#For the record it's fine if some of this stuff slipped your mind when people were making these claims however. The botw being the first
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Love how you can tell how many Zelda games people have played/know about based on their takes. Like "Oh but Breath of the Wild is the first mainline Zelda game where you can jump on command with a dedicated jump button"
Do they mean nothing to you?


#fandom wank#legend of zelda#zelda 2#Sometimes people say things and you're like ''How much you wanna bet one of their first few games if not the first was botw''#It's a whole train of thought too. li#Like people will say ''Botw is the first game where Link can jump'' yeah bro did you know that you can run off a ledge in any 3d zelda game#and he will jump? Deku Link from MM can hop on water even#And then they'll go ''No no you need to be able to do it without it automatically doing it when you jump off ledges. you gotta do it on#command''#And you'll be like ''What about the fact that 3d zelda games give you the ability to do side hops‚ back flips‚ and jump attacks? You can do#those on command. What about using Midna with wolf link to make major jumps in TP?''#And then somehow that doesn't count because of course they mean being able to just jump vertically off the ground 🙄#So you go ''Okay what about Link's Awakening? The Oracle games? The Minish Cap? Do Roc's feather and Roc's cape mean nothing to you?''#And they go ''Noooooo actually botw is the first zelda game where you can jump vertically on command without using any items from the start#of the game''#Zelda 2: *Enters the chat*#For the record it's fine if some of this stuff slipped your mind when people were making these claims however. The botw being the first#mainline zelda game you can jump in is easy enough to debunk you wonder why so many people just believe it when people say it#i just be ramblin
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Part 13: If You Stay
Masterlist - Part 1 - Part 2 - Part 3 - Part 4 - Part 5 - Part 6 - Part 7 - Part 8 - Part 9 - Part 10 - Part 11 - Part 12 - Part 14 - Part 15
And I find it bittersweet (cause you gave me something to lose)
(In which, an all over the place writer, writes an all over the place chapter)
Pairing: Paige Bueckers X Azzi Fudd
Themes: Angst with some Hurt/Comfort and a little bit of Fluff
Words: 13.1K
TW: Swearing, Slightly Suggestive Content, Mentions of Divorce, Drinking
A/N: Hello my lovelies <3 So clearly that 48 to 72 hours deadline completely evaded me but here I am! I've always gotten asks about how many chapters GH will be and normally it's an estimate but I can almost for certain say that after this one, there will be two more chapters. This part is, like I said, a little all over the place as I start to tie in loose ends and bring everything together but it's pretty important as we start our journey to the end. This isn't particularly well-edited because as well know I hate editing but I eventually will go back and edit so any typos/errors you see are much-appreciated. As always, your live reacts give me life, so let me know what you liked, what you didn't and what you'd like to see next. Have a lovely weekend my loves <3
May 2033
Paige wakes up alone to an empty bed. Her eyes open to the feel of her fingers reaching out and finding nothing but the soft material of her crinkled bedsheets. She stares at the empty space, gaze fixated on the way the sunlight hits the exact spot Azzi had been curled up in and lets her mind wander back to yesterday -god everything had been fine just 24 hours ago- when the rays of sunshine coming through the window had cast lines of gold across the brunette’s face. It wasn’t often that Paige woke up before Azzi, but for some reason she had yesterday. Maybe it was the universe’s way of giving her one last chance to memorize an image that she’s not sure when she’ll be able to see again. Paige traces her hands along the linen, blinking back tears, and she swears she can still feel the heat of Stephie and Azzi’s bodies radiating off of it. It’s unfair, she knows, to expect them to have stayed when it’s the one thing she herself can’t commit to doing but still, that awareness does little to dull the ache reverberating through her chest.
Sighing to herself, Paige shifts onto her back, turning away from the empty space that almost feels taunting. She gives herself a minute, taking deep breaths to chase away the erraticness in her heartbeat and the moisture in her eyes before finally sitting up and leaning against the headboard. Her eyebrows knit together when she notices the bag in the corner -the pink duffel Azzi had packed for last night- and she almost gasps. It wasn’t like Azzi to forget her stuff, even when escaping. And then she hears it, the familiar giggles of a little girl echoing from her kitchen and Paige feels her heart break and fix itself at the same time.
They’d stayed.
Paige flings the covers off of herself, making it from the guest bedroom to the stairs in record time. She almost slips on the fifth step as she races down the stairs, every part of her alight with the need to just see Stephie and Azzi. Her feet skid to a halt before the kitchen doorway and her breath catches in her lungs, hand immediately clutching at her chest as she takes in the scene in front of her. It’s the three most important people in her life gathered around the kitchen counter. Azzi’s flipping pancakes, a soft grin on her face as she listens to Drew and Stephie -both of them already with a stack of pancakes on their respective plates- who are animatedly arguing about whether bananas or chocolate chips go better with pancakes.
“Come on Uncle Drew,” Stephie drawls, “choc-chips are the best-est-est-est and ‘nanas are boooooring.”
“Bananas are not boring,” Drew counters, his voice filled with dramatic offense, “you can mash them in the pancake or eat them on the side or on top of the stack. Bananas are versatile.”
Stephie scrunches her nose and Paige smiles as the little girl gives her brother a pointed look, “I don’t know what vers-a-tile means so that doesn’t even matter to me.”
Azzi snorts, “I don’t think that’s how that works Stephie-bean.”
“Does too,” Stephie pouts and then juts her fork out at Drew, “here Uncle Drew, try it and you’ll see choc-chips are so much better than that,” she looks disdainfully at the young man’s plate.
Drew dutifully accepts the bite of food, chewing it at an exaggeratedly slow pace as he pretends to contemplate how he feels about it.
“I mean it’s not bad,” he says finally, before a smirk breaks out on his lips, “but banana’s clear.”
“Nah, I don’t know about that,” Paige says, finally making her presence known as she walks over to Stephie’s side, “You’re both wrong. Blueberries are better with pancakes than both bananas and chocolate chips,” she reaches out to ruffle Stephie’s hair, smile faltering when the little girl dodges her hand, “Steph-”
“Mama,” gone is the happy child that had been casually bantering with Drew; Stephie’s face is ashen with the remnants of her emotions from last night as she shifts herself as far away from Paige as possible, “I wanna go home.”
Her words feel like a needle, pricking against the bubble of delusion Paige had created mere seconds ago; the wishful thought that maybe they could ignore what had happened last night, that they could just close the lid on the jar of darkness they’d opened and pretend the obsidian hadn’t slipped out, clouding the paradise they’d built before. And maybe that’s Paige’s problem. Avoidance. She’d pushed herself towards Stephie and Azzi, acting like there wasn’t a harness -bound together with the ropes of all the grievances, all the fears, that the past had left in her- and now she was stuck. So close to reaching them but unable to finally get there.
Azzi’s eyes flicker conflictedly between Paige’s ashen face and Stephie’s stormy one, her teeth gnawing at her bottom lip, “you’ve still got some more left on your plate Stephie-bean,”
“I don’t want the rest,” Stephie says adamantly, pushing the plate away from her, “I’m not hungry anymore.”
“Stephie we don’t waste food,” Azzi says it like it’s a reprimand but Paige knows it’s for her sake, to give her more time with Stephie, and a mix of guilt and gratefulness pools in her stomach as she fights the urge to pull the younger woman into her arms and kiss away the stress lines that have formed on her forehead in the last 24 hours.
“Then pack it and we can take it home,” Stephie slides off the counter, tiny arms crossing over her chest as she looks at her mother with pleading eyes, “please Mama, I don’t wanna be here anymore.”
“Stephie-” Paige tries to say, reaching out once again for the little girl.
“Excuse me Coach Bueckers,” Stephie sidesteps the older woman, her voice far colder than a little girl’s voice should be -far colder than anything she’s ever used with her Miss Buecks- and it feels like shards of ice prodding against Paige’s heart.
“Stephie please-”
The little girl refuses to meet her gaze but Paige notices the way her eyes glance towards her for the briefest moment, like she wants nothing more than to turn around and fling herself at the older woman. But the look is gone as quick as it came and Stephie’s face hardens -and Paige hates herself for being the reason why- as she looks at her mother.
“Please can we go home now Mama?”
Azzi sighs, “yeah bean, we can go home. Unless-” she hesitates, eyes locking with Paige’s, “unless- maybe Miss Buecks has a reason we should stay?”
And Paige knows this is Azzi giving her one last chance, one last opportunity to say the right things, to keep Stephie and Azzi with her. It’s why she hadn’t left this morning; she’d been waiting to see if Paige was ready. And all Paige has to do is open her mouth and make the promises that she couldn’t last night; shut the door on her escape plan -to New York and the Liberty- and she can open the one that leads to her perfect dream, that leads to a forever with Stephie and Azzi. But that’s the thing; what if forever doesn’t last? After all, the last time she’d trusted in it -trusted the same woman in front of her to be hers always- forever had turned out to be a myth. Paige isn’t ready. And so she averts Azzi’s gaze, keeps her mouth shut and looks away before she can see the hope disappear from the brunette’s face.
“Right,” Azzi swallows, “alright then uh -you’re right Stephie- we should- we should go home. You go wash your face and uh- Mama’s gonna go grab our stuff and then- then we can go.”
The last words make an indiscernible noise creak out of Paige’s lips as she watches Stephie make her way towards the bathroom. Azzi carefully flips the final pancake onto a plate -one with a stack of blueberry pancakes- before turning the stove off and beelining for the stairs towards the guest room. But Paige is quicker, curling her fingers around the younger woman’s wrist to keep her in place.
“Az,” she breathes out, unsure what to say- unsure what she even wants to say.
Azzi doesn’t look at her, “I ordered groceries.”
“What?”
“You didn’t have any food and I- I wanted to make pancakes,” Azzi explains, “but uh- I got more than just pancake stuff. There’s eggs and milk and that stupid cereal that you like and just- just basic groceries you know. And I know you don’t like veggies but I had to get some because they’re good for you Paige okay but don’t- don’t worry- I balanced it out with all those ridiculously unhealthy snacks you like.”
“Azzi,” Paige’s voice cracks, “you didn’t have to-”
“I did,” Azzi cuts her off, “you just- you can’t live off of fucking takeout okay,” a lone tear slides down her cheek, “and I got- I got enough groceries to last you two weeks but you- you’ll have to get more eventually if-” she stops herself but they both know where that sentence was going.
If you’re gonna live here- if you’re gonna live by yourself.
“I just-” Paige struggles to get the words out, “I need some more time.”
“I know,” Azzi finally looks at her and for a second Paige almost wishes she hadn’t because the hurt -the please just say you’ll stay- swimming in the younger woman’s eyes is almost too much to bear, “I know you need time and you- you can have it,” she brushes her thumb against Paige’s waterline, “but you can’t have both. You can’t have time and us.”
Why not, Paige wants to scream, wants to stomp her feet like a petulant toddler but she knows Azzi’s right, knows that they have to be apart until she figures it out. And so she nods at the brunette’s words as Azzi gently caresses her cheek -fingers lingering just a little longer than they should- before she rushes upstairs to grab her and Stephie’s overnight bag.
Paige watches her go before she disappears out of sight, and the blonde falls back against the counter. Closing her eyes as she takes in a couple of deep breaths, she swears the air has never felt more acidic. And she he can feel Drew looking at her, can almost see the contemplative -maybe even concerned- look in his eyes without opening her own.
“What?” she bites out, harsher than intended.
“Nothing,” Drew hesitates, “I just- I didn’t think Azzi would have stayed last night.”
Paige shrugs, eyes still closed, “I asked her to.”
“I figured but I- I guess I didn’t expect her to agree,” Drew says quietly.
There’s an undercurrent to her brother’s tone that has Paige finally opening her eyes, fixing him with a stern gaze, “what exactly are you trying to say Drew?”
“Nothing,” Drew repeats but the nervous shuffle of his feet say something entirely different.
“Drew.”
“She stayed Paige,” his voice breaks unexpectedly, “last night, this morning, she- she stayed.”
There’s a beat of silence as Paige stares at her brothers, absorbing his words when the unexpected flash of anger hits, “seriously?”
“What?” Drew’s taken aback by the fire in his sister's eyes.
“What do you mean what? One fucking stack of pancakes and suddenly all that shit you said to me last night- you don’t believe it anymore? All of that’s forgotten now?”
“That’s not-”
“Jesus fucking christ Drew,” Paige pinches the bridge of her nose and she’s fully aware her anger is misdirected -that it’s herself, she’s mad at- but she continues ranting at her brother anyways, “you made me overthink everything Drew. I was doing fine, we were doing fine and then- then you said all of that shit last night, reminded me of everything and now here we are the next morning and what? You’re not mad at Azzi anymore? She stays one fucking night and all is forgiven? You’ve changed your whole fucking mind-”
“You can’t blame me-” Drew begins to cut her off loudly but then there’s another voice -soft and small- interrupting both of them. They turn to see Stephie staring at them, her expression almost fearful at the sound of them arguing. And Paige hates herself a little bit for putting all these new expressions on the little girl’s face; she misses when she used to be the reason for her smile.
“That’s- that’s two bad words Miss-” Stephie stops herself, swallowing away the familiar name, “I mean- Coach Bueckers.”
“Sorry Stephie,” Paige whispers, pausing slightly before she takes a nervous step towards the girl, “so does that- does that mean I owe you two kisses?”
Stephie’s face wobbles, her bottom lip trembling as she nods slowly, “yeah you do.”
Paige breathes shakily as she kneels down in front of the little girl, eyes drinking in the sight of having her this close -like they know they might not get this moment again- as she slowly pulls her into her arms. Stephie is warm and soft and familiar and Paige wishes she would never have to let the little girl go. She squeezes her to her chest as she delicately places her lips against Stephies left cheek.
“I’m sorry sweetheart,” she whispers against the little girl’s soft skin, hoping the child knows it isn’t just for the swearing before she presses another fluttering kiss against Stephie’s right cheek, “I’m so sorry.”
And then, just as Stephie’s about to pull out of her grasp, Paige stops her, pressing her lips to the little girl’s forehead. When she pulls back, Stephie’s staring at her with a confused look on her face.
“You only owed me two,” she says matter-of-factly, “what was the last one for?”
Paige gives the little girl a sad smile as she brushes away a strand of curly hair that had gotten loose from her ponytail, “just because you’re my Stephie-bean.”
Stephie stares at her and Paige can see a myriad of emotions flicker behind her tiny eyes. She opens her mouth, like she’s about to say something and Paige’s heart thumps in anticipation, but then the sound of Azzi’s footsteps coming down echoes from the stairs and Stephie pushes away from her. And suddenly, Paige feels empty, like the most vital parts of her are missing.
“You ready to go Stephie-bean?” Azzi asks, mustering on a brave voice for her daughter but Paige can hear the way it’s cracking, can tell from her red-rimmed eyes that she’d taken a little longer than necessary upstairs to fix herself.
“Yeah Mama,” Stephie takes her mother’s outstretched hand, “let’s go home.”
The walk through the foyer and outside towards Azzi car feels like it takes hours. Drew doesn’t come all the way, stopping at the front door and giving Stephie a quick high-five that draws a brief smile from the little girl. He doesn’t say anything to Azzi but there’s an underlying softness in the way he tips his head towards her as they nod at each other. And then it’s just the three of them and Paige swears they’re all walking just a little bit slower than they normally do, like they’re trying to savor this moment just a little longer and prolong the inevitable.
She leans against the side of the car as Azzi buckles Stephie into her carseat. The little girl keeps on her brave face, avoiding eye contact with both Paige and her mother as she focuses firmly in front of her. When Azzi closes the backdoor, Stephie’s face disappearing behind the tinted windows, Paige wants to scream. Everything in her feels like it’s burning and freezing at the same time.
Azzi hesitates as she’s about to get into the driver’s seat, biting her lip as she turns back towards Paige.
“You should know that I - that Stephie and I- we-” she pauses, like she’s scared to say the rest of it, “we want you- we want you forever Paige,” both of them suck in a deep breath as the confession looms in the air above them, “and I know you need time and you should take it,” Azzi says softly, her hand reaching almost halfway to caress Paige’s cheek before falling forlornly back to her sides, “but we can’t- we won’t wait forever.”
***
August 2031
Paige is normally a big fan of All-Star weekend; she relishes the chaos of the weekend, getting the opportunity to connect with her fellow peers in a way that wasn’t possible during the rest of the season and just didn’t quite happen at this level outside of it. But she’s definitely not a fan of it this year, considering it’s being held in her team’s city, in Dallas. Six years later and still, something about this city doesn’t quite feel right, doesn’t feel quite like a place she can call home.
But still, at least it had given her the chance to not have to be in her apartment this weekend. Unlike her teammates who were more than comfortable staying in their respective homes, Paige had taken up the WNBA’s offer to stay where the rest of the non-Wings players were staying. It’s ironic that the sterile walls of an unfamiliar hotel somehow feel more comforting than a home that’s supposed to be hers. Except, the apartment -the one she’d moved into after the divorce after giving Oliva their house in an act of goodwill- feels cold and empty and Paige has done little to rectify it. She pretends it’s because she’s too busy, that she’ll get to hanging up the picture frames and decorating the walls eventually. But there’s a part of her that knows she’s likely just stalling the inevitable, that the apartment is as temporary as it gets until she finally lets herself make the decision to to leave Dallas.
The quiet ding of the elevator opening has Paige sighing as she shakes her mind of that daunting thought. It’s why she’d rushed out of her room in the first place, not wanting to be trapped with herself for longer than necessary. The silence has become her worst enemy, enhancing the loneliness that she’s felt ever since the divorce- maybe even longer.
Divorce.
God she hates that word, has hated it since her parents had sat her down and said they were getting one. She’d always told herself she wouldn’t become another divorce statistic like them but clearly history liked repeating itself. And the worst part of it, Paige thinks, is that she doesn’t regret the divorce -thinks it might be one of the only right decisions she’s made in the last six years- but maybe she regrets that marriage, regrets selling Olivia a dream, she’d subconsciously always known she wouldn’t be able to fulfill.
Thinking of Olivia makes Paige feel awful. She hadn’t done anything outrightly wrong to the other woman, never raised her voice or said anything untoward and she’d definitely never cheated. Well, not physically at least. But she’d gotten married to the reporter for all the wrong reasons, trying to fit a puzzle piece that had all the wrong edges into the jigsaw of her life even though she’d known the empty space in her heart could only be filled by one person. For her part, Olivia had been just as good at pretending as Paige was, acting like she couldn’t see the cracks in their relationship or the water that was seeping in through them.
And then something shifted -maybe the water had finally gone over their head- and just like she’d been the one to bring up the idea of getting married, Olivia was the one who had filed for divorce. And Paige thinks maybe the worst thing she ever did to Olivia, is the way she didn’t fight it once. She remembers the hesitation in her ex-wife’s eyes, remembers the slight pleading look on her face as if she wanted Paige to at least resist it a little bit. But she hadn’t; she’d simply nodded and signed. That was the end of the Olivia, Paige knew and from then on the sweet, bubbly, slightly over-enthusiastic reporter who’d stumbled over her question at Paige’s first media availability transformed into a cold ex-wife who could keep up a charade of cordiality for appearances, but never refrained from a cutting jab here and there.
The elevator dings open and Paige steps into the lobby, straightening her hoodie a little bit as she scans the area for familiar faces. Finding no one she’s particularly interested in talking to, she’d just about to head to the bar when her eyes land on a little girl nervously bouncing on her feet next to a vase of flowers that’s almost double her height. She can’t be older than three years old and Paige can tell from the way her bottom lip is trembling, that the young child is doing her absolute best to hold in tears. Something constricts in her heart -something almost more than just empathy for the little girl- as Paige makes her way over.
Gently, trying not to scare the girl, Paige kneels in front of her, “hey sweetheart.”
When the little girl turns to look at her, familiar dark brown doey eyes filled with unshed tears, her breath hitches in her throat and Paige suddenly realizes why she’d felt that tug in her heart. This is Azzi’s kid.
“H-hi,” the little girl manages to splutter, playing with her fingers as she regards Paige with a way expression, clearly trying to discern whether she’s safe or not.
“Hey,” Paige repeats, smiling reassuringly, “you okay?”
The little girl nods slowly but there must something about the warmth in Paige’s smile that she pauses, rebellious teardrops running down her face as she goes from nodding to shaking her head.
“I-I-I-I- lost,” she wails.
“Oh sweetheart it’s okay,” Paige tries to say, hands instinctively reaching out to run up and down the little girl’s shoulders.
“I was- I was ‘posed to be with Aunty J but she- she was talking and I saw pu-ple flow-es,” she points to the vase through her tears, “so I came to see but then- but then- I look back and Aunty J no there anymore and I want- I want my Mama,” she heaves, fully sobbing now, “I want my Mama.”
“It’s okay sweetheart, shhh,” Paige comforts the little girl as she stands back up, lacing her own fingers through her tinier ones, “how about we go and try to find your Mama?”
She’s about to turn around when feels a tug on her hand and when she looks down, the young child is shaking her head, adamantly planting her feet firmly on the floor.
“We can’t go,” she says firmly, “Mama says if I get lost, I stay where I am and Mama will find me. And-,” she hesitates as she looks Paige up and down, “Mama says I don’t go anywhere with a st-anger.”
It shouldn’t sting -because that’s what Paige is, a stranger- but it’s an unsettling reminder that this is a world like nothing she’d ever imagined when she was younger, a world where Azzi’s daughter doesn’t know her.
“So we can’t go. We have to stay here and Mama will find me,” the little girl says again and despite the tears still swimming in her eyes, there’s complete confidence -trust- in her voice that her mother -that Azzi- will find her.
“Okay,” Paige agrees softly, “but is it okay if I wait with you?”
Azzi’s daughter looks at her with a contemplative look for a couple of seconds before a bright grin explodes on her face and Paige thinks it feels a little bit like a ray of sunshine bombarding into her otherwise cloudy world.
“Okay,” the little girl grins happily before holding out a tiny hand, “I’m Stephanie Katarina Fudd.”
Paige laughs at the formality as she shakes Stephanie’s hand, “I’m Paige Madison Bueckers.”
“Nice to meet you Miss Buecks,” Stephanie chirps as smiles up at the woman.
“It’s Bueckers,” Paige tries to correct as Stephanie scrunches up her nose.
“That’s what I said,” she says with a confused look on her face, “Miss Buecks.”
Paige opens her mouth to try and correct her again but stops, deciding she’s not about to argue with the little girl and that she quite likes the incorrect way Stephanie says her name. Instead she lets herself fall to the ground, leaning against the pillar as she stretches out her legs in front of her. Stephanie raises an eyebrow at the actions but eventually sits down next to her and Paige smiles. They sit in silence for a bit as Paige reaches for her phone, considering texting Azzi for a brief second before she eventually decides to text Jana -who she thinks might just be Stephanie’s Aunty J- instead to let Azzi know Stephanie was with her.
“I know you,” Stephanie says suddenly and Paige looks away from the phone to see the little girl’s eyes wide with recognition.
“I thought you said I was a stranger,” Paige cocks a teasing eyebrow.
“You are,” Stephanie says matter-of-factly, “but I seen you at Mama’s game sometimes.”
“I’ve seen you too,” Paige admits.
“You’re good at bask-ball,” Stephanie states and the thing is, Paige has heard and read so many people say she’s great at basketball but there’s something about the way Stephanie says it -something about the genuine innocence of it- that makes her beam with pride.
“I guess I am,” she bumps Stephanie’s shoulder as she winks at her.
“I love bask-ball,” Stephaniee’s eyes gleam as she says it and Paige knows that expression -knows that slight look of madness that’s just the beginning of falling in love with a sport.
“Yeah?” she asks casually, “you play ball?”
Stephanie nods enthusiastically, “Mama got me a hoop for Ch-istmas -just like the one she had when she littler- and she p-omised that when I’m bigger, she’s gonna lemme go bask-ball camp.”
It’s hard not to grin along with Stephanie’s ranting, especially not when her determination to play basketball -one that reminds Paige a lot of herself- shines through her words.
“You any good,” Paige teases, biting back a laugh when the little girl’s face contorts in offense, like she can’t even believe someone would have the audacity to question her basketball skills.
“Of course I am. I’m Azzi Fudd’s daughter,” Stephanie says proudly, blissfully unaware of the way Paige's smile wobbles for a second at the statement, “but Mama says one day, I’mma be even gooder than her.”
“Can I get your autograph now then?”
Stephanie scrunches her nose, “what’s an au-to-gra-ph?”
“Wait,” Paige stands up, on a mission to find a pen, but Stephanie immediately grabs her hand.
The little girl’s eyes are wide with anxiety as she looks up at Paige, “no Miss Buecks don’t leave me.”
“Oh sweetheart I’m not,” Paige crouches back down in front of Stephanie, thumbs reaching out to rub the little girl’s cheeks in reassurance, “I’m gonna go right there to get something,” she points to the the reception desk, “I’ll be back in one minutes. I swear.”
“Pinky p-omise?” Stephanie raises her pinky and Paige diligently intertwines her own around it.
“Pinky promise,” she says, before practically skipping over to where she’d spotted a cup-holder full of pens. She can feel Stephanie’s anxious eyes piercing into the back of her head and if possible, the smile she’s had on her face since meeting the little girl, somehow deepens. It’s dangerous, she knows, becoming so enamored with Azzi’s daughter but her heart has always moved faster than her head, and Paige still hasn’t quite figured out how to stop that.
“You’re back,” Stephanie claps happily when Paige comes back to her and the blonde beams at the affection in her voice.
“Told you I would be,” Paige grins as she plops back down next to the little girl, holding out the pen she’d found.
“Why you get pen?” Stephanie asks, staring at it like it’s a foreign object.
“Because you need a pen to give me your autograph,” Paige explains, “an autograph is when someone famous signs their name on something for someone,” she holds out her arm that is currently covered by a grey hoodie, “will you sign my hoodie?”
“Silly Miss Buecks,” Stephanie chides, “You and Mama are famous. I’m not famous.”
“Not yet. But if you’re as good at basketball as you say you are, then one day, Stephanie Katarina Fudd, you are gonna be so famous. Just like me and your Mama,” Paige taps the little girl’s nose, releasing the giggle it elicits from her and she thinks it might be her new favorite sound, “and I wanna be the first person who gets your autograph.”
“Can I get yours too?” Stephanie asks, her tone a little shy and Paige thinks that forget an autograph, she’d give her the world if she’d asked for it.
“Of course you can bean,” the nickname slips out before she can catch it and Paige’s mind travels back to her wedding day, back to the phone-call with Azzi.
“Mama calls me bean too,” Stephanie says, as she begins to messily try and write her name on the sleeve of Paige’s hoodie, “she calls me Stephie-bean.”
As if on cue, Azzi’s voice fills the air, tinged with a slight bit of panic and Paige feels her heart catch in her throat. Six years they’ve been apart, something always thrums in her every time she feels Azzi’s presence near her. But it feels almost electric this time. The memories of the last time they’d seen each other, the night they’d spent together after this year’s National Championship game linger in the air and Paige shivers like she can still feels the softness of Azzi’s skin underneath her fingertips; can still hear the breathlessness of her moans in her hears.
“Stephie-bean,” Azzi calls out and Stephanie’s eyes dart towards her mother’s voice as she immediately stands up, little feet tripping over each other as she rushes to get to the younger woman.
“MAMA,” Stephanie yells, flinging herself into her mother’s arms and Paige watches as Azzi cradles the little girl to her chest, kissing all over her face. Something pangs in her chest, and she wishes she were a part of that embrace too. And if all the dreams they’d dreamt together when they were younger had come true, she would’ve been.
“Stephie what have I said about running off,” Azzi scolds as she coaxes the little girl's face out of her neck.
“I din-t run off,” Stephanie defends petulantly, “I go to look at pu-ple flow-es cause they looked so pretty but then when I turned around, Aunty J gone,’ her face wobbles at the memory, “I was so scay-ed Mama cause I lost and ‘lone but then,” her voice changes immediately as she turns around to point at Paige, who freezes when Azzi’s gaze lands on her, “Miss Buecks find me!”
“Miss Buecks,” Azzi repeats dazedly as Stephanie begins to pull her towards Paige, unaware of the anxious tension between the two adults.
“This is Miss Buecks,” Stephahnie introduces the two of them, “she find me and she tol’ me she help me find you but I say that Stephie can’t move cause Stephie have to stay right here cause Mama says if Stephie lost, Stephie don’t move,” the little girl says animatedly and both adults laugh at the random switch to third-person, “but Miss Buckes say she’ll stay with me and so I not ‘care anymore cause I have Miss Buecks,” she says casually, naive to the way it makes both Paige and Azzi swallows, “and look Mama,” she eagerly grabs Paige’s sleeve, “I give Miss Buecks my auto-gaph.”
“That’s, that’s lovely sweetheart,” Azzi says softly before she turns to Paige -and Paige wonders if it’ll ever stop, if the way her stomach swoons every time the brunette looks at her will ever go away-, “thank you for texting Jana and thank you- thank you for staying with her.”
Paige shrugs as casually as she can, “don’t gotta thank me,” she nudges Stephanie, “we had a great time together didn’t we Stephanie?”
The little girl nods enthusiastically, “the great-est-est-est time,” she exclaims to her mother, “Miss Buecks is so cool.”
“Thanks Stephie-” Paige hesitates, unsure if she has the right to use the nickname, “Stephanie. You’re really cool too.”
Stephanie practically glows at the compliment, “Mama, Miss Buecks thinks I’m cool and- and- and- she say that I’m gonna be famous one day. That’s why she wanted my auto-gaph. Cause I’mma be a big bask-ball star just like you two.”
Azzi ruffles the little girl’s hair before looking at Paige with an indiscernible expression, “just like us huh?”
“Maybe even better,” Paige says softly.
“I guess we’ll find out,” Azzi grins before leaning down to pick her daughter up -the sight of it invoking something warm and fuzzy in Paige’s stomach- “alright Stephie-bean, say bye to Miss Buecks. We gotta go get ready the orange carpet and I gotta go yell at your Aunty J for losing you again,” she winks at Paige who lets out a laugh.
And she hasn’t laughed like this -laughed as much as she has in these last few minutes with Stephanie- in so long that she’d almost forgotten what it sounded like.
“Bye Miss Buecks,” Stephanie waves over her mother’s shoulder.
“Bye Stephanie,” Paige waves before hesitating for a second, and then she calls out, “hey Azzi?”
Azzi turns around slightly, humming in response, “what’s up?”
“I like that you call her Stephie-bean,” Paige admits nervously, hoping Azzi will understand what she means and by the way the brunette’s eyes soften, it’s clear she does.
“It just felt right,” Azzi says softly; her mouth opens like she wants to say more -something more than what their current colleague-esque relationship allows for- but in the end, she settles on something far more mundane, “see you around Bueckers.”
“See ya,” Paige whispers back and if she stands completely still, watching Stephanie and Azzi walking all the way until they turn a corner and she can’t see them anymore, well that’s nobody’s business but her own.
That’s the first night Paige lets herself wonder about the possibilities of becoming a Golden State Valkyrie.
***
June 2033
Dream 64 Valkyries 87
Paige has never had particularly strong feelings towards the Atlanta Dream. They weren’t a particularly bad team, nor were they a particularly great team and Paige had simply never had an experience with them -whether it was a fan of the league or as a player in it- that was worth remembering for her to feel anything towards them. But tonight, tonight Paige fucking hates the Atlanta Dream.
Okay maybe she doesn’t hate the team.
She hates a certain player, a certain #11 wearing French player who’d had the audacity to hold her Stephie, to wrap her arms around her Azzi. Paige had spent the first couple of minutes of warm-ups with a deep scowl on her face as she’d watched Clémence interact with her girls. She’d hated the way Stephie grinned at the French woman, hated the way Azzi had laughed at something she’d said. But most of all Paige hated that she hadn’t been able to do any of that -hadn’t been on the receiving end of Stephie’s giggles or Azzi’s warm smile- for almost three weeks now. God she missed them so fucking much.
It was until Jana had tapped her on the back -a knowing look in her teammate’s eyes- that Paige had finally turned away from the scene. She’d channeled all her anger and frustration into the game, playing as the most aggressive version of herself. And it had paid off in the form of a 31 points, 7 assists, 4 rebounds and 3 stocks game, another statline cementing her position in the rather early race for MVP. But all of that feels futile now as Paige -signing autographs before she had to head off to media- notices Stephie go racing back into Clémence’s arms, the little girl’s face bright with happiness as the French woman catches her and twirls her around. From the corner of her eyes, she notices Azzi walking towards the two of them and Paige normally loves Azzi’s smile -think’s it’s nothing short of being the prettiest sight in the world- but she thinks she might hate it a little bit right now when it’s directed at Clémence.
“Aunty Chérie,” Stephie’s squeals echo clearly in Paige’s ears, despite the noise of the crowd surround her, “you played so good today.”
“Merci ma chérie,” Clémence's voice is saccharine sweet, “I’m very happy to see you. I have missed you lots. I was thinking,” Paige continues to sign another jersey but her ears are fully tuned into the conversation happening a couple meters away as Clémence’s attention turns towards Azzi, “we are leaving tomorrow morning so I have some time tonight. So I was thinking maybe I could take you and Stephie out to dinner tonight? Unless-” Paige feels both Clemence’s and Azzi’s eyes flicker to herself and she tries to keep her focus on the fans in front of her, “unless perhaps you are going with someone else?”
Paige waits with bated breath for Azzi’s answer, wishing her telepathic plea for the brunette say no, could somehow reach her but it’s Stephie who answers first.
“Mama please can we go,” the little girl begs immediately -her tone one that Paige knows to be the one she uses when she’s trying to get her mother to agree, “please, please, please. We haven’t gotten dinner with Aunty Chérie in so long.”
“Stephie-” there’s hesitation in Azzi’s voice but Paige knows that she’s likely to cave into her daughter’s wishes -after all Stephie isn’t asking for anything ridiculous- and she knows she has to get away, not wanting to hear anymore about Clémence’s stupid fucking dinner plans.
Giving the fans in front of her a tight-lipped smile, Paige slowly backs away from them, eyes searching for Joyce -her companion to face the press tonight- as she heads towards the media-room. She’s so focused on looking for her teammate or perhaps she’s too in her head but she doesn’t spot the assistant carrying water bottles coming. The two of them collide with a large crash that rings around Chase Center as the bottles go flying across the court. Paige’s cheeks turn a deep shade of pink as she feels the eyes of everyone on her -none more piercing than Azzi’s- but she doesn’t dare turn around. Instead she shoots the assistant an apologetic look, gathering as many water bottles as in front of her, before she’s bolting to the press room, wondering what the fuck she's done for the universe to keep testing her like this.
***
Paige is the last person left in the locker room. By the time she and Joyce had returned from the press conference, most of the team had fizzled out. And so she’d taken her time -ignoring the weird look Joyce gave her considering normally they were all eager to get home- showering and getting changed. She’d come out of the shower to a desolate locker room and as she’d sat on the bench, drying her damp hair, she’d let herself succumb to all the thoughts she’d been suppressing.
It’s somehow worse this time; it hurts more in a way that Paige hadn’t known was possible. They hadn’t been together nearly as long as they were back then and their relationship was barely defined. But at least last time, Paige had been able to run to another side of the country where she wasn’t constantly reminded of her ex. Azzi isn’t even technically an ex this time, but there’s no avoiding her. Not when they’re on the same team, not when she’s a coach at her daughter’s camp. And Paige doesn’t quite know what’s harder, trying to find oxygen in an air devoid of Azzi and Stephie’s presence, or trying to breathe when they’re near her.
Perhaps that’s why it’s so different. Paige has lost Azzi before and even if that doesn’t make the hurt any less, at least she has a blueprint for how to cope with it. But she doesn’t know how to deal with losing Stephie, doesn’t know how to not miss the little girl’s smile and her big doey eyes and the way she’d used to wrap her arms around Paige like she was trying to bind them together forever.
But more than anything, more than missing Azzi or Stephie, Paige misses the three of them together. She misses Azzi’s exasperated look when she and Stephie would indulge in some sort of ridiculous drama. She misses the little girl’s mischievous look before she’d launch herself into both of their arms. She misses her own soft smile as she’d watch the two of them engage in the most mundane things. She misses the peaceful silence as they’d eat together and the noisy chaos when they’d argue over what movie to watch afterwards. She misses everything.
And the worst part is that she knows she wouldn’t be missing any of it, if it wasn’t for the barriers she’s put up herself. This is a cage of Paige’s own making and the key to open the lock rests in her own hands. She just needs to be brave enough to use it. Azzi words run amok in her head, the reassurance that Paige could have time clouded by the reluctant warning that eventually that time would run out.
“Hey,” she snaps herself out of her thoughts to see Azzi cautiously entering the locker room, her playing jersey swapped from a casual green top and cargo pants.
Paige swallows, “hi.”
“I uh- I was um-” Azzi’s eyes nervously dart around the room as she strides over to her locker, picking up the pink lipgloss -one Paige has the taste of memorized- that’s sitting on the bench under it, “I forgot this so I uh- I came back to grab it.”
“Cool,” Paige replies monotonously but her head’s already racing with thoughts of will you let her kiss it off of you the way you let me? And she knows -she trusts- that Azzi won’t but even the possibility of it lights a small fire within her.
Azzi chews on her lips as she nods, before starting to walk towards the door but she stops last second, turning around with the starts of a smile on her lips, “you were amazing tonight P. I mean you have been since the season started but tonight especially, you were just- you were you. You were awesome.”
Paige absorbs the compliments, tries to use it to douse the simmering jealousy that’s flaming up within her at the knowledge that once Azzi leaves this locker room, she’s likely going with Clémence.
“Thanks,” the blonde manages to get out and it’s a little short and rather icy but Paige thinks it’s probably better than saying all the other things that are on the tip of her tongue.
Azzi’s face dims at the curt reply, smile faltering as she nods, “anytime, P.”
That should be it. Paige should let her go, should be content with this small interaction that’s the most she’s gotten from outside of practice in weeks. But then the bitter words are waterfalling from her lips faster than she can stop them and despite the regret she feels immediately after, there’s a part of her that’s relieved when it makes Azzi come to a halt right in front of the door.
“Your girl played well too,” she bites out, the acidic words burning her tongue.
Azzi doesn’t turn around but Paige notices the way her shoulders go rigid, “don’t do this Paige. You know she’s not my girl.”
Paige ignores her, “11 points, 2 rebounds, 1 assist. Not bad numbers. Decent. But not better than yours of course.”
“Paige,” there's a warning note in Azzi’s voice, like she knows exactly where Paige is going with this.
“I’m just saying, “ Paige shrugs with a casualness that’s in stark contrast to the tension lingering in the air, “she’s a decent player. But you’d never be in her shadow. Never be known as just her anything.”
Azzi turns around slowly and Paige feels her anger dissipate as quickly as it had erupted when she takes in the way the brunette’s eyes are brimming with tears.
“Seriously?” Azzi grits out, “you’re seriously gonna throw that in my face right now?”
“I’m not throwing anything in your face. I’m stating a fact-”
“Oh bullshit-”
“It’s not bullshit,” Paige yells before she sucks in a sharp breath, closing her eyes to calm herself down before she continues, “it’s not bullshit,” she repeats, “it is a fact and that fact is the reason why we’re here right now.”
“What do you mean?” Azzi crosses her arms across her body.
“Nine years ago you said no-”
“Oh my god,” Azzi says exasperatedly, “we can’t keep going over this again.”
“We have to Azzi,” Paige cuts her off, “we have to because you said no. And you broke my heart and you broke my trust. And that’s why we’re here right now. That’s why I made the deal with the Liberty and that’s why I can’t let of my escape plan and that’s why I can’t promise to stay and that’s why we have to keep going over it. Because I’m trying, “her voice cracks as the first tear slides down, “god Azzi- I’m trying so fucking hard baby but how do I know you won’t say no me -to us- again?”
Azzi stares at her with an undecipherable expression, her fists clenching and unclenching by her sides. It feels like an eternity passes in between them as they look at each other, breathing heavily almost in sync, until the brunette finally speaks.
“Well how do I know you won’t leave again?”
Paige blinks in confusion, “excuse me?”
“You keep accusing me of all of these things Paige but you’re the one that keeps leaving,” Azzi says and they both know she isn’t just talking about nine years ago, “I know- I know I made a mistake. But when I said no all I asked for was a little bit of time. That’s all I asked for Paige. Time. Just like you’re asking for right now. And I know- I know we said a whole lot of shit that night -I said a bunch of fucking things I shouldn’t have- but- god Paige you didn’t even give it a day. I came to find you less than 24 hours later and you were gone,” she chokes on the last word and Paige wants nothing more than to cradle the younger woman in her arms, take away her pain and shield her from ever feeling anything like it again.
“Az-”
“And if you’d just waited -just given me a little bit of time,” Azzi continues as if she hadn’t even heard the blonde attempt to speak, “then maybe you would have known that I wasn’t saying no forever. Just for a little bit, just for then. But you just- you left.”
“You said a lot more than just no,” Paige says frustratedly.
It’s Azzi’s turn to look guilty and Paige can almost see the memories of that night flashing in her mind, “I know that but I would’ve taken it all back if you’d just waited.”
“How could I have known that?” Paige whispers and she’s not sure if she’s defending herself from Azzi or from that voice in her head -the one she’d done her best to silence- that’s always wondered if she’d made a mistake immediately leaving for Dallas the morning after.
“You couldn’t have,” Azzi says softly, sounding almost defeated, “the same way that you don’t know that I won’t say no again. The same way that I don’t know if you’ll leave again,” she sighs as she sits down next to Paige, “but that’s life Paige. We don’t know what’s gonna happen in the future and we can’t- we can’t predict what someone else will do. All we can do is try and trust ourselves and trust each other.”
“You make it sound so easy,” Paige nudges her shoulder and Azzi lets out a short laugh.
“I know it’s not. Trust me, I know it’s hard. There’s about five hundred different voices in my head saying that I should stop waiting or whatever it is I’m doing right now. That I should let you go for good. That even if you end this whole Liberty bullshit, you’ll still leave me -leave us- eventually.”
“But?” Paige presses and she feels like she’s teetering on the edge of a cliff, like the next words out of Azzi’s mouth will determine whether she falls or flies.
“But,” Azzi breathes out as she turns to look at Paige with a slightly wistful smile, “there’s this one voice in my head, clearer than all the rest that says I should trust you -that I should believe in us- that maybe we just need to get through this one last hurdle to get back to each other,” the younger woman reaches out to squeeze Paige’s hand gently before she stands up, “I think you just need to find that voice too P.”
“I’m scared Az,” Paige says softly.
“I am too,” Azzi admits as she leans down to brush the blonde’s tears away with her thumb, “trusting is really fucking scary. I get it. but maybe- maybe it would be a little less scary if we did it together.”
Paige shudders when Azzi presses a kiss to her forehead, the brunette's lips lingering long after she’s embedded every unspoken thought into it. She pulls away almost reluctantly, patting Paige’s cheeks lightly before starting to walk back towards the door.
“Azzi,” the blonde calls out, mouth going a little drying when Azzi turns over her shoulder, “don’t go to dinner with Clémence.”
Go with me. Let me take you and Stephie out to dinner instead.
“Don’t hold on to the deal with the Liberty,” Azzi says quietly in lieu of an actual answer, “say you’ll stay.”
Paige falters, “Az I-”
“I already told you P,” there’s a sad smile on Azzi’s face before she turns away, “you can have time or you can have us but you can’t have both. Not right now.
“Azzi-”
“I hope you find that voice soon Paige and I hope it leads you back to me.”
***
August 2032
Paige is standing in a corner -a dirty Shirley in her hand- cackling at a joke that Cam had just made when she sees her entering and the laughter dies in her throat. Cam notices the change immediately, her eyes tracking Paige’s gaze until they land on the brunette who’s being pulled into a series of congratulatory hugs by players from other countries.
“So where did y’all go last night?” the LA Sparks center asks casually
“What?” Paige asks distractedly, her eyes narrowing when she notices a familiar French player inching towards the door for a hug of her own.
“You and Azzi,” Cam clarifies and Paige swallows at the mention of her name, “y’all disappeared while we were all still celebrating. Lowkey felt like we were back in Belarus all over again when y’all just kept going off somewhere with each other,” the taller woman shoots Paige a teasing grin, “so where’d you go?”
“Just uh- just needed some air,” Paige bites her lip at the lie.
Because the truth is that once they’d left the hotel bar, and they’d practically pounced on each other -from the elevator till they’d made it to Paige’s hotel room- they’d barely come up for air. The feeling of each other’s lips and bare skin was more intoxicating than any drink they’d consumed -maybe even more intoxicating than the Olympic Gold medal they’d finally won together earlier that day- and neither of them seemed to care about unimportant matters such as breathing.
Cam quirks an eyebrow as she sips at her drink, “if you say so Bueckers.”
“I do say so,” Paige retorts before dislodging herself from the wall she’d been leaning against, eyes still tracking every moment Azzi made, “we should- we should go say hi.”
“We should, should we?” Cam smirks but the sweet angel she is, she falls into step easily with Paige as they start walking across the room.
The banquet hall is buzzing with players dancing and drinking and mingling with each other. Now that the basketball portion of the Olympics was over, they’d all returned from being fierce competitors playing for their country, to being the friendly co-players they all were. Laughter and chatter fills the air as teammates and rivals alike, reconnect at the FIBA-sponsored party that had almost all of the women’s basketball players participating in Bris2032 in attendance.
“Azziiii,” Cam squeals as the two of them finally reach the Valkyries superstar who’d just finished hugging Gabby.
Azzi grins when she sees Cam but it slips a little when she notices Paige next to her. She’s quick to fix it, eyes going back to Cam as she pulls the taller woman into a hug. Something pinches against Paige’s heart and she forces herself to look away; her gaze landing instead on where Gabby has walked away from the three of them to slip an arm around Marine’s waist. Paige stares wistfully at the scene -at the way Marine relaxes into Gabby’s touch as she continues whatever conversation she’d been involved in. It’s all she wants and instinctively, her eyes wander back to Azzi.
“Hey,” Paige says slowly as Azzi lets go of Cam, disappointment coursing through her veins when all she gets is a nod of acknowledgement.
“So Azzi I was just asking Paige here, where y’all disappeared to last night?” Cam asks with a teasing tone.
Azzi blanches as the question, “oh um- I- uh I wanted to go check in on Stephie.”
“And you needed Paige to come with you for that?”
A distinctly pink hue begins at the base of Azzi’s neck, climbing up until it tints her cheeks, “I was a little tipsy and uh- just wanted the support I guess.”
Paige almost snorts at the response. Azzi had been way beyond tipsy and Paige wouldn’t have been any support, considering she’d been maybe two drinks away from blacking out. But she supposes, Cam probably doesn’t need to know that and she definitely doesn’t need to know what it had led to.
“Interesting,” the taller blonde looks between the two women as she takes another sip of her drink, “Paige just said y’all needed some air.”
“I mean that- that was definitely a part of it too. The bar was getting pretty hot-” this time Paige does snort at Azzi’s answer which gets her an amused look from Cam and a very unamused look from the brunette herself.
Cam puts her hands up in surrender, “listen if Paige says y’all needed air and if you say you needed to go see Stephie, I believe you,” she says but that cheeky grin on her face says the exact opposite.
“Speaking of Stephie. It’s uh- it’s almost her bedtime and I should uh- I should call my Mom so I can say goodnight,” Azzi manages a tightlipped smile towards the two other women before she disappears into the crowd, heading towards the balcony.
Paige hesitates for a second before she turns to face Cam and that shit-eating, knowing smirk on her friend’s face almost has her giving into her pride and swallowing the words she’s about to say. Almost.
“I’m uh- I’mma go to,” she stumbles out.
“Oh of course,” Cam grins sly, “bet Azzi needs some more support huh?”
Paige shakes her head, flashing Cam her middle finger -and rolling her eyes when it causes the taller woman to laugh- as she follows after Azzi. The chill Brisbane air swarms around her as she steps out into the balcony. Azzi’s standing right by the railing, her phone held right above her as she facetimes her daughter. Paige catches on quickly to the conversation, realizing that the little girl is telling her mother about how Tim had let her have ice-cream after dinner.
“Stephanie Katarina Fudd,” Paige hears Tim’s voice echo through the phone as Stephanie’s eyes go wide on the screen, “I thought it was gonna be our little secret?”
She holds in a laugh, leaning back against the door, as the little girl splutters trying to justify her tattle-taling, “it’s Mama, Pops. I can’t hide things from my Mama.”
Tim scoffs but there’s no genuine irritation to it, “that’s the last time I give you ice-cream.”
Stephanie shoots him an unimpressed look, “you say that all the time Pops and then you give me ice-cream anyways.”
“She’s got you there,” Katie choruses from the back and Paige watches as she high-five her grand-daughter.
And she doesn’t quite know what that pang in her chest means, but she’s felt it every time she’s seen Stephani and the Fudds over the course of the Olympics. The Fudds had come to Brisbane -of course they had- and every time Paige caught sight of them in the stands or watched them from the corner of her eyes, it felt like something was stinging against her rib cage. They’d all had custom #35 Azzi jerseys and their cheers were louder than every other voice in the arena any time Team USA did anything and after each win, they’d been the first people down the stairs, ready to hug envelope Azzi in a hug. At the forefront of it was Stephanie, who’d ran into her mother’s arms at lightning quick speed and Paige had watched -hoping she was being at least somewhat conspicuous- as Azzi had spun the little girl around.
It wasn’t that the Fudds ignored Paige. In fact they’d made it a point to come over to her right after to wrap her up amidst themselves. Stephanie had come over too, her smile shy as she’d congratulated Paige on the wins. The little girl clearly didn’t quite remember their interaction from all-star last year -her eyes regarding Paige almost like a stranger- and the blonde consoles herself with the fact that Stephanie’s only four. Four year olds weren’t known for remembering things that had happened when they were three. Still, it hurt a little bit considering Paige thinks of that interaction more than she probably should.
But even though she’d still gotten the hugs and the smiles and the congratulations, it wasn’t quite the same, wasn’t anything like she’d picture during the conversations of we’ll get customized 5+35 Bueckers-Fudd jerseys for the Olympics she’d once had with Tim and Katie.
“Alright Stephie-Bean, Mama’s gonna head back into the party-” Paige refocuses on the conversation just in time to hear Azzi get cut off by her rather dramatic daughter.
“I can’t bel-ieve you went to another party without me Mama,” Stephanie drags out the words, “no Mama-good-night-kisses cause she pick party-time over Stephie time.”
The little girl’s joking but Paige can tell by the way it makes Azzi pause for a second -her shoulder stiffening just a little bit- that it’s hit a nerve. She wants to soothe it away, wants to wrap her arms around her from behind, hitch her chin over her neck and take away all of Azzi’s worries. And that bitter thought -the one that seems to surface every time her heart beats a little faster for the brunette, the one that had filled her head when she’d woken up next to the younger woman earlier this morning- takes birth in her head again. The thought she could have done all of that -would have the right to do it- if only Azzi had just said yes.
“I’ll make it up to you Stephie-bean,” she hears Azzi promise, “tomorrow, just you and me okay sweetheart? All of my time’s gonna be yours.”
Stephanie’s face immediately brightens up, “okay Mama,” she says happily as she blows a kiss to the screen, “love you Mama. Good night.”
“Good night sweet girl. I love you more,” Azzi choruses back, waving at the screen before she cuts the call.
It takes her a moment to turn around and Paige watches as Azzi takes in a deep breath, a subtle smile on her face as she takes in the Brisbane skyline. When she does finally turn around, surprise filters onto her expression at seeing the blonde standing there.
“Hey,” Paige whispers nervously, stuffing her hands into the pocket of her pants.
Azzi looks at her for a moment, “hi.”
They stand there rigidly, letting the tension -a completely different kind than the one that had encompassed them last night- simmer between them. It’s almost like they're daring each other to say something, to address the elephant in the room.
Azzi breaks first, “something you wanted to say?”
“Just wanted some air,” Paige says, cringing a little bit at the cliché line that she’s now used twice in one night.
“Right,” Azzi nods, moving towards the door, “guess I’ll leave you to it then.”
Her voice is tinged with an iciness that sets Paige on edge. They haven’t been like this in a while and she’d thought they’d let go of the resentful exes gimmick they’d had going on for the first couple of years. But the hardness in Azzi’s tone suggests that it’s back with vengeance tonight.
“Az-” Paige calls out.
“What?” Azzi asks loudly, biting her lip when the harshness of it almost makes the blonde stumble back, “sorry I-”
But before she can apologize, Paige finds herself retaliating with the same hardness in her own tone, “what’s your fucking problem?”
“My problem?” Azzi reels back, eyes flashing with anger, “are you seriously asking me that?”
“Yes. That’s clearly what I asked,” Paige retorts.
Azzi laughs devoid of emotion, “I woke up to an empty bed this morning and you’re asking me what my fucking problem is?”
Guilt inches it’s way up Paige’s spine but it pales in comparison to the anger that flickers in the pit of her stomach, “oh that’s rich coming from you.”
“Excuse me?”
“Is that not exactly what you did last time we fucked,” the profanity tastes acetous as it falls through Paige’s lips because it sounds wrong, like she’s insulting the sanctity of their relationship, no matter how broken it might be.
“No it’s not,” Azzi nostrils flare, “I told you I was leaving. I had the common fucking decency to let you know. I didn’t just sneak out.”
Paige rolls her eyes, “oh spare me the semantics. It’s all the same shit at the end of the day. We both left.”
“Oh fuck you Paige,” Azzi snarls as she tries to leave but Paige is quicker, fingers wrapping around her wrist to stop her.
And everything she’d been prepared to say dies in her throat because now they’re too close, chests heaving in harmony as their matching glares turn into something else. Paige’s eyes fall to Azzi’s lips, breath hitching when the brunette’s tongue darts out for a second to wet them. She tugs on Azzi’s wrist experimentally, pleased when there’s little hesitation and the younger woman lets herself be pulled closer. The air is electric with want as they lean in slowly, their noses brushing against each other as they wait for each other to make a move, to close the distance.
But then there’s the sound of someone clearing their throat, followed by someone else coughing and the two of them spring apart like they’ve been burned.
“Jesus Az, careful!” Jana’s concerned voice makes Paige’s ears perk up and she follows the Egyptians line of sight to see that Azzi had moved back so fast that she’d fallen back against the balcony railing.
“I’m fine,” Azzi says hurriedly but the shake in her voice betrays that she’s anything but.
“Are you?” Paige turns to find Aaliyah watching them with the wary gaze of someone who’s been around them and their bullshit far too long, “because uh- we can hear y’all yelling from inside.”
Azzi’s eyes shoot up, panic evident on her face, “you heard us? Did you- could you hear what we said?”
Paige scoffs loudly, “oh right yeah because that would be really fucking bad wouldn’t be it Azzi? God forbid anyone found out you fucked me.”
And she doesn’t even know why she’s arguing -honestly she’s just as embarrassed at the idea of their teammates and rivals and everyone else in between actually overhearing their argument- but it pinches a nerve and she pointedly looks away from Azzi’s ashen face.
“You guys fucked?” Paige flinches at how loud Jana is and Aaliyah lets out a low groan.
“Jana,” the Canadian warns, pinching the bridge of her nose.
“Sorry but like,” Jana looks back and forth between Paige and Azzi, dropping her voice, “y’all fucked?”
Paige sighs, feeling drained as she leans back against a pillar for support, “that’s what I said yes.”
If possible, Jana’s eyes get even wider, “so- so what does that mean for the two of you? Are you- are y’all gonna get back together?”
Azzi looks at Paige.
Paige looks at Azzi.
And it’s like they’re both imploring each other to answer Jana’s question and to answer it right.
“It means nothing,” it’s the wrong answer and Paige knows it even before she says it -can tell by the way Azzi barely reacts that she knows Paige doesn’t even really believe herself- but she thinks maybe they’re not quite ready to get it right. Not yet.
“Well there you go,” Azzi says quietly, shrugging nonchalantly at Jana, “it means nothing.”
Paige flinches at the repetition of her own words, looking away as Azzi starts walking towards the door again. The brunette’s shoulder brushes against the older woman’s -sparks igniting around them- and she hesitates.
“It means nothing,” Azzi repeats, her voice a longing whisper only meant for Paige’s ears, “but maybe it could’ve meant something. If you’d stayed.”
***
June 2033
Paige is sulking in her room -watching film to distract herself from the images of Clémence, Azzi and Stephie together from last night that her brain is hellbent on conjuring up- when her pity party is broken up by the sound of her doorbell. She has the urge to ignore it, to stay curled up in the same position she’s been in all day. It’s a rather pathetic way to have spent one of her rare days off but it’s the only thing she’d felt like doing. But then whoever’s outside her door starts to press the bell longer and Paige huffs -irritated by the loudness of it- as she forces herself out of bed.
She’s not sure who she was expecting. Perhaps Jana, who’d caught on rather quickly to what was happening between her two former teammates and had been making somewhat of an attempt to help fix it. Maybe Colleen, here to knock some sense into her on Azzi’s behalf. Or maybe even Tessa, who Paige had learned in the most awkward way, knew about them when the former Gamecock had made a teasing remark about the two of them the next practice, not knowing what had transpired two nights before. When both Paige and Azzi had immediately tensed, instead of blushing or rolling their eyes, Tessa had been perceptive enough to understand something had gone wrong. She’d been trying to help Jana ever since and Paige half expects it to be her at the door with words of wisdom and comfort alike.
Who she isn’t expecting is Tim Fudd.
His wife, she would’ve understood. After all Katie had done exactly that before and it was in the older woman’s nature to meddle just a little bit. Her husband, on the other hand, tended to stay as far out of things as possible. He could be a hovering coach and whenever Azzi’s spirits were low, he’d be there with a ridiculous dad joke and arms outstretched for a big bear hug. But when it came to his daughter’s personal life, Tim Fudd did his best not to interfere.
Tim smiles at Paige when she opens the door, one hand holding up a bottle of whiskey with a grin on his face while his other hand is hidden behind his back. He rolls his eyes fondly when he notices the skeptical look Paige shoots at his liquor of choice before he reveals the premade bottle of dirty Shirley he’s been hiding behind his back.
“Tsk tsk,” he grins mockingly, “what would the fans say if they knew their big bad rizzler can’t drink anything but a sweet cocktail?”
Paige shakes her head as she steps aside to let the man inside, “just cause I don’t drink cheap whiskey, doesn’t mean I don’t drink anything other than cocktails.”
“Cheap?!” Tim guffaws as the accusation, “I’ll have you know this is a Macallan.”
“You know that that means nothing to me right,” Paige says as she follows his lead into her kitchen.
It’s almost foreign having somebody else in her space. Since Drew had left -rather hesitantly after seeing his sister’s condition- the house had been devoid of anyone else but Paige. Jana had tried to invite herself over a couple of times but it had gone in vain when Paige had chosen solitude over any company. It’s not that she particularly wants to be alone, it’s that she thinks -no, she knows- that there’s only two people who can cure this dreadful loneliness that feels like it’s become an innate part of existence.
“Sit,” Tim says as he rummages through Paige’s cupboards for two glasses.
Hesitating for a split second, Paige does as she's told, “did Azzi send you?”
“Are you hoping she did?’ Tim asks pointedly as he places two glasses one top of the counter, filling one with whiskey and other with dirty Shirley.
Paige swallows as she accepts the drink from his hand, “nah,” lies, “ just uh- just feels like something she’d do.”
Tim looks at her for a minute as he takes a sip of his whiskey.
“She didn’t send me,” he says finally and Paige tries to mask the tinge of disappointment his words send through her by taking a large swig of her shirley.
“This tastes like shit,” she grimaces, wiping her mouth with the back of hand.
“That premade stuff usually does. It’s that easy shit you know? The things that just exist without you doing any work. Just doesn’t hit the same as the harder stuff,” Tim says slowly as he leans back against his chair, a clear double meaning in his words.
“You’re using alcohol as a metaphor? So I guess Katie sent you then?” Paige manages a half-smile but she feels her stomach churn at the implication of what he’d just said.
Tim laughs, “it was my idea actually.”
“Her meddling rubbing off on you?” Paige quirks an eyebrow.
Tim shakes his head, “I’m not here to meddle. Just wanted to tell you a story.”
Paige sighs, “so you are here to meddle then.”
Tim ignores her, fiddling with the glass of whiskey in his hands, “did you know Katie and I almost didn’t end up together?”
Paige stares at the older man in shock. Maybe she shouldn’t be so surprised; relationships were complicated after all. But for all the years she’d known Tim and Katie, they’d always been just that. TimAndKatie. The epitome of stableness that had stood strong amongst all the other relationships Paige had watched break down one by one.
“Don’t look so shocked,” Tim says lightly when he notices how wide Paige’s eyes have gotten, “everyone makes mistakes. We’re all capable of doing dumb shit that almost makes us lose everything we’ve ever loved.”
Paige gulps, “what- what did you do?”
“I left,” Tim says slowly.
“You left?” the familiar words make Paige nauseous and she wonders if that slightly regretful look on Azzi’s dad’s face is echoed on her own.
“It was a couple months into our relationship and Katie and I had a huge fight. It was about her not letting me make a decision about Azzi,” Tim explains and the similarity of the situation almost makes Paige want to block her ears.
“It was something small, something stupid. Probably nothing that even mattered cause I don’t even remember it. But I remember how I felt. I was really fucking mad but more than anything I think- I think I was scared. Because that argument, it was a remind that even though I loved her so fucking much, Azzi wasn’t mine. Not yet. And that if I lost Katie, I’d lose her too. The idea of losing Katie was scary enough but losing both of them? I didn’t know how to deal with that,” Tim's voice shakes, like he’s relieving his biggest fears and Paige feels her own eyes start to water; his words settling salt in her still-raw open wounds.
“And it got so heated and we were yelling all this bullshit at each other that eventually I just- I didn’t know what else to do and I just- I started to leave. And Azzi- I guess we were so loud we woke her up- she- she saw me leaving,” there’s an unfamiliar grave look on the normally jovial old man’s face as he reminisces that night, “she ran down the stairs and threw herself at my knees begging me not to go but I- I was so mad and so fucking scared that I walked away anyways.”
“How- how did you fix it?” Paige asks, her voice almost pleading as she wipes away the droplets of water running freely down her cheeks.
“Well not immediately that’s for sure,” Tim cracks a smile, trying to lighten the mood, “took me a little bit of time to pull my head out of my ass and when I finally did, Katie wasn’t so quick to forgive me for it either. And it wasn’t about her or me or us, it was about Azzi. The first time I showed up, she didn’t even let me in. Said she could only let me through that door again if I could promise to stay. Because Azzi had seen me leave once and she wasn’t gonna let her see it again.”
“It must’ve killed you,” Paige whispers, her stomach twisting in knots, “the guilt of hurting her.”
Tim nods, “it did but I think- or at least I hope I’ve made up for it now.”
“You have,” Paige reaches over to squeeze his arm gently, “how did you get her to forgive you?”
“Simple,” Tim places his own hand over hers as he continues, “we talked it out. I explained all my fears to her. How scared I was of losing her, of losing Azzi. And she- she understood because she was scared too, scared of losing me, scared of Azzi losing me. In the end we were both scared of the same thing but all of that got a whole lot less scary when we faced it together.”
Maybe it would be a little less scary if we did it together
“How did you get over it,” Paige asks, almost desperately, “the fear of losing them? How did you move past that?”
Tim smiles wistfully, “time. Not time apart but time together. It wasn’t easy taking that first step, facing that fear but I knew if I wanted them, it was what I was gonna have to do. And I had to trust Katie, that if I stayed, she’d stay.”
“And she stayed,” Paige says softly.
“Yeah she did,” this time, Tim’s grin breaks through his entire, “and the more time she stayed, the more my trust in her grew until one day I just knew. I knew she wasn’t gonna leave ever again. Well, maybe she’s thought about it a couple of times like when I nearly burnt the house down tryna make cookies or when I accidentally tore a hole in our wall tryna hang up a photo frame.
Paige lets out a watery laugh as Tim winks at her, everything suddenly seeming a lot more simple than it had before the older man had walked through her door.
“I know it’s not quite the same for you and Azzi,” Tim continues slowly, “you guys have a history that Katie and I didn’t. You both have more reasons to be scared than the two of us did. But Paige, I’ve always thought you were it for my baby girl. From the moment she came back from USA camp and all she could talk about was you, I just knew.”
Paige can’t help the broken sob that escapes her lips and Tim immediately rounds the kitchen counter to wrap an arm around her shoulder.
“When she was pregnant with Stephie, she kept on asking for mint-choc chip ice cream. Said it was a craving or something. And she decorated everything for her in purple. All the baby clothes she bought were shades of purple,” he doesn’t quite say why Azzi did all of that but there’s a clear implication in his words.
And Paige thinks that probably, why she and Stephie are so similar, why they shared so many favorites, why the little girl had always felt like hers. Because Azzi had given a part of Paige to her daughter, even when she hadn’t had Paige herself.
“Katie and Azzi, they’re mine but I think- I think if maybe someone else had gotten to them first -someone who loved them just as much as I do- maybe there’s a chance things would be different but Paige,” Tim squeezes the younger woman gently, “I think Azzi’s always been waiting for you. Subconsciously at least. There’s never really been anybody elese for her. Her and Stephie, they’ve both always been waiting for you, they’ve both always been yours.”
“You mean that?” Paige asks croakily and she feels like she’s a teenager again, asking Tim to pinky promise that he’d like her box-dyed purple hair no matter what.
“I do,” Tim smiles as he looks at her, “and I think they’ll be yours forever. I think they want to be. You just have to say you’ll stay.”
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is it real? TWST
It was another average day at Night Raven College, or at least as average as days could be at a magical academy. Yuu, the Prefect of Ramshackle Dorm, had been minding her own business in the alchemy lab when disaster struck. A misfired potion from Ace—unsurprisingly—resulted in a cascade of chaotic reactions, one of which ended with Yuu being engulfed in a suspiciously glittery cloud of smoke.
Yuu coughed as the sparkles dissipated, her classmates staring at her in a mix of concern and curiosity. At first, she felt fine—no sudden tail growth or transformation into an animal. But by the time lunch rolled around, she began noticing something... strange. Her thoughts, usually kept securely locked behind her shy demeanor, were slipping out of her mouth unfiltered.
She realized this when she passed by Vil in the cafeteria and blurted, “How do you manage to look so flawless even when you’re eating? Like, do you have a beauty aura or something?” Vil had merely raised an eyebrow and smirked, but Yuu had slapped her hands over her mouth in horror and hurried to her usual table.
Now seated with Ace, Deuce, and Jack, Yuu was doing her best to keep quiet and not embarrass herself further. But as the conversation meandered from homework to random gossip, her mind betrayed her once more.
“Hey, Jack,” she said suddenly, interrupting a perfectly normal discussion about next week’s flying class. “Is anything about the omegaverse real?”
The table went silent.
Ace choked on his juice, and Deuce froze mid-bite, his forkful of mashed potatoes hanging in the air. Jack’s ears twitched, and his normally composed demeanor faltered as he blinked at her in disbelief.
“W-What?” Jack stammered, his tail flicking nervously behind him.
Yuu’s brain screamed at her to shut up, but the words just kept coming. “I mean, you’re a beastman, and you’ve got, like, heightened senses and stuff, right? So is there, like, some truth to all that—” she waved her hands vaguely, “you know, alpha, beta, omega dynamic stuff? Like, do beastmen have… you know, special instincts or…?”
Jack’s face turned an alarming shade of red. “That’s not—we don’t—what are you even talking about?!” he sputtered, clearly flustered.
Ace was wheezing with laughter by now, practically collapsing onto the table. “Oh my Seven, Prefect, I didn’t know you had it in you! What kind of books are you reading?!”
Deuce, ever the earnest one, looked genuinely distressed. “Yuu, are you feeling okay? That potion accident earlier… maybe it’s messing with your head.”
“Yeah, that must be it,” Yuu mumbled, burying her face in her hands. “Oh my god, why did I say that?”
Jack, still recovering from his embarrassment, crossed his arms and avoided eye contact. “For the record, no, nothing about that… weird fiction stuff is true,” he muttered. “Beastmen are just… normal people with some different traits. That’s all.”
“Good to know,” Yuu said weakly, wishing she could sink into the floor and disappear.
“I think we need to take you back to the lab,” Deuce said, his expression one of genuine concern. “Maybe Professor Crewel can fix whatever’s going on with you.”
“Please,” Yuu groaned, still hiding her face. “The sooner, the better.”
As Ace continued to laugh and Jack tried to regain his composure, Yuu resolved to never set foot in the alchemy lab again. At least, not without a sturdy protective barrier between herself and any of Ace’s future experiments.
TAGLIST: @lunasmisosoup @soramcduckahyucky
DIVIDER: me :)
#twisted wonderland#x reader#jack howl#ace trappola#deuce spade#omegaverse#questions#crack fic#potion mishap#astro writes#oneshot#twst wonderland#twst#twisted wonderland disney#disney twst#twst mc#twisted wonderlan
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requesting for the ill be there for you universe! the kids are coming over so steve and r plan a lil dinner party… well they make the dinner together… and its just a little too domestic…. bonus if they end up dancing to some silly song on the radio because arent we all a sucker for dancing in the kitchen 😭😭😭😭😭 the kids walk in on them and are like 🤨🤨 those two need to get together now so baddddddddddd
𝐌𝐀𝐘𝐁𝐄 𝐓𝐇𝐈𝐒 𝐘𝐄𝐀𝐑


"i'll be there for you" universe masterlist
pairing: bestfriend!roommate!steve harrington x fem!reader
word count: 1.6k words
warnings: explicit language
summary: in which a new year’s dinner at the apartment sparks a bet— that you and steve are completely unaware of— among the friend group
author's note: thank u for the request !! happy new year<33
general note: everything in this universe/series can be read as standalone oneshots but to understand the full “lore” it would prob be best to read the other stuff too<333
.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.
Winter 1986
Steve heard the knock on the door first; you were way too engrossed in singing along to the song that was loudly playing to notice the sound.
He maneuvered around you in the kitchen to go answer the door as you took a quick peek in the oven to check on the lasagnas.
It was your idea to have this “New Year’s dinner” at the apartment— since you and Steve had been sick during the holidays and couldn’t see anyone, this was to make up for that— and Steve agreed. Of course, Robin and Eddie said that they would come, and then the kids were an immediate yes as well.
Even though your and Steve’s collective cooking skills were not the best, you both still wanted to attempt and cook something for everyone, instead of simply ordering a couple of pizzas or takeout from some place. So, you got a lasagna recipe from Miss Johnson that she promised was very basic and couldn’t really be messed up; and so far, she’d been right. Although you did initially have to remake the sauce because of a mess up that you fully blamed on Steve and he fully blamed on you. But, after that, everything else luckily went fine.
When Steve opened the door and you looked over to see everyone bounding into the apartment, it was then that you remembered just how big the friend group was— you could only imagine what that elevator ride up to the apartment had been like.
“Is this The Breakfast Club soundtrack?” Robin asked, laughing as she slipped off her coat.
“Yes,” Steve answered. “This is what I’ve been subjected to for the past week.”
You immediately rolled your eyes at his words, which you somehow managed to hear over the loud music. “Oh, shut up, you were just singing along to the last song with me.”
“There’s only some truth to that,” He said as he walked over to the record player to turn the music down a bit.
Everyone settled at the dining table that Steve’s mom bought for you two for the Thanksgiving dinner that you’d been forced to have here with your parents— that was still somehow a memory that lingered harshly in the back of your mind, like most interactions with your parents did. The table was only meant to fit six people, so the desk chairs that normally sat in your bedrooms were pulled out and placed at the table, and then two foldable chairs were borrowed from your other next door neighbor; this guy in his mid-sixties who would have weekly poker nights with his friends. You would continuously joke around with Steve and tell him that he should join in on the poker nights. In response, he’d always simply roll his eyes at you because you knew that he was bad at poker and he’d also rather not spend his Tuesday nights with random old men.
Mike walked over to you and handed you a tupperware full of what you could tell were gingerbread cookies. “Since you missed the Christmas party, my mom wanted me to give these to you.”
You immediately smiled. “Holy shit, God bless that woman. Please tell her I said thank you.”
He nodded at that and then went over to the table, sitting down next to El.
Steve went back over to where you were in the kitchen and started reaching for the tupperware, but you immediately shooed his hand away. When he simply pouted at you, you rolled your eyes and then opened it so that he could grab a cookie, which he did and then broke it in half so that he could give a piece of it to you.
“Is it just me or have they been acting extra old married couple lately?” Dustin asked, looking away from the interaction that just happened.
“Oh, yeah, definitely,” Max answered almost immediately and pretty much everyone else simply nodded in agreement.
Neither you nor Steve were paying any attention to the conversation that was currently taking place barely ten feet away from you; instead you both were focused on finishing up the food. You were pulling one of the lasagnas out of the oven and Steve was grabbing the other before putting the store bought garlic bread in the oven— you both had figured that if the lasagna did end up turning out bad, there would at least be bread that neither of you had a hand in making to somewhat save the day.
“I fully believe that this will be the year that they finally get together,” Lucas said, sounding very certain.
Robin shook her head at that. “No way. If they were gonna date, it would’ve happened already. Years ago, probably.”
She thought back to this past Halloween where you and Steve were dressed up in your Batman and Robin costume, and at some point during the night he ended up giving you a piggyback ride while you all were walking to some party, and she and Vickie were trailing a bit behind the two of you. She thought about how certain she had felt when answering Vickie’s question about if you two had ever dated. “They seem like they’d be perfect together, but I also think the world would implode if they ever tried something.” For the most part, that still felt entirely true. Even though it would’ve made complete sense if something happened, it still didn’t seem necessarily “possible” at this point— it felt like such a far-fetched idea.
“I’m gonna have to agree with Rob on this one. I don’t think they’ll ever actually get together,” Eddie said and then started laughing a bit as he said his next words. “Or it’ll happen twenty years down the road after they’ve both been married to other people and then divorced, and then they’ll finally realize that all they needed and wanted was each other.”
“Wow, that sounds like the most depressing movie ever,” Will told him.
“I guess it wouldn’t be that sad since they would end up together in the end,” El said with a small shrug.
Eddie nodded. “Exactly.”
“Okay, yeah, maybe that could happen, but I don’t think it would take that long anymore because things are so different now,” Dustin said. “They’re living together, they have a child together.” He gestured to Harold the Hamster’s cage that sat on the coffee table in the living room. “They’re practically already a couple. It’s inevitable now. Soon they’ll be married and there will be actual children involved, not just Harold.”
Robin rolled her eyes at his final statement. “They’re best friends. They’ve known each for like ten years.”
“Yeah, which is just another reason why they’re definitely gonna end up together,” Lucas said. “Also, I can’t even remember the last time either of them went on a date, and Steve usually always talks about his dates.”
“Actually, he was just going out with that girl last month,” Will chimed in. “Vanessa or something?”
“And that ultimately led nowhere,” Max reminded him.
Mike took a brief look over at you and Steve to make sure that you two still weren’t listening to the current conversation. “Okay, I have an idea. We should make this a bet. We each say when we think they’ll get together, and if it does end up happening we all give whoever got it right or was the closest five bucks.”
Eddie laughed before nodding. “I actually kind of like that idea.”
“It’s a great idea,” Dustin said with a nod, and it didn’t necessarily surprise anyone when he pulled out a small notebook and pen out of his pocket because it somehow made sense that he would be the one to bring a notebook and pen to a dinner party; he was probably prepared for anything.
He started off by saying February– because even though it was only a month away, it was in fact, the month of love— and then everyone started going around the table saying their guesses. Lucas said April, Max and El both said March, Mike said July, Will said August, Robin said a very certain “Never,” and Eddie finished by saying a playful and only slightly serious, “Twenty years.”
It was almost comical how oblivious you and Steve were to what was happening not that far away from you both. Instead, your attention was on grabbing enough silverware for everyone since the plates were already set on the table and Steve was pulling out some cups.
“I think both of our moms would scold us for not setting everything out before they came,” You told Steve, laughing a bit.
“Very true. I guess our years of being forced to eat at fancy restaurants with them have truly taught us nothing,” He joked back and you smiled at that as you both walked over to the dining table. “We’re gonna bring over the lasagna in a second. What are you guys talking about?”
“Nothing,” Eddie said casually as Dustin slipped his notebook back into his pocket, which was a subtle action that neither of you noticed. “Just some movie.”
Once everything was set on the table, you two went back to the kitchen to grab the lasagnas.
“The bread will be done in a couple minutes, so if the lasagna sucks we’ll eat that,” You said as you sat down in one of the two empty chairs left, which just so happened to be your desk chair. “Also, if it sucks, blame Steve, not me.”
He shook his head as he rolled his eyes at you and playfully poked your side before taking a seat in the other empty chair on the opposite side of the table. “If it sucks, blame both of us because this was a very mutual effort.”
Robin nodded. “Okay, got it. If this turns out to be the worst meal all of us have ever eaten we’ll make sure to hate both of you equally and not talk to either of you for at least a week.”
Luckily, the lasagna actually turned out pretty great.
.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.
let me know ur thoughts<333
(requests are open for stuff you wanna see in the universe/series!🫶🏾)
#steve harrington x reader#steve harrington fic#steve harrington fluff#steve harrington smut#steve harrington x you#steve harrington imagine#steve harrington x fem!reader#stranger things fluff#steve harrington imagines#steve harrington series#steve harrington x reader smut#steve harrington x y/n#stranger things fic#stranger things series#stranger things imagine#stranger things smut
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Ryui Shiramitsu SSR Card Story 「Amidst The Pandemonium」 Track 1

Location: Arataka Amulet Store
Momiji: (Alright, that should do it for the sweeping.)
Ryui: Hah…what a pain in the ass…that one nearly did a number on me.
Momiji: Oh, you’re back, Ryui-kun!

Ryui: Hey.
Momiji: What sort of thing did you need to go take care of?
Ryui: Just another one-off job. Same old stuff.
Momiji: O-Oh, okay.
Ryui: I’ve already finished up with the urgent call so I’m back earlier than expected. Thanks for keeping an eye on the place.
Momiji: (Oh, that reminds me. There was something I wanted to ask him—)
There’s something that caught my eye while I was watching the store earlier…
Ryui: There was?
Momiji: It was a half-finished bracelet.
Ryui: Oh, that old thing.
Momiji: Would it be alright if I helped make one?
Ryui: Huh? What makes you ask that?
Momiji: I was just wondering whether or not there was anything else I could help with…plus, I’m curious.
Ryui: So that’s your real motive.
Momiji: Yeah, you caught me. I’m just a little intrigued by your job, is all.
Ryui: I’m not gonna have you getting in the way just so you can satiate whatever curiosities you have.
Momiji: Oh, right, totally. I’m sorry for asking, I’ll head off now…
Ryui: Hey, wait—
Hah…fine, whatever.

Momiji: (Looks like he came around in the end…he might’ve complained about it earlier but now I'm watching him set up all the supplies we’ll need.)
(I meant it when I said I was curious, so I'm glad he agreed.)
So, how are amulets made?
Ryui: You seriously don’t know a thing about this, huh?
Momiji: I’ve never really crossed paths with this type of thing…
Ryui: You might be better off that way.
Momiji: From what I’ve gathered, you and Toi-kun both seem to have a lot on your shoulders.
Ryui: …’S fine, I’ve gotten used to it by now.
Anyway, back to the amulets. Lately, people are bigger on the ones that you can wear as accessories like bracelets or necklaces.
Momiji: Oh, you’re even wearing some too.
Ryui: Yeah, no shit. I’d have to be suicidal to throw myself in front of those things without any protection.
Momiji: (He’s mentioned performing exorcisms and banishing evil spirits before, but it sounds like they’re really just as crazy as I imagined…)
Ryui: So are we doing this or not?
Momiji: Y-Yeah, let’s do it!
Ryui: For the record, I don’t usually offer these kinds of DIY experiences.
I’m not going to repeat myself so you better listen up.
Momiji: I’m listening.
Ryui: The origins of amulets are said to date back all the way to the magatama beads crafted during the Jomon period. Throughout the Heian period, amulets began taking the form of paper slips or those little pouches with prayers written inside them.
Momiji: Interesting…!
Ryui: Eventually they evolved into accessories like bracelets or necklaces that you can wear with your everyday clothes.
Momiji: I see…
Ryui: Anyway, we’re going to be making one of those bracelet amulets today. All you need to do is thread these stones onto the elastic…
Momiji: Does the order or the colour of the stones mean anything?
Ryui: Well, yeah, but…ultimately, the essence of the amulet comes from whatever sentiment you have in mind while making it.
Just focus on doing whatever your heart is drawn to for now.
Momiji: Okay…!
Next
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This or that?
Drabble for “It’s all about the…”
Series Masterlist
My Masterlist

A/N: I totally forgot to post this a few weeks ago! This came to us while talking about TikTok’s I think? I’m not sure anymore but @jamneuromain came up with this hilarious tiktok idea with Steve and reader 🤣 I’m actually thinking about making a whole Drabble list about all the TikTok’s Steve would do - there are a lot, trust me🤣
Pairing: stripper Steve Rogers x Sugar Mommy Reader
Warnings: none
Summary: Steve has a new tiktok idea, one that includes his dear Sugar Mommy.

Steve had another great idea.
He wanted to take part in a Tiktok trend about this or that question.
The rules? None, actually. Just standing in the middle of the frame, writing above some choices and pointing at the one applying to his liking.
So here he was, begging you to take part in it, not knowing what for exactly.
“Come on, you just have to walk up to me and pull out of the frame-preferably at the collar. Twice. You’ll know when-it’ll be fun”, he tried to change your mind, sitting on your desk, right on the documents you were supposed to sign. Which you now couldn’t do, because he planted his ass on them. Thank god he had clothes on.
This time.
Sighing you looked up at him, a huge grin was on his lips, his eyes sparkling with mischief. You could tell he had planned something, but you couldn’t deny him anything if you had to be honest.
“Fine…just stand up and stop sitting on my stuff when you need my attention. I really need to sign those”, hearing your words steve immediately stood up, planted a quick kiss on your lips then cheek and walked away.
“I’ll be waiting in the living room!”, he called out before leaving your office.
A soft, fond smile crept onto your lips as you watched him before finishing looking over the documents and siging all of them. It only took you a few minutes before you walked to the living room, watching Steve slightly confused as he sat up his phone.
A hanger with your black dress in his hand, heels in the other one.
“What….why are you holding up my-” “please put it on, Mommy…please for me”, he nearly begged you, already handing you both of the things. You sighed but took it anyway. You really should start denying him stuff more often.
Taking of your shirt and pants you slipped into the dress. A smile crept onto your lips. You had worn it at one of your first dates with Steve, a black dress with a low cut showing off your shoulders and collarbones. The usual louboutin heels you loved wearing. “Could you put this on too?”, Steve held out his hand to you, the pearl necklace you rarely wore in his palm.
A chuckle escaped your lips and you took the necklace with a head shake. “Fine but help me with it”, with that you turned around and let him put it on around your neck.
When you turned around Steve held up a pair of long black velvet gloves. “Where did you get-“ “I bought them. Can you put them on?”, while asking he was already taking your hand and helping you putting the gloves on, which wasn’t that easy with two people doing it.
“Steve-wait-let me-“, after a little struggle of getting your hand back you managed to put the gloves on, now finally being dressed to Steve’s liking judging by his happy grin. “Perfect. Now wait and grab me when I tell you to”, with that he walked over to his phone and started the recording.
Slightly confused you watched as he walked from one side to the other for no reason, always looking up for a second as if reading something.
Jesus.
You were really getting too old for this stuff.
Then a few moments later he just looked around standing in the middle of the frame. “Now”, he mumbled and as if on command you walked over to him, grabbing him by the collar and pulling out of the frame.
Before you could even ask him anything he took off his hoodie, messed up his hair a bit more and walked back into the frame to show his white shirt with a writing on it. You furrowed your eyebrows slightly reading it before remembering he wanted you to pull him out of the frame twice so you walked over to him again, repeating what you did before, but this time you decided to grab him by the throat.
“So now tell me-” “thank you”, he interrupted you, wrapping his arm around you and kissing you passionately, nearly taking your breath away. God, he was an amazing kisser.
A few seconds later he leaned back again, watching you a bit. A smirk creeping on his lips. “You’re hot, you know?”, grinning he started pulling your dress up, while pushing you against the counter. “Let me show you how hot I think you are…”, he mumbled against your neck while slowly sinking to his knees.
Well, the questions would have to wait.
Next day you were just coming back from work, a sweet smell hitting you as soon as you walked into your shared home. Did Steve bake something? Smiling you took of your heels and jacket and walked into the kitchen where Steve was leaning against the counter. “Hello beautiful”, he greeted you, pulling you into a hug. “Hi Baby, am I smelling a brownie or am I delusional?”, you grinned against his chest, the rumble of his laugh making you grin even more.
“You’re not delusional…not yet at least. I posted the tiktok and it went viral so I decided to do something nice for you” “but Stevie…you did plenty of nice things yesterday…”, you smirked against his neck. He chuckled too at that.
You let go of him and sat down on one of the stools while he cut a piece of brownie for you. After he took out his phone af showed you the tiktok. You didn’t much understand why he was posting so much on it, but he seemed to have fun with it so you were happy he was happy. And he seemed very happy about his tiktok being viral.
The video was like you suspected him reading something above his head.
>>This or that challenge.<<
In the video steve pointed at the sentance above his head before it changed into something else.
>> Pizza or Burger <<
You knew the choice would be pizza because he always chooses to order it. He’s just a pizza guy.
>> sketching or painting <<
There you could assume it’d be sketching since he did it most of the time-and you were right. It was the right guess.
At the example >> push ups or pull ups<< you really had no idea. You rarely talked about work outs and you didn’t watch him often since he did his work outs most of the time while you were at work.
When finally the choice >Daddy issues or Mommy issues< was above his head you furrowed your eyebrows seeing him just stand there without choosing. Wait…was that….
“Steve you did not-“ Right then you walked into the frame pulling him to the side with the mommy issues, making you gasp quietly. Oh god. And he posted this??
A second later he was back in the frame wearing a white t shirt with a thinck writing on it that said ‘I *heart* MILFs’ confusing you slightly, but you already suspected you wouldn’t like the answer after asking, especially when you watched yourself walk back into the frame and pulling him to you by the neck.
Steve took his phone from your hands, grinning brightly at you. “And? You like it?”, was his first question, still completely happy with himself. Yet the smile slowly faded when he saw your furrowed eyebrows. This never was a good sign.
“And you posted this?? I’m a businesswoman Steve!”, you nearly whined, shaking your head. You weren’t mad at him…rather a bit embarrassed. The whole world knows about your dynamics now.
He shrugged slightly, pulling in his shoulder and making himself look a bit smaller than usually. “Well…yeah…now you’re a famous businesswoman at least-“ “oh my god Steve-“ “but hear me out. People love that kind of stuff-“ “I don’t want to be famous for being your sugar mommy-“ “but they say you’re giving off mommy vibes anyway so-“ “oh my god”
You just shook your head and took a bite from the piece of brownie. At least this taste incredible so you had another reason to not be mad at him-not that you ever could be really mad at him.
A few seconds later you looked up again. “I wanted to ask one more thing. What’s with the shirt? What does MILF mean?”
You knew you wouldn’t like the answer as soon as his whole face to the very top of his ears turned a dark shade of red and he hunched his shoulders even more. “Well it’s…it means…Momidliketofuck”, he mumbled so quickly you couldn’t understand a single word of what he had said. “What? Come again?"
He took a deep breath.
Swallowed.
Swallowed again.
And slowly looked back up at you.
"Mom I'd like to fuck" "WHAT??? Wait hold on-" You nearly choked on your own salvia, your eyes widening. “Steve! How many people have seen this video?”
“Well…around two hundred…..thousands” “Steve!”

Thank you for reading! I Hope you enjoyed it! Please let me know by leaving feedback:) I’d appreciate it a lot<3
Questions? HC or Drabble ideas? -> flood my inbox!
Taglist: @slutforchrisjamalevans @joannaromanoff @marvel-wifey-86 @buckysteveloki-me @patzammit @barnesboo1967 @sebsgirl71479 @sapphire-rogers @hayleysimp @kestrafagnor wanna be tagged? Be active (FEEDBACK AND REBLOGGING) and let me know!
#it’s all about the…#steve rogers#steve rogers x reader#steve rogers fanfiction#steve rogers fluff#steve rogers x y/n#steve rogers x female reader#steve rogers x you
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Marked for Death pt 3
Chapter two
Today was the day.
Tim woke up early that morning, ready and anxious for what plans he had later. If everything went well, Tim would be back to normal before anyone noticed he was missing. As he’d predicted, his parents had canceled their flight to Gotham and instead switched to a plane heading to Tibet. Which, Tim would be disappointed by if he wasn’t so relieved. They were just one less thing for him to worry about during the very stressful week.
It had been just over a week and Tim was still five years old. He was a bit annoyed that he’d mostly gotten used to it, but he wasn’t a huge fan of not being able to get out much. With that thought, he slipped off his cozy restaurant booth and got ready for the day. He put on his mostly worn clothes he hadn’t gotten the chance to wash yet, and slipped on his wonder woman backpack and pink froggy boots. They were growing on him, and he liked that they were waterproof.
Silently, Tim crawled out of his space, setting basic traps for possible intruders as he went. They weren’t anything that would hurt, but would definitely deter people from coming in and stealing his stuff. Tim smiled, reminiscing on the time he watched Home Alone with Dick. He’d be lying if he said some of the traps weren’t inspired by the movie.
Finally glad to be out of the stuffy restaurant, Tim made his way stealthily down the street. It was early enough that there weren't many people out on the streets, but Tim was still careful. He couldn’t afford trouble when he was so close to getting his body back. Determinedly, Tim stomped his little froggy boots up to the nearest convenience store that wasn’t a front for crime.
The bell chimed as Tim pushed the heavy door open, cursing his tiny body for lacking the strength to open it with one arm. Upon entering, he clocked the store manager up front talking with a tall teen. Tim paid them no mind, but kept an eye on them as he gathered his rations for the next few days.
He was starting to get tired of sandwiches, but there wasn’t much else in the store that qualified as a meal, and Tim didn’t have a source of hot water around to heat up a cup of ramen. He ended up with three sandwiches, a bottle of water, four muffins of varying flavor, two things of chips and a surprisingly green banana. Hesitating, Tim also added a bag of marshmallows to the giant pile in his arms. He looked over at the coffee with longing as he made his way to the counter. Maybe he could… Tim shook his head, dispelling his thoughts of a hot beverage so early in the morning to warm him up… okay he was getting one, Tim decided.
Tim waddled his way to the cashier with a mountain of supplies in his arms, ready to ask about the coffee machine when something caught his eye. The teen he’d seen talking to the manager when he came in hadn’t left yet, and stopped their conversation as Tim came closer. Tim gave the guy his best glare to discourage any funny business, and the teen looked away from the toddler with poorly concealed amusement.
“Heya kid,”The cashier greeted Tim when he haphazardly placed his findings on the counter. He cursed his height again as he had to step on his tiptoes to make sure nothing fell off.
“Hi Mr. Marcus,”Tim said in a cheery voice. “Is the coffee machine working?”
Mr. Marcus laughed. “It is, would you like a hot chocolate? I can ring your stuff up while you get one.”
“Yeah! Thanks,”Tim bounced, barely holding in his excitement over his first hot cup of coffee since he’d been de-aged. He made his way to the coffee machine in record time, struggling on his tiptoes to reach the cups when a hand came out to grab it for him.
Tim shook off his surprise and gave the teen a suspicious glare. “Hot chocolate, right?” The guy asked, and Tim wanted to strangle the guy.
“I can do it myself,”Tim pouted, and to his luck, the guy handed the cup off to the toddler without complaint.
“I know, but it’s fine to ask for help sometimes,”The guy said, and Tim was further annoyed by how far he had to crane his neck to see the guys face. Wait a minute, Tim thought, this was the same kid from the library.
“My mommy says not to talk to strangers,”Tim shot back, moving his cup up to the machine. He studiously ignored the teen as he placed it under the coffee label and not the hot chocolate.
“Your mom’s awfully smart, is she around?” The teen asked, and Tim realized the kid must be checking to see if the unaccompanied toddler was being taken care of. Before Tim could retort, he bit back a sigh when he saw he was too short to press the button to give him his glorious coffee.
“I’ll tell you if you press the button for me,”Tim pointed, and the teen had the audacity to grin.
“Sure, but this one’s coffee, not hot chocolate,”Jason said, reaching over to move Tim’s cup to the other dispenser, making Tim jerk back.
“I can read! I know what I’m doing,”Tim protested, trying to act as serious he could with a squishy little baby face. The teen just laughed and got out another identical cup.
“Fine, but I’m going to get hot chocolate,”The guy said, filling up his own cup with the sugary monstrosity. Tim wrinkled his nose at the chocolatey smell. “You wanted this one?” He clarified, and Tim placed his cup under the dispenser for the boy to dutifully dispense him some sweet, sweet caffeine.
“So, you promised me an answer to my question,”The guy pestered, and Tim held back a sigh. Instead, he plastered on an innocent face.
“Mommy’s waiting for me at home,”Tim said, nodding seriously,”We live vewy close so she lets me walk by myself.”
“Ah,”The teen said, gesturing for the cashier instead of handing Tim his coffee. “I live close by too, my name’s Jason.”
Tim squinted at him before replying with,”I’m Conan.”
“Nice to meet you,”Jason hummed. Tim nodded, willing them to get to the counter faster so he could get his hands on his coffee. They reached the counter where Tim pulled out his backpack to unzip. He pulled two twenties from his hidden pocket and handed them over to Marcus. He was an old man with a few kids who’d moved away long ago. The man was always nice to kids, Tim included, which was why this store was his main place for provisions.
Purchases complete, Tim hurried to put his things away in his backpack while Jason carried their drinks. Tim noticed Jason giving Marcus a nod, and pretended not to notice as he made grabby hands toward the coffee. Jason obliged, and Tim was happy to leave the store with something nice and warm in his hands.
“Mind if I walk with you? To make sure you get home safe,”Jason asked, appearing in front of Tim to open the giant heavy door for him. Tim bit back a scream.
“I’m not supposed to talk to strangers,”Tim shot back,”I’ll use my taser if you try to follow me,”Tim threatened, no longer playing around. Jason was nice and all, but he really didn’t want CPS to be called on him. He just wanted to drink his coffee and sit in his dusty restaurant eating marshmallows before he went out on his stakeout tonight.
Jason laughed, but immediately backed up with his hands held out.”Alright, alright, I’ll see you around Conan,”He said, taking strides in the opposite direction. Tim let out a breath of relief as the guy disappeared down the street.
Making his way back to the restaurant, Tim took a sip of his coffee only to spit it out immediately. That bastard switched drinks!! Tim raged. Clutching the cup tighter, he resisted the urge to hurtle the drink as far as his little hands could throw them. He refrained, if only for how it warmed his hands. Now in a bad mood, Tim stomped home, angrily sipping at the sugary drink in his hands. At least I’ll be back in my own body soon, Tim thought. But if he ever saw Jason again he was gonna kick him in the shins.
-----
Jason hated Crime Alley.
But he also loved it.
He loved it because it was where he grew up, where he learned to survive, and he was able to watch the communities within grow and thrive over the years despite the harsh conditions. Jason hated it because of how hard it was to survive on his own as a kid. Which was why he made it his mission to do better. For the community, the streets, and himself.
No one who didn’t live in the Alley cared about it. When he was with B- when he was adopted he hadn’t had a chance to visit much. It was not all bad memories for Jason like it was for others. For Bruce. Still, as Robin he’d been able to check on the people there, even as little as B allowed it. It made him feel good, protecting the people who really needed it.
Jason remembered countless arguments about it. How Bruce didn’t want to help the people in Crime Alley the way Jason knew they needed. So now, Red Hood is stepping up to fill that hole. Working girls are safer, dealers don’t sell to kids, and Jason makes sure there are ample safe places for kids on the streets.
Which was why he was in a convenience store at 7am, waiting for a tiny kid to come by. Marcus, a nice old man who’d run the convenience store for years, had had a new customer that was particularly worrying to the old man. Jason promised to check out the kids' situation in case the little guy needed anything, so there he was. At the convenience store 12 hours before he’d have to bust some heads open. He was tired, but after listening to Marcus worry about a four year old buying food all by himself every few days.
After meeting the kid himself and recognizing those familiar pink froggy boots, Jason was officially concerned. He’d managed to snag some coffee for himself- no way kids that small should stunt their growth any further with that kind of stuff, he’d thought- and tailed the kid as far as he could. Which was more difficult than he’d expected.
Despite the kid’s twists and turns, Jason stayed appropriately out of sight until he saw the little guy crawl through the boarded up door of a restaurant that was clearly falling apart. Jason sighed, deciding to keep an eye out for the kid after he finished the raid tonight. The poor kid shouldn’t be living like this, but Jason could understand. It was surely safer for a toddler to stay off the streets as much as possible, otherwise CPS should be called. Even if he joined one of the street gangs, no doubt some of the bigger kids would push him to go to a foster home.
Deeming the kid as safe as he could be for the time being, Jason lumbered back to his apartment to prepare for the raid. He’d have to call some of his own henchmen to help him with the aftermath if he wanted to keep the weapons off the bats radar, but he was looking forward to punching some people. It was a welcome distraction from Mycroft, his infuriating hacker.
As much as he appreciated the hackers’ intel, Jason wouldn’t let the guy get in the way of his master plan. He was already well on his way to establishing himself as a Crime Lord, improving the streets in ways the bat could only dream of- but his main plan was Robin.
The sneaky little bird hadn’t been out all week- no doubt because of Hood, but Jason would be ready for him when he showed up. Timothy Drake, was his replacement’s name. Thalia had given him a file on the kid- rich parents, good grades, friends, and robin. The little bastard had stolen his life and Jason was going to show him what happened when pretenders put on the suit.
Once Jason took care of Robin, he was ready to enact his plans with Bruce. But for now he’d wait. Batman hadn’t suspected Red Hood was Jason yet, so he had ample time to flesh out his plans. And he planned to make Robin suffer.
Chapter four
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Click here for the rest of the series!
Click to see the rest of the snark & image descriptions
Chapter 33
[Tristan] took out a bottle of wine and two glasses.
[...]
“I have been talking the whole week with the cafeteria lady. Susie. I told her I was trying to win a girl over, and Susie was thrilled to hear all about it. Apparently, she is a huge sucker for romantic stories. She got me the wine and glasses because I told her it was a very special occasion,” he said…
Um… Does the author know that adults providing minors with alcohol is a literal crime? It varies from state to state, but where I live, you can pay up to a $1k fine and face up to 6 months in jail. And obviously, this is going to give you a criminal record.
He sighed deeply and I felt his warm breath over my neck. Just like home.
Chapter 33 summary: Tristan promised to take Joe on an actual date. However, she was randomly under the impression that this would happen at the fancy restaurant in town, much like what Seth and Tiffany did for their first date.
Tristan comes to Joe as she’s trying to get ready, and drags her away. Instead of the restaurant, he’s instead got picnic stuff set up on the hidden balcony. He plays her songs on his guitar, and they dance a little. They also bang. (I’m waiting for the pregnancy bombshell, but that’ll probably happen in the second book, I’m guessing.) After they finish, they go back to their room, where Joe slips into bed with Tristan.
Chapter 34
“Come on, now! You, like, kill people every day! You’re Death!” I countered.
“I haven’t killed anyone in my whole life!” she said, crossing her arms over her chest defensively. “I just show them the path between worlds.”
She’s not death; she’s freaking Charon.
“Yes, I have heard that plea before, Joe. From many others. Love is very common of your race. I don’t blame you for trying to stay together. I have seen many before you, and I will see many after you’re gone. When he leaves, it will hurt. But this pain will pass,” she said, wiping a tear from my face with her long, slender fingers.
Again, this isn’t a couple that was ever meant to be. He was dead at least a couple of decades before Joe’s mum was even born. Of course nature is trying to correct itself for this error!
When I’d finished telling him all that had happened, he hugged me close to him, and rocked me softly with his body, saying that everything was going to be all right [sic]. But how could he say that? We had lost our only hope!
[Image description: A screenshot from The Simpsons. In it, the parents of Ned Flanders sit in chairs, both looking upset. Ned’s father, who looks like Ned but with a goatee, is wearing a beret and a red-striped shirt; he is leaning forward. Ned’s mother is next to her husband. She is wearing a black turtleneck and has chin-length brown hair. Image is captioned with “We’ve tried nothing and we’re all out of ideas”. End description]
“Try to get some rest now, Joey,” he said, brushing his fingers slowly through my hair, and I drifted almost immediately into a blessedly uninterrupted and uneventful sleep.
Chapter 34 summary: Joe finds herself back in the desert landscape, with Sky/Death standing over her. Sky explains to her that the human mind often fills in the gaps with her appearance. That for people who are afraid of her/the thought of death, she’s depicted as being frightening. For those who don’t fear her, she’s often… not scary. She quite likes the look of Sky.
Joe then asks if Sky is Vigil’s boss, but Sky says not really. Seems as though that while she is in a higher position than him, they work in different departments. She’s merely Charon, and isn’t in charge of reaping souls. She tells Joe that she has to go, that the longer she stays there, the worse it’s going to be for Joe later.
Joe wakes up, but is barely conscious because of how much pain she’s in. Tristan and Seth help her to the bathroom where she vomits profusely. Then she explains to them what happened. Tristan tells her that this isn’t the end of their story, but Joe seems to have already thrown in the towel… Even though she has talked to literally two people. I cannot anymore.
#Lost Boys series#Lost Boys (LB 1)#bookblr#book review#supernatural romance#YA novel#ghosts#romance novel
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Tell us about your journey through The Magnus Archives!
The year, 2020. The month, May. Springtime in Boston, which means that it's already ten million degrees and humid and I, already intimately aware that working on a political campaign means that you're either gonna be making phone calls or entering data (so much fucking data) am using my limited free time, given that Circumstances meant I was in my apartment at all times, to watch shows and whatnot while on break. I finish my rewatch of seasons 1-3 of The Originals (given that they're some of the best television the CW ever put out and seasons 4 and 5 suck ass anyway) and am looking for new content.
Meanwhile, my friend has been listening to The Magnus Archives, mostly just to send me clips of Gerry and Gertrude (makes sense, they were a big RomanGerri during season two of Succession) and, given that this friend already has a track record of getting me to watch shows that they like, I decide, why not? Why not give it a shot? After all, I like supernatural stuff, and I like workplace vibes, and I even heard that there was some boss dude a lot of people like to talk about in various different ways, based on the little amount of content I've seen on Tumblr. So, I listen to one episode, remember that I am a giant scaredy-cat who currently lives alone with all my family across the whole country, and decide not to listen to this show once it got dark out (Anglerfish freaked me out, OK?) . This didn't necessarily last, one because once the time change happens in MA it stays light pretty late, and two, because honestly after the first few episodes the show stopped being scary and I didn't mind listening to it in the nighttime.
So anyway I finished season 1 and 2 in literally one single week. I'm not even kidding. I started the show May 1, got to Elias killing Leitner on May 7. And granted my primary thoughts were mostly "I like Elias" and "season 2 Jon is a fucking nightmare" with a sprinkling of "I wanna know more about the Lukas family" (anyone who knows me knows this isn't a surprise), but I'm still really surprised I was plowing through it that fast. And then i completely stopped listening to it, because the campaign was ramping up in the summer months and it slipped away from me.
It's now January of 2021, I'm living at home with my parents for a couple months before school starts back up and honestly a bit bored out of my skull because my parents' primary residence at the time was in Carmel, CA and my GOD is there nothing to do there except for the aquarium (I love it there but it's true). And I decide to give TMA another shot since the final season is winding down anyway. Plow through the first two seasons again, most thoughts still the same, get to season 3 and start liking it, meet Peter Lukas and decide he's immediately the best character, which is still true, season 4 only reinforces that fact, and then slowly make my way through season 5 because I, uh, did not care for it. Also, true story, I've never actually listened to episode 200, cuz when it came out I was at the salon, so I just read the episode transcript on my phone (it was Fine).
I still work on political campaigns, by the by, and I honestly put on early season TMA when I have to do data entry (getting through season 2 is always a bit of a struggle because I love Jon but my God is he such a fucking nightmare that season, I just wanna shake him). Also, to be completely honest, any time I relisten to season 4, I just skip and skip until I get to the Peter scenes, since again, best character and the only one I really care about in that season.
#personal#answered#anonymous#if i don't get some sort of peter content in tmagp i will riot and that's a promise
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Ok, so this my first time requesting. But, in honor of Elvis’s Birthday could you write something where Elvis and reader spend a day together and just do fun stuff (like go to club handy) for his birthday. Just fluff pls.❤️❤️❤️thanks!
King For A Day
Masterlist
Pairings: Elvis x Reader and/or Austin!Elvis x reader Word Count: 769 Warnings: so much fluff it makes you wanna cry A/N: Thank you for the request Anon! Sorry, it's a bit late I was editing the other stories I had planned so I just got to this one today. I hope you enjoy it! (Also, Austin is lookin' hella fine at the golden globes. Just wanted to make sure the girlies were aware.)
◇──◆──◇──◆──◇──◆──◇──◆──
You had been awake for the last hour and a half trying to get Elvis' birthday breakfast ready. He usually slept in so that allowed you a couple more hours to bang around in the kitchen while he rested soundly.
You had prepared quite the assortment of bacon, sausages, pancakes, cut fruits, cheeses, and of course his toast with peanut butter and bananas; although you hoped he would eat all of the other things you had prepared.
Just as you finished setting up the table and cleaning the last of the dishes unbeknownst to you, Elvis had already woken up and had been standing by the steps watching you.
You had music playing softly from the record player and you hummed along while you washed the dishes. The sight alone was enough of a birthday present for him, never mind all of the festivities you had planned for him that day. Elvis grew tired of just watching you so he crept up behind you and slipped his hands around your waist. Although the touch startled you initially, you could recognize his large warm hands anywhere.
"Good morning honey. Did you sleep well?" You leaned back into his chest as you spoke putting your full weight against him.
"I'm doin' good baby. This is a wonderful sight to wake up to." He tightened his arms around you and leaned his head into your neck. He was still sleepy and his mannerisms were so endearing to you. You rest your hand over his palm as you speak, "I made some breakfast! Do you want to eat before the gang gets here, or do you want to wait?"
Elvis liked being around other people but right now he just wanted to be able to spend a slow and lazy morning with you.
"I'll eat before they get here I want ya all to maself." He puffed a breath into your neck when he finished and your answering giggle made him tighten his arms around you.
" I think I'll wait to see 'em until we get to Club Handy I want as much time alone wit ya as possible." Although his words sounded like they meant something else you knew they meant he wanted cuddles and kisses from you.
You kissed his cheek "Of course, honey, come on the food getting cold." You threaded his fingers through yours and led him to the table where you sat down next to each with hands still intertwined.
You fed him pancakes with 'Happy Birthday!' written in chocolate chips while he spooned cut strawberries and apples into your mouth. You kept your head leaned against his neck and sang his praises; telling him how much you loved him, how lucky you were to have him, and how handsome he was. He ate it all up and gave you grateful kisses and hugs in between each declaration.
You both cleaned up the kitchen before making your way upstairs to your bedroom where you proceeded to lay in each others arms until well into the afternoon.
Elvis' arms were wrapped around your waist and his head tucked into your collarbone. He let his hands rub circles into your side while you raked your fingers through his silky locks and kissed his forehead.
Eventually, when the clock struck 8, you both needed to get up and start getting ready to go to Club Handy for his actual birthday celebration. You both had matching outfits picked out. He was in a dark brown suit with no shirt under and you donned a brown dress accessorized with jewelry he had gotten you.
He kissed you as you applied your makeup and you did the same to him while he buttoned his suit jacket. The drive there was uneventful save for the fact that he had his hands intertwined with yours at any given time. He rubbed your knuckles and pressed his fingers into your palm.
You both stepped out of the car outside the back entrance to the club and made your way in.
The whole night was spent with drinks passed around, rambunctious laughter echoing off the walls then mingling with the sounds of the jazz playing in the background, and Elvis' arms wrapped securely around you. He brought you everywhere with him. Whether he was talking to friends or just standing alone. You always occupied the space directly in front of him and his arms never left you.
You were both content with that; and although you sang him happy birthday the softest, he heard you louder than everybody else. He felt so powerful at that moment. He felt like he had been crowned king for a day.
◇──◆──◇──◆──◇──◆──◇──◆─
Done! I was listening to the Actors Round Table video with Austin while writing this and can someone explain to me how tf his voice is so attractive. Seeing all these hot people everywhere just reminds me how painfully single I am. 😭
#elvis biopic#austin butler elvis#elvis x reader#elvis x y/n#elvis x you#elvis presley#austin butler x reader#elvis presley fanfiction#elvis presley fic#elvis!austin#austin butler fic#austin butler fanfic#austin butler#austin butler imagine#elvis imagine#elvis presley imagine#elvis presley x reader#elvis presley x you#e
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embarrassing moments with inarizaki
inarizaki always looks so cool but you know they’re actually dorks and i am here to provide you the content to show theyre clowns. enjoy the headcanons :)
Kita Shinsuke
firstly. kita shinsuke being embarrased? making a mistake? unheard of.
he’s a perfect man and we all know it.
anyways
you two were having a nice dinner out together.
it was a pretty fancy place so you decided to dress in a different style today
but you were beginning to wonder if kita liked it or not because he seemed to keep looking past your shoulder instead of at you
he was an observant guy so you were wondering if something had happened behind you
but you couldn’t hear anything weird so you assumed not
you decided to just stay quiet about it at first but now it was beginning to become annoying!
why wasn’t he looking you in the eye to speak?
midway through your dinner, kita finally spoke up tho
“y/n, your shirt is slipping... yer bra’s showing.”
oh.
right. you were wearing your off-shoulder top.
“o-oh. shin, it’s that kind of shirt, you know?” you had to explain your outfit to ur bf with a pink face.
“oh... that so... well it’s cold these days so if yer feelin’ cold lemme know. i’ll give ya my jacket.”
GOD HES SO PERFECT KITA SHINSUKE I HOPE U MARRY HIM???????
Ojiro Aran
another man with next to no flaws.
but nature says everyone has to make some mistake.
so it was a regular school day, our aran has just come to class from morning practice and there’s still some time left until class starts.
all the girls in class are gathered around a table
he’s not sure why, it’s probably watching an idol video
but ur man wants to be a little romantic!!
plus he just showered so he smells Great uwu
he goes over and hugs you from behind, placing his chin on ur head.
“hey, bb whatcha ya doin”
all the girls gasp.
he doesn’t get whats wrong, it’s not like it’s a secret y’all are dating
pda to this level aint bad either
especially compared to his teammate miya atsumu
“ojiro aran.”
why is your voice behind him
he looks down and nearly faints when he sees he hugged the wrong girl.
to be fair she looked a lot like you from behind, just maybe 1cm shorter.
“i’m so sorry!” he keeps apologising to literally everyone and all the class is giggling bc they never seen their school’s ace so red before.
“didn’t think i’d come back from the toilet and see my bf cheatin”
“IT WAS A MISTAKE! I’M SERIOUS! Y/N U KNOW I LOVE YA!”
hes so funny i swear
the volleyball team hears of it and it gets even better
Miya Atsumu
it’s not a secret that miya atsumu, setter of the inarizaki volleyball team and invited to national youth training camp, had a gf
he was very much in love with u
the whole class knew it because he’d show it off whenever he could too
so here comes valentines day
last year he received like... 50 different gifts from girls and guys aiming to win his love.
you didnt even give him one lmAOOOOO
but this year, he had been not so subtly trying to hint that “i better not receive any chocolates this year when i’ve got a gf!”
he reaches school and plops into his seat.
there’s an anonymous box of chocolates with “please accept my love, miya-kun! <3″ on it
“the hell’s this?!”
“oh? chocolates?” - osamu who just popped his head into the class to shove into his twin’s face how much chocolate he got.
especially since the blond was off limits, the grey-haired twin had a bigger following now.
“do they not know i have a girlfriend...”
“well, ya might as well eat it. ya dont know who to return it to.”
“that’s like receivin’ their love!”
“no it ain’t. it’s just food.”
atsumu couldn’t argue with that and popped a piece in.
it was very delicious. the chocolate practically melted on his tongue and was the perfect sweetness and was filled with a delicious ganache too.
it was perfect
but he couldn’t accept this!
“it ain’t even good. too sweet and the filling’s sticky.”
“ah. really? is that what you think, tsumu?” you ask from the door where you had been watching the exchange take place.
“y/n! look at this! some weirdo gave me some choco and like... samu said to test it but i’ll toss it out, promise.”
“tsumu, i made that... i wrote it anonymously because i thought you’d know it was me and i wanted to tease you a little.”
“huh.”
osamu: “yeah actually i went over to her place to teach her how to make it.”
atsumu: “you said you went to suna’s place?!”
osamu: “i went there later but i first went to help her.”
you: “anyways if it’s not good i don’t mind if you toss it out...”
tsumu: “NO NO BABE I PROMISE IT’S GOOD”
you: “you just said-”
“BABE I SWEAR IT’S GOOD I JUST DIDN’T WANT TO ACCEPT A STRANGER’S STUFF”
“you’re always so honest though... are you sure?” you were having your fun teasing him now.
“BB PLSSSSSS”
he still cringes at the memory 4 years into ur marriage
Miya Osamu
osamu would DEFINITELY make home made dinner dates a regular thing.
this alone shows he’s the better twin - miya atsumu stan
he loves cooking and eating with you so sometimes when he’s got a day off you guys’ll set aside the afternoon to make a real nice dinner
imagine candlelit dinner with miya dorito body osamu in a suit
of course some fun stuff happens after too ;)))
and today’s your third anniversary!!
so osamu adds lots of ‘natural aphrodisiacs’ to the meal
i’m talkin
garlic bread and soup for an appetiser, a nice juicy steak with garlic and red wine sauce for the main, and chocolate coated strawberries for dessert
mm yummy
you two cleaned your plates completely (it was very delicious) and as you were washing the dishes, osamu comes up behind and wraps his arms around your waist
“yes, ‘samu?”
“i’ve already prepared us a nice bath with yer favourite scents.” he’s got his head resting on ur chin
“really? thank you~ i’ll be there in a bit”
but he doesn’t let go of you while you’re still scrubbing at the baking sheets.
“osamu, you can let go for now.”
“don’t feel like it.”
“i gotta wash the dishes since you did most of the cooking.”
“mmm, i’ll do it if ya gimme a kiss.”
you roll ur eyes bc what a cutie
u turn ur head to give him a kiss but suddenly he
he burps
that garlicy wine smell is just kinda there
“ew! ‘samu!!”
his face is real red but he’s also trying not to laugh because he’s still a dude and this is absolutely hilarious to him
“want another?” he starts teasing
“i’m not getting in the bath with you.”
“wait wait wait i’m sorry, i’ll go brush my teeth and give you a proper kiss”
Suna Rintarou
you two were taking the train home today
it was quite late due to practice going a little longer than usual, so he insisted he walked you back home today.
sunarin can be a good boyf sometimes ok
it was getting a little crowded on the train tho, since people were heading home or going out for dinner
luckily you had already grabbed seats so you were quite comfortable sitting side by side.
you and suna have the type of relationship were you dont have to talk all the time
silence is v comfy.
he’s just scrolling through twitter on his phone while you’re looking around the car, lost in ur thoughts
suddenly you notice an old lady standing a little bit away from you and you stand up
“baa-san, please take my seat.” you whisper in the crowded carriage
“oh how kind of you. thank you, dearie.” she smiles and takes your seat while you stand in front of her and suna instead.
suna doesn’t realise this exchange has happened tho
(he’s on his phone as usual)
probably starting some fights on twitter
he decides to try to be a little romantic and pretends to stretch his arm around (who he thought was) you.
“rin.”
why is your voice right in front of him?
“young man, i appreciate it but i’m married.”
suna jumps as he sees someone he did not recognise next to him.
he looks up and notices you had moved.
you’re giggling
the granny’s giggling
atsumu and osamu sitting opposite on the carriage look like they’re going to cry because they’re trying not to laugh
“i was just stretching. really.” he mumbles and crosses his arms, face red as a tomato
he’s so embarrassed.
Ginjima Hitoshi
sometimes the inarizaki vbc would go for an after practice snack at the nearby family mart
they were really hungry after an intense preparation for nationals which was in two weeks so kita insisted they all get something to fill them up on the way home
but lucky lucky ginjima hhehe
you (his classmate who he had a crush on) were working at the cash register today.
“welcome!” you greet everyone as they enter
he cant help but stiffen up a bit
why are u so cute and cheery today
the 2nd years already know what to do.
“heyy, i think last week i bought ya that ramen right? ya owe me my konbini snacks today!” - atsumu
“yeah. you lost a bet to me last week so u gotta pay up. a pack of jelly fruit sticks please.” - suna
“forgot my money today, mind payin’ for my snacks too?” - osamu
“like hell i’m paying for all of you. especially you, osamu. you eat too much all the time.”
aran’s noticed what’s going on,
“hey, if it’s just for today you can do it right? if ‘samu don’t pay ya back tomorrow i’ll nag him ‘til he does.”
“fine...” his basket is full when he goes to the counter.
he’s trying his best not to have a red face while watching u scan the items, ur hair swaying slightly as u look back and forth between the objects and the screen.
“alright. 4,890 yen please!” GOD he hated how expensive it was, that’s almost all his weekly allowance but bc it’s u and ur voice saying it it’s kinda ok
“mm, ok.” he still has his eyes on you while he takes out his wallet and puts it on the counter.
yes
his wallet, not the money
“...” “...”
“excuse me, sir. this is...”
he almost slaps his face wtf he’s so embarrassed.
“s-sorry. just a little absent minded after practice.” he starts pulling out his cash.
“it’s fine! i know how hard you guys practice!” you smile while performing the rest of the transaction and pass him his big bag of goods. “good luck for nationals, ginjima-kun!”
he almost runs out of the store and is about to fight the rest of the 2nd years for watching and (suna) recording
#inarizaki x reader#atsumu x reader#osamu x reader#kita x reader#suna x reader#aran x reader#ginjima x reader#miya atsumu#miya atsumu x reader#miya osamu x reader#miya osamu#kita shinsuke x reader#suna rintarou x reader#ojiro aran x reader#ginjima hitoshi x reader#haikyuu x reader#haikyuu headcanons#haikyuu imagines#misoramsby#suna rintarou#kita shinsuke#ojiro aran#ginjima hitoshi
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✰𝙅𝙪𝙟𝙪𝙩𝙨𝙪 𝙆𝙖𝙞𝙨𝙚𝙣 𝙢𝙖𝙞𝙣 𝙛𝙤𝙪𝙧 𝙡𝙤𝙨𝙞𝙣𝙜 𝙩𝙝𝙚𝙞𝙧 𝙎/𝙊. 𝘽𝙤𝙣𝙪𝙨: 𝙎𝙪𝙠𝙪𝙣𝙖 𝙍𝙮𝙤𝙢𝙚𝙣✰
Pairing: Gojo, Yuji, Fushiguro, Nobara, Sukuna x gender neutral reader
Warning: angst, depression themes, mentions of blood
Notes: I love the smell of saddens and crying in the morining, great starter of the days. lol I hope you all enjoy, there’ll be some grammical errors so please just ignore and I’ll try to fix them when I spot them. And I’m addicted to this series and characters so I’ll be releasing a bunch of others stuff regarding this show soon.

✵𝗴𝗼𝗷𝗼 𝘀𝗮𝘁𝗼𝗿𝘂✵
You were going to get up, you always did. The two inseparable prankster would be back at it agian like always. Like old times. You....you were fine
But the pit of his stomach twist and churn, his heart aching with a new found sense of despair. He knew, so why didn’t he just accepted it.
NO! You were going to get up, you just liked to joke around that’s all. So why did he feel a surge of rage so deep, so painful that ach his very core. Even destroying the special grade left nothing but dissatisfaction.
For the first time in his life he felt... hesitant.
Your body unmoving from the blow dealt by the curse demon. The curse being dealt with in seconds afterwards. The stillness felt eery, his heart pounding against his chest as he makes his way to you unmoving body
He crouch and pulled the slik blind off his face, beautiful bright blue eyes scanning over you body. Sadness being reflected in them but he kept that signiature smile of his
“S/o...can you still move?” He asked hoping, silently praying you could at least answer him.
...nothing.
“Cutie-chan~ quit playing around...get up so we can go home....” the weak laugh that left his lips felt more like whimper, as you continue to not answer him.
He doesn’t even know why he’s trying, he should be use to it. He’s lost thousands of friends in battle, time and time agian. One of his students wouldn’t come back, a coworker that didn’t make it, a close friends that died tragically. He’s heard it all.
So why did it hurt so much?...
Droplets fell over you color ridden cheek, you body being lifted into a broad chest. As Satoru buried his face into the crook of your neck, that awful perfume he hate infiltrating his nose, a choked laught left him.
“God I hate that perfum..”
That smile of yours as bright as the evening star, flooded his mind, your words ringing out as he cradled your dead body.
“I know you do, but you still love me~.”
✵𝘆𝘂𝗷𝗶 𝗶𝘁𝗮𝗱𝗼𝗿𝗶✵
That face, you always made that face whenever you did something stupid. Honestly, he couldn’t talk much, seeing on half the crap he’s done was on impulse, however...god you were an idiot.
You Could’ve lived, left him there on the cool slab of the concrete, the beast that was too far over their heads coming his way. He could’ve handled it, Sukuna was a stubborn bastard, but wouldn’t let him die.
You were and utter fool and he cursed about it to this day.
But it all felt like slow motion, the pounding of your footsteps hitting against the ground, his weak shouts trying to get you to go back. The drop in his stomach as that sickening crack echoed out the domain.
There was so much blood, the walls were splattered with it, the floor painted a sea of red, your body nothing more than crushed remembrance of what it used to be.
He’s never felt such a feeling of rage so strong before. All his actions a blur until late on. When he’s bound by a cursed rope and set aside near the school where the cursed demon was located.
A stretcher hauling, what’s once was your body. Your hand peeking out from under the blood covers. That’s all it took for him to lose it.
The rope keeping his struggling body from moving as he sobbed hysterically.
“S/O! S/O! Answer me please..please! Why would you do that?! You’re such an idiot damnit, don’t you dare leave me...you promised.” He fell over the harsh ground, tears cascading down from his cheek to the floor.
Fushiguro and Nobara gazes lowered to the ground. Effectively trying to hold back their friend as your body was carried off.
His sobs turning into quiet whimpers. It dawned on him, he’s was official alone now. You and his Grampa being taken from him unfairly. He had no one, you would never smiles at him agian
Slap his head whenever he got a little to handsy or tease Him relentless when he slipped up and blurtted out random things
Your sweet laugh would be distance memory of the past, something that made his heart squeeze with hurt.
“That’s no fair...it’s not fair.” He mumbles soflty to himself
Sukuna for once, was eerily silent.
✵𝗳𝘂𝘀𝗵𝗶𝗴𝘂𝗿𝗼 𝗠𝗲𝗴𝘂𝗺𝗶✵
He still couldn’t believe it. It all happened so quickly. One minute you two were sharing a passionate night, basking under the moonlight as you kiss and bodies dance together.
And the next, he’s cradling your bleeding body, words stuck in his throat and horror swirling on his eyes. Trembling hands trying to stop the blood from gushing out from your neck.
The bastard had got away but he could care less. “S-s/o..just...just stay awake for me okay...c-can you do that for me?” His words trembled off his lips, your eyes shifting over to his. The dullness setting in.
Weakly, your fingers brush over his cheek, his hands reaching up and taking hold of them as he kiss over the knuckle. “You’re....you’re gonna be okay! I promise the others are coming.” He hadn’t realized it but tears had already started falling from his eyes.
He was lying out his ass, the culprit behind this, another cursed user, has been terrorizing this part of town for months now. They weren’t letting him getaway, so you’re mostly his responsibility till the aftermath. He knew you didn’t have that long.
He went to move you but you grunt in pain, more blood pooling out from the wound. He cursed and held you on the bloodstained ground.
“I’m sorry...I-I’m so sorry..” he mumbles into your neck, uncaring if his face was stained with blood as his quiet sobs racked his body.
With as much strength you could muster, you raised your hand to be lazily placed over his head and stroked it over it like you always did.
“I...I l-love you..” you whispered to him, your body becoming slack and your hand falling to your side.
He didn’t need to check, he didn’t need to see whatever expression your face was making to know that you were gone. His grip over your lifeless body tightens, his cries reaching into screams.
This felt all too familiar to him.
He wanted to blame you for breaking his defense, to inching so close to his heart. For making him so happy and attached, but he couldn’t lie and say he didn’t enjoy the moments that came with it.
The memories that’ll forever stay replaying like a broken record in his mind. This is why he didn’t try to make friends, he didn’t try to get close, he hated that he loved you so much.
✵𝗡𝗼𝗯𝗮𝗿𝗮 𝗞𝘂𝗴𝗶𝘀𝗮𝗸𝗶✵
Maybe she was too mean to you, not caring enough, She mishandled you to many times, to many fights and arguments over tedious things that should have been left as it was.
Was this her punishment? She allowed for such actions to boil and fester, and now what? A dumb argument over a stupid past that no longer connected to you and the exchange was your life. 
Even though you said you sorry’s, I love you’s, there was still tension before you both part. Nobara saving to say all those mushy things she felt for when you were back in her arms
Oh, the deep regret she felt.
The way her teammates came back quieter than usual and more seemly more sluggish then earlier
“What are you idiots standing like that for, that cursed demon shake you that bad. Hmph, simple enough what would you guys be with me?” She teased her sly smile spreading over her lips before it falter
They didn’t even try to agrue much less protest, they just seem distraught, stunned even. Then I dawned on her, they were missing someone...they were missing you.
“Where’s...where’s s/o?” She asked them soflty. A look of guilt overcame Yuji's features as he fished for something out of his pocket.
Confusion ran across Nobara face before it morphed into horror. A single scrap of a school uniform being held out in his hand.
“We...we couldn’t get their body..” Megumi finished his gaze meeting her’s before falling back to his feet. Fist clenched tightly to his side.
She barely heard anything after that, her eyes fixated on the single scrap of clothing. She inched to Yuji taking it and stroking her thumb over the material.
She bites her bottom lip, this was fates cruels joke. She didn’t deserve you from the beginning, it seems like everywhere she went someone had to leave her.
But why did it have to be violent? Why you out of all people. Maybe she should have told her how much you meant to her.
How much of a rock and pillars you were in this crazy life of hers. A beam of reassurance and love that she could always depend on whenever she needed you.
How does she continue now, that beams were gone, taken from her so harshly. The only things she could cling so desperately to have been the last thing she saw you in.
What a cruel world she lived in.
✵𝐫𝐲𝐨𝐦𝐞𝐧 𝐬𝐮𝐤𝐮𝐧𝐚✵
There was always some form of a catch when it came to huamsn. No relationship or friendship was formed without a common goal or another interest being taken into play.
The sweet smiles, honey-coated words, and gentle touches were always a facade...wasn’t it?
He could care less about what happened to you, what became of you. After all humans are dirty devilish creatures so even more so then cursed beast.
But he didn’t understand... he didn’t understand why he felt such strong stings of anger, sadness, and a bit of shock bubble in him as you push him out the way.
Did you place some sort of technique over him, that made the king of curses catch such disease as emotions? Laced your words and touches with magic that only you could see and undo....no that’s not it.
Possible it was this damn vessel's fault. Always hanging off your words and embraces like a lovesick fool. Opting to distract himself with your praise and love then rather focus on what’s important at hand.
though denying that he didn't enjoy your persevere, from time to time would make the ping of guilt worsen.
Your body hit the floor with a loud thud, the gaping hole through your chest made the anger and feelings of anguish flow in him.
He didn’t even notice when he had taken over Yuji's body, destroying the very thing that took you away from him. The slaughter more animalistic and erratic as his state of sanity seems to be blown out the window.
He cares not for the look of horror and fear that clouded Yuji's teammate's face. Not concerning much of his attention to them, he came over, plucked your dead body from the ground, and disappear.
Appearing back to that place you talked with Yuji so dearly about..what was it again. He couldn’t recall the name, only knowing about the large wisteria trees that guard the scenery. 
“Dumb human...surely foolish beings you are.” He mumbles you head was press into his chest as he looked out from the Cliffs view.
“Look what you have done, making me feeling things for you..” his voice soft as he pushed back small strands from your face. Yuji memories of this morning playing back
“You two better make it out of here alive or I’m kicking both of your butts.” You proclaimed earning a whine from Yuji and scoff from Sukuna as he appeared on the other’s cheek. “Dare I ask how you’ll be able to deafest me, don’t bite more than what you can chew.” He threatens but only succeeded in making you laugh, “Mhm..yeah you’re right I’m just worried about my two favorite boys.” You had told them, leaning in and kissing a flustered Yuji, “I love you both so be safe.” Okay and no stupid actions.” You scolded Yuji plucking the boy's head.
A weak laugh fell off from his lips, “Looks who’s talking, you’re the one that’s gone and died on us..” he spoke aloud. Moving to crouch by the tree and sit your body against the bark.
He let one finger trail over your lips and down your features letting them be engraved in his memory as he gazes down at you.
That disease having still affecting him, even as you lay dead in front of him. These feeling of sadness and heart ach and most of all loneliness suffocating and clawing at his throat
He dare not shed a tear, Yuji would do enough of that for the both of them. Instead, he let his hand gently cup over your cold and colorless cheek. The warmth he remembers oh so clearly, know felt like something that occurs ages ago.
He leans his forehead against yours and shutting his eyes, and allowing Yuji to take control.
You’d never heard him say, though he wished you are hear so he could that dazzling smile as he did
“I love you... S/o.”

#jujutsu kaisen#gojo saturo x reader#jjk fushiguro#jjk yuji#jjk nobara#jjk gojo#jjk sukuna#yuji itadori x reader#fushiguro x reader#nobara x reader#jjk headcanons#jjk angst#sukuna x reader
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(You do realize that I am watching markiplier while making this Series? Okay now you know. But now Part3!)
The Train Shift Pt.3 (Yan! Android! Ingo and Emmet x Night Guard Reader)
You felt uncomfortable the whole time you were home, drinking some water distracting yourself with the latest episode of a dramatic tv show.
Then your phone rang with the alarm, 11:45 pm, you could only wince before grabbing it and turning it off before putting on your uniform and going into the building.
You could only read the news from the newspapers your brought and flip through it seeing the latest news.
‘BODY FOUND IN THE ALLEYWAY, POLICE NOW SEARCHING FOR KILLER.’
‘PHOTO OF A STRANGE FIGURE HIDING IN THE ALLEYWAYS, CRYPTID OR A RACCOON?’
Then you heard the tape going off.
‘Hello! Glad you are alright! Many people don’t last this long! Well you know, they usually switch to another job at the 2 night. Well I’m going to explain about the android since many times people don’t actually know them all. Well let’s see there are Cilan, Chili, Cress, Lenora, Burgh, Elesa, Skyla, Clay, Brycen, and Drayden. Originally it was supposed to be only the gym leaders but when the Subway bosses started to get popular and many children wanted to have them along with the gym leaders, the company decided that it would be good for business.’
You listened to his rambles and blankly stared at the audio recording.
But you shrugged and looked at your newspaper looking at the latest gossip in town, and it was too good.
Meanwhile……
The androids were up, they all gone down to the backstage center deciding whether or not to dispose of the night guard.
‘I say we just stuff them in a suit, like we did with all of the others.’ Said Skyla.
‘I agree that method never gets old.’ Said Lenora.
‘Where are the triplets? Asked Burgh.
‘In the kitchen again.’ Said Elesa.
‘Besides the point, are we going to keep them or not?’ Asked Drayden his terrifying figure never failed to make the others appear small.
‘I say that we do.’ Said a jolly tone. All of the gym leaders looked at the brothers while Elesa only continued to look at the map of the building.
‘I agree with my brother, as much as you want to kill them, we cannot allow all of you to slaughter them.’ Said Ingo.
‘I’m fine with that idea, besides stuffing people into suits had me starting to get bored.’ Said Clay.
‘Can’t argue with them.’ Said Lenora nodding her head.
‘Fine….’ Said Skyla, still pissed about the night guard putting up that song that was too loud for her taste.
Okay so you haven’t already guessed, Ingo and Emmet are the big bosses around here, they ARE Subway bosses.
They all left one by one, then they heard something from the office.
You hit your head when you slipped from a bag, then you heard a crack, I think that was one of your legs breaking.
You began to army crawl to your monitor and check the cameras, Emmet was walking down the hallway and you began to force yourself to stand and cursed when you pressed the button forcing yourself to stand on your own.
You could only stare blankly at Emmet who stared at you then when he saw that your leg was hurt, you swore you never sweated so hard when his small smile turned into a terrifying grin.
You winced as you stood up and laid in your chair, your security guard hat covering some of your face as you breathed heavily.
You checked the cameras and saw that Skyla was marching up to the office, her eyes focused on the cameras as she began to run at full speed, you pressed the button and you heard Skylas hissed in frustration as she punched the door multiple times with no luck.
You could only breathe heavily and look at the batteries and time.
4 Am
5%
Fear crept into your mind as you began to panic, but your face was only blank, Skyla left in a hurry to her stage area, and Emmet stood there for a long time before going back to the dining area.
You could only sit there and force yourself to withstand the pain that your leg was screaming at you, but you miraculously kept standing, you knew that it was a risky choice to do but with no other options how?
5 Am
2%……………………1%
You checked the cameras before grabbing your flashlight on and staring at the dark hallway.
0%
The lights turned off and you ran you memorize the area and you decided to go to the restroom, you heard many footsteps as you hid in one of the stalls, they were searching for you, you heard many things, screams, punching, before everything went silent, but the door to the restroom opened.
You could only imagine how this would end, stuffing you in a suit, being killed and left for dead, many horrific things they would do. Suddenly you stopped breathing when you saw shoes right in front of you.
The door opened in full force and there was Emmet in all of his terrifying glory, smiling a wicked smile. He tilted his head and grinned wide, you in a small stall hiding and holding your breath, it was too perfect.
He grabbed you and forced you to the floor, you winced from his strength and him being on the injured leg, you were crying, this was the end.
Death finally arrived to claim you.
But no no no, Emmet wasn’t going to hurt you, not yet. He held a finger against his lips, his grin turning giddy with excitement.
You were confused but you stayed silent, too afraid to even scream.
Emmet was leaning in close to your body and quickly began to take off your jacket roughly, he never liked it anyway. And there you were, underneath him with a loose t shirt, could this interaction get any better?
You started to tremble from the cold, Emmet’s hand began to caress your skin, warm, this warmth made him began to make his smile more wider, his cold metal hand made you tremble even further, a slight whimper escaped, Emmet stopped, before he held his hand close to his mouth looking at you, before his grin became more wider, his eyes now fully focused on your petrified eyes.
His hands started to vibrate.
His face went close to your ear, you heard Emmet’s hot breath, then you felt his vibrating hands starting to explore you, then they began to start to get lower to your waist.
You should have squirmed, kicked, pleaded, screamed even. But no Emmet started to press into your injured leg and began to nibble your ear as you felt his hands starting to pull down your pants to begin.
But then your watch began to ring, 6 AM. Emmet paused, then he quickly turned to leave but not before he looked at you fully, a hot mess. You only looked at him with fear and shock.
When he finally left you looked so shocked, what the actual fuck just happened?! You quickly fixed yourself before running into your office to see that a few things were destroyed, the chair, the cupcake was splattered on the floor and a crushed sound monitor, they knew.
You only grabbed all of your things before sprinting to the exit and leaving but not before you saw Emmet looking at you with a terrifying grin.
You went to the hospital and they gave you crutches until your leg got better, you could only stare into space your mind could only go back to what happened last night with the android.
But then you got a call, you picked it up to hear that the daytime guard was in sick and that you would have to stay for full time and he offered you a high raise.
You mute yourself, you thought for a moment, you still were a bit traumatized by Emmet’s actions but you weren’t payed enough for all of this bull crap anyway so you unmute yourself and agreed.
Two more mistakes, only one more to go.
>Part1?
>Part2?
>Part3<
>Part4?
>Part5?
#yandere#ingo pokemon#ingo pkmn#subway boss ingo#emmet and ingo#submas ingo#subway boss emmet#subway master emmet#android#heh 😏
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Being the main writer for the college paper made it particularly hard for people not to be in your business because, well, you were in their’s. Thus, everyone in the school was aware of your relationship with Juyeon and Hyunjae. But, that doesn’t stop a flirty athlete from hitting on you.
>>Pairing: Lee Jaehyun x Lee Juyeon (doms) x fem!reader (sub) | athletes!jaehyun and juyeon x writer!reader
>>Word Count: 4.3k
>>Genre: Oneshot / Requested / Smut
>>Warnings/Kinks: Choking, creampie, cum eating, cum play, double penetration, exhibitionism/public sex, harassment (not from the boys), marking, oral (giving + receiving), possessiveness, praise, saliva, and unprotected sex

The reminder you had set on your phone was not enough to take your focus off the man in front of you.
Truth be told, you were quite forgetful for a person with such a tight schedule.
Writing on your hand was tried. It didn’t really work considering you washed your hands consistently throughout the day (damn the germs in colleges), smudging the ink to an unreadable blur on your hand.
Thankfully, that’s how you had met your boyfriends. Yeah, plural. There’s an s there.
You had been rushing towards an assignment you had been given for the paper. It was a request to interview some of the top students in the music department and damn late wasn’t even enough of a word to describe how long ago you were supposed to be there.
Showing up a couple hours late resulted in most of the students already gone, hiding away in their dorms for the afternoon.
But, there were two students still waiting for you. Lee Jaehyun (although he likes people to call him Hyunjae) and Lee Juyeon.
They were your saving grace for your paper and, in return, you let them take you out on a date.
Now, months later, your relationship with them still ran strong.
But, apparently your hearing didn’t because the reminder sound on your phone didn’t even register as you write down practically everything the athlete was telling you.
He actually was a classmate of your’s and a pretty popular one at that. The whole school practically knew about him.
“And that’s how I beat the record”, you nodded sweetly, keeping that signature interviewer smile on your face. It did a fantastic job of getting people to open up and this guy was no exception.
“So, one last question, are you dating anyone?”, you weren’t asking for yourself. Especially not when you were already quite... busy... with the two men you were already dating. It was more for the majority of the female population in the school who did like him.
Besides, everyone in the school knew about you and, more specifically, your polyamorous relationship. It wasn’t seen everyday to be fair. You three stuck out like a sore thumb.
“No, I haven’t really been looking”, bullshit. You had been to the football games, the man loved to rile up the crowd. He practically chucked his shirt into a girl’s face the other night when it was “too hot”.
It was just above 50 degrees that night.
“I see. Thank you for the interview”, you smiled and he nodded, smiling back at you before a lightbulb seemed to go off in his mind.
“Are you looking?”, he must have noticed the shocked expression you had because his hand encased your’s, seemingly trying to soothe you as his thumb traced the back of your hand.
All it did was make you more anxious.
“No, sorry, I’m not. I’m actually taken”, there goes that reminder again but you ignored it. It was probably just your reminder to take your gummy vitamins or something stupid the boys put in there because they cared. Maybe a little too much sometimes.
“Oh, by who?”, it wasn’t a curious question. He didn’t believe you. His tone said it.
“By us”, uh oh.
Turning around, you were met with your two lovers. They hovered over you like angry wolves and you could only feel like a little lamb underneath them.
The athlete had flirted with you before and that only made the situation more intense. Of course the football player knew about your relationship. It just didn’t seem to matter to him.
Until, well, now you guess.
“You didn’t come”, shit. So, that was the reminder?
You had a date with them after this interview and it completely flew out of your mind like a paper lost in the wind.
“Sorry, I lost track of time”, they nodded and, for a moment, you thought you saw their eyes soften as they look at you but they just returned back to those icy cold stares.
Even the muscular athlete was scared. Everyone knew how possessive your boyfriends were.
It was pretty obvious after a particularly ignorant party animal laid his drunk hands on you. Before he could do anything else, he was already thrown on the floor with Juyeon’s fist landing on his cheek while Hyunjae pulled you back into his chest like he was some kind of shield.
It was hot, you weren’t going to lie, but it did make you a little worried for people you truly did just want to be friends with.
“Hey, babies, let’s go. Let’s go have our date now”, you placed each of your hands on their chests. It was a gentle move that always seemed to calm them and you smiled as you felt their heartbeats slow down, your own starting to match theirs as you felt it through your hands.
“Fine but you”, Hyunjae pointed with precision at the man, “stay away from her. She doesn’t like you and she’s said no multiple times. She’s ours” the man finally nodded and ran off while you were stuck standing there with a wave of arousal shooting to your core.
Ignore it. You can’t be walking around with marks again-
The internal scold fell short as the boys wrapped you up in a hug. You could practically feel the warmth from their anger coming off of them in waves.
“Next time listen to your reminders. We set them for you for a reason”, Hyunjae scolded you, grabbing your phone to turn off the pesky sound. You really didn’t hear it. Maybe your hearing does need to be checked.
“I know I know. I’m forgetful”, you pout and the boys looked at it, wanting nothing more than to kiss your pouty lips until they’re swollen. Juyeon just chuckles instead and ruffles your hair sweetly.
It was such a sharp contrast to how cold he looked a minute ago but you were used to it. They were usually cold to others but were exceptionally sweet to you.
Well, most of the time.
“Come on, dory. We’ve got to get outside”, that’s always been Hyunjae’s favorite nickname for you. Sadly, you couldn’t argue that it didn’t suit you.
Sometimes you even forget what your name is.
“Okay”, you nodded and held their hands, walking securely in between them. You always did feel safe with your boyfriends and being without them was honestly terrifying. They were like your bodyguards.
Out in the beautiful field of the campus was a little picnic blanket, laid out with plenty of your favorite foods.
They always loved to spoil you and, while the sight in front of you wasn’t much of a surprise considering it was their favorite form of dates, it made you happy nonetheless.
“Aw, thank you boys”, you gave them both a peck on the cheek and sat down. You weren’t much for public displays of affection.
Hand holding? That was fine. It was their way of saying that you were their’s. But, the bigger things like kissing or hugging? That was more of a private thing for you.
Those were actions you did when the three of you could safely display your love for one another without being judged because, let’s be honest, you’re not much of the outgoing type.
Sure, you have to talk to lots of people for your writing, but that didn’t mean you liked to. You actually liked to keep to yourself.
It was odd considering Hyunjae and Juyeon were quite popular due to their singing skills. Everyone wanted them but they only had their eyes set on you.
They helped you sit down, filling up your plate with delicious treats that almost had you drooling. You just realized how hungry you were when your stomach let out the most obnoxious growl you had ever heard.
Okay- maybe you also forget to take care of yourself. When you’re busy the last thing on your mind is what your body wants. Just the task at hand is important.
“Dory, do we need to start setting reminders for food and stuff too?”, Hyunjae shook his head as Juyeon handed you the plate of food. You quickly shook your head back, taking a bite of the fruit sitting on the plate in your lap.
“No, I just got busy. I’m not too hungry”, Hyunjae looked at you with the most untrusting look. He knew you and he knew that you frequently “got busy” and that meant you frequently forgot to take those vitamins or to at least drink water.
As you ate, you started to circle the important details you had written down during the interview, making a clear note in your head to add those facts into the paper.
Sad thing was: the athlete barely gave you anything to work with. Most of it was just bragging or hitting on you.
“What an asshole”, you sighed and rested your forehead on Juyeon’s shoulder. He simply chuckled and started to run his fingers through your hair. You weren’t a saint by any means but cussing was rare. You found it to be a bad habit in public while you swore like a sailor in the safety of your bedroom.
“Frustrated?”, Hyunjae asked, rubbing your back with his large palm, working the knot he knew you had. They really did know your body so well.
“Yeah, he didn’t really give me anything to work with. Just flirting”, you didn’t mean to let the last part slip out. It was just what you thinking about and sometimes that filter in your brain was clogged with all the useless information you kept there.
“Maybe you could do your report on someone else?”, surprisingly, the response was calm and you had to let out a sigh of relief.
“Maybe. I’d have to ask”, you were the writer for the school but it didn’t mean you had free will. Everything had to be ran by someone else. Every decision.
“Alright, I’d feel much more comfortable if you didn’t have to talk to that guy again”, you nodded in agreement.
God forbid something go right because weeks later, after one failed attempt at switching stories, you were put on the athlete’s case once again. This time it was because he was the reason the school won against their rivals.
So, there you sat on the desk chair. You had just finished your journalism class and, ironically, the jerk was in the class with you. You both just agreed to do the interview in the classroom.
You had already told the boys about it and they promised to check in soon. You were worried but also thankful. Your gut had an awful feeling about this guy.
As you were reaching for your notepad and pen, a hand stopped you. It was wrapped around your wrist and you looked up in surprise to see the athlete’s eyes sparkling with mischief.
That can’t be good.
“Come on, no one has denied me before. Why won’t you go out with me?”, it made you scoff and you yanked your wrist from his cold, rubbing the red flesh with your other hand.
“Because I’m taken. So, drop it”, that seemed to strike a nerve. He looked furious and fear flowed through your body when he got up.
Before he could reach you, a hand gripped the collar of his shirt, lifting him up and throwing him out of the room. Juyeon rushed to you, gently wiping away tears with his thumbs.
Wait- you were crying? You hadn’t even noticed.
Hyunjae seemed to take the high road and just simply shut the door in the student’s face, locking him out.
They honestly rarely fought but when they did it was brutal. That’s why they tried to never do it in front of you.
“Are you okay? He didn’t touch you?”, you reassured him you were fine by letting him look you over, his eyes quickly looking over you as if you had some hidden life threatening injury.
After some time, you were already feeling better. The boys had made it their mission to make you laugh as much as possible in the classroom, doing silly dances and even tickling you. They just loved your laugh too much.
“Baby, I have an idea for your newspaper”, Hyunjae looked a little dazed. Well, more than dazed. You couldn’t blame him considering you had all been playing a game of cards and you sucked so fucking bad at it. Therefore, your little game of stripping if you lost resulting in the boys completely clothed while you sat there completely bare.
“And what is that?”, you shivered as the cold air hit your back. Juyeon pulled you in between his legs and wrapped his arms around you in an attempt to keep you warm. Plus, his hold was barely below your breasts and he truly did love those.
“Make it a smut”, you gasped when Hyunjae connected his lips with your’s harshly, a little more rough than usual. Then, it hit you, they held all that anger in just to use it on you.
While you would never actually write a smut for the school paper (unless you really wanted to be fired), you liked to idea of using it to rile them up. They loved your writing and, more specifically, the wonderful sex scenes you wrote.
Anytime you were busy, you’d write them one and then you’d be happy to oblige to their request to act it out when you got back to your dorm. Sometimes they were short scenes and sometimes they were long. Either way, the boys were happy to help you fulfill your fantasies.
The only difference today is that there is no prompt. They get to make up the story themselves.
“Do you want me to tell everyone how good you two fuck me? How well you stretch me out?”, just your words alone had Juyeon’s erection desperately trying to escape the confinement of his jeans. You could feel the bulge against your back and you watched as the wetness started to coat your thighs.
“Yes, tell everyone how good we make you feel”, you nodded in agreement and looked at the door, thankful that there was no windows uncovered in the room.
Finally, feeling safe, you turned around and started to unzip Juyeon’s jeans, pulling it down his legs along with his boxers. You simply tossed them, watching them land on the surface of one of the desks.
Hyunjae wasn’t far behind, removing his own clothes and doing a similar action to them, discarding them as if they were the trash beneath his feet.
“Turn around”, you nodded, turned your body back around and you immediately knew what he wanted. You leaned down to make yourself level with his cock, your eyes running over the veins and the angry red tip. Your ass was right where the man wanted it, high up in front of him.
Your lips wrapped around his shaft, running your tongue along the sides to coat it in your saliva. It always made the movements a bit easier. Juyeon groaned and dove his tongue down your slit, suckling at your clit once he reached it.
The moan you let out sent a vibration through his sensitive tip, causing his thighs to shake slightly. It was a beautiful sight.
Not forgetting about your other boyfriend, you looked up to make eye contact with Hyunjae. He licked his lips as he watched you practically gag on the large cock that belonged to Juyeon.
He was always a bit of a voyeur and, as much as he loved the sight, he couldn’t wait any longer. He sat on his knees next to you and moved his own cock closer to your mouth.
Hyunjae was bigger than Juyeon, stretching you out beyond belief but Juyeon was longer, hitting your cervix with every thrust. Both were a perfect mix of pleasure and pain. Different but well balanced.
You brought your head back, releasing Juyeon from your mouth and you replaced where your mouth had been with your hand, jerking the man off. A long string of saliva connected your mouth to his but you couldn’t care because Hyunjae’s dick was far too tempting to forget.
You wrapped your mouth around his cock now, feeling your jaw lock slightly from the sheer volume you had taken in. He was just as delicious as the previous one and you couldn’t help yourself from sucking him like he was your favorite lollipop. To be honest, he was.
Juyeon slipped a finger inside of your dripping cunt and you whimpered, listening to the sound of your pussy clenching around the digit, soaking it in your wetness.
“I think she can take both of us now”, you stopped for a moment, a little surprised. Sure, you three had discussed double penetration but you never really felt ready. Could you really handle that much?
Maybe you could.
“Let’s do it”, your words came out muffled since you were still infatuated with the taste of Hyunjae’s dick. The boys smirked at one another and Hyunjae gripped your hair to pull you off of him. Your hand instinctively let go of Juyeon’s dick too, missing the feeling of having something to play with.
You never liked to sit still but you knew you probably were going to have to after this session.
“Up here then, baby”, Hyunjae chuckled as you yelped, his arms under your body as he laid you across the desk. You winced when a pencil sharpener landed on the floor off the desk, probably breaking into pieces.
How had no one heard you before this? You had no idea.
Juyeon got up off the floor, rushing to Hyunjae’s side. Hyunjae held your thigh and pushed it open more, taking in the beautiful sight of your glistening pussy. It was his favorite work of art and Juyeon wanted nothing more than to continue the feast he was in the middle of.
“Alright, we’ll go one at a time, okay? If we need to stop then tell us. You okay with this still?”, Juyeon asked softly. Despite how cold they were, they still asked for permission and it was especially important now.
“I’m okay with it. I’ll tell you if you have to stop”, you nodded and looked up at the two. Fuck, you were so lucky.
They both had little stars in their eyes whenever they looked at you and it always reminded you that they were indeed your stars. Those little stars in their eyes only lit up when they looked at you.
Hyunjae decided to go first as the bigger of the two, gently easing his way into you. The stretch was slightly uncomfortable at first but no longer painful. You had adjusted to both of them rather quickly solo but together? That may be a bit harder.
Right when he brushed against that specific spot inside of you, you covered your mouth and moaned, gripping the edge of the desk.
Hyunjae watched you, smirking when he realized you were already becoming overwhelmed with pleasure. He loved watching you try to hold onto anything to keep your grounded to reality. He always seemed to bring you to cloud 9.
“All in. Now you’ll take Juyeon too, right? You’ll be a good girl and take him too?”, you nodded obediently and looked between your legs, noticing that Hyunjae had completely bottomed out inside of you. You already seemed so full, a bulge present in your stomach from where Hyunjae had settled.
Truly, no one could make you feel this good with so little effort but them.
Juyeon gripped your other thigh and pressed small kisses there, a gentle reminder that it was okay to stop him. That he loved you.
He sucked a few marks to the skin, making you whine because once they start they don’t stop. You’ll be covered in marks by the end of the hour.
Once you were spread wider, almost completely folded, Juyeon guided his cock in beside Hyunjae’s. Now, that hurt.
“Slower! Slower please”, Juyeon quickly nodded, noticing that your eyes were watering. He gently wiped them away and stayed still for a moment so you could get used to the stretch. When you nodded, he slowly moved again and you felt your vagina quickly adjust to the size. Like you were made to handle both.
And, now, you couldn’t stop moaning under your hand. It did very little to muffle the noises but it was your only hope of not getting caught.
Hyunjae was pressed against your g-spot as Juyeon had taken it upon himself to settle his tip against your cervix. And, inside of you, their cocks rubbed against each other in an unspoken competition to see who could go deeper.
Of course, Juyeon would win that category but that didn’t matter to Hyunjae.
Both watched their bulges in your stomach as one pulled out and pushed back in. Then, they started alternating until you were so stretched out that they could move together in perfect unison.
The sounds of skin slapping filled the room as they fucked you raw, sharing you in the most perfect way. Everything felt so good that you could already feel the knot forming in your stomach, begging to be released and coat their cocks in your cum.
“You like it, hm? Does it feel good?”, Juyeon teased as he watched your eyes roll back and your nails dig into the wood beneath you. You nodded but your love didn’t like that. He gripped your throat, squeezing it slightly right where he needed to.
The blissful feeling only became more unbearable as you felt some oxygen escape your throat. Tears spilled down your cheeks before he let go, allowing you to breathe.
“Yes! Fuck, I love it!”, the boys leaned down to suck marks all over your breasts, stomach, and hips. Still easy to hide but you knew that wasn’t going to last long.
Their hips snapped against your core as they moved, Hyunjae’s pelvis bone rubbing against your clit perfectly. It made your mouth hang open in a tiny scream and you couldn’t hold it anymore, squirting all over the two as you came.
You had never done that and you were scared that they would hate it but the bright smiles on their faces made you relax. It made you feel good and that’s all that mattered to them.
As the thrusts continued, you squirmed from the overstimulation and Juyeon had to pin you down by your wrists to keep you from falling off the desk.
Their movements became more sloppy and they came together, filling up your clenching cunt with their cum. You felt way too full with all of it and their cocks still inside of you, tapping Juyeon’s arm in a silent plea.
He understood and nodded at Hyunjae, the both of them pulling out to milk the rest of their orgasm’s on whatever they could find. Your thighs, clit, stomach, chest, arms, etc. You looked like the filthiest thing they’ve ever seen and they couldn’t be more proud.
Juyeon put his clothes back on and went out to grab a towel from the locker room as Hyunjae just stared at the cum spilling out of you and down the side of the unfortunate wooden desk.
He seemed to be deep in thought as you tried to breathe correctly, his finger entering your hole without warning and you looked down to see him pull it out. He looked you dead in the eye as he licked off the mixture of cream, humming happily when he found out he loved the taste.
“We taste delicious together”, he leaned down and held your ankles as he started to lap at the cum dripping out of you, eating it up like it was a five star meal. You shivered from the feeling of his warm muscle meeting your cold skin as he licked you clean, licking his lips every time he came up for air.
“How in the world am I going to write an article when that is in my head?”, you motioned to the sight of the cum dripping down his chin. His lips were swollen and his brown locks stuck to his forehead from the sweat. He looked ravishing.
“Smut”, he popped the m for emphasis and you shook your head, letting him kiss you so you could taste it too. It tasted like the best mixture of fruit and you found yourself diving your tongue in his mouth for more.
“Oh yeah, we definitely have to stay together if this is how good we taste”, you giggled and Juyeon had entered just in time to get a taste too. He kissed you, swirling his tongue inside of your mouth before he pulled away. He licked his lips and acted as if he was critiquing a meal.
“I’d have to give my thanks to the chef”, he joked and you smiled, letting out a little chuckle as you tried to sit up but your legs were not having it and neither were your boyfriends.
They rubbed your thighs as you laid back down, trying to ease the soreness in them. Juyeon kissed your hand lovingly and your heart swelled from all the love you felt for the two.
You had no doubt that they were really the ones you were going to spend your life with.
“Looks like the school newspaper is going to have to wait. Unless you feel like writing on a cum stained desk”, Hyunjae chuckled and you huffed, knowing that that paper was definitely not going to be done by its due date.
#binxyu#lsn.works#hyunjae#juyeon#tbz hyunjae#tbz juyeon#lee jaehyun#lee juyeon#tbz#the boyz#tbz oneshots#the boyz oneshots#tbz smut#hyunjae smut#the boyz hyunjae smut#tbz imagines#the boyz imagines#kpop smut#kpop imagines#kpop oneshots#juyeon smut#the boyz juyeon smut#tbz x reader#the boyz x reader#the boyz smut
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ATEEZ San: The Calm After The Storm. (Oneshot)
Genre: angst, fluff, mafia au.
Pairing: Mafia!San x Reader (fem)
Word count: 3.5k
Inspiration: Fifty Shades Freed
Warnings: profanities, alcohol, blood, guns, death, violence.
"What the fuck is this?!" you asked through gritted teeth, throwing the freshly printed photos at San's chest.
Your husband didn't have to look at them to know what you were talking about; his men had already reported to him that you watched the entire recording of him seducing his... target.
"Babe—"
"No, San!" you yelled, cutting him off. "This is the fifth fucking time!"
"But the other one time wasn't about this."
"The other three, now four times were!" he was really getting on your nerves.
"Why are you overreacting?" he questioned with a sigh, pinching the bridge of his nose. "Y/N, you knew I had no choice."
You closed your eyes and took a deep breath, trying to control your anger. "I understand that you had to seduce her. I know that it's your job," you tried to say calmly, but your voice was rising. "What I don't understand is why you let her slip her fucking hand into your pants after you got the damn information that you wanted!"
San visibly gulped; he didn't expect you to be this angry. He thought he was well prepared to face you after mentally forming the situation in his head. He knew you'd be pissed, but not to this extent.
"I pushed her away though," he mumbled, running a hand through his hair.
"Yeah, after like, five minutes," you retort. "And the worst part was that you were clearly enjoying yourself in those five minutes! Do you know her or something?"
San sighed deeply, ignoring the question. "Babe, look, I'm sorry," he apologized, not sure about what else he could say to calm you down. Your husband took your hand in his. "I won't do it again, I promise."
You immediately ripped your hand away from his, rolling your eyes. "That's what you always say, San." He took a deep breath; you were testing his patience and he didn't like people doing that.
"San," you start, "How would you feel if you saw a guy kissing me and I get carried away and let him touch me?"
That struck him. Hard. He would hate it, obviously. San wouldn't even hesitate to put a bullet through the man's head if he touched you in any way.
San's silence gave you the answer. "That's what I thought," you snorted.
"Y/N, I'm sorry," San apologized again. "But I still had to do it and you know that."
"Whatever," you mumbled and turned around, heading to your room; he still didn't understand just how much it hurt you. It was already worse enough that you had to witness him kiss and touch all those women. But witnessing San let another woman touch him in the place where only you're allowed to, not only pissed you off, but also hurt you deeply. As the seducer of the mafia gang, he was literally trained to not get carried away; his only job was to get whatever information was needed. San was a very, very skilled seducer and you knew that damn well. Although he did get carried away a few times, he never let his targets touch him. So you couldn't understand why he let that happen now. You texted Yunho (your bestfriend and San's close friend) to ask about that woman, knowing that he would never lie to you.
Your anger increased when Yunho replied: "Oh, she hooked up with San a couple of times back in high school." You snorted in annoyance; so he let her touch him just because he knew her?
Your thoughts were interrupted by your phone's notification going off. Your friends were planning to go clubbing tonight as it was a Saturday. You were going to decline, knowing that San wouldn't let you go if he wasn't with you, but you decided against it; you had a plan in mind and you knew it would work.
You ignored San the entire afternoon. He tried to talk to you but you didn't even spare him a glance. He sighed, leaving you alone to cool down.
-
"Where are you going?" San asked, looking at you from head to toe, while your four year old daughter, Minhee, played with some toy aeroplanes.
"Clubbing," you answered without looking at him.
"You're not going anywhere," San said through gritted teeth. "Especially not wearing that." You were wearing denim shorts and a black lace bralette that showed off your cleavage more than you'd usually prefer. You purposely chose this outfit, of course, and he knew that.
"You don't get to decide where I go and what I wear," you stated. You walked over to your daughter, placing a kiss on her head. "Minnie," you called her by her nickname. "Mommy will be back soon, okay?" you said to your little angel before walking out the door.
-
"Y/N! You finally came!" one of your friends yelled, already drunk. She takes your hand and drags you through the crowd of people to get to the bar on the other side. "Three tequila shots for my friend here!"
A while later, you noticed Wooyoung and Mingi at the entrance of the club; you knew San would end up here as soon as he asks Seonghwa or Hongjoong to look after your daughter for the night.
And you were right.
San entered the club, dressed in all black, looking fucking hot. You wanted to go up to him and ask him to fuck you till you see stars; however, you were still pissed and had a plan to execute.
You quickly downed your shots and pulled your friend to join your other friends who were dancing. You danced with them until one of your friends introduced you to some random guys. One of the guys, who you found really good looking, started to dance with you. You noticed San sitting on a barstool, watching everything. At that moment, the guy you were dancing with put his hands on your waist, pulling you close to him, making San nearly break the glass he was holding. Perfect. Your plan was working.
When you glanced at where San was seated, he wasn't there anymore. You glanced around, searching for him until you felt a hand wrap around your wrist, dragging you away.
San dragged you downstairs where there were private rooms especially for him and his gang members as they owned this club. He took you to the room belonging to him, locking the door behind him.
"What the fuck were you doing?! How could you let him even lay a finger on you?!" your husband snarled through gritted teeth.
You snorted. "All he did was put his hands on my waist. At least he didn't slip them into my pants and touch me."
San now understood exactly why you did that; you were giving him a taste of his own medicine.
You moved to sit on the sofa, your legs starting to hurt from dancing so much. San kneeled down in front of you, placing his hands on the bare skin of your thigh. "Babe, I'm sorry. I'm an asshole, I know. But please understand that chick meant nothing to me. I didn't even know her."
You pushed his hands away from you. "Don't lie to me."
"I'm not lying," he lied.
"You hooked up with her in high school," you deadpanned.
"Fuck," he muttered under his breath. He just fucked up again. "Y/N, I didn't mean to—"
You stood up from the couch. "No, fuck you, I'm done with you and your fucking bullshit," you snarled angrily, cutting him off, before making your way back to your friends.
"They might take this route instead, we can't predict what they'll do," Jongho said while moving around the meeting room; he was in charge of today's meeting on some mafia gang who had tried to hack into your gang's system to get information on your international drug deals.
During the meeting, your daughter's nanny called you. You declined the call, sending her a text that you were in a meeting. She called again and you ignored it, thinking she wouldn't have seen your message. When she called for the third time, you excused yourself from the meeting.
"I'm in a meeting, Jina, what is—"
"Mrs. Choi," she sobbed. "T-They took Minnie..."
"What?! Who?!" you felt your stomach churn uneasily.
"I-I don't know," Jina cried, "They beat me up at the park till I passed out and t-took her away. They said they would c-contact you."
"Where are you?" you asked.
"At a nearby hospital," she said. "An old couple brought me here."
"I'll be there in five," you said and hung up. You were just about to enter the meeting room, but an unknown number called you. You picked up, assuming it was your daughter's kidnappers since you never got calls from unknown numbers.
"You have a beautiful daughter, Choi Y/N," the man said. "I bet she would look even better with a slit throat, yeah?"
"Who are you? What do you want?" you asked, voice laced with venom.
The man chuckled. "It's simple, your fucking gang has to pay for my loss."
"Just tell me what the fuck you want!"
"Fifteen billion won in cash," he said. "That's the amount I lost because of you motherfuckers. Now listen to me carefully if you don't want your precious child dead. You aren't going to tell anyone about this. Not a word to your boss, Kim Hongjoong. Not a word to your pathetic husband, Choi San. I have eyes watching you, so don't try to act smart. I know you're having a meeting right now about a gang who tried to hack into your system." your eyes widened; how the fuck does this guy know? "I'm giving you three hours," he continued. "If you don't get the money within that time, I'll kill your daughter. Anyway, you'll find a black van waiting for you outside the bank. Your time starts now, Mrs. Choi. Tick tock, tick tock," he chuckled before hanging up.
"Fuck!" you yelled, tears spilling from your eyes. You ran your hand through your hair, trying to calm down; you felt like breaking down but you had to stay strong for your daughter. You wiped your tears before making your way back to the meeting room.
"I'm sorry, I'm feeling quite unwell," you mumbled, quickly collecting your stuff. "Please continue without me."
"Y/N, should I take you home?" San asked; you both still haven't made up from the fight you had a week ago. He tried to talk to you a few days ago, but it resulted in a bigger fight.
"No!" you half-yelled in frustration, startling some of the people in the room. "I'm fine," you said in a softer tone. You quickly left before San could follow you.
-
"Ah, Mrs. Choi, how can I help you?" the bank manager asked, taking a seat across you.
"I need fifteen billion won in cash," you stated, stunning the manager.
"Ma'am, that is a very large amount so cash isn't the best—"
"I need it in cash. It's really urgent," you said in an annoyed tone.
He gulped and nodded. "Please give me your national ID card."
You handed it to him, fiddling with your fingers while he entered your details into the computer system.
"You have a joint account with your husband, Choi San, correct?"
"Yes."
"Ma'am, we will need Mr. Choi's confirmation as he is the primary account holder."
You mentally cursed. "That won't be necessary," you stated, trying to control your anger.
The manager sighed. "All right, please give me a moment," he said before leaving the room.
You groaned in frustration, putting your head in your heads. You couldn't imagine what your little daughter was going through; you knew she would be scared to death. Your phone rang, interrupting your thoughts.
You declined the call when you saw it was your husband. When he called again, you had no choice but to pick it up, knowing he would keep calling you. "Hello?"
"Y/N, what are you doing? Why are you making such a huge transaction?" San questioned. You mentally cursed the bank manager for contacting San. "Y/N, answer me! What's wrong?" You just kept quiet, knowing you'd break down if you opened your mouth. You heard San take a deep breath. "Are you leaving me or something? Is this about the fights we've been having? I'm sorry about that, I know it was my fault and I don't deserve you, but please, let's talk about this," he begged, making your tears spill from your eyes. "Y/N, say something, please. Tell me what's wrong."
"I can't," you whispered, choking on a sob.
"Baby, please," he begged. "Don't leave me. Please, I'm begging you."
"I'm sorry, San."
There was silence on his end before he sighed. "Okay, take all the money you want," he said and hung up.
A moment later, the manager came into the room. "Ma'am, Mr. Choi has given his permission for the transaction. The procedure for huge cash transactions are of course different, so I need you sign a few papers and write a cheque. It'll take a little over half an hour to get the money in cash."
-
As soon as you got the cash, you called your daughter's kidnappers. "I assume you've got the money?"
"Yeah," you replied.
"Good. You'll see a black van from across the entrance of the bank," he said and hung up.
You quickly made your way outside, easily spotting the van. You crossed the street and got into the van.
You couldn't recognize the driver and the other man in the passenger seat. Your daughter wasn't even here.
"Good job, Mrs. Choi," the man in the passenger seat said with a smirk; you recognized him as the guy on the call.
"Where's my child?"
"Relax," he grinned. "We're going to her right now." He glanced at the driver who nodded and started driving.
"Ah, give me your phone," the man said. "We don't need your husband tracking us." You hesitantly gave it and he switched it off.
After what felt like hours, you reached an old building. As soon as you got outside the car, you spotted your daughter tied to a wall, unconscious with a bleeding head.
"Minhee!" you yelled, running to her.
Before you could untie her, you felt an arm go around your neck, choking you. Even though you were trained to fight, you weren't the best at it. Nevertheless, you tried to free yourself. You kicked the man in the shin, making his grip around you loosen. You took that opportunity to bite his hand before turning around, punching him in the face. You kept punching him until two other men grabbed you. You managed to get one of them injured by repeatedly kicking his private area, but the other guy one was too strong. He easily picked you and threw you onto the concrete floor, making you bang your head and knee. You groaned in pain, feeling a warm liquid running down your face. You pushed yourself to get up despite the excruciating pain you felt. His gun was pointed at you while he smiled. "Have a great time in hell, Choi Y/N."
Suddenly, a gunshot was heard and the man dropped his gun, clenching his hand in pain. A few more gunshots were fired at him, instantly killing him.
"Y/N!" you heard San scream. He picked you up in his arms bridal style, and you got a glimpse of his teary eyes.
"Min-Minhee," you murmured, struggling to keep your eyes open.
"Seonghwa's got her" was the last thing you heard before everything went black.
You slowly opened your ears, squinting due to the bright light. When your eyes adjusted, you realized you were in Yeosang's mini hospital at your gang's mansion. You turned your head to the side, spotting your husband reading some documents.
"San," you murmured, but it wasn't loud enough. "San," you raised your voice a little, coughing due to your extremely dry throat.
San immediately turned to you, eyes widening. "Y/N!" He quickly poured you a glass of orange juice since that was the first thing he saw. He helped you drink the juice, feeling so relieved to see you finally awake.
"How are you feeling, my love?" he asked, taking your hand in his.
"Where's Minhee?" you asked, panick clear in your eyes.
"Minnie is playing with Jongho and Yunho," San said, making you sigh in relief that your daughter was alive. "She's doing well. She got a few stitches, but it's healing quickly. Our daughter is very brave."
Your eyes teared up. "I'm sorry I couldn't tell you about—"
"Shh, don't," he cupped your cheek. "I understand why you did what you did, babe. I would've done that too. Anyway, we wiped out that entire gang and got the money back."
"What happened? How did you find me?"
"We killed all the four men and the other three who were hiding. One of them ran away to Japan, but Wooyoung and Mingi went there and killed him," San explained before getting a little nervous. "And um, don't be mad, but I put a tracker on your necklace."
You narrowed your eyes at him. "Hey, see, it proved to be helpful!" he said, putting his hands up defensively.
Before you could reply, San placed his hand over your mouth. He took a deep breath while a wide smile spread on his face. "I also have some good news."
"What's the news?" you asked, voice muffled due to San's hand on your mouth. He opened his mouth to reply, but the door burst open, revealing your daughter.
"Mommy!" she squealed, running to your bed, trying to get onto the bed that was too high for her.
San picked his daughter up, placing her beside you. "Be careful, angel. Mommy is still recovering." The little girl nodded at her father before looking at you.
"How you feel, mommy?" she asked.
"Much better, now that you're here," you replied, tickling her chin. Your daughter giggled, moving away from you. She placed her little hands on your stomach.
"Come out fast so that we can play!"
Your eyebrows furrowed in confusion before you glanced at San. "About that..." he chuckled, taking your hand in his. "We're having another baby. You're pregnant."
"W-What?" you gasped in shock. You and San had been trying to get another child for quite sometime now.
"Yeah," he giggled, kissing the back of your hand. "You're almost a month long and the baby is perfectly fine."
Happy tears streamed down your face while your hands moved to your stomach. San kissed your head before pulling away a little. "I know I've been getting on your nerves a lot, but thank you for blessing me with Minhee and now another baby," he mumbled. "I love you so much, my beautiful wife." He crashed his lips onto yours. You kissed him back, smiling into the kiss.
"Eww!" your daughter squealed in disgust. "I'm going to tell uncle Jongho that you're kissing!"
San pulled away with a giggle before lifting his daughter into his arms, placing kisses all over her face while she squirmed around, laughing loudly.
You lovingly watched the two of them with a large smile on your face, and you couldn't wait for the future when your new baby would arrive, adding more happiness to your and your family's lives.
#ateez#ateez imagines#ateez reactions#ateez angst#ateez fluff#ateez mafia au#mafia ateez#ateez san#ateez choi san#san#choi san#ateez x reader#ateez fanfiction#san x reader#choi san imagines#Hongjoong#Seonghwa#yunho#yeosang#mingi#wooyoung#jongho#mafia san#choi san fanfic#park Seonghwa#jeong yunho#kang yeosang#jung wooyoung#choi jongho
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“harry’s stylist, right?” part II
Harry and his stylist go from colleagues to friends to lovers because they’ve been in love with each other from the jump
this gif bc i couldn’t fine the fit i wanted to showcase, but that night him and y/n get closer than they had gotten before :))
and we’re back :) - this is the last part of this i may do some little blurbs and stuff about these two if people want it (maybe) i hope you all enjoy this part, it’s not proofread so sorry about that lol. Feedback and reblogs are so very very appreciated, also feel free to message me about you’re feelings about this
Word Count: just over 10k | Warnings: swearing, alcohol consumption, implication of smut, i think that’s it
part 1
-
After the call with Jeff, which wasn’t really a conversation at all, moreso a berating from him, she was in the worst mood. She shrugged off the Bode jacket and hung it up in her entryway closet. She wasn’t planning on wearing it ever again. Without the jacket on, her shirt that seemed to be exactly on the nose with it’s “we’re in the shit” graphic was clear and she untucked it from her light mint pants. She was exhausted, both physically and mentally. Instead of picking her phone up again, she decided she could do without communication for a while. Her feet padded to her bedroom, after removing her nikes and socks. In her bedroom she opened up her record player, wanting music, but not wanting to be bothered with her laptop since it had a connection to the internet.
She grabbed her Electric Warrior by T. Rex and slipped out the first record from its sheath. As she set up the music, she couldn’t remember where she’d even gotten the record but for some reason it had called to. She skipped over Mambo Sun, the first track, though, and had it play Cosmic Dancer first. It was calming to her, she swayed a bit to the soothing beat and then climbed into her bed. Staring at the ceiling, she wondered about when her life had gotten so complicated. The rhythm in the music and the exhausting thought material lulled her to sleep as the afternoon sun washed her room a perfect golden from behind her shade.
When she woke up again, it was midnight and she was starving. The record had stopped spinning hours ago, she hadn’t even gotten through side A. It was forgotten as she made her way to her kitchen, groggily.
After settling on cereal and an alcoholic seltzer for dinner, she was really in the mood to treat herself, she made her way back to her living space. On the couch, she tucked her legs beneath herself and spooned the sugary food into her mouth. She had only soy milk in the place because she didn’t like cow’s milk and it didn’t keep when she was gone for extended periods of time. Then as she sipped from the black cherry White Claw, she dug her hand into the cushion next to her. Her hand reemerged with her discarded phone from earlier. She decided it was reasonable to go on it now.
More messages from various people in her life and hundreds of social media notifications. She was going to ignore social media for as long as she possibly could. Four missed calls. 2 voicemails. Styles Harry. Why she kept contacts backwards in her phone was unimportant, it’s just what she did.
She sighed and took a bigger sip of the barely alcoholic drink. Then clicked the voicemail notifications and pressed the first one on speaker as she began to read his texts as well. Then the next voicemail. She checked the time in California, it was still a reasonable part of the day there so instead of texting back she rang him.
“Hello?”
“Har- H. Hi.”
“Y/N! Are you alright?” The concern apparent in his tone. She was taken aback. He hadn’t necessarily sounded angry in his texts or voicemails, but she just assumed he was being courteous since it was a live conversation.
“You’re not mad at me?”
“No! Why would I be?”
“Because I just had my ass handed to me by Jeff earlier.” She slightly mumbled and shrugged, still upset with how she had been spoken to by Jeff.
“Oh gosh, I told him not to be harsh. It’s honestly not a big deal. I thought it was fine, you texted me too!”
“Yeah, well apparently wearing your clothes means we’re dating and that’s not cool in the world’s eyes,” you scoff.
“I know how much you like that coat...I thought you looked great in it, too.” He finishes in a slight whisper, not wanting to be overheard.
“Harry…” you can’t keep the smile off your face. It was a cute compliment even if the situation wasn’t ideal. “Why do your fans have to be so smart and know there’s only two of those coats in the world and I don’t own the other one.”
He laughs, blushing at how you said his name. This time not using his nickname didn’t bother him, it felt even more intimate somehow.
He rubs a hand through his hair, “I know, pesky little devils, gotta love’em, though”
She hums, not sure if she can agree about loving them right now since they’re probably eating her alive all over social media.
“So you’re alright, darling?” He asks again.
“Mhmm,” she pauses at the pet name, it was soothing right now. All she wanted was to curl into his chest, but he was half a world away, quite literally. His words would have to do in his absence. “I’m really glad you’re not mad at me, H. That would’ve made this a hundred times worse.”
He huffs, wishing he could be with her to comfort her. He hated this part of his life. A friend couldn’t borrow a piece of his clothing without everyone assuming that they were seeing each other. It was disgusting and it made him dislike tabloids and social media even more than he already did.
“Trust me. I’d never be mad at you, pet. And I’d definitely never be mad at you for looking good as fuck in my clothes.”
“Shut up!” She squeals, his tone turning from earnest to teasing in one breath. He cackles on the other end of the line because despite her mean words, he could hear the smile on her lips.
“When are you flying back to London?” Her voice grows quiet again after she takes another sip of her drink.
“Thursday,” he almost whispers back, having contained his mirth again.
“We have some work to do on your Graham Norton and Jingle Bell Ball outfits. The listening party ones are all picked up -”
“Y/N,” Harry cuts her off, “It’s late for you, go to bed. Try not to stress out too much, we’ll talk when I’m back about work. For now, take a few days off to not think about my clothes.”
She sighs, “Thanks, H. You’re right. Have a good rest of your day.”
“Goodnight, m’love.”
She ends the phone call and chalks the almost ‘my’ sounding syllable that she heard before love was just her tired mind and Harry’s mumbling voice. It most certainly wasn’t.
-
After a restful few days of doing absolutely nothing, something rare for Y/N, she was extremely well rested. So much so that she was peacefully asleep when Harry let himself into her flat since they had agreed to meet at her place when he got back to London. As much as he wanted her to take time off and not over work herself, his schedule was a busy one and now that he was back, they had work to do.
Inside her flat, he was greeted with silence. He made his way to her bedroom at the back of the flat. He’d been here a handful of times. She always told him she preferred to spread out when she worked and Harry’s was the place for that. The door to the bedroom was slightly ajar and he pushed it open slowly with his ring clad hand. His black nails are freshly painted and shiny, no chips. Still in her bed, Y/N shifted around softly. He smiled to himself, taking in how the room smelled over lavender and how she had pink floral sheets. He walked to the window and raised the shade, hoping to have her wake up without and coaxing from him.
“H,” her voice mumbles into her pillow and he thinks she’s woken up. His face turns to look at her, but her eyes are still closed and she looks completely asleep. He wonders if she’s trying to trick him, but then she mumbles again.
“Mhhh, tha’ tickles,” and she giggles. He kind of grimaces, feeling like he shouldn’t be hearing this. He hadn’t known she spoke in her sleep, it was sweet, but with the context right now, he thought him having this knowledge might not sit well with her.
“Y/N,” he says loudly, before clearing his throat. Her eyes shoot wide and she sits up, dropping the sheet she had been snuggling.
“Harry! Oh my god!”
“Meeting, remember?”
“Oh my god,” she glances around her surroundings, Harry still standing at her window. “What time is it?”
“1 pm. We said 1 right?”
“We did, I just...I don’t know what happened. Sorry, give me a second. I’m out of it.”
When she emerged from her room, dressed and ready for the day, Harry had brewed a pot of coffee with her machine that she really only had for guests.
“Sorry again,” she sits at her countertop, searching for her notebook in her bag.
“No worries,” then he leans across the countertop, “Seemed like you were in the middle of a nice dream.”
His brows are raised as she avoids his gaze. She flushes easily, “I- it was...just one of those usual dreams.”
“You have dreams about me often?”
“I didn’t say that!” Her eyes shoot up to meet his and he grins. He takes a sip of his coffee before speaking again.
“I heard you say ‘H’.”
She rolls her eyes, “That proves nothing.”
They both stare at each other for a minute, not talking or moving. Harry is simply grinning at her as she twitches her hand with her pen in it now. Her eyes are trying to figure out what Harry’s getting at, searching his expression for how he feels about knowing she dreams of him. She certainly wasn’t going to get into it with him, even if he did continue prodding.
“Alright,” she begins when he doesn’t seem to want to press it further. “Oh!” She jumps up, dropping her pen and forgetting about whatever else she was going to say. “Your jacket! And shirt! I cleaned the shirt and the jacket…” She runs out of the room to go to her front closet where she had hung up both the jacket and the shirt.
Returning, she holds them out to Harry and he rounds the countertop to look at them.
“Perfect shape,” he admires the spotless shirt and his beloved jacket. He puts them on the back of the chair that was next to them. “Won’t forget my jacket again.”
She smiles sheepishly, thinking back to Jeff’s conversation with her. Harry notices her change in demeanor and takes one of her hands. Her eyes flash up to his face and her body tenses, he feels it even in her hand.
“Have you gone on any social media since you’ve been home?” His eyes are wide as he runs his thumb over the back of her hand.
She softens slightly, “Oh yeah, after the first day I decided to check. Most were funny and sweet, their nasty comments didn't get to me.”
Her eyes are big on her face and Harry watches as her worries and concerns all wash through the swirling colors in them. He wants to take all of that pain away and just stare into her abyss forever.
“What did Jeff say exactly?” He knows that’s what she’s alluding to. Harry loved his manager, but when he had called him about the jacket incident he had been pretty short with Harry and hadn’t given much information on his chat with Y/N. The way she looked right now bothered him because ultimately Harry was in charge of Y/N in his employment of her and if Jeff had acted like her superior in a way that was harmful he’d be downright upset.
Her eyes grow glassy immediately and Harry’s anger begins to bubble in the pit of his stomach. She tries to blink anything away, but fails.
“I don’t know why I’m crying, it wasn’t terrible. It’s just, all my life, I’ve had to work to be taken seriously because of who I am and I hate when I get talked down to by a man. Especially over a stupid fucking publicity thing for you. Like I’m sorry, but I don’t see you as a public figure where I have to worry about every goddamn thing I do messing up your image.” She pauses, taking a deep breath, realizing she’d gotten really worked up as she spoke. The tears running down her face more in anger than sadness. Harry watches on, letting her work through her thought process. “He was just so mean… for what?” She whispers finally.
“Oh god…darling,” Harry grips her hand more firmly. He wants to take her in his arms, but he’s not sure if that’s what’s best for her right now, so he just keeps holding her hand. She stares up at him, blowing a piece of hair out of her face. Her eyes now tinted a light red.
“I’m sorry he spoke to you in that way. That isn’t his job at all, I’ll definitely talk to him since I didn’t have the full story before. He gets very worried about the media perception thing, especially right now with the album.”
She bites the inside of her cheek, blinking up at Harry. “I know your image is important, too, otherwise why the fuck would I be here? Right? I just don’t think it’s that big of a deal I borrowed the jacket.”
“In a perfect world my image wouldn’t matter at all,” Harry sighed, “Fame is a stupid, fickle thing musicians like me get stuck with.”
“Please, you love the attention,” she teases, poking at his chest. The sweatshirt he wore wrinkling under her touch.
“‘M serious,” he insists, “I’m saying it shouldn’t matter that you borrowed my jacket, but sadly it comes across to the rest of the world like I’m dating you.” He pokes her sternum in return.
“And that would be the end of the world?” she smiles, her tone still teasing, but that worry is back and swimming in her eyes again.
This time, though, Harry must not see it because he laughs and lets go of her hand. “For a lot of people, I think it might be.”
She bites at her lip and tries to contain the laugh that bubbles in her. He was right and as he wandered back into the kitchen for more coffee, she shook her head trying to rid herself of those pesky feelings that had been hoping for a different answer.
-
The next few weeks go off without a hitch. Harry’s outfits look incredible for the listening parties. Then for the Graham Norton Show, the Jingle Bell Ball, and the One Night Only at the Forum. Every single outfit is received with praise and everything seems to be coming up Harry Styles. Y/N has been traveling to most of his appearances, making sure everything is in order before he goes out. She’s always by his side before he walks out into the public eye. Taking his picture and saving it in the lookbook that keeps growing, smoothing over his lapels, either unbuttoning or buttoning a middle button when she thought he had too many or not enough undone for the look. Whatever it was, she was there for him.
Then, after his appearances, they would debrief. Debriefs really were just time that Harry carved out in his schedule to just be alone with Y/N. Sure, they talked about clothes, that’s how they had first connected, but it always turned to other ideas. They’d talk about his songs and she’d ask about the meanings that he wouldn’t share with the rest of the world. He’d happily tell her about it and they enjoyed that time together. There were stolen glances and lingering touches, but at the end of the day they were professionals who were friends. It wasn’t maybe what either of them wanted, but they weren’t unhappy.
Harry just got back from Los Angeles after filming for his Ellen show appearance and he was set to play the Bowery Ballroom tomorrow in London. After this there was going to be a lot of downtime on Harry’s schedule because of the holidays. He had marked out almost a whole month of time off, at least from appearances. They still had to start planning tour outfits and finalize the outfits for the events after the break. Right now, all she was focused on was getting Harry into the beautiful yellow Gucci suit that was a twin of the Watermelon Sugar suit he had worn on Saturday Night Live. Harry said he wanted to check the suit before tomorrow for some reason, so Y/N had made her way over.
She finished buttoning the sleeves of the jacket and stepped back to admire Harry once again. No matter what he wore he always looked marvelous in her eyes. She’d argue anyone could say that about Harry though. He could pull anything off and make it his own with barely any effort.
Today, his hair was disheveled and mused from his plane ride back into London. The flight from California to England was a rough one, even when you traveled in the type of luxury Harry did. Despite his tired body and eyes, the suit looked stunning on him. He wore it without shoes and she giggled when she saw his feet. His feet tattoos never failed to make her laugh and she had no explanation for why.
While Harry looked good in everything, there actually was something a little off with the suit right now. Normally, it hugged him just right to make him look perfectly muscled and defined, but it seemed to be hanging a little looser in some areas.
She tapped a finger to her lip, looking him over, unsure of what was off.
“Did you lose weight, H?”
“Huh?” He looks down at himself and somewhat notices the looser fit, but wasn’t quite sure if he had lost weight. “Don’t think so.”
She hums and steps closer to him, dropping her hands to tug at various parts of the suit, trying to figure out whether she should take anything in or leave it be.
“It’s probably all the travel I’ve been doin’. Can be draining me more than I realize.” He ponders as she continues to work silently over the suit.
Her hands travel beneath the suit and encircle his waist, almost as if she’s hugging him, but not really. His stomach flexes at the contact, her chest pressed softly against his. She grips a bit of the shirt from the back and then unfolds herself from him to look at the mirror. The shirt is now taut against his sternum and pectorals under the coat. She tilts her head, silently asking him his opinion.
“I think it’s fine the way it is, honestly.”
“Okay,” she nods and releases her hold on the shirt, hand slithering out from beneath his coat. He exhales deeply through his nose. “Make sure you eat properly tonight.” She says before beginning to pack up her things, done for the day. Harry begins to undress himself.
She turns back to face him as he hands her the jacket and shirt, her eyes run over the length of his torso, both for the sake of checking on his health and for other purely selfish reasons. All the tattoos still remained where they always were when she saw him like this. It never got old, his beautiful body. He didn’t even need clothes to look good. She blinks back to reality when the fabric comes in contact with her hand.
“Make sure you treat yourself this holiday season, you deserve it, H. And it seems like any weight you ever gain is muscle anyways, so you don’t exactly have to worry around the sweets table.”
Harry laughs heartily as he slips on his long sleeve shirt he was wearing. Then he starts on the pants as she turns away again to hang up the top parts of the suit.
Finally, she adds when he hands her the suit pants, “Just don’t want you overworking yourself, seriously, H.”
He looks at her as he buttons up his baggy blue jeans. The outfit he wore was just the first clean things he had grabbed when he had gotten home. His green eyes turn serious after the mirthfilled last few moments.
He crosses to her side as she puts away the clothes in the garment bag. His hand lands softly on her shoulder and she turns to him at his touch. “I know. You’re so good to me, darling. Always making sure I’m taking care of myself…”
It’s quiet. The soft breeze in the London air outside barely whispers around the house. Harry’s voice was laced with love, even if it wasn’t his intention. His ‘thank you’ was piercing into her heart and his touch wasn’t helping her stay focused. Her breath caught in her throat when she felt Harry take a step closer to her, his head ducking slightly down to her level. Then, right on the edge of her left temple and her hairline, his soft lips pressed against her skin. They brushed against her for just a moment, lingering for the respectful amount of time. But all she wanted was anything but respectful. She wanted his lips pressed against hers, she wanted his hands in her hair, yanking her deeply into him. She wanted to scream when he pulled away, but she didn’t. She smiled warmly up at Harry and her eyelashes fluttered on their own accord like a schoolgirl with a crush.
“Thank you,” he whispers again.
“What would you do without me?” She pushes at him playfully, shaking off her giddiness. Then she turns back to her work, scooping up all the items of hers on the table.
“Probably have to walk around naked, huh?”
“Oh my god!” She laughs and starts for the door, Harry follows behind to walk to her out to her car. “Maybe I should quit! People would love it.” She continues laughing as she hangs the garment in the passenger's seat side.
“No thank you, please,” Harry hurriedly says.
She turns to him as she closes the door and leans against the car. This was their routine right before she left, a final chat against the car before she drove off for the night.
“Tomorrow’s going to be amazing, H. It’s gonna be electric!” She scrunches her nose slightly at the pun about the venue as she smiles up at him.
He sticks his tongue into the side of his cheek, holding back a laugh. His eyes narrow at her, slyly. “Very funny.”
She only winks at him before pushing herself off of her car and walks to the driver’s side of the car.
He waves as she begins to pull out of the driveway and she flashes him a peace sign and a mouthed ‘Bye’ when she turns onto the street.
-
After the Bowery Ballroom show, Y/N barely sees Harry at the after party. She doesn’t worry about it too much. His management was going to have a holiday party next week before the little break began for the team. So, she knew she’d see him before she flew back to see her family for the holidays. She was going home for two weeks and then would be back for New Year’s and then would get back to work after that.
She saw Harry exactly twice after the show. First, she saw Harry right after the show and he was all sweaty and exhilarated. He tackled her in a bear hug with such strength she would have fallen back if he hadn’t been holding her so tightly. When he pulled away, he placed two extremely slobbery kisses on her cheeks and she laughed, tipping her head back in pure bliss. Then he was pulled away by Jeff to change and get ready for the after party.
Jeff had apologized over text about the tone he had taken over the whole jacket thing, but only Harry had told him to. It was fine with Y/N, she told him that too, but she just never felt like being around him for very long if she could help it after that. That’s why she liked that most of her job entailed dealing with Harry directly. If she had to go through Jeff for everything she’d likely pull her hair out. He was still short with her at whole team meetings and not necessarily courteous when they were around each other casually. Like she said, it was fine, she just didn’t make it her business to be around Jeff.
The second time she saw Harry was around half past one am. She was pretty sure it was time for her to uber home and she wanted to say goodbye to Harry. Her well-liquored body stumbled around the big room. Deciding to take shots with the band had gotten her to where she was now and she wasn’t complaining she was happy. She was in a celebratory mood and wanted to see Harry right now. Tell him how much fun she had and how proud she was of him. How much she loved him… Hopefully she kept that part to herself.
“Harry!” She finally exclaims, coming upon a group of people surrounding the star himself. She ignored the rest of the people, likely stars too, but she really couldn’t care less. One of them tried to straighten up as if he was going to block her from Harry, feeling like she maybe wasn’t someone Harry wanted to see since they didn’t know her. No one seemed to ever recognize Y/N as Harry’s stylist when it mattered. Harry waved them off, a little drunk as well, but obviously recognizing Y/N.
“Darling!” He exclaims and raises his arms out to her. She grips onto him quickly and snuggles into him happily. With her still in his arms, he turns them from the prying eyes of the group he had been with.
She raises her head from his warm chest so that her lips are near his ear, “Congratulations, Mr. Styles.”
“Thanks, baby,” he purrs into her ear, his voice coarse and low, carrying over the music. She giggles at the nickname, her entire plan going out the metaphorical window.
Her fingers smooth up over the fabric on his chest, a nice short sleeve silk button down that was tucked into dark high waisted trousers - they’d picked it out last week. One of her fingers begins to trace around his collarbone after she reaches the opening of the shirt. His eyes flutter shut at the contact. They were so needy for each other. Each touch would coarse heat through them every time.
“I’m going…” She says after a moment of silence between them. The party was raging around them, most not paying any mind to the two of them off in their own world.
“Don’t go,” Harry practically begs. A hand flies up to pet over the top of her hair and she smiles even wider.
“It’s late and I’m tired,” she makes a face in response to Harry’s pout, “You have lots of people to entertain, Mr. Styles.” Her teeth capture her bottom lip as she stares at him intently.
He groans and pulls her closer. This time his lips brush right against her ear and she wants to shiver, but he keeps her in place. “If you keep calling me that, you’re gonna drive me insane.”
Her eyes widen but her hazy mind isn’t processing all of what is going on. She barely takes inventory of ‘baby’, for him to say she’s turning him on without actually saying it. Tomorrow Y/N would have to deal with that one.
She pulls back from him, creating space between their chests, but he still holds her waist close to him. She leans up and places a kiss on the corner of his lips. It’s technically supposed to be a kiss on the cheek but if she had moved her lips a millimeter to the right they would have been on Harry’s. This gesture has his grip tightening on her, but she pulls away.
“Goodnight!” She sings as she bounces out of sight, wiggling her fingers in a wave before completely being gone.
Harry sighs and runs a hand over his face, kind of in shock of the last five minutes. He had liked it. He just hadn’t expected it. When he turns his attention back to the group that was behind him, it’s not the same as it was before. Jeff looks at him with narrowed eyes and Harry’s eyes go wide and his grin widens as well.
-
Tonight is the management holiday party for Harry’s team. Y/N and Harry had seen each other two days after the Electric Ballroom to debrief, but mostly to get brunch. They didn’t talk about the little teases they shared at the after party. Both of them just assumed that the other probably didn’t remember and didn’t want to go through the trouble and embarrassment of recounting it. Alcohol has that effect of making you a little bolder than you actually are.
Brunch with Harry solidified Y/N’s thoughts on fame. Celebrity could be so strange, because there was the one day when she got photographed with just Harry’s jacket on and there was speculation of dating, but then she could go out to brunch with him and not be bothered at all. It made absolutely no sense.
Anyway, tonight there were no gifts, but Y/N had gotten Harry something even though he said he never needs anything. She hoped she’d be able to give it to him after they were walking back to their transportation since she wanted it to be a surprise and not have everyone know she gave him a gift. It wasn’t a big deal - or maybe it was - it was just an item she knew Harry had been fawning over. It was so him and she knew he’d probably end up buying it for himself eventually, but it felt nice to be able to give him something for once. Price didn’t matter. Still, she was a little nervous and tucked and re-tucked it several times in the back seat of her car before heading inside.
It was a restaurant his management had rented out for their party. She gave her name and headed inside. The lighting was overly dimmed and it smelled like expensive alcohol and delicious food. It was everything an A-list singer deserved as a celebration. She never could fully grasp that the Harry she had gotten to know as her friend was also the same Harry that the entire world was infatuated with, for good reason. He was charming in the best way, terribly sincere, insanely talented, and all around a good human being. She knew that, it just surprised her that everyone else knew it too. There was just that disconnect for her that she shared him with the rest of the world.
Her high heeled heels brought her to the backroom of the restaurant. They managed to shimmer even in the dim light. She had gone for winter chic with a sequin and mesh white dress, that looked like fresh snow with a cream and blue swirling design on the under layer so that her undergarments weren’t showing through. It was like a modern ice princess look that was finished with her heels that had sparkles on the entire back of them. Her hair was down and her makeup a little more done up than usual. She used a light blue eyeshadow to imitate ice and added some rhinestones on the inner parts of her eyes. She may have watched a Euphoria-inspired makeup look tutorial on youtube and she wasn’t afraid to admit that.
The scene she came upon was what she expected. Lots of men in suits and a good amount of women in power suits too. The people in any interesting clothes were Harry and his band. Some of the business people’s partners were dressed up more but it all wasn’t too exciting. Plus, Harry’s famous friends group hadn’t shown up yet. Y/N hid her disappointment easily, not surprised about the lack of flavor she saw in the style. She just repeated the mantra her mother had always told her: “You can never be overdressed, only underdressed.” It stuck with her always and made her go for those bolder styles when she needed to.
Harry was there, sipping on a glass of water. She figured he might not want to get started on drinking so early in the evening. Tonight didn’t feel like a drinking night for her either. After the last big party, she had woken up with a massive hangover and a few memories that she wished she hadn’t made. She wasn’t planning on repeating that series of events.
As she goes to grab a glass of water on the large table, she gets a tap on her shoulder. She spins.
“Happy Holidays, darling!”
Her eyes widen and her smile immediately grows. Harry grins back at her, his mouth open in the perfect winning smile of his and his eyes twinkling with happiness.
“Happy Holidays to you too, Mr.-” She stops herself, remembering back to the last party, “H.” She finishes firmly after clearing her throat. Harry’s grin turns to a wicked knowing smirk.
“I’m happy you came! I know you’re not super connected to all of the groups here, Harry Lambert is around somewhere though and I know he’s been wanting to talk with you about clothes.”
Harry watches as her eyes shine even brighter when he mentions the other stylist. It was true, Y/N didn’t really mesh with any of the groups that worked around Harry. The stylist kind of stood alone in regards to where she fit into his life, not the business part, not the band part, not the crew, and not the other celebrities. Harry Lambert and other fashion people didn’t always come to these events so it was seldom that Y/N had her own people to talk to. Not that mingling was hard for her, he just knew she didn’t like to do that as much so whenever another stylist or designer was there he always made sure to introduce them - if they weren’t already acquainted.
“That’s amazing! I haven’t seen him in ages… I’ll have to get his opinion on how I’ve been doing.”
Harry licks his lips as he laughs a little at her comment. She looked beautiful tonight and he wanted to tell her.
“Harry. What the hell are you wearing?” Her eyes flash as she takes in his appearance.
He looks down at himself and then back at her confused. They hadn’t picked the outfit out, but he thought it looked nice.
“Obviously not the suit! On your head?”
“Oh. It’s a gift from Mitch and Sarah.” He pauses to reach up to play with the headband sat on top of his curls. “It’s mistletoe and it seems like you’re standing beneath it. You know what that means,” he toys with it as he wiggles his eyebrows.
She scoffs sarcastically, looking to the side for a means of escape, “No way.”
“C’mon! It’s tradition!” He steps forward playfully and she places a hand on his chest.
“You can kiss my cheek.” She says finally and Harry looks at her disapprovingly.
He wags a finger at her with his free hand, “You’re the one under the mistletoe, you have to kiss me.”
“Okay that’s definitely not how this works! Now you don’t get any kiss at all, you cheeky bastard.”
“Fine. But don’t come crying to me when you’re the one with coal in your stocking.”
“Haha.” Her eyes once again roll to the side as she pushes him back and he steps back like she actually had a strong push. Then they both actually laugh and she gives him a quick side hug with a whispered, “there”. Harry smiles down at her, but it falters slightly when she’s already pulling away. He wanted her at his side the entire night, but sadly that wasn’t reality.
She drags him around the restaurant in search of Harry Lambert since the party had started to grow and she needed his height to get her where she wanted to go. Maybe. Or maybe she just liked the way he held her hand to lead her through the crowd that was most definitely not dense enough for her to have to hold on to him to stay with him at all.
She sees more of Harry at this party. They have some good conversations about plans for the holidays and snickering about who was already too drunk even though it wasn’t even midnight. She can’t believe he keeps on the stupid headband all night, giving and receiving various types of kisses from every person he talks to. Some are kisses on the cheek, others are friendly smooches on the mouth. Thankfully all of them are those cute little pecks that friends always tend to share, otherwise Y/N might have had to excuse herself and leave early. Jealous little thing.
As the night dragged on, she began to question herself on that front. Why was she growing jealous when friends would kiss Harry. She could've kissed Harry. She practically did the other week. But now, after refusing him a mistletoe kiss and seeing everyone else do what she didn’t have the courage to do, she felt childish. Well, childish or not, she knew why she couldn’t kiss him. Kissing Harry wouldn’t be just a friend thing for her. It would mean a lot more and if it was just a friend thing for him she wouldn’t be sure if she could handle going on with their working relationship after. Her job was the most important thing in her life. Being a stylist, loving clothes, and working on personal designs for the future was her life. Giving up this prestigious of a job was out of the question. Maybe the idea of being with Harry had crossed her mind, but she didn’t know how it could ever be realistic. If they got together could she keep her job? Would she have to quit? And find a new one? There were too many unknowns for her to ever actually entertain it. That’s why they went to the edge so often, she always would back away and she was sure that if she didn’t, Harry would for her.
He knew her. He knew her passion, he watches it firsthand everyday they work together. Even when they’re not working he can see her mind forming different ideas just based off of the things she sees people wear on the streets. He watches her fingers fiddle over her phone, typing out notes for design ideas and screenshotting inspiration. So every time they went to the edge of changing their relationship, he knew he couldn’t push it because he never wanted to hurt her or her dreams in some way. She was too important to him to simply mess that up. Even if it hurt him.
So when Harry slides in the back of her car that night at 2 am because Y/N says she has something important to show him, he’s fully ready to stop their flirting from going any further. And when she tells him she needs to show him something, she has the most pure intentions when she pulls out the nicely wrapped box, its wrapping paper a swirling lavender pattern that’s really not festive at all, but she prefers it.
He looks between her and the box that she’s now placed in his lap. His green eyes flickering even in the darkness of the car, the city lights illuminating the backseat enough for them.
“You know I don’t need anything…” He fiddles with the skinny mesh ribbon neatly tied around the box.
She makes a little gesture, pushing him to open the present, “I know, but I also know you’ve been wanting this and you deserve it.”
He unwraps the paper to reveal a Gucci box and he rolls his eyes at her, but smiles genuinely as he lifts the top of the box off. It reveals a 1955 Horsebit Shoulder Bag in beautiful shiny black leather. It’s gorgeous.
“I can’t...I don’t know what to say,” Harry’s eyes are huge as his delicate hands ghost over the bag's details. He had been wanting it and he hadn’t gotten the courage to buy it yet. He liked purses, but sometimes he even had his doubts about what he could pull off.
His eyes go back to her and she smiles widely at him, all her teeth on display because she’s just that happy. “This is a really expensive bag, Y/N.”
“If it makes you feel better I can charge it as a wardrobe expense, but then it’s not really a gift from me,” She sighs at his unrelenting gaze.
“Thank you.” He touches at the bag again and then does a dance in his spot. “And don’t worry, I will always remember this as a gift from you. I love it.”
She smiles and leans over the box to look at the bag, admiring the beauty of it as well. “It’s pretty great.”
“Mhmm,” Harry hums and she raises her eyes, seeing his trained on her face. “You’re under the mistletoe again, darling,” he smirks.
Her breath stops once again, how could he do that to her so easily? Their eyes stay locked under the city lights. The fake mistletoe bobs above them still connected to the silly headband. It’s colorful leaves and fun stripes mock her when she flicks her gaze up to it for a moment. Then back to Harry. Harry who’s holding the gift she just gave him. Harry who looks beautiful tonight. Harry who is her favorite person in the world to spend time with.
Now. Now is when she pulls back from the ledge. This is when she takes a step back and stops herself. When Harry laughs it off. When she pushes him away. When they go about the rest of their day like that electricity hadn’t gone up either of their spines.
But that’s not what happens. Instead, she nods in agreement and then crashes her lips against Harry’s. It’s not like those friend kisses that had happened with him all night under that same mistletoe. It’s hard and hot and fast. Her lips are pressed to his for one searing moment and then she’s biting his lip, desperate to taste more of him. She had been longing for this for so long and now that she had it, she couldn’t let it go.
Harry’s hands fly to her cheeks as he pulls her closer, more into his lap. He pushes the box into the front area of the car blindly. The gift was completely forgotten. This was a far more important matter. Her lips were wet and plush and they tasted like the single Manhattan she had halfway through the night and vanilla lip gloss. When she bites his lip, he can’t hold back the moan inside his throat and she presses her tongue into his mouth quickly. He was her oasis and she had been traveling for months. He responds with similar vigor, enjoying the way her body presses to his in the backseat of this little car.
They kiss for as long as they can. Licking, sucking, and biting each other’s lips to taste as much as they can. But it’s just kissing. Neither of them work to travel anywhere else. Their lips are seemingly enough. Each press of their lips communicates what they had been longing for. It’s euphoric.
When the windows start to fog and her eyes open for a random moment, she realizes they need to cool whatever this is.
“H-Harry,” She gulps for a breath of air and she tries to get his attention. “I gotta get home.”
“Come back to my place,” he mumbles into her collarbone, happily licking over his love bite.
She laughs and swallows slowly, “That is definitely out of the question, I have a flight tomorrow.”
He removes his mouth from her and straightens up. His lips are even brighter pink than usual and perfectly puffy. His hair disheveled from her hands. She blushes at the thought.
“Right, forgot about that,” he opens the car door and they both slide out. They stand at her car, just like they usually did outside his house. However this time is quite different from most.
They sigh heavily, in unison. The winter air is cold in London. She shivers slightly and knows she can’t stay in his presence much longer.
“Merry Christmas, H.”
He leans down and places one last sweet kiss to her lips. She wrinkles her nose and smiles unabashedly.
“Merry Christmas, Darling.”
-
Harry and her don’t talk as much while she’s back home for the holidays. There’s no work to be discussed and while they parted on not necessarily bad terms, there was definitely a conversation that needed to be had between the two. Neither seemed to want to have that conversation over the phone, or worse, text. So for the next week and a half, Harry and Y/N exchanged texts of funny memes that reminded them of each other and odd anecdotes from family members that had made them laugh. Nothing really substantial, just small, I was thinking of you messages.
When she walked out of the luggage carousel at London Heathrow Airport, she expected to be getting in the queue for an uber. Instead, before she could cross the street to get to the queue even, a tall man stopped her. A tall, scruffy, extremely buff, extremely handsome, and extremely kissable man. Harry. It would be terribly strange if it was anyone else.
“Excuse me, ma’am, do you need a lift back to your flat?” His dark sunglasses cover his face and a big coat, scarf, and hat make him hardly recognizable. The curls sticking out from beneath the cute knit scarf are thankfully a dead give away for her. As well as his perfect drawling voice.
She shivered in the cold, her matching grey sweatpants and Treat People With Kindness sweatshirt had been warm enough on the flight, but proved inadequate for almost January in London. Yet, Harry’s presence brings a smile to her face.
“It’s good to see you, H.”
He laughs, his cover obviously blown. His arms encircle her body and she instantly melts into his embrace. His large coat easily fell around her and warmed her. His own natural body heat adds to her new found warmth as well.
“You too,” he murmured. His head buries into the crook of her neck, warming her cold skin.
He pulls back after a rather long embrace, realizing they’re still out on the sidewalk. He takes one step back and she visibly deflates at his absence, the cold once again surrounding her.
“Let’s get you home,” he grabs at the handle of her suitcase in one hand and her hand in the other. The warmth returns and she grins, placated by his touch.
“So are you coming to my party tonight?” He inquires once he settles into the driver’s seat after putting her suitcase in the back.
She shifts in her seat, arms wrapped tightly around herself, still cold without any warmth from Harry or the car. “Don’t you suppose there was a reason why I chose to come home today?”
Harry’s ears perk at the use of home, never assuming Y/N viewed London as her home, still it made him smile.
As the car purrs to life, heat immediately seeping out of the seats and vents, Harry’s phone connects as well. NFWMB by Hozier begins to play softly and she glances at Harry again. The song was so sultry and soft, like expensive dark chocolate melting on your tongue. The mood in the car seemed to shift. Their eyes met, Harry’s green ones narrowing at her, trying to decipher the look she was giving to him.
Then he drove off, softly singing along to the words through the sleepy streets. It was surprisingly quiet out for the holidays, people choosing to lay low during the day so they could celebrate the changing of decades in full force tonight.
After the song ends, his eyes travel over to her again and she’s already looking at him. She had missed his face. Sure, he’d sent some silly selfies while she was gone. Mostly on Christmas Eve with his family when he had gotten drunk on mulled wine and eggnog and brandy. Still, in person, he was even more beautiful. The high cheek bones that glistened with a shine most makeup could only hope to produce. Full raspberry lips with stubble growing to frame above and below. The crinkles growing on his forehead and by his eyes that showed him aging with grace. The precious few moles that had gotten lucky enough to live on his face forever. His big green eyes that were consistently bright with interest and intellect, but deep and knowing despite his loving demeanor. She loved those big green eyes, they were just so big and she didn’t understand how no one took the same interest in them as her. All of it, just sitting there beside her. Don’t even get her started on the soul that inhabited the beautiful man beside her. She never would stop spiraling then.
“What?” He asks softly, the sounds of Paul McCartney during some era fading in.
She blinks, hazily in admirance, “Nothing,” she replies.
“What?” He insists, laughing slightly, the lips she loves so much widening in excitement.
“Just missed you.”
Her voice is quiet but strong, serious. A blush creeps up his neck, taking hold of his features.
“Missed you too,” his left hand reaches across the console to take hold of her hand that resided on her thigh. He squeezes her hand softly and they both smile at each other again.
“Don’t worry, I can get my stuff upstairs. I don’t want you being out in the cold any longer than you have to. I’ll see you tonight, H!” She pushes her body across the console and places a kiss on his cheek before jumping out of the car. Harry makes a half smile, knowing he can’t change her mind. He waves to her behind the window as she travels into her building.
“See you.” He says to himself before driving back to his home to finish up preparing for tonight’s festivities. The party was going to be more intimate than the Christmas party at the restaurant. Tonight was just Harry’s family and closest friend - the band, Jeff and his family, Y/N, and a few others.
-
The whole night Harry and Y/N are within a foot of each other, if not on top of each other. He never leaves her side nor does she his. They are tethered to one another. The longest they’re apart is when Harry gets them refills of Champagne and Y/N journeys to the restroom. They laugh and catch up.
As the night goes on, Harry begins to whisper sweet nothings in her ear and she giggles and places her hand on his chest flirtily. Their interaction is a dance, bedroom eyes and low voices, lingering touches and suggestive lip bites.
When the countdown begins to grow closer, everyone refills their drinks and gathers in the center of Harry’s living room. They cheer and countdown to 2020. And of course, Y/N’s by Harry’s side as he begins the count. And when they get to ‘one’ and everyone’s saying “Happy New Year”, Harry and her are sharing a chaste peck to the lips that electrifies everything they had been saying to each other all night. She sighs into his mouth, but pulls away quickly, aware of their surroundings. No one particularly questions the kiss, either not paying attention or caring. Harry beams down at her and they enjoy the rest of the evening.
At around 1 am, the last of the guests stumble out of Harry’s homes and into waiting ubers and safe rides. Y/N lingers back, beginning to clean the discarded glassware and paper plates. Her and Harry are definitely tipsy, but they enjoy the cleaning work, making terrible jokes about New Year’s and commenting on what people wore tonight. When it’s relatively cleaned in the kitchen, Y/N wanders out to the living room and finds Harry reclined back on the couch.
“H,” She sticks out her foot and nudges him with her boot.
“C’mere,” he reaches out his hand to her, his coat discarded, leaving his arms bare with only a white tank top on.
She takes his hand hesitantly and is yanked on top of Harry in an instant. With a loud huff, she settles above him. “That wasn’t nice.”
“Shush,” his pointer finger goes over her lips, her eyes narrow at him, “Can you believe we’re seeing 2020?”
“Oh my god! I hate you!” She rolls her eyes at his pun and shakes herself from his hand around her waist. She stands up to walk away but he easily grasps her wrist and stops her, easily sitting himself up on the couch.
He looks at her and her annoyance, that wasn’t all too strong in the first place, dissipates. She sighs, “I should probably be heading home.”
“You should stay, it’s so late,” his hand rubbing over the skin on her wrist.
She bites her lip, contemplating the offer, he was right. “I’m really tired and we haven’t really talked, H.”
“But we-”
“Not about us. We’ve been skirting around it, flirting with each other all night, but we haven’t talked about what’s going on. I can’t stay if you expect something from me.”
“I don’t expect anything from you, Y/N. That’s not why I want you to say,” Harry says earnestly, realizing quickly what she’s saying. “I’ve never expected anything from you. An offer to stay is just an offer to stay.”
“Okay,” she finally smiles and sits down beside Harry.
“You can sleep in the guest bedroom, too. If that makes you more comfortable?”
“Oh...I don’t know if we have to take it that far. Plus, you’re like a personal heater and I get cold at night.”
Harry perks up, he had been feeling resigned that maybe she wasn't on the same page as him. He wanted to be with her all the time but also didn’t want to put any pressure on her. She just made him so happy.
“Great! Let’s get to bed then.” He pops up from the couch and brings her into his arms, “You know where all my clothes are, so you can just borrow whatever you want, and then I’m sure I have extra toothbrushes…”
She giggles into his side as she watches him ramble animatedly. Sometimes he was oh so bright, so joyful and carefree. A stark contrast from the quiet confidence he often exhibited for the public.
-
She woke up in the warm embrace of Harry. His whole bed smelled like him, vanilla mixed with spices of tobacco and sandalwood. It was delicious and she snuggled in deeper to the soft chest she laid against, breathing in his scent deeply.
They rested there for a long time. Harry makes his awakening known with a lingering kiss to her forehead. They both sigh in contentment, radiant in each other’s arms.
“What’s the plan today?” She ponders as Harry’s fingers trace patterns over her skin. He hums in thought.
“Wanna be with you…”
She laughs and looks up at him, “Me too, but we can’t lay around all day.”
“Well, we could.” Harry insists.
She laughs again and twists in his arms, settling so she’s facing him. She bites her lip as she thinks about something, scanning his face over and over.
“I’m gonna go home and get ready for the day. Let’s just explore the city and do some 2020 shopping. Who knows, maybe fashion’s changed since the last decade,” she grins.
Harry chuckles a little and pets at her hair, “I like the sound of that. And we can talk - about us.”
“Mmhmm.”
He tilts his head forward and meets her lips once again, savoring her taste. Each kiss makes him want more. She was good.
-
Harry lugs in the four heavy shopping bags into her flat, as she carries the single small bag from the chocolatier he had dragged them into. He presses her to the counter when he sets down the bags and begins to kiss her face all over. She giggles and places her hands on his shoulders, giving him a kiss to the lips before pulling away.
They had talked about what they wanted, what they saw in each other and how that fit into their work relationship and the rest of their lives. Harry would have to talk to Jeff, but more so as a by the way this is what I’m doing with my life, not an ask for permission. Y/N would continue as his stylist until the end of the tour cycle, but afterwards she’d go back to freelancing. They wanted to try to date and be as normal as possible. She told him how she didn’t love the fame or the celebrities. Sure she dealt with those things for work, but when they were off duty, she wanted to be regular. She wanted to go out on dates and make dinner on weekend nights. Harry had agreed, he wanted those things too and he understood her wish to keep work and their relationship separate. However, he’d made her concede to allowing kisses during work hours. She had laughed and said it was an easy term to agree to.
It was going to be a good thing. They were both giddy with excitement, the new year, and all the new things they had bought on their relationship high.
“Oh!” She pushed Harry further away from her and hurried into her room. He laughed and looked confusedly after her. “Wait there!” She called. Harry leaned against the back of her upholstered chair.
“Close your eyes!” She says before coming back into the room. Harry’s hands go over his eyes easily as he grins blindly in her direction.
“‘M waiting…”
“Open.”
Harry’s hands slip away and his green eyes blink open. In front of him stands Y/N holding up a hand knit brown sweater vest with horizontal red, cream and blue thin stripes along with the thicker brown stripes. Harry beams, reaching his hands out to take hold of it.
“It was supposed to be a surprise for later, but I found it at this vintage place while I was home and I couldn’t wait any longer to show it to you.”
“Darling, this is gorgeous. I love it! But you shouldn’t have...”
“I thought you could wear it for Lizzo’s concert. I know you said you liked the other sweater vest, but this one is so-”
“You spoil me, seriously.” He cuts her off and laughs before pulling her back into him. Their lips collide in a searing kiss, Harry’s excitement over the new garment making him eager to show her how much he really loved it.
A small sigh escapes her lips as Harry presses into her. His tongue pushing into her mouth in a way that turns the sigh into a moan.
“Let me show you just how much I love it,” He murmurs against her lips, casting the garment onto the back of the chair he had previously been leaning on.
She smiles, eyes fluttering open and meeting his with adoration swelling in their depths. Then she allows him to back their intertwined bodies into her room.
-
Some apartment in New York a few months later:
“I knew it!”
“Huh?” Aidy lifts her head from the skit she was working on to look at her friend and coworker.
“That stylist...for Harry Styles,” Heidi shifts, sitting up and turning her phone to face Aidy, “She was seen out with him, getting lunch in London and then making out on a street corner. I bet they were dating back in November when he was on the show!”
Aidy laughs, thinking back to her conversation with the stylist that night of Harry’s show. The girl had been so in love that night and Harry had been smitten all week, describing her in the best way, praising her every decision, yearning for her even. And now they were actually together...she was happy for them.
“I don’t know about that...but they were head over Gucci heels for each other that’s for sure.”
Heidi and her scroll through the pictures on social media of the singer and his girlfriend.
“They probably are the best dressed couple I have ever seen,” Heidi grumbles.
“Now that is definitely accurate.”
--
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