#cs!haze

[thatbennybee]

ChordStriker!AU Designs

Branch

This is Branch when he gets to Volcano Rock City and feels comfortable there and gets a lil makeover after some extended time there. :3

He has to wear protective boots from the beginning tho because it's way too hot there. (His look is modeled after his Trollstopia ep1 Rock outfit)

Pop!Blaze & Pop!Thrash

Blaze Powerchord is Haze Flowerchord now! He's a competitive whistler instead of an air guitarist! He's a guru troll, the best whistler in the village and everyone loves him :]

He's the Creek of the Lunch Rush before his betrayal, essentially. (Meaning he's well-liked and considered attractive!)

--

King Thrash is now King Brash! He basically has all the Peppy traits but he's a little worse tbh 👎🏾 He has a nice beard tho I guess :/

[starsstardust]

The question of the decade tho, "WHO IS THE SUN KING?"

[nawemichi]

Heyze/Haze

[evolxe-domain]

< | >

[asaarii]

this is pure self-indulgent filth so 18+ I suppose bc I #need that invincidih when gaming also my first smut pls be nice or ill cry

You knew you shouldn’t have listened to him when he promised to keep his hands to himself, sitting comfortably on your bed with the newest issue of Seance Dog in his grasp. You eyed him suspiciously, your arms crossed as you looked at him from head to toe. He only smiled that damn disarming grin of his, settling against your freshly made sheets.

You trusted him.

Stupid horny Mark. Stupid horny brain.

It started with asking for kisses between deaths, slowly devolving into you sitting in his lap. Innocently, of course. Until it wasn’t. Until you felt a familiar weight against the curve of your ass and the gentle prod of his fingers, pulling your panties and shorts to the side.

“Promise not to move, baby. Won’t even know I’m here,” he’d said; as if the sheer size of him wasn’t enough to take your breath away.

You’d stupidly allowed his fingers to open you up, your eyes rolling back mid-teamfight as his thumb rubbed harsh circles on your clit. Perhaps you should have protested harder, clenched your thighs against his bullying fingers that curled oh-so-deliciously inside you. 

Maybe you would’ve had the decency to let him take you on the bed if you weren’t on a godforsaken loss streak. But you never end on a loss, even if it meant starving your insatiable boyfriend. 

Though, you never were one to deny him for too long. Especially when he pleaded so nicely to simply cockwarm. So, it wasn’t long until your shorts and underwear were soon discarded and his bulbous tip caught against your fluttering pussy, each push tantalizingly slow as you queued up for another match.

Which leads you to where you are now.

Your hand clicking furiously on your keyboard, your mouse gliding across your mouse pad as muscle memory takes over. The combo etched into your brain playing out before your eyes. You’re left with a sliver of health but are lucky enough to live another day. Annoying Riven thought she could get away from you? Ha! Not in her wildest dreams.

A familiar touch brushes your hip as you lean back into your boyfriend, his lips mumbling sweet, overstimulated nothings into your neck. His hips buck into yours from below, causing you to jolt and glare at him when your screen goes gray.

“Mark.” Your voice comes out more breathless than stern, your back arching slightly the further he drives his cock. Your grip on your mouse tightens as you misclick, the feel of him twitching inside you slowly growing to become too much.

“‘M sorry,” he pants into your skin, mouthing and licking at the sweat gathered at the nape of your neck. “You just feel so good.” Always the wanderer, his hands slip up your—his—shirt, palming at your breast with perfectly calloused hands.

“I need to focus, this is my—mgh! Stop moving…!” Your thighs quiver on each side of his lap, held open by his unfair Viltrumite physique. You try your best to keep your attention on the game, keeping your CS up to the best of your ability and taking picks when you’re able to.

The moan that pulls itself from his lips is borderline pornographic, matched only by your loud whines. The screen goes gray as you die again, and you take the chance to push against his abdomen to try and slow his incessant grinding. But it does little to deter him in his pussydrunk haze, for better or for worse.

Damn him and his Viltrumite genes.

“At least slow—slow down, dumbass.”

“Sorry…Sorry. Can’t help it.” He rolls your hardened nipple between his fingers, trying to still his canting hips to the best of his ability as his apologies fall deaf on your ears. His spit-coated lips find your jaw just below your headset, pressing feather-light kisses to the skin—a stark contrast to the muscled planes of his hips pressed flush against yours.

A few grueling minutes pass before the enemy nexus finally falls, and for the first time today, “VICTORY” flashes across your screen. You barely have time to react after taking off your headset before Mark pins your knees to your chest with unparalleled strength, fucking up into you with the desperation of a man starved.

You keen at the sudden intensity, hands blindly reaching behind you as you try to find something to hold onto. They settle on his hair, tugging at the raven locks hard enough to have a normal man in tears. But, luckily for you, Mark was no normal man, if the deep pleasured rumble from his chest was anything to go by. Or maybe he was just a masochist. Honestly, it was hard to tell with him sometimes.

“Mark.” 

His name falls from your lips a whimpered plea, caught between a string of wanton moans and short gasps. And fuck does it drive him crazy.

You tilt your head back and are met with the instantaneous feel of his lips on yours. It’s a messy mesh of tongue, teeth, and spit, with neither of you really fighting for any sort of dominance, only basking in the feel of each other. He stutters out a pretty, broken gasp when you drag your nails down his sensitive nape, though his hips never once lose their rhythm. 

“I. Love. You. So. M-Much.” Each of his words is punctuated by a hard thrust, and you begin to feel the coil deep in your stomach tighten when one of his hands drops a leg in favor of messily rubbing your clit. The new angle has him pressed against the spot that has you seeing stars, even without his ability to fly, your toes curling tightly in your Invincible-themed socks.

“Fuck…You’re close, aren’t you? Cum for me, baby. C’mon, need to feel you cum around my cock,” he babbles sweetly in your ear, his voice the only thing you can make out other than the wet schlick of his shaft pumping into your sopping cunt.

Your lips part as the coil snaps, your hips attempting to pull away from Mark as the intensity of your orgasm hits you hard. His forearm pins you against him as he fucks you through your high, though his pace seems to falter considerably as he, too, nears his peak.

“Where do you want me?” His hoarse voice barely manages to reach you through your prolonged orgasm haze, but you unconsciously tighten at the show of consideration. He groans against your shoulder, the hand still holding your leg up trembling with pleasure.

“Inside,” you gasp out, pulling him in for one last kiss before he spills deep within you. He whines against your lips as his dick twitches with every spurt of cum he shoots inside you.

When you pull back from the kiss, you’re met with the breathtaking sight of Mark’s debauched yet adoring expression. His pupils are blown out, the black nearly overtaking all of the warm brown you could spend hours getting lost in. You reach your hand up despite the awkward angle to caress his cheek and he seemingly melts at the soft touch.

His chest heaves with effort as he catches his breath, his tongue darting out to lick his kiss-bitten lips before he gives you a soft smile. “Hi,” he croons softly, acting as though he wasn’t rearranging your guts a few minutes prior.

You snort in response, leaning your back against him with an equally loving gaze. “Hey to you, too.” You glance to your legs, shooting him a sheepish look. “Help me clean up? You can tell me all about the newest issue or something.”

He laughs, burying his nose in your hair while he easily maneuvers you in his arms to carry you to the bathroom. “You’d never guess what happens with Iron Knight.”

Your arms easily wrap around his neck even though you know he’d never drop you. “No,” you gasp, a look of offense crossing your features.

Mark only smiles passively, his gaze full of nothing short of absolute devotion as he stares at your pinched expression. Something stirs deep inside him when the imperceptible sound of your mixed cum oozing out of you reaches his sensitive ears. “Oh, yes.”

©asarii 2025 — do not copy, steal, repost, or translate any of my works on tumblr or any other site

[wholoveseggs]

Hey girl, I love you and your stories <3

Can I maybe request an enemies to lovers with a female reader and Elijah, which leads to a threesome between her Elijah and Klaus. Maybe with a little punishment and very kinky maybe with a little light bondage and just light beds in general, I'll leave the details up to you

thank you already <333

Captive

18+ ---- {Masterlist} {Tag-List}

{Elijah Mikaelson x Klaus Mikaelson x Vampire!Reader} You are being held captive by a group of nasty witches, being tortured, starved of blood and interrogated night and day... You've lost all hope, until two old enemies show up to save you, and you spend the evening reminiscing and making up for lost time.

♡♡ Thank you lovely anon! Its been so long since I did a ménage à trois with the boys & it's always so much fun to write! ♡♡

7.1k words {hehe} - Warnings: smut, lots of drinking, Klaus being a little shit, oral sex {m! and f! receiving}, a little bondage, praise kink, a little punishment, slight dom!Elijah and Klaus, blood sharing, rough sex, double penetration, overstimulation && aftercare ...

@gorgeouslydangerous @starkleila @lydia1369sworld @notleylaaa @vampiresluv

@myanmy @xflowerbombxo @maryvibess @always-and-forever-daydreaming

@spnaquakindgdom @amournoir @meeom @damienmorton @wickedmuse

@cs-please @complicatedandconfusing-25 @youcanhavemybuckanyday @akala6670229 @yeaiamme2

@itsjulzandmydiamonds @witch-of-letters @elijahstwink @rosecentury

@amanda08319 @starshipcookie @li-da-savage @veggie-eggrolls @spideybv28

@sunkissedebony97 @idk00sblog @savannaounana @sekaishell @b1tchy

@loving-and-dreaming @fancycassie-stayfancy @hcqwxrtss123 @iamawkwardandshy @ziayamikaelson

@absolutemarveltrash @darkened-writer @nina6708 @evasmlp

@madeinmyownmind-blog @lovelyy-moonlight @blacknightrises @poppet05

In the dark, dingy cell; there was no way to tell the passage of time. Not that you were in any condition to care about that.

It had been so long, you had forgotten the feeling of sunlight kissing you skin, the smell of flowers in the wind, the sound of birds chirping in the morning, the taste of rich red wine, the laughter of friends. The last few days- weeks? months?- were spent in a haze. Time had become a distant concept.

All you knew now was cold, stale, dirty water, and the constant pain of hunger, and the agony of torture.

At first you blamed your captors, with their unrelenting desire to grab at power. Then you blamed your stupidity, your lack of caution. But most of all you blamed the Mikaelsons, for they were who the witches had targeted. They were the ones you were being tortured for.

If only you had not made such enemies, if only you hadn't gotten involved, you could have lived your immortal life without consequence, without guilt. You would have avoided all the pain, all the torture. Indulging in men of that caliber always came with a price, you just didn't expect it to happen to you.

In a way, it was a mercy that your body had long since given out. That you had become too weak, too hungry, to do much more than lay against the dirty floor, staring blankly ahead. Soon your limbs would stop working, only dust left in your veins. You would desiccate and die a slow, painful death, the only relief would be your own insanity.

It was there, in that dark place, where you accepted your fate. The witch's spells kept you trapped, you were too weak to even crawl out the door, and there was no one who knew where you were, no one who would come for you.

That is, until you felt the cold chill of the witch's magic suddenly disappear, like a weight lifted from your shoulders. Then the sound of fighting outside, the screams of the witches and their death rattles, and the door creaking open. And a cold laugh you never thought you would hear again.

"Isn't this a sight?" Klaus said, crouching down outside of the cell, leaning close to the ground to meet your eyes, "I never thought I'd see you in such a state, little fox."

His tone was light, almost mocking, and his grin was as cold as ever. You blinked a few times, hoping you were imagining things, that the delirium had finally set in. You had experienced plenty of hallucinations since the witch's had captured you.

But he didn't disappear. He stayed, watching you, like a snake waiting to strike.

"She looks awful," He mused, looking you over.

"And she smell even worse," another voice chimed in, his soft lilting accent completely unfamiliar, and yet somehow familiar at the same time.

"You've let yourself go, sweetheart," Klaus teased.

"Are you going to sit and gawk, or are you going to rescue the poor girl," The second man said, his voice growing closer as he joined Klaus.

It was Elijah, his way with words unmistakable, even in the attempt at an American accent he spoke with now.

"I was actually thinking about killing her, would it be easier?" Klaus replied, his grin widening, "What do you think brother, is she a lost cause?"

Elijah peered through the bars, his dark eyes taking you in. You wanted to hide, or scream, or cry. His face bringing back a thousand buried memories, all the reasons why you had tried so hard to forget him.

"I'd say she's quite beyond salvation," he said, "but you know I could never resist a damsel in distress, even one as ugly as this."

That hurt, even though you certainly deserved it. Many great fables are written about the tragic love affairs of humans, but nothing compared to the heartbreaks between vampires.

Klaus laughed at the pain in your eyes, the way they watered ever so slightly, despite how weak and dehydrated you were. But he reached out and grabbed the iron gate, tearing it off the hinges with a grunt.

"I think we're past pleasantries, don't you agree, love?" He asked, striding into the cell and lifting you up.

The moment his hands touched your skin, you knew it was real. That by some divine miracle you were rescued and it was by the worst possible people.

"You should really take a bath, it's unbecoming for a lady to smell like a sewer." Elijah commented, watching the way you were limp in Klaus' arms.

You choked out a half laugh, half sob, every small movement felt like sandpaper rubbing against your skin. You swallowed hard and it felt like a knife had been forced down your throat.

"Fuck you," you wheezed.

"There she is!" Klaus said, holding you bridal style, "We were wondering if you had actually died."

Elijah reached out and placed a hand on your head, smoothing out your hair and giving you a gentle smile. You leaned into the touch, the first kindness you had felt in so long.

Klaus carried you out of the cell, and into the room above. He sat down in an old wooden chair, the same one you had been tortured in countless times. Your breathing hitched and you tried to struggle, but he held you tight, pressing his face into your neck.

"Relax," he said, "I'm not going to kill you … yet."

The threat hung in the air, and Elijah rolled his eyes at his brothers' dramatics. You felt the tip of his tongue lick up your neck, and his fangs graze your skin, before pulling away.

"Any of them still kickin'?" He asked Elijah, who was peering around the room.

"One, she's alive. Barely," he replied, his gaze falling on a witch laying face down on the floor, her neck was at a weird angle, no doubt snapped by Elijah.

He dragged her to the middle of the room, her body limp, but you could hear the faint beating of her heart, her blood still pumping. She was still clinging to the last threads of existence. Her blood smelled divine, the sound of her heartbeat was music to your ears.

"Here's a deal," Klaus said, pulling your attention back to him, "I give you her blood, and you answer our questions. Sound fair?"

Your lips were chapped and your throat was dry, but you forced out an answer, "Yes, please."

You hadn't begged for anything the entire time the witches had imprisoned you. Not for freedom, not for mercy, not for blood, not even for your own life. But in that moment, all of your pride had been stripped away, and there was nothing left but desperation.

Elijah lifted the witch up, biting down on her wrist and offering it to you. The taste of fresh blood filled your mouth, and you moaned, gulping down as much as you could. But the relief didn't last long, as he pulled away.

"Enough," he said, his grip tight, "can't have you drinking too much."

You felt life returning to your limbs, your bones tingling as you were able to wiggle them, your skin turning from a gray pallor to its usual color. It wasn't much, but it was more than enough to take the edge off.

"Now, let's start with the obvious," Elijah said, "Why are you here?"

"On vacation," you replied sarcastically, your voice hoarse, but not as quiet as before.

Elijah didn't say anything, instead he gave you a cold stare, daring you to make another joke. You shrunk away, but not much. It had been so long since you had been with them, but the way they made you feel, was ingrained into your bones.

"The witches, what do they want from you? I will not ask you again," He asked, the anger behind his words making you nervous.

"They wanted you two," you said, "they knew we had...history."

"History?" Klaus said, chuckling, "that's a very bland word for what we had."

You bit your tongue. He wasn't wrong, but you weren't willing to admit that to them.

"They thought I could get to you, so they tortured me," you explained.

"And could you? Get to us?" Elijah asked, his eyes narrowed.

You didn't respond, instead you looked down. The truth was, you had been avoiding them for centuries and to do that, you always kept tabs on them. So yes, if you wanted to, you could have gotten to them, but that would have meant reopening old wounds, and the last thing you wanted was to feel that pain all over again.

"We could always compel the answer out of you," Elijah mused.

You shook your head. It wasn't that they couldn't, but that they didn't need to. You were already at their mercy, and had no desire to fight them.

"I... I kept your secrets, no matter how much they tortured me," You said, "I never told them anything."

"How noble," Klaus replied, rolling his eyes, "your loyalty is truly inspiring, sweetheart."

His grip tightened on your body, his fingers digging into your skin. It was starting to make you angry. Yes, they had saved you, but the way they spoke to you, the way they were acting, it was too much.

"Fuck off," you snapped, "I could have given them anything, and yet, here I am, starving and tortured. So maybe a little respect would be nice, you prick."

Elijah let out a short, sharp laugh, while Klaus glared at you. But after a moment he grinned and chuckled, the sound sending a shiver up your spine.

"You were always so bold," Klaus said, "you never were afraid of me."

"She's a fool then," Elijah replied.

"Well, what is life without a few fools, brother?" Klaus asked.

"Boring," you replied, earning a smirk from both of them.

Elijah leaned down, grabbing the witch by the hair and placing her head on your lap. She was so close to dying, you could hear her heartbeat getting weaker and weaker. You looked down at her, the smell of her blood filling the air, and licked your lips.

"Drink up now, you've earned it," he said, stroking the back of her head.

You sank your teeth into her neck, the taste of her blood filling your mouth, as you greedily sucked up as much as you could. Nothing tasted better than draining the life out of a witch.

When you finished, you tossed the body aside, licking your lips and wiping your mouth. You were finally able to relax, your stomach full, your skin returning to a healthy color. You stood up, steady and sure on your feet for the first time in months.

"Where do you think you're going?" Klaus asked, reaching out and grabbing your wrist.

"A hotel, I'm thinking luxury suite, room service, a month long spa treatment, the works," you replied, "thanks for the save, I'm off."

You tried to pull your arm away, but his grip tightened, yanking you towards him.

"Such hubris, little fox," he said, his voice cold and menacing, "you don't really think we're going to just let you go, do you?"

You struggled in his grasp, but it was no use. He was too strong, and you were still too weak. You looked to Elijah, a silent plea, but he just shrugged, an amused smile on his lips.

"What the hell do you mean?" You asked.

"Well, there is the fact that you owe us a favor, but also," he said, leaning forward, his mouth brushing your ear, "I still think your lying,"

And with that, he reached for your neck and with one swift move he snapped it. You didn't even have a chance to react, and as you fell to the ground, the world fading away.

When you woke up, you were somewhere else, on a large, incredibly comfortable sofa, the smell of leather and wood in the air. The light was dim, and it took you a moment to get your bearings. You heard a crackling fire, the sounds of music playing from somewhere, and the voices of the Mikaelson's arguing.

"I don't believe she was lying," Elijah said.

"Really, I'm surprised at you brother," Klaus replied, "considering how she ended things with you,"

Elijah sighed and didn't respond. You couldn't see him, but you imagined him adjusting his suit, and the way his jaw twitched when he was annoyed.

"I'm not inclined to trust her either," Elijah said, "But I think holding her captive is pointless,"

"She's a risk," Klaus argued, "and she's not leaving till I'm sure she's not lying."

You sat up and glanced around, trying to see where they were. It was a large living room, the furniture was ornate and expensive, with antique looking paintings on the wall, and bookshelves lining every surface. There was a coffee table next to the sofa you were on, and your eyes landed on a fresh horror that was laying there.

You let out a blood curdling scream, one that echoed in the space and made Klaus and Elijah appear almost instantly. You were still staring, frozen in place, unable to look away.

A human head was sitting on the table, his skin pale and his eyes wide and lifeless. It was one of the witches that had tortured you, and it was sitting there, staring at you.

"Jesus Christ, is that necessary?" You snapped, pointing at the head.

Klaus grinned, looking down at the head, and shrugging, "I thought you would appreciate the gesture,"

"I don't!" You exclaimed.

"Perhaps you could have done something a little less barbaric," Elijah suggested.

"Oh come now brother, where's the fun in that," Klaus replied, and Elijah rolled his eyes.

"It's a peace offering," Klaus replied, walking over and lifting the head up, tossing it from one hand to the other, "do you like it?"

"No!" You yelled, covering your eyes and trying not to gag, "I want it gone, get rid of it,"

"Oh, come on little fox, don't be so uptight," He replied, his voice low and dangerous, "I remember when you used to enjoy this sort of thing,"

An awkward tension filled the room. Elijah cleared his throat and Klaus laughed.

"Too far?" He asked.

"Just a bit," Elijah replied.

"Sorry, my bad," he said, turning his attention back to you, "now, let's discuss how you're going to repay us."

"What, not even a hello, or how are you?" You asked, standing up.

Elijah gently pushed you back down onto the sofa. He sat down next to you, giving you a small smile, and placing a hand on your knee. You felt your heart skip a beat, and you cursed yourself for the reaction. You had been the one to ruin things with him, and yet, being near him again, it made you wish you hadn't.

"This happy reunion calls for wine!" Klaus called, he chucked the head somewhere out of sight and strided over to a mini bar, pulling out a bottle and glasses, "unfortunately I don't have anything fancy at this particular bar, but this is a decent 1990s vintage, which I think is passable,"

"I don't drink anything after the 1900s," Elijah replied, leaning back against the sofa.

Klaus scoffed, but didn't reply, instead he poured himself a glass and downed it in one gulp.

"Fine," he grumbled, "make me go to the cellar, like some sort of servant,"

"If the shoe fits," Elijah quipped.

You watched the exchange, trying to process everything that had happened. They were different now, their accents and mannerisms, not to mention their appearances. But the easy banter between them, and the way they were able to get under each other's skin, that hadn't changed one bit.

"Are you two ever not at each other's throats?" You asked, leaning back, "seriously, you are worse than an old married couple."

"Far worse," Klaus yelled, before disappearing down a hallway, off to retrieve the good wine.

"Don't mind him," Elijah said, turning to you, "he's never been very appreciative of fine cuisine."

"I know. He's a heathen," you replied, smiling.

Elijah didn't return the smile, his gaze fixed on you, a strange expression on his face. His eyes were dark and intense, and the longer he looked, the more uncomfortable you felt.

"You've changed," he said.

"So have you," you replied, "it's been centuries and I wasn't exactly eager to run into either of you again."

He didn't respond. The silence hung in the air, neither of you wanting to talk about the elephant in the room. What had happened, was painful, and neither of you had really moved on.

"Why did you do it?" He asked, his voice barely above a whisper.

You bit your lip. A million lies flashed through your mind. The truth was cruel, and you didn't want to admit it, but it was the only option.

"Because I was bored," you admitted, "and I didn't know any other way to handle it, so I turned it all off,"

"And found a far more vigorous lover in the process," Klaus said, suddenly appearing with an older bottle of wine.

He handed it to Elijah, who looked over the label and nodded. Klaus gave you a wink and sat down on the chair across from the two of you.

Elijah didn't speak, and you couldn't read his expression. He looked hurt, and his gaze turned away from you. Guilt was a feeling you spent a lot a time accepting back into your life, but to witness the consequences, that was far worse.

"Whoops, still a sore subject I see," Klaus teased.

"Niklaus, shut up," Elijah snapped.

Klaus threw his hands up in mock surrender, and didn't say anything, a satisfied smile on his face. He was just as much to blame as you, but clearly he had no remorse and was loving the awkwardness of the moment.

Elijah uncorked the wine and poured a glass for all three of you. The tension in the room was still palpable, and as much as you wanted to apologize, you knew that nothing would fix what you had done.

"To reunions, and bloody witches," Klaus said, raising his glass, "to past lovers and new enemies, to the future, whatever that may bring,"

He chuckled and took a long drink. You and Elijah didn't move, still looking away from each other.

"Oh, come on, I'm not doing this whole thing alone," Klaus said, glaring at the two of you, "let's play a game,"

"You know, I'm not really in the mood for a game," you said, crossing your arms.

"Well, lucky for you, I'm not asking," Klaus replied, his voice dripping with false kindness, "now, the rules are simple, tell the truth or take a drink,"

"We are not children," Elijah protested, "we don't need games to imbibe,"

"Oh, I beg to differ," Klaus said, "so, what shall we ask first? Hmmm... oh, how about, why were you in New Orleans?"

You stared at him, unsure if you should just answer, or try to get out of the game. He was looking at you, his eyes narrowed and his jaw set. You could feel his anger, and the last thing you wanted was to piss him off.

"I needed an answer to a question," you replied, "it's… important to me,"

Klaus and Elijah exchanged a glance, both of them curious about what you meant.

"How intriguing," Klaus said, leaning back, "and what was this question?"

"Doesn't work that way," you replied, a smile creeping onto your face, "it's your turn,"

"Clever girl," Klaus replied, grinning.

"My turn," Elijah said, turning to Klaus, "where did you find this bottle,"

"Why does that matter?" Klaus replied, annoyed.

"I don't remember seeing that year in the cellar," Elijah replied, taking a sip.

"Perhaps it was from your secret stash…" Klaus asked, smirking, "the one I'm not supposed to know about?"

Elijah glared at him, and you stifled a laugh. Their arguments were always funny, and this was no exception.

"Well, I was feeling sentimental, so I grabbed one of the better years," Klaus explained, "what's the harm in a little nostalgia,"

Elijah didn't say anything, his gaze turning back to the glass, swirling the wine around.

"My turn," you said, "how did you find me?"

"Simple," Klaus said, "we have spies everywhere, and witches are the most gossiping creatures on the planet. When I heard they were torturing a lovely little vampire that matched your description, well… we just had to see for ourselves,"

You were shocked, that they had gone out of their way to find you. You hadn't expected them to care, or even remember you, and to know they had saved you just because they could, it was a strange feeling.

"But, why bother saving me?" You asked, genuinely curious, "you don't owe me anything, not after how I left things,”

They both fell silent, exchanging a glance that seemed to have an entire conversation within it. After a moment, Elijah spoke.

"It's always better to know where our enemies stand," he said, "you are a useful asset, and a potential enemy,"

"And," Klaus added, "we love killing witches who get too big for their boots,"

Elijah glared at him and then sighed, "That too,"

You didn't say anything, their reasoning making perfect sense. You had a history with the two of them, but that didn't mean you were friends.

Elijah's arm stretched behind you, casually resting on the back of the couch. His fingers brushed your shoulder and you felt your breath catch. His hand was warm and you could feel his thumb stroke your shoulder.

"What did the witches ask you?" he said, his voice soft and low. “Tell us the whole truth,”

His hand moved subtly to the back of your neck, a quiet threat, one that didn't require words. You understood the unspoken message and knew that if you didn't give him an answer he was happy with, then you would end up the same way as the head that was somewhere in the house.

"They asked about your weaknesses, how to kill you," you admitted, "I told them to go fuck themselves and in return they upped to torture severely,”

Klaus snorted, clearly impressed. He poured himself another glass, while Elijah gave you a satisfied nod.

"Why the loyalty? We haven't spoken in centuries," Elijah asked, his fingers tracing the curve of your neck, "I seem to remember you hating us both,"

You picked up your glass and took a long drink, not saying anything.

"Not a fan of the question?" He asked.

"It's not loyalty, but self preservation," you said, shrugging, "the wrath of witches is one thing, but you two? That's a death wish,"

Klaus laughed and held up his glass, "well played, sweetheart,"

Elijah didn't remove his hand, his fingers lightly caressing the nape of your neck, his gaze never wavering from yours.

"My turn," you said, trying not to squirm under his touch, "why not kill me? You are clearly afraid I hold secrets you rather I didn't,"

"Call it … Nostalgia," Klaus said, a wicked grin on his face, "I do so love to reminisce, and if I am being honest, you are one of the more fun memories,"

"Ah yes, your one weakness, sentimental attachment to those you've slept with," you quipped, taking another drink, the alcohol warming your throat.

"I guess it's the one thread of our humanity we've never been able to shake," Klaus admitted.

You raised your glass and downed the rest of it, setting the glass down with a small clink. Elijah refilled it, his hand now resting on your lower back. You tried to ignore it, but every touch made you more aware of him, and less able to concentrate.

"Let's make a deal," Klaus said, his expression serious, "we will let you go, if you answer why you are in New Orleans,"

You bit your lip, wondering if they would even believe you.

"I'm here because..." you paused, looking down at the ground, "I heard a witch here can help with... Fertility,"

They both froze, a stunned look on their faces.

"A baby?" Elijah asked, his eyes wide.

"Is that what you've been chasing all these centuries?" Klaus asked, clearly surprised.

You looked up at both of them, two of the oldest beings to walk this earth. Them, of all people, you hoped would understand your reasons.

"I've experienced everything I've ever wanted too in my long life," you began, your hands twisting in your lap, "climbed the tallest mountains, swam in the deepest oceans, drank with Kings of long forgotten empires, fucked and fed from the greatest artists, poets, warriors and philosophers the world has ever known... but now I wish for only one thing,"

You stopped, swallowing a lump in your throat, blinking back the tears that were threatening to fall.

"To be a mother," you whispered, "to impart my wisdom on someone, and love them more than anything. To show them the beauty of the world and watch them grow up, have children of their own, and carry on a legacy. It's the one thing I haven't done, and the one thing I want most in the world,"

You thought that Klaus would laugh, perhaps even mock you, but he didn't, instead his expression was sympathetic, and Elijah's was one of understanding.

"You are not the wild, reckless creature that we used to know," Klaus said, "you have changed,"

"And so have you," you replied.

The three of you sat in silence for a few minutes, letting the weight of the conversation settle.

"Did you find what you were looking for?" Elijah asked, his arm now firmly around your waist.

"All I found was a chains and a cell," you replied, "I was a fool, blinded by hope. All that awaited me was pain,"

Klaus poured you another drink, they couldn't help you, but at least they could offer you a distraction.

The night quickly dissolved into a drunken revelry. The three of you laughing and drinking, the old days a source of amusement. Your belly was full of blood and wine, and the tension between the three of you had dissipated.

"Now that I have determined you aren't a threat, it's time to get down to the real questions," Klaus said, "who is the better lover? Me or my dear brother,"

"Seriously?" You exclaimed, rolling your eyes.

"What?" He replied, "I'm just curious, I promise I won't get jealous,"

"I'm not answering that," you said.

"Yes, well, I would rather not hear the answer," Elijah interjected.

"You are no fun," Klaus replied, and then leaned forward, his gaze intense, "I'm going to assume it's me,"

"Interesting assumption," you said, raising an eyebrow, "but if we're talking about skills, there is a clear winner,"

Elijah grinned, and Klaus shot you an offended look. You laughed and finished the rest of the wine, setting the glass on the table.

"And I've always preferred passion over... Enthusiasm," you said, a hint of teasing in your voice.

Elijah didn't look up from his drink, his face neutral, but you could tell he was smiling. Klaus huffed, and crossed his arms.

"I would be delighted to remind you," Klaus said, leaning forward and placing a hand on your thigh, "just say the word, and we can retire to a more comfortable location."

You grabbed his wrist and twisted, until you felt his bones shatter. He cried out in pain, then quickly recovered, the bones snapping back into place.

"That's not how this works," you replied, smiling sweetly.

He stared at you, his expression changing from shock to a pleased smile.

"Still the same fire, I see," he replied, "a good reminder of the past,"

"If I were to sleep with either of you again, it would be on my terms, certainly not when I'm held captive," you snapped.

"Who said anything about holding you captive," Klaus replied, "if we were, you would still be shackled to the wall,"

"Some might enjoy that sort of thing," Elijah remarked, his cheeks were a bit rosy from drink and you enjoyed how it made him seem less cold.

"Have you done that sort of thing Elijah?" You teased, "I never would have taken you for a deviant,"

He shrugged, a sly smile on his face, "I don't divulge such things,"

"Oh, please, you can tell us," Klaus said, "unless you haven't, and are simply trying to pretend like you have,"

"Or perhaps he has and is ashamed of the things he's done," you added, laughing.

Elijah glared at the two of you, the playful glint in his eyes giving him away. He simply stood up and held out his hand to you, the confidence in his stance and the way he looked at you sent a jolt of heat through your body.

"The only way to know for sure, is to experience it for yourself," he said, his tone seductive, "I'll leave the choice up to you,"

You stared at him, a sudden desire coursing through your veins. This was a terrible idea, but at the same time, a chance to have a night of freedom and pleasure after months of torture was an offer you couldn't resist.

"If I say no, am I free to go?" You challenged, meeting his gaze.

"You were never a prisoner," he replied, "the only person keeping you here is yourself,"

He was right. They hadn't chained you, or compelled you, and now that the threat of danger was gone, there was nothing stopping you from walking out the door. But that was not what you wanted, and the look in his eyes was too enticing.

"Alright, but I need a shower first, I still smell of dungeon and witch piss," you said, standing up and taking his hand, "and you better not disappoint,"

He smiled, his eyes dark with desire, and pulled you into his arms, his lips crashing into yours. The kiss was intense, and you clung to his shoulders, melting into his embrace.

Klaus scoffed, he loathed being left out.

"Really?" he grumbled, pouring himself another glass. "Can you keep the noise to a minimum, I would prefer to have a little sleep tonight,"

You let out a soft giggle, "oh, don't pout, you can come too,"

Klaus raised an eyebrow, looking to his brother for an answer. Elijah nodded, a smirk on his face.

"If she insists," Elijah said, his voice smooth, "you know I've never been good at denying her,"

Klaus immediately got to his feet, throwing his glass of wine into the fireplace. The flames leapt up, the red embers glowing, illuminating the room in a fiery light. He walked over and wrapped an arm around your waist, his lips brushing your ear, his hand cupping your ass.

"Do you have any idea how many times I've fantasized about having you in bed again?" He whispered, his breath hot against your neck.

You smiled and pushed him away, enjoying his expression of surprise.

"Well, then, why are we still standing here," you said, sauntering out of the room, "the night won't last forever,"

Elijah caught up with you in the hallway, wrapping his arms around your waist and pressing you up against the wall. He kissed you, his hands sliding down to your thighs and lifting you up. You wrapped your legs around his waist and ran your fingers through his hair, deepening the kiss.

He carried you all the way to his bedroom, never once breaking the kiss. The room was dark, and the bed was large and covered in dark silk sheets. He pointed to his bathroom, and you pulled your tattered clothes off, leaving them on the floor.

You went into the bathroom and turned on the shower, waiting for the water to get warm. You felt his arms wrap around you and turned around, letting him press you up against the tile. He kissed you again, his tongue slipping into your mouth. His hands roamed your body, exploring every inch of bare skin, his touch igniting a fire within you.

Klaus quickly joined you, he had undressed in the other room, and stood naked in the doorway. You smiled at him, enjoying the way his muscles flexed as he moved.

Elijah pulled away from you to undress and you watched as his shirt was unbuttoned and fell to the ground. His pants followed, and your eyes roamed his body, admiring his muscular frame. The two of them were opposites in many ways, but they both had a beauty to them, and right now you could hardly choose which one you wanted more.

You took both their hands and pulled them under the steamy water, running your hands across their skin. Their bodies were warm and firm, their skin soft under your fingertips. You kissed Elijah, while Klaus kissed and licked your breasts, his hands wandering between your legs.

You could feel his fingers brush against your wet core, his thumb pressing against your clit. He slowly circled the sensitive nub, sending a wave of pleasure through your body. Your hands wandered down to Elijah's cock, gently stroking the hard length.

Elijah kissed you, his lips trailing down your neck, his hand gently caressing your breasts. You moaned, enjoying the feeling of their hands on your body.

Their touch was overwhelming, hands and mouths everywhere, and it was only when the water started to turn cold that you all stepped out, laughing and breathless.

Elijah pulled you on to his bed, and you fell on to his chest. His lips found yours and you lost yourself in his kiss. You felt the bed dip and Klaus pressed his lips against your shoulder, his hands running along your thighs. He kissed his way down your spine, his hands pushing your ass up in the air.

His lips trailed along the curve of your lower back, his fingers tracing the line of your hip. He placed a soft kiss on your inner thigh and you moaned, anticipation coiling in your stomach.

You felt his tongue flick across your pussy and you gasped, arching your back. He chuckled and began licking and sucking, his tongue expertly teasing your clit.

Elijah's hands cupped your face and you turned your attention back to him. His eyes were blown wide with lust, his gaze fixed on yours. You kissed him, the taste of the wine still lingering on his lips. His cock was hard against your stomach and you could feel his desire pulsing through his veins.

Your hand trailed down his chest, and you wrapped your fingers around his cock, slowly stroking the thick shaft. His eyebrows arched in pleasure, and you could feel his muscles tighten.

You kissed your way down his chest until you were level with his cock. You ran your tongue along the underside of his shaft, enjoying the sound of his low moans. A gentle hum left your throat and you felt him shudder.

You took him in your mouth, gently sucking and swirling your tongue. He groaned, his hands tangling in your hair. His grip tightened and you increased your pace, taking his length deeper.

Klaus moved away for a moment, and you could see Elijah observing whatever he was doing, a dark smile spreading across his face. You felt the bed dip as Klaus returned, and he grabbed your wrists, pinning them behind your back.

A moment later, the soft leather of a belt wrapped around them, and he secured the belt, tight enough that you couldn't move, but not too tight that it hurt.

Elijah's eyes met yours, and a wicked smile played across his lips. "Do you enjoy being tied up? Being helpless and at our mercy?" He asked, his voice a deep growl.

You nodded eagerly, taking him further into your mouth. His eyes darkened, and he grabbed a fistful of your hair, his hips thrusting forward. You could feel him hit the back of your throat and gagged, your eyes watering.

Klaus kissed your lower back, then positioned himself at your entrance. You gasped as he slowly slid inside, the stretch sending waves of pleasure through your body. He held still for a moment, letting you adjust to his size, then slowly began to move.

You moaned, the sensation of being filled by both of them overwhelming. They began to move in a steady rhythm, Klaus thrusting into you while Elijah fucked your mouth. You were helpless, pinned between them, unable to do anything but submit.

The sound of their pleasure sent a shiver of delight through you, and you felt yourself getting closer and closer to release. Elijah's breathing became ragged, and his grip on your hair tightened. You knew he was close, so you focused on pleasuring him, moving all the way down and swallowing.

He let out a low groan and came, his hot release spilling into your mouth. You swallowed every drop, then pulled away, gasping for air. You smiled up at him, his expression one of bliss.

Klaus continued to thrust into you, his pace increasing. He leaned forward and bit into your shoulder, his fangs sinking deep. You cried out in pain and pleasure, your body shuddering. His bloodlust combined with his own pleasure, the feeling overwhelming, but just as you were about to cum, he stopped.

You let out a whine, and he chuckled, his hands squeezing your ass.

"I don't think I'm quite ready for this to end," he murmured, pulling out.

Elijah's hands moved down to your arms, pulling you forward and guiding you onto his lap. You straddled him, your hands still bound behind your back, and his cock brushed against your wet core.

"Do you remember how you used to love riding me?" He whispered, his lips brushing against yours.

You nodded, eager for him to fill you. He grinned and lifted your hips, slowly lowering you onto his cock. He gripped your hips and began to move you up and down. You moaned, resting your head on his shoulder and grinding your hips.

Klaus positioned himself behind you, and you felt his hand trail down your back. His fingers traced the line of your ass, and then he spread your cheeks, exposing your other hole.

"You are such a pretty little thing," he murmured, pressing a finger against your ass, "all tied up and at our mercy,"

He slid a finger inside, the tight ring of muscle giving way. You moaned, the feeling of being filled by both of them overwhelming.

Klaus coated his cock with a lubricant and pressed it against your ass. Elijah held you still, his lips claiming yours in a heated kiss. You could feel the tip of Klaus' cock pushing into your ass and whimpered, the stretch bordering on painful.

Klaus slowly sank into you, letting out a low groan. He began to thrust, his movements slow and deep. The feeling of both of them inside you was almost too much, and you moaned, your body trembling.

"Are you enjoying this, love?" Klaus asked, his voice low and dangerous.

"Yes," you whimpered, unable to form a coherent sentence.

Elijah kissed along your jaw, his fingers digging into your hips, guiding your movements, rocking you back and forth on their cocks.

You felt the heat of their bodies pressed against yours, and their hands were everywhere, stroking, caressing, and teasing. The smell of their sweat and desire was intoxicating, and you were lost in the pleasure, your mind spinning.

Klaus pulled on your wrists, his mouth colliding with the side of your neck. You cried out as he bit into you, his fangs piercing your skin. Elijah kissed the other side, mirroring his brother's bite.

The combination of the pleasure and pain was too much, and you came, your orgasm crashing through your body. You writhed in their arms, your body trembling, waves of ecstasy washing over you.

They kept you pinned between them, bouncing you up and down, their movements rough and animalistic. The belt came loose, and your hands came free.

You wrapped your arms around Elijah's neck as another orgasm hit, this one even more intense than the last. He smiled at the look of pure bliss on your face and kissed you, his hands tangled in your hair.

Klaus groaned, pressing himself deep as he came, then he slowly pulled out, kissing the nape of your neck.

Elijah soon followed, his eyes meeting yours as he shuddered, spilling into you. You collapsed against him, exhausted and sated. He gently stroked your hair, his gaze soft and loving.

"I forgot how good you are at that," you mumbled, your eyes drifting closed.

He chuckled, his fingers gently tracing patterns on your skin. You snuggled against his chest, enjoying the warmth of his embrace.

Klaus laid down next to the two of you, his eyes bright, and a smile on his face. "What about me? Any thoughts?" He asked, and you giggled, the alcohol still coursing through your system.

"You were pretty good, too," you replied, reaching out and patting his arm.

He grinned, his hand coming to rest on the top of your thigh. "I don't know why we didn't do this earlier, it would have saved us all a lot of trouble," he said.

Elijah nodded, a small smirk on his lips, "you may be right,"

"I'm sorry for leaving you the way I did," you said softly, running your hands through Elijah's hair, "and thank you for coming to save me,"

He nodded, pressing a soft kiss against your forehead, then helped you off his lap, and onto the bed, covering the three of you with a silk sheet.

"Do you mind if I stay here a while? It's been so long since I've had a good night's sleep," you mumbled, your fingers curling into Elijah's chest, holding him tight.

He didn't reply, just pulled you closer, his hand stroking your back, lulling you to sleep.

"We've got all the time in the world, love," Klaus said softly, his voice barely a whisper, "we'll make sure no more nasty witches get their hands on you,"

It had been so long since you had felt so content, you could feel the warmth of their skin, smell their cologne, hear the beat of their hearts. You could taste the blood and whiskey in the air, and it felt right, like you had come home.

[hereforuconnwbb]

Unexpected Halt - CHAPTER EIGHT

paige x azzi (pazzi)

au fic!

~paige plays for uconn and azzi plays for stanford~

word count: 10.9k

warning: language, drugs

I PRE WROTE ALL TS AND WAS GONNA POST LATER BUT IMMA POST NOW CS IM SO GIDDY AND HYPED AZZI IS BACK FOR ANOTHER YEAR LESSSSFUCKENGOOOOOOOO

hey guys heres chapter 8 !! ik u guys wanted me to fix it but hey, we r getting there veryyyyy slowly 🤞🏽 gonna build off of this in the next chapter and maybe get them right ??? 🤷🏽‍♀️ we will see 😛 im hoping i didnt leave any mistakes in here and that it all adds up but hopefully yall enjoy !!!

DISCLAIMER: i want to make it clear that i DO NOT support, condone, or normalise victim blaming, manipulation, or any form of abuse. this story is purely fictional and meant for storytelling purposes, exploring themes of deception, miscommunication, and emotional conflict. the events depicted are not meant to excuse harmful behaviour but rather to show how misunderstandings and outside influences can impact relationships. if any part of this story is upsetting, please read with discretion.

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

A few days had passed since the incident at Ted’s, and the silence between Paige and Azzi was deafening. Neither had reached out to the other, both wrapped up in their own spiraling emotions, unsure of how to bridge the gap that had suddenly appeared between them.

Paige had spent the last few days in a haze, replaying everything over and over in her head, feeling the weight of the mistake she’d made. She hadn’t known Lexi had drugged her, but the consequences of her unconsciousness were now clearer than ever. Azzi was hurt, and Paige couldn’t fix that — not yet, at least.

She couldn’t bring herself to call Azzi. The idea of hearing the coldness in her voice, or worse, hearing nothing at all, made her stomach twist. She knew Azzi had blocked her number. She had seen it in the moment of panic after waking up, and it hit her harder than any physical blow.

The days dragged by in an uncomfortable mix of regret and confusion. Paige found herself constantly checking her phone, hoping for a message, but there was nothing. Not even a hint of the person she’d come to rely on, to trust.

Azzi, on the other hand, was no better off. She sat in her room, staring blankly at her phone, unable to erase the image of Paige with Lexi’s lips pressed against hers. It burned in her mind every time she closed her eyes, the overwhelming betrayal eating away at her. Her heart ached in ways she hadn’t known possible, but her pride kept her from reaching out. What was there left to say?

Each passing hour felt like a battle to hold herself together, to not let her emotions get the better of her. She missed Paige. She missed the connection they shared, the easy comfort of being with her. But she also felt foolish for letting herself believe it was real. How could she have been so blind? And now, all she had was the image of Paige, unconscious, while Lexi twisted everything for her own gain.

Caroline had tried to comfort her, offering words of support, but even she had become a distant figure in the background. Azzi couldn’t focus on anything except the pain of what had happened. She’d blocked Paige’s number because she didn’t know what else to do. She didn’t want to hear more lies, more empty apologies. It wasn’t that she didn’t love Paige anymore. It was that she couldn’t trust her. Not now.

Paige lay in bed now, scrolling mindlessly through social media, trying to drown out the quiet ache in her chest. She didn’t know how to fix this, didn’t know where to start. The whole situation felt too complicated to untangle, but she knew she needed to find a way to apologize — and more than that, to explain what had really happened.

But how could she even begin? Would Azzi believe her?

Paige sat up, the silence in her room feeling more suffocating than it ever had before. Her phone lay in her hands, the screen lit up with messages from KK and Ice, but not a single word from Azzi. She couldn’t keep doing this. She couldn’t keep staring at her phone, hoping Azzi would maybe unblock her and reach out. She had to be the one to break the silence.

But where to start?

With a shaky breath, she unlocked her phone and scrolled through her contacts, stopping when her eyes landed on Caroline’s name. She hesitated, her fingers hovering over the screen. Caroline wasn’t exactly Azzi, but she was close. She might not be the one to forgive her, but maybe she could help. Maybe she could tell her what to do. After all, she had been there through everything with Azzi.

Finally, Paige tapped out a message, her heart pounding.

Paige: Hey, Caroline. Can we talk? I need to explain myself.

It took a few minutes before the dots appeared, and then the reply came. Caroline’s response was swift, but it hit like a punch to the gut.

Caroline: Paige, I don’t think you and Azzi should be talking right now. She’s hurt, and I don’t think it’s going to help either of you for me to be the messenger. You fucked up, and now you need to give her space.

Paige winced, the sharpness of Caroline’s words striking her harder than she had expected. She had known it was coming, but it still stung.

Paige: Caroline, I swear, I didn’t.

Caroline: I don’t care what you didn’t do. The fact is, she’s upset, and you need to respect that. Azzi’s not in a place where she wants to hear from you, and I don’t think it would help. Not right now. And honestly? I don’t think she’d want me to be talking to you either, but I’m not going to be the one to make this harder for her. She’s already been through enough.

Paige’s hands trembled as she read the messages over and over. She could feel the anger, the hurt in Caroline’s words, and she couldn’t blame her for it. She had let Azzi down, let both of them down, and now Caroline was just as angry. But she needed to talk to someone. She needed to explain.

Paige: Caroline, please. I just— I didn’t know what was happening. I was drugged. Lexi did it. I— I’m not making excuses, I just need Azzi to know that. I need to explain to her that I didn’t do this intentionally. It wasn’t me.

The reply came quickly, almost too quickly.

Caroline: I know you think you’re explaining, but right now, it’s not going to help. Azzi needs time, and I’m not sure if she’ll even want to hear what you have to say when she’s ready. You’ve hurt her, Paige. I think you need to take a step back and think about that.

Caroline’s words were like a slap in the face. Paige’s chest tightened as the weight of her own mistakes came crashing down again. She didn’t know how to fix this, didn’t know if Azzi would ever be able to look at her the same way again.

Paige: But I love her. I really do, Caroline. I never meant for any of this to happen. Please, just tell her I’m sorry.

Caroline didn’t reply for several minutes, and when she did, it was in a much softer tone.

Caroline: I’m not the one to give you her forgiveness, Paige. You’ll have to work for that. Just… think about what you’ve done. Think about how Azzi feels.

Paige read the message over and over again, her heart heavy with the weight of the truth. She didn’t deserve Azzi’s forgiveness. Not yet. But that didn’t mean she wasn’t going to fight for it. She had to.

She just didn’t know how.

—----------------

Azzi sat on her bed, her knees pulled up to her chest, staring blankly at the floor. Her phone lay beside her, still turned over, as if even looking at it would bring back everything she was trying to push away. But no matter how much she tried to distract herself, Paige’s words—or what she thought were Paige’s words—kept replaying in her mind.

She had barely slept since that night. Barely eaten. Everything felt off. On the court, she was slower, unfocused. She hadn’t even told her teammates what happened, and she wasn’t sure if she ever would. She just kept pretending she was fine, when in reality, she felt like she was unraveling.

A knock at her door pulled her from her thoughts.

Caroline stepped inside, her expression cautious. “Hey,” she said softly.

Azzi just hummed in response, not looking up.

Caroline walked over and sat beside her, exhaling before speaking. “Paige texted me.”

Azzi stiffened at the mention of her name. Her jaw clenched, but she still didn’t look up.

“She wanted to talk,” Caroline continued. “Said she needed to explain herself.”

That made Azzi scoff. “Explain what? That she lost interest? That she wanted her ex instead?” Her voice was bitter, laced with hurt. “I don’t need an explanation, Care. She made it pretty damn clear.”

Caroline hesitated for a second before nodding. “I told her I didn’t think you’d want to talk to her,” she admitted. “I shut her down.”

Azzi finally lifted her head, her expression unreadable for a moment before she exhaled. “Good.”

Caroline studied her carefully. “Are you sure?”

Azzi let out a dry laugh, shaking her head. “What am I supposed to do? Let her talk her way out of this? She kissed Lexi, Caroline. She literally told me she wanted her. And then she let me find out with a damn picture? Nah. I don’t wanna hear anything from her.”

Caroline frowned but didn’t argue. “I get it,” she said. “And I’m not saying you should forgive her. But… you’re not okay.”

Azzi looked away. “I’ll be fine.”

Caroline sighed. “You don’t have to be fine right now. But you also don’t have to act like this doesn’t hurt.”

Azzi swallowed, trying to keep herself composed. “I don’t wanna talk about it anymore,” she muttered.

Caroline nodded slowly. “Alright,” she said, squeezing Azzi’s knee gently before standing up. “Just know I’m here, okay? For whatever you need.”

Azzi didn’t respond, just gave a small nod before Caroline walked out of the room, leaving her alone with her thoughts.

And no matter how much she tried to bury them, they weren’t going away anytime soon.

—----------------

Paige sat at her desk, her phone still in her hand, though it had been a few minutes since she sent the message to Caroline. She didn’t expect an immediate response, but she still stared at the screen, waiting for something—anything—that would bring some relief to the knot in her chest. There was no reply from Caroline yet, and, even though she’d already given her the cold shoulder, it felt like she had lost Azzi for good.

She couldn’t shake the guilt gnawing at her. The way Azzi had blocked her, the way everything had gone from feeling perfect to nothing in the blink of an eye. Paige had never felt so helpless in her life. She hated herself for that night. For letting herself get caught up in Lexi’s twisted games, for not being able to explain herself, for letting Azzi slip away.

It wasn’t fair.

It wasn’t fair to either of them. She hadn’t had the chance to tell Azzi what had actually happened. She hadn’t even had a chance to apologize properly before things had spiraled out of control. Paige wiped at her eyes, trying to blink away the tears, but they kept coming. She hated the weakness she felt, the tears that kept spilling out even though she couldn’t stop them.

She couldn’t explain to Azzi. Azzi wouldn’t listen. She had no way of telling her that she wasn’t the one who sent the messages. That it hadn’t been her kissing Lexi, that she had been knocked out, unconscious, and that the whole thing had been twisted into something that it wasn’t. She wanted to scream, to shout at the top of her lungs to anyone who would listen, but all she could do was sit there, feeling more alone than she ever had.

And Azzi��Azzi would never know.

Paige felt the suffocating weight of her isolation, the constant ache in her chest. She couldn’t reach out to Azzi. Not after what happened. Azzi had made her choice. She had blocked Paige’s number, had made it clear that she didn’t want anything to do with her. And Paige couldn’t blame her. Not after everything that had happened.

But still, the thought of not being able to explain herself, of not being able to make Azzi see that she was innocent in all of this, tore her apart. She needed Azzi to know. She needed her to understand that everything had gone wrong, and she had been powerless to stop it.

Paige wiped at her eyes again, letting out a shaky breath. She hated this. Hated feeling like she had no voice. No way to make things right.

The room felt too small, too suffocating, and Paige stood up abruptly, pacing for a moment before grabbing her jacket. A walk. She needed a walk.

Without thinking about it any further, she grabbed her keys, slipped on her shoes, and stepped out into the cold night air. The campus was quieter than usual, the only sounds being her footsteps echoing on the pavement as she walked aimlessly, hoping the chill in the air would cool her thoughts, calm the storm inside her head.

Her mind kept circling back to Azzi. She kept wondering where things had gone wrong. When had everything started to unravel? Had it been Lexi’s reappearance? Had it been her letting her guard down and trusting the wrong person?

Paige wanted to scream at herself, to apologize for everything she had done wrong. But she couldn’t. She couldn’t take back any of it. She couldn’t change what had happened. And the longer she walked, the more she felt like a part of her was just slipping away.

She didn’t know what to do. She didn’t know how to fix this.

The tears came again, harder this time, but she didn’t even bother to wipe them away. She let them fall, letting the cool breeze brush against her face as she tried to breathe through the pain. All she wanted was to hold Azzi, to make everything right again, but she knew that would never happen. She knew she had messed it all up beyond repair.

And the worst part? She didn’t even know how she’d get back from it.

Paige’s footsteps slowed, the weight of the night pressing down on her as she wandered aimlessly through the quiet campus. She could hear the soft rustling of leaves in the trees, but it felt like the world around her was miles away. Every step was a reminder of how broken she felt, and the pain in her chest felt like it might swallow her whole.

As she turned a corner, the sound of voices caught her attention. Her heart skipped a beat—Ice and KK. They had probably come looking for her. She hadn’t been in her room for hours. She hadn’t wanted to be there, hadn’t wanted to face the emptiness of it all. But now, she was alone, and the guilt was suffocating.

“Paige,” Ice’s voice called gently, and Paige’s shoulders tensed, the weight of the tears she’d been holding back finally breaking through. She didn’t even try to hide them as they fell freely down her face. She felt small in that moment, vulnerable in a way that she wasn’t used to. But the comforting presence of her friends made the pain a little more bearable.

KK was the first to reach her, pulling her into a tight hug. Ice followed, wrapping her arms around Paige as well, the trio standing in the quiet night with nothing but the sound of Paige’s soft sobs filling the air.

“Hey, hey, it’s okay,” Ice whispered softly, her voice soothing as she rubbed Paige’s back. “You don’t have to be alone in this, alright? We’ve got you.”

Paige could barely catch her breath, but somehow, just being held in their arms felt like the tiniest bit of relief. She had been running on empty for so long, her emotions too tangled to even make sense of. But now, with KK and Ice there, she felt like she could finally break down—like she could admit how badly she was hurting.

“I messaged Caroline,” Paige finally whispered between shaky breaths. “I thought… maybe she could help me explain. But she shut me down. She shut me down…” The words stung more than she expected, and she felt a fresh wave of tears crash down on her.

Ice’s grip tightened around her. “You tried, Paige. You’re trying. That’s all you can do right now.”

“I don’t know what to do,” Paige choked out, her voice cracking. “I just… I can’t lose her, but it feels like I already have. I can’t even explain what happened to Azzi. I… I didn’t mean for any of this to happen, but everything’s messed up now.”

KK’s voice was quiet but firm. “You’ve got to give her time. Azzi’s hurting too, you know? You can’t blame yourself for everything, Paige. What happened wasn’t your fault.”

“I didn’t even get to tell her what happened,” Paige whispered, barely able to speak the words through the lump in her throat. “I didn’t get to tell her I was unconscious when the picture was taken, when the messages were sent… I didn’t get to explain myself.”

Ice sighed softly, her fingers still gently brushing through Paige’s hair. “Paige, we know. But right now, you can’t carry all of this on your own. You’ve got to give Azzi some space. You know how she is—she’s hurt, too.”

Paige nodded weakly, burying her face into Ice’s shoulder. “But I don’t know if she’ll ever forgive me. I don’t know if I can fix this.”

“You can’t fix it overnight,” KK said, her voice full of quiet assurance. “But you can start by being honest with her. And with yourself. You’re not alone in this, Paige. You’ve got us. We’ll help you through it.”

Paige nodded, her tears slowly subsiding as the weight of her friends’ words sank in. She still had a long road ahead of her, and there was no telling how things would turn out with Azzi. But for now, she wasn’t alone. She didn’t have to carry this pain by herself.

With a shaky breath, Paige whispered, “Thanks… both of you. I don’t know what I’d do without you.”

KK gave a soft laugh, squeezing her tighter. “You’ll never have to find out, Paige. We’re here for you. We always will be.”

As the three of them stood there, the cold night air no longer seemed so suffocating. It wasn’t much, but it was a small glimmer of hope in the middle of all the darkness. And for the first time in days, Paige allowed herself to believe that maybe—just maybe—she could make things right with Azzi.

—----------------

The morning after the late-night breakdown, Paige awoke feeling heavy. The guilt still clung to her, but today was game day—UConn was playing at Gampel Pavilion, and she couldn’t afford to be consumed by her emotions. She had to push through. She had to focus on basketball, even if it was hard to focus on anything else.

As the team began to prepare, the gym buzzed with excitement, the energy of the upcoming game pulsing through the air. Paige couldn’t shake the thoughts of Azzi, but she was determined not to let it affect her performance. Today, she would be focused. She would be the Paige Bueckers the fans knew and loved.

During warm-ups, Paige went through the motions, bouncing a ball between her hands, stretching her legs, and mentally preparing for the game. The stands were already filling up with fans—die-hard UConn supporters who were excited to see their team compete. Paige couldn’t help but notice how many eyes were on her. She always thrived in the spotlight, but today it felt different.

As she walked toward the sideline, a young fan caught her attention. The little girl was holding a sign that said, “I believe in you, Paige!” It made Paige smile despite everything she was carrying inside. But then, out of the corner of her eye, she noticed a couple standing near the front row, holding a baby who was staring up at her with big, curious eyes.

“Hey there,” Paige smiled softly, walking up to them. The baby’s eyes locked onto hers, and she couldn’t help but wave. “Hi, little one! You’re so cute.”

The baby giggled and reached out a small hand toward her. Paige’s heart melted. It was a simple interaction, but it was the kind of innocence and sweetness that she desperately needed in this moment. Without thinking, she bent down to get closer to the baby, letting the little one grasp her finger. The parents were smiling, clearly just as touched by the moment as she was.

“I think you’re a future UConn fan,” Paige said with a chuckle, her voice warm and gentle. “Look at you, already a natural.”

The baby babbled happily, and Paige couldn’t help but laugh. She made a silly face, trying to get the baby to smile more. And sure enough, the little one broke out into a bright grin that had Paige grinning back, feeling a brief respite from her worries.

The moment felt perfect in its simplicity. Paige spent a few more moments chatting with the parents, thanking them for their support before she moved on to the next part of her warm-up routine. But what she didn’t know was that someone had captured the interaction on their phone, and before long, the video was being shared all over social media.

By the time the game was about to begin, the video had gone viral. The caption read: “Paige Bueckers making our hearts melt with this precious moment with a young fan! This is why we love her!” Fans flooded her social media with praise, commenting on how sweet and genuine the moment had been. It was a reminder of why Paige was so adored, even in the midst of everything she was going through.

—----------------

Azzi sat in her dorm room, the quiet hum of her laptop filling the space as she stared at the screen, not really focusing on anything in particular. She had spent the last few days pushing herself through the routine of school and practice, keeping herself busy, trying to avoid the thoughts of Paige that constantly swirled in her mind. But no matter how hard she tried, she couldn’t escape the pain.

As she scrolled mindlessly through social media, something caught her eye. It was a video, a short clip of Paige interacting with a baby fan during warm-ups before the game. Azzi’s heart skipped a beat as the thumbnail loaded. She hadn’t expected to see Paige on her feed, especially not like this.

The video was simple but so undeniably sweet. Paige was crouching down, smiling brightly at the little baby, making faces and engaging with the child in a way that was pure and endearing. Azzi couldn’t help but feel a pang in her chest, watching the way Paige lit up in that moment. She hadn’t seen Paige so carefree in a while, and the sight of her doing something so genuine made Azzi’s heart ache with longing.

She swallowed hard, not expecting this reaction. But there it was—right in front of her, the real Paige, not the one with the cold, distant energy from the last few days. The Paige who made her feel like the world was worth it.

Azzi paused the video, taking a deep breath. The urge to reach out to Paige was almost overwhelming, but she quickly shoved that thought aside. No. Not after everything that had happened.

Despite what happened between them, she couldn’t help but admire the way Paige had handled the situation with the baby. It was clear that Paige was still the same person, the one she had fallen for. But Azzi couldn’t forget the betrayal she felt when Paige’s ex had sent her those messages, the photo, everything that had gone down.

Still, watching the video made Azzi feel conflicted. She couldn’t just turn off all her feelings for Paige, not when she still cared so deeply. It was hard, too hard, to simply pretend that the connection wasn’t there anymore.

Azzi sighed, shaking her head, trying to clear the fog in her mind. She glanced at the clock—there was still time before the game started. In a quiet decision, she clicked over to UConn’s sports app, finding the live stream of the game. It wasn’t the same as being there, but it was something.

She hit “Play,” and the game footage loaded, the pre-game buzzer echoing through her speakers. It was hard to admit, but a part of Azzi wanted to watch—wanted to see Paige play, to see her in her element. She missed it. She missed her.

With a small sigh, Azzi adjusted the volume, leaned back in her chair, and watched as the camera panned across the court, waiting for the game to start.

—----------------

The game was intense from the start. Their opponent came out aggressive, matching UConn’s energy possession for possession. Paige quickly found herself in a battle, hounded by a tough defender who was making every dribble, every cut, a challenge. But Paige thrived in these moments.

She took control early, weaving through the defense and knocking down a pull-up jumper from the elbow for the first points of the game. The crowd erupted, but there was no time to celebrate. Their opponent responded immediately with a three-pointer on the other end, setting the tone for what was about to be a tight, physical contest.

The first quarter flew by, a back-and-forth affair with neither team able to break away. Paige dished out assists, finding her teammates in transition and setting them up for open shots. She hit another mid-range jumper, then drilled a three of her own off a screen, keeping UConn in rhythm. But every time they gained momentum, their opponent answered right back, refusing to let them build a lead.

By halftime, the score was tied.

Paige wiped the sweat from her forehead as she made her way to the locker room. The intensity of the game was exactly what she needed—something to pour herself into, something to distract her from everything off the court. But even as she focused on the game plan, the weight of the last few days still lingered in the back of her mind.

Coming out of halftime, UConn looked to push the pace. Paige initiated the break, driving into the lane before kicking the ball out for a three. She followed it up with a hard drive to the rim, finishing through contact for an and-one. The crowd erupted as she flexed her arms for a brief second before stepping to the free-throw line.

But their opponent wouldn’t go away. They responded with a run of their own, forcing turnovers and capitalizing on second-chance points. By the time the fourth quarter rolled around, the game was still up for grabs.

Paige stood near the sideline, catching her breath as the buzzer sounded to signal the start of the final period. The score was nearly even, and it was clear this one was going to come down to the wire.

She took a deep breath, rolling her shoulders back again. One more quarter. That’s all that mattered now.

—----------------

Paige bent over slightly, resting her hands on her knees as she took deep breaths. The fourth quarter had been nothing short of a war. Both teams were going at it, possession for possession, neither backing down. Bodies crashed into each other on drives, defenders slapped at the ball with desperate aggression, and every bucket felt like it could be the turning point.

With under five minutes left, the game was deadlocked. Paige had already taken several hard hits, her jersey damp with sweat, but she wasn’t going to slow down now. She snatched a rebound and pushed the pace, weaving through defenders before dishing a no-look pass to her teammate for a layup. The crowd roared as UConn took a slim two-point lead.

But the other team refused to go away.

A deep three from their point guard put them back on top. The next possession, Paige fought through a double team, spun into the lane, and finished with a tough floater over an outstretched hand. The lead changed again.

Each time UConn scored, their opponent responded. The clock ticked down, the intensity inside Gampel reaching a fever pitch. The fans were on their feet, screaming on every possession, the sound rattling through the arena.

With thirty seconds left, UConn was up by one. Paige locked in defensively, her stance low as she shadowed her matchup. But their opponent made a quick move, driving hard to the basket. Paige slid over to help, but the ball handler kicked it out to the corner. The three-pointer went up.

And it dropped.

The opposing bench erupted as the shot fell through the net. With only six seconds left on the clock, UConn was suddenly trailing by two.

Paige felt her stomach twist, but there was no time to dwell on it. No timeouts. No huddles. Just instincts.

She grabbed the inbound pass and took off down the court.

Her defender rushed up, trying to force her wide, but Paige cut back to the middle, her feet barely touching the ground as she sprinted across half-court. The clock was down to two seconds. There was no time for anything else.

Paige planted her foot and launched a deep shot from just beyond half-court.

The ball sailed through the air, the entire arena holding its breath.

Then—

Swish.

The net barely moved as the ball dropped in.

Gampel Pavilion erupted.

Paige barely had time to react before her teammates swarmed her, bodies crashing into her as they screamed and grabbed at her jersey. The crowd was deafening, the floor shaking with the sheer force of the celebration.

She had won them the game.

Paige was breathless, hands in her hair as she tried to process what had just happened. She had done this before. She had hit clutch shots before. But tonight? This one meant everything.

For the first time in days, she felt something other than heartbreak.

She felt alive.

—----------------

Azzi sat on her bed, her eyes locked onto the screen as the game reached its final moments. The intensity had her gripping the edge of her blanket, her breath caught in her throat as she watched the opposing team drain a clutch three to take the lead.

Her heart pounded, even though she told herself she wasn’t as invested as she used to be. This wasn’t her team. She wasn’t supposed to care.

But then—Paige got the ball.

Azzi could see it coming before it even happened. The way Paige moved, the confidence in her stride, the way she pulled up from beyond half-court without hesitation.

Then—

Swish.

Azzi sucked in a breath as the crowd erupted, her stomach twisting as she watched Paige’s teammates swarm her in celebration.

Classic Paige.

It was the kind of moment that would be all over social media within minutes. The kind of moment that made Paige who she was—clutch, fearless, electric. Azzi had seen it firsthand so many times before.

And for a split second, just for a moment, she forgot everything.

She forgot about the messages.

She forgot about the picture.

She forgot about the way her heart had shattered.

Because all she could see was the girl she—

Azzi clenched her jaw and exhaled sharply, shaking her head.

No.

She grabbed the remote and turned off the TV, the screen going black instantly.

She refused to let herself get caught up in Paige Bueckers again. Not after everything.

Azzi leaned back against her pillows, sighing heavily.

It didn’t matter what Paige did. It didn’t change anything.

—----------------

Paige sat on the edge of her bed, still in her game gear, staring at the floor. The cheers from Gampel still echoed in her head, the weight of her game-winning shot still lingering in her body. Any other time, she would have been ecstatic—reliving the moment over and over, scrolling through the endless reactions online, feeling on top of the world.

But now? It felt… hollow.

She leaned forward, resting her elbows on her knees, fingers threading through her damp hair. The adrenaline had worn off, leaving her drained, exhausted in a way that had nothing to do with basketball.

Azzi hadn’t texted her.

She hadn’t expected her to, but a part of her had still hoped. Hoped that maybe, just maybe, Azzi had seen the shot and thought of her. That she would reach out, even if just for a second.

But there was nothing. Just silence.

Paige blinked against the sting in her eyes, shaking her head. This is my fault. She kept telling herself that, over and over, even though she still didn’t have all the answers. Even though the entire night was still a blur, even though she knew she would never—could never—do that to Azzi. It didn’t matter.

Because Azzi thought she did.

Paige pulled out her phone, staring at their chat—the one that had been one-sided since that night. Every message she had sent after getting her phone back had gone nowhere. Blocked. The word still sat heavy in her chest, suffocating her.

She wanted to explain. She wanted to scream that she didn’t do what Azzi thought she did. That she had blacked out before anything happened. That she would never betray her like that. But she had no way to reach her. No way to make her listen.

Paige inhaled sharply and tossed her phone onto the bed beside her, pressing the heels of her palms into her eyes.

It wasn’t just the loss of Azzi that made her feel like this. It was the helplessness. The way she felt like she had no voice, no control, no way to fix what had been broken.

And she didn’t know how to live with that.

—----------------

Meanwhile, Ice sat cross-legged on her bed, her phone in hand as she scrolled through her TikTok drafts. “Yo, KK, remember when you were acting a damn fool at Ted’s that night?” she teased, smirking as she tapped on a video.

KK, lying across the floor with a bag of chips, rolled her eyes. “Acting a fool? Nah, I was carrying the energy that night.”

“Uh-huh,” Ice chuckled, pressing play. The video showed KK hyping up the crowd, doing some ridiculous dance moves in the middle of the bar while people cheered. Ice’s camera work was shaky from her laughing, but it captured everything—the loud music, the packed room, the chaos of the night.

They kept watching, laughing at KK’s moves, until Ice went to the next draft—another angle, another clip. The camera had been pointed at KK, but it was a little wider this time, catching more of the background.

And that’s when it happened.

KK was mid-spin when Ice’s laughter suddenly died in her throat. Her fingers twitched as she tapped the screen to pause the video.

“Wait.”

KK, still munching on chips, barely looked up. “Wait what?”

“Look,” Ice muttered, rewinding a few seconds and then slowing the video down. She zoomed in, her heart sinking as she focused on the background.

There was Paige. She was turned slightly away from the bar, caught up in a conversation with someone—not Ice, not KK, but another person they couldn’t see clearly. And behind her—just for a split second—Lexi stepped into the frame.

And then, clear as day, Lexi’s hand moved over Paige’s drink pouring substances in.

KK sat up so fast she nearly knocked the chip bag over. “Hold the fuck up—”

Ice played the clip again, watching the same thing happen. Paige had been distracted, fully unaware. And Lexi? She had been quick. Smooth. As if she had done this before.

Ice and KK locked eyes, the air suddenly thick with realization.

“Tell me I’m tripping,” KK said, voice lower now, serious.

Ice’s jaw clenched. “You’re not tripping.”

KK exhaled sharply, dragging a hand down her face. “Paige doesn’t know. She doesn’t know she was drugged.”

Ice’s stomach twisted. Paige had been blaming herself this whole time, drowning in guilt, thinking she had done something she hadn’t.

And the truth had been sitting right there in Ice’s drafts the whole time.

Ice and KK sat there in stunned silence, the weight of what they had just discovered pressing down on them like a brick wall.

Ice finally broke the silence. “We need to tell her.”

KK nodded, but she was still staring at the screen, jaw tight. “She’s been tearing herself apart over this, Ice. She thinks she actually let that shit happen.”

Ice exhaled sharply. “Lexi’s fucking sick. Paige was out cold, and she—” Ice cut herself off, shaking her head. “We need to tell her now.”

KK didn’t argue. She grabbed her phone and stood up. “Come on.”

The two of them left Ice’s room, moving quickly down the hall. KK’s heart pounded in her chest. Paige had been keeping everything bottled up, convinced she had ruined her relationship, and all this time—she never even had a chance.

When they got to Paige’s dorm, Ice didn’t bother knocking. She pushed the door open, and there was Paige, sitting on the edge of her bed, staring blankly at the floor. She looked exhausted—like she hadn’t slept in days.

Her head lifted slightly when she saw them, her brows pulling together. “What’s up?” she asked, her voice hoarse.

Ice and KK didn’t say anything at first. KK just walked over, sitting next to her, while Ice stayed standing, gripping her phone.

Paige’s expression shifted, picking up on the energy in the room. “What?” she asked again, her voice quieter now.

Ice swallowed, then looked Paige dead in the eyes.

“You didn’t do anything wrong,” she said. “Lexi drugged you.”

Paige blinked. Her whole body went still. “What?”

KK took a deep breath and held out Ice’s phone. “We have proof, P. It’s on video.”

Paige stared at the phone like it might explode in her hands. Her fingers shook slightly as she reached for it. Ice played the clip, and Paige watched.

She saw herself standing there at the bar, completely unaware. She saw Lexi slide into frame. She saw Lexi’s hand move over her drink.

Paige’s breath hitched.

The room spun.

She had no memory of this.

Her stomach twisted violently, like she might throw up.

“Lexi…” Paige whispered, her voice trembling. She could barely hear herself over the blood rushing in her ears.

KK placed a steadying hand on Paige’s back, her usual playful demeanor gone. “She set you up, P. You didn’t kiss her. You didn’t cheat. She did this to you.”

Paige clenched her jaw, swallowing down the lump in her throat. Her breathing was unsteady. Her hands were shaking.

All this time, she had been drowning in guilt. All this time, she had been hating herself.

And the truth had been stolen from her.

She never had a voice in this.

She had been a victim.

Tears welled in Paige’s eyes, but this time, they weren’t just from heartbreak. They were from anger. From betrayal. From the sheer violation of it all.

Lexi had stolen so much from her.

And now, Paige wanted it back.

—----------------

Paige, Ice, and KK stood in front of the police station, the tension heavy in the air. Paige’s heart was pounding as she walked into the station, clutching her phone tightly, the video of Lexi drugging her ready to be shown. This was it—she was going to take action. She was going to make sure Lexi couldn’t hurt her—or Azzi—anymore.

After a few moments, they were ushered into a small office, and Paige nervously took a seat, her hands still trembling. A detective sat across from them, flipping open a notepad, looking up at Paige with a serious expression.

“So, what do we have here?” the detective asked, taking in the scene.

Paige’s voice shook slightly, but she kept her focus. “I was drugged. Someone put something in my drink without me noticing, and I—I need you to look into it. I also need to report… what happened after. I was unconscious, and she kissed me. I—I didn’t consent to it.”

The detective nodded, glancing at Ice and KK for a moment before looking back at Paige. “Okay. Let’s take a look at the video.”

Paige pulled her phone from her pocket, her hands still shaking, and handed it over. The detective played the video, eyes narrowing as they watched the footage of Lexi subtly slipping something into Paige’s drink. Paige felt a wave of relief flood through her—it was evidence. She was being believed.

“This is definitely a clear indication of tampering,” the detective said, pausing the video. “We can follow up on this. It’s enough to open an investigation.”

Paige nodded, finally feeling like the weight was starting to lift. “Good. I—I’m just so tired of feeling like I have no control over this.”

The detective paused for a moment, flipping through their notes. “We’ll look into the drugging part. We’ll need to talk to the bar staff and any potential witnesses, but this gives us a good place to start.”

Paige felt her chest tighten. “But what about… the other part? After I passed out… She kissed me. I didn’t consent to it. Can you do anything about that?”

The detective hesitated, then spoke in a measured tone. “I’m sorry, but without any concrete proof of the kiss or your state at the time, there’s not much we can do about that. The video doesn’t show anything further than the drugging, and no one has corroborated your story.”

Paige’s stomach dropped. Her heart felt like it shattered into pieces.

“So you’re telling me,” she said, trying to keep her voice steady but failing, “that I have no proof that she kissed me while I was unconscious?”

The detective nodded, his voice softer now. “Unfortunately, without any physical evidence or witness accounts, there’s nothing we can do legally about that part of the situation. It’s your word against hers.”

Paige’s hands balled into fists, and she tried to swallow the lump in her throat. The one thing she thought would be enough—enough to prove how messed up everything was—wasn’t.

“You can’t even do anything about the fact that she drugged me? Just because she didn’t touch me the same way?” Paige’s voice broke. She could feel herself spiraling. “I don’t get it. This isn’t okay. This isn’t fair.”

Ice leaned forward, her voice firm but compassionate. “We get it, P. We do. But we can’t let her off the hook just because she’s being sneaky.”

KK added, “We can’t just back down. We’re not gonna let her slide. We’ll find another way to make sure she faces consequences. We will.”

The detective sighed, closing the case file with a resigned look. “We’ll do what we can. But right now, the drugging is the only part we can act on.”

Paige nodded, feeling defeated but still a flicker of hope burning inside her. She wouldn’t let Lexi win. She couldn’t.

“Thank you,” Paige whispered, feeling the weight of the conversation and the long road ahead. “Please, just… do whatever you can. Make sure she doesn’t hurt anyone else.”

The detective nodded, looking sympathetic but helpless. “We’ll be in touch.”

As Paige stood up, she glanced at Ice and KK, their faces full of determination. “This isn’t over. I won’t let it be.”

Ice and KK nodded, walking with her out of the station. Paige knew the fight wasn’t over. Lexi might have escaped the law for now, but Paige would make sure she faced the consequences, one way or another. She wasn’t going to give up—not on herself, and definitely not on Azzi.

—----------------

Paige, Ice, and KK sat on a bench outside, the late afternoon sun casting a soft glow over campus. They were all still processing the visit to the police station, the weight of everything starting to sink in. It felt like a lot had happened in such a short time, and it was hard to believe that it was all because of one person—Lexi.

Paige let out a long breath, her hands resting in her lap as she stared down at the ground. “I still can’t believe that’s all they could do. I thought for sure they’d take me seriously about what happened… but now it feels like I’m the one who has to do everything.”

KK and Ice exchanged glances, both trying to comfort her, but they were also feeling the same frustration. Ice reached over, placing a hand on Paige’s shoulder. “We’ll find a way. You’re not in this alone.”

“I know, but it just… sucks, you know?” Paige’s voice cracked as she looked up at her friends. “I don’t even know how to make it right with Azzi after everything. I didn’t do any of this, but I feel like I ruined everything.”

KK frowned, glancing around the campus. “Hey, look. We’ll figure it out. But you can’t carry all of this alone, okay?”

Before Paige could respond, she saw a girl walking toward them, her eyes locked on Paige. She was around their age, wearing a simple hoodie and jeans, but it was the expression on her face that caught Paige’s attention. The girl looked like she had something important to say.

“Oh my God, I’ve been looking all over for you!” The girl’s voice was a mix of excitement and nervousness, and she approached Paige hesitantly.

Paige furrowed her brow, the familiarity of the situation hitting her. She recognized the girl now. “Wait… you’re the one who was in the bathroom at Ted’s that night. The one who left her phone in the stall.”

The girl’s face brightened as she nodded. “Yeah! I’m Serena. I saw everything that night. I’ve been trying to track you down ever since. I… I didn’t want you to think I was just some random bystander, but I saw what happened with you and that girl, and I think you need to know what I got on my phone.”

Paige’s stomach dropped at the mention of Lexi. “You saw… everything?”

Serena hesitated for a moment, then sat down next to Paige, pulling her phone out of her pocket. “I did. I know I wasn’t supposed to, but I was suspicious. When I walked into the bathroom and saw you passed out, I noticed that girl—you know, the one who was with you. She was right next to you, and I was just… something about her didn’t sit right with me.”

Paige stiffened, knowing exactly who Serena was talking about.

“So,” Serena continued, “I made sure I set my phone up on the bathroom stall door so it could capture whatever was going on. I had it pointed in the right direction, and when I opened the door and left, I made sure it kept recording.”

Paige blinked in shock. “You were recording me without me knowing?”

Serena nodded. “I know it’s weird, but I didn’t want to just let this go. I watched the footage later, and I saw that girl—Lexi—was kissing you while you were out cold. I don’t know her, but I saw it all. She took a picture of you two kissing too, and then when you woke up, she started acting like nothing happened.”

Paige’s heart started racing as she absorbed what Serena was saying. She had always known there was something off about that night, something in the back of her mind telling her that what she remembered wasn’t all of it. And now Serena had the evidence—the video.

“I knew it,” Paige whispered, her hands trembling. “I knew she kissed me while I was unconscious, but I couldn’t prove it. This—this video…” She couldn’t believe it was real. The weight of everything, the feeling of helplessness, finally started to lift as she realized she wasn’t alone in this.

Serena unlocked her phone and airdropped the video to Paige. “I just wanted to make sure you had this. You deserve to know what happened, especially if it’s going to help you get justice.”

Paige watched the video, her heart sinking as she saw Lexi leaning in and kissing her while she was unconscious, unable to do anything to stop it. She could feel the anger rise in her chest. The way Lexi had manipulated everything—it made her sick.

After the video ended, Serena gave her a small, apologetic smile. “I know it’s a lot to take in. But I thought you should know. And if you ever need anything, I’m here. I’m not going to let her get away with it either.”

Paige nodded, tears welling in her eyes. She didn’t know what to say—she was overwhelmed, exhausted, and still trying to piece everything together. But one thing was for sure: she wasn’t going to let Lexi get away with what she’d done.

“Thank you,” Paige finally whispered, her voice thick with emotion. “You have no idea how much this means to me.”

Serena nodded, standing up to leave. “Just take care of yourself, okay?”

As Serena walked away, Paige sat in silence, the video still fresh on her mind. She wasn’t going to let this slide. This was just the beginning.

Paige, Ice, and KK sat in silence for a few moments, each of them processing everything that had just unfolded. The weight of Serena’s words lingered in the air as Paige held her phone in her hand, the video playing over and over in her mind. Her pulse was still racing from the shock of seeing it all again.

Ice was the first to speak, her voice quiet but firm. “This is huge, Paige. I’m glad you’ve got the video now. But what’s next?”

Paige wiped her eyes, her hands still shaking slightly. “I don’t know… I don’t know what to do with this.” She looked down at the phone in her hand, the evidence staring back at her. “I can’t just let this go. This is… this is messed up.”

KK nodded, her expression serious. “You’re right. You need to take this back to the police. You’ve got proof now, and they have to listen.”

Paige took a deep breath. “Yeah, you’re right. I’m not letting her get away with this.”

The three of them stood up, and as they walked back to the police station, the reality of the situation started to settle in. Paige’s mind was a whirlwind, thoughts spiraling as she tried to figure out what this all meant for her, for Azzi, for everything. She knew this wasn’t going to be easy, but she couldn’t just let Lexi’s actions go unpunished.

By the time they arrived at the station, it was nearing late afternoon. The police officers who had initially spoken to Paige greeted them, and the group followed them to a small meeting room. After a quick introduction, Paige handed over her phone, her fingers brushing over the screen as she handed over the damning video.

“We need to make sure this is seen by the right people,” Paige said, her voice steady, though there was a slight tremor underneath.

The officer nodded, watching the video carefully. “We’ve been looking into the situation more closely. We actually got in touch with the staff at Ted’s and got some more details. Looks like Lexi, the girl you mentioned, has been flagged by them before. She’s got a bit of a reputation for making trouble.”

Paige’s heart sank at the mention of Lexi’s name. “You knew about her?”

The officer gave a nod. “Not all the details, but yeah. We’ve heard rumors, and it looks like your situation is part of a pattern. We’re working on getting more concrete evidence. This video definitely helps.”

Paige let out a slow breath, the pressure on her chest easing slightly. “So, you’re saying… this might actually go somewhere?”

“We’re working on it,” the officer said. “We’re reaching out to some of the people involved and pulling more footage from the night. We’ll also be contacting Lexi soon, and we’ll see where it goes from there.”

“Good,” Paige said, feeling a surge of determination. “She’s not going to get away with this.”

Ice and KK stood behind her, their support unwavering. They had seen the weight of the situation settle in on Paige, but now they could see the fire burning in her eyes. She wasn’t going to let this end with a dead-end. They would get justice.

After a few more questions, the officer turned to them. “We’ll be in touch, Paige. You’ve done the right thing by bringing this to us. We’re taking this seriously.”

Paige nodded, relief and anger still mixing in her chest. “Thanks. I just want to make sure no one else has to go through this.”

Once they left the station, Paige felt a slight shift within herself. She wasn’t sure how long it would take, but she finally felt like she was doing something about it. Lexi wasn’t going to get away with her manipulations. And as she walked back with Ice and KK, she knew she wasn’t alone in this fight.

—----------------

Paige, Ice, and KK walked back to their dorm in silence, the weight of everything still pressing heavily on Paige’s chest. She kept thinking back to the conversation at the police station, her fingers itching to reach out to Azzi, but she knew that wasn’t the right move yet. Not when things were still so raw between them.

Once they were back in her room, Paige sat on her bed, pulling out her phone. Her hand hovered over Caroline’s name in her contacts, a wave of hesitation washing over her. Caroline had been pissed at her before, but this time, Paige had to make her understand.

She typed the message, taking a deep breath before pressing send.

Paige: Hey, Caroline. I know things have been rough, and I get why you’ve been shutting me out, but I really need you to listen to me. I owe you an explanation.

The response came quickly, but Caroline’s tone was firm.

Caroline: I don’t know if I’m ready to hear it, Paige. Azzi’s been through enough because of you, and I really don’t think this is something you need to be getting into right now.

Paige’s stomach twisted at the message. She’d expected this, but she wasn’t going to let it stop her.

Paige: Please, just give me a chance to explain. You know I’d never hurt Azzi on purpose. This thing with Lexi—it’s not what you think. It’s a lot worse than you know.

She waited a few moments, watching the three dots appear and disappear as Caroline typed.

Caroline: Fine. But this better be good, Paige. Azzi’s been heartbroken over this for days.

Paige quickly attached the video Serena had sent her and typed the message. Her hands were shaking, but she had to get this out.

Paige: I just got this today. It’s from that night at Ted’s. Lexi drugged me, and she used my phone to message Azzi, pretending to be me. She even sent that picture of us kissing while I was unconscious. I’ve already reported it to the police, and it’s under investigation now. I don’t want you to think I’m some kind of monster. This is all on Lexi.

She stared at her phone, her heart pounding in her chest. She had said it. She had finally said it all. There was no turning back now.

Caroline: Wait… what?

The message came a few seconds later, her disbelief clear through the words.

Caroline: I knew something wasn’t right. But I was pissed. I was too pissed about what happened between Azzi and you to think it through properly. I didn’t want to be the one to defend you when Azzi was heartbroken.

Paige’s chest tightened as she read that, the guilt gnawing at her. She understood why Caroline had felt that way, but hearing it out loud still hurt.

Paige: I know. I know, Caroline. And I hate that I made her go through that. But please, you have to believe me. I never wanted to hurt her. I’m doing everything I can to make this right.

Caroline: I just— I don’t even know what to say, Paige. This is a lot.

Paige sank back onto her bed, taking a deep breath. She had to get through to Caroline, she had to.

Paige: I know it’s a lot. I just need you to understand that I was never trying to do anything wrong. I thought I was protecting her, and I failed. But I’m not giving up on her, and I’m not giving up on us.

The message sat there for a long moment before Caroline replied.

Caroline: I’ll talk to Azzi. But you better hope this investigation leads somewhere because she doesn’t deserve to go through all this.

Paige felt a weight lift from her shoulders as she read Caroline’s words. She wasn’t sure what would happen next, but at least she had an opening now. A small one, but enough to build on.

Paige: Thank you. Just… please let her know the truth when you can. I just want to make this right.

Caroline: I will. Just don’t make this worse, Paige.

Paige set her phone down, letting out a breath she didn’t realize she’d been holding. She knew this wasn’t over. Far from it. But she’d taken a step. Maybe it was a small one, but it was a start.

As she sat there, Ice and KK glanced at her from across the room, both of them giving her small, reassuring smiles. She didn’t know what would happen next, but for the first time in a long while, she felt like she had a chance at making things right.

—----------------

Caroline paced nervously outside of Azzi’s dorm, her fingers tightening around her phone as she held it in her hands. She had told Paige she would talk to Azzi, but she wasn’t sure how this conversation would go. Azzi had been hurt by Paige, and the last thing Caroline wanted was to make things worse. But, after everything she had seen, she knew the truth needed to come out.

Taking a deep breath, Caroline knocked on Azzi’s door. She heard a faint voice from inside, and with a hesitant nod, she pushed the door open. Azzi was sitting on her bed, a blanket wrapped around her, her eyes red from crying earlier that day.

Azzi looked up, her expression hardening as she saw Caroline. “What’s this about, Caroline? I told you before, I don’t want to talk about Paige right now.”

Caroline took a few steps into the room and sat down on the edge of the bed, her eyes softening as she looked at Azzi. She had never wanted to be the one to get in the middle of their mess, but this was bigger than anything she could ignore.

“I know, Azzi. I know you don’t want to hear from her. But I think you deserve the truth,” Caroline said, her voice firm but gentle.

Azzi’s brows furrowed, confused. “What do you mean? What’s going on?”

Caroline hesitated, then pulled out her phone. “Paige reached out to me. She explained what happened, and I didn’t believe her at first. But then… She sent me something. Proof. Proof that what happened with Lexi wasn’t what we thought.”

Azzi looked at Caroline skeptically. “Proof of what?”

Caroline swiped through her phone and opened the first video. She held it up for Azzi to see, her heart racing. “This is from the night at Ted’s. It’s the moment when Lexi slipped something into Paige’s drink while she was distracted.”

Azzi stared at the screen, her eyes narrowing as she watched the video. She saw Paige, laughing and talking with someone else, unaware of Lexi standing beside her, covertly putting something into her drink. Azzi could feel her stomach twist, but she stayed silent.

Caroline swiped to the next video, her finger shaking slightly as she clicked on it. “And this… This is the part where Lexi kissed Paige while she was unconscious in the bathroom.”

Azzi watched in silence, her lips parted as she saw Lexi leaning down over Paige, who was unconscious in the stall. Lexi kissed her, taking a moment to snap a picture before Paige stirred and pushed her away, visibly confused and disoriented. Azzi could see the tension in Paige’s movements, the way she was fighting to shake off the fog, the way Lexi tried to act like nothing had happened.

Then, Paige’s voice, shaky but strong, rang out in the video, pushing Lexi away. “Why the fuck are you kissing me while I was out? Are you crazy? I’m in a happy relationship right now.”

Lexi, her expression unbothered, smirked. “Well, not anymore,” she said, her words dripping with malice.

Caroline watched as Azzi’s face shifted, her jaw tightening in anger. Azzi’s eyes were glued to the screen, her brows drawn together in disbelief. Caroline couldn’t blame her. Seeing it all play out like this, it was hard to process.

“Do you see it now?” Caroline asked quietly, her voice softer. “Lexi was the one manipulating everything. Not Paige.”

Azzi turned her gaze to Caroline, her face pale. She was quiet for a long time, as if trying to absorb everything. Her emotions were all over the place — hurt, confusion, betrayal.

“I don’t know what to think,” Azzi murmured, her voice thick with emotion. “I just… I can’t believe it. I— I don’t know how to feel about it. I should've given her the chance to speak to me but I didn't.”

Caroline reached over and put a hand on Azzi’s shoulder, trying to comfort her. “I get it, Azzi. I really do. Lexi manipulated everything, and she’s the one who needs to be held accountable. Not Paige.”

Azzi shook her head slightly. “I don’t know if I can fully process this straight away. It's gonna take some time. ”

Caroline sighed, understanding the depth of Azzi’s pain. “I know this is a lot. I don’t expect you to process this whole thing right away. But you deserve the truth, Azzi. And now you have it.”

Azzi’s eyes were distant as she stared at her phone, her mind clearly racing. “I need some time. I just… I need time to think about all of this, it's all just new.”

Caroline nodded, standing up and walking toward the door. “I understand. But just remember, don't stress yourself too much because of how you handled it.”

As she left the room, Caroline glanced back at Azzi, who was still sitting on the bed, staring at her phone, the weight of everything settling in.

Outside the door, Caroline’s heart was heavy, but she knew that the truth was out there now. She could only hope that Azzi would come to see that Paige hadn’t been the one who had hurt her.

Azzi sat on her bed, her phone still in her hands, but now everything felt different. The video Caroline had shown her kept replaying in her mind. The look of shock on Paige’s face when she woke up, the way she pushed Lexi away, the argument that followed—it all started to make sense in a way that Azzi hadn’t fully understood before.

But even with the truth laid out before her, Azzi was still struggling. She couldn’t just flip a switch and go back to how things were with Paige. There was too much hurt. But now that she knew what happened with Lexi, it felt wrong to hold onto the anger. It felt like she was holding onto something that wasn’t real anymore.

Azzi took a deep breath, scrolling through her contacts until she landed on Paige’s name. Her finger hovered over the “unblock” option, and for a moment, she just stared at it, her chest tightening. Was she ready to hear from Paige again? Did she want to hear from her?

She thought about the last few days—how she’d kept her distance from Paige, how much she had cried, how much she had wanted answers, even when she wasn’t sure how to get them. Paige had been blocked, shut out from her life, but Azzi couldn’t shake the feeling that there was more to this story. And maybe—just maybe—she needed to hear it from Paige herself.

Azzi tapped the screen, unblocking Paige’s number. It felt like a heavy weight was lifted, but it also felt like she was stepping into unknown territory. Her emotions were still raw, but she knew it was a step toward healing, even if it wasn’t one she was ready to take just yet.

She didn’t message Paige. She couldn’t. Not yet.

Azzi lay back on her bed, staring at the ceiling, her mind swirling with all the things she still needed to process. She wasn’t sure if she would ever fully heal from what had happened between her and Paige as it has emotionally wrecked her.

This was going to take time.

But unblocking Paige was a start. It was a sign that, maybe, just maybe, she was open to talking again when the time was right. The healing process couldn’t begin without some form of connection, and as much as Azzi hated to admit it, that connection had to come from both sides.

She closed her eyes, letting out a long sigh. “It’s going to take a while,” she whispered to herself, her heart heavy. But for the first time in days, she felt like there was a possibility of moving forward, even if that meant taking baby steps.

For now, that was enough.

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

[foreignjaykay]

company (a jungkook fic)

part one - "you wish i'd miss you,"

company - a jungkook fic

can we keep each other company?

their workplace was chaos, but jungkook made it fun. their camaraderie was effortless—until he decided to leave. no big deal. people quit all the time. so why does it feel like everything is about to change?

pairing: jungkook x reader

genre: r18+ (angst, fluff) minors do not interact!

chapter warnings/misc: workplace!au, coworkers!au, event planner!jk, event planner!oc, jk is not famous, angst, fluff, sad, crack, event planner!mingyu, bts in event planning company, unserious friend group, they are so silly and unserious, mean boss - yeah no she sucks, ANGST, IDIOTS both of them, yeah i guess thats it...for now hehe

notes: hello everyone!!! hehe its my first fic on tumblr and my first ever jk fic so i really hope you guys like it. im writing after so many years so please ignore mistakes eh. its kinda based on my personal experiences. things will only get interesting as this fic progresses.. lots of new characters will come in the next chapter! this fic will honestly pick up its pace from the second chapter!! anywho lets get into it!! <3

moodboard • playlist • series masterlist

The first thing you saw when you unlocked your phone this morning was a text from Jungkook. That in itself was weird—he wasn’t the type to be up this early, let alone texting people.

jaykay (work) [8:50am]: hi :)

you [8:50am]: oh my god. what did you forget?

jaykay (work)  [8:51am]: have some faith in me. i was texting for something entirely different. 😒

you[8:51am]: are you sick? held hostage? blink twice if you need help.

jaykay (work) [8:52am]: how da hell are u so dramatic in the morning

you [8:52am]: come to the point jungkook

jaykay [8:52am]: fine. 🙄 don’t bring lunch today

you [8:53am]: why?

jaykay (work) [8:53am]: lunch is on me. taking you, shane and mingyu out for ramen

you [8:53am]: 🤨🤨🤨

jaykay (work) [8:54am]: see you in office🥰

You squinted at the screen, trying to process the words through your morning haze. This man barely made it to work before noon on most days, always breezing in with an iced americano and a sheepish grin. And yet here he was, awake and making lunch plans at 9 AM? Suspicious. Very suspicious.

It’s fixed, you know? Him being late to work, getting sarcastic remarks from the bosses - Natasha, the reporting manager (god did she love micromanaging the team) and Kim Song, the director of your company.

But whatever, free ramen was free ramen and, on that note, you finally woke up and went to get ready for the weird day that was ahead of you.

By the time you got to the office, the usual chaos had already begun. Natasha, wasn’t physically present today, thank the lord for that, you thought, but her presence loomed over Zoom calls like a dark cloud. You had barely set down her bag before her laptop screen lit up with an incoming call. Does this woman ever chill?

“Good morning, team,” Natasha’s clipped voice rang out as the screen loaded. “Let’s go over the deliverables for today.” Her screen was hidden and she was on a holiday like she had very explicitly mentioned the week before she left.

You suppressed a groan as you saw Jungkook and Mingyu joining the call too. Shane, their CS intern, looked half-asleep. Jungkook, though, was oddly quiet, his usual playful banter nowhere to be seen. His leg bounced under the desk, fingers drumming against the tabletop.

You shot him a look, but he didn’t meet your eyes.

Okay that was weird, wasn’t it?

You looked towards Mingyu and Shane to see if they noticed Jungkook being a little off today but to your surprise they were engrossed on what Natasha was instructing on the upcoming event which was the luxurious Cartier dinner.

Classic Natasha, putting her work on us while she sips on pina coladas on the beach after this 10-minute meeting. You wanted to be as carefree as her sometimes, how easily she just threw her tasks on others.

Throughout the meeting, you couldn’t help but steal glances at Jungkook which thankfully he didn’t notice.

Or at least that’s what you thought.

Jungkook knew you. He knew how curious you got sometimes and he also knew currently the wheels were turning in your head wondering why he was being so awkward. He smiled internally, thinking how much you knew him and how much he was going to miss you.

If you kept looking at him like that, he was going to crack. He just hoped you wouldn’t figure it out before he told you himself.

Once the meeting was over, you quickly went towards the design studio in the office, greeting Yuna and So-hee who seemed like had just come to office with the way they were switching on their systems for the day.

“I really need the final design renders for the stage setup and the seating plan for Cartier, Yuna,” You said worried knowing that if you don’t get these renders in next half an hour then the costing would delay and then Natasha…yeah no.

Its as if Jungkook got a sign, he entered the design studio greeting Yuna, So-hee, and Dae and standing next to you as if to ease the tension you had going on.

“Babe, give me 10 minutes, the renders are ready. I’ll email it to you, Natasha and Namjoon,” Yuna said as she started working on her system. You nodded your head and gave her a worried smile.

“Mark me in the email too,” Jungkook said instantly and you gave him a pointed look. Yuna seemed to mirror your thoughts and raised her eyebrows towards him.

Seeing that you both were confused, Jungkook chuckles and says, “__, you should be happy that I am willingly asking to be marked on emails,” which makes you roll your eyes playfully and smirk.

“Also, I don’t have nothing big going on currently, project wise, so I’ll follow up for the costings and Natasha will stay away from my ass,” Jungkook continues and laughs with Yuna, So-hee and Dae.

You looked at him as he was sort of back in his carefree self but something still felt off. You just couldn’t put your finger on what this feeling was.

Lunch couldn’t come fast enough. The second Natasha’s second call for the day wrapped up the call, you shut your laptop and turned towards Jungkook who along with Mingyu and Shane was joking and was waiting for you to get done.

“Okay, spill. What’s with the mystery since today morning?” You immediately asked him and he couldn’t help but chuckle nervously.

Mingyu slung an arm around Jungkook’s shoulders, grinning. “Yeah, dude. You’re making me nervous.”

Shane, ever the observer, just raised a brow. “Is this about work? God I can’t wait to dig into some good ramen after hearing Natasha ramble since past 15 mins. 15 mins with her feel like 2 hours,” Shane continued rambling earning laughs from the three of you.

Jungkook let out a breath, running a hand through his hair. “Let’s just get to lunch first.”

That didn’t help your growing suspicion, but you let it slide—at least until the 4 of you reached the ramen place.

The aroma of rich broth and sizzling garlic filled the tiny ramen shop. Shane and Mingyu were already practically vibrating with hunger, menus discarded, ready to order. You, however, were still scanning the options, your stomach rumbling in anticipation. Just as you were about to decide, you and Jungkook spoke in unison: “Japchae.”

A surprised laugh bubbled up. “You wanna have japchae too?” you asked, a little thrill of connection sparking despite the weirdness of the morning. He nodded, a small smile playing on his lips, and ordered for both of you.

Minutes later, steaming bowls of ramen and the shared plate of japchae arrived. The savory scent made your mouth water. You took a tentative bite of the japchae, the noodles perfectly chewy, the vegetables crisp and flavorful. It was delicious. But Jungkook just sat there, chopsticks hovering over his bowl. He had a strange expression—not quite annoyed, but… something. You knew that look. It was his tell when food was exceptionally good. That’s just his weird trait.

You took the second bite yourself to see if it was and it was really good.

“I got another job.”

Silence.

Your stomach dropped.

Then, Mingyu blinked. “Wait, what?”

Jungkook shifted in his seat, avoiding their gazes. “I got an offer from an event company. They handle production for A-list musicians—concerts, world tours, all of it.” But you could see how proud he was. This was his dream.

“Oh, shit, that’s huge,” Shane said, eyes wide and dramatically keeping his chopsticks on the side.

Jungkook looked at you trying to gauge for your reaction.

You swallowed, gripping your chopsticks a little tighter. “Wow. That’s… incredible, Jungkook.” You said genuinely but why did it feel so off? Why did it feel like you were losing everything? People leave jobs all the time and this is no different, so why was it feeling all to different suddenly?

When you congratulated him, you meant it. You really did. He deserved this. But there was a weird, hollow feeling in your chest. Something tight that you couldn’t quite name.

Jungkook was watching you and asked, “You okay?”

You forced a smile but to everyone it looked genuine. “Of course. This is a big deal. I am so happy for you, Jungkook!” Mingyu and Shane mirrored your smile and congratulated him to which Jungkook threw an honest smile.

His eyes still lingered for a second longer before he nodded, turning his attention back to his food. But you could tell he didn’t fully believe you.

Mingyu and Shane immediately started asking him the questions about his new company and the new job and Jungkook excitedly answered them all and you were interested too to know all the details.

Once the 4 of you were done with the lunch, you asked him, “So when are you telling Natasha?”

“Next week, and then 2 weeks’ notice,” He said looking at you as if he was trying to find an emotion out of you.

“Damn bro, you are leaving us so soon.” Shane said and you looked at Jungkook.

“Now at least I will have some proper desk space at the office,” You tried to joke which earned you a playful eye roll from Jungkook.

“Oh my god, I have to plan a farewell party for you now,” Mingyu joked and you laughed. For the whole lunch, this is the first time Jungkook noticed you genuinely smiling and it was all thanks to Mingyu’s dramatic nature.

The rest of the workday felt strangely off-balance. Even though nothing had technically changed yet, you felt the weight of the upcoming shift pressing down on you. The knowledge that soon, Jungkook wouldn’t be here anymore—wouldn’t be there to roll his eyes at Natasha’s ridiculous demands, wouldn’t be crashing at her desk with an iced coffee and a new piece of gossip, wouldn’t be around to share those unspoken glances when things got too absurd.

You had started hating how much that realization unsettled you.

It was Jungkook who got you out of your dazed thoughts when he said, “___, I have asked Namjoon hyung for the Cartier costing and he is working on it,”

You threw a sincere smile towards him and nodded while he went back on his desk and worked on some small projects he had going on.

gyu (work) [3pm]: are you okay?

Once you read the text, you immediately looked at him but he acted to be so engrossed in his work and you couldn’t help but look back into your phone and text back

you [3:01pm]: yeah, why?

gyu (work) [3:01pm]: you sure about that? ever since jk dropped that bomb, you have been quiet and so has he.

That got your attention. Were you that obvious?

you [3:02pm]: no nothing like that. im happy that he got this. he deserves it!! also when is the blue label bottle engraving costing going to the client? natasha has been on my ass about it since morning. send it asap please <33

gyu [3:03pm]: girl i gotta give it to you, nice attempt to change the convo but we aren’t done yet. ugh why are you my senior? im sending it in 5

By the time the day ended and finally the costings for Cartier had gone out (thanks to Jungkook and Joon), you had convinced yourself you were just being dramatic. People left jobs all the time. This wasn’t a big deal. It shouldn’t be a big deal.

Mingyu and Shane had already left for the day and the design studio was also empty leaving only you and Jungkook in the client servicing department. For a Monday, people had left earlier than usual, you thought to yourself.

You looked at the clock and saw it was 7pm already.

While you packed your bags, like routine, Jungkook waited for you. He dropped you home everyday given that you both lived nearby and your apartment came on the way to his.

However, the silence between the two of you felt heavier than usual.

“You’re quiet,” he finally said as the two of you entered the elevator.

You forced a laugh and adjusted your purse, trying to look anywhere but at him. “So are you.”

The two of you exited the elevator and sat in his car, he started the engine. For the first time ever, the silence between the two of you was uncomfortable.

Jungkook sighed, drumming his fingers against the steering wheel as he took the familiar route and said, “Are you really happy for me?”

You immediately turned to look at him, meeting his gaze in the dim glow of the streetlights. “Yes, I am. Why would you think I am not?”

His smile was small, a little sad. “Alright. You and I haven’t spoken much since lunch,”

You didn’t know why, but something in your chest ached at that. But you ignored it,  and looking towards and giving him a smile and said, “Jungkook, I am so happy for you. I am. I know you wanted this and now you have it,”

For the first time in the whole day, he smiled genuinely at you.

“Will you miss me?,” He asked as he stopped the car right out of your apartment and looked at you with his doe eyes that carry the sta-

Wait what?!

You ignored whatever that thought was and quickly composed yourself and laughed at him. “You wish I would miss you,” You joked playfully and he rolled his eyes.

“On a serious note, yes I will. Who will I tolerate Natasha with?” You continued and he let out a small chuckle.

“Anyway I have to go. See you tomorrow boss,” you finally said, and then you were gone, disappearing into the building.

Jungkook sat there for a moment, staring after you.

He knew you better than you thought. He knew when you were genuinely happy, when you were just pretending, when you were holding back something you didn’t want to say. And tonight, you were definitely holding back.

Jungkook sighed, leaning his head back against the car seat. Leaving this job was supposed to be exciting, a step up, an opportunity of a lifetime. And it was.

But why did it feel like he was losing something, too?

part 2

© foreignjaykay

[323cutie]

in this moment i dream with you. | cs

pairing ୨୧ san x afab reader

word count ୨୧ 900

genre ୨୧ smut asf !! and really quite fluffy, established relationship and implied new relationship

warnings ୨୧ hrmm sexual content, swearing <3 smut warnings below the cut!!

author's note ୨୧ ive only actually written smut a handful of times and I always think it'll be decent and then i start writing and get scared But idk san is hot and sweet!!!!! goodnight

18+ mdni!!!

smut warnings ୨୧ kind of praise, dirty talk (ish), unprotected sex, pet names (baby, sweetheart), i dont actually get into it like at all but san is a switch imo, he also Talks U Thru It, cumshot (kind of) (is that even the right word), lovely aftercare, no gendered terms but again reader is afab!!

“Been waiting so long,” San murmurs once he’s finally pushing himself inside you. “Been wanting you so bad.”

Your head is fuzzy already, his words tender in your ear. He feels so good, his touch so soft, better than you could have ever imagined. You gasp out a breath and don’t miss the proud smile on his face when you whimper out, “me too.”

There’s quiet aside from the distant crickets and yours and San’s panting while you both adjust to feeling each other. He kisses you once, twice, until you move your hips and he whines, breaking away from your lips to press his forehead into your shoulder. You wrap your arms around him and roll your hips again, desperate for the friction, eager to taste it for the first time. San sighs against your neck but listens to the words you don’t have to say out loud, pulling his hips back before thrusting his cock back into you again. The air is punched out of your lungs and you moan.

You feel so worked up despite it all barely starting – maybe that’s just the effect San has on you. You want more, want him closer, even when he’s already as close as he can be. Happy to give and take, ready for whatever he asks of you. It feels like a heavy, sudden rain after a painful drought. He finds a pace that suits the both of you, rolling his hips into you and making you writhe, pressing your one of legs up and out and wrapping the other around his waist, ever tender.

“You wanted me too, hm?” He asks suddenly, and you’d tease him for being so out of breath if you weren’t struggling to think at all. You settle on nodding but he coos, giving you a few harsh thrusts as if to say use your words.

So you do, breathing out, “yes, yes. Since – ah – our first date. D-Dreamed about you, shit.”

San hums but it sounds like a whimper and you almost feel like screaming. His cock fits in you so well, hitting all the right spots like he was meant to be here. He must feel it too, if his little gasps and groans are anything to go by. “Dreamed?” He asks, pulling himself off of you to look you in the eyes.

It makes you shy, but you feel too good to do more than flush hot at his stare. “Yes,” you answer, completely honest, moaning when his fingers find your clit. “Waited so long – want more, Sannie, more –”

“I know, sweetheart, I know,” San reassures, his hips moving harder against you. “I’ll give you what you want, I promise.”

You trust him. He moves like he’s known your body for years, and in the haze of the waves of your pleasure, you wouldn’t be surprised if he managed to figure you out so quick. He’s good at everything, anyways; sensual and intuitive, fucking you hard with the most gentle presses of his hands and mouth on your skin. You feel like you’re seeing a brand new world, draped in a new light, erasing everything you knew before. It’s overwhelming. You can’t get enough.

“So fucking wet,” he mumbles, more to himself than you. “Just can’t help yourself, huh, baby?”

His fingers move faster against your clit and you shake your head no, vigorous, too caught up in the feeling of him. Every part of him melts into you like a steady stream, an endless fountain. Too good, deeper, faster –

“Gonna –” you gasp, clawing at San’s arms, his shoulders. “Gonna cum. Sannie, gonna –”

He nods, eager, eyes full of something equal parts fond and lustful. “Can feel it, sweetheart, squeezing me so tight,” he murmurs back at you. You think you can hear the squelch of your pussy as he keeps thrusting into you, keeping his steady, harsh pace and the flick of his fingers. “Come for me, let me feel it, please cum on my cock.”

You’d never say no, especially not when he’s begging so pretty. It feels like tsunamis, untouchable floods, a completely blue scene behind your closed eyelids. You think you’re moaning, going slack in San’s hold and feeling him hold you tighter. He matches your noises, riding it out with you, telling you how perfect you feel, how pretty you look, how long he’s been wanting to make you feel good.

He only thrusts a few more times, uneven and quick, before he’s pulling out and cumming on your stomach, painting you pretty. The world is quiet again, peaceful and righted, as San leans down to kiss you pliant. He does an exceptional job and you follow with no hesitation.

“Hey,” he whispers when you finally part.

“Hey yourself,” you say back. His pretty dimples show in his smile. You mirror it.

“Let’s get you cleaned up.”

He carries you to the bathroom, sweet and soft the whole time he wipes you down. You apologize for the scratches on his shoulderblades and he just laughs, but you see his ears redden when he sees them in the mirror. He carries you back to bed, too, downright refusing when you tell him you’re sure you can walk.

His eyes shine in the moonlight peeking through your window until you fall asleep, nestled in his hold.

[pia-nor481]

okay so this is personally what i think some of the driver's kinks are:

Max Verstappen: a huge praise kink

Lewis Hamilton: sir kink

Lando norris and Charles Leclerc : mommy kink ig🤭

Carlos Sainz: a huge ego and a huge daddy kink

Daniel Ricciardo: somnopholia or like fuckin someone in their sleep

Alex Albon and Logan Sargeant: gotta be overstimulation (both giving and receiving end)

and that's all I could think of as of right now you can mix them up a little and feel free to use them ideas

love you<33

MV: he loves receiving praise so much. He wants to hear how well he makes her feel, how well he’s doing. It can be as simple as “So good Max.” Or something extremely specific that he does. He also enjoys giving praise, especially when it’s trying something new. “Such a good girl, so perfect for me.” Or “look at you, taking me so well.”

LH: perhaps this has stemmed from the knighthood. “So, Sir Lewis Hamilton.” He didn’t expect her voice to affect him so much. Slowly it developed into a reoccurring title in the bedroom. “Yes Sir, I’ll be good I promise. I’ll do everything you say.” It really gets him off now. So anytime someone reminded him of that title he smiles to himself, thinking about her.

CL: he lets it slip one night. Maybe after a long few race weekends he just wants to relax, let her take control. “That’s it Charles, lie back, let me take care of you.” He lets out a quiet sigh and closes his eyes enjoying the feeling of her on top, and around him. “Please mommy, faster.” Even he was shocked that he said it, eyes shot open, expecting her to be angry. Charles wanted to tell her at some point, he was just unsure of when. She began rocking her hips faster. “That’s it Charles, be good for Mommy.”

LN: now, one evening Lando put all his cards on the table and decided to tell her everything he was into, and I mean everything. It was overwhelming to start, but she knew his intentions, he didn’t want to get too attached then reveal something that could have been a dealbreaker. He didn’t want his heart broken. One thing with Lando, is that he likes to be on top. “Yes Mommy, you feel so good…Please can I cum please.” Sometimes he will just walk up behind her, arms tight around her waist as he buries his face into her neck. “Mommy, I need you.”

CS: Now let me tell you, this man likes to DOMINATE. He actually refers to himself as daddy quite often, even outside of the bedroom. “You can cum one more time…that’s it come for daddy.” He’s always so casual about it as well.

DR: he’s the first one to ask, he was talking about really wanting to be woken up by getting head. He wasn’t expecting it to feel so good, the only thing he could think about or feel is pleasure, and it was one of the best ways to wake up. After he’s cum down her throat, he couldn’t help but express his enjoyment, and it made her slightly jealous. So he offered, one day as he wanted to keep it a surprise, that she’d experience the same pleasure. And oh was he right

Williams: so they both want to cum dry, usually about 4 or 5 orgasms and the excitement of it just pushes him closer to the edge each time. So after 2/3 it becomes hard to think, almost in a haze. Cock become so sensitive he’d have to push you’re hand or mouth away as it’s all too much. On the other hand, he’d just love to see her squirming with how much pleasure he’d given her. Begging him to stop because he’s just too good.

Hey love, sorry this took so long. Anytime I tried to write the universe said “no ideas for you.”

I hope you’re doing well and thank you for sending in ideas xx

[dragonridersandhighlords]

Chasing Shadows | F O U R

masterlist | CS Masterlist

Summary: Life feels different after a break up and Wrenley’s learning how life works on her own. With her friendship with Dain now growing and Squad Games around the corner, she starts to realize life didn’t revolve around him.

Notes: thank you @what-will-be-your-verse for your ask that made me make this deeper than it originally was. 

Warnings: allusions to dain x wrenley, Dain’s redeeming himself, Violet is a bitch, depression, on page panic attack

Word Count: 8.7k

previous part

Dain groans, the sound muffled as he leans back in the chair at my desk, the very same one Xaden occupied just a month ago, his presence still clinging to the air like a fading scent. I nod in response, my mind drifting, the syllables of Dain's words barely registering in the fog that has become my reality. It’s been this way for most of the last month, a disorienting haze where nothing quite feels real.

Ever since Xaden and I officially broke up, a heavy, leaden weight has settled in my chest, sapping my energy and dulling my senses. I feel like a ghost drifting through the halls , my appetite waning to almost nothing, my focus in class slipping. The memories of restless nights blend into one another, punctuated by the hollow silence of my own thoughts, and I struggle to recall the last meaningful conversation I had with someone—anyone.

“Hello, earth to Wrenley,” Dain’s voice cuts through my thoughts, but the words feel distant, echoing in a cavernous space where my heart used to be.

“Mmmh,” I murmur, acknowledging him without meeting his gaze.

“What’s up with you?” Dain presses, his tone laced with genuine worry. 

“I’m fine,” I say, the lie tasting bitter on my tongue. I know he won’t truly care—just like he hasn’t since he glimpsed the relic last year, a shard of my past that still haunts me.

“You forget that I know you, Wren. What’s going on? Should I be worried about Squad Games?” His question hangs in the air, heavy with expectation. 

I don’t respond, my eyes glued to the textbook in front of me, the same page I’ve been staring at since I sat down. 

“Wrenley, seriously. You know you can talk to me.” 

I finally lift my gaze, my eyes dry but aching, meeting Dain’s penetrating stare. He looks at me as if he’s trying to decipher a puzzle, the pieces scattered and jagged. “I am talking to you,” I say flatly. “You’re just not hearing the answers you want.”

Dain leans forward, elbows resting on his knees, the chair creaking under the weight of his concern. “It’s not about what I want, Wren. It’s about you visibly falling apart right before Squad Games and acting like none of it matters.”

“It doesn’t,” I snapped, my voice slicing through the air sharper than I intended. The moment the words left my lips, I noticed the way Dain’s brows shot up in surprise, his expression a mixture of disbelief and concern. I sighed, the sound heavy with exhaustion, and dragged a hand down my face, feeling the weight of my own emotions pooling beneath the surface. “It doesn’t matter. Nothing does.”

A tense silence settled between us, thick and suffocating, where even the softest of whispers would have felt intrusive. I could sense the weight of Dain's silence, heavy with unspoken judgment and the empathy he didn’t need to articulate. He’d always possessed this innate ability to read me, to see through the barriers I built. “This isn’t you,” he finally said, his voice softer now, as if he were treading carefully over fragile ground. “You don’t give up.”

In a sudden burst of frustration, I slammed the book closed, the sound echoing in the quiet room like a thunderclap. “He gave up on me.” And the dam within me finally broke, unleashing a torrent of tears that I had fought so hard to suppress. I hadn’t wanted to admit that truth—not even when Garrick and Bodhi had pressed me to talk about it, their efforts met with my silence.

Dain shifted in his seat, torn between the instinct to comfort me and the knowledge that sometimes, all a person needed was the space to cry. But then, with a surprising gentleness, he spoke, and in that moment, he transcended the roles of squad leader or fellow cadet—he became the Dain I had once leaned on, my confidant. “Then don’t let him take anything else from you.”

“What’s left to take?” I asked, the bitterness clinging to my words.

“Your fire? Your pride?” His voice rang with a certainty that caught me off guard. I huffed a bitter laugh and turned my gaze away, feeling the sting of my own hopelessness.

“Win tomorrow’s match,” Dain continued, and I could hear a shift in his tone—an edge that felt like a dare, a challenge laid bare. “If you do, I’ll help you forget about him.”

That caught my attention, drawing my eyes back to his face. “How?” I asked, curiosity sparking amidst the shadows of my despair.

His lips twitched, not quite forming a smile, but hinting at something warmer and more inviting than I had expected. “However you want.”

Dain’s words lingered in my mind like a haunting melody, playing on repeat as I lay in bed that night, unable to shake the weight of their significance. I stared at the ceiling, the shadows casting familiar shapes that danced in the dim light filtering through the window. Each tick of the clock felt like a countdown, echoing in the hollow space of my chest. When dawn broke and I stepped onto the mat, the world narrowed around me. 

The cool metal of my dagger's hilt pressed into my palm, grounding me. The air crackled with a charge that I could feel in every fiber of my being; Desa’s power surged beneath my skin, a steady thrum that resonated with the fierce determination blooming within me. This was more than just a fight—it was a reclamation. I didn’t fight to win, nor impress anyone. I fought to rediscover who I was without him.

The moment the final blow landed, the impact reverberated through my bones, and my opponent crumpled to the mat. Cheers erupted around me, washing over me in waves of exhilaration. I stood at the center of the mat, breathless, heart racing like a wild stallion, and for the first time in three long months, I felt a flicker of something that resembled clarity, bright and unwavering.

I bolted from the mat, my pulse still racing, hardly registering the congratulations from my squadmates as Emettario declared me the victor. The world around me faded, and the only thing I could focus on was Dain’s beaming smile as I crashed into him. I laughed, the sound spilling from my lips like music, as he spun me around in an embrace that felt exhilaratingly alive.

“You did it,” he exclaimed, his awe palpable in the air between us.

“I know!” I replied, laughter bubbling forth as the adrenaline coursed through me, blending with an electrifying thrill. “I think… I think I really needed that win,” I admitted, my voice softening, relief washing over me like a warm embrace. 

“You didn’t just win, Wren. You destroyed him! It was like watching a legend at work.”

His words wrapped around me, and I smiled back at him, the warmth of his praise igniting a spark within.

 “It felt more like breathing again,” I said, savoring the truth in those words. 

We walked out of the gym together, a peaceful quiet enveloped us, punctuated only by the faint echo of our footsteps. Since that formation last month with Amber’s execution, our nightly meetings had transformed into a comforting routine. Dain’s demeanor had softened, and I was grateful for the steadying presence he offered. At that moment, I knew our friendship was slowly rebuilding, piece by piece, and I couldn’t help but wonder where it would take us next.

“So…” Dain said, the mattress creaking slightly under his weight once we were in my room. “A deal’s a deal.”

I tilted my head, confusion swirling in my mind like a restless breeze. “What—?”

“I said I’d help you forget about him if you won.” His voice was steady, but the air around us crackled with an unspoken tension, thickening the space between us.

The words hung suspended in the air, heavy with implications. I swallowed hard, the sound echoing in the quiet of the room. “You meant it?”

“I wouldn’t have said it if I didn’t.” Dain shifted, sitting up straighter, moving closer, and the warmth radiating from him was palpable—almost intoxicating. Yet, despite the proximity, he refrained from crossing the invisible line that separated us. “So, how do you want to forget him?”

My breath caught in my throat, a flurry of possibilities dancing through my mind. There were so many enticing answers: a distraction to drown out the memories, a kiss to ignite a spark, perhaps a wild night that blurred the edges of reality and regret. But none of those options felt right—too hasty, too raw, not quite what I needed at this fragile moment.

“Just this,” I finally murmured, my voice barely above a whisper, laced with vulnerability. “Just stay. Just… remind me what it feels like to be seen.”

A flicker crossed his face, an expression I couldn’t quite decipher—sadness or understanding, perhaps both intertwined in that fleeting instant. “I can do that.”

He settled beside me, our shoulders brushing against one another, the contact grounding and warm. We lingered in that shared space, a comfortable silence enveloping us like a gentle embrace, the chaos of the outside world fading into a distant hum. Hours seemed to stretch as we stayed there, without the need for words, allowing the silence to speak what our hearts couldn’t articulate.

As the minutes slipped by, I leaned my head against his shoulder. Dain didn’t move, didn’t flinch, didn’t reach for more. He just stayed, a steadfast presence, and for the first time in what felt like an eternity, the ache inside my chest eased just a little.

Over the next two months, I became acutely aware of the subtle shifts in our dynamic, his effort woven delicately into the fabric of my daily life. It was neither invasive nor overwhelming; he occupied the space beside me as though it had always been his place to fill. 

In the bustling dining hall, he would slide into the seat next to mine, a quiet presence that offered comfort amid the noise. I found myself pushing the food around my tray, a habitual act that had become my new normal. Yet when I did eat, I often found Dain slipping his serving of that one item to my tray.

As we strolled to class, I marveled at how effortlessly we fell into step, our movements syncing like the rhythm of an age-old dance. This camaraderie seemed foreign yet familiar, a paradox that left me breathless, reminding me of the long year spent in silence, where even necessity had been our only shared language. Each shared moment was a gentle reminder of a friendship once lost, now resparking.

Most evenings, as the sun dipped below the horizon and the stars began to flicker into existence, I would find him waiting outside the barracks. Tonight, after our squad's exhilarating victory in Squad Games, his silhouette was a reassuring sight against the backdrop of a darkening sky. 

When I settled beside him, wrapping my cloak tightly around my shoulders to ward off the evening chill, he didn’t turn to meet my gaze immediately. Instead, he offered me half of the apple he had been munching on, a small act that carried a weight of unspoken understanding. 

“I’ll admit it. Violet impressed me with that map,” I said, laughter dancing on my lips as I took a bite, the crisp sweetness mingling with the satisfaction of victory. 

“It was reckless, but Sawyer filled me in. It was impressive how they pulled it off,” he replied, his tone thoughtful as we drifted into a comfortable silence, the kind that spoke volumes without the need for words.

“Have you always been this patient with broken people?” I finally asked, my gaze drifting to the constellations above, stars twinkling like distant hopes. 

“Only those who still know how to fight,” he said, a hint of something deeper lacing his words, a testament to our shared resilience. 

“I’m trying,” I said, a soft smile gracing my lips, feeling the weight of the past begin to lift, if only slightly. 

“You’re doing better than trying,” he assured me, and as I glanced sideways at him, I noticed the moonlight softened the lines of his face, revealing a man who was becoming less guarded and more sincere with every passing moment. 

“We were never supposed to be like this,” I murmured.

Dain paused, the silence stretching like the fabric of time itself before he responded, “I know. But maybe that’s the point.” 

I raised a brow, curiosity piquing within me. “What is?” 

“That we were both wrong about a lot of things. Maybe this is the part where we start getting it right.” 

In that quiet moment, there were no grand declarations, no confessions spilling from our lips. Just the flicker of hope, of something slowly mending between us, a fragile connection waiting to be nurtured. And when Dain’s fingers brushed against mine, I found I didn’t want to pull away.

“Stop making me chase you,” Dain gasps, his breath coming in heavy bursts as he drops onto the grass beside me in the courtyard, the morning sun casting a warm glow over everything. 

“Stop being slow,” I shoot back, a playful grin spreading across my face as I slow my own breathing, the remnants of our sprint still coursing through my veins. The grass beneath us is cool and inviting, the kind of grass that begs you to lie back and lose yourself in the blue sky above.

“You are the fastest runner in the quadrant, Wren. I’m average,” he retorts, his brow glistening with sweat, the exertion leaving him breathless yet undeniably charming.

“Whatever you say, Aetos,” I reply with a laugh, turning my head to look at him. Our eyes meet, and in that instant, something flutters deep inside my chest, a reaction I can’t quite place but can’t ignore either.

“Are you excited for Montserrat tomorrow?” he asks, his voice dropping to a more intimate tone that pulls me in closer.

“Kinda. Are you?” I ask, shifting to sit up fully, the moment feeling charged with unspoken possibilities.

“I am. But not because we get to go to an outpost, or because of the real experience.” Dain sits up beside me, and I feel the air thicken with the closeness between us, his presence almost magnetic. “But because I get to go with you.”

The weight of his words settles in the air, unmistakable in their sincerity. My pulse quickens, a rhythmic drumbeat echoing in my ears as I struggle to find my voice. “Dain…”

“I know,” he interjects softly, a look of understanding in his eyes that makes my heart race even faster. “I know you’re still getting over him. And I’m not asking for anything you’re not ready to give. But if you let me—I’ll make this mean something.”

“This is insane,” I laugh nervously, the enormity of our shift in friendship flooding my mind. “I still hated you three months ago, and now we’re best friends and—”

“Everything feels different?” Dain asks, and I nod slowly, my heart swelling with the truth of it. “I think it’s a good different.”

“Me too,” I whisper, the weight of our breaths mingling in the space between us. “Dain…” 

“Tell me to stop and I will,” he offers, his eyes searching mine for an answer. 

“Don’t,” I breathe, and in that moment, everything shifted.

“Welcome, cadets. I’m sure you’d all like to get settled and into something a little more appropriate to the climate. Then we’ll show you around Montserrat.” The commander’s voice rings out with authority, his professional smile contrasting sharply against the sprawling backdrop of Montserrat as we land, the ground firm beneath our boots.

There's an uneven count of boys and girls in our squad, so Dain and I decided to share a room. A strange comfort settles in my chest at the thought, a subtle warmth that unfurls between us as we head inside the humble barracks.

“Do you remember the first time we met?” Dain asks, his voice light, almost teasing, as we begin to unpack our bags, the sound of zippers and rustling fabric blending into the chorus of cadets settling in around us.

I chuckle, the memory fluttering to life. “When Violet dragged me from the front gates to that cove where you ignored me for the first week?” I laugh, warmth flooding my cheeks as nostalgia washes over me. “I wonder if that cove is still there.”

Dain grins, the sunlight catching the edges of his features, illuminating the mischief in his eyes. “I think we get a free day in a couple of days; we’ll have to go check.” His offer hangs in the air, the promise of shared adventures igniting a spark of excitement within me. “You can use the bathroom first.”

I thank him, grateful for the small courtesy, and make my way to change into my summer leathers. The heat envelops me like an old friend, a stark reminder of the twelve long years since my mother was stationed here.

Once changed, Dain and I knock on the doors of our squad, rallying everyone for the much-anticipated tour. 

“As you can see,” Major Quade announces, his voice cutting through the chatter as we gather in the middle of the muddy courtyard, “we’re built for siege.” The seriousness of his tone lingers as he gestures around us, the fortifications standing tall and resolute. “In the event of an attack, we can feed and house everyone within for an adequate amount of time.” 

My gaze drifts to Ridoc, who whispers something to Violet, her laughter bubbling just beneath the surface before she catches Dain’s and my eyes. The moment fades, her smile evaporating as she wrestles with the weight of our surroundings. 

“As one of the eastern outposts, we have a full twelve riders stationed here…” Major Quade continues, but I find my focus slipping, the energy around us shifting as anticipation builds, marking the air with an electric charge. 

“What is that look for?” Dain whispers, and I catch a hint of concern in his eyes. 

“What look?” Violet replies, confusion dancing across her features. 

“That should be one of our patrols returning now,” Quade announces, his words drowned by the thunderous roar of a dragon echoing off the walls around us, a sound that sends shivers down my spine.

“The one where someone just sucked the joy out of your world,” Dain responds, his voice barely above a whisper as he leans in closer, a shadow of concern flickering across his face. The air between us seems thick with unspoken memories, intertwining the three of us in a moment of shared reflection. 

“I was just remembering the two people I used to climb trees with, that’s all.” Violet’s words hang in the air, tinged with nostalgia that feels palpable, almost heavy. Dain and I halt mid-step, glancing at one another. Her voice, warm and reminiscent, laces through the tense atmosphere, yet the beauty of her memories sharpens the edges of my own. While she and Dain reminisce about the sun-drenched afternoons spent among the branches, I feel the shadows of my past creeping in, uninvited. The laughter and joy they recall stand in stark contrast to the bad memories that cloud my mind from just before I left, leaving a bitter taste that’s hard to swallow.

“So we’ll get you riders fed and put to bed, and then we’ll work on who you’ll be shadowing while you’re here,” Quade’s voice cuts through the moment, grounding us in the present with its authoritative assurance. 

“Will we get to participate in any active scenarios?” Heaton asks from behind me, his eager tone crackling with excitement.

“Absolutely not!” Devera snaps, her sharp response slicing through the camaraderie we’re building.

“If you see combat, then I’ve failed as this being the safest place on the border to send you,” Quade reassures us, a hint of playfulness creeping into his tone. “But you get bonus points for enthusiasm. Let me guess. Third-year?” 

Heaton nods eagerly, enthusiasm bubbling around him.

Quade’s gaze shifts slightly, a smile breaking across his face as he acknowledges three indistinct figures clad in rider black as they emerge beneath the towering portcullis. “There they are now. Why don’t you three come and meet—” 

“Violet?” The call cuts through the air, and in an instant Violet is enveloped in her older sister’s arms. 

I feel a sigh escape my lips, bracing myself for a repeat in the usual questions. Their reunion is genuine, a tender display of affection that stirs a mixture of warmth and anxiety within me. 

“You’re all right.” Mira’s voice is steady, laced with an underlying concern. “You’re all right, aren’t you?” 

I watch as they exchange knowing glances, searching for injuries masked by small smiles that speak of past worries. 

“I’m fine.” Mira promises, her expression softening before her smile brightens into a playful grin. “And look at you! You didn’t die!” 

“I didn’t die!” Violet laughs, a bright sound that dances through the air, mingling with the happiness radiating from her sister. “You’re not an only child.” 

Imogen can’t help but sneer, watching the two girls. “Sorrengails are weird.” 

“You have no idea.” Dain replies, a broad smile forming as he takes in the joyful spectacle of the sisters before us.

“Shut up, Aetos,” Mira barks with another laugh, the sound bubbling from her like the gentle waves lapping against the shore, before her eyes land on mine. “Holy shit.”

“Hey Mira.” I manage a smile, but the warmth doesn't quite reach my eyes as I instinctively keep my relic-covered arm tucked safely behind Dain, a makeshift shield against the inevitable deluge of questions that I’d rather avoid just a little longer.

In an instant, Mira closes the distance between us, her arms enveloping me in a fierce embrace that is reminiscent of the tight hug she had given Violet just moments earlier. The warmth of her presence is both comforting and overwhelming. “I was sorry to hear about your dad and the rebellion. I never would’ve expected that,” she whispers, her voice softened by genuine concern.

“You wouldn’t be the first,” I sigh, the weight of my memories pressing down on my chest like a leaden shroud.

Mira steps back just enough to scrutinize me, her gaze shifting as she adopts her protective big sister demeanor. “You’re still our Little Bird? No vendetta against our family?” she questions, an edge of seriousness lacing her voice.

“None, I promise. It was Dain’s dad that dragged my father in.” I offer a small smile, hoping it eases the tension rippling between us.

“Damn, Aetos. Can’t win, can you?” Mira smirks, casting a glance at Dain, who stands awkwardly nearby.

“Ask him why we weren’t on civil speaking terms until January this year,” I laugh, crossing my arms as I turn my focus to him, the playful banter lifting the heaviness, even if just slightly.

Dain feigns offense, a hand dramatically pressed against his chest. “I’ve apologized for those transgressions.”

“You said my father deserved it,” I retort, raising an eyebrow, and I can see the flicker of indignation in Mira’s eyes as she appears ready to unleash a verbal onslaught in my defense.

“I’m sorry, okay?” Dain groans, rolling his eyes in exasperation. “How many times do I have to say it?”

“If I was her, I’d have you on your knees licking my boots clean as an apology,” Mira grins, wrapping an arm over my shoulder and pulling Violet in as well, their laughter spilling into the air like a melody. “Now, fill me in.” 

I can’t remember the last time I breathed normally in the last twelve hours. My chest feels tight, constricted by the weight of anticipation and the remnants of adrenaline coursing through my veins. Dain and I snuck out to the cove after dinner, a feat I still can’t believe he agreed to, the thrill of our adventure swirling in my mind like the saltwater mist that clung to our skin. The moon hung high, casting a silvery glow over the dark water, illuminating the glint of mischief in Dain’s eyes as we shared whispered laughter beneath the stars. Yet, the moment we returned, the exhilaration faded, replaced by the palpable tension of coming face to face with Xaden, who I wasn't supposed to see for another five days.

“Deep breaths,” Dain muttered to me as we walked towards the briefing room, his voice low and steady, yet I could hear the edge of worry in it. The weight of what lay ahead loomed large, amplified by our earlier two-hour patrol with Mira’s team and our unexpected visitor whose presence felt like an electric current in the air.

“So all we do is wait for something to happen?” Ridoc leaned back in his chair on my left, his feet propped carelessly on the table, a gesture of defiance against the seriousness of the moment. I reached over, shoving his boots off the polished surface as Mira’s voice cut through the tension.

“Yes, and keep your feet off the table,” she commanded, her tone leaving no room for argument.

Out of the corner of my eye, I caught Xaden’s gaze on me—a storm brewing within his onyx eyes, a tempest of sadness and anger that threatened to engulf us both. Dain’s snide comments floated like dissonant notes in the air, while Violet’s unwavering attention on Xaden pushed me closer to the edge, each heartbeat resonating with unspoken words and unresolved feelings.

“Consider this your Battle Brief,” Mira said, her gaze darting pointedly at Ridoc before she continued. “This morning was about a quarter of the patrol we’d regularly fly, so normally we’d just be getting back about now and reporting our findings to the commander.” The words hung heavily in the air, a reminder of the weight we bore as we awaited the storm on the horizon. “But for the sake of killing time, since we’re in this room as the reaction flight for this afternoon, let’s pretend we’d come across a newly fortified enemy outpost crossing our border.” She turned towards the map, her fingers deftly sticking a pin with a small crimson flag near one of the peaks about two miles from the Cygnisen borderline. “Here.” 

“We’re supposed to pretend it just popped up overnight?” Emery asked, skepticism threading through his voice. 

“For the sake of argument, third-year.” Mira narrowed her eyes on him.

“I like this game,” a voice cut through the murmur of speculation, the speaker lounging with a casual confidence at the far end of the table. The Montserrat rider laced his fingers behind his neck, his body language radiating a nonchalance that felt almost jarring given the tension simmering in the room.

“What would our objective be?” Mira’s eyes flitted around the table, landing on each of us like a hawk assessing its next target. “Aetos?” she suggested, the name hanging in the air like a challenge.

Dain, previously glowering across the table at Xaden, startled as though jolted from a trance. He turned his focus to the map sprawled out before us, the inked lines and markings mapping out a world that felt both distant and incredibly close. “What type of fortifications are there? Are we talking about a haphazard wooden structure? Or something more substantial?” His voice was laden with concern, as if he could already envision the implications of either scenario.

“Like they had time to build a fortress overnight,” Ridoc muttered, his tone dripping with skepticism. “It has to be wooden, right?” His arms crossed defiantly over his chest.

“You are all so fucking literal,” Mira sighed, rubbing her thumb over her forehead in frustration. The sigh was heavy, as if the weight of our inexperience was pressing down on her. “Fine, let’s say they occupied a keep that’s already established. Stone and all.” 

“But the civilians didn’t call for help?” Quinn interjected, her voice tinged with apprehension. “Protocol calls for a distress signal this far into the mountains. They should have lit their distress beacon, alerting patrolling riders. The very riders in this room would have mounted first as the reaction force.” Her gaze darted around the table, seeking affirmation of her logic.

Mira scoffed, leaning forward with her hands braced against the polished surface, her intensity almost palpable. “Everything you’re taught at Basgiath is theory. You analyze past attacks and learn those very… theoretical combat maneuvers. But things out here don’t always go according to plan. So why don’t we talk about all the ways things can go sideways? You’ll need to know what to do when they do, as opposed to arguing that the keep shouldn’t have fallen.” 

Quinn shifted her weight uncomfortably, a flicker of doubt crossing her features. 

“How many of you have been called out as third-years?” Mira’s voice sliced through the quiet, her posture straightening as she folded her arms over her black leathers, the strap that held her sword to her back resting against her. 

Emery and Xaden raised their hands in response, the moment brimming with a mix of pride and trepidation.

Dain looks like his head is about to explode, frustration etching lines across his forehead. “That’s not correct. We’re never called into service until graduation.” His voice trembles slightly, an edge of desperation lacing his words as he grips the edge of the table, knuckles whitening with his grip.

“Yeah, all right,” Emery interjects with a light-hearted laugh, his tone almost playful. “Just wait until next year. I can’t count how many times we’re the ones sitting in these very rooms in the midland forts because their riders have been called to the front for an emergency.” The room buzzes with a nervous energy as Emery’s words hang in the air, and Dain’s face drains of color, the implications settling heavily in the silence that follows.

“Now that’s settled.” Mira, unperturbed by the brewing tension, leans down beneath the table and pulls out a carefully crafted set of models, the soft sound of wood sliding against wood barely audible over the distant rumble of thunder. She places a six-inch stone keep in the center of the table, its miniature walls stark against the polished surface. “Catch.” One by one, she tosses painted wooden models of dragons at us, the vivid colors glinting under the flickering candlelight, each dragon a representation of our potential. She keeps one for herself, a symbol of her authority, a reminder of her experience.

“Pretend Messina and Exal don’t exist back there, and we’re the only squad available to take back that keep,” she instructs, her voice firm but imbued with a spark of excitement. “Think of the power in this room. Consider what each individual rider brings to the table and how you’d use those powers in unison to conquer your objective.” Her eyes darted from one face to another, seeking engagement, igniting the spark of creativity.

“But they don’t teach that to first-years,” Liam says slowly from the other side of Dain, his brows knitted in contemplation. The gravity of Mira's challenge seems to seep into the room, wrapping around us like a thick fog.

“They might not teach you this battle strategy as first-years because you’re all busy trying to stay on your dragons,” Mira counters, her tone shifting to one of understanding. “You had your first taste of strategy during the Squad Battle, and it’s almost May, which means final War Games should be beginning, right?” 

“Two weeks,” Dain answers, a hint of resignation creeping into his voice. He tries to mask the fact that he’s stressed about it but it’s been obvious for weeks.

“Good timing, then. Not all of you will survive the games if you’re not prepared.” She holds my gaze for a beat, an unspoken challenge lingering in the air. “This kind of thinking will give your squad—your entire wing—an advantage, since I guarantee your wingleader is already assessing every rider for their own abilities.” 

Xaden flips his dragon model over his knuckles, his movements smooth and deliberate, yet he remains silent, the weight of his presence filling the space like an unresolved equation, his unspoken thoughts swirling around him like the storm clouds gathering outside.

“So let’s do this.” Mira’s voice sliced through the tension like a blade, and she stepped back, allowing the atmosphere to shift, anticipation crackling like static in the air. “Who is in command?” Her eyes, sharp as a hawk’s, darted toward Quinn, whose brow furrowed in contemplation. “And let’s pretend that I don’t have three years of seniority on even the highest-ranked of you.” The challenge hung heavily, each word a vibrant stroke on the canvas of their collective determination.

“Then I’m in command.” Dain straightened in his chair, the determination etched into his features. His chin rose a good inch, as if lifting it higher would somehow elevate his authority above all else.

“Our wingleader is here,” Liam interjected, his finger pointing decisively at Xaden, whose presence loomed like a storm cloud. “I would say that puts him in command.”

“Hey Liam,” I chimed in, finally breaking free from the weight of my thoughts that clung to me like a second skin. The shadows in the room seemed to shift as I focused on the banter.

“Yes Wrennie?” He turned, a hint of mischief lighting his features.

I rolled my eyes, exasperation bubbling to the surface. “Shut the fuck up.” 

“We can pretend I’m not here, just for the sake of the exercise.” Xaden’s voice was calm, a soothing balm against the rising tension. He set his intricately painted dragon model on the table, the colors vibrant against the polished wood, and leaned back in his chair, draping his arm across the back of mine. The gesture stirred a palpable discomfort in Dain, whose teeth ground together, frustration clear in the tightness of his jaw. “Give Aetos here the position we all know he craves.”

“You’re. The. Wingleader.” Dain’s words were a low growl, each syllable escaping through clenched teeth.

“I’m not even supposed to be here.” Xaden shrugged, a casual dismissal of the gravity that clung to the moment. “But if it makes you feel better, for the purpose of War Games, you’d be getting your orders from your section leader, Garrick Tavis, which he’d get from me. You’ll be carrying out your maneuvers as a squad for the good of the wing. Just pretend I’m another member of your squad and use me as you wish, Aetos.” He slouched into his chair, an air of nonchalance settling around him.

I glanced at Mira, whose raised brows mirrored my own curiosity, the tension thickening with unspoken questions. “Why are you even here?” Dain challenged, leaning in as if to bridge the distance between them. “No offense, sir, but we weren’t exactly expecting senior leadership on this trip.” 

“You’re more than aware that Sgaeyl and Tairn are mated.” 

“Three days?” Dain shot back, intensity sparking in his eyes as he leaned closer. “You couldn’t make it three days?” 

“It has nothing to do with him,” I interrupted, my voice firm as I set my dragon down with a little more force than necessary, the sound echoing through the air like a call to arms. “That’s up to Tairn and Sgaeyl.”

“Yea, keep defending him, Violet.” I scoff, my voice dripping with sarcasm as I cross my arms over my chest, leaning back in my chair in defiance. The wood creaks under my weight, a familiar sound that mingles with the tension hanging in the air like a low-hanging fog.

Dain, unable to hide his disdain, hurls a hurt glare at Violet, his expression sharp enough to cut. “Though how you could forget that he wanted you dead six months ago just to destroy your friend’s relationship for a quick fuck is still beyond me.” His words pierce through the room, creating an uncomfortable silence that stretches like an elastic band ready to snap.

Violet blinks at him, her surprise evident, the color draining from her cheeks as she processes the accusation. “I cannot believe you went there.” Her voice is a mixture of disbelief and hurt, the weight of the past crashing into the present like a tidal wave.

“Good job remaining professional, Aetos.” Xaden's tone is laced with mockery as he scratches the relic on his neck, a gesture I know is more for show than necessity. His eyes glint with amusement, challenging Dain’s authority while effortlessly holding the room's attention. “Really shows those leadership qualities to their best advantage.”

A low whistle cuts through the tension, one of the riders down the table leaning forward with a playful grin. “Do you boys just want to whip it out and measure? It would be faster.” His jest provokes muffled laughter, and Liam struggles to suppress his mirth, his shoulders shaking in barely contained amusement.

“Enough!” Mira’s voice reverberates as she slams her hands on the table, the sharp sound breaking the levity and drawing all eyes to her. The playful spirit quickly dissipates, replaced by a steely resolve.

“Oh, come on, Sorrengail,” the rider whines, a wide smile plastered across his face. “I mean…the older Sorrengail. This is the best entertainment we’ve had in ages.” 

Mira narrows her eyes, undeterred. “Tavis, you’re highly praised for your strategy skills. Why don’t you be in command as the third highest ranked individual here?” She offers, redirecting the conversation with purpose, her voice firm yet smooth.

“Mira, you can shield even with the wards down, right?” I interject, glancing at her for confirmation. She nods, her expression focused. “I’d have you scout the area with Teine. We need to know if we're against Infantry or gryphon flyers.”

“Good,” she replies, determination seeping into her tone as she drops her dragon next to the makeshift outpost on the map, a visual testament to our shared resolve. “Let’s assume there are gryphons.”

“Quinn, can you astral project from the back of your dragon?” I ask, my mind racing ahead as strategies form like constellations in the night sky.

“Yes,” she answers confidently, a spark of determination in her eyes.

“Then Quinn can project into the fortress to look for any weaknesses while Liam uses his farsight to locate where the gryphon flyers are and if there are any traps.” I ordered, the clarity of our mission sharpening with each word as I worked through our strengths, formulating a plan that could mean the difference between victory and defeat.

“The weaknesses are the wooden gate and the Navarrian citizens they have captive in the dungeons,” Mira states, her voice heavy with the weight of the situation. The words hang in the air, a stark reminder of the stakes at play. 

“So much for blasting the whole place,” Ridoc groans, his frustration palpable as he leans back in his chair, the wood creaking beneath him. His fingers drum against the table, each tap a reflection of the battle brewing within him.

“I wouldn’t have done that anyway. There’s always a chance of captives. You can’t go everywhere attacking first and asking questions later.” I let out a weary sigh, my breath barely breaking the tension that envelops us like a shroud. My mind races, recalling each member of our team, each unique talent we possess. “Emery is an air wielder, so you can control where your dragon’s fire goes, right?” I direct my inquiry toward him, my eyes searching for certainty.

“I’d have to be in the keep,” he replies, his brow furrowed with concern.

“Then you’ll have to get into the keep,” Mira says with a casual shrug, though her eyes betray the gravity of the task at hand. 

Emery’s eyes widened in disbelief. “You want me to leave my dragon and go on foot?” His voice quivers, reflecting the fear of vulnerability.

“Why do you think we get all that hand-to-hand training? Or are you going to leave all those innocent people to die?” Mira’s voice is steady, her resolve unwavering. With a flick of her wrist, she sends Emery’s dragon soaring from his grip, guiding it deftly into her own. It glides effortlessly and lands in the center of the keep, a silent testament to our intentions. “The real question is, how do we get you close enough without getting you killed?” She scans the table. “Since I’m guessing the others will be busy fighting off the gryphons that launch once the fireworks start,” she adds.

“What’s your signet, Aetos?” Quinn asks, her curiosity piqued.

“Above your pay grade,” Dain replies curtly. 

“Xaden’s at our disposal, right?” Mira’s nod sends a sense of relief rippling through me, yet I can’t shake the anxiety clinging to my thoughts. “Then I’d have him black out the area with his shadows so no one sees us land.” 

Dain’s expression shifts to one of disbelief as he glances at Xaden. “You can do that?” 

“Are you seriously asking?” Xaden retorts, a smirk tugging at his lips.

“Just wasn’t sure you could cover an area that—” 

Before he can finish, Xaden lifts a hand a few inches above the table, and shadows surge from beneath our seats, engulfing the room in a darkness that swallows every glimmer of light. 

“Not scared of my shadows still are you, Little Bird?” A single tendril of darkness curls around my neck, and I can’t help but gasp, my chair scraping against the floor as I instinctively pull away. The shadows dissipate, but the lingering chill of his power remains.

“I can surround this entire outpost, but I think that might freak some people out,” Xaden says, his voice laced with a hint of mischief. The shadows that had wrapped around us like a thick fog suddenly retreated, racing back under the table and dissipating into nothingness. 

“Wren? You okay?” Dain’s voice cuts through the lingering tension, his concern palpable as he leaps to his feet and positions himself directly in front of me. His hands grasp my arms gently, but the warmth of his touch feels electric, an anchor amidst the chaos swirling in my mind. I try to form a coherent response, but the word escapes my lips fractured and breathless. “Fine,” I manage, almost a gasp, as I struggle to steady my racing heart.

“Good job,” Mira finally interjects, her tone more measured as she glances at the elegant pocket watch nestled against her uniform. The silver chain glimmers in the dim light of the room, a reminder that time is slipping away. “Aetos, Tavis, Riorson, and Sorrengail, I want to see you in the hallway.” Her authoritative voice brooks no dissent, and the air thickens with a sense of urgency as she strides towards the spiral staircase. “The rest of you are dismissed.” 

Dain and I exchange uneasy glances, then follow her lead.

As Mira shuts the door behind us, a surge of blue energy ripples through the air, enveloping the entrance in a shimmering barrier. “Sound shield,” Dain remarks with a smile, his eyes glinting with approval. “Nice.” 

“Shut up.” Mira spins on the top step, her finger stabbing the air in front of Dain with a fierce intensity. “I don’t know what bug has crawled up your ass, Dain Aetos, but have you forgotten that you’re a squad leader? That you have a very real chance of becoming a wingleader next year?” The fury in her voice crackles like static, and I can feel the heat radiating from her. “Mira—” Dain begins, but she cuts him off with a fierce glare.

“Lieutenant Sorrengail,” Mira retorts sharply, her words sharp as a dagger. “You’re blowing it, Dain. I know how badly you want his job next year.” She points accusingly at Xaden, the tension between them palpable. “Don’t forget that we’ve grown up about ten feet apart. And you are blowing it, because what? You’re pissed that Violet bonded his dragon’s mate?” The air thickens with unspoken challenges, each word hanging heavy as we brace ourselves for the confrontation unfolding before us.

“It’s more so the kind of person she’s turning out to be because of it,” I mumbled, the weight of the words hanging heavy in the air, thickening the tension that crackled around us like static electricity.

“Something to say, Cadet Tavis?” Mira’s sharp gaze pinned me in place, her tone laced with an authority that was hard to ignore.

“Why don’t you ask your sister why a seven-year-long relationship isn’t together anymore?” I shot back, my eyes narrowing as I glared at the younger Sorrengail, who looked ready to explode.

“It was Tairn and Sgaeyl!” Violet shouted, her voice a mix of indignation and hurt, echoing against the stark walls that seemed to close in on us.

“Learn to shield better then!” I snapped, frustration boiling over. “Because Xaden never had an issue blocking them out before you showed up.”

“I hate to break it to you, Wrenley, but no one cares what the signetless EO of Flame Section thinks,” Violet retorted, her bravado wavering under the weight of our unresolved tensions.

“Wanna play with fire, Cadet Sorrengail? You forget who outranks who here,” I countered, a mixture of anger and hurt flaring within me, igniting the air between us.

“Enough,” Xaden interjected, but our bickering over powers it.

“You broke up with him,” Violet replied, her tone tinged with a mixture of defiance and sorrow.

“You kissed my boyfriend! Tell me how you’d stay with someone if they did that,” I snapped, the words bursting forth before I could rein them in. “Oh wait, you didn’t when—”

“That’s enough!” Xaden’s tone was commanding, drowning out my hurt-fueled tirade.

“Fuck you, Riorson.” I turned to him, my emotions boiling over. “Why don’t you go back to never being around instead of always being where I am?”

“That’s enough from all of you,” Mira ordered, stepping closer, the intensity of her presence compelling me to step back instinctively into Dain. His hands found my hips, steadying me, a silent promise of support. 

“Whatever is going on between the four of you,” she said, her finger slicing through the air as she pointed between Violet, Xaden, Dain, and me, “is fucking up your squad. If I can see it after four days with you, then they sure as hell can tell.” 

She glanced at me, then back at Dain, her expression a mix of frustration and concern. “You two have been best friends since you were five years old.” Her gaze shifted to the others, “You three were inseparable for five years. But you two,” she gestured at Xaden and me, “I don’t even know how long you’ve known each other.”

“Our entire lives,” Xaden replied, his eyes locked onto Dain’s hands resting protectively on me.

“Whatever. Just figure your shit out.” The finality in her voice left no room for argument. We all nodded, a reluctant agreement forming in the air. “Good, now get back in there.” With a slight nod of her head towards the door, Dain and I left.

I barely made it back to our room before my knees buckled beneath me, a sudden wave of exhaustion crashing over me. I slid down the cool wall, my back pressed against the sturdy bed frame, seeking some semblance of stability in the chaos that had consumed my mind. My hands trembled uncontrollably, a betrayal of the storm roiling within me.

I don’t want to cry. I want to scream. But my body had other plans, as if it was an entity of its own, intent on releasing the pent-up anguish I fought so hard to contain. The air around me felt thick and suffocating, the walls of our small room pressing in, amplifying the weight of my despair. My breath hitched, then broke entirely — a jagged sob tearing loose from my throat, echoing in the silence like a haunting melody of despair. 

I can’t breathe. My lungs constricted painfully, and my fingers clawed at my collarbone, as if I could dig deeper into my own flesh to unearth the air I desperately sought. The edges of my vision blurred, a hazy fog creeping in as my heart pounded violently against my ribcage, each beat a reminder of the overwhelming panic that threatened to swallow me whole. 

Desa’s ever-present voice pleaded with me from the depths of my consciousness, but her words faded into a distant murmur as the world began to dim. Just as darkness threatened to consume me, a hand found mine, grounding me in the moment.

“Wren. Hey. Wrenley—look at me.” Dain’s voice sliced through the chaos, low and urgent, steady yet muffled, a beacon of light in the suffocating shadows. His hands cupped my face, warm and gentle, his thumbs brushing softly beneath my eyes, wiping away the remnants of my turmoil. I struggled to focus, the panic blurring my reality.

“Breathe with me, okay? In. Out.” 

I shook my head violently, gasping for words that wouldn’t come. “I—can’t—”

“Hey,” he coaxed again, his presence looming closer, his forehead pressing gently against mine. “I’m right here. You’re not alone.” 

I squeezed my eyes shut, fighting against the rising tide of despair, desperately anchoring myself to the sound of his voice. Just as I felt the world begin to tear me apart, a kiss anchored me — a soft, reassuring press of lips against mine. It was an unhurried moment, a promise whispered without words.

When our lips finally broke apart, a lingering warmth enveloped me, but the tears still cascaded down my cheeks as my breath steadied. The world, once chaotic and overwhelming, began to carve out a small sanctuary where Dain and I existed, tethered to each other by the frayed ends of our turmoil.

“I’m sorry,” I whispered, my voice barely audible, a fragile admission that trembled in the air.

“Don’t you dare,” he retorted softly, his thumb brushing against my cheek, tenderly sweeping away a strand of hair that clung stubbornly to my face, soaked with emotion. “You don’t have to be sorry for having feelings.” 

His words wrapped around my heart, momentarily easing the throbbing ache that had taken residence there. I leaned into him, my forehead resting against the comforting solidity of his shoulder, inhaling the familiar scent of him — a mixture of earth and warmth that grounded me amidst the swirling chaos. Then came the harsh reality crashing back. 

“The wards are down.” Deasa’s clear voice came through.

“Shit,” Dain muttered, the urgency snapping him back to attention. He reluctantly pulled away, his hands lingering on my arms, as if he were reluctant to sever the bond we had just forged in that brief moment of intimacy. “We have to go. Are you going to be okay?”

I nodded, the gravity of the situation hardening my resolve as I scrambled to gather my belongings, my fingers brushing over my gear with a newfound determination. Dain led me up the stairs, his presence a beacon guiding me through the chaos that roared just beyond our small bubble. 

As we reached the top floor, the air crackled with tension. I could hear Violet’s voice rising in protest, an argument punctuated by Xaden’s commanding tones. The familiar blend of camaraderie and discord filled the air, grounding me in the reality of our situation.

“Ridoc and Quinn are already in the air,” Liam reported, his voice taut with urgency as we stepped further into the chaos.

“You’re next.” Xaden’s order was unyielding, a clear demand that left no room for dissent. Liam didn’t hesitate, taking off in a flash of motion and mounting Deigh. Desa followed after he took off.

“Your turn, Wren.” Dain’s push was gentle yet firm, propelling me forward, but instinctively I turned back, the weight of responsibility settling over me like a heavy cloak.

“No, I’m leadership. We need to get the first-years up first,” I insisted, a stubbornness rising within me, fueled by a fierce sense of duty. 

“Get on the damn dragon, Little Bird,” Xaden growled, his voice low and dangerous, a warning that churned my stomach with its intensity. “Aetos, you’re after her.” 

“Vi—” Dain began, but Xaden’s sharp gaze silenced him.

“I got her. Now go!” he ordered, an unyielding command that brooked no argument.

next part

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Chasing Shadows Taglist: @hiraethjules @fangirling-galore @sande5098 @javden @littlepippilongstocking @what-will-be-your-verse @xadenstyles @daisydark @messageforthesmallestman

also send me asks with reactions, theories, complete unhingedness! I loved the ones I got after THREE and would love to make it a regular thing!

[bitterkarella]

Midnight Pals: Coffee

[at unicorn fuck club] JRR Tolkien: ugh everyday the news is worse and worse! Tolkien: it seems that certain hunnish practices have taken root in America CS Lewis: oh that sounds bad Tolkien: quite!

CS Lewis: look i know times are bad jrrt Lewis: maybe this will cheer you up Lewis: travis baldree is going to be telling his latest story of low stakes and cozy vibes Travis Baldree: i call it Kelpies and Kitchen Implements

Baldree: so this is a story about an orc who decides to retire from the murder business and use the money that she made in the murder business to open a coffee shop Baldree: i know that kind of raises a couple questions right there Baldree: let's just breeze past that

Baldree: cuz, god, the daily grind of adventuring really gets you down Baldree: everyday, you're just slaving away slaying dragons and finding treasure Baldree: God! i'm so BORED of all this peril and excitement! Baldree: i would trade it all for some nice invigorating tedium

Baldree: that's why i decided to open this coffee shop Baldree: [inhaling aroma from freshly brewed coffee] hmm! love that distinctly coffee-like smell of coffee! Baldree: [sipping cup] mm! love that distinctly coffee-like taste of coffee too!

Baldree: you know, after a while, an orc just gets tired of all the adventuring Baldree: cuz you know no one ever told her life was gonna be this way Baldree: your job's a joke, you're broke Baldree: your love life's DOA

Baldree: welcome to Tom Beanbadil Baldree: we have romano, cubano, americano, lothlorieno, and mordoro Baldree: what can i get for you? Tolkien: wow what a quaint little shop! Tolkien: i really like the acoustic pan flute music

Tolkien: uh yeah i would like theeeee Tolkien: the mocha frappacino double dungeon master delight Baldree: whole milk ok? Tolkien: do you have oat milk? Baldree: we have soy Tolkien: Tolkien: uhhhhh GRR Martin: c'mon hurry it up! Martin: we don't have all day!

Baldree: and for the rest of you? CS Lewis: i would like the cinnamon raspberry Obama sonic blast with 12 pumps of syrup Lewis: also i'd like to buy one of these CDs of acoustic pan flute music Baldree: which album? "Rhythms of the River of Life" or "Global Heartsong?"

Tolkien: excuse me where do hey get the coffee beans in this fantasy world? Baldree: i don't know, jrrt, where do they get the taters in middle earth? Tolkien: Tolkien: that's Tolkien: that's different Baldree: is it now?

Baldree: coffee is nice Tolkien: [slowly drifting into contented haze] so nice Baldree: but then there's a mob boss! Tolkien: what!!! Tolkien: ugh! Tolkien: i was told that this would be low stakes! Tolkien: i distinctly heard it would be low stakes!

Baldree: don't worry, you can bribe the mob boss with pastries Baldree: speaking of which do you want a biscotti with your coffee? Tolkien: oh! you know what Tolkien: yes Tolkien: yes i do

Baldree: if you enjoyed this story, be sure to watch for the follow-ups Baldree: tiamats and toaster ovens Baldree: paladins and potholders Baldree: sorcerers and spatulas

[whisperingmidnights]

Tending wounds with dove and Rhys 🤭

Set after this. It does contain some major CS plot spoilers, but I'm assuming if you're trading this, you're fine with that.

"It's healing, my dove," Rhys mumbles, batting at my hands as I apply more salve to the seeping wound on his leg. It's almost like the idiot wants to be in bed for longer than necessary. If he'd just let me do my job- "I hear all of that, by the way."

"Good," I grunt, slapping the back of his hand. "I'm not trying to hide it."

"You're grumpy when you're sleep deprived."

"You'll have to forgive me, Rhysand." My reply is a little too syrupy, and I don't miss the way his eyes focus on my face through the drugged haze of the pain potions he's on. "One of my mates returned to me half-dead, and the other was practically catatonic, while I was here being useless-"

"Not useless," Rhys says sharply, his hand closing around my wrist with surprising speed. I drop the half-empty container of salve on the floor to push him back as he struggles to sit up, not wanting the healing skin along the wound to tear. I can feel his heartbeat against my palm, erratic and fevered as his skin. "You were with our child, holding together the wards around this city. None of that is useless, Dove."

"Don't ruin all of Madja's hard work," I hiss, biting the inside of my cheek to keep from crying. "Or mine." Stubborn bastard male and his pretty words.

"I can still hear that," he tells me, a smile tugging at the corner of his mouth. In spite of his best attempt to look stern, the tension melts away a little too quickly. Like he's too tired to hold onto it. "Put all of that away and come lie down with me."

"I don't want this to get infected-"

"It won't," he says, giving me a sleepy smile even as he shakes his head at my fussing. "You've cleaned and re-cleaned and put salve on that wound every hour on the hour. It will be okay if you take your eyes off of it for a few minutes, I promise."

He's right. I know he's right and I'm hovering, but I'm scared. I'm scared of what will happen if I leave the wound exposed too long. I'm scared of what will happen if I have to stop and sit with my thoughts. I'm afraid of everything, and I have not stopped being afraid since their return.

I pick up the salve and set it to the side, doing as my mate asked. I can feel his surprised relief blooming along our bond as I carefully crawl onto the bed and settle at his side, careful to keep some space between our bodies to avoid pressing up against still healing bruises and lacerations.

My mate is having none of that.

His arm slides beneath my head, allowing him to tug my body firmly against his. He winces like he might regret that move, and I flail for a safe spot to put my hand until he grabs it, resting it against the center of his chest. My mate, my mates, still alive and home with me.

I don't dare ask for more.

[evolxe-domain]

< | >

[slt4kavanagh]

Sorry but can you write a fic about Katie having a close friendship with the boys and girls especially Joey and Aofie who are protective of her , cs yk how in the actual book series it isn't shown much and I just need a fic about them, I've read a few of your fics and they're AMAZING but I've only seen fics of the boys so if you don't write about the girl characters, its okay

wholesome headcanons

pairing: katie wilmot x bot characters

tw: none

a/n: i love women and i love katie. (been a week since i last posted mb guys i’ve had finals and winter sickness finally hit and if it seems like i had no direction in this it’s cause i loved the idea but i had no idea how to word it so i did headcanons instead)

masterlist !

ᯓ★ joey and katie have this easy, sibling-like dynamic. he teases the hell out of her, calls her “kitty kat” in the most obnoxious tone possible, but the second someone else tries it? nah. it’s on sight. only he gets to wind her up like that.

ᯓ★ aoife is her day-one. the kind of best friend who knows katie’s moods just by how she walks into a room. she’s loud and blunt and drags katie into life when she’s too quiet, but never pushes too far. they share snacks, clothes, eye rolls across classrooms. a proper girlhood kind of love.

ᯓ★ joey once saw a lad trying to flirt with katie in the smoking area and without even thinking twice, pulled her into a hug and said “sorry mate, she’s taken — by my patience.” she nearly died laughing, but appreciated the rescue.

ᯓ★ hughie’s mates — specifically johnny, gibsie, and feely — don’t treat katie like a mascot. they treat her like one of them. johnny always offers her his jacket if they’re walking home late, and gibsie insists she sit in the middle seat during group lifts so she doesn’t get squashed.

ᯓ★ aoife and katie have matching bracelets they made one afternoon in a haze of nostalgia. aoife wears hers religiously. katie pretends not to be sentimental about it but would full-on cry if she lost it.

ᯓ★ joey and katie have this unspoken rule where if either of them texts “pub?” the other shows up, no questions asked. even if they just sit in silence or rant for hours, it’s always safe between them.

ᯓ★ during a particularly shit week for katie, the group surprised her with a night in — aoife brought sweets, joey brought dvds, johnny brought a borrowed blanket from his mam’s house. they didn’t say anything dramatic, just sat around her until she felt okay again.

ᯓ★ aoife once decked a girl at a party for talking bad about katie behind her back. no hesitation. katie didn’t even know until days later when she overheard someone whisper, “don’t fuck with red, she’s got that molloy girl in her corner.”

ᯓ★ katie’s the quiet heart of the group. the one who remembers birthdays, notices when someone’s off, and checks in later with a simple “you alright?” that somehow always hits harder than a whole lecture.

ᯓ★ when katie finally starts standing up for herself more — speaking louder, laughing bigger — joey gets weirdly emotional about it. “look at you,” he teases, voice soft. “fuckin’ powerhouse.”

ᯓ★ aoife is always the first to clock when something’s off with katie, especially when it comes to hughie. she doesn’t pry, but she’ll wordlessly drag her out of the house and feed her curly fries until katie feels like herself again.

ᯓ★ casey is the one who actually listens to katie. like listens. when she says something about feeling small or invisible, casey’s the one who cuts through the noise and reminds her she’s the backbone of their whole group. no katie? no glue.

ᯓ★ katie and podge have a surprisingly gentle friendship. he’s a goof around most people, but with her, he’s calm, a bit older-brotherish. always carries extra tissues in case her anxiety gets bad. never mentions it, just quietly hands them over.

ᯓ★ joey has threatened hughie exactly three times. once with a stare, once with a warning, and once with a flat-out “if you fuck this up, i swear to god.” katie doesn’t know about the last one. hughie never mentioned it.

ᯓ★ deep down, alec’s got a soft spot for katie. she helped him study once — and by helped, she just sat beside him in the library while he muttered about exams — and now he acts like she saved his life.

ᯓ★ casey once told katie, “you’re allowed to want more,” in the middle of a group hangout. it stuck with her way longer than she let on, especially during the rough patches with hughie.

ᯓ★ when katie and hughie fight, she doesn’t usually tell the others. but aoife always knows. “your texts go dead quiet,” she says. “plus hughie gets weird like he’s trying to prove he’s fine.”

ᯓ★ the girls have sleepovers at aoife’s house where they do facemasks and talk about boys and pretend everything’s chill. it’s the only time katie lets herself admit how much she overthinks things — how hard it is to feel like “enough” for someone.

ᯓ★ joey always offers his shoulder when katie needs it. even when she doesn’t ask. even if she’s dating someone else. “you don’t owe anyone sunshine, katie,” he tells her once. “but you deserve to keep some for yourself.”

ᯓ★ podge once tried to set katie up with someone after a rough patch with hughie. it didn’t go anywhere, but it made her laugh — and she really needed that laugh.

ᯓ★ the boys have a code between them — if katie’s upset, they don’t make fun of her. they switch into big-brother mode without a word, and suddenly everyone’s quieter, gentler, less annoying. it’s automatic.

ᯓ★ aoife’s fiercely protective of katie’s softness. she’s the one who says, “you’re not weak for loving him — you’re strong for not letting it turn you cold.”

ᯓ★ hughie’s never had to be loud about love — he just does. when katie’s at his house, her tea is always exactly how she likes it. her playlist’s already on. her favorite crisps are in the drawer. he’s not showy; he just notices.

ᯓ★ he doesn’t say much in groups — especially not around the bcs kids — but katie never feels like an outsider when she’s with him. he always sits close, always leans in when she talks. like the rest of the room fades out a little.

ᯓ★ he’s so good to her without even realising how deeply it lands. if she skips lunch, he splits his sandwich in half without comment. if she’s quiet, he doesn’t ask why — he just reaches over and laces their fingers.

ᯓ★ he’s the kind of boyfriend who’ll hand her a hoodie before she asks. who’ll open his bag and have a cereal bar she likes without mentioning he packed it on purpose. who walks her to class without even thinking about it.

ᯓ★ katie’s never talked about her relationship with food, not out loud. but hughie’s clocked it. and he never pushes — just quietly makes sure there’s always a plate for her, always makes eating feel normal, never a big deal. just “here, eat this.”

ᯓ★ he never makes her feel like she has to perform for him. no makeup? hair messy? pale as paper? he still looks at her like she’s the calmest part of his world. because she is.

ᯓ★ he does love her. he does. he just doesn’t love her the way he loves lizzie. and maybe that’s what messes him up most — because he wants to. he wants to be enough for katie the way she’s enough for him.

ᯓ★ sometimes, after a day with lizzie, he comes back quieter. more distant. but he always holds katie’s hand like he’s sorry, even if he doesn’t know what for.

ᯓ★ he tells her she’s beautiful more through action than words. wipes smudges from her cheeks. tucks her hair behind her ears. zips up her coat when she forgets.

ᯓ★ when she has bad days — the ones where she doesn’t want to be seen — he doesn’t force her out of them. he just holds her hand under the table, gives her space to breathe, lets her come back in her own time.

ᯓ★ lizzie is the storm in his life — sharp, electric, all-consuming. katie is the softness he doesn’t think he deserves. and maybe that’s the problem: he doesn’t think he’s worthy of the good things, so he keeps breaking them.

ᯓ★ his mates at tommen don’t really get how much he cares about katie. because he’s quiet about it. because it’s not the kind of love that shouts — it’s the kind that waits. the kind that hopes.

ᯓ★ but even if he’s in love with someone else, when katie smiles at him like he’s the only boy in the room, he feels it in his ribs. it aches. it aches.

ᯓ★ he never says “i love you” first. but when she says it, he always kisses her knuckles after. it’s the only way he knows how to say it back without lying.

[simplhee]

be my +1

synopsis: when streamer heeplays needs to find a plus one to go with him to the Streamer Awards, what does he do? he makes a google form of course! and what happens when up-and-coming streamer y/n jokingly fills out the form, catching heeseung's attention? stream starting soon: be my +1 !!!

lvl 6. - women in stem ✨ [smau + written 336 words]

========= LIVE =========

as the clock ticked closer to midnight, the dimly lit room was bathed in the purple of LED lights, the soft glow of the streaming setup casting a haze over the cozy space that would be there for the remaining 22 hours. the plush gaming chair was pushed back so that you could sit back down, a drink now in hand as your headset covered your ears once more. chat became even more lively, the ping of donations and new subs joining the chorus of the stream.

🜲 yunjinlover: i am just a partner whose lover has gone out to sea 💔 (you’re just going to school)

pikachuus: we’ll miss you TT

mochimoshi: the loml is leaving me

🜲 chaewonshusband: are the other roomies in uni too?

“yes! all the other roomies except yuqi are in uni right now” a smile on your face as you reminisce on the memory of yuqi’s graduation. some chatters had their fun calling yuqi old before being scolded by the woman herself, a laugh escaping your lips before telling yuqi not to ban anyone.

duckpuck: rip to the one chatter you will be missed 

nightwingsbooty: hella studious 💪

horanghaesssss: what majors are everyone?

“I can’t remember off the top of my head but jen is studying business while the others are cs, engineering, or game design majors…i think. personally i’m ____ which is fun i guess”

🜲 tokkiteok: fun!!!!

ohnaurs: omg women in stem✨

sunshinehoody: do you have a plus one for the streamer awards?

“ahhhh currently no, but honestly i don’t think i’ll have the time to find a date with having to juggle school and everything.”

“but who knows, mayb i will find someone by then”

catluvr: LET ME BE YOUR PLUS ONE 

babyricky: omg wifeyyyyy 😍

hakudragon: you can step on me and i’d say thank you.

“woahhh there chat calm thyself. y’all are SIMPSSSS”

you giggled to yourself as chat tried to fight their simp allegations, “hey you know i’m just kidding chat, n e ways anyone up for some community games?” 

previous ✿ masterlist ✿ next

note: hi y'all sorry for the long wait I was in uni lol

pairing: streamer!heeseung x fem!reader content/genre: strangers to lovers, college au, streamer au, fluff, crack, (potential) angst, smau warning(s): swearing, ignore timestamps taglist is still open !!!

©️ simplhee 2023