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7-deadly-cats · 1 month ago

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killing me softly | 16

K M S M A S T E R L I S T | <- P R E V I O U S | N E X T ->

✿ G E N R E ✿ she fell first, he fell harder | slice of life | drama

✿ P A I R I N G ✿ s1!rafe cameron x overthinking!reader (f)

✿ C O N T E N T W A R N I N G ✿ swearing, suggestive language & themes, rafe ovulating, angsty and overthinking reader, some verbal tension, some very long-ass conversation starting in the second half, reader having some intense episode of spiraling and need for reassurance, rafe being very dramatic at the end aka him jumping to the craziest conclusion known to man aka he's actually going insane (monologue only), also rafe being possessive and if you look closely also some unresolved trauma of abandonment, some hints at past platonic kiara x rafe

✿ S U M M A R Y O F L A S T P A R T ✿ waking up with a hangover, the first thing you saw when opening your phone was the drunk texts you’d sent to rafe after getting home last night. the two of you had exchanged blurry selfies, and rafe had made some very suggestive comments. cringing at yourself, you texted cara to meet up later. after your shower, you found rafe in the living room bc he wanted bring you your forgotten bag. his bruise getting looked at by your dad (rafe later claimed he told your dad the bruise was an accident with a golf club). your mom invited rafe for lunch and they seemed to like him. afterward, you and rafe are left alone with him suggesting to continue your project. you being too hungover declined. rafe decided to drag you outside so you could properly sober up. in his car, rafe gave you his phone to shut kelce's spamming up. however, opening the chat, an upper body pic of kelce greeted you. after replying to kelce in rafe's name, you got a little too curious scrolling through the chat and finding thirst trap of rafe (the boys seemingly update each other with their gym progress). rafe caught you staring but he shrugged it off with a cocky remark. you finally arrived at the health store rafe claimed had magical anti-hangover smoothies. and somewhere between the car ride and the smoothies, you started to get the feeling that maybe, just maybe, rafe actually liked you more than you originally thought.

✿ W O R D C O U N T ✿ 10.4k+ (reader's fault)

✿ A / N ✿ getting to add some barry action into KMS? don't mind if i do hihihii;; also literally so anxious about this part (i know i say this with every new chapter help) bc the second half took me a while to figure out or rather i had a hard time debating how i wanted their convo to go AND which pov i wanted it to be in and ngl i actually had to keep my own patience in check with reader 🤣 and well, i’m always scared some stuff might feel forced or rushed, especially bc i’m aiming for a natural development BUT ANYWAY, it is what it is and i hope you guys enjoy. as always, lmk what you think <3

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"That looks like the stuff that came out of me this morning," you said with scrunched-up brows as you crouched in front of the smoothies' fridge at Bulk & Bloom (shit, yeah, that was the actual shitty-ass name, and no, Kelce was not a co-founder).

And somehow, seeing you in that position there beside him, lips slightly parted in a way that could be viewed suggestive in a different setting, Rafe had no fucking clue why, but the sight did something to him. Suddenly, there was an urgent need to think of wrinkly old grandmas and dead puppies.

Rafe let out a chuckle. "Which end?"

You blinked at him, deadpan. “Your sense of humor is horrible.”

Fucking hell. And now you were looking up at him with that bratty gaze. Rafe tried to think about literally anything other than how badly he wanted to—

Fuck, what.

"Shit, still better than expressing my feelings through some fucked-up images that look like they came straight out of a crackhead’s brain," he shot back with a crooked smile.

Because yeah, your weird-ass reaction pictures? Only Wheezie seemed to understand what the hell those pictures were supposed to mean, or how to use them (not that he'd shown them to anyone else anyway). And Rafe still questioned his own sanity for actually asking his little sister to explain them to him.

Not because he cared, of course. He just didn’t want you to think he was beneath you when it came to that crap.

You turned your gaze back to the line-up of smoothies. "Should be easy enough for you to understand, considering you and the crackhead share similar hobbies."

Oh, how badly Rafe wanted to shut you up and teach you some respect in a way that made his blood rush faster and adrenaline shoot higher.

He had skipped the fucking coke this morning on purpose, and he was still having these insane thoughts. Worsening by the minute.

"Real funny," he muttered.

You chuckled. "Who says I’m joking?"

Rafe scoffed. You were definitely doing this on purpose—acting all bratty, just to get a rise out of him. And he seriously questioned how the fuck you had the confidence to act like that when just earlier in his car, you’d been a stuttering, awkward mess after he'd caught you staring at his post-gym pic like you’d just pulled a legendary FIFA card.

“Feeling bold now, huh?” he said. “Funny, considering you were damn near drooling on my phone a few minutes ago.”

And the little side-eye you threw him? Brows furrowed, lips pressed together? Rafe drank that shit up like ice-cold water.

He raised his eyebrows in anticipation as you looked at him. Yeah, how were you gonna talk your way out of that one? With another I-I didn’t mean to, sorry, I just—

"I'm not ashamed to admit that Kelce has a nice build."

what.

Rafe didn’t even feel his smile drop or his brows furrow because the sudden rush of anger hit so fast, it short-circuited everything else.

Like, what the fuck.

Obviously, he hadn’t been talking about fucking Kelce. It had been his pic. Him your nosy little ass had been staring at.

Shit. No fucking way.

Had he been right to suspect something during that project session at Kelce’s? Did you actually have a thing for that fucker? He couldn’t wrap his head around it. Couldn’t fucking understand how—

You little shit.

The second that sly smile crept onto your lips, the tension in Rafe’s jaw eased.

Shit, how badly he wanted to shut your mouth. And you still crouching next to him only fueled the flashing images in his head.

"Hilarious," Rafe muttered with a scowl, gesturing toward the fridge. "Now have you finally picked one? They all taste the fucking same anyway."

And you had the audacity to chuckle in response.

God, you were eating away at Rafe’s last nerve, which somehow just worsened the pressure building in his chest. And the crazy part? It was the kind of pressure he usually only got rid of when he was knee-deep in some random girl.

And that thought triggered more images. Of you. Sounds you’d make. The way you’d get all flustered and—

Fuck this shit.

No way he needed to get off that badly that you ended up being the one his brain fixated on.

It was just pent-up tension. Yeah, that was it. Just because he hadn’t gotten the chance to take care of it last night—thanks to fucking Topper crashing in the guest room with him—and you just happened to be the nearest girl around for his brain to throw into those kinds of scenarios.

It’s fine, he told himself. Gonna take care of that shit later at home.

"Well, you claimed one of them helps with hangovers," you said, eyeing him with an amused smile. "How am I supposed to know which one to pick when they're called..." You leaned forward (Rafe took that as a green light to check out your ass) and squinted at the name tags on the dumbass smoothies. "Maxx Mass Mango, Triceps Tropic Thunder, or," you let out an embarrassed laugh, "The Triple Load."

Rafe let out a low chuckle because the way you'd said it—so innocent, so awkward—was fucking priceless. You getting flustered over anything even remotely suggestive? Stupidly hilarious.

"I think one load will be enough for you today," he said with a lopsided grin, relishing the way you immediately looked away with a frown, all awkward again. Then he reached into the fridge for the Thirst Aid bottle and held it out to you. "Now let’s get the fuck out of here before the first wave of lunchtime joggers comes crashing in."

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“Wait here. I’ll be right back.” Rafe unbuckled his seatbelt, grabbed his wallet from the center console, and reached for a backpack in the back seat.

Okay. Three funny things: One, he had clearly lied to you earlier at home because this definitely meant he was about to do something sketchy. Two, you still hadn’t recovered from those ridiculously named smoothies. And three… guess where you were?

Barry’s pawn shop.

Like yeah, you'd kinda figured he and Rafe knew each other with Rafe selling fucking coke to his classmates. And sure, Barry probably wasn’t the only plug in the Cut but still, funny coincidence that it was him.

Aka the same guy Cara got her weed from.

Aka the guy she lowkey tried setting you up with since you'd first met him.

Barry was chill and cool, and okay, objectively speaking, he had a pretty face if you ignored the tangled hair and commitment-issues beard. And yeah, okay, you did like him, but in a completely platonic way.

More like two bros. Except for that one very steamy dream you'd had about him once that we’re never, ever talking about again from this point on.

Okayyyyy, hahaha, moving on.

But since you were already here, you kinda wanted to say hi.

"The fuck are you doing?" Rafe snapped as he saw you unbuckle your seatbelt just as he was about to get out of the car.

You eyed him dryly. "Getting out?"

"No. I told you to wait here." Oh, this dude was DEFINITELY picking up drugs with that sudden change in tone.

"Yeah, I have ears," you said with a scoff, slinging your bag over your shoulder and reaching for the car's door.

Rafe’s jaw clenched. "I’m fucking serious. Stay here."

You chuckled at how ridiculous he sounded, your gaze flicking to the backpack on his lap. "Why? Because you’re about to do some sketchy shit in there?"

"Because I don’t need some girl clinging to my ass everywhere I go," he snapped.

Braincells = 0.

You blinked. "Correct me if I'm wrong but weren't you the one asking me to come along?"

He looked so dumb with his lips pressed tight, brows drawn, and hugging his backpack like a pissed-off schoolboy running out of patience.

Eyeing you with an irritated smile, he said, “You don’t actually think—”

“Okay, no,” you cut him off, body shifting back toward him. “Which part of what I've said offended you now?”

Rafe’s brows twitched. His brain was probably running a marathon trying to figure out why he was actually pissed off.

“I don’t have the fucking patience to argue right now,” he muttered, voice strained. “Just fucking stay here. I’ll be back in five minutes, okay?”

Considering his usual reactions, that was almost a polite reassurance.

“Well, maybe I’ve got business in there too,” you said, brows raised.

Oh, this idiot found that hilarious. His face lit up like a kid watching a clown trip over its own shoes. “Yeah, nah, I doubt that.”

You held his gaze without saying a word. He didn’t want a discussion? Fine. Let him stew in the awkward silence and realize how dumb he was acting.

National Geographic should honestly study this dude because the silent treatment riled him up more than anything else, and you were this close to snapping a photo of his dumb little expression.

He ran a hand over his face and nodded dramatically. “Fine, then come along, for fuck’s sake. Don’t piss me off. But don’t start whining if some crackhead in there gives you a dirty look.”

You pressed your lips together, trying to suppress a smile. He sounded mad, but: “So you were trying to keep me away from shady people. How heroic."

“If it helps the voices in your head,” he muttered, the most dramatic scowl painted across his face. “Now get your ass moving, don't wanna get stabbed out here.”

“I’ll be damned,” Barry said with a lazy grin as you and Rafe stepped into the little shop. “Country Club and Little Alley Cat showing up together? What is it—my birthday?”

You chuckled, heart skipping a beat for… WHATEVER REASON. OKAY, MOVING ON.

The shop was completely empty, aside from grumpy Larna who sat in the back room behind a desk, glancing up with a death glare before going back to whatever she was doing.

Fucking dumbass Rafe just blinked, flabbergasted and visibly disoriented. Apparently, he hadn’t expected you to know his plug, and for some reason, that made the whole thing feel like home turf.

“You two fucking know each other?” he asked, face scrunched like he’d just bitten into a lemon.

Barry chuckled, leaning on the counter. “You can bet your spoiled little ass on it.” Then he turned to you with a smirk. “And I see Little Kitty has finally gotten herself a guard dog.” He nodded toward Rafe. “Hoping you got him checked for rabies with that temper of his.”

Why did everyone just assume you and Rafe had something going on? You two weren’t exactly radiating happy couple energy. Then again, Rafe wasn’t known for having female friends (which you also weren't), so... yeah.

Rafe tilted his head toward you, ignoring Barry completely. “How the fuck do you know this fucker?”

You had to bite your lip not to smirk at the way he immediately got so worked up.

“Easy, pretty boy,” Barry cut in before you could even respond, clearly amused. “You better be nice to that lady or I’ll beat your rich ass.” He tapped his own cheek. “That bruise of yours? Don’t wanna end up with a matching one on the other side.”

OH. MY. GOD.

The butterflies in your stomach that usually went berserk for Rafe? Yeah, a few of them were dancing for Barry now. Because Dealer Barry stepping up for you in front of Dumbass Rafe? That was… kinda sweet, not gonna lie.

Rafe furrowed his brows, clutching the strap of his backpack like a schoolboy on his first day, about to throw a tantrum because he didn’t wanna go.

He squinted at you. “So what—you're secretly a fucking crackhead now, or what am I supposed to take from this?”

Seriously. Did this guy ever think before he spoke? Like, he literally dealt coke and snorted it himself, but you’re the crazy one?

At this point, you should question your own sanity for even crushing on this guy.

But the funny part wasn’t how hypocritical he was being, no, it was the fact that he chose to go after you instead of Barry despite him basically threatening Rafe. And there was no way Rafe would let a chance pass to put another guy in his place.

Which made the whole thing even more entertaining because, for once, he clearly didn’t have the upper hand. Usually, he carried this presence, this aura, that screamed “look at me wrong and I’ll beat your ass.”

But here? He seemed small.

Like a hyena baring its teeth at a lion.

Rafe Cameron, proud Kook and official Pogue-hater, actually keeping his mouth shut in front of little pawn shop owner Barry? Fucking hilarious.

“No. Sometimes I'm just tagging along when Cara's picking up her weed,” you said amused, watching the gears in Rafe’s brain grind themselves into dust.

“Miss Fancy Boots actually dropped by earlier,” Barry said. “Had her little mutt with her too.” He made a cupping motion in front of his chest, smiling all big. “Top barely holding on for dear life. Wouldn’t even tell me which backwood shack she was visiting.”

Oh, she was really trying to bag JJ Maybank this time. Best of luck, bestie.

You chuckled, but Rafe beat you to a response with a scowl, stepping forward and dropping his backpack on the counter. “Okay, fuck this. I’m not here to fucking chit-chat.”

Barry gave him a look, something sharp flashing in his eyes, but then he just laughed and peeked into the backpack. “Keep running that mouth and I’ll tell Lil’ Alley Cat who was whining on my couch just a few days ago.” He pushed the backpack back toward Rafe and nodded to the right. “Now move your ass to Larna. She's gonna take care of the rest.”

Rafe smiled bitterly, shaking his head. “Nah, that's not what—”

“I’m in a good mood today, Country Club,” Barry cut in, tapping the counter. “Don’t make me introduce you to the girl hiding under here.”

And somehow… you really didn’t think he was joking and you hoped Rafe knew how to behave.

Thankfully, he did.

With a scoff, he grabbed the backpack, threw you an unreadable look, and disappeared into the backroom where grumpy Larna was waiting.

"So, you and Country Club, huh?" Barry stepped around the counter, leaning against it with a lazy smile on his face. "Didn’t think you’d fall for a Kook prince."

After seeing his idiot side, I hadn’t thought so either.

You smiled sheepishly and adjusted the strap of your bag. “He’s not—I mean, there’s nothing going on between us.”

Barry let out an amused chuckle. “Was already wondering how he managed to get you to stick around, ‘cause that stupid boy?” He pointed his thumb toward the backroom. “Nothing but daddy issues and anger problems. Ain’t worth one look from an Alley Cat.”

Shit, that stupid nickname? Only Barry could make it sound right.

“Yeah, he’s an idiot,” you said with a soft smile, sounding like a widow reminiscing about her dead husband. “But he’s actually kinda fun to be around once you figure out how to deal with him.”

Were you seriously defending Rafe’s stupidity right now?

Barry raised his brows, eyes lighting up with the biggest grin. “Cat’s all smiley and dreamy over a boy. Didn’t think I’d see the day.”

“What? No, I just—” Heat crept up your neck and you shook your head with an embarrassed smile. “We were paired for a school project. That’s how I got to know him better.”

“Ain't seeing you doing school work right now,” Barry replied, his grin widening. “Must be serious if he’s letting you tag along to this stuff here.”

I actually annoyed him so much he just gave in.

You shook your head again, feeling like you were digging your grave deeper with every word. “No, I’m serious. This is just—”

“I’m just messing with you, Lil Kitty Cat. No need to puff your tail,” Barry said, raising his hands with a lazy chuckle. “But you should watch out. Wouldn’t call that fancy-looking boy my friend, but I know his type well enough to say—if he’s keeping you around, there’s a reason.” His tone shifted ever so slightly. “Don’t want my Alley Cat getting bitten by some spoiled hound dog.”

You eyed Barry quietly for a moment. Him warning you about Rafe stirred something strange in your gut, and part of you knew better than to ignore it.

But right now, you were too scared to question it, so all you did was offer a soft smile. “He’s more of a wired Doberman anyway. Big attitude, but pull the leash once and he gets all dramatic.”

To your surprise, Barry didn’t laugh. “A dog’s a dog. They bite if you’re not careful. And for a sweet kitty like you? That shit can turn bad real fast.” He nodded toward the backroom. “And Dobermans? You don’t wanna pull their leash too hard. Loyal and shit until they start thinking they own you. Then it ain’t cute no more. Had an uncle—couldn’t be around people without his mutt flipping out. Damn thing almost took my hand off once."

Your brows furrowed in irritation. It had been funny when Cara had joked about Rafe being possessive and jealous and all, but hearing Barry say it like a genuine warning... yeah, that hit differently.

And suddenly, Rafe’s weird behavior since yesterday started making sense.

Him getting mad when Topper asked you to come along. Him nearly beating the crap out of Rob for no reason. Him now suddenly wanting to spend time with you, being all flirty and suggestive and—oh god, please no.

Maybe this wasn’t about him liking you. Maybe he just hated the idea of someone else playing with a toy he’d throw away the moment he got bored, found another, or worse, shredded it to pieces. And until then, he'd bark at anyone reaching out for it.

The smoothie you'd drank earlier threatened to come back up. You didn’t want to be someone's toy.

“Aww, no. Didn’t mean to wipe that smile off your face, Kitty Cat,” Barry said, his lazy smile returning. “I’m just saying—be careful around a boy like that. Though, I trust you’ll know when to pull your claws out.” He knocked on the counter and chuckled. “Otherwise, just say the word, and I’ll introduce his fancy ass to my girl.”

Barry probably meant well, but your brain had already soaked up his words like a sponge, throwing them into a spiral, dragging them into the most anxious corners of your mind.

Still, you managed a smile. “No worries, Barry. I don’t think he even—”

You didn’t dare finish that sentence as Rafe came out of the backroom, a deep scowl on his face. He didn’t even look at you as he passed between you and Barry, only muttering, “Let’s go.”

“Nah, nah, nah, Country Club,” Barry said, raising his brows and pushing off the counter with a grin. “We ain’t done yet.”

Rafe stopped, turning back with a glare that practically screamed he was done with everyone. He towered over Barry, but somehow still looked small. “I got your shit. What fucking else do you wanna piss me off with?”

Barry ignored him, smiling softly at you. “Was nice seeing you again, Alley Cat. Don’t go running off too far.” He nodded toward the door. “Now get those little paws outta here, I still got some business with this boy.”

An uneasy feeling spread in your stomach, but you knew better than to argue, so you just smiled with a nod. “Yeah, see you around, Barry,” you said, trying to ignore Rafe’s burning stare on you.

You passed him quietly, trying to suppress the sudden thoughts threatening to tear open a pit you thought you’d buried not even a few days ago.

And while you’d entered Barry’s little pawn shop with a smile and warmth in your chest, you left it now with uncertainty in your eyes and a deep heavy feeling in your gut.

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“Okay, what the fuck is going on between you and Barry?” Rafe asked after the two of you had gotten back into the car.

And the reason for that question? Such a funny fucking story. And it started with you even knowing this fucker in the first place. You two apparently getting along—and oh, fun fact—apparently getting along really well, because guess what? Barry hadn’t kept Rafe in the shop to talk business. Oh no, he hadn’t just talked.

He had fucking threatened him.

Said stupid shit like he’d show Rafe how people in the Cut handled things when no one was looking if Rafe didn’t behave. If he dared to hurt or play with you or whatever fucking else Barry had preached like some back-alley saint.

Rafe couldn’t even wrap his head around what that fucking Pogue thought he was doing. Like if Rafe actually wanted to, he could send every cop in town straight to Barry’s crusty little pawn shop and have him write his bullshit threats on the damn cell wall.

Fuck. Like seriously, what the hell was that shit?!

You just shook your head, a weird smile on your lips that didn’t even come close to your eyes. “What? Nothing. Like I said, he’s Cara’s dealer. That’s how I got to know him.”

And now you had the audacity to lie straight to Rafe’s face in his car? Nah.

“He literally threatened to blow my brains out if I looked at you the wrong way,” Rafe said, tapping his temple with a confused laugh. “Like—what kind of crazy-ass psycho bullshit is that? And that weird-ass nickname? No way in hell he isn't your fucking boyfriend or some shit.”

The idea that you belonged to someone—Barry, of all people? That messed with Rafe’s head in ways he couldn’t even begin to explain. It filled him with such rage and confusion, he was so close to grabbing that damn backpack on the backseat, taking out a bundle of coke that stupid grandma had handed him, and snorting a line right off his Mercedes' hood.

But he was so thrown off by your sudden change of demeanor, your whole vibe completely off since Rafe had come back from the shop—strange, distant, almost... bitter—that he decided he'd rather demand some fucking answers.

And when you just smiled weakly instead of snapping back like usual, pushing his buttons, he knew something was up.

“No, that’s just how he is,” you said while buckling your seatbelt, the weird tone in your voice not sounding like you at all. “He only means well.”

Rafe blinked at you, his chest tightening as your eyes finally met his, but something was missing.

“Okay, what the fuck is going on?” he asked, his voice sharper than he meant it to be.

Your brows twitched, and there was a flicker in your gaze he couldn’t place. Again, that strange smile that didn’t fit your face. “What? Nothing,” you replied, shaking your head slightly.

Just nothing. Normally you’d say some shit like, ‘Why are you getting all worked up, I don’t owe you any explanation, blah blah’—but this? It confused Rafe. And it pissed him off that he couldn’t figure it out.

“Barry said some shit to you?” Rafe raised his brows.

That was the only logical explanation. You went in all cocky and smiley, and now you looked like someone had shot a puppy in front of you.

You shook your head again, and Rafe felt a sharp stab of disappointment from how empty you sounded. “No, I’m just tired. Guess the lack of sleep’s finally catching up,” you said with a soft smile.

Rafe clenched his jaw, fingers tapping against the console. He was this close to snapping, but he didn’t want to yell. You’d probably shut down completely. Wheezie did the same thing when Dad started raising his voice and Rafe hated witnessing that.

“Okay, something’s clearly bothering you,” he said, forcing himself to keep his voice steady. “You’re always on about how important it is to talk shit out, and now you’re the one being all weird.”

Seriously, why did your behavior even bother him in the first place? Normally when some chick was trynna act sulky he’d drop her off at her place or kick her out immediately because he didn’t care about that shit.

But with you, he somehow couldn’t and that irritated the fuck out of him. Probably because I deserve some fucking answers.

“There’s nothing to solve because there’s no issue,” you finally said softly, clearly bullshitting.

Rafe clenched his jaw, running through every possible reason why you were suddenly acting like this. “Fuck that. There’s obviously an issue.” He tapped his chest with his fingers. “Did I say something that got the minions in your head running again? Shit, I was just pissed earlier because—”

“No, really. Everything's—”

“Fine? Don’t bullshit me. You were all bold and mouthy earlier and now?” Rafe furrowed his brows, trying to understand what the fuck was going on in your head. “Now you’re acting all wilted and melancholic like Topper after some chick rejects him.”

That got a chuckle out of you, and Rafe felt his features soften.

“I’m not acting wilted,” you said, a little amusement finally slipping back into your voice.

Rafe nodded. “You are. I’m guessing Barry ran his stupid mouth while I was gone.” He narrowed his eyes, another thought hitting him. “Or did that fucker creep on you?”

“What? Oh my god, no,” you replied, shaking your head, puzzled. “No, it’s just…” You held his gaze like you were the one with questions. After a second, you looked down at your fidgeting hands, a faint smile tugging at your lips. “I guess you’re right. I’m probably just creating a problem in my head that doesn’t even exist.”

Rafe frowned. “What the fuck did he say?”

You looked up, pretty eyes somehow carrying that sad little shine again, and Rafe had to fight the sudden urge to storm back into Barry’s shitty shop and drag the guy’s face across the counter.

“I...He didn’t exactly say it… I mean, I’d already been wondering...,” you started, clearly struggling to continue.

Rafe was so fucking close to losing it. He shook his head and gestured to his chest again. “What, huh? Me dealing coke? Is that what suddenly has you all scared? Shit, I’m not some criminal like Barry, okay? I just—”

"No, that's not it", you cut in, voice lacking your usual attitude. "I mean, sure, it's—"

"Holy fucking shit, just spit it out." Rafe couldn't bear you dancing around the answer any longer. Aggressively he gestured toward the pawn shop. "If Barry didn't fucking harass you then I seriously can't fucking imagine what's got you acting like this."

You pressed your lips together, eyes wide, brows raised like some deer about to get shot. "I don't know how to phrase it without it sounding like I'm ... delusional or crazy."

Rafe scoffed amused, both hands gesturing toward you. "Shit, you are crazy. Now fucking spit it out or I'm driving the car into the next fucking tree."

"Okay," you replied with a laugh, the smile quickly fading as your gaze drifted to the fidgeting fingers in your lap. "Okay, I just—" You seemed to take a deep breath in. "What's your business with me?"

Rafe blinked. “What?”

“I…” You pressed your lips together, clutching your bag tighter. “I’m not saying there is any business," you said, a nervous chuckle escaping. "I’m just… confused. I mean, I know we’ve had this conversation before. I know it’s stupid, I’m just…”

You furrowed your brows, meeting his eyes again. “You need to understand, I’m not trying to piss you off. I mean, you're probably right. It’s just my brain spiraling over nothing again. It's just… shit, I know this here is completely casual, I mean we aren't even friends, I just..."

You let out a strained breath, voice unsteady. “I’m not trying to accuse you of anything. I really don’t wanna come across like I’m assuming something’s going on in the first place. I mean, you already think I’m crazy,” you said, a distant smile tugging at your lips. “But obviously it’s totally fine if you’re only looking for a chance at some temporary fun. It’s just… in the hypothetical case you actually do expect something to happen...”

Another awkward laugh slipped out, and you sank into your seat, brows furrowed as you smiled nervously, “God, this is so embarrassing. I’m sorry, I probably sound—”

“Holy fucking shit, you need to chill the fuck out,” Rafe cut in, staring at you like you’d lost your damn mind. Because this? How much fucking longer did you wanna go on?

This was absolutely insane. The way your brain made up all this shit. How the fuck did you even function at all?

He pointed to his temples, eyes wide. “Seriously, this is not just borderline crazy. This is straight-up insane. I mean I am going insane just by listening to this."

“Well yeah, that’s actually what I was trying to say,” you muttered, hands fiddling in your lap. “I just don't understand why you'd wanna hang out with me if I'm getting on your nerves—unless there's some other motive.”

Jesus Christ. Rafe didn’t know anyone with this level of anxiety and overthinking. Not even Wheezie came close.

But that wasn’t what really pissed him off.

Sure, if you were a little nuts, fine. It was even kind of amusing, honestly. At least you had the brains to think about shit.

No, what really pissed him off was that you were questioning him, even after he’d already told you the answer to this topic in school just a few days ago. He'd just tried to help you by suggesting to work at Tannyhill for the next project session but you fucking declined because you'd thought he was just trying to hook up with you.

Okay, yeah, maybe at this point the idea of sleeping with you wasn't exactly unwelcome—though with your nerves, you'd both probably have a mental breakdown halfway through—but it wasn’t about that.

It was about the fucking principle.

You were acting like his word meant nothing. Like he was just some lying, sleazy, piece-of-shit Pogue.

Rafe clenched his jaw, using every ounce of self-control not to snap. “There's no fucking other motive. You make it sound like I'm plotting some crazy-ass shit.”

Your brows twitched, lips pressing together. Somehow, you still didn’t look satisfied.

For a moment, you just stared at him, hesitation flickering in your eyes, but then your voice came out soft, so soft it made Rafe's chest tighten in a way he didn’t like. “I’m not trying to be annoying or—”

“You are,” Rafe interrupted, surprised by the lack of bite in his tone. His face twisted and he raised his shoulders, gesturing at his chest. “Like, I don’t fucking get why you’re questioning me when I already told you—”

“I know.” You nodded, frustration leaking into your voice. “I know and I really appreciate it, but I just… it’s my brain, okay?” You tapped your finger against your temple. “It talks shit and I start believing it and I just can’t stop it. And then I get anxious—especially when someone gives it something to chew on—and it’s just so frustrating because I'm definitely not trying to piss you off, I don’t wanna ruin—I mean, I’m just asking for some reassurance, that’s all.”

Your brows knit together. “But then again, I don’t want some fake reassurance either if you actually—”

“Jesus fucking Christ, I like hanging out with you, okay?” Rafe pressed his lips together as the words left his mouth, not even sure why the fuck he’d said them. Why he even cared enough to listen to all this bullshit. But right now, all he wanted was to shut you the fuck up, so he didn’t bother filtering.

“I’m not trying to get in your pants, alright?” he added, wearing an irritated, almost amused smile. “I’d have to be fucking desperate to put up with all your messed-up crazy shit just for the chance to hook up with you. That's... fuck, I’m not that needy.”

He gestured to you, frustration seeping through his voice. “You piss me off, but I can deal with it. Shit, I think I even like it. You’re not some boring-ass gossip bitch like Ruthie.” He furrowed his brows, refusing to unpack what the hell that meant, now tapping his chest with his fingertips, voice strained. “But what I can’t fucking stand is not being taken seriously.”

Judging by your face, he hadn’t just shut your brain off, he’d completely nuked it. Your eyes were wide, lips pressed tight, and even your fidgeting had stopped.

He half expected you to start crying for whatever reason, but thank fuck you didn’t. You just frowned, that softness still in your expression. “I do take you seriously. That’s why I'm so confused. All these… I don’t know, suggestive comments and stuff. You say you don’t mean anything by it, but then you’re all teasing the next second. It’s confusing.”

Seriously, had you ever even interacted with a boy before Rafe?

He let out a frustrated smile, nodding. “Shit, yeah, ever heard of fucking flirting? That’s the thing people do because it’s fun. It doesn’t fucking have to lead to anything.” Rafe raised his brows. “Unless you want it to.”

And there it was again—that shift in you. Your whole vibe changed, whenever he said shit like this. And he couldn’t fucking tell if you were flustered, uncomfortable, or just weirded out.

You shook your head, a nervous laugh bubbling up like he’d asked you to strip in the backseat. “Of course, I know what flirting is. It’s just—In my head, this feels like… I don’t know mixed signals or whatever and—“

“Okay, fuck. Stop.” Rafe had hit his limit. He ran a hand over his face, voice tight with frustration. “I’m only saying this once, so fucking listen, alright?” He gestured to you again. “I fuck with you. You’re somehow fun to be around, even though you’re literally the least chill person I know.”

His brows twitched, a moment of hesitation flickering across his face, but he pushed through. He wasn’t gonna overthink—he wasn’t you. “And shit, yeah, of course, I’m flirting with you. You’re a cute chick. If you said the word, I’d be down to bend you over in the backseat right now, but why the fuck would I waste my energy on someone who’s clearly not into casual shit.”

Fuck. Now that he’d said it, he felt just as stunned as you looked.

Saying these words out loud ... it angered him. He'd basically just given in to you. But the thing that actually riled him up? The fact he'd just acknowledged out loud that he knew you weren't interested in him. That he couldn't get you into bed with some charm and a little flirting. That you were out of reach.

And fuck, this just made hanging out with you all the more confusing because why the fuck did he enjoy this shit if he was well aware that he wouldn't take you home later for some quick fun.

But worse than all of that was the way he found himself waiting.

Desperate for your response. Hoping you’d push back. Hoping you’d say something—anything—to let him know he'd just interpreted your signals wrong, that, yes, you did indeed find him attractive, that you actually enjoyed his presence, his flirts, and teasing. That you'd love to be his new friends-with-benefits-chick.

Jesus fucking Christ, he should go back inside Barry’s store and beat the shit out of that fucker for whatever the fuck he'd said to you that made you spiral this hard, and now Rafe was out here saying and thinking shit like this.

"Okay, now I'm even more confused," you said, smiling awkwardly. "You say you like spending time with me but at the same time, you also feel like you're wasting your time here."

Rafe was so close to smashing his head against the steering wheel. He raised his hands in exasperation. "And you say you're not trying to piss me off but right now I'm so close to losing my shit."

He aggressively tapped his finger on the middle console. "I just tried telling you that I'm not here because I'm looking for a chance at a fucking hookup, okay? Seriously, how much clearer do I need to be?"

“Okay. Just to clarify, for my own sanity,” you started slowly, voice soaked in nervous energy (Rafe was literally one second away from having a fucking stroke). “You like hanging out with me but according to your logic, you're not someone who's wasting his time with a girl if you're not gaining something from it."

With a pained expression, Rafe closed his eyes, pinching the bridge of his nose, and nodded with a distressed "Uh-huh".

Maybe if he just continued agreeing with you, then you'd finally shut up, because clearly snapping back only seemed to continue dragging on this horrible limbo of yours.

Some strained chuckle escaped your lips. "And considering you're still asking me to chill with you even though you seem to be aware that I don't wanna be someone's pastime, does that mean… I mean, is what you're hoping to gain from spending time with me… a friendship?"

Rafe's head snapped up.

That was your fucking conclusion to all of this?

Fucking hell. Did he look like someone in need of more clingy idiots crowding his life? Topper and Kelce were already enough and he didn’t even receive anything in return for dealing with their bullshit.

And having a female friend without getting to bend her over once in a while? He'd never even considered it. The only girls Rafe had ever privately hung out with were the ones he'd benefit from.

And all of them either got so fucking annoying, he'd dropped them, or worse—they'd wanted more. Dates, gifts, PDA. A label. The title of Rafe Cameron's girlfriend.

They all wanted the benefits that came of being with him but none of them had actually wanted him.

But you? Well, he had to admit you were different. You didn’t do hookups. You didn’t chase him because of his last name and the benefits that came with it.

And the crazy part? That just fucking pissed him off more.

Because for some fucked-up reason he'd actually learned to tolerate your presence enough that he could deal with your crazy-ass brain outside of the project despite him not receiving some fun time in return. And now you assumed he wanted this to actually result in some permanent shit.

But for whatever reason, the idea that this might be over after handing in your project next week? That actually stirred something weird in his chest.

Right now, Rafe could still claim the project was the reason for you two spending time together (if you ignored the fact you weren't doing school shit at the moment). Sure, he’d admitted he liked you—but everything about the way you two had been hanging out this past week could still be chalked up to the assignment. But once that was over… then what?

Fuck, all of this was giving him a headache. And now you were pressuring him to define whatever the fuck was going on between the two of you.

Rafe shook his head in irritation. "Why do you even need a fucking label for some casual hangout? Can't we just fucking chill?"

You gestured to your chest, a distressed smile on your face. "Yeah, of course. I just… my brain needs to make sense of this somehow, so I can place this in either ‘okay, this ends when the project’s over’ or ‘alright, get ready to make space for this person, they’re gonna stick around.’ It’s fucking stupid, I know, but it helps me adjust to new people."

This right here was the biggest fucking test of patience in Rafe's entire life and he was so fucking sick of you demanding him to clarify shit when you were the one that made him question his sanity.

"Shit, I don't fucking know, alright?" Rafe raised his shoulders with an irritated smile. "I mean what the fuck do you want? You’re calling me confusing, but I don’t even fucking know if you actually like me or if you’re just tagging along because you’re too scared to decline because of some people-pleasing bullshit or whatever.”

Like he'd admitted all this fucking shit just now, but why didn't you? Why didn't you offer him some reassurance?

Your gaze softened, and that only irritated him more.

“I'm actually very capable of saying 'No',” you replied.

“Yeah, the fuck do I know.” Rafe threw his hands up. And then, a disgusting thought crossed his mind. “Or are you just tagging along because you're hoping for some attention of being seen with me?”

Finally, your frown returned—thank god. That little bit of fire he was used to.

“What? No!” You shook your head, clearly confused. “Aside from the fact that I couldn’t care less about shit like that, I’d rather jump off a cliff than draw unnecessary attention to myself.” Your expression softened again, lips quirking into a crooked smile. “I came along because I wanted to. Not because I’m trying to get some pics snapped of me being seen with an A-List celebrity.”

Just say it, Rafe thought, not even caring about your stupid comment. You were so fucking close to saying it. Tiptoeing on the edge of it. So damn close to saying what he needed to hear.

But you didn’t. And it pissed him off. Fucked with his head. Just—

Fuck all of that.

Maybe it sounded pathetic, maybe it was, but he didn’t care. He had to know. “So you actually do like hanging out with me?”

A soft laugh left your lips and your brows knit slightly. “Yes? I’m not spending my time with people I can’t stand.”

And just like that, something in Rafe finally let go. He exhaled a breath he hadn’t even realized he’d been holding. It felt like a win—even though he hadn’t actually won anything. Actually, he’d probably lost some fucking braincells discussing that shit.

He sank back into his seat, staring through the windshield, running a hand through his hair, no fucking energy left after this marathon of a discussion.

He tilted his head toward you with furrowed brows, motioning between the two of you. “So where’s the fucking problem, huh? We both like hanging out and neither of us is hiding some secret agenda or some shit.”

You smiled awkwardly. “Except you literally said—”

“Yeah, I know what I fucking said,” Rafe cut in, already regretting having voiced that he'd be down to bend you over. But whatever. It was out there now, so who the fuck cared.

“I’m not some horny perv who's unable to be in a room with a chick without trying to get in her pants,” he added, a lopsided smirk tugging at his lips. “Doesn’t mean I’m gonna pass up on a little flirting and teasing.”

You raised your brows slightly, chin tilting downward. "So—"

"YES, for fuck’s sake!" Rafe raised his hands, shifting up in his seat, absolutely at the end of his rope. "If that helps to end this fucking stupid discussion, then yes please, go ahead and tell your crazy-ass brain it can open a new fucking folder titled ‘I made Rafe Cameron lose his fucking mind to the point where I force-befriended him’. And put some big-ass lock on it because that shit stays closed from now on."

He let out a strained breath, an exasperated smile twitching on his lips. "There. Does this shut you up or do I need to craft you a fucking friendship bracelet with my name on it?”

The worst part: The image of you wearing his name around your wrist sparked fucking JOY in his fucking chest for some fucked-up reason.

SEE. YOU'RE MAKING HIM GO THIS FUCKING CRAZY, HE WAS GETTING EXCITED ABOUT STUPID FRIENDSHIP BRACELETS.

You just stared at him, lips parted slightly like your brain was still spiraling over the obvious. Rafe almost thought he’d have to go back into the pawn shop and ask Barry to blow his fucking brains out, but you simply shook your head, a gentle smile forming.

“I don’t think that’s necessary", you replied with a soft smile.

Rafe eyed you impatiently, waiting for you to go on and spiral into another damn monologue about how you had to figure out the right color for this mental folder, and which fucking font would best match the content—because god forbid you’d use some bullshit like Papyrus or—WHAT THE FUCK DID HE KNOW, JESUS CHRIST YOU MADE HIM THINK ABOUT THIS FUCKING BULLSHIT.

To top it all off, you had the audacity to stay quiet and Rafe could physically feel his nerves blow up. “That’s it?”

No fucking way that actually resolved this fucking discussion.

You eyed him amused like he’d just hallucinated this whole fuckass conversation. “Well, yeah.”

Rafe’s brows dropped to a scowl. “You're fucking kidding me, right?”

“No.” A small laugh left you, and that familiar glimmer was back in your eyes. “I just needed some clarity to calm my nerves. That’s just how my brain works. I’m okay as long as things make sense. But the second a thought enters my mind that could mess with that—even if it’s ridiculous—it sticks. And then it ruins the whole logic. And until the thought can be ruled out, it stays, and my head chews it up until it gets worse.”

That's it. You were officially the reason Rafe considered therapy just so someone could tell him why the fuck he even put up with your shit.

Like, seriously, Rafe had some fucked-up shit going on in his head, but you? Holy shit, if he had to deal with the crap your brain pulled every day, he’d fucking lose it.

Your head sounded like a fucking prison.

Rafe let out a distressed breath. "Now, care to tell me, what was the actual fucking reason for you spiraling this hard in the first place?" He gestured toward the pawn shop. "And don't fucking think about lying. Either you tell me or I'm gonna go back inside and beat the answer out of that fucker."

He wouldn’t, though. Barry might’ve looked like a little bum, but Rafe had seen it enough times—his threats didn’t usually stay just threats. And sure, Rafe might’ve had the upper hand physically, but Barry didn’t do fights.

He'd pull out a gun and even Rafe's fists had no chance against that.

You pressed your lips together, hesitating for a second. “He just told me to be careful around you. It wasn’t even really what he said, it was more the way he said it.” You shook your head, puzzled. “And I guess my brain just filled in the worst-case scenario because… well…” A flicker of uncertainty in your pretty eyes. “I mean, not to sound like a dick, but it’s just a fact that you don’t really hang out with girls. And when you do it’s like... you know.”

Yeah, that was true. Rafe didn’t deny it. But still, why the fuck did you have this fucking player image of him?

Sure, he did hookups once in a while—every few weeks maybe at some random party. And yeah, he’d had friends with benefits, but like four or five times at most in his whole damn life. But the way you made it sound? Like he was out here fucking someone new every night.

“So instead of just asking me straight up what’s going on, you’d rather fucking… what? Sulk and act weird as hell? What kind of childish reaction is that?” Rafe asked, face twisting in frustration.

You let out a short laugh. “I didn’t wanna piss you off by bringing this up. Which, clearly, I did.”

“Well, yeah, because I practically had to beat the answer out of you,” Rafe said with a scowl, motioning to his chest. “What actually pisses me off is when people won’t just say what the fuck they're trying to say.”

You nodded sheepishly. “Yeah, makes sense. I’m sorry for making this so messy.” A soft chuckle slipped out. “I guess we both value clear answers… just on different scales.”

Yeah, except Rafe didn’t have a mental breakdown when he didn’t get one.

“I just don’t fucking understand why you can’t just ignore these fucking thoughts,” he said, oddly calm for some reason. "When some shit starts bothering me, I just fucking ignore it. If I need to make a decision, I just do it. If some asshole pisses me off? I put him in his fucking place.”

He scoffed. “And your brain sounds like one big asshole. You just gotta show it who's boss.”

Surprisingly, you laughed—soft, genuine—and Rafe blinked, confused.

“What?” he asked. “I’m serious. It’s absolutely insane that your own mind is your worst enemy. That’s fucking fucked-up.”

He gestured to himself. “I mean that dude pisses me off so badly, I wanna smash his face into a wall just to get him to shut the fuck up. How the fuck do you let him pull this shit on you?”

“That’s—” You laughed again, and something weird flipped in Rafe’s stomach. “I appreciate the energy,” you said, “but honestly, I’m already good when people just have a little patience with me.”

Your expression grew distant. “When I bring stuff like this up, I’m not trying to be annoying. I’m just genuinely trying to find clarity in the chaos up here.” You tapped your temple, smiling gently again. “That’s why I really appreciate that you actually talked with me this time—even though I’m sure you wanted to smash my head through the window.”

He'd rather have your head pressed against some sheets to let go of this fucking pressure inside him but Rafe forced this thought down (see? easy).

So he just shook his head. “I did but I’d rather not have your dad on my ass because of that. That dude’s got some crazy aura.”

Another laugh slipped from your lips, and Rafe felt his features soften. “I guess. He served as a combat medic in the military, so I think some of that still lingers beneath the surface.”

Shit, that made sense. Rafe knew there was a reason that guy had given him the creeps the first time he'd looked at him. He seemed nice, sure—kind even—but deep down Rafe was certain that man could knock someone out cold with a single punch.

The weird thing was: Rafe actually felt less tense around him than around his own dad.

“Shit, another reason to keep my hands off you,” Rafe muttered with a low chuckle. “Don’t need Liam Neeson in Taken chasing me down.”

Another laugh. And damn, that made Rafe feel like some kind of winner.

“I doubt you have to worry", you said. "He actually seemed to like—”

Your phone started buzzing inside your bag.

"Cara," you said when you pulled it out with an apologetic smile. “I should take this.”

Rafe gave a reluctant nod, even though the sudden interruption annoyed the fuck out of him.

“What’s up?” you said, holding the phone to your ear. After a beat, you added, “I’m with Rafe.”

His head snapped up like he’d been struck by lightning.

That was... he couldn’t remember you ever saying his name out loud before. And now that he’d heard it—coming from your sweet voice—fuck.

It did something to him. A weird kind of something. Buzzing in his stomach, warmth blooming in his chest, and this deep, unfamiliar ache for something he couldn’t quite name.

“Really?” You laughed. “We’re actually close by—Yeah, at Barry’s—Girl, no—Yeah, I know he told me—Yeah, I know I was the one who asked you—Okay, yeah, sure—So I assume you're with—yep, thought so—Okay—Seriously?—Alright—Yeah, nah, let’s not.” You laughed again. “Okay—Yeah, see you in a bit.”

You hung up, your whole presence lighting back up.

“Sorry,” you said with a soft smile, slipping the phone back into your bag. “She’s at the beach nearby and asked me to join her. Or well... I kinda asked her earlier if we could hang out, so....”

Rafe felt a frown creeping in, disappointment taking over his entire body. You were about to fucking ditch him.

He raised his brows. “Now?”

You nodded, toying with your bag strap. “Well... yeah. She needs some backup.”

“What, her boots got stuck in the sand or some shit?”

You shook your head, chuckling. “No, she’s with some people and… well, she needs help with a boy.”

“Her?” Rafe scoffed, disbelieving. “She’s the most upfront and confrontational person I’ve ever met. What the fuck does she need help with?” He tilted his head. “And didn’t she have some thing going on with Topper?”

“Yeah, I don’t know,” you said, holding your hands up in amusement. “She’s super complicated when it comes to that stuff.”

Girls. Rafe didn’t fucking get them.

“So what, you want me to drop you off now?” He didn't even try to hide his disappointment.

Your smile faltered slightly. “Well, yeah, that’d be nice.”

Rafe clenched his jaw. You were actually going to leave him now—after he'd helped you get rid of your hangover, after he’d actually shown patience and calmed the voices in your head, after all his nerves were fried beyond repair.

You were scared he might play you? Nah, he was the one who felt toyed with right now.

But as much as Rafe wanted to call you out for it, snap at you for being all anxious and now daring to pull this shit, he just didn’t have it in him. No strength left. He really didn’t have the fucking energy or patience for another long-ass conversation with you monologuing about shit.

Sure, he could just decide to tag along, because when did Rafe ever ask for permission, but his gut told him that was a weird fucking move. He wasn't your fucking dog to accompany you everywhere.

Fuck, he didn't fucking know how to handle shit with a girl like you.

So he just nodded, buckled up, and started the engine. Letting out a tight breath as he pulled out of the parking lot, he asked, “Where to?”

You hesitated for a second. “Do you know where the western beach of the Cut is?”

Rafe scoffed and nearly stopped the car. You’ve got to be fucking kidding me.

Of course, he knew where that fucking beach was. Sarah always went there after school to hang out with her stupid little Pogue friends.

So yeah, he could already guess exactly what kind of people Cara was hanging out with: those annoying-ass rats.

The thing that pissed him off the most wasn’t even you ditching him. It wasn’t driving you around like a damn chauffeur. It wasn’t even that you were trading him for a group of Pogue losers.

Nah. It was the fact that Sarah had once again managed to stick her nose into shit that didn’t fucking concern her. Because somehow this reeked of her meddling.

And the worst part? It felt like she was winning again. Like she’d won over their dad, like she'd won over Kie during her time at Kildare Academy by turning her against Rafe just for them to end up having some bitchy fallout shortly after.

Like she’d get to win you over too with some fake-ass bullshit.

And you, being prone to falling for shit like that with that brain of yours, would probably believe her too. Not because you were naive, nah, but because your head would probably soak Sarah's sweet words up, falling back into a spiral over Rafe's intention or some bullshit.

Fuck.

Rafe actually liked this weird acquaintanceship with you (THERE, THAT'S THE LABEL THAT FIT THIS SHIT). He didn’t need Sarah to ruin that—or worse—take you from him. Pull you into her little shitty-ass, feel-good Pogue bullshit friend group.

And the most fucked up thing? You weren’t even his. But the very thought of Sarah turning you against him anyway?

Nah. He wouldn't let that happen.

You said Rafe was hoping to gain some shitty-ass friendship from this? Fine. If that’s what it took for your brain to hold on to Rafe, he’d gladly be your fucking friend.

He’d throw every goddamn principle he had out the window before he let Sarah take something else from him before he even had a chance to claim it for himself.

Because for the first time in years, Rafe actually felt like he didn't wanna let go of a girl. Nah, he actually wanted to keep you around. Not as some warm body in his bed—it fucked with his head that you weren’t into hookups but he could accept that—but because somehow, you were the first girl who didn't hang on his ass to brag to her friends later about getting to ride his dick.

Shit, if he didn’t know any better, he’d think you were either a lesbian or just completely uninterested in sex altogether. Which only messed with his head even more, because if both of you were here willingly, what the fuck was the point if no one was gaining anything from it?

Like, why the fuck did Rafe feel this pull toward you? Not just sexually… more like—fuck, he didn’t even know. He also couldn't compare it to the short-lived whatever-thing he'd had with Kie either because he'd only ever seen her as some extension of Sarah that he tolerated. Thinking of her even remotely sexual had just felt fucking weird.

But you? Being around you came close to landing a hole-in-one during golfing, the feeling after being praised by his dad, the way his body buzzed after a line of coke. Which honestly made him wonder if the perfume you were wearing was laced with chemicals or some shit that messed with his head like that.

Fuck, this? Him thinking about this shit at all—that was your fucking fault.

Rafe just knew he liked having you around so there was no need to let you go.

For now.

So as much as he hated, despised, and loathed the idea of you ditching him for some beach party with dirty-ass Pogues and Princess Sarah, by now, he'd learned that if he kept his temper in check, his patience with you would pay off.

Shit, he'd even add a little bonus.

So, when you'd asked if he knew the way, he shot you a raised brow and a casual side-eye, and in the most unbothered tone he said, “Yeah, it’s just down the road. Assuming your friend's succeeding with that guy, I’m guessing you’re gonna need someone to pick you up later.”

And when your brows twitched and your eyes lit up, Rafe knew he was one step closer to keeping you around for real.

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millermouth · 6 months ago

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Summary: Being raised by a survivalist father meant learning two things: endure at all costs, and trust no one. And you lived by those rules, even after he was gone, surviving alone in a world that never gave second chances. But enduring becomes far more complicated when a familiar face returns, burdened with a fierce young girl and a mission that was never meant to include you. When you're forced from the only home you’ve ever known, survival is no longer just about the next meal or the next breath—it’s about who you become when there’s no way back. You’ve spent years believing your father’s lessons—that needing people is a sign of weakness. But as the miles stretch on, as survival becomes more than just a fight for the next day, one truth becomes harder to ignore—you can’t live by your father’s rule of trusting no one anymore.

And one man makes following that rule damn near impossible.

Themes: Joel miller x reader slow burn romance, post-outbreak, grief, healing, angst & longing.

Warnings: canon-type violence, death, depictions of grief and trauma, age gap romance, suicide (referenced, not graphic), intimacy and eventual smut. 18+ only MDNI, but I can't control what you do so discretion is advised.

Other: reader is afab, long hair (enough to grab, put up in a ponytail) may be mentioned. no other physical characteristics. graphics do not reflect character description, only used for vibes. Follows Season 1 of The Last of Us. Blend of show and game canon. Picture Joel as you prefer, but I will be mentioning Pedro Pascal's brown eyes. No use of Y/N. In the beginning of the story, time hops are not canon.

Prologue

Before: 5 Years Old

Before: 10 Years Old

Before: 15 Years Old

Before: 18 Years Old

Before: 20 Years Old

Before: 23 Years Old

Now: 25 Years Old

Chapter 1: Joel and Ellie

Chapter 2: Escape

Chapter 3: The Envelope

Chapter 4: Fungus Ain't That Smart

Chapter 5: Kansas City

Chapter 6: The Climb

Chapter 7: Turret

Chapter 8: Strangers

Chapter 9: Spotlight

Chapter 10: Into the Water

Chapter 11: The Suburbs

Chapter 12: Fight and Flight

Chapter 13: Breaking Point

Chapter 14: One Month Later

Chapter 15: Jackson

Chapter 16: Thresholds

Chapter 17: Thinking of You

Chapter 18: Betrayal

Chapter 19: On the Road Again

Chapter 20: The Basement

Chapter 21: David

Chapter 22: Capture

Chapter 23: Blood and Fire

Chapter 24: What Comes After

Chapter 25: Waterways

Chapter 26: What Was Lost and What Was Taken

Epilogue

Ever After

Four Years Later

more coming soon

Hey, you beautiful, amazing people.

I don’t even know where to start, but thank you. Seriously. From the bottom of my heart: to everyone who read, liked, reblogged, screamed in the tags, sent me messages, or just silently followed along—you made this story so much more than I ever imagined.

Every comment, every reaction, every little freak-out over a scene made my day (and honestly fueled me to keep going). The way you connected with this story, these characters—it means everything. Writing this was one thing, but experiencing it with all of you? That was the best part.

So, to everyone who stuck with me, whether from the beginning or just recently—thank you for being here. Thank you for caring. Thank you for making this so special.

I love you all. Truly.

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lostgirlinthewoods · 1 year ago

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CRAZY STUPID LOVE | park wonbin smau

pairing. guitarist!park wonbin x athlete!fem!reader

synopsis. lee y/n, a competitive swimming athlete, just wants to finish her degree as a scholar. no drama. no distractions. and certainly, no romance. park wonbin, a music prod student and the siren’s guitarist, just wants to make music. no crazy fangirls in line to date him. no insane dms from random people declaring their love for him. and certainly, no dating. imagine the shock on y/n’s face when she received a message from her brother, anton, asking “since when did you and wonbin started dating?”

genre. social media au, college au, fake dating, fluff, crack

status. ongoing.

start: 25/06/2024 → end: ________

notes. this is my first smau, so be easy on me. this is gonna be my first work in this blog after 2 years before i decided to abandoned it to move. i just really love riize and my mind is itching to do something about it. ignore timestamps unless otherwise stated.

taglist. open. send an ask or reply to this post.

profiles.

01. chlorine squad 02. pull it back that siren 03. girls only

chapters.

01. saturday gig 02. chanyoung's older sis 03. corner cafe 04. secretly a nerd?? 05. wonbin the black cat 06. lunch 07. hangouts 08. y/n's tiny little crush 09. rumours 10. twitter thread 11. anton's text 12. we are dating 13. how to boyfriend 101 14. so in love 15. im just a cat 16. swim meet literally 17. twitter thread pt 2 18. eunseok's pov 19. should we break up? 20. y/n and wonbin's break up mission 21. the joe alwyn to his taylor 22. the break up playlist 23. maybe we shouldn’t break up 24. getting too real tba...

meme and reaction pics archives. (will upload after i finish the series)

taglist. (closed. reached maximum mentions allowed.)

@molensworld @wonychu @yoursyuno @siuewnb @gyehyeonist @binoyu @secretiny @started-with-f-ends-with-uck @seokton @fae-renjun @nujeskz @i03jae @daegale @kyusqult @riki-shenanigans @revehosh @nctrawberries @wonbins-black-cat @parkwonbinie @saranghoeforanton @tommina @chuutaroo @000rpheus @p-d1ddy @starwonb1n @ikiqui @taroddori @blossominghunnie

@aloverga @brachioswrld @toriblogkk @miyawwn @intakstars @naviiy @bebubilu @soheendo @otblous @katarinaesqa @intakstars @yla-aira @i1uvc4ke @maleegayuh @renjuneoo @whoisgwyn @hakkkuu @endtostartbreathin @yngjngwon @flaminghotyourmom @deonuism @film-sea @babigriin @ssweetreveries @bunni

@onlyhyunjin @adoresoapy @donutswjam @dearestjake @icyona

asks. for any thoughts, messages, and feedbacks; or even just for a conversation.

#riize social media au #riize smau #riize imagines #riize scenarios #riize reactions #wonbin social media au #wonbin smau #riize x reader #kpop smau #riize #wonbin #park wonbin #riize wonbin #wonbin fluff #wonbin imagines #wonbin scenarios #blue: csl

1K notes · View notes

elleaitch22 · 18 days ago

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Terms of Endearment

Chapter 16: Someone to be Chosen

Pairing: Paige Bueckers x Azzi Fudd

A/N: Our girls are back! Please leave comments, reviews, or live reactions! Mostly fluffy family dynamics! I hope y’all love it!! xx Elle

Warnings: Mentions of emotional abuse, PTSD, effects of gaslighting, self-deprecation, elements of dom/sub

Word Count: 6.7k words

~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~

Paige woke up with a smile. She woke up with a smile on her face for the first time in forever, and it was all because of Azzi Fudd.

They had another date. This one planned by Azzi. One she made sure Soleil was included in. “I just want to make sure she’s okay with everything before we get any deeper.”

They had their second date on a Tuesday afternoon, too excited to wait for the weekend.

It started with Paige picking Soleil up from school instead of Azzi.

“Mommy!” She squealed. “What are you doing hewe?”

Paige laughed warmly, “Me and Azzi wanted to surprise you with a family day.” She said, scooping her baby into her arms.

Lei gasped. “Does that mean Azzi is in ouw family?” She beamed when the woman nodded to her. “Like my othew mommy? I get two mommies?!” Her body vibrated with excitement.

Paige knew that her answer would break Soleil’s heart. “Maybe we can talk about it at lunch or dinner.” She paused at her pout. “Don’t make that face, Lei. She’s still in our family.” She pressed a kiss to her nose. “Come on, Azzi’s waiting for us in the car.”

“Azzi! Hi, Azzi!” Soleil shouted, climbing into her car seat. She fastened the top while Paige clicked the bottom straps into place.

Azzi turns to the back seat with a wide grin. “Hi Sunny Girl! Did you have a good day today?” She asked.

“I haved a good day, but it’s gonna me the best day because Mommy said we have family day today!” Soleil bounced in her seat.

“That’s so good, Lei! Do you wanna know what we’re gonna do today?” Azzi started. Soleil’s ponytails bounced as she nodded, “First, we’re going to go to my house to eat lunch, then we’re going to go paint, and then we’re going to go to the aquarium!” She spoke excitedly.

Soleil’s big blue eyes were bright with joy and anticipation. “Auntie Nika took me to the quawum one time! We saw the fishies!”

“You think you’re going to like our family day, Soleil?” Paige asked from the front seat.

The little girl was filled with energy, but that didn’t matter. As soon as Paige pulled onto the highway, Soleil was knocked out.

“It’s good that she’s taking a nap. Even though it’ll only be 45 minutes, it’ll help her be less cranky.” Azzi said, looking at the girl warmly.

A large hand landed on Azzi’s thigh, and while the skin to skin was nowhere near erotic, it still made her warm.

She turned her head back to the woman driving. Her jawline was still as perfect and sharp as the day Azzi met her. She was dressed casually in a pair of black cargos and a 90s style graphic tee. Her hair was down, natural waves flowing gently, and Azzi decided she really liked her hair like this. It made her look younger, softer somehow.

“You’re staring at me, Princess.” The blonde said, with a smirk on her face.

Azzi felt her cheeks darken. “You’re one of the prettiest people I’ve ever seen, Paige. Of course I’m staring.” She turned to look at the window instead. If she couldn’t admire her girlfriend’s beauty, she’d admire all the trees blurring as the rode.

Paige didn’t say anything, but at the next stoplight, Azzi could feel like heavy gaze of her eyes. She started at Azzi’s neck before looking at the skin of her bare shoulders. She’d only had on a cropped pink tank top and a pair of short overalls that were intentionally splatter painted. Azzi wanted her outfit to be symbolic of the fun they would have on their date. As Paige’s eyes reached the expanse of Azzi’s thick thighs and long legs, her thumb started to brush light circles into the tanned skin.

“You’re so sweet to me, Azzi.”

The praise hit her right in her chest. She didn’t think anyone had called her sweet since she was in elementary school. It was confusing, rewiring how she thought about herself, but if Paige kept saying things like that, her whole brain was going to end up rewired.

~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~

As they rode the elevator to Azzi’s apartment, she hid a smirk.

Paige wanted to order food for lunch, “If I have the money, it doesn’t make sense to just buy the food, Az.”

“Eating home cooked meals is healthier. There’s less sodium, chemicals, and the food is properly seasoned.” Azzi paused and went in for the winning point. “I just don’t want Soleil to eat all those chemicals in processed food.”

She had already seen Paige hesitating, but the point about Soleil was the nail in the coffin. She almost giggled as how easy it was to make her girlfriend (!!) fold.

The blonde rubbed Soleil on her back, trying to wake her up as they walked down the hallway.

“WAIT!” Azzi exclaimed when they got to her door.

Paige stiffened, “What?” She said calmly, voice tight.

“You can’t come in yet! Give me ten seconds. Literally, just count to ten.” She scrambled inside and shut the door behind her, not even giving Paige a chance to follow her in.

Soleil’s head popped up, “Why is Azzi acting cwazy, Mommy?”

Before Paige could answer her question, the door swung open.

Azzi was holding two bouquets. The bigger one had pink and yellow roses, blue iris, and orchids, and the smaller was just sunflowers.

“Azzi got us flowews, Mommy!” Soleil wiggled until Paige put her down. “Thank you for the flowews Azzi!”

The brunette handed her the bouquet, “I got you sunflowers because you’re my Sunny Girl.” She grinned.

Soleil held her flowers proudly as she marched into the apartment.

“I’ve never been given flowers by a partner before.” Paige said, quietly.

Azzi’s smile softened, “Well, I think you should always get flowers. I’ll get them whenever I can.” She said softly.

“So, what’s my bouquet symbolize?” The older woman smirked, stepping close to her girlfriend.

“Appreciation.” A kiss on the cheek. “Affection.” A kiss on the other. “Trust.” A firm, but short peck on the lips. “Thank you for finding me, Paige.”

~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~

The lobby of Color Me Mine was filled with the shrieks and giggles of a happy girl as Azzi and Paige swung her in the air.

“Welcome to Color Me Mine, what can I get started for you today?” The young girl at the register smiled.

Before either adult could respond, soleil had gotten on her tippy toes. “I wanna paint some cups fow my mommy and Azzi. And they gonna paint a cup fow me!” Her voice was filled with anticipation.

The girl’s smile faltered, looking at the women. “Um,” She started, eyes panicked.

“That’s fine, Lei. Just remember even though we paint them today, we can’t take them home until next week.” Paige reminded her.

The cashier breathed out a sign of relief. “Okay, so the studio fee will be six dollars for the child and ten dollars for two adults,” She mumbled as she hit a few buttons on the screen. “Once you go to the wall and pick your pieces, I can ring you up and get you guys started,” She smiled at the trio.

Soleil was already off, browsing the rows of mugs like an art critic. She silently pulled a plain unicorn into her hands, inspecting it before handing it to Paige. “For Mommy.” She said seriously, still looking at the other dishes. Her lips twitched at the sight of a mug with little indented hearts covering the outside. “For Azzi.”

Azzi and Paige both chose the mug they wanted Soleil to paint for them before deciding to customize another dish for each other. The brunette chose a big bowl that would be more aesthetically pleasing than the fruit bowl sitting on the counter at the penthouse. Paige decided on one of those big plates. Something that you could put on a coffee table or on display on a kitchen counter.

They carried the plain pieces back to the register. And when the girl said, “That’ll be 176 please,” Azzi had tapped her phone to the tablet before Paige could even pull her phone out.

The woman glared at her girlfriend, “Why would you do that, Azzi. We’re on a date.”

Azzi had never seen someone glare as prettily as Paige Bueckers did. Instead of a snarl or a grimace that made her fearful, Paige’s expression was kind of cute. Her brows pinched together a little, her eyes were laser focused, and her mouth was opened just a little.

“Yeah, but it’s my date. I planned it, so I pay for it.” She smiled; cheeks pink from her thoughts.

She turned away from the counter and gripped Soleil’s hand. “Come on, Lei Lei! Let’s pick a table.”

Five minutes later, Paige was no less upset. “Paige,” Azzi was met with a grunt and no eye contact. “Come on, P. Are you really mad at me?”

Blue eyes met brown before rolling. “We agreed to let me take care of you.” She huffed. “I thought that was the conclusion we arrived at last week.”

“You are taking care of me, Paige,” Azzi smiled softly. “It’s the only reason I could pay for this date.”

Soleil’s head popped up from the abstract painting she was creating, “What’s a date?”

Azzi shook her head. This was all Paige’s domain. “A date is when two people who want to get to know each other better spend time together.” She rose from her seat and nodded to the next table. The two women walked over so Soleil wouldn’t hear the rest of their conversation. “I don’t like you paying for things. If I’m taking care of everything, that includes everything.”

“So, what?” Azzi started, brows furrowed and nose scrunched. “If I want to do something nice for you, I have to ask permission first?” She glared.

“I gave you my black card, Azzi. You’re an authorized user.” Paige answered, bewildered. “I know I initially did it because you had to buy stuff for Soleil, but you’re my girl now.”

Azzi’s head went back like she’d just been slapped. “What does that have to do with anything?” She scoffed.

“I don’t want you to be in the same situation again.” Paige paused. “If you feel like you need to leave, if you want to leave, you should be able to. If you decide you aren’t happy here with us, with me, I need you to be able to leave and be okay financially.” She breathed deeply. “So, I need you to save your money. Keep your checks, just in case.”

Azzi’s whole body drooped like a wilted flower. “You think I’d just leave?”

“No, no, no, Azzi.” Paige said, leaning across the table to grab her hand. “I don’t think you’d ever leave, but I don’t know the future. I might end up doing something or you may just decide that this isn’t the life you want anymore. Which is valid. I just want to make sure you will be fine, even if you leave.”

The brunette nodded, understanding her girlfriend a little more. “But I need to pay for things I planned. It makes me feel…dirty. If I use your movie to buy something for you, it’ll feel make me feel like I’m just using you for money.”

“I hear what you’re saying, Azzi. So, if you pay for the dates you plan, will you let me pay for everything else?”

Azzi knew this was probably the best offer, so she just nodded her head.

“Thank you,” Paige breathed out, relaxing.

The rest of the painting date is filled with soft teasing, messy hands, and never ending giggles.

“Come on, Paige. Everyone knows that unicorns have rainbow hair, not just pink and purple.” Azzi smirked.

“Are you really just doing a plain, boring pattern, Azzi?” Paige questioned after Azzi’s second row of patterned hearts.

Azzi helped Soleil paint little smiley faces all over the mug the girl had created for her mom, while the younger woman begged the older to leave Soleil’s mug for her alone. She didn’t want anything extra added to the vase Soleil had spent so much time crafting.

The bowl Azzi made for Paige was going to be beautiful after it came out of the kiln. The patterns were clean, but the lilac shade added an element of ‘Paige’. Paige’s creation was yellows, golds, and neutrals. The piece would look good wherever Azzi decided to put it.

Most people would have hated a date where they spent two hours painting dishes with their significant other’s child, but to Azzi, there was no other place she’d rather be.

~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~

The aquarium went much better than their painting date. Paige watched with a smirk as Azzi paid for the tickets, then they were off.

The moving walkway was in a tunnel showing aquatic life swimming above them.

They let Soleil lead their excursion, and. She wanted to stop at each sign, and she asked one of the women to read each one.

“Azzi, that’s so cool that ottews hold hands so they don’t go away in the night!” Her nose was pressed against the glass. “I want to be with the ottews when I gwowed up!”

Then she paused and looked to the woman. “Can we hold hands when you sleep at Mommy’s house? She questioned.

“Of course, Sunny Girl.” She smiled brightly at the girl.

The next plaque to read for penguins was. Azzi looked at Paige as she read all of the facts about the birds. She was bathed in a blue hue from the water. Soleil was perched on her shoulder, too show to see inside the pod. She was such a good mother. As much as she worked, it was clear the two were obsessed with each other.

They drifted off to the coral reef exhibit where there was a touch pool. Soleil immediately darted over, excited to touch some of the animals she had been learning about.

“Can I touch the stawfish, Azzi?” She questioned nervously.

Azzi held the girls hand in hers, slowly guiding her to brush against the animal lightly. “We just have to be gentle, Sunny. They’re alive, just like us!”

Soleil’s tongue peeked out of her mouth as she focused on using her most gentle hands, not wanting to hurt the animal.

Like Azzi had done in the penguin room, Paige stood back and watched them. She smiled at how natural they looked, with Azzi kneeling next to Soleil, her hand guiding her daughter’s. Their comfort with each other wasn’t forced. It was natural.

They lingered a while, moving slow. Azzi didn’t rush Soleil, and Soleil didn’t seem to feel the need to bounce between tanks like she usually did. Paige wondered if this was how it would always feel. Like a shared rhythm.

In the jellyfish room, they all spoke in whispers, as if they’d entered a cathedral.

The tanks glowed like something from a dream; soft pinks, electric purples, tendrils swayed in time with the current. Soleil pressed her palm flat to the glass and let out a little gasp as Paige read the plaque.

“They don’t even have bones,” she breathed.

Azzi, beside her, murmured, “They don’t have hearts either.”

Soleil turned to her, eyebrows pinched. “Then how do they love?”

Azzi smiled. “Maybe they love with their light.”

That earned a small, reverent silence. Paige let it settle over her like a warm wave.

Then Soleil turned, eyes lighting up. “I wanna hold youw hands now. Both of you.”

Without hesitation, she reached up, sliding her small fingers into both of theirs. Paige looked down and saw Azzi’s thumb brush gently across Soleil’s knuckles. Their eyes met, just for a moment, and Paige couldn’t tell if the flicker in her chest was joy or yearning.

They passed into the oceanarium where the tank stretched stories high. A beluga swam slowly past, its pale body moving like a cloud underwater. Soleil pressed close to the glass, then turned to whisper, “That one’s my favorite.”

“Mine too,” Paige said. “She looks like she’s dancing.”

“Azzi,” Soleil said seriously, tugging at her hand. “You have to pick your favorite too.”

Azzi hummed, thoughtful. “I think I like the sea turtles. They’re slow, but they always get where they’re going.”

Soleil seemed satisfied by that. “You’re like a turtle.”

Azzi blinked. “Oh?”

“Because you’we safe. Like a shell.” Soleil didn’t even look up, just said it and turned back to the tank.

Azzi stared at her a moment longer, then swallowed and blinked fast. Paige reached out and laced their fingers together where Soleil couldn’t see. Just for a second. Just to say, I heard that too.

They wandered through the rest of the galleries slowly, drawn to glowing tanks and colorful fish. Soleil was getting quieter now, all her energy sinking beneath the surface. When they passed a small cart selling stuffed animals, she tugged at Paige’s shirt and pointed at a sea otter plush.

“That one,” she whispered. “So it doesn’t float away.”

Azzi handed over her card before Paige could say anything. “We’ll tie it to your wrist if we have to.”

As they made their way to the exit, Soleil holding her sea otter tight under one arm, Paige glanced sideways at Azzi. Her curls were a little frizzier now from the humidity, and there was a smear of something on her sweater, from Soleil’s snack probably.

She had never looked more beautiful.

“You okay?” Paige asked quietly as they stepped outside into the soft golden light of late afternoon.

Azzi nodded, smiling. “That was perfect. The otters, the jellyfish, the way Soleil called me her shell.”

Paige bumped their shoulders together. “You’re kind of my shell too.”

Azzi flushed, looked away, but her fingers brushed Paige’s again as they walked back toward the car.

And for just a moment, Paige let herself imagine a thousand days like this, soft, slow, full of light, and Azzi beside her for every one.

~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~

Azzi chose a cozy restaurant for dinner. Little Wild had mismatched chairs and tables with fairy lights twinkling everywhere.

“Mommy, it’s like the staws!” Soleil turned to Azzi, eyes wide. “Aftew we leawn about the ocean, can we do staws?” She asked entranced.

She beamed when Azzi answered with a small smile and nod.

The dinner was filled with nervous energy that Soleil ignored or didn’t notice. Azzi was deep in her head, overthinking everything, so it wasn’t surprising when she stumbled over ordering her lemon thyme chicken dish.

Once the waiter brought their food out, Paige had pity on her girlfriend.

“Soleil, we wanted to talk to you about something.” She started.

The girl looked up from her bowl of macaroni and cheese, fork frozen in the air. “Am I in twouble?” She asked, eyes squinted.

“What? No,” Paige said, head jerking back. “Azzi and I have been going on dates. Spending time just the two of us because we care about each other a lot.”

Soleil’s brows raised, “Because you want to know Azzi bettew?” She questioned, referencing what Paige had told her earlier.

“Yes, Sunshine.” The blonde paused. “Is that something you would be okay with?”

The girl looked between the two of them, then beamed. “So you dating like on the tv? Like Kwistoff and Anna?”

“Sort of like with Kristoff and Anna, baby.” Azzi said, relaxing.

Soleil’s gasp, smile somehow wider, “So you get to be my other mommy!” She exclaimed.

Azzi’s entire body tightened with tension.

“Well, people date to get married, like how Anna and Kristoff couldn’t get married right when they first met.” Paige started.

At Soleil’s frown, Azzi went to hold her. “I would love that, some day. But for now, me and your mommy are still learning each other. And we’d have to talk about that together.” She paused, looking into the girl’s blue orbs. “But no matter what happens with me and your mom, no matter how we feel about each other, I’ll always be here. I’ll always love you and care about you like family.”

“But you do evewything Mommy does.” She pouted. “You bwing me fwom school. We eat lunch togethew evewy day. We do big naps on the sofa. You came in my fowt. You awe my Mama!” She cried, fat tears falling.

Azzi’s eyes widened. “I do that because I love you, Soleil. And I would love to be your Mama one day. I would love that more than anything.”

“I want you to be Mama, now!” She whined. She wiggled her way out of Azzi’s arms and into her mom’s. “Mommy!” She wailed.

Brown eyes blinked back tears. She didn’t think Soleil had ever scrambled to get away from her.

“I’m gonna take her to the restroom really quick.” Paige said, already moving.

When they got to the back of the restaurant, Paige planted her daughter on her feet and squatted in front of her. “Soleil Katheryn,” She said firmly.

“She doesn’t want to be Mama!” She sobbed.

Paige hugged her tightly. “You need to breathe, baby. Come on, Sunshine. Breathe with Mommy.”

The pair breathed deeply together, arms wound tightly around each other.

“Do you wanna tell me what made you so upset?” She asked her.

Soleil nodded into her mother’s chest before letting it all pour out. “I be a good giwl, Mommy! The goodest giwl, but she doesn’t want me!”

Paige leaned back slightly. “That’s not true, baby. Azzi loves you so much. She thinks you’re the best girl, not just a good one.” She started warmly. “Do you remember the book? Can you tell me what makes a family, Soleil?”

“Love.” She mumbled, face buried in the soft fabric.

Paige chuckled, “Yeah, Lei. Love is what makes a family. Does Azzi still love you?” She questioned.

“She said she would always love me.” She whispered.

“Right, so that means she’s already your family. Does it bother you that you don’t have two mommies?” Paige asked hesitantly.

“Well, my fwiend Jade at school have two mommies. And when we wead ouw books, you do Mommy things, but Azzi does too.” Soleil explained.

Paige nodded. So, it wasn’t anything they had done or hadn’t done. She was just jealous. The blonde breathed out a sigh of relief. That would make Azzi feel much better.

“Do you think there’s anything you should say to Azzi?” Paige questioned.

Instead of answering, Soleil gently pushed away from her mother and walked back to their table.

“I was not being kind, Azzi. I’m sowwy! I just want you to be my Mama, and I was being mean. I was just mad, but I love you.” She said sadly.

Azzi scooped the girls into her arms, lowly saying something in her ear. Whatever it was made Soleil beam with joy.

After the two reconciled, the girl was glued to the woman. She offered spoonfuls of her macaroni and cheese and bites of her chicken tenders. When dessert came out, the three of them shared an ice cream with Soleil still cuddled snuggly in the brunette’s lap.

Azzi even climbed into the back seat with Soleil, the little girl gripping the tanned hand tightly. The drive back to Aurelia was filled with a comfortable silence.

When Paige moved to help Azzi out of the back and to grab Soleil, she was greeted with her daughter asleep in her girlfriend’s arms.

“That went better than I expected,” Azzi whispered as they rode the elevator up to the 57th floor.

Paige’s eyes widened in surprise. “That went well to you? She had a meltdown.”

“Yeah. But she knows things are changing in ways that she wants, but it’s not all the way what she wants.” Azzi explained.

Paige pulled Soleil from her arms once they reached Azzi’s floor. Soleil nuzzled her head into her mom’s neck before stilling.

“I didn’t cry because she hurt my feelings.” Azzi started. “I cried because I didn’t know she felt so strongly – loved me that much. It caught me off guard, but it was a pleasant surprise.”

Paige nodded, just letting her continue as the slowly trekked down the hallway.

“I know it’s too fast. I know I’ve only know you all for a month, but it feels like it’s been a year.” She gulped. “It feels like…it feels like she could be mine. I love her enough to call her mine. I’m just –”

“Scared?” Paige interjected. “I understand. We are moving fast. But I told you I’ve never felt anything like this for anyone before. Especially not this fast.”

The women stopped walking, arriving to Azzi’s apartment. “Do you think I handled it right?” She muttered, afraid of the answer.

“Yeah. It feels right, but you’re trying to protect her heart by pacing it. She knows you love her, and that’s the only thing that matters.”

The blonde leaned down to kiss her forehead. Then her cheeks. Then her nose. Then her lips.

“Thank you for making today perfect.” She said, foreheads touching. “I’ll see you Saturday for the gala, yeah?” Paige finished.

Azzi was in a bit of a daze as she nodded. She could definitely get used to doing this for the rest of her life.

~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~

Azzi fussed with her curls once more before going out to look in her full-length mirror.

Her hair was pinned up in a purposefully messy updo with a few pieces left down to frame her face nicely. Her makeup was soft and dewy with slight hints of pink on her cheeks and eyelids. Her dress was something beautiful, a silky dress Paige had sent up that afternoon. It had a high cowl neckline and an open back. There was a slit that went high on her thigh. It showcased her long, strong legs until ending on her gold heels. She wore dainty gold earrings and a gorgeous tennis bracelet.

It was the first gala she’d gotten ready for where she didn’t hear Grant’s voice in her head. She didn’t know if that had to do with the checklists she’d been doing with Paige, the affirmations on her bathroom mirror, or being Paige’s real girlfriend this time, but she wasn’t going to complain.

She smiled at the knock on her door. She was met with a bouquet of light pink peonies bigger than her head.

“Thank you, Paigey.” She smiled, taking the flowers to put them in water.

She looked back absentmindedly and stumbled. Paige looked amazing. She wore pink suede loafers that coordinated with her caramel-colored suit perfectly. There was a silk, ivory shirt that was perfectly tucked into her pants. The twisted gold chain shined in the overhead light, just like the gold huggies and diamond studs in her ears. But the best part was her hair. It was down for once. The gentle waves softened her look. She was perfect.

Azzi didn’t remember putting the flowers in water or getting in the elevator, but before she knew it, she smelled sandalwood and bergamot. Paige was buckling her in. Which was weird, she usually had Morgan drive to galas and events.

“You wanted to drive tonight?” She asked, confusion evident on her face.

Paige smirked, “I only use a driver when I need distance. This is real now; we don’t need any extra eyes.” She finished, placing her hand on her thigh.

Azzi didn’t know if she loved or hated the split on this dress. What she did know was that the warmth that she felt on her thigh was quickly spreading.

“Why you so quiet, Az?” Paige questioned, thumb softly stroking her leg.

“It’s our first event where I’m your actual girlfriend. I’m just a little nervous.” Azzi muttered.

A warm hand gripped her face, making Azzi face her. “There is no one else I would rather have here with me. Fuck anybody else who has shit to say about it.” Azzi’s eyes dropped and Paige’s grip tightened a bit. “You belong here. You belong with me. And if I hear you say something else negative about yourself, you’ll be receiving your first punishment. Understand?”

Azzi just nodded, breath heavy, thighs pressed together. When the grip tightened again, she opened her mouth. “Yes, Paige. I understand.”

“Good,” She said, pulling her in for a steamy kiss. “Let’s go.”

The hand that was previously on her leg now rested on Azzi’s lower back as Paige guided her into the Art Institute of Chicago. She had to remind herself to focus on keeping her jaw off the floor as she looked at the displays.

She led Azzi to their table, pulling the chair out for her. “I gotta go mingle, but I’ll be back in a minute, alright?” Paige asked, planting a quick peck on her lips.

Azzi straightened as she looked at the rest of the women at the table.

“Hi, I’m Charlotte LaSalle.” She smiled brightly. “My husband is the vice chairman at Kairos.”

Azzi returned the expression. “Azzi Fudd. I’m Paige’s girlfriend.”

“Oh, we know!” A new voice interjected. “I’m Francesca Reynolds. My fiancée is Gabriella Barrett; she sits on the board of directors. Gabi said she’s never seen Paige smile that much.”

Azzi blushed, “Thank you for saying that. We weren’t sure about going public, so I really appreciate that.”

“Susan van Ellington-Brooks. What do you, Azzi?” The woman was pretty, but she looked like she had a twenty-foot pole up her ass.

She unconsciously sat ramrod straight. “Oh, I’m Paige’s daughter’s private tutor right now, but I used to teach pre-k.”

“Ah, Paige is so generous, isn’t she? She always makes such unexpected choices. And it’s so important for children to have caretakers who feel passionate, even if those roles are temporary.” Everything the woman just said was supposed to be an insult disguised as a compliment.

Azzi didn’t know what came over her before she opened her mouth. “You’re right. Working for Paige is temporary. I’ll only be tutoring her until we decide to put her in school for the full day. But I should be having a new baby by then, so there would be no point in working.” She smiled.

Charlotte and Francesca stood quickly. “We’re going to the lady’s room. We’ll be right back!” They scurried away quickly.

Susan’s petty smile turned sharper. “I think it’s so lovely when people like Paige give back to those who aren’t normally apart of this world. Those who normally wouldn’t fit in our world.”

Azzi’s brows furrowed, but before she could respond, the older woman continued.

“Paige just has such diverse taste. It’s refreshing to see her bring someone so different into our world – helping us see more than one perspective.” She finished.

Azzi disguised the way her breath caught in her throat with a smile. “Yes, well Paige has been in this world for years, and couldn’t find anyone worthy of her time or attention. So, I’ll take that as a compliment.” She stood, Paige-like smirk on her lips. “It was nice to meet you, Suzanne.”

She walked away from the table, willing her ankles not to shake. She made her way to the restroom, rushing into the handicapped stall. She leaned over the sink and let her tears fall.

A few seconds later, a knock sounded at the door.

Azzi cleared her throat. “Someone’s in here.”

“It’s me.” Paige paused. “Open the door, Princess.”

She used a paper towel to dry the water lining her eyes before opening the door.

“What happened, baby?” Paige asked, stroking her cheeks softly.

Azzi sighed, knowing Paige wasn’t going to let it go. “Somebody said that it didn’t belong – that I was just a charity case for you. And – I don’t know. I’m just putting on a show. Being at these events just shows me that I don’t belong in this world.”

“Don’t say that, Azzi.” Paige said firmly. “You belong wherever I am.”

She yanked away. “I don’t even think you mean that Paige! You bought me all these clothes. You gave me a driver. You made me move houses. You’re trying to force me to fit into your world, but at the end of the day, you know I don’t belong.” She started pacing. “And in a few months, it probably won’t even matter. You’re going to get mad; you’ll see that Grant was right about me. You’re going to see how annoying, and stupid, and worthless. Then you’re going to take Soleil, and I’ll be all alone again.”

“What did I tell you, Azzi?” Paige said, cutting off her steps and gripping her firmly, not hard, just a way to show her she wasn’t going anywhere. “What did I tell you about talking about yourself like that?”

Azzi blinked out of her self-deprecating spiral. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to. She just said so many things.”

“It’s okay. I don’t care if I have to do it every day. I will remind you who you are.” She rubbed her hands up and down tanned arms. “You are enough exactly how you are. I gave you those things because you deserve the best, not because I wanted you to look a certain way.” Paige continued. “Now, we are going to go back out there, and you are going to show everyone how worthy you are. Do you understand?”

Even with Paige’s encouragement, Azzi was quiet for the rest of the night. She contributed in conversation when a question or statement was directed to her. She laughed when she heard something that was supposed to be funny.

But for the most part, she clung to Paige’s arm. So, when Azzi’s grip tightened, Paige’s alarm bells went off.

She followed Azzi’s gaze to a woman with too much filler and not enough Botox.

That bitch was the one who had said those things to Azzi.

She racked her brain for the woman’s company, relative, or spouse.

Geoffrey Brooks III. They were supposed to be signing a contract in two Wednesdays.

“I just need to talk to one more person, then we can go home. Is that okay, Azzi?” Paige questioned gently.

Azzi nodded, relief clear in her brown eyes. Until she saw where they were going. Paige’s rage grew as she felt Azzi stiffen the closer they got to the table.

“Geoffrey!” She exclaimed with faux excitement.

The older man looked up at the blonde from his seat. “Oh, honey. This is who I was telling you about! Paige is going to sign on as a backer for the company.” He smiled. “Paige, this is my wife, Susan. And this must be your lovely girlfriend! Geoffrey Brooks the Third.” He thrust his hand out for Azzi to shake.

But the squeeze on Azzi’s hip told her not to take it.

“You didn’t hear the change of plans, Geoff?” Paige asked. Faux concern dripping from her voice. “We were going to sign everything in a couple weeks, but your wife said some truly unkind things to my girlfriend. Really hurt her feelings.”

The man gaped, turning to his wife. “Susan!”

“No worries though. Azzi is so kind, so generous, so forgiving that she didn’t even want me to know that it was your wife who said anything.” Paige smiled at her girlfriend. “But I’m not.” She said, smile vanishing. “I’m pulling out. Tell your wife, thank you.”

Nobody would ever get to talk to Azzi like that and get away with it. Not even Azzi herself.

~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~

When they got back to Aurelia, Azzi was ready to just take a shower and knock out.

But she noticed the elevator going faster than normal. “Why are we going to your place?” She questioned.

“I told you, Azzi,” Paige started, looking at her in the mirrored doors. “If you spoke poorly about yourself, you would be punished. It’s punishment time.”

The elevator doors opened, and Paige guided them both to her bedroom. She walked into the bathroom and turned on the shower.

“Go clean up. I left some clothes for you in there.” Paige said, leaving her alone in the room.

Azzi washed up quickly, not wanting to make Paige angrier. She didn’t think Paige would ever punish her. She was always so good to her. Maybe it would be a one-time thing. If she didn’t put her hands on her, Azzi could justify staying anyway.

Her mind was racing as she thought about all of the things Paige could do to harm her.

“Let’s go.” Paige called from the bedroom.

She was standing in the bedroom in front of her mirror. She’d showered too. Her damp hair was left out. And droplets of water ran down her neck to the plain black sports bra she wore. Her toned torso was left on display. There was something quietly hot about the band of her boxers left peeking out of her sweatpants.

Paige looked like she belonged in one of those lifestyle magazines.

Azzi felt inferior in the thin, oversized t-shirt and loose boxers Paige had left for her.

“Come here.” The blonde stated. It wasn’t a request.

They stood in front of the mirror. Paige’s arms wrapped loosely around Azzi’s waist.

Paige’s voice was gentle, steady. “Look at yourself.”

Azzi tried to look away. Paige’s hand came up to cradle her jaw, holding her still — not with force, but with care.

“Eyes forward, Princess,” she said softly.

Azzi’s breath caught. Her eyes flicked up to meet Paige’s in the mirror.

Paige leaned down, her mouth brushing the shell of Azzi’s ear. “Repeat after me. Be good for me.”

Azzi nodded once.

Paige’s hand slid up from Azzi’s waist to rest lightly at her throat. Not constricting, just anchoring.

“I am not what they say I am.”

“I am not what they say I am.” Azzi repeated quietly. Paige kissed her temple.

“I am not small. I am not disposable.” The blonde said, firmly.

“I am not small. I am not disposable.” The feeling of lips on her shoulder burned through the fabric.

Paige paused, locking eyes in the mirror. “I deserve love without conditions.”

“I deserve love without conditions.” Azzi repeated shakily. A kiss to the corner of her jaw.

“I am allowed to take up space.”

“I am allowed to take up space.” Her voice was a little firmer than before. A kiss to her collarbone.

“I am not a burden. I am a gift.”

Silence.

“Say it, Azzi.”

“I am not a burden. I am a gift.” She whispered. A kiss to her spine, right between her shoulder blades.

“Again.”

“I am not a burden. I am a gift.” She said louder, like she was starting to believe it. A kiss pressed to her lower back.

“I am someone to be chosen. Over and over again.” She murmured, rising back up.

Azzi’s eyes filled with tears. “I am someone to be chosen. Over and over again.” A kiss to her neck, slow and reverent.

“I am not broken.”

“I am not—” Her voice cracked. “I’m not broken.” A kiss to her bare shoulder, gentle and lingering.

“You’re going so good, Azzi.” Breathed by her ear. “I am safe now.”

“I’m safe now.” She said, barely audible. A kiss to the crown of her head.

Paige guided her to the bed and climbed in after her. The brunette moved closer to her instinctively. Paige got comfortable behind her, one arm tucked under Azzi’s head, the other draped protectively over her waist.

“Say one more,” she whispered, breath warm against Azzi’s cheek.

Azzi blinked up at her. “What?”

Paige kissed the tip of her nose. “Say: I am yours.”

Azzi hesitated, then smiled, faint but real. “I’m yours.”

Paige kissed her slow, like a promise. “And I’m yours.”

Azzi exhaled against her skin and let herself sink fully into Paige’s arms. Wrapped up in love, and light, and finally, finally, safe.

#paige bueckers #azzi fudd #pazzi fics #pazzi #paige x azzi #terms of endearment

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going-to-ikea-for-the-fries · 1 year ago

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It's a Match! || 141 x Reader

[ Chapter 14 ] || [ Chapter 16 ]

Pairing: 141 x gn!Reader Words: 1.9K~ Summary: While overcoming recent heartbreak, you decide to join Tinder in search of a rebound. Your friends advise to just Swipe Right indiscriminately... What happens when 4 soldiers from the same squad match with you? a/n: white-knighting johnny.

Chapter 15: Mo leannan

Johnny isn’t stupid.

Or blind, for that matter.

Since the first time that Ghost went on that ‘date’, he’s noticed how different he’s been acting.

And weeks ago, he caught him and Gaz leaving base together in civvies. Civvies that neither of them would wear to go out for just a pint.

And either way, if they were going out for a pint, they’d have invited him and Price to go with.

No, this was different.

Personal.

And when they came back, and for the days after, he caught them sneaking glances at one another.

They’d exchange this sort of… look, that he couldn’t quite decipher.

But he could swear Ghost was smirking behind that balaclava of his…

And Gaz would bite his tongue before looking away.

It kept happening… The two of them disappearing for the night over the course of a few weeks, and coming back just in time for morning training.

Both of them way too glued to their phones…

His brain filled in the blanks as best as it could…

And it decided that they were in love, Ghost and Gaz.

That they were sneaking off base to get together in secret…

That they would text each other sweet nothings…

That they would exchanges glances to signify ‘I love you’s they couldn’t say aloud.

And, well, it was none of his business…

But it kind of stung a bit that he wasn’t trusted with it.

So, he tried probing.

Just a little.

Going up to Gaz during training and sort of nudging at him, poking him to see if he could get a reaction.

He made up some lie about having a date and asking Gaz if he needed help finding one too. The other lad said no with a decisive head shake.

Then, another day, he told him a story he heard of some sergeant, their age, who was caught in a relationship with a superior in their direct chain of command. And he didn’t miss the way Gaz’s eyes darted away before he muttered how stupid those soldiers were.

But Gaz didn’t fess up to anything…

And Soap wasn’t about to go up to Ghost and try the same…

So he froze his investigation for a moment.

And he picked it up right. now.

As he stands on the next aisle at the corner shop, getting a few snacks to stock up on, he hears Simon’s distinct voice… it seems to be coming from a phone.

Peeking over what does he see if not you, listening to a voice memo with the butt of your phone against your ear, thinking the volume is low enough not to bother anyone else.

And it is low, but Johnny has good hearing, and could recognize his L.T.’s voice anywhere.

The audio is long and you’ve been listening to it for a while and giggling at it occasionally as you put things into your basket that hung from the crook of your elbow.

He’s sure you’ve been listening to the audio for like 4 minutes now, just a constant flow of Simon’s voice into your ear, probably telling you some sort of story.

Now there was something Soap hadn’t considered.

An extra piece of the puzzle…

He recognizes your face from a couple months ago on Tinder, when all four of them matched with you and, jokingly, Johnny said to Price, Gaz and Ghost that he did all the work in getting you with Price…

There was no way Ghost and Gaz were meeting up with you, was there?

Could they just have a new friend? Or… could you be more?

Thinking of approaching you and asking you directly, Johnny only catches on too late that someone is beelining right for you.

A tall, lanky bloke, maybe 6ft1 or 6ft2, with a look like he’s ready to kill someone stops grabs you by the shoulder and spins you around.

Your eyes double in size and recognition. “Who do you think you are?” He asks you.

“What the fuck do you want, Ethan?” You complain as you tap around on your phone, probably pausing the voice memo and sticking your phone in your pocket.

“What do I want?” He asks you with a humorless laugh. “I want to find out why the fuck you’re suddenly having multiple other blokes over at the flat for the whole night.” He replies.

Johnny’s eyebrows raise as he watches the scene from around the corner into the aisle.

“Since when is that any of your business? And how do you even know? Have you been spying on me?” You ask him, taking a step back.

“Spying? No. But multiple times now I’ve gone to your flat to get the rest of my things and when I was in the elevator got surprised by seeing a bloke going in or out of there.” Ethan reveals.

“Oh, piss off, Ethan!” You retort.

“You’re not denying it.” He replies. “That’s it, innit? You decide to break up with me, saying how you “deserve better” and you’re “not happy” and now you’re going around with a bunch of other blokes?” He says and chuckles dryly again.

“Oh, you’re such a knobhead!” You insult him, your feelings slightly bruised. “How dare you, honestly?! I’m not-” You add.

“You selling yourself now, ‘s that it?” He asks mockingly. “There was an old one leaving in the morning a couple months ago… now there’s black one too… And I’m pretty sure I saw one with a mask the other day. Your clients’ too embarrassed to show their faces around you, huh?” He taunts you.

“I’m sure if I went back tomorrow I’d find another bloke slipping out the door, wouldn’t I?” He continues, his words venomous. “I saw three so far, but I’m sure there’s been more. How many, hm?”

“Oh, my, God… You’re disgusting!” You tell him as you take a step back again, your fingers tightening around the handle of your basket. “I’m not selling myself, not that I need to justify anything to you! Now get away from me!”

“What’s wrong, lovie? You’re embarrassed to say that the break-up was all just an excuse for you to go around and be a whore?” He continues taunting you.

Johnny ses the panic in your eyes and before he can think about it, he’s standing behind this ‘Ethan’, who seems to be your ex.

“They said ‘Get away from me’, I think that’s your cue, mate.” Johnny remarks with disdain dripping from his voice. Ethan turns and looks down to find Johnny.

Johnny’s a palm shorter than him, at only 5ft10, but he’s built like a brick shithouse. Big, beefy arms, broad shoulders, strong pecs… Not to mention he’s in full military garb, minus the vest and pistols.

His appearance is more than enough to strike a bit of fear in men taller than him… And Ethan is definitely intimidated.

“This doesn’t concern you. I’m talking to my partner.” Ethan tries defending himself.

“I don’t think so.” Johnny replies and stalks around him to your side. “Way I see it, they’re my partner.” He bluffs easily while snaking his arm around the small of your back.

He prays that you play along, silently hoping that you remember him, if nothing else, from Tinder.

“Yours?” Ethan sputters and glares at the two of you. You look up at Johnny like he’s your saving grace and lean closer to him, as a sign you recognize him and appreciate the help.

“Aye, mine.” Johnny replies with a curt nod. “This is that Ethan you’ve been telling me about, mo leannan?” [my love] Johnny asks you as his hand gently rubs your back.

Looking up at Johnny, you end up nodding in agreement. “Yeah…” You say softly, knowing that you can’t quite lie, because Ethan knows you well enough to pick up on it.

“I figured.” Johnny says as he looks at Ethan again, playing the part of the overprotective boyfriend pretty well.

“All these blokes ye’ve been ‘seeing’ out of their flat are my mates.” He explains and forces a crooked, not-quite-nice smile on his lips. “They were making sure they were alright, safe and sound, while I was overseas.” Johnny gestures to his outfit.

The realization that you are ‘dating’ a serviceman seems to extinguish whatever revolt was inside Ethan’s body immediately, like a candle that has been blown out.

Johnny lies like it’s second nature to him. His pulse and his breath are not wavering… And you can tell, because the way he has you pressed against him, you can hear both.

You finally realize what Simon told you months ago about “lying enough” while on the job and striving for honesty when he’s out of it… These soldiers are trained to lie like it’s nothing.

“And frankly, now that I saw ye accostin’em like this in a public place, I’m glad I didn’t skimp out on asking my mates to keep an eye on m’eudail.” [my darling] Johnny continues.

“Now, if you don’t mind. We have shopping to do before we go home. So how about ye piss off?” He concludes and smiles politely. “Or else this is gon’ get very ugly.” He adds and his eyebrows shoot up in a silent lunge of a challenge.

Ethan doesn’t seem to quite believe the lies, but at the same time he’s intimidated enough to not try and argue. So he grumbles under his breath, throws his hands up in an exasperated groan and turns on his heel to walk back out of the store.

Only when he’s fully out of sight and Johnny’s sure the coast is clear, does he unwrap his arm from around you. “Ye alright?” He asks you. “Sorry for the sudden manhandling, could tell ye needed a hand… and had to get ‘im away from ye somehow.” He adds, apologetically.

You nod and look away a bit sheepishly. “Yeah, I’m fine. Thanks.” You say softly as you fix your grip on your shopping basket. “Just never thought something like this would happen.”

Johnny nods as he looks at you, noticing your face seems extremely stressed, set into a grimace that he does not like. You’re clearly shaken up.

“Hey, it’s alright. He’s gone.” He tells you calmly and taps you lightly on the shoulder. “Do ye need me to walk ye home?” He suggests.

Nodding softly, you force yourself to smile. “I think… I think that’s a good idea.” You end up saying.

Johnny nods as well. “Want me to call Simon and Kyle to meet ye there?” He asks.

Your head snaps up to look at him and your eyes widen. “You… you know?” You ask him in surprise, your breath catching in his throat.

“They’re not as discreet as they wish they were.” Johnny says, once more lying through his teeth.

He would never admit it took him the better part of two months to realize Simon and Kyle were ‘together’, and that it only clicked they’re together with you right now… the confirmation having come from your stalker-y ex.

“Oh…” You say sheepishly and clear your throat awkwardly.

“It’s alright, I promise.” He assures you. “I’m not judgin in any way. They’re my mates, ye ken?” He adds in a surprisingly gentle tone. “Just tryin’ to help.”

From the stories you’ve heard out of Kyle and Simon, and even Johnny’s own bio on Tinder, you’d never have guessed he was so tender… They always described him as an anger-prone, grown-up class clown… And yet here he is.

Gulping down a breath, you nod. “Yeah… Please.. And I can… I can tell them what happened when we’re home.”

“Alright.” Johnny replies. “Ye wanna finish yer shopping first or d’ye wanna just go?” He asks you carefully.

“I… I’ll just get what I’ve already got in the basket… I want to get out of here…” You add as you shuffle toward the one register counter of the small corner shop.

“Right behind ye.” Johnny remarks as he follows after you.

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

taglist (CLOSED! not adding anyone else, sorry!): @daisychainsinknots , @bunnysdaydreams , @iite-cool , @lahniu , @pagesfalling , @tapioca-milktea1978 , @live-love-be-unique , @thelaisydazy , @littleghosthunter , @bossva , @emotion-no-hot-yes-hotel-trivago , @chamomiletealeaf , @ghosts-hoe , @kariiiel , @ltbarnes , @irregulardongyoung , @spacelia , @hayleybarnesx , @infpt-zylith , @xxshadowbabexx , @frescoisnotinthemilitary , @leeeenistop , @lucienbarkbark , @zombie-freak

@severenswife , @enarien, @agoodmoviekiss , @l0lziez , @whos-fran , @greatstormcat , @openup-yourmind , @neoarchipelago , @sodavrr , @cutiecusp , @lilliumrorum , @c-nstantine , @kneelforloki , @comeonatmebruh , @codsunshine , @waiting-so-long , @captainquake42 , @gazspookiebear , @mynameismisty , @reap3erslov3 , @reaper-chan666 , @poohkie90 , @kitwithnokat , @stick-the-dumbass , @mothsdrabbles , @justanerd1 , @thesinsoflust , @thriving-n-jiving , @blckbrrybasket

#ikea writes 💚#it's a match! fic #cod modern warfare #cod fanfic #captain john price #john soap mactavish #kyle gaz garrick #simon ghost riley #text story #cod x reader #call of duty x reader

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justarkive · 3 months ago

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⋆｡°✩ TABLE 3 , MASTERLIST

⋆｡°✩ pairing: pre!military jk x waitress/secret fuckbuddy!oc

back to main masterlist <

-Summary: Before Jungkook enlists in the military, his life takes an unexpected turn when he visits a local restaurant with friends and meets a waitress who doesn’t recognize him. Surprised by your lack of star-struck reaction, Jungkook finds himself drawn to your down-to-earth nature, especially his previous struggles with the pressure of constant drama on social media regarding his relationships. Little do you know, Jungkook is about to leave for the military, which inevitably bring’s complications to your connection… do you find a way to fix it?

status: complete!

smut, angst, fluff, humour, celeb au, military!jk x fuckbuddy!oc, profanity.

taglist : @jenniebyrubies @dreamersparacosm @darklove2020 @rayyrayy10 @elinaki92 @alana4610 @bjoriis @kaitieskidmore97 @cuntessaiii

for taglist check pinned !

#jungkook smut #jungkook x reader #bts smut #jungkook x you #jeon jungkook #bts

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lanadelspray02 · 1 month ago

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HOLD ME ANYWAY: CHAPTER 16

paige x azzi

Hey guys, I actually really love this chapter for some reason. I hope y'all like it. Let me know what you think, or any ideas that you'd like to see in the upcoming chapters? Maybe some live reactions if you feel up to it. Once again appreciate you all for reading and interacting <3

crossposted ao3 here

masterlist here

wc: 11,667

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

Azzi stirred to the soft creak of her bedroom door. Not the chaotic slam that sometimes accompanied Ruby’s more dramatic wakeups, not the sing-songy “SUN’S UP!” that usually meant a hurricane of toddler energy was about to descend, just a gentle shift of hinges and the unmistakable whisper of socked feet padding carefully across the hardwood floor. She didn’t even need to open her eyes to know who it was.

The bed dipped slightly near her knees as a small weight scrambled up with practiced ease, a tangle of limbs and huffing breath, followed by one tiny hand patting around blindly for her body and the other tugging insistently at the neckline of her sleep shirt.

“Mama,” came the whisper, feather-light and sticky with sleep. “I waked up.”

Azzi cracked open one eye, a smile blooming before she even focused. Ruby was a mess of bedhead curls, the left side flattened into a frizzy halo while the right stuck straight up like she’d been zapped. She wore mismatched pajamas, a short-sleeved unicorn top with rainbow hearts and a pair of cupcake-print pants that were definitely from a different set. Sparklehorn was nestled firmly under one arm like a plush bodyguard, its horn slightly bent and one ear flipped inside out. Ruby’s cheeks were flushed, her lashes still heavy with sleep, and yet her whole face was lit up with the quiet kind of urgency that only existed in small children ready to be the center of the universe again.

“Hi, baby,” Azzi murmured, reaching out without hesitation and pulling her close.

Ruby sighed, long and theatrical, as she flopped dramatically across Azzi’s chest, the kind of sigh that said she wasn’t thrilled to be awake, but now that she was, she fully expected to be entertained. Azzi smiled into her hair and wrapped the blanket a little tighter around them both, exhaling slowly as she pressed a kiss to her daughter’s forehead. There was something about Saturday mornings like this, when the house was still quiet, the blinds barely filtering the golden sun rising behind them, no pressing schedule or workouts or errands yet demanding her attention. Just her daughter, warm and soft and grounding in the way only Ruby could be.

They laid like that for a while, still and unbothered, the rhythm of their breathing syncing into something that didn’t need words. Eventually, Ruby lifted her head with the kind of seriousness that only a two-year-old could summon before 8 a.m.

“Mama?”

Azzi hummed. “Hmm?”

“Where Paigey?”

Azzi blinked slowly, that familiar smile returning before she could hide it. She brushed a palm down Ruby’s back, warm and slow. “She’s not here, lovebug. She stayed at her dorm last night.”

Ruby’s little eyebrows drew together, her frown pure betrayal. “Why?”

Azzi shifted slightly, tightening her arm around Ruby. “Because we just got back from our trip on Tuesday, remember? We’ve had practice, and last night she needed a quiet sleep at her place.”

Ruby didn’t look convinced. She groaned and flopped onto her back, arms thrown across her face. “But I missed her.”

Azzi tilted her head, brushing back a rogue curl. “You did?”

Ruby nodded with gravitas, lifting a finger to make her point. “I wike when she reads Sparklehorn stories. And when she do high fives. And she smell nice.”

That last part made Azzi laugh, not loud, not mocking, just a helpless huff into the pillow that she couldn’t quite hold in. “She does smell nice,” she agreed, wiping her eyes with the back of her wrist as she reached for her phone. “Wanna see if she texted?”

Ruby shot upright, suddenly fully alert. “Did she?!”

Azzi unlocked her phone, and right at the top was Paige’s message: a sleepy “good morning” text sent just after seven, with a grainy mirror selfie attached. Paige in Azzi’s hoodie, hair a complete mess, her grin half-awake and the caption just a few sleepy words: good morning, sleepyhead. missing u already. hoodie still smells like u, 10/10 comfort.

Azzi’s heart tugged in that quiet way it always did now when Paige showed up on her screen, familiar but never less electric. There was something about seeing her like this, half-guard down, wrapped in Azzi’s hoodie like it was armour and comfort all at once.

She turned the screen toward Ruby, who gasped like she was witnessing a royal portrait. “That’s my Paigey!” she squealed, clapping her hands over her cheeks. “She wear your jacket, Mama!”

Azzi nodded. “She does. She likes it.”

Ruby’s face turned serious. “Can we go see her?”

Azzi hesitated. “Maybe later, baby. Let her sleep a little more, okay?”

Ruby made a sound that was somewhere between a grunt and a sigh and slumped back into Azzi’s side. “Okay. But I wanna hug her lots.”

Azzi kissed her forehead. “I think she’d like that very much.”

The sun climbed higher as they lay there, the whole house still blanketed in quiet, the blinds throwing golden stripes across the wall. Azzi could hear the soft clink of wind outside, the distant creak of wood settling. Her parents hadn’t stirred yet. There was no clock ticking down in her mind, no weight of practice or appearances. Just Ruby, curled beside her, thumb rubbing the frayed end of Sparklehorn’s mane, small breath brushing Azzi’s collarbone. She hadn’t realised how much she needed a slow morning like this until she was in the middle of it.

Eventually, Ruby stirred again, wriggling out from the blanket. “I hungry. We do breffast now.”

Azzi sat up slowly, stretching before following her into the kitchen. Ruby dragged a stool across the tile with great ceremony, parking herself at the counter and announcing she would be the chef. They made scrambled eggs together, or rather, Azzi made them while Ruby enthusiastically cracked a questionable number of eggs and managed to spill flour on the floor, even though flour wasn’t technically involved. She fed Sparklehorn half her toast crust and declared the unicorn would be full until lunch.

Azzi, nursing a mug of coffee, watched her daughter with the kind of quiet awe she still hadn’t gotten used to. Ruby was chattering nonstop about “Paigey’s big game” and how she herself was going to be a UConn Husky one day, and how Grandpa yelled at the ref on the TV like it was a real person. Azzi just listened, nodding, her heart stretched wide open.

When Ruby finished eating, she climbed into Azzi’s lap and curled there, warm and full. Azzi glanced at her phone again, thumb brushing over Paige’s message, rereading it once more like it would imprint itself better that way. She typed a quick reply before she could overthink it.

We miss you too. Ruby asked where Paigey was before I even got out of bed. Hope you slept okay. Call us later?

She hit send, then looked down at Ruby, who was peering up at her with eyes still hopeful.

“She gonna come over?” Ruby asked.

Azzi kissed her curls. “I think she will.”

And deep in her chest, Azzi hoped it would be soon. Because as much as she was used to mornings with just Ruby, today felt different. Like there was a missing piece, one she hadn’t realised she relied on until it wasn’t there. Not because she couldn’t handle it alone. But because love, when it was real, moved into the quiet corners of your life and stayed there, even in something as simple as a Saturday morning in pajamas, with flour on the floor and Sparklehorn at the breakfast table.

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

Back at her dorm, Paige lay sprawled across her bed in the stillness of midmorning, limbs tangled beneath the soft weight of a throw blanket she hadn’t bothered to kick off during the night. She hadn't changed out of the hoodie she'd slept in, Azzi’s, of course — the sleeves long past her wrists, the faint scent of Azzi’s shampoo still clinging to the collar. Her hair was a mess, pushed up haphazardly into a bun that had definitely been tighter when she’d fallen asleep, and her phone sat balanced on her stomach, screen dim, the little “seen” receipt from Azzi’s last text still glowing faintly in her memory.

She hadn’t meant to sleep in, not really. But something about the quiet had held her in place this morning. There was no practice, no morning lift, no schedule that dragged her out of bed at the crack of dawn. She could just… lie there. And feel it.

The stillness. The shift.

Because something had shifted, she could feel it in the way she’d walked through the door last night and hadn’t even made it to her desk before her thumb was swiping through photos from the trip. In the way her heart had ached a little when she passed Ruby’s drawing on her nightstand. In the way she caught herself glancing at the empty space beside her pillow, like she was surprised Azzi wasn’t there.

She unlocked her phone and scrolled again, revisiting the same few snapshots like they might look different this time, one of the whole team laughing at dinner, one of Azzi curled up in the hotel bed post-win, her features half-buried in the pillow, soft and content and glowing from the inside out. Paige had taken it without Azzi knowing, just held the camera up and clicked, because something about that moment felt like something she never wanted to forget. Like proof. That Azzi was happy. That they were.

The soft whine of the dorm room door creaking open pulled her from the thought.

“Okay, why does it smell like heartbreak in here?” KK’s voice echoed across the space before Paige even looked up.

She groaned. “Can’t I suffer in peace?”

Nika followed right behind her, sunglasses still on despite being indoors, carrying two iced coffees and a bag of trail mix she’d probably stolen from the dining hall. “Did you sleep in your feelings again?”

“I slept in your hoodie,” Paige deadpanned, tugging the oversized hem down a little further. “And no, before you ask, I haven’t cried today. Yet.”

KK collapsed onto her own bed, dramatically kicking her feet in the air. “You’ve been in it lately. I’m talking heart-eyes emoji, soft-launch-on-the-grid kind of in it.”

Paige rolled onto her stomach and buried her face in the pillow. “I haven’t posted anything.”

“YET,” Nika said, sitting at the edge of the bed and tapping her coffee lid like a metronome. “Give it three more sleepovers and one emotional voicemail and suddenly we’re all calling her 'Step-Mum Paige' in the group chat.”

Paige lifted her head just enough to squint at her. “There’s a group chat?”

KK grinned. “Let’s just say... certain screenshots may or may not have made it in.”

Nika sobered slightly, nudging Paige with her knee. “You okay, though?”

Paige hesitated. The question landed deeper than she expected. Her eyes dropped to her phone screen, still lit up with Azzi’s name from the last message. The one where Ruby had asked about her before Azzi even got out of bed. Her chest tightened in that strange, familiar way again, not pain. Just that full, aching kind of knowing.

“I’m okay,” Paige said softly. “Actually… I think I’m better than okay. I just miss them. Not in a clingy way. It’s more like… like something’s shifted. I don’t even know when it happened. I was just in the middle of everything this week, practice, FaceTimes, travel, Ruby falling asleep on me and I realised… I feel different. Whole, maybe? Like I’m not holding my breath anymore.”

Nika nodded slowly, a rare quiet settling over her. “That’s kind of beautiful.”

Paige gave a small, self-deprecating smile. “Gross, right?”

“No,” KK said, unusually sincere from where she lay sideways across her bed, one arm dangling off the edge. “It’s kinda dope. Like watching one of those YouTube videos of a rescue puppy finding their forever home.”

Paige narrowed her eyes. “Did you just compare me to a dog?”

“Not just any dog,” KK corrected. “An emotionally stunted golden retriever.”

“I hope you choke on your trail mix.”

“WORTH IT,” KK yelled, tossing a peanut in the air and missing her mouth entirely.

Nika leaned back, taking a slow sip of her drink. “So what now, lover girl?”

Paige shrugged. “I don’t know. Go over there, maybe. Hang out. Eat pancakes. I already got a muffin from the bakery to bring with me just in case Ruby declares war on toast again.”

“She probably misses you more than Azzi does,” KK said.

Paige grinned. “That’s... probably true.”

There was a knock on the door, not dramatic, just a few quiet taps and Paige pushed herself upright, heart stuttering a little even before she checked her phone.

Azzi: You up? Ruby’s planning your pancake toppings.

Paige typed fast, thumbs flying.

Paige: Be there in 10. Tell her I vote for strawberries. And tell her Sparklehorn owes me a rematch.

She rolled off the bed and headed for her sneakers without hesitation.

KK whistled. “Whipped.”

Paige just smiled. “Completely.”

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

By the time Paige pulled into the Fudd driveway, the sun had crept higher in the sky, casting soft golden light across the front steps and the wide stretch of lawn still wet with morning dew. Her Jeep hummed quietly to a stop beside Azzi’s dad’s truck, and she killed the engine, spotting Ruby’s face pressed eagerly against the window just before it disappeared again with a squeal.

The front door was already swinging open by the time Paige reached the steps. Ruby came barreling out in socks and a tutu over her leggings, an outfit only a two-year-old could pull off without explanation — Sparklehorn clutched under one arm like a scepter.

“PAIGEY!” she shrieked, flinging herself into Paige’s arms with absolute trust.

Paige staggered back slightly but caught her with ease, laughing as she lifted her. “Whoa, hi! Did you miss me or something?”

Ruby nodded into her shoulder. “I made muffin idea.”

Paige blinked. “A muffin idea?”

Azzi appeared in the doorway, arms crossed and already smiling, a smudge of flour on her cheek and her curls tied up in a loose knot. “She’s been waiting since breakfast to tell you. You better come in before she explodes.”

Paige grinned at her over Ruby’s shoulder. “Hi.”

Azzi’s voice softened. “Hi.”

Inside, the kitchen smelled like vanilla and brown sugar, and Paige immediately noticed the setup, a mixing bowl already on the counter, flour canisters open, butter softening on a dish. Ruby wiggled out of her arms and climbed up onto the stool by the counter, announcing, “We do muffins now!”

Azzi leaned in and pressed a quick kiss to Paige’s cheek, her fingers brushing lightly over her hip as she passed. “You’re just in time for chaos.”

Paige grinned. “My specialty.”

They washed hands, tied dish towels around their waists like makeshift aprons, and got to work. Azzi measured, Paige stirred, and Ruby demanded control of the eggs, a risky move that ended with one slightly cracked on the counter and an enthusiastic round of clapping from Ruby like she’d just won a medal.

Paige wiped yolk off the edge of the bowl. “Chef Ruby is in charge today, I see.”

“I boss,” Ruby said, matter-of-fact. “And Sparklehorn wants blueberries.”

“Sparklehorn has excellent taste,” Azzi said dryly, passing her a small bowl of rinsed berries. “Don’t eat them all.”

“I share,” Ruby promised, popping one into her mouth before handing another directly to Paige with sticky fingers. “Here, Paigey.”

Paige accepted it with exaggerated reverence. “Thank you, ma’am. A gift from the queen.”

They moved around the kitchen in a rhythm that felt practiced, even though this was only the first time they’d cooked like this together. Azzi read from the recipe on her phone while Ruby dictated where the sparkles, a.k.a. sugar crystals should go, and Paige handled the heavy mixing. Every now and then, their fingers brushed, or Paige bumped Azzi’s hip playfully, just because she could. The flirtation was quiet but constant, humming underneath the domestic noise like a thread tying them together.

When the muffin tray was full, each cup a different chaotic ratio of batter and berry, Azzi slid it into the oven, wiping her hands on a towel and setting the timer.

“Now we wait,” she said, turning to lean back against the counter beside Paige.

Ruby clapped her hands, muffin batter still on her cheek. “Story time now?”

“Almost,” Azzi said. “But Mama and Paigey need to talk for a sec, okay?”

Ruby, very seriously, went to consult Sparklehorn.

Azzi turned toward Paige, voice quieter. “It’s been nearly a week since the trip. I know we’ve seen each other, practice, FaceTime, Ruby’s nightly report cards but... this morning just felt different. I think Ruby feels it too.”

Paige nodded, heart soft. “I felt it. I was lying in bed this morning and everything just felt... off. Like something was missing.”

Azzi bumped her shoulder gently. “Was it my hoodie?”

Paige laughed under her breath. “That was part of it.”

They were quiet for a second, listening to Ruby hum to herself by the fridge.

Then Azzi said, “I’ve been thinking... we’ve kept things close. Between us. The team’s seen bits of it, but Ruby hasn’t had the chance to really be part of that world yet. Not fully.”

Paige looked at her, reading the intent in her eyes. “Are you saying what I think you’re saying?”

Before Azzi could answer, Ruby piped up from across the kitchen. “I wanna go sleepover.”

Azzi blinked. “What?”

“With basketball team!” Ruby added, as if this had already been discussed in full. “I go too.”

Paige slowly turned toward Azzi, trying not to laugh. “Did you plant that?”

Azzi raised both hands. “Swear I didn’t.”

Ruby turned wide eyes on them both. “I go, yes? With Sparklehorn and my unicorn bag?”

Paige’s phone was already out. “I’m texting Nika.”

Azzi groaned. “She’s going to make it a whole thing.”

“Exactly,” Paige said. “A Sparklehorn-approved, dorm-wide, glitter-infused, probably-s’mores-included sleepover thing.”

Ruby gasped. “YESSS!”

Azzi pressed her fingers to her temples. “We’re never sleeping again, are we?”

Paige leaned in and kissed her temple softly. “Probably not.”

The timer beeped, and Azzi pulled out the tray just in time to see Ruby dragging a bean bag into the living room like she was preparing for war. Paige helped slide the muffins onto a cooling rack, stealing one the second Azzi looked away.

“Hey,” Azzi warned, swatting her hand. “Too hot.”

“Worth it,” Paige said, juggling the muffin between her palms before tearing off a piece and handing half to Ruby, who squealed in delight.

“Mmm!” Ruby beamed, cheeks already full. “Best ever.”

Azzi folded her arms, pretending not to smile. “Flattery gets you everywhere.”

Paige leaned closer, brushing a kiss to the corner of her mouth. “I know.”

The kitchen smelled like sugar and warm vanilla. Ruby was already planning her sleepover outfit out loud, and Azzi was trying not to roll her eyes while still grinning at every word. And Paige, Paige felt like she could’ve stayed in that moment forever.

They ate together at the table, muffin crumbs littering Ruby’s placemat and Sparklehorn propped up beside her like she had a seat at the table too. Ruby kept swinging her feet under the table, narrating each bite like she was a celebrity judge on a cooking show. Azzi barely got through her second muffin without laughing every few seconds.

But somewhere between the sugar rush and the toddler ramble about who would win in a race between Sparklehorn and a dragon, Ruby’s energy dipped hard. One second she was giggling with her mouth full of crumbs, the next she was curled up in Paige’s lap with heavy eyes and a hand clutching the edge of her hoodie.

“She’s crashing,” Azzi murmured, watching her with something like wonder.

Paige nodded, smoothing Ruby’s curls back from her forehead. “Sugar comedown. Want me to take her upstairs?”

Azzi stood slowly, stretching. “I’ll clear the table.”

Paige shifted Ruby gently, cradling her small body against her chest. The little girl barely stirred, just sighed and melted into the contact like Paige had been carrying her for years. The weight of her felt easy. Familiar.

Upstairs, Azzi’s room was already dim and quiet, the blinds drawn halfway against the late morning sun. Paige tucked Ruby into the small bed by the window, pulled the unicorn blanket over her, and leaned in to whisper, “Sweet dreams, baller.”

Ruby mumbled something that might have been “Go Huskies,” and Paige smiled.

When she turned around, Azzi was standing in the doorway, one arm braced against the frame, just watching her.

The air shifted.

It was the first time all day they’d been alone. No Sparklehorn. No muffins. No distractions.

Azzi didn’t move right away. Her gaze dropped briefly to the hem of the hoodie Paige was still wearing, hers, then to the way Paige’s fingers had lingered a moment too long on the edge of Ruby’s blanket. Her voice was soft, almost shy. “You’re good with her.”

Paige crossed the room, slow. “She’s easy to love.”

Azzi bit her bottom lip, eyes holding hers. “So are you.”

That was all it took.

The door clicked shut behind her, and suddenly they were chest to chest, the few feet of air between them vanishing like smoke. Paige’s hand slipped to Azzi’s waist, her thumb brushing over the thin fabric of her tank top like it wasn’t enough, because it wasn’t. Not since that night. Not since Azzi had climbed onto her in a quiet hotel room and looked at her like she’d never wanted anyone more in her life.

Azzi’s breath hitched. Her hands slid under the hem of the hoodie, fingertips grazing warm skin. “We shouldn’t.”

Paige leaned in, just enough to let her lips hover near Azzi’s ear. “I’ve been trying not to kiss you since I walked through the door.”

Azzi shivered. “Same.”

It was a near-miss kiss, the kind where you think maybe it’s going to happen, the pull is right there, but the moment slows. Azzi’s hands gripped the front of the hoodie tighter, and Paige pressed her forehead to Azzi’s like she needed the contact to stay standing.

Their breathing synced. Their pulses did too.

“We can’t start something we can’t finish,” Azzi whispered.

“I know,” Paige said, voice rough. “But god, Az... I want to.”

Azzi smiled, breathless. “Me too.”

She pressed a slow kiss to Paige’s jaw instead, one that burned hotter for what it wasn’t. Then another, just below her ear. Paige’s hands slipped under her top, palms warm against the dip of her back, but they didn’t move further. Not yet. Not here.

They stood like that for a long moment, hearts beating against each other in soft, steady rhythm.

Finally, Paige pulled back with a teasing exhale. “We’re gonna combust.”

Azzi chuckled, smoothing down the front of Paige’s hoodie. “Not tonight.”

“No,” Paige said, brushing a knuckle across her cheek. “But soon.”

They kissed once more, soft and restrained then tiptoed back downstairs, where the scent of muffins still lingered, and Ruby slept like a queen in her upstairs fort.

The heat between them didn’t fade. It just waited.

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

The TV droned on in the background, the low hum of a cooking show filling the space with just enough sound to keep things from feeling too quiet. Paige wasn’t really paying attention, though. She was stretched across Azzi’s couch in that impossibly relaxed way she always managed to find, legs kicked up, one arm slung behind her head, hoodie sleeves pulled over her hands. The fabric still smelled faintly like Azzi’s laundry detergent, and that alone had Paige sinking further into the cushions like she never wanted to move again.

Azzi sat cross-legged beside her, scrolling through something halfheartedly on her phone, hair damp from her shower and curled loosely around her shoulders. Her skin still held that post-steam warmth, and she’d changed into a pair of soft cotton shorts and another tank top that clung just enough to make Paige keep stealing glances, the shape of her collarbones, the exposed curve of her thigh where the hem rode up. Paige tried to play it cool, but her eyes gave her away every time Azzi shifted.

“You’re staring,” Azzi said without looking up.

“I am,” Paige agreed, no shame in her voice.

Azzi arched a brow. “Bold of you to admit it.”

Paige grinned. “You’re sitting in front of me like that. In what universe am I not supposed to stare?”

Azzi smirked, but didn’t argue. “We should probably pack for tonight,” she said, finally setting her phone down. “Before Ruby wakes up and wants to wear her princess dress to the sleepover.”

“I mean, I support it,” Paige said, slowly sitting up. “Matching tiaras and everything.”

Azzi pushed to her feet with a quiet stretch, yawning into her shoulder. Paige watched the line of her back curve, the way her tank lifted to flash just a sliver of bare skin, and suddenly found herself moving too, not because she cared about pajamas, but because watching Azzi move through her space like this, casually intimate and comfortable, did things to her. Things that had only gotten worse since that night in the hotel. Since the moment Azzi fell asleep in her arms, skin on skin, warm and soft and hers.

Upstairs, Azzi pulled open a dresser drawer and started rifling through options while Paige flopped onto the edge of the bed like she lived there. One leg folded under her, the other stretched out across the mattress. She didn’t say anything at first, just watched Azzi move around the room, watched the little expressions she made when she was thinking. Paige wanted to memorise all of them. She already had.

Azzi held up a pair of grey sweatpants and a plain navy long-sleeve. “Comfy enough?”

Paige made a buzzer sound. “Boring. Try again.”

Azzi snorted, tossed the set back in the drawer, and pulled out her oversized UConn sleep tee, the one Paige hated almost on principle.

“If you wear that,” Paige said, “I’m going to stage an actual intervention.”

“What’s wrong with it?” Azzi asked, feigning innocence as she shook the shirt out.

“It’s a shapeless crime against your ass, that’s what.”

Azzi laughed, full-bodied and quiet. “So you’re saying I should wear something more… flattering.”

Paige leaned back on her elbows. “Flattering. Distracting. Potentially lethal. You know. Options.”

Azzi rolled her eyes, but a smile played on her lips as she dug deeper into the drawer, pulling out a folded set she hadn’t worn in a while — pale pink silk with white stripes, the fabric soft and light between her fingers. She hesitated for a moment, holding it up for Paige to see.

“These?”

Paige sat up instantly, eyes lighting with approval. “Oh, yes. Immediate yes. Final answer.”

Azzi gave her a look. “You’re that easy?”

Paige didn’t even blink. “Around you? Tragically.”

There was a pause, something taut and unspoken settling between them. Then Azzi, very deliberately, glanced toward the bedroom door. “Ruby’s asleep down the hall,” she said, voice quieter now.

“We’ve got at least twenty minutes,” Paige replied, equally soft.

Azzi turned back to the dresser, pulled the pink set free from its folds, and without another word, peeled her tank top off over her head.

Paige’s breath caught. “Oh my god.”

Azzi didn’t rush. She unhooked her bra next, movements smooth and practiced, not once looking back at Paige. The silk pajama top came next, slipped on with a graceful shrug, buttoned slow and careless like she was alone, like she knew Paige was watching and didn’t care in the slightest.

“You’re changing in front of me now?” Paige asked, her voice barely a whisper, a little rough around the edges.

Azzi finally glanced over her shoulder, eyes sharp with amusement. “Why? You nervous?”

Paige blinked. “No. Just trying not to combust.”

Azzi smirked and shimmied out of her shorts, stepping into the matching pink bottoms. They hugged her hips in a way that should’ve been illegal. She adjusted the waistband, then smoothed her palms down the fabric with a casual grace that had Paige sitting very, very still.

“You good?” Azzi asked, fully aware.

“Not even a little,” Paige muttered.

She held out a hand. “Come here.”

Azzi crossed the room slowly, deliberately, and let Paige pull her right into her lap. Her legs folded easily, thighs bracketing Paige’s, hands settling against her shoulders. Paige’s fingers landed on her waist, low, just under the silk hem, brushing along warm skin in lazy, reverent circles.

“You’re so goddamn pretty,” Paige whispered, head tilted back slightly to meet her eyes.

Azzi leaned in, lips barely brushing hers. “You act like you haven’t seen me before.”

“Not like this,” Paige murmured, and kissed her, slow and warm and aching like she’d been waiting hours to do it. Azzi melted into it without hesitation, one hand fisting gently in the front of Paige’s hoodie, the other curling behind her neck. Their mouths moved together with that quiet urgency of two people trying to be good but really not wanting to be.

Azzi pulled back first, breath shallow. “We have to stop.”

“We’re just kissing,” Paige argued weakly.

“You’re one thigh grab away from me breaking every rule I set for myself.”

“I’ve already broken a few,” Paige admitted.

Azzi rolled her eyes, still smiling. She slid off Paige’s lap reluctantly and turned toward the closet to grab a tote bag, but Paige caught one last glimpse of her from behind — the silk shorts riding up just slightly with every step.

“You’re doing it again,” Azzi called without turning around.

“Not my fault your ass is perfect.”

Azzi laughed and shook her head, tossing a pair of socks into the bag. “You’re impossible.”

“You’re irresistible.”

“Stop flattering me or I’m going to wear the UConn tee just to punish you.”

Paige gasped. “You wouldn’t.”

“Try me.”

They traded clothes and jokes and soft glances as Azzi finished packing, the air thick with everything they weren’t quite letting happen, not yet. But the heat lingered in every brush of hands, every glance that stayed too long. Paige didn’t even care what they watched tonight or how little sleep they’d get at the dorm. All she could think about was Azzi in those striped pink pajamas… and the way Azzi had let her see every inch of herself before slipping them on.

And how that small act, casual, confident, quiet — felt more intimate than anything she’d ever known.

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

Back downstairs, the couch was still warm from where they’d left it, but now Paige was sprawled across it sideways, one socked foot dangling off the edge, the other pressed against Azzi’s thigh as they sat nestled together under a shared blanket. The TV played something neither of them were watching, just soft dialogue and background noise while the sun dipped lazily toward the late afternoon. Paige rested her head in Azzi’s lap, hair fanned across the couch cushion, eyes half-lidded in contentment. Azzi absentmindedly ran her fingers through the strands, the motion slow and rhythmic, like she could do it forever.

“You’re comfy,” Paige murmured.

“You’re clingy,” Azzi replied, but her voice was teasing, not annoyed.

“Same thing,” Paige said, lifting one hand and gently pinching Azzi’s knee. “Ow.”

Azzi retaliated by poking her in the ribs with two fingers. Paige flinched, jerked upright with a half-yelp, and caught Azzi’s wrist with mock outrage.

“Okay,” Paige said, dramatically. “You’ve declared war.”

Azzi smirked. “I’m undefeated.”

“Not for long.”

She launched herself forward, catching Azzi off guard, and they tumbled sideways onto the cushions in a tangle of limbs and laughter. Paige dug her fingers into Azzi’s side, tickling her mercilessly while Azzi kicked at the blanket, shrieking with helpless giggles.

“Paige—Paige! Stop! I’m gonna pee!”

“Then surrender!”

Azzi gasped, red-faced and breathless. “Never!”

They were still wrestling half-heartedly when a familiar little voice cut through the commotion like a trumpet.

“HEY!”

They both froze mid-laugh, glancing up in perfect sync. Ruby stood at the bottom of the stairs, rubbing one eye with her fist, curls wild and sleep-dented, Sparklehorn dangling from her other arm.

“Why nobody wake me?” she asked, clearly offended.

Azzi pushed herself upright, trying to catch her breath. “You looked too peaceful.”

Ruby stomped over, clambered onto the couch with zero grace, and threw herself on top of them like she was diving into a pile of leaves.

“You squishin’ me,” Paige groaned, but she didn’t move. Ruby snuggled between them, flopping one arm across Azzi’s stomach and the other across Paige’s chest.

“You was being loud,” she said seriously. “I heard kissy noises.”

Azzi choked. Paige bit her knuckle.

Ruby wriggled upright again. “Can we go now? I wanna go to the basketball sleepover.”

“We gotta get you ready first,” Azzi said, brushing curls out of her daughter’s face. “Bath, clean pajamas, pack your bag.”

Ruby looked at Paige. “You help?”

“Of course,” Paige said. “But only if you promise not to squish me again.”

“No promise,” Ruby replied, grinning.

Upstairs, bath time was a whirlwind of bubbles and squeals. Paige knelt on a folded towel by the tub, sleeves rolled up as she helped Azzi rinse the shampoo from Ruby’s curls. Azzi moved with practiced ease, scrubbing and humming softly, while Ruby kicked water with delight and tried to get Sparklehorn to float on a loofah like a raft.

“This unicorn is a liability,” Paige said as Sparklehorn capsized again.

“She’s doing her best,” Ruby defended, gently wringing her tail.

Once dried and bundled in a towel, Ruby was deposited on Azzi’s bed with a selection of pajamas laid out in front of her. She examined each one with solemn care, the purple unicorn onesie, the cupcake set, the one with dinosaurs and glitter stars before finally selecting the light pink long-sleeved top and polka dot bottoms. Sparklehorn, she announced, would also be wearing pink.

“Great choice,” Paige said, helping her tug the shirt over her head. “Very on theme.”

Ruby grinned, bouncing on the mattress as Azzi folded up her sleeping bag and packed her overnight backpack with essentials — backup pajamas, toothbrush, juice box, and a Ziplock of mini marshmallows Ruby insisted were “emergency snacks.”

When everything was packed, Ruby held up Sparklehorn like a trophy. “We ready!”

Azzi scooped her up, planting a loud kiss on her cheek. “Almost. Just gotta put your socks on.”

“I do it,” Ruby said with exaggerated confidence.

Paige handed her the fuzzy purple pair. “You got this, champ.”

Ruby bent with intense focus, tongue poking out as she wrangled them on backwards, and Paige caught Azzi watching from the side of the room, arms crossed, soft smile tugging at her mouth.

“What?” Paige asked.

Azzi shook her head, eyes still on her daughter. “You’re just… good at this.”

“At what? Sock duty?”

“At this,” Azzi said, voice quieter. “With her. With me.”

Paige walked over and slid her arms around Azzi’s waist, her voice barely above a whisper now. “I like where I am.”

Azzi leaned into her, nose brushing Paige’s cheek. “Me too.”

Down the hall, Ruby yelled, “Can we go now?!”

Azzi sighed, forehead falling against Paige’s shoulder. “We’re raising a dictator.”

“She gets it from you.”

Azzi swatted her. Paige kissed her temple. And together, hand in hand, they headed down the hall to load the car, their little world packed into one glittery unicorn backpack and a sleepy toddler already making plans to stay up “forever.”

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

The sun had dipped low behind the dorms by the time Azzi pulled into the visitor lot outside Paige’s building. Ruby, tucked into the back seat in her pink pajamas and fuzzy socks, had been chattering the whole way there, mostly about Sparklehorn, her small sleeping bag, and how she planned to “win the sleepover.” Azzi wasn’t entirely sure what that meant, but Paige, sitting in the passenger seat and trying not to laugh, assured her it probably involved snacks and showing off.

Inside, the dorm was already alive with sound. Music pulsed gently from a Bluetooth speaker somewhere down the hall, nothing too chaotic, just enough to buzz softly against the edges of the chatter. Laughter echoed faintly from one of the rooms as Azzi and Paige stepped inside, Ruby sandwiched between them, clutching Sparklehorn in one hand and her backpack in the other.

They didn’t even make it halfway to Paige’s dorm before KK popped her head out from behind a doorframe. “Is that our guest of honor I hear?”

Ruby peeked around Paige’s leg, hesitating, but then her face lit up with recognition. “KK!” she whispered excitedly. “Sparklehorn ‘member you!”

KK crouched down dramatically, hands on her knees, and whispered back loud enough for the whole hallway to hear, “Of course she does. We had a very important unicorn briefing near the bus, remember?”

Ruby nodded solemnly, clutching Sparklehorn a little tighter. “She say you funny.”

Azzi smiled, brushing her daughter’s curls back from her forehead. “She’s not wrong.”

Ruby took a few steps forward and extended Sparklehorn in KK’s direction like a knight presenting a royal sword. KK bowed her head solemnly. “It is still an honour, Sparklehorn.”

Ruby giggled, her whole body shaking with delight.

By the time they made it into Paige’s dorm, most of the team had already gathered. Blankets were draped across chairs and bean bags had been dragged in from other rooms. There was a pile of mismatched pillows in the corner, and someone had already started stringing fairy lights across the windows.

“Okay, wait, we’ve gotta make room,” Caroline said, jumping up from the floor. “Make way for the star!”

Ruby blinked at her, then whispered to Paige, “Is she a princess?”

“Close,” Paige murmured, biting back a grin. “She’s team royalty.”

Ruby looked impressed.

The team welcomed her in with a kind of soft reverence, everyone easing their tone, their body language shifting. Ruby was still mostly glued to Paige’s side at first, peeking up at the taller players with a mix of curiosity and caution, but it didn’t take long for her to start relaxing. She sat in Paige’s lap while Caroline painted her nails a cotton candy pink, explaining very seriously that Sparklehorn also needed a matching color. KK danced around the room with a plastic mic and made exaggerated poses that had Ruby in stitches. Nika scooped her up like a rag doll, twirling her in slow, careful spins before collapsing into a beanbag together. Amari handed her a tiny bowl of microwave s’mores, and Ines helped her arrange all the pillows into a “castle” she and Sparklehorn could rule from.

Azzi sat with her back against the wall, knees up, arms loosely wrapped around them as she watched it unfold. Paige was across the room now, crouched beside Ruby as she “hosted” a tea party for Sparklehorn and a collection of mismatched dorm plushies. Azzi felt it in her chest, that same rush of something deep and steady she hadn’t quite found words for yet. Not just love, but something more, something wrapped in layers of other things: gratitude, awe, a low thrum of disbelief that Paige was here, doing this, not just for her but for Ruby.

Azzi didn’t even notice Paige watching her until she glanced up and caught her eye. Paige grinned, crooked and slow, then excused herself from the tea party with a whispered promise to return.

She made her way over, crouching behind Azzi on the floor, her hands resting gently on Azzi’s shoulders before she leaned in and brushed her lips just behind her ear. “You think Ruby’s good now?”

Azzi hummed, glancing toward her daughter, who was now busy assigning Sparklehorn the role of ‘team coach.’ “She’s good. Pretty sure she’s fully integrated.”

Paige smiled against her skin, her voice lower now. “Cool. Then I’m gonna duck out for a quick shower.”

Azzi turned her head, only to find Paige still inches from her face. “You just took one earlier before you came over.”

“I know,” Paige said, cocking a brow. “But now I’m surrounded by glitter, marshmallows, and toddler. I feel like Sparklehorn’s been chewing on my hair.”

Azzi laughed softly. Paige leaned in even closer, brushing the tip of her nose along Azzi’s jaw. “You could come with me, you know,” she murmured, her tone all velvet and tease. “Help me get the glitter out.”

Azzi gave her a warning glance, but her smile betrayed her. “You’re impossible.”

Paige’s mouth barely ghosted across her cheek before she stood up and backed away, voice innocent again. “Think about it.”

Azzi shook her head, biting back a grin as she watched her go, catching the sway of her hips as Paige disappeared down the hall. She took her time, walking barefoot, towel in one hand, the waistband of her sweatpants riding low like she was daring Azzi to stare. And Azzi did. Every step of the way.

Back inside the room, Ruby called out, “Mama, you gotta meet Sparklehorn’s team!” and Azzi forced herself to pull her attention back, grounding herself in the moment, but her mind still lingered, humming with the echo of Paige’s voice, the suggestion laced behind it, and the way her touch still tingled against her skin.

And the night had only just begun.

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

The dorm had mellowed into that warm, golden hush that only came after hours of laughter. Fairy lights blinked softly against the windows, their glow casting lazy shadows across the blanket fort still standing like a crooked monument to teamwork and chaos. Pillows were everywhere. Glitter lingered in the carpet. A bag of half-eaten marshmallows lay forgotten on a beanbag beside a pair of mismatched socks, and someone’s playlist, something acoustic, barely there drifted through the quiet hum of the room.

Azzi sat curled on the edge of the makeshift couch pile, one arm wrapped loosely around her knees, the other stretched out beside her where her fingers brushed against Paige’s. Paige sat close, her legs stretched long in front of her, Ruby’s sleeping bag still half-folded behind them like a forgotten invitation to rest.

They hadn’t spoken much since the energy of the evening began to settle, but the silence between them wasn’t uncomfortable. If anything, it felt weighted in a different way, heavier, more intimate. The kind of silence that comes when there’s too much to say and not enough time to say it all at once.

Paige shifted a little closer, her knee pressing gently against Azzi’s. She glanced toward the rest of the room, where Ruby was giggling across the floor with KK, chasing a rogue balloon with Sparklehorn bouncing from her elbow.

“She’s really… loved,” Paige said softly.

Azzi’s eyes followed her daughter. “Yeah,” she murmured. “She is.”

There was a pause.

“But,” Paige added gently, “not many people know she’s yours.”

Azzi didn’t respond at first. Her gaze stayed locked on Ruby, like watching her was the only way to keep the fear at bay. She thought to herself, how Paige always knows what she's thinking. Then she exhaled slowly, her shoulders curling slightly inward.

“I used to imagine it,” Azzi said, voice low. “What it would look like. Telling the world. Owning it. Standing there and saying, ‘This is my daughter.’ And then I’d get so scared I couldn’t breathe.”

Paige’s heart clenched. She didn’t speak. Just reached over and slid her fingers through Azzi’s, letting her hold on.

Azzi’s eyes shimmered in the soft light. “People love to tear girls down. Especially ones like me. Black. Young. In sports. With a spotlight. I knew if it ever got out, it wouldn’t be about Ruby. It’d be about what it meant for my future. Or my character. Or some narrative I didn’t write.”

Paige nodded, her grip tightening. “You wanted to protect her.”

“I still do,” Azzi whispered. “I wanted her to be safe. To just be a kid. I didn’t want her first Google search to be a headline about me. I didn’t want the world to twist something beautiful into something scandalous.”

Paige’s voice was quiet but steady. “You did protect her. You still are.”

Azzi looked down at their hands, thumb brushing slowly over Paige’s knuckles. “But sometimes I wonder if I’ve also hidden her too much. If I’ve made her feel like a secret.”

“She doesn’t feel like a secret,” Paige said. “She feels like the center of everything.”

Azzi blinked, and for a second, Paige wasn’t sure if she was going to cry or kiss her.

“I just never imagined someone like you would be part of this,” Azzi said softly. “Someone who didn’t run. Who just… leaned in.”

Before Paige could answer, a familiar voice called out across the room, interrupting them.

“Paigey!”

Ruby barreled toward them at full speed, curls bouncing, Sparklehorn gripped under one arm like a knight’s lance. Paige barely had time to brace herself before Ruby flung into her lap, knocking a laugh out of her.

“We play game now!” Ruby demanded, already trying to climb onto her knees.

Paige blinked, amused. “Game? What kind of game?”

“Jumping game,” Ruby said with deadly seriousness.

Azzi sighed, crossing her arms loosely. “Is that the one where she tackles you until your lungs collapse?”

“Pretty sure it qualifies as cardio,” Paige said, wrapping her arms around Ruby as she bounced dramatically on her thighs. “Let’s go, mini-MVP.”

Azzi stayed standing for a moment longer, smiling to herself as Ruby giggled and squealed. Then she felt someone settle beside her on the edge of the couch. Nika, still in her sweats, hair up in a loose bun, water bottle balanced between her hands.

“She’s obsessed with her,” Nika said without looking over. “Like, next-level obsessed.”

Azzi chuckled, folding her arms tighter. “She doesn’t do that with just anyone.”

“I figured,” Nika said, her voice softer than usual. “She clung to you for days at first. Now she’s practically leading with Sparklehorn.”

Azzi smirked. “That’s how you know you’ve been accepted.”

There was a pause, comfortable, if a little tentative. Nika wasn’t the kind of person who pried. But she noticed things. And now, with the couch sun-warmed behind them and Paige’s laughter echoing across the room, she tipped her head toward Azzi and asked casually, “So… do you have anything planned?”

Azzi blinked. “Planned?”

“For her birthday,” Nika said. “It’s next week, right? Game day?”

Azzi nodded slowly. “Yeah. Wednesday.”

Nika nudged her knee with hers, not quite teasing. “You gonna do something? I feel like she’s not the type to make a big deal about it. But also... she kinda deserves one.”

Azzi’s lips twitched, and she looked down at her hands. “I’ve actually been thinking about it a lot.”

“Yeah?”

“I want to surprise her,” Azzi said quietly. “Bring Ruby to the game for the first time. Have her dressed up in a little UConn outfit with a number 5 jersey. Get her a mini headband or something.”

Nika’s whole face lit up. “Stop. That’s actually adorable.”

Azzi laughed under her breath. “I just thought… she’s already such a big part of Paige’s world. And Paige has done so much for both of us, even if she doesn’t realise it. I want her to feel that. That she’s ours, too.”

Nika nodded slowly. “You gonna tell her beforehand?”

Azzi shook her head. “I want it to be a surprise. Let her see Ruby in the crowd, full jersey, maybe holding a sign or something. I want her to look up and just—know.”

Nika blinked. “Wow. You’re going all out.”

Azzi smiled shyly. “I want to. I was thinking I’d ask Caroline or Ines to help Ruby make a birthday card after practice. Something messy and sparkly. Maybe get her to say something cute into a video. You know how she is.”

“Absolutely chaotic,” Nika agreed fondly. “But, like, in the best way.”

Azzi glanced back across the room. Paige was on her back now, Ruby perched triumphantly on her stomach like a reigning queen, Sparklehorn tucked against her side. They were both giggling, completely tangled together in a pile of limbs and affection.

“I want her to feel like she’s home,” Azzi murmured. “That she doesn’t have to hold anything back anymore.”

Nika bumped her shoulder gently. “I think she already feels that, Az.”

Azzi smiled to herself. “Maybe. But it doesn’t hurt to make it official.”

“Let me know if you need help with the plan,” Nika said, standing. “I’m good with glitter glue.”

Azzi raised an eyebrow. “You?”

Nika shrugged. “Okay, I’m good at bossing people who are good with glitter glue. Same difference.”

They both laughed, soft and easy.

Then Azzi turned her attention back to Paige and Ruby, Paige pretending to be defeated, Ruby bouncing on her triumphantly, squealing that she’d won the "Paigey Wrestling Match." And something deep in Azzi’s chest unfurled. Like maybe, finally, she didn’t have to hold the best parts of her life in separate hands anymore, like she wasn't afraid anymore, not when Paige was by her side.

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

Ruby’s laugh rang out across the room as she scampered off Paige’s lap, cheeks flushed pink and curls flying behind her. She made a beeline for the pile of throw pillows stacked near the corner and flung herself into them with dramatic flair, Sparklehorn held triumphantly overhead like a trophy. “I win again!” she declared, barely catching her breath. Paige groaned like she’d been mortally wounded, sprawling onto her back with one arm flung over her eyes. “I’ve been defeated by a two-foot-tall toddler with a unicorn sidekick. This is my legacy now.”

Azzi, seated a few feet away on the couch, laughed into her hand. “You let her win.”

Paige peeked through her fingers. “Did I?”

Azzi arched an eyebrow. “You’re limping.”

“That’s unrelated.” Paige sat up slowly, brushing her hoodie sleeve off her forehead. “I’m just emotionally fragile.”

From across the room, KK shouted, “Or weak!” before toppling backward into a bean bag with a mouthful of gummy worms. Ruby giggled from the pillow fortress and launched a stray sock at her. It missed entirely, but KK gasped like she’d been struck. “She’s got an arm, too!”

“Recruit her now,” Ice called. “Full scholarship.”

Nika, lounging nearby on the arm of the couch but now with a bag of chips in her lap, nudged Azzi’s shoulder. “Okay, so… is it just me, or are they actually perfect?”

Azzi blinked. “Who?”

Nika tilted her chin toward Paige, who was now trying to convince Ruby to let her braid Sparklehorn’s tail. “You and her. That. All of it.”

Azzi followed her gaze and took in the scene. Paige, crouched low with Ruby, pretending to take Sparklehorn’s measurements for a custom uniform. Ruby was watching her with absolute reverence, tiny hands pressed to her cheeks as she nodded seriously at everything Paige said. Azzi’s chest swelled.

“If anything, Paige is just perfect,” she said softly. “It still feels… new. But also—like it’s always been there. Just waiting.”

Nika leaned in a little, lowering her voice. “Can I ask you something?”

Azzi nodded, cautious but open.

“Why didn’t you ever tell anyone about Ruby before? I don’t mean that as a judgment. Just… I’ve been thinking about it. You’re not ashamed. That’s obvious. So what was it?”

Azzi looked down, her fingers fidgeting slightly with the edge of her shirt. “Because I was scared.”

“Of what?”

She drew in a breath. “Of everything. Of what people would say. Of losing control of the story. I didn’t want her turned into a headline. ‘Teen mum basketball prodigy.’ ‘UConn freshman hides child.’ I wanted Ruby to just… be. To grow up not having to explain herself. Or me.”

Nika was quiet for a long beat. Then she said, “You know she doesn’t have to explain anything, right? Not when she’s got this. Us.”

Azzi blinked against the sudden sting in her eyes.

“She’s safe,” Nika added, nudging her shoulder again. “You’ve made sure of that. And now you’ve got a whole squad of ride-or-dies who’ll keep it that way.”

Azzi turned her head just enough to meet Nika’s gaze. “I’m starting to believe that.”

Nika smiled. “Good. Because we’ve got glitter glue and backup s’mores and zero chill. We’re in this.”

Before Azzi could reply, Ruby stood up and bolted back over to Paige, squealing, “Again! Again! I get you this time, Paigey!”

Paige held up her hands in surrender. “Okay, okay, you win! I’ll get the ball!”

Azzi laughed, warmth radiating through her chest. Watching them both with a full heart, knowing without doubt that whatever was next, whatever came with time, or games, or birthdays—they’d face it together. As a family.

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

The dorm had softened into that golden, hazy calm that only came at the tail end of something magical. Laughter now came in the form of soft chuckles and shared glances. Some of the girls were half-asleep already, curled into beanbags or draped like melted wax across the floor. The energy had shifted, less chaotic now, more grounded. More like home.

Ruby sat nestled in the crook between Paige’s side and Azzi’s lap, her sleeping bag partially unzipped and pulled halfway up her body like she couldn’t decide whether she was too warm or too cold. Sparklehorn rested on her stomach, one glittery hoof tucked beneath Ruby’s arm like a seatbelt. Her eyes were heavy, blinking slower now, her thumb hovering near her mouth in that way she only did when she was truly winding down.

Azzi’s fingers combed lazily through Ruby’s curls, the rhythm of it so familiar she didn’t even notice she was doing it. Paige’s hand rested lightly on Ruby’s shin, her thumb stroking slow arcs over the soft fleece of her pajama pants. The three of them sat in their own little pocket of the room, a makeshift nest of pillows and blankets forming a quiet border around them. Even in a dorm full of teammates and twinkling chaos, it felt oddly private.

“She’s trying so hard not to fall asleep,” Paige murmured, glancing down at Ruby’s fluttering lashes.

“She doesn’t want to miss anything,” Azzi replied, her voice just as soft. “She never does.”

Paige looked at her sideways, catching the faint curve of a smile on Azzi’s lips, the kind that only surfaced when she was watching Ruby like this. “She’s something else.”

“She really is,” Azzi said quietly, brushing a curl off Ruby’s forehead.

They sat in silence for a moment, just breathing together, Ruby shifting slightly against them as she adjusted Sparklehorn’s position. The weight of the day, the laughter, the baking, the bath bubbles, the chaos of sleepover games and glitter bombs had finally settled around them like a second blanket.

Then, without looking up, Azzi said, “I used to think this wasn’t something I’d never get to have.”

Paige glanced at her, brow furrowing gently. “What do you mean?”

Azzi swallowed. Her fingers stilled in Ruby’s hair for a moment before resuming. “This. The normalcy. Being here. Watching her feel safe with people outside of me. I never let myself picture it. I was too afraid.”

Paige didn’t say anything right away. Just listened.

“I didn’t want to believe I could have something like this without it all falling apart. I told myself it was easier not to let anyone in. Safer to just keep it small. Me and her and my parents, and that’s it.” Azzi glanced at Paige now, her voice almost a whisper. “Then you happened.”

Paige’s heart clenched, not with pain, but with the kind of fullness that made it hard to breathe. She shifted closer, letting their arms press together, her voice hushed. “And now?”

Azzi looked down at Ruby, her messy curls, her soft breathing, the peaceful look on her face, and then back at Paige. “Now it just feels like she was waiting for you.”

Paige blinked hard, the lump in her throat suddenly undeniable.

“I was, too,” Azzi added.

The silence that followed wasn’t awkward. It was reverent.

Paige leaned her head gently against Azzi’s shoulder, her voice low. “I don’t want to miss any of it. Not with you. Not with her.”

Azzi turned and kissed the side of her head, soft and sure. “You won’t. I'm so in love with you Paige”

For a few minutes, they stayed like that, cocooned in the soft noise of a dorm falling asleep around them, the rise and fall of Ruby’s breathing anchoring them both. Paige reached over and tugged the sleeping bag a little higher around Ruby’s legs, tucking her in without disturbing her position.

Ruby stirred slightly, murmuring something incoherent, then sighed and settled again.

Azzi smiled, her eyes following Paige’s movements. “You’re good at this.”

“I’ve had an excellent coach,” Paige said, glancing pointedly at her.

“I meant her,” Azzi said, smirking as she nodded toward Ruby. “She’s very particular.”

Paige chuckled, resting her head back on Azzi’s shoulder. “She’s perfect.”

“She’s a menace.”

Paige grinned. “She’s your menace.”

Azzi turned her head and looked at her, really looked at her. “She’s our menace.”

The words hung there, soft and warm and heavy with meaning.

Paige didn’t respond. She just reached across and laced their fingers together.

And in that small, glowing corner of the world, surrounded by snoring teammates and twinkling lights and the scent of melted chocolate still faint in the air, they held on. Because this was theirs now.

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

The lounge was dim, washed in the blue-gray hush of early morning. The string lights had burned out sometime in the night, leaving only the soft glow of sunrise sneaking through the blinds and casting faint stripes across the lumpy terrain of sleeping bags and abandoned throw pillows. A fan hummed somewhere in the corner. Someone snored softly. And nestled in a nest of tangled blankets at the far edge of the room, Paige stirred first.

Her eyes cracked open slowly, adjusting to the soft light, the unfamiliar quiet of a room full of bodies not yet moving. Her back ached faintly from the floor, but her chest was full, physically and otherwise because Azzi was still curled against her, one leg tucked between Paige’s, one hand slipped under the hem of Paige’s hoodie like it had found a home there.

Paige didn’t move. Not at first. She just stared at the crown of Azzi’s curls, at the rise and fall of her breath, at the way her mouth was slack with sleep, her lashes impossibly long against her cheek. God, she was beautiful. Unfairly so. Especially like this unguarded, pressed flush against her like she didn’t have a single wall left between them.

Paige’s heart thudded low in her chest, steady but heavy. She didn’t even try to stop the thoughts that rose, memories from the hotel, from Azzi on top of her, from the pink silk pajama set, from the way Azzi’s body had melted against hers last night before they’d climbed back into the fort and settled beside Ruby like it was the most natural thing in the world.

Azzi stirred then, shifting slightly, her cheek brushing Paige’s collarbone. A quiet breath left her lips.

Paige smiled to herself, leaned in close. “Morning,” she whispered, barely audible.

Azzi mumbled something unintelligible into her shoulder.

Paige chuckled, teeth grazing Azzi’s ear as she whispered again, “C’mon. Get up, baby.”

Azzi blinked herself awake slowly, pulling back just enough to meet Paige’s gaze. “What time is it?”

“Early.” Paige’s hand was already sliding low on Azzi’s waist beneath the blanket. “Everyone’s still asleep.”

Azzi yawned, squinting at her. “And you’re up why?”

Paige tilted her head, her voice dropping low. “Because you’re wearing those stupid-soft pajamas, and your thigh’s been pressed between mine for the past six hours, and I’m losing my mind.”

Azzi blinked again, slower this time. “Oh.”

“Yeah.”

Azzi smirked, the sleepiness falling away just a little. “And you’re telling me this why?”

“Because,” Paige said, her fingers dipping just under the waistband of Azzi’s pajama shorts, “if we move quietly enough, we can sneak out of here and make out in the bathroom for ten minutes before anyone notices.”

Azzi raised an eyebrow. “That’s what you want right now?”

Paige leaned in until their noses touched. “Az... I’ve been trying not to kiss you for hours. Do you know how hard it is not to grab you when you’re curled up next to me looking like that?”

Azzi hummed low in her throat, pretending to think. “Depends. Is the bathroom empty?”

Paige grinned, already easing out from beneath the blanket. “Let’s go find out.”

They moved slow and deliberate, slipping out of their nest of blankets without waking Ruby who had rolled onto her back, Sparklehorn wedged between her knees, they tiptoed through the sea of sleeping bodies. Paige kept one hand wrapped around Azzi’s, the other gripping her phone like a flashlight she never turned on. Every creak of the floorboard was a risk. Every shuffle of a teammate a potential disaster.

But they made it. Down the short hallway, past the coat rack, through the propped-open door of the shared dorm bathroom. Paige flipped the lock behind them with a soft click, and then they were alone, standing in front of the sink, surrounded by the quiet hum of the vents and the faint scent of coconut soap.

Azzi turned to say something, but she didn’t get the chance.

Paige had her backed against the counter in two steps, mouth already finding hers, hands bracketing her hips like she’d been waiting weeks, not hours. The kiss was deep immediately—no buildup, no hesitation. Just a soft, aching hunger that rose in Paige’s chest and poured into every press of lips and slide of tongue. Azzi gasped softly into her mouth, arms winding around Paige’s neck.

Paige groaned against her lips. “You always taste this good when you wake up?”

Azzi pulled back just enough to whisper, “Only when I wake up with you.”

That wrecked her.

Paige dipped her head, kissing down Azzi’s throat, teeth grazing her skin as her hands slid under Azzi’s shirt, palms warm and deliberate. “You drive me crazy.”

“You started it,” Azzi breathed, hips tilting toward her without even thinking.

“Because you wore silk pajamas to a sleepover,” Paige said, mouthing at her collarbone. “That’s practically a threat.”

Azzi laughed, breathless. “You’re obsessed with these pajamas. And besides you chose them”

“I’m obsessed with you in them.”

Azzi caught her mouth again, the kiss deeper now tongue curling, body flush against body, the heat between them growing by the second. Paige lifted her, just a little, enough to sit Azzi up on the counter, slotting herself between her thighs like a puzzle piece.

Their mouths met again, hungry and soft all at once, and Paige’s hands gripped the back of Azzi’s thighs, thumbs stroking along the hem of her shorts.

Azzi broke the kiss with a gasp. “We really shouldn’t do this here.”

“We’re not,” Paige said, voice rough. “I just need this.”

“Need what?”

“You.” Paige kissed the corner of her mouth. “This.” Her hand slid up Azzi’s ribcage, not groping, just grounding. “Five minutes of pretending the rest of the world doesn’t exist.”

Azzi cupped her face with both hands, holding her still. “You don’t have to pretend. You’re mine. And I’m yours.”

Paige exhaled shakily, forehead pressed to hers.

Outside, the dorm remained quiet. Inside, their world narrowed to the steam on the mirror and the steady thud of their pulses syncing again. Paige kissed her one more time, long, slow, full of promise and then gently eased back, resting her hands on Azzi’s knees like she wasn’t quite ready to let go.

Azzi smiled at her. “You’re gonna be a menace today, aren’t you?”

Paige grinned. “Absolutely.”

She helped Azzi down, stole one last kiss, quick and stolen and then they washed their hands in silence like nothing had happened.

Just two girls sneaking back to bed, trying not to smile too hard.

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

By the time Paige and Azzi tiptoed back into the dim lounge, the spell of sleep was already beginning to lift. Someone shifted in a blanket pile by the window. KK snorted in her sleep. A phone vibrated gently on the hardwood floor and was promptly smacked silent by a half-asleep Ines.

But it was Ruby who woke up first.

She stirred quietly, blinking against the filtered light as she rolled toward the empty space beside her. Sparklehorn was still tucked under one arm, but her other hand reached out blindly, patting the warm dent in the sleeping bag where Paige had been.

“Paigey?” she mumbled, still thick with sleep.

Paige was across the room in three steps, crouching beside her gently. “Hey, I’m right here, Roo.”

Ruby squinted up at her, then let out a happy little breath and flung one arm around Paige’s neck, pulling her in like she’d been gone for days instead of ten minutes. “Where you go’d?”

“Bathroom,” Paige whispered, brushing curls out of her face. “Didn’t wanna wake you.”

Ruby pouted sleepily. “Next time you take me too.”

Azzi chuckled softly from behind them, her voice low and warm. “Let’s not start that habit.”

More movement began now, groans, stretches, half-formed sentences from under blankets as the rest of the team started to stir. Someone yawned loud enough to echo. Someone else demanded coffee.

Nika sat up, hair wild, rubbing her eyes. “Is it morning already? I feel like I got hit by a unicorn stampede.”

“You kinda did,” Ice muttered, rolling onto her side.

“Team MVP still undefeated,” KK mumbled from under a hoodie. “I got tackled in my sleep.”

Amid the sleepy chaos, Azzi leaned toward Paige and murmured, “You wanna come back to mine? We were gonna make pancakes this morning. Ruby’s gonna expect it. And I… I want you there.”

Paige looked at her, the kind of look that held more than just affection, something anchored and certain, the kind you give someone when you already know your answer. “Yeah. I’m coming.”

They moved quietly through the parting team chaos, saying goodbye with sleepy hugs and soft jokes. Ruby insisted on saying bye to Sparklehorn’s “new friends” one by one, holding the unicorn out dramatically like a farewell tour. Paige lifted her backpack over one shoulder, reaching for Azzi’s hand without thinking as they made their way out.

By the time they pulled up to Azzi’s house, the sun had fully climbed into the sky, casting long golden streaks across the grass. Ruby was already bouncing in the back seat, promising Sparklehorn “the bestest pancake ever,” and by the time they walked through the front door, the house was stirring with quiet morning energy.

Katie was at the counter, tying her robe tighter and pouring orange juice. Tim stood in front of the stove in a T-shirt and joggers, flipping something with practiced ease.

“Well, well,” he said as they walked in. “Look who survived the sleepover.”

“Barely,” Azzi said, setting her bag down. “There was glitter. Chaos. And Ruby tackled KK twice.”

Ruby ran in ahead of them, spinning in a little circle on the kitchen tile. “We make pancakes now! With strawberries! And Sprinkly Sparkles!”

Katie blinked. “Are Sprinkly Sparkles edible?”

“Everything’s edible if you try,” Tim said.

Azzi gave him a look. “Dad.”

Paige laughed, stepping further inside. “I can help. I mean, if you trust me with a spatula.”

Tim raised a brow, mock serious. “That depends. You flip with your wrist or your elbow?”

“Wrist,” Paige said instantly.

“Alright,” Tim nodded, handing her the mixing bowl. “She’s in.”

They fell into an easy rhythm, the kitchen filling with the sounds of batter being stirred, fruit being sliced, Ruby singing off-key while dancing on a stool, and Azzi stealing bits of strawberry when she thought no one was looking. Paige stood beside her at the counter, wearing a borrowed pair of Azzi’s sweatpants and her own hoodie, hair tied back with one of Ruby’s sparkly scrunchies because Ruby had insisted it was “part of pancake uniform.”

Tim flipped the first few pancakes onto a plate. Katie set the table. Ruby lined up all of Sparklehorn’s imaginary friends at the end like they needed their own chairs.

At one point, as Paige leaned in to sprinkle chocolate chips onto a new batch, Azzi came up behind her and wrapped her arms around her waist, resting her chin on Paige’s shoulder.

“You’re good at this,” Azzi said quietly.

Paige tilted her head back just enough to smile. “Pancakes?”

Azzi pressed a soft kiss behind her ear. “This. Everything”

It was an easy kind of joy, unremarkable to the outside world, but massive in the way it filled every quiet moment. When they finally sat down, Ruby demanded a specific seating chart: Paige next to her, Azzi on her other side, and “Poppy and Grandma across so they can see.”

They all ate together, the four of them, five, if Sparklehorn counted — passing plates, wiping syrup from Ruby’s chin, laughing at Tim’s stories, the house glowing with weekend warmth.

At one point, Tim raised his phone. “Smile,” he said. “I need to post this. To prove I make the best pancakes.”

Before anyone could object, he snapped the photo — Paige mid-laugh with a piece of strawberry in her hand, Azzi looking at her like she’d forgotten the rest of the room existed, and Ruby smack in the center, covered in syrup, holding Sparklehorn in one arm and raising her fork triumphantly in the other.

Tim looked at the picture and smiled.

It looked like family.

And for once, no one felt the need to explain it.

#pazzi #azzi fudd #paige bueckers #pazzi fics #uconn wbb #paige x azzi #wlw

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