#making myself laugh way too hard at that one

[hueseok]

it was always you (from the vault)

originally titled: take my breath away.

a.k.a. the original draft for my “it was always you” fic wherein naval aviator!jungkook is your cocky soon-to-be-ex-husband who won’t sign your divorce papers because he’s still in love with you lol.

pairing: jungkook x reader

word count: 4.5k

content: fluff, semi-angst, exes to ??? | ft. naval aviator!jungkook + husband!jungkook

warning: what you’re about to read (if you do choose to read this) is an unfinished work which perhaps will forever be unfinished.

the only reason i’m posting it because i feel like it’d be a waste to let it rot in my drafts considering that i really liked how it went until the moment i stopped writing hehehehe. i’ve also thought about continuing this story but since i already have an existing naval aviator!jungkook in my masterlist, i felt like it’d be redundant to post this!

anyhow, since a lot of you showed so much love to “it was always you”, i thought it’d be nice to share this 🥹

You really hoped that flying for almost three hours and experiencing horrid turbulence during half of the trip was going to be worth it. But again, that was only the first part of the whole charade; the real challenge would begin perhaps much later, when you finally come face to face with the person that you were scheduled to meet.

As you walked inside the bar, the nerves that previously weren’t there started to crawl from your chest to your legs, making it harder to reach the counter where a vacant bar stool stood. You didn’t even know why you were suddenly nervous—although you could only guess that the sudden burst of anxiety was rooted from talking again to the most stubborn man ever to walk on earth—and you were already preparing yourself for the long conversation you were going to have with him and possibly the extended leave you’ll have to inform your boss for this trip because of his infamous stubbornness.

“____?” a familiar voice abruptly called out for you after you finished ordering a mug of beer from the barmaid, “no fucking way. It can’t be.”

You turned to your left and saw Jung Hoseok.

Spoiler: he wasn’t the person you were going to meet today, which made seeing him such a delight. You grinned immediately upon making eye contact, hopping out of your chair and exclaiming his name with the same enthusiasm he let out when he did realize it was you who he was looking at.

“Holy shit. What are you doing here?” He automatically engulfed you in a tight embrace when you initiated. You noticed that he was wearing an off duty attire, a plain black polo shirt and blue jeans, his hair kept neat and short. “Actually, scratch that—there’s only one person you should be here for.”

You bothered to smile. “Yeah. I’m guessing he didn’t tell anyone I’m visiting, huh?”

“Nope. He 100% kept it a secret because he knows that we’re going to steal you away if he spills.”

“We?” you mused. You didn’t even know that he was training with Hoseok, and now you’re discovering that Hoseok’s apparently not the only friend he has here. “How many of you that I know are training with him?”

Hoseok takes a short pause to think about it. “Hm… well, there’s me, then Yoongi and… Namjoon. That’s just about it.”

“Wow. It’s essentially the whole group again, huh?”

“Yup. I mean, we are the best of the best.” He smirked.

You playfully rolled your eyes.

“And we’ve missed you,” he added swiftly. “I’m a bit mad that your husband didn’t inform us that you’d be here—but again, I’m not surprised.”

“Sorry. I think I have myself to blame for that. I did tell him that I don’t intend to stay here for too long.”

“Why not?”

“I’m just here to make sure he signs the divorce papers.”

Hoseok nodded, thoughtful and a bit disappointed. “Is he giving you a hard time with them?”

“You can say that.” A dramatic sigh escaped you. “He insisted that if I really wanted to get his signature, I should just go here where he’s training.”

“Classic Jungkook.” He laughed, and you agreed with a snort.

He was right, this was all a Classic Jungkook move. 

Sometimes, you didn’t understand why you agreed to marry Jungkook so urgently when he asked for your hand, even after knowing that he did everything he could to ensure that he got what he wanted in the end.

Though that was just that thing, wasn’t it? He knew exactly what to do in order to get what he wanted—and at that time of his proposal, you knew it was you that he sought for.

Despite the fact that Jungkook had only been seeing you for less than a year, he was convinced that you were the love of his life. It was the reason why when he needed to be deployed for a mission, it seemed proposing was the most natural thing to do, going on about how he wanted to be reassured that when he came back for you, you were going to be there waiting for him, not only as a girlfriend, but as his wife.

And you said yes, without missing a beat, because you genuinely loved Jungkook and for you, the both of you were a match made in heaven.

By the two year mark of being a wedded couple though, just being in love with each other wasn’t enough. There were a lot of arguments, irreconcilable differences, a lot of moments wherein you wanted to abandon everything and just disappear—until you finally declared that enough was enough and you were going to file for divorce.

Of course, Jungkook didn’t want to sign them, but he did grant you a little bit of your freedom back. He did so by leaving your shared apartment on a random Thursday, only sending a text that said he was being called by the Navy for a mission he couldn’t disclose per usual, and that if you really wanted to divorce him, you’d just have to wait for him to go back.

He never returned though. Because after that mission, came a next one, and another one, until you heard that he was invited to a naval fighter weapons school in the northern part of the country, close to the seas and where he’ll be training for a few weeks among the best naval aviators in the nation. 

That’s when he decided to invite you over and say that if you wanted his signature, you’d have to be the one who’ll go to him. You initially contemplated for a long time before just going forth with his ridiculous demand. Nonetheless, you figured you were once again left with no choice because here you were now, doing exactly what he wanted to get what you exactly wanted as well.

God, who knew that contrary to how easy it was to enter this marriage, it was an absolute pain to get out of it?

“Do you know where he might be?” you asked Hoseok while taking a sip of your beer. “Or if he’s going here at least?”

“I have no clue,” Hoseok said. “Though I do know that he should have free time. We don’t have training for the rest of the day.”

“I’ll be seriously pissed if he stands me up.”

“He won’t.”

“It’s Jungkook.”

“Yeah, but you’re ____,” he said it like it was reason enough, “and Jungkook can’t resist seeing you. Especially if it’s been what? How many months have passed since you two saw each other?”

You held up six fingers, continuing to gulp down your drink in frustration. “Still, he loves to annoy the shit out of me.”

“It’s his love language.”

“Oh, I’ve been made very aware.”

Hoseok barked out a laugh. He was a huge fan of your dynamic with Jungkook; he was practically there throughout the whole journey of your relationship. As Jungkook’s weapon systems officer, the both of them were thick as thieves, which also made him the best man of the wedding—so deep inside, he wanted to believe that whatever it was that you and Jungkook were dealing with, it would be resolved soon enough.

“Well, it looks like you don’t have to wait for too long.” Hoseok toasted his glass to the direction of the entrance where the Jeon Jungkook entered, removing his aviator sunglasses and hooking it on the collar of his white shirt, worn inside a dark blue long-sleeved polo he was sporting as well.

You followed his line of vision and scowled at the sight of Jungkook. Not because you hated your husband, but because even when in the middle of finalizing a divorce, you couldn’t deny that he was too handsome for his own good.

“I think this is my cue to leave,” Hoseok added, getting off his seat. “It was nice seeing you again, ___. Let’s catch up later, yeah? I’ll conspire with Joon and Yoongi to steal you away.” He smiled mischievously and gave you a sweet chaste kiss on the cheek before walking over to Jungkook, greeting him, pointing to where you were, and then walking to another table where you guessed a bunch of other naval aviators were hanging out.

A sigh escaped you, just in time when Jungkook met your gaze.

He grinned—actually grinned—and you had to prevent your eyes from twitching to not look like some crazy person who didn’t have any self-control. So, instead of plastering the same scowl a few seconds ago for him to see, you flashed a sarcastic smile, waving your hand.

“There’s my beautiful wife,” Jungkook claimed when he was close enough, marching towards you, appearing like he was going to go for a kiss but before he could, you outstretched an arm and stopped him by literally wrapping your fingers around his neck as if you were planning to choke him to death with the gesture (which you were tempted to do).

He rolled his eyes, holding your wrist and bringing it down.

“Can’t I give you a kiss?” he retorted.

“No.”

“And Hoseok can?”

“Hoseok’s my friend.”

“I’m your husband.”

“Ex-husband.”

“Wrong. I haven’t signed any divorce papers, honey, so in the eyes of the law, I’m still very much your husband.” He quickly stole a kiss on the corner of your mouth and you allowed yourself to grimace in annoyance, glaring at him as he took Hoseok’s previous seat.

You watched him order a drink for himself and nachos for sharing. You didn’t say anything while he did all that; you just stared at him, analyzing him, trying to decipher what was going on in that head of his. You honestly had no clue what his thought process was in depriving you of the signature you wanted and then randomly agreeing to meet you again, accompanied with the condition that you’re the one who has to go to him and not the other way around.

As he reasoned, he was still in the middle of training, and he couldn’t just leave even if he wanted to and that’s why you had to make the effort to make this work (he made it clear that he didn’t want to make the effort anyway if it meant it could lead to his and yours divorce).

“How are you?” he asked once he was done ordering and you scoffed.

“Let’s not do that, Jungkook.”

He raised an eyebrow. “Don’t tell me that I’m not allowed to know how you’re doing too.”

“I meant the small talk. Let’s just cut to the chase.”

“Where’s the fun in that?”

“Jungkook.”

“Alright.” He placed an arm against the counter, spinning his stool to face you. “You already know where I stand, though. I still haven’t changed my mind in wanting to work it out first.”

“What? But you told me that if I went here—”

“I would talk to you, not sign the papers,” he finished. “You didn’t really think I’d sign them just like that, right?”

Your stomach dropped.

There goes assuming that the three-hour flight to go here would be worth it.

“I did, actually.” You grumbled. “When are you giving this a rest?”

He seemed annoyed by the rhetoric question. “When are you going to stop thinking that divorce is the answer to our problem?”

“We already did couple’s therapy and that proved to be a waste of time.”

“That’s because you were stubborn and wouldn’t cooperate.”

“Oh, I’m the one who’s stubborn between the both of us? I’m the one who wouldn’t cooperate?”

“Yes.”

“No, I’m not!” You raised your hands up. “You were the one who always said some lame excuse to not attend it with me.”

“Babe, how many times do I have to tell you, my schedule isn’t—”

“Yeah, whatever.” You didn’t let him finish, knowing that he was going to say something about how being in the Navy didn’t grant him the free time you were expecting him to have.

“I’m just saying… you can’t keep on doing this, you know?” you said.

“Can’t keep doing what?”

“Prolonging this. We already broke up, Jungkook. There’s not point in staying married.”

“That’s the thing, though.” He smirked. “I can keep prolonging it.”

Your nostrils flared. “Why?”

“Because I can.”

You think flashes of red were beginning to blur your vision.

Jungkook noticed the rage building up, yet he didn’t back down. “Why are you even so eager to legally separate? Do you plan on getting married again soon?” he asked.

It was supposed to be a joke, because Jungkook didn’t actually think you were seeing anyone at the moment—but at the mention of it, he saw the manner in which your expression slightly shifted, and he narrowed his eyes at you, understanding. “Don’t bullshit me. You aren’t seeing anyone, right?”

You blinked, acting all innocent. “It’s none of your business.”

“It is. You’re still married to me.”

“We’ve broken up for almost a year now, Jungkook.” You groaned, remaining him once again. “If you just signed the goddamn papers, all of this would be out of your hands.”

He scoffed. “You are seeing someone?”

“That is not the point of our conversation.”

“Well, it’s a significant aspect of it.”

“Fine.” You huffed. “I am seeing someone. Happy?”

Jungkook was in fact not happy. He was angry, but then he thought of how he shouldn’t be, because you and him have broken up for almost a year now like you said. Even though he wasn’t in support of that notion, he remembered at least granting you enough freedom to feel like you could date around without thinking about how you were technically cheating on him if ever you did. 

However, he didn’t really think you would find someone. Sure, you were beautiful, you had an amazing personality, there was no question when it came to you attracting men, yet you could be picky most of the time. It was even a miracle how he managed to bag you; though he guessed that he didn’t really have to try that hard in the first place before because the two of you just had so much in common for you to ignore.

“What’s his name?” he asked after a long silence.

You crossed your arms. “Do you have to know?”

“Yes.”

“Fine.” You adjusted yourself in your seat. “It’s Ben.”

Jungkook thought the name sounded stupid. “How long have you been dating him?”

You hesitated, already predicting how he was going to react that you almost exaggerated the answer, but decided against it last minute. “Five weeks.”

He suddenly burst out laughing, the sound echoing inside the bar; it was the exact type of response you were positive he was going to do, proof that you knew him too well and that you shouldn’t have changed your pretense in the first place.

“It’s not funny,” you hissed, noticing that a lot of people were glancing at where you were both situated. “What the hell is funny about what I said?”

“You want to divorce me for a guy you’ve been dating for five weeks?” He carried on snickering; he barely got the whole sentence out because he was too busy catching his breath.

“Of course not! I would just prefer it if I don’t have any baggage left before attempting to commit to another relationship.”

The barmaid came back with Jungkook’s beer and nachos. He thanked her and slid the basket of cheesy nachos to your direction, an offer that you could get a piece if you wanted. However you were neither hungry nor interested in getting anything from him that would elicit a thank you from you, too prideful at this point due to how annoying he was being.

“What does he do for a living?” he asked next.

“I’m not telling you.”

“Why?”

“Because you’re going to make fun of it.”

“Is it worth making fun of?”

“No.”

“Then just tell me.” He threw a chip inside his mouth. 

You pressed your lips together. “He’s a bank clerk.”

Jungkook didn’t laugh this time, but the corners of his mouth were twitching as he grinned, and you found yourself refraining from wanting to strangle him again, questioning why you thought it was a good idea to come here since it was obvious that talking to him properly was an impossible task.

“You’re dating a bank clerk?” he posed the question like it was the most preposterous thing he had heard from you today. “What the hell do the both of you have in common?”

“It doesn’t matter. I’ll have you know that Ben is a very nice guy.”

“That’s what ladies say when a man is horrible in bed.”

“That’s not true.”

“Is he good then?”

“That’s none of your business, Jungkook,” you uttered once more, teeth gritting. “Besides, it’s only been five weeks.”

He smirked. “That’s a no then. It seems that you haven’t slept with him,” he said. “Makes sense. I mean, if you have already slept with another guy, you might be already begging me to get back together. Given that I’m the best sex you’ve ever had.”

You stared at him in disbelief. “How the fuck are you always so arrogant?”

“It comes with the praise I usually get during my escapades, babe.” Jungkook winked at you, hand reaching out for another nacho.

“Oh, so I’m assuming you do have sex with other people now. You know, if you’ve just divorced me, you can go live your happy single life again to go to that without any worries.”

“I don’t sleep with other people—”

“But you just said—”

“I meant before I met you.” He pointed out, giving you a look. “Why are you even thinking about that? Are you jealous?”

“God, you’re fucking impossible.” You practically growled. 

He flashed you another smirk, amused.

“Anyhow,” you began, bringing out the divorce papers from your bag that you should have given him the second you saw him, but as what you think was part of his plan, he did manage to stall you in doing so, “here’s the papers.” You shoved it to his chest, rendering Jungkook no choice but to grab it.

He glanced down at them. “You’re never going to stop until I sign these, huh?”

You nodded. “Never.”

“Fine.” Jungkook flickered his gaze on you. “I’ll sign them.”

You glared at him. “Be serious.”

“I am serious.”

“Are you?”

You were still suspicious, but at the same time, you had high hopes.

“Yes. But I need to meet Ben the bank clerk first.”

Your spirits dropped. “Oh, no, no, no,” you made a huge cross sign with your arms, “you are not giving me another condition just to go against your word in the end.”

“I won’t this time.”

“Yeah, right.” You scoffed loudly.

It was his turn to narrow his eyes at you. “I’m serious. You want my signature or not?”

You bit the insides of your cheeks, gazing at him.

You were no fool, you knew why he wanted to meet him; you knew that it was because he wanted to see it for himself if the guy you replaced him for was actually more good looking than him or at least appeared as if he could survive a fistfight if Jungkook prompted to start one. It was all testosterone and ego, and you contemplated cutting his balls just to get this over with once and for all.

Surely, by then, he would be more agreeable.

“Fine,” you told him. “If you meet him, you’ll sign the papers? Promise?”

He took a sip of his beer, shrugging. “Sure.”

***

Jungkook watched the scene unfold in front of him with an amused expression.

Although he did admit it once that he did get a bit jealous whenever you gave the other guys more attention than him, he loved his best pals too much to care.

It was why he allowed instances like this to happen wherein you made it apparent that you valued their company much more than you did Jungkook. It was evident in the manner in which you laughed loudly as Hoseok, Yoongi, and Namjoon hugged you, each one of them taking turns in lifting your body off the ground a few seconds in glee.

You were seen as a beloved sister to them as they saw Jungkook as a cherished brother in the Navy.

“Alright, that’s enough,” Jungkook reckoned after five seconds.

Namjoon glanced at him, the last one to embrace you. “Jealous?” he teased, reading his mind.

“I am, actually.” Jungkook affirmed. “You three got a better greeting than I did.”

You rolled your eyes at the pettiness of his comment. “That’s because there’s nothing good about seeing you again, Jungkook.”

Jungkook glanced at you. “You wound me, babe.” He placed a dramatic hand on his chest. “Truly, you do.”

The guys stifled a laugh.

Today’s agenda was supposed to be a catch up session with the three guys. News spread quickly yesterday that you were in town thanks to Hoseok, and given that the three of them were good friends of yours, you didn’t decline the offer when Jungkook informed you that they wanted to meet you while you were here.

So, as the next day came in and the evening rolled, they met up with you at the same resto-bar Hoseok found you in. It did seem like the only venue that was both near enough from the academy and the hotel you were staying at that offered adequate food. You observed that the occupants of the place were composed primarily of people wearing naval aviator uniforms or motorcyclists stopping by before going forth with their ride.

“So,” Yoongi began just as Jungkook headed to the counter, volunteering to relay all of your orders to the barmaid, “we heard from a little birdie that you’re seeing someone else.”

You gave him a look. “Still a big gossip, I see.”

“Oh, it’s not counted as gossip if it’s what Jungkook’s been complaining about the whole time at the showers,” Namjoon humored.

Hoseok agreed with a nod. “It’s what he’s been nonstop yapping about earlier when we were flying,” he said. “Seriously, ____. Release the boy from misery and just get back together.”

They watched you grimace. “You all know my relationship with Jungkook has been long complicated for it to be as easy as that.”

“Did he cheat on you?” Namjoon asked.

“No, of course not.” You scoffed. “He’s an annoying shit for the most part but he’s not a cheater.”

He physically relaxed at the confirmation. “Good, because I don’t think I can beat him in a fistfight.”

Yoongi chuckled. “What’s the matter then? You still haven’t spared us any details on why you’re so keen to divorce him.”

“There’s no particular reason,” you sighed with a throw of your hand. “It’s just a compilation of the small things. He’s away most of the time, I’m away most of the time when he’s available—we fight a lot, argue a lot, it just doesn’t seem to be worth fighting for anymore.”

“So, you don’t love him anymore?”

“I…” you trailed, abruptly feeling like you were being interrogated, “I mean, love doesn’t go away easily. And it hasn’t been that long since we called it quits.”

The three men shared a look among themselves.

You straighten your posture. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“What does?” Hoseok queried.

“That look you guys just gave each other. I don’t like it.”

“That’s just their faces, babe,” Jungkook reappeared, taking the liberty to take the seat on your right. “What are you fellas talking about?” he asked his buddies.

They didn’t dare utter a word. You were under the impression that they had an understanding between them that talking about your relationship right in Jungkook’s face was something one should not ought to do.

You, on the other hand, took it as your cue to speak, starting another topic to hopefully erase the previous one. “Ben said he can come. He’s boarding tonight,” you told Jungkook as he’s sipping from his glass of service water.

“That’s good.” He didn’t look as interested as he was yesterday.

“Who’s Ben?” It was Hoseok again.

“The bank clerk,” Jungkook answered.

“The new guy you’re seeing?” Yoongi asked you.

“Yep,” you said before turning to Jungkook. “And can you please refer to him by his name? He’s not just a bank clerk.”

“Is he a boring bank clerk?” Jungkook asked, that teasing smirk flashing on his mouth.

“Will he be here tomorrow?” Namjoon chimed in.

You nodded. “Hopefully.”

“Great,” Jungkook placed his glass down on the table. “It’ll be enough time to get to know him.”

He said ‘enough time’ like his time was limited because it really was. He informed you before you parted ways yesterday that he was graduating from the academy this Friday, and that after that, he was almost 100% sure he was going to be deployed again with some of his classmates for a mission that you wouldn’t be allowed to know the details of. 

Your stomach somersaulted when he told you that.

Somehow, despite convincing yourself that you no longer cared for Jungkook, the thought of his life being put at risk again once he was back on the field made you want to vomit in anxiety. It reminded you that his very dangerous occupation was one of the root causes of your separation, for there were months wherein you couldn’t take the fear of waiting in uncertainty on whether he was going to come home to you or not, regardless of how he promised he would every single time.

It was funny, you thought. One of your similarities with your husband was that the both of you were adrenaline junkies. You and him bonded over extreme rides in amusement parks, activities that got your heart pumping and gave you the sensation of being on top of the world—and yet it was the reason why you didn’t want to be with him anymore as well, too scared to continue loving him if he always sought for adventure and danger through being a naval aviator.

“You knew what you were signing up for, ____,” he told you during one of your many arguments. “You entered this relationship knowing the nature of my job. You can’t expect to adjust for you when it comes to—”

“I’m not expecting you to adjust for me, Kook,” you replied in exasperation, practically begging him to listen to you with an open mind at that point. “God, I just want you to consider me. I just want to feel that for once, you actually remember that someone’s always waiting for you to come home.”

Whenever conversations like that popped back inside your memory, you forced yourself to push it away. It wasn’t an experience you wanted to relive. You’ve spent far too many nights just crying because of how it felt like to be in a constant state of worry for the person you found yourself loving the most.

“We can all meet him, right?” asked Hoseok, looking at the other guys for back up. 

You surveyed them, raising your eyebrows before saying your answer.

“Like the hell you would.”

[pboogerswbb]

SO IT GOES - chapter 3

Paige Bueckers x oc Warnings: language, sexual themes and language, bad proofreading Wordcount: 6K A/C: a little post win celebration!! enjoy this ;)

-

Before London

I check my phone, 6:30AM. Way too early for anything, let alone a meeting. Climbing into my Jeep, I pull out of the parking lot onto the road, only to come to a sudden stop, my foot stepping on the break before I can think. Standing there, in the early morning sun painting her skin golden, is Izara, holding her phone and tapping her heeled foot on the ground impatiently. She’s in a black sheath dress that hugs her body all the way down to her ankles, not too tight to be inappropriate, but snug in just the right places to leave me wanting more. There’s a thick leather belt on her waist, the golden buckle matching her earrings perfectly. Naturally she looks perfect, the slight frown on her face only making her more beautiful.

I pull up next to her, rolling down the passenger window.

“Yo, Zari!”

She jumps before finally seeing me, her hard face softening.

“Oh my goodness, you scared me,” the girl chuckles, her hand on her chest from the surprise. “What are you doing up this early?”

“I gotta meeting, some promo stuff,” I explain. “Where you headed?”

Zari looks around and I can tell she’s growing frustrated, letting out an annoyed laugh. “Well I’m supposed to be heading to work but my Uber isn’t here and isn’t answering any calls or anything,” she complains. “I’m literally about to be late, and Linda is going to murder me with her own, cold hand-”

“Woah, woah, we’re a mess here but we don’t do that even in America,” I laugh, reaching over to push the door open for Izara. “Lemme drive you Iz.”

She thinks for a while, looking around and finally sighing in defeat, climbing gracefully into my Jeep. 

“Are you sure you have time?” She asks, concerned as she crosses her legs and locks eyes with me. Like clockwork, my chest begins to pound, but I let it. I don’t wanna look away from the green of her pupils just yet.

“You going to the Wings office building?” I ask, leaning against my seat. The girl nods.

“That’s perfect, I was going that way already,” I lie, knowing it was 20 minutes in the opposite direction. But I couldn’t leave Izara in trouble, and she seemed so worried with that frown on her face. This is worth being late for.

“Thank you darling, you’re an angel. Really.” Zari sighs in relief, reaching over to pat my forearm. The goosebumps are immediate, spreading all over my body as I pull into the next lane. 

My eyes flicker from the traffic to her, and my stomach begins to twist. The other day I was beating myself up over being an idiot around her, and now I got this girl in my car, humming to the Drake song that’s playing. Say something charming, quick.

“You always dress so fancy,” I say, leaning back with one hand on the wheel, the other on my lap. It almost comes out like an insult. Great.

“Is that bad?” Izara quickly replies, turning her head to me. From my peripheral vision I can see the glimmer in the corner of her eye, she’s joking. In my head I pat myself on the back for finally learning her cues.

Grinning, I shrug and lick my lower lip. “I dunno, I think you should be dressing in basketball shorts and sports bras like the rest of us.”

“You think I could pull that off?” Her tone is coy, teasing. Almost… flirty? No, I’m imagining.

“You know you could,” I murmur, mouth going dry at the thought of her in such little clothing before me.

She laughs, nose scrunching up as she does. “I’m not so sure. I don’t have abs like you.”

My palms grow clammy against the wheel at her words, the idea of Zari watching me close enough to notice my body in that way leaving me tongue tied.

“Uh, well, not everyone can I guess,” I mumble, my voice shakier than I’d like. I should’ve said something else - like how I think she looks gorgeous, how the softness of her stomach only made me want to kiss all over it on my way down, to take my time with her. Okay, maybe not that part.

The car falls silent, the motor humming constantly in the background, interrupted only by the Summer Walker and Drake song playing through the stereo. 

Staring out the window, Zari begins to softly sing along, barely audible but just enough for me to notice.

“Girls can't never say they need it, girls can't never say now, give it to me like you need it, baby, want you to hear me screaming, heavy breathing,I don't need a reason, baby.” 

The dirty lyrics spilling from her lips contrasting with her poise and elegance make my mind spin, a burn igniting somewhere deep in my abdomen.

“Didn’t take you for a Drake girl,” I smirk, turning the song up for her. 

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Zari scoffs, crossing her arms over her chest.

“Well, you don’t seem like someone who listens to rap,” I admit.

“What do I seem like then?”

“Like you listen to classical music or,” I think for a while. “Well I dunno some classy shit. Whatever British people listen to.”

Zari laughs, shaking her head. “Would you believe me if I say British people are just like you?”

I join her laughter. She had a point.

“Anyway, my brother loves Drake. His biggest fan, I swear,” Izara adds, sliding the sunglasses from her forehead to her face as the sun rises in the horizon, colouring the sky with a pink hue.

“Nope, that’s me,” I answer competitively.

Izara turns to me, a wide smile spread across her face. “You’d get along. You’re kinda similar actually.”

“Oh yeah? What’s his name?”

“Kiran.” 

There’s a hint of longing in the girl’s voice, head turning to look out the window again.

“You miss him?” I ask carefully.

She nods. “A lot.”

“He watch hoops?” 

Zari laughs, her mood instantly lifting. “He does, he thinks you’re hot.”

I scrunch my face, shaking my head. “Yeah, Ion swing that way. Sorry.”

“That’s what I told him,” the girl chuckles.

I glance at her, still unsure about which way she swung. Usually it went two ways with the straight girls - either they assumed I was into them and made it very clear they didn't want me, avoiding my gaze, flinching when I touched them or they got overly flirty, getting some sort of power trip by assuming I wanted them. With Izara, I wasn’t sure. 

“You just need some, someone that's calm and patient, submission, domination,” we sing together, making the girl sitting next to me giggle as our voices blend together. Maybe she wasn’t straight.

“Arched back, deep stroke, white wine, Weed smoke, that's my best combination, You just need some dick with no complications,” I hum by myself now, Zari going quiet, too modest to match the lyrics. As my eyes flicker to her I realise I’m causing her to blush, the pink of her cheeks spreading all over her face. I think she’s flustered. Maybe not straight.

I push further, continuing to sing casually as my free hand rests on my shorts, tapping the rhythm, wondering if she was watching me beneath the dark sunglasses hiding her green emerald eyes. “How 'bout I just take my time? You call up my line, I fall up inside you, Girls need love, too, I know.”

Her chest is heaving, and her throat bobs as she swallows, fidgeting on her seat into a more comfortable position. She is flustered. Definitely not straight.

“You aight?” I ask, trying my best to bury the growing grin on my face. I got her squirming on her seat, me, just by singing. I mean I knew my singing was good but damn (or more likely it was the lyrics but whatever). 

Zari clears her throat, chuckling awkwardly. “It’s just so hot all the time,” she sighs, rubbing her chest and avoiding my gaze as we reach the office building.

“Yeah,” I agree, eyes locked on her side profile, parking the car by the front entrance.

Finally, the dark haired girl turns to me, lifting the sunglasses off her face. There she is, those green eyes that made me feel intimidated and comforted all at once.

“Thank you so much again love,” she smiles and I can feel myself melting away.

“Anytime Iz, forreal.” 

Our eyes lock just for a second longer than might be considered casual, until she lowers her gaze to my neck. Zari’s long, slender fingers reach over, dragging across my neck as she fiddles with my chain, fixing it with gentle hands. Her long nails scratch softly against my skin as she does so, sending jolts across my body, all the way to each finger and each toe. I nearly choke as she holds the cross between her fingertips admiring it for a moment, before her other hand pulls some of my hair caught underneath the chain free. I can hear my pulse in my ears.

“The lock was showing,” Zari hums pulling away. It takes everything in me not to pull her back in, so instead I squeeze the wheel underneath my hands till my knuckles go red.

“O-oh,” I mumble in a hushed tone from the way I was trying to keep my breathing under control. “Th-thank you.”

“You’re welcome,” the girl smiles as if oblivious to the effect she’s having on me. I wonder if she really is.

As she climbs out, her phone falls off her lap to the floor of my car. I quickly pick it up for her, glancing at the screen as I do.

Jasper 3 missed calls

“Oh oops, thank you,” Zari smiles, grabbing the phone from my hand, not seeing the way I was eyeing the screen. “Have a good meeting Paige.”

“You too,” I smile, following her with my gaze until she’s inside.

Jasper huh. Maybe she was straight after all. Rubbing my jaw, I pull back into the highway, squirming on my seat as my thighs press together. My mind is spinning, still feeling the tingles of Zari’s touch on my neck, her fingernails dragging against my skin. The goosebumps are travelling straight to my core.

“Shit,” I mumble to myself, feeling the way I was dripping into my boxers, hand on my thigh itching to travel into my shorts, to swirl in my folds at the thought of Izara touching me like that. Not now Paige, later.

Glancing at the clock I realise I’m already nearly late to my meeting. Fuck it, worth it. As long as I got that girl to work on time.

-

Jasper had called me five times. FIVE TIMES in 24 hours. I had been on edge since yesterday, the pain in my shoulders growing more tense. Frankly, I was surprised by the fact I still had any teeth left from all the teeth grinding I’d been doing. I needed to disconnect, turn my phone off and have a self-care day. So I’d found myself at the communal gym in the apartment building before work, 30 minutes of stairmaster and some lifting bound to get my mind off things.

“4, 5, 6, 7… 8…” I count to myself, doing back extensions as I hold a plate weight against my chest. Sweat dripping down my back, I climb off the machine and place the weight down, nothing in my mind but the burn in my upper back.

“Mornin’” I hear a familiar voice from behind me, hoarse with sleep still. My head snaps back and it’s exactly who I expected it to be. Paige, in grey basketball shorts and a navy blue Uconn tee, slightly too small, apparent from the way it fits tightly around her shoulders and arms. Her eyes are still red and puffy from sleep.

Suddenly I feel the need to check myself in the mirror, tightening my ponytail and fixing the pink lululemon set hoping the blonde doesn’t notice. I wish I’d worn a bit of makeup. Still, I feel relieved when I see her. I could use a friend right now.

“Oh good morning!” I smile, taking a sip of my water bottle. “Don’t you have a weight room at College Park?” 

Paige scoffs looking around offended. “Wow, I can leave if you want me to.”

I giggle like a schoolgirl, my hand subconsciously landing on her arm as I laugh. I feel it flex underneath my touch, surprisingly muscular. 

“No, no, I’m glad to see you. Just surprised,” I say, pulling back, watching a grin grow on the taller girl’s face.

“The AC’s still broke so,” the blonde explains, looking around the gym. “You doing upper body?”

“I am,” I hum, walking towards the weights, my eyes flickering to Paige’s reflection in the mirror. It was insane how she had clearly just rolled out of bed, no makeup, hair slicked back in a ponytail and still she looks great.

“Same, same,” she mumbles, watching closely as I stretch my arms and wrists to prepare. “Can I join you?”

“Sure,” I say smiling. “Shoulder press?”

“You got it,” Paige agrees, grabbing a bench and setting it up for us. “Ladies first.”

I laugh again, planting myself on the bench with a set of 15s. To my shock Paige grabs them from my hands, giving me a pair of 20s instead.

“Paigeuh!” I complain but she shakes her head.

“C’mon, I’mma be your personal trainer,” she grins, standing behind me and meeting my eyes in the mirror. Her hands land on my shoulders, rubbing gently, immediately easing the pain there. I nearly moan, forgetting my surroundings for a moment.

“Look at these shoulders,” she says, squeezing the muscles there. “You can do the 20s Iz. I’ll spot you.”

She sounds so sure, so confident that I have no other choice but to feel confident too, picking up the weights and getting into position.

“Gimme eight.”

Nodding, I begin to do one rep after another, a shake in my arms already visible on the fifth. I focus on trying to keep a straight face on the sixth, Paige notices my struggle and places her fingers underneath my elbows, sparks shooting up my arms.

“I gotchu, two more.”

Something about her touch, her belief in me powers me through it. After two more reps, the blonde grabs the weights from me.

“Holy shit,” I gasp, rubbing my forehead. Paige chuckles, looking at my reflection.

“Ion think I’ve ever heard you swear before,” she says, making me laugh.

“Well lucky you I guess we’re really friends now,” I reply, meeting her blue eyes in the mirror. She’s biting on her bottom lip, staring, hand resting on my shoulder.

“You’re tense as hell, yknow?” Paige laughs, feeling my shoulders. My skin burns underneath her touch and I know it’s because it’s been a while since I’ve had anyone that near. It feels good to be touched. Even by a friend.

I nod. “I know.”

Furrowing her brows, the blonde begins to massage my stiff shoulders, so gently I feel like a baby bird in her hands, the way her thumbs dig into my muscles ever so slightly. My eyes fluttering shut, I hum compliantly, feeling my muscles begin to relax under her touch.

“Is this okay?” Paige whispers, her voice merely audible.

“Mhm,” I murmur. “A little harder is okay too.”

I hear a heavy exhale from behind me when the blonde’s fingers press deeper, massaging against my upper back, moving upwards to the sides of my neck. Goosebumps travel all over me. I feel a familiar burn, a faint memory of a feeling from the past spreading over my upper thighs and lower abdomen, stirring within me.

“Like this?”

Her voice is gravelly, a soft mutter on her lips. I feel myself melting underneath her touch, a heat pooling between my legs from the skilled way she works my muscles. I could tell she was skilled with her hands, just from the sure, confident way in which she moves against me..

All of a sudden I hear the door go, and I know the blonde hears it too as her hands retract, both our gazes turning to the entrance where another neighbour walks in, greeting politely.

“Hello,” I smile, my voice coming out soft. My mind spins as I grab the weights again, ready for a second round. But part of me is distracted by the stirring in my stomach, still apparent, still distracting. I watch Paige settle behind me, her face even redder than mine.

“Ready?” She asks, our gazes locking. I lift the weights, preparing for the movement.

“Ready.”

-

“Give me two more please,” I encourage the blonde girl, her mouth shut tight in a narrow line, brows furrowed in concentration as she stands beside me, staring into the mirror, shaking her head.

“Ahh shit,” she breathes, hissing as her arms shake, not able to bring the next bicep curl further than halfway.

“C’mon, two more,” I demand, placing my fingertips underneath her wrists, fooling the blonde’s brain that I’m helping. It’s enough for Paige to finish two more reps, letting out a relieved groan as she places the weights down.

“You’re tryna kill me Iz,” she groans, rubbing her sweaty face with her hand, veins becoming more prominent from the strain.

“Nope! Just knew you could do better,” I smile, grabbing my smaller set of weights for my final rep. My body felt exhausted in the best way, all my worries completely forgotten. In the mirror I can see the baby hairs curling around my face, spilling out from my high pony, sweat dripping from my neck, down my chest, between my cleavage. Eyes flickering to Paige, I notice her gaze on my ass as she settles to stand behind me, but I don’t think much of it.

“Alright, let’s go,” Paige smiles, meeting my stare in the mirror.

Picking up the weights, I begin to do my bicep curls. One, two. On the third one I’m already struggling, making me huff and subconsciously swing my hips ever so slightly to help my hands curl all the way.

The blonde tuts behind me, her hands finding my waist with ease, holding tight. It surprises me enough that I nearly drop the weights.

“Watch your core Iz,” Paige murmurs, meeting my gaze in the mirror. Her front is hovering just an inch away from my back, radiating with heat and electricity as her hands drag around to the exposed skin of my upper abdomen. “Squeeze here,” Paige whispers, her touch moving downwards and sideways to the sides of my hips. “And here.”

Lips slightly parted, I nod, my chest positively heaving now. Focusing on flexing my core muscles, I keep doing reps with a newfound focus. Though the way my body tingles is distracting, making my head swirl.

“That’s it,” Paige coos, her arms snaking around to help me with the last few reps, hands supporting my wrists. For some reason, an involuntary trembling breath spills from my mouth as she inches closer, the curve of my ass pressing against her. I suppose I’m just not used to this sort of closeness with my friends yet.

“Aaaand eight, yes ma’am!” The blonde grins, grabbing the weights and setting them back for me, brushing closer to my back before walking off. The loss of contact brings me back from the swirling thoughts in my head, as I blink and take in my surroundings, and the blonde girl in front of me. I notice the way her biceps have grown from the strain, arms covered in veins and glistening with sweat. 

“That was so good,” I sigh, throwing my arm over my face as I try to catch my breath. Paige holds up her hand, and I high five it with a giggle. 

“Good?!” She calls out. “You a masochist or sum?”

I scoff, a little taken aback by the crude question. “Rude!” I laugh, red in the face and playfully shove the blonde off. She’s barely affected, my push not hard enough to shake her from her stand.

“You got work?” Paige asks, sipping on her water, jaw prominent as she throws her head back. The veins on her hand are still popping, wrapped around the bottle.

“Uhh, yes. But I do have to shower first.”

“You need a ride?”

I shake my head, she already drove me once. That has to be enough.

“Oh no thank you,” I smile, walking towards the exit, the blonde following at my heel and opening the door for me.

“You sure? I don’t mind,” Paige asks again, more insistent. Like she wants to. But I couldn’t let her.

“No, no, I promise.”

-

“So, how’s Dallas?” KK’s voice comes through my speaker. I’m sitting by my cubby at College Park Center, still half empty. Part of me refused to leave my stuff here, to decorate, to make it home. But I was slowly trying to change things around, forcing myself to place some sports bras and shorts on the top shelf. That would be a start.

“Uhh, it’s Dallas,” I murmur, brushing through my hair, still damp from my post practice shower. 

“You forgettin’ us already?” The girl on the phone teases, making me scoff as I tie my shoes back on. 

“Y’all wouldn’t let me.”

“You right girl,” KK replies. I pack my Nike bag, throwing on a black hoodie over my sports bra and shorts. Practice had run late and I’d spend my time in the shower, trying to revise plays, my arms killing me from the workout earlier.

“You try barbecue yet?” The girl asks. She had texted me ten minutes ago, claiming it was an emergency. Ever since I called she’d been asking me trivial questions about everything she could think of - clearly me and her had different definitions of emergency.

“Not yet, haven’t been out much actually,” I admit, grabbing the phone where it’s set on the shelf, KK’s face taking up the screen, watching me.

“Well I was gon ask if Dallas has hot girls but guess you haven’t seen em then.”

I laugh, throwing the bag over my shoulder. “Well, actually…” I start, a small grin growing across my face.

“Yo, I see that grin P Boogers!” KK gasps. “You haven’t told me about no girl.”

I put my hands up in defeat, mouth twisting into a tight smile. “Nah, it’s not worth mentioning. She ain’t even from here. She’s British.”

“Whatttt???? She hot?”

“She’s fine, way outta my league.”

The girl on the phone scoffs, her expression turning serious. “You’re not funny.”

“I’m forreal!” I laugh. “She’s classy. Bro she drinks wine.”

“Damn, so she’s grown. Didn’t you say sumn about being celibate?” KK asks, making me groan.

I rub my face, walking out of the dressing room into the confusing hallways of College Park Center. First left, then right, I tell myself, KK’s voice echoing around the narrow corridor.

“Nahhh don’t remind me. I was outta my mind after that Natty win,” I reply, opening door after another to get out of the building.

“So what’s her nameeee, send a pic,” the girl says, her voice coy.

“I think she’s straight,” I scoff, walking through another door.

KK cackles loudly. “Like that’s stopped you before.”

“Alright, bye now.”

“Wait wait, I miss you,” the younger girl pouts. God, if she knew how bad I missed her. Missed all of them.

“Miss you too KK, y’all gotta come visit soon.”

“Yea, love you.”

“Love you, bye.”

I hang up, the silence echoing around me tugging at my heartstrings. But before I let the sadness wash over me, I’m met with Izara standing in a corridor by the exit, tapping away at her phone.

“Oh, hey Paige,” she smiles widely when she spots me, wearing a long black skirt and a sleeveless white turtleneck, looking beautiful as ever. Of course, what else would you expect?

“Hey Iz,” I smile, walking over to her. “You heading out?”

She nods, showing me her phone. “About to Uber,” the girl replies. With a roll of my eyes I open the door, nodding my head toward the open air where the sun was beginning to set.

“No, Paige, I couldn’t,” she complains but I’m too stubborn to give up.

“Don’t make me hold this heavy ass door open more than I need to,” I complain, still feeling the burn in my biceps and shoulders from the earlier workout. “We both going home anyway.”

With a dramatic scoff, Izara admits defeat, walking past me. I follow her, watching as the orange light of the setting sun paints us both warm and golden.

“Yeah I thought so,” I hum confidently, mostly to myself.

Zari’s hand pushes my arm playfully. “I only said yes because you seemed so pitiful,” she claims, head held high as always. My heart grows warm when the girl comes to a halt before her door, so used to me opening them for her already. I do so, knowing I was pleasing her. Good. I could easily be her friend knowing I got to have these moments to please her. That’s all I needed.

We pull out of the parking lot, serenaded by the R&B songs playing in the car, too drained and hungry after the long day to talk. But it felt comfortable, I had missed this. Having someone to just be quiet with. 

The silence between us is soon interrupted, this time Zari’s stomach rumbling. Guess she was as hungry as I was.

“Shit, sorry,” she chuckles, covering her face with embarrassment. I laugh too, finding it endearing, the way she was always so confident and together but letting me see her flustered. “I didn’t have time to eat lunch, Linda had a surprise meeting with me.”

I glance at the girl. “Good news?”

She nods with a grin. “Yes, she liked the video I made. My first solo project. The one we filmed at your first practice?”

I smile too, the lightness of relief in her voice something I must not have heard before. “That’s awesome Iz, not that I’m surprised.”

From the corner of my eye, I watch as she turns her body to me. 

“You know, only my family calls me Iz. Well Izzie. And some childhood friends,” she starts. “And you now, I guess.”

“I-is that okay?” I ask, not even realising I’d come up with another nickname all on my own.

She thinks for a while, a coy smile spreading on her face. “Yes, it is. I like it.”

“Well Iz, you wanna pick up a lil something to eat? I’m starving.”

The girl looks at me clearly mulling it over in her head.

“Ion wanna mess up your plans, but you shouldn’t have to cook every day.”

She sighs, nodding. “Okay.”

“Okay… And I’m payin.”

“Paigeuh!”

“C’mon, let’s celebrate your big win.”

-

“I can’t believe they do take-away ribs here,” Izara chuckles, holding both of our meals while I park the car, pulling up in a desolate parking lot. The sun had long set, turning the sky black and filling it with stars.

“They don’t do that in London?” I ask.

“I don’t know, I don’t really eat ribs,” the girl admits. Turning to her about to grab my food, my eyes skim her top, the way it hugs her breasts tight, the way the white fab- wait. White.

“Uh Iz?”

“Yeah?”

I clear my throat, frustrated that I hadn’t thought it through.

“Ribs are probably the messiest food ever, and you’re wearing white,” I murmur, making the girl glance down at herself.

“No no, don’t worry. I’m a very neat eater,” Izara chuckles lightheartedly but I shake my head.

“Nah, you don’t get it. It don’t matter, you’re gon make a mess.”

Unbuckling my seatbelt, I reach into the backseat and pull out a large black t-shirt from my bag, handing it to the girl.

“You want me to put this on?” Izara questions, holding it in her hand disbelievingly.

“Ion want your pretty shirt to get ruined,” I tell her, our eyes meeting. “It’s clean, I promise.”

Hesitantly, the girl pulls it over her head, careful not to mess up her hair and makeup. Seeing the way the shirt, my shirt, swallows her whole, the way it drapes over her body makes me swoon. And I know I’m staring but I can’t look away, or kill the smile spreading across my face from the flutters growing in my chest.

Izara looks down, letting out a small chuckle. “Alright, guess I’m ready to eat.”

“You look it,” I laugh, handing her the smaller portion of ribs, and the side of mashed potatoes.

“So… how do I do this?” She asks almost shyly, looking at the meat drenched in sauce.

“You just gotta go for it ma,” I encourage her, the nickname spilling without any intention or thought as I grab a rib and bite into it, the sauce already dripping down my chin, making the girl next to me laugh.

“You already made a mess!” She snorts, covering her mouth with her hand as she giggles.

I shrug, taking another bite, the savoury flavour soothing my hunger already. 

“C’monn, don’t be shy,” I cheer, mouth full of food. Finally, the girl takes a tiny nibble off the corner, careful not to mess up her face.

“Yo did I give you my shirt for nothing? Bite into it Iz.”

Rolling her eyes the dark haired girl finally opens her pretty mouth wider, taking a proper bite. I clap my hands, making even more of a mess on all my fingers. Izara dabs a napkin around her mouth gently, wiping the sauce off before speaking.

“That’s… Really good,” she admits. I nod knowingly, taking another bite, which makes the girl beside me laugh once again.

“Oh god, how’d you manage to get it on your nose Paige,” she giggles, shaking her head at me. “I didn’t know you were such a messy eater.”

“Oh you got no idea,” I grin, wiping my nose on a tissue. Izara, however, is too busy eating to pick up on my implied meaning. Soon, her face is covered in brown sauce too, as we take turns laughing at one another.

“This is my sensory hell,” she whines, eyeing her sticky hands. “I’m overwhelmed.”

“Hollup, hollup,” I snicker, grabbing a tissue with my clean hands and leaning over. Ever so carefully, I hold her chin, wiping as softly as I can - not because she feels vulnerable or weak, but because I’m afraid if I do it too harshly I might disrupt her and make her go away. I didn’t want her to.

Izzie bats her eyes, looking everywhere but my gaze until I’m done. A soft blush radiates her cheeks until I finally pull away, fingertips tingling from the contact. Clearing her throat, the girl interrupts the moment.

“How’s your mac n cheese?” She asks, pointing to the side in my takeaway box.

“So good,” I say. “You wanna try?”

She hesitates. “Is that okay?”

Rolling my eyes I grab a forkful of the macaroni oozing with cheese, feeding it to the girl without thinking much more about the gesture. Only when our eyes lock as her mouth spreads open for me, my heart begins to pound in my chest. Her plump, wide lips wrapping around the fork. That familiar heat begins to pool between my legs again. Shit. I quickly pull away, looking down, listening to the satisfied hum from the girls mouth.

“Oh wow. That’s the best mac n cheese I’ve ever had.”

“Yeah?” I ask with a grin, watching her lit up face as she nods.

“Yes.”

“Let’s switch then,” I say confidently, taking her mashed potatoes and handing the dark haired girl my side instead.

“No, Paige don’t be silly,” she resists, but I remain stubborn.

“Already done.”

Izara smiles gratefully, taking another bite of the macaroni and humming with joy as she eats it. I didn’t like mashed potatoes much, but it was all worth it to see her face gleaming like this.

The girl goes quiet for a while, watching the cars outside driving by before she speaks.

“Thank you Paige,” she softly says. “I’ve had such a bad couple of days, you made me forget all about it.”

My heart aches, I wanna wrap her up in my arms and pull her in - but it seems a little too much even for me so I remain still, eyes locked on her leaning on the passenger seat in my t-shirt.

“Jasper?” I ask, maybe reaching but too curious not to say anything.

Her brows are furrowed, her catlike eyes flickering to me.

“I didn’t mean to look but saw the missed calls yesterday, sorry,” I admit. Taking it in, Izzie looks out the window again, letting out a deep sigh.

“Yeah, Jasper.”

“Ex-boyfriend?” I continue to question.

The girl fiddles with her rings. “Something like that.”

I kiss my teeth, turning to look out the window too.

“Figures, seen my friends get fucked over men like that all the time.”

She scoffs, licking her lips. “How’d you know it was him who did the fucking over?”

“You don’t seem like the type,” I say gently, eyes flickering to her. “You don’t move to Dallas, Texas over anything small.”

“Or maybe I’m running away,” she suggests, making me shake my head.

“I dunno about that Miss Schedule,” I chuckle carefully. “Besides, men have a way of doing that.”

Her brows furrow and she meets my gaze. “Women do too, you know.”

Bursting into a single laugh, I feel amused at her words. Like she’d know anything about it.

“How’d you know?”

“I’ve dated women.”

Oh.

Holdup.

So you’re telling me, the girl next to me isn’t straight? That my initial suspicions weren’t just hopeless wishes of an extremely horny person. No, she’s bi. Of course she’s bi, there’s no way a straight woman could dress like she does, have the charisma she does.

Suddenly my mind is swirling around the memories of each glance, each time our hands grazed one another, each praise that spilled from Izzie’s lips, each time my eyes flickered to her to only find that she’s already watching. Suddenly it all means more. Oh fuck, what am I doing.

“Youuu… okay there?” Izara asks, her tone uneasy.

I finally snap out of it. “Uh, yeah. Sorry. I had no idea, I just assum-”

“Don’t worry, people usually think I’m straight,” she laughs it off easily, but I can tell it’s bothering her a little. My reaction.

“My bad, I shouldn’t have assumed,” I say sheepishly.

“It’s not your fault, truthfully, I don’t even know if I still am or if it was just a phase.”

Oh. 

Surely she would’ve felt it too, the electricity between us. The way it felt the moment our eyes met, when we touched. Surely that would be plenty of confirmation for her sexuality. Unless it was just me feeling it. Fuck, who cares. I’m celibate, I’m happy, I’m going to be Rookie of The Year and I’m not gonna worry about girls. Even ones as perfect as Izara.

“You take an Uber to work every day?” I ask to change the topic.

“I’ve got to. I don’t have a license here. Or a car,” Izzie answers, making me scoff.

“I can drive you, easy,” I suggest.

The dark haired girl shakes her head, meeting my eyes. Challenging me.

“Absolutely not. That’s final.”

“Izzie, c’mon. We go to the same place most days anyway. Lemme drive you,” I insist but she won’t budge, her eyes as hard as her stance on the topic. That is until I find the magic word.

“Please,” I plead, softening my tone.

Her eyes soften, and with a final sigh I know I’ve got her.

-

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[hsnlv]

unexpectedly yours. | p.sh

req!: I would love a fic about Sunghoon falling in love with the most unexpected person ever…. (the rest is here!)

pairing: sunghoon x fem!reader

synopsis: sunghoon always thought he’d fall for someone quiet and delicate, but meeting you—wild curls, sun-kissed skin, and unmatched chaos—changes everything. as he falls deeper, he learns love isn’t what he expected; it’s better.

wc: 1.09k

a/n: this one, to me, IS VERY ADORBSSSS (especially towards the end🤭). and im sorry if what the request-er (?)wanted is not delivered as perfectly :( but i still love this and i hope you do too!! feedbacks and comments are highly appreciated (through inbox or comments idm!)💗 happy reading lovelies!!🎀 here’s my masterlist!

park sunghoon wasn’t the type to attend parties. but here he was, leaning against a kitchen counter, sipping a drink he didn’t like, wondering for the millionth time why he had let jake drag him here.

“you’re too cool for your own good,” jake had teased earlier. “seriously, hoon. maybe you’ll meet someone who makes you loosen up a little.”

sunghoon wasn’t in the mood to “loosen up.” parties weren’t his thing, and meeting people definitely wasn’t on his to-do list.

but then, he saw you.

you were hard to miss.

standing in the middle of the living room, you were laughing so hard your shoulders shook, a carefree sound that rose above the music. your skin glowed under the warm party lights—a rich, sun-kissed tone that made you look like summer incarnate.

your outfit wasn’t what anyone would call stylish, with your mismatched patterns and wild curly hair that seemed to have a mind of its own. but somehow, you looked radiant. untamed. completely, unapologetically yourself.

his gaze lingered longer than it should have. your body wasn’t what most people called “perfect”—soft in places he wasn’t used to seeing celebrated, your curves wrapped in confidence. you weren’t quiet or shy or delicate, the way he always thought his “type” would be.

and yet, you were magnetic.

he was so caught up in the way you threw your head back to laugh again, your curls bouncing wildly, that he didn’t notice jake sidling up beside him.

“she’s something, huh?” jake asked, smirking.

sunghoon blinked. “who?”

“don’t play dumb. the girl you’ve been staring at for, like, five minutes.”

“i wasn’t staring,” sunghoon said, looking away too quickly to be convincing.

“uh-huh. you should go talk to her.”

“she’s not my type.”

jake rolled his eyes. “your type is boring. she’s fun. go.”

sunghoon didn’t know why he listened. but before he could second-guess himself, his feet were already moving toward you.

you turned as he approached, your eyes wide and curious, and smiled like you were greeting an old friend.

hi,” she said, her voice light and playful. “you’re…” she tilted her head, studying him. “jake’s friend, right?”

“yeah. i’m sunghoon.”

she smiled, bright and unfiltered. “nice to meet you, sunghoon. i’m (y/n).”

he hesitated, then blurted out the first thing that came to mind. “you… like dancing?”

y/n squinted at him, as if trying to gauge if he was serious. “no, i hate it. that’s why i’ve been embarrassing myself for the past hour.”

sunghoon blinked, caught off guard by her sarcasm.

“you don’t talk much, do you?” she teased, leaning against the wall, her curly hair brushing her shoulders.

“i talk,” he said defensively.

“yeah? then say something interesting.”

he frowned, and she laughed again, clearly amused by his discomfort.

and just like that, she’d effortlessly disarmed him.

────── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──────

weeks later

it didn’t take long for you to become a constant in sunghoon’s life.

you were a whirlwind of chaos and confidence, with your mismatched outfits, endless jokes, and unpredictable energy. where he was quiet, you were loud. where he was composed, you were messy.

and yet, he couldn’t imagine a day without you.

you made fun of his obsession with monochromatic outfits, teased him for being “too cool,” and somehow, you always knew how to make him laugh—even when he didn’t want to.

“so, what do you think?” you asked one day, holding up a floral skirt and a neon sweater.

sunghoon frowned. “i think i need a pair of sunglasses just to look at it.”

you gasped dramatically, clutching the clothes to your chest. “you wound me, park sunghoon.”

he smirked, throwing a pillow at you.

but beneath your teasing and chaotic energy, you had a way of grounding him.

it hit him hardest one night at a party, when someone made a rude comment about your body. before you could react, sunghoon was in front of you, his icy glare fixed on the guy.

“say that again,” he said, his voice low and dangerous.

the guy stammered, trying to backtrack, but sunghoon didn’t let him off easy.

as soon as the guy walked away, you touched his arm gently. “hoon, you didn’t have to do that.”

he turned to you, his gaze softening instantly. “yes, i did.”

later that night, as you sat beside him on your couch, he turned to you. “don’t ever let anyone make you feel less than perfect.”

your eyes softened, and for once, you didn’t have a teasing reply.

────── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──────

it was late, and the two of you were lying on the living room floor, staring at the ceiling.

“hoon?”

“hm?”

“you’re staring at me again.”

he blinked, realizing he’d been caught.

“you just… you’re hard to look away from,” he said softly.

you snorted. “was that supposed to be smooth?”

he rolled his eyes. “i’m being serious.”

“oh, okay. carry on.”

he sighed, propping himself up on one elbow to look at you properly. “you’re not like anyone I’ve ever met.”

“yeah, we’ve established that. i’m chaotic and messy and all kinds of amazing.”

“you are,” he said, his voice quieter now. “you make me feel things i didn’t think i could feel. like… like it’s okay to be a little messy. like it’s okay to not have everything figured out.”

your eyes widened slightly, and he looked away, suddenly shy.

“you make me laugh, even when i don’t want to. you make me want to try things i’d never do otherwise. and you’re…” he trailed off, running a hand through his hair.

“hoon,” you interrupted, sitting up. “i’m dumb. please just say it.”

he let out a small laugh, shaking his head. “you’re impossible.”

“and yet, here you are. confessing your undying love for me.”

he smiled, soft and fond. “yeah, i guess i am.”

you grinned, leaning closer. “so say it properly.”

sunghoon reached out, tucking a curl behind your ear. his fingers lingered against your cheek, and his voice dropped to a whisper.

“i’m in love with you,” he said, the words carrying more weight than you expected. “every chaotic, mismatched, unpredictable part of you. i don’t want to imagine my life without you in it.”

you blinked, your heart skipping a beat.

“see?” you finally said, your voice wobbly but teasing. “was that so hard?”

he laughed softly, pulling you into his arms. “you’re lucky you’re cute.”

“i know,” you murmured against his chest, your smile wide.

and for the first time, park sunghoon felt like he was exactly where he was meant to be.

© all rights reserved | hsnlv 2024

[bingbongsupremacy]

Surprise Boyfriend

Pairing: Eddie Munson x Plus size reader

Warning: Cursing, mentions that reader is plus size but doesn't emphasises, insecurities

Summary: You're in love with Eddie but he doesn't like you back. Right? You're just friends. That's why it's so surprising when he asks to meet your parents.

*Not Proof Read*

□□□□□□□□

I’m not sure when things started to change between Eddie and me. We've been friends for a while, hanging out after school, talking about everything from Dungeons & Dragons to heavy metal. We joke around, complain about the crazy world around us, and escape to our own little bubble where things just make sense. But lately? It feels different.

Eddie’s always been a little flirty with me. It's just his nature. He’s got that sarcastic charm that comes with being an all-around badass—a wild, untamed guy that everyone notices. His long, messy hair, the leather jacket he always wears, his constant rock ‘n’ roll vibe, and, of course, the undeniable smirk that’s always on his face. I never really thought much of it. We’re friends. He’s just Eddie being Eddie. But now? I’m starting to wonder if there’s more to it.

The way he looks at me sometimes. The way his arm casually drapes around my shoulders when we sit close. The way he holds my hand, like it’s something natural, like we’ve been doing it forever.

But then I remember—Eddie’s the kind of guy who’s into wild, pretty girls. Not… well, not me. I’m not thin, I’m not what everyone expects. I’ve got extra weight, and I always feel like I’m the last person someone like Eddie would ever want to date. He’s got a reputation to uphold, after all, and I’m just his friend. Nothing more.

It’s a Saturday, and we’re lying on Eddie’s bed again, watching one of those cheesy 80s slasher flicks. We’ve been here for hours, the room filled with the scent of old pizza and the faint smell of smoke from the joint we shared earlier. Eddie’s strumming his guitar quietly in the corner, the soft music blending with the sounds of the TV. He’s so comfortable here, and for the first time in a long while, I feel relaxed too.

"So..." Eddie glances over at me, his eyes mischievous. “When am I gonna meet your parents?”

My heart skips a beat, and I turn to face him, unsure of what he’s getting at. “What?” I ask, the word coming out a little more confused than I intended.

“You know,” he says, still grinning. “I feel like I’ve spent enough time with you, your friends, and your—well, your extended family. What about the folks? When do I get to meet them?”

I blink, unsure if he’s joking or being serious. “Eddie, what the hell? Why would you need to meet my parents?”

He sits up, running a hand through his messy hair, his expression turning slightly more serious, but there’s still a playful edge to it. “Because, Y/N, I’m your boyfriend.”

I laugh a little, but then I catch the look in his eyes. He’s not joking. Or at least, he doesn’t seem to think he’s joking. My breath catches in my throat. “Boyfriend?” I repeat, barely able to hide the confusion in my voice.

Eddie chuckles softly, shaking his head. “Y/N, come on. We’ve been going on dates for months. I even took you to that picnic last weekend, remember? We smoked a little weed, and I bought you dinner afterward. That’s a date, sweetheart. Plus I invite you to my shows and then dinner afterward. I consider that a date.”

I swallow hard. Oh god. I didn’t realize that’s what that was. I thought we were just hanging out, just… being us. I mean, Eddie’s invited people to see his band before, so I just assumed this was another one of those things. He’s always friendly to everyone. And yeah, we’ve shared some quiet moments together, but I never thought it meant what he clearly thinks it does.

“But you invite everyone to your shows, Eddie,” I say, trying to explain myself, my voice trembling a little. “I thought you were just being nice, like you always are. Like, friendly Eddie.”

He narrows his eyes at me, leaning in a little closer. “I’m always nice, sure. But I don't pay for everyone's dinner. Being nice isn't the same thing as asking someone on a date, is it?” He gives me a pointed look, clearly a little frustrated.

I chew on my lip, still unsure of what I’m missing. “I don’t know, Eddie,” I say quietly. “I just thought… we were friends.”

He grins, his usual cocky charm returning. “I thought we were more than that. I mean, come on. We’ve been holding hands, sharing this bed, watching movies together. You’re practically my girlfriend without all the labels.”

I feel a warmth spread across my cheeks as I glance down at my hands. He’s right—we’ve been close. Really close. But I never thought of it in those terms. I’m not used to being the girl who gets that kind of attention. Especially not from someone like Eddie.

“I don’t know what to say,” I whisper. “I didn’t realize you felt that way. I didn’t think you wanted to be with me.”

Eddie gently takes my hand, squeezing it softly. “Why wouldn’t I want to be with you? You’re incredible. You’ve been there for me, Y/N. You come to all my shows, you cheer me on like you’re my biggest fan. You support me—like a girlfriend would. I thought you knew.”

I feel my heart pounding in my chest. Does he really feel that way about me?

The weight of his words settles on me, and I begin to understand. He’s been there for me too, in his own way. He’s always included me, always been there to make me laugh, always made sure I felt important. I start to realize that maybe I’ve been blind to what’s been right in front of me this whole time.

“We’ve been hanging out so much,” I say, a little embarrassed, “I just thought it was normal. I mean, I never thought you were asking me out. I thought you were just… being Eddie.”

Eddie smiles, the tenderness in his eyes making my chest tighten. “I get it,” he says. “But I’ve been asking you out, Y/N. We’ve been going on dates. I don’t do this with anyone else, you know. It’s always been you.”

I nod, trying to process everything. The hand-holding, the moments when he pulls me closer when we’re sitting next to each other, the way he makes sure I’m always part of whatever he’s doing. He’s been showing me, in his own way, that he cares.

“You’re right,” I whisper, my voice barely audible. “I just… I didn’t know. I didn’t realize.”

Eddie brushes a lock of hair behind my ear, his touch gentle, and I can’t help but melt into it. “Well, now you do,” he says softly. “And I’m not going anywhere.”

I smile, feeling something shift between us. Maybe I’ve been blind to it all along. Maybe I was the one who didn’t see what was right there in front of me. But now I do. And somehow, knowing that Eddie really does want to be with me makes everything feel right.

As Eddie leans back, his arm sliding across my shoulders, I feel like maybe—just maybe—I’m finally seeing things clearly. And I can’t help but wonder what the next step for us is.

[cheynovak]

Shadows and Songs 2

Azriel x Y/N female Illyrian

Summary: Azriel saved Y/N. Her wings where taken from her. She barely survived, the only thing she remembers during recovering is hearing a voice sing.

Warnings: Nothing explicit, build up tension, fight, anger, ...

English isn't my first language.

Please do not copy my work. Likes, reblogs and comments are welcome.

The days that followed were quiet, but not in the way they’d been when I first came to the House of Wind. Back then, the silence had been suffocating—too thick to breathe through, heavy with memories I wanted to escape. Now, it was… strange.

The inner circle seemed to envelop me almost overnight. Whether it was pity or something else, I didn’t know. Rhysand especially seemed determined to make me feel like I belonged. He’d offered me a job, his tone so charming it nearly had me agreeing on instinct. But I’d declined, respectfully but firmly. A job meant staying close, and I couldn’t. Not with Azriel still looming in the shadows of my mind.

Still, I accepted Rhysand’s offer for a small rental apartment on the outskirts of Velaris. It was cozy, not far from the river. Small enough to feel manageable, and with just enough space to let me breathe on my own. Moving there meant I wouldn’t have to see Azriel anymore—not by chance, not in passing, not in the ways that tied me up in knots.

I thought about telling Rhys the truth of why I needed to move, why staying wasn’t an option. But when his easy grin softened into something warm and understanding, I decided not to explain. Maybe he knew anyway. Maybe all of them knew.

***

In the weeks that followed, I adjusted to my new normal. Mor dragged me into town a handful of times, her unyielding enthusiasm pulling me along even when I resisted. Amren stopped by the apartment once, bringing a book I hadn’t asked for but found myself engrossed in that same night.

Cassian, dropped by regularly, he helped me learning how to walk properly, with an insufferable grin and stories that always left me laughing despite feeling bad. Losing my wings meant also losing my balance.

But he also to talked about Nesta. The way he spoke about the older sister made my heart warm. That man was in deep and I was all for it!

He sounded like my brother, and I started to feel at ease with him around. Just like my brother he didn't need much from me to understand how I felt and what I needed to cheer me up.

Feyre, even convinced me to sit by the river with her one afternoon, painting the rolling hills beyond while I listened to the hum of Velaris around us.

Well, she painted I watched quietly.

They’d all seemed to adopt me in their own ways, the warmth of their camaraderie spilling into the cracks I’d been hiding in. For once, it didn’t feel suffocating to let someone in.

But Azriel?

He didn’t come.

At least, not directly.

I could feel him lingering—watching from a distance even when I couldn’t see him. Sometimes it was a shadow I swore moved unnaturally as I walked through the city.

A pull in my chest while I lay in bed at night, a push whenever I was insecure about going outside. An emotion that wasn't mine popped up when I was alone.

Or the faint feeling of being watched just before I looked over my shoulder. He wasn’t there in person, but I wasn’t free of him either.

He didn’t say a word after the night he’d rejected me, though. Didn’t explain, didn’t try to mend the rift growing between us. And I didn’t ask.

Distance, I told myself, was for the best. Yet no amount of distance dulled the memory of that kiss, the ghost of his touch on my skin.

Some nights, I found myself sitting on the edge of the bed, staring into nothingness as my mind replayed the way he’d kissed me—soft at first, then desperate, like I was the air he needed to breathe.

And the way he’d pulled back. Shut me out.

“You’re hurt.”

“I can’t take advantage of you.”

The words played on an endless loop, twisting into something bitter no matter how hard I tried to let them go.

Azriel didn’t see me as more than broken, and I couldn’t stop wishing he did.

***

The knock at my door startled me, sharp against the quiet of my small apartment. I glanced at the clock, sighing. It was early—too early. My immediate thought was that Cassian had come to drag me to some ridiculous training session with Nesta and her friends.

Rubbing at my eyes, I pulled the door open, preparing a playful excuse to avoid the day. But the words died on my tongue as I saw who it was.

Azriel.

His presence filled the small hallway like a shadow curling at the edges of the room. He wasn’t armored like he usually was for his missions. Instead, he wore a simple shirt and dark pants that did nothing to downplay his quiet strength. His wings were tucked behind him, the faint light from outside framing him in a way that made me momentarily forget how to speak.

“Hi,” he said softly, his voice low and even, yet there was a slight hesitation there.

I froze, swallowing hard, trying to muster a response. Anything. But his gaze held mine, the weight of it making the words stick in my throat.

After what felt like an eternity, Azriel cleared his throat and spoke again, “It’s the Winter Solstice.” His tone was gentle, like he was testing how I might react. “I came to… invite you to join us. At the House of Wind.”

I blinked at him, and he quickly added, “Rhys is already half-expecting you.”

The mention of Rhysand made the offer feel less intimidating, like there was no way I could refuse even if every nerve in my body screamed to keep my distance.

Azriel waited, his expression unreadable except for the faintest flicker of unease in his hazel eyes. As though he didn’t know whether I’d slam the door in his face.

“I… okay,” I finally said, stumbling over the single word. “I’ll come.”

His shoulders seemed to relax just slightly, a subtle shift most people might not even notice. “Good,” he said after a beat. “We’ll have dinner, with friends."

He nodded once, almost as if reassuring himself. And without another word, he turned and left, disappearing down the stairs before I could respond or second-guess my agreement.

I closed the door, pressing my back against it, my heart racing.

Azriel. Inviting me.

Just the memory of his eyes on mine—soft and distant but unmistakably steady—left me mesmerized. Solstice at the House of Wind.

This was going to be… complicated.

***

Dinner at the House of Wind was far more tense than I could have ever imagined.

The Inner Circle was warm and welcoming, laughing and teasing over wine and a beautifully prepared feast. But beneath the surface, tension churned—its source unmistakable to anyone paying attention.

My gaze flickered to Elain, Feyre’s sister, who sat poised and ethereal, the picture of soft beauty. Her eyes, however, were daggers as they locked on another female at the table. Gwyn.

Gwyn had just thanked Azriel for her Solstice gift, her fingers brushing the delicate jewel hanging at her neck. It caught the light, shimmering beautifully, though not nearly as brightly as the gratitude in her smile.

Elain didn’t share that gratitude.

Her posture stiffened, her lips tightening just enough to make her disapproval clear. She hadn’t even tried to mask her reaction, the jealousy rolling off her in subtle, tense waves.

Azriel, meanwhile, seemed caught between them, his hazel eyes flickering nervously to Elain as though bracing for whatever venom she might spill.

And it was then, watching that exchange, that it all hit me.

He was in love. Or at least it was complicated. No matter the moments we’d shared, no matter the way my heart pounded every time I was near him, Azriel already had two stunningly beautiful women vying for his attention. Both of them more suitable, more radiant, more... everything I wasn’t.

I wasn’t a fool. I didn’t belong in this game, not with Elain looking like she belonged in a painting and Gwyn glowing with confidence and kindness. Showing up every morning training with them, showing him what she's worth.

The meal continued, but the knot in my chest only grew tighter. Every time Gwyn glanced at Azriel with a soft smile or Elain shot him a look of thinly veiled hurt, my stomach churned.

Eventually, the tension in the room became suffocating.

I set my wine glass down carefully, the noise of it meeting the table louder than I’d intended. All eyes flicked to me as I stood, smoothing the skirt of my dress. “Cassian,” I said, my tone steady despite the emotions warring inside me, “would you mind flying me back down? I think I’ve had enough for tonight.”

Cassian frowned slightly, the humor slipping from his expression, but before he could answer, Azriel stood abruptly. “I’ll do it.”

I turned to face him, a smirk playing on my lips—one laced with bitterness I couldn’t fully hide. “Sorry, Azriel,” I said, “but it seems you invited a few too many girlfriends tonight, I think your occupied.”

My words landed like a slap.

The entire table froze, and for a moment, the only sound was the crackling fire behind us.

And then Elain spoke.

Her voice was sweet, but the bite underneath it was impossible to miss. “Her too?"she asked sharply, her gaze narrowing at me. “What, you first try Mor then me, Gwyn and now her, placing a bet on more than one horse, are you?”

The weight of the room shifted as everyone turned their attention to her. "Trust me he's not interested in me." I spat out. "He made that very clear."

Azriel looked as though we'd struck him. His jaw tightened as he stared at her, shadows flickering darkly around his feet. His voice, when he finally spoke, was low and tightly controlled. “You handed me the necklace back, Elain. That was a clear sign to me ."

It took a moment for her to respond, but the hurt simmering in her eyes didn’t waver. “And you immediately ran to someone else?”

Gwyn, sitting on the other side of Azriel, looked stunned—her hand hovering over the jewel at her neck, her cheeks coloring with embarrassment.

Gwyn said, her voice soft but firm. “I didn’t even know—”

I didn’t wait for her to finish.

“Cassian?” I asked again, pulling everyone’s attention back to me as I ignored the thick, stifling tension brewing at the table. I wasn’t part of this, didn’t want to be part of it. “Please?”

Cassian shot Azriel a curious glance, his hazel eyes narrowing as though weighing some unspoken argument, but when Azriel said nothing, Cassian nodded once. “Of course.”

Without another word, I turned on my heel and strode toward the door, willing myself not to look back.

The burn of humiliation followed me as I left, but I didn’t falter. I didn’t dare let them see how much it hurt—how small I’d felt sitting at that table, surrounded by people who saw each other but somehow never truly saw me.

And yet… as Cassian led me toward the balcony, I felt the faint, familiar brush of shadows curling near my feet.

“Y/N, don’t go.”

Azriel’s voice cut through the cool night air like a blade, sharp and desperate.

I froze mid-step on the balcony, Cassian stopping beside me. I glanced at him, his brow raised as he looked between me and Azriel. He seemed torn between stepping aside and staying to protect me from whatever this was.

“Give us a moment?” Azriel asked, though his tone was more of a command than a question.

Cassian looked to me, silently asking for reassurance. I gave him a small nod, forcing down the lump rising in my throat. Without a word, Cassian stepped back inside, leaving Azriel and me alone in the moonlit quiet.

Azriel turned to me, his wings flexing slightly as though he couldn’t quite settle. He stepped closer, his eyes scanning me with an intensity that left me breathless. “How is your back?” he asked softly.

My anger flared.

“Really!? That’s what you have to say to me?” I snapped, my voice rising. “How’s your back?” I gave a bitter laugh, stepping closer and glaring up at him

"After everything. Y-you turned me down, Azriel. You acted like I didn’t matter. And yet you’ve been spying on me, haven’t you? You damn well know how my back is! It's horrible, I can't proper walk, I miss flying, there are days I try to walk around my tiny apartment afraid I bump then into my furniture."

"Other days I wish you just left me there."

"You would have died!" He snapped at me.

"Good! Then I wouldn't have been such an inconvenience to you!"

Frustration bubbled over, and I shoved his chest. It was like hitting a brick wall, my push barely moving him as I stumbled back from the force of my own anger.

"Well, it's you who made a fool out of me in there." His expression didn’t waver, though his jaw tightened. “I don’t know what you think there is between us,” he said quietly, shadows shifting at his feet, “but it’s just you… falling for the guy who saved you.”

“No!” I shouted, my hands trembling as I clenched them into fists. “I know what there is, Azriel! You’re just too damn afraid to admit it!”

He didn’t move, his hazel eyes locked on mine, his expression inscrutable. But he was listening—I could see it in the way his shadows stilled, the way his wings tightened against his back.

I stepped closer, my chest heaving with each breath. “I feel you when you’re near,” I said, my voice shaking but firm. “Even when I can’t see you, I feel the pull. And I know you feel mine, too. I see it in the way you watch me. I feel it in every step you take toward me only to stop yourself before you cross some line you made up.”

Azriel’s gaze flickered to my lips for the barest moment before he caught himself. "That's not..."

“You’re just too scared to admit it,” I continued, my voice softer but no less raw. We were toe to toe now, the air between us crackling like lightning. “And you know what, that’s fine, Azriel. You don’t have to accept it. But don’t you dare deny it. We’re ma…”

The words caught in my throat, but before I could finish the sentence, two strong hands wrapped around my cheeks.

Azriel pulled me against him with a force that knocked the breath from my lungs, and his lips crashed down on mine.

It wasn’t soft, wasn’t tentative—it was full of unspoken words, of frustration and longing. His hands anchored me to him, one sliding up to tangle in my hair as if I might vanish if he didn’t hold on tightly enough.

I melted into him, every thought, every doubt evaporating under the weight of his kiss. The world around us blurred until there was nothing but him—his touch, his lips, but the raw intensity of the moment was quickly over shadowed by my pride and anger.

The anger churned hot in my veins as I tilted my head back and slammed it forward, cracking my forehead against Azriel’s nose. The resounding *crack* echoed in the air, and Azriel stumbled back, a startled shout escaping him.

“Fuck!" he hissed, his hand flying to his face. He pressed against his nose, wincing as he pushed it back into place, his glare sharp enough to cut. “Why the hell did you do that?”

I ignored him completely. My eyes locked onto Cassian, who stood near the doorway, accompanied by the rest of the guests, his brows lifted in stunned amusement. “Listen, Cassian,” I ground out, “if you don’t take me down right now—”

“No!” Azriel roared behind me, his shadows swirling angrily at his feet. “You stay right here, we're not done!”

I didn’t even flinch at his command. I kept my focus on Cassian, who looked at me with something close to apology and pity. “Sorry, Y/N,” he said, hands raised in surrender. “He’s still my brother. Can’t interfere.”

My lips twitched in irritation as I snapped, “Fine! I’ll take the fucking stairs."

I stormed toward the staircase, but before I could so much as take two steps, strong hands grabbed me by the waist.

“What the hell, Azriel?” I shrieked as he lifted me clear off the ground and tossed me gently back onto the balcony.

“You’re not walking down those stairs in this state, you can't even walk them when you're calm and you know it!” he muttered, his voice clipped. “I’ll take you home—once you cool down.”

"C-cool down?!" I repeated, my voice going shrill as I whirled to face him.

Behind Azriel, Rhysand let out a low whistle, his violet eyes sparkling with amusement. “Oh-oh…” he murmured, clearly entertained. “Azriel, I think you forget who you’re dealing with here. She’s still Illyrian, you know.” Feyre bumped her elbow in his side, mouthing "not helping!"

Cassian laughed, crossing his arms as he leaned against the doorframe. “Yeah, Az, even I know better than to tell a female to ‘cool off.’”

Azriel’s lips twitched, as though suppressing the urge to snap back at them, but his gaze stayed focused on me. He shifted slightly, trying to block my path, but I wasn’t having it.

“Move,” I ordered, pushing past him toward the stairs again. But before I could make it even a single step this time, he was faster.

Azriel’s arms scooped me up in one swift motion, his wings flaring wide as he stepped off the balcony and into the open sky.

I didn’t have time to protest before we were airborne, my apartment coming into view below us. My anger surged, words tumbling from my mouth without thought. “Put me down, Azriel! What the hell do you think you’re doing?”

“Making sure you get home in one piece,” he said calmly, though I could feel the tension radiating off him in waves.

“By manhandling me?” I snapped, my fists pounding against his chest in frustration. “You don’t get to decide how I leave, or when, or who takes me home—”

“Yes, I do,” he interrupted firmly, his voice low but unwavering. “When you’re so mad you can barely think straight, and when the stairs would leave you pacing for hours, yes, I do.”

"I can barely think straight!? You kissed me while all your girlfriends are in the other room." But as much as I hated to admit it, some small, quiet part of me knew he wasn’t entirely wrong. I still wasn't fully recovered.

Still, I glared up at him. “You’re infuriating.”

Azriel didn’t respond, his mouth twitching as though holding back a smile. The tension between us hung heavy in the air as he descended, landing softly in front of my apartment. Without a word, he set me down on my feet, steadying me with a hand on my arm.

But he didn’t pull back immediately. Instead, he held me there, his gaze lingering on my face, searching for… something.

My breath hitched at the weight of those words. I should have said it. Should have walked into my apartment and slammed the door in his face.

But I couldn’t. He walked me back inside and we stood in front of my door. Waiting for one of us to say something... anything.

--

Taglist:

@mich0731 @winchesterwild78 @paintedbyshadows @lilah-asteria @nancymcl @hobby27 @kindollss @shadysoulangel @tele86

[superbat-lmao]

Scene 6

“You want me to join you?”

”What? No, we’re just offering back up.”

”We?”

”Me and an associate.”

”Why isn’t your associate here?”

”He prefers anonymity. Also, he won the draw last time so he let me have this one.”

”You bet on being the one to approach me?”

”The both of you, yes.”

”Why?”

”Have you spoken to Harley recently?”

”That was him?”

”Yes.”

”Not very anonymous.”

”Yes, well, sometimes he dislikes being cooped up and likes to stretch his legs. Also, that particular brand of crazy is up his alley.”

”And my brand is up yours?”

”In a manor of speaking. I was dunked in a lazarus pit. Something I’d thank you not to share.”

”I don’t know what that is.”

”Something that heightens your emotions as the cost of healing you. It can be volatile. Uncontrollable.”

”You think I need to be controlled?”

”No. But it’s the closest I’ll be to being different people.”

”I don’t want to talk about him.”

”Okay.”

”So you get angry.”

”I tried to kill my father and brother after training with assassins.”

”But they’re still alive?”

”Changed my mind.”

”Harley said your friend knew things he shouldn’t and stabbed himself with a fork.”

”Ah. Well, like I said, his particular brand of crazy is different from mine. I can call him if there’s specific intel or details about yourself you’d like to hear. I’m not stabbing myself though.”

”Why approach me like this?”

”Well, we have a mutual friend that I kinda owe a favor. Of a sort.”

”And helping me would be that favor?”

”Not exactly. He doesn’t know how to help you. That’s his problem, thinking there something he can do. When I came back from my training, there wouldn’t have been anything my father could have done. Not the way he was thinking. Tried to have me locked up at one point, but that doesn’t help either.”

”I still don’t know what you want.”

”I want you, either of you, to call me. If you need something. Intel, guns, lunch, a hit, opposing arguments, book recommendations.”

”How does this benefit you?”

”It doesn’t. But I would be willing to try to understand. That’s it.”

”Because of a mutual friend.”

”Because I have killed people. Because I have changed my mind about killing other people. Because some days all I see is green and when I wake up I’ve shredded the couch cushions in half or shattered a counter top. And there isn’t much anyone can do about it. Because when I came back from my training, people tried to convince me there was something wrong with me, but I was just different. I wasn’t who they remembered and I could never be him again. I crossed all their lines. And some of my own. I didn’t know how to stop or if I wanted to. And I didn’t want to, but I had to learn how to deal with it all. And it sucked. There was something wrong with me, but not in the way they thought.”

”Are you sure you won’t change your mind about the fork?”

”People still care about you, Harvey. They could care about him too, but they don’t know how. They are going to make so many mistakes before they figure it out.”

”You’re getting the check.”

”Sure. If you’re really so upset about it I’ll flip you about the fork thing.”

A startled laugh.

”Usually people are too scared to joke about that.”

”Their loss.”

There’s a glint of metal and the clap of a hand.

”Your lucky day.”

”I’ll drop by next week with some intel.”

”I’ll bring a fork.”

Outtakes below!

“I’ll never live that down, huh?”

“Not in this universe you won’t.”

“Seriously though, offering the coin flip?”

“He has his coping mechanisms and I had mine. Could be worse.”

“Yeah could be an adult built like a linebacker dressed up in the Robin suit, scaly panties and all.”

Jason wraps his arm around Tim’s shoulders, weathers the attempts to remove it, and gives him a noogie so hard the kid’s head might bruise.

“Oh fuck you, if I’d seriously been trying to kill you, you’d be dead.”

“Uh huh, look as fun as it is reminiscing about you beating me up, I’ve got other things to do.”

“Like putting a spoon through your hand?”

“Oh shut up.”

Tim and Jason AU

Scene 1

Jason makes it look like he’s doing something shady on a nearby roof, something that Tim thinks the Bats would want to hear about. And only Tim notices. He wants to be useful.

He starts to follow Jason and there are some mechanical closets on the top of the roof, and Jason is being very obvious in his direction, so when Tim turns a corner he isn’t expecting Jason to be behind him suddenly.

He’s not dressed in any sort of identifiable style, definitely not League or gang affiliated and not a mask. Tim doesn’t scream and Jason picks him up by his jacket and shakes him in minor frustration.

“I swear you had better instincts than this. Seriously kid, tell me you’re not this reckless. I’m surprised the Bats haven’t already had to clean you off pavement.”

“What are you doing up here?”

“Bzzt, wrong question. Actually, no questions, you shouldn’t be up here and following a shady guy in the dark.”

“What’s the right question?”

“What am I gonna do with you?”

Tim freezes, maybe sinking in a bit how stupid that was but the guys seems to be asking himself more than telling Tim that was the question.

“That’s the right question?”

“What? Yes, if your cover’s blown it’s important to assess how you’ll be appraised and know what the person will do with you. Also called a secondary cover or ploy. Always make sure you have a plausible reason for where being somewhere you shouldn’t be. And if you can’t, have a quick escape.”

“Why would you tell me that?”

“Second tip kid, the questions you ask a suspect inform on what information you have. Don’t get too close to the topic you’re most interested in or you’ll give yourself away.”

“A suspect?”

“How else would you describe me?”

The guy’s grip changes and Tim feels something sharp prick his neck. He feels true panic and hears vaguely, “control your response next time because adrenaline makes your heart spread a sedative in your blood stream faster if you’re panicked. You’ll thank me later, kid.”

When Tim wakes up, it’s to two gloved fingers pressed beneath his jaw. Checking his pulse He can’t get his eyes open yet, but he can hear voices.

(Jason tied Tim up, lit the batsignal, and left a flash drive pinned to Tim’s chest. It explains his home situation, how long he’s been following the Bats, and that he knows their identities.)

*Scenes from a fic I’ll probably never write. Mostly just notes app things. Outtakes below the cut.

“Seriously?! The Batsignal?!

“It was that or leave you in the cave for Alfred, and the Batsignal was less confrontational.”

“And lazy, what, you couldn’t wipe the feed?”

“I can wipe the batcomputer faster than you, I’ve been hiding shit from Bruce since before you were in spandex. But tipping our hand that early? You’re not usually this stupid, Timmy.”

“Just shocked by your self control by not picking the most nuclear option.”

“The most nuclear option would have been holding you hostage and having a good ol’ fashioned stand off with the Bat. Maybe mail him your spleen as motivation.”

“Fuck you. I already took care of Ra’s - he’ll keep his spleen this time.”

“Not if I have anything to say about it.”

[laurrelise]

picture this: it’s your second week at the commission. your boss is a fucking fish. your coworkers are way too friendly. your higher-ups’ biggest concern is a random ex-employee who you’ve never met, her next being her fashion game. and her daughter is just running around wreaking absolute havoc.

and then one day the meanest 13-year old you’ve ever seen in your life walks in, finishes his case in 10 minutes, and immediately after gets recognized as the best worker in the room full of adults.

im quitting on the spot wbu

[the-darkestminds]

why do you insist that the men of acotar are all gay lol

HAHA bc im being silly but I shall indulge you anon.

okay there's no explicit writing on the page that states these characters are Gay but there are a few curious things sjm included that give me pause (don't take this post too seriously lmao):

-we learn that the bat boys used to have sex with females at the same time, in the same room as each other. so they have all seen each other naked and erect. do with that what you will.

-they hang out in the steam shower together naked. apparently this is a thing straight men do in real life too because of sports or something. idk. but if you're naked with another man, surely the thought has crossed your mind at least once? perchance? ill let you ponder that. at the very least they are looking at each other's junk trying to decide whose is the biggest. (I am a woman so idk i'm just making this up as I go).

-cassian woke up one solstice completely naked with nothing but a wig on. he had been partying with rhys and azriel. there were no females around. this gives me pause. sir, why are you naked?

-they are OLD AS FUKKKK yo come on they must get bored. nothing can phase you after 500+ years on earth. imagine how desensitized they must get. like surely they would do it just to see what all the fuss is about.

-cassian was jealous when azriel's full attention was no longer on him. interesting.......

-azriel whispering in eris's ear. PLSSS ik he said something dirty. anon is it not so much more fun to think he was like "next time choke on my cock" instead of "I am going to skin you alive"? come on. BORING. no more tired death threats!! I need more depth to this feud. get over yourself boo. Ik you liked eris underneath you. who wouldn't

-we learn that rhys apparently taught tamlin how to bed females. how? LOL I know rhys was like "here tamlin let me show you what females like in bed" and took off all of his clothes.

[softdreamlesssleep]

God, "I missed you" sex is the best

[queen0fm0nsterz]

Reading my fave thin man and lady fic. Kicking my feet a lot because tbh. Sometimes a sad man really is just a weird woman's science project in a way that is so homoerotic

[longagoitwastuesday]

Going through the Utahim.e tag had me checking several times if at some point I had clicked on the G.ojo/Utahim.e one instead

[lazaruspiss]

wait ok im sorry for still talking but its funny this time i promise

[girlcrushau]

[imthatwannabeauthor]

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[bangcakes]

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[neverendingford]

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