slowly led back to the main room which they had awoken in, Thanos took your hand to keep you close to him. Despite the drugs he had taken, he was still pretty stressed about the whole ordeal. Mostly because of you. He couldn't fathom the idea of you getting shot like those other idiots in the last game. He'd definitely go crazy if you got hurt so he needed to keep you close to him. 

Even after you were already in the room, his hand still kept a firm grip on yours as if you might disappear should he let go. You didn't mind though. If anything, his hand squeezing yours was a huge comfort. A silent reminder that he wouldn't be going anywhere any time soon. It made you feel significantly calmer to be close to him.

He led you to the back of the room and sat you down on the bed before sitting down next to you, his legs crossed with his hand still in yours. He looks at you for a few moments, analyzing your face and trying to read your thoughts. He didn’t like the way your eyes lingered on your lap instead of him so he raised a hand and tilted your chin upwards to make you look at him.

“Baby, you good?” he asks even though he already knew the answer to that question. You were quite far from good after all the blood you had seen. “Am i good?” you say sarcastically, mocking his own words. “Of course, I’m not! I just saw people die! Too many! Fuck, that could’ve been me or you,” you speak, your stress about the whole situation evident in your face and tone. “You gotta relax. We’re fine. Besides we’ll get out of here soon,” he says reassuringly as he looks at you with worry.

You let out a sigh and shake your head as you look to the side- away from him. It was quiet for a few moments as Thanos waited for you to say something else, knowing that you were thinking something. “What if we don’t?” you finally say as you look back at him again. “Don’t say that,” he speaks as his face hardens slightly at the idea that you might die. Fuck, he couldn’t bear the thought of you laying lifeless. “Not saying it doesn’t make it any less of a possibility,” you respond with a frown. He knows that you’re right. It’s a possibility that he can’t just ignore.

“I swear on my life that I will protect you,” he says with a sincere look on his face. It didn’t make you feel any better though because swearing on his life in a game where he could actually die wasn’t a good thing. “Don’t say that,” you speak, repeating his earlier words as your face hardens. You didn’t want him to even think about sacrificing his life for you. You couldn’t see what you’d do without him. 45.6 billion was useless if he couldn’t be there with you to spend it. 

“Okay,” he says with a small smirk as he raises his hand in mock surrender. “I’ll swear on the sun and the moon instead,” he said as he lowered his hands. His words were enough to make you smile a little. Him swearing on the sun and the moon was plenty more significant then others may think. He swore on the sun and the moon he’d treat you right when he first asked you to be his. He swore on the sun and the moon to always be there for you after a particularly bad day when you lost your dad. Most of all, he swore on the sun and the moon that he’d buy a nice house and you could get married and live happily ever after together. He never ever took the name of the sun and moon in vain and that’s why hearing him say it now made you feel just a little better about the current situation.

Thanos looked behind himself for a moment before back at you. “Hey.. if swearing on the sun and moon isn’t enough for you, I could show you how serious I am,” he says with a small smirk. It didn’t take an idiot to know what he meant by that. “..what exactly does that mean?” you question even though you already knew exactly what he meant. There was a spark of desire in his eyes that matched yours as his hand gripped yours tightly. “I don’t have to tell you for you to know,” he says before standing up and pulling you up from the bed with him. 

He drags you towards the door on the right side of the room and bangs on it loudly. “Hey, open up. Bathroom needed,” he says and the door opens after a moment. “Ladies first,” he says with a smirk as he steps out of the way to let you go in first. You shake your head, an amused smile playing on your face as you walk in. The guard led you both down the hallway and to the bathroom. Thanos didn’t waste any time in pushing past that door, dragging you behind him. 

With his patience wearing thin, he quickly pulled you into a kiss. It was unlike his usual kisses that were rough and involved his tongue jammed down your throat. This kiss was more passionate as if he was trying to say something words could never convey properly. He quickly pushed you back into one of the stalls and kicked the door closed behind him, locking it with one of his hands. He spun you around and pushed your back against the stall wall. 

“Fuck, you’re so pretty,” he mumbles after pulling away momentarily. He stares at you silently - memorizing every feature of your face. He could never get enough of how pretty you were. It felt like a miracle someone like you was with a dickhead like him. He couldn’t help but admire you. “..What? Is something wrong?” you say as you look at him with concern. You didn’t expect him to just stare at you out of nowhere and it was a little embarrassing. 

He shakes his head as he snaps out of his trance. “No, sorry. Just thinking about how fucking lucky I am,” he says before kissing you again like it’s the last time he could ever get to kiss you. In his mind, it damn well could be. One of you really could be dead by tomorrow evening and then that was it. He’d never see you smile or laugh again or look at him like he was the most important thing in the world. The thought was sickening. No matter how confident or cocky he’d act, he was still just Choi Su-bong. And Choi Su-bong was undeniably yours.

You put your arms around his neck as you kissed him back - the feeling of his hands on your waist keeping you in the moment and erasing any memory of the earlier events just for now. His hands slipped under your shirt to feel your skin before he pulled away from the kiss and opted for leaving kisses on your neck instead. He sucked at the skin so delicately and slowly, trying to savor his time with you as much as possible. His lips paused for a moment when they hovered over your pulse point before he kissed the area and bit it softly to mark you right above your pulse so he could feel your heart beat quicker - a silent confirmation that you were still very much alive. 

His hands trailed down to the waistband of your pants before he tugged them down till they dropped to the floor. His hand then pulled your underwear down too, not wanting to waste time with foreplay with the limited time you two shared together. His index finger gently traced over your clit making a moan escape the back of your mouth. “You’re already wet for me? God - I can just skip ahead then, yeah?” he says as he pulls his hand to pull his pants down along with his boxers. 

“Not even a little prep?” you question as you look at him. He laughs quietly before nodding his head. “Fine, but you better cum quick - I need to feel you,” he speaks as one of his hands finds its way to your hole again. He carefully rubs his fingers back and forth before slipping in a finger. His free hand went to cover your mouth when a moan escaped as he couldn’t risk the guard outside the bathrooms hearing and breaking up this moment with you. 

“Gotta be quiet, baby,” he says as he starts to finger you. You nod your head as you try to keep as quiet as possible. He inserts another finger and begins to quicken the pace in which he thrusted his fingers in and out of you. He kept his eyes on your face, loving your reactions to his fingers deep inside your aching core. He had always observed you like this but there was something different about it now that you two had each other to lose. Everything was so much more passionate than usual. You found that your release came much quicker this time around as you released on his fingers. 

“God, you’re so good for me,” he says as he pulls his fingers out slowly before bringing them to his mouth and tasting you. He held eye contact with you as he sucked his fingers clean before leaning down and kissing you again, his hand finding its place on the back of your neck to keep you close. He slowly lined himself up with you, his tip rubbing against your entrance making him let out a small groan. 

He slowly pushed into you, burying his face into your neck as he stretched you out with his dick. He let out a heavy huff at the feeling of being inside you. It felt euphoric. You were so unbelievably tight as he continued to inch himself further in. You let out a moan that was muffled by his hand as he finally pushed in the rest of his dick with one stroke. “You good?” he asks as he pulls his head away from your neck and looks at you. You were still for a few moments before you nodded your head - finally adjusting to the stretch.

The moment you nodded your head, he slipped out before thrusting right back in. He let out a low groan as he repeated the movement over and over, making sure you could feel every inch of his cock deep inside you. You leaned your head back against the stall door as he thrusted in and out of you with a quick pace. His hands grab at your hips roughly to keep you still while he thrusts in and out of your tight hole. “God.. Holy fucking shit,” he mumbled under his breath as the sound of skin hitting skin echoed through the bathroom. He loved being deep inside you like this. It felt so fucking good. Even more so now because it was a way to reassure himself you were still here with him and not one of the many corpses he saw earlier.

The thought you could be dead soon spurred him on to fuck you harder. He hated that possibility. He didn’t want to think about that. He just wanted to think about you. How your head was thrown back, how your arms were wrapped around his shoulders, how you tried to keep quiet but struggled because he made you feel so good. He loved every fucking part of you - you were perfect.

"Fuck - I love you. Do you hear me? I love you so fucking much. Please say it back" he spoke as he thrusted into you quickly, his pace getting sloppy as he drew ever-so closer to a sweet release. God, he wanted to fill you up with his cum but he needed to hear you say that you loved him like he loved you. He needed to know you cared for him and wouldn’t leave him anytime soon. You nodded your head before forcing yourself to look him in the eyes. “I-I love you too,” you speak and the groan he lets out is so loud.

He immediately releases with one last thrust, making sure his cum spills deep inside of you. You released along with him with a moan and you both stilled. It was quiet for a few moments aside from the heavy breathing that filled the bathroom. He leaned his forehead against yours and closed his eyes as he came down from his high. His hands slowly trailed up from your hips to your face as he gently held your cheeks in his hands.

“I love you,” he repeats as he opens his eyes and looks into yours. There was very much a different kind of look in his eyes this time. A look that told you how much he really meant what he said. There was a hint of fear in his eyes too as he genuinely feared that he may lose you sooner or later to these stupid games.

“I know,”

[shomatoriashi]

01/06/25; 06:03pm

sylus x fem.reader | non.mc

obligatory tags: @voidsylus | @milkandstarlight

warnings: unedited; semi-public s-x.

[ minors don’t interact; by choosing to interact with this content, you have consented to viewing something n-fw despite the warnings. ]

the boutique located in the n109 zone that sylus had taken you to was surrounded by dozens of high class women; those who were born with a silver spoon in their hands. now, being an average woman, you didn’t get to experience the luxuries of such a life until much later (the moment you fell in love with sylus as he swore to give you not only his heart, but anything and everything you desired as well.)

which was why you were here to begin with. even as you browsed the cute trinkets and jewelry from the store, you could feel the clerk’s eyes glaring daggers into you. not only were you receiving dark looks, but all the other employees were actively ignoring you, choosing instead to sink their claws into your lover as their saccharine voice asked if he needed any help.

“no, i’m fine, but my girlfriend could use some assistance.”

you momentarily bask in their crestfallen expression, watching as they tossed aside their curled hair before marching over to you. you had not even spoken a single word when the catty employee leans in to harshly whisper in your ear, “sorry, but i believe these cute jewels are just way too expensive for the likes of you. after all, having you wear our brand would be such a disgrace.”

as swiftly as she came, she stomps away from you, her laughter echoing throughout the store as she went to gossip with her coworkers over what had just transpired. manicured nails point at you, as their hushed whispers openly mocked you as they spoke about how unfit you were to be with mr. sylus.

grateful that sylus was entirely focused on the contents of his phone, you decided to get a tiny bit of revenge by hatching an almost diabolical plan. instead of looking at the various rings and necklaces, you cling onto sylus’s arms and point toward the direction of the section that housed all of the lingeries.

“walk me over there?” you point a finger over at where the various lingeries were on display, watching as sylus’s eyebrows go up in amusement.

“my, i wanted to take you here in order to help treat yourself. i didn’t think that i would receive a treat as well, little dove.”

you tried to appear as innocuous as possible, jutting your lips out into a pretty pout as you pulled sylus along. “but of course, i’m always willing to spoil you, sy.”

with sylus practically following you around (like a lost puppy), you have him talk to the lady manning the fitting rooms, asking him to get a key for one of the rooms as you made your selection alone. giving you a chaste kiss, he obeys your command and leaves you to your own devices-

which was exactly what you wanted to happen.

your eyes scan the various lingeries, searching for the perfect one that would set sylus off-

and within mere minutes, you found one.

the material of the flimsy piece left little to the imagination, and you could just picture the way your perky nipples would strain against such pretty lace while wrapping the most intimate part of you in ribbons-

this is the one.

folding the lingerie, you head towards the fitting rooms, seeing sylus waiting for you as he handed you the key. blowing him a kiss, you sweetly ask him to wait for you before locking yourself into the single room. taking a moment to admire such a spacious area, you muse to yourself at how this place felt like a totally different world before getting to work. putting your purse aside, you hurriedly shimmy out of your clothes, making sure you were bare before sliding on the lingerie, feeling the silk fabric fit your form to perfection. admiring yourself in the mirror, you put on a fresh coat of lip gloss while fixing your hair-

ready for sylus to make his move.

you open the door, standing seductively against it while whispering sylus’s name. he looks away from his phone, meeting your sultry gaze as his eyes widened with shock. crimson irises were felt raking down your form, making you giggle.

“like what you see, sy?”

yet the onychinus leader doesn’t answer you, choosing instead to march into your fitting room while slamming the door shut. “do i like what i see? kitten, you are absolutely divine.” you feel the way his powerful hands wrap around your waist before picking you up, forcing you to wrap your legs around his waist as you felt the way his clothed erection strained against you-

making you break out into a grin when you realized you had him; hook, line, and sinker.

he presses his hot lips press against the base of your throat when he pins you against the wall, ready to slide off your lingerie when you stopped him. “no… i want to keep this pretty lace on, just for you, sy.”

a low growl escapes from sylus, and you felt him lower his large hand between your legs before moving the ribbons that cover your center off to the side. with a gasp, you felt his large finger slowly drive itself into your wet heat before making a pumping motion. “you’re driving me crazy, love.”

hiding his face within the curve of your neck, sylus continues to pump his fingers in and out of you, drawing out breathy moans that seemed to echo throughout the boutique. with your arms wrapped around his neck, you gently grind your cunt against his fingertips while whispering in his ear, “do i feel good, wrapped around your fingers like this?”

a broken groan was heard coming from sylus when he removed his now soaked fingers out of your core, licking them clean briefly before adjusting his hold on you. he presses your chest against the walls now, making you gasp when you heard the shifting of fabric coming from behind you.

even when you weren’t able to see him, you could feel him- the sensation of hot velvet pressing against your soaked cunt before slowly sheathing itself inside of you. your gasps quickly morph into moans when sylus began to pound his cock into you, literally fucking you into the wall.

“i’m so fucking obsessed with you.” his hot whispers were all you could hear, feeling sylus press lingering kisses against your damp skin. you felt each new angle of his cock slamming back into you, causing a new wave of pleasure to hit you each time as your walls eagerly take in every inch he had to offer.

somehow, you were able to find your voice, begging him to turn you around. “l-let me look at you, sy… i want to see you as i fall apart for you.”

a low hiss was heard as sylus bites down against the lobe of your ear, heeding your command when he hurriedly pulls out of you. the sudden loss of him causes you to sob in response, with sylus gripping at your waist before allowing your back to meet the wall once more. settling himself between your thighs, sylus doesn’t waste another second when he completely impales his cock back into you.

your legs wrapped themselves around his waist, coaxing your lover to go even deeper as you felt your breasts bounce with his every movement. not even caring that you were not alone while in the midst of this expensive boutique, you allow your moans and his grunts to echo throughout the space, your back arching when you felt the way your walls sweetly wrapped around sylus’s cock before milking him for all he was worth.

spurts of his seed were felt escaping your walls as they stained at the lace and ribbons of the lingerie, with sylus letting out a content grunt. his hips sloppily thrust into you, making sure he was completely emptied before resting his weight against your shoulder. by now, you were both panting, feeling the sweat run down your respective forms as sylus pressed a lingering kiss against your shoulder.

keeping your hips still, sylus gently pulls out of you, and you moan when you felt the evidence of your respective release further stain the lingerie. sylus takes a step back, admiring how he had completely wrecked you and the flimsy fabric with an appreciative hum. as he adjusts himself (placing his softened cock back into the confines of his boxers), you watch as he zips up his pants before gathering your crumpled clothes from the ground.

not even allowing you to remove the utterly ruined lingerie, sylus helps you put on your clothes while pocketing your panties. once your blouse was on, you watch as sylus shoves your bra into the confines of your purse, hands automatically going around your waist as he presses a lingering kiss on your temple.

“keep that purchase on you; i’ll pay for it as we walk out- i’m far from being done with you, kitten.”

unlocking the door to the fitting room, sylus grabs the key and his wallet, coming face to face with a now blushing woman that had a wide eyed gaze. he tosses a few bills at her as payment for your latest purchase all while giving your backside a firm smack!

as you both walk out of the boutique, you basked in everyone’s shocked expression (red face and all!) while showing them your own, victorious smile-

having the leader of onychinus as your lover meant that you would always have free reign to do whatever you wished to do (since everyone feared him and would never wish to go against him), and even if you weren’t born with the world given to you on a silver platter-

sylus was all too willing to fix that and make it a reality for you.

end notes: so i had a n a u g h t y daydream earlier and decided to make it a r e a l i t y… (⺣◡⺣)♡

all stories are written by rei; please do not repost, plagiarize, or translate my works!!

[pbaz7]

AGAINST THE TIDE: PART NINE

paige x azzi

word count: 6.4k

A/N: Alright I’m feeling much better and I’m no longer losing my shit after CD said she wouldn’t call it an injury 🙂‍↕️. Here’s the next chapter! It’s a little rough at the beginning but just get through it trust me . Please leave live reacts if you can, I need a little extra motivation today 😭

———————————��—————————————

October 2022

For weeks after their argument, Paige kept her word. She stayed true to her role as Azzi’s best friend and was there anytime the younger girl needed her, it didn’t matter what she was doing, she was there. She did make Azzi stop coming with her to physical therapy though, and Nika had stepped in to take her place. Physical therapy always got a little too intimate when they’d ask whoever accompanied Paige to push on her knee and Paige knew that she and Azzi couldn’t handle that right now. They still spent time together–Paige helping Azzi in the gym here and there, texting during the day, hanging out sporadically, studying–but everything had changed. There were clear lines now. They didn’t flirt, they didn’t touch in ways that meant anything more than friendship. It was as though they were back to where they started, but it was painfully different.

Paige had started hanging out more with Ice, the freshman who quickly became a source of amusement for her. Ice's humor was dry and a little corny, and Paige found herself genuinely laughing more than she had since her and Azzi ended things. If that’s what you would call it. But even with Ice’s company, there were still moments when she couldn’t help but think about Azzi. It wasn’t that she didn’t love their friendship now, but it didn’t fill the large space Azzi once occupied when they were clearly more than friends.

Ice leaned back in her chair, her expression one of pure disbelief. “That’s bullshit. I refuse to believe there was a point when you and Azzi didn’t like each other.”

Paige chuckled, shaking her head. “I swear, we couldn’t stand each other. Every little thing she did annoyed me and she hated me honestly.”

Ice raised an eyebrow, smirking. “And now look at you, a full-blown simp. How the tables have turned.”

Paige rolled her eyes, though a grin tugged at her lips. “Yeah, yeah, laugh it up.”

“So how’d you two even get past that?” Ice asked, leaning forward with genuine curiosity. “Like, how’d you go from ‘can’t stand each other’ to…” she gestured vaguely, “this?”

Paige’s laugh softened, and she shrugged. “The gym, mostly. We kinda connected over basketball first. That was the one thing we could agree on. At first, we only talked about basketball—nothing else. But once we built a decent foundation of not wanting to kill each other every two seconds, we started hanging out more. It just…happened from there.”

Ice nodded thoughtfully, then shrugged. “Why don’t you just do that again this time then?”

Paige gave her a look. “We don’t need to build a foundation, Ice. She’s still my best friend.”

“Righttt,” Ice said, dragging out the word with heavy sarcasm. “Your best friend that you’re in love with, and you haven’t seen in like five days.”

Paige rolled her eyes again, though a faint blush crept up her cheeks. “We text.”

Ice snorted. “That’s not the same, and you know it.”

Paige shrugged again, a small smile playing on her lips. “It’s just… a little hard to be around each other sometimes now.”

Ice narrowed her eyes suspiciously. “Why?”

Paige didn’t answer, but the grin on her face grew wider, her expression practically glowing with unspoken thoughts.

Ice groaned, throwing her head back dramatically. “Ew, dude. You’re disgusting.”

Paige just laughed, grabbing a basketball nearby and bouncing it lightly off Ice’s arm. “Shut up.”

But as the laughter faded, Paige’s expression softened, her smile dimming into something more thoughtful. “Honestly though, Azzi just needs some space from me to figure things out, and I’m trying to give her that.”

Ice tilted her head, her curiosity piqued. “Space for what?”

Paige hesitated, her fingers idly spinning the basketball in her lap. She glanced away briefly before answering, her tone careful and measured. “She has a lot of internal things to figure out before she can even think about being with me. I realized it a while ago but I don’t know if she has.”

Ice’s brow furrowed, but she nodded slowly. “That sounds… rough.”

“It is,” Paige admitted, her voice quieter now. “But she’s worth it. So I’m giving her what she needs.”

Ice studied her for a moment, then leaned back with a small smile. “Damn P, you really love her, huh?”

Paige didn’t even flinch. She met Ice’s gaze, a soft but unwavering certainty in her eyes. “Yeah, I do.”

Ice smirked, her teasing tone returning. “You’re still a simp, though.”

Paige groaned, chucking the basketball at her again, though the grin tugging at her lips betrayed her. “Shut up, Ice.”

November 2022

The next month was much harder than Paige thought it would be. Between missing Azzi and being sidelined by her injury and not being able to start the season with the team, she felt like she was drowning most days. Basketball, her usual escape, was no longer an option. Instead, she found herself in the gym, not to work out but to just sit in the silence, wishing she could push her body for hours on end. But eventually she’d get too frustrated when all she could do was shoot a few flat footed shots and she'd just let herself cry in the empty gym until she didn’t have any more energy. Other times, she’d just sit in her car, staring ahead, trying to calm her thoughts. More than once, she ended up sick at the sight of the back seat—a painful reminder of what, and who, was missing.

Azzi wasn’t doing much better. She’d become a mirror of who Paige used to be, burying herself in the gym day and night, trying to outrun her thoughts. Paige was still there for her, though, which made Azzi feel like even more of an ass, having somebody as sweet as Paige, just waiting for her to get her shit together. When things were a little too hard and Azzi would come to her door with tear stained eyes in the middle of the night Paige always let her in, let her talk about whatever she needed to or just sleep. The first time it happened was a random Tuesday at 3am.

Azzi’s knocks were gentle and tentative at first but it was enough for Paige to stir, her mind still fuzzy from sleep as the knock came again, a little louder this time. She groggily threw off her blanket and shuffled to the door, blinking against the dim hallway light cascading from the bottom of the door.

When she opened it, Azzi stood there, her mascara streaked down her cheeks, her eyes red and swollen, as though the weight of the world had poured out of her. There were no words, no explanations, just a look that said everything, Paige didn’t ask, she just stepped aside, letting Azzi into the warmth of the room. Azzi’s shoulders were trembling, but she didn’t speak, her chest rising and falling in slow uneven breaths. Paige closed the door softly behind her, then walked back to her bed, sinking back into the mattress where Azzi now laid, holding one of Paige’s pillows close.

Paige reached over, draping her arm against Azzi’s torso as she pulled her closer but not quite cuddling her. Just enough to let Azzi know she wasn’t alone as Paige’s eyes fluttered shut drifting back to sleep.

After that night Paige couldn’t imagine not being there for Azzi, knowing what she was struggling with. But things weren’t the same. They didn’t text everyday anymore, and their hangouts had all but stopped after it became clear that they didn’t really know how to be just friends anymore. The space between them, once so easy to close, now felt like an endless stretch.

Azzi blamed herself for what happened between them. She was constantly fighting an internal battle that seemed like a losing game. One part of her knew exactly how she felt about Paige, knew she wanted the older girl more than anything. The other half was a constant pull against this thought process. The part of her brain that was telling her she wasn’t the type of person who takes risks like this, she didn’t gamble her future that she had worked so hard for. Constantly in her own ear telling herself she had every right to be scared.

Now, Paige sat alone in the empty gym, her legs stretched out in front of her, a basketball resting at her feet. She knew she couldn’t play much, just dribble around and shoot here and there, so she came here to think, to feel some semblance of peace. The quiet of the gym was comforting, even if it couldn’t heal what was broken, only Azzi could do that.

The sound of the door opening broke the silence. Paige glanced up to see Azzi standing there, her figure framed by the dim gym lights. Azzi paused, stuck in the doorway. The sight of Paige, lost in thought, felt all too familiar, stirring memories of another time they’d both hesitated to bridge the distance between them.

For a moment, neither of them spoke, both caught in a whirlwind of emotions and memories. Paige chuckled softly at the irony, breaking the tension, and nudged the ball with her foot, sending it rolling toward Azzi.

Azzi’s lips curved into a small smile as she stepped inside, picking up the ball. She hesitated again, glancing at Paige, before making her way over. She sat down beside her but left enough space between them to keep the air light, uncertain. Neither of them spoke right away, the quiet wrapping around them like a truce.

Paige was the first to break the silence, her voice cutting through the stillness. “You played like shit last game.”

Azzi blinked, then burst out laughing, the unexpectedness of Paige’s comment catching her off guard. “Shit is an understatement,” she admitted, shaking her head.

Paige smirked, leaning back slightly. “What’d you come here to work on?”

Azzi shrugged, a noncommittal gesture. “Anything, I guess.”

Paige hummed thoughtfully as she got to her feet, grabbing the ball. Ice’s words from October echoing in her mind now. She spun the ball between her hands, glancing at Azzi. “Why you been taking so long to shoot lately?”

Azzi crossed her arms, tilting her head. “The passes are all over the place,” she said simply. “I got used to you hitting me in stride so it’s a big adjustment.”

Paige paused, nodding as she processed Azzi’s words. There was a quiet understanding in the air—an acknowledgment of how much they relied on each other, on and off the court.

By now, Azzi had stood up, her eyes tracking the ball as Paige passed it casually between her hands. Paige grinned. “Let’s work on it.”

Azzi raised a brow, confused. “Work on what?”

Paige laughed, her grin widening. “I’m about to throw you some of the worst passes of your life, and you’re gonna work on shooting without taking too much time to adjust the ball.”

Azzi couldn’t help but laugh at that, shaking her head in disbelief. “You’re ridiculous,” she said, but her feet were already carrying her toward the court.

Before they began, Azzi paused and looked at Paige. “I miss you,” she said softly, her voice carrying the weight of everything left unsaid between them.

Paige’s expression softened, and a small, genuine smile spread across her face. “I miss you too, Az,” she replied, her tone equally tender. Then, without missing a beat, she threw Azzi an intentionally terrible pass, the ball veering off to the side.

Azzi barely managed to catch it, quickly gathering herself for the shot, but the ball clanged off the rim.

Paige smirked. “Not bad. Now do it faster and try making it next time.”

Azzi rolled her eyes but couldn’t fight the smile tugging at her lips. They fell into an easy rhythm after that, Paige throwing increasingly awful passes, and Azzi working to shoot without hesitation. Laughter echoed through the gym when the passes were too bad to catch, blending with the rhythmic sound of the ball hitting the hardwood.

For the first time in a long time, it felt like they were back in sync—no words needed, just the game and each other.

The rhythm they had fallen into was effortless, the sound of Azzi’s playlist flowing through the speakers now as they worked on her shot. Laughter occasionally filled the gym, the tension from the past weeks melting away with every pass and shot.

That is, until the music cut off, replaced by the ring of an incoming call.

Azzi, mid-dribble, glanced toward her phone sitting on the floor. “Can you check who it is?” she asked Paige, who was closer.

Paige hesitated for a moment before walking over. She glanced at the screen, the name flashing boldly. Her jaw tightened ever so slightly, but it was enough for Azzi to notice. Paige cleared her throat. “Somebody named Elle,” she said, her tone a little too neutral.

Azzi didn’t miss the shift in Paige’s posture or the way her eyes flicked away from the phone. She didn’t need Paige to say anything; she could see the wheels turning in her head.

“It’s not what you think, Paige,” Azzi said, her voice firm but gentle.

Paige shook her head, brushing it off with a forced smile. “No, Azzi, you don’t have to explain—”

“Paige,” Azzi cut her off, stepping closer. “She’s my partner for a project. That’s it.”

Paige looked down, her fingers grazing the edge of her shirt. “It’s fine if it was something else you know,” she said softly, though the words felt hollow even to her.

“No, it isn’t,” Azzi said firmly, her voice leaving no room for doubt in Paige’s mind. “It isn’t fine because I don’t want anybody else. I only want you, Paige. I’ve told you that, and I mean it.”

Paige’s shoulders sagged slightly, guilt flashing across her face. “I’m sorry,” she murmured. “I know it’s not really my place.”

Azzi stepped even closer, her eyes searching Paige’s. “It is your place,” she said, her voice softer now. “So you don’t need to apologize.”

Paige glanced at her, caught in the sincerity of Azzi’s gaze. The tension in the air softened, the weight between them shifting back into something warm and steady.

“Okay,” Paige finally said, her voice barely above a whisper.

Azzi nodded, giving her a small smile. “Good. Now come back over here—I’m not done getting used to these terrible passes.”

Paige chuckled despite herself, picking up the ball. And just like that, they found their rhythm again, though the words exchanged lingered, a quiet reassurance binding them closer.

After finishing up in the gym, both of them grabbed their things and headed out. Paige made her way toward her car, expecting Azzi to follow. But when she glanced over her shoulder, she noticed Azzi strolling casually along the sidewalk.

Paige frowned, stopping in her tracks. “What are you doing?” she called out.

Azzi glanced back with a small shrug. “I didn’t drive.”

Paige’s eyes widened in disbelief, a mix of offense and exasperation flashing across her face. “You thought I was going to let you walk?” she said, her tone incredulous.

Azzi chuckled but didn’t respond, her smile widening as Paige simply muttered, “Unbelievable.”

With a grin, Azzi turned and walked toward Paige’s car. Paige muttered under her breath the whole time, just loud enough for Azzi to hear. “She’s gotta be crazy. Can’t believe she thought I’d let her walk. Who does she think I am?”

When they reached the car, Paige yanked open the passenger door, motioning for Azzi to get in. Azzi stepped in with a laugh, and Paige shut the door with more force than necessary, her irritation over something so small almost comical.

By the time Paige slid into the driver’s seat, Azzi was grinning at her. “I miss how dramatic you are,” she teased, still laughing softly.

Paige shot her a glare as she started the car. “You give me a fucking headache Azzi,” she said, but there was no bite to her words.

When they arrived back at the dorms, Paige’s suite came up first. She slowed to a stop, slinging her bag over her shoulder and turning toward Azzi.

“Night,” Paige said, already halfway to the door.

Azzi nodded but didn’t keep walking. “Paige,” she called, her voice stopping Paige in her tracks.

Paige turned back, raising an eyebrow slightly, her curiosity piqued. “Yeah?”

Azzi hesitated for a moment, then smiled softly. “I’ve been thinking…can we maybe talk tomorrow?”

Paige blinked, her confusion evident, but she nodded. “Yeah… of course,” she said, her tone cautious.

Azzi’s smile widened a little , though she didn’t offer any explanation. “I’ll text you,” she said simply.

Paige gave her a small smile in return. “Okay. Goodnight, Az.”

“Goodnight, P,” Azzi replied, her voice quiet but warm as she turned to walk toward her own suite.

Paige lingered for a second, watching Azzi’s retreating figure, her mind swirling with questions. Finally, she shook her head and headed inside, her thoughts lingering on the way Azzi had looked at her just now.

…

The next day, around 1 PM, Paige’s phone buzzed with a text from Azzi.

💗: You hungry? Let’s grab some food

Paige smiled at the message, typing a quick reply.

P 💗: Yeah that works for me

It didn’t take long for Azzi to reply.

💗: We’re taking my car.

Paige frowned slightly, shooting back a quick question mark.

P 💗: ?

The response came almost immediately.

💗: I almost threw up in your car yesterday when Steve Lacy came on

Paige let out a loud laugh, immediately understanding what Azzi was referring to as she had her own struggles being in there sometimes. She shook her head, typing back with a smirk.

P 💗: That’s dramatic, even for you

Azzi’s reply was short but effective.

💗: Not taking any chances

Still chuckling, Paige grabbed her things, her mood lighter than it had been in days. Azzi always had a way of pulling her out of her head, even with something as simple as sending a few texts.

They sat down at a corner table, the comforting hum of the restaurant around them as they ate their Chipotle bowls. The familiar, easy chatter filled the space between them yesterday being what they needed to return to the natural rhythm of their friendship, the laughter, and the simple joy of each other's company.

But, as the conversation slowly died down, Azzi looked at Paige, her expression shifting slightly.

“I want us to start over,” Azzi said quietly, her voice soft but serious.

Paige blinked, furrowing her brow. “Start over? What do you mean?”

Azzi took a deep breath, clearly trying to find the right words. “I want us to try this again, but—” she paused, trying to make sure she found the right words. “I want us to do it the right way this time.”

Paige tilted her head, her confusion evident but her tone gentle with Azzi like always. “Azzi, what are you saying?”

Azzi’s gaze was unwavering as she leaned forward slightly, the space between them feeling more intimate. “I want us to date, Paige,” she said, her voice steady.

Paige’s eyebrows furrowed for a moment before a soft, teasing smile tugged at her lips. “So... you want to be my girlfriend now?”

Azzi hesitated, her fingers tapping gently against the edge of the table. “No…at least not yet,” she said, her voice calm but firm. “I want us to go on dates and test the waters. We did things the wrong way, and I want to fix it.”

Paige’s eyes softened as a slow smile began to form on her lips. She leaned forward slightly, clearly proud of Azzi. “Tell me more about it.”

Azzi smiled at the shift in Paige’s expression, the spark of curiosity now in her eyes. “We can go on dates,” Azzi continued, her voice steady as she outlined her plan she thought a lot about. “But I’m not going to let you kiss me until we have a few dates. And we’re not going to have sex for a while, or we’re going to at least try really hard not to. I want us to get to know each other as two people dating, not just best friends who happen to be doing this.”

Paige nodded, as she listened to her. She hadn’t expected Azzi to say something like this when she asked her to lunch today, but it made sense for her. It was a different approach, one that felt like it had the potential to be something more controlled. Something more grounded. Which is exactly what Azzi needed.

“So, where’s this coming from?” Paige asked, her voice low with curiosity but also a touch of tenderness. “I thought you were—”

Azzi cut her off, her gaze soft but unwavering. “Despite what you think, Paige,” she said quietly, “I’m in love with you. These past few weeks have done nothing but show me that. I’m still scared as hell, but I want to at least try.”

Paige swallowed, her heart beating a little faster at the sincerity in Azzi’s voice. She really hadn’t expected this, she expected Azzi to try to mend their friendship, try to get back to their usual routine of hanging out. But the more Paige thought about it she understood. Azzi was always so detailed and plan oriented. She always needed steps and checkpoints to ease her mind, to let her see the progress she was making.

“I’m not asking for anything,” Azzi continued, her voice a little shaky now that Paige hadn’t said much. “I just want to start fresh. I want us to really try.”

Paige leaned back slightly, her arms folded across her chest as she processed Azzi’s words. The weight of everything that had been said, everything that had been left unsaid, hung heavily in the air. She couldn’t help but hesitate, uncertainty creeping in despite the hope in her chest.

“How do I know you’re not just going to change your mind again?” Paige asked, her voice quiet. She wanted to believe Azzi, wanted to dive into this with her, but it was hard to shake that lingering fear of being hurt again.

Azzi didn’t flinch at the question. She just looked at Paige, with a calmness that her voice conveyed when she answered. “You don’t,” she said simply. “That’s the thing I had to get over. We don’t really know what’s going to happen. That’s been my fear this whole time. Not knowing. Not being in control of it. But we never know what’s going to happen at any point in life so.”

Paige’s gaze softened, and she nodded slowly, taking in what Azzi was saying. But Azzi wasn’t done, and she shifted slightly, her hands in her lap as she continued.

“I was talking to my mom the other day,” Azzi began, her voice quieter now, but still with a hint of vulnerability. “And she tried to make me laugh by asking who shat in my breakfast. But honestly, it just made me cry more than anything.”

Paige couldn’t help but chuckle, knowing exactly how Katie could be. “Figures,” she said with a soft smile, her heart lifting slightly at the mention of Azzi’s mom.

Azzi smiled too, but the smile was fleeting, and the seriousness returned quickly. “Yeah. But... I told her everything that’s been going on. All of it. How I feel about you. About us.” She paused, her fingers nervously twisting the hem of her shirt. “Some parts of the story shocked her, honestly. I thought she was going to yell at me, but she didn’t. She just listened.”

Paige’s eyes widened a little, a surprise settling in her chest. She hadn’t expected that. For Azzi to talk to her mom about them already? It was a huge step. It made her heart skip a little—an odd mix of pride and tenderness swelling inside her knowing Azzi had come out to her mom.

“How... how did it go?” Paige asked softly, unsure of how to phrase the question but needing to know. She could sense how much this conversation had meant to Azzi.

Azzi’s lips curved into a small, reassuring smile. “It was fine. Perfectly fine, actually,” she said, her voice steady now. “I thought it was going to be hard, but... she already kind of knew. I mean, she’s not blind. She said she could tell something was going on, especially with how much time you spend at our place whenever we’re on break. She thought it was pretty obvious.”

Paige blinked in surprise. She hadn’t thought Katie would pick up on that. “Really?”

Azzi nodded, her gaze soft but thoughtful. “Yeah. She’s always been good at reading me, even when I’m not saying anything. We were talking for a while after I explained everything... she said something that kinda struck a nerve.” Azzi’s voice lowered again, a little more humor to it. “She was explaining some stupid metaphor that I could never understand, and she said life is all about taking chances. Usually, the best ones—the ones that really matter—are the ones that scare us the most.”

Azzi’s eyes met Paige’s, and there was something raw, something real, in the way she looked at her. “And you scare the hell out of me, Paige,” she said quietly, her words filled with sincerity. “So that’s exactly why I can’t just let us pass by. I can’t keep living in the ‘what ifs.’ I’ve been too afraid, and I’m tired of being afraid.”

Finally, Paige let out a deep breath and reached across the table, her hand finding Azzi’s with a gentle squeeze. “I’m scared too,” Paige admitted softly.

Azzi’s eyes softened, and she squeezed Paige’s hand in return, her voice barely above a whisper. “I’m not asking for anything more than what I said. I just want to try, Paige. I want us to take it slow, to get to know each other again and see where it goes.”

Paige’s smile was small but genuine, her heart fluttering at the thought of what could be. “Okay. We’ll try,” she said, the words feeling right. “We’ll take it slow.”

Azzi’s smile mirrored hers, though it was still laced with vulnerability.

…

This is how, a few days later, Paige and Azzi were on their first date.

Azzi had initially tried to take the reins, attempting to plan every detail, but Paige quickly vetoed the idea, claiming she’d been waiting for months to make this happen. Azzi didn’t even try to argue with that logic.

Now, they were on their way to a mystery destination Paige refused to disclose, with music filling the car. The ride was easy, lighthearted, and full of laughter—until Azzi reached out and skipped another Steve Lacy song.

Paige couldn’t help but laugh, glancing over at her. “What? Are we never listening to the album again?”

Azzi shot her a glare but couldn’t entirely hide the amused glint in her eyes. “Not for a long time, we’re not,” she retorted firmly, her voice dripping with mocking distress.

Paige only chuckled as they pulled into a parking lot. Azzi’s curiosity grew as she turned her attention ahead, her brow furrowing slightly until recognition dawned. Her lips curved into a wide grin.

“You brought me to the fair?” she asked, her voice tinged with excitement.

Paige glanced at her, her own smile soft but proud. “Yeah. Dinner’s boring,” she said simply, shrugging as if it was the most obvious decision in the world.

Azzi laughed, her eyes sparkling as she shook her head. “Of course you’d think that.”

Paige leaned back in her seat, looking out at the glowing lights of the fairground. “Come on, big head,” she said, unbuckling her seatbelt.

…

Their date was going amazingly. Azzi, naturally, made Paige get her a funnel cake, ignoring Paige’s protests as she tore off a piece and practically forced it into Paige’s mouth. Paige grumbled but couldn’t hide the smile tugging at her lips.

As the night went on, it became obvious that Paige was annoyingly good at everything. Every time Azzi swore Paige was about to lose a game, Paige proved her wrong. Neither of them wanted any of the prizes, so Paige made a habit of giving them away, handing stuffed animals and trinkets to random kids. The two of them would watch as the kids ran off, bouncing with excitement, leaving Azzi shaking her head at how effortlessly charming Paige could be with all ages.

Now, they were strolling through the fair, Paige’s arm casually draped over Azzi’s shoulder while Azzi leaned into her side, the warmth of the moment wrapping around them like the glowing lights of the fairground. But their quiet bubble burst when a small fan recognized Paige.

The fan approached cautiously, smiling nervously. “Hey, Paige, can I get a quick picture?”

Paige offered a warm smile. “Of course.”

After the fan snapped a picture with Paige, they hesitated before turning to Azzi. “Um, can I get one with you too Azzi?”

Azzi blinked in surprise before smiling and nodding. “Sure.”

Once the pictures were taken and the fan left with a cheerful wave, Paige’s attention shifted, her eyes catching sight of something in the distance. “Oh my god,” she muttered, her face lighting up as she grabbed Azzi’s hand.

“What?” Azzi asked, laughing at Paige’s sudden enthusiasm.

Paige didn’t answer, pulling her toward the basketball booth, where a massive Olaf stuffed animal sat on display. “It’s too good to be true,” she said, practically bouncing with excitement.

When they reached the booth, Paige handed the worker some tickets. He explained the rules, telling her she needed to make three out of five shots to win. Paige nodded and stepped up to the line drawn on the concrete.

But the worker held up a hand. “Nah, I know who you are. You gotta scoot back,” he said with a grin.

Paige laughed, stepping back as Azzi chuckled beside her. “Uh oh, the pressures on now,” Azzi teased.

Paige made the first four shots with ridiculous ease, defying the odds of the notoriously rigged carnival game. As she took her time with each shot a small crowd had gathered to watch her, but Paige was unfazed.

The worker let her take the fifth shot just for fun, even though she’d already won. Azzi, standing to the side, couldn’t resist teasing her. “You’re such a show-off,” she said, crossing her arms with a smirk.

Paige, knowing full well Azzi secretly loved it, grinned as she lined up the last shot. Without breaking eye contact with Azzi, she released the ball. The ball going in.

Azzi rolled her eyes, shaking her head with a laugh. “You’re irritating.”

Paige strolled over to the worker, who handed her the massive Olaf. Without hesitation, Paige turned and placed it into Azzi’s arms.

“This one’s yours,” Paige said with a confident grin.

Azzi looked down at the stuffed Olaf and then back at Paige, her expression softening. “You’re cute, you know that?”

Paige just smiled at her, as she felt a tap on her lower back seeing a little girl with a huge smile on her face.

After Paige and Azzi finished taking pictures with a few fans who had crowded around to watch Paige play the game, she and Azzi resumed walking through the fairground, their steps in sync. Paige’s arm once again draped casually over Azzi’s shoulder, the familiar, comforting ease of their connection returning.

They walked in silence for a few moments, but the air between them was full of understanding. They didn’t need to fill every moment with words—just the presence of each other was enough.

When they reached the car, Paige opened the door for Azzi like always. Azzi smiled, appreciating the gesture every time Paige does it, before sliding into the passenger seat. Paige walked around the front of the car, slipping into the driver’s side. She took a moment to glance over at Azzi, who was still holding the Olaf stuffie, her eyes soft but smiling.

Paige gave a small smirk as she started the engine, teasing, “You’re actually keeping it, huh?”

Azzi rolled her eyes playfully, adjusting the stuffed Olaf on her lap. “Yes, it’s Olaf. I’m keeping it.”

Paige laughed, shaking her head as she pulled out of the parking lot. The soft hum of the engine filled the silence between them as they drove off towards UConn, the glow of the fair behind them, leaving only the warmth of the moment to hold onto.

…

Long after Paige had “dropped” Azzi off following their first date, she found herself wandering into the gym. She wasn’t entirely sure why, but something about the court always drew her in. Spotting Azzi on the court dribbling, Paige couldn’t help but chuckle softly to herself.

Azzi noticed her almost immediately, stopping mid-dribble with a smile. “What are you doing here?”

Paige smirked, walking further onto the court. “I could ask you the same thing.”

Azzi shrugged as Paige closed the distance, casually swatting the ball out of her hand. Azzi laughed, shaking her head. “Ah, there’s my annoying best friend.”

Paige laughed along, saying. “Ahh, so I’m ‘best friend Paige’ right now, huh?”

Azzi nodded, still grinning.

Paige raised an eyebrow, tilting her head dramatically. “Okay then, tell me something. I heard you went on a date tonight.”

Azzi chuckled at Paige’s antics, her laughter light and easy. “I did.”

Paige dribbled the ball a few times, casually lining up a close-range shot. “How was it?”

Azzi tilted her head, pretending to consider it. “Ehh I was a little nervous at first, but I actually loved it.”

Paige glanced at her with a playful smirk. “Nervous? Why were you nervous?”

Azzi’s gaze softened as she shrugged, her voice quieter. “You know why.”

Paige arched an eyebrow, her voice teasing. “Humor me.”

Instead of answering directly, Azzi pivoted the conversation. “I went on some dates when we weren’t talking, like you suggested.”

Paige paused mid-dribble, her curiosity piqued. “You did?”

Azzi nodded, fidgeting with her hands. “Yeah... with girls.”

Paige hummed at this as she resumed dribbling, her voice casual but interested. “How were they?”

Azzi shrugged, her expression thoughtful. “They were okay. It’s not like I was trying to figure out feelings for them... more so to figure out myself.”

Paige nodded, her gaze softening with a soft smile. “And?”

Azzi smiled faintly, her tone more serious now. “They helped. The conversation with my mom I was telling you about? A whole lot easier after that.”

Paige paused her dribbling to smile at Azzi, her voice full of warmth. “I’m proud of you, Az.”

Azzi’s lips curled into a small, grateful smile, the sincerity of Paige’s words lingering in the air.

Azzi met Paige’s gaze, her tone playful yet sincere. “There’s a little more attention that comes with going on a date with Connecticut’s version of Jesus though.”

Paige burst out laughing, tossing the ball softly at Azzi, who caught it with a grin.

Azzi continued, her voice shifting to something more serious. “I was nervous at first because I knew people would recognize us—mostly you. It’s a lot of extra attention.”

Paige nodded, her grin slowly growing as she listened.

Azzi tilted her head, narrowing her eyes. “What? Why are you smiling like that?”

Paige leaned casually against the wall, her grin turning a bit smug. “You know I picked the fair on purpose, right?”

Azzi’s brows furrowed. “No...”

Paige smirked, folding her arms. “It’s far enough from campus that we wouldn’t be recognized as much, but it’s also a Thursday, which means there weren’t going to be a lot of teenagers or people our age there. Just a bunch of kids with their parents or older people. People our age would usually go on Fridays or Saturdays.”

Azzi blinked, processing the thoughtfulness behind Paige’s planning.

Paige stepped closer, her voice softening. “I picked today because I knew anyone who approached us would either be a super-excited kid or an old-school basketball fan who wouldn’t care why it was just the two of us there together. I wanted it to be... easier for you.”

Azzi was stunned, her lips parting slightly as she stared at Paige. “You really thought that far ahead?”

Paige shrugged with a casual air, though her gaze was warm. “I know you, Az. I know how hard this is for you.”

Azzi laughed, her tone light again as she tried to hide how much Paige’s words meant to her. “If you knew what I was struggling with the whole time, why’d you let me make it seem like basketball was the only thing stopping me?”

Paige’s smile softened, her voice dropping just enough to convey her sincerity. “Because I needed to give you time. It’s not a realization someone else can process for you.”

The air between them shifted as Paige leaned casually against the wall, her height slightly towering over Azzi with the way they were standing. The space between them grew smaller without either of them noticing.

Azzi tilted her head up to look at Paige, her expression soft. “I miss your eyes,” she said quietly, almost as if the words slipped out without her permission.

Paige chuckled, the sound warm and familiar. “That’s always the first thing you say to me.” Her grin widened, teasing but fond.

Azzi didn’t bother denying it, her gaze unwavering. The weight of her words lingered in the air, pulling them closer in a way that had nothing to do with proximity.

After a moment, Azzi whispered, her tone playful but with a hint of nervousness, “I’m not letting you kiss me.”

Paige’s toothy grin grew, her confidence shining through. “That’s fine.” Her voice was low, carrying just enough to make Azzi’s breath hitch.

But Paige didn’t move away. She stayed close, her presence overwhelming yet comforting, as she just took in Azzi standing in front of her.

Azzi didn’t respond, her lips quirking up just slightly. Instead, she shook her head with a quiet laugh, looking away but refusing to step back.

Paige finally stepped back, breaking the tension with a soft laugh. The sound lingered in the air, as she picked up a basketball and started dribbling casually.

Azzi rolled her eyes, grabbing her bag muttering, “I’m leaving.”

Paige’s laugh grew louder as she called after her, “See you later, princess!”

Azzi didn’t stop or turn around, but a faint smile spread across her face. She lifted her hand and stuck her middle finger up in response, a playful gesture that made Paige laugh even harder as Azzi walked out of the gym.

[seulszn]

B.A.S (Both Ain’t Shit)

Fuck it, guess we both ain’t shit

Pairings: Caitlyn X Mel X Reader.

Warnings: smut (fingering), cussing, public sex.

A/N: I wanna thank my sister @2000blde and my friends @grosspube, Kya, and Sina for helping me out with this fic it was a loooong struggle and I promised them this. Also this was suppose to come out yesterday for Caitlyn’s birthday but I had a terrible tooth ache.

You don't know how you got into this messy situation. In a crowded room where businessmen talk about the latest stocks and celebrities discuss the juiciest drama going on.

But Mel and Caitlyn those two were nowhere to be found the two most important woman in the business world are in a janitor's closet fucking their girlfriend like it was your last day on earth.

The smell of cleaning supplies lingered faintly in the air, mingling with the heady scent of sweat and arousal. The small space felt suffocating, yet you couldn’t care less as their bodies trapped you between them. Mel’s lips were on your neck, her teeth grazing the sensitive skin as she left her mark, making her dominance clear.

Their movements were relentless, urgent, like this was the last night they’d ever have with you. Mel’s low, commanding voice filled your ear as she whispered filthy promises, her hand sliding up your thigh, joining Caitlyn in their shared effort to unravel you completely.

The sharp contrast of Mel’s fiery intensity and Caitlyn’s calculated precision was dizzying, leaving you gasping, barely able to form a coherent thought.

You were theirs, and they made sure you felt every second of it, as if they truly believed it might be their last chance to claim you.

The party outside might as well have been on another planet. The world they ruled so effortlessly had been left behind, the only thing that mattered now being your trembling body between them and the sinful pleasure they were determined to wring from you.

Mel’s gaze is fixed on you, dark and hungry, like a predator sizing up her prey. Her lips curl into a teasing smirk, her golden eyes practically undressing you as though she can already taste you on her tongue. The way she watches you makes your pulse race, every inch of you aching under the weight of her attention.

“Relax baby let us take care of you” With a soft, reassuring voice, Caitlyn coos as her hands glide over the smooth fabric of your expensive black dress. In one fluid and practiced motion, she slips it off your shoulders, letting the luxurious material cascade down your body effortlessly.

The dress pools at your feet for just a moment before Caitlyn scoops it up and casually tosses it into the depths of the closet, Removing your bra the dark skinned girl is fast to latch her mouth onto your breasts sucking and biting on the sensitive nipple.

Their warmth surrounds you, the air thick with anticipation and unspoken desire. Neither of them moves with any urgency, but the tension between the three of you is almost unbearable.

Meanwhile, Caitlyn’s touch is agonizingly slow, her fingertips barely grazing the soft skin of your thighs as they travel downward. The featherlight sensation sends shivers racing across your body, your breath hitching when her fingers finally hook around the waistband of your panties. She slides them down with infuriating precision, her nails scraping gently against your skin as she goes.

When Caitlyn’s fingers find your soaked clit, she pauses, circling it just enough to make your knees weak. A strangled whimper escapes you, the anticipation coiling tight in your core. Sandwiched between them, unable to move or do anything but wait, you silently plead for them to stop teasing and finally claim you.

Caitlyn’s middle and ring finger brush against your folds she's teasing the fuck out of you and you fucking hate it both of them are touching you but this isn't enough whimpering out the blue haired girl snickers as she places her chin against your shoulder “what baby girl? You have to use your words you know this” she coos as her teeth nip at your shoulder.

Please Cait- Mel please fuck me” you mew as both women let out a breathy chuckle at your desperation. Happy at your begs, Caitlyn rewards you by shoving her thin fingers so far inside your cunt that you’d squeal. Drawn-out circles are traced on your swollen clit, her fingers fucking you with the correct quantity of pressure you arch your back against Caitlyn moaning.

“you're such a slut” she whispers in your ear. Her voice is enticing, she knows how to make your legs squirming, and desperate for more. She has that control over you that's what made you so attracted to her. Their touches are rough, yet gentle but you find yourself responding to it still begging for more.

“You like this huh? Us fucking you in public” Mel says wrapping her hand around your throat slightly choking Mel watches you closely, the smirk on her face growing as your eyes roll to the back of your head. Caitlyn's thumb presses down on your clit, and you can't help but buck your hips, the pleasure too intense to hold back.

You squeal as the dark skinned woman grabs ahold of your face squeezing it making your lips pucker up “you don't want them to hear us hm? Be quiet dear” she demands as Cait continues to finger-fuck you roughly.

“Do you hear how wet you are?” Mel questions as her eyes stay glued on your expression wet squelch noises coming from your cunt and the mixture of your moans that fill the closet you know the people outside can hear the nasty sounds your cunt is making. You nod your head as she scoffs at your fucked out face before pulling you closer to her.

Her lips brushed yours, soft and tentative at first, testing the waters. The faintest sigh escaped you as her warmth drew you closer. She deepens the kiss, her lips steadfast and purposeful, molding perfectly against yours. Mel hands slid up to cradle the back of your neck, fingers threading into your hair. The kiss grew more passionate, her tongue tracing the seam of your lips before slipping inside, exploring you with a mix of dominance and tenderness.

Time seemed to pause as you melted into her, the rhythm of the kiss her touch became more insistent, her fingers tightening in your hair. Breathless, you broke apart for a moment, foreheads pressed together, before diving back in, chasing the electrifying connection only her lips could ignite.

“You two are going to drive me insane,” Caitlyn muttered, her voice low and breathless before quickening her pace. Her hand found your most sensitive spot, her thumb circling your clit with deliberate, maddening precision. Each slow, measured loop sent sparks of pleasure radiating through your nude body.

Her fingers thrust into you with a steady, unrelenting rhythm, each movement calculated to push you closer to the edge of control.

You were an absolute wreck. The hair Mel had spent hours straightening was now curling at the ends, damp with sweat and heat. The makeup you had painstakingly perfected was a ruined masterpiece mascara trailing faint lines down your flushed cheeks, lipstick smeared from the messy kisses.

But none of it mattered. Not the effort, not the mess, not the way you were coming undone under Caitlyn's hands, and not the way Mel is kissing you with so much passion. All that mattered was the desperate craving they awakened in you a need for more, for everything, from the two of them.

Your hips moved at their own accord grinding down onto Cait’s fingers with a raw, and unrestrained hunger. Each thrust sends a spark through your trembling body, her fingers curling just right, finding every spot that makes your head spin. Your breathing is ragged, a string of broken moans falling from your lips as you chase the release they’re driving you toward. Every inch of you is alive, burning, as if the only thing tethering you to reality is the pleasure they give you.

Mel’s gaze was locked on your face, her sharp eyes tracking every flicker of emotion—the way your lips parted in ecstasy, the glazed, desperate look in your eyes. Her other hand hovered near your mouth, two fingers slipping between your lips. You sucked on them greedily, swirling your tongue around them as if trying to distract yourself from the overwhelming sensations below.

A scoff escaped her, though her lips curled into a knowing smirk. “Look at you,” she murmured, her tone half amusement, half hunger. “Such a pretty, fucked-out mess.” Without warning, she pulled her fingers from your mouth, eliciting a whine of protest, before gripping your chin firmly and tilting your face toward her.

Mel closed the distance, her lips claiming you once again in a kiss that was both punishing and possessive. The taste of her was intoxicating, and the press of her mouth against yours only heightened the heat pooling in your core. Caitlyn didn’t let up, her fingers curling just right inside you, as if the two of them had conspired to push you past the point of no return.

Mel’s piercing gaze never wavered, her sharp eyes locked onto your face as if she were memorizing every flicker of pleasure that crossed it. Her smirk deepened, a glint of satisfaction flashing across her features as she watched your eyes roll back, your body writhing helplessly under her scrutiny. The cool authority she exuded made every shiver coursing through you feel more vulnerable, more exposed.

Caitlyn, always precise, pressed her thumb firmly against your clit, the pressure sending jolts of electricity through your core. A desperate cry escaped your lips, hips bucking uncontrollably, chasing the ecstasy that had taken hold of your trembling body. The coiling heat deep within you grew tighter, winding with every calculated scissor of Caitlyn’s fingers inside you.

Mel, ever attentive, leaned closer, her elegant hand gliding down to meet Caitlyn’s work. Her fingers brushed over your clit in firm, deliberate circles, the contrast of their combined touches overwhelming. Each movement felt like a perfect symphony, their rhythms synchronized to push you closer to the edge.

“It’s... it’s too much…Mel, please,” you gasped, your voice trembling with desperation as you weakly tried to push their hands away. Tears pricked at the corners of your eyes, the overstimulation threatening to shatter you. But Mel wasn’t the type to grant mercy. Her dark fingers caught your chin, tilting your head until you met her gaze. The closeness of her face, the sharp scent of mint on her breath, made your knees weak.

“Move your hands, Y/N,” she said evenly, her voice laced with quiet authority. You shook your head, lips trembling, but Mel’s grip tightened, her eyes narrowing with a warning that left no room for argument.

“Do I need to repeat myself?” she asked, her tone calm but sharp as a blade. A shiver ran down your spine, your resistance crumbling under her control. With a soft whimper, you let your hands fall away, surrendering completely to them. The static haze of pleasure filled your mind as Caitlyn’s fingers curled just right, hitting spots that made you see stars.

The room in the dim, tucked away corner of the grand ballroom where the celebration was in full swing faded from your awareness. Their hands, their bodies, their presence consumed every ounce of your focus. This wasn’t just pleasure; it was a claim, a deliberate reminder of their control over you.

“I’m…oh god…I’m gonna cum,” you cried out, your voice breaking as the pressure in your core reached its peak. Caitlyn’s fingers plunged deeper, her thumb circling your clit with relentless precision. Mel’s touch remained steady, amplifying every sensation until your body gave in. Your head fell back, a desperate moan tearing from your throat as your orgasm slammed into you, leaving you trembling and undone against Caitlyn’s shoulder.

But even as your body convulsed, they didn’t relent. Caitlyn’s pace quickened, her knuckles brushing deeper, her focus unyielding. Mel’s lips ghosted over your ear, her fingers resuming their torturous circles on your overstimulated clit.

“You didn’t think we were done, did you?” Mel whispered, her voice rich with amusement. The overstimulation sent sparks racing through your limbs, making you shudder and squirm. But their determination was clear—they weren’t stopping until you were reduced to nothing more than a trembling, incoherent mess.

Just as the coil in your stomach tightened again, ready to snap, the crackle of a microphone interrupted.

“And now, Caitlyn and Mel, please join us on stage to accept your award!”

The announcement pierced the haze, pulling you back to reality like a bucket of ice water. Caitlyn stilled, her fingers still buried inside you as she let out an exasperated growl. “Perfect timing,” she muttered bitterly, withdrawing her hand with deliberate slowness that left you shuddering.

Mel chuckled softly, withdrawing her own touch as she leaned back with a smirk. “Guess we’ll have to pick this up later,” she said, her tone teasing but firm.

Caitlyn shot her a sharp glare, then turned to you, her hands already moving to fix your dress. Her movements were brisk but surprisingly gentle, her fingers lingering on your waist as she adjusted the fabric. “Hold still,” she muttered, though the intensity in her dark gaze betrayed her frustration and her jealousy.

Meanwhile, Mel smoothed a stray strand of hair from your face, her thumb brushing away the faint smear of lipstick on your jaw. “A bit messy,” she remarked with a sly smile, glancing at Caitlyn. “Though I suppose that’s your fault.”

“Enough,” Caitlyn snapped, running her hands over her dress to smooth out any creases. “We can’t walk out of here looking like we’ve been... busy.” Her sharp tone was tinged with irritation, though the flush in her cheeks betrayed something deeper.

Mel only shrugged, clearly enjoying Caitlyn’s frayed composure. “Relax, Cait. You’re the one who couldn’t wait.”

Caitlyn narrowed her eyes but said nothing, instead cupping your chin and tilting your face up to hers. “You’re mine as much as hers,” she murmured, her voice low and possessive. “Don’t forget that.”

The weight of her words hung between the three of you as Caitlyn released you and turned to the door. Mel followed, pausing to glance back with a wink before stepping into the brightly lit hallway.

Left alone for a moment, still trembling and breathless, you adjusted your dress, your mind spinning. The unfinished tension lingered, a promise hanging in the air. Whatever jealousy simmered between them now would undoubtedly ignite later, and you knew you weren’t escaping unscathed.

Ok I'm done my first post of 2025 I hope y'all enjoy as I enjoyed writing this (I didn't I haven't written smut since 2023 and I kept self doubting myself) if you wanna part 2 just let me know and I hope you have good day (and keep requesting stuff) orevwa :). Ⓒ︎ seulszn.

[novaursa]

A Lion's Folly

- Summary: A story where a lion falls for the eldest daughter of Lord Eddard Stark, you.

- Pairing: stark!reader/Jaime Lannister

- Rating: Mature 16+

- Next part: sins

- Tag(s): @sachaa-ff @oxymakestheworldgoround

The cold air bites at his face as Jaime Lannister dismounts his horse, his armor catching the pale Northern sunlight. Around him, the bustling retinue of the royal procession begins to settle, attendants scattering to prepare for the King’s arrival. Yet, as his gaze sweeps across the courtyard of Winterfell, Jaime’s mind is far from the cold, far from his duties, and even far from Cersei.

You stand by your family, a quiet and poised figure amidst the wolves. Your dark cloak, trimmed with fur, clings to your shoulders, framing the soft lines of your face. Your hair glints in the light, a rich hue reminiscent of autumn leaves, and Jaime’s breath catches in his throat. There’s something about the way you hold yourself, the proud tilt of your chin, the quiet intensity in your eyes as you watch the King approach your father.

For a man who had once thought himself incapable of wanting anything beyond what he already had, this moment feels like a betrayal of everything he believed about himself.

He shouldn’t look at you, yet he does. He shouldn’t think about you, yet he knows, already, that he will.

The evening feast is lively, as all gatherings in Winterfell tend to be. The great hall is warm with roaring fires, the scent of roasted meats and spiced wine filling the air. Jaime sits among the knights of the Kingsguard, a golden lion among his brothers in white, but his eyes stray across the room to where you sit at the high table with your family.

You laugh at something Robb whispers to you, your smile lighting up your face. It’s not a smile meant for him, but gods, how he wishes it were. He tells himself it’s a passing fancy, that you’re nothing more than a pretty distraction in a dreary northern hall. Yet, when your gaze briefly flicks his way—entirely by chance—his heart jolts. You look away almost instantly, oblivious, but it’s enough to set his blood aflame.

“You’re staring, brother.” Tyrion’s voice interrupts his thoughts, sharp and laced with amusement. The younger Lannister leans back in his chair, his mismatched eyes gleaming with mischief as he follows Jaime’s gaze. “And at the Stark girl, no less. A dangerous game, wouldn’t you say?”

Jaime tears his eyes away from you, scowling at Tyrion. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Of course you don’t,” Tyrion replies with mock innocence. “But if you did, you might consider that our dear queen wouldn’t take kindly to your… wandering attentions. Nor, I suspect, would her father. And let’s not even think about Lord Stark. I hear he has a way of parting men’s heads from their shoulders.”

Jaime’s jaw tightens. He knows Tyrion is right, of course. Whatever this strange, sudden longing is, it’s not something he can act on. Yet, as he glances back at you, he finds himself wondering what it would take to make you look at him the way you look at your brother.

Later, as the hall begins to empty and the fires burn low, Jaime finds himself wandering the courtyard. He tells himself it’s for the fresh air, but deep down, he knows better. The truth finds him soon enough when he sees you there, standing by the kennels with your direwolf pup at your side. The creature is a pale, ghostly thing, its eyes sharp and intelligent as it watches him approach.

“Ser Jaime,” you greet him politely, your voice soft but steady. There’s no fear in your tone, only curiosity. “What brings you outside? The warmth of the hall doesn’t suit you?”

He smiles, a practiced, easy expression that hides the turmoil beneath. “Perhaps I needed a break from the noise. The North has a way of making a man appreciate silence.”

You nod, stroking the wolf’s fur absentmindedly. “Winterfell is quieter than King’s Landing, I imagine. Though I’ve never been.”

The way you say it, with a hint of longing, makes him pause. “You’ve never been to the capital?”

You shake your head. “No. My father prefers to keep us here, close to home. My mother says the South isn’t meant for wolves.”

“Perhaps not,” he agrees, though he can’t help but think how wrong that is. You would shine in the South, your beauty and grace unmatched by any courtier or queen. The thought of you in the Red Keep—so near, yet so far—sends an ache through him.

You glance at him, a faint smile tugging at your lips. “Do you miss it? The South, I mean.”

He hesitates, caught off guard by the question. Does he miss the South? The warm sun, the endless intrigue, the weight of his family’s expectations? “Sometimes,” he admits. “But there are things worth appreciating in the North.”

It’s a simple statement, but the way his eyes linger on you as he says it betrays his meaning. You tilt your head slightly, studying him, but before you can respond, the direwolf lets out a low growl, breaking the moment.

Jaime chuckles, taking a cautious step back. “It seems your wolf doesn’t trust me.”

“Winter is protective,” you reply, patting the pup’s head. “But he’ll come around.”

Jaime isn’t so sure. The wolf isn’t the only one he’ll have to win over, and he knows it. Yet, as he watches you disappear back into the warmth of the castle, he can’t help but think that you might be worth the risk.

The next morning, Jaime finds himself once again in Winterfell’s training yard. The clang of swords fills the crisp northern air, accompanied by shouts from young men sparring under the watchful eyes of Jory Cassel. Jaime usually enjoys watching such displays, though they pale in comparison to his own skill with a blade. Today, however, his attention is elsewhere.

You stand on the edge of the yard, wrapped in a dark cloak to ward off the morning chill. Winter, your direwolf, sits dutifully at your side, her fur gleaming in the pale sunlight. Jaime notices the way your gloved hand absently strokes the wolf’s head as you observe your younger brothers practice with wooden swords. There’s a faint smile on your lips, one of quiet pride, and it’s enough to make his chest tighten.

For the hundredth time since his arrival, Jaime curses himself for this weakness. You are a Stark, born and bred, and your father would sooner see him dead than allow him to so much as glance your way. Yet his gaze strays to you regardless, drawn like a moth to flame.

“Are you going to keep staring, or will you finally say something?” The voice belongs to Jon Snow, who stands a few paces away with his sword in hand. His tone is quiet, but his grey eyes are sharp, a touch of irritation flickering behind them.

Jaime straightens, masking his surprise with a smirk. “Staring? I don’t know what you mean.”

Jon’s lips press into a thin line. “You’ve been looking at my sister since you arrived.”

At that, Jaime’s smirk falters. He glances toward you, but you’re still focused on the sparring match, oblivious to the conversation. Winter, however, seems to sense the tension and looks toward him, wolf's icy blue eyes meeting his.

“I think you’re mistaken,” Jaime says smoothly, though his pulse quickens. “Your sister is a lovely young lady, but I assure you, I have no improper intentions.”

Jon’s expression darkens. “You’re a Lannister. Everything about you is improper.”

The accusation stings, though Jaime hides it well. He steps closer, lowering his voice so only Jon can hear. “Careful, Snow. You might have Stark blood in your veins, but you’re still a bastard. Don’t presume to lecture me on propriety.”

Jon bristles, his grip tightening on the hilt of his sword. For a moment, Jaime wonders if the boy will strike him. Instead, Jon takes a measured breath and steps back, his gaze still burning with suspicion.

“Stay away from her,” he says simply before walking back toward the training yard. Jaime watches him go, his jaw tight.

The day drags on, and Jaime finds himself more restless than ever. Every time he catches a glimpse of you—walking with Sansa in the godswood, speaking quietly with Maester Luwin, laughing softly at something Arya said—his resolve weakens. By the time the evening feast begins, he’s resigned himself to another torturous night of stolen glances and unspoken desires.

The great hall is alive with laughter and conversation when Jaime enters, though he barely hears it. His eyes immediately seek you out, finding you seated beside your mother near the high table. You look radiant, even in the simple Stark colors, your hair falling in loose waves over your shoulders. He forces himself to look away, focusing instead on the goblet in front of him.

“Still pining, are we?” Tyrion’s voice cuts through his thoughts, low and amused. The younger Lannister has appeared beside him, a knowing smile on his face.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Jaime replies, his tone clipped.

“Oh, come now, brother,” Tyrion says, pouring himself a generous helping of wine. “You’ve been staring at her as if she’s the Maiden herself come to life. It’s quite unlike you.”

Jaime glares at him. “Drop it, Tyrion.”

“Gladly,” Tyrion says, raising his goblet in mock surrender. “But you might want to be more careful. The Starks are an observant lot, and I doubt they’ll take kindly to a Lannister coveting their eldest daughter.”

Jaime doesn’t respond, his jaw tightening as Tyrion saunters away. He risks another glance at you, only to find your brother Jon watching him from across the hall. The boy’s expression is unreadable, but the weight of his scrutiny is unmistakable.

Later that night, Jaime finds himself wandering the courtyard again. The cold air bites at his skin, yet it does little to extinguish the fire raging within him. He curses himself under his breath, berating his foolishness. How could he allow his thoughts, his eyes, and now even his heart to betray him? A Stark of all people—a wolf, untouchable and pure in her Northern pride.

He’s so lost in his turmoil that he doesn’t notice your presence until Winter’s soft growl cuts through the silence. He looks up sharply, finding you only a few feet away, the wolf standing protectively at your side. The moonlight catches in your hair, casting an almost ethereal glow around you, and Jaime feels his chest tighten.

“Ser Jaime,” you greet him, your voice soft yet steady. There’s a hint of curiosity in your tone, as if you’re surprised to see him here.

Jaime straightens, his heart stuttering at the sound of your voice. He bows slightly, forcing himself to maintain his composure. “Lady Y/N,” he replies, his voice smooth despite the turmoil within. “Out for a stroll?”

You nod, your breath forming faint clouds in the cold air. “I could ask the same of you, Ser Jaime. Though I didn’t think knights of the Kingsguard wandered alone at night.”

He chuckles lightly, the sound hollow to his own ears. “Even knights need a moment of quiet now and then,” he says, his hand tucked discreetly behind his back. “The North, for all its chill, does have its charms.”

You tilt your head slightly, studying him as Winter’s piercing gaze mirrors your own. “And what charms would those be?” you ask, your tone light, but your eyes keen.

Jaime hesitates, his smirk faltering for the briefest moment. The truth lingers on the edge of his tongue—that it’s you, your presence, the way you make the world feel brighter even in the dead of winter. But he swallows the words, masking his emotions as he always has.

“The stars, perhaps,” he says smoothly, gesturing toward the clear night sky. “King’s Landing rarely grants us such a view.”

You glance upward, and for a moment, your expression softens. “They are beautiful,” you admit, your voice quieter now. “The North feels closer to the heavens.”

Jaime watches you, his eyes tracing the curve of your profile. He doesn’t trust himself to speak, fearing that his voice will betray the yearning he’s so desperately trying to suppress.

After a moment, you glance back at him, your expression unreadable. “Goodnight, Ser Jaime,” you say simply, a polite smile gracing your lips. There’s no hesitation as you turn and begin walking back toward the castle, Winter padding silently at your side.

Jaime doesn’t move, his gaze fixed on your retreating figure. The ache in his chest grows heavier with every step you take, but he remains rooted in place, unwilling to call after you. He knows this desire is foolish—impossible, even—but gods help him, he can’t seem to let it go.

As the shadows swallow you whole, Jaime exhales slowly, the cold air burning his lungs. He turns back toward the castle, his mind a tangled mess of longing and guilt. Somewhere in the back of his mind, he hears Tyrion’s voice again, mocking him for his weakness, warning him of the consequences. And yet, for the first time in his life, Jaime finds himself wanting something he can never have, and he’s not sure he can stop.

The air inside the old tower is thick and stifling despite the chill that permeates Winterfell. Jaime paces restlessly, the sound of his boots echoing against the stone walls. His white cloak feels heavy, a constant reminder of the weight he carries—not just from his duty but from the turmoil in his heart. The torchlight casts specters across the room, but none darker than those in his thoughts.

Behind him, Cersei leans against the table, her arms crossed, her green eyes fixed on him with a mixture of irritation and suspicion. She looks as regal and dangerous as ever, her beauty as dangerous as a dagger. But tonight, it does nothing to soothe him. If anything, her presence feels suffocating.

“You’ve been different,” she says finally, her voice low and accusing. “Distant. Distracted. You barely look at me, Jaime.”

He stops pacing, turning to face her. “We’re in the North, Cersei. It’s not exactly a place for… indulgences.” His words come out clipped, and even as he says them, he knows she won’t accept them.

Cersei’s eyes narrow. “Don’t lie to me. I’ve known you all my life, Jaime. I know when your mind is elsewhere.” She steps closer, her tone softening, though the edge remains. “Is it that Stark girl? The one you keep staring at when you think no one notices?”

Jaime’s heart pounds in his chest, a flush of guilt and anger rising to his face. “Leave her out of this.”

Her laugh is cold and sharp, like the crack of ice. “Oh, how noble of you. Is that what this is, then? You’ve decided to play the gallant knight now? To pine for some Northern wolf pup who’d sooner slit your throat than look at you twice?”

“Enough, Cersei,” Jaime snaps, his voice harsher than he intended. “You don’t understand—”

“Oh, I understand perfectly,” she interrupts, stepping closer until they’re nearly face to face. Her voice drops to a venomous whisper. “You’re mine, Jaime. You’ve always been mine. And now, in this frozen wasteland, you’re letting your mind wander to some girl who wouldn’t even know what to do with you.”

He exhales sharply, taking a step back. “This isn’t about her. It’s about us. About what we’ve become.” He gestures between them. “Do you even remember who we were before all this? Before the lies, the secrets?”

Cersei’s face twists in fury. “Don’t you dare lecture me about lies. Everything I’ve done, I’ve done for us. For our family. And now you’re standing here, acting like you’re above it all.”

Jaime shakes his head, his voice dropping. “I’m tired, Cersei. Tired of living like this. Of hiding. Of lying to myself.”

For a moment, there’s silence between them, broken only by the distant howl of the wind outside. Then Cersei steps forward, her hands reaching for him, her expression softening into something almost pleading.

“We don’t have to lie, Jaime,” she murmurs, her fingers brushing against his chest. “Not here. Not now. It’s just us.”

But as her hands move to pull him closer, Jaime steps back, gently but firmly pushing her away. The rejection is immediate and cutting, and he sees the fury ignite in her eyes.

“Don’t,” he says, his voice firm. “Not tonight, Cersei.”

Her face hardens, her voice dropping to a dangerous hiss. “You’re a fool if you think you can walk away from this. From me.”

Before Jaime can respond, a faint noise catches his attention—a soft creak from above. His eyes dart to the window, and there he sees it: a boy, perched precariously on the ledge, his wide eyes staring down at them.

“Bran Stark,” Jaime mutters under his breath, realization hitting him like a blow.

Cersei follows his gaze, her expression darkening with panic. “He heard us,” she whispers, her voice frantic. “He’ll tell.”

Jaime feels his heart race, a thousand thoughts colliding in his mind. If the boy overheard their argument, their secret could unravel everything—their lives, their children, their fragile hold on power. He takes a step toward the window, his movements measured.

The boy’s gaze flicks between them, fear etched across his young face. “I didn’t see anything,” Bran stammers, his voice shaking. “I swear, I won’t tell anyone.”

Jaime’s chest tightens. He knows the boy is lying. He would run straight to his father, to the honorable Eddard Stark, and the consequences would be disastrous.

“Jaime,” Cersei hisses, her voice sharp and urgent. “You have to do something.”

He looks back at her, then at Bran. His mind feels like it’s splintering in two, but deep down, he knows what must be done. Slowly, he moves closer to the window, his expression unreadable.

“The things I do for love,” he murmurs, the words bitter on his tongue.

Before Bran can react, Jaime reaches out, his hand striking with calculated force. The boy lets out a startled cry as he loses his balance, tumbling backward out the window and into the void below.

For a moment, there’s silence. Jaime stands frozen, his heart pounding as he stares at the empty window. Cersei’s breathing is heavy behind him, her hand clutching the table for support.

“It had to be done,” she says finally, her voice shaky but resolute.

Jaime doesn’t respond. He feels hollow, the weight of his actions pressing down on him like a mountain. As he turns away from the window, he catches his reflection in the light—the face of a man who has just crossed another line he swore he never would.

The days after Bran Stark’s fall are cloaked in a heavy silence, broken only by the whispers of servants and the occasional sob echoing through Winterfell’s halls. Jaime feels the weight of it everywhere he goes. He had known the boy’s fall would ripple through the Stark family like a shockwave, but seeing the grief firsthand is something else entirely.

He avoids the godswood, where Lord Stark retreats daily, his shoulders heavy with unspoken blame. He avoids the Great Hall, where the Starks’ laughter has been replaced with quiet murmurs and somber meals. But he cannot avoid you—not when every time he catches a glimpse of you, his chest tightens with guilt.

You are a ghost of yourself now, a shadow lingering by Bran’s chambers. You rarely leave his side, seated by his bed with your mother, Lady Catelyn, as the boy lies in his endless sleep. The firelight from his room casts flickering shadows across your face, accentuating the hollowness in your eyes, the pallor of your cheeks. Jaime has never seen you like this, and it tears at something inside him.

On the third day, Jaime makes a decision he knows he shouldn’t. He tells himself it’s for appearances, to offer his condolences like any dutiful guest, but deep down, he knows it’s more selfish than that. He hopes, foolishly, that speaking to you—seeing you—might ease the gnawing guilt clawing at his chest.

He climbs the tower steps slowly, each creak of the stone beneath his boots echoing louder in his ears. When he reaches Bran’s chamber, the door is ajar, allowing him a glimpse of the scene within.

Catelyn sits closest to the bed, her face pale and drawn, her hand gripping Bran’s small, lifeless fingers. Beside her, you sit silent and still, your gaze fixed on the boy’s face. Winter and Summer curled at your feet, their fur dull in the dim light. There is something devastating about the stillness of it all, as though the grief in the room has frozen time itself.

Jaime clears his throat softly, stepping into the doorway. “Lady Stark,” he says, his voice measured, “Lady Y/N. I wanted to offer my condolences.”

Catelyn looks up abruptly, her blue eyes filled with a mixture of exhaustion and suspicion. You, however, don’t move. You don’t even glance in his direction, as if his presence isn’t worth acknowledging. It’s as though you know, and the thought sends a jolt of unease through him.

Catelyn rises slowly, her movements deliberate as she steps toward him. She doesn’t bow, doesn’t offer him the courtesy one might expect toward a knight of the Kingsguard. Instead, she crosses her arms, her voice cold as the northern winds.

“Your words are noted, Ser Jaime,” she says, her tone sharp enough to cut. “But they will not wake my son.”

Jaime swallows, keeping his composure. “I understand. I only wished to—”

“To what?” she interrupts, her voice rising slightly. “Ease your conscience? You’ve done nothing for this family but bring conflict and mistrust. My son lays in that bed, and you think your words will bring us comfort?”

Jaime doesn’t flinch, though her words land like blows. He glances past her to you, still seated by the bed, your expression blank as if you haven’t even heard him. His chest tightens further.

“I only wanted to offer my sympathies,” he says quietly. “For what it’s worth.”

“It’s worth nothing,” Catelyn says firmly, her eyes blazing. She steps closer, lowering her voice. “You are a Lannister, and I would have you far from my family’s grief. Leave this room, Ser Jaime, and don’t come back.”

Jaime hesitates for a moment, his pride and guilt warring within him. Finally, he nods, stepping back into the hallway. Before the door closes, he allows himself one last glance at you, but you don’t even look up. If anything, your stillness feels more damning than Catelyn’s fury.

He retreats to his chambers, the cold stone walls offering no solace. The memory of your grief and your mother’s anger churns in his mind, mixing with the echo of Bran’s fall. For the first time in his life, Jaime wonders if he truly is the monster people whisper about.

Tyrion finds him later, pouring himself a generous goblet of wine as he takes a seat by the fire. “You look troubled, brother,” Tyrion says, his tone light but his gaze focused. “Let me guess—our hosts aren’t quite as warm as you’d hoped?”

Jaime doesn’t respond immediately, staring into the flames. Finally, he exhales, running a hand through his hair. “I went to see the boy.”

Tyrion raises an eyebrow. “A bold choice. Let me guess—Lady Stark wasn’t particularly welcoming?”

“She threw me out,” Jaime admits, a bitter edge to his voice. “And she’s right to. What business do I have there, playing the role of the concerned guest?”

“None,” Tyrion says bluntly. “But I suspect it wasn’t Lady Stark you wanted to see.”

Jaime’s jaw tightens, his silence telling Tyrion all he needs to know. The shorter man studies him for a moment before speaking again, his voice quieter now.

“You’re not yourself, Jaime. Not here. Not around her.”

Jaime doesn’t respond, his gaze fixed on the fire. He knows Tyrion is right, just as he knows the truth of what he’s done will haunt him for the rest of his days. But the image of you by Bran’s bedside, broken and silent, refuses to leave his mind.

And for the first time in his life, Jaime Lannister feels truly powerless.

The day of departure dawns cold and gray, the kind of day that seems to stretch endlessly over the North. The royal procession is bustling with activity in the courtyard as servants load carriages, horses are saddled, and final preparations are made. Jaime Lannister stands near his mount, but his thoughts are elsewhere.

You are nowhere to be seen.

He tells himself he shouldn’t care. You have no reason to be here, no reason to bid farewell to those who brought tragedy to your family. But he had hoped—foolishly, selfishly—that he might catch a glimpse of you before they left. Even just a glance, a fleeting moment to reassure himself that you hadn’t vanished completely from his world. But the absence is palpable, heavy like the northern winds.

Instead, he watches as the Stark family fragments around him. Lord Eddard, ever the dutiful man, stands by King Robert, his expression as stony as the walls of his home. The young Stark girls, Sansa and Arya, hover nearby, each reflecting their own feelings about the journey ahead—Sansa’s excitement barely contained, Arya’s irritation unmistakable.

Robb Stark lingers at the edge of the courtyard, his eyes cold and watchful, flanked by the hulking presence of Grey Wind. His gaze catches Jaime’s for the briefest moment, and the hostility there is unmistakable. Robb knows nothing, but the tension between them has grown like frost on the castle walls.

Jaime turns away, his attention drawn to Jon Snow, who stands near the castle gates with Ghost at his side. The boy’s expression is unreadable, though there’s a certain heaviness to his movements. Tyrion, standing beside him, chats animatedly, his tone light despite the weight of the day.

Jaime moves toward them, if only to distract himself from the ache in his chest.

“Ah, brother,” Tyrion greets as Jaime approaches, his voice tinged with amusement. “Come to bid me farewell? Or perhaps you’re here to remind me not to fall off the Wall.”

Jaime smirks faintly, though it doesn’t reach his eyes. “I’m here to ensure you don’t disgrace the family name. Though I suppose that’s a futile effort.”

Tyrion laughs, clapping Jaime on the arm. “I’ll do my best to uphold our reputation. By which I mean, of course, drinking my weight in wine and pissing off the edge of the world.”

Jon Snow remains quiet, his eyes flicking between the brothers. Finally, he speaks, his tone low and wary. “I thought knights of the Kingsguard stayed close to the King.”

“I thought bastards didn’t speak unless spoken to,” Jaime retorts smoothly, though there’s no real venom in his words. The boy is too much like his father—stubborn, proud, and entirely too serious for his age.

Jon stiffens, his hand brushing against the hilt of his sword, but Tyrion interjects before the tension can escalate.

“Come now, let’s not start a duel before we even leave Winterfell,” he says lightly, though his gaze sharpens as he looks at Jaime. “We wouldn’t want the wolves feasting on a lion before we’ve even reached the capital.”

Jaime exhales, forcing himself to step back. He glances at Jon, then at Tyrion. “Be careful on the road,” he says finally, his voice softer now. “The North doesn’t take kindly to outsiders.”

Tyrion raises an eyebrow. “Neither does the Wall, I’m told. But I appreciate your concern, brother.”

Jaime nods, though his mind is already drifting elsewhere. As the final calls for departure echo through the courtyard, he finds his gaze sweeping the castle walls one last time, hoping against hope to see you there.

He doesn’t find you, but his thoughts linger on you regardless as the procession begins its journey south. The sound of hooves and wheels fades into the distance, leaving Winterfell behind. Jaime rides near the front of the column, his armor catching the occasional glint of sunlight, but his mind is far from the road ahead.

The memory of you at Bran’s bedside is seared into his mind—the grief in your eyes, the silence that cut deeper than any words. He can’t shake the feeling that you knew, somehow, that he was responsible. That you had looked through him, seen the guilt he tried so desperately to bury.

The road stretches endlessly before him, but his thoughts remain in Winterfell, lingering in the cold halls and shadowed chambers where he left a piece of himself behind.

And in the silence, he wonders if he’ll ever truly be free of it.

[all4aoki]

  ⊹ 𝓜IXED 𝓤P 𝓛EAVE 𝓜E 𝓐LONE ⠀Ꮺ ָ࣪ ۰ ִ

it takes time for people to change . . . enha x f!reader (yjw focused), poly!enha, enha8thmember

wc . . . 18.2k , warnings! my poor attempts of writing angst, YN’s a little insensitive with the concept of a poly relationship but it’s new to her so it’s fine, she also cries a lot, alcohol, daddy issues & mommy issues, familial struggles in general, her dad makes a rude comment to Won, one F bomb, rushed writing, me guessing stuff about being an idol, not proofread

DISCLAIMER! I’m not assuming anything about Jungwon’s family. They’re barely mentioned and are soley used as a way for him & reader to connect

when speaking in … korean, english, japanese

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©all4aoki, 2024

     You had always dreaded your birthday month. 

There was never a specific reason, apart from the intense emotions that would never fail to arrive with April. When you lived in New Zealand, it was because of the first term of your school year ending. When you were studying in Paris, your life had been stressful during every waking moment due to the competitive environment of young girls vying to stay in the program. The hopes of becoming a dancer at the company outweighing anything else that might have once been important. Not to mention the intense living environment. And then, as a trainee, you were so focused on evaluations and working for your spot as an idol that you almost forgot to keep track of the days. 

Long story short, you were never able to enjoy your birthday. At some point, you had concluded that the day came with so much stress and anxiety, that you would never be able to bask in the fact that those hours were supposed to be all about you, spent celebrating your existence. 

This year, though, was a completely different scenario. 

Enhypen had been spending the days working towards their second comeback, and you could already tell it would be one of significance. You were all finally establishing your style of music and to say the least, it was a genre that you thoroughly enjoyed. It was just a plus that the other members liked everything about it as well. The recording process was finally something you were beginning to truly understand, and the dancing–well, the dancing had always been easy for you. One of the only things that you felt confident in and had maintained a passion for despite the challenges you’d endured. 

When April 7th came the year of your seventeenth birthday (eighteen by Korean standards), you’d found yourself in the practice room. Once again with the routine for Border: Carnival’s title track.

Sweat was beginning to perspire on the sides of your neck and the skin beneath your tank top and sweatpants was warm. You pushed stringy pieces of your hair out of your face, huffing out a breath of air as you got into position for the second verse yet again. Of course, you’d forgotten a hair tie. 

Thankfully, though, Jay hadn’t. As you passed him to get to your spot behind Riki, he gently wrapped his arms around your shoulders, spinning you back towards him. 

“Is a low pony okay?”

The grin on your face probably made you look like an idiot as your boyfriend began sweeping your hair, which was getting maybe a bit too long, off your skin. 

“Be careful, it’s kind of knotty right now,” you said softly as Jay smoothed some of the bumps that had formed as he pulled your hair back for you. Giddiness spiraled through your heart as he secured the hair tie that he’d been beginning to keep on his wrist at all times in your hair. His hands patted your shoulders gently as he steered you back to your place in the formation just as the choreographer finished talking with Riki. 

“There you go, birthday girl.” As you glanced over your shoulder at Jay, the subtle shade of red on his ears almost made you giggle. You could tell he wanted to do more than touch your hair, but with the circumstances, you knew he wouldn’t. 

Whatever throuple had been formed between Jay, Sunghoon, and you had quickly become the light of your life. Of course, it wasn’t without its struggles, but slowly, you were all starting to fall into a pattern that worked. A way where you could show your love for them equally while they expressed their love for you as well without the other getting too jealous. It was early in your relationship with Jay still, and for that reason, the three of you had yet to share the fact that you were practically being shared with the others.

It was moments like these where you wished that it wouldn’t be like this much longer. Where you wouldn’t have to hide your affection for both of your boyfriends in front of your other loved ones. Where you could dote on them like the loving girlfriend you strived to be because they both deserved that and more.

“Let’s walk through the counts for Riki’s part one more time,” the choreographer announced. You shifted your body weight into the balls of your feet as you spread your legs apart, preparing to move through the moves slower than what should’ve been humanly possible. 

Cleaning was always the most tedious part of any routine. Especially when it came to comebacks. One more time became two became three and then every time you closed your eyes all you could think of was the minuscule details that had been instructed upon your group. 

You wondered how long it would take for you to get tired of performing this song. Every day you would have a different opinion of how you felt about the melody you were moving to. Nine times out of ten, you adored every part of your job. But there were fleeting moments where you never wanted to hear the lyrics again. 

And unfortunately, despite only being a few hours into the dance rehearsal, you’d reached that point with Drunk-Dazed. It was probably only going to last for the rest of the day, but as you exited the marking stage of cleaning the second verse, you were growing tired. Maybe that feeling of this birthday being different was something your intuition had gotten wrong because that exhaustion you’d gotten so used to was finally showing its face. 

Your knees met the hardwood floor again as you dropped down between Jungwon and Heeseung, and you could only hope that the hits you were performing were sharper than they felt. Exhaustion blooming in your muscles, you pushed yourself back to your feet, bending your legs and folding at the waist, letting the beat control your tempo and trusting your body to deliver despite being on auto-pilot. 

Snap back up. Feet out. Twist right heel. Left arm out–

Pain snapped up through your nose as Jungwon’s hand collided with your face. Instantly, your right hand shot to the throbbing exuding from your nose, but your feet continued moving. 

The music didn’t stop. The only notice you got was the choreographer yelling at you to move a step back when it came to that formation. 

Only when Jake slid into the center as the pre-chorus began did the room finally go silent. 

“Your guys’ heads are all different angles right now,” the choreographer said as she moved to stand facing the mirror so you all could see her. “Top left-hand corner. Heeseung, your head is too far back…”

You didn’t hear the rest of what she said, opting to focus on the marks of red on the back of the hand that you pulled away from your nose. It was difficult not to groan in annoyance, and when your face reflected your emotions, more discomfort came from your nose as it scrunched up. 

“YN-ie’s bleeding,” Jungwon said, voice loud enough for the choreographer to hear. As well as everyone else. Including your two boyfriends, who quickly jerked in your direction, but the staff in charge swiftly stopped them.

“Jungwon go help her. YN, your part’s next so try to make it as quick as possible.”

Your fingers found the spot beneath the nostril that was bleeding, “Okay!” Following her instructions, you hastily moved across the practice room to your bags as Jungwon grabbed some tissues before heading over to the spot you were standing in. 

One of his hands found the back of your head, fingers disrupting the position of some of your hair and causing some flyaways. “Tilt your head back… There you go,” he murmured as you did what your leader asked. “Keep pinching your nose bridge,” Jungwon added as he held some of the tissues under your nostrils.

You weren’t particularly fond of this position. Or how soft his voice was. Unsure of what to say as he tended to your injury, you cleared your throat, “You could grab a tampon from my bag. We can just stick it up my nose and call it quits.”

Jungwon scoffed out a chuckle, rearranging the tissues so a clean part continued soaking up the blood. 

“Then all the blood would go to your brain and you would move even slower than you are right now.”

You pretended to pout, “I’m not slow. And that’s probably the most inaccurate thing that I’ve heard all day.”

“Really?” Jungwon laughed at the joke in his head before he even said it. “You spend the majority of your time with Sunghoon but that’s the most inaccurate thing you’ve heard?”

Side-eyeing him, you push away the hand that was holding the tissues under your nose. “Don’t be mean,” you laugh, trying to take the soft papers from his hand. Jungwon tries to avoid your grasp.

“Let me help you,” Jungwon says as he slaps your hand away, placing the tissues back beneath your nose. “It’s your birthday after all.”

You sigh, “One birthday where I don’t have to do anything is all I’ve ever wanted, but no–” The pressure on your nose shoots up through your nerves again and you let out a small, ‘Ow’. Jungwon instantly pulls away, muttering lots of small “Sorry’s”. You smile at him gently, fighting the remaining soreness of your nose as you do so, “It’s okay, Oppa.”

“If it makes you feel better,” he says softly, “I know how you feel.”

You take a moment, swallowing harshly as your ears distantly pick up the sounds of the choreographer working with the other members. “Nobody knows exactly how you feel,” you say, trying to keep your voice low. Jungwon smiles a little at your words, and as you look at his eyes, you can see how they’re trained on your nose and the work he’s doing to stop the bleeding. 

“Okay…” he huffs, the small smile still tilting the corners of his lips up, “Can I say I’ve been in the same situation before?”

You shrug, trying not to laugh, “You can say whatever you want.”

Jungwon shoots you a look as he fixes the tissues under your nose again. It was easy to forget that Jungwon was older than you, even if it only was by two months, and that you needed to treat him with the same respect the older members expected from you too. The way he looked at you, the way he spoke to you, it was just so effortless to let sarcasm and teasing slip into your conversations, causing your words that would probably give Heeseung a heart attack if you ever said them to him. 

“My family…” Jungwon starts quietly, and you can see the way the light behind his warm eyes dims a bit. “They expected a lot from me no matter the circumstances, or the day, or whatever–” he cuts himself off, and you can tell that he’s frustrated at the fact he can’t find the right words. 

“Take your time,” you offer gently. Jungwon nods, unable to meet your eyes.

Eventually, he pulls the tissues away from your nose, and you lower your chin again. No more blood slips from your nostrils, and you figure you should probably rejoin the group. But a larger part of you wants to continue this conversation with Jungwon. Your feet stay glued to the same spot as you hear the choreographer call your guys’ names. The boy in front of you instantly drops the vulnerable look on his face, offering a smile that is clearly fake to the staff as he nods. And then you’re turning around to head back into the formation, leaving the topic back in the corner of the room.

Your eyes meet Sangmi’s, and your best friend raises her eyebrows at the dazed expression you’re sporting. All you can manage is a small shake of your head, wordlessly telling her to drop it. With the way her mouth presses into a thin line, you conclude she’s suppressing a laugh and you resist the urge to go over and smack her upside the head.

“YN-ssi,” the sharp voice of the choreographer cuts through your thoughts, and your head snaps to look over at her. She gestures for you to get into your spot and you nod once, following the directions.

“Yes, yes. Sorry.” As you begin working through your moves in the pre-chorus, the once bothersome sound of the beat served as the perfect thing to distract you from overthinking Jungwon’s words. 

Sunghoon and Jay are quick to attach themselves to your sides the moment those three and a half hours finish, Sunghoon being able to wrap his arm around your waist while Jay keeps an appropriate distance from you. 

“I’m fine, Hoon,” you mutter as your boyfriend takes hold of your chin to try and tilt your head up.

Sunghoon looks down at you and you puff out a small breath, “We need to wrap you in bubble wrap or something, I swear you’re always getting hurt.”

You push away his hand as it tries to touch your nose. 

“Stop.”

Jay chuckles as he leans down to collect your bag along with his, enjoying the sight of you playfully scolding Sunghoon. 

“Sunghoon-ah, Jungwon-ie took care of her. You touching her nose would probably make it worse.” Sunghoon’s lips turn down into a frown and you feel your heart melt a little at the cute sight. Halfheartedly, you reach up to ruffle Sunghoon’s hair, the strands damp with perspiration. 

“Thank you for being concerned, Hoon, but I really am okay.” 

The younger’s dark eyes dart over to Jay before they settle back on you as he sighs deeply, wrapping both of his arms around you in a small hug.

“Some birthday you’re having.” You laugh at his words as he presses his chin onto your shoulder.

Your line of vision turns to Jay, “Some birthday I’ll be having when I’m home, back in bed and cuddling with you both.” Jay reaches out to hold onto your arm as you begin to move away from Sunghoon, jerking towards the direction of the door. 

Jay glances around the room for a moment, and you realize that Jungwon, Sunoo, and Heeseung have already left. “Just– wait here for one more second,” Jay says quietly as you grip onto Sunghoon’s forearms that are still wrapped around you. 

“Why? People have already started leaving–” 

The majority of the lights in the room turn off as the door pushes open, a cluster of flames held by Jungwon being the only light source as the boy, along with the rest of your members approach you. When you set your eyes on the cake, their singing meeting your ears as a sort of fondness fills your heart. You don’t remember the last time someone sang to you like this on your birthday. Cake and all.

Your eyes dart around to each of their faces, taking in the way the glow of the fire makes their features shine in a golden light. The shadow of Heeseung’s lashes, the fondness of Jay’s smile, the way Jake’s eyes turn up slightly as he grins, Sunghoon’s hair falling in front of his eyes, the soft flush growing on Sunoo’s cheeks like rosebuds, and Riki’s plump lips forming over the words of the song. Sangmi’s little claps to the uneven beat and… the way Jungwon’s looking at you. 

His eyes are shining. You always thought that when people described eyes like that, it never made sense, but the gleam in his pupils proves you wrong. Something jerks in your chest, but before you can think about it for too long, your members have finished the song. All of them stare at you as they wait for you to blow out the candles. 

“Make a wish,” Jungwon whispers, your eyes flicking back to his to still see the sparkle evident. Clutching your hands together in front of your chest, you lean forward, thinking for a moment before gently blowing the flames out. The rest of the group claps as you stand up straight to smile at them, the lights in the practice room flicking back on. 

As Jungwon hands the cake off to one of the staff, Jay reaches to wrap an arm around your middle before the younger speaks up again. “What’d you wish for?” You can’t tell him. Not because of the whole saying that wishes wouldn’t come true if you said them aloud, but because you just–couldn’t. “Now why would I tell you that?” At least you could still make him laugh.

When you get back to the dorm, there’s an hour left of your birthday. And you’re exhausted. 

The group enters the small house, voices still loud despite the long day of training and preparation as you all kick off your shoes and remove your coats. Sunghoon’s following you so closely as you enter the dorm that his scent is the only thing you can smell and you turn around to look at him.

“Tired?” You nod and he repeats the action back to you. “Wanna go to bed?”

You glance down at your phone screen and the sight that meets you has a sudden rush of sadness overwhelming you. 

“I think I want to sleep alone tonight…” As you trail off, Sunghoon furrows his thick brows a little.

“Is something wrong? Thought you wanted to cuddle?”

You smile weakly, trying to play off the tightness that’s growing quickly and suddenly in your chest. “Nope. Just don’t wanna have to share with a bed-hog tonight.” Your boyfriend smiles at you, hand reaching out to rub your arm softly. 

“I don’t hog the bed, but if that’s what you want, then of course…” he pauses for a moment, hand still brushing over the skin of your bicep and sending little sensations through you. “Are you sure you’re okay?”

You’re nodding before you can even process it. “If I wasn’t I would tell you. Or Jay.”

Sunghoon might still be a little suspicious, you can’t tell, but he hides it well. His lips form a firm line as he wraps his arms around you in a weak hug, chin resting on your hair as you both still stand in the entrance of the dorm, all of the other members already spreading out throughout the home. Your mind drifts to Jay for a moment, before Sunghoon places a soft kiss on your head.

“Wait for a second, Jay’s getting your present from us.”

“Can we save it for tomorrow?” you say after a beat of silence and you regret it right away. Sunghoon pulls back a bit, expression reading concern again as you rush to cover your words. “I’m just really tired–”

“What’s wrong?” Jay approaches the two of you, a small and poorly wrapped box in his hands. 

You shake your head and force a smile for what feels like the hundredth time as you shift in Sunghoon’s arms. “Nothing. Did you guys wrap that yourselves?”

They both chuckle. “Is it that obvious?” Sunghoon asks.

“Unfortunately,” you tease them, taking the gift from Jay while uttering a small ‘Thanks’. 

Jay tilts his head to the side as your eyes stay down, refusing to meet his own. “You gonna go to bed?” A soft hum of agreement leaves your throat and Jay’s head moves in an understanding nod. Sunghoon lets go of you as you move to hug your boyfriend. 

“I’ll open this tomorrow morning with you guys. Try to make my birthday last as long as possible.”

Jay smiles before kissing you softly. The touch of his lips helps to soothe the dull feeling of pain in your heart. He pulls away, thumb running gently over your cheek as Sunghoon watches you both. 

“You’re so loved, do you know that?”

How did they see through you so effortlessly? How did they just always know? It didn’t feel fair sometimes and you have to swallow thickly to push down your tears. “I know,” you confirm quietly and Jay smiles a little again as Sunghoon kisses your cheek. 

“Good. Because we love you so much,” Jay continues and you hope your face shows him how much you truly appreciate his words. 

“I love you both too. So much.”

They both give you one more quick kiss before releasing you from their grips. You stand still for another moment, just taking in the sight of them both and letting yourself soak in their love. Sometimes, you don’t know what you did to deserve it, but you have to always promise yourself to appreciate it more than anything else you have in your life. 

“Good night.”

“Good night. Happy birthday, princess,” Sunghoon says and you smile watery at them both before turning to walk down the hallway to your room. 

As you enter the space, closing the door behind you, you don’t bother to turn the lights on. That dreaded feeling that you can only describe as heavy, and scary, weighing on you as you place the birthday present on your desk before going to sit on your bed. 

11:46 P.M. You unlock your phone slowly, going to contacts and pressing on the one you’re looking for. The line rings twice before you hear your sister pick up the call.

“HAPPY BIRTHDAY!” she cheers from the other side and you laugh at the sound of her voice. From the way her words are rough, you can tell she's just woken up. “You’re an adult now… Oh my god, you’re getting old.”

“At least I’m not 24. You’re almost halfway to thirty.” 

Your sister shushes you, “You’re lucky it’s your birthday, otherwise I wouldn’t let that slide.” You laugh. Hearing her talk takes you back to a time when you were younger. The familiarity of her accent makes you think about New Zealand, about your home, and how easy things were when you were growing up. Nostalgia and sadness are a dangerous combination, and you push them away from your heart to the best of your ability. 

“I sent you a card. I don’t think it’ll get to Korea anytime soon, but it’s on the way,” she continues and you’re thankful for the way she keeps talking. “Did you have a good day?”

“Mhm,” you hum. “It was busy, but it was good.”

“That’s good,” she says before she’s quiet for a moment. “Have mum and dad said anything?” 

That’s what you had been waiting for–the other shoe to drop. You try to not start crying instantly. 

“Um… not yet,” you offer pathetically. She kisses her teeth on the other side of the phone. Then she mutters something under her breath. You don’t bother trying to catch it, you know she’s probably insulting them. “But you know, there’s still time.”

Nine minutes.

“Don’t worry about it, Sissy.” She says as you reach up to rub at your eyes. 

“I know I shouldn’t. It just sucks.” You suck in a deep breath. “I thought… I thought that they would at least wish me a happy birthday, you know?” Your voice grows shaky, and the first tear falls. You wipe it away before it gets even halfway down your cheek. 

“I know,” your sister tries to comfort you. “They’ll come around eventually, YN. They’re shitty parents, but you’re their daughter. They can’t stay mad at you for following your dreams forever.” 

More tears escape your eyes, “I hope not.” And you really do. No matter how much you want to hate them for the way they’ve treated you since you joined I-Land, you can’t. Maybe you’re too forgiving, or maybe it’s the fact that they’re just the people who are supposed to love you no matter what. “I’m, um… I’m gonna go.”

“Okay,” your sister doesn’t protest, knowing that you probably want to be alone right now. “I love you.”

Her words make you smile a little, “I love you too.” And then you hang up the call. 

You don’t want to dwell on it, you’ve already done that enough for probably the rest of your life. You feel embarrassed as you sit on the edge of the bed, staring blankly at your phone screen, watching as the clock ticks closer to the next day and waiting for even just the smallest message from your parents. It never comes.

Time passes quickly after that. You want to throw your phone, want to smash it into pieces as that sadness from being neglected turns into anger. It was a cycle you were used to, and you still hadn’t learned how to cope with it. When Sangmi comes into your shared room, you finally get up to change out of your clothes and into your pajamas. Usually, you both would talk a little before bed, but it seems like she’s even more tired than you, because as soon as her head hits the pillows, the sound of her soft snores fills the silence. 

You try to fall asleep, tossing and turning and trying to think of anything else, but it’s no use. Your emotions are too heavy and it feels like nothing will make you feel better. Not even Jay or Sunghoon. Eventually, you peel back the covers of your bed, slipping out of your room quietly as you go to the kitchen to try and find any melatonin that you might’ve left in the cabinets. 

The dorm is dark as you slip through the hallways, everyone else is asleep or at least tucked away in their rooms as you enter the kitchen. The tile is cool on your feet as you quietly pad over to the cabinets above the stove, the different temperature helping to ground you a bit. You stand on your toes as you open the first one. Nothing. The next. Nothing. The next. Nothing–

“What’re you doing?” You let out a small yelp, jumping slightly as you startle, hand releasing the cabinet door and causing it to slam shut. Both you and Jungwon flinch at the loud slam. Neither of you speak, listening to hear if the sound woke anyone up. It’s almost eerie how quiet the dorm is. 

You clear your throat, turning around fully to face the boy standing on the other side of the kitchen island. “I couldn’t sleep,” you admit, crossing your arms over your chest. “I was gonna get some melatonin, but I couldn’t find any…”

Jungwon doesn’t say anything for a moment. “...We keep all of the medications and medicine in the bathrooms.”

“Oh,” you laugh weakly. “You’re right. I must’ve been thinking about… What we did at home.” Your bottom lip trembles at the realization. God, you missed being at home so badly. You missed being with your family so badly. “Sorry,” you mumble as you feel the water slip down your face, “Sorry, I don’t know why I keep crying.”

Jungwon is rushing around the kitchen island as you lift your hands to your face, trying to hide the way your features scrunch together as you begin crying. He pulls you into his arms, shushing you softly as his hands squeeze you tightly. Distantly, you remember something about how pressure can help calm anxiety and stress, but the front of your mind is focused on how everything hurts. 

“I don’t know what I did, Wonnie, I don’t know why they won’t talk to me,” you say through small breaths, soaking the fabric of his shirt. 

He tries to look down at your face, but you’re pressed too tightly against his body. “Who? Who isn’t talking to you?”

“My parents,” you say and you miss the flicker of heartbreak on Jungwon’s face. 

Jungwon sucks in a deep breath, “Can you breathe with me for a second?” 

“Okay,” you agree weakly. His chest rises against yours as he takes a breath and you count to four as he holds it before letting it out. You let your thoughts slip away from you as you listen to the steadiness of his heartbeat and follow along with his breathing. A few minutes pass, but your crying slowly comes to a stop. Jungwon glances down at you.

“Let’s go get you back to bed,” he says softly. As you stare blankly in front of you, eyes tracing over the wet spot your eyes have left on his t-shirt over and over, circles and circles, his hands run over your arms again. “YN?”

Your eyes flutter a little, breaking out of the way you’d been spacing out, “Yeah… yeah, okay.” Maybe Jungwon doesn’t want to let go of you as you move to walk past him, but one of his hands pathetically tries to grab at your sleeve. You let it fall. And you ignore the pang of guilt you feel for the small action. Distantly, his footsteps follow you to the bathroom he shares with Heeseung, Sunghoon, and Riki. They’re not as loud as yours and you can tell he’s wearing socks. 

Crazy, you think to yourself lamely, how can someone sleep with socks on?

He waits until you’re both inside the bathroom, door swinging shut before he flicks the light on–the blaring, white flashes through the space, making both of you flinch from how bright it is. A gentle hand on your shoulder guides you to sit on the closed toilet as Jungwon moves to one of the drawers. Trying to provide yourself some comfort, you cross your arms over your stomach, hiding your hands in the long sleeves of the crewneck. 

“Here,” Jungwon whispers, crouching down in front of you as he offers you two of the dark purple gummies. You don’t meet his eyes as you take them, popping one in your mouth at a time and chewing slowly before swallowing. It takes thirty minutes for them to work. You don’t want to stay awake for thirty more minutes.

Jungwon sits on the tile of the bathroom floor, shoulder practically brushing your knee as he folds his own up to his chest.

“Do you want to talk about it?”

You shake your head.

“Do you want me to stay?”

You nod. 

From the way he falls silent, you know he’s struggling with what to say. Whether it’s for the sake of simply breaking the silence or for trying to comfort you, you don’t care. You just want to hear his voice. Something that’s familiar, something that you can trust, and that you know will make you feel better. Because that’s always the way it’d been with Jungwon: easy. And not a lot of things felt easy anymore, so maybe you clung onto that and held him to that expectation a little too much, but you couldn’t help it. It was annoying, feeling useless in these scenarios. 

“Earlier,” Jungwon finally speaks up. Neither one of you looks at the other when he utters the small word, but you don’t have to. You know what he’s going to talk about and you don’t need to see the expression on his face as you hear the emotions in his voice. 

“What I was going to say was, I know what it’s like to have high expectations set for you. And I know how much it can destroy you when you don’t meet those expectations.” He sucks in a deep breath, but as he keeps talking, you hear the vulnerability slowly disappear. He was entering leader mode. This wasn’t the same Jungwon that was talking to you earlier, this Jungwon was trying to teach you something.

“Not for yourself, but for the people you wanted to meet those expectations for.”

You finally look at him. He’s staring at the wall and you count to ten before he blinks slowly. He looks tired and suddenly, you feel bad for having him stay with you like this. “I’m the one that’s hardest on myself. I do everything for myself.”

When Jungwon makes eye contact with you, you watch as walls begin to break down again. And you feel your own reservations fading as well.

“No, you don’t.” 

You hate that he’s right. “I’ve been trying to figure it out since I met you… You make sacrifices for everyone, YN-ie, sometimes I feel like you make more than I do. And I’m the leader.”

“I care about you guys–”

“You think that the only way you can make us like you is if you do everything for us. If you act the way you think we want you to act.”

Okay.

It was too late at night to be analyzed like this and the day was too full of emotions and Jungwon’s words just make you angry. “You don’t know what you’re talking about–”

“You know how I grew up,” he continued. “With my grandma, because my parents were always busy. I know they loved me. I know they love me, but there were and are times when I’ve felt like I was never doing enough to be worthy of their love.”

“Jungwon, seriously–” 

“I don’t want you to feel like you have to hide anything around me anymore,” he pushes, voice soft. You hate the way that it almost seems like he’s being so careful with words all of a sudden after dropping everything on you like that. “Anything from us– we love you YN and we want you to trust us…”

“It’s not that simple…” 

This conversation isn’t going to progress anywhere else, that much you can tell. The melatonin may not fully be in effect yet, but you can feel the symptoms slowly start and you welcome the drowsiness wholeheartedly. With the way Jungwon looks at you, you know he’s thinking the same thing, and your eyes stay on his face as he pushes himself up from the ground.

“I’m sorry,” he says and you wish you could tell him it’s okay. “I didn’t mean to– I didn’t mean to be so… intense.”

When he offers you a hand, you take it, and he gently pulls you into another hug. It feels nice being held like this now that the onslaught of emotions from the previous couple of hours has passed through you. 

“I just. I just wish you could see what I see.” His voice is soft, and you nod against his chest, eyelids finally drooping. “D��you want to walk?”

Your voice is strained, “No.”

You don’t have to ask him to carry you, Jungwon’s already lifting you into his arms and turning off the bathroom light before exiting back out into the hallway. The silence is welcomed by you as he walks you back to your room, his arms strong around you, and you wonder when he’d grown up so much without you noticing. You feel your mind begin to drift, eyes falling shut as he carefully pushes your room’s door open, doing his best not to wake Sangmi. 

The warm and comforting touch of your bed causes you to melt into the sheets instantly as Jungwon lays you down. Subconsciously, you feel him lift your hair off your neck, knowing you hate the feeling of it rubbing against your skin while you sleep, and sense your covers being pulled up to your chin, another thing of comfort. 

You’re practically asleep when you feel his lips ghost over your forehead, the sensation is barely there, but you still feel it. 

“Please don’t be mad at me.”

You fall unconscious before you hear him say anything else.

Things between you and Jungwon don’t change in the slightest. In fact, neither of you bother to acknowledge what had happened a few nights ago. You don’t need to see his thoughts to know that the conversation is playing on a loop in his mind as well. There's the tiniest bit of tension like he’s walking on eggshells around you and is scared to say the wrong thing. It’s clear he feels bad for everything he’d said that night too, with how he’s begun focusing more and more of his attention on you–not letting you lift a finger to do anything. You were going to just let things fizzle out on their own, hopefully working up enough courage to talk to him about things, but Jay pushes things into motion before you can process it anymore. 

“I’m worried about Jungwon.”

You look up at him from your spot on his chest, resting your chin on him as you furrow your eyebrows. “What do you mean?” Jay brushes his thumb over your cheekbone as he looks at you. Awkwardly, you laugh a little, “What?”

“He seems like he’s throwing himself into things too much,” he explains.

You purse your lips a little, eyes flicking around his face while trying to tell what he’s thinking. “Elaborate.”

Jay huffs out a laugh. “I know he’s still getting used to being our leader, and he’s doing an amazing job but I think that he’s too focused on making sure everyone else is happy–”

“And not taking care of himself,” you finish, nodding slightly as you understand where your boyfriend’s coming from. Looking back over the past week, you can’t believe that you hadn’t noticed that yourself. Your observation skills were something you were extremely proud of, and the little signs of Jungwon coming back to the dorms later than the rest of the members, politely refusing to join the group’s activities because he was busy planning better ways to lead practice, and receiving hours upon hours of talks with your manager was something you should’ve put together sooner. 

You shift slightly to lay your head back down, and Jay’s arms wrap back around your middle. “I think you’re one of the only people he’ll listen to.”

“Oppa–”

“I’m being serious. I don’t know if it’s because you guys are closer in age or what, but he connects with you really well.” You weren’t really sure either, but you knew Jay was right. “Could you please talk to him? Not for me, but for him?”

His caring for the younger boy made your heart soften. It was one of the things you loved most about Jay–how attentive he was even if he didn’t always want to show it. Turning your head a little, you smile softly and nod, causing Jay to smile as well. 

“Of course.” He kisses you gently.

There’s no point in wasting time. Partly because you don’t know when you’re going to get a day off again and because you now have a growing concern for Jungwon. Later that day, your mind drifts back to that night where you’d both sat in the bathroom together as you stand in the kitchen, filling up your water bottle as you wait for Jungwon to show his face in the dorms again. How could he ask you to not hide anything from him when he was hiding things from you? Well, not necessarily hiding, but neglecting. 

Sure, Jungwon and you still had a ways to go in terms of opening up to one another, but Jay was right in the sense that you guys connected on a level that you hadn’t with any of the others. Even Sunghoon and Jay. Cold water splashes over your hand as your water bottle overflows and instantly, you’re pulling away and mentally scolding yourself for getting distracted. 

Distantly though, you hear the familiar timber of your fellow 04-liner’s voice, followed by Jake’s accent. Leaving your water bottle on the counter, you exit the kitchen, going into the living room where they’re both standing together, huddled around Jungwon’s phone. 

“Hey,” you say and they both look up at you, their wide eyes making your heart stutter pathetically in your chest. “What’re you guys doing?”

Jungwon clears his throat, “Just… looking over schedules for tomorrow.” 

Oh, he’s definitely lying.

You raise the corners of your lips, doing your best to put on a charming smile as you move closer to them. “Jungwon-oppa are you doing anything else today?”

“Well–” 

“Perfect, can we go get coffee?” You don’t let him finish, and Jake laughs at the expression on Jungwon’s face. Jungwon’s eyes flick over to Jake and the elder immediately stifles his laugh, pressing his lips together in a way that you can tell he’s trying to hold back another bout of laughter. When Jungwon looks back at you, you can see the hesitance in his eyes. “Please? I wanted to talk to you about something,” you ask, trying to lay the pleading on thick to get him to agree. 

You can see the way your words and begging eyes begin to work on his mind, and it isn’t long before he’s nodding, muttering something about calling your manager. Jake’s arm wraps around your shoulders, pulling you into a half hug as you smirk a little in satisfaction. Halfheartedly, you squeeze your arms around Jake, causing him to let out a small grunt before you move away from him, reaching to grab Jungwon’s arm.

“Let’s go, I haven’t had any caffeine all day and I’m starting to get a headache.”

Jungwon grumbles a little as you pull him along, shouting a small goodbye to Jake as you both begin to put your shoes and coats on. “That’s a sign of addiction. You’re having withdrawals.”

“Coffee is one of the safest things you could be addicted to.”

“Well–”

“Actually–”

“Stop cutting me off,” Jungwon laughs as he finishes zipping up his jacket, grabbing his wallet as well as a bucket hat and a black mask. 

You reach for the front door, opening it as you chuckle. “Sorry, Oppa.” Jungwon shakes his head, but his smile gives it away. You know it’s hard for him to even pretend to be mad at you. Because you feel the same way. He jokes with you as you get into the car, and during the drive to the coffee shop that you both frequent together, you’re the one who does most of the talking. It’s not like you, but you don’t really mind because you can tell Jungwon’s thinking about something. 

One of the staff trails along behind you and Jungwon as you enter the café, a subtle sense of protection as you stay close to the boy making you only have to worry about this upcoming conversation. The two of you order and wait off to the side for your drinks. Catching glimpses of Jungwon while the whirring of espresso machines and chatter resound throughout the room, you feel that mixture of worry and concern. It was only recently that you had experienced the same issue of ignoring your needs for others, so you had a feeling of what Jungwon was going through. That being said, only if Jay was actually right about what he’d been seeing with the younger man. 

With the icy feeling of your cold brew in hand, you loop your arm through one of Jungwon’s as you both exit the café, opting to go on a small walk before heading back to the dorms. For a moment, you take the chance to breathe, trying to deduct what to say before he ultimately beats you to it. 

“Why did you ask me to come with you?”

You look up at him, the ice in your drink rattling against the cup with each of your steps. As convincingly as you can make it, you smile, “What? D’you not think I want to spend time with you?” He tilts his head a little, tufts of black hair peeking out from under his beanie.

“Not that, but Jake was right there too.”

“How observant of you.”

“Seriously, YN-ie.” His serious tone makes you awkwardly laugh, head turning straight forward again as you sip at your drink. Jungwon pauses for a moment before speaking up again, “Is this about what happened last week?”

You do your best to choose your words carefully. “Kind of. Figured we would have to talk about it eventually.”

Jungwon hums, “So we’re ripping off the bandaid?”

“Yes, we are,” you agree. Tightening your grip on his arm a little, you feel his phone buzz in the pocket of his coat. 

“I’m sorry if I made you uncomfortable,” Jungwon starts in a hushed voice, probably trying to keep the words between you and him and away from the prying ears of other people walking by the two of you. Thank goodness for face masks. “I think… I just think that I don’t really know how to comfort you yet.”

You shrug, “I wasn’t uncomfortable. It was weird that you knew those things so easily, that’s all.”

Jungwon chuckles, “You’re not as mysterious as you think you are.”

“I never said I was mysterious.” You laugh along with him before the sound dies away. “Having people that see me so effortlessly, that understand me so quickly, it’s not something I’m used to.”

You can tell Jungwon is listening intently to you by the way his body is ever so slightly tilted toward yours. When you glance at his eyes, it’s clear he’s thinking deeply about something, maybe trying to piece your words together. Suddenly, you’re thankful for the fresh air as you take a deep breath.

“When I was growing up, I was moving around a lot–you know… New Zealand and France and Japan and I never really got to make super strong connections,” you say, eyes traveling over the trees that line one side of the sidewalk. “And I’m thankful for all of the experiences I’ve had, but I know that I’m shy and that I don’t really open up to people, but I think it’s because I’ve always felt like an outsider wherever I went.”

Cat-like eyes are on you, and you feel a wave of comfort as you lock your irises with him. 

“Anyways, what I’m trying to say is that I’ve learned how to trust you faster than most people.”

Jungwon doesn’t say anything for a few steps and you sniffle awkwardly. “Don’t feel too special,” you push and his eyes crinkle at the corners, signaling a smile.

“I trust you too,” Jungwon says directly. His words help soothe you a bit. 

You clear your throat, “And you would tell me if you’re struggling, right?”

With the way Jungwon hesitates, you know he wouldn’t, and it’s hard for the thought to not make you a little sad.

“Maybe after I got past it,” he offers. “I know I tell you to tell me everything, but part of that is because you’re supposed to.” Your heart clenches in your chest. “I’m supposed to worry about you, take care of you. Not the other way around.”

This time, he looks away from you. “You know I care about you, Jungwon-oppa. Let me show it.” You pause before continuing, seeing how your words are affecting him and how the defensiveness in his body language slowly begins to melt away. “Talk to me.”

“Everything with this life is… a lot. I knew being an idol would be demanding but,” he pauses and you nod for him to keep going. “We haven’t even had our first comeback yet and I feel like I’m struggling more than normal.”

You squeeze his arm in a comforting manner. “Don’t be afraid to lean on us, Jungwon-oppa. We’re here to help you, you don’t need to be so strong all of the time.”

The sight of his wide eyes as he looks down at you has your heart soften in your chest. “But I’m not supposed to need your help. I was picked for this position despite my age and I have to show that I can do it–”

“I understand that your responsibilities are stressful and that you just want to help us but, Jungwon, someone needs to put you first if you’re not going to do that for yourself.”

Both of your steps have slowed, and you realize that you’re subconsciously trying to prolong this conversation before the pair of you make it back to the car. Condensation from your barely-touched drink collects on your palm, and the plastic feels slippery.

“I can be that someone for you, Junwong-oppa.”

He’s avoiding eye contact with you now. You don’t think the pink on his cheeks and ears is from the chilly air anymore. 

“Yes, our lives would’ve been different if we hadn’t decided to pursue this path–” you say, voice growing in volume as a kind of passion takes over you for him to listen to you. For Jungwon to understand. “My parents wouldn’t be so mad at me and you wouldn’t have so many responsibilities at such a young age, but we have to work through these struggles together…” 

Now, your steps have come to a halt and you pull on Jungwon’s arm for him to fully face you. “We can help each other, Oppa. Neither of us should have to fight these things on our own.” He looks hesitant, like he’s fighting between two different ideas. Desperate, you reach up, holding his cheek to get him to meet your eyes.

“Please.”

That single word is what breaks through his resistance, and you can’t help but let out a breath of relief as he slowly nods.

The date for the comeback was drawing closer at a greater speed than your debut. Which was weird. Sure, both were major milestones, but you thought that there would be more of a rush for Border: Day One. Considering the short turnaround after I-Land and all. Or maybe it was because of everything that’d been happening with your personal life. Honestly, you didn’t know anymore–much less care. 

There was nothing normal about your life, as much as you liked to pretend there was, nothing was normal. Not the fact that you had the blessing of being able to love two men at the same time, not your career, not the responsibilities you had at such a young age. But there were glimpses of a normal life at times, certain things that made you slip into the fantasy. Like Jungwon. 

When you were with each other, you’d agreed to let each other believe that you were just normal high school students. Was it healthy? Probably not, but it was a way you were helping each other cope, and that was all you could ask for with all of the pressure you both faced. There was no idol talk allowed. It was just YN and Jungwon. Even if you had to go to most places with a bodyguard. Although, those instances were becoming less and less. Because you both were getting really good at sneaking out. 

“Mmm… okay. If you were a kind of silverware, what would you be?” you ask him, taking another bite of your coconut ice cream and letting it melt on your tongue. It was becoming harder to come up with questions for each other, hence the ‘What if?’ game you’d been playing for the expanse of the night. 

The two of you continue walking along the mostly empty sidewalk. It was late at night, not many people were out and about and the moon was high in the sky, casting a silver glow over Jungwon as you look over at him.

“Knife.”

You furrow your eyebrows and laugh a little at his answer. “Why?”

“Because I’m skinny and dangerous–”

“No, no, absolutely not,” you laugh loudly, leaning into his side at his words.

There’s a look of surprise on his face, his black face mask pulled down around his chin as he eats his vanilla ice cream. “What? I thought there were no wrong answers.”

“Well, that was a wrong answer–” Jungwon cuts you off as he bumps your shoulder with his, causing you to stumble away from him a bit. You watch as he bites back a laugh. “You think you’re sooo funny.”

Jungwon takes another bite of his dessert, “I am funny.”

You pout a little, falling back into his side. “Sometimes,” you mumble, stirring your ice cream around absentmindedly, “Not when you’re making fun of me though. Or shoving me.”

“Oh, please, I barely touched you.”

“Yeah, well, you’re gonna be in trouble with Hoonie when he sees the giant bruise on my shoulder.” Jungwon lets out a scoff. When he looks over at you, you feel your heart leap at the cute smile on his face, his dimples prominent. 

“You’re being dramatic.”

You shrug, “Maybe you don’t know your own strength.”

Jungwon laughs, head falling forwards a little and some of his hair flops over his eyes. You picture yourself pushing it away, but you stop yourself. 

“I know Sunghoon-hyung’s strength. And Jay-hyung’s strength, and I wouldn’t be a match for either of them.”

Looking back down at your melting ice cream, you speak up again, “I think you might actually have a chance against Jay-oppa– Wait.” You stop walking, looking at Jungwon in surprise. 

Did he know about you and Jay?

How? You’d never told him. You weren’t planning on telling any of them for a while, considering how the relationship was still something you were getting used to. Sunghoon and Jay as well. But Jungwon just glances back at you like it’s the most casual thing in the world, not a hint of judgment in his brown eyes and you don’t know if you should be relieved or concerned.

“You know?”

Jungwon sighs softly, linking one of his arms with yours as he pulls you to start walking in the direction of the dorm again. You still gap at him, wide-eyed at how normal he seems. 

“I’ve been spending pretty much every day with you for like, two weeks. I would’ve been an idiot to not notice it.”

“And?”

He doesn’t meet your eyes, and for a moment, he almost looks sad. “And you love them. And they love you and I think that that’s the only thing that should matter.”

A wave of reassurance washes over you and suddenly, your chest feels much lighter. Your throat is less tight. “We were gonna tell you all eventually, I swear.”

Jungwon shakes his head. “It’s okay, YN-ie, really. We aren’t obligated to know everything about you.

“But you– But we aren’t supposed to have any more secrets from each other,” you counter. You aren’t exactly sure what you’re trying to do. If you actually want him to be upset at you or not. After all, the guilt of lying to your members about your relationship had been building to a point where you were ready to burst. As you thought about it, it felt nice for someone else to know. Especially because that someone was Jungwon. 

His adam's-apple bobs as he swallows another spoonful of ice cream. “We both know that’s just wishful thinking.”

You roll your eyes playfully, “Hey…”

“What I want you to know is that you deserve all of the love in the world. You’re a special girl, YN, after everything you’ve been through you should accept the love they have for you. And I support it.”

A smile grows on your lips and you rest your head on his shoulder. “Thank you, Wonnie.” And you really do mean it. Thankfully, the conversation drifts to other topics as you continue making your way back to the dorm. There’s a sense of relief in your heart. Happiness and… some kind of sadness whose source you aren’t aware of. More like it’s a source you’re not ready to confront yet. Instead, you let yourself enjoy Jungwon’s company. Listening to his laugh and the way he speaks, you notice that he sounds happier. Sounds more like himself and you let yourself believe that the time you’ve been spending with him has helped. 

Because it’s at least helped you.

The dorm is silent when you both come back, going through the steps of your sneaking-in/out routine without alerting any of the other members or manager. It’s hard though as you try not to laugh at the ridiculousness of the scenario and you find yourself not wanting to say goodnight to him. 

But you both take off your shoes and your coats and your hats and masks, and you both throw away your now empty ice cream cups. And then Jungwon says goodnight and you find it in yourself to mutter a small “Goodnight” back. 

When you make your way through the hallway and peek into your room, Sunghoon is still asleep in your bed, and Sangmi in hers. The giddy feeling in your heart only grows. Maybe Jungwon was right, you conclude as you gently shut the door behind you, heading towards your bathroom. Maybe you did deserve the love the world was finally beginning to offer you. 

You feel like you’re floating as you get ready for bed, a stupid smile on your face as you massage serums into your skin and brush your teeth hastily. The taste of coconut ice cream fights through the taste of mint and Jungwon’s face still bullies itself to the front of your mind and– Your phone buzzes in your pocket.

Confused, you let your toothbrush hang in your mouth as you reach for your phone in your back pocket. When the screen lights up, you do a double-take at the contact that reads at the bottom of the device. 

Your first instinct is to throw your phone at the wall (funny, how that’s been your go-to move for the past couple of weeks), but then, you decide against it. Anger is a powerful emotion, and you find yourself rushing out of your bathroom in a fashion that was probably a little too loud to be considered careful. The walls and other familiar surroundings of the place you now call home blur past you as you practically run to Jungwon’s room. Trying to calm yourself down, you nudge the door open and peek your head into the room. Each of the boys are in their beds, but as your eyes find Jungwon, you can tell that he’s moving around too much to truly be asleep.

“Wonnie,” you whisper harshly. Nothing. So you whisper his name again, and again. Thankfully, on the third try, he lifts his head to look over at the door. His eyebrows furrow and the corner of his mouth lifts as a sign of confusion. Doing your best to stay quiet, you push the door open enough to wave him over. You think he grumbles something as he gets out of his bed and makes his way over to you, but you don’t really care.

You hand your phone over to him in an instant.

His eyes widen as he reads the contact. Mum.

“I can’t believe you’re actually doing this.” 

You don’t look over at him as the car continues moving down the street. “Me either.”

Your parents were in South Korea. To see you. They hadn’t been in contact since you told them you were joining I-Land. 

The turnaround from that text message and how long they were actually staying in the country was so short that you barely had any time to think about what you wanted to do. Part of you hated them, but the other part was unsure if you would ever get this opportunity again. 

Desperate for advice, two nights ago you and Jungwon had sat in the living room and talked things over until only a few hours were left in the night. You had wanted to involve Sunghoon and Jay as well, but it all just happened so fast. And Jungwon was the only one who knew about your issues with your family. Of course you would fill your boyfriends in with all of the details once this dreaded dinner was over, but for now, you were grateful that Jungwon was there with you.

He had been there for you for weeks, ever since your birthday. Even though you said you would be the one to help him, he was the one who’d actually helped. You wish you could put your gratitude for him into words, but you’d never been the best at explaining things. So you were letting him come with you. 

Your head was a mess and the anxiety in your stomach was even worse. You’d felt nervous over things before, but right now, you just felt sick. A woman’s intuition was never wrong, and yours was screaming at you to ask the staff to turn the car around and take you back home where you could have dinner with your real family. But you were an emotional person, and right now, your longing for approval and the memories from your childhood were trumping that tiny voice in your head that was telling you this was a mistake as the car parks in front of the restaurant. 

You sit there for a moment, silent. 

“Do you want me to come inside with you?” You still don’t look at him. You think you would burst into tears if you did. But your parents were waiting inside and you needed to give him an answer.

“Um. Sure.”

You can feel his eyes on you, the way he’s watching your hand tremble as you reach to open the car door. 

Trying to focus on your five senses instead of the thoughts in your head, you get out of the vehicle: the feeling of the spring night air, the sound of the bustling city, the taste of the blood in your mouth from chewing on your cheek too hard, the smell of the food wafting from the open door, the sight of Jungwon. He looked so strong, so sure as he stood next to you. You wish you could take a page from his book. But that’s what set the two of you apart–his ability to push his emotions down while yours led you to do things that probably wouldn’t help you in the long run.

He looks over at you and when your eyes meet, your heart stops and you feel strangely calm for a moment. You snap out of the daze just as quickly, though. Awkwardly, you clear your throat and tilt your head towards the restaurant, signaling him to follow you. And then your feet are moving towards the entrance. 

The place would be cute if you could actually focus on the design of the interior. You’d never been to this restaurant before, which didn’t surprise you, you couldn’t even begin to guess the number of places to eat in Seoul. But your parents had recommended this place. Probably because they’d eaten here before. Probably because it made them feel more comfortable. You couldn’t feel more out of place though, even as Jungwon reaches down to hold your hand. 

The sight of them sitting at a table knocks the air right out of your lungs, and you have to remind yourself to breathe. 

You watch as they look up and as the sight of recognition takes over their features. Swallowing harshly, you force a small smile as they both grin and rush over to you. Your mum doesn’t hesitate to pull you into a hug, breaking your hold on Jungwon which makes you panic a little.

“Oh, my baby! I missed you so much!” She pulls back and you can’t help but want to believe her as you take in the sight of her face. She’s barely aged, but you’re significantly taller than her now. The smile on your face feels painful.

“Hi, mama.” Her eyes don’t change as you speak–they’re still crinkled in the corners as she takes in the sight of your face after only seeing it through screens for months. Behind you, Jungwon clears his throat, an effective form of breaking you out of your daze. 

“Oh,” you say softly, moving away from her and reaching for Jungwon. Gently ushering him towards your mother, you watch as he also forces a small smile. “This is Jungwon.”

Your mother’s face hardens at the sight of your group member. “Jungwon-ssi… Nice to meet you,” she says in broken Korean.

“You too, Mrs Aoki.” He’s so polite. The epitome of control despite the way you can see his fists clench as he greets her with a bow. Your mother nods in approval, but you can see the questions behind her eyes. The primary one being: ‘Why is he here?’ Her speculation makes anger simmer in you and to stop yourself from saying something you’d regret, you begin to move towards the table.

“Let’s sit.” The four of you take your spots at the table, drinks already sitting on the surface and you watch as one of the workers comes over to take your orders for what foods you all would want for the grill. Jungwon does a majority of the ordering, you too focused on trying to process everything that’s happening and your parents aren’t exactly fluent in the language you’d begun to use on a daily basis. 

You look over to your father, who’s already sipping on a beer which isn’t a surprise to you. Alcohol tended to put him in a better mood. Which would be especially helpful during heavy conversations just like this upcoming one. “Hi, dad.”

You may take after your mother, but you can see your eyes in his own as he makes eye contact with you, expression unchanged. Then over at Jungwon, then back at you. “What is he doing here?”

“I invited him,” you state the obvious, reaching for your water to try and swallow the lump in your throat. “Thought it might make things a little less awkward.” Jungwon looks at you as you speak, dark brown eyes reading confusion and you try to offer him what’s hopefully a comforting smile. 

“He cannot speak English. Cannot contribute to the conversation.”

“Dad–”

Your mother thankfully intervenes before your father can critique your decision any further, “Chiharu, I thought we agreed that this would be a dinner without conflict.” It was a bit surprising that she was trying to keep the peace. Clearly she had gotten used to standing up to your father during the years you’d been gone. The elder man looks over at Jungwon again before begrudgingly jerking his head in a sharp nod. You let out a breath of relief. Maybe he wasn’t happy that Jungwon was here, but at least now he wasn’t going to throw a fit about it.

Under the table, your hand scrambles to hold onto Jungwon’s, desperate for some kind of comfort despite only having been in your parent’s presence for a minimum of ten minutes. Trying to keep yourself calm, you take a deep breath and focus on the feeling of Jungwon’s larger hand surrounding your own. “Speaking of conversations, what’s the point of this sudden meet-up anyway?”

It was unsettling how that smile had yet to falter on your mother’s face.

“We were just in the country and we thought we’d reach out. It’s been so long since we’ve seen you, after all.” The frustration in your chest was so overwhelming that you thought you might start crying. How could they come to you like nothing had happened? Like nothing was wrong?

“You were just… in Korea?” You furrow your eyebrows as you look at your mum. Out of the corner of your eye, your dad finishes his drink. “You live in New Zealand. That’s like a 15-hour flight away.” Subconsciously, your grip on Jungwon’s hand tightens as your other elbow comes to rest on the table and you lean closer to them. 

The sound of your father’s glass being set on the wood is harsh. “Why can we not come see the country you seem to be so taken with?”

You fight the urge to let out a loud sigh, already on edge from the way your father had treated Jungwon. Not to mention the way they’d treated you and now were acting like nothing had happened. Starting an argument with them was pointless, especially when (as much as you hated to admit it) you’d missed them dearly and they had finally made an effort to reach out to you. 

“Never said you couldn’t, but Dad, it’s not like you to want to travel anywhere other than Napier… Since you and grandma seem to think that everywhere else is dangerous.” The look sent your way from the man is a warning, so you go quiet again as the food is finally brought to the table. Jungwon drops your hand, getting to work on turning on the grill and watching the surface as it begins to heat up. 

“How’s it going?” he whispers to you as you both help the server to place the several dishes of vegetables and meat on the table. 

Your appetite seems to be gone though. What a waste. “Not great,” you mumble back as your mum speaks up again.

“So. YN, tell us how the past few years have been treating you.”

Clenching your jaw, you force a smile, “I can’t say that it’s been easy starting a new life for myself here, but I don’t think I would’ve wanted things any other way–”

“I don’t know why you have to see this music thing through,” she sighs softly, a look of pity in her eyes. “You’re so young. You should come back to New Zealand.”

This. This is what you didn’t miss. 

How they tried to keep you so sheltered from the world and from pursuing what you truly wanted. How they only deemed what they saw fit for you as okay. How they only thought that Napier was the place for you. 

“Can’t do that mum.”

“Oh, sure you can…”

It was getting harder and harder to not speak harshly with her. Sometimes that seemed to be the only way to get things through her head–by being stern with her. It felt like she was the kid, not you sometimes. “No, I can’t. I signed a contract. I’m in a group now.”

“Then terminate the contract.”

“Mum–”

“You should listen to your mother, YN,” your father says, in clear agreement with his wife. “You know, I was reading in the news the other day–”

“Do you both understand that I have a life here now?” The tone of your voice finally has that sting that you’d been holding back, tired of them only thinking of themselves. “That I have people that I love here. And a job. And a home?” They both look at you with curious eyes as Jungwon begins cooking some of the food. 

“You’re seventeen. You know we’re just trying to do what we think is best for you and honestly, YN, you know this music thing won’t work out–”

“God, do you even know me anymore?” You say sharply. You were stupid to think that meeting with them would change anything. They were still too stuck in the past and unwilling to see your point of view to try and make any effort to understand you. “Have you bothered to see what my group has been doing? Because I hate to break it to you because this ‘music thing’ seems to be working out just fine.”

“Of course we know you, YN–” your father starts and that seems to be the final thing to force you over the edge.

“Then where was my birthday message?” Your bottom lip wobbles a little and you realize how loud your voice had gotten. Looking around at the few other customers in the restaurant, you sink back in your seat, lowering your voice to a soft, almost whisper. “My birthday,” you have to take another deep breath to keep your emotions from boiling over even more. “My birthday, and not even then can you guys acknowledge me. Why? Because you don’t like that I’m following my dreams?”

“You know that we do not approve of this decision and we thought that we’d give you another chance to consider things–”

“You don’t approve of it, or he doesn’t approve of it?” Your eyes snap over to your mother, nose crinkling a little like it usually does when you’re angry.

“Don’t speak to your mother like that,” your father states, the anger that’s so similar to yours in his own voice. You’re used to the feeling of the tears welling up in your eyes as you’re left in silence again. 

Sniffling softly, you avert your eyes from them. “I don’t want to speak to either of you again unless you actually are ready to listen to me,” you mumble. 

Poor Jungwon has been cooking the food this entire time, maybe taking a few bites now and then as he listened to you and your parents argue. You feel your heart soften as you see the sight of him looking so out of place. You’re sure you look the same. Tangling your fingers through your hair in an attempt to brush it out, you stand. 

“I’m ready to go, Oppa.”

Jungwon looks up at you and when his eyes meet yours, he nods in understanding. Without another word, he’s standing next to you. As you both begin walking away from the table, your parents don’t bother to try and call out to you, which only finalizes it for you. 

You don’t want this. You don’t want a life with them in it right now. Maybe, in a few more years from now, they’d be able to accept you and you wouldn’t be stubborn enough to completely ignore their words, but that time wasn’t now. All you knew was that everything you needed, you already had. That much was clear as you and Jungwon make it back to the car and as he holds you while you sob your heart out for the rest of the way home.

When you arrive back at the dorms you practically run to find Sunghoon and Jay to explain everything that had been happening concerning your family for the past few weeks–the missed birthday, the feeling of homesickness, the failed dinner, and they listen. Held between the two of them in Sunghoon’s bed you’ve never felt safer. And they don’t get angry at you for not telling them or for confiding in Jungwon, they simply show you the love that you need. They accept you for who you are, which is all you’ve ever wanted.

You fall asleep that night being held by them, exhausted from the emotional trainwreck that was your family.

The lights in your room are off as you do your best to put away laundry. 

The sun had barely begun to set outside, but you were still doing your best to try and get ready for bed considering you would have to be up and moving at a little after midnight for the beginning of the pre-recordings for the Drunk-Dazed comeback the next day. Tasks like these helped to calm your mind. They were repetitive and you could control what you were doing. Plus, there was something satisfying about getting things done. It made you feel good to be productive. 

It was like you always had to be moving nowadays anyway. If you sat still or didn’t have anything to keep your hands moving, you would have to start to think about things you didn’t want to think about. Like your parents. Like being an idol. Having doubts was scary and hearing those uncertainties from your parents only made things worse for you. Because now, you were beginning to second guess if this was the right path for you. If you were making a mistake. 

In the glow of a single bedside table salt lamp, you hang up the last of your sweaters. It would be warming up soon outside. You wouldn’t get to wear them as often which kind of upset you–

“Hey.” The familiar timbre of the voice makes your heart race as you look over your shoulder to the door. Jungwon’s standing at the entrance of your bedroom, clad in gray sweatpants and a crew neck with some kind of teddy bear on it. You offer him a closed-lip smile before you go back to finishing up with your laundry. 

“Hi.”

He takes that as a sign to come into the room, shuffling over to your bed before practically throwing himself onto the duvet. One of your Cinnamoroll plushies falls onto the floor and you send him a teasing warning glance. He only chuckles. 

“Pick him back up, please.” The boy on your bed groans, but he complies with your request, reaching for the plushie before setting it next to him against the pillows. 

“I see you’re in cleaning mode.”

You huff softly and close your closet. “It’s relaxing–”

“You’re crazy for saying that,” he pauses as you approach your bed. “Wanna clean my room next?”

Taking one of your pillows, you smack it over his head and he lets out a loud laugh, wrestling the pillow away from you. It’s hard to pretend to be annoyed with him when big eyes are looking up at you, making your heart soften in a way that comes with an emotion you’re too familiar with. One that you still aren’t ready to confront yet.

“You can’t call me crazy and then ask me to clean your room,” you mumble. Jungwon tilts his head a little, the corner of his mouth raising as you continue to grip the pillow. When he tugs it again, you’re falling on the bed next to him, laughing loudly. 

“What if I use my leader voice?”

“Then I’m not going to step in your room for the rest of the year.”

The smile on his face makes a rush of warmth go through you. “Don’t lie.”

“I’m not lying.”

“Jay-hyung shares that room with me so–”

You smack his chest gently, “Okay, enough.” The two of you laugh quietly again before the room falls into silence. Jungwon’s weight settles onto the bed next to you, moving gently and cautiously as if he’s afraid. Your eyes stay on the ceiling. He lies on his back, his body just inches away from your own, and you feel an almost electric sensation run through you. The heat of his being is so close, the scent of his skin filling your nose, and you can’t help but let out a slow, shaky breath, trying desperately to control your racing thoughts and emotions. 

He hesitates before speaking, “How are you doing?”

The feeling of being at a loss for words around him is one you’re not accustomed to. “You’re gonna have to be a little more specific than that, Oppa.” It’s like you can almost hear him roll his eyes. When you look over at him, one side of his mouth is lifted into a smirk before it drops down as soon as it appeared.

“With… you know your parents.”

“I feel…” You look back up at the ceiling. “Is it bad that it felt good to yell at them?”

Jungwon sucks in a small breath. “No. I didn’t understand much, but you should’ve done more than just yell at them.”

“Like what? Flip the table?” He laughs.

“No, I mean, not give the time of day to begin with.”

You know he’s probably right, but it was more complicated than that. Your freshly washed bedding is still a little warm under your body. “But you understand why I did.”

“Of course I do.” The weight of his eyes on you is a heavy one, but it’s one that you don’t reject. Just one that you chose to ignore. “I understand you more than you think.”

Your heart feels like it’s beginning to beat out of your chest as you swallow thickly. “Thank you for being there for me,” you pause to try to calm the swirling hurricane that is your mind. “I know you kind of have to be, but–”

“I don’t have to do anything for you,” he whispers. “I have to do things for the benefit of everyone else, but I did this for me. Because I wanted to.”

The air in your throat hitches. You don’t look over at him–you can’t. If you did, things would forever be different between the two of you.

Without words, you can tell Jungwon’s thoughts are locked on whether this is right or not: two friends lying in the same bed because yours are too. You’re in a committed relationship with two other men, two other of your bandmates, but the urge to turn and wrap your arms around him is overwhelming. Your knuckles are practically brushing against his as you restrain yourself, and you can feel him clenching and unclenching his hands at his sides with the effort to keep still. The feeling of him looking at you leaves with the sound of his head moving against one of your pillows. So you take the chance to glance at him, your eyes tracing his features, taking in the sight of his resting face just next to you in the low light.

As you both lie there in silence, the urge to touch him becomes nearly unbearable. Jungwon’s hand twitches slightly, and your fingers itch to reach out and touch his skin, but you hold back, knowing you shouldn’t. Knowing that this has already gone too far. You hear him let out a slow, shaky breath of his own, unaware of the way he’s trying to calm the storm of emotions and memories raging inside him. 

You can feel the heat of Jungwon’s skin so close to yours, and with every second it becomes harder and harder to resist the urge to touch him. Your eyes scan his face, taking in every feature, every soft detail, every little imperfection that you find beautiful. It feels like an eternity passes of just you both lying there, listening to each other’s breaths in the quiet of your room before Jungwon finally gives in. Slowly, his hand moves to lace his fingers with yours. 

These hesitances wouldn’t exist if there wasn’t something more than friendship between the two of you.

It’s without saying, you both understand each other. More than you ever had before.

And he stays with you as the sun completely sets, the room falling into darkness. You don’t remember falling asleep next to him, but when you wake up to your alarm later in the night, he’s nowhere to be found.

-

The process of a comeback show is just as (if not more) busy than Enhypen’s debut. Sleep is fought out of your mind by excitement, nervousness, and anticipation, and you can’t find the energy to feel tired. Dark coffee helps, buzzing your neurons back to life, but it also makes your jitters worse, and as you sit in the makeup chair, you have to sit on your hands to stop them from shaking. 

Your members move hastily around you in the process of getting ready as well, staff bustling with a variety of objects. You were thankful for the distraction of the makeup brush on your face. And for Sunghoon’s voice. It was rare for him to talk so freely, even to you, but he must’ve sensed your troubled emotions. You wondered if he would still act like this with you if he knew the things you were contemplating. 

Final touches of glitter are scattered under your eyes before you’re given the go-ahead to relax or do whatever you needed to before you were all needed for the pre-recording. So you stay with Sunghoon.

“I feel greedy,” you mumble quietly as you shuffle over to the couch he’s sitting on and falling into the space next to him. His face shows little emotion as he helps you place your legs over his lap.

“Is this your way of telling me you feel bad for eating the rest of my ice cream?”

“That wasn’t me and you know it.” One of his hands squeezes your thigh in a comforting manner when he doesn’t see you crack a smile at his words. 

“Then what’s going on?”

You purse your lips a little as you try to think of how to word this. “Do you think that I take up too much of everyone’s time?” His eyebrows furrow as you look over at him. “I mean like– sometimes I feel like people drop everything because I’m too dramatic.”

“You’re not dramatic,” Sunghoon pauses and his eyes never leave yours. The sight of his warm brown irises has your heart melting in your chest and you can’t fight the small smile that grows on your face. “Well. Maybe sometimes. But in a cute way, don’t worry I’m not put off by it.”

You laugh softly, smacking his shoulder gently. “I’m serious, Hoon. You would tell me if I was bothering you right?”

He grabs your hand and intertwines your fingers with his, bringing your hand closer to his face to kiss the back of your hand in a comforting manner. “I’m serious too. I help you because I love you. We don’t owe each other anything, it’s just… me–and Jay–taking care of you because we want to.” He kisses your hand again. “That’s it.”

Sunghoon’s words manage to soothe some of your worries, but like always, once those little voices in the back of your head start, it’s difficult to get rid of them. Trying to push some of the stress away for the sake of the comeback (and everyone else), you nod. 

“So no pick-me scandals?”

When Sunghoon smiles, his head tilts back a little and you get a clear view of his cute fangs. “I don’t know about that–”

“YN-ssi?” The staff that calls your name from the doorway has little emotion in her voice. All business. Just the way it should be. Resisting the urge to groan from your time with Sunghoon being interrupted, you quickly kiss him before getting up from the couch to look over at her. She’s focused on a clipboard in her hands, scanning the papers thoroughly and she speaks without even glancing at you as you approach her. 

“Do you know a Denise Aoki?”

Your eyebrows furrow as your steps falter. Confusion overpowers anything else you’d been feeling in the past few minutes. “Yes… that’s my mum.” But she wouldn’t be here, you think to yourself, standing awkwardly in the doorway. The staff doesn’t give you any sort of reaction as she looks up at you from her clipboard.

“There’s a woman here with her name requesting to see you.”

You aren’t sure what to say. Part of you doesn’t believe it. Why would your mum come to a comeback show for your group when she’d expressed her dislike for your career so recently? You were too busy to speak with her anyway. At least, that’s what you try to tell yourself as you stare blankly at the woman. 

You’re both silent for a moment before the staff member speaks up, “Do you want me to bring you to her? There’s only about an hour and a half left before you’re due on stage.”

Anxiety rushes through your bloodstream as you debate on what to do. Your family had been kept a secret from fans even with their insane stalking skills, so it wouldn’t be possible for one of them to pretend to be your mother. But why was she here then? It was something you needed to find out for yourself, so in all honesty, it wasn’t even a debate. You nod a little. 

“Just for a moment, if that’s allowed.”

The staff gives you a curt nod of her own before gesturing you to follow her. “I’ll stay with you while you both are visiting for your safety.”

“Thank you,” you say softly as you continue through the hallways of backstage M Countdown. You’re guided into a small meeting room that’s a bit out of the way from the dressing rooms and sure enough, through the door is your mother. She’s not sitting in one of the many chairs surrounding the table in the center of the room, instead, she’s standing there. Knowing your mum, she’d most likely been pacing, hands clutching onto her purse as she waited. You weren’t even sure how she could be back here–security and all. 

You eye her carefully as the staff steps into the room behind you, closing the door. “What’re you doing here?” It’s like she doesn’t know why she’s shown up either, with the way she opens her mouth and then closes it. An exasperated sigh leaves you, “Nothing to say. Can’t even make your own decisions without Dad.”

“YN,” she says weakly. A part of you doesn’t want to hear it, not after she didn’t bother sticking up for you against your father. For the past year, sure, but especially after that dinner. You knew you deserved better than that, but why did it feel like you were glued to your spot? “I’m here because I don’t agree with your father.” Surely you heard her wrong.

“What?”

“You were right,” she says so quietly that you could barely hear her. “At dinner. Everything you said. We don’t know who you are anymore and I hate myself for it.”

No way this was happening. Not now. You had more important things to do than worry about your non-existent relationship with your parents. Like the comeback stage that you were probably supposed to be prepping for right about now. “Don’t say that. Not now. It’s not fair.”

You watch as her face morphs into a pained expression. 

“Mum, you’ve had so many opportunities to try with me and you haven’t!” the cry slips from your mouth before you can stop it. “I’m done giving you chances!”

“YN, this is me trying!” This was too much. Too much to process on a day that was already stressful for different reasons. Too much with all of the other thoughts already spiraling in your head that had to do with the comeback, and the pre-stage nerves, and how Jungwon had looked at you the previous night. Tears prick at the corners of your eyes and you have to blink harshly to stop them from falling. “I’m here! I’m here, and I’m talking to you and I want to watch you perform–”

“Don’t,” you cut her off. “Not today.” She falls silent and it takes you a moment to realize that she’s actually listening to you. You clear your throat in an attempt to make the lump in it disappear. “If you really want to be a part of my life again, it can’t be today, I have too much– going on.” Your mum nods, a flicker of relief passing over her face. “You can start by calling me instead of showing up out of the blue.”

“Calling you. Okay, I can call you,” she whispers mostly to herself. 

“But this doesn’t mean that you’re forgiven, mum.”

The hope in her eyes dims a little and for a second, you notice how much your eyes have started to look like hers. Maybe not physically, but in the way you expressed emotions. “I know…” The two of you stand there silently for a moment, and you remember that there’s a staff member in the room with you. Not that it made anything more awkward than it already was. She sucks in a small breath before speaking up again, “Can I hug you?”

If you tried to talk, you would probably start crying, so you offer her a small nod. Her arms are around you before you can process it. God, was she this short the last time you hugged her? Your eyes water again at the familiar feeling of being held by her and you sniffle weakly. “Thank you for trying, Mama.”

“I’m sorry it took me so long to,” she says and a few tears escape your eyes. Her hands run over your back one more time and her arms tighten before she reluctantly lets you go. With watery eyes, you watch as she glances at the staff waiting by the door. “You should probably get going. I’ve wasted enough of your time.”

You shake your head as you dab at your eyes with the heel of your hand. A lame attempt to avoid ruining your makeup. It was probably already ruined anyway. 

“This wasn’t a waste of my time.” The staff member approaches you, carefully reaching out to take your arm.

“They need you for final touch-ups.”

You nod in acknowledgment and take one final look at your mum. Love you, she mouths softly and you needed to get out of that room before you broke down in tears. Thankfully, the staff is quick to lead you back out into the hallway. Thankfully, the space is mostly empty, with only a few stray workers bustling up and down the corridors, too focused on their tasks to pay attention to you. 

By the time you return to Enhypen’s green room, you’ve been able to pull yourself together in terms of crying. The sadness and frustration in your heart had morphed into a sour mood, and with everything moving around you at a fast pace, it didn’t take long for you to become overwhelmed with all of the sounds and bright lights and all of the hands that just wouldn’t stop touching you.

Someone was adjusting your mic pack, another was fixing your eye makeup, and there was another staff fluffing your hair. The feelings were just too much. Instantly, your eyes search for Sunghoon and Jay, but they’re occupied too. Sangmi’s going over the choreography with Sunoo and the lack of comfort you were receiving made your eyes tear up again. It’s not like you were searching for attention, but after everything that's happened with your family and your other relationships this month, you were beginning to regret not sharing your worries and struggles with more people. 

Then you would’ve had a better chance at being able to talk to someone about the unexpected appearance of your mum. Here. At your group’s comeback showcase. 

Jungwon. You needed Jungwon. 

The lace fabric of the tights you were wearing suddenly felt too itchy, the rings on your fingers too tight, the air in your lungs not enough to breathe. Shakily, you push the pair of hands adjusting your mic pack away from you. You didn’t want to be touched, it felt like too much. “Don’t touch me,” you snap. One of the staff’s eyes widens at your sudden comment, drawing her hands away to her sides. Guilt immediately consumes your stomach, but the apology gets caught in your throat as the other two workers remove their hands from you too. 

Next to you, you feel Jake’s eyes catch on you. “You okay, YN-ie?”

No, you were not okay. There were too many people in this room and there were too many thoughts and emotions in your head. 

“I can’t breathe,” you pant softly and Jake’s face enters your vision, his brown eyes filled with concern. His pink lips part and you can tell he’s trying to figure out what to say. 

“YN, what’s wrong?” He asks, hands moving to try and hold your shoulders to stop your trembling. In a panicked fashion, you push him away.

“Don’t touch me!” That came out louder than expected. 

At least some of the loud noises stop as you feel several pairs of eyes turn to you. Being the center of attention only increases your agitation. Fresh air was the only thing that could at least fix your anxiety right now. Then you would try to fix everything else. That was the only thought that helped as you rushed back into the hallway, the door slamming shut behind you. 

You don’t process the sound of the door opening again and footsteps rushing to follow you until there are hands on your arms. Your first instinct is to push the person away, but then your back meets the wall behind you, the front of a body being pressed against yours and surprisingly, the close contact isn’t overwhelming. 

“Close your eyes.” Jake’s grip on you is borderline painful, but the compression is surprisingly relaxing. Like there’s less room for something else to touch you, your anxieties suffocating as he holds you. Quickly, you close your eyes, knowing it’s probably to shield you from any bright lights.

One of his hands takes yours, pressing it against his chest. His heartbeat erupts against your palm, the rate a bit faster than normal, but the steadiness gives you something to focus on. Slowly, the panic and irritation you were feeling begin to seep away into a more relieved state. The air was coming into your lungs easily now. 

“Good. Good job,” he says softly, accent soothing to your ears. “Breathe with me for a second.” Jake’s lungs expand under your hand and you copy the action, sucking in a deep breath. He holds it for a moment before deliberately releasing it. You do the same, through your mouth, and the fogginess in your brain begins to dissipate. You take another breath along with him, eyes fluttering open to find his face close to yours. 

You can’t find it in yourself to care that your noses are almost brushing as the last of your stress calms. Silence grips you for another moment before you nod as a little signal that you’re okay.

“What’re you guys doing?” Jungwon. You’d never heard him this angry before. Hesitantly, you turn your head to look over at him. He’s followed by your manager. God, you hope he wasn’t getting in trouble with the way you’d reacted just moments ago. “The entire show is being held up because of you, YN!”

Jake’s hands tighten on your arms as he stands a little straighter, putting some distance between the two of you. “Jungwon–”

“I was gone for like two seconds,” you grumble, which probably wasn’t the best decision, but you didn’t feel like being scolded now. Especially since you’d just calmed down. “I needed air.”

Jungwon stops in front of you and Jake, and you watch as his eyes size up the way the older boy is holding onto you. His eyes harden a little, but he doesn’t say anything about how you’re practically pinned against the wall now. Jungwon’s eyes look back at you.

“The world doesn’t revolve around you, YN-ah.” Your eyebrows raise a little at his comment. Gently, you push Jake away by turning to face Jungwon, crossing your arms over your chest. “You can’t expect everyone to drop everything for you just because you’re feeling a little overwhelmed.”

You don’t miss the way his eyes flick over to Jake as he speaks. Your irritation returns tenfold. How could he say that after he’d practically spent this entire month helping you through things with your parents? After you’d trusted him over your own boyfriends to comfort you through such a personal problem?

“You didn’t have a problem dropping everything for me last night?”

“Okay–” Jake starts, only for Jungwon to cut him off.

“Because it’s like you need someone to think for you all of the time!–” A few staff passing by glance at the scene you’re putting on, but you don’t care. Your manager does though, considering the way he moves to stand between you and Jungwon.

“YN-ssi, you need to go back and apologize to the staff as soon as possible,” your manager says firmly. He’s disappointed in you. Your irritation lessens slightly, but you’re still fuming from Jungwon’s words. 

Swallowing harshly, you nod. “Fine.”

“Should stop acting so ungrateful too,” Jungwon murmurs and your head snaps over to him. 

“Jungwon-ssi–”

“No, Jungwon, go ahead,” you scoff, sidestepping your manager to look at the boy. There’s a flicker of something you can’t quite identify in his eyes. He sucks in a deep breath. 

“You’re going to Jake-hyung for comfort now, too?”

A rush of hurt goes through you. “What’s that supposed to mean?” Jungwon doesn’t say anything, lowering his eyes to the floor. A mix between a laugh and a scoff escapes you. “This isn’t even about me being ‘rude’ to the staff, it’s about me and Jake.”

Jungwon’s head snaps up to look at you. He opens his mouth to say something, only for your group to be called to the stage.

So. You might’ve had a problem with running away when things got to be upsetting for you. You just liked to blame it on the fact that you lived with eight other people and it was rare for you to get your much-needed alone time. As you’ve already established. Along with the fact that you had been doing better. You really had been getting everything back together and then the world just decided to turn against you again. 

Maybe you were just being dramatic. Or maybe, everything Jungwon said about you being ungrateful was right. 

Thankfully, the performances had gone smoothly. You’d apologized to the staff after the recordings had finished and they’d forgiven you easily, being understanding of how you were still new to the industry and therefore having hands constantly on you without warning. Everything had been patched up thanks to your manager. Except for your fight with Jungwon. Talking with Sunghoon and Jay about your mother’s unexpected visit had helped, they’d given you the comfort and love you had needed but you still felt bad about everything said between you and the leader of your group. You were mad at yourself for picking the fight with him in the first place and hurt by the things he’d said.

Being outside and by yourself helped, though. Jake had been able to sneak you out without your manager noticing. He’d claimed it was just because he was there and willing, but you knew it was because he felt guilty about what had happened between you and Jungwon. He was the only one who knew where you were, so he was the only person who could’ve told said leader about how you were taking a walk along the Han River. 

Said leader who was running towards you now. 

Letting out a small huff, you continue your pace, not that Jungwon had any trouble catching up to you. “I don’t want to talk to you.”

Jungwon pants softly. “YN please–”

“Did Jake make you come find me or did you ask him.” You refused to look at him. You’d forgone a jacket tonight, the late April air was more humid than usual which probably meant that it was going to rain soon. 

Your steps fall in time with his like it’s second nature. Out of pettiness, you slow your walk, only for Jungwon to copy the action. “I asked him,” Jungwon says. “Please, YN-ie, I feel horrible–”

“Did you actually mean the things you said earlier?” A couple walking their dog passes by you both. “Those comments weren’t just out of the blue, those were specific things. Like you’d already been thinking about them.” Jungwon doesn’t say anything as you look up at him. That’s all the answer you need. You scoff softly, “Right.”

“I was angry,” Jungwon says slowly like he’s choosing his words carefully. And he should. You felt like slapping him. “It was wrong of me to say those things and I’m sorry.”

The streetlamps lining the path shine brightly in the night, making your eyes water. Or maybe you were just going to start crying again. That’s all it felt like you did these days, cry. You were tired of it. 

“You were acting ungrateful today, but you had your reasons.” He takes a deep breath, “I don’t think you’re an ungrateful person and I’m sorry I didn’t see that you were upset.” That was a little better of an apology. “I just– I was jealous that Jake was the one comforting you.”

“I was looking for you,” you admit quietly. Another beat of silence as you both continue walking at a normal pace now. “You were the one I’d wanted in that moment. I was so overwhelmed and I couldn’t breathe, and I wanted you, but you weren’t there.”

Jungwon’s eyes meet yours and he lets out a small sigh when he sees how yours are watering. He reaches out, wrapping an arm around your shoulders and pulling you into his side. You let him. “I’m sorry I wasn’t there. I’ll always be there from now on. Okay?” 

You nod, pressing your cheek against the warmth of his body. “Okay.” Sniffling softly, you speak up again. “And you have no right to be jealous. We’re not dating or anything.” His body stiffens for a split second before he relaxes again. He probably doesn’t think you notice it, but you do.

“I know.” A small raindrop lands on your cheek, but you don’t bother to wipe it away. 

“The reason I was upset was because my mum showed up at the music show.” Jungwon stiffens as he looks down at you.

“That’s allowed?” 

You smile weakly, “I guess so. But I talked to her and she said that she actually wanted to try. Unlike my dad.”

“And you’re going to let her?” You nod. Another raindrop falls. Then another. It was probably going to start pouring soon, but you didn’t mind. You didn’t want to leave this moment. Just you and Jungwon and the river.

“I don’t remember the last time I saw her make such a big decision by herself. It’s always been her following my dad.” A weak chuckle leaves your lips. “I think she really means it this time.”

The sprinkle of rain increases to a drizzle and Jungwon’s arm tightens around you, like he’s trying to shield you from the water. “I’m proud of you, YN-ie. For how you’ve dealt with them and how you’re not forgiving them just like that.”

“They don’t deserve that. Not yet,” you agree. 

Jungwon hums softly. “You can always talk to me about it. You can talk to me about anything.” The rain has steadily increased now, and Jungwon pauses in his tracks, stopping you with him. “Here,” he mumbles, pulling off his jacket and draping it over your head like your hair’s not already wet. Both of you are soaked. Your sweater and his long-sleeved shirt are sopping wet with rainwater, his hair falling over his forehead in dark brown strands. 

You stand there, chest to chest with him as you look into his eyes. They’re so pretty, the dark brown color and the sharp lines that crinkle when he smiles and laughs. “Thank you,” you whisper, leaning in closer to him and wrapping your arms around him to hug him. 

“Are we… okay?” He asks, pulling back a little to look down at you, his arms still tight around your waist and you ignore the way it makes your heart race and your skin tingle. 

The corners of your lips turn up in a tiny smile, “I forgive you, Wonnie.”

When the next morning comes, you wake up alone. Which is strange, considering you fell asleep in your bed, cuddled close with Sunghoon and Jay. 

You don’t bother pondering on it for too long, though. This is the best you’ve felt waking up in a long time. A special kind of lightness flutters in your chest. One made up of love and relief. Your relationship with Sunghoon and Jay was thriving, you’d made up with Jungwon, your mum was making an effort to be back in your life, and Enhypen’s first comeback show was successful. Today was going to be a mostly free day too, only a scheduled live and the usual practices. 

Sitting up in your bed, you stretch your arms above your head, cracking your back to get the rest of the sleep out of your spine. Going through your morning routine as usual, you slip out of bed and go straight to your bathroom. Throughout your skincare, and all of the other self-care rituals you were so fond of in the mornings, the good feeling doesn’t go away and you decide to stay in your pajamas for breakfast. 

You exit your bathroom, humming softly to yourself as you hope that everyone stayed away from the cinnamon rolls you’d bought a few days ago. Or at least, that one was left for you to have–

The sight of all eight of your members sitting in the living room startles you slightly. It’s common for the nine of you to spend the majority of your time together but it wasn’t common for them to look so serious.

Furrowing your eyebrows in confusion, you enter the living room. “Everything okay?” Heeseung shoots a glare at Jungwon, who grimaces slightly. Then, the eldest motions for you to come sit down too. “You guys are acting weird–”

“Someone saw you and Jungwon last night,” Jay says sharply, his tone harsh. “Pictures are practically everywhere you look.”

Your good mood is gone instantly, all happiness draining from your body and being replaced with a kind of jitteriness that can only be described as nervousness. Were they mad? God, of course they were mad. Sunghoon and Jay– They couldn’t be happy about this. Something like this coming out so soon after a comeback? You were going to be in so much trouble. And Jungwon. The company was going to tear you both apart for this. 

Guilt gnaws at your heart as Jake offers you a weak smile. “A dating scandal, huh,” you realize lamely. 

You were so fucked.

✉️ omg a mari post? it's been like a year, my babies, I've missed you so xx sorry if this is bad, but I'm pretty happy with it. didn't intend for it to be this long, but o well. hope you guys enjoy and I love you <3

[theyhavetakenovermylife]

Hiii :D would u be willing to make a 2012 leo x fem reader where reader is very dense to leo's obvious crush on her? And everyone else knows it and tries to be his wingman but reader just doesn't get it until he spells it out for her? Ofc if u don't want to you can ignore! I love your work xoxo 💕

We Just Have To Set The Mood (Fluff)

2012!Leonardo x reader

A/N: Finally got around to do this one! I decided to have a little fun and write it from the other’s perspective, just to try something a little different. I had a hard time doing it so Leo actually spelled it out to the reader, so I decided to focus on the wingman aspect of your request. I started to get a little bit of a writer's block towards the end, but I really wanted to get this finished for you💙 Hope you’ll enjoy anyway💙

Warnings: None💙

“Is she blind or something?”, Raph whispered in utter disbelief, watching you and Leo on the couch from his and Donnie’s hiding spot behind a pillar, their eyes following the movements of the two of you as you casually talked. Well, you at least seemed casual. Leo on the other hand looked like a love lost puppy, with practically bright pink hearts for eyes and a dreamy smile smeared over his face, as he listened to you talk. “I mean, look at him. He follows her around like a lost puppy! How has she not noticed?!”

“It’s (Y/N) we’re talking about, Raph”, Donnie reminded his brother. “This is the same girl that literally has been oblivious to Leo’s crush for years now. Have you forgotten the time Leo thought he had asked her out on a date, but then she brought April along, thinking it was a casual get together?”

“Don’t remind me”, Raph mumbled. “He was a sighing mess for two weeks, and he really wanted me to ask about it”.

“Did you ask him about it?”, Donnie questioned, raising a brow muscle.

“Of course not”, Raph said, neither he nor Donnie noticing the orange clad bundle of joy, silently making his way to his brothers from behind. “If I ask about it once, he will expect me to ask about it again another day”.

“What are we talking about?”, Mikey’s voice suddenly sounded behind the two brothers, causing them to do a little jump in surprise. So much for being a ninja, and you can’t even hear your little brother casually walking up behind you.

“Leo and (Y/N)”, Donnie said, sparing Raph from the madness. “They are talking, but (Y/N) is still as oblivious as always”.

“You’re joking”, Mikey said in disbelief, peeking out from his brothers’ hiding spot, to see the scene unfolding on the couch. He could practically hear Leo’s heart beat in his chest as you spoke, his hands fiddling with themselves in an effort to keep himself calm. Damn, he was struck hard.

“How long have they been sitting there?”, Mikey asked.

“An hour or two”, Raph answered. “And nothing has happened, other than Leo looking like an absolute fool”.

“We have to do something”, Mikey said, suddenly sounding like a man on a mission, making Raph’s eyes widen in fear for what his little brother may have had in mind. Donnie on the other hand just seemed sceptical.

“There’s not much we can do”, Donnie said, placing his hands on his hips. “Leo has specifically asked us not to let (Y/N) know, and so far he doesn’t seem like he’s ready to tell her”.

“Nobody has to tell anybody anything”, Mikey smiled, already having an idea in mind. “We just have to set the mood”.

“And how are we supposed to do that?”, Raph asked, crossing his arms, seeming not the least bit convinced by Mikey’s words. “We live in a sewer, for crying out loud”.

With a smile Mikey turned to his brother in red, before wiggling his brow muscles. “Where there’s a will, there’s a way”, was all he said, before slipping out of his brothers’ hiding spot, making his way across the room, heading straight for the kitchen.

Watching in confusion and curiosity, Donnie and Raph’s eyes followed Mikey as he made his way through the living area, past you and Leo. You, only seeming lightly aware of Mikey’s presence in the room, and Leo focused on nothing else but you.

It didn’t take long before Mikey came back from the kitchen, with a pack of chocolate in his hand. With a small skip in his step, Mikey made his way towards the couch, before taking a seat next to Leo on the opposite side of you, causing the older turtle to shoot him an annoyed look. The last thing Leo wanted right now, was for his brothers to ruin what small moments he got to spend alone with you.

“So”, Mikey said, opening the pack of chocolate in his hands. “How are you two doing today?” Out of the corner of his eye, Mikey could see both Raph and Donnie facepalm. But they did not know what Mikey had planned, and therefore Mikey was comfortable in his actions.

“We’re good, Mikey”, you smiled, not noticing the daggers Leo was staring at his youngest brother. “What about you?”

“Oh, I’m good”, Mikey smiled, holding up the chocolate. “Just about to enjoy myself a treat”.

“Mikey”, Leo suddenly said, almost in a warning tone, trying to find a reason to get Mikey away from the main living area, so he could be alone with you again. “Didn’t you have that thing to do in your room?”

“What thing?”, Mikey asked, acting like he had no clue what Leo was talking about. But he knew exactly what Leo was trying to do.

“That thing you talked about earlier today”, Leo said, giving his brother a warning look.

“Oh!”, Mikey suddenly exclaimed, acting like Leo had reminded him of something. “You’re right! That thing!”

Mikey quickly got up from the couch, before springing towards his room, and the pillar Raph and Donnie still stood hiding behind. You and Leo giggled at each other, when you saw that Mikey had left his chocolate behind, however neither of you seemed to notice how the orange clad turtle still had the TV remote in his hand as he left.

“How is that going to set the mood?”, Raph whispered in a harsh voice, wondering if Mikey had lost his mind.

“Have faith in me brotha”, Mikey said, dingling the TV remote in front of his face. “I know what I’m doing”.

Frowning with confusion, Donnie and Raph watched as Mikey made his way over to the light switch, before turning it off. That caused a small startled sound from you, followed by small laughs from both you and Leo, saying something along the lines of it probably just behind his brothers pulling a prank of sorts. Much to both Raph and Donnie’s surprise, Leo suddenly seemed much less nervous, his laugh actually sounding somewhat confident.

With a big smile plastered over his face, Mikey made his way back to the pillar, giving his brothers a wink. “Now watch this”. With the TV remote in hand, Mikey pressed the on button, then sudden light from the TV filled you and Leo’s field of view, causing the two of you to jump in surprise, followed by the two of you laughing once more from your sudden shock.

“Now”, Mikey said, crossing his arms. “We just let the magic play out”.

“What magic?”, Raph asked, still not convinced.

“I think he’s talking about that magic”, Donnie said, pointing to you and Leo who had scooted closer to each other, so you had an easier time sharing the chocolate.

“I don’t believe it”, Raph mumbled, mouth open in disbelief, as you suddenly, for once looked at Leo with a hint of what he had been looking at you with.

“What is playing anyway?”, Donnie asked, honestly impressed with what he saw.

“Just that romantic series everyone is talking about”, Mikey said. “There’s a marathon tonight, so those two will have plenty of time to figure things out”.

“B- but”, Raph stammered, still not truly able to believe what was going on. “How did you know it would work? How did you know that was playing tonight?”

Mikey shrugged his shoulders with a small smile. “I got my secrets”.

“Secrets my shell”, Raph snarred. “How did you know?”

“Guys…”, Donnie said, trying to get his brothers’ attention so they could see how the scene on the couch was evolving.

“I can’t tell you all of my secrets”, Mikey said with a shrug, enjoying how it seemed to annoy Raph.

“You little-”.

“Guys!”, Donnie whispered more harshly, finally gaining the arguing turtles attention. “Look!”, he said, pointing towards you and Leo, who now sat on the couch with your arms loosely draped around each other, and your lips connected in a soft and sweet kiss.

Raph blinked at the sight, before turning to look at Mikey, who stood with a big smile. “I told you we just had to set the mood”. 

[eiralunaire]

It was past midnight when Damian and Reader ventured onto the roof of the Kent farmhouse. The night was cold, but not uncomfortable; a light breeze caressed the wheat fields that stretched out like a golden sea under the dim moonlight. Above, the sky was a tapestry of endless stars, shining with an almost hypnotizing intensity.

There was something special about this place. The quiet, the scent of nature, and the feeling of being away from the noise of the world allowed them to let their guard down, something they both rarely did. Reader, with his characteristic enthusiasm, had insisted on seeing the meteor shower that promised to light up the sky that night. And although Damian had agreed with a practical excuse about keeping her safe, he knew deep down that he had agreed because being with her made him feel… different.

It wasn’t just about the company, but the warmth her laughter brought, the way she spoke so passionately about the simplest of things, or how she somehow managed to break through the barriers he insisted on building.

When they reached the roof, Reader carefully spread out a blanket, making sure they were both comfortable. Damian, ever alert, made sure the area was safe before sitting down, though he knew there was no real danger on a quiet Kansas farm.

The ceiling was cold, but the blanket helped maintain a more comfortable contact with the surface. Reader sat cross-legged while resting his elbows on his knees and his chin on his right hand, staring up at the sky with a dreamy expression. The murmur of the wind and the chirping of crickets filled the air, creating a calm melody that accompanied his thoughts.

“It’s impressive, don’t you think?” Reader murmured, his voice barely a whisper.

Damian, sitting beside her with a stiffer posture, looked up. “It is. Although I don’t understand why you insist on calling me for these things. You could have come alone.”

Reader smiled, a smile he couldn’t see but felt in her tone as she replied, “Because the stars are more enjoyable when you have someone to share them with.”

Her words made Damian look away from her for a moment. There was something about the way she spoke, the honesty in her voice, that disarmed him.

“Have you ever wondered how big the universe is?” Reader asked suddenly, breaking the silence.

Damian frowned slightly, as if seriously considering the question. “It’s bigger than any of us could possibly comprehend. I once read that even if we traveled at the speed of light, we could never reach the edge. If there is an edge.”

Reader let out a soft laugh. “That sounds like something my brother would say, but with a lot more words and video game references.”

Damian arched an eyebrow, giving a slight smile. “It’s hard to imagine Jon talking about anything without throwing in unnecessary references. I guess you didn’t inherit that habit.”

“No, but I inherited other things, I guess.”

The conversation flowed naturally. Talking to Damian was like sliding down a calm river: there was some initial resistance, but once you started, everything moved forward effortlessly.

Reader dropped his right hand onto the blanket, not thinking too much about it, as he watched a shooting star cross the sky. Damian, absorbed in the starscape, moved his hand nonchalantly. It was a brief, accidental brush, but enough to make them both freeze.

The contact was minimal, but it felt like a spark lighting a flame. Reader felt a tingle run down his arm, a warm sensation settling in his chest. Damian, for his part, frowned slightly, as if trying to decipher the strange feeling that invaded him.

The air between them grew denser, charged with a tension that neither of them knew how to address.

Without looking, Reader turned her hand slightly, allowing her fingers to brush Damian's more intentionally. She didn't plan it; it was an impulsive act, guided more by instinct than reason.

Damian looked at her hands, debating whether to push her away or reciprocate the gesture. Finally, with a barely audible exhale, he slid his fingers between hers, interlacing them with a care that contrasted with his usual firm attitude, making Reader feel a chill and turn to look to her left so as not to see the dark-haired man's face.

The warmth of their joined hands was something unexpected, but surprisingly comforting. Reader felt her heart begin to beat strongly, while a mixture of excitement and nervousness took over her, causing her to bring her free hand to her face, to hide her blushing face.

Damian, although he tried to maintain his composure, turned to look to his right so he couldn't see her at that moment either, he couldn't help the slight blush that rose to his cheeks and ears. It was a small gesture, almost insignificant, but to him it meant much more than he was willing to admit.

“Does it bother you?” Reader asked in a whisper, breaking the silence.

Damian gently squeezed her hand, a silent answer before murmuring: “Not at all.”

Reader smiled, a small but sincere gesture, and finally lowered the hand that covered his face.

At that moment, the sky came to life. Dozens of shooting stars crossed the firmament in a magical dance of light and shadow. Reader and Damian watched in silence, marveling at the spectacle.

Damian, who rarely allowed anything to leave him speechless, had an expression of pure wonder. Reader glanced at him out of the corner of his eye, noticing the softness in his features, a contrast to his usual mask of hardness.

She smiled to herself, feeling that there was something deeply special about sharing that moment with him.

Maybe, she thought, that night wasn't just about shooting stars. Maybe, without realizing it, they had started something new, something that would shine as brightly as the starry sky above them.

[pinkskiessss]

LACY - chapter 4

Warnings: alcohol usage

Paige Bueckers x oc

A/N: Surprise!!! Posting a few chapters tonight <3

Got it! Here’s the updated version with Layla almost saying something but stopping before she can fully admit it:

I woke up to the soft sound of Layla’s breathing, her head resting on my shoulder. The warmth of her body against mine was comforting, and for a moment, I just stayed there, staring at her. Her hair was a mess, curls tumbling around her face, but she still looked so beautiful. Her lips were slightly parted, her cheeks flushed from sleep, and her eyes were closed, soft in a way that made my heart ache.

I shifted, careful not to wake her, but the movement stirred her. Layla blinked a few times, her eyes focusing slowly as she realized where she was. She froze, and her cheeks turned even redder, the color spreading down her neck. I could feel her pull away from me, almost like she was trying to distance herself, but I didn’t want her to. I didn’t want this moment to end.

Before I could say anything, I heard footsteps from the kitchen. Morgan must have woken up early, and sure enough, she appeared in the doorway, rubbing her eyes. “Oh my God, sorry, I didn’t know anyone was in here,” she said, her voice still groggy, glancing at the two of us on the couch.

Layla scrambled to her feet, her face bright red. “I—uh, I have to go,” she stammered, avoiding my gaze. She grabbed her bag and hurried toward the door, her movements fast, almost like she was trying to escape something.

I didn’t know what to say, so I just watched her go.

Later that night, I was getting ready for a night out with Morgan and some of the other girls. I’d been thinking about what happened this morning, about how Layla had acted so strange when she woke up. It wasn’t like her to be so nervous, so distant. I couldn’t help but wonder what was going on inside her head.

Layla had texted me earlier, saying she was going out with her roommate, Grace, and that they were going to Ted’s, the UConn bar. I wasn’t sure what to expect, but I figured it would be a good distraction.

I arrived at the bar with Morgan, and it didn’t take long for us to spot Layla. She was standing near the bar, dressed in a tight black dress that clung to her curves, showing off her cleavage. Her hair was down, cascading in waves around her shoulders. She looked stunning, and I couldn’t take my eyes off her. She was definitely the center of attention, and I could see why.

She caught sight of me and immediately rushed over, her steps a little unsteady. “Paigeeee, hii!” she said, practically throwing herself into my arms for a hug.

I couldn’t help but laugh, holding her steady as she swayed a little. “Are you drunk?” I asked, raising an eyebrow.

She grinned, her eyes sparkling. “Maybe a little,” she said, her voice a little too loud. “But it’s fine. I’m just having fun!”

Morgan and Grace were talking nearby, but I couldn’t stop watching Layla. There was something about her tonight—something that made my heart race. I wanted to know what was going on with her, why she’d acted so strange this morning.

“Hey, can we talk?” I asked, pulling her away from the crowd. I didn’t want to make a scene, but I needed to know what was going on.

She nodded, but her face was flushed, and she looked a little dizzy. I led her to a quieter corner near the bathrooms, trying to make sure no one could overhear us.

“Why did you run out this morning?” I asked softly, my voice full of concern. “And why are you drinking so much?”

Layla looked at me, her eyes a little unfocused. “I don’t know,” she mumbled, her words slurring slightly. “I just… I didn’t know what to do, okay? It was weird, and I didn’t want to make things awkward.”

I could see her trying to brush it off, but I wasn’t going to let her. “Layla,” I said, my voice gentle but firm. “If something’s bothering you, you can talk to me. I’m not going to judge you.”

She looked down at her feet, clearly uncomfortable. “I don’t know what I’m doing,” she admitted quietly. “I just… I don’t know what to feel, and it’s confusing.”

I reached out, taking her hand in mine, trying to comfort her. “It’s okay to be confused,” I said softly. “But if something’s bothering you, you can tell me. I’m here for you.”

Layla’s lips trembled, and for a moment, I thought she might say something more. But instead, she shook her head, her voice barely above a whisper. “Nothing’s wrong, Paige. Let’s just have fun, okay?”

Before I could say anything else, Layla stumbled into one of the bathroom stalls, and I heard her get sick. My heart sank, and I rushed to her side, knocking on the door. “Layla? Are you okay?” I called softly.

She didn’t answer right away, but when she finally opened the door, her face was pale, and she looked exhausted. I wrapped my arms around her, supporting her as she leaned against me. “You’ve had too much to drink,” I said, my voice full of concern. “Let’s get you home.”

She didn’t argue, and I quickly texted Grace to let her know I was taking Layla back to the dorm. As I helped Layla out of the bar, she leaned on me heavily, her steps slow and unsteady.

When we got to her dorm, she looked up at me with big, tired eyes. “Can I… can I lay in bed with you?” she asked, her voice soft and almost childlike.

I hesitated for a moment, unsure of how to respond. I didn’t want to make her uncomfortable, but I also didn’t want to leave her alone. “I’ll go grab your water,” I said quietly, trying to give her some space.

But she begged me, her voice almost pleading. “Please, Paige. I don’t want to be alone.”

I sighed, giving in. “Okay,” I said, sitting down beside her on the bed. “But just for a little while.”

She smiled, her eyes softening as she snuggled under the covers. “Thanks, Paige. You’re the best.”

I couldn’t help but smile back, but there was a flutter in my chest as I realized how much I cared for her. I didn’t want to push her, but I couldn’t ignore the feelings that were starting to grow inside me.

As we lay there, the quiet of the room wrapping around us, I couldn’t help but wonder what was going on in her mind. I wanted to ask her about everything—about how she felt, about what she was going through. But I didn’t want to pressure her.

That’s when she spoke, her voice soft and almost shy. “Paige… can I ask you something?”

“Of course,” I replied, turning my head to face her.

“How did you know you liked girls?” she asked, her voice barely above a whisper.

I froze for a moment, surprised by the question. I hadn’t expected her to ask me that. But as I thought about it, I realized it was a good question. It wasn’t something I’d ever really talked about with anyone.

“I think I always knew,” I said slowly, trying to find the right words. “I remember having crushes on girls when I was younger, but I didn’t really understand what that meant at the time. It was confusing. But then, when I was older, I realized that it wasn’t just a phase or something I could ignore. It’s just who I am.”

Layla looked down at her hands, her fingers fiddling with the edge of the blanket. “But how did you… know for sure?”

I thought about it for a moment. “I think it’s just something that clicks. You know when you’re with someone and it feels right, like you can’t ignore it anymore? That’s when I knew.”

Layla was quiet for a while, processing what I said. “I think umm… I think…” she started, her voice trailing off. I could see the struggle in her eyes, like she was about to say something huge, but she couldn’t quite bring herself to do it.

I reached over and gently squeezed her hand. “Layla,” I said softly, “don’t say it right now. You’re drunk, and I don’t want you to feel like you have to say something you’re not sure about.”

She looked at me, her eyes wide, and I could see the hesitation in her gaze. She almost said something, but then she just nodded, her lips trembling slightly. “Okay,” she whispered, sinking into the bed.

I smiled softly, brushing a stray strand of hair from her face. “It’s okay. You don’t have to have all the answers right now. Just take your time.”

She nodded again, her eyes fluttering closed as she drifted off to sleep.

As I sat there, holding her hand, I couldn’t help but think about everything that had happened. Layla might actually have feelings for me. I could see it in the way she looked at me, in the way she touched me. But I also remembered how hard it was for me when I first realized I was gay, how confusing it had been. I sympathized with her, with the uncertainty she was feeling.

I didn’t want to rush her, and I didn’t want to push her into anything she wasn’t ready for. But I also knew that I cared about her more than I’d ever expected.

I leaned down and kissed her forehead, whispering, “Goodnight, Layla.”

And as I left the room, I made sure to leave a bottle of water and a note on her desk.

[alilobsessive]

Hi!! Crypted reader has been in my head for days could we please see more of them

But of course! Admittedly, I don’t have much of an idea for a plot. So have some Justice Leaguers meeting Reader!

Superman had actually first met Reader as Clark Kent long before the Justice League was even a blip in the eyes of the trinity. You were a small child back then, hyperactive to the point it was maddening to most people, with an active imagination to boot. The small child had been talking to him nonstop, spouting out whatever came from your tiny mind. There wasn’t anything strange about what you were saying, until suddenly you said “Hey check out what I can do!” And Bruce Wayne, who was standing right behind him with a small smile as he listened to he child’s rambling, face contorted into that of horror. “Please we talked about this” he practically bagged, Clark mentally prepared himself for a child to innocently do something inappropriate. But instead what he got was a little unsettling. Something, shifted in the kids eyes, then stance, the child was clearly human, just mimicked something that wasn’t. They were damn good at it too, the kid didn’t even make a sound as they got on all fours and dashed off. “Not again!” Bruce yelped, running after the child.

Diana on the other hand didn’t even know Reader was Bruce's child when they first met. She was giving a museum tour and Reader was in it, the 11 year old was strange. Not strange in the way typical strange kids are, strange in every bone in her body was screaming this kid wasn’t human. They didn’t seem to be a threat, they never appeared to be at first. She kept a close eye on the child, watching them slink around with the rest of the group, tilting their head at odd angles as they looked at the artifacts on display. Whatever they are, they're bad at pretending they're human. It wasn’t uncommon for supernatural creatures to take the forms of humans for whatever reason, the form of a young child was no exception. Even after the child left, having not revealed their true form Diana stood on high alert. Even when they didn’t come back to steal, she was on edge for weeks.

Zatanna met Reader briefly, it was simple, do a magic sensing test for Batman. Just a simple favor, she was expecting a villain that he couldn’t tell if was using magic or just highly skilled. It happened from time to time. But instead it was a child, his child, and ya she got it. Kid had the exact same crypted tendencies as their Father. Admittedly if she didn’t know Batman better she would think he was a magical entity. Her dad made sure to snip that in the bud that’s for sure! But after a few quick tests it was confirmed that no there just like that. Yes Bruce, she did triple and quadruple checked each test to make sure they weren’t possessed, part magical creature, or any other magic related shenanigans going on with them. Kids just weird like their dear ol’ dad.

Flash had the shortest interaction with Reader, it only lasted a few minutes. It was during an invasion, everyone was fighting, “FLASH! CATCH” Nightwing screamed. He quickly turned to the other man and quickly caught what was thrown at him. Well more like who, a teenager started up at him unblinking. “Shit- okay- evacuation time-“ he said only to be hissed at and the teenager to start scratching his face. He ran anyway, wouldn’t be the first time, or the last that he’s attacked by a reluctant to leave civilian for one reason or another. Once they were a safe distance away Flash stopped and put them with the rest of the rescued civilians. Said civilian leaped out of his arms and hissed at him then ran into the crowd on all fours. Before he could even begin to understand what just happened, he had to run back to the fray. The strange incident completely out of his mind.

Booster Gold was just minding his own damn business in the watchtower one day, when Reader took one look at him and went “I’m gonna mess with that”. It started simple, moving objects from one spot to another when he wasn’t looking, pushing around furniture and knocking glasses off of tables. He felt eyes burning into his back with every step he took. Then Reader started letting him catch glimpses of them, of their shadow or of them turning a corner only to not be there. No one believed him when Booster tried to tell them about the strange spirit following him. Which is bullshit! They literally work with an actual goddamn ghost! The only one who did believe them was Blue Beetle, the second not the third. After almost a week of this Reader started to kind of feel bad for terrorizing this man. It was clearly making him anxious and a little paranoid, so they officially revealed themselves not just to him but to the rest of the justice league. Which was a shock to Batman because he did not know Reader was on the ship! How did they even get there??

[billiesbossanovas]

Letters

High school au

Warnings: angst angst angst, death, su!cide mentions, self harm mentions, relapse mentions. Please read at your discretion.

If anyone reading this, or reading any of my work, or just so happens to even read just the warnings, know that I’m always open for you to talk to me if needed, please take care of yourself and know that you are loved and cared for. <3

This fic is kinda me projecting 🙂‍↕️ (extreme exaggeration for some parts)

Natasha Romanoff x gn!reader

Not proof read

—

You, y/n l/n, are part of the popular group in school, just from being long time friends with Tony stark, he was in the football team, mvp every game, best player in the whole school, you grew up with him, went through all levels or school with him, though you are the very contrast of him, nerdy, you would rather be reading than running around getting all sweaty and dirty.

One of his friends had caught your eye almost immediately, Natasha romanoff, a charming, tall redhead, at first she had struck you as kind, she smiled at you in the halls, even stood and had a conversation with you one time, that soon fizzled out, you had no idea why, she just started getting rude, giving you off handed comments or just flat out ignoring you. But you shrugged it off, it wasn’t anything major, just enough to make you slightly uncomfortable around her.

You sat on the bleachers watching as Tony was practicing with his team, him being your ride home meant waiting.. and waiting.. and waiting. It was annoying but also got you out of the house for longer. It was hard at home, your dad being ill and your mom being.. well your mom, so being out of the house was the best thing for your mental state, Tony knew that, he was the only person who knew how much you’d been struggling, how much you hated being at home. Hated being anywhere. So he offered to take you to school and drop you back at home after practices. He didn’t know everything, not about your plans or how you’d relapsed a week ago and feel back into your self harm as a coping mechanism, but some things are best kept secret, even from your best friend, especially from your best friend.

Natasha came and sat next to you, knocking you back into reality and huffed, she rested her chin in her hands and looked over at you. “What are you writing?” She snorts and laughs as you scramble to close your journal. “You’re such a dork” she grumbles before leaning back and watching as the team practices. You shove your journal into your bag and move it onto your other side, Natasha watches it and scoffs “I’m not gunna look in your precious journal” it’s said in a mocking way, but you know she means it, she’s not invasive, never has been.

Tony runs over to the two of you and gives a confused look before tapping you in the leg with his foot. “Ready to go?” He’s out of breathe and extremely sweaty to the point his hair was sticking to his forehead.

“Yeah- yeah let’s go. See you later Natasha” you stand up and put your bag on your back, she gives you half a wave and waits for Clint, he runs over and sits next to her as you and Tony walk away.

“So.. you doing okay?” He asks as the two of you get to the parking lot, you hum in response as he slings his football boots and jersey into the back seat of his car. “I’m here for you, you know that right?” He looks at you over the car, you give him a tight smile and sigh.

“I know.” Is all you give him, he stares at you, its intimidating like he’s trying to get information out of you with a stare, he lets it go after a second and climbs into the drivers seat. “Hey do you know my Natasha suddenly hates me?” You get into the car and out your seatbelt on, Tony takes a second to answer and looks over at you.

He opens his mouth and goes to speak a few times before smirking. “Tasha probably just likes you” he starts driving, he’s going the long way home, he always does. You just nod and think about it, if she liked you why would she be mean, acting as if it was a chore to speak to you without insulting you.

“Nah. I don’t think so.” You respond, the rest of the ride is quiet, the only sound being the hum of the radio, Tony focused on the road and you just watching as the houses and trees blur into one big mess, your demeanour shifts as soon as the corner turns onto your street.

Tony notices the shift in your energy, and the miserable look on your face. “You could sleep over at my house, my dad wouldn’t care.” He offers, trying to ease you a little, the offers nice, it would be great to even have a single night away from home, but you couldn’t, it wouldn’t be fair. You need to do chores, make sure everything is okay in the house.

“I-I’m okay, I’ll be fine.” He pats you on the shoulder, and watches as you drag yourself into the house. The moment you step in, you hear your parents arguing, you don’t what it’s over, but they’re loud and now only really shouting insults at each other, it had been going for a while now by the sounds of it, all you can do is sigh before walking up to your bedroom.

Dinner is silent, your dad eating what he can manage from his plate and your mom glaring at you while you eat. You look up at her, she scoffs and takes her plate to the kitchen sink. “You know you could help out once in a while.” She starts, aiming the statement at you. “I’m sick of doing everything around here. You could at least wash the dishes- or do the laundry.” You Finnish your food and take the plate over to where she is. “But even then you’d probably fuck it up- why don’t you just go study- or talk about me to your friends. Seeing as that’s all you do.” She takes your plate from you and starts washing it, you turn around to walk away from her. “I never get any help in this house.” She gritts out through her teeth, making a pang of guilt filter through your body as you make your way upstairs to your bedroom.

A sigh of relief leaves your mouth as you close your bedroom door, you pick up your bag and take out your journal, sitting at your desk to finish writing your letters, the one addressed to you parents being the first one you finished, you had one for everyone you were close with, just for if anything where to happen to you, the one you struggled with the most was Tony’s. What would you even write to him, all you could write was ‘I’m sorry’ you’d work on it more later. Flicking forward a few pages you write a name down to start a new letter.

Natasha, you also didn’t know what to say to her, how would you write a letter for someone to read after your death, when they don’t like you, and you’re basically in love with them? You sighed and layed your head in your desk onto of your journal trying to think, you closed your eyes, maybe it would help. In the end you fell asleep ontop of your notebook, being woke up to your mother pounding on your bedroom door announcing Tony was here, and you needed to get of your ass and go to school.

Over the course of the next week, everything had gotten worse, Natasha constantly ribbing on you for writing all the time, To y started slowly pulling away as things with pepper started to get more serious, you were left to deal with your thoughts, and your parents on your own. Your dad had gotten worse, he’d been admitted into hospital which made home life basically hell as your mother raved and screamed about how useless you were, how you could do so much more with your life’s yet you spent it locked away in your room. While you agreed on the latter, you could be doing normal teenage things, going to parties, getting into a relationship. But you spent your time locking yourself in your bedroom, crying yourself to sleep after making yourself bleed, because that’s what you deserved, to feel pain. You were a shitty friend and child, so why not make yourself suffer even more.

The day your mother burst into your room and shouted “you’re so fucking useless, you can’t even wash the dishes correctly. If you’re weren’t here my life would be so much easier.” There was more to the rant, but that’s the part that stuck to you, that was your breaking point. When night time rolled around you finished the letters off, and packed them insulate into envelopes with people’s names on them. They’re out into your bag, and you leave the house at four in the morning, leaving the letter for your parents on your desk ready for whenever they decide they want to speak to you.

It’s cold out, the only thing keeping you even remotely warm being a thin zip up jacket, the walk to Tony’s house is weirdly relaxing, crickets chirping, wind rustling through the leaves, making you wonder if you actually wanted to leave this all behind, before you knew it you were at Tony’s door posting the letter. ‘This is the right decision’ was all you could tell yourself, justifying your plan.

Now it was Natasha’s place, you walk up to her house, to your suprise she’s sat on the door step with a cigarette in her hand as she takes a drag. “Oh I didn’t know you smoked.” You mutter out as you stand at the edge of her porch.

Natasha laughed and blew out smoke, she looked at you confused then patted the spot next to her, you gladly took it and sat down. “I didn’t know dorks snuck out at night” she smirks at you and flicks her cigarette out onto the grass. “What are you doing here anyway?” She asks with a sigh leaning back and looking off at the still dark, early morning sky, it’s clear, the stars are out it’s beautiful.

“The night is so calm..” you mumble softly as you look at her, “beautiful..” you don’t know if it’s about Natasha or the stars, she looks over at you. “Right.. here” you hand the letter over to her. “Just don’t open it until I’m gone.”

Natasha watches as you walk away from her, she looks at the letter, her name written in your unkempt hand writing. She opened the envelope with care and unfolds the lined paper.

‘Natasha,

Where do I start? Well for one I’m sorry if I’ve done something wrong to make making you pissed off at me. Quite honestly I took a liking to you i really like you, a lot. And maybe in another universe we could have happened, I would’ve been easier for you to love, for anyone to love for that matter.

I love you, I’m sorry. ‘

As she read the letter, you were already climbing over the edge of a bridge, your shoes off sitting next to your bag. You stood there for a while, watching the water, maybe someone would see you and pull you down. Maybe deep down you didn’t actually want this. No, you knew this is what had to happen, what would make everything right, make everything okay.

Your jacket blows in the wind, the sun just rising over the water, giving you a sense of peace, clarity even, the wind blows in your hair, a rush coldness shivers its way down your body, for a moment you stop and think, are you just being dramatic? What if this makes everything worse?

There’s running the distance, Natasha comes sprinting towards you. “What are you doing!?” She shouts as she gets closer, she stops behind you, you don’t turn around, but you don’t step off the ledge either. “Come back on this side- you don’t have to do this” she whispers watching incase you make a move.

“I don’t have to do anything.” You mutter in response. “I don’t have to stay or go. But this is my choice to make, and I’ve already made it..” you look back for a second, Natasha looks frantic, her eyes wide, her breathing heavy and fast paced, she takes a step forward.

Natasha spends thirty minutes trying to get you to come down, talk you out of it, anything. You always thought it would Tony in this situation, maybe in the back of your head, you decide this time because you knew he’d be asleep, wouldn’t get a chance to read your letter before you’d get to the bridge, you listen quietly as she pleads for you to come down.

You take your jacket off and hand it to her, she looks at you confused. “A-are you coming down?” She asks softly, she takes your jacket and holds onto it.

“Put it on” you mumble, now looking at the risen sun, the way the it’s making the sky purple and pink, it’s gorgeous, reminding of Natasha. She doesn’t bother pulling the zipper down. “I love you” you sigh out as you hear her fumble with the jacket, when it’s over her face, that’s when you take the step, Natasha’s scream is over run by the rush of the wind in your ears, your arms extend, for a second, it feels like your flying, like your dad is holding you up in the air when you were two, a smile makes its way across your face, it’s only lasts a second, nothing more or less.

Then you hit the water, you close your eyes, there’s no pain, no cold washing over you, no warmth, no tears, and for a moment, you’re happy, really happy, truly at peace.

And there was nobody to take it away.

[0rczy]

I really like analyzing Varigo, one thing I've noticed recently is how different their approach to romance (and human connections in general) really is, but also how they're pretty much the perfect foils in this regard.

Varian grew up sheltered away in their mansion. He didn't have much clue about socializing, so when Rapunzel came to him, he gives all of them proper respect (calling Rapunzel "Princess", Eugene "Flynn Rider", as in the full name). You could assume it's because of his dad; later when the two confronted each other, Varian called him "Sir". Probably because Quiring taught him to be respectful of others, and they both clearly take this social rule rather seriously.

So then Cassandra comes in and saves Varian, for apparently no selfish reasons. She likely just didn't want to have a child get crushed when she could've prevented it, but to Varian, this changes his view on people. Cassandra isn't just a distant figure to respect; instead, someone he could have a connection with. And this is where one of Varian's most essential traits come to light: when comfortable, he treats situations like an experiment. He immediately starts calling her by a nickname, "Cassie", to see how she would react. At the day of the expo, he keeps trying out different tactics, trying to essentially just get close to Cassandra. One could Interpret this romantically, but I personally like to think he just really wanted a friend. A lonely kid, seeing someone cool show any kind of affection for him immediately made him go "there could be something here! I need to find out!", and so he does. In his own, nerdy way.

Hugo, on the other hand. He, unlike Varian, grew up having to socialize all the time. Having to talk his way out of situations constantly, he learned to put up walls so that the most desirable results come out, benefiting him and his missions. When he weasels his way into the Team, he also calls them nicknames. In his case, it stems from a need to distance himself from people, so that he doesn't get attached. One slight exception though is Varian, as Hugo seemingly not only uses nicknames on him to keep up built-up walls, but to get a reaction out of him. This is very similar to how Varian approached Cassandra when he was younger. He's interested in Varian from early on, and he handles this in his good old Hugo fashion, because he finds Varian entertaining. Varian at first doesn't trust Hugo, but when he proves himself trustworthy, he gives in. He's willing to reach out, making Hugo more than a means to an end. Eventually, the two become friends! Then more than friends!

And then, their approaches change.

I'd like to think that it was Hugo, who fell first. Or at the very least, he's the first to realize it, and he HATES THIS. His flight or flight is activated, and he really wants to flee. He's the type to ignore his feelings, try to bury them. That's all he knows how to do, really. Especially because for what could be the first time in his life, he's actually falling for someone who is his friend. Someone who means a lot to him! He wouldn't want to ruin things, especially because he knows that betraying Variant will break the guy's heart, once he finds out. Therefore, the less pain, the better.

Varian is the exact opposite of this. It takes him a long time to figure out what he feels, and that it could be romantic (he didn't exactly have the history with romance before. The "puppy crush" on Cassandra could have easily been more of an obsession with the possibility of someone showing affection towards him). But once he realizes that there's a chance that the two could be a thing? He doesn't have to think hard about what his next step should be: he likes Hugo, and he's a scientist. Trial and error is practically in his blood at this point, so if there's even a small possibility of them getting together? That Hugo likes him back? Varian will do anything to find out how probable his theory is. And so, once again, he treats the situation like an experiment. Wasting no time, he tries to confess or bring up the idea as quickly as possible. And Hugo FREAKS OUT. He's not ready!

Varian's other big trait is his stubbornness. He's not satisfied with an uncertain answer. He wants to know Hugo's view on them, as clearly as possible. So he keeps poking around, trying to find an approach that brings out different reactions, different answers as to why Hugo would be scared of them being together. Again. Really similar to how he treated Cassandra at the expo back then. This is the only way he knows how, though. And he needs clear answers.

He gets one at the last trial. Boom. Heartbreak. This isn't about angst though, so I'll end it here.

I find them so interesting. How their upbringing influenced their view and approach to people, to friendship, to romance. To each other. They are both scientists, but one is more afraid of the results than the other.

So it all boils down to the importance of clear communication: another big theme in Vat7k, what with Ulla and Donella setting an example as what not to do.

I could ramble about these characters for ages, but yeah. This is my view on them, I loooove reading different Interpretations in fan fiction though!

[passionatelyxlust]

Lust could not help thinking in any other circumstance, he would find the corporeal realm a fascination that needed every corner and crevice explored just to understand the inner machinations of what breathed life into it. Walking through anything and everything, unseen and possessing freedom no one can explain. Knowing what he knew now about Azriel's past, on the other hand, reminded the prince that some universes beyond comprehension were far more dangerous than the simple playground someone would expect for a dream witch like Azriel. Underestimating and disobeying the general laws nature intended is what killed the man's younger brother, so even Lust can heed on the side of caution watching where he stepped in a world he had no business being in. "Oh, that's just...great. I wasn't sure how powerful they would be on that end, but flying sounds exciting " Lust turned his hands every which way as a distraction from the queasiness, looking up in time to watch the other prince return at his side. "There isn't a second where I haven't thought about my brother." As Azriel grabbed for his hand again and led him through the door, the demon's thoughts filled the confines of his mind with nothing but Gluttony. The happy memories, the times they sought comfort in each other when the other princes scoffed at their relationship. The smooth-talking Gluttony who cracked jokes and defended him at every turn from their brothers. He didn't notice the unusual steps they were taking, the speed, just spending the moment thinking about the one person that he missed more than anyone from his fractured family. Lust's gaze immediately fell upon the mansion's interior as soon as they entered, the familiar marble columns and ornate chandelier hanging above their heads in the main entrance welcoming the pair, but this was not the home he left behind. "What the hell is Kai doing here?" Lust mumbled distractedly, attention more on the catastrophe left by whatever tornado swept through the place. "This isn't how I left it, Az, Jo never would've let the house fall into such disrepair. I don't understand..." He couldn't bring himself to dwell on it for too long, instead opting the other lead them, floating practically, to Gluttony's bedroom.

The second his gaze absorbed the same chaos that had been left throughout the mansion, Lust knew in his heart that this was his fault. Something very extreme happened in his absence, enough that it sent Gluttony and Josephine off kilter, something like the King. Of course, maybe he came looking for information where Lust was hiding Azriel and his brother never gave him a satisfactory answer. The sight slammed into the demon with a gut punch that sent his eyes nearly watering. From the notebooks and the discarded papers, to his brother's tossed away crown and the dagger dug into the desk's wood surface that no prince would ever have laying around out in the open unless they valued their life, nothing prepared Lust than the sight of his two best friends huddled together in an embrace. "I've never seen him like this before." The man whispered sadly, moving over to Josephine's side of the bed and reaching over a hand to brush his fingers against her cheek. It went right through the succubus and Jo stirred, but she didn't awaken either herself or the prince. "If I knew what would happen if I left-" He still would've made the same choice to protect his Prince, but at least he potentially could have taken his family along. "He's in pain, I can feel it." Lust moved around the bed, eyes never leaving Gluttony. Mourning whatever consequence befell his brother and hoping he wouldn't resent him for it. "I won't release your hand, I promise." The prince reached forward and clasped Azriel's hand, giving it a squeeze, "Just take me to my brother. I need to know what happened."

Azriel watched Lust take in his surroundings warily, not out of fear for himself, no. It's because he knew how alarming it could be for the first time—remembering what it was like to slip into the astral plane himself as a small child, though back then, it was a fantastical world free from perils. The witch now knew what it was: a deadly world of destruction, his own or otherwise if he wasn't careful. He'd brought many people to their early graves in this realm with ease and zero hesitation. He tried to see it through the Prince's eyes, and he knew it looked like something straight from Alice in Wonderland. "This was the easy part, unfortunately," Azriel replied, moving towards the farmhouse door he'd left open in the corporeal world. He wasn't even sure if he could leave and didn't know how far the barrier to keep him in went. Az paused briefly, unsure, before lifting a hand to push through the threshold and walking his entire form through. "Looks like the wards don't keep me strapped in this dimension. That's good," the witch mused as he crossed back to where he'd left Lust. "The fastest way to your brother is to think of him and step through the door. Next time we have time, I'll take you flying," the witch promised before taking Lust's hand in his and guiding him to the door. In this dimension, Azriel was connected to all dreaming beings– feeling the pull of their minds beckoning him like a siphon to his astral body. Initially, it used to be too much for him to feel, which was why he sought solace in his brother's dreams. Safer. Now, locating people the moment they dreamed was easy for him. It was late in the night already, so he figured that the Prince they were locating was in the mansion that Lust resided at previously. Like a homing beacon, the witch latched onto Gluttony's familiar magical signal and guided the two through the threshold. Space and time moved through the astral dimension, the steps the duo took feeling more like a moving walkway in an airport; propelling the two until they pushed through the doorway leading into the mansion. Azriel's eyes opened to take the space around them. The mansion looked the same as it did in the waking world, only cast with a different hue and it was... trashed. It was not like there was a fight, but as if no one cleaned up after themselves for ages. That wasn't the only thing that threw him off; there were four dreaming entities, and one felt like his brother. "Weird," Azriel stated with furrowed brows before turning to the Prince he'd carried with him, "Kai's here." Shaking his head, he pointed his gaze towards where he knew the Prince of Gluttony resided, and he could instantly feel a strong emotion pulsing; it left a taste of despair on his tongue, dreams so poignant that it leaked out of of the Prince and leeched into the plane around him. "C'mon, I can feel your brother and it's not... good." The duo didn't need to walk when Azriel was leading. Most of the time that Azriel was in the astral plane, his feet never touched the ground. However, that takes years of practice to control and the last thing they needed was for Lust to propel into the stratosphere like a helium balloon. Instead, he held Lust's hand tight and moved the duo up from the ground floor to the second-floor wing of the mansion like they were in zero gravity before pushing into Gluttony's room.

It was like he had feared. Something had happened and whatever it was, it was causing a nightmare to come off of Gluttony in waves. The two of them stood in the oppulent bedroom, and it reflected much of what he'd seen when the two made it to the mansion in the first place. Clothes strewn, notebooks littering the floor, loose leafs of paper crumpled and tossed in every direction. Glutton's crown, or what he assumed belong to the Prince, on the floor at the foot of his bed and a curious looking dagger that seemed to even glow within his realm sticking out at an odd angle in his desk as if stabbed into the surface in anger. Looking at the source of the despair, the dreams he could taste even so far away, Gluttony laid in a near fetal position with the blankets and sheets tangling his limbs tightly. The succubus that Az had come to know in passing pressed against the Prince's back with arms wrapped tight in his middle and her forehead pressed against his spine. "They're both having nightmares," the witch murmured, dropping Lust's hand briefly to walk closer to the bed and crouching; observing the dynamic between the sleeping duo. Black, wispy clouds of energy radiated off of the two, however the aura around the Prince was stronger; more palpable. Deep inky tendrils wrapping around him tightly, drowning him. Azriel waved a hand closer to the energy causing the tendrils to reach out towards him like a sunflower following the sun. "I haven't seen dreams this strong in a long time. I'll have to dispel the energy once we get inside his head." Holding a hand to Lust, he nodded towards Gluttony, "once we get into his mind, don't let go of my hand until I say it's okay. One wrong move can spell badly for all three of us."

[demo-whale]

Brosten Pt. 2

I reposted by Brosten hcs recently and I'd remiss if I didn't include Pt. 2 - enjoy!!

Matt and Neil can both speak Spanish 

instead of using it to talk shit, they just say absolute nonsense to each other

Nicky always acts like they’re saying super offensive or petty shit

he’ll gasp dramatically and it just eggs them on

they drink from each other’s cups and water bottles and eat from each other’s plates all the time 

everyone else thinks it’s absolutely disgusting

“you didn’t even ask...”

“i don’t have to ask??” 

they go tailgating to other PSU sporting events in Matt’s truck, bringing along whoever is in the mood for hotdogs and busch lite

Matt teaches Neil how to throw a football, and they like to hang out at the park on the rare occasion that they have some downtime

Matt constantly has food for Neil in his bag, like little packets of fruit snacks or granola bars

Neil invites Matt to come running with him, and even though Matt doesn’t think he’ll like it, he agrees bc Neil thought of him and wants to hang out with him

he actually ends up really enjoying it, and Neil slows his pace way down to stay next to Matt

once Matt builds up his endurance they actually talk while running

Matt likes to say whatever pops into his brain, like he has no filter, and most of the time the completely random things he says just make Neil cry-laugh

Neil has a twitter account called shit-my-dad-says and it’s all the random nonsense that Matt says on a daily basis

it has over 500,000 followers

when Matt graduates, he continues to text Neil the funniest, randomest shit and Neil posts screenshots  

(Dan has a similar account called shit-my-work-husband-says and posts the absolutely horrible one-liners he says to her. it gets almost as popular as Neil’s account)

they know how to make each other laugh so hard they can’t breathe

once Neil becomes more comfortable with affection, they say “love you” to each all the time. 

at the end of phone, during practice, whenever the one of them does something small but sweet for the other

Matt makes Neil watch finding nemo with him, and from then on they constantly do the “gimme some fin. gimme some noggin. duuuude.” 

they watch TLC shows together

90 day fiance, say yes to the dress, Darcey and Stacey 

they like to yell at the TV

which is why they also watch bad horror movies together

when they get older and Neil and Andrew make Court, Dan and Matt take their kids to the summer Olympics every four years to watch them play

Neil makes the first exy game of the season for every single one of Dan and Matt’s kids, and the first basketball game of the season for their youngest who doesn’t play exy

Neil is the best man when Dan and Matt get married

he tells stories about them and about how much they love each other

he doesn’t get too sappy, but at the end he says, “Matt, you were the first person on the team to trust me and help me without wanting anything in return. I know the love you have for me is only a fraction of the love you have for Dan, so I know that you’re marriage is going to be unshakable. Here’s to forever.” 

Matt cries and Dan beams

they name their first child David Abram Boyd (Matt says it’s because those names are significant but Dan says it’s because the initials spell DAB)

they are the brothers they never had

[bellyaz]

Snippet from my book that I forgot to post (Wattpad: belllyaz)

When they met, Nicky was just a little chubby. She had wide hips, nice titties, and a little waist with a relatively flat stomach; it just had a little pooch at the bottom.

They found out their mutual interest a few months later after his homecoming game.

Their team won, everybody got drunk, and a few of his teammates and their friends ended up by him for an after party. Gradually, everybody left until they were there only two there. The two were close friends by then so it didn’t seem out of place for them to be alone together.

He ordered some pizza for them to share and they watched a movie until it came. During this time he really got to focus on every detail of her. Her tight little tube top, her shorts (which looked about a size too small) that the bottom of her ass cheeks were hanging out of, her slight double chin that was coming in, the little pucker her elbows had, and the way her thighs would spread and touch his ever so slightly when she sat next to him. But what stood out the most was how bloated she was getting off the drinks she had; and she had plenty.

She was a ditsy drunk. Not super sloppy, but just carefree enough to let out a couple of belches without caring about it. Snacking on the chips and cookies in his fridge and licking her fingers instead of wiping them off. Mostly oblivious to the fact that her tube top rolled up a bit a couple times throughout the night and she would go minutes without noticing before pulling it down and shooting a quick glance at Zay; probably feeling a bit of guilt in her moment of clarity. The way she swayed slightly while walking about and laughed at anything remotely funny that came out of his mouth was also enticing to him.

And the drinks had her bloated… extremely bloated. Her top was at least an inch above where it was at the game and her hoochie shorts rolled up so they fit like panties. If you didn’t know better, you’d think she was five months pregnant.

When the pizza came she practically swallowed half of a slice in one bite. Zay noticed and tried to look away, but the way she moaned while chewing made it hard for him. She slouched back on the couch where they were sitting and finished off her slice, making her bulge more prominent.

She giggled and asked him to pass her another.

He put two slices on a plate and gladly passed it to her, amazed at what he was seeing.

“Hmmm,” she dragged, “I have an idea.”

She stacked the slices and took yet another monstrous bite.

She let out a big belch mid-chew.

She covered her mouth, “Sorry.” She chuckled.

“Here try it.” She said reaching to feed him, which made her shirt fully ride up over her belly.

She immediately recoiled, struggling to hide her bulging belly. She pulled her top down three times before it stayed.

“Oh my god- I’m sorry.” She dragged, looking genuinely embarrassed.

His pants grew tighter.

“Nah, you good.” He said trying to play it cool.

He noticed her demeanor change and he felt bad for her. But, her embarrassment also aroused him.

He lifted his shirt up, “Look mine does that too.”

She let out a laugh followed by a snort.

“That’s different” she slurred. “You got these abs-“ She said rubbing his stomach.

She let a moan slip out.

He readjusted his pants.

“Belly is belly.” He shrugged off.

She rolled her eyes and chuckled, “That’s not a belly.”

She grabbed his hand and placed it on her gut, “This is a belly.”

She noticed he briefly furrowed his eyebrows and bit his bottom lip.

This is when she started picking up a vibe.

She’d always speculated that he was into chubby girls. His feed was filled with girls with a little extra stomach, the girls who he would talk to all had thicker bodies, and his friends would always joke that he “liked his girls BBW.”

Since hearing the rumor, Nicky would always fantasize about Zay fulfilling her fatty dreams.

Every once in a while, when she would stuff herself to her max, she’d picture him there rubbing her belly, feeding her, teasing her, encouraging her… the works.

She finished off her slices and put it to the test.

“Can you get me a cup? Ion feel like getting upppp.” She asked.

“Me neitherrrr.” He mocked before passing her the 2L of soda he ordered. “Just drink out the bottle, it’s only us here.”

She cracked the bottle open, closed her eyes, and started sucking down the carbonate beverage.

Each gulp made her stomach tighter. She was getting a little uncomfortable, but her throbbing pussy made it hard for her to stop. She was making a spectacle of herself, acting like a complete glutton in front of this D1 athlete and it turned her on like crazy.

Zay was getting hot too. He’d dream of scenarios like this all the time, but experiencing it in person was a whole new feeling. He was so caught up in the moment. From watching her fill her gut with fatty foods all night to seeing her chugging a quarter of the bottle in one sitting was mesmerizing.

She finally put the bottle down and started panting before letting out a few rounds of burps.

She unconsciously pushed her belly in to force some more out.

His jaw dropped.

“Oh, my b-URRRRP-ad.” She said with a slight tease.

She tried to sit up but plopped back down, she swung her weight again but still couldn’t manage to get up.

“Ugh, can you feed me?” She asked before letting out a huge belch, “I can’t get up, but I’m still really hungry.”

She knew she might’ve been on thin ice but she didn’t care. She was finally fulfilling one of her deepest sexual fantasies. She was soaked and her horny brain blocked out any shame receptors she had.

He got another slice and brought it to her mouth. She took a bite and he went to put it down until she protested. She took a few more bites until her mouth was packed.

He couldn’t take his eyes off of her belly. The button on her shorts looked like it was crying out for help from how strained it was and her top was almost at the same spot as it was when she had the little hiccup earlier.

It didn’t take long for her to finish her slice before he reached for another one.

She turned her head, “That’s yours, I had four.”

“I’m not that hungry,” he answered quickly.

She chucked, “You can save it for tomorrow.”

“Nah, you can have it.” He said putting it to her face. “For real.”

She shrugged and opened her mouth before he shoved half of the slice in it.

She let out a noise of discomfort and he stifled a moan.

She clenched her thighs while chewing before putting her hands on her stomach.

“Ughh my stomach hurts.” She moaned. “This is so embarrassing, but can you rub my belly?”

“I gotchu.” He said immediately sitting closer to her and wrapping his arm around her.

He put the pizza down and rubbed the part of her stomach that was exposed, which was most of it.

“Mmm, thank you. That feels so much better.” She slurred before burping.

“Of course.” He replied.

“Damn, yo shit tight.” He chuckled in amazement.

She put her head on his shoulder and belched again. She bit her lip after, enjoying the experience.

Both of their breathings picked up. The sexual tension was thick.

“I don’t usually eat this much,” she admitted, “It’s only when I’m drunk… or high. Especially when I’m high.”

He chuckled, “So I gotta get you high, huh?”

“Mhm.” She moaned.

“Mhmm.” He replied.

He unbuttoned her shorts and she gasped as the bottom of her stomach spilled out.

“What are you doing?” She asked feeling slightly embarrassed, but very aroused.

“Shh.” He said before using his other hand to hold her chin up.

He put his thumb in her bellybutton and grabbed her pooch. She moaned as he moved his thumb around in there.

“You want me to stop?” He whispered.

She hesitated for a moment while he continued, “No.”

“I know.” He said pulling her in for a kiss.