#freefall got pulled????

[pinkdean]

We're going back to our roots I've got a fic rec page again babeyyy

[basketball-lesbians]

Stiff

summary: Paige is insecure about the internet's assessment of her strap game, and Azzi helps her remember that she has nothing to worry about.

pairing: Paige Bueckers x Azzi Fudd

contents: smut, fluff, pwp, strap use, oral sex, fingering (once again really its just smut i cannot lie... it gets lowkey disgustingly filthy in a few places. its sweet though, they're idiots in love!)

wordcount: 9076

a/n: Hey guys! Sorry for the long wait between freefall ch 1 and this upload- I got super busy between holidays and personal stuff going on, but I should be more consistent with uploads now. This fic was supposed to be shorter and... then it turned into 9k of filth. No questions at this time. Also, I had a few people ask, so I’m starting to do taglists- so do me a favor and if you’re interested in being included, just comment or message me and I’ll make sure to get you on there for future uploads. Thanks for reading and I hope y’all enjoy!

Theyre positioned on the couch of Paige's apartment in a way that's typical for them; Azzi sitting up with her legs out in front of her, crossed at the ankles while she reads- and Paige strewn out sideways across the other portion of the sectional, her head in Azzi's lap as she scrolls on her phone.

Azzi's right hand falls cyclically to play with the other girls hair in between flipping pages in an effort to keep her content while her focus is split between both her and her book.

Light streams through the window pleasantly, casting a golden glow on everything it touches, and the apartment is quiet- the other girls having gone out to a farmers market earlier in the day and leaving them alone together for the first time in what felt like weeks outside of spending the night in each others’ rooms.

The peaceful sunday afternoon silence they've struck up is rudely interrupted when Paige suddenly groans, rolling onto her side as she drops her phone away from herself like it just offended her, sending it bouncing onto the next couch cushion over. Azzi lets her book drop below her eyeline to look at the other girl, brows raised.

"Um... what was that about?" She asks tentatively, slow to engage for fear of further escalating her already always high energy and cementing the quiet moment they'd just been in as over.

Paige shifts closer to her, wrapping her arms around the younger girls’ waist and burying her face against her stomach, the loose blonde hair left out of her bun to frame her face tickling at the section of midriff exposed by the cropped camisole top the other girl wore under a grey sweat set.

Azzi sighs, setting her book down with the bookmark placed carefully to mark her place, bringing her hands to the girl in her lap fully- one moving to card through her hair and the other to rub her back.

"Hey. What's wrong, honey?" She asks gently, hands soothing in their slow motions. Paige nestles closer to her, holding her tight, her nose brushing the warm skin just above the waistband of Azzi's sweats. Azzi pretends the sensation doesn’t make her feel a little warmer.

"The internet, bro," The blonde finally grumbles, voice muffled where her face is pressed into her girlfriends' torso. Worry rises in Azzi's chest at that, her hands stilling.

"What? What happened?" She asks, pulling at Paige's shoulder to get her to sit up and talk to her. Paige frowns, wrinkling her nose as she obliges the prompt, rolling over to look up at the younger girls’ face from her lap.

Her expression is pathetic- eyebrows drawn together, blue eyes big and lips curled into a pout. Azzi can't help but chuckle at the sight, despite her mind drawing up worst case scenarios like it so often did. Paige groans at Azzi finding humor in the moment, drawing her arm over her face to hide herself in embarrassment.

Azzi smiles fully now, the silly nature of Paige's pouting easing the worry in the back of her mind. She takes in the half-obscured sight in her lap and lets it soothe her, appreciating every visible detail- the sharpness of her jaw, the length of her eyelashes as they rest against her cheeks, the prominence of her nose and cheekbones, the pretty shade of pink that adorns her soft lips.

"Babe, come on. What is it?" She asks, pulling gently at Paige's pale arm.

"You're gonna laugh," Paige whines, bringing her arm down from her face only to draw both of them up over her chest defensively, almost like a little kid would. Azzi rolls her eyes, a smile pulling at the corners of her lips.

"Oh my god, Paige. What is the matter?" She repeats, playful agitation biting at the corners of her tone despite the fact that her dimples give her underlying amusement away.

The older girl sighs dramatically from where she's set in Azzi's lap, waiting in silence for a five count before opening one eye to peep and see if Azzi is still looking, expectant for an explanation. She is. Paige sighs.

"They're sayin' I got stiff hips," She mutters, avoiding Azzi's gaze as the admission slips past her lips. Azzi’s eyes narrow as she furrows her eyebrows confusedly, having not heard her fully.

"They're saying what?" She asks, leaning closer slightly to be able to hear her better. Paige whines, shifting her posture antsily.

"Stiff hips, Az. They're sayin' I got stiff hips." She overenunciates, eyes becoming wide as she explains. Azzi holds her gaze, eyebrows high to match Paige's energy. She holds the expression for as long as she can before breaking, a laugh erupting out of her.

Paige groans yet again, rolling away from her girlfriend like she's trying to slink off the couch and into a puddle on the floor to avoid further embarrassment. Azzi reaches for her, stilling her progress with her hand around the other girls' wrist.

"Oh come on, you big baby," She chides, pulling her back into her lap, cradling her head as she shifts.

"Like they would know, anyway," She dismisses, hands coming up to grab her face, thumb brushing over the the hinge of her jaw as she presses a kiss to her forehead. Paige grins at that, sly and lopsided, holding Azzi's gaze like she's trying to be sure she heard it right.

"Aw, nah?" She smirks up at her, that stupid expression she reserved just for her girlfriend slowly spreading across her face.

Azzi hums. "Unless there's something you're not telling me," She teases, fingers toying with the collar of her crewneck, brushing her collarbones.

Paige smiles dopily, lifting her head and cupping the sides of Azzi's face, pulling her down gently just enough to connect their lips. It's slow and sweet and just a little bit wet, and Paige thinks about all the times they've kissed before and how it's never felt any less perfect than it did the first time.

Seven years later, and she still can't get over the feeling of how Azzi's lips feel against hers.

She shifts to sit up, the movement a little awkward on the way, and comes to settle upright next to the other girl, dominant hand settling just below her hairline on the back of her neck to ease her closer. She moans quietly into the kiss, unable to help herself, and then deepens it- leaning forward and pushing Azzi along with her, putting her on her back.

Azzi's hands meet over the back of the other girls’ neck as she settles over her, her hips snug against the younger girls' with their legs slotted between each other. Azzi bites gently at Paige's lip, and Paige has to choke back a groan as she gives into the chase, letting her tongue dart out to run along the other girls' bottom lip.

Azzi hums before slipping her tongue into her girlfriend's mouth, finding hers and running against it before sucking at it gently, drawing it out. Suddenly, they're pulling apart just enough for Paige to speak, still close enough that their lips to brush when she does.

"F'real though. Y'think I'm stiff?" She asks, her blue eyes full of conviction and concern as they meet Azzi’s once again. Now it’s Azzi’s turn to groan as she rolls her eyes beneath the blonde, much to Paige's dismay.

"Hey! I'm serious, dude," Paige pleads, looking at her girlfriend intently, impatiently awaiting a response. Azzi stays silent, drawing her bottom lip between her teeth as she tilts her head in consideration, hands still interlocked behind the other girls’ head.

"I mean..."

Paige whines, dropping her head to Azzi's chest. Although her intent was pure, she's pleased when her face nestles perfectly between the other girls' breasts, soft warm flesh surrounding her features. She could die here, she thinks.

"Oh come on, I was joking," Azzi says, trying to soften the blow. Her fingers run slowly along the back of her neck, wandering up to toy with the loose hair at the base of her bun.

"S'not funny," Paige defends weakly, speech muffled by the soft skin surrounding her face. Azzi watches her, evaluating for a moment, and then makes up her mind, narrowing her eyes and sucking her teeth as she does.

She sits up, climbing out from under Paige, and Paige looks at her incredulously, already primed to put on a dramatic show of great offense over the fact that the other girl would leave her from their comfortable position on the couch in such a vulnerable time.

She rises to her feet, turning as she outstretches her arm in front of her to hold her hand out, signalling for the other girl to grab it. Paige stares blankly from her place on the couch, unsure of what's happening.

"Come on," Azzi prompts, opening and closing her offered hand to add emphasis to her words. Paige's eyebrows furrow, her hair still tousled from their brief rendezvous seconds ago.

"Huh?" She replies, clueless, neck craning forward and one side of her lip curling as she asks to add emphasis.

Azzi sighs, stepping closer and taking both of Paige's hands into hers. She draws her upright into a sitting position, stepping into the space between where her feet are planted.

This close, Azzi can feel the blonde’s breath tickling at her stomach, her baggy sweatshirts’ zipper fixed low to allow her abs to still show- a decision she made deliberately when she’d put it on this morning.

Paige looks up at where her girlfriend stands above her and can’t help but think that it feels wrong to be in this position and not have her hands free to be able to wrap her arms around the other girl- to slip under her sweatshirt and feel her skin, to wander down and grab at her ass, to pull her into her lap.

"I said," She repeats, eyes locked to Paige's as she presses kisses over the other girls' knuckles, big brown eyes watching carefully with a glint of fire in them as she does it. The blonde holds her breath, lips slightly parted as her gaze drags from Azzi’s eyes to glance at the pink fullness of her lips and back.

"Come," Kiss. "Here," Kiss. "Then." Kiss.

Paige watches cautiously, a feeling that’s a healthy balance of being turned on and a little scared settling in her chest.

"I cant lie... I'm lost, what are we-" Azzi rolls her eyes again, dimples popping as she makes an exasperated face while stepping back, pulling as she goes to bring the taller girl up to stand.

"You're worried about having stiff hips, yeah?" She asks, her voice thick with a flirty tone that the blonde swears wasn’t there only a moment ago.

Paige stands slowly, letting herself be pulled, shrugging and then slowly nodding as she waits for a point to be made. Azzi comes in closer, leaning into Paige’s frame, dropping her hands so that one can settle over her hip, the other on her chest.

Suddenly the blonde is acutely aware of all of the places she can feel the other girl- not the least of which being her leg that brushes against her own as her foot settles between where her own are set, eliminating nearly every bubble of space between them. Paige’s breath feels thick as she breathes out, trying to resist the urge to swallow as she feels the warmth of the other girl braced against her.

"So why don't you come prove it to me that you don't?" Azzi challenges, voice sultry and sweet as she looks up at her, and Paige's jaw almost drops.

Azzi could hold her own, sure. Their little spats and back-and-forth nature were cornerstones of their entire relationship- always had been. They wouldn't be Paige and Azzi without the playful dynamic they always seemed to keep up.

But she was only bold to a point- usually, and for years now, there was a clear line they'd found, a place between gearing up to sex and actually getting there, where Paige had almost always just naturally taken over- at least to initiate things.

It wasn't always that way, per se, but it definitely was more often than not. Between that and the fact that Paige had basically been obsessed with her since she was 16, giving her anything she ever wanted at any indication she wanted it- in moments like these, Azzi had a way of catching her completely off guard.

"Wha- f'real?" Paige asks, frozen in place at the proposition. It was almost always Paige prompting, Paige setting the foundation, Paige leading- Azzi wasn't any less passionate about being intimate, she just liked to be led. And it worked well, because Paige liked to pull her along.

Azzi so openly putting it all on the table on a random Sunday afternoon, (and especially when she had been nose deep in a book less than 10 minutes before) was definitely not something Paige had really anticipated happening. Azzi quirks an eyebrow, digging her heels in.

"Unless you don't think you're up to the task?" She asks, voice donning a kind of feining innocence she only ever put on when she was being especially bratty.

Paige's face flushes at that, never one to give up a challenge- and she's on her feet, grabbing Azzi by the wrist and dragging her to her bedroom, determined to prove herself. Azzi giggles, pleased by the continuation of her perpetual ability to get what she wants from the blonde, and follows, only spurred on by her girlfriends' reaction.

Paige pushes the door closed behind them as soon as they enter the room and immediately grabs for the other girl, pulling her flush against herself by the waist. Azzi leans into the contact as their lips meet, hands coming up to settle on Paige’s chest as she deepens the kiss.

Azzi arches into the way the other girl is holding her, and Paige slips her hands up the back of her sweatshirt, any excuse to feel more of her. She steps them back towards the bed, slowing as she approaches to let Azzi get a feel for where the bed is before they go tumbling onto it.

They do, and Paige is quick to keep things progressing, catching herself with her hands to keep from falling over Azzi and then leaning back on her heels to pull her shirt over her head. Azzi's eyes track the movement carefully, watching her arms flex with the motion and dropping to look at her abs before darting back to her face when she realizes she's been caught.

Ordinarily, Paige would stop and tease, but today she's too eager. Instead, she reaches down, fingers grasping the zipper of Azzi’s sweatshirt, and drags it down, opening access to warm skin beneath it that’s been teasing her all day. She leans back in and nestles into the crook of Azzi's neck, dropping kisses against the soft warm skin there, their bare stomachs pressing against each other with the movement.

Azzi hums as her hands run up Paige’s back, keeping the other girl close and feeling the subtle flexing of the muscle there as she turns her head, kissing the side of Paige’s face where it’s nestled into her neck before pulling her back and recentering her above herself to reconnect their lips.

Paige shifts so one hand can come up between them to Azzi's stomach, pushing under her skin-tight tank top and bunching the small amount of fabric up onto her chest, revealing her abs and breasts. Azzi’s breath hitches at the motion, watching as her hands roam, admiring the contrast of the paleness of her skin against the deepness of her own, blood rushing to her head as she watches Paige go to work against her.

The blonde kisses down the younger girls’ neck and shoulders eagerly, nipping at her collarbones before making her way down to her chest and taking a pebbled nipple into her mouth. As she leans into her, the knee she has slotted between Azzi's legs pushes against her, giving her friction closer to where she wants it, making the other girls' breath catch.

She revels in the way she feels Azzi's breathing change underneath her, feels her start to squirm as she switches sides to show its twin the same affection before letting up in favor of progressing further down her body.

Her skin is warm and soft and smells like vanilla as she kisses down her stomach- it's more intoxicating than anything else Paige has ever felt in her life. She gets to her waistband and is about to pull her sweats down when Azzi taps her shoulder to get her attention.

She pauses, looking up at her with tented eyebrows as she hovers in place. "Hm?"

Once she stills, Azzi reaches down and grabs her face by the chin, eyes hooded. Paige wets her lips as she holds the eye contact, trying to steel herself and not let on the way her boxers are getting uncomfortably damp beneath her sweats.

"C'mere," She whispers, and Paige is immediately thanking god that her roommates aren't home as she climbs back up to oblige her girlfriends' request.

Their lips collide, and before she really knows what's happening, Azzi is pulling her close, locking her arms around her back before shifting hard to roll them both over and straddle her waist. Paige's mouth subconsciously falls open the slightest bit when she’s put on her back, and Azzi can't help but smirk.

She straightens her back and grabs at the bunched up fabric of her camisole that Paige had so impatiently pushed out of her way, pulling it up and arching her back as it goes to help it over her head.

Beneath her, Paige swallows and fixes her hands on her hips tightly, trying not to touch like a child watching a cake being frosted- watching desperately with a watering mouth as she takes in the scene unfolding in front of her. Everything about what she sees, she's absolutely obsessed with: her skin, her toned stomach, her perfect chest, her strong arms and shoulders, the beautiful way her dark curls cascade over her shoulders. She's perfect. So, so perfect.

"Fuck, Az," She mutters, eyes wandering over her frame. Azzi almost feels shy for a second with the way she's being looked at, but she manages to cut her thought process off.

After all, even with all the people in the world who said unhinged shit about her girlfriend online, she was the only one who got to sit half-naked in her lap whenever she wanted. Not a lot of reason to feel self conscious about that.

Azzi leans forward, hands grabbing the other girls’ to push them up and against the mattress for her own balance as she closes the gap between them to kiss Paige’s neck. The taller girls' legs naturally come up to settle with her feet flat against the bed, her thighs just behind Azzi's ass, keeping her close.

Azzi hums as she presses kisses up Paige's jaw, messy and warm and creating a feeling in Paige's gut that's very hard to ignore. The feeling of having her in her lap- breasts bare and pressing into her chest, ass pressing into her as she shifts- paired with the feeling of her full lips kissing their way across her neck and shoulders, curls tickling with the movement as they brush against her skin, is nearly enough to make her brain short circuit.

Having her hands pinned is torture- she's dying to be able to touch her. She pushes her hips forward, few other options available, and Azzi breathes in sharply at the contact, drawing back just barely to ground herself.

"Mmm, gotta be patient baby," She chides, renewing her efforts in the space between her girlfriend's neck and shoulder.

Paige groans. She wasn't used to not being able to pivot things where she wanted- to control the pace and the acceleration of things.

"Thought I was tryna show you sum," She argues, fighting hard to keep any trace of how pathetic she feels out of her voice when she says it. Azzi hums, nipping at her earlobe.

"Why don't you, then?" She counters, and Paige wastes no time in pushing up with both her hips and hands to roll Azzi back over, reclaiming her position above her.

They're both slightly out of breath once they resettle, and Paige supports herself over Azzi, holding the eye contact and letting their breath mix together in the minuscule amount of space between them.

Paige is acutely aware of the heat settling low in her belly at the way Azzi looks at her. Azzi, equally bothered, is trying hard not to squirm as she watches her girlfriend wet her lips, the veins in her hands and arms more prominent than usual after her display of strength to flip them back over.

"You gonna behave and lemme have my way w'you, babygirl? Or y’still need to get some energy out?" She asks pointedly, and a surge of pride goes through her when she sees the way a flush creeps across Azzi's face, no argument making it's way past her lips for once.

Balance restored.

Her big brown eyes peer up at her with the neediest expression she thinks she might have ever seen, and it doesn't take much convincing after that to hurry along, her point proven.

"A'ight then. I gotchu, mama," She says, pressing a single kiss to her neck before standing, letting her hands come to her hips as she surveys across her bedroom.

"Where'd that fuckin' thing end up, anyway?" She asks, and Azzi giggles from the bed, eyes lingering on her bare stomach as she turns her body, looking around the room.

"Closet, right? Had to move it when KK came in to play playstation?" She asks, and Paige turns to her, smiling.

"My girl’s so smart." She praises, reaching out to pat her leg as she walks past the bed to the closet. Azzi rolls her eyes, a small smile on her face as she tracks her with her eyes, biting at her finger as she watches her saunter over to open the closet door, sweats clinging low on her hips, boxer line peeking out just barely.

Paige stoops down to dig through a specific shoe box amongst the many that live in the small space. She knows she shouldn't be as turned on by the sight as she is, but there's just something about the way she looks, her legs spread and her arms settled on her knees as she balances on the pads of her feet while rummaging through the closet, searching.

It takes long enough for Paige to finally find it that by the time she's turning from the closet, victorious and holding the toy high above her head, she’s almost surprised to find that Azzi’s still looking at her. She lets the toy fall to her side as she comes to kneel on the edge of the bed in front of the other girl.

"Hey," She says, nudging Azzi's nose with her own, as she sets the strap and harness down above her head on the bed, out of sight. Azzi smiles at her, and for a moment, nobody else in the world exists, brown eyes meeting blue, their breath combining in the small space between them.

"Hey, yourself," She returns, reaching above her head to grab for the toy. Paige chuckles, spreading her arms wide in a stretch as she stands back up. Azzi’s eyes trail over her figure, taking in the sight of her stance, the way her abs flexed with the movement.

"Was gonna ask if you changed your mind, you seemed like you were zonin' out over here," She jokes, and Azzi makes a face.

"Sounds to me like you're getting nervous," She taunts, bringing the contraption in front of her face to get a better look at it. Paige clicks her tongue, shaking her head.

"Whatever, bro," She dismisses, leaning in to press a kiss to Azzi's forehead, hand smoothing over her curls lovingly as she hovered there.

"You sure you still wanna?" She asks, softer now, and Azzi nods, her focus clearly elsewhere as she shifts the harness to one hand and reaches out to grab her by the hips to maneuver her closer.

"If I can remember how to get this to work," She jokes, and Paige smirks, going to grab it from her. “I got it.”Azzi pulls it away from her prying hands, scoffing at her lightly.

"You never even put it on in the first place, dummy. Take your pants off and c'mere, I can figure it out." Paige laughs at that, hands going to untie the drawstring that's tucked into her waistband.

"Yes ma'am," She replies, stepping out of her sweats and then bringing her boxers along with them not long after, dropping them to the floor in a way that's all too familiar for the younger girl- makes it a little bit harder to swallow, too.

Azzi beckons her forward, putting significant effort into focusing on what she’s doing and not getting distracted by the perfect shade of pink peeking out from her girlfriend’s mound- and reluctantly, Paige goes.

"Here, step into this," Azzi says, holding a portion of the harness open for her, her eyes lingering on her girlfriends' naked frame. Paige chuckles, putting a hand on Azzi's shoulder to stabilize herself as she does as she's told.

She didn't remember it feeling this awkward the last time. Then again, it had been a while since they'd used it last- they’d both been so busy that any time that they’d found as of late to love on each other was kept entirely to quick hands and eager mouths.

Azzi furrows her eyebrows as her fingers go to work, adjusting buckles and straightening straps. Paige watches her face intently, trying not to feel silly.

"Turn," The curly headed girl prompts, and Paige follows the instruction mindlessly, feeling slightly like a kid getting their winter coat put on by a parent before being allowed to go outside to play in the snow.

Azzi tugs a specific section and it finally tightens- a little too fast, pinching at Paige's skin as it comes flush with flesh. The blonde jumps, disregarding the adjustments happening as she shoves her fingers between the harness and her skin to create a protective barrier and sooth the sting.

"Ow, Azzi!" She protests, and Azzi's head snaps up to look at her, eyes full of sympathy. "I'm sorry, baby. It was an accident," She soothes, running her thumb over the area and leaning over to press a kiss to it.

With that, it's already forgotten, the harness finally settled snug to Paige’s hips. Paige nods, mostly to herself, pushing her fingers underneath the straps once more to adjust herself to be more comfortable- and then she’s coming around to the other side of the bed and grabbing Azzi by the tops of her thighs, pulling her to the edge of the bed with no warning, causing her to yelp in surprise.

“Whoa, what are y-“ Paige shushes her, sinking to her knees, and loops her fingers under Azzi’s sweats, pulling them over her hips in one swift movement. Azzi watches the rushed movement with eager eyes, swallowing thickly while picking up her hips to help her tug them down.

Paige stoops down, and Azzi’s heart flutters in her chest as she starts to litter kisses on the insides of her thighs. The blonde is slow and intentional with her movements, arms coming to rest on the outside of Azzi’s spread knees as she sucks a purple mark into the other girls’ skin, soothing it with a swipe of her tongue and a chaste kiss afterward.

She continues to drop kisses as she moves up her thigh til she reaches her center, playing close attention to the subtle changes in Azzi’s breathing as she goes, and then slows, pressing a kiss to her clit through the thin cotton. Azzi lets out a breathy little gasp at the contact, neck craning to get a better view.

Paige presses another kiss, more pressure behind it than the last one, and then slips a little lower, repeating the motion. When she does, she finds the most perfect surprise waiting for her- Azzi’s completely soaked through the pretty purple panties she’s wearing.

“Oh my god, Azzi Jazlyn,” She remarks, looking up at the other girl with an amused look painted across her face. Azzi blushes, really blushes, and hides her face in her arm, a pouty little noise of protest falling from her lips at being mocked.

“Is it that serious?” Paige asks, tone dripping with sarcastic concern, and Azzi reaches down with the hand that isn’t obscuring her face to shove at Paige’s arm. The blonde just grins, shaking her head as she leans back and hooks her fingers under the waistband of the dampened fabric.

“Just teasin’, mama,” She soothes, voice husky as Azzi picks up her hips again.

“Y’know I fuckin’ love that shit,” She mumbles- mostly to herself- and she tugs the article over the swell of the other girls’ ass, eyes widening when they bring a string of glistening slick with them as they come away from the younger girls’ cunt.

She can’t help the groan that falls past her lips as she tugs them the rest of the way down, watching in disbelief as the strand stretches and the breaks, dropping to stick to the younger girls’ upper thigh.

Azzi hisses at the cold sensation, her face burning with embarrassment, and Paige quickly discards the pair of underwear behind her before her hands find the other girls’ legs again and she leans in, licking the slick off the supple skin of her upper thigh like she’s been in the desert and its the first drop of water she’s seen in days.

Azzi’s eyes drift back in a mix of disbelief and pleasure, biting at her lip in an attempt to keep her composure as Paige kisses the same place messily, leaving it wet.

She continues her trail of kisses up her thighs, one hand absentmindedly wandering over to the junction of Azzi’s hip, stopping there with her fingers held out as if signaling for Azzi to meet it with her own. She interlocks her fingers with her girlfriends’, and Paige looks up at her, a slight smile on her face before craning her neck back down, eyes still locked with Azzi’s as she licks into her cunt.

Azzi lets her eyes fall shut at the first contact, letting herself focus on the warmth of Paige’s tongue and the slick of her spit mixing with her own arousal over her clit. When she opens them again, she sees blue eyes still on her from between her legs, holding her gaze, careful to watch for any indication to stop- even though they both know it won’t come.

Paige is slow, letting her tongue run over her girlfriends’ pussy deliberately, reveling in how wet she finds her, how good she tastes. She sucks her clit into her mouth gently, and Azzi winces above her, curls pressed into the pillow as she kicks her head back and arches into the contact.

She lets her tongue come to assist the suction, running it over the base of her clit while she suckles at the head of it gently, and then lets it go, coming off with a pop!, pink lips glistening as they come away wet.

She brings her head back slightly and blows gently, the cold air sending goosebumps forming under Azzi’s skin, and watches her reaction carefully as she licks over it again. Azzi feels the other girls’ eyes on her and bites at her bottom lip, bringing her free hand up to palm at her breast as she holds the eye contact, teasing from where she's laid out.

Paige blinks slowly as she watches, eyebrows raising slightly- just enough to be noticeable, and she’s thankful her mouth is occupied so she doesn’t say something stupid in her awed state.

How lucky could one person get?

Azzi’s painted fingers move deftly to roll her pebbled nipple between her pointer and thumb, squeezing the mound of flesh to her chest and then repeating the motion, never breaking the eye contact. Paige watches eagerly and lets her tongue to continue to work her, slow and sensual and utterly pussy drunk, and Azzi is buzzing knowing how well she’s captured the girl between her legs.

Paige lets her tongue slip lower, the younger girls’ taste getting stronger and sweeter as she teases at her entrance- and Azzi gasps at the sensation, her right hand abandoning its efforts over her chest to come down her bare torso and grab at Paige’s hair, tangling into blonde strands still held back loosely by a hairtie.

"Fuck, Paige," She curses, her hips canting up and just slightly off the bed, smearing her slick across Paige's chin and nose. She pauses, giving an apologetic look when she realizes she's made a mess of the bottom half of her girlfriends' face, but Paige only chuckles.

She lets go of the younger girls' hand where their fingers are intertwined over her hipbone to bring both arms around her legs and over her hips to hold her still, fixing her in place before refocusing her efforts. Azzi whimpers at the feeling of being held so firmly while Paige knelt between her legs and went to work like a woman starved- so safe and desired and spoiled all at once.

She watches the slight flex of the blonde’s biceps as she holds pulls her impossibly closer, sloppy with her ministrations over the other girls’ clit, her jaw working as she alternates the shapes being drawn over the swollen nub to tease the most perfect little moans from her lips. The younger girl lets her newly free hands come up, crossing over her face in an attempt to hide how desperate she feels.

Paige smirks as she delves lower again, pushing into her cunt with her tongue and watching her facial expressions from between her legs, growing wetter by the second seeing how worked up she could make the other girl. Azzi's mouth hangs open in a silent gasp in response to the intrusion, eyebrows drawn up and together.

Paige opens her mouth wider, giving herself the leverage to fuck her tongue into her deeper- and Azzi picks a leg up to put it over the blonde's shoulder, improving the angle. The movement only makes Paige double down on her efforts, drawing back slightly to pull her right arm from its place over her hip in favor of bringing it low between them to meet the glistening slick of her pussy.

She keeps her tongue sliding in and out of her entrance, bringing her left thumb down over her pelvis to run over her clit. She’s aided by the wetness that's making a mess of her cunt- slowly spreading to her thighs now, too. Azzi whimpers, and the Paige borderline growls at the sound, drinking in the control she has over the other girl and the sounds she’s pulling from her lips.

She runs her tongue flat against her, running from entrance to clit, lapping up the juices she’d pulled since pressing the muscle into her needy cunt. She sucks her clit into her mouth again, letting the fingers of her free hand trail lower, tantalizingly slow in their movements as they ran deliberately teasingly along her folds, feeling the slickness of her juices over soft skin.

She lets her middle finger slip deeper, probing against her entrance, and Azzi’s breath catches at the feeling, hips bucking up in a desperate attempt to fill the ache inside of her.

"Ohmygod- please," She babbles, and Paige lets off her clit so she can sooth her. "Shh- I know, I know. You're okay mama, I gotchu.” She drops an open-mouthed kiss to the swollen bud.

“Jus’ needa stretch you out and make sure you're ready for it baby. S'been a while, hm?” She coos, lips brushing against her cunt as she says it, and Azzi whines, angling her hips so she feels her deeper. Paige hums at the observation, taking in the sight of the younger girls’ pussy as she has her way with her- glistening with wetness and the perfect shade of swollen pink.

"So needy for me, huh, baby?" Azzi nods deliriously, desperate for more- and Paige laughs sympathetically at her. "A’ight, sweetheart," She whispers, slipping two long, slender fingers in and curling them as she slides knuckle deep in one flush movement.

She presses deep entirely too easily, fingers brushing against her sweet spot far before the other girl had anticipated they would work themselves that deep- and its all she can do to whine at the sensation, throaty and guttural.

“Feels good?” The blonde husks, as if she doesn’t already know the answer. Azzi groans, humming a sweet little 'mhm' in response and hoping it’s enough, because it’s all she can muster. Paige eases in and out of her slow, reveling in how wet her fingers come away each time she draws them out of her pussy.

“Fuuuck, baby,” She husks, in awe of how perfect this girl is- how wet she’s gotten, how good she’s taking her fingers, how pretty her pussy is. Azzi whimpers, her hips chasing her fingers every time she draws them out, little ah, ah, ahs falling past her lips every time her fingers brush against that spongy spot deep inside of her.

Paige groans as she fucks into her gummy walls, chasing the high brought on by the younger girl’s delicious little noises. She's successful, Azzi keening when she strokes particularly deep- arching her back off the mattress, her abs flexing with the effort. The blonde watches eagerly, eyes hooded and lips wet as she observes every filthy detail of the unholy ministrations she’s working against Azzi’s cunt.

"'S it that good, baby? You like it when I stretch you out and get you ready for my dick, sweet girl?" Paige coos, and Azzi's too far gone to even manage a response, nodding deliriously with thick eyelashes fluttering against her flushed cheeks as she just stares with a fucked out expression, breathy little noises spilling out of her with each curl of her girlfriends' long fingers against her inner walls.

Unable to resist the urge, she lets her tongue lash over her clit again, moving in fast flicks of motion that she has to put conscious effort into limiting the pressure of in order to prevent overstimulating the swollen nub that’s already flared an angry pink.

"P-please, P, need it," Azzi whines, and Paige looks up at her, undeniably pussy drunk. "Yeah? Tell me what you want, baby," She says, tone sultry and words slurring with lust in a way that was just for Azzi.

"More," Azzi whines, and Paige tuts at her.

"Nah- you know better. Ask me right," The older girl corrects before bringing her mouth back to her core. Azzi whimpers pathetically before taking a steadying breath, steeling herself.

“Please,” She chokes, desperate for more despite the fact that her eyes were already welling up with tears at the intensity of what the blonde was doing to her.

“Want it,” She breathes, voice breaking, and Paige lets her eyes fall shut for a brief moment so she can soak in the sound of her pleas. Her wrist works overtime to keep her fingers in motion inside of her, and her tongue swirls around her clit, soaking in the metallic taste of the puffy little button as she continues to tease at it.

“Need it- fuck, please? Want you to fill me up,” She begs, and Paige takes a deep breath from between her legs, nostrils flaring slightly as she attempts to ground herself while she kisses into the younger girls’ cunt sloppily, lips and chin covered in her arousal. It’s almost too good to bring her mouth away from.

“Okay, sweet girl,” She mutters before letting her tongue drag along her slit, the slickness making the motion easy.

“Gonna fuck you so good,” She promises, pressing a kiss to her clit before standing. She places one knee on the mattress, bringing her hand up to rub at the other girls' thigh affectionately.

"Scooch up, mama. Gimme some room to work here," She murmurs gently, and Azzi complies, her eyes never leaving the blonde's face, bringing her hands to the mattress and pushing herself back.

The blonde follows immediately, crawling toward her and dropping a kiss to the scar over her knee as she approaches before sitting up straight. She adjusts the width of her knees where they’re pressed into the bed as she settles into the best position she can manage, reaching down to grasp the base of the toy where it juts out into the small amount of space between them.

Azzi’s eyes watch carefully as she reaches out, running her pointer and middle fingers through her folds to gather wetness before spreading it over the toy. She watches Paige’s fingers as they run along the length of the toy, coating it in her slick, and swallows, suddenly starting to realize that the toy looked a little bit bigger than she had remembered it being.

To distract herself, she forces her eyes higher, takes in the sight of the girl between her legs- abs tight, pert breasts and puffy pink nipples on display, loose blonde hair framing her face and a concentrated look painted across her features that was absolutely entrancing.

Paige takes hold of the toy and shuffles closer until she can run the tip through her folds, and Azzi’s breath catches at the contact. The older girl wets her parted lips as she stares, revelling in the way the younger girls’ slick spreads along the silicon, allowing the shaft move easily up and down her slit from entrance to clit.

Azzi's breath is shaky beneath her, pretty brown eyes blown as she watches every movement eagerly. She lets the toy nudge against her entrance, admiring how her pussy clenches a kiss around the head at the intrusion, and Azzi whines up at her, expression pleading silently for her to progress- so she rocks forward, slow, eyes on the younger girls’ face to gauge off of.

A little gasp falls from Azzi’s mouth as her eyes fall shut, head pushing back against the pillows as she draws her bottom lip between her teeth. Paige’s tongue peeks out of her mouth, pressing against her bottom lip with the effort as she presses in further, torturously slow as she eases her hips flush with Azzi’s.

Azzi moans as she bottoms out, her fingers grabbing ahold of Paige’s arm where it’s braced against her leg to improve the angle.

She lets her hand linger there in a loose grip, holding on to her for the sake of touching her alone, watching the other girl admire her, feeling her muscles move beneath her skin with every motion. Paige’s hips rock back, eyes watching the toy slide out of her entrance before she eases forward again, starting to find a rhythm.

“Oh, fuck, that’s good,” Azzi slurs, drawing a smirk out of Paige.

“Yeah? You like that, mama?” She asks, voice low and raspy as she pumps in and out of her, eyes roaming over the other girls’ body hungrily. The younger girl nods, eyebrows drawn together and face tight as she concentrates on adjusting to the stretch, painted fingernails digging into Paige’s arm just barely as a whimper escapes past her lips.

Paige gambles a look down as her pace gradually picks up, and watches as the strap slides in and out of the girl above her in time with her strokes. She swallows hard, sucking in a steadying breath as she watches her pussy stretch around the toy, excess wetness accumulating in a thick ring around the base of the toy.

Eager to see more, she snakes her dominant hand between them, using her pointer finger and thumb to hold her lips apart so she can get a better look at the toy pumping in and out of her, pussy pulsing and stretching around the silicon cock. She presses her thumb to her clit, rubbing tight circles as she picks up her pace gradually.

“Fuck, mama- squeezin’ my dick so pretty w’that pussy. You like it when I stretch you out, baby?”

“Ohmygod, yes,” Azzi rushes out, barely coherent, and Paige watches as she takes it, moving with her to set the pace, hips chanting and abs tight.

“Yeah? Feels good, don't it princess? Y’feelin me deep?” Azzi hums out a pathetic little mhm, whimpering, and she can't help herself- she reaches out, running her hand up her stomach, squeezing at her tits when she gets to her chest, palming them and feeling the weight of them in her hand.

She groans, letting her head kick back. She could feel their combined wetness smearing all over her pelvis and the front of her thighs now, and the realization hits like a drug. Azzi’s hand comes to meet hers over her chest, not to stop anything she’s doing, just for the sake of being able to hold onto her- and Paige shifts, bringing one knee up to better her angle, pausing as she pivots, and then presses forward again.

Azzi groans at the new angle, her hips canting up to chase the motion and pushing Paige deeper, in turn drawing a whine from the blonde’s throat when the base of the toy pushes against her clit.

“Oh, fuck,” Azzi whimpers, spurred on by the knowledge of what fucking her like this is doing to the blonde. Obscene sounds fill the room- Azzi’s cunt squelching around the silicon cock, breathy moans falling from both of the pairs’ lips, the sound of their combined slick over the already prominent sound of skin meeting skin with each thrust from Paige.

It’s filthy, the way they’re rutting into each other, but god, did both of them need this.

Azzi arches her back, taking their joined hands and pushing them lower, and at first Paige isn’t sure what she’s doing, thinks maybe she’s ushering her to stimulate her clit again, but then she stops short, right above her pelvis. Her confusion quickly gives way to recognition, and she almost chokes when she feels it- she’s fucking up into the younger girl so deep that she can feel it perfectly just by having her hand braced over her stomach.

“Oh, baby- fuck,” Her hips stutter, overwhelmed between feeling how deep she’s fucking into Azzi and the sensation of the base of the strap rubbing against her clit. Azzi shifts, hooking her legs around her waist, and Paige leans further forward, bracing herself with her elbows against the mattress, body pressed to Azzi’s as she continues the snap of her hips.

Azzi’s moans are even clearer now- right there to lean over and swallow up with a kiss, so she does, connecting their lips as she rolls her hips fervently. It’s wet and messy and desperate, both of them moaning into it, and for a moment, the sheer desperation shared between the two of them is enough to carry it, both rutting into each other like it was their last moment on earth.

Azzi’s head kicks back when Paige draws in particularly hard, the blonde’s bottom lip dragging against the side of her face when she breaks away from the kiss to shift so suddenly. Her legs wrap around her tighter, arms slung around her back with one hand tangled into the bun barely still in place on her head and the other digging half-moons into her shoulder as she fucks her open.

“Ohmygod, ohmygod, ohmygod,” She babbles, and Paige curses under her breath, shifting her weight from one arm to the other to sustain the rocking of her hips.

She’s absolutely stoned on the sounds she’s drawing out of her lips- so committed to making her make more of them that the tiredness settling into her body is barely even noticeable. Azzi’s breaths get shallow and run together, little noises escaping her lips with every thrust, her hips and hands unable to stay still as she grasps for Paige like she’s not as close as physically possible already.

“Paige, I’m- oh fuck,” Her voice breaks, and the sheer amount of desperation in her tone is enough for Paige to be sure of what’s happening.

“Gonna cum for me, baby?” She asks, and Azzi just nods, incapable of mustering any response beyond that in a coherent manner. Paige nods, pressing a kiss to the side of Azzi’s face, and braces herself to shift her weight on one arm, letting the other reach between them and find her clit.

The angle’s awkward and she knows she wouldn’t be able to keep it up for long- but she also knows Azzi doesn’t need much more, just wants her to feel good as she goes over the edge.

“Show me, princess. Wanna see you cum on this dick, pretty girl,” She whispers, and Azzi whimpers, nails digging into her back as she arches her back, impossibly close. Paige’s heart is nearly beating through her chest, and she’s trying embarrassingly hard not to let on how she’s pretty sure she could cum, too, trying to focus on getting Azzi there.

“C’mon, mama. Doin’ so good, so pretty for me. Let me have it, sweet girl,” She coos. Azzi nods desperately, shaky breaths heaving from her lungs as she chases the edge.

"Don't stop, don't stop," She pleads, and Paige hums, acknowledging the request as she presses a kiss to her face again, back tense as her hips roll into her at a pace she has no earthly idea how she had possibly kept up this long aside from pure obsession and a desperation to make her girl feel good.

"Never, baby. I gotchu, you're okay. Let go for me," She urges, and Azzi purses her lips, eyes fluttering shut and dimples popping as she tips over the edge of her climax.

Her head pushes back against the pillow and her eyes eyes screw shut, legs tightening even further around Paige's waist. A guttural moan escapes from her throat and for once, she doesn't even care how loud she is.

Her breaths draw deeper as she shudders through the remainder of her orgasm, little spasms of pleasure washing over her body, and Paige nuzzles close, dropping soft kisses to her shoulders as she slows her efforts. Beneath her, Azzi finally relaxes, body slumping against the mattress and her head lolling to the side to rest against Paige's forearm where it's pressed into the mattress supporting her weight.

Her hand comes down and entangles with Paige’s where it’s working her clit slowly, wincing as she pulls it away. “Too much,” She whimpers, and Paige chuckles airily, nodding.

“Okay, babygirl,” She replies, keeping the younger girls’ fingers intertwined with her own as she rests her hand on her waist.

“You good if I pull out?” She asks, and Azzi nods slowly, a hint of hesitation in her eyes. “But… slow, okay?” She asks, voice small, and Paige swears she almost melts at the expression on her face.

“‘Course, baby. I’ll be gentle, I promise,” She assures, pressing a kiss to the shorter girls’ forehead before starting to ease the toy out.

“You okay?” She asks, giving the other girl a distraction as she works herself out from inside of her. Azzi nods, her fingers fidgeting lightly with Paige’s where their hands were intertwined.

“Yeah, I’m good,” She nods, her chest still heaving big breaths. She winces when Paige eases the toy the rest of the way out, but Paige is quick to soothe, pressing kisses to her shoulders as she leans further down.

"Good job, baby. Did so good f'me," She praises, and Azzi soaks it in. Paige sits up again, pulling at the buckles of the strap to try and get it to loosen enough to slide out of, and Azzi can’t help but giggle.

“Come here, dummy,” She teases, leaning forward to reach her. Paige obliges her request, picking up her hands so she has space to work, watching as she manages to release all the cinched down straps in the amount of time it had taken her to figure out which direction was tightening or loosening the device.

“I dunno how you do that, but you amaze me, f’real,” Paige mutters, a dopey grin on her face as she looks at the other girl, and Azzi rolls her eyes, a grin creeping across her face.

“You’re so dumb,” She dismisses, lovesick expression on her face despite her words as she pulled the excess of the straps taut, making it easier for Paige to slip out of them. She does, and once she pulls it off, she immediately discards the contraption onto the floor to deal with later.

Azzi chuckles at the thud it made against the ground, pulling Paige close, reveling in the feeling of the warmth of her skin against her own. She let her hands start to roam, fingers exploring expanses of soft skin that only she got to touch like this.

“You’re so perfect,” She whispers to the blonde, and Paige chuckles, a light flush spreading across her chest. Her hand settles on her waist, holding her close, while she lays on her back, one hand slung behind her head.

“You think so?” She asks, and Azzi nods, bringing her lips to drop kisses along her shoulders.

“Definitely,” She confirms, lips brushing against her collarbones. “Good strap game, too. I don’t think you have anything to worry about, after all,” She says, and Paige can’t help but laugh.

“Thank you, baby. I’m glad you enjoyed yourself.” The blonde replies, running her hand up Azzi’s bare waist affectionately.

“Mmm, I definitely did,” The younger girl whispers, her lips trailing up her neck, teasing a path to that one spot behind her ear that always seemed to drive her crazy.

“Now I think it’s my turn to make sure you enjoy yourself, hm?”

For once, Paige has no argument.

a/n: Thank you guys for reading and thank you again for your patience while I finished this, seriously! Comments and reposts are appreciated, remember to let me know if you'd like to be included in taglists in the future!

Disclaimer: Sorry for the robbery at the end, I really intended to include that scene but I was already at 9k words so I decided to just wrap it up. If y'all want a second part or smth, lmk!

[goldfades]

i don't believe in god, but i believe that you're my savior; my mom says that she's worried, but i'm covered in this favor; and when we're getting dirty, i forget all that is wrong───PAIGE BUECKERS

⟢ ┈ 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭 | 4k

⟢ ┈ 𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲 | she was the kind of girl who lit up rooms and wrecked worlds in the same breath—a gravity too intense to resist. you’d sworn off falling, but the first time she laughed, smoke curling from her lips like an invitation to a wildfire, you were already in freefall. between stolen touches and reckless nights, you wonder if paige is your salvation or your undoing—or maybe a bit of both.

⟢ ┈ 𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 | whoo, where do i begin? very angsty (but with a happy ending!), A LOT OF religious trauma, biblical allusions, descriptions of internalized homophobia, um... idk what else?

⟢ ┈ 𝐞𝐯'𝐬 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞𝐬 | okay i wanna preface this by saying... this is NOT a realistic reflection of paige because i know she is religious (i am too) but for the sake of this fic, it's just not a direct correlation. ANYWAY, i got this fic request a couple hours ago and this has been in my drafts for a while, and it's for sailor song so i decided just to mix the two. but fair warning; this is VERY self-indulgent, like super... but i hope you guys enjoy it nonetheless!

It started with her laugh.

Low, sharp, intoxicating—like she knew something you didn’t, and the knowing was half the fun. The sound carried through the room, brushing against your skin, leaving a warmth behind that didn’t quite fade.

You hadn’t meant to look. It was a casual glance, a passive observation of the crowd gathered in the dim light of some off-campus house party. But there she was, Paige, head tilted back, blonde hair loose and gleaming like spun gold in the chaos of flashing lights. Beautiful didn’t quite cover it. She was an image that felt ripped straight from a psalm—crafted by hands too divine to belong to this earth.

You told yourself to look away. But it was like trying to pull your gaze from the altar during a prayer; you knew better, but you stayed. Her presence burned, the kind of flame you’d always been taught to fear. And yet, the yearning rose in you like a hymn.

She held a vape pen in one hand, her other resting lazily against the kitchen counter. When she brought it to her lips and exhaled, the plume of smoke rose like incense, curling toward the low ceiling. It wasn’t just a casual gesture—it was deliberate, a communion, and you felt the weight of her gaze as she caught you staring. Her eyes—blue like stained glass on a Sunday morning—locked with yours, and in that instant, you swore she saw straight through you. Every doubt. Every prayer you’d whispered to keep yourself in line.

Your chest tightened. It felt less like a chance meeting and more like a test. A temptation. You wanted to pass. You wanted to fail.

Her smirk formed slowly, a deliberate curve of her lips that made your breath catch. She waved the pen in a lazy arc, motioning you over. Something inside you—rebellion, recklessness, or maybe just exhaustion—told you to move. So you did.

Every step toward her felt like crossing a line you’d drawn for yourself long ago. The room blurred, fading into irrelevance as you neared. She was all you could see, every detail sharper and brighter than it had any right to be. Her hoodie hung loose on her frame, the strings unevenly tugged. Her nails, painted the softest blush, tapped rhythmically against the counter.

“You always stare like that?” she asked, voice low but cutting through the din around you. Her tone was casual, but her eyes… they were anything but. They pinned you in place, unrelenting.

Heat rushed to your cheeks, and you fumbled for an answer. “No. I mean—sorry, I wasn’t—”

“Relax.” She leaned in, close enough that you could smell the faint mix of mint and something sweeter. “I don’t bite.” A pause, her grin widening. “Not unless you want me to.”

Your laugh came out shaky, a poor attempt at deflecting the rising tension in your chest. “Do you always talk like this?”

“Only when I’m interested.” The words landed heavy, like a confession in a darkened booth. Paige tilted her head, studying you. “What’s your name?”

You told her, and the way she repeated it back made it sound different—softer, like she was testing the weight of it in her mouth. She offered her hand, the gesture disarmingly formal. When your fingers touched, the spark was immediate, electric. You wondered if she felt it too.

“Nice to meet you,” she said, her grip firm but unhurried, like she had all the time in the world to unravel you.

You didn’t have all the time in the world. That was the problem. Years of sermons and Bible studies echoed in your mind like a chorus of warnings. Narrow is the road, straight is the gate, and you were barreling down the wide, crooked path without a second thought.

“So,” Paige said, pulling you back to the present, “you drink, or are you just here for the vibes?”

“I don’t drink.” The answer came automatic, instinctive, a remnant of the rules you hadn’t yet shaken off. Paige arched an eyebrow, intrigued but not mocking.

“Interesting.” She leaned closer, her voice dropping. “Guess I’ll have to figure out what your vice is.”

The air between you felt charged, heavy with something unspoken. You tried to speak, to say anything that would keep you grounded, but nothing came. All you could do was stand there, caught in the pull of her presence.

“Come on,” she said, grabbing her vape from the counter and motioning for you to follow her. “Let’s get out of here. It’s too loud.”

You hesitated, the weight of invisible judgment pressing against you. But then she smiled—soft, earnest, utterly disarming—and the resistance crumbled. It felt wrong, undeniably so. But it also felt like freedom.

So you followed.

The night air hit you like a baptism, cool and sobering after the crowded haze of the party. Paige walked ahead of you, her hands shoved into her hoodie pockets, her steps unhurried. She glanced over her shoulder to make sure you were still there, flashing you a smile that sent a shiver racing down your spine.

You kept a few paces behind, your mind a storm of contradictions. Everything about this felt dangerous, like stepping into a story you’d been warned against since you were a child. But there was something magnetic about her, something that made you ignore the small, insistent voice in the back of your head telling you to turn back. She moved like she owned the night, and for a moment, you wondered if maybe she did.

“Where are we going?” you asked, your voice a little too high, a little too thin.

“Someplace quiet,” she said, not turning around. “Don’t worry, I’m not a serial killer.”

“That’s exactly what a serial killer would say.”

She laughed, and it was soft this time, less sharp-edged than before. “Fair point. But I think you’re safe with me. Trust me?”

You didn’t answer, but the fact that you kept walking was its own reply. Paige led you down a winding street lined with trees, the leaves whispering in the breeze like they were in on some divine secret. You felt like a lamb being led away from the flock, the shepherd nowhere in sight. But instead of fear, all you felt was the thrill of it—the breaking of the rules, the stepping out of bounds.

Eventually, she stopped in front of a small park, deserted except for a few streetlights casting pale pools of light over the benches. She sat on one of them, her legs sprawled out casually, and gestured for you to join her.

You hesitated for a fraction of a second before sitting, careful to leave a polite amount of space between you. Paige noticed and smirked, shifting slightly so your knees almost touched. The proximity made your pulse quicken.

“Relax,” she said, pulling the vape pen out of her pocket and twirling it between her fingers. “I don’t bite, remember?”

You tried to smile, but it felt stiff, unnatural. “Not unless I want you to, right?”

Paige’s eyes sparkled with amusement. “Exactly. You’re catching on.” She brought the vape to her lips, taking a long drag before exhaling. The smoke curled lazily in the air, illuminated by the glow of the streetlight. She tilted her head, studying you. “So, what’s your deal?”

“My deal?”

“Yeah. You’re giving off… I don’t know. Saintly vibes.” Her tone was teasing, but there was genuine curiosity in her eyes. “Like you stepped out of some Catholic school choir.”

You stiffened, the words hitting closer to home than she could’ve known. “I�� grew up religious.”

Paige raised an eyebrow, intrigued. “Religious, huh? Like, church every Sunday, Bible verses on the fridge, all that?”

You nodded, a tightness creeping into your chest. “Pretty much.”

She leaned back, her expression unreadable. “And now?”

You hesitated. It wasn’t a question you liked answering, mostly because you didn’t know the answer yourself. “Now… I don’t know. I guess I’m figuring it out.”

Paige nodded slowly, her gaze softening. “That’s fair. Takes time to unlearn all that, right?”

The word unlearn felt heavy, like it carried a weight you weren’t ready to unpack. You looked down at your hands, suddenly unsure of what to do with them. “Something like that.”

For a moment, the only sound was the rustling of leaves and the distant hum of traffic. Then Paige spoke, her voice quieter this time. “You know, I used to go to church too.”

Your head snapped up, surprise flickering across your face. “You did?”

She nodded, exhaling another plume of smoke. “Yeah. My grandma made me go. Every Sunday, no exceptions. I hated it back then. All the rules, all the guilt… it was suffocating.” She paused, a wistful smile tugging at her lips. “But now, I don’t know. Sometimes I miss it.”

“Miss it?” The idea seemed foreign, almost impossible. “Why?”

Paige shrugged. “I guess… it was nice, believing in something bigger than yourself. Feeling like someone up there gave a damn about you.” She looked at you, her eyes searching. “You ever feel like that?”

You wanted to say no, wanted to deny it outright. But the truth was, you had felt that once. Before the doubts, before the questions, before the endless weight of trying to reconcile who you were with who you were supposed to be. You swallowed hard, your throat suddenly dry. “I don’t know.”

Paige nodded, as if she understood. “Well, for what it’s worth, I think you’re pretty damn interesting. Religious trauma and all.” She grinned, her teasing tone returning. “Maybe I’ll save you.”

The words hung in the air, light and joking, but they hit you harder than you cared to admit. You looked at her, the girl who seemed to embody everything you’d been taught to fear, and wondered if maybe, just maybe, she was right.

And that’s how this whole thing began—the beginning of the end.

It wasn’t a relationship, not exactly. It wasn’t even a proper friendship. You weren’t sure what to call it. Some blurry, undefined space where your worlds collided—recklessly, beautifully, disastrously. Paige would text you late at night, a simple you up? and before you even had time to think, you’d find yourself in her orbit again. Her dorm, a parked car, that same park bench. The locations changed, but the pattern didn’t.

She kissed like she had something to prove, like she knew exactly what you wanted and wasn’t afraid to take it. And God, did you let her take it. Every time. Every brush of her lips, every tug at the edges of your carefully constructed world, it left you breathless. Empty. Full. You couldn’t tell anymore.

You told yourself it was just physical—nothing more than a release. But that was a lie, and you both knew it. Especially when she’d pull away and rest her forehead against yours, her breath warm against your cheek, her voice soft in the stillness.

“You okay?” she’d ask, her tone full of something that felt too much like care.

You’d nod, swallowing down the lump in your throat. “Yeah. I’m fine.”

Fine. That was another lie. You weren’t fine. You were far from it. Every time you left her, slipping back into the quiet safety of your own bed, you could feel the guilt clawing at your chest like a living thing. It whispered in your ear, cruel and relentless, reminding you of every rule you were breaking, every promise you were shattering.

But the worst part? You reveled in it. There was a twisted kind of freedom in the guilt, like stepping into a storm and letting it drench you. It was messy and terrifying and so far removed from the pristine, polished version of yourself you’d been raised to be. With Paige, you weren’t the good girl anymore. You weren’t the dutiful daughter or the pious believer. You were raw, unfiltered, unapologetically human. And you hated how much you loved it.

┈┈┈

One night, after another one of those late-night texts, you found yourself sprawled on Paige’s bed, your head resting against her chest as her fingers traced lazy patterns on your arm. The room smelled faintly of her lavender laundry detergent and the minty vape she always carried. It should’ve been calming, but it wasn’t. Not tonight.

“You’re quiet,” she said, her voice cutting through the silence. “What’s going on in that head of yours?”

You hesitated, biting the inside of your cheek. “Nothing. Just tired.”

“Liar.” Her fingers paused, and she tilted her head to look at you. “You’ve got that look again.”

“What look?”

“That I’m feeling guilty as hell but too stubborn to admit it look.”

Her words hit too close to home, and you shifted uncomfortably. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

She sighed, her hand moving to tuck a strand of hair behind your ear. The gesture was too tender, too intimate. “You know you can talk to me, right?”

You closed your eyes, the weight of her gaze almost too much to bear. “I don’t think you’d understand.”

“Try me.”

The room felt heavy, the air thick with unspoken words. You didn’t want to say it, but the truth was clawing its way out, demanding to be heard. “I just… I can’t stop feeling like this is wrong. Like I’m wrong.”

Paige stiffened beneath you, the softness in her expression giving way to something sharper. “Wrong? What does that even mean?”

You sat up, hugging your knees to your chest. “It means this. Us. Everything. It’s not… it’s not what I’m supposed to be doing.”

“Says who?” Her voice was steady, but there was an edge to it now, a defensiveness you’d never heard before.

You looked at her, your throat tightening. “Everyone. My parents. My pastor. God.”

The word hung between you like a curse, and Paige let out a bitter laugh, sitting up as well. “God? Really? You think God’s sitting up there, keeping score of who you kiss?”

“It’s not just that,” you said, your voice cracking. “It’s everything. The lying, the sneaking around, the… the way I feel about you. It’s too much.”

Paige’s jaw tightened, but instead of the defensiveness you expected, she exhaled slowly, her shoulders relaxing. “Look, I might not be the most religious,” she began, her voice steady but gentle, “but I don’t think God’s sitting up there keeping some cosmic tally of who you kiss or how you feel. That’s not love. That’s control.”

Her words made you flinch, and she reached out, her hand brushing yours lightly before pulling back. “You grew up being told He’s this all-powerful, all-knowing being, right? So, if He’s that big, that perfect, then don’t you think He’s got room for you, too? For… this?” She gestured between the two of you, her voice softening. “I mean, if God is love, doesn’t that include the kind you feel for me?”

Your throat tightened, and you felt the tears coming before you could stop them. Paige saw, but she didn’t shy away. Instead, she leaned in, her voice dropping even lower, like she was sharing a secret just for you. “You’re not broken. You’re not wrong. And you sure as hell don’t need saving. Not from me. Not from anyone.”

For a fleeting moment, the knot in your chest loosened. Paige’s words were like a salve, soothing the ache you’d carried for so long. She made it sound so simple—love as something pure and whole, untainted by judgment or shame. You wanted to believe her. God, you wanted to.

And for a moment, you did. You let yourself lean into her warmth, let yourself imagine a version of this where you could breathe freely, unburdened by guilt. But it didn’t last. The weight of your upbringing—the sermons, the warnings, the whispered prayers for deliverance—settled back over you like a heavy cloak.

“Maybe you’re right,” you murmured, your voice trembling. “Maybe God doesn’t care. But I do.”

Paige frowned, her brows furrowing. “Why?”

“Because it’s not just about Him,” you said, your hands clutching your knees tightly. “It’s about everything. My parents. My community. The person I’ve spent my whole life trying to be.”

Her face softened, and she reached for your hand again, her grip firm and grounding. “But what about the person you are? The one sitting right here, right now?”

You couldn’t answer. Or maybe you didn’t want to. The truth felt too raw, too messy to say out loud.

Paige sighed, her thumb brushing over your knuckles. “Look, I get that this is complicated for you. But you deserve to love and be loved without feeling like you’re doing something wrong. And if no one’s ever told you that before, then I’m telling you now.”

Her words lingered, wrapping around you like a safety net. You wanted to fall into it, to let her catch you. But the ground beneath you still felt too shaky, too uncertain.

So you stayed quiet, letting her hold your hand while the silence stretched between you. It wasn’t resolution, but it was something. And for now, that was all you could handle.

Over the weeks that followed, something began to shift. Paige didn’t press you, didn’t demand answers you weren’t ready to give. Instead, she stayed patient, like she understood the weight you carried better than anyone ever had. She didn’t push you to talk about your guilt, but she made space for you when you did. Slowly, you began to let her in.

It started small. A whispered confession in the quiet of her dorm. A memory shared over takeout cartons and late-night reruns of shows you’d never admit to liking. The walls you’d spent years building began to crumble, piece by piece, under her steady gaze and unflinching kindness.

One night, as you lay sprawled on her couch, the conversation wandered back to the topic you’d both been skirting around for days.

“Do you ever think about leaving it all behind?” Paige asked, her voice soft but curious.

“Leaving what behind?”

She tilted her head toward you. “The guilt. The rules. The version of yourself you’re so scared to let go of.”

You didn’t answer right away. You traced the pattern of the couch cushion beneath your fingers, searching for words that wouldn’t come. Finally, you sighed. “It’s not that simple.”

“I know,” she said. “But maybe it doesn’t have to be as complicated as you think.”

The conversation stuck with you. Paige didn’t have all the answers, but she had a way of making you feel like you could find them yourself. She challenged you to ask questions you’d spent years avoiding, to rethink the parts of your faith that had been weaponized against you.

“I don’t think you have to throw it all away,” she said one night, her voice careful, deliberate. “Your faith, I mean. Maybe it just needs to look different. More… you. I never left that religious part of my life, I just... made it more me.”

You didn’t know what that meant yet, but the idea of redefining your faith—of making it your own—felt like a spark in the darkness.

For the first time in years, you began to feel something that resembled peace. There were moments, fleeting but powerful, where you allowed yourself to be happy without questioning if you deserved it. Moments when Paige’s laugh lit up a room, and you couldn’t help but laugh with her. Moments when she kissed you, and the world went quiet, and the only thing that mattered was her hands in your hair and her breath against your skin.

It wasn’t perfect. The guilt didn’t disappear overnight. It still crept in, especially when you were alone, whispering that you were wrong, broken, sinful. But it didn’t consume you the way it used to.

Because now, there was something stronger than the guilt. There was Paige. And there was you. The version of you she saw—the one who deserved love, who could rewrite the rules, who didn’t have to apologize for existing.

And maybe, just maybe, that version of you was worth believing in.

Falling in love with Paige wasn’t a dramatic, earth-shattering event. It wasn’t fireworks or grand declarations or sudden epiphanies. It was quieter than that, gentler. Like the tide rolling in, it happened so naturally, so effortlessly, that you didn’t even realize it was happening until you were already submerged.

It was in the small things—the way she’d instinctively hold your hand during a scary part of a movie, her thumb drawing lazy circles on your skin. The way she always knew when you needed space and when you needed her closer, as if she could read the thoughts you couldn’t put into words. The way she’d say your name, softly, like it was her favorite word.

You started noticing how her laugh could fill a room, making even the dullest moments feel alive. The way her eyes lit up when she talked about something she loved—basketball, her dog back home, or the time she convinced her whole team to wear matching Crocs. Paige had this way of making the ordinary extraordinary, and you couldn’t help but be drawn to her.

She never tried to fix you, never made you feel like you were some puzzle that needed solving. She just saw you—the real you, the messy, complicated, guilt-ridden you—and loved you anyway.

Paige’s love wasn’t flashy or conditional or based on expectations. It was steady, like a heartbeat, a rhythm you could count on even when everything else felt uncertain.

It wasn’t in the grand gestures but in the little moments. Like when she brought you coffee the exact way you liked it, without asking. Or when she remembered the names of the books you’d mentioned in passing and bought you one “just because.” It was in the way she’d text you random memes during the day, just to make you laugh, and the way she’d listen—really listen—when you spoke about your fears, your dreams, your past.

One night, you found yourself lying beside her, the room lit only by the faint glow of her bedside lamp. She was doodling something on your arm with her finger, her touch light and absentminded.

“What are you doing?” you asked, your voice soft.

“Drawing stars,” she said with a grin. “Because you’re my universe.”

You rolled your eyes, but you couldn’t stop the smile that crept onto your face. “That’s so cheesy.”

“Yeah, but it made you smile,” she shot back, her voice full of playful confidence.

And it did. She always did.

As you lay there, her head resting against your shoulder, you realized that this—she—made you feel complete in a way you hadn’t even known was possible. Paige loved you in a way that felt so simple, so natural, that it made you question everything you’d ever believed about love.

You used to think you were hard to love. That you came with too much baggage, too many rules, too much you. But with Paige, there was no effort, no hesitation. She loved you like it was breathing, like it was the easiest thing in the world.

And for the first time, you began to wonder if maybe she was right. If maybe love didn’t have to be hard or painful or earned. If maybe, just maybe, it could be as simple as this.

Over time, the love between you grew, not in explosive leaps but in quiet, steady steps. It wasn’t just the way she kissed you or held your hand. It was in the way she made you laugh until your sides hurt, the way she celebrated your victories, big or small, like they were her own. It was in the way she never gave up on you, even when you struggled to believe in yourself.

It wasn’t perfect. You weren’t perfect. But Paige made you feel like you didn’t have to be. She made you feel whole, even in the moments when you felt broken.

And as you fell deeper into this love—this easy, unconditional love—you began to realize something else. You weren’t just falling in love with her. You were starting to fall in love with yourself, too.

↳ make sure to check out my navigation or masterlist if you enjoyed! any interaction is greatly appreciated !

↳ thank you for reading all the way through, as always ♡

[sectumsempraaa]

Drowning Lessons

Pairing: Theo Nott x fem!reader

Word count: 2.4k

Featuring: Theo, Mattheo, Lorenzo, Draco, Pansy

Based on this request! Thank you :)

TW: fear/phobia of water and swimming, traumatic memories, physical pain, freefalling, panic, severe weather

A/N: you GUYSSSS i missed you!! i have been away for a minute because… i met someone 🤭 but we’re back in the saddle now, working thru requests!

Summary: After a rip current incident when you were younger, you’ve lived your life deeply afraid of the water, vowing never to swim again. But when a lesson in Magical Creatures leaves you stranded in the black lake, your boyfriend Theo comes to the rescue.

“Never have I ever… got stuck underwater.” Pansy jokes, calling you out in front of your friend group. You sigh and roll your eyes, putting a finger down as the game instructs.

“Come on, Pans. That’s low.” Theo says, a stern tone emitting from him. “You know what happened.”

“Actually, I don’t! Y/N here would never tell me such secrets.” She playfully nudges your arm with her elbow, encouraging you to speak.

Theo notices your breath quickening as you attempt to swallow your nerves and reaches an affectionate hand to rub your shoulder in comfort.

The unwelcome memory snaps back to you, triggered by Pansy’s jab. You, a rip current, and the American sun. As a young girl, you had been swimming around in the ocean on a trip to California when a current pulled you under and whipped you around senseless.

No matter how far you reached your hands, they could never find the surface. You were convinced it was the end until a lifeguard raised you from the water and carried you to shore.

Unfortunately, your lungs suffered some minor damage. To this day, you get short-breathed easily, especially when you start to panic. It’s nothing too serious, but noticeable enough to your friends and Theo.

“Don’t listen to her, bella. She’s drunk.” Theo comforts you, his voice competing with the sounds of the party. You nod and give him a small smile, hoping everyone will just forget about this moment.

“Your turn, baby.” Theo kisses your cheek, easily bringing your good mood back. You reach a hand to rest on his knee, letting him know your appreciation.

“Hmm…” you think hard, attempting to give Pansy a taste of her own medicine. “Never have I ever… had a wet dream about a teacher.”

You smirk, knowing you hit it right on the mark. The group collectively drop their jaws, Theo’s hand grabbing your thigh in surprise.

“That was ONE time! And how do you know it was even a teacher?!” Pansy snarls, becoming fiercely defensive.

Mattheo pipes in, imitating Pansy. “Oh, Professor Lockhart, right there! Yes!” Pansy hits Mattheo over the side of the head, giving him a scowl and spewing profanities his way. Theo laughs uncontrollably, shaking his head in disbelief.

“Damn, principessa,” Theo says, his words laced with pride. “Remind me to never piss you off.”

You smile, shaking off any remnants of your panic and settle back into the party. For the rest of the night, everyone plays nice.

—

Later that week, you found yourself outside for Magical Creatures class. You watch on in awe as Hagrid presents a hippogriff to the class. You’re intrigued by the creature, the beauty of her feathers fanning out and her graceful strength striking to you.

Each student is to take a turn with her this week, bowing to and exploring their interactions with her. You are a gentle, animal-loving soul and she senses it as she immediately bows back to you.

You step forward, her beak nudging your ribs while you pet her. A small laugh escapes your mouth as you stumble backwards, quickly regaining your balance.

“Such a gorgeous, gorgeous girl.” You sing, stealing a glance at Theo who, like the rest of the class, is looking at you like you’re the damn bird whisperer. He nods, gesturing over to where Hagrid is standing.

“Aye, I think she likes ya. Care for a flight today, Y/N?” Hagrid asks, encouraging you to engage further with the creature.

Before you can even answer, she lowers herself to your height, inviting you to climb on. A pang of hesitancy hits your gut, your body and mind wanting two different things.

Theo approaches her from behind so as not to be noticed by her. He grips your hips, lifting and guiding you to her back.

He senses your nerves, whispering a thought before you take off. “Careful, cara mia. I need you in one piece.” He winks, stepping back to where the class is.

Once you’re up in the air and soaring around, you get comfortable with the height and let yourself enjoy the flight. It’s not every day you bond with a hippogriff.

Your hands are white knuckling but your face relaxes into a basking smile, taking the time to give her pets as she flies you around the circumference of the castle.

The wind picks up a bit, feeling cool and refreshing on your face. But it turns into more than just a breeze, as you feel a few droplets of rain cascading down your skin.

Down on the ground, Lorenzo nudges Theo’s arm with his elbow, holding out his hand to bring Theo’s attention to the rain. The alarm in his voice becomes apparent as he speaks to Theo.

“Hey mate, we best get your girl down. This isn’t looking too promising.”

Within seconds, a slight drizzle becomes harsh, thrashing sheets of rain. Unsure of how to land, you attempt to push down on your hippogriff’s back, signaling her to descend.

It was all so fast, the way a few drops of water became like bullets. The wind changing direction every few seconds starts to disorient you as you struggle more and more to hold on. Down below, Hagrid instructs the class to head indoors.

But before you even get a chance to land, a sudden clad of thunder erupts, blasting in your ears with your close proximity to the sky.

You can feel her panic beneath you as you try to soothe her and talk her down. Another clad. And another. She screeches just as she takes a turn over the black lake.

Theo storms over to where Hagrid is, a threat like hell lacing his words and crimson red burning in his eyes.

“GET HER DOWN, NOW.” If you weren’t so close to the roaring thunder, you’d have heard him repeat this several times in angsty Italian.

And then it all snapped. A bolt of lightning strikes the Whomping Willow in the distance, scaring your hippogriff so badly she bucks you off, jolting you off her side.

It takes a second for you to realize you’re free falling dozens of feet towards the water with nothing to stop you, almost like in slow motion.

On the ground, panic stirs wildly as Hagrid tries to lure her down with meat, which works… for her. The creature makes a near-crash landing close to Hagrid’s hut.

But Theo’s heart drops into his stomach as he notices the empty spot on her back where you’re supposed to be.

His heart races as he searches the sky for a sign of you, unable to move from his spot. Then, you appear, and the sight of you falling from the clouds utterly paralyzes him.

The sound of your scream prompts him back to reality, urging him to take action. The last thing you hear before you crash into the water is Theo’s horrified voice yelling your name.

“SHE CAN’T BE IN THE WATER!” he shouts at Hagrid through the relentless, howling storm as he shoves the professor out of the way.

Then… silence.

The pain of a thousand needles pierces your skin, the freezing water enveloping your body in a rigid embrace. The burn from the crash lingers for a while on your skin as your brain catches up with the moment.

Slowly, your eyes open to the dark and murky scene around you, your vision slightly delayed.

Once you realize you’re under, you actually have a moment of peace. Maybe it was the way your body stilled after the impact, maybe it was the quiet, or maybe it was you coming to terms with this scenario once again.

It’s starting to feel like fate.

Your arms float above you as you feel your lungs start to tighten. Then it all comes back to you, the trauma of it causing you to stir and thrash in the water.

Your lack of swimming skills is regretful now as you try to raise yourself to the surface. You helplessly grab onto plants and rocks for leverage, something falls into your hand, but ultimately nothing in your reach seems to work.

Suddenly, an arm grabs your waist with urgency, causing you to scream beneath the water, the air bubbles rising from your mouth. Another hand reaches up to cover your mouth, urging you to breathe.

When your eyes meet his, you wonder how they can still appear so crystal blue in such grim conditions. He shakes his head and points to his chest, as if to say, “It’s me.”

You wrap your arm around his neck as he pulls you up, making each second count. When you reach the surface, your lungs start to contract wildly, desperately trying to catch up on oxygen.

Your vision is still blurred and your head is still in a haze when you feel his arms wrap under your legs to lift you up.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” Theo curses under his breath as he carries you to land. He yells out to someone as he gently rests you down on the ground. “Get Pomfrey, NOW!”

You’ve never heard his voice so urgent, so demanding. And he wouldn’t tell you this, but deep down, he knows he’s never been this scared before in his life.

You stir beneath him, fiddling the grass around in your fingers as your breath slowly begins to level again. “Theo…” you start, barely able to get the words out.

“Ssshh, mi amore, you’re okay. Don’t speak, just look at me, okay?” He asks, earning a painful nod from you in return. You can’t help but notice how both your voices are equally shakey.

The rain begins to subside, the skies finally concluding their vicious rein. Your body shakes a little from the several rapid changes in temperature. Theo scans you head to toe, attempting to pinpoint a place to start working.

His hands work on unbuttoning your jacket and removing your shoes, everything completely drenched that could weigh you down. Once he’s finished, he cups your face in his hands, bringing his lips to your forehead for a gentle kiss.

With your eyelids halfway open, you pause for a second before displaying a grin and letting out a low, humming laugh. His eyebrows furrow in confusion.

“What in the world could you possibly be laughing at?” He looks down in your eyes with worry and a slight annoyance.

Your voice coughs and croaks, struggling to project from your throat. “Remember in third year when you caught your first snitch? And Draco was so jealous you had won them the championship that he stole it?”

Theo nods gently, his eyes widening in awe and his jaw dropping in surprise as you weakly reach your hand up to his face, revealing the rusted, waterlogged snitch in your palm.

“It was resting in between a couple rocks in the lake. He must have thrown it in there amidst his toddler-like fit of rage.” You explain, your smile unwavering.

“Bella, you continue to both kill and amaze me.” He takes the snitch in his hand, leaning down to kiss you.

When his lips caress yours, you feel him smiling against you. Your fingers find themselves at the base of his hair, wet from the rain.

When he pulls back, he lifts his head to meet Pomfrey’s gaze. His stressed words sound like an echo as your eyes begin to close again.

“Please, madame, she’s pale and freezing and,” he starts, just before being cut off by the healer. A soft hand cups his face as you hear her voice begin to speak. He needs soothing just as much as you do right now.

“Well come on then, dove. Let’s get your girl to the infirmary. Get her up, I reckon she trusts you the most.”

Without giving it a second thought, Theo pulls you tight against his chest, letting out a small grunt as he lifts you and himself off the ground.

“Whatever I can do, I want to do it.”

—

The next morning, you wake up to a foggy sunrise. The early light creeps in through the infirmary windows, casting a glow on Theo.

His body sits in a chair next to your bed, his head resting in your lap and a hand clutching yours.

It takes a second to put the pieces back together. But the sight of your wet clothes on the ground and the boy sleeping on your thighs helps kickstart your memory.

You brush your thumb against the back of his hand while attempting to awaken your limbs from their still slumber.

When he stirs awake, a wave of relief washes over his features. “Y/N,” he gasps, waking up fast and standing up to sit on your bed.

He pulls you in, holding your head to his chest and cradling you safely in his arms. He rocks you back and forth, savoring your warmth. You pull back and meet his gaze, his eyes frantically searching your face.

“Hey, hey,” you whisper, resting your forehead on his. “You told me to come back in one piece. I did.” You smile, nudging his nose with yours.

“Cara mia…” Theo groans, trying to hold back his smile. “Next summer, we’ll swim every single day at Malfoy Manor if that’s what it takes to make sure this never happens again.”

You pause, hesitant to agree to the notion. But deep down, you know it’s time to recover from this and move forward.

“I’ll learn fastest there anyways, assuming we’ll keep playing fetch with Draco whenever he gets mad and throws something of value into the pool.”

You joke, running your hands through Theo’s dried hair. His eyes have a hint of bloodshot to them after yesterday’s events.

“Whoever gets him to throw his ring in the pool first gets to push the other in the water?” He offers, extending his hand to you. You take it, shaking and kissing the back of it.

“You’re on, Nott.” You giggle, sending a glimmer of light to his eyes.

You didn’t notice it until now, the way he’s clinging onto your waist like you’ll somehow fall away again. You pull back, bringing him with you so his head rests on your chest.

You look down at your boy in his exhausted state. You kiss the top of his head as he dozes back off to sleep, nuzzling the side of his face against your collarbone.

“Never have I ever… risked my life for someone.” You whisper, entangling your fingers in the strands of his hair. You feel him huff against you, the breath from his laugh caressing your hospital gown.

Gently, you feel one of his fingers press down harder onto your hand as it clasps yours.

“You love to win this game.” He mutters back to you, kissing your chest softly as you feel his eyelashes flutter against your skin.

“Maybe, but I love someone else much more.”

🤍🤍🤍🤍🤍

[focusonkayjay]

between the ride and the roses (15)

Pairing: Jungkook x (f.) Reader

Genre/Tags: biker/ motorcycle shop owner! jungkook x flower shop owner! reader, enemies to lovers, opposites attract, slow burn, angst, smut, fluff

Word count: 5.4k+

Series summary: There's an insane turn of events when your calm and peaceful life is intruded by Jungkook, a biker boy who sets up his loud business right next to your own. Your paths cross under unlikely circumstances, starting with a clash of personalities but gradually you find yourself establishing a deeper connection with the annoyingly attractive biker jerk. You both have no idea what's in store for you guys as you try your best to put up with each other.

Chapter Warnings: angst, angst and angst, mature language, mention of injuries, stitches.

A/N: happy taehyung day !! <3 it's still the 30th where i live and i truly hope that tae had a day filled with love and happiness.

in light of everything, i also want to acknowledge the heartbreaking tragedy of the plane crash in korea. my heart goes out to all the victims and their families, and i am sending my deepest condolences. may they find peace, and may those we've lost rest in peace🕊️

part 15: carnation crash

The second Jungkook pulls the door open, his eyes land on you, and the sight sends a sharp pang through his chest. Your disheveled state, the bandage wrapped around your head and the one on your hand doesn’t escape him.

His mind races with questions. He wonders how you got here at this hour. Did you walk all this way? The very thought carves an ache deep into him, one he struggles to name.

“Y/n?” he finally manages, his voice low. “Kook…” you breathe out, and the sound of your voice... so drained, so heavy with fear and unease sends his heart into freefall. You don’t wait for him to say more. Stepping forward, you wrap your arms around his torso, clinging to him.

Jungkook freezes for a moment, startled, but then he exhales and wraps his arms around you, pulling you close. With one hand, he carefully reaches behind to shut the door, cocooning you both in the quiet of his apartment.

“Did you walk here?” he asks softly, his voice laced with concern. You nod weakly against his chest. “I missed you.” you whisper, and the raw vulnerability in your words almost undoes him.

He bites down on his lower lip, hard, fighting the urge to crumble. He knows he can’t let himself weaken… not now, not when he feels like the very reason for your pain.

“Let me get you some water.” he says quietly, carefully removing your hands from his torso. His touch lingers, hesitant, but he doesn’t meet your eyes as he turns and walks towards the kitchen.

You trail after him, your gaze fixed on his figure. You can’t help but notice the tension in his shoulders, the way he avoids looking your way. He searches for a glass, his movements slow yet restless, and his teeth worry at his lower lip.

“Kook...” you call out softly, breaking the suffocating silence. “Why didn’t you come to the hospital?” The question lingers in the air, heavy and unyielding. He freezes mid-motion, an empty glass in his hand, and finally turns to face you. The light from the kitchen spills over him, illuminating every detail you hadn’t noticed before.

Your breath hitches. His face, bruised and battered, tells a story you know he won’t voice. The gash on his lip glints faintly under the overhead light, but it’s his eyes... red, swollen, brimming with a guilt so profound it seems to engulf him. The physical wounds are merely the surface, it’s the storm raging beneath that terrifies you.

“Did you get into a fight?” you ask, your voice trembling as you step closer. He doesn’t answer. His jaw clenches, and he turns away, his shoulders taut as if trying to bear the crushing weight of your question. He sets the glass down on the counter, gripping it tightly, as though it’s the only thing grounding him.

“Kook, look at me.” Your voice wavers, raw with the strain of emotions you’ve kept bottled up. When he still doesn’t respond, you close the distance, gently cupping his face in your hands to make him look at you. His skin is warm beneath your touch, but his expression remains cold, distant.

“I told you to stop this.” Your voice cracks. “You promised me you wouldn’t get into fights—”

“How could I not?” he snaps suddenly, his voice sharp, the edge of it cutting through you. You pull your hands back, startled by the intensity of his tone. His hands clench into fists at his sides as he looks at you, his eyes ablaze with a fury born of anguish. “After what Mingyu did? After what happened to you?”

Your chest tightens as the weight of his words sinks in. “Kook, I never asked you to fight him—”

“You didn’t have to!” His voice rises, breaking under the force of his emotions. “Do you think I could just stand there and do nothing? Let him get away with it? After I saw... your shop, the ruins, the broken pots... do you have any idea what that did to me?” His voice trembles, and his fists tighten further. “I saw what he tried to do to you, Y/n. To us. Do you think I could just let that go?”

“Kook, you’re not listening to me—”

“No, you’re not listening to me!” he yells, his voice shattering the fragile space between you. “I couldn’t come to the hospital because I couldn’t face you, okay? I couldn’t... I couldn’t see you like that, knowing it's all my fault.”

You step back, stunned. “Your fault? Kook, none of this is your fault. Mingyu is the one who—”

“But it started with me!” he cuts you off, his voice breaking. “If I hadn’t moved next door to you, if I hadn’t been such an ass to you from the very start, if I hadn’t—” His voice falters, his breath hitching as he tries to steady himself. “You’d still have your peace, Y/n. Your shop wouldn’t be in ruins. You wouldn’t be hurt.”

“Kook, stop.” Your voice trembles as you take a step closer, desperate to reach him. “You can’t blame yourself for this. Mingyu’s actions are his, not yours.” you explain.

But he shakes his head, his eyes glistening. “He came after you because of me. Because he figured out what you mean to me. Because he realized that hurting you was the easiest way to get to me.”

Your breath catches at his words. His voice softens, but the pain in it sharpens every syllable. “I... I promised myself I’d protect you, Y/n. But look at you now... bandaged, bruised, broken... all because I couldn’t keep you safe.”

“That’s not true.” you whisper, your voice thick with tears. “You didn’t do this to me, Kook. Mingyu did.” you try again, desperate to make him understand.

He exhales shakily, running a trembling hand through his hair. A bitter laugh escapes him, heavy with self-loathing. “It’s so hard for me to look at you…” he mutters, as if confessing to himself more than to you. His words hit like a hammer, and your heart feels on the verge of shattering.

“To act like I’m not the reason for the chaos in your life...for everything wrong that has happened to you... I've always been an ass to you... made you cry... and it scares me because I just—” He stops abruptly, his words hanging unfinished, but the weight of what he wants to say is almost suffocating.

“You just what, Kook?” you whisper, your voice barely audible. “You just what?”

His eyes lock with yours, and for a fleeting moment, you think you can see everything he’s been holding back. His lips part, but then he steps back, retreating from the vulnerability threatening to spill over. “It doesn’t matter...” he exhales, his voice cold and detached now, the walls he’s been trying to build, slamming back into place.

“It does matter.” you cry, your voice breaking. “It matters to me, Kook. You matter to me.”

“No. Not anymore.” he says firmly, his tone void of the warmth you so desperately seek. “What matters is that... that I can’t keep doing this. I can’t keep pretending like I’m good for you.”

“You’re wrong.” you sob, stepping closer, but he moves back, the distance between you widening like an unbridgeable gap. “You’re so wrong.”

“You deserve better. Someone who doesn’t bring chaos into your life. Someone who—”

“Stop it!” you plead, your voice trembling under the weight of your sobs. “Stop trying to decide what’s best for me! You don’t get to do that, Kook.” Your chest rises and falls with each shaky breath as you lock eyes with him, desperately hoping to find a flicker of understanding, a shared agreement. “You are good for me.”

“I really... I really wish I was.” he murmurs, his voice barely a whisper. The words hang in the air, an unwelcome silence settling between you, and as he looks at you one final time, his expression is a heart-wrenching blend of longing and devastation.

Then, before you can respond, he takes a step closer, grabbing your wrist... not harshly, but firmly enough that you know he’s not letting go.

“Kook, what are you doing?” you ask, panic creeping into your voice as he begins pulling you towards the door. “Let me go! Kook, stop!” you protest, trying to dig your heels into the floor, but his grip remains steady, unyielding.

“We’re done talking.” he says, his voice low but resolute as he steps out of his house and drags you down the stairs of his apartment building. Within seconds, the cool night air hits your face as he pulls you outside. Your heart pounds, confusion and heartbreak intertwining in a chaos.

“Kook, please, just let me—”

He doesn’t respond, doesn’t even look at you as he steps onto the curb and flags down a passing cab. The car screeches to a halt right in front of you, and before you can process what’s happening, he’s opening the door and guiding you inside.

“Kook, stop this!” you plead, your voice shaking as you push against his arm, but he doesn’t budge. His grip on your wrist is firm yet gentle, his jaw set with an unwavering determination.

“Please don’t do this, Jungkook.” you plead, your voice cracking as you reluctantly slide into the backseat, your gaze fixed on him through the window. You reach for the door handle, but he presses his palm firmly against it, stopping you from opening it.

With his hand still on the cab door, he leans towards the driver, his body tense. His voice is steady, yet it trembles with the weight of his emotions. “Please take her home safely.” he says, quickly rattling off your address, his urgency leaving no space for refusal.

Through the glass, you see him standing there, his hands stuffed deep into his pockets, his head bowed low as he steps away from the car. He doesn’t look at you, not even when the driver starts the car and pulls away from the curb.

You twist in your seat, craning your neck to keep him in view for as long as possible. But he doesn’t move. Doesn’t look. Doesn’t chase after you. He stays rooted to the spot, growing smaller and smaller in the distance.

Tears blur your vision, streaming freely down your face as the reality of his actions sinks in. The ache in your chest intensifies, a searing pain that feels like it could tear you apart. You press a trembling hand against your mouth, trying to stifle the sobs that grow louder with each passing moment.

The driver glances at you through the rearview mirror, his expression softening at the sight of your distress. Reaching near the gear shift, he carefully pulls out a small packet of tissues. Without saying a word, he extends his hand towards the back seat, offering the tissues to you.

You take them weakly. “Thank you...” you whisper, though your voice is barely audible over your quiet sobs. The kindness only makes you cry harder, and you clutch the tissues tightly, using them to wipe your face.

The throbbing stitches on your forehead and the sting of the cut on your hand are nothing compared to the fire raging in your chest. Every breath feels like a struggle as your mind replays the last few minutes over and over again.

What just happened? How did it come to this? How could someone who held you so gently let you go so forcefully?

You sit there trembling in the backseat, tears streaming down your face as the weight of it all crashes down on you. The faint hum of the car engine fades into the background as your thoughts spiral, mourning the loss of something that burned so brightly yet lasted so briefly.

Your hands clutch the tissues the driver gave you as the trembling in your fingers betrays your fragile state. You try to understand Jungkook... his guilt, his torment. You try to make sense of his words, of his actions. But no matter how hard you try, you can’t understand why he thinks this is the solution when it so clearly isn’t.

Why couldn’t he just hold you tonight? Why couldn’t he just ease your fears instead of letting his own guilt push you away?

The questions churn in your mind, each one cutting deeper than the last. Your chest feels tight, every breath a battle as you remember the look on his face... the way he couldn’t even meet your eyes, the way he chose to make you leave instead of trying to comfort you.

After the day you’d had, the chaos, the fear, the pain, all you wanted was him. You needed him to be there for you, to remind you that you weren’t alone, that things would be okay.

But instead, he let his guilt dictate his actions, and now here you are, alone in the backseat of a cab, the town lights casting fleeting shadows across your tear-streaked face. A bitter ache blooms in your chest, spreading through you like wildfire as the betrayal of his decision sinks in.

How could he not see what you needed? How could he think that leaving you like this... so harshly, so suddenly... was what would make you happy?

Your trembling grows worse, your body reacting to the storm inside you as the cab continues its journey through the quiet streets. You don’t even notice the driver’s occasional glances of concern anymore... you’re too lost in your thoughts, replaying every moment, every word, every touch that led to this point.

Meanwhile, Jungkook barely makes it inside his apartment before his knees give out the second he enters. Sliding down against the door, he collapses, his body trembling as sobs tear through him.

For the first time in years, he lets himself break completely. The sound is raw, jagged, his cries dragging painfully through his throat as he struggles to catch his breath.

The weight of his actions crashes over him, bitter and relentless, like thorns piercing every corner of his soul. He hates himself, hates the choice he made, hates the pain he saw etched into your face as you looked at him, so fragile, so vulnerable.

But the guilt, the overwhelming culpability, feels even worse. He tells himself he did this for you, to protect you, to spare you from the chaos he seems to bring.

And yet, every fiber of his being aches for you, but to love you, he believes, comes at a cost... a cost that risks your peace, your safety.

And if he has to love you from a distance, from the shadows of a life apart, then so be it. He clings to that thought like a lifeline, convincing himself that this is what’s best, even as the emptiness gnaws at him.

For now, he decides, this is what is right. This is the sacrifice he must make.

//

You stay in bed, cocooned under the heavy blanket, clutching a pillow tightly to your chest as if it could somehow hold you together. The morning sky outside is gloomy, gray clouds mirroring the shallow darkness of your room.

Tears stream steadily down your face, your blocked nose and dry throat adding to the discomfort that seems to settle in your very bones.

Just fifteen minutes ago, Taehyung called, his voice warm and reassuring as he informed you that he and the others were already at your shop, overseeing the repair work. He told you not to worry, that everything would be taken care of. But honestly? Worrying about your shop is the last thing on your mind right now.

Because a shop can be fixed. It can be refurbished, repainted, and restored to what it once was. But your heart? That’s a different story. You’re not sure if this ache in your chest can be repaired, not after last night.

You haven’t slept a wink since the minute you got home. The blanket feels suffocating yet necessary, the only thing holding you together against the cold mattress beneath. You sniffle, burying your face deeper into the pillow, as if it could absorb the emotions tearing you apart.

Jungkook. His name, his face, his voice... it’s all you can think about. The way he looked at you, the way he slammed the cab door shut, and the way he didn’t look up once as the cab drove away. It’s like a cruel replay in your mind, over and over, until it physically hurts.

You’re sad. You’re angry. You’re confused. You’re everything at once, and it’s overwhelming. Part of you wants to scream at him, to yell and demand answers about his cruel decision.

The other part of you aches for him, misses him with an intensity you can’t describe. It’s a mess... a tangled, aching mess. And all you can do is lie there, tears soaking into the pillow, as the weight of it all crashes over you again and again.

Hours stretch endlessly, a haze of grief and exhaustion anchoring you to the bed. You feel lifeless, too weak to eat, to shower, even to redress your wounds.

The world outside darkens, shadows spilling into your room as the sky shifts to twilight. By now, your cheeks are dry, though your eyes burn from endless tears, and your body feels heavy, hollow, like a corpse waiting to be claimed.

You never thought you’d be like this over someone.

But this is Jungkook.

The realization hits you, sharp and painful, as the weight of his absence settles like a boulder in your chest. He means so much to you, more than you even allowed yourself to admit before.

This unrelenting ache, this unbearable toll... it's the answer to a question you never thought to ask yourself. You never imagined you could be so consumed by the loss of someone, so utterly dismantled.

With a sudden surge of determination, you sit up abruptly. Your hair is disheveled, and your shirt hangs loosely off your shoulder, but you don’t care. You can’t just sit here, drowning in sorrow because of his hasty, senseless decision. This isn’t fair... not to him, not to you.

He doesn’t get to walk away like this. He doesn’t get to make this choice alone, to break something that doesn’t deserve to be broken.

You need to see him.

You need to tell him everything... the hurt, the love, the anger, the ache. You need closure. You need to fight for this, for him, for yourself.

Hastily, you climb off the bed, the disheveled sheets a testament to your restless hours. You don’t care about the mess, your tear-streaked face, or the wild tangle of your hair.

The thought of fixing yourself up doesn’t even cross your mind. You grab your sandals with trembling hands, slipping them on in such a rush that you don’t even notice they’re both on the wrong feet, and storm out the front door without a second thought.

The cold evening air bites at your skin as you run, your breath puffing in small clouds in front of you. But you don’t stop. You can’t stop. Your heart pounds with every step, driven by an urgency that blocks out everything else.

When you finally near your shop, you catch a glimpse of workers moving about, carrying tools and materials. Taehyung’s voice echoes faintly as he supervises the repairs, but you barely register it. Your focus is locked on the shop next door.

The lights are still on.

Without hesitation, you stride to the entrance. Your hands tremble as you grip the door handle, pushing it open with more force than necessary.

Jungkook stands behind the counter, busy with a crumpled receipt in his hand. The moment you step inside, his head snaps up, eyes widening at your sudden, unannounced presence.

He looks startled, unprepared, but you don’t stop. Your steps are uneven, your breathing labored, and the weight of everything you’ve been holding in presses down on you as you approach him.

“You think you can just walk away from everything? From me? From us?” Your voice cuts through the silence, trembling yet forceful, raw with emotion.

Jungkook freezes, his face unreadable, but his eyes betray him. They scan you slowly, taking in the worn-out t-shirt slipping off your shoulder, the wrinkled sweatpants clinging to your frame, and the mismatched sandals on your feet.

You look disheveled, undone... but it’s the tear-streaked face and red, swollen eyes that hit him the hardest.

“You want to take the blame for everything?” you cry, your voice growing louder as the pain spills out. “Fine, Jungkook! Take the blame. Be the hero. But guess what? Walking away doesn’t fix anything. It doesn’t fix me, it doesn’t fix you, and it sure as hell doesn’t fix whatever you think you’re protecting me from!”

Your voice cracks, and you clutch your chest as though trying to hold your heart together before it shatters completely.

“I needed you…” The sob tears its way out of you, your voice breaking as tears stream down your cheeks. “I needed you, Jungkook. Yesterday, I was… I was so fucking scared… I thought I was going to lose my mind. I thought—” You falter, struggling to find the words, but push through. “I thought you’d be there for me. I thought you’d hold me and tell me it was going to be okay. But you—”

Your voice wavers, anger seeping into your tone as you glare at him through the tears. “You didn’t show up. You shut me out, and when I came to find you, you wouldn’t even look at me. And if that wasn’t bad enough, you just decided to force me to leave and then walk away? How could you do that? How could you just… be so... so harsh?"

Jungkook’s jaw tightens, his throat bobbing as he swallows hard. But he doesn’t say a word. He just stands there, rooted in place, his guilt and anguish written all over his face as he sees you unravelling.

“You think this makes you noble?” you shout, your voice rising with every word. “You think breaking me like this is some grand gesture of love? Newsflash, Jungkook... it’s not! You can’t just destroy someone in the name of protecting them!”

Your fists clench at your sides as you step closer, standing right in front of him. “You say you want to protect me, but do you even realize what you’re doing to me? You’re killing me, Jungkook. Every second without you feels like I’m being ripped apart, piece by piece.”

Your fists come up, weak and shaky, and you hit his chest... not to hurt him, but because you don’t know what else to do with the storm raging inside you. “You’re a coward.” you sob, hitting him again. “You’re such a jerk!”

“Such…” Another hit.

“A…” And another.

“Jerk!”

Your hands fall limp against his chest, and your tears flow harder. “I can’t do this...” you whisper, shaking your head as your voice trembles. “I can’t keep pretending I’m okay when I’m not. You’re breaking me, Jungkook. You’re breaking me, and I don’t know how to stop it.”

You clutch the fabric of his shirt, your hands trembling, your forehead pressed desperately against his chest. “I love you…” you sob, the words breaking free before you can stop them. “I love you so much it hurts. And you—” your voice cracks as you pause, choking on your tears.

Jungkook’s breath catches in his throat, the sound sharp and pained. You said it. You said the very words he’s been carrying on the tip of his tongue for what feels like forever.

Usually, this should’ve been a moment of joy, a moment where the world stood still in happiness, but instead, it’s devastating.

He should’ve been the one to say it first, to hold you close and profess the depths of his love without hesitation. But now, here you are, unraveling in front of him.

The words fall from your lips not as a declaration but as a plea, a raw, desperate attempt to keep from losing everything. He feels the weight of your emotions, the depth of your vulnerability, and it cuts him deeper than he thought possible.

In another life, another time, those words would have lit up his world. But here and now, they tear him apart because they come wrapped in heartbreak, in the unbearable fragility of this moment.

Your voice softens into a trembling whisper, heavy with anguish. “You’re just standing there, letting me fall apart. I don’t understand why. I don’t understand how you can do this to us.”

The silence that follows is unbearable, suffocating in its weight. Jungkook doesn’t move, doesn’t speak, his eyes shimmering with unshed tears.

His silence presses down on you, crushing and unrelenting, until it feels like the very air between you has turned into a barrier you can’t break through.

You let out a bitter, broken laugh, shaking your head as you take a step back. “You can’t even say anything, can you? You can’t even tell me why you’re doing this.”

Your chest heaves as you draw in a shaky breath. “You know what, Jungkook? If you want to be a coward, then just be one. If this is how you think love works… if this is all you’re capable of… then maybe I was wrong about you all along.”

The words hang heavy in the air, sharp and cutting. You see him flinch, but you don’t stop.

“You’re selfish. You’re nothing but a scared little boy who runs the moment things get hard. So go ahead, Jungkook. Walk away. But don’t you dare think you’re doing this for me. You’re doing this because you’re too much of a coward to fight for what really matters.”

Your voice cracks, and without waiting for a response, you turn and storm out of the shop. The cold air hits your face, but you don’t stop walking, your tears blurring the path ahead.

Jungkook stands frozen in the middle of the shop, the silence suffocating. His hands shake as they curl into fists at his sides, your words reverberating in his mind.

A soft cough breaks the stillness. Yoongi steps out of the storeroom, hands shoved into his pockets as he leans against the doorframe. He watches Jungkook for a moment, the tears streaming down his face and the turmoil etched into his features.

“Didn’t mean to eavesdrop.” Yoongi mutters as he steps into the room, his tone calm but cutting. His sharp eyes land on Jungkook, who remains frozen, staring at the door you just stormed out of. “But… damn, Kook, you really outdid yourself this time.”

Jungkook doesn’t answer. His chest feels like it’s caving in, each breath heavier than the last as your words echo relentlessly in his mind. Yoongi sighs, stepping closer, the sound of his boots faint against the shop’s worn floor.

“You’re a goddamn idiot.” Yoongi says, though his voice carries no malice... just weariness, disappointment. “There’s a fine line between protecting someone and pushing them away, and you’re not walking that line. You’re sprinting straight into the void.”

Jungkook’s jaw tightens, his shoulders slumping under the weight of Yoongi’s words.

“So let me get this straight...” Yoongi continues, his tone sharper now. “You fought Mingyu yesterday, got yourself beat to hell, didn’t visit her... didn’t even check on her... knowing she was hurt. You let her come all the way to your place, injured and worried, and then you forced her to leave... just so you could throw more salt into her wounds?”

Jungkook flinches, guilt painted across his face.

“And for what, huh? What did you think you’d accomplish?” Yoongi demands, stepping closer. “What did you think you’d prove by punching a guy who thrives off chaos? Mingyu? That bastard doesn’t give a fuck. He won’t change.”

“I—” Jungkook starts, but Yoongi cuts him off with a harsh laugh.

“No. Don’t give me excuses.” Yoongi snaps, his calm exterior cracking just enough to show the frustration bubbling underneath. “I’ve known you long enough to see through that. Just tell me... what the hell did you think would happen after fighting that motherfucker?”

Jungkook’s voice is barely above a whisper. “He said he’d leave her alone if I gave him my bike.”

Yoongi freezes, his brow furrowing as the words sink in. “Your bike?” he repeats slowly, the disbelief clear. “You gave up your bike to that scumbag?”

Jungkook nods, shame pulling his head down like a weight.

Yoongi exhales sharply, running a hand through his hair as realization dawns. “So that’s why you came walking to the shop today? You actually gave it to him?”

Another nod.

“Unbelievable.” Yoongi groans, leaning heavily against the counter. He closes his eyes for a moment, pinching the bridge of his nose before looking at Jungkook again. “You’re the most self-sacrificing fool I’ve ever met.”

Jungkook sniffs, wiping his face with the back of his hand, but Yoongi isn’t done.

"You think giving up your bike was noble? Maybe it was. But do you think it made her feel any less hurt? Less abandoned? Less... unloved?” Yoongi’s voice softens, though his words remain as sharp as ever. “Because that’s what this all boils down to, doesn’t it? You think hurting yourself makes you the hero of this story.”

Jungkook looks up at him, eyes rimmed red. “He said he’d leave her alone.” he whispers, his voice trembling. “He said if I gave him my bike, he’d back off.” he tries to prove his point.

Yoongi sighs, disbelief clouding his face. “And you believed him?”

Jungkook looks down, shame pulling his head lower again. “I just wanted her to be safe.”

“You think safety is all she needs ?!” Yoongi’s voice rises, his frustration spilling over. “Jungkook, you don’t love someone by giving them walls to live behind. You love them by standing beside them, even when it’s hard.... especially when it’s hard.”

Yoongi exhales sharply, his frustration barely contained. “You’ve got a good heart, Kook, but you’re an idiot when it comes to love. You think hurting yourself makes you some kind of hero, but all it does is make her feel more alone. And you? You look like a coward. Because that’s what you’re doing... running. Hiding behind guilt and these grand gestures no one asked for.”

Jungkook tries to speak, but Yoongi cuts him off with a sharp glare.

“You need to stop running, Kook.” Yoongi says, his voice firm but laced with an odd gentleness. “You’ve been running ever since the moment you realized you liked her. Afraid to show her the depth of it. Afraid to let her see you vulnerable. And what has it gotten you? Nothing but pain.”

Jungkook swallows hard, his eyes shining with unshed tears. “I just... don't want her to get hurt again...” he murmurs, his voice cracking.

“And yet, you hurt her yourself.” Yoongi counters softly. “Look, I get it. Love is messy. It’s terrifying. But it’s also the only thing worth fighting for. And not with your fists, Kook. With your heart.”

Jungkook’s tears spill over, his hands trembling at his sides. Yoongi steps closer, placing a firm hand on his shoulder. “You’ve got one chance to make this right.” he says. “Stop thinking about how to protect her and start thinking about how to be there for her. She doesn’t need a savior. She needs you.”

Yoongi lets the silence linger for a moment before sighing and straightening up.

“Also… about your bike...” he adds, his tone softening slightly. “I’ll take care of that. You? All you need to think about is how to make it up to Y/n. If you really don’t want to lose her, Kook, you need to fix this.”

Jungkook looks up at him, a flicker of hope mixed with despair in his watery eyes. Yoongi squeezes his shoulder once more before stepping back, his gaze steady and unwavering.

"Love isn’t supposed to be easy." Yoongi says quietly, his voice steady and resolute. "But it’s worth every damn scar. Don’t run away from it, Kook. Don’t throw it away just because it’s hard."

<- part 14 // final ->

series masterlist

taglist:@kimyishin @ghijkd @dolligguk @mimi1097 @jksusawife @yooforeaa @abbie1847 @myjungkookthighs @thesarcasmqueen-22 @fairypjminie @lovelytaes-blog @jjeonjjk7 @daddyjeonnn @vantelover1306 @jeeykey @shellyyy177 @daskewl @blackswan18 @korian97 @minimoninini @ericawantstoescape @rpwprpwprpwprw @tokkiggukie @jaytheatiny

[wholoveseggs]

I am currently dealing with my mother being in end care hospice for Alzheimer’s, dreading every time my phone makes a noise because it could be the worst news. I am spending my time either sobbing or a complete zombie with a barely functional brain. (I put a spray bottle in the freezer instead of the drink I was chilling). I live alone and have no close friends or family near me and I just wish I had an Elijah to hold me. I just wish I could lay on top of him in bed, him holding me and petting my hair while I cry.

I totally understand if this is not something you’re comfortable writing, but if you are, I’d really appreciate it. If nothing else, I thank you for reading my message.

Anchor

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

{Elijah Mikaelson x Reader} Grief threatens to overwhelm you, but Elijah's calming presence becomes your anchor, reminding you that even in your darkest hours, you are not alone.

♡♡ I love you, anon, and I’m so incredibly sorry that you’re going through this. My heart aches for you, and I hope that this fic can offer you even the smallest moment of comfort. You are not alone, and I’m sending you so much love and strength~ ♡♡

672 words - Warnings: angst, grief, comfort & cuddles

When you are a child, your parents are this big, strong figure. They seem invincible and all-knowing. But then you grow up. And one day, you realize that your parents aren't superman. They aren't invincible and they certainly aren't infallible. Your parents, the same people who were your entire world as a kid, are suddenly human. And sometimes, humans get sick.

Everyone reacts differently, and there's no right or wrong way to feel. There's no road map or set of instructions on how to mourn. You can be angry, or sad, or numb, or all three at the same time. It's a roller coaster, a freefall, and you never know when the next wave of emotions will hit. It's okay to feel what you feel. It's okay to want to hide. And it's also okay to want to be with someone, to have someone to lean on.

You can't change the fact that your parents got sick, and you can't change the outcome. The limbo of losing them while they are still alive is a terrible feeling, like an emotional purgatory. All you can do is focus on yourself, and remember that the pain will pass, eventually.

It was one of those nights when the weight of the world felt unbearable, crushing your chest and making it hard to breathe. You sat curled up on your couch, terrified to look at your phone, waiting for a call you dreaded yet knew was inevitable.

You didn’t notice Elijah’s presence at first. It wasn’t unusual for him to move like a shadow, quiet and gentle, especially when he knew you were hurting. He stood in the doorway for a moment, his dark eyes full of concern, before approaching you with the kind of care only he could manage.

"My love," he said softly, his voice a soothing balm to your frayed nerves. He knelt in front of you, resting his hand on your knee. "You needn't face this alone."

His words broke something inside you. The dam of composure you tried so desperately to maintain crumbled, and the tears you’d been holding back poured out in waves. Elijah didn’t hesitate. He pulled you into his arms, holding you tightly as your sobs wracked your body.

He carried you to your bed, sitting with his back against the headboard and coaxing you to lay on top of him. His arms wrapped securely around you, one hand rubbing slow, soothing circles on your back while the other ran through your hair with a tenderness that brought fresh tears to your eyes.

"You’re allowed to grieve," he murmured against your temple. "You’re allowed to feel lost, to feel overwhelmed. But know that I am here. You do not have to carry this burden on your own."

You clung to him like a lifeline, your fingers curling into the fabric of his shirt as though letting go would send you spiraling into the abyss.

"I feel like I’m breaking, Elijah," you choked out. "I don’t know how to do this."

He kissed the top of your head, his lips lingering there for a moment. "You don’t have to be okay right now. You’re enduring something no one should have to endure alone. But you are stronger than you realize, and I will hold you through every moment of doubt and despair."

His words wrapped around you like a warm blanket, and though the pain didn’t vanish, the sharp edges dulled ever so slightly. His steady heartbeat beneath your ear became an anchor, a reminder that even in your darkest hours, you had someone who cared deeply for you.

As your breathing evened out and the tears subsided, Elijah continued to stroke your hair, whispering soft reassurances. His presence didn’t fix everything. It couldn’t. But it made the unbearable seem just a little more manageable.

For the first time in what felt like an eternity, you closed your eyes and let yourself rest, knowing that Elijah would be there, steadfast and unyielding, for as long as you needed him.

[hyacintheros]

It's Called: Freefall

|| (Morpheus/Dream of the Endless x Fem!Reader)

Main Masterlist

Pairing: Morpheus/Dream of the Endless x Fem!Reader

Warnings: A smidge of angst

Word Count: 1.7k

Synopsis: In the Dreaming, a once vibrant realm now lies in ruins after Morpheus' century-long absence, leaving the Queen and Lucienne struggling to maintain its remnants. When Morpheus finally returns, weak and broken, the Queen's unwavering love brings him solace, as they begin the journey of restoring both the realm and his shattered heart.

The Dreaming, once home to beautifully lush forests and paths for its visitors to travel through, now lays grey and barren, stones and ash replacing the garden.

"Lucienne? What do you think?" The girl says, once Queen of this land, now one of the only inhabitants left.

"I think it's wonderful, My Lady. Though, how long do you think they will last this time? We got about a week out of them last time we tried." Lucienne remarks, wanting to be helpful with the new garden, but she knows it won't last, not without Morpheus.

"We'll do what we can, hopefully I can find something in the library that may help us this time around." The librarian says, walking off.

Though before she can really go anywhere, the air around them changes. Once tense and stuffy for a century, now feeling like a breath of fresh air. Confused by this, both women look at each other.

They go to the gates of the Dreaming, hoping to not find an intruder, they've had quite the few 'visitors', usually Lucifer wanting whatever is left of the Dreaming.

Instead, they find a naked Morpheus, a body the Queen knew very well. She rushes over, covering him with her cloak. Her hands travel all over him, touching his face and chest, trying to etch it into her brain.

"Morpheus..?" She whispers, barely audible. He looks at her, tears welling in his eyes, he looks terribly weak and vulnerable. A state she's only seen once before, when Orpheus died many years in the past.

He envelopes her in a desperate hug, inhaling her scent, practically eating her whole. Lucienne watches, a little awkwardly. They stay like that, just taking each other in, wordlessly.

Morpheus pulls away, reluctant, still keeping a hand on her. He observes the area, looking at the devastation that whisked in his departure. His palace in literal crumbles, the land is practically barren, their dimension in ruins..

She takes him back to the palace, Lucienne following close behind and updating him on what had occurred. They really did try their best, with Y/N's magic and Lucienne's library, but never could they be as powerful as Morpheus.

“The residents slowly left, most held hope you would come back, but after fifty years or so…” Y/N Mutters, holding onto him as if he were such a delicate crystal, her fingertips burning Morpheus skin in the most touch-starved way possible. One hundred and six years of no physical contact with another being, just in a stupid hamster ball. He’s practically melting into the girl.

They arrived at a wing of the rubbled palace, a few chambers still held up, ushering Morpheus to take a shower and relax. “Darling, are you alright? You’re so pale and gaunt.. Let me see if Abel and Cain have something for you to munch on!” His wife says in a hurry, off to see what they can offer. Though before she can go on her adventure, Morpheus tugs on her wrist, not wanting her to leave.

“Stay, my love.. I will recover when I rest, but please just stay by my side.” She knows he has a double meaning, smiling so sweetly at him, as if he were the stars and she were the moon. “I’ll always be here, even if the sun falls and the moon bursts into pieces, I’ll stand by your side.” She mutters to him as she pecks at his lips.

Morpheus is rarely an emotional person, but hearing that makes his heart feel like it was embroidered by her hands, string by string. He looks at his wife, still in the bathtub, and gives her a soft kiss. One filled with love, adoration, and absolute desperation.

She giggles as she pulls back, yet he chases her lips, capturing them once again. “You are drained and weak, there is much rest needed to be done before anything else!” she chides, finally pulling away from his reach. He rolls his eyes, submerging himself below the water.

The Queen chuckles, going to retrieve some clothing for his, as well as to prepare something for him to eat. Rummaging through the rest of his closet, she lands on a cloak that should still fit him. Laying it on the bed, she hurries to make something in the kitchen that always needs toe be repaired due to the crumbling nature of the realm.

“My Lady, would you like some help? Abel and Cain have graciously given some vegetables and a chicken they were raising.” Lucienne puts a basket of vegetables and a butchered chicken. “Oh that is lovely, I wish we had time to make chicken soup, but I think a roasted chicken would be quicker.”

She grabs the chicken, rubbing some seasoning and olive oil first, then pops it into the oven so it’ll be done about the same time as the vegetables. Lucienne helps prep the vegetables, peeling carrots and washing the cauliflower. Y/N is chopping everything up and making sure the stove is on with a pot of boiling water.

They wait a few minutes to time everything perfectly. In the meantime, they set up the dining table and wash anything that they had used in the cooking process. Lucienne pops back into the kitchen, salting the boiling water and drops the vegetables in. In return for the food, they have invited Abel and Cain to join them for dinner.

While Lucienne keeps an eye on the vegetables, Y/N pulls the chicken out of the oven and carving the meat away from the bones. Lucienne makes a quick gravy to serve over the chicken. They both plate everything up into serving dishes, humming a little tune and chatting about the recent duel they heard about in Hell.

Morpheus by this point has dried himself off and changed into the clothes Y/N left out for him. The smell coming from the kitchen urges him out of the room. Though Morpheus and his kind do not die from starvation, the feeling of pure hunger aches deep within.

“Dream? So it’s true! You’ve returned!” Abel envelopes him in a strong hug. Out of the two brothers, Abel has always been the more emotional one. Cain greets him, welcoming him back and giving a hug as well.

“So I take that you’ll be joining us for dinner?” Dream asks, sitting at his spot at the dining table. The brothers nod, taking their own respective seats. It's rare that they would get to dine with Morpheus, even before he left. Morpheus was much too busy to entertain guests, one of his deepest regrets when he was pondering his life in that fishbowl of a bubble.

Y/N and Lucienne bring out the dishes, serving everyone a hefty chunk of food. She briefly kisses Morpheus’ temple as she’s serving him, then returning to her own seat. There’s an elephant in the room that no one wants to address, making the atmosphere slightly tense. “You were gone for one hundred years, Dream.. Where were you?” Y/N cuts into her chicken while asking, trying to be super nonchalont.

Dream sighs, taking a bite of his potato before answering. “A man, he refused to accept the death of his son, leading him to try and make a deal with Death. He recited the incantation wrong or maybe it was the wrong spell entirely, but he had captured me instead. Kept trying to make a deal with me to bring his son back with mortal currencies and royalties, though it is not within my power to offer such things. He hated his youngest son, refused to accept him. But after he died, his son continued to keep me in this glass ball. His son killed Jessamy! What kind of person would do such a thing?? Only managed to escape because a guard had fallen asleep.” He rants on, enraged by such a depressing chapter of his life.

The rest of the table looks at each other worriedly as he explains, Y/N looking absolutely mortified. She puts a hand over his, trying to distract him, giving him a warm and sympathetic smile. She pours him more water, silently encouraging to drink more, knowing how dehydrated he must be.

Everyone is really awkward, not quite sure how to go about this. In the background, a piece of the west tower has fallen, leaving behind a huge boom. It doesn’t phase them, but Morpheus jumps up like a little kitten, looking around confused.

“Oh gosh, don’t worry sweetheart, come let’s take a walk,” She asks if Lucienne could finish cleaning up the dining table, which Lucienne accepts and wiggles her eyebrows. Y/N rolls her eyes in a teasing manner, holding Dream’s arm.

They walk to different parts of the realm, seeing how deserted and barren the land truly had become. Home’s were destroyed, dreams and nightmares loose, even Fiddler’s Green has gone! It brings him to literal tears, watching everything he has ever worked for be drained of it’s life.

“How dare they..? Take every litte piece of my world, my realm, my work! All for what? For some stupid boy who’s fought for his country? He played his part in life. Like every little domino in life, they fall, so what? You’ve ruined my life’s work, the entire reason of my existence for a son who tried so heavily to get away from your sick cult!?” He goes on and on, just venting his poor heart out to his wife.

She holds him in her arms, just like she did all those years ago.. “Muffin? Look at me.. shhh no it’s okay, cry it out love.” She’s petting his hair and playing with his hand. Morpheus has always been a tough man with little warmth in his heart, only ever reserved for Y/N. But being stuck in a hamster ball for a century has taken a toll on him, mentally speaking. Thinking of his life choices, his actions and words, regretting moments and missing out on so many things.

Now that he’s out of the horrible glass cage, Dream feels as though he’s found a saviour. Though Y/N was not able to save him from captivity, she did save him for the chains that weighed down his heart and mind. She saved him from the dark, festering thought that embedded themselves into his mind not even a whole day ago. Although there is much repair that is needed in his realm, in her arms, he is finally free.

[bubbles-for-all-of-us]

Send out an army to find you

request: can i please request a lorcan x reader where maeve kidnaps reader who is pregnant. She wants lorcans child because he left her service snd she wants someone sith his powers so she tries to keep reader until she gives birth but she is saved by him.

warnings: blood, implications of death, capture, pregnancy. The good stuff.

In other words your girl got carried away....

•••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

Lorcan felt as if the ground had cracked beneath his feet. He fell as if he was freefalling as if he knew that the only fate that awaited him was painful death. He sensed the panic through the bond while he and the rest of the cadre had been training in the woods. The sheer amount of it had made Lorcan's knees buckle. And then he ran. He ran like he had never run before. Body moving on its own, fully trusting his instincts. He didn't care that the house might be crawling with whatever creatures had managed to get inside. The sight of the door barely hanging on its hinges was enough to make bile rise in his throat, yet he strode inside.

"Y/N", he called, going from room to room. There was broken glass everywhere, the chairs in the dining room were broken to pieces, and the utensil drawer was open. All Lorcan could smell was panic. Pain. Fear. His heart was beating so fast, he could feel it all over his body. "Y/N", he shrieked once more. He smelled you still. And that could mean two things: either he was just a heartbeat too late, or you were still here. He prayed for the second. But when Lorcan darted upstairs to see handprints of blood all over the nursery, everything around him froze for a second. The worst fears dance freely in his mind. He didn't even realize when he had started roaring. Or when all of the darkness possessed by him manifested. Drowning out all the light, making all the greenery wilt.

Lorcan felt firm hands holding onto him, trying to pick up the mess. "Let go of me", the male roared. But that wish wasn't granted to him as other sets of hands gripped his face. "I'm going to kill...", Lorcan stated. "Who will you kill? Who, Lorcan?", it was Gavriel who stood right in front of him. Paler than before. Worry laced his features as well. "You need to think", Fenrys added from the side of him, making Lorcan grit his teeth as he spat, "I'm thinking! She's gone, she's...and the baby, that's...", Lorcan felt another wave of panic rush through him. Fear when he realized that he couldn't hold onto the bond that connected you both.

"Breathe", it was Rowan, whose cold wind twirled around Lorcan now, the male trashed in the grip of his friends. "No, you don't...", Lorcan's voice broke. "Breath, Lorcan", Rowan said softly again. Lorcan knew that Rowan, of all the males, knew how painful this felt. He had lost his pregnant partner. They had all watched him fight the demons that clouded his will to live after that. Lorcan sank to his knees, ripping at his chest in hopes of feeling at least any sense of warmth from your side.

The cadre had never seen Lorcan like this. Sure, you had cracked the deepest parts of the male. You had made his presence a lot more bearable. Maker, he smiled even. Smiled from his heart during the family dinner. His prickly side was pushed aside almost fully. Saved only for scaring people away and inflicting panic on the enemy. You were his everything, and to miss that would have been impossible. Rowan clasped Lorcan's shoulders. Yet no one dared to say a single word about what this could truly mean.

You slowly drifted back to consciousness. Frowning slightly once the unfamiliar surroundings began to emerge. Your hand immediately went to your bump as you looked around the stone cell. The sound of the metal shackles made you look down; your hands and ankles were chained. You instantly tried to pull on your mating bond. To call for Lorcan... But a pained cry left your mouth as you found it lifeless. No, you thought to yourself, they wouldn't have managed to kill Lorcan.

"Oh, how lovely to see you awake", the voice dripped venom, and your wild eyes looked at the queen you hoped you'd never have to see again. "What did you do?", You moved to sit up slowly. "I just wanted to see you. You have someone I want", the way she whispered made your body shiver. "What did you do to Lorcan, Maeve", you hissed, hands wrapped around your bump. The motherly instinct was on high alert. The queen smirked, "He used to be my best. You do know what an attentive lover in bed Lorcan was to me". You shook your head. You knew how she treated them all. How she played with them. She twisted her powers to make puppets out of them. Lorcan had never loved her. He had never cared for her.

"It was so hard for me to do this to him", Maeve purred. The panic swirled within you. She wouldn't; you told yourself, she wouldn't have. "I'll make sure the wound of losing him will heal", her voice pierced right through you. "No," you breathed out, "He's not dead. You're lying, bitch". The sympathetic look on her face made you sick. "No, what did you do? What did you do?", you launched forward, chains ringing as you pulled at them. "Now, now... You can't be doing all that. You're pregnant", the queen stepped forward. Her cold hand moved to touch the round swell forming. You tried to move your hands so you could claw at her face, but her magic kept you at bay. "The babe growing within you is like no other, dear", she said, slowly sweeping your tangled hair away from your face. Silent tears that rolled down your cheeks were the only indication of your real emotions that bubbled within. "I'll raise a one-of-a-kind worrier out of that, babe", her nails dug into your face, "You took Lorcan away from me; now your debts will be paid." You tried to scream, but she seized your consciousness, sending you into the dark, oblivious.

Every moment that passed was a moment too long for Lorcan. A heartbeat was wasted. He still didn't know if you were alive. He hoped for it. You had to. Rowan had explained the power that Maeve had when it came to twisting bonds between mates. Maeve. To think that his beautiful, sweet, pregnant wife was in the hands of that sadist. Lorcan knew that you could stand your ground, but he knew that Maeve would not hold back.

He let Gavriel and Rowan plot the plan. His brain was everywhere at the moment. Lorcan clutched the baby blanket you had knitted in his hand. He had been holding onto it for the past two weeks. Only managing to slip into restless sleep if the scent of you was close. "Do you agree, Lorcan?", Gavriel's voice made Lorcan stiffen. But the lion knew that he wasn't listening. "Let us handle Maeve. I know that you want to kill her", Gavriel's voice was calm, but Lorcan let out a bitter laugh, "Want? Want doesn't even come close to it". The lion nodded. "I know, we know, but it's best if you find Y/N in the castle and get the hell away from it". As sweet as revenge tasted, Lorcan knew that this plan was the only one. Because even he didn't trust himself to not get carried away.

You had no way to tell how many days had passed. You had tried to refuse all food and water, but your baby needed it. And as much as you had no will to carry on, the little kicks and squirms within you were the only things making you feel anything other than the void that painted your chest black. You were curled into a ball at the furthest corner of the cell. Holding onto your bump as you hummed slightly.

You hoped the rest of the family would come looking for you. You hoped that this void was just one of many twisted things that Maeve loved. But at this moment, you knew that it was only you. Only you could protect your unborn child from that sadist. She had told you all about it. How the baby would be hers. How she would take it under her wing and raise it as if it was her baby. You gritted your teeth.

The cell door cracked open. You stilled, gripping the metal plate you had filed against the stones, turning it into a somewhat makeshift weapon. You doubted it would be enough to kill her. But you were prepared to try anything by now. You counted the steps, bracing yourself for the blow.

Your hit, however, was met by a strong grip. You were ready to swing one more time as the warmth flooded your heart. "Y/N", you had never loved the sound of your name more than now. Your eyes met the familiar dark orbs. A breath hitched in your throat. Lorcan was standing right in front of you. Your mate was standing right in front of you. You couldn't help but let out a cry.

Lorcan's strong arms wrapped around you instantly. He wasn't expecting to find you here. He was about to turn around when his ears caught on to that familiar heartbeat. Your baby's heartbeat. Steady and strong. And so he leaped down the stairs into the dungeon. Only to find you in this damp, forgotten place.

"Look at me, does anything hurt?", his voice was sharp and calculated. Lorcan looked over your face at the scab on your cheek, yet you shook your head. "She told me...", you muttered. "Listen to me. Is the baby okay? You're feeling okay?", he was close to shaking; you had been dead in his mind for weeks now. He had mentally prepared to find your lifeless body. "Lorcan...", you choked out, sinking into his arms.

"I've got you, dove. I'll take you home. I will never let anyone take you or our baby away from me", he wasn't sure at this point if he was saying this to soothe you or himself more. You barely nodded as Lorcan leaned to scoop you up into his arms. You heard him mutter something else, something about staying awake, but your body was too tired. Your mind was too fried from all the lies that Maeve had told you. So you let yourself drift away.

The crackling sound of the fire woke you up. The room was dim, but in a comfortable way. It was warm, and it smelled of freshly made food. You blinked a couple of times. Your gaze followed the pressure on your thigh. A messy set of black hair met you. Lorcan was holding your hand, his head resting on your thigh as he slept, his free palm resting on your round stomach. You doubted the position was comfortable, and his shoulders, without doubt, would kill him once he woke up.

You reached down to brush his hair away from his face. You smothered the lively bond in your chest. Soaking in the warmth of it. "You have no idea how nice it is to feel you through the bond", Lorcan's voice was groggy, his eyes still closed. You gave him a sad smile, "I'm afraid I do... She told me that she killed you", you muttered. Lorcan rose slowly. His face looked grim. There was a sign of anger still there.

"I'm going to take my time when I...", Lorcan growled but you quickly clasped his hand, "Lorcan... promise me you won't go after her alone", you pleaded. You could tell that he wanted to argue back but his shoulders slumped as he let out a sigh. "How are feeling? The healer looked you over but... You can...", he broke out into yet another rant, and you reached out to him, cupping his cheek, "I'm okay, we're okay. Happy to have daddy back with us", you muttered, feeling your eyes filling up with tears.

Lorcan leaned into your touch before he clasped your hand in his, kissing it a couple of times. "I would raise armies for you and fight gods if I had to", he said, and you knew he meant all of it as he leaned closer, pressing his forehead against yours. "And I will always find you, both of you. I'll look till my very last breath", Lorcan's voice was barely a whisper as tears rolled down his cheeks. "I know, my love, I'd fight for our family with bare hands if I had to", you muttered, leaning into your mate so you could kiss him lovingly.

[dreamescapeswriting]

You Feel Like Home ~ Bang Chan [M]

WORD COUNT: 1.6K

GENRE: Smut minors DNI, soft, mentions of a breakup but soft ending, soft chan, soft smut, unprotected sex, soft, sweet, cute

PAIRING: Chan X Fem!Reader

⤜Copyright: © DreamEscapesWriting - September 2023

⤜MASTERLIST

A small sigh leaves your boyfriend's lips as he watches the back of your head, You were sitting at the small desk inside of his room at the dorms with a set of headphones over your head and he bit down on his tongue. This had been something Chan had dreaded from the moment he'd woken up that morning, Maybe dreading was the wrong word to use but he was certainly nervous. Tomorrow he was going to release a song but before it went out into the world he wanted you to be the first person to hear it. Since you had been part of the inspiration behind the entire thing.

What if you didn't like the song? What if it upset you more?

The two of you had just finished patching things up between you and now here he was potentially dragging up all of the bad memories for you from the last few weeks. 

The thing was, the two of you had called it quits on your relationship a few weeks ago, deciding that you needed a break from one another and it had been a pretty explosive fight. The two of you claimed that you were in the right when the truth was, you were right and Chan knew that now. Hence the song was his way of showing you his true feelings.

The night you'd walked out on him he turned to music, something he always did when he knew he needed a form of letting his feelings out,

"Channie," You sniffled turning around in his chair to look at him, his heart racing when he saw your eyes bloodshot and tears running down your cheeks. The song had been beautiful, gosh you hadn't even realised how much you were crying until you felt some of your tears falling onto your lap.

"Baby, don't cry." He begged reaching across and wiping your cheeks free from the tears but they continued to freefall as you got up and cuddled into his chest. Your arms wrapped around him tightly as you squeezed him as close to your body as possible, the song really opened your eyes. When the two of you had gotten into your fight a few weeks ago it was because you accused him of never showing his true feelings with you.

You'd always felt as though he was keeping a part of him hidden away, never being his true self with you or even showing everything he felt and that song changed everything.

"It was beautiful," You told him, sniffling a little as you looked up at him with your chin resting on his chest and his arms wrapped tightly around your waist. This moment right here was perfect and you never wanted it to end.

"I wanted to show you how I felt... I promise to do better from now on," He whispered before you gently cupped his face in your hands and brought him down into a soft kiss, your heart beating rapidly against his chest as you pulled him on top of you on the bed. 

"I need you." You told him as you pulled his sweats down, watching in amusement as he quickly kicked them off and swiftly pulled down your sweats and threw them across the room. Your lips met once again as you wrapped your legs around his waist and pulled him closer. Your heart pounds in your chest as he leans forward a little, lining himself up and looking at you,

"You sure?" He questioned, he didn't want to rush back into anything with you. The two of you had agreed on going back into things slowly and if you weren't sure about this he would walk away and go take a cold shower instead, but he needed you as much as you needed him.

"I've never been so sure about anything in my life," You told him as he pushed into you, one single stroke making your eyes water a little as your legs shook. It had been so long since the last time you were intimate with one another,

"I've got you, baby," He whispers, kissing your cheeks as he holds himself still inside of you, giving you some time to adjust to him before he begins to slowly pull back looking you in the eyes as you nod at him letting him know it was okay for him to continue.

"You feel like home," He moans out as he pulls out of you, pushing back into you softly as he moans your name out, your hands holding onto his arms as you look up at him with complete love in your eyes.

"You're my home," You told him, your back arching from the bed as he picked up the pace just a little, his thrusts causing your legs to tighten around his body, tugging him forward as he pushed deeper into you.

"I missed you," You moaned out as he pushed in and out of you, your hands moving to grip the sheets your head spinning a little as your orgasm built higher and higher.

"Oh fuck, I missed you too, baby," He moaned out as the pleasure builds inside of you, your orgasm slowly rising as you cry his name out and Chan looks down at you.

"Baby...I-I can't last very long," He grunted as he continued to push into you, It had been too long since he'd been with you like this and he wanted to savour every moment he had with you,

"Chan," You rasp out, your fingers digging into the sheets as he grunted loudly, something primal taking over him as he heard you moan like that for him.

"S-Say my name like that again," He grunts as he looks down at you, you smirk a little,

"Chan," You gasp out as he pushed into you, his cock brushing against the sensitive spot inside of you and he grunted hitting that same spot over and over again as your back arches from the bed. That same spot made you want to explode as he looked down at you,

"Chan! Chan! Don't stop!" You begged as he continued to thrust into you, both of you crying out each other's name as you cum around him. Chan's thrusts don't stop until they become shallower and jerkier as he rides out his own orgasm, his legs shaking a little.

The two of you lay there on his bed, your head resting on his chest as you both panted heavily against one another. Your eyes were heavy and you cuddled closer to him, not wanting to go home for the night as he pulled you into him.

"I love you," He told you as he looked down at you, his heart warming as he saw how sleepy you were against him.

"I love you too," You stated between a yawn, whimpering a little as Chan moved to grab a blanket to wrap you both up inside of.

Tagline: @chiisaiblog @hanasonmi @sw33tnight @taestannie @acciocriativity @scarletemeterio @halesandy @aerastus @laylasbunbunny @critssq @lenfilms @laylasbunbunny @btsiguess-kpop @djeniryuu @backintomykpopphaseagain @choisoorin

[pookietv]

clingy | arthurtv

another little illness drabble because i liked doing the george one!

when you got a call from arthur late at night, it was usually him calling to chat when he was bored, or to tell you some new fact that he had found wildly interesting.

so when you heard a slightly raspy, tired sounding arthur, you were a little taken aback.

"y/n?" was the first thing that came down the phone.

"hi, arthur, whats up?" you said sweetly, before a cough came down the phone.

"this might sound a little silly, but would you mind coming round?"

"uh huh, sure, i don't mind at all," you confirmed straight away, "are you okay? you sound a little raspy," you asked.

"think 'm ill.. know it sounds silly but was just laying in bed and i haven't felt great all day, and then i was just missing you and wanted to see you," he rambles out, and you have to admit it did melt your heart a little.

and thats how you had ended up at his door at 11:23, not all that late but a little strange nonetheless, and you pushed the key into the door, the spare you had been given to the flat, slipping your shoes off and heading to arthur's room, trying to be quiet in case anyone was asleep.

you gently pushed open arthur's door to be greeted by him in his boxers, hands tucked under his pillow and laying on his stomach in a freefall position.

"hi, arthur," you said softly as you made your way into his room, putting down your bag which had very little in it, you rarely brought pajamas round to arthurs, knowing you would end up in one of his jumpers, so the bag always felt hollow filled with only your clothes for the next day.

his head lifted from the pillow and a dopey grin plastered itself on his slightly red face.

"how are you feeling?" you asked gently, and he turned himself onto his side so he could see you properly.

"better now you're here, lovie," he babbled back, and you smiled at him.

"you need any water or anything?" you questioned, before looking at his bedside table, which he had clearly prepared for his illness contingencies, tissues, water bottles, snacks and paracetamol.

"'m good, just couldn't sleep very well and i didn't know if it was cause i was ill and i always sleep better with you so i figured," he trailed off, looking a slight bit sheepish as you giggled, "sorry for asking you to come here so late," he finished, but you shrugged.

"no, don't worry about it, you know i'd always come if it'd make you feel better," you reassured, and he just gently put his head back on the pillow.

"i'll get dressed and then come lay down, okay?" you said gently, and arthur murmured out, "that shirt that you like to sleep in, washed it the other day so it'll be in my cupboard rather then my drawer," he explained, and you nodded slightly, opening the cupboard door and grabbing it, quickly pulling your shirt from over your head and replacing it with his, and discarding your trousers, staying in just your underwear, since arthur's room was often hot.

you slid underneath the covers, adjusting them so they lay comfortably on arthur before you felt his forearm resting lazily against your waist, your head tucked next to his collarbone and his face practically buried in your hair.

"sorry if i'm being a little clingy, think i'm just bad at being poorly alone," he joked a little, but you just laughed back gently.

"i don't mind at all, it's actually quite nice," you said, before explaining, "not that you're ill, just that, y'know, you're clingy," i laughed a little more as you tried to explain myself, "although, i don't hate the voice," you teased.

"my voice?" he mumbled out.

"uh huh, kinda raspy," you joked a little more.

"so you find my pain hot?" he said, half teasing back.

"well, i didn't say that," you laughed.

"i mean, i can try get ill more often if it puts you in that kind of mood," he grinned into the top of your head, and you rolled your eyes.

"oh, shut up and go to sleep,"

[crsssie]

Hey there how about a Damian Wayne x reader fic!!

Mind going through a rabbit hole and kinda wanna have a moment of Damian having girlfriend who can jump through multiverse, maybe she met him accidentally while visiting and bam both fell in love and we see reader staying and only leaving for certain missions

Orrrr…

Damian meeting Wonder Woman Child and then catching feelings! Whole cliche ‘I hate you but secretly I love you’ depends on you!!

freefall - damian wayne x reader

"Oh, fUCK." You slam into the ground underneath you as you step out the portal, frowning when you realize you didn't fall on the cement. Something broke your fall.

"Robin!" Nightwing swings down as you jump off the person who broke your fall.

"Where the hell did you come from?"

"Ohhhh... fuck." You purse your lips. "Is this earth?"

"One of them."

"Mm." You grimace. "Sorry for slamming onto you. I'm, uh, a dimension traveller."

Damian gets a good look at your face, brows pulling into a frown as his cheeks grow dark. You look good. You look too good. One would say...

"Wow..." You catch yourself in the glass of the building. "I look out of this world."

Dick laughs at your joke as you give him a grin.

"You know if I can stay anywhere for the time being? 'kay, even if you don't offer me a place to stay, I'm still going to break into your place since..."

"Do we exist in your universe too?"

You blink slowly at Robin. "Yeah."

"Come on." Nightwing offers a hand to you. "Oracle, we're bringing in a stray from an alternate dimension home."

"I'll let B know."

"You guys are surprisingly calm about this." You blink.

"B's got a thing for picking up strays."

"Fair enough." You smile. "So... Robin?"

"Mm?" He raises a brow at you.

"You single?"

[shy-urban-hobbit]

Aiden is not ok. (Also known as I shook a Cat Witcher and trauma fell out).

Aiden trembled from a mixture of cold and fear as the wind buffeted the top of the high tree, fingers digging into the bark as he hugged the thick trunk as best as he could, the movement impeded by large armour and shirt sleeves which fell back around his elbows, he knew that if he lowered his hands the fabric would fall to cover them completely in the same way the cuffs of too big trousers pooled around his bare feet, his medallion hung heavy around his neck and dangled down to his stomach.

He stared out at the tightrope that seemed to go on forever - he couldn't even see the other end! He risked a glance down and immediately wished he hadn't. Dyn Marv was just a series of specks underneath him, any noise coming from the other inhabitants disappearing before it reached him. Had it always been this far, this high? No...this wasn't right.

"Well?!"

He turned his head to see Treyse - as unimpressed and imposing as ever and riddled with arrows piercing him from every possible angle- glaring down at him, "Stop stalling, boy. You're the last and everyone's sick of fucking waiting on you. Don't disappoint me."

Aiden shook his head mutely, not wanting to lower his gaze from that of the Grandmaster. What were the chances someone down below would hear him if he screamed? That Guxart would hear him? The Cats second in command could be reasoned with at least and Aiden knew the man liked him to some degree. He'd convince Treyse to let him come back down!

As if reading his thoughts Treyse rolled his eyes, an air of impatience growing, "Guxart ain't coming brat. He's got better things to do than keep pulling your arse out of the fire. Now, go!"

"Please, I can't!" Aiden pleaded in a child's tremor. It was too high and too far and he was in clothes for someone taller and broader than him....he'd never make it.

"It'll go worse for you if you don't." Treyse growled, eyes flashing dangerously and Aiden knew from experience he wasn't joking. He'd personally felt the others switch too many times. Fighting back tears, Aiden turned to look back out at the treetops and took his first step onto the coarse rope.

Aiden could hear voices coming from below him now and he strained to try and make out what they were saying - were they cheering him on or hoping he'd come tumbling down? He couldn't tell, it all sounded so jumbled and muffled. He heard a series of shouts and shrieks when he rocked dangerously thanks to a particularly strong gust of wind before righting himself and continuing to shuffle forwards, not daring to fully lift his feet incase they got caught up in too much fabric and made him fall.

He could see the other end! Not far now. Not far...

Aiden froze and fought back a scream as another figure came into view. Jad smirked at him from where he was leaning against the trunk of the tree Aiden was heading towards, a mean looking axe swinging idly in his hand, a thick line of red running from ear to ear. As soon as he made eye contact that smirk grew into a toothy, self satisfied grin - the last expression Aiden had seen before the pain of an arrow followed by darkness - as he hefted the axe properly. And promptly bought it down on the rope, cutting though it in one swing as if it was a length of sewing thread and not hemp as thick as Aiden's child-skinny arm.

This time, Aiden did scream as he felt himself start to freefall....

Aiden sat bolt upright, breathing heavily as he rapidly took in his surroundings. He was indeed lying on the forest floor, but in a bedroll next to a small fire, the hands he held up in front of him were those of an adult, scarred and callused. He ran them over his face and fell backwards, focusing on his breathing and the sweat drying around his temples.

"Aiden?" Lambert asked sleepily from next to him, concerned overtaking sleepiness as he started to come fully awake, "What happened?"

"It's nothing, just a dream. I'm sorry I woke you." Lambert continued to stare at him unblinking. Aiden leaned over and pressed a kiss to his cheek, "Go back to sleep love, I'm fine."

Lambert didn't push him on the obvious lie as he pressed a kiss of his own to the scar which ran over Aiden's now missing eye before gently pulling the Cat into his arms. Aiden went willingly, he knew he wouldn't get any more sleep tonight but he'd rather spend it with his face buried in the soft fabric of his lover's shirt than staring up at the canopy of trees caging them in.

[dollfaceksj]

we need to know what happens when they share that tent NEOW!!!

alright alright!

warnings: nuthin much just a bit of a vibe switch…. y’all will get it when u read it + a bit of jungkook lore

taste of a poison paradise | jjk (m) #11

masterlist

<- previous ; next ->

WHAT SHOULD YOU DO?

TELL YOONGI YOU’RE NOT LOOKING FOR ANYTHING SERIOUS 55,3%

TELL YOONGI YOU REALLY LIKE HIM 44,7%

291 votes

you chose:

TELL YOONGI YOU’RE NOT LOOKING FOR ANYTHING SERIOUS

↓

you take a breath to gather your courage

“did you know i,” you start, “i had a big crush on you like two years ago?”

he raises his brows as he processes the new info, a small smile on his lips. “i did not.”

he’s so cute guys ohmydhskdjdjdn

you continue, “well, seeing you again made me…” you sigh as you rub your forehead and avoid his gaze, staring down at the ground. “i got excited and let myself get carried away, you know?”

he nods and just lets you speak

you sigh softly and force yourself to look back up at him

“but since then.. since 2 years go i’ve.. i’ve met people,” you say, “i’ve gotten into some situations and i’m realizing now that i’m still thinking about them too.”

yoongi just stares at you as you talk

and it feels like your throat is tightening

just wrap it up you’re dragging it out!!!

“what i wanna say is that, i’m not looking for anything serious right now. not when i know my mind is still clouded by others, i don’t want you to feel played or anything cause i do enjoy spending time with you.”

wow

that took

a WHOLE bunch of courage to say

you stare at him, waiting for a reaction

then, he smiles. “take a breath.”

oh

you hadn’t realized you were holding your breath

anticipating his reaction

you take a deep breath, fingers fidgeting

he nods his head. “that’s okay.”

just as you part your lips to say something, he continues, “i totally understand what you mean when you say your mind is still clouded by someone else cause i still experience it too. i’m glad you had the courage to tell me cause i’m not sure i could’ve admitted that.”

oh

he’s so

wow

need him. RN.

you blink at him. “so, we’re on the same page, then?”

he nods but then tilts his head to the side. “of course. thanks for being honest and making me realize some stuff too.”

a small smile creeps on your lips. you’re glad it worked out

but his next few words knock the air right out of your body

“will you still let me kiss you?”

aa

aaaaaa

AAAAAAAAAA

you bite your lip in an attempt to hide your smile and nod your head, taking a step closer to close the distance between you two

he cups your cheek and brings your face closer to his, gently pressing his lips to yours

your own hands move up to his biceps, softly squeezing them as you kiss him

he’s so fine

his arms fit right into your hands

like you were made to hold him isn’t that crazy

he slightly tilts his head to the side, allowing himself to deepen the kiss

his lips are so soft, you’re convinced you’re being caressed by clouds

you sigh contentedly into the kiss, goosebumps popping out of the upper layer of your skin

oh how you wish you could have him in sinful ways

his hands respectfully drop down to your waist as he pulls you even closer, pressing your chest flat into his

you smile into the kiss and this makes him poke through your lips with his tongue

you part your lips, allowing him to lick into your mouth

you continue to make out with him in front of dirty tables and dishes that are begging for attention

but standing here with him makes the world around you fade away

and you allow yourself to melt into his kiss, his touch, his embra–

“i don’t mean to ruin your kdrama moment but you’re blocking the way. i can’t reach the dirty plates.”

your heart freefalls to your feet

no, not freefalls

PLUMMETS

into the pit of the fucking earth

your lips part from yoongi’s and you turn to look to the side

to see

jungkook

staring you down

eyes slowly dragging down your body

pinch in his brows

tongue rolling against the inside of his cheek

eyes hooded

FUCK

he just went to go pee, of course it wouldn’t take long for him to return

what if he thinks you’re kissing yoongi just in spite of him?!??

“oh, my bad,” yoongi doesn’t seem to notice the tension between you two as he just pulls you to the side to let jungkook get to the plates

the three of you continue to clean up in silence

it’s

so

fucking

awkward

then, hoseok calls out yoongi’s name

“i’m gonna shut the tent and you’re not getting in if you don’t come right now!” hoseok yells from wherever he is

yoongi chuckles and then reaches out to rub your shoulder. “i gotta go. you can handle the rest, right? i mean, you’ve got jungkook too.”

damn

if only he knew

you force a smile and nod.

he’s so sweet :(

“okay. goodnight.” he gently taps your nose and walks off

oh :(

he’s so cute

you do really like him :(

you watch his figure disappear in silence

you turn to the tables and continue cleaning up

jungkook doesn’t say anything at all

you’ve finally cleaned everything up. “shall we go sleep?” you ask as you turn to face him

he nods as he uses his sweatpants to dry his hands

you quietly follow him to his tent, crouching down to follow him inside

well

“i can’t see anything,” you mumble

he doesn’t say anything as he turns the flashlight on on his phone and turns it face down so it lights up the tent

why is he so quiet :/

“we should reserve our battery as much as we can.” you remind him that you’re still in the middle of nowhere

he shakes his head, wordlessly dismissing you

can he stop being so

quiet?

you’re not used to it from him

you quietly watch as he zips the entrance to the tent back up

you just remembered you have to change your clothes with him.. in one tent

now you’re here, on your knees

he’s on his knees too

and he’s reaching for his own luggage

you slowly reach for your suitcase and open it up, picking out the first pajamas you see

when you look over your shoulder to ask him not to look

he’s

shirtless

with his back to you

changing

his clothes

and then

you notice

an entire fucking sleeve of tattoos

oh shit oh shit

he’s hot as fuck😭

you frown. “since when do you have tattoos?”

his head shoots up and he turns to look at you. “ogling me, you perv?”

this damn junior…

well at least he’s talking again

you roll your eyes as you turn back to your own suitcase and tug your shirt off

the silence makes him speak

“i’ve been getting them since a year ago but i don’t like that the sleeve is unfinished so i don’t like showing it yet.”

ah

is that why he wears rash guards when you go swimming?

“oh, ok.” you slide your pajama shirt on and start buttoning it up. you’re trying so hard not look at him cause he’s so fucking hot and you’re stuck with him in one tent

just

act like he’s not here.

ACT LIKE HE’S NOT HERE

okay. that’s good.

“wanna see?”

fuck

FUCK

you do

u really do

you glance at him as you button up your shirt

your eyes trail his bare chest and torso as he’s now fully turned to you

he’s so toned

he looks…… really good

you glance up into his eyes and he is staring straight into your eyes

he knows you just eyed his body

but he doesn’t comment on it

you finally glance down at his arm

he takes his phone into his hand and directs the flashlight at his arm

you see a whole bunch of tattoos, eyes tracing each line

you reach out and trace the lines with your finger

you glance up at him and he’s not looking at his arm

he’s staring straight at you

look away

look away

LOOK AWAY

before you do something

so fucking stupid

…

NOW

you shift your eyes back to his arm. “what does this one mean?” you rub one flower that he has tatted on the inside of his arm

“that’s my mother’s birthflower.”

you glance up at him and this time he’s staring at the tattoo as well instead of at you

“that’s sweet,” you say, quietly

he nods. “yeah. she always said that if i do ever get tattoos, i’d better start with something in honor of her,” he says with a soft smile as he gently rubs his inked skin

you smile. that’s really cute. who knew he was such a softie? “what was her reaction to seeing the tattoo?”

silence

wow

suddenly

the atmosphere changes

maybe you shouldn’t have asked that

he scrunches his nose up for a split second and then tugs his arm from under your finger away

he reaches for his sweater and slides it on, same with his pants. “she never got to see it.”

and with that, he crawls into his oversized sleeping bag and turns his back to you

oh

thats

:/

what happened with his mom?

you stare at his back for a moment longer

you slowly and quietly crawl into your own sleeping bag and try to sleep without another word

“you’re trembling.” his voice is groggy and quiet

how long have you been trying to fall asleep?

you glance at your phone, it’s 2am

“yeah, well, it’s cold,” you mumble, trying to stop yourself from shivering

he says, “come here,” with a soft sigh

huh

come

come WHERE?

“i’m good.”

“stop being stubborn and come here.”

wow

breathless

that’s the only way to describe what you’re feeling right now

you slowly scoot closer to him. you grumble, “don’t talk to me like that, i’m still your senior.”

“yeah, yeah,” he says as he dismisses your comment and slowly starts unzipping your sleeping bag and his

your breath hitches in your throat

is he telling you to crawl into his sleeping bag?

wait

WAITTTT

“don’t touch–”

“i’m not gonna touch you. there’s enough space.”

you glance at him for a moment longer but you can’t see much

he quietly sighs at your accusing gaze. “not everything i do is underhanded, y/n. sometimes i just want to help you, alright? you’re making it really hard to want to help you.”

well

you can’t help it !! you just don’t trust him

but you’re fucking freezing and you don’t know what else to do

you sigh and slowly crawl out of your own sleeping bag into his

you turn on your side, turning your back to him

it’s quiet

it doesn’t seem like he had any ulterior motives cause you can hear the soft puffs leaving his mouth and it actually sounds like he’s sleeping again

he’s right, it’s quite spacious

your bodies haven’t touched

but his body heat is radiating off of him and you don’t feel so cold anymore

alright

you close your eyes and try to fall asleep

and you’re slowly

dozing

off

…

“i’m glad you hit it off with yoongi. he’s a good guy.”

oh shit

your eyes shoot open and you turn your face over your shoulder to look at him

what

don’t do this.

“you deserve someone that’s going to treat you well. i know we’re always teasing each other but i really do want what’s best for you.”

he continues to talk with his eyes closed

is he talking to you in his sleep?

do you believe him? or is this another one of his tricks?

will he remember even inviting you into his sleeping bag tomorrow morning?

your lack of response makes him open up his eyes, staring directly into yours

you can’t see much but you can definitely see that

so he was awake

you turn your face back to lie back with your back to him and close your eyes. you can’t look into his eyes for much longer. “i told him i’m not looking for anything serious.”

there’s a beat of silence

“why?”

you’re quiet this time

very quiet

his breath hits the back of your neck in the meantime

makes you see every celestial body in the universe on the back of your eyelids

nerve endings set alight

goosebumps all over your body

you finally reply, “i’m sure you know why.”

…..

he doesn’t respond to that

and before you know it

you’ve finally dozed off

hm

light

light hits your eyes

scrunching of shoes against branches and grass reach your ears

you stir

trying to recognize your surroundings

your eyes are met with someone’s back

oh right

you’re in the tent with jungkook

but why

the fuck

is your arm

around jungkook’s waist

WHY ARE YOU SPOONING HIM

STOP

take your arm back without waking him up NOW

you slowly start pulling your arm back, but his own arm is caging yours in

you bite your lip as you continue to try to pull your arm back undetected

but

that mission FAILS

when jungkook suddenly jerks and turns around in one swift motion, wrapping his own arm around you as you lie flat on your back

you almost yelp but looking down at him, you realize he’s still asleep

you freeze

his face is directly in the crook of your neck, breath hitting your skin and awakening goosebumps all over your body

his arm is lazily slung around your waist and his legs are intertwined with yours

you hold your breath as you try to think of a way to get out of this without jungkook ever being aware of it

STEADYYYYY

you slowly move to untangle his legs from yours and it’s extra hard cause you can’t actually see your legs

okay MISSION SUCCESSFUL

WOW he didn’t wake up once

he must be a heavy sleeper

Now moving onto his arm around your waist, let’s get that–

“BREAKFAST IS ALMOST DONE! EVERYONE WAKE UP!”

FUCK

FOR FUCKS SAKE TAE!!!!

he’s yelling it around all tents

jungkook

suddenly

jerks

and you almost whimper at how his lips graze your neck

“hm?” you hear a soft hum coming from him

fuck FUCK HE’S WAKING UP

you shut your eyes tightly as he slowly starts to recognize his surroundings

“oh… Oh?” jungkook suddenly scoots back, creating a bigger gap between your bodies

he looks just as surprised as you

“i’m so sorry,” he quickly says as he turns onto his back and rubs his face

you glance at him, noticing how his ears have turned a bright shade of crimson

“it’s okay,” you mumble as you sit up straight, rubbing your own face

you both sit there for awhile just waking up slowly

“come on, breakfast is ready,” you mumble as you start unzipping his sleeping bag further

“wait–” his hand tightly grips your wrist as he tries to stop you in your movements, his entire upper body slouched over your lap

you frown and glance down at him

he slowly lies back down, his hair sprawled out behind his head on his makeshift pillow of rolled up pants.

did he? give you? his pillow? while you? were sleeping?

you say, “what?”

“i uh,” he scratches his head with his other hand

your frown deepens as you encourage him to finish talking

you’re so confused

so damn confused

he suddenly??? turns his back to you???

“never mind. go ahead.”

huh

????

you frown. “what are you doing? breakfast is ready.”

“i’ll come later, okay?”

your frown deepens. “but there might not be anything left for you if you wait.”

he mumbles, “that’s okay for me. you should go, though.”

“jungko–”

“i’m hard as fuck right now, alright? just go. Damn.”

oh

OH

it’s morning

he’s uhhh

experiencing

morning wood?

okay

😂😂😂😂😂😂😂😂😂

without another word.

you.

get.

the.

hell.

out.

and after you’ve washed up

you see that the table only has two vacant seats left, one next to yoongi that he probably saved for you

and the two empty seats are right across from each other

meaning you’re gonna have to stare straight at jungkook when he joins y’all for breakfast

after what just happened

while sitting right next to yoongi

😂😂😂😂😂😂 life is so funny

to be continued

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[goldenraeofsun]

The Dad Who Stepped Up

For @elegitre!

Bruce puts the Batmobile in park. With a heavy sigh, he pulls down the cowl and glances over at Dick, sleeping soundly in the passenger seat. Twin dark purple bruises bloom across his knees – Bruce almost hadn’t caught him in time, but he grabbed Dick out of freefall at the last second, wrenching his right arm out of its socket in the process. His ribs ached as his torso absorbed most of Dick’s weight, but, worst of all, the landing slammed Dick’s knees against the unforgiving asphalt.

Bruce reaches over, his gauntlets hovering over Dick’s bare knees. He really should work on convincing his ward to add pants to his uniform. Dick has proved himself remarkably stubborn, but Bruce is an adult. He’s Batman. Nobody can out-stubborn him – not Deputy Chief of Police, James Gordon, not his butler, Alfred Pennyworth, and certainly not an eight-year-old who thinks bad puns are the height of sophistication.

Dick will be wearing pants on the next patrol. End of discussion.

With that resolve, Bruce slips out of the Batmobile. He soundlessly opens the passenger-side door and carefully unbuckles Dick. With his good arm, he lifts Dick against his left side and ignores the way his ribs throb. Dick’s head lolls, his sleepy breathing heating the hollow of Bruce’s throat.

“Master Bruce?” Alfred says as they pass the Batcomputer.

“Bedtime,” Bruce says in an undertone not to wake Dick.

“I should say so,” Alfred says. “Shall I take care of everything down here?”

“Yes, please,” Bruce says gratefully as he heads to the stairs.

Dick only starts to stir as they make their way down the family wing. “Whazzat?”

“We’re back at the Manor,” Bruce says. “Patrol is over. You’re safe.”

“Oh, good,” Dick murmurs as he settles back against Bruce’s side. “’M tired.”

Bruce smiles. “I never would have guessed.”

“Hmph.”

Bruce nudges Dick’s door open with his foot and gently sets Dick down on his bed. As Dick flops back, apparently dead to the world, Bruce slips off his green boots and sets them down quietly on the floor. He unzips the scaled bottoms, leaving Dick in his underwear, and slowly unpeels the mask from his face. 

“Dick?”

Dick unleashes an almighty snore.

Bruce chuckles. “I know you’re awake, chum.”

Dick cracks an eye open. “What now, Bruce?”

“You need to roll over,” he says, twirling his finger to illustrate. “I don’t want you strangling yourself with your cape in your sleep.”

“I wouldn’t do that,” Dick grumbles as he nevertheless turns over so Bruce can unlatch the cape.

“You never know,” Bruce says as he slings the cape over his arm. “Sit up.”

“Don’t wanna,” Dick groans, still face-down, his voice muffled.

“Tough,” Bruce counters. “Sit up, or I will make you.”

Dick doesn’t move an inch.

“Dick.”

Dick buries his face further into his pillow.

“I warned you,” Bruce says as he wraps both hands around Dick’s torso and bodily heaves him up.

Dick, because he is a menace when he is this tired, just slumps back over like a puppet that just got its strings cut.

“Unbelievable,” Bruce mutters as he lets Robin’s cape flutter to the floor and grabs at Dick again.

“Go ’way. ’M tired.”

Bruce levels him a very unimpressed look that Dick doesn’t see because his eyes are firmly shut. “Fine, if you want to sleep like this, Alfred will just have to change the sheets again,” he pauses, “even though he just changed them two days ago. I’m sure he’ll be so pleased with the extra work –”

“Ugh!” Dick pushes himself into what might charitably be called a sitting-position. He’s listing almost 90 degrees to his left side and so slouched over, Bruce can’t see what he’s doing with his hands as they fumble with his uniform top.

“Here,” Bruce says as he falls into an easy crouch and reaches over to help, “let me.” He makes quick work of the hidden fastens and slides the whole thing off Dick’s now limp arms. “There,” he says as Dick falls back against the bed, “that wasn’t so hard was it?”

Dick hums in agreement, all of his fight now gone.

Bruce just smiles as he reaches for the duvet at the end of the bed and tucks Dick in. “Sleep well, Robin.” He hesitates before carding a hand through Dick’s hair.

“’Night, Dad.”

* * *

It takes Bruce an embarrassingly long time to leave Dick’s room, long after Dick’s breaths evened out with deep sleep. Only his arm, still dislocated, jolts him out of his trance with a particularly fierce throb of pain.

In the morning, Dick only sleeps in until ten.

“Good morning,” Bruce says as Dick appears in the doorway of the kitchen, looking far more awake than he usually does at this hour.

“Bruce,” Dick says stiffly as he takes his usual seat.

“Master Dick,” Alfred says, appearing out of nowhere to fill his glass with orange juice. 

“Hi, Alfie,” Dick says, subdued.

“We weren’t expecting you for some hours more,” Alfred tuts. “Did you get enough sleep?”

“Yeah.” Dick sneaks a glance at Bruce before he continues, “I slept fine.”

“I’m glad to hear it,” Alfred says, patting Dick’s arm as he leaves to put bread in the toaster.

“How are you feeling?” Bruce asks.

“Fine.”

Bruce turns to Dick, his concern growing at Dick’s uncharacteristically taciturn responses. “How are your knees?”

“Fine.”

Alarmed, Bruce leans in. “What’s wrong, Dick? Tell me.”

Dick inhales a sharp breath, and Bruce nearly has a heart attack. Eventually, Dick says, “I called you ‘Dad’ last night.”

Bruce blinks. “You did,” he says slowly.

“I didn’t mean to,” Dick rushes to say. 

Bruce swallows, his throat tightening with disappointment. “I understand –”

“I know – I know I’m not your kid,” Dick stumbles over his words as his cheeks turn an impressive shade of red, dimples nowhere to be seen. “I’m not your son. I’m just your ward, and there’s a difference. I know that. I’m just – I’m sorry. I was so tired last night, and I wasn’t thinking – I didn’t mean to call you that. I know you’re not my dad,” he finishes, his voice barely above a whisper.

Bruce listens as Dick lets it all out, mentally scrambling to make sense of his very confusing child. 

Into the loaded silence, the toast pops, and they all jump. 

Eventually, Bruce starts, “I admit, you caught me off guard last night.”

Over Dick’s shoulder, Alfred shoots him a don’t muck this up glare as he deposits toast, jam, and a butter knife in front of Dick.

Dick ducks his head, shoulders hunching over his plate. 

“But I can’t say your actions last night deserve any sort of apology,” Bruce says, reaching out to tap Dick on the hand. “I didn’t presume to think you thought of me as your dad, but there’s no way on Earth I wouldn’t ever welcome it, chum.”

Dick’s head snaps up. 

“You had a father, a wonderful one by all accounts,” Bruce says, his tone solemn. “I don’t want to take his place. It would be an insult to his memory.”

Dick squints at him, a slow smile breaking over his face. “How old are you, B?” he asks, his tone all faux-innocence as his grin widens. “You know loads of kids have two dads now, right?”

Bruce puts his head in his hands.

[sarcasticgaypotato]

The Best Solution

On cold, clear nights that bathed the world in pale blue light, Chell turned her chin up and looked at the sky.

She was not afflicted with the condition known as ‘sentimentality,’ no matter how many scorch-marked, heart-adorned metal cubes got thrown her way and left behind in fields of wheat a hundred miles away. But the ravaged surface world offered her little (save for her own freedom) and the nights were as quiet and lonely as the days, just without an excuse to fill her time by finding something to busy herself with under the light of the sun.

So, she looked upward and let her mind wander.

Every streak of a shooting star she hoped was a certain circular heap of scrap metal finally burning up in the atmosphere.

“Let go! I’m still connected. I can pull myself in.”

Of course he could. If she had given him half a chance, he would’ve pulled himself back in just fine—and let her fly off into space without a second thought if it would save his own steel.

The cold vacuum of space. When she closed her eyes, Chell could still feel it in the wind that tickled the stray hairs on the back of her neck, in the cold that stole the breath from her lungs as she gasped it. That rush of weightlessness, her eyes watering and freezing her eyelashes together, and that pit in her stomach that said, after everything she had survived, this might be it.

She stared up at the moon; a pale white beauty, once near enough for Chell to reach out and touch, now as distant as ever. A sliver in the night sky, it grinned down at her with a smile that knew the taste of her fear. An untouchable queen who would have her head, if she had her way. Chell would have called it as familiar as it was deadly, if not for one thing that nagged at her mind as she stared, lost among stars and memories alike.

This was always the point in her late-night stargazing that Chell started scratching absentmindedly at her wrist, where the phantom burn of cold metal claws still seared into her skin.

Chell never fell for any of GLaDOS’s tricks; she knew her too well. That hate was familiar, expected. Working together in Old Aperture was a surprise only for a moment; it was logical if they wanted to survive. The enemy of my enemy is my friend, or “Everybody likes revenge,” as a certain someone had put it. 

She trusted GLaDOS’s intelligence enough to know that she would play nice for as long as they had a shared goal, and for as long as Chell held all the power. Don’t bite the hand that holds your consciousness trapped in a potato battery, or something like that.

Chell had even been fairly confident that after they beat Wheatley (she never had any doubt that they would), as long as she kept her guard up and an eye on her, GLaDOS wouldn’t risk betraying her. The world’s most intelligent lifeform had finally learned that Chell wasn’t worth crossing—it only took two losing battles for the lesson to sink in.

GLaDOS would keep her end of the bargain as long as it was convenient to do so. That was why Chell couldn’t make sense of what happened. No matter how many times she replayed those seconds in her head, watching her own memories in slow motion as GLaDOS knocked Wheatley free of the chassis and sent him spinning into space, robbing Chell of her only anchor to Earth. 

Freefall. 

Could you call it falling without gravity? Spinning, flailing, her body wrenched outward, seconds away from dying in space, embarrassingly outlived by the very same moron who was responsible for this whole mess. In the second that she had to process her impending death, Chell took a small hint of satisfaction in knowing that at least she took him down with her. Sure, the lack of air wouldn’t kill him as quickly as it would her, but he was far from a self-proclaimed king of Aperture out here. He was nothing but a hunk of junk destined to get knocked around by asteroids like a pinball. At least GLaDOS had a death worth bragging about under her non-existent belt; Chell had blown her to bits in what she would humbly call ‘a spectacular fashion.’

GLaDOS. Was her last thought before unconsciousness took her going to be about GLaDOS? How apt. GLaDOS would’ve loved to hear that, not that Chell would’ve ever told her, even if she had the chance.

She wouldn’t have the chance. She wasn’t supposed to.

When Chell felt that familiar metal claw clamp around her wrist, the first thought her fading consciousness could conjure was that GLaDOS wanted to be personally responsible for flinging her out into space, maybe so she could get a good spin on the throw. The realization that GLaDOS was pulling her in, back towards Earth, to safety, was one that proved entirely too much for her oxygen-deprived brain to process. So, she passed out.

GLaDOS could have done nothing at all, and Chell would have died. If she wanted the satisfaction of doing it herself, she could have crushed her under a metal plate or thrown her in the incinerator while she was unconscious. Instead, GLaDOS saved her life, watched over her recovery until she awoke, and then … let her go with only a bit of theatrics and nothing else. 

She pinned the blame on Caroline and made a big show of deleting her, neither of which Chell believed for a second. That golden eye took her in, unflinching, with the same inscrutable expression before and after the automated voice cheerfully announced Caroline’s removal. A long dead secretary Chell had never crossed paths with had nothing to do with this; there was no difference between the GLaDOS that pulled her from space and the GLaDOS who watched the elevator ascend to the surface now.  

This was all her, and she was supposed to give them both a satisfying conclusion to them parting ways with weapons lowered, standing (even if one of them didn’t have legs) on equal ground. GLaDOS was supposed to make this easy by sending her off with an insult or a half-hearted threat of one last murder attempt for old times’ sake.

“Killing you is hard.”

Liar. 

Killing me would have been easy if you wanted to.

Why didn’t you want to?

[tgmsunmontue]

I'd know you anywhere - 1/5

Set when Hangman first meets Rooster. Bradley and Bradford Bradshaw are twins. Most people know this. Some people need to be brought up to speed. Quickly.

Explicit out the gate. Also an everyone is alive AU because I need the softness when I’ve got two other fics on the go with DADT and canon deaths.

…            …            …

                Bradley arches his back, presses his body into the hands making their way down his body. He doesn’t usually fall into bed with guys when he’s only just met them, he’s usually a wine and dine, take things slow, get to know them first sort of guy. But Seresin definitely hadn’t seemed to want that pace, and Bradley hadn’t found any reason to not just let it happen. He can be spontaneous when it suits him.

                They’d played pool, flirted with each other for over three hours, stroking the pool cue suggestively, pressing and brushing their bodies against each other accidentally before Seresin had invited him back to his place; well after Phoenix had muttered about him getting a room and not sticking around for a floor show.

                “What’s your name Bradshaw?” Seresin asks, lips moving against his neck and his fingers pull at Bradley’s shirt, tugging it out from where it was neatly tucked into his pants.

                “Brad… oh fuck… Bradley. God that feels good,” Bradley says, but Seresin is pulling back, looking at him with a quirked eyebrow.

                “Bradley Bradshaw?”

                Bradley groans and hides his face in the crook of his arm, lets his hips roll against Jake’s, hoping to distract him.

                “Yeah. You don’t know the half of it,” Bradley mutters, because he’s not bringing up his idiotic twin brother while he’s having sex. “Come on. Don’t stop.”

                “Think I’ll just call you baby, that okay?”

                “Yeah. Yeah anything…”

                “And I’m not going to stop. That okay?”

                “Yeah,” Bradley says with a laugh.

                Then they’re both shoving their remaining clothes off, and they’re both sweaty, the heat not helping. Seresin’s got lube on his hand, encircling both their cocks as they rub and thrust against each other; lying on their sides and facing each other so they can still kiss. It’s hot and messy, hotter and messier than usual with the summer heat, but it feels so goddamn good and he groans into it.

                “Jake… my name’s Jake by the way. Thanks for asking.”

                Bradley laughs breathlessly, murmurs the name back against his naked skin and then kisses him, saying the name over and over.

                “Good, well, I do need to know what name to say when I come…”

                “Mmm,” Jake hums, his hand and hips moving in tandem. “Well, I’m not calling out Bradley Bradshaw. Sounds ridiculous.”

                “Just Bradley’s fine…”

                “So is baby. Fuck you’re hot.”

                “You’re not hard on the eyes either,” Bradley says, and he lets his eyes roam over all the naked skin he can see, tan lines on his arms and neck, eyes dark with arousal, lips swollen from kissing, little patch of stubble Jake’s missed when shaving and he licks over it. He wraps his hand over Jake’s, glad he’s left-handed and that this can work. Applies a little more pressure and speed, close to coming after the hours of continuous foreplay and now hot and fast freefall toward coming.

                There’s nothing more than the hard-fast-urgent movement of their hands as they both race toward coming, a race that they will both win and he groans into Jake’s mouth, kisses him with teeth, bites and sucks his bottom lip and grunts as he comes, then feels Jake come as well, adding to the slick slide between their bodies which will be gross when he thinks about it in a few moments once the high of his orgasm eases a little. Right now though it feels good, great even, and he hums appreciatively under his breath; feels like he’s done a good job when Jake lets out a little huff of laughter when he grabs one of his ass cheeks with a sticky hand and grinds them together more gently just to enjoy the feeling of them coming down together. They continue to kiss, using a wadded up shirt to wipe themselves up a little and he wonders if Seresin, Jake, is angling for another round. He’s definitely not averse to it.

                “Fuck I needed that. Thank you…”

                It’s Bradley’s turn to huff a laugh.

                “Yeah, it was a real hardship.”

                “Mmm. Something was hard…”

                He laughs again, shifts closer and kisses him some more, feels the slick slide of sweat covered skin and wishes he could stay the night. Except he can’t.

                “I’ve got to go. If I’m not back my brother is going to worry. Or get me in trouble somehow,” Bradley says, because Ford would totally tell their parents, and he can’t deal with either of them right now. And he’s fucked if they tell Mav or Ice.

                “You want a shower?” Jake asks, and he makes it very clear that it would be with company, kissing up the line of his jaw.

                “Quick one.”

                “No promises.”

                The shower is not short, the warm water running out but the cooler water feels good against his overheated skin as he watches Jake get on his knees and suck him off. He’s really glad there aren’t neighbors close by, his shout a little loud and Jake looks really fucking smug. Bradley immediately wants to return the favor only to find Jake’s apparently one for multi-tasking and jerked himself off while blowing him. That kind of competency is hot, but he’s still a little disappointed and Jake kisses him, tells him to stop pouting.

                He takes the proffered towel and dries himself quickly, Jake putting a little distance between them now he’s clearly gotten the second round he was angling for. He pulls on his underwear and pants, they’re crinkled all to hell and he grimaces, knows time with an iron is in his future.

                “Ugh,” Bradley looks at his shirt, damp with sweat and covered with come. He hadn’t been paying attention at all and he cannot put that on. He looks up to find Jake smirking at him, holding out a clean shirt.

                “Here…”

                “Thanks,” Bradley says, shrugging it on. Sure it’s not got his name on the chest, but he’s only going to his base accommodation. Wearing someone else’s shirt is still far better than not wearing a shirt at all. He’s not working, in fact it had been unusual for him to even be wearing his khakis yesterday. Jake has only just pulled on clean underwear, clearly preparing to just go to sleep, although Bradley wonders if he’ll change the sheets after he leaves.

                “Give me your phone…” Bradley says, holding his hand out expectantly, and Jake’s eyebrow goes up again and Bradley really shouldn’t find that as attractive as he does. He steps close and kisses him again, takes the phone out of Jake’s hand.

                “What do you want my phone for?”

                “I’m putting my number in. And then I’m sending myself a message so I’ve got your number… Hope that’s okay.”

                “Yeah. Of course. You want to do this again?”

                “I want to do more than this. Dinner. Dates. All the romancing I usually do before I have sex with someone.”

                “You want to bother with that when you’ve already had the sex?”

                “Of course I do… wanna treat you right.”

                “I wanna have more sex,” Jake says, and he’s grinning up at him and Bradley can’t resist kissing him again.

                “That can be arranged too.”

                “Glad to hear it.”

PART TWO