#while she’s still cuffed | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

baocean · 1 month ago

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i tried to be good, am i no good?

pairing ⋆✴︎˚｡⋆ criminal!jj x sheriffsdaughter!reader

synopsis ⋆✴︎˚｡⋆ you were supposed to be safe, quiet, clean. sheriff’s daughter, sweet southern manners, reputation stitched into the hem of every dress. but jj maybank was all cigarette smoke and hands cuffed behind his back, and you’ve been wanting him since seventeen. he didn't look at you back then, not like he does now. and you pretend nothing’s happening, you still say your grace and keep the front door locked. but the window stays open. and his bruises look better when they're yours.

warnings ⋆✴︎˚｡⋆ smut (minors stay away get out), choking, very brief mention of slapping, jj lowk being mean during smut, kinddd of almost getting caught, mentions of christianity and reader being minorly religious, afab!reader, swearing

notes ⋆✴︎˚｡⋆ word count - 6kish words! inspired by 'crush' & 'strangers' by ethel cain. (edit: my admiration and credit belongs to @princessbrunette! they wrote a fic inspired by crush first, it is amazing and wonderful pls go read it! thanks anon)

you hadn't planned to stay long. just long enough to drop off the sandwich, the salad, the sweet tea in a mason jar to your dad, because he'd forgotten his lunch at home again.

it's hot out today and you shiver when you step inside the kildare county sheriff's office from the ac blowing. its quiet- no one is behind the front desk, there's no drunken yells coming from the holding cells. there's a radio humming 60's country music on low, but that's it.

it smells like floor wax and old coffee. you cross the lobby slow, careful not to make too much noise, keys still hooked around your finger.

you're headed to your dad's office, mentally preparing for the lecture you'll probably recieve for wearing a skirt this short, when the slam of a metal door against wall makes you jolt.

the first thing you see is your dad- kildare's sheriff, locally loved and adolescently dispised. he's got that look on his face that can only mean someone's managed to piss him off in the hour and twenty minutes he's been working, or he already knows about the length of your skirt.

it's the first one. your dad’s dragging someone in by the elbow. shirt stained, hair a mess, hands cuffed behind his back, and grinning.

your stomach drops. jj maybank.

you recognize him immediately. how could you not? his file lives in your dad’s top drawer. his name was muttered like a curse word at the dinner table. this is his second time this week getting brought in. something about a fight, something about resisting.

he's the kid who’s been in and out of this station so many times, he probably knows the code to the back door. he's the boy your mother didn’t even bother warning you about. she assumed you had enough sense to know better.

but maybe she should have taken the thirty seconds it does to ward you off him. because the crush you have on jj maybank? it's not the cute kind, it's not the kind you say out loud. it's sickening and a little humilating.

you feel kind of bad for it. you're the sweetest girl in town, getting straight a's in college, you can’t even say the word sex without getting red in the face. but still, you want him to press your face to the mattress and say 'so polite for everyone else, huh? let’s see how polite you are for me'.

sickening.

you didn’t know him, not really, but you knew of him. everyone did. that’s just how it works on a place like this, the island’s too small to hide anyone, especially not someone like jj.

he was a year older than you. he graduated, barely, from the public school on the island, got into fights, spent half his week in this here police station. while you had been kildare acadamy trained, clean reputation, polite. raised on yes sir, no ma’am, and don’t ever go near that maybank boy.

you've only spoken once, technically, if you want to count the time he held the door for you. lip split, blonde craze curling out from under his hat, he didn’t even look up at first.

you stepped past him, said 'thank you', real quiet, polite, like you were supposed to. he glanced up just long enough to say 'no problem, sweetheart' and then he was gone.

and that was it. so oviously, you've convinced yourself that you're a creep.

jj is still getting dragged across the lobby by your father.

“you’re really startin’ to make this a habit, sheriff,” he says. “you miss me or somethin’?”

your dad grits his teeth, but doesn’t answer. he looks over at you, huffing out a smile. "hey, kid."

jj looks up, and then he sees you. he actually stops walking for half a second, forces your dad yank him forward again. but his eyes stay locked on you, his head tilts like he’s trying to remember if you’ve ever spoken.

his eyes drag over you, slow and curious, like you don’t match the picture in his head.

then, he smiles. "afternoon, sweetheart."

you wondered if he had somehow, magically remembered what he had called you the first and only time you interacted with him, or if he just called every girl that.

he turns to your dad. “you ever get nervous lettin’ her walk around like that?”

your father tightens his grip on the cuffs. “watch your mouth, maybank.”

jj grins wider, eyes never leaving you. “just sayin’. you're braver than i thought."

“that’s my daughter."

jj’s eyebrows lift. “lucky man." his lips fall into a line, nodding his head. "she looks just like her mama."

you hide a jaw drop. his head tilts, then shakes it with approval.

they make it to the other end of the lobby, before your dad stops and yanks jj with him. he turns, giving you that look you're sure jj put on his face earlier.

"that thing's real short, kid."

"yeah, completely makes up for gettin' arrested, though. actually, i think i'll even thank you for this one, michael."

your father shoves him foward so hard jj stumbles, shoulder hitting the frame. he probably would've fallen if not for the hostile grip your dad had on the cuffs. but jj’s still smiling.

they pass through the doorway, the door slams behind them. and you’re left standing in a silence that buzzes.

you see him again five days later.

you're in the gas station, picking through the cold drinks while you wait for the gas pump to fill your car.

"look who it is."

you turn, and there he is, standing with just enough distance that it makes you kind of fidgety. his arms are crossed and he's already smirking like he won't end up in holding tonight.

you force your face into something neutral, pleasant, indifferent. like your heart isn’t already racing just from the sound of his voice.

“jj." you say carefully.

“you remember my name. i’m touched.”

you roll your eyes and walk toward the counter. he follows, slow.

“cute dress,” he says, like it’s nothing. like he didn’t just burn that image into his brain, “real sweet."

"thank you. you done?"

“not tryin' to cause a scene, sweetheart. just surprised, is all. figured you were only allowed out with a badge escort.”

“funny,” you say flatly, plucking a pack of gum from the display and tossing it next to your drink. “you been working on your material?”

he doesn’t answer right away, just watches you with that same unreadable look. the one that makes your stomach coil even when you tell yourself it shouldn’t.

“how fast do'ya think your dad would put a bullet in me if i kissed you?”

you go still. not in that flustered, overdramatic kind of way, but in that real kind of still. like your brain forgot how to move your mouth.

he doesn’t even look at you when he says it. just taps the cap of the soda bottle against the counter, head tilted slightly like he’s already picturing it.

the cashier hands you your change, not without a look of concern, and you walk out into the sun, hoping it'll hide your reaction to him.

jj doesn’t let more than two seconds pass before he pushes through the door behind you.

"okay, that was a joke. not really, but kind of."

you glance back at him, quick. he's a few steps behind, already squinting from the north carolina sun.

"it was a bad one."

"you got somewhere to be?"

you don't look back at him. your hand’s tight around your keys, your other fidgeting with the edge of your drink. “…no.”

“then come for a drive.”

your head snaps up, brows raised. “with you?”

he nods like it's simple, like it was obvious.

"why would i do that?" you ask, eyes flicking between the gas pump and him.

“beats standin’ here tryin’ to pretend we’re not both thinkin’ about it.”

you swear your whole body locks up, again. he didn't know...did he? no, he couldn't possibly know about the way you think of him at night. but the way he talks like he does makes a silent shiver run down your spine.

you take a deep breath a shake your head. "you aren't funny."

the gas pump clicks as jj laughs, you pull it out and replace it with the gas cap.

“wasn’t tryin’ to be. you comin’?”

you stand there, looking at him. he's smiling, like always, his shirt is stained with something black and is cut at the sleeves.

you hear your dad's voice in your head after the event at the station five days ago, comments made after arresting jj and then coming home and pointing a fork at you during dinner. “next time he looks at you like that, you walk away.”

you should walk away. you should politely decline and then run for the hills like he's chasing you.

“…you gonna bring me back?”

he grins, slow and tooth-biting. "promise."

the passenger side door creaks when he pulls it open for you. the seat’s hot, the truck smells like sun warmed leather and gas station gum and something darker, sweat and smoke and boy.

he drives with one hand on the wheel, arm lazy out the window. the breeze messes up your hair, but you don't try and fix it.

the road’s all winding road down by the lighthouse, no one on the road, no reason to feel this tense except for the boy driving like he’s got all the time in the world and none of it’s clean.

you’re hyperaware of the way his arm brushes the console between you, the way his knee shifts when he laughs. the way you keep crossing and uncrossing your legs, trying to shake the warmth climbing up your body.

he’s talking about something dumb, some fight on the beach, some busted cooler and a stolen fishing pole, and then he stops mid-sentence.

“hold up,” he says, low and casual, like it’s nothing. “you got somethin’ right there.”

before you can ask, his hand’s already in your space. his fingers brush over your shoulder, then up, slow and careful, until they find a little piece of something caught in your hair. maybe a leaf, maybe thread, maybe nothing at all.

he pulls it free but doesn't drop his hand. just twirls the same lock of your hair around his finger. once, twice.

you're staring at him with your lips parted, his eyes out onto the road as if he doesn't have you wrapped around his finger, figuratively and literally.

your breath hiccups. he doesn’t look at you, doesn’t smile, just keeps twirling, like it’s the most normal thing in the world.

and then he tugs. gentle, light, barely a pull.

he lets go like it’s nothing, but it doesn't stop you from gasping, only loud enough for jj to grin.

he flicks the piece of fuzz out the window, and leans back into his seat. “should see your face right now.”

you roll your eyes, uncross and recross your legs. you can't help the pink that appears on your cheeks as you stare out the winow.

jj looks you over again. looks at your hair, your jaw, your hands placed politely in your lap, your thighs.

he breathes out a shaky breath, almost like he's in awe he's got a girl like you here with him.

“your dad’s gonna kill me." he says after a beat. he says it with a little humor behind it, but even jj knows it's no joke.

"guess you better make it worth it, then."

the ballroom smells like citrus polish and catered chicken. everyone’s dressed in their best, firefighters in borrowed jackets, town councilmen in suits that haven’t fit right in a decade. your dad sits tall at your side, name printed on a place card in the center of the table. your mom keeps adjusting the silverware.

you’re in a long, light blue dress with a low neckline and bare shoulders, earrings your aunt lent you, and heels that look really good, but don't feel good.

and of course, jj has magically managed to weasel his way into this event as a waiter.

he's dressed in black slacks and a crisp white shirt, sleeves cuffed to the elbows. hair combed but already falling out of place. there's a bruise shadows the left side of his jaw. he looks so out of place he might as well be glowing.

he's next to you before you know it. a hand appears at your side, steadying your glass. a second later, the sound of ice water pouring, slow and quiet.

you glance down. his sleeve brushes your arm. “miss.” he says.

he leans in just a little closer, not enough for anyone to take a second glance, but enough. “you look real sweet tonight.”

you tuck away a smile, a subtle hand reaching out to give a harsh tug at his belt, like that'll silence him.

he just lets out a breathy laugh, wandering over to the next table without giving anyone at yours a second thought.

the speeches start twenty minutes later, and you find a decent excuse to sneak outside before you're stuck in there listening to your dad's deputy talk about community.

you lean back against the stone railing, chin tilted up toward the stars you can barely see past the glow of streetlamps and floodlights. your heart’s still beating a little fast. too fast for someone who just needed air.

"knew i'd find you hidin' out here."

you turn, but you're not surprised. you were hoping he would follow you. hoping he would have some slimy, annoying thing to mutter under his breath.

jj’s already halfway to you, hands in his pockets, sleeves rolled, shirt slightly untucked like he’s been messing with it all night.

“how long’d you wait before following me?” you ask, leaning back against the railing.

“waited long enough to make it seem like i didn’t.”

you sigh. jj steps up beside you, quiet for a moment. he smells like smoke and heat and cologne he probably stole. the bruise on his cheek looks worse under the glow of the patio lights.

you smile a little despite yourself. “you’re not even supposed to be here.”

“yeah, well,” he says, inching even closer, “lucky for you, i’m real good at bein’ in places i shouldn’t.”

you laugh, eyes flicking over him, bruised knuckles, undone top button, the way his hand brushes the edge of the railing next to yours like he knows he’s already too close.

“you never shut up, do you?”

he gasps, loudly. “woah. little miss raised-to-be-polite tellin’ me to shut my mouth?”

you glare. “jj-”

“no, no,” he says, all mock-offended. “what would your mama think?”

you shove his shoulder, failing to hide your grin. “don’t bring my mother into this, jerk.”

he grins, not wide, but slow, lazy.

“mhm.” he tilts his head. “you always this mouthy when you wanna kiss someone?”

your breath stutters. you blink at him and say his name all stern like.

“what?” he says, voice low now, soft at the edges. he holds his hands up like it's absolutely not his fault you're in this situation. “you told me to shut up. i’m just sayin’...there’s better ways.”

you don’t answer, you just step forward and kiss him.

you don’t warn him. don’t ask for the first time in your life. just grab his shirt in your fist and pull him down to meet you.

and for half a second, jj freezes like he wasn’t expecting you to actually do it. but he's moving again after a millisecond.

his hands find your hips, not soft, not questioning, and he pulls. drags you in until your chest hits his, until there’s no air left between you. his fingers flex against the fabric of your dress, not like he’s holding you, like he’s molding you into the shape he wants.

his mouth is hot, moving over yours like he’s got something to prove, as if he needs to show you exactly what you’ve been missing.

it's like a dream. this is probably what taking drugs feels like. you can't feel your limbs all the way, and you feel like you're floating.

then, you think you hear something. a laugh, a door, a creak maybe. maybe you're just so paranoid from kissing the kid who has his own personal cell at the station.

you try to pull back, just an inch. jj doesn’t let you. he's already finding his way back to you, muttering something like 'don't' as his lips crash into yours again.

it's rougher this time, messier, like he’s trying to drown whatever part of you was second-guessing. like he needs you distracted, breathless, his just a little longer.

and when he finally steps away from you, quickly checking over his shoulder to make sure someone wasn't running to go tell on you two. jj turns back to you, lips parted. then that grin returns, bigger than before.

he's breathless, pupils blown, lips pink from kissing you too long and too hard.

you look up at him, he’s beautiful in this light. ruined and smug and golden. an absolute wet dream that you'll be replaying in your head tonight.

“don’t follow me in,” you say, soft, still smiling.

“’course not.” he grins. there's a beat of silence as you walk past him, letting your fingers graze across his stomach just because you could. over his shoulder he says, “see you in five.”

you took a little more time getting ready this morning, just a little. a little more mascara, a little smoother with the hair, a dress you wouldn’t normally reach for on a saturday. nothing dramatic, nothing obvious, just soft enough, just pretty enough.

jj maybank is outside.

he’s shirtless, slick with sweat, halfway disappeared under the hood of your dad’s truck. he showed up twenty minutes ago with a smile like he wasn’t late. your dad, clearly annoyed but cornered, muttered something about a deal- fix the alternator and maybe next time he gets caught trespassing, the cuffs stay in the glovebox.

your eyes damn near bugged out of your head when your father explained it over cereal this morning. you haven't seen jj since you kissed almost a week ago, it's been killing you. so yes, you sprinted up the stairs and then destroyed your closet getting ready.

you're trying to make yourself look as busy as possible in the kitchen when he walks in. he's wiping grease off his hands with a rag and wearing that smug, sun warmed smile.

“your dad’s still cussing at the alternator,” jj says, casually grabbing your glass of water off the counter and taking a sip. “figured i’d come see my favorite girl.”

"sure, help yourself." you try and sound annoyed as you point to your stolen glass, it does not come out the way you want.

he tips his head up with a smile as to say 'thank you', then steps closer to you.

you can’t breathe. jj's still very shirtless. he smells like sun and motor oil and whatever trouble’s been festering between you since friday night.

“you haven’t called.” you say, voice smaller than you meant it to be.

“you haven’t either.”

that stops you. you open your mouth, then close it again.

jj watches you, gaze dragging over your face like he’s memorizing it, like he missed it more than he wants to admit.

“miss me?”

you tuck your lips and shake your head no, even though you're smiling, even though you're leaning against the counter like you're willing to do all the work for him.

he leans in a little, and you think maybe he's finally gonna kiss you again, before he glances toward the hallway and goes, “wait. which room’s yours?”

you freeze. “jj-”

he doesn’t even wait for permission. just tosses the rag on the counter and starts walking.

“jj, no-”

he opens the bathroom door, mutters 'not that one', and then continues. you close the bathroom door while you're trailing behind him.

you’re still whispering like it’ll help, like your mom won’t hear if you keep your voice at a hiss while chasing a shirtless felon down the hall. he ignores you completely.

he opens the last door on the left and stops in the doorway. he lets out a low chuckle and you freeze behind him. but he’s already stepping inside before you can stop him.

your bedroom is small, soft. quiet pinks and warm creams. throw blankets and stacked books and a half-open window letting in the breeze. a few dried flowers in a jar on your nightstand, a line of perfume bottles on the dresser, little sea-glass trinkets from the beach, half your closet is still sitting on your bed.

jj takes all of one second to look around before letting out a low whistle.

“you know,” he murmurs, stepping away slowly, “i thought about this. you, what your room would look like.”

“yeah?”

“mhm. oh, totally knew you'd have a diary.” he grabs it from your nightstand, flipping through it without asking, humming.

you tear it from his hands, hoping he didn't see one of the thousands of times you've written his name in there, and toss it on the bed. “you’re such a jerk.”

he grins. his eyes land on your mirror, the cluttered edge of it, where a few photos are tucked into the frame, polaroids, memories. one in particular, slightly off-center, corners curling just the tiniest bit. jj steps closer.

“don’t even think about it.” your voice is laced with attitude, and you're already moving forward.

he ignores you again, plucking the photo from the mirror like it was his to take.

“jj.”

he doesn’t even look at you, just turns the polaroid over in his fingers to show you the photo, head tilted, a faint smirk tugging at his mouth.

it's the one of you at the beach, wearing some bikini the preacher at your church would force you into confessional for. you're laughing, your hair is all over the place, blowing in the wind.

“yeah,” he says. “this is coming with me.”

your jaw drops. “no, it's not.”

he shrugs. "sure about that?"

you snatch for it, but he's learned his lesson from the diary, and he lifts it higher. the smirk widening, like he lives to make you reach for things you shouldn’t want.

“what are you even gonna do with it?” you snap, crossing your arms, trying to cover the way your cheeks are burning.

he just stares at it, nodding like he's figuring it out in his head. then, he grins.

“gonna keep it under my pillow,” he says, voice low and warm, “until i fuck you in this exact bikini.”

you go completely still. heat explodes across your face, down your neck, in your fingertips. your jaw goes slack, your brain empties, your attitude? gone, totally gone.

"then i'll frame it." he nods one last time, shoving the picture into his pocket.

jj leans back just slightly, satisfied. his hand brushes your waist as he passes, slow and deliberate.

he presses a kiss to your cheek like it’s a favor, light, cocky, devastating. “thanks for the photo, sweetheart.”

and then he’s gone. screen door creaking, footsteps thudding down the porch steps, headed back toward the driveway like he didn’t just blow your entire soul out of your body.

and you stay there, flushed and speechless in the middle of your bedroom, already knowing exactly what he’s gonna do the next time he gets you alone.

it comes much sooner than you expect it. the same night, actually.

you haven’t moved in an hour. just lying there, tucked beneath soft sheets and fairy light shadows, staring at the ceiling and thinking about him.

about the polaroid in his back pocket. about what he said he’d do with it. about the way your breath stopped, and hasn’t really come back since.

it’s late, too late. the house is dead quiet, your parents asleep down the hall, the fan humming low in the corner, the sheets cool against your bare legs.

you sit up fast when your window creaks.

and there he is. blond hair a mess, wearing some dirty, old shirt, carefully tossing himself through your window and landing on the floor with a soft thump.

“jj, are you insane?” you whisper, scrambling to your feet. “you shouldn't be here."

he shrugs, "shouldn't do a lotta things."

he's already crossing the room toward you, eyes dark as they drop down the length of your legs and don’t come back up.

you're in white. thin cotton, lace trim, a little bow at the chest and straps falling off your shoulder like they’re tired of pretending you're not hoping for it.

jj blinks once. then again, and then drags a hand down his face like maybe that’ll stop the blood from rushing straight to his dick.

“jesus fucking christ.” he breathes.

you shush him, but can't help the blush that's creeping on your face.

“honestly jj,” you whisper harshly, “what are you doing?”

“missed you." he says simply, like that’s reason enough to sneak into your bedroom at nearly one in the morning.

“you’re gonna get murdered. my dad is right down the hall.”

he just shrugs.

"no, i'm serious. he's got a loaded gun in the closet i'm sure he's been dying to use on you." you say, breathless, pulling him away from the window anyway, like if he’s going down, you don't mind going with him.

“well then, you better keep quiet.”

you don’t even realize you’ve backed into the room until your legs hit the edge of the bed.

the window is still cracked, your fingers are still fisted in his shirt.

and then he’s kissing you, like he’s making up for every second he didn’t. like he’s not stopping unless someone physically drags him off of you.

he’s already pushing the straps of your nightgown off your shoulders like they’re in his way. you shudder when his tongue traces along the edge of lace.

you gasp into the air when his lips trail down your neck, slow and open mouthed and intentional. you whisper his name, almost a warning, already shaky.

he hums against your collarbone like you didn’t say anything at all.

“you said be quiet.” you breathe, barely able to form the words. like it's his fault you just made that sound, because it is.

“i did,” he murmurs, kissing lower, teeth brushing just enough to make you gasp. “you’re the one moanin’ about it.”

your hand fists in his hair and he smiles into your skin. his hands are on your thighs now, pushing the fabric up inch by inch. his palms are hot, steady, grounding and wrecking all at once.

you try to stay still, you try to be quiet. but then he pulls your night dress down to your ribs and pulls your nipple into his mouth, sucking. just a little, just enough to make you forget who's down the hall.

his grin is immediate.

"damn,” he hums, not even looking up. “you were doin’ so good too.”

“jj, please-”

“please what?” his mouth is right above your nipple now, lips brushing it every time he talks.

you look down at him, and let out some sort of twisted version of a sigh and a moan. and it only makes him bolder.

he kisses his way down your stomach, slow and open-mouthed, and when he reaches your hips, he pushes the nightgown up completely.

he pauses, sits back on his knees, and just stares.

you’re panting, red-faced, hands twitching by your sides, and he looks like he’s been punched in the throat.

“holy shit.” he says it like it slipped out, like he didn’t mean to say it out loud.

you would try to cover yourself if it wasn't jj maybank sitting it front of you, already coming back to reach for you again.

he's lower now. jj drags his hands up the outside of your thighs, slow, thumbs pressing into soft skin, and leans back down, mouth kissing the inside of your knee first, and then higher.

his fingers peel your underwear to the side, his breath making you jump.

you’re shaking already, and then his mouth is on you. warm and perfect and so slow you nearly cry from it.

his hands keep your hips pinned. his tongue moves in maddening circles, and when you choke out a quiet “jj-” he groans into you, like he needs to hear it.

your back arches, he pulls you down by the hips, harder, his grip is bruising, his mouth is relentless.

he mutters something, then slides a finger in, and your jaw drops.

his mouth is back on you, eyes flicking down to where you're connected then back up to your face, over and over again.

he slips the second finger in slow, and when you gasp, hips jerking, thighs trembling around his wrist, jj just smirks and mutters, “jesus, tight little pussy. she’s not used to this, huh?”

his fingers are so deep it makes your vision blur.

you’ve touched yourself thinking about this before. jj between your legs. jj with his hands on your thighs. jj saying your name like he is now.

you’ve thought about it a hundred different ways, slow, soft, angry, teasing, but none of it, none of it, have even touched what this is.

you moan, high, wrecked, and slap your hand over your mouth like it might help.

you can’t look at him, not really. not when your thighs are shaking, not when you’re so wet you can hear it, not when your brain is fogged over with warmth and want.

this is so much worse than you imagined. so much better. jj talking shit between your legs, curling his fingers up into you while your back arches off the bed? this is everything, and he knows it.

you’re so close it feels like your whole body is about to snap. jj’s mouth is locked between your thighs, warm, open, sure, tongue dragging slow and deep, and his free hand is keeping you right there while he finishes what he started.

“fuckin’ unreal.” he mutters, only pulling back enough to get half of it out before he's back on you.

you’ve never been touched like this. never had someone lick into you like it’s for them, not you.

your legs start to shake and he feels it, tightens his hold on your thighs like he know you're gonna try to run.

“that’s it,” he mutters, low and steady. “just like that.”

you clench around his fingers, your eyes roll back, your mouth parts on a silent moan. and jj just stays there, mouth firm, tongue working in slow circles, sucking just right, until your whole body stiffins.

he lets you cum like that, quiet and wrecked and barely breathing, and doesn’t move until you’ve given him everything.

your legs are still twitching, your eyes won’t focus. you’re wrecked, flushed and messy and so far gone you couldn’t speak even if you tried.

jj just watches you. his hands are still on your thighs. his chest is rising and falling like he’s the one who came.

“gonna be thinking about that for the rest of my fuckin’ life.” he leans into you, kissing you once. “you want more?”

you don't think you've ever nodded that fast in your entire life. you can't feel your fingers, but they're already grabbing to get rid of his clothes.

“easy,” he mumbles, voice low, amused. “i’ll give it to you. don’t gotta tear my fuckin’ clothes off.”

you don’t say anything. just look at him, flushed, breathing hard, mouth parted, and tug him down into another kiss.

he groans into it, grabbing your leg and hooking it over his hip. his hand finds your thigh, squeezes it once, and then he leans back on his knees, reaching blindly for his wallet.

you’re still catching your breath when he tears the foil open with his teeth, eyes never leaving you.

“should’ve done this a long time ago.”

he says it like it’s nothing, like it’s just a thought that slipped out as he rolled the condom on. but it lands like a punch to the chest. your breath catches, your whole body stills.

he strokes himself once, slow, and leans forward again, gaze flicking to your face.

“are you sure?” he asks.

your hand finds his wrist, you nod. “jj please-”

“yeah, baby,” he says with the biggest, shit eating grin you've ever seen, lining himself up. “i got you.”

he pushes in, steady but deep, splitting you open in one long, perfect stretch that has your fingers clawing at his shoulders and your legs tightening around his waist.

he’s fucking you deep, slow, deliberate, one hand gripping your waist, the other curled into your soft, pink sheets.

the headboard’s silent, the sheets barely rustle, he’s keeping it controlled, keeping it just quiet enough to survive this.

but you? you're gone. your mind is hazy, half lost, like you're dreaming. like you're still floating somewhere between his mouth and his dick and the way he sounds when he moans into your skin.

your hands scramble for something, his arms, his shoulders, the sheets. and then you find his wrist, and you don’t even think.

you wrap your fingers around his forearm and pull, dragging his hand from beside your head and guiding it to your throat like it’s just where he belongs.

his hips still. his chest rises hard against yours. for a second, the only sound in the room is your breathing, high and shaky, like you don’t even know what you just did.

he stares at you. then down at his hand, his fingers twitch against your neck. you blink up at him, still panting, still trembling, still clenching around him like you want him to ruin you. and jj just grins.

“knew it.” he mutters, hand tightening slowly, just enough to feel your breath catch under his palm. “you’re not as sweet as you act, huh?”

he starts to move again, deeper now, heavier, his free hand digging into your hip to keep you still, to make you feel every inch.

“could’ve just asked.” he places a kiss to your jaw, your heart flutters.

his hips snap forward again and your body jolts, breath catching sharp in your throat, and it hits you. not the thrust, not the sweat-slick sound of skin on skin, the thought, the truth of it.

years of being good. years of doing exactly what was expected- chin up, shirt tucked, hands folded in your lap. never talked back, never crossed the line. of doing everything right because it was easier to be perfect than to be noticed.

and now you’re on your back, spread, mouth open, letting jj maybank fuck you like he's waited his whole life to.

years of being the girl people trusted, respected, relied on. and all it took was jj maybank looking at you the wrong way.

he groans something low and filthy against your shoulder and your whole body clenches like it wants to be worse for him, like it wants to see how far down you’ll go.

you feel sick, almost. because you should feel ashamed, you should feel guilty for this.

for how easy it was. for how badly you want it. for how much you don’t want to stop. but you don’t feel guilty, not even a little. and somehow, that feels worse.

jj slides out, slow, and wraps his fingers around your underwear, pulling down. before you can even question it, he’s got a hand on your hip, flipping you onto your stomach like it’s effortless.

you gasp into the pillow, dizzy from the movement, from the emptiness, from the cold that rushes over your skin, until he’s there again, behind you, covering you, pulling you up.

his arm wraps tight around your middle, dragging your back flush to his chest, his cock sliding back in deep and slow.

he’s so deep it knocks the air out of you. you can feel every inch, every grind of his hips. his hand comes up, slow and sure, fingers curling under your jaw, thumb pressing beneath your chin, and then he wraps his hand around your throat again.

“y' know,” he pants, voice thick with it, lips brushing the back of your neck, “i always knew you had a thing for me.”

you choke and whip your head as far as he's allowing to look at him. “what?”

he laughs. moans, really, thrusts again just to make you stutter.

“your little crush on me,” he says, smug and panting. “you thought you were subtle?”

it doesn’t register at first. but then it hits- like cold water, like fire in your veins. he knew. he knew.

“no, shut up-”

you want to bury your face in the pillow, you try to move down away from him, but he's got you locked.

“nah,” he huffs, grinning against your skin. “shit was adorable. made me wanna be good to you. made me wanna be so fuckin’ mean to you.”

his words, the angle, the way you're finally fucking jj maybank after two full years of pretending you didn't want to makes you moan a noise so loud it shocks you, too.

he pulls out halfway and thrusts back in. his hand slips from your throat to your mouth in one fast, practiced motion, palm pressed firm over your lips, fingers stretching up your cheek, holding you there.

“quiet,” he murmurs, lips brushing your ear. “i mean it.”

you try to get a ''m sorry' out from against his palm, wide-eyed and already trembling.

“you want me to stop?”

you shake your head fast, desperate, pleading into his hand.

"then shut up."

his hips moving slow but heavy, each thrust dragging a sound out of you he doesn’t want anyone else to hear.

his voice is low, wrecked against your ear. “you like that?” another thrust. “quiet now, huh? just needed it deep, baby, that it?”

he’s so deep it doesn’t feel real anymore, jj’s hips are steady, slow, like he’s trying to ruin you inch by inch.

then, the phone rings, loud.

you hear it. so does jj. so does your dad.

jj freezes. one hand still over your mouth, one still braced around your stomach. you turn your head to look at him, his expression caught somewhere between amused and very much not supposed to be here.

there's shuffling outside your bedroom, and your dad picks up on the third ring. his voice is muffled but right there, and it sends a cold wave straight down your spine.

jj doesn’t move, not right away. his eyes are on yours, dark and gleaming, like he’s waiting for something, permission, panic, surrender. your lips tremble under his hand.

and then, he moves. just once. a single slow, deep thrust that pushes every inch of him deeper into you, and rips a sound from your chest so sharp you think your whole body might short-circuit against his hand.

jj’s mouth curves against your shoulder, all teeth. “mhm. yeah, there it is.”

you sob into his palm, he just shushes you like you're doing something wrong.

his hand disappears from your face. just long enough for his palm to return with a sharp, perfect slap to your cheek, quick and hot and shocking, not cruel, but enough to make your breath catch and your eyes go wide.

he laughs, breathless, smug. “you play the good girl act so well. almost had me fooled.”

you squeeze your eyes shut. you're fifty percent humilated, fifty percent hoping he'll do it again.

he’s close. you can feel it in the way his rhythm starts to falter, the way his grip tightens, the way his chest presses tight to your back.

your body locks up, your vision goes white, and you cum hard, your whole body seizing around him, sobbing and shaking against him.

jj groans, low and sharp. “fuck, baby, jesus- fuck-”

he thrusts once. twice. and then he’s spilling into you with a soft, broken curse, his head dropped to your shoulder, his arms holding you close like he can’t tell where he ends and you begin.

the phone clicks. the house falls into a silence again.

you’re trembling. both of you are slick with sweat, breath sticky in the still air. he pulls out carefully, slow and aching, like it hurts to leave you. and then, without a word, he shifts,tugging you gently with him. you follow- limp, pliant, quiet.

you roll into his chest. he pulls you into him like muscle memory.

you blink up at him, dazed and flushed, and he presses a kiss to your temple. one, then another, slower.

he’s quiet for a beat. then he mutters, voice rough and dry, “if your dad kills me, just…tell him i said it was worth it.”

your mouth tips up into a slow, sleepy smile. jj shrugs, barely, his thumb brushing over your hip. “seriously. i won’t even put up a fight.”

you laugh, low and warm, and bury your face in his chest. if this is the last good thing he gets, he’ll take it.

*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

#jj maybank #obx fanfiction #obx imagine #outer banks #outer banks imagine #obx season 3 #jj mayback imagine #obx jj #jj mayback x reader #jj outer banks #jj x you #jj x reader #jj maybank x reader #jj maybank smut #criminal!jj #sheriffsdaughter!reader

508 notes · View notes

mafiadad5 · 5 months ago

Text

Rent a boyfriend 20.0 [lmk]

♪ Now playing- 200, MARK LEE

♪ music major!mark lee x f!reader (ft. Jaemin and Chenle)

♪ summary- You’re tired of the teasing—you get it, everyone’s in a relationship. And with the Valentine’s Party around the corner the taunts were getting even more unbearable. You didn’t mean to drag Mark into this…you really didn’t, but then he made an offer you couldn’t refuse: Help him get an A on his project, and in return he’ll be your date to the party—your boyfriend. It’s just a simple deal, no strings attached. No way this could get complicated… right?

♪ genre/warnings- fluff, slight angst, mutual pining, fake dating, misunderstanding, university au, kissing under the influence of alcohol, drinking, y/n’s friend group is kinda mean, mentions of sex.

♪ W/c- 14k+

a/n- hey guys! So wanted to drop a valentines fic.. hope you enjoy!

You sat at the table, surrounded by your friends, the only one who had no one to hold. You didn't mind being single, you honestly didn't, but it was moments like these when everyone paired off, giggling and leaning into each other that made it just a bit unbearable. Somehow there was something worse than the PDA though—the teasing. Anytime someone brought up relationships, all eyes would land on you, and an offhand comment about how single you were would always come up. Today was no different. The group had decided to plan a cute Valentines party, for some reason.

"But how's that gonna work when not everyone in the group is in a relationship?" Jaemin said with a smirk. Immediately, every head turned toward you. You shrugged, trying to keep your face neutral, and picked up your phone, scrolling, trying to look unbothered.

"Y/n... Can you like- just get cuffed for Valentine's Day or something?" One of your friends teased, laughing as if the idea was ridiculous. You rolled your eyes and kept scrolling on Instagram, trying to ignore it.

"She would never... Y/n could never get into a relationship." Chenle spoke, his tone light, but it still stung a bit.

Your fingers froze mid scroll. You were so tired of being the target of their jokes. Before you could stop yourself, you blurted out the first thing that came to mind:

"Actually... I do have a boyfriend!"

Everyone's laughter stopped as they stared at you, clearly stunned.

"Oh really?" Jaemin asked, his eyebrow arching skeptically. "What's his name?"

Your heart raced as panic set in your body. You glanced down at your phone, searching for any kind of savior. Your thumb hovered over a random Instagram post, the username catching your eye: onyourm__ark. The name felt a little familiar, that could work.

"Mark." You said, looking up at them with a forced smile. "His name is Mark."

Jaemin tilted his head, his suspicion very apparent. "Mark?"

"Yeah." You replied, shrugging like it was no big deal.

"That's funny." Jaemin said, leaning back in his chair. "Why haven't I heard of this Mark character before?"

You froze again, you didn't really think this through before you spoke. Jaemin wasn't just anyone in the group, he was one of your closest friends. He knew almost everything about your life, and all of a sudden you have a boyfriend?

"I wanted to keep it a secret." You said quickly, scrambling for a believable excuse. "I didn't even know if he liked me back at first."

"Oh? So how'd you two meet?" Jaemin asked, clearly enjoying the way you got nervous from his questioning. It felt less like a conversation and more like an interrogation.

"In English." You answered, "We used to be in the same class, but we kept in touch after."

Jaemin narrowed his eyes, but then to your surprise, he nodded slowly. "You did mention a guy from your English class a while ago... I remember."

He did? You didn't remember saying anything remotely like that, but you weren't about to question it. "See? Told you." You said, forcing a laugh and rolling your eyes.

"Well, I'd love to meet him." Jaemin said, his tone still laced with suspicion. "Why don't you bring Mark to the next hangout?"

Your stomach dropped. "Okay, if that'll shut you up." You said, trying to sound nonchalant, but your hands tightened around your phone as Jaemin leaned back, a sly smile on his face.

Internally, you were spiraling. You didn't have a boyfriend named Mark—or a boyfriend at all for that matter. What were you thinking? Now, you only had a week to figure out how to fix this mess before your lie caught up with you.

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You sat on your bed, phone in hand, trying to figure out what to do. You could always say that Mark couldn't make it to the hangout or that you had came down with the flu, but you knew your friends would see right through it. If they found out you were lying, you'd never hear the end of it.

Your thumb hovered over your phone screen as an idea struck you... Mark. Your freshman English class, Mark Lee, the guy you'd been paired with for a group project that lasted maybe a week. That was forever ago. You hadn't spoken to him in over a year, and you weren't even friends back then—just acquaintances. It would be so weird to reach out to him now, especially with such a weird request, but then again... what other choice did you have?

Your mind raced as you scrolled to his Instagram page, the username onyourm__ark staring back at you. You hesitated, typing out a message, deleting it, and typing it again. It had to be casual, like you weren't about to ask for the strangest favor of his life. Finally, you settled on something simple.

"Hey Mark, long time no speak. I don't know if you remember me, but we were in English together freshman year."

You hit send, your heart pounding. Seconds turned into minutes, and soon an hour had passed. Maybe this was a stupid idea. No, it was a stupid idea. You were already bracing yourself for the relentless teasing that awaited you when suddenly your phone buzzed.

"Hey Y/n, I remember you. How have you been? 🙂"

You nearly dropped your phone. Relief flooded through you as you scrambled to type back.

"I've been pretty good! What about you?"

His reply came almost instantly.

"I've been good as well. Is there any reason in particular that you're texting me? Lol, not in a rude way btw."

Your stomach flipped. He didn't sound rude, but the question made your request feel ten times more ridiculous. You stared at the screen, second guessing everything, but you were in too deep to back out now.

"Yeah... I'm sorry, but I have to ask you for a HUGE favor 😭🙏. Please hear me out."

"I'm all ears." He replied.

You hesitated again, biting your lip. This was beyond embarrassing, but then you thought about your friend's laughter and the endless teasing you would endure if this didn't work out. You had to at least try.

"So... my friends make fun of me because I'm the only single one in the group, and I got tired of it. I sort of... told them I had a boyfriend. Your post was on my feed, so I accidentally told them it was you. Now they don't believe me and want to meet you..."

You cringed as you hit send, practically feeling the embarrassment radiate off your phone screen.

Moments later, a new message appeared.

"LOL. Y/n this is crazy 😂. So, what? You need me to meet them and act like your boyfriend?"

"Yeah... that would be very, very awesome." You replied, your face burning with embarrassment.

"What do I get out of this? 🧐"

You stared at the message, trying to think of something. You were so desperate, you'd probably agree to anything at this point.

"What do you want...?"

"You have to pay for me at the hangout 🫡”

Ok, that wasn't bad. You could manage that.

"Deal." You replied.

"And you have to write my essay. I remember you're good at stuff like this."

You groaned. Yes you were good, but you hated doing it.

"🥲... Fine." You wrote back.

Before you could relax, another message came through.

"Wait, before I agree, can we at least meet in person first? Just to talk a little and figure things out."

He had a point. You couldn't exactly walk into this without a plan.

"Yes, of course." You responded quickly.

"Are you free tomorrow... and do I have to pay for you then too?"

"I'm free tomorrow, and no, you don't have to pay for me tomorrow 😂." He replied.

You felt a small wave of relief.

"Ok, let's grab a coffee tomorrow at noon." You typed.

"Sounds good. I'll see you then."

You exhaled, setting your phone down. It wasn't a guarantee, but at least there was a chance this might work. Now, all you had to do was convince your friends.

🎸⋆⭒˚｡⋆ ───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───── ⋆⭒˚｡⋆ 🎸

The next day, you strolled into the café, your bag slung over one shoulder as you rushed inside. You spotted Mark sitting at a small table by the window, his beanie low over his head as he sipped from a coffee cup. He glanced up and smiled when he saw you, raising a hand in a wave.

"Sorry I'm late!" You said as you dropped into the chair across from him, setting your bag down with a thud. "Traffic."

"No problem, I just got here anyway." He said, giving you a lighthearted grin.

"Thanks for meeting me. I swear this isn't as crazy as it probably sounded over text."

Mark raised an eyebrow. "You told me you accidentally named me as your boyfriend to your entire friend group. That's... kind of crazy."

"Ok fine, maybe it's a little crazy." You admitted, leaning back in your chair. "They've been driving me nuts Mark. Every time we hang out it's like, 'Oh Y/n's still single? Maybe one day you'll find someone.' Ugh, I couldn't take it anymore."

He chuckled softly, shaking his head. "So your solution was to drag me into this?"

"Look, I panicked. Your Instagram post popped up on my feed, and I just blurted out your name, but now they want to meet you, and if I back out, they'll never let me live it down." You said, throwing up your hands.

Mark stared at you for a moment, but then he sighed, setting his coffee cup down. "You really hate losing, huh?"

"More than anything." You said, leaning forward.

He laughed, the sound genuine. "Alright, I get it. So what's the plan? Are we rehearsing some elaborate backstory or something?"

You waved him off. "Nah, that's too much work. We'll just wing it. They don't need the whole story of how we 'fell in love.' You're Mark, my boyfriend. We met in English, we reconnected, end of story."

"Wing it?" He repeated, his brows lifting in slight disbelief.

"Yep." You said confidently, sipping the coffee you ordered on your way in. "Is that okay with you?"

Mark studied you for a moment, his gaze steady. "You're really something Y/n."

"What!?" You asked, shrugging with a grin on your face.

He shook his head, but there was a small smile tugging at his lips. "You realize this could backfire, right? If they catch on..."

"Yeah, wait. You're right. We may have to come up with a plan." You interrupted, tapping your fingers on the side of your cup.

"Tell me about this group of yours." Mark said, leaning forward with interest.

You hesitated for a moment, thinking of how best to describe them. "Well, there's Jaemin one of my closest friends...he's the one who's been grilling me the most. He's super observant, so we really need to be convincing around him. Then there's Chenle. He's a little less... eccentric than Jaemin, but he's the one who made a comment, so... yeah, he's a problem too."

Mark raised an eyebrow. "Sounds like a fun crowd."

"They're not that bad." You said quickly, though you weren't sure if you believed it yourself. "The rest of them are less skeptical, but they'll still ask a million questions."

Mark nodded. "Okay. How long have we been 'dating' ?"

You paused. "Uh... let's say a month? Long enough to make it seem legit, but not so long that it's weird you're just meeting them now."

"Smart." He said. "And how did we meet?"

"Freshman English obviously." You said.

"Oh...right. What do I do for fun? If they ask, I don't want to say something totally weird."

You thought for a moment. "Well, what do you do for fun?"

Mark laughed. "Play guitar, hang out with friends, binge watch random shows. Pretty standard stuff."

"Ok, stick with that." You said, jotting it down in your phone's notes. "What about me? Do you remember anything about me?"

Mark tilted his head, his expression thoughtful. "You were pretty quiet, right? I remember you always had your notes super organized though and had little drawings. You're good at writing and photography too."

"Wow, thrilling personality." You said dryly, but you couldn't help smiling.

"Hey, I like organized people." Mark said, flashing a grin.

You both laughed, for the first time since this whole mess started, you felt like maybe, just maybe, this could actually work.

Mark leaned back in his chair, his eyes playful. "So, when's the big hangout?"

"Next Saturday." You said.

Mark paused for a second, tapping his fingers against the edge of the table. "You're sure this is what you want to do?"

You nodded. "Yeah. I just need them off my back for one day. Then I'll tell them we broke up or something, and it'll all blow over."

He let out a long breath, running a hand through his hair beneath the beanie.

"Alright...I'm in."

"You are?"

"I mean, how many people get to say they were someone's fake boyfriend? It's a good story, but— you're paying, and doing my essay." He spoke, raising his eyebrow.

"Yeah— yes of course."

"Then deal." He smiled, reaching his hand across the table.

A bright smile painted your face as you reached across the table to shake his hand. "Thank you. You're officially the best."

"Don't thank me yet." He said with a laugh. "This could still go horribly wrong."

"Shh, shh." You said, waving him off. "Now, are you ready to charm the pants off my friends next Saturday?"

His eyes went wide as a nervous smile crept on his face. "I don't think that's part of the deal..." He joked.

"Mark." You laughed, grabbing your bag as you stood up. "We'll convince them."

Mark shook his head, but the smile on his face lingered as he stood up as well. "Let's hope you're right."

🎸⋆⭒˚｡⋆ ───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───── ⋆⭒˚｡⋆ 🎸

The cafe where your friends had decided to meet was full of chatter. You walked in with Mark by your side, your heart racing, though you'd never admit it. He looked surprisingly calm hands stuffed into his pockets as your arm was linked around his, beanie pulled low over his hair, a casual smile on his face.

"There they are." You muttered under your breath as you spotted your friends gathered at a large table near the back.

Mark glanced at you, his tone teasing. "You ready... babe girl?"

You stopped dead in your tracks, turning to glare at him. "Babe girl? Really?"

He smirked. "What? I thought it sounded cute."

"It sounds ridiculous." You said, but you couldn't stop the laugh that bubbled up. "Corny and ridiculous."

"Guess it's our thing now." He said, a quirky smile on his face.

"Absolutely not."

As you approached the table, the chatter stopped, and all eyes turned to you. Jaemin leaned back in his chair with a smug grin. "Look who finally decided to show up, and with a plus one!"

"Hi." Mark said with an easy smile, lifting a hand in a small wave. "Nice to meet you all."

"Mark huh?" Chenle said, giving him a suspicious look from head to toe "So you're real."

"Very real." Mark said, his grin never falling.

"Well, don't just stand there. Sit down, we've got questions." Jaemin said, motioning you both to the empty chairs.

Mark glanced at you, eyebrows raised. "Interrogation already?"

"Oh, absolutely." You said, plopping into a seat. "Good luck."

He laughed and took the chair beside you, his knee brushing yours under the table.

"So..." Jaemin began, leaning forward. "How'd you two meet again?"

"English class." You answered quickly.

Mark nodded, picking up without missing a beat. "Yeah, freshman year. She was the only person in the class who didn't make me feel like an idiot during group projects."

You shot him a look, trying not to break character. "That's because you weren't an idiot."

Jaemin squinted, clearly searching for holes in the story. "How long have you been... together?"

"A month." Mark said smoothly.

"Uh huh..." Jaemin said, dragging out the syllables. "So that means you're okay with coming to the couples Valentine's party next month, right?"

Mark blinked, glancing at you. "The what now?"

Jaemin's grin widened, sensing an opportunity. "The party, didn't Y/n tell you? It's just for couples in the group, which is all of us, right? It'll be fun— cookie decorating, gift exchanges, all that good stuff."

You felt your stomach drop. Of course he'd pull something like this.

"Who even wants to spend Valentine's Day with a group of people when you're dating someone? That doesn't even make sense." You turned to Mark, hoping he'd follow your lead. "Right Mark? Wouldn't you only want to spend time with just me on... that... Valentine's Day?"

Mark hesitated for a second before nodding. "Yeah, right. I would want to spend it alone with my girlfriend, not in a group you know? Really though, I appreciate the invitation." He shot you a glance before looking back at Jaemin.

Jaemin, still grinning leaned in. "I mean, the party isn't all day, only a few hours at night. You two can spend it together alone pretty much."

"I mean... well. That's really when I want to be alone with her... at night." Mark said, his ears turning red as the group collectively reacted. Jaemin's eyebrows shot up, his smirk widening and Chenle let out a low whistle.

"We can move the party earlier since you two lovebirds want the night alone." Jaemin teased. "We really want you guys there."

"Jaemin, just drop it." You said, rolling your eyes.

"I was talking to Mark, Y/n." He replied, dismissing you.

Mark's easygoing demeanor stiffened slightly as he shot Jaemin a look. "Don't talk to her like that dude." Then after a quick glance at you he continued. "Look man, I really appreciate it and everything, but she wants to spend Valentine's alone, so we're gonna do that... all day." His said, his voice softening.

"Well damn," Chenle muttered into the awkward silence. "and we thought Y/n accepted the invitation."

Your patience finally snapped. "Okay! We'll go, goodness me." You stood up abruptly, the chair scraping against the floor.

"We will?" Mark asked, blinking at you and scratching the back of his head.

"Yes, we will." You answered quickly, shooting a glare at Jaemin, who looked far too pleased with himself.

"That's great." Jaemin said, his smugness radiating off him.

You exhaled sharply before turning to Mark. "Now babe... Mark, can we please leave?" Your voice dripped with frustration.

Mark bit back a laugh. "Sure thing... babe girl." He sucked in his breath slightly, bracing for your reaction.

You narrowed your eyes, but couldn't stop the small giggle that slipped out. "Ridiculous." You said, shaking your head.

Mark stood, offering the group a small wave. "It was nice meeting you guys."

"Nice meeting you too Mark." Jaemin said, clearly entertained. "Hope we can all get together before the Valentine's party."

Mark nodded. "Yeah, sure."

"Bye guys." You added, throwing one last glance at Jaemin before turning and walking out, Mark right beside you.

As soon as you stepped outside you let out a deep sigh. "Mark, I'm seriously so sorry. They're typically not like this."

He laughed, hands in his pockets. "Nah it's okay, I swear. I'm just more worried about how we're gonna show up to this Valentine's party."

Your stomach dropped. "Oh fuck Mark. I panicked—I didn't even realize."

He smirked. "Yeah, I noticed."

You groaned, rubbing your temples. "It's fine, I'll just tell them we broke up or something."

Mark nodded. "Yeah, that sounds good to me."

A brief silence passed before he glanced at you. "Now, if you don't mind or anything... do you wanna grab a real lunch?"

You blinked at him before breaking into a smile. "Yeah that sounds good... like our break up hangout." You giggled.

He chuckled. "Yeah, something like that."

You paused. "I'm not paying for you." You looked at him with squinted eyes.

Mark scoffed. "I guess not."

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The two of you sat at the table, the world outside fading as you talked and ate, lost in conversation. There was something surprisingly natural about it—like you'd been friends forever.

You swirled your drink absentmindedly before slipping in a question. "So, like... what do you do?"

Mark blinked, then grinned. "Oh... I'm a music major. So... make music, I guess?"

"Oh that's sick. So you just write music for class? That sounds fun... and easy." You teased, raising an eyebrow.

Mark scoffed, shaking his head. "It's not actually. Right now, we're starting a project where we have to tie music and cinematography together. It's due in like a month.

You tilted your head, thinking. "So, February 7th? That's such a long time."

"Mhm, that's not even enough time." He said, nodding seriously.

"You'll be fine, it's easy." You waved him off.

"And it's summer." He shot back.

"What?" You asked, furrowing your brows.

"Oh, I thought we were lying about things." He said with a cheeky smile.

"Mark, please." You giggled, shooting him a playful glare.

Still smirking, he leaned back. "Alright, since my major is so 'easy', what's yours?"

"Digital Art and Media." You replied.

Mark's eyebrows lifted. "That's why it's easy for you, you do photography and digital art."

"I only took one photography class, relax bud. I'm not an expert." You said, rolling your eyes playfully.

"Yeah, whatever. More experience than me." He said, playfully rolling his eyes right back.

"Yeah, yeah."

Time slipped away unnoticed. What was meant to be a quick lunch turned into two hours of laughter, and playful conversation. You hadn't even realized how long you'd been sitting there until you glanced at the time and your stomach sank.

"I'm so sorry Mark, but I have an assignment due that I have to do." You said, frowning.

He gasped dramatically. "Wow, you need better time management."

You scoffed. "Yeah? Well, I guess time passes when you're having fun with someone."

The words left your lips before you could process them. The moment hung between you for a split second too long before Mark's grin widened, his cheeks rounding.

"Yeah... that's true."

You cleared your throat, shaking the moment off. "We should definitely do this again... but, you know, as regular friends." You shot him a bright grin as you stood up.

Mark nodded quickly, standing up beside you. "Yeah, no, yeah... totally." He smiled, but there was something in his expression.

"Well, I had fun. I'll see you later?"

"Yeah, see you later." His gaze lingered as you waved and walked away, feeling lighter than before.

Hours later, you were deep in your assignment, tackling it with as much focus as you could. The only problem? You'd made the grave mistake of leaving your phone off Do Not Disturb.

It buzzed. Once... twice, a few unimportant messages. Then, one caught your eye, a familiar username.

@onyourm__ark

Your fingers hovered over your phone. You needed no distractions, but the message was simple.

"Hey, can I ask you something?"

Curiosity won.

"Yeah, what's up?" You typed back.

His response came almost immediately.

"Do you like... actually need me to go to this Valentine's party thing?"

You bit your lip, considering. "Would you? What would you want in return?"

The three little dots popped up. Then:

"Well... your major is like really really cool... and exactly what I need for my project. So, could you help me with the project over the month? If I get an A, then I'll go with you."

You tapped your fingers against your desk, thinking.

"Hmmm... that's a good deal actually."

Before Mark could even finish typing a response, you sent another.

"Eh, that's too much work though. Look, I'm currently working on something right now... my classes are hard this semester."

His reply was immediate.

"Oh... I thought it was so 'easy.' 😂"

You groaned, shaking your head.

"Yeah, when that's your only class. I appreciate the offer, but I can't. I'll just tell them we broke up lol."

"Ok ok... good luck with them."

"I'll manage.🫡"

You put your phone down, determined to get back to work, but your mind kept drifting. You didn't even know what the project fully was, you could at least hear him out... right?

With a sigh, you hesitated before unlocking your phone again, opening your messages with Mark.

"So like... what's the project? What do you have to do?"

This time, the response came instantly. Almost like he had been waiting for you to ask.

"I have to make a song and record a music video for it."

Your eyes flicked over the message.

"So just videography, and text work?"

"Not even... the song doesn't have any lyrics, so just videography."

You chewed your lip.

"That doesn't sound too bad."

"It sounds like someone's changing their mind👀... I hope."

You exhaled sharply, shaking your head.

"Perchance."

"Say yes, say yes, say yes."

You sat there, staring at the screen, fingers hovering over the keyboard. You weren't actually considering this, were you?

...Maybe you were.

"Ok, fine."

His response was immediate.

"YESSIR!"

You chuckled, shaking your head.

"Let's meet up sometime next week and get started, if that's okay with you?"

"Yeah, that's perfect."

You locked your phone and leaned back in your chair, exhaling.

This was going to be... interesting.

🎸⋆⭒˚｡⋆ ───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───── ⋆⭒˚｡⋆ 🎸

It was the next week, and you two finally met up at the park.

"Y/n!" Mark called out, waving you over with a bright grin.

"Mark!" You waved back, jogging slightly to meet him.

The two of you sat on a wooden bench, its surface worn smooth from the weather. The cold seeped through your clothes, but the excitement of finally starting the project kept you warm.

"So, what's the plan for this music video?" You asked, tucking your hands into your pockets.

Mark exhaled, his breath visible in the cool air. "Well, I want it to be naturally focused—kind of like me being out and about. Then I also want to show my process—like me writing and recording the music, you know?" His gaze flickered to you, his cheeks slightly pink from the cold.

You nodded thoughtfully. "Okay, that sounds sweet. Do you have everything you need?"

"Yep! I even brought the camera with me." He reached into his bag and pulled out a silver camcorder, a Spider-Man keychain dangling from the side.

You couldn't help but smile. "Oh, that's cute."

Mark chuckled, spinning the keychain between his fingers. "I haven't used this thing in ages though... let me make sure it's working." He flicked it on, the lens whirring softly as it adjusted. Without warning, he turned it toward you.

"Say hi Y/n." He prompted.

You straightened up, flashing a peace sign at the camera. "Hi hi, hello!"

Mark grinned behind the camera. "We're here with the super duper awesome Y/n."

"In the flesh." You responded, throwing up two rock hand signs.

Mark laughed. "In the flesh?" He turned the camera toward himself, raising an eyebrow.

You smirked. "We have a hater here guys." You motioned for him to hand over the camera, and he did so with an amused expression.

You turned the camera around, focusing on him. "Look at this hater. Super duper hater Mark."

"In the flesh." He said expressionless, before glancing at you to catch your reaction.

You scoffed playfully, rolling your eyes as you turned the camera to frame both of you in the shot. "Alright, and with that... this test video is over." You smiled, locking eyes with Mark for a beat before looking back at the lens.

After stopping the recording, you both huddled together to watch the clip, laughing.

"Is this the type of video you're looking for?" You asked, glancing at him.

"Yeah, basically. This is awesome." His smile was wide and genuine.

"Great." You mirrored his smile, the warmth between you two making the cold a little more bearable.

A gust of wind rustled through the trees, and Mark tucked his hands into his sleeves before glancing at you. "Do you want to grab some lunch or something? It's on me."

You raised an eyebrow. "Free lunch? Why would I pass on that?"

Mark laughed, standing up and stretching before leading the way. The two of you walked to the familiar cafe where you always met, slipping into your usual routine without much thought. After ordering you found yourselves at your regular table, the conversation flowing as effortlessly as ever.

You set your cup down and leaned forward. "Wait, this would be a great shot." You reached for the camera, and Mark passed it to you without hesitation.

You turned it on, panning it toward him as he casually picked up his cup, taking a slow sip.

A giggle escaped you from behind the camera, and Mark's gaze flickered up. He smirked, trying, and failing, not to laugh.

"Wait, wait." He said, holding out his hand. "Let me capture my POV."

You handed the camera back, and he immediately started recording. First, he zoomed in on his cup, then moved to some of the food on the table, narrating dramatically.

"Here we have... a masterpiece." He slowly panned upward, the lens landing on you.

A small smile played on his lips as he held the camera steady. "Working on the project. This is the same day as the test recording, but who cares?"

You made an awkward face at the camera before sticking your tongue out playfully. "Documenting history." You teased.

Mark chuckled, lowering the camera slightly. "I think this might actually turn out great." He admitted, glancing at you.

You met his gaze, something lingering between the two of you.

You agreed softly. "Yeah, I think so too."

🎸⋆⭒˚｡⋆ ───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───── ⋆⭒˚｡⋆ 🎸

You had been recording with Mark for about two weeks now, always keeping the shoots outdoors, but today was different. Mark said it was time to capture one of the final stages—him recording it. For that, he invited you over to his apartment.

You of course agreed. It was part of the project anyway, but what surprised you was realizing that his apartment was only about a ten minute walk from yours.

Taking advantage of the convenience, you decided to walk there, stopping by a store on the way to grab some supplies for a separate project you needed to work on while Mark was busy. As you waited at the checkout, a small Spider-Man figurine caught your eye. Something about it reminded you of Mark—probably that old keychain hanging from his camera. With a small smile, you grabbed it and added it to your purchase.

Soon, you were standing outside his door, a small brown paper bag in hand. You knocked, shifting on your feet as you waited.

The door swung open, and Mark greeted you with a bright smile. "Hey Y/n!"

"Hey Mark." You smiled back, stepping inside and slipping off your coat and shoes.

His apartment was cozy, a subtle scent of coffee and something faintly citrusy in the air.

"This place is nice." You commented as he led you toward his studio room.

"Aw, it's nothing." He said calmly, but there was a hint of pride in his voice.

You stepped into the music room, immediately noticing how it felt both chaotic and comforting. Wires across the floor, tangled yet somehow purposeful. Instruments leaned against the walls, and scattered notebooks were filled with what you assumed were unfinished lyrics. It wasn't pristine, but it felt real—lived in.

"Sorry for the mess." He said sheepishly, tidying up a few papers.

"No, it's cute. I like it."

He paused at that, looking at you for a moment longer than necessary, a small genuine smile tugged at his lips as he let out a soft giggle. "Thanks..."

You cleared your throat, settling in. "So, you have some finishing touches to do?"

"Yeah." He nodded. "I just need to tweak a few things, then record. You can work on your project while I do that—I'll just set up the camera to capture everything, if that's cool?"

"Of course, do your thing." You assured him.

Mark adjusted the camera on its stand, making sure it had a good angle before grabbing his guitar and plopping down on the couch.

"I hope the noise isn't too distracting." He said, glancing at you.

"No, you're good." You gave him a reassuring smile before pulling out your supplies.

As you sorted through the contents of the bag, you came across the Spider-Man figurine. You hesitated for a second before looking up.

"Oh uh, Mark?"

He immediately looked over, giving you his full attention.

"I got you a little something. I saw it at the store and thought of you." You pulled out the figurine and held it up, waiting for his reaction.

His eyes widened slightly before a grin broke across his face. "Oh my god!" He took it from your hands, examining it like it was the coolest thing in the world. "This is literally my favorite... thank you so much."

You laughed at his enthusiasm. "Yeah, yeah, you're welcome."

Mark immediately ran over to the camera, crouching in front of it with the figurine. "Look at this super cool gift Y/n gave me. Isn't it epic?" He held it up proudly, his smile contagious.

You shook your head, watching him with amusement.

"Everyone say 'Thank you Y/n.'" He continued, turning the camera toward you.

"Thank you Y/n." He said in a lighter voice.

You rolled your eyes playfully, but smiled. "You're welcome guys."

Mark turned the camera back to himself. "But wait, what is Y/n working on? We've been stuck on me when we have a hardworking creative genius over here."

You lifted the almost finished postcard you had been making. "Well guys, I just have to make some postcards."

"Ooo, pretty." He said in his high pitched voice again.

You smirked. "Wait—me or the postcard?" It was meant to be a lighthearted joke, but Mark answered instantly.

"Both."

You blinked at him, momentarily thrown off, but he just grinned at you like it was the most obvious thing in the world.

Clearing your throat, you turned the postcard over in your hands. "You know, why am I even making this? My major is digital design."

"Crazy wonders of the world." Mark said, raising an eyebrow dramatically.

"I know right?" You giggled.

"Wait, hold up the postcard." He said suddenly.

You obliged, holding up the small card that was a sunset over the city skyline.

Mark placed the Spider-Man figurine in front of it, adjusting the camera's angle. "Spider-Man Mark in Y/n's pretty city." He moved the figure as if it were walking.

"Pretty Spider-Man Mark in Y/n's regular city." You corrected teasingly.

"Ah, that's not true. It's not regular, nothing you do is regular."

You turned to him, surprised by the sincerity in his voice. Mark immediately panned the camera toward you, catching your reaction.

"Guys, did you hear that?" You asked, smiling.

"I think they did... uh oh. I've been caught." He said dramatically.

Laughing, you shook your head. "Alright, alright, let's get back to filming."

Mark sighed, setting the figurine aside. "Okay, I'll finish recording my song. Back to boring me."

"No, I should be recording this part." You insisted, spinning around in his desk chair. "That's literally the point of the project."

"It's fine—"

"Nope." You stood up, grabbing the camera and plopping onto the bean bag in front of him. "Alright, let's hear it."

Mark adjusted himself on the couch, strumming a few simple notes at first as you zoomed in slightly.

"We want to hear the song!" You said in a high pitched voice behind the camera.

Mark looked up, straight into the lens. "Guys, you have no say in this."

"Hey! Don't talk to them like that. We all want to hear the song... you must oblige."

He raised an eyebrow. "Oh, all of you?"

"Yes." You nodded, keeping the camera steady.

"Well... I guess that means I have no choice." He sighed, dramatically adjusting his posture. Then his expression softened. "Alright. Here goes."

As he began playing his eyes fluttered shut, lost in the melody. The notes filled the room, smooth and rhythmic, but when he opened his eyes again, they didn't go to the camera— they went straight to you. Suddenly, he stumbled. "Wait—I'm nervous when you're looking at me play... turn the other way."

"What? How am I supposed to turn away? I'm literally filming. If you suck, just say that." You teased.

Mark groaned. "That's not fair."

"Fine, fine, I'll close my eyes." You smirked. "You're lucky I'm talented and can record with my eyes closed."

You heard him chuckle before he started playing again and this time, he didn't stop. The music wrapped around you, soothing you into a quiet rhythm as you swayed slightly.

When you finally opened your eyes you smiled. "Wow... you're good."

He set the guitar down. "Me? Nah."

"You're definitely better than me." You admitted.

"Wait—you play?"

"Barely."

"Give it a try."

"Oh no, no, no—"

"Oh yes, yes, yes."

And before you could argue, he was handing you the guitar and taking the guitar from you, a mischievous glint in his eyes.

You hesitated, staring at the guitar now resting in your lap as you glanced up at Mark, who was grinning.

"Mark, no. I can't." You said, shaking your head.

"Yes, you can." He countered, adjusting the camera to make sure it was still recording. "If you guys want Y/n to play say, 'Play Y/n.'" He turned back to you with a teasing smile.

"Play Y/n." He said in that high pitched voice again.

You groaned, pointing at the camera. "You guys are traitors."

Mark beamed. "You must listen. You must oblige, right?"

You rolled your eyes but couldn't fight your own smile. "Fine, but I'm telling you I suck."

"It's okay, take your time." He reassured, watching you expectantly.

Taking a deep breath, you positioned your fingers awkwardly on the strings, recalling the few chords you knew. You strummed slowly, hesitant. The sound wasn't smooth—it was a little choppy, a little messy, but you pushed through, playing a simple tune you vaguely remembered.

As you focused on the guitar, you felt Mark's gaze lingering. When you glanced up, he was watching you with a small smile.

"Okay, I'm done." You announced quickly, placing the guitar back on your lap like it was some kind of dangerous weapon.

Mark clapped dramatically. "That was good!"

"Mark, do not lie to my face right now."

"I'm serious!" He leaned forward. "Better than some people in my classes, I swear."

"Right..." You scoffed, playfully rolling your eyes.

"I'm not lying! It takes practice." He insisted. "You're the best in my eyes, okay?"

Before you could process his words, he gently took the guitar back from you and placed it across his lap.

"You'll get better, it's all about growth." He continued, casually strumming a few quick chords.

"Oh, now you're just showing off."

He grinned. "No I'm not, stop."

You shook your head, still smiling, before glancing at the clock. It was getting late.

Mark must've noticed too because his fingers slowed on the guitar. "You should probably head home soon, huh?"

You sighed. "Yeah... probably."

A beat of silence passed between you, filled only by the faint buzz of the camera still recording. Neither of you moved right away.

Then Mark stood up abruptly. "Wait, let me walk you home."

You blinked. "Mark, it's literally a ten minute walk."

"So?" He shrugged, grabbing his hoodie off the back of the chair. "It's dark out."

"I'll be fine." You reassured him, standing up and stretching.

"Still, I wanna make sure." He smiled at you.

You held his gaze for a moment before exhaling in defeat. "Fine, but if we get jumped you better be ready to fight for your life."

Mark laughed as he grabbed his keys. "Don't worry, Spider-Man got you."

As you both stepped outside into the cool night air, walking side by side under the streetlights, you found yourself stealing small glances at him.

🎸⋆⭒˚｡⋆ ───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───── ⋆⭒˚｡⋆ 🎸

The familiar ding of Mark's apartment buzzer echoed as you rocked back and forth on your heels, hands stuffed into the pockets of your hoodie. Moments later, the door swung open revealing Mark in a black hoodie and sweatpants, hair slightly tousled like he'd been running his hands through it.

"Y/n! My favorite editor has arrived." He said with a teasing smirk, stepping aside to let you in.

You rolled your eyes, stepping inside and kicking off your shoes. "Flattery will not make me do extra work Mark."

"Damn...worth a shot."

He led you into his workspace, where his laptop was already open, the editing software pulled up on the screen. A few loose papers and a notebook was scattered across the desk. You settled into the chair, rolling up your sleeves, ready to finish what had been weeks of filming and late night texts about clips and transitions.

As Mark settled onto the couch behind you, tuning his guitar absentmindedly, your eyes drifted to the notebook lying open beside the keyboard. The title at the top caught your attention.

200

Your brow furrowed as you skimmed the first few lines.

"Hey, what's this?" You asked, fingers brushing the edge of the page.

Before you could read any further Mark was suddenly there, reaching over your shoulder and snapping the notebook shut in one motion.

"Nothing—just a project for another class." He said quickly, his voice a little too casual.

You arched a brow, turning in your chair to look at him. "Oh yeah? What class?"

He blinked. "Uh—songwriting."

You smirked. "You're a bad liar."

"I am not lying." He countered, crossing his arms, but the way he avoided your gaze told you otherwise.

You let it slide—for now. "Fine Mr. Songwriter. Let's get back to the actual project before we run out of time."

He exhaled in relief, moving back to his spot on the couch as you clicked through the footage. The two of you worked, laughing over bloopers and trimming clips.

After a while, Mark leaned forward, resting his chin on the back of the chair. "Hey, so... I wanna learn how to add text to videos."

You glanced at him. "Oh?"

"Yeah, like... just in case I ever need to make a music video by myself." He explained, his voice dipping slightly.

You smirked, already sensing where this was going. "You mean in case I'm not around to do it for you?"

He grinned, not even denying it. "Exactly."

You hummed, clicking through the editing software. "Alright, pay attention."

Mark pulled his chair up beside you, leaning in way too close as you navigated the program. You felt the heat of his gaze more than once, but you pretended not to notice—until you did.

"You're not even looking at the screen." You said, turning toward him.

"I am." He defended, but his smirk gave him away.

You huffed, placing your hand on the mouse. "Watch closely."

You leaned in to type and in the process, your knee brushed against his. Instead of moving away, Mark just smirked slightly, shifting even closer.

"So, you click here to add a text layer." You explained, voice steady despite the way your skin tingled. "Then you can choose the font, size, and animation style."

"Mmm, what if I want it to fade in all smooth and cool?"

"Then you'd go to transitions and—"

You clicked the wrong thing.

A bright pink, curly font popped up on the screen, reading: SUPER AWESOME Y/N IS THE BEST.

Mark burst into laughter. "Ohhh, I love that...perfect title."

You groaned trying to fix it, but he grabbed your wrist gently. "Wait, wait. Keep it."

"Mark, no."

"Mark, yes." He teased, his fingers still lingering on your wrist. "It's only fair, you are super awesome."

You shook your head, deleting the text despite his protests.

You both finished the editing, but before you could say you were done for the night, Mark stretched with an exaggerated groan.

"You know what? You should stay for dinner." He said casually.

You blinked. "What?"

"Stay for dinner." He repeated, standing up. "I'll cook."

You raised a suspicious brow. "You cook?"

He scoffed. "First of all, rude. Second, yes."

You crossed your arms, pretending to consider. "Mmm, free food... and potential food poisoning?"

Mark clutched his chest dramatically. "Wow, you wound me."

You laughed, standing up. "Fine, fine. I'll stay, but if I die I'm haunting you."

"Deal." He said, heading to the kitchen. "Now sit back, relax, and prepare to be amazed."

You settled onto a stool by the counter, watching as he pulled out ingredients. To your surprise, he actually seemed to know what he was doing, chopping vegetables with ease, humming under his breath as he worked.

"So, what is your specialty Chef Mark?" You teased, resting your chin in your palm.

He grinned. "Tonight? Stir-fry."

As he cooked, the conversation flowed easily. You talked about music, future plans, dumb childhood stories. At one point, Mark wiped his hands on a towel and reached over to poke your cheek.

"You always do that when you're focused." He pointed out.

"Do what?"

"That little frown." He mimicked, scrunching his brows.

You rolled your eyes, swatting his hand away. "I do not—"

"You do." He countered, turning back to the stove with a smug smile.

Dinner was surprisingly delicious. As you ate, the conversation slowed, settling into something quieter.

"You know." Mark started, twirling his fork. "I'm kinda sad this project's ending."

You glanced up. "Yeah?"

"Yeah." He met your eyes. "It was fun having you around. Working on something together."

You felt warmth spread through your chest. "Yeah... it was."

Mark hesitated before adding, "We should do it again sometime."

You smiled. "We should."

🎸⋆⭒˚｡⋆ ───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───── ⋆⭒˚｡⋆ 🎸

You and Mark had finally decided to take a break from all the work, choosing a laid back hangout where you didn't have to worry about editing, filming, or anything productive. Not that it ever felt like work, anyway—not with him.

The two of you strolled down the sidewalk, warm coffees in hand. Laughter spilled from your lips as Mark animatedly told you some story, his voice light and his cheeks slightly flushed from the cold.

"Wait, wait... so you're telling me he actually tried to—"

"Y/n?" A familiar voice cut through your laughter, making you pause mid step.

You turned toward the sound and immediately spotted Jaemin approaching, his usual smug grin plastered across his face. His hands were shoved into the pockets of his coat, but his sharp eyes flickered between you and Mark, already scanning for... something.

"Jaemin... Hi!" You greeted, putting on your best casual smile.

Mark lifted his hand in a small wave. "Hey man."

Jaemin's smirk deepened as he reached you both, tilting his head slightly. "Feels like I haven't seen you in forever." He said, his gaze still shifting between you and Mark, clearly analyzing.

"I know right?" You chuckled, shifting on your feet. "I've just been, you know... busy with my boyfriend." You emphasized the word, nudging Mark slightly with your elbow. He played along instantly, nodding in agreement with a small smile.

"Ahh, right." Jaemin said, dragging the words out as if he were testing how it felt on his tongue. His expression remained unreadable, but the skepticism in his eyes was unmistakable. "You guys look... closer than ever."

"Well, yeah." You replied, flashing a polite smile. "That's sorta what happens when you date someone."

Mark let out a quiet chuckle beside you, sipping his coffee.

Jaemin squinted at the two of you, lips pressing together like he was trying to piece something together. The silence stretched just a little too long before he finally let out a small hum.

"Hmm. Yeah, you're right."

"Well." You started, eager to end the interaction before Jaemin could get any ideas. "We're gonna get going—"

"Wait."

Your heart sank just a little.

Jaemin grinned, clearly enjoying the moment. "We miss you." He said, looking directly at you. "Why don't you and Mark stop by this Saturday? Hang out with everyone... you know, like the old times."

That smug expression on his face told you that declining wasn't going to be easy. You opened your mouth to politely decline, but before you could get a word out Mark beat you to it.

"That sounds fun, right babe?" He said smoothly, turning to you with a warm smile that almost looked genuine.

You blinked at him.

"Yeah, totally." You managed, forcing a smile back as you turned to Jaemin. "We'll be there."

Jaemin took a step back, satisfied. "Great! Just don't break up before then or anything."

Mark let out a laugh, shaking his head. "Oh, we're good man."

Jaemin hummed again, still looking just a little too suspicious for your liking. "Kay... see you then."

With that, he finally walked away leaving you and Mark standing there in unison. You both let out a synchronized sigh.

"That was..." You trailed off.

Mark shook his head, smiling slightly. "I can see why you'd be scared to date someone...he's scary."

You laughed. "I'm not scared of him."

Mark raised a playful brow. "You sure? He had you real close to sweating back there."

You rolled your eyes. "I just think it's annoying."

Mark smiled, but then as if something weighed on him, his expression stiffened just a little. He glanced down at his coffee, rolling the cup slightly between his hands. "Seriously though... why don't you date anyone?"

You hesitated for a moment before exhaling through your nose. "I just don't want to." You shrugged. "I feel like relationships don't last. They start great, then fall apart."

Mark's gaze softened. "What makes you feel that way?"

You pressed your lips together for a moment before answering. "Just... a past relationship. It didn't work out, and honestly I don't think it's worth trying again. I'd rather just be by myself."

Mark didn't say anything right away, but you could tell something shifted in his demeanor. His usual playfulness dimmed just a little, like he wanted to say something, but wasn't sure if he should.

Finally, he offered a small smile. "Well... I get it I guess. If you don't try again, you won't ever know though."

"Then I guess I'll never know." You replied simply.

Silence settled between you, not awkward, but thick.

Mark looked down at his phone, biting his lip. "I should probably head out."

"Oh, okay." You said, nodding as you adjusted your coat.

He hesitated for a second before flashing his usual easygoing smile. "I'll see you this weekend, yeah?"

"Yeah... see you then." You said, forcing a small smile back.

🎸⋆⭒˚｡⋆ ───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───── ⋆⭒˚｡⋆ 🎸

When you arrived at the hangout together, arms casually brushing, laughter slipping easily between you, no one batted an eye. You were affectionate without forcing it, leaning into each other, whispering small things that made no sense to anyone else, it felt effortless.

As the night wore on someone suggested a drinking game—Truth or Dare, with shots.

The group quickly agreed, the buzz of alcohol already making everyone a little looser, a little bolder.

"Drinking Truth or Dare?" Mark asked, raising a curious brow as he turned to you.

"Yeah, we do it all the time." You replied, already a bit tipsy, your tongue a little looser than it should be. "You don't have to if you don't want."

Mark smirked. "No, I want to."

And with that, the game began.

The first round started with a collective shot to get things going. The group quickly fell into a rhythm—questions growing more personal, dares becoming more ridiculous.

Then it was your turn, and your gaze flickered over to Jaemin.

"Jaemin." You said, a slow smirk creeping onto your lips. "Truth or dare?"

He leaned back casually, but cocky. "Truth."

You twirled your shot glass between your fingers as a sinister thought grazed your mind. "Is it true you've been thinking about breaking up with your girlfriend?"

The air tensed. Jaemin's easygoing expression fell for just a second, his jaw clenched.

"Y/n, what the fuck? No." His voice was sharp as he reached for another shot and downed it in one go.

You shrugged, unfazed. "I was just curious. You always made fun of me for being single so... this is ironic, isn't it?"

Jaemin exhaled through his nose, shaking his head. "Okay, I've got a truth for you then Y/n."

You raised a brow, taking a slow sip of your drink. "Fine, hit me."

His eyes darkened just a little, his smirk twisting into something sharper. "Is it true that the reason you took this long to get into a relationship is because of how shitty your ex treated you—that you tolerated for months?"

The table went quiet.

You felt your stomach twist, but you forced yourself to roll your eyes, refusing to let the weight of his words show on your face. "Jaemin, please."

Jaemin shrugged like it was nothing, but the tension between you two was thick. This happened often, your tipsy back and forths, but tonight it was different.

"Okay Y/n. Truth or dare?" Chenle's voice cut through, attempting to redirect the conversation.

"What? I just went." You said, shooting him a look.

"Go again." Chenle pressed, his gaze locked on you.

You sighed, deciding it was better than letting Jaemin's words linger. "Fine, dare."

A slow grin spread across Chenle's face. "Alright, I dare you and Mark to do seven minutes in heaven."

You blinked. "What, are we teenagers? Seven minutes in heaven?"

Mark turned to you, his expression unreadable, but amused.

"You picked dare." Jaemin's voice cut in. "You have to do it."

"Jaemin, hush." Chenle muttered, shooting him a look.

You sighed dramatically before standing. "Fine, whatever. C'mon Mark."

Chenle led you to a small, dimly lit closet, shoving you both inside before closing the door behind you.

The space was tight—so tight that your knees brushed his, your shoulder pressed into his chest. A dim, flickering light illuminated the space, casting soft shadows on Mark's face.

"Wow, this is kinda snug." You murmured, shifting slightly.

Mark let out a breathy chuckle. "Yeah... sorry, my hand kinda hurts. Do you mind if I...?" He gestured vaguely, and you understood immediately.

"Go ahead." You said, letting him wrap his arm around you to ease the angle.

For a moment, there was nothing but silence, the sound of muffled voices outside the only thing filling the space, then Mark spoke.

"You know..." His voice was quieter now, almost hesitant. "You're more than what you've had in the past... no matter what Jaemin says."

You stilled, no one had ever said that to you before. You turned to him, meeting his gaze in the dim light. His expression was softer than usual. Without thinking, you reached forward and pulled him into a hug.

"I appreciate you so much Mark." You whispered, your arms tightening around him.

His breath hitched slightly before he returned the embrace. "I appreciate you too."

When you pulled back, you were still close—so close that your breaths mixed, your faces mere inches apart. Mark looked at you, his gaze flickering down to your lips. Before you could process it, he leaned in.

And you let him.

The kiss started slow, tentative, unsure—before something in both of you snapped. His hands found your waist, pulling you closer, and you melted into him. The kiss deepened, your fingers tangling in his hair, his grip tightening just slightly as if afraid you'd pull away.

You made a soft noise against his lips, and it was all he needed to kiss you harder, more desperately.

He broke the kiss for a second, looking at you with glossy eyes as you both caught your breaths. Before you could lean in, there was a knock on the door.

You both froze, your lips slightly parted, your breaths uneven.

Chenle's voice came through. "Alright, time's up."

You swallowed, pulling away fully. Mark's ears were flushed pink, his chest rising and falling just as fast as yours. Without a word, you reached for the doorknob and stepped out.

As you both took your seats, the air between you had definitely shifted. You avoided looking at Mark, but every time your eyes accidentally met, you couldn't help but smile. It was stupid, but something about it made your whole body feel light. Jaemin, of course was the first to notice.

"What, did you guys fuck or something?" He asked, staring at the two of you.

"Cut it out." Chenle interjected. "If she's calm now, then you need to be— or do we need to send you to the closet?"

You let out a small giggle at that, shaking your head.

Jaemin scoffed but let it go, leaning back in his seat. "Whatever." He said "She knows I love her." He said, quietly.

Something in his tone made you pause for just a second, but before you could even unpack that your eyes flickered back to Mark, and just like that, the rest of the room faded.

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February 7th – The Day the Project Was Due

The moment you woke up, you grabbed your phone and texted Mark.

"It's the day!"

It didn't take long for him to reply.

"Yep."

You smiled, quickly typing out another message.

"Have you turned it in already?"

"Yep."

You paused for a moment, his short responses making your fingers hover over the keyboard. Maybe he was just busy... maybe you were reading too much into it.

"And you told me that everything should be graded by the 12th?"

"Mhm."

Your stomach twisted slightly, this wasn't like him. Usually Mark was more responsive, more animated. Right now, his texts felt distant, dry. You tried to shake the feeling.

"Well... good luck. I'm scared for you 😭."

"Thxs."

That was it... just thxs?

Something felt off, you couldn't quite put your finger on it—maybe it was the lack of emojis, or the way you were imagining his voice flat and indifferent.

You hesitated before typing:

"... Are you okay?"

"Yep, I'm cool."

You frowned.

"You sure?"

"Yep."

There it was again. The same short response.

Your fingers hesitated over the keyboard, but you decided not to push. If something was wrong, he'd tell you.

"Um... okay. Anyways, do you want to meet up for lunch today? I'm reallyyyy craving a sandwich right now."

A moment passed before his reply came in.

"I can't today... sorry."

Your stomach twisted again, but you forced yourself to brush it off.

"Oh... that's fine. I'll talk to you later."

You sat with your phone in your lap, waiting—hoping he'd text first like he usually did, but the hours passed, and there was nothing. No check-ins, no requests to hang out. Something didn't feel right. Just radio silence.

You sent a few more texts over the next few days, but his responses were slow and repetitive.

"Not today, sorry."

"I'm busy, maybe later."

"Sorry, can't."

Days blurred together, and before you knew it, it was February 12th. You grabbed your phone, barely able to contain your anticipation.

"Today's the day... I'm nervous... excited."

Mark's reply came a few minutes later.

"Lol yeah."

You hesitated. His texts still felt off, but you pushed the thought aside.

"Make sure to update me!"

This time he didn't even respond with words. He just liked the message. Your stomach sank slightly, but you told yourself it was fine... maybe he was just stressed.

You waited all day, checking your phone every few minutes, but the message didn't come until late—almost 11 p.m.

"So... I got a B."

You blinked at your screen, rereading the message. A B? After all the work you both put in?

"WHAT?" You typed back, your frustration evident.

"Yep."

You knew he had wanted an A. That was the whole deal, if he got an A, he'd go to the Valentine's Day party with you.

A small pang of disappointment settled in your chest as you hesitantly typed:

"Aw man, does that mean you won't go to the Valentine's party with me?"

A pause.

"Well... A deal's a deal. So no."

You frowned, staring at the screen. You knew it was silly to be upset—after all, this was fake and yet... it still kind of stung.

"Aw :("

"Sorry man."

You sighed.

"Nothing for you to be sorry about. We worked super hard... your professor will get knocked off their feet next time... swear."

"Yeah haha."

The conversation felt like it was ending, but you couldn't shake the feeling that something was wrong.

"I hope you're okay?"

A moment passed before he replied.

"I'm fine."

You stared at his response for a moment before liking the message. That was that, The deal was off... no party, no fake date. Just like that, your arrangement was over. And maybe... maybe it was for the best.

Right?

You were half asleep when your phone buzzed again. Groggily, you reached for it, expecting it to be some random notification, but it wasn't.

It was Mark.

"I mean... are you still going to the party?"

Your eyes widened slightly. You sat up, rereading his message just to make sure you weren't dreaming.

Your fingers moved quickly.

"Probably, so I at least won't be alone on Valentine's Day 😂."

A few moments passed before he replied.

"You don't have to tell them we broke up and all that... maybe just say I'm sick or something."

Your eyebrows furrowed slightly.

"Then they're gonna be expecting you to go to future couple things. Might as well tell them we broke it off now."

A pause.

"Ah... yeah, right. Sorry."

You sighed.

"No need to be. This was bound to happen anyways. We can't fake it all our life."

The words felt wrong as you typed them.

"Yeah."

And that was that. The end of the story, at least... that's what you thought. Until the day of Valentine's Day, when your phone buzzed again.

🎸⋆⭒˚｡⋆ ───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───── ⋆⭒˚｡⋆ 🎸

You stared at the name on your screen. Mark.

A part of you had expected the conversation to end earlier, but here he was, still texting about it.

"Did you already tell your friends we broke up?" He asked.

"Well... yeah." You replied, faster than you intended.

There was a long pause. The three little dots popped up for a second, then disappeared. You swallowed, waiting for his next message.

"Damn it. My teacher just randomly curved my grade. So I'm at an A now."

The abrupt change of topic made you blink, but your fingers moved quickly across the screen.

"Omg, that's amazing. I'm proud of you. I know you wanted an A."

"Thank you, thank you—but what about you?"

"What about me?"

"I have to hold up my end of the bargain."

Before you could ask what he meant, another text came through.

"Is it too late to come to the party with you?"

You froze, rereading the words. Deep down, you were excited—excited to spend another moment with Mark, when lately the people around you felt a little unbearable. You knew you shouldn't be so eager, but still...

"I mean... I guess not. I do want to see the look on Jaemin's face when you walk in anyways. He's been taunting me and I haven't even seen him in person yet. You don't have to come though, I promise."

"A deal's a deal."

A small, reluctant smile tugged at your lips.

"Sounds great."

"Is there a dress code? Do you want to match or something?"

"I mean, that's up to you."

"I told you I was gonna be the best boyfriend they've ever seen... for that, you have to tell me how the best boyfriend is supposed to be."

"Just be you."

He saw it instantly. The typing bubbles appeared, then disappeared. You wondered what he was about to say but changed your mind on. Before he could reply, you sent another message.

"We have to meet up early so we can get each other gifts. "

"Yeah, for sure. I can come pick you up in about three hours, okay?"

"Sounds good to me."

You set your phone down, exhaling. Three hours.

Time slipped by faster than you expected, and before you knew it, there was a knock at your door. When you opened it, Mark stood there with his usual bright grin.

"Long time no see." You greeted, unable to stop the smile spreading across your face.

"Long time no see." HE echoed, his eyes flickering over you before landing on your sweater.

You followed his gaze, then looked at him.

"Oh, we're matching?" You asked, noticing the way his red sweater mirrored yours.

Mark chuckled. "Yeah. Great minds think alike, I guess."

"So, are you ready to go?" You asked, slipping on your shoes and shutting the door behind you.

"Yep." He said, stuffing his hands into his pockets.

The drive to the store was filled with the usual back and forth, music playing softly in the background as Mark tapped his fingers against the steering wheel. Every now and then, you caught him sneaking a glance at you, but he never said anything about it so you didn't either.

"Okay." You said as you walked inside the store together. "We pick out a gift in five minutes, and no peeking at each other's choice until the party."

Mark let out a small laugh. "You think you can find me something good in five minutes?"

"Obviously." You smirked. "But you? I don't know Mark. I feel like you'll panic buy the first thing you see."

"Wow." He placed a hand over his heart. "That's the faith you have in me?"

"Prove me wrong then."

His eyes held yours for a moment, something unreadable flickering in them before he exhaled and nodded. "Alright, five minutes. See you at the door."

You grinned before spinning on your heel, heading straight into the aisles.

Mark found himself standing in front of a shelf filled with different gift options—some fun, some practical, some completely ridiculous. He ran a hand through his hair, glancing over at where you were browsing on the other side of the store. You looked so at ease, so sure of yourself. Mark? Not so much.

It wasn't that he didn't want to get you something—he did. Maybe a little too much. That was the problem. How was he supposed to pick something casual when everything in him wanted to get you something that meant more?

Sighing, he grabbed some crochet flowers off the shelf, inspecting it. It had to be just enough. Not too much, not too little. Just enough, plus, he remembered you saying something about roses in the past.

At exactly five minutes, you both arrived at the door, each holding a gift bag.

"Done?" You asked, tilting your head.

"Done."

You squinted at his choice. "Did you panic buy?"

He scoffed. "No faith. Absolutely no faith in me."

As you both headed back to the car, the air between you felt lighter. The slight hesitation in Mark's eyes was still there, but he was smiling—really smiling—and it made something in your chest warm.

By the time you arrived at the party, the house was already buzzing with music and laughter. Groups of people were gathered in the living room, some sprawled across the couches, others standing with drinks in their hands.

All eyes turned when you and Mark walked in together.

You felt it instantly—the shift in the room, the way conversations paused, the way Jaemin's smirk deepened as he leaned back against the counter.

"Well, well." Jaemin drawled, crossing his arms. "Look who decided to show up together."

You rolled your eyes. "Don't start."

Mark, to your surprise, just smiled, wrapping an arm around your shoulder with ease. "What? We always keep people guessing, right?"

Jaemin raised an eyebrow, clearly amused, but said nothing.

You turned your head slightly, looking at Mark. His hold on you was relaxed, casual—like it was nothing at all. His fingers lightly pressed against your shoulder, and when you glanced up at him, there was something in his expression that made your stomach flip. Maybe tonight was going to be more interesting than you expected.

The night unfolded in a blur of laughter and chatter, the energy in the room buzzing as the party carried on. At first, it was subtle—the way you and Mark naturally gravitated toward each other, always within arm's reach, but then came the couple's games.

Someone had pulled out a deck of "Couple's Challenge" cards, a ridiculous party game daring pairs to complete tasks together.

"You two are playing." One of your friends declared, shoving the deck into your hands.

You barely had time to protest before Mark shrugged. "Might as well." He said, flashing you a playful grin.

Your heart stuttered for a second, but you rolled your eyes. "Fine, ut if we lose I'm blaming you."

The first challenge was simple—"Hand holding for the next three rounds." Mark didn't hesitate. His fingers slid between yours, warm and steady.

"Easy." He murmured, giving your hand the smallest squeeze. You told yourself it was just part of the game, but the way your pulse quickened said otherwise.

The next challenge was worse.

"Whisper something sweet in your partner's ear."

You barely had time to react before Mark leaned in, his breath warm against your skin.

"You look really pretty tonight." He whispered, low enough for only you to hear.

You froze, heat rising to your cheeks as your grip on his hand tightened.

"That's cheating." You muttered.

He only smirked. "You gonna call a ref?"

Before the next round could start, someone announced: "Cookie decorating time!" and everyone quickly moved toward the kitchen, where trays of plain sugar cookies and bowls of colorful icing were laid out.

You and Mark grabbed a spot at the counter, picking up two cookies.

"What's the plan?" You asked, squeezing a tube of red icing.

Mark tapped his chin, thinking. "I'll make yours, and you make mine."

You raised a brow. "So we're setting each other up for failure?"

"That's the spirit." He teased.

You narrowed your eyes at him before getting to work. Five minutes later, Mark burst out laughing. "What is this?" He asked, holding up his cookie—a lopsided mess of icing with a poorly drawn smiley face.

"It's you." You said proudly.

"This looks like a crime scene."

"You're ungrateful."

"Let's see yours then." He slid his cookie toward you, and to your surprise, it was... actually kind of cute. A small heart drawn in icing, a little crooked but undeniably sweet. You blinked at it, warmth creeping up your neck.

"Not bad." You admitted, trying to sound unaffected.

Jaemin, still lounging across the room, clapped his hands together. "Alright." He said, his smirk widening. "Since we're all feeling festive—why don't we open gifts?"

The room filled with murmurs of agreement, but your heart skipped. You turned your head slightly, meeting Mark's gaze. His hesitation was brief, just a flicker, before he nodded.

"Guess it's time." He murmured.

The room was filled with scattered wrapping paper and laughter as gifts were exchanged, the warm glow of the fairy lights adding to the cozy atmosphere. One by one, people unwrapped their presents, each reaction bringing a new wave of excitement.

Finally, Jaemin leaned forward, smirking. "Alright lovebirds, your turn."

"Alright, alright." You said, reaching for the small bag you had picked out earlier. You handed it to him with a teasing smile. "Here you go. Try not to cry."

Mark took the bag, holding it up dramatically. "Ladies and gentlemen, we are gathered here today to witness what is about to be the greatest gift ever given."

Laughter erupted around the room, but you just rolled your eyes. "Oh my God, just open it."

Mark finally stuck his hand in the bag, pulling out a sleek, keychain shaped like his favorite guitar.

His eyes widened slightly before he let out an impressed whistle. "No way." He said, running his fingers over it. "How did you even find this?"

You shrugged, grinning. "I have my ways."

He twirled the keychain between his fingers before nodding in approval. "Alright, I'll admit it—this is actually sick." He turned to the group. "Thanks, really." He murmured, and for a second, his voice was softer, more genuine.

You felt your heartbeat stutter.

"Okay, okay." Jaemin interrupted, smirking. "Now, what did you get for her Mark? Better be good."

Mark grinned, reaching behind him and pulling out a simple brown paper bag. "Alright, I went with something classic."

You took the bag from him, curiosity bubbling in your chest. As you opened it, your breath hitched.

Inside was the bouquet of crochet roses, your favorite flower.

You looked up at him, eyes wide. "Oh my God... you remembered?"

Mark's smile softened. "Of course I did."

A collective "Aww" echoed through the room as you stared down at the roses, warmth spreading through your chest. It was such a simple gift, but it meant more than words could express. Before you could say anything else, Mark clapped his hands together.

"Alright, I actually have one more surprise."

Your brows furrowed. "Wait—what?"

He stood up, brushing his hands off. "I'll be right back."

The group looked around with curiosity as Mark disappeared down the hallway. Moments later he returned, carrying his laptop.

"Uh... can I hook this up to the TV?" He asked, looking toward Jaemin.

Jaemin raised an eyebrow but nodded. "Yeah, go ahead man."

Mark quickly connected the laptop, and after a few seconds, the screen flickered to life. Your stomach flipped when bold white letters appeared on the dark background.

"200, by Mark... for Y/N."

Your breath caught in your throat and then, music started playing.

“First, you crashed into my life and you just broke, my roof and my window, girl, you had me shook—”

Your eyes widened in shock. It was the song you had found in his notebook. The one he had been working on, the one he had never let you hear.

Your heart pounded as the video started and suddenly, you were on screen.

The footage was a collection of moments—the two of you laughing during late night study sessions, joking around between takes for the project, him catching you off guard with his camera and you playfully shoving him away. The edits were smooth, timed perfectly to the beat of the song. You felt mesmerized as you listened to the lyrics.

They were about you.

Every verse, every carefully chosen word—it was all about the moments you had shared, about the way you made him feel, about the way he saw you when you weren't looking.

You barely noticed the people around you reacting. You were completely lost in the song, in the video. When a clip of you making a ridiculous face appeared you let out a soft laugh, covering your mouth. When the video cut to Mark recording you while you weren't looking, glancing at you, your heart clenched.

And then all too soon, the song ended.

The screen faded to black, and for a moment silence filled the room.

Jaemin just shook his head, muttering, "Wow." as everyone broke into collective "Aw's"

You turned to Mark slowly, your eyes shining. "You really did this... for me?"

Mark rubbed the back of his neck, suddenly looking a little sheepish. "Yeah. I mean... yeah."

You could only look at Mark.

And he could only look at you.

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When you arrived at Mark's apartment after the party, it was quiet, the only sound being the faint hum of the heater as you stepped inside.

"You really learned how to edit lyrics for this?" You asked, shaking your head slightly as you set the bouquet down on the counter. "Mark, that was so thoughtful... really."

He glanced at you with a small smile, shoving his hands in his pockets. "Learned from the best... for the best."

His words made your stomach flip, but you ignored the feeling and nudged his shoulder playfully. "You didn't have to do all that for me."

Mark raised an eyebrow, a smirk playing at his lips. "I told you I was gonna be the best boyfriend."

You chuckled, shaking your head. "Well, you got a B, so you really went far and beyond."

For a split second, something flickered across his face—hesitation. His body stiffened slightly, and he averted his gaze, rubbing the back of his neck.

"Well..." He trailed off, voice quieter. "She curved it... so I technically got an A."

You slowed your steps as you both entered his studio, brows furrowing. "Does your teacher provide feedback?" You asked, curiosity creeping in.

Without thinking he replied, "Yeah, of course."

Something about his tone made you pause. "What feedback did you get? I'm just wondering why you got a B in the first place. Not trying to toot my own horn, but the video was pretty nice... and the song—don't get me started, it was beautiful."

Mark let out a nervous chuckle. "Uh, yeah... haha. Sucks."

You narrowed your eyes. "Let me see it. I wanna read it."

Suddenly, he looked really nervous, shifting his weight from foot to foot. "Oh, uh—you wanna see it right now? My phone is dead, so we can't."

You turned your head toward the couch, where his phone was lying face up. Right on cue, the screen lit up with a notification.

Mark froze.

"You just got a notification." You pointed out, looking at him suspiciously.

His laugh was forced. "Oh, that's funny. Haha. Well, it's about to die..."

"Ah okay... but your computer's right there." You said, nodding towards his desk.

He followed your gaze, swallowing hard. His entire body tensed, and you could practically see the internal panic. Before he could come up with another excuse, you sat down in his desk chair and gestured at the laptop. "Just open it."

Mark hesitated. "Oh, I forgot my password."

You slowly turned back to him, deadpan. "Mark... What's wrong with you?"

He didn't respond.

"You're acting really weird, just open the computer."

His hands twitched at his sides before he finally moved forward, his fingers slightly shaky as he clicked onto the website to check grades.

"Log in." You said, watching him carefully.

Mark exhaled slowly, fingers hovering over the keyboard. "Are you sure you wanna see it?" He glanced at you briefly. "I just don't want your feelings to get hurt or anything."

"They're not." You said, glancing up at him.

He let out a dry laugh. "No, but they are."

You stared at him, your confusion growing. "Mark... just open it. I didn't sit here working on this project to not see what went wrong."

He nodded, pressing his lips together before finally typing in his username and password.

Incorrect password.

"Oops." He muttered.

You tilted your head. "Take your time."

He tried again. Incorrect.

And again. Incorrect.

"Mark." You said, your voice firmer now. "Seriously, what the fuck?"

His fingers hovered over the keyboard, but then he suddenly stepped back, raking his hands through his hair in frustration.

You stared at him, concern creeping in. "Mark, what's wrong—"

"I lied." He blurted out.

"What?"

His jaw clenched. "I lied."

A heavy silence settled between you. You shook your head slightly, still trying to piece together what he was saying. "About what?"

He exhaled sharply, his hands still gripping his hair. "I lied about the feedback. I lied about the grade. I've lied about everything."

You felt your heart drop. "What are you talking about?"

His gaze finally met yours hesitantly. "I got a perfect score, okay?"

"Wait... why did you lie to me?" You asked, your voice was quieter now. "Did you not want to go with me or something? You know you could've just said that."

A flicker of panic crossed his face. "No, no—it's not that."

"Then why?" You pressed, your emotions starting to surface.

Mark swallowed hard, his usual easy confidence completely gone. He looked at you, his expression torn, his fingers twitching at his sides.

"Y/n, I can't."

Your chest tightened. "No, you can. You literally can. Are you playing with me right now?"

He quickly shook his head. "No, no—I swear I'm not. Please Y/n... I don't want to ruin anything."

Your lips parted slightly, hurt creeping into your voice. "You kinda already did." You turned to leave, your heart pounding, but before you could step out of the room—

"I like you."

You froze, your fingers curling slightly at your sides, your back still turned to him.

Mark swallowed hard before continuing, his voice softer now. "I've liked you this whole time... but this was all fake. And then you told me you didn't want a relationship, and I just—I didn't want to ruin anything."

Slowly, you turned to face him.

He looked wrecked.

"And then the kiss and everything was so... complicated." He went on, his voice barely above a whisper. "I didn't know what to do, I was scared."

Your heartbeat thundered in your ears.

You exhaled shakily. "Do you know how unfair that is?"

Mark's brows furrowed. "What?"

You swallowed hard, your emotions rising to the surface. "I tried so hard to keep my feelings in check, to remind myself that this wasn't real. I told myself over and over again that I couldn't like you, but you... you were just lying to me the whole time?"

"Y/N—"

"What?" You said, a broken chuckle escaping your lips.

His gaze searched yours, uncertainty flickering across his face. "I—I didn't know you felt that way. You told me..." He trailed off, voice hesitant.

You exhaled sharply, shaking your head. "I know what I told you, and I was so stupid for saying it."

Mark's eyes softened, studying you carefully, taking a step closer

"So... you do want a relationship?" He asked, his voice uncertain.

You hesitated, lips parting slightly. "I don't know." You admitted.

His face dropped slightly, just for a second—but before he could say anything you spoke again.

"Try asking."

Mark blinked, his frown fading as realization washed over him. Slowly, a smile tugged at his lips, cautious at first—then warm. He took another step forward, reaching for your hands, his fingers curling gently around yours. His touch was warm.

"Y/n." He murmured, voice softer now.

"Will you be my girlfriend? For real this time?"

Your heart swelled at the way he said it—so sincere, so hopeful. A slow smile spread across your face as you nodded.

"Yes. I will."

Before you could say anything else, Mark let out a breath of relief, grinning as he pulled you in—his hands slipping around your waist, yours resting on his shoulders, and then he kissed you.

It wasn't rushed or hesitant like before. His lips moved against yours with a mix of relief, excitement, and something deeper. His arms tightened around you, pulling you closer, as if he was afraid to let go now that he finally had you.

You melted into him, fingers threading through his hair, smiling against his lips. When you finally pulled away, Mark rested his forehead against yours, breathless and grinning like an idiot.

"You have no idea how long I've wanted to do that, like, for real." He admitted.

"Well, now you can do it whenever you want."

His eyes gleamed. "Yeah?"

"Yeah."

Mark hummed, brushing his nose against yours before pressing another soft kiss to your lips.

"Best. Valentines. Ever." He murmured against your mouth.

You laughed, pulling him closer. "Yeah. It really is.

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The group hangout was going great—laughter, drinks, and playful chatter filling the air as everyone lounged around in Jaemin's living room. You were curled up next to Mark on the couch, his arm draped casually over the backrest behind you.

Jaemin squinted at the two of you, tilting his head. "Something feels... different between you two."

You glanced at Mark before turning back to Jaemin with a playful smile. "Well, we just hit our one month anniversary."

Mark's gaze flickered to yours, amusement twinkling in his eyes. He smiled softly, playing along.

Jaemin blinked. "Wait, what?" He leaned forward, looking genuinely confused. "Hasn't it been like... three months since you told me y'all got together?"

You and Mark just stared at each other, expressions blank as the realization sank in. Mark was the first to recover, turning back to Jaemin with the straightest face and shrugged.

"Yeah, whatever." He said smoothly. "Time is an illusion."

Jaemin shook his head, chuckling. "Y'all are so weird. I don't get paid enough to deal with you two."

"You don't get paid at all." Someone added from the other side of the room.

"Exactly."

You let out a laugh, shaking your head as you turned to Mark. He was already looking at you, his eyes warm.

"Time is an illusion?" You teased quietly.

Mark tilted his head, grinning. "Hey, it got us out of that conversation didn't it?"

You rolled your eyes but smiled anyway. "You're ridiculous."

"You like it." He shot back, bumping his knee against yours.

And yeah—you did.

Jaemin's voice snapped you out of your thoughts. "I still think something's weird about you two."

"Maybe you're the weird one." Mark countered smoothly.

Laughter rippled through the group again, the conversation shifting to something else. But you and Mark? You stayed in your little bubble.

Maybe time was an illusion, or maybe for the first time, it was finally moving exactly the way it was supposed to.

── 🎸⋆⭒˚｡⋆ ───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───── ⋆⭒˚｡⋆ 🎸 ──

#nct x reader #nct #nct fanfic #nct dream #nct dream x reader #nct fic #nct 127 #nct mark #mark lee oneshot #mark lee angst #mark lee x reader #mark lee fluff #mark x reader #mark #mark lee #mark lee nct #nct mark fluff #bjnet

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therobbycuepitt · 2 months ago

Note

Hi!!! Here's a cute thought. What about The Pitt boys calling you their wife without you guys being married (or engaged because that makes it kinda cuter imo)? What do you think? What would that look like?

Accidentally calling you his "Wife"

Okay. I only made these for the four main male doctors, so this doesn't include nurses or med students. Sorry! ((but let me know if you want me to add them and I can do a part 2!))

Robby

He's making casual conversation with an older man in one of the rooms. At a rare day in the ED, transitioning patients to their respective departments above the usual chaotic floor of the Emergency Room was going smoothly--patients waited at three hours minimun to get seen, and Gloria wasn't up his ass for anything she can think under the sun.

"My sweet Jenny was a nurse. She loved her job, used to patch me up real good better than any doctor--no offense, Doc," his patient says with a laugh. Robby chuckles but keeps his hands steady, continuing his sutures. "None taken."

"My wife's the only one I trust around here," boasting wasn't Robby's thing but thinking about you always puts a little puff in his chest.

"Oh don't listen to my husband, Mr. Danvers. He'd be a chimney the way he blows so much smoke up my ass," your voice claims the small room. Robby stills in his seat, blushing all shades of red. His patient lets out a huge belly laugh.

"She's a firecracker, Doc. Don't lose her."

Jack

A rowdy group of hockey fans got into a bar fight, resulting in multiple minor injuries--mostly cuts and bruises.

'The Pens suck!'

'The last time your team won the cup, Facebook wasnt even invented yet!' the two groups, which were Stars and Pens fans by the symbols on their jerseys, shouted back and forth between two rooms. Unfortunately for you, you were stuck with the Away team while Parker took care of the Home team.

"You sure you don't want to sub in there, Doc?" the officer--who brought the two groups in, stands beside Jack and John, watching the chaos like it was the most entertaining show on television.

"Nah, my wife's got it. She's tough," Jack smirks a bit when you send him a wink, silently telling him you've got it handled.

Shen chokes on his iced coffee. "Like, 'work wife' , right?"

Frank

"Hey, sweet cheeks. Wanna give me a sponge bath?" Frank leans on the center bay, head hanging low between his shoulders. He glances at Myrna over his shoulder--her usual self cuffed to her wheelchair, giving him a flirty smile.

Turning around to face her, he crosses his arms and chides, "I don't think my wife, would appreciate you flirting with me, Myrna."

"Never saw a ring on it, champ. I can be real flexible," she purrs with her gravely voice, one foot extending infront of her with hands seductively inching her hospital gown up her thigh. You catch the conversation from the curtain behind Myrna, pulling it back you catch Frank’s wide eyes.

"I'll only let you borrow him if you ask nicely, Myrna."

Shen

Shen has a problem, and its called caffeine. He wouldn't say he's addicted to it, no. But if he were, he would probably blame you for putting him on the iced coffee bender. You both have sort of schedule down for who gets coffee for who on alternate days of the week. It's kind of a way to test out new coffee shops around the area and try new blends.

'Super late. Dunkin good?' he texts you, speed walking down the street to the said establishment. His phone dings with a text from you with just a thumbs up emoji. He scans the doughnut display while he waits his turn in line, mentally telling himself to add your favorite round treat to the order.

Approaching the register, his phone goes off with your name flashing on the screen while he gives the worker his coffee order.

"John, could you get me a-"

"Yes. I know, I know. Hey, man. Can you add a Boston for my wife, please," his hand freezes mid reach to his jacket's pocket for his wallet. His phone, which was pressed between his left ear and shoulder, almost slips when he hears you giggling at the other end of the line. The cashier clears his throat, and John quickly recovers, finally getting his card out to pay.

"I... don't know why I said that."

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1999hiru · 1 month ago

Text

୨୧ cw. stalker! ellie, kidnapping, drugging, dubcon, dacryphilia

♡ very dark content, be cautious .ᐟ.ᐟ take care of yourself ⊱ ۫ ׅ ✧ ♡

─────────────────────────

ellie who's been stalking you since you served her at your town's local diner. she grew obsessed with the way you smiled, the sweetness in your voice, how pretty your hands looked when you handed her the bill. she was insanely jealous of how your coworkers got to speak to you so casually, her slender fingers tightly gripping the poor coffee cup when one of them got too touchy. she spent a lot of time visiting you, making sure she could see you at least once a day. she has your schedule memorized by now. ellie had become one of your beloved regulars, she was charming, kind, always tipping you more than she needed to. you had no complaints, anything would help since you had to pay rent all on your own!

ellie who sits in her car for hours, waiting till your shift was over like she often did. you must’ve had a busy day, you’re running later than usual. her eyes were heavy with exhaustion before she saw you closing up, locking the door and making your way to your car. she’s waiting till you pull out of the small parking lot before she turns on her own engine, following you out. tonight was going to be special, she was going to make you hers. ellie made sure she was a few cars behind you, she didn’t want to scare you—raise any suspicions of a car following you, she had to be meticulous. she couldn’t mess this up.

ellie who ends up at your apartment complex, parking on the other side of the lot and waiting patiently till you gathered your things. she sees you leaving in her mirror after a while, slow steps to the front door. ellie adjusts the hat on her head, the mask over her mouth, before she leaves too. she’s walking a little faster to get behind you, entering with you into the dimly lit lobby. you’re swiping your keycard over the sensor and opening the door for the stranger behind you, a kind smile on your face. ellie gives you a small nod, the both of you waiting for the elevator to come down. eventually, it does. your fingers hover over the many buttons, "what floor?" you ask, that same syrupy tone in your voice. ellie doesn't reply, only stares at you. all of a sudden, there's a cloth over your nose and a voice in your ear. your vision goes black.

ellie who stands at the foot of the mattress you're laying on, the one she covered in the comfiest blankets she could find—set with two big fluffy pillows, she was waiting for you to wake up. her hands are clammy and her brain is running with a million thoughts at once, eyes taking in the sight in front of her. you’re still in your work uniform, your wrists cuffed together and your belongings stashed somewhere in ellie’s bedroom. your eyes are still closed, your chest rising and falling with every unconscious breath you took. ellie’s nervous, but you’re the only thing she’s ever needed. she thinks you look perfect with her. she would’ve done it all over again. you belong with her.

ellie who watches you stir from your sleep, a small moment of peace when you haven’t figured out that something was wrong yet—but it’s quick, the quietness of ellie’s basement has turned into shrill screams bouncing off the walls, your feet kicking away at the blankets and your back pressed up against the cold wall in seconds. your eyes are big and panicked, thrashing around in the metal restraints. it’s no use. “i know.. i know you’re scared. but i’m not going to hurt you, i just want you to see how good i’ll treat you. i promise.” you’re shaking your head no, like it’ll do something, but it’s far too late. you’re in a dark room. there isn’t any windows and the walls looked thick. no one would hear you. the realization shakes your limbs and makes you dizzy, your head is pounding now, but you notice that the woman in front of you looks so familiar…

ellie who winces at your cruel words, “you fucking creep! you’re a stalker!” who didn’t expect your sugary voice to sound so mean, but it makes her smile. she’s learning new things about you everyday. you feel a chill run down your spine when she smiles at you, genuinely, instead of killing you, or drugging you again. you probably shouldn’t piss her off—but you were doing the opposite. it was scarier that she smiled, you didn’t know what to make of it. so you play nice. “you’re that customer right? please, i won’t tell anyone—just let me go, please...” you beg, tears pooling in your eyes. your heart might give out if it beats any faster.

ellie who feels a pang in her chest at your desperation—she never wanted to hear you like that, so she tries explaining, a sincerity in her tone that makes your skin crawl. “i can’t do that, i’m sorry. i did all of this for you.” she gestures to the rest of the room, decorations and details you failed to see. you haven’t really looked at much of the room until now. there’s a desk with your favorite snacks, only a few of them, a nice vase with fresh flowers. “how do you—those are my favorite..”you’re exasperated, your head spinning. “i like to observe.” the woman simply replies. you look at the rest, fairy lights are strung across the room, they’re dim, but it was warm. cozy even. you would’ve felt relaxed if not for the situation. you were kidnapped, you were somewhere else, and no one knew where you were. your chances of being found were slim. a new wave of anxiety bubbled in your stomach, tears dripping down your face. “what do you want? i’ll give you my wallet, my car, anything—just please i can’t, no..”

ellie who shushes you, holding your face in her hands while she smoothes your messy hair over. she presses a kiss to your forehead, an icky feeling settling in your stomach. “i don’t need any of those things, i just need you.” your world seems to collapse at her words. in every movie you’ve seen, most people just want what you have—your money, your car, something materialistic. it was the most probable reason. the most realistic. but she wanted you? needed you? you had no idea what that meant. but if you couldn’t offer up your belongings, there was no way out.

ellie who introduces herself to you, gives you her full name and what she did for a living—how she got to know you, the first day she ever saw you. you’re unresponsive the entire time, only giving your name in return. (which of course, she already knew what your name was) you feared she would hit you, or drug you again if you hadn’t. your body is weak from the lack of water and food, achy and cold, you’ve been denying every offer that ellie had given you. she wanted to feed you, make sure you were hydrated, but for the past week you’ve only kept yourself facing the grey cement, curled up in a pile of blankets. ellie knew you would come around eventually. she left a plate of food and a cup of water for you, right next to the mattress, sometimes you could feel her just sitting there. you never looked.

ellie who’s more than happy when you start eating by week two. your bites are small, chewing slowly, but you’re eating. she can tell you’re still panicked. your shaky hands make it hard for you to hold a spoon with soup in it, and so she gives you a pill—something to calm your nerves. you take it, hesitantly, but what choice did you even have? you swallow it down with a big gulp of water and lay against the wall. it takes a while for you to feel something, but it feels like you’re even slower. your head is fuzzy, and ellie’s voice are distant echoes. the cuffs are still tight around your wrist.

ellie who’s suddenly right next to you, her lips pressed against yours. you try fighting her off, but you can’t. you can’t move your hands, can’t get up with your jelly limbs. she’s kissing you slowly and you feel her tongue slide against yours, her saliva pushing it’s way into your mouth. you swallow, hearing a quiet moan from her—your heart should be pounding, but it’s awfully quiet inside of you. you think you’ll die soon, it felt like it. you feel something wet all over your cheeks, are you crying?

ellie who licks up your tears, stickiness growing in her underwear. “you look even prettier when you cry, m’ so glad to have you..” she mumbles in your ear, she sounds so far away. she’s roughly shoving her hand down your pants, you whimper, your body feels alarmingly light, she drags her fingers up and down your cunt—ellie’s groans and warm breaths against your ear. “no.. no, ellie please,” you’re whispering, she shushes you again, comforting and soothing, taking you for herself. she’s thrusting into you gently, a kiss to your forehead, pushing in and out while you cry in her arms. this was all she ever wanted.

ellie who finishes just from how you sound when you cry, a loud moan of your name and her fingers jamming right against that spot inside of you so harshly it makes you shudder. she doesn’t bother making you finish, she knows she has all the time in the world for that. so she cleans herself up in the bathroom she set up for you, coming back with a set of pyjamas and a cup of juice. you change, take a tiny sip, your body still feeling limp and numb, and you curl back into a ball on the worn out mattress. you can slowly feel your heart beating in your chest, tingling in your fingertips. and you drift off to sleep. ellie will take her time. you’ll come around one day.

part 2 here ♡

tag list ♡

@morticeras @whisperingcherub @hyperbabes

#ellie williams #ellie williams smut #ellie x reader #ellie x fem reader #ella writes ── .ꔫ ellie williams ♡

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niwaart · 3 months ago

Text

LOST OMEGA

*Part1 *part2 *part3 *part4

As the car drove toward Wayne Manor, Bruce thought about all those years he'd spent searching for Y/N to no avail. He'd thought she'd run away after her fight with him, especially since she'd been angry at him for not giving her the chance to join Batman as a partner. If only he'd known she'd been kidnapped... if only he'd known she'd seen Jason killed...

In the backseat, Nightwing held Y/N's frail hand, feeling guilty every time he looked at her faded scars and her cuffed wrists. She smelled of fear and neglect, and though she'd fallen asleep now, her eyes bore traces of tears.

When they arrived at the manor, Alfred was waiting anxiously by the door. When he saw Batman holding Y/N in his arms, he nearly dropped the cup he was holding. "Oh...!" he whispered, his voice broken.

"Alfred, get her old room ready... and the medical exam room ready," Bruce said, his voice ragged.

Alfred was confused. "Y/N?" He thought she was gone, thought she'd left the family. After pulling himself together, Alfred nodded quickly as he led them inside.

Damian, still angry, paused at the door. "Dad, who is she?"

Bruce paused. "She's... your adopted sister."

Damian raised an eyebrow. "My adopted sister? No one ever told me about her."

"Because we thought she... wasn't with us anymore." Dick said sadly as he followed Bruce upstairs.

Bruce gently placed Y/N on the bed, while Alfred began a quick examination. "She's severely malnourished... and signs of torture," Alfred said, his voice trembling.

Bruce clenched his fists. The Joker... will pay for this.

Suddenly, Y/N jolted awake, her eyes wide with terror. "Robin! Where's Robin?!" she screamed as she struggled to get up.

"Y/N, you're safe now, this is your home." Bruce tried to calm her down.

But she looked at him apprehensively. "No... The Joker will take Robin again... I can't leave Robin!"

Damian, who was standing by the door, hesitantly stepped forward. "I'm here... no one will take me."

Y/N stared at him, then pointed a trembling finger at the "R" logo on his chest. "Robin... you're okay!" She jumped out of bed and ran toward him, but Damian quickly backed away.

"Don't touch me!" he shouted, trying to hide his confusion.

Y/N paused, her eyes filling with pain.

Bruce put his hand on Damian's shoulder. "She still thinks you're Jason... she just didn't know years had passed."

Damian looked at Y/N, then at the floor. "This is... stupid." But his voice wasn't as strong as he'd wanted it to be.

That night, after Y/N had settled back down to sleep, everyone gathered in the living room. Dick was sitting on the couch, his head in his hands. "All this time... she was there, locked in the dark."

Bruce was standing by the window, looking out. "We failed her."

Suddenly, they heard the door slam open.

"Where is she?!"

Everyone turned toward the sound. Jason Todd, now known as Red Hood, was standing in the doorway, his helmet to the side and his eyes burning with rage.

"Jason..." Dick whispered.

"You told me she ran away! You told me she left us! And now you're saying she's been with the Joker all these years?!" Jason's voice nearly shook the walls.

Bruce sighed. "We made a mistake."

Jason stormed into the room. "I want to see her... now."

When Jason entered the room, he saw the sleeping Y/N, and it felt like a knife had been pierced through his heart. She was almost a skeleton, her pale bunny ears moving slightly in her sleep.

"Oh my God..." Jason fell to his knees beside the bed. Jason couldn't speak, he just held her hand tightly.

Dick watched from the door of Y/N's room, while Bruce went with Alfred to more accurately review the scan results. Dick entered the room and placed his hand on Jason's shoulder, looking at Y/N's sleeping form.

"I could barely take one day of beatings from the Joker before, and that damn Lazarus Pit only made it worse and I went crazy... But her? She spent over five years under the Joker's torture... We're lucky she's still alive..." Jason whispered in pain, sobbing silently, his tears falling onto Y/N's hand as Dick hugged Jason tightly.

Damian was just watching silently from the doorway.

The next day, Y/N woke up screaming Robin's name. Dick was beside her, hugging her and gently cooing, trying to calm her down. "It's okay... Robin's fine, I promise... Jason's fine..." Dick said gently, wiping Y/N's tears away. Jason was outside the room, scared and nervous. He could hear Y/N calling his name... His hands were shaking, his breathing shallow. He hesitantly entered the room after removing the aka scent blockers from his glands. "I'm here..." He approached the bed where Y/N was and knelt in front of her.

Dick was beside Y/N, brushing her messy hair back. Y/N looked at Jason in shock. She tried to get closer, then backed away, looking at Dick as tears filled her eyes again. "It's okay, it's Robin... it's Jason," Dick said in a low voice.

Y/N turned to Jason. He smelled like Jason, but with slight differences. Y/N slowly approached Jason and gently cupped his face. "Robin?..." she whispered.

Jason leaned into Y/N's touch. "Yes... I'm fine, and alive." As soon as he finished speaking, Y/N pulled him into her makeshift nest and hugged him tightly, crying bitterly. Jason hugged her back and cried with her. Dick held himself back so he wouldn't cry too. It wasn't long before Y/N lost consciousness, but this time she transformed into a small, fragile rabbit. Omegas only transform into their secondary species when they feel completely safe, and what surprised Dick and Jason was how fragile and small Y/N was. Jason's hands were larger than Y/N's, which worried Jason and Dick.

Damian entered the room with a frown on his face, carrying food. "I brought breakfast, Alfred said-..." Damian couldn't finish his sentence at the sight before him... Was that a rabbit? He didn't know rabbits were that small... And where was Y/N? After a few seconds, he deduced that the rabbit was Y/N! He immediately placed the food on the table and went to see the rabbit closer.

"Is... Is that Y/N?" Damian asked, placing his hand on the rabbit's head. "Yes." Dick answered, snapping a picture of Y/N and sending it to Bruce.

"She's so small... can I hold her?" Damian looked at Jason excitedly. Damian was known to love animals, so this was only to be expected.

"Of course not." Jason carried the small bunny away from Damian and held it close to his chest.

Damian frowned and shouted angrily, "Why?!"

"Because you're still a kid." Jason sneered.

Damian was about to reply if Dick hadn't interrupted, "That's enough. Bruce asked us to bring her downstairs for another checkup." Jason and Damian turned to Dick, who snatched Y/N from Jason's grasp and rushed downstairs before the two could fly him away.

"You bastard!!" Jason shouted, running after Dick, followed by Damian, who pulled out a sword from God knows where.

I'm sorry to make you wait so long for this part, but I made more than ten scenarios for this part and I was torn on which one to choose 🥹 thank you for waiting and reading ❤️🤍❤️🤍

Tagelist:

@reeyy0-2

@natsukicookies

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hereforuconnwbb · 2 months ago

Text

The Study of Us - CHAPTER 7

paige x azzi (pazzi)

au fic!

word count: 6.4k

warning: language

hey gangggggg so sorry this took a bit of time to do but as ive said ive been busy with life js lifeing and don't have time to write but have gotten time over the last few days to finally write and i actually missed it smmmm😭 but abt this chapter, its nth fun js boring stuff and i feel like ive just left it a bit incomplete at the end bc im getting tired now and just wanted to post smtg before i sleep but um hopefully next chapter i can plan smth to make it less boring 🤞🏽 feel free to leave suggestions for future chapters !!! hopefully its alr but ty guys for being patient 🫶🏽 hope u guys enjoy.

‼️‼️this wasn’t edited

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

Paige’s phone buzzed near her head, dragging her up from her sleep. She squinted at the screen with 1 eye open, groaning softly as she rolled onto her back and brought it closer. It was 8:13 am and there was a string of notis from Azzi that lit up the screen.

Azzi: mornin :)

Azzi: u up ?

Azzi: feel like grabbing coffee at the cafe before class ?

The corner of Paige’s mouth tugged up before she even finished reading the last message. She stared at the screen for a second, the sleep still heavy in her, but already she was sitting up.

She ran a hand over her face, still smiling, and messaged back.

Paige: yo bet js gimme 10, i will meet u there

She tossed the blankets off and pulled herself out of bed.

She threw on a white UConn basketball shirt along with one of her favorite grey Nike trackies, then paused by the mirror. Her hair went up into a ponytail. She ran a brush through it quickly, then again, just to be sure. She stared at her reflection for a second, smoothing the front of her shirt and tugging at the hem like it would help somehow. It wasn’t like this was a date or anything. Still, her cheeks felt warm.

She sighed, rolled her eyes at herself, and mumbled, “Get it together p” before finally turning to her duffel bag. She unzipped it just to double-check that her prac gear and shoes were packed neatly inside, tucked between her crocs and a rolled-up hoodie in case it got cold later throughout the day. Satisfied, she slung the bag over her shoulder and headed out the door.

By the time she stepped outside her phone buzzed.

Azzi: i js got here btw

Paige: bet bet im walking now. 5 min max

Azzi was waiting near the cafe entrance, leaned up against the wall just beside the door, her phone in one hand. After a few mins she looked up as Paige approached, and the small grin that spread across her face made Paige feel like she’d just won something.

She looked good. So so good. Her baby pink sweatshirt was soft and slightly oversized, sleeves pulled over her hands. Her jeans were loose, cuffed a little above her ankles. Her hair was pulled up in a high bun, wisps of curls falling around her face like they were supposed to be there.

“Hey.” Azzi said, smile easy, eyes soft.

“Hey.” Paige replied, not slowing until she was close enough to pull Azzi into a hug.

It was natural now. Azzi’s arms went around her like she’d been waiting for it. Paige’s went around her waist, chin brushing her shoulder for a moment. Neither of them said anything while they hugged.

When they pulled back, Azzi looked like she hadn’t stopped smiling. “I almost thought you’d still be asleep.”

“I almost was,” Paige admitted, her hand gently brushing against Azzi’s elbow as they walked inside, “but I wasn’t about to pass up coffee with you.”

They stepped into the cafe, the sounds of the machines and quiet conversation filling the air around them. Paige’s hand drifted lightly to Azzi’s back as they moved toward the line.

Near the back, half-tucked behind a tall plant and trying very hard to act casual, KK and Ice had been mid-conversation with their drinks when Ice nudged KK, eyes wide.

“Is that—”

“Bro. Yes,” KK whispered.

They both ducked lower behind their corner booth, trying to be stealthy as Ice started filming the exact moment Paige casually placed her hand on Azzi’s back. They didn’t even notice.

KK: yooooo look at p boogers, broski is WHIPPED

KK: they’re literally flirting in line BDHJIHJKDHHSA

Aubrey: huh wym ?? whos flirting in line ?

Aubrey: whats wrong w paige

Caroline: ???

Ice: video attachment

Ice: bro got her hand on azzi’s back like its nth 👀

Caroline: OOOOOOHHHHHHH SHITTTTT BDHAHBSAHHSHA

Aubrey: 😭😭😭 TS CRAZYYYYYY

Caroline: ugh theyre literally so gay literally definition of gay

KK: bro she’s got HEART EYES, i swearrrrr manee

Aubrey: p looks SOOOO soft for her

Caroline: i bet she’s already planning their wedding 😈

Meanwhile, Paige and Azzi were still deep in their own world. After they ordered, Paige immediately handed over her card before Azzk could even blink.

“You don’t have to pay,” Azzi said, almost pouting.

“Yea, but I want to,” Paige shrugged. “I’m not gonna let you pay for coffee when I invited you.”

“Wait, what do you mean? You didn’t invite me, I invited you.”

“Exactly. So I’m being polite.”

Azzi rolled her eyes but didn’t argue more. “You’re annoying.”

“You like it,” Paige said, a smirk playing on her lips.

Azzi tried not to smile at that, but it was hopeless.

They took a spot near the windows, sliding into one of the booths. Paige sat on the right, and Azzi automatically sat beside her instead of across. She curled slightly into Paige’s side without thinking. Paige’s arm slid around her shoulders like it was routine.

Azzi looked down at her cup, cheeks faintly pink. “You’re always so warm.”

“I run hot,” Paige said, taking a sip. “It’s a skill.”

Azzi bumped her shoulder gently. “A useful one.”

Their knees brushed under the table, and neither moved. Paige’s thumb idly traced a circle over Azzi’s shoulder through the fabric of her sweatshirt while they talked about random class stuff, how tired they were and other stuff about the upcoming tets.

Azzi leaned into her more as they sat, her voice softer now, “Thanks again. For last night.”

“For murdering your texts?” Paige said. “Anytime.”

Azzi laughed into her cup, eyes crinkling at the corners. “No, I mean just everything. It was a good day yesterday. Even when the two crashers came out of nowhere. ”

Paige looked at her for a second, her chest aching a little in that annoying, fluttery way it always did around her. She didn’t say anything. Just smiled, arm tightening slightly around Azzi’s shoulder.

Azzi glanced up at her, eyes flicking to Paige’s mouth and back without meaning to.

Paige noticed. But she didn’t say a word.

From behind the plant, Ice and KK exchanged silent screams, mouthing oh my god at the same time.

Azzi leaned her head briefly into Paige’s shoulder again, soft and easy. Paige didn’t move. She just sat there, coffee in one hand, the girl she really liked tucked into her side, pretending her heart wasn’t currently punching its way through her ribs.

Eventually, their drinks were empty and their hands were just wrapped around lukewarm cups, neither of them making a move to stand.

“We should probably go,” Azzi mumbled, though she made no move to leave Paige’s side.

Paige sighed dramatically. “Yeah, I guess if we want to survive death-by-math.”

Azzi let out a soft laugh, sitting up a little but still leaning into her. “You act like numbers are out to kill you.”

“They are,” Paige groaned, flopping her head back against the couch. “Every equation is a personal attack.”

Azzi smiled, brushing her hand lightly over Paige’s arm. “Good thing I’m here to protect you, then.”

Paige cracked one eye open, grinning. “My math bodyguard ?”

“Exactly,” Azzi said, nudging her playfully. “Armed with equations and the will to drag your dramatic ass through linear algebra.”

They stood, gathering their bags. Azzi pulled on her sleeve, tugging it back over her hand as they stepped into the morning light. The walk to class wasn’t far, just across campus, but they stayed close, brushing shoulders every so often as they moved.

“I’m glad we did this,” Azzi said quietly, gaze down at the sidewalk.

Paige glanced over at her, a lazy, warm smile tugging at her lips. “Me too.”

They reached the building, pushing through the heavy door as students flooded in around them. Paige held it open for Azzi, earning a small smirk from her.

“Such a gentlewoman” Azzi teased, bumping her shoulder against Paige’s as she walked in

“Don’t get used to it,” Paige shot back, but she was still smiling.

Inside the room, the class was already half-full, the usual scattered clusters of students hunched over desks or chatting. Azzi made her way toward her usual spot that was mid-left row, beside Caroline while Paige headed for the back right corner next to Aubrey.

As soon as Paige dropped her bag beside her seat, Aubrey turned to her, raising both eyebrows.

“So,” she said slowly, “anything you wanna share ?”

Paige blinked. “Huh ?”

“You and Azzi. Cafe. This morning.”

Paige froze, halfway through pulling out her laptop. “Wait, how do you even know that ?”

Aubrey grinned, waving her phone. “kk and ice.”

Paige’s face went hot. “You’re kidding.”

“Buddy,” Aubrey said, spinning the screen toward her. “do I look like I’m kidding ?”

The video was low-angle and grainy but unmistakably them with her hand resting on Azzi’s back, Azzi leaning into her. Her stomach twisted in that mix of affection and horror. “Oh my gosh.”

“We basically declared you guys the campus gay power couple,” Aubrey added.

Across the room, Caroline was saying almost the exact same thing.

“You and Paige, huh ?” she said, nudging Azzi as she pulled out a pen.

Azzi blinked. “What ?”

Caroline lifted her phone, holding it up with a smug look. “kk and ice were literally hiding behind a plant. They sent me and Aubrey a video. You two looked pre cozy.”

Azzi stared at her. “Wait how did they even—”

“Spying,” Caroline said, deadpan. “They’ve got eyes everywhere.”

Azzi buried her face in her hands for a second. “Geeeeez bruh.”

“Don’t worry,” Caroline said sweetly. “It was cute. P got that golden retriever energy and you got that soft princess energy.”

Azzi groaned louder.

That’s when the door creaked open again, and Jace strutted in. He dropped into the seat directly in front of Azzi without even looking back.

“So,” he started loudly, twisting slightly in his seat, “you just gonna block me ? Like that ?”

Azzi’s whole body tensed.

“I mean, damn Azzi,” Jace went on, turning fully now. “After everything like the sessions I kept you entertained while you were tutoring me. Cold, man. Cold.”

Caroline immediately leaned forward. “What in the absolute bullshit, maybe take the hint and shut up.”

He ignored her and turned back around. “And that last message ? To what ? Stop texting you, was it ? What even was that ?”

Azzi stared at the back of his head, jaw tight. “It wasnt—”

She stopped herself. She wasn’t about to explain that it wasn’t even her who sent the message. Or that she had no regrets about allowing Paige to block him.

He kept going. “I’m just saying, you don’t gotta be so rude. You were acting all sweet before like you actually wanted to help me.”

Azzi turned her head toward the window, trying to tune him out. Caroline pulled out her phone.

A second later, Paige’s phone lit up.

Caroline: p switch seats w me pls. jace the dumbass is not letting up and azzi looks like she wants to punch him.

Without hesitation, Paige stood, grabbing her stuff. She walked down the aisle, eyes locked on Caroline, who was already halfway up. They wordlessly passed each other, Caroline giving Paige a tight nod and smirk before sliding into the back next to Aubrey.

Paige dropped into the seat beside Azzi and leaned back casually, draping an arm over the back of Azzi’s chair. Then she slid her hand up to her shoulder and tugged her closer gently.

Azzi blinked, startled for a second but she didn’t resist. She let herself lean in and shifted her chair a little closer to Paige.

Paige stared straight ahead as she spoke, flat and sharp.

“Hey Jace ?”

He turned, expression smug.

Paige gave him a blank look. “Shut the fuck up.”

His smirk faded. “Bruh what ?”

“You heard me,” Paige said, her arm still around Azzi. “You’re so fucken loud, annoying, and nobody wants to hear your whiny ass complain about not getting free tutoring after being a creep.”

Jace scoffed. “Creep ? I—”

“Yea buddy,” Paige snapped, leaning forward a little. “I read your messages. All of them. I was the one who was messaging you and blocked you. Lucky I didn’t send worse.”

Jace looked like he might argue but one glance at Paige’s sharp expression and he backed off with a mutter, turning in his seat.

Silence settled around them. Caroline and Aubrey shared a look from the back.

Paige leaned back, hand still lightly resting on Azzi’s shoulder.

Azzi’s lips parted like she wanted to say something, but then she just closed them again and leaned into Paige’s side more.

“Thank you,” she said softly instead.

Paige’s thumb brushed her shoulder gently. “Anytime.”

They stayed like that, quietly tucked into each other, as Caroline turned around slightly and mouthed holy shit at Aubrey while she was filming from her seat, whispering into her phone camera.

—------------------------------------

The class continued on as if nothing had happened, but the air between Paige and Azzi felt different now. Paige’s arm stayed draped over Azzi’s shoulder, casual but firm, as she scribbled notes the professor was going through with her other hand. Every now and then, she would give Azzi a little squeeze or rub her thumb against her shoulder, and Azzi would shift slightly, the smallest of shivers running through her. Paige noticed, and though she kept her attention on the professor, her grin was quiet and knowing.

Meanwhile, Aubrey and Caroline, seated a few rows behind them, exchanged a knowing look, their eyes flicking between Paige and Azzi. Caroline leaned in, her voice low, though the grin on her face made it hard to keep the tone entirely serious.

“Ok, so that happened.” Caroline whispered, glancing at Azzi and Paige, whose fingers were still subtly brushing along Azzi’s arm. “They were basically kissing each other with their eyes when Jace started talking. I thought they were gonna combust right there.”

Aubrey, equally amused, whispered back, “I don’t know, but they definitely look a little cozy.” Her eyes sparkled as she watched the subtle way Paige’s hand moved down Azzi’s arm, still casually slung over her shoulder. “And don’t think I forgot about that photo I took last night,” she added, smirking.

Caroline blinked. “Wait, what photo ?”

“You know the one from last night.” Aubrey leaned in, her voice dropping. “The one where they were both asleep, tangled up on the couch at Azzi’s place ? Azzi practically had her face buried in Paige’s neck. They were wrapped in a blanket, holding each other like it was nothing.”

Caroline tried to stifle a laugh, eyes wide. “Oh my God. How did I forget about that ? Is that really how they’re gonna do this ? Just silently falling in love by embracing together?”

Aubrey grinned. “And we have it on camera. Don’t think it won’t get shown to the others later”

Caroline shook her head, hiding her smile behind her hand. “This is gonna be absolute chaos.”

Meanwhile, Paige’s attention was split between the lecture, which she was half-listening to, and Azzi. Her arm, still around Azzi’s shoulder, had gradually started to move slowly, subtly. It was a gentle massage, her fingers pressing into Azzi’s skin, a rhythmic movement that didn’t go unnoticed. Azzi, who had been trying to concentrate on the lecture, couldn’t help but flinch with every little movement Paige made. It wasn’t rough, it was just affectionate in a way that made her feel warmer than she expected.

Every time Paige’s fingers brushed against her skin, she felt her heart skip just a little bit faster. And yet, every time Azzi glanced over at Paige, she couldn’t help but look away quickly, biting back the smile that wanted to spread across her face. She could feel the tension between them shifting, but she couldn’t exactly name it except that it was undeniably there.

From the row in front of them, Jace couldn’t take his eyes off them. He kept turning his head back, glancing over his shoulder every few seconds, his eyes narrowed in disbelief. Paige caught him doing it once and shot him a hard look, her arm still draped over Azzi’s shoulder as if the gesture was as natural as breathing.

Jace smirked, leaning back in his chair with an exaggerated stretch, before sneering at them. “What, are you two, like, attached now ?” His voice was loud enough for the people around them to hear. “Basically on top of each other, whispering sweet nothings in class ? What’s next, holding hands in the hallways ? Honestly I wouldn’t be surprised.”

Azzi stiffened, but Paige’s grip on her shoulder tightened just slightly, a silent reassurance that she wasn’t going anywhere.

Paige’s voice was low. “If you say one more word Jace, I swear I’m going to throw my chair at you.” She let the threat hang in the air for a moment before adding, “And don’t even think about looking back at us again, you dumbass.”

Jace’s smirk faltered, but he quickly regained his cocky attitude. “What’s your problem ? Genuinely asking.”

Paige raised an eyebrow, her voice dripping with sarcasm. “Oh, I think you know what my problem is bud. You’re an asshole. And you’re somehow under the delusion that we give a fuck about what you think.”

He opened his mouth to say something, but the look Paige shot his way made him think twice. He shifted uncomfortably in his seat, finally turning around and focusing on the professor.

Paige rolled her eyes, muttering to herself as she leaned into Azzi just a little more. Her fingers traced over the back of Azzi’s neck now, massaging the soft skin just behind her ear. The small, deliberate movements of her hand were enough to make Azzi shiver again, her breath catching slightly as she adjusted in her seat.

“I swear,” Paige muttered. “This guy has no concept of personal space or boundaries.”

Azzi couldn’t help it. She finally let herself laugh, a soft, almost nervous sound, her face still a little flushed. “You’re too much, Paige.”

Paige’s smile softened as she shifted her arm to rub more firmly against Azzi’s shoulder. “I know, but I’m pre sure you like it.”

Azzi, her face a mix of bashful and amused, ducked her head a little, resisting the urge to smile wider. She could feel the heat in her chest spreading, especially with Paige so close, her hand still making slow, deliberate circles on her skin.

Aubrey, still trying to keep it together from behind, whispered loud enough for Caroline to hear. “Honestly, I think Paige is trying to kill Jace with some new strategy. I aint even know what it is.”

Caroline snickered. “Jace needs to watch out. Paige’s charm is lethal.”

Meanwhile, Jace was still occasionally glancing back, his eyes narrowing further each time he saw Paige and Azzi so close, the arm that was still resting around Azzi’s shoulder almost possessively. Finally, after a few more moments of frustration, he couldn’t hold it back anymore. He spun around in his chair once again, catching Paige’s eye.

“Ok seriously, stop staring at me like that. You’re making me uncomfortable,” he muttered, as though the idea of being intimidated by Paige was beneath him.

Paige raised an eyebrow, not a hint of hesitation in her voice. “You know what, Jace? You should be uncomfortable. You’re the last person I want to deal with right now.”

Azzi’s breath hitched at Paige’s words, the way she so easily stood up for herself. Her stomach flipped, and her heart raced, but she kept her face neutral, forcing herself to stay focused on the notes in front of her. Yet, she couldn’t stop herself from stealing a glance at Paige’s confident expression.

—------------------------------------

The final 10 minutes of class went by, but Paige and Azzi barely noticed. Azzi had grown more comfortable with the contact, leaning into it slightly, and while her cheeks still burned every now and then from the closeness, she no longer shied away. If anything, she found herself anticipating the soft press of Paige’s fingertips, the calm, steady rhythm that somehow helped her concentrate now better than anything else.

Behind them, Aubrey leaned into Caroline again, her voice now urgent with energy. “Okok, we have to go. Like, now.”

Caroline’s eyes sparkled. “We need to find KK and Ice immediately.”

Neither of them didn’t even wait for Paige or Azzi. Aubrey grabbed her bag, nearly knocking her notebook off the desk in the process. “Let’s move. I’ve got the video saved.”

Caroline was already halfway to the door. “Let’s just say this might be better than the couch photo.”

The 2 of them dashed out of the room, barely stifling their laughter as they disappeared into the hallway, leaving the classroom noticeably quieter.

Paige tilted her head slightly, brow raised in mild suspicion. “What the hell was that about?”

Azzi just smiled, eyes still on her notes. “I don’t even want to know. You’d probably chase them down.”

Paige grinned. “Yea probs.”

They didn’t get up right away. The lecture was over, but they remained in their seats, the sound of shuffling notebooks and murmuring classmates fading until the room had emptied. Paige slowly retracted her arm, giving Azzi space as she leaned forward on the desk, stretching her back. Her hand absently rubbed at her temple. “Ok. So like. Linear algebra still feels like rocket science.”

Azzi’s lips quirked. “That’s because you’re trying to think of it like math instead of movement.”

Paige blinked at her. “What ?”

Azzi shifted in her seat, turning toward her slightly, eyes thoughtful. “Ok, so hear me out.” She tapped her pen on Paige’s notebook. “Vectors, right ? Think of them as passing lanes on the court. You’re here” she drew a little dot labeled P “and your teammate’s over here” another dot labeled T. “The ball has to move in a straight line from you to them. That’s a vector.”

Paige leaned closer, her brow furrowing with curiosity. “Ok yea… that actually kind of makes sense.”

Azzi smiled. “And linear transformations are just… changes in the way the court behaves. Imagine the floor gets tilted. The path between you and your teammate changes. Maybe it’s easier to pass left, harder to go right. That’s how matrix multiplication works—it changes all the passing lanes.”

Paige stared at her for a moment, visibly stunned. “Wait. That’s… actually kinda genius.”

Azzi shrugged, cheeks pinking slightly under the praise. “It’s just how I think about it. It makes it easier to visualise. I will get into detail with different areas when we have more sessions.”

Paige was still watching her, something soft and warm brewing behind her eyes. “That’s why you’re such a good tutor,” she said, voice quiet. “You don’t just explain the math. You connect it to stuff people actually care about.”

Azzi looked down at her lap, trying not to smile too widely. “Well… I care if you pass.”

That sentence landed heavier than Azzi expected, and the silence that followed was different now full, charged, delicate. Paige opened her mouth, hesitated, then closed it again. Her fingers twitched slightly against her book.

Before either of them could say more, a voice from the front of the room cut through the air.

“Miss Bueckers ?”

They both looked up. Their professor was standing at the front of the room, his hands loosely clasped over a stack of folders.

“Yes, sir ?” Paige straightened up quickly.

“I just wanted to make sure you saw my email last night,” he said, stepping a little closer, his voice dropping to a more private tone. “The one about eligibility. I know Coach is watching those grades pretty closely.”

Paige gave a quick nod. “Yea, I saw it. I’m on it.”

The professor glanced between the 2 of them and at the open notebooks, the way Paige had shifted closer, the way Azzi hadn’t stopped watching her even while he spoke. His smile warmed.

“Good,” he said, then paused just long enough for them to notice. “And whatever this is ?” He motioned vaguely to the 2 of them, his tone light but full of meaning. “It seems to be working.”

Paige blinked. Azzi turned red.

“Oh,” Paige said, her voice suddenly higher. “Um uh, yea, no, were just—she’s tutoring me. It’s tutoring.”

Azzi nodded quickly. “Mhm, strictly academic.”

The professor gave a slow nod, lips twitching. “Of course. Welp, keep up the… good academic collaboration.”

And with that, he walked out.

The door clicked shut behind him.

They both sat frozen for a beat, the air thick with embarrassment and something warmer.

Paige let out a breath, half a laugh, half a groan. “Did he just…”

Azzi buried her face in her hands. “Oh my god. He totally thinks we’re—”

“Dating,” Paige finished for her, grinning as she leaned back in her seat, one leg bouncing. “He definitely thinks we’re dating.”

Azzi peeked out from behind her hands. “That’s embarrassing.”

Paige laughed, reaching over to nudge her knee gently with her own. “Or… flattering.”

Azzi raised an eyebrow, caught between flustered and intrigued. “Flattering?”

“I mean,” Paige shrugged, smiling lazyly. “You could do worse.”

Azzi stared at her, heart pounding. “Are you flirting with me ?”

“Hmmmmm I don’t know,” Paige said, still smiling, but there was something gentler in her voice now. “Am I?”

Azzi didn’t answer right away. She just looked at her, really looked at the way Paige’s fingers had started tapping lightly against the edge of the desk again, the way her eyes held just a little more softness than mischief now.

“No comment,” Azzi murmured, cheeks pink, her voice barely above a whispwr.

She shifted in her seat, feeling the warmth of the moment linger between them, like the soft afterglow of a nearly confessed truth. The quiet in the room seemed to stretch around them, and she took a deep breath, realising that they had both lingered long enough to notice the space that had shifted in the air between them. A gentle push of Paige’s knee against hers pulled her back from the thoughts swirling in her mind.

“Alright,” Paige finally sighed, her voice taking on a more normal tone as she pushed herself upright, stretching her arms above her head with a tired groan. “Let’s go. We’re not getting anything done here anymore.”

Azzi nodded, her fingers brushing across the open notebook in front of her one last time. She caught Paige’s glance as she reached for her bag, both of them hesitating for just a moment too long before standing up together. They moved in sync as they made their way toward the door, a quiet rhythm in their footsteps as they passed through the emptying classroom.

As they stepped into the hallway, the low hum of the campus still alive in the background, Azzi glanced at Paige, her voice soft. “So, when’s your next game?”

Paige tilted her head slightly, a small smile tugging at her lips. “This time next week,” she said, looking a little distant for a moment. “But I’m leaving Friday a few hours after the test. It’s an away game.” She met Azzi’s eyes then, her gaze direct but soft.

Azzi nodded slowly, her fingers tapping lightly against the strap of her bag. “Well, you’ll need to focus on that test then. You sure you’re ready?”

Paige grinned. “Not even a little. But I’ve got you, right ?”

Azzi smiled back, feeling a flutter in her chest. She was already reaching for the next logical step, the next way to help. “What if we studied every day till the test? I’ll help you, make sure you pass this thing. It’s not just a math test, right? It’s everything leading up to it. You’ll need all the help you can get.”

Paige raised an eyebrow, impressed and touched by Azzi’s determination. “You really want to do that ? Every day ?”

Azzi’s cheeks went pink slightly, but she didn’t hesitate. “Yeah. Well if you want to… But I’m serious. You can’t afford to fail this one. I’ll be here for you. I won’t let you miss anything.”

Paige couldn’t help but feel a soft warmth fill her chest at the thought. Her voice was quieter now, her words more sincere. “I appreciate that. I’ll need it, honestly. With everything going on, I don’t have much headspace for this test. But you ? You seem to make it easier.”

Azzi gave her a quick smile, trying to hide the feeling of her heart racing. “Good. Then it’s a plan. We’ll study every day till Friday.”

Before Paige could say anything more, a familiar voice interrupted, and both of them turned to find Aubrey, Caroline, KK, and Ice walking toward them, their chatter growing louder as they approached.

Aubrey practically skipped up to them, her grin wide. “There you two are. We were looking everywhere for you !”

Caroline raised an eyebrow, her gaze flicking between Azzi and Paige, a knowing smile tugging at her lips. “What were you two doing in there? You’ve been in that room for quite some time.”

Azzi and Paige exchanged a quick look, both of them blushing, but neither said anything, the unspoken truth still hovering in the air between them.

Aubrey didn’t seem to care about their hesitation. “We got something for you.” She pulled her phone from her pocket with a grin that was way too mischievous. “Remember last night?”

Paige froze, her breath catching in her throat. “What… what are you talking about?”

Aubrey’s grin grew wider. “You know exactly what I’m talking about.”

Caroline leaned in, her voice lower now, as if making sure no one else could overhear. “We’ve got a picture.”

Azzi’s eyes widened slightly as her gaze flickered nervously between Paige and the phone Aubrey was holding up. “A picture?”

“Yeah,” Aubrey said, her grin turning into something teasing. “A cute one.”

She tapped through her screen, and suddenly, a photo appeared on the screen—one of Paige and Azzi, curled up together asleep on the couch from last night.

Azzi’s breath hitched, and she couldn’t stop herself from looking at the photo, her stomach twisting. The image was so intimate, so casual in a way that made her feel exposed. She looked over at Paige, her heart hammering. Paige, too, was staring at the photo, her face a mixture of surprise and something else—something soft and a little bit embarrassed.

“Why did you even—” Paige started, her voice a little higher than usual.

Aubrey raised an eyebrow. “You think we weren’t watching you two? Come on, it was cute. Just look at how you were both out like lights. We had to capture it. It was a must.”

Azzi cleared her throat, her cheeks burning. “This is definitely not what it looks like.”

Carolinr gave her a look. “Oh, it looks exactly like what it is.”

KK and Ice were both quiet for once, exchanging glances but not saying anything. The 4 of them knew what the picture meant and what it implied. But Azzi and Paige were still caught in their own tangled feelings, none of them willing to admit the truth out loud yet.

Aubrey was the one to break the silence, her voice light but teasing. “So, when do you two want to make this official ? Or should we keep this little secret to ourselves?”

Paige shot her a glare, her smile still present but strained. “Oh my days shut up, Aubrey.”

Azzi ducked her head, her heart beating faster. “We—uh… we’re just—”

Caroline waved her off. “No need to explain. We know. But seriously. You two are adorable.”

There was a long beat of silence before Azzi finally raised her eyes to meet Paige’s. The weight of the conversation, of the feelings neither of them were ready to name, hung in the space between them.

The moment passed quickly, though, as Paige gave a shrug and turned to the group. “Alright, alright. Enough with the teasing. We’ve got stuff to do.”

Azzi nodded, feeling a strange sense of finality to the conversation. Her heart thumped in her chest as they began walking toward the stairs. But as they moved in tandem, closer now than they’d ever been, Azzi couldn’t help but wonder if something would shift.

—------------------------------------

As the teasing settled into warm laughter and light conversation, the group slowly began to drift apart, lulled by the gentle pull of their schedules.

“I swear, if Coach keeps pausing every five seconds to lecture, I might actually fall asleep with my eyes open,” Caroline groaned, slinging her bag over her shoulder.

“He’s definitely gonna do it,” KK said with a sigh. “Gramps loves a lil dramatic pause.”

Ice snorted. “Y’all better prepare yourself now. You know he’s sending us straight to weights after like emotional damage won’t be enough.”

Aubrey threw an arm around Paige’s shoulders. “Come on, film starts in thirty. Let’s roll.”

But Paige didn’t move. “I’ll catch up in a sec,” she said casually, nudging Aubrey with her elbow. “Need to ask Azzi something real quick.”

Aubrey gave her a long, drawn-out “Oooooohhh,” before relenting. “Don’t be late before gramps gets mad lover girl.”

“Bye Aubrey,” Paige deadpanned, and Aubrey finally peeled away, the rest of the group filing down the hall.

Once they were gone and the hallway had quieted to a soft murmur, Paige turned to Azzi, her expression gentler now, stripped of the pressure of onlookers.

“So…” Paige began, shifting her weight from one foot to the other. “I was thinking. About tonight.”

Azzi blinked. “Tonight?”

“For studying,” Paige clarified quickly, though her voice carried a quiet edge of something more. “You said every day, remember? Might as well start tonight.”

Azzi nodded, brushing a strand of hair behind her ear. “Right, yeah. That makes sense. Want to meet at the library ?”

Paige gave a crooked smile and shook her head. “Actually, I was thinking… my place. No one there, fewer distractions. We’ll probably get more done.”

Azzi hesitated. “You sure ?”

“Yea.” Paige’s voice was certain, but her gaze flicked away for a second before returning to meet Azzi’s. “It’s not a big deal. I’ll text you the deets.”

Azzi took a breath, then nodded. “Okay. Sounds good.”

Paige’s smile softened, the edges of her eyes crinkling just slightly. “Cool. I’ll, uh… try to clean up a little after I finish up my schedule for the day after film and weights.”

Azzi laughed, a quiet sound that seemed to catch even her off guard. “No need. I’m not judging you.”

Paige raised an eyebrow, her grin turning a bit smug. “You say that now. Just wait until you see the mountain of laundry on my desk.”

Azzi smiled, the tension between them easing just a bit. There was still something noticeable there but for now, it settled into something easier.

“I’ll bring some snacks,” Azzi offered. “And flashcards. I have a few from the last class.”

Paige gave her a grateful look. “You’re really out here being my academic guardian angel, huh ?”

Azzi rolled her eyes with a smile. “You’re lucky I like helping people.”

Paige didn’t respond to that and just watched her for a moment too long before finally stepping back. “Alright. I should go before everyone starts texting me passive-aggressively from film and Geno gets pissed at me.”

Azzi nodded, feeling the faint urge to stall, to say something more. But instead, she let the moment settle, let it be quiet and soft and enough.

“See you tonight, Az” Paige said, turning to go.

Azzi watched her walk down the hall, tall and sure in that way she had always seemed to be. But as she glanced back once before turning the corner, there was something else in her face. Something that told Azzi she wasn’t as composed as she seemed.

And then she was gone.

Azzi stood there for a beat longer, then finally turned toward the opposite direction, heading back toward her own dorm.

Her chest still carried the echo of that photo. Of Paige’s sleepy weight against her body. Of the quiet flutter when Paige said you make it easier.

She exhaled slowly.

Tonight. Paiges place.

—------------------------------------

Azzi unlocked the door to her dorm with a soft click, stepping inside and pulling off her shoes as she glanced down the narrow hallway toward the small cluster of packages by her desk. Her heart gave a tiny, unexplainable skip when she saw one of the boxes.

“Oh,” she murmured, already moving toward it.

She knelt and peeled it open carefully, a grin tugging at the corners of her mouth as soon as the pastel pink casing appeared through the packing paper. The Polaroid camera.

She pulled it out reverently, holding it in both hands like something precious. The plastic was smooth, the color even prettier in person than it looked online and was also matching the colour of her sweatshirt. Lightweight, but solid in her hands. She instinctively brought it up to eye level, pretending to snap a shot, already imagining how the photos would look printed and warm and instant.

Azzi sat back on her heels and smiled to herself, imagining the little stack of blank film waiting to be filled. Her mind wandered—first to the small plant on her windowsill, then maybe the way the afternoon light hit the library steps, photos of her and her friends going for an outing. A whole mental list was already forming—shots she could take, quiet memories she could freeze in time.

And then, before she could help it, another thought crept in.

Paige.

She imagined Paige sitting at her desk tonight, brow furrowed, pencil tapping against her notebook while she squinted at some econ problem. Maybe her wearing a hoodie that would probably be half off one shoulder, hair up in a messy bun or maybe still damp from a post-prac shower. Azzi imagined the soft lighting of the desk lamp hitting her face, Paige muttering to herself, frustrated but trying. Still trying.

It would be the perfect moment for a picture.

Not posed, not planned, just real.

Azzi’s cheeks warmed up instantly.

“Nope,” she muttered under her breath, standing up a little too fast. She placed the camera gently on the desk and turned away like that would somehow banish the idea.

But it didn’t.

The image stuck. Paige, caught mid-thought. Paige, rolling her eyes at some dumb joke. Paige, looking up at her after finally getting an answer right, proud and bright.

Azzi covered her face with her hands, half laughing, half horrified at herself.

“What is wrong with me,” she mumbled.

She peeked through her fingers at the camera, still sitting untouched on the edge of her desk. After a long beat, she reached out, ran a thumb over the smooth shutter button, and bit her lip.

Maybe she would bring it tonight to Paige's dorm.

Just in case.

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

#paige bueckers #azzi fudd #paige x azzi #pazzi #pazzi fics #uconn #uconn wbb #uconn huskies #uconn women’s basketball #dallas wings #wnba basketball #wnba #ncaa wbb #wbb

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returnofeternity · 2 months ago

Note

the new pic of nat’s mugshot … i saw it like an hour ago and im still thinking about being her gf in prison … or even just her gf waiting for her to get out ugh natalie 💔

giggling... thinking of waiting for her at home, wondering where the hell she is and what's taking her so long. you end up falling asleep because it's nearly 3am now, and you wake up to the prison calling you?? you find out she was arrested for possession of marijuana or some shit, and needs someone to bail her out, but you're broke </3

thinking about living with her in some trashy motel at this point, you have a shitty job that barely pays for groceries, let alone living here, but you like it here with her. it's nice coming home from a shitty shift and smoking with her, walking to some little shop and eating dinner together <3 walks back to the motel, asking if she's still considering going to jeff and shauna's wedding... telling her you'd reallyyy like to see her all dressed up and that it's been a while since you've all seen shauna anyway..

but anyway back to being her prison gf.. since you can't bail her out right this second, you visit her. you're already up and putting your shoes on the second the prison calls you and tells you that they have nat, and she's like a beaten puppy when you show up 😭 her ass was allll smug with the officers and shit while getting cuffed and her mugshot done, but the second you walk in there, she's silent. nat asking, "are you mad at me 🥺" when you cross your arms and call her an idiot (lovingly). mainly scolding her for not hiding her weed well and mumbling that you wanted to smoke some with her when she got home -___- but ofc you're also concerned !! telling her how worried you were back at home and how you thought she was dead somewhere :( this especially bc we know of her addictions post rescue ☹️ ur always worried about her. kissing her through the bars, telling her you'll be here first thing in the morning tomorrow to see her.

maybe hitting up taissa for money help because she was basically the only one helping nat post rescue... thinking of nat somehow smuggling the weed back and all of you smoke it in tai's car after she bails natalie out 😭

but if nat was just in custody or wtv, and you have to wait for her release, it's torture. it feels like hours in that waiting room, your ass getting sore on that uncomfortable chair as you look up expectantly every time the door opens, but it's never nat 😞 having her leather jacket in your hand because it's nighttime and it's cold, rubbing it with your thumb for comfort. your heart stopping when she enters the room, getting uncuffed and released.. you almost thought you'd never see her again. you're being dramatic, you know, but god, it was scary getting that phone call.

immediately bringing her in for a hug that lasts minutes before she mumbles if you can just go home, mainly bc she just wants to get out of here and because the officers are staring.. putting her jacket on her and holding her hand back to the car, asking if she wants to stop by the liquor store for some snacks. you guys just end up going home and you ask her to explain how she even got arrested in the first place, and she just shrugs and says it was stoopid, and that she's just glad she's back with you.

#anon #natalie scatorccio thoughts 💭#natalie scatorccio x reader

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81pastrys · 3 months ago

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Hi it's me again (the smut requester 😭 is that my name now? ) anyway I'm so happy u love my requests here's another one bc I'm a whore for dom Lando (guilty af 😔) reader decides she wants a turn to be in control once but Lando refuses to let her bc he's a control freak (that one interview with Tom Daley iykyk 😉) and so she decides to take matters into her own hands where she secretly stashes a pair of handcuffs on the side table and tells him to close his eyes cuz she's got a surprise and he does, thinking it's lingerie or smth, and she quickly handcuffs him to the bed to have her way with him and he's trying to get out of the handcuffs and telling her she's gonna get absolutely fucked over when she releases him and she's just having sm fun finally being able to tease him but then once she does take off the handcuffs he decides to prove his point that he's always in control (in the bedroom ofc) love ur work and ur one of my fav authors honestly 🫶🫶

Domineer

Summary— She sneaks handcuffs on Lando and he reminds her he’s in charge and not the other way around

Warnings— SMUT ; handcuffs ; handjob ; blowjob ; rough sex ; overstimulation ; dom!Lando ; sub!Lando ish ; sub!reader ; dom!reader ish

A/N— YES. sorry intrusive thought. Add an emoji so I know it’s you on your requests!!

Lando One Shots

Lando always took control in the bedroom, he made sure she knew that. He didn’t like to even think of doing what he does to her being done to him. He knew he was a menace in bed, edging or overstimulating her until she tapped out.

She mentioned taking control once, not even tying him up and he disagreed so quickly. She pouted the rest of the day and week for that matter, even if he tried to make it up to her.

So, she took matters into her own hands, ordering a pair of sturdy bedroom handcuffs accented with fluffy covers that were bubblegum pink and hiding them on the bed poles. She made sure that they stayed in place and when he returned from work she was excited to test them out on him.

“Baby I have a surprise!” She said to him after their normal greetings when he got home. He smiled cheekily, thinking she had gotten lingerie or a new toy he could torture her with here and there. She had done that before and he knew how excited she would get to show him.

The plan went perfectly, he undressed himself and laid on the bed right where she wanted him. She went off to the bathroom and shut the door, she did buy new lingerie just because, telling him to close his eyes before she walked out. “Whatever you want babe.” He laughed.

She peeked and saw his eyes shut, tip toeing her way over to him and quickly catching his wrist to cuff it. His eyes shot open and he huffed an angry breath at her. She giggled and got on the bed straddling him, forgetting one hand was still free of a handcuff.

He immediately reached down and played with her wet cunt making her moan. “Undo the cuff babe.” He said, knowing she was easily influenced while being pleasured. She was grinding on his hand while moaning out a no. “You’re going to hate me once you let me go.” He grumbled. She took his hand away and cuffed it to the opposite side.

“Hmm we’ll see.” She said, gaining her composure back. She got to work on teasing him and he pulled roughly at the handcuffs, hoping they’d break. She went slow, making the pleasure last longer than he wanted.

“Babe, take the handcuffs off.” He said, his voice wavering from how she was grabbing him. “Fuck- babe, I swear.” He groaned. She ignored him and pumped her hand up and down innocently. She looked to him with the innocent eyes and he gave her an angry stare back.

She smiled and then took it a step further by taking him in her mouth, his hips bucking to resemble some sort of upper hand. Her throat tightening and causing him to moan out. She always gave him good head, but this was different. He couldn’t just stop her whenever, his hands were cuffed.

“I’m close, babe, do you want me to cum in that pretty mouth?” He teased. He never finished in her mouth, it was a gentleman thing. He never wanted her to swallow it, he always wanted it inside her otherwise. When she didn’t stop her movements of licking and sucking, he groaned that he was kidding.

“No, cum in my mouth.” She protested. She worked him more to the brink and he couldn’t hold back, his hips twitching for a release and he gave them one. His load spurting into her warm mouth. She moaned and choked on the heavy amount of cum he produced. She pulled back, a hand firmly squeezing him still and looking him in the eyes while swallowing.

“Fuck that was hot.” He panted, wincing at the overstimulation of his cock still being held firmly. He could feel his heartbeat through it and so could she. “Alright now take the handcuffs off.” He said. She pouted and shook her head.

“But I’m having fun.” She said. She kissed him and his face contorted into disgust at the taste of himself. “You taste amazing baby.” She teased. “You should cum in my mouth more often no?” He bucked his hips, her hand no longer squeezing him. She lined him up with her and he gave her an angry look again.

“Babe, I’m warning you.” He said. She giggled at his words and slowly sank down onto his length. She felt the stretch, no foreplay meant more of a stretch when he thrusted his hips. She sat on him for a minute before deciding what she was going to do. “I’ll take care of you if you let me go.” He taunted.

She wasn’t listening, her walls reacting to the intrusion. He rested on her g-spot and he twitched making her moan. “Stop, lan.” She demanded. He knew he was getting to her head. He continued to slowly rock his hips and make her crumble. She knew she lost, she lost when she first handcuffed him.

“Take the handcuffs off now.” He demanded. “I’m gonna make sure you can’t walk tomorrow.” He added. She moaned as his hips never stopped moving. She reached to the bedside table and took the key out. “That’s my good girl.” He smiled now. She unlocked one and he grabbed the key to unlock the other. He flipped her with mach speed and she moaned.

“I want to do that again.” She said. He didn’t respond, slowly rocking in and out of her. Her moans spilled freely. He sped up his pace, his hands bruising her hips as he held her down. “Close-“ She choked on her own words. The silence was killing her. She arched her back and clawed at his toned body when she came. Her vision blurring and her ears ringing. Her insides holding him tightly.

“That’s it, all for me babe.” He cooed. He reached to the bedside table and she groaned in protest. “I said you wouldn’t be able to walk.” He laughed, grabbing the vibrator wand to place on her clit. The overstimulation taking over her body. She squirmed around while he didn’t move, she was just filled with him and had her clit stimulated to the max.

She came again and he decided to move again, slowly, but torturously. “Too much.” She whined. They had a safe word if it got far enough, but she refused to use it. He ended up handcuffing her to the bed. Her hands holding the cuff chains for stability as he absolutely wrecked her body.

She came 2 more times on him before he finished inside her, he walls twitching from the feeling and he body arching so much it hurt. Her eyes filled with tears and whines spilling from her. “Never try to handcuff me again.” He whispered. He pulled out slowly with a pop and she shuddered, the emptiness grounding her back to reality.

She repeated pleas and agreed not to do it again. He cleaned her up and took the handcuffs off, the red marks prominent on both of their wrists. Her legs shaking uncontrollably as she rubbed her wrists.

“Maybe we can use these again.” He teased, putting them away along with everything else.

UM HELLO?!

@il0vereadingstuff @angelluv16 @pandabiiissh @kallanfiona @itznotsophia

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sierrale8ne · 5 months ago

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nsfw // big freak shit alert! jealous!p, bratty!venus, strap sucking, strap-on sex, spitting, degradation, ass play, toxic!p comes out to play a lil bit, time jump (summer 2025, all-star break)

🏷️ @thaatdigitaldiary @rosemariiaa @xxloveralways14 @pboogerswbb @tndaqlifwy @wbbgetsmewetter @ohbueckers @d3arapril @lovegalor333 @lupinqs @makethemhoesmad @cherryswisherz @bueckersbitch

The feeling of a vacation never really got old for Venus and Paige. The worked nearly year round. Especially this year, it’s been a year since Paige has gotten a break seeing as the end of her college season transitioned seamlessly into her professional season.

As for Venus, she was lucky that the Patriots were, if not the worst, one of the worst teams in the NFL. Meaning that all the media work she was needed for ended in December. But with Paige getting drafted to Dallas, and the Cowboys coincidentally having a vacancy in her position, the second Venus touched down in Dallas meant she was back to work.

So you could assume this break, even if short, was much much needed.

Their cruise vacation had become a bit of a tradition. Once every summer, they found themselves on their adult only cruise indulging in a five days of drinking, relaxation, and sex. How could one forget about the sex.

It was always a great time, but now? Venus would rather be anywhere but this damn ship.

They went down to the deck together, music and a few cocktails enveloping the two in their own little world. Then Paige wanted another drink, so she left for the bar, insisting that Venus sit pretty for her until she got back.

What the tattooed girl didn’t expect was for Paige to be enveloped in conversation with another woman at the bar

It’s all Paige’s fault. Her pro contract came with more deals, more money, and more eyes. More eyes from women who couldn’t seem to get enough of the blonde. The fact that she looked as sexy as possible in her light washed jorts and sleeveless graphic shirt, the blonde of her hair flowing in the caribbean breeze, didn’t fucking help.

She saw red. The way the woman smiled in her face and bit her lip, every few minutes reaching over to touch her girlfriend’s arm. The way she laughed at every little thing Paige said, which was even more aggravating because the blonde was not that fucking funny—

“You come by yourself?”

The voice echos in Venus’s ear, making her turn around slightly to see who’s speaking to her. The older woman is tall, nowhere near as tall as Paige, but tall enough that her head tilts up to see her. Her hair was dark and short and shaggy, just barely falling over her shoulders.

“I’m sorry?”

“I said, are you by yourself?” The woman repeats, leaning downward to project into her ear.

Venus knew better. She knew that if Paige were to turn around, even just for a second, and get a glimpse of her and this woman, she might actually blow a vein. Which made it all the more exciting.

“More like left alone.” Venus responds, very tentatively pushing back her hair over her shoulder. The trail of jewelry cuffed on her ear being put on display.

The woman looks almost astonished. “And who would leave your pretty self all alone?”

That woman in question sat at the bar. Still, waiting for what felt like years for her dirty shirley and Venus’s lemon drop. Her feet were propped up against the ledge of the stool, feet bouncing as she heard the blonde beside her speak flirtatiously to her.

Paige thought she was doing great at keeping the flirting to a minimum. She moved her arm back every few seconds and made sure to break her eye contact before the woman got the wrong idea.

It was when she took a quick peak— just over her shoulder, to make sure her girlfriend was safe where she left her— that she saw it. Venus’s hand on another woman’s shoulder.

She couldn’t fight the smirk on her face, no chance her girlfriend was blatantly flirting with someone else right in front of her.

Normally, while looking at her girlfriend, she would be nearly falling to her knees. Venus was laced in sex appeal, and the outfit she wore right now only enhanced it. The set was black lace, the lack of fabric intentional due to the Caribbean summer heat. The material was thick enough to keep everything held in place, but thin enough to give Paige and whoever else they’d come across a show of every curve and valley of Venus’s body.

But now? She was livid, watching her smile and toss her head back with laughter. How she kept leaning in to whisper in the woman’s ear. Every move was purposeful, like she knew that Paige was watching. Which she was.

Her eyes dart to the bartender, who was passing off that lemon drop she ordered. An idea flashed across Paige’s face as she grasped the plastic cup in her hand.

“You like lemon drops?”

Yeah, two could play at that game.

It was obvious that Paige was now trying to piss her off, that she was lengthening whatever stupid fucking conversation she was having to get on every one of her nerves. Venus was always one step ahead of her, however.

She thought Paige had lost her mind. That there had to be some otherworldly force responsible for her actions, because Paige buying someone else a drink in front of her own eyes was diabolical. Unthinkable even.

So when the woman, who she had now known as Maia, reached for her hand and asked her to dance, she took one glance at her girlfriend and when she saw Paige hand her drink to another woman, she said yes.

Venus dragged Maia across the dance floor, purposefully finding a spot right in front of the bar where, if turned around, Paige would see with her own two eyes what she was up to.

It was a brilliant idea in her own head, one that would serve as the most perfect payback.

Lover/Friend by KAYTRANADA echoes through the speakers, string and strobe lights decorating the deck. Venus is determined. She presses her ass against her, slowly moving to the music.

She loses herself in the music pretty quickly, hips swaying and eyes closing. Maia attempts to keep up, and all Venus can think about is how badly this should be her and Paige right now. How it should be the blonde behind her, gripping her hips and whispering in her ear about how badly she wanted to take her back to their room.

It’s partially the reason why she starts acting out, grinding her hips in a way that makes Maia let out a low whistle into her ear.

They dance through the rest of the song while the woman grips Venus’s waist, the action makes her head shoot up, smile quickly growing when she felt Paige’s eyes on her.

They were a piercing shade of blue, stuck to every inch of her body. Venus’s job was complete. She gave the blonde a smirk, before looking away, grabbing Maia’s hands from her hips to turn around.

“How about you get me a drink?” She teases, tongue darting over her bottom lip. Her eyes ever so enticing and rimmed with black.

“Yeah?” Maia asks with a bite of her lip. It takes every bone in her body to not cringe at it. “What do you want?”

“Vodka cranberry.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

She’s walking off to the bar within a matter of seconds, leaving Venus alone to dance to another song. The atmosphere was booming, enough for her to forget that her girlfriend had almost blown a blood vessel with how pissed she had grown. Venus’s phone buzzes in her purse, and she reaches in to grab it almost immediately.

Paige worked fast, because within a matter second she felt arms around her waist, nails digging into her hips with an anger that could only belong to her girlfriend.

And then she felt it.

The feeling of Paige behind her, her front pressed dangerously close to her back, and the strap that was very obviously felt underneath her jeans. Venus nearly scoffs, surprised that she didn’t notice it earlier in the evening.

“We’re leaving.” Paige mumbled into her ear, like the statement is final.

Venus hates that, of course, because she’s her own person. A certain irritation rises within her which blends terribly with the growing arousal between her legs. “But I’m having so much fun. I thought you were too.” She pouts teasingly.

“Venus.” Paige draws her hands back, slighting pushing her girlfriend forward with a hand to the small of her back. “I’m going to our room. You got five minutes to get up there, or i’m fucking you up.”

It took Venus seven minutes.

Which was an absolute no go.

Paige was on her the second the door swung open, gripping her hips and pushing her onto the bed as she avoided meeting their lips. In her mind, Venus didn’t deserve a damn kiss. Not after tonight.

She tugged of her shirt with a vigor, a rip tearing its way through the very center to reveal her bare chest. It wasn’t a surprise that she went braless, If anything Paige should’ve expected it from her.

Venus shot up, her face visibly reddening in a mix of annoyance and disbelief. “Paige!”

“Shut up.” The blonde grunts, reaching for one of the many hair ties on her wrist to pull back her hair. “Ion wanna hear shit from you, just shut up.”

Surprisingly, Venus listened, the tiniest huff escaping her lips. Paige shot her a look before shaking her head. It was hard to decipher what that was about. Maybe she was still heated, or it was the image of her dancing on another woman, or maybe it was that even through it all, Paige thought she was the sexiest woman in the world.

Probably the latter.

Paige was almost immediately reaching under her skirt for her panties, kissing her teeth at just how soaked they were.

“You wanna tell me who you’re this wet for?”

“I thought I was supposed to shut up.”

Paige nods, almost as if Venus got her on that one thing. Her hand pressing closer to the woman’s wet cunt, feeling up her clit through the material of the lace. Venus sucks in a sharp gasp, trying to keep quiet as instructed but also push at that button on Paige’s nerves just a bit more.

Her fingers travel slowly, dipping under her underwear and running through her folds. Paige is barely tactful about it, she doesn’t care about getting Venus off and that’s obvious by the look in her eye. She just wants to make a point. To prove that it’s always going to be her.

“P—ah!” Venus yelps when Paige’s finally pushing them in, rough and fast. Her fingers curl almost instantly, the squelch of her cunt echoing off the walls. She was dripping like a faucet, arousal trailing down Paige’s long fingers.

But it only lasts so long, because Paige pulls them back out. Looking intently at the glisten of her fingers.

“Maia would’ve fucked me by now.” Venus shrugs, effectively putting the nail the coffin.

Paige freezes and a smirk travels to her lips. “You said what?” She asks with dark eyes.

“You heard me.”

That alone is enough for Paige to bring her clean hand to her shorts, licking the other clean before unbuttoning them. “On your knees, V. C’mon.” She instructs.

Venus does as told. Her ass slips down the edge of their bed, she sinks to her knees before her.

She thinks about how good Paige looks like this, jeans undone and boxers on display. Her hair in a messy bun, the pink of her lips, the column of her neck.

She stares at the center of Paige’s boxers, right where the pink of the silicone dildo sits comfortably. Venus grips at the waistband of the jeans, tugging them down her tanned legs, the muscle of her thighs flexing as she steps out of the clothing.

“Get it nice and wet, ma.” Paige bites her lip. Her girlfriend looked like a slut, in every aspect of the word. Venus’s eyes blown wide, slightly watery. Her pierced nipples on display, the blondes’s name sitting nicely above her collarbone in a small cursive.

She grips the strap in her hand, her spit shooting out over the tip. The action nearly makes Paige forget she’s supposed to be mad at her.

Venus’s lips press against the side of it, tongue lolling out of her mouth and back and forth against the shaft. When she finally does take the strap in her mouth, the moan that Paige gives her is almost pleasureful enough.

The silicone stretches Venus’s mouth wide, almost too wide. All seven inches slide down her throat, muffled gags drowning out Paige’s groans. The blonde swore she could feel it, feel the warmth of her tongue and the sucking of her mouth.

“So messy, baby.” Paige hums, “gag on it, jus’ like that.” Her large hand sinks into Venus’s braids, the other cupping her chin to angle her the way she pleased. Then she starts moving her hips.

Angry sex isn’t common between the two, which is odd considering the fact that they argue over the dumbest things every single day. But in Paige’s mind, even if she technically started it, Venus took it too far. So far that Paige wanted nothing more than to fuck her stupid. To make her jaw ache from how rough she would fuck her face, make her legs feel like jelly, make tears fall from her eyes and down her cheeks and apologies spew from her lips while Paige fucked her until she tapped out.

So, the athlete held Venus still while she drew her hips back and forth. Saliva pooled at the corners of her mouth as she attempted to breathe, Paige still kept going.

The tip of the strap hit the back of her throat, making Venus dig her nails into Paige’s thighs.

“Aww you can’t take it? Huh?” She tugs Venus’s hair harder, forcing her head back further to push more of her strap into her mouth. Paige can’t even remember the last time she had her like this— on her knees and breaking apart every ounce of faux dominance into submission. “Y’know I hate bein’ mean to you, baby. But I gotta make sure you learn, yeah?”

Venus pushes at her abdomen in search for air, but Paige pushes it away. Her nose nestled against her girlfriend’s pelvis, nearly every inch of her forced into Venus’s mouth.

Paige finally lets her go, feeling just a tad bit bad about nearly suffocating her girlfriend like that. “Fuck— P.” She murmurs between ragged breaths, a cough or two escaping her chest.

“You gonna be good for me?” Paige asks, bringing Venus to her feet by the arm.

No. Say no.

“Yes, baby.” She breathes, mascara flaking under her eyes. “Promise.”

“Good.” Paige mumbles. It takes everything in her to hold out crashing her lips on hers, especially when they’re all wet and plump, but she’s holds on. “Bend over this bed, I been wantin’ you since I saw this fucking skirt.”

Venus turns around, the material of her skirt still clinging to her hips. She bends over the edge, immediately going on her toes as she arches her back in the way the blonde likes.

“Look at that perfect ass.” Paige says in almost disbelief, “all mine and you wanna grind it on some other bitch.” She sends a harsh slap to it watching the fat giggle in response.

“Paige, fu—ck, please. Fuck me, please.” Venus moans. She wants to push back, to fuck herself on her girlfriends cock like a slut and get what she so badly wanted— not so much deserved, seeing as that was why Paige was so mad at her in the first place.

The athlete grips her ass in her hands, putting Venus’s cunt on display, the wetness the drips through her folds, past her clit, and onto the edge of the bed. “Yeahhhhh, keep begging. Lemme hear it.”

“Please, P.”

“Again.”

“‘M sorry, baby. Please plea—”

Her pleading it cut off by the distracting nature of Paige’s thumb against her ass. The way she circled it and darted from the arousal of her pussy back to her puckered asshole. She was enthralled by it, allowing her spit to fall onto it.

“Nah don’t stop for me. Tell me what you need. Whatchu need so damn bad that you wanted to piss me off like that, ma?” Her voice is cold, deep and raspy in a way that she hasn’t heard in forever.

“Need you inside. Please please, Paige I—fuck please?” Venus begs, silently hoping it’s enough for her to do something other than tease her until she almost cried.

Paige shakes her head from behind, griping the wet strap by the base. She pushes the pink silicone inside fast, the mix of saliva and arousal making the fight nonexistent.

Venus takes it all with ease, a loud pornographic moan escaping her. “Fuck! M’ my God, P.” She cries, fingers immediately gripping at the sheets.

“She just takes it all, huh?” Her thumb followed, breaking inside, all while continuing the motion of her hips. “Fucking slut, you’re a fucking slut, y’know that, V? Actin’ up like I haven’t been fucking you every damn day we’ve been here.”

It was like with each passing second the blonde was getting even more heated, the memory of her girlfriend with another woman turning her almost animalistic.

Venus is falling apart too, every inch hitting her g-spot over and over and over as Paige had learned how to ages ago. And each time she seemed to just get better at it. “Baby! You’re— fuckin’ deep. So deep, shit.”

Her arms stretched in front of her fisting the sheets when Paige bunches up her skirt, pounding into Venus at a speed that could only be attributed to her athleticism and stamina.

Paige looked down to see how she completely covered the silicone in her arousal, the sound of Venus’s ass against her thighs, loud and heavy.

“Had her thinkin’ she would ever get to see you like this. You fuckin’ crazy?” Her statements are almost drowned out by the moans of her girlfriend.

“I’m-I’m cumming, gonna cum! P, please.” Venus whines, reaching back to grip at the hem of Paige’s shirt. “Wanna cum, oh my God!”

“Hold that shit, V. I don’t care.”

Paige is quick to throw her hand off, drawing her hips back and forth, pounding Venus’s fucking life away. She tugs up her shirt, the lust clouding her better judgment that would tell her to throw her shirt off and instead she just tucks it under her chin. She curls her thumb deeper, matching that movement with the thrusts of her strap.

“I’m sorry, I promise!”

“Yeah, I know you’re sorry now, but you weren’t sorry earlier, huh? Tryna give my pussy away, it’s like that?” Paige’s breath is heavy, a mixture of the sex and the alcohol that rushes through her veins. “Shit, this pussy, baby.”

With that, the blonde was pulling out and flipping her over. Venus’s legs fell open almost instantly, a testimony to how fucking badly she needed her again. She was greedy, desperately so. Paige was right, she’d turned her out every single day they’ve been on the cruise but for whatever reason, she wanted more right now.

Her arms wrapped around Paige’s neck as she slid back in, hovering over her.

“You better fucking kiss me.” Venus moans softly, her eyes rolling at the new position.

Paige’s long fingers circled around Venus’s throat, adding to her pleasure as she slightly picked up the pace of her hips. "Take all this shit, you deserve all this dick, mama. Swear." She egged her on as she powerfully fucked her into the bed.

“I can’t!”

“Yeah you can, can take all of it, baby.” She coos, “you think she could’ve fucked you better than me?”

Venus’s eyes snap open, she reaches for anything in her grasp, deciding that the collar of Paige’s shirt would keep her grounded. “No, no, baby.”

“She would’ve made you cum as hard as I’m about to? Ion think so, ma.”

After what felt like decades, Paige finally kissed her with passion, her tongue inside Venus’s mouth as she squeezed at her neck causing her to cum almost on the spot. The kiss silenced the sounds of her cries. Venus scratched at her back through that damned t-shirt.

Her cum coating the pink silicone in a milky white, sticky against not only her own thighs but Paige’s as well.

"Fucking shit." Paige hissed out. "V, fuck." She warned, almost weary. Beads of sweat adorned her forehead, and it was like the second Venus’s high washed over she was forgetting about the source of the argument in the first place.

The athlete’s chest heaved up and down and her mouth was left wide open while she breathed heavily and hotly into Venus’s ear.

“P—”

“—You fucking piss me off, man.” Paige groans flopping down against Venus’s chest. The tattooed girl chuckled, a low and tired one that vibrates again Paige’s head. “Dancing on her is crazy.”

“You gave that blonde headed bitch my drink! Hell, you started it.” Venus heaves, “don’t be mad ‘cause you can’t finish what you started.”

“Shut up!” Paige kisses at her chest, greeting the faded marks from the other nights they’ve been on the cruise. “I fucked you till you cried, I think I finished it.”

“You shut u—”

Venus is cut off with a kiss, a soft one though, much different than the manner Paige just fucked her with. Paige sucks on her tongue drawing all of Venus’s moans into her own mouth. “I love you, okay? And I’m sorry for starting shit. Happy?”

“I guess.”

“Say it back then.”

“I love you too. Dickhead.”

#sierrale8ne #kalena’s works ୧ ‧₊˚ 🍵 ⋅#paige bueckers #paige bueckers smut #paige bueckers x oc #uconn wbb #lesbian #wlw smut #oneshots ✧˖°ʚ🍓ɞ♡#power trip

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yasministration · 6 months ago

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Omg I saw your post and I love it!! What about like lestrange!reader that’s absolutely nothing like her parents and now that they escaped Azkaban she’s not just worried for her but for her boyfriend(you can insert any guy here) and she suggests for them to break up and he just immediately refuses!! Basically just fluff

In this together - George Weasley

based on this post - i LOVE how this request came in instantly i was so happy writing this!! summary: when you find out that your mother, Bellatrix Lestrange has escaped Azkaban, you have a crisis, thankfully short lived due to your boyfriend's care for the situation cw: flinching away from parent but idk if that's a mention of abuse. wc: 1k+

The blood drained from your face as you stared at the newspaper, your mother’s horrific laugh ringing in your ears despite the eery silence of the moving image in front of you. Your tea went cold, steam evaporating into the Great Hall’s frigid atmosphere. Everyone’s energy was low, accusatory stares aimed towards you despite your fearful nature at the discover of your parents’ escape from Azkaban. Dropping the newspaper on the table, you stared straight ahead, noticing how several students instantly averted their gaze from you through your peripheral vision. Escaping the hungry stares of the students in the Great Hall, you were ignorant to one pair of eyes worriedly observing your retreating figure.

You remember your last visit to Azkaban, a mandatory yearly visit, added into your mother’s plea deal. Whilst your father had gone down easily, pleading guilty to all his crimes, Bellatrix had demanded you visit her once a year in order for her to take the plea. Of course, as a baby you had no one to defend your word, and the condition of your visits immediately became inked into the plea agreement. You had sat across from your mother, head bowed down in submission, grateful that you’d become a legal adult in just a couple of months, and you’d never have to visit her again. Bellatrix had tried reaching out to you, touching your face, but she’d immediately been pulled back by magical forces. Forces which almost blinded her from the way you flinched away from her, losing balance on the small visitor’s stool you sat on.

Bellatrix had scowled, fury engulfing her body at the sight of her own daughter violently jerking away from in fear. In the midst of her anger, she had stood up, slamming her cuffed hands down on the table in a flurry of metal clanging and high pitched ringing. She screamed until her face turned red, causing aurors to pull her away while another ushered you out of the institution. Now, you feared for what she might do to you now that she was free. Her obsession with your life had allowed her to discover information about you whilst locked in the prison, further alarming you every time she revealed a layer of knowledge she knew about you.

A loud call of your name across the hallway had you sharply spinning around in front of the large snake statue adorning the entrance to the slytherin common room. Your shoulders slumped in relief at the sight of George running towards you, his fiery hair blowing away from his face as he hurried to reach you. The furrow in your eyebrows didn't relent, worry still engulfing your body. When George reached you, he didn't hesitate to tug your body into his in a warm hug. You held your boyfriend close to you, shutting your eyes tightly. “Hey.” He spoke up, pressing a kiss on your forehead. “Do you want to skip Hogsmeade this week? Spend some time here instead?” You nodded silently, feeling the tremor in your hand at the shock of the situation, shutting and opening your mouth, painfully aware of the way George was analysing your face.

“What is it?” He asked, watching as you formed the words in your head, eyes scanning the room. “George. We’re not, it’s not safe for us. I don’t know what she’ll do to me, but she’ll kill you if she finds out.” It was George’s turn to furrow his eyebrows, trying to make sense of your sentences as he pulled away from you, holding your shoulders at arm’s length. “You being in a relationship with me isn’t safe as long as she’s out of Azkaban.” You clarified, giving him a pointed look despite the unwanted tears building up in your eyes. “Sweetheart,” George smiled in spite of the situation, leaning his head down so he was levelled with you. “Lovely, if you’re trying to break up with me it’s not going to work.” A single teardrop rolled down your cheek at the gravity of the situation and you sniffled, wiping a hand across your cheek to wipe the wetness away.

“Oh, darling.” George mumbled, bringing you back into the hug, pressing his lips against your forehead without kissing you. “We’re in this together, yeah?” He whispered against your skin. When you didn’t nod, he pulled away from you slightly, though he kept you in his arms, repeating his words. “We’re in this together, okay?” You nodded, replying with a shaky “Okay” which left him satisfied. After a while of keeping you in his arms, you finally spoke up again. “I don’t want her to hurt you.” George brushed strands of hair away from your eyes, pressing fluttering kisses all over your face, his hands cupping your cheeks to keep you in place. You huffed, a smile finally making its way onto your face after he set another dozen kisses on your cheeks and forehead. You giggled, hands coming up to push your boyfriend’s face away from yours, but he tucked his face into the crook of your neck instead, pressing kisses there.

“If she tries to hurt either of us I assure you my mum will be stood there with a slipper in each hand.” You scoffed in amusement, laughing loudly when he added “Deadly weapons these.”

George fully pulled away from you, snaking a hand into yours and intertwining your fingers, muttering the password for the slytherin common room. The passageway opened, and you strolled into the common room, leading George up the stairs towards your dorm, listening as he said. “Anyway, you’re safe at Hogwarts for now, and then you’ll be with the whole family during the Christmas break anyway.” Your eyebrows shot up, and you glanced towards George, humming as you asked “Am I?” George stopped in his tracks, looking at you suspiciously. “What you think you can come spend the summer with us and then never come home again? Mum would throw a fit. She said we can even share the bed this time, so you know she really likes you.“

#rainydayathogwarts #harry potter #hogwarts #gryffindor #slytherin!reader #harry potter angst #harry potter fluff #george x reader #george weasley smut #george weasley imagine #george weasley fanfiction #george weasley #george weasley x reader #george weasley x you #george weasley x y/n #the weasleys #lestrange!reader #rainydayathogwarts inbox

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maryannecrimsworth · 7 months ago

Text

A wolf, a witch, a lover

Pairing: Mel Medarda x Winged! Reader

Warnings: mentions of violence; i got carried away with this one; seriously, I made a whole plot for this; i can make fluff headcanons later if you guys like it

Summary: As the new wolf of Noxus, Mel had to face her mother's past mistakes. You were one of them.

Part 2, Part 3

Mel Medarda had a big role to fill. After the battle was won, not only was Piltover left to be rebuilt, but Noxus had also lost its leader. Queens had fallen, and Mel was the princess next in line. With her new abilities, she had a loyal army to guide and an entire country to reign over.

Piltover was no longer her home — perhaps it never truly had been.

It didn’t take long for her to leave the continent. Jayce was gone, Caitlyn had formed a new Council, and, despite all the bloodshed, the top side and bottom side were finally united as one. Mel no longer had a purpose there; she wasn’t Piltover’s leader. Now, she had inherited her name like never before, ready to replace her mother.

However, there were more secrets than she could have imagined—not only about her birth and father but also the hidden, dirty truths lurking in every corner of Noxus. The colonies, the wars, the cruelties committed by her mother—each new revelation showed Mel how little of the truth she truly knew.

While investigating one of her mother’s secrets, she found you—imprisoned, trapped in a cage like an animal, brutally tied up. You could barely move inside the dark, metal cell. "War prisoners," Mel had been told. Ambessa had killed some of her enemies' leaders, but others she had kept here—for information, leverage, and interrogation. Even though your war was long over, you remained in this dark, cold prison.

Mel didn’t know how long you had been there, but one thing stood out: while the other prisoners were fed and minimally cared for—still caged, of course—you were different. You were cuffed, beaten, and chained far more cruelly than the rest. You were repressed, scared, and treated as if you were more dangerous. That’s why Mel decided to free you herself.

The moment you heard someone approaching, you began to fight. You couldn’t move much—your hands, feet, and chest were bound—but you wouldn’t surrender. You hadn’t before, and you wouldn’t now. You screamed at the silhouette nearing your cell, guttural groans escaping your muzzle. You felt less than human—a cornered prey fighting for its life.

— I came to free you, — a deep, soft voice reached your ears. — Do not fight. Our war is over.

Two guards grabbed your chains and released your feet. You jumped immediately, ignoring the pain, in a desperate attempt to fly. The chains around your chest had smashed your wings for nights beyond counting, and the agony was unbearable.

When they removed the muzzle from your face, you screamed at the shadow by the cell door:

— Our war is not over! It will never be!

The guards recoiled at your outburst, preparing to silence you again.

— That’s why you killed my people. All of them! But I won’t stop fighting!

— Mrs. Medarda, we should— — one of the guards began, stepping toward you with a chain in hand.

— No! — Mel’s voice was firm and commanding. — I’m tired of this senseless violence. Let them go.

You continued to fight, ignoring her words—empty words, you thought. You’d been fooled before, when you believed Ambessa’s promise of peace between your nations. You wouldn’t be fooled twice.

As soon as you were fully unbound, your wings spread abruptly, pushing the Noxian guards back. You screamed with pain and rage, leaping toward the shadow at the entrance—the Medarda woman who had freed you.

— I won’t be fooled again! — you shouted, raising your fists to strike her. But before you could land a blow, a golden energy enveloped her like a shield, stopping you in your tracks.

Blinded by fury, you lunged again, only for the guards to seize your wings and pull you back. Feathers tore, and your fragile bones stretched painfully under the strain.

— Stop! Let them go! — Mel’s voice rang louder than your screams. — I am not my mother! They won’t be hurt anymore!

The guards obeyed, releasing you. You fell to your knees before her—the new wolf of Noxus.

— Many mistakes have been made, — Mel said softly, stepping closer, now within reach of your wings. You could attack her if you wished, but you had no strength left. — I’m here to fix them.

You looked up at her, her hand hovering gracefully in front of you. Perhaps it was the pain. Perhaps it was another fevered dream. No Medarda would offer you their hand—it couldn’t be real.

Everything went dark.

You passed out.

Your body had been overwhelmed, or so you’d been told. You were too weak to move, let alone fly. The doctor had said you shouldn’t use your wings until you were strong enough to stand unaided. For now, you needed to rest.

When you first opened your eyes, the brightness of the room blinded you. After so much time in the dark, even this gentle light felt unbearable. The doctor’s voice reached you faintly as he spoke, but you paid little attention, instead focusing on your surroundings.

The room was large, elegant—too grand for someone like you. A palace, you guessed, judging by the ornate paintings and intricate furnishings. Outside the door, you could hear the steady march of guards, their voices low and firm as they gave commands. This wasn’t the darkness of your cell, but it wasn’t freedom either.

The doctor mentioned medicine before disappearing, leaving you alone. That was your chance.

You pushed yourself to your feet despite the pain, every movement a reminder of how broken you were. Your wings trembled behind you, fragile and aching, but you refused to stay. You’d been caged for too long.

A large window on the far side of the room caught your attention. It framed the city’s skyline—a sprawling capital of stone and steel, alive with motion. But it wasn’t the view that drew you. It was the sunlight.

You froze in place, paralyzed by the warmth. You hadn’t seen the sun in years, hadn’t felt its light on your skin since Ambessa’s betrayal.

Closing your eyes, you let the heat wash over you. Even through your closed lids, the orange glow of daylight filled your vision, and for the first time in so long, you smiled. The movement hurt—your face unused to such gestures—but you smiled anyway.

— I see you recover quickly. — The voice startled you. Deep, calm, and familiar.

You turned sharply, your wings flaring in a defensive posture, ready to fight.

Mel stood in the doorway, her expression unreadable.

— I only came to— she paused, her gaze shifting upward, catching on your wings. Her eyes widened, and for a brief moment, she froze. — I didn’t realize how badly you’d been hurt.

— What do you want? — you growled, stepping forward. Your wings shifted with you, their tattered state doing little to hide your intent.

Mel didn’t flinch. Her gaze returned to your face.

— I’m Mel Medarda. The new wolf of Noxus.

You studied her, your eyes narrowing. Her clothing was regal, refined—nothing like the armor of a warrior.

— You’re a witch, — you spat, your voice laced with venom.

— And what about you? — she asked, taking a slow step closer. — What... are you?

You hesitated, your glare hardening.

— I see the wolf has done her work well, erasing us from history.

— Us?

— Karyndor. My people. You exterminated us.

Mel frowned, her voice quieter this time.

— I’ve never heard of you. My mother never—

— She never told you how she enslaved and slaughtered my people? — you shouted, your voice trembling with rage. — How is that a surprise, princess?

— It’s not. — Her response was firm, catching you off guard. — I’m not here to be attacked. I’m here to gather the truth. I can only help you if you let me.

You snorted, disbelief twisting your features.

— I’ve heard this before.

Mel’s expression didn’t waver.

— Where do your people live? Why did your war with Noxus begin?

— It’s impossible, princess. Our land no longer exists. Your mother made sure of it.

— Why?

— Because we never gave up our freedom, — you said bitterly. Your wings shivered behind you, as though echoing your words. — We never let them cut our wings, one might say. Noxus couldn’t accept that.

Silence filled the room. Mel’s gaze dropped to the floor, her thoughts clearly elsewhere.

— Will you kill me too? — you asked, your voice softer now, almost a plea.

Her eyes lifted to meet yours.

— I am the only one left, — you continued. — You should finish your mother’s work.

— I wonder why she didn’t do it herself, — Mel murmured under her breath.

Her words unsettled you, though you weren’t sure why.

— Why would she keep you alive? — she asked, more to herself than to you.

You clenched your fists, your voice breaking as memories surfaced.

— I was her trophy. The Karyndorian general, tamed and defenseless. She kept me in that cell, showed me off to soldiers. Sometimes... sometimes she would even... — You couldn’t finish. The scars on your body spoke for you.

— Will you kill me, princess? — you whispered. — It would be a mercy I never had.

Mel’s gaze softened.

— What’s your name?

You hesitated before answering.

— Y/N.

— I will not kill you, Y/N. You are free.

And with that, she turned and left.

The truth was, you didn’t know what to do. Dying felt easier than living; it was the end you had hoped for. Without your people, without your army, you were no one. All you had left were scars, weak wings, and your enemy’s palace to wander around. Among all the wolf’s surprises, this might be the greatest: her words meant something. She had changed Noxus — the guards and the servants looked at you, even spoke to you occasionally. While you recovered, the doctor visited you daily, and the staff brought you anything you requested. You even decided to test this by asking for wine. Deep down, you hoped it would be poisoned, but it tasted excellent.

From time to time, you could hear Mel’s footsteps echoing through the hallways. Always moving, always working — that woman never stopped.

She didn’t visit you again. Perhaps she hadn’t expected you to stay at her palace for so long. Honestly, neither had you. You could have flown away, but you never did. You were fascinated by her actions: you had seen prisoners walking around the palace as freely as you did, seen slaves being set free. You had seen families reunited after years, seen mercy — all because of her.

It seemed... impossible. Almost foolish. No enemy of Noxus would ever be as merciful as she was.

— May I speak to her? — you asked one of the staff as they brought your breakfast. They were startled at first but quickly nodded and left. A few minutes later, you were brought to her.

— Thank you, — you said as the servant announced your arrival, studying the immense hall you had walked into. It was vast, with maps, tables, and chairs scattered about. A meeting room for her councils, you supposed, but she stood there alone.

— Mrs. Medarda, — you greeted her. — I must say, you surprise me.

— Y/N, — her gaze locked onto yours. — I suppose I could say the same. I’m honored to see you again.

You smiled at her words. Always charming, a true politician.

— I’ve never seen a wolf with a heart, princess. — You carefully approached the table she stood beside. — You’re either that or a fox. This nation is full of them.

— I intend to change the nation you hate so much, general. Feel free to see it for yourself, if you must.

— I’m afraid I will. — You moved closer, your wings folding tightly against your back, unable to relax as her scent reached you. You glanced down at the papers she was studying — details about battles, casualties, and old enemies.

— This empire has been built on blood, — she said, and only then did you notice how her eyes traced your scars. — Too much blood. I want to rebuild it, to create a kingdom founded on choice and alliances.

— Alliances are volatile, princess. They shift with the wind; they can always turn against you.

— I prefer politeness over rigidity. I believe safety can exist without cruelty.

— I agree with you. I would rather make peace than war. — You saw the spark in her eyes as you spoke, but you knew it wouldn’t last long. — Because of that, we sought an alliance with monsters. It got my people killed.

— It shouldn’t have, — she argued firmly, her eyes locked on yours.

— I know, I know... — you whispered, looking down at the papers again. So much death reduced to mere numbers. — Just don’t mistake mercy for naivety. — With a broken voice, your wings shrank as you confessed: — That was my mistake.

You stepped away from Mel, uncertain where you were headed. A general without an army, a soldier without a cause to fight for.

— Perhaps you could help me avoid that... — her soft proposal froze you in place. — I need generals, not murderers, to train my army.

— Princess, I’ve lost everything. I failed as a soldier, I failed to protect my people. How could you trust me with your nation?

— I don’t, — she admitted, her gaze unwavering in the face of your doubts. — But I’m willing to give you a chance, if you’re willing to take it. It’s the least I can do after what my mother did to you.

You widened your eyes — once again, this was a constant effect she had on you.

You accepted.

Trust was a difficult thing for you at first. After everything you had been through, reservations and even cynicism were normal for people in your positions. There were traitors and rebels in every corner, appearing with every debt forgiven and battle ended by the princess. Empress: you remembered this title more and more every day. Until you had fully recovered, you decided to get to know the nation you had so wished to destroy. The target of your revenge was still undoubtedly a people: there were children playing in the streets and a prosperous future ahead. Untouched by the war, the civilians didn't even seem to know about their leader's atrocities. Perhaps if they did, you wouldn't be treated so cordially.

Over time, you let the children touch your scarred wings. It took a while before you had the courage to show them around town, you feared that they were still a target, but you were only targeted by curious children. Some parents were terrified when you started flying them around in your arms, but their laughter relieved any tension.

You missed it: a home, a people. It was strange that they were becoming that for you. It felt like betrayal, despite the kindness they had shown you. It felt like betrayal against the nation that raised you.

The guilt increased when you returned to your room in the palace, and lasted until the next morning when you met up with Mel. It was easy to hide at first, but the new wolf had an eye for detail. She noticed the improvement in your wings and the worsening of your eyes even with all your attempts to hide them.

--- I've heard good stories about you, general. You've already conquered the Noxus youth. --- she said casually.

--- I've played with children, empress, nothing more than that. They are the only innocents in our history.

--- They represent the future I intend to build… It's good that they trust you.

You frowned at Mel, uneasy about the next words that would come out of her mouth.

--- A legion of young people have enlisted. They're excited about Noxus' new beginning.

You flinched as her words aimed at you, your wings beginning to flutter with anticipation.

--- I want you to train them. --- Medarda stated.

The days that followed felt like walking through a battlefield, only this time the enemy was within you. Every step you took, every command you gave, was a reminder of the life you lost and the people who depended on you—and whom you failed.

Mel had given you a position, a purpose, but it felt more like a cruel jest than an honor. Training soldiers in the palace courtyard, watching them grow stronger, reminded you of the Karyndorian army you once led. Your soldiers had been fierce and proud, willing to follow you to the ends of the earth. These recruits, however, were hesitant, cautious, and unsure whether to trust their new general.

But Mel’s vision was different from her mother’s brutality. She wanted warriors, not butchers, and that meant you had to teach them discipline, not cruelty. You barked orders with the same conviction you once had, though your voice carried an edge of bitterness that was impossible to mask.

The recruits respected you, but they also feared you—your scars, your wings, your haunted eyes. And you couldn’t blame them. You feared yourself too.

Mel, as always, remained a constant presence. She watched from the balconies, observing your methods and the progress of her troops. From time to time, she would approach you after a session, offering quiet feedback or asking questions about tactics and strategy.

— You’re improving them, — she said one afternoon as you stood together overlooking the courtyard.

You didn’t respond immediately, your gaze fixed on the recruits sparring below.

— They’re young, — you muttered. — Too young for what they’ll face.

— I don’t want them to fight unless they have to, — Mel replied, her voice calm but firm.

You glanced at her, your expression skeptical.

--- You surprise me, empress. You're too good, despite it all.

She looked at you with suspicion.

--- I see you've heard stories about me too.

--- The kids talk a lot. --- You tried to soften her expression with a smile. --- I'm sorry for what your mother did to you and your brother.

Her gaze lingered on you for a long time: her eyes analyzed you cautiously, looking for something hidden in your gaze. But there was nothing hidden: you meant every word. You were sorry for her.

--- I appreciate it. --- she said at last. --- For all of it, in fact. You acted beyond all my expectations.

You laughed, relaxed, leaning over the counter while the soldiers below remained training. You could hear them shouting, celebrating and laughing.

--- I assume they weren't very high.

--- No. --- her soft tone made you turn to her. She smiled faintly, a flicker of warmth in her otherwise composed demeanor. --- Nevertheless, here you are. I can't help but wonder what made you stay. --- Her gaze wandered for a few moments, analyzing your wings behind the iron armor that covered your chest. --- You could fly to any destination, you could fight for any country. What could have made you choose the very nation that took everything away from you?

You felt your wings stir as your chest quivered. The answer came so quickly to your mind, and left your lips just as readily:

--- You did. --- you whispered in a low voice. --- I believe in you, Mrs. Medarda.

Her eyes lit up at your words, and your wings began to flutter as the rushing blood warmed your body. Sometimes it was hard for you to stay like that, so close, so focused on her. Your eyes began to analyze every detail of her face, your mind was taken by her elegant grace, you were bewitched by her: by her compassion, by her strength, by her power.

Like the breaking of a spell, you forced yourself to look away and swallow the heat that rose to your neck. You were at your limit, one second away from losing control, and so you pulled away. The last thing you wanted was to disrespect her - she was your emperor, you were her suitor. You were satisfied with that, it was enough after so many years suffering alone. With her by your side, you felt strength, warmth --- something close to hope, something close to purpose.

However, the empress pulled you close, holding your arm covered in scars and stopping you from leaving. She stared at them for a moment, her gaze hesitating before rising to your face.

She said nothing. Her hands moved slowly, cautiously and carefully, like everything Mel did.

--- I won't break, Empress. --- you whispered, the warmth now covering your face and making you smile as you felt her touch on your chest.

--- Your empress...--- Her whisper sounded like a question, yet there was a glint of doubt in her avoidant gaze. Her eyes didn't stop on yours until you said it:

--- My empress.

With that, you two finally gave in and kissed on the balcony of the Medarda palace. You became her general, she became your empress --- you would fight for each other like wolves, like warriors, like lovers.

#arcane request #arcane #arcane x reader #arcane x you #mel medarda #mel arcane #mel x reader #mel medarda x reader #mel medarda x you #request #winged reader

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