#I swear I feel like they’d be good friends idk | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

imaginespazzi · 2 months

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Part 1: Don't Be A Stranger

Masterlist - Part 2 - Part 3 - Part 4 - Part 5

But if (my) world was ending, you'd come over right?

(In which UCLA anon's roman empire became this writer's roman empire and we've finally reached the beginning)

Pairing: Paige Bueckers X Azzi Fudd

Themes: Angst, Pining, Hurt/Comfort and a little bit of Fluff

Words: 8.4 K (other parts will be shorter....maybe)

TW: Swearing, Alcohol, Injuries, Alludes to Sexual Content

A/N: Hello my lovelies <3 Gonna keep this as short and sweet as possible but we've finally, finally gotten to the UCLA fic. A huge shout out to UCLA anon, because this is their master idea. Couple of things, I've never been to LA or UCLA and therefore some things are out of whack. The timeline is also a little out of whack but I swear I will try to keep it as consistent as possible. In the mean time, just ignore some of the inconsistencies pretty please. As always, feel free to let me know what's bad, what's good and what else you'd like to see. I hope y'all enjoy this first part and let's get another W today!

August 2021

where are you

i literally have to be at the airport in an hour paige where are you

dude

are you on your way?

you better be driving and that’s why you’re not answering

PAIGE

i’m sorry about last night i shouldn’t have said that

but you said a lot of shit too so call it even?

this isn’t funny where are you?

i have to leave in 15 mins

are you actually not coming?

wtf????

this is actually bullshit

get over yourself bueckers

wow

fuck you

just landed

thought you might like to know

sorry my plane didn’t crash i guess

September 2021

dude enough okay

can you just call me back??

i just wanna talk

i know you're mad i get it but i miss you

November 2021

hi i’mma be in dc over christmas

nvm

idk why i’m trying again

maybe i should block you

this is kinda pathetic of me what the fuck

December 2021

i thought i saw you today but idk

couldn’t have been you cause if it was

would you really not even say hi?

i’m done trying paige

merry christmas i guess

March 2022

i misz you

lyke a wot

love uuuuu pppppp

even if ur a bwtich

pkese pick up

ignore that

people drunk text exes apparently i drunk text you

wait

i don’t need to tell you that

you already ignore it all anyways

August 2022

i heard about the acl

i’m sorry

idk if it means anything, but if you wanna talk

nvm

***

September 2022

When the doorbell rings, on a quiet Thursday afternoon during a rare moment of alone time, Paige expects it to be a lot of people. One of her parents deciding that they actually weren’t going to leave her alone. Someone else in her family showing up out of the blue to provide comfort. Maybe one of her teammates popping up to keep her entertained. She even thinks it might be some random fan who got too invested and figured out the address for her air BnB. It’s the saddest testament to how broken they are, that the idea of it being Azzi Fudd standing outside her door, never once crosses her mind. But there she is, when Paige opens the door, dressed in ripped jean shorts and a light blue tank top, the girl that had been her best friend, and maybe a little bit more.

Silence stretches between them as Azzi fidgets with her hands and Paige continues to stoically stare at her. It’s been almost a year since they’ve seen each other, even longer since they’d last shared a happy smile. And you’d have to go back to before she’d told her about her future plans, to find the last time Azzi had properly looked Paige in the eyes.

“Hi,” Azzi says finally, mustering up a small smile. Paige doesn’t know if hearing that voice, soft and subdued but still so familiar, fixes a crack or breaks her heart even further. She wills herself to be polite in response, to match Azzi’s polite greeting with a greeting of her own. But there’s clear discord between her mouth and her head, because her words are harsh and hollowed.

“What are you doing here?”

Azzi swallows, smile disappearing as she immediately digs her fingernails into her palms and Paige feels the guilt settle into her stomach. It’s like the night before all over again. If she closes her eyes, Paige can still hear her voice loudly echoing in Azzi’s childhood bedroom. She can hear the angry words that she’d hurled at her best friend, each one like a well-aimed arrow piercing the other’s girl's heart and tearing into Paige’s own soul. Some would call what she’d done self-preservation. She’d call it her biggest mistake.

“I um-,” Azzi sucks in her bottom lip, “I was in the area and thought, maybe I’d check in.”

“How did you even know where I was?” Paige hates how cold and accusatory her voice sounds. It’s a version of herself she doesn’t quite know how to deal with, one that hasn’t ever appeared for anyone other than the girl in front of her, “I know I didn’t tell you.”

Any semblance of calm is gone from Azzi’s face, as she seems to realise that she’s not going to be getting any cordiality from her old friend.

“And we’re off to a great start,” she mutters under her breath before replying to Paige’s exact question, “no you didn’t. Your dad-”

“You talked to my dad?”

“Yeah. I mean you know Drew looks up to Jon and José so much and they still talk and stuff and he came over- Drew I mean- and then your dad was there and we just got to talking and you came up and yeah. He told me and well I live here, kinda, so I thought- well I thought maybe you’d like some company?”

As Azzi’s rambling explanation comes to an end, Paige doesn’t miss the tinge of hopefulness in her voice at the last bit. The younger girl shuffles her feet, as she stares at the blonde expectantly.

“I don’t-” Paige struggles to draw in a breath as the voices in her head argue, “I don’t think that’s a good idea.”

Her words are met with silence as Azzi stares at her blankly.

“I- you,” she blinks rapidly, clearly at a loss for what to say at the blatant rejection, “I can’t come in?”

“It’s just- I’ve had a lot of people visit you know,” Paige bullshits, suddenly feeling very exhausted, “and my family were here a couple days and my friends are coming soon and-”

“And I’m neither of those things,” Azzi says, her tone low and breathy.

“That’s not what-”

“It is,” Azzi closes her eyes for a brief second, when she opens them, the flash of hurt in them feels like a dagger through Paige’s chest, “it is like that and it is what you meant and it’s- it’s fine.”

“Az-” Paige chokes out, feeling her lungs collapse when the other girl moves to leave, “please,” and she’s not even sure she’s asking for, but it’s not this. It’s never been this.

Azzi stops and when she turns back around, there’s a determined look on her face.

“I just-” she rubs her face, composing herself before focusing her eyes on Paige, “you’re the strongest person I know. And you’re going to come back from this, better than ever. I know it. The whole world knows it. Because you’re Paige Bueckers. You’re something else. You’re the hardest worker, you’re just- you’re the best.”

“You don’t-”

“Just- just let me finish okay and then, then I’ll go or whatever but Paige, you’re all of those things you know? Strong, brave, the best fucking player- but, it’s also okay if sometimes-, if sometimes you aren’t. It’s okay because this- this is hard, I know it is. So if sometimes you’re not strong or-, or brave- or not feeling like working hard- it’s okay. And if there are moments where you- where you want to give up, that’s okay too. It doesn’t make you- it doesn’t make you any less than what you are. It just makes you human, and it’s okay you know- to be human. It’s okay if- if you hurt and it’s okay if you’re not okay. It’s- it’s okay.”

The two girls stare at each other, eyes shining with tears, as Paige let’s Azzi’s words wash over her. She’s been told a lot of platitudes about her injury, from her coaches to her teammates to her family. And she knows she has plenty of people in her corner, who root for her and who genuinely do believe she’ll have the greatest comeback ever. But the motivational speeches get draining after a while and all she’s wanted to do for the last couple of weeks is wallow. Then she felt guilty about wallowing, that little voice in her head yelling at her to be productive and work on getting back to herself because that’s what everybody expected. Paige hadn’t even realised how badly she needed someone to give her permission to not be okay, not until the only person who’d ever known that part of her, had finally said the words she so desperately needed to hear.

The thing is, when she was younger, Paige used to keep everything bottled inside. She’d always been hyper aware of her privilege and her problems had always just seemed so insignificant in front of her parents’ or her friends. So she’d kept them to herself, trapping herself in a web of her own burdens that sometimes threatened to strangle her. And then she’d met a girl at a USA basketball camp when she was 15, a girl who had gently flicked her fingers and Paige’s walls had fallen like dominoes. She hadn’t even known she was drowning, until Azzi had shown up with a lifeboat.

“I just-,” Azzi breaks Paige out of her trance by breaking the eye contact between them, “I didn’t know if anybody had said that to you yet and I just- I wanted you to hear it.”

In the span of a minute, a thousand and one phrases take birth in Paige’s mind and then die on the tip of her tongue. She opens and closes her mouth, trying to express even one of the myriad of emotions that are swirling like a tornado in her brain. But nothing comes out except a litany of incomprehensible noises. And Azzi seems to find the wrong answer in the silence, giving the blonde a timid nod.

“Take care of yourself P,” her voice catches on the familiar nickname, as she shoots Paige a sad smile, before beginning to walk away. When Azzi chose UCLA, she’d lit Paige's heart on fire. So, Paige had drowned their friendship. And while all this time Azzi has struggled to breathe, Paige has burned but god, is she so fucking tired of it.

“Fuck, Azzi wait,” Paige curses, hobbling to catch up to the brunette, who stops with a sigh but doesn’t make a move to return. Stubborn as always, Paige thinks, continuing her way over. When she does catch up, she’s not fully sure what to say and so, “I uh- I’m out of milk.”

Azzi raises her eyebrows in question, crossing her arms protectively around her chest.

“I can’t drive,” Paige explains slowly, “or walk obviously.”

Realisation dawns on Azzi’s face, “you’re asking me to drive you to the grocery store?”

“I guess,” Paige shrugs, trying to be nonchalant.

“Seems like the kind of favour someone asks of their family, or their friends,” Azzi emphasises bitterly, never one to let go of an opportunity for sarcasm.

Paige flinches, “right, I kinda deserved that one.”

She gets a raised eyebrow in response that very much says “ya think?”

“I’m trying here,” she says quietly, and Azzi’s hard demeanour softens, “I’m raising a white flag Az, calling a truce or whatever but it kinda needs to go both ways.”

“What do you think me coming here was supposed to be?” the younger girl says exasperatedly, but she’s smiling again. It’s the third one Paige has gotten out of her today, and finally, she smiles back. They look a little foolish, standing in the apartment hallway, cheshire-cat-grinning at each other like idiots, but it feels like something has clicked into place again.

“I’ll go grab my wallet, you go heat up the car.”

“It’s like 110 degrees dude.”

“Bro shut up, you know what I mean,” Paige huffs and when it makes Azzi laugh, she feels like she’s floating. It’s not as if she hasn’t been happy in a year because won’t you look at that, her world did keep turning after that one decision. But this is different. She feels airy and light, like she could jump off a cliff and fly instead of fall.

“Well hurry up, I have things to do outside of just being your chauffeur.”

“Poor passenger princess, how the roles have reversed,” Paige mocks and it earns her an ever so familiar fond eye roll and for the first time in a year, she feels free.

***

When she gets downstairs, Azzi’s leaning against her car door, a pair of sunglasses shielding her eyes. The hot California sun shines brightly against her tan skin, and Paige’s heart stutters because fuck, Azzi is golden. She looks every bit reminiscent of the girl Paige still has memorised and yet, every bit the promise of a girl Paige wants to learn by heart.

“Nice car,” Paige smirks, alerting the younger girl of her presence.

“It does the job,” Azzi says, looking up with a smile of her own, opening the passenger door for Paige to get in, “not all of us are raking in NIL deals to get the big guns, but we make do.”

“Steph Curry brand ambassador say what now?” the blonde girl teases as she slides into the car. When she looks up, Azzi’s frozen in place, “what?”

“Nothing I just-” she’s wearing sunglasses, but Paige knows Azzi's trying to avert her gaze, “I’m kinda surprised you know that.”

It’s Paige’s turn to look away, their newfound comfort giving away to that old awkwardness, “I keep up with most basketball news.”

To Azzi’s credit she doesn’t push. Instead, she makes her way into the driver seat without another sound. She’s about to connect her phone to the aux but Paige beats her to it.

“Hey,” Azzi squeals, making grabby hands, “my car, my rules, my music.”

“Nuh-uh injury privileges,” Paige gloats, sticking out her tongue.

“That’s not a thing.”

“Is too.”

“Fine, we’ll listen to your crap music.”

“I resent that,” Paige retorts, as Drake blasts through the speakers. The sound of it makes Azzi groan, and she dramatically bangs her head against the steering wheel. Paige spends the rest of the car ride singing at the top of her lungs. Azzi spends the rest of the car ride alternating between shaking her head and joining in with the singing. It’s like they’re back in 2020 all over again, back before they found themselves in the whirlwind of life, back when they were just Paige and Azzi.

***

Their trip inside the grocery store takes less time than the ride to get there, even if Paige takes her time dilly-dallying in the dairy section, pretending she’s going to get anything other than just regular milk. She’s overly conscious of the fact that their time together might be coming to an end, that this time she might actually have to deal with saying goodbye. But she’s not ready to go back to missing Azzi just yet.

“Maybe you can show me your dorm,” she says quietly, once they're both back in the car, playing with the hem of her shirt. Beside her, Azzi draws in a sharp intake of breath, clearly not having expected Paige to want that of all things. In all honesty, the idea of stepping into the world that had stolen Azzi from her is not all that appealing to Paige but she wants to hold onto this moment just a little bit longer.

“You wanna see my dorm?”

“A chance to see how the non-blue blood peasants live? I’d never pass it up.”

“Non blue blood,” Azzi scoffs, "Ever heard of John Wooden?”

“I was talking about women’s basketball but yeah I have heard of him. I won the award last year. Over you,” Paige smirks, wiggling her eyebrows.

“Not everyone’s a phenom their freshman year,” Azzi retorts fondly, unable to mask the hint of pride in her voice.

“Well we’ll see this year-” Paige stops herself, cold seeping into her lungs, as she remembers why she’s in the stupid state of California in the first place. The lighthearted mood in the car goes tumbling out the window as her words hang like a dagger in the air.

“Paige,” Azzi whispers, trying to wrap that one syllable in comfort. She reaches out to touch the blonde’s shoulder but must think better of it because her hand hovers mid-air for a second, before she pulls it back. Paige is suddenly hyper aware of the fact they haven’t touched yet. It’s a reminder of the fact that whatever progress they’ve made today, there’s still so much they haven’t even begun to unpack.

“It’s fine,” Paige’s voice is steely, “just drive.”

Azzi opens and closes her mouth a couple of times, before simply nodding and starting the ignition. She’s clearly holding back and Paige doesn’t know how to feel about it. There’s a part of her that wants Azzi to push her to talk like she would before, but there's another part of her that knows this new rope they’re trying to string between them is fragile.

They ride in silence to Azzi’s apartment, both of them too caught up in their own thoughts to bother with music this time. As the UCLA campus nears, Paige can’t help but hate it just a little bit. She’s aware she’s being petty. Acting like Storrs, Connecticut is some hub of beauty is probably a stretch of the imagination for anyone but she’s determined to dislike this place out of principle.

“Hmm not too shabby but like where’s the fucking cows?” Paige jokes, as the car comes to a stop in front of Azzi’s apartment building. She steps out gingerly, pretending to inspect her surroundings, making tsk-tsk noises at the most random things.

“I’ve seen your apartment Bueckers, don’t even try,” Azzi retorts.

It shouldn’t surprise Paige to see one of Azzi’s teammates when they enter her living room. It’s just like UConn really in the sense that there’s always someone there when you walk in but something about seeing Charisma Osborne just chilling in Azzi’s space suddenly makes it more real that the younger girl is definitely a UCLA Bruin.

“Oh,” Charisma gives Paige a once-over, clearly not having expected to see her, “hi Paige.”

Paige waves, shuffling her weight on her crutches, unsure what to say. It’s not like she doesn’t know Charisma, they’ve literally won a gold medal together for USA basketball. She’s even met the girl a couple of times after and she likes her, she does. But her bitter brain is focused on the fact that this is one of those girls who had gotten Azzi as their teammate, one of the girls who got to see Azzi everyday. All things Paige had not gotten.

“You didn’t tell me you were bringing company Az,” Charisma says pointedly, looking at Azzi and Paige bristles at the use of the nickname. She’s being all sorts of ridiculous but at least she’s self-aware of it.

“Last minute decisions,” Azzi replies airily. The two girls lock eyes and Paige can tell they’re having some sort of unspoken conversation and now the green-eyed envy monster is out in full force.

“I insisted on seeing her dorm,” she says finally, breaking into whatever staring competition the two UCLA guards are having.

“It’s not a problem,” Charisma reassures, standing up from her position on the couch, and coming over to give Paige a tentative hug, “I just didn’t know you were coming. But it’s good to see you, Paige.”

“Yeah,” Paige tries to muster up a proper smile as she leans in to return the hug but it comes out more like a grimace, “you too.”

“We’re gonna go chill in my room,” Azzi says, beckoning to one of the doors in the hallways and Paige obediently follows her, waving a half-hearted goodbye to Charisma. She’s secretly pleased to have Azzi back to herself.

The room is nothing out of the ordinary except it has Azzi all over it. She’s in the pink comforter that is thrown haphazardly over a clearly not made bed. She’s in the unicorn plushies laid delicately over a dark blue couch. She’s in the little flower stickers that outline the mirror on the far side of the room. There’s a wall dedicated solely to pictures and fairy lights on one side and Paige is immediately drawn to it. A familiar ache reverberates in her chest as her eyes flicker over the pictures of Azzi’s family. She’s missed them. Then there’s the photographs of Azzi in her UCLA uniform, her teammates surrounding her and Paige has to resist the dangerous urge to rip those off the wall. Be happy for her happiness, the logical part of her brain yells, not seeming to realise she’d left any chance of that in the dirt a year ago. As she tears her eyes away from those offending pictures, they land instead on a whole other set of photographs and she feels her heart catch in her throat.

It’s a set of three images of her and Azzi, taken at various moments. Paige brushes her thumb against the one of the two of them with their arms around each other at the Minnesota state fair. Azzi’s beaming at the camera and Paige is beaming at Azzi. They look so young, so naive, so happy.

“I’m on your wall,” Paige breathes out, turning to face her best friend, “Fuck, I’m on you wall.”

“Of course you are,” Azzi affirms, like it’s the most obvious thing in the world but she shuffles nervously, giving away the reality behind her stable demeanour.

“I never answered your texts. I didn’t call you back,” Paige lists quietly as the first tear falls from her eyes; she’s been holding them back all day, “and I’m on your fucking wall.”

Azzi looks away, unsure how to deal with the fact that apparently they’re no longer tip-toeing around the past. She doesn’t know how to tell the blonde that there had never really been a second thought about whether or not those photos were going up on the wall.

“Doesn’t matter,” she shrugs finally, “you’re my best friend. You’re always gonna be my best friend. Ride or die right?”

“Ride or die,” Paige repeats in a whisper before she all but throws herself at Azzi, practically moulding herself into the younger girl’s body. Caught off guard, Azzi stiffens for a second, before relaxing into it. It’s late outside and the sun has set, but in this moment, the world shines the brightest it has in a year as two stubborn girls finally find their way home to each other.

***

That night, Azzi asks her tentatively if she wants to stay over and of course Paige agrees. Lying awake next to a familiar stranger, she lets herself finally remember the day things had first started unravelling.

November 2020

“You’ll probably get one of the upstairs apartments, so we probably won’t actually be living together which is good because can you imagine if I had to see your goofy ass 24/7?” Paige puts a dramatic hand to her forehead, as she leads Azzi into her room.

She’s too caught up in her excitement having Azzi at UConn, and planning what’ll happen next year, to notice that the girl in question isn’t participating at all in her enthusiasm. Paige has been waiting for what feels like a year (in reality it’s only been a few months) to finally have her best friend come visit. The minute the car had pulled up, she’d taken it upon herself to start her sales pitch all over again, missing the sympathetic smiles she’d gotten from the rest of the Fudd family as she pulled Azzi away to show her the glories of the campus.

“Did you see my assist to Christyn today?” Paige gloats, falling onto her bed with a smirk.

“It was pretty great,” Azzi concedes.

“It was fucking perfect thank you very much. I set her up perfectly, exactly how she likes it.”

“Right.”

“And then did you see how excited the team was for her? For everyone? Never gonna find a greater group of girls.”

“They seem wonderful P.”

Paige furrows her eyebrows as she catches Azzi still lingering by the door instead of joining her on the bed. The brunette fidgets with the sleeve of her sweater, chewing on her lips.

“Are you allergic to my bed?” Paige waits for some smartass response. When she doesn’t get one, she frowns, instincts going haywire, “Az, you good?”

“I- '' Azzi looks away, swallowing nervously, “I need to tell you something and I- I’m not sure how you’re gonna react.”

“You get a boyfriend or a girlfriend or something in the last few months that I don’t know about?” She says it light-heartedly enough, but the thought of it sends a sharp sting through Paige’s heart. In hindsight, she thinks maybe she could have dealt with it having been that.

“What? No. Just- just don’t- dont take it personally okay. Like you can be upset about it but- but don’t hold it against me yeah? My parents- they said- they said you’d get it. You’d be upset but you’d- you’d get it because you- you get me right?”

Paige’s chest hammers as she watches the younger girl draw in a deep breath, “you’re scaring the shit out of me right now.”

“I’mcommittingtoUCLA” Azzi says all in one breath, the words blending together.

She’s sure she’s heard it wrong. There’s no way. After all this time, after all their conversations, all the pitches, how hard she had worked, there was no way this was going to be the end to all of Paige’s efforts.

“What?” she whispers, crossing her fingers that she has in fact misheard.

When Azzi averts her eyes, she knows she hasn’t, “I’m committing to UCLA.”

The first time Paige and Azzi met was somewhat awkward, what with Azzi’s shyness and Paige being slightly overeager to make a new friend. When they’d become bus buddies, they’d progressed to being casual acquaintances who could small talk and share smiles. And then the flight back to Minnesota happened and everything had changed. Every moment after was filled with conversation or laughs or a comfortable silence. Until this one, where the sudden silence between them foreshadows an ominous future.

“Say something,” Azzi says finally, her voice shaking.

Paige stares at her for a second before, “you named your dog Stewie.”

“What?”

“You named your dog Stewie. After Breanna Stewart who played at UConn. It’s not-” Paige wracks her brain, hands flying animatedly “it’s not Meyers or something, after someone who played at fucking UCLA. You named your dog after a UConn great. How are you going to take him to UCLA with you?”

Azzi stares at her, clearly not having expected that level of questioning of all things. Who could blame her when Paige herself feels a little insane.

“This is a joke right? You’re fucking with me? Ha ha ha very funny,” she claps deliriously, “hilarious prank seriously, like hats off you’ve outdone yourself but enough okay? Say sike right fucking now.”

Azzi makes a strangled noise, “it’s not a joke Paige. That’s- that’s my decision.”

“Then change it,” Paige yells, catapulting off the bed.

“Paige-”

“Have you told UCLA yet?”

“I wanted to tell my family and you first.”

“Oh wow, how kind of you. How fucking generous of you to do that Azzi,” Paige bites back sarcastically and Azzi flinches.

In a flash, Paige’s expression goes from angry to desperate, “you still have time to change your mind . Please just- just think about it again okay? You still have so much time and you know what, stay here for a couple more days. Spend time with the team, with the coaches, with me and you’ll see-. UCLA just sounds nice you know? California, the sun, I get it, of course it’s tempting. But just- just stay here okay? And you’ll see this is where you belong,” she leaves the, with me, unsaid.

“Paige,” Azzi’s voice cracks. She takes a step toward her and then pauses. It’s the first time in a long time that Azzi’s hesitated when it comes to Paige. It won’t be the last. And when she looks at Paige through her long eyelashes, tears threatening to fall from her dark brown eyes, Paige knows she’s lost.

“No,” she’s pacing now, chest heaving up and down in a combination of frustration, anger and misery, “this is not fucking happening. We’re not doing this. I made you a whole recruitment video. Did you watch it? Do you know how long it took me to make it? Has the last year been a fucking joke to you?”

“Of course not-”

“Don’t even. Because clearly- clearly it has. Must’ve been hilarious watching me beg and plead with you when you already fucking knew you were going to committ somewhere else.”

“That’s not fair,” Azzi’s voice rises at the accusation, “I had no idea where I was going until a couple of weeks ago. You can’t seriously think that low of me.”

“Not fair? You know what’s not fair, Azzi? We’ve been talking about playing together, about finally being on the same team, the same fucking state, for years. What’s not fair is you throwing all of that away on a whim.”

“I’m not committing to UCLA on a whim. This is my whole future we’re talking about. You don’t even know how much thought I’ve put into it. And I’m choosing what’s best for me. You can’t hold that against me Paige. You can’t.”

They stand on opposite sides of the room, taking in harsh staggered breaths and glaring at each other. The tension in the room is electric as the string connecting them frays. Paige and Azzi bicker, they don’t argue. Or at least, that’s how it used to be.

“Az?” their stare down is broken by a knock on the door as Katie Fudd lets herself in. Immediately, as she stares between her daughter and the girl who’d become just as important, Katie knows what has happened, “we’re going back to the air BnB, are you staying here?”

The answer should be obvious, like it used to be. Of course she would stay here. It was meant to be a no-brainer. But before Azzi can say that, Paige intervenes and the string snaps.

“She’s going with you,” the blonde says firmly, before turning her back. She won’t let Azzi see the tears, she won’t. For her part, the brunette stares at Paige’s back silently for a couple of seconds, before a mask of determination slips on.

“Fine. If that’s what you fucking want,” Azzi sneers before brushing past her mom, eager to get away and hide her own tears.

When Paige turns back around, Katie is already looking at her. The older woman walks the length of the room and pulls the younger girl into a hug that she readily melts into. Paige sniffles as Azzi’s mom soothingly rubs her back.

“We’re driving back tomorrow morning,” Katie whispers quietly into Paige’s hair, “I know you’re mad sweetheart but come say goodbye okay?”

And she does. She shows up with only half an hour or so remaining before Azzi leaves, but Paige shows up. They hug stiffly, exchanging maybe a sentence or two but in that moment it’s enough. They’ll call later when Azzi gets home and it’ll be awkward for a little bit but they’ll break through. They’ll figure out a way to go on without having to talk about the “big thing”. They’ll hold on as long as they can, until they can’t anymore.

***

September 2022

After the night Paige stays over at Azzi’s apartment, they're attached at the hip for the next few weeks, just like old times. They’ve fallen into a routine of sorts. Azzi shows up without fail every day after practice to pick Paige up from her rehab, and then the rest of the younger girl’s time is Paige’s. The first time she’d seen the brunette leaning casually against her car, Paige had had to stop herself from jumping into her arms. She’d played it as nonchalant as possible, joking about Azzi being stalker, but inside, she could feel it again, the dangerously familiar tap of this is all I’ll ever need.

On days Paige doesn’t have rehab, Azzi still shows up right on time on her doorstep with a board game or food or something. It’s gotten to the point where every time the doorbell rings, Paige opens it expecting Azzi. The couple times it’s not, she tries and fails to hide the disappointment on her face. It earns her an eye roll from the delivery guy but it’s worth it for the laugh it elicits from Azzi when she tells her the story. They fall back together as if they’d never fallen apart. And what’s more terrifying than finding out that she’d never truly gotten over old Azzi, is realising how easy it would be to fall in love with new Azzi.

When Caroline, Nika and Piath come to visit the weekend after, all three of them can immediately tell that something's changed. Their teammate seems lighter, as if she’s finally found a sense of calm. But their incessant prodding and raised eyebrows are only met with shrugs from a tight-lipped Paige. It isn’t until Azzi calls, and Nika snatches the phone out of Paige’s hands, gasping at the callerID, that they finally figure out why their point guard has a new kick in her step.

“You should invite her out with us tonight,” Caroline is the first to speak, giving Paige an encouraging smile.

“Carol,” Nika hisses, “we can’t just invite the enemy.”

“She’s not the enemy,” Paige defends immediately, “we don’t even have a rivalry with UCLA.”

Nika scoffs indignantly, “of course she is. She picked a different school over us. Over UConn! That’s weird. Who even does that?”

“Lots of people do,” Caroline, who occasionally texts Azzi (albeit she’s kept that somewhat of a secret), supplies helpfully, shrugging when the Croatian glares at her.

Piath nudges Paige when she notices the other girl has gone quiet, “ignore Nika. She doesn’t mean it, you know that. If you wanna invite her, invite her.”

And she does, she wants to so badly. It’s insane really because it hasn’t even been a full day since they’d last seen each other but Paige swears something inside her has been missing since. There’s something awfully terrifying about letting Azzi back into the UConn version of her world, the world that the younger girl had once rejected. Still, if they’re going to try this again, she supposes sooner or later, it’ll have to happen.

“Put her on speaker,” Nika orders when Paige grabs her phone back from her.

“Nika,” Caroline, younger only by age, warns, pulling the other girl away, “we’re supposed to be cheering her up, not making life harder.”

Azzi answers on the third ring, her voice teasing “miss me already?”

Yes, Paige thinks, sometimes I think I miss you even when you’re right here next to me, sometimes I think I’ll miss you forever. But she doesn’t say any of that.

“Not a chance,” she scoffs instead, “besides you called me first.”

“Butt dial.”

“Mmmhmm I’m sure.”

“Shut up,” Azzi laughs and Paige is glad her teammates aren’t here to see the goofy grin that appears on her face at the sound of it, “I just wanted to see if we were doing something tonight?”

“Yeah- umm- you remember I told you about the girls coming down this weekend. They- uh- they wanted to go out tonight and uh- you could come along?”

There’s a pause on the other end and Paige knows Azzi’s going through the same thought process as her.

“I don’t wanna intrude on your time with your team P-”

“You wouldn’t be intruding,” Paige cuts in immediately and although she figured her teammates were definitely eavesdropping, Nika cursing about her being “pussywhipped” followed by in-sync shushing from Piath and Caroline, gives them away.

On the other end of the line, Azzi’s quiet again, “it’s okay P, you go have fun with your friends. We don’t have to spend every night together. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

What she doesn’t say is that maybe they need to learn how to live like that again, how to live apart again. Paige is almost done with the LA part of her rehab, something both of them are still in denial about. It’s only a matter of time before they return back to their two separate worlds and neither of them are sure they’ve managed to repair their friendship enough to not slip back into their foolishness again.

“But I wanna see you tonight,” Paige whines, her tone teetering on the edge of sounding like a desperate girlfriend, “please.”

“Paige-”

“Pleaseeeeeee. I’m literally injured and begging Az, it’d be mean to say no.”

“What does your injury even have to do with any of this?” Azzi sighs exasperatedly, “but yeah okay fine calm down Bueckers. Send me an address, I’ll be there.”

“You don’t wanna come pregame here?”

“Dude, let's not push it, okay?”

“Yeah, yeah okay see you,” Paige pauses, “hey Az?”

“Hmm?”

“I’m really happy you’re coming tonight.”

“I’m really happy you’re happy P.”

***

Azzi Fudd is a menace. See, people often get fooled by her soft-spoken nature and shy demeanour, but Paige has been around her long enough to know the truth. In the beginning it was the witty quips the younger girl always had ready whenever they were having some ridiculous argument. After that, it was the direct pranks that wreaked havoc on Paige’s life. But tonight, in Paige’s opinion, tonight is Azzi’s worst offence. She had to have done it on purpose, had to have known the sheer effect it would have on Paige to see her dressed like that. The red criss-cross tank top fits her like a mould and the way her ripped jeans shorts cling to her hips leaves little to the imagination. Her diamond belly button piercing shines against her skin, taunting Paige. She wants to touch, she wants to feel, she wants to do all the unspeakable things in her mind but she’s forced to just watch.

What she hates most though, is that everybody else is watching too. Since Azzi’s walked into the club, Paige has had to fight the urge to strangle every stranger who had given her best friend an appraising once-over. Some of them let their eyes linger long enough to give her time to plot out the perfect murder strategy (it’s the only way she can stop herself from actually committing a crime tonight). And, as Azzi dances with Caroline, hips swaying to the beat and holding the other girl a little closely, Paige has the irrational urge to hit sweet, kind Caroline of all people.

The thing is, Azzi’s been a little too attached to Caroline since she got here in Paige’s opinion. And she gets it. Piath, bless her soul, is trying but has always been a little awkward around new people. Nika is definitely not trying, loyally holding onto a grudge on behalf of Paige. Which leaves Caroline, who’s already familiar territory and the younger girl has grasped onto her like a lifeline. But enough is enough Paige decides, as she slips out of her seat with a determined look. Smoothly, she cuts right in between Caroline and Azzi.

“Nika’s a little wasted and I don’t want to deal with,” it’s a blatant lie but Paige knows appealing to Caroline’s more motherly instincts will get her what she wants. She gets a raised eyebrow in return, her teammate clearly catching her ruse because Nika looks visibly fine. But it works anyway and Paige gets Azzi to herself. She reaches for the other girl’s hand, twirling her just so she can hear that stupid silly laugh, and then pulling her back so she’s facing Paige.

“You having fun?”

“Always have fun with you P,” Azzi replies. She’s clearly tipsy but there’s no hint of insincerity in her voice. It makes Paige’s breath hitch.

“Yeah?” she whispers, taking a step closer, “more than with Carol?”

Azzi giggles, “more than anyone.”

The song in the club changes and as the crowd adjusts to it, someone jostles Azzi and immediately Paige grabs at her hips to steady her. As she finds her balance, Azzi’s giggles subside, realising just how close she is to the blonde now. They’re stuck in slow motion as the world dances around them. The combination of adrenaline and alcohol pumping through her veins is what convinces Paige to test the limits. One hand still squeezing at Azzi’s bare waist, revelling in finally getting to touch, she brings up her thumb to trace around Azzi’s lips. The younger girl gulps, but when she doesn’t try to move away, confidence pulses through Paige. Her heart is beating frantically out of her chest, years and years of want and need that she’d shoved as far away as possible, desperately fighting to get to the surface.

Pushing herself closer, so their chests are now pressed to each other and Azzi’s hands have no choice but to latch onto her biceps, Paige places a delicate, teasing kiss to the corner of Azzi’s lips. She wishes she could record the whine it elicits and listen to it on loop for hours. Smirking, she moves to place another one on the other side, this time pressing her lips a little harder, a little longer. Azzi’s eyes are closed shut, hands gripping onto Paige so tightly, she knows there’ll be a mark on her biceps tomorrow. She cups Azzi’s face with both hands now, her own eyes shutting involuntarily, as she finally, finally brushes their lips together.

This time, the strangled noise that leaves Azzi’s throat, is one Paige wishes she could forget as the younger girl rips herself away from Paige, the force of it creating almost a foot of distance between them. It doesn’t take long for the familiar sting of rejection to make itself home in her heart. Azzi’s eyes are brimming with tears as she manically shakes her head. Without a word, she rushes through the crowd, making a beeline for the exit, leaving Paige confused and craving for another taste.

***

It takes Paige a second to gather her thoughts before following the brunette. She ignores the confused glances from her teammates, making some bullshit excuse about fresh air as she fights her way outside. When she gets there, Azzi’s leaning against the wall, eyes closed as she takes in long deep breaths.

“That’s not usually how girls react when I try to kiss them,” Paige says after a second, trying to make light of the situation, even if her heart is heavy with anxiety.

It’s the wrong thing to say because Azzi scoffs, “you kiss a lot of girls don’t you.”

“Yeah and most of them kiss me back,” Paige bites back.

She’s taken aback by the fire in the darker-skinned girl’s eyes as Azzi finally opens them, heaving herself off the wall.

“I won’t be one of your groupies Paige. I won’t be one of your desperate one night stands. I won’t be just some other hookup. I won’t!”

Frankly she’s a little offended Azzi would even think that of her. She’s aware of her reputation. In fact she’d probably fed into it a little bit, exaggerating her escapades to Azzi on the phone her freshman year, when they had been on the verge of combusing and she’d been desperate to get a rise out of the younger girl. Last year though, last year was different. But Azzi doesn’t know that.

“I don’t want you to be any of that,” she replies feebly.

“Then what, do you want me to be?” Azzi’s voice rises with each syllable.

Paige stutters, the words getting stuck in her throat. The truth is she wants Azzi to be everything. The truth is, Azzi already is everything. Except there’s too much between them and she just can’t say it. They stand in silence until Azzi finally breaks it.

“I think these last few weeks of summer might have been the best of my life,” she says miserably, “and that might be the worst thing ever you know? Because it’s not real. You’re gonna go back to your world and you’ll- you’ll stop replying to my texts and you’ll stop- you’ll stop calling me and I- I don’t know if I can do that again.”

“That’s an awful lot of assumptions you’re making about me,” Paige is on defensive mode now, feeling a fight brewing.

“Because that’s what happened. Go back through your fucking phone Paige. Look at all the times I tried. And all the times you never did. You just- you cut me out Paige.”

“That’s not fair. You chose fucking UCLA. Over me.”

“No,” Azzi corrects immediately, anger seeping into her tone, “I chose UCLA over UConn. You made it about yourself.”

Paige swallows back a bitter response in favour of trying to prevent a full-fledged argument, “okay, okay let’s not- let’s not do this okay. It’ll be better this time- I- I won’t ignore your calls or texts or you okay? Just- can we just go back inside please?”

“That’s the thing,” Azzi’s anger is gone, replaced by a sad wistful smile, “I don’t know if I believe that you will,” a single tear rolls down her cheek, “I- I don’t fully trust you and you haven’t fully forgiven me. So where do we go from here?”

It’s a lie what they say about the truth setting you free, Paige thinks as Azzi’s words squeeze at her heart, because all it’s done is unleash shackles of despair that holds them both hostage. It had been easy the last couple of weeks, to pretend the last year had never happened. It had been easy for Paige to pretend that she was over what happened, to ignore the part of her brain that still felt so utterly betrayed.

“Azzi, what are you saying? You don’t- you don’t wanna be friends?” Paige feels nauseous even saying it.

“No I-” Azzi chews at her bottom lip, “I’m saying this- us- we’re too fragile to complicate even more. I barely- fuck- Paige, I barely survived losing my best friend. I don’t think I could survive losing something more.”

The worst thing about it all, is that it makes sense. And really, Paige doesn’t know what she’d expected to happen if Azzi hadn’t pulled away when she did. They’d kiss, maybe give in and do more and then what? Shake hands and walk away? Or make false promises that would ultimately lead to resentment? No, Years and years of something deserved better than either of those masochistic endings. It makes sense, it does but it doesn’t mean Paige has to like it.

In front of her, all the fight evaporates from Azzi’s body, as the younger girl leans back against the brick wall of the club, sliding down and pulling her knees to her chest. She looks every bit as miserable as Paige feels and all the blonde wants to do is wipe away the stress lines creasing against the younger girl’s beautiful phase. She moves to sit down next to her best friend, shuffling so their shoulders are pressed together and intertwines their fingers together. A sigh of relief escapes her when Azzi doesn’t immediately pull away. Instead, she squeezes their hands tighter, as if she’s scared that if she lets go, Paige will disappear.

“You didn’t lose me you know,” Paige says softly after a second, nudging Azzi’s shoulder when the other girl lets out a noise of protest, “I know, I know it feels like you did. It felt like that to me too except- every time something good or bad happened to me, I heard your voice or- or maybe I just really wanted too. We got lost a little bit but I didn’t- I didn’t lose you and you didn’t lose me. There’s a difference. I don’t think we could ever lose each other like that. Not really.”

When Azzi turns to look at her, the golden glow of the street lights illuminate the emotions in her eyes. She gives Paige a soft smile, “well Bueckers, if basketball doesn’t work out, maybe you have a future in poetry.”

“I could do whatever I wanted,” except what I want to do the most.

It doesn’t take long for the Uber Azzi’s already called to start pulling up and that familiar ache of longing creeps into Paige’s spine. She knows tonight isn’t their final goodbye; they still have a couple more days. But those days will be spent ignoring and pretending, unlike tonight and the firm grip they have on reality. They rise off of the cold pavement together, dusting themselves off. It takes a second of awkward glances before they’re surging into each other’s arms, squeezing each other so tightly that it’s hard to breathe. Paige wills herself not to cry, hiding her face in the crook of Azzi’s neck.

“We’ll be okay,” she whispers, unsure if it’s more for her benefit or Azzi’s.

The unwanted beep of a car is the only reason they reluctantly pull away, hurriedly wiping away unshed tears, they pretend the other can’t see. Azzi musters up a brave smile, before slowly moving away and it takes everything in Paige not to crumble and begs her to stay. Azzi’s halfway to the car when she turns back and it feels like Paige can breathe again. The brunette’s face is conflicted for a second before turning determined, as she starts walking back up.

“Az-”

Paige’s confusion is stifled as Azzi fists her shirt, pulling her into a searing kiss. It’s desperate and needy and it’s only a few seconds before the dark-haired girl is pulling away again, but it sets Paige’s entire world off balance.

“I just-” Azzi’s breathing is rapid and uneven, “I’ve wanted to do that since I was fifteen and- just- fuck- I just-,” she blinks up at Paige, “I hate- I hate leaving things unfinished and for fucks sake if you don’t call me back this time Bueckers- just- don’t be a stranger.”

Paige doesn’t get time to answer, she doesn’t think she could even if she did, because Azzi scurries away almost immediately. She stops when she gets to the car, turning back to give Paige one final look, a look that will haunt Paige forever, before getting into the backseat. As Paige watches the back of Azzi’s uber gets smaller and smaller, her tongue darts across her lips as she tries to memorise the faintest taste of Azzi’s strawberry-flavoured lipstick. And she knows, she’s so utterly and completely and terribly fucked.

#pazzi #paige bueckers #azzi fudd #wcbb

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agaypanic · 3 months

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Enemies to lovers with Chase: he’s obviously a bionic genius but after being enrolled in school he develops a rivalry with the smartest girl in school and he’s constantly competing with her until they get partnered for a project and realize how much they actually like each other.

Swear Not By The Moon (Chase Davenport X Reader)

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Summary: Being a man with bionic super smarts, Chase excelled at everything and was always ahead of everyone. When he first started going to Mission Creek High, he unknowingly became rivals with you, the smartest girl in school. When you have to work together on a project, you realize that Chase Davenport might not be so bad.

A/N: the davenport siblings each have their own room bc (can’t remember if its canon but i dont think it is) i feel like after starting school, they’d get real rooms in case they had friends over and whatever. title inspired by romeo and juliet dialogue teehee. idk if this is giving good academic rivals but i tried lmao

***

It was completely unintentional, Chase constantly competing with you at school. He had bionic super smarts, so it was inevitable that he would climb to the top of the food chain. Academically speaking, of course.

But before him, you dominated everyone else around you. You had for years. So when Chase Davenport waltzed in and suddenly became the best academic student at Mission Creek High, you felt an intense need to put him in his place.

Because of your high placements, you shared all of your classes together. One AP or Honors class after another, you had to see that stupid grin on his stupid face as he got a question right or corrected a teacher’s mistake. Not that he saw, because he was too busy putting his nose in books, reading chapters ahead of where the class was in the curriculum.

You figured the only way to beat him was to study your ass off. You already devoted a lot of your time to your studies, but that felt like child’s play compared to now. You had your lunch in the library, sneakily taking bites of food so the librarian would see you eating. As soon as you got home, you’d study for at least an hour. Sometimes, you’d even do some reading in the morning before you had to leave the house for school.

Chase finally seemed to notice you when one of your teachers posted the results of your latest tests. He was bewildered to see that someone had scored one point more than him. He looked around the class to try and figure out who it was, and when he saw you smirking at your grade, he knew it was you.

The silent competition between the two of you didn’t stop. Now that Chase was aware that you were rivaling him, he doubled his efforts, no matter how much teasing he got from his siblings.

Then, one day, the rivalry wasn’t so silent.

“Davenport.” You greeted him with a single word, not even looking at him.

“L/n.”

The two of you stood next to each other, looking at the grades you and your classmates got on a recent midterm. You lifted a finger, letting it scan over the names until you got to Chase’s.

“One hundred percent! Very good.” You mused, and you could see him smirking out of the corner of your eye.

“It was nothing.” He said with a shrug.

“Now… what did I get?” You asked yourself quietly, moving your finger until you got to your name. You both gasped, you with feigned surprise and him with disbelief. “One hundred and one percent! Wow.”

“How did you…” You finally turned to look at Chase, smiling innocently at him. His mouth hung open slightly, and you couldn’t help but lift his chin to close it.

“Mrs. Roberts told us there’d be a chance for extra credit. I guess you should’ve been more thorough.” The pleasure you felt from seeing Chase’s reaction made the grueling hours of studying immensely worth it. “Better luck next time.”

You walked away, a bit of a pep in your step now. Chase stared at you until you were out of sight, and then he sneered.

“Oh, it is on.”

***

For the rest of the year, you and Chase battled to be at the top of your classes. Extracurriculars just made the fight more intense. You’d win first place at the local science fair, he’d win first place at a debate championship. When one of you placed first, the other grumbled with their second-place trophy and swore they would win gold the next time.

You were actually excited for the end of the school year. The little rivalry you had formed with Chase Davenport was starting to wear you out, although you’d never say that out loud. Especially to him.

But before the school year could end, you had one more project for your history class. This time, you would be paired off with a classmate, and you’d have to work together to create a presentation on a specific era, highlighting important figures and events of the time.

“Please be someone good.” You muttered to yourself as your teacher read out the list of partners. Eventually, she got to you.

“Y/n L/n and Chase Davenport.”

You froze in your spot, not paying attention as she continued listing people before going into more detail on your project requirements. Your eyes darted to Chase, who was already looking at you. You couldn’t help but sneer at him. The one person you had a strong distaste for, an academic enemy, was now your partner on a month-long project that would greatly affect your final grade.

How could this go wrong?

“So…” The teacher gave you the last five minutes of class to talk to your partner. Chase stood next to your desk, looking down at you. “Do you want to go to your house or mine? For the project.”

“I don’t care.” You answered while packing your belongings into your backpack.

“How about my place then? We can go today after school.”

“Fine by me.”

***

You knew that the Davenports, their father to be more specific, were wealthy. But that information didn’t make you any less stunned when you saw the mansion at the end of your slightly uncomfortable and awkward walk with Chase. And you were even more taken aback when you walked inside. Sleek designs, attractive decor, and a beautiful view out of windows that made up an entire wall.

“We can go to my room,” Chase suggested as you took in your surroundings. “I have a lot of desk space there.”

“Okay.” You replied. You figured that the very least you could do was try to be civil with Chase. After all, this was an important grade, and you’d have to work with him for a whole month.

Chase pulled a stool to his desk for you to sit on while he settled into his desk chair. You took out your notebook and a pen, flipping to a blank page. Chase did the same.

“Do you have any ideas?” You asked, tapping the tip of your pen against the paper.

It took a while, but you eventually settled on the Elizabethan era. Considered a golden age and famous for different creative ventures such as theater and literature. It would be easy to fill a presentation with quality and interesting information. The two of you brainstormed different topics to bring up, writing them down in your notebooks when your pen suddenly stopped working.

“Damn.” You muttered, scribbling in the corner to try to get the ink to reappear.

“What’s wrong?” Chase asked, looking up from his paper to see you drop your pen in your bag and look around for a replacement.

“I ran out of ink.” You sighed in frustration, unable to find another writing utensil. You pulled your bag onto your lap for a closer look. “I swear I had-”

You cut yourself off when Chase’s hand came into view. He held a pen, waiting for you to take it. After a moment of hesitation, you grabbed it, setting your backpack down on the floor.

“Thanks.” You said, looking at the pen for a brief moment before getting back to writing.

***

Wanting to get as much useful information as possible, you decided to go to the library after school the next day. You didn’t know what Chase was doing, but you hoped that he would put as much effort into this as you were.

You headed straight for the classics section, knowing that Shakespeare was prominent during the time period you and Chase were looking into. You’ve had to read a few of his plays for different English classes, but you were eager to read them again.

Searching the bookshelves, you soon saw that Shakespeare’s plays were on the top shelf, which you could reach without a step stool. There were a few scattered around the library, but a quick glance showed that there wasn’t one in your section. You went to the next book aisle, hoping to find one.

“Y/n?” Chase’s voice startled you. He was in the next aisle, seeing you before you saw him. Although surprised by your presence, he offered you a polite smile. “What are you doing here?”

You had to tell yourself to hold back a snarky response. Although you didn’t care much for Chase inside of school, that didn’t mean you had to be a bitch to him outside of it. Besides, he was being pleasant to you. It confused you, but you decided not to ask him about it.

“Same as you, I’m thinking.” You finally say, noticing some books about English history stacked in his hands. “I’m looking for a stool to get the books I need.”

Spotting one at the end of the aisle, Chase grabbed the stool, balancing the small pile of books he had in one hand.

“Where’s your books?” He asked, waiting for you to lead the way. It stunned you a little that he didn’t just give you the stool or let you grab it yourself, but you decided not to overthink it.

Back in your section, he set the stool down where you needed it. Instead of saying goodbye and leaving, Chase stood by the bookcase, watching you stand on the footstool.

You started grabbing books, becoming more excited with each title you looked over. Now, having your own stack of books, you looked down and tried to carefully lower yourself to the ground.

“Careful,” Chase murmured, and you felt the warmth of his hand hover against your back. He didn’t touch you, but his hand stayed close until you were stable on the ground. “Don’t wanna, you know, ruin the books if you fall.”

You rolled your eyes before looking up at Chase, not realizing how close you were to him until now.

“Thanks.” You said a bit hesitantly.

“No problem.” He responded. The two of you stood in silence, not knowing how to continue. You wondered if you’d keep having moments like this with him. No glares or sour thoughts. Just a bit of silence caused by some friendly action. “Do you wanna come over tomorrow?”

“What?” You asked, not expecting the question.

“For the project.” Chase clarified.

“Oh. Sure, I think I’m free.”

“Great.” Chase smiled at you. “See you tomorrow then.”

***

You don’t know what was happening to you. It had been two weeks since you started working on this project with Chase, and he was gradually becoming the only thing on your mind. Sure, you thought about him often before this. But those thoughts were always accompanied by feelings of annoyance when he’d get a higher grade than you or disgust when he’d give you his signature smirk of condescension.

What you felt now was something hard to describe. It was something warm and enjoyable, but as enjoyable as it was, it made you slightly dread seeing Chase because you didn’t know what the feeling meant.

He didn’t even have to be around you for you to feel it. The other day you remembered that you still had the pen he let you borrow the first time you worked together. Looking at the pen and thinking about the memory made you smile, which you covered with your hand as you wondered why the small object got such a reaction out of you.

Suddenly remembering where you were, you pushed thoughts of Chase and the pen and how he was starting to make you feel out of your mind. You had to focus.

You were sat on Chase’s bed, supposed to be rereading Romeo and Juliet until you got distracted by your thoughts. Chase was at his desk, skimming through a history textbook. You played with the edge of the page you were on, about to return to reading, when Chase looked over his shoulder at you.

“You know, I’m surprised you’re still reading that.” He said, leaning back in his chair, deciding to take a break from studying. “Big, old-timey words. Thought that’d be too strenuous for you to handle.”

That was another change you noticed. You still poked and teased at each other. But lately, when Chase would do it, your cheeks would grow hot from some kind of feeling that was entirely unlike the anger and annoyance you usually felt.

“Very funny.” You deadpanned, yet you couldn’t help but smile a tiny bit. “I’m surprised you even know the meaning of the word ‘strenuous.’ Considering your size, you’d think your brain would be just as tiny.”

Chase kicked at your leg, rolling his eyes as you laughed.

“You’re hilarious.” He said, tone dripping with sarcasm. “Seriously, though, I don’t know how you’re not bored of that by now. Especially since you’ve read it before.”

“It’s considered a classic for a reason, Chase.” You said. “I mean, I obviously have problems with the story, like the age gap and the suicide without really checking if Juliet is dead. But you have to admit that some of the writing’s nice. Beautiful even.” You shifted into a more comfortable position. “I mean, listen to this. ‘O, swear not by the moon, the inconstant moon, that monthly changes in her circled orb, lest that thy love prove likewise variable.’” Before you could continue, Chase interrupted you.

“‘What shall I swear by?’” He recited, standing from his desk chair and moving to lay down on his side, a foot or two away from you. You looked at him with a questioning look.

“Since when could you recite Shakespeare?”

“I dunno, just can.” He answered with a shrug. “Keep going.”

You looked at him curiously for a few more seconds before turning back to the book.

“‘Do not swear at all; or, if thou wilt, swear by thy gracious self, which is the god of my idolatry, and I’ll believe thee.’”

“‘If my heart’s dear love-’”

“‘Well, do not swear: although I joy in thee, I have no joy of this contract to-night: It is too rash, too unadvised, too sudden; Too like the lightning, which doth cease to be ere one can say ‘It lightens.’ Sweet, good night!’” You paused to catch your breath, and you felt Chase’s eyes on you. Either you were crazy, or he was slowly inching closer to you. He looked at you expectantly but patiently, and you took another deep breath before returning to the page. “‘This bud of love, by summer’s ripening breath, may prove a beauteous flower when next we meet. Good night, good night! As sweet repose and rest come to thy heart as that within my breast!’”

Chase was even closer to you now, using his hands to keep himself stable as he raised from his laying position. Without meaning to, you leaned forward, closing the already shortening distance between you.

“O, wilt thou leave me so unsatisfied?’” Chase’s voice was quiet, but the words rang in your ears. You must have imagined it, you must have, but you could’ve sworn that for a second, his eyes were on your lips instead of locking with yours.

“‘What satisfaction canst thou have to-night?’” You recited softly. But you started to have a feeling that this was becoming less of a recitation and more of something else. Some kind of confession, you secretly hoped, disguised as casual quoting of someone else’s words of romance.

“‘The exchange of thy love’s faithful vow for mine.”’

“‘I gave thee mine before thou didst request it: and yet I would it were to give again.’” As you spoke the words, you realized that they indeed rang with truth.

Chase was now fully sitting up, and your breath hitched when you felt his hand snake around you to cup the back of your neck. You dropped the book in your lap, gaze fully fixated on his.

“‘Wouldst thou withdraw it?”’ Chase asked, using his other hand to hold your cheek, thumb sweeping over the bone. “‘For what purpose, love?’”

“I like when you call me that.” You whispered, too overwhelmed by his hands to continue reading the play.

“That’s not the line,” Chase responded, smiling before pulling your face to his and kissing you.

It was soft at first, as if you were both scared the other would realize they didn’t want this. But when that passed, the tension from the past two weeks, honestly the past year, made you hungry for each other. It wasn’t long until you were straddling Chase’s lap, book and project long forgotten. Chase’s hands trailed down your body, squeezing your hips before pulling away just enough to speak.

“So…” He started, needing to catch his breath. “Am I the god of your idolatry?”

You giggled, slapping his shoulder before wrapping your arms around them.

“I’m surprised you know how to pronounce ‘idolatry.’” Chase squeezed your hip once more at your teasing before kissing you again.

#agaypanic #chase davenport x reader #chase davenport #lab rats x reader #lab rats

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thegnomelord · 2 months

Note

(Hihi!! First ever ask so I’m a little worried :,) but you’re super cool so I’m giving it a shot 🫶)

About the hound fic, it briefly mentions Makarov ordering Hound to kill a member of their previous task force/141 and they don’t hesitate to do so, and it got me thinking;

Who did Hound kill? Unnamed Replacement Solider™? Roach? Or someone close to the 141 like Nikolai or Laswell?

And how does this affect the 141’s views on Hound after rescuing them?

Like Price who is fighting the exhausting battle with his superiors to let him try to help Hound instead of putting them down like a dog. The battle drains him, and he becomes snappier than usual, irritated by the fact that a small voice of doubt is telling him to give up.

Soap who would love his old comrade back but can’t let go of the fact Hound had killed a teammate he was close with. He wants to forgive and forget but one can’t just do that about the murder of a friend by another. He’s especially bothered by the fact that Hound didn’t seem to feel any guilt for their actions, at least not until they begin to return to their normal self.

Ghost who can’t let his guard down around Hound, fully believing he’d lost the old soldier he once knew. Always lurking nearby Hound, keeping his eyes on them, almost paranoid he’d lose another family team member. But deep down he hopes, and the internal conflict is tearing at him.

And Gaz who worries there’s no hope for Hound, conflicted between seeing them as the monster they’d been turned into or the person he once called a friend. He both pities Hound for what has become of them yet resents them for the harm they’d done to the task force and his friends. Gaz struggles to keep both those opposite emotions under wraps as whenever Hound is brought up.

O R have I completely misunderstood this one line? If I did I’m sorry for the ask :,)

That’s all I’ve got… wishing you a wonderful day/night and keep up the good work!!!

Honestly idk, I still don't know how I want the timeline to go. Current idea is that only Ghost and Price knew Hound before Makarov got them, so Johnny and Gaz wouldn't have known him. When I wrote the one shot it was definitely just gonna be some random soldier, but now you're giving me IDEAS

Also I swear you took the blurb about Price STRAIGHT out of my head. You are reading my mind lol

What if Hound did kill Roach n it was filmed and sent to Price and Ghost and Johnny (who let's say was friends with Roach but didn't know Hound before, Gaz comes later so he wouldn't know any of this) and either Hound was masked or just so worn down from the 1-1.5 years of Makarov's care that they just didn't recognize him?

That little extra twist of the knife when Price and Ghost find out that makarov's right hand is not only the man they thought was dead, but that he killed their sargent in cold blood? UGHSDHF

#gnome's tea break #gnome correspondence #cod mw2 #good dog fic #Hound-reader

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illicitlimerence-writes · 2 years

Text

a conversation stuck in your throat | m. verstappen

pairing: max verstappen x singer!actress!reader word count: 8.3k words request: yes, by anons: “hii! i absolutely love looove looooooooove the soft!boyfriend!max fic you posted! could you do one where him and y/n went from friends to lovers and it's y/n's first time (so their first time together as well) and max makes sure it's as sensual and loving as possible (he just wants to spoil her and show her how much he loves her)? basically lots of fluff (and smut I guess lol) 💕💕💕” & “hii hope you’re doing good! can I request a jealous max please? maybe he gets possessive and protective and it ends fluffly? idk I’m not too good at this lmaoo. thank youu <33” & “desperate making out w max v in a club? reader and him are together/best friends” & “I have a desperate need for a blurb with sick!reader and soft max taking care of her/them 🥺” & “hi babes 💗 i hope its okay to request this. i have an idea for a max v fic, inspired by dress by taylor swift? maybe they started off as best friends and then they started dating but they didn't announce it to the public so everyone just thinks they are best friends still? and maybe the golden tattoo he left on her as a mark is a tattoo reader got for him? either 'max' or '33' in golden ink? idk if this exists in real life lol. and reader is a singer and actress? this fic could maybe be little moments between them? like with time jumps but this is just an idea feel free to make it yours 💗” those were a lot of reqs wow. i hope you all like it!!!!!!!!!!! warnings: smut (18+ only, minors dni), language, christi*n h*rner (only for a tiiiny bit tho), (legal) drinking, i'm sure there's more that i missed lolol. a/n: this is one of my favorite pairings i’ve ever written. i swear. i already want to write more for these two. as always thank you to my cousin @ireallydontknowdudee for helping me proofread<3

my masterlist / / click here to read part one ‘superheroes and flat caps’ (you have to read that one first, otherwise this one won’t make much sense lolol) / / click here to listen to the playlist i made for these fics

june 30th, 2021. spielberg, austria.

the club was dark and the music was loud. there were bodies pressed together, people grinding on each other. the alcohol was present and common sense was long gone.

she had been a little apprehensive at first, she wasn’t too sure about the decision to drive to the club a few miles away from their hotel, but max had convinced her. and she’d do pretty much anything if it made max happy.

it was their first time clubbing together, and she was curious to see what type of drunk max was. since they still had to drive back, and she had to be up and presentable early the next day, they had agreed to not get too drunk. but that didn’t mean that they couldn’t have fun and enjoy the night celebrating her and her achievements.

“another one?” max’s breath on her ear made her skin get goosebumps, since the music was deafeningly loud, he had to lean incredibly close to her so she could hear him. she turned around and acted as if it didn’t affect her.

“i want tequila,” she replied, standing on her tiptoes to reach his ear. she leaned back and watched a smirk appearing on his lips. since they’d arrived max had been asking her to do tequila shots with him, since he claimed he knew a perfect method for it. she’d refused, sticking to drinks that weren’t so strong. but she wanted to please him this one time.

“i knew you’d change your mind, come on,” he was quick to grab her hand and lead her away from the crowd of people dancing. they reached the bar and max asked for four tequila shots to be sent their way. they walked to their private booth, where they’d left their coats and her bag. the security guard that looked after that section let them in without too much trouble, they were the only vips of the night.

she sat down first, sliding on the seat until she was pressed between the wall and max’s body. she laughed at his actions, he was behaving like an excited, hyperactive kid. he leaned in to kiss her cheek, something he always did when they were alone. since the beginning of their friendship she started noticing that there were certain things that max only did with her. touching, or showing any type of physical affection was one of them.

she didn’t find it weird or anything, she was familiar with the different types of love language, she just figured that touching was max’s. plus, she wasn’t complaining. she liked feeling loved, and that was how max made her feel. despite the short amount of time that they’d known each other, they’d grown to call each other ‘best friends’ rather quickly.

“so, what’s this great new method you were bragging about?” she leaned close to his ear.

“ah, impatient, much?” he grinned, she rolled her eyes, nudging his ribs with her elbow. “there’s really not much of a difference. it’s salt, shot, lime,”

“you do your shots with salt and lime?” she teased, raising her eyebrows, “pussy.”

“what?” max asked, taken aback.

“the best part of tequila is the burn. the ache that makes you want more, that feels so great once it’s gone, but is what keeps you going.” she spoke about tequila like one would talk about a lover, she made it feel intimate. “but fine, we’ll try your way,”

“well now my way sounds like bullshit,” max laughed, and she chuckled, leaning her forehead against his shoulder.

“we’ll do both,” she declared, watching the bartender drop off the tray with the hard liquor. “you go first,” she encouraged him. max nodded, grabbing the salt and a slice of lime.

“your hair,” he said, she frowned, “move your hair out of the way,” she did, throwing her hair over the other shoulder. “lean back,” he told her, holding her chin and tilting her head back, exposing her neck.

“what are you doing?” she asked.

“do you trust me?”

“of course.”

in the dark of the club, max held the sour lime between his fingers, then ran it up and down her neck, twice. she gasped, and max could feel her breath hitching as he touched her. next, he grabbed the salt. he poured some over the line of lime juice he’d just drawn.

she turned her face lightly to see him. his eyebrows were drawn together in concentration, she could tell, just by the way he was pinching his lips together, that a million thoughts were running through his head.

“don’t chicken out on me now,” she said, and max let out a breath of relief, he thought maybe he’d crossed a line. yes, they were close, but they’d never done something like this.

he did it. he leaned forward, licked a stripe up her neck, felt her quickening heartbeat beneath his touch. he brought the liquor up to his lips, downing it all in one go. her soft hands grabbed the lime from his hold and lifted it up to his mouth. he sucked on it, opening his eyes after wincing as he tasted three different things in a really short time, one after the other.

she was breathing hard, staring at him, the skin of her throat was tingling, she got lost in the blue of his eyes, which under the neon lights and combined with the darkness of the room, looked crystal clear.

“you’re up,” max said, she smiled, and just like that, they were back to normal.

they stumbled into her hotel floor, max was holding her waist, keeping her stable, her legs were like jello, so she kept her back pressed against max’s chest.

“i told you…” she paused to giggle, “i couldn’t drink too much,” she smiled, slapping max’s chest lightly. he was grinning, too, he had one arm around her middle, pushing her against his front as his other hand slid inside the pocket of his jeans to grab the key to her room.

“and i told you to quit after shot number three,” he raised an eyebrow as she rolled her eyes.

“boo, you whore,” she moved her head to the side so he could see her, and stuck her tongue out, max just laughed as he shook his head. he unlocked the door, opening it and letting her in first. he turned on the light, and watched her flinch and cover her eyes with her hands, “nooo, it hurts,”

“what hurts?” he asked, furrowing his eyebrows at the thought of her in any sort of distress.

“my eyes, turn it off,” she peeked between her fingers, and was suddenly engulfed by darkness as he obliged, “thank youuu,” she sang, stretching the last word. “you’re the best. you, maximilian verstappen, are the best friend anyone could ever ask for.”

“thanks, right back atcha. but, you got my name wrong,” he approached her. there was light coming from the city outside, which helped guide him to her.

“what?” she frowned, tilting her head to the side.

“it’s not maximilian, it’s max emilian.” he said, slowly, and watched as her eyes flickered down to his lips, “two words,”

“hmm…” she narrowed her eyes, “i like it. emilian. it’s cute.”

“well, thank you,” he smiled. and she smiled. “now, come on, let’s get you to bed, you’ve got a big day tomorrow,” he placed his hand on her shoulder, she sighed and started walking, holding her arms out in front of her to prevent stumbling into something.

“can you come with me?”

“to bed?” he asked, chuckling. she rolled her eyes.

“to atlanta,” she sat on the bed, crossing her legs beneath her. “i’m going to be all alone over there, i’ll have no one and i need my best friend,”

“well…i don’t think i can make the trip to and from in time,” even in the dark, he could see the way her face fell, “but i can drive you to the airport, would that be okay?”

“i guess…”

“hey, you’ll be fine. i have more i’d like to say but we’re both too drunk, so i’ll tell you in the morning… okay?”

“okay. in the morning.”

“yeah,” he smiled, then took a step back, “i’ll pick you up tomorrow, then,”

“no,” she said, and extended her arm, “stay.”

“well, i don’t really want to sleep on a couch, but…”

“no, dumbass,” she laughed, dropping her back down against the soft pillows and mattress, “here, the bed is big enough,” she patted the spot next to her. she was right, this bed was one of the biggest he’d ever seen.

“but you- i-”

“it’s fine. i don’t mind. as long as you don’t snore,”

“you’re lucky, then.” he gave in, climbing into bed next to her.

september 1st, 2021.zandvoort, netherlands.

“why is three your favorite number?”

“what kind of question is that?” he asked. lifting his head from the arm of the couch.

they were in zandvoort, just in time for the dutch grand prix, max’s home race. it was the first time he was racing there, and he needed a good result. she’d been with him since last week, the italian grand prix, one that she hadn’t gotten to enjoy as much as she wanted to, given max’s sad result. she knew that it had gotten in his mind, he was at a critical stage of the championship, and every point counted. hence, why they were now in his hotel room, enjoying the last day of peace and quiet before the chaos that came with a new grand prix weekend.

“i’m just preparing you for the weekend,” she responded, a smirk on her face as he rolled his eyes. she liked this, the teasing back and forth, the jokes. the trust they had on each other.

“i swear, if i have to answer ‘what do you expect from this weekend?’ one more time i’m gonna…” he didn’t finish, just shook his head as he huffed.

“they’re just doing their jobs,” she reminded him.

“i know that. but why can they come up with new questions, actually interesting ones?”

“i don’t know dude, i haven’t done interviews in a long time,”

“lucky you,” he sighed. “it gets old, answering the same thing over and over again. and there are some people that- the way they ask, they want to get a reaction out of you. and of course i’m not going to give them the satisfaction.”

“but you’re not going to let them treat you that way,”

“yeah.”

“that’s why i like you. you have so much pressure on yourself right now, i know you feel it so don’t even try to deny it. but you’re capable of pushing it aside, that’s a great skill to have being who you are,”

“who we are,” he corrected her, “don’t forget you’re famous too, my friend,”

“yeah, whatever, but people don’t stop me for pictures as much as you.”

“give it a few months,”

“no thanks,” she laughed. “i like my life just the way it is,”

“really? you wouldn’t change anything?”

“no, i don’t think so,” she shook her head.

“nothing?” he smirked, she frowned, watching as he raised his eyebrows. “not even your… condition?”

“condition?” she asked, “i’m not sick or anything…”

“no, but you are a…” he raised his fist to his mouth, covering it, “virgin,” he coughed as he said the word.

“oh my god,” she rolled her eyes, grabbing a pillow and throwing it his way. he could’ve moved, could’ve dodged it, but he let it hit his face, he grabbed it and put it on his lap. “emilian, shut the fuck up,”

“i just can’t believe you-”

“so i haven’t met the right guy, so what? it’s not that big of a deal,”

“if it’s not that big of a deal why haven’t you-”

“because it doesn’t matter! the concept of ‘virginity’ is such bullshit anyway. men and society have ruined sex for many of us, it’s gotta be more than just physical desire. and i’m not saying there’s nothing wrong with that, you do you, do whatever the hell you want to with your body and partner, or partners, as long as it’s consensual,” she ranted, the words were leaving her lips quickly, he didn’t know this was a sensitive or important topic for her, since he found out about her lack of sexual experience one time when they were joking, as they usually did. “i'm just not like that, i want it to mean something, not just because it's my first time, that's bullshit, but because the other person loves me and cares for me enough to know how to treat me and cherish me the way i deserve."

"you want the whole… flower petals on the bed? lit candles thing?"

"shut up," she groaned, "i just want to find the right person. and once i do that, i'm sure everything will just… fall into place," max felt bad, he didn't mean to upset her at all, she'd told him that not a lot of people knew about her lack of experience, and some of the people that knew told her she was being overdramatic.

"well… i think it's nice that you're waiting for the right person. just make sure they're clean, though,"

"don't worry," she laughed, "i will."

“you'll have new material for songs after that." be pointed out, she smiled. "how’s the album going, by the way?” he asked, sitting up, with his back against the arm of the couch.

“meh, it’s going…” she dropped her head down, looking up at the ceiling. “inspiration’s not hitting me right now,”

“well… what do you usually do to get out of this…”

“writer’s block,” she finished for him, then sighed, “i don’t know. i’ve never experienced this before. words always just seemed to… come to me when i needed them. but now it’s… they’re gone,”

he raised his eyebrows, he could tell that this was something new to her, he saw the way her left leg was shaking, something she did when she wasn’t comfortable.

“i’m sure you’ll figure something out,” he smiled, she lifted her head from the pillows to smile at him, too.

“you didn’t answer the question,” she reminded him. “why is 3 your favorite number?”

“i… i don’t know. i’ve always liked it. i like the fact that if you complete the circles it becomes an 8.”

“oh, you’re right,” she nodded. “next question…” she said, turning on her side, “would you ever get a tattoo?”

“hmm… maybe?” he looked up at the ceiling, “i think it depends on what it is. you?”

“same. i saw online something about golden ink, not yellow, gold. with sparkles.”

“you like sparkles?” max smiled teasingly.

“i love sparkles,” she chuckled.

his phone buzzed, and he unlocked it, seeing a text from one of the media guys, who’d sent him a link to a youtube video. he tapped it, and the app loaded, he read the title and a big grin spread across his face.

“look at this,” he stood up, walking to the bed and sitting down on it, they were sitting shoulder to shoulder now.

“it’s up?” she asked as she read the title.

"uh-huh," he projected it onto the tv in front of them, their smiling faces plastered on the flat screen.

june 24th, 2021.spielberg, austria.

they arrived at the track, the red bull ring. he’d made her drive, of course, to get her used to being behind the wheel, as he’d claimed.

“are you ready?”

“no.” she rolled her eyes, opening the door and stepping out. max followed her, a grin on his face as he threw an arm around her shoulders.

“come on, it’s just going to be us,”

“yeah, and everybody else working here, fans waiting outside the track, everyone will see me crash that car and you,” she slid his arm off her, “are going to pay for it,”

“you’re not going to crash. it’s not that difficult,”

“yeah, you drive cars at ridiculously high speed, you don’t get to tell me what is or isn’t difficult.”

“noted,” he said, his arm finding her shoulder again. she left it there this time, she needed the comfort. they reached the red bull hospitality, dropped their stuff in his room and walked downstairs. “i have to go do the conference thing… won’t be more than thirty minutes,” he said, she nodded, giving him a tight-lipped smile.

“i know, we’ve been through this before, max,” she told him, “i’ll be fine, i’ll look some videos up to refresh my memory,”

“okay. don’t be nervous, it’s just gonna be us, remember?”

“yeah, i know. just us.”

they were approached by the red bull team principal, she immediately took a step to the side, she didn’t like him that much.

“car’s ready, cameras are ready,”

“cameras?” she asked, looking at max.

“why cameras?” he asked, placing a hand on her shoulder.

“marketing thought it’d be great for publicity, your friendship has a great presence on social media.”

“i told you this was a bad idea,” she told max, taking a step away from him.

“well, i didn’t know they were going to turn this into a media thing. but it’ll be fine, i promise,”

“yeah, now the entire world will watch me destroy a car,”

“i’d appreciate if you didn’t-” horner interrupted.

“oh, don’t worry, your golden boy will be paying for it,”

“and i told you you’re not going to crash, you have enough space to drive safely here.” he reassured her, sliding his arm around her shoulder, squeezing her against him, “but if you feel more comfortable without the cameras i’m sure we can figure something out,”

“it’s gonna get out anyway,” she sighed. “fine, let’s do this,”

“look at your face!” max laughed as he pointed at the tv. she cackled, too, watching her past self holding tightly to whatever surface was near her when max sped up as he followed the curves, instead of slowing down.

“my heart was pounding so hard,” she rested her head against max’s shoulder, “and my stomach was down to my ass,” she continued laughing.

“yeah, i wasn’t helping either,” he admitted, and she rolled her eyes. “you had fun, though,”

“i did. i did, it was fun. but we’re not doing it again,”

november 23rd, 2021.monte-carlo, monaco.

she could barely keep her eyes open as she walked to the door, the sound of the doorbell ringing made her head pound.

“i waited for you for like half an hour wha- whoa, you’re sick,” max said as she opened the door.

“oh, god. i forgot about the… i’m sorry-”

“no, no, it’s fine. are you okay?” he asked, lifting the back of his hand and pressing it against her forehead to check her temperature.

“fine, just… a cold,” she said as she wrapped the blanket tighter around her. “you should… probably leave now, i don’t want to get you sick,” she brought the inside of her elbow up to her mouth, covering it as she coughed into it.

“that’s not a cold,” his eyes widened, and he put his hands on her shoulders, pushing her back inside her house.

“wh- what are you doing? you have to leave, you’ll get sick too!”

“yeah, well too bad, i’m already in.” he shrugged his shoulder as he dropped his hand to his sides, he extended one arm, touching her hand. “and i’m taking care of you today,” he stated. it wasn’t a question, and he didn’t leave her room for complaints. “because i’m your friend, and that’s what friends do.” she smiled, holding back a cough, “and you look like hell. i want to get material for blackmail,” he raised his phone quickly, snapping a picture of her.

“stop it!” she cackled, hitting his shoulder. her laughs were interrupted when she started coughing, “i hate you.” she leaned forward, resting her forehead on his shoulder. he wrapped his arms around her, rubbing up and down her back with one hand. “thanks,”

“anytime.”

“i’ll pay you back when you get sick,”

“i never get sick,” max said, raising an eyebrow confidently.

“we’ll see about that,” she said, coughing into his shoulder.

“fuck you,” he laughed.

“thank you.”

“have you gone to the doctor?” he asked her after a few seconds.

“i facetimed my friend. ordered the meds. shit, that reminds me, i have to take my meds at 6,” she thought out loud.

“okay, that’s good. now, let’s go sit, you need to rest.”

“that’s dumb,”

“you’re dumb.”

“you’re being aggressive.”

“i’m allowed to be aggressive.”

“why? cause you’re sick?”

“exactly.”

“it’s still dumb.”

“he loves her,” she explains.

“then why doesn’t he say it?” he asked, frowning at the characters in the movie they were watching.

“cause he’s nervous! and he doesn’t want to risk their friendship by telling her.”

“but she clearly loves him too. why doesn’t he see it?”

“because boys are… dumb,” she gave in, agreeing with max. “they don’t see what’s good even if it’s right in front of them.” she said, shaking her head.

“that sounded personal… you alright?”

“fuck off,” she laughed, then broke into a fit of coughs. “i think you’re making me more harm than good,” she said once she recovered. she heard max chuckling under his breath, saw him leaning forward to grab a glass of water that was on the coffee table in front of them. he handed it to her, “thanks,” she whispered as she drank from it, taking a deep breath after she was done.

“nurse max at your orders,” he said, leaning back against her soft couch, “i love this thing,” he said, running his hand over the back of it.

“what?”

“your couch,”

“it is my proudest purchase,” she smiled. her eyes drifted back to the tv, seeing the girl on the other side of the screen watching the love of her life walk away. she rolled her eyes, her head drifting to the side, she leaned it against max’s shoulder.

“you tired?” he asked, not daring to move, as it would disturb her.

“a little.” she answered, being interrupted by a yawn.

“go ahead, i’m not going anywhere,” he said, she smiled.

“good.”

loud blaring woke her up, she sat up, looking around as she tried to locate the sound. she turned to her left, seeing max rubbing his eyes. he’d fallen asleep as well.

“what’s that?” she asked.

“sorry, i fell asleep. it’s the alarm,” he grabbed his phone from the coffee table turning the alarm off. “come on,” max got up, extending his hand out to her.

“why?” she grunted, grabbing his hand and letting him help her up, they walked to her kitchen. max grabbed a new glass and filled it with water.

“it’s six. time for your meds,” he said, sliding the cup her way. she frowned.

“you set up an alarm… to remind me to take my meds?” she said, slowly, the words sinking in as she spoke.

“yeah, he shrugged, like it was nothing, “i want you to get better soon, and you need your meds for that,”

“aw, you care about me,” she teased, popping the pill in her mouth and downing the glass of water.

“duh,” he rolled his eyes, walked over to her and wrapped his arms around her.

she held back a grin, biting the inside of her cheeks. she thought back to atlanta, when max surprised her not once, but twice. he’d done so much for her in the time they’d known each other, he knew her better than anyone else, better than she knew herself even.

max verstappen had turned her world upside down the moment he walked in.

or, she’d changed his the moment she stumbled into him.

maybe that’s why the shift from being friends to lovers was so smooth.

december 12th, 2021.abu dhabi, uae.

she held the bottle of vodka in her hand, she tried to keep her hands steady, but she was laughing too much, which made her shake.

“just go for it!” max said. she nodded, and max leaned his head back, opening his mouth, waiting for her. she tilted the bottle down, and the hard liquor started pouring down, into max’s mouth. his friends around them watched expectantly, waiting for him to declare when it was enough. she waited to feel the squeeze on her hip, but it never came. so she stopped. “that’s enough for now,” she said, max leaned forward.

“more,” he said. she shook her head, smiling.

“let’s do tequila shots instead,” her words caught his attention, and max’s eyes seemed to shine brighter than they did when he jumped out of his car earlier that night.

he grabbed her hand, walked to the bar and asked for a bottle of tequila, limes and salt. she hung onto his arm, wrapping her free arm around it as she leaned her forehead against his shoulder.

“come on, let’s go upstairs,” he told her, placing a kiss on the top of her head. she leaned back, a small smile on her face as she looked up at him.

“i’m so proud of you,” she said, letting go of him, lifting her hands and placing them on his cheeks. “you deserve this championship.”

“thank you,” he moved his head to kiss the palm of her hand. she chuckled, taking her hands off to help him with the bottle of liquor. “let’s get wasted.”

she’d be lying if she said she hadn’t been waiting for this moment since the first time back in austria. sometimes, if she closed her eyes and thought back to that night, she swore she could still feel his hot breath against her neck, his wet tongue gathering the salt, his lips barely on hers as he collected the lime. she wanted to feel that again. she wanted it every day.

they slipped away unnoticed, everyone was way too drunk to notice their absence, which was odd since they were all there to celebrate max. but they didn’t care, this wasn’t something they wanted everyone else to see. max sat down on a stool, a table by his side. he placed a plate with limes and the salt shaker on it, and watched her place the bottle there too. she stood in front of him, and he put his hands on her waist, pulling her close to him.

“sit,” he said. she raised an eyebrow. she placed her hands on his knees, pushing his legs together. then, she climbed on his lap.

“better?” she asked, her voice breathy.

“better,” he confirmed. she smiled, and everything she could see was blue. the blue of his eyes that never left her face. they stared deep into her, as if he was meeting her for the first time, as if she were the only thing that existed at that moment. she watched his eyes move slowly, they inspected her, memorizing every inch of her. she saw as a corner of his mouth twitched, her eyes went to his lips.

she loved his lips. she’d never told him that, but she liked that they were full and thick, and fit him perfectly. he took a deep breath as he noticed her eyes drifting down, his lips parted, and she felt his breath hit her chin, since she was on top of him, she had to look down to see him. she wanted to taste his lips, she decided at that moment.

she placed her hands on his shoulders, leaning forward. the hands on her hips gripped tighter, and max straightened his back, it was almost an automatic response when he felt nervous, and it brought him closer to her faster than either of them expected.

“m-max,” she whispered, her eyes on his. she saw as his eyes drifted down to her lips, “can i-”

she couldn’t finish her question, she was cut off by that pair of lips that she’d been dreaming of since they met, they were on hers, kissing her hard. a whimper escaped her throat, being swallowed by him as he tilted his head to the side and leaned forward, pushing her head back. one of his hands left her waist, he placed it on the back of her head, keeping her there. her hands were on his face now, and she felt him shudder beneath her touch.

later, as she found herself unable to sleep, she’ll think about this. how max basically melted under the touch of her fingertips against his face. she held him gently, compared to the rough battle their lips had at that moment.

max swore he was tasting a piece of heaven. when he was younger, he’d had to convince himself that he was in love with his partners. but the truth was, no one could make him feel the way she did. his feelings for her were strong and true and real. he didn’t have to convince himself this time. he knew it. and it scared him.

the kiss was growing desperate, one of her hands slid down to his neck, and she could feel his rapid heartbeat beneath the layers of skin. he leaned back, looking up at her through his long lashes, his lips parted as he breathed in. she felt goosebumps running down her back as she saw him in that state. his hands slid down to her waist again, and this time, she grabbed him by his perfect ashy brown hair and brough his lips to hers.

she wanted him. that was a fact that she’d tried to fight since it first came to mind. she wanted to blame the alcohol in their systems, but she knew it just gave her the courage to do it. these actions were all hers.

she broke the kiss, her hands on his chest, feeling his heart beating quickly beneath her touch. she leaned her forehead against his, closing her eyes as she tried to catch her breath. these actions were all hers. and that scared her.

“i can’t- i-” she panted, her chest heaving as she breathed in and out. she was afraid to open her eyes. what if-

“(y/n)...” his voice was breathy as he said her name. she felt chills, she felt time stopping as he called her name. but she could feel fear creeping up her back.

“no, max- we- we’re friends…” she opened her eyes, looking down. his hand went up to her chin, he leaned back but kept her in place, “we can’t-”

“cause we’re friends. i know,” he said, she saw him blinking twice, he swallowed a lump in his throat. she was right, they were just friends, and their friendship was too valuable to risk it.

she closed her eyes, swallowing the words, the conversation stuck in her throat.

december 13th, 2021.abu dhabi, uae.

she woke up with max by her side. he was warm, she liked that he was warm. she smiled as she placed her head on his chest, throwing an arm over his stomach as she snuggled against him. somewhere between the hours of 1 and 3am, they’d thrown all cautions out the window.

‘i love you, and not like a best friend. i don’t want you like a best friend.’

she was in love with max verstappen. and somehow, he was in love with her, too.

“do you not sleep?” she was startled as she heard his voice. it was deep and rough and raspy, and she wanted to hear more of it.

“did i wake you?” she whispered, looking up at him.

“well considering the fact that you’re squeezing me to death, letting me unable to breathe, i’ll say that was a great factor to me waking up,” he dropped his head down on the pillow as she chuckled, holding onto him tightly.

“can you blame me?” she asked, daring to place a kiss on his chest.

“no, i can’t blame you,” he smiled, sliding an arm beneath her, he moved her so she was now sitting on top of him. she raised an eyebrow.

“you like me being on top, don’t you?” she teased, leaning down, her lace covered breasts touching his chest, her lips hovered over his.

“it’s the greatest view,” he leaned in, pressing his lips against hers. she breathed in deeply, her hands going up to his face. she loved the feeling of his lips on hers.

“so much pining, anticipation…” she said as she breathed, diving back in, “desperately waiting.” her lips went down to his neck, where the evidence of the night before was littering his skin. they hadn’t had sex, max knew that had to be her choice, and he sure as hell didn’t want their first time together to be like that. “you know i woke up late… that day we met,” she said, her nails running up and down his stomach, where she could feel his muscles tensing, “or maybe… i woke up just in time to stumble into you.”

she sat up, looking for his hands. he laced their fingers together, keeping them by her sides as he sat up as well, coming face to face with her.

“and now… i get to wake up by your side.”

“my hands shake,” he said, “i’ve noticed that… whenever i know that i’m going to see you, my hands start shaking. and since last saturday, they never stopped shaking, because i didn’t know when i would see you again.”

“and now you know,” she said, bringing his hands up to her lips, between them, “you know that i’m never leaving your side.”

“good.”

“you’ve changed my life. i didn’t know i could connect with someone, so deeply and real, and i’ve loved being your friend, but now… i want more.”

“i used to be lucky enough to call my best friend, way back before you were my everything,” he said, making her breath hitch, he leaned in, letting go of one of her hands to move her hair away, his lips touched her neck. “now i’m sucking your neck,”

“you did that before, though,” she said, sighing at the feeling, “with tequila,”

“it’s different now,” he continued, “now, i just want to lay back, and watch you pin me to the bed,” he confessed, “and we’ll get as far as you want to.”

“give it time,” she said, kissing his cheek as she obeyed, she pushed him back against the bed, one of her hands slid up to his throat. “is this what you imagined?”

“this is much better,” he smiled, “and no pressure. you’re the boss here.”

he waited. she waited. they waited until she was sure she couldn’t fall more in love with him, but she realized that day would never come since max found a way, each day, to make her feel like the only girl in the world.

so she tried.

february 14th, 2022.monte-carlo, monaco.

she sat on top of max, with her knees on either side of him. she held his face with one hand, the other was curled around his soft strands of hair. their lips were tangled together, and even with that certainty that they were as close as possible, she could still feel max’s hands shaking on top of her hips.

“i want-” she started, breaking the kiss to speak, she pressed her forehead against his, “i’m ready.” she said. “i’m ready. i want you,”

“wh- you-” max started, but was cut off by her lips on his again.

“please. it’s valentine’s day, and- and i bought this new dress, that i know i look hot in,”

“so hot,” he said, kissing his way down to her neck.

“and i bought it… just so you could take it off. so, max emilian verstappen,” she pulled him by his hair, making him look at her, “take this dress off, and fuck me like you love me.”

she was breathing hard, and she could feel the way her words were affecting him. she’d gotten used to teasing him, learning what he liked, what made him sigh and beg for more. she wanted him to be the one begging, but if things went well that night, she’d hopefully be hearing that soon.

“i love you, deeply and true. it’s real and intense, and passionate. it’s full of desire and complete love. i don’t think there’s another word to describe it other than… love. so, no, i won’t fuck you like i love you… i’ll worship,” he kissed her neck, “i’ll cherish,” he nipped at the skin, making her sigh, her hips moved forward involuntarily, “i’ll love you that way.”

max took his time with her. her mind had gone blank, she let herself just feel.

he continued biting, sucking her neck. he could feel the way she was breathing fast, he lifted his hand and wrapped it around her throat, his lips met hers as he flipped both of them over, setting her over the covers softly. the red dress she wore made her look like a goddess. a goddess of seduction, temptation. her hair framed her face, in a way that made him want her more. her eyes looked brighter, her skin was glowing, her lips were full, swollen.

desire turned her into a whole different woman.

no, desire brought out the goddess hiding inside the woman.

“come,” max said, grabbing her hands. he helped her up, they stood in front of the other, max brought his hands up to her face, holding her gently. “i love you. i’ve loved you since the first moment. let me love you how you deserve to be loved.”

“please,” she whispered. he leaned closer, and they kissed, slow, deep. he slipped the straps of her dress down her shoulders, his hands moved to the back, finding the zipper. “take it off,” she sighed.

“patience,” he said, pecking her lips.

“i’m done being patient. i’ve already waited long enough to have you,” she said, max wanted to smirk, wanted to keep the game going, but this wasn’t the time.

he started pulling the dress down, and as the fabric abandoned her body, he made sure to cover it with kisses. his lips met every inch of skin that was available to him. he paid extra attention to her breasts, played with them and relished in every sigh, whimper and praise that left her lips. that made max work harder. he didn’t want to stop hearing those words coming from her.

minutes later, max couldn’t wipe the grin off his face as he climbed on top of her, his lips were glistening, and she was biting her lips as she watched him. she held his face and pressed their lips together, tasting herself as well. she was still coming from the highs of her orgasm when she felt his fingers on her core again.

“max, please,” she whispered. his fingers were replaced by his cock, and she bit her lip, hissing.

“no turning back now,”

“i’m not even going to try,” she smiled, wrapping her arms around his neck.

adrenaline, lust, love was rushing through their veins. this feeling was inescapable, not that either of them wanted to be somewhere else, feel something else. this was better than anything they’d ever felt, experienced before.

when they met, not even a year ago, they didn’t imagine that they’d be there at that moment.

“i love you,” she said, feeling another orgasm approaching as max gently moved his hips.

“you’ll love this,” he said, grabbing her hips and flipping them over, so she was on top.

“oh,” she whimpered, this new position gave her all the control, it let her feel everything. "oh, wow,"

“it's your turn now," max smiled, feeling her nails clawing at his chest, "what was it that you said? fuck me like you love me."

“fuck yes,” she whimpered, feeling max burying his hands on her hips as she started moving back and forth, getting used to this new sensation. “fuck, that feels amazing,” she threw her head back as she placed her hands on max’s chest, when she was ready, she raised her hips, then sank back down.

“god, you are amazing,” he grunted, helping her fuck herself on his cock. he laid back against the pillows, in awe of the beauty that was her. her, wrapped up in the bliss and pleasure that she was getting from using him.

“so, so good,” she whispered, furrowing her eyebrows as she leaned forward, pressing her lips against max’s, their sweaty foreheads colliding as she sped up her movements.

“i can feel you…” he paused, grunting, “your walls tightening around me, fuck,” his voice was deep and rough, she shuddered as she heard him, unaware that she’d been doing it.

“that’s… good?” she asked between sighs, max had planted his feet on the mattress, raising his hips to meet her thrusts.

“it’s great, so great,” he panted, her movements were becoming uneven, she was getting close to another sweet release. “i got you,” max said, taking charge of the thrusts.

her fingers were wrapped around his hair, since he didn’t have that many public outings at that moment, he’d let his hair grow freely, she loved it. she loved all of him, every piece, every imperfection, everything.

he loved that he’d let her learn what she wanted, what she liked, to make this moment, one that he knew meant a lot to her, the best and most perfect experience.

june 12th, 2022.baku, azerbaijan.

“shit, shit, shit,” she muttered as she almost ran to the garage. it was fifty minutes before the race, and she was late. so, so late. max had been texting her every five minutes, texts she’d received about thirty minutes ago, when her plane landed.

perks of being famous and rich, a helicopter ride solved most of her problems.

she made her way through the people, fans, and other random vip guests that crowded the paddock. once she was inside the red bull garage she leaned against a wall to catch her breath.

“finally! he’s been driving all of us crazy,” she heard someone talking to her, and she sighed as she saw max’s race engineer, gianpiero with an exhausted look on his face.

“i know,” she breathed, “i know, but my flight got delayed, and then the-” her words were cut off when suddenly a body almost jumped on top of her. she wrapped her arms around max, “hey, i’m so sorry i’m late.”

“it’s fine,” his words came out muffled, he had his face hidden in her neck.

“were you terrorising everyone without me?” she snickered.

“can you blame me? you were supposed to be here yesterday, i was bored.”

“oh, so i’m just something for your entertainment?” she laughed, max leaned back.

“maybe…” he smiled sheepishly, she rolled her eyes and grabbed his face, leading his lips to hers.

“i want to show you something,” she said once he leaned back, letting her see his eyes for the first time in three weeks.

“max, come on, time to head out,” someone said, and she groaned internally.

“i’m sorry, i-”

“go, go, i’ll be right here, okay?” she smiled, pressing her lips against max’s one more time. “good luck, champ. this win is yours,”

“hopefully.” he chuckled.

“i’m sure of it, and i’m never wrong,” she raised an eyebrow.

“whoa,” he laughed, “i can count at least fifteen times you’ve said that in the past six months and… surprise, surprise, you were wrong,” she laughed, slapping his arm.

“go. before i leave you unable to drive that stupid car,” he grabbed her hips and brought her close, connecting their lips again.

the feeling of being right is one that she loved. she liked being smug for once, to look someone in the eye and say ‘i told you so’.

she was prepared to do that, but then she saw max wink at her from the podium, and she was fine with it.

she made her way back to the paddock, but someone sliding their arm around her shoulders made her stop.

“it’s been a while,” she looked to the side, smiling as she saw charles.

“hey! it’s good to see you,” she hugged him. “how are you feeling?” she asked, this race hadn’t been the kindest to him.

“i just… wish this bad luck could stop now,” she nodded, understanding his frustration.

“i know. i’m sure you’ll figure something out soon,”

“yeah, hopefully,” he sighed, shaking his head. “so, where has max been keeping you captive? you basically disappeared after miami,”

“shut up,” she laughed, elbowing his ribs, “i have a job, too.”

“i know, i know,” he laughed, “i’m just joking. don’t forget about your friends, though. you can’t abandon us just because you have a pretty new boyfriend now,” she narrowed her eyes.

“did you just call max ‘pretty’?” she laughed, and charles groaned, realizing he’d probably used the wrong word, “and don’t worry, i know how to balance my time with the people i care about.”

“well, why don’t we go out for drinks or something?” he said.

“sure, next week?” she lifted her brows.

“sounds like a plan,” charles smiled.

“what plan?” max asked, materializing in front of them.

“hey, champ!” she grinned, wrapping her arms around his shoulders and kissing his cheek. “you did amazing out there.”

“thank you,” his cheeks blushed under her stare. “what were you two planning?” max asked, and she could feel his hands holding her tighter against him, could see the way his eyes changed when his eyes drifted from her, to charles.

“oh, just going out for drinks next week,” charles said, and his voice sounded small, like he was intimidated. good, max thought.

“great, we’ll see you there,” max smiled, a forced smile that she knew all too well, the one reserved for interviews.

charles gave them a tight-lipped smile, nodding.

“there’s this place with a… uh- rooftop and-” charles said, blushing.

“that sounds great, she loves rooftops, don’t you, darling?” max grinned, and she pinched his side in return.

“uh, i guess i’ll- see you there,” charles smiled before making his way to his own motorhome.

“couldn’t you be a bit nicer? he’s been struggling non-stop these weeks,” she bit back a smile, knowing that max was jealous, even though he had nothing to worry about.

“i know, i already talked to him in the media pen,” max rolled his eyes, “why did you talk to him before you talked to me?” he almost pouted.

“ah, because everyone wanted to talk to the winner, the championship leader and current world champion,” she placed her hands on his face, squishing his cheeks together, “i could wait,”

“well, i’m not making you wait anymore. come on,” he grabbed her hand and laced their fingers together, he walked her to the red bull motorhome.

hours later, they sat on max’s jet, the seats were incredibly comfortable, perfect for the long journey ahead. since the time difference would be quite significant, they decided to head to canada as soon as possible to get used to jet lag.

“hey, you were going to tell me something,” max remembered, “what was it?” he asked.

“oh,” she felt nervous, all of a sudden, “yeah, show you something, actually,”

“okay, what is it?” he asked, reaching for her hand.

“don’t freak out,” she started, biting her lip. “i did something,”

“o-kayy,” he frowned, “tell me now because i’m starting to worry,”

“you know how… i told you about the sparkly ink?” she started, and continued when max nodded, “i got a tattoo,”

“what?” max asked, reaching for her hands with his, pulling her to his lap.

“yeah, it’s… something small, but, you know, it’s important cause… it was my first,” her voice was small, shy.

“where did you get it? can you show me or…” he leaned close to her ear, “is it somewhere private?” she could feel his breath on her skin, it made her laugh, it helped dissipate the nerves.

“it’s here,” she pointed to her wrist, that was decorated with bracelets. max’s eyes went down to her hand, he held her arm running the pads of his fingers over it.

“can i?” he asked, holding one of the bracelets. she nodded and turned her wrist, so he couldn’t see the tattoo just yet. he removed them all, sliding them one by one and placing them on her other arm.

“before you see it i… i just want to say that even though it’s soon, i already love you more than i’ve ever loved anyone, anything. and i don’t… want to think too much about the future, but- even if we don’t end up together in the future,” she said, and felt max’s hand holding hers tighter, clearly not comfortable or too happy with the idea of them being apart, that made her heart beat faster, “i will always have love for you, you’ve marked me, inside and out. you’ve changed me completely, and i’ll never be the same person i was before i met you. you’ve brought out the best of me, and that’s why…” she cleared her throat, “i have this, to remember you, anywhere, anytime.”

she turned her wrist, there, right in the middle, a golden number 3.

she was watching him expectantly, waiting to see a reaction, but all max did was blink.

“and- and the good thing is, like you said- that- the three can turn into an 8. and if you turn it around the- the 8 can become an infinite. you- you know, the symbol for-” she rambled, but was cut off by max’s lips on hers. he held her face with both of his hands, and kissed her with such force, in a way that let her know that he wasn’t upset.

“there’s no need. no need for you to change it. i love it, and i love you. and you have nothing to worry about, cause you and i-” he pressed his forehead against hers, “we’re forever.”

@lovingroscoee

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questionableratatouille00 · 3 months

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Hiii❤️! Could you write a Loki x reader ( maybe Tony’s older daughter) where Tony’s #1 rule is hands off my daughter like don’t mess with her but she’s kind of a trouble maker too and all of the avengers are really protective over her so when her and Loki start sneaking around at night together and someone catches them they’re like oh hell no definitely not happening and so there’s some angst and Steve or Bucky or even Tony are like fighting with Loki and the reader is getting all stressed but they like won’t see past it and stand there ground on her not seeing Loki and whatever you want to write after that is fine idk how it should end lol but it’s just an idea I love. Thank youuuu❤️!

Hi!!! 💕 thank you so so so much for sending a request! I hope you enjoy this!

𝔸𝕟𝕕 𝕀 𝕃𝕠𝕧𝕖𝕕 ℍ𝕚𝕞.

Pairing: Loki x fem!Stark!reader

Summary: You’re a Stark. He’s a former villain and the God of Mischief. Alternatively: shit is sometimes fucked.

Warnings: cursing, arguments, crying, murder mentions, this is the first time I’ve written for Loki and I hope I at least got his character semi accurate.

A familiar tapping sound coming from your window snapped you out of your focus. Abandoning your favorite book, you walked towards the window. Pulling back the curtain revealed a small black bird. You huffed out a laugh, rolling your eyes slightly.

You pushed the window open, allowing the bird to hop inside.

“You know that the security system is probably good enough to still be picking all of this up, right?” You murmured, but the bird still hopped down onto the carpeted ground. Before you knew it, a whoosh of green magic showed your beloved boyfriend, the God of Mischief himself.

“Well, I don’t see you trying to stop me.” He teased.

“Mm. Maybe not.” You hummed. “Y’know we probably can’t keep doing this. My dad might actually kill you.” You run your hands up his chest, resting them on his shoulders.

“I’ve slain countless beasts, I can handle your angry mortal father.” He huffed indignantly.

“Aw, is somebody scared?” You teased.

He rolled his eyes, fixing his hair. You moved your hands to his neck, gently pulling him closer. His hands drifted down your waist and over your pajama pants to grab at your asscheeks. You kissed him, and you couldn’t help but smile.

A knock at your door startled you. Before you could even pull away from Loki, your door swung open.

“Hey, bitch, we brought pizz—“ Wanda yelled out when she saw what was happening. You spun around in a panic, finding a dropped pizza box at your door and Natasha and Wanda glaring daggers at Loki.

“What the fuck is going on?” Wanda hissed.

“Back the hell away from her!” Nat threatened, a pocket knife already in her hand.

“No, no! Nat, Wands, please!” You begged. “It’s okay! It’s okay!” You shook your hands at them, standing there in front of him.

“Please, let us explain!” You pleaded.

They gave each other a Look, before slowly nodding.

That didn’t change the fact that they’d went and snitched to your father anyway.

Bucky, one of your close friends, even started giving Loki sharp glares whenever they were in the same room together.

You had been torn apart by the conflict.

“You can’t do this to me. This is my life, I know what I am doing with it.”

Steve, Buck, Nat, and even your father all stood in the room. Tony had his arms crossed; Steve’s brows were furrowed; Bucky and Nat both pretended they couldn’t see the wet patch’s under your eyes.

And then they filed out of the room, all of them except for Tony, of course.

“We know what’s best for you. We’re—I’m the adult here. I am. I know what’s best for you, just like I know what’s best for this damn team.” He looked angry, but you knew that deep down it was coming from a place of fear. Of love.

“I can handle myself.” You grumbled.

“I told him—I swear to God I told him that if he ever even breathed in your direction I’d—“

“I am a fucking adult!” You hissed. “I am a fully grown adult, I am fully capable of knowing who I feel happy dating. Loki—he loves me. And I lo—“

“Don’t you dare fucking finish that sentence.” He cut you off.

“I love him.” You said defiantly.

His eyes darkened. “No, you don’t. You don’t. He’s a monster; nobody could love that.”

“I love him.” Your words were a harsh whisper, spaced out slightly as your eyes watered more and you nodded along to your own words.

“You can’t. He’s a murderer, he doesn’t love you. How could he? All he could ever care about is his own damn self!” He slammed his hand down on the desk he was leaning on.

“You don’t even know him!” You slammed your hands down too. “You have no idea what he’s like! He’s kind, he’s thoughtful, and he’s so fucking gentle. He loves me. He loves me. And I love him.”

He stared at you, his eyes softening.

“He’s good to you?” He looks down at his hands, fiddling with them.

“Better than any other man I’ve been with.” You answer honestly.

“…Just..be careful. Be careful.”

But you knew Loki. That he’d never hurt you.

“I was worried,” the god confessed as he played with your hair. “That your father wouldn’t see your side of things. Our side.”

You laid against his chest. “I would’ve ran away. I don’t care where we go. As long as I have you, I’ll be fine.”

“As will I, darling. As will I.” He pressed a kiss to your hair.

A/n: dividers made by the lovely @saradika-graphics! This is the first time I’ve written for Loki, so sorry if the characterization is a little off.

#loki x reader #loki x you #loki x y/n #loki laufesyon x reader #loki laufeyson x y/n #loki laufeyson x reader #loki laufeyson imagine #i tried my best

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malinaa · 5 months

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as a hunger games and shadow and bones enjoyer, thoughts on a malina thg au, where they’re both tributes for 12?? mal is so peeta “boy next door, boy with the bread” energy

please just the thought of malina in the games makes me sob 😭 alina wouldn’t volunteer because honestly the only person she would volunteer for would be mal (and vice versa). i think at that point alina is just praying to anyone who would listen that let it not be mal let it not be mal not him please not him. but then d12’s escort calls out, “malyen oretsev” and her world crumbles before her eyes.

one of the big differences from everlark is def that malina’s romance dynamic is switched, on the surface at least. alina’s love for mal is so so so evident in the beginning of s&b but you don’t really get mal reciprocating that love until the latter half of the book (mal has been in love w her since he was literally a child.. peetacoded fr but he didn’t like act on it until he realized that he lost her … katnisscoded 🤭).

anyway everyone in d12 knows that they’re in love with each other but the other doesn’t know so the star-crossed lovers angle could still be played. mal is DEFINITELY charming and handsome enough to get the capitol eating off his hand (that one quote in s&s that’s like if you put him in a fjerdan camp he’ll come back on their shoulders etc etc). i think what spark’s the capitol’s interest in them is their closeness. that spark gets fanned into a flame when the tiny slip of a girl from district 12 got a high training score and idk if there’d be any grisha power in this au so use ur imagination. when the interviews roll around, i think alina would talk about mal in a way that makes the interviewer’s eyes gleam but they run out of time before they get to the Big Question. then mal’s interview rolls around and he charms everyone in the audience and when the interviewer asks, “and alina? you two are childhood friends, you grew up together. what was it like being reaped together?” and mal gives everyone a sad smile and says instead, “let me tell you a little story. i was never a brave kid.” and he laughs, self-deprecating. everybody’s attention is on him, their dissent rumbling through the air because there’s no way a d12 kid with a relatively high training score (i’m shooting for a 9 maybe. peeta’s 8 would be good too) wouldn’t be brave. “alina would argue with me just like you all are doing, but i swear it’s true. i was weak. afraid of the dark. the orphanage ran out of candles once during a storm and i couldn’t sleep and even though she was in a completely different part of the building, she knew that i had a fear of the dark, so she ran out in the middle of the night and traded some of her old clothes for a single candle. she slipped into my room, all wet from the rain but i didn’t care. alina lit the candle and all i could think was, ‘she’s so much braver than me.’ she gave me light.” mal locks his gaze with the interviewer. “she is my light.” anddddd time’s up!

the capitol’s abuzz with mal’s declaration. they feel like he’s def in love with her (he is) and she doesn’t know it (she doesn’t—probably thinks he’s playing it up for the camera for sponsors) etc etc. the games start idk they’d try to stick with each other and the gamemakers have sick fun trying to pull them apart just so that a reunion would boost ratings. mal keeps finding extreme ways to help alina and keep her safe and she’s doing the same, but mal is a good soldier. he probably downplayed his skills in training to everyone, even her because he’s a damn good shot and a damn good hunter. the 2 winners from the same district announcement gets made and they run with more vigor to find each other but when they do, they obviouslyyyyy need to have The Cave Scene so mal is injured by a mutt or something idk. the story that mal tells in the cave that gets them a Feast would probably be the similar one that peeta gave (“your hair was in two braids instead of one” blah blah) but mal’s version of probably an amalgamation of something similar to alina cutting up her hand and when baby mal said “i’m going to marry alina” and he definitelyyyyyy tucks alina’s hair back and whispers, “i wanted more for you. a white veil in your hair. vows we could keep.” and they Kiss blah blah u get it. they risk their lives for each other again, at the end mal grabs alina’s hand and positions the knife to his chest but alina throws the knife away and blah blah nightlock or whatever it could be something else. regardless they LIVE and boom. end of book 1 🙏

or you could have a thg malina au with grisha powers (but they’re hidden/not in the capitol maybe or idk) and mal does shove the knife into his heart and alina like Bursts into light and they get miraculously saved by her light and d13 rescues them idk

#even when i’m tumblr user eeverlark i am always tumblr user malinaa at heart #lit #the hunger games #shadow and bone #the grisha trilogy #grishaverse #malina #otp: you are the whole of my heart #alina starkov #mal oretsev #je réponds #la poste #ask #anonymous #grishaversepost #malinapost #tais toi lys #*#fic: the boy and the girl

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avissapiens · 1 year

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Avis Abstraction #6: Gym buds

You are now friends with Mason Reed. You can now message and call each other and see info like Active Status and when you've read messages.

Oct 26th 2044

Me: Hey bro Mason: Heyyy dude haha. Nice to finally meet you Me: Same. ngl i was kinda scared about signing up for the abyss. Thought they’d hook me up with someone i couldn’t vibe with.

Mason: lol. Yh i’m chill. Tho you’re lucky. I didn’t even know about that weird chip thing. Shit hurt when they put it in. did you feel like…tingles too?Me: Yh i did. Was kinda like getting an electric shock but good?? Mason: Weird. Guess we’re gym buds now tho. Can’t wait til we can workout. My weeks a little packed but i’ll defo hit you up when i’m headed to The abyss Me: Sweet dude. We can hash out our split and everything another time. Mason: For sure bro.

Oct 29th 2044 Me: Yo dude, are you on your way to the gym? Mason: yeah actually. I just got off work and thought i’d do a really quick chest workout. How’d you know haha? Me: Idk..i just kinda felt it. Maybe that’s one of the chip functions? No clue. I’m already on my way now tho if you wanna train together Mason: Damn dude yeah i’d love that! So strange, as soon as you said that I got super hyped up. Me: Awesome bro. I’m like 5 mins away. You get warmed up and I’ll chug some preworkout.

Oct 30th 2044 Mason: dude what days do you train? I’m thinking bout changing up my work schedule so i can gym more. Last night was the fuckin best workout i’ve ever had in my life! Me: IKR. God i broke so many of my PRs. The pump is insane. Still sore haha Mason: How about we hit it 6 days a week. It was really awesome to just hang and vibe in the gym ya kno. Me: yeah dude i’d be down for that Mason: Sick, i’ll call my manager to see if he can schedule me different. So pumped Me: Nice. So what are we training today bro? Legs Mason: Legs Mason: Yooo basically in sync nice haha. Me: Lol. See you in an hour? Mason: bet

Nov 5th 2044 Me: Yo Mason: I know.. Me: you know what? Mason: I know what you’re feeling bro. I feel it too. But fuuuuck its rest dayyy. I just wanna train with you. This week alone has been one of the best weeks of gym EVER. Idk if its just the chip talking but damn I love training with you. Me: Wanna head to the gym. Just do something light? Maybe get a protein shake after? Mason: Already packing my bags. ------------------------------------------- Dec 8th 2044 Mason: Bro killer workout today. We were fucking monstrous. Mason: I had a chat with the Gym owner and he says we’re progressing faster than the majority of the other Chipped dudes. Me: Yo really? That feels amazing to know fuck…like really amazing. Gotta work harder. Blow away the competition dude 💪💪 Mason: Yeah. Honestly i see it dude. You’re looking fucking massive lately Me: No way brah. You’ve been bulking like a madman these last couple months [Mason Sent a Picture]

Mason: It’s all you bro. Wouldn’t be at this level without your help. Next year’s gonna be crazy.

Jan 6th 2045 Mason: No homo bro, but your pecs are looking so fucking massive. I swear every time i saw you flex em my chip went off like crazy. Just bolting lol. Me: Oh yeah bro 😏? Mason: Yh Mason: Broooo noo stop it shittt i can feel that in my chip. Me: LOL OMG i didn’t know it could do that. That’s so fucking cool Mason: haha..yeah. Just like chill with it ok bro Mason: STOP Me: ok ok lol. These fucking chips are wild bro. Don’t even know how most of the stuff works yet. Me: woah dude wtf are you doin? Mason: I know you’re jelly of my god quads so i was trying to get you back. Guess it worked lol Me:Lol. Fucking love you bro Me: No homo Mason: lil homo? Me: haha Mason: Ya know bro, i’ve got room in my apartment. Maybe we should like room together? It’d make setting up workouts super easy Me: really dude? That’d be great! Lets hash it out some more tomorrow for Pull day. Mason: Totally

March 20th 2045 Me: hey bro.. Mason: Yo dude, wassup? I’m loving spring break in Fiji. Having a great time Me: Thats nice…you gotta get back here bro.. Mason: Wdym? Me: Its torture just like Me: IDK man. I try to keep working out. I try to keep the pump up, but jesus. Going to the gym without you is miserable Me: I feel weaker. Smaller. Fuck i feel like my chip is punishing me every time i enter that building without you. But then when i don’t go it’s like my entire brain is being eaten from the inside Me: It feels so fucking bad. I just wanna kneel and never get up. So hard to keep going Me: Please bro. I know It’s a lot to ask but just hurry home. I miss you. I miss us… Mason: Okay bro. I know what you mean. Hang in there for a few more days. I’ve been missing the pump too and the gyms here don’t really seem to hit as hard as ours anyway. Me: I’ll try. I promise. Going crazy here. Thanks bro Mason: I’ll bring you back something from Fiji. Can’t wait to lift with you again.

-------------------------------------------- May 1st 2045 Mason: Hey dude are you busy? Me: ? yeah bro i’m just out in the living room. Wassup? Want me to come to you? Mason: NO. Don’t Mason: I can’t look at you right now Me: Okay??.. Mason: Idk what it is bro..I think its the chip but fuck Mason: The last few gym sessions we’ve had Mason: I see you and the weight you’re lifting and the progress you’ve made Mason: And then i look at my own progress Mason: And I just get…fucking upset? Mason: Because you’re not progressing fast enough dude. It’s making me look bad Me:Bro wtf?! Mason: Look at this [Mason sent a picture]

Mason:I’m fucking massive compared to you. All the other chipped bros look on par with each other, but i’ve got 15 lbs on your ass. Me: Yeah…i guess.. Mason: We’ve gotta work harder bro. I fucking love you. I can’t have you being weaker than me. It makes me sick. Makes me fucking angry Me: Yeah, we’re chipped for life. There’s no going back Me: FUCK Mason: Feel that? Exactly. You’ve gotta get back on my level bro. Otherwise, well… Mason: I can feel the chip bro. Mason: I don’t like what it’s making me feel Mason: But i’ll act on it if it goes on long enough Me: Thanks bro. I needed this. I’ll be better, I promise…For you. Mason: For us..💙 Me: For us...Can I still come to your room dude? Mason: Sure bro. Calmed down a bit...think we might lose the deposit on the place tho..Ignore the holes..

-------------------------------------------------

Jul 17th 2045 Me: Bro? Me: Bro??? Me: Mason dude where tf are you i’ve been waiting at the gym for like an hour Me: i’m just gonna start bro. Me: Mason bro wtf’s going on is your chip acting up? Me: Fuck. Fuk bro Me: Stop whatever you’re doing bro thats not funny. Me:Cut it out! Me: Fuck me dude what is this

Jul 18th 2045 Mason: Sorry bro. My bad. Guess i shoulda told you. Me: Tld m wut bro? My chipz ben goin off all fucking nt Me: Fuk can barelt tyoe. Bods liek pulsing. cnt thinkkk Mason: I heard from one of the other chipped dudes down at the gym that there was a guy upstate who’s been jailbreaking the chips. Installing cool new firmware updates. He said he Only needed one of us cause the softwares connected, but i guess you need to go too. Me: WTF bro thts so fucked up! Hw cud u di tht Mason: Tho if i’m being honest. I don’t really need an update. You were the one lagging behind bro. Lets just keep it like this for a bit and see what happens Me: Cnyoujuststopthepingigbro Mason: Haha sorry. I think that’s the roider protocol. Supposed to send a shiver every time your chipbro thinks about getting bigger. Guess i’ve had one thing on my mind all night. My bad Mason: K should be good Me: This is high-key fucked mason. Mason: Wanna go the gym? Me: fuck…yes. Me: I’m getting my gear ready. See you in 20 mins..fucker. Mason: Oh bro btw [Mason sent a picture]

Me: fucking hell bro. Ok 10 mins

The Model for this one is Alex Price. Check him out. And If you want to support the creation of more hypnotic experiences and writing, then you can do so by subscribing to my Patreon, or to my Youtube channel. And if you want to interact more closely with me and my supportive community you can join my Discord server. And check out my file archive on my website.

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lunatiqez · 11 months

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“TEAM PLAYER.” — Ellie Williams x Reader

PAIRING: Baseball!Ellie Williams x Soccer Player!Reader

GENRE: Platonic?? Idk kinda hinted mutual crush

SUMMARY: You give Ellie Williams some words of advice for her next softball game.

WORD COUNT: 1.3k

A/N: Proofread by my best bae @lu-vin-it !! Also kinda written for ml @lov9r ,, kinda lazy but I need to get back into writing some how

AROUND CAMPUS, ELLIE WAS ALWAYS known as the “sporty, ambitious, tough-love” kind of girl. She was hard on her friends, but it also seemed like she really cared for them. She was a good student, but she had never really cared for her studies. All she cared about was softball. Sometimes, though, she hated it. That's only when she would lose. If there was one thing you knew about Ellie Williams, it was that she hated losing.

She couldn’t stand it. You’d go to the softball games to watch your friend, Isa, play. When they’d lose, Ellie would throw her bat on the ground and kick the orange stained dirt. She would always have the angriest expression on her face. No matter how hard her teammates would try to make her feel better, she wouldn’t listen— all she’d listen to is the other team cheering and laughing.

You, on the other hand, were the complete opposite. You were nice and cheerful. Optimistic and always ready for a challenge. You were captain on your soccer team, the level-headed, responsible girl.

Your coach would always praise you and tell you how great you are at soccer, how you never fold under pressure.

And that’s exactly what you hated.

You hated being praised so much. Most would think it’s a blessing, but not for you.

You often caught glances of jealousy from your teammates. A snicker or two when you were sent to the bench. It was torture. You just wanted to get along with your teammates rather than have them loathe you for being good at what you do.

You were on your way to physics when you noticed the brunette girl with her hair tied into a half up, half down bun. She was yelling at another, noticeably taller and more muscular girl.

“It’s not that big o’ deal, Ellie.” The girl said, rolling her eyes in annoyance. You walked up out of curiosity and nosiness.

“It is that big of a fuckin’ deal!” Ellie barked. She was obviously heated and by the looks of it, ready to fight.

“C’mon, you’re upset because I said you can’t keep your temper? You’re proving my point right now!” The girl chuckles.

“Abby I swear to fucking god if you don’t shut your mouth I’ll—“

“Ladies!” A teacher called out to them. “Get to class. We don’t need any cat fights this early in the morning.”

“Yes sir.” Ellie grunted in defeat. Her fists loosened and she turned her back to Abby to walk to her class.

You sighed, as curious as you were, you were scared of what Abby would do to Ellie. By the looks of it, Ellie could’ve had her ass handed to her.

You walked away quickly, not wanting to get grouped in with the girls who started the argument. You rushed to your class and into your seat.

Your professor walked in casually, hands in his pockets.

“Alright, guys, I know you’re all going to hate me for this, but you all have a new seating chart! Yay!” He said sarcastically. The rest of the class groaned.

“Usually he’s pretty cool, I wonder what changed…” the girl sitting next to you sighed, making you giggle.

When you looked up, the new seating chart was already projected onto the wall. You searched for your name and school picture and who you were by. Then you found it.

Y/N Y/L/N, back of the room, middle row.

By Ellie Williams.

You searched the room for her face, only to find her looking right back at you. You looked away swiftly and picked up your books to head to your new spot.

You sat down first, Ellie joining you soon after. The class began, your professor turning on an old documentary about the human brain. You were watching it with your full attention, but you could see Ellie angrily scribbling on her paper. She was tense, frustrated.

You slouched down so she could hear you and whispered, “Y’know, for what it’s worth. I think you’re a pretty good softball player.”

She looked at you through her brow.

“What do you know?” She asked in an irritated tone. “You’re the head of your stupid soccer team.”

“So..?” You said, puzzled.

“So you have everything handed to you. Little miss soccer princess.” Your eyes widened. Was she jealous?

“Ellie, that’s different. You’re a good— a great softball player. It’s just that….you get ahead of yourself.” She huffed.

“I don’t need your criticism on a sport you don’t even play. You don’t even know what you’re talking about.”

“First of all, I’m criticizing you. Not the sport. Second of all, my best friend plays with you. Isa Juarez?”

“What are you getting at??” She asks impatiently.

“I think you need to be more communicative. You yell at your teammates for being wrong a lot.” Ellie glares at you. “At least that’s what it looks like from the bleachers..” She rolls her eyes at you.

“Give it a chance at your next game, alright? Try talking to your teammates about a strategy.”

“Strategy.” She scoffed.

“I’m serious, Ellie! Just try it? Please??” You asked her. You weren’t sure why, but you wanted to go succeed so badly. She thought for a moment.

“Fine.”

“Thank you.”

Two weeks later, it was the softball team's last game of the season. You were excited to see Ellie attempt to be a good team player.

You drove Isa to the game, as always, which meant you were there earlier than everyone else who attended. Usually, you’d get the best snacks before they were bought up at the concession stands, but today you wanted to try to talk to Ellie.

You walked over to the dugout, where Ellie was picking at her nails.

“Hey Ellie,” you say quietly, not wanting to startle her.

“Oh.” She looks up. “Hey Y/N.”

“Remember what I said a few weeks ago?” She rolls her eyes like she did in your previous conversation.

“Yeah, yeah. Talk to my team..” You pause before speaking again.

“So..are you gonna try it? I mean, it’s the last game of the season, might as well end it on a good one.” Ellie slouches.

“I guess I could try.”

You smile warmly and put a supportive hand on her shoulder, making her blush ever so slightly. You then notice that more people are showing up, so you waved goodbye and hurried to the concession stand.

When you got your snacks, you sat down at the best spot on the bleachers. The one where you could see the most action.

The game finally starts and you catch Ellie looking for you, you make eye contact with her and she nods at you.

Everyone’s getting into their places and you see Ellie ordering her teammates around. The game continues and as everyone goes up to bat, they miss. Then it’s Ellie’s turn.

She misses the first ball. Strike one.

Then the second. Strike two.

You can see her tighten her fists and grumble under her breath, she’s getting frustrated.

“C’mon Ellie! Go for it!” You yell. She looks up at you and gains her confidence again. The girl straightens up and gets into position. The pitcher stretches once more, and after an eternity, slams the ball.

CRACK!

You missed it, closing your eyes because of the tension, but judging by the roar of the crowd and the expression on Ellie’s face, you could tell she hit it. Far, too. You begin cheering and clapping, excited for her.

Was Ellie always this attractive?

She throws her bat down and begins running as fast as she can. Before you know it, she’s already made a home run. Then a second. Then a third. The audience cheers louder each time she hits a base, but then the adrenaline catches up to her. She stops almost immediately, looking like she’s about to throw up.

The game goes on and it’s eventually over.

“Ellie, that was great! You did awesome!!” You say, jogging up to her.

“Thanks, you’re not too bad yourself, soccer princess.” She jokes and you feel the tips of your ears warm.

Maybe you were wrong about Ellie Williams.

#Ellie Williams #Ellie Williams tlou #tlou Ellie #tlou ellie williams #ellie williams fanfiction #ellie williams fanfic #tlou fanfiction #tlou fanfic #fanfiction #📂 — liv’s writings ★.

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stevengrant-my-beloved · 2 years

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set fire to me, leave me begging for more [18+]

Jake Lockley x female!Reader

Rating: Explicit

summary: you and your friends go on a pub-crawl and eventually you meet a mysterious stranger who takes you on the best ride of your life, literally.

warnings: substance use (alcohol), club scenes(idk), oral (f receiving), handjob, multiple orgasms, riding (that’s like the main thing), car sex, outdoor sex(?), squirting, not beta-read because that’s how we roll

word count: 7k

a/n: please for the love of god if u find yourself in a similar situation like y/n DO NOT be like them and go off with random strangers promising you a good time, no matter how hot they are XD also I tried with the Spanish, i swear, consulted multiple different websites because i know google translate is unreliable asf.

_______

It was 9 p.m. on a Friday night, and you’d been lounging on the couch in your cozy apartment, nursing a glass of wine when you heard the doorbell ring, followed by multiple shouts of your name through the front door.

“One second!” you shout, recognizing the voices of your friends and wondering why they’d showed up unexpectedly. Not that you minded, really, but you had been looking forward to a quiet night in with some wine, cheap takeout and whatever movie might have been playing on the TV.

You open the door, and before you can get a word in, your friends are pushing their way into your apartment, all excitedly talking over each other about how they were here to pick you up and go have some fun.

“Uh, guys? What- wait, can someone tell me what’s going on?” you ask as your friends busy themselves with going through your wardrobe.

“We’re going clubbing bestie!” one of your friends exclaims, grabbing your wine glass out of your hand before steering you towards the bathroom. “Come on, it’s been ages since we last did something exciting ‘cause we’re always busy with stuff.”

You sigh, because, yes, it’s true that you and your friends hadn’t really had the chance to hang out, and yes, you did think it would do you some good to actually go outside for a change, but-

“Yeah, I can tell you’re debating this, and I’m not letting you do that,” your friend declares, before unceremoniously pushing you into your bathroom. “Go take a shower. We’ll pick out something for you, and then we’re heading out!”

You hear a chorus of ‘hell yeah’s before the bathroom door is closed shut and you’re left standing in front of your bathroom sink, taking in the disheveled appearance of your reflection.

“Screw it, let’s do this,” you mutter, running your hand through your hair, before stepping into the shower.

You were going to make up for months of not going out by having the best night of your life, and you were going to look good doing it.

---

Twenty minutes later, you’re stepping out of your still steaming bathroom, and you find your friends surrounded by a pile of clothes, each one of them picking up different items and trying to style them into a full outfit.

“You’re helping me clean up after this, I swear to god,” you groan, as you make your way to your dresser. You fiddle with your hair, unsure of what to do with it, before ultimately deciding to just let it stay down as it is.

“Okay, [Y/N], you have to wear this!” You watch your friends through the mirror you’re sitting in front of, and they’re all nodding in agreement as one of them holds up a mini dress, one you don’t remember wearing in a long time.

They’re looking at you expectantly, waiting for you to try it on. You know that if it really came to it, they’d let you walk out in your pajamas if that’s what you wanted, but they looked so excited and it wouldn’t hurt to try it on, so you walk up to them and grab the dress, stomping your feet and huffing, making a show of how much of a pain this all was (it really wasn’t).

You’re all making idle chit-chat as you pull the dress on, and once it’s completely on you, your friends start cheering and whistling, which honestly made you feel just a little bit better about yourself.

Growing up, you never had the best view of yourself, and even though you know better now, even though you know that you’re good-looking, sometimes the little voice in your head still manages to convince you that you’re not perfect the way you are.

Your friends help though. They’re always there to remind you just how smart, beautiful and amazing you are, and you couldn’t be happier in that moment, standing among your them in your small, messy bedroom as you get ready to go have some fun.

The dress itself helps. It’s black, with sheer balloon sleeves and a deep V neckline, and it fits perfectly on your body, accentuating your silhouette in a way that you knew was definitely flattering. You quickly slip on some jewelry and your heels, before you and your friends file out of your apartment and make your way out onto the street.

“Alright bitches, let’s get wild!”

---

The first pub you and your friends hit was pretty quaint. It was mostly silent, even for the time of night it was, so you all just sit at a table and get your preferred drinks, talking about anything and everything. It seemed like this particular pub was hosting a trivia night, which your friends decided would be fun to participate in, just for the heck of it. You get most of the answers wrong, but it was the most fun you had had in ages, laughing with your friends and just relaxing with them.

The second and third ones were a little louder in comparison. You’re pretty buzzed already at that point, which means you’re being louder than usual, adding to the noise of the pub. You stumble to the bar, arms linked with your friend so you can grab your group’s drinks, when you bump into someone, almost making them spill their drink.

“Oh, gosh, I’m so sorry-“ you start to say, freezing when you feel a hand grab your elbow to help you right yourself.

“It’s alright,” a gruff voice mutters, the words almost lost to the loud chatter in the pub. You look up to see the man who still had his hand on you, and when your eyes meet, he straightens up and lets his hand fall back down to his side, before nodding at you and your friend and walking towards to the back of the pub.

You and your friend turn to each other, wide-eyed, because you were both pretty similar and obviously thinking the same thing.

That guy is super-hot.

You manage to get your drinks, and you and your friend make your way back to your table to join the rest of the group when you make eye contact with the man from earlier, who’s sitting at the table closest to yours. His large hand is gripping the neck of a beer bottle, and suddenly your skin feels warmer as you watch his eyes scanning your body, gaze moving from your face all the way down to your feet and back up to your face, before the right side of his lips quirk up in a small smile.

“[Y/N], he is totally checking you out,” your friend whispers. Everyone at the table starts giggling while you focus on passing everyone’s drinks to avoid embarrassing yourself. You eventually take your seat at the table, and by some twist of fate, you’re right in the man’s line of sight.

You sip your drink, something mild and citrusy as you take in the man’s appearance. He’s dressed more formally than you’d expect for a night and time like this, in a white dress shirt and tie under a dark jacket with its collar popped up, a flat cap completing his look. You couldn’t tell how much time passed, with the two of you just staring at each other, occasionally breaking eye-contact when you would turn to address your friends, who kept urging you to go over and talk to the man. There was a part of you that wanted to do just that, but tonight was supposed to be about having a good time with your friends, so you resist the compulsion to walk up to him. That doesn’t stop you from checking him out from time-to-time.

It was around 11 p.m. when you and your friends head out of the pub, deciding to hit a nightclub that was close by. You look over to the table the man was sitting at, only to find that he’d already left. Feeling slightly disappointed, you walk out of the pub, where you and your friends stand debating if you should just wait for a taxi or book one.

You’d been leaning against the outside wall of the pub, wondering if going to a nightclub after hitting three different pubs was really a good idea, when you spot the man from earlier. He’s leaning against a street lamp, a little farther away from you, and when you look up at him, he’s already looking at you, his gazing moving across your form just like it had earlier.

Maybe it was the buzz from the alcohol, maybe it was the way your friends were letting out low whistles and waggling their eyebrows at you, but you suddenly find yourself taking deliberate steps towards the man, managing to stumble only once on your way there.

“Hey,” you whisper as you stand beside him. From this close, you take the time to observe all his features, your eyes immediately landing on the little bandage he has on the bridge of his nose.

“Hi,” he drawls out, his deep voice sending shivers down your spine. “Can I help you?”

Well…now what?

“Um…”

Just as you were about to most probably make a fool of yourself, your friends step in, telling the stranger that you were all headed to the club, before asking him if he wanted to join.

“Sure…I could drive you guys there.”

---

“You ride a limo?”

“It’s…a company vehicle.”

“Oh, okay…”

When the man (you still didn’t know his name, you should probably definitely ask for it sometime soon) told you that he could drive you and your friends there, you expected him to lead you to a regular car, maybe a CUV, or an SUV. The last thing you’d expected to be led to was an honest-to-God limousine.

It was stark white, with vanity plates that read ‘SPKTR’ and red interiors. While your friends stand around marveling at the limo, excited about the turn of events their night had taken, you stand in silence, stealing glances at the man, until he turned around to look at you.

“My name’s Jake. Jake Lockley,” he says, extending his hand forward. You try not to stare at him as you take his hand and shake it. His grip was firm, and his hands felt soft, save for the few callouses he had on his fingers. “So, what’s yours?”

You’d been holding onto his hand, and it took a few seconds for his question to register in your mind, but eventually, you pull your hand back to push a strand of your hair behind your ear.

“I’m [Y/N].” You know your cheeks are flaming red, and you’re hoping that it’s dark enough outside to hide it.

He nods, before going up to the limo and opening the door for your friends, who eagerly get in. He then walks up to the passenger side of the limo and holds the door open for you, taking your hand as you step in. He closes the door behind you and you shift in your seat, pulling at the ends of your dress to make sure they didn’t ride up your thighs, as he makes his way to the other side of the limo and takes his place on the driver’s side.

He looked back at your friends through the open partition. You follow his gaze to find your friends staring at you both with shit-eating grins.

“Ready?” Jake asks.

“Yes! Let’s fucking go!” your friend yells. Jake chuckles before turning back to you and quirking an eyebrow. He seemed to be waiting for something, tapping his fingers against the steering wheel. You tilt your head, wondering why he hadn’t started driving yet.

“Seatbelt,” he whispers, motioning towards it, and you scramble to pull it on as he pulls the limousine out of it’s parking spot, before driving towards your next destination.

What a night.

---

“Oh my god, this is my song you guys, we have to go dance, right now!” your friend yells over the booming music in the nightclub.

You, your friends and Jake had arrived a few minutes ago and had gone up to the bar, where Jake had decided to buy a round of drinks for the group. You’d all spent some time talking, you and your friends taking turns asking Jake questions to get to know him, and vice versa. He wasn’t the most talkative, preferring to sip his drink in silence and watch you and your friends having a good time instead.

At some point, your friends had all moved to the dance floor, leaving you and Jake sitting near the bar. The conversation had moved from friendly curiosity about each other’s lives to flirting. Emboldened by the alcohol you slip one of your heels off, before trailing your toes against his calf and watching the grip he has on his glass tighten.

The music changes then, to something even more sensuous than before, and you slowly put your heel back on before abandoning your drink. You’d had enough for the night, and you had something different planned.

“Let’s dance,” you say as you grab Jake’s hand, pulling him to his feet and weaving through the crowd of grinding bodies until you’re both right in the middle of the dance floor. You turn towards him and when you see that he’s still standing a few inches away from you, you grab his tie, using it to pull him closer to you until your bodies are pressed flush against each other.

You let the music guide you as you move against Jake, feeling his hands settle against your hips. Slowly and furtively, you sway to the music, rocking your hips against his, and you’re surprised when he does the same, especially with how he moves to the beat. You bring your arms up and around his neck, tangling your fingers in the curls on the back of his head and pulling lightly, feeling your core clench when you see his lips part and his nostrils flare slightly.

Fuck, he is so hot.

Jake brings one of his hands to the side of your face, his fingers pushing back a strand of your hair that had fallen over your face. His hand lingers there for a few seconds, before he moves it down to rest on your lower back.

The heat emanating from his hand burned your skin through your dress, and suddenly you were hyper aware of just how close together you were standing. His piercing gaze was becoming too much for you to handle, so you turn around to press your back against him, grinding your hips against his as you bring his arms around you. You feel his warm breath wash over against the side of your neck as he leans his head down to rest it against your shoulder.

“Do you want to get out of here?” Jake whispers into your ear as you rest your hands over his as they rested over your stomach.

You take the time to think about it. Was it really a good idea to go off with a man you’d just met an hour ago? Sure, he was extremely good-looking, and he hadn’t really raised any alarms in you yet, but he was still a stranger. All you knew about him was that he worked for a ‘private company’, did some ‘contract work’ and drove a limousine.

Something in you said you should take him up on his offer though. It’d been a while since you’d done anything exciting and this seemed pretty damn exciting.

Jake hums, before saying, “We don’t have to-“

“Let’s do it,” you cut him off, turning back towards him and picking at the collar of his shirt to keep from staring at his eyes. “I need to use the bathroom though, give me a minute yeah?”

You smile at Jake before scurrying off to the bathroom, walking through the crowd of drunk people. Your heart is in your throat by the time you lock yourself in a stall, leaning against the door as you take deep breaths to calm your racing heart. You pull out your phone to shoot a quick text to the group chat, hoping your friends see it.

┏

guys, jake just asked if i wanted to ‘get outta here’ and i said yes hafshshdh

OMG [Y/N]’s ABOUT TO GET LAID Y’ALL WOOOO

um wait, is this a good idea??? i mean i barely know the guy…

Babes, it’s your call. If you do go though, keep us updated on your location.

oh hell yeaaa, [Y/N] you better give us all the deets later!!!!!

okay okay ig I’m doing this oh god-

DON’T FORGET TO USE A CONDOM!!!! DO U HAVE SOME? IF NOT, COME GET ME BEFORE U LEAVE, I HAVE SOME!!!

Jfc okay, [Y/N] be careful, have fun, text us if anything comes up <333

YESSS HAVE FUN WE LOVE YOUUU

alright, thanks guys, text y’all later <33

┛

You don’t stay in the stall for too long after that, walking out to the sinks to splash some water onto your face. You fix your hair and makeup before making your way back to Jake, who had moved back to bar to get out of the crowd.

“So, where are we going?” you ask as you link your arm in his, leaning into him slightly and reveling in the warmth of his body. He looks down at you clinging to his arm and quirks his lips in a half-smile.

“We could go on a drive,” he says as he leads you out of the nightclub. You’re disoriented for a bit because of the sudden absence of noise and the cold winding that hits you the second you’re outside. “I know this place, it’s an hour away. Only if you want to though.”

Jake waits for you to answer, but you’re distracted by how the wind is biting at the skin of your exposed legs, and how your sleeves aren’t doing much to protect your arms. You’re shivering when Jake slowly pulls away from you, making you whine at the loss of slight body heat you’d been getting from him.

“Lo siento, cariño. Give me one second,” Jake whispers, before pulling off his jacket. “Aquí.”

He drapes his jacket over your shoulders, adjusting it until it fell perfectly over your body. You instantly feel better, the wind less harsh on your body now that you were more covered up (and maybe the rise in your own temperature from hearing Jake speak Spanish helped too).

“So, can I take you on a ride?” he asks, smirking when he sees you shiver despite being bundled up in his jacket.

“Yes, please…” you all but moan as you lean into him, before you’re being led back to his limo with his arm around your waist.

God, what a fucking night.

---

“So…” you begin to say, leaning against the door of the passenger side to look at Jake. “You’re not taking me somewhere remote and creepy to murder me, right?”

He chuckled. “No, it’s my day off.”

"What?"

"It's nothing."

Jake Lockley, the mysterious man you’d only met a couple of hours prior to getting into his limo and agreeing to go on a long drive with him, kept his gaze on the road ahead of him, drumming his fingers against the steering wheel as he drove.

You were on an open stretch of road, with barely any other cars around. You might have been extremely buzzed when you’d entered the limo with Jake, but you’d sobered up pretty quickly once the reality of the situation hit you. You were with a beautiful man, driving to an unknown location where you were assuming (and really hoping) you were going to have a good time. You had rolled the window down at some point, and you looked at all the scenery that you passed by, leaning your head on your crossed-over arms which you’d rested on the window frame. The wind in your hair, and the soft music playing on the radio added a dream-like feeling to the situation. You hadn’t felt this relaxed in quite some time, and it felt nice, getting away from everything for a while.

Eventually, you feel the limo pull to a stop, so you straighten up to take in your surroundings. It’s pretty dark outside, save for the moon and the stars lighting up the area, and one lone street lamp in the distance. You watch Jake get out of the limo, before walking to your side and opening the door for you, taking your hand and shielding your head as you step out.

“Oh, wow…” you mutter, taking in the view before you. “What is this place?”

You’re on a cliffside as far as you can tell, and you hear waves crashing as the familiar scent of the ocean wafts over to you.

“I’m sure it’s got a name,” Jake says as he stands beside you, leaning against the hood of the limo. “But I don’t know it. Just happened upon the place during…a job…”

You hum in acknowledgment as you lean against him, resting your head against his shoulder as you look up at the moon. You try not to think about how intimate this moment feels as Jake slides an arm around your waist, pulling you closer to his side.

“Qué guapa eres…” you hear him whisper, and just as you’re about to ask him what that means, he steps in front of you, taking your hands in his and rubbing his thumbs over your knuckles.

“Can I kiss you?” he asks, bending his head down to brush his lips against the corner of your mouth. Words escape you, so you retort to grabbing his collar and pressing your lips firm against his. He stepped closer to you, pressing you against the hood of the limo as his hands moved up to hold your face. His lips were warm and soft, and you taste the whiskey that he had been drinking earlier when they part, allowing your tongue to slip inside.

You feel your heart beating against your chest, warmth spreading across your skin as your lips tingle from the kiss. Jake’s cologne, something mild and musky, was dizzying, and your hands land on his back, fingers clutching his shirt as you lean into the kiss. You and Jake kiss for a long time, pulling away and going back in, each kiss growing more desperate and messier than the last. Jake’s arousal presses against your belly, and you clench your thighs in anticipation, biting into his bottom lip to keep from crying out.

You break away from him after what feels like hours, breathing heavily as you bring your fingers up to your now plump and wet lips, and you peer at Jake as you shrug his jacket off of your shoulders, which makes his gaze fall down to your heaving chest. The next few minutes were a blur as Jake leaned his head down and nudged his nose against your neck and trailed it up to the spot behind your ear that made your knees shake. One of his hands trail up your body before settling on your breast, groping slightly as he presses his knee between your legs, right against your clothed pussy, making you moan embarrassingly loud.

Jake leaves kisses on your neck, occasionally biting at the skin behind your ear as he grinds his knee against your core. You grind back against him, whining as you feel yourself getting wetter by the minute. Right when you think you’re about to reach your peak, he pulls away, before grabbing the back of your thighs and hoisting you up, prompting you to wrap your legs around him.

“I want to taste you,” he whispers against your cheek as you pant against his ear. His voice sounds hoarse, and it sends a shock down your spine, making you shake in his hold.

“Oh god, yes-“ you cry out as he moves to the passenger door, somehow getting it open even with you squirming in his arms and biting at his throat. He lays you down on the plush leather seat, and you lean on your elbows with your legs bent over the edge of the seat. Jake was still outside the limo, kneeling on the ground as his hands trailed up your thigh, rucking up your dress as he rests his hands on your hips. The cold air is hitting your clothed core, making you aware of just how wet you’d gotten, and your thighs quiver as Jake’s thumbs rub circles into your inner thighs.

“This okay?” he whispers, dipping his thumbs into your underwear just a little, watching you as you gasp for breath. You nod quickly, lifting your hips up in the air to urge him to take off your underwear, which he does. Jake makes quick work of taking it off and you’re hit with a wave of embarrassment as you feel it peel off of you from where it had stuck to your soaking wet pussy, but before you can dwell too much on it, your legs are being lifted and placed on Jake’s shoulders.

“Jake, please- oh my god, please-“ you whine, as Jake licks and bites his way up to where you’re craving attention. You’re aware of how much your gushing, and just when you’re about to beg for him to put his mouth on you, you feel his tongue lick a stripe up through your soaking folds all the way to your clit, making you buck up against him, trying to feel more of his mouth on you.

He continues laving his tongue through your folds, sucking them into his mouth and smiling against your skin when he hears the sounds that escape your mouth. Your hand shoots out and moves to the top of his head, pushing off his cap before your fingers grab onto his hair. Your thighs clench around his head as he traces his tongue around your clit, and you feel all your blood rushing down to that one area, making you throb with need. You’d felt his light stubble on your neck earlier, but feeling them between your legs was something else altogether, pushing you closer to the edge.

“[Y/N], you taste like heaven-” Jake whispered once he surfaced from between your thighs, his lips and chin glistening. He licks his lips as he moves his fingers over your wet pussy, sliding them through your folds and watching as you clench.

“Te ves muy guapa…”

You moan as his finger dips into you, sliding in effortlessly from the combined wetness of your arousal and Jake’s saliva on you. His finger thrusts in and out of you, and you beg for more, until one finger becomes two and you’re grinding back against his hand, hoping he’d pick up the pace and just fuck you already.

You don’t realize that you’d said that last part out loud until you hear Jake click his tongue before saying something about being patient. You have half the mind to thrash around and take matters into your own hands, but ultimately, Jake gives in and starts thrusting his fingers into you faster, adding in a third finger to stretch you out. It doesn’t take him long to find the bundle of nerves inside you that has you screaming his name and cumming on his fingers. You ride out your first orgasm for the night, thrusting your hips back against the fingers that were still inside you, massaging your walls and coaxing out weak moans from your mouth.

Jake pressed soft kisses to your inner thighs as you catch your breath, slowly pulling out his fingers before bringing them to his mouth and licking them clean, making you groan.

You were still recovering from the feeling of Jake’s large fingers stretching you when he straightens up and unbuttons his slacks, giving you a clear view of the outline of his dick pressing against his pants. You stand on shaky legs and grip his tie to steady yourself, before moving your fingers to the buttons of his shirt, unbuttoning them as quickly as you could. Jake rips off his tie, before helping you with his shirt buttons until they’re all undone and he shrugs it off, before chucking it and his tie through the partition in the limo.

Just as you’re about to lie back down against the seat, Jake moves around you and sits on the seat, before pulling you onto his lap. You straddle him, his hands moving under your dress and grabbing your bare ass as your arms move to wrap around his neck.

“Fuck me, fuck me please-“ you pant against his mouth, grinding against his still-clothed dick. “Want to feel you inside me.”

Jake moves his hands to his crotch, pulling down the zipper of his pants ever-so-slowly as you lean against the dashboard and watch him, biting your lips at the sight of his pecs and hard abs as they flexed in the low light of the moon. He eventually pulls his dick out, and your jaw slackens as you take in his size, itching to get your hands around him. You give in to your urges, wrapping one hand around the thick base of his cock, feeling him jerk under your fingers.

You pay close attention to his face as you slowly jerk him off, moving your hand up and down his cock, using his precum to ease your way. His breathing turns shallow, and his eyebrows are knitted together as he stares at your hands. The air around you grows hotter and heavier as Jake lets out a low moan, raising his hips slightly to chase the feeling of your hands once you move them away.

You move to grab your purse, just as Jake’s arm moves around you to open the glove compartment, both of you reaching to grab a condom. Jake manages to fish one out first, which he quickly pulls out of the foil and slips onto his cock.

“[Y/N]…” he grunts, mouthing at the skin of your chest that is exposed due to the deep V-neck of your dress. “Ride me baby, c’mon-“

It doesn’t take much more than that for you to hike your dress up over your thighs and you move to hover over Jake, holding his cock to line it up to your hole, rubbing the head against your soaking wet folds, before slowly moving down to take him within you. Despite how Jake had stretched you out with three fingers, it still takes some effort for his cock to finally push into you.

“Relax,” Jake whispers, grabbing onto your thighs as you flex them to lower yourself further onto his dick, whimpering as you feel his length fill you deep, pressing into you further than his fingers had. You knew you were clenching around him, and it couldn’t have been all that comfortable for him, but Jake remained patient, rubbing your thighs to comfort you as you continued taking him in, wondering just how big he was.

“Jesus fucking Christ, you’re big-“

“Fuck- [Y/N]-“

Inch by inch, Jake’s dick fills you until you’re completely seated on his lap. You’re gasping against his shoulder, thighs quivering as you feel his cock jerk inside you a little.

“Está apretadito…”

You can’t do much else beside whine and mouth at any and every part of Jake’s body that you can reach, your fingers tangling in his curls as you raise your hips slowly, feeling his cock drag against your inner walls, before you drop back down in one swift thrust, moaning out Jake’s name. Your hands find purchase on Jake’s chest, nails digging in and leaving red welts in his skin and you ride him, raising and lowering your hips rhythmically.

“You’re so fucking sexy, [Y/N],” Jake groans, his hands moving to the sleeves of your dress before pulling them down your arms, exposing your breasts and making your nipples perk up. Your fingers pull his curls hard when his mouth moves over your breasts, kissing and sucking bruises into the skin, making you throw your head back and moan loudly.

You continue riding Jake’s cock, going faster when he sucks one of your nipples into his mouth as he tweaks the other between his fingers, scratching it softly with his fingernail, causing goosebumps to appear all over your skin. You thighs feel sore, and you’re worried you’re going to collapse from exhaustion when Jake uses his grip on your waist to lean you back on the dashboard, before planting his feet firmly on the floor of the limo and-

“Oh my god, fuck, fuck, fuck- Jake, please-“ you scream, as he thrusts up into you, managing to nail right over the bundle of nerves inside you that caused your vision to white out with every buck of his hips. Before you can really process what you’re about to say, the words bubble out of your mouth and you moan out, “Oh, papi-“

You feel Jake’s hips stilling, and you gaze down at him through your lashes, your hips grinding back and forth. You’re starting to wonder if you made a mistake, when Jake’s grip on your hip tightens and suddenly he’s slamming you back down on his cock, before raising you up and doing it all over again, making you scream his name repeatedly until your head lolls to the side and all you can do is let out weak moans as Jake continues to fuck you.

“Say it again,” he grunts, bringing one of his hands up to his head to push his hair back. “Say it again cariño.”

“Papi…please- I want to cum, fuck-“

Your orgasm takes you by surprise, and you feel all your muscles clench and quiver as you cum around Jake’s cock. He watches in mild amusement as you writhe over him, before he brings a hand to your clit, rubbing it mercilessly as you ride your orgasm, causing you to clench even harder before you-

“¡Mierda!” Jake exclaims, his eyes widening as you buck up and squirt all over his stomach, sobbing from the overstimulation.

You rise up and off of Jake’s cock before flopping back against the dashboard. Jake stares into your eyes as he runs his fingers through the wetness on his abs, before bringing his fingers to his lips and sucking them clean, smirking when he sees the way your thighs clench slightly.

“Stop, oh god- I don’t think I can take anymore…” you groan out, making him laugh.

Jake hums, before reaching a hand under the seat and pulling a small bag, out of which he pulls out a towel. He quickly wipes himself down, before reaching down to wipe at the mess between your thighs. You flinch, the rough material of the towel making your skin tingle slightly.

“Fuck, it’s cramped in here.” You maneuver around Jake’s form, trying to step out of the car with without accidentally stabbing him with your heels. “It’s been a while since I’ve done something like this…”

You manage to get out of the car and step to the side, before you catch your reflection on the tinted window of the larger compartment of the limousine, and realize just how promiscuous you look. Your dress was still pulled down under your breasts, which were bare and on display. You lean closer to examine the various bruises Jake had left on your skin, biting your lips as you trail your fingers across your skin.

Jake eventually steps out, and you turn to look at him, smiling in satisfaction when you see that he’s just as ruffled up as you are. His curls are a mess, and his skin is littered with bruises and lipstick stains, but unlike you, he’d made some attempt to cover back up and tucked himself back into his pants. He steps towards you, moving to pull your dress back over you and smoothing his hands down your arms, before turning back around to pick his flat cap and jacket that you had discarded earlier. Once he’d grabbed those and flung them into the limo, he made his way back to you, standing close to, before leaning down to press a kiss to your lips. There’s something so soft about it, and Jake holds you like something precious, like he wants to cherish you, and it leaves you feeling fuzzy.

---

Jake had taken care to clean you both up as much as he could before you shuffled in and leaned against him before promptly falling asleep with your legs folded under you.

When you wake up, your head is in Jake’s lap, who is awake, staring out the window with his fingers carding through your hair. He feels you squirming against him, at which point he looks down at you with a small smile.

“Good timing, there’s something you need to see,” he says as you move to sit back up. An open bottle of water is pushed into your hands, and you take big gulps, hoping the water would wash down the taste of the several alcoholic beverages you’d had the night before. Jake gets out of the limo, before grabbing his clothes from the back compartment and quickly pulling them on. You slide out too, smoothing the skirt of your dress over your thighs as you walk up to Jake, who’s standing at the edge of the cliff.

“What’s going on?” you ask, wrapping your arm around his waist and leaning against him. “You want to- oh…”

You’re left speechless as you watch the sun slowly creep up over the horizon, casting a rosy hue across the sky. The golden rays of the sun hit the water, making the ocean gleam.

You sigh. “Believe it or not, I’ve never actually seen the sunrise in person…it’s amazing.”

Jake hums, before slinging his arm over your shoulder and pulling you close. “I’m glad I got to show you then.”

You stand there in silence, losing yourself to the moment. You look up at Jake Lockley, the man who had somehow managed to squeeze his way into your heart within just hours of meeting him, the man who had brought you to a beautiful cliffside, where he had given you the time of your life, the man who stepped away from you and held out his hand for you to grab, before leading you back to his fucking limousine and driving all the way back into the city, back to your regular, boring life.

And the whole way back, all you could do was stare at the side of Jake’s face as your phone buzzed inside your purse, wondering what kind of fate had put this man in your path.

---

“Are you sure you’re not hungry? I can get you coffee, if you want,” Jake says, as he drives to your neighborhood.

“No, no, I’m good, thank you.”

The rest of the ride goes by with you and Jake making idle conversation, talking about the most random things that came to mind. It’s comfortable, surprisingly so, and you can’t even hide your disappointment when Jake eventually pulls up to your apartment building. He steps out of the limo and walks over to the passenger door to open it for you, holding out his hand to help you out like he’d done before, and you’re hit with the sensation of butterflies in your stomach.

Oh, this is bad.

You walk up to the front door of your building, and Jake follows you with his hands in his pockets. You’re almost tempted to invite him upstairs but you hold back, not wanting to come off as desperate.

“Thank you…” you say once you’re at the door. “For last night, and today…I had a really good time.” You’re blushing furiously by the time you’re done talking, and you stare down at your feet, kicking at a stone on the stoop.

“I’m glad to hear that,” Jake whispers.

A few moments of silence pass, before Jake sighs and fidgets with his flat cap, pulling it off to run his fingers through his hair.

“I’d like to see you again, if that’s something you want too,” he says reaching his arm towards you and holding your hand.

“Yes!” you blurt out, barely managing to contain your excitement as you try and fish out your phone from your purse. “Um, we can exchange numbers, and you can text me- oh shoot…my phone’s dead.”

You stare at the blank screen of your phone, and you look up to see Jake holding up his phone, which was also dead by the looks of it.

“It’s okay, I think I’ve got- ah, there we go,” you announce, as you pull out a tiny notebook and pen from your purse. You jot down your number really quick, making sure your handwriting is legible, before ripping the page off the book and handing it to Jake.

“Text me,” you whisper, smiling as your fingers brush against his as he grabs the paper. You don’t linger for too long after that, making your way into the building and up to your apartment, where you scramble to get to your window. You know it faces the street out front, and your surprised to see Jake still there, leaning against the hood of his limo, staring down at the paper you’d given to him.

You watch as he brings it up to his face, closing his eyes as he brushes his lips against the slip of paper before tucking it into his pocket. Your heart flutters in your chest and you turn away form the window, biting the nail of your thumb with a huge smile.

You go about the rest of the day feeling like you’re floating on a cloud, and when your phone charges and comes back on, you’re hit with a million notifications from your friends, all asking how the night went. You shoot a quick text to reassure them that you made your way back home, and just when you’re about to drop your phone back onto your bedside table, another message pops up.

Hey [Y/N], this is Jake Lockley.

This might just be the beginning of something really, really fun.

_______

i am horny <3 i hope y'all liked this one, it was a mess to write and took way longer than i liked. might turn this into a series

#m writes #moon knight fic #jake lockely x reader #jake lockely smut #jake lockley fic #nsft fic #moon knight smut #nsft writing

560 notes · View notes

heliads · 11 months

Note

Requesting a Clove x reader fic where the two have known each other since childhood! While Clove is an aspiring Tribute, the reader is from a super privileged District 2 family who’s exempt from the reapings, for some reason. (they were close allies with the capitol, ever since the first rebellion?? they train peacekeepers or make high-tech weapons?? Idk.) The reader always knew that Clove dreamed of participating in the games, and as her BFF (best friend-turned-girlfriend), she’s always supported her in her endeavors. Hell, her main motivation in learning hand to hand combat, even though she will never need to, is just so she can spar with Clove whenever Clove can’t train with anyone else. the reader probably still sucks though.

About a year before the 74th Game, the reader realizes just how close Clove is to being “ready.” And it scares her more than anything. She still tries to support Clove, and she still helps her practice occasionally, but she is clearly losing her enthusiasm each time Clove discusses or demonstrates her progress. Whether or not Clove has to convince her, the reader eventually spills out her fears for what will happen in the arena, verging on begging her not to volunteer next year. No matter how much she wants to trust Clove, she can’t fight down the dread that now shadows her 24/7. 23 enemies (especially the other Careers, they can’t be allies forever). Mutts. Bad weather. Dehydration, starvation, illness. There are too many things that can easily go wrong, so how could she possibly be okay with her best friend/girlfriend leaving?

This is of course an angst request, but here’s where you can decide if it stays that way! Does this become an AU where Clove later decides that she won’t volunteer, even if it means throwing so much away? The glory and her many years of preparation? The expectations of her peers, teachers, neighbors and family? (But that’s okay, the reader is willing to use her own family name to back her up if she has to.) Or is Clove just too far invested, and there’s no turning away from her life purpose? If that’s the case, then… the reader needs a big fucking hug, and she’ll be there to say goodbye before Clove leaves for the capitol.

just realized that this actually works as a prequel to my other clove request, which is dare i say iconic. also anon you must know that if you offer me a chance for angst i will never turn it down! !

masterlist

If someone were to listen to the gaping cavity in your chest, you think they’d hear the thud of a throwing knife against a target instead of regular heartbeats. It certainly feels like that, at least; you must have spent hours in the training room just today, and that’s not even mentioning every other day in your past and future.

That’s how it must be, though. Someone has to train until they’re as close to perfection as a human being can get. Someone has to be able to kill twenty-three other tributes until they’re the only one left standing. Someone must do all this, and that someone must be Clove.

The idea of prepping your girlfriend for the arena is somewhat morbid, but it’s not as if you truly had a choice in the matter. Clove made you swear to help her when you were small, and you’ve never been able to hold her in anything less than your word. If you really think about it, what you’re doing here is saving her, not damning her. By ensuring that Clove is as good as she could possibly be, you do all you can to keep her alive when she’s finally beyond your reach as a competitor.

Besides, it’s the least you can do. You won’t be in the Games, after all. Your name is not in the Reaping, nor has it been any of the other years you’ve technically been eligible. That’s the way it went for your father, and for his father before him. The Capitol does not like sparing any of the districts from the Hunger Games, but for a family they need in Two, certain exceptions were made.

The first lesson your family taught you was how to make yourself important. You should always have debts owed to you, favors that need to be paid off. That’s how you stay alive, how you stay out of trouble, and, most importantly of all, how you ensure that your name will never be called to participate in the Hunger Games.

In a place like District Two, where volunteers are commonplace, taking part in the Games is a source of pride. Lurking in the back of everyone’s mind, though, is the sickly truth that they’re not an honor but a chance to die. Sure, you could win it, and earn your family honor and respect, but you could lose the Games and have your life ended before you even saw twenty.

Your family knew that they needed to find a way to permanently stay out of the Reaping, so they played their cards right during the war and it paid off. Your family closely allied themselves with the right people in the Capitol, and so when the Hunger Games started, the leader of Panem made a rule that the names of anyone in your bloodline would never be called.

It was their only choice. Your family found a way to deeply involve themselves with the organization of the Peacekeepers. Without your relatives there to keep all of the branches interacting with each other in the best, most efficient way, the entire system would fall to pieces. There was a bit of dispute around that point when your grandfather was first running things, so he proved his points by stepping away. Nothing worked– the Peacekeepers in each district lost communication with each other and the Capitol in hours.

After that, they didn’t test you any longer, and your family was allowed to stay out of everything. It was an unspoken agreement that carried on no matter the leader of Panem, no matter the generation of your family. Your grandfather passed on the responsibility to your father, and you’ve been receiving the necessary training such that, when you finally come of age, you will be able to take it from him.

For the sake of pretense, all of you still entered your name on Reaping Day like everyone else, but the slips of paper would be removed before the ceremony began. That was to be expected, though. Divisions arise when people have a sense of inequality. If you want to stop the rebellions from arising, you reduce the visibility. You can’t grow outraged over unfair circumstances if you have no idea that the unfair circumstances exist at all.

To account for this, only the members of your family know that you’ll never enter the Reaping. You can play it off as good luck, and so long as you’re not obvious about it, no one will think twice about the fact that no L/N has ever entered the Hunger Games. Citizens are already distracted by the looming terror that one of their young ones could die within a month. No one’s tracking back your lineage to examine how many people you’ve lost.

You did tell one person, though. It couldn’t be helped. You and Clove tell each other anything anyway, how could you keep a secret like this? She made you swear to help her train years ago, but when the first year of Reaping eligibility finally started rolling around, Clove was confused as to why you weren’t training as vigorously as she was.

The answer you gave hesitantly, after consulting with various relatives to make sure you wouldn’t be damning most all of your loved ones. Clove took the news surprisingly well, actually. Maybe it’s because you were one fewer target that she had to take out. You were no longer a threat, which meant that you could instead be a friend. And then, later, you could be more. You could be someone she loved.

Loving her was inevitable. If you spend hours every day with another girl, if the two of you start sleeping over in each other’s rooms so as to not waste a single moment as the Games draw closer every year, if someone looked at you the way Clove did, of course you would fall. The falling was the easy part. Having to live with it was harder.

In the decades to come, you think you’ll look back on those years as the best of your life. Training always ramped up closer to the Games just in case; although Clove planned on volunteering when she was older so she’d have the best chance of a decisive victory, there was always the possibility that her name would be called before she was ready. Clove simply had to be prepared for anything, and so you cleared your schedule so you could help her out.

And so the days would pass, bleeding into weeks and months. You’d meet her at the District Two training center, or maybe the two of you would walk together. You learned combat for the sole purpose of being able to let her practice even better. You’d spot her while she was lifting weights, judge her form when she couldn’t watch her back, and do everything in your power to make sure she was going to win when the time came.

You have a thousand such memories stored in your head, of Clove throwing her first series of successive bullseyes and nearly tackling you to the ground from hugging you so hard; her exultant grin every time she could lift more, throw harder, do better; how she used to grab you around the waist with that mad laugh and tell you that she was going to do it all. You believed her, how could you not? How could you do anything but nod along, lost in her ferocity for life?

You loved her from the start, maybe. It was something you were born to do. You stood in her shadow and it did not darken your spirit, for it gave you the chance to watch her thrive and that would be enough for you, it always was. She was glorious. You were you. It had always felt uneven, but that was alright so long as you could just keep her.

The keeping her was the problem, though, as it would turn out. Clove wanted to volunteer, she always had. District Two raises golden tributes who can win better and faster than anyone else. Her end goal was always entering the Games so she could come out the other side with that title. It was her plan from day one, and you knew that, but somehow it still stunned you when she finally announced to you that it would be time to volunteer.

Your first reaction was disbelief. It was, of course, something that you were aware of the entire time, but it was wrong now. Clove volunteering was always something distant, an event that wouldn’t happen for years. It’s real now, though. It has always been real, but for once, you have to face it.

Selfishly, you had tried to talk Clove out of it, asking her not to volunteer. If her name was called, of course she would enter the Games anyway, but why put herself in unnecessary danger? You begged and pleaded, you asked her to stay out if not for her own life than for yours, but Clove just laughed and said you wouldn’t have to worry, because she would win. Of course she would win. There was no world in her mind in which she would die.

Still, you tried to persuade her otherwise. You still helped her train, but your enthusiasm flagged by the day. You were no longer protecting her from death, you were preparing her for her own demise. You encouraged this in her. You are to blame if– when– she dies. It will be her blood on your hands, and that will be something you will never be able to forget.

All of your attempts come to naught. The Reaping still comes, and although Clove has not promised you anything outright, you find it hard to believe that you’d be able to break through so many years of propaganda to make her realize that her life is worth more to you than her dying in the Games for glory that would only end up someone else’s. It doesn’t matter that you would put your family name on the line to keep her safe, this is what Clove wants, and you’ve known her long enough to recognize that it’s what she will get.

On Reaping Day, you find yourself lining up with the other District Two girls to learn who will become your tributes for the coming Games. You have never feared the Reaping; why would you, when you know for certainty that you and your family would always be safe? Now, though, your entire frame is wracked with terror. Either Clove’s name is called or she will put herself in. There is no way you win.

The designated representative from the Capitol takes to the stage, and then they reach their hand inside the glass vessel enclosing the names of all the eligible female contestants. The Capitol rep reads out a collection of syllables, and it is not Clove’s. You feel one wave of relief crash into you, and it takes everything in you to stay standing. That’s one possibility eliminated, at least.

You look over at Clove and you feel sick to your stomach, all confidence from before evaporating just as quickly as it came. She’s got that look in her eyes again, and you know what’s coming before she can form a single word. This is how it ends, then. This is how you lose her.

And then, at the very last moment, someone else could volunteer before Clove. The fate of the female tribute from District Two would only be decided because someone else was able to raise their voice faster than your girlfriend. It would be so easy for everyone to brush off the whole affair. It’s what they expect to see, after all. There’s a brilliant Career volunteering, and maybe it wasn’t Clove, but it’s still one of their own.

You, though? You were watching. It would be so simple if Clove just waited. It would have been just a half second’s pause, but it would be enough. No one would know. No one would have known but you. A thousand intricacies in one poorly timed breath, and Clove would stay alive. Easy as that.

But then Clove tugs the other girl down, shoves a hand over her mouth before she can scream, and yells that she will volunteer. This is not your imagination. This is not all the scenarios you can conjure up in your own head. Clove will never back down, and so despite your best attempts, you will never be able to escape this.

Clove is in the aisle before you know what’s going on. She’s marching towards the stage with that determined gaze she’s always worn so well. The Capitol citizen asks Clove her name and she answers, her hand is raised, the crowd cheers. You stare at her in horror, and she grins proudly. This is what she’s always wanted. You knew she would get it.

You find her afterwards. Tributes are allowed to say their goodbyes, and your family knows you enough to make room for you once they tell her to win. Your fingers find holds in her clothes, and you beg Clove to find some way out of this. Say it was a mistake. Say you said the wrong name, that you took the chance from another volunteer. Find some way to come back to me.

Clove would never listen. It’s all in her hands now, and you can see the excitement building in her chest as she thinks about it more. In moments, she will board a train to the Capitol, and then she will win the Games and you will be sorry for doubting her. Clove has dreamed of this while you were dreaming of her death. She knows exactly how this will play out.

Clove leans over to you, says I’m doing this for both of us, and then she’s across the room in the blink of an eye, telling the Peacemakers that she’s ready to go. The last sight of her is the vicious, glimmering girl you’ve always known, and then the doors slam shut behind her and she is yours no more.

You see her die when you’re least expecting it. She made it past the initial bloodbath, past the splitting of the Careers, past all the twists and turns of fate. You honestly thought she would win by that point, even though Cato was still in it. Clove had told you privately once that she would kill any of the other Twos were they to be her fellow tribute, no matter how strong an ally. She would never hesitate, and she would win. You believed her.

Clove doesn’t get the chance to prove herself right or wrong. She dies trying to kill Katniss Everdeen, that revolutionary from District Twelve. Clove was taunting her, taking her time about the kills. It was a mistake, and it haunts you to know that’s what her district will think of her. They won’t remember her bravery for joining the games, they’ll point out that one flaw in her perfect game to their children so the next generation will be even better.

You miss her night and day. You still expect the Capitol trains to bear her back to you when the Games are over, and it takes your brain some convincing to realize that Katniss and Peeta won the Games this round, not your lover. She’s yours no longer. She’s yours forever. Yours and that of the cold, dark earth in which you buried her empty casket. The grass grows over it now, thick and green. You knot your hands in it when the going gets tough and you scream at her for leaving you. She never answers.

It sickens you later, poisoning your mind against everything you’d ever held dear. This was their golden girl, their Clove, and when she died, they all tossed her aside like a bloody rag doll. She gave them everything and they can’t even remember her properly.

Another war comes soon. It brings rebellion to your very doorstep. Soon enough, they find you, and tell you that there are ways to help their cause. If you were not so foolish to admit it, you think you might even be listening.

If you were to do it, you’d do it for her. Clove always taught you to never back down. You think of her, and you enter the fray.

hunger games tag list: @w1shes43, @ilovexavierthrope

#clove #clove imagines #clove x reader #clove oneshot #hunger games #hunger games imagines #hunger games x reader #hunger games oneshot #thg #thg imagines #thg x reader #thg oneshot #hunger games clove #hunger games clove x reader #hunger games clove oneshot

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imaginespazzi · 4 months

Text

You Weren't Mine To Lose

They think they're so good at pretending when all they're really good at is pining.

(In which a masochistic writer puts her beloved ship through hell until giving them their much deserved happy ending)

Pairing: Paige Bueckers X Azzi Fudd

Themes: Angst, Pining and a teensy bit of Fluff

Words: 8.2K (idk how this happened but oops? 🙈)

TW: Implied sexual content, mentions of panic attacks, small mention of blood, alcohol, and lots of swearing

“I think that maybe we should end this.”

Azzi Fudd had been on the receiving end of plenty of harsh sentences. And she’d been certain that there wasn’t a sentence left on this planet that could hurt her more than the one the doctor had used to tell her about her torn acl. Until now, until Paige Bueckers, eyes drifting everywhere but towards the girl in front of her, had said those eight words.

“I just,” Paige pauses, rubbing her face, “I think I need something else.”

The words hit Azzi like acid rain, burning into her skin and infiltrating something she can’t quite explain in words. This wasn’t what she’d planned when she’d come searching for her best friend. No, she’d had an entirely different conversation in mind. She swallows the I love you, let’s be more, that had been on the tip of her tongue and chases it down with the carefully constructed speech of wanting forever and happily every after she’d written in her mind. The voice in her head shouts I fucking told you so, she was never yours and Azzi wants to scream.

But what comes out is a quiet, feeble, “okay.”

“That’s it? Okay?”

“Okay,” Azzi repeats, clearing her throat, trying to make her voice sound cavalier, “we said no strings and that means you can end it whenever you want. You don’t owe me any explanation and I won’t ask anything.”

“Right. No strings.”

It had been Azzi’s idea really, her stupid dumb self-preservationist idea that had led her to this moment. They’d been drunk the first time it had happened but she remembers it clearly.

Remembers the way an inebriated Paige had clung to her, eyes shining with lust.

Remembers the way Paige had whispered her name, desire clinging to each syllable.

Remembers the shivers that had crept up her spine as Paige’s hands had gone on a journey starting at her shoulders, and then down her arms, before finally rubbing circles around her waist.

Remembers the moment she decided fuck it.

But most of all she remembers the morning after, remembers the questions written all over Paige’s face, remembers making another decision. Just best friends who occasionally fuck, no strings, just fun. She’d been stupid to think that if she ignored them, the strings just wouldn’t exist. That if she pretended it was just sex, that she wasn’t so completely in love with her best friend, she would get over it. Newsflash: she hadn’t gotten over it.

“Well that’s that then,” Azzi says with a brightness she doesn’t feel, as she heads towards the door, desperate to get away, “I forgot Carol needed help with something so.”

“Azzi.”

She hates the hope that rises in her at the sound of her name. Tell me to stay. Tell me you didn’t mean it. Tell me you love me too.

“We’re still us right?” Paige asks quietly, her voice filled with uncharacteristic vulnerability.

“Of course Paige,” Azzi says, her back still turned towards Paige, knowing if she turns, if she lets Paige see her face, her best friend will see her words for the lies they are, “we’ll always be us.”

***

Azzi doesn’t know how she manages to get to Caroline’s room without falling to pieces. Her legs feel like they’re a second away from giving out and her arms shake uncontrollably. The dull beat of stress headache pounds in her skull.

“Ah Mrs. Bueckers,” Caroline smiles jubilantly as Azzi lets herself in, “did you guys finally figure it out?”

It takes her a second to catch her breath and to understand the meaning of Mrs. Bueckers. And then, Azzi breaks. Laughter erupts from her body and suddenly she’s cackling like a woman possessed. It sounds like shattering glass to her own ears and this is it, she thinks, I’ve officially reached peak madness. But she can’t stop, her body doubling over as she clutches at her stomach, tears beginning to leak from her eyes.

Caroline’s eyes widen, her smile slowly slipping off as the realisation that something has gone very wrong settles in.

“Azzi, fuck, what happened,” she asks, unsure of wether to approach the distressed girl, who, instead of answering, starts laughing harder, “shit, should I get Paige.”

Something shift’s at the mention of Paige’s name. The laughter dies away and instead, an unsettling panic takes birth in Azzi’s stomach at the idea of Paige seeing her like this.

“No,” she chokes out frantically, “don’t get Paige.”

Caroline’s concern grows at that. It had become a rule of sorts, if one of Paige or Azzi seemed to be going through it, then the best thing to do was to go find the other. They knew each other’s wants and needs better than anyone else could ever hope to. And what they wanted, was usually the other to hold them through the pain. So this, Azzi not asking for Paige, Azzi actively denying her need for Paige, this was bad, very bad.

“What happened Az?”

“She ended it,” the words leave Azzi’s mouth in tandem with the air leaving her lungs, “oh my god. Oh my god. Oh my god. She ended it. Fuck. She wants something else, something more and that’s not– I’m not– oh my god.”

“Az-”

“I knew this was a bad idea but- oh my god. She ended it,” tears wrack through her body as reality crashes and burns around Azzi, “I was so stupid, so, so stupid. I told you this would happen Caroline. I told you she didn’t feel the same. Oh my god, I can’t breathe, I can’t breathe.”

“Azzi,” Caroline grabs at the brown-skinned girl, spotting the tell-tale signs of panic attack, “breathe with me Az, come on, it’s okay.”

“No it’s not,” Azzi manages to get out, gasping for air, her body vibrating with sobs, “it’s not going to be okay because she doesn’t love me. She doesn’t love me and I don’t know how to live with that because all I know is how to love her.”

Azzi feels the energy leave her body as she goes limp in Caroline’s arms, letting the taller girl anchor her. She’s not ready yet, not ready for tomorrow when she’ll inevitably have to play pretend. She’ll have to stand in the same room as her best friend and put on a smile and pretend that she wouldn’t rather be anywhere but there. She’ll have to bicker and tease and laugh with the girl who broke her heart and pretend that she’d never given her the power to break it in the first place. And Azzi would do it all, because that’s what she’d promised Paige. She’d looked in the blonde girl’s eyes at the age of fifteen and swore to her that no matter what happened, the two of them would always be them. They would always be okay. And Azzi was going to do everything in her power to keep that promise

***

The first few days are fine and Azzi almost deludes herself into believing that she's okay. They fall into their old rhythm of being just best friends almost seamlessly, at least they do when they’re with their teammates. She’s not ready to confront the fact that they haven’t been by themselves, just the two of them, since that night. And if Paige notices the way Azzi avoids being alone with her, she keeps it to herself.

The same way they didn’t tell anyone they were more, they don’t tell anyone they’re less. They don’t need to; the team just knows. Even the coaches, who knew but never said a word, can tell something’s off. It’s in the little hesitations before the smiles, the moments of pause before saying something. But most of all it’s in the way Paige and Azzi don’t touch at all anymore. There’s no more Paige making it a mission to find ways to let her hands linger just a little longer on Azzi’s body when she’s in defending her, no more not-so-subtle brushes and linking pinkies as they walk past each other in the hallways, no more “just another one” pecks in the training rooms as everyone else waits for them.

Nothing changes on the court. Paige passes the ball, a pass only she could see, and Azzi shoots it, a shot only she could get off. They play in tandem, their backcourt chemistry still perfect. But the slap of their hands after the ball goes through the hoop, is half-hearted and formal, like teammates. Less. So, maybe Azzi’s wrong. Maybe they haven’t really fallen back into their old patterns and maybe everybody knows it. But in the bright lights of the gym, as she and Paige argue over a defensive play, and the game of basketball keeps them tethered to each other, she thinks that this will have to be enough.

***

And then, things go from okay to very much not okay. It’s after practice and they’ve chosen Paige’s apartment as their relaxation spot, except Paige isn’t there. She’d snuck away after practice and Azzi had pretended, it’s all she seems to do these days, not to notice. She’s not used to not knowing where Paige is but she’d quenched the overwhelming need to ask the blonde girl where she was going while completely ignoring the part of her that wanted to ask if she could come along.

“And that’s how your brain eats itself,” Amari finishes a long winded explanation with a triumphant smile. There’s dead silence as the rest of the team looks at each other before they all burst into laughter.

“How the hell do you even know that?” Aaliyah manages to get out through peals of laughter.

“Y’all don’t google?” Amari asks incredulously, and the way her face scrunches up causes a brand new wave of giggles to flood the room.

“We google,” Azzi says and she hasn’t smiled like this in days, “we just don’t google things like that.”

Amari lets out an indignant squawk at that and Azzi feels a sense of calm that she hasn’t in a while. It lasts about a minute until two voices, one unfamiliar, one too familiar, begin to invade the room. Paige stumbles in a second later and fuck. Azzi’s breath catches in her throat as she desperately tries to look away from where Paige’s hand is firmly intertwined with someone else’s. It’s a mistake because her eyes land on Paige's face instead and that might be worse. She’s met with a glowing smile and bright eyes, none of which are directed towards Azzi. Instead, all of Paige’s happiness is for another girl.

“Layla,” she hears Aubrey say and oh. Because Azzi knows exactly who Layla is, or at least who she was. There had been a freshman Paige that Azzi had never really known beyond the phone calls and facetimes with her Paige. But she’d known that Paige had gotten around and she’d heard of Layla. They told each other everything and hookups fell right into the scheme of things. Layla had been Paige’s go-to on nights she’d been too tired to go looking for someone else. She’d been such a constant, that she’d slowly become a friend. Things had changed gradually from the moment Azzi stepped on campus. Even before they’d brought sex into it, all of Paige’s time had been Azzi’s, well, until now.

“Hey guys,” Layla smiles and is greeted back with a chorus of not so enthusiastic “hello’s”

“Lay, let’s go,” Paige whines impatiently.

“Give me a second Bueckers, I’m trying to be polite,” Layla rolls her eyes but Azzi doesn’t miss the fondness in them and everything burns again.

“Be polite later,” Paige tugs on Layla’s hand. In turn, Layla gives the team a slightly apologetic smile before letting the blonde girl pull her away. The bang of Paige’s door closing behind the two of them reverberates around the pin drop silence of the living room, that had been filled with laughter only mere seconds ago.

Azzi finds herself suffocating under the sympathetic glances her teammates send her way. She digs her fingernails deep into the palm of her hand, forming dents she knows will bleed. If it hurts, she doesn’t feel it over the reckless thumping in her chest. One, two, three, breathe, she counts to herself, refusing to break down in front of her teammates.

“It’s called phagocytosis,” Amari says after a second, trying to fill the silence, “and I mean it’s not really the brain eating itself but it feels like it.”

“So you just technically lied then.”

“I did no such thing. It was a slight exaggeration maybe.”

“Phagocytosis sounds like a really weird disease.”

“Yeah, maybe Amari has it.”

The team dissolves back into giggles, not quite as rambunctious as before but it’s enough. Enough for them to be distracted. Enough for Azzi to escape. Not enough for Caroline to not notice but Azzi knows her friend will give her a moment. She takes the stairs almost three at a time, flinging the door to her apartment and then to her room. The force of it creates a circle of wind around her and for a second, to her dizzy brain, it feels like Azzi’s floating. She doesn’t bother with the lights, flinging herself onto her bed. Pressing her hands to her forehead, she desperately tries to block the constant stream of thoughts in her head about Paige and Layla. It doesn’t help. And in the familiar comfort of her bedroom, Azzi curls into herself, and lets herself fall apart.

***

The ball passes right through Azzi’s hand and rolls out of bounds. Azzi curses to herself as she hears Coach yell her name. It’s almost the end of practice, and she can hear the disappointment in his voice as he subs her out of their scrimmage. She’d been distracted the whole time, a step too slow on both sides of the ball. It was a novel thing. Azzi had bad games sometimes but she rarely had bad practices. As she walks off to the side, she can feel Paige’s eyes glaring at her. It had been her assist after all that Azzi hadn’t converted. She shrinks into herself, disappointment and shame colliding into one, because they’d done such a good job at not letting their personal havoc impact their game. And she’d blown it.

“What the hell was that,” true to what she’d expected, Paige turns on her the minute they enter the locker room after practice. They’ve barely spoken in the last couple of days and Azzi closes her eyes, letting herself revel just for a second in the feeling of having Paige so close.

“It was an accident,” she replies, turning her body so she’s face to face with her best friend.

Paige scoffs, “which one?”

“Excuse me?”

“You heard me. Which one was the accident? That perfect pass you just let go to waste? Was it that wide open three you missed? Or the blind drive to the basket into three defenders for no reason? Oh wait, maybe it was when you completely lost yourself on defence?” Paige rants, anger coating every word. It’s not new for Paige to hold Azzi accountable and god, maybe Azzi’s even missed it a little bit but she can’t help feeling annoyed that this this is what had triggered the old Paige.

“I had a bad day. It happens,” Azzi’s voice is colder than she means for it to come out but all the emotions she’s been suppressing are bubbling at the top of her throat.

“Well it can’t happen. You do that in a game and we’re fucked,” Paige retorts. The rest of the team continues to do what they’ve been doing, occasionally glancing at the two arguing girls. It’s another of those unspoken rules, don’t interfere when Paige and Azzi are fighting.

“I didn’t do it in a game.”

“But you could. And if you keep practising like that you’re going to end up embarrassing yourself in a game.”

“Again, it was one bad day Paige, I’ll keep it in mind and I’ll be better tomorrow,” frustration seeps into her tone and Azzi hopes that her words are enough for Paige.

“You better because that can’t happen again Azzi,” Paige says.

“I just said it wouldn’t,” Azzi’s voice rises, throwing her hands up in irritation.

“Don’t yell at me, I’m-”

“Paige?” a new voice cuts in and both girls reluctantly look away from each other to see Layla, “hey, you okay? You wanna get out of here.”

“I-” Paige lets out a breath, looking back and forth between Azzi and Layla. And Azzi waits, waits for Paige to tell the new girl not to get in between Paige and Azzi, like she always had when anyone else had tried to step into their fights. She waits for Paige to tell Laya that she’s fine, and that she and Azzi just need to talk it out. She waits, and it never comes.

“Yeah, yeah I do,” the blonde girl says instead, giving Layla a small smile. She looks over at Azzi, something unreadable in her eyes, before grabbing her stuff and walking out.

“Shit,” Caroline whispers under her breath, a sentiment clearly echoed in the rest of the team’s faces. Paige and Azzi didn’t leave arguments unfinished. They'd been in uncharted waters with the two girls for a while now, and this feels like yet another turning point.

Anger and frustration course through Azzi’s veins. She just left her brain sneers at her. The hurt and pain fade to the back of her mind, as Azzi lets these new emotions settle all over her. She’s cried more in the last couple of weeks than she ever has in her life and she realises slowly, letting this new volatility swarm her, that she has no more tears left to give. She left. And then a new voice enters her brain, and you let her go.

***

A knock on the door shakes Azzi away from her thoughts. The book on her lap that she’d been pretending to read, falls unmajestically to the floor. Through bleary eyes, she sees the 10 o’clock on her watch and confusion settles into her. She’d been clear before leaving the locker room that she wanted to be alone tonight and while her teammates had protested a little, they’d eventually agreed to give her space, although Caroline had been adamant on coming to wish her a good night. It was far too early for that. She sighs, ready to huff at whichever of her teammates had ignored her pleas. Instead she’s met with the sight of a sheepish looking Paige.

“Hey,” the blonde girl smiles and it’s small and slightly cautious but it’s so genuine.

“Hi,” Azzi says softly.

“I think I owe you a little bit of an apology,” Paige says.

Azzi’s eyebrows furrow at that, “since when do you apologise for holding me accountable?”

“I- well,” Paige stutters, “Layla said I should.”

“That’s what Layla says is it?” Azzi can’t keep the bitterness out of her voice. They’d never apologised for critiquing each other’s games or practise before and suddenly Layla had said Paige should and Paige had listened. Azzi hates everything about that.

“Is me apologizing a bad thing? What’s with the attitude?”

“No,” Azzi sighs, not having the mental stamina to deal with right now, “I’m just tired. I appreciate the apology and I’m sorry too.”

It sounds so formal to her own ears, like two acquaintances writing emails to each other. As they stand face to face, separated by mere inches, Azzi realises the depth of the chiasm between them. And she doesn’t know if she has the strength to build a bridge to go over it.

“Do you want to watch a movie,” Paige asks finally, her voice tinged with hope.

“I don’t know Paige. I’m tired and-”

“Please,” there’s desperation in Paige's voice now, “we haven’t done anything just you and me in a while and,” she stops, her eyes wet as they come up to meet Azzi’s, “I miss you.”

I miss you too, Azzi wants to stay. She wants to throw herself at Paige and wrap herself in the comfort of her arms. She wants to massage away the stress lines on her forehead and kiss away the tears threatening to fall from her blue eyes. Instead, Azzi simply manages to nod and steps away so Paige can come in. She’s rewarded with a smile so bright, it makes her heart ache.

As Paige enters the room, Azzi’s reminded of the last time the two of them had been there together and she can’t help the faint blush that rises up her neck into her cheeks. That night had been different, Paige had been softer, slower. She’d taken her time with every touch, every kiss; her every move had been sinfully deliberate. Through all of it, she’d kept her eyes locked with Azzi’s, making sure she could see how desperately Paige needed her in that moment. And Azzi, hands fisting sheets, had let her take whatever she wanted. She wonders if Paige knew that would be their last time, if she’d already decided to end things. I’d have held on longer if I knew.

Paige’s eyes linger on the bed for a second, before she decides to sit on the couch and Azzi follows her lead. They both curl up as close to the arm rests on their side as they can, leaving an unfathomably large amount of space between themselves for two basketball players who had been attached at the hip since they were fifteen. The awkwardness is palpable as Azzi picks a random comedy movie, the two of them making a subconscious decision to not revert to their normal routine of arguing about what to watch.

It takes a quarter or so of the movie before they find some semblance of normalcy. Paige finally lets out a laugh, after having reined it in during previous funny scenes and it sets Azzi off. And then they’re both giggling messes, feeding off of each other’s infectious laughter. The tension eases and they both unconsciously let their bodies uncurl, letting their legs tangle with each other. It comes so naturally, they don’t even really notice that they’re touching for the first time in weeks. They’re too busy laughing, and when they’re not, there’s a comfortable silence and it’s just, it’s them. Azzi doesn’t know when she falls asleep, she just knows it’s the best sleep she’s had in a while.

***

Azzi stirs awake to cold hands caressing her face, Paige’s touch ever so familiar. She keeps her eyes closed, scared it’s a dream. She’s had a lot of those lately.

“I wish you felt the same,” Paige whispers, pressing her lips to Azzi’s forehead and Azzi swears she feels a teardrop fall on her face. But before she can react, before she can reach out for the figure she can feel hovering above her, she feels it retreat away from her.

When she finally opens her eyes, she’s all alone.

***

Azzi’s on edge. The team had chosen a bar in a random town in Connecticut tonight, instead of going to Ted’s as usual. It was meant to be a change of scenery and they were unlikely to be as recognized in such a random area. In theory, it sounded like a good idea, but the combination of a brand new place with people she’d never seen in her life, made Azzi far more tense than she had thought it would. On top of that, she hadn’t wanted to go out tonight in the first place. It had been two days since Paige had left her cryptically, and with the way the blond was vehemently avoiding her, Azzi was partially convinced, maybe she had dreamt the whole thing. The exhaustion of it all had desperately made her want to simply lie in bed and do nothing for hours. But if she’d stayed, one of her teammates would stay behind for her and if there was one thing Azzi didn’t want, it was to be an inconvenience.

And then there was the Layla of it all. Because apparently Paige didn’t go anywhere without Layla anymore. Remember when it was you, Azzi’s brain reminds her scathingly. From where she sits at a table with the rest of the team, she has a torturously close view of the two of them dancing together. It’s nothing scandalous, in fact to anybody else it’s probably the definition of friendly, but Azzi’s head is clouded with jealousy, and the three shots of vodka she’d already downed to ignore it.

“I think I need another round of shots,” she announces, noticing Paige and Layla start to make their way back to the table, “one of you come with me.”

“Is that a good idea?” Caroline asks tensely.

“Of course it is. Shots are good. Shots are fun,” Azzi wraps an arm around Caroline’s shoulder, her words coming out slightly slurred, “come with me pretty please.”

“Come where?” Paige’s voice interrupts.

“Nowhere you need to be,” Azzi retorts harshly and a flicker of hurt passes across Paige’s face. Azzi almost apologises, hating seeing Paige sad, but then her eyes focus in on where Layla’s hand is carefully placed on Paige’s bicep, and the sorry dies on the tip of her tongue. Instead, she roughly grabs Caroline and pulls her to the bar. She doesn’t get drunk often, hadn’t planned on doing it tonight but she’s so tired of feeling.

“Maybe we should cut you off,” Caroline says softly and Azzi pouts, “c’mon Azzi drinking so you don’t have to deal with your feelings is never a good idea you know that. You know I’m right.”

“I’m really tired of doing what’s right,” Azzi says despondently, waving the bartender over, “a shot of tequila please.”

Caroline sighs but seems to think better of trying again, shaking her head no when the bartender asks if she wants a drink of her own. She watches silently as Azzi downs the shot, concern and sympathy for her friend keeping her from snatching the shot away from Azzi.

“On me,” a deep voice echoes in Azzi’s ear as she pulls out her card to pay for the shot. She loses balance trying to turn around, but a pair of unfamiliar hands grab at her waist to keep her steady. Through the fuzziness in her brain, Azzi finds herself staring into green eyes; green eyes that belong to a pretty girl with blond hair and strong arms. And she’s tall, a voice in her brain says appreciatively. She looks just like Paige, well except the eyes, another less-amused voice points out. But she’s not Paige is she, the other voice reminds her snarkily.

“Oh you don’t have to do that,” Azzi hears Caroline say from behind, her voice weirdly pitched.

“I want to,” the pretty girl says, eyes never leaving Azzi, as she hands her card over to the bartender “I’m Stephanie.”

“Azzi.”

“And is the girl behind you, your girlfriend Azzi?” Stephanie asks, but her tone suggests she already knows.

“Who? Caroline. Oh absolutely not. Just a friend.”

“Good.”

“Good?”

“I don’t dance with pretty girls with girlfriends,” Stephanie says, emphasising the word pretty.

“We’re not dancing,” Azzi replies dumbly.

“Well let’s fix that,” Stephanie whispers and oh, she’s flirting, Azzi realises. It’s not that Azzi’s never had anyone hit on her. No, there’d been plenty of men but there hadn’t been a girl before, well never a girl that wasn’t Paige, “dance with me Azzi.”

Behind Azzi, Caroline chokes on air.

“Azzi,” she hisses, her eyes flickering over to where Paige is sitting, back turned to the bar. The point guard hasn’t seen what’s happening yet but Caroline knows the moment she catches wind of it, things would go up in quite literal flames.

Azzi stares up at Stephanie’s expectant eyes, before letting her gaze move to Paige, Paige who’s engrossed in a conversation with Layla, who’s laughing at something Layla said. She turns back to Stephanie, a shy smile playing on her lips.

“I’d love to dance,” she says softly, ignoring the groan Caroline lets out behind her and letting Stephanie pull her to the dance floor. Two can play the move on game.

Dancing with Stephanie is different. Her hands feel different against Azzi’s skin, a little too rough and yet still too soft. Her smile is different, sexy and sultry but missing an innocent frivolity that Azzi had become used to. But most of all it’s the eyes. The mysterious green, a sharp contrast from the calm, familiar blue. She pushes the comparisons to the back of her mind, determined to enjoy the way Stephanie twirls her around then pulls her in. And then they’re suddenly so close, noses almost touching. Azzi knows what’s going to happen and she can’t shake the feeling that it’s not right.

“I’m going to kiss you,” Stephanie whispers and the voices in Azzi’s head battle, her heart beating to a chorus of she’s not Paige. But the final nail in the coffin is an image of Paige and Layla that her brain conjures up and in an envious drunken haze, Azzi makes another of her not so great decisions. She nods her head yes.

It takes a second of Stephanie’s lips pressing against hers for Azzi to know it’s all wrong. As she starts pulling away, the sound of shattering glass wreaks havoc in ears. Eyes blinking rapidly, she follows the path of familiar voices shouting to locate the noise. Paige stands, a little distance away from the dance floor, face fuming red. A litany of broken glass shards surround her feet and a gush of red flows from the patch of skin where her left thumb meets her left palm.

“Paige, fuck,” concerns flows through Azzi but before she can make her way to the bleeding girl, Stephanie pulls her back in.

“Meet me outside in a bit yeah,” she says with a devilish smirk. She doesn’t give Azzi a chance to respond, before disappearing out of sight. Azzi blinks dumbfoundedly at the spot where the girl had previously been, the alcohol catching up to her brain.

“Paige oh my god you’re bleeding,” Nika’s voice shakes Azzi out of her trance, “can someone get a band-aid please.”

The crowd parts seamlessly as Azzi rushes towards her best friend, grabbing for her injured left hand.

“What the hell Paige?” she’s incredibly sober now, as she inspects Paige’s hand before it’s yanked out of her grip.

“I should ask you that. What. The. Hell. Azzi?” fury laces every word as Paige stares her down.

“I– what?” Azzi asks quizzically, still focused on trying to grab Paige’s hand again but the blonde girl is determined, despite wincing, to keep it out of her reach.

“Tell me, was she a good kisser?” Paige asks, eyes narrowing dangerously, “did you enjoy the kiss?”

“That’s–I–it–that’s not important,” Azzi stutters, “you’re bleeding Paige.”

“And I’ll keep bleeding till you answer the damn question,” the blonde girl says, unveiling a side of herself Azzi's never seen, “so tell me Azzi, was it a good kiss?”

“Paige,” Caroline says firmly, noticing the crowds that are building up around them, “I don’t think now’s the time.”

“No, I think it’s the perfect time actually. If she can kiss a stranger now, she can answer a question about this kiss now too,” Paige sneers.

“You’re making a scene,” Azzi whispers.

“I’m making a scene?” the laugh Paige lets out is borderline manic, “I’m making a scene? You’re the one borderline dry-humping a stranger in the middle of a random bar and I’m making a scene?”

“Excuse me?” Azzi recoils.

“Just telling the truth. Where’d she go then? Is she waiting for you outside?” when Azzi doesn’t reply, Paige find her answer in the silence and let’s out another laugh, “she is, isn’t she? Well then what the fuck are you doing here Azzi?”

“Paige,” Azzi says softly, eyes brimming with tears now, “you’re bleeding. Let me help you.”

“No, I don’t need your help Azzi.”

“Paige,” she tries again.

“No Azzi. I don’t need you. Go get fucking laid,” the words snap something in Azzi that has been on the edge of breaking since Paige had told her she wanted something else. She steps back from the blonde girl, blood boiling.

“You know what Paige,” her voice is far stronger than she feels, “maybe I fucking will.”

***

“Fuck,” Paige curses, fisting her palms and then hissing when her left hand aches. Regret pulsates through her head. She hadn’t meant it, any of it but especially not the last part. The last thing she wanted was Azzi to go after that girl.

Watching Azzi kiss someone else had been enough torture, the idea of her doing anything more would be the end of Paige’s sanity. It was ingrained in her brain now. She’d been laughing with Layla, hands encased around a beer bottle and then her teammates had gone oddly quiet, their eyes focused on something behind her. Confused, Paige had turned and immediately wished she hadn’t.

Standing in the middle of the dance floor was her Azzi, in somebody else’s arms. Layla, the saviour she’d been the last couple days, had immediately tried to distract her but Paige’s gaze was transfixed on Azzi. Her best friend twirled on the dance floor and a dagger twisted in Paige’s heart. And then, time seemed to slow down as the other girl brough Azzi impossibly close to her. Don’t you fucking dare Paige had thought, squeezing the glass bottle like a stress toy. On the dance floor, someone else, someone who wasn’t Paige, pressed their lips to Azzi’s and on the other side, Paige’s hands crushed the glass bottle into a thousand pieces.

When Azzi looked over, her lipstick slightly smudged, her eyes glassy, Paige had wanted to die. And when the girl had the audacity to pull Azzi back into her, Paige had wanted to commit murder. Misery and fury raged a battle in her head and when Azzi had rushed over, the gentle touch of her hand had been too much. And then Paige had taken it too far.

“Shit, shit, shit, shit,” she repeats, ignoring her teammates as she fights through the crowd to chase after Azzi. Some people move easily, others glare and some flat out yell at her but Paige doesn’t care; she focuses solely on getting to the girl she’d just let go.

“Azzi?” she calls out, stepping out of the bar into the cold breeze, “please, please, please don’t go. Azzi?”

She scans the parking lot for the brunette, frantically pacing around the entrance but there’s no sign of Azzi. Paige hasn’t cried since the night she’d ended it, throwing herself in work and basketball and Layla but as the realisation that Azzi left, that maybe it’s too late, hits her, the tears she’d so carefully kept at bay, traipse down her cheeks like a never ending waterfall.

***

The whole team is silent in the living room as Nika bandages Paige’s left hand. The tension in the air is palpable as Amari paces the room, the sounds of her feet moving matching the rhythm of Aubrey nervously snacking on a packet of chips.

“Are you going to explain yourself,” Aaliyah breaks through the quiet, her question directed at Paige.

“It was an accident,” Paige doesn’t mean to get defensive. She’s aware she fucked up tonight but there’s too much going on and her head is still stuck at Azzi. Azzi, who had left with a random girl and only texted Caroline the words I’m fine after Caroline had blown up her phone with concerned texts. Paige’s I’m sorry, hadn’t gotten any reply.

“An accident,” Aaliayh says slowly, raising an eyebrow, “that’s what you’re going with?��

“I didn’t purposely break a glass bottle and fuck up my thumb Aaliyah.”

“Coach is going to kill you,” Aubrey says nervously, “this is not good Paige.”

“Did I miss the gang up on Paige memo? Because why am I the one being yelled at right now?”

“Who’s yelling?” Amari supplies unhelpfully.

“That’s not the point,” Paige glares at the taller girl who puts her hands up in defeat, “Why am I the one getting this responsibility lecture? I’m not the one who just made out with a random stranger in a bar and then just fucking left with them. We don’t even know where the hell she is.”

She knows she sounds bitter but the hurt of the night still stings and she doesn’t have the mental capacity to deal with her teammates being mad at her rightnow. Tomorrow, she’d apologise and own up but she’s feeling reckless tonight. Her teammates are silent and Paige thinks, maybe they’re going to drop it too. And then Caroline speaks, her voice steely in a way that doesn’t match her normally soft sweet self.

“And what’s wrong with that?” she meets Paige’s eyes with an unexpected fierceness, “she’s single. Stephanie as far as I know is single. Azzi’s a grown adult who can hook up with whoever the hell she feels like. It’s not just something you can do.”

“That’s not the point,” Paige growls, “”you guys always know where I-”

“I know exactly where Azzi is actually,” Caroline rebuts , “so what exactly is the problem here?”

“She– I– It’s,” Paige bumbles on, not having an actual answer.

“You’re the one who ended it,” Caroline says, her voice accusatory, and the whole room seems to hold their breath at that, “you ended it and you don’t get to question what she does now. It’s over Paige and that was your decision.”

Paige gapes at Caroline, “how can you, of all people, say that to me?”

“Excuse me?”

“You’re the only one who knows Carol,” Paige says slowly and it’s Carol’s turn to be confused now. The rest of the team shoots each other questioning glances, things suddenly seeming even more puzzling than before.

“I heard you that night,” the blonde girl says, her voice breaking a little, “I heard you and Azzi.”

“Paige,” Caroline says, always quick to catch things, “what exactly did you hear?”

“I heard enough,” Paige says, closing her eyes because she can still hear that conversation in her head, “I heard her telling you she was going to end it, that she was tired of our arrangement. That she wanted– she needed– something else.”

“Oh Paige,” Nika says softly, putting an arm around Paige’s shoulders and her twin practically melts into the comforting touch.

“But I know her. She’s not good at that stuff. Always such a people pleaser. It was gonna be too hard for her to say it to me, so I said it for her. I broke my own heart, so she didn’t have to.”

A heavy silence follows Paige’s words as the blonde girl lets the tears fall for the second time that night. Her teammates are lost for words, the gravity of the situation, of Paige’s feelings, too much for all of them. A myriad of emotions flitter across Caroline’s face before finally settling on a saddened sympathy.

“Paige,” she says softly, coming to sit in front of the sobbing point guard, “you didn’t hear the whole conversation. God you’re such an idiot, the both of you are honestly.”

“Talk about kicking me when I’m down Carol,” Paige jokes.

“That’s not– Paige I can’t tell you the whole conversation because you deserve to hear it from her and she deserves the chance to say it to you. But Paige, Azzi wasn’t going to end it because she wanted less, she was going to end it because she wanted more. From you, for both of you,” Caroline says, hoping against hope that Paige understands what she means.

The realisation hits Paige in waves. She wants more. The words echo through her head and carve out a place in her heart. She wants more. Azzi had wanted more and Paige had wanted more and oh, they’d been so fucking stupid.

“I pushed her too far though,” Paige says as another realisation, the fact that Azzi isn’t here hits her, “she’s gone. Fuck, I need to be alone.”

“No Paige wai-” Caroline begins but Paige is gone out the door before she can tell the girl where Azzi is. She considers going after Paige but decides that maybe she’s revealed enough today. Maybe they could figure out the rest of it by themselves.

***

She’d meant to go to her own apartment, to her own room but her feet had a mind of their own, bringing her to Azzi’s instead. It was muscle memory really, her finding Azzi when she needed to be held. Except, there would be no Azzi to hold her tonight. Still, being in her room, where it smelt like her, Paige could pretend. She’d gotten pretty good at that.

The door opens smoothly as Paige slides into the room. And she almost gasps.

In the dim light of the night lamp, Azzi lies curled up in bed. She’s cuddling a pillow to her chest, her blanket pulled up to her neck with one hand slightly out of it. And she’s wearing one of Paige’s shirts,

She’s the most beautiful girl Paige has ever seen.

Carefully, trying to make as little sound as possible, Paige creeps closer to the sleeping girls. She can vaguely make out the tear tracks running down Azzi’s face and the guilt of it runs through Paige. A part of her thinks, maybe she should leave, wait til tomorrow. But she can’t. Instead she grabs one of Azzi’s shirts that lay scattered on the bean bag chair placed at the end of the bed. Quietly, she changes into it, breathing in the scent of all things Azzi.

“Paige.” Azzi whispers groggily as Paige slips underneath the covers, lying down facing the sleeping girl.

“Yeah,” Paige replies softly, caressing Azzi’s cheeks, “it’s me.”

“It’s not,” Azzi says wistfully, eyes still closed, as she wraps an arm around Paige’s torso, “it’s just me dreaming again.”

“You dream about me?” Paige asks, hating the hurt she can hear in Azzi’s voice.

“Mmm,” comes Azzi’s answer as she snuggles further into Paige, “all the time. I’ll take you however I can get you Paige. Even if it's a dream. Even if you’re not here in the morning.”

“I will be tomorrow. I promise,” Paige presses a kiss to the top of Azzi’s head and the darker skinned girl lets out a content sigh but Paige can tell she still thinks she’s dreaming, that she still thinks she’ll wake up alone tomorrow.

But Paige Bueckers doesn’t break promises. She’d be right there with Azzi tomorrow morning and if things went the way she wanted them to, then she’d be there for every morning after.

***

It’s the best sleep she’s gotten in weeks and Paige wakes up in a complete state of serenity. It doesn’t last long when she blindly feels around the bed for Azzi’s warm body, only to find the cool of empty sheets under her head instead. She jolts up frantically, mind going million miles an hour thinking up the worst possibilities. Her heartbeat begins to calm down as she finally finds the brunette curled up on the bean bag chair with her knees pulled to her chest.

“Hey,” Paige breathes out, unable to stop the smile that spreads across her face. Azzi doesn’t smile back

“What are you doing here Paige?” Azzi asks warily and Paige is instantly defensive.

“What are you doing here Azzi? Didn’t you say you were going to get laid?”

“And what if I did?”

“Well it must not have been very good if you came home that early and put on another girl’s shirt,” Paige says pointedly, amused by the pink that appears on Azzi’s cheeks. She knows the other girl’s lying, it’s just a matter of how long she’ll keep up the ruse.

“I grabbed whatever was closest.”

“Is that so?” Paige quirks an eyebrow, “I wouldn’t stand for it, letting the girl I’d just fucked wear someone else’s clothes. You know that.”

Azzi’s blush intensifies and she’s quick to change topics, “does your girlfriend know you snuck into another girl’s room last night?”

“I wasn’t aware I had a girlfriend,” Paige says, confused by the question.

“So what exactly is Layla then?”

“She’s a friend.”

“Yeah right,” Azzi scoffs, rolling her eyes. Paige stares at her best friend, wondering if she’s gone insane. Her and Layla? Even thinking about it felt a little insane. Sure, she’d slept with the girl a couple of times her freshmen year but even that had felt insanely platonic.

“Az,” she says softly when the realisation sinks in, “Layla is not my girlfriend. She’s– well, I guess she’s my escape? I just– I needed a friend who wasn’t also your friend and she was there and it was easy. You really thought she was my girlfriend?”

“What was I supposed to think Paige?” Azzi says miserably, voice rising with each word, “you said you needed something else and Layla’s something else so I put two and two together and apparently came up with five.”

“I didn’t–,” Paige takes in a deep breath, it was now or never, “I thought you were gonna break my heart.”

“What?”

Paige sighs at the incredulity in Azzi’s voice, “I overheard you telling Carol that you were gonna end it with me, that you needed something else.”

“Oh,” she can see the clogs in Azzi’s brain turning, remembering exactly which conversation Paige is talking about.

“Yeah. So I ended it before you could. I couldn’t let you– I didn’t want you to break my heart,” Paige says, averting Azzi’s eyes.

“So you broke mine instead?” Azzi whispers and Paige doesn’t have to see the girl to know there are tears in her eyes.

“I didn’t realise it was mine to break,” Paige shrugs brokenly, eyes finally looking at Azzi through wet eyelashes.

They stare at each other in silence, hearts beating erratically, both of them waiting to see who’ll make the first move. Finally, Azzi stands up, and for once second, the fear that she’s about to walk away, that it really was too late, fogs Paige’s mind. But she doesn’t and instead Paige watches mesmerised, as Azzi slowly climbs onto the bed and then onto Paige’s lap. She arranges her legs so she’s straddling Paige’s thighs and her arms fall naturally around Paige’s neck. Immediately, Paige’s hands move to grip Azzi’s waist. They stay there like that for a while, foreheads resting against each other, basking in the warmth of finally being so close.

“I haven’t been with anyone since you,” Azzi confesses finally and Paige lets out a breath she didn’t know she’d been holding, “I thought about it but then I was in her car and all I could think about was you. I think you might have ruined me for anyone else.”

“Good. Because this is it okay? You and me forever,” Paige juts out a pinky and Azzi immediately links it with her own.

“Forever,” Azzi whispers back and it’s not clear who surges forward first but then they’re kissing and it feels like a brand new adventure and coming home all at once. They melt into each other, gripping each other as close as possible, the overwhelming need to be touching everywhere taking over their senses.

“Azzi,” Paige pulls away and almost laughs at the way Azzi pouts, “I need you to say it.”

Azzi’s eyes twinkle with happiness, a spark only Paige can bring out in them. She leans in, the feel of her breath sending shivers of anticipation up Paige’s spine.

“Wanna play ball?” she whispers sensually. Paige lets out an irritated whine and Azzi bursts out laughing, hiding her face in the crook of Paige’s neck.

“Seriously,” Paige groans, pinching Azzi’s waist, but she’s unable to keep the amusement out of her own voice. She hasn’t seen Azzi this happy in so long and if Azzi’s happy, well then everything in Paige’s world is going right. The younger girl’s giggles slowly subside, as her face takes on a more serious expression.

“Paige Madison Bueckers,” she says, cupping Paige’s face, “you’re my best friend, my soulmate and I’m pretty sure you’re the love of my life. And I’m about to be real cliché here so don’t laugh but baby, I want your face to be the first thing I see every morning and the last thing I see every night. I want you at your best but even more at your worst. I want everything as long as it’s with you. Because I am so completely, and utterly and ridiculously in love with you.”

“When did you become such a poet Azzi Fudd,” Paige says, her smile widening when Azzi laughs again, “I’m so completely and utterly and ridiculously in love with you.”

Paige recaptures Azzi’s lips with her own, pulling her girl as close to her as she can. The kiss is sweet and a little salty from the happy tears running down both their faces. It’s innocent and lazy, and still sloppy and passionate. It’s everything.

“If you ever break up with me again, I’ll kill you,” Azzi says, only half joking.

“Wouldn’t dream of it,” Paige promises, “you’re stuck with me for life.”

***

A/N: Congratulations on making it to the end of that! I'm ngl, I love the concept but I don't think I wrote it out particularly well but I had fun writing it so hopefully y'all enjoyed reading it. I promise the next one will be more happy. But for now, I hope this was worth it <3.

#pazzi #azzi fudd #paige bueckers #wcbb

145 notes · View notes

haknom · 2 months

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moot game! ship your moots with an idol and give them a trope!

I’m gna do the mutuals i talk to most and know most about… 😭

@hoonvrs + sunghoon from enha: are we shocked cs i’m not!!!! they would def be like golden retriever x black cat ykwim LIKE saints cigs smau but kinda diff LMAOO their love story would definitely have a silly and happy ending and their goofy climax/downfall would be ummmm OOO they promised to play msp each other but the other forgot 😂😂 LMAOO OR ENEMIES TO LOVERS CS SAINT IS ALWAYSSS FIGHTING ON MSP SO SHE WOULD DEF BEEF W SUNGHOON ON MSP 😭😭

@joomiu + mark from nct: my fave ‘canadians’ (inside joke 😂) they would be cute don’t even. their trope would be friends to lovers for sureee. LMAOO remember when saint was trying to make u a tag nat and went “boy to my shirt” (i still laugh at this) That would def be their way of asking each other out “mark would u be the boy to my shirt” BUE no cs if they had a story abt them i would def read it in one sitting ……..silly x silly It’s perfect.

@weoris + dk from svt: as much as i HATE to say it…. they would match pretty well. their vibes r similar and their energy is also the same. they say the most random stuff yet everyone starts dyinggg of laughter (I’m everyone loud and PROUD) their trope would be rivals to lovers w their friends playing matchmake. Like imagine their friends all decide to hangout without each other knowing they’re both gna be there (?) and when they meet up the two r like Um wtf! def became rivals in the stuco i do Not make the rules 🙏

@soov + kai from txt: are we shocked it’s not jungwon?!?!?!?! anyways they’d be like umm classmates to lovers (?) Like they attend the same orchestra lessons (IS THAT EVEN A THING) and js admire each other from afar. LIKE THOSE POETIC AND FORMAL LOVE STORIES AWW and they’re shy when it comes to each other Ooooo hear me out. rei would def be the one to make the first move tho Idk how she’s so bold (i don’t think she is 😭 LMAOO)

@hanniluvi + jake from enha: now this hear me out. academic rivals to lovers okay Okay? one of them is like “okay guys!!! time for my academic comeback” and is going sooo well until the other shows up and ruins their whole streak LOL like that would acc be cute idc what anyone says. Imagine their love story was a smau…. they’d def argue in variables at some point ☠️☠️☠️☠️ Yes soph i’m starting the very very smart soph agenda TRUSTTT ur number one fan 🙏

@flwoie + hyunjae from tbz: OOOOO they remind me of one of my olddd fics where they were strangers to lovers and fell in love at first sight. walking their dogs (sona do u even have one…) and Maybe sona’s dog (i swear u do Not have a dog) starts going ballistic and runs to hyunjae and his dog making her spill her coffee on his shirt!!!!! she’s apologizing like crazy and he’s js saying it’s okay and stuff and they’re both js chatting trying to come to a mutual agreement of how to deal w the incident while their dogs r js playing together. Then after that. they both go home and text their friends like there is NOOO tmrw abt the person they js saw 😂😂😂 their dogs would def be playing matchmaker LMAOO

@jongsie + riwoo from bnd: i feel like riwoo would be HELLA good at arguing w people and so is rae when it comes to fighting me istggg 😒😒😒 so therefore they’d have a lovers to exes to enemies to lovers type trope DANG THAT WAS LONGGG. they’re bickering and shit and when their friends are like “js kiss already gosh” and yes they get flustered and ‘disgusted’ at the thought when in reality they wouldn’t mind doing that….LMAOO! i think me listening to yours by raiden, chanyeol, leehi, and changmo is doing something…

@yenqa + jay from enha: OKAY! final mutual and i’d say their trope would be strangers to lovers and guitarist x pianist like think abt it they’re both musical geniuses who enjoy to play instruments in the abandoned music classroom at their school . They also had many chances to meet each other but were always one step delayed/ahead of one another sooo they never met Until they did!!! and hit it off immediately ykwim??? idk if that made sense but. they would def be greattt friends at first and the time either of them (leaning more towards jay) fall in love is when they watch the other (yen ofc!!!!) play at their school’s festival cs they look amazing and the tune sounds beautiful!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

(bye i’m gna write all of these. they were acc such good ideas wth TIME TO MAKE THE SYBOPSIS!!!)

#🎧 — k’s asks #🍧 — k’s mutuals #enjoy reading ur love stories guys #all written by haknom 😘

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aloneinthehellfire · 1 year

Text

Chapter 5: Leave A Message

Season One | Season Two | Season Three

[Raining Hellfire: Season Three]

Word Count: 1499 words

Warnings: swearing, mentions of visions, actual visions?, kind of horror at the end idk

[A/N: Can I get a round of applause for not having ridiculously long chapters anymore? Yay me]

also thank you all so so much for the asks and the theories ur sending me, i feel less like a robot publishing a fanfic and more like a person sharing an interest she loves with people so thank you x

Leave A Message

The week is long.

The silver cat feeds when blue meets yellow in the west.

The words were in front of you as you leant on Steve out of laziness while his other shoulder rested against the wall, arms folded.

“They’d make good song lyrics.” You said, Robin smirking at your comment.

“But what does it mean?” Dustin asked, pacing.

“Steve, we gotta shut down the shop.” Robin suddenly said, pointing to the clock.

“Oh shit.”

You all make your way out of the shop, Steve closing it behind you.

“I mean, it’s just…” He says as he slams the metal shutters down and locks it, “it just can’t be right.”

“It’s right.” Robin declares. You believed her.

“Honestly, I think it’s great news.” Dustin declares and you frown at him.

“How is this great news?” Steve shakes his head, standing up. “I mean, so much for being American heroes.”

“You realise that there could still be something going on?” You say and they look at you, “Look, if you were planning something would you just say it for anyone to hear or would you create your own code?”

“You’re right, it’s too specific.” Dustin adds, walking just in front of you with Robin beside him.

“What do you mean, a code?” Steve furrows his brows as he matches your pace.

“Like a super secret spy code.” Dustin explains briefly.

Your best friend just raises his eyebrows. “That’s a total stretch.”

“I don’t know, is it?” Robin asks, “Listen, just for kicks, let’s entertain the possibility that it is a secret Russian transmission. Like Y/n said, they wouldn’t just say it how it is. You think they were gonna say ‘fire the warhead at noon’?”

“Exactly.” You and Dustin agree.

“And my translation is correct. I know that for sure, so… ‘the silver cat feeds.’” Robin starts fidgeting, waving her hands in the air as she pondered, “Why would anyone talk like that?”

“Unless they were trying to mask the meaning of their message.” You nod along, yawning.

Steve looks over to you while Robin and Dustin continue their conspiracy spiral, pulling you to a stop.

“You’ve been yawning a lot lately.”

“What else is new?” You chuckle, eyes drooping as you fight for energy.

He frowns softly, shifting between your eyes. “You need more sleep.”

“No shit, Sherlock.” You looked at him, “You telling me you’ve been sleeping like a baby since last year?”

“No.” He shakes his head, “But I also don’t have evil monsters from another dimension swarming in my head.”

You twist your face, nodding. “Yep, yep. That’s a good point. I bet all that goes through your head is shampoo and ridiculous little tunes.”

Steve laughs in surprise, “Tunes?”

“Yeah. Like I imagine you just have some random songs in your head, no lyrics, just…” You pick the first melody that comes to mind and start humming it.

Steve stops, grabbing your shoulder as his eyes widen. “That tune.”

“Okay, there’s no way I could have guessed that perfectly.”

“No. The music!” He exclaims, spinning around and running to the carousel horse.

You look around dumbfounded, meeting Robin’s confused gaze from a few steps ahead of you.

“Hey, Steve?” She calls out as Steve stares at the horse, pulling out his wallet. “What are you doing?”

“Uh, it’s a quarter. I need-” He looks to you, “Do you have a quarter?”

“Is now really the time to ride a children’s horse?” You raise your brows but he just holds his hand out to you.

“I know you have a quarter, you bought your ice cream today and I specifically remember giving you a quarter in your change.”

“Jeez, fine.” You pull out change from your back pocket, sorting through the coins until you found what he wanted. “Where was this memory when you owed me money for your damn hairspray?”

You held up the quarter and he quickly took it from your hand, slotting it into the machine as the others crowded around you.

The horse starts to move, a small melody playing. You shake your head at first until you really listened, eyes widening. No way.

You step back, shaking your head for a whole new reason. You glance back at where you sat at the fountain, the memory replaying.

“You need help getting up, little Stevie?” Robin joked and Dustin laughed but Steve just shushed her.

“Would you two just shut up and listen?”

“Holy shit.” Dustin realises, crouching down beside Steve. “The music.”

He played the tape and sure enough, the music matched perfectly.

“This code, it… didn’t come from Russia.” Steve says, looking back at the group, “It came from here.”

“Like, someone working here?” Robin asked and Dustin glanced around as if they would suddenly appear.

“The janitor.” You break the silence and they stare at you, confused. “I saw them.”

“The Russian?” Dustin scrambled to his feet. “Who is he?”

“I- I didn’t see his face.” You shake your head. “But he was stood right here. I was sat there. And he had a radio on him, I just- I guess I didn’t think any of it at the time. But he walked away, grabbed his cleaning supplies. Whoever they are, they’re operating inside the mall.”

“But where?” Robin asked what you were all wondering.

Maybe you weren’t so paranoid after all.

The Scoops Troop, named by Dustin himself despite the protests, decided to call it a night and continue working on the conspiracy tomorrow. You believed there was probably something to it and hell, if you weren’t having terrifying visions every other day, you’d be more than happy to have something to do. But you really hoped they didn’t expect you to help them from now on. You knew Billy needed your help, urgently.

You get home to see Max and El laughing together on your porch, jumping to their feet when you approach.

“I thought I gave you a spare key?” You frown at Max and she shrugs.

“I lost it.” She clocks your expression, “Hey, I was trying to hide it from Billy and I hid it a little too well.”

El giggles as you open the front door, leading them to your room.

“Okay, you guys dump your stuff here and go pick out a movie to watch.” You smile as they happily start setting their stuff down, running through the house to the living room.

You walk to the kitchen, rooting through the fridge for any food. You notice a blinking light from the corner of your eye before you realised it was the voicemail machine your uncle had been able to afford after expensive work on a client’s car. You walk over, press the button, and continue your search, pulling out various items.

The machine beeps, a feminine voice talking to you.

“Hey, Y/n. It’s Heather. Sorry to bother you but you asked me to let you know if I think Billy’s getting worse?”

You dump the stuff on the counter, lunging over to the machine box.

“I thought I heard crying from the showers earlier and he’s the only other one working today. He’s been in there a real long time now.”

A distant yell echoed through the machine and you freeze.

“Wait. Oh my god, he’s screaming, what do I do? Do I call an ambulance?”

“Yes!” You immediately exclaim, praying she called for help.

“Actually I’m gonna go check on him.” You furiously shake your head as if Heather was right in front you, “Okay, I’ll call back later and let you know what’s going on. See you tomorrow.”

And just like that, she hung up the phone, the machine echoing in your mind. You wait for the next message, but nothing came.

“Shit.”

You back away from the machine, trying to rationalise everything. It was fine, right? Maybe she just forgot to call back. You’ll see her tomorrow.

You knew deep down that wasn’t true.

You walk back over to the phone, scrambling through a box of phone numbers you had scribbled down onto notes over the past few years before finding Heather’s name. You grab the paper, turn back to the phone and see the light begin to blink again.

Frowning, you set the paper down on the counter and stare for a moment. You reach out towards it, pressing the button. The familiar beep sounded before there was complete static. You were about to hang up when you thought you heard a gasp.

Leant towards to the machine to hear better, you held your breath as you waited for another sound.

Heavy breathing, a woman. Whimpers.

A scream.

You jump back from the machine, hitting your side on the counter with such force you were sure it was gonna bruise. You run back and try to replay the message, but all that replayed was Heather’s phone call. You skipped it, but nothing else came.

A bone-chilling fear struck your mind; something bad happened to Heather.

Chapter 6: A Yellow Whistle ->

taglist: @gnnnne / @beepisbeep / @paintballkid711/ @eddiesbirdie/ @livasaurasrex/ @darktimelegends / @jackierose902109 / @mvrylee / @chervbs/ @eternallyvenus / @nervouscatsuit / @f1nn-wolfhard / @hereiamhereigo

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jellysweets · 2 years

Text

“you can’t have him! thoma is mine!”

thoma x gn!reader they/them pronouns used

genre(s) : fluff to angst to fluff, romantic fluff

warnings: reader has a mental breakdown. everything is in lowercase, probably some improper grammar. reader has hinted at thick thighs bc i do and uhh yeah so yeah sorry😭 btw some swearing also maybe ooc idk.. intended ayamiya!!

synopsis: y/n helps out around the kamisato estate occasionally, and ayaka asks them if they’d like their position to be official art become a true maid to the kamisato clan.

wc: 2.1k

kat’s ramble: FIRST POST!! yipee! so happy to finally start writing fics!! sorry if this is kinda bad ..😭 i personally don’t like it so.. btw h/c means hair color & h/l means hair length if u saw that and didn’t understand ! also one scene is inspired by horimiya in that scene between hori & remi 🤭🤭 horimiya fans ifykyk xx

as you were watering the flowers that decorate the kamisato estate, a familiar face approached you with her usual sweet smile.

“ah, lady ayaka, good morning.” you greet. ayaka sighs softly, “y/n, i told you to not greet me with such formality,” she smiles. “i appreciate the kindness, but you’re no stranger to me, nor the kamisato clan. you’re well acquainted with most in the kamisato family, so there’s no need to be so formal.”

“i know, i know,” you chuckle. “i just feel it’s more respectful to address you with more formality. though, i do apologize. i know you’d like to get a breather and be treated like an ordinary pedestrian, so i’ll make sure to call you plain ‘ayaka.’” you smile.

her eyes widen for a second, “oh! im here to ask you something on behalf of my brother because he was far too busy to find time to speak with you,” she places a hand on her chest. “i know it’s a lot to ask of you, but the kamisato clan is in need of a bit more assistance..”

you drop your watering can, “are you asking if i’d like to be a maid?” you ask softly in surprise. “well, i.. yes. i am.. i hope that’s not too much for you to handle, we would love to have you as an additional maid. lately, thoma has been exhausting himself.” your eyes widen at his name.

thoma.. someone you’ve been in love with for so long. you want to spend every second of every day with him. you feel at your best around him, and he opens someone inside of you that you didn’t know was there. and to think you might get to work aside him? uhh hell yeah, you’re accepting her offer.

“i would be happy to work for the clan.” you state with a warm smile. ayaka hums in glee, “thank you so much! i appreciate everything you’ve done for us already. and when you start helping out thoma, please don’t exhaust yourself as well. you’re a dear friend to the kamisato clan and i don’t want you to forget to take care of yourself because we can’t take of everything on our own.”

“i promise to take care of myself alongside working, i don’t want to upset you by overworking myself to the brim of exhaustion,” you place a hand on your heart. “and i’ll make sure to take good care of you and your brother.”

ayaka smiles, “please show up around 9am tomorrow and thoma will take good care of your training.” she smiles and you nod.

“lady ayaka!”, a voice yells from a distance away, you and ayaka look at the way it the voice came from. “ah, im apologize, y/n! i have to go now, see you soon!” she waves and runs off into the distance.

you blush a little, working with thoma everyday?, you think

you pick up your watering can and continue to water the flowers with a warm smile.

you showed up 2 hours early in hopes to spend some time with thoma before you start working, you cheeky little one!!

you sat on one of the steps of the kamisato estate and waited for thoma to arrive. maybe 5 minutes later, a chipper man with high energy walks up to you while humming. seeing him makes you feel so ecstatic and warm. “y/n!” thoma smiles.

aaaaaaaa he’s so cute!! you literally roll on the floor inside of your head. he’s a human golden retriever and u just wanna cuddle him for the rest of time. “you’re pretty early, ayaka told you to come at 9, right?” thoma tilts his head slightly in curiosity. “yes.. but i.. showed up early in hopes to spend time with you…” you admit sheepishly.

thoma blushes a little be quickly shakes it off with a smile. “i’d love to spend time with you, y/n! and i already can’t wait to start working with you. you could come along to give the animals the sweaters i made them !”

you tilted your head and smiled and the light wind blew your [h/l] + [h/c] hair and he thought you were oh so attractive/stunning/gorgeous (ur pick, whatever term u find urself most comfortable with!)

he blushes and tries to hide it with the back of his hand like some shojo male lead in anime (yoo shojo fan alert woops)

“ah- w-well we should get going before we don’t have enough time,” he stumbles on his words. “stay right there, i have to get them.” he runs off into the estate. he enters a room, hunches over, and puts his hands on his thighs, huffing and puffing. “crap.. they’re so cute..” he stands up and regulates his posture, his heart still beating 100 miles per second.

he shakes his head and grabs the sweaters he hand knit in his spare time. he looks down and smiles at them. exiting the room and returning to the spot where he left you. waving at you when he approaches you.

“okay, lets head out!” you nod and walk with him to the usual spot where you give the cats treats and try to befriend that one feisty dog that refuses to open up to you, but you’ll never give up. thoma always laughs at your attempt to befriend the pup and then has to take care of your injury when he bites you and makes your hand bleed.

you arrive to the spot shaded by the tree and you sit down on your knees. thoma looks over and sees your thighs. he darts his eyes somewhere else and he blushes a little, god he just wants to rest his head on your thighs and take a nap.

the cat walks up to you and sits in your lap, “ah- it’s not easy to get this on you in this position.. mm.. there you go!” you pick up the cat after putting the kitten sweater on her, “you look so cute in this!” “mew!” you let out a big smile.

he hands you one of the hand knit sweaters, “wanna put this one on her ?” “of course!” you began calling to one of the cats softly and putting out your hand.

“it seems she likes it,” thoma smiles at you. “and look, he looks dashing in this, does he not?” thoma gestures to the dog sitting on his lap in the red sweater. “aww, he does!!” you smile.

time seems to fly as you put the sweaters on and have fun with thoma. “aah, shit! it’s 8:50!” you groan. “aww, we ‘outta head back then,” he frowns. “you need help up?” he puts out his hand to help you up. you reach out your hand and take his in yours.

you head back to the estate, and he never lets go of your hand. he didn’t even notice, but you did and you were blushing the whole way back.

you arrive at the estate and thoma let’s go of your hand, still not addressing it.

“alrighty! ready to get to work?” thoma asks. “yeah!” you respond enthusiastically. thoma smiles at you, and thoughts are racing in his head about how excited he is to begin working with you.

your first week of work is done and over with, and you’re exhausted. you wake up in your home in inazuma city, and you hear a knock on your door. “mm..” you groan as you walk to the door.

you open it and see a familiar face. “hi, y/n!” ayaka greets with a smile. “la-… ayaka.. good morning, i didn’t expect you to come visit.” you say groggily, wiping your eyes.

“im terribly sorry for showing up out of the blue, and it seems you’ve just woken up. i came to invite you over to the estate today, i’d like to hang out.. and.. i also need some advice.” she looks at the floor nervously. “ah, okay! i just need to get ready, i’ll be over soon.”

ayaka leaves with a wave, and you close the door. you open your closet and pick out an outfit. you brush out your [h/l] hair, and head out to the estate.

you knock on the door to the estate and ayaka greets you with a smile, per usual. “y/n, so glad you’re here,” she smiles. you nod. you hide your hands behind your back so she doesn’t see how hard they’re shaking. what “advice” did she need? she doesn’t like thoma.. does she? no, that’d be ridiculous. but.. what if she does? thoma would for sure like her more than you.

she’s rich but humble, she’s beautiful. she’s one of the kindest people in inazuma. you’re just.. you. she has so much more than you, he could never want you. and that’s the harsh reality you’ve forced yourself to face. “ah, come in!” she steps away from the doorway and gestures that you come in with her arm.

you walk in with a smile and feel refreshed. ayaka doesn’t know about your feelings for thoma, she doesn’t have any ill intents if this is about thoma. you manage to calm yourself down with a deep breath. you take a seat on her futon and she sits down beside you.

“so, y/n.. ive thought about asking thoma to the festival, and i need you to help me pick my outfit..” ayaka says looking straight down at the floor, you can see her hands shaking slightly.

your heart drops when you hear his name. “thoma?..” ayaka nods, and she stands up. she picks up three gorgeous kimonos custom made by ogura mio, “im not sure what to wear, and i haven’t even asked him yet! ahh, please help, y/n..” ayaka sighs.

“i’m sorry, but i can’t let you have him,” you mumble under your breath. “im sorry, i didn’t hear you. can you repeat that?” ayaka says. “you can’t have him! thoma is mine!”

“w-wha?” ayaka’s eyes widen. “i.. im so sorry..!” you yell as you run out of her room. why would you say that? thoma doesn’t belong to anyone. he’s not yours, he’s not ayaka’s, he’s not anybody’s. “y/n!” you hear ayaka yell from the distance.

you don’t stop running, you just keep going to your home. the tears keep streaming down your face. you open the door to your home and run to your room.

you fall to the floor. the thoughts start rushing in.

he’ll never want you, thoma isn’t yours. he’ll never be yours. you can’t give him anything. you can’t provide him anything. you’re an idiot.

you fall to your knees, “stop! please, please. i don’t want to hear this. don’t make me face the truth..” you sob as you grip your hair with wide eyes. you pass out on the floor. you’ll have to sort out everything with ayaka the next day.

you wake up to ayaka sitting on her knees next to your futon that she probably laid you on when she saw your previously unconscious body. “..ayaka?”.. you groan as you sit up. “y/n!!” ayaka hugs you suddenly. “ayaka.. im so sorry..” a tear falls from your eye as you hug her back.

“it’s okay,” she says as she lets go of you and smiles. “there’s someone here who wants to talk to you.” she winks. you look to your left and there sits thoma. ayaka walks out of the room to give you some privacy.

“y/n..” your eyes widen, “thoma.. im sorry. i should’ve never said that, you’re not-..” thoma cuts you off. “i love you,” his face flushes red due to his sudden confession. “..so much. i want to be yours.” he smiles at you. “wha..-“ he cuts you off again and kisses you. his lips are really soft, he’s so gentle, caring. making sure not to hurt you.

he releases of your lips and smiles at you again. “thoma.. i love you too.. can you pinch me?” “wha.. no! i promise this is real, there’s no need for that, y/n haha!” his laugh is so cute omlqlNaAhaaaHAee you hear a slight clap sound outside of your bedroom door

you stand up and open your bedroom door, revealing two embarrassed inazuman girls looking back at you, whom are laughing and you are just confused. “sooo, y/n.. ayaka doesn’t actually like thoma!!” yoimiya reveals.

“i asked yoimiya to the festival.. ive known you like thoma for so long. you really didn’t hide it that well, y/n..” ayaka laughs.

“agh!” you gawk, putting a hand on your heart and pretending to be offended. thoma walks up and embraces you from behind, resting his head in the crook of your neck as he chuckles.

“it seems my plan worked!!” yoimiya puts her hands on her hips with a big grin. the four of you laugh and you can only think..

thoma really is mine…

— reblogs are appreciated ! —

#thoma fluff #genshin thoma #thoma angst #genshin fluff #thoma x reader #genshin angst

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