#so I made it clear she could take her time

[saymio]

Silent Obsession

Pairing: Hwang In-ho (the front man) x Fem!reader

Summary: your husband was missing, and all you did for days was stay at home crying your eyes out...waiting for your dearest husband to come home. this was until inho had decided to come give you a little visit while you were all alone and vulnerable.

Warning: dead dove: do not eat, noncon, degradation, light bdsm, manipulation, In-ho is obsessed with you, rough sex, mentioned age gap (20 years), cheating (not rlly), there might be more but I'm too lazy to write it.

A/N: not proof read. this takes place during s1. (most/all of the beginning contains junho x reader content)

7.2k Words

...

it was 2015, just a few days ago your boyfriend junho had invited you to meet his family on the day of his brothers birthday. his brother was turning 40 and they were hosting a small party, just a few people... and your boyfriend thought this would be a great time to invite you to meet his mom and brother. he was ecstatic at the thought, he really wanted his family to get to know you since last year he had met yours. and he was really serious about you... but it would be an understatement to say you were nervous. hell, you were scared. you wanted to leave a good impression on his family, this was the man you wanted to marry. if his mom didnt approve of you what could you say? she was wrong? that her opinion didn't matter? these thoughts swarmed your head for hours every day....

junho was driving the two of you from your small shared apartment to his moms place. you were sitting in the passenger seat as you stared out the window of the car, you were shaking... not from the cold but from the anxiousness you were brimming with. your fingers tapped against the interior of the car, your nails making a clicking sound every time they touched the material. "are you cold y/n? I told you itd be cold today..you should've worn a bigger jacket" junho glanced at you for a second before staring back at the road and sighing. he hated when this happened, when youd be so insistent in not 'ruining' your outfit that you wouldn't pay attention to whether you'd be cold or not. this always happens! ..but he always wears a jacket for you. because he knows you'll end up shivering from the cold gusts of wind and he cant stand the thought of you suffering from the freezing temperatures. you let out a small chuckle, it was barely over a whisper but junho heard you loud and clear. "why're you laughing.." he frowned a little, not because he's upset or mad at you but just because you werent taking the situation that seriously. "what if you catch a cold? at least think about me when you dress this way..you know I hate when you're in pain.." the last part of his sentence was soft and quiet, as if he was murmuring to himself..making sure you wouldn't hear him. "stop worrying so much babe...I'm not cold or anything.. just a little jittery, its my first time meeting your family after all." you giggled at his genuine worry for you, he was such a drama queen. making these small actions seem so much more serious then they were..but its something that made you love junho. how kind and protecting he was of the people he cared about. "nervous? you don't have to be nervous y/n...I'm sure they'll love you." junho's right hand made its way to your left hand. holding it tight before giving you a soft gentle smile. his ability to sooth you with just his smile had to be studied, he truly was an angel on earth to you, like he had a halo on his head 24/7. you leaned forward a little and left a quick peck on his cheek, quickly leaning back down to your seat and looking away from him. but at the corner of junhos eyes he could see how red you've gotten...he thought it was adorable. how the two of youve been dating for 2 years but you still got flustered over small kisses. you were so innocent and kind, the exact woman he needed in his life...

but little did junho know, he was right. his family did love you..especially his brother.

you had arrived at his mothers house, .. your nerves were spiking, how should you introduce yourself? what if the cake you made was still raw? what if inho doesn't like his present? these thoughts ran through your head as you two waited for someone to open the door. your finger nails tapping against the box the cake you had made was in. the sound deafening you as you just wanted the damn door to open already. you really just hoped youd make a good impression... after what felt like an eternity the door opened, behind to door revealed the birthday boy himself, Hwang In-ho. junho just shook his hand before you bowed at him slightly before shaking his hand and introducing himself briefly. "happy birthday In-ho, my names y/n" In-ho just nodded coldly at you, if the harsh winds outside didn't freeze you his stares did. he stepped aside, allowing the two of you in. he lead the both of you up the apartment complex stairs, your heels making a loud click sound echo though the staircase with every step you took. after only a bit of walking up stairs you had reached the door to where the party was being hosted.. . . when junho had told you itd be a 'party' you expected a family gathering with like 15 people, but upon arrival you quickly realized..it was truly just him, his brother and mom celebrating inho's birthday today. you were pleasantly surprised, you hated large groups of people..it made you skittish and always super nervous. so just 3 other people being there calmed your nerves down, alot. the apartment was small and cozy, very homey and nice. his mother had made a mini feast with delicious foods and decorated the place with a few balloons and banners. it was a seemingly wholesome sight of a mother doing something nice for her sons special day, it made your heart warm up inside your chest as you took a seat at the table. "hi honey, what's your name?" junho's mother grabbed one of your hands, cupping it with the both of hers. you felt yourself blush and smile, you had barely even been inside yet his mother was being so kind already. her soft gentle voice, and kind soft eyes. it was everything that's junho was. "y/n, what about you miss?" you were trying your best to be as polite as possible, you didn't want to tip her off and cause her to hate you.. but you felt kind of uncomfortable.. inho..he was staring at you alot. and it was like he wasnt trying to hide it, his dark eyes piecing into your soul. as if he were looking for the innocence inside of you... to take it away from you. the entire day just led to you getting more and more uncomfortable. you weren't able to stare into his eyes because you felt if you did he would just jump onto you not giving a shit about his mother and brother being there too. "y/n, what would you say if your favorite thing about junho?" inho spoke, his deep voice sent uncomfortable shivers down your spine.. this entire atmosphere..it was odd. but it was like only you caught onto it. you stared at inho before turning to junho...he was blushing. he tried keeping a stoic face but you could tell he was getting flustered before you even spoke. his ears tinted in a light pink an so was his neck. "ah.. well his kindness..I think its the main reason I fell in love...he's very kind and soft spoken to people. at least until they do something wrong..but either way he's an angel." a gentle smile took over your face, you stared at junho and then at inho to continue your sentence..it was obvious you were head over heels for this man.. "he's just a very likable man." inho smiled at you, not speaking a word but it was like his face said them all for you. but they weren't the words you'd expect a caring older brother to say, it was more like a .. 'wow how nice.' but in a sarcastic tone.. his mother on the other hand.. "aww how sweet! young love, its so beautiful." she clasped her hands together before grabbing your forearm and staring up at you with twinkling eyes, it was like she was already envisioning your wedding and family with junho. "promise me you'll take care of my son, okay?"

it was a little past 10pm by now, everyone had eaten a slice of cake and junho's mother adored it. junho was right, his mom did love you. she was already talking about marriage and how she wouldnt be surprised if you made the wedding cake because the one you had brought today was "just too delicious!" you laughed and giggled at her antics, your face flushed in embarrassment. you turned to look at inho, who was staring at you intensely. your happiness almost instantly vanished as you shuffled in your chair. maybe he was upset you hadn't given him his gift yet...that should do it!! maybe he'd stop once you did. "a- inho, I brought you a gift." his eyes widened and it had seemed like he just heard life changing news, maybe he really was just sulking over a present..it was kind of cute. you grabbed your bag from your feet next to you and shuffled around until you found a yellow box, you pushed it towards inho and smiled. your tried your best to give a genuine, heartfelt smile even though you felt uncomfortable with all his glances and stares. he smiled at you, this time it seemed a little less fake...but still not genuine. he opened the box, it was a watch. a very beautiful one. it was shimmering under the dinning room light, a light white silver with simple but detailed engravings on the band of the watch. it was beautiful and it definitely wasn't the cheapest, you don't remember how much it was exactly since you had bought it the same day junho had told you about his brothers birthday..but you knew it was enough to make you wince at the receipt. "I left the receipt folded under the cloth Incase it isn't to your li-" you were cut off by inhos voice, it was calm, not as cold as it was before..it was rather soothing even.. "no. its perfect." he put the watch on, adjusting it so it fit his wrist perfectly. you felt your lips creep into a wide smile, you were so glad this day was going perfectly. "wow, that's such a pretty watch! it must've costed you a lot." their mother interrupted the two of you, staring at the watch that sat on inhos wrist and then at you. "inho, say thank you! be polite." she hit the back of his head harshly, as if she were scolding a little kid... you laughed at the scene, mothers truly see their children as their babies forever. "no- its okay miss don't wo-" it seemed like today was full of interruptions and cut offs as inho did just it again. "thank you y/n, I appreciate it a lot." his face was blank again, no readable expression was there.. but based off his passed reactions..you felt he was being sincere. . . . "thank you miss, thank you inho." you bowed at the both of them while you stood at the front door with junho, showing your gratitude for their kindness and patience with you and your boyfriend. "of course honey, please come back any time you want." junho's mother grabbed your hand one more time, inho nodded along with her. he wasn't a man of many words but it seemed his scary demeanor had vanished. maybe it was never even there and you were just nervous..either way you were glad you didn't leave the house with a weird feeling about your boyfriends brother. juho's mother then shoo'd the two of you away, telling you it was late and you shouldn't stay up so late at such a young age... you felt happy. a warm feeling sat in your heart and stomach, it was like you had just found your second family.

time skip (5 years)

there you sat in the police station, its been days since youve last seen your husband. you were sobbing into the palm of your hands, the salty liquid dripped onto your long dress as you drained ever drop of water from your body. you were terrified. what happened to him?? where was he?? what had he gotten into? you were devastated to say the least, you explained with a shaky and quaky voice that your husband had just told you he was off to investigate his brothers vanishment and would be back by the night..like always! so when you woke up and he wasn't there you just felt dread. you texted him and texted him all day to no response. when he didn't come back for the second day you reported him missing. you reported this story to the police about 9 times already, everyday since you reported him missing you came to the police station for any clues or help..an obviously everyday they told you the same thing...that they had nothing. the only reason they didn't push you off to the side when you came in was well..because your husband worked for them. he was a police officer under them, it'd feel disrespectful to you and junho if they just told you to give up hope on finding your husband. maybe you'd stop after another week or two..you'd realize whatever fate inho had found was the same junho ended to aswell... and not only that but you were pretty, kind and in obvious distress over your husband. they'd feel like they just kicked a sick puppy in the stomach if they told you to go away. so every day, at 8am you come in. usually in a pretty sundress but your state of mind isn't as pretty. your eye bags were prominent and you seemed to constantly be in a state of dissociation.... "you promise there's nothing? please double check! please..I need my husband back. you don't understand" your words were exasperated and rushed, you wanted answers, your husband, closure, anything! your breaths were getting heavy as you reached your delicate hand to the tissue box on the desk infront of you. you felt yourself breaking down, more and more, every. day. the police officer let out a breathy sigh, he was trying his very best to not tell you off. to tell you to go back to your home and cry there or something. to stop wasting his time every single fucking day.. but he couldn't. and he wouldn't. not when your state was some of the worst he's seen in his years of being an officer. "listen ma'am, there seems to be a dead end a-" you slammed your hand onto the table, one still holding the now damp tissue as you started to cry harder. you shook your head violently, indicating a very obvious no...or in this case obvious denial. "no. there..there isn't a dead end. he's alive and he needs your help!! please..please keep searching i-i'll.." you started to dig into your purse, the same one junho had gifted you for your 5th anniversary not long before this whole ordeal. when you felt what you were looking for you snatched it out your bag, like it was grabbing it, stealing it from your grasp. "h-here..d-dont stop searching please. I'll give you this..p-please.." in between words you started to cry more, tears streaming down your cheeks and dripping off your skin. your head was lowered and you were looking at your lap. you didn't want to stop looking for him. you wouldn't stop until you knew he was safe. "ma'am...you don't have to give me money for doing my job." he slid the stack of money that you had taken from your purse back to you and shook his head in disapproval. "listen.. sigh we're trying our best okay? we arent just laying around doing nothing, he was our coworker and we want to find him as much as you do.." he looked away from your depressing state, you were catching your breath and shaking, your fists were curled into balls. it was clear, even though he was an officer that he didn't want to find junho nearly as much as you did..he didn't think it would even be possible to. "just..take a break. you're overwhelming yourself and it isn't good for you. junho is strong and you know this, so just believe in him and his ability to live..."

the officer opened a drawer that was next to his seat, it was a little pile of candies.. he grabbed a handful and handed you a few. with a shaky hand you took the candies, your eyes were red and puffy. it was painfully obvious that you had just broken down in tears. you didnt want to speak but it was obvious by the way you acted, that all you wanted right now was for your husband to come back into your embrace. "if you want I can step out and let you calm down." the officer stares at you, awaiting the answer that would leave your lips. "no..its okay.. i-...whatever. thank you, I will take a break to calm down and compose myself. please have a good day." you mumbled the first few words, like a scared child who had just gotten caught with their hand in the cookie jar and is now making up an excuse. you let out a loud sigh before you stood up from your chair, rubbing your tired, sore eyes before fixing your hair and grabbing your bag. you turned around right as you were in front of the office door, you bowed at the officer to show your gratitude as you proceeded to touch the cold metal handle of the door and creaked it open. with a click of the door closing you were walking away from the room you had just broken down in.

there you were, sitting on the edge of the bed you and your husband shared. it felt cold every time you sunk your body into the soft mattress..cold and empty. you weren't used to this, you were used to your husband coming home from work and giving you a kiss. slipping into the soft blankets together as you worked as heaters for each other's bodies. you didn't like this. you didn't want this. you flopped your upper torso onto the bed, causing it to make a squeaking sound to the sudden pressure. your legs were dangling off the side of the bed as you stared up into the ceiling. the world around you felt hazy, like everything that surrounded your body was just an empty void of nothingness. the world was meaningless without junho. you felt your eyes getting heavier and heavier...until they had finally closed shut.

knock... knock... knock you jolted up from your bed, who was here at this time? it's like 2am... you stared at the closed bedroom door, thinking about if it was a good idea to open the doorm. you're a young woman alone at her house at 2am...what if it was a sex trafficker trying to kidnap and rape you!!?? knock... knock... knock the loud but slow knocks echoed throughout the house, the knocks took a 3 second pause inbetween..it was so creepy.. it made your skin crawl.. bu...what if...what if the police have clues about junho and came to talk to you about it they heard of it!! or..what if junho had finally come home..... these thoughts rand through your head, you were scared of what might be behind of that door. but not scared enough to not open it. you slowly got up from your bed, making it squeak under the pressure of your body. your soft slippers made a swooshing sound against the wooden floors as you shuffled your way to the front door... knock... knock.... knock there it was...the knocking. you couldn't help but feel this dry lump from in your throat, but you had to do it...you needed to make sure... if it was some stranger you'd just slam the door on them and go and hide in a closet or something.. your swallowed the lump in your throat and placed your palm on the cold metal of the handle, unlocking it with a small click and turning it clockwise so that it opened the door.. you didn't open it alot, just enough to see who was on the other side. your eyes stared at the dark soulless eyes In front of you, it was a random man. you had no idea why he was here or what he wanted..but he looked very familiar..maybe he was an off duty cop that just wanted to check up on you..? "h-hello..? how can I help you..." your voice was small and quiet, barely above a whisper as you used the door as some kind of shield from the strange man. "yes. you can." you stared up at the man with confused puppy dog eyes, what did that even mean?? you furrowed your eyebrows and squinted your eyes as you stared at him..you were about to close the door on the strange man until something clicked inside of you. you recognized where he was from.. "inho?! w-what? what are you.." your judgmental facial expression quickly changed into one of shook and worry, was he here to see junho? how would you break the news that his brother was now missing too?? you raised your small hand to your mouth, covering it in shock..you didn't even know what to do....what should you say..? your eyes started to water and tear up, you were reminded of the harsh reality junho was in..he was seriously missing and now the person he went missing looking for was In front of you...it seemed like everyone was just against you. mocking the disappearance of your husband. "what...are you doing here? a-are you here for junho..he's.." you let out choked sighs after every other word, taking your hands from your mouth to your entire face. you were a crying mess In front of a man you barely knew, it was so embarrassing. you were so pathetic and sad. everyone's been telling you to just get over it but here you are, sobbing for what felt like the 6th time today. a loud sigh snapped you out of your saddened state,, but...it wasn't a sigh of disapproval or frustration...it was like a sigh of...desire. like he was getting off to the sight your sobbing, scared and fragile body. "you're doing this on purpose, you have to be." you stared up at inho with confusion. you eyebrow was raised, as if asking him what the fuck he meant by that. before you could even mutter a word he pushed you, really harshly. you went flying back into your home, head hitting the hard wood. you felt yourself getting dizzier and dizzier for a few seconds...you felt like you couldn't move, speak or even see anymore...your head was spinning and alarms were ringing from the inside of your head..until you were passed out.

you woke up... you were sitting in the middle of the dining room, it seemed like someone had moved the table and other chairs out the way as it was literally only you. you and the chair you were sitting on. the room was barely lit up, you could only see some of your surroundings due to the singular light that was on. the ligh that bulb was right on top of you..it felt like you were about to get interrogated for murder,,you were terrified. for you wanted to scream, cry and just run away from what was happening. but you couldn't. your ankles were tied onto the legs of the chair. your arms and torso were bounded to the chair itself with a thick rope., it was digging into your skin hard..it hurt. alot.. you wanted to squirm around and get yourself free but you knew you'd just end up knocking the chair down and you'd be stuck in an awkward position..you tried to start screaming but you couldnt, you were confused..it was like your mouth was glued shut.....your eyes darted around the room, looking for anyone, anything to help you. it took you a second for you to put the pieces together but.. once you did you realized.. your mouth was duck taped shut. you didn't know what to do, you were overwhelmed and you just wanted your husband back to you. you closed your eyes shut as warm salty tears fell from your eyes. your eyes just couldn't catch a break, could they? they were tired and sore. even when you werent sleepy it hurt to open and close the..a result of crying for days.. you just wanted to feel happiness again. but clearly that wasn't going to happen soon. was your fate going to be the same as your husbands? were his kidnappers after you to sew your mouth shut?? you didn't want to die..at least not because you got closure.. "you shouldn't cry Infront of me. its a bad idea. I have a thing for little girls that look pretty when they cry." your head jumped forward, looking at the figure that had stepped out the shadows surrounding you.. your eyes widened, remembering that inho had been the one that knocked you over and caused you to black out. the same man that had gone missing 5 years ago, the same man that your brother went missing looking for.. what was he doing here? was he here to kill you? to keep you silent? to assault you? thoughts rand through your head as he took large, slow steps towards you. as if he was mocking your frightened state. he reached his right hand out towards you, your eyes landed on the silver watch he was wearing. it seemed so similar to the one you had gifted all those years ago..but no way he would still be wearing it, right? before you could even process another thought his hand gripped at your hair, pulling your head back and forcing you to literally stare up at him. the roughness of his grip made you wince in pain..he didn't come here with intentions of being nice and if you didn't realize that person you definitely realized that now. you tried to scream and kick your feet, you knew the tape and rope would stop your attempts and make them useless but you still tried. your screams just came out as diluted, muffled noises. the tape had stopped you from making any loud noises... the chair under your only shook a little but it wasn't enough to lighten the grip inho had on your hair. his dark, soulless eyes stared you down. they were like black orbs, nothing behind them. he grinned at you, like he was watching a cartoon and a character had did something funny. he was laughing at you. he thought this was funny. "you look so stupid, you do know that the tape will just silence all your screams, right? or are you too young and dumb to understand that yet." he tilted his head at you and gave you a mockingly confused expression. he was having the time of his fucking life while you were here, scared for your damn life. you glared at him, trying to intimidate him..doing anything to scare him...trying to find the little humanity in him that feels sympathy was clearly never going to happen. so you had to try another approach..even if it wasn't going to work either... and your suspicions were right ..

he just smiled at you, another mockingly fake smile... he released his hand from the grip he had on your hair and pinched your cheeks, just as roughly as he did with your hair. leaving a red mark when he let go... it was like he was treating you like you were a pouting child, stomping your feet because your mom didn't let you buy the comically huge lollipop you really wanted. "youre not scary sweetie." the pet name made you want to throw up in your mouth. he knew well you were his sister in law but here he was, calling you pet names with his disgusting voice. " you know..ive had my eyes on you since i met you...you're just so gorgeous..and delicate." he took a short but slow walk around u and stopped to stand behind you. his cold hands reached to your face and covered your eyes. you couldn't see anything but you knew he was leaned up in your ear...you could feel his hot breath making you unnervingly uncomfortable. "I just wanna ruin you." your breathe hitched in your throat, he was going to rape you. you know it, you had to fight back, you had to. you couldn't let a man that wasn't your husband put his dick inside you. inho took his cold hands away from your face and walked back in front of you. you glanced down at his crotch and...there was a bulge...he was getting off to your scared shape. he truly was an emotionless sadist.. he held up his index finger to your covered lips. "shh. make any noise and I wont think twice about killing you and your husband." your eyes widened as you heard the last part...that meant your husband was alive..and he knew where he was. you nodded slowly, complying with his words. he ripped the piece of tape off your mouth, causing you to let out a yelp in pain. you stared at him with a frightened face, you realized you had just made a loud sound...you didn't want to die you didn't..you didn't want your husband to die! "I said. be quiet." the truth with inho was, he had already killed your husband..at least he thought he did. only a day ago did he shot junho, causing him to fall off the side of the island...he probably drowned and is floating lifeless in the sea right now.. but you didnt need to know that...and it was clear you weren't even aware. your mouth was shut and you tried to silence your heavy rapid breathing....you really did love your husband..he wanted to steal that love from junhos grasp. he leaned down, his face was now perfectly aligned with yours... you wanted to say something, you wanted to scream and cry but if you did he'd kill you...you knew he would... his left hand started to rub your cheek, it was gentle and warm but it just made you hate it even more...his fake kindness. you hated it. his lips connected with yours, at first it seemed like he was trying to be gentle but it was obvious he had quickly gotten bored of it before he got rough. your teeth were clashing with each other as he shoved his tongue into your mouth. exploring every inch of it before he started to nip at your lips...he was aggressive and messy. everything junho wasn't.. this wasn't the kind of kiss you wanted or craved. you felt like your eyes were sewn shut the way you refused to open them, you didn't want to stare at inho. you just wanted this to end..maybe once it did you'd finally have your husband back. after what felt like hours of making out he has finally took his chapped lips off of your soft ones. a string of saliva connected the two of you as he caught his breath. you opened your eyes to stare at him, they were watery..your tears were pricking at the corners of your eyes as you caught your breath. to inho you eyes were like glass marbles...and he wanted to shatter them into pieces. you took deep breaths in an attempt to calm down. if you were calm it wouldn't be as bad. you read this inside your mind over and over and over again. you just prayed he would use you quickly and then leave... "you know, that day..the day where junho has brought you to our mothers house for my birthday.." his eyes wandered away from you, as if he were recalling the day in exact detail, scene by scene...

his eyes snapped back to yours, holding intense eye contact until he continued his sentence... "when I asked you what you loved most about junho you told me you loved his kindness. you said he was a soft person..an angel in your eyes." he crouched down, staring at you with intense eyes. his sharp features were like daggers, stabbing one by one into your heart. "you told me you loved something about him that I lacked. I'm not a kind person. and right now..you probably think I'm the devil instead of an angel like my brother.." he smiled at you, it was a cold, fake smile. if you touched his face right now it'd probably be ice cold.. "thats how I knew someone like you would never willingly be with a man like me.. but it's okay, I'll just force myself onto you." you started to cry, the salty liquid streamed down from your cheeks to your chin. your eyes were red and puffy, you didn't know what to do. you didn't want to be with this man, you didn't want this. inhos left head reached to your face, this time he squeezed the both of your cheeks so that your lips were puckered at him. "got it, princess?" he leaned in to kiss you again, this time he went aggressive right away. forcing his tongue into your mouth, some of your tears dripped onto his mouth. letting him taste the saltiness of your sadness. and it was delicious.

there you sat, he had freed your ankles from the restraints on the chair. nipping and licking at your clit. you hated this, you couldn't stop crying. you felt disgusting, a man that wasn't your husband was licking and eating your pussy out. why would you let this happen? at this point death felt better than breaking your husbands heart. you lets out cries and soft no's as he slurped your juices. you hated that it felt good, you hated that he knew what he was doing. your moans and mewls filled the room, followed with wet sloppy sounds of spit and cum mixed together. he's been eating you out for what felt like hours, you've probably came like 3 times already. you were getting tired..your legs were shaky, trying to close in on themselves but inhos arms kept them wide open for you. "p-please stop. I don't like thi-this...ah...please..let me go already..please.." you were begging with him, your eyes were shaky, your face was flushed and your lips were wet from his aggressive kisses. god. the scene of you begging for him to stop as he abused your clit was one he wanted engraved in his mind forever. he let go of your pussy with a loud pop, your juices and his spit was all over his mouth and chin. he looked like a wild animal that had just eaten his prey alive. with his sleeve he wiped off the liquid on his face. 'ruining' his all black jacket. "you want me to stop but your cum is all over my face and lips. you want me to stop but you keep moaning. just admit you're a slut for me." you close your eyes shut, shaking your head viciously, you don't want him. you don't want this. you just want your husband to be safe. that's all you want... inho scoffs at you, as if you were lying to his face. maybe he truly did believe you wanted this..that you wanted him.. but you knew it wasn't true, you knew that you loved junho and that you werent fighting back back because you just wanted him back.. you'd break down in tears in his arms once he comes home, you'll explain it when he's home. he'd understand..right..? you were lost in your thoughts, but reality snapped you out of them.. 2 long fingers were inside of your core, curling and pumping in and out... it hurt so much. it was nothing like you were used to, slow paced and gentle..no..it was fast and rough. you let out a cry, you were in so much pain it made you want to go insane. the rope that was still tied around your arms and waist dug into your skin, burning you as you struggled under the restraints..trying to find a way out. it felt like inhos was trying to split you in half, the rough skin on his finger pads only made it worse. but ofcoourse it had to feel good, because he knew what he was doing. even if it was messy, even if it was rough, even if you didn't like it..he knew how to make a woman feel good past all the pain. he tilted his head up towards you, his dark almond eyes burned holes into yours. "you gonna cum?" instead of a question, it felt like a demand. demanding you to answer yes, scaring you into saying yes.. but you didn't say yes, you said no. you shook your head and mouthed no to inho, not daring to say it out loud..and it obviously made him upset. he sneered at you before grabbing is free hand and pinching your clit before speeding the pace of his fingers. this was something you've never felt before, the pleasure finally overshadowed the pain and it felt like he had just forced your orgasm out of your body. your cum coated his digits, leaving a slightly milky white color on them.. you were catching your breath, it was hard to breath..the pain, anxiety and fear were catching up to you...you felt your throat slowly closing on you..you felt like you couldn't even breath enough air to supply your lungs are this point.. you were so caught up in your own world that you didn't even realize how he was pressing against the bulge that was begging to be freed from his trousers..he stared at you with bleak eyes, there was nothing behind them...nothing but desire and want..you were scared witless of what he would do to your poor body next. and whatever it was, you didn't want it

the bed was creaking under you, the same bed you and juho slept in everyday... you legs were pressing onto your stomach, the skin rubbing against each other. inho was slamming his cock in and out of you.. touching spots you didn't even know could be reached before this. you felt horrible for feeling so good. but you didn't want this. you were a crying moaning mess. your nails were digging onto his hands, the ones that were pressing you down. you were begging for him to stop, you didn't want this..you felt like you were being forced into this. with the life of your husband on the line.. inho let go of your left thigh and reached to your neck. his freezing hand sending shivers through your body as he started to choke you whilst pounding in and out of you..destroying your gummy insides. he lowered his face to you and scoffed, you looked so pathetic. crying and sobbing acting like you weren't enjoying his fat cock. why wouldn't you just admit you liked it for once? "acting like youre the victim while my cocks deep inside of you. is this all women do? complain about everything..just admit you like it. I wont tell." you felt so degrading. you were getting fucked by a man you barely knew on the bed your missing husband and you slept on every day at somepoint. using his life against you and now he's blaming you? was it really your fault? could you have just turned him away and still gotten junho back? was that an option that you weren't told about? you started crying, your weak arms pushing against his chest with no avail. you just wanted it to stop, you were in pain and now you're being told its your fault you're in this situation. you can never win. you began to sob louder, begging him to let you go, louder and louder until you were wailing like a stupid baby. your hand grasped at the tight grip he had on your neck, then to his chest to push him away again. "shut up." he snarled before taking off his hand from your neck, he had left a bruise from how hard he was gripping...with the same hand he harshly slapped you. shutting your cries up quickly. a red spot started to quickly form, your skin was now irritated in what felt like every place on your body.. "you're such a slut. taking the dick of a man 20 years older than you on the very bed your husband would sleep on. do you not feel ashamed? hmm?" he hummed at you, waiting for your reply. but you didn't even mutter a word, nothing. you decided you'll just take it with no noise, if you stay quiet up maybe it'll end faster?.. it should...shouldn't it..you were trying to comfort yourself in your head.. "you can keep trying to tell yourself otherwise but youre nothing but a dirty cheater. taking dick like a good girl. this probably isn't the first time youve done this huh?" he laughed at your now soulless face, he was right when he said he wanted to ruin you. he was doing that, and it got worse with every second that passed. "ffuck I'm close. you better cum or else I'll js' keep on using you until you do." you started to tear up, your clit twitching and your hole began to clench around his cock. you felt good, but terrible at the same time..you doubted he was cumming because he thought you felt good though, it was a factor but it was probably your shape that made him so horny. you were sad, in pain...tired... he got off to it so bad. you let out quiet pants and moans, indicating to inho that you were close too. he started to get sloppy, his pace getting even faster as the wet slapping sound of skin filled your ears to the brim. you felt your clit pulsating, begging for release...once you came you'd be free..you'd be...you'd be....be.. "a-aa.. fuck fuck fuckfck fuck! ouOUGH~" you let out loud, filthy moans. probably for the first time that night, instead of your cries it was your moans and whimpers that the room was now brimming with. inho loved the sound of your noises, your cries, moans, everything. God it made him so horny...once he felt you cum all over his cock he let his go through as well. fucking his orgasm into you deeper, and deeper with a loud groan..

he kept moving slowly, fucking you through your orgasm as your breathes calmed down.. "I want to ruin every inch of kindness and hope for humanity you have left in you. you're so perfect. perfect to corrupt.." his hand raised to your cheek and started to rub it 'lovingly'. you had a feeling he wasn't going to let you go like he had told you he would.

...

Another not: I FINALLY FINISHED YAY took me like all day again but ....yay!! I hope u guys liked it. I'm pretty proud of it but idk if its ooc or not... but SMASH THE LIKE BUTTON N HIT SUBSCRIBE 4 MORE..!!!!!!!

TAGLIST: @pollys-doublelife @gongyoosgf

[mariemomentsmoments]

This will like actually happen I think. Like the idea of Ragatha being a manipulator was something I was sold on for a bit but her being someone who helps others for the sake of personal affirmation actually makes a lot more sense. Her also being convinced she's a bad person for it makes sense to me. It's clear she never puts focus on her problems even when she gets hit with shit that could literally abstract someone so she's not some horrible person. She just doesn't know how to take care of herself without the affirmation of others and hopes helping them will get her that. This makes even more sense when you consider she's been in the circus for such a long time, she's lost so many so it's probably hard to feel like her care has had a genuine impact so she just resorted to behaviors which kept her sane in a slightly more selfish way. It probably also doesn't help that the girl is HORRIBLE at helping people, she made Pomni feel infantilized and Gangle has no idea if she's genuine or not. That suggests to me she's either not putting in effort but still expecting the same results of affirmation in return, or she just sucks at this and it kinda just contributes to everything else at play here like her thinking she's a bad person. Her seeing herself as a villain rather than ACTUALLY being a villain is just cooler and makes more sense.

the comic about evil ragatha who is being very evil because she's just so evil

[kdyq]

The arrival of Amara.

Part four of this series.

context the birth of you and Ambessa baby.

Life had settled into a quiet rhythm though it was clear you were both waiting for the storm of change to come. Ambessa was careful in her preparations overseeing every detail of the nursery and ensuring the household was ready for the arrival of your daughter.

Now on an otherwise calm morning “The storm”had arrived.

It started with a strange heaviness in your body one that made walking the length of the garden feel more like a journey across Noxus itself. Ambessa walked beside you her hand firmly on the small of your back. Her touch was a reassuring constant though her watchful gaze told you she was already on high alert.

“You’re slowing down love” she said gently leaning down slightly so her voice was close to your ear. “Do you need to sit?”

You shook your head though your legs wobbled slightly under you. “I’m okay. Just… tired. My back feels different today.”

Ambessa’s brow furrowed her lips pressing into a thin line. “Different how?”

“Like… more pressure. And it keeps coming and going.”

Her hand shifted to your side her strong fingers pressing gently against the muscles there. “Let’s go back to the house. I’d rather not take any chances.”

Though you wanted to protest a particularly sharp twinge made you nod in agreement. As you walked Ambessa kept her hand on your back her steady presence helping you through each step.

By the time you reached the grand hall the discomfort had turned into something more intense. You paused mid-step clutching a nearby chair as a wave of pain gripped you.

Ambessa was at your side instantly her large hands encircling your waist. “What’s happening? Talk to me.”

You winced breathing through the pain. “It’s… sharper now. Like something’s about to—”

Before you could finish a sudden warmth spread down your legs. You gasped your eyes wide as you looked down.

Ambessa followed your gaze her golden eyes widening slightly. “Your water just broke” she said her voice steady but tinged with urgency.

A mix of panic and excitement filled you. “What do we do? Ambessa—”

She cupped your face her thumbs brushing over your cheeks. “We breathe and we move. I’ve got you love. You’re not alone in this.”

The bathing chamber was already prepared when you arrived thanks to the servants and midwives who worked quickly to ready the space. The warm water steamed invitingly the room dimly lit by candles.

Ambessa helped you undress her hands careful and deliberate as she removed each layer of clothing. “You’re safe” she murmured her voice low and soothing. “I’ll be with you every step of the way.”

Once in the water the warmth helped ease some of the pain though the contractions continued to intensify. Ambessa sat at the edge of the pool her hand resting on your shoulder as you leaned against the side.

“You’re doing beautifully” she said her voice soft but firm.

You shot her a look your breath hitching as another contraction hit. “It doesn’t feel beautiful” you muttered through gritted teeth.

Ambessa chuckled softly brushing a damp strand of hair from your face. “It doesn’t have to feel beautiful to be beautiful.”

Hours passed the labor progressing slowly. Ambessa was a constant presence her deep voice guiding you through each contraction. When the pain became overwhelming she climbed into the water behind you her strong arms wrapping around your middle.

“Lean on me” she said pressing a kiss to your temple. “Feel my breath and match it.”

When the next contraction came you tried to follow her lead but the pain made you snap. “I am breathing Ambessa!” you shouted your voice cracking. “Can’t you tell?!”

For a moment the room went silent the weight of your outburst hanging in the air. Then Ambessa’s arms tightened around you her voice softening. “I know love. I know. You’re doing everything right. I’m sorry I just want to help.”

Your chest heaved with a mix of exhaustion and guilt. Turning your head slightly you whispered “I’m sorry my love. I didn’t mean—”

She pressed her lips to your hair silencing you. “No apologies. You’re in the fight of your life right now and I’m honored to be here with you.”

When the midwives announced it was time to push Ambessa moved to hold one of your legs her large hand steadying you as you bore down.

“You’re almost there” she said her voice firm yet filled with emotion. “Just one more push love. You’ve got this.”

With a final desperate effort you felt the release as your daughter entered the world. The midwife lifted her from the water her strong cries echoing through the chamber.

Ambessa’s face transformed her usual stern look was replaced by raw emotion. Tears welled in her golden eyes as she stared at the tiny life you had brought into the world.

“She’s here” you whispered your voice trembling as the midwife placed the baby on your chest.

Ambessa kissed you on the head and smiled as she reached out a trembling hand to touch Amara’s tiny fingers. “She’s… incredible” she murmured her voice thick with emotion.

You looked up at her tears streaming down your face. “She looks like you.”

Ambessa chuckled softly brushing a finger over Amara’s cheek. “She’s perfect. Just like her mother.”

Later after being cleaned and dressed you lay in bed with Amara nestled between you and Ambessa. The room was quiet the soft glow of the fire casting shadows on the walls.

“She’s so long” you said marveling at her tiny form.

Ambessa smirked her hand gently tracing one of Amara’s legs. “She takes after me” she said proudly.

You laughed softly leaning into her side. “She’s going to grow up tall and strong just like her mama.”

Ambessa pressed a kiss to your forehead then to Amara’s. “She’ll have the best of both of us” she said quietly.

As the three of you lay there wrapped in warmth and love Ambessa whispered “Thank you my love. For her. For this. For everything.”

Tears filled your eyes as you rested your head against her shoulder. “We did this together” you said softly.

And as the first light of dawn filled the room you knew you were exactly where you were meant to be with the two people who made your world complete.

AN/ omgggg I hope you all enjoyed it the story and yes I will be continuing the series I feel like this is such a good series so I will keep making different stories that go along with this storyline while also making stories with no storyline so yay 🎀

And I hope y’all like the name I picked out for her as well

[pinkmoontaco]

Fake It till We Make It || Hwang Hyunjin

Pairing: Idol Hyunjin X Actress Y/n Genre: Fluff, Fake relationship Summary: You and Hyunjin are paired for a fake relationship to boost your public image, but what happens when fake sparks turn real?

If you have any request for other members or other groups, feel free to do so

The sound of your manager’s voice grated against your nerves, filling the small office space with an energy you couldn’t match today.

“You need this,” she said, her tone leaving no room for argument. “Your last movie tanked. The press is calling you ‘forgettable.’ Forgettable! We need to change the narrative.”

You leaned back in the leather chair, rubbing your temples. “And you think dating some idol is the solution? This is my career, not a reality show.”

Your manager’s eyes narrowed. “Not just ‘some idol.’ Hyunjin. From Stray Kids. One of the most talked-about stars right now.”

You frowned. You knew who Hyunjin was—everyone did. The golden boy of the K-pop world, known for his striking looks and graceful dancing. But lately, his name had been splashed across tabloids for all the wrong reasons: rumors of diva behavior, an old controversy that resurfaced out of nowhere, and a supposed feud with another idol.

“Why him?” you asked cautiously.

“Because he’s in hot water, too,” she replied, leaning forward. “His team is desperate to clean up his image, and a sweet, wholesome love story will do the trick for both of you. You’ll be trending for weeks. Cute couple photos, red carpet appearances, a few strategically timed interviews. It’s perfect.”

“Perfectly insane,” you muttered, but your manager ignored you.

“His team is already on board. They think you’re a great match. All you have to do is meet him, sign the NDA, and play the part.”

Before you could argue further, the door opened, and your breath caught in your throat. Hyunjin stepped in, radiating a kind of effortless charm that made your argument falter.

He was tall, dressed in a fitted black turtleneck and an oversized blazer, his hair tied back loosely. His eyes met yours, and for a brief moment, he looked as uncertain as you felt.

“Hi,” he said, his voice soft but confident. “So... I hear we’re supposed to fall in love.”

You blinked, taken aback by his bluntness. “You’re... okay with this?”

Hyunjin shrugged, a faint smirk tugging at his lips. “Not really. But apparently, this is what we need to survive.”

There was a beat of silence before you sighed, leaning forward. “Alright. Let’s get one thing straight. This is a business arrangement. No feelings, no drama. Just stick to the script, and we’ll both get through this.”

His smirk widened, and he tilted his head. “You make it sound so romantic.”

You couldn’t help but roll your eyes. This was going to be a long, long ride.

Hyunjin didn’t seem to take anything seriously. At least, that’s how it felt during your first meeting. As the two of you sat across from each other in a dimly lit conference room, discussing the parameters of your “relationship,” his carefree attitude grated on your nerves.

“Let’s start with the basics,” his PR manager said, flipping through a folder. “How did you two meet?”

You opened your mouth to answer, but Hyunjin cut in with a grin. “She saw me at a fan meet, fell in love at first sight, and begged me for my number.”

You blinked at him, unimpressed. “Or” you countered, “we met at an industry party and hit it off after a deep conversation about art and music.”

Hyunjin’s brow arched. “Deep conversation? That’s a little ambitious, don’t you think?”

You resisted the urge to glare. “Well, it’s more believable than me throwing myself at you.”

The PR manager cleared her throat, clearly amused but trying to maintain professionalism. “Let’s meet in the middle. How about you met at a mutual friend’s event? You admired each other’s work, and the connection grew naturally.”

“Fine,” you muttered, avoiding Hyunjin’s amused gaze.

The rest of the meeting was a blur of schedules, photo shoot concepts, and social media strategies. By the time you left, your head was spinning.

“You looked like you were having the time of your life,” Hyunjin teased as he walked you to the door.

You shot him a side-eye. “You’re awfully relaxed about this.”

He shrugged, his hands in his pockets. “You get used to it. Pretending is half of what we do anyway.”

The first time you were “spotted” together was at a café, staged to look like a casual date. Cameras clicked from strategic angles as you sipped your latte and pretended to hang on Hyunjin’s every word.

“So,” he said, leaning forward with an easy grin, “do I look like the perfect boyfriend yet?”

You fought the urge to roll your eyes. “Do you ever stop joking?”

“Only when I’m asleep.”

Despite your irritation, you couldn’t deny he was good at this. He knew how to angle himself for the cameras, how to flash just the right smile to make every photo look candid.

“You’re surprisingly professional,” you admitted, reluctantly impressed.

“Why, thank you,” he said, feigning a bow. “And you? Not bad for someone who claims to hate this idea.”

You didn’t reply, but his words stayed with you.

The first time you saw the cracks in Hyunjin’s carefree façade was during a late-night rehearsal. You had stopped by the JYP practice room to discuss the next day’s schedule, but the sound of music drew you in.

Hyunjin was alone, his movements fluid yet sharp, his expression focused. He didn’t notice you watching until the song ended and he turned, startled.

“Oh. Hey,” he said, wiping sweat from his brow.

“You’re still here?” you asked, stepping closer.

“Couldn’t sleep,” he admitted. “Dancing helps.”

There was something vulnerable about him in that moment, something raw and unpolished. You hesitated before speaking. “You’re... really good.”

He smiled, but it didn’t quite reach his eyes. “Thanks. It’s the one thing I know I can do right.

The comment surprised you. For someone who seemed so confident, it was the first time he’d let his insecurities slip through.

“Maybe you’re better at other things than you think,” you said softly, unsure why you felt compelled to comfort him.

He looked at you, his gaze lingering for a moment longer than necessary. “Maybe.”

Weeks passed, and the lines between performance and reality began to blur. You spent more time together than apart, attending events, sharing meals, and even rehearsing your “love story” for interviews.

Hyunjin’s teasing became less sharp, and your walls began to lower. You found yourself laughing at his jokes, seeking his opinion on things you never thought to share.

One evening, during a quiet moment on a hotel balcony, he turned to you, his expression uncharacteristically serious. “Do you ever think about what happens when this ends?”

The question caught you off guard. “What do you mean?”

“I mean... this. Us. Pretending to be something we’re not.”

You hesitated, unsure how to answer. “I try not to think about it. It’s easier that way.”

He nodded, his gaze distant. “Yeah. Me too.”

For the first time, the thought of “the end” left an ache in your chest.

The two of you sat in an unfamiliar green room, waiting for your turn on a late-night talk show. Hyunjin was scrolling on his phone, while you nervously fidgeted with the hem of your dress. The show was known for playful interviews that often led to viral moments.

“You’ll be fine,” Hyunjin said, his tone unusually gentle.

You looked up at him, surprised by his sincerity. “What?”

“You’ve been messing with that dress for the past ten minutes,” he said, nodding toward your hands. “Relax. You’re a natural at this stuff.”

You laughed softly, shaking your head. “Hardly. This whole fake dating thing has me second-guessing everything.”

Hyunjin set his phone down, his expression softening. “Look, just follow my lead. They love us together.”

His confidence was reassuring, and for a moment, you allowed yourself to trust him.

When it was your turn onstage, Hyunjin kept his promise. He answered questions with practiced ease, throwing in playful remarks that made the audience laugh. When the host asked about your “relationship,” Hyunjin reached over to take your hand.

“It’s been amazing,” he said, smiling at you like you were the only person in the room.

For a moment, the world seemed to blur, leaving just the two of you. The warmth of his hand, the way his eyes crinkled when he smiled—it felt real.

And that terrified you.

After the show, you found yourselves walking back to the hotel, the cool night air refreshing after hours under studio lights. Hyunjin, still buzzing with energy, suggested a detour.

“There’s this rooftop I go to sometimes,” he said. “The view’s incredible.”

You hesitated but eventually agreed. A short elevator ride later, you were standing atop a quiet rooftop overlooking the city. The lights stretched endlessly, a shimmering sea of color and life.

“Wow,” you murmured, leaning against the railing.

“Right?” Hyunjin joined you, his voice softer now. “It’s one of the few places that makes me feel... small, in a good way.”

You glanced at him, noticing the faraway look in his eyes. “Do you ever miss being just... normal?”

“All the time,” he admitted. “But then I think about the people who believe in me, who find comfort in what I do. That makes it worth it.”

His words resonated with you, and for the first time, you saw past the idol persona. This wasn’t Hyunjin the star—this was just Hyunjin, a young man trying to make sense of his place in the world.

As the two of you stood there, sharing quiet thoughts under the stars, you felt something shift. The lines between what was fake and what was real began to blur even further.

The turning point came during a gala event. You were dressed to the nines, smiling politely as you mingled with industry elites. Hyunjin stayed close, his presence a steadying force.

Then your co-star, Eric, appeared. He was charming and overconfident, and he wasted no time pulling you into a conversation.

Hyunjin, watching from a distance, felt a strange pang in his chest as he saw you laughing at Eric’s jokes. He told himself it was all part of the act—after all, this wasn’t real.

But when Eric leaned in a little too close, Hyunjin found himself walking over.

“Hey,” he said smoothly, slipping an arm around your waist. “Everything okay here?”

You blinked up at him, surprised by his sudden possessiveness. “Yeah, we were just—”

Great,” Hyunjin cut in, his smile tight. “But we should probably get back to the table. They’re about to announce the next award.”

Eric raised an eyebrow but didn’t argue. As Hyunjin led you away, his hand lingering at your waist, you couldn’t help but notice the tension in his jaw.

“Was that necessary?” you asked once you were out of earshot.

Hyunjin didn’t meet your eyes. “Probably not.”

You studied him, a flicker of understanding dawning. Was he... jealous?

That night, back at the hotel, you knocked on Hyunjin’s door. He opened it, looking surprised to see you.

“Can we talk?” you asked, your voice quieter than usual.

He stepped aside, letting you in. The room was dimly lit, and the atmosphere felt heavy with unspoken words.

“What’s going on?” you asked, crossing your arms. “You’ve been acting... strange.”

Hyunjin sighed, running a hand through his hair. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Really?” you challenged. “Because it sure seemed like you were about to deck Eric earlier.”

His gaze finally met yours, and for the first time, you saw hesitation there. “I guess I just didn’t like seeing him flirt with you.”

“Why?” you pressed, your heart pounding.

He hesitated, then sighed. “Because maybe this doesn’t feel so fake anymore.”

The confession hung between you, leaving you breathless

Hyunjin’s words hung in the air, heavy and unshakable. For a moment, all you could do was stare at him, trying to process what he has just said.

“This doesn’t feel so fake anymore,�� he repeated, softer this time, like he was testing the words himself.

You shook your head, stepping back instinctively. “Hyunjin, we can’t... This wasn’t supposed to happen.”

“I know,” he said, his voice almost pleading. “But maybe it was inevitable. We’ve spent so much time together—”

“It’s an act,” you interrupted, more forcefully than you intended. “That’s all it is. We agreed from the beginning: no feelings, no drama.”

He flinched at your words, his expression clouding. “Right. No feelings.”

You could see the hurt in his eyes, but you forced yourself to turn away. You couldn’t afford to let this become real. Not when your careers, your reputations—everything—was on the line.

“I should go,” you said, your voice barely above a whisper.

Hyunjin didn’t stop you, and that made it worse.

After that night, things changed. Hyunjin became distant, his playful demeanor replaced by quiet professionalism. You told yourself this was for the best—that keeping your distance would make it easier to maintain the illusion without getting tangled in your emotions.

But it didn’t feel easier.

The staged dates, the red-carpet appearances, even the candid moments for the cameras—all of it felt emptier now. You missed the way Hyunjin used to tease you, the way he could make you laugh even when you didn’t want to.

It wasn’t until a fan event, weeks later, that the tension finally boiled over.

A fan asked Hyunjin about your relationship, and he gave his usual charming answer, but there was a noticeable edge to his tone. Afterward, when you were alone backstage, you couldn’t hold back anymore.

“What’s your problem?” you snapped.

Hyunjin turned to you, his expression unreadable. “My problem? I’m just doing what you wanted—keeping it professional.”

You clenched your fists, frustration bubbling over. “You don’t have to be so cold about it!”

He let out a bitter laugh. “What do you want from me? You were the one who said this was just an act.”

“I didn’t mean—” You stopped yourself, realizing you didn’t know how to finish the sentence.

Hyunjin stepped closer, his gaze piercing. “What didn’t you mean?”

Your breath hitched. For a moment, the only sound was the distant hum of the crowd outside.

“I didn’t mean to hurt you,” you admitted finally, your voice trembling.

Hyunjin’s expression softened, but he didn’t say anything. Instead, he reached out, his hand brushing against yours. The touch was fleeting, but it sent a jolt through you.

“We can’t keep doing this,” he said quietly. “Not if it’s going to hurt like this.”

The tension between you and Hyunjin came to a head during a joint interview. The host, sensing the awkwardness, asked a question that caught both of you off guard.

“What’s the most unexpected thing you’ve learned about each other?”

Hyunjin hesitated, glancing at you before answering. “She’s a lot stronger than she gives herself credit for.”

His words took you by surprise. For the first time in weeks, you saw a glimpse of the Hyunjin you’d gotten to know—the one who saw past your walls and made you feel seen.

When it was your turn to answer, you found yourself speaking without thinking. “He’s not as carefree as he seems

Hyunjin’s eyes met yours, and in that moment, something shifted.

Later that night, after the interview, you found yourself standing outside Hyunjin’s hotel room. Your heart raced as you knocked on the door, unsure of what you were going to say but knowing you couldn’t leave things as they were.

He opened the door, his expression wary but hopeful. “Hey.”

“Can we talk?” you asked, your voice trembling.

He stepped aside, letting you in. The room was quiet, the air heavy with unspoken words.

“I’ve been thinking,” you began, your hands twisting nervously. “About what you said… about how this doesn’t feel fake anymore.”

Hyunjin watched you carefully, his eyes searching yours. “And?”

You took a deep breath, forcing yourself to meet his gaze. “You’re right. It doesn’t feel fake. At least, not to me.”

His eyes widened, a flicker of hope breaking through his guarded expression. “Are you saying…?”

“I’m saying I’m scared,” you admitted. “But I don’t want to keep pretending like this doesn’t mean anything. Because it does. You do.”

For a moment, Hyunjin didn’t say anything. Then, without warning, he crossed the room and pulled you into his arms.

“I thought I’d lost you,” he whispered, his voice thick with emotion.

You clung to him, tears pricking at your eyes. “You didn’t.”

The next day, when you stepped out together for another staged appearance, something was different. The smiles, the hand-holding, the lingering glances—they weren’t for the cameras anymore.

They were for each other.

And this time, it was real.

The first kiss happened unexpectedly. It wasn’t during a red-carpet event or a photo shoot—it was in the quiet of your apartment, after a long day.

Hyunjin had stopped by to drop off some documents your managers wanted you to review together. You were sitting on the couch, bickering playfully over the wording of a statement when Hyunjin suddenly went quiet.

“What?” you asked, glancing up.

He was looking at you with that soft, unreadable expression he often had when he thought you weren’t paying attention.

“Nothing,” he said, his voice barely above a whisper. “I just... You look really beautiful right now.”

Your cheeks burned, and you let out a nervous laugh. “Stop teasing me.”

“I’m not teasing,” he said, leaning closer. His hand came up to brush a strand of hair out of your face, and your breath hitched.

The kiss was soft and hesitant at first, as if both of you were testing the waters. But when you didn’t pull away, Hyunjin deepened it, his hand cupping your cheek as his lips moved against yours.

When you finally broke apart, both of you were breathless.

“That wasn’t in the script,” you murmured, trying to hide your smile.

Hyunjin grinned. “Maybe we should improvise more often.”

If you thought the kiss marked a turning point in your relationship, the real test came when the rest of Stray Kids found out.

It happened during a casual group hangout at their dorm. You and Hyunjin had been careful to keep your relationship private, but apparently, not careful enough.

“You two are acting weird,” Felix said, narrowing his eyes as he watched you and Hyunjin sit suspiciously far apart on the couch.

“Weird how?” Hyunjin asked, feigning innocence.

“Weird as in, you’re trying too hard not to look at each other,” Seungmin chimed in, smirking.

Before you could deny it, Changbin leaned forward, his eyes sparkling with mischief. “Wait a second. Did something happen between you two?”

Hyunjin sighed, running a hand through his hair. “Fine. Yes, something happened.”

Weeks after the public reveal, life settled into a new rhythm. You and Hyunjin were still navigating the world as a couple, balancing the constant demands of work and your blossoming relationship. The attention from fans and the media was overwhelming at times, but you had each other to lean on.

One quiet afternoon, you were at a cafe, sharing a rare moment of peace away from the chaos. Hyunjin was sitting across from you, fiddling with his phone while you sipped on your iced coffee. The soft hum of conversation and the sound of clinking cups created a comforting atmosphere.

“I’ve been thinking about something,” Hyunjin said, looking up from his phone.

“Uh-oh,” you teased, raising an eyebrow. “What’s going on in that head of yours?”

He smirked, clearly amused by your reaction. “I’m serious, okay? We’ve been at this for a while now faking it, being real, all of it. But... I want more. I want to know what it’s like when there’s no pressure. No cameras, no fans, just you and me.”

Your heart skipped a beat at his words. “More?” you repeated, your voice soft.

He nodded, setting his phone aside. “Yeah. More dates without anyone watching. More lazy days where we can just be ourselves. I want to take this slow, but also, I don’t want to waste any more time pretending it’s not real.”

You felt a warmth spread through you, the sincerity in his voice making your chest tight. “I want that too,” you whispered.

The smile he gave you in return made you feel like the luckiest person in the world. He reached across the table, taking your hand in his. The simple gesture felt more meaningful than any grand declaration.

“Then it’s settled,” he said, squeezing your hand gently. “No more pretending. Just us.”

And as you left the cafe, hand in hand, it felt like the first step toward truly being yourselves—no more masks, no more facades.

Of course, even though you and Hyunjin were more serious than ever, that didn’t mean the teasing from the members stopped. If anything, it got worse.

One evening, after a long day of practice, the Stray Kids members were all lounging around in the dorm, taking a break. You and Hyunjin had just come back from a walk, still holding hands when you entered the living room.

“Look who it is, the couple of the century,” Changbin teased, wiggling his eyebrows.

“Shut up,” Hyunjin grumbled, trying to hide the blush creeping up his neck.

You rolled your eyes, though you couldn’t help but smile. “You guys are the worst.”

Felix grinned, giving you a knowing look. “We just need to see if you two are as cute off-camera as you are on. I’m still waiting for a public kiss, you know.”

You shot him a glare, but Hyunjin wrapped his arm around your shoulders, pulling you closer. “Maybe we’ll give you a kiss when you stop being so nosy,” he said, his voice teasing.

“Oh, that’s it,” Han chimed in, making a face. “I’m going to vomit.”

You laughed, your hand slipping into Hyunjin’s as you sat down beside him. “You’re all insufferable.”

“They just want to see how sweet you two are together,” Seungmin said with a smirk. “But I have to admit, it’s nice to see Hyunjin like this. He’s never been this... open.”

your heart fluttered at his words, and you looked up at Hyunjin, who was now giving Seungmin an exaggerated side-eye. “Don’t make it sound like I was some mystery,” he said, though the grin on his face betrayed him.

You smiled softly, feeling your heart swell at the thought of how far the two of you had come. What started as a simple arrangement had evolved into something deeper, something real, and the teasing, while relentless, only made it feel more genuine.

One rainy afternoon, as you were curled up on the couch in your apartment, Hyunjin walked in with an envelope in hand, a mischievous glint in his eyes.

“What's this?” you asked, sitting up and eyeing him curiously.“It’s a surprise,” he said with a wink, handing you the envelope.

Inside was a ticket for a private art exhibit that was being held at a museum in the city. The exhibit was a collection of works from various contemporary artists, and it was known for being intimate, with only a handful of people allowed in at a time.

“I got us tickets,” Hyunjin said, his voice soft. “I know you love art, and I thought it’d be a good way to spend some time together, away from everything else.”

Your heart melted. “Hyunjin, this is so thoughtful.”

He smiled, looking pleased with himself. “I figured it would be something different. Plus, we get to walk around the exhibit hand-in-hand without worrying about paparazzi or cameras.”

You couldn’t help but grin. “You really do know how to surprise me.”

As the two of you spent the afternoon wandering through the quiet halls of the museum, talking about the paintings and sculptures that caught your eye, you felt the world outside fade away. It was just the two of you, sharing something special, and it felt perfect.

Later that evening, after a quiet dinner, Hyunjin walked you back to your apartment, his hand still holding yours tightly.

“Thanks for today,” you said, your voice soft as you glanced up at him. “It was one of the best days I’ve had in a while.”

Hyunjin smiled down at you, his eyes warm and full of affection. “I’m glad. I’ll always find ways to make you happy.”

And as he kissed you gently under the dim light of your apartment hallway, you knew he meant every word.

Months passed, and your relationship with Hyunjin only grew stronger. There were still moments of teasing from the members, still the occasional bout of nerves before public appearances, but through it all, you both knew one thing for sure: this wasn’t just an act anymore.

One evening, as the two of you sat together on the rooftop of the dorm, gazing out at the city lights, Hyunjin turned to you with a serious expression.

“You know,” he began, his voice thoughtful, “when we first started this, I never thought we’d end up here. But now, I can’t imagine my life without you.”

Your heart skipped a beat, and you reached over, taking his hand. “Me neither,” you said softly. “I think I’ve always known it was real, even if I didn’t want to admit it.”

Hyunjin smiled, leaning in to kiss you. “Then let’s make it real—forever.”

As you kissed him, the world around you faded, and in that moment, nothing else mattered.

The End... or perhaps just the beginning.

[nomie-11]

Vi x Reader - Piltover's Princess

masterlist!

The first time Vi saw you, she had to do a double take, and then a triple take. Jayce Talis’ little sister, Piltover’s Princess. She was smitten. 

“Cupcake, who is that?” She whispered with a nudge, not taking her eyes off of you as you crossed the room, a light and polite smile on your face. 

“Hm?” Caitlyn turned her head to match Vi’s view. “Oh? Y/n? She’s a friend of mine.”

A brief moment passed where Vi tried to think of the proper words to say, but her mind was blank, not working properly at the sight of your radiant eyes. 

“Do you think she’s gay?”

Caitlyn nearly spit out her wine. 

—————————————

The second time Vi saw you, it was at one of Piltover’s extravagant galas. The kind where everyone looked like they were dipped in gold and smelled of old money. Vi hated these events, but Caitlyn had insisted she come along. 

And there you were again. Standing near the balcony, your laughter ringing like bells over the dull murmur of ancient politicians and annoying industrialists. The soft moonlight spilling through the glass doors made your skin practically glow. Vi nudged Caitlyn, harder this time. 

“She’s here,” Vi hissed, eyes glued to you like you were the only thing in the room. 

“Yes, she’s here,” Caitlyn replied, sounding mildly amused. “She’s Jayce’s sister, Vi. Of course she’s here.”

“Yeah, but why didn’t you tell me she’d be here?” Vi complained, fidgeting with the cuffs of her jacket. 

“Vi, you look like you’re about to fight someone,” Caitlyn teased. 

“I’m not! I just–” Vi trailed off as you glanced int their direction, your striking eyes meeting hers for the briefest second. Her heart did a strange little flip. 

You smiled—a small, knowing thing—and waved. 

Caitlyn, ever observant, caught the way Vi stiffened and the faint flush creeping up her cheeks. She grinned to herself. 

“Go say hello,” Caitlyn suggested, nudging Vi toward you. 

“Wait, what? No, I can’t just—”

But it was too late. Caitlyn had already started toward you, leaving Vi no choice but to follow. 

“Y/n,” Caitlyn greeted warmly as she reached you, her voice smooth and composed. “It’s lovely to see you tonight.” 

“Caitlyn!” you said, your face lighting up at the sight of her. Then your eyes flicked to Vi. “And…?” 

“This is Vi,” Caitlyn introduced, her tone just a little too casual. “A close friend of mine.” 

You raised an eyebrow, your smile turning playful. “A friend, huh?” 

Vi’s throat suddenly felt dry. She extended a hand, trying to keep it cool. “Vi. Nice to meet you.” 

“Likewise,” you said, taking her hand. Your touch lingered just a second longer than necessary, and Vi was certain she saw something mischievous flicker in your eyes. 

Caitlyn cleared her throat, drawing your attention back to her. “You look stunning tonight, Y/n,” she said, her voice softening just slightly. Then she leaned over to Vi, pretending to cough as she whispered: “Come on, idiot. Compliment her.” 

“Yeah,” Vi managed to squeak out. “Your-uh-dress! It’s really pretty.” 

Vi felt like she was drowning under the weight of your attention. You were polite, elegant, and… absolutely enchanting. 

“Thank you, Caitlyn, and thank you as well, Vi,” you replied, a faint blush rising to your cheeks. “You’re both too kind. And you clean up nicely yourselves.” 

Vi could swear her cheeks were as pink as her hair, and she didn’t even get a direct compliment from you. 

“So,” you said, tilting your head, “what brings you two to a place like this? Surely not the riveting conversation?” 

Caitlyn chuckled, her eyes sparkling. “No, just the usual obligation. Though it’s not all bad now that you’re here.” The grin on Caitlyn’s face was mischievous as she glanced over at Vi, a flustered look on the fighter’s face. 

Vi shot Caitlyn a look back, feeling completely out of her depth. You, however, seemed delighted by the interplay between them, your gaze flitting between the two with interest. 

“Well,” you said, taking a step closer to Vi, your smiling widening, “maybe I’ll make your evening a little less boring.” 

Vi’s heart practically stopped.

—------------------------

The third time she saw you, it was a rare day off for Vi, and she’d planned to spend it aimlessly wandering the bustling streets of Piltover. Caitlyn had tagged along, insisting she needed to check on a few vendors for some ongoing investigation. Vi didn’t mind; Caitlyn’s company was always better than being alone. 

What she wasn’t expecting was to see you standing at a flower stall, holding a bouquet of brightly colored violets. 

“Oh no,” Vi muttered under her breath, instinctively ducking behind Caitlyn. 

“What is it now?” Caitlyn asked, turning to follow Vi’s line of sight. The second she spotted you, she smirked. “Oh, it’s Y/n. Why are you hiding?” 

“I’m not hiding,” Vi lied, her broad shoulder still visible behind Caitlyn despite Caitlyn’s towering figure. 

“Sure you’re not.” Caitlyn adjusted her posture just slightly to block Vi further, her own tone suddenly a little too casual. “Though I can’t imagine why you’re panicking. She looks quite lovely today.” 

“She’s always lovely,” Vi grumbled, her face heating up. “And she’s coming this way.” 

Before either of them could think of a plan, you spotted them and lit up. “Caitlyn! Vi!” You called out, making a beeline for them with a bouquet in hand. 

Caitlyn straightened immediately, all poise and grace. “Y/n! What a surprise to see you here.” 

“Is it?” you teased, tilting your head. “This is the main market street, after all.” 

“Right, of course,” Caitlyn said with a small smirk. 

Vi, still half-hiding behind Caitlyn, managed a weak wave. “Hey.” 

You raised an eyebrow, amused by Vi’s sudden shyness. “Hi, Vi,” you said, stepping closer. “You’re not much of a flower person, are you?” 

“I—uh—” Vi stammered, looking desperately at Caitlyn for help. 

“She’s more of a practical type,” Caitlyn interjected smoothly, clearly enjoying Vi’s discomfort. “Tools and gadgets—although her name is Violet.” 

“That makes sense,” you said, smiling at Vi, who looked like she was about to combust. “But they’d suit you, you know. A little color never hurts.” 

Vi’s brain short-circuited. Caitlyn, sensing her friend’s distress, stepped in with a quick change of subject. “And the flowers? Are those for someone special?” 

Your smile turned coy. “Maybe.” you glanced at Vi, who looked ready to fall through the cobblestones, and added, “You’ll have to wait and see.” 

As you walked away, bouquet in hand, Ciatlyn turned to Vi with a smirk. “Smooth.” 

“Shut up,” Vi muttered, watching you disappear into the crowd with a dazed expression. 

—-----------------------------

The next time they saw you, it was at a small, high end cafe where Caitlyn had insisted on dragging Vi for lunch. Neither of them expected you to stroll in, dressed casually but no less stunning, and immediately notice them. 

“Mind if I join you?” you asked, already pulling out a chair before they could answer. 

“Of course not,” Caitlyn said quickly, nudging Vi under the table when she failed to say anything. 

Vi, startled out of her trance, nearly knocked over her glass of water. “Uh, yeah! Totally fine. Sit—uh—sit down.” 

“I already am,” you said with a laugh, clearly enjoying her awkwardness.

The conversation started simple enough, with caitlyn asking about your family and Vi chiming in with the occasional comment. But then the server arrived, setting down the menus, and things quickly spiraled.

“What can I get you?” the server asked, turning to Caitlyn first. 

“I’ll have the house special,” Caitlyn said smoothly, handing back the menu. 

“And for you?” the server asked, looking at Vi. 

Vi froze, realizing that she hadn’t even opened her menu. “Uh… I’ll have what she’s having.” 

The server nodded and turned to you. “And you?” 

You smiled. “Just the tea for now, thank you.” 

Once the server left, you looked at Vi with a playful grin. “Didn’t peg you as a house special kind of girl.” 

Vi shrugged, trying to act cool. “Yeah, well, it sounded… special.” 

Caitlyn, meanwhile, was barely hiding her laughter behind a perfectly polite hand. “Smooth, Vi. Very smooth.”

“Oh, leave her alone,” you said, your voice warm as you reached across the table to lightly touch Vi’s hand. “I think it’s endearing.” 

Vi immediately went red, her brain short-circuiting again. Caitlyn raised an eyebrow at you, clearly nothing the way your gaze lingered on Vi a moment too long. 

The rest of the meal was a blur for Vi, who barely managed to form coherent sentences. By the time you excused yourself with a wink and a promise to “see them soon,” Caitlyn leaned back in her chair, smirking at Vi. 

“You’re hopeless,” Caitlyn said with a smug grin, sipping her tea. 

Vi groaned, burying her face in her hands. “I know.”

-------

If you enjoyed this one shot, please check out my other series!

[stalkedbytrains]

[Behold! More! As requested by a lovely person on my kofi]

It had been a weird week if you're being perfectly honest.

Your usual bread guy was held hostage by one of the new weird upstart villain that has been bucking the trend of signing up with the Villain Union, so you didn't have the good sourdough for a few days. Which would have been fine if you had the time to make it yourself but you haven't had the time. And honestly your sourdough isn't nearly as good as Jesse's.

Fearsome Night has been coming in as something of a weird regular. He's... not subtle.

And you don't want to cast aspersions on anyone, especially a super villain. But like... he came in whatever he considers his non-villain persona to scout the place, and it was clear that he was a super villain.

He might as well have had the newspaper with the eyes cut out for as subtle as he was being in your shop.

Still ordered the Equinox and chips.

And, again, he was extremely not subtle, since someone in front of him ordered the Fearsome Night with "extra fearsome" he let out a loud whoop that he utterly failed as disguising as a cough.

If you didn't know any better, you'd suspect that he was waiting to see if Equinox would come in and order from you.

He didn't, at least not while Fearsome was lurking around.

Adrienne Moore did come in and get a double Vestige on rye though. The entire shop went eerily silent as you made the sandwich. She was intimidating as hell. And it was interesting to see Fearsome make eye contact and not react or do anything to notorious rule breaking hero.

You could have sworn there was some recognition there.

No one in the shop dare commented on her ordering the sandwich named after her infamous villain mother.

At least Adrienne tipped super well. Always did.

Eventually Fearsome Night didn't come in for a few days, and you were honestly a little grateful. This weird energy he was bringing in was not making for a healthy working environment and you don't know how chummy you want to get with a super villain.

Finally at the end of the week, you were close to finishing up for the night. You needed to bag up the last of the day old bread to take to the local homeless shelter, mop, and then lock up.

The bell over the door rang and in walked Equinox of all people.

You tried to bite your tongue, you really did, but you hadn't managed to fully leave 'customer service' mode yet.

"Hey there, haven't seen you in a little bit. You good?"

You shouldn't have asked. You shouldn't have opened that door.

Very rarely will someone see the opening created by small talk and just answer honestly. It's always off-putting.

"Yeah, been busy. You know, the job," they say as they gesture to their elaborate costume.

You nod politely. "Usual?" you ask to try and shift the subject but somehow you know that it isn't going to work.

"Yeah, Fearsome Night on sourdough."

You grimace. "Out of sourdough this week. Sorry. My guy got held hostage by Siege Works or whatever that new guy was that took over the library. He's taking some time off to recover and stuff."

"Damn that villain! He can't stop until he ruins everything he touches!"

"Sorry. I can do any of the other usual breads."

"Fine, can I get it with rye then?"

"Sure," you mutter and try to distract yourself with the sandwich crafting.

"Yeah I was going to come in," Equinox says to fill the dead air, "but I saw Fearsome Night was here. So I thought it would be awkward if I ordered his sandwich in front of him."

"Yeah... he's been something of a regular this week. He's ordered like 12 sandwiches from me this week."

"Really? Do I want to ask?"

You plead, beg, silently, that they don't ask what you know they are going to ask.

"What sandwich does he get?"

You look up from the mostly completed sandwich. You hope that your look is conveying enough sad pleading to get them to relent the question. You don't want to be in the middle of this. It's so weird. It's awkward.

But they don't relent.

"He's a vegetarian apparently so he gets and Equinox. Anyways! Here's your," you say. As you hand them the sandwich and start to say the name outloud when who should bust in, causing the bell over your door to dance and happy little jingle.

"Fearsome Night," all three of you say at the same time. No one else adds the "on rye" but you do.

"I KNEW IT!" he shouts.

"Don't read into this! They make a great sandwich!" Equinox says, trying to defend themself.

"Yes I do," you say at the same time that Fearsome Night says, "Yes they do!"

"YOU LIKE ME! I mean... YOU LIKE MY SANDWICH!" Fearsome Night declares.

"We're closing soon. I have to mop," you say, but no one is paying attention.

"That doesn't mean anything! Don't you dare think any more of this!" Equinox counters.

"It's going to be eight dollars. Here's your chips."

"HA! YOU EVEN LIKE BARBECUE CHIPS! THE MOST SUPERIOR CHIP FLAVOR!"

"What does that even have to do with anything?" Equinox counters.

"It doesn't," you mutter, even though neither of them is paying attention to you.

"IT HAS EVERYTHING TO DO WITH!"

"TO DO WITH WHAT?"

"I KNEW THERE WAS SOME SEXY KIND OF SPARK HERE! WHEN WE FOUGHT BY THE LIGHT HOUSE LAST YEAR!"

"WHY DO YOU ALWAYS SHOUT?"

"STOP DEFLECTING THE QUESTION!"

"Mister Fearsome Night," you try to interject and get nowhere.

"You are insufferable!" Equinox says.

"You like it!" Fearsome Night counters.

"GUYS!" you finally shout. They turn to you as if they just now realized that you were still there. "I'm closing shop now. Here's your Equinox and chips. Here's your Fearsome Night and chips. This is on the house. Now please leave."

"I DID NOT ORDER A SANDWICH!"

"I KNOW!" you shout back. "But now you don't have an excuse to not sit and eat together. There's a nice secluded little park a block north. Now I really have to mop so I can go home and shower!"

"OH! Uh... thank you," Fearsome Night said awkwardly.

Equinox took their own sandwich with some reluctance and a little shame, like they had just gotten caught doing something embarrassing.

"Thank you," they muttered.

"Yes, yes, you're welcome, now please, please leave. And I swear if you ever do this kind of thing in my shop again I will ban both of you from ever returning. And you may be thinking 'oh this cute and very talented sandwich maker can't ban a super villain and super hero from their shop who do they think they are to challenge us?' I want to remind you that I have a standing order for Mariana and their whole entourage. And Dayline comes in every Sunday for a coffee and a breakfast sandwich. If you want me telling my best costumers why they might not be getting their stuff, try me."

Suddenly both supers were very humble.

"Thank you," they both say quietly.

"Go. Eat. I'll see you later," you say as you push them fully out the door.

The bell jingles as the door settles into it's closed position.

You turn the lock, and flip the open sign to closed. The last thing you hear is, "I guess we should go to the park?"

"I HEAR IT IS LOVELY THIS TIME OF NIGHT!"

You own a sandwich shop in the heart of a superhero city. After gaining customers by making sandwiches based on heroes, you decided to try making some based on villains. Today, a villain stopped to review theirs.

[pbaz7]

AGAINST THE TIDE: PART SEVEN

paige x azzi

warnings: mention of drug use, sexual content

word count: 8.3k

A/N: This chapter has a few different time jumps so don’t skip over the dates lmao or you might think things are moving a little fast. Everyone’s been asking for this so here it is 🫣. I know emotions are going to be all over the place reading this one so please humor me with some live reactions 😭

—————————————————————————

February 2022

It had been about a month of the same awkward, unspoken limbo between Paige and Azzi. To anyone with eyes, it was painfully obvious the two of them liked each other—more than liked each other—but neither had made an outward move. They didn’t need to say it out loud to know why. Things between them would be complicated, and complications weren’t something either of them could afford right now.

Azzi was back on the court, fully cleared and playing with the same intensity she had before she got injured. Paige, meanwhile, was still stuck on the sidelines, a couple of weeks away from her own return. She hadn’t let that stop her from being Azzi’s biggest supporter, though. If anything, she threw herself into it even more—watching film with Azzi late into the night, breaking down plays for her, doing anything she could to make her job easier on the court. They had also gotten back into the habit of going to the gym together all the time at all hours of the night.

Overall their routine hadn’t changed much, but something beneath it had. The soft flirting they used to do had picked up and Paige quickly learned just how handsy Azzi was, how affectionate she was, how she would purposefully bite her lip while looking up at Paige. For Paige, it was becoming almost physically painful to be around Azzi without saying something—without telling her just how much she liked her. It was there in the way her heart raced when Azzi laughed, in the way her chest ached when their hands brushed accidentally. But every time the words hovered on the tip of her tongue, she swallowed them back down, convincing herself it wasn’t the right time. Knowing they had a silent agreement.

Azzi, for her part, seemed oblivious to how much Paige was feeling—or maybe she was just better at hiding it. Hiding just how much she felt too. She was her usual steady self, focused and unflappable, though there were moments when her gaze lingered on Paige just a little too long, or her smile softened in a way that felt almost too tender.

Now, as they sat in Paige’s dorm, that same quiet tension hung between them. The TV played in the background, but neither of them was paying attention. Azzi’s fingers absentmindedly played with Paige’s, a habit that had started sometime over the past few months and somehow became a comfort for both of them. Paige’s gaze dropped to their hands, watching the way Azzi’s fingertips traced the curves of hers.

Something about it—about her—felt so intimate, so significant in Paige’s life—that made Paige’s heart race and ache all at once. Her eyes hesitantly drifted to Azzi’s face, taking in the way her soft smile lit up the room. It was the kind of smile Azzi always gave her, warm and easy, but this time Paige’s stomach flipped, her heart pounding harder.

Azzi noticed the shift in her demeanor immediately, her smile faltering slightly as her brows knitted together. “What’s up, P?” she asked gently, tilting her head to study Paige’s expression.

Paige’s lips parted as if to answer, but no words came out. She turned her gaze away, her heart hammering too loudly in her chest for her to think straight. “It’s nothing,” she muttered, shaking her head.

Azzi’s fingers stilled against hers, and she shifted closer, her tone soft but persistent. “Hey… talk to me. What’s going on?”

Paige hesitated, glancing down at their hands again. She exhaled a shaky breath before finally lifting her eyes to meet Azzi’s. Her voice was barely above a whisper. “Az, do you like me?”

Azzi froze, her breath catching at the unexpected question they had been dancing around. For a moment, she didn’t know what to say, completely caught off guard by the fragile, hesitant way Paige had asked. Her heart stuttered as she processed the weight behind the words.

“Of course I like you, Paige,” she finally said, her voice soft but steady.

Paige bit her lip, her gaze dropping for a moment before she looked back at Azzi, her eyes searching. “Then why don’t we ever talk about it?” she asked, her voice cracking slightly.

Azzi blinked, struggling to find the right words. She glanced away, running her thumb over Paige’s knuckles before meeting her gaze again. “Because I’m scared,” she admitted quietly.

Paige’s brow furrowed, her chest tightening. “Scared of what?”

Azzi hesitated, her own heart racing now. She could feel the vulnerability in her chest, raw and exposed, but something about the way Paige looked at her—so open, so unsure—made her want to be completely honest.

“I’m scared of how you make me feel,” Azzi said, her voice barely above a whisper. “I’m 19 and I’ve never felt this way about anyone before. It’s like… it’s like I’ve known you my entire life. Like everything before UConn, me not being able to stand the sight of you, you being the rudest person I’d met didn’t happen. And that scares me, P. It scares me that all I remember about you now is this charming, sweet, beautiful version of you that I just got to know.”

Paige’s lips parted slightly, her breath catching as Azzi’s words washed over her.

Azzi looked down at their hands, her voice trembling slightly. “But I’m also scared that if I admit why I feel this way… if something goes wrong… I’ll lose you. And you’re not just… this person I like, Paige. You're not just one of my teammates. You’re my best friend and I can’t mess that up.”

The confession hung in the air, making the air heavy. Paige’s heart clenched, her throat tightening as she processed Azzi’s words. Paige’s lips curved into a small, nervous smile, her cheeks faintly flushed as she tightened her grip on Azzi’s fingers. Her voice was soft, almost timid, as she said, “I like you too, Az.”

Azzi’s lips twitched into a smile, the corners quirking up slightly. She tilted her head, a playful yet knowing glint in her eyes. “I know you do,” she whispered, her tone light but her gaze warm, almost tender.

Paige let out a soft, breathy laugh, but it quickly faded as her mind went elsewhere. Her gaze flickered to Azzi’s lips for the briefest moment before her eyes found hers again. “I really want to kiss you. I always want to kiss you,” she admitted, her voice barely audible, as if saying it too loudly might shatter the delicate moment between them.

Azzi’s fingers stilled against Paige’s. For a second, the idea tempted her, pulling at her heartstrings, imagining how soft Paige’s lips would be against hers, but she exhaled slowly and shook her head gently. “We can’t, P,” she said softly, her tone firm but kind.

Paige’s brows furrowed slightly, and Azzi didn’t miss the flicker of hurt that flashed in her eyes. It was gone almost as quickly as it appeared, but it lingered enough to twist something in Azzi’s chest.

Paige looked down at their hands, her voice quiet but insistent as she voiced the real reason neither of them ever mentioned their feelings. “Teammates date all the time, Az. It’s not like it would be a big deal.”

Azzi gave her a sad smile, squeezing her hand lightly. “But they also break up all the time,” she said softly. “And then things get weird all the time. And someone ends up having to leave, most of the time.”

Azzi paused, glancing away as if gathering her thoughts. When she looked back at Paige, her gaze was steady, though her voice remained gentle. “I like it here, P. I like it here with you. With the team. And…” She hesitated for a moment before continuing, “I’ve wanted this—playing at UConn—since I was a kid. It was all I dreamed of and I don’t want to lose that.”

Paige’s lips parted as if to respond, but Azzi beat her to it.

“I don’t want to lose you, either,” Azzi said, her voice quiet but earnest.

Paige’s chest ached at the sincerity in Azzi’s words, and for a moment, she didn’t know what to say. Then, her lips curved into a small, bittersweet smile. “Who said it would be you that left?” she asked softly.

Azzi’s expression softened even further, her eyes locking with Paige’s. She shook her head slightly, her voice calm and sure. “You’re Paige Bueckers,” she murmured. “It’s gonna be me.”

The words hung in the air between them, the few words saying everything Azzi didn’t need to explain. Paige hummed quietly, her lips pressing into a thin line before she leaned forward, resting her cheek gently on Azzi’s head.

That was all Azzi needed to say as their conversation tapered off, the silence that followed filled with unspoken understanding. Both of them knew what was at stake, and though it hurt, there was a quiet agreement between them—a fragile truce between their hearts and their reality.

Azzi’s hand returned to Paige’s, her fingers resuming their slow, absent-minded play. Paige’s gaze flickered toward the TV, though she wasn’t really watching the movie anymore as her mind wandered. She sighed softly, letting herself relax against Azzi as she kissed the top of her head.

April 2022

It was April now, and the season had officially come to an end. They lost in the championship, though no one talks about that. They’re all just trying to move on and enjoy the time they have left with the seniors. The two of them had barely spoken about their feelings for one another since the night in Paige’s dorm. Nothing had changed between them, but at the same time, everything felt different. The way Paige looked at Azzi with her blue eyes made her breath catch in her throat everytime and every time she would play it off by pushing Paige’s face away mumbling something she would never clarify. Paige was basically whipped and would do anything Azzi asked without hesitation and everyone noticed.

Now, they were lying in Azzi’s room, the faint hum of Paige’s playlist filling the quiet space. Paige was stretched out on her stomach, scrolling aimlessly on her phone, while Azzi sat cross-legged at the head of the bed, twisting a strand of her hair between her fingers.

Paige glanced up, her brows furrowing as she caught the nervous energy radiating from Azzi. The girl was unusually quiet, her eyes flickering toward Paige every few seconds before darting away again.

Setting her phone aside, Paige shifted to sit up. “Okay, what’s going on? Seriously, Azzi, why are you being so weird today?”

Azzi froze, her fingers stilling in her hair. Her jaw tightened as if she were trying to hold something back, but after a long pause, she exhaled sharply and blurted, “I have a date.”

For a moment, Paige didn’t react. She couldn’t have heard her correctly as the words hung in the air between them, and then, slowly, she processed them and the impact hit. Her body stiffened, and she immediately sat up straighter, instinctively leaning back a little to stand up.

“Oh,” Paige said softly, her voice clipped. She tried to mask the hurt, but her expression betrayed her. The usual flicker of pain in her eyes was brief, but this time it lingered and it twisted something deep in Azzi’s stomach as she looked at her..

“Wait.” Azzi reached out quickly, her hand wrapping around Paige’s wrist before she could pull away completely. “Please don’t do that. Sit back down and just listen.”

Paige hesitated, her gaze hardening slightly as she stared at Azzi’s hand on her wrist. “Do what?” she asked, her tone sharper than she intended.

Azzi softened her grip, but she didn’t let go. “You know what I mean,” she said quietly. “Don’t pull away from me.”

Reluctantly, Paige let herself sink back onto the bed, though the tension in her shoulders didn’t ease. “So...you have a date,” she said, forcing the words out as if testing how they sounded in her mouth. “That’s great, Az. Really. Good for you.”

Azzi sighed, sensing the sarcasm, but she ignored it. “Paige,” she said, her voice quieter now. She shifted closer, still holding Paige’s wrist as if afraid she might bolt. “I just need you to be my best friend and support me in this just for tonight. No matter how much neither of us wants this.”

Paige’s laugh was sharp and humorless. “Why are you even going, then?” she asked, her voice rising slightly.

Azzi’s jaw tensed, and for a moment, she didn’t respond. Her gaze dropped to their hands, where her thumb traced absent patterns on Paige’s skin. “Because I need to at least try,” she admitted finally, her voice trembling with vulnerability. “I need to at least try to figure out if anyone else can make me feel the way you do. Feel even a fraction of what you make me feel.”

Paige inhaled sharply at this, her chest feeling almost painful as she listened to Azzi. She turned her face away, but Azzi wasn’t having it. Her free hand came up, gently cupping Paige’s cheek and guiding her back. Their eyes met, and Azzi’s own gaze softened.

“These silent feelings between us hurt too much, P,” Azzi whispered, her voice breaking slightly. “So I need to at least try. So I know what I need to do.”

Paige’s jaw tightened, her eyes glistening with unshed tears at the simple thought of Azzi being with someone else. At the thought of Azzi still needing to figure things out when Paige knew exactly how she felt. Her voice was barely above a whisper when she nodded and said, “Fine.”

Azzi swallowed hard, her hand dropping back to Paige’s. “So tonight you’re just going to be my best friend. You’re going to help me get ready,” she continued, her tone firm but gentle. “You’re going to tell me if I look nice enough before I leave. And when I come back, you’re going to let me tell you about it. Good or bad.”

A tear slipped down Paige’s cheek and she felt so damn dramatic, but Azzi didn’t mind as she caught it, her touch lingering. “Can I meet them?” Paige asked, her voice a little hoarse.

Azzi’s smile softened as she nodded. “Of course.”

For a moment, they simply sat there, the silence between them louder than the music playing softly in the background. Paige’s shoulders sagged slightly as she leaned back, letting Azzi hold her hand for a little longer.

…

Azzi stood in front of her closet, two shirts in hand, her nerves bubbling just beneath the surface. She wasn’t even nervous about the date. She was nervous she would hate it, nervous what it meant for her and Paige. The knock at the door hadn’t come yet, but she knew it was only a matter of minutes. She turned to Paige, who sat quietly on the edge of the bed, hands clasped in her lap as her gaze lingered somewhere near Azzi’s shoes lost in her own thoughts.

Holding up both shirts, Azzi cleared her throat. “Which one?” she asked softly, her voice laced with hesitation. “The red or the white?”

Paige blinked, her head lifting as she regarded the options. She pointed to the red shirt after a moment, her voice steady but quieter than usual. “Red. It makes your eyes look...brighter.”

The comment hit Azzi harder than Paige intended. Her heart ached, but she swallowed it down, nodding as she turned back toward the closet. “Red it is,” she murmured, her voice barely audible.

Paige’s eyes followed Azzi as she changed into the chosen shirt, her movements slow and deliberate. She tried not to let her emotions show, but the faint furrow of her brows and the way she pressed her lips together betrayed her.

When Azzi finally turned around, fully dressed, Paige’s breath caught for a moment. She offered a soft, sad smile that didn’t quite reach her eyes.

Azzi hesitated before stepping closer, the space between them narrowing until she was standing between Paige’s legs. She placed her hands gently on Paige’s shoulders, the warmth of her touch seeping through the fabric of Paige’s sweatshirt.

“I’m sorry, P,” Azzi whispered, her voice cracking slightly. Her dark eyes searched Paige’s face, pleading for understanding.

Paige looked up at her, her lips parting as if to respond, but no words came. Instead, she reached out, her fingers lightly brushing against the edge of Azzi’s shirt. Finally, she spoke, her voice barely above a whisper. “You look beautiful, Az.”

The sincerity in her tone made Azzi’s chest tighten. She opened her mouth to respond, but before she could, a sharp knock echoed through the room.

The sound was jarring, cutting through the moment like a blade. Azzi flinched slightly, her hands still resting on Paige’s shoulders as her gaze darted toward the door.

Paige’s hand fell back into her lap, and she looked down, her expression unreadable. Azzi hesitated, torn between the pull of the person waiting on the other side of the door and the weight of the person sitting in front of her.

Paige and Azzi knew it was only one day. They knew it was just a few hours. But they also knew that the outcome of these few hours could change a lot for them so it felt much heavier than it needed to.

After a beat, she took a deep breath and squeezed Paige’s shoulders gently before stepping away. “I...should get that,” Azzi said.

Paige nodded, her eyes never leaving the floor. “Yeah. You should.”

Azzi lingered for a moment longer, the silence between them heavy, before turning toward the door.

A few moments later Azzi walked back into the room, her keys in hand and her purse slung over her shoulder. Paige hadn’t moved an inch from where she was sitting on the edge of the bed, her hands clasped tightly in her lap as her gaze stayed fixed on the floor.

Azzi paused, watching her for a moment before breaking the silence. “Do you still want to meet him?”

Paige’s head lifted slightly, her brows furrowing. “Him?” she repeated, her voice tinged with surprise.

Azzi nodded, noticing the surprise in Paige’s voice. “Yeah... him.”

Paige blinked, the answer catching her off guard. For some reason, she had assumed Azzi’s date was a girl. She wanted to stay put, to ignore the question and let Azzi walk out the door, but the subtle look in Azzi’s eyes—uncertain, almost pleading—made her sigh.

Without a word, Paige pushed herself off the bed, her movements stiff and reluctant. She followed Azzi down the hall and into the living room, her stomach twisting the closer they got.

When they stepped into the room, Paige’s eyes landed on a guy sitting on the couch. He stood up as Azzi approached, a friendly but slightly awkward smile on his face.

“Derrick,” Azzi said, her voice a little hesitant as she gestured between them. “This is my best friend, Paige.”

Derrick looked between the two of them, his confusion evident, though he masked it quickly. “Uh, nice to meet you,” he said, holding out his hand.

Paige stared at him for a moment before sticking out her own hand, her grip firm as they shook. “Paige,” she said simply, her tone polite but distant.

“Derrick,” he replied, his smile still in place, though it didn’t quite reach his eyes. Why the hell was he meeting a best friend?

Azzi’s gaze flickered between them, her discomfort evident. Paige released Derrick’s hand and took a small step back, tightening her jaw as she glanced at Azzi. “Well,” she said, her voice clipped, “have fun.”

Azzi nodded, but as she turned toward the door with Derrick, she glanced back over her shoulder. “You’ll be here when I get back, right?”

Her voice was soft, almost pleading, as she looked at Paige with eyes she could never say no to. So she swallowed hard, her expression unreadable at the thought of just sitting here waiting for Azzi to get back from a fucking date, but still, she gave a small nod. “Yeah. I’ll be here.”

Azzi lingered for a moment, her eyes searching Paige’s face as if she wanted to say something more. But then Derrick shifted beside her, and the moment was gone. She turned back toward the door, leading Derrick out with a quiet goodbye.

As the door clicked shut behind them, Paige exhaled, sinking back onto the edge of the couch. The silence in the apartment felt deafening, and all she could do was sit there and wait for Azzi to come back with a decision.

…

Paige lay sprawled on Azzi’s bed, her arm resting over her eyes, but when the door creaked open, she shifted slightly, glancing up to see Azzi walking in. She didn’t say anything, and neither did Azzi at first. The room felt still, with unspoken words.

Azzi took a hesitant step forward, her voice soft as she broke the silence. “Thank you for staying.”

Paige gave her a small, tired smile, but her lips remained sealed. Azzi studied her for a moment before letting out a quiet sigh. She slipped off her shoes and dropped her bag near the door, walking over to sit on the edge of her bed.

The movement made Paige sit up, her legs crossed as she now faced Azzi. The quiet stretching between them until Paige finally asked, “So... how was it?”

Azzi laughed, though the sound carried more exasperation than amusement. “It was... exhausting.” She shook her head and reached for Paige’s hand, running her fingers lightly over the soft skin. “His hands were really hard.”

Paige chuckled, the corner of her mouth quirking up. “Hard hands, huh? What a dealbreaker.”

Azzi laughed again, this time more genuine. “Yeah, and he talked too much. Like, nonstop. It was giving me a headache. And he had so much energy.” She glanced up at Paige, a teasing glint in her eye. “Kinda like you, but... I didn’t like it when he was doing it.”

Paige laughed softly, though there was still tension in her frame. “So, hard hands and a chatterbox. What else?”

Azzi paused, her fingers tightening slightly around Paige’s. Her voice dropped a little as she continued. “He tried to kiss me.”

Paige froze, her jaw tightening, though she tried to keep her expression neutral. “Did he?” she asked, her voice carefully even.

Azzi shook her head, squeezing Paige’s hand to ground her. “No. I didn’t let him.”

Paige’s shoulders relaxed slightly, though her eyes still searched Azzi’s face. “You didn’t want to?”

Azzi shook her head again, her gaze soft but steady. “No... I didn’t want to kiss him.”

The words hung between them, heavy and loaded with everything unsaid. Paige swallowed hard, her free hand playing with the comforter beneath them. “Why not?”

Azzi looked at her then, her eyes brimming with an emotion Paige couldn’t quite place. “Because he’s not you. I don’t want anybody but you,” she said, her voice barely above a whisper.

Paige’s chest felt tight at the words, her heart pounding as she held Azzi’s gaze. After a beat, she murmured, “I’m going to kiss you now Az.”

Azzi’s breath hitched, her lips parting slightly. “No, you’re not, Paige. We talked about this,” she said, her voice trembling. But there was no conviction behind her words, only a faint tremor of fear.

“Yes, I am,” Paige replied, her voice firmer this time, her gaze unwavering.

Azzi swallowed hard, her eyes darting between Paige’s eyes and her lips. “Paige...”

Paige leaned in just a fraction, her voice softer now but still resolute. “Azzi.”

Azzi’s breathing quickened, her pulse racing as her name fell from Paige’s lips. She didn’t say anything else, her silence speaking louder than words.

Paige hesitated for a moment longer, searching Azzi’s face for any sign of hesitation, any sign showing she didn’t want this. When all she saw was a mixture of nervousness and longing that was all the confirmation she needed.

Slowly, she leaned in, her movements deliberate and careful. When their lips finally met, it was as if the world around them fell away. Paige’s lips were soft, warm, and hesitant, testing the waters as if afraid to break the fragile moment.

Azzi sighed into the kiss, her hand coming up to cradle Paige’s face immediately as their lips moved together in perfect rhythm. Paige’s lips were impossibly soft which didn’t surprise her and Paige swore she could taste the faintest hint of the pineapple lip gloss Azzi always wore.

The kiss wasn’t rushed or messy. It was tender, filled with every unspoken word they’d held back for months. Paige’s hand slid up to cup Azzi’s cheek, her thumb brushing against her skin as if trying to memorize the feeling.

As they continued to kiss Azzi felt something shift deep within her, like she’d discovered a missing piece of herself in this kiss. Her fingers curled into Paige’s hair, pulling her closer as if she didn’t want her to ever let go.

After their lips finally part, they stay close, foreheads resting together as they catch their breath. Neither of them says anything at first, the silence filled with the weight of what just happened. Paige finally whispers, “That felt… right.”

Azzi lets out a shaky laugh. “It did. That’s the problem.”

Paige pulls back slightly, searching Azzi’s face. “Why does it have to be a problem? We can figure it out Az, teammates really do date all the time.”

Azzi sighs, running a hand through her hair. “They do, but it’s never simple. It changes things, P. And I don’t want us to get... messy.”

Paige frowns, her voice softer now. “It doesn’t feel messy. It feels... easy.”

Azzi smiles at her, almost wistfully. “Until it’s not. And I like us a little too much, Paige. I don’t want to lose us.”

Despite her words, Azzi doesn’t pull away completely. Instead, she stays close, her fingers tracing soft patterns along Paige’s wrist. “I’m not saying we stop, though.”

Paige raises an eyebrow. “What does that mean?”

Azzi bites her lip, looking a little shy as she speaks. “I don’t want to stop kissing you. Or touching you. I just... we need to figure this out without rushing into something we can’t handle.”

Paige hesitates, then nods. “So... no labels.... this?”

Azzi smiles, leaning her forehead against Paige’s again. “Just this. For now.”

July 2022

Those two words—“just this”—became the foundation of what they shared for the next few months. They didn’t need a label to define the intensity of what they felt for each other. It was in the stolen glances and whispers during events, the playful nudges when they just wanted to touch each other in public without drawing too much attention, and the way their hands would linger just a moment too long when ‘helping’ the other with something.

When they weren’t surrounded by teammates, they were all over each other, sneaking away for stolen moments whenever they could. Any excuse to feel the press of their lips, the warmth of the other’s skin, was enough. It was like they craved one another in a way neither of them had ever experienced before.

A few of their teammates had definitely caught on—walking in on them tangled up on the couch looking a little too disoriented or catching them whispering a little too closely in the locker room. But no one said anything, at least not directly. Paige and Azzi kept it to just kissing, though, never crossing the boundary they both silently agreed to respect.

Late one night, in the comfort of Azzi’s room after another heated make-out session, they found themselves lying side by side, breathless and grinning. Azzi, her cheeks flushed, tilted her head toward Paige and asked with curiosity, “How did you not have sex before I got here? You were at UConn a whole year without me. I’ve seen people throw themselves at you.”

Paige laughed, her eyes twinkling with amusement as she propped herself up on her elbow. “I used to be a robot, remember?” she teased, grinning. “No time for distractions when I was locked in..”

Azzi chuckled, rolling her eyes. “Yeah, but even robots can have moments.”

Paige smirked, leaning down to press a kiss to Azzi’s forehead. “Hm, guess I was just waiting for the right person then.”

Their connection had grown deeper with every passing day, and though they’d never said the words out loud again, both knew it was more than just physical. But that’s all they chalked it up to being for now.

Now they were back home in the DMV, where the familiarity and privacy of their hometown gave them a sense of freedom they didn’t have anywhere else.

Paige’s car was parked in their usual spot near a waterfall, the soft hum of Steve Lacy’s new album filling the quiet night air. They found it by accident once when they were looking for the parking lot of a kicking trail. It had become their place—a quiet escape from everything else. The faint rush of water mixed with the lingering scent of smoke from them smoking, something Olivia had introduced them to before she graduated. They didn’t do it often, but tonight felt right.

Paige was relaxed in the driver’s seat, her posture lazy, exuding effortless confidence. She was kind of manspreading, her grey sweats riding low on her hips, and her tank top pushed up just enough to reveal the band of her boxers. Her wavy hair was undone from the braids she’d taken out earlier, and her blue eyes were low and rimmed with a little red from smoking. Her gaze was locked on Azzi. The stupid, lopsided grin she always wore only made her look better.

Azzi sat leaning against the passenger door, her head resting on the cool glass as she tried to focus on what Paige was saying. Or at least, she thought Paige had been talking. Truthfully, Azzi hadn’t been listening for a while. Her gaze kept drifting, tracing the way Paige’s exposed skin looked and how the tank top clung to her, how casual she looked yet somehow so put together. She noticed every detail—the rise and fall of Paige’s chest, the way her fingers tapped idly against her knee, the curve of her lips when she smiled.

She was startled out of her thoughts when Paige’s voice cut through the haze, soft and teasing. “Why you all the way over there?”

“Huh?” Azzi blinked, her cheeks warming as she realized Paige was smirking at her.

Paige leaned back even more, spreading her arms over the top of the seat like she owned the world. “I said, why you all the way over there?” she repeated, gesturing lazily toward Azzi’s position against the door. “I been tryna talk to you.”

Azzi rolled her eyes, though the corner of her mouth twitched. “You’re so annoying,” she muttered, trying to sound unaffected, but Paige’s smirk only grew.

“Yeah ok” Paige said back, her voice dropping just enough to make Azzi’s stomach flip. “Why you here with me then? Wassup with that?”

Azzi shrugged, turning her gaze toward the windshield to avoid Paige’s lingering eyes. “Maybe I just didn’t want to hurt your feelings,” she teased, her voice steady despite the heat rising in her cheeks.

Paige let out a soft laugh, low and warm, the sound wrapping around Azzi like a blanket. “Oh, you’re doing me a favor now huh? That’s cute.” She tilted her head, studying Azzi with a playful intensity. “But you didn’t answer my question. Why you sitting all the way over there like I’m some stranger?”

Azzi hesitated, shifting in her seat. “I’m not—”

“Yes, you are,” Paige interrupted, her grin turning mischievous. She patted the console beside her. “C’mon. What, you scared of me now or something?”

Azzi scoffed, trying to ignore the way her heart was racing. “Scared of you? Please,” she said, forcing her tone to stay light.

Paige raised an eyebrow, her expression daring. “Then come here ma,” she said simply, her voice soft but commanding.

Azzi glanced at her, debating whether to give in or keep playing it cool. “You’re annoying, you know that?” she muttered as she slid across the console, settling closer to Paige.

Paige leaned slightly toward her, the distance between them now almost nonexistent. “You came over here didn’t you,” she teased, her voice dropping into a whisper.

Azzi rolled her eyes again, though it was more out of nervousness than annoyance. “Only because you wouldn’t shut up about it,” she said, trying to sound nonchalant.

“Sure,” Paige said, drawing out the word as her lips curved into a smirk. “You definitely didn’t just want to be closer to me. Totally makes sense.”

Azzi narrowed her eyes, leaning back slightly to create some space. “You’re so full of yourself Paige.”

Paige laughed, the sound low and teasing. “Am I wrong, though?” she asked, her blue eyes locking onto Azzi’s. “You’ve been staring at me all night. Don’t think I didn’t notice.”

Azzi froze for a moment before recovering, her voice sharp with mock indignation. “I was not staring!”

Paige tilted her head, her grin widening. “Mhm. Sure you weren’t.” She leaned in just a little closer, her voice dropping lower. “It’s okay, Azzi. I get it. You can just tell me you want me.”

Azzi opened her mouth to protest, but Paige’s hand moved, brushing against Azzi’s chin and tilting her face up. The playful glint in Paige’s eyes softened, replaced by something deeper, something that made Azzi’s breath hitch.

“See? Not so scary,” Paige murmured, her thumb lightly grazing Azzi’s jaw.

Azzi swallowed hard, her pulse quickening as the teasing tension between them shifted into something heavier. “I hate you,” she whispered, though her voice betrayed her, trembling just enough to make Paige’s grin return.

“And you’re blushing,” Paige countered, her voice soft and teasing as her face moved even closer.

Azzi could feel Paige’s breath now, warm and tantalizing. “Shut up,” she managed to say, though her words held no weight.

“Make me,” Paige whispered, her lips hovering just above Azzi’s.

And then, before Azzi could respond, Paige closed the gap, capturing her lips in a kiss that was soft at first but quickly deepened. Azzi melted into it, her hand instinctively reaching for Paige’s arm, anchoring herself as the world seemed to fall away, leaving just the two of them and the sound of the waterfall in the background.

The kiss was slow but deep, each movement deliberate, the effects of them smoking clear in the way their lips brushed languidly against each other, their tongues tangling slowly. It was intoxicating, neither of them wanting to pull away, but when they finally did, Azzi leaned back against the passenger door, her breathing uneven.

Paige didn’t say anything, but her smirk said it all. Her lips were slightly swollen, glistening in the dim light, and Azzi couldn’t help but think about how annoyingly good she looked. Paige leaned back against the driver’s side door now, her posture relaxed as she let her eyes rake over Azzi without any attempt to hide it.

Azzi shifted under the weight of Paige’s gaze, finally breaking the silence. “Stop looking at me like that.”

Paige chuckled, the sound low and lazy. “Like what?” she asked, though the mischievous tilt of her head made it clear she knew exactly what Azzi meant.

Azzi narrowed her eyes, trying to keep her voice steady. “You’re eye-fucking me, Paige.”

Paige’s grin widened as she shrugged, entirely unbothered. “And?” she replied, her tone dripping with nonchalance, her eyes locked on Azzi.

Azzi narrowed her eyes, struggling to maintain her composure. “And you need to stop,” she said, her voice firmer than she felt.

Paige tilted her head back against the driver’s seat, her smirk deliberate. “No, I don’t,” she shot back smoothly, her confidence filling the small space between them like a slow burn.

The weight of Paige’s gaze made Azzi shift, her thighs pressing together as she crossed her legs in an attempt to quell the heat rising in her. Paige noticed immediately, of course. She always noticed the effect she had on Azzi. Her smirk deepened, and her eyes gleamed with satisfaction.

They stared at each other, the tension palpable. Then Paige broke the silence, her voice dropping lower, softer, almost like a confession. “You’re sexy.”

Azzi froze, her breath catching as the words warmed her entire body. The sincerity and heat in Paige’s tone made her heart pound, leaving her momentarily speechless.

Paige leaned forward slightly, the intensity in her gaze almost unbearable. “You have no idea what I wanna do to you all the time,” she murmured, her voice tinged with awe.

Azzi didn’t answer. She couldn’t. Instead, she found herself leaning forward too, drawn in by the gravity between them. Her hand moved almost on its own, resting against Paige’s thigh as her eyes dropped to Paige’s lips.

Paige noticed the hesitation and closed the distance herself, capturing Azzi’s lips in a kiss that was slower but hungrier this time. It was as if the compliment had ignited something in both of them, and they poured all of it into the kiss.

Azzi sighed softly against Paige’s mouth, her hand sliding up from Paige’s thigh to her hip, her fingers curling into the fabric of Paige’s tank top. Paige groaned quietly, a sound Azzi always loved to hear. Paige’s hand found Azzi’s jaw as she deepened the kiss, tilting her head to taste more.

When they finally pulled apart, their breaths were shallow, their foreheads resting against each other. Paige’s lips were swollen again, glistening in the dim light, but this time, Azzi didn’t look away. Her dark eyes stayed locked on Paige’s, and there was no mistaking the spark of something deeper in her gaze.

Azzi swallowed hard, her voice soft but steady when she finally spoke. “Let’s get in the back.”

Paige’s eyes widened slightly, tracing every detail of Azzi’s face as if searching for any hesitation. She knew exactly what Azzi meant by that, and the weight of the moment settled between them. “You sure?” Paige asked quietly, her voice careful and almost reverent.

Azzi nodded, her lips twitching into a small, confident smile. “Yeah, I’m sure.”

It took all of two seconds for Paige to push her seat forward and climb in the backseat, her movements quick but measured. Azzi followed without hesitation, and before Paige could even settle fully, Azzi was there. She straddled Paige’s lap with ease, her legs on either side of the older girl as her hands rested on Paige’s shoulders.

Paige leaned back slightly against the seat, her hands instinctively finding Azzi’s hips to steady her. She looked up at Azzi, her blue eyes soft yet filled with an intensity that sent a shiver down Azzi’s spine.

“You’re gonna be the death of me,” Paige murmured, her voice low and teasing, though the sincerity beneath it was undeniable.

Azzi smirked, her hands sliding down Paige’s arms until her fingers laced with hers. “Guess we’re even, then,” she whispered, leaning down just enough for their noses to brush.

Paige chuckled softly, her grip on Azzi’s hips tightening as she let her eyes drift over Azzi’s face, soaking in every detail. “Come here,” she murmured, her voice barely above a whisper, but it carried a weight that made Azzi’s breath hitch.

Azzi didn’t hesitate, closing the small gap between them as their lips met again, this time with more urgency. The kiss was deeper now, fueled by the intimacy of their new position. Paige’s hands slid to Azzi’s ass, pulling her closer as if the small space between them was unbearable.

Azzi shifted slightly, her body fitting perfectly against Paige’s as the kiss grew hungrier, more consuming. It wasn’t just about the physical connection anymore—it was the unspoken understanding between them, the trust and care they had built over months finally coming to the surface.

Paige pulled back just enough to catch her breath, her lips brushing against Azzi’s as she whispered, “You’re incredible, you know that?”

Azzi smiled softly, her forehead resting against Paige’s as she replied, “You make me feel like I am.”

Paige’s heart swelled at the confession, and she tightened her hold on Azzi, leaning up to kiss her again, slow and deliberate, savoring every moment.

They continued to kiss, the rhythm of their lips synchronized as Azzi gently moved her hips, trying to get closer to Paige, to feel her more. Every shift brought them that much nearer, the heat between them escalating with each subtle motion. Paige’s hands stayed on Azzi’s butt, pulling her even tighter as she squeezed, if that was even possible. Their kiss deepened, more frantic now, their shared breaths mingling between the fervent exchanges.

When they finally pulled apart, both of them were gasping for air, their chests rising and falling in unison. Paige’s gaze swept over Azzi, her heart racing. She wished she could freeze this exact moment in time—this version of Azzi. The long goddess braids she had gotten over the summer were tilted to one side, a few strands loose, framing her face. Her lips were swollen, a telltale sign of their heated kiss, and her eyes—those deep, warm brown eyes—were low with desire, the slight speckles of red still lingering from earlier.

Azzi smiled down at Paige, her expression soft yet knowing, as if she could read the thoughts running through Paige’s mind. Before Paige could even respond, Azzi’s lips found her neck, pressing soft, teasing kisses along the sensitive skin there, making Paige’s breath hitch.

The sensation was electric. Paige’s head instinctively rolled back against the seat, her hands tightening on Azzi, a soft, almost inaudible sigh escaping her lips. Azzi’s kisses grew more insistent, trailing up to the sensitive spot just below Paige’s ear, making Paige’s eyes flutter shut. She couldn’t help but moan softly as Azzi’s lips worked their magic.

Paige’s hands slid up Azzi’s hips, pulling her closer as if trying to bring her even further into the moment. “Azzi…” Paige breathed out, her voice barely a whisper, laced with both desire and disbelief. “God, you’re so…”

Azzi chuckled softly against her skin, her hands resting on either side of Paige’s face, gently guiding her chin back so their eyes could meet. She looked at Paige, her brown eyes dark with unspoken affection, a hint of a smirk on her lips as she whispered, “I know.”

The warmth from her words hit Paige harder than any kiss. It was a feeling that went deeper than desire. It was comfort, understanding, and the raw honesty between them. Paige smiled, her heart swelling, as her hands cupped Azzi’s face, pulling her into another kiss, this one slower, but no less intense.

Azzi eventually pulls away from the kiss, her lips brushing softly down Paige’s jaw before she grabs Paige’s hand, guiding it easily toward her. The look on Paige’s face is pure awe as Azzi slides Paige’s hands into her shorts and puts Paige’s fingers inside her herself—her eyes heavy with desire, a subtle tension in her jaw, and a hint of something deeper that makes Paige lose her mind. Azzi’s expression shifts her eyebrows furrowing at the new feeling as she leans back slightly, letting out a soft, breathy sigh that carries the weight of her unspoken thoughts.

Paige watches, completely entranced, as Azzi’s jaw drops just slightly. After she’s acclimated to the feeling her hips begin to move in slow, deliberate circles, drawing out a soft whimper from her lips—an involuntary sound that makes Paige’s chest tighten. The noise is so intimate, so raw, it echoes in the car, mixing with the steady rhythm of Azzi’s breath.

Paige’s breath hitches as Azzi leans back more, the motion drawing a deep, almost melodic groan from her, her hips still moving in a steady rhythm against Paige. "God..." Azzi whispers, the sound escaping her like it’s the only word she can form. Her hands grip the seat, fingers digging in as her breath comes out faster, warmer, the pace of her movements increasing just enough to make Paige’s heart race. Another sound slips from her—low and needy, a soft gasp as her hips shift again, making the air feel thick with anticipation.

Paige watches, mesmerized, not even realizing she’s supposed to be participating anymore. She’s completely lost in Azzi—her gaze trailing over her face, watching her lips part as another small moan escapes. Azzi’s eyes lock onto hers, dark and heated, as she continues to move her hips, her breath quickening. The faintest trail of a whimper follows, rising in pitch, but it’s quickly stifled by a soft, desperate sigh as Azzi shifts her body closer to Paige, creating a tension that wraps around them both.

The sounds continue—Azzi’s hips grinding slowly, her breath coming out in shaky, needy gasps. She exhales sharply, a soft, pleading sound leaving her mouth as she leans back just enough to deepen the way Paige’s fingers feel, creating a slow, undeniable pressure in the air. Her sounds—soft whines, quiet groans, and breathy sighs—are so intoxicating, so raw, that Paige can hardly breathe, let alone move.

"Azzi..." Paige’s voice trembles with desire, barely audible over the intensity of what she’s witnessing. Her eyes stay glued to Azzi, transfixed by the way she’s moving, her body begging for something more as the heat in the car rises with every sound, every shift of Azzi’s hips.

Azzi looks down at her with a knowing, intense gaze, and Paige can feel her heart racing in time with Azzi’s movements. She’s lost in the rawness of it all—the sound, the look, the feeling—as Azzi’s body moves against hers with a quiet desperation, each sound marking the space between them like a rhythm that only the two of them understand.

Azzi’s gaze locks with Paige’s, her breath shaky as she leans in closer, her lips brushing against Paige’s ear as she whispers, her voice breathy and laced with anticipation, “What exactly did you want to do to me?”

Paige’s breath catches in her throat, the sound of Azzi’s voice making everything inside her feel warm. It’s as though the spell that had been cast over her is broken. Her body reacts instinctively, and with a sharp intake of breath, Paige takes control. She slides her free hand to the back of Azzi’s neck, pulling her closer, crashing their lips together in a more urgent kiss than before. The kiss is deep and slow, laced with the power of the question Azzi had just asked.

Azzi's breath quickens as Paige starts moving inside of her, the balance of power shifting as Paige’s fingers move with more confidence, pushing Azzi’s body closer to hers. The energy in the car shifts as their kiss intensifies, moving beyond just desire.

The album continues to play softly in the background, the mellow tones of Steve Lacy’s voice creating a calm, almost hypnotic atmosphere as they lose themselves in one another. The windows of Paige’s Jeep fog up from the heat building between them, the condensation on the glass becoming a blur of the world outside, leaving only the two of them in their own space, their own universe. The world beyond the car doesn’t matter anymore.

For hours, they drift in and out of each other’s embrace, neither one of them paying attention to time. The soft, steady rhythm of the music plays on as they explore every inch of the moment, every whisper and touch, the sensations of being so close to each other for the first time pulling them deeper.

The hours slip by unnoticed, the tension between them never quite breaking, just ebbing and flowing with each kiss, each gentle caress as they explore one another completely.

…

The air in the car is sticky with the aftermath of what just transpired, the faint sound of Steve Lacy finally being turned off as Paige sits back in the driver’s seat, her lips curling into a smirk as she glances over at Azzi, who’s adjusting her clothes, her body language still completely relaxed from their time in the backseat. Paige lets out a slow breath, clearly pleased with herself.

“So…” Paige begins, her voice low and teasing. “How was that?”

Azzi, still catching her breath, looks at her with a knowing grin. “You tell me.” Her tone is just as confident now, the playful challenge in her eyes matching the sharpness of her words. “I don’t think I’ve ever heard you say ‘fuck’ that many times before.”

Paige chuckles, her smirk widening. “I didn’t know you could scream that loud,” she says, her voice dripping with mischief.

Azzi rolls her eyes, unbothered by the teasing, though a faint blush creeps up her neck. She doesn’t say anything back, the silence settling between them in a comfortable way.

But when Azzi looks back at Paige she finds the blonde looking at her the same way she was before—undeniably intense, eyes filled with that same hunger as if they didn’t just go for hours. It’s the same gaze that got Azzi in the back seat in the first place.

Azzi arches an eyebrow, lips curving into a small, knowing smile. “You can’t look at me like that all the time now,” she says, her voice teasing yet laced with a hint of warning.

Paige just grins, her eyes never leaving Azzi’s. “I’ll try my best,” she replies, her voice low but full of promise. As she says this, she reaches over to fasten Azzi’s seatbelt, her fingers brushing lightly against her exposed skin. As the belt clicks into place, Paige leans in and presses a lingering, soft kiss to Azzi’s lips before she fastens her own seatbelt.

The car pulls out of the spot, the engine humming softly as they start the drive back to Azzi’s place.

[pboogerswbb]

SO IT GOES - chapter 6

Paige Bueckers x oc Warnings: language, sexual content and language, being sick? overthinking? p being melodramatic Wordcount: 4.4K A/C: was feeling inspired :)) anyway pls be patient with me posting, i'm applying to schools rn!! anyway this went a direction i hadn't planned but... uhh... i have no excuses i was going with the flow. anyway enjoy x (also what a scare yesterday just hoping p is doing fine and i'm sure everything's okay!)

-

Before London

You need a ride to work tmr?

I don’t but thank you x

My eyes roam the texts as they had repeatedly since last night, trying to decipher each letter as if some ancient code I couldn’t understand. Is she seriously gonna be like that? Like she wasn’t the one who pulled me in. She kissed me. Why was she taking it out on me now? I don’t got time for this anyway, to be stressing about something like this. 

I hadn’t seen Izara since Saturday, not at work, not in the apartment building, hell, I’d even gone to the gym every morning praying that she might show up but it was as if the girl had disappeared from the face of the earth. I knew she was avoiding me, and I guess she had reason but fuck, I thought she’d be better than that. Not a word since Saturday, other than those strange cryptic texts. Fine. Be that way.

“My favourite girls!!” Trey’s voice blatantly interjects my spinning thoughts as me, Arike, Satou and Lou are sat at a circular table, eating lunch. Not that I had been eating per say, more so poking my fork here and there trying to stomach a piece of chicken now and then. The heaviness in the pit of my stomach made it hard to eat at all.

I lift my eyes, hoping Izara would be trailing behind the man as usual. But it’s Ava instead, holding a notepad and taking quick steps to keep up. I mean I knew it wasn’t Iz before even looking up - there was an uncomfortable void of heels tapping against the hardwood as the pair approach us eagerly.

“Oh hey!” Lou smiles from her chair next to me. “What’s up?”

“So we were thinking,” Trey starts, leaning forward against the table. “If y’all could film some clips answering comments on your own since our dear Zari isn’t here.”

“Uh, where is she anyway?” I ask as casually as I can - though the way everyone’s heads snap to me tells me it was a feeble attempt.

Trey’s dark brown eyes study me for a while with an expression I can’t quite read before answering. “She’s home sick, poor girl.”

Bullshit. She’s trying to avoid me, I know it. I can’t believe it, I thought she would be more mature than this, than faking being “sick” just to get away from an awkward conversation with me. Why was she assuming how I felt anyway? Like the kiss mattered to me? Like I’d want more?

I mean all that was true. God did it matter and God did I want, no, need more. Much more. But she didn’t know that, so why was she assuming. I thought we were friends. You know what this is? Bad friendship.

“Oh damn, hope she feels better,” Arike answers for me, noticing the way I’m gone in my thoughts.

“Y-yeah for sure,” I mumble, letting out a frustrated sigh. “I’mma go to the weight room.”

I place the fork down on my half eaten plate harshly, getting up abruptly making my irritation quite clear to everyone around me.

“Paige you gotta eat a little more,” Lou encourages but I shake my head.

“Nah, m’ not hungry,” I murmur and take my plate back, preparing to take out my aggravation at some weights, ignoring the way Arike and the rest of the girls eye me as I walk away.

-

“So how are we feeling about the first game soon?” My dad’s voice echoes through the speaker but I barely hear him, pacing my apartment’s living room. Truthfully I hadn’t thought much about the upcoming game. I knew that was bad. That I should be ecstatic, or scared as hell, but I didn’t feel anything else besides the dread of what happened between me and Iz. 

Matter of fact, I hadn’t been able to think of anything else but the way she looked all night, the way her green smoked out eyes twinkled at me, the way she threw her head back when she laughed at my jokes, when she pressed her front against me. The way her full breasts felt against my chest, the way her round ass felt under my hands. God, the whimper she let out when I squeezed it as gently as I could.

“Paige?”

“Uh what?” I mumble, ears burning, completely forgotten about the call with my dad.

“What’s going on with you?” His secure, steady voice asks, grounding me.

“Nothin’ dad,” I murmur, rubbing my eyes and looking out the window into the street, eyeing every dark haired woman just in case they were Izara.

“Paige Madison.”

I groan. I might be 23-years-old but my dad’s stern voice turns me into a teenager without fail each time.

“You’re comin’ to the first game still, right?”

“Yes, of course,” he says, like it’s obvious. “Why?”

“Nothin’, just miss you,” I mumble, coming up with an excuse for my low mood - though it wasn’t far off. Everytime I felt sad or anxious I just wanted my dad.

“I miss you too, kid. You know you just say the word and I’m there, okay?”

“No I know, I know. I’m just tired I think,” I sigh, my chest warming at my dad’s comforting words.

“Uh oh,” he starts. “Paige Madison… Don’t tell me.”

“Huh? Tell you what?”

“Is this about a girl?” He asks.

I pause, coming to a halt with my pacing. “Hu- I- What?!”

“You always say “I’m just tired” when you got a girl on your mind,” my dad laughs, doing a horrible impression of me.

“No!” I argue a little too fast and a little too passionately. “I mean, no. Just tired. Long practice.”

“Mhm alright,” my dad mumbles, an amused tone in his voice that irritates me in a way only a parent could. “So no girl?”

“No dadddd,” I whine like a teenage girl. “There’s no girl.”

I didn’t like lying to him. I wanted to tell him all about Izara. I knew my dad would adore that girl. He always said I needed a woman to keep me in check - Izzie did just that. But I also didn’t want to tell my dad about this girl knowing it likely wasn’t going to go anywhere, especially now that she had been hiding from me since our kiss.

“Okay dad tell Drew I said hi and I’ll play Fortnite with him tomorrow,” I say into the phone, ready to hang up.

“Okay kid, love you.”

“Love you dad.”

The silence is deafening, again. Like it used to be before I became friends with Iz. I felt alone, anxious, my head spinning with thoughts I couldn’t turn off. I thought she was mature enough to handle this like two adults. If she just wanted to be friends then she could just tell me, at least we could continue our friendship like that.

But usually when I kissed a girl, they didn’t run away like this. Quite the opposite. Did she not like the way I kissed? Was I off my game? Maybe the tongue was too much? Maybe she didn’t like my outfit. I’m a good kisser, I know I am. Good enough to get girls into bed with ease. So what is the trouble now? And I also know that that was the best kiss I had ever had. That our lips fit together just right. Fuck this girl had me going out of my mind. And now I just had to wait for her to reach out, it didn’t feel fair.

No. It wasn’t fair. Why did I have to wait for her? Who said I had to? Fuck that.

Too frenzied to even throw a shirt over my sports bra, I walk downstairs determined, knocking on Izara’s door angrily, preparing a speech of everything I’d been thinking the past few days: Look, Izzie, we’re both adults. You clearly think the kiss was a mistake. But avoiding me and acting like this is ridiculous and stupid and we don’t need to be acting like teenage-

“Paige?” 

Izzie opens the door, voice weak and nasally. She’s in a pale pink pyjama set, hair up in a clip and nose red and irritated. She wasn’t lying. Definitely not. She is sick. 

Quick, improvise.

“Uh, hey,” I mumble, my cheeks turning pink, her red eyes staring up at me reminiscent of Saturday night and the moments before our kiss on the balcony. “Trey told me you were sick.”

She chuckles, looking down at her dishevelled appearance and returns her gaze to me. “How did you know,” she jokes. She’s acting like nothing happened between us. How could she act like that? I guess it’s better than if she actually had been avoiding me.

“Was worried, haven’t seen you since… The party,” I say unsurely.

“Uh… Yeah. Crazy party huh,” Izzie says almost to herself. “Well, anyway, thanks for checking in but I’m perfectly okay. Just a cold and I think it’s passing.”

She begins to close the door but I grab it, holding it open.

“You been resting?” I ask concerned.

The girl shrugs. “Well at first but now I’m just getting bored so I’ve been doing some work from home.”

“Izzie…”

“What?”

“You gotta be restin’ if you’re sick,” I argue, which makes the girl roll her eyes.

“I’m fine Paige,” she answers, but I step inside.

“Let me in.”

“No, you’ll get sick,” she complains but I shake my head.

“I won’t. I’m built different.”

Izzie laughs, deciding it was pointless to try to argue and lets me in.

Her apartment is spotless as always, laptop open on her dining table with schedules and notebooks piled next to it. This bitch hadn’t been resting, no she’s been working and cleaning.

“Izzie!” I groan and close the laptop.

“Shoes! Shoes shoes shoes!” She yelps, voice breaking as she does. 

“‘M sorry!” I gasp and take my sneakers off quickly, placing them neatly by the entrance. I feel her eyes fixed on me. 

“Do you ever wear a shirt?” She asks, blowing her stuffy nose, which makes me let out a single laugh.

“Why, you want me to?” I ask confidently, easily falling into the same effortlessness as before.

My words make the girl blush. Perhaps the kiss wasn’t that bad? Fuck, I don’t know. Maybe I should just ask… Ask what?! If the kiss was good?! Bro… Get a grip.

“Well you’re going to get cold, it’s freezing here,” she tells me, turning away and walking to the couch where pillows are neatly arranged, an expensive looking blanket neatly folded on the armrest. I didn’t have the heart to tell her it definitely was not cold, that her apartment was scorching hot already making me sweat.

“Yo, you’re kidding right?” I laugh as I watch her somewhat pitifully curling up against the corner of the couch on her single throw pillow.

“What?”

“Iz, you’re sick!”

“Wow, thanks for rubbing it in my face,” she says nasally, blowing her nose again.

“Bro, that pillow is just sad! You need a nest,” I gasp, walking to her bedroom.

“Wait wait wait, it’s a mess in there,” she yelps, following after me. Mess, it is not. There is one hoodie on the bed, which is unmade. That’s it. I pull the heavy blanket off her bed, grabbing all four pillows and walking decisively to the couch with the dark-haired girl on my tail.

“What are you doing?” She asks as I begin to set up each pillow into a nest against the corner of the couch. She’s grabbing my arm and peeking at my actions from behind my back, clearly confused.

“I’m makin’ you a nest,” I explain, brows furrowing as I focus. This is serious business. “My stepmom does this when we’re sick.”

“A nest?” Izzie laughs.

“Yeah, get in,” I order, grabbing the girl’s shoulders and sitting her down. “Now lie back. Get comfy.”

Hesitating for a moment, Izzie curls up against the pillows as I place the blanket over her, watching as she gets comfortable with a smile on her face.

“There you go,” I coo, trying her forehead which is burning hot. “You have a fever Iz, I’m gonna get you some meds.”

“Paige, you don’t have to do this,” she sighs, looking up at me softly. I want to lean down and kiss her again. Instead, I bring my hand to her warm cheek, stroking it softly. She looks vulnerable, gentle for once. It made me want her even more.

“Lemme take care of you ma.”

She doesn’t comment on the nickname, matter of fact there’s a hint of a smile on her face when she nods. 

“The cabinet above the microwave.”

“Got it,” I tell her, pretty much scurrying to the kitchen, gathering everything you could think - water, painkillers, nose spray, I even cut up some fruit for her. But when I return the poor girl is in her nest, cuddled up, fast asleep. It hurts my heart to wake her up, but she needs these meds in her.

“Iz,” I murmur carefully, brushing dark locks away from her face. She blinks herself awake, rubbing her face. Everything about it makes me want to wrap her in my arms and never let anyone close in case they hurt her. 

“Fuck, I fell asleep,” she yawns. “I’m sorry I’m a mess.”

“You’re sick ma,” I remind her, sitting next to the girl on the couch and watching as she takes her medicine.

“This is so embarrassing,” she murmurs, sipping on the glass of water. Her cheeks are bright red, hair undone and eyes tired - I swear it’s the most beautiful I’ve ever seen her look.

“Izara,” I say sternly. “You’re sick, lemme help.”

“You’re gonna get sick too, and you have your first game soon love.”

“I’ll be fine, I got mad immune system powers.”

She giggles. “Immune system powers?”

“You heard,” I nod, fighting a grin. She coughs a little.

“Paige?”

Oh God. She’s gonna bring up the kiss now. I know it. I can feel it.

“Y-yeah?”

She takes a deep breath. “Can we watch Lady and The Tramp?”

-

“How are you already crying?” Paige asks with a giggle, leaning against the opposite corner of the couch. 

“Lady as a puppy always makes me cry! How could it not?” I sniffle, wiping my nose, watching the scene where Lady doesn’t want to sleep in her dog bed, the poor puppy crying for her dad. 

The blonde is chewing on an apple in her sports bra and black Nike sweats, muscles grown more prominent over her training period with the Wings, arms bigger, shoulders wider, outline of the muscles on her abdomen faintly visible even as she slouches. 

“What kinda names are Darling and Jimmy Dear anyway?” She asks, dramatically frustrated.

“Paige, you’re slow,” I laugh. “Lady thinks those are their names because they call each other those as like, pet names darling.”

The blond thinks for a while, and then grins. “Oh.”

We both burst into a choir of laughter, though it feels rough against my scratchy throat. Still, I could feel the medication already making me feel better. Or maybe it was the company.

My mind had been a mess after I escaped the party. I felt embarrassed, childish even for running away like I did, leaving Paige high and dry. Once I woke up the next morning it was hard to figure out what truly happened and what was my mind playing tricks on me. But I knew the kiss really took place the moment I remembered it, the weight of Paige’s kiss a mere memory on my lips. One wouldn’t forget a kiss like that. It was impossible.

Getting sick had been a lucky coincidence, giving me time to think and take some distance from the situation. I found it impossible to figure out where my desire for Paige and desire for physical contact differed. I couldn’t tell if I was just lonely. Or if I really liked her. I never considered it, me having feelings (if you could call it that) for a girl again. But now as she sat there, looking like that, I wanted nothing but to get on her. To climb onto her lap and kiss her again like we had on the balcony. Without the drunken hue, just us feeling each other.

Even as sick as I am, the familiar burn and ache that always showed up around the blonde begins to grow between my legs, making me squirm. Fuck, maybe I did like her. All I knew I definitely wasn’t in a place to start anything - that no matter what this was it would have to stay casual. I haven’t gotten rid of the ghost of my past relationship. No, not at all. I could see it looming around every corner, peeking through windows, just right outside my line of vision. I wasn’t ready.

Paige’s hand comes over to my bare feet poking out of the blanket, bringing them to her lap and beginning to rub them almost as if subconsciously, like unaware of the entire thing. Except her cheeks turn red as she does. My entire body relaxes, and I let her. For almost half of the movie she massages each toe, the arch of my foot, my ankle, leaving goosebumps everywhere. 

“I’m cold,” I complain, pulling my feet back under the blanket, feeling like a block of ice.

“I’m so hot,” Paige groans, now more invested in the movie, making small comments here and there.

“Lucky,” I groan which makes her snicker.

“Scooch,” The blonde tells me. Before I can resist she’s made her way under the blanket, into the nest, lying behind me and wrapping an arm around my waist. I fit in her arms perfectly, like I was made to be her counterpart, born to be in her arms like this, every curve of her body slotting with mine just right. My ass pressing into her, the blonde’s chin brushing against my shoulder, hot breath tickling against my ear nearly making me moan. Fuck.

“I- I thought you were hot,” I mumble, beginning to lose my composure.

“But you’re cold,” she murmurs into my ear, nose nuzzling into my hair as we keep watching the movie. Though I can’t concentrate. Even on my favourite movie. My head spinning too fast, speeding up even more when my pyjama top hikes up and Paige’s fingertips rub circles against my lower stomach, dangerously close to dipping into my pyjama pants.

“P-paige,” I almost whisper, my voice coming out breathy.

“Mhm?” The blonde’s voice is shaky too, a hoarse hum straight into my ear making me even wetter than I already am.

“You’re gonna get sick,” I remind her, my chest heaving.

“I’m good,” she breathes out, shifting a little, her head fitting just in the crook of my neck. Perfectly. “Are you?”

She’s asking for consent, I can tell. To dip her fingers underneath the band, to slide them into my panties. And God I want to give it to her. To let her have her way with me. The temptation is growing nearly impossible to resist.

“I-” I nearly say it. But then I shift to my back, to meet her gaze. Paige’s face is flushed, nostrils flaring as she breathes, hand remaining on my bare stomach. “How are you feeling about the game?”

“Oh, uhh,” Paige is taken aback, pulling her hand back to my dismay, bringing it to her jaw and rubbing it. “I mean, I haven’t really thought about it if I’m honest? I’m excited to see my dad and Dorka.”

“She went to Uconn with you, right?”

The blonde nods. “I mean issa big moment for sure, but I just wanna take it one day at a time.”

I hesitate. “Are you not nervous at all?”

She lets out a single laugh and looks around the room. “Nah I am. Just tryna keep my mind off it.”

I nod, understanding. I wish I could carry some of her worry, I could tell she was more nervous than she let on. But instead of talking I slide my hand into hers, which seems to comfort the girl more than words, her blue eyes locking with mine. She’s thinking, mulling something over in her head. I can tell.

“The party… Iz, I-”

“Shh,” I tell her before she can keep going, my throat going dry, the ache between my thighs nearly painful. I wasn’t ready to talk, at all. All I wanted was to feel it again, the weight of her lips on mine. So bad I felt dizzy.

“Nah, Izzie, c’mon. I think we both feel we-”

“Paige?”

“Yeah mama?”

“Kiss me.”

-

It makes no sense. But I don’t hesitate. Leaning down, my lips crashing into hers with such hunger it makes me uncharacteristically whine. My body is on fire, every inch burning up as our lips slide against one another, boxers growing damp quickly. My hand carefully holds her cheek, like the girl next to me might break. But to my surprise she pulls me on top of her by the back of my head.

I’m tasting for every inch of her, slowing down and taking my time, unlike that drunken mess on the balcony. Somehow this is even better, the kiss of the century even. Her body is cool to the touch, a sign of the fever going down. But I barely register, kissing her bottom lip affectionately, my hands holding her face. Izzie responds, her teeth pulling on my lip harshly making me groan. Her warm tongue brushes over it, soothingly.

I open my mouth further, my tongue meeting hers, other hand moving to the bare waist of the girl underneath me. I can’t believe this is real. That I’m kissing Izara. It feels like some type of dream, but the ache between my legs proves that every second is real. That she’s really underneath me. And If I’m feeling my core throbbing just from the kiss, I’m certain the dark haired girl feels something similar and the idea of my girl feeling such pain and not having it taken care of breaks my heart.

So my thumb dips underneath the band of her satin pyjama pants, feeling the lace of her underwear as it does. Zari lets out a shaky whimper, her eyes fluttering open.

“Paige,” she whines, brows furrowing.

“Yeah?” I ask breathlessly, leaning down to kiss under her ear which makes her squirm under my weight.

“C-can you keep your hands,” another moan as I suck on her neck, careful not to leave a mark. Izara didn’t seem like the type of woman you marked. “On top of the clothes.”

God she’s gonna be the death of me. But I oblige happily, pulling my hand back to her bare waist.

“Whatever you want Izzie,” I say between ragged breaths, making the girl moan as I keep kissing her neck. Izara’s hands wrap around my back, long acrylics scratching at the skin there.

“Shit,” I cuss under my breath, feeling like I might die or cum in my pants if I don’t get to have her. Still, I keep kissing her, fully aware what a privilege it was just to be on her like this. I do everything to try to stay composed, to keep my cool, to focus on putting on my best show as I return back to sloppily kissing her lips, shifting on top of her, my other hand beside Izzie’s face to hold me up. 

As I move my hips, my knee presses into her core, against the sheer fabric of the pajamas making her gasp straight into my mouth. I repeat the movement with purpose now, and can feel the heat radiating off her, the fabric between her legs growing damp. She wants this just as bad as I do.

“Lemme keep going, please,” I whimper, brows furrowed and barely conscious of what is happening at this point. “Lemme help ma, won’t even touch you.”

Her face is contorted with need, chest heaving desperately. 

“It hurts don’t it? Lemme help,” I coo, my lips wrapping around her earlobe and sucking softly. “Please.”

“Paige,” she whimpers, her body shaking with need. But I feel her shift, legs wrapping around my body. “Please.”

Oh God, I might actually cum in my sweats.

I kiss her all over, her neck, bare shoulders, mind spinning with need, my cunt growing wetter and wetter with every moan that leaves Izzie’s lips as I push my knee against her core, gently, so as to not hurt her.

“P-paige,” she moans my name. My name. 

“Ohh fuck,” I cuss, squeezing my eyes shut at the way her voice sounds, deep and gravelly, turning more high-pitched each time I grind my knee into her cunt.

“Let me get you right ma, please,” I beg breathlessly, shaking my head to myself trying to keep myself present. “Please, Iz, would do anything to fuck you,”

She’s speechless, whimpering desperately, but I can feel her muscles turning tense from the pleasure I’m giving her, legs shaking gently.

“Would be so good, just lemme eat that pussy,” I moan into her ear. “Gimme five.”

Pulling back, I meet her gaze. Her contorted face, dark brows furrowed and lips parted, green eyes blown out black. This is the most beautiful she has ever looked. Easily. Could look at her like this forever.

I can tell she’s considering, mulling it over in her head. Just as her lips part the ring of her phone interrupts the moment, the obnoxious sound blaring over the movie playing in the back. Of course. I can never have anything good. Just little tastes.

“Fuck,” Izzie mumbles and abruptly sits up as if suddenly thinking clearly. I climb off her, watching as she fumbles to find her phone.

“Here,” I catch it, handing it to her. It’s Kiran, her brother.

“Fuck, I promised I’d help him with his paper,” she groans, still trying to catch her breath.

“Uh, okay,” I murmur, attempting to catch mine, awkwardly shifting further on the couch, watching as the girl gets up and walks into the bedroom, closing the door behind her, leaving me there once again. Wanting more.

-

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[agnireed]

Rainfall

summary 🏹 you've convinced yourself daryl hates you and that only increases when you have to go on a run together

word count 🏹 9.8k

warnings 🏹 large age gap, daryl and reader are embarrassingly bad at feelings, slow burn, slightly ooc side characters (maggie and beth)

thank you to @sparklytyphoondaze for the suggested prompt!

You had almost started to think you were going crazy right alongside the state of the world. 

There wasn’t any other person, before or after that fall, that could bring you to the level of confusion and anger that Daryl Dixon managed to without fail every time you were forced to speak to each other. It was made even worse by the fact you had no idea what about you got him so upset.

You contributed to the group whenever you were needed and then some, you had never once insulted him or even sent a mean look his way unprompted and there was certainly no stand out event that had seared this bitterness into his mind. 

It seemed like he just hated you for no reason at all and this drove you insane in a way that you wish it didn’t. You didn’t necessarily fall under the belief that everybody had to like you but it really rubbed you the wrong way that somebody had decided they didn’t just because of the way you were.

At first you had figured it had to do with your young age but he didn’t sneer at Beth the same way he did with you and nobody else seemed to agree with your assumption whenever you pried them for any known information. 

You certainly had too much time on your hands these days at the prison because you had gone full blown investigator mode to try and figure out what you had been doing so wrong.

Maybe you reminded him of somebody from his past that he had a hard time with or possibly he found annoyance in the fact you managed to carry your love for all things pink and cute over into the apocalypse with you. You felt ridiculous for actually taking this to heart and you frowned at yourself in the mirror when you pulled a particularly beige tank top over your head instead of your typical blush colored ones. 

Daryl wasn’t going out of his way to be mean to you or specifically targeting you when he didn’t have to but a slightly annoyed glance from the man was enough to rattle you for the rest of the day, for reasons you didn’t really understand.

You prided yourself on being pretty tough and there was a lot you could handle before you even felt a twinge of upset but not when it came to the stoney archer. 

He was easy enough to ignore but that was full blown impossible whenever it came to Rick allowing you to do anything the other group members did. He would scoff angrily under his breath and storm off when you were assigned to go on a run and you’d see them having heated discussions whenever you were put on gate duty for long shifts. 

It was clear to you that he didn’t find you capable of helping out and although he never outwardly said it you knew that he felt uneasy trusting the lives of the others in your hands, marking you as a liability even though you’d never so much as tripped on a run let alone endangered people you considered family. 

“Am I really that bad?” You would have felt ridiculous for being so whiny but you knew Beth and Maggie were used to you coming into a cell with this exact tone by now. You had seen the look they shared when you flopped down onto the bed with a groan and now your eyebrows furrowed as you sat back up to face them. “What was that look?”

The younger of the sisters fell silent and she looked almost like she was holding in a laugh as she watched the side of Maggie’s face and waited for her to say whatever it was they were silently communicating. 

“Nothing honey it’s just…” Her familiar light twang was doing very little to soothe your worry and annoyance and you leaned in closer as she took a second to pause and stifle a building laugh. “Are you wearing brown?”

You froze as you processed her words before glancing down at the shirt you had thrown on today and groaning at the same time Beth was finally letting out an actual laugh. The sight of you in anything this shade was certainly unfamiliar and clearly a big enough deal that it was all they could focus on right now, ignoring your question you had originally asked in favor of making fun of you. 

“I don’t think his issue with you is you being girly.” Beth had a voice that couldn’t sound anything but sweet even if she tried so you took her statement as genuine reassurance even if she was still attempting to tease you. 

The pair had long been subjected to your ramblings about the older man and every little biting remark or disinterested stare he sent your way and they were just as stumped as you. Although they provided no solution for your issue it was still comforting to know you weren’t making it up and other people had noticed his distaste for you.

You sulked back to your own cell only an hour or two after joining the sisters and listening to them ramble about their own problems and thoughts, commonly occurring sessions where you could all get some things off your chest. It was a nice dynamic and you often felt touched by how easily they had brought you into the fold of their sisterly bond. 

Everybody in the group felt the same to you, love and trust apparent between each of you and then all together as a whole. There is nothing you wouldn’t do for the people inside these walls and you felt no doubt in them doing whatever it would take for you in return if and when you needed it. 

There was only one exception to this feeling and you were growing more and more frustrated by his refusal to bond with you, even if it was surface level.

You didn’t think Daryl would leave you without water if you were dying of thirst but you figured if it was in a high tree he might just tell you it wasn’t worth the effort.

Your theory was most likely going to be tested in some shape because Rick was approaching you the next day to tell you in the most stern voice he could muster that you would be going on a run. You could tell from the look in his eye that he was telling you this way because a certain somebody would be tagging along but you expected that it was just going to be the two of you on your own.

“Ain’t happening.” Daryl seemed just as dejected as you did at the news but Rick had apparently given him alot less time to be upset about it considering the words flying from his mouth when he saw you and your leader approaching him on his bike, already loaded up and at the gate ready to go. 

You sighed at the realization you were a surprise guest, annoyance in your gut knowing this would only further his hatred towards you.

“Who would you prefer?” Rick was spitting back at him in a half whisper like it would save you from being able to hear. You were even more hurt at the way he phrased it, clearly letting you in on the fact they had had this conversation before. “The cars can’t get through, not on that route.”

“I can ride a bike.” You weren’t sure why you had tried to help out with the slightly useless piece of information, knowing neither of them would ever let you go by yourself on a run let alone with Daryl’s bike. If either of them seemed surprised by the fact then they didn’t show it but his sneer turned to you faster than you could retract your suggestion. 

“Like hell you will.” He said it so harshly that you were almost taken back by it. He was never kind to you but it certainly hadn’t gotten to this point in quite some time and your eyes flashed with surprise as you took a few steps backwards so you were further behind Rick.

He watched you for a breath or two after that and you almost thought you saw regret passing over his face even though it was gone as quickly as it came once he faced Rick again. You were pushing yourself further back with another sigh so they could quickly have their biting conversation and get it over with. 

You’d already done the checklist in your head and realized there truly was nobody else who could both be on the back of his bike and also perform well in a run and it was only a matter of time before he understood that too. He was an asshole but he wasn’t unreasonable and you knew he wouldn’t completely abandon a run just because he didn’t want you coming along.

Your theory proved correct because soon enough you were settling yourself on the seat behind him and smiling tightly at Rick when he placed a hand on your arm, silently wishing you good luck with a firm nod.

You did your best to ignore his grumbles for you to hold on and luckily you had grown up on a bike and weren’t saying that for no reason so it was easy enough to sit still and not disturb him. There was a deeper bratty part of you that wanted to softly rock side to side just enough to get his attention and annoy him but you decided against it.

If he was going to dislike you then you wanted it to be a complete reflection of his poor character and nothing to do with you.

He was surprisingly docile for most of the long ride and even let you take a break on the side of the road midway through so you could both stretch your legs and avoid cramping up by the time you got there and actually had to be on high alert. 

“It’s a nice bike.” You felt stupid for speaking as soon as you heard the sound of your own voice and saw his head snapping up to look at you.

He was crouching down near it like he was investigating an issue but you knew he was just pretending to be busy to avoid the awkward silence or having to talk to you, two things that were currently happening thanks to your lack of impulse control.

“Sorry.” You were sighing and awkwardly looking away from him, taking a few steps closer to the tree line because how uneasy his strong gaze was making you feel. A rush of embarrassment overtook you and you strangely felt like you were going to tear up for some reason, pushing some loose rocks with your foot and glancing down the road. 

“S’all good.” He was finally responding and your eyes widened in surprise, glad to see he had looked away again just in time and didn’t see your reaction. “Was my brothers.”

“I remember.” Your voice was soft because you had actually known where the bike came from just from hearing him mention it a handful of times and you also knew enough to know why he tensed at the reminder that you had actually met his brother.

Daryl hadn’t been as docile then in his anger both towards you and everybody else and it felt like you got left behind with Merle on that rooftop when he decided to let down some of his walls and start trusting people. You weren’t a part of that equation which confused you even more now that you started to recall the earliest days of your meeting.

You had been pretty much the sole target of Merle’s disgusting rants about the women in the camp, making comments in passing about the others but really locking in on you whenever you were in his line of sight. He switched between degrading you and your ability to keep up with him and the men with you to just as quickly cat calling you and encouraging you to join him in camp.

There was a quickly built resentment towards him and his brother but the latter faded when you would catch Daryl defending you when he assumed you were out of earshot, at least the best he could without enraging his brother. 

He would tell him to leave you alone when he noticed his brother's hazy eyes zoning in on you like he wanted to approach or make a quick comment about how you were too young for him to be perving on you. All mild attempts to derail Merle’s small attention span but you appreciated the effort considering it was much more than the other men around camp would do and they didn’t have a reason to be cautious of the wild man like Daryl did.

That had all changed when Rick showed up and you felt a surge of hope as soon as you heard him addressing the group for the first time, solid and sturdy in his words even when he was allowing Shane to still bark the orders and have control.

You knew from the first day that you finally had somebody to take lead over your dire situation and you knew men like Merle Dixon would never bother you again.

No part of you thought Daryl was similar to his brother in any way but you still felt the same hurt regardless if it was intentional from his end. 

“C’mon.” He wasn’t giving you a response to what you had said and you were glad he hadn’t, much preferring the loud hum of the bike to help quiet your endless thoughts. 

This time he didn’t completely tense up when you were circling your hands around his waist and you were weirdly finding some comfort knowing he was with you when you thought back on those days at the quarry. Was there a different world where Daryl didn’t dislike you and kept up the protective streak he’d shown back then or was that sincerely a complete one off?

You wondered if it would be weird to ask him directly about what you had done to upset him, both bringing it to reality for the first time and also exposing yourself for caring way more than you should about what he thought.

It might have been an age thing that led you to not only not wanting to disappoint him but you found yourself actively wanting to impress him and catch his attention. Even an interested gaze rather than an annoyed one would probably make your day at this point and you found yourself ridiculous for the tenth time since you left the prison just a few hours ago.

There was the same urge in you when it came to Rick and Hershel, even Glenn occasionally although you looked towards him more as a brother while the latter two reminded you of that fatherly connection you’d always seeked out.

You felt warmed whenever Hershel checked in on you and softly told you to take better care of your health and you’d do just about anything Rick asked of you as long as it meant he was proud of you and felt you were a good addition to the group.

Your nose scrunched up at the thought of thinking towards Daryl in any type of fatherly way and you quickly scratched that idea off your endless boards of guesses.

Luckily he was pulling to a stop before you could jot down anything else in your mental notebook and you glanced around your surroundings for just a second before you were bracing your hands on his shoulders and swinging your leg over his bike, landing flat on your feet with a little groan.

The muscles in your thighs were tight from the stretch and constant tensing to brace yourself around turns and debris in the road and you imagine he was feeling a similar pain judging by the face he made when he roughly kicked the stand down to steady the bike.

You silently watched him as he covered it in light shrubbery, opting to stay out of his way and let him do whatever it was he felt like he needed. It was always simpler to wait for him to tell you what to do instead of doing it on your own and dealing with him getting angry and correcting you. 

He whistled lowly and started to walk away from you and you took the wordless cue easily, following behind with a hand on your knife holster and your eyes sharp to your surroundings. 

There was no amount of huffing and puffing from him that would make you think you were a liability out in nature. You didn’t have as quick of reflexes as he did and there was no way you’d ever catch up in terms of survival skills but you were good at handling yourself and extremely light on your feet.

Luckily there was a lack of complaints from him today as the two of you approached the small strip mall quietly and fast, half crouched in a way that made your knees ache as you followed behind him. 

He stopped too abruptly behind an abandoned car for you to notice and you bumped into his back, immediteyly reaching out in an attempt to steady him and he turned his head to glare at you over his shoulder. The walker growls in the distant stopped you from verbally apologizing but you hoped he could see it in your eyes.

That must have annoyed him enough that he decided you shouldn’t be behind him and out of sight, shaking your hands off of him before taking a few low steps back and nudging you forward.

You sighed at his clear lack of forgiveness but focused on the task at hand and made sure the area was clear before moving forward and finally reaching the buildings. You could see one of the windows were busted as you pushed yourself against the wall and you glanced at him once he reached you.

He was as close to you as he ever probably had been and you took a few seconds to watch the way his built chest was rising and falling with heavy breaths, shoulders pressed to yours and face blank as he glanced at you.

“Walkers.” You more mouthed the words than actually spoke and his gaze dropped to your lips.

You felt incredibly stupid and thrown off when you felt a heat rising to your cheeks at the action. You knew he was simply trying to read you lips and not looking at you for any other reason but your brain apparently decided today that you enjoyed the idea of him looking at you like that. 

It was probably the worst possible moment to be hit with the fact that you wanted him to think about you in that way, your entire body freezing up when you pieced together why exactly you yearned for his approval. It certainly wasnt fatherly at all because you apparently had a crush on Daryl Dixon.

“What the hell are you doing?” His raspy voice hissing at you defiantelty wasnt helping you in your moment of understanding but your eyes widened realizing he had been trying to tell you something while you were frozen. “C’mon girl, move.”

You were quick to nod your head to show him you processed the demand and then he was gone, turning the corner and pushing his way into the building. He must have had a good idea of how many walkers were inside and you werent sure if that was something he had figured out silently or if that was another piece of dialogue you had msised in your dilemma.

He didnt seem at all bothered while taking the three still up and walking around out and you watched him silently, not daring to get in the way when he was swinging his crossbow around and taking off heads. He was still breathing heavily when he turned to check on your whereabouts and this time you could see some anger beneath the exhaustion. 

The flush still on your cheeks was now being partnered with a heat in your gut and you realized just how fucked you actually were.

When had this happened and why did it take you so long to realize what this actually was? How did you manage to delude yourself into thinking it was normal that you were hanging off his every word and going over your small interactions dozens of times.

You’d even thrown on this hideously colored shirt thinking he might like it better than your normal wardrobe and you’d actually been upset when he hadn’t glanced twice at it earlier.

He was furrowing his eyebrows and you assumed he was half a second before asking you what the hell you were staring at but he didnt get a chance considering his eyes were darting over your shoulder with a look of panic that let you know exactly what he saw.

You didn’t even hear the growl of the walker behind you before you were gripping the handle of your knife and attempting to spin around but it was already too late and it was taking you to the ground so hard your head smacked against the old wood and your knife was being thrown somewhere too far for you to reach.

“Daryl.” Your voice was a high pitched screech as you desperately shot one hand out to attempt to grip anything that would allow you to kill the raging walker while your other one was pressed tightly around its shoulder to try and keep its clamping jaw away from your face.

It was so close you could hear the moisture in its mouth and feel its breath on your cheek, a whimper leaving you as you felt its hands on your body trying to find any soft bit of flesh to grip its claw into. 

The walker was falling limb ontop of you and although only a few seconds had passed since youd fallen, it felt like an hour of struggling with its strength and your entire life flashing before your eyes. You’d been in close call situations before but never something like this and you knew you would’ve been dead if Daryl hadn’t been here or even in the same room.

You were breathing heavily and shame hit you at the same time a heavy sob did, fully processing what almost just happened because you hadnt been paying attention to your surroundings. 

“Fuck.” Your voice was pained with a groan as you tried to life the waker off of you but it was large in size, possibly taller than Daryl and without a doubt heavier. It was lifted off of you as soon as you started to struggle and you were only half surprised to see his face looking down at you as he easily removed it.

For once he didn’t look cold or emotionless as he looked at you, a similar panic on his face as he crouched down beside you and scanned over your neck and face for any sign of a bite. 

You were about to reassure him that you hadn’t been bit but he was cutting you off by pushing your shirt halfway up your stomach, revealing so much bare skin that you felt almost shy even though you knew he was just checking you for scratches once he realized where the walker had its hands.

He didn’t dare touch your exposed stomach but his gaze was heated as he looked around your heaving ribs, pausing when he saw small pink marks on your waist.

“It’s okay right?” You sounded panicked as you sat up slightly to inspect it with him, your hand smoothing over the discoloration and feeling only a bit relieved when you didnt feel any signs of it being indented. “He just grabbed me tightly but he didn’t scratch.”

“Let’s go.” His voice was low and cold and he was standing halfway before gripping your forearm and tugging you up with him, starting to drag you towards the door.

You were frowning and shaking your head, looking back at your abandoned knife on the floor and placing a hand on the doorframe to stop him from pulling you. You knew he still easily could have removed you if he wanted but you both understood there was no way to get back on a motorcycle with an unwillingly particpant. 

It wasn’t as simple as throwing you in a car and shutting the door and your other hand came up to grab his wrist.

“We can’t leave.” Your voice was more pleading than argumentative, wanting him to see you were still willing and eager to follow his directions if it meant staying. “We haven’t even looked around yet. Theyre counting on us.”

“Nah. I’ll circle back tomorrow with Maggie.” He was steely in his answer and didn’t even seem to process what you were trying to tell him. He had clearly made up his mind and your eyes were desperate as you stared at him.

“I’m sorry for not paying attention.” It was your second time apologizing for something that wasn’t your fault and this seem to strike a particular nerve with him because he was fully turning towards you and letting go of your arm so he could point at you angrily. 

“You almost died, we’re leaving.” He was making a move for the door again and a wave of panic went through you, halfway thinking he might leave you there if you didn’t join him. He was leaving no room for argument and the look he gave you when you grabbed his shoulder made ice shoot through your veins.

He didn’t seem to understand why you couldn’t bare just leaving and going back to the prison empty handed. Did he not realize that there was nothing you feared more than disappointing your group members, not even a walker practically breathing down your throat could rattle you the way that could. 

His shoulders lost some of the tension when he saw the look on your face and you suddenly wanted to shout at him and ask him what his problem was, demand he tell you why he had been so endlessly cruel to you for so long. 

But now you were wondering if he actually had been or if you were simply throwing an internal fit because he didn’t give you an overt amount of attention, doubting your own reality now that you had fully accepted that you might have a stupid crush on the older man.

You had fresh tears joining your dried streaks now, cutting through the dirt on your face almost comically and he was biting the inside of his cheek like he couldn’t figure out how to comfort you right now or atleast make you stop crying.

Finally he was sighing and nodding his head so quick you almost missed it, pushing past you so he could venture further into the shop and silently let you know that you were getting what you wanted and continuing the run.

You made sure to push down any thoughts of him for the rest of the trip so you could focus on getting what you needed without endangering yourself again and you actually managed to get quite a big chunk of the stuff on the necessity list, even grabbing some extra fun things for Carl and a top you thought Beth might like. 

An hour or so had passed when Daryl made his way back to you and you could feel him watching you as you rifled through the clothing rack, not turning to face him and instead letting him approach you for once. 

“Suits you.” His light tone shocked you enough that you let go of the pink sleeve you were inspecting on the hanger. You had expected him to make a snide comment about you wasting time looking at clothes instead of finding something useful but apparently he had run out of the energy to argue with you.

“Because its childish?” You had humor in your voice with your response but it wasnt genuine, more so trying to deliver the punch line before he could. 

“Nah, just suits you.” He didn’t play into your accidental bait and you narrowed your eyes at him before sighing and pulling the pink sweater off the rack, dusting it off before dragging it over your head and the brown shirt you were wearing.

You figured you looked a bit puffy with the double layering and it was far too hot for the thick fabric but you held your hands out like you were presenting the outfit to him and although he didnt laugh, you thought you heard him lightly scoff at your display.

 

You finished stuffing your gifts for the others into your already full bag before joining him as he moved further into the large building, side by side as you followed the range of his flashlight with your eyes. 

“Why’re you wearing that shit anways?” He surpised you by still trying to make conversation and you starting to wonder if he had been the one to hit his head earlier, glancing at him just to find he was already watching you from the corner of his eye.

At first you thought he meant the sweater but you realized he meant your original outfit, heat once again rising to your cheeks when you pieced together that he had actually noticed your change in color scheme. 

You weren’t exactly sure how to explain that you had done it to appear more mature for him without making a complete fool of yourself so you opted for shrugging your shoulders and remaining silent, letting him figure it out for himself like you so often had to.

“Someone say something to you?” He paused in his stride and you turned back to look at him in confusion, furthering when you saw the twitch in his jaw and that same cold look in his eyes. This time it didn’t seem directed at you but that didn’t help you figure out the situation in the slightest. 

“Like what?” Your voice was still soft and almost a whisper, like you were guiding to him towards actually giving you an answer to something for once. Your head slightly titled and the movement made him take another step back for some reason, almost like he was afraid of you. “Like how I dress like a toddler? Or maybe something about being a walking signal for walkers?”

It almost took him a few seconds into your sentences to realize you were repeating back to him things he had said before, quick comments made in fits of anger that he clearly hadn’t thought you’d take to heart let alone remember word for word. You scoffed at his taken back reaction and nodded your head bitterly, tightening your grip on your backpack strap and moving towards the exit.

If he was bothered by you leaving him behind in the dark building then he didn’t show it on his face but you felt regret for doing it as soon as you were outside by yourself, standing next to his bike impatiently and waiting for him to join you. 

Thunder cracked in the distance as soon as his foot hit the dirt and both of you paused to look at eachother, dread growing in you knowing what he was thinking before he even had to say it.

You were groaning loudly and lugging your stuff back inside, bumping his shoulder on your way in. You both knew you wouldn’t be able to ride home that long with a storm coming so you had no choice but to spend the night in the same building you had nearly died in a few hours prior with a man who wanted nothing to do with you.

He was outside for atleast thirty minutes and you figured he was hiding his bike somewhere more secure or possibly checking the perimeter now that you were going to be letting your guards down a bit to get some rest.

You could hear rain drops hitting the windows before he came back inside and although they were light, you knew he must be getting damp out there. You sighed as you made your way to the clothing racks to find him something to dry to wear, telling yourself you were only doing the kind gesture because you were restless.

“Y/N?” His voice was loud and panicked when he closed the door behind him, not seeing you anywhere near the entrance and finding your bag left behind on the floor. “Damn it.”

Your eyes rolled when he initally called your name and you almost planned to ignore him but you still couldn’t find it in yourself to be unnecessarily rude so you gathered the clothes and headed back towards the front.

His body relaxed slightly when he saw you coming out of the dark but he froze again when his gaze dropped down to the fabric in your hands, watching you as you got so close your boots touched before you were pushing it against his wet chest and raising an eyebrow.

“You’ll catch a cold playing in the rain like that.” You let your tone be slightly mocking but it was lighthearted enough that he wouldn’t bother taking offense at you making fun of him for staying outside. He mumbled a thank you but didn’t stop staring down at you.

You wondered if he was slightly flattered by you doing such a domestic act for him or if he didn’t care at all, deciding on the former so you could let yourself have atleast one small win after such a rough day. You cleared your throat before turning around and allowing him some privacy while changing. 

Picking up on him moving a few more feet away, you entire body was still flushing when you heard the telltale signs of him changing clothes. 

There was a large part of you that tried to squeeze your eyes closed and think of something totally unrelated but the smaller portion won by a landslide and you let yourself think about what he might look like without clothes on. 

You were no stranger to the sight of his arms, large and rippling with muscle everytime he drew his crossbow or swung his knife. You knew he was older and more mature than boys you had been with before the fall, most likely with hair trailing down his stomach where they had been smooth and rounder around the sections of his ribs.

Your fidgeting was extremely apparent to anybody in the room and you were unlucky enough that it was just the two of you.

In no time Daryl was mumbling that you were good to turn around and moving to start a small enough fire that it wouldn’t reach the high ceiling and could be ventilated through the broken windows. You ignored the sight of his messy and damp hair falling into his eyes and especially forgot about how much your chest heaved at the way he looked in the clothes you’d picked for him.

It wasn’t much different from what he would usually wear, you had made sure of that so he wouldn’t reject your gesture but you simply found it notable that it was something you had picked for him. 

A few more hours were passing of you sitting in silence and listening to the rain outside for any sign of it stopping, grateful when he finally sighed and pulled out the little food you had packed, seemingly accepting your fate of staying overnight. 

The sun had long set by the time he was clearing his throat like he was going to finally say something and your eyes met his across the fire, holding the gaze tightly so he didn’t change his mind.

“Sorry about before.” He shocked you even more with the words coming from his mouth and your eyebrows raised, your arms wrapped around your knees where you’d been resting your head before he spoke. 

You weren’t sure what exactly he was trying to apologize for, the list of possible offenses longer than you think he even realized. You imagined it was between trying to make you abandon the run and you bringing up what he had said about the way you dressed, maybe a mix of both so he could kill two awkward birds with one big hesitant stone like apology. 

“It’s all good.” You were shrugging and you wondered if he at all cared that you had lost your usual friendly tone in favor of mimicking his cold and emotionless one. “Kinda my fault anyways, always trying to get your attention.”

You don’t know why you said it and you were even more confused why you didn’t immediately want to take it back. Maybe saying it out loud could make you feel better but you imagined you’d be wishing you saved it for a kinder audience like Maggie and Beth whenever he responded to you. 

Braving a look in his direction, you softly laughed seeing the confusion on his face. He almost looked a bit hurt and guarded like he thought you might be making fun of him which you didn’t fully understand why he would go to that conclusion.

“You don’t have to pretend you didn’t notice Daryl.” You were smiling softly now and although you were mostly baiting him, the pink on your cheeks was still very much real.

Truthfully, you hadn’t assumed that he had caught onto your crush on him because you barely had until now and Daryl didn’t seem to be the type of man that went around guessing when people liked him. 

Infact he seemed the most thrown off guard you’d ever seen him when he realized what you were trying to say and the red on his cheeks was almost enough to rival yours. You coughed just to fill the silence when you accepted he wasn’t planning to respond to you and you tried to ignore the deafening sounds of his shifting in place. 

The two of you stayed silent until the fire started to die out and by then you were laying on your back, staring up on the ceiling and bringing you could feel to rain falling down on you. It was heavy by now and you figured the storm was directly above you at this point, almost thankful for the thunder and lightning as it masked the sounds of Daryl’s light breathing.

He was laying down too and despite him being on the other side of the fire, it still managed to feel strangely intimate. 

It was likely that he was closer lying in the cell next to yours on the nights he decided it was better than the perch but now there was no stone wall between you and you could see the outline of his face whenever you turned your head to see if he had fallen asleep yet. 

The darkness was making it hard to see from that distance but the light of the fire was just visible enough for you to catch the fact he was glancing over at you too and you quickly looked away. You were firm in your stare at the ceiling now and you hoped the feeling of his eyes on you still was just your imagination. 

“I like the pink.” His voice was breaking through the silence but not loud enough to be completely jarring, low and whispered like he didn’t want to disturb you with the confession. Maybe he didn’t want you to hear him at all. “Meant it, it suits you.”

“You don’t think I look ridiculous?” You were teasing him now and it was obvious, your voice light and gentle again. 

“Nah, never did. Just an asshole.” His flat voice made you snort a laugh and you could have sworn you heard him chuckling in return. You stayed quiet for a bit longer and tried to find a way to not place meaning behind what he was telling you. 

It could be as simple as him not wanting any bad blood between the two of you considering you had to live together for most likely the rest of your lives, regardless if that was days or years. Or maybe he had felt bad about hurting your feelings because Daryl certainly wasn’t cruel for no reason and you knew he had a better heart than most, even if it took seeing you reduced to tears to finally apologize.

“I almost died today.” Your voice was still soft but for different reasons now and you turned to look at him again, wincing when you noticed he’d gone rigid. He was resting his head on one of his arms and the other was palm down on his stomach, moving lightly with every breath he took. “After all this time I think I forgot that I could. Maybe it’s good to get a reminder.”

He didn’t say anything for a while again and you almost wanted to sigh even though you just knew it was in his nature to not speak much. You actually liked that about him on any other day, he was easy to read when he wanted to be and he wore his emotions on his sleeve if you paid enough attention which apparently you did. 

“Not gonna let that happen.” Sometimes he said things that made you wish he wouldn’t speak because you werent sure how you were supposed to take him saying something like that. You had practically spelled out the fact you liked him a few hours ago and now he was declaring to personally keep you alive. 

“You cant know that.” You had decided to sit up before you finished speaking, wanting to feel more in control of the conversation even if it meant being able to see him more clearly now that you could easily see him over the fire. 

“Be alot easier if you stayed at the damn prison.” He sounded annoyed again but you could tell it wasn’t actually directed at you in a meaningful way. 

“Is that why you keep telling Rick I shouldn’t go on runs?” You hadnt even realized you came to that conclusion until you were asking it and you suddenly felt very stupid for thinking that he had been doubting your survival skills all this time. Although it wasnt solely your fault because you wouldve agreed alot easier to stay back if you knew he was simply worried about you. “Why didnt you tell me that?”

He scoffed like your question was ridiculous and now it was your turn to be annoyed with him. You were standing from your spot on the floor and moving over to him, sitting beside where he was still laying flat. This was probably the closest youd ever been to him intentionally not to mention this most likely being your longest conversation to date but he was finally giving you some answers now. 

“Wouldn’t matter anyways now would it. Too damn stubborn.” He sounded completely bored by your conversation and your mouth dropped at him vaguely confirming that he had been trying to keep you back to protect you. 

“I thought you hated me.” You practically squeaked it out and suddenly he seemed alot more alert, turning his head to look at you fully and clearly trying not to pay attention to how close you were sitting. 

You were on your knees next to him and your hands slapped down onto your thighs dramatically with an almost manic laugh as your entire point of view shifted. 

“Why would I hate you?” He asked it like the thought genuinely hadnt crossed his mind and you could have screamed in frustration. 

“Then why-” You thought of all of his heated glances and the way he avoided touch from you specifically, teasing remarks about the smallest details of how you dressed and now the added fact that he hadn’t wanted you to face the dangers of going on runs especially ones he wasn’t going on. “Oh my god, you have a crush on me.”

You should have felt ridiculous for the way you were practically gleaming with realization as you pointed at him like you had cracked open a decade long cold case. He raised an eyebrow at you and your theatrics before he was scoffing and looking back up at the roof like the conversation wasn’t making his heart race. 

“Ain’t got a crush.” He felt almost shy saying the word and thankfully you were close enough to see the way his flush had returned tenfold and the fidgeting of his hands against the vest he’d thrown back over the shirt you picked for him.

“But you like me?” You were overdoing it now but you felt almost drunk with giddiness now that you knew he hadn’t been icing you out all along. Daryl was simply just shy and clearly terrible at showcasing when he had feelings for somebody but you almost couldn’t blame him considering you’d nearly died seconds after realizing it for yourself. “You think I’m totally cute.”

Now you were really pushing it and he brought his gaze back to you just to make sure you could see the exasperation in his expression although now you were so high on the accidental confession you were tricking yourself into thinking he looked fondly amused.

“I’ve spent all this time thinking you hated me, why didn’t you just-” You were just starting to question his lack of forwardness but you silently answered it for yourself before you even finished. “Oh.”

You’d somehow manage to forget that there was easily twenty years between you and Daryl, if not more than that (you didn’t think now was a good time to ask him exactly how old he was). He looked almost sheepish now that you seemed to recall this obvious fact and you could tell he had thought about it alot more than you had.

A quietness took over the room again and you halfway noted that it sounded like the rain had finally started to slow to a stop. You were shifting in place and adjusting yourself in a way that you could more comfortably lean forward to practically force him to look at you.

“I don’t think it matters.” You were whispering now like somebody was going to overhear you and now his glare actually had some real heat behind it.

“Like hell it don’t.” He sounded frustrated that you were even talking about it let alone attempting to pretend it wasn’t an issue.

Now you were truly curious how long he had been thinking about this and it suddenly made alot more sense to you why he constantly seemed to be avoiding you. Not out of anger towards you but possibly towards the fact there was no world in which he could be with you in that way.

“I wouldn’t tell anybody.” You immediately regretting saying it as soon as you saw the way he froze up, the words being whispered into the air painting a much different tone than you had originally intended. 

It made it sound like it was some dirty secret you would need to keep due to how wrong it was but you had meant it genuinely, wanting him to know you’d be okay with taking your time letting the others know until it was something even worth noting. 

Now you truly felt like you’d gone crazy because what were you even talking about here? Did he have real feelings for you or was it just basic lust for a younger girl wandering around in pink tanktops, did it even matter regardless considering how disgusted he seemed now?

He was sitting up with a grunt and rising to his feet, giving you one last glare before he was storming outside with a mumble about needing a smoke. You stayed there on the floor staring at where his body had just been and a wave of shame washed over you.

You tried to calm yourself by thinking that you could fix it once he came back inside and relaxed a little, giving you a second to explain what you meant and what you had been thinking. You didn’t want him to see you as some stupid little girl that couldn’t keep her mouth shut. 

Daryl took this plan and crushed it considering he didn’t ever come back in and you laid there staring at the body of the walker who had almost killed you earlier, watching it until you managed to fade off into a nearly restless sleep while he sat outside and counted down the minutes until you could leave.

----

The next morning couldn’t have been more awkward if you tried.

You’d practically thrown yourself outside when you had waken up and didn’t see him still, stumbling onto the dirt with your eyes wide with panic. You looked towards the bush where his bike had been and felt your throat tighten at the realization he had actually left you there.

Then you heard shuffling behind you and whipped around to see him watching you from the treeline, half concerned and half blank like he couldn’t decide which side of him to show you now. 

Your half awake brain slowly remembered that he had moved his bike before the storm last night and you could tell by the line of something furry over his shoulder that he had been out hunting before you started to head home. 

You could guess by where the sun sat in the sky that he had actually let you sleep in a bit and suddenly you were itching to get back to the prison, hand to your forehead as you made your way back in silently to gather your stuff and head back out. 

You felt embarrassed that he had seen you so distressed over the thought of being left alone but you figured you were way past the point of return with the amount of humiliating things that had happened in the last 24 hours so it didn’t really matter. 

There was no overestimating how bad it felt to climb onto the back of his bike and wrap your arms around him for endless hours while also knowing he most likely wanted to be as far away from you as possible right now.

The sight of the prison would normally leave a slight distaste in your mouth but right now it was the most beautiful thing you’d ever seen and it only got better when you saw a familiar head of blonde hair near the gates, clearly hearing the sounds of the bike and waiting for your arrival.

You felt a rush of emotion seeing your friend and you were rushing off the bike before he even had time to steady himself, meeting her halfway in a hug and trying to ignore how weird your reaction seemed to anybody else. You had only been gone a night but it felt like an entire year had passed in that building. 

She was quick to make small talk as you headed in together and you were grateful for the distraction, glancing behind your shoulder back at him only to look away quickly when you found him already looking. 

It wasn’t until you were hidden behind the walls of your cell that you let the frown take over your expression and Beth faltered in her ramblings, watching your shoulders slump as you threw your bag carelessly in the corner. 

“Oh honey. I know that expression.” You hadn’t even realized Maggie was standing in the entryway of your cell until you heard her warm voice full of concern and pity. Beth sent her a curious glance and she sighed softly. “She’s heartbroken.”

“You told him?” Beth gasped the words loudly and both you and Maggie rushed to shush her, your hands covering her mouth while her sister moved fully into the cell like the sheet covering the doorway behind her would at all mask the sound of your gossip.

“You knew?” You were already frustrated and it was obvious in your tone, looking between the two of them with an accusatory glare that they matched with confusion. “You both knew this entire time?”

“You didn’t?” Maggie seemed genuinely perplexed by what you were saying and you suddenly were hit with how crazy you must have sounded.

You had spend the better part of the last few months ranting to them about every little interaction with the man and it was apparently clear to everybody but yourself and Daryl that you had feelings for him. 

There was a brief silence before you were delving into what had happened and doing your best to not leave out any details so you could get their opinions and advice on where to go from here. Beth cringed when you got to the part about not telling anybody and Maggie rolled her eyes when you mentioned Daryl had slept outside to avoid having to talk to you again.

“Is it really that bad?” Beth seemed almost bashful to ask the question and you both knew what she was talking about. 

You weren’t really sure how to answer her because although young, you were still very much an adult and capable of making your own decisions but you also wouldn’t be able to fully blame somebody who found you and Daryl together to be distasteful. Beth was still a few years younger than you and you had a hard time picturing her with anybody that age when she was closer to you and Maggie’s maturity.

“You’re a grown woman Y/N.” Maggie seemed to have come to a similar conclusion as you had or maybe she just wanted to encourage her friend towards something she knew would make her happy. “Least he could do is talk to you.”

That seemed to light a new found fire in you and after a few more words of encouragement you were storming off to go and find Daryl.

It took a fair bit of time to track him down but eventually you were led back to the maintenance room in the newly cleared portion of the prison, heart beating faster as you walked through the dimly lit hallways. You felt relieved when you could hear his voice coming from one of the rooms but then annoyance surge through you again.

“I’m a grown ass woman.” You were sure you looked ridiculous as you pushed through the door and looked at him angrily, pointing a finger in his direction and feeling slightly smug when you saw how caught off guard he looked for once. 

Then his eyes were trailing behind you and for a second you were reminded of the way he had looked before the walker attacked, spinning around just to see Rick and Glenn staring at you like you had grown two heads. Theyd never seen you so amped up before and the latter looked like he almost wanted to laugh. 

You were sure Maggie had filled him in to some extent about your situation with Daryl and your neck felt hot with embarrassment, something that was happening far too often for your liking.

“Sorry.” You felt sheepish as you glanced at Rick who looked half disapproving and half amused. “Can I talk to Daryl?”

Now he had something else passing over his face but you weren’t really sure what to make of it, even more confused when they locked eyes over your shoulder before Rick was raising an eyebrow and giving a slow nod. He barely looked at you as they left and you couldn’t tell if that made you feel better or worse. 

You were turning back towards the source of your anger but now all of your fight had been lost and all you could do was sigh as you looked at him.

“Can you atleast talk to me?” You found yourself simply repeating exactly what Maggie had told you and you felt prematurely defeated when you saw the closed off look in his eye.

“Ain’t nothing to talk about.” He was quick to dismiss you completely and you were thankful you were standing between him and the door because it looked like he was seconds from running away just to avoid you again. 

“There is Daryl and you know there is.” You didn’t care that you sounded desperate as you called his name and his eyes bore harder into yours when he heard it falling from your lips, only watching you as you took a few steps closer to him. “What’s so wrong about you liking me?”

He wasn’t going to say it, place a name to exactly what the problem would be because he knew you were already aware. You could tell he was growing frustrated that you kept pushing him about it especially when he clearly had done a good job at ignoring it although that included making you feel like shit.

“Liking eachother.” You changed your wording around to make sure you included yourself this time, wanting to remind him the feeling was mutual. 

You weren’t sure if it had the affect you wanted but you were taking a few more hesitant steps forward like you were approaching a wild animal, stopping when you were close enough to be able to put your hand on his chest.

It was the first time you were touching him like that without needing a real reason to and he seemed more affected than you’d seen him be yet, breath noticeably shorting as his eyes started to frantically dart around your face.

You wished so desperately you were able to read his mind and question what it was that was holding him back so much, especially when you were out of sight from everybody else and the judgement they possibly could cast onto you.

 

Apparently you weren’t subtle and the look Rick had given him earlier almost seemed like he had been as aware of your situation as Maggie was and there was no public outcry, no pulling you away and scolding you for having your hand on his chest and your eyes moving from his lips to his eyes. 

For a second it felt like the volume had been turned off in the room until he was finally moving his gaze down too and suddenly it all came rushing back, able to hear your own heartbeat mixing with his and the pace of his breathing slowing down. 

It wasn’t until he kissed you that the sound died out again, filled in by the rush in your heart and raindrops in the distance.

[miange1]

Dexter, Angel, Brian, and James with someone who has a baby face w/ a deep voice

head cannons, male reader, reader has high moans, brian is a freak, doaks is secretly a freak, being way too curious with someone, they don't realize it's cause they're turned on and have a thing for you, spanish speaking reader on angel, kinda based off me, reader can be shorter or taller i really don't care

— didn't expect that out of you, by any means. you were the person who had called him to the crime scene, and since he had never really met you, he didn't expect to see that you're the one behind the call.

"There any blood?"

He meant to speak to angel, yet you answered right behind him and scaring the hell out of him.

"It's over here." He caught himself looking around, that couldn't have come from you? Could it? You had the face someone would steal a lollipop from.

"Uh..yeah, lead the way." He was so fixated on your face. Big, doe eyes your pretty soft lips parting at every 'ah..' of understandment. His mouth went dry even looking at you, why hadn't he noticed you before?

— When the two of you got together, it was very clear he had a thing for your voice. Especially whilst having sex, and he surely didn't expect your moans to be so high? Guess something made up for that pretty face of yours.

— Each time he was inside, he loved the way low groans turned into such needy and whiny moans for him. It turned him on when you talked him through, slow sex had him crumbing to you.

"Fuck..Dexter.." He thrusted inside slowly, taking in every single 'yes' and 'so good' Dexter himself wasn't at all a quiet person in bed, grunting and groaning along with you letting your own voices mix. He was so damn lucky.

— Yeah, you creeped him the fuck out.

— He wasn't one to care on people's voices, but damn did you get surgery or something? He might have called you 'kid' or something if you didn't sound like death crawling from hell itself.

— He was told to go to you for some sort of files, finding you at your desk.

"You the one I'm looking for? I need those files." He couldn't lie, his heart almost melted at the way you looked up at him. Was his voice too rough? Did he hurt your feelings? Damn.

"Thank you."

"You're welcome."

Holy fuck.. nevermind.

— He made a rule for you not to sneak up behind him and to randomly start speaking. Scared the shit out of him when you did that.

"Right, Morgan said the victim had put up a fight before she was hit in the head, and—"

"What happened?"

"Oh my God— never again! Never do that again."

"Hm? What did I do?"

— He weirdly liked your face. Well, the cheeks of your face. If you did something dumb you would feel his fingers harshly punch at the soft skin of them. It was cute, he wouldn't lie about that. Your face stretching out as you whined for him to let go. It made his day, it really did.

— Now sex on the other hand, he would never reveal that to anyone. He was a professional, but on his own he would think of it from time to time. The way you would moan out his name, making that voice of yours crumble just from slipping the tip inside of you. His head would be on your shoulder, his own voice soft and talking you through it. He did that on purpose, so his ear would be close to your mouth. He desperately needed to hear it.

(he's so glorious i love him.)

— Debra was having another situation in which a witness couldn't speak English well, or understand it too much and he had been busy with someone else. So they called you over instead.

"Entiendo señora, haremos lo mejor que podamos pero por favor debe calmarse." Damn. He got distracted, drowning out the voice of who he was supposed to be listening to. Watching your face go into a look of understanding as the woman in the front of you hyperventilated, your voice so deep yet so calming as you rubbed her back and soothed her the best you could.

— He loved when you spoke spanish, whether it be small curses, or exclaims of excitement. He loved it all. But when you were speaking to him, he went all still. He could admire your voice from afar, yet right in front of him? No, absolutely not.

"Morning Angel," He froze up, snapping out of it quickly so he could at least muster up something back. "Yeah.." Yeah. Yeah? Was that the best he could do, jesus..

— Never had he expected to get with you. Let alone be able to fuck you. He was nervous at first. What was he supposed to do? He knew what to do, but he didn't at the same time. It was mostly a matter of being nervous rather than you being the first guy he's done it with.

"This feel good?" Paying attention to every single sound or movement you made, looking at you as if you were the light of his life. Your little 'Mhm' as he held your body close, going inside slowly and letting his hands squeeze at your hips and waist, soothing them.

"Oh, Angel.." Your accent made him shiver, his eyes fluttering shut and rolling back the more he thrusted inside. "Perfect.." He muttered, kissing your skin softly. "So perfect."

— Overtime, he would develop a weird liking to your throat. Everytime you spoke, he'd pay attention to your Adams apple and watching it bob as you spoke. He just wanted to choke you.

— Though first hearing you, he didn't know whether or not to be surprised or turned on. He found you weirdly unique, obsessed with your voice and always gave you reasons to talk. He would learn about your interest, just to make you talk even more.

"Oh, and my favorite actor had played in this movie and I feel as if.." and blah, blah, blah..

"Mhm..yeah,"

— He was listening, he swore it! And if he wasn't listening he had gotten some sort of recorder, just so he make use of it later on.

His cock leaked the more he moved his hand up and down. Trying to force himself to be quiet enough so that he could hear your voice clearly.

"Fuck.." Imagining you riding him, moaning like you depended on riding him and like you absolutely needed him. Voice wavering to whimpers and high moans— hell, he needed that so badly.

— Next day, he'd face you like nothing happened. Greeting you with a smile as you walked through the station.

"Morning Rudy!"

"Morning.."

[world-of-wales]

LAURA WARSHAUER SHARED SNIPPETS FROM HER TIME AT ST ANDREW'S WATCHING WILL & CAT FALL IN LOVE ♡

Laura Warshauer had a front row seat as a result of her close friendship with the pair. Whether it was William helping to carry her luggage, Kate comforting her on a night out, or just having a quiet drink in a cosy corner of a pub together, those memories live on.

Her interactions with them are something few can share – teaching Kate how to play the guitar, William buying her first ever Jack Daniel’s and Coke, eating takeaway food together or laughing and joking during road trips.

Speaking about her time at uni she said :

‘I graduated from school a year early and then spent what would have been my senior year at high school in St Andrews. It was a beautiful moment in time.

I wound up getting a front row seat to the very beginning of what would become one of the greatest and most iconic love stories of our time. It’s great to see Will and Kate, the same people they were then, on the world stage.’

Talking about their form life, she recalls that she'd her mother’s lasagne recipe and her aunt’s toffee – for William and some of his friends as well as chatting with him during meal times in the ‘Harry Potter-style’ dining hall.

William & Laura sitting together for the art history 02 class photo (fun fact william changed his course like 2 weeks later to geography)

She said:

‘Will lived down the hall with two of his friends from Eton. Kate lived on the floor below.

‘I met them the same week they met each other. I was struck by how normal Will was. You could talk about anything – the most mundane things.

'Coming back from a trip home to New Jersey with my big luggage, Will would grab my bag and take it inside the dorm.

‘We were all just trying to find our way. Even if you’d been at a boarding school like Eton, people were still in a new environment.’

‘I remember I made dinner for everyone on my birthday in December and Will brought me a gift – a stuffed animal from Tesco.

It’s a seal with a blue backpack with stars on it. It’s in a place where I can see it every day and I’m like, “How cool”. It’s adorable.’

Laura said Kate and William had instant chemistry and fell for each other months before the 2002 fashion show where Will saw Kate modelling and described her as ‘hot’ :

‘We went to a party at a castle. It was a Harry Potter theme and they did an auction for charity where people were bidding to win a date. Will bid £200 to win a date with Kate.’

This is the Glamis Castle Birthday party from 01 where Catherine was pictured with Olivia Bleasdale

While Ms Warshauer doesn’t know what they eventually did for their date, she remembered Kate’s reaction was effortlessly cool – showing she was unfazed by titles and comfortable around him.

She spoke about Kate extricating William from an uncomfortable encounter:

‘It was early on when Will and Kate were getting to know each other. This girl was talking to Will, and he was being polite, but it was obvious he needed a way out .

‘All of a sudden Kate walks up from across the room, puts her arms around him and enables him to turn to this other girl and be like “I’m sorry, I have a girlfriend”.

‘And then he turned to Kate and silently mouthed the words “Thank you”. I remember thinking at that moment that no one but Kate could have done that.

‘They had just met each other but it was clear they had a connection.’

Speaking about her friendship with The Princess of Wales she said :

‘Kate saw that I was upset one night while we were out. I was walking ahead so people couldn’t see that I was upset and she came up and put her arm around me and said “I hate seeing people I care about upset”. You remember these moments.’

A photograph of Kate and Laura taken in the town’s camera shop in 2001 shows their friendship. A trip taken to find equipment for Laura's CBS audition tape filming:

‘As you know, Kate loves photography, she loved it then. Even in her dorm room I remember the beautiful photos.

‘She and I went to the camera shop together to get everything we needed and then she filmed the audition for me.’

Laura had shared a photo on social media of herself and Kate – taken at a 19th birthday party during their time in St Andrews – in a show of support for the Princess following her treatment for cancer.

This party seems to be Oliver Baker's birthday. He's one of W&C's close friends and one of George's godparents.

Speaking about it she said:

‘The interest is even greater now than it was the first time.’

Reminiscing about the party where the photo was taken, she remembers that she had just been to Paris to visit her sister who was studying there. The outfit she has on in the snap is one she bought during that French adventure.

Even that trip to Paris had started with another cherished moment with WillCat. She said:

‘Kate and I were supposed to ride a taxi to the airport together but then Will gave her a ride so I got in on it. I love how he offered her a ride and that’s how I got to go.

‘It was so cool to arrive in Paris and be like, “So guess who gave me a ride to the airport?”

‘The radio was on and Will was like, “Laura, you can sing with the radio”. It was just like popular music. It was sweet that he made that reference to me as a singer.’

[ennabear]

hehehe haiii twin 🤭🤭 making my yappery reblog comeback with this blurb because it’s so adorable and i’ve read it a million times already… also i’m not really sure if any of this will be legible because i’m half asleep with a migraine so… BUT I LOVE YOU AND I LOVE THIS AND I LOVE ELLIEBEAR HEHEHEHE

your relationship with her was still very new, full of shy glances, giggles, and tingles when your fingers grazed - both of you wanted to be perfect for the other. to not rush. but to say you didn't long to be kissed was a lie.

omg i’m gonna cry this is so cute… shy loser ellie I NEED YOUUUUUU 😭 the way i long to be kissed by her is crazy how did you know… sighhh you write her so beautifully it’s like she’s real and in my phone 😞😞😞

you stared at those pouty rosebud lips of hers, and dreamed about how they'd feel on yours. you counted her freckles and fantasized about ghosting your lips over each and every one of them, igniting her cheeks in a blush; a hue so deep it makes them vanish. luckily for you, the perfect moment was fast approaching.

stop this rn… bae… i’m sobbing… those freckles… the way i would kiss the shit out of her is crazy I WANNA SMOOCHY SMOOCH HERRRRRRRUGHHH omg i’m gonna throw my phone how are u doing this… literally every way you describe her is so adorable i’m 🥹🥹🥹🥹🥹 perfect moment fr i need her to be my new years kiss even though it’s january 4th

you two decided to watch the fireworks outside in a clearing, so you could stargaze before and after the main event. it was cold, and you felt her nuzzle closer to you-your heart skipped a beat. you nudged her with your shoulder, "ellie, it's almost time!"

:((((( now i wanna stargaze with her and get all cozy and cuddle with her and look at the sky and be warm and and and and…. give her a kith…

you were met with a dazed murmur, a grumpy sound. you shook the silly girl awake, melting at her adorable expression-sleepy as a nesting owl. she jumped when a sudden firework shot up in the sky, creating a sparkly golden trail. you looked at them too, but you were more focused on the glint in her eyes—a wonder and joy like none other. she turned to you, grinning as wide as ever, but you had other plans.

HEHEHEHE AWWWW her falling asleep is so meeeee i’m bawling i’m screaming i’m crying i’m sobbing 😭😭😭😭😭😭😭 twin have i ever told you that you’re the best writer in the world… because you are… the way you describe this whole scene is so perfect i can see it so clearly it’s crazy… how are u doing that… need you to write a book next please and thanks!!!!!

"yay! happy new year! i—" escaped from her paired with a gleeful chuckle, only you cut her off by pressing your lips to hers without a warning, leaving her breathless. she was so soft, velvety lips and the warmth of her unsteady gasps fanning your face.

shortly, she kissed you back lovingly, sweetly, tenderly, as if you were made of precious ceramic, her hand gently cradling yours.

KITH KITH KITH KITH KITH KITH!!!!! i can’t take this anymore ellie come out where are you this isn’t funny bae… its okay i just want a kiss… and to hold your hand… and cuddle… and take a nap… please… dont make me ant on a stick rn… i need to give her a ninions kiss so bad omg it hurts… put my whole tongue in her mouth and blush like 🍅🍅🍅🍅🍅 until we’re both yellow… uhhhhh does that mean anything idk

you broke apart to smile at her, canines bared and everything, and brushed a stray lock of hair behind her ear. your heart grew many sizes looking at her like this, you haven't felt such adoration for someone so fast in what feels like forever. your voice was shaky with emotion, nothing but positivity, and you whispered while you rested your forehead against hers, "happy new year, ellie. here's to a good one."

i adore her so much and i adore u twin i’m sobbinggggg I WANT TO KISS HER SO BAD… oh no what’s happening my lips are cold and lonely… if only i had her to keep them warm all year… and then again next year… and the year after… sighhhhh too bad she’s only in my phone… i guess i’ll just have to read through twins whole masterlist to keep myself sane…

i just know new years with ellie would be so damn special. have this i farted out in two seconds...i miss writing so bad.

your relationship with her was still very new, full of shy glances, giggles, and tingles when your fingers grazed—both of you wanted to be perfect for the other. to not rush. but to say you didn't long to be kissed was a lie.

you stared at those pouty rosebud lips of hers, and dreamed about how they'd feel on yours. you counted her freckles and fantasized about ghosting your lips over each and every one of them, igniting her cheeks in a blush; a hue so deep it makes them vanish. luckily for you, the perfect moment was fast approaching.

you two decided to watch the fireworks outside in a clearing, so you could stargaze before and after the main event. it was cold, and you felt her nuzzle closer to you—your heart skipped a beat. you nudged her with your shoulder, "ellie, it's almost time!"

you were met with a dazed murmur, a grumpy sound. you shook the silly girl awake, melting at her adorable expression—sleepy as a nesting owl. she jumped when a sudden firework shot up in the sky, creating a sparkly golden trail. you looked at them too, but you were more focused on the glint in her eyes—a wonder and joy like none other. she turned to you, grinning as wide as ever, but you had other plans.

"yay! happy new year! i—" escaped from her paired with a gleeful chuckle, only you cut her off by pressing your lips to hers without a warning, leaving her breathless. she was so soft, velvety lips and the warmth of her unsteady gasps fanning your face.

shortly, she kissed you back lovingly, sweetly, tenderly, as if you were made of precious ceramic, her hand gently cradling yours.

you broke apart to smile at her, canines bared and everything, and brushed a stray lock of hair behind her ear. your heart grew many sizes looking at her like this, you haven't felt such adoration for someone so fast in what feels like forever. your voice was shaky with emotion, nothing but positivity, and you whispered while you rested your forehead against hers, "happy new year, ellie. here's to a good one."

[divinedelusional]

how rafe would treat his gf on her period

rafe cameron x fem reader

word count: 796

warnings: menstruation, mentions of toxic relationship and period sex

a/n: yeah this is how rafe treats his girl on her period but also how he would be like in a relationship throughout the seasons? i got carried away, sorry not sorry

s1 rafe: sooo i feel like fratboy!rafe genuinely doesn't give a fuck, i don't even know if he would be capable of being in a relationship. i see him being involved with a girl but only for sex and he would only know she's on her period bc she would just text him that they can't meet today bc of it and he'd be like "uh huh cool" and would go jerk off

s2 rafe: here i think situation would be slightly different. i think our psycho bby could acc develop feelings for a girl, it would mostly be just sex but he could start falling for someone. so i think he'd fight a battle in his mind if he should come over to the girl's house and be there for her on her period or to completely neglect her. it's just he doesn't have a clue what to do and tbh he's occupied with other shit, he uses sex with her to forget. i think it's very similar to s1 rafe but with guilt and feelings creeping in (and obvious denial for this emotions)

s3 rafe: so okay we all know the shift from curtain bangs psycho rafey to buzz cut man of the house rafe who looked like he's getting his shit together. of course that means he's different when it comes to relationships. he still deals with a lot, but he finds you. and he kinda sees you as this light. a small light who he has to be very careful with so it won't go out. he is attentive to you. treats you right, but with some sort of distance and you don't blame him. he doesn't spend every day with you, he didn't even ask you to be his girlfriend yet, didn't make it official but he will and somehow you know it. when you're on your period you become quiet. you don't text him, but he finds out as he had a feeling that he should drop by your house. he finds you on your couch with a heating bag and cookies. you told him you weren't feeling well and he ordered you hot soup and made a quick run to pharmacy for some medicine. he still was clueless and thought you caught a cold. "rafe im not sick im just on my period" "oh" it's not like he avoids you, no. he visits you everday for the next four days but doesn't stay for long, always excusing himself with some meeting or business. you know he means the best for you but wish that he's going to be able to let you in soon. you're really patient with him, but start having doubts.

s4 rafe: is now fully committed to you. you talked to him how you really felt about this relationship. that you really cared and wanted to give him as much time as he needed, but also you couldn't waste it anymore waiting for him. and rafe realized that nobody else would have such patience for him. he was thinking about you a lot and he admitted to himself that you were the one. he made your relationship official and two months later you were living together. he was spoiling you, really. taking you on dates, buying you gifts and most importantly giving you his time. getting to know you, observing your daily habits, remembering stuff you said. your likes and dislikes. no wonder he became pussy whipped. and started to feel like he knows you better than yourself.

that's why when it's that time of the month you don't have to say anything. rafe knows. just by the way you whine when you wake up, he knows if you'd be able to get out of bed and get on with your day or you'd want to stay in bed cuddling, because he's your personal heater, makes back pain go away. gives you massages. cuddles with you all morning untill your stomach start to signal that it's time for some food. oh and he doesn't care about his schedule. he could clear it off, cancel the meetings, but he doesn't bother. his girl is the most important, his business associates don't even deserve a phone call on a day his girl is in pain. also he's not opposed to period sex at. all. orgasm is a great way to reduce cramps, so if that works for you and you want him to help you, he is the happiest to do so. if you're not comfortable with having sex these days he totally understands. wouldn't even thought of forcing you to do something, on your period or not. when he discovered that he has so much love in him, his only interest is to give it to you♡

dividers by: @bernardsbendystraws

tagging: @sugaraanddiesel @cherrylipglossss hope they'll enjoy it and @cameronsprincess bc maybe it will put a smile on her face♡

[fr0stf4ll]

A court of Shadows and Moonlight - Part 6

paring; Azriel x reader

summary; In the wake of looming war and changing traditions, a gifted healer returns to the Night Court after centuries of wandering the continents. Tasked with stepping into Madja’s legendary role, she must guide reluctant healers, soothe wounded warriors, and face the entrenched prejudice of Illyrian leaders. But as she mends torn wings and broken spirits, an unexpected bond awakens between her and the Night Court’s enigmatic Spymaster. With rivalries simmering and a dangerous threat looming on the horizon, she must reconcile duty and desire, learning that true healing can extend beyond flesh and bone—if she dares to embrace the light hidden among the shadows.

word count ; 9k (long ass chapter lol)

Trigger warning; //

notes; Hello my loves <3 HAPPY NEW YEAR woohooo!!! Sorry for not posting these last few days, but they’ve been looong with all the celebrations. Plus, I had to travel back to my place, and it took forever. So today, you’ll not only get part 6, but also part 7 ;) (it should be up in the next few minutes). This chapter was actually pretty hard for me to write because I had doubts about where to take the story or if I should give more or fewer clues about Y/N’s background. Either way, don’t hesitate to comment because even if I don’t reply to all of you, I definitely read them, and I loveeee getting those notifications. Well, see you in a few minutes for part 7 lol <3

Link; Part 5 or Part 7

----

Late afternoon shadows stretched across Velaris as you and Cassian stepped off the bridge leading into the quieter district near the clinic. Both of you were weary—three days in Illyria had taxed your energy, even if the journey home was less fraught than the work you’d done in the camps. Your cloak felt heavier than usual, boots scuffing softly on the cobblestones as you approached the modest building that housed the clinic’s entrance and your apartment above it.

Cassian’s shoulders slumped a little, wings drooping as he glanced at you. “We made it,” he said, voice carrying a note of relief. “Another successful adventure survived.” His smile was a bit lopsided, but genuine.

You managed a small chuckle, rolling your stiff shoulders. “A success, I hope,” you answered quietly. “At least some of them seemed open to new methods.”

He nodded, raking a hand through his hair. “They’ll never admit it, but they’ll use what you taught them. You left an impression, Y/N.”

The simple honesty in his tone warmed you. The clinic door beckoned, safety and rest just inside. You paused at the threshold, turning to face him. “Thank you for coming with me,” you said softly. “I know you had other duties, but I’m grateful you lent your presence—and, frankly, your muscle—to ensure no one gave me too hard a time.”

Cassian shrugged, easy humor returning for a moment. “Any excuse to keep the Illyrians in line.” He sobered a fraction, studying you with quiet sincerity. “I’m glad I could help.”

A silence fell, not uncomfortable but weighted with the fatigue of the journey. At length, Cassian cleared his throat, as if remembering something. “Oh, right,” he said, seeming almost amused by whatever he’d forgotten. “Before I go—Rhys asked me to pass along an invitation. He’d like you to join him, Feyre, and a few others for dinner tomorrow night at their townhouse in Velaris. It’s a sort of… well, I guess a welcome dinner now that you’re truly back in the Night Court.”

Your eyes widened in surprise and a spark of gratitude lit behind them. “Dinner?” you repeated, a bit taken aback. “That’s… an honor. I—” You hesitated, a hundred questions floating to your mind. You weren’t sure what one normally did when invited to the High Lord’s home for a meal. “Should I bring anything?” you asked, half-wondering if a gift or some rare herbs might be customary.

Cassian’s grin turned playful. “Bring yourself,” he said simply. “That’s all they’ll want. Trust me, Rhys and Feyre don’t stand on ceremony with friends. Consider it an evening to relax, maybe talk about what’s next.” His gaze flicked over the clinic’s door, then back to you, voice softening. “You deserve a good meal and a bit of comfort after the work you’ve done.”

Touched by his words, you nodded. “All right,” you agreed. “I’ll be there.”

“Perfect.” He exhaled, one corner of his mouth lifting. “Now, I’d better let you rest. I think we’ve both earned a good night’s sleep.”

A small laugh escaped you. “Absolutely,” you said, resting a hand on the door’s latch. “Sleep well, Cassian.”

He gave you a salute that was half-mocking, half-genuine, wings fluttering as he turned away and headed down the street. You watched him go for a moment, then slipped inside the clinic, fatigue tugging at your limbs. Tomorrow, you would face the High Lord’s table, and perhaps some quieter conversations that might shape the next phase of your return.

For now, rest called, and you followed it gratefully up the stairs to your apartment, thoughts drifting between memories of Illyria’s harsh mountains and the warm promise of dinner among unlikely allies.

Back inside the familiar confines of the clinic, you paused just inside the door, drawing in the scents of linen and dried herbs that always lingered in the halls. Your joints ached a bit from the journey, but routine called, and you answered it. Before heading upstairs to your apartment, you moved through the quiet corridors to the records room. A low lamp flickered there, its glow soft against the shelves.

You ran your fingertips along the ledgers, pulling out the records from the past three days. Your eyes skimmed the entries, scanning notes that Elira and the other healers had left. No major emergencies, you read with relief—only a few minor wounds, a mild fever, the usual aches and pains. The neat handwriting confirmed that Elira had continued training the younger healers as planned. She’d even left a brief note: All went well. The younger ones are picking up the new bandaging technique quickly.

A small smile touched your lips. Good. Progress, even in your absence.

Satisfied that the clinic had fared well without you, you tucked the ledger back into place and turned toward the stairs. The promise of rest beckoned, and you ascended quietly, passing familiar sconces that flickered in the gentle air currents. Upstairs, your apartment welcomed you with its calm silence. You shrugged off your cloak, letting it fall over a chair, and considered the state of your legs and back. A warm bath—yes, that would be perfect.

You crossed to the small bathroom, lighting a few candles along the way. The soft glow gilded the tiled walls and the simple, claw-footed tub. Setting the faucet, you allowed steaming water to pour in, scenting it with a bit of lavender oil you kept for moments like these. As the tub filled and steam rose, you breathed deeply, letting the tension roll off your shoulders.

So much had happened—Illyria, the uncertain dynamics in the Night Court’s inner circle, and tomorrow, a dinner invitation from the High Lord himself. But for now, here, in this private sanctuary, you could let all that fade. Stripping out of your travel-stained clothes, you sank into the bath, the warm water cradling your tired muscles. The quiet of the evening settled over you, and the lavender-soaked steam eased the lingering edges of worry.

Tomorrow would bring its own challenges and discoveries. Tonight, you granted yourself peace.

—————

When evening arrived, you found yourself walking through Velaris’s softly lit streets, a bundle of carefully chosen flowers nestled in the crook of your arm. You’d spent much of the day working at the clinic as usual, but your mind had drifted often to the upcoming dinner. Now, wearing a simple but neat outfit—something presentable without being ostentatious—you followed the directions Cassian had given you, making your way toward the High Lord and High Lady’s townhouse.

Your heart fluttered with a mix of anticipation and nerves. It wasn’t as if you were heading into battle, but meeting them on such personal terms, in their private home, was a new threshold. You hadn’t seen Azriel since returning from Illyria, and though he might be present, you tried not to focus on that too much. This evening wasn’t about your confused feelings or the golden thread that tugged quietly at your awareness. It was about respect, camaraderie, and, hopefully, laughter over good food.

Rounding a corner, you came upon the district where the townhouse stood. The soft glow of streetlamps illuminated quiet lanes, and music drifted faintly from some distant party. Ahead, you spotted the house described to you—a graceful building of warm-colored stone and gently sloping roofs. It was large enough to accommodate their inner circle and guests, yet it didn’t loom or flaunt opulence. Instead, it exuded a gentle, welcoming aura.

Plants climbed trellises along the exterior, flowering vines weaving patterns around balconies and window frames. You caught the scent of night-blooming jasmine mingling with roses and citrus blossoms, an elegant tapestry of nature’s perfume draped over the home. It felt alive, this house—a place nurtured by caring hands. A place of growth and warmth.

Approaching the door, you paused to straighten your posture and smooth your clothes. The flowers you carried were modest and cheerful—nothing exotic or rare, just a vibrant mix of blooms from a local florist. You’d considered bringing wine, but after a moment’s reflection, you realized that whatever bottle you could afford would be outshone by the contents of their likely well-stocked cellar. Flowers, though, offered color, scent, and sincerity. That, you hoped, would be appreciated.

Exhaling slowly, you stepped forward, footfalls muffled by the ivy-softened walkway. The door’s brass knocker gleamed in the lamplight. You raised your free hand and knocked gently, heart fluttering once more. Perhaps it was silly to be nervous. You’d healed impossible wounds, steered conversations with stubborn Lords, and confronted your own uncertainties. You could handle a dinner invitation.

As you waited for someone to answer, you let your gaze drift along the eaves and sills. Lanterns dangled from hooks, their glass panels casting soft patterns of light and shadow across the entryway. Everything felt harmonious and attentive to detail—a reflection, perhaps, of the people who lived inside.

In a moment, you would be ushered in, welcomed as a friend or colleague rather than a mere visitor. The thought steadied you. The flowers shifted in your arms, and their gentle fragrance rose to meet you, a reminder that some gestures spoke volumes without words.

You were here, and you would face whatever the evening brought with an open heart.

The door swung open to reveal Feyre, her hair tumbling in soft waves over her shoulders, a gentle smile illuminating her features. She wore something elegant but not showy, a simple gown that played up her natural grace. When she saw you, her eyes lit even brighter, and she reached out, enfolding you in a warm, unexpected hug. It eased a little of the tension that had coiled in your chest.

“You’re here,” she said, voice calm and welcoming. “We’re so glad you could come.”

You offered her the bouquet, a mix of vivid blooms you’d chosen with care. Her eyes widened slightly, delighted. “They’re beautiful—thank you. I know a perfect spot for these.” She stepped back, holding the flowers with a careful tenderness, as if the gift mattered more than you’d dared hope.

She ushered you inside, and you slipped off your coat. Though it hadn’t snowed that day, a crisp chill still lingered in Velaris’s winter air, and the townhouse’s warmth wrapped around you like a soft cloak. Feyre guided you through a well-lit hallway into the living room, where conversation and laughter wove a gentle tapestry over the hush of the evening.

Rhysand rose from an armchair near the hearth to greet you, his violet eyes reflecting the lamplight. “Welcome,” he said, voice smooth and sincere. “Please, make yourself at home. You’ve already met Cassian and Azriel, but allow me to introduce the rest.”

Your gaze swept over the room. Cassian stood near the mantel, a glass of wine in hand, and as you glanced at him, he offered a lazy grin. Azriel was positioned a bit to the side, one arm resting along the back of a sofa. His bandages were gone, leaving faint lines of healing scars hidden beneath well-tailored clothing. He inclined his head softly when your eyes met, acknowledging your presence without fuss.

Seated near Azriel was a stunning blonde female—radiant and poised. Her beauty caught your attention immediately. Feyre noticed your look and added with a smile, “This is Mor—Morrigan. She’s family.”

Mor raised her glass in greeting, her hazel eyes warm with easy camaraderie. “Nice to finally meet you,” she said, voice touched with a hint of laughter, as if you’d arrived just in time for something pleasant.

Another figure caught your eye next: a smaller female, perched on the arm of a chair. Her silver eyes were sharp, ancient somehow, set into a refined face and framed by dark hair. This, you guessed, must be Amren. Your heart gave a small jolt of surprise—she was the one you’d heard described as powerful and formidable, yet she merely gave you a faint nod, assessing and cool, but not impolite.

Near Cassian stood another woman, her posture elegant, her features bearing a clear familial resemblance to Feyre. This must be Nesta—Feyre’s sister, the one who you’d heard was mated to Cassian. Her gaze was direct, but not hostile; perhaps curious, as if measuring who you were and why you’d been invited into their circle. You offered her a respectful smile, and she inclined her head in a subtle, regal manner.

The atmosphere was cordial, tinted with curiosity and acceptance. The fire crackled softly behind you, the scent of rich food and spices drifting in from another room. Feyre gestured to a free chair and you sat, the others resuming their conversations, weaving you naturally into their midst.

From the corner of your eye, you noticed Azriel shift slightly, watching the interplay of introductions. Morrigan turned to say something to him, drawing his attention away and giving you a moment to breathe, to take in that you were truly here, part of this intimate gathering.

“Dinner will be ready soon,” Feyre said, settling beside Rhysand, who’d gently clasped her hand. “Until then, relax. We’ve all been looking forward to getting to know you better.”

With those words and the warmth in the room, you felt some of your lingering tension melt away. You were among allies, in a house so beautifully tended, with plants climbing the windows and laughter in the air. It was easy, in that moment, to let yourself belong just a little more to this court you were slowly making home.

As you settled into a free chair near the hearth, the soft hum of conversation enveloped you. The group arranged themselves in a loose circle of armchairs and sofas, each face illuminated by the gentle firelight and the glow of simple lanterns placed around the room. Feyre had taken a seat beside Rhysand, her hand resting comfortably on his arm, while Cassian lounged near Nesta and Azriel, who remained quietly attentive. Mor perched gracefully on a low ottoman, crossing her long legs with casual elegance, and Amren claimed a small armchair as if it were a throne, her silver eyes keen but not hostile.

Feyre, ever the thoughtful hostess, spoke first. “You’ve just returned from Illyria, haven’t you?” Her voice was warm, genuine curiosity shining through. “Cassian told us a bit about your work there. How did it go?”

You drew a steady breath, aware of more eyes turning your way. “It was… challenging,” you admitted with a half-smile. “The healers were skilled but set in their ways. I managed to introduce a few new techniques. Some were skeptical, but I think a few caught on.”

Cassian gave a snort from his spot by the mantel. “Some of them were more than skeptical. Let’s say they were resistant until they saw the results.” His grin flashed, clearly proud of how you’d handled the situation.

Mor tilted her head, golden curls slipping over one shoulder. “Resistance is standard there,” she said, amused. “I’m impressed you made progress so quickly. Usually, it takes a century or two to change an Illyrian’s mind about anything.”

A ripple of light laughter flowed through the room. Even Nesta’s lips curved slightly, though her gaze remained measured. “They can be stubborn,” Nesta agreed quietly. “But if you got them to listen, you’ve accomplished a minor miracle.”

Azriel’s gaze flicked to you then, calm and thoughtful. “Any particular technique you introduced that might stand out for them?” he asked softly, voice barely above the crackle of the fire. There was interest, maybe respect, underlying the question.

You smoothed a hand over your knee, considering. “I combined some Dawn Court infusion methods with local herbs to create salves that heal burns and cuts faster. Also taught them how to more efficiently close a wound using layered bandaging, so it breathes and doesn’t trap infection.” Your shoulders relaxed as you spoke, talking shop easing the tension in your chest. “It’s subtle changes that matter over time.”

Rhysand inclined his head. “Subtle changes often pave the way for greater shifts. Even if they don’t appreciate it now, they’ll notice the difference when their warriors recover more swiftly.”

Amren’s silver eyes narrowed with interest. “You sound like someone who doesn’t fear digging into traditions,” she commented. “I suppose traveling the continents taught you that?”

A small smile tugged at your lips. “Exactly,” you said. “Every place I visited had a different approach to healing. By the time I returned, I carried a blend of knowledge. Challenging ingrained habits is never easy, but I believe if we show results, people adapt.”

As the conversation in the living room flowed around you, your attention drifted to Azriel, who’d been listening quietly while the others exchanged stories. Under the soft glow of the lamps, he seemed more at ease than the last time you’d seen him—no bandages, no pained tension in his posture. But you knew better than to assume all was perfect.

Leaning forward slightly, you caught his eye. “Azriel,” you began, your voice low enough that the others, caught up in their chatter, wouldn’t be distracted. “How are your injuries feeling now?”

He blinked, as if brought out of private thoughts. The edge of his mouth curved in a faint but genuine smile. “Much better,” he replied softly, voice smooth and controlled. “Your treatments worked wonders.”

A small surge of satisfaction warmed you. “I’m glad. I worried about scarring, especially on the wings, but it seems my methods held.”

Azriel inclined his head, shadows shifting imperceptibly at his shoulders. “They did. I owe you more gratitude than I can put into words.”

You waved a hand dismissively, though not unkindly. “No need for grand thanks. It’s what I do.” After a brief moment, you continued, “If you find yourself running low on ointment or salve—anything for lingering aches—you’re welcome to stop by the clinic. I’ll make sure you have what you need.”

His eyes flickered slightly, a hint of something unreadable passing there. “I’ll keep that in mind,” he said, voice still gentle. “Though I think it’s my turn to follow the rules this time. I won’t risk mixing anything that’s not from your hands.”

A quiet huff of amusement escaped you. “Good,” you said, pleased to note even the faintest humor there. “I’d prefer no more surprise remedies.”

He almost smiled fully at that, and you found yourself relieved—relieved that he’d healed, relieved that you could speak amicably, and relieved that, even amidst lingering complexities, you could offer him help without awkwardness.

Rhysand leaned forward slightly, his attention shifting fully to you. “Your skill with Illyrian wings is… notable,” he said, voice calm and curious. “It’s not often we see someone outside these mountains who can treat wing injuries with such precision. Where did you learn that?”

You swallowed, noticing how everyone’s gaze had angled your way. Azriel’s dark eyes were steady, Cassian’s brows lifted with mild interest, and Mor sipped her wine, listening quietly. “I owe much to Madja,” you said with a small shrug, trying to sound offhanded. “In my youth, under her tutelage, I spent time observing healings of various kinds. When I traveled to the Dawn Court, I worked extensively with peregryns. Between the two experiences, I pieced together techniques that transfer well.”

Rhysand nodded thoughtfully, and you sensed approval rather than suspicion. Feyre offered a gentle smile, as if pleased to understand more about your background. Azriel only gave the faintest tilt of his head, acknowledging your explanation.

Before anyone could delve deeper, the door opened softly, and you all turned. Elain stepped into the room, cradling a small bundle in her arms. The atmosphere shifted; the hush that followed her appearance was softer, lighter. She carried a baby—a tiny figure swaddled in soft linens. At the sight of you, Elain’s eyes went wide, a brief flicker of something like panic crossing her face. She managed a stiff, silent nod in your direction, acknowledging your presence.

She crossed the floor and carefully handed the baby to Feyre before moving to sit next to Azriel. The subtle tension that flared in the air didn’t go unnoticed by you. Seeing her choose a seat near Azriel struck a chord, stirring a quiet ache in your chest. The memory of misunderstandings and the complexities of their relationship hovered in your mind.

Feyre, noticing the moment, turned toward you with a warm, bright smile and the infant cradled securely in her arms. “This is Nyx,” she said softly, pride and love coloring every syllable. She stepped closer, letting you see the baby’s tiny, delicate features, the soft tufts of dark hair. “Our son.”

Your heart softened at the sight, and you drew a careful breath. “He’s beautiful,” you murmured, the tension easing slightly at the simple purity of this introduction. “Congratulations.”

Feyre’s eyes sparkled. “Thank you,” she said, rocking Nyx gently. After a moment, she glanced toward Elain and then back to you. “I should also introduce you to my sister, Elain. But I believe you’ve already met?”

Your eyes darted to Elain, who offered another small, tense smile. “Yes,” you confirmed quietly. “We’ve met.” The memory of the morning with Azriel’s injury still flickered in the back of your mind. Elain’s panic that day, her attempt to help gone wrong.

The baby cooed softly, wriggling a tiny arm free from the swaddle, and Feyre adjusted him tenderly. The simple, gentle act redirected your focus to something simpler and kinder. In that moment, held in Feyre’s arms, Nyx represented a softness and hope that contrasted sharply against the intricate bonds and tensions that wove this inner circle together.

You lifted your gaze, meeting Elain’s eyes briefly. She looked away, cheeks coloring faintly, before focusing on Azriel and the room’s gentle chatter. A hush of understanding passed—whatever had happened before still lingered, unspoken and unresolved, but for tonight, perhaps it could remain beneath the surface, overshadowed by the presence of family and the simple joy of a new life in their midst.

You blinked, noting the tiny, budding wings peeking out from Nyx’s swaddle. It took a moment for the sight to register—Feyre and Rhysand’s child had wings. The world narrowed briefly to that small detail, a realization that sent a pulse of concern through your chest. Memories stirred of the quiet horrors you’d learned about: how some winged births could end tragically if the mother’s body wasn’t prepared.

“Oh,” you said softly, voice hushed. “He has wings.” The words escaped before you could smooth your tone. You turned your gaze to Feyre, eyes wide with a hint of shock. “Are—are you all right?” you asked, concern lacing your voice. You knew how risky such births could be, how many mothers—non-winged mothers—lost their lives or their children. The knowledge spilled out in your startled tone, too raw and honest.

As soon as the question left your lips, you caught yourself. This was personal, deeply so, and it might not be your place to ask. A flush warmed your cheeks, and you cleared your throat softly. “I’m sorry,” you murmured quickly, lowering your eyes. “That was intrusive. I didn’t mean—”

Feyre’s smile was gentle, understanding. She shifted Nyx slightly, rocking him in a way that spoke of deep maternal comfort. “It’s all right,” she said quietly, voice kind and steady. “I know it can be dangerous. It was. But I’m fine now—truly.”

She exhaled softly, sharing a glance with Rhysand who offered a reassuring nod. “We had a lot of support, the best healers, and… let’s just say there were extraordinary circumstances that helped.” Feyre’s tone carried quiet resilience, as if acknowledging a trial endured and overcome.

You let out a breath you hadn’t realized you were holding. Relief and admiration washed over you. “I’m glad,” you said simply, heartfelt. The image of the tiny, safe baby cradled in Feyre’s arms, half winged and wholly loved, took the sting out of your earlier alarm.

Nyx stirred, letting out a small, contented noise, as if confirming that all was indeed well. And so, in that moment, you allowed yourself to trust in their strength and the healing they had found—together, in this extraordinary court.

The dining table was set with care and elegance, an array of dishes spread like a tapestry of flavors and colors. Feyre had returned after settling Nyx down for the night, and now she sat beside Rhysand, her eyes brighter, freer, as though a weight had lifted from her shoulders. You were seated between Amren and Mor, with Azriel directly across from you. The air hummed with conversation, the gentle clink of silverware, and the faint glow of faelight sconces casting a warm gleam over crystal and china.

The food was beyond anything you’d tasted in recent memory—roasted vegetables drizzled with spiced oils, tender meats seasoned to perfection, a fresh salad of night-blooming flowers and herbs that tasted of moonlit gardens. Between bites, you couldn’t help small hums of appreciation. Mor grinned at your delighted expression, whispering that Feyre and Rhys knew how to choose their cooks wisely. Amren, on your left, merely arched an eyebrow, as if such quality was the norm in this household.

Across the table, Rhysand and Feyre spoke quietly with Azriel about the latest developments with Koshiev’s faction. They didn’t hide the topic, but neither did they elaborate on grim details unnecessarily. Still, the tension was palpable.

Cassian, seated beside Nesta, seemed to pick up on the unease radiating from her. He leaned closer, murmuring something low that drew a reluctant smirk from her lips—a rare crack in her otherwise steely demeanor.

The conversation shifted, soft murmurs filling the dining room as everyone seemed to settle into their own thoughts. But your gaze lingered, drawn to the quiet interactions between Azriel and Elain.

They weren’t doing anything outright inappropriate, of course. Yet the way Azriel leaned slightly toward her, his shadows curling faintly around her seat as though they couldn’t help themselves—it was subtle, but unmistakable. And Elain, for all her delicate, quiet nature, didn’t seem to shy away from him. If anything, the small glances she cast in his direction, the way her hand lingered near his on the table, spoke volumes.

Something was going on between those two. That much you were sure of.

But didn’t she have a mate?

The thought gnawed at you. From what you’d learned during your short time with this group, the bond between mates was supposed to be unbreakable, undeniable. A rare gift—or curse, depending on how one saw it. Yet here was Elain, sitting close to Azriel, her mate nowhere to be found.

You couldn’t help but recall the low, tense conversation you’d overheard between Rhysand and Azriel days ago. Their voices had been hushed, but you’d caught enough to piece together fragments. It had been about Elain, about Azriel’s feelings for her—and about how complicated the whole situation was.

Even tonight, the tension was palpable. Rhysand and Feyre avoided looking too long in Azriel and Elain’s direction, as if their mere proximity might ignite something. Cassian’s joviality had dimmed slightly, and even Mor seemed unusually reserved.

You shifted in your seat, the unease settling in your chest like a stone. Whatever was unfolding here felt like a precarious balancing act, one wrong move away from shattering entirely.

It wasn’t jealousy, you told yourself firmly—because at the end of the day, you barely knew him. Whatever flicker of connection you’d felt when you first crossed paths with Azriel had been just that: a flicker.

Still, you couldn’t entirely ignore the truth you’d kept to yourself. That he was your mate.

You hadn’t planned to speak of it, not now, perhaps not ever. What would be the point? He didn’t seem to know, and you weren’t about to disrupt the fragile balance of this group—or his life—by bringing it up.

But watching him now, seeing the way his gaze softened for Elain, the way his shadows seemed drawn to her as if they couldn’t help themselves... it unsettled you.

You reached for your glass of wine, your fingers tightening slightly around the stem. It wasn’t your place to interfere, nor did you want to. And yet, the sight stirred something uncomfortable in you—an ache you couldn’t quite place, an unease that whispered of things better left buried.

For now, you resolved, you would tread carefully. Whatever this was, it wasn’t your story to tell.

As the conversation ebbed and flowed, you caught snippets of Mor and Feyre discussing the upcoming Solstice celebrations. Their voices carried a mix of excitement and warmth, and even those not directly involved in the planning seemed to lean in slightly, drawn by the festive air.

“Everything’s nearly set,” Mor said with a grin, her golden eyes glimmering. “But I still think we need more lights. You can never have too many.”

Feyre laughed softly, shaking her head. “We’re already bordering on blinding half the Sidra with what we’ve got planned.”

“Exactly,” Mor countered. “Bordering. Not quite there yet.”

The exchange drew a small chuckle from the others, and soon the table was animated with chatter about the Solstice—decorations, food, gifts, the music for the evening. You found yourself listening quietly, a faint smile on your lips as their excitement filled the room.

Then Cassian turned to you, curiosity lighting his hazel eyes. “What about you, Y/N? What are you planning for the Solstice?”

You blinked, caught off guard by the question. “Working,” you said simply, as if it were the most obvious answer in the world.

Cassian stared at you, his expression shifting from surprised to faintly unimpressed. “You’re working?” he repeated, as though the concept was completely foreign to him.

You shrugged, taking a sip of your wine. “I gave the night and the day after to the other healers,” you explained matter-of-factly. “They have families to spend it with.”

His blunt stare didn’t waver. “And you don’t?”

The question hung in the air for a beat too long. You didn’t flinch, though. Instead, you gave him a small, wry smile. “Not in the traditional sense,” you replied. “I’ve spent most of my life on the road. Holidays are just... nights like any other to me.”

Mor frowned slightly, her lips parting as though she wanted to say something, but Feyre beat her to it. “You could spend it with us,” she offered warmly, her eyes soft and kind. “If you’re free after your shift, of course.”

You hesitated, glancing around the table at the faces watching you. “That’s kind of you,” you said after a moment, your voice quieter now. “I’ll see how the night goes, but I wouldn’t count on me. Those nights tend to be pretty busy.”

Cassian still didn’t look entirely pleased, but he let the topic drop, turning to Azriel to mutter something under his breath. Across from you, Feyre and Mor resumed their discussion about the preparations, but you noticed the glances they shot your way from time to time.

The Solstice was supposed to be a time of joy, of togetherness. And yet, for you, it had always been a reminder of the distances you’d kept—between yourself and others, between your past and your present. Maybe this year would be different. But you weren’t ready to hope for that just yet.

Nesta, her tone gentle yet curious, asked, “Don’t you have family here in Velaris? Since it’s where you’re from?”

Cassian’s head turned sharply to her, a flicker of something unreadable passing over his face. He looked like he was about to respond, but you stopped him with a soft smile, silently telling him it was okay.

“It’s fine,” you replied, your voice steady but quieter now, the words laced with a faint melancholy. “My parents passed away when I was still a child. And... it wasn’t exactly a union their families approved of. My father was a High Fae, and my mother was Illyrian.”

The table fell silent, the weight of your admission settling over the group.

Feyre’s expression softened, her brows knitting together as if piecing together what your childhood must have been like. Even Amren’s usually sharp gaze seemed to flicker with a faint glimmer of understanding.

Rhysand leaned forward slightly, his elbows resting on the table, his voice low and thoughtful. “A High Fae and an Illyrian,” he mused, his violet eyes locking onto yours with a knowing look. “That couldn’t have been easy for them—or for you.”

You nodded, taking a moment to gather your thoughts. “It wasn’t. My mother’s family saw her as a traitor for leaving the war-camps. And my father’s family... well, let’s just say they weren’t thrilled about him choosing someone they considered beneath him. They tried to make it work, but the rejection on both sides was... hard.”

Rhysand’s lips curved into a faint, understanding smile tinged with something more—perhaps a trace of his own memories. “My parents were mates,” he said softly. “But even that bond didn’t shield my mother from what she endured because she was Illyrian. My father’s court viewed her as an outsider, no matter that she was his equal in every way.”

You glanced at him, surprised by his willingness to share the parallel. A small, genuine smile tugged at your lips. “Then I suppose you understand better than most.”

He inclined his head. “More than you might think. My mother bore the burdens of being Illyrian with grace, but I saw the way it chipped away at her. The way others refused to see her worth simply because of where she came from.”

The room was quiet for a beat longer, the group absorbing the weight of your shared experiences.

“Did they stay in Velaris?” Nesta asked gently, her voice curious but kind.

“They tried,” you said, your voice softening even more. “Velaris was my mother’s dream. She wanted a place where their love could thrive without the judgment of others. But it wasn’t that simple. My father’s family refused to acknowledge me, and my mother’s kin wanted nothing to do with either of us. They both passed when I was young, so... it’s just been me for a long time.”

Cassian shifted, his hand tightening briefly around his glass. He didn’t say anything, but the tension in his body told you all you needed to know—he hated the thought of you enduring that kind of isolation.

“I’m sorry,” Feyre said quietly, her voice warm with empathy.

You offered her a small smile, the sting of the memory softened by time. “It’s all right. I’ve built my life on my own terms since then. And Velaris... it’s still home.”

Rhysand nodded, his gaze steady. “Velaris is the City of Starlight. But it’s also a sanctuary for those who need it. And no matter what, you’ll always have a place here.”

The sincerity in his words caught you off guard, and for a moment, all you could do was nod, your chest tightening with a mix of gratitude and something you couldn’t quite name.

The laughter faded into a comfortable hum, and Rhysand glanced at you again, his tone turning slightly more serious. “Speaking of important matters, are the preparations for your trip to the Dawn Court coming along?”

You nodded, resting your hands on the edge of the table. “It’s going well,” you said. “I’m not rushing, though. The meeting isn’t for a few weeks, so there’s time to finalize everything.”

Azriel, who had been quietly observing, narrowed his eyes slightly. “What meeting?”

You met his gaze evenly. “The head healers of all the courts are gathering to discuss the rising tensions in the world. It’s not something we do often—every ten or twenty years, if that. But given everything that’s been happening lately, it was decided that now’s the time to meet.”

Feyre leaned forward, her brows knitting together in curiosity. “Even though you’ve only recently taken over from Madja, isn’t that going to be... challenging for you?”

Her question was genuine, not unkind, and you offered her a soft smile. “Not as much as you might think,” you replied. “I already know all of them. Either they trained me, or I’ve trained them at some point.”

Cassian let out a low whistle, leaning back in his chair with a grin. “Well, look at you. The prodigy of Prythian’s healers.”

You rolled your eyes at his teasing, though the corners of your mouth twitched in amusement. “Hardly. It’s more about connections and trust. It’s easier to work with people when you’ve already built a rapport.”

“True enough,” Rhysand said, his voice thoughtful. “But there’s still a lot of weight in those meetings. Decisions made there could affect countless lives.”

You nodded, meeting his gaze. “I’m aware. That’s why it’s important we all come together now. We have to be prepared for what might come next, no matter where it starts.”

Cassian broke the tension with a grin. “Still betting it’ll be less of a disaster than a High Lords’ meeting?”

Laughter rippled around the table again, and you shrugged with a playful smirk. “I’d say so. We’re less inclined to argue over who’s the most powerful and more focused on practical solutions.”

“Speak for yourself,” Amren muttered dryly. “I’d argue just for fun.”

The table erupted into laughter, the light-heartedness returning as the conversation shifted to lighter topics once more.

Dinner naturally came to an end, and the group shifted to the living room. The atmosphere turned even more relaxed as the evening stretched on. Cups of tea were passed around for some, while others nursed glasses of wine or stronger spirits. The crackle of the fire in the hearth added a cozy backdrop to the low hum of conversation and occasional laughter.

You found yourself sinking into a plush armchair, your fingers wrapped around a warm mug of tea. The soft glow of the firelight played across the room, highlighting the easy camaraderie between everyone. This wasn’t just a group of warriors and leaders—they were a family. Even in their teasing, you could sense the unshakable bonds that connected them, forged by shared history and unwavering loyalty.

For a brief moment, you allowed yourself to relax, taking in the sight of them. Feyre and Rhysand were curled up together on a loveseat, Cassian sprawled across a large sofa with Mor perched at the other end, her laughter ringing out as he recounted some likely exaggerated tale. Nesta sat nearby, a book in hand, though her attention occasionally drifted to the conversation.

But as your gaze wandered, you noticed something—or rather, someone—missing. Neither Elain nor Azriel was present. The realization sent a small, unwanted pang through your chest, one you quickly buried. Whatever their reasons for leaving, it wasn’t your concern. It couldn’t be.

When your tea was finished, you placed the empty cup delicately on the table before rising to your feet. “Thank you for the lovely evening,” you said, your voice soft but sincere. “But I should head back. There’s still some work I need to wrap up before the night’s over.”

Cassian glanced up from his drink, his grin playful as always. “You’re leaving already? And here I thought Azriel was the workaholic around here, but you might actually be worse.”

His words, though light-hearted, made something twist in your stomach. You tried to brush it off, but then he glanced around the room and added, “Speaking of which... where is Az? Slacking off for once?”

“Leave it, Cassian,” Rhysand interjected smoothly. His voice was calm, but the sharpness in his violet gaze betrayed a flicker of curiosity—or perhaps understanding—as his eyes darted to you. He didn’t press the issue, but the weight of his brief look lingered all the same.

Feyre stood and approached you, her steps fluid and graceful. She wrapped you in a warm hug, her arms firm but gentle. “Thank you for coming,” she said softly. “It was nice having you here. We’ll have to do this again soon.”

You returned the embrace, her kindness settling some of the unease lingering in your chest. “I’d like that,” you replied sincerely, a small smile tugging at your lips.

Cassian’s voice broke through the moment as Feyre stepped back. “You know, if you’re working this late, you might actually give Az a run for his money,” he teased. Then, with a mock thoughtful look, he added, “Though I guess he’s not here to defend his title. Convenient.”

You laughed softly, shaking your head. “Maybe he’s finally taking a well-deserved break,” you said, keeping your tone light as you glanced toward the door.

Rhysand’s gaze followed yours, but he said nothing. The slight quirk of his lips suggested he’d noticed something, but whatever it was, he chose to keep it to himself—for now.

With a final round of goodnights, you stepped out into the cool night air. They were a family, and while you didn’t quite feel like part of it yet, the warmth they’d shown you was undeniable.

As you walked through the quiet streets of Velaris, the crisp night air nipping at your skin, your gaze lifted instinctively to the sky. The stars above were breathtaking—countless pinpricks of light scattered across an endless expanse of velvet black. They seemed so serene, so untouched by the weight of the world below. For a moment, you let yourself be lost in their beauty, your steps slowing as if the universe itself was urging you to pause.

You didn’t notice the tears until a cold droplet slid down your cheek, and then another. Startled, you reached up to brush your fingers against your face, finding your skin wet. Confusion prickled at the edges of your thoughts as you stared at the small drops clinging to your fingertips. You weren’t sad. At least, you didn’t think you were. The evening had been lovely—warm and full of laughter. Yet here you were, crying under the stars.

A hollow ache settled in your chest as you continued walking, the faint echo of your footsteps the only sound in the stillness. You barely knew Azriel. That thought circled your mind like an unrelenting shadow. For all the moments you’d spent stealing glances at him, observing the way he carried himself with quiet strength and grace, there was still so much you didn’t know. So much you might never know.

And then there was the bond. The invisible thread you could feel humming at the edge of your awareness, a constant reminder of something greater, something unasked for. You’d kept it to yourself, not because of secrecy, but because the mere thought of saying it aloud made your stomach twist with apprehension. It wasn’t fair—not to him, not to you.

Forcing a bond on him, on anyone, was the last thing you wanted. Azriel deserved the freedom to choose, the freedom to love without the weight of a bond dictating his path. But even as you told yourself that, a cruel voice in your mind whispered that the bond wasn’t something he would celebrate—not with you as his mate.

What did you have to offer him? Compared to Elain’s gentle beauty and kindness, you felt like a storm—chaotic and unyielding. You’d spent centuries honing your skills, fighting battles, making sacrifices. Vulnerability wasn’t something you knew how to share.

A sharp breath escaped you, your hands curling into fists as your pace quickened. The tears came faster now, silent but persistent, blurring the cobblestones underfoot. It wasn’t sadness, you told yourself again. It was confusion, frustration, maybe even fear.

You weren’t sure when the walls you’d built around yourself had started to crack, but tonight, surrounded by the warmth of the Inner Circle, you’d felt something shift. It wasn’t just about Azriel. It was about family, connection, belonging—things you’d never let yourself hope for, let alone believe you could have.

But as much as you’d enjoyed the night, as much as you’d appreciated their kindness, you couldn’t shake the feeling of being an outsider looking in. They cared for each other deeply, their bonds unbreakable. And you? You were just passing through, a healer with a tangled past and an uncertain future.

The stars blurred as fresh tears welled up, and you stopped in your tracks, tilting your head back to let the cool night air soothe your burning cheeks. You didn’t know what you were crying for—what you were mourning. Maybe it was for the family you’d lost long ago, or the life you might have had if things had been different. Maybe it was for the bond you hadn’t asked for but couldn’t ignore.

Or maybe, it was for the fragile hope buried deep within you—the hope that one day, you might find a place where you truly belonged.

——

Azriel’s POV

Azriel exhaled a quiet breath as he stepped into the crisp night air, the faint sounds of the dinner fading behind him. The garden of the townhouse was peaceful, blanketed in a soft glow from the moon above. Elain walked beside him, her delicate frame tucked into a thick coat, her hands gripping the fabric tightly against the chill.

The silence stretched between them, comfortable at first. But as they wandered further down the winding paths, Elain drew closer, her arm brushing his. He glanced at her briefly, noticing the faint pink on her cheeks—not from the cold, but something else.

It was when they reached the edge of the garden, where the view of Velaris spread wide and glittering below, that she finally spoke.

"Azriel," she said softly, her voice hesitant.

He turned to face her, noting the awkward expression on her face, the way her hands twisted nervously in front of her. “What is it?” he asked, his tone calm, though a flicker of concern stirred in his chest.

Elain hesitated, her gaze darting away before meeting his again. “Are you sure...we can trust Y/N?”

Azriel blinked, her question catching him off guard. Of all the things he’d anticipated her saying, this hadn’t been one of them. “Why wouldn’t we?” he asked, frowning slightly.

Elain’s lips pressed into a thin line. “It’s just...the way she talks, the way she carries herself. There’s something...off about her.”

Azriel tilted his head, studying her closely. He hadn’t missed Y/N’s sharp tongue during the meeting at the House of Wind, but her words had been purposeful, her actions deliberate. If Elain was referring to that, it didn’t make sense for her to hold it against Y/N.

“She was doing her job,” Azriel said carefully, keeping his tone neutral. “If this is about what happened at the House of Wind—”

“It’s not just that,” Elain interrupted, her voice rising slightly before softening again. She looked at him with wide, almost pleading eyes. “You don’t realize the way she spoke to me. The way she...looked at me. It was—” She broke off, shaking her head.

Azriel’s frown deepened. He couldn’t recall Y/N being anything but professional, but Elain’s tone suggested she felt otherwise. Still, he wasn’t one to jump to conclusions without evidence.

“Elain,” he said gently, “what exactly are you saying? Is there something specific that’s made you doubt her?”

She hesitated again, her gaze dropping to the ground. Then, after a moment, she said, “I just...feel like she’s hiding something. A lot of things. And it’s not just her past—it’s her power, Azriel. It’s unsettling. What if she’s here for something else? What if she’s working for Koschei?To attack us from the inside?”

Her voice grew more frantic as she spoke, her words tumbling over one another in a rush of worry.

Azriel’s jaw tightened, though he kept his expression calm. He reached out, placing a steadying hand on her shoulder. “Elain,” he said firmly, his voice a quiet anchor. “You’re overthinking this.”

Her eyes flicked up to meet his, uncertainty flickering there.

“She’s not here to harm anyone,” Azriel continued. “If she were, we would’ve seen signs by now. And even if there were any truth to your fears, I’m keeping a close eye on her.”

Elain’s lips parted slightly, but she didn’t interrupt as he added, “Nothing bad will happen while I’m around. I won’t allow it.”

For a moment, Elain simply looked at him, her expression softening at his words. She nodded slowly, though the tension in her shoulders didn’t completely ease.

“I trust you, Azriel,” she said quietly, her voice barely above a whisper.

Azriel gave her a faint nod, his gaze steady. But as they turned to head back toward the townhouse, a shadow of doubt lingered in his mind—not about Y/N, but about the seeds of mistrust Elain had tried to plant.

Elain bid Azriel a soft goodnight, her steps retreating up the stairs until they faded entirely. Azriel lingered in the quiet of the garden for a moment longer, the chill of the night seeping into his skin as he let his mind turn over her words. Doubt, no matter how unwarranted, was a dangerous thing to sow.

Pushing the thoughts aside, he made his way back to the living room. Feyre, Mor, and Nesta were nowhere to be seen, their laughter and conversations long gone. Only Rhysand and Cassian remained, seated comfortably with drinks in hand.

“There he is,” Cassian said with a smirk, raising his glass. “Thought you’d vanished into the shadows for good this time.”

Azriel ignored the jab, heading straight for the sideboard. He poured himself a generous glass of whiskey, the amber liquid catching the firelight, and crossed the room to join them. He lowered himself into one of the armchairs, cradling the glass in his hand before taking a long sip.

“You missed the part where we solved all the world’s problems,” Cassian quipped, but there was a lightness to his tone.

Azriel shot him a look but didn’t rise to the bait. Instead, he turned to Rhysand, his expression thoughtful. “Did you know about Y/N being half Illyrian and half High Fae?”

Rhysand raised a brow, leaning back in his seat. “Madja mentioned it to me when I first spoke with her about Y/N, but beyond that, no. Y/N hasn’t shared much about her personal life—at least not with me.”

Azriel frowned slightly, swirling the whiskey in his glass. “She’s been...secretive.”

“That’s not surprising,” Rhysand said, his voice calm. “She’s lived a long life, Azriel. People who’ve endured as much as she likely has aren’t quick to share their scars.”

Cassian shrugged, setting his empty glass on the table with a faint clink. “It’s not uncommon, though, is it? Half Illyrians without wings? The camps might not like to talk about it, but it happens more often than they’d admit.”

Azriel’s shadows curled faintly around his shoulders, his gaze distant. “It’s not just that. She’s...different. There’s a weight to her that’s hard to ignore.”

Rhysand regarded him carefully, his violet eyes sharp. “What are you trying to say, Az?”

Azriel hesitated, the words forming slowly. “She doesn’t seem like someone who’s just here to replace Madja or take up the work of healing. There’s more to her, something she’s not saying.”

Rhysand nodded thoughtfully. “She’s a healer, yes, but she’s also a warrior. And from what I’ve gathered, she’s someone who’s fiercely loyal to those she chooses to protect. That doesn’t mean she owes us every detail of her life.”

Cassian leaned forward, resting his forearms on his knees. “It’s not like we’ve shared all our dirty laundry with her either. Hell, Az, you’ve been watching her like a hawk since she got here, and she hasn’t so much as flinched. If she were hiding something dangerous, don’t you think she’d have slipped up by now?”

Azriel didn’t respond immediately, his shadows whispering quietly in his ears. He took another sip of whiskey, letting the burn settle in his throat.

“I’m not saying she’s a threat,” he said finally. “But there’s something...unsettling about not knowing where she stands. Especially now, with everything happening in Prythian.”

Rhysand sighed, his expression softening. “You’re not wrong to be cautious, Az. But until she gives us a reason to doubt her, we owe her the benefit of the doubt. She’s earned that much through her work alone.”

“Relax, brother,” Cassian said with a chuckle. “Not everyone is out to stab us in the back. Besides, if she wanted to, she’s had plenty of chances.”

The conversation lulled, the crackling of the fire filling the silence. Azriel leaned back in his chair, the whiskey warming him from the inside out. Despite Cassian’s teasing and Rhysand’s reassurances, the unease in his chest didn’t fully fade.

He’d keep watching. Just in case.

Rhysand shifted in his seat, his sharp gaze settling on Azriel. His expression was calm, but there was a note of seriousness in his voice as he spoke. “Maybe it’s time for you to look elsewhere, brother. To seek someone who could truly bring you peace.”

Azriel sighed heavily, the sound filled with equal parts exhaustion and frustration. He swirled the amber liquid in his glass, staring into it as if the whiskey held answers he couldn’t find.

Cassian, never one to miss an opportunity, smirked. “You know, Az, Rhys might actually have a point for once. The world won’t end if you let yourself—”

Azriel’s sharp glare cut him off, but it was Rhysand who pressed on, his tone gentle but firm. “Listen, brother, I’m not here to tell you how to live your life or whom to care for. But Lucien is coming back to Velaris for the Solstice, and I don’t want you to—”

Azriel’s head snapped up, and his voice was cold and clipped as he interrupted. “You didn’t have to invite him.”

Rhysand’s brows rose slightly, but his voice remained steady. “He is her mate, Azriel. Whether we like it or not, that bond exists. Ignoring it won’t make it disappear.”

Azriel’s jaw tightened, his shadows curling more protectively around him. “I’m well aware of that, Rhys. But you didn’t need to bring him here. Solstice is for family.”

Cassian leaned forward slightly, holding up a hand as if to diffuse the tension. “Alright, let’s all take a deep breath. It’s been a long day, and we don’t need to—”

“I don’t need your advice,” Azriel snapped, cutting him off as well. His voice was calm but laced with a quiet, simmering anger. He stood, setting his glass down with more force than necessary. “I’m grown enough to make my own decisions, and I don’t need either of you meddling in my personal life.”

Rhysand’s violet eyes followed Azriel carefully, a flicker of something unspoken passing between them. But he didn’t press further, simply nodding once.

Cassian leaned back in his chair, muttering under his breath, “Well, that went well.”

Azriel didn’t respond, his shadows coiling around him as he turned and left the room. He felt their eyes on him as he walked away, but he didn’t look back.

As he stepped into the cool night air, the weight of their words still lingered. His chest felt tight, his thoughts a tangled mess of anger, guilt, and something he couldn’t quite name. He didn’t know what he wanted anymore. Or maybe he did, and that was the problem.

----

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[filmabyy]

«Heart On The Window» Cho Hyun-ju x Male!Reader Part 1?

Cho Hyun-ju x Male reader!

Summary: Y/N has always had a crush on her neighbor across the street, Hyun-ju. He has never had the courage to speak a word to her. Until one day they meet again in the most unexpected place.

«English is not my first language and I'm sorry if I get some words wrong» 😔���

The sound of the alarm clock early in the morning woke Y/N from a deep sleep. When he opened his eyes, he felt an empty feeling in his chest, like an inexplicable nostalgia.

He got out of bed, got dressed, and put the finishing touches on his uniform. However, the sky was overcast and the weather seemed as gloomy as his emotions.

Just as he was about to leave the house, something caught his attention: the neighbor across the street was leaving her apartment. It was Cho Hyun-ju.

Although they had barely ever spoken, Y/N always saw Hyun-ju from her door or sometimes they passed each other in the elevator, every day at the same time. His gaze would linger on her and his heart would race slightly.

But he never found the courage to approach her and talk to her... He didn't think he was someone handsome, someone who could catch someone's attention because of his beauty. He just wanted to catch someone's attention and that someone was only Hyun-ju.

That morning, Hyun-ju seemed to be taking longer than usual. Her gaze was lost, as if something was tormenting her. Y/N watched her from afar, growing increasingly worried. What could be tormenting this beautiful girl?.

He gathered his courage and approached her cautiously. “Oh, hello Hyun-ju…” He greeted her in a soft tone with a shy smile. Trying to feign confidence, him nervously grabbed the straps of his backpack as he stood beside her to wait for the elevator as well.

Hyun-ju turned around upon hearing his voice. She looked a little surprised to see the Y/N greeting her. She smiled slightly, but it was clear that she was distracted from something else.

“Hello…” She replied in a soft tone, and returned her gaze to her phone in hand.

"What a busy day, huh?" Him asked timidly. But he mentally scolded himself for the somewhat silly question.

It was obvious that he was having a busy day but he didn't know what to ask anymore, the words wouldn't come out. And he let go of the straps of his backpack to play with his hands, it was a hint of nervousness that he usually had.

And he tried to start a conversation but he was probably being stupid.

How could he not be when the pretty woman was by his side and made his heart beat faster with just her presence.

Hyun-ju sighed deeply. Her seemed a little exhausted and distracted. “Yeah, too much…” She said, her gaze fixed on her phone.

She was short on time and the elevator was about to arrive, so she was aware that the reader was trying to be nice.

Seeing her, he tried to lighten the mood a bit and maybe make her feel comfortable.

“I understand… as my grandmother used to say, after the storm there’s a rainbow right around the corner.” He said jokingly and laughed softly as he looked at her.

Him was trying to take the awkwardness out of the conversation, but he was probably being a weird jerk. If she saw him, his grandmother would surely scold him for how silly he was acting.

Hyun-ju laughed softly, her expression relaxing a little at Y/N joke. "I hope so," she replied with a small sigh.

The elevator arrived, and the doors opened in front of them.

The two of them entered the elevator in silence. It was the opportune moment to continue talking, or to stay quiet and keep their distance.

After a silence, I turned around to look at her and admire her at the same time.

That was the effect Cho Hyun-ju had on him.

"You know... ehh... I know we don't know each other very well but if you need help with something... you can knock on my door, you know... between neighbors we help each other." He joked the last bit and fell down a few seconds later.

*You're acting like a weirdo, react*

He told himself mentally and looked back in front of him. He had surely made Hyun-ju uncomfortable and maybe ruined it with a few words.

Hyun-ju seemed a little surprised by Reader's offer, but soon sounded grateful. "Thank you," she replied softly, as her gaze met his. And she gave him a gentle smile.

At that moment, Y/N could see that beautiful sparkle in his eyes. And she almost fell over if it weren't for the fact that he was gathering strength to maintain the composure of a love-struck fool.

It was the first time she had conversed with him seriously, and his presence had already lightened her mood a little.

The elevator was close to reaching the lobby and the door was about to open.

They both disconnected their conversation and headed to the lobby of the building. As they headed towards the door of the place, silence filled the space again.

Would he have the courage to say something else to her? The moment was still there, waiting for a word, a question, a gesture, an acknowledgement of the other's presence.

It was his chance to invite her to eat something or something she liked to do. He had to muster up the courage and do it. It was just a few words and that was all.

Could he do it or not?.

Because everything seemed to be so difficult for him.

Without further ado, his steps stopped at the door of the small hall and he looked at Hyun-ju.

Before he could say anything else, her words simply played a trick on him.

"Goodbye Hyun-ju..." He reluctantly said goodbye to her.

Hyun-ju stopped at the sound of his farewell and turned to look at him.

His gaze finally connected with Y/N's, and a sort of sense of recognition flashed across his expression.

"Bye, Y/N. See you later." She said as he gave her a small smile.

Though there weren't many words, that brief exchange of goodbyes seemed to have dissipated some of the tension of the moment.

The connection felt brief, but meaningful...

As Y/N walked away, the feeling of sadness and self-loathing settled in his chest.

He knew he was a fool for not being able to communicate with Hyun-ju properly, for not having the courage to get closer to her.

What would have happened if he took more of a risk?.

Doubt flooded his mind, and the weight of the lost opportunity became more visible with each step he took away from the building.

But only time would tell, he just had to gather more courage and try to start more conversations so she could get to know him better and feel comfortable talking to each other.

I had to keep trying.

[vividdreamer]

Now that the hype has died down a bit I have something to say to the class.... I did not like season 2 of Arcane 😭

This season felt like avengers endgame. Every plot was hastily tied up so that Viktor could play god. I still don't understand what was going on with Mel and I don't care to look it up because that's not the point. The plot and character arcs in season 1 were so, SO good, and everything was spaced out just right. Season 2 had more time skips and characters going a complete 180 of their personalities SO FAST. Even JINX's overall change in her behavior and mood in Act 1 made no sense to me. Some were saying she's changed so much because Silco's influence was gone, but i disagree; it takes a long, LONG time to regulate your mood when you leave a toxic, controlling, aggressive father-figure. It takes years for some!

Netflix just CAN NOT comprehend the concept of a third season, ever. My conspiracy theory is that the writers wanted more seasons, and that season 2 was supposed to end with Cait ascending to power. But at some point it became undeniable that if they dont wrap it up sooner Netflix is gonna cancel. Some are saying it's actually Riot Games that wanted to quickly move to producing a show set in Noxus...but when you watch season 1 again it's really hard to believe that's the true case. There's just too much passion there to think they could just drop the ball like that.

It's so clear this was just grandpa-capitalism ruining the family function AGAIN. I get it yall. I GET IT. I APPRECIATE THE LESSON GUYS. This was the best animated series I ever jumped into, I'm so fucking sad. If even THIS couldnt be done right what hope do i have for the future of TV and film?