#I swear to god if I go in there and see her placing chips one at a time on a plate or some shit

[jankwritten]

is it rational to be pissed off at someone for cooking food in the kitchen

(The answer is no. Yet pissed off I am.)

[hurtspideyparker]

Avengers Beach Day !

Tony is under a large beach umbrella, sat on a comfortable chair in bright red swim shorts and a flowy floral cover up. He has a large cooler with drinks, sandwiches and pickles. Also chips. Pepper is beside him reading a book about sustainability.

Natasha is in a simple black two piece swimsuit with large sunglasses, soaking in the sun.

"If anybody stares at my ass I will drown you and make sure your body never washes ashore," she warns as she lays out a towel and stretches out in the sun.

Peter and Thor are the first in the water, but only after Steve makes sure everyone has sunscreen on. "The water actually amplifies the harmful UV rays, so you should reapply in an hour. Don't worry, I'll remind you."

Peter and Clint tell Thor about chicken fighting, which delights him, and they are able to convince Steve to join so they can play. Peter sits on Thor's shoulders, and Clint on Steve's. It takes 4 rounds before Clint realizes Peter is cheating by sticking to Thor so he won't fall down. Peter and Thor switch places, but Thor still wins every time because well... muscles.

-

Bruce sets himself up on a blanket with a book but ends up falling asleep within twenty minutes. He sleeps for 2 hours and gets severely sunburnt.

-

Sam and Bucky sit down in two matching chairs a respectable distance apart, sunglasses on. Bucky is completely still for so long that Sam peeks over to see if he's asleep, his body casting a shadow over the soldier.

"Sam, I swear to god."

"Alright alright just checking, don't get your panties in a twist!"

-

Steve ends up floating around in the water peacefully, spread out like a starfish, while Clint and Peter show off their underwater handstand abilities to Thor. When Thor tries one for himself he ends up kicking Steve in the face. Peter and Clint can't stop laughing while Thor apologizes.

-

Natasha eventually joins the boys in the water, in which Clint begs her to play chicken with him because "all these guys are cheating super freaks!"

Natasha gets on Steve's shoulder and Clint on Thor's.

Natasha wins every round.

Clint grumpily complains about losing for the next half hour until he's distracted by food. (Tony makes fun of him for being such a loser on the ride home and Clint doesn't stop talking about how all his friends are freaks for the next 3 days).

-

Tony calls everyone in for some snacks and drinks, and Peter shakes his wet hair out all over Tony.

"Hey, hey! Watch where you shake that thing, I will hold your sandwich hostage!"

"You can't go to the beach and not get wet Mr. Stark, you're so spoiled. I barely talked you out of bringing that big ugly tent, it was practically a house."

"That's it. Thor, have another ham and cheese," he says as he tosses the sandwich to the god.

"No wait I take it back! Thor stop that's mine!"

-

Afterwards Peter finds a spot with damp sand to start building a castle.

"What are you, five?" Sam asks.

"Hey! I just found these old buckets on the shore and thought it would be fun."

"Mhm, keep telling yourself that boy scout."

"Like you could do any better!"

They stare at each other for a moment.

"Imma 'bout to whoop your ass so hard kid," Sam says as he snatches a bucket from Peter and gets to work a few feet away.

-

Bruce rolls over in his sleep like a gas station hot dog. His other side gets sunburnt.

-

"Kid, I'm ready for a swim. Kid?"

"Not now Mr. Stark, I'm in a sand castle building competition!"

Tony stares down at the teenager with his wild curls covered in sand, filling up a neon pink bucket.

"... move over. Where's your moat? You can't expect to win without a moat."

"The water just absorbs back into the ground," Peter says with a frown.

"Hm. We need insulation. Go back into the water and get stones and kelp. And driftwood for the drawbridge. How much time do we have? Can I get my tools?"

"Hey!" Sam yells, "you can't have help! And definitely no genius engineering toolkit."

"Fine, no tools. But I'm allowed Mr. Stark! Just get someone to help you too," Peter replies as he runs off into the water.

"Son of a- Barnes! Get your ass over here! We need to teach this spiderling some manners."

-

"You should reapply your sunscreen," Steve says while hovering near Natasha lying on her towel.

"Touch me and lose your hand."

-

"Tony, the sun's going to set soon, let's go for a nice walk down the beach."

"Not now Pepper, I gotta finish this brickwork," he says with his face millimeters from the sand as he chisels.

"I wanna go for a romantic walk with my partner. The sunset doesn't wait for anyone, even you Tony Stark."

"Mhm, sure after I finish this battlement."

Pepper huffs.

"Whatever, I'll just go with Natasha."

-

"BRUCE, YOU DIDN'T REAPPLY!"

"Wuh- ow, OW OW OW OW OW OW-"

-

"Okay, times up!" Peter announces.

Tony, Bucky, Peter and Sam all stand up. They step back, scrutinizing each other's work.

"Well obviously ours is better. We have a functional drawbridge," Tony is the first to point out.

"You guys are such freaking nerds. Ours is prettier, and taller. Buck found these beautiful baby conch shells," Sam points out.

"We need judges. Thor!" Peter calls out.

-

"Let's stop here for a second, I need to buy some aloe vera," Natasha points out as she and Pepper pass by a small street of local shops near the beach front.

"Oh, are you feeling burned?"

"No it's for Bruce."

"Now that I think about it, I haven't seen him much today."

Natasha keeps her smirk to herself, purchasing the soothing lotion before heading back out to the street.

"Maybe on our way home we can get some ice cream," Natasha says as she points out the shop. "Bet Cap would like some butter pecan."

Pepper giggles.

-

"Ah, finally, Nat! We need a third judge for our sandcastle competition," Sam waves her over as she and Pepper rejoin the group.

"You have Bruce, Thor, and Steve, what do you need me for?"

"Steve is corrupted!" Peter chimes in.

"He's a partisan of the veteran best friends party. For all we know Bucky used his secret Cap knowledge to rig their castle to the ice pop's liking," Tony explains.

Peter sets his glare onto the man in question, "bet you just go crazy for conch, don't you Steve."

"I'd really rather not be apart of this conversation," Steve tells them.

Bucky turns to the women. "Thor voted for us, and Bruce voted for them. You're the tie-breaker Nat."

Natasha hands the bottle of lotion to Bruce who thanks her sheepishly as she steps up to the castles. She circles them slowly, ducking her head and taking in every crevice.

"Functional?" she asks, pointing at the drawbridge.

"Yes ma'am," Tony smirks.

She steps up to the opposing castle.

"You buy these?" she points to the sea shells adorning the castle.

Bucky lifts his chin, "nope, swam for em. All the work was my own, just short of evicting the previous tennants."

Natasha nods before stepping back.

"I've made my decision. The winner..." they all hold their breath, even Pepper and Steve who have no stakes in the the competition.

"Is Tony and Peter."

Cheers errupt, along with the very loud complaining of the two losers.

"Oh come on man! Ours is bigger, and prettier!" Sam protests.

"Oh really Sam? Is size all that matters? Stark's is functional. I don't know about you but I like a little personality beneath the pretty pretty decorations."

Peter pumps his fists in the air with a "woohoo!" before launching himself at Natasha in tight hug.

"I knew I liked you," Tony interjects as he joins the pair's hug, placing a kiss on both Natasha and Peter's temple.

Bucky rolls his eyes at the gesture and hides an affectionate smile.

"Yeah yeah," Natasha chimes, "let's get out of here so you can buy us ice cream."

-

"What are you gonna go for Rogers? Butter pecan?"

Natasha and Pepper snicker at Tony's comment as they collect their own ice creams from the worker; a chocolate peanut butter cone and a raspberry and lemon sorbet respectively.

"Tony..."

"No, no, I got this. Butterscotch? Rum raisin? Pistachio?"

"I'll have you know my taste buds are very modern. Peter showed me this Thai place and now I'm a regular."

"I'll believe it when I see it," Tony says while grabbing his coffee ice cream.

-

"Kid you're making it too easy. You are genuinely a freaking toddler," Sam says when he spots Peter licking a bubblegum ice cream cone.

"If having a personality is childish then it's no wonder you got cookies and cream, ahembasicbitch." Peter coughs the insult out.

"How dare you, you overgrown Little Tikes ad-"

-

Bucky licks his mint chocolate chip ice cream contentedly in the back of the shop while he watches the others fight.

"What do you think they're on about now?" Clint asks from his left.

Bucky glances at the bubblegum cone in the archer's hand.

"No clue."

-

"AHAHHHAAH"

"What! Vanilla is the best flavour!" Steve tries to argue, although Tony's own laughter rings louder than all other conversation in the room.

"M-modern taste buds AH haha-"

-

Bruce watches with awe and slight concern as Thor happily licks his 3 scoop tall rocky road contentedly.

"You hungry man?"

"Aye, I do enjoy the mallow."

Bruce watches the tower lean in every direction, almost falling several times and looking more dismal with every lick.

He almost says something, but Thor always angles the cone perfectly just in time to save it. Instead, he watches silently while scooping a spoonful of cookie dough from his cup.

-

It seems they got the rest of their bickering out at the shop, as with tired and heat-soaked limbs they pile onto the jet for the ride home.

Tony looks back like a mom driving a mini-van.

"The baby's asleep," he smirks at Pepper who looks back at Peter.

The teenager is dead asleep, mouth wide open and head resting on Natasha's shoulder. She glares when she catches Tony's eyes on the pair and he looks away, glancing at the other passengers.

"I could've sworn Bruce's whole schtick was green. Is he rebranding to red?"

Steve looks over at Tony with a shameful pout, "he forgot to reapply."

Tony quirks an eyebrow but doesn't comment, settling back to cuddle with Pepper.

"Mission success," he whispers into her hairline with a soft kiss.

[thelonelyempath]

Pregnancy Prompts

1. "Your boobs got bigger. What? I'm your boyfriend/husband. I'm allowed to stare at them."

2. "Well I peed on the stick and it told me I'm pregnant..."

3. "I hear so many women talk about pregnancy glow. I'm not glowing at all! I feel ugly and gross!"

4. "Yeah the dick was great, but was it really that worth it?"

5. "You've been doing nothing but throwing up and eating ice chips. Are you sure you're feeling okay?"

6. "I can't remember the last time I was able to see my feet."

7. "Nothing in that closet fits me anymore!"

8. "I farted and it smelled like a mix of pickles and rotten eggs. Miracle of life, am I right?"

9. "I'm just scared I'm gonna make a bad mom/dad."

10. "You did say you wore a condom, right?"

11. "This little one's gonna have lots of aunties and uncles."

12. "If it's a boy, we should name him ____. If it's a girl, we should name her ____."

13. "So you're a little heavier than you were six months ago. Who cares? I still love you."

14. "I cannot be pregnant. I don't know how to interact with kids. I don't even know how to change a diaper!"

15. "Every single time I think I'm excited to have a baby, my brain, without fail, remembers things like blowouts and peeing a little every time you sneeze exist."

16. "This idiot showed up to my baby shower with a bottle of wine as a gift for me."

17. "I swear to god it feels like the baby is using my bladder as a stress ball."

18. "My boobs hurt, I can't stop crying, I'm horny all the time, and I'm sweating in places I didn't even know had sweat glands!"

19. "I guess we can say goodbye to restful sleep for a little bit."

20. "Was that a kick? It felt like a kick!"

21. "I can't tell if my water broke or I just peed myself."

22. "I'll be happy with a boy or a girl, just as long as it vaguely resembles me."

23. "Relax, you'll be a great mom/dad."

24. "Does this mean we have to get married?"

25. "I'm curious about the whole having-sex-to-try-and-induce-labor thing."

26. "Look at me. You're gonna be okay."

27. "I'm pretty much a good sneeze away from going into labor."

28. "These stretch marks are ugly."

29. "The baby likes when you sing to him/her."

30. "Any Junior name is off-limits."

[imaginespazzi]

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

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.”

[ghouljams]

Aphrodite!reader bringing Hephaestus!Nikto little scraps of metal or full on weapons/armor pieces she liked the metal that it used or thought he would find interesting to forge with.

Aphrodite!Reader asking Nikto if he would ever tell her what he was doing with specific steps in his forging because she just wants to hear his voice

Nikto building a different seat for reader to rest in but still having her little stool available for when she wants to come closer. Not that he understands why.

Reader bringing a drink or pitcher of some cold beverage for Nikto and him also being confused again as to why she’s doing these things. Obviously she’s sharing because she would feel bad if she didn’t and not because she knows that said beverage is his favorite or one that he enjoys.

you’ve definitely won me over (expected) (once again) (as usual) with this au. i am appreciative.

Someone on one of my posts about them mentioned it was fitting for the "god of passion to marry the god of invention." And it made me remember that quote that's like "I loved her to the point of invention" and yeah, good stuff.

It's not like you don't have things to do. You are a god, after all, you have duties to attend to, people to bless and all that. You have battlefields to walk through, soldiers that swear on their love's life, that beg to see them one more time, that take the rage of loss and channel it into power. You have weddings and births, deaths and funerals, first steps, reunions, first and last loves to look over. You have artists to watch, to stare entranced as they paint their muse, their passion seeping into every brushstroke, every strike of their hammed.

You pluck iron shavings off the floor and hum to yourself as you go. You pull arrowheads from broken ribcages. First teeth fall into your hands. Hair from a pet gone too soon. Lace from a wedding dress, notes off pages of music, stone chunks, paint chips, love letters half finished. You collect it all and shuffle through it as you sit outside your husband's forge. You don't have your stool out here, so you content yourself with standing. You shift your weight onto your other foot when one starts to ache.

You think he would like the nails, the arrowhead, the iron shavings, things he can melt down. He has better metal you're sure, but you don't know what to give your husband when you hardly know him. Does he even like his work? Is the forge something he's relegated to and not something he's passionate about. You love Love, you're the god of it, you find passion exhilarating, inspiring, transmogrifying. Nikto must feel the same about his work.

It's well into the night by the time the forge door swings open, your husband running a scarred hand through matted hair, tugging his mask off to reveal a crisp line of soot across his nose and cheeks. The black mark is matched only by the cacophony of white lines that strike like lightning over his skin, pulling his lips into a snarl and puckering his cheek. He freezes when he sees you. His eye twitches.

There's a large part of you that feels silly offering up your treasures. There's a small part of you that stares wide eyed at your husband, at the spectacular carnage that cuts his handsome features, and wishes he didn't slip his mask back on. So you offer him your metals, your scraps of love with nowhere to go.

"This is trash," He tells you, his voice muffled and distorted by the cylinders on either side of his mask, as he hands you a jewel, "we don't want it."

He turns, with your offering, and shuts the door to the forge behind him again. You can hear the heavy *thunk* of the lock sliding back into place.

Your bed is cold.

[hysteria-things]

reader making nate jealous and him putting her in her place😵‍💫

"YOU JEALOUS?"

𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: dom!nate x reader

𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: your boyfriend nate isn’t fond of the gesture you’re doing for your work friend.

𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: SMUTTY SMUT, swearing, slight arguing, possessiveness, jealousy, spanking if you squint, p in v, unprotected sex (don’t be stupid!), marking, choking, stomach bulge, overstimulation, hair pulling, edging, dacryphilia, a little degradation, cream pie, ROUGHHH

𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 1,171

𝐚𝐮𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐫'𝐬 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞: ALL THAT NATE TALK LAST NIGHT >>>>

so, ask for a nate fic… get a nate fic!

the aroma of chocolate chip cookies makes the kitchen smell delicious.

smiling widely, you watch through the window of the oven at the dessert, the ticking of the timer getting you even more excited.

after five or six more ticks later, the timer goes off. you clap, grabbing an oven mit and opening the oven. you carefully grab onto the pan and place it on the stove to cool.

you wipe your hands on the pink fabric of your apron. moments later, the front door clicks open.

nate’s been out with the triplets all day, but he always finds time to see you as much as he can. “smells good.” he exclaims, taking his jacket off and putting it on the hook.

“i made cookies,” you say as he walks into the kitchen and kisses you on the cheek. he rubs his hands together, going to grab one before you swat his hand away. “they aren’t for you.”

he blinks, standing there for a beat before speaking. “then who are they for?”

“you know that guy i work with?”

he snarls. you tell nate everything about work and one of your coworkers is always brought up in the conversation. “yes.” he says coldly.

“well, it’s his birthday tomorrow and the team is throwing a party for him. i thought i’d contribute and make some cookies as a gift.” your boyfriend stands there with his arms crossed, not looking very happy. “what?”

“is this the same dude that eye-fucks and flirts with you every chance he gets?”

rolling your eyes, you place a hand on your hip. then, you smirk. “you jealous?”

“no.” he lies, but you can see right through him. he’s not fond of your idea of a gift.

sighing sympathetically, you untie your apron slowly to take it off. “okay. then i’ll just pack these up and give them to—”

in the blink of an eye, you are now dangling over his shoulder. despite him being shorter than the average male, he’s still strong. a hand makes contact with your ass a few times while he goes up the stairs to where your bedroom is.

he throws you on the bed, wasting no time to unbuckle his pants and remove his shirt. “you think you’re so damn funny.”

a hiss comes from your lips when he rips off your panties and throws them on the floor. he licks his lips when he realizes how wet this is making you. “does my girl like to be thrown around?” he asks, pulling down his boxers.

you pout, moving your head to the side before you gasp when a hand wraps around your neck. “did you hear that? my girl. not his.”

you pout again, moving your hands down to his dick, desperately wanting him inside you. before you can reach it, he takes the hand that’s not on your neck and pins yours above your head.

he chuckles. “i’m not even fucking you yet and you’re already speechless.”

your breath hitches once you feel his tip move up and down on your slit, but he keeps it that way. you start to squirm beneath him, his grip tightening on both your throat and hands which causes you to stop.

humming, he leans to suck marks onto the top of your breasts, before moving down and sucking at the spot you’re most sensitive. on top of that, he’s still teasing your entrance, and this alone can make you cum.

god, you feel useless.

“i think… i’m—”

“no,” he says harshly, leaving one final hickey on your tit. he hovers his face over yours, noses touching and lips only centimeters apart.

his hips start to thrust into you, your face contorting into different looks of pleasure, and he makes sure to watch it all happen.

the way he snaps harshly into your pelvis has you moan loudly. thank goodness your parents aren’t home.

“faster,” you whisper, nate listening and going quicker, causing him to hit deeper than before. your legs spread wider, whimpers and squeals exiting your mouth with each thrust.

that’s when your eyes start to roll back, but he doesn’t like that. “look at me.” he demands, releasing pressure on your throat when you listen.

finally, he releases his hand and moves it to your stomach, pressing down on the bulge that’s protruding.

the sudden pressure makes you twitch and moan. “feel how deep i am in this sweet cunt? might have to fill it.”

you nod pathetically, making sure to not look away from his eyes, the blue in them darkening the more he ruts into you.

the way both of your bodies rock have the headboard banging loudly on the wall. your eyes start to water, and that makes him even more turned on.

you clench repeatedly around him, silently saying that you’re close. instead, he lets go of your hands and pulls out, flipping you over on your stomach.

pulling your hips toward him, he rails into you like before. if not faster. “nathan! o-oh, nate. ho-holy shit!” you yelp out, grasping for dear life onto the comforter.

he forms a makeshift ponytail with your hair, pulling your head up. “sorry, who? i couldn’t hear you.”

a sob of pleasure loud and clear rolls past your lips, the air in your lungs getting knocked out of you. “n-nate.” you whimper embarrassingly.

“that’s right.” he says, letting your head plop back onto the mattress. “i’m the only one who can fuck you this good. do you understand?”

you sob once more, the pleasure hurting but feeling amazing at the same time. your poor clit is puffy and red, so badly wanting a release. “yes, fuck.” you drag out both words, eyes crossing and mouth hanging open with no sounds coming out. drool drips down from your chin to your neck.

your brain is turned off, specks of white flooding your vision. tears stream down your cheeks. trying to get out of his grip, he notices instantly and holds your hips down to arch further.

and he found a new spot.

you bite down on a pillow, muffling your screams of pleasure. “too late to run from it now, baby. you’re going to keep taking my cock like the pretty slut i know.”

the way you squeeze around him tight has his dick twitching, the thought of filling you with his cum making him closer to his high.

you’re so brain-dead. you can’t think about what’s happening anymore, but it has your toes curling.

“going to stuff this perfect pussy with my cum. how does that sound?”

you moan incoherently, feeling nate stop behind you and pump ropes of cum into your tight hole. “see? look at that.”

he watches as you swallow his release, before pulling out causing some of it to spurt out and onto the sheets.

it takes you a bit to come back to your senses, but you realize something; although you could see the punishment coming from a mile away.

nate never let you finish.

𝐭𝐚𝐠 𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭!

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[chukys-mouthguard]

for the prompt request #4 “I know I said you could call me anytime, but… It’s the middle of the night” with quinn hughes and a little bit of angst a lil bit of fluff 😁

thank you so much for this request, i love a little angsty/fluff with Quinn 🫶🏼 hope you like this!!

note: i literally never know how to end these and like i know they are meant to be quick little blurbs and nothing crazy but my brain starts going and i wanna end up writing so much 🫠 so sorry if my endings suck sometimes

“I’m gonna kill her…” 

Quinn groaned as he heard your ringtone coming from his phone, that he could’ve sworn he’d put on silent. Pulling it from his side table he grumpily answered, “y/n, i swear to god. I know I said you could call me anytime, but…it’s the middle of the night.” 

“Quintin Hughes, don’t be mad at me, please?” 

Immediately he knew you were drunk by the tone of his voice, and you only ever called him Quintin after one too many vodka lemonades.

“Send me the address, I’ll come and get you.” 

Rolling his eyes he hung up the phone, tossing back the covers before throwing on a hoodie and shoes to come pick you up. 

You knew Quinn was mad the second you sat down in passenger seat. His jaw clenched as he didn’t even look at you, eyes on the road waiting for the sound of the door closing and the click of your seatbelt signaling for him to drive. 

Once back to his place you slowly trailed behind him, Quinn still not saying a word as he disappeared into the kitchen, you heading to his room only to find he’d laid out a tshirt and some shorts for you already. Despite his silence and angered essence in the car, you knew it wasn’t directed at you. At least, not entirely. Quinn had been down since the Canucks playoff exit and his sleep schedule had been a mess. So a late night drunk call after he’d finally fallen asleep at a decent time was not something he was thrilled about. 

Quinn soon appeared in the doorway of the bathroom as you were taking off your makeup. A water bottle and some chips in hand. “I thought you might want these?” 

His voice soft, laced with exhaustion as you could see on his face just how tired he was. 

“Thank you…and I’m sorry.” 

He shrugged, crossing his arms as he leaned against the doors frame. Watching you finish up in the bathroom, the two of you making your way to his room and finding your places on his bed. 

“It’s my fault…I didn’t put my phone on silent. Or do not disturb. So I did it to myself.” 

Quinn slightly chuckling as he rested his head against the wall, eyes closing as you broke open the water and chips. “Well, I should’ve been more cognizant of the fact that it was so late. I could’ve called someone else.” 

He glanced at you with a smirk on his face. “We all know I’m the person you will always call. Drunk y/n loves calling Quintin Hughes to save the day.” Mocking your tone in which you call his name when you’re intoxicated, Quinn laughs while you just blush. 

“I can’t help it when you always have water and chips ready to go for me! And it’s the variety pack of chips so it’s always a surprise!” 

Quinn shook his head, the funny thing being is that you didn’t make that comment because you were drunk. You were just that much of a good to genuinely enjoy that he kept a variety pack of chips at his place. 

“Well, look,” setting the now empty bag of chips on one of his bedside tables you moved to sit more in front of him as you spoke. “I will try and not make these drunk calls a frequent thing. Especially with you’re sleep schedule being a mess right now. I’ll try and be more aware. I’m sorry.” 

“Y/n, it’s not that big of a deal. I don’t mind taking care of your drunk ass. But maybe just give me a heads up next time if you’re going out, so I’m at least aware that I might be on call.” 

“Oh my gosh, should we get pagers? Like doctors used to have back in the day? And I could page you when I need you?” 

Reaching behind him, Quinn grabbed a pillow, playfully smacking it across your face. “You’re done, take your drunk ass to bed right now.” 

Quinn placing the pillow back behind his head as he rolled over, pulling the covers over him. “Fucking pagers…you are something else y/n.” 

He chuckled into the pillow as you couldn’t control your drunken laughter. “Well, just kidding we can scrap that idea.”

“Why?” 

Quinn asked as he was trying to calm his laughter. “I don’t think they make pagers anymore. Google says they mostly use phones nowadays. So it looks like your stuck getting calls from my Quintin!” 

Rolling over you wrapped an arm around him, pulling him close to you as he groaned, “Not unless I block your number.”

“You wouldn’t dare!”

Quinn laughed at your offended tone, “trust me, Jack drunk called me like crazy once he turned 21 and he got his number blocked for a few weeks. Don’t try me y/n. And if you want to keep your endless supply of water and variety bag chips, I suggest you trust me.” 

“Aye aye captain!” 

Playfully saluting to him he just covered his face with a pillow as he laughed at you before rolling over. 

Smiling to himself he’d finally calmed down from all the laughter, drifting off to sleep. The fastest he’d been able to sleep in weeks, thanks to having you by his side. 

[corruptedcaps]

Maid for it

“Another day, another mess.” Issy muttered, pushing the door open and stepping into the dim, stale air of the nightclub. Sammy followed close behind, tying her graying hair into a loose bun.

“I don’t know how they do it.” Sammy said, squinting at the leftover chaos. Empty glasses, glittering confetti, and half-crushed cans scattered across the sleek floors. “Every weekend, they come in here acting like they own the place. No respect for anything but themselves.”

Issy snorted, picking up a crumpled cocktail napkin. “The youth of today. They think the world revolves around them. Everything’s a selfie, a status update.”

“Right? Did you see that girl last week when we were on the night shift, the one in the sparkly dress? Spent more time filming herself than dancing.” Sammy shook her head, grabbing the mop.

“Remember when we used to go out? Actually had fun without needing an audience.” Issy said grabbing a trash bag.

Sammy smiled. “Good times, Issy. Good times.”

Issy looked around the club, hands on her hips. “So, where should we start?”

Sammy, already eyeing the far end of the room, groaned. “We should flip for the bathrooms. You know they’re always the worst. I swear, they must turn into animals in there after midnight.”

Issy pulled a coin from her pocket, holding it up with a smirk. “Heads, you do the bathrooms. Tails, I’ll take the hit.”

Issy flicked the coin into the air. It spun, catching the dim light, before landing in her palm. She peeked and grimaced. “Tails. Dammit.”

Sammy chuckled. “Good luck in there. I’ll take the bar.”

With a sigh, Issy grabbed her cleaning supplies and headed toward the bathrooms. The door to the ladies’ restroom creaked open, revealing the usual chaos. Loose makeup smeared across the countertops, lipsticks rolling about, and a few forgotten articles of clothing thrown haphazardly on the floor.

“Same old, same old.” She muttered, shaking her head. As she wiped down the counter, something caught her eye. There, lying next to an abandoned sequined purse, was a black wig.

Issy barely had time to blink before the black wig sprang to life, leaping from her hands and onto her face. “What the hell—!” She gasped, stumbling backward as it crawled across her skin like a living thing.

The wig slithered up her cheeks and over her eyes, settling firmly on top of her head. She reached up to tear it off, but just as her fingers touched the strands, a sharp, sudden pain pierced her scalp, like dozens of tiny needles burrowing in.

“Ow!” Issy yelped, frantically tugging at the wig, but it was on tight, as if fused to her head. Her hands shook, and as the seconds passed, a strange warmth spread through her body. Subtle at first but soon, it grew into an intense heat, like something was shifting beneath her skin.

She stumbled toward the mirror and froze. Her wrinkled skin, the creases she had grown accustomed to over the years, began to smooth out. The sagging around her chin and eyes lifted, disappearing before her eyes. Her body shrank, her waist narrowing, her arms slimming.

Her breath caught in her throat. “What... what’s happening to me?” She whispered, her voice sounding younger, sharper.

Issy stood frozen in front of the mirror as the transformation continued. Her chest began to swell, her old bra straining as her tits grew larger, fuller, and perkier. The sight made her gasp, her hands instinctively moving to her chest, feeling the unfamiliar weight.

“Oh my god.” She groaned as her hands grasped her new sensitive boobs.

Her lips plumped next, slowly puffing out until they were full and glossy, as if she'd just had an expensive treatment. Her fingers twitched as her nails elongated into perfectly manicured, polished claws, no longer the brittle, chipped things she had grown used to. Every detail, every change, unfolded right before her eyes in the bathroom mirror.

At first, her mind raced in panic. “This isn’t right! What’s happening to me?” She could barely recognize herself. Her body was no longer that of a middle-aged woman, but something else entirely. A younger version of herself, but not even that. This version of her was more idealized, almost like one of the women she’d see strutting around the nightclub, basking in attention.

“This... feels kind of... good.” She murmured, a smile creeping across her face.

Issy’s smile widened into a full, self-satisfied smirk as she admired her reflection. She couldn’t stop staring and why would she? She was perfect. Her body was flawless, every curve exactly where it should be, her skin glowing like it had been airbrushed. Her lips curled as she traced a finger along her jawline.

“God, I’m gorgeous.” She purred, the words tasting sweet on her tongue. She tilted her head, catching the light just right, and let out a soft laugh. “No wonder those girls spend all night taking photos. If I looked like this every day, I’d never stop looking at myself.”

Her eyes gleamed as she adjusted her stance, taking on a more bratty posture. “How could anyone not be obsessed with me?” She purred, running her hands over her hips, admiring the perfect hourglass figure staring back at her. She turned, posing, admiring herself from every angle.

Now, she felt invincible, untouchable. No one could match her. Not even the sluts she cleaned up after. “I’m better than them. Better than everyone.”

Issy’s breath caught in her throat as the words echoed in her mind. “Better than everyone.” She repeated slower, taking in the gravity of the statement, the condescension of the words. She blinked, suddenly horrified by the vanity consuming her.

“What am I saying?” She whispered, shaking her head as if to clear her thoughts. This wasn’t her. She wasn’t like those girls, shallow and self-absorbed. She was… a good person, wasn’t she?

“No!” She muttered, forcing herself to look away from the mirror. Her hands shot up to her head, fingers gripping the wig. She tugged, trying to pull it off, but it wouldn’t budge. Instead, a tingling sensation crept across her skin as the hair started to defend itself by hitting her with more changes.

Her maid’s uniform tightened around her body, the fabric hugging every new curve as it shrank higher and higher, separating at the middle. The bottom part morphed into a slick, black leather skirt, clinging to her like a second skin.

The top part relaxed and in fact became bigger, becoming a luxurious and decadent, fur coat draping over her shoulders. Her sensible work bra followed in her new skirts footsteps by turning into a tight leather tube top.

Issy’s hands dropped from her head and ran over the leather, feeling the smooth texture, her fingers grazing the fur. “It’s perfect.” She said, her bratty tone returning and a smirk creeping back onto her face despite herself. She twirled, watching the coat flare out.

She looked better than any girl she had seen walk in or out of that club and the feeling was intoxicating. She knew could any wan eating out of the palm of her hand with just a look. As a maid she was invisible, but looking the way she did now who could ignore her?

And yet there was still a voice in the back of her head urging her, begging her to rip the hair off. The hair was giving her a body to die for but it was also making her more conceited and vain.

“No! This isn’t right! Ohhhh fuck but it feels sooo good! No I have to end it before it’s too late.@ she groaned.

Using what resistance she still had in her, she reached up and grabbed the hair in her hands. Her pretty nailed fingers wrapping around as many strands as possible. With one big tug she hoped it could at least come a little loose but the hair had one last card to play.

All at once Issy felt a surge of heat flow to her pussy and she felt it tighten to an extreme she didn’t know was possible. The very act was making her cum like never before, her eyes rolling into the back of her head.

“Ohhhhh goddddd yessss!” She moaned loudly. Images of hot guys railing her in the very bathroom she was in filled her mind and made her cum again. She pictures herself strutting through the club like it was a buffet, choosing any man she wanted. She would be the best sec they ever had and she would make sure they spoilt her as rotten as her soul.

“Why fight it?” The thought slithered into her mind like an invader she couldn’t argue with. “I deserve this.”

Issy’s eyes rolled back to normal but there was a change instantly in them. They were no longer soft and caring eyes, instead they sparkled with spoilt narcissism. She stared at her reflection, the smirk growing wider, her eyes gleaming with pride. “Of course I fucking deserve this.” She said, the words slipping out effortlessly. She felt a surge of power, a thrill that coursed through her veins.

“I’m never going back to being some fucking loser maid again.” She declared, her voice full of conviction. The memory of her old self, ordinary and invisible, was pathetic. She sneered at the thought.

The bathroom door creaked open, and Sammy’s voice echoed off the tiles. “Issy, are you ok in here? I heard a moan of pain.” She called, her tone impatient. But as she stepped inside, she froze, her eyes going wide. “What the hell…?”

Standing in front of the mirror was a woman Sammy barely recognized. Issy, or at least what was left of her, turned slowly with a bored expression. “Relax loser, haven't you ever seen perfection before. Of course you haven’t just look at you.” She drawled, rolling her eyes.

Sammy’s jaw dropped as Issy picked up a glittering sequin bag from the counter. Unzipping it, she pulled out a thick wad of cash, a grin spreading across her face. “Look at this, my day just keeps getting better.” Issy purred.

Sammy stepped forward, her voice shaking. “Issy I don't know what happened to you, but you can't keep that cash and we need to get you help to reverse whatever the hell happened to you!”

Issy scoffed, flipping through the cash. She playfully put it up to her face like it was a telephone. “Hello police? Yes my friend put on a sexy black wig and turned in to the hottest bitch I've ever seen. Get real loser, even if there was a way to reverse this why the fuck would I want to go back to that pathetic loser I was?”

Sammy grabbed her by the arm. “Because this isn't you, Issy.”

Issy yanked her arm free, her eyes flashing. “You're right, I'm not Issy anymore. That weak, invisible woman is dead. I’m Bella now. And Bella gets everything she wants.”

Sammy’s heart raced as she backed away, her eyes darting between Bella and the door. “I’m going to find help. We’ll figure out how to take that wig off, Issy, I swear.” she said, her voice firm but shaking.

Just as Sammy reached for the door, Bella moved with lightning speed, slamming it shut with a loud bang. Sammy froze, staring at her in disbelief. “What are you doing?” She asked, fear creeping into her voice.

Bella leaned in, her eyes gleaming with a dark, twisted delight. “I can’t have anyone knowing about my wonderfully evil hair now can I? So, you’re just going to have to join me… Samantha.” She said slowly, her voice dripping with malice.

Sammy flinched at the sound of her full name, her body tensing as Bella ran her hands through her long luxurious hair, pulling thick chunks from her head that seemed to instantly regenerate. Without effort she twisted the clumps it into a sleek ponytail. Before Sammy could react, Bella flung it at her.

“No!” Sammy shrieked, trying to duck away, but the hair came to life midair, writhing and twisting like a serpent. It latched onto her arm, tightening with terrifying strength. Sammy gasped, frantically tugging at it, but the hair slithered up her arm, relentless, heading straight for her head.

“Get it off me!” She cried, her voice desperate. But Bella only smiled, cold and sinister.

“Don’t fight it, Samantha. You’ll love being a hawt bitch.” Bella purred.

Bella stood back, her arms crossed, watching with gleeful anticipation as the living hair slithered up Sammy’s arm and latched onto her head. Sammy let out a muffled scream, clawing at the strands as they dug into her scalp, but it was no use. The transformation had already begun.

Bella’s grin widened as she saw Sammy’s body start to change. Her chest swelled, her boobs growing fuller and rounder, the fabric of her cleaning uniform tightening around her frame. Sammy’s lips plumped next, growing into a pouty, perfect shape as if they had been touched by a masterful surgeon, designed to be prefect for dick sucking. Her wrinkles faded before Bella's eyes, years melting off her face as her skin smoothed into a flawless, youthful complexion.

Sammy’s body slimmed and reshaped, her figure becoming athletic and toned, curves in all the right places. Her old exhausted, middle-aged self was disappearing by the second. Bella felt a surge of satisfaction and pride watching the transformation unfold, seeing Sammy’s resistance fade.

Sammy’s eyes, once wide with panic, began to dull, her expression shifting from fear to something colder, more detached. Her lips, once trembling, now settled into a perfect, pouty smirk.

Sammy’s maid outfit began to shift, the fabric tightening and shrinking against her changing body. Her uniform morphed, the dull cloth replaced by sleek black leather that hugged her hips, forming a short, revealing skirt. Her top dissolved into a thin black string bra that left little to the imagination, her big tits barely being held by it.

A shiny black puffer coat materialized around her shoulders, draping loosely and adding a seductive edge to the ensemble.

Bella grinned in approval. “Now that’s more like it. Doesn’t that feel better, Samantha?”

Samantha turned to the mirror, her new reflection staring back with cold confidence. She ran her hands over her curves, admiring how her new clothes showed off her perfectly tight new body.

She turned to Bella, her eyes gleaming with approval. She took the cash from her friend’s hand and held it up to her face, mirroring the fake phone call Bella had done earlier. "Hello police? I want to report a crime. The crime of looking oh being a bad bitch." She said sticking her tongue out playfully.

“Thanks babe. You were right, I do love being a hawt bitch. I was meant to be this beautiful.” Samantha said, handing the cash back to Bella she turned back to her reflection. Bella sadled up next to her and the two beauties primped and admired themselves. Samantha grinned pushing her tits out at her reflection.

“We’re going to have so much fun. Imagine the broken hearts we’ll leave behind, the envious bitches watching us, desperate to keep up. We’ll show all those poser girls what it really means to be spoiled brats.” Bella said, her voice dripping with satisfaction.

Samantha chuckled, tossing her hair back. “They’ll hate us, but they’ll wish they were us.”

Bella nodded. "Of course but they never will be because we were maid for this."

THE END

[aryxchse]

godly bonding day / platonic! hera x poseidon & percy jackson x daughter of hera! reader.

a / n : people should give more about hera and her other siblings other than z*us fr. and call me crazy or whatever but i've always thought hera married the wrong brother 🤞🏻

warnings : hera apologist right here, poseidon and hera being sweet siblings, zeus cheating, maybe swearing

"alright mom, that's it," you said, holding both of your mother's hands. "we're having a selfcare day together."

hera sniffed, looking at you with teary eyes. zeus once again cheated on your mother, and the gossip spreads around olympus very quick. specially when your mother has little spies that follows zeus' every movement.

instead of taking revenge -simply because she was sick of it-, your mother called you to olympus for cheering her mood. and well, maybe you reminded her the revenge she took from zeus.

"selfcare day?" hera asked, tilting her head. the goddess and queen of heavens was so vulnerable in front of you. and it made you think like she was a normal mother, who was crying because of her husbands betrayal. "what is that?"

"i'll call percy and we'll take you to new places in the mortal world," you said, smiling at her. the goddess sat straight, considering the idea. "who knows? maybe he'll bring poseidon!"

hera smiled at the mention of her favorite brother. "oh i love poseidon! he's the dearest to me." you nodded at her comment, caressing her knuckles. "i know mom. today is your day, we can't let a man ruin your mood, not anymore."

hera wiped away her tears as she smiled. "oh my lovely daughter, you're so kind to me."

"of course mom," you smiled. "come on, let's go."

‎ 🦚

while you waited percy to call you to say the suprise were ready, you and hera visited multiple shops and places. hera appearently loved iced americano with chocolate chip cookies. and she loved the style old money, since she had to change her clothes to more comfortable ones.

now you guys headed to some old but vintage beach, were percy and poseidon were waiting.

hera took a sip from her third iced americano, smiling at the taste. "i sure want these in olympus," she said, stopping to take off her shoes. "their taste is amazing."

you did the same as you took a sip from your own coffee, taking the shoes inside of your bag. "i know right?" you said as the smell of the salt water started to fill your nose.

you both heard percy and poseidon talk pationetly about something, but they stopped and smiled the moment they saw you.

"hey baby," percy said, hugging your waist and kissing your cheek. you hugged him back with your free arm, smiling immediatly. "hi!"

"poseidon!" hera cheered next to you, running on the sand to hug her brother. poseidon laughed and picked hera up in his arms, turning around with her. "hera, my lovely sister!" he cheered back. "good to finally see you on the mortal world!"

"thanks to my daughter," hera answered, finally standing on her foot but still not letting poseidon go. "she helped me open my eyes."

you blowed a kiss to her as you stand next to percy, your arm still lazily hanged around his neck.

"well sister!" poseidon said, turning her around to walk around the beach. "let's have some dinner eh?"

‎ 🦚

who would've thought god of the sea made the best meal?

you all eated happily together, which was a weird sight. you and percy never thought your godly side of the family would bound this much. but well, maybe they needed a little courage.

you and percy insisted on washing the dishes, letting the divine siblings have their moment. they eventually agreed, leaving you both.

you washed the plates and handed them to percy to dry, while watching your parents laugh together from the window.

"i thought hera would never smile," percy grinned, drying some plate you gave him. you washed a fork, chuckling. "that's because she has the worst husband."

poseidon picked hera up and throw her on his shoulders, running around on the beach like two little kids. some thunders appeared but the siblings didn't cared, laughing like crazy. you and percy started laughing with them behind the window, getting happier each second.

"she really needed that." you said quietly, giving the last spoon to percy. you closed the water and percy finished drying up the spoon, putting back to it's place.

"believe me, he needed that too." percy said, stading behind you and hugging your waist. you gladly appreciated the love, hugging back his arms and resting your head against his cheek.

poseidon finally put down hera but the siblings hugged eachother, hera's laughter echoing through the beach. the lightning get really loud, but the siblings made a middle finger to the sky, clearly saying 'i don't give a fuck about you!' to their most annoying brother.

you smiled. "appearently gods need to have a bonding day too." percy nodded, kissing on top of your head.

"siblings are siblings everywhere after all." he whispered, and you chuckled.

[delewlew]

i'll kick your ass, verstappen: max verstappen x black fem! reader

request: HEYYYYYYY could you do a max x fem reader when he gets jealous really bad over one of your male friends please. Love your stories keep going 🤍🤍

warnings: jealousy, slight swearing, google translated dutch

author's note: i hope you like this, i lowkey fried my brain trying to make sure i was confident enough to post this...still trying to convince myself. also the title isn't as cute cuz my gradient thingie wasn't working so it'll be plain...sorry bout that. as always, reblogs and comments are always appreciated as well <3

you were in second grade when you met your best friend, nikolaas, after he moved to your school. you were assigned to be his class buddy to help him get comfortable at the new school. the two of you attended the same school all the up to university so you weren't ever really apart from one another. the two of you learned to swim and ride bikes together as little kids. he was there when you went on your first date with the cute guy in your calculus class at the ice rink near your home, and he was there to take you to the hospital when you broke your ankle right after. you were there to help him learn to slow dance before he went to his first formal dance with a girl that wasn't you. he was there to teach you how to walk in that pair of So Kate's you bought without realizing maybe there was a reason nobody but zendaya dared to wear those godforsaken heels. you were there to coach him through confessing his feelings to his first boyfriend. the two of you had experienced so much of your lives beside one another that your relationship wasn't shaken when it was time to move away from home. years passed and he was a professional model travelling the world while you were working as an architect, living in monaco.

since living in monaco you'd been promoted, moved to a nicer apartment, completed a huge project with your team, and met your boyfriend. you met max at an event you'd been invited to courtesy of your own personal connections. from the moment he laid eyes on you, he knew you there was something different about you from other women he's met in the past. that night, you both exchanged numbers and he'd convinced you to go on a date with him shortly after.

༘˚⋆𐙚｡⋆𖦹.✧˚

for the first time since you'd moved to monaco, your best friend had finally been able to take time to come visit you. he'd flown in two days ago and was staying at your apartment for a bit longer before flying out to korea for some event he was invited to. you sat on your bed and he sat across from you painting a fresh coat of nail polish over his nails since the ocean water chipped it off earlier today. his hand shook slightly as he painted his fingers and your voice cut through the silence, "nikko i swear to god if you get black nail polish on my bed i'll kill you." he looked up through his long, thick, black eyelashes and muttered, "je bent letterlijk de meest dramatische persoon die ik ooit heb ontmoet." you rolled your eyes and huffed, "whatever you love me and you know it." he cracked a smile through the focused glare he held while looking at his fingers, "yeah yeah...speaking of love, how's your man?" [you're literally the most dramatic person i've ever met]

you smiled at the thought of max and answered, "he's really good. the season has treated him well for the most part and he's happy with how things are. we're going back home for his next race so i'm excited i'll be able to see both of our families, and i'm gonna try to stop by your place to see your mom if she's there." he shook his head while keeping his eyes on his nails, "m'ma is in suriname until september because she's visiting granm'ma and granp'pa." your frowned and asked, "were you supposed to go home with her?" nikko nodded and shrugged, "it's alright though, i think i'll be able to make it down there for christmas so it's fine. plus you can see her in september when she comes back." a smile tugged on his lips and he continued, "that is if you want to come see me walk at new york, paris, milan, or london fashion week this year." you nearly tackled him into a hug and screeched, "NO FUCKING WAY- NIKKO?! YOU BOOKED ALL FOUR?!" he laughed and wrapped his arm around you in a hug, "yup i'm booked and busy this year!"

you immediately promised, "i'm going to be at every single show." your best friend nodded, "already reserved your tickets for everything." there was a beat of silence before he asked, "wait isn't max still racing in september- i don't want to make you miss those especially because you missed miami for the met gala with me." this was true, you'd flown to new york city to be nikko's plus one for the met gala but max told you he didn't mind and was happy you were going. without a second thought, only thinking of how exciting this was for your best friend, you waved off his worry, "it'll be fine. besides max likes you."

༘˚⋆𐙚｡⋆𖦹.✧˚

"i don't fucking like this guy." max huffed as he scrolled though his instagram because you posted something. he looked at his screen and clenched his jaw seeing the post you'd made with your best friend.

therealyn

liked by nikko, maxverstappen1, and 643,943 others

therealyn baby's first time in monaco <3

read all 5,423 comments

nikko i wish i could stay longer :(

⤷ therealyn don't forget me when ur famous

sza cuties

⤷ therealyn omg i love you

username1 why is he so close?

⤷ username2 they've been friends since they were 7 and nikko moved to the netherlands from suriname. y/n was his first friend and they've grown up together. don't try to start something out of nothing.

⤷ username3 GET EM SIS

⤷ username4 ngl i kinda see what username1 means...if you look back at some other posts they've made with each other they're way closer than i'd consider to be best friends. i mean i personally wouldn't be that close with my guy bsf knowing i have a man.

⤷ username4 that man is a walking pride flag be so fr rn

⤷ username1 im just saying he's a little close to her. plus she's already missed a race so she can go see him, and i guarantee you she'll do the same again when fashion week comes around.

༘˚⋆𐙚｡⋆𖦹.✧˚

reading the comments didn't ease max's mind whatsoever but he did catch a few that did make him realize that maybe you were just being a supportive best friend. he'd had friends go to things to support him in the past and he's done the same for them so why does he feel so...weird when you do the same? he'd managed brush off the feelings he had until he checked your story and clicked on the post you'd shared:

nikko

liked by therealyn, gucci, and 1,235,099 others

nikko but none of them will ever love you the way i do it's me and you

view all 10,302 comments

therealyn and as the years go by our friendship will never die

kendalljenner beauties

username6 ...why is he holding her like that.

⤷ username7 i think they're together? i always saw their posts together and assumed

⤷ username8 NO THEY'RE NOT TOGETHER THEY'RE BEST FRIENDS PLS DON'T START RUMORS SHE IS DATING MAX VERSTAPPEN

username9 this look a little....

username10 yall are so weird. literally every interaction nikko has with a girl looks like this, look it up and you'll see he's holding everyone's hand, wrapping their arms around them. it's just how he is pipe down.

username11 THE CAPTION? NIKOLAAS UR BOLD FOR THAT ONE

username12 ngl i kinda wanna see them as a couple

༘˚⋆𐙚｡⋆𖦹.✧˚

max fought to control his facial expressions when you called him excited to tell him about going to support nikko at the big 4 fashion weeks. he watched as your eyes sparkled, "he's already reserved the seat in my name at all of his shows too! this is so great he's always wanted to walk in these shows and now he's got the chance. i want september to already be here." max frowned at the mention of the month, "schat- i'm still racing in september though?" you explained, "well yeah it's just singapore and azerbaijan that i'll have to miss but i'll be at the rest." max bit the inside of his cheek, "didn't you already see him walk in new york back in may? you missed miami for it remember?" you smiled, "babe that was the met gala, that was different. this is actual fashion shows not a red carpet."

when max was still silent you asked, "why don't you seem happy doe nikko?" he took a small exhale to not raise his voice or seem too annoyed, "it's good for the guy i mean this is a big deal as a model. i just...sometimes i think he's just a little too close?" you frowned and you asked, "what do you mean? you've never had a problem with him before?" max sighed and admitted, "i'm just saying there's no reason why other people should be questioning our relationship status when you're with other people. why is he holding you like i hold you?" you couldn't even find the right words for a moment, "i- i- he....max you've seen the way he acts around everyone. he's a touchy guy and he always has been. why are you now bothered that he holds me? it's nothing new."

max let out another annoyed huff and snapped, "just tell him to watch himself." you couldn't even say anything before he hung up the phone on you and left you stunned to a silence. just then your phone pinged and it was another instagram notification:

nikko just posted a story!

there wasn't even a point in trying to ask nikolaas to delete the story because he was on a flight to korea right now which means he just posted it before the plane took off. so all you had to do was hope maybe max wouldn't see it because although you had no issue with the photo, you knew right now your boyfriend would.

༘˚⋆𐙚｡⋆𖦹.✧˚

the instagram story made it's way to his eyes in less than 5 minutes after it was posted. so, max didn't hesitate to open his own photo gallery and select a few pictures before posting them himself, he pasted a caption from the ones you'd saved in his notes and posted it before turning off his phone.

maxverstappen1

liked by charles_leclerc, f1wags, and 649,779 others

maxverstappen1 mijn

view all 3,402 comments

therealyn answer your phone

username13 HE'S MAD HE SEEN THE POSTS

username14 max....

charles_leclerc mate, you posted on your main

⤷ maxverstappen1 i know.

⤷ charlesleclerc oh!

oscarpiastri i feel like i wasn't supposed to see some of these

⤷alex_albon i don't think any of us were...

⤷ therealyn you werent.

༘˚⋆𐙚｡⋆𖦹.✧˚

hot tears stung the corners of your eyes as you stared at your phone knowing full well why max posted the photos he did. you knew that he got jealous every now and again but he'd never done anything like this, especially when it came to nikolaas because he knew how close he was to you. max wasn't answering your phone calls or text messages so you had no way to actually call him.

meanwhile max was in his apartment on his sim when he heard a knock at his door. when he opened it he saw lando standing on his doorstep before he pushed his way into his apartment. max asked, "why are you in my apartment?" lando shook his head and countered, "why are you posting shit like this online?" a smug grin tugged at max's lips and he answered, "you know why."

lando sat on max's couch and responded, "i don't know why. what i do know is your girlfriend called me crying asking me why you weren't answering her calls." max huffed, "she's busy playing with that guy." lando ran a hand through his curls, "you're jealous of her best fucking friend? are you being serious right now?" max rolled his eyes and lando continued, "the guy wears nail polish and face glitter and you think something is going on between them?" when there was silence lando continued, "mate he literally flirted with charles and asked for his number when he came to zandvoort last year. then told alex that she had good taste because he wanted to quote 'drink him up and sop up the rest with a biscuit. and you think there's any way that something is happening with y/n? you can be jealous but if your girlfriend says there's no reason to worry then you should trust her. you need to fix this before something actually happens that can't be fixed." lando slapped max on the shoulder before walking out the door and heading back to his apartment.

༘˚⋆𐙚｡⋆𖦹.✧˚

it was nearly 3 am when max unlocked the front door to your apartment and slipped in quietly, kicking off his shoes and leaving them by your front door. he pulled back the door and grabbed one of his t shirts and took off his pants before climbing in your bed. he pulled you closer to him and wrapped his arm around your torso. when you moved his arm off of you he knew you were awake so he mumbled, "schat..." you answered plainly, "wat wil je, max?" your boyfriend pressed a kiss to your shoulder and responded, "i'm sorry. i was wrong and i was immature and posting those pictures knowing you had them in our private folder was wrong." there was a momentary silence before you asked, "waarom heb je het dan gedaan?" he let out a deep sigh as he admitted, "i was jealous and only thinking about myself in the moment instead of thinking about how my actions would affect you as well. i never want to hurt you or be the reason for your pain, but i was so i'm sorry." [what do you want, max? // then, why did you do it?]

you felt his hand run over your arm gently as you asked, "wat ga je doen om het te repareren?" max answered, "well i deleted the post first and came here to apologize second. also i'd love to see you go to london, paris, new york, and milan to support nikko in september. i'll be waiting at home for you the minute you get back." you turned to face him and opened your eyes, finding his gaze in the darkness. bringing your hand to his cheek you asked, "i never want you to think that anyone stands a chance at competing with you for my heart, maxie. you are my person and i only love you this way, i only want to be with you. there's only you in my heart and i need you to trust me when i say that, okay?" max leaned into your touch and nodded, before you pressed a gentle kiss to his lips, "i love you." he pulled you to his chest and tangled his legs with yours as he replied, "ik houd ook van jou." you nuzzled closer to him and brought a hand to his chest, tracing small patterns over his heart. both of you began to drift off to sleep, your voice cut through the silence, "but do that shit again and i'm kicking your ass, verstappen." max let out a small chuckle and admitted, "i don't doubt that, but you don't have to worry about it happening again." [what are you going to do to fix it?//i love you too.]

༘˚⋆𐙚｡⋆𖦹.✧˚

the end.

[tkaulitzlvr]

(da du pingelig bist)

tom laying with reader on the sofa, bill and tom start arguing, tom walks out into his car, reader then follows and gets in his car, hes all gripping the steering wheel, they talk about it, after he smirks and gets in the back and reader follows, sitting on his lap. he takes his anger out on her and they fuck hard, windows get all steamy and hes gentle after. dont forgot his whines and stuff, just like we talked bout

dankeschön meine schönes madchen💋

COOL OFF - T. KAULITZ

synopsis: after a heated argument with bill, tom decides to go and sit in his car for a while to calm down. you eventually join him, things taking an unexpected turn after the two of you talk about what happened.

content: smut (what else do u expect from my page anymore LMAO)

a/n: hope u all enjoy!!

“you were the last person to see the fucking guitar bill. i swear to god if you’ve broken it.” tom’s voice begins to raise as his eyes shoot daggers to bill from across the room. he is sprawled out across the couch with his arm draped loosely around my shoulder from behind as i sit beside him, silently watching the argument unfold. it had started as a normal conversation, tom bringing up that he had told bill to put one of his guitars away, though it soon turned sour when bill insisted that he didn’t know what tom was talking about. their voices begin to raise louder and louder, the hot-headed sides of them emerging faster than ever before. tom still sits beside me, a bottle of soda in his spare hand, his thumb rubbing soft circles onto my arms despite the harsh tone of his voice.

“tom i’ve told you i don’t know where your fucking guitar is.” bill, clearly the more rational of the two, calmly reminds his twin brother, his voice much quieter than tom’s as his hands rub over his temples, his body lazily walking over to the fridge as he grabs a bottle of water from it, returning back to the couch opposite.

“god i can’t trust you with anything, can i? do you have any idea how much that guitar cost?” any composure within tom’s voice is now long gone, his hand clenching the glass bottle in his left hand and slamming it on the table in front of us forcefully.

“maybe if you looked after your things yourself this wouldn’t happen! i’m not your slave tom, it’s not my job to look after your shitty guitars.” bill rolls his eyes, taking a swig of water before eyeing tom as he removes his arm from my shoulder.

“where are you going?” i mumble as he stands up, his gaze dark, though it falters momentarily when he hears my voice, soft and calm as i look upward at him.

“i just- i need to cool down. i’ll be in my car.” he squeezes my thigh before turning his gaze to bill once again. he takes a few steps closer toward bill, pointing a finger angrily at his chest. “you better find that fucking guitar bill, i swear to god.”

and with that, he storms out of the room, slamming the door harshly behind him, leaving nothing but a bitter atmosphere in place of his presence. i sigh loudly, tapping my foot quickly against the ground, hating to see tom upset, especially when it is because of a stupid argument with his brother. i would usually feel bad for bill, but this time he seems completely unbothered, muttering something in german under his breath before returning his attention to the small television in the corner of the room.

“should i go after him?” i ask quietly, bill looking toward me and offering a soft smile, shaking his head slowly.

“leave him. if he wants to act like a child let him, i’m not going to stop him.” he shrugs his shoulders, spreading out on the couch and dipping his hand into the bag of chips that lay on the coffee table, clearly no where near as affected as tom is by the whole situation.

my hands immediately rush to my arms, running up and down the bare skin when i exit the building, the january breeze icy as it creates goosebumps across my body. i quickly spot tom’s car in the already empty parking lot, the grey sports car tucked away in one corner. the tense atmosphere somehow lingers when i approach the car, tapping on the window of the passenger side, tom’s head quickly turning around toward the source of the noise. his eyes are angry, jaw clenched as his hands clutch the steering wheel, so much that his knuckles begin to turn white. though his gaze softens temporarily when he notices me, one hand coming downward to unlock the door. i open it, cautiously stepping in and sitting down. an uneasy silence begins to form, one that would never be there unless a bad argument had happened, these occasions somewhat rare between tom and his brother.

“are you okay?” my voice is soft, barely above a whisper as i test the waters, attempting to gauge how angry he truly is, extremely careful to avoid him lashing out on me. not that he would mean to, however knowing tom as well as i do comes with the realisation that his temper is easily lost in moments like this.

“i swear to god i can’t trust him with anything.” he faces away from me, head turned to the side as he speaks, his leg bouncing up and down in frustration. but his facial expression shows only a minimal amount of his anger, his knuckle colliding harshly with the wheel, a red mark forming in place of the soft skin. i flinch slightly, and when he turns to look at me eventually, he must notice the unmistakeable look of fear etched upon my features, my body inched away from him.

“shit i’m sorry schatz.” he sounds defeated, a steady hand coming to rest on my thigh comfortingly, his thumb rubbing soft circles over the clothed skin, watching carefully as i begin to loosen up, calming down at the realisation that he isn’t frustrated with me. “it’s just annoying, you know? i ask him to do one thing for me, and he manages to lose one of my most expensive guitars. how does someone even lose a guitar? they’re pretty difficult to fucking miss.”

i nod understandingly as he rants to me, his tone still angry and the volume of his voice gradually getting higher. i quickly realise that letting out his feelings isn’t helping him to cool off, in fact it does the exact opposite - his rambling soon becoming just as heated as it had been when it was directed at bill. he finishes his speech with a loud groan, moving his head and resting it harshly on the seat, his jaw still clenched and expression harsh. his chest rises up and down, heavy breaths escaping from his parted lips, one hand still remaining firmly on the steering wheel, his veins becoming more prominent as his grip gets tighter, whilst his other hand rests on his forehead, massaging his temples slowly.

he turns his head, taking a not so subtle glance at me, his eyes, darkened and mirroring the rage that the rest of his body display, slowly trailing down my figure. a small crop top sits tightly on my upper half, flared jeans hugging my legs tightly, sucking me in at the waist just enough. my cleavage pokes out of the top slightly, this where tom’s eyes continue to linger, the harshness within them never faltering despite the clear presence of lust that forms along with it.

“come here.” he mumbles, his voice deep as he keeps his body still, the tone of his utterance making it crystal clear that it is not a request, and i have little choice in the situation. his expression never falters as i look at him in confusion, quickly realising that he isn’t going to move a muscle, let alone speak unless i comply with his words. the air becomes thicker as silence passes through it, only destroyed by the muffled sound of my body sitting up, hesitantly moving over to tom’s lap. he says nothing, spreading his legs apart and allowing me more room as i lower myself onto his lap, staring into his eyes without uttering a word. my eyes are innocent, a glint of submissiveness within them that seems to drive him insane as his hands attach themselves firmly to my waist. the pads of his fingertips run along the skin that my crop top doesn’t cover, his touch cold, but equally enticing. his lips are parted, eyes still darkened with rage, the lust within them soon managing to even it out as his hands rub down my waist, my clothed heat directly over his dick, the pressure only increasing as it begins to harden beneath me.

his gaze remains locked on my own, my breath getting caught in my throat when he clutches my hips, moving them over his crotch at an agonisingly slow pace without saying anything, the friction enough for his jaw to tighten a little, his head falling backward. “you gonna make me forget about it, hm schatz?”

i nod my head slowly, my breathing gradually speeding up as he repeats his motions, grinding me over his clothed dick once again. he doesn’t seem to want to remove any clothing, the heavy denim that adorns his lower half staying on, seeming to provide more friction that drives the both of us crazy. somehow he manages to stay quiet, his expression almost blank as he watches my face twist in pleasure, eyes on the brink of closing when his hardened cock brushes directly over my clothed clit, the contact just enough to send waves of pleasure through my body. however his somewhat strict demeanour soon fades away when my hands move to touch the waistband of his jeans, his eyes widening as they now lock onto my small fingers, watching their movements intently. it is this added contact that makes him brush myself over him as a faster pace, his grip much harsher as i now help him out, grinding onto him and matching the fast pull of his hands.

“keep going, like that.” though he won’t admit it, i can tell that he is enjoying this just as much as i am, deciding to conceal the pleasure he feels and instead keep his angry gaze locked on me, the sight enough for me to slip my hands into his boxers whilst i maintain the movements of my hips, desperate for him to make some sort of noise.

his mouth falls open, a loud sigh escaping from it as his hips buckle upward at the contact, the added friction causing a low whine to leave my own lips. he shakes his head when i try to sit up, wanting to feel his dick, not just through the painfully annoying restraints of his clothing. he is quick to stop me, grabbing my hips and placing them back onto his crotch.

“no no no, just…keep grinding baby, feels so good.” i widen my eyes slightly at his request, though i don’t think into it too much, placing my hands flat against his chest for leverage and resuming my movements, taking notice of the way his body begins to relax once again, slumping further into the seat. and when i lean forward, lips colliding with his neck ever so gently, he can’t resist the urge to make noise, an almost inaudible whine sounding from his lips as i kiss the skin just below his ear. his chest rises up and down, breathing becoming more erratic when i twist my hips slightly, his dick now brushing against my clit, the new angle clearly doing something for tom too as he squeezes my hips, groaning into my ear as i continue to kiss his neck.

“getting close, keep going schatz. doing so good for me.” his hands don’t sit on my hips anymore. they now rest on my ass, kneading the flesh as much as he can through the material of my jeans, accelerating my movements when i feel my own stomach begin to tighten. he pulls my head from his neck, the skin now littered in soft marks. though i don’t have much time to study my work as his hand threads through my hair, resting on the back of my head and pulling it harshly to kiss him. it is rough and sloppy, mirroring the desperation of my hips as they grind over him, tom occasionally thrusting upward slightly.

“fuck- i’m cumming.” he groans out against my lips, hands squeezing my skin enough to leave marks as his mouth falls open, releasing his hot cum into his pants as i carry on grinding onto him, moving a few more times before i reach my own climax. i struggle to kiss him back, moaning into his mouth as i rock back and forth onto him, slowing my movements once we have both rode out our highs. he grabs my face once again, sliding his tongue into my mouth and kissing me quickly before pulling away, placing me back onto the passenger seat.

i furrow my eyebrows, though when he hurriedly slips his shirt off, i soon get the idea. he climbs into the back, spreading his body out across the leather seats, his bare upper half resting against the car door whilst his legs are spread out. he rushes to undo the button on his jeans, flashing me a quick smirk from the back as i watch him, still sitting in the passenger seat.

“c’mon baby, take your clothes off.” he breathes out, watching intently as i hurriedly pull my small crop top off, my breasts only held in by the delicate lace bra that is still on. tom’s eyes hook onto my cleavage, his tongue poking out of his mouth to play with the small piercing adorning his bottom lip, a slight smirk etched upon his face. my hands now fiddle with the button of my jeans, just about to undo the zipper. my attempt is soon stopped by tom’s hand as it wraps around my wrist, pulling me into the backseat as i wriggle my way through, my body falling on top of his own. he quickly sits me on his lap, his hands scrambling with the zipper of my jeans as he aggressively tugs them down, forcing me to lift my hips upward as he pulls them from my legs, the lack of space in his car a pretty big inconvenience.

he groans in frustration, applying more force and yanking the denim down, sighing in relief as my bare body now sits on top of his, his eyes scanning the matching pink set that i had picked out. “you look beautiful.” his hands trail down my body, starting out at my chest, running over the lace of my bra, before trailing downward, their touch lingering just above my panties. “but i think you’ll look even better with this off, don’t you baby?”

i nod in agreement, hands reaching behind my back to unclasp my bra, my breasts springing free as tom wastes no time running his thumbs over my sensitive nipples, goosebumps forming over my skin at the feeling. the throbbing between my legs becomes painfully more obvious by the second, quickly making me realise that tom’s jeans are still on. his mouth works on my chest, biting and sucking at my breasts, far too occupied to register my weak attempts to pull his jeans down. quiet whines leave my lips, making it far harder to concentrate on what i really want - and more importantly, the fact that i can’t get it.

“let me take them off.” i whine impatiently, hissing when tom’s teeth graze my nipple. he doesn’t ignore me this time, bucking his hips upward and allowing me space to tug the denim down as he mutters a quiet ‘go ahead baby’, his voice vibrating against my chest. his boxers do a pathetic job at concealing his length, and more noticeably, the hardness of it. a white spot sits at the front from his previous release, and he is far too preoccupied with his lips against my chest to realise when i pull them down, bucking my hips upward to take my own panties off, letting them pool at my knees. he only realises what is happening when i press his tip to my entrance, sliding it in ever so slightly. it is at this moment when he sits back, his back pressed against the car door, eyes glued to his dick as i slowly slide it inside of me.

though the sense of control that i think i have is soon ripped away when in one swift motion, he flips us over whilst being half way inside, his body now directly on top of me.

“nice try baby.” he winks above me, placing both hands on my hips and beginning to slide the rest of his length inside of me, my walls stretching out as they try to become accustomed to his size - something that has never been easy. “let me forget about it all, mhm? just want to fuck you…”

his eyes darken at the subtle mention of the very recent dispute, making the purpose of our rendezvous very clear once again. and i don’t mind that it won’t be a slow, loving moment, knowing that we already share plenty of these. right now, all i want is to feel him move, regardless of the pain that might come along with it. and when i nod my head slowly, eyes gazing upward at him, that is all he needs to begin thrusting in and out of me, not bothering to give me time to adjust. he doesn’t start out slow, ignoring the opportunity to build up stamina and instead exercising his energy into moving his hips against mine so hard that the car shakes slightly. it doesn’t take long for loud groans to sound from his opened mouth, his nails digging into my hips.

when i scream his name louder than i had intended, he smirks down at me, repeating the motion that had elicited the noise out of me, his tip hitting the sensitive spot where i need him most. the lack of space doesn’t matter anymore, in fact it seems to work in my favour, drawing tom closer to me as he hovers inches above my body, his thrusts getting deeper each time. and to confirm our closeness, my eyes flicker downward, noticing the slight bulge in my stomach that comes and goes with each thrust. tom follows my gaze, tongue swiping across his lip when he registers what i am looking at. though i can’t watch for much longer, my eyes rolling to the back of my head.

he quickly regains my attention though, his hand grabbing my own, placing it on my stomach, the pads of my fingertips feeling the small bulge ever so slightly as tom watches my reaction, his mouth hung open and eyebrows furrowed. “you feel it schatz? look how well i fit inside you.”

all that my body can manage is a loud moan in response, teeth sinking into my bottom lip as he almost pulls out completely, forcing his entire length inside me in one fast motion, repeating his actions until i am struggling to see properly. my hands clutch desperately onto whatever they can make contact with, staring at his biceps, lined with muscle as they flex with each squeeze of my hips, until i end up pulling on the loose dreads that hang in front of my face, eliciting a loud groan from tom.

if my eyes had been able to stay open the past five minutes, i would have probably noticed the windows beginning to steam up, though it takes tom’s hand planting itself harshly against the glass for me to realise, a smudged mark left where it begins to trail downward. he places one hand flat against the window, next to where his handprint is marked, using it to stabilise himself as he aims to speed his pace up even more - something which didn’t even seem possible until he proves me wrong, snapping his hips back and forth as his length moves in and out of me faster than i am able to comprehend.

even if my moans are loud enough to overtake his own, it is impossible to ignore the small whines that leave his mouth, gradually progressing into soft groans, my name pouring from his lips as he chants it over again, the noises he makes only getting louder when i clench around him.

“do it again baby, please do it again.” though hazy amidst the tightening feeling that begins to build in my stomach, i manage to register his breathy voice, clenching my walls around him as his hips stutter against mine, his head falling backward with a loud moan sounding throughout the car, prompting me to repeat my motions - something which doesn’t go unnoticed by tom.

“fuck- you’re gonna make me cum baby. so close.” the car begins to get unbearably hot, windows seeming to steam up even more as our bodies move against eachother, lined with sweat and becoming more desperate by the second. he starts circling his hips, changing the angle so slightly that my body itself notices no real difference, not straight away anyway. with a few quick thrusts at this new angle, a series of high-pitched moans spill from my lips at the sensation, his pelvis hitting my clit just enough to stimulate it, giving double the pleasure from a seemingly small action.

“that feel good?” he knows that i am far beyond being able to respond, but even if i could, i would be screaming the three letter word ‘yes’ over and over again, though when my throat turns raw from practically screaming his name, he gets his answer, able to repeat his sharp thrusts until i know i can’t hold on much longer. the distinct smell of sex lingers throughout the car, my body beginning to stick to the leather seats as sweat lines my skin. tom is just as worn out too, but he somehow keeps going despite the rapid breaths that leave his lips, often cut off by deep groans and almost inaudible strings of curses. when his dick begins to twitch inside of me, i know that he is almost there - no need for him to verbalise it, his hands instead roaming my body as he captures my lips in a messy kiss.

i can barely kiss back, my hands wrapping around his neck, trailing down his back as he hisses in pain, never scolding me despite the fact that my nails dig into the skin harshly. in fact it seems to encourage him more as he moans into my mouth, tongue slipping into it as the kiss somehow gets sloppier, lips barely managing to collide together, often interrupted by soft moans. he pulls back slowly, my bottom lip between his teeth, releasing back into place when he sits up almost completely, thrusting into me a few more times before ropes of his cum coat my walls.

he throws his head back, loud whines sounding from the back of his throat as his hips rock back and forth slowly, fucking his cum deeper into me. with a few more deep thrusts, i hook my legs around his waist, drawing him deeper inside me as i let go of the knot in my stomach, my eyes rolling to the back of my head at the feeling, unable to process anything else but the overwhelming sensation, my entire body trembling. his hand moves downward to rub slow circles on my clit, my orgasm continuing to wash over me as my cum coats tom’s dick that still remains inside of me, hitting my g-spot with each thrust. his name falls off of my tongue like a mantra, seemingly the only thing i am able to say, his body on top of mine and cock inside of me all i want to think about - nothing else matters in this moment.

tom stays inside of me, his body collapsing on top of me as we lay, completely breathless, not bothered by the fact that if anybody were to be in the parking lot, they probably would have heard us. he plants lazy kisses onto my neck, his breath fanning onto it afterward as he attempts to calm down, his own body trembling slightly above mine.

“did i go too hard? sorry, i just got carried away. i was so pissed, i didn’t mean to take it out on you schatz.” he wraps an arm around my waist loosely, stroking my hair and looking into my eyes, his own half-lidded as exhaustion takes over his expression. but when i shake my head, smiling weakly at him and pecking his lips, his expression softens, quickly kissing me back.

“it’s okay, i liked it. i’m gonna ask bill to piss you off more often.” he smirks at my statement, hand trailing down to my ass and squeezing it playfully. his eyes land on the window, the faint mark of his handprint still visible, though the glass has fogged up again since. he reaches one hand upward whilst still remaining on top of me, his finger beginning to scribble something onto the glass. i sit up once he is finished, trying to decipher the messy handwriting, sighing loudly when i read it. ‘thank god for tinted windows ;)’

“charming.” i roll my eyes, smiling playfully and locating my clothes, this much easier to do in the back of his car. i throw tom his jeans, reaching to the front and grabbing our t-shirts. tom somehow finds my bra before i do, insisting to put it on for me, turning my body around and joining the clasp. he slips his boxers on, not bothering with the rest of his clothes and instead sitting on the back seat silently, closing his eyes as his head falls back. i groan, throwing his clothes at him once again. “come on baby, you need to make up with your brother.”

requests are open! keep sending them in!!

[fandomzwriterk]

Can you write about the female reader teasing Smoke while cuddling? 😁

A/N: I’m collecting all the Mortal Kombat fans like Pokemon cards now and I couldn’t be more prouder

Warnigns: GN!Reader gets kidnapped + blood warning + The Lin Kuei brothers fight each other + fluffy content at the end

Smoke x GN!Reader

“This is the dumbest idea we’ve ever had.” Bi Han growled

Shang Tsung, Quan Chi, and Bi Han walked around the underground grave, looking around as the other Lin Kuei foot soldiers started building a camp to stay in. They weren’t leaving this place anytime soon.

“Well they’re our bargaining chip so they’ll come soon.”

“My brothers are not idiots.”

“Yet I know one of them is going to slip up.”

Shang Tsung and Quan Chi left, Bi Han staring at the cage Quan Chi built to keep you contained. You had two guards always watching, your leg tied by a chain so you wouldn’t even think of escape, frozen extra solid by Bi Han’s ice. He scowled at you, noticing your dirty and poor living condition. You still had open wounds all over you, pathetically covered in pieces of cloth, staining them to the point you could see the blood underneath.

“You are a pathetic excuse of a Lin Kuei soldier. I know they’ll come for you, Tomas always does.”

Some time earlier…

“I can’t climb that. What do you expect me to do? Have Kuai pull me up with ropes? Have Tomas carry me?”

You remember the scowl on Bi Han’s face, much like the one he gave you now. He hated you, you always knew that. You just never expected he’d hurt his brothers the worst way possible.

“Don’t you fucking dare!” Tomas shouted as he lunged at Quan Chi

Kuai Liang and Bi Han were fighting Shang Tsung, both trying to incapacitate him so they could bring him back to Liu Kang.

“Then why don’t I do this?” Quan Chi replied darkly

Quan Chi’s dark magic opened up under the ground, four ropes of it grabbing your arms and legs, holding you down to the ground. You struggled, but Quan Chi had strong mental power and hold of dark magic.

“This is pitiful.”

One flick of his hand and Kuai Liang and Bi Han got sent into the wall while Tomas was grabbed by one more of the dark magic ropes. He tried stabbing it, smoking away, nothing worked. Quan Chi tied down Bi Han and Kuai Liang on their knees in front of Shang Tsung, being held back by animated corpses.

“Work with me, and I can make the Lin Kuei great and feared again.”

You saw Bi Han’s eyes scan around at each of you in the room, resting them on you as you were helplessly tied down by the magic.

“Bi Han I swear on the Elder Gods if you do this-“

“And what if I did?”

“You wouldn’t hurt us, we’re your brothers, and Y/n is practically like our family too.”

“She’s family Bi Han! Don’t destroy what Father worked so hard-“

“Father was an old man who lost his mind, and I’m glad I left him to die. Now, I’m going to make sure both of you are without the distraction once more.”

Bi Han was let go, standing up as he walked over to you and crouched in front of you.

“You have no place in our family, even if you care about Tomas. You are nothing, and you always will be.”

He kicked your face, feeling the actual strength he’d been holding back from you in practice. It was painful, painful as hell. He kicked you once more, blood falling from your mouth and your eyes almost shut, but you could see his eyes staring at you with years of hatred. He was going to make everyone suffer his wrath, even his own family.

“You mother fucker!”

Quan Chi’s grip on Tomas loosened as he sent a smoke bomb out. Through the thick fog you could see Tomas move to help Kuai Liang up, starting to make his way to you.

“Get her out of here and into the tomb. She’s more valuable alive.”

Tomas and Kuai were fighting Bi Han as Shang Tsung and Quan Chi dragged your body down the cold stone hallway, as you could only watch as the room became smaller and smaller the more you got dragged away.

“You are a shame on the name of the Lin Kuei! Both of you! I am your Grandmaster and you listen to me!”

“I’m not listening to your shit anymore Bi Han! I’m going to end your reign of terror right now. Give her back now!”

“Tomas were outnumbered.”

Animated corpses crawled from under the ground, slowly going to surround both Tomas and Kuai, moving them to the edge of the stone balcony. Tomas could only fight in fear as he watched you get dragged away.

Now…

“Oh I’m going to get out of here Bi Han and when I do, I’m going to make sure you suffer for what you did to your brothers.”

“Ha! Not by the grace of the Elder Gods you won’t. You have no chance of even making it out of this room alive. You’d be dead before you could even think of fighting back.”

You wanted to curse him out, call him a bastard, but you knew words weren’t going to do anything now. You could see his smug expression while he crossed his arms, staring down at you like a dog in the streets.

“It’s been five days, I doubt they’ll be coming for you.”

Five days… this had been hell on Earth for you. Little did you know, somebody was making his way inside. Eventually, Bi Han followed Shang Tsung and left you alone with two foot soldiers. Even if you tried to escape now, the chain on your ankle would stop you. Your body felt weak, feeling faint at the loss of blood that seeped into the dirt you sat on. So, you closed your eyes, praying someone would save you as you fell to the ground.

“Hey! Y/n! Tomas over here!” You heard

Your hearing was starting to sound like you were going underwater, the pain slowly drifting away and you felt lighter, feeling calm as your eyes remained closed.

“No no no no! Y/n! Wake up!”

Through the darkness and light feeling, you could feel someone holding you, putting your body against their chest as they stood and picked you up, walking fast as more voices began to speak.

“Liu Kang!”

“Time to go! Right now!”

You felt the person holding you tightly, their grip never letting go as you felt warmth start to touch your skin. You still felt faint, but the warmth was brining back the sounds you could hear. After some time, you opened your eyes, staring at a white ceiling as you felt your body stiffen up while you tried to sit up. Your vision was blurry, slowly becoming clear as you blinked. You looked down, Tomas’ head laid on top of your hand, feeling the fact he was holding it too. He seemed tired. Had he been looking for you? As if he could hear your thoughts, he looked up, eyes red and puffy from crying. He jumped into you, hugging you like his life depended on it.

“You’re okay. Thank the Elder Gods.”

His grip tightened, holding on to you like it would be his last. Tomas pulled back a little, staring into your eyes as he brushed a strand of hair out of your eyes, tucking it behind your ear. For the first time since you’ve met him, you could finally see his smile. You could see him, the real Tomas, who wasn’t hiding anything from you. You put a hand on his cheek, seeing all the worry and hurt in his eyes. He loved you, more than you could ever know.

“I’m okay Tomas. I’m okay.”

“Good. Cause your dumbass had me worried!”

“Eh?! What does that mean?”

“You are such a dumbass for getting caught.”

“And you’re an even bigger dumbass for letting me get caught.”

You booped his nose, something you often did as kids whenever you teased each other. It was an old habit that even now, as a young man, Tomas still loved.

“But seriously… did Shang Tsung do anything to you?”

“No… I didn’t really see him. It was mostly Bi Han that was around.”

Tomas frowned, moving to sit next to you as he helped you lean against the wall on your medical bed. His silver hair was a mess, having been fluffed up by smothering you. Your hand reached up, trailing along the side of his face, admiring the small scars on his face while you fixed his hair.

“There. Now you look cute.”

“Hm I think I’m always cute… according to you at least.”

“Oh you are so getting when I’m better.”

You leaned against him, head leaning against his shoulder. Your hand drifted, grabbing his hand in yours.

“I promise to never do anything like that again.”

He turned his head, staring at you with his silver-blue eyes, a smile on his face.

“And I promise that while I’m around, nothing is going to happen to you my love.”

A/N: I feel like I did TERRIBLE on this but I’m glad I could do your request☺️ I like writing for everyone!

[xiaosonlybeloved]

7 Minutes in Heaven- Gojo Satoru

featuring:- Gojo Satoru x fem!reader, Shoko, Utahime, Geto, Nanami tags:- fluff, y/n and gojo being absolute lovesick idiots, dumb and cringy pickup lines, kisses a/n:- again, i apologise for the cringe but your wishes have been fulfilled. i swear, next time it REALLY will be angst. Also this was based of a req i got on my main haha

wc:- 2k || masterlists

Shoko and Utahime were dragged by you into a nearby room, the door shutting behind them forcefully. “Guys you can’t literally be serious.” You exclaimed. Shoko yawned as she said, “It’s literally just a game, [Y/N]. Relax, you’re getting all worked up for nothing.” You looked at her in sheer disbelief as you whisper-shouted “But he’s here too! What if we- god forbid- get paired?” Utahime chuckled at your nervousness as she put an arm around your shoulder and said, “Well, that’s a great opportunity for you, isn’t it? I mean, no offence [Y/N, you’re my best friend and I love you, but you are driving me crazy with all your rambling about Gojo. Like, I get it, you like him, please go and confess.” She sighed. You were about to retort with a denial before a series of soft knocks sounded on the door. “Are you guys there? We’re waiting, if you’re ready.” Geto’s ever-calm voice came from the other side of the door. Shoko immediately responded with a “Yup, just [Y/N] being silly.”

The room to be used for the game had been appropriately darkened and set up. Nanami was working on the chits they’d used to select the two people for 7 minutes in heaven when they re-entered the living room. You released your breath in relief. Nanami was the most trustworthy in the group, and there was definitely no chance of rigging the chits. You know that if it was anyone else, probably all the chits would be filled with your and Gojo’s name.

Yeah, you have no idea how it even came about in the first place, but you had developed a terrible crush on one of your best friends, Gojo Satoru. Every moment you spent with him casually just made it worsen, as you noticed more and more things about him- the small twinkle in his eyes when he was up to some mischief, the assured self-confidence in his grin, the way his demeanor softened a bit on seeing all of you, and so much more. Even worse for you, you believed that he would never reciprocate, leading you to rant about it to your best friends, lovesick. (To the point that they consulted Geto and Nanami about it without your knowledge, only to find that those two were facing the exact same problem. Safe to say, Nanami was even more pissed than usual by Gojo.)

You’re brought back to the present from your daydreams by Geto calling out, “Hey, could you and Gojo please get the timer and some snacks from the storeroom? It’s gonna be a while.” You swallowed a bit as you nodded, “Yeah sure.” ,walking towards the said location with Satoru close behind you. 

It took the both of you some time to find the timer, which had been buried in some box somewhere, and you couldn’t help but feel that it was on purpose. By the time you two came back, the others were ready with the chits and waiting impatiently for you. “Took you long enough.” Utahime grumbled as she grabbed the snacks from you without bothering to ask nicely, passing over some packets to the others. There was only one bowl with all your names, ‘to make it more interesting’. 

The chips and cakes and drinks were passed around as Nanami drew the first two chits- Him and Geto. He shrugged as if bored already, as he followed Geto into the designated room. From beside you, Gojo groaned that this was a waste of time because absolutely nothing would happen between those two, as he impatiently tapped his foot- another thing you’d noticed about him. To while away the seven minutes, you put on some of your favorite songs, the others beside you perking up as they recognised their all time favorite artist. (im listening to taylor rn lmao)  At the end of the time, you guys noiselessly padded over the carpets and barged into the room to find both of them- asleep. 

You merely deadpan at the sight while Satoru instantly ran over to Nanamin and grabbed his arm to pull him up, the said man spewing a string of curses at the sudden disturbance, Shoko doing the same with Geto. Then Nanami pulled the next two chits, and your heart sinked as he first called out your name then, “..Geto?” 

Everyone at the table simultaneously frowned as Geto leaned over to look at the chit. “...That’s literally Gojo in my cursive handwriting.” Frowning, you grab the chit from Nanamin to confirm, and indeed it was Gojo’s name written on it. Geto leaned back in his chair, unimpressed at his friends’ inability to read his writing, while you weren’t sure whether to be happy or upset that you’d be locked in a room with your long-time crush. 

“Well, let’s go now, the seven minutes are ticking away!” Satoru laughs as he pulls you gently into the designated room by the wrist. Utahime and Geto cheerfully call out “Good luck!” and you swear you can see everyone sigh with relief.

You take a deep breath and walk through the door Satoru is chivalrously holding open for you with a grin, and Satoru follows as the door is locked from outside. But just a moment later, he trips and falls. He quickly gets up though, as he looks at you and says, “Hey, do you have a bandaid? Cause I scraped my knee falling for you.” 

You blink at him, once, twice, till you start laughing. He pouts, upset. “That’s so rude of you [N/N]!” You respond with “You should tie your shoelaces- I don’t want you falling for anyone else.” Now its Satoru’s turn to be flabbergasted, and you’re sure both your friends would be highly disappointed with your cringy as hell pick-up lines, but hey, atleast you’re not nervous anymore. “You don’t need to worry, cause I was enchanted to meet you. Still am, by the way.”

Your smile turns sad as the reality of the situation sinks in. Satoru was probably just using these to while away the time, and the fact that you really were in love with him didn’t help. “Satoru, I think we should stop now, because it hurts to know that you don’t really mean any of this.” “But I do!” Satoru protested vehemently. You turned away from him to face the wall. “Stop joking, please. Fine, I’ll admit it. I really like you Toru, and I wanna be more than just friends with you but I know you don’t feel the same. Still, its not nice of you to play with my heart like that.”

A beat of silence, then another, and suddenly you’re scared that you’ve ruined everything that was between you- friendship or more. 

And then you feel Satoru hugging you from behind, as you freeze up. You think you might just malfunction, because the Gojo Satoru just kissed you on the cheek with a lopsided smile. “Now now, who gave you the impression that I didn’t like you back? If anything, I thought that my feelings weren’t returned.”

You spin around in his embrace, shocked. Mistake, you realise, because your faces are so close to each other now, that if either of you leant forward a bit, you’d be kissing. “Are you being serious right now?” You whisper. “For once, yes, I’m being dead serious. But since we both like each other, can we just skip the formalities and kiss? Because right now, you’re the one torturing me with this proximity.” Satoru replies back, fully serious, and it makes you laugh a little as you finally, finally, pull his pretty face towards yours to kiss him like you’ve been longing to all this time. 

Satoru immediately responds in kind, and you’re not quite sure how much time passes while you two are lost in each other, but eventually Satoru pulls away a bit, and you frown at the loss of contact. After a moment, you hesitantly say, “..Well? What do we do now?” At this, Satoru smirks as he fully pulls away. “Of course, we go back to acting like we did before. Let’s make our dearest friends think their genius ploy to get us together has miserably failed. I always love a good prank, and this’ll be one of the best.” 

Again, you can’t help but chuckle at this. “So you suspected something was up? Yeah, me too. What I’m wondering is how they convinced Nanamin to join in. I genuinely didn’t think Nanami would ever do something like this.” “Remember when we all went to see Geto and him? I bet that at that time, Shoko and Utahime switched up the bowl of chits. That's like the only way possible.” “Nanami must still have been in on it though.”

“The seven minutes are almost up, I think. Right, so I’m gonna go to this wall and you go there, and we’ll pretend we haven’t been talking much. I can bet you they’re eavesdropping on us even right now, but I know from experience that its very hard to actually make the words out. So basically, they won’t know shit.” Amused, you go along with his plan. Except that now its actually embarrassing to act the way you used to, all lovesick at the mere sight of him, and you think he feels the same way from the way he’s blushing slightly.

A minute or two passes, and you’d think it was incredibly awkward, but its actually funny by the way Satoru keeps grinning at you, or says even more dumb pick up lines occasionally. Suddenly, the door bursts open, as if your friends are hoping to catch you in the middle of some heinous act. Imagine their sheer disappointment to see the scene in front of them.

Utahime stomps over to you as you rush out of the room, the way you would have done a day ago. “Well?” she demands forcefully. “Did anything happen?” 

Its so very hard to keep a poker face at her furious expression on hearing the blunt “No.” from you. She mutters something before proceeding to strangle Geto, who was strangling Gojo. Your and Satoru’s eyes meet, and you almost crack up at the mischief sparkling in his eyes- another thing about him that made you fall in love.

Oh well. You’re sure your friends will find out soon, but for now its highly entertaining to watch them at their wit’s end. You smile at Satoru when no one’s looking, and he sends a wink your way.

Bonus:-

Lessons had ended, and Satoru, being the gentleman that he is, came to fetch you from the class. The others were nowhere to be seen, and taking advantage of the moment, Satoru decided to kiss you- no one is here after all. 

Unfortunately, you lose track of time as a screech resounds in the empty and silent class. You two jump away from each other, startled and guilty as charged, while your friends stand at the entrance of the classroom with a betrayed look on their faces. The two parties just stare at each other till Geto finally, slowly asks, “How long?”

You sheepishly respond with the truth, and the look of shock on is just priceless. You sigh internally- Your friends are something, and your now-boyfriend is an entirely different kind of something.

Satoru sticks out his tongue at them before kissing you again, on the cheek this time.

Cue Nanami strangling Gojo. (They all gag, but they’re very relieved.)

Reblogs, Votes and comments are very much appreciated <33

[yourimagines]

Hey again! I loved your content on AngryGinge! I was wondering if you could do fluff content for ArthurTV? If not, it’s completely fine I understand! Thank you! 💕✨

Sorry that this took so long, I officially feel old because I didn’t know who he was 🙈 I’ve done some research on him. (Watching some videos.) I hope you like this one and I’m sorry it’s a shorter one

Podcast

* English is not my first language I apologise

* Gif is not mine

* Triggers: Swearing and fluff

- summary: you have a crush on Arthur

Y/N POV

Arthur asked me if I wanted to join him today on a podcast. A few others where there also like Chip and Calum. “Hey Y/N.” Chip greeted me as I arrived at the studio. “Hi Chip.” We both walked to the rest. Arthur was laughing with Calum. “Oh hey guys.” Arthur smiles at me, smiled shyly back. “You guys ready for today?” Calum asked us all. “Yes always.” Chip said while taking place on the set. “Okay then let’s get started.” Calum walks away to take a seat. Arthur smiles at me. “Let’s join them.” I nodded as we both took a seat. “I’ve never done a podcast.” “Don’t worry, Arthur will help you.” Chip laughs as Arthur pushed Calum. “Oh shut it.” I shyly looked at the microphone as the guys laughed about it.

“So we all seen the new movie talk to me right?” I shook my head. “No I haven’t.” “Why not?! It’s the best horror movie from this year.” Chip said to me. “Because I get scared easily, I don’t want to see a horror movie in the cinema, I wait till I can see it at home.” Calum laughs as Chip shook his head disappointed. “I can’t believe you….” I shrugged my shoulders. “Sorry I guess.” Arthur smiles at me. “We can watch it together then, I haven’t seen it either.” Calum gasped. “No way, come on guys..” “oh shut it Calum. Y/N and I will watch it together and then we come back to this topic again.” Chip starts to whistle, I blushed as Calum wiggled his eyebrows. “Yeah… watching the movie my ass.” Arthur laughs and shook his head. “Of course what else.” Chip made a kissing face. I was red as a tomato and hide my face. “Oh look at her!” Calum yells. “This is so not fair, you guys are making it weird.” I said into the microphone. “We?! Nahh you guys are so oblivious… just go on a date already.” I looked shyly over to Arthur who was smiling at me. “Only if you want” I nodded. “Yes, do you want it?” He nods. “Yeah for awhile to be honest.” I giggled at him. “Okay cool.” Chip and Calum high-fived each other. “Yess we did it again.” Arthur and I laughed at them. “Okay let’s move on…”

—— a few days later ——

“I heard you went on a date with Arthur.” Harry asked me as we were having lunch. “Yes, did you saw that video with chip and Calum.” “Yeah, you where embarrassed…” I nodded and sighed. “Yeah I’m still are.” “Why you like him and he likes you too.” “How do you know that maybe he’s just being nice and didn’t want me to be more embarrassed.” He shrugged his shoulders. “I don’t know, he does talks a lot about you when you’re not around. He smiles a lot when he sees or mentions you.” “Really?” He nods and took a bite from his food. “Yeah its getting annoying.” I hummed and took a bite from my food.

I was making a video with Harry as he got a call. “It’s Arthur.” I looked surprised as he answers the call. He made a silent movement to me as he puts him on speaker. “Hey Harry.” “Hello mate how’s going.” He smiles at me. “Good, I actually calling you about Y/N.” We both looked at each other. “Oh yeah, what’s about it.” “Well I’ve been on a date with her, was super nice but I don’t know if she wants to go on another one.” I smiled as Harry winked at me. “Ask her out then.” “You think she would love that.” “Mate you both like each other so yeah why not.” He gave me a thumbs up. “Yeah you right. Thanks Harry.” “No problem.” Arthur hangs up as Harry and I laughed. “See he totally likes you.” Then I heard my phone going off. I looked at my phone and saw Arthur’s name. “Oh my god.” “Pick it up your idiot.” I quickly answered the phone, putting him on speaker. “Hi Arthur.” “Hey Y/N, how you’re doing?” “I’m good, how are you.” Harry wiggled his eyebrows. “Good.. I was wondering if you want to go out on a second date.” I smiled brightly to my phone. “Yes I would love too.” “Really?! Uhh okay is tomorrow night fine with you?” “Yes that would be lovely.” “Okay cool. I’ll text you for the actual time… I see ya tomorrow then.” “Yes I see you tomorrow.” “Okay bye..” “bye…” he hung up and I did a happy dance. Harry laughs and joins me. “Oh my good Harry, I’m so nervous.” “Why you heard him he likes you, don’t chicken out now.” “I’m not just nervous about this.” I signalled with my hands around us. “It will be alright, you guys are totally in love, it’s makes me almost sick tho.” I pushed his arm. “Don’t be mean now.” “Hey I’m just saying..” we both laughed about it and started the video again.

—— date night ——

We where at a mini golf arcade. Arthur was winning the game. “Ugh not fair.” He laughs as my ball missed the hole. “It’s okay, you did your best.” He patted on my shoulder as I throw the ball in. “I’m hungry let’s eat something.” He nods and grabbed the golf stick. “Let me carry these to the counter.” I smiled and gave it to him. He walks over and gives them to the young girl behind the counter. She smiles and checks him out. ‘The disrespect of her.’ He waves and walks over to me. “Okay done, let’s eat something now.” We both walked next to each other to the food court. Our hands brushing slightly against each other’s. I got a light blush on my cheeks as we walked in.

“So favourite game.” I started to think. “Favourite game, I think at the moment party animals..” he nods. “Yeah that’s a fun one.” “What about you?” “Uhh I don’t know, I like a lot to be honest.” I nodded and took a sip from my drink. “I hope we can do this more often..” he looked at me with his beautiful smile on his face. I started to get shy and smiled. “I hope so too.” He carefully grabs my hand. “I like you for a while now, I hope you feel the same about me.” “Yes I do..” he squeezed my hand slightly. “I hate it that they were right about us, imagine all the bullying.” I groaned. “Oh yes especially from Chip and Calum.” We both laughed. “I hate them already.” ��Yes me too, I can see the looks on their faces already.” He laughs and nods. “We need to protect each other from them, I have your back if your have mine.” “Don’t worry Arthur I have your back 100%.” He pulls my hand to his face and slightly kissed it. “Thank you..” I blushed at him. “No problem.” We both sat there for a few more minutes. Smiling at each other as two crazy love birds who just confessed their feelings.

[calumfmu]

steve finding out reader is expecting twins and being utterly panicked, like he needs to go see robin and eddie to talk him down because he is freaking out

Ahhhhhh I love this!!! (you know the TikTok sound 'oh my goodness I love this questiionnnnn, I think-' yeah thats me right now). 857 words cw: swearing, loser!Steve trying to get his groove back,

An ice pack was pressed to his head, Robin's chipped nail polish covered fingers holding it in place. She was mumbling something, freaking out as she stumbled over her panic, 'maybe we should call 911'.

Eddie was laughing, cold beer in one hand as he took in the sight before him. Robin taking deep breaths to calm herself down, interchangeably pressing the ice to herself and Steve, while he groaned every time it was taken away from him. A dark bruise was forming on his forehead from where he passed out in your living room.

"Isn't this the shit you've always been talking about?" Eddie asked, taking a swig of his drink.

Steve closed his eyes, a deep breath leaving him. Robin yelped, shaking his shoulder.

"Stay awake, Steve!" She hurried, squatting in front of him. Steve peeked open an eye, rolling it at her.

"I'm fine, Robin," he said, wincing at the pressure he was feeling. "Yes and no, yes because I love her and I want a soccer team-"

"Damn army at that."

"Eddie. Please," He continued, taking the pack from Robin's fingers. "I'm just going to be fucking terrible at it."

"Steve, those damn kids love you," she supplied, taking his wrist in her hand, presumably to check his vitals. "You run your own babysitting service practically, and you're amazing at it, hey, you might get your ass kicked every now and then, but they're all alive."

"Not helping," he winced, snatching his wrist from her. Eddie leaned forward in his chair, handing a lit cigarette towards the younger man. Steve would normally complain about him smoking indoors, but for right now, it was everything he needed.

"She's right, Steve," he said, watching as Steve took a long drag, shoulders relaxing at the hit. "Those kids will swear up and down that you're the best god damn thing to happen to them, whether you like it or not. You're made for this."

Steve shook his head, coughing as the hit went down the wrong pipe. "No, no, no. Man, I couldn't even get into college, and here I am, working at a movie store, with twins! Twins! Two babies! On their way!"

Eddie laughed at his urgency, reclining as he looked up at the ceiling of the Harrington home. He took a look around, humming as he found it spacious.

"I think a crib will fit perfectly right there," he pointed towards a corner, closing one eye as he envisioned it. Steve whined, sinking into the couch even further.

"My dad's going to kill me," he muttered, putting the palms of his hands over his eyes. He was never a religious man, but in this moment, he felt God in his presence. "Fuck, what if I'm like my dad? I'm going to be so shit at this, she's gonna leave me. Oh my God, I'm going to be a single dad."

"Steve!" Robin grabbed his shoulders, shaking them as he lolled his head to look at her. "Snap out of it, okay?"

Steve nodded, his bottom lip jutting out as he moped. His eyes were wide, watering slightly as he envisioned the next few months, no years, decades of his life changing.

"You're going to be the best god damn dad out there, alright? You may be a Harrington, but you're not gonna be like him," Robin held eye contact, sincere as she pressed a hand to his chest. "She loves you. You love her. The two of you are like a match made in heaven."

Eddie hummed in agreement, turning so his feet hung off the side of the lounge chair. "Or hell, if you want to look at it like that."

Robin cut him a look, gaze firm.

"Okay fine, you're made for each other, alright? There couldn't be a better duo than the two of you, and you'd need to be completely senseless to not see that," he reached out, fingers spread as he expected the cigarette back. "Trust me when I say, I think you're going to be perfect at this. You may think it's the wrong timing, but I mean, it happened for a reason."

Steve nodded, looking in between the two of them. He began to feel hopeful, figuring his two friends wouldn't lead him astray when it came to this.

"What if I am bad at it though? Even if I try?" His voice was small, fear etched into it. Robin placed a hand on his knee, squeezing lightly.

"No one's good at it, especially for the first time. What matters is trying and just being there," she said, patting at him. "Now get the hell up. Give her a call, apologize for being terrible and leaving her at her house, and make it work, Harrington."

Steve looked towards Eddie, who smiled and nodded as he agreed. Slowly standing up, he felt less shaky in his movements, redeveloping the muscle he felt he had lost earlier.

Eddie gave a toothy grin as Steve crossed the room, giddy in his steps as he made his way towards the house phone. "Just wrap it up next time, Harrington."

"Eddie!"

Masterlist! Inbox and requests are open! <3

[hysteria-things]

✿ PROMISE? ✿ PART ONE.

ʚ♡ɞ 𝐋𝐀𝐒𝐓 | 𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓 | 𝐏𝐋𝐀𝐘𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓 | 𝐍𝐄𝐗𝐓 ʚ♡ɞ

𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: chris x fem!reader

𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: guess who’s back in town: the sturniolo triplets. it’s for their birthday party their parents are throwing, the same party your parents force you to go to.

𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: swearing

𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 1,054

𝐚𝐮𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐫'𝐬 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞: we’re locked in on the series, folks!

𝐘𝐎𝐔 𝐂𝐀𝐍’𝐓 𝐆𝐎 𝐀 𝐃𝐀𝐘 without seeing something along the lines of the sturniolo triplets, and it fucking pisses you off. your parents went to high school with theirs and were really close. your mom got pregnant with you around the same time marylou got pregnant with the triplets, your “best friends.”

the same triplets that left you months ago because of their career of being youtubers. the least they could’ve done was still message you, but no. they unfollowed you on everything.

you texted them multiple times, but all you got was one-word answers or no answer at all. as much as you didn’t want to, you stopped trying after a while because it was no use.

your parents still hang out with marylou and jimmy, sometimes even justin when he’s in town. at least you got one more best friend that you grew up with, nathan doe.

nathan is the youngest out of the four of you. nick, matt, and chris are turning twenty tomorrow and nate’s turning nineteen on the ninth. you’ve been nineteen since april, so you’re right in the middle.

you guys met him in elementary school and he was the last piece of the puzzle. you guys were even called the FOREVER FIVE, something you all made up at a sleepover in the fourth grade.

of course the three stooges didn’t drop him when they left. favoritism, i guess.

you scroll angrily on tiktok. it’s like the app senses your hatred for them and decides to put edits or clips from their videos on your for you page. this shit is definitely not for you.

then, there’s a knock on your bedroom door. “come in.” you call out, and your mother comes in. she sits on your bed and sighs. “what’s up?” you ask.

she gives you a face of sympathy, and it scares you a little. “the triplets are back in town.” she starts, and that gains your attention. “and i want you to come with me and your father to their birthday party tomorrow.”

“no.” you flat-out say. it’s no secret that your mom knows about your hatred either since you cried to her for a week straight about how they abandoned you.

“y/n, please.” your mom puts a hand on your knee. “marylou would love to see you there. she asks about you, you know. she misses you.”

frowning, you start to think. you miss her too. you never blamed her for what her sons did, but you haven’t seen her since they left. she is the sweetest lady you’ve ever met. “and they’re celebrating nate’s birthday, too. you have to at least show up for him, okay?”

you exhale sharply. “okay.”

⋆⁺₊⋆ ✿ ⋆⁺₊⋆

𝐘𝐎𝐔 𝐏𝐔𝐋𝐋 𝐔𝐏 𝐓𝐎 𝐓𝐇𝐄 party the next day with your parents, making your way to the backyard where it’s held. not a lot of people are there, just close friends and family. you scan the area at the top of the steps for nathan, getting disappointed when you don’t see him.

marylou engulfs you in a hug the moment you step on the grass. “hello, sweetheart!” she exclaims, pulling away with a big smile on her face. she places her hands on your shoulders. “how are you doing? you feeling okay?”

“i’m doing fine!” you reply in the same tone, putting on a fake smile.

“thank you so much for coming. i know it’s been a little… strange for you for the past few months. i’m sorry about that.”

“please don’t apologize. you did nothing wrong,” you say and she pulls you back in for another hug.

“if you want, the boys are standing by the chips and dip. if not, don’t be afraid to make yourself comfortable.” she points to the numerous folding tables set up.

god, you missed this woman. “i will. thank you so much.”

you walk over to the table where your parents are, placing your things down before joining them.

“twenty years old is fucking disgusting.” nick rants, dipping a chip in onion dip and popping it into his mouth.

the other two giggle. “yeah, well—” chris pauses when he turns his head and lands eyes on someone. “holy shit, guys.” he taps both of his brothers on the arm.

“look.” he continues, pointing at you from across the way when he gets his sibling’s attention. “we have to talk to her.”

“chris, no.” matt says. “do you not know that she hates us? it was shitty, what we did. that’s honestly my biggest regret.”

“we are petty losers for that.” nick chimes in.

chris crosses his arms. he would do anything to get you back into his life. there was no specific reason why they did what they did. they ghosted a lot of old friends ever since they moved to LA, and you got unlucky. “fine. if you guys won’t, i will. i want to get my best friend back.”

“chris, wait! that’s not a good idea!” the two scream at him as he starts to march over to you, who’s now pouring pepsi into a red solo cup.

you gasp out of shock when you turn around and see a brunette towering over you. “hi.” he says lowly. “i didn’t think you’d come.”

“i came for nate.” you say coldly. “where is he?”

“he has to do something before he comes.” you move over to start walking, but he steps in front of you.

“chris—”

“i’m so fucking sorry.” he apologizes. “we miss you.”

“should’ve thought of that before you woke up one day and decided to pretend i didn’t exist.”

his heart aches at your words. the three of them really are assholes. “can we just start over? please?”

“start over?” you scoff. “we can’t start over after all of that. i practically known you since birth, and you want to start over?”

“y/n, i’m—”

you peek over his shoulder and cut him off. “nate’s here.” you eventually get out of his way and start to head over to nate, but stop and turn back around.

there’s a hint of hope in chris that you changed your mind, but he was wrong. “i kept the note.”

he furrows his eyebrows. “what note?”

ouch.

you laugh to yourself. of course, he doesn’t remember. “never mind. happy birthday.” you mumble, walking off into the crowd.

𝐭𝐚𝐠 𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭!

@bunbunbl0gs @lexisecretaccx @thy-mission @angelic-sturniolos111 @sophssturn @mattsneezing @janiellasblog @blahbel668 @meg-sturniolo @hearts4chris @mattslolita @sturnbaby @imwetforyourmom @tillies33ssss @sturnifyed @mayhem-72 @ripmattitude @p1xieswrld @alorsxsturn @txssvx @sttzee @multiluvr @delilahprentiss @matthewsspecial @idkhowtosleep @sturniolho