#that's what it's all about in the end ^w^

[froothytoothy]

Your Idol

Saja Boys x Idol! Reader │ part 2

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summary - the saja boys finally get to meet you, although they aren't too happy with the way you've been treated

warning - fem reader, light bullying, a lil spice, possessive behaviour, obsessive fan behaviour

w/c - 3,3K

a/n - wish I could like comments, the ones I got on my previous chapter had me BLUSHING I love u all sm! pls correct me if there are any mistakes, comments, reblogs and likes are much appreciated, hope you enjoy!

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Blurred sounds scattered across you as you began to wake up. Your eyes were still blurry, so you couldn't make out the figures surrounding you, but they sounded oddly familiar. 

"Guys, shut up. She's awake".

A warmer, much larger hand grabs yours, "Are you alright now, love? You were out for a while, we were all so worried".

The stranger sounded nice, but your vision still hadn’t cleared up enough to figure out who was talking to you, so all you could do was stare blankly at the person holding your hand. 

The room went silent for a while before being interrupted by another man from your left. "I know she's just confused, but I can't lie that face she's making is so adorable". You assumed he was talking about you and a warm blush coated your cheeks. 

"Romance, now is not the time!"

Romance? As in, from the Saja Boys? 

Your vision soon came back, and surrounding you, you could see all five members of the Saja Boys, each staring at you fondly. 

Abby was the one holding your hand. He was sitting on the infirmary bed with you and Jinu. 

Mystery and Romance were on your left.

And Baby was on your right. 

You couldn't help the gasp you let out once you saw them. 

"Am I dreaming?" you accidentally said aloud. 

Jinu lets out a chuckle, "No darling, we are very much real. I could pinch you if you don't believe me. Are you feeling better now?"

You beamed, eyes sparkling with happiness. It almost sounded too good to be true, but still, you went along with it. 

After being trapped in the studio, you assumed you were too late to meet them. and concluded that it was nearly impossible for a group as popular as the Saja Boys to join a company as small as yours. Talking with other idols, especially those of the opposite gender, at things like award shows wasn't forbidden, but it was strange, so today was probably your only opportunity to meet them, and you did.

Albeit in a very unconventional way.

"I'm feeling a lot better now, thank you so much. I'm so happy to meet you guys, I'm such a big fan. But, what are you doing here with me? Shouldn't you be touring the company?" you questioned, finding it odd how they weren't with Jina, but with you.

“You passed out in Abby’s arms, how could we just leave and pretend nothing happened?” Baby spoke up calmly, although his eyes glistened with hints of worry. Your heart warmed at their thoughtfulness. 

According to Hojin and the other staff members, you weren't an important member, so they often ended up forgetting about you. Whenever something happened to you, they told you to just suck it up.

But despite never meeting you, the Saja Boys already cared so much about you. So much that they would wait here in the infirmary with you. 

Suddenly, you were reminded that you had forgotten to introduce yourself.

“Sorry, I forgot to say, I’m (Y/N). I'm a member of Harmoness. It's an honour to meet you”. You bowed your head, mostly in gratitude. If it weren't for them you'd probably still be stuck in the dance studio.

“We know who you are, princess. We did our research before coming here”, Romance teases, getting closer to the bed and putting his arm around your shoulders. You shivered at the close proximity between you. He began to lean closer, slowly closing the distance. By now, your body had frozen in place, your eyes locked into his. His every move was under your impenetrable gaze. You could see his lips coming closer and closer to yours, till they quickly diverted towards your ear. 

You'd be lying if you said you weren't just a bit disappointed.

The feeling of his warm breath and strong grip had your mind in a frenzy. He was so close you could feel the heat radiate off him and smell the sweet, but musky scent of his cologne. 

“Although you should know, princess, most of our information was from one of us,” he began, turning his head to the side. You followed his gaze, being too curious to stay frozen. 

Your mouth hung slightly in shock once your eyes made contact with an awkward-looking Mystery. His feet were shuffling across the ground, and his head was drooped down, almost like he was guilty of something. 

Romance walked away from you, much to your dismay, and came back dragging Mystery, who seemed very unwilling. “Go on, man, you can do it. You've been waiting so long for this moment”.

Mystery refused, shaking his head firmly. Watching the scene unfold was the equivalent of watching someone grow an extra head. You were left utterly confused. Why would Mystery know anything about you? Them doing research before coming here made sense, but out of all the people they got their information from, why was it Mystery? 

Mystery was the cool, mysterious figure of the group, so watching him act like this, so embarrassed, it was honestly so adorable. Perhaps the mysterious, quiet persona he had was just a cover-up for his shy personality.

Romance shook his head in disappointment. “Mystery is a big fan of yours, (Y/N). He's a little too shy to admit it, though”. You blinked slowly, taking in the revolutionary, newfound information. For a moment, you thought you had heard him wrong.

Mystery, a fan?

Of you?

You were surprised that he even knew about you, but being a “big fan”, it just seemed impossible. 

A monotone-like voice perked up, “Ever since you debuted, I've been a fan”. Taking a closer look at Mystery, you could see a red hue crawling up his neck and ears. Just saying that much was too much for him, but he pushed through the embarrassment and continued, slowly coming closer to you. “Honestly, I didn't care about the others, I only liked you”.

Despite how unbelievable it was, it was the truth. Before being recruited by Jinu and becoming one of the Saja Boys, Mystery had been obsessed with you since your debut. His time in the Underworld became a lot more bearable once you entered his life. The image of your warm smile burned layers into his brain. He’d seen countless hours of footage of other humans, and despite his very stoic face, he could tell how fake their smiles were, but yours. Yours was carved by angels.

His need to consume human souls almost completely subsided once his hunger was directed towards you.

Although it was a very different type of hunger.

Mystery had become completely infatuated with you, so when Jinu proposed that he join the Saja Boys, he knew this was his way of finally getting to you. 

And now you were finally right in front of him, but all those hours of planning were in vain. He just couldn't find the right words to say. Couldn't figure out how to stand or move right. His heart wouldn't stop beating, and his head wouldn't stop replaying the images from his fantasies. It was all too much at once. He was glad Romance had stepped in to help. 

You sat there, blissfully unaware of the turmoil occurring within Mystery. The other members stared at the both of you in amusement, knowing just how deep Mystery's obsession with you was. When he talked, it was only ever about you. 

And once the members saw you passed out in Abby's arms, they could finally understand him. They could smell the purity radiating off you, and with that, a warm, longing feeling overcame them. They would often tease Mystery for his strange fixation with you, but now they were all just as crazy about you. 

An adorable, child-like giggle interrupted their thoughts. You thought it was silly how someone as talented as Mystery would be a fan of someone like you. He even said he didn't care about the other members, which you found even more amusing. 

Still, it made your heart flutter knowing you were special to him. You looked up at him and smiled even wider, almost laughing at the confused look on Mystery’s face. “Thank you for your support! I never would've thought I'd be saying that kinda thing to someone like you. I figured I was so irrelevant that no one would notice me, but it's crazy how you guys do”, you babble, oblivious to the changing emotions going through the boys.

‘Irrelevant’

The word sent ripples of disgust through them. 

Being the most level-headed of the group, Jinu asked the question that was on everyone’s minds. “Why would you be irrelevant?” 

Maybe it was because you’d just woken up, or the lack of food in your stomach, that you ended up speaking without thinking. “My manager likes to tell me that a lot because I'm the least popular member of Harmoness. But he thinks that that’s a good thing because my looks and vocals aren't very good”. 

Looking around the room, you realized you had chosen the wrong dialogue. You could see each of their faces, drenched in what looked like rage. You couldn't understand what about your sentence made them this angry, but still you apologized. 

“Sorry, I'm just rambling at this point. It's probably cause I'm so hungry, that's probably why I passed out. My manager has me on this really strict diet and I never had breakfast-”.

You quickly stopped yourself, realizing that this definitely wasn't helping the situation.

“I wasn't supposed to tell you that, please just forget everything you heard”. But looking around the room, you knew they wouldn't be able to. How could they, when someone as precious as you was forced to suffer, even just for a minute. It broke their hearts to think about. 

The sound of a door slamming open quickly drew your attention towards it, and you could see Baby running out of the room in a hurry. 

Did you do something to upset him? 

“He's just going to do something real quick, he'll be back,” Abby says, and you nod, still a bit confused. 

You felt a wave of awkwardness enter the room, so you quickly changed the subject. “So, how did you guys find the tour? Are you thinking of joining?” You were very curious to know, praying that they’d at least consider it. Because of their explosive popularity, you knew they'd be treated like gods if they were here.

Jinu spoke up, still looking frustrated. “It was alright, I mean people did keep sucking up to us. Although, Romance and Abby had no complaints about that”. You let out another giggle, yeah, that definitely sounded like them. 

The sweet sound that came out of you had put the boys in a temporary trance. To them, everything you did was adorable.

They didn't bother asking what you thought of the company, already knowing how mistreated you were. It was something Mystery had picked up on from looking at hours of behind-the-scenes footage of you. He’d picked up on your changing behaviour, quick weight loss, and awkward chemistry between your members. 

So after piecing together all the footage, he figured mistreatment was definitely plausible. But still, hearing it from you, seeing you try to hide it. It sickened, not just him, but all of them. 

It was also suspicious the way your ‘leader’, Jina, wasn't too pleased about the idea of helping you. She was confident someone would come find you, but from your screams, they could tell no one had come for hours. How could they just walk away from you? Plus, you seemed a little too attached to Abby’s chest, even refusing to let go once you reached the infirmary. 

Suddenly, the door burst open, revealing Baby holding several kinds of unhealthy-looking junk food. He plopped them down on your lap and looked away nonchalantly, “For you”.

You looked down at the pile, mouth watering at the sight of the buffet of calories. You couldn't remember the last time you had a burger, or even instant noodles. It was definitely too much for you to handle, but you appreciated his efforts. 

“Thank you so much”, you beamed. You were so grateful, not just to Baby, but to all of them. Never in your life had you felt so loved and cared for. 

As if possessed, you began digging into whatever random food you picked up from the pile. You scarfed down one burger for the next, and honestly, you didn't feel ashamed.  It would’ve been rude if you didn't eat the food Baby bought for you, that's the only reason you were eating it, you thought. 

Due to the speed of your consumption, you forgot to chew and ended up choking. You started coughing and looking around the room, in search of a drink. A hand touched your shoulder, and you look up to see Mystery, holding a bottle of water. 

Quickly, you took the drink and gulped it down. Once you were done you exhaled in relief, “You saved me”, you laughed, looking up at Mystery with gratitude. “I've not eaten this much in so long, I must've gotten a bit too excited”.

You turned to Baby, who was on his phone, and asked, “How much was all this? I'll pay you back”. He turned, looking bored, before returning to his phone. 

“The staff gave it to me for free”.

Honestly, you found that hard to believe, but maybe it was because of how famous Baby was. Perhaps they wanted to give a good impression of the company, so they didn’t want him paying. 

The others let out a small smirk, knowing what had really happened out there. He most likely sucked out the souls of some of the staff and took the food for himself. But he wouldn't tell you that. 

The sweet moment was eventually ruined by the sounds of agitated screaming coming from behind the door. “She ruined everything, Manager! I tried to stop them, but they wouldn't listen”.

Everyone, including you, cringed at the sounds of complaint. You prepared for the whirlpool of trouble you were about to receive. 

The door burst open, revealing a pissed, middle-aged man. His gaze locked on you, his mouth wide open, ready to scream at you. That was until he saw the five boys surrounding you, each looking at the manager with a look that could kill. 

Hojin quickly put on a rehearsed smile and came up to ask how you were. You knew it was just an act, something to look better in front of the boys but you still went along with it; you’d done enough to damage his reputation already.

Behind him, you could see your fellow members, glaring at you from the door, but once their eyes made contact with the Saja Boys, they quickly switched up, putting on a perfect smile and even fixing up their hair. The boys responded with a snarl.

“So, boys, I take it you enjoyed the tour,” Hojin remarked, not wanting to focus on you any longer. To him, the Saja Boys were a prize, and he needed to win it. Harmoness had clearly run its course, so maybe he'd have better luck with the Saja boys, he thought. 

None of the boys wanted to answer, especially not to someone like him. All they wanted to do was go back to watching you. Watch you smile. Hear you giggle. And feel the warmth your heart gave out. But they couldn't, not when there were others around.

Jinu, being the leader, was forced to speak up. “It was good, definitely needs some improvements though”.

“Oh, any suggestions?” Hojin questioned, eager to please in any way he could. 

“The dance studio needs to be closer to other people,” he sneered coldly, still not over how you’d been trapped for so long. His heart ached with the thought of you being scared and alone in there.

Hojin laughed awkwardly, not knowing what to say in response. Jina spoke up, coming closer to Jinu, “I'm assuming you're planning on joining our company, I'd love to see you more,” she flirts, getting closer and closer to him. 

During the tour, she was so focused on the members that they barely got anywhere. She also had a nasty habit of showing off whenever she could. Being the most popular member of Harmoness really gave her an ego.

“We'll let you know at the Idol Awards,” Jinu said, backing away from Jina. 

Your head shot up and turned towards Jinu, “You're going to be at the Idol Awards too?” Jinu's eyes went back to yours and immediately softened, feeling you were much easier to be around than these other pesky humans. 

You could see Abby about to respond, but was cut off by Soo-ah. “Doesn't she know anything? They announced this weeks ago”. Each of the boys turned to glare at the maknae, but her attention was too focused on you for her to take notice. 

Abby ignored her and spoke, leaning closer to you. “We'll be at the Idol Awards performing our new song, will you be there for us, love?”

Hojin and the girls looked at each other in confusion. How could you have gotten so close to them already? Jina was especially jealous, wondering how the spotlight was taken by someone as insignificant as you. 

The nickname sent you blushing, and you nodded. “We're also going to perform a new song there, we've been working really hard on it!”

“We can't wait to hear it, darling, but unfortunately, we have to leave now,” Jinu says, and you couldn't help the frown forming on your lips. You felt like you had just met them and wanted to spend more time with them. This is the best moment you've had in years. 

“Don't look too sad, princess, we'll meet again soon,” Romance smirked, and you perked up slightly at the thought. You were glad they wanted to see you, just as much as you wanted to see them. 

“And don't even think about paying me back for the snacks, they're all yours,” Baby chimes, his face showing a ghost of a smirk on it. 

Mystery gave you a shy wave and left along with the others. You were going to miss them. The Idol Awards weren’t that far away, but you had no idea how you were going to recover once they were gone. The mark they left on you stained layers deep. 

Although it definitely motivated you to practice even harder, knowing they were going to be there watching.

Jinu was the last to leave, but not before asking Hojin and the girls to come outside with him, leaving you alone. Thank goodness, you did not want another lecture from anyone right now. 

You started putting the pile of food on the nightstand, but something had caught your eye. On one of the crisp packets, you saw a Post-it note. 

xx-xxxx-xxxx  call me don't text I want to hear your voice ❤ - Baby 

Out of all the things you expected the note to say, it wasn't that. Despite his adorable, nonchalant on-stage persona, Baby was anything but. In person, he often kept to himself, hardly speaking and allowing his looks to do the talking for him. But online, he was the complete opposite. With his appearance hidden, he could speak his mind freely. It’s why Baby is so attached to using his phone.

It had been the reason why he was acting so bored when he was with you. On the outside, it looked as though he hardly cared for you, but on the inside, his heart was blooming with emotions just for you.

You really had no idea just how much these boys loved you. In your mind, you assumed the boys just wanted to be your friend.

What you didn't realize was that the boys weren't interested in being just friends, but so much more. 

But you were going to find that out soon. 

Very soon. 

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a/n - thank you @jellyjellyghost for letting me know how to format korean phone numbers :D

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[pbaz7]

ONE SHOT: EXIT 42

paige x azzi

summary: when the lights and attention is too much, after the season ends Azzi leaves the city searching for solitude. somehow she finds herself in the middle of nowhere at a farmhouse where there’s a country girl with blonde hair and blue eyes.

word count: 18.5k

a/n: truly have no idea how this came about. i just started writing to see where it took me and it turned into this. this is probably the longest thing i’ve ever written so please let me know what you think!

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The W season ended with more of a numb static than any celebration. There was no playoff berth, just an almost instant dissolve into nothingness when the arena lights dimmed and the interviewers thinned out of the media room. Azzi had shaken every hand, signed every last Sharpie-blotted jersey, posed happily with every baby that had on Wings blue. Then, finally, she'd slipped out the back of the arena, into a waiting black SUV, her smile left on the court floor like her sweat for the season.

Now, three hours into her solo drive across Texas, Azzi was down to just one thing, silence. No podcasts. No calls. No playlist of affirmations her manager had made her for game days. Just the warm wind sneaking in through the cracked window and the sound of her custom light pink coupe, flying down the back roads.

She traded in her uniform for a Levi skirt and a white tank top. Her curls were pulled back, aviators shielding her tired eyes from the sun. Azzi still had her stacked gold necklaces and rings on; a compromise of sorts for her laid back outfit. Even the way she gripped the wheel as she drove looked like it belonged in an editorial.

The car's black rims gleamed through the heatwave. Somewhere an hour outside of Waco, the sun was getting lower making Azzi squint through the windshield. Her phone lost signal some time ago, no bars. All she knew was she was supposed to be on this road for quite a while.

But then of course the sputtering started. A few, ominous sounds from the engine before her beautiful car lurched. Stammering forward like a ballerina with a rolled ankle.

“Please no,” she said out loud, but the car jerked again smoke coming from the hood.

Up ahead, past a beautiful wooden fence and rows of trees, a large farmhouse rested. It seemed quiet, a little weatherworn, with a wraparound porch and a barn nestled near it.

There was no driveway Azzi could really make out, just a worn-down path of packed grass and the suggestion of tire tracks. Azzi followed it, rolling her pink coupe forward praying that she would make it.

“Okay, okay,” she whispered, trying to coax it towards the farm house. “Just get me there.”

The car moved up the small slope and coasted to a stop in front of the porch when she pressed on the brakes. Azzi killed the engine, sat there in the car for a second, letting the silence sink into the unfortunate moment.

Please don’t be a horror movie, she thought, reaching for her phone. Please don’t be a serial killer. Please just be normal.

She opened the car door and stepped out into the heat. Somewhere in the house she heard a dog bark a few times before it fell quiet like it got distracted by something else.

The porch stairs creaked under Azzi’s weight and the front door of the home was already open, only a thin screen door keeping the house separate from the world. A German shepherd was lying inside the screen door and it rose as soon as Azzi approached. The dog didn’t seem aggressive; it didn’t growl or bark like the one she heard a few seconds prior. It just watched her with intelligent eyes, head tilting to the side slightly as it analyzed her presence.

Azzi stopped on the steps, adjusted her sunglasses to rest on top of her head, then slowly made her way up. Her hand hovered for a second wondering if this was the best decision before she just pressed the doorbell to get it over with.

From somewhere deeper in the house Azzi heard the sound of a collar; loose metal hitting against itself as another dog approached the door. A golden retriever appeared behind the german shepherd, wagging its tail with his tongue out.

After a few more seconds a figure stepped into the doorway.

The woman looked like she was in her early twenties like Azzi. She had blonde hair that was twisted back into a messy bun like she'd done it without a mirror. She was a few inches taller than Azzi, with strong shoulders and sun tanned skin. Her overalls hung on her waist, the straps undone from her shoulders and swinging gently against the sides of a white tank top. There was a smudge of dirt across one knee of the overalls.

The woman’s eyes drifted down and back up, taking in Azzi’s presence: the pink car, the expensive jewelry, the athletic build, the unmistakable energy of someone who absolutely did not belong where they were. She didn’t do it in a judgmental way, it was more so her trying to piece together the situation at hand

Azzi felt herself swallow under the gaze of the woman’s blue eyes. All of a sudden her throat felt kind of dry and she was cautious of the movement of her throat that had nothing to do with thirst.

The woman finally spoke, easing Azzi’s anxiety a little. “You doin’ ok sweetheart?”

Azzi shifted on her feet before offering an apologetic smile. “I’m really sorry to bother you,” she said, keeping her voice softer than usual. “Something’s wrong with my car, and I don’t have a single bar of service. Your place was the only sign of life I’ve seen in a while, so…” She trailed off, gesturing vaguely back toward her car like it might explain the whole situation.

The blonde pushed the screen door open and stepped onto the porch. The golden retriever immediately trotted past her, his tail wagging as he gave Azzi a few eager nudges, brushing up against her legs before running off toward the open field.

The German shepherd didn’t move from inside the house until the woman gave it the go ahead with a slight movement in her hand.

The blonde looked toward the car, then pointed at it. “Let’s see it.”

Azzi nodded, falling into step next to her as they walked toward the pink coupe. Heat shimmered off the hood and when the woman popped it open, a coil of smoke hissed out, curling into the air. She stepped back not even peering into the mechanical mess yet to not burn herself. “Gotta let it cool down before I can look at it for you,” she said, wiping her hands on her overalls.

Azzi nodded.

The woman made sure the hood was propped open to accelerate the cooling down process before she turned toward Azzi. “Come inside. I can get you some water and a phone.”

Azzi didn’t move despite the invitation. Her weight shifted between her feet, the movement almost imperceptible but the blonde caught it. “Or,” she said, with a small half-smile, “you can sit on the porch and I’ll bring it out to you, sweetheart.”

Azzi’s mouth formed a polite, grateful smile. “That sounds good. Thank you.”

The woman gave Azzi a polite nod, like it was no problem at all before she turned back toward the house. Just before she stepped back into the house she glanced over her shoulder and looked around at the open land before she snapped her fingers once, then nodded toward Azzi.

The German shepherd responded by trotting over to Azzi’s side, standing next to her calmly.

Azzi looked down at the dog, then up at the porch, sunlight catching in the blonde woman’s hair as she stepped into the house.

Azzi walked up to the porch sitting down on a wooden swing bench, the wood warm against her thighs. The German shepherd followed her before settling at her feet, fixing its gaze on the property scanning for anything unusual.

The porch creaked with the breeze and Azzi let her shoulders fall as she took in the beautiful view. For once not being surrounded by city buildings, loud cars, and light pollution.

A minute or two passed quietly before the screen door creaked open again. The blonde woman stepped out with a glass of ice water in one hand and a phone in the other. She crossed the porch and handed them both to Azzi without saying much.

Azzi accepted them with a genuine smile before saying, “Thank you.” She stared at the phone for a few seconds, her thumb hovering over the screen before she dialed one of the only numbers she actually had memorized. It rang twice before someone on the other line picked up.

“Hey, Mom. It’s Azzi.”

The dog looked up from her feet at the sound of Azzi’s voice as the woman leaned against the porch railing a few feet away watching her other dog run around chasing a bird.

Azzi kept her conversation with her mom brief. Just enough to say that she was okay, had car trouble and that she just wanted someone to know where she was after asking the woman where they were exactly. Azzi promised to call again once she figured things out, then ended the call and handed the phone back.

“Thank you again,” she said, passing the phone back to the stranger. She accepted it and gave her a crooked charming smile. “Azzi’s a beautiful name. Never heard it before.”

Azzi looked over at her, the compliment disarming her with its sincerity. “Thank you,” she said. “You have one you wanna share?”

The woman grinned, brushing a strand of hair back from her face. “Excuse my manners. Don’t get many visitors out here.” She reached out one of her hand’s. It was slightly calloused from farm work but warm. “Paige.”

Azzi shook it, her soft hand wrapping around the woman’s. “Nice to meet you Paige.”

Their hands dropped, and the air held a quiet pause between the two strangers as Paige stepped away.

Azzi looked out toward the land. It was wide open, golden with the last stretch of sun, the sky painting itself in layers of soft fire orange mixed with blue and purple smoke. She had never seen the sky look so natural. The golden retriever who darted across the yard again aimlessly in a blur of joy caught Azzi’s eye.

There was nothing but nature out here. No ads. No cameras. No down to the wire schedules that made Azzi want to pull her hair out or lights beaming down at her to perform perfectly.

It was just a serene quietness that she wasn’t used to.

As the silence stretched between them it wasn’t exactly tense but for Azzi it was unfamiliar, making her skin crawl; she didn’t know how to be quiet and sit still anymore. So she sipped her water and traced her eyes over the endless line where the land met the sky.

The golden retriever came running back towards the house with a tennis ball held between its teeth. It dropped the ball right in front of Paige and looked up at her panting with its tongue out.

Paige chuckled, rubbing behind the dog's ears. “Well, alright then.” She picked up the ball before she launched it toward the open field.

Both dogs took off immediately, their big paws kicking up small clouds of dust as they ran. Azzi couldn’t help it when she smiled. It was one of her genuine, caught-off-guard ones that made the skin around her eyes soften and crinkle.

“It’s nice out here,” she offered. Finally, speaking to the stranger.

Paige glanced sideways at her. “Where ya from?”

Azzi tilted her head, her natural charm when interacting with people floating up. “What makes you think I’m not from here?”

Paige grinned, leaning back against the porch post. “No accent.”

Azzi laughed, making one of her dimples pop. “I’ve only been in Texas for about half a year,” she said.

Paige nodded. “So you’re still in the judging our sweet tea and figurin out if you prefer BBQ or Tex Mex phase.”

“I’m adjusting,” Azzi teased.

“Better learn to love pecan pie, too. Elders get real protective about that there.”

Azzi grinned as she took a sip of her water, the coldness a nice contrast to the heat against her lips. “Have you always lived in Texas?”

Paige looked out over the field, her sensitive eyes squinting against the fading sun. “Pretty much. Grew up in the city and I inherited this place. Figured I’d give peace and quiet in the country a try.”

Azzi nodded, the porch swing creaking slightly when she shifted. “Does it live up to the hype?”

“Some days,” Paige said. “Others, make ya realize you haven't used your voice in days.”

Azzi let the words how nice the words sounded sink into her psyche as her eyes scanned the horizon. “That sounds kind of amazing.”

The two of them watched the dogs run around. The golden retriever was still darting across the yard in wide, goofy routes, the shepherd shadowing him like a quiet older sibling, in more of a controlled manner as they played with one another.

A few more minutes passed in silence before Paige pushed herself to her feet, brushing her palms against her thighs. “Alright,” she said, her voice stretching a little as she straightened, “let me take a look at this for ya.”

She moved toward the pink coupe and Azzi followed her even though Azzi knew she had zero useful knowledge to offer the woman.

“Start it for me darlin,” Paige said after looking down at the hood for a few minutes.

Azzi moved around to the driver’s side and slid in, pressing the ignition button. The engine sputtered to life easily.

Paige leaned forward, squinting into the maze of metal, using the flashlight from her phone to peer down at everything as the car hummed. “You can shut it off.”

Paige straightened up from the hood and wiped her hands on the rag she kept in her back pocket. “You need a new water pump,” she said, pointing to the semi soaked center of the car. “Coolant’s leaking. That’s why she was running hot when ya got here.”

Azzi nodded as if she knew what any of that meant. “Right the water pump.” She tilted her head, lips quirking as she looked at Paige. “That’s bad?”

“Not the worst,” Paige said, her eyes drifting to meet Azzi’s. “I can fix it.”

Azzi’s shoulders relaxed by an inch.

“But bad news…” Paige offered an apologetic smile. “The auto shop in town doesn’t open again ’til Monday mornin.”

Azzi blinked. “It’s Saturday.”

Paige nodded. “’Fraid so.”

Azzi looked around at the dogs tumbling back toward them in the dusky light, and then back at Paige. It was quiet and the sun had almost dipped completely below the horizon. She felt like a flicker of inconvenience in the middle of what was clearly a peaceful life.

“You’re more than welcome to stay,” Paige offered. “Got a few guest rooms. They’re not too fancy, but the sheets are clean and the doors lock.”

Azzi hesitated, her usual instinct to be polite and unobtrusive kicking in. “I really don’t want to intrude. I can probably find a hotel not too far—”

Paige shook her head smiling at Azzi as the last of the light caught in her blue eyes, making them glow a little brighter as she grinned. “It’s really no problem, darlin’. I promise.”

That darlin’ curled around Azzi’s ribs in an unexpected way. It wasn’t flirtatious or performative. It just flowed off of the woman’s lips naturally, the way kindness should sound. Azzi could tell Paige wasn’t trying to impress her; she just meant it.

Maybe it was the Southern charm of the gorgeous woman, or maybe it was the exhaustion catching up to her, but Azzi gave a small smile as she nodded. “Okay,” she said. “Thank you, I appreciate it.”

Paige gave a satisfied nod before she turned toward the yard and let out a whistle. Both dogs perked up and turned on a dime and bolted toward the porch. “C’mon, boys. In you go.”

The golden retriever sprinted past them, his tail a metronome of happiness. While the german shepherd followed at a more regal pace, brushing past Paige’s leg.

As they stepped into the house, Paige’s voice changed. She made it kinder than she’d already been somehow. “You can leave your shoes by the door if you’d like, no pressure though. Floors are clean, but I won’t fuss if you track in a little dirt.”

Azzi stepped out of her shoes easily wanting to be respectful.

Paige moved ahead of her, switching on a low lamp that warmed the entryway in honey-colored light. The air smelled like a mixture of cedar and vanilla. Everything about the interior of the house, the hardwood floors, the framed photos on the wall, the slowness, and the lived-in ease of it made the place feel like it had been here since the beginning of time.

“You hungry?” Paige asked gently, glancing over her shoulder as she moved toward the kitchen. “I’ve got leftover chili, or I can throw together something light if you’re not up for real food.”

Azzi shook her head, still taking everything in. “Leftovers sound amazing.”

“Help yourself to the fridge if you need anything at any point,” Paige added. “One of the bathroom’s just down that hallway to the left, and I’ll show you the guest rooms once we get you fed.”

There was something about the way she said it — we’ll get you fed — like this wasn’t a favor, like it was just what you do when someone’s at your door and needs a place to land.

Azzi once again felt something loosen in her chest at the kindness of the stranger. “Thanks,” she said for what felt like the tenth time, but the genuineness was still there.

Azzi settled at the kitchen table, resting her elbows on the worn solid tree wood. She could tell the table held a lot. Conversations, coffee rings, old and new grief, elbows of different generations. The chairs didn’t match, exactly, but they belonged together and some of them were engraved. The light above the table was a kind of yellow that made you look a little kinder than you did in the mirror.

She watched as Paige moved around the kitchen fluidly, like she’d danced the same pattern a hundred times. She pulled a container from the fridge and scooped chili into a pot, setting it gently on the stove and covering it with a lid to warm it up. Everything she did was quiet somehow, no clattered pans or cabinets being loudly shut.

“What do you do?” Paige asked, trying to make conversation.

The words pulled Azzi from her thoughts. Her eyes had been tracing the veins on Paige's arms and the calluses on her hands.

Paige glanced over her shoulder when she didn’t hear an answer.

Azzi deflected the question with one of her own. “What do you do?”

There was a brief pause when Paige noticed the deflection but she didn’t push it. She crossed the room and pulled out the chair across from Azzi, and sat down, resting her forearms on the table. “Spend the beginning of most my days on the farm,” she said, her accent like warm honey against Azzi’s ears. “Feeding the animals, checking fences, fixing things that fall apart overnight just for the hell of it.”

Paige shrugged like it wasn’t all that remarkable. “Go out to the auto shop sometimes if they’re short-handed. Make sure the elders around here are looked after. Groceries, rides, stuff like that.”

Azzi blinked. “That’s really nice of you.”

Paige gave her a half-smile. “Out here, it’s just life. Everyone’s gotta take care of somebody.”

Azzi didn’t know how to reply to that. Her life, the constant schedule, the sponsors, the city lights that only turned off if the power did, didn’t make space for that kind of simplicity or sincerity.

Instead she looked around the kitchen. It was clean, but not curated like most modern houses were these days. There were mugs stacked near the sink, a chipped ceramic rooster on the windowsill, a cast iron skillet resting on the stove. The wallpaper was a little faded at the corners and a radio sat tucked between two cookbooks.

Paige was still sitting across from her in her undone overalls, her tank top was clinging slightly to her skin from the Texas heat and being in the kitchen and a few stray strands of her blonde hair were loose from the bun as she looked completely at home in it all.

Azzi found herself studying the angles of her face. The curve of her nose and the pinkness of her lips. The way she didn’t seem to need to fill the silence with unfruitful words.

“Out here…” Azzi said quietly, like the words had slipped out without permission. “It seems different already.”

Paige leaned back in her chair. “Different from what?”

Azzi paused, searching for something that didn’t sound dramatic or obvious but ultimately failing. “Everything.”

Paige nodded like she understood what Azzi meant without needing to know the details. “Well,” she said gently, “sometimes different’s exactly what you need after bein’ in the city.”

Azzi nodded, her fingers idly tracing the rim of the glass Paige handed her earlier.

The golden retriever trotted into the kitchen. He had his tongue out as he stopped in front of Azzi, tail wagging with hopefulness of head scratches from the stranger.

Azzi smiled at him, reaching to scratch behind his ears, her hand moving automatically like it was a routine her body remembered better than her mind did. “What’s his name?”

Paige glanced down at him, her smile growing as she watched him push closer to Azzi. “That’s Beau. He likes to pretend he don’t like attention, but he lives for it.”

“And the other one?” Azzi asked, referring to the other dog that was most likely mulling around in the living room.

“Out there’s Stew.”

Azzi looked up at Paige in surprise, her smile blooming wide. “I have a dog named Stewie.”

Paige let out a laugh. “Stewie, huh?”

Azzi nodded, still scratching Beau’s ears as the dog leaned into her palm.

Paige stood and walked to the sink, washing her hands before she pulled two bowls from the cabinet. She ladled chili into the bowls and added wedges of warm cornbread that looked like it’d been made earlier that day. Perfectly golden, crumbed on top of the chili, still smelling faintly of butter and cornmeal after being warmed.

Azzi stood up too, slipping past Beau to wash her hands. The warm water ran through her fingers and she moved slower than usual. When she returned to the table, Paige was already sitting in her seat, one bowl in front of her and one pushed forward in offering. Azzi sat back down and said, “Thank you,” before picking up the spoon.

She took her first bite a little slowly, testing out the taste just in case. But the second the spoon touched her tongue, her eyes fluttered shut for just a second. The warmth of the chili spread through her chest like a cherry blossom in peak spring causing her to let out an involuntary hum.

Paige laughed, leaning back in her chair, her own bowl untouched for the time being. “Good?”

Azzi opened her eyes, unable to stop the smile forming on her face. “I probably haven’t eaten anything that wasn’t made with the exact nutritional breakdown in mind in...months. This is amazing.”

Paige grinned. “Well, this one’s full of beef, beans, and butter. So if that’s a crime where you’re from, I’ll plead guilty now.”

Azzi laughed as she went to dip her spoon back in.

“Eat up,” Paige said. “Plan on showin’ you what farm life’s like tomorrow.”

Azzi looked up and arched one eyebrow. “That sounds a little worrisome.”

Paige grinned as she started to eat, the natural charm in her ambience radiating off of her. “Only if you’re scared of a little dirt.”

Azzi shook her head, smiling into her bowl as she took another bite.

After dinner was over, Azzi reached for her bowl and stacked Paige’s on top of it before trying to get up to head toward the sink.

Paige stopped her halfway, putting her hand lightly on Azzi’s forearm.

“I know you’re not tryin’ to do dishes as a guest in my home,” she said, her voice all soft topped with a charming smile.

Azzi opened her mouth, but Paige was already taking the bowls from her hands, her southern hospitality slipping back into gear like muscle memory. “Go take your shower, darlin’. You’re a guest, not a line cook.”

Azzi hesitated. Something about being taken care of without offering anything in return always made her pause, like her body didn’t know how to relax unless it specifically knew what it had to give in return. Seeing Paige’s genuine smile as she took the bowls from Azzi’s hand made her give in, once again offering a, “Thank you,” before she headed down the hall.

The bathroom was the perfect size and it carried a floral scent that Azzi couldn’t put her finger on. There was a natural homemade lavender soap bar in a ceramic dish and neatly folded towels that Paige set out.

The hot water hit her shoulders and she instantly let out a sigh of relief she didn’t want to admit she needed. Azzi closed her eyes and let the water just run over her skin for a long while with her head tilted down, her curls cascading down her back as the steam curled against her.

When she stepped out she wrapped herself in the soft towel and her limbs already felt looser than they had in weeks. She padded a few steps barefoot towards the room she picked for herself to stay in.

The door was already open and Paige was inside finishing up putting fresh sheets and blankets over the mattress, smoothing the last one out with one hand. The German shepherd was curled on the floor near the corner in his dog bed with his chin resting on his paws.

Azzi paused in the doorway.

The bed was dressed in fresh white sheets and a soft, faded blue blanket layered underneath a knitted blanket. Paige stepped back to check the corners, one of her overall straps now actually secured over her shoulder while the other one stayed loose. She looked up when she saw Azzi and smiled.

“All yours,” she said, tucking one of the edges one more time.

Azzi watched her for a moment, not in awe or anything like that, ok maybe a little, but more so in that quiet wonder that rises when someone does something kind without asking for credit. It wasn’t performative or about being seen as some savior, it was just…Paige. She had shown Azzi more kindness in a few hours than some of the people who’d been in her life for months.

“I’ll let you settle in,” Paige said, her voice dipping into that Southern lilt that always made everything feel like it was going to be ok. “Sleep well, sweetheart.”

She snapped her fingers once, gently, and the shepherd lifted his head to look at her. “Stay,” Paige told him, nodding once toward Azzi.

The shepherd let out a huff of air and lowered his head again, settling deeper into the big dog bed tucked against the wall.

Paige reached for the door handle and turned the lock from the inside before glancing back at Azzi. “Some folks sleep easier knowin’ the door’s locked,” she said.

“Thank you,” Azzi said, giving her a soft smile.

Paige gave her a nod before she stepped out and pulled the door softly shut behind her.

Azzi was standing next to the bed, her towel still wrapped around her, skin still warm from the shower. She looked at the dog, already dozing off with this toy tucked under him. She looked at the bed that was freshly made just for her and then she just stood there a minute longer. It wasn’t that she didn’t know what to do next, it was just that for the first time in a while, there was no pressure to decide right away.

…

The next day Azzi woke up without an alarm for the first time in almost a year. Her phone wasn’t buzzing and there weren’t any blinking reminders filling her notifications. Just the quietness of the house and sunlight easing its way through the linen curtains, brushing over the bed.

She blinked slowly, slightly disoriented as her body tried to figure out if it was okay to feel rested.

The room was completely still. In the corner Stew was lying exactly where she’d last seen him, with his chin propped on what looked like a soft, worn plush toy shaped like a duck. His eyes were open as he looked up at her and somehow his posture was relaxed and alert at the same time.

"Morning Stew," she whispered, her voice a little raspy from her sleep.

She pushed herself up, letting her feet settle against the warm wooden floor. After freshening up and doing her hair Azzi changed into something comfortable — lulu joggers and a thin tank top — she padded into the hallway. The soft sound of her footsteps were followed by Stew’s heavier gait and his collar echoing around the house.

The house smelled faintly like coffee and Azzi knew some of the windows were open because she heard birds chirping from different angles. It was a morning song that didn’t exist in Azzi’s usual life because she was surrounded by traffic and smog.

She wandered through the house, half-curious, half-lost in how big it actually was. It wasn’t until Stew picked up pace, his tail swaying a little more eagerly, that she followed him toward the screen door.

Outside, Paige was sitting on the porch steps with a mug in one of her hands. She hadn’t seen Azzi yet, but the second Stew came barreling out into the yard, she spoke without turning her head. “Mornin’.”

Azzi smiled, stopping just shy of the top step, watching the two dogs tumble through the grass.

“Good morning,” she said, her voice a little softer than it was yesterday when she arrived, her eyes still adjusting to how wide open the sky looked out here.

She let her gaze drift past the yard to the line of trees that stretched like a straight spine across the horizon, to the fields highlighted in the morning sun, to the faint sound of something in the distance: it sounded like maybe a tractor.

She stepped closer, careful not to move too fast and interrupt the moment before she glanced down at the mug in Paige’s hands. “Coffee or tea?”

Paige turned her head to look up at her. “Coffee,” she said. “But I promise to not to judge you if you’re one of those green tea types.”

Azzi laughed under her breath and took a seat beside her, the porch wood holding the warmth of the mornin sun.

“No judgment necessary,” she said. “I just forgot what a slow morning feels like.”

Paige sipped from her mug, her gaze on the dogs as they rolled around together. “Well,” she said, “you’re in the right place for it.”

As Azzi sat next to Paige, their shoulders brushed before Azzi settled fully. They weren’t touching but they were close enough that the warmth between them would’ve been shared if either of them leaned slightly to the side.

Azzi toyed with the bottom of her shirt as she scanned the horizon like she was trying to read something written in between the tree lines. It was so weird for her to be in a setting that held no expectations and after a moment of not being able to sit in silence anymore she quietly spoke. “My days usually start around five,” she said, not looking at Paige. “Then it’s just...nonstop work. My schedule is built down to the second. If I’m lucky, on some days I get an hour to myself before I fall asleep and do it all again the next day.”

Paige didn’t say anything, just nodded along.

Azzi let out a deep breath before she kept going. “People talk to me a lot about what I should do, what I should wear, how I should act, who I should be. Smile more but not too much because people still need to take me seriously. Be more down to earth but don’t share everything about myself. Say less. Say something more inspiring.” Her voice curled at the edges of the last word like it tasted sour on her tongue.

She glanced sideways and found Paige already watching her with curiosity that made space for Azzi to speak freely.

“I get it. It’s part of my job and I’m so grateful,” Azzi added quickly, like she’d rehearsed that line a thousand times before. “I know what I signed up for.”

Paige took a sip from her mug. “Don’t mean it ain’t heavy sweetheart.”

Something about how simply Paige said that made Azzi smile a little. Like the truth could just...be, without needing to be dressed up.

“I guess I just forgot what it feels like to be quiet. To wake up and not already feel behind about things I have no idea about.”

The dogs came sprinting back in front of them, Beau with a stick way too long for his mouth, as Stew chased after him trying to get it for himself.

“Have you ever liked the noise?” Paige asked curiously.

Azzi thought about it before saying, “Maybe at one point, but lately I think I’ve been craving silence more than anything else.”

Paige hummed in understanding, her eyes following the dogs until she couldn’t see them anymore. “Well,” she said after a few seconds, “you’re welcome to as much silence as you need. We’ve got plenty of it round here.”

“That sounds amazing...but a little scary at the same time.”

Paige grinned. “Only if you’re the type who gets addicted to stillness.”

Azzi tilted her head just enough for a strand of hair to fall loose against her cheek. “Maybe I am.”

Paige grinned to herself subtly, like she’d caught the tail end of Azzi’s flirtation and tucked it somewhere for later.

“You hungry?”

Azzi stretched her arms above her head causing her shirt to ride up slightly. “I could eat.”

Paige stood up and put her mug on the porch railing, she then tipped her chin toward the side of the house. “Come on, then. Gonna show you where breakfast starts.”

Azzi followed her, the cool blades of grass brushing against her ankles as they walked. Stew trailed close behind them while Beau wandered off in pursuit of something rustling in the bushes.

They rounded the side of the house, past a rust-colored watering hose, until a shed came into view. The air smelled like hay and something faintly vanilla sweet, maybe clover drying in the sun.

Azzi slowed down when she realized where they were heading. “Wait…chickens?” she said a little hesitantly, both of her eyebrows raising.

Paige looked back at her with a smile. “Where’d you think eggs came from? Trader Joe’s?”

Azzi laughed under her breath, a little surprised at herself. “I guess I’ve just never met my breakfast before.”

“Well,” Paige said, swinging open the door with one hand, “they’ve been dying to meet you.”

The chickens clucked and moved around the enclosure like they owned the place. Which, by all appearances, they did. Paige stepped inside first, grabbing a wicker basket off a nearby hook.

“Here darlin,” she said, handing it to Azzi. “Gentle hands. Don’t squeeze or drop the eggs. They’ll hold grudges if you waste em.”

Azzi took the basket a little awkwardly, her stance a mixture between curious and cautious.

“You’re joking,” she said.

“Am I?” Paige responded, trying to be deadpan, but her mouth was already twitching into a grin.

Azzi moved through the enclosure slowly, watching as Paige reached into one of the nesting boxes and came back with two brown eggs cupped in her palm.

“Just like that,” Paige said, stepping aside to let Azzi try.

Azzi leaned in tentatively and one of the hens gave her a quick side-eye but didn’t move. With a careful, and painfully slow reach, Azzi managed to pick up an egg and place it in the basket. A large smile overtook her face.

“Not bad, city girl.”

“I’m a fast learner,” Azzi said, a little smugly, showing off her playful side.

But of course the world needed to keep balance and without warning, one of the smaller chickens shot across the coop floor in a blur charging directly at Azzi’s feet.

Azzi jumped back with a loud screech, almost dropping the basket.

Paige let out a low laugh, causing her chest to vibrate. “She likes to test folks every mornin,” she said, walking over and shooing the chicken away with her boot. “Power trip, mostly.”

Azzi looked down at the basket, checking that none of the eggs had cracked. “I feel like I just failed a very specific interview.”

Paige grinned as she took the basket from her. “Nah. She only goes for the pretty ones.”

Azzi blinked at that, and then glanced away, hiding the smile that bloomed warmly across her face.

Paige grabbed the rest of the eggs before she set them gently to the side and picked up a tin bucket of feed. “Alright,” she said. “Now we earn it and say thank you.”

Azzi followed her to the other end of the enclosure, watching as Paige scattered grain, the chickens swarming in quickly.

“You want a turn?”

Azzi nodded and took the bucket, laughing as a few of the bolder hens followed every step she took.

There was something simple and satisfying about doing this first thing in the morning. The light movement, the sun cascading in, the rhythmic cluck of chickens going about their business like the world around them wasn’t on fire.

By the time they were finished with the chickens, Azzi’s shoes were a little dusty and her shoulders were surprisingly still light.

Back inside, the coolness of the house was a nice contrast to the heat outside.Paige was washing her hands at the kitchen sink with her sleeves pushed to her elbows, the sound of running water mixed with the sound of birds outside. Azzi lingered by the table, glancing at the radio between cookbooks, silently wondering if it even worked.

“You want help?” Azzi asked.

Paige reached for a pan without looking at Azzi. “No, I'd like for you to just sit there and look pretty.”

Azzi’s dimple popped and she didn’t even bother to pretend she was offended. She slid into one of the chairs and propped her elbows on the table, resting her chin in her hand as she watched Paige move around the kitchen.

Their conversation meandered easily through small things. The weather, the names of the chickens. A story about the time Beau got muddy from being stuck under the porch trying to chase a frog in the rain.

Eventually Paige turned around from the stove and placed a plate gently in front of Azzi.

Fresh soft eggs with the kind of scramble that comes from someone who knows how to be patient and cook them to their full potential. A slice of toast was slathered with a deep red jam that smelled like the personification of summer. There was a side of sliced avocado and a small bowl of fruit filled with peaches, blueberries, and slices of something green and unfamiliar but sweet.

Azzi blinked at the meal like it was too beautiful to eat. “Thank you,” she said, quieter than she was speaking before.

Paige wiped her hands on a towel and glanced down. “How you take your coffee?”

“Just a little cream.”

Paige nodded and poured from the pot into a ceramic mug, adding a splash of cream before she placed it in front of Azzi and finally sat down across from her.

Azzi took a sip of her coffee first, the warmth settling deeper than just her chest.

The first bite of eggs was soft, buttery, somehow both delicate and rich. The jam on the toast was the perfect mixture of sweetness and tart, bright, like someone bottled a family memory and spread it across warm bread. Even the fruit tastes different; less like it had come from a store and more like it had been chosen only when it reached its pristine ripeness.

Paige watched her with a small grin on her face. “Alright?” she asked.

Azzi nodded as she finished swallowing. “It’s not fair,” she said, almost to herself.

Paige raised her eyebrow. “What’s not?”

“That everything here tastes like it was literally pulled from the earth before you put it on my plate.”

Paige smiled crookedly, the apples of her cheeks growing. “That’s ’cause it was.”

Azzi looked out the window, past the frame and into the light slipping through the trees. She didn’t know how to describe how at ease she felt, how good it felt to be actively present in her day.

They ate in a comfortable silence. Azzi didn’t feel the need to fill the space with pleasantries or small talk and unlike most people Paige didn’t ask for anything more than her presence.

When they were done, Paige gathered both plates without asking, rinsing them in the sink with the same calmness she did everything else.

Azzi leaned back in the chair with her coffee cupped between her hands. Her eyes were wandering along the quiet patterns of the room. She watched the sway of a curtain near the window, looked at a sun faded picture tucked in the corner of another framed picture, and listened to the dogs still running around freely outside.

Paige turned around, drying her hands on a towel, and let her eyes rest on Azzi as she looked around. Even in an outfit as simple as a thin tank top and sweats, Azzi looked like she belonged on a billboard. Paige noticed the quiet luxury stitched into the details; the fabric, the way it fit her. Even her posture held a polish for cameras she probably didn’t realize anymore.

“You mind if I give you some clothes?” Paige asked, casually.

Azzi raised an eyebrow, a flirtatious smile forming as she tilted her head. “What, I don’t look good in these?”

Paige chuckled, the Southern charm slipping in under her breath. “You’d look good in anything, sweetheart,” she said, before adding, “I just wanna give you somethin’ you can dirty up a little.”

Azzi looked down, a soft laugh coming from her as she bit her bottom lip lightly. “Okay.”

Paige just grinned, shaking her head like Azzi was trouble that she definitely didn’t mind.

She disappeared down the hallway and a minute later came back with an armful of worn denim and cotton.

“Jeans and a tank top,” she said, holding them out. “You about my size right?”

Azzi took them, running her fingers over the fabric. The denim was soft from years of wear and the tank top was a pale washed-out green color.

“Close enough,” Azzi said.

Paige went to grab something by the doorway and came back with a pair of light brown boots, scuffed at the toes. “You’re gonna want these too. Don’t want you stepping on anything with only sneakers on out there.”

Azzi took them with a large grin on her face, coffee eyes sparkling a little. “You usually dress your guests?”

“Only the beautiful ones.”

Azzi’s laugh followed her down the hall as she went back to the guest room to change. For a moment, the farmhouse felt like the only place in the world that made sense. Even though Azzi knew getting used to something like this would only make going back to the city harder, she allowed herself to bask in it and pretend that this was just her daily life.

She stepped back in the kitchen with the clothes fitting her in a way that made her pause when she first put them on. The jeans were low on her hips, and pretty loose in the thigh area. The tank top was roomy without swallowing her frame completely. Paige was all over the clothes. Everything she put on smelled faintly like vanilla but there was something else underneath it, with a deeper scent. Cedarwood or sandalwood maybe. The soft masculine scent comforted Azzi in a way. It made her feel held without feeling overwhelmed.

Paige had changed too. Traded her sweats for blue jeans and a white ribbed tank that hugged her in a way Azzi wasn’t ready for this early in the morning.

Azzi’s gaze got caught on the exposed skin. On the sharpness of Paige’s collarbone, the defined lines of her muscles in her arms. Heat flickered in her stomach and something warm stirred in her chest before she cleared her throat.

Paige looked up, giving Azzi a quick scan that transitioned into a grin. “Look at you,” she said a little proudly. “If I ain’t know any better, I’d say you were tryin’ to fit in.”

Azzi arched her eyebrow, lifting a boot clad foot before putting it back down. “What gave me away? The boots or the borrowed masculinity?”

Paige laughed, grabbing a ball cap off a hook by the door. “Neither. You wear it well.”

They stepped outside together, the screen door snapping gently behind them. The light outside was wider than it was earlier that morning, more golden lines were slanting across the fields, the dew starting to lift off the grass. Stew trotted ahead of them while Beau took a more chaotic route darting between puddles and shrubs with his tongue out.

“What’s first?” Azzi asked, pulling her hair back so her curls weren’t in her eyes as they reached the edge of the fence.

Paige unlatched the gate and pushed it open with her hip. “We’ll start easy. Waterin’ the garden, checkin’ the fence line, tending to the horses.”

“You’re really laying on the full country fantasy, huh?”

Paige looked over her shoulder and just grinned, her eyes gleaming under the brim of her cap.

They walked toward a small shed tucked next to a row of raised garden beds, and Azzi felt the morning settle around her again. Even though she knew she was going to be ‘working’ it didn’t feel heavy like usual. Like she knew the hours ahead weren’t waiting to demand something, but to be lived through, one quiet moment at a time as she connected with the earth.

The sun was already climbing insistently. It was late September, but Texas hadn’t gotten the memo. The heat still hung in the air like it needed to be baked into the soil. It was unbearable yet but it made shirts stick between shoulder blades and turned every chore into something a little more draining.

The garden beds stretched in neat colorful rows, full of stubborn green. There were tomatoes, peppers still ripening in the shade of their leaves, vines reaching toward the sky like they weren’t aware the season was changing.

Azzi held the hose Paige gave her in one hand, the nozzle set to a soft spray as she moved between the beds. The water misted out in a gentle arc, darkening the soil in wide, damp circles. It was ridiculously calming. The rhythm, the lightness of it as her boots sank slightly into the dirt as she moved.

Paige was crouched a few feet away with her knees deep in one of the beds, long fingers buried in the soil as she tugged up a tangle of weeds. Her white tank top already had faint smudges of dirt, the fabric pulling across the slope of her back and the carved muscle of her shoulders every time she leaned forward. There was a sheen of sweat along her upper chest now, catching in the dip of her collarbone and Azzi couldn’t quite stop watching it.

They talked in fits and starts casually, spaced by silence and the sound of the hose.

“So what’s your garden philosophy?” Azzi asked, adjusting the nozzle to hit a stubborn patch of squash.

Paige pulled another weed and tossed it into the bucket at her side. “Plant what you’ll eat. Don’t plant what you won’t. And don’t baby anything too much; if it wants to live, it’ll find a way.”

Azzi smiled to herself. “That sounds suspiciously like life advice Paigey.”

Paige glanced up at her, the sun hitting the sweat on the edge of her jaw. “Ain’t it all?”

Azzi shook her head and went back to watering, eyes drifting now and then when Paige shifted. At one point she was crouched low with one boot braced against the edge of the bed. There was something about watching her work and the casual competence of it that got under Azzi’s skin in the strangest way.

“You always this hands-on with the property?” Azzi asked, moving toward the next bed. It was a normal question but the cadence of her voice let it be known she was trying to tease Paige a little bit.

Paige sat back on her heels and looked at her, wiping the back of her wrist across her eyebrow to catch the sweat. “Well, I’m not about to outsource pullin’ pigweed to a stranger.”

Azzi laughed. “That’s fair.”

“But yeah,” Paige added after a few seconds, brushing her hands off on her jeans. “I like takin’ care of what’s mine. Feels more honest that way.”

Azzi met her eyes for a few beats longer than she meant to. “That makes sense,” she said softly.

Paige just smiled at her, laughing when Azzi playfully sprayed Beau who was messing around outside of the garden before she leaned forward again dropping her focus back to the dirt like she didn’t feel the energy radiating from Azzi’s eyes.

The sun kept rising as they worked and Azzi, for all her control, discipline and years of media training, thought entirely too much about the way sweat traced the line of Paige’s spine when she bent down, and how still she felt in the middle of it all.

How easy it was for her to just be. Not only be herself but be present in the moment. She found herself relaxing enough to snort when she found something funny, to be loud when she wanted to be outgoing and quiet when she needed a moment to think.

They left the garden with dirt still stuck to their hands, Paige carrying the basket of weeds as Azzi slung the hose \ over the post where it belonged. The afternoon sun had of course climbed higher, beautifully spilling across the fields. Mother nature showed mercy with a breeze that picked up enough to blow Paige’s hair where it had started to stick to the back of her neck.

“Come on,” Paige said, tipping her chin toward the barn past the rise. “Let me introduce you to the real divas of this place.”

The barn doors were already open and the air was cooler when they stepped inside. Three horses stood in separate stalls, all of them turning their heads at the sound of footsteps. They were all beautiful. Elegant animals that made you quiet down to look at them in their natural state.

“This here’s Rosie,” Paige said, stepping close to a deep chestnut mare with a white blaze down her nose. “Bossy as hell but she earns the right with the way she rides.”

Rosie flicked her ears, then stepped forward to nudge Paige’s shoulder with her nose like she was saying hi.

“The big guy next door is Jasper,” Paige said, reaching out to run her hand down the neck of a tall black gelding whose coat gleamed showing how well kept they were. “He’ll follow you around like a big dog if you let him.”

Azzi hovered behind Paige, looking at each horse as she introduced them. Her expression was a mix of intrigue and hesitancy looking at the large animals.

“And last but never least,” Paige said, nodding toward the farthest stall, “is Taffy. Don’t let her name fool you, she's got more attitude than both the others put together.”

Azzi laughed and finally stepped a little closer. “They’re much bigger up close.”

Paige glanced back at her. “Ain’t much in the world more honest than a horse. They don’t fake anything. If they don’t like you, you’ll know. But if they do, it's up there with the seven wonders.”

She reached into a feed bucket and handed Azzi a half of an apple. “Go on and give it a try,” she offered. “Rosie won’t bite…hopefully.” She grinned as she added the last part jokingly.

Azzi looked at her sideways but took the apple. She moved toward Rosie slowly with the fruit flat on her palm. When she got close enough Rosie leaned in brushing her lips against Azzi’s palm as she took the treat.

Azzi looked down at her intact hand in surprise. “She’s really gentle.”

Paige grinned and stepped in next to her, close enough that they could feel the heat radiating off of one another. She reached up and guided Azzi’s hand toward Rosie’s cheek. “Here,” Paige said, quietly to not startle anyone. “Right there. See?”

Azzi’s palm settled against the mare’s face, and Rosie leaned into it, huffing out warmly against Azzi’s forearm.

“Okay,” Azzi whispered. “Okay, that’s…she’s kind of incredible.”

Paige smiled. “You did good, city girl.”

Azzi turned her head, the proximity of the two of them close enough that she could see the faint smear of dirt still on her cheekbone from the garden.

With their positioning and the couple of inches Paige had on Azzi the blonde had to glance down to make eye contact. When she did she noticed Azzi studying her already. “What is it?”

Azzi’s voice comes out with a sense of vulnerability when she speaks. “You’re just good at making things seem a lot less scary.”

They glanced at one another with a brief look of infatuation before Paige whispered “Got the strange feelin that you’re braver than everybody round here sweetheart.” This made Azzi feel flushed from how seen she suddenly felt.

They stood there for a breath, taking in each other's features before Paige smiled and pulled away delicately, her palm brushing against the back of Azzi’s hand as she let go. “We’re in here to feed ‘em first,” she said, moving toward the tack room. “But if you’re feelin’ up for it later, I’ll saddle Rosie for you.”

Azzi looked at the mare, who blinked at her with a look that could almost be called regal. “I don’t know if I’m ready for all of that just yet, but I’m not shooting the idea down.”

Paige nodded and called back over her shoulder, “We’ll see what the day says.” Knowing that a day on the farm could say anything.

The work in the barn moved in more of a slow rhythm than the garden. They kept pace with the time of day as Azzi helped refill the feed bins, unlatched a few gates and raked hay with loose, imperfect lines that made Paige laugh. She held the bucket while Paige cleaned out the stalls, handed her tools—sometimes the wrong ones—when Paige had to fix something, and watched the ease in her hands as she moved through the morning with the comfort of knowing what needed to be tended to and what could wait.

Azzi enjoyed every second of it. She was used to her body being tired. Sore from lifting, bruised from days and games packed too tightly together, jet lag from city to city, but this feeling was different. Her muscles ached, but it was in a way that felt more purposeful. She could feel every part of herself in the work she was doing: her shoulders, her hands, her breathing. It was like the static in her chest had finally gone quiet.

She wiped sweat from her temple with the back of her arm and leaned on the fence post, the thick heat starting to catch up to her a little.

Paige glanced over from where she was tossing fresh hay, her white tank now damp and sticking to her torso and back. She grinned when she saw Azzi leaning on the fence. “Still breathin’?”

Azzi’s laugh was unfiltered as she nodded. “Barely.”

Paige laughed and offered for Azzi to go inside. When Azzi immediately shot down the proposition Paige gave her something to do back at the barn so she could have a break from the sun.

They finished just after one, the sun high and the sky a clean washed-out blue that stretched endlessly. They both went back inside to shower and by the time Paige stepped out and grabbed her keys, Azzi was waiting on the porch steps with her fingers trailing over Stew’s ears as Beau barked for her attention.

Paige went to pull the truck around. It was a baby blue Ford that looked like it had lived a few lives and still had gas for more. She hopped out and walked around to the passenger side, pulling the door open making a soft creak echo through the air.

Azzi grinned as she walked toward the truck. “Chivalry’s still alive in the country, huh?”

“Only from the God honoring ones,” Paige said with a grin as she tipped her head toward the passenger seat.

Azzi slid in, and a second later she felt the dogs leaping into the truck bed, their tongues out in excitement for a car ride.

The drive through the country was slow, gravel dust trailing behind them as Stew and Beau barked here and there. Paige drove with one hand on the wheel and the other hanging out the open window, the breeze pushing through the cab carrying the smell of faint wildflowers.

They made their first stop at a modest brick house, the yard was overgrown and Mrs. Emory was already sitting on the porch with her cane resting next to her seat with a glass of sweet tea condensing beside a stack of dog-eared crossword puzzles.

“Well, look who finally decided to show up,” the older woman teased as Paige got out the truck, already heading toward the mower.

Before she started cutting the lawn Paige introduced Azzi to Mrs. Emory and the older woman practically ran in the house to get another fresh glass of sweet tea for Azzi. As Paige cut the grass Azzi stayed on the porch and the dogs were laying in the shade. It didn’t take long for Azzi to start hearing stories about grandbabies who lived in Austin and how none of them called enough. Azzi nodded, smiled and asked questions as she listened. She never once rushed the older woman when she went on side tangents and hid the faint blush when she mentioned that she’d be the perfect woman for someone as kind as Paige.

When Paige was putting up the mower and all the supplies Mrs. Emory reached out to pat Azzi’s hand as she held it with her own. “You’ve got a good stillness to you, sugar. City folk don’t always carry that so I want you to make sure you hold on to that.”

Azzi smiled warmly, putting her other hand on top of the older woman in sincerity before she answered honestly. “Thank you ma’am.” She paused as her eyes drifted to Paige getting distracted fixing something that was a walking hazard for Mrs. Emory, “But I have to be honest, I think I’m borrowing it.”

When they left, Paige wiped sweat from her face with the bottom of her shirt and mumbled something about needing a gallon of water and a slice of pie before opening the passenger door for Azzi.

The next stop was a corner house outside town where an older couple, the Langstons, waved from their porch swing like they’d been waiting all morning to see the baby blue truck pull up.

“We wrote you a list, darling,” Mrs. Langston said as Paige leaned over the railing smiling charmingly at her. “Tried to be good this time, didn’t we, Harold?”

Harold grunted but smiled, handing Azzi a notepad full of slanted handwriting and several reminders to “pick the good kind of peanut butter, not that no-sugar nonsense that Darla wants them to get.”

Azzi took the list and laughed when the older couple started bickering as she and Paige walked away. A few minutes later she was walking up and down the grocery store aisles with Paige next to her pushing the cart. She watched Paige talk to the butcher like an old friend, watched the way the clerk smiled at her extra wide when she asked for a bag of candy to sneak to the butcher's kid sitting in the back.

At one point, while they were standing in the produce aisle of a different store, Azzi reached for a tomato at the same time Paige was making their fingers brush. Paige pulled away, mumbling in her accent about cliches while Azzi laughed.

“Do you do this every week?” She changed the topic to put Paige out of her misery.

Paige shrugged, looking down to hide her smile. “Most weeks.”

“They said you’ve been helping them for years.”

“Yeah.” She shrugged again like it was no big deal. People don’t get easier with time,” Paige said. “Just more deserving of their community.”

They finished the errands, delivered the groceries, stayed long enough to watch Mr.Langston drink half a soda on the porch before he got yelled at and Mrs.Langston insisted they take a bag of fresh figs from the tree out back before they left.

By the time they climbed back in the truck, the dogs were panting from running around and immediately laid on their blankets. On the drive back Azzi leaned her head against the window and let her eyes drift closed. She wasn’t tired, almost the opposite actually. She felt so full of the constant moving that somehow had stillness attached to it that made her feel grounded and good about what she was doing.

…

Back at the farmhouse, the sun was slanting through the kitchen window as Paige worked on making lunch. The table was already scattered with the fruits and vegetables from their morning labor. Baskets filled with bright tomatoes, crisp greens still flecked with dirt, peppers, and the small basket of figs from the Langstons’ tree.

Paige chopped as they talked, the smell of sautéed garlic and herbs weaving through the air, mingling with the sweet musk of the ripe figs.

Azzi was perched on the kitchen counter, watching as Paige peaced together the last details of their meal. Paige caught her eye and grinned, holding up a fig. “You wanna try it.”

Azzi took it, biting into the juicy flesh of the fruit. The sweetness exploded on her tongue. It was rich with just the faintest tang and she blinked, caught off guard. “Shit,” Azzi murmured, taking another bite. “That might be the best thing I’ve ever tasted.”

Paige laughed, sliding a plate toward her. “Wait ’til you try what I cooked.”

Azzi grabbed a fork from next to her to taste the meal. Paige had given her a full plate of tender meat and roasted vegetables all directly from her farm. When she gathered an even portion of the food on the plate she raised the fork to her lips and immediately closed her eyes, savoring the layers of flavor. She couldn’t do anything but shake her head before Paige laughed and helped her off the counter so they could eat at the table.

They ate slowly, words flowing between them easily. Paige let Azzi talk about whatever came to her mind: adjusting to Dallas, the chaos, the weird little moments she missed about being at home. Azzi found herself rambling and unraveling more about herself than she thought she would to another human.

In the middle of her talking Paige grinned at her. “You got a little somethin’ right there, sweetheart.”

Azzi reached up, swiping awkwardly at the corner of her mouth, but her fingers missed the smear of sauce that was on her cheek.

Paige smiled and leaned in, brushing it away with the back of her hand gently. “There you go.”

Azzi looked down a little bashfully as Paige wiped the sauce off of her hand with a towel.

When they finished, Paige leaned back in her chair. “So how ya feelin’ about ridin’ those horses?”

“Ready as I’ll probably ever be.”

Paige led Azzi to the paddock where Rosie was waiting. The mare’s coat gleamed and her dark eyes regarded them with calm curiosity, remembering Azzi from that morning.

Paige handed Azzi a soft brush and demonstrated how she should brush along Rosie’s neck and flank. “Horses can feel your energy,” Paige said quietly, “so start soft. Let her know you’re trying to be her friend, not boss.”

Azzi took the brush and was a little tentative at first, but when she didn’t see the mare react badly she gradually relaxed, letting Rosie lean into the brush. She felt the warmth of Rosie’s body beneath her hands, the steady breathing, the quiet strength in her muscles.

“Good,” Paige encouraged, moving around to set the saddle and cinch the straps. When Rosie was brushed and fully tacked up Paige led her out of the padlock and into the open. “Ready for the mount?”

Azzi swallowed a little nervously, so Paige smiled at her trying to ease her nerves. “You’ll be ok darlin’ trust me.”

Azzi nodded and Paige stepped over offering her hand to help Azzi settle on Rosie’s back. When she got on Azzi’s body stiffened and her muscles coiled with nervous energy. Rosie shifted underneath her, sensing the tension making her ears flick back briefly.

Paige climbed up behind her, settling carefully on Rosie’s back. Azzi blinked slightly surprised at how close Paige now was.

Her presence was steady as she wrapped her arm around Azzi’s waist reaching forward to take the reins. Feeling Paige behind her eased the knot of tension in Azzi’s stomach muscles a little but the rest of her was still tense.

“Hey, just breathe with her. Loose arms and loose legs.” Paige reminded Azzi, “You’re safe up here, I won’t let anything happen.”

Azzi exhaled slowly, loosening her muscles as she coaxed herself into relaxing and allowing her shoulders to drop.

“Better,” Paige said, keeping her voice low, as Rosie began walking slowly.

True to Paige’s earlier statement, Rosie was a little bossy. Sometimes she nudged forward with impatient steps even though Paige was taking the reins slowly. Sometimes she’d just pause to remind them who was in charge making Paige laugh and tap her on the back leg to get going again.

Azzi leaned back into Paige’s chest, feeling the gentle squeeze of her forearms as she held the reins steady.

As they moved through the large field letting Rosie leisurely canter a breeze ruffled Azzi’s hair and she couldn’t believe how truly alive and present in the moment she felt. Completely connected to the rhythm of the earth around her.

Every so often, Paige made sure to check in asking Azzi, “You doing okay?” or “Want to take it a little faster?”

Azzi’s quiet smile was always the answer Paige needed, and when they did pick up their pace, the wind sang through the open fields more freely, carrying away the heaviness of the last few months of her life completely.

“Alright,” Paige said behind Azzi’s ear, “you ready to feel what Rosie can do?”

Azzi twisted her head slightly to glance back. “That wasn’t already her giving it everything?”

Paige laughed, her breath tickling the shell of Azzi’s ear. “Not even close.”

With a soft click of her tongue and a subtle nudge of the reins, Paige urged Rosie forward and the mare responded as she shifted into a gallop allowing all four of her hooves to be off the ground each time, letting her move more freely. The wind caught Azzi’s hair, loosening it from where it had been tied back, the strands flying behind her.

The unkept field was wide open ahead of them, the tall grass swaying in the wind like waves. Trees lined the edge of the horizon, their branches reaching out toward the sky like they’d forgotten how to stop growing.

Being unused to the speed Azzi leaned into Paige, her back pressing against her chest, the motion of the horse underneath them a rhythm she was trying to sync with in the moment. Paige adjusted herself with a subtle shift, steadying her frame more for them both as she absorbed Azzi’s weight and murmured above the wind, “There you go, just like that.”

Azzi's hands hovered over the reins, unsure of what to do with them considering Paige was controlling the horse, so Paige reached to wrap her fingers over Azzi’s, guiding them toward the reins.

“Let her feel you,” Paige said, speeding Rosie up a little bit. “Don’t grip, just hold.”

Azzi nodded, allowing Paige’s hands to keep hers in place where they were supposed to be on the reins. She could feel the softness of Paige’s palms interrupted by the occasional bump of a callous as Rosie galloped.

They rode like that for a while, Paige quietly correcting Azzi when she tilted too far, the reins shifting in her hands almost like a new language she was just learning to speak that Rosie was already fluent in. When Paige felt her relax into it, felt her hands adjust enough to guide Rosie without being fearful, she slowly drew one hand back and rested it on Azzi’s hip, keeping the other one on the reins loosely just in case.

Azzi felt the slight shift in weight from Paige removing her hands from on top of hers and adjusted her hold.

“You’re a natural,” Paige said over the wind, pride threading through her tone.

Azzi smiled as she got caught in the moment. The feeling of the wind in her hair, the weight of Paige’s hand on her hip, the warm sun beaming down on her face, the way Rosie moved underneath her. “I could get used to this.”

Behind her Paige smiled too with her eyes on the trail ahead, her mind spinning a little bit before she pulled Azzi closer to her.

The scene looked like something out of painting. The land rolling gold and amber, rippled with tall grasses that bent and shook in the breeze. Wild sunflowers popped up along someone’s fence line. Patches of purple thistle that looked a little unruly from being unkempt.

Azzi let her breath out slowly, closing her eyes for a second as they moved through it all just to feel. The rhythm of Rosie’s hooves like a heartbeat connected her to the earth. Azzi knew how much stress she’d been under but she didn’t realize how bad it’d gotten, how hard it had been for her to hold herself together, how tightly she’d been holding herself until now. Until the moment her back eased into Paige’s chest again and she let her body yield to the guidance of someone else.

She didn’t usually let people get close like this. Not physically and definitely not emotionally. She doesn’t remember when her life became a counterfeit form of nearness for other people to feel: cameras, fans, handshakes, interviews. All forms of life touching her without any intimacy. Conversations that held no depth, being looked at but not seen.

But here she wasn’t being watched and she didn’t have to perform. She wasn’t trying to be likable or strong and clever. She was just a girl on a horse, feeling the heat of a Texas sun and the warmth of a woman on her back, breathing in air that smelled like dry grass and sweet earth instead of fumes and grease.

Paige’s presence behind her wasn’t demanding anything from her and that made her feel more than a thousand people screaming her name ever could. So she shifted closer, leaning her head back gently against Paige’s collarbone. Azzi felt herself smile when Paige’s grip on her hip adjusted in response, wrapping her forearm around her torso.

After a few minutes there was a creek that shimmered ahead and Paige loosened her hold around Azzi’s torso to grab the reins and pull them gently bringing her to a slow stop near the grassy bank.

“Alright,” she said, jumping down first and holding her arms up for Azzi. “C’mon. I got you.”

Azzi hesitated. Not necessarily because she needed the help, but because she didn’t particularly mind the idea of Paige’s hands around her waist again and that made her a little warm. Still, she tried to play it cool, swinging her leg over Rosie before she let herself be guided down.

Paige’s hands lingered longer than necessary brushing against Azzi’s hips before she minded her manners and dropped her hands respectfully. “There you go.”

Azzi met her gaze smiling at her blue eyes before she cleared her throat softly and stepped back. Paige grinned, shaking her head, deciding to turn and unsaddle Rosie instead of saying anything, letting the horse wander toward the creek’s edge to drink.

Azzi wiped her forehead with the back of her hand. “I don’t know how you’re not melting. It’s September. Isn’t it supposed to start getting cooler?”

Paige chuckled as she kicked off her boots. “Texas doesn’t believe in seasons, darlin’. Just has moods here and there.” She peeled off her socks, rolling up her jeans. “Go on. Boots off. Water’s shallow and usually cold. Might do you some good.”

Azzi raised an eyebrow. “Cold?”

“Best kind,” Paige said, stepping in first.

Azzi followed her lead, untying the boots and pulling them off before doing the same with her socks and rolling the borrowed jeans up to her knees. She wasn’t expecting the water to be as cool as it was making her gasp a little. “Oh my God.”

Paige laughed. “You act like you ain’t ever met cold water before.”

Azzi narrowed her eyes and Paige smiled sweetly before flinging water towards her when she swiped her hand under the surface.

Azzi yelped and tried to give a poorly timed retaliation that ended up making her foot slip on a smooth creek stone. Before she could react her body tilted forward and she lost her balance a little Paige catching her before she fell in the water.

Their bodies collided gently and Azzi clutched her hands around Paige’s arms to steady herself, as Paige grabbed her waist. Her hat almost fell off in the commotion, but Azzi caught it before it fell in the water, laughing as she put it back on Paige’s head backwards this time.

Paige’s mouth curved. “Well, look at you gettin’ all bold.”

Azzi’s grin matched Paige’s as her cheeks flushed with something that wasn’t just from the heat. “Can’t let you lose your whole look.”

“You’ve got nice eyes,” Paige said suddenly. “That color’s beautiful...kinda like hazelnut coffee just before cream hits it.”

Azzi blinked a little caught off guard by the compliment. People didn’t usually compliment brown eyes so it made her chest a little warm. Sunlight danced in Paige’s calming blue eyes and Azzi found herself thinking that she wouldn’t mind swimming in them.

Her chest fluttered and so she did the only thing she could do to recover. She laughed and it came out a little flustered so she pushed Paige lightly, sending a splash of water toward her to get back at her.

“Okay, Casanova. Don’t make me push you all the way in.”

Paige took it with a smirk, looking down at the water dripping off her arm. “Might be worth it if you come with me,” she said, eyes still on her, low and easy.

Azzi tried not to smile too much, but failed so she rolled her eyes and turned around. As they waded deeper into the creek, laughing and playfully splashing one another with water, their shadows stretched out behind them. A breeze drifted across the surface tugging at the ends of Paige’s hair where it was still twisted into a bun underneath her hat.

She reached up, taking off her hat and biting down gently on the brim to hold it between her teeth. She pulled the ponytail holder from her hair with wet fingers and shook her hair out, running both hands through the damp waves to cool her scalp. The movement was casual and completely thoughtless but Azzi watched the light catch in the strands. Paige’s hair was a honey-blonde when it was wet and the long soft waves fell down her back in uneven layers.

When she was done she shoved the hat back on her head, the same way Azzi had returned it earlier and squinted toward the sky.

Azzi blinked twice trying to clear the fog from her brain. “You’re insane.”

Paige looked toward her with her eyebrows knitted together completely confused. “What’d I do?”

Azzi gestured vaguely at her. “That whole thing. Your hair’s down, backwards hat, standing knee-deep in a creek like a fucking postcard.” She added. “You’re like a picture perfect view of Southern charm. They’d probably put you on a recruitment poster if Texas wanted more lesbians.”

Paige shook her head in astonishment. “Is that that’s what I am? A recruitment poster?”

“Absolutely.” Azzi grinned. “Your energy’s a little more captivating out here. Should’ve come with a warning before I agreed to this.”

Paige rested her hands on her hips as she played into Azzi’s joke. “What should I have said?”

Azzi tilted her head trying to think of something. “Probably something like ‘Caution: Will ruin your city standards for women and convince you to fall for the Southern charm within 24 hours.’”

Paige whistled low. “That mouth of yours.”

“What about it?” Azzi asked, feigning innocence.

Paige shook her head, smiling to herself as she looked down a little bashfully. “It’s gonna get me in some trouble.”

She tilted her head toward the grassy bank, where there was a gentle slope beneath an old pecan tree. “C’mon,” she said, already walking to step out of the creek. “Let’s dry off before I end up showin’ you how unpleasant I look with a cold.”

Azzi followed behind her with the jeans sticking to her calves as they climbed out. Paige dropped onto the grass first with her legs stretched out in front of her and her arms braced behind her allowing her to lean back and look up through the tree limbs. Azzi took the spot next to her, close enough for their knees to nearly brush.

For a while, neither of them said anything. The horse's occasional huff filled the air as it measured around.

Azzi leaned back to mirror Paige’s position, pulling her hair out of her face as the light caught her eyes.

“You're really amazing at making me feel like the world’s not rushing me?” she stated casually.

Paige glanced over at her with a soft smile. “You’re good at flirtin’ without soundin’ like you’re flirtin’.”

Azzi laughed under her breath before deciding to lean back further. She closed her eyes and just felt the sun filtering through the branches hitting her skin, allowing the warmth to spread over her body.

The breeze whispered through the pecan branches above them, the leaves dappling sunlight across their shoulders. Somewhere nearby a cicada buzzed and the creek babbled on like time didn’t pass for it.

They stayed there for a while talking, getting to know each other's likes and dislikes, small things that made them tick, pet peeves, and favorite foods. It wasn’t until the sun softened and the sky began to tilt into the golden hour haze that Paige sat forward, brushing her hands on her thighs and stood up. “Come on,” she said, nodding toward Rosie, who was grazing a few yards away. “Let’s get her ready.”

Paige helped Azzi stand up, giving her time to brush herself off before they walked toward the horse. The sun caught in Paige’s damp strands of hair again and Azzi enjoyed it for a second before she had to blink herself back into reality.

Paige handed her a soft bristle brush to get Rosie ready to ride again. “Remember to start slow,” she said, guiding her to Rosie’s flank. “Go down the grain of the hair with even pressure.”

Azzi mirrored Paige, brushing along Rosie’s side.

“She likes you,” Paige said, watching Azzi with a small smile.

“Or she’s being polite.”

“Same thing, in her case.”

They worked together before Paige showed her each strap of the saddle, how the cinch should feel—firm, but not too tight around her coat. She showed her how to check the bit and bridle and when Rosie was ready, Paige patted her flank. “Alright, up you go.”

Azzi climbed into the saddle with a little more confidence this time around but she still hesitated a little when she had to shift her weight to be comfortable.

“You’re alright,” Paige said when she noticed. “She remembers you.”

Azzi nodded, settling her hands on the reins.

Then she felt Paige’s hands on her hips as she pulled herself up and onto the saddle behind her.

Azzi was ready for it this time, but she still felt the flutter in her stomach when Paige settled close to her.

They started off slow again with Azzi easing Rosie into her gait. She held the reins a little more naturally now, guiding them with small shifts in pressure as Paige stayed quiet behind her. She had one hand resting on the rein while the other was resting on the saddle horn, wanting to be respectful.

“Try takin’ her left,” Paige said near Azzi’s ear, the warmness of her breath skimming Azzi’s cheek. “Real gentle with the rein.”

Azzi followed the cue, and Rosie obeyed without so much as a complaint which surprised Paige. Rosies muscles shifted beneath them the sound of her hooves meeting the ground circling around them.

“See? There you go” Paige said, letting her hand fall away from the rein now. “You’ve got her.”

Azzi smiled to herself. The city had never felt this far away and she’d never felt this grounded.

The barn came into view just as the light started to stretch across the fields, dipping everything in the soft, amber haze that made it feel like the whole world had exhaled now that the day was winding down. Azzi guided Rosie the last few steps toward the barn before Paige swung down first. She turned around, offering to help Azzi down. “Come on, city girl.”

Azzi laughed and let Paige guide her down. Even though she knew the blonde was doing it on purpose there was nothing showy about the way Paige helped her. It felt genuine, not performative gallantry. She always made sure to keep a respectful grip just enough to steady her as she got down.

Together, they brushed Rosie down from the ride. Azzi dragged the soft bristle brush along her coat while Paige checked her hooves and murmured little reassurances when Rosie got a little bossy and let out a huff because she wanted to go to her pen. Rosie’s ears always twitched at their voices but overall she stayed relaxed, clearly satisfied with the ride.

The second they exited the barn, the dogs came running up the path clearly waiting for them.

Beau bounced with full-body excitement. His tail was wagging so hard his hips followed every movement. He barked once, circled Paige, and then ran over to Azzi like he’d missed her more than what was reasonable for someone he met less than 24 hours ago.

Stew was more composed and ran over to nudge his head against Paige’s thigh before slowly blinking at Azzi in greeting. Clearly happy to see them both.

They laughed and scratched behind eager ears before heading back inside.

The house was still cool and Azzi padded down the hall, having peeled off her boots by the doorway. After stopping in the guest room she disappeared into the bathroom.

Warm steam clouds filled the bathroom as she let the hot water run. Standing beneath it, a sigh slid from her chest before she even realized she was holding one in. Her muscles stretched and eased under the heat, the small ache of the ride sinking into a deeper satisfaction.

She thought about the entire day. About riding Rosie and how natural Paige’s hand felt over hers. About Paige’s laugh while they were in the creek, her blonde hair down, putting her hat back on backwards. For some reason the picture of that moment still sat with her, it felt so vivid and close when Azzi closed her eyes. Paige had charm, sure, the Southern kind that came wrapped in polite smiles and “sweethearts.” But there was depth behind it that Azzi couldn’t help but want to be on the other end of.

Azzi dipped her head underneath the water stream and stayed there letting the water drown out all of her thoughts and quiet everything. And when she stepped from under it, blinking the water from her lashes, her chest felt clearer.

She washed herself off from the long day before she put on soft clothes. A loose cotton t-shirt that Paige gave her and a pair of her own short pajama shorts. As she walked back toward the kitchen her damp hair was draped to one shoulder and it dripped onto the shirt slightly.

Paige was standing at the stove, already cooking something for Azzi again. Her hair was in a wavy ponytail and she had on a black loose shirt and checkerboard pajama pants. She hadn’t noticed Azzi yet so Azzi leaned against the doorway for a second, just taking her in. The way she looked, how she moved, how her clothes smelled, and just how at home in her skin she was.

“Hey,” Azzi said softly.

Paige glanced at her and smiled. “Hey yourself.”

“You’re really going to cook for me again?” Azzi asked as she stepped closer. “After the day you had?”

“Well, someone’s gotta feed you,” Paige said as she stirred something in the pan. “And you earned it.”

Azzi shook her head, slipping around her to stand near the stove. “Nope. Sit down.”

“What?”

“I’m cooking,” Azzi said, already grabbing a cutting board and pulling the drawer open for a knife. “You’ve been taking care of me all day. I can’t let someone who’s kind enough to let me stay in their home serve me like I’m helpless.”

Paige shook her head. “I can’t let a guest work sweetheart.”

“Well,” Azzi said, flashing her a smile that made her dimples pop as she took the wooden spoon from her hand, “I’m not really your guest anymore, am I?”

Paige laughed at the supposed loophole. “Well,” she said, “I’ll excuse my manners then.” She stepped away from the stove and grabbed a cold beer from the fridge before she dropped onto one of the chairs at the table, spreading her legs comfortably as she looked at Azzi.

Azzi glanced at her from where she was as she pulled the ingredients she wanted from the fridge. “Just gonna sit there and watch me?”

“Yup,” Paige said, tipping the bottle toward her lips. As she did her eyes sparkled with amusement and she couldn’t stop grinning.

Azzi rolled her eyes but didn’t stop herself from matching the grin as she turned around. She started cutting something on the cutting board and from the table, Paige watched her. Paige noticed the sudden ease in her posture, the way the tension that had stuck to her when she first approached the door had melted off of her. Aside from all of that Paige let herself respectfully think about how beautiful Azzi was.

Neither of them said much for a few minutes. The scent of onions and herbs filled the kitchen as Azzi moved comfortably through the kitchen now. Paige, for all her insistence that she’d sit back and let herself be taken care of, had disappeared out the backdoor with a promise to only feed the dogs and not touch any tools.

Azzi caught glimpses of the dogs running around through the kitchen window and the back porch light caught Paige’s figure as she bent down to fill the bowls. Beau circled her like a giddy child and Stew watched from the side more stoically.

“All taken care of and I promise I ain’t touch one tool” she said, as she stepped back into the kitchen.

“Mmm,” Azzi murmured, still focused on the pan. “You know, I don’t think I’ve been in one place for this long without checking my phone. Don’t think I’ve seen it since I got here.”

Paige grinned as she stepped beside her with her beer bottle in her hand. “And would you look at that, somehow, the world’s still turnin’.”

Azzi glared at her, but her smile gave her away.

Paige held out the beer. “Want a sip?”

Azzi shook her head. “I don’t think I like beer.”

Paige tilted her head. “You ever had one like this?”

“I don’t think I like any beer,” Azzi clarified.

“Well,” Paige said, stepping just a little closer into Azzi’s space, “don’t knock it 'til you try it.” She held out the bottle, her blue eyes twinkling as she looked at Azzi.

Azzi hesitated before she reached for it, her fingers brushing against Paige’s as she took the bottle and took a sip. Her face contorted and she shook her head no. “God,” Azzi mumbled, half-choking. “That tastes awful.”

Paige tried to hold in a laugh but she grinned as Azzi glared at her a little. She brought her hand up to rest on Azzi’s back, rubbing it a little to help soothe the cough. “That bad?”

Azzi passed the bottle back, wiping her mouth with the back of her hand. “How do people drink that on purpose?”

“Acquired taste,” Paige said, grinning. “Like black coffee or heartbreak.”

Azzi snorted. “Well, I’ve had both of those. Still not a fan.”

The beer fizzed in the bottle as Paige sat back in a kitchen chair. She lifted the bottle to her lips and asked, “So what are you a fan of, then?”

Azzi looked at her but didn’t answer right away. Instead, she kept her focus on the skillet in front of her.

The quiet filled around them and Paige studied Azzi and her silence at the question. Crickets had started to chirp outside, the sound of the night falling into rhythm with the soft sizzle coming from the stove.

There was something almost unreal about the scene. The city girl in short pajama shorts and a large t-shirt barefoot on the tile, cooking like she belonged in the country. Like the chaos she came from never existed. As she moved to finish up dinner Azzi started to speak to Paige calmly, listing off the small random things she ‘was a fan of.’ She knew she didn’t need to perform for cameras or sponsors here so she gave genuine answers just for the woman sitting across the kitchen with patient eyes and a crooked smile to hear.

She plated the food, nothing extravagant, just good, clean ingredients that she turned into something cooked with a little care. She turned and set a plate in front of Paige, their hands brushing in the transfer.

Paige looked up at her with a soft smile. “Thank you, sweetheart.”

Azzi sat down across from her and propped her elbow on the table letting her chin rest in her palm as they let the meal cool down. The conversation didn’t need a map. It wandered like a breeze through cracked windows, easy and open. Azzi was able to be unfiltered and open because she knew no one was waiting on a soundbite.

They were just two women in a house that knew how to hold secrets. Dogs padding in the hallway. A kitchen table that bore the wear of decades of conversation. And Azzi, feeling something she hadn’t let herself feel in longer than she could remember. Wanted, but not demanded. Seen, but not scrutinized.

Paige asked her questions without pressure, and Azzi found herself answering them without thinking too hard. Little things. Big things. Things she didn’t even realize she was still carrying from years ago. And Paige listened like she was completely captivated by every word that came out of Azzi’s mouth. Like she was storing each piece of information in her brain in a special place just for Azzi.

This made Azzi’s chest feel oddly full. Like if she spoke too loud, it might spill over.

So during the small times it got a little too much she took another bite of her food instead, chewing slowly, her eyes drifting to Paige, who caught her gaze and smiled around a mouthful of dinner letting her know it was alright to take her time.

Azzi would smile back at her and a few times she found herself thinking about how she didn’t want this to end. Not the meal. Not the night. Not this strange, perfect little pocket of peace they’d created together. She didn’t know where it was going with them if anywhere and she wasn’t in a hurry to figure it out.

When they were done the utensils clinked as Azzi reached to rinse their plates, but Paige got on her feet first waving her off. “Nope,” she said, setting her own plate on the counter with a thud that made the dogs perk up. “You cooked, I clean. Don’t go ruinin’ a perfectly good system.”

Azzi opened her mouth to argue about the point she made earlier, but Paige was already moving as she gathered everything and started humming something under her breath. Azzi found herself watching her again, and honestly it was getting a little insane how many times she just stared at Paige but she couldn’t help it. She was caught off guard by how effortless it all felt. How easy it was for her to be here with Paige.

“Thank you,” Azzi said quietly.. “For letting me be here. For…dinner. All of it.”

Paige glanced over her shoulder. “Ain’t nothin’ to thank me for, darlin’. You’re easy to have around.” She turned back around before adding, “I’ll head into town first thing in the mornin to get those parts for your car. Shouldn’t be too much trouble.”

Azzi nodded as a strange little knot formed behind her ribs. As the faint reminder that all of this had a ticking clock came rushing up.

She went down the hall to use the restroom and splash a little water on her face and by the time she stepped out, the house had settled for the night.

When Azzi walked toward the guest room Stew was already there again curled up on his dog bed with his tail thumping against the floor when he saw her.

Paige walked up to rest her shoulder on the doorframe. “He’s yours again tonight. Hope you don’t mind. Just want you to feel safe.”

Azzi smiled, leaning down to scratch behind his ears. “Not even a little.”

Paige reached for the door handle, locking it again politely.

Azzi looked up, her eyes meeting Paige’s in a silent conversation before she looked away. “Thank you Paige.”

Paige took a visible breath and nodded, her features unreadable in the dim light. She gave Azzi a mellow smile. “Sleep tight, city girl.” And then she shut the door gently behind her.

Azzi stood in the middle of the room taking in the details of the room so she could remember them. The bed was just like she left it that morning and she slid beneath the covers and let herself exhale.

She told herself it was just a farmhouse. Just a borrowed room.

But the way the air settled around her, the way the dog breathed steadily in the corner of the room, the way Paige’s voice lingered in the quietness of her brain and made her feel safe. All of it felt like more and Azzi didn’t feel like she needed to hold herself together to fall asleep. She was already drifting with a smile on her face.

…

The next morning Azzi blinked against the sunlight streaming into the room. Her limbs were heavy in the indulgent kind of rest you only got when you were peacefully in deep sleep. In the corner of the room, Stew was curled on his designated spot, the faded duck tucked beneath his chin.

Unlike the morning before, when he’d only blinked at her when she woke up, this time Stew stood up and stretched before padding up beside the bed, panting softly with his tongue out. He looked at her like he’d been waiting for her to wake up and was more than ready to start the day.

Azzi laughed, still half buried in the covers, and reached out her hand. “Morning, buddy.”

Stew pushed his head against her fingers a few times before stepping back and letting her sit up. She ran a hand through her hair, shaking her head at the fact that her bonnet fell off before she smiled at the way that waking up here made everything feel softer.

She took her time freshening up, rinsing her face in cool water, pulling on another pair of borrowed jeans that Paige left her and one of her own crop tops. Her body felt good. Limber, rested and present. There wasn’t an ounce of the usual static buzzing underneath her skin. She felt like a calm had settled into her bones like it was meant to be there.

When she stepped outside with Stew walking close on her heels, Beau was already in full swing, running around the yard with another stick. He paused when he noticed them, dropping the stick and barking once before he picked his stick back up and sprinted toward the trees.

Azzi’s eyes followed Beau for a few seconds before she looked over at Paige.

She was crouched over the front of Azzi’s car, elbow-deep in the hood with a towel slung over one shoulder. Her Levi jeans clung to her hips perfectly and she had on a simple black sports bra that hugged her shoulders, golden skin glowing under the sun.

Her boots were dusty and her hair was tied back but there were a few strands that had gotten loose that stuck along the edges of her temples. She looked like she belonged in a goddamn calendar and Azzi rolled her eyes at herself for how easy she felt.

Stew huffed beside her impatiently.

“Alright, alright,” she mumbled.

She started walking toward the car, her steps slower than Stew wanted them to be. The Texas heat was already rising despite how early it was and she saw the sweat clinging to Paige’s skin as the sun beat down on her. Azzi didn’t mind it one bit.

Without turning around, Paige’s voice drifted back toward her. “Morning, darlin’.”

Azzi smiled at the sound of her voice. “Good morning to you too.”

The sound of a tool hitting against metal was followed by Paige straightening up from under the hood. She wiped her forearm across her eyebrows, the front of her torso was streaked with a faint line of grime from where she’d leaned into the engine. The smudge only made her look more like herself, more fucking attractive than Azzi had the self control for.

“Took the old water pump out already,” Paige said as she tossed a wrench in the open toolbox at her feet. “It was damn near fossilized.” She looked at Azzi’s appearance and grinned lopsidedly. “How’d you sleep?”

Azzi let her gaze wander briefly along the curve of Paige’s sweaty shoulders, the way her long fingers looked even though they were a little dirty, at her wet torso. “Better than I have in months,” she answered honestly, still watching her from a few feet away.

Paige nodded, not commenting on the ogling as she wiped her hands on the edge of the towel slung over her shoulder. “Good,” she said simply, like it was the only thing she’d hoped for yesterday.

After a second, Azzi turned back around and headed into the house without saying anything. The dogs followed her halfway before veering off to chase each other in the side yard. Inside, the house was cool from the AC, and she filled a tall glass with ice water, watching the condensation bloom against the outside as she carried it back outside.

Paige was still at the car when she came back, crouched underneath the hood again. Azzi stepped into her space blocking the sunlight, letting the heat wash over her skin instead of Paige’s.

“Figured you could use this.”

Paige stood up and took the glass with a grateful hum. She took a large gulp saying, “Damn, that hits the spot,” before lifting it to her mouth again and tilting the cup further back.

Azzi’s eyes lingered again. She really didn’t mean to stare, but it was hard not to. The way Paige’s throat moved as she swallowed the water, the sun highlighting the toned lines of her stomach, the way her chest rose and fell under the sun. Paige’s body was built of work, carved by days like this one, under heat and honest work instead of gym lights and mirrors. Azzi was still looking when Paige’s eyes flicked toward her and caught her looking again.

Azzi’s breath got stuck when their eyes met. Paige didn’t say anything, just held her gaze and raised her eyebrow and grinned. Azzi blinked and looked down, tucking a loose curl behind her ear, suddenly very aware of how warm the sun felt on her skin.

Paige lowered the glass and leaned back into the open hood of the car. “Car should be back on the road in a few,” she said. “Assumin’ I don’t melt first.”

Azzi chuckled. “Guess I better keep the water comin’ then.”

“Guess you better,” Paige said, smiling without looking up but Azzi saw it all the same.

Azzi sank down onto the porch swing, the old chains creaking enough to make her presence known anytime Paige wandered if she was still back there. She tucked one leg underneath her and let the other sway gently.

Paige was still at the car, bent forward at the waist and her radio, the same old one she kept in the kitchen, dial always set between static and a country station had been brought out and was sitting on the porch, the faint sound of a woman’s voice crooning about someone who left and someone who replaced them and stayed.

Azzi leaned back and let her head rest against the wood slats, as she let her eyes trace everything around her. Even the breeze had gone soft, like it was taking its time to soak up the moment too.

She didn’t know when the shift had happened. When the tight coil in her chest had loosened to nothing, or when her body stopped bracing for the next jolt. But here, in this stretch of stillness, she could feel herself breathing steadily. She could feel her heart beating to soak in the moment instead of working to keep her alive.

The porch creaked again as she shifted, but everything else stayed still. The world didn’t rush forward. Nobody screaming, no handlers, no cameras trying to catch her off-guard. Just the sun, the sound of a socket wrench clicking, and a pair of dogs convinced the world was theirs and will forever be.

She looked out across the field, the tree line in the distance hazy with heatlines, and it felt like time had paused long enough to let her breathe in it. Deeply. Like her lungs had finally remembered how to fully expand.

And in the middle of it all was Paige, a sweet beautiful angel that offered her nothing but kindness. A woman who for all she was only wanted to be kind to people, not a single part of her trying to be anything she wasn’t.

It was strange, how stillness could feel like so much motion when it settled in the right places. And here, on this porch, in this heat, with this view, she didn’t feel behind or ahead. She just felt right where she was.

…

Later that day the sun had climbed high enough to make the morning golden, offering warmth that didn’t quite feel like goodbye yet—but it was. Azzi could feel it in her chest, settling somewhere between her ribs and her heart as she stood next to the car, her fingers brushing lightly over Beau’s ears one last time while Stew leaned calmly against her legs. The dogs didn’t know she was leaving, they just knew she felt different.

Breakfast had been good. Too good as they talked for a few hours. Which made this part worse.

Paige had walked next to her toward the car and the tank top she had thrown on when Azzi said something about a distraction was now clinging to skin. The towel was still thrown casually over her shoulder like she wasn’t in a hurry for anything and Azzi wished, selfishly, that she wasn’t either.

Paige opened the driver side door for Azzi with that same respect she always carried. Azzi hesitated, her thumb hooked in the belt loop of the jeans she was still wearing…Paige’s jeans, loose at the hips.

Paige’s eyes dipped down, noticing how Azzi was toying with them and the corner of her mouth curved into a smile. “Keep ’em,” she said. “They look better on you anyway.”

Azzi laughed under her breath, the sound too soft to be anything but genuine. She slipped into the driver’s seat and let her hands settle on the wheel for a second, not starting the car.

Paige leaned one hand against the open door frame, the sun catching in her hair. “It was nice meetin’ you, darlin’,” she said, easily. “Be safe out there. And try not to go knockin’ on too many farmhouses, alright? Everybody out here ain’t as charmin’ as I am.”

Azzi raised an eyebrow, smiling despite the weight in her chest. “So you finally admit it.”

Paige grinned like she’d been waiting for that all weekend. “Guess I do.”

For a few heartbeats, they just looked at each other, the sunlight slipping between them like a silent message being scent from the universe.

Azzi tilted her head in confusion. “So...do we hug? Or…I don’t know what happens now?”

Paige’s grin turned fonder. “C’mere,” she said, already taking a step back so Azzi could get out of the car.

Azzi stepped out and into Paige’s arms like she’d been waiting to do it all weekend. Paige was warm, still a little sweaty from working on the car and surprisingly Azzi didn’t mind, too caught up in how strong her arms felt around her.

“Sorry,” Paige whispered near her ear. “I’m a little gross.”

Azzi didn’t pull away as she rested her face near Paige’s neck. “You just fixed my car. No need to apologize.”

They held there for a few seconds longer than they probably should have, but neither of them seemed in a rush to break it. When Azzi finally stepped back, Paige’s hand lingered lightly on her waist before falling away.

Azzi nodded once, slipping back into the car and closing the door, with her window down. “Thank you,” she said, and they both knew it meant more than just the car repair.

Paige nodded. “You ever find yourself headin’ back this way,” she said, “I’ll be around.”

Azzi started the engine, the familiar hum somehow feeling more like an intrusion now. She looked out the window at Paige, at the dogs, at the farmhouse still holding onto the morning like it wasn’t ready to let go either.

“I’ll keep that in mind,” she said. Her hand moved to the gear shift. But she didn’t put it in drive.

Paige caught the hesitation and leaned down a little, resting her forearm against the open window. “Somethin’ wrong?”

Azzi glanced down at her lap, then back up. She was unsure for a second, until something steadied in her. The worst Paige could say was no and for some reason in her chest Azzi didn’t feel like she would.

“I don’t want this to be the end of whatever this is,” Azzi said honestly. “I haven’t seen you use it once this weekend, but maybe I could get your number?”

Paige’s grin grew, and her eyes sparkled a little bit. “I was hopin’ you’d ask.”

Azzi unlocked her phone and handed it to Paige. She typed her number in and then handed it back back to Azzi without saving a name, leaving it blank.

“Figure you can name me whatever suits me,” Paige said with a bashful shrug. “Farmer girl, dog wrangler, that sweaty woman who fixed your car...”

Azzi laughed softly, her cheeks feeling a little warm as she typed something in and hit save before locking the phone and putting it down.

Paige raised an eyebrow. “Well?”

Azzi smiled at Paige sweetly. “You’ll just have to text me and find out.”

That earned her a shake of the head and a grin from Paige as she stepped back. “Be safe out there, beautiful,” she said again, quieter this time. “I know the city roads ain’t as kind to you as this one.”

Azzi looked to memorize this moment. The curve of Paige’s jaw in the sun, the towel still looped over her shoulder, her boots planted in the dirt like she’d been born to be connected to the earth.

“Thank you Paige,” was the only thing Azzi could offer back, the words hinting at everything she couldn’t quite say.

Then slowly she eased the car down the makeshift driveway. Paige stood where she was letting her eyes track the car until she couldn’t.

At the same time Azzi checked the rearview mirror once. Then again and Paige was still there, still watching her drive away.

Azzi looked through the mirror until the farmhouse slipped out of view, and she had no choice but to keep going forward, the sound of the engine a little less harsh now, softened by the memory of something good behind her and something better waiting for her.

[redrage71890]

Backing Voice (Yan! KPDH x Fem! MC) Part 3

Synopsis: A cancelled live performance and a wave of demonic energy, pushes our girl to her breaking point. All the while her new acquaintance wishes to hear that voice sing once again.

Genre: Fluff, Angst, Slow Burn, Yandere

CW: Medicated Drug, Panic/Anxiety Attack

Prologue, Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4

Word Count: 3.2k A/N: Quite literally thank you guys enough for your support for reading this fic. Also this is just my interpretation of the Saja Boys bc they're basically just their stereotypes in the movie. The interpretations are based off on how other fics write them.

————————————————————

A couple days have passed since (Y/N)‘s encounter with Jinu, she’s had plenty of work to fill her time. Too much in her opinion. The busy schedules and organising interviews and shows for the girls to appear in, not to mention preparing for the live performance coming. Golden featured more of her singing which is a problem for her at the moment.

Her hands won’t stop shaking. The bags under her eyes were deeper than before. Faint red pink lines were forming on her neck and arms from her constant scratching nails. Her eyes twitched whenever she’s met with a bright screen.

She’s at her breaking point.

Tonight is the first live performance and she’s been working nonstop. Bobby was nothing like her current state, though he’s been doing this longer than her. He’s much more relaxed and significantly less stressed than her. But he’s not the one who also does the live backing vocals.

Ever since meeting Jinu, she felt her nerves like usual when talking, but she was happy in the moment for an unknown reason. Maybe it’s because someone acknowledged her singing outside of her space. Perhaps it was a chance of meeting someone new who isn’t familiar as her being a manager for HUNTR/X.

Who knows.

(Y/N) just knows that she wants outside of her bubble.

Interrupting her thoughts was Bobby who came to her side, with a water bottle in hand. “You don’t seem to be going well (Y/N). Are you sure you’re feeling alright?” Bobby worriedly questions.

Time was moving way too fast. It was already rehearsing time for the show.

“Y-Yeah! I’m fine Bobby! Thanks for the water, I’ll tell the girls their on in five!” Quickly grabbing them water and speed walking away as fast as she can.

Pulling along her collared shirt trying to free up more air in her lungs. All the air she was breathing escaped way too quickly. Her chest was hurting like she was hit by a truck.

‘It’s fine it’s fine it’s fine! Just one performance.’

(Y/N) knows they’re eager to turn the honmoon gold, but the world isn't ending anytime soon. A break should be reasonable enough as it is! For gods sake they JUST finished a tour literally a couple DAYS ago.

Take. A. Break.

‘Please….for me I beg…’

Reaching their changing rooms she gently knocks on the door. Hearing a small noise coming and the rattles of the handle, she’s met with the wondering familiar eyes of Zoey and Mira.

“(Y/N)! What’s up!” Zoey greets her as she lunges herself at her body. Encasing her in a tight hug. Thrusted to wake up with her being crushed by the ever sweet hunter. “Zoey! You’re crushing her!” Mira thankfully ushers Zoey to let go. Taking deep breathes to regain her lost oxygen, she glared at the sweet girl, only to be unseen by her.

"*Huff* You're on in five *huff.* Can you relay that to Rumi? *huff* I need to prepare myself."

"Okay. But are you alright? You haven't spoken to us in a while. Since the tour ended. We've been thinking that we should go to dinner sometime, if you're up for it." Mira questions, picking up on the beads of sweat on her forehead.

"We're just worried about you. You kinda avoiding us. W-We just want you to be okay! We can watch some turtle videos if you'd like? Something for us to unwind to. You don't have to worry about singing for a while once this is over."

"Yeah sure sure. Yeah. I'm fine. Just, get ready for the show. Don't worry about me. My voice is fine."

Staggering out immediately after, their worried comments falling on deaf ears.

Hurriedly speed walking towards one of the sound guys and taking a microphone for herself. Digging into one of her pockets and pulling out a container with small individual capsules. Popping one open and picking out a pill inside before throwing it in her mouth. Snapping the water open and chugging half of the bottle to push down the medication.

Her breathing began to calm and her mind felt clearer. But her hands wouldn't stop shaking. A strange mix of calm and nerves waring in her mind and body. Pushing through those feelings and thoughts, her ears pick up the instrumental beginning to play, she puts the mic near her lips.

"I was a ghost, I was alone (Hah)"

"Eoduwojin (Hah) abgilsog-e (Ah)"

"Given the throne I didn't know (Hah) how to believe (Hah)"

"I was the queen that I'm meant to be (Ah)"

Rumi's voice unnerving and only building up to more for later. (Y/N) breathily adding to her words and adlibbing along.

"I lived two lives, tried to play both sides"

"But I couldn't find my own place"

"Called a problem child 'cause I got too wild"

"But now that's how I'm getting paid, kkeut-eobs-psi on stage"

Layering her voice to harmonise with the girls like usual. Holding back until later.

"I'm done hidin', now I'm shinin'"

"Like I'm born to be"

"We're dreamin' hard, we came so far"

"Now I believe"

Dragging her voice along for the build up, but it more vocal in volume than usual.

"We're goin' up, up, up"

"It's our moment"

"You know together we're glowing"

"Gonna be, gonna bе golden"

"Oh, up, up, up"

"With our voices"

"Yeong-wonhi kkaеjil su eobsneun"

"Gonna be, gonna be golden"

Echoing the words of Rumi and her voice. She continues to push.

"Oh, I'm done hidin' now I'm shinin'"

"Like I'm born to be~"

"Oh, our time, no fear, no lies"

"That's who we're born to be~!"

Raising her voice high to match Rumi but ends up subtly going higher than her. Quickly realising her mistake and at the same speed pushing down her loaded hurls of self-deprecation.

"Waited so long to break these walls down"

"To wake up and feel like me"

"Put these patterns all in the past now"

"And finally live like the girl they all see"

Her silence in the verse made her vulnerable to her deprecating voices in her head. Just enough for a burning sensation to tingle at the sides of her mouth and neck.

Whispering a stream of pleas to quiet her mind.

"No more hiding, I'll be shining"

"Like I'm born to be"

"'Cause we are hunters, voices strong"

"And I know I believe~"

Collecting herself again with continuously shaking hands.

"We're goin' up, up, up!"

"It's our moment"

"You know together we're glowing"

"Gonna be, gonna be golden"

"Oh, up, up, up"

"With our voices"

"Yeong-wonhi kkaejil su eobsneun"

"Gonna be, gonna be golden"

'When does this end....'

"Oh, I'm done hidin', now I'm shining"

"Like I'm born to be~!"

"Oh, our time, no fears, no lies"

"That's who we're born to b-"

'Huh?'

The music suddenly stops as she abruptly ends her note to avoid being heard. Collapsing to her knees and clawing at her neck as the burning turned into an itching sensation.

She can hear Bobby and Mira worrying about Rumi, while she dismisses and tells them to restart the part.

Scrambling up to her feet and halts her scratching with the mic at her lips again.

"I'm done hiding"

"Now I'm shining"

"Like I'm born to b- (cough)"

Stopping her voice and falling to her knees again. A whirling nauseating pain flows through her head. Gripping her temples and clawing down her face to the added pressure.

Just picking up that Rumi wanted to take five, her heart raced even faster.

She couldn't hear anything around her. A white ringing noise filling her ears. Clawing at her ears with her breathing hastening in speed.

"Stop stop stop stop stop stop stop stop stop stop stop stop stop! Shut up be quiet. Shut up. Be quiet. Shut up. Be quiet. Go away. Go away... (hick)"

A waterfall of tears pour down her face as she quietly sobs, while hyperventilating through her tight chest. Her clawing actions stop at her neck, feeling the sweat sticking to her skin like slime.

The space was unnaturally empty for a busy stage trying to ready for a live performance.

Nobody to see the jagged patterns clawing at her neck. Reaching its way over her mouth.

Scratching and scratching at the patterns while her tears begin to extinguish the burning feeling every time it drips down her chin.

But she suddenly stops.

A silencing sensation abruptly halts her breakdown.

Something demonic was sent through the honmoon.

————————————————————

Her prays were finally met when she heard that Bobby cancelled the performance that night. Visualising her appearance was enough for her to text Bobby about leaving early. She felt horrible to leave everything for Bobby to handle.

But she was in absolutely no condition to help.

Making her own way back to the HUNTR/X tower, she sped her way towards her bathroom. Finally taking a look at herself in the mirror.

'Its still you. At least...'

Chuckling to herself and tracing her lips and along the lightning like patterns. Her usually shaggy short (f/c) hair being an absolute mess with baby hairs sticking to her face around her eyes and cheeks. Peaking through her bangs, staring back at her was a prominent gold and (f/c) tired gaze. The red veins on her sclera being bright and obvious to her crying fit earlier. The faint purple patterns reaching down to her neck, wrapping around the area were her vocal cords are.

Unbuttoning her top and disrobing her wrinkled clothes, discarding them in on the floor. Ruffling her hair and switching on her shower. Dowsing her body with cold water and washing away her tear stained cheeks.

Her first moment of silence since her time at the park.

'I wonder how Jinu is doing...'

(Y/N) has been thinking of the demon, why he was on the surface in the first place. If she considered demons nature, it wouldn't be anything good.

But she had a feeling that's not the only reason being here.

Granted she has no explanation for her reason. And additionally, she knows nothing about Jinu. He just awkwardly complimented her voice and she's the one who left early and brushed off his want for conversation.

'Damn it all! Stupid anxiety!'

Mentally cursing herself aside, she turns off her shower and steps out to wrap her body in a towel.

*Ping!*

She heard her phone alert go off. Drying off her body and stepping into her bedroom, she checked her messages and wasn't sure what to really do.

Zoey: Hey (Y/N)! We're going out for dinner since Rumi came back :D We'll save you a seat don't worry! Zoey: XXX-XXX-XXXX

(Y/N) felt no energy to go out with the girls. But she'll admit, she is worried for Rumi.

Her voice cracking pretty recently is probably making her even more stressed. Perhaps the honmoon turning gold is more important to her than she thought.

But she isn't sure if she's fit to go comfort Rumi.

Her body just feels drained.

"(sigh) What I do for these girls."

Rummaging through her cupboard and lazily throwing on a hoodie and pants. Roughly brushing her hair to to seem less messy and throwing on a pair of sneakers. Grabbing nothing else but her phone.

Entering the streets of Seoul and ignoring the slide comments of some about the cancelled show.

She felt reallllly bad for Bobby.

She's supposed to be one of the managers, but here she is wandering through the night streets and making her way to the girls. Not even bothering throwing her hoodie on because she was just tired.

Not able to pay attention to her surroundings.

*Bump!*

“Oof!” Staggering on her feet she turns around to meet the eyes of the other.

But a gentle smile meets her tiresome face, belonging to the familiar demon and his dreamy brown eyes.

”Jinu.”

”(Y/N)…”

Said demon felt relief to see her again. Her voice has been living in his mind rent free. It made him feel like a person again. Like he wasn’t a being that feeds of the souls and the shame he too feels from his previous actions.

He wants to hear her sing again.

“What are you doing here?” (Y/N) questions tiredly rubbing her temples. “I wanted to see you again.“ Jinu answers without a doubt. Though he can’t exactly be honest with her. He doesn’t even know if she’s a hunter, or whether once she knows his plan, if she’ll just slice him without hesitation.

But whether she’s a hunter or not, he still wants to see her.

”That’s a bit strange, don’t you think? W-We just met a couple days ago.” (Y/N) blankly states. Even though she wanted to see him again, it was still weird in her head. Jinu on the other hand sweat dropped at her statement.

”One can say that, but I don’t see it that way.” His response wasn’t what she imagined. But to be fair, she wasn’t sure what to think of him. “Ever since I heard you sing, I couldn’t get your voice out of my head. It’s made me…. want to see you again…” Jinu tried to describe how he felt, but even he couldn’t explain it using words.

He just felt comforted yet haunted by her tone and song.

It made him forget.

And it made him curiously want more.

”Hmm…if that’s how you feel.” (Y/N) shrugs her shoulders while muttering to herself. It feels weird to hear someone compliment her, or at least try to.

“But to be fair myself, I liked our little chat before. Even if it wasn’t much.” Her anxiety was subsiding unnaturally. She really did like being in Jinu’s presence.

That little statement was enough for Jinu to look at her like an excited puppy. "Perhaps.....maybe...we could talk more?" The words felt foreign from her mouth, her anxiety still present that just makes her second guess what to say. Nervously scratching the back of her neck.

Jinu gleams at her. "Then, why don't we go now?"

(Y/N) whips her head at him again with a widened expression.

Now? She can't. The girls are waiting for her, she has to know what happened. Something spread a demonic energy through the honmoon. And last she checked, demons don't do that. A tare feels different than what that was.

Whether she likes it or not...

She's considered a hunter.

"Sorry Jinu, I actually have som-"

"Jinu! Buddy, where have you been?"

Cutting her off was the sound of a deeper voice coming from behind Jinu.

Glancing up she catches four figures gathering behind the dreamboat. Two of them had pink hair but in different cuts and hairstyles, while the another had bright cyan underneath a yellow hat and the last having long silver grey with bangs that covered his eyes.

Their faces were alluring. Sculpted by the gods with unfair favouritism. Going all the way down to their bodies and from the sound of it, their voices too. Though even for (Y/N), they seemed way too perfect to be human.

'A group of demons? This can't be for a good reason...'

In the back of her mind, (Y/N) didn't want to fully trust Jinu. His random purpose on the surface is enough to justify her lingering doubts. But she pushed them aside just because she genuinely enjoyed the short time they had talking. Even if it was mainly him trying to talk to her.

The group of boys seemed to rag on Jinu about something like 'dancing' and 'practice.' Which only brought one answer to her mind.

"Are you guys dance training for something?"

Her voice bringing on five sets of eyes on herself. The one with the longer pink hair smirked upon meeting her questioning gaze, unnoting her own flinching back into herself.

"Why yes, are you curious?" He approached closer into her space, shivering at his invasion and taking a small step back to create distance. Jinu notices her uncomfortable expression, coming up to the pink headed demon to prevent going forward.

"Romance, you're making her uncomfortable." Halting his friends actions made the now named 'Romance' stare at him with a bit of surprise. Before Jinu turns his attention back on (Y/N) with a confident smile.

"We are actually practicing. We're debuting as a new boy group tomorrow." His answer brought more surprise to (Y/N)'s face.

"A boy band? I mean....you have the looks for it, can't say anything about everything else." She was just muttering to herself at this point. But Jinu heard what she was saying, taking it as a good sign for him.

"How about you come watch us perform tomorrow."

"Hmm? You sure?"

"Of course, we'll save a special spot just for you."

Well....considering that the girls are probably gonna have the day off tomorrow because of the cancelled show, it'll be good to keep an eye on these demon boys.

As long as they aren't hurting people, she has no reason to send them back.

But another reason popped into her head.

Sighing to herself she just hums and nods her head. "Sure. Why not?"

Jinu's eyes lighted up like fireworks at her response, internally pumping his fist in succession.

"Great! Here's a flyer for tomorrow." Handing her a pretty pastel flyer with the name 'Saja Boys' on the front with a logo of a lion plastered on the centre.

"Thanks. I'll see you tomorrow then." Gently smiling at them before waving a hand and continuing her walk.

Unbeknownst to her, the Saja Boys had differentiating reactions and thoughts.

They were quite intrigued by her. Jinu hasn't been fully present since his meeting with this girl, which got the others curious. He said he couldn't describe the feelings that ignited inside when he heard the girl sing.

Baby and Mystery mainly brushed it off and paid no mind to it. While Abby and Romance were slightly interested but never thought about it further.

That is until they did meet.

And my oh my...

They kinda understood?

(Y/N) from a first glance appeared quite pretty if Romance said so himself. Her baggy attire making her more relaxed and casual than the dolled up girls that he saw around before. But even that extenuated her natural beauty. But her speaking voice seemed to make Romance understand Jinu's fixation just a little bit more. Something melodic about her undertone drew his mind to a strange white noise. It wasn't anything mind numbing or dreadfully empty, it was calming.

Mystery isn't one for speaking but his heart skipped a beat hearing her casually talk. That haunting tone in her voice peaked his interest out of curiosity. But what caught him most was her eyes. A (f/c) gaze with a rim of gold around her iris. How come Jinu didn't mention that?

Abby was curious for sure about this (Y/N) chick. Wondering what the deal is with her said voice. But he was quite intrigued upon meeting the quietly shy girl. How can such a beautifully described voice come out of her?

Baby wasn't listening majority of the time Jinu was yapping about this girl. What was so important that it took that much brain space in that head of his, to the point that it looked like he was in a trance. But even meeting the girl herself, he'd rather see how things play out now that he himself has caught a glimpse of what is so intriguing.

Oh what will happen indeed...

————————————————————

Edit: Fun fact, the whole panic attack part is based of one that happened to me. My whole anxiety back when I was in school basically inspired this idea in the first place. Also I have no idea why I gave Romance more time than the others, it just happened |(￣3￣)|

Tags: @kitsune-05, @the-bookish-artist, @apelepikozume, @shoopershtar, @ravvilicous, @valeriele3, @vikc, @lasa27, @chipster-321, @greensunflowerjuna, @napbatata, @that-one-girl2020, @tagmepls, @thoughtfulbananaduckcroissant, @minepugs, @crescent-z, @colorfulgardenerduck, @poem-bee, @deityofprocastinating, @0-undead-0, @gremlinartstudio, @jessica-mcd, @strayharmony943, @fruityg0rl, @cherryblossomfox, @aominehaven, @kyxmlii, @ssaischilling, @sweaterkitty-fluff, @historygeekqueen, @satansdaughter123, @theall-seeingone, @nvmkyuu, @amenabii, @julianne1024, @doggyteam2028, @nisarelle, @theall-seeingone, @hi-itsmee28, @celesteelysia, @maritheillusion, @levifiance, @kangsae-byeokfan, @hornehlittleweeblet12, @scara-simp69, @fancyhawk45, @shqyou, @enerofairy, @futuristicdefendorfart, @scentwombatarcade, @eliengoddes, @irethepotato, @sra7riddle-malfoy, @jessica-mcd

[tobesolnelyx]

seeing all these baby daddy shaunana agenda got me thinking abt babydaddy nat, is it possible to rq something like that w herPLSSS i def see her as a girl dad nd dont worry this time im not giving u my non-existent first born in return but PLSZS BABY DADDY NAT

— baby daddy fratboy!natalie scatorccio x fem!reader

a/n: baby daddy fratboy lottie is next 😛

summary: she didn’t mean for that to happen. and yeah… she’s terrified but she tries. for this kid. for you. fluff. pregnant!reader. g!p character.

warnings: slight NSFW - MDNI

KNOCKING YOU UP...

This wasn’t supposed to happen at all.

What’s more, Nat was so terrified of even the thought of having a child that she always, always, carried condoms with her. She didn’t even trust girls, who said they were on the pill. She had to check for herself that she was protected.

And maybe she was careful… but in the end, she still ended up in bed with you, drunk and high like never before.

Later, Nat tried to convince herself it was because you looked so good that night. She had watched, no, been tortured, by the sight of her girl dancing all night. It was only natural that after another bottle and who the fuck knows how many joints, well… she got hard just looking at you. Painfully hard.

She tried to hide it, adjusting her too tight jeans, scanning herself with already bloodshot eyes. And just when she thought she looked fine, the erection wasn’t visible, and she was calming down...

You came and sat on her lap.

“Jesus Christ,” she muttered, squirming beneath you.

You started rambling something about some rumors, sipping your drink and breathing heavily from dancing. Finally, at some point, you shifted, felt the bulge, and went silent, staring at her.

Neither of you had ever been that turned on by each other before. So naturally... Nat completely forgot about the condoms. She beat herself up over it afterward, feeling guilty in a way she couldn’t quite shake.

So yeah, Nat panicked when you came into her room at the frat house and told her you were pregnant. For a moment, you didn’t even get a response. She sat on her bed, looking at you like she was trying to reject what she’d just heard.

“I need a walk,” she finally choked out, and grabbing her leather jacket, she practically ran out of the house, leaving you alone in her room. The door slammed behind her. Jackie and Lottie were home, and the fact that Nat bolted like she was on fire, even though her girlfriend was there, was... at the very least, suspicious.

That evening, you ended up crying into Lottie’s shoulder, while Jackie tried to reassure you that Nat would come back and that everything would be okay.

And indeed, just when you were almost asleep, propped up against the headboard and wrapped in every blanket Jackie's hands could reach earlier that day, Nat returned. Sober, which was already good. She smelled like cigarette smoke and was soaking wet, so you figured it must’ve been raining outside.

She collapsed next to you, slowly resting her head on your lap breathing like she’d just run a marathon. She didn’t have the courage to look you in the eye but she was there. At least.

“I’m sorry,” she whispered, her throat tightening. “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have…”

A moment of silence. Nat shifted, pressing a kiss to your hand, the same one that just seconds ago had been tangled in her hair.

“I’m really sorry, baby.”

PREGNANCY...

Nat was terrified of absolutely everything related to your pregnancy. She treated you like something incredibly fragile, as if she might break you with just a careless wave of her hand. And honestly, it was hard to blame her, with her parents, well… she definitely didn’t win the lottery.

The first few weeks were filled with choking guilt, a constant, gnawing fear buried deep in her mind, and a complete lack of clue about what to do.

Her first goal was to apologize. You weren’t holding a grudge, but Nat needed full, verbal confirmation that you weren’t angry she ran out so suddenly. And truthfully, she was just embarrassed.

Flowers became an everyday thing. She didn’t have much money, so she’d ask Lottie to lend her some. Just for now, she knew she was racking up a debt. Though Lottie never, not even once, asked to be paid back during your pregnancy.

That’s when Nat realized she needed a job. Anything, just to give you and the baby decent living conditions, not a dorm room or a frat house reeking of weed.

Maybe she didn’t know how to be a good father. Didn’t know how to take care of you or the baby, and kept wondering how the hell she wasn’t going to fuck everything up. But one thing was certain: she wasn’t going to let you live like that.

She clung to every opportunity, until eventually she landed a job at a gas station, working for next to nothing. But it was something. Enough to rent even the tiniest apartment. She’d come home in the morning, taking night shifts, because she decided college could wait. Right now, it was all about you and the baby.

She’d find you in the bathroom getting ready for class, step up behind you and gently wrap her arms around you, pressing a kiss to your neck.

“You don’t need all that shits and makeup, you look beautiful,” she’d mumble, barely staying on her feet after working all night.

You always wanted to protest, you’d literally been throwing up twenty minutes ago and probably looked like hell but she’d always say the same thing:

“You’re still my most beautiful girl.”

She’d go to sleep after that, only to wake up around noon and cook lunch for when you got home. She had never cared about nutrition or any of those stupid shits before, but now she learned how to cook.

Because you needed to eat well. She did the grocery shopping, cleaned the place while you were out. Even if you didn’t spend most nights together, Nat made sure the fridge was stocked and the house spotless.

Nat, who texted you basically every hour, asking if you were okay, if you’d eaten, if you managed to shower. Maybe she should come over and help? What should she pick up on the way back? Maybe you two could go out this weekend?

Honestly, if she could’ve installed a tracking app on your phone, she would’ve.

Natalie who stopped spending money on weed. Every time her hands itched to go get some, she went to the store instead and bought baby clothes or toys. Which eventually led to a mountain of things for the baby who wasn’t even born yet.

Nat, who decided she wouldn’t pay anyone fucked up amounts for a crib and one day, after measuring everything carefully, built one herself, covering the living room in sawdust. She stood at the end of it all, sweaty in a tank top, and gave a proud nod.

“I told you you’d figure it out,” you said with a soft smile and she scrunched her nose.

You’d say that. Because you had to be the one to reassure Nat that she could do it. That she wasn’t like her father. That nothing her parents had done defined her as a parent now. That she was going to be so much better, and that you’d learn it all together.

She’d nod. And indeed, with every tiny onesie she bought, every piece of furniture she put together, every doctor’s appointment she went to, she grew a little less afraid. A little less afraid of that deep love and attachment for a tiny human who wasn’t even here yet.

She was still nervous about touching your belly, like she might somehow hurt you. You’d take her hand and place it over the spot where the baby was kicking. Her eyes would widen, and for a moment she’d stare at you in shock.

“You feel that?”

“Christ,” she’d mutter, instantly adjusting herself on the bed and pressing her hands gently to your stomach. “Someone’s kicking hard.”

She’d smile softly to herself. And for the first time, she kissed your belly.

For the first time in her life, Nat felt a bit of peace. No parties, no chaos. All the student drama and arguments suddenly felt blown out of proportion. She found calm in work, in grocery trips, in quiet evenings with you, lightly stroking your bump.

Nat, who tied your shoes and helped you get dressed when it started becoming too painful. You wanted so badly to stay independent, but whenever she heard even the smallest groan, she was right there.

“Give it to me,” she’d say, kneeling in front of you and taking your socks.

“I can do it myself,” you’d grumble.

“I know you can,” she’d smile, slipping them on three times faster than you could. “But I’m helping anyway.”

Nat, who stopped smoking in the apartment. She still went to the frat house sometimes, but she’d come home earlier now. She physically couldn’t stand being away from you. Especially when you’d stop replying after a certain hour, and she knew you’d fallen asleep.

“It’s me,” she’d whisper, slipping into bed and wrapping her arms around you. You stirred, but when you felt her familiar hands, you started drifting off again.

“It’s just me. Go back to sleep, baby.”

Because maybe Nat ran away at the very beginning. But in the end, she always came back to you. And that you were sure of.

BIRTH...

The moment your water broke, Natalie panicked again. Only for a moment, because, truth be told, she had planned everything out well in advance, just so she’d know exactly what to do. For once in her life, she was prepared. It just…caught her a little off guard.

The entire time, she bombarded you with questions if you're not dying..yeah. Even her italian accent slipped out.

Even after you were already at the hospital, taken over by a whole team of doctors and nurses, she'd stil lighlty panicking. When you finally snapped at her, sweating from the effort and pain, Nat realized she probably wasn’t helping at all and stepped back. A nurse gently escorted her to the waiting room, saying it would take some time and that maybe she should come back in a few hours.

Nat didn’t hear a word of it, her mind was still with you. It was already late, and she had made up her mind: she’d sleep outside the delivery room if that’s what it took.

At first, she paced nervous circles down the hallway, her footsteps echoing off the walls, until eventually she landed on one of the hard plastic chairs, drifting off to sleep. It was late. Nat was exhausted.

In the middle of the night, they called her in, and not even drugs had ever jolted her like the words that your daughter is here.

She stood frozen in the middle of the room, eyes scanning the tiny baby in your arms like she couldn’t quite believe that this child, this life, existed in part because of her.

“Do you want to hold her?” you asked, your voice hoarse, but gentle smile playing on your lips.

Natalie hesitated. Then she reached out and took the little one from you, her hands were shaking, but she managed to hold on her kid. The fragile body still swollen, red, impossibly small.

And as Natalie looked down at the baby, she murmured something quietly under her breath. A secret, just between her and her daughter.

“I’ll never hurt you. I promise," words she never heard but wished. "You're safe with me."

FIRST MONTHS...

Nat wasn’t home most nights, and as much as it pained her, she couldn’t always be there to help. But it was a completely different story in the mornings when you had to go to class, and sometimes left her alone with the baby.

“I can take her with me…” you’d offer, but Nat would already be silencing you with a kiss.

“You’ve done enough. I’ve got this,” she’d say every time, pulling you close, like she was trying to show her gratitude just for you being there.

She had to learn. Learn how to hold the baby, how to change her, how to feed her. When nap time was (that part came easily, since she could nap too), and when the baby just wanted to play or needed attention. At first, when the little one started crying, Nat would panic convinced she’d done something wrong. But then you’d walk in, reassuring her she was doing great. That this kind of thing just happened.

Nat, who sometimes brought Jackie, Lottie, and Shauna over so she could sleep after a night shift. She didn’t want to burden them with some form of weird babysitting, but something made them offer anyway. And so the three frats sat in the living room with the tiny baby, having serious conversations with someone making utterly unserious noises while a random cartoon played in the background.

“Jackie, what are you doing…?” Nat raised an eyebrow, watching Jackie hold the baby up toward… the top kitchen cabinets?

“She’s never been up there, so…” Jackie started, but Shauna usually just snorted, cutting her off. Not quite mocking her , just softening too, at the sight of those little eyes that looked exactly like yours. “So I’m showing her,” Jackie would roll her eyes.

Nat, who made it her mission to completely spoil the kid once she was old enough. Sweets? Of course. Playgrounds? Even better. Now, instead of spending money on substances, she spent it on toys, and anything the baby reached for at the store.

Nat, who would explain classic rock bands to the baby who barely understood what was going on. But hey, at least Nat’s rings sparkled in the sunlight, and you’d watch the whole scene with amused affection.

“I'm providing an education,” Nat would mutter when you brought it up.

Nat, who started saving up for a tiny bike.

Nat, who would sit her daughter on her motorbike, telling her that one day, she’d teach her to ride and get her one just like it.

She didn’t tell you I love you very often. Nat expressed things through actions. Through how she took care of everything: the baby, the bills, the household. But now, she’d randomly say it during the day. Sometimes, she’d just leave little sticky notes behind before heading off to work.

Nat made sure you two went on at least one date a month, and always tried to take the baby out for walks whenever she could.

She wasn’t like her father.

And maybe that’s exactly the confirmation she’d always needed.

[crazziforazzi]

Fighting for the love (of the game) -Chapter 6

Chapter 6: Team dinner

Pairing: Paige Bueckers x Azzi Fudd

Trope: Second chance

A/N: I hope you enjoy this one as much as I have enjoyed writing it. We are getting closer. :)

Word Count: 5.9k words

Masterlist

Azzi POV: Azzi hadn’t said another word to Paige after that moment in the car.

Not when her throat still ached from keeping herself together. Not when the weight of Paige’s voice, I’m so fucking sorry, was still settling into her chest.

Julie had joined them a few minutes after what happened, sliding into the backseat with a loud complaint about her aching muscles. Azzi had laughed, loud and fake, while Paige just smiled tightly, murmuring something about training camp being intense.

Azzi had let herself disassociate after that.

Her brain flickered into survival mode, filing away everything from that moment into some mental folder labeled feel later. She turned toward Julie, asked her about her plans for tomorrow, cracked a joke about Rae’s dance moves in the locker room, and did everything to drown out the lingering echo of that damn SZA song and Paige’s tear-glossed eyes.

By the time they arrived at the rooftop restaurant, the others had started trickling in as well. It was great to see their new teammates dressed up, fresh-faced and obnoxiously loud, exactly the kind of energy Azzi needed to disappear into. The place was beautiful too, warm-toned lights strung overhead, the city buzzing beneath them, music humming low in the background. 

She ended up seated between Sarah and Azurá, which turned out to be a blessing. Sarah was easy to talk to, warm and lowkey surprisingly funny. Azurá was sharper, a little reserved at first, but once Azzi got her going about hiking routes near LA, she lit up. They fell into easy conversation, and for a while, Azzi let herself believe she was just a rookie on a new team, at a normal team dinner, talking about everything except the person sitting two seats diagonally across the table.

But it only worked for a while, because Paige was there and even when Azzi wasn’t looking, she could feel her. She caught her in peripheral glances laughing at something Kelsey said, clinking glasses with Cam, leaning back in her chair with her small smile at the corner of her mouth. 

Paige wasn’t loud tonight, did not try to be the center of attention, but Azzi noticed every shift in her posture, every time Paige reached for her drink, every moment she looked over and didn’t quite meet Azzi’s eyes. And still, Azzi could not stop looking. 

The team did a bonding thing at one point, go around the table, share a fun fact about you. Paige had muttered something about being able to braid hair very fast and Azzi had to bite the inside of her cheek to keep her face neutral.

She knew that skill all too well, she was the reason Paige learned it at the first place.

She remembered Paige sitting cross-legged behind her in the early morning before practices, braiding slowly at first, then speeding up once she got the pattern. Fingers tugging gently at her scalp while some series played in the background. Paige always finished the braid by leaning over and kissing the top of her head.

Azzi had smiled at the memory, then immediately shut it down.

She needed air even though they were sitting outside on a rooftop. She let the team fall deeper into drinks and desserts before slipping quietly from the table. No one noticed, or at least, no one said anything.

She crossed to the far side of the rooftop, behind a few oversized plants in big terra cotta pots, half-hiding her from the table view. The city stretched out below her, the air felt cooler back here, touched with a salty breeze.

She leaned against the railing, closed her eyes, and finally let herself breathe. Her shoulders slumped like they’d been held up by invisible strings all night. Her fingers unclenched, her jaw loosened.

God, she felt exhausted.

Not only physically, she was used to that kind of exhaustion. It was the emotional weight that made her feel like she’d been fighting through war all night.

Like every laugh she’d given, every story she’d told, every sip of wine had been threaded with restraint. She was acting fine in a show where everyone else had the script and she was stuck improvising.

She tilted her head back toward the sky. Let the quiet wrap around her. 

But even here, even in this sliver of privacy, Paige lingered in her mind. The apology, that look on her face, the way she’d leaned into her hand like it still meant something. 

And Azzi knew that she, herself, hadn’t stopped meaning it, not even after Paige broke her heart.

She pressed a hand to her chest, right over the spot where it still ached and just stood there, eyes shut, breathing in the city and the distance and the pieces of love she hadn’t figured out how to let go of yet.

Azzi didn’t know how long she stood there before the footsteps approached.

She almost didn’t turn, figured it might be someone looking for the bathroom or another teammate sneaking off for a phone call. But the steps stopped just behind her, and then came a familiar voice, quiet and kind.

"Mind if I join?"

Azzi glanced over her shoulder and found Cam already halfway into a crouch beside her, long legs folding easily as she sat down at the sofa near the edge of the rooftop. Her eyes were on the horizon, not on Azzi which helped.

Azzi hesitated, then smiled to her best abilities.

"Sure," she said. "Just needed a little air."

Cam nodded, like she understood. She didn’t say anything else at first. Just sat there with her, both of them gazing out toward the Pacific, the city lights starting to flicker on one by one as the sun dipped lower, casting deep purples and burnt orange across the skyline.

It was peaceful and Azzi finally let her shoulders drop a little.

"I hate eating alone," Cam said after a while, voice calm and conversational. "My boyfriend was out of town this week, and I didn’t feel like cooking, so I texted Paige. Asked if she wanted to grab dinner together."

Azzi blinked, startled for a second. The last thing she expected was for the moment to pivot like that, from a shared silence to… Paige.

"Oh," Azzi said, cautious. "Cool."

Cam didn’t seem to notice her hesitation or maybe she did and just let it pass.

"We went to this new Italian place. Their cacio e pepe was amazing. I can definitely recommend."

Azzi nodded vaguely, still unsure where this was going.

Cam leaned back a little, elbows resting on the stone ledge. "We ended up staying there for a couple of hours. Just talking and catching up, it has been a while. We ended up talking about my ACL tear and how hard the rehab was. I know that I do not have to explain that to you."

Azzi turned to glance at her then but Cam was still watching the ocean.

"We also spent quite a bit of time talking about the mental aspect of it. I was in a really bad place, couldn’t see my future clearly," she said simply. "I almost ended things with my boyfriend during that time. I thought I was dragging him down. He kept showing up, but I kept pushing him away."

Azzi’s throat tightened but she didn’t say anything. She started to understand the connection.

Cam continued, soft and steady. "Eventually I got into therapy. Like… real therapy. Not the I will show up once a month kind, but actual deep discussions multiple times a week. And slowly, I started figuring out how to let someone stay. How to stop apologising for struggling and how to ask for help without thinking it made me weak. And it worked, he and I… we found our way back."

She glanced sideways now. Not directly at Azzi, just enough.

"I told Paige all of that," Cam said. "And she just… sat there. She barely touched her food, she listened to every word. And when I finished, she said, I wish I’d asked for help like that before it was too late."

Azzi felt her pulse quicken, her grip on the railing tightened. She didn’t want to cry again, not here and not now.

Cam finally turned fully toward her, voice low. "She asked for this trade for a reason."

Azzi’s head snapped to her hearing that, eyes meeting hers. "She ...what?"

"She asked for it herself," Cam repeated gently. "She didn’t tell you?"

Azzi shook her head. Small, just once.

"She asked for this trade," Cam continued gently. "And yeah, sure, LA’s a good fit for her on the court, but I think we both know that’s not all this is. She clearly came here because she wanted to fight for things she gave up on before."

The words settled over Azzi slowly, like warmth spreading across chilled skin. She hadn’t known that, not for sure. Part of her had still wondered if Paige ended up here by chance.

"I know this is confusing," Cam said softly. "And heavy and way too much to process over team dinner and wine tonight. But I hope..." she paused, voice steady, "...I hope you give her the chance to explain what happened. Not for her. For you. You owe yourself that much."

Azzi didn’t answer right away. Her heart was thudding loud in her ears, and every breath felt like it might shatter her all over again. But she didn’t pull away from it, didn’t put the walls back up.

Cam stood slowly, stretching her legs, brushing off her jeans. "Either way… I’m here. For both of you. If or when you need to talk. Or if you just need someone to sit next to again."

She paused, then added with a small grin, "Also, I have a really great therapist recommendation. Just saying."

That made Azzi let out a breath of a laugh, quiet but real. 

"Thanks Cam," she said finally, voice small but steady.

Cam nodded. "Anytime."

She gave her shoulder a gentle squeeze before heading back toward the group.

Azzi stayed behind with her mind only focusing on one message.

Paige had come here on purpose.

Paige POV: 

Paige immediate noticed it of the corner of her eye. A subtle shift in the background, Azzi slipping away from the table like she was trying not to be noticed. It was quiet and smooth, but Paige’s eyes tracked her anyway. She tried not to be obvious about it, didn’t want to make a scene or draw attention, but when five minutes passed and Azzi still hadn’t come back, Paige’s leg started bouncing under the table.

She scanned the rooftop.

Laughter, drinks, conversations, all of it humming in the foreground while her focus narrowed, until finally she spotted Azzi’s silhouette near the edge, on the far side, away from the warmth of the group. Her shoulders were hunched slightly, hands on the railing. Paige started to rise, already half-standing, when a gentle touch on her arm made her pause.

Cam.

"I got it," Cam said quietly, already reading the situation.

Paige looked at her, unsure, maybe even a little defensive, but Cam just smiled knowingly. "Let me check on your girl, P."

There was no malice, no teasing in Cam’s voice, just gentle, steady understanding. Still, Paige opened her mouth to object, maybe out of habit, to correct her. To say she’s not mine anymore. But all that came out was a nod.

"Thanks," she murmured instead.

She watched Cam walk away until both of them disappeared from her line of sight. Paige exhaled slowly, torn between staying where she was and craning her neck to follow them. Her stomach was still twisted up when she turned back to the table, only to see Kelsey already watching her, raising an eyebrow and motioning her over with a subtle nod of her head.

Paige dragged herself over, dropping down next to her with the kind of caution reserved for a coach’s office after a bad practice.

"Don’t start, Plum," she muttered.

Kelsey ignored that entirely. "So what are your intentions with our rookie?"

Paige’s eyebrows shot up. "What?"

"You heard me." Kelsey tilted her head again, sharper this time. "I’m asking what you plan to do about her."

Paige blinked, trying to gauge if this was a joke. But Kelsey’s expression didn’t budge. She stared back at her, unbothered, sipping her drink like she had all the time in the world. 

Paige sat back with a sigh, rubbing the back of her neck. "You don’t have to worry. I’ll make sure the team dynamic stays clean. I’m not gonna mess anything up."

There was a pause. Then Kelsey’s voice softened a touch. "That’s not what I hoped you'd say."

That caught Paige off guard.

She’d known, that their history wasn’t really a secret, the basketball world knew about them even if they called themselves best friends. That was the easier version while being teammates in college. Unless you were in their circle, no one ever said it out loud.

But clearly Kelsey had been paying closer attention. Close enough to realize they weren’t just being professional these days, that something had cracked between them, friends or more. That they clearly weren’t close anymore, and it wasn’t just about keeping a low profile.

And for some reason… Kelsey wanted her to fix it.

That caught her off guard more than it should have. She lowered her voice even further, almost to a whisper.

"I’m gonna try to earn her trust back. I mean that. But basketball comes first… for both of us. Our careers are on the line and I can’t screw this up for her. For us."

Kelsey nodded, the corner of her mouth tilting up. "Okay. Then I’ll keep an eye on her. ‘Til you can."

A smirk tugged at Paige’s mouth. "Already falling for the People’s Princess charm?"

Kelsey rolled her eyes, but didn’t deny it. "Don’t act like you didn’t do the same thing."

Paige huffed a quiet laugh, staring at her drink. "Yeah," she said. "Guess I never stood a chance either."

By the time the clock crept past 10 p.m., the rooftop had started to thin out.

The week had been long, filled with intense practices, nonstop media, and a constant hum of adrenaline that only now was starting to wear off. Conversations still floated in the air, but it had dulled down, softened into yawns and slow blinks.

Some players hugged goodbye with lingering arms and tired eyes, others lingered a while longer, not quite ready to end the night but too tired to prolong it much longer.

Paige stayed where she was, her non-alcoholic cocktail half-finished in her hand, gaze occasionally flicking across the table. She tried not to be obvious about it, but every now and then, especially as the wine settled deeper into Azzi’s smile, she found herself watching her.

Whatever Cam said to Azzi, it worked.

Azzi was noticeably different after coming back to the table. Her shoulders were looser, her laughter easier. The longer the night went on, the more she leaned in, not toward Paige directly, but toward the group, toward the moment.

And sometimes, just sometimes, Paige caught her looking. Not by accident and not only for a brief second, but like she couldn’t look away. Paige didn’t press it, she just waited. Calm on the outside, even as something restless stirred quietly beneath her ribs.

Julie was the one who finally broke the lull, weaving back to their part of the table with flushed cheeks and a little grin like she already knew what decision was about to be made. She leaned into the space between Paige and Azzi, catching both their eyes at once.

"I’m thinking about heading out with Sarah for one more drink," she said lightly. "You’re welcome to join. Totally up to you."

Paige didn’t answer right away. Instead, she looked at Azzi who was already looking at her.

Their eyes locked, it was warm, and something steady that settled low in Paige’s chest. Azzi gave the tiniest shake of her head, almost imperceptible, but it told Paige everything she needed to know.

"I think I’m good," Paige said, voice low, like it had been her decision all along.

Azzi nodded. "Yeah, same. Think I’m calling it."

Julie smiled like she’d seen this coming, squeezed Paige’s shoulder, and disappeared into the night.

Not long after, it was just the two of them walking side by side down a quiet stretch of sidewalk, the city cooling around them. The breeze was gentler now, brushing over them as they passed under flickering street lamps, and for a moment, Paige forgot to feel cautious.

Azzi’s curls caught the light, and her steps stayed in sync with Paige’s like they used to, effortless.

Paige could almost pretend that nothing had changed. That they were still just two girls stumbling out of a party, shoulders brushing, the air between them thick with something unspoken and familiar.

But it wasn’t the same, not really.

Not with her hands clenched tight inside her pockets to stop herself from reaching out. Not with her heart thudding against the cage of her ribs like it hadn’t quite learned how to be careful again.

And all Paige could think about was how stupid she’d been.

How deeply, irrevocably foolish she was to let this slip away, to let her slip away, when this right here, this life, this city, this quiet late-night walk with Azzi at her side, was all they had talked about for years.

Back then, it had been the dream they clung to when the days felt too heavy and the pressure of being who they were started to crack at the edges. 

They used to whisper it to each other like a promise, spoken into the backs of necks and the soft space between shoulder blades and shared pillows in dark rooms.

One day, we won’t have to hide. One day, I’ll take you anywhere you want. One day, this gets to be ours.

She used to tell Azzi she’d spoil her. And she’d meant it, not in the cliché way people throw that word around, but in the real, rooted way that meant I see you, I treasure you, and I want the world to rearrange itself around your happiness. 

Paige wanted to take her to midnight movies and overpriced bakeries and hidden bookstores with coffee that tasted like lavender and cinnamon. She wanted to kiss her in public, hold her hand without a second thought, watch her try on clothes she didn’t need and buy them for her anyway. She wanted to treat her like the princess she always was.

And now here they were.

Azzi was right next to her, but Paige couldn’t touch her. She couldn’t lean over and rest her head on her shoulder, couldn’t press a kiss into her cheek and feel her smile against her skin.

All she had was the distance Azzi allowed, and the ache that settled behind her ribs when she realized how far away that version of them still was.

She kept her hands buried deep in her pockets, fingers twitching restlessly, trying to keep all that longing contained. And still, every step beside Azzi felt like falling in love all over again. Like a reflex she hadn’t unlearned, no matter how much time had passed or how badly she’d messed it all up. 

Even when this was all her fault.

Why did she let her go? Why did she pull away when she should have held tighter? Why did she let her own fear dictate her silence and let distance calcify what could’ve been repaired?

And now the life they’d dreamed about was finally here, laid out before them, but Paige had no idea how to reach for it again without shaking.

And Azzi… Azzi was right there, her expression unreadable in the low light, her body relaxed but her hands tucked into the back of her pants. Paige didn’t know what she was thinking. If she was remembering the same late-night talks, the same whispered plans. If she felt the same ache.

But God, Paige hoped she did.

Because if Azzi asked, if she turned right now and said show me you learned from your mistake, Paige would drop everything.

She would find a way to rewrite the stars, the whole season, the last nine months just to get one more shot at being the girl who got to love Azzi out loud.

Azzi POV:

By the time Azzi came back to the table, everything felt just a little lighter.

Cam hadn’t said anything groundbreaking, hadn’t given some magical fix, but just talking, hearing someone name the thing out loud, had helped. It loosened something in her chest, made it easier to sit down again without feeling like she had to brace herself every time Paige moved or spoke or laughed too loud next to her.

She sipped the wine Julie had left in front of her. She let herself laugh at one of Kelsey’s dumb stories, leaned into Sarah’s shoulder without thinking. She let her body relax into the buzz of the rooftop and the warmth of good company and the slight haze of alcohol working its way through her veins.

But then she made the mistake of letting herself look at Paige again.

It was stupid, honestly, how fast it hit her. How intense it still was. One second she was laughing at something Kelsey said and the next, her gaze drifted across the table and landed on Paige. And it was like every nerve in her body pulled taut all at once.

She didn’t mean to stare, she hadn’t let herself all night. Every time Paige moved, every time her voice slipped through the noise to make someone laugh, Azzi had instinctively looked away, afraid of what it might do to her if she really took her in.

But now the alcohol had softened that discipline. Blurred the line between smart and reckless and suddenly it was like her eyes had a mind of their own, drinking in every single detail they’d been starved of.

Paige looked stupidly good. Her black tank top clung in places Azzi had memorized too well, hinting at the curves and planes of muscle she used to trace lazily with her fingers on mornings they didn’t want to get out of bed. Her slightly tan legs stretched out beneath the table, long and lean and relaxed, crossed casually. Her chain kept catching the lights above them, glinting every time she tipped her head back and laughed, which she was doing more and more as the night wore on, her smile wide and easy.

Azzi’s stomach flipped at the sight of it, at the way Paige’s eyes crinkled in the corners, at how completely and painfully familiar it all still was.

It wasn’t just attraction she felt, it was hunger. Her eyes moved lower, lingered longer than they should have. On the slope of Paige’s shoulder, the dip in her collarbone, the way her fingers curled loosely around her drink, the little scar on her wrist that Azzi had kissed a hundred times.

Everything was the same and still, everything was different. And none of it was hers anymore, not that her body seem to care.

She kept her face mostly blank, or at least she hoped she did, but she could feel the heat rising in her chest, spreading up her neck. She looked away, then looked back too quickly. Tried to sip her wine like it might distract her, but it didn’t.

Paige was magnetic and that old gravity was still there, pulling at her like a tide she didn’t have the strength to resist.

And when they finally said goodnight to the rest of the team, when the rooftop noise faded behind them and it was just the two of them walking side by side into the night, Azzi could barely keep it together.

Azzi’s heart was already pounding, but not with anxiety this time.

It was heat and need and want. That same buzz that had always lived in her chest when Paige was near, hot and insistent and impossible to ignore. Every step they took together, every unspoken inch of space between their bodies, was making it worse. She could feel the warmth radiating off Paige, feel the faint brush of her arm every few strides, and it was driving her crazy.

She should have been thinking about everything that had gone wrong, about the fallout and the heartbreak. But she wasn’t. Not with the wine still humming in her blood and the streetlights glowing soft and yellow and Paige walking next to her like no time had passed at all.

Right now, all she could think about was how badly she still wanted her.

Her body remembered everything. How Paige used to run hot like a furnace, how good it felt to fall asleep with her thigh slotted between Azzi’s, how her hands always knew where to go, how she’d hum under her breath while untangling Azzi’s hair after a game.

Her brain could somewhat rationalize the breakup, could remind her why they didn’t make it, but her body didn’t give a damn.

Her body still wanted Paige, desperately.

She wanted to feel Paige’s hand on the small of her back, wanted to reach over and curl her own fingers around Paige's wrist, tug her closer, feel her body slot against hers like they hadn’t spent the last nine months pretending they didn’t still fit. She wanted to grab her by the collar of that stupid tank top and kiss her until they forgot why they ever stopped.

And God, it wasn’t fair that Paige could still look like that and Azzi couldn’t touch her. Couldn’t have her.

The thoughts came fast, unfiltered.

What if I just reached for her hand? What if I pressed up against her, right here, in the middle of the street? What if I kissed her before I could change my mind? Would she stop me? Would she kiss me back? Would we make it to the car or would we just…

She glanced sideways, quick, but not quick enough to miss how Paige’s jaw was tense, how her hands were shoved deep into the pockets of her shorts like she was afraid they might betray her too.

She looked like she was trying not to look at Azzi, which only made it worse. Because Azzi knew that meant she was thinking about it too.

Azzi’s hand twitched at her side, fingers curling into a fist, just to keep herself from acting on it. She bit the inside of her cheek, tried to slow her breathing. 

Then, like the universe was trying to cool her down, a breeze picked up and cut straight through her. She shivered, her top had been cute in theory but was clearly not meant for the drop in temperature. She should have taken that jacket...

She tried not to show it, tucked her arms tighter across her chest, pressed her biceps in, kept walking like everything was fine. When they reached the car, Paige unlocked it without a word and opened her door before sliding into the driver’s seat.

Then Paige reached behind her seat, pulled out a worn grey hoodie, and set it gently in Azzi’s lap. Paige, of course, noticed.

Azzi stared at it for a second, her throat tightened. She recognized it immediately. Soft and faded, sleeves stretched out from years of use, a faint scent of cedar and whatever detergent Paige had always used. The smell hit her so hard it was almost stupid. She didn’t question it, she just pulled it on. Slowly, like she needed to savor it.

"Thanks," she said quietly, voice raspier than she meant it to be, fingers tugging the sleeves down past her hands.

Paige gave a small nod, eyes already forward. "Anytime."

The car rolled out into the street. With gospel music playing low, Azzi let her head fall back against the seat, eyes half-closed, nerves fried and heart still racing.

She didn’t mean to speak again, but the words slipped out anyway.

"Tonight was fun," she said softly, almost surprised by her own voice. She saw Paige glance at her, just briefly. Azzi kept going, a little bolder now. "You and Kelsey didn’t have to do all that. It was really sweet."

Paige’s voice was soft. "Just wanted to make sure we all got a night together. Before the roster’s set and things change."

Azzi turned her head slightly. Paige looked calm, but her jaw was still tight. Her fingers flexed on the steering wheel like she was holding something in. Azzi bit her lip, suddenly needing to know. 

"Can I ask you something?"

Paige nodded. "Yeah."

Azzi hesitated, but the wine made her brave. "Did you know?" she asked. "That I was going to be traded here. Before you signed?"

Paige’s hands on the wheel stilled completely, her knuckles pale where they wrapped the leather. For a beat, she didn’t answer. Azzi stared straight ahead, biting the inside of her cheek. She almost said never mind. Almost walked it back. But then Paige took a slow, quiet breath and nodded once, gaze still on the road.

"Yeah," she said simply. "I did."

Azzi blinked, her heart thudding a little too loud in her ears.

"I called my agent the night of the draft," Paige added after a moment, her voice softer this time, almost cautious. "Asked him to find a way to make it happen. That if there was a way… I needed to be here."

Azzi blinked again, her eyes burned suddenly, from heat or wine or something else entirely. She turned her head slowly to look at Paige.

And that’s when she saw it.

Not the usual restraint, not the tension Paige had been wearing around her all week. Her profile was lit only by passing streetlights, but it was enough to catch the open lines of her expression. There was no performance in it, no careful calculation. Just… softness. The kind that made Azzi’s stomach twist.

Paige’s mouth was slightly parted, like she’d been ready to say more but decided against it. Her eyes, still on the road, looked almost shy. Vulnerable in a way Azzi hadn’t seen in a long time. Like she was waiting for a rejection.

And suddenly, Cam’s voice echoed back in her mind.

"She clearly came here because she wanted to fight for things she gave up on before."

Azzi hadn’t wanted to believe it or maybe she’d been too afraid to hope. But now Azzi could finally see it.

Here was Paige, fingers still curled loosely around the steering wheel, jaw flexing like she was holding back everything she actually wanted to say to her.

Paige hadn’t just known about the trade, she’d asked for it. She had chosen this on purpose. Chosen to be near Azzi, even knowing that she will not be welcomed back with open arms.

Azzi turned back toward the window, heart pounding now for a different reason entirely. The hum of the city outside faded, all she could hear was her own heartbeat and the quiet, patient space Paige was giving her. 

Because Paige had been clearly waiting.

Not just for this drive, not just tonight, she’d been waiting since day one of training camp. She has been letting Azzi have her space, letting her decide if she wanted to open that door again. 

Azzi sat with that for a long moment, the weight of it shifting inside her until it stopped feeling heavy and started feeling like something she didn’t want to carry alone anymore.

She didn’t want to avoid this. She didn’t want to keep playing pretend. Whatever this thing was, this unfinished, half-held, still-burning thing between them, she didn’t want to run from it anymore.

So she swallowed. And when she spoke, her voice came out quiet, but certain.

"I have something early tomorrow," she said, not looking at her this time. "But after that… I’m free. If you want to talk."

There was a beat of stunned silence, just long enough for Azzi to question whether Paige had heard her.

Then Paige turned to her so fast it was almost funny. Her eyes wide, like she hadn’t expected Azzi to say that out loud, like she’d been bracing herself for another shutdown, another silent wall.

"You sure?" Paige asked, barely above a whisper. She didn’t sound skeptical though, she sounded hopeful, like she wanted to reach across the console and touch her but didn’t trust her hands yet.

Azzi finally looked over, and the corner of her mouth twitched, not quite a smile but something close. "Yeah," she said. "I’m sure."

Paige nodded once, quickly, like she couldn’t get the words out fast enough. "Okay. Yeah. I’ll be around. Write me when you are done."

The eagerness in her voice was barely contained, tucked just beneath the softness, like she’d been holding her breath for days and finally exhaled.

Azzi went quiet again, but not in a closed-off way. More like… she needed a second to feel what it meant that the door was open again. That she herself had opened it.

When they pulled up to the building, she reached for the zipper of the hoodie without thinking, but Paige stopped her with a quiet, "Hey, keep it."

Azzi paused.

"You still need to get inside," Paige added with a tiny smirk that didn’t quite hide how serious she was.

Azzi let out the smallest breath of laughter, shook her head.  She opened the door but didn’t step out yet, her fingers curling over the frame as she hesitated, not ready to let go of the quiet between them. 

They didn’t say anything at first, just stared, suspended in the thick silence, both of them leaning in the smallest bit, like they could meet in the middle and fall into something old and familiar and dangerous.

Paige’s mouth parted like she wanted to say something, maybe even move, maybe close the last inches and pull her in. God, Azzi could feel the warmth of it already, the ghost of a hug that would have undone her, but neither of them crossed the line. 

Azzi blinked once, slow and heavy, and said, "Goodnight, Paige," her voice barely more than a whisper, but loaded.

Paige’s eyes didn’t leave hers as she nodded, soft and steady. "Night, Azz."

That was it, Azzi stepped out into the night, hoodie wrapped tight around her, and she didn’t look back, but she felt Paige’s eyes on her the whole way up the steps, full of something she wasn’t sure she could carry yet but didn’t want to ignore anymore. It wasn’t until she stepped inside and the lock clicked behind her that she let out the breath she’d been holding.

Later, curled up in her bed with the hoodie still wrapped around her, Azzi didn’t try to stop the thoughts anymore.

She let herself remember the way Paige had looked at her, let herself feel the weight of those blue eyes still following her everywhere, still brushing her skin like a touch she hadn’t gotten. 

And for the first time in months, she let herself fall asleep thinking about her. Not the pain, not the questions, just Paige. 

[avaari]

#ok first of all. real n true.#but also i'm having some sort of thought abt this which i'm going to struggle to articulate so bear with me#i think what i'm thinking is.#susan being effectively married off IS a bad ending. i'm not arguing w/ that.#but setting that aside. one locks her out of the tardis so she can go and have her own life#& grow up and over him#he recognises that he and susan are dependent on each other in ways that stop her from growing#& while the way he goes about it isn't super uhhh healthy#and the way that comes across on screen i.e. her going off to marry david isn't exactly progressive#we ARE left with the impression that susan will go off and become an independent adult in her own right#whereas belinda's ending has no acknowledgement of her own personhood or life#in fact arguably it's the opposite of the doctor locking susan out given that she gets saddled with poppy#just because the doctor wanted his child to live#idk. i guess what i'm trying to say is that both endings are reductive#in the sense of handing susan and belinda endings as wives and mothers#but philosophically underneath belinda's ending is so much worse via @the--highlanders

The year is 2025 and we have a companion exit more sexist than Susan Foreman’s in 1964

[onlygarden]

[not yours, not anymore] - yang jungwon

genre: smut

description: your ex-boyfriend, heeseung, broke up with you only a day ago. however, when jungwon catches wind of this, the first thing he does is let you know he's there for you, in his own twisted way. dubcon, noncon, blood, biting, slapping, choking, marking, bruising, manipulation, unprotected sex, jungwon is just a sick little perv hehe

a/n: i decided to embark on a little sidequest because i really needed a break from "would you let me" (i swear i'm not a person who can focus only on one fic for several days i NEED FREEDOM) and i had so much inspiration to finish this one so yes. i hope you enjoy :D it's 2am. goognight

with his heart thrumming in his chest, and the staggering excitement making his legs move quicker than ever, jungwon headed to your place.

the relationship you spent two years building with heeseung ended recently, leaving a relentless ache in your chest to accompany you. ultimately, he told you that you were “nothing but a fucking chore,” words you began to feel through the final months of your relationship, anyway, without him needing to tell you. well, at least he was honest. callous, but honest.

in jungwon’s ‘mind’ – or rather, just a ball of perverted filth – this revelation was nothing short of exhilarating. from the moment heeseung started to bring you around, jungwon couldn’t control the urges you ignited in him. whenever you slept at their place, and heeseung stepped out of the room for whatever irrelevant reason jungwon didn’t care about, jungwon often found himself peaking through the crack heeseung so thoughtfully left in the doorway, aching to see just a tiny glimpse of the flesh he could only ever admire through your clothes. this is my friend’s girlfriend, this isn’t right, he would think. those detaining words were the only thing that ever stopped him from just snatching the blanket from your cute little sleeping figure and demolishing you. you and your body, made to be enjoyed. now, those detaining words were no longer true, and those downright torturous years were over – so of course he was fucking elated. shameless little hornball.

he showed up prepared, of course. he’s still a gentleman, after all – he arranged a basket of all your favorite snacks, and he bought you a bouquet of flowers to truly show his ‘concern,’ if it could even be called such. when you opened the door, dressed in those tiny soft shorts that constricted the flesh of your thighs, jungwon’s mouth lost every trace of moisture. look at you, being a filthy tease even in your despair, he thinks. 

“hey, i heard about you and heeseung,” he starts, an applaudable display of false sweetness laced in each of his words, and the knit of his brows. he could find a tinge of pity within himself, after all, but the anticipation he felt overshadowed anything else. “i just wanted to come check on you, and see if you were okay.” 

those devious words earn him an easy entry into your place, a plethora of “thank you, jungwon,” and “you’re so kind, this is too much, really,” leaving your weary lips with such gratitude that he almost feels a whisper of guilt for the wicked intentions veiled beneath his ‘caring’ exterior. 

he’s patient, too. leading you to your sofa, pulling you into his lap, easing your sweet troubles as he basks in the pleasure of the pressure of your body against his clothed cock. he feigns attentiveness as the feeble, delicate words leak out of you like a hemorrhage. you divulge, and divulge, and divulge.

“i just– i don’t know how to–” 

jungwon presses his nose to your neck, inhaling depravedly as his lips caress the skin there. as your body begins to tense, jungwon’s clutch on your hips only constricts, serving to halt any effort to move away from him. with your body being so vulnerable, having disclosed such taxing emotions for the past taxing hour, it was quite simple for him.

“w-won? what are you–”

his tongue slithers from his mouth, cascading up your neck, passing over your shock-parted lips as he licks the tears you shed for heeseung from your slippery face. he swallows them too, enjoying the bitter salt of them on his tongue– bitter, just as heeseung would feel if he knew the obscene manner in which jungwon planned to treat his freshly-ex girlfriend. 

“shhhh, it’s okay. no need to say anything, doll. i told you i’d make you feel better, didn’t i?”

the tranquility of your demeanor begins to falter. no, this is too much. the vulnerability of your heart felt entirely too much, and the hefty traces of heeseung were still far too prominent in every pore of you.

“j-jungwon, i–”

his body begins to shift, your back gradually meeting the couch beneath you as he presses you into the cushions of the couch – his endlessly broad shoulders cage you in, the security of them almost serving to comfort you, if not for the way his eyes flicker with the cruel intention of snatching away every trace of ownership heeseung ever carved into your body.

“shhh,” he shushes again, a certain harshness beginning to claw it’s way from his throat. “just be quiet. just let me do this, and i promise you’ll forget all about him.”

without even the pretense, the courtesy of awaiting your decision, jungwon’s fingers wrap themselves in the hem of your shirt, yanking the material over your head, allowing it to scrape coarsely against your back as you refuse to lift your body from the couch. 

“aww, let’s not make this hard, hm?” he breathes out in a gentle rasp, the soothing heat of his breath only serving to intensify the throbbing, pounding, beating in your chest. “i can make all of those tears go away, and you know that, don’t you?’

when you shake your head, and place a quivering hand on jungwon’s broad chest, his jaw tenses – now that he was here, so close to delving into everything he’s desired for the past two excruciating years, the last thing he wanted was even a semblance of distance between the two of you. 

he seizes your wrist, his nail marks imprinting the gentle skin. with a rapid, jarring yank, he draws your body closer to his using the punishing grip, your upper body left to dangle helplessly above the cushions. “yes, you do. tell me you do,” he demands, emphasizing the word ‘yes’ with a belittling nod.

the shiver that runs through you is involuntary, yet inescapable as the sheer, immobilizing command in his tone surrounds you, suffocating you. the sight of your fluttering jaw, the sound of your pained whimper, the subtle panic swelling in your eyes all aid in sharpening the frustration within him. 

jungwon releases your wrist, reveling in the satisfaction he gains as your feeble body bounces against the couch cushions. he allows his hand to glide across your torso, stuttering momentarily against the sweat dewing on your skin. as he reaches your neck, he muffles your erupting gasp as he clamps his fingers enough to disrupt your airflow.

“you’re not in charge here, doll. i know what you need. nod if you understand,” and to further relay the conviction of his words, he tightens his grip on your throat, his cock now aching to be freed from the confines of his jeans as your eyes roll back. he knows it’s only a reaction to the lack of air in your system, but god if it isn’t fucking sexy.

you nod, the action fueled cruelly by the need to breathe, and the need to appease the man stealing that ability from you. the air floods to your lungs in a desperate gasp as he releases his bruising grip on your neck. in his twisted admiration, he traces the finger marks which have already started to form in a wispy stroke. look at you, already looking less like heeseung’s. 

“are you gonna let me ease your mind, doll?

again, you nod, though a breathless sob emerges from your heaving chest. aren’t you just adorable, jungwon thinks. 

“shh, why are you crying, sweet thing? i’m just gonna take care of you, i promise,” he eases, the tips of his fingers tracing the glistening skin of your abdomen, hooking into the waistband of your shorts as he tugs the material apart with a resounding rip, the veins in his forearm tensing as he does. it’s almost a shame with how prettily they shaped you, he thinks. almost. 

the sound of your utterly devastated shorts hitting the floor is not nearly enough to draw jungwon’s attention away from your enrapturing body — you’re laid out underneath him, at his mercy, defenseless, the flesh of your thighs rippling as uncontrollable shivers force themselves through you.

“oh, baby… look at you,” he starts, then his eyes drift along the tracks of your tears ornamenting your face, augmenting the beauty he’s basking in. those tears, all for him – he’s not guilty in the slightest, the only emotion ignited by the pathetic tears streaming down your cheeks is pure, unbridled exhilaration. “you don’t need to cry over those shorts, they were just hiding you,” he taunts, and he knows you’re not crying over the shorts, he knows he’s the reason you’re crying, but he wouldn’t dare to let the opportunity to dangle his power above you to slip from his grasp. when you return no response, he’s not perturbed, not discouraged – he could busy your mouth with another activity, anyway. 

“open up,” he tells you, referring to your mouth, his voice carrying to you in a low rumble, his eyes shadowed with such crippling ferocity. 

as you do, the speed of your compliance seems to perturb jungwon — he grasps your jaw in his hand, forcing dizzying pressure onto your cheeks until your mouth stretches open to his contentment. with his free hand braced beside your head, he prepares a generous glob of spit on his tongue, opens his mouth, and allows it to drip languidly from his tongue onto yours. 

“that taste better than heeseung?” he asks, with no true intention of hearing your answer — he merely wished to remind you of the way he was blanketing every remnant of the other man. but it was true, it tasted much better than heeseung – that much you can admit, even in your fear.

his mouth latches to yours, and his tongue immediately follows, melding over the slimy, bubbly traces of his own spit, his own taste in your mouth, the indication of his rising claim over you sending his mind into a drunken spin. he separates his lips from yours, only enough to allow him to gather more of his saliva onto his tongue, passing it to yours as his tongue tangles with you once more, his lips attached to yours as though a powerful suctioning force was keeping them there.

“i knew you were nasty. heeseung just never knew how to treat you, did he?” he breathes out, his words labored as he recovers from the fervor he exuded while he kissed you. 

“you don’t have to worry anymore. i can give you everything that failure didn’t,” he tells you, the words spoken in such a dizzied, possessive haze, unconcerned with any possible response from you as he removes your undergarments. his only concern blooms toward the way he’ll relish in the sensation of plunging into your snug pussy, reclaiming, rewriting every fragment of you as his.

“don’t even think about getting up,” he demands, the paralyzing authority in his voice serving to keep you obedient and still, even without any restriction from his hands. you certainly weren’t going to think about getting up, he didn’t even need to say it. his eyes, his shadowed, focused eyes, don’t dare to deviate from yours, pressing you into the cushions below you as though they placed an anchor on your body, communicating a wickedness to you that his mouth couldn’t find the words to describe.

“now, you don’t have a choice, you know?” he asks, sending the question to linger in the air in it’s sick solitude. he chuckles as a little nod follows his question. look at you, agreeing instinctively now. “yea, you know it. you know i’m gonna fuck every thought of that bastard out of you, don’t you?” the juxtaposition of your naked, bare body trembling beneath his clothed form only adds to the validity of his statement. you couldn’t find it in yourself to pretend that you didn’t want every trace of heeseung within you diminished, though jungwon didn’t even seem willing to garner the patience to wait by you, soothing you for the period of time you’ll need until you can grant him your confirmation – he simply could not cope with that stupid word ‘wait’ anymore.

the clothes leave his body with haste as he stands, confident the power he’s displayed over you will keep you pliant, feeble, beautiful, laid out beneath him in preparation of his depravity, and during. he positions himself to loom over you, latching his fingers to the smooth flesh underneath your knees, squeezing the joints as his fingers glide along your calves, adjusting your legs over his sturdy shoulders. the shoulders that just offered you such irreplaceable security only moments ago. 

he shifts his weight once more, looming over you until his lips meet the space where your shoulder and neck join. “i have to taste you, i just need to– mmmh,” his words trail off into a soft, gratified moan as his tongue graces your skin, taunting, leisured motions of back and forth until his mouth slinks open, his teeth pinching your skin with such unbarred intensity that your hand flies to his forearm reflexively, signaling your pain to him.

your pain is not something that matters to him, not when you’re under him, and he certainly won’t reign himself in just to provide you with the luxury of comfort. jungwon’s eyebrows knit together, a devious frown gracing his delicate features, before he’s withdrawing from the junction of your neck, removing one your legs from his shoulder, and sending his hand to your cheek in a merciless slap. 

the aftermath of the action confirms to you that he didn’t hold back, at all – you ears ring incessantly, the room nearly blackens as you battle the dizziness overcoming you, and the sound bounces between the walls of your living room. he can see, sense, feel your pain and your fright, but he still presses on.

“didn’t i fucking tell you, you don’t get to control me?” 

you cannot even begin to muster a response, not when your mind is still swimming with the dizziness he granted to you, battling the terror and dread concocting in your debilitated mind. you hardly register the sensation of his saliva gliding along your cheek, as he spits on you for the gratification of it, it seems.

jungwon’s hand comes to curl around his shaft, slapping the bulky weight of his cock against your clit. not for your pleasure, of course – for his own, as he derives much enjoyment from the sight of your body suffering through uncontrollable twitches each time he does.

“you like that, huh? i know you do, you don’t have to pretend,” he taunts.

jungwon’s gaze clings to your face once more, drowning in the way your tears crawl slowly over your lower lashes, falling gracefully down your face and mingling with the saliva he left there, spreading the stream of it across more of your skin. with such an enthralling sight to fuel him, he slides the head of his painfully hard cock through your slippery lips, prodding your entrance with the head of his tip, his precum already gushing into the creamy sea your pussy has already created between the two of you. 

“you told me no, but you’ve been this wet the whole time, you nasty little thing,” he breathes out, a chuckle following the path of his words. “how fucking pathetic are you, getting wet from being slapped around.”

the last word leaves his mouth in a breathy grunt, as he shoves his cock inside of your warmth, driving each inch of himself into you, his width leaving such a sizzling stretch to follow the aftermath of his brutality. jungwon doesn’t tiptoe, doesn’t waste this precious moment in allowing you to adjust, and doesn’t yield to the whine plummeting from your lips as he fills you all too hurriedly, all too coercively. 

“fuck, you’re sucking me in so good,” he rasps, his voice tightening in a symptom of your heat encompassing him – the pressure of your lustrous walls only further compressed by your nerves and the circumstance of only one of your legs bending over his shoulder. he snatches your other leg, hooking the quivering limb onto his empty shoulder, his bicep tensing slightly as he does.

jungwon pounds, drills, pistons into you, his veiny, taut hands bracing themselves on either side of your head, each thrust he sends into you accompanied by a dire promise of ‘you’re mine, mine, mine, in every right.’ he’ll never stop, never, ever stop, he thinks, as he finally explores the warm palace he’s been locked out of for entirely too long. his cock punishes your insides, snapping his hips so rapidly, bruising, abusing you, turning the most delicate part of you into a mangled, sore mess.

he’s incessant in his thrusts, refusing adamantly to even think about slowing to a leisurely pace, in utter disregard for your pitiful cries and whines tickling his ears. in fact, the sound only aids in redoubling his efforts, the excitement of raiding the body he knows to be rightfully his running rampant in his system, goading him to pummel you in the cruelest way. 

shifting the brunt of his weight onto one arm, without halting the motion of his hips, jungwon grabs his phone, and snaps a photo of his cock tearing through you, your pussy attaching to him, enveloping him as though you accepted his ownership of you  – he’s sure to capture the sight of the prominent bulge he’s provided you with, your lavish moisture causing his shaft to glisten under the lens of his phone camera. 

“heeseung will never get to do this again, will he? mmm… no, he won’t. but he never did a good job, anyway, did he, baby?” 

your brain hardly digests his words, far too lost in the way his cock sends tremors throughout your body – the sofa quakes, and you’re certain your body would eventually slip from the couch if not for the way he was caging you in. in a flurry of wails, your throat hardly manages a “w-won, don’t–” 

“don’t what?” he asks, interrupting your flow of  thoughts, the words of protest he knew you were attempting to spill. “don’t say that about him? why not? he’s a fucking loser,” he informs you, his tone cruel, charged, and you cannot suppress the guilt you feel at the way his words almost soothe you.

his phone is carelessly tossed aside as he returns his focus to the precision of his thrusts, cascading torturously along your damp walls, your sopping pussy sending such filthy squelches to resound in the room as he sloshes around inside of you. “mmm… fuck, your pussy’s so happy i’m doing this, even if you pretend like she isn’t,” he claims, his words laced with pleasured breaths as he continues to expend all of his energy inside of you – the most fulfilling way he could ever imagine to drain his energy. any other form of activity seems so boring now, in the light of comparison to you.

as much as it frightens you, you cannot prevent it in the same way – he’s flattening you so much, the proximity so tight, that his lower abdomen presses into your clit with each immobilizing thrust. you’ve never felt so destroyed, so battered, and his cock impales you with such a fullness, forcing you to stretch to accommodate his length, his girth. your whines escalate into sobs as you attempt to equip yourself for the pleasure preparing to rip through you – you couldn’t possibly prepare, and you cum, reaching an ecstasy that he demanded from you, the feeling searing through each of your pores, shuddering through each tangible crevice of your body as it coerces you to writhe and quiver beneath him. 

“just like that baby, just like that, you nasty, nasty thing,” he crudely encourages, guiding you through the orgasm he bestowed onto you against your puny attempts of preventing it. “who’s making you cum? who just made you cum, harder than that loser ever did?” 

as you navigate the lasting, immense, piling pressure of your orgasm given to him with reluctance, you attain the momentary strength to mutter a “y-you,” and it’s a miracle the sound reached his expectant ears.

“that’s right, i did. not his pussy anymore, not your pussy anymore, mine,” he says, the words fanning over your features in a whispered growl.

fuck, you’re gorgeous, cumming underneath him, feeling so, so good, and looking so good while doing it. your spasms, your flutters, the flood of your essence gushing more plentifully around him as you peak in such ravishing pleasure, it all serves to intensify his frenzy. he grunts, groans his eyebrows knitting together, his cheekbone twitching, creasing, spotlighting the dimple that no longer seemed so sweet. the pleasure’s overwhelming him now, as though it wasn’t already before, sending him to ascend towards an orgasm he could only ever fantasize about reaching until he finally bent the bars that were keeping him from your sweet warmth. the sounds of his skin connecting over, and over with yours growing stuttered, unfettered, as he struggles to keep his focus against the bliss overcoming him. 

as he cums, he’s sure to dramatize his hips to languid, punctuated pumps as he reminds you to “take it all,” through his low moans. with a semblance of mercy – though, a facade – he withdraws, unsheathing himself from your obliterated entrance, enjoying the way his cock is tinged slightly pink – his cum, your cum, and your blood. he grasps the opportunity to spread the fluid decorating his cock over your torso, your thighs, decorating you, further confirming his claim on you to appease the possessive beast that flared within him the first moment he saw you, only ever growing more vicious since then. amusedly, he watches as you crumble further into your sofa, as though you hadn’t already crumbled beneath him enough – he sent you, spiraling into a state he longed to send you into; your body shattered, your senses blurred, your mind incapable of responding to anything that didn’t involve a trace of him. as he admires the indentations of his teeth, the bruises in the shapes of his fingers, the velvety sea of his cum leaking from you, he garners a powerful sense of success – success in marking you, his territory. not heeseung’s, not anymore, just his.

heeseung, he remembers. oh, if he didn’t have a gift in store for that bastard.

he reaches for his phone, fortunate he’s able to find it so quickly with how he tossed it aside earlier with posthaste, as though it was paining him – which it was, in a way, since it took a bit of his attention away from you. opening his messaging app, he taps the photo he snapped of you during his ferocity, sending it to heeseung along with a simple message – “don’t even fucking think about asking her for another chance. i’ve got her now.” 

[spatialwave]

hii i love your writing style so so much 😭😭 can i ask for another namgyu smutfic with him calling fem reader "noona"? thank you!! 🤍

.｡ﾟ✰..｡ after you return home from voting to end the games, you spend your days rotting with namgyu... who still refuses to call you noona.

pairing: namgyu x fem!reader word count: 2k tags: mdni, smut, switch!reader + switch!namgyu, oral (f receiving), p in v sex, p w plot, the fic where reader convinces namgyu to call her noona. notes: ty for asking this was soooo fun to write!!! this fic is my apology to @nmgyuuu + anyone else who was personally victimized by the finale of keys and knives. 😭 i'm sorry forgive me <3

Deciding to leave the games had been the best choice you’d ever made—period. You, Semi and Minsu had to do some real convincing after Mingle to get Subong and Namgyu to vote to go home, and surprisingly, the vote swung in your favour by only two.

A tempting offer came shortly after, and about three days after, everyone received the opportunity to go back. The same card. Same phone number.

You hadn’t gone back, and you made sure Namgyu stayed, too. Subong, though, had decided to go back—his debt was too high for only a measly three-hundred million won to take care of. You didn’t blame him, and you just hoped he made it out alive. 

“Namgyu,” you whined, standing in your apartment as you opened your fridge. The light of the appliance lit you up in the otherwise dark space. “Did you eat my leftovers? I was saving those.”

Namgyu sat on your couch, eyes glued to his phone as the stench of weed filled the air. A half-smoked joint lit on an ashtray on the table that he’d forgotten about, slowly burning. Controllers lay askew over your coffee table—both of you had the pleasure of rotting alone for a bit now. You preferred it over what you’d just experienced not long before.

“I got hungry,” he said, putting his phone aside and looking over the back of the couch so just his eyes were visible. “Forgive me, baby?”

“Baby?” You scoffed, shutting the fridge with a loud thud as you decided that you could afford to get something else delivered. Your debt was paid off, and so was Namgyu’s—having been the best girlfriend you could be after pooling your funds together and paying it all off. 

“What’s wrong with baby?” He asked, his eyes so heavy from the weed that he could barely keep them open. Glossy and red. He was always so goddamn high, but it was better than the shit Subong had got him hooked on.

“I’m not your baby. I’m your Noona.”

Namgyu rolled his eyes, cheeks pink at the mention of the honorific. He scoffed, already a bit worked up at the mere mention of it, reminded only of the teasing he’d received from Subong during the games.

“I’m not calling you that,” he retorted, falling back onto the couch with a huff. He returned to his phone, unaware of how you crept towards him until you were able to slide over the back of the couch and straddle him.

“Why can’t you say it?” You whined, smiling as his phone dropped onto his chest and then tumbled out of reach to the floor with a soft clatter. He was forced to look at you, already worked up from your position over him.

“You were born three weeks before me; you're barely older than me,” Namgyu mumbled, hands on your hips as his needy hands already started sliding up and down your bare thighs, thankful for the sleep shorts you loved to wear.

“Say it,” you hummed, watching him as you gently rocked back and forth. He was already so hard, his erection building under the sweatpants he wore and pressing against you. It was the perfect amount of friction as you rutted, small movements to stir him.

He whined, fingernails scratching at your thighs. His cock twitched, already leaking precum and staining his sweatpants as you humped him slow enough to milk out those desperate sounds. He was always such a pathetic mess, always begging you for more—and you loved it. Having the upper hand was always fun, and although he sometimes went on a power trip and dominated you until you were bruised, fucked out and begging for more, most of the time, you found yourself nestled on top of him.

So, wasn’t it time you earned some respect?

“If you don’t say it, I’m not letting you fuck me.”

Namgyu’s eyes softened in an instant, his hands pushing underneath your shirt and rubbing against the soft expanse of your hips and waist. “Let me fuck you,” he whimpered, “Come on. You can’t do this to me and not let me fuck you—“

He was rutting back against you desperately, knowing you couldn’t say no to him. Not when you were so wet it was leaking through your layers of clothes.

“Noona,” you said, hands pressed to his chest as your fingers bundled the fabric of his shirt, “Come on, baby. Say it. I know you want to. Just this once.”

Namgyu groaned, your wet heat making it impossible to think straight. He could feel the way you were sliding against the fabric between you. Choking on his breath as you pulled aside your panties and shorts so your bare pussy was flush against his cock, covered only by a thin pair of sweatpants that you wanted off so bad, but you could be patient. 

“Fuck me,” he groaned deep in his throat, nails catching onto the skin of your hips. A few more rocks of your hips, and he felt like he might cum.

“Not until you say it,” you grumbled—and with that, you pulled away. You were satisfied with yourself as you crawled to the other side of the couch and relaxed back. Legs spread. Shorts and panties doing a horrible job of keeping you covered.

His mouth watered as he watched you. Eyes fixated between your legs as he licked his lips. It was one honorific. Just one word. He could say it, right?

It’s not like you were doing it to humiliate him. If anything, you thought it was hot, especially in these circumstances.

It took him a bit; a few moments fleeted by as he just stared at you. Then, he pushed forward and settled himself between your legs. His mouth inches from your cunt. One more lick of the lips…

“Is this okay, Noona?” He asked, voice coming out in a quiet crack. The weed had always mellowed him out so much more, making him way more introspective and aware of everything. With you, though? It was never bad. You always made him feel so good. It was easier than expected and rolled off his tongue in a way that made you shiver.

Nodding, you sunk lower onto the couch and reached down—fabric pulled aside. You gave him access to your pussy, wet and dripping.

You whined when he licked you, a single swipe from your entrance up to your clit. A few more motions of that until he focused on your sensitive nub, which was beginning to swell and pulse with each flick of his tongue, and each suck of his lips.

“Shit. Babe. Say it again,” you sighed, head lolling back onto the armrest. 

Namgyu pulled back, his chin and lips wet, as he looked up at you. “You like it, Noona?” He asked coyly, unable to overthink it anymore. Not when your juices were dripping so sweetly onto his tongue each time he said it. “You taste so good. God, so fucking good I can’t get enough.”

You mewled when he hooked his arms under your thighs, reaching up and around to keep them apart. He devoured you until his face was wet with your heat, juices running down his chin every time he pulled back for a breath. With only his tongue, he lapped you up until you were gasping for air, and his fingers buried into his messy black hair, releasing so hard you managed to squeeze your thighs through his strong grip.

On your hands and knees, still on the couch, Namgyu fucked you from behind.

Somehow, calling you 'Noona' and seeing the way you reacted gave him too much confidence for his own good. You let him have it, especially when his cock penetrated you so deep you knew you’d be walking crooked for days.

“How’s my cock, Noona?” He asked you, hands grabbing at your ass—slapping. Once, then twice until it was reddened into a handprint. “Answer me.” He slapped again.

“S’good,” you slurred out, head tilted to the side so the couch cushions didn’t swallow it. You tried to look up at him, but you didn’t have the energy. 

“You like it when I call you that?” Namgyu teased you, “You become such a good little slut when I say it. I thought it would make you so proud and dominating, baby. Instead, every time I call you Noona, your pussy tightens and begs me to fuck you harder. Maybe I should start using it all the time, hm? What do you think?”

You whimpered, his words sending chills up your spine. His cock stretched you as his balls slapped your sensitive clit. There was no response except for pathetic little sounds, and Namgyu was so very pleased with himself for putting you in this state.

“Want me to fuck you so hard I put you in your place? Hm, Noona?” 

You earned another spank when you didn’t answer, quickly choking out a meek ‘yes.’ His pace picked up, somehow faster than you thought was possible. His hands grabbed tight at your hips, leaving imprints of where his fingers and rings touched your body.

“Can I cum inside?” Namgyu asked, the first time he sounded so desperate since he’d flipped you onto your hands and knees. “Please, Noona, let me cum. I’ll be better next time, just this time, please. I wanna watch you take it all.”

When he wanted something, Namgyu begged. He wasn’t too proud. Begging to you made his cock twitch in excitement—a reaction only you’d solicited.

You were a mess, unable to respond to his pleas and begs. You squeezed around his cock a few times, hoping that was enough to let him know you were okay with it, and it was.

“Pretty Noona,” he whimpered, fucking you in an erratic pace that showed how close he was. It was overwhelming, with his hands grasping at your skin and his cock stretching you to your limits—you had been fucked so good you couldn’t even speak.

It wasn’t until Namgyu leaned forward and reached around you, a gentle finger finding your clit and rubbing circles, that you came. A sharp gasp caught in your throat, your cunt tightening hard around his thick cock as you pressed your hips back and met his pace a few times until you nearly collapsed. He was right behind you, choking on a moan as he sputtered out ropes of hot cum inside you, filling you so much you knew it would be a pain to clean up.

After he fucked you through his climax, unsteady and shaky thrusts, Namgyu finally collapsed against your back, sighing into your hair as he shifted to settle next to you on the couch. You rolled to lie half-beside and half-on top of him, unmoving and breathing heavily.

“Fuck,” he whispered. He reached between your legs, touching gently through your sticky folds and over your swollen clit. You squirmed, trying to pull away, but you had no room. “Can I fuck you again, Noona?” He asked, and you were surprised that he was using the honorific again. 

You clenched around nothing, causing some of his cum to escape your pussy. His fingers felt it and began to push it back inside you at a lazy pace.

Namgyu kissed your neck, breathing heavily as he inhaled the scent of sweat and lingering vanilla on your skin. He spread his fingers, scissoring them inside you—playing with his cum. You squeezed around him again, whimpering and wrapping your arms around his neck.

“Don’t stop calling me that,” you whispered to him. “Mmm,” he grunted tiredly, lips catching against your neck, “Fine. Noona.”

A/N - read on ao3!

[niniwritesxo]

can u write smth ab baby baby daddy!namgyu? i swear it's been rotting my brain lately .. he'd lowkey be toxic too w u but like 🫷😞🫸

‘you don’t hate me’ AU

nam-gyu x fem reader

warning: nam-gyu is like lowkey an asshole that’s it

✶⋆.˚꩜ .ᐟ˙⋆✶ ✶⋆.˚꩜ .ᐟ˙⋆✶ ✶⋆.˚꩜ .ᐟ˙⋆✶ ✶⋆.˚꩜ .ᐟ˙⋆✶ ✶⋆.˚꩜ .ᐟ˙⋆✶

―୨୧⋆ ˚

the baby’s finally asleep.

her tiny fists are curled near her mouth, chest rising slow, soft puffs of breath against the silence of the room. you hover in the doorway a second longer than you need to. just watching her.

you feel like you haven’t breathed all day.

the apartment is dim when you walk out,

lights off, one flickering candle still burning on the kitchen counter, its wax dried up into ugly shapes. there’s a bottle half-filled with formula. unopened letters. a missed call from your mom.

you don’t even hear the knock at the door.

you just see the handle turn.

“seriously?” you snap, spinning around, already knowing who it is.

nam-gyu steps in like it’s nothing. like you didn’t tell him last time that if he ever came over high again, you’d call the cops.

his hoodie’s half-zipped. his eyes are sharp, jittery. he’s chewing on the inside of his cheek, fingers twitching with leftover energy.

“you left your key,” he says, holding it up with a stupid grin. “thought i’d return it.”

“so you broke in.”

he shrugs. “doors are meant to be opened.”

you stare at him. “are you high?”

“a little.”

“jesus, nam-gyu.”

“relax. i didn’t drive. subong dropped me off.”

“oh, even better.”

he walks in, brushing past you like you don’t even matter, heading for the couch like he owns it. you slam the door shut.

“she’s asleep,” you say through gritted teeth.

“good. means we can talk.”

“we have nothing to talk about.”

he lounges back. “you always say that. then we end up making out against the fridge.”

you go still. “that was a mistake.”

he laughs under his breath, leans his head back against the couch. “sure. mistake with your hands in my hair and your breath all shaky.”

you step closer, arms crossed.

“what do you want?”

“to see her.”

“not when you’re like this.”

he licks his bottom lip, glancing toward the closed nursery door. “she won’t even remember.”

“i will.”

there’s a long pause.

he looks at you now. really looks.

“…you look tired.”

you scoff. “wow. thanks.”

“no, like different. thinner.”

“because i’m keeping a human alive. without help.”

his jaw ticks.

you should stop. but you’re tired. raw. angry.

“and where were you today?” you ask sharply. “we had an agreement.”

“subong needed me.”

“to get high and make one of his stupid music videos in the back of a bar?”

he lifts a brow. “you spying on me now?”

“no. he posted it on his story.”

nam-gyu doesn’t respond.

you take a breath. regretting nothing.

“…you’re pathetic,” you mutter. “still acting like you’re twenty and nothing matters.”

his expression shifts.

slow. cold.

“don’t act like you’re clean,” he says. “you let me fuck you the same night you told your mom we weren’t seeing each other anymore.”

you feel that like a punch.

“fuck you,” you whisper.

he just stands there.

then slowly walks toward you.

“what’s wrong?” he murmurs. “truth too heavy now that you’re a mom?”

you just shove him, hard.

but he just laughs.

“you think you’re better than me now?”

“i’ve always been better than you.”

“yeah?” he steps closer, until your back hits the counter. “then why do you always let me back in?”

your breath catches.

“you don’t get to ask that.”

he leans in.

“why not?”

“because i hate you.”

“no, you don’t.”

his hand slips around your waist. slow. familiar. awful.

you try to twist away, but he doesn’t let you.

“nam-gyu—”

“you don’t hate me.”

his mouth finds your neck. and for a second, you forget how to breathe.

you hate him.

you hate how your body reacts to his voice.

his fingers press into your waist. he drags you closer.

“you miss it,” he whispers. “miss me.”

you dig your nails into his shoulder.

his mouth crashes into yours.

it’s angry. ugly. all tongue and heat and months of silence turned physical. he presses you against the counter like he wants to carve the memory of this into your skin. like he needs it to mean something, even if it doesn’t.

your hands are in his hair again.

your heart’s still breaking.

and you know when he finally pulls away, when he disappears again, when he ghosts your texts for four days straight. it’ll still feel better than the silence he leaves behind.

✶⋆.˚꩜ .ᐟ˙⋆✶ ✶⋆.˚꩜ .ᐟ˙⋆✶ ✶⋆.˚꩜ .ᐟ˙⋆✶ ✶⋆.˚꩜ .ᐟ˙⋆✶ ✶⋆.˚꩜ .ᐟ˙⋆✶

hoped you liked it <3 thank you for the request 🩷

a/n: english is not my first language, if you spot any misspellings or mistakes my apologies 🕯️

[baldieboi]

@ghrgrsfdesfrfg @w-40-k @kinkwii

The first time you bit him Konrad Curze nearly killed you.

His pale hand had wrapped around your throat with the casual efficiency of someone who had ended countless lives and his black eyes were wide with something between shock and fury. You'd simply leaned forward during one of his brooding monologues about justice and terror and sunk your teeth into his shoulder through his dark robes.

"What" he'd hissed, his voice dropping to that dangerous whisper that made serfs flee "do you think you're doing?"

You'd pulled back, tasting something indefinably him on your lips. "Marking you."

The silence stretched between you like a blade's edge. Then he'd laughed ans it was a sound like breaking glass and dying stars.

"Marking me?" His grip loosened slightly. "Little mortal, I am the terror that stalks the night. I am justice incarnate. I am—"

"Mine" you'd interrupted and bit him again.

It becomes a pattern after that. You bite him when he's planning his next campaign of terror. You bite him when he's lost in his visions of death and prophecy. You bite him when he's simply standing there, existing in all his dark, terrible glory.

Konrad pretends to be annoyed. He grumbles about your 'barbaric little habit' and makes grand proclamations about how he should flay you for your insolence. But he never stops you. Never pulls away. Never puts you somewhere you can't reach him.

If anything he seems to lean into it.

"You're worse than a feral cat" he mutters one evening as you work your way along his collarbone. His voice lacks any real heat. If you didn't know better you'd say he sounds almost... fond.

"Mm" you hum against his throat, not pausing in your work. "But I'm your feral cat."

His laugh is quieter this time, more genuine. "Yes" he says and his hand comes up to tangle in your hair, not to pull you away but to hold you closer. "I suppose you are."

The strangest part isn't that you bite him, it's that he lets you. He's torn apart worlds and broken minds with a glance. He could crush your skull between his fingers without effort.

Instead he sits still as a statue while you work your way across his shoulders, his chest, anywhere you can reach. Sometimes he'll tilt his head to give you better access or pull aside his robes to bare more skin for your attention.

"The other primarchs would think me mad" he says one night, watching you with those dark eyes as you settle into his lap.

"Are you?" you ask, pausing with your teeth just barely pressing against his jaw.

"Undoubtedly." His smile is sharp as a blade. "But madness and I are old companions. What's one more?"

You bite down in response and feel him shiver beneath you.

"Why?" he asks you once, in a rare moment of vulnerability. You're curled against his side, absently nibbling at his wrist like it's a particularly interesting snack.

"Why what?"

"Why this? Why... me?"

You consider the question, your teeth still pressed against his pulse point. "Because you're mine" you say finally. "And I want everyone to know it. Including you."

"I could kill you" he reminds you but there's no threat in it. Just a statement of fact like commenting on the weather.

"You could" you agree. "But you won't."

"How can you be so certain?"

You lift your head to meet his gaze, and for once, your smile is as sharp as his. "Because then who would bite you?"

The sound he makes is half laugh, half growl. "Savage little thing" he murmurs but his arms tighten around you.

"Your savage little thing," you correct and lean in to bite him again.

"I had a vision" he tells you one night, his voice distant and hollow. You're working on a particularly stubborn spot just below his ear, trying to get the angle right.

"Mm?" You don't stop your ministrations. His visions are always dark, always terrible. But he tells you about them anyway like sharing the burden makes it lighter.

"I saw myself dying" he continues. "Alone. Abandoned. Forgotten."

You pause, pulling back to look at him. "And?"

"You weren't there."

There's something almost vulnerable in his voice. You lean forward and bite him again, harder this time.

"I'll be there" you tell him fiercely. "Whatever comes. Wherever you go. I'll be there to bite you."

He laughs and this time it's not the sound of breaking glass. It's warmer, more human. "Promise?"

"Promise." You seal it with another bite.

[withluvvenus]

　o͟u͟r͟ ͟f͟i͟r͟s͟t͟ ͟d͟a͟t͟e͟　　𝒆lementary teacher dr

　

“ can i ask you out ? ” 　　“ huh ? ” “ like . . . on a date ? ” 　　“ me ? ” “ i mean if you want ” 　　“ yes , ” “ yes ? like you want - ” 　　“ yes . ”

　

unknown number

　　Hello, this is matthew. From work.　　4:05 PM

me

　　hi matt!　　5:32 PM

matt!!! ( from work )

　　Hey, you told me to contact you at this number? 　　In regards of the date.　　5:32 PM

me

　　yes omg im sooo excited　　5:33 PM

matt!!! ( from work )

　　I'm happy to hear that. 　　I will pick you up at 7:00 PM, okay? 　　Is that okay with you?　　5:34 PM

me

　　matt you already asked me if i was ok w it 　　like 20 times 　　im giggling 　　ily you're so funny never die 　　and yes i'm very much okay with it　　5:36 PM

matt!!! ( from work )

　　Okay. 　　That sounds good to me too. 　　I won't die? 　　See you then.　　5:36 PM

　　

　　　　　　no , the date wasn't anything over the top . but it was eventful , and fun , and loving . i had fun , he had fun , we both had fun . so that's all that matters , right ? here's how it all started . it was a friday , and matt had been very very very distracted the whole day . as he taught the kids , i could just tell something was bothering him . like , he wouldn't even make eye contact with me , which he usually could . scarily good eye contact , makes sense when you're a teacher though .　　anyways , i let it slide . i didn't try to barge into his space and ask him what was wrong , i just let him exist and treated him the same ! during recess , he kept leaving to go to the bathroom or the staff lounge , said it was important . i just nodded and helping the students who stayed behind .

　　　　　　after school , i think that's when i really started noticing something was off and he was acting very odd . like obviously , i could tell before too , but now was different . he walked me to my car , which he only does if it's raining . it was bright and sunny outside , by the way . but anyways , i was like sure ! i like his company , he listens to me talk and it's just calming . we walks to my car , i was oversharing to him , and he was nodding per usual . but then he opens my car door for me , and that's when i realize ' hold on , something is off ' . like he's the type to open doors for you , but i don't know . i looked at him , and his head was down , he was avoiding eye contact . i didn't budge , duh . i wanted to know ! and then he told me . well , he asked me , really .

　　　　　　so we live in a small town in oregon , and there's not much in the town to do when you want to go on a date . well , there is a lot to do in the town , but if you want to hide from a bunch of third graders and their families ? the town isn't the best place for secrecy . so instead , matt took me outside of the town , a couple miles far off but not too far . we made one stop , at this ice cream shop ! he bought me whatever i wanted , i ordered chocolate ice cream with brownie in it . he ordered vanilla , and i obviously made fun of him for it . going back into the car , i asked him why we're skipping to dessert already . he pointed at the backseat and showed me he had takeout ready . takeout from the new restaurant i always talk about on trying . i had the biggest smile on my face when we drove to our final destination . cannon beach !

　　　　　　

　　　　　　he helped me step out of his luxury car , guided me to the beach . i love the beach . how did he know ? i asked him . he told me he listens to me . i think my heart melted and stained my rib cage with the adoration i felt for him just then . but whatever , anyways though , moving on , we found a spot away from the tourists and just sat there . we had ate dinner , watched the sun set , and then had ice cream . we both were giggling fits at the end of it , him grinning and teasing over every fact i told him from when i was little , and me going ' aww ' whenever he told me about his childhood . we talked about how we were when we were little , how different we were . how he didn't like the santa in the mall , and how i loved halloween since i was a little girl . he called me beautiful and i just smiled , not knowing how to tell him how i felt about him . i was hoping he would go first .

　　　　　　he didn't .

　　　

　　　　　　on the way back home , i kept talking to him . but it was different , the silence was just unusual . i couldn't tell it was good or bad . there were more pauses in between our conversations , more gaps to fill . he was focused on the road , it had started to rain heavily . we both were drenched from sprinting to his car , but it was still different . had i done something wrong ? did i screw up ? was i moving too fast ? i hadn't done anything , i don't even know what i was talking to him about actually . i wanted to ask him , even if this date wasn't successful , i didn't want to lose him .

　　　　　　but i didn't ask him .

　　　　　　instead , he parked in front of my house . before i could open my door , he quickly rushed over to open it for me . he helped me out again , taking my hand in his . he rushed me under the porch's shade , and he stood there , holding my hand still . he's looking at me . . . intensely ? i dunno , but before i can say anything he quickly asks ' can i kiss you ? ' . and oh . my . god . my heart fluttered , yes the melted one came back to life , WHATEVER . but yeah , he asked me if he could kiss me ?!?!? so obviouslyyyy i had to tease him even though 20 seconds ago i was freaking out over his whole existence and our whole chemistry .

“ you really wanna kiss on the first date ? are you sure ? ” 　　“ why would i not be ? i mean , if you don't want to- ” “ no ! it's just that it kind of means you have to take me out on a second date ” 　　“ i don't mind ” “ you don't ? ” 　　“ of course not ” “ oh ! ”

　　

　　

　　　　　　　　　　　　　 𝘄𝗶𝘁𝗵𝗹𝘂𝘃 ✶ 𝘃𝗲𝗻𝘂𝘀

　　　　　　　　　　　　　

[farfromharry]

Summary: A late night swim with Lando ends up in an admission of feelings that were a long time coming

lando norris x reader

w/c 1565

A vacation with friends were usually some of your favourite moments. You didn’t always get to see them as often as you would have liked. So when someone suggested a group trip to some island somewhere, you were up for it. But tonight, things just didn’t feel right. The first couple days had been nice, fun and relaxing. By day 4 you were burnt out. The constant presence of other people has drained you in a way you should have really anticipated. Maybe leaving your safe cocoon of your bedroom had been a bad idea after all. You just needed a little ‘you’ time.

At some point, when no one was looking and everyone was laughing, you slipped out. There was a pool outside that you had found yourself drawn to for the last few days. It was nice out there, with the view and the peace. 

You didn’t end up being alone for long. 

“Thought I might find you out here.”

You smiled into your knees. If there was one person that was going to find you out here, it was always going to be him. Some of your friends had mentioned the possibility of Lando joining at some point when the race weekend was over. Max didn’t think he would, what with how busy his schedule was. He would probably want to relax on his own. And then he’d seen the pictures, saw you there smiling and knew he couldn’t stay away. He didn’t see you anywhere near as much as he would like to. 

He came and sat beside you without a word. Any normal person would have asked if you wanted company. Sitting out here surely meant you wanted to be alone. Lando’s company was different. It didn’t feel like you were trying to put on an act. You could be yourself with him and there was no judgement. He knew things worked both ways. 

For a while you both sat quietly. Simply being. 

It was you who ended up being the first to break the silence. “Everything was just getting a little too loud in there. Needed to breathe.”

“You don’t have to explain yourself to me.” He got it. A little too well actually. His whole life was a little too loud. He knew what it was like to be forced to socialise when it was the very last thing he wanted to do. Sometimes it’s important to take a break for yourself.

A sigh. He could tell it was one of relief. You didn’t need to pretend now. 

It was so nice to be around someone that just got you. “Missed you.” You remembered a time when you used to go to all his races. Back when he first started in F1 you were his number one cheerleader. Then life and work got in the way. Now it just wasn’t realistic. You wished you got to spend more time with him, but he was far too busy living his crazy lifestyle. And you would never make him feel bad for living his life. 

Your words created a flutter of something in his chest. “Missed you more.” That was the complete truth. There was something he felt when hanging out with you that he didn’t ever feel with someone else. You completed a part of him he was unaware was incomplete. 

Eventually Lando got tired of sitting still, something he did often. He got to his feet, pulling his hoodie over his head. Your brow furrowed. It wasn’t exactly boiling, so you had no idea why he was taking off his layers. It didn’t stop where you thought it was going to. Next came his shirt, then his joggers and finally his socks. Only when he stood there in nothing but his underwear did you have some idea what he was about to do. 

He noticed you eyeing him. Obviously he couldn’t just let it go. “What, you want the boxers off as well?”

You managed a laugh, a very nervous one at that, but your cheeks burned nonetheless. It wasn’t exactly something you hadn’t ever thought about. His flirting caught you off guard a lot though. He enjoyed every second of it. 

With a yell, he took off running, taking a dive into the crystal clear water below. 

“What are you doing?” The laugh that slipped out was completely involuntary. All your previous emotions were quickly replaced by bubbling laughter. 

He emerged from the water with a cheeky grin, shaking the water out of his hair like a dog. You rolled your eyes, splashing him back. It didn’t phase him. He simply shoved his hair out of his eyes and continued looking at you with a menacing look. He was up to something. 

In response to your question, he shrugged his shoulders. “Taking a dip. It’s nice in here. You should join me.” He waved his arms in the water, keeping himself afloat, but his eyes were permanently locked on you.

Considering you had come out here to get away from the chaos inside, you didn’t seem to hesitate when he wanted you to join him. He was transfixed when you pulled off your shirt. It filled you with a sense of power you didn’t know you could feel. With anyone else you would have hated the attention, but you were hopelessly gone for this one. You didn’t want him to ever stop looking at you.

Your shorts came off next. He whistled. You rolled your eyes.

A split second was all it took for you to make the decision to go through with it. Your choice of dive was a cannonball. Something to make the biggest splash possible just to bother him. 

Swimming in your underwear with the man you were in love with was freeing in a way you didn’t expect. There was more laughter from you in the past 10 minutes than you’d had all holiday. It was the effect he had on you.

At some point he’d stopped messing around, his eyes softening when he looked at you. The look he was giving you was too inviting to turn down.

You were the one to swim into his arms. 

There had always been some kind of unspoken thing between you. Things were easy with him. They felt right. But it was unclear to both of them why they had never acted on it. Maybe he didn’t want to drag you into his crazy world, the one that included hate and expectations, not to mention the lack of privacy. Maybe you didn’t feel like you belonged in his world. You weren’t a celebrity, or someone who wanted all that attention. You were just you and you liked it like that. But you also like Lando. And you like Lando a whole lot more than any of those other things.

With your arms around his neck, his own took your waist, keeping you pressed close to him. His head tucked into your neck allowing you to card your fingers through his soggy curls. You felt his breath against your skin as he sighed with content. For a short period of time, you just held each other. 

The first kiss to your skin caught you by surprise. His lips against your neck. It was a foreign feeling, though one you could get used to; would rather like to get used to. When you didn’t immediately push him away or react with disgust, he kept going. Another kiss to your jaw, the corner of your mouth. Then he wanted your permission. 

His eyes flickered between yours and your lips, silently asking the question. It was a wonder he couldn’t hear your heartbeat. His nose brushed against yours, thumb tracing your cheekbone. He wanted you to know this was more than just a random act of lust. “I think I love you,” he whispered. There was no ‘think’ about it really. He was just scared of rejection if he bared his heart. 

A breath left your lips. Your heart was pounding. Oddly, you were still at ease. Where you thought a million and one things would be running around in your head, it was quiet up there. You had been unknowingly waiting for this admission. “I know I do. Now, please kiss me.”

Who was he to say no?

Your lips met in a kiss that had been coming for years. 6 years worth of affection poured into one single act. It was overwhelming. It was almost enough to bring you to tears. You never knew you needed Lando like this. Now that you had him, you didn’t think you could ever go back to the unspoken feelings from before. 

If it weren’t for oxygen, you would have kissed him for hours on end. He couldn’t resist stealing one more kiss though. 

The kiss had been coming for so long that it didn’t need to be addressed. So neither of you spoke about it. He focused on something else instead. “They’re totally watching us, right now,” he muttered. How he knew, you had no idea. Maybe he felt their eyes on them.

Your head turned, looking right at the sliding glass doors where your friends were in fact all standing there, watching. They scattered as soon as they knew they’d been caught, pretending they hadn’t done anything. You laughed. Nothing was going to spoil the bubble you were in.

[samvaru]

Hello! I really like your Zoey streamer AU , it is such a fun and cute idea! I made my own headcanons about this, and I would like to share with you if it's not a bother :)

- Mira is a professional dancer and choreographer, she's not a super pop star but already did some routines and participated in presentations for famous artists out there;

- She's growing exponentially known in her field of work and things are looking pristine now, but she had a rough start (family didn't support, money problems, etc)

- Zoey is obviously a streamer, she is somewhat big but still has a lot of room to grow. Her main content is streamed gameplays, but sometimes she does Q&A streams (the girls joins her sometimes because since she showed her roomates once people never stopped asking about them); She also make reaction lives and videos;

- She is also cooking some new video formats, more in line with her hobbies of skateboarding and composing songs (although this last one she is still unsure about if she should invest on it, my girl's is yet a little insecure about her talents)

- Nobody's really sure what Rumi does lol. I mean, the girls definitely have a grasp of it, but Zoey´s community cannot guess and that is one of the biggest memes and discussions they have going on. Rumi never enter in details about her routine and the girls only laugh and offer unserious answers for it (Zoey likes to go specific crazy about the options);

- Rumi socials are just photos of her friends, her cat and nice landscapes. She barely comments on anything that isn't her girls';

- The main theory is that Rumi either have an unusual, NDA job or she simply does not need one (some invested followers analyzed her clothes and accessories and many of them seemed to be from quiet luxury brands), making her the probable heir of some big unknown rich family; The truth? a secret ;)

Anyway I gonna end here, thank you love your art!

HELLO OMG!! IT DOESNT BOTHER ME AT ALL. honestly i encourage it, yesterday i wanted to ask to give me prompts or ideas for the AU cuz im kinda(VERY) indecisive but then i got scared of "what if ppl arent thAt interested on the au or ignore my post.....". SO THANK YOU SOMUCH FOR THIS

yesterday i was talking with my friends, kinda discussing abit of what every girl do in the AU, and its so funnybto see that we agree in a way or another in the idea that Rumi doesnt talk AT ALL about herself, shes the most private and probably doesnt post much on social media JGSADFGAJSDFASDF

oahhh but all these hc are sooo goodd and i agree very much on them, im gonna add them into the AU if u allow me !!!

also gonna add rn (just bc, its probably the next thing im gonna draw LMAO) is that mira Perphaps does a bit of modeling too, could be for a dancing academy or some streamer merch or some local business. i just wanted an excuse to draw mira w a beautiful dress and zoey wearing the some jorts and a oversized shirt JYGUIAGSDFSAD

[fan-a-saurus-rex]

Jawline

Plot: Joaquin’s jawline really turns you on, especially when he unknowingly flexes it

Pairing: Joaquin Torres x Reader

Requested: no, but it was inspired by this post by @g1g1l (my requests are always open though 😊)

Warnings: slight smut (making out, a little mild dirty talk, mentions of sex, implied sex) established relationship cause boyfriend Joaquin is my weakness (you know he’s yours too, don’t lie to me 😉), mentions of starting a family

Masterlist

You noticed it one day while watching him work at his computer. That little flex in his jaw. That perfect fucking jawline.

After that, you noticed it a lot more. It would happen if he was irritated by something, thinking really hard, focusing on something, even sometimes when he smiled.

It was oddly attractive to you.

One night while the two of you were working late in the office at your apartment you decided to bring it up.

“You do this cute thing when you focus. Your jawline flexes.” You said

He chuckled at you “what? I don’t do that” he said

“Yes you do!” You said giggling “you do it while you’re focusing on work” you said

“Is that so?”

You nodded “yeah, it’s kinda hot” you admitted.

“Really?” He asked pondering, his jaw flexing without him knowing.

“You’re doing it right now” you said getting up from your chair and standing in front him. He reached out to hold your hips and you sat down, straddling his lap.

“What are you gonna do about it?” He asked grinning.

“This” you said quietly as you leaned down to kiss along his jawline, up to his ear then down his neck.

“Mmm, baby” he groaned quietly as his grip on your hips tightened.

“You like that?” You whispered into his ear.

“You know I do” he said smirking.

You smirked back and pulled away from him. You got up off his lap.

“W-wait, baby where are you going?” He asked, trying to pull you back.

“I’ve got work to finish, you can wait” you said with a wink.

He whimpered a bit and sat back in his chair. You could see his jaw flexing again. You knew you had him right where you wanted him, but you were gonna make him wait for it.

* * * * *

After finally finishing up with work you went to the kitchen to get something to drink. Joaquin had finished up work a few hours ago and you weren’t sure what he was up to. You grabbed a bottle of water out of the fridge and took a long sip before setting the bottle on the counter.

Within seconds you felt your body being lifted up and your butt hitting the countertop. Joaquin’s lips were on yours, your legs wrapping around his torso.

“Done working for the night?” He mumbled against your lips

“Yeah” you said smirking

“Thank god, you’re all mine now” he said before pulling you closer to him, kissing you passionately.

You let your hands slip into his dark curls, tugging at them slightly. You knew how much he loved that. He groaned softly before lifting you off the counter and carrying you into the bedroom.

He sat down on the bed, you straddling his lap, as the two of you kissed each other like the world might end. He scooted back till he was leaning against the headboard, his hands sliding down your back to cup the bottoms of your ass cheeks.

The two of you hadn’t made out like this in a while. It was either quick kisses or rough sex. You loved being with him like this because it gave you a chance to explore each other more romantically.

Your hands slid under his shirt, tracing all the contours of his bare skin. He pulled away from the kiss just long enough to pull his shirt off, along with yours. He was surprised to see you weren’t wearing a bra. Who could blame you? Bras are uncomfortable and you were working from home today anyway, no need to force yourself to be uncomfortable by putting on a bra.

You smirked slightly and wrapped your arms around his neck, pressing your chests flush against each other. You knew how much he liked having your bare breasts lying against his skin.

You heard a light moan slip from his lips as you continued kissing him, the skin-to-skin contact cause electricity to course through your veins.

Your hands made their way up to cup his cheeks as you kissed you. You felt him clench his jaw a bit, causing his jawline to flex.

“Mmm, you’re doing that on purpose” you whispered.

“You like it”

“I do, very much” you said kissing down his jawline. He continues to purposely flex his jaw under your lips. You smirk and bite down on the area where his jawline meets his neck, eliciting a low moan to erupt from his chest.

“You loved it” you whispered in his ear

“I did. Do it again” he said breathlessly.

You bit down a bit harder in the same spot, then kissed across his throat biting down on the other side of his neck.

“Mm, baby” he groaned pulling you closer

You grinned and leaned down to kiss him again. You sucked in his bottom lip, biting down on it gently before he slipped his tongue between your lips. You let his tongue slide along yours as your hands roamed each other’s bodies.

His hands eventually landed on the bottoms of your ass cheeks, squeezing them gently. You reached down to the elastic of your cotton shorts and shifted to pull them down, leaving you in just your cheeky panties.

“God, you’re killing me baby” he groaned, squeezing your cheeks again.

“You started it” you said smirking as you kissed his neck.

“How?”

“Flaunting your sexy ass jawline” you said smirking.

“Not on purpose” he said chuckling “you’re teasing me with intent”

“Guilty” you whispered, biting his earlobe.

You spent the next half hour worshipping each other. Gentle touches, whispered sweet nothings, breathless kisses. And then Joaquin did a complete 180.

He was kissing your neck, his hands roaming your thighs. “I wanna put a baby in you so bad…” he whispered in your ear.

You froze for a minute “like…for real?” You asked.

“Yes. Someday” he said “I can’t see myself with anyone except you. I want a future with you, a marriage, a family, a nice house in the suburbs instead of this small apartment”

“Joaquin…” you said with a happy sigh. “I’d love that”

He smiled at you and kissed you softly. “I’ll get you a beautiful ring when I can afford it” he said softly “but um….we could start trying for a baby now” he said smirking.

You giggled “it won’t do any good, I’m still on the pill” you said “but since we’re both on the same page here, I’ll call my doctor in the morning to talk about getting off my birth control. But we can still….you know….have fun” you said smirking.

He chuckled and flipped you over on the bed “I I tend to….all night”

[bahrtofane]

home is where the heart is

Hiccup x run away princess! Reader

in which you’re thousands of miles away from your home you fled. Now calling the edge home after months of tracking the dragon master till you were face to face with a man no older then yourself, with round eyes and a need to figure you out.

But whispers travel fast on the wind, disturbing everything you’ve built for yourself.

Word count - 4.4k+

Watch it - some angst w happy ending dw

Im binge watching race to the edge can u tell

On most days Hiccup barely has the time to think. 

There's so much to do, so much to be done. There's always more waiting for him. Go do his rounds, come back and deal with the endless squabbling that never ends, go out again and add more watch towers, do a lap around the island, patrol the neighboring ones, come back and yell some more till everyone listens, see who actually did what he asked of them, eat dinner and pray they listen to his new list of things to do for the next day. Rinse and repeat. 

And yet at the end of a day, when his bones ache and muscles are sore. Stiff and aching from the hours hunched over toothless, he’s glad he has you. 

He doesn’t know how to properly say it, not yet at least. He’s never been good with words in a way that really matters. Always failing him, never making it past more than a faint breath past his lips as the words fade into the wind. He wishes he could be more like the twins, pushing past any judgment and saying whatever they wish when they wish. But he is not them, and instead he tells you he’s happy that you’ve made the edge a home. 

He remembers the day you came to them. You had come searching for him specifically, begging for the knowledge that no one around you had. Which was funny considering you arrived on your own dragon. A desert wraith. Not many of those around here. 

Rmel is a dragon so unlike any he’s ever seen. Tidal class, yet completely content out of the water. He thrives in the sand. Burying deep into it. Breathing with it. You two complement each other. 

Here you are months later, with your own modest hut on the edge and more knowledge than you could have ever hoped for. And a few scars for your troubles. But it's a good life. 

Unfortunately, your time comes to an end and you have to go back to your home soon. Your real home. Hiccup has forgotten what it’s like around here without you. But it’s not your place to call your own. It's time to pack up and head out. If not for you, for Rmel. 

That's what you will continue to tell yourself. To avoid the trouble of thinking about your actions. 

—--

Hiccup finds you laying on the sand, watching the clouds as they roll in. 

“Hey there stranger.” He calls out, slipping off Toothless is one smooth motion.

You smile, sitting up and patting the sand off you. Rmel is half buried in it. But beach sand can never replace his true habitat. Can't replace what you’ve left behind. 

“Hey Hiccup.” you watch as Rmel comes out of the sand to say hello to Toothless, jumping up and down as they play. 

He takes a seat next to you, sighing softly. “You know, your hut will always be here.” an invitation. Stay please, he wants to say. 

You smile, "I know. But I have been away for too long. It’s not good for him.” It's not my place to stay. 

“I understand.” I don’t, don't go. 

But does he? No, not really. No one here does.

Oh well. 

—--

“Are you sure? You've made your own home here.” Astrid says, handing you a pile of metal as you sort through the store house. 

“What else is there for me to do? Rmel needs the desert, and I miss my home.” a white lie. The words home betray you as you say them, what is your home at this rate. 

“I know but- it’s nice having you around. We all think so.” she tries. And it only tugs at your heart. 

“I have my own duties.” 

“You and Hiccup are the same, you know. Always thinking of the people before yourselves. “ 

You shrug, “it’s the duty my birth has assigned to me.” a well repeated mantra that's been hammered into you for longer than you can remember. If you dare to reap the benefits of your birth, you must answer its calls. You mustn’t ignore your duties. 

How silly considering you ran away from them, only to regret it all on an island thousands of miles away from everything you know. 

You don't tell Astrid this, you tell no one. Instead you finish setting the mental scraps in the corner, old weapons in other. On to the next task. 

Astrid doesn’t say much more. Not thinking too deeply into the words

—-

“Fishlegs!!” A yell comes from above. You crane your neck to watch as Snotlout comes barreling into his hut, screaming as if all hell broke loose. 

You hold back and laugh as you watch Hiccup groan so loudly it wakes Toothless up next to him. He marches up to the hut, yelling obscenities and waving his arms around wildly. 

“What is going on?” Heather muses, back from patrol, sunkissed and watching the spectacle unfold fondly. 

“Oh Hiccup is going to kill Snotlout.” Ruffnut replies, flipping through a modest pile of sheep hide. 

“Thats nice..” she takes her leave, heading to her own hut and waving everyone a collective goodbye.

You sigh, leaning back in your chair farther, trying to make out if Hiccup is punching Snotlout or biting his ear off. Could be either or honestly. You'll miss this. 

—

You get knocked out of the sky during a training drill, Rmel isn't fast enough and you end up in the water. Thankfully close enough to swim to shore. 

“Thank you Rmel! All that training and you can't catch me from the sky!” you yell, fist in the air. 

Hiccup flies down with Rmel by his side. He bites back a smile as you wring your clothes out. Your dragon is indifferent, watching you grumble. 

“Dont even.” you warn.

He laughs anyway, “Im sorry im sorry!” 

You sigh, "I'm going to hide your leg then who will laugh.” 

It only makes him laugh harder as you stomp up to him, waving a finger in his face. “You will be the next in the water just wait.”

The laughs sputter and die in his throat as he looks at you with wide eyes. Watching the water droplets drip from your eye lashes, down to your lips. Where his eyes become fixated on. Unable to look away. 

You turn on your heel to scold your dragon. Ignoring him. 

Hiccup thinks you just might be the most gorgeous thing he's ever seen. More than a sunset at Berk, more than when the clouds give way to clear skies. More than anything at all. 

It hits him all at once really, the sinking realization that these really are the last few times he will be able to look at you like that. 

—

“Oh well today is ‘everyone hates Hiccup’ day then!” comes a shout from the armory. 

You turn to investigate, peeking inside and finding a very exasperated Hiccup on his knees digging through piles of weapons. 

“What are you doing?” you close the door behind you. 

“Oh, I'm glad to see you. Do you have any spare iron ore? I would say I'm on my last leg but it fell into the ocean." He points to his stump.

“I do not. But fishless does. Need a hand?” you offer your hand and he gladly takes it. Steadying himself as you wrap his arms around you for better support. Guiding him out of the armory and to his precious iron ore. 

You try not to pay attention too closely to the details. The curl of his fingers where they rest cautiously on your hip. His steady breathing. Just how close your faces are. Why did it have to be Hiccup? Beautiful smart Hiccup. 

You would use your dragon, but you sent Rmel off to play on the beach for the afternoon. Go figure when you really need him huh. 

“Thanks again.” Hiccup mumbles, trying to concentrate and walking with only one foot. 

“No problem.” you hum. 

You get to fishlegs, even if your hands are clammy and face warmer then it was where you entered that storage room. 

Fishlegs only squints but takes Hiccup inside. Well you know what everyone's going to talk about at dinner. 

—--

“Go after her, or watch her fly away.” Heather says, watching Hiccup work on his newest creation. Well its more a hunk of gronkle iron right now but not the point. 

Hiccup can only sigh. “I can’t force anyone to stay here.” Hammering away at his work. 

“Yes, but you also can’t say anything.” Heather tries. 

“Why not. It's easy.” he grunts. “ I can go about my life,” thwap goes the hammer,  Settle down and forget.” the hot sizzle of coal echoes. 

“But will you truly forget? You aren't the most subtle Hiccup. Trust me.” she crosses her arms, raising a brow. 

Hiccup stops to look up at her, brows furrowed. 

Is he really that obvious? 

—-

“I heard you're leaving.” Snotlout says. Watching you get ready for one of your last patrols. 

“Not right now.” you mumble, tightening your girth and checking your buckles. 

“I know.” 

You don't say much more. Putting a few rations of food into a satchel. Scratching Rmell behind the ears for his good behavior. Should be everything. You hoist yourself up on the saddle, watching Snoutlout cross his arms. 

“Listen I know its breaking your heart to part from this much viking manliness-” 

You tsk. 

“But think about sticking around some. You know, it'll be cool.” 

You don't reply. Curling your fingers into the reins and taking flight. You don't look back, if you would you'd see Hiccup peek from around the corner, shaking his head while Snotlout shrugs. 

“I tried!” 

“Really Snotlout because she didn't seem to listen to a single ‘manly viking’ thing you had to say.” 

“You talk to her Hiccup why send me come on.” he storms off, muttering under his breath. 

In hindsight sending in Snotlout probably wasn't the best idea. But he was the only one available. 

Hiccup really does need to talk to you. 

—-

“When do you leave?” is the first thing Hiccup says to you when you're back from patrolling. 

You look around to an empty room “Where is everyone?” 

“Back on Berk. Picking up supplies.” 

“Okay,” you hop off your saddle, “I'm leaving in 2 weeks.” Undoing the girth and sliding the saddle from Rmel who rumbles in happiness. “I know buddy I know. Feels good huh.” you mumble into his neck, resting your head against him. 

“You always take his saddle off?” you're reminded Hiccup is in the same room. You've been trying to avoid him. 

“Of course I do. Don't you think it would be uncomfortable if you had to wear it 24/7?”

“Well yes but what if you need to get in the air fast.” 

“Then I'll ride him with no saddle. You complicate things, you know that Hiccup.”

“So I've been told.” he sighs. “Listen, I'm serious about you staying. We could use the extra dragon, and it looks like you could use a place to call home too.”

“I have a home Hiccup. This isn't my home.” You wave to the space around you. “You aren't my people, you don't speak the same tongue, you don't have the same way of life, I'm not one of you I will never be.”  don't make this harder then it is. 

The words sting, but he presses on. “Nonsense, you're always welcome here you know that.” 

“Listen, I know you need all the dragon ridders you can get around here but my people need me. You're not the only one with a father who leaves big shoes to fill.”

“I didn't know im-”

“I’d prefer if no one knows okay. I have my duties as do you. And mine are to return. Please don't ask me to stay again.” 

“Okay.” he gives in, nodding softly. 

—-

“You and Hiccup huh.” Astrid teases. 

You are both out patrolling. Spending 2 days doing the rounds before going back to the edge. They're using you while they can before you leave it seems. You don't blame them. 

You groan. “No! There's nothing going on.”

“Right right.. Sure.” she hums, nodding along. 

“Oh come on I haven't even been here that long. Besides, aren't you guys like, you know an item.”

She laughs, clutching her stomach while trying not to lose balance off of Stormfly. “No. I kissed him once or twice sure when we were kids but he’s not exactly my type.”

You roll your eyes, clutching onto your reins. “Sure sure.” 

—

“Youre seriously leaving? But we've made so much progress with the book!” Fishlegs says at dinner. 

You try not to let your eye twitch. “Yes. I'm sorry but I have to.” 

“Whose leaving.” Tuffnut says, wiping his head to you. 

“Leaving who?” Ruffnut echoes. 

You groan, putting your hands in your head. “Me. I'm leaving. It's me.”

“It is because she smells like fish. It's okay I'd leave if we didn't ride the same dragon.” Tuffnut nods. 

“Shes leaving because you never stop talking.” His sister rolls her eyes. “You can't go wrong smelling like fish anyway.” 

“No she's leaving because you guys are annoying," Snotlout says.

“No really please reconsider, for the book! It just needs a little more and we can even make a second edition.” Fishlegs tries again. 

“Guys enough.” Astrid tries, but it falls on deaf ears as everyone begins to debate the reason for you leaving. 

“She doesn't have to tell anyone, guys.” Hiccup says, but it gets drowned out by the rising voices. 

“I left but came back, maybe she's doing the same.” Heather shrugs. 

Everyone's voices overlap at once, giving you a migraine. You get up, shoving your chair in harshly, taking your dinner with you and leaving. 

“Geez someone's upset.” 

“Shut up Snotlout.”

—

Hiccup follows you. Of course he does. He comes to your hut, banging on the door and not taking your go aways as an answer. 

“Im not leaving!” he shouts from the door. 

You're crying. You don't know why but you're crying. Tears streaming down your face as you watch the moon rise from your window. 

Why must things become so complicated? Why are you so far from everything you know just for the chance and feeling in control for once in your life? 

You did everything asked of you, and now for just the start of freedom you are forced to pay dearly. 

The shouts and knocking stops, and a part of you wishes he would've tried harder. But you are too hard headed, cold hearted and mean it means for anyone to want to try harder for you. All you care about is chasing a feeling you dreamt up in the corner of your room as a child. Sticking your hands under the sun to feel a warmth that can not be replicated. 

You should leave now, no? 

—--

You manage to get Rmel ready in record time, slipping out the back of your hut and taking flight with blurry vision and a heavy heart. What you don't see is a night furry hot on your tail. 

“Stop! Don't leave now!” Hiccup's voice sounds from behind you. 

You wipe the tears from your face, slowing down till he flies beside you. “What do you want, Hiccup? Just let me leave. “ 

“Come on, I'm sorry for the way they acted, but don't make any rash decisions.” 

“There's nothing more to decide. I'm on my way home. “

“No you're not.” 

You turn to look at him with enough furry to knock him out of the sky. “Dont tell me what to do Hiccup.” 

“Im not trying to!” 

You glare at him, “That's exactly what you're doing.”

“You don't have all your things, your girth isn't tightened. You're slipping right and you haven't noticed. Just- come back so we can get you properly sorted out.” He pleads. 

“I don't care.” 

“Dont do anything you will regret.” he tries. 

You look down, your center of balance is off. Your girth is hanging open, you're missing a lot of equipment honestly. It's not worth running Rmel to the ground to prove a point. You fly in silence for 10 minutes before you stop. 

“Just you.” you mumble. “I don't want anyone else to see me.”

He smiles. “Then no one will. You have my word.”

Silently you follow Hiccup back to the edge, landing back to your hut. 

—-

You work in silence refitting your saddle, tying your knots and double checking everything. Toothless is half asleep while Rmel fights off his own exhaustion. All the patrolling has really given him a run for his money. 

Hiccup is on the other side of him, fitting a satchel to his underbelly. 

You can't leave now, you risk him falling out of the sky. 

“Hiccup, stop. I can't leave now.” you mumble softly. 

He looks up at you so tenderly it's as if you're the moon. Shining his way.  “Okay.” 

So he helps you take everything off. Setting it in the corner and letting Rmel go to bed. “I should take Toothless to bed.” 

“Come back after?”

He perks up.” I will.” 

—-

He comes back as promised. Sitting in your one chair while you sit criss-cross in yours, now in your pjs. 

“What made you change your mind?” he picks at his fingers. 

“Rmel, you. He’s in no shape to fly all the way home. I would be cruel to ask him that.” 

He hums, “You don't owe me an explanation, but why do you need to go back?” 

“I need to go back to get married, Hiccup.”

Silence. 

“It’s my duty to my people. You understand as the son of the chief. Our roles are so much different to everyone around us. And mine is to marry well. To bridge gaps through alliances. I have studied my whole life for this, and I finally feel ready to actually do it.”

You bite back the feeling of a lie. 

You escaped the first engagement, your intention was to stay here. Far away from where anyone could find you. But with news of a brewing war between your home and that of your ex fiance, you are the only hope to end the budding violence. 

You crave freedom more than you can ever express. And you got it with Rmel, but as everything in this life, it costs a price. A hefty one of war. You can not live while your home becomes painted in bloodshed. All because you wanted something more. You wanted to be selfish. 

The neighboring prince is pig-headed, stubborn, with very little interests outside of ruling. But if it means saving your people then so be it. You were promised to him and you ran. Now you answer to war. 

“That's not the real reason is it?” he whispers. 

You look away. “What is it to you?”

“I care about you. You've been here for just about a year you think I'd just let you loose without trying to understand.”

You sigh. “It's complicated.”

“Everything in life is.” he tries, getting up and taking a seat right next to you. Hand on your knee. He’s warm, radiating heat that feels closer to the feeling of sunbathing on a cool fall day. Closer to the one you've been chasing. 

“I’ll tell you about it some time.” you rest a hand on top of his, smiling softly.  “Thank you Hiccup. Really.” you give him a chast kiss on the cheek. And he blooms pink like a tulip in May. 

“Of course. I'll let you sleep.” he slips out of your door and you try to sleep. But your worst fear is coming true. Falling for another while on your way to go home and get married to end a possible war. 

What a life you live. 

—-

You tell Hiccup, you tell him everything. It becomes too much. 

“I have to go back. Too many will die and it will be on my hands.” You confess, huddled in the corner of his room. 

“How do you know it's true?” his face is grim, hand on your shoulder while you pour your heart out. 

“I have an inside man, my cousin who's been keeping in correspondence.”

“And you trust him?” 

“With my life.” 

Hiccup shakes his head, “verify the information before you leave. Any can be a trap. Trust me.”

“How? Go all the way there to see if it's a war and then come back?” your shoulders sag, eyes narrowing. 

“No. We’ll ask Johan. He’s been south.” 

Johan. Oh you know him. Who doesn't. 

—-

“Ah Princ-”

“Oh Johan, so good to see you too!” you interrupt him with a glare. 

He sighs. “Yes, very good to see you, this far north.” 

The other riders and Berkians are busy looking through his ship while you and Hiccup look for answers. 

“Any news from down south?” you ask. 

“Same old same old. Your father is furious at you leaving. But he’s sort of adopted a policy where you don't exist.” he strokes his beard thoughtfully. 

“Thats nice. And the war?” 

He blinks. “War. What war? With the mosquitos sure. But no bloodshed on that side of the sea as far as I know.” 

“Are you absolutely sure Johan?” Hiccup stresses. 

“Master Hiccup, what would I gain by lying? The young woman seeks to stay in Berk, that is her business. I continue my trade through her sea ports nonetheless.” 

—

Hiccup takes you for a ride with him, to clear your mind and give Rmel a break. 

“You know, when I first started flying I had this little cheat sheet for his tail.” he tells you fondly. 

You hum, arms wrapped around him and face pressed into his back. “How many times did you crash?”

“Honestly not that many. could have been way worse but we sorta just I don't know- clicked.”

“I knew Rmel since he was a weee hatchling. He used to play in our garden before he got too big.” you chuckle. 

“Yeah? I wonder what Toothless looked like as a baby.” Toothless whines at the mention of his name, shaking his head. 

“Hmm prolly a small little guy, less spines. Soft.” 

“Sounds about right.” he chuckles softly. 

“Knowing him for that long made it much easier to ride him. I was a friend.”

“Cant say the same for us.” he clicks his tongue.  “I shot him out of the sky.” he mutters. 

“Oh I've heard. Quite the coming of age story.” you tease. 

You feel him laugh, “that it is. What was yours? Coming of age story.”

“This is.”

He brings a hand to cup yours, letting Toothless cruise through the clouds with ease. Bringing your hand to his lips, pressing a chaste kiss. You're only making it worse for yourself. 

—--

“I have to go see for myself.” you tell Hiccup. 

He lets you go. Even though he knows if it is true, you won't come back. He helps you pack up, fingers brushing against yours and you tie your leather together. Buckling pieces and looping knots. 

“Thank you for everything Hiccup. If I don't come back-”

“Dont say that. Have faith.” He stops you before you can finish, holding your hands. 

“Do you?” you look at him, eyes searching his.

“I do.” he whispers, pressing a kiss to your lips. 

You part, looking into his eyes for the last time before you are set for the skies. For a home you fear will never be as you left it. 

—--

As your oasis town comes into view your heart drops in anticipation of the worst, but in the end you were right after all. It isn't the same, it will never be. 

The father you once treasured more than life itself tries to shoot you out of the sky the moment you are seen in the clouds. Standing from his perch on a watch tower commanding legions of the men who were sworn royal to you, now raising their arrows into the sky, right at you. That's okay. 

You manage to make it to your cousin's home. It's empty save for a few scrolls. When you open them your heart drops. 

His handwriting has been copied, word for word letter for letter. They've found out he was speaking to you. There lies a single note on the wall, marked with the nickname he used for you growing up. 

To my little princess. If you're reading this it means I too have long left. I will find you, do not fear. But your search for freedom has inspired more than you know. Until next time, little dragon.  

And Johan's words are confirmed. There is no war. It was all to get you back. It’s time to go back to the home you've been building. 

“Youre not my daughter you hear me! You're a pathetic excuse for a princess!” Your father roars, shooting any kind of weapon he can get his hands on. You only smile. Looking down at the people, safe and sound. Going about their days, even if their minds have been filled with hatred for you. It will heal in due time. 

Your brother, the oldest prince will take the throne, your sister will mary, and you will become like a phantom. Only spoken of on occasions that deem it a necessity. But your family has chosen their side. And it is not with you. 

You will never be a princess again. Gone are the days of lavish nights and slow mornings. Your wealth is reduced to nothing more than what you can carry. Once smooth hands now replaced with callused ones from holding reigns for hours on end. 

A completely reimagined version of yourself. One that dares to take what you yearn for.  Something that was almost taken from you. 

You hope the neighboring prince is having a horrible day. 

It's time to head back. After Rmel gets his fill of desert sand of course. 

—

You come back to the edge 4 months after you first left. Lights on and everyone is home for dinner. Perfect. 

A dramatic dismount is in order, diving from the sky and shooting a few shots. Heads peek out and shouting before it dissolves into shouts of joy, of cheers. 

“Miss me?” you don't have a second more to speak before everyone piles onto you for a hug. 

“Oh thank thor.” Hiccup sighs when you manage to break away from the pile. 

You laugh, loud and bright. “No war after all.” you hum. 

He kisses your lips, slotting them against yours as you hold into his arms desperately. You get a few fake gags but you only roll your eyes. It's good to be back. 

[chrissssssmut]

can i request cheater idol wonyoung x male reader whose hopelessly inlove with her, wonyo just wont break up or let go of him but kept on doing him dirty and mc being the lovesick fool he is and kept on forgiving her at first he was so heartbroken by it but then just cant let go of her too so in the end he just pretend he dont notice

YOU KNEW AND STAYED ANYWAY

Wonyoung x Male Reader

tags: angst, cheating, emotional manipulation, denial, poor reader

Your phone vibrates at 1:38 AM.

Again.

It’s her. Of course it’s her.

Wonyoung:

“Open the door. I forgot my keys.”

You stare at the text for longer than necessary. Not because you're surprised she’s coming back this late. You’ve long stopped being surprised. It's the fact that you're still here. Still waiting. Still hoping.

The front door creaks open, and she walks in like she owns the place.

Because she does.

Not the apartment—but you.

“Hey,” she says casually, kicking off her heels like she didn’t just spend the last seven hours God-knows-where with God-knows-who. Her lipstick is slightly smudged. The scent of some foreign cologne clings faintly to her dress.

You don’t ask. You just stare.

“Don’t look at me like that,” she sighs, brushing past you and heading to the bathroom. “It’s late. I’m tired. Can we not do this tonight?”

Do what, exactly?

You sit back on the couch, chewing the inside of your cheek. Your knuckles are white around your phone. You could ask her. You should ask her. But the words don’t come out. They never do. Because the truth? You already know.

She’s fucking someone else.

Probably more than one person.

And yet—you still love her. God, you love her so much it makes your chest ache.

She returns in a hoodie—your hoodie—and curls up beside you on the couch like nothing’s wrong. Like she didn’t break you again. Like she doesn’t keep breaking you.

“You waiting long?” she mumbles, burying her face in your shoulder.

You hesitate. “...No.”

She hums softly. “You always wait.”

“I always will.”

She doesn’t reply. But the corners of her lips curve up into the smallest, most dangerous smile.

It wasn’t always like this.

Back then—when she was still new to the idol scene and you were still her secret—she looked at you like you were the only person in her world. She'd sneak into your place after practice, laugh about her members' quirks, cook ramen at 3AM, kiss you with ramen breath and her hair in a ponytail.

She used to text you first. She used to ask if you ate. She used to hold your hand under the table during press dinners.

But now?

Now she barely replies. Sometimes you find her liking thirst traps on Instagram at 2AM. Sometimes you catch glimpses of the same guy’s name over and over again on her notifications. And sometimes—on nights when her makeup is too perfect and her perfume is too strong—she comes home too late, too quiet, too satisfied.

You asked her once. Only once.

“Are you seeing someone else?”

She laughed. Not a cute laugh. A cruel one. The kind that told you she knew just how far she could go without losing you.

“Why?” she said. “Would it matter?”

You didn’t answer.

She leaned in, pressed a kiss to your lips, soft and slow. “Thought so.”

You wake up alone. Again.

She’s already gone, her side of the bed cold.

On the kitchen counter is a Post-it. You wonder if it’s an apology. A goodbye. Something meaningful.

But no. It just says:

“Don’t forget to do the laundry :) - W”

Smiley face and all.

You want to scream. Instead, you fold her clothes, cook her lunch for later, and wash the sheets that still smell like her and him.

Because you’re not just her boyfriend anymore. You’re her placeholder. Her doormat. Her background character.

But that’s okay.

If it means she comes home to you—even if it's just to sleep in your bed after fucking someone else—then it’s enough.

You lie to yourself every single day.

And maybe that’s the worst part.

Later that night, she walks in like nothing’s changed.

“Did you eat?” she asks, kicking her shoes off.

You nod.

“Good.” She flops down on your bed. “I’m exhausted.”

She doesn't ask if you slept. She never does.

You crawl into bed beside her, pretending you don’t notice the faint red mark on her collarbone. Pretending her lipstick isn’t a different shade than the one she left with this morning. Pretending the name “Minjun” didn’t just pop up on her phone before she flipped it face down.

She turns to you, half-lidded eyes, lazy smile. “Can we cuddle?”

You want to say no.

But instead you open your arms, and she slips into them like nothing ever broke between you.

Like she didn't shatter you into pieces and hand the biggest chunk to another man.

You hold her anyway.

Because it’s easier to hurt quietly than it is to say goodbye.

Weeks pass.

She grows colder. Bolder. Stops lying. Starts coming home less. You don’t even ask anymore. You just know.

But you never leave.

You tell yourself it’s love. That deep down, she loves you too. That someday she’ll change.

She won’t.

One night, after hours of silence, she turns to you in bed and says it flat-out.

“I cheated again.”

No tears. No excuses. No shame.

Just a statement. Like saying the weather’s nice or the sky is blue.

You blink.

She watches you, like she’s testing how far she can bend you before you snap.

But you just smile.

A small, broken, hollow thing.

“I know,” you say softly.

Her eyes narrow. “You knew?”

“I’ve always known.”

A pause.

And then, with a voice too calm for the way your heart is cracking open again:

“But I love you, Wonyoung.”

She doesn’t respond right away.

And then she laughs—quiet, almost incredulous—and kisses you on the forehead.

“You’re insane,” she whispers. “You’re so fucking stupid for loving me.”

You smile, eyes wet, chest hollow.

“Yeah,” you whisper back. “I know.”

But you hold her anyway.

And let her break you.

Again.

And again.

And again.

Because to love Wonyoung is to suffer—and you’ve decided it hurts less than letting her go.

WONYOUNG’s POV:

You don’t remember when it stopped being love.

Maybe it was after the first tour.

Maybe after the first guy.

Or maybe it was the first time you realized you could lie to him, and he wouldn’t leave.

That night still plays in your head sometimes.

The taste of another man’s mouth still on your lips, sweat still sticking to your thighs, and him—your boyfriend—opening the door at 2AM like you were just late coming home from the studio.

“Hey,” you said, tossing your heels to the side.

He didn’t ask where you’d been.

He just let you back in.

And that’s when it clicked.

He wasn’t going to leave you.

Ever.

At first, it was guilt.

You'd come home from someone else’s bed and scrub yourself raw in the shower, trying to rinse off the lies. You’d curl up next to him and stare at the ceiling, wondering how the hell you ended up in this mess. You never meant to hurt him.

But he made it so easy.

He’d cook for you, hold you, kiss you like you weren’t full of sin.

Like you were still the girl who used to fall asleep on his chest during movie nights, back when your biggest secret was dating in the first place.

But now?

Now it’s different.

Now you walk into his apartment smelling like another man and wait for him to notice. To yell. To fight.

But he never does.

He just looks at you with those tired, glassy eyes and says, “I love you.”

You wish he wouldn’t.

You thought about breaking up with him. Once. Maybe twice.

But every time you tried, something stopped you.

Was it guilt? Attachment? The convenience of having someone always waiting for you?

Or maybe…

Maybe it was the power.

The way he looks at you—like you’re God and he’s just some pitiful worshipper who can’t stop praying even after the miracles stop. There’s something addictive about it.

You could ruin him.

You are ruining him.

And he just takes it.

Smiling.

Bleeding inside.

Still cooking you breakfast the next morning.

You test the limits. You show up late with smeared lipstick. You “accidentally” leave your phone unlocked. You come home in different outfits than the ones you left in.

He sees everything.

And he says nothing.

Sometimes, you think he wants you to destroy him.

Sometimes, you think you want to see how far he'll fall before he breaks completely.

And sometimes, in the rarest, darkest parts of your heart—you think maybe he already has.

Tonight, it’s worse.

You fucked Minjun in the studio. Didn’t even bother changing your clothes. He didn’t last long, but that’s fine. It’s never about the sex anyway. It’s about proving you can.

You unlock the door to the apartment and see the lights off. Just the soft glow of the bedroom lamp slipping beneath the door.

He's already in bed.

You move quietly. Not because you’re afraid to wake him, but because part of you wonders if he’ll even care you’re home.

He doesn’t turn around when you slip under the covers. Doesn’t ask where you’ve been. Just lies there, facing the wall, silent.

You stare at his back for a long time, the heat of his body an arm’s length away. Close, but distant.

And suddenly—you don’t know why—you say it.

“I cheated again.”

Your voice cuts the air like a razor. Cold. Honest. Final.

You expect him to stiffen. To sit up. To scream.

But he doesn’t move.

“I know,” he says softly, still not facing you.

You blink.

You knew?

“I’ve always known.”

He rolls to face you then, eyes tired but not angry. Just... defeated.

And when he says, “I love you, Wonyoung,” you want to punch him for it. Or cry. Or disappear.

Instead, you laugh. It comes out bitter. Mean.

“You’re insane,” you whisper. “You’re so fucking stupid for loving me.”

He just smiles.

“Yeah,” he breathes. “I know.”

And then he opens his arms.

And you go to him.

Again.

Because for all the people you could sleep with, for all the lies you’ve told and the games you play, this boy—this broken boy—still chooses you.

And maybe that’s why you keep coming back.

Because if he can’t stop loving you…

Then you never have to admit you don’t love him back the same way.