#but i can also finally start typing the next chapter >:^)

[lordsardine]

*does a kickflip*

[pbaz7]

SOFT SPOT: CHAPTER 5

paige x azzi

word count: 9.3k

a/n: i’ve probably been slowly writing this chapter over the course of a few days because i randomly wrote here and there on vacation. may have also been a little drunk when writing some of it so bare with me ✨. i think people will like this chapter tho. as always leave any reactions/ thoughts or comments that you can!! thank you for reading.

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It had been about two weeks since the fight, and Paige was finally starting to feel like herself again…Ish. The swelling and cuts were mostly gone and the bruises on her side faded into yellowish marks. The relentless throbbing in her temples had eased a few days and now that she wasn’t grimacing every two seconds or wincing just from opening her eyes, the quiet anger she’d been too sore to entertain was beginning to bubble back up.

With the physical pain not being able to dull her thoughts or distract her anymore the humiliation she seemed to feel was sharper and it pissed her off.

She tried to watch the fight back a few times on different devices. Once with her phone propped up in her room, another in the living room with her remote in hand. Each time her heart started to beat faster every second she watched it and ultimately each attempt ended the same: disgust curling in her gut by the second round, mumbling “What the fuck was that?” to herself before turning it off. She hadn’t made it through the whole thing once yet.

Trying to subside her agitation she spent the last few days in the gym. Even though her body still wasn’t at a hundred percent she couldn’t sit still. Couldn’t let herself marinate in her version of a loss or the thoughts swirling around in her head about the fight. So she kept herself moving. She shadowboxed, hit some of the lighter bags. But seeing herself in the mirror was less forgiving than the fight footage.

She just felt stuck. Agitated. Claustrophobic in her own skin. So she did what any semi-sane person with too much money and not enough distractions would do; made plans to get the hell out of town.

Her fingers hovered over her phone screen for a moment before she typed a text:

Paige [10:47 AM]:

about that date

A few minutes passed before Azzi replied.

Azzi [10:54 AM]:

What about it?

Paige looked at the screen for a second with her thumbs hovering over the screen.

Paige [10:55 AM]:

i wanna take you on one

Azzi’s reply came back faster this time.

Azzi [10:56AM]:

Oh?

Tell me more

Paige smirked at her phone a little, pulling one knee up as she thought through how to present what she wanted to ask.

Paige [10:56 AM]:

you have a few days off before playoffs start right?

Azzi [10:57 AM]:

Yeah. Why?

Paige [10:57 AM]:

how you feel about leaving the state for a first date?

There was a longer pause than before. Then Azzi responded in the way Paige figured she would.

Azzi [10:59 AM]:

Excuse me?

You sure you aren’t still concussed?

Paige [11:00 AM]:

i’m sure

There was a short pause, then another message popped up.

Azzi [11:01 AM]:

Where are we going and for how long?

Paige [11:01 AM]:

pack a bag for two days

Azzi [11:01 AM]:

Okay…what am I packing?

Paige [11:03AM]:

something comfortable, swimsuits, clothes for an actual date

Azzi [11:03 AM]:

Ohh, so leaving the state isn’t the actual date?

Got it

Paige [11:04AM]:

no

i’m not a bum

Azzi [11:05AM]:

I don’t think a bum would take me to a different state under the guise of a first date so no worries

Paige [11:05AM]:

text me when you’re ready

The conversation ended after that.

…

The next thing Azzi knew she was back on a plane. It was the same private plane she’d taken to Paige’s fight a couple of weeks ago but this time, it was just the two of them on it.

The hum of the jet was steady and the cabin was dim. Paige was slouched comfortably in a Essentials sweatsuit with her hood up and her legs stretched out. Her hands were tucked in the pockets of the joggers.

“You got a deal with Essentials or you just hoard every color?”

Paige turned her head towards Azzi, chuckling a little. “Both.”

Azzi rolled her eyes, holding back a smile. “Gotta be cozy to keep secrets?”

Paige raised one of her eyebrows. “What secret?”

Azzi leaned forward putting her chin in her palm. “You know what secret. Where are we going, Narnia?”

Paige chuckled letting out a groan as she stretched, crossing her ankles when she was done. “Somewhere.”

“Oh wow,” Azzi said, completely deadpan. “Thanks, that really clears it up. You’re so generous.”

“I try.”

Azzi tilted her head. “Is it tropical?”

“Do we have tropical states?”

Azzi narrowed her eyes. “Paige.”

Paige grinned a little wider this time. “Bringin’ out the government name now?”

“I always do when I’m not getting what I want,” Azzi said. “And you’re keeping secrets.”

“I’m taking you on a date. Not smuggling you. Just relax.”

Azzi leaned back and Paige thought she finally gave up until she said, “So…is there a lot of sun?”

Paige didn’t answer.

“Water?”

Paige still didn’t answer so Azzi pouted. There was a short pause as Paige just looked at her. Then she sighed and said, “Maybe.”

“You suck.”

Paige shrugged. “You’ll like it.”

“I better. I packed a red bikini.”

Paige’s eyes flicked over to her hearing that. “You tryna threaten me or reward me? M’gettin mixed signals with that statement.”

Azzi grinned. “Depends on how fast you tell me where we’re going.”

Paige stared at her for a moment considering just telling her to end the interrogation but then she just let her head fall back against the seat. “You’re annoying.”

Azzi huffed and decided to leave it alone for now.

For the rest of the plane ride neither of them said much. There was just the sound of the engines. Eventually, Paige closed her eyes again and the tension from earlier slowly drained from her shoulders.

Azzi glanced over and watched her for some time before pulling out her phone and settling into her seat. While Paige slipped into sleep, Azzi worked on a few things she was planning to do before she was met with an impromptu trip. When she was done she sent a quick message to her group chat.

Azzi [4:13 PM]:

Don’t bother me unless someone dies

She glanced over again, catching Paige’s hoodie rising and falling and smiled to herself before turning her screen brightness down and putting her phone away deciding to get some sleep herself.

When the plane touched down, the sky was a muted gray that stretched over the open land. It wasn’t freezing, but it was colder than what Azzi expected after being told to bring a swimsuit. Cool enough to make her grateful when Paige pulled her hoodie over her head and handed it to her.

The drive from the airport had long stretches of trees and winding back roads that offered a silence and the kind of stillness you couldn’t find in the city. Eventually, the car rolled into a gravel driveway that opened to a wide clearing.

Azzi stepped out of the car first, her shoes crunching against the stones. “Okay…this is definitely not what I expected.”

Paige led her toward the entrance, carrying both of their bags like it was second nature. “That a good thing or a bad thing?”

“Definitely not bad.”

Just beyond the tree-lined driveway was a more modern cabin. It had floor-to-ceiling windows that looked out over a glassy lake. The water stretched endlessly and was framed by trees that swayed gently in with the breeze; some starting to lose their leaves. The cabin itself had high wood-beamed ceilings, an open layout on the first floor, soft light coming from the large windows. When they stepped through the front door, it smelled like cedar and fresh linen, like someone was doing laundry earlier in the day and it was warm from pre-set heat.

Azzi’s eyes wandered past the living room, through the back windows. She saw a hot tub on the deck overlooking the lake and just below that, an infinity pool with a perfect view of the water beyond the cabin.

She blinked at Paige in confusion despite how impressed she was. “Where are we?”

“Minnesota,” Paige answered plainly, dropping the bags by the stairs.

Azzi gave her a look. “Yes, thank you captain obvious. I meant here.”

“Family cabin,” she said, laughing a little. “It was one of the first things I bought cause it helps me stay connected to home.”

Azzi looked around again, this time a little slower with the new information. Everything about the layout felt purposeful. It was warm, quiet, had touches of Paige’s personal life tucked into each corner. “So this is like a special place?”

Paige gave a small shrug, like it wasn’t a big deal. “Guess so.”

Azzi folded her arms, her eyes sweeping across the cabin one more time before looking back at Paige. “Kinda crazy for a first date.”

“Don’t get a big head,” Paige mumbled. “Just didn’t want you thinking I was a sore loser who couldn’t follow through on a bet before I left LA.”

Azzi scoffed, walking slowly toward the windows. “Righttt. So you text me on a Thursday morning, tell me to pack a bag, fly me halfway across the country…to your family’s cabin...just to settle a bet?”

Paige looked at her for a moment, Her expression giving nothing away. Then, without answering, she chuckled a little and moved toward the kitchen. “You want something to drink?” she said over her shoulder.

Azzi shook her head, smiling despite her best effort. “Unbelievable.”

Paige’s voice floated back. “I got wine. All the wine you could think of probably. Tequila, beer, some tea I think.”

Azzi trailed into the kitchen. “Wine is fine.”

Paige glanced over her shoulder. “You got a preference?”

Azzi leaned her hip against the counter. “Surprise me like you’ve been doing all day.”

Paige shook her head, the corner of her mouth twitching up as she reached for a bottle of Chardonnay. “You’re annoying.”

“You’ll grow to love it.”

Paige didn’t respond, just pulled two glasses down from the cabinet. The soft clink of glass echoed slightly in the kitchen as she sat them on the counter. She uncorked the bottle and poured a generous amount into both glasses.

Azzi watched her do all of this, still half in disbelief that this was real. Paige handing her a glass of wine. In Minnesota. At her family’s cabin that she willingly .

“So…” Azzi said, raising her glass a little. “To first dates that start with mystery texts and end in the woods…?”

Paige tapped her glass lightly against Azzi’s. “Don’t make it weird.”

Azzi grinned saying, “Too late,” before taking a sip of the Chardonnay.

After a sip of her drink, Paige nodded toward the rest of the house. “Come on, I’ll show you around before it gets too dark.”

Azzi followed her through the cabin, their footsteps being heard against the wooden floors. The place was new but somehow gave off a rustic vibe with its vaulted ceilings and thick wooden beams. Paige moved through the house without thinking much, clearly familiar with the space.

They passed the open kitchen and a den before Paige led Azzi up the stairs and down a hallway. “Couple bedrooms down here. This one’s mine,” she said, tapping on the door. “You can pick whichever room…or you know, whatever.”

Azzi raised her eyebrow, pausing with her wine glass mid-sip. “Whatever?”

Paige cleared her throat. “Just pick a room.”

Azzi smirked. “Mmm, okay.”

Paige didn’t take the bait, just turned and kept walking, opening another door and motioning lazily. “Bathroom’s here. There’s another one in one of the guest rooms and there’s one downstairs too. Shower sucks in that one for some reason though.”

They kept walking through the cabin, the comfort between them a little easier than any other time they’ve been together. Azzi brushed her hand along a wooden railing, admiring the space as they walked. “You’re definitely looking less wincey than last week when I saw you.”

Paige chuckled at the word. “I’m still sore in the mornings,” she admitted. “But my head doesn’t feel like shit anymore, so...progress.”

Azzi nodded. “That’s good.”

Paige glanced back at her. “You good?”

Azzi shrugged one shoulder. “Just trying to stay in game shape. First round’s in a few days. Should be easy though.”

Paige gave her a look. “Don’t jinx yourself.”

Azzi held up her free hand. “Alright, knock on wood.”

They stepped onto the back deck, the cool air wrapping around them. The lake was beautiful up close. String lights were wrapped around the wooden beams and they twinkled overhead, casting a hue across the deck.

Paige gestured with her glass. “Not bad, right?”

Azzi gave a small smile. “Not bad at all.”

Paige leaned on the railing next to her, the moment stretching just enough as Azzi looked out towards the lake before Paige said, “Come on. One more thing.”

She led Azzi down a set of steps and around the side of the cabin to a small building tucked against the tree line. She pushed open the door and flipped on the lights to reveal another fully-equipped home gym. Punching bags, racks, mirrors, everything Paige needed to get through a workout. It was simpler than her one back in LA, but it was clearly still made custom to what Paige needed.

Azzi smiled a little. “Okay, so this is probably where you’d disappear to if you decided to ghost for a few days.”

Paige grinned. “I had it added last year. I needed somewhere quiet to train without being bothered all the time.”

Azzi walked in fully, her eyes scanning the space. “It’s very you.”

Paige smirked. “Is that a compliment?”

Azzi looked over her shoulder. “Depends. You gonna train on our date?”

Paige tilted her head. “Mmm. Depends on if you’ll join me.”

Azzi laughed, walking back toward her. “I’ll think about it.”

By the time they made it back into the main cabin, the sun had dipped lower and it cast shadows through the trees and turned the lake a deep slate-blue color. Paige kicked off her shoes by the door and moved around the kitchen casually, topping off both their wine glasses before sliding one toward Azzi.

Azzi took hers with a quiet “thanks,” sipping as she leaned against the counter. Azzi didn’t even last five minutes before her eyes drifted toward the stairs that led back out to the gym. “I actually kinda wanna workout now.”

Paige raised an eyebrow as she sipped her wine. “Of course you do.”

Azzi smiled. “Only today though, tomorrow I won’t touch the gym if you don’t want me to.”

Paige gave a small grin, setting her glass down. “Alright. I’ll change.”

It didn’t take long for both of them to change and meet in the gym. Azzi had pulled her hair into a bun, already thinking about what she was going to do as she scrolled through her playlists and laid out some resistance bands. Paige was moving more slowly, stretching out her shoulder before wrapping her hands and putting on gloves before moving toward the heavy bag.

The space filled with the music from Azzi’s phone that she connected to the gym speaker. Azzi moved through a circuit. Some jump rope to start and warm herself up. She barely seemed to notice the time as she zoned into her workout.

Meanwhile, Paige worked the bag with a slower rhythm, testing her body, finding where the soreness still lingered and where it didn’t.

“Your form’s terrible today,” Azzi teased mid-lunge.

Paige laughed a little. “Thanks, coach.”

They shared a small grin before both of them returned to their workouts.

The whole workout passed like that. There was light conversation here and there, a comment tossed between sets, a playful insult when one of them slowed down. But mostly, they worked in tandem, both of them comfortable in the silence as they worked on their craft. It was the kind of peace only two athletes could understand as they both let the world fall away in a home gym in Minnesota.

Azzi slowed down eventually, her last round of the circuit tapering into stretches as her focus drifted across the gym. Paige was still at the bag, each of her hits landing cleaner than they were when she first started.

Azzi leaned back on her palms, letting her breathing settle as she watched.

There was something almost hypnotic about watching her. Paige’s shoulder blades were flexing underneath her sports bra and the controlled rotation of her core was visible as she pivoted through each punch. Her arms were glistening and every once in a while she exhaled just loud enough for Azzi to bring her attention back to her. Sweat slid down her neck and traced the lines of her back beneath the fabric of her bra.

Azzi found herself staring for who knows how long. Eventually she stepped back from the bag for a moment to shake out her arms, and her eyes drifted over and she caught Azzi watching and raised an eyebrow. “You wanna try?”

Azzi blinked out of her daze, a little caught off guard. “Me?”

Paige nodded, already walking toward the shelf where she kept extra gloves and wraps. “Unless you’re just gonna sit there drooling.”

Azzi scoffed. “I was not staring.”

Paige didn’t even turn around. “Right.”

Azzi stood up slowly, wiping her hands on her thighs. “I’ve never even thrown a punch.”

Paige glanced over her shoulder. “You probably couldn’t have a better teacher then princess.”

Azzi hesitated, rolling her lips together. “Promise you won’t laugh?”

Paige turned around holding wrap and gloves. “Scout’s honor.”

Azzi eyed her, skeptically. “I’m almost 100% sure you were never a scout.”

Paige shrugged. “Still counts.”

That earned a reluctant smile from Azzi as she walked over. “Alright. Let’s see what the hype’s about.”

Paige gestured for her to sit on the bench while she knelt in front of her. “Left hand first.”

Azzi held it out and watched silently as Paige began wrapping her hand. Her fingers were warm as she worked the wrap around Azzi’s hand and despite the teasing, Paige’s touch was careful, almost gentle, as she checked for tightness and comfort as she went.

“You nervous?” Paige said without looking up.

Azzi tilted her head. “Little bit.”

Paige glanced up with a faint grin. “Don’t be. I’ll go easy on you.”

Azzi just smiled at that as Paige continued to wrap Azzi’s hands. When she was done she slid the gloves on for her, tightening the straps just enough to be snug but comfortable. Once she was done, she sat back lifting her eyes.

“Good?”

Azzi nodded, holding her hands up awkwardly.

Paige smiled at her, rising to her feet. “Alright. Over here.”

She nodded toward one of the lighter bags, and Azzi followed her even though her movements were a bit hesitant. Paige motioned for her to square up when she got in front of the bag.

“Ight put your feet about shoulder-width apart,” she said, circling behind her. “Back foot slightly turned out. Yeah—like that.”

Azzi adjusted, and Paige stepped closer.

“Bring your hands up,” Paige said, tapping gently beneath Azzi’s elbows. “Higher. To protect your face.”

Azzi tried and her form was stiff. Paige chuckled under her breath before reaching out to nudge her arms into place.

“Here relax your shoulders,” she said, fingertips brushing over Azzi’s shoulder blades as she softened the tension there. “You’re not about to fight a bear. It’s just a bag, it won’t hit you back.”

Azzi huffed out a quiet laugh. “Feels like I’m bracing for war.”

Paige moved around to Azzi’s side, resting her palm lightly on her lower back. “You’re a hooper. You know how to move your body. Think of this as new muscle memory.”

Azzi gave her a sideways look. “Didn’t know you were gonna whisper sweet encouragements in my ear.”

Paige ignored Azzi trying to flirt but her mouth twitched. “You want to learn or not?”

Azzi smirked. “I’m listening, coach.”

Paige rolled her eyes but stayed close. “Throw a light jab with your dominant hand. Just test it out.”

Azzi did, and the glove landed against the bag with a gentle thud. Paige nodded. “Not bad. Do it again.”

Azzi reset her stance and this time it looked like she had a little more confidence as she threw another jab. The sound of her glove against the bag was harder, but Paige tilted her head slightly, trying to figure out the best advice to give her.

“You’re not bad,” Paige said, stepping in. “You’re throwing with just your arm though. You gotta turn into it. Use your hips, your shoulders. The power’s not going to be in the punch itself, it’s in the movement.”

Azzi gave her a confused look over her shoulder. “What does that even mean Paige?”

Paige sighed, a small smirk tugging at her lips. “C’mere.”

Before Azzi could respond, Paige was behind her with one of her hands resting gently on Azzi’s hip, the other on her upper arm.

“Alright,” Paige mumbled, her voice suddenly much closer to Azzi’s ear. “When you go to jab, turn this,” she said, nudging Azzi’s hip lightly, “just a little, like this.” She moved with her, guiding her body through the motion. Her chest brushed against Azzi’s back, and the space between them all but disappeared as Paige tried to show her what to do. Azzi blinked, suddenly hyper-aware of the rhythm of Paige’s breath behind her, the weight of her hands, how still everything else felt.

Paige didn’t seem fazed in the slightest, her voice stayed even the entire time. “See? It’s not a huge movement. You just need enough rotation to transfer your weight. That’s where the power comes from.”

Azzi nodded, but it was distracted. “Uh-huh. Got it,” she mumbled, even though it clearly sounded a little dazed.

Paige paused just long enough to notice, her eyes moving towards Azzi’s face. “You good, or did I break you or something?”

Azzi let out a breathy laugh. “I’m good. It’s just the unsolicited back hugs. Kinda distracting.”

Paige grinned, stepping back slightly to give her space. “Focus.”

Azzi turned her head, her brown eyes meeting Paige’s over her shoulder. “I’m trying.”

There was a lingering look between them. Then Paige nodded toward the bag again.

“Show me.”

Azzi threw a few more punches with her eyebrows slightly furrowed in concentration. The impact on the bag wasn’t perfect, but it was getting cleaner. Paige stood a few feet away with her arms crossed, watching her the entire time.

“Better,” she said, nodding. “But drop your shoulder a little—yeah, right there. Keep your chin tucked too. You’re not tryin’ to get hit if this was a real person remember?”

Azzi exhaled, adjusting, then threw a few more punches. She pulled back, glancing at Paige, searching for her expression.

Paige raised an eyebrow, the corner of her mouth twitching. “I don’t know. I might need to get you in the cage soon.”

Azzi laughed, bouncing lightly on the balls of her feet. “Relax. I just figured out how to throw a punch.”

Paige walked closer to her. “Mmhm. I can’t tell, definitely got me feeling some typa way.”

Azzi blinked. “Excuse me?”

Before she could say more, Paige was behind her again, her hand gently skimming down Azzi’s arm under the guise of adjusting the position of her glove.

“I’m just saying,” Paige said, her mouth unironically warm by Azzi’s ear. “Feels like you doing some of this on purpose. Like you know somebody watching or somethin.”

Azzi’s breath caught in her throat a little bit, from the words, how Paige’s fingers lingered and from the slight press of her body into Azzi's again.

Azzi turned her head toward Paige, her smirk returning once she gathered herself. “And are you?”

Paige’s lips quirked as she squinted her eyes at Azzi a little. “Always.” Then she stepped away again, nodding toward the bag like she hadn’t just said what she said. “Alright, again.”

Azzi shook her head, smiling as she squared up again. “You’re ridiculous.”

Paige just shrugged. “Little bit.”

Azzi threw a few more punches and the sound of the gloves hitting the bag echoed through the gym, more rhythmic and steady this time around. Paige leaned against the wall that was nearby watching her closely.

“You’re still kinda stiff. Relax your shoulders.” She stepped forward, her hand grazing Azzi’s bicep before sliding down to adjust her elbow. “And bend just a little more in your knees.”

Azzi glanced back over her shoulder. “You sure this isn’t just an excuse to touch me?”

Paige didn’t even blink. “Would that be a bad thing?”

Azzi faltered again for half a second before she looked away, resetting her stance with a soft laugh. Paige smiled to herself, stepping back behind her.

“Okay, try it again.”

Azzi did and this time she got more hits in before Paige spoke up.

“You wanna remember to keep this hand a little higher, protect your face, remember?” Paige said.

“Feels like I should be paying you for this lesson.”

Paige chuckled. “Nah, first one’s free.”

Azzi shifted into the motion, punching the bag again, this time with a little more power. The sound made Paige nod in approval.

“There she is,” Paige murmured.

Azzi turned her head, catching Paige’s eye over her shoulder. “Guess it just depends on the coach.”

Paige smiled. “Good answer.”

They held eye contact before Paige stepped back, giving Azzi her space again. “Alright, again. Let’s see if the muscle memory sticks.”

They stayed in the gym for maybe thirty more minutes, the time passing without either of them really noticing. Paige kept her word. No laughing the entire time, not even when Azzi’s punch slipped a little and sent her stumbling forward into the bag. She caught herself, mumbling something under her breath, but Paige just walked over, nodding like it was no big deal.

“Keep your weight a little more balanced,” she said, crouching slightly to tap at Azzi’s back foot with her own. “You’re leaning too far forward.”

Azzi reset, adjusted, and went again, and with the slight adjustment her movements were cleaner. Paige watched her with a glint of quiet pride in her eyes, offering occasional comments. “Better…Don’t forget your guard…There you go. That one felt good, huh?”

Of course, it wasn’t all business. Azzi couldn’t help but toss a few comments in, especially when Paige came behind her again to adjust something miniscule. “You sure this is standard coaching?” Paige just hid her smile and said, “Nah this for special clients.”

Azzi rolled her eyes at Paige’s tone, but kept swinging.

By the time they wrapped up, both of them were a little flushed, sweaty, and grinning slightly for completely different reasons. Paige pulled off Azzi’s gloves for her and unwrapped her hands while Azzi stretched out her arms, exhaling hard.

“Okay, I get why you’re so into this now,” Azzi said, redoing her bun that had fallen a little too much. “Kinda makes you feel like a badass.”

Paige gave her a quiet laugh. “Told you.”

“You were right.”

“I usually am.”

Azzi nudged her. “Don’t push it.”

Paige smirked but didn’t say anything back. They lingered in silence while Paige finished unwrapping Azzi’s hands.

When she was done Azzi asked, “Hot tub now?”

Paige wiped the sweat off of her face with a towel. “Thought you’d never ask. Lemme hop in the shower first tho.”

Azzi took her time in the shower, letting the hot water soothe her muscles after the impromptu workout. By the time she made her way back into the living room, her hair was damp on the ends and pulled into another loose bun. She walked barefoot toward the kitchen, where she saw Paige at the counter with her head bowed slightly.

Azzi tilted her head. “I didn’t know you smoked.”

Paige glanced up, the flicker of a grin tugging at the corner of her mouth. “Occasionally.”

Azzi hummed, leaning on the counter with her elbows, watching her break the buds into the paper. “What’s occasionally? Like, once a week? After every workout? Only when you drag someone across the country?”

Paige chuckled under her breath, her eyes going back to her hands. “More like...when I feel like I earned it. So…rare.”

Azzi smirked, but her eyes were trained on Paige’s lips and the way they parted slightly as she rolled. Her tongue flicked to wet the paper and Azzi caught herself staring. Everything Paige was doing was slow and perfectly in place. Too slow, maybe, because Azzi’s brain had gone a little quiet as she watched.

“You smoke?” Paige asked without looking up.

Azzi didn’t answer right away. She was still watching, a little dazed as Paige’s mouth twisted and sealed the end.

“Azzi.”

The way Paige said her name snapped her out of it.

“Huh? Oh.” Azzi blinked quickly, standing up straighter. “What?”

Paige exhaled slowly, moving her eyes up to meet Azzi’s. “I said, do you smoke?”

Azzi cleared her throat, trying to act casual. “Not often, no. But...I mean, I could be convinced.”

Paige let out a laugh, moving her eyes back to the j. “We’ll see,” she said before flicking the lighter against the paper to finish sealing it. She held it up like a promise, then stood and nodded toward the patio doors. “Come on.”

Azzi grabbed the nearly-finished bottle of wine from the fridge and two more glasses from the cabinet, before she followed Paige outside. The sliding glass door opened with a soft creak, letting in the cool bite of a September night in Minnesota. It wasn’t frigid yet but the air was crisp enough to make the steam rising from the bubbling jacuzzi seem like a heavenly invitation.

Paige stepped in first, letting out a long exhale as the heat traced up her skin. She sank back against the edge, spread her arms to the side, and tilted her head just slightly to take it all in. Her hoodie and sweats were gone now, replaced by a black bikini top that contrasted against the paleness of her skin. Strands of her blonde hair curling slightly at the ends as they touched the water.

Azzi set the wine and glasses down with a clink on the edge of the jacuzzi, her fingers brushing her thigh as she stepped up onto the jacuzzi’s edge. She caught the way Paige’s blue eyes followed her unashamed. She didn’t look away once, even as Azzi sank into the water across from her, letting the heat settle over her skin.

For a moment, Paige watched her. Not saying much of anything. Once again like she was trying to figure Azzi out, or like she had already figured Azzi out and was trying to figure out what to do with the information.

Azzi raised her eyebrow after a while of Paige just staring and not saying anything, a soft smile on her lips as she said, “Good?”

Paige gave her a subtle nod, her jaw ticking slightly as the steam curled around her face. The warmth from the porch lights reflected in her blue eyes making them look even softer than usual, but her expression stayed unreadable.

Azzi tilted her head, still smiling out of shyness a little, “What’re you looking at?”

“You.”

Azzi let out a soft, “hm” at that, before she turned to pour the wine to distract herself from the light butterflies in her stomach. Her smile lingered as she reached for the bottle, but her eyes drifted back once, just quick enough to catch Paige lighting the blunt, her lips pulling from it effortlessly like she’d done it hundreds of times before. The faint glow from the cherry lit up the sharp lines of her face. She leaned back slightly, tipping her head to the stars as the smoke curled up from her lips.

It was honestly unfair how good she looked all the time. It was in the kind of way Azzi had no defense against. Like the brown haired girl wasn’t used to being this attracted to a person, let alone for such an extended period of time.

Paige took another pull then glanced back over, catching Azzi watching her again. “You just gonna stare or…?”

Azzi rolled her eyes, handing her a glass of wine before accepting the blunt Paige was oddering. She took it, her fingers brushing Paige’s just slightly in the process. “Getting me crossed on the first date?” she teased as she brought it to her lips.

Paige chuckled, her eyes already becoming a little low. “This isn’t the date.”

Azzi raised her eyebrow, inhaling again before passing it back. “No?”

“Nah,” Paige said. “Promise I’mma take you on one tomorrow, though. Don’t trip.”

Azzi leaned back with her wine glass in hand. “Who said I’m tripping?”

Paige laughed again, taking a second pull before passing it back. “Just a phrase, princess.”

The whir of the jacuzzi filled the silence of the night air, bubbles breaking the surface in gentle bursts. A cool breeze swept in from the lake, but the warm water countered the chill, steam rising in tendrils into the air. The light blue glow of the jacuzzi lights gave everything a softer hue.

Paige leaned back, stretching her arms along the ledge behind her. Blue eyes were half-lidded as she watched the way Azzi brought the blunt to her lips.

“You roll good,” Azzi murmured as she exhaled before she passed it back.

Paige grinned. “What, you thought I was gonna be bad at this too?”

Azzi smiled, swirling her condensation wine glass. “Nah. I’m just surprised you’re not more of a control freak about how I’m pulling it.”

“I’m healing,” Paige said dryly, taking a hit. The smoke curled up around her face, catching in the blue light, softening her features.

Azzi watched her a second before reaching for the joint again to distract herself. “You ever bring anyone else here?”

Paige shook her head, eyes still on her. “Outside of my family? Nope. Just you.”

Azzi raised her eyebrow, lifting the glass to her lips to hide the involuntary smile that was growing. “Hm. Should I feel special or concerned at how easy it was to get you to invite me here?”

“Both,” Paige said with a crooked smile as she took a long pull. “Balance, right?”

They settled into a comfortable rhythm. Smoke, sip, tease, repeat. Their conversations drifted from music to movies to random memories, the kind of stuff that didn’t need full context to laugh at. The night stretched on intimately as the warm water wrapped around them in contrast to the sky above that was wide open.

When the blunt burned down to the end, the last of its embers dimmed as Azzi flicked it into the nearby ashtray Paige had set on the edge. She let her head fall back as her eyes scanned the dark silhouettes of trees surrounding the cabin, the sky above streaked with stars she could never see in the city. The moment was peaceful in a way she wasn’t used to. There was nothing urgent tonight, nothing loud. Just a simple calmness in a Minnesota cabin with a blonde girl who somehow made her mind calm and chaotic at the same time.

Across from her, Paige looked like she belonged in this kind of silence. Her head was tilted back too, her eyes closed, arms stretched casually over the ledge behind her, her expression looked relaxed and her skin glistened with the mix of steam, wine and whatever haze lingered between them.

Azzi's gaze lingered on her. She took in the slope of her jaw, the flutter of her long lashes, the relaxed set of her usually clenched mouth. She wasn’t sure how long she stared before she finally said, quietly, “Paige.”

Without opening her eyes, Paige replied, “Hm?”

Azzi hesitated, exhaling softly through her nose. She didn’t want a half-aware hum. She wanted her attention more than usual. So she pushed herself up and moved slowly through the water until she was in front of her.

The movement caused ripples that lapped at Paige’s skin. Azzi stood in front of her, directly in front of one of the lights that cast a glow across her curves. “Look at me,” she said.

Paige’s eyes slowly opened. They were rimmed in red from the wine and the weed, as she processed how close Azzi was. Her gaze swept over Azzi’s long curls, some of them damp as they framing her face. She looked at the water glistening on her collarbone, the way the wet red bikini clung to her skin, the quiet confidence in the way she stood directly in front of her. This was probably the longest Paige had ever looked at Azzi and she shamelessly let her eyes travel across every portion of the girl in front of her.

Azzi tilted her head, catching the weight of the look in Paige’s eye. “Why you looking at me like that?”

Paige’s lips twitched. “You told me to.”

That made Azzi smile as she moved forward again, now standing between Paige’s legs that naturally opened to make room for her.

“You always do what you’re told?” Azzi asked, lowering her voice on purpose as her eyes met Paige’s.

Paige looked her up and down again, not bothering to hide the way her gaze lingered on her chest, on the silver piece of jewelry resting near her belly button. Her voice was quiet when she answered. “Depends who’s telling me.”

Azzi quirked her head to the side at this. “If it’s me?”

Paige didn’t look away from her. “Then maybe.”

Azzi let a beat pass between them before taking a small step closer, her thighs brushing Paige’s. “Only maybe?”

Paige’s eyes dropped to her mouth for a second, then back up. Her voice dropped too, a little raspier now as she said, “You gotta earn the ‘always’ from me.”

Azzi huffed out a soft laugh, tilting her head as if she was considering that information. “That right?”

Paige nodded once. “Mhm.”

There was silence between them again. This version was thick, more intimate than their stretches of silence usually are. The water bubbled against them, steam curling upward making the moment seem...warmer. They were close enough to feel each other’s breath, their intoxication slowing everything down, making it heavier.

Azzi's hands moved beneath the water, her warm fingers gliding over Paige’s forearms before gently guiding her hands to her waist. Paige’s grip settled there naturally, her thumbs brushed over Azzi’s skin as she invited her closer with a soft pull.

Azzi let her legs drift, slotting herself against Paige until she was nearly straddling her in the water, knees brushing each side of Paige’s body. Her arms came up, looping around Paige’s neck, her wet fingertips tracing the damp edges of her hair. Neither of them still not offering any words.

The only sounds were the bubbling of the jacuzzi and the occasional noise of a grasshopper in the woods around the house.

Azzi leaned in slightly, keeping her eyes on Paige’s. All of her movements were slow, partly from the intoxication, partly from giving Paige time. Permission. An out if she didn’t want her in this way.

But Paige didn’t move away, contrarily Azzi noticed the way her gaze dropped to her lips, lingering there as she moved closer.

So Azzi closed the distance, her lips brushing Paige’s in a kiss that was slow, but not in a way that was hesitant. They just weren’t rushing, just the slowness of two people feeling out something new and inevitable. Paige’s hands held her waist while Azzi kissed her like she’d been waiting to, like she was learning the shape of her mouth, the rhythm of her breath.

The kiss deepened slightly, but stayed gentle, their lips moving in sync, intoxication softening the edges of everything around them, making them more attuned to the moment, to what they were feeling. Allowing the kiss to melt into something fuller, their mouths parting just enough for breaths to hitch and warmth to spill between them. Paige’s grip on Azzi’s waist tightened slightly, when Azzi tugged on her lip softly, but it wasn’t possessive. It was careful in a way that caught Azzi off guard.

For someone who fought for a living, Paige’s touch was unexpectedly soft. Her hands held Azzi like she might break her, her thumbs tracing gentle circles along her hips beneath the water. Azzi had expected heat and intensity the first time she got Paige like this. And it was there but it was wrapped in a kind of reverence that made her stomach flutter. The feeling had her in heaven but sick to her stomach at the same time from the feelings drifting from deep in her chest to her brain.

Azzi felt like Paige was kissing her like she was learning her mouth by heart. Each tilt of her head, each brush of her tongue was gradual but still somehow reflected the want she felt. Azzi responded in kind, one hand moving to tangle in the damp strands of Paige’s hair, the other still looped loosely behind her neck as she pressed a little closer, the water gently rocking around them at the movement.

They stayed like that for a while, tangled in each other, kissing like they had all the time in the world.

Azzi’s lips parted from Paige’s just barely, her breath ghosting over pale wet skin as she trailed soft kisses down the line of Paige’s jaw and to the curve of her neck. Paige’s eyes fluttered closed again, tipping her head back as her arms stretched out along the edge of the jacuzzi, giving Azzi full access to her exposed skin—silent permission to keep going.

Azzi smiled against Paige’s skin, her lips brushing the slope of her neck as she whispered, “You enjoying yourself?”

Paige let out a low hum. “Mmhmm.”

Azzi kept her lips moving slowly, before she pulled back just enough to look at her. “Good. But just so you know,” she added playfully, eyes flicking to Paige’s that had opened, “I don’t sleep with people on the first date. So don’t get any ideas.”

Paige couldn't help the smirk that formed, her eyes barely open as she looked up at Azzi. “That’s funny. I thought you wanted to sleep with me the first day we met.”

Azzi laughed against Paige’s skin, her lips brushing along her collarbone as she started to kiss her neck again. “That so?”

“Yup.”

Azzi pulled back again, just enough to glance at her with raised eyebrows, hands still loosely wrapped around Paige’s neck. “What gave you that impression?”

“Maybe all the eye-fucking you were doing from the bench before I was even introduced to you.”

Azzi scoffed, a disbelieving laugh coming out of her as she pressed her forehead to Paige’s shoulder thinking about it. “No I wasn’t.”

Paige tilted her head, smiling wider now. “Sure.”

Azzi smiled against her skin again, biting back her next laugh—because she kind of was now that she thought about it further.

Azzi lingered there for a beat, forehead resting against Paige’s shoulder, her breath warming her skin as she forced the warmth from the tips of her ears. Her fingers lightly traced over Paige’s collarbone, nails dragging just faintly against the skin. “You’re really full of yourself, huh?”

Paige’s hands slipped lower on Azzi’s waist beneath the water. “Just calling it how I saw it.”

Azzi tilted her head inwards, her mouth barely an inch from Paige’s jaw deciding to flip the script. “What are you seeing right now?” she whispered as her lips ghosted her skin but not quite kissing it.

Paige’s breath caught subtly, Azzi wouldn’t have noticed if Paige’s hands didn’t tighten slightly on her waist. “Feelin a lot more than I’m seeing.”

Azzi grinned, then kissed her again, deeper this time, a touch needier. There was still that slow intoxicated rhythm to it, but now it simmered with more tension. Azzi shifted in the water, straddling Paige properly, her body pressing in just enough to make them both feel it.

Paige’s hands slid up from her waist to the curve of her lower back, holding her in place. Her lips were soft. Patient in a way but leading them at the same time, coaxing Azzi to give more, as Azzi’s fingers threaded through the back of her damp hair, her hips instinctively rolling just once before she caught herself and pulled back slightly with a breathless laugh.

“Easy,” she whispered, resting her forehead against Paige’s again.

“I’m not doing anything,” Paige said, as she smiled a little, showing the amusement mixed in with her desire.

“Your hands are saying otherwise.”

Paige smirked, her fingers gliding back down to Azzi’s hips under the water. “Don’t matter. You didn’t sleep with people on the first date, remember.”

Azzi smiled at this. “This isn’t the date, remember? Makes things a little hazy”

Paige leaned in, brushing her lips along Azzi’s jaw, clearly distracted as she mumbleed. “Then what rules do I gotta follow?”

Azzi exhaled softly, her eyes fluttering shut as Paige’s lips hovered over the sensitive spot beneath her ear. “Shhh,” she whispered, one hand sliding into Paige’s hair as she guided her mouth lower, pressing Paige’s lips to the sensitive part of her neck.

Paige obliged, her lips finding Azzi’s pulse point as Azzi tilted her head to the side, giving her more to work with. She melted into it, her breath catching every so often as Paige’s mouth moved slowly, tracing Azzi’s pulse points with her tongue and teeth. When Paige bit down gently Azzi rocked further into her, a soft sound catching in her throat.

Each time Azzi rolled her hips closer, grinding against Paige she felt the perfect amount of pressure that was only heightened when Paige helped her press down further causing the water to lap around them.

They repeated this for nearly ten minutes. Azzi’s body straddled Paige’s, her fingers drawing patterns over her shoulders as she pushed herself into the blonde. Paige’s hands stayed low on Azzi’s back, then drifted lower when she sensed Azzi getting a little needier, her fingers playing idly with the string of her red bikini bottoms beneath the water. The way she toyed with the string was intentional. She was teasing Azzi but staying patient, waiting for the girl on her lap to make whatever decision she wanted.

Azzi felt the tension coiling in her stomach, breaking the kiss and hovering her lips near Paige’s ear. She was about to tell her breathily to take it off but then Paige’s phone buzzed against the ledge behind them.

Azzi stilled but Paige didn’t even lift her head from Azzi’s neck. “Ignore it.”

Azzi easily gave in, leaning back in to kiss her again, her mouth finding Paige’s. Paige slipped one hand up to cradle the back of Azzi’s neck and pulled her closer.

But then the phone rang again and for some reason in this moment it seemed louder…more insistent than usual.

Azzi laughed against Paige’s lips, pulling back to look at her as Paige chased her a little. “You sure I’m the one who was thirsty?” she teased.

Paige tilted her head back, closed her eyes and let out a frustrated sigh. “Unreal.”

Azzi smiled softly as she slid her hands down Paige’s chest and gave one last lingering kiss to the corner of her mouth before whispering, “Good night, Paige.”

Paige opened her eyes just as Azzi stepped out of the jacuzzi, steam curling around her silhouette in the cool air. Paige watched her go with her lips parted.

And the fucking phone was still ringing.

Paige let out a long sigh as she reluctantly snatched it off the ledge and swiped to answer when she saw the name Cam glowing across the screen. “What.”

“Hi to you too, grumpy.”

Paige leaned her head back again, the steam from the jacuzzi curling around her face as she exhaled, clearly annoyed. “What, Cam?”

“I was just checking on you. I hadn’t heard from you in a few days.”

Paige’s tone was dry. “I’m alive.”

There was a pause on the other end of the phone, then Cam asked, “What are you doing?”

Paige groaned at the pointless conversation, “You cockblocked me.”

There was a beat of silence before Cam burst into laughter. “What?!”

Paige pinched the bridge of her nose, her patience wearing thin. “Do you need something Cameron?”

Cam hummed dramatically. “I don’t know…maybe just to hear my annoying sister’s voice.”

That pulled a soft chuckle out of Paige as she ran a hand through her damp hair and shifted her weight in the water. “Hi, Cam.”

She could hear the grin on Cam’s face through the phone as she said, “There we go.”

There was a brief pause before Cam’s tone turned curious. “So...who ya with?”

Paige snorted. “Mind your business.”

Cam gasped. “I’m almost 100% sure it’s Azzi so you might as well tell me.”

“What makes you say that?”

“She texted the group chat and told us all to leave her alone unless somebody died. That was like...six hours ago.”

Paige couldn’t help the laugh that escaped her lips as she leaned her head back against the ledge again. “Hm.”

The two of them talked a bit more, Cam giving her updates on Ben and her mom’s latest antics, Paige tossed in a few dry comments here and there to entertain Cam.

Mid-conversation, Paige’s eyes drifted up toward the second floor of the cabin and she saw Azzi moving past the window before pausing when she saw Paige looking. Her hair was pulled over one shoulder as she looked down at Paige.

Paige smirked as she tilted her head, silently inviting Azzi back downstairs with a playful look in her eyes.

Azzi arched an eyebrow.

Paige gave her best version of a pout, mouthing please.

Azzi rolled her eyes, her lips twitching at the corners before she exaggeratedly mouthed, no and walked away.

Paige sighed, but the smirk never left her face as Cam kept talking in her ear.

…

Much later that night, Azzi was in bed, restlessly kicking at the sheets. The air in the room she picked felt too warm and no matter how many times she flipped her pillow or changed positions, she couldn’t get comfortable. Her body felt tense…unsettled in a way she couldn’t just ignore to fall asleep. She was uncomfortable and needy.

With a frustrated sigh, she pushed the covers off and sat up. The silence of the large cabin settled around her and it was broken by the creak of floorboards as she walked barefoot down the stairs. The dim lighting from the moon spilled in through the large windows lighting up the open space just enough for her to see. She walked into the kitchen and grabbed a glass, filling it with cold water from the fridge.

She stood there a moment, sipping slowly, trying to calm herself down. Her eyes drifted to the sky outside. It was clear and scattered with more stars than she could count. She ran a hand up her neck, exhaling through her nose before pulling her shirt over her head, revealing a thin tank top that clung to her skin. Her small pajama shorts rode high on her thighs, and she tugged at the waistband out of habit as she redid her messy bun, a few stubborn curls falling loose around her face.

For a few minutes, she tried to focus on the quietness, on her breathing, on the cool glass against her lips but it didn’t work. Eventually, she gave up.

Setting her glass down on the counter with a soft clink, she turned and moved through the hall. Her knuckles hovered over Paige’s door for just a second before she knocked.

Paige heard the knock and stirred, blinking slowly as she registered the sound. She groaned softly, pushing the covers off and rubbing at her face before swinging her legs over the edge of the bed. Her body moved on autopilot as she moved across the room and opened the door still half-asleep.

Azzi stood there, her silhouette illuminated by the moonlight spilling in from down the hall. Paige blinked, her sleepy eyes scanning down the thin tank top clinging to Azzi’s body and the pajama shorts that left little to the imagination.

Paige blinked again, slower this time. “…Wassup? You good?” she asked, her voice rough from sleep.

Azzi shifted her weight, her lips pressing together for a second. “I’m hot,” she said simply, then added, “and I can’t sleep.”

Paige raised her eyebrows, a slow smirk tugging at the corner of her mouth as she tilted her head at Azzi’s choice of words. But she didn’t say anything, just stepped aside, opening the door further. “Come in.”

Azzi hesitated for a moment at the threshold as Paige moved back into the room. The cool air from Paige’s room brushing over her skin and making her exhale softly. It was a relief from the stuffy heat of her own room so she stepped inside, quietly closing the door behind her.

Paige was already crawling back in bed, flopping onto her stomach with a tired groan as she buried half her face back into a pillow. The sheet dipped slightly as her weight settled, the muscles in her back flexing faintly as she got adjusted.

Azzi walked over and carefully slid under the covers next to her, lying on her side as she looked at Paige.

“You always sleep like that?” she asked quietly.

Paige hummed. “Mmhmm.”

Azzi smiled a little. “Looks uncomfortable.”

“It’s not,” Paige mumbled into the pillow.

They were quiet for a moment before Azzi spoke again. “You okay with me being in here?”

Paige’s eyes stayed closed, but she shifted, turning her head toward Azzi. “Yeah.”

Azzi let out a slow breath, her body starting to relax as melted into the bed. “It’s freezing in here,” she added playfully.

“Better than melting,” Paige mumbled. After a pause, she added, “C’mere then.”

Azzi didn’t respond; she just smiled to herself before drifting closer under the covers and turning the other way. Paige shifted to her side and wrapped her arms around Azzi, pulling her in. Azzi immediately felt the heat from Paige’s skin and it was comforting; seeping into Azzi’s own skin and soothing the restlessness she'd been fighting all night.

Azzi whispered, “Thank you.”

“Mhmm.”

For a few moments, it was quiet. Paige’s breath was steady against the back of Azzi’s neck as she started to easily slip back into sleep.

But Azzi’s mind hadn’t settled. She spoke again, almost like a thought of hers slipped out without permission. “You sleep like this often? Holding people?”

Paige hummed. “Nope.”

Azzi smiled a little, her fingers brushing Paige’s forearm. “So, what I’m special?”

Paige gave a lazy, “Yup.”

Azzi kept going. “You’re warm...like stupid warm. I feel like I’m melting now…in a good way though”

“You’re welcome.”

Azzi chuckled under her breath, but when she opened her mouth again, Paige interrupted with a tired, “Azzi…”

Azzi paused, then tried to turn a little to face her. “Hm?”

Paige’s arms tightened around her, pulling her back into place as she mumbled against Azzi’s shoulder, “Go to sleep for me.”

Azzi was about to protest, but Paige somehow managed to pull her closer, her head gently resting on top of Azzi’s. One of her hands slipped under Azzi’s tanktop and her fingers drew patterns on her waist.

Azzi let out a quiet breath, her protest completely forgotten as she whispered, “Okay.” Her eyes finally fluttering closed.

[blueberrybirdsworld]

Collision 20/20

Summary:

Lando always had a type : blonde, models, not ready to settle down. Yet once he met her, all his world is changed and he slowly start to realises maybe he was wrong all this time.

It's a prequel story of The Cat Distribution System, on how Lando Norris fall in love with Ariana. Could be read seperatly.

Pairing : lando norris x original female character

Genre : Fluff, slow burn, enventual smut and angst

Warning : last chapter so pure fluff

Serie Masterlist

CHAPTER 20 : SMAU

BeReal: @landonorris

Shared to: Close Friends Only

Cohabitation update: she brought the cat, the ribbon collection & half a ballet studio. I brought… enthusiasm.

🗯️ Replies (Close Friends Only):

Carlos 

MONACO???

YOU MOVED IN WITH HER??

WE BLINKED AND YOU’RE A HUSBAND.

Charles

I KNEW IT

also tell Ari we expect invites now

Pietra 

I am ACTUALLY CRYING

this is the final boss of the soft boy arc

Max Fewtrell 

“I brought enthusiasm” 💀 bro what happened to you

used to be scared of cats

now you’re living with one and two silk robes probably

Pierre

this man went from “no labels” to “we live together and share ribbon storage” real quick

Max Verstappen

ARIA HAS A BALCONY NOW !

I’M COMING TO VISIT FOR THE CAT

will she let me hold her yet??? I’ve been manifesting this.

Oscar

can you confirm if this also means you now own throw pillows and scented candles?

George

this is the most emotionally evolved I’ve ever seen you 🥹

Kika

i’m actually sobbing. soft girls win again

Rebecca 

also Ari look GLOWY??? is that love or monaco sun, or both???

Alexandra

this is my roman empire

Group Chat: Grid Gossip 🏁

Carlos

so… just to clarify

@Lando did you actually move in with the ballerina and her cat?? 🧐

George

Really enjoying this transformation from “I don’t do feelings” to

“I now live with an emotionally intelligent woman and her suspicious cat”

✨Brilliant arc✨

Oscar

He used to flinch when he heard me say “relationship.”

Now she owns 90% of his apartment

Lando

you’re all SO dramatic

it’s just a flat

calm down

Charles

oh okay

a flat you moved into with your girlfriend

with a cat you used to fear but now call “baby”

Lando

I DID THAT ONCE 🙄

George

And we’ll never forget. 😌

Pierre

How many ribbons is she up to now?

Do you guys have a color-coded emotion chart on the fridge?

Lando

...maybe.

Max Verstappen

okay but more importantly

how is Aria doing???

is she adjusting?

is she happy?

does she need anything??? 😟

Carlos

mate. focus.

Max Verstappen

I AM.

ON THE CAT.

Lando

i hate all of you

deeply and emotionally

George

mate, you’re halfway to adopting a second cat

don’t threaten us with feelings

Charles

congrats tho 🫶

happy for you both

also pls invite us for dinner

Lando

🙄 fine

next weekend. pasta night. bring wine.

Group Chat: Fan club of Ariana

Created by Charles Leclerc

9:12 AM | the morning after dinner

Charles

good morning to everyone except Lando and his fairy-tale domestic life

Carlos

did anyone else feel like they stayed in a boutique spa ?

Oscar

his soap smells like jasmine and stability

I didn’t know that was possible

Pierre

the real question is

why do I feel safer at THEIR place than in my own apartment 🫠

Carlos

and WHY did i walk into the kitchen and find Lando

making espresso

shirtless

with one hand on Ariana’s waist

like a bloody Chanel ad

Charles

he even kissed her temple while she stirred oatmeal

i almost screamed 😩

Max Verstappen

you guys have you saw Aria let me pet her ?

that’s real

that’s progress 🐈✨

Oscar

I don’t think the convo was about the cat, Max

Max Verstappen

Not my fault they have very similar name, I thought it was a group chat about the cat

George

Did you really think we were talking about Lando and the cat all this time ??

Max Verstappen

What could we possibly talk about then ? 🤨

Carlos

The fact Lando have a girlfriend mate

Lando

…can I help you??

What’s the group chat name about ? 😒

George

yeah

explain why your fridge has oat milk, elderflower, and no longer Red Bull

WHO ARE YOU 💀

Lando

we have taste. leave me alone.

Pierre

you said “we.” 😭

WE.

Carlos

so when’s the engagement then? 💍👀

Lando

go home

Pierre

mate

you’re in too deep

it’s been HOW MANY months??

Carlos

someone tell this man the honeymoon phase does end

you don’t have to act like she just invented the sun every time she smiles

George

he’s got “day 3 of knowing her” energy

but it’s been half a year

Oscar

smiling at each other across ravioli doesn’t count as a personality

Lando

okay, yes

but this morning she said “I feel like the sea when I’m near you”

what was I supposed to do??? NOT CRY?? 😭😭

Carlos

she said “I feel like the sea” ??

I’m gonna throw a fork at something

George

my grandma didn’t even speak to my grandad like this and they were married for 47 years 💀

Charles

he’s living in a sonnet

meanwhile i just reheated pasta and got judged by my dog

Lando

slander aside

we’re happy

she’s happy

and I love her

deal with it 😌🫶

Max Verstappen

good for you

but real question is Aria more tuna or salmon for treats ??

i actually need answers I’m in the store rn

Charles

mate stop obsessing over the cat 😭

Max Verstappen

BUT I LOVE CATS

Lando

it’s kinda weird you’re more into a cat than my overly really great love life

but yeah salmon, Aria has standards 🐱

Max Verstappen

great I buy 10

also I’m starting a new group chat about the cat asap

George

the real relationship in question here is max and the cat tbh 💅

This is it, it's the last chapter of this very long and very important series for me. I enjoyed so much writting this story and interacting with everyone of you who commented, liked or reposted this, so thank you so much for your support!

I have maybe an idea for a bonus chapter...so the storie is not completly finish ;)

Until then my request are still open for future stories :)

Taglist : @angelluv16, @httpsxnox, @anunstablefangirl, @chocolatemagazinecupcake, @mayax2o07, @freyathehuntress, @verogonewild, @lilyofthevalley-09, @esw1012, @its-me-frankie, @linneaguriii, @ezzi-ln4, @rlbmutynnek, @actuallyazriel, @sofs16, @thulior, @sltwins, @knivesdoingcartwheels, @henna006, @stylesmoonlight12, @lilaissa, @sideboobrry11, @l3thal-l0lita, @lorena-mv33, @ispywlittleeye-blog, @lesliiieeeee, @sageskiesf1, @adynorris, @curlylando, @rebelliousneferut

Let me know if you want to be add to the taglist !

[limarkova]

Yandere Batfam x Neglected Reader x Yandere Al Ghuls

Pt 2.

Prev Next

*Author's note: OMG. Thank you guys so much for all the engagement on the first part. I didn’t think my first post would get that much reaction. Also yes I am spree writing this is! If you notice a mistake let me know. PS, the school named in this chapter is fictional and does not exist in the real world.

Alfred listened to the ringing phone line waiting for Bruce to answer. Seeing Miss (Name) in the hallway had been a surprise. He was fairly certain she was supposed to be away at Miss Rose's Boarding School for Young Woman in STEM. After two years of studying in the UK it was strange to have her appear without any notice. Especially since she hadn't visited or sent word in the past.

"Hello Alfred." The line stopped ringing and Alfred was greeted by Bruce.

"Master Bruce. Have you gotten any word from (Name)'s School about a sudden break in the school year?"

"No, why?" Alfred narrowed his eyes at the phone. Well that didn't make sense. Surely her school would notify them if she left.

Alfred began going through his memories. When was the last time Miss Rose's had called the manor? He couldn't seem to recall, they did have the manor's house number on file. "Well she just arrived at the manor and get into a bit of a scuffle with Master Damian. He thought she was an intruder and because I didn't know about her return I couldn't inform him about her in advance. Thankfully she seems unharmed but that was not a good foot to start their sibling relationship on."

There was a pause on the other end of the line. "That’s odd, we should have received some kind of notice. Alfred can you call Miss Rose's to see what's going on. I'll wrap up business here quickly and be on the next flight home."

"I will see to it sir." The phone call ended. As Alfred began looking for the correct number to call next, Dick came into the room.

"Hey Alfred, why didn't you tell me baby bird was coming back?" Dick gestured behind him towards the kitchen.

Alfred shook his head slightly, typing in the school's name on Google. "I was not aware she was returning today."

Dick blinked twice, "Wait, what? Her school is in Australia, how did she get on an international flight with no one being aware of it?"

"Her school isn't in Australia." Alfred's eyebrows scrunched together. Dick's mouth made an 'o' shape before clamping into a thin line. Alfred narrowed his eyes at the look before correcting Dick, "Her school is in Birmingham, UK."

"Right, right. Umm, still though how did she get back here without anyone being notified. Even than it's the middle of October, shouldn't classes still be in session." Dick placed his hand to his chin. His eyes took on the focus look he got when he was working on a case or solving a puzzle. Alfred finally got the number written down. Dick looked up at Alfred. There was this dawning look on his face, "Hey Alfred."

"Yes Master Dick."

"Something is really wrong here, we need to keep an eye on her."

Alfred nodded listening to another phone line ringing in his ear, "I agree."

You had to come up with a plan. Escaping the facilities hadn't happened because of rash promises of passion. No it took a year of observation, planning, and waiting. It took you learning every detail that had been place in front of you. Yes you had emotions and gave yourself little dramatic moments but you can't live there.

You grabbed an abandoned notebook on your desk. It was covered in stickers with the first three pages being scribbled on. You ripped them out before beginning to write out everything you knew about the facilities. One they had access to all kinds of medical equipment but it was older equipment that struggled to work sometimes. Two the gaurds were heavily arm with scratched up weapons. The scratching was probably where the serial numbers would've been. Third they had issues getting supplies from a Sionis. Fourth it was based in Gotham evidenced by you being able to find the manor days after escape.

On the next page you wrote out your family member's names. You also add in the new people, Duke Thomas and Damian Wayne. You had written down Talia but stopped to think for a minute.

Yes, your father had likely cheated on your mom with her. But did that make her guilty of destroying your mom's romance? Did she even know about your mother? Maybe your mom was the reason she left causing that line in your mother's diary. Even than you need to focus on the experiments. You could worry about your mother's betrayal later. You scratched Talia off the list.

When you flipped to the next page, there was a soft knock on your door. It creaked open revealing Duke. He offered you a soft smile as he poked his head into your room. "Hey, are you doing okay?"

You looked him up and down. Duke was new to manor and you still couldn't tell if he was visiting or lived here now. A small part of you questioned if he knew about your kidnapping. Did any of your siblings actually know what happeneded or had Bruce just told them the boarding school lie? Did he plan to do it to them too once you proved a success?

You turned back to your notebook scribbling the questions. You'd need to look into during your investigation, "I'm fine."

"I heard about Damian attacking you in the hallway." Duke inched into your room. You turned back a page and underlined Damian's name. Even if he had nothing to do with your suspicions about your father, you were not going let him act like him towards you. Duke chuckled nervously behind you, prompt you to close the book. Can't have them finding out... yet. "Is there someway I can maybe cheer you up? I mean you're clearly upset about something and I want to help if I possibly can?"

He continued to ramble on. You looked around your room as he talked. Eyes landing on your closet you had a slight realization. In your time at the experiments, you had grown. They may have torture you but they hadn't starved you. After all they need you healthy to ensure 'proper' results. The only clothes you had that fit you were probably the ones you were wearing. "Actually there is something."

"Oh! Yeah, what do you need?" Duke smiled brightly. It was as if his teeth were glowing with inner light. If your siblings and by proxy Duke had been told a lie, playing along with it would be smart. After all planning and observing meant staying unnoticed. You offer an unsure smile hoping it would play into what you were saying, "It's a long story but I left the boarding school in a hurry so I completely forgot to pack clothes."

"Okay." Duke made a weird face. Crap, that's not good.

"Yeah and I had a grow spurt so, most of my clothes here don't fit me anymore." You rubbed the back of your neck. Duke's face shifted into realization at your words. Crisis averted for now. You plowed ahead to keep him from asking about the school, making up a lie was not a good idea right now when you knew nothing about theirs. "I need to go clothes shopping. Can you take me to the mall?"

"Of course. What time did you want to go?" Duke made an awkward finger gun gesture towards. He looked tense. Not the tense you saw from the gaurds when you started pressing the line. It was more like the intern in the experiments who never looked at you directly.

You grabbed your notebook and stood. There's was a small backpack by your desk. You slid the book in before sling the bag over your shoulder, "Can we go now?"

"Yeah, let me just stop by my room to grab my keys and wallet." Duke held the door open for you. The walk to his room was quiet and slightly tense.

When he stopped at a door on the second floor you couldn't stop yourself from blurting, "So, you live here?"

"Oh yeah." He walked into the- his room. There were a few posters and some knick knacks on the few bookcases. More importantly there were moving boxes in the corner. Some of them were disassembled but a few were still intact with clothes scattered around them. In fact most of the room was covered in stary papers, clothes, etc. Duke grimaced, "Haha, I just moved in two months ago. Let's agree to not tell Alfred about the mess."

"He probably already knows and is silently judging you." A nervous laugh bubbled out of your stomach. The information swirled inside of you uneasily. Two months was awhile but not long in the grand scheme of things. Plus if Alfred didn't mention you than Duke probably didn't know anything. That would make him innocent in your kidnapping.

"Ahh here they are!" Duke's voice broke you out of the mixed up thoughts in your head. He was holding a silver chain with a dark brown wallet and several keys hanging from it. In his search he had basically ripped apart his laundry basket. He kicked the mess back towards the now mostly empty basket, "You ready?"

"Yeah. Can we get something to eat well we're out?" You felt ridiculous asking. It was another stark reminder of how normal everything but you felt.

Yet Duke didn't hesitate to smile at you and offer his hand, "Heck yeah. There's this awesome pizza place in the mall the serves the biggest slices I've ever seen."

"I don't remember the last time I had pizza."

"No way! Let's go, we need to get you a slice ASAP. This is a pizza emergency." Maybe you could make a new normal with him. Once you destroyed the experiments. Duke Thomas was officially off your list for now.

Something had shifted in Duke. He remembered asking his parents for a little sibling when he was four maybe five. They had kissed him on the forehead and told him that they didn't need another kid when they had a perfect one in front them. It had made him feel happy for a little bit but he always held that small hope.

He thought he would get that with Damian. To a degree he did but it didn’t feel right. Damian was too competitive and strong willed. Duke didn't feel like a big brother, he felt like a contestant at worst, a good friend at best.

Taking (Name) to the mall today had made him feel like a big brother. Seeing her slowly relax around him and get excited over tiny things. Like the cute dress at Justice, the pizza slice that was as big as her head, and the look on her face when she saw Barnes & Noble. He probably spent his whole allowance for the week but he didn't care. He had made his little sister happy.

They had one last stop to make before going home, Claire's. Duke insisted that she look around well he grabbed something. He went straight to friendship necklaces. There were quite a few to choose from. Crystals, Cats, The Wicked Musical. Than he saw it. Two pastel tie-dye koalas hugging each, it was perfect. Duke immediately grabbed it before going to find her.

That's when he noticed something was wrong. She was staring at something and shaking violently. The look in her eyes told him that she had gone off somewhere else mentally. He looked towards what she was looking at to see the piercing station.

There was an attendant cleaning off a newly open needle. The smell of alcohol wipes and disinfectant clear in air. He placed himself in between her and sight. "What’s wrong, kiddo?"

"I wanna go home." (Name) didn't speak above a tight whisper. Something in Duke began howling. This was wrong, she shouldn't be scared. He was there to protect her.

"Okay, but first I need you to tell me something. Where are you?" Duke tried to remember what they do for Jason when he gets like this. Fuck why was it so hard to remember grounding right now.

"I don't like needles." Her eyes flicked to his. They were wide and blaring with barely contained rage.

"That’s okay, but I need you to tell me where we are." Her eyes narrowed and her mouth tighten. He continued on, "I need to know you're here with me. Mentally."

"The Mall."

"We can go." Duke grabbed her hand gently. They paid and left. Once they were in the car, she relaxed again. Duke palmed the necklace in his hand. He had taken it out of the package. His own necklace was already around his neck.

She was staring out the window. The look in her eyes made Duke pause. She was watching the setting sun like it was first time she was seeing it. Mute awe painted her face like a classical painting. Duke pulled the little koala out of his pocket, "Hey, I got you something."

"Is it half the back seat?" She looked behind her to the bags. Barnes & Noble, The Childern's Place, Justice, and Build-a-Bear. Four places that equated to Five separate bags. Duke snorted before bursting out laughing.

"No. Jeez no, it's this." He held out the little koala necklace to her. Her eyes looked towards his own chest, where the other koala already hung. A friendship necklace. She took it into her hands gently. That classical painting look returning, mixes of sentimental joy and some unnamed human emotion that was baffling.

"Thank you, Duke."

"It's no problem." Duke wrapped his arm around her in an weird side hug over the center console. He had always wanted a little sibling and now that he had one he was never to going let her go.

"We might want to get back to manor before curfew." (Name) pointed to the digital display announcing 6:15pm. Duke cursed, shoving his keys into the ignition. She began to laugh hysterical. The manor was two hours away and 'curfew' aka patrol debrief was at 7pm. Duke flew out of the parking lot with manically laughing ten-year-old.

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@stove-top96 @00hellohello00 @mysticalhills

[monster-effer]

Your New Hobby – Sylus x reader

Summary: You start reading fanfic but are being secretive about it, Sylus is curious, shenanigans follow. Content: fluff, mild smut mention, silliness, Sylus and reader are dating, reader is not MC, Toji (JJK) mention (~800 wc) A/N: This silly idea came to me while I was reading a fanfic on AO3 lmao

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You’ve picked up a new hobby lately and you feel a teeny bit embarrassed about it. While you usually yap about anything and everything to Sylus, your handsome boyfriend, you only read fanfics when he is not home. Mostly so you can squeal in private.

This is not a foolproof method. He has caught you a few times still awake at ungodly times of the night when he returns home from a business deal. There are usually curious glances thrown your way but he hasn’t pressed you on it. Yet.

It is 3 am.

You should be sleeping but you found the holy grail of fanfics a few hours ago.

Toji x reader Modern AU slow burn Rating: Explicit 30 chapters long

It is pitch black in the room with nothing but your phone’s screen illuminating your face. In the background, you have relaxing ocean sounds playing from your sleep song playlist.

You are sprawled out on the bed giggling and kicking your feet because you’ve finally reached the chapter where the characters have sweaty, filthy sex. As much as you love the build up and anticipation in slow burns, the rollercoaster ride of emotions this story put you through was exhausting. But all that suffering has paid off because this smut is downright nasty. Your mouth is hanging wide open as you read the heinous acts committed in this sacred text.

You are so locked into the fic that you don’t hear Sylus arrive home.

You also don’t hear him open the bedroom door.

Nor do you hear him sneak up behind you.

It has not escaped his notice how preoccupied you’ve been with your phone lately. At first, he thought you were researching for a new mission. But over the past few weeks he’s noticed your sleeping schedule getting more and more off track. This piqued his interest because you prefer getting a good night’s rest when you are able to.

So, can you really blame him for wanting to take a quick peak?

Sylus slinks his way towards the bed. He is surprised that you haven’t noticed his approach but plans to use your inattentiveness to his advantage. When he is close enough to see what has you so enthralled, the usually unshakeable Onychinus leader is sent reeling from the absolute filth displayed on your screen.

He hovers over your shoulder for a few minutes reading along with you. As you continue to scroll multiple questions pop into his mind.

Who the hell is Toji? And why does he have such a vulgar mouth? A headlock ????!?!?

Who knew his sweet girlfriend was into this type of reading material? After taking note of everything he read, he decides to have a little fun with you.

“What are you doing up so late kitten?”

You feel your heart drop to your ass and let out a high-pitched scream when Sylus’ voice breaks you out of your fanfic induced trance. Your heartbeat is thrumming against your ribcage as you swiftly put your phone to sleep and throw it across the bed. You roll over onto your back and sit up, so you are facing him.

“I didn’t hear you come home,” you reply shakily from the sheer amount of adrenaline pumping through your veins.

“And I, didn’t hear you answer my question,” Sylus says with a smile as he begins to remove his clothes.

“I was…um…looking up a recipe.”

Sylus struggles to hold in a laugh at your terrible lie. “Really? At 3 am? And what were you planning to make?”

You fumble over your words a bit before you respond “Lasagna! Nothing like having it homemade right?”

While you were floundering, Sylus has stripped down to his boxers, ready to wash off the aftermath of a particularly bloody business deal. “Hmm, well I look forward to trying out this lasagna soon.”

You think you catch a twinkle in Sylus’ eyes before he turns away from you and strolls into the en suite bathroom.

You slump down into the silky sheets of the bed once he leaves the room. ‘That was such a close call,’ you think to yourself. Sylus has eyes like a hawk, so you’re thankful he didn’t see any of the delicious filth you were reading. You decide to play a game on your phone to calm your nerves while he showers.

After a few minutes pass the shower turns off. You can hear Sylus shuffle around as he dries off in the bathroom.

He comes out with a towel wrapped around his waist, using another towel to dry off his hair. While you don’t immediately look up at him, you can feel his eyes focused on you. Before you can ask if he needs something, he speaks.

“So, who is Toji and why is he putting ‘you’ in a headlock?”

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[yumeka-sxf]

After two months, the SxF manga is finally back! There's lots of interesting Melinda content here, so let's analyze!

I would say the main thing we learned about Melinda in this chapter reinforces what's been hinted at before - not only does she truly despise Donovan, but she's actually terrified of him. Her expression on this page when she thinks of his souless eyes says it all.

Whether her fear comes from direct abuse, knowledge of what unspeakable things he's done in the past, or something else entirely, has yet to be seen. This chapter also emphasizes the fact that she can't freely do what she wants without being fearful of what he would do. Just like at the end of the bus hijacking arc where she made Damian promise not to tell Donovan that she had come to pick him up, we see in this chapter that she can't let him know about her occult hobby either.

But while it's not clear what exactly Donovan does or has done to her to make her like this, what is clear is that her fear of him is what's caused this inescapable hatred of him, which was so strong that it caused her to also develop feelings of hatred for her son because he's something that connects her to Donovan. But like we've seen before when Anya first read her mind, her dislike for Damian is fickle; one minute she wants him to disappear, but deep down she loves him. While the first incident after the hijacking made her seem more ambivalent, this chapter reveals that her "good" side is her true intent - wanting to be a worthy mother to Damian and see him happy.

But her fear of Donovan is so gripping, that just the thought of confronting him makes her paralyzed with fear. She becomes too exhausted to continue and even starts questioning why she bothers with fortune telling at all. Perhaps it's an unconscious coping method that she uses to try and find a way out of the horrible situation she's in.

Hopefully we'll learn even more about Melinda in the next chapter when she has her appointment with "Dr. Forger." But another thing I wanted to point out in this chapter is reiterating how empathetic Yor is to Melinda's condition despite not knowing what's actually bothering her. And in recommending that Melinda see Loid at work, she's actually helping with his mission! (of course only Anya realized this).

And oh my god, the "grim reaper" joke had me cackling 😂 Their expressions in the first panel were hilarious enough, but then Yor had to make sure Anya knows that she doesn't use a scythe! That's just so her.

Guess it wouldn't be a SxF chapter without one quiet, bittersweet scene, courtesy of Loid this time 😭

I also love how the boys are enamored with Yor. Even foul-mouthed Damian can't bring himself to be directly rude to her, so he just runs away 😆

I know a lot can be said about the Tarot card meanings, but this post is long enough already, so I'll leave that part up to others who are better with that type of analysis 😅 I'm just glad the SxF manga is officially back! I'm relieved Endo is better and giving my best wishes that his health continues to stay good 🤞

[lulu-fic]

𝚂𝚄𝙻𝚃𝚁𝚈 𝚂𝙴𝙳𝚄𝙲𝚃𝙸𝙾𝙽

Synopsis: Your boyfriend just cheated on you. But you can't just let him get away with that, can you?

Warnings: Cheating ( not by y/n), swearing, sfw, mdni

Wc: 2.1k

An: My first published work. Genuinely nothing too crazy just dipping my toes in water but dw next chapter will be something 👀 also the ending is a bit rushed because I was sleepy 😛

Aggressive typing sound echoed through the walls of a dingy restroom, accompanied by someone's sobbing hiccups. That certain someone was you. Who would have thought your so-called lovely evening would end up with you crying in a stall of a dirty restroom? When you thought your life was finally rainbows and sunshine, god had to give you a reality check.

Flashback

"Here's your order, sir! That'll be $6.80." You said with your fake polite voice to the customer. The said customer took his coffee and fished in his pocket for cash. He finally handed you the required amount and exited the cafe. "Huff god today is draining me." You say. You check the cafe's clock and see it's 2:00 pm. "*Sigh* Still couple of hours to go." You think. But you did not let that bother you.

You are in your most optimistic energy today. Well, today is your most awaited date with Nick, your boyfriend of one year. Your experience with dating him has been nothing but nice. And you believe he's the one. You're finally going to propose him today.

"Y/n! Give me a hand here!" You're pulled out of your day dreaming when your co-worker calls for you. "Yeah, coming right away." You yell back. "*Sigh* life is good." You thought and smiled, resuming with your day.

Time skip

It's 5:13 pm. Your shift is almost over. God, was it a busy day today? You never had such a hectic shift. "Well, my shift is finally finished." You think. You were about to start packing up for the day when the bell jingles, indicating someone had entered the cafe. It was a man.

He was intimidatingly tall and it kind of scared you. His jet black styled hair fell on his face, covering some of his features. He wore a overcoat over a three-piece suit. Perfect attire for the chilly weather. Even though he looked like a gangster. When he finally looked up, it seemed like the time has stopped.

He looked enthernal. He had sharp features- somewhat neck-to-shoulder length hair, strong jawline, siren eyes straight nose, high cheekbones- everything about him was breathtaking. He also had light eyebags, giving signs of late night work. And his lips, god his lips. He had thin, soft looking lips, like rose petals. As if the Adonis himself craved his face. If you weren't so much of a loyal partner, you would have definitely shoot your shot. But he seemed oddly familiar to you.

"What would you like to order, sir?" You ask with your most professional voice, making sure there is no tinge of emotion. "A black coffee and a chocolate muffin, please." He said. And god if you already didn't thought he was attractive, now you definitely do. His voice sounded mature, rich and gravelly. His voice was a little rough too, it felt like he spent years smoking through his stressed moments.

"Y-yeah, right away, sir." You nervously replied. Yep, now you're definitely cursing your whole existence for stumbling in words just because you thought a guy's voice was hot. Seriously, what's wrong with you?

You turned around to make his order, which wasn't some rocket science. It's just a plain black coffee. But it actually felt like that. The man just kept watching you, observing your every move. How you ground the roasted coffee beans, how you brew the coffee, how you pour the coffee into the cup. No matter how much you tried to ignore the staring, it felt like he was boring into your soul. God damn, you didn't feel this nervous even on your first day of work. Ugh!

But you forgot to ask him a crucial question, will he takeaway the coffee or drink the coffee in here? You turned around to see him...still staring at you. "Will you takeaway or drink it here, sir?" You ask. He didn't reply at first. He just kept looking at you. Okay, now you're creeped out. "Sir?" You call out again. This time he's finally out of his whatever dreamland he was in.

"Will you takeaway or drink it here?" You ask again. "Um, takeaway." He replied. You nod your head and kneel down to take out the chocolate muffin from the freezer. Genuinely, he didn't seem like a guy who would like sweets. But oh well who are you to judge someone's taste bud? You take out a white cupcake box and put the sugary treat in it. When you're finally ready with his order, you extend it to him on the counter.

"That'll will $9 dollars. Also I'll be needing your name for the bill." You say. He still just kept looking at you. Okay, now he's starting to annoy you. Why he's looking at you like you're some kind of piece of meat? "Sir?" You call out again. He still didn't reply. "Hello, Earth to sir?" You wave your hand in front of him to grab his attention, which you finally did.

"Oh, yes?" He politely ask, while blinking twice. "Your name?" You ask back with a irritated voice. He chuckles at something.

"Colter Hunt."

God, Even his name was hot. You quickly write down his name, to make it seem like you weren't just fangirling on his name. Suddenly a black card comes in front of your vision. You look up to see him holding it out with his index and middle fingers. Your attention averts to his wrist which is adorned with a silver Cartier bracelet and Rolex watch. "Damn," you think, "so he's rich rich." You add after.

You take his card and inserting it quickly in the card swip machine, telling him to punch in his passcode. He type in his passcode and takes out his card after the transaction was completed.

"Have a good day, sir!" You say, back with your professional voice. He takes his order and was just about to exit the shop when he turned around to look one last time at you, and then finally leaves.

Huff, a hectic day it was.

At the Restaurant...

You are finally at your most awaited destination for the night. You open the gate to the restaurant and are greeted by the receptionist. "Good evening, sir. How can I help you?" She asked. "Uh I have a table reserved for two under my name. Hong it is." She checks her computer real quick and give you your table number with a polite smile. You thank her and go inside.

You see Nick already seated and waiting for you. You quickly take your seat. "Sorry for being late. I had a customer last minute who was taking some time." You quickly apologize for being late. "So, what should we order, huh?" You ask while picking up the menu. "Well I wanted to try the main course of here for long time. I saw the review online and they said it's very good, even the customer service. Oh and the dessert choices are also-" You stop with your rambling in the midway when you notice Nate not responding to any of your babble. He seemed to zone out. "Hey, Nick? What happened baby?" You ask. He breaks out of whatever dreamland and finally looks at. "Huh? What did you say?" Ugh why's everyone seemed to zone out today?

"I asked did something happened. You seemed lost." You repeat. "Oh um no- I mean yes- uh I don't know." He babbles. You make a puzzled face. "What do you mean?" You ask. "Did something happened at work?" You ask again. "Uh yes- I mean no but it was someone from so technically yes but no." He again keeps puzzling his word. "Nick what are you even talking about? I don't get it." You say in a baffled voice.

"Ugh, y/n I don't know how to say this but I have been wanting to say this, but it's just I never got a chance." He explains a bit. "It's okay. You can say now." You say. "Maybe he will be the one who's going to propose me." You think with a happy voice.

"I-I...I sleptwithsomeoneonemonthagoatHalloweenparty."

"What? What did you say?" You ask not understanding his "explanation".

"I-I...y/n I slept with someone. A month ago. And I-I just feel more attracted to her." He finally says it.

"What." You depanned. "Y/n, I'm sorry! I tried to tell you this multiple time but never got a chance and-" he tries to explain but you raise a hand to make him stop. "When was it?" You ask trying to keep your temper at bay.

"At halloween party of my office." He nervously admits. "So someone from office then, huh?" You interjected. "Yes." He confirms, not trying to make eye contact with you. "Who is it?" You finally ask. "Huh?" He looks up at you baffled. "Who. Is. It." You grit your teeth.

"Rachel." He breathes out. You exhale a breath of air you didn't know you were holding. The chair makes a screeching sound as you slowly get up. "Y/n I-" He tries to utter something but you beat him to it by splashing a glass water on his face.

"Do. Not. Tell. Me. Your. Filthy. Excuses!" You yell grabbing the attention of other customer. You finally leave that place, ignoring the calls of your name from behind. You stop at your pace and take a turn and make your way towards the the restroom door that had "Staff Only" written with bold letters.

End of flashback

Tears are flowing down your face as you type out the message to your bestfriend, basically explaining the situation. You're not hurt about the fact he cheated, you're just angry on the fact that he cheated on you? Hong Y/N. You remember thinking how guys used beg for a chance to even let them take you on a date. And when you finally decide to settle down, this happens?

No, you cannot let a man control your emotions like this. Nope. You reject the fact that you are crying over a man.

You get up from the toilet seat and go outside to quickly wash your hands. You make a quick text to your bestfriend saying that you'll be late and call for a uber.

You go outside the restaurant and breath in the cold air of the chilly weather, finally feeling at peace a little. Your uber quickly arrives at your destination. "Square Town Club, please." You quickly inform the driver as you take a seat. Tonight it'll be all about you. Not someone cheating asshole.

The uber driver reaches at your said address after 10 minutes and you pay him the amount required as you get out of the taxi.

When you enter the club, it seemed like you stepped into another world. Neon red and green lights blinding your sights, party music booming through speakers, people making out or even having sex in the middle of the dance floor. "Ew, disgusting." You think. But that's main goal of tonight, only stuff like these can take your mind off that bitch.

You go over to the bar counter. You knew the bartender , Ricky, through social media. Also the reason how you got to know about this place. He looks over at you and asks, "The usual?" "No." You answer back. "Give me anything. But 10x stronger." You add. He raises his eyebrows but says nothing. As he was preparing your drink, you felt a little uncomfortable. It felt like someone was boring their eyes into you. Yes it's a club, of course you will grab attention.

But this one seemed a little off. A little familiar.

As you looked around to catch the supposed person, you attention is caught by a person sitting at the most secluded place of the club. It was a very dark corner. You try your best to ignore him. Keyword: Try.

Because the moment you look away a scary looking bodygaurd comes up to you with a drink and says, "Sir, this drink is offered by our master with the small note." Turns out the said master is none other than the guy you tried to take a good look at before.

This time you trun around and squint your eyes to take a good look at him. And this time, by some miracle, you're finally able to get a good look of him. But Oh. My. God.

It's the cafe guy.

© lulu-fic, 2024. All rights reserved. Don't copy, translate or modify my work. And Do not post my work on any other platform.

[honeyhotteoks]

this night together - chapter sixteen (j.yh + s.mg)

chapter sixteen: a new normal

chapter summary: you're just starting to settle into your new home when wooyoung's heat strikes, unexpected and full of life changes for everyone.

warnings: anxiety, panic, traumatic heat allusions, but also almost entirely smut including: extreme horniness and neediness, grinding, fingering, oral f receiving, squirting, absolutely wet as fuck sex, cum/slick as lube, heavy makeouts and sexual awakenings, dvp and dp, (basically reader is double stuffed until she sees jesus), creampies, excessive orgasms, excessive cum, knotting, frottage, ball play, excessive use of praise b/c we know our boys love a 'good girl', size kink / reader is described as 'little omega' but it's more in a she's shorter / it's flirty way

notes: thank you all for waiting, i truly hope this chapter doesn't disappoint especially considering it's almost entirely smut. i think this will have ~2 more chapters, and they are already in flight! so more to come soon. thank you all. 💖

pairings: alpha!yunho x alpha!mingi x omega!reader

genre: smut, a/b/o/omegaverse, angst, fluff, romance, polyamory

word count: 14.2k

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before we get started, a couple new terms for those of you that are new to omegaverse!

nest / nesting: we've talked about this before, but as reader's nest actually features in this chapter i wanted to clarify that omega's nests are usually considered sacred and private spaces that belong to them / that they invite pack members into. her instincts to rearrange and make it her own are kind of primal, deep seated instincts to make the space hers. prime / prime alpha: this is called a lot of different things in different a/b/o universes, but the idea of a primary alpha is essentially like a pack leader. in packs of wolves for instance you may have many males or dominants (i.e. alphas) but only one would be the top of the pack / leader. it's not as literal within my a/b/o universe, but you can think of it more like which one of them fills that 'leader' role more often and kind of takes that burden onto their shoulders. spikes / heat spikes: this is something that can happen to omegas where they kind of go through a mini-heat or like a sudden wave of heat that's disconnected from a full heat that would have multiple days etc. this can be triggered in many different ways as you'll see, but i wanted to emphasize that this is not a full heat, and these spikes usually go away after a knot or after the omega is sexually satisfied and they 'cool off' so to speak.

okay! onto the chapter.... i hope you all enjoy!!

Few things feel as good as sleeping in on a Saturday after the week you’ve had, but sleeping in next to your boyfriends, your mates? That was another type of good all together. 

The choreography had been nothing less than intense this past week, actually challenging in ways that made you irritated at your lack of instant muscle memory. Your body aches and you’re exhausted, but at least you have no alarm set and the warmth of your alphas surrounding you. 

Sun peeks in through the slits in the blinds, finally hitting that perfect position in the sky to cast a swath of bright light over your eyes, and you shift in the sheets, tucking your face into the pillow with a little groan. 

A warm hand slips over your lower back, curling around until it’s splayed wide over your belly, and then suddenly you’re pulled back into Yunho’s arms with one tug. He’s still half asleep, gathering you up and enveloping you like you’re nothing more than a body pillow, something grumbled and inaudible from his lips as he sighs against your hair. 

You shift in his hold, “Babe, I need to breathe,” 

He sighs, arms loosening a fraction. 

Across the pack bed, Mingi groans and rolls over, blinking and searching for his glasses on the side table with one hand before reaching for you. His hand closes around your wrist and he tugs you towards him, but Yunho holds you tight. 

“Only one of me,” You laugh. 

Mingi blinks, eyes opening properly and he smiles sleepily, his hair a chaotic haystack, “Morning,” 

“Morning,”

“Mm,” Yunho sighs, “what time is it?” 

“Almost ten,” Mingi says through a yawn. 

“I’m going back to sleep,” Yunho buries his face in your hair, yawning too. 

Today was supposed to be the day Yunho finished his project, and the moment you remember that, anticipation thrums through you in a wave of silly giddiness, and you wriggle in his arms. 

“Baby,” He groans. 

“Yunho,” You exaggerate out his name, shifting again in his hold. 

“Fine,” He relaxes his arms, “I’ll cuddle Mingi,” 

Mingi snorts a laugh. 

“Yun,” You murmur, trying to keep the excitement in your voice to a normal level, “don’t you remember what today is?” 

“Saturday?” He yawns again. 

“Saturday,” You nudge him in the ribs. 

He smiles, cracking an eye open, “If it’s Saturday,” he says, “why are you waking me up?” 

“Because,” You nudge him again. 

“Because why?” He opens his eyes properly, looking down at you, an amused expression on his face.

You grin, “My surprise,” 

“Baby,” He shakes his head, giving you a quick peck on the lips, “I said it might be ready to show you this weekend,” 

“Oh, come on,” You sigh, “please?” 

“Sweetheart,” He tries, but you’ve made up your mind. 

“Yunho,” You sigh, “I know it’s a nest,” 

He rolls his eyes a little at your persistence, “I know you know,” 

“Mingi,” You turn to him, “get him to let me in,” 

Mingi grins, running his hands through his messy locks and sitting up, “What do you think I’m going to be able to do?” 

“You’re both no fun,” You groan, your forehead dropping to the mattress. 

It’s quiet for a beat, and then Yunho exhales, “Fine,” 

Your head snaps up, “Really?” 

“Yes, really,” He concedes. 

He’s about to say something else, but you’re climbing out of bed already like you’re a kid on Christmas morning, and Mingi laughs as you slide over him and reach back into the bed to pull them up. 

“Now?” Yunho grins. 

“Yes, now,”

“Just remember it’s not totally finished yet,” Yunho says, “almost, but,” 

“Come on,” You groan, pulling at his hands and trying to get him out of the bed. 

Yunho pushes himself up to standing, yanked forwards by your momentum and you both stumble down the hall, Mingi following behind with a lazy morning smile on his face. 

“Bro,” Mingi laughs, “you caved in like two seconds,” 

“Whatever,” Yunho shoots him a look. 

“Please,” You laugh, stopping in front of the tightly shut door in the hall, “you’re both too easy,” 

“Yeah, yeah,” Yunho drops a kiss on the top of your head and reaches for the door handle, “alright, close your eyes a second,” 

You follow his instructions, eyes shut tight and a stupid smile on your face. 

You hear the door open, and as subtly as you can you crack one eye open. Yunho’s reaching inside the room, the door barely ajar enough for his arm to fit into the space, and he’s fumbling to find something before he opens the door fully. 

Mingi clears his throat, soft but pointed at catching you spying, and your eyes close again. 

Reduced to just listening again, you hear the door open wide, and the shuffle of slippered feet as Yunho steps behind you. 

“Alright,” He says warmly before he touches your arms, “a few steps forwards,” 

You slowly follow the push of his body behind you until you’re in the right spot. 

“Okay,” He sighs, kissing your hair once more, “just remember we can change anything you don’t like, we just wanted to give you a starting place,” 

You nod eagerly, stomach flip flopping in anticipation. 

“I love you,” He murmurs, and then takes a step back from you, “now open your eyes,” 

A sharp gasp leaves you the second you open your eyes and see what he’s been working on for the past few weeks. The room is unrecognizable from what it used to be, and you take a few steps deeper into the room to get your eyes on it all, “Oh my god,” you breathe. 

There’s nothing unfinished about it, at least not to you considering you’ve never had a proper nest before. You take in the details in a rush, your eyes flicking over everything, a hand pressed over your surprised lips. 

There’s no bed frame, but there is a large nesting mattress big enough to fit the three of you during your heats or for you to get lost in when you need to be alone. Layers and layers of blankets in soft blues and purples that all look deliciously soft, pillows of varying shapes and sizes making the mattress more of a literal nest, and more set to the side on the floor so you can truly make it your own. 

The lights are low, shades drawn to minimize the natural light, but warm fairy lights are draped above the bed and small lamps and nightlights are set around on shelves and the floor alike to create a cozy, soft energy to the space. 

Along one wall you notice Wooyoung’s influence immediately, details you remember from his own heat sanctuary, a small fridge and shelves stocked with all the essentials. 

“Oh my god,” You echo, chest tight with emotion, “you did all this?” 

“We did,” Yunho says, “Wooyoung was pretty instrumental in the design choices though,”

You smile, turning back to find your alphas, “It’s perfect,” 

“You like it, baby?” Mingi asks, a smile spreading across his own face. 

“So much,” You spin on your heel to take it all in again, “I just, fuck, I can’t believe it,” 

“Yeah?” 

“I have a nest,” You laugh, “a real one,” 

Something flickers in your chest, your omega instincts crackling to the surface. You take a few more steps into the room, up to the edge of the bed and drop your hand over one of the soft pillows. You give it a tentative squeeze, and then you feel something you haven’t felt properly in years. Your chest starts to tighten, your hands itching, and an anxious tug from deep inside has you suddenly operating on instinct alone. 

Your alphas had done beautifully, they had given you such a canvas to work with, but it was up to you to make it whole. 

In a haze, you change the blanket and pillow configuration, a flurry of down and cotton as you toss pillows from one place to another and rearrange, exploring every texture and finding its proper home. When you move from one side of the bed to the other though, you stumble over a large plastic laundry basket that stops you dead in your tracks. 

  The whisper in your brain that something was missing quells as you look down to see a mix of Yunho and Mingi’s shirts and sweatshirts, all crumpled from wear and doused with their scents. You find their homes too, tucking them into their new homes, finding places for their comforting scents so that even when they aren’t physically present they are with you. You set one of Mingi’s hoodies aside, saving it to wear, and then you pick up the last item in the basket. 

Yunho’s blanket, the soft gray one that they wrapped you up in during your heat. 

With the blanket in your hands, you turn back to find them, your omega instincts telling you something completely different this time. 

When you turn, you realize they’re still standing in the hall at the doorway, watching you with warmth. 

“Oh,” You blink, “why aren’t you in here with me?” 

“Giving you time to acclimate,” Mingi notes, nodding towards the reworked bedding, “this is your space, what you say goes,” 

“This is,” You sigh, holding the blanket closer to your chest, “I can’t believe you did all this, it’s too much,” 

“It’s not,” Yunho insists softly, “it’s what we should have done from the beginning,” 

You soften at that, “Yunho,” 

A small smile pulls at his lips, and his eyes flick to the floor, blush creeping up his neck, before meeting your eyes again, “I had a lot to learn when you spent your heat here,” he explains gently, “I probably still have a lot to learn,” 

Your heart quickens in your chest. 

“But I want to be a good alpha to you,” Yunho murmurs, “I wanted to do this for you,” 

Mingi smiles, straightening up with pride and clapping Yunho on the shoulder to give him a squeeze of approval, “You’re a good prime,” 

Yunho’s head turns sharply to the side to look at Mingi in wide-eyed disbelief, “What?” 

Primes, prime alphas, in packs aren’t just common, they’re essential. In a group of alphas, it’s necessary and healthy for the good of a pack to have a leader, but those dynamics usually don’t reveal themselves clearly until a pack is much more established, with time and often with claims to solidify things. 

Despite that biological truth, Mingi shrugs, “Don’t look so surprised, of the two of us, you were always going to be prime,” 

“I, I mean,” Yunho stumbles over his words, “we don’t know that for sure,” 

“We do,” Mingi smiles, “don’t lose your head over it,” 

Your chest warms, and with a soft clear of your throat you bring their attention right back to you, “Can you both please get in here?”

Mingi grins, but Yunho still looks unmoored and all he can manage is a flustered blink at you, “Are you sure?” 

You sink back onto the bed and nod, “Yes, I’m sure,” you smile, “now, please, Alphas, will you come in or do I have to drag you in?” 

Both of their eyes sharpen in on you at your tone, and they’re across the threshold and at your side in seconds. 

Mingi crouches in front of you, his large hands sliding up and down your thighs, “So,” he murmurs, “you like your present, baby?” 

Heat stirs, something primal and hungry awakening in your belly. 

“Yes,” You murmur. 

“Yunho,” Mingi looks up at where Yunho’s still standing, something dazed in your lover’s eyes. 

“Hmm?” He looks down. 

Mingi nods, gesturing for him, and Yunho follows instructions, sinking to his knees. 

“I think I scared him,” Mingi huffs a laugh, nudging Yunho with his shoulder. 

“I’m good,” Yunho blinks back whatever thoughts he was spiraling in and smiles, looking up at you, “I’m sorry, you just surprised me, that’s all.” 

“Mhm,” Mingi smirks. 

You glance between them, and it’s like you can see the thread of tension holding Yunho’s mind somewhere else, his shoulders painfully straight. 

“Yunho,” You reach for him, sliding one hand along his forearm, the other on his neck, “baby,” 

He studies your face, “Hmm?” 

“I love my present,” You tell him softly, honestly. 

His hand covers yours, giving you a squeeze. 

“And I know we’ve all had our ups and downs getting here,” You add, “but you have always been a good alpha to me, you didn’t have to do all this for me to think that.” 

His shoulders start to soften. 

“I do love it though,” You add, “I’m keeping it,” 

Yunho grins, your levity breaking the tension, and he dips forwards to capture your lips in a tender kiss. 

You sigh, nuzzling him nose to nose, “You take such good care of me,” you mumble against his lips, finding his hands and bringing them to your hips so that both of them are touching you, holding you. 

Yunho makes a soft, pleased hum. 

“Both of you,” You shift back, pulling Mingi closer until all three of you are touching. 

Mingi’s eyes flick over you, biting his lip absently as he does, fingers tightening a little on your thighs. 

A bloom of your perfume soaks the air and both of your boys groan. 

“You do like your gift,” Mingi teases, one hand slipping between your thighs and squeezing properly. 

“Yeah,” You nod, breathless already. 

Yunho’s tongue darts out to wet his lips and his lips quirk, amused at your sudden neediness, “Can we come into your nest, little omega?” 

A knot forms low in your belly at his deep tone, and you nod, sliding back in the bedding to make space for them. 

Slowly, they crawl in to settle on either side of you, and you waste no time in pulling them in, all but yanking Mingi’s mouth to yours. 

“Mm,” He deepens the kiss, matching your hunger, “fuck, babe,” 

“We’ve got nowhere to be,” You kiss him again, “no plans,” 

“A little morning sex never hurt anyone,” Yunho jokes as he moves closer. 

“Exactly,” You hum as Mingi kisses over your neck, “a perfect start to the day,” 

Yunho laughs and slides a little further down, his hand smoothly pushing up the fabric of your loose tank top until it’s pooled on your upper chest, leaving your breasts exposed to the cool air. 

“Yes, please,” You breathe. 

He dips forwards, fingertips skating over your sensitive skin. 

Your hand knots into his hair as he starts to press hot, open mouthed kisses to your skin, peppering teasing licks around your hardening nipples. 

“Oh,” You gasp, “god,” 

Mingi pulls back to drink you in, and you must look like a needy mess, because his pupils dilate hungrily. In a snap, your legs are pushed open and Mingi is half hovering over you, his thigh slotting firmly between your legs as he captures your mouth again. 

“Mm!” You shudder at the sudden pressure against your cunt. 

Yunho chuckles, nipping once at your breast before taking your nipple in his mouth and softly sucking, his hand joining Mingi’s in your hair. 

“N-Need it,” You moan, rocking your hips to grind yourself on Mingi’s thigh. 

“Of course you do,” Mingi murmurs, cupping your cheek and kissing you again. 

You grind against him a steady rocking rhythm, pleasure starting to spike up and down your spine. 

“That’s our girl,” Mingi pants. 

“So pretty,” Yunho says as he kisses up your neck. 

From the bedroom down the hall, you hear the sudden and sharp sound of your phone ringing, but you let it ring out, focused on their mouths, their skin. 

When it rings again you shake your head, “It’s not important,” 

“Whoever it is can leave a message,” Mingi pants, pressing you back into the bedding and securing a hand on your backside to drag your hips into him. 

“Oh, fuck, right there,” You moan, threading your fingers tighter into Yunho’s hair, pressing him against your breast as he flicks his tongue over your pebbled nipple. 

Your phone rings a third time and you groan, falling back into the lush bedding of your nest, “It probably is important,” 

Yunho lifts off as your hips slow, “I’ll get it,” 

He throws you a quick smile and jogs out of the room, and you sigh under Mingi. 

“Hmm,” He squeezes you, “you were getting close,” 

“I know,” You breathe, cheeks warm and heart pounding, “but three calls in a row feels like an emergency,” 

He nods, opening his mouth to say something, but Yunho’s back in the room with your phone in hand. 

“I didn’t catch it,” He says, a worried expression on his face, “but Seonghwa called five times,” 

That gets your attention, and you sit straight up, Mingi rolling off you as your shirt slips back into place.

You’re dialing back immediately and the call connects after one ring. 

“Hey,” You start, but you barely get another word out before he’s talking. 

“Who is Yeosang?” He doesn’t sound angry, but he does sound strained. 

Shock passes through you, and both your alphas read your expression change immediately, bodies going tense on either side of you as you try to find the right words. 

“Wait,” You stammer out, “what’s going on?” 

“Who is he?” Seonghwa asks again, “Wooyoung is in heat, and he won’t let us touch him,” 

“He what?” You lean forwards, pushing out of their arms and pressing the phone closer to your ear. 

“He just keeps crying,” Seonghwa sounds lost, distressed and tense in a way you’ve never heard him, “and fucking apologizing, but he won’t tell us why,” 

“Seonghwa,” You steady your voice, “he’s in heat and he doesn’t want an alpha?” 

You feel the bed shifting on either side, Yunho’s warm hand sliding up your back and Mingi shifting so that he’s in front of you in a crouch, watching you carefully and listening to your side of the phone call. 

“Oh, he does,” Seonghwa corrects, “he just keeps saying he’s sorry, saying we shouldn’t touch him until he can explain,” 

“Fuck,” 

“Exactly,” He sighs like you should have already known, “and now he’s in the middle of spike and he just keeps calling for Yeosang,” 

You’re silent, your best friend’s secrets heavy on your tongue. 

Mingi finds your hand and holds it tight. 

“Sannie and I aren’t stupid,” He keeps going, “we know it must be the guy he’s seeing, but we can’t get anything else out of Youngie. We can’t get him here to help if all we know is his first fucking name,” 

There’s a muffled voice on Seonghwa’s side, and then you hear San, “His passcode, does she know it?” 

Even if you did, you wouldn’t offer up all of Wooyoung’s privacy like that. 

“y/n,” Seonghwa says, but you cut him off. 

“No, but I do know Yeosang. I have his Instagram,” You tell him, “but are you two alright? You have a hold of yourselves?” 

Yunho and Mingi exchange a look. 

“What are you asking me?” Seonghwa sounds shocked. 

“I’m asking if you two have your heads on straight,” You stay focused, for Wooyoung, “I’m not sending a stranger over to you with an omega in heat if you’re going to make this harder for Woo,” 

Seonghwa stays silent. 

“Yeosang is a beta,” You add quickly, “that should help keep things calm, but just… tell me you’ll let him in, and you’ll let him be what Woo is asking for,” 

“Of course we will,” He says, “You know me, you know us. We’ve got him,” 

There’s a whine on Seonghwa’s side of the phone, a heady sob, the sound of an omega in deep distress and your heart aches. 

“I’ll message him now,” You say, “keep your phone on you, I’ll keep you updated.” 

Seonghwa sighs heavily, “Thank you,” 

“Let’s just hope he responds quickly, I’ll text you,” 

As you drop the phone from your ear and quit the call, Yunho squeezes your thigh, “What’s going on?” 

You keep your eyes on your phone as you make short work of navigating to Yeosang’s profile and click on the button to send him a direct message, “Woo was supposed to tell them about his new boyfriend before his heat started,” 

“But he didn’t?” Yunho surmises. 

“And now he’s a mess and won’t stop asking for him,” You nod. 

Mingi hums, acknowledging your words and Yunho gives you another squeeze. 

Quickly you tap out the best message you can - Hi, Yeosang, you don’t know me but hopefully Wooyoung has mentioned me, I’m y/n and dance with him at BBT. I’m messaging you because Wooyoung’s heat started early and apparently he’s very distressed and asking for you. Please let me know when you receive this message. 

The message sends, delivers, and stays unread as you stare at it. 

Nervous energy bubbles in you. Wooyoung can make it through his heat unassisted, but you know better than anyone how painful and how awful that experience is. 

“Hey,” Mingi closes his hands over yours and directs your attention away from the screen, “babe, he’s going to be okay.” 

“I know,” You sigh, “but,” 

Your phone buzzes in your hand and you scramble to see the notification. 

A phone number and a clear response - Call me, please.

“Thank fuck,” 

Mingi squeezes your thigh as you dial, and Yunho wraps an arm around your back.

  Yeosang picks up on the first ring, “Hello?” 

“Is this Yeosang?” You check. 

“Yes, y/n?” His voice is warm, gentle, but laced with concern.

  “Yes, thank you so much for messaging me,” 

“Of course,” He breathes, “Wooyoung?” 

“I’m sorry,” You apologize, “I don’t know how much he’s told you about his heats,” 

“Some,” He replies, “I didn’t know he was due,” 

“I told him to talk to you,” You sigh, but refocus, “it doesn’t matter, I’m sorry if I’m about to overshare, I just want him to be okay,” 

“Anything,” Yeosang stammers out, “tell me anything I can do,” 

“He went into heat,” You explain, “he’s with our friends San and Seonghwa,” 

“His alphas,” Yeosang says, like it’s obvious.

  You stumble over Yeosang’s use of the word ‘his’ but you keep going, “Right, well, Seonghwa called me, Wooyoung is in heat but won’t let them help, and he’s been asking for you.” 

“Where is he?” The desperate tone of his voice makes the knot in your gut release. 

“He’s at his apartment, do you know where that is?” 

“No, he always comes to my place,” He says, “we always meet at the studio, or out,” 

You sigh, “Alright, can you meet me at the studio? How quickly can you get there?” 

There’s a rustle on his side of the phone before he says, “Fifteen-twenty minutes?” 

“Meet me there, out front,”

  “I’ll be there,” 

The call ends and you scramble up to your feet. 

“We’re coming with you,” Mingi jumps up. 

“I’ll drive,” Yunho presses a fast kiss to your hair jogs out into the hall. 

“What a mess,” You pull your hair back into a bun and head towards the bedroom to find something quick to change into. 

Your phone buzzes again and you see another frantic message from Seonghwa - Tell me you have good news.

“Fuck,” 

You quickly throw on a bra and start searching the closet for a hoodie as you call. 

“Hey,” Seonghwa’s voice is clipped, and you hear the distant sound of Wooyoung crying. 

“I got him,” 

He lets out a heavy sigh, “You’re an angel,” 

“I’m meeting up with him and bringing him over, put me on with Woo,” You rush through the apartment, past your boys to get your shoes on.

  “He’s a mess,” 

“Put him on, Hwa,” 

“Fine,” 

You listen as Seonghwa goes back into the room, Wooyoung’s crying getting louder and more clear through the phone. 

“Wooyoungie,” San’s voice comes through, “jagi, Seonghwa-hyung is here,” 

“Yeosang,” Wooyoung babbles, “you don’t unders-stand, I need him,” 

“Woo,” Seonghwa says softly, “we found Yeosang, okay? Okay, baby?” 

His cries quiet. 

“Can you talk to y/n? She’s on the phone,” 

Things get muffled, like the phone is held to Seonghwa’s chest, and then you hear him. 

“y/n?” Wooyoung sounds so small, so scared. 

“Hey, you,” You keep your tone nice and soft, “I heard your heat’s been hard,” 

A sniffle, “Yeah,” 

“I’m bringing Yeosang to you, okay?” You murmur, “Is that what you want?” 

Another sniffle, “I miss him so much,” 

“Okay, okay, of course,” You croon, “is it okay if he meets Sannie and Seonghwa?” 

He’s quiet for a long beat, and then his words come out in one nervous whisper, “I don’t know,” 

“I’ll be there to introduce okay,” You remind him, “I won’t come to your nest, but I’ll help everyone get comfortable with each other before they come to you, is that okay?” 

You hear a rustle and then he sobs, “Please, please, this hurts,” 

“Oh babe,” You soften, feeling Mingi wrap his arms around you from behind, “I know it hurts. Let your alphas help you, Yeosang will be there very soon, very soon,” 

Woo sniffles again, “‘Kay,” he says softly. 

There’s a rustle, and then San’s voice, “y/n?” 

“Hey Sannie,” 

“Thank you for doing this,” He sounds tense, “please hurry,” 

“We’ll be there as soon as we can,” You tell him, “you call me if you need anything in the meantime,” 

“Alright,” He murmurs, “see you soon,” 

The minute you hang up you’re back to rushing, “We’ve got to go,” 

They’ve both thrown on sweats and hoodies, and Mingi grabs a beanie while Yunho pulls down his ball cap, both of them hiding their bed head so you can rush out the door. 

You’re overwhelmingly nervous, knee bouncing and biting the inside of your cheek, concern for your best friend buzzing under your skin. You think about the last time you went through a heat unassisted and you shiver. For all your big talk about being able to get through it with toys, an unassisted heat is awful. They’re painful, messy, and exhausting, and when they’re over you always feel like there’s some kind of deep pit in your gut, something left unsatisfied, sure to come back with a vengeance the next time you go through a heat. 

You don’t want Wooyoung to have to go through that, and you don’t want San and Seonghwa sounding as stressed and helpless as they did on the phone. 

When you finally make it to the studio, Yunho’s car skidding into an illegal loading zone out front, Yeosang is already waiting. 

Your seatbelt is off and you’re out of the car before Yunho’s even thrown it into park. 

Yeosang is handsome, that much you already knew from seeing him on stage at Hongjoong’s listening party and his Instagram, but in person up close he’s actually startling. His skin is clear and very nearly poreless, eyes a rich, chocolatey brown only accented by his birthmark, a shock of blush pink next to one eye. His hair has changed too, a few weeks ago a longer platinum blonde but now somewhat shorter and a richer dark red. 

His eyes widen when he sees you, “You’re y/n?” 

“Yes, hi,” You’re not sure what you’re supposed to do. Shake hands? Bow? Offer a hug to the man about to go and rescue your best friend from abject horniness? 

You settle on a smile, “Sorry for the weird meeting,” 

“It’s fine,” He shakes his head, returning your smile, “how is he?” 

“Not great,” You admit, “I told him you were coming though,” 

“Yes,” He nods, “I mean, I normally wouldn’t rush meeting you, but should we go?” 

“Absolutely,” You nod. 

Yeosang’s eyes flick up and you feel the presence of Yunho and Mingi at your back. 

“Ah,” Yeosang says, “are these your alphas? Hello, I’m Yeosang,” 

“Oh!” You say as they step to either side of you, “Yes, this is Yunho and Mingi,” 

He nods, “I’ve heard about you both, it’s nice to meet you, even if this is kind of strange.” 

Yunho smiles, “You too,”

Mingi simply nods, his hand resting on the small of your back, “Ready?” 

“Yeah,” You look to Yeosang, “Yunho can drive us? If that’s alright,” 

“Whatever’s quickest, let’s go,” 

You pile back into the warmth of Yunho’s car, and the minute the doors are shut he starts to drive. 

“It shouldn’t be more than five or ten minutes,” Yunho comments. 

Your fingers fidget nervously in your lap. 

“You work for KQ right?” Mingi asks, looking at Yeosang through the rear-view mirror, “I think I’ve seen you around,” 

“Mm,” He nods, “Yes, in creative direction for New World’s albums,” 

“Cool,” Mingi nods. 

“You’re all dancers, right? Choreographers?” Yeosang makes conversation as best he can, but you can see the nerves plain as day in the way he holds himself, his mind somewhere else. 

“Mhm,” Yunho says, “we all work together,” 

“With San and Seonghwa too?” Yeosang asks. 

It occurs to you that for all the talking Wooyoung can do, he must have conveniently skipped some key details about his life if Yeosang is verifying this information with the three of you. 

“Yeah,” You respond, “Yeosang, do you,” 

Your voice trails off as you try to find your question, and he turns his head to regard you, eyes sharp, “Do I?” 

“Has Wooyoung talked about San and Seonghwa much?” 

You see your own alphas eyes flick up to watch the conversation, but they stay quiet. 

“Some,” He offers, “I know they’re close, and I know they help with his heats,” 

You nod. 

He studies your expression and then nods, as if some kind of answer has revealed itself to him, “There’s a history here,” 

“A bit,” You confess. 

“I’ve been waiting for Youngie to feel comfortable opening up to me,” Yeosang clears his throat softly, “he seems… guarded,” 

“He can be,” You agree, “but he has his reasons.” 

“Everyone does,” He nods. 

“If you like him as much as I think you do,” You offer, “I wouldn’t worry,” 

Yeosang nods and takes a deep breath, “Listen,” He says, “I know San and Seonghwa are your friends, but is there anything I should know before I go in there?” 

You shake your head, “They’re not like that,” you quell his fears, “they want what’s best for Wooyoung, and if that’s you, they’ll do whatever they can to support that.” 

Yeosang looks down, swallowing tightly, “Okay,” 

“We’re here,” Yunho comments, pulling into the garage of Wooyoung’s building. 

“Alright,” You take a deep breath, “I’ll take you up and introduce you to San and Seonghwa, but yeah, the rest I’ll leave to you.” 

“Thank you,” Yeosang says earnestly. 

The car slides into park, and Yunho turns, taking your hand, “Do you need to go up?” 

Your brow knits together, “Yeah,” 

His thumb rubs a line into your palm, and you see the concern across his face, “You sure?” 

Yeosang waits quietly, watching the interaction, and Mingi turns in his seat, “They did sound tense on the phone.” 

“I’ll be perfectly safe,” You assure them, “it’s just Sannie and Hwa, you know that.” 

Yunho releases a breath and nods, “Yeah,” 

“Do you want us to come with you?” Mingi offers. 

You shake your head, “Mm-mm,” you grimace, “that would stress things, I think.” 

You can already see the bristling alpha tension if they were anywhere near Wooyoung while he’s in heat, just like they would be if anyone was near you. It’s a recipe for disaster, and you just need this to go smoothly. 

“I’ll be back in five minutes,” You promise them. 

They nod, and Yunho releases your hand. 

“Let’s go,” You say to Yeosang, climbing out of the car and leading him to the elevators. 

It’s quiet for a moment, but then he glances at you, “Your alphas are protective of you,” 

“Mm,” You nod. 

“Because of what happened?” He asks plainly. 

Your head snaps to the side, “Woo told you about that?” 

He shakes his head, “Not exactly,” he replies, “we were together when he got the call you were hurt,” 

“Oh,” 

“He’s very protective of you,” Yeosang says as the elevator starts to rise, “I’m glad to see you’re the same for him. You’re a good friend, y/n.” 

“Thank you,” You manage weakly. 

Yeosang’s quiet for another beat and then he laughs, a huff of breath and a shake of his head, “Fuck,” he says, “this is ridiculous, but do I look okay?” 

You grin, “Yeah,” you laugh with him, “yeah, Yeosang you look great.” 

“I feel like I’m about to meet my in-laws or something,” He confesses. 

“They’re really nice,” You tell him, “I promise,” 

“Oh, I know,” He exhales a nervous breath, “it doesn’t make me less nervous.” 

“You really like Wooyoung, don’t you?” The elevator slows to a stop, the doors pulling open. 

“Yeah,” 

You lead him down the hall towards Wooyoung’s apartment door, “I was planning on telling you that if you ever hurt my best friend, I’ll kill you,” 

Yeosang laughs again, your joke helping cut some of the tension. 

“But,” You smile, “I don’t think I have to, I can see how much you like him. I don’t think you’d hurt him on purpose.” 

“Never,” He says with a flash of conviction. 

Anything else you’d have to say is cut short though when the apartment door a few feet in front of you swings open, San and Seonghwa are both anxiously in the doorway looking about as disheveled and stressed as they sounded on the phone. 

“God, thank god,” Seonghwa says, “he’s crying again,” 

You open your mouth to reply, but as you and Yeosang make it to the threshold of the door you watch the sudden silent exchange. The air shifting and changing around you is palpable, something strong enough that renders them all speechless. 

You recover first, “Well,” you awkwardly gesture between everyone, “Yeosang, this is San and Seonghwa, guys, this is Yeosang,” 

“Right,” San says, a dazed look in his eyes, “of course,” 

“It’s uh,” Yeosang blinks, “well it’s nice to meet you,” 

Seonghwa only nods. 

“I’m sorry,” San steps back, “come in, please, come in,” 

Yeosang steps in first, and you’re about to follow until the wave of scents hits you like a brick wall. It’s a cascade of distress, sharp and bitter, but underneath that is the syrupy warmth of arousal. Something tightens and wrenches in your gut and you stumble back. 

“I probably should leave you to it,” You shiver. 

That snaps Seonghwa out of his stupor and he turns, “You alright?” 

“Mhm,” You nod, “Yunho and Mingi are downstairs, but there's a lot of scents in here, I shouldn’t confuse things for Wooyoung.” 

He nods, “I’d hug you, but yeah, Wooyoung wouldn’t like it.” 

“Of course,” 

A sharp, pained sound cuts through the introductions though, Wooyoung’s cries building again. Your heart beats heavy in your chest, instincts buzzing under the surface. An omega in distress is never a good sound, you’ve made those noises yourself, and your expression softens in sympathy. 

“Oh,” Yeosang looks immediately pained. 

Wooyoung begs for something in the background, but you hear Yeosang’s name threaded in his pleas. 

Time to go. 

“y/n,” Seonghwa says, his eyes locked on Yeosang, “thank you for all your help,” 

Your cheeks heat, “Absolutely,” 

“P-please! Please,” Wooyoung’s tight cries come from the back room and you take another sliding step backwards into the hall. 

“I have to,” Yeosang stumbles forwards, “where is he?” 

As Seonghwa moves to shut the door, barely a backwards glance at you with their renewed focus, you watch as San’s hand gently touches Yeosang’s back, steering him forwards. 

When the door finally shuts, you sink against the wall and recover your breath. 

Through the door you hear another whine, and you shiver, immediately jogging for the elevator. 

You want your own alphas now, some kind of mirrored neediness in your gut just from being in the room for a few seconds, but your mind turns over the interaction between Yeosang, San, and Seonghwa. 

When you get back to the car, it’s with a pit of something twisting in your gut. You can’t quite put your finger on it, but it’s there, and you find yourself tugging open the passenger side door and sliding right onto Mingi’s waiting lap. 

“Hey, hey,” He steadies you as you crawl onto him, “what’s wrong, what happened?” 

“Nothing,” You assure them both, “but it was like a pheromone bomb in there, I just need you for a second,” 

“Mkay,” Mingi laughs, shifting you into a better position and closing the car door. 

You take a deep, steady breath and let their combined scents wash over you. 

Yunho smooths his hand over your thigh from the driver’s side, “How’s Wooyoung?” 

“Better now,” You let your head loll onto Mingi’s chest, snuggling into him, “they’ll be just fine,” 

“Oh?” Yunho quirks a brow. 

“Mhm,” You shift in Mingi’s lap a little, “the vibe was heavy,” 

“Heavy bad?” Mingi looks down at you. 

“Definitely not in a bad way,” You laugh a little, “I think they’re about to have a wild three days,” 

Mingi snorts a laugh and Yunho grins, “Oh,” he smirks, “that kind of heavy,” 

“Yeah,” You sigh, shifting again to get comfortable, breathing in Mingi’s rich scent again. 

“Babe,” He kisses your hair, “you okay?” 

“Mhm,” You nod, “my back’s just achy,” 

Mingi makes a soft, displeased sound with his tongue against his teeth and his broad hand finds your lower spine, rubbing firm circles into the offending spot. 

You groan softly and nod, your eyes drifting shut a second. 

They’re quiet, but after a beat you look up at Yunho, “Can we go home?” 

“Sure,” He nods, studying your face, “you want to get in the back?” 

Your hands tighten on Mingi, “Do I have to?” 

Yunho’s brows knit together in confusion. 

“It’s not safe with both of us in the front seat, babe,” Mingi offers softly, “and someone could pull us over,” 

You don’t know why, but that idea makes you deeply upset, almost unsettled, and you feel tears prick at your eyes. 

Noticing your distress, Mingi offers an alternative, “I’ll come sit in the back with you,” 

“No,” You shake your head sharply, hand darting out to grab Yunho’s forearm. 

Yunho glances up at Mingi, something imperceptible in his expression, but then he looks back to you, “Honey,” he says softly, incredibly gently, “when is your heat due, again?” 

“A couple of weeks,” You remember the exact thought you had this morning looking at your pill pack of suppressants, “we’ve got time,” 

You squirm again in Mingi’s lap, cheeks flushed with warmth, and Mingi gently touches your chin to draw your eyes up, “You sure about that?” 

“Yeah,” You nod, “I just missed you, it’s just, I’m not in heat,” 

Mingi’s opposite hand slides from your hip across your low belly, hand splayed wide and possessive across your abdomen, and you feel the snap response of your body; perfume blooming thick in the air, and you moan and twitch at the sudden contact. 

Yunho’s eyes widen. 

“Oh fuck,” You shiver, “oh, Jesus, am I in heat?” 

“Breathe,” Mingi soothes you, rubbing your abdomen softly and kissing your hair, “it’s okay,” 

Yunho reaches across the car to touch your cheek, his cool hand feeling so good against your skin, “You’re running a mild temperature,” 

A whine bubbles out of you. 

“Yunho,” Mingi says calmly, shifting you on his lap until you’re properly positioned with your back to his chest, “get us home,” 

Yunho nods, “Buckle her in,” 

Mingi stretches the seat belt around both of you and clicks it into place.

”It’s early,” You shiver, your body starting to clench and tighten. 

“I think Woo’s heat this close to yours triggered a spike,” Mingi murmurs, soothing you with his broad hands, “it’s too quick of an onset for real heat,” 

The car’s moving, but it all feels kind of blurry around you, “Feels real enough,” 

“We’ve got you,” Yunho assures you, his hand steady on your thigh as he weaves through the back streets of Seoul to make it home. 

The first strong pulse rocks through your core, and slick pools in your panties, “Fuck,” 

“Shh, shh,” Mingi’s hands travel over you, kisses on your temple, “we’ll be home soon,” 

Your hands find his thighs, gripping the fabric of his sweats, “Want my nest,” 

Yunho grins, looking down at you, “Yeah?” 

“Yeah,” You bite down on your cheek, trying to breathe through the sudden onset of pain and arousal thrumming through you. 

Yunho keeps his eyes on the road, but his hand cups the back of your head, soothing fingers on your scalp, “I love you,” he says with warmth and pride, “I’ll get you home, just hold on for a few minutes,” 

You nod into his hand, but another cramp rips through you and you whimper, “This is too fast,” 

“Definitely a spike,” Mingi soothes you, “go easy, babe, breathe,” 

Your body aches, skin hot and tight, and you fumble for the zipper on your hoodie, “Need this off,” 

Mingi takes over, unzipping the hoodie and opening it up, helping as you try to shimmy it off your arms while still being buckled to him. 

“Mingi,” You whine as you settle back on his chest, panicked emotion pulsing through you, “what’s happening?” 

“You’ve had spikes before, right?” His hands close over yours, trying to still your panicked movements. 

Of course you had, they’re not uncommon at all, but it doesn’t change the fact that in this headspace with how fast it came on, your emotions are thrumming through you fast and hard like you were just dropped directly into the center of your heat. It makes your heart pound, your hands shake, and your head, your head is so dizzy. 

“They come on fast and leave fast,” Yunho notes, downshifting and pressing the gas, “you’ll be just fine,” 

It’s easy for him to say, but you’re the one swimming through a pool of overstimulation. The car too loud, the light too bright, the fabric of your shirt too scratchy. 

A panicked sob bubbles in your throat, “Mingi,” 

“Right here,” He wraps his arms around you more tightly. 

“I’m dizzy,” Your breath comes in little fits and starts. 

“I’ve got you,” He promises. 

“We’ll be back to your nest so soon, sweetheart,” Yunho says, and you feel the way the car surges forwards. 

“Too fast,” You manage again, “it’s too fast,” 

“Omega,” Mingi’s voice is warm, close to your ear now, “close your eyes for me,” 

You press them closed, hands still white knuckled on his pants. 

“Trust us,” He soothes softly, “just listen to the sound of my voice. Nothing else is here, okay? It’s just you and me and Yunho, and we’ve got you.” 

You answer him with another hitched breath as you try to center yourself through the fast moving waves of sudden heat. 

It takes fifteen minutes to get home, and Mingi softly speaks to you the entire time. He holds you close, soothing you with just the sound of his voice, talking about everything and nothing at all. 

When you’re home, he picks you up against his chest and cradles you to his chest, murmuring to keep your eyes closed while the two of them make short work of getting you inside as quickly as possible. 

You only let your eyes flutter open again when you hear the comforting quiet of your apartment. 

Mingi walks you directly into the nest and Yunho follows close behind. 

A cramp ripples through your belly at the sudden scent of arousal in the room, still thick and lingering from earlier this morning. 

“Here we go,” Yunho says softly, taking off your shoes as Mingi settles you into the mattress. 

You whimper at the touch of his skin, “I’m going insane,” 

“It’s okay,” Yunho slides your sweats and underwear off next as Mingi works on your top. 

“I d-didn’t know I’d react like this,” Your body clenches, a wave of slick rushing forward to prepare you for a knot. 

“We didn’t either,” Yunho says, “but we have nothing to do today but make you feel better, okay?”

You watch as Mingi strips off his hoodie and tank top, giving you a gentle smile. 

Now, stripped bare in the center of your new nest, all you have to do is whimper and you watch as both of your alphas drop back to their knees for you. 

“We got you,” Yunho’s hand smooths over your skin from the curve of your foot up your calf, your knee, your inner thigh, “don’t we Mingi?” 

Mingi mimics his movements, his hand finding a home on your opposite thigh, “‘Course we do,” 

You nod, flushed and frantic, “Please, please,” 

They’re hands push you open wide, and Yunho sighs, “Oh, baby, you’re so wet,” 

You could tell even before they undressed you, your inner thighs were sticky with slick, and you can feel it pulsing and dripping between your thighs. 

“Prettiest pussy I’ve ever seen,” Mingi says appreciatively, fingers grazing your mound. 

“Touch me,” You whine, “please,”

  Yunho licks his lips, his index and middle fingers settling on either side of your slit, pressing open to reveal all of you. 

You’re panting under them, your cunt spasming with need. 

Mingi smirks, this thumb finding the apex of your cunt, pressing down and dragging up to effectively pull back the hood over your tender clit, “Look at that,” he sighs, his eyes hungry for it. 

“Mm,” Yunho slides a little lower in the bed, “your little clit is so swollen, pretty girl,” 

Your hips buck, but their hands on your thighs keep you folded open and in place. 

“Aw,” Mingi teases, “it’s throbbing,” 

Your hands fist the sheets, “Please,” 

“Needy girl,” Mingi murmurs. 

They haven’t even touched you yet, not properly, but you feel like you could combust. Your breath is coming in sharp pants, and you squirm under them in hopes that they’ll finally, finally give in and give you what your body so desperately craves. 

“Come here,” Yunho says, and you blink, looking down at him to see where he wants you. 

You realize in a snap though, his words weren’t meant for you, and you watch Yunho and Mingi both sidle down onto their fronts between your splayed thighs. 

Their fingers spread you open and you shudder, “Oh my god,” 

“Soaking wet,” Mingi sighs, his warm breath tickling your inner thigh. 

“Making such a mess,” Yunho agrees, and then you feel his finger brush a line from your clit to your entrance, teasing your hot center with just the slightest bit of pressure. 

A cramp ripples through you and you whimper, “I need,” you swallow, trying to clear some of the dryness, “I need more, please, I can’t wait,”

“She can’t wait,” Yunho observes, kissing your thigh. 

Mingi hums, “I don’t know if I can either,” he says, “look at her,” 

Your hips buck again, and they exchange words you can’t quite hear through the blood rushing in your ears. 

The next thing you feel sends you arching in the sheets with a shout as both of their tongues swipe a hot line through your folds. 

It’s the hottest thing you’ve ever felt, but when you look down, it’s surely the hottest thing you’ve ever seen, that much is clear. Each of them has one hand hooked under a knee and folding you open like you’re a meal. Mingi grips your ass cheek with his free hand, effectively lifting you to their mouths, while Yunho’s opposite hand is still between your legs, holding your pussy open wide, the pad of his middle finger teasing your hole with tiny brushes. 

Pleasure sparks and blooms in waves through your body, and your eyes roll when you hear them groan, hands tight on your skin, the sides of their faces pressed together so that they can both get the access they need to your cunt. 

“Tastes so good,” Mingi pants as he takes a breath, his hips rolling once against the mattress. 

“Feels so good,” You pant, breath sharp in your chest. 

Mingi pushes into you with the firm muscle of his tongue, little thrusts into your sweet spot, and Yunho shifts to closing his lips over your sensitive clit, sucking sharply in rhythmic bursts. 

With a gasp, one hand flies down to knot into his hair, your hips rocking back and forth to get every ounce of feeling coursing through your body. 

“Oh, oh,” You moan, sounds staccatos with every suck and thrust, “oh, yes, yes,” 

Yunho sucks a sharp breath in through his nose and buries himself closer, Mingi following in tandem, both of them losing themselves in the lewdness, every wet sound, every moan, their own hot skin against each other. 

“So hot,” You moan, craning your neck to watch them pleasure you, “god, I’m so lucky,” 

Yunho groans, his hand landing in the center of Mingi’s back to brace himself, both of their tongues together now as they work your throbbing pussy. 

When Mingi moans at the contact though, the air shifts. 

Something changes, an initial accidental connection of their lips, and then all at once they’re snapping together like magnets, heady wet kisses that leaves Yunho’s hand slipping off your thigh and Mingi moaning into his best friend’s mouth. 

“Oh shit,” Mingi pants, but he doesn’t pull away. 

Yunho sinks into him, his hand cupping Mingi’s cheek now, their tongues tangled, bodies pressing more together between your trembling legs. 

Your fingers find your clit in a second, rubbing firm circles as you watch them in awe, your mouth hanging open and your body tightening up with more arousal. You don’t know where this is going, but all you know is that it’s good, you can see that in the smile on Yunho’s lips and the dopey pleasured haze in Mingi’s eyes. 

“Oh, fuck,” Yunho groans as their hips connect between them, “Jesus, you’re so fucking hard,” 

Mingi pants a laugh, “Uh-huh,” is all he can manage before pulling Yunho into another frantic kiss. 

Hot need sparks through you, and you rub yourself faster, a whine pulling sharply from your chest. 

The sound of your whine breaks them apart suddenly though, and Yunho’s head snaps up to you, “Oh, jagi,” he looks pained, “sweetheart, I’m sorry,” 

“D-don’t stop,” You shudder, “I just, I just,” 

Thoughts don’t come, you’re just a wet mess, reaching desperately for an orgasm you can’t quite touch on your own. 

Yunho and Mingi share a fast, heated glance, but Yunho shifts back and then you watch as he pushes his hand into Mingi’s hair, “Help our girl,” he says breathlessly, pushing his head forwards, “she needs to come,” 

Without a word, Mingi wraps himself around your thighs and pushes away your hand, his tongue diving back to work on your aching clit. 

Yunho watches, stepping out of the bed to shuck off his clothes, and your mouth waters as you see his cock spring free from his boxers, hard and leaking beads of precum. 

You reach for him, beckoning him back into the nest, needing both of them close. 

“I’m here,” He soothes, shuffling back between your thighs on his knees, “come for your Alpha, sweet girl,” 

You moan, arching, pushing your pussy into Mingi’s hungry mouth. 

“That’s it,” Yunho coaches, “she likes that, just like that,” 

Mingi doubles his efforts with his tongue and your muscles start to lock up, the knot in your belly tight and hot. Your mind spins as you watch Mingi moan into you, Yunho pulling Mingi’s sweats and boxers off in two smooth tugs. 

“I’m c-close,” You pant, the now familiar pressure growing in your belly, “Mingi, baby, I’m g-gonna, oh god, I’m, I’m,” 

“Come,” Yunho holds your gaze, “come, let go,” 

It slams into you, your body jerking sharply on its own, clear fluid pulsing out of you, and Mingi pulls back to rub at your clit and prolong the pleasure, covering himself in your slick wetness in the process. 

“Oh, baby,” Yunho says appreciatively, “good girl,” 

Your mind is still exploding with little pops and sparks of pleasure, body shuddering, but you watch as Mingi pulls away, his chest flushed dark pink and shining with your slick. 

Yunho tugs him without any hesitation, crashing their mouths together once more. 

Mingi’s one hand flies to Yunho’s waist to brace himself, the other still anchored on your inner thigh, and he moans sharply at the contact. 

Yunho leans back with a groan though, finding your eyes, “Jagi,” he says, voice low with desire, “you taste so sweet,” 

You shiver, words failing you. Normally after an orgasm like that you’d be at least a little sated, but instead you’re thrown back into the deep end of your heat spike. A desperate sound slips from your lips, and your eyes are shiny with pleasured tears. 

“More?” Yunho asks, already knowing the answer. 

You nod, canting your hips, begging with your body language.

“Does it hurt, babe?” Mingi takes in your expression, his hand smoothing over your skin. 

As if your body can hear him, a cramp ripples through you and you jerk, hands flying to your tense abdomen as you nod. 

“I’ve got her,” Yunho slides closer to you, “sweetheart, I’ve got you, okay?” 

“Y-Yunho,” You sob, “please,” 

He doesn’t wait this time, doesn’t tease, he just pushes two fingers deep into your pulsing channel and curls his fingers to find your g-spot. 

 You moan low, back arching. 

His other hand covers yours, holding it tightly and keeping it situated solidly over your lower stomach where the cramps were pulsing just a moment before. When he starts to pulse his fingers, a steady pumping rhythm that drags against your sweet spot, you surrender completely to it all and go limp, letting him draw out your pleasure with precise pumps of his long fingers. 

Mingi laces his fingers with your other hand, leaning forward to press a kiss to the back of your knuckles, “That’s it, pretty omega,” 

“Fuck,” You arch, hips aching from pressing yourself open even wider. 

Yunho pushes a third finger into you without warning and you gasp. 

“Mingi,” Yunho says, his voice a pant, “clit,” 

“Yeah,” He replies, hand breaking from yours and thumb locking over your pulsing nub. 

A hot knife of pleasure slices through your body as he starts to rub, your mind a shuddering mess, babbled pleas on your tongue. 

Mingi’s fingers rest over Yunho’s hand and yours, and it feels like the temperature in the room has gone up and up with the way you’re all slick with sweat and getting lost in this cloud of need. 

The knot of pressure is back, and you keen, “Gonna come,” 

“Yes,” Mingi sighs, “come babe,” 

You moan. 

“Come omega,” Yunho says, his voice breathless as he works his fingers into you, “come babygirl,” 

“N-need it,” You beg. 

“Make a mess, jagi,” Yunho presses down over your belly, “that’s it,”

“Come,” Mingi demands softly, and your body complies.

Your body jerks on its own, the rush of your release hitting even harder than before and you crack open under their combined hands, legs trembling and body shaking as you sink into the pleasure. 

“Oh,” Yunho chuckles appreciatively, “good shivers,” 

“So beautiful,” Mingi breathes. 

Their hands slow just before things get sharp and overstimulated, and through the haze you feel them settle your legs back down and soothe you with soft touches. 

“Hey,” Mingi’s voice has you blinking your eyes open, but you see he’s not talking to you, “uh,” 

Yunho brushes back Mingi’s hair, “It’s us,” he reminds him, “everything together, right?” 

Mingi nods, a relieved breath sighing out, “Right,” 

“It felt good,” Yunho continues gently, his hand shifting to cup Mingi’s cheek, “you feel good,” he corrects. 

Mingi nods.

“It feels right to me,” Yunho confesses quietly. 

Mingi manages a small nod, “Yeah,” he says, “me too,”  

Slowly, you shift up in the bed, pulling Yunho’s blanket around your body but careful not to disturb their moment. On their knees in the center of your nest, they come to this new truth quietly and with surprising ease. 

“We’re okay,” Yunho offers softly. 

Mingi nods again, but you see the way he’s fidgeting with his hands, nervous and unsure on his thighs. 

It’s quiet for a beat, and then Yunho dips forwards to press their lips together. 

It stirs something inside you to see them so intimately close, but it also feels like another link in the chain of your pack connecting and getting stronger, and your chest warms with affection. 

Their lips part, eyes studying each other, and Mingi smiles, “This is weird,” 

“Bad?” Yunho checks affectionately.  

“Good,” Mingi corrects, “weirdly good,” 

Yunho smiles, nodding, “Yeah,” 

Mingi takes a breath and leans away a little so he can look down to you, “Our girl seems to think so too?” 

“M-me?” You stumble over the word. 

“Yes, you,” Mingi slides down into the bedding on your one side, “come here, how are you feeling?” 

“Okay,” You snuggle into him, “love you,” 

“Love you too, baby,” He kisses your forehead. 

Yunho settles on your other side and wraps an arm around you both, sandwiching you tightly together, “Do either of you need anything?” 

You reach and find his hip, tugging him, “Closer,” 

He shifts in, and Mingi covers you all in the blanket. 

“How’s the spike?” Yunho kisses your hair. 

You snuggle more into Mingi’s chest with a murmured reply that doesn’t make sense, you’re just feeling soft and sated. 

“y/n,” Mingi’s voice is soft, a knuckle brushing against your cheek, “talk to us, baby,” 

“She came hard,” Yunho kisses your bare shoulder, “give her a minute,” 

“I’m okay,” You blink, stretching your limbs between them, “little dizzy,” 

Yunho intertwines your hands and gives you a squeeze, “We’re right here,” 

A wave of emotion passes over you and your hands tighten, “Stay close?” 

“Not going anywhere,” He assures you. 

Your fingers grip down on Mingi’s chest, “A-are we sure I’m not in heat?” 

“You know your body,” Mingi says, “but I don’t think so,” 

You sniffle, trying to clear the potential wave of tears you’re suddenly feeling. It’s like someone cranked all your hormones to eleven, and you’re ping ponging between every feeling in a normal heat at record speed, all at once. 

“No pre-heat,” Yunho kisses you again, “and this came out of nowhere, it’s going to clear up soon, sweetheart,” 

You nod, biting your lip to keep from crying. 

“Plus,” Yunho offers softly, “heat spikes usually have high highs and low lows,” 

He’s been doing his research, and that’s the thought that inexplicably makes a sob bubble out of your chest. 

“Oh, babe,” Mingi shushes you, rocking you gently, “you’re okay,” 

“I feel crazy,” You admit, “I was f-fine this morning,” 

“Mhm,” Mingi soothes, “and you’ll be fine again after a knot,” 

“I’m not ready for my heat,” You feel panicky, stressed at all the things that come with that. 

“Breathe,” Yunho rests a palm over your chest and with a push presses your back to his chest, “breathe deep with me, okay?” 

As Yunho draws in a long breath of air, Mingi finds your palm and rests it over his chest, matching Yunho’s breathing rhythm so that they’re cocooning you in the same, steady pattern. 

“There we go,” Yunho nods against your hair as you exhale, “now, breathe in,” 

You draw in a long breath, Mingi nodding in encouragement. 

“Out,” Yunho prompts, and you all let the breath go. 

“Again,” Mingi says softly, and you all sync once more. 

“Keep breathing with Mingi,” Yunho says softly, “good girl,” 

Your tears have faded, the panic in your chest starting to subside. 

“This is just a spike,” Yunho murmurs, “and I know it feel scary and overwhelming, but remember where you are,” 

His warm words start to settle you and you take another breath in time with Mingi. 

“You’re home, safe in your nest,” Yunho rests his cheek against your hair, “safe with your pack,” 

You manage a nod. 

“We love each other,” He says tenderly, “we’re here to take care of you, of each other,”

Mingi nods, “We won’t let your be in pain,” he adds, “or be alone, we’re here,” 

“Another breath,” Yunho murmurs, taking an exaggerated inhale to model it for you, “in, in,” 

You follow it, until your lungs expand as much as they can. 

“Good,” Yunho says, “out,” 

You let the air go in a controlled exhale, things feeling steady again. 

“Feeling better?” Mingi kisses you. 

“Yeah,” You breathe, “I’m sorry, everything’s just so overwhelming,” 

“It’s okay,” He kisses you again, “that makes sense for a spike,”

“You’re right,” You sigh, logic starting to click in your brain as the panic passes, “definitely a spike.” 

“I wasn’t too rough, was I?” Yunho asks, peppering kisses along your neck and shoulder, referring to the casual way he opened you up on his fingers not even ten minutes ago.

  You shake your head, “Felt so good,” 

Yunho hums warmly. 

You all cuddle close a little longer, and then you pull both of their hands in so you’re all twined together, Mingi and you palm to palm, Yunho’s larger hand closing over both of yours tenderly. 

“I do like this,” You confess, “whatever’s happening here,” 

“Yeah?” Mingi asks, but you notice the blush on his cheeks. 

“Mm,” You sigh, offering a little more quietly, “I used to worry I was going to hurt your friendship,” 

“You did?” Yunho looks down at you. 

“I knew I was in love with you both,” 

They’re quiet, taking in your words. 

“I never wanted to come between you,” You murmur, kissing Mingi’s chest, “but I also knew I couldn’t choose,” 

“Oh, pretty girl,” Yunho softens, his body cradling yours. 

“Having you both, and like this? It’s a dream,” 

Mingi nods and draws you both in tighter with an arm. 

“Listen,” Yunho kisses your shoulder, “I’ve only felt my whole world change twice in my life.” 

His thumb strokes a warm line over you and Mingi’s combined fingers. 

“First was when we met in school,” He says to Mingi, “I just knew we were always going to be in each other’s lives somehow,” 

Mingi nods. 

“The second was when you started at the studio,” Yunho confesses into your hair, “I wanted you the moment I saw you,” 

“Me too,” Mingi murmurs. 

“This pack,” Yunho confesses, “you’re it for me, for as long as I’m breathing.” 

Warmth blooms in your chest. 

“It took us too long to get here, but now that we’re here, I’m not letting you go,” Mingi says softly, “either of you.” 

Shifting in their arms you pull Mingi’s mouth down to yours and kiss him warmly, pouring every ounce of emotion into the kiss before rolling to the side and pulling Yunho in just the same. As you break apart, Mingi reaches across the space between you and kisses Yunho once more, an amused laugh on both their lips as they break apart.

“I like our little pack,” You grin up at them. 

Yunho smiles earnestly, looking more relaxed and content than you’ve ever seen him, and he tugs the covers back up over the three of you, cozying you all in the nesting blankets. 

“Any questions about who’s prime, now?” Mingi grins, nudging Yunho’s side. 

You giggle, but Yunho doesn’t find any words. 

“Yu,” Mingi says affectionately, “you’ve been taking care of me our whole lives, now you’re taking care of your pack, it’s a good thing,” 

Yunho nods, but deflects the attention a little, “Easy to do when we found such a perfect omega,” 

“Please,” You roll your eyes, but your belly flips at his words, the low ache in your gut returning at the sound of your designation. 

“I don’t lie,” Yunho murmurs, a little teasing edge to his voice. 

You hiss softly as Mingi squeezes your hip, feeling your body responding like clockwork. The back to back orgasms gave you a little break, but the heady feeling of your mini heat starts to swim over you again. Your nipples harden against Mingi’s chest where you’re pressed together, and you feel another rush of slick between your thighs. 

“Mm,” You reach for Mingi’s shoulders, “hold me,” 

Mingi lets you press yourself against him, but he chuckles, “We can’t get any closer, babe,” 

“I can think of one way,” Yunho says with an audible smirk, and you feel his hand slide under your thigh to start to part your legs. 

Mingi picks up on the movement, drawing you knee up onto his hip to open yourself up again and you sigh pleasantly into Mingi’s neck. 

“Yeah?” He croons. 

They shift seamlessly on either side of you, adjusting so that their hips are lined up perfectly with yours, and then you feel it, the hot sensation of their cocks just resting on your inner thigh. 

Need thumps inside you and you push your hips down, seeking stimulation. 

“Let me,” Yunho leans back, trying to angle himself, but it leaves a cool gap between your bodies and you whine sharply. 

“Stay!” You reach back for him, frantic. 

“Right here,” He soothes, pressing against you tightly again, “we’re both right here, little omega,” 

Your heart is fluttering in your chest, and your nails grip Mingi’s shoulders, “Please,” 

“Tell us what you want, baby,” Mingi murmurs, hands gentle on your skin. 

You take in a deep breath of them, chocolate and smoke and wet earth, shivering between them, “Just want to feel you,” 

“Feel us where, jagi?” Yunho murmurs. 

“Everywhere,” You confess. 

Keeping you tight between them, they kiss whatever parts of your skin they can reach, and it isn’t long before your stomach tightens again with need. 

Slowly, rock your hips, seeking the friction of them. 

Mingi hums in pleasure, pressing his hips up to nestle his cock against your slick folds. 

You reach behind you with one hand, finding Yunho’s hip and sliding your fingers over his backside, pressing against his skin to communicate what you want so badly. 

He groans as his cock slides up against you too. 

Your hips roll on their own, hungry little juts of your hips to try and feel them, hot and hard and pulsing against the slick heat of your cunt. 

It’s impossible like this to know whose cock is whose, which one of them is dragging along your clit, which one is nudging against your entrance, all you know is that it feels good. 

A cramp pulses in your belly and your movements grind to a halt. 

“Fuck,” Mingi hisses. 

“Inside,” You pant, “knot,” 

They don’t have to discuss it, you feel the shift between your thighs and the way they adjust without leaving you. 

A thick cock spears you open and you gasp sharply, and when Mingi shudders in your arms you know it’s him that’s inside you. 

He thrusts a little, getting himself seated in the perfect spot, and you moan, fingers lacing into his hair. 

“You’re so fucking hot,” Mingi pants, “oh, Jesus,” 

“More,” You grip Yunho’s hip again, “more,” 

“Fuck,” Yunho’s hand rubs a line up your thigh and then he kisses your shoulder, “you want me too?” 

“Inside,” You nod, frantic for it. 

“Alright,” He murmurs, “okay, baby,” 

His fingers dip between your thighs, gathering slick and swiping it over his cock, and then with slow movements he probes to find the right spot. 

It’s slippery though, slick and messy, and his cock catches on the rim of your already stretched channel. 

You gasp sharply, and he pushes in just a little with a nudge of his hips. 

Impossibly, you feel yourself stretch wider. 

“Fuck,” Mingi shakes his head, “wrong hole,” 

Yunho groans, his hips shifting back just enough that you start to lose the stretching sensation, but with it goes the sudden flush of pleasure that it sent up and down your body in a cascading wave. 

You whine, shaking your head, “No, no, don’t go, please, please, that feels so good,” 

The delicious pressure returns, “Baby, are you sure?” 

“Yes,” Your voice is hoarse but clear, your need perfuming in the room. 

“Hold her,” Yunho instructs, and Mingi’s hands grow solid on your back and your thigh. 

“Slow,” Mingi pants, and you realize through the blooming fog of your own want that he can feel this too. 

With deliberate patience, Yunho allows the head of his cock to press inside your cunt, sliding slowly along the back seam of Mingi’s rock hard length like a guide. Your slippery wetness from the heat spike makes the slide easy, but it’s still a snug fit for Mingi’s cock, let alone both of them.

  “How’s that feel?” Yunho checks before he moves another muscle. 

“So fucking good,” You nod, “more, please,” 

“Okay, baby,” Yunho shudders, adjusting his hands so that one is anchored on your waist while his other arm remains a steady cushion under your head, his hand on Mingi’s neck for purchase. 

This time, he thrusts, and you and Mingi both see stars, holding each other and stifling each other’s pleasured sounds in a sudden, heady kiss. 

“Almost there,” Yunho pants, and then he rolls his hips once more, the stretch blooming into something completely new. 

“God, oh my god,” Your head falls back, against Yunho’s shoulder. 

“Doing so good,” Yunho praises you softly, “aren’t you omega?” 

Your cunt clenches hard around both of their cocks and they groan. 

“Taking both of your alphas in that pretty pussy,” Yunho sighs, kissing your head, “aren’t you?” 

“Y-yes,” You sigh, trembling, “oh God, is this real? You’re both inside me?” 

Yunho nods, his cheek brushing against yours. 

“Is it too much?” Mingi checks, his thumb stroking your thigh where he has you held open. 

“No,” You sigh, smiling, “I just feel so full,” 

Yunho hums, pleased, “Good girl,” 

You shiver in their arms and Mingi’s hand slides to travel over your skin, coasting over your hip, your waist where Yunho holds you, over the swell of your breasts and down your stomach. As his hand passes over your abdomen he sucks in a sharp breath, “Holy shit,” 

You blink, lifting your head to meet his eyes. 

“Is that?” Mingi’s fingers ghost over your belly, and then he reaches for Yunho’s hand, dragging it from your waist to your front, tucking it in the small space between your bodies, “Feel,” 

Yunho slides his hand across you, sending goosebumps erupting across your skin. His touch slows though just below your navel, passing back and forth over the slightest distension. 

“Yeah,” Yunho breathes, “fuck,” 

Heat sparks in Mingi’s eyes and he tugs you in to crash his lips to yours, “So perfect,” he pants, “taking us so well,” 

Your core flutters, clenching and relaxing on them again, and Yunho presses down over the spot on your stomach. 

Hot pleasure licks up your spine, a sharp zing from the deepest parts of you straight up through your chest and your lips break from Mingi’s to moan sharply, “Oh f-fuck,” 

“Need to move,” Mingi groans, “please,” 

“Fuck me,” You nod, letting yourself go limp in their arms, “do it, I can take it,” 

They exchange a quick look over you, a silent conversation about how they’re going to manage this, but when they move they move together. 

They start with a little pulse, a slow pull out just a few inches and an even slower push back in. It’s perfect, divine, something you know you’ll be begging for again and again after today is long over. Feeling them like this, it’s unlike any pleasure you’ve ever touched. 

Your bodies move in tandem, a sensual dance just for the three of you. Shallow thrusts, their cockheads nestled together in the deepest parts of your cunt, your body rocking, grinding, acting on pure instinctual bliss. 

When you beg for more, Mingi sinks in deep and locks his hips in place, giving you a firm body to hold onto while Yunho adjusts his position and starts to drive into you with more force and longer strokes. 

Mingi curses at the sensation, his chest blushing pink and eyes hazy, “This feels insane,” 

You nod, moaning and gripping his shoulders. 

“Y-Yunho,” Mingi pants against your lips, “you feel so good,” 

Yunho shudders, his hips stuttering in their pace for just a second as he groans, “Fuck,”

Mingi kisses you deeply, tongue flicking along yours as you hold onto each other, “God, pretty girl, you’re still so tight,” 

You can barely respond, just an incoherent mess of staggered moans. 

Yunho’s hand locks back over your belly, “That’s it,” he pushes his hand down, “let us hear you, baby,” 

Your eyes slam shut tightly, nails digging into your alpha’s shoulders as a pleasured scream rips from your lips, tears pricking at your eyes. 

Yunho groans again, fingers flexing over your abdomen, his palm centered over the place that stretches and contracts with every hot thrust. He keeps pressure there, and drags in a ragged breath, “That’s it,” he moans, “look at you both taking it so good,” 

You and Mingi moan in tandem, your forehead pressed to his. 

Your orgasm rushes to the surface in a surprising wave and you jerk in their tight hold, “Gonna,” you manage, “oh f-fuck,” 

Mingi’s hand tightens on your thigh, his mouth hot on your forehead as you shudder, “Come, just like that,” he begs you, “come for your alphas,” 

“Yes, yes,” You feel it, just in reach, just the edge of pleasure creeping through your body. 

Yunho presses down again over your lower belly, his fingers dangerously close to your clit, and you fall apart, ears ringing and brain snapping in white hot pleasure. 

“Oh, oh,” Mingi moans, scrambling, his hand sliding down Yunho’s sweat slick side as he tries to communicate through his own sudden rush. 

“Knot,” The word slips out of you, “knot, alpha, please, please,” 

The desperation in your voice leaves them both dizzy. 

The rest happens in what feels like a split second to your mind as you ride out the waves of your pleasure. Yunho draws his cock out with a hiss, and Mingi’s arms wrap tight around you, holding you to his chest as he pumps his hips up hard, his knot sliding in and swelling to lock in place. 

You whine at the sudden sensation, at the loss of Yunho, at the blinding extension of your orgasm, and then Yunho moves and all your nerves explode like a live wire. 

With a choke, hands shaking against your body, Yunho’s cock nudges at the tight ring of muscle of your ass and slides home, his cock still dripping well enough with your slick to make the slide smooth. 

You’re a panting mess, words flooding off your tongue you don’t even register except you think you’re begging for more, chanting their names, holding onto them for dear life as another wave of pleasure rises up and crashes down over you. 

Dazed, Mingi grinds his hips up, and you feel the warmth of his release spreading deep inside. 

“Oh, god,” Yunho shudders, losing himself entirely as he pumps his cock hard and fast into your ass, “oh, g-god,” 

All it takes is a second, one perfectly angled thrust, and when Yunho pumps his hips one last time, you feel his knot push in, stretching you to your limit and locking in place. 

Mingi takes in a sharp breath, and your own gasp stretches into a hoarse moan, breath thready and quick in your chest. 

Heat rushes inside you once again, and Yunho drops his lips against your hair as he comes, his body shaking behind yours. 

It takes a moment, all of you utterly boneless and trembling, but Yunho’s soft fingers on your jaw bring you out of your daze, blinking your eyes open. 

“Jagiya,” Yunho says, his voice rough in his chest, “are you alright? Are you in pain?” 

“Mm-mm, ‘m so good,” You shake your head, voice a little slurred.

“Holy shit,” Mingi’s chest shudders, his own breath ragged. 

You swim through the sensations, realizing what you’re feeling, and then your lips spread into a smile, “Did you just knot my ass?” 

“Yeah,” Yunho looks a little sheepish, and he kisses your temple, “I didn’t mean to, it happened so fast,” 

“Mm,” You nod. 

“Babe,” Mingi gets your attention, his eyes soft and concerned, “you with us?” 

You blink again, swallowing and shaking your head to clear some of the fog, “I think so,” 

“How do you feel?” He murmurs. 

“Um,” You search your brain for something, but everything’s still sluggish, “pretty fucking perfect,” 

Mingi lets out a breath, and Yunho drops his head to yours, “Oh, fuck,” 

“We’re doing this again,” You laugh softly, leaning into them, “I think I saw God,” 

Mingi laughs earnestly at that, and you shudder at the way his slight movement jostles everything, pressing their still swollen knots against your tender walls. 

“Ah, fuck,” You grip him, “don’t do that, I’m still sensitive,” 

“It still feels good?” Yunho checks. 

“Too good,” You breathe, softening in their arms, “I don’t know if I can come again though,” 

“You don’t feel warm anymore,” Mingi comments, “the spike’s passed?” 

Despite the normal post orgasm fogginess, you feel clear headed, “Yeah,” 

Yunho kisses your shoulder and exhales warmly against your damp skin, “You did beautifully, sweetheart,” 

His softness, his praise, it all leaves you melting. 

Mingi massages little circles into your hips, “When our knots go down, we’ll get you into a nice warm bath,” 

You nod, smiling up at him. 

“It might take a bit,” Yunho huffs a laugh, careful not to jostle you, “you’re so tight around me, jagi,” 

“And I can feel your knot,” Mingi says. 

Yunho swallows tightly, and his hand slides down behind you, reaching between your legs to satiate his own curiosity. You suck in a sharp breath as his fingertips glide over your skin, the connection of his hips tightly to yours and your slick cunt stretched and sensitive around Mingi’s knot. 

Mingi makes a soft sound as Yunho coasts his fingers around the rim, brushing along your tight skin and Mingi’s still swollen knot where it peeks out of you. 

“You’re so stretched,” Yunho breathes, “this really doesn’t hurt?” 

“Mm-mm,” You shake your head, “omega, remember?” 

“A perfect match for our cocks, hmm?” Yunho smiles, his fingers still exploring. 

Heat blooms in your belly, but you just nod. 

“Next heat,” Yunho nips at your shoulder, “I’m keeping you both locked like this for an entire day,” 

Mingi gasps sharply, and you watch his eyes widen, Yunho’s fingers sliding back to brush over his balls, exploring him slowly. 

“Oh,” Mingi’s hips pulse softly, driving his knot deeper and you both moan, “d-don’t, I’ll come again.” 

“You say that like it’s a bad thing,” Yunho smirks, snaking his other hand out from under your head and tucking it between your bodies, “sweetheart, lean into me, okay?” 

It’s not a question, not really. No matter how soft and gentle Yunho’s tone is, you know a command from your alpha when you hear one, and you lean back into his shoulder so that he can get his hands where he wants them. 

For a second you think it’s a blessing he has such long arms, one hand reaching back behind and under to cup Mingi’s balls, and the other smoothly between your thighs, fingertips pressing down over your tender clit. 

“Grind,” Yunho kisses your shoulder, “use my hand,” 

You shudder, experimentally rocking your hips once, but this position sandwiched between them on your sides is a difficult one, without enough leverage, and it leaves you whining, “I can’t,” 

“Yes, you can,” Yunho nods, “come on, baby,” 

Your eyes connect with Mingi’s and he nods, helping you hook your leg more properly over his hip so you can dig your heel in for leverage, and then he grips the plush curve of your ass and slowly drags you forwards into a grind. 

It’s a collective moan, all three of you sinking into this new feeling together. 

You can’t move much, but it doesn’t matter, little tiny rocks of your hips is enough to grind yourself over Yunho’s fingers and milk Mingi’s knot with your overstimulated cunt, perfect pops of pleasure spreading through you. 

Mingi presses in deep, his knot bumping over your g-spot as Yunho fondles and squeezes him, and in under a minute he’s coaxed a final orgasm out of you both. 

Mingi shudders, another hot rope of his cum bursting inside you, and you tremble into another ecstatic wave, this one softer and more languid than the last. 

“Good,” Yunho croons softly, “oh, feels so good, doesn’t it?” 

All you can do is shiver, whimpering your response, Mingi’s heaving chest bumping against yours with every inhale. 

Yunho’s knot softens first and he gently uncouples your bodies, soothing you gently when you hiss at the sudden loss of him. 

“Shh, shh,” Yunho kisses you shoulder, “I’m not going far, just stay with Mingi, baby,” 

Mingi wraps his arms around you and gingerly rolls onto his back, taking you with him so that you’re perched on his knot and laying across his broad chest. 

Yunho pads out of the room, and Mingi strokes your back with tender care. 

“Mingi?” You murmur into his skin. 

“Yeah?” 

“I love you,” You let your eyes drift shut. 

“I love you too, babe,” He murmurs. 

You drift a little, only coming to when there’s a renewed sound of shuffling feet in the room and Mingi’s knot is soft enough to pull out, holding your hips still as he draws out. 

You groan, eyes fluttering back open. 

You’re messy, dripping and sore, but a warm washcloth passes between your thighs. 

Yunho’s smiling down at you both, a towel slung around his hips though you can tell from his messy hair that he hasn’t showered yet. 

“Hi,” You offer weakly, reaching for him. 

“Hi, baby,” He murmurs. 

You push up on Mingi’s chest, but quickly realize how weak you feel, almost like you ran a marathon, your muscles shaky and your body aching. 

“Okay,” Mingi braces you, “go slow,” 

“Can I,” You nod towards the center of the bed, and they slide you down into your soft nest and onto your back, tucking a blanket around your naked body, “thanks,”

Yunho sinks onto the mattress, passing water bottles to you and Mingi both, “I ordered some lunch too,” he says, “Japanese, some of everything,” 

You melt into the crook of Mingi’s arm and smile, “Perfect,” 

“Is there anything I can,” Yunho starts to say but you shake your head. 

“Just need you close,” You tug his hand, “please come back to bed,” 

He shifts over you, cuddling up on your opposite side, wrapping his arms around you both, “This okay?” 

You nod, and Mingi hums, “It’s nice,” 

“Good,” Yunho pulls the blankets up over the three of you. 

With shaky hands you lift the water bottle and take a long sip of cool water. 

Yunho gently stabilizes your wrist with his hand wrapped around your arm, “You sure you’re alright?” 

“Exhausted,” You confess, letting Mingi take the bottle, “and I can’t feel my legs, but in a good way.” 

Yunho nods. 

Mingi meets your eyes and smiles, “Happy?” 

“Mhm,” You sigh, “I love my nest,” 

“Good,” He smiles. 

“Can we stay in here today?” You yawn, body boneless as you sink into the sheets. 

“Whatever you want,” Mingi nods, “it’s Saturday,” 

You smile, relaxing against them. 

It’s quiet for a bit, but then you yawn again, “You think I’ll spike again?” 

“Probably not,” Mingi replies, “unless you have to see Woo again,” 

You blink your eyes open, “Do you think he’s okay?” 

Yunho nods, “San and Seonghwa are taking good care of him, I’m sure,” 

“And Yeosang seemed good for him,” Mingi offers, “I like him.” 

“Everything seemed okay when he met the guys?” Yunho asks. 

“Mm,” You find his hand, playing with his fingers as you think back, “it was intense, it was like the air was thick,” 

“Hmm,” Yunho nuzzles you, “sounds like your first heat here,” 

“Yeah,” 

“That was intense,” Mingi smiles. 

Your boys keep you tucked in the nest, soothing you through the rest of the day after your sudden spike, but your mind drifts back to your best friend again and again. 

San’s stunned face, Yeosang’s shocked expression. 

Seonghwa’s stumbled words, the way he followed San and Yeosang down the hall like he was being pulled along, the door swinging shut in your face. 

You wonder if Wooyoung was just as curious about you when you disappeared for your heat all those months ago. 

You wonder what kind of new normal would be waiting at the studio for you this time. 

Those thoughts eventually drift though, your own alphas fussing over you for the rest of the weekend. Over the two days you christen the nest another three times, marrying your scents together exactly the way they’re meant to me. 

After weeks of transition, their home is finally yours.

[inkdrippeddreams]

In Your Corner 3

Pairing: Adonis Creed x Black Journalist OC

Word count: 5.9K (hot DAYUM)

Warnings: dry humping/ grinding, heavy making out, petting?? other than that just fluff and Donnie being a charm warning

Summary: Athena hadn't seen Adonis since their interview, but their flirty daily texts, late-night FaceTime calls, and a surprise for her made it clear he was serious about pursuing her, but Athena isn't sure she believes it. Torn between her growing feelings and letting him pursue her, Athena agrees to a private dinner at her place. When Adonis shows up wearing his heart on his sleeve and dancing with her in the kitchen, Athena thinks it might be more than just a small crush.

Notes: song that inspired this chapter: There Is Something on Your Mind- Big Jay McNeely. Guys I tried, I hope you enjoy part 3, this has turned into a series and IDK if I'm going to continue it as a series or just turn it into a bunch of drabbles. I also will be making a masterlist soon! As always, tell me if you want to be tagged in part 4 (hopefully there will be one, work has been smth serious) I'd love feedback and support <3 Enjoy!!! Song for the chapter

Part One, Part Two

************************************************************************

It had been almost two weeks since the interview with Adonis Creed, and Athena hadn’t seen him since. But that didn’t mean he hadn’t made himself known. What started as a simple “You make it home okay?” had snowballed into a string of increasingly warm, and increasingly flirty messages.

“Good morning, pretty girl.” “Sleep tight, mama.” “Can I call you when I wake up?”

She hadn’t meant to look forward to them, but her heart still did a little leap every time her phone lit up.

This… whatever it was… didn’t make much sense. But it felt like a friendship, a real one. Something Athena hadn’t had much of back home. Or even in L.A., if she was being honest. Still, this thing with Adonis didn’t feel like just friendship. Not when his “good morning” texts made her smile like an idiot in the mirror, or when she’d spend half her lunch break teasing him on FaceTime about his obsessive ranking of ‘90s action movies.

The calls became routine, her curled up on the couch after work, clothes from the day still clinging to her skin haphazardly, curls escaping the updo she had to wake up 3 hours before work just to do perfectly,  him sprawled across his bed or parked in his car outside the gym. He told her all the ridiculous drama that went down in the gym,complete with impressions, her favorite was the one of Duke, where Donnie’s voice would drop 2 octaves, but he’d always circle back to ask about her day, her article, her take on whatever random movie he’d just seen.

She never turned on her camera, but that didn’t stop him. Oh no. Adonis stayed front and center. One night he leaned back on his couch in a hoodie and beanie, the next he was fresh from training, glistening with sweat in a wife beater, muscles flexing as he reached for a water bottle. Athena had stared so long when she answered the phone that she almost let her dinner burn, cursing at herself and the stove while he laughed, oblivious to what was unfolding.

Even today, the first thing she saw when she woke up was: “Have a good day at work, mama.”

She’d been staring at the message the entire walk to her office, typing and retyping a reply, deleting it before she could send anything that sounded too eager. She was still fussing with it in the elevator when,

“Thena! Good morning!” Of course. Sherri.

“Hi Sherri,” Athena mumbled, barely lifting her eyes from her phone.

“Christian said he liked the interview, but he’ll follow up about the release tomorrow. Oh! I had something else to tell you. What was it again? My mom always said I’d forget my head if it wasn’t attached—”

Athena half-listened as they walked through the office, finally settling on a simple: “Morning Donnie. Have a good day.” No emoji. No exclamation mark. Casual.

Sherri was still chattering behind her when they turned the corner to Athena’s office.

“—I swear I don’t know how Christian expects me to remember everything for him. But he keeps me around. Oh! That’s it! Some guy came by super early this morning with something for you.”

Athena opened her door—and stopped.

Her breath hitched.

Sitting on her desk was the largest bouquet she had ever seen. Deep red roses peeking out between lush white and golden blooms. She stepped closer, fingers brushing against the petals. Cherokee roses.

Her chest tightened. Her home state’s flower. Georgia.

“That’s what it was!” Sherri squealed, practically bouncing behind her. “Flowers! Someone brought you flowers!”

“Who?” Athena whispered, eyes still fixed on the bouquet.

“ Oh, he gave me a name… Come on Sheridan. Oh! I remember. Delivery guy said they were from someone named… ‘Donnie’ It could have been Ronnie too, I’m not entirely sure.”

A jolt ran through her.

“There’s a card too,” Sherri chirped, rushing to grab it from a drawer. “I didn’t want Christian snooping—figured it might be personal. Or romantic.” She winked and handed Athena the envelope.

Athena opened it with shaking fingers.

To the Georgia Peach, Thank you for such an amazing interview. I can’t wait to read the article, I already know it’s fire. I’ve read everything else you’ve written. You’re a breath of fresh air for me. So here’s a little breath of fresh air from home. Breathe easy,

~ Donnie

“Oh,” Athena breathed, heart doing somersaults.

“What’s it say?” Sherri pressed. “Don’t leave me hanging.”

“It’s nothing,” Athena lied—badly. “Just someone thanking me.”

Sherri narrowed her eyes, unconvinced, but backed off. “Alright, alright. I’ll leave you to your secret admirer.” She shot Athena a smirk and disappeared.

Alone now, Athena dropped into her chair, still stunned, the scent of the roses filling the room. She picked up her phone and typed quickly:

| Cherokee roses? Sent 9:42 AM

A second later: | wanted you to get a glimpse of home, plus I figured out what the state flower was. I hope you like them, pretty girl.

Her smile bloomed so fast it made her cheeks ache. That pet name again.

| I love them, Donnie, thank you. The note was beautiful too. How did you even get Cherokee roses to L.A.? they’re usually crazy expensive Read 9:46 AM

| Called in a favor with my ma’s gardener. Training for my next match is gonna include digging flower beds now but if it puts a smile on your face, i’ll do it...

Her fingers hovered before replying.

| Donnie you didn’t have to Read 9:48 AM

| But I wanted to. I still want to take you out, Athena.

Athena nearly dropped her phone.

He wasn’t playing.

Whatever she thought this was—casual texts, sweet calls, harmless attention—it wasn’t casual to him. Adonis Creed wanted her. Wanted to know her. Wanted her. And suddenly, that didn’t feel so impossible anymore, but this was thin ice for her. Christian had already been on her ass about the article, and if she went out with Donnie and something broke in the press, especially before the article even broke, she was up shits creek.

| Donnie, I don’t know if that’s a good idea.

Read 9:51 AM

Adonis read the message quickly, but he wasn’t responding in the text thread. Athena sighed about to place her phone down when it began vibrating with a Facetime call from Adonis. She let it ring for a moment so she didn’t seem too desperate to answer. When she finally did she was met with Adonis’ face directly in the camera. He was laid back on his gray couch with a brown hoodie on, face moisturized and beard full. His phone rested on his lower stomach, pointing towards his upper body. 

“Hello Adonis,” Athena wheezed at how fine he looked, pointing her camera at the ceiling.

“Uh uh, girl. Prop that phone up somewhere, I gotta talk to you,” Adonis lifted his hand up and shook it in the camera, his eyes and voice low with sleep.

“Adonis, I do have a job to do.”

“You didn’t when you were texting me back,” he teased, playfully showing his dimple.

“I was thanking you for the flowers, that’s it Donnie,”  She said, powering up her computer, making herself seem busy.

“Prop the phone up, so I can see you, mama.”

She was almost sure she stopped breathing at that moment, her mouth dry as hell and she tried to gather herself. But she listened, propping the phone up against her office computer. Adonis smiled at her, his arm now resting behind his head. 

“Thank you pretty girl.” Athena rolled her eyes at him, typing aimlessly on her computer.

“Now,” Adonis cleared his throat, “why is it a bad idea to go out with me?”

“Adonis,” Athena sighed, “If something breaks before the interview, which drops in 2 days, Christian will have my ass. You’re a celebrity, regardless and Christian wants to be able to control everything the outside media gets. We’re dropping that we got an exclusive with you tomorrow, he doesn’t even know we’re still talking and I really don’t care to deal with him right now.”

“As much as I want to say, ‘who cares?’ I get it. But I still can see you, Athena. How about you come to my apartment or I’ll come to yours, I can cook, and we’ll watch a movie or something?” Adonis was practically begging now. Athena was weary, she was nervous about these feelings she was having for Adonis, even more nervous about what it would change in her career, but she owed it to herself to let someone in besides the one man she had dated years ago.

“Okay, Donnie,” she breathed, “But I'd be more comfortable if you came to my apartment, instead.”

Adonis grinned and licked his lips, “That’s okay with me beautiful. I’ll pick some stuff up and do the cooking. Do you have wine?”

“I mean I do. But I buy the cheap pink Moscato from the grocery store, so if you want something better, you might need to pick yourself up a bottle,” Athena laughed.

“We’ll drink Moscato, pretty girl. What do you want me to cook? I can make a mean alfredo,” responded, giving a laugh of his own. 

“Alfredo is fine, Donnie,” Athena surprised her sigh of contentment, as Donnie smiled at her.

“Okay, baby girl. Call me when you go to lunch.” Athena rolled her eyes and grabbed her phone mumbling a ‘good bye Donnie,’ as she hung up the phone. Athena did not get a moment of peace before her office door swung wide open, Sherri barreling through, almost tripping on her own heels.

“Was that him?” Sherri exclaimed.

“Who?” Athena swallowed.

“The guy that sent the flowers, Athena! Don’t hold out on me! I swear I won’t tell anyone.”

“Sherri, keep your voice down,” she gritted in response, “if you must know, Adonis Creed sent these. We’ve been talking since the interview, but you cannot say anything to Christian.” Sherri squealed at Athena.

“Athena oh my gosh he’s so fine, girl, how did that happen?” She plopped down into one of the chairs across from Athena.

“We ate lunch together during his interview, he was insistent that we talked about things other than him. He’s a huge flirt and he kept complimenting me and basically was just being charismatic. He asked for my number so he could check when I made it home, then he just kept texting me, tonight he’s coming over to cook dinner because he wants to see me again,” Athena heaved, her words jumbling. Sherri listened intently, a wide grin stretching across her tawny shaded cheeks as Athena spoke.

“Girl, if you don’t get on that Athena!” Athena hushed her in response.

“Keep your voice down Sherri! Christian can’t know.”

“Wait,” Sherri waved Athena off as she leaned back in the chair, “why is it a big deal if you get to know Adonis? Why can’t Christian find out?”

Athena sighed, “This is an exclusive, right after his biggest fight, Christian wants us to be quiet about it because we’re the only interview he’s given like this besides the press run at the end of the fight. Christian had to pull some serious strings to get this and that’s why he was so pissed about the article. Plus Donnie is still a celebrity and that’s paparazzi and I don’t want Christian to think that I'm unprofessional. This is one of the biggest articles I’ve ever done Sherri. If I start dating a guy that I interviewed, imagine what I’d look like, people would hate me.”

Sherri giggled and rubbed her forehead, “Athena, respectively, that’s such a bullshit answer.” Athena shook her head in surprise at the bluntness. “I doubt Christian would give a fuck, ‘scuse my language. The guy likes you. I understand where you’re coming from but that doesn’t make you seem unprofessional, the guy just liked you so he asked you out, period. Love you down girly pop, but you’re just scared and that’s okay. All Christian really cares about is just a good article, and you got it for him, he likes what you’ve written. Yes, he might be a bit weirded out but I don’t think he’s gonna think that you’re hooking up with every celebrity we’ve interviewed. Even if he did Thena, the man can’t afford to lose you, that threatening he did the other day was such bull. He got back to his office and immediately freaked out about not wanting to let you go.”

Athena gaped at Sherri as she ranted. 

“What did Donnie, as you call him, say when you explained this to him, Athena?” Sherri crossed her arms, lifting her eyebrow, beckoning Athena for a response.

“He said that he would just cook for us if I didn’t want to go in public but he still wanted to see me. So he’s coming over tonight and making pasta.”

Sherri grabbed her chest and gritted her teeth at Athena, “Girl! Get on that man right now! And if you don’t, I will! Athena you’re about to let Adonis Creed slip through your fingers because you’re too scared to like him? Athena- Renee, you are insane! The guy likes you dummy.”

Athena rolled her eyes before she opened her mouth to respond to her. Before she could, her office door swung open Christian entering.

“Does anyone here knock, Lord?” She mumbled, slipping back into her chair.

“Funny, Athena,” Christians voice boomed through the office, “Sheridan, I need you to come with me to a meeting in 10, I don’t need you in here slacking.”

“Yes, sir,” Sherri stood, brushing her skirt and balling her lips at Athena, wordlessly telling her to go through with Adonis.

“By the way, Athena, I enjoyed the article, it was great. Keep up the good work,” Christian held the door open for Sherri as she walked through, “Come on, beautiful,” he spoke to Sherri and she had the nerve to blush. Athena furrowed her eyebrows and jutted her head outwards. Since when did Christian and Sherri flirt? Sherri turned and looked towards Athena’s office as she walked off, sticking her tongue out at Athena. She sat there for a moment. Since when did Christian call her Sheridan? No one did besides her mother. Also, when did Sherri have enough time to get to know Christian to the point that he confided in her about being scared to fire Athena? She was gagged, she picked up her pen and began clicking it while she stared at her desktop. She needed to have a long conversation with Sherri, and soon.

“What the actual fuck?” she breathed.

******************************************************************************

When Athena got home from work, the first thing she did was deep-clean the entire apartment, after she put her delicate Cherokee Roses on display in her favorite vase, of course. She had about an hour before Donnie would show up, so she watered her plants, cleaned her bathroom, vacuumed and dusted everything she could, she even lit her good Bath and Body Works 3-wick Vanilla bean candle. After she was done cleaning she showered and put on a beige 2-piece loungewear set that hugged her gracious hips, just so she didn’t have to sit in her work clothes while Adonis was there. The tension headache from her curly bun was too much for her to handle so she let the bun down, having to fluff it out because of the stiff state. Athena walked into her living room and sat down on her plush sofa but before she could get comfortable, her door buzzed. She huffed, as she stood and walked to the door, pressing her buzzer.

“Yes?” She hummed into the buzzer.

“Hi, Ms Athena, I got a ‘Donnie’, here to see you. Send him up?” The voice of her doorman, Tony filled the room. Athena swallowed and pressed the buzzer again.

“You can send him up Tony,” She sounded.

A crackling noise filled the buzzer before Tony’s voice spoke again, “Sure thing, Princess.”

*************************************************************************

Not even five minutes later, a knock landed on her door—three quick taps, almost like he was teasing her with his own rhythm. Athena took her time answering, trying not to seem too eager, even though her pulse was thumping like it knew exactly who was on the other side.

She opened the door to find Adonis standing there, arms full with three Trader Joe’s bags that looked like they were cutting his biceps. He was in a matching grey sweatsuit, the hoodie hood still up, and his feet, Lord help her, were in slides with long white socks.

Athena bit back a giggle. “You couldn’t commit to shoes?”

He grinned, eyes trailing over her slowly, deliberately. “You judging my socks when you answer the door looking like that?”

Her oversized tee had slipped slightly off one shoulder, and the soft  pants she wore did nothing to hide the curve of her hips. She folded her arms across her chest, pretending not to notice the way his gaze lingered low before traveling, almost reluctantly, back up to her face.

“You coming in or are you gonna keep standing there letting the bags cut off your circulation?” she teased, stepping aside.

He walked past her, brushing shoulders as he did. “Hard not to stare. You make this whole hallway look good.” He slipped his sandals off neatly at the door.

Athena closed the door a little harder than necessary just to keep from blushing.

“This place is beautiful, pretty girl. It’s really nicely decorated, screams you,” he said, already glancing around at the cozy earth aesthetic of the apartment, his eyes landed on the Cherokee rose bouquet decorating one side of her kitchen island, a glint hit his eyes “ I’m glad you liked the roses baby girl, Where should I put these?”

She pointed toward the kitchen with a soft hum blushing. “Thanks, Adonis.”

That grin again, the one that showed his dimple and made her stomach flip. He walked to the kitchen, hoodie stretched across his back and shoulders in a way that had no business being so distracting. Athena followed, eyes locked on the fabric clinging to his arms.

As he set the bags down, she moved to help, reaching into one just before his hand shot out and swatted her hand gently away.

“Uh uh. Nope,” he said, shaking his head with a smirk.

Athena narrowed her eyes. “I can help—”

“Girl, I came here to cook for you,” he said, stepping closer and grabbing her hands before she could argue again. His touch was warm and easy, his thumbs brushed lightly over her knuckles. “Now don’t mess up my plan. C’mon.”

He led her around the counter to the cushioned green bar stools, his fingers still wrapped around hers. “These look cozy. Sit,” he said as he pulled the chair out for her.

She arched an eyebrow as she took her time to slide into the seat, but he waited, patient and still holding her eyes. Once she was settled, he leaned down and, without warning, pressed a kiss to her cheek, his lips soft and lingering just long enough to make her breath hitch.

Athena blinked as he pulled away like it was nothing, already turning back to unpack the groceries. Athena was sure you’d be able to see her heartbeat in her chest.

“I didn’t know which one you’d prefer, so I bought chicken and shrimp. Your choice, or I can add both,” he said as he finished taking everything out of the bags, voice casual but with a little extra warmth to it. He made his way around the kitchen, rolling up his sleeves before washing his hands.

Athena smiled slowly, her gaze following every move he made, “Chicken will be fine, Donnie.”

“Alright, baby girl,” he turned and smiled at her, his eyes sparkling, “point me to your seasoning cabinet, and where your pans are.”

Athena bit the inside of her cheek to stop herself from smiling, “Pots and pans are in the bottom cabinet, left of the stove. Seasoning is right above it. Also, Adonis?” She prodded when she looked at the bags he had placed on the ground next to her trash can. He hummed his response, as he moved to the cabinets taking what he needed. 

“Since when did you shop at Trader Joe’s?” she grinned. Adonis stood and glanced over his shoulder.

“I’m a boxer, and Publix groceries are too expensive for me to buy every week for my meal prep. Plus, their food is good and fresh,” he shrugged, moving back to the counter to be face-to-face with Athena, now leaning over the counter. 

Athena squinted as she studied his face, “ your hair has grown too; beard coming in.”

Adonis scoffed playfully, “My hair always gets a little unruly when I’m training for a fight.” Adonis turned and began to wash the chicken. He placed it on the cutting board, washed his hands and began cutting it into smaller chunks.

“Another fight? It’s barely been a month since your last one.”

“Oh so you’ve been paying attention?” He cut the chicken, glancing up at her with a smile on his face. She shook her head and rolled her eyes as she spoke her reply.

“I just interviewed you, I kind of had to study your life.”

Adonis pressed his lips into a thin smile and nodded his head.

“Yeah, I have another fight but it’s not for another 8 weeks. It’s not a huge one either. Duke told me to go ahead and do it, just so I had an excuse for my title to not be challenged for a while after that, so I could take more time to heal.” She nodded her understanding as she watched him move through her kitchen, seasoning the chicken and placing it in a saucepan before bringing a pot of water to a boil. A pregnant, yet comfortable silence fell over the two of them.

“Baby girl?” Adonis tossed over his shoulder a minute later. Athena hummed. “You keep staring a hole in my back, I might catch fire.” 

The embarrassment that filled her chest was something fierce. She hadn’t even noticed that she was staring. She mumbled a quick apology, one that he waved off.

“Don’t apologize, pretty girl, I stare at you all the time, surprised you haven’t burned the whole building down. I like your hair like this by the way,” Her cheeks heated in response.

“Do you have a speaker?” He spoke again. “Nah, I actually just have a record player,” Athena pointed to the stand next to her window facing the LA skyline. 

“Record player? Oh you old school,” Adonis chortled.

“It was my Grandma’s housewarming gift when I moved to Atlanta. I used to love going to her house during the summer, she’d be cleaning with the records playing something from the 60s. Summertime in Georgia means the screen door would be open, because the A/C hardly worked,  so I’d go outside and just twirl around on her porch pretending my husband was dancing with me at our wedding or something. Granny had Bradford pear trees in her yard so these little white blooms would fly up, like I was actually at my wedding. Smelled so bad when she would make me sweep em’ off the porch though,” Athena’s accent slipped out as she recalled her childhood summers in Georgia. She didn’t like talking much about her life growing up, but anytime she could talk about being around her Granny, she would in a heartbeat. Adonis smiled at her, studying the way her face lit as she spoke about her grandmother. Something about it made his lower stomach hot, and the more he spent time with her, the more enamored he became.

“What records do you listen to?” 

“Mostly the ones from the 60s that my Granny gave me when her record player stopped working. But I also have Lauryn Hill and an Erykah Badu Vinyl.” She said.

“Can I choose one?” He asked, rounding the corner. She nodded, “Help yourself.” Adonis went through the basket full of Vinyls before he slid his hand over one with a blue cover. He grabbed it and slid the vinyl out carefully and placed it on the record player before pressing play. The record player whirled to life, coughing a mechanical whir as it did so. Athena swiveled in her chair to face Donnie as he read the back of the album casing.

There is something on your mind,

By the way you look at me

A strange feeling washed over Athena as she realized what song was playing. He had unironically chosen the album that her Granny used to play that she would dance to. Big Jay McNeely, specifically his song titled There is Something on Your Mind. She looked up at Adonis as he held his hands outstretched towards her.

“This isn’t your wedding,” he shared, “But, dance with me?” 

There is something on your mind, 

pretty baby, by the way you look at me

Athena stood and grabbed Adonis’ hands which he trailed up to wrap around his neck before he dropped her hands to her lower waist as he pushed her lower torso into his. They moved through the living room dancing as the lyrics filled the space.  Athena couldn’t; wouldn’t meet Donnie’s eyes, which were staring down at her, intensely. She decided to just turn her head away from his.

Can what you're thinking bring happiness, or will it bring misery

No, no, please don't try to tell me, 'cause I may not understand

Adonis tried to will her eyes up at his face, but instead he just closed his eyes and turned his head to the side, pressing it into the side of her head.

No, no, you don't have to tell me, pretty baby, 'cause I may not understand

You want me to try and forget you, but I'll do the best I can

They rocked back and forth to the music as the sound of the trumpet filled the room.

If you ever think about me, if I ever cross your mind

Adonis twirled Athena out, surprising her and making her let out a surprised laugh. He pulled her back into his chest before rocking her back and forth. She looked up and met his gaze, a sheepish smile on her face.

“This was the song my Granny used to play on the record,” she smiled.

He looked down at her before letting out a soft hum at her revelation. His eyes got lost in hers for a moment. Before Athena knew it, Donnie’s lips were slotting over her own, like a puzzle piece that was finally returned to its rightful place. Her eyes fluttered closed. The kiss was soft and warm, and ignited goosebumps on both of their skins. Donnie’s hands traveled lower, finding the small of her back and pulling her impossibly close to him as the kiss continued. The kiss was measured, and while slow was so intense, like Adonis was finally saying to Athena what he had wanted to for the two weeks she had known him, and she was reciprocating it. The buzz that Athena felt was only the one that she would get from that cheap store bought wine she bought. They moved together, Athena’s hand landed on his face holding his jaw as the kiss picked up in heat, which was filling her lower abdomen quickly. In a moment of needed breath, she broke the kiss, his head fell into her neck.

A burning smell filled her nostrils.

“Adonis….” she started.

“Hmm?” 

“Did you just burn the chicken?”

******************************************************************************

When Adonis had gotten done cooking the shrimp since he decided to leave the chicken in the saucepan for too long and charred it, the two ate in mostly silence, Athena with her Moscato and Adonis with a simple water. Neither of the two knew what to say about the kiss, just that they liked it really. The food was amazing, but Athena couldn’t gush about it with the way the awkwardness felt in the room, so she just settled for a “foods really good Donnie,” and continued to eat quietly.

After dinner, Athena cleared the table while Adonis insisted on cleaning the kitchen, rolling up his sleeves and promising to wash every dish before he left. She didn’t argue, mostly because she couldn’t stop replaying the way he’d looked at her while they danced in the kitchen, like she was the only thing in the room that mattered, like she meant something more than what she had always thought of herself to be.

She had just sunk into her usual spot on the couch, curling into the corner, turning on the Tv to a random show, when Adonis walked in, drying his hands on a towel before tossing it over the armrest. He sat down beside her, closer than usual. His knee brushed against hers, and neither of them moved away.

“We gone talk about it?” he said suddenly, his voice low and serious.

Athena blinked, surprised. “Talk about what?” She was hoping he’d make the rejection quick so she could move on with her life. Drop the article and pretend that Adonis is no longer.

He licked his lips slowly, staring ahead, then turned his body toward her, his dimple out, but his expression was anything but playful.

“The kiss, Athena.”

She looked away, heart racing. “What about it, Adonis?”

He let out a breath, frustrated but soft, like he’d been holding this in for too long. “Everything about it. You act like it didn’t mean anything, but I know you felt it. I know you did. I heard the way your heart was beating when I was holding you while we danced. That kiss wasn’t just some moment. That was me laying it out there. I’ve been trying to show you how I feel, in every way I know how. And I can’t keep pretending I don’t want more than just your number in my phone or your voice on FaceTime.”

Athena opened her mouth to speak, but he wasn’t done.

“I’m not done, Athena,” her mouth clamped shut, “I like you, Athena. More than I probably should already. And I kissed you because I couldn’t help it. You make me lose focus in a way that’s scary as hell but so damn good. And you… you just froze. You didn’t say anything. You ran.”

He leaned in, his hand brushing against hers as he searched her face.

“You’re awkward, and guarded, and complicated as hell, and I swear to God, I find it all so damn attractive. You drive me crazy. But I want to know you, like really know you. Listen to you for hours talk about your childhood in the country, dancing on your Granny’s porch, but you have to let me. So yeah, let’s talk about the kiss. Tell me you felt it too. Tell me I’m not out here falling for you alone.”

His voice dropped to almost a whisper.

“Please.”

And in that moment, with the way he was looking at her, like she held every answer he’d ever needed, Athena felt the wall she’d been hiding behind begin to crack. Her breath caught. The fire in his eyes was too warm to ignore. Too real.

She couldn’t hold herself back anymore.

Athena was on him in a second, this time the kiss was rushed and hot, painfully so. Adonis’ tongue prodded into her mouth as they continued, hot and heavy. They battled for dominance in the kiss, it was only when Adonis sucked her bottom lip into his mouth that she whimpered, which made him grow painfully hard in his sweats. He let out his own groan of approval as she sought his mouth out further, climbing onto him so she was straddling him. They continued this battle for dominance until Donnie’s hand slid down to one of her butt cheeks, while the other hand came up to grip the back of her head through the mane of curled ringlets to push her head closer to his own. He leaned back into the couch, melting into the pillow, Athena chasing his lips as he did so. He groaned low and deep in his chest, the noise making Athena gasp.

This wasn’t like Athena. if she was describing herself, blunt, yes, hard headed, yes, spontaneous, sometimes, but willing to hook up with a guy she met two weeks ago, who happened to be obsessed with her and a celebrity? Hell no. She did have to admit though, she was insanely attracted to Adonis, She hummed as she began to rock her hips into his in order to feel closer to him, in order to get some sort of friction going. Adonis let out a noise, and it wasn’t a whimper this time, it was a full on moan, which only made her grind herself harder, arousal now pooling itself in the seat of her panties. 

Donnie pushed her hips down further to continue to rock against his as he damn near inspected her entire mouth with his tongue, only breaking the kiss to place wet kisses on her neck down to her exposed chest, where her shirt had slipped off of her shoulder. He hit a point that made her back arch, and he started to suck. It was only when she did the same to him and it sent another rush of blood south that he stopped, realizing that they were moving way too fast, and that she meant a lot more to him than a quick fuck on her couch while a random record played in the background. He began grabbing at her hips to stop her slow grinding, as good as it did feel.

“Athena, baby, stop.” He announced breathily. She was in her own world, mouthing aggressively against his neck. He held back another moan, “Athena.” She only hummed in response as she stopped kissing, breathlessly hiding her face in Donnie’s neck in shame. They both sat there for a moment to catch their breath. Athena swallowed before speaking.

“I’m sorry.”

Adonis pulled her head away from his neck gently and studied her face. Her cheeks were red with warmth and her eyes were shiny and wide as if she was on the brink of crying. Her  dark curly hair that flowed past her shoulders was disheveled  with the way his fingers had run through it only moments ago, and yet the tight curls  still framed her face. Still Adonis thought she was the most beautiful woman he had ever seen. Her shirt, falling off of her shoulder and wrinkled, hugged her heaving chest. He searched her face.

“Apologizing is something you do when you are wrong. And nothing about what we just did was wrong, Athena,” he cupped her jaw, “When I confessed that I wanted you I meant it, and as much as I want to ruin you in this moment and make you forget everything else but my name, you deserve a foundation. That’s what I’ll give you first. This can wait until we’re both ready.” His voice lowered and so did his eyes to her lips. He licked his own as he stared. Heat blossomed in her chest at his words.

He leaned in and kissed her slowly but passionately, jaw still gripped into his palm. He leaned back out of the kiss, tugging her lip before letting it go. He smiled up at her, her eyes now low with passion and heart racing again. 

“I like your hair like this, pretty girl.” He spoke, letting the compliment hang in the air, “Get cleaned up and I’ll pick a movie okay?” Athena nodded as she slid out of his lap and started towards her bathroom. She looked at Adonis over her shoulder, who was smiling at her, his dimple ever so present and his eyes soft with something she hadn’t experienced until tonight.

*********************************************************************

As always LMK if you want to tagged pretty people🤍 Hope you guys enjoyed! Love, Peace, and Hair Grease <3

Taglist: @jazziejax @5starsativa @foxybrownsugababe @thickemadame @venusesworld @yornayyy @daughterofapollo-7 @wettbaby

[justarkive]

THE JEONS : 05

05 : Pork Belly

summary: a collection of chaotic family drabbles. thats it.

contents: family!au, non.idol jungkook, girl!dad jk, fluff, angst, sensitive topics sometimes!

• chapter contents: literally just family fluff. jungkook tries to make pork belly for his little girl and hana DOES NOT WANT IT, bjr shes also lowkey fighting for her life to stay awake, cause when is she not??

• a/n: for the baby police in my asks : yes i know that 1 month olds indeed cannot eat anything apart from milk and my mistake for thinking they could while i wrote this so pls just pretend she is not one month old while reading this.

• taglist: @jenniebyrubies @lovingkoalaface @iamstilljk @elinaki92 @rpwprpwprpwprw @mafersame @parkinglot-nights (cmnt to be added)

masterlist , series masterlist

You should’ve known better. You really should’ve.

Jungkook on dinner duty is already a red flag, but you were tired, and he looked so confident, so you let him do his thing. Big mistake. Not because he doesn’t cook good - that man cooks really fucking good - but because he’s not so good with… baby friendly dishes.

Hana has just been rudely awakened from her nap, and she’s fighting for her life to stay awake, her tiny body swaying slightly in your arms as you carry her to the kitchen. She’s hungry, she’s sleepy, and most importantly—she’s expecting fine gourmet dining.

Which, in her world, translates to mashed potatoes, baby food, or literally anything that doesn’t require molars.

Instead, she’s greeted with the sight of Jungkook happily plating pork belly and rice.

You pause.

Hana blinks.

“…Pork belly?” you say slowly, watching as Jungkook—completely unfazed—takes a seat at the table.

“Yeah.” He picks up a slab, cuts a generous piece, and plops it directly onto Hana’s high chair tray.

Silence.

Absolute, deafening silence.

You stare at the greasy chunk of meat sitting in front of your six-month-old daughter.

Hana, still half-asleep, just sits there, blinking at the pork belly with the type of slow realization that looks like pure betrayal.

She thought she was about to be fed properly.

She thought she was about to be respected.

She thought she was about to be nourished.

Instead… this.

Jungkook, completely unaware of the culinary crime he has just committed, happily starts eating, stuffing his face like nothing is wrong. Meanwhile, Hana pokes the pork belly once, making a confused little noise.

“Bubububu.”

You, still staring in silence, wait for Jungkook to realize his mistake.

He does not.

Instead, Hana picks up the entire slab of pork belly, her tiny fingers barely able to grip it, the greasy surface slipping in her hand.

She is devastated.

You can see the tears forming.

Her face screams betrayal.

She turns to Jungkook as if to say, “You—my own flesh and blood—have done this to me?”

Jungkook finally looks up, eyes widening. “Baby, no—like this!” He hurriedly picks up his own piece and starts demonstrating, chewing dramatically, as if this is a learning experience instead of a complete disaster.

Hana’s bottom lip wobbles.

You immediately swoop in, lifting her from the high chair and cradling her against your chest. “Shhh baby-,” you whisper, rubbing her back as she lets out the tiniest, saddest whimper.

Then, you turn to Jungkook.

“Seriously? Pork belly? For a six-month-old?”

Jungkook, still eating, frowns at you. “I thought she’d like it.”

“You thought she’d like it?”

“She’s gotta start eating real food sometime.”

“She’s six months old.”

“She’s advanced.”

Hana, still sniffling, buries her face into your shoulder.

You sigh, pressing a kiss to her head before shooting Jungkook a look. “Next time, start with mashed potatoes before trying to serve our baby a whole-ass Korean BBQ platter.”

Jungkook pouts, glancing at Hana, who is now fully ignoring him.

“…She’s gonna hold this against me forever, isn’t she?”

“Yes,” you say immediately.

And judging by the way Hana is glaring over your shoulder, you’re pretty sure she agrees.

Jungkook’s entire world is falling apart.

His tiny, precious daughter, who usually adores him, is now ignoring him—all because he made the grave mistake of serving her pork belly.

“Baby,” he says softly, leaning in closer, eyebrows knitted in distress. “I’m sorry. Don’t be mad at Dada.”

Hana’s bottom lip wobbles.

She lets out a tiny, pitiful “Hmmph.”

Your heart melts at the sound, but Jungkook looks physically pained.

“Baby, please,” he pleads, reaching out to rub her tiny back. “I made a mistake. Dada is dumb.”

Hana sniffles dramatically.

You watch as she tilts her head just enough to peek at him, still glaring, but a little less now that Jungkook is using his softest, sweetest voice.

Taking advantage of her hesitation, Jungkook presses kisses all over her chubby little cheeks, each one coming with an exaggerated “mwah!”

“Dada loves you,” he coos. “Dada is so, so sorry. Next time, Dada will make mashed potatoes. Or rice. Or whatever you want, okay? You’re the boss.”

Hana squirms, still grumpy, but the way she grabs a fistful of his shirt is a clear sign she’s relenting.

You sigh, shaking your head with a fond smile. “You really thought pork belly was a good idea, huh?”

Jungkook pouts, looking genuinely ashamed. “She’s my daughter. I thought she’d appreciate good food.”

Hana lets out a tiny, tired huff.

Then—without warning—she leans forward and rests her face against his chest.

Jungkook gasps.

His eyes immediately soften, hands coming up to gently cradle her tiny body against him.

“Oh,” he breathes, rocking her slightly. “Baby…”

You watch as he slowly sways from side to side, rubbing her back in slow, soothing circles. His voice drops even softer as he whispers, “Sleepy, huh?”

Hana doesn’t answer, but the way her tiny fingers curl into his shirt says enough.

“Okay, okay,” Jungkook murmurs, pressing another soft kiss to her head. “Let’s forget about dinner. Just sleep, pretty girl. Dada will hold you.”

Your heart swells.

Despite the chaos, despite the pork belly incident, it’s moments like these that make you fall in love with him all over again.

With a small shake of your head, you step closer, reaching out to smooth Hana’s messy baby hair. “She loves you,” you whisper.

Jungkook smiles, gaze full of pure adoration. “I know.”

And with that, the pork belly betrayal is officially forgiven.

[pboogerswbb]

SO IT GOES - chapter 19

Paige Bueckers x oc Warnings: language, angst, sexual (straight) content and language Wordcount: 9.7K A/C: did you miss me? ;) pls send me reactions, i poured my HEART into this chapter (also special ty to my babies @sierrale8ne and @thaatdigitaldiary who got to read this first and gave me some feedback ily)

-

London

This is a Jubilee line train to Stratford. The next station is Canary Wharf. Please mind the gap between the train and the platform.

I get up from the seat and brush myself off, trying to rid my coat of the thousands of commuters who’d sat in this same seat before me. I grab hold of the handle by the door as the tube slows down and finally jerks and comes to a halt. The doors slide open, and I leap onto the platform while men in suits wait for me to get out, before stuffing themselves into the carriage.

Canary Wharf is filled with skyscrapers and important people in smart clothing carrying briefcases, hurrying from one meeting to another. It’s a far stretch from the warm, friendly faces of Dallas, nevermind the weather. I pull out my jet black umbrella, allowing it to catch the droplets falling from the rainclouds that seemed to have appeared out of nowhere.

“Sorry,” I mumble politely as I push through a group of people - undoubtedly tourists - standing in the middle of the walkway. Glancing at the pier along the river I see a group of pigeons fighting over a piece of bread amongst orange leaves spread out on the wood as a sign of autumn. I smooth over my beige trench coat and a chill runs down my back - maybe from the October breeze or maybe from the notification flashing onto my phone screen.

Paige Bueckers named Rookie of The Year

It’s immediate, the way my eyes begin to burn. No Izara, no tears. How lucky am I to have felt something so deep, so real that I could still feel it in my bones. Most people don’t get that in a lifetime. 

I take faster steps, gliding along the streets amongst the tall buildings, beams of sunlight reflecting off the glass. I take down my umbrella, hanging it off my wrist as I push sunglasses onto my face. Even after my entire life in London, I never knew what type of weather the city might throw at me.

Pushing through the tall, glass doors, I’m immediately greeted. 

“Good morning Miss Chopra,” the assistant smiles. Sarah, I believe, though I’m not sure. I haven’t seen her in nearly a year. “Lovely weather, isn’t it?”

I chuckle at her dry joke, taking my hair down from the clip and letting it flow free. “Yes, for approximately 10 minutes until it starts to rain again.”

She laughs softly, before returning to her computer. “Are you here to see…”

“Yes,” I answer before she can finish.

“He should be down in a moment.” The curly haired girl leans forward, smiling knowingly. “I heard you went to Dallas.”

“I did,” I say. Though it felt like some sort of a particularly cruel and confusing fever dream.

”How was it?”

It was horrible and at the same time the best summer of my life. I still let my mind wander as I drift asleep, pretending I’m in the Dallas heat. Pretending she’s right beside me. The city  was beautiful, filled with laughter and heartache and late humid nights and adventures - and her.

”It was pretty cool,” I smile politely.

Sarah chuckles. ”You even sound like an American now.”

Rookie of the Year. Paige Bueckers. Should I text her? Congratulate her? Does she even want me to? My thoughts are interrupted by the sound of a door opening, and a tall man with golden curls and killer dimples walks out with long strides, flashing a charming smile at Sarah and then finally me.

”Good afternoon Mr. Hughes,” she greets beyond the desk.

”It is a good afternoon, isn’t it,” he grins lopsidedly without breaking eye contact with me. ”Hello my darling.”

I wrap an arm around his torso, stroking the navy blue sweater and kiss each of his cheeks to greet him. He does the same, arm remaining around my waist as we pull back.

”It’s good to see you,” he gleams, his grey eyes locked in mine. Bashful under his gaze I nod, letting go as he fetches his coat from the assistant.

”Is it raining?” He asks, throwing on the black trench.

”Lord knows,” I joke, already holding the umbrella in my hands.

With a quick goodbye, the man guides me towards the exit by my lower back, just like he had a million times before.

”I’m ready for a beer,” he murmurs as we step onto the pavement, the wind making its way around the towering buildings and finding its way to my straightened hair.

”Me too Jasper,” I smile, wrapping my arm around his. ”Badly.”

-

The Ship Tavern is buzzing with exhausted Londoners looking for some after-work downtime, spread out all over the low ceiling, dimly lit pub. The warmth emanating off the walls and people is a welcomed contrast to the windy October evening outside, making people cling onto their coats as they walk by. I sit by the window seat, watching them one by one, clutched bags, hair flowing in the wind, hats held down. 

I wonder what the weather in Dallas was like. I wonder if Paige was even in Dallas anymore now that the season was over. It would be easy to figure out of course, just to type 13 letters in the search bar and find a fan obsessed with tracking her down. I won’t do it though. Maybe soon, in a few more months when it didn’t hurt as much. But not yet.

“So I spoke to Dan,” Jasper snaps me out of my thoughts, and I’m reminded of the apple cider and the man sitting opposite of me, sipping a beer.

“What did he say?” I ask almost fearfully.

Ever since Dallas I had been scrambling for a communications job. It felt impossible, even with the experience I had. No one wanted to hire a person who suddenly left her job to run away to another country. Linda might have thought it meant I had guts, here people found me a flight risk.

The curly haired man places the pint down and sighs, looking up at me. “I’m sorry love, there’s no positions open with our firm.”

Groaning, I throw my head onto the wooden pub table making Jasper chuckle, and reach over to pat me on the head.

“He said he'd let me know if he heard about anything,” he adds. “Don’t worry Zari, you’ll find something.”

“But what if I don’t,” I pout, lifting my gaze.

“Well don’t whine for starters,” he jokes and it irks me, but instead of opening my mouth I sip onto the apple cider, letting it warm me up. “What about All Bar-”

“If you say All Bar One I’ll throw this apple cider at you,” I groan. Jasper laughs, shaking his head.

“Alright, don’t fuss,” he says, not taking my threat seriously despite me actually contemplating it. “I mean it wouldn’t be forever, just until you get back on your feet.”

Sighing, I chew on my lower lip. I felt terrified with no plan, nothing to look forward to, nothing left to do but feel sorry for myself. The only constant in my life seemed to be Jasper. Which is exactly why I had reached out to him a few weeks back.

“Don’t do that,” he scolds, but not rudely, in the worrying kind of way he always did, reaching over and brushing his thumb across my lower lip trapped between my teeth so hard it nearly bled. Embarrassed, I smile and grab a hold of his hand, intertwining my fingers with his. Nothing, I felt nothing.

“Give it time,” my mother said when I told her I wasn’t sure if being back together was the right call. “You were both hurt, now heal together.”

She didn’t know. I wasn’t the same, and it had become increasingly harder to be the perfect, no hair out of place Izara once again. But I was trying, because that Izara didn’t move to strange countries on a whim, or get fired from jobs, or fall in love recklessly. That Izara always had a plan - I needed her now. And I knew that Izara was responsible for the call I made to Jasper in August, desperately wanting to salvage what we had.

“It’s not a bad plan if you want to get out of your parents’ house anytime soon,” he says in a sweet tone. “I mean, I’d ask you to come back home but…”

I had been the one to suggest we take it slow - something Jasper resented. But it was that or nothing, and I could tell he was desperate to have me back.

“I know,” I hum, finishing my apple cider and pulling my hands to my lap. “I’ll call my old boss.”

Jasper studies me, leaning back in his chair and brushing his hands through his hair, the expensive watch on his wrist illuminated in the warm lighting as night begins to fall outside.

“I must admit, it doesn’t make sense to me.”

“What doesn’t?” I ask confused.

“You,” he admits. “Leaving everything you ever dreamed of behind for a job in America, just to come back home with your tail between your legs.”

“Don’t push me Jas,” I warn him. I’m aware of his tone and the lightheartedness behind it. But what bothered me was that there was some truth to his words. I did give up, I did fail - though I hadn’t admitted the real reason I returned to anyone.

“I’m just saying, the Izara I knew wouldn’t have done that.”

“Well, maybe you never knew me that well,” I push back frustrated. It surprises Jasper. I was never one to argue. But I had changed. I wouldn’t let what happened to me happen again. 

“Perhaps,” he mumbles, looking down at his lap. “But I want to this time.”

He looks sad, regretful even. Sighing deeply, I take his hands into mine, squeezing comfortingly.

“It just can’t be like it was the last time around Jas,” I say as quietly as I can make myself heard over the crowd in the pub.

He nods, the dimple on his chin quivering with emotion. “I know Zari, I won’t let it happen again.”

I look at him suspiciously, but his grey eyes disarm me like they do every damn time. My thumb smooths over his rough, big hands.

“I came back because… Well, I hated Dallas.” It’s not true. But it’s my best excuse, and he buys it easily. I know Paige wouldn’t have.

“Of course you did, my sweet London girl.”

-

We walk hand in hand along my home street, the cherry trees that blossomed pink in the spring now bare and naked, orange and yellow leaves dancing with the wind along the driveway. Despite being only a 15 minute tube-ride away, the contrast between central London and my street was as if night and day, the silence refreshing but bothersome. I didn’t know what to say to Jasper. I have become quiet nowadays, too stuck in my own head. In the memories of past summer. Of Paige.

My therapist said it was better to face my emotions and thoughts head on, instead of shoving them into a dark desolate corner deep inside my brain and never revisiting them as I usually did. And I tried to do that, but surprisingly I had found it to be extremely hard. Which is why I had run back to Jasper - not only was he a distraction, but something familiar and known when everything else felt dreadful. It was the mature thing to do, to accept him back into my life. To soon carry that wedding band and his last name and birth him beautiful children. Because even if all else fails at least I’ll have achieved something to make my parents proud.

“You better not come in,” I chuckle as we reach the gate of the semi-attached, three-story house of my parents. “My mother will never let you leave.”

Jasper laughs, glancing at the white front door. “You’re right. As usual.”

I shrug easily, my eyes flickering up at his before leaning over to press my lips against him. WIth a soft smack we kiss, and nothing. With time Izara, with time.

“I’ll pick you up for tennis on Saturday at 9AM,” he grins. I nod. I hated tennis.

“Sure,” I force a smile. “Goodnight, Jas.”

Hurrying inside, I find my mother standing right behind the front door, nose pressed into the frosted class. She is clearly snooping.

“Mum!” I groan, but she couldn’t care less. She’s beaming, reaching over and giving my cheek a fat kiss.

“Oh I’m so happy,” she beams, squeezing me tight. “Might I expect a summer wedding for next year?”

“Calm down,” I chuckle, my gut anxiously twisting at the idea of a summer wedding - or wedding at all. I hurry into the kitchen for a glass of water to rid me of my nausea.

“Oh you’re always so dramatic,” she jokes. I hate when she calls me that. “He’s just a wonderful man, you must lock him down before he finds someone else.”

I scoff, rolling my eyes as I face away. I wanted to tell my mom about Paige, about how my heart ached every night as I laid in bed wide awake thinking about her. Sandalwood, blue eyes, soft hands.

”We’re taking it slow mum,” I tell her. ”Don’t get too excited.”

”Okay Izzie-Roo, but he won’t wait forever,” she hums like she knows something I don’t, rubbing my back lovingly. ”But I must say that me and your father are so proud of you. For coming back to your senses and coming home.”

I place the plate I’m drying down onto the counter, gripping onto it. My mother hadn’t missed any opportunity to show her disappointment in my decisions. Everyday it was ”oh I wish I had grandbabies already,” and ”You’d be a married woman if you hadn’t left”. All cruel reminders of what life could be - Now I’m starting from scratch. Well, almost. Which is exactly why I was so quick to beg Jasper for forgiveness. I didn’t want to do it again. At least with him I knew what I’d be getting. But I didn’t need my mother reminding me every moment what I let go.

”I’m going to bed,” I simply grunt, turning to leave.

”Without tea?” She asks, turning the kettle on. ”Wow, America really changed you.”

It’s all I could think of as I lay awake in bed, staring at the ceiling of my childhood bedroom. Perhaps she was right, I just hoped she wasn’t. Because if it was indeed true I wasn’t sure this changed Izara would like the choices I was making right now.

-

”Good morning babe,” gentle kisses land on my cheek, making their way to my neck and finally ear. Chills run up and down my spine as result, a sleepy groan spilling from my lips. A hand brushes through my blonde hair, long nails scratching down my back. Heaven.

”Mm, Iz,” I whisper into the pillow, burying my face into it.

”What was that?” A voice hums into my ear. It’s not Izzie. Not at all.

My eyes flutter open and I’m met with brown eyes. Not hers.

”Mm huh?” I mumble, rubbing my eyes. My mind was still slow and groggy, somewhere between reality and my dreams. Where I met her almost every night.

”I said good morning honey,” Savannah giggles, nuzzling her nose into mine. It grounds me, bringing me back to the now.

”Mm, morning babe,” I murmur, pressing a gentle kiss onto her lips. They’re soft and taste like butterscotch. It’s nice enough.

”You were talking in your sleep, y’know,” the dark haired girl laughs, kissing along my neck and shoulder. I could tell she was trying to turn me on with the way she nibbled and sucked. But I was too tired.

”I was?” I ask bashfully, praying to God it wasn’t anything that might have revealed what I actually dreamt of. Each night. In my restless sleep.

”You’re so cute,” she smiles, placing her lips onto mine. ”You ready for tonight?”

I furrow my brows, sitting up abruptly. ”Ready for what?”

”Paige,” Savannah groans, standing up from the bed. She was already fully dressed, ready to leave for work. I had gotten in the habit of sleeping in after the season ended.

”We’ve been planning on going for weeks!” She’s mad. I can tell. She got mad at me a lot - and I couldn’t really blame her. I was only giving her fragments of me. Truthfully, I didn’t feel whole yet. I don’t know if I ever would.

I roam my mind for anything I might’ve forgotten. Over and over. There was nothing. My dream still had me in a haze. So I merely shrug, looking around. Her gaze is piercing and demanding just like Izara’s. Except it didn’t make me feel the same.

”Don’t shrug at me Paige Bueckers cause I’m not the one,” she snaps cuttingly. 

”I’m sorry, I just woke up babe,” I complain, hands still rubbing my tired eyes. ”Just tell me, Sav, please.”

The woman sighs, rolling her eyes but then folds - my blue eyes always enough to get her to calm down.

”The hallo-”

”The halloween party! Nah I knew that!” I exclaim, my mood getting better instantly. Savannah doesn’t like this though, shaking her head and walking out of the bedroom. I follow after the woman. It was too early for her antics right now.

“Sav c’mon, said I’m sorry,” I plead, pulling up black sweatpants with a struggle, almost tripping over my feet.

“Do you even wanna go?” She asks with a huff, finally meeting my gaze.

“Yes.” Not particularly. “Real bad okay?” I force a nod, hoping it’ll pass for excitement.

She looks straight at me and I can tell she doesn’t believe a word I say. I don’t know if I believe myself either. But Savannah, ever so graceful, decides to let it go. Just to make sure, I grab her hand decorated with rings and fine line tattoos, kissing it softly. Her shoulders soften.

“I gotta go to work,” the girl sighs, grabbing her large gym bag. Savannah danced for the Mavericks during the NBA season, though right now she was teaching at a dance studio nearby. What a cliche, huh? The basketball player and the dancer. Of course.

“Have you thought about the costume?”

I bite on my lower lip - anything not to groan out loud. I must have refused a thousand times but she persisted.

“I’m just not a costume typa person, you feel me?” I say as gently as I can. Savannah had wanted to wear a matching costume. I on the other hand thought our relationship wasn’t even nearly that serious.

The woman is disappointed, throwing on a cropped hoodie over her sports bra. 

“Not even for me?” She asks, about to head out.

No. “I’m sorry Sav, maybe next year.”

And without a kiss goodbye, she leaves.

I walk back to bed, crashing onto my stomach and burying my face into the pillow. I swear for a moment I can smell Izzie - lavender and pear. But it disappears as fast as it hits me, suddenly gone. Like she was.

I didn’t think about her this much all the time - or at least I wasn’t this aware of it. Me and Savannah made a good couple. We first met the night that I and Izara kissed on the balcony of Arike’s and Lala’s apartment, but she never stood out to me. Not until Satou brought her around to a team hang-out and she sat next to me, doing everything in her power to keep me engaged and talking. At that point I had been devastated for weeks - not sleeping or eating. Barely surviving. Izara took a lot with her when she left. I still felt the loss, some days less and some days more. But Sav kept me focused and distracted. And I did truly care for her.

Like I said, we’re a good match on paper. She’s gorgeous, there’s no denying that. She knows hoops. Gets along with my friends. Doesn’t ask too many questions. She’s kind and gentle. Let’s me be independent. Laughs at my jokes. But sometimes when she grabbed my hand, or kissed my cheek I had to remind myself not to flinch. Not because it wasn’t right, or even nice - but it just wasn’t the same. It was never meant to go past the sheets. But very quickly I realised that wouldn’t be enough for Savannah. And I didn’t wanna lose her. She was the closest I could get to Izara.

-

”Omg that’s so fun,” Savannah, who’s clapping along to the music, giggles. The pub is buzzing with people dressed in a range of costumes, me sticking out amongst the playboy bunnies and firefighter gear like a sore thumb in my sweats and t-shirt, nursing a dirty Shirley. Sav is clinging onto me, her hip pressing into mine, bare legs on show in her skimpy cat outfit. 

“Let’s go dance,” she says brightly, yanking at my arm.

“I’m good,” I give her the smile she wants, my Shirley a good excuse not to go. At least to me.

She doesn’t fight it, but I can tell she’s not happy. Sav had learned quickly enough that pleading and begging didn’t work with me. If I said something I stood on it. It was only a rare few I ever changed my mind for.

Savannah drags Lala to the floor with her instead, grinning at me. I smirk back, watching her dance for a while, until I grow bored of the repeating movements and turn to Arike.

“You good?” She asks, finishing her drink and hissing with the burn of the booze.

“Yea,” I murmur into my drink. “Why?” It wasn’t a question I was used to from Arike.

“Because you been quiet all night,” she chuckles “And Lala gonna kill me if I don’t ask.” The woman puts her hands up defensively, a teasing look in her eye. “But my bad if I’m wrong.”

I glance back at Savannah and Lala, now joined by Satou as well. They’re still busy dancing. Far enough.

“I’m fine I just,” I start, suddenly feeling like I need a big gulp of air. “I had a weird dream I guess.”

Arike turns to me. I had her full attention now.

“About Za-”

“Yeah.” I interrupt. I can’t bear to hear her name.

There’s a pause, just music and voices filling the space we don’t. I can tell she’s trying to find something to say, something I can handle. The topic of Izara had been a sensitive one, and had caused me to walk out of many rooms ever since she left. I can’t believe she just left me. Like I was nothing.

“How are things with Savannah?” She asks, cutting through the silence.

“Fine, I mean,” I mumble, looking for anything to say. I opt for finishing my drink instead. “She’s good. No complaints.”

“She your girlfriend or?”

“Nah, I’m just feeling her out,” I admit. Truthfully she had asked me the same question a week before. I didn’t have a very clear answer to offer.

“You been feeling her out for like three months tho,” Arike points out. And she’s right. Had it really been that long? “You were obsessed with Zari in like a week.”

Her name cuts through me like a knife, undoing a wound I’d been spending months healing and tending to. A sudden ache overwhelms my chest forcing me to rub circles on it, just like Izzie used to when she got overwhelmed. I try to cover it all up with a single laugh.

“Well, that was her. Y’know?”

“Yea,” Arike nods. Silence again. “You heard of her at all? After, y’know?”

I shake my head, nails digging into my palms. I decide to bite on my cuticles instead. ”Not after she texted.”

The day after I was named Rookie of The Year I had received a text from Izzie.

Congratulations Paige, you deserve it.

It threw me into a downward spiral, and made me nearly inconsolable for a week. I had no choice but to stay with Lala and Arike. Thankfully they always welcomed me with open arms. I just felt bad dragging other people into my own drama.

”You?” I ask innocently enough, though I was starving for any sign of her, for any news at all.

”No not really,” Rike murmurs, barely audible over the music. ”But her and Lala call sometimes.”

I’m leaning in. This is the most engaged I’ve been in any conversation all night. Arike can tell, noticing my wide eyes and the focused furrow of my brows.

”Yeah, she’s good. She’s working at a bar right now. Hard to find PR work I guess.”

My heart aches. I know that’s not what she wants and I can only imagine how bad she’s beating herself up over that. I screwed that up for her. If it wasn’t for me she could’ve made it work. But I was selfish. I had to have her. Fuck I miss her.

Suddenly my eyes burn, and the need for fresh air is overbearing. 

”I’ma be back,” I tell Arike, completely forgetting about Savannah as I rush out of the bar. Rike doesn’t say a word to stop me, she knows better than that. 

Dallas is still warm at the end of October, but the nights are cool enough to make me pull my jacket over my shoulders. People in halloween costumes walk by along the streets, tipsy and giggling. Not a care in the world. Like it didn’t matter that she was gone. Like it didn’t end their worlds like it did mine.

I lean against the wall of the building, pulling my hood up and tightening the strings. I wasn’t in the mood to be recognised. The alcohol had made me nostalgic and forlorn. Or maybe it was the dream - or both.

Hands fumbling for my phone, I unlock the screen and scroll to the messages I had read over and over again.

Iz? Pls answer the phone What tf is this note Ur joking Tell me ur not serious Izzie I can’t do this

I just landed Paige. I’m sorry it has to be like this. Everything I have to say is in the letter. I think it’s best if we don't talk for a while.

It’s the only way I can do this

What about me? Izara please I love you I can’t lose you

I’m sorry

A warm tear runs down the cool skin of my cheek, my lower lip quivering. I do what I always do when I felt like this - when I missed her so bad I could barely breathe. I close my eyes and imagine.

She’s here with me. Her long black hair in those waves I loved so much, long nails scratching along my forearms and the sound of her laughter - God what I’d do to hear it one more time. To hear the pearls of her giggles carry all the way from the opposite side of the room. To find her in a crowd and see her green eyes land in mine.

I miss you

I type, finger hovering over the send button. I don’t know what I want it to lead to. I don’t even know if she would reply - or what she would say. I don’t care. I just want her to know. I need her to know.

So I press send.

”Hey, there you are honey!” Savannah stumbles out of the bar, giggling and gleaming. I push my phone into my pocket, meeting her smile best I can.

”Hey pretty girl,” I sigh, wrapping my arm around her waist and pulling her in. She melts into me quickly, pulling my hand down her back to her ass. I can tell what kinda mood she’s in.

”Mmh, can we go home baby?” She whines, batting her big brown eyes at me. I chuckle, kissing the top of her head.

I force myself to shift gears. I’ve gotten good at that. ”Let’s go,” I answer, calling down a cab.

-

”Oh you lucky girl,” Lucy, my coworker groans, looking at the people lining along the bar as I pack my bag to leave. I chuckle, throwing on a cream coloured cashmere sweater over my top. 

”The tourists must be around early, I don’t know,” I answer. It had been a particularly busy day, and more people seemed to be piling into the bar. It wasn’t even December yet - tourist season was only getting started.

”Anyway, I’m going home,” I beam, wrapping my beige trench coat around me. ”Got a family dinner waiting.”

”Enjoy your weekend,” Lucy smiles enviously as I head out of the bar. The streets of central London are swarming with people, tourists walking in hives along Oxford street. I follow them, my heels causing my feet to ache.

The clock is only 7 in the evening, but it’s already dark. The Christmas lights twinkle above the buildings, shaped like angels guarding over the crowd. There’s a chill in the air. I should’ve worn my gloves.

I knew I shouldn’t have taken this route when I get to the end of the road. Piccadilly Circus is packed. I let out a frustrated sigh. I should’ve walked to another station - I just wanted to see the Christmas lights.

No matter how I felt inside, Piccadilly Circus feels alive - Like London’s pulsing neon heart. The smell of churros and powdered sugar lingers in the air, fleeting visitors of the city posing for pictures here and there, the residents groaning and rolling their eyes, inconvenienced by the tourists.  

Everything’s fighting for your attention, the large billboard bursting with different colours. My gaze lifts on instinct, drawn to the biggest screen. Then I see her. Paige, ten feet tall, smiling under the Nike swoosh like she never left.

I stumble, nearly crashing into the man in front of me. It forces my eyes to glance down at my feet.

”I’m sorry,” I say, looking back up at the billboard. She’s still there with that lopsided grin. A sudden tightness takes over my chest. I have to get out of there.

-

”More roast Jasper?” My mother offers, handing a piece to the man beside me.

Jasper smiles in that familiar charming manner, rubbing his stomach. 

”How could I resist? Your roast was always the best in all of England,” he offers his plate. My mom eats it up, like she always did with him, and piles more food onto it.

”Oh, you’re just trying to flatter me,” my mum giggles. 

”Well, I have to find my way back to the family groupchat somehow.”

”I don’t think that’s necessary,” Kiran mumbles under his breath, barely audible. I kick his leg under the table. He wasn’t the biggest fan of Jasper. Matter of fact he didn’t speak to me for a week after I told him I was seeing Jas again.

“I’m sure when we see that ring on her finger again we will consider it,” my father jokes. I immediately put down my fork and knife, too nauseated to eat.

“You can blame your daughter for that,” Jasper points a fork at my parents. His tone is lighthearted, but I can tell there’s truth to the words. It frustrates me.

“Jasper,” I complain, finishing my wine in a moment of anger. Everyone except Kiran looks at me disappointedly.

“It’s only a joke Zari, no need to get fussy,” Jasper says, causing my parents to laugh. Kiran’s and my eyes meet. The old Izara would’ve just brushed it off. But for some reason I was having a really hard time.

With everything he had done there was good in him too. Of course there was, otherwise I wouldn’t be here. I just really hated the facade he put on for my parents - and hated it worse when it worked this well. He could be so charming, and so not the next. I just wish he stopped pretending and was himself. I couldn’t help but feel that the only reason my parents tolerated my “mistake” of moving to Dallas was because of how much they adored Jasper. My mom would remind me every day how lucky I was for a man like him. And it’s true. But I wish I was enough on my own.

“More wine please?” I ask with a deep exhale.

“You sure?” Both Jasper and my mum question. Thankfully Kiran grabs the bottle, filling both our glasses.

“May I be excused?” I ask, grabbing the wine. “Long day at work.”

“Sure darling,” My father smiles and as soon as the words leave his mouth I stand up and leave the table.

Sitting in front of the firepit on a pillow, I watch the flames dance gently, crackling and painting my face in a warm hue. I let the wine calm my running mind, still haunted by the shadow of Paige over me.

“You alright?” Kiran’s voice interrupts the image of her face overwhelmingly clear in my head still.

“Yeah,” I mumble, making space on the pillow. He sits beside me, sipping his wine.

“Where’s Jas?”

“Helping mum and dad tidy,” he groans, rolling his eyes and lying back on the expensive persian rug that was my mother’s dearest possession.

“Quit,” I tell him, sick of his attitude. Yes, he disapproved. He has made that clear. It will not change anything. “It’s nice of him.”

“Yeah he’s just great,” Kiran complains dryly. I swat at his leg, finishing my wine.

A comfortable silence settles between us, the crackling fire and the distant clanking of dishes the only sounds in the living room.

“So I saw that Nike ad the other day,” he starts from behind me, awkwardly interrupting the quiet moment. “With Paige, you seen it?”

Her name cuts like a knife, leaving me bleeding and wounded. I can still see her image over me, flashing on the billboards. Those eyes that I saw every night I closed my eyes. She was so far away, yet she was everywhere.

“Yeah, I saw,” I answer. “Pretty cool.”

Kiran sits back up, his hazel eyes filled with curiosity and some hesitation. I had avoided every conversation about Paige since I came back.

“How is she?” He asks. I simply shrug.

“We don’t really talk anymore,” I admit.

He offers me the rest of his wine. I take it. “What happened with you two?”

“Oh nothing,” I lie. “She was a good friend, but I’m not in Dallas anymore.”

Kiran huffs, shaking his head. 

“What?” I ask, now my turn to be curious.

He meets my gaze. “I know Iz.”

“Know what?”

“About you and her,” he admits.

My stomach drops, the taste of wine lingering in my mouth bitter and tangy. I put the glass down. To my knowledge he had been oblivious to everything that happened.

“I figured it out in America,” Kiran explains. “And I asked Paige. We agreed you shouldn’t know that I know.”

“Oh,” I say, unsure what to say. And I don’t have to figure it out - Because Jasper walks in and interrupts us with the creaking of the door.

“Shall we head out, love?” He asks, reaching down to pick me up. He had convinced me to come and stay the night with him and quite honestly I wanted to. I needed an excuse not to think of Paige.

“Let’s go babe,” I smile. My brother makes a face of him gagging that only I can see.

“I packed some leftovers,” my mum runs after us to the door as we pack up. “Izara, you stay as long as you’d like.”

“Yes mom I’m 26 if you haven’t noticed.” I laugh, feeling a little tipsy from the wine. The joke makes my dad chuckle, both of my parents waving as we pack into Jasper’s car. 

-

Jasper still lives in the same townhouse, with the same furniture and the same artwork on the walls - all picked out by me. It’s like he knew I’d come back some day. But walking around feels strange, like the shell of what was once a home. It had lost its warmth, something had changed. No, I had.

“You could just leave your things here y’know,” Jasper huffs as he heaves my bag up the staircase, to what once was our master bedroom. “Half of the closet is still free. I can dust it too.”

But I’m in my own world, fingertips running along the expensive sheets on the bed. My bed. I was different back then. Before Paige. She had left a mark that would change me forever.

“Love?” Jasper asks, his hands wrapping around me behind my waist. I’m brought back to earth.

“Mmh?” I ask, his lips beginning to kiss along my neck. I knew what he wanted. It was always the same motions in the same order.

“Will you clean up and meet me in bed?” He asks, hands gently feeling my breasts. I don’t feel much, but the wine has made me more relaxed and willing. So I do as he says.

After taking my time doing my skincare and brushing through my hair, I walk out in the robe I used to wear every night just a year ago. It still fit me like a glove, the satin smooth against my body - sheer but leaving some things for the imagination.

“Wow,” Jasper gasps, sitting up in bed the moment he sees me. He’s turned off the lights. I guess I used to like that. Paige never wanted to. She wanted to see all of me, always.

Feeling bold from the wine, I pull on the tie letting it fall open, all of me bare in front of him.

“I-Izara,” he nearly chuckles at my actions, so shocked by them. It’s a far cry from the girl I was a year ago.

Wordlessly, I walk over to the bed and straddle him leaving the robe scattered on the floor. Completely naked, I begin to kiss his neck. Jasper sighs loudly, gently rolling me to my back to cover us both with the duvet. The routine is familiar. Predictable. Performed.

It’s quiet, the only sounds the kisses between us and the heavy breathing. Jasper runs his coarse hands all over my body. It’s nice to feel someone like this, to have a distraction. Except it doesn’t distract me at all. With every touch, lick, kiss I can only think of her. I try not to compare, but how can I not when the only way I can get wet at all is to close my eyes and hope he stays quiet so I can imagine it’s her.

“Oh,” I whimper, reminiscing of sandalwood and her sure hands that knew exactly what to do. The ones that felt like heaven. And for a moment it feels like I’m far away, the image of her face clear and crisp. I imagine it’s her on top of me, making love to me.

I don’t open my eyes till Jasper is done, and rolls over to his back, trying to catch his breath.

“I love you,” he pants. Without much thought I answer.

“I love you too.”

We lie there for a moment staring at the ceiling and the shadows created by the passing cars. I feel lightheaded and nauseous. Must be the wine.

“I’m gonna go clean up,” I mumble, carefully sitting up and tiptoeing to the bathroom in a t-shirt. I lock the door behind me, but it takes me an entire minute to turn the lights on. Mindlessly, I clean up and wash myself off until I feel too nauseated to stand.

With trembling hands I grip onto the sink and hop to the countertop. Why I felt like this I wasn’t sure. We’d had sex before with Jasper before and it was fine so why was it all of a sudden making me sick to my stomach.

It was that damn ad. It had to be. I couldn’t take my mind off of her. Of course I thought about her constantly, all the time in fact. But it was bearable. At least it used to be.

My phone buzzes against the marble of the counter, pulling me back from the fog. The screen is lit up with a pointless text from Kiran, but I ignore it by swiping up and getting on Instagram. I had completely stopped using TikTok, the edits and speculation of mine and Paige’s relationship was too agonizing.

I want to see her, just for a moment. It’s what I convince myself of as I’m about to tap the search bar. But instead my eyes surge to the suggested post of a gorgeous girl next to Paige, kissing her cheek.

My number 5 <3

I immediately cover my mouth, feeling like I actually might be sick. Kneeling down next to the toilet I take deep breaths to ground myself. In and out. The bathroom tiles feel warm underneath my bare legs. I would rather sleep here than out there. 

I had no right to feel like this, yet I did. I look at the picture again. The girl is stunning. I’m just surprised she moved on so fast - but then again so had I. Except I hadn’t really moved on. I don’t know if I ever truly could.

I miss you

I look at the text I received from Paige a month ago, left unresponded. I thought it would be best just to ignore it, likely just a drunken mistake. But right now it was impossible to pretend it wasn’t there.

So I tell her, from the bathroom floor.

I miss you too

-

The gym smells like rubber mats and metal, holiday music playing faintly in the background. I barely hear, blasting Drake through my airpods and chewing the peppermint gum in my mouth. In the early morning I’m the only one here, tiring out my arms and back one last time before I would take a break for Christmas.

Actually my break was supposed to start yesterday. But I couldn’t stand sitting around in my dad’s house, decorating the tree and baking. I couldn’t have been further from feeling jolly or whatever. I just felt bad because it was hard pretending to be excited. But I tried my best for Drew’s sake.

I stare at my own reflection in the mirror, eyes locked on the movement as I do some lateral raises, focusing hard to target the muscles in my shoulders. Four more, I think to myself, face red and huffing.

From the corner of my eye I see dark wavy hair pushed back, as a woman turns the corner and disappears from my line of vision. The weights nearly drop from my hands. 

“Iz?” I murmur to myself, opting out for placing them down gently and processing what I saw. It makes no sense. It’s ridiculous, she’s miles away. I knew that. But God, what if it is her. She even had the baby pink gym set.

Heart pounding in my chest, I walk around the gym trying to find this girl just for the slim chance it is Izzie. I circled the gym three times, blue eyes darting from one corner to another. It has to be her. 

I hurry into the women’s locker room, my gym bag and water bottle abandoned by the weights. In a haze I search it too - but there’s no one there. I feel dizzy. I sit down, noticing my heart beating what felt like a million miles an hour. With shaky hands, I tighten my ponytail.

Pulling out my phone, I search her Instagram profile just to prove myself false. And there it is, a picture on her story, undeniably from London. Great. After everything I also seemed to be losing my mind.

-

The day is spent Christmas baking with Drew and my stepmom, and helping my dad tidy the garage. Everyone seems to be in a good mood about the approaching holidays, but I was somewhere else. Lost in the memories of her. My visions of Izara had left me in a worse state than before. I couldn’t pretend much more.

“And this box needs to go on that shelf. Would you? My back’s been killin’ since…” my dad’s words fade into the background as I stare at the sign on the wall: Let go and let God

It had been there for years, but I had never really seen it till now. Something about it was drawing me in.

“Paige?”

I’m pulled back, my dad’s voice snapping me out of it.

“Yeah?” I ask, turning to face him. He points at a newly packed box.

“Could you? My back,” my dad complains.

“Sure, yeah,” I answer, heaving the box onto the shelf with ease. Despite cleaning for hours, some dust flies off with the impact, illuminated in the setting sun. My dad chuckles, shaking his head.

“Well I guess I’m officially old, got my daughter lifting things for me,” he laughs. “But I guess not everyone’s daughter is a professional athlete.”

“Guess not,” I murmur absentmindedly. My dad looks at me for a moment, studying. It was easy to tell something wasn’t quite right. I wasn’t good at hiding it.

“So,” he clears his throat. “How’s Savannah?”

He’s digging. I can tell.

“Oh, that’s over,” I answer, picking at my cuticles. Nothing could push Izzie away from my mind.

“What happened?” My dad asks, shocked. I merely raise my shoulders. 

“Just didn’t work,” I say lazily. I didn’t really care to talk about it. She clearly liked me more than I ever did her, and the public post of us was the final straw.

“Oh, that’s too bad,” he mumbles. 

“Have you uh, heard from Izara since she moved back?”

It's entirely the wrong and yet the right question to ask. I open my mouth but not a word comes out. I don’t know what there is to say. Because just saying no was painful enough.

So I burst into tears.

“Hey, hey, I’m here,” my dad is quick to wrap me into his arms, rubbing my back up and down as he comforts me. I cry into his shoulder, tears drenching his shirt but he doesn’t seem to care about anything except making it all okay for me.

“Shh, Paige, you’re okay,” she murmurs. I pull back to wipe my eyes. Concern is written all over my dad’s face.

“What’s going on with you?” He asks.

I hesitate, but I’m too exhausted to keep up the lie. “I miss her,” I whisper, lower lip trembling. I can’t meet my dad’s eye.

“Iz?”

I nod.

“I thought I saw her today at the gym,” I admit. “Feel like I’m goin’ crazy.”

My dad listens intently, nodding with my words.

“I could tell it hit you hard when she left,” he says, rubbing my forearm. His familiar touch grounds me. “I just didn’t know it was still on your mind.”

“Yeah,” I sigh. “I don’t think I’m ever gonna get over her.”

He thinks for a while, the garage filled with my sniffling. “Maybe you’re not supposed to,” he says. “Maybe that’s God’s way of telling you there’s something there still.”

I want to laugh. What a ridiculous thing to frame my obsessive personality as a sign. Though if someone would, it would be my dad. Maybe he has a point. Why wouldn’t God allow me to move on? Why was she haunting me everywhere I went?

“Maybe,” I answer thoughtfully, kicking the small rocks on the concrete.

“So what are you gonna do about it?” My dad asks. I lift my gaze back to him. 

“She’s in your head, in your heart - you just gonna mope around about it?” He continues. “Doesn’t sound like something you’d do.”

“I’m not moping,” I defend myself. It’s a lie. I definitely am. “Anyway, there’s nothin’ to do. She’s in London.”

“So?” My dad shrugs. “What’s stopping you from going over there?”

I blink at him, stunned by the question. What was stopping me? Pride? Fear? The fact that it might be too late?

I’m not sure, but I know God wouldn’t be sending me these signs unless it meant something. I just didn’t know what yet.

“I don’t know,” I admit - but something in my head clicks.

-

It’s already dark when my dad drives me to the airport, the stars twinkling in the sky and guiding me. I wish he would speed a little, not that it would make the plane leave any faster. All this time the distance felt infinite, the ocean felt impossible to cross. Like we lived in different worlds. I never realised only an eight hour flight would take me to her.

I tap the armrest all night, jittery with butterflies. I’m only able to sleep in small spurts here and there, far too giddy for any real rest. The idea of seeing her face both terrified and excited me. I had no idea how I might react. Let alone how she will. 

It is right before 3 pm local time when I wake up from my sleep to an announcement by the pilot with a British accent, immediately making me think of Izara.

“Ladies and gentlemen, we are about to begin our descent for London Heathrow Airport. The weather is cloudy with gusts of wind, the temperature around 6 degrees Celsius - that’s around 42 fahrenheit for any Americans aboard. Now, if you look through the right side windows, you might be able to get a good view of the city. I wish you all a Happy Christmas.”

My eyes immediately dart to the window, watching the views below as the plane curves above London. The pilot is right. I might not be an expert on the city but even I can identify Big Ben and the London Eye all the way from up here. A soft smile spreads to my face and I let out a sigh of relief. She’s right there somewhere. And it’s like my body can tell.

With a suitcase and a duffel bag I read through the signs of the airport. Underground that way. I consider it, but realise what a stupid idea it would be to navigate my way through a strange city using strange public transport when I didn’t even know where to go.

So I opt out for a black cab, climbing into the backseat.

“Where are we heading, Miss?” The driver asks with a heavy English accent. It’s different from Izara’s. I remember her telling me the accents changed a lot throughout the country.

“Uhh,” I mumble, scratching the back of my head. “A hotel. But I’m not sure where.”

“You have no reservation?” He asks, glancing at my reflection in the front mirror. His tone made me feel scolded.

“No sir,” I admit. “But any hotel is fine.”

“Well it is Christmas. The hotels are quite costly and overbooked.”

“I’m not on a budget,” I answer awkwardly. “Any price is okay.”

“Hmm,” the man sighs and I know he’s imposing my disorganised behaviour onto all Americans right now. “Zone 1 or Zone 2?”

I have no idea what that means. He can definitely tell. “Both are okay.” 

We begin to drive and it only hits me then and there that I had no plan. No address, no idea where to find her. I was scared to text her, I wasn’t sure she’d want to see me. But I had to start somewhere, and finding a place to stay is the first step.

-

After a shower and getting dressed, the sun is already setting. Apparently it gets dark early in London. I’m glad I brought my Nike puffer vest though, it was much colder than I expected. My hands tingle as I blow hot air onto them, rubbing them together, looking for a metro station - or I guess underground is what they called it here.

I scroll through Izara’s Instagram feed for any hints for where she might be. But there’s nothing. I feel hopeless, frustrated and stupid. What am I doing? This is insane. I almost turn back to the hotel.

It's then I remember my conversation with Arike and what Izzie had told Lala. About her job at the bar. She talked about that bar all the time - But I couldn’t remember the name for the life of me. Something bar something? Shit. She used to say there was a Christmas market right outside in December.

“Hey, my bad- Are you from here?” I stop a British looking lady on the street. She’s taken back but nods. 

“Great well, this is kinda weird but. I’m looking for a bar close to a Christmas Market, do you know any?”

She furrows her brows at me, and for a moment I think she’s about to walk off.

“Well it could be any bar honestly,” she chuckles dryly. “But that sounds like Covent Garden to me.”

The lady can tell I’m confused by my expression. “Okay, so you take the Elizabeth Line to Tottenham Court Road and it’s a short walk from there.”

I forget the words as soon as she says them. Why did all the places in London have to sound so ridiculous? Couldn’t they just be normal.

“Darling, are you following?” She asks. The nickname immediately reminds me of Izzie.

“Not really, I’m sorry,” I admit, a flush from embarrassment and the breeze settling onto my cheeks. The lady laughs, and begins to dig for something in her bag. She pulls out a pocket sized map titled Tube map.

“You’ll learn to use it,” she smiles, suddenly much warmer and friendlier. Perhaps that’s how pitiful I looked - at least it’s how I felt. The lady writes down the station and the words Covent Garden onto the back and hands it to me.

“Take it, I hope you find it darling,” she smiles and leaves me standing with the map.

-

London is magical on Christmas. There’s faint holiday music playing around every corner, Michael Buble soundtracking the scenery of glimmering lights and red and gold decorations. A group of people are letting out giggles and shouts of glee as they blow faux snow down a roof in Covent Garden, painting a picture of a real winter wonderland. But I can’t enjoy any of it, or even stop for the roasted hazelnuts or mulled wine they sell from carts. I’m too focused on my destination.

I circle the entire market multiple times, with no signs of Izara until I decide this isn’t the right place. The joy of everyone around me, the families laughing, the couples kissing, feels like a cruel joke. Maybe it was time to call Izzie. To let her know I was here.

“I was thinking we should go to All Bar One in Leicester Sq-” The two girls beside me debate their next move, the familiar name of the bar snapping me out of my pity party.

“Excuse me,” I mumble, interrupting them. The girls look up at me - they must be around my age. “Is All Bar One next to like a Christmas Market?”

They blink up at me before one of them answers. “Well the one in Leicester Square is.”

That has to be it. Please God let it be it.

“Is it far?” I ask.

“No, not at all.” They all chuckle in unison. “It’s like a five minute walk.”

“Forreal?” I can’t fight the grin on my face. 

“Yeah,” one of the girls smiles. “I can show on maps.”

Perhaps I’m too trusting, letting the girl set up a route for me on my phone. But right now I don't care about anything but getting to Izara.

“Thank you so much,” I beam, grabbing my phone back. Five minute walk indeed.

“You’re welcome,” she smiles. “Sorry if this is weird, but are you Paige Bueckers?”

Shit.

“Errr, yeah,” I murmur. “But I’m not supposed to be here. So let’s keep it hush.”

The girls all laugh but nod. “Don’t worry. Good luck finding it!”

I swear I’ve never taken such long steps as I nearly jog towards Leicester Square, doing my best not to bump into the crowds of people walking like a herd along the streets of London. The five minute walk only takes me half the time, until my eyes land on a Christmas market in the middle of the square - filled with little stalls selling food and trinkets. But I walk right past until I see it. In big golden letters on the pale building. All Bar One.

The butterflies rush to my stomach, and instinctively I pull my beanie off to pat down my hair. A breeze causes  goosebumps all around my body but I don’t even notice the cold. I squint trying to see through the tall windows into the bar, but the twinkling lights of the market opposite make it impossible. I better do it now before I get cold feet.

Taking a deep breath, I walk to the door and open it. It’s surprisingly heavy, and I let it close behind me. What hits me first is the warmth of the space, mood lighting flickering against the people and painted walls. It smells like red wine, cinnamon and nutmeg. The faint sound of Have Yourself a Merry Little Christmas carries over the chatter even though it’s packed. The waitresses and bartenders walk around with bright smiles and a pep in their step that tells me it’s a busy evening. But I’m only looking for one.

And there she is. Meticulously rubbing a wine glass clean of fingerprints, dark brows in a deep furrow and face scrunched in concentration. For a moment I think it’s a dream. I don’t dare to move. I feel frozen, standing there and watching her. And it seems she can feel my presence - because for no reason at all Izara lifts her gaze and her eyes land on mine, softening as they do. And I know it was worth it to come, even just for that.

-

taglist: @wbbgetsmewetter@thaatdigitaldiary@pb524830@bueckersfive@lupinqs@sierrale8ne@avvwritesstufff@bueckers22@taylynbueckers44@unadulteratedcyclepaper@rizzlerbuckets@wosolipa@bridgetloveswomen@paiges1vur@slut4uconnwbb@xxloveralways14@bueckersbitch@janaelalfysblunt@omgimtumbling@angryflowerwitch@ohbueckers @enchantingesme @ohmybueckers @potatobears-world @wnbawag @maryjanewatsons @naeswrrldd @she-is-my-unrequited-love34 @paigebaby5 @gayflygirl @saverdelrey @xoxosierralane @katemartinsfuturewife @nicebellee @everyonewatchesuconnwbb @cowboybueckers

[hqfanaticism]

Mobei-Jun was dying, bleeding out in an alley from a gunshot wound to the abdomen courtesy of the Huan Hua gang in an attempt to sever the line of succession of the Northern Desert gang.

He blinked blearily, vision hazy. He heard light footsteps and tried in vain to move but before he could he heard a gasp.

The footsteps halted. Then started up again slowly, coming towards him.

“Oh god, oh god, are you dead? Did I just find a dead body?”

Mobei-Jun opened his eyes and shifted his head slightly to look at the man standing above him.

An angel, he thought dazedly. A heavenly being who had deigned to come down to him.

The man had round cheeks and wide, honey eyes, sun kissed skin and warm brown hair.

He looked like warmth and softness, everything that Mobei-Jun’s life has never contained.

He smiled slightly and Mobei-Jun’s heart lurched.

“Oh, you’re alive! You need to get to a hospital, you’re bleeding so much. Wait, is that…? Shit, is that a gunshot? Oh god, what did I just get myself into?”

The man’s anxious chatter slowly faded as Mobei-Jun lost his tenuous grip on consciousness.

He supposed he should be grateful to see an angel before his death.

—-

When Mobei-Jun next awoke, it was to the steady sound of a heart monitor and an ache in his abdomen.

And the soft sound of someone’s breath next to him.

He forced his eyes open, trying to gather the will to move, to deal with whatever he would be met with-

Only to find the angel.

He was tapping at his phone, intensely focused. Mobei-Jun noticed how old the phone looked, with a cracked screen and a case held together with duct tape.

The man glanced up and froze.

“You’re awake!”

Mobei-Jun blinked.

“Do you know how hard it was to get you into a taxi and to a hospital? You’re needlessly big, ah! Who needs all those muscles? You’re so heavy! And I didn’t know your name and you didn’t have any ID on you. The nurses looked at me like they thought I did something to you! But then I think they took a second look and realized you could kill me with one finger and decided it couldn’t have been me. Which! Is a good thing, but also kind of an insult.”

Mobei-Jun stared at the man, enamored with the expressions that flitted across his face in quick succession, charmed by his nervous chattering.

“Mobei-Jun.”

The man stopped talking when Mobei-Jun spoke, blinking at him with confusion.

Cute.

“My name. Mobei-Jun.”

“Oh. Mobei-Jun. Nice to meet you?” He seemed a little unsure of that statement. “I’m Shang Qinghua.”

Shang Qinghua. Mobei-Jun could feel the name being etched into his heart.

“Um, I guess I should go now. I only stayed because I didn’t want to leave you to wake up alone. But you seem okay now.”

“No!”

“No? You’re not okay?” Shang Qinghua looked worried and glanced around like he was looking for a nurse to call.

“No, don’t go.”

“Oh. Uh. Okay. I guess I can stay a little longer. I have to leave eventually though. I have work in the morning.”

Mobei-Jun relaxed for the moment.

Shang Qinghua called a nurse and watched anxiously as Mobei-Jun was examined. He looked away with pink cheeks when the nurse exposed Mobei-Jun’s torso to check on his wound.

Once she had ensured the wound’s dressing was clean and gave Mobei-Jun a dose of pain medication, she bustled away.

Shang Qinghua flittered about nervously after the nurse left, seeming unsure what to do.

“What were you typing?” Mobei-Jun asked.

“What?”

“Earlier. On your phone.”

“Oh, uh, I’m a writer. Not full time, I have a day job. But I’ve published a novel online that’s pretty popular. I was writing the next chapter.”

“What is the story about?”

Shang Qinghua came alive as he talked about his story, the nervousness falling away, his energy diverting into a clear passion for his work.

Mobei-Jun stared, drinking in the sight. Shang Qinghua was so invested in sharing his story that he didn’t seem to notice until several minutes had passed. When he did finally notice, his words slowed, then trailed off.

“Um. Do I have something on my face?”

Mobei-Jun blinked. He almost said no until he realized he could take advantage of the question.

“Yes.” He lifted his hand and cupped Shang Qinghua’s cheek, stroking his thumb against it. He marveled at how big his hand was in comparison to Shang Qinghua. His hand nearly covered from his cheek to the back of his head.

Shang Qinghua stared at him with wide eyes and pink cheeks, frozen in place. Mobei-Jun left his hand there for a few long moments before dropping his arm.

“There. Gone.”

Shang Qinghua lifted a hand and brushed his fingers against the cheek that Mobei-Jun had just touched. “Thanks,” he said in a dazed voice.

Mobei-Jin’s eyes were starting to get heavy, the pain medication making him sleepy. He struggled to keep them open but Shang Qinghua noticed.

“I really should go. You need to sleep. Do you need me to call anyone for you?”

Mobei-Jun shook his head.

“Then, I’ll just-“

“Wait. Your number. Give me your number before you go.”

Shang Qinghua looked a bit bewildered but acquiesced. After he gave Mobei-Jun his number, he stood and gave Mobei-Jun a nervous smile.

“I hope you get better soon,” he said. Then he headed to the door, paused in the threshold to give Mobei-Jun one last look over his shoulder, and disappeared out the room.

Mobei-Jun saved his number under the contact name “Wife.” That is what who Shang Qinghua would be to him eventually, even if he didn’t know it yet.

He would make sure that his angel would be his.

(AN: After this, MBJ starts low-key stalking SQH. SQH notices that someone is stalking him when he finds a new phone sitting on his nightstand. He realizes it’s Mobei-Jun when he sees Mobej-Jin’s number is the only one already saved to the phone. Rather than seeing it as the giant red flag it is, SQH is charmed and immediately texts MBJ with his new phone. They’re both super unhinging about each other (like in canon lol) and SQH ends up moving in with MBJ within a couple of months, quits his day job, and becomes a full time author (and sugar baby).

I might write the rest someday because I LOVE moshang being unhinged about each other lol)

[neeeooon]

haiaiaiia I just had this idea but I can't write so here I am <33

imagine you adopt a black cat (guess where this is going :p) and you fall asleep with it on your chest and in the middle of the night it turns human (chigiri my princess) so you wake up hugging him (ok idk anm if you can turn this into a masterpiece 🙏🙏)

also im destroyed cz of chapter 300 💔💔

Thank uuuu feel free to ignore :)

HAHA he’s soooo black cat coded this is perfect (i am not ready to talk about 300 i am unwell someone do a wellness check in 2 days j)

two for one deal

chigiri hyoma & gn!reader. crack, chigiri can shapeshift

you’d always wanted a pet growing up, even after you moved out and started dating. however, your jerk of an ex was allergic to all things cute and happy, so the minute you kicked him out of your life, you booked an appointment with your town’s rescue center. you weren’t exactly looking for a replacement, as your ex hardly ever cuddled you, but you wanted to care for something and have it keep you company.

the lady behind the register handed you the paperwork you’d filled out before your visit. “you got approved!” she beamed. “so, any particular type of cat you’re looking for?”

you smiled at her enthusiasm and let her lead you further into the shelter. “not exactly… i was hoping to see them all and connect with one!”

her eyes sparkled as she nodded, and soon you were in the cat section. she stood in the corner, organizing toys and treats, to give you some privacy in your search.

if you could, you would have taken every single one of those cats home, even the ones that didn’t want anything to do with you. “i’m seriously gonna be a crazy cat person…” you grumbled under your breath, and that was when you stumbled across the next cage.

you had to lean closer to see him, as his dark coat blended into the back of the kennel. he sat still and stared at you like you were an inconvenience. like his time here was temporary, and if you didn’t take him home, he’d find a way to break out. the thought made you smile as you flipped through his chart.

“oh, that’s peanut. he’s new!” the lady said when she saw you looking. “he was rescued after tormenting some kids during their soccer match a few days ago… but princess over here is lovely—“

“i’ll take him.” you don’t know what compelled you to say it, but the way that cat stared at you made you feel like he wanted you to rescue him, too.

the lady chuckled, almost nervously, and added, “i should warn you, he does not like being touched. he can get violent…”

you poked a finger through the cage door, and peanut walked up and ran his head against your nail. a beam of pride filled your chest, and the lady clapped her hands. “well! i’ll get his adoption paperwork ready for you.”

☆ 🐈‍⬛

you stared at peanut, who looked very unsatisfied with his setup. you bought the bed ahead of time and realized now that that was a mistake.

the bed was peachy pink and filled with half a dozen cat toys shaped like various foods and animals. "sorry," you apologized under the cat's harsh eyes. "i thought you'd be... not a boy."

already, you were unsure if getting a cat was a good idea after all. peanut refused to eat any of the food the shelter recommended for him, but he looked so thin that you gave in and tore up pieces of your dinner for him. he nuzzled against your leg after that, and you thought that meant you were friends, until he saw the bed and hated you again.

"it's too late to get a new bed," you explained. "just sleep there for tonight. a bed is a bed. plus, aren't cats colored blind?"

he blinked slowly at you. you shrank back and crawled into your own bed.

were you really going to let yourself be bullied by a cat? you tisked and turned your lamp off. "good night, peanut."

you were almost asleep when you felt a gentle thump at your feet. peeking an eye open, you saw peanut walking over to your face before stopping at your stomach. he climbed up, made bread on your ribs for a few minutes, and finally curled himself against you.

ignoring the warmth that filled you and the joy of acceptance, you closed your eyes for the night.

☆ 🐈‍⬛

peanut wasn't the biggest cat out there, but you didn't expect him to be so heavy. sometime during the night, he'd migrated from your stomach to your chest. still half asleep, you stroked his fur and hummed, "morning, peanut."

"good morning."

you froze. from the feel of it, so did he.

slowly lifting your head, you screamed when you found a man curled up against you. a man with bright red hair and sleepy eyes, but a man nonetheless. "what the—how did you get in here? where's my cat?!"

the man sat up, looking vaguely confused, as he stuck his arms out in front of him and wiggled his fingers. you scrambled away from him, clutching one of your many blankets to your chest. "g-get out, perv!"

the man rolled his eyes and poked each of his toes next. "i'm not a perv. you invited me into your house."

"i did no such thing!"

he looked over and blinked lazily at you. something about the way he was judging you felt familiar, and you were suddenly feeling defensive. "this is my house! what are you, a vampire? i didn't invite anyone in."

the man rolled another one of your blankets over his hips and sighed. "you don't happen to have any of your ex's clothes lying around, do you?"

you felt the color drain from your cheeks. "how... who are you?" you hadn't even told your friends that you dumped your sorry excuse of an ex yet. the only people who knew were you, your ex, and...

your eyes went round. "no way. absolutely not. i'm dreaming, this is a dream." but even after searching everywhere, peanut was nowhere to be found.

when you returned to your room, the man was dressed in a loose pair of your ex's sweats and a t-shirt three sizes too big. it showed too much of his bony collarbones and shoulders. he grinned, and you caught the flash of fangs you were very familiar with (peanut bit you while you were sharing your dinner with him).

shifting your weight between your feet, you nervously asked, "peanut?"

"chigiri, actually. but yeah. surprise."

your head felt light. "how?"

"i actually don't know," chigiri confessed in an amused voice. "i mean, i used to be able to change at will, but i've been stuck as a cat for a few weeks now. not as fun as it sounds, by the way."

"i never said that sounds fun..." you shook your head and pressed both hands to your face. "um... i don't really know what to do. i think i threw the cat toy receipts away, so i doubt they'll let me get my money back."

chigiri stared at you. "your cat just turned into a seriously attractive man, and you're worried about money?"

you looked appalled. "do you have bills to pay? no. you ate half my dinner, which was expensive, by the way. and 'seriously attractive'... someone's vain." but that was expected. peanut was definitely a diva, and this guy was peanut.

sensing your hesitance, chigiri stayed on the other side of the bed as he said, "i won't lie, there isn't a place for me to go. i can get a job if you let me stay; help you pay for rent or whatever."

sighing, you let your hand slide from your forehead to the side of your neck. you adopted peanut, not a human, but you promised to care for and protect him. no matter how weird it was, the idea of throwing him out made you uncomfortable.

sucking in a breath, you locked eyes with chigiri. "you're staying on the couch. and i expect you to cover half the rent starting next month. gives you enough time to get a job."

chigiri's grin was so large it flashed his sharp canines. "done."

"okay. now... should i call you chigiri, or peanut?"

[wbbfannnnnn13]

Almost Always // Chapter 16

A/N: Finally finished this chapter, low key was just feeling some type of way, so this is a pretty steamy chapter... but there is still plot I promise! We're getting close to the end of the series, probably going to make the next 2 chapters a little longer to close it out at 18, but we'll see, sometimes I'll get random ideas while writing. Also shoutout to the anon who came up with the idea for the end of this chapter :)

WC: 5.7K+

Warnings: Minors DNI, Smut (like most of this chapter is just that so sorry if you aren't into that -- I haven't written it much, but sometimes it just be fun to so yeah), Cussing

Chapter 16: Always Been Yours 

The food containers were still open, their contents half-finished, crumpled napkins and wooden chopsticks strewn across Paige’s coffee table like soft remnants of a night that hadn’t rushed. A half-burned candle flickered beside an empty water glass, its wax pooling slow and lazy in the dish. The playlist hummed low in the background—smooth, crackling R&B threading beneath the city noise outside, like the room had found its own pulse.

The TV was off. Phones untouched. No distractions left—just the two of them, curled into the couch like gravity had drawn them back together on instinct. Their legs were tangled in that effortless, familiar way. The scent of sesame, jasmine rice, and melted candle wax clung to the air like memory. Everything around them felt lived-in again. Like the pause had ended and they were finally letting themselves press play.

Azzi leaned back against the armrest, her legs stretched across the couch and tangled with Paige’s. A half-laugh slipped from her lips—soft, easy, like the echo of something funny Paige had said a minute ago. But it didn’t reach her eyes. Not fully. There was a flicker there, something too alert, like her mind hadn’t let go of the last thread of silence between them.

“So…” Paige started, voice low, thumb rubbing over Azzi’s knee like she was grounding them both. “The press conference.”

Azzi’s jaw tensed. “You watched the whole thing?”

Paige nodded, tucking her hair behind her ear. “I saw it when it started making the rounds. You were a little fired up, but nothing wrong with that. 

Azzi let out a short laugh. “Tell that to the media.”

“I’m not talking about them,” Paige said quietly. “I’m talking about me.”

That gave Azzi pause. Her gaze dropped to her hands. “I didn’t mean for it to come out like that. I wasn’t trying to cause anything… it just happened. I was tired and frustrated, and the question hit harder than I thought. And then it was everywhere.”

“They always ask about me,” Paige said, quieter this time. “Even when it’s not about me.”

Azzi let out a short laugh, no humor in it. “Story of my life, right?”

Paige’s voice dropped. “I wish it wasn’t. I really do.”

Azzi studied her for a moment. “It gets tiring, you know? Always feeling like I’m the afterthought. Like I have to push just to be noticed. I didn’t mean for it to come out like that… but maybe I needed to let it out.”

Paige nodded again, slower this time. “I know. And for what it’s worth, I think the people who matter understood…”

Azzi chewed on her lip. “I wasn’t sure if you’d be upset. Like I threw shade at you or something.”

“You didn’t,” Paige said firmly. “You were telling your truth. I can respect that, even if it stings a little.”

Azzi tilted her head. “It stung?”

Paige exhaled. “Not because of what you said. Because it reminded me how much I’ve taken for granted. I’m always saying I’ve got your back, but I haven’t always stepped out of the spotlight when I should have.”

“That’s not your fault,” Azzi said, her voice softening. “People gravitate to you naturally. You’ve always had that kind of light. And I love that about you.”

“I don’t want my light to dim yours,” Paige said.

Azzi shook her head, voice steady now. “It doesn’t. But I think I needed to say it out loud to believe that. And maybe to remind you too.”

They let the silence stretch, not awkward, just full—like the air between them needed time to recalibrate. Outside, a siren wailed faintly in the distance, and somewhere below, a dog barked once, sharp and distant. Paige’s thumb was still tracing lazy circles against Azzi’s knee.

Azzi leaned her head back, eyes on the ceiling. “You know… I used to think being next to you meant I had to shrink a little. Make space.”

Paige turned, her brows drawing together.

“But tonight?” Azzi said, glancing at her with the faintest smile. “Doesn’t feel like that.��

Paige’s hand stilled. A slow smile tugged at her mouth, something quiet and grateful blooming in her chest.

“I’m really proud of you,” she said.

Azzi bumped her knee against Paige’s. “Even after I completely crashed out?”

Paige snorted. “Especially after that.”

Azzi laughed, the sound finally real. Paige grinned, the tension between them softening into something easier, lighter.

And then Paige leaned back, resting her arm behind Azzi’s shoulders, a teasing glint in her eye.

“Well,” she said, “guess it’s official. I’m in my WAG era now.”

Azzi raised an eyebrow, amused. “Your what?”

Paige grinned. “WAG era. You know—wives and girlfriends. Courtside fits. Sappy Instagram captions. Giving unsolicited but elite game notes between film sessions.”

Azzi laughed, shaking her head as she leaned into Paige’s side. “You really giving me notes now?”

“Oh, I’ve got a whole doc saved,” Paige said, grinning. “Stuff your coaches don’t even see.”

Azzi tilted her head. “You been watching my film like that?”

Paige nodded, her voice dropping just slightly. “Every game. Can’t help it. I see things. Like when your shot’s just a little off because your balance is too front-loaded. Or how you hesitate when your defender goes under the screen—but you shouldn’t. You’ve got the range.”

Azzi stilled, the smile lingering, but her eyes softening. “You really do that?”

“I know your game,” Paige said. “I’ve always known it. Probably better than I know my own.”

Azzi didn’t respond right away, but her hand found Paige’s where it rested on her leg. She laced their fingers together, slow and intentional.

“You know how hot that is, right?”

Paige’s laugh was low, surprised. “Giving scouting tips?”

Azzi leaned in, their foreheads nearly brushing. “Yeah. That. You believing in me like that.”

Paige’s thumb brushed over the back of her hand. “Always have.”

Azzi’s eyes dropped, just for a second—to the faded TEAM AZZI jersey hanging loose on Paige’s frame, like it belonged there all along. Her breath hitched.

“I can’t believe you still have that,” she said, her voice soft, touched.

Paige glanced down, then back up, a small smile tugging at her lips. “Couldn’t get rid of this.”

Azzi shook her head, smile growing. “You’re unreal.”

Paige leaned in, her voice warm and low. “Only when it comes to you.”

The space between them pulsed with something heavier now—tender, sure, but charged, like a current they’d both stopped trying to resist. Time felt slower, quieter, like the world beyond Paige’s living room had slipped into another frequency.

Paige’s free hand drifted to Azzi’s waist, her touch feather-light, deliberate. Not rushed. Like she was learning the shape of her all over again, memorizing muscle and breath and warmth. Her fingertips traced just beneath the hem of Azzi’s sweatshirt, brushing against skin—soft, electric, familiar.

Azzi inhaled, slow and shallow, her eyes never leaving Paige’s. Her heart thudded in her chest, not from surprise but from the gravity of it—how every inch closer felt like something she’d been aching toward for months.

Paige leaned in, their knees still touching, her forehead nearly resting against Azzi’s. She didn’t speak. She didn’t have to. Everything was in her touch, in the way her thumb circled slow and steady over Azzi’s side, grounding and inviting all at once.

The silence between them wasn’t empty. It was full of heat and history and want.

Azzi tilted her head, her voice barely a whisper. “So what’s the next play?”

Paige leaned in until her lips nearly brushed Azzi’s. “Pretty sure it starts with this.”

Azzi’s hand lifted, fingers finding the curve of Paige’s jaw, anchoring there like she needed something solid. Her thumb brushed over Paige’s cheekbone.

Paige turned her head just enough to press a kiss against Azzi’s palm, a breath of contact that made Azzi’s stomach twist in that aching, familiar way. Like falling, but steadier. Like breathing, but deeper.

Azzi leaned in first, closing the last sliver of space between them, her lips brushing against Paige’s—tentative, testing. A question asked in touch rather than words.

Paige answered without hesitation, tilting her head and pressing in with a slow, deliberate kiss that sent a shiver sliding down Azzi’s spine. It was nothing like urgency. It was a slow burn, the kind of kiss that deepened with every heartbeat, with every tiny shift closer.

Paige’s hand splayed wider at Azzi’s waist, tugging her gently across the couch until Azzi was half-straddling her, knees bracketing Paige’s hips. Their bodies slotted together like they were made for it. Because they were.

Azzi pulled back just enough to look at her, their foreheads brushing, breaths mingling in the slivered space between them.

“I missed you,” she whispered, voice raw around the edges.

Paige’s hands were already moving, slow and deliberate, gliding up her back beneath the loose hem of her shirt. Her touch sparked across Azzi’s skin like memory made real. “I’m right here, baby,” she whispered back.

Azzi kissed her again—deeper this time. It was messier now, more certain, like neither of them wanted to waste another second pretending they didn’t need this. Her hands slipped beneath Paige’s jersey, dragging up the fabric until her fingers brushed bare skin.

Paige let out a soft, breathy laugh against her mouth. “Wait,” she murmured, smiling. “Aren’t we supposed to be working through our emotional baggage or something?”

Azzi pulled back just far enough to smirk. “You wanna pause and unpack feelings while I’m on top of you?”

Paige tilted her head, grinning. “I mean... no… but we gotta talk about all the feelings and shit at some point.”

Azzi laughed, low and warm. “Okay, well... here’s one feeling I can definitely name.”

She shifted her hips, slow and deliberate, until her body pressed flush against Paige’s. Paige inhaled sharply, her grin faltering into something needier.

“Thought so,” Azzi said, voice soft and smug.

Paige’s hands flexed at her waist, pulling her closer. “You’re a menace,” she murmured.

“And you love it.”

“Yeah,” Paige whispered, just before Azzi kissed her again—longer this time, deeper, tongue brushing against hers in a way that made her head fall back against the cushions.

Their laughter dissolved into something heavier, the space between them folding in until there was nothing left to hold back. The conversation could wait. 

Azzi leaned back to take her in—bare skin, steady eyes, that open, unguarded smile that was only ever for her.

Paige let her look, let her linger, her hands gliding slow and steady up Azzi’s thighs, under her sweatshirt now, mapping familiar territory.

Azzi shivered at the contact, not from cold but from how easily Paige made her feel known. Undone.

“You’re so beautiful,” Paige said, voice hoarse with it.

Azzi bent down and kissed her again, harder this time, pouring all the months of missed moments and the weight of uncertainty into the press of her mouth. Paige’s hands found their way under her shirt, pushing it higher until Azzi had to pull back just long enough to yank it off over her head, tossing it somewhere behind the couch.

They kissed like they had time to make up for. Like they had something to prove and something to promise all at once.

Paige’s hands explored without hurry, fingers trailing down Azzi’s back, over the curve of her hips, savoring. Azzi’s breath hitched as Paige's mouth moved from her lips to her jaw, to the pulse point just beneath her ear, each kiss a quiet vow.

Azzi pulled her even closer, no space left between them, her hands threading through Paige’s hair as Paige mapped a slow, aching path down her neck.

She was dizzy from it—in the best way. Like Paige was everywhere at once: hands, mouth, breath, heartbeat.

“Paige,” Azzi whispered, like a prayer, a plea, a homecoming.

Paige pulled back just enough to look at her, her thumb brushing Azzi’s lower lip.

“I still can’t believe you’re mine,” she murmured, voice thick with awe.

Azzi smiled, soft and sure, pressing her forehead to Paige’s. “I’ve always been yours.”

Paige kissed her again, and then they were moving together—shedding the last of the space, the last of the clothes—until it was only skin and breath and the quiet symphony of two hearts finally, finally beating in rhythm.

Azzi was the first to lean back, just far enough to let her eyes trail over Paige—bare, warm, flushed from neck to hip in candlelight. She traced her fingers lightly down the center of her chest, watching the goosebumps rise in their wake.

“God, you’re unreal,” Azzi murmured.

Paige’s hands slid along the backs of her thighs, pulling her closer again, until Azzi was straddling her completely, pressed flush and trembling in all the right ways. “So are you,” Paige whispered, voice husky. “You always have been.”

Azzi leaned in to kiss her again—deeper this time, more searching. Her hips rolled, instinctive and aching, and Paige’s breath caught, fingers digging gently into her skin.

Paige’s mouth broke from hers only to move lower, dragging slow, open-mouthed kisses along Azzi’s throat, her collarbone, her chest—each one softer than the last, like she was marking every inch with devotion, not desperation.

Azzi’s head tipped back, a shaky breath catching in her chest, her whole body attuned to every point where Paige touched her. Paige’s hands moved deliberately, one sliding up to cup the swell of her breast, thumb brushing over her nipple in slow, teasing circles that made Azzi’s stomach tighten. The other hand gripped her hip, firm but coaxing, guiding her into a slow, grinding rhythm against her lap. Azzi gasped, a low, helpless sound rising from the back of her throat, her hands threading into Paige’s hair, tugging just enough to ground herself as her body arched into Paige’s touch. Heat pooled low in her belly, each roll of her hips sending sparks skittering up her spine, each brush of Paige’s thumb setting her nerves alight like a fuse burning closer and closer to detonation.

“You feel so good,” Paige breathed, her voice barely more than air.

Azzi nodded, too far gone for words. She could only feel—Paige’s mouth closing around her nipple, warm and wet and consuming, her tongue flicking in slow strokes before her teeth scraped lightly against the sensitive peak. The jolt of pleasure ripped through Azzi’s body, making her hips stutter against Paige’s lap. 

Paige groaned low in her throat at the reaction, the sound vibrating through Azzi’s chest and making her whimper. Her hand never stopped moving, gripping Azzi’s waist, guiding her grinding rhythm harder, slower, deeper… anchoring her even as she came undone. Every suck, every graze of teeth, every slow, punishing roll of her hips dragged Azzi closer to the edge, her thighs trembling.

When Paige laid her back on the couch cushions, Azzi went willingly, pulling her down with her. They moved together like muscle memory, like instinct honed over the years spent together. Her thighs fell open instinctively, wide and wanting, her body practically pulling her under. She wrapped her legs around Paige’s hips, the motion fluid—her heels digging in like she couldn’t stand to be apart for even a second.

“Fuck,” Azzi breathed, head falling back, fingers twisting into the couch cushion, chest rising and falling like she’d just sprinted the length of the court.

Paige groaned against her neck, the sound low and wrecked. Her hands slid up Azzi’s legs, slow and firm, thumbs brushing dangerously close to the heat between her thighs. Every movement was intentional. Focused. Like Paige knew exactly what Azzi needed and was going to make her feel every second of it.

Paige shifted lower between Azzi’s legs, the couch dipping with her movement. Nothing between them now—no fabric, no friction lost in layers—just bare skin and the kind of tension that tasted like electricity in the air. Azzi was open beneath her, thighs already slick and parted around Paige’s shoulders like her body had been waiting for this.

Paige dragged her palms up Azzi’s thighs again, slower this time, fingers curling just slightly to grip and ground her, to hold her there. She pressed a kiss to the crease where thigh met hip, then another—so close it made Azzi gasp, hips twitching up, needing more.

“Paige,” she breathed, not even a plea—just her name, wrecked and wanting.

Paige didn’t make her wait anymore.

She leaned in and dragged her tongue through Azzi’s folds in one slow, unbroken stroke—flat, deliberate, claiming. A low moan vibrated from Paige’s throat at the taste, like it knocked the air from her lungs. Azzi cried out, sharp and unguarded, her hips jerking up into the contact. Her fingers flew to Paige’s hair, fisting tight, not to guide her—just to hold on. To feel.

But Paige didn’t stop. Didn’t flinch. She ate like she was starving, slow and thorough, her tongue exploring every inch of Azzi’s slick heat. She circled her clit with maddening patience, then flattened her tongue and licked harder, deeper, drawing out each sound that fell from Azzi’s mouth with ruthless precision. Her mouth moved like she knew every response before Azzi gave it—like she'd memorized the way her body spiraled toward climax and was in no rush to get her there.

Azzi was soaked, her thighs trembling on either side of Paige’s head, her whole body tensed and straining. Every flick of Paige’s tongue, every shift in pressure made her moan louder, higher, until she was panting, broken open beneath her.

Paige groaned and sealed her mouth around Azzi’s clit, sucking her in deep, her lips and tongue working in sync—wet, focused, relentless. Her grip on Azzi’s thighs tightened, fingers digging in as she held her still, letting Azzi grind against her face with helpless, desperate rhythm.

Azzi was losing it.

Her head tipped back, eyes squeezed shut, one hand still tangled in Paige’s hair while the other reached back, scrabbling for something to anchor her. “F-fuck, Paige—don't stop—please—”

Paige didn’t. Instead, she groaned against her, voice husky and reverent. “God, you taste so fucking good…”

Saying it out loud only seemed to spur her on more, flicking her tongue faster now, humming softly against her until Azzi’s entire body shook, legs quivering around her ears, every muscle tight and ready to snap. Paige kept her there, right on the edge, until Azzi gasped her name again, raw and shaking, and then—

Paige slid one hand from Azzi’s trembling thigh to between her legs, her fingers slick immediately from how wet she was. She teased her entrance with two fingers, slow and deliberate, feeling Azzi’s body flutter and clench at the anticipation. Then, with a steady, devastating pressure, she pushed inside.

Azzi broke.

A raw, helpless sob escaped her throat as her walls tightened around Paige’s fingers, her whole body bowing up off the couch. Paige didn’t give her time to recover—she found a rhythm immediately, firm and sure, thrusting deep and curling her fingers just right, dragging against that spot that made Azzi see stars.

“Oh my god—Paige—" Azzi gasped, voice cracking as her hips rolled in frantic, uneven circles, chasing the pressure, the pleasure.

Paige’s mouth stayed locked to her clit, tongue circling in slow spirals that matched the rhythm of her fingers—press, curl, retreat—over and over until Azzi was spiraling, caught between the overwhelming drag of her mouth and the relentless thrust of her hand.

Azzi was gone.

Her back arched violently, thighs shaking around Paige’s head, heels digging into the couch cushions as if she could anchor herself against the onslaught. One hand yanked Paige’s hair, hard enough to make her groan into her, the other grabbing at the edge of the sofa, knuckles white with the effort of holding on.

The heat inside her coiled tighter, impossibly tight, until it felt like every nerve ending in her body was on fire, every breath a broken moan.

“Paige—fuck—I’m gonna—” she cried, voice wrecked, desperate.

Paige moaned against her, the sound sending vibrations straight through Azzi’s core, and that was it.

Azzi shattered.

Her orgasm slammed into her, fast and brutal, ripping a ragged scream from her chest. Her body convulsed, thighs squeezing tight around Paige’s head, spine arching like a drawn bow before collapsing back into the cushions. She came hard, clenching around Paige’s fingers, her whole body trembling, helpless against the waves tearing through her.

Paige didn’t stop. She rode it out with her, fingers still thrusting slow and deep, tongue still dragging lazy, grounding circles against her clit, coaxing every last aftershock until Azzi was sobbing into the crook of her arm, too wrecked to speak, too full to breathe.

Only when Azzi’s legs finally went limp around her did Paige ease her mouth away, withdrawing her fingers with a slow, careful slide that left Azzi whimpering at the sudden loss.

When Paige finally pulled back, her mouth was wet, her lips swollen and parted, her eyes glazed with heat and something deeper, something that felt dangerously close to reverence. She swiped the back of her hand across her mouth, slow and sure, then tilted her head with a crooked smile. “Did I do okay?” she asked, voice low and teasing—like she didn’t need the answer, but wanted to hear it anyway.

Azzi let out a breath that was half-laugh, half-moan, her fingers still tangled in the sheets. “You know damn well you did,” she said, her voice wrecked and full of wonder. “Stop fishing for compliments and come back here.”

Slowly, Paige crawled back up her body, dragging open-mouthed kisses along Azzi’s stomach, her ribs, the underside of her breasts. She kissed every inch like she couldn’t stand the thought of leaving any part of her untouched, like she was stitching her back together one kiss at a time.

Azzi threaded her fingers through Paige’s hair the second she was close enough, tugging her up the rest of the way, pulling her into a kiss that was messy and all-consuming. She could taste herself on Paige’s tongue—salty, slick, electric—but it only made her moan into her mouth, deepening it, needing her closer, needing all of her.

Paige kissed her back just as hungrily, her hands cradling Azzi’s face, like she was something too precious to hold roughly. Azzi could feel the tremble still running through Paige’s body—the leftover tension, the want—and it only made her heart beat harder against her ribs.

When they finally broke apart, breathless, their foreheads pressed together, noses brushing in the smallest, sweetest touch.

“God, I love you,” Azzi whispered, her voice thick with everything she couldn’t say out loud.

Paige’s smile was soft and wrecked and impossibly full of love. She tucked a hand into her curls and kissed the side of her head. “I love you. So much.”

They stayed like that, tangled and breathless, until Azzi’s hands began to wander again, slow and sure and full of promise.

And Paige let her.

She lay back, one arm still loosely around Azzi’s shoulders, the other sliding across her lower back. Her chest rose and fell beneath Azzi’s touch, soft breaths that caught slightly as Azzi kissed her collarbone, then lower, retracing the path Paige had taken not long before, but with her own rhythm. Her own intent.

Azzi shifted until she was hovering over her, eyes locked with Paige’s, lips brushing just beneath her jaw. “I want to take my time,” she whispered, voice low and steady. “I want to memorize you.”

“You already have,” Paige murmured back, dazed and aching. “But I won’t stop you.” Then, grinning, she added, “Just don’t take too long, you know patience isn’t my strong suit.”

Azzi smiled—barely there, soft and wrecked—and then kissed her. Slow. Deep. Like she was trying to carve herself into Paige’s memory cell by cell.

She kissed down her neck, her chest, her stomach, dragging her hands along the curve of Paige’s sides, pausing only to drink in the way Paige moved under her touch—how her fingers flexed against the fabric of the couch, how her breath hitched when Azzi’s tongue flicked against her skin.

Azzi didn’t rush. She worshipped.

When she reached Paige’s thighs, she kissed the inside of one, then the other, and smiled against the skin when Paige whispered something half-sounded, half-broken.

She looked up, eyes meeting Paige’s. “You good?”

Paige gave a shaky laugh, her hand threading through Azzi’s curls. “If I wasn’t, that’d be on me.”

Azzi kissed the inside of her thigh again, slower this time, higher. “Just checking.”

And then she moved.

Azzi’s tongue met Paige’s center in one long, slow stroke—broad, heavy, deliberate—dragging through her folds with a pressure that made Paige’s hips jerk violently off the couch. A ragged gasp tore from Paige’s mouth, and her hand flew to Azzi’s hair, not just holding, but gripping hard, yanking her closer with a rough, desperate pull like she couldn’t stand even an inch of distance between them.

Azzi groaned into her, the sound vibrating right through Paige’s body, making her legs tremble around Azzi’s shoulders. Without hesitation, Azzi dipped her tongue lower, teasing at Paige’s entrance, swirling and pressing in, shallow and slow, until Paige let out a broken sob, her whole body shaking beneath her. She pulled back just enough to flatten her tongue and lick up through her folds again, relentless, savoring every slick, needy reaction she coaxed out of her.

She knew Paige too well—every sharp inhale, every arch of her back, the way her thighs would start to tremble before she completely lost control. And Azzi was merciless now. She built it slow and brutal: teasing flicks, then firmer, deeper strokes. Her hand slid under Paige’s thigh, gripping hard, tilting her hips higher, giving herself even better access.

She never looked away. Not once.

Azzi locked eyes with her, tongue lashing over her clit now, sucking her into her mouth with a deep, greedy pull that made Paige’s head fall back hard against the cushions.

“Azzi—fuck—” Paige gasped, the sound wrecked, guttural, her hips bucking helplessly against Azzi’s mouth.

Azzi moaned low and obscene against her, holding her hips down as Paige thrashed beneath her. Her other hand slid up Paige’s stomach, rough and claiming, splaying across her ribs, pinning her there, forcing her to feel every second of it.

“You’re so fucking beautiful like this,” Azzi growled against her, her voice thick and wrecked.

Paige couldn’t answer. Couldn’t think. Her body was locking up, hips stuttering wildly, moans turning into breathless, broken whimpers. Her legs trembled uncontrollably, her muscles seizing under the brutal, unrelenting pressure building higher and higher inside her.

And then she broke.

Paige came with a sob that ripped straight from her chest, her body snapping taut like a wire, one hand still yanking Azzi’s hair with shaking, brutal force as the other clung uselessly to the cushions. Pleasure crashed over her, drowning her, her whole body writhing through every wave Azzi pulled from her with her mouth, her tongue, her hands still holding her steady, grounding her while she shattered.

Azzi didn’t stop—just stayed with her, easing her down, kissing her through the aftershocks until Paige finally collapsed back into the couch, gasping, wrecked, her body trembling with every shallow, unsteady breath.

Azzi kissed her thigh one last time, then climbed back up slowly, gently, brushing sweaty strands away from Paige’s temple as she curled against her.

They stayed like that, tangled and warm, breathing each other in.

Paige opened her eyes, dazed and still catching her breath. “That was—”

Azzi kissed her. “Yeah,” she said. “I know.”

Paige blinked, then let out a slow, contented laugh. “You trying to kill me?”

Azzi grinned, brushing her nose against hers. “Little bit.”

They lay in silence after that—bare, glowing, the candlelight flickering low and soft. The world outside felt far away. All that existed was this—skin, breath, heartbeats synced again after too long apart.

Eventually, they stirred, limbs slow and heavy, like moving through water. Still dazed from the gravity of being back in each other’s orbit, they crawled beneath the sheets, laughter soft and breath hitching when their skin brushed again. Paige pulled Azzi in close, foreheads touching, fingers laced at their chests.

Nothing else was said. Just the quiet settling of something whole.

Sleep took them like that—warm, wrapped in each other, the ache finally quiet.

********

Morning came slow.

Light filtered in through the half-open blinds, painting soft golden stripes across the bedroom. The air felt still, warm, thick with the lingering haze of last night—skin, sweat, something sweeter in the spaces between. 

Azzi woke first.

Paige was still curled beside her, facing the window, one arm draped loosely across the sheets, her face half-buried in the pillow. Her hair was a mess—soft and wild from sleep, still tangled from Azzi’s hands the night before. There were marks, too—small, pink, fading already, but hers. Evidence of everything they’d said with touch before words caught up.

She looked peaceful. Like sleep was holding her gently.

Azzi blinked slowly, the morning light soft against her face, her body still heavy with afterglow. Her thighs ached. So did her jaw. Her skin felt warm in all the places Paige had kissed, had held, had taken her apart. But it wasn’t discomfort—it was something she wanted to hold onto. A lived-in ache. The kind that made the night before feel more real, more permanent. Like a page turned down in a book, she didn’t want to lose her place in.

Careful not to wake her, Azzi slipped out of bed. Paige stirred a little, mumbling something that never formed into words before settling again. Azzi smiled to herself, tugging on the white T-shirt draped over the chair—Paige’s shirt, soft from too many washes—and padded quietly through the apartment.

The plan wasn’t much. Just something small.

She’d grab coffee from the shop around the corner—Paige’s usual, maybe one of those buttery croissants she always claimed were “too much” and then somehow still finished. Something thoughtful. Something normal.

Her steps were quiet against the wood floors, the rhythm of her movement careful, like she didn’t want to disturb the tenderness still hanging in the air. The apartment was dim, lit only by the soft wash of morning light spilling in from the kitchen window, catching on dust motes and the edge of a candle left half-melted. It smelled like citrus and clean laundry—Paige’s scent woven into the air now, too. It was domestic. Lived-in. The kind of warmth that wrapped around you without asking. And something about that—about how right it felt—made Azzi’s chest pull tight in ways she couldn’t name.

She crossed to the dresser, tugging open the top drawer in search of clean underwear.

And then she saw it.

Tucked beneath a folded pair of socks, subtle but undeniably there—

Azzi froze.

Her hand hovered above it, fingers trembling slightly, caught in the hesitation between instinct and wonder. The air around her felt different—charged, like the pause before a question is asked that could change everything. The quiet of the apartment wasn’t hollow, but full—weighted with the echo of last night, of closeness still lingering in the sheets and on her skin. Everything else—the dresser, the soft hum of morning, the golden light bleeding in through the window—faded just enough to make space for this one suspended moment. One she hadn’t expected, but couldn’t look away from.

There it was. 

A box small enough to hide, yet heavy with possibility. And all at once, Azzi wasn’t sure if she was afraid… or if she was just stunned by the shape of a future she hadn’t let herself imagine until now.

She didn’t need to open it. Her fingers didn’t even graze the lid. She already knew what it was.

She knew from the shape. She knew from the weight in her chest. She knew from the way every single part of her started buzzing, like her body was trying to have six reactions at once.

Her heart picked up speed. She glanced over her shoulder toward the bed, half-expecting Paige to be standing there, watching her. But she was still asleep. Still quiet. 

It’s probably not even what I think, she told herself. It could be earrings. It could be something from her mom. Could be anything.

But she knew better.

She reached out and picked it up, slowly, carefully, like it might burn her. It was light. The light blue velvet soft against her palm. Her thumb brushed the edge of the lid, not opening it, but thinking about opening it—fighting herself with every second that passed.

She didn’t want to overthink it.

Didn’t want to pick it apart or rush toward some answer she wasn’t meant to have yet.

So she set the box back exactly where she found it, tucking it beneath the socks with gentle, almost reverent fingers. Then she closed the drawer—softly, firmly—like sealing a secret she wasn’t ready to open.

Not yet.

Because maybe it was what she thought it was. And maybe that wasn’t terrifying. Maybe it was just… a lot. A future pressed into velvet. A truth still waiting for its right moment.

She stood there for a beat, steadying herself. Then smoothed the hem of Paige’s shirt down over her thighs and turned toward the bathroom, moving on instinct. She brushed her hair back into a loose bun, splashed cold water on her face, and dabbed the corners of her eyes where sleep still lingered. No makeup, no real effort—just enough to feel like herself again.

She found clean underwear, tugged on leggings, slipped into Paige’s slides by the door. Everything was a little too big, a little too lived-in, and somehow perfect.

When she finally stepped outside, the cool morning air met her with a kind of clarity she hadn’t expected—crisp, grounding, alive. It helped.

[toxicrelief]

Crawling Back to You

Chapter fifteen

Synopsis: Rex doesn’t seem to mind your company much, and you don’t mind giving it, at first.

Pairing: Rex x F!Reader

Word Count: 6.6k

Chapter: 15/?

Masterlist of all Chapters

TW: None

Note: Reader is the festering final boss. I also realized I haven’t really been offering for people to join the taglist, so let me know if you want me to add you!

Rejection was starting to get easier. Maybe it was because you had real-world experience now that you didn’t have before. Or maybe it was because you had more important things to worry about than whether a patient was going to let you heal them or not.

“I did it!” You said, almost ecstatic. You panted out a few breaths, putting your hands on your knees to try to regain your loss of oxygen.

“Did you just run here?” Cecil said dryly, handing some kind of booklet to a worker standing nearby.

“Yes!” You straightened up, still not having caught your breath. “I did it!” You repeated again, giddiness overtaking your composure.

“Don’t waste my time, kid. Did what?”

You open your mouth to answer then realize it might not be the best idea to blurt this out with everyone else around. “Oh… uh… The thing-”

He blinked at you a few times before sighing and rolling his eyes. “Alright, everyone out.” Without missing a beat the different agents and workers around the room hastily made their exit. To hold that much respect, so much immediate power. You were almost jealous; you couldn’t seem to ever get anything done without everyone around you questioning you or being suspicious. “Now, what are you talking about?”

“Viltrumite blood.” Your excitement hadn’t ebbed. “I just tested it out in the room, it’s easy- like ridiculously easy-”

“Christ, have you slept at all?”

“Yes.” You tightened your brow a bit, feeling mildly offended. “Am I allowed to be excited about something we have been working on for months or-?”

He nodded quietly, taking in the information while putting a hand over his mouth in thought. “How do you know?”

“I-” You were starting to feel a little deflated. “Well, I mean I just said, I tested it out in the training room…on the blood bag?” You wrapped your arms around you in a defensive stance. “And I felt it, yesterday I saw Mark- or Invincible or whatever. We shook hands, and I felt it. It was like he was just another person, but still, I don’t know- different.”

“Different?”

You thought carefully for a moment. “I suppose you could think about it like getting water somewhere on a trip, or just in a new place in general. The water at home you are used to, it tastes like home and you’re comfortable drinking it. Then you go somewhere new, and in other places it can taste weird, or bad even, I guess. It tastes like water, you know it’s water. But you’d rather the stuff from home.”

Cecil hummed softly, still thinking. Although you doubted he ever stopped even when he was off duty. If he ever was. “Very good, Killdeer.”

“Yeah?” You felt your excitement return a little from the direct praise.

“Yes, this is good. I want you integrated back in with the Guardians.”

“Wait, what? Already?” Your grip around your arms loosened a little, this was not at all the direction you had expected this to go.

“Yes, already. We are down three Guardians.”

“Won’t there be some resistance?” You responded quietly.

“I have spoken with the Immortal and Robot. I explained that the fainting spells are from overexertion and they took it well enough. It should get them off your back, but honestly, I’m sure it’ll still be tense.” He shifts slightly as if he isn’t sure what to say next. “Donald told me about your discussion.”

You nodded, swallowing roughly at the mention of the topic you had been avoiding thinking about since your conversation with Donald. Maybe you should be angrier with Cecil, furious that he hid it from you. You had been unhappy at the idea of it, but after talking to Donald you had received almost a type of closure. Last night you hadn’t been plagued by your repetitive nightmare. It wasn’t gone, you knew you would be seeing that grotesque imagery for a long while still to come. But now, you knew what it was. Why it happened. A part of you still blamed yourself. You should have swept the perimeter, asked Cecil if there would likely be anyone else on the premises. At the end of the day though, it had happened. You didn’t have control over it, you weren’t even conscious while doing it. But it had still happened.

Cecil had done a lot for you, at least it felt that way. He found you and encouraged your abilities. He trained you, got you a specialized room in the training facility and in the hospital. You had grown fond of him. A small voice chirped in the back of your head, was it possible you were making excuses for him? Not properly holding him accountable for anything he has done?

As if you’re the one to be holding anyone accountable.

“I am glad to see you’re…shit, I don’t know, taking it well?” He was never amazing at being sentimental or comforting. He could do it, but it seemed like he only had it in limited quantities. Saving it for widows and orphans.

You gave him a tight smile. “I manage.” After a moment of loaded silence, you spoke up again. “When should I check in with the Guardians?”

“Soon. Within the next few days is preferred.”

--

“Where did you even find this?”

“Oh, don’t get started with me, I never buy this shit.” You dropped two magazines on his lap, you had seen it for free in a random kiosk while walking outside the hospital. It was about two times smaller than the magazines Eve had brought.

“You paid money for this?” He held them up, his mouth drawn together in an almost too-intentional frown. The way his lips were slightly quivering told you that he was struggling not to laugh.

“You gonna pay me back?” You asked, sitting at the end of his bed like you had the last visit.

He opens his mouth to respond with indignation, but his words are delayed slightly as he watches you. Maybe you should have just sat in the recliner rather than right against his leg. You hadn’t even considered he might not want you to. “Well…fuck, how much were these?”

“Twenty bucks.” You lied, a small smile spreading across your face as you looked down at the booklets you had given him. They were so obviously not worth that much that it tickled you.

“Twenty- what the fuck?” He itched the section of his head that was available to him outside of the helmet contraption. “You got scammed.”

“Not my problem, is it?” You held your hand out, knowing full well he most assuredly did not have his wallet anywhere nearby.

“Just add it to my tab.” He sighs, leaning back again in his bed.

You had seen him when you first arrived this morning. Tension filling your body as you peeked through the curtains. His whole demeanor had changed at the sight of you, that same shit-eating grin that you had seen the night before spreading across his face. If he was going to be nice you were not complaining. You even found him…enjoyable? Now that he wasn’t giving you that telltale look of disgust, and spitting accusations against you, you were actually getting to know him a little. So far the conversation had mostly revolved around furniture and home décor. But this morning he even talked a little about Mark. Which you listened to with bated breath.

“Are you even listening?”

You nodded a little too quickly, with a little too much enthusiasm.

“Aw shit. You’ve got some schoolgirl crush on him, don’t you?”

“Oh, brother.” You rolled your eyes. “Have you never had a favorite hero, Rex?”

“Yes, and you’re looking at him.” He had said, looking a little bitter for the rest of your visit.

Eventually, you left to go run rounds, but now you had come back. The doctor you had been working with had shooed you away after practically tripping over you for the fifth time. Why not see just how new and improved Rex seemed to be?

You pulled your phone out in an exaggerated manner, opening your notes.

Rex’s head snapped up to watch you. “You’re not.” He uttered in disbelief

“I am.” You said, your smile grew more by the second as you typed ‘Rex: $20’ and showed the screen to him.

“Ugh. More stingy than a hooker.”

“With much less of the fun.” You laughed, putting your phone away.

“Those didn’t even cost you twenty bucks, did they?” He gave you a nasty look, but it wasn’t the same as any he had given you before. This one didn’t have the load of intention behind it. He was enjoying your company, even with all your uncertainties you knew this for sure.

You simply shrugged at him, until he let it go scoffing to himself.

“Do you want me to…” You paused, knowing it was best not to get too comfortable. Against the warning buzzers going off in your head, you decided to offer it anyway. “Do you want me to help you at all?” It was vague, you knew it was. But you also knew he would understand what you were implying.

He blinked at you, his residual smile fading slightly. “Well…”

“It’s fine really, don’t feel bad for saying no. If you ever feel bad for anything-” Fuck.

“What?” He brow drew together slightly but he didn’t say anything else, waiting for you to clarify.

“Sorry, that was- really rude, actually, shit.” Yeah, you were not making this any better. “This is just a little jarring for me.” You held your hand out at him.

“Did you just gesture to all of me?”

“Yes?” You winced, a shade of embarrassment dusting your cheeks.

He sighed, but his disposition towards you didn’t close. “I guess that makes sense.”

“You guess?”

“Yeah, I guess.” He almost snapped, a semblance of the Rex you had known poking through. “Sorry.” He said without wasting a single breath, pinching the bridge of his nose.

So, it was a conscious choice. He was choosing to be nicer. The realization of this overtook any hurt your ego might have obtained from his retort. Was this his way of apologizing for being a dirtbag to you for so long? Rather than saying it directly he just intended to pretend it never happened? You weren’t sure how the prospect of this sat with you.

“Almost broke your cover there.” You said softly, hoping your response would be well received rather than egging him on further.

He was still pinching the bridge of his nose, his eyes closed. But his lips perked up in an unmissable smile.

You felt a little more comfortable after seeing that, so you poked his leg to get his attention. His eyes opened, his gaze landing where your hand had touched then slowly traveled up to your face.

“So, what about it?”

He didn’t answer right away. His eyes drilled into you until you felt the need to look away. That unfamiliar feeling from yesterday returned briefly.

“Fine.” He rasped out with feigned reluctance. “But you’re not going to accidentally fuse this thing to my head, are you? ‘Cause I’ve already got accelerated healing and shit; I don’t have to risk it.” He pointed up to the metal contraption with his metal-enclosed stub.

You pretend to consider the possibility, then shrug. “I actually don’t know.”

“That doesn’t make me feel better.”

“Who said I was trying to make you feel better?” You met his eyes again as you chuckled. For that moment you wondered if he was remembering the first time you had almost this exact same interaction. Back in his room after you had accidentally injured him. That felt like a lifetime ago now.

“Fine, let’s get it over with, Nurse Joy.” He sat up, shaking his hand out a few times before holding it out to you.

“Okay, what is that all about?”

“You don’t know who Nurse Joy is?” He looked genuinely surprised.

“Should I?”

“Did you even have a childhood?”

You just gave him an incredulous look.

“Ugh.” He pulled his hand back as you stood up to move to the recliner. Since it had wheels it was much easier to pull up to the bedside and comfortably sit next to him rather than pulling him towards the other end of the bed. “Pokémon?”

“Pokémon?” You repeated, he had to be joking.

“Yeah, fucking Pokémon, get over it.” He grumbled quietly.

“The kid’s show?”

“As I said, did you even have a childhood?”

You laughed, he seemed surprisingly embarrassed for having been the one to give you the nickname in the first place.

“I watched some SpongeBob.” You said intentionally, knowing it would irritate him. Whether it was true or not was another story. For you to know, not for him.

“Figures.” He gives you a sideways glance which you pointedly ignore. You hold out your hand, waiting for him to willingly give you his forearm, after a second’s hesitation he gives it to you. He feels warm, you’re almost concerned he has a fever, but from how lucid he is you doubt it. You brush your thumb lightly over his skin as your fingers grasp the underside of his forearm. You could swear you felt him jerk slightly. It was possible your hands were cold to him. If he felt this warm to you, they had to be.

“You good?” Rex hadn’t breathed in since you grabbed his arm. “I know it feels uncomfortable at first, but are you really not used to it yet?”

“Are you seriously asking me if I am used to feeling my skin stitch together on its own?” You nodded curtly. “Jesus Christ.” He sat back against his bed as if he couldn’t believe what he was hearing.

You snickered before closing your eyes to concentrate.

--

“You’re back?” Bulletproof froze at the door of the training room just as he was about to enter.

You glanced back at him, internally sighing. “Yep. Surprise!”

He nodded before continuing into the room, taking residence at a machine next to you. “You enjoy your break?”

You tried and failed to hold back a scoff. “Break? What break?”

He lifted several plates onto the metal bar before settling his back against the bench. “About the best you’re going to get around here.”

“How was the whole mars thing?” Small talk didn’t bother you much, it was better than tense silence. And at least he was being amicable.

“Shitty. After all of that, I’m surprised Shapesmith is staying on the team, but I ain’t leading it so-”

The conversation lulled briefly. Shapesmith was not someone you harbored poor feelings for, but it would be a lie to say you weren’t at least mildly bitter that everything came so easy to the guy. Even worse, you didn’t think he even realized just how easy he was having it.

With everything that had been happening, and all of it happening so quickly you hadn’t sat and thought about how miserable you had been. Shit, it was hard to imagine that at one point you had been attending missions with the Guardians without resistance. You were been going on missions solo too, with zero failures so far. Well…one failure. They didn’t even know about that and still, you never felt welcome. Rae was lovely, Bulletproof was cordial. Shapesmith did whatever he does, and Amanda didn’t seem to mind you. But the people who disliked you made it known, more than the people who liked you or felt neutral did.

Immortal demanding your submission hadn’t only occurred the one time. Every mission you had with him felt like a humiliation ritual. He would pause briefings to call you out specifically, asking you to repeat what he had just said. Like a fucking schoolteacher. Kate would either glance at you out of the corner of her eye, or she’d snicker quietly. Rudy let you be, but even he would question you in briefings, asking you what exactly you were planning to do. It made sense at first, to them you were just a healer. They have no clue what else you were capable of. Even still, they knew you had enhanced strength and durability as much as the next person. The first few missions should have been proof enough.

You felt yourself starting to get worked up at the unpleasant memories. Black Sampson, although he never paid you much mind, had taken it upon himself to scold you after a stakeout. Cecil and Donald lied to you to your face. And Rex… God, Rex took up enough space in your subconscious to write a fucking book. And now he got to act a little nice and it was like it never even happened? You had played into it, been glad for the lack of hostility after so long with it. Now as you were letting it fully sink in though, you realized that you needed something. You need an apology. Even if you felt that you were responsible for what happened to him and Rae, it didn’t erase everything he had done.

Still stewing in your own corner of regrets and grudges a voice sounded off that drew you out of it. At least, for the time being.

“Well, I’m glad you’re back.”

You gave Bulletproof a genuine smile. “Me too.”

--

You had been avoiding his room all day. It was like there was a detector in your head that sent off sirens every time you neared it. You thought sleeping on it would make it easier to manage but you had simply just festered. Rex was getting better. Today they were removing the headgear after you had rendered it useless with one session. As much as you hate to admit it, your return to hospital work has had extreme benefits. All of the work you did on Rex hadn’t even left you with a residual twinge. In the moment it hurt a little, but the second you removed your hand, it was over.

‘You don’t deserve to be in the Guardians’ How many times had he used that stale line with you? You weren’t worth it.

When a break finally made its way into your schedule you decided to sit in Rae’s room. Picking at something you put together haphazardly at the cafeteria earlier. “He’s so annoying.” You continued a small rant you had started up; every added sentiment just fueled the fire. Rae was not conscious to hear any of your ramblings. However, once she finally woke up you were sure she would be happy for that.

You dropped your food back onto your tray. “Do I even have the right to still be mad?” You looked her over with a sigh, before pulling her blanket up a bit higher. She was no longer in the incubator. After a brief discussion with her doctor, he told you that she was healing at a quick rate, her body was just keeping her in a comma-like state until she was healed up better. For a moment, you considered it, it would be so easy to reach forward and press your fingertips to her arm, speed it up. Cecil had told you specifically not to accelerate her healing. He probably had his reasons, not that he ever told you them.

“I miss you.” You said it softly, a whisper. “I’m sorry I didn’t go with Rex. I don’t know if I could have stopped this, but I wish I had been able to try.” Her face showed no signs of change. The beeping on the monitor remains the same. What else had you expected?

“Sorry, I thought I heard your voice in here.” A nurse poked her head through the door, you had seen her a lot over the several days you’d been spending almost all your time at the hospital. Her name was…Stephanie? Or Stacy? Hannah?

“Yep, I’m here. Do you need me?”

“Oh, it’s no rush, Rex was just asking about you.”

“Oh, really?” You scoffed, looking back at Rae as if she could see the irony of the situation.

“…yep.” She thought you were quite odd.

“I’ll check on him in a bit, thank you.” You sighed the moment the nurse left, leaning further back into the recliner as if you could shrink out of existence. Eventually, you had to face him, you were just wasting time. “Don’t go anywhere, yeah?” Again, no response. “Tough crowd.” Hopefully, if she had been conscious, she would laugh at that rather than leave you in the awkward silence you had made for yourself.

The short walk to Rex’s room felt even shorter today, as you stood outside of it you wondered what you would say. Would you play nice? That is what you seemed to do best. You’d done it this far at least. Confrontation scared you. Eventually he would leave this room and the two of you would be on the same team again. Then again, the chance of things being awkward never had deterred him before. If it had, you wouldn’t be in this situation.

“Hello, Rex-” You started as you walked in, but you stopped as soon as you saw him. He was asleep. A hand still gripped around one of the pathetic magazines you had gotten for him. You had never seen him look so relaxed, almost peaceful.

God, you were becoming soft, you should wake him up and demand an apology, something. But you didn’t. You stepped past the curtain, took the magazine out of his hand, and placed it quietly on the pile. The hospital blankets always felt scratchy to you, maybe you should offer to bring his duvet from his room at the Headquarters. You straighten it out gently, your hand brushing over his in the gesture.

If the circumstances had been different, you wonder if the two of you could have ever been friends.

--

Groundhog Day. That’s a movie, right? The one where Bill Murray lives the same day over and over until he learns to fall in love or something like that. It’d been a while since you saw it, but it didn’t seem to matter. As far as you knew you were living it. Wake up, hospital, Guardians, hospital, Rae, apartment, sleep. Over and over. You had stopped by Rex’s room a few times since the last time, but it was oddly quiet, he would just read or asked you about your day. It wasn’t unpleasant, but you were positive he could sense your shift in demeanor. Maybe he was worried that if he talked too much you would remember that you were upset with him. Rae still wasn’t awake yet, but the doctor assured you it would be any day now.

“Check this shit out.” Rex flexed his left hand for you to admire.

“Oh, wow.” It was like a toddler showing you a bark chip at the park that was bigger than the rest.

“Oh, come on, you don’t think it’s at least a little cool?”

“It’s cool, Rex. But I can’t credit you for any of that, you literally had no hand in making it or installing it or-”

“Did you just make a pun?”

“Have you ever looked into getting diagnosed with ADHD or, I don’t know, literally anything that is wrong with you?”

He laughed, rubbing his new hand absentmindedly. “What’s got you so pissed off, hm?”

“Should I go grab a mirror?” You said it like it was a joke, but honestly, you weren’t sure why you were feeling so sour. You were suspicious it was probably because of the Groundhog Day thing though.

He’s quiet for a beat, looking down at his hand as if waiting for it to move on his own. “Fuck, I’m- well, you know.” He gestured at you helplessly.

“What?” You laugh, confusion clear in your inflection.

“You know.” He reiterates, his mouth opening and closing while he tries to formulate the words.

“I’m not good at riddles.” You raise an eyebrow at him, squinting slightly.

“Christ, well you know-”

“You already said that.”

“Hold on!” He would have been wringing his hands through his hair if it wasn’t about two centimeters long. “Well, I’m sorry.”

You sat for a second waiting for him to continue, but he didn’t. “Oh, that’s it? That’s all you were trying to say?”

“Baby steps, okay?” He puts his hands over his face like he’s being physically pained.

“…Okay?” Should you push him to see what exactly he was sorry for? Or just hope he meant for everything and let it go?

“I was an ass.”

“Was is a loose term-”

“Okay, first of all, can you let me get this out or are you just going to keep interjecting?”

You tilted your head to each side as if deciding, but you didn’t say anything else.

“I was an ass, and I still am.” He glanced over at you. “But I was really fucking shitty to you. And maybe it took a bullet to the head to fully see it, which is not amazing.”

You hummed in agreement, which earned you a scathing look.

“But either way, I regret it. You have always…carried your weight with the team. I just don’t like new things.” Once again you think he’s going to continue but he doesn’t.

“Oh, uh-” He’s almost wincing waiting for your response. “You don’t do this a lot do you?”

“Are you telling me I’m bad at apologizing?”

“I’d never dream of it.” You rolled your eyes, but you gave him a subtle smile. “I appreciate it.”

He nods at you, the edges of his mouth downturned trying to hide his own grin.

“Let me see.” You hold your hand out, gesturing for him to let you see his new hand.

“Hm?” He doesn’t move, holding his hand in the other direction further away from you.

“God, what do you think I’m going to do? Rip it off? Let me see. You were the one talking all high and mighty about it.”

“Be careful.” He apprehensively holds it out to you.

“Are you kidding me?” You blink a few times at him.

“I don’t know!” He says defensively. “It’s all new to me too.”

You shake your head at him, taking your nondominant hand and placing it under his wrist, then you use your dominant hand to trace lines over the faux skin. “It feels real, did they tell you what it’s made of?”

Rex didn’t respond with haste, his eyes focused on your hands. “Uh, I think they said something but I kind of wasn’t listening.”

“I don’t know what else I expected.” You sighed, placing your palm against his knuckles. You couldn’t feel…anything. Whatever this was there was no blood in it. It was entirely mechanical. “It feels so real.” You murmured softly, more to yourself than to Rex. “Lemme see the other one.” He held out his other hand without hesitation, flexing it slightly before you touched it. Now you had a hand on either of his. It was interesting, how much you could feel in his right versus his left. You were so focused on it that you got carried away for a moment, your fingers brushing lightly over his real hand.

“Does it feel the same?” Your voice came out in a hushed whisper, you were trailing your index fingers over the two separate hands. After a pause you looked up at Rex, who looked down at his hands as soon as you made eye contact.

“Uh…Yeah pretty- I’d say pretty similar.” He swallowed roughly.

You should let go, this was going on for longer than it should, you were going to make him uncomfortable. His hands were soft though, and when you brushed your touch over his knuckles on either hand, he flexed them, as if it was a reflex. It fascinated you. But it did something else too, it brought back that feeling. The one you’d been ignoring. You liked that the smallest touch caused his body to react in some way. In any way. You would have to put that away to think about later.

“Hello!” A chipper voice forced its way through your thoughts. Causing you to immediately draw back your hands from Rex. Shit, now it looked even worse because you had jumped so hard. The heat that was quickly manifesting on your face probably was also not doing you any extra favors.

“Hey, Eve.” Rex straightened up, clenching his fists against the hospital bed. “You bring any more magazines?”

“I don’t know how often you think that they release more of those, but it is not that often.” She sits down at the end of his bed, her gaze landing on you. “Hello again.”

“Hi.” You responded. You needed out. NOW.

“We didn’t get to properly meet, my name’s Eve, or, well it’s Samantha but everyone calls me Eve.”

You say your name in return, giving a mildly awkward nod of your head. God you were making it worse.

“I thought your name was Joy?” Eve gives Rex a quizzical look, and he doesn’t return it, suddenly very interested in the seam of his shirt.  

“So, how did you and Rex meet?” You really didn’t want to open that can of worms again.

“We were on the Teen Team together. That was a lifetime ago though.” She smiled at him.

Now, you had no reason to feel at all jealous. You didn’t even like Rex. Eve seemed really nice, and you were actually interested in learning more about her. But something about the way she sat down without hesitation, and the smiles she kept giving him were making you feel mildly queasy. You should really get more sleep. “The Teen Team?”

“You never heard of the Teen Team?” Rex spoke this time, surprise clear in his voice.

“I don’t really keep up with…well anything I guess.” You shrugged, you hadn’t really cared to keep posted until the Guardians were massacred.

“They were the best team ever!” Rex exclaimed loudly.

“No, they weren’t.” Eve rolled her eyes. “We weren’t even the number one teenager-centric team.”

“In my eyes we were.” He held his hands to his chest, fingers intertwined, as if reminiscing.

“Who else was on it?” You asked, gazing jumping between the two of them.

“It was me, Rex, Kate, and Robot.” Eve answered.

“Just the four of you?”

“Hey, that’s all we needed!”

You sat for a few more minutes listening to them reminisce. After one particular story about Rex staying at her house for a year straight you realized where you had recognized her. She had been in one of the pictures on his wall in his room. You weren’t sure exactly what their history was but, you were glad he was able to keep one friend off the team. It still made you feel oddly upset, but you were determined to be mature. There was genuinely no reason for you to feel like this anyway. It was stupid.

“Well, this has been lovely, truly, but I should really-”

“You should stay.” You glanced to the side to see Rex staring at you. His brow was creased slightly, his eyes slightly unsure. You wished he wouldn’t look at you like that.

“I’m sorry-” You were interrupted by a doctor peeking into the room.

“She’s awake.” Is all he said before passing on by.

“I’m sorry, I have to go. But it was so nice learning more about you, Eve.” You stood up.

“Likewise.” She smiled back.

You turned to Rex, who was still staring at you. As you made eye contact his jaw clenched. “I’ll see you tomorrow?”

“I’ll be here.”

--

You wanted to hug her, but you didn’t. Instead, you walked in and stood awkwardly by the curtain as a doctor and nurse duo filled her in on what had happened. She glanced over at you a few times, but in all mostly paid attention to the two who were talking. While you waited, your mind drifted back to Rex, replaying the feel of his hand against yours. Entirely normal and definitely not indicative of anything else.  

“We’ll be in first thing tomorrow morning to run some tests, m’kay?” The doctor said to Rae, which she nodded back politely to. “She’s been in here almost every day to share lunch with you. Hell of a friend.” The doctor pointed at you. You could curl up and die.

Rae’s attention focused on you as the two of them left. “Every day, huh?”

“I think they overdramatized it a day or two.” You gave her a smile.

“Did you at least save me some chips?”

“I tried, but you never seemed to want to take them from my hand.”

Rae gave a soft chuckle, wincing after the exertion.

“Can I help?” You plopped down in the recliner, wheeling it over to the bed.

Rae laughed again, holding her hands out to stop you as you eagerly moved forward. “Hold on, let me catch my breath.”

“Sorry.” You responded quickly.

“Don’t be.” She laid back, closing her eyes for a short period before opening them again. “I appreciate the offer, but I must decline.”

You open your mouth to argue. You wanted to help her, needed to.

“It has nothing to do with you.” She says before you can interject. “I don’t want to be healed yet.”

“What? Why?” You tried not to sound like you thought she was crazy.

“I need to remember this. Remember all I have had to go through as a hero, as a Guardian. Whatever.”

You nodded even though you didn’t really understand.

“It’s exhausting, isn’t it? You win one battle, but eventually, you will lose the next. Maybe not today, maybe not tomorrow. But it’ll happen. There’s no other way for this all to end.”

You blinked a few times. “It is exhausting. But doesn’t it help to know you’re making a difference?”

“What difference?” Rae’s voice still came out soft even though her words carried bite. “I have been in this business a long time and I don’t think I have ever seen it.”

“The Headquarters is too high up. Too far.” You start, leaning forward on your knees. “I have been in this hospital for months on and off, and more recently I have been here all day every day. I can see the difference in every single patient who tells me about how a superhero saved them. It can feel like every day is exactly the same, but to them-” You gesture to the rest of the hospital. “It means everything.”

Rae nods, but she still looks exhausted.

“You don’t have to continue, Rae. You can quit.”

“Like you did?” She gives you a cheeky grin, obviously having been waiting to say something to this point.

“Well…” You sucked on your teeth trying to bide your time. “Quit is such a strong word, isn’t it?”

“I knew it!” She said triumphantly. “I told Rex that you’d be back.”

“Ugh, I’m so glad you both were so worried.” You rubbed your face tiredly.

“I wasn’t worried, I knew you’d be back. You wouldn’t leave me.” Her eyes shined. “Misses-spends-every-lunch-in-my-room-while-I’m-in-a-comma.”

“Is that going to become a whole thing now?”

“Only until I forget.” She pokes you. “How is Rex doing by the way?”

“Rex?” You pretended to have to think about it. “Yeah, I think I heard he’s doing okay.”

“Don’t bullshit me.”

“He’s good. I swear.” You laugh. “He seems to be trying to turn a new leaf.”

“Well, that’s good.” She smirked before opening her mouth, “Must have found someone worth being better for.”

“Oh my god, Rae are you still on about this?”

“He asked me for your number and address so he could apologize, there’s no way that means nothing!”

“It could mean nothing!” You respond with a layer of exasperation.

“Sure.” She lengthens the word as long as she can in a tease. You chuckle in response, covering your face with both hands.

“You could always stay with me you know.” You say it after she has gotten the teasing out of her system. “If you need a break from the Guardian’s. I have a spare room.”

“I’ll keep that in mind.” She reaches out, placing a hand on yours. “Thank you.”

--

You stood in a breakroom area at the hospital, taking a quick break between patients. A soft click told you that someone had entered the room with you. One glance back revealed that it was Rex, freshly healed up, flexing his new hand in front of his face. He looked good, healthy. He wasn’t wearing the hospital garbs anymore, they had been replaced by street clothes. You didn’t pay much attention to them though; your eyes were drawn immediately to Rex himself. He had his hair tied up again in the trademark look you had become accustomed to.

“Wow, you healed quickly.” You titled your head at him, hoping your voice reflected that you were happy for him, rather than sounding condescending.

“I told you, accelerated healing.” He rolled his shoulders, taking a few steps forward.

“Even still.” You closed the distance, looking him over. Accelerated healing sure, but accelerated hair growth? That really did shock you. “Well, you look good.” It slipped out, instantly making you press your eyes closed. Embarrassment hot against your face.

“Do I?” He cocked his head to the side with a smug smile.

“Don’t push it, hotshot.” Hotshot? God, when did you get so overconfident?

He stepped closer, you had to crane your neck slightly to continue looking at his face. He was standing awfully close, but you didn’t back away. Why did you never back away?

“Why do you keep visiting me? Hm?” His voice comes out in a hushed tone, ghosting over you.

“It’s good for comradery, in the team.” You stammer out, your eyes drifting down to his lips as he speaks.

“Bullshit. Maybe that first visit was just for that, but you kept coming back. You could have just come the once. But you didn’t.”

You swallowed dryly, he was leaning in slightly at this, his sage eyes searching over your face. “I needed to make sure I didn’t make a mistake. I- I mended your bullet wound.” You admitted it quietly as if you were scared for him to know. “I wanted to be sure I didn’t actually cause lasting damage.”

He sighed and stepped away from you, running a hand through his hair up to the elastic before dropping his hand to his side. “I wouldn’t have even been here if you had just come with me.”

Silence enveloped both of you. You knew that he was right, but you also hadn’t expected him to voice your exact thoughts after whatever was just happening. “I…I know.” You whispered.

“But you can make up for it, can’t you?” You looked up, feeling mildly confused, just in time to see him cross the distance he had walked away back to you. “Make it up to me.” In what felt like a millisecond his mouth was on yours. His hand travels up the back of your neck into your hair. He felt greedy, his hand closing tightly over as large of a cluster as he could grasp. He deepened the kiss, his tongue swiping over your lips to gain entry-

You snapped your eyes open, quickly adjusting to the dark. Soft rays from the streetlights far below sifted in over your curtains leaving a soft yellow glow on your ceiling. Your breath was coming out in swift heaves. It felt uncomfortably hot in your room, so you threw off your duvet, still panting in an attempt to regain your lost breath. You could still feel his hands in your hair.

Shit.

Author's Note: Guys be honest am I moving too fast? Like I know were almost at 70k words but it’s finally starting to be less one sided and I feel like I’m waterboarding you guys. Also hopefully you guys have seen or heard of groundhog day or I just mischaracterized you so bad 💔

divider credit: @/ saradika

taglist: @kittymeowmrow @sketchlove @jewelwayne101 @0ut0fsweets @sugaramped request to be tagged for new parts!

[ivymarquis]

Say You Won’t Let Go

No good deed goes unpunished

Pairing| John Price x F!Single Mom!Reader Rating| E Word Count| 2.1k Kinks/Content/Warnings| Zombie apocalypse (I like how I lied to both myself and y’all that there was ever gonna be a chance of it being another type of apocalypse), both John and Love are a little crazy which is to be expected re: zombie!au, more nausea, more pregnancy related discourse, zombie world building and the ramifications/implications of being pregnant in the apocalypse, the author is currently having A Thing about pepperoncinis, strong hints to the events that lead to Love being abandoned, etc etc etc

First/Previous Chapter Here | Next Chapter

Captain John Price of the SAS, it seems, has decided to keep you.

As a child your neighbors had an Australian Cattle Dog.

He reminds you of that dog. Keyed in on your every move, herding you about as he sees fit throughout the day.

Gets irritated just like that dog used to, if he finds you somewhere he thinks you shouldn’t be.

Being alone with a man you do not know goes against everything you were taught growing up. You, however, are not exactly spoiled for choice where company is concerned and are in no position to bite the hand willing to feed you. Especially when the hand in question hasn’t done anything untoward.

John provides security and stability, even if he fusses at you incessantly.

“Need to be eating more than that.”

Objectively you know he’s correct, but there’s fuck all to be done about it.

“I can’t. I’ll throw up.”

You learn the nausea card will stay his hand, not that you’re even overplaying it. The child you’re carrying likes to alternate between sitting on your bladder and your stomach between bouts of playing soccer with your ribcage. Not exactly making it easy on you to get (or keep down) the food you need to grow a liver or a pair of lungs, or whatever it is that you’re cooking in the final stretch of your pregnancy.

For the most part he leaves you be about the food if he sees you picking at something over the duration of the day.

You circle each other cautiously; circumstance and loneliness making you unwilling to avoid him, but also still having the good sense to be aware you’re dealing with a stranger for less than a full day.

He’s brash, obviously used to getting his way. You don’t know a ton about the military and can only assume that it comes with the territory. He’s used to barking orders and commanding a space. You’re not exactly in a position to buck against his hand- and it’s not like you really want to, anyway.

He gives you first pick of the food, your cravings deciding your meal for you.

Cravings in an apocalypse blow, by the way. It’s not like you can get the tandoori chicken from your favorite Indian place at 2 am just because the mood strikes.

“I would kill for a jar of pepperoncinis,” you mumble, mostly to yourself one night as you pick at your dinner. God you could fuck a jar of them up with how your mouth is watering just at the thought of them.

In fact, had the world not gone to hell in a handbasket you’d probably be doing something cruel and inhumane to a pile of them. Like dipping them into nutella. Wasn’t one of the joys of pregnancy appeasing your cravings with absolutely abominable food combinations?

You’re not exactly in fight or flight at this exact moment, but you are in survival mode. No luxury of door dashing random items.

“How much longer do you think you’ve got?” The captain asks one night over dinner.

“I’m not sure. I think any day now at this point.”

You feel like you’re all belly, something that’s compounded by his follow up question of “Only got the one in there?” which is honestly fair.

“Yes. The midwife said he just has an Olympic sized swimming pool to float around in.”

“Midwife would be handy to have given your state.”

The question is buried between the lines. Why are you here and not with her?

“She’s dead.”

That’s what started this whole mess, isn’t it? It’s not your fault she’s dead but her absence was the catalyst of your group abandoning you.

He pauses his own meal, looking at you momentarily. “Sorry to hear that.”

You don’t know what to say in reply.

It feels disingenuous to pretend her death impacted you more than it actually did. While you two had spent more time together as your pregnancy progressed, the conversations had stayed staunchly about the baby and changes to your body.

You weren’t friends. But she was kind and compassionate and seemed knowledgeable about what was happening to you.

It does make you nervous, though. Women have had babies unassisted for millenium, but women have also died in childbirth since the dawn of time. Certain cultures regarded a successful birth in the same vein as warriors returning home from battle.

Since he asked- in a roundabout way- about your group, you feel bold enough to ask about his.

“How’d you get separated from your group?”

“Got caught with our trousers down by a herd wandering through this area. We were overwhelmed and I ended up going through a window. Did a number on my leg, that seems to finally be healing.”

Herds is such a funny way to describe a roaming group of the undead.

Herds usually contain deer, or horses, or sheep. Something soft and doe eyed that you can pet. Something that has teeth, yes, but typically not interested in hurting you.

Packs would be the better descriptor in your opinion- but then no one had asked you, had they?

“Do you think they’re still in the area?”

“Not if they’ve got any fucking sense,” he grouses. “There’s a group of survivors up north we’ve been taking care of. Safe zone so to speak- about as safe as anything can be, at least. Came down for supplies as the area looked clear, but the truck broke down. Herd came through and mucked everything up.”

The prospect of another community- a safe zone- enraptures you.

You’re not stupid, even if a lapse of judgment and a too long dry spell breaking has landed you in your current predicament. You understand that you’re a bit of a ticking time bomb.

You live in a world where safety is no longer a guarantee. That too much noise, and too much attention drawn can be a death sentence.

So having a baby is a far riskier move these days than it was in the past. There’s so much that can go wrong. You can’t tell a baby to be quiet because a herd is passing through and if any of them hear, then you’ve signed everyone’s death warrant.

And that’s if you and your child don’t die in labor.

So you were understandably devastated but yielded to the group consensus to leave you behind.

But a safe zone?

You’ve been floating around in limbo since parting from your group. Understanding that your death is written on the walls, but unwilling to lay down and die without trying.

You feel something akin to hope fluttering in your belly- that maybe you and your child will survive. That there’s not a blade waiting to descend on you when your water breaks.

“Can you take me there? Are you trying to go back?”

John regards you for a moment, and you try to not squirm in apprehension.

“Would be a whole lot easier if I had a working vehicle,” he states. “Between my leg and your,” he pauses, spearing a bite of his food and making a vague gesture at you as he chews, “current condition, walking that far isn’t a good idea.”

Right. Because you’re a ticking time bomb who might pop in the next hour, next week, or next day and there’s absolutely no way to know until it happens. Hence why you were trolling through a neighborhood looking for somewhere safe to bed down until you have your baby.

Talk about caught with your pants down if your water breaks trying to traverse a substantial distance. But then traveling with a newborn puts another target on your back, doesn’t it? How long until you’re comfortable with how fussy your baby is and you become confident you can read his cues? That’s a hell of a dice to roll.

“If I can find a working radio I can call my team. Or something I can drive.”

“I’m good with tech,” you volunteer. “Even if the radio doesn’t work- maybe I can make it work.”

You’ve always been someone who takes pride in your work, but working in tech in a post-collapse society has rendered your knowledge useless when traveling with a nomadic group just trying to make things work day by day.

So you’ve been feeling like a bit of a lame duck lately, even though you know logically that’s not being particularly fair to your circumstances. You’ve been forced to learn more pragmatic skills (at least, for the zombie apocalypse) but having to learn them on the fly with threats constantly looming over you doesn’t exactly provide a safe place to fail while you get over a learning curve.

Obviously close combat isn’t ideal in your situation. Guns draw too much attention with the noise. Maybe you can find a bow and practice with it.

So you jump at the opportunity to show that you might be able to pull your own weight. That you’re more than a fragile time bomb waiting for the counter to hit zero.

“I’ll keep that in mind if I find a broken one, then,” he appeases, although you can’t get enough of a read on him to know if he’s just placating you.

It’s a bit after dinner and the sun setting that John decides it’s time to herd you up to bed. “Right then, time to get you back upstairs.”

It’s only been two days now but it doesn’t take a genius to realize he’s got a thing about you and the stairs.

Someone like him is likely used to preparing for the worst case scenario in every situation. Lord knows what sort of horrors he’s thought up of you losing your balance going up or down, but he’d chewed on you pretty good earlier in the day when you’d tried to go up them without him to get something out of your bag.

Lesson learned- no traversing the stairs unattended.

Given that you are perpetually exhausted at this point, you can’t see the value in arguing that you don’t need your sleep schedule dictated to you. Left to your own devices you likely would have begun nodding off on the couch.

Even with your group, while there’d be assigned watch times, there wasn’t an enforced bedtime. Everyone’s adults- you were expected to handle your shit and be ready to move when it’s time to go.

So you nod along and let him guide you up.

John is magnanimous about the resources in the house, letting you be uncontested for the bathroom upstairs. You don’t understand how plumbing works but you can’t even bring yourself to complain about the cold water as you clean yourself.

There is a chair in “your” room, and the first night you placed it under the doorknob so that should John get any suspicious ideas, at least you’d be awake for your grizzy demise.

The doorknob never so much as turned, and you’ve been at his mercy long enough you decide if he was going to do anything unhinged, he’d have done it by now.

You are snuggled into your bed- which might as well be a luxurious thing with a 600 thread count for all you can care right now, even though it’s most assuredly not- and hear the sound of John’s door closing across the hall, and are out like a light before you can even process the noise and assume that he’s down for the count for tonight just like you are.

Come morning- after you’re finished in the bathroom and are greeted in the hall by John waiting for you- you realize that John was not squirreled away in his own room last night. He leads you down the stairs- insists on being between you and the bottom of the stairwell.

There’s a jar of pepperoncini peppers, a container of prenatal vitamins, and a pack of preggie pops which claims to be a pregnancy safe anti nausea candy.

The logical side of your brain should be floored that this veritable stranger has paid more attention to your needs (and yes you’re going to go ahead and count the pepperoncinis down as a need) in a day and a half than certain exes had during the entire run of your relationships with them.

A thank you would be appropriate given the situation.

Unfortunately, however, your hormone addled “I've been fending for myself after being abandoned, and I'm still emotionally fried” brain has been the one calling the shots lately, so instead what comes out is “You left me last night.”