#I’m having the best time with how this turned out???

[cherryxbooo]

I’ll do anything to make you happy

Summary: You were excited for winter break to start because it meant one thing: spending more time with Lando. But little did you know, that was the one thing you wouldn't be getting.

Reader x Lando Norris

Genre: fluff/angst

Winter always held a special kind of charm for me.

The frosty mornings, cozy blankets, and steaming cups of cocoa had always made this season my favorite.

But this year, it held a different promise: Lando finally had a break from racing.

After months of hectic schedules, jet-setting across the globe, and stolen moments in between races, I was looking forward to having him all to myself.

At first, it was everything I’d imagined and more.

We spent lazy mornings tangled in bed, with me teasing him about his messy hair while he pulled me closer, claiming I was his personal heater.

Breakfasts turned into brunches because we couldn’t stop talking or joking around.

We watched movies, baked cookies that turned out terrible, and played endless rounds of Mario Kart, which I always managed to win.

“You’re only winning because I’m letting you,” Lando said one evening, his grin teasing as he tossed the controller onto the couch.

“Sure you are,” I replied, laughing as I grabbed my victory snack from the table.

Those first few days felt like we were in our own little world, where nothing else mattered but us.

But soon, reality began creeping in.

It started innocently enough.

“Babe, Max just called,” Lando said one morning, leaning against the counter with his coffee mug in hand.

“He’s organizing a karting session. Shouldn’t take long.”

I smiled, my heart swelling with pride.

Racing was his passion, and I loved seeing him happy. “Go have fun. Just don’t let him beat you.”

“Never,” he said with a wink, kissing my temple quickly before heading out.

That day, I didn’t mind the quiet. I worked on some projects, caught up with friends, and even took a long bath.

By the time he got home, his cheeks were flushed with cold, and he couldn’t stop talking about how much fun he’d had.

But karting soon turned into golf.

Golf turned into poker nights. And poker nights turned into outings that stretched late into the night.

“I’ll be back soon,” he’d text, always with a heart emoji. But “soon” became later and later each time.

I told myself it was fine. He deserved this break.

He’d worked so hard all year, and if spending time with his friends helped him unwind, who was I to complain?

But as the days wore on, the house began to feel emptier, and so did I.

One evening, I decided to surprise him with his favorite dinner.

I spent hours in the kitchen, setting the table with candles and dimming the lights for a cozy atmosphere.

When Lando walked through the door, his expression softened as he took in the setup.

“You didn’t have to do all this,” he said, wrapping his arms around me.

“I wanted to,” I replied, smiling up at him.

“You’ve been so busy, and I thought it’d be nice to have a quiet night together.”

“That’s so sweet,” he said, leaning down to kiss me.

“But the guys are waiting for me. I promised I’d meet them for drinks tonight. Let’s rain check this?”

My smile faltered, but I nodded. “Of course.”

He kissed me again and was out the door before I could say anything more.

I sat down at the table, staring at the empty chair across from me.

The candles flickered, their light reflecting off the untouched plates. I took a deep breath, telling myself it was okay.

But deep down, a tiny crack had formed in my heart.

Days turned into weeks, and the cracks only deepened.

Lando’s absence became more noticeable, and I began to feel like a ghost in our own home.

One evening, after scrolling through endless photos of him with his friends on Instagram, I called Mia, my best friend.

“What’s wrong?” she asked the moment she picked up.

I sighed, the weight of my emotions pressing down on me.

“It’s Lando. He’s been spending so much time with his friends lately, and I feel like I’m… invisible.”

Mia was quiet for a moment before saying, “Y/N, you’re not invisible. But you need to talk to him. He’s not a mind reader.”

“I don’t want to seem clingy,” I admitted, my voice barely above a whisper.

“You’re not clingy. You’re his girlfriend. He should want to spend time with you. Talk to him.”

Her words gave me the push I needed. That night, when Lando came home, I gathered my courage.

“Can we talk?” I asked, my heart pounding in my chest.

“Of course,” he said, sitting down next to me.

I took a deep breath.

“I’ve been feeling… neglected lately. I know you’re enjoying your break, and I want you to have fun, but I miss us. I miss you.”

He frowned, reaching for my hand.

“Babe, I’m sorry if it feels that way. But I’m here now, aren’t I?”

I nodded, but his words didn’t ease the ache in my chest. Before I could say more, he kissed me and stood up.

“Max needs help with something,” he said, grabbing his keys. “Love you!”

And just like that, he was gone. Again.

I tried my best to push away all negative thoughts until I thought about the positive ones.

Our second anniversary was just days away, and I held onto the hope that he’d make it special.

I told myself the late nights didn’t matter. He was probably planning something incredible for our anniversary.

The next day,

The morning light filtered through the curtains, painting the room in soft golden hues.

I stretched lazily, a content smile curling my lips as I reached across the bed.

My fingers met cold sheets. The space beside me was empty.

I frowned, the giddy excitement I had woken up with faltering.

Today was our second anniversary.

I had imagined waking up wrapped in Lando’s arms, whispering sleepy “Happy anniversary” wishes before sharing breakfast together.

Instead, he was gone.

I also realized that I hadn't heard him come back last night.

He told me he was just helping Max out with something, but he probably went out partying with his friends afterward, again.

I tried to shake off the disappointment as I climbed out of bed, brushing my hair out of my face.

Maybe he had planned a surprise and needed to step out early.

A flutter of hope lifted my spirits as I grabbed my robe and headed toward the kitchen.

The scent of coffee greeted me, but there was no sign of Lando.

Instead, on the counter, I found a note written in his familiar scrawl:

“Gone golfing with the guys. Be back later. Love you.”

My heart sank. Golfing? On our anniversary?

I swallowed the lump rising in my throat, trying to focus on the fact that he had said he’d be back later.

He wouldn’t forget our dinner, right?

We’d planned this evening together weeks ago, and I’d been looking forward to it ever since.

I folded the note and placed it aside, telling myself not to overthink it. He would be back in time.

He promised.

After a quick breakfast, I set to work preparing for the evening.

My heart thudded with a mix of excitement and nervousness as I laid out my plans.

Lando had been so busy lately, and this was my chance to remind him how much I loved him, despite everything.

I spent hours in the kitchen, cooking all his favorite dishes: his go-to pasta, a roasted chicken dish he always requested, and even the dessert I’d failed at three times before finally perfecting.

The smells of herbs, garlic, and chocolate filled the apartment, making it feel warm and inviting.

Between stirring pots and chopping vegetables, I took breaks to set up the dining table.

I draped it with a soft cream tablecloth, adding candles and a scattering of rose petals for a romantic touch.

Fairy lights hung along the walls, casting a cozy glow that made the space feel magical.

On the counter, I carefully placed his gift, a sleek watch he had admired months ago but never bought for himself.

Not forgetting to attach a handwritten note to the box.

With everything ready, I checked the clock.

It was almost evening. So I had to hurry up to get ready.

I slipped into the dress I had chosen weeks ago, a soft, fitted number I knew he loved on me.

My makeup was simple yet elegant, and I added the finishing touch, a spritz of the perfume Lando had gifted me for my last birthday.

I felt beautiful, excited, and nervous all at once as I sat on the couch, watching the clock.

Five minutes passed. Then ten.

By the time twenty minutes had gone by, I grabbed my phone, texting him a quick, “Hey, are you on your way?”

No response.

An hour later, I texted again. Then called. Still nothing.

My excitement turned into a gnawing worry that sat heavy in my chest.

Where was he? Had he forgotten?

Two hours passed.

The candles on the table had burned down halfway, their flickering flames reflecting off the now-cold plates of food.

The fairy lights, once magical, now felt like mockery.

Finally, three hours later, I gave up.

Tears stung my eyes as I blew out the candles, packed away the food, and removed my dress, exchanging it for soft pajamas.

My makeup was smeared with tears by the time I climbed into bed.

I grabbed my phone one last time, and my heart shattered when I saw the Instagram story.

It was one of Lando’s friends, showing a clip of him laughing, drink in hand, surrounded by his friends.

He looked happy. Carefree.

And completely oblivious that tonight was our anniversary.

The tears came faster, hot and uncontrollable. I buried my face in the pillow, the ache in my chest overwhelming.

I had been so sure he’d come back, that he’d remember. But I was wrong.

Later that night,

The apartment was cloaked in silence when Lando opened the front door, the click of the lock echoing faintly in the stillness.

He stumbled inside the weight of exhaustion and faint traces of guilt tugging at his chest.

The soft glow of the streetlights outside illuminated the darkened space just enough for him to make out his surroundings.

Something felt… off.

He reached for the light switch, and as the room was bathed in warm light, his eyes landed on the dining table across from him.

He froze.

The table was beautifully decorated, candles placed strategically, now melted into small stubs, surrounded by rose petals that had been artfully scattered.

Plates of food were neatly covered with lids to keep them from going bad, but even from a distance, Lando could tell they were his favorites.

He took a tentative step forward, his stomach sinking further with each movement.

Resting near the center of the table was a small, wrapped box with a note attached to it.

The sight made his chest tighten, a creeping realization clawing at the edges of his mind.

His fingers trembled as he picked up the note. Unfolding it carefully, he read the words in her familiar handwriting:

"To my Lando, the best thing that ever happened to me. Thank you for being my partner, my love, my everything. Happy anniversary, baby. Love, Y/N."

The words hit him like a punch to the gut. His heart sank as the full weight of the evening’s significance crashed over him.

Anniversary. He’d forgotten their second anniversary.

Lando stood there, the note still clutched in his hand, his throat tightening as shame washed over him.

He thought back to the past few weeks, to the times he’d brushed you off or come home late without so much as an explanation.

He couldn’t even recall the last time you two spent real, quality time together.

You had tried to talk to him about it, about how you felt neglected, and he had dismissed your concerns every single time.

Now, standing there amidst the evidence of your effort and love, he felt like the worst boyfriend in the world.

Lando exhaled shakily, running a hand through his hair as regret threatened to overwhelm him.

He couldn’t blame anyone but himself.

He glanced around the room, noticing how quiet it was. He knew you were asleep.

His eyes landed on his phone, dead from the night’s events.

With a heavy sigh, he plugged it into the charger, pacing nervously as he waited for it to turn back on.

When it finally lit up, the screen was flooded with notifications, missed calls and unread messages from Y/N.

The time stamps told the story of your evening:

“Hey, are you on your way?” - 8 p.m. “I’m waiting for you… everything’s ready.” -8:30 p.m. “Lando, please call me.” -9 p.m. “Are you okay? I’m starting to worry.” -10 p.m.

The last message was hours old, her tone shifting from hopeful to concerned.

Each notification felt like another jab to his heart, the guilt almost unbearable.

He dropped his phone onto the counter and made his way toward their shared bedroom.

Pushing the door open quietly, he stepped into the dimly lit room.

His gaze immediately found her curled up under the covers, her face half-buried in the pillow.

His breath hitched when he noticed the faint streaks on her cheeks, traces of tears she hadn’t been able to hide.

The sight made his heart clench painfully. She’d cried herself to sleep, and it was his fault.

Lando approached the bed slowly, kneeling beside her as he took in her tear-streaked face.

She looked so peaceful yet so vulnerable, her chest rising and falling softly with each breath.

Guilt swirled in his chest as he reached out, brushing a strand of hair away from her face.

“I’m so sorry, baby,” he whispered, his voice barely audible, thick with regret.

Leaning down, he pressed a gentle kiss to her temple, lingering for a moment as if hoping it could somehow convey all the apologies he couldn’t say while she was awake.

His thumb grazed her cheek, and he sighed deeply.

“You didn’t deserve this,” he murmured, his voice breaking.

“I’ve been such an ass… the worst boyfriend. I’ll make it up to you, I promise. I love you so much.”

She stirred slightly at his touch but didn’t wake.

Lando watched her for a moment longer before standing, his mind racing with plans to fix what he’d broken.

Tomorrow, he vowed, would be all about her.

The next morning, I woke up with a dull ache in my chest, my body heavy from the night before.

My eyes were sore and puffy from crying myself to sleep.

I glanced at the empty side of the bed, already prepared for the familiar sting of disappointment.

Figured he’d leave again before I woke up, I thought bitterly.

Dragging myself out of bed, I moved to the bathroom to freshen up.

The cold water on my face didn’t do much to wash away the exhaustion or the emotional weight from the previous night.

With a sigh, I tied my hair back and made my way downstairs, expecting another day of hurt to unfold.

Halfway down the stairs, though, something unusual stopped me in my tracks.

The smell of coffee, rich and inviting, wafted through the air.

There was another scent too, pancakes? My brow furrowed in confusion.

"That can’t be right. Lando doesn’t cook... does he? Who am i kidding he can't even boil eggs."

I cautiously descended the rest of the stairs, each step filling me with equal parts curiosity and hesitation.

As I rounded the corner into the kitchen, I froze at the sight before me.

There he was, standing by the stove, flipping a pancake with a focused but slightly clumsy determination.

Plates of food lined the table, croissants, fresh fruit, juice, and what looked like store-bought pastries.

It didn’t take long to figure out most of the spread wasn’t homemade, but the effort was unmistakably his.

“Morning, love,” Lando greeted me, his tone soft and tentative, his lips curling into a nervous smile.

I raised an eyebrow, my arms crossing instinctively. “What’s all this?”

He put the spatula down and stepped closer, wiping his hands on a kitchen towel.

“It’s breakfast... and an apology,” he said, his voice earnest.

My eyes flickered between him and the spread on the table.

I could see he was trying, but the hurt from last night still lingered like a heavy cloud over my chest.

“Come sit,” he said gently, pulling a chair out for me.

I hesitated for a moment before sitting down, my arms still crossed defensively.

Lando grabbed a plate, placing a pancake in front of me before adding a small pile of fruit and a croissant on the side.

I eyed him suspiciously as he poured me a cup of coffee, then sat across from me.

“What are you doing, Lando?” I asked, my voice tinged with a mix of confusion and frustration.

He leaned forward, resting his elbows on the table as he met my gaze.

“I messed up, Y/N. Big time. And I need you to know how sorry I am.” His voice was steady but filled with regret.

I stayed silent, waiting for him to continue.

“Last night,” he began, his brows furrowing,

“I forgot our anniversary. I forgot the one day I should’ve been making you feel like the most important person in the world. And it’s not just last night, I’ve been neglecting you for weeks. You told me how you felt, and I brushed it off like an idiot.”

His voice cracked slightly as he spoke, and I could see the weight of his guilt etched into every line on his face.

“I’ve been selfish, caught up in my own world, and I didn’t see how much I was hurting you. You deserve so much better than that, Y/N. Better than me.”

I felt my throat tighten as his words sank in. The sincerity in his tone chipped away at the walls I’d put up.

“I was so hurt, Lando,” I said, my voice trembling.

“I waited for you all night. I planned everything because I thought… I thought you’d come home and we’d celebrate together. I stayed up, hoping you’d walk through that door with a smile, ready to tell me how much you love me. But you didn’t.”

Tears pricked my eyes as I continued.

“I saw that video of you and your friends. You were laughing and having fun while I sat here, alone, on what was supposed to be our night.”

Lando’s face fell, his hands gripping the edge of the table as if grounding himself from the weight of my words.

“I know,” he whispered.

“And I hate myself for it. Seeing what you did for me last night, the decorations, the food, the note. I realized just how much I’ve been taking you for granted. I never want you to feel that way again, Y/N. You’re the most important thing in my life. I need you to believe that.”

He reached into his pocket and pulled out a small box, sliding it across the table to me.

“What’s this?” I asked, my voice softer now, though my heart still carried the sting of last night.

“Open it,” he urged.

I carefully lifted the lid, revealing a delicate necklace with a sparkling pendant.

The intricate design caught the morning light, making it shimmer.

“Lando…” I trailed off, overwhelmed.

“It’s not enough to make up for what I’ve done,” he said quickly,

“but it’s a start. And today, it’s all about you. Whatever you want to do, wherever you want to go, we’ll do it.”

I stared at the necklace for a moment before meeting his eyes.

“It’s beautiful,” I said, my voice thick with emotion. “Thank you.”

“But,” I added, my tone firm, “this doesn’t mean I’ve fully forgiven you yet.”

“I know,” he said, nodding.

“And I don’t expect you to. But I’ll spend every day proving to you how much I care, how much I love you. I won’t stop until you believe me again.”

The determination in his voice made my chest tighten.

I wanted to hold onto my anger, to make him feel the depth of my hurt, but seeing him now, vulnerable, regretful, and desperate to make things right.

I couldn’t help but feel the smallest crack in my resolve.

As the morning unfolded, Lando’s sincerity shone through.

He insisted on clearing the table and cleaning up, stealing small glances at me as if trying to gauge my mood.

I wasn’t ready to let go of all the hurt just yet, but for the first time in weeks, I felt a glimmer of hope.

Maybe, just maybe, we could find our way back to each other.

The morning's heartfelt apology set the tone for what became one of the most memorable days Lando and I had spent together in weeks.

While I was still guarded, I couldn’t deny that he was trying, really trying, to make things right.

As I got ready to leave the house, he was already by my side, holding my hand, his other arm slung casually around my shoulder.

“I promised today would be all about you,” he said, giving me that signature soft smile.

“So, where to first?”

We started with a trip to the mall. At first, I felt a little awkward, hesitant to fully enjoy the experience.

But Lando was like a lovesick puppy, following me from store to store, holding my bags, and insisting I buy anything that caught my eye.

“Do you like this dress?” I asked, holding up a flowy sundress against myself.

“I love it,” he said without hesitation. “But I’d probably love anything on you.”

I rolled my eyes at his smooth comment but couldn’t help the blush creeping up my cheeks. “You’re just saying that.”

“Nope,” he replied, grabbing the dress and adding it to the pile of things he’d insisted on buying.

From clothes to accessories, he didn’t say no to anything.

When I protested, saying he was spending too much, he brushed it off.

“I’d spend everything on you, Y/N,” he said with such sincerity it made my heart ache.

Afterward, he took me to my favorite café for lunch.

The cozy little place was one we often went to in the early days of our relationship, and the nostalgia hit me hard as we sat down.

“I missed this,” I admitted as I sipped my coffee.

“Me too,” Lando said, reaching across the table to hold my hand.

“And I’m going to make sure we never lose this again.”

Next, he surprised me with a visit to a local pottery studio.

I couldn’t help but laugh when Lando struggled to shape a vase, the clay slipping through his fingers.

“Okay, you’re supposed to keep your hands steady,” I teased, leaning over to guide him.

“Oh, so now you’re an expert?” he joked, though his grin softened as I showed him how to shape the clay.

It was messy, chaotic, and perfect.

By the end, we both had clay smudged on our faces, and we were laughing like we hadn’t in weeks.

From there, we stopped at a flower shop.

Lando picked out the biggest bouquet of my favorite flowers, holding it out to me with a boyish grin.

“For you,” he said, like it was the most natural thing in the world.

“You’re really pulling out all the stops today, aren’t you?” I teased, though my heart swelled as I buried my nose in the fragrant blooms.

“Only the best for my girl,” he replied, his tone playful but his eyes serious.

For the rest of the day, he didn’t leave my side.

He held my hand as we walked through the streets, his arm draped protectively around me whenever we stopped to rest.

He peppered me with kisses at every opportunity; on my cheek, my forehead, my temple.

“You’re being extra clingy today,” I said with a small laugh as he pulled me into another hug.

“Making up for lost time,” he murmured, his chin resting on the top of my head.

Bit by bit, the walls I’d built around my heart began to crumble.

His efforts felt genuine, and I found myself smiling more easily, the hurt from the night before slowly fading into the background.

By the time we got home, the sun was setting, painting the sky in soft shades of pink and orange.

We were both tired but happy as we curled up on the couch together.

Lando tucked me under his arm, his fingers gently tracing patterns on my shoulder.

“Y/N,” he said after a long moment of silence.

His tone was serious, and I looked up at him curiously.

“Yeah?”

“I need to say this again because you deserve to hear it,” he began, his voice steady but filled with emotion.

“I’m so sorry for everything, for neglecting you, for forgetting our anniversary, for making you feel like you weren’t my priority. You are my priority, Y/N. You’re the best thing in my life, and I hate that I made you feel otherwise.”

His words hit me straight in the chest, and I felt tears pricking at the corners of my eyes.

“I know I hurt you,” he continued, his hand cupping my cheek as he looked into my eyes.

“But I swear, I’ll spend every day proving how much I love you. I’ll never let you feel like that again.”

My heart felt full as I reached up to hold his hand.

“You’ve done a lot for me today, Lando,” I said softly.

“And it’s helped. I can see how much you mean it.”

“So... does that mean you forgive me?” he asked, his tone hopeful but cautious.

I smiled, leaning up to kiss him. “Yeah, I forgive you.”

The relief on his face was almost comical, and he immediately began peppering my face with kisses, my cheeks, my forehead, my nose, even the corners of my lips.

“Thank you, thank you, thank you,” he murmured between kisses, his joy infectious.

Just when I thought the day was over, Lando suddenly sat up.

“Wait, I have one last thing,” he said, standing and disappearing into the other room.

I frowned, confused, as he returned with a small envelope in hand.

“What is this?” I asked as he handed it to me.

“Open it,” he urged, a playful but nervous glint in his eyes.

I carefully tore open the envelope, and my breath caught as I pulled out two plane tickets.

My eyes widened as I read the destination: Maldives.

“Lando… are you serious?” I asked, my voice trembling with disbelief.

He grinned. “You’ve always said you wanted to go. So, I booked us a two-week stay. Just you and me. No distractions.”

Tears welled in my eyes as I looked at him, overwhelmed.

“You didn’t have to do this…”

“Yes, I did,” he said firmly, pulling me into his arms.

“I’ll do anything to make you happy, Y/N. Anything.”

I hugged him tightly, burying my face in his chest.

“Thank you,” I whispered.

“I love you,” he murmured, pressing a kiss to the top of my head.

“I love you too,” I replied, my voice muffled but sincere.

We settled back into the couch, cuddled up together, the weight of the past few weeks finally lifting.

After a long silence, I broke it with a playful smile.

“If you ever neglect me like that again, I’m breaking up with your ass,” I teased.

Lando laughed, his arms tightening around me. “Fair enough. But don’t worry, I won’t. Not ever again.”

And for the first time in weeks, I believed him.

The end

[bewaryofpity]

NEXT STEP IS LOVE - L. HUGHES

[2.0k] luke brings you to the family skate, surprising his teammates, and the usual “i didn't know you had a girlfriend” comes up, but this time luke has enough of calling you just his best friend.

warnings: none ! just some cute ol' fluff; probably really cringey 😔

a/n: she's a short one, and i’m not really fond of it but here it is anyway. sorry guys :(

“Didn’t know Luke had a girlfriend.”

“That’s because he doesn’t. That is his best friend.”

“Bullshit.” Kovacevic laughed in Jack’s face before turning his head back towards Luke near the bench.

Luke was kind of a private person so the idea of him having a secret girlfriend would have made sense to anyone, especially to the new guys he wasn't close with yet. But when Jack revealed that the girl in front of Luke was simply a friend had to be the biggest lie Kovy ever got told. Because friends don’t look at each other that way.

Luke’s fingers were trembling as he tied the laces of your skates carefully, making sure they weren’t too tight or too loose. He felt nervous having you here with him, which was strange because it wasn’t like you’ve never been around the guys before, but the new season meant new guys too. Which also meant that the same old dreaded question was going to come up at any moment.

“Good?”

You nodded in response before stretching your hands out so Luke could help you up the bench. You were wobbly at first, as he tried to hold back the teasing grin creeping on his lips, definitely not used to being on skates as often as him. 

You slowly made your way onto the ice, clutching his hand like your life depended on it. He couldn’t help but keep his gaze on your concentrated face, cheeks flushed from the chill of the arena as you found your rhythm. He was lost in his thoughts, stomach filling with butterflies when your hands squeezed his tighter. And if it weren’t for the little squeak you left out, he would’ve let you fall.

“Sorry,” he said with no hint of honesty in his voice while you shot him a playful look. 

It wasn’t long before you found your footing and let go of his hands to skate side by side. There weren’t many chances for you to hang out with Luke in these settings. The last time you skated together was when he was still a rookie, and he almost got in trouble too many times for using the rink after hours just to teach you how to skate, but you loved every single moment of it. So when he realized your day off coincided with the family skate, he didn’t hesitate to mention it and you couldn’t wait to be there for him, doing something you know would make him happy.

Though, the only thing that was different from those times was the fact that holding Luke’s hands now had your heart doing funny tricks on you. The newfound warmth that has taken over your body in his presence this past year or so was unexpected and scary because you were well aware what this meant and you couldn’t lose Luke over a stupid crush. 

If only you knew that he too got to a point where hiding his feelings for you was actually painful. He tried everything to spend as much time with you as possible. Faking being too tired to drive back to his place and sleep on your couch, missing optional skates, staying up at night before an away game just to hear your voice, letting you nap and waking you up only to convince you to spend the night at his place because i don’t want you to drive, it’s too dark outside and dangerous. It was all worth it in his eyes. But the ache in his chest everytime he had to leave you was becoming harder to suppress than he thought and he couldn’t take it anymore.

As he tried to grab at your brushing hands, Pesce stopped abruptly in front of you and almost knocked you down in the process. 

“Didn’t know Rusty here had a girlfriend.” He said with a grin before turning his attention to Luke, wiggling his brows in a teasing maner.

“Oh, no, I'm just a friend.”

“Oh.”

“His best… friend, actually.” You tried to smile as sincerely as you could. The question never bothered you before, you two were close enough that such was expected, but the way Luke couldn’t look at you during the exchange with his teammate created a pit in your stomach.  

Before he could take you away from the awkwardness of it all, Cotter skated over too. “Here we go,” mumbled Luke. 

“Meeting the girlfriend without me?” 

“Not the girlfriend apparently.”

"Really?" He asked, his tone skeptical as his eyes flicked between you. "Could’ve fooled me."

Luke groaned, not missing the way his teammates exchanged knowing looks and chuckling under their breaths. He couldn’t really blame his teammates for jumping to conclusions. If he were in their shoes, he might have assumed the same thing, it happened way too often anyway.

He grabbed at your hand and pulled you towards him, skating as far as possible from everyone. Was it really that obvious he liked you? Yet, you were still by his side, seemingly not phazed by the constant nagging and teasing from outsiders about your relationship, which could only mean that you didn’t like him back. 

Luke was tired of all of this and the months he spent burying his feelings for you, convincing himself that your friendship was enough, were all coming down on him now with everyone assuming you were a couple. Feeling heavy, he hoped the family skate came to an end soon.

“You alright?”

“Yeah,” he said, running a hand through his hair. “I’m sorry about them.”

“That’s okay.”

You nodded but didn’t press further, not yet at least. Your hand came to rest around his bicep, seeking his warmth and pretending to need balance as you grew tired. 

The easy rhythm you found earlier was now gone. Luke could tell you were trying to bring yourself comfort by staying close to him, though you kept your gaze on the ground which could only mean you were absorbed in your thoughts. And he hated that it was all his fault, he hated the idea of you thinking he was embarrassed or annoyed by the assumption that you were together. Because he wasn’t, he had dreamed of being your boyfriend more times than he‘d like to admit. And he wanted nothing more than being able to call you his. 

Sensing your exhaustion, he led the way towards the bench to change back into normal shoes. The rink was quieter now, families thinning out. You leaned back, stretching your legs, and looked at him with a small frown on your lips. You didn’t have time to reach down when he brought up one of your feet to untie your skate.

“What’s on your mind, Luke?” 

Luke hesitated, his fingers fumbling with your skate laces. “Nothing.” 

“It’s not nothing, Luke. You’re too quiet, what’s wrong?”

“Does it not bother you when people ask if we’re a couple?”

You blinked at him, startled by the question. It wasn’t what you expected, and for a moment, you didn’t know how to respond. Luke had stopped untying your skate, his hands frozen mid-motion as he waited for your answer. His expression was unreadable, but you could see the tension in his shoulders and the way his jaw tightened.

“Bother me?” You repeated softly, the chill of the rink seemed to seep into your skin, though you weren’t sure if it actually was the cold temperature or the sudden shift in the conversation. “No, not really. I mean, it happens all the time, doesn’t it?”

“Yeah, I guess.” Luke nodded slowly, looking down at your skate again. He resumed working on the laces, but his movements were slower now, almost hesitant. You shifted slightly, your other foot tapping lightly against the rubber mat beneath the bench. 

“Does it bother you?” You tilted your head, watching him carefully. 

Luke let out a quiet sigh and dropped his hands on your leg. “I don’t know.” He admitted. “Sometimes, I guess. Not because of what they think, but… because of what it implies.”

“And what does it imply?” 

You echoed, your voice barely above a whisper. Your heart began to race, the steady rhythm you’d been clinging to slowly slipping away. You couldn’t help but search his face for clues, for anything that might explain the sudden vulnerability in his tone.

Luke hesitated, his green eyes flicking up to meet yours for something — permission, maybe, or courage. And for a moment, he seemed to be weighing his next words, his brows drawing together in a way that made your chest ache. 

“Luke…”

“I like you,” he said, the words tumbling out in a rush, as if he was afraid he’d lose his nerve if he waited any longer. “I’ve liked you for a while now and I’ve been trying so hard to pretend that I don’t. I can’t stand being apart from you, I need you close to the point where I am not my own person anymore. I’m tired of the ache in my chest everytime I have to leave you, not just for roadies, but every time we part ways, it’s like I’m a different person without you that I can't recognize.”

“When they say stuff like that, it just makes it harder because I want it to be true. I want us to be more than just friends. I want to wake up next to you and come home to you every day.”

You blinked, clearly caught off guard. You tried to open your mouth as if to speak, but he pressed on, the words tumbling out like water breaking through a dam. His words started fading in your racing mind. His confession hung in the air heavy and raw, and all of it felt like you’ve been hit by a truck. Luke, your best friend, liked you and you were glad he hadn't stopped talking because, truly, you didn’t know what to say.

Luke’s heart felt like it might burst from his chest, every beat echoing in his ears as he braced himself for rejection, for awkwardness, for the possibility that he’d just ruined everything. The silence that followed when he stopped taking felt like an eternity. And for a moment, you just stared at him, expression unreadable. 

“You don’t have to say anything. I just… wanted you to know.”

You dropped your foot to the ground and scooted closer to him. As he turned to face you, your hand pressed against his cheek and you leaned in to place a delicate kiss on his lips. It was soft, almost hesitant, but it was enough to make Luke freeze. His mind blanked, and for a moment, he wasn’t sure if he’d imagined it. When you pulled back, your face was mere inches from his, your hand still lingering on his cheek. Your cheeks were flushed, though whether from the cold or the weight of the moment, he couldn’t tell.

His heart pounded in his chest as you bit your lip, your hand dropping from his face to rest on your lap. 

“It’s always been you, Luke.” Your gaze met his once more, the blush on his cheeks making him cuter than he ever looked. Luke’s eyes widened, still incredulous even after your kiss. 

“Really?”

“Really.” You smiled, a small, tentative curve of your lips as you nodded.

He leaned forward slightly clearing his throat, his eyes searching yours. “Can I kiss you again?” He asked, voice barely audible.

This time, the kiss wasn’t hesitant or fleeting. It was soft and tender, a promise of everything you both hoped to build together. When you finally pulled apart, your foreheads rested against each other, and for the first time in a long while, everything felt right.

“Hey, lovebird! Tone it down a bit, there’s kids around.”

Luke groaned at one of the guys’ teasing from the other side of the rink, and you laughed at his antics, the weight on your shoulders had finally been lifted off. 

“So… does that mean you’ll be my girlfriend?” You didn’t know your cheeks could flush any more, and smiling at his question, you reached up to brush a stray strand of hair from his face.

“Eh, I’ll have to think about that.”

[skipper1331]

We listen and we don’t judge // Alexia Putellas

a/n: short one

It was all over your foryou page - the 'we listen and we don’t judge' trend. So obviously you had to do it with your girlfriend.

After you had explained the rules to the Barcelona captain, you sat down next to each other at the dining table, your phone recording.

"Hello guys!" you greeted, Alexia greeting in her mother tongue, "today we‘re doing the we listen and don’t judge trend" you explained once again how it works for those who didn‘t know, "and I’m very excited how this turns out" you laughed, grinning at Alexia who held your hand underneath the table.

"Do you want to start, amor?" she asked.

"Yes okay." you thought about it for a moment before you came up with one, "we listen and we don‘t judge"

"Sometimes when you leave the house for training i eat the chocolate bars you get from the physio and when you ask where they are i tell you that you probably ate them already"

Ale chuckled before she answered, "amor, i buy them in the store. I know you like them. Since I’m injury free the physio doesn’t buy them anymore. It was a treat for every step of recovery"

"What? You didn‘t tell me that" you huffed, playfully.

"Yes because you always look so cute with the guilty mischief glint in your eyes when you tell me I ate them"

"Hey!-"

"We listen-" she cut you off, encouraging you to join the end of her sentence "and we don‘t judge" you said in unison.

"Sí, um, sometimes when I look through the newest football footage and you‘re nearby I make sure that you only see the best of me and my skills, so you’re impressed by me." she admitted with a shy smile, tracing patterns of the back of your hand.

leaning over to whisper in her ear, "I’m always impressed by you, don’t worry" before you said, "we listen and we don‘t judge"

"When we‘re going out and I ask if I should drive, I always hope that you say no because I don’t want to drive, I’d rather be the passenger princess with the privileges than the driver."

Alexia looked at you - indeed you often asked if she was sure that she wanted drive and that it wouldn’t be a problem if you sat behind the steering wheel but Alexia always had a feeling. Besides she loved driving you around.

"We listen and we don’t judge"

"When I’m in the supermarket and you ask me to buy something for you and it isn’t on the paper list, I forget about it most of the time. And when you ask where it is and i suddenly remember it, i tell you that the store didn‘t have it" she innocently smiled at you, the judgmental expression on your face obvious.

"Te amo, eh?"

"We listen and we don't judge" you replied.

"When we watch a movie I pretend to fall asleep, so you would carry me to bed"

"You cheeky girl" the midfielder kissed your cheek before her arm went around your shoulder, pulling you a bit closer.

"We listen and we don‘t judge"

"If you try to cook my mother's food, I tell you every time that it tastes delicious, even if sometimes it doesn't taste that good" she said, quickly adding, "because I really appreciate the effort" smiling.

"Yeah, that‘s fair. Your mum is an amazing cook"

With that being said, you continued little game for a bit before you said your good byes to the camera.

"I thought you‘d admit worse things" you said, smiling at the catalan, happy that her statements were harmless. You had seen many horrific statements on the internet which left you shocked and wondering how these people stay in their relationship.

"Why would I, amor? I like being with you and I wouldn’t ever judge you" she said with heart eyes. The girl so in love with you.

And truth to her words, there‘s never been any occasion where she had judged you. She trusted you in everything and besides, mistakes happen too, so why would she judge that? Nobody was perfect, she wasn’t perfect, neither were you. Even though she truly believed that you were the closest thing to perfection.

"Te amo mucho"

[yelenasbraid]

none of the bullshit — joe burrow

summary — you’re an athletic trainer with the bengals. joe’s taken a liking to you.

warnings — fem!reader, fluff, some good ol’ banter, implied smut, language, i sort of know what i’m talking about pls don’t come for me

tags — @wickedfun9 @softburrow @starsinthesky5 @joeburrowshaircurl @joeyfranchise @willowsnook @ebsmind @iosivb9 @blairsworld22 @kazsbrckkers

IT WAS COLD. Earlier, you were begging for the colder weather. The summer heat was no joke, but now, the colder winters were biting. You stood out on the practice field, layered up as best you could, keeping your eye on the players.

You were an athletic trainer for the Bengals, a damn good one you’d add. You had to put up with a lot of bullshit over the past couple of years, especially with a certain quarterback.

flashback to the summer

“This is the third time I’ve done this, Y/N. How is this helping me get anywhere?” Joe was frustrated. You’ve asked him to throw the ball the exact same way, three different times. It was his first time throwing after his injury and you were being cautious.

“You want to get out there and snap your wrist again?” You shot back, the summer heat beating down on the both of you. You didn’t have time for his complaints or his nonsense.

“No, but throwing ten yards isn’t going to do much,”

“You think I’m stupid? I know that. It’s called we’ll get there,” you chirped. His attitude was warranted, only sometimes. He saw the light at the end of the tunnel, but he thought it was closer than it really was. He also hated that you were right. Your wit has kept him sane, if he were to be honest with himself. It’s pushed him to be better, to do better.

“Yeah yeah, whatever,” he shook his head, going to throw the ball again.

End of flashback

You’ve watched Joe excel, watched as his wrist strengthened as he climbed the charts to be one of the best quarterbacks in the league. It was a thrill to see, even from the perspective of a witty athletic trainer.

“Cold?” you turned your head to watch a red-nosed Joe walk up to you.

“No, I’m actually sweating right now,” you sarcastically quipped, “yes I’m cold,”

“Sorry I asked,” Joe quipped, but a smirk painted his lips. He loved messing with you, mainly to see your pink cheeks and your smirk. As much as he messed with you, the feelings he had for you were very real. Having feelings for an athletic trainer wasn’t on his bingo card for the year, but here he was, never being able to pull himself from you. There was just something so magnetic about you.

“And you’re out here in shorts,” you scoffed, seeing the hoodie/jersey combo and the shorts he wore. He looked like he was taking a walk in the park when it was 50 degrees outside. It was below 30.

“It’s the high metabolism,” he came to stand next to you. He was much taller than you, and while he adored the height difference, he was well aware you could kick his ass.

“I think it’s the cockiness getting to you,” you muttered, earning a scoff from Joe.

“Wow,” he laughed, “I’ll make sure to put your name in for most supportive athletic trainer of the year,”

“Thanks, I deserve it,” you chuckled, looking up at him. He would agree with you; you did deserve it. Through his injury, the bullshit he put you through, you deserved some type of award. He wanted to be the one to give it to you, to see your face soften and your eyes widen.

“Yeah, you do,” he admitted, turning his face away from looking at you. There was a buzz between you, and you looked over at him. You watched as his breaths came out in puffs, how his cheeks, ears and nose were painted red. He wasn’t bad to look at, but you to remind yourself that you couldn’t indulge in those feelings. You’d lose your job.

You turned back to the field, feeling your heart slam against your chest. Now you were warm, your palms sweaty and your cheeks red. One of the coaches blew the whistle, signaling the end of the break and the beginning of the second half of practice.

—

Your cheeks were rosy, and you were warmer at the end of practice. You threw with Joe some more, gave him some strengthening techniques, and continued on with the banter that usually came from you both.

You grabbed your things, including a practice bag, and hoisted it on your shoulder. You looked back at Joe, who was standing with Ja’marr and Tee, a laugh spilling from his lips. He looked so cozy, so relaxed, and you couldn’t help but feel your heart flutter.

You looked away, shaking your head. It wasn’t going to happen. You were an athletic trainer and he was a player, not just any player, the star player. You walked off of the field, a pep in your step as you started towards the facility.

“Boo,” you heard a voice in your ear, making you jump. You snapped your head over, and saw the towering quarterback next to you.

“Asshole,” you shoved him, your heart slamming in your chest from his scare and from him.

“Oh come on, you’re just a lil jumpy,” he teased. He liked seeing you all riled up, but he wasn’t stupid. He respected you enough to stop when you asked, or even when your body language betrayed you.

“Whatever,” you rolled your eyes, walking next to him. He kept his pace with yours, even though it was slower due to the height difference.

As he walked next to you, he felt his stomach tie itself into knots. He usually didn’t get nervous; he was confident enough in his abilities to focus. But now? He faltered. You were beautiful, in every way, and the way you handled his antics just made his feelings ten times stronger for you.

“You’re uncharacteristically quiet,” you hummed as you walked with him. The silence that was between you was tense, and it buzzed with unsaid feelings. What those feelings were, you couldn’t tell.

“Just thinking about all the ways to annoy you tomorrow,” he dramatically sighed, but it wasn’t completely true. He thought about you, the way your eyes sparkled in the sun, the way your face blushed under the cool weather. He found himself, at points, thinking about what it would feel like to kiss you, to have you as his.

“I knew it was preplanned,” you teased, giving him a smirk.

“Everything’s preplanned. I don’t do anything without thinking first.”

“That’s a lie,” you laughed, earning a scoff and a gentle shove from him.

“You’re supposed to support me, not break me down,” he pouted, and you mockingly pouted back.

“Aww, poor baby,” you huffed, and he only shook his head. You both neared the facility doors, and as warmth enveloped you both, so did Joe’s feelings intensify. He pursed his lips, flexing his hands as he tried to control the impulse to kiss you, to shove you against the wall and take you.

“Y/N?” he asked, and you turned to face him. It was just you two, standing in the hallway. Everyone else had gone ahead.

“Yeah?” you prompted, watching him. You picked out uncertainty in his eyes, the way his lips were tightly pressed together. Something was weighing heavy on him. But he looked at you, his eyes blank, his face pale. He forgot the words. His tongue was thick, like cotton in his mouth.

“Nothing, I’ll see you later,” he smiled, and brushed past you to the locker room. His heart hammered in his chest and his palms were sweaty. His mind was in a fog, consumed at the thought of you. He chickened out, and he’d beat himself up about it for the rest of the day.

You were left standing, confused and empty. You watched as he left, his form retreating down the hallway before he disappeared. Part of you hoped, based off of the look in his eyes, that he’d tell you that your feelings for him were reciprocated. Part of you hoped that he’d say something, but he didn’t.

You walked back to your office, a smaller room along a hallway. You unlocked your door, walking in to the warmer room. Your desk was in front of you, a window behind it, letting soft light into the room. Two guest chairs stood in front of your desk, and a small table held a coffee maker.

It was the bare minimum, but you were lucky you had an office.

You set the bag down, sitting down at your computer. You needed to write your reports, to check reports that have been submitted, but you couldn’t focus. Your mind drifted to Joe, to his eyes, to how he so easily talked to you, his arms, his thighs.

You dug the heels of your palms into your eyes.

You opened up your emails, trying to distract yourself from the thoughts of Joe. He was your coworker, not someone to become romantically involved with. No matter how he made you feel, no matter how attractive he was.

You didn’t know how much you got done, but your eyes never left your laptop until you heard a knock on your door. Your eyes lifted from your laptop, watching as Joe opened your door. His hair was wet, his skin a warm tan. He was dressed comfortably; sweats and a sweatshirt.

“What’s up?” you asked, pursing your lips.

“I just wanted to stop by before I left,” he said, stepping into your office and softly shutting the door behind him. His heart slammed against his chest. He was only ever nervous around you, except when it came to practice. He was in his element, he knew what he was doing and that distracted him from you. Now, as he stood in your office, he didn’t have his football knowledge to back him up.

“Oh,” you smiled, “is there something bothering you?” you asked him, concern furrowing your brow. You couldn’t think that Joe would come and see you for any other reason than football, or his wrist. He wouldn’t come and see you because he wanted to.

“Yeah, can you check my wrist before I go?” he asked you. He didn’t need his wrist checked. He was totally fine. He’s been fine for weeks.

“Sure, yeah,” you stood up, meeting him in the center of your office, “but I thought you’ve been fine for weeks,” you hummed as you took his extended wrist.

“I was, but it felt really tight after my shower,” he swallowed. Your soft hands against his wrist, the way your fingers gently pressed to see where his supposed pain was, it sent shocks throughout his body.

“Ok,” you hummed, turning over his wrist. You didn’t see any swelling, you didn’t feel any heat, and he didn’t react to your pressure.

“I don’t feel anything,” you told him, meeting his eyes, “there isn’t obvious pain,” you added, but as your eyes met, tension buzzed between you. Your stomach twisted, your heart skipped a beat. You fought the urge to look at his lips.

“That’s good,” he sighed, nodding his head. He could feel the tension, the way you looked at him, the way his heart skipped beats. He inhaled deeply to try and control his breathing. His free hand, with a slight tremble, reached up and caressed your cheek. His light touch sent shivers down your spine, and as much as you should fight it, you didn’t. You stepped closer to him, keeping your eyes on him.

He softly placed his lips on yours, and for a moment you stiffened. You didn’t expect this. You didn’t expect him to kiss you, to do the very thing you’ve wanted to do for a while. He parted from you, feeling you stiffen.

“I’m sorry-” he was interrupted by your hands grabbing the collar of his sweatshirt, pulling his lips to yours with a hunger like no other. He immediately kissed you back, one of his hands cupping the back of your neck, pulling you closer. You tasted sweet and it made his body thrum with his need for you. The need he’s been shoving aside for months.

Your lips danced together with a roughness and passion you’ve never experienced. Your hands looped around his neck, keeping yourself as close as you could be to him. His hunger for you could be felt as his hands moved to grip your hips. He began walking you back, keeping his lips on yours. When your hips hit your desk, you gasped, and it allowed his tongue to slip into your mouth. You moaned as his tongue explored your mouth tasting more of you.

He slowly pulled away, resting his forehead against yours. He panted, his breath fanning your face.

“Is the door locked?” you asked, looking into his eyes.

“I don’t know, why?”

“Because we’re gonna need it to be,” you hummed, the look in your eyes telling him all he needed to know. He’s never locked a door so fast in his life. He came back over, and smashed his lips back to yours with a newfound hunger. His fingers played with the hem of your shirt, and in that moment, you were glad that door was locked. You were also glad you were an athletic trainer; you’d need to be able to do your own stretches later when he took your ability to walk.

[burningembers91]

A Game of Cat and Mouse - The Salesman x Fem!Reader

Follow Up Piece to: Freak of Nature On Display

Synopsis: Tired of being followed by the man in the grey suit, you decide the turn the tables

Warnings: Stalking, voyeurism, mentions of masturbation, the Salesman being kind of a sub

He was following you again. The man in the grey suit with the brown leather briefcase that probably cost more than you earned in a month. You clocked him about 100 yards back, his reflection visible in a shop window. You didn’t know how long you’d been playing this game of cat and mouse for. Any normal person would have been terrified at the prospect of being stalked, but there was something about the man who followed you that you found undeniably attractive. The day after he’d paid for your coffee, he was back out on the park bench, watching you from afar. You pretended not to notice him, going about your work as if he wasn’t there. Some days however, he would sit with you, making idle conversation as you watched the world pass by. You knew he followed you home, and one night you saw him sitting outside the restaurant across from you apartment. He noticed you too and raised his glass of soju in acknowledgement.

What was it that drew him to you? You weren’t anything special, weren’t anyone important. You were just you. You led a mundane life, filled with days that were all pretty much the same. Perhaps that was why you liked your new stalker; he injected the excitement that was so desperately missing from your world. You knew nothing about him, not even his name, but you were sure he knew lots about you.

You weren’t far from your apartment now, only two more minutes and you be safely behind your door. But you were tired of being safe; you wanted to see your grey suited man again, wanted to hear his voice, wanted to watch the wild way his almond eyes explored your body. You ducked round a corner, backtracking through an alleyway that ran down the side of your apartment. You could see your grey suited man from behind now, an angle you’d never seen before. He looked good from behind, with perfect posture, and an ass that looked great in his suit. He stopped, noticing you were no longer in front of him. you couldn’t see his face, couldn’t see the confused expression that flitted across his perfect features. Sneaking up behind him, you waited until you were inches away from him before whispering into his ear. “I guess this time I’m the cat, and you’re the mouse.”

He swivelled around to meet you, his eyes blazing with an expression you couldn’t read. “You’re not the only one with tricks up your sleeve, Mr Grey Suit,” you smiled, watching his eyes widen as he took you in. No one had ever bested him before, but you’d managed to outsmart him today. “Clever girl,” he purred, “I enjoy our little game.” You’d left him speechless that day at the coffee house, and today was no exception. You were so much more than he ever could have dreamed of, so suited to his needs and desires that he wasn’t sure he could hold back much longer. He liked playing with your mind, but he longed to play with your body too. He wanted to feel you squirm against him, wanted to hear you moan for him as he figured out how far he could push you. “Will you be dining across the street tonight?” you asked, fiddling with the top button of your shirt. He shifted in his Prada loafers, a flash of hunger in his eyes. “Potentially,” he mused, “or perhaps I might find an alternative option to satisfy my tastes.” You both knew he was lying; he was far too hooked on you to get his kicks elsewhere. “Shame,” you pouted, knowing you had him right where you wanted him. “I was going to give you a little show. Maybe next time.” With that, you turned on your heel and left your grey-suited man standing dumbstruck in the street.

That night, he was in his usual spot outside the restaurant. You couldn’t help but smile to yourself. Your grey suited stalker was becoming predictable now. But, you’d promised him a show, and a show he would get. You nudged the curtain open just a touch, enough that he could see you from where he was sitting.

He watched you from across the street, saw you move the curtain and give him full view of your figure. You were wearing nothing but a tiny silk robe, the dusty mauve colour the perfect contrast against your skin. You unbelted the robe achingly slowly, and he could feel his erection pushing against the fabric of his pants. The robe fell to the floor, and you stood in a matching lingerie set, your fingers running up and down your body. You were teasing him, toying with him. He’d never been teased before, and he aching cock responded to you in a way he’d never felt before. he shifted in his seat, desperate to quell the rising sensation of unbearable lust. He watched you slip your bra strap down, watched as you slowly lowered the cup just enough to show him the faintest outline of your breast. He audibly groaned, downing his glass of soju to quieten his desire. If he knocked on the door, would you let him in? He’d never been at the mercy of someone before, always being the one who played with people. But you seemed to enjoy torturing him. As if reading his mind, you shook your head, your finger delicately tracing your nipple. No, you wouldn’t let him in tonight. But he’d need you soon, otherwise he might go insane.

That night he pleasured himself to the image of you in your apartment, the delicate lingerie so perfectly contouring your curves. He’d have you soon, there was no doubt about that. You were a tease, but he hadn’t fully shown you what he was capable of yet.

[sierrale8ne]

40 DAYS AND 40 NIGHTS CHAPTER SIXTEEN

thought i’d be lying if i said ‘i didn’t want you to myself.’ when you look me in my eyes and, tell me that it’s mine, i…

pairing wnba!paige bueckers x singer!oc

taglist @thaatdigitaldiary @ohbueckers @wbbgetsmewetter @rosemariiaa @tndaqlifwy @pboogerswbb @xxloveralways14 @makethemhoesmad @slvt4her @luvapaigeeyy @hedidnotpleaseme @paigesbabygirl @mopopshop @omg-imtumbling @numberonepartyanth3m @wbb4l @authentic-girl03 @slut4uconnwbb @unadulteratedcyclepaper @kplum10 @fuddfanatic35 @avvwritesstufff @paigesluver @bueckersbitch @ryywyd @lupinqs

warnings long chapter (9.3k words), sexual content (fucking filth, you’re welcome!)

kalena speakss 🪽! i’m so so sorry for the wait, i’ve been lazy and also interrupted multiple times while writing. anyways, there’s nothing i’ve enjoyed writing, more than paige and maraye’s story. so, i thank you guys for all the support since it’s dropped and all the interactions and comments and anons, y’all truly make me laugh. i have an epilogue and around two bonus chapters planned so be on the look out for those. i’d love some live reactions to this one if you guys are up for it! anyway enjoy the finale with my babies, i put pen to paper for this one!

July 2025 — Indianapolis, Indiana

“You can’t answer your phone now?”

“Pa—”

“My girl just treatin’ me like I’m chopped damn liver.”

“Pai—”

“Who you with?”

“Paige!” I finally cut in, shaking my head and tapping the FaceTime button on the screen. “Shut up for a second, and pick up.” I groan.

The sound of the call connecting, finally comes through, and I can’t help but press the photo button when I see her, all laid out on her hotel bed with an arm behind her head. Her face is flushed, hair slightly sweating from her first All-Star practice. A pout graces her lips and her eyes squint as she scowls.

“Hi.” I grin.

“What’s so important that you can’t answer my calls?” She asks again, staring at me intensely through the screen.

I roll my eyes at her eagerness. Our plane landed early that morning, and after getting checked in at our respective hotels, Paige had practice and I went out to do some shopping. “I’m tryna find an outfit for our date.” I explain, looking over at the girls next to me who attempt to help me out.

“You by yourself?” She asks. Her eyebrows furrow, and knowing Paige, I know she’s pissed that I didn’t ask her to come with me. 

I shake my head, panning the camera to reveal both Nika and Azzi next to me. I’m not sure how this came about, but a few texts and an invitation later the two were joining me at the mall. 

“You didn’t tell us that Raye looked this good in person!” Nika speaks into the phone. I cover the lower half of my face with my hand, an attempt to hide my growing blush. 

“And for good reason.” The blonde replies before turning her attention towards me. “Baby, you ignorin’ me to hang out with them? That’s how you feelin’?”

I’ve spent the last hour and a half understanding why Nika and Azzi were Paige’s best friends. They were involved, and not in that nagging annoying way, they cared. They cared about Paige and wanted to keep her happy. Which in turn, meant they cared about my business with the woman.

I laugh at Paige, my attention still not fully on her as I assume she’d want. “I’m not ignoring you. I need to find an outfit, blondie.”

“Y’know you could wear a trash bag and I’d still wanna take you out, right?”

“That’s what I said!” Azzi sings into my ear. “But I will say, this one is perfect.” The girl says. Azzi holds up one of the two-piece sets I was yet to try.

“Girl you gotta try it on. I like it too.” Nika affirms.

Suddenly my phone is an afterthought. “Really? It’s not too casual?”

“Lemme see.”

“It’s Indiana. I promise this isn’t casual.” Azzi explains.

“Hellooo?”

“Your ass would look perfect in this skirt tho’. Wear this one!” Nika shakes the outfit on the hanger a little more harshly.

“Ight now I really need to see it.”

I look back and forth between the two women, both outfits fitting completely different vibes. The denim co-ord in Azzi’s hands would accentuate my hips and my tits, which Paige simply would fall out over. The black set in Nika’s hands might stop us from going out to dinner all together.

“P, what’s the dress code?” I turn back, looking down at her astonished face on my screen. Her lips slightly parted eyes blown wide.

“So know you remember I exist?” She teases.

I give her a tilt of my head, enough to let her know I want her to shut up. “Dress code, please?”

“Uh-I-I dunno. Nothin’ too fancy, nothin’ too casual.” Paige shrugs.

“Well whatchu wearin’?” I ask.

I know my choice of words should’ve been picked a bit better because Nika snickers beside me and Paige lets out a laugh, sending me that smirk of hers that makes my knees go a little bit weak in the store. 

“Ayo?” Paige jokes, covering her mouth with her palm.

“Paige Madison.”

“I’m wearin’ jeans!” She finally answers when her laughter dies down. “Jeans and a black tee, maybe a jacket. I dunno yet.”

I huff, looking back at the options the three of us have picked out. Paige was right, what I put on didn’t really matter. At least not as much as I thought it did. But this is our first date, my first date with a girl, with Paige— who isn’t just any girl. 

So I pick up the set in Nika’s hands, the black fabric running through my fingers. It is perfect. “I’ll see you tonight, okay?”

Paige nods, her lips folding into a small grin. “Tonight.”

—

I run my hand anxiously down the side of my jeans, catching a glimpse of the white patchwork on the knees and taking a deep breath outside the door. I’m nervous. Which is a feeling I’m not very used to yet. 

In my entire 23 years of living, I think I’ve only ever been on three first dates. Two in high school and one in college with Nyla. Though, I don’t really think I could ever consider that a date.

Either way, the number was slim to none which left me with zero clue of what to expect tonight. Especially from Maraye.

She was unpredictable. Nothing about her ever completely the same. She kept me on my damn toes, which was great but also so confusing at the same time.

I knocked on the hotel door softly before digging my hands into the pockets of my Kith jacket. Along with my black baggy jeans, I threw on a simple black shirt and a jacket. She might’ve never said it out loud, but with the way she always looks at me when I wear it, I know that black is Raye’s favorite color on me. As is mine on her.

My fingers are decorated with silver rings. I have on two different chains, the first is a simple one with a cross and the second is my diamond 5 chain. I figured that a first date calls for pulling out all the stops. 

My stomach suddenly bubbles with anxiousness and my pulse is heard in my ears as I wait for her. This is it. Our first date, and the more I repeat it in my head, the more surreal it sounds.

I was right about not knowing what to expect with Raye, because I knew she’d look good but I wasn’t ready for her to look this damn good.

She wears this black two piece. The skirt is long and low waisted, giving me a view of the fine lines of her abdomen, a thin waist chain and a navel piercing, both gold that make my mouth water. The matching shirt falls off of her left shoulder, a velvet bunch of material that is ruched on her side. 

All Raye ever wears is gold, which doesn’t change now, her rings are thin bands, and there are bracelets adorning her wrists from Van Cleef and Louis Vuitton. She’s dripped down in it, and it makes her glow even more than normal. Her scent, Chanel no.5 as per usual, travels up to my nose and I swear I could pass out from getting my eyes on her alone.

“Goddamn, Miss Carter.”

“Gimme a second, sorry.” She laughs, a pure and bright laugh that makes my eyes go wide.

I clear my throat, nodding my head while shamelessly raking my eyes over her. “Got all dressed up for me, huh?” I say, taking Maraye’s invitation to enter her room, the door closing behind me.

She scoffs. “You fuckin’ wish.” And if it weren’t for the fact that I heard from her own mouth that this outfit was specifically for tonight, I would have believed her. “I look good tho’?”

I nod almost immediately, my head moving before I could really even process what she just asked me. Because she looks damn good. Not just her clothing, the fine lines of each of her tattoos are shown off by what she wears, and her hair is completely different from when I saw it just this morning. Her curls blown out and trailing down her shoulders. She looks like a fucking model.

“You look—fuck. Raye, are you serious? You look gorgeous, ma.” I say, still almost breathless. “Y’know, I actually brought sum for you.”

“Why?”

I laugh at her reaction. “I mean, your birthday was yesterday. I was supposed to give it to you at the house, but someone was tryna get in my pants all night.” Raye instantly breaks eye contact with me at that, eyes traveling to the ceiling.

I dig into my back pocket, grasping the thin box in my hand before showing it to her. It’s simple, a thin sleek white that looks perfect against her hands.

Maraye looks at me skeptically, her eyebrow raising before she darts her eyes down at the box. She pulls the lid off carefully and I watch her intensely. The way she pouts at the thin line of jewelry in the box. There’s a gold Angel pendant in the center. 

“Paige.” She starts, and her feet are moving in an instant. She brings an arm to my cheek cupping it before leaning into me and placing her lips on my other cheek. “It’s beautiful.”

“Yeah? You like it?” I can feel my skin get hot and I lick my lips.

“Mmhmm. Love it, blondie.” Maraye nods, a grin spreading across her cheeks and I swear I see her blush just a little. “Imma wear it tonight.”

I can’t even hide my face, completely taken aback. “Y-you don’t have to. Really, it ain’t a big deal. If y’ont like it—”

“No. I do like it and I am wearing it.” She reaches down for my wrist, pulling me further into the hotel room. “Help me put it on.” Raye smiles, and just like that all my nerves are gone. Because she’s here, just like I want her to be. She’s all dressed up, saying all the right things, and smiling that smile that makes me forget that we do have places to be. 

I take the gold chain in my hands, raising my hands over her head and taking my spot directly behind her in the full length mirror. I clasp it, looking at how that pendant sits perfectly on the glistening hollow between her collarbones. 

“It’s perfect.” My arms settle around her waist, my chin in the crook of her neck. I watch her watch the two of us in the mirror, her fingers tracing over where it decorates her neck in gold. “It’s a cute angel.”

I hum and press my lips against the column of her neck. “My angel, yeah?” And I know I live for the way her face blushed at it. Her ears visibly reddening and her eyes darting away from me in the mirror.

Raye’s head turns to meet mine, her glossed lips immediately catching my attention as they curl upwards into a smile. Then she nods. A simple fucking nod that makes my entire body feel hot. We’re inches apart, I can see the gears in her head turning. I just know Raye thinks she’s slick, but I catch the way her eyes move down to my lips anyway.

“C’mon. Let’s go.” She murmurs, breaking our intense gaze with a slight stutter. I peel my arms off her waist and step back. She reaches for her purse, tossing the black YSL bag onto her shoulder and doing one last look over the room before looking back at me. 

All of a sudden the resolve I’ve attempted to have over the last 24 hours is out of the window. All I can think about is taking her right here, I don’t care about dinner. I care about the face she’d make under me, my name off her tongue, how fucking good I know she’d taste on mine. She looks like a dream, that fabric hugging every curve of that perfect—

“We’re gonna be late.” 

I lick my lips for what feels like the 50th time since I’ve been here. Stalking over to her, I immediately wrap an arm around her waist, pulling her into me until I can feel her belly piercing pressing up against my abdomen.

“I’m makin’ you mine, the second dinner is over.” I mumble, my lips dangerously close to hers.

She’s enjoying this, the way I visibly go crazy for her. The way I stop holding back because frankly, I don’t think I have to anymore. Raye doesn’t have to say it, but the way she arches her body into mine and grips at my bicep lets me know it’s turning her on too. Or at least I’ll pretend it does.

“Coulda done it last night.” Raye shrugs. “Or this morning.” She says pointedly. Her other hand reaches for mine on her waist, tugging it off and pushing it to my side. She spins on her toes, placing one kitten heeled foot in front of the other as she reaches for the door. 

I don’t even wait a second before my hand meets her ass.

“Paige!”

“Ain’t no way you thought I wasn’t gonna do that at least once.” She frowns at me, stepping to the side of the open doorway and looking at me expectantly.

“Walk in front of me.”

“Ma—”

“In front. Go.” Raye grits through her teeth, and when she looks at me like that I know better than to ignore her. I step through the doorway, watching behind me as she shuts it behind her. “You’re so annoying.”

I don’t answer, rather sticking my hand, palm up, for her to take. And she does. It’s then when I know that this is where I’m supposed to be, with her holding my hand. It’s simple, but still I think it makes my body react like it never has before.

She interlocks her fingers with mine, the coolness of her rings press into the sides of my fingers. She’s smiling, again. I drag her behind me, trying to get used to the feeling of our hands together, but all it does is mess up my head more. 

“You look really pretty by the way.” She murmurs, her eyes are glued to the floor when I look at her. I know my hand is sweating as a reaction to her compliment, and I don’t know what to do besides muttering a ‘thank you’ with a cheeky smile. 

I know I’m fucked. All I’m thinking now is that I have to make it through dinner. That’s it.

Get through dinner.

—

When I look away from our waiter— who has just informed us that a mistake was made in the kitchen and that our appetizers would be on the house— and over at Paige, she’s rolling her eyes and taking a sip from the wine she hated, but still insisted on getting an entire bottle of. She did it to make me happy, of course, even though I insisted that it wasn’t an issue for her to get her beloved Shirley temple.

She’s kissing her teeth, setting down the wine glass before picking up a slice of focaccia bread and smearing it in butter. “We need a different waiter.”

I can’t help but laugh at her sudden statement. “You’re being dramatic.” I say, following suit in throwing some bread into my own mouth.

“He tryna fuck you.” She points at me. I find her jealousy and blatant vulgarity amusing, especially when our waiter had to be no older than 18 years old. 

I lick the crumb from the corner of my lips. “And how would you know that, Madison?”

“Bro was lookin’ at you how I look at you. And that’s sayin’ something.” She says loudly, as if it’s obvious. My eyes go wide as I attempt to get her to quiet down. Paige did a good job of getting us a secluded table. Throw in the soft jazz that played and the ambiance of the low light, she did wonderful at making dinner as romantic as she could.

But it was obvious that dealing with our waiter was not in her evening plans.

“Stop it, no he wasn’t.” I brush her off, reaching for my nearly empty first glass of wine. The scent travels through my nose, just barely adding to my growing tipsiness. 

“And you're just flirting back. Smilin’ all big and shit.” Paige groans. “Showing all 32 is crazy.”

Her adamant attitude makes me smile, “He works in service, I’m being nice!”

“Flirting.”

“That boy prolly hasn’t even graduated high school yet, Paige.” I roll my eyes.

“You’re flirting.”

“You just love arguing wimme, huh?” I ask, leaning on my elbows to peer into her eyes across the table. 

She grins, crossing her arms as she leans into me in the same way I am. “Were you not the one all hot and bothered by me yelling at you on the plane?”

I smirk at the memory. The way her eyes turned dark when I suggested she talk to me like that again. How she was so set on keeping her word but still fell victim to my antics on her lap. And I was so close to getting her how I wanted her if it hadn’t been for her fucking stubbornness.

“See that was me flirting.” I say, trying to get that event out of my head before I’m proving Paige right and getting all bothered again. 

She shakes her head at me, scratching at her top lip with her thumb. The blonde takes her attention off me when that waiter comes back with our food. My blackened salmon and shrimp glistened in the sauce it came with. Alongside Paige’s ribeye steak, mashed potatoes, and broccolini.

She took control of the conversation with ease, allowing him to set down our plates before refilling our glasses of wine. I didn’t even spare a glance at our waiter because in my head, I’m thinking that there isn’t a moment in the last few months where Paige has looked hotter to me than she does right now.

I’d like to think that her choice of all black was purposeful because she knows how I react to it, but everything else has me losing my train of thought every few seconds into our conversations and whatever else that boy is saying to the both of us. Her Rolex watch gleams in the light each time she moves, the same with the diamonds of her 5 chain and earrings. Paige’s hair is slicked back into a bun that, outside of her wearing it down, might be my favorite style of hers.

I watch her intently, each movement of her fingers and arms. The way she licks her lips. Even the fake smile she gives to the waiter. Her fingers wrap around her glass, raising it slightly and tipping it towards my own. It’s then when I realize I’ve been doing nothing but staring and that I should probably follow suit.

“Be more slick next time.” Paige chuckles, our glasses finally clinking together. Her lips are just slightly glossed, a mixture of a sheer pink that makes them look even more beautiful than they already are when they touch the glass.

I take a heady gulp of my wine before reaching for my fork and knife, collecting them in one hand and draping the black cloth they came in over my lap. “Says the one who been staring at my tits all night, thinkin’ I didn’t notice.”

Paige tries to hide the face she makes, she really does. But when mine finally meet her blues, she folds almost immediately, swiping a hand over her chin and licking her lips with a gentle laugh. 

“I dunno what you’re talking about.”

I look down at my plate while Paige does the same, my mouth heavily watering when I get a glimpse of my food, but even more when I see Paige’s plate.

“Madisonnnn.” I sing. My recent abuse of her middle name has made her smile all night, but this time she doesn’t. Mostly because she knows exactly what I’m asking for.

She shakes her head, preparing to cut her medium-rare steak, “absolutely not.”

“It’s my birthday.”

“Yeah, yesterday.”

“C’mon, just one bite.” I pout, hoping that it does what it normally does, and that is get her to crack.

She cuts a bite of the steak making sure to swipe it against the garlic butter on the plate before feeding it to herself. “You haven’t even tried your salmon yet, angel.”

On instinct I run my heel against her inner calf, moving it up higher until it’s up against her thigh. Paige’s eyes snapped to mine and I stuck out my lip, playfully batting my eyelashes at her. 

“Please, baby?” I murmur softly. The pet name feels foreign on my tongue, not just because It’s my first time saying it in reference to Paige. I genuinely can’t remember the last time I’ve used it at all.

She swallows her steak and I watch her hand travel under the table. Paige gives me that fucking smirk, gripping my ankle and holding it in place against her lap to stop my antic. “Try your food first.” 

I tug my ankle away from her and drop it to the floor, huffing before taking a bite of my perfectly seasoned salmon.

“How is it?” Paige asks, tapping a finger against the edge of the table.

I let the food melt on my tongue, “it’s amazing.” I mumble, following it with a sip of wine.

Paige nods in approval, cutting a piece of her steak as she did once before. She dangles the fork in my face like a dog with a toy. “C’mere, mama.”

I smile, not even bothering to hide it from her as I lean in some more, taking the bite she offered and letting the fork teasingly linger in my mouth. 

“Good?”

I dance in my seat. “Good. I think mine tastes better tho’.”

And Paige rolls her eyes. Scooting backwards from me and getting back to eating. Happily getting her own playful revenge on me as she does so.

—

“You were what?” I ask, nearly choking on air as I laugh.

I sit on the edge of my hotel bed, foot bouncing eagerly as I talk to Raye through the wall that separates the main room from the bathroom in which she entered the second I got the door open. I’m guessing the multiple glasses of wine was a bad idea for the both of us. Especially tonight, because I’m going crazy now that it’s just me and her.

I’m supposed to be all ears to our conversation, to her telling me about her nerdy high school endeavors. And I am finding amusement at every bit. 

Then, each time I blink, I’m thinking about her in that skirt. How her ass sits perfectly in it. The glistening glow of her waist chain on the perfectly defined abdomen, the curves of her hips. 

I can hear her groan over my laugh, before the water of the sink begins running. “Theater, Paige. I did theater. Quit laughing, you idiot!” She yells out.

“You were a thespian? Like for real?” 

The water cuts off, and her heels click against the bathroom tile before muffling against the carpet. Raye’s hips sway as she approaches me, 

“You were a lesbian jock. And you still are, so shut up.” The grits, slipping the heels off her feet and standing between my legs. Her words don’t even click in my head, all my attention is on her.

I reach my hands up to her thighs, gripping them through the fabric. “Put on a show for me then.”

“That was the best line you could come up with?” Raye asks, a laugh freeing itself from her throat. Her hands tugged mine off of her body, leaving my palms cold from her absence.

“You tellin’ me you got something better?”

“Mmhmm.”

When she steps back I swear I’ve died and gone to heaven. Slowly, Raye pulls that black top off of her head, showing off her gorgeous, navy, lace bra. It cups her tits just right, complementing the brown of her skin and the gold of her jewelry so good I wanna rip the rest of those clothes off.

“‘Member what you said last night? Teach you and you’ll teach me, or whatever?” She breathes. I just nod again, reaching forward for Raye’s hip. 

She smirks, sending my entire body into orbit. I’m soaked through my boxers and my jeans, completely enthralled by the way she looks before me. 

Raye bores those perfect brown eyes into mine while she hooks her thumbs in the waistband of her skirt. “Wanna teach me sum then?” She tells me. I should’ve known that we couldn’t go more than five minutes in this room together before I was wanting to fuck her raw. Slow and deep and carnal and fucking raw. Wanting to give her everything that she’s never had before. 

I shoot up to my feet, watching her skirt pool on the floor. She steps out of it, rolling her neck up to look at me through her lashes. 

My eyes gaze over her body once more, how the lace on her hips clings to them. Her hair, bombshell curls— that I still don’t think I really ever got over— flipped over to one side and tattoo’s that decorated her skin in that perfect ink. 

“I've been tryna take my time with you.” I groan, running a palm over my chin, “makin’ this shit so hard.”

She catches me by surprise when she throws her arms around my neck, arching her chest towards my face. The line of her cleavage is even more defined by the simple moment.

“Teach me.”

I take a breath. “On everything, I ain’t stopping when I start.”

“Teach. Me.”

—

I swear Paige is kissing me before I can even finish my words. Lips on my harsh and certain. The first time, she was so delicate; like she was trying to figure me out. The second time was desperate, and I’m sure if it wasn’t for us getting interrupted she would’ve turned me out in the studio that night. The third time was like a goodbye. Short and sweet, but full of everything we were yet to say.

This one? It’s like oxygen after drowning. Maybe it was all the strain we’ve been feeling since our fight, or all the sexual tension that we’ve been tiptoeing around over the last 24 hours. But I feel like I’m floating, like her hands that dig into my hips let me become one with the sky as her lips dance on mine.

Paige tastes like perfection. Not anything I can specifically point out except for the wine and the slight sweetness from our shared Oreo cheesecake. 

I pull back, breaking the suction of our lips. She eyes the line of saliva that connects us, and I know it turns her on because Paige doesn’t even bother licking it away. She just brings me back, sliding her hands to my ass and gripping it as she entangles our tongues.

I suck on her hers sloppily, feeling myself grow wetter when she moans into the kiss. My hands cup her jaw angling my head just right so I can get more of her, more of anything.

In a swift movement she’s throwing off her jacket, the sound of it crashing to the floor muffled by the sound of our kisses. She’s turning me over, backing me towards the bed until I hit the foot of it. Paige lays me down, her action so gentle compared to the way she digs into my hips. 

All of a sudden I’m hyper aware of it all. Of how I’m standing here in nothing but carefully picked lingerie, letting Paige fucking Bueckers kiss me within an inch of my life. How desperate I must seem for her, but she doesn’t care, equally as needy for me. 

“Mine all fuckin’ night.” She murmurs on my lips, pulling away to lick her own as we both catch our breath. The coolness of her chain drags against my clavicle, making me gasp into her. Paige shakes her head, looking at me like she can’t even believe I’m real, before tilting my head with her hand at my jaw. Her lips attached to the line of it. “Gon’ fuck you till you can’t take it.”

I’m nodding, cupping her head to hold her there. I search her hair for the hair tie that holds her bun together, finding it and tugging her locks free so it falls down her shoulders. Paige kisses her way down my neck, finding my sweet spot almost too easily. 

My other hand darts under her shirt to tug at the waistband of her jeans, moaning breathlessly when she sucks on that spot right where my neck meets the top of my chest. “Fuck.” I groan, deciding that the quicker I get these clothes off, the quicker I get to leave her bed a fucking mess. “Take this shit off, P. Now.”

I tug at the hem of her black shirt and Paige pulls back from me, lips swollen and wet, to ruck her shirt off and toss it on the floor. I trail my eyes over her body; muscular shoulders tanned from the sun of summer, sports bra clad to her chest, line of her abs and that obvious V that leads down into her pants.

It’s the hottest thing I’ve ever seen.

She cages me in with her arms, which flex at every subtle movement. Paige starts with the kissing again, first with a bite to my earlobe before she trails lower and lower. Over the tattoo down the side of my neck, until she meets my chest. “You so perfect, angel.”

I hum, feeling myself get wetter and wetter with each word she says. “Paige.”

“Mm?” She purrs, looking up at me with her lips attached to the swell of my breast.

“Been—mmph— been wantin’ you for months, baby. Stop teasing and fuck me.” I stutter, allowing my fingers to tangle in her long blonde locks. 

Paige curls her arm under my body, grounding my hips with one hand and unclipping my bra with the other. It comes easy for her, and my mind briefly travels to that place where I’m wondering how many girls she’s had to have done this to for it to be that simple. She peels my bra down my arms, tossing it behind her as well. The way she looks at me, like I’m prey, makes me realize I don’t fucking care. I can’t care, not when it’s just me and her.

“I gotchu, baby. I do, jus’ lay back.” Paige says. She licks up the center of my body before turning her head to lick at my nipple, swirling her tongue around it messily. She wraps her lips around it, sucking on my tit like it’s a pacifier. “So fine. Shit unreal.” 

She does the same to my other breast, squeezing the flesh in her hand, biting at my nipple. She’s nasty. As I expected her to be, with the way she’s been acting since I met her. But this, the worshiping of my body is something I’ve never had before. With anyone.

Paige trails sloppy kisses down my torso, leaving hickeys on my stomach that I know I’m going to have to cover up in order to wear my outfit tomorrow.

She gets settled between my legs, trailing her nose against the hem of my panties. “Need this pussy, ma. Needa taste you.” She bites at the lace, snapping it against my inner leg and I whimper.

Her thumb curls into them, being slow and gentle with the way she tugs the clothing down my legs. “This okay?”

“Yeah. It’s okay.” I nod, lifting my hips to aid her. “So okay.”

In response she grins at me, kissing across my pelvis down to my inner thighs. Her eyes glued to mine, blues dark with how wide her pupils have dilated, before they dart between my legs to my soaked cunt. “Fuck, Raye.” She groans, pressing her thumb to my clit.

“P, I need—”

“No fuckin’ way you been keepin’ this from me.” Paige shakes her head in disbelief, kissing my thigh softly. “Gonna make it mine, baby. I swear.” 

She’s leaning in at that, running her tongue up through my folds with the softest lick that makes my eyes roll instantly. I toss my head onto the pillows, letting her grip my inner thighs as she speeds up. 

“Pussy tastes fuckin’ incredible, mama. So sweet.” Paige groans, lapping at my cunt like she hasn’t eaten in ages. Her lips wrapping around my clit, tongue running on the underside of it. She’s a fucking pro, garnering reactions that I’ve never had before.

My fingers grip the sheets beside me, back arching off the bed. “God, P. F—uck!” I croak, my moans coming out louder and louder as she eats me dry. “Shit, baby.”

Paige’s free hand is reaching for mine, releasing the sheets from my grip and replacing it with her own. She interlaces my fingers and that’s when I shoot up, looking down at her with my jaw slack. 

I watch her, my wetness coating her mouth and the tip of her nose, her tongue licking up and down my folds and teeth nipping at my clit gently. It makes me mewl, her name and curses of pleasure the only thing I can give her. 

She was sloppy—messy and unrefined in a way that shouldn’t have worked, but somehow it did. Paige’s mouth was nothing like the careful precision I had expected from her. Instead, it’s driven by pure want, a raw, desperate hunger that has my legs trembling around her head and my hips bucking into her mouth.

She has me feeling nothing but wanted. Wanted and wanted and wanted.

Paige pulls back for air, biting at her lips that are completely covered in my slick. She spits on me with nothing but filth. Watching as the trail slips past the folds of my cunt and past my asshole, she blows on it, the cool air making me shudder and squeeze her hand even harder. 

“Oh! Keep going, baby. I can take it.” I groan, pulling her closer to my throbbing pussy.

“Gon’ take it just for me?” 

“For you, P. Just for you.” 

She suckles on my clit once more, “could die eating you, baby. Just fuckin’ perfect, Raye.” She pants. 

“Fuck,” I breathe, my head tipping back as Paige nudges her teeth around my clit, sucking hard, pinning her palm to my hips to hold me steady. “Paige, you—oh my God—”

Paige hums against my pussy, and the vibration sends a jolt of pleasure through me that makes me cry out, my hips bucking again. 

I can’t decide which was more overwhelming—the relentless pressure of her mouth, her eyes staring up at me, or the sheer dedication she put into it, like nothing else in the world mattered but getting me off.

Then her warm tongue was dipping into me for a second, fucking into me with precision, curling up in search of my spot. My hand flies to her hair, tugging the soft locks between my fingers, holding her face between my legs for a second. My legs shake warningly, that knot in my abdomen feels like it’s seconds away from snapping.

“You’re so fuckin’ good at this,” I manage, my voice breaking on the words as Paige’s eyes flutter shut while she all but made out with my cunt. “How are you so—shit—so good at this?”

Her chuckle vibrates through me, and the blonde pulls back to apply pressure to my clit with her fingers, licking her lips clean. “Ion think you want me to answer that, ma.”

She doesn’t even look at me, simply scissoring my folds apart and diving back into me. She’s right, I don’t want to know, so I let myself fall into her skilled tongue. My control slips, the confident front I’ve been trying to keep all day slipping into vulnerability. 

I gasp, squeezing her hand as tight as I could. My eyes roll once again, “P, I’m gonna—”

“Cum in my mouth, pretty,” Paige moans into me, her voice muffled but insistent, large and veiny hand pressing into my hip to keep me in place.

The words sent me tumbling over the edge. My entire body tensing and back arching off the bed as a wave of pleasure crashes over me, pulling a strangled moan from her lips. I swear the world went white for a moment, every nerve in my body alight with sensation. Paige laps it all up, my cum pooling on her tongue.

She fucks me through it, her tongue slowing down and sucking coming to a stop. When Paige looks at me, hair all mussed and lips swollen, chains and earrings still dancing in the light— I decide right there that this is actually the hottest she’s ever looked. All decorated in the aftermath of my sex. Looking like this for me.

She licks her lips clean before kissing from my thighs up my abdomen. She licks at my navel, tugging my piercing between her teeth. 

Paige continues up my body, suckling on the inside of my breast until another hickey forms, dark purple against the brown of my skin. “I’m gonna be livin’ between your legs from now on. Fuckin’ perfect.” She grins, leaning up to attach our lips.

I groan against her lips, pulling my hand away from hers to unbuckle the belt that holds her jeans. “You’re so good.” I praise, popping open the button on them. 

“Fuck you good?” She responds, helping me out and tugging down her jeans and her boxers simultaneously. “Needa feel you on me. Need that shit.”

I break the kiss, feeling my heart beat so harsh in my chest. I curl my fingers into the band of her bra, and Paige raises her arms to help me get it off. 

My eyes immediately fall to her chest, her supple tits and pink nipples. She’s breathtaking, and I want nothing more to wrap my lips around them and suck. I trail to her abs, practically shocked that a woman could look this fucking amazing in front of me. They dip even lower to her cunt which is positively soaked. 

I can’t help but grin because I know it’s all for me. “Come get it, baby.”

Before I know it Paige wraps her arms around my hips, mirroring my smile as she flips us over settling her back against the headboard as I straddle her.

It’s right then when I get to see all of her. Legs spread apart for me, so fucking wet that I swear we’re both about to leave this bed a dripping mess. Her thighs are so damn muscular.

I let my mind drift to what it would feel like riding them.

Paige grips my thighs, throwing my right leg over hers and slotting our legs together. My eyes go wide, watching my legs tremble with I don’t know what. Nervousness, excitement, arousal. 

“You okay? We don’t have to do anything else, I promise.” Paige looks up at me with crystalline blue eyes. Her hand running up and down my thigh, the other gripping my side and trailing her thumb over my rib tattoo.

“No, I want to.” I brush her off, looking down at how our cunts are slotted together, inches away from touching. 

Paige bites her lip, running a hand back to grip my ass and tug me closer. “Put that pussy on me then. Ride me, ma.” She instructs.

I’m nearly falling out at the raunchiness of her words. I’d be an idiot to not listen to her, especially when she looks at me like I’m a piece of meat.

I grip the edge of the headboard with one hand, the other gripping her shoulder as I roll my hips down to meet her cunt. I gasp at how fucking soaked she is against me. “Oh fuck, P.” I stutter, feeling her clit press up against me.

“You’re so damn pretty, Raye. Fuck— oh my God.” Paige’s head hits the headboard, a moan tumbling past her lips. Loud, and it’s easily the prettiest thing I’ve ever heard. “Look how fuckin’ wet you get for me, soakin’ me up, baby.”

Her hands grip my hips, forcing my hips back and forth against her, grinding my cunt against her in the exact rhythm she wants. 

“Oh. Oh—mmph—yeahhhh, baby. You feel so fucking good.” I whine, feeling that tension in my stomach, already overstimulated from my last orgasm.

Paige meets me halfway, bucking her hips up at me and I feel that inevitable connection that comes with the throb of her clit. “Shit. Shit, ma! This pussy fuckin’ perfect, baby.”

She’s matching my rhythm, fucking me back with fervent bucks of her hips. My nails dig into her shoulders, darting my head down to look at where we connected.

I’ve never in my life felt something this good before. It’s so intimate. The way she holds me and talks to me and feels every little thing that I’m feeling too. I don’t want to stop, I want to keep going, laying up with her all fucking night if I could.

“P—aige! ‘S so good, baby.” 

“Fuck!” She shouts. “So close. You’re doin’ fuckin’ amazing baby.” Paige encourages. She sends a slap to my ass and I keep going for that feeling. That look of euphoria and approval that makes me wanna ride her better and harder and faster. 

I’m louder than I’ve ever been before, growing closer and closer to that peak. “So wet, P.” I hiccup, my eyes glued to the wetness between the both of us, how I’m damn near slipping from how much she’s giving me.

“I know. Can hear it, angel.” Paige moans, digging her nails into the skin of my ass. “So messy, huh? Just creamin’ for me, Raye. Gonna make me cum.” 

“Baby.” I cry, throwing my head back as that same feeling from earlier returns. I think I might explode.

She reaches for my neck, squeezing her hand around my throat and I’m losing concentration. It’s so hard to stay focused when she’s choking me like that, pulling my attention back to her and her fucked out face. If it wasn’t for the pleasure I felt in my core I could’ve probably come from that alone.

“Gimme one.” She groans. “Cum with me, ma. Need that shit. Need that cum all over my pussy. We almost there, c’mon.”

“Oh my— fuck. Fuck!” A scream rips through my throat, and I’m following through, clutching my hand on hers around my neck. Paige’s mouth falls open, pretty, high pitched cries leaving her lips as we finish together. I think both of us saw stars.

I can’t even control the sounds that leave me, mewls and cries and curses that make me mimic a damn sailor. Between the both of us, I can only hope we don’t run into anyone else on her hotel floor because if they didn't hear me before, they definitely heard us just now. 

My legs shake and the second Paige releases my neck I’m trembling into her hold, feeling light-headed after drowning in pleasure like that. She wraps her arms around my waist, nestling her lips against my cheek as I catch my breath.

I can feel her heart beating against mine, her breathing mimicking my own. Her body is so warm against me, it’s a feeling that I never want to get rid of. I think I could spend the rest of forever like this, holding me and kissing me just like this.

I don’t even dare move my legs away from hers. Instead, I turn my head, kissing her in a suffocating kiss that she whimpers into before kissing me back, licking at my tongue and gripping my ass. 

“We’re doing that all the time, baby. Holy shit.” I sigh. Paige chuckles into my mouth, biting my lip and tugging it back.

She just knows exactly how to get me worked up, how to get my heart racing, my mind running in laps, and my cunt dripping for her. 

“Jus’ wait. Got so much more to teach you.”

—

“Swear, Imma knock you up one day.” I grumble in Raye’s ear, running my free hand over her tits and the hickeys I’ve made sure to leave there all night. She might have to wear a turtleneck to the All-Star game tomorrow night because there’s no way she’s gonna be able to cover them all.

She probably takes me for a joke. Which is fine. But in my head, if you got rid of all the anatomical inaccuracies that would make it physically impossible, I am certain that the way she’s been making me feel all night is more than enough for me to fuck her dumb and get her pregnant with my kid. That’s how fucking good she’s been.

“Prettiest fuckin’ tits. Swear.” I sigh in disbelief. Maraye is gorgeous. Has been since the second I laid eyes on her through the TV. Gorgeous in sweats and a stained t-shirt, in a floor length gown, in a mini skirt that gives so little to my imagination. But seeing her naked, like this, gets a reaction out of me that is anything but holy. 

Her back is hot and sweaty against my chest, soft groans escaping her mouth as my fingers toy with her clit from behind. 

The minute Raye stood in front of me, stripping her clothes and pushing her tits in my face. Her body glowing int the hotel light as she begged me to ‘teach her,’ I knew it was fucking game over.

I’ve made it my mission to make each experience worthwhile with everything I did to her tonight. Dragging her into the shower and letting her sink to her knees as she ate me out, I swear she was lying about having never done it before because she made me cum so hard I almost passed out. I took her again as soon as we got out, bending her over the sink and fucking my fingers so deep that she was squirting on the floor. 

She rode my abs when we got back in bed, covering them in her own cream and then shocking me by licking it all off. I decided then that I need her again and again and again, in every possible way that I could have her.

Which brings us to right now. I circle her clit over and over, splaying my other hand over her stomach and tucking my head into her neck to watch. Strings of her slick sticking to my fingertips that I pull back for her to see. 

“You been such a good girl for me tonight, takin’ everything I give you.” I coo against her skin. “My perfect angel.” I hum.

“Paige, just—mm— just like that.” I keep going, slow and deliberate circles because I know that anything else might send her thrashing against my body on the hotel chair.

“Yeah? You like that?” I whisper, kissing her neck in a much different manner than the one in which I’m touching her with. I spread her folds with my index and ring fingers, teasing her hole with my middle. “Don’t even need to get ‘em wet. You did it for me, ma.”

I sink my finger inside, relishing in the way she swallows up my whole finger and coats in arousal. Raye can take more, I know she can, I saw her take nearly my whole hand an hour ago. But I’m being gentle, so one is enough for now.

She tosses her head against my shoulder panting heavily, as if her throat won’t let her moan the way she wants to. She’s so damn soaked, the sound of my finger slowly sliding in and out bounces off the walls. I can feel it dripping out of her, down her ass and drenching my legs through my plaid boxers.

Raye curls her arm around my head, pulling me closer to her neck. I bite my lip, curling them deep inside into her spot. “Ah! Baby, baby! God, right there.” She squeals, digging her nails into my nape.

“You’re so damn beautiful, angel. Jus’ taking me so good.” I nod, holding her body as close as possible so I get that perfect look. That perfect view of her pretty cunt when I slip in a second finger.

That’s what gets her to thrash on my lap, attempting to shut her legs from me but I hold them open. Raye cries out my name, over and over and over again like a prayer. “Don’t fuckin’ stop. Please, m’ so close,” she moans.

“Stretchin’ you out so good, yeah? Gotta get you ready for me. Strap you so good when we get back. Do you so good, ma, I swear.” I speak gently.

I know her tells flawlessly now, how she lets her mouth fall open with nothing but choppy breaths passing into the air. How she grips on anything, eyes rolling into her skull. She’s close, about to make a mess on the last clean surface in the room but I don’t care.

Raye tips her head towards me, chasing my lips with her own. I let her, locking our lips in a slow kiss that feels just like the first time. Her tongue navigates my mouth, her teeth clashing with mine. She’s moaning haphazardly into my mouth, getting distracted by my fingers.

It fills me with a sense of pride I’ve never felt before.

“Wanna ruin it, Raye.” I groan, sucking her bottom lip before pulling back. “It’s mine, yeah?”

She nods rapidly, her legs shake and her moans make my ears ring. “Paige!” Maraye drags out my name, making me feel on top of the whole fucking world.

“This my pussy, ma? All me?”

“Shit. It’s y-yours. I promise.” I rut my fingers inside faster, attempting to ignore the sting in my arm. “I’m cumming, I’m cumming.” She hiccups. Her cunt squeezes me tight, and I know she’s right there.

“Gimme that shit, Raye. Make a mess for me, baby. I need that.” I murmur, “Y’know I’m right here. Just gimme that.” 

A cry tears through her mouth, the loudest she’s been all night. Raye’s eyes are glued shut and she’s coming again. I never want it to end, if it were up to me, I’d take her out on the balcony right now but I know her. She’s trembling.

I ease my fingers out slowly, wrapping my arm tighter around her waist and circling her clit to work her through it. 

When she finally comes down, her body trembling and her chest heaving, I don’t pull away immediately. I stay right where I am, gently kissing at her ear and mumbling sweet nothings. My touch softened as I helped Raye ride out the aftershocks.

“Fuck,” Raye finally breathes, her voice hoarse and unsteady. She lets out a breathless laugh, her hands falling to the sides of the armrests as she stares up at the ceiling in an attempt to find her thoughts again. “You ever fuck someone else like that, I swear to fucking God, I’ll kill you.”

I can’t help but grin against her skin. It’s completely Maraye, something only she could do after sex. She curls into hold, wrapping both arms around my neck and I let her, anything that lets me get her close like this. 

“You remember what I said about making you mine tonight?” I ask, tracing circles on her lower back.

She nods. “Is that not what you just did for the last four hours?” A breathy sigh escaping her mouth. 

“That’s not what I’m talking about.” I laugh. Suddenly all the air in my lungs is missing, the words I want to say getting lodged in my throat. Raye has this way of making me forget that I’m probably the most confident person on the planet. “I—um, I want you to be my girlfriend. Just me and you, Raye.”

I watch her eyes go wide as she tugs her t-shirt back over her exposed upper body. “Wh- you don’t think it’s too soon?”

“Do you?”

“No! No, I just, are you sure?”

“Am I sure that I want you as my girlfriend? Are you kidding?” I adjust her position in my lap, helping her get settled on my lap with her face to mine. She presses her palms on my bare chest, those eyes glued to mine with the slightest smile. “Yes. I want you. Only you, Raye. I don’t care if it’s too soon, ‘cause I’ve spent the last two and a half months waiting for you to be mine. I’m making you my girl. Who gives a fuck if it’s too s—”

She cuts me off without hesitation, I think I might go drunk from how many times she’s kissed me tonight. Raye starts with soft pecks, each one causing a groan to slip past me. “Yeah.”

“Mm– yeah what, angel?” I ask, smiling all against her lips. “Gotta say it.”

She breaks the kiss, smiling right back, all teeth and gums and I think she looks fucking beautiful. “Yes, Paige. I’ll be your girlfriend.”

—

September 2025 — London, England, United Kingdom 

“So, what’s your type?” Amelia asks me, popping a fry into her mouth. She sits across from me in this booth at Morley’s Chicken, cameras surrounding the both of us. “Y’know, other than blonde and pretty with blue eyes.”

I have to hold back my giggle, because this is her thing. She flirts with all her guests while also seemingly trying to get little bits of information from my life. That’s why I know she’s describing herself, and not the girlfriend that waits for me at home in LA.

Home. A place where love is nurtured and bloomed, a place that I now can only ever associate with Paige. She’s perfect, patient, communicative, funny, slightly annoying but in a way that makes her comfortable and charming. She’s my home now.

“That’s exactly my type, actually.” I nod, wrapping my lips around the straw of my fruit punch juice box. “To a T.”

“Really?” Amelia’s accent sticks out to me immediately, making me giggle. “What’s funny?”

“I like your accent.” I say. “But yea, that’s exactly my type.” I repeat, trying my hardest to fight the growing smirk on my lips. When this episode is edited and Paige sees it, I just know she’s going to be all smiles.

Amelia nods, a posh grin and an adorable shrug of her shoulders being sent my way. “Well obviously. You wouldn’t be on a date with me then, I suppose. You are just seeing me right?” She continues with the bit.

“Of course.”

I let my mind wander off to Paige the minute I say that. It’s early here, which means she’s probably asleep back in LA. Cuddled under the covers of my bed that is slowly becoming our bed. At the apartment with my name on it but clothes and shoes and snacks that could only belong to Paige. She’d woven her way into my life, into my home, into my music. So that even now, when I’m countries away, and talking about my music career, she’s all I can think about. Because there was nothing like being with Paige. 

And I got to call her mine.

All mine.

[robinsgrl]

FEARLESS

chapter four. doors and burgers

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pairing ⇢ rafe cameron x plus size!reader

word count ⇢ 2.2k

warnings ⇢ fatphobia, insecurities, panic attack, boobies lol, Scarlett should be her own warning, daddy issues,

authors note ⇢ sorry that i messed up on my last post yall!! i confused scarlett with heather. she was supposed to be Heather but i was like….. heathers get too much crap thank you conan 😒 and i forgot to change it lol sorry!!! also i rewrote this like five times and i this was the one i was most satisfied with, so enjoy!!

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Scarlett leaves from what you can tell. People are talking about the kitchen debacle and there are mixed reviews. Some are still kissing Scarlett’s ass, others don’t like her any longer. But it doesn’t seem anyone’s on your side. You’re still invisible. You’ve since taken off your jacket that was drenched and Rafe has given you his. It’s big but it doesn’t cover you entirely, and that makes you feel so damn embarrassed.

Despite your mission being to get Jonah to see you, neither of you can find him anywhere. Kiara and Sarah had their eyes out for him as well but they’ve since lost the mission at hand. Now, you’re all sat in the living room where there are a few people dancing around Sarah who’s singing obnoxiously bad on the karaoke machine. No one has any idea where it came from but everyone is loving it.

You’re clapping along with Kiara, laughing when Sarah messes up another lyric and blames the song. For the first time in what seems like a long time, Rafe isn’t drinking. He isn’t doing much of anything but staying by your side. He’s sitting beside you, watching his sister with amusement. He refuses to clap though, only doing it when you reach over to lift his hands and make him clap.

It’s Kiara’s turn to sing when you get up off the couch and look for the bathroom in the huge figure 8 house. The home has photographs scattered, a happy family shown in them all. It might just be the beer in you that makes you want to cry. You’ve seen the kid around school before and he isn’t anything to you. Anything at all. But you’re wishing him the best. Yeah, you realize it’s the beer.

You stumble into a random room and let out a screech when a body gets up from a bed.

“What are you doing here?” Jonah’s voice sends a flutter through your belly. Your belly. Your stomach. You take a hold of Rafe’s jacket and tighten it around yourself, hiding your body from the guy you want badly.

“Oh… uhm…” you wipe the tears from your eyes that had bled out at the family pictures. “I’m looking for the bathroom.”

He’s immediately up on his feet at the sight of your tears. Your eyes widen when his hands take a hold of your round face and examines you carefully. “Are you okay? Why are you crying?”

Your breath hitches at the feel of his warm hand. It’s soft. Far too soft for a man who puts his all into the gym and football. “Oh? I… uhm… haha, what? Yeah? I'm… I’m fine. Just…” you sniffle and gently move his hand from your face. You’re refusing to meet his eyes,shy about your sadness. “The pictures… they look so happy.”

The look on his face makes you want to run away. And then, he laughs. “You’re crying because Tommy and his family look happy?”

Your mouth opens but nothing comes out, stuck. “It’s not a bad thing.” Are his words when he seems to realize how stunned you feel. “It’s… adorable.”

You fumble your words, “oh, I, uhm, yeah, okay, that’s… yeah.” To have the guy you’ve been into for years call you such a word is a rush. A scary one. But you like it. And whatever it is you did, you wish you could keep doing it until he saw you as you saw him. Perfect.

You’re still standing by the door of the random bedroom and it’d be easy to just run off. But you can’t. Making a fool of yourself in front of Jonah will only make your plan harder. And Rafe would kill you for letting his effort go to waste. “What are you doing in here?” It comes out more abrasive than you wished, internally scolding yourself.

But he doesn’t seem to mind. Rather, he takes his seat back on the bed and shrugs. “It’s noisy.”

You understand. You really, really do. And you want to say it aloud but your tongue is tied as you watch him throw his head back, his adams apple bobbing as he swallows gently. After a moment, you semi-gather yourself. “Did you leave cause of Sarah?” You joke lightly. “That’s what made me leave.”

This garners a soft laugh out of him and you want to jump up and squeal. But Rafe told you to act nonchalant. “Yeah, she’s certainly… singing.”

You take one step away from the door. Just one. You were going to sit beside him. You were going to talk to him. Really talk to him.

The door behind you swings open and hits your head. Hard. “What the fuck?” Jonah’s quick on his feet, rushing to you in a panic. You turn to look at the culprit and your frown turns into a glare. Rafe.

“What the fuck, Rafe?!” You hiss, sending a punch to his shoulder.

“Why were you standing so near the door?!”

“Why would you swing it open like a maniac?!”

“It’s not my fault you were standing there—“

“Maybe don’t open doors like that—“

“Oh, shut up, do you ever not complain—“

“Says you! You’re, like, the king of complaining—“

“King? King—“

“Should I leave?” Jonah’s soft voice speaks and you shove Rafe’s face as you look at him and smile.

“N-no, you shouldn’t have to. He was just leaving.”

“I was? I don’t— ow, fuck, okay, I’m leaving.”

The mood was ruined. Whatever mood Jonah was in was gone. And so was your confidence. It's awkward as you sit next to him on the bed. The palm of your hands are on your knees, anxiously rubbing at them. He’s laid back on the bed, arm crossed over his eyes, the only thing telling you he’s up is the soft twitch of his fingers.

“Does it hurt?” His voice cuts through the thick silence.

Panicked, you glance over at him with wide eyes. “Does… does what hurt?”

“Your head. He opened the door pretty hard.” He still doesn’t move from his position and you’re grateful he’s not looking at you. You do better when people can’t perceive you.

“Oh, my head… yeah, it’s fine, doesn’t hurt. I-it’s a little sore but I’ll make him pay for it.” You shrug, fixing Rafe’s jacket on your body.

“You two are close.” It’s supposed to be a question. It doesn’t sound like one.

You shake your head despite his eyes being covered up. “Not really. I… he’s nice but we’re not like friends.”

He sits back up and this makes you tense up, looking straight ahead at that damn door you hate now. “Just never seen him with anyone but his same three friends.”

“I’m friends with Sarah. We’re just… around each other more.” It’s a lie. But you don’t believe Rafe would want people to know just how much time you’re really spending together. The less people that know, the better.

“You and Scarlett are really done?” He questions, eyes on you. But you can’t look over at him. You’re stiff and awkward and unsure of how to act around him.

You nod softly, “y-yeah… she’s, uhm, not a very nice person.”

It’s quiet for another moment. “She’s been running her mouth about you. Calling you names. Really bad names. And all you can say is ‘she's not nice’?”

Hearing that she’s still talking about you is a punch to the guy and suddenly you don’t care about your crush. You don’t care that you two are sitting so close to each other. All you can think is how horrible she truly is. How blinded you were. And how stupid you feel for missing her. “Well… just because others are doing bad things, doesn’t mean I should. Be the bigger person and whatnot.” You let out a small and awkward laugh to try and shrug off what you’re really feeling.

“Wow.” Are his words as he gets up off the bed and walks to the dresser of the bedroom and picking up a magazine. “You’re really not like other girls.” An even bigger punch to the gut. Logically, you know he’s trying to be kind. He’s only saying this to make you feel better, your feelings on Scarlett written all over your face.

You don’t wear makeup, not like other girls do. You don’t dress up, not like other girls do. You don’t giggle over guys, not like other girls do. You don’t go out and have fun, not like other girls do. But you want to do it all. You want to be like other girls. You never felt worth it. Lipstick on a pig. You’re too big to fit trendy clothes. You don’t giggle over guys because they’d be disgusted that you’re into them. You don’t go out because you’d be the biggest out of the group of girls that are around you. You’d be an eyesore.

In a frantic move, you get up off the bed. “Right. Well, I, uh… I have to go.”

“Huh? What—“ but you don’t pay any attention to his words as you rush out of the random bedroom. There are kids littering the hallway. The steps are being used as seats, shoving people slightly as you go. The music is loud. Too loud. You can feel it bouncing in your eardrums and filling your already muddled thoughts. Theres nothing you can think about other than getting out of that damn house. And in your panicked stupor, you can’t find the damn. The house is too damn big.

There’s a couple making out in the bathroom when you rush inside and when they see the fear in your eyes, they rush out, leaving you to be.

The drive isn’t awkward. Not like you thought it would be. He didn’t question you. And despite his last text, he didn’t bring it up. And you’re grateful he didn’t.

“Where are we going?” You ask when you realize you’re headed downtown. “I want to go home, Rafe.”

He shrugs, hands on the wheel. “I’m hungry. We’re just stopping by The Wreck real quick.”

He doesn’t ask you to get down with him. He parks, heads inside, and he’s out fifteen minutes later. But he doesn’t start driving. In fact, he immediately takes a bite out of his burger, your food untouched on your lap.

“You’re not gonna eat?” He asks with his mouth full, but you don’t grimace like you should. You grab a napkin and hands it to him but he shakes his head refusing it.

“You’re dirty.”

“And you’re not eating.” He swallows his food.

“I’m not hungry.”

“You’re lying.”

“So because I'm fat, I must be hungry?” It’s a joke but the look he gives you tells you he’s not amused in the slightest. “Tough crowd. Seriously, I'm not hungry.”

“Is this that thing where you don’t eat in front of people cause you’re with a guy? Sarah told me it’s some shit she does.”

“It’s that thing where I’m not hungry, actually.” But it smells divine. Usually, you’d happily eat this but after tonight, you’re not sure if you’ll ever eat greasy foods again.

He scoffs, putting his burger down and holding a fry up at you. “Try the fry.”

“You try the fry.”

“I already did. Seriously, my mom had this trick while we were growing up. Sarah always swore she wasn’t hungry and wouldn’t get anything to eat but she’d make her try something from the plate to realize how hungry she really was.”

“How old was she?”

“My mom? She was pushing forty.”

You glare at the proud look on his face at his joke. “Sarah, stupid.”

“I don’t know… seven?”

“You’re treating me like a seven year old?”

“Try. The. Fry.” He swipes it across your lips and this gets a laugh out of you, shoving him away.

“Okay, okay! I’ll eat a fry. But that one has lipstick all over it now.” You pick a fry from his and he squints his eyes at you.

“You have a perfectly good batch.”

You pop the fry into your mouth with a content smile. “Not as good as yours.” And he was right. The salt and buttery soft fry proved to be true— you are hungry.

With a sigh, you grab your burger and say— “okay… just… don’t look.”

This amuses him. “Don’t look at you eat your burger? Well, there goes my spank bank.”

“Ew, Rafe!” You laugh, nose scrunching at his crude words.

You take a bite of your burger. And it’s absolutely delicious. Just like you knew it would be. Instead of worrying over stuffed up cheeks or looking fat while eating, you share laughs, mouths full and not a single care.

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[zyafics]

RED FERRARI CHASE | 05

MAIN | MASTERLIST | IRL & Social Media AU

Pairing — F1 Driver!Rafe x High School Sweetheart!(F)Reader

Summary — Before Rafe became one of the best drivers on the grid, he was yours. However, when his popularity skyrocketed, he became one of the most eligible bachelors in F1, leaving you behind to indulge in the notoriety of the sport. Yet, years have passed, and he hasn’t stopped thinking about you: his first love, his high school sweetheart, the only person to believe in him. When new management takes over his team, he’s afraid their new strategy could undermine his role in the cutthroat league. But in an unexpected twist of fate, Rafe discovers you returning to the circuit as part of the new leadership—now, with a ring on your finger. Engaged to his boss.

Content — formula one au

Navigation — Part 04 | Part 05 | Part 06

You nearly jump out of your skin. The voice was close—too close to be a figment of your imagination. And when you pick up the steady breaths of another person occupying your space, you know it to be true. With all the hairs standing on your arms, you slowly turn around to face the owner of the voice: Rafe Cameron.

He’s casually leaning against the counter on the opposite end of the kitchen, a couple of cold brews beside him, while his arms are crossed over his chest. Expectantly.

This is exactly what you were trying to avoid.

“Hi,” you squeak, all confidence from your call vanishing.

“Hi,” Rafe echoes, a lopsided smile tugging at his lips. Instinctively, you tighten the hold of your snack to your chest.

“Hi,” you repeat, heart hammering wildly, losing every ounce of composure you’re trying to muster. But it’s clearly not going well given you’re unable to say any other word without stumbling into a complete mess.

“Hi,” he laughs, a rich airy sound that leaves your stomach twisting and turning. You don’t understand what’s so funny, especially since you want nothing more than to melt into a puddle at your own feet. “Is that the only word you know or can you answer me now?”

Your mind blanks. You can’t recall the question proposed, and as time ticks, the discomfort from the lack of knowledge expands. Just as you’re about to run out of the room, Rafe notices, and repeats back to you.

“Oh,” you mumble, fidgeting with your snack. “Um, I—um, well, Kiara.”

“Carrera?” His head tilts, the carefree smile widening and a small dimple pokes out, rewarding you for your answer. “You’re friends with her?”

You nod, not trusting your voice.

"So that’s who you’re complaining to about us being obnoxious?"

Your face burns up. Your mouth pops open, but nothing falls through.

Someone in the living room calls for him. “In a minute!” He shouts, his eyes never straying from your face, observing and taking in every ounce of embarrassment filtering your features. He asks again, “A simple yes or no will do.”

“It’s not like that,” you blurt out, the words tumbling over themselves. “I just–You know how you guys always—I mean, you have to know—“

“Look,” he chuckles, holding out a hand, stopping you from making a bigger fool of yourself. “I get it. We’re loud. But you don’t have to afraid. We don’t bite.” He says, before pausing, the corner of his mouth lifts into a smirk. “Unless you ask us to.”

“I–“ You have no words. You don’t even know what to say. “I’m sorry.”

‘Why are you apologizing, you’re right.” He shrugs. His eyes sweep over your body, familiarity trickling in. “You’re the tutor girl, right? The one in my grade?”

You’re surprised Rafe knows this. While you may be in his year, you don’t circulate the same crowd as him—aka, the ones hanging around your brother and his peers of F1 enthusiasts.

“Yeah,” you answer with a quiet nod. “Mainly for science.”

“I like science,” he grins, but there’s a subtle tone of innuendo, causing your stomach to flutter. “So, if I need help, I can come to you?”

Your eyes widen, expecting this to be a joke. But nothing but sincerity covers his features. A brow raised as he’s patiently awaiting your confirmation.

Someone calls out again, more urgently this time. “Just a sec!” He snaps, his irritation hardens his features in a matter of seconds, his words coming out as sharp. But when he drags his gaze back to you, all of it disappears. “Yeah?”

You bite your bottom lip. Contemplating, before inevitably, deliriously, and perhaps stupidly, nodding. “Yeah.”

“Alright, I’ll keep that in mind.” He says with a wink, pushing himself off the counter and collecting the beers with one hand before walking back into the living room.

It takes a few seconds before your breath catches up after Rafe’s departure. When all the air fills to your lungs, a sense of sobriety unveils itself, and you exhale sharply. You can’t believe that just happened, and as you collect your phone to return to the room, you discover Kiara is still on the line.

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[wosoloml]

— second chance || emily fox x reader

[ “I messed up by breaking up with you, because ever since then, I’ve been missing you everyday.” ]

summary: After having her heart broken by Emily, the reader decided to seize the opportunity for a fresh start in her career by moving to London. Little did she know, her worst nightmare wasi about to come true. But sometimes, nightmares have a way of transforming into the sweetest of dreams.

from this request

wc: 1,744 words. | masterlist

warnings: fluff, mention of heartbreak, angst, secret flirtings, jealousy, happy end

——-

"There is no future for us. I need to leave," were the last words Emily said to me as she walked out of our apartment. Well, not our apartment anymore.

This was the last thing I expected when I came home after interviewing the local handball team, excited to share some amazing news I had received at work.

I walked in with the biggest smile on my face, and we both said at the same time, "I want to talk to you about something." Little did I know that by the end of the conversation, I’d be alone in what used to be our home.

Usually, I’m the one who shares big news first, but this time, I decided to let Emily go ahead. I thought she’d need time to process the fact that the Arsenal Football Club had offered me a position on their media team. Letting her start felt like the considerate thing to do.

What a mistake that turned out to be.

If I’m honest, I don’t even remember how I survived the first night. Curled up in my bed, crying my eyes out, and consumed by the question, "Why?"

Everything began a few years ago when we met at UNC. It started with a little crush on the athletic girl, stealing glances every time we passed each other in the hallway.

After months of back-and-forth and a lot of help from our friends Alessia and Lotte, we finally started dating. It was never easy, especially with football becoming such a big part of Emily’s life, but she always treated me like I was the girl of her dreams. I couldn’t have been happier.

Doing long-distance was a significant challenge for us. She signed her first professional contract with Racing Louisville FC, while I was just starting my first year at the sports journalism academy. But our love was always stronger—stronger than any distance or circumstances. We were supposed to be a team.

Everything became so much easier and better when she finally moved back after joining North Carolina Courage. It felt like the greatest relief.

For days after she told me she was coming back, I fell asleep and woke up with the biggest smile on my face.

Eleven months, two cats, and one apartment later, here I am—without anything. I lost the love of my life simply because she "needed to focus on her career."

We were a team, but now she preferred a solo performance.

She was even too cowardly to come here and pick up her things when I was home. The only message I got from her was:

"When does your shift start, so I know when to get my stuff?"

- EF

EF? Is she serious? We spent the last six years together, went through everything, and shared so many firsts. And the only thing she adds to her message are her initials?

It's pathetic.

---

At 9:00, I arrived at the base camp of THE Arsenal Women's Football Club for this year's training camp in Spain.

It’s been a year and a half since I made the decision to start fresh and begin a new life. A year and a half since a certain American girl broke my heart. Coming to London was the best decision I ever made.

One of my closest friends from college is here with me. Without Lessi and Lotte’s support in those early months, I don't know where I'd be. I came to London with nothing but two cats and a suitcase. Now, I’m the happiest I’ve ever been.

"Y/N!!" I heard a familiar voice shout my name. As I turned around, I saw my favorite defender.

"Lottee, my girl!" I grinned, my smile growing wider as I pulled her into a tight hug.

"How’s my favorite girl? Ready for today’s media day? The first one during training camp in Spain?"

She chuckled. "I can’t wait to get sunburned. You know my British skin isn’t used to that much sun."

As I followed Lotte to her first media date of the day, we passed the changing room, and I suddenly heard a familiar voice. My heart stopped. This can't be real. No, it's not real—maybe I just overheard something.

"What's up, Y/N?" Lotte immediately noticed the shift in my behavior, but I tried to play it cool.

"Nothing. I just thought I heard someone's voice, but that can't be real," I replied.

She nodded, but I could sense a slight change in her mood.

I’m just paranoid. That’s it, for sure.

"Y/N? Could you possibly anchor the 'First Day at Arsenal' segment with our new signing today? It's not public yet that she transferred to London, but we wanted to take advantage of our training camp in Spain to shoot some nice scenes," the media team leader said.

I looked at him, confused. "I didn't know we got a new signing."

"Really? Everyone knows that. Especially Alessia and Lotte Wubben-Moy—they already know her from previous teams. Funny, huh?"

No. I’m just paranoid again. I know it. This cant be happening.

---

"Hey y/n".

That's it. That's the moment I’ve been scared of the whole day. No, scratch that—I've been scared of it for the last 18 months.

I haven’t heard her voice since that specific day she left me in our old apartment. I thought I’d be okay hearing my name from her lips again. God, was I wrong.

"Since when are you here?" I had to hold myself back from laughing at my own question. The first thing I asked her after she cut me out of her life was when she came to Arsenal. If someone had told me this morning that I’d say that, I would’ve laughed in their face.

"My plane from North Carolina landed this morning. It’s not official that I’ve transferred, but they decided spontaneously that I could join the girls here at camp already. I didn’t know you were working here, I promise. I would’ve told you about the transfer."

It’s over for me now. A small chuckle escaped my lips. "You would’ve told me? What would you have said to me? 'Hey, Y/N, by the way, I’m moving to the club where you work, after destroying your life a year and a half ago. Ready to ruin your new life too?' Because that’s what you’re doing right now. You’re destroying my new life. I came to London with nothing. But not with me, Emily. This time, you won’t take everything from me. This is my home."

I slightly shouted at her. She just stared at me. I’m done with her now. Turning around, I left.

---

As the days pass, I have to admit that maybe I’m not completely over her.

It all began when we both became nervous around each other during the "First Day at Arsenal" segment, and it continued with secret touches on the beach and our eyes searching for each other in a room full of teammates and staff.

It’s been difficult to admit that I still get butterflies when she’s near, and that this chapter isn’t as closed as I once thought. Am I ready to let her in again? She hurt me in a way no one else ever has, and that’s something I’ll never forget. But I just miss her, that’s all. Nothing more... or is there more?

It was our last evening in Spain, and the entire staff and team went out for drinks at a local bar. This time, my mind wasn’t occupied by a certain brunette American.

Instead, it was an Irish defender who caught my attention.

It wasn’t the first time Katie McCabe and I had spent time together outside of work. I wouldn’t exactly call it flirting, but we always had a good time laughing together. She knows how to talk to a woman, and let’s just say she’s not hard on the eyes either, so it’s a win-win situation, isn’t it?

When Katie rested her hands on my waist, it was enough to set Emily off. She grabbed me by the arm and pulled me outside. I was too stunned by her actions to even react.

"Is she your new girl?" she asked, her voice sharp. I had to hide a smirk.

"What do you mean, Emily?"

"You heard me. Is Katie McCabe your new girlfriend?" I chuckled again, maybe a bit tipsy from the drinks Katie had bought for me.

"No."

Emily didn’t believe me. I could see it in her eyes.

"Then explain to me why you’re giggling at every statement she makes and why the hell are her hands allowed on your body?"

My face grew serious. "What’s this, Emily? Are you jealous of someone who’s just being friendly? You? The one who ended this relationship, if I may remind you?"

That was it. That was the boiling point for Emily.

"I messed up by breaking up with you, because ever since then, I’ve been missing you every single day," she shouted, her voice frantic. My eyes widened, and my heart melted at her words.

Without thinking, I leaned in and pressed my lips to hers.

"Finally!" Lotte and Alessia cheered from inside the bar. Finally.

The plane landed in London. Coming back home, my hands locked with the girl I’ve always loved. This is us now—forever.

[iamgonnagetyouback]

childhood sweethearts and paper rings

james potter x reader where you both realize your love through paper rings

↬ word count : 3,438 words ˎˊ˗

↬ warnings : fluff overload, pining, a sprinkle of angst but resolved quickly, excessive paper rings

↬ inspired from : (a bit) ➺ paper rings by taylor swift ♡

↬ author's note : childhood best friends to lovers is james potter’s ultimate trope. argue with the wall.

navigation┆james potter masterlist┆request here 𝜗𝜚

James Potter was seven years old when he decided that he was going to marry you. He didn’t understand much about marriage—only that it meant you’d be together forever, which sounded like the best thing in the world. After all, you were his best friend, and if forever wasn’t you, then who else could it be for?

The Potters and your family were close friends, and most weekends, you were bundled into the fireplace to floo to their house. James would meet you on the other side, grinning wildly and already tugging your arm to drag you outside. The two of you were inseparable, whether you were building forts in the garden or chasing each other around with toy brooms.

“Sunny, you’re supposed to catch it!” James exclaimed one summer afternoon as he tossed a quaffle your way. His glasses slid down his nose, and he pushed them up impatiently.

“I’m trying!” you yelled back, laughing as the ball sailed past your outstretched arms. You were too busy giggling to notice James running to retrieve it. He came back with dirt on his knees and his hair even messier than usual.

“We’ll practice until you’re as good as me,” he declared, puffing out his chest in mock importance.

You scrunched up your nose, sticking your tongue out at him. “What if I don’t want to be good at Quidditch? What if I want to be the best cake-eater in the world?”

James grinned, his own cheeks turning pink. “Then I’ll be the second-best. We can do it together.”

By the time you were eight, James had discovered the fine art of crafting paper rings. It started when he saw his mum making origami flowers for a party. Naturally, he wasn’t allowed near the good parchment—but his dad handed him some scraps, and the rest was history.

The first paper ring James gave you was lopsided, crumpled at the edges, and had a faint ink smudge from where he’d tried to draw a flower on it. You’d accepted it with wide, delighted eyes, slipping it onto your finger like it was made of gold.

“What’s this for?” you’d asked, holding it up to inspect the crooked folds.

“It’s…” James hesitated, suddenly bashful. “It’s a promise. You’re my best friend, and I’ll always be there for you.”

You grinned so brightly he thought his chest might burst. “I’ll always be there for you too, Jamie!” you chirped, and the name stuck, much to his parents’ amusement.

At nine, you and James built a treehouse. Or at least, you started to. James had insisted on using magic, and after much begging and wheedling, his mum had charmed a few planks of wood into place.

“It’ll be our secret hideout,” James said as you hammered nails into the rickety ladder.

“For what?” you asked, holding the ladder steady. Your hair was sticking to your forehead, and there was a streak of mud on your cheek, but you couldn’t have been happier.

“For… secret plans,” James decided. “Like how we’ll sneak extra pudding without anyone noticing.”

You beamed. “And maybe we can put all the paper rings here too. Like a treasure chest!”

He thought that was the best idea ever.

By ten, James had made you more paper rings than either of you could count. Some were decorated with little doodles, others with clumsy attempts at flowers or hearts. You kept them all in a shoebox under your bed, treasuring them like the precious artifacts they were.

One rainy afternoon, you and James sat cross-legged on the rug in his room, watching the droplets streak down the window.

“Sunny,” James said, breaking the comfortable silence. “Do you know what love is?”

You tilted your head, considering. “Not really. I think it’s when someone makes you really happy. Like my mum when she bakes my favorite cookies.”

James nodded thoughtfully. “Yeah. I think it’s when someone does things for you. Like… like when you gave me the bigger half of your pie last week.”

You grinned, your toothy smile making his cheeks heat up. “Then I think love is when you gave me your scarf when I was cold.”

He grinned back, lopsided and bright. “Maybe love is when we’re best friends forever.”

When you turned eleven, everything began to change. A letter arrived, delivered by an official-looking owl, and James practically dragged you across the room to celebrate.

“We’re going to Hogwarts together!” he exclaimed, lifting you off the ground in his excitement. “This is going to be the best year ever!”

You squealed, clutching onto him as he spun you around. “Jamie, I’m so excited!”

Later that day, he gave you another paper ring. It was neater this time, folded carefully with gold-trimmed parchment he’d begged off his mum.

“This one’s special,” James said solemnly as you slipped it onto your finger.

“Why?” you asked, tilting your head.

“Because it’s the last one before Hogwarts,” he said. “But I’ll make you loads more when we’re there.”

You beamed, clutching the ring to your chest. “Best friends forever?”

“Forever,” he promised.

And that was the thing about James Potter. Even when he didn’t fully understand what love was, he knew one thing: it was always going to be you.

At Hogwarts, you quickly became part of the infamous Marauders. James, Sirius, Remus, Peter, and you. Whether it was sneaking into the kitchens for late-night snacks or plotting pranks on the Slytherins, the five of you were inseparable.

James had a knack for getting the group into trouble, and you had a knack for talking your way out of it.

“It’s not my fault Snape looks so funny when his robes turn pink,” James argued one day, as you all hid in an empty classroom after a particularly successful prank.

“You used an entire bottle of dye,” Remus pointed out dryly, though he was biting back a smile.

“Totally worth it,” Sirius said, high-fiving James.

Peter chuckled nervously. “Do you think he’ll ever figure out it was us?”

“Who cares?” you said, laughing. “Jamie, you’re brilliant.”

James beamed at your praise, his grin so wide it threatened to split his face.

But while James was fearless in most things, there was one subject that turned him into a bumbling mess: Lily Evans, although you understood the feeling, cause she was gorgeous.

“Merlin’s beard, just look at her,” James sighed dreamily one afternoon as the five of you sat under a tree by the Black Lake. Lily was a few yards away, reading a book and flipping her hair over her shoulder.

“You’re staring again,” you teased, nudging him with your shoulder.

James turned red. “I am not!”

“You absolutely are,” Sirius chimed in, smirking. “If you’re going to pine, at least do it with some dignity, Prongs.”

“I’m not pining!” James protested, though his voice cracked slightly.

Remus raised an eyebrow. “You drew a heart with her initials in your Transfiguration notes yesterday.”

“I did not!” James said, horrified.

Peter nodded enthusiastically. “You did. I saw it too.”

You burst out laughing, leaning into James as he groaned and buried his face in his hands. “Jamie, it’s okay to have a crush. Especially if it's on Evans. I do too but the difference is you’re terrible at hiding it.”

“You lot are the worst,” he muttered, though he couldn’t hide the small smile creeping onto his face.

Despite the relentless teasing, you were always James’ biggest supporter. When he finally worked up the courage to ask Lily out in your fifth year, you were the one who gave him the pep talk beforehand.

“You’re James Potter,” you said firmly, gripping his shoulders. “You’re charming, funny, and completely brilliant. If she doesn’t say yes, it’s her loss.”

James smiled nervously. “You really think so?”

“I know so,” you said confidently.

And even though a small part of you felt a twinge of something you couldn’t quite name, you pushed it aside. Because James was your best friend, and you’d always be there for him—just like he’d always be there for you.

It happened gradually, so slowly that you didn’t notice at first. The paper rings, once a constant in your life, became fewer and fewer. By sixth year, they stopped altogether. You told yourself it didn’t matter—after all, you and James were still thick as thieves. He was busy with Quidditch, the Marauders, and his relentless pursuit of Lily Evans.

But deep down, you missed them.

Then one day, an owl from your parents arrived during breakfast in the Great Hall. You tore open the envelope eagerly, only to feel your stomach drop as you read the letter.

The treehouse at the Potters burned down.

Your chest ached as you reread the words. The treehouse, your secret hideout, the place where you’d kept all the paper rings James had ever given you—gone. Reduced to ashes.

You left the Great Hall in a daze, clutching the letter as tears blurred your vision. It wasn’t just a treehouse. It was years of memories, laughter, and promises that now felt lost forever. You needed to tell James. He would understand.

You found him in the courtyard, a broad grin on his face as he spoke animatedly to Lily. She was laughing, her green eyes sparkling in the sunlight, and for a moment, you hesitated.

Then you saw it: a paper ring in his hand. Your heart clenched painfully as he turned it over in his fingers, showing it to Lily with the same excitement he’d once reserved for you.

You felt a lump form in your throat. It was silly, really. You’d known for years that James fancied Lily. You’d encouraged him, teased him, supported him. And yet, seeing him with a paper ring—your paper ring—meant for her…

It felt like losing a part of yourself.

You turned on your heel and walked away before he could see you, the letter crumpled in your hand. As you hurried back to the common room, you tried to push the image from your mind, but it clung stubbornly.

You told yourself it didn’t matter. Maybe Lily had finally agreed to a date. Maybe the ring wasn’t even for her. Maybe, maybe, maybe…

But the ache in your chest told a different story.

You didn’t sleep much that night. The weight of the treehouse’s destruction—and the memories it held—pressed heavily on your chest. When morning came, you dragged yourself to breakfast, your usual bubbly demeanor dimmed.

James was already there, sitting with Sirius, Remus, and Peter, recounting some Quidditch play. He caught sight of you as you approached, and his grin faltered.

“Morning, sunny,” he greeted, nudging the bench beside him. “You look like you didn’t sleep a wink.”

You plopped down next to him, twisting the edge of your sleeve. “James… the..the treehouse, it burned down.”

His face froze, confusion quickly giving way to shock. “What?” His voice was soft, barely above a whisper.

You handed him the crumpled letter. He read it, his expression shifting to heartbreak. “Our treehouse? The one we built with my mum’s old cushions and all the fairy lights?”

You nodded, your throat tight. “All the paper rings… they were in there, James.”

For a moment, he just stared at the letter. Then, without warning, he pulled you into a tight hug. His arms wrapped around you like they used to when you were kids, and you buried your face in his shoulder, letting the familiar scent of parchment and pine comfort you.

“I’m so sorry,” he murmured, his voice thick with emotion. “I didn’t think—I didn’t realize—”

You missed the way his breath hitched, his soft oh of realization. Missed the quick glance he threw across the table to Lily, whose knowing gaze met his. Her lips curled into the faintest smile, as if she understood something neither of you had quite pieced together yet.

But you were too caught up in the hug, too lost in your own heartbreak to notice anything else.

James Potter was not one to do things halfway. The moment he realized how much those paper rings had meant to you, he made it his mission to bring them back into your life in abundance. It started small—a single paper ring folded neatly and tucked into your Potions book during class.

“James,” you whispered, holding it up with an amused smile. “You’re going to get us in trouble.”

“Trouble’s my middle name,” he whispered back, grinning mischievously before turning back to Slughorn’s lecture like he hadn’t just slid a tiny masterpiece of folded parchment into your life.

But James Potter didn’t stop at small. Soon, the paper rings started appearing everywhere. One in your bag during Transfiguration. Another tucked into your scarf at breakfast. A stack of them slid under your pillow one night. He even charmed one to float down from the owlery like a paper snowflake as you walked past.

The grandest moment came during Defense Against the Dark Arts. James, thinking he was being discreet, crept over to your desk mid-lecture to slip a particularly colorful ring onto your parchment. Just as he leaned down, a shadow loomed over both of you.

“Ahem,” Professor McGonagall’s sharp voice cut through the room like a knife. The class went silent, every head swiveling to witness James Potter caught red-handed.

James straightened, a sheepish grin spreading across his face. “Just delivering a very important piece of classwork, Professor,” he said smoothly, holding up the paper ring as if it were a prized essay.

McGonagall’s lips twitched, though she worked hard to suppress a smile. “Very well, Mr. Potter. But if I catch you again, you’ll be writing lines until your quill runs out of ink.”

“Yes, Professor,” James said solemnly, though his wink to Sirius betrayed him.

As McGonagall turned back to the blackboard, you swore you saw her glance over her shoulder and wink—wink—at you. For a moment, you questioned your sanity.

By the end of the week, you had more paper rings than you knew what to do with. You didn’t have the heart to throw them away—not after all the effort James had gone to—so you started collecting them in an old chocolate box you found in your dorm.

Every night, you added the day’s rings to the collection, tracing your fingers over the creases and folds as you smiled to yourself. It was ridiculous, really. They were just bits of paper, after all. But each one felt like a tiny promise—a reminder of a boy who made the world brighter simply by being in it.

It was another morning at the Gryffindor table, and James was unusually quiet. Normally, he’d be drumming his fingers on the table, bantering with Sirius, or laughing at something Peter said. But today, he was poking at his eggs, lost in thought.

Remus noticed first. Of course, he did. “You haven’t mentioned Lily in a while,” he remarked, raising an eyebrow. “What happened? Did she finally hex you into silence?”

Sirius barked a laugh, and Peter snorted into his pumpkin juice. But James just shrugged, looking nonchalant.

“Oh, yeah, about that,” he said casually, as if he weren’t about to drop a bombshell. “Well… that’s not happening.”

Your fork clattered onto your plate. “Really?” you blurted, a little too loudly. You immediately ducked your head, heat rushing to your cheeks.

James smirked, but it wasn’t his usual mischievous one—it was softer, more thoughtful. “Yeah, she kind of pointed out that I might have feelings for someone else.”

The table went silent. Even Sirius, who rarely let anything keep him quiet for long, was staring at James in surprise.

“And?” Remus prompted, leaning forward like he already knew the answer.

“And I realized… she was right,” James admitted, his voice quieter now.

“Oh,” you said softly, trying to ignore the way your heart was racing. “That’s… interesting.”

“Yeah,” James said, turning to look at you with a curious expression. “It is.”

For a moment, his hazel eyes seemed to search yours, like he was trying to figure out if you knew what he meant—if you felt the same.

But before he could say anything else, Sirius, who clearly couldn’t handle the suspense, interrupted with a loud, “So, who’s the lucky person, Prongs? Don’t leave us hanging!”

James flushed, the tips of his ears turning pink as he grabbed a piece of toast and stuffed it into his mouth, muttering something unintelligible.

“Oh, come on,” Sirius teased, elbowing him. “Out with it, mate!”

But James just shook his head, laughing nervously. “Not telling,” he mumbled through a mouthful of toast.

The conversation shifted after that, Sirius dragging Peter into a heated debate about whether or not owls secretly judged their owners, and you found yourself staring at your plate, your thoughts spinning.

You didn’t know what to make of James’ words. Who was he talking about? Was it someone you knew? Was it… you?

You glanced at James out of the corner of your eye. He was laughing now, teasing Peter about his messy handwriting, but there was something different about him—something softer.

You pushed the thought away. It couldn’t be you. Could it?

The Owlery was quiet, save for the soft hoots of the owls roosting in their perches. You had just tied your letter to your parents onto a barn owl’s leg, stroking its feathers as it took off into the morning light. Beside you, James was doing the same, his handwriting as messy as ever but filled with his usual warmth and charm.

As his owl soared into the sky, you lingered by the ledge, watching the horizon. James leaned beside you, his shoulder brushing against yours.

For a moment, neither of you said anything. The silence was comfortable, the kind that came with years of friendship. But you couldn’t stop thinking about breakfast, about what he’d said, and about the way he’d looked at you.

“So,” you started, your voice soft, “this… someone else you might have feelings for.”

James froze, his hands gripping the stone ledge. “Oh,” he said, his voice an octave higher than usual. “That.”

You turned to face him, your heart thudding in your chest. “Yeah, that.”

James rubbed the back of his neck, avoiding your gaze. “Right. Well…” He hesitated, his usual confidence faltering. “It’s… complicated.”

“Complicated how?” you asked, taking a step closer.

He glanced at you then, his hazel eyes searching yours. “Because, well because it’s you,” he said quietly.

The words hung in the air, delicate and trembling. You stared at him, your mouth slightly open in surprise. “Me?”

“Yeah,” James said, his cheeks flushing pink. “It’s always been you, I think. I just… didn’t realize it until Lily pointed it out. And then when I thought about it—about us—it just made sense, you know? You’ve always been there. You’ve always been you.”

Your heart was pounding so loudly you were sure he could hear it. “James…”

“I know it might be weird,” he said quickly, misinterpreting your silence. “And if you don’t feel the same, that’s okay. I just thought you should know, because I—”

“I feel the same,” you blurted out, cutting him off.

He blinked at you, his mouth hanging open. “You do?”

You nodded, a shy smile spreading across your face. “I do.”

For a moment, James just stared at you, as if he couldn’t quite believe what he was hearing. Then, slowly, his lips curled into the biggest, brightest grin you’d ever seen.

“Brilliant,” he said softly, almost to himself.

You laughed, the sound light and bubbly, and he joined in, his joy infectious. Before you knew it, he was stepping closer, his hand reaching for yours.

“I, uh, don’t have a proper ring,” he said, his voice nervous but warm. “But…” He reached into his pocket and pulled out a familiar folded strip of parchment.

Your breath hitched as he gently slipped the paper ring onto your finger, his touch lingering. “There,” he said, his smile soft and a little shy. “Perfect.”

You looked down at the ring, your chest swelling with warmth. It was so James—simple, sweet, and utterly wonderful.

“Perfect,” you echoed, your voice barely above a whisper.

When you looked up, he was already watching you, his hazel eyes filled with something so soft and tender it made your knees weak.

“Does this mean you’re stuck with me?” you teased, your cheeks aching from how hard you were smiling.

“Forever, if you’ll have me,” James said, grinning.

And as the owls cooed above and the sunlight bathed the two of you in gold, you knew you would. Forever and always.

[pboogerswbb]

SO IT GOES - chapter 5

Paige Bueckers x oc Warnings: language, sexual themes and language, drinking, not my best work lol Wordcount: 6.6K A/C: so have we come up with a shipname for zari and paige yet?? anyways ty all for the support and sooo much love on the last part - especially those who remained patient for a new part! i've got a LOT of stuff going on rn so please be understanding if parts take a little longer to come out! i wanna write badly but i gotta prioritise real life unless y'all wanna start paying me lol anyways, this should be a rewarding chapter to some of y'all!! anyways go read!!

-

Before London

“The skirt,” my childhood friend Olivia’s voice filters through the speaker, my phone set up on my bed as I try on different outfits for the evening on facetime. 

I stare into my reflection, the black miniskirt not leaving much to imagination, my legs fully on display. I sigh, unsure whether it would be too much for the night.

“I don’t know Liv, the dress is a little less revealing though,” I complain, turning around and seeing the way the tight skirt hugs my curves.

“Exactly why you should wear the skirt instead.”

I laugh, shaking my head at her face on my phone screen. “I’m not going there to shag someone. It’s going to be mostly the team anyway.”

“Izzie, you are single now. Act like it. Have you even hooked up with anyone since…?”

I scoff. “Do you think I have time for anything like that?”

“Maybe if you schedule it in…” Olivia jokes, making my mouth fall open feeling offended.

“Hey! I’m perfectly happy being single right now. Love is the last thing I should be thinking about.”

“Well, I still think you should wear the skirt,” the girl answers, making me groan.

“Fine, okay gotta go. I’ll text you!” I wave bye, before hanging up, realising my ride must have arrived. One more glance in the mirror and I decide it will do - the black mini skirt and a matching black cowl neck top, the back draped low to reveal the smooth skin of my back along my spine. The outfit was simple yet sexy, the stacked chunky golden jewelry dressing the look up. I’ve pinned my hair up in a bun, curls falling out as if by accident - in reality the hairdo had taken over 45 minutes to accomplish.

“Good enough,” I murmur to myself, putting on my boots and quickly hurrying out the door. Just like we had agreed, Trey is waiting in an Uber, waving me over. He had sent me a message earlier asking if we could ride together. Of course I had said yes out of politeness. Though if I’m honest, I always felt a little uneasy around him.

“Hey!” I smile politely climbing into the backseat with a potted orchid in my hands.

Trey meets my smile with an even wider one, eyeing me up and down as I buckle my seatbelt.

“Housewarming present?” He asks, pointing to the potted flower. I shrug and nod.

“I didn’t really know what to get them,” I admit, crossing my legs and eyeing the purple and white flower.

“Lala’s gonna love that,” Trey nods, his eyes still locked on me and my outfit. “You look…” he goes silent, and from my peripheral vision I see the man shaking his head. “Really good.”

“Oh, thanks,” I mumble, brushing it off lightheartedly as I grab my phone which is frantically buzzing.

Paige  When are u coming? I’m already here and idk anyone Oh nvm Lou and Chris are here So… when u coming???

I feel my stomach doing flips as I read the texts, my mind still swirling with how she’d made me breakfast just earlier this morning. How my couch still smells just like her even hours later. I wasn’t sure what it was, but there was something comforting about her presence. The way she worked to make me laugh, to get me to relax. Like she wanted to take care of me.

Just left so I should be there soon x

Izzie Iz Help We’re drinking wine

Time to be a big girl and learn Paige

But I don’t wanna 🙁 Fine Bc you said so

Good girl

Freaky 😏

Paige

Sorry I pregamed

Of course you did I’ll be there soon x

Giggling at my phone, I place it on my lap, not wanting to be rude towards the man sitting next to me. Trey’s eyes are locked on me, and I can feel myself growing uneasy, especially when I realise I have nothing to talk to him about other than work.

”You excited for tonight?” He asks.

”Yeah, it’s going to be nice to see everyone out of work,” I answer, keeping my composure despite feeling awkward, begging he doesn’t pick up on it. I had become quite good at that (or Trey was more ignorant than I realised).

”Oh yeah, you haven’t really had the chance to do that yet huh?” He asks, his deep voice gravelly.

“Not really no.”

“Well, if you ever get lonely, you can always call me up Zari,” Trey says, reaching over and suddenly placing his hand on mine resting on my lap. I keep still as long as I can before pulling it away, pretending I just needed that specific hand to hold the pot in my lap now.

“Uh, yeah that’s really sweet of you. Thank you,” I chuckle awkwardly. “Paige lives right upstairs actually so I’ve been spending some time with her.”

Trey is taken aback, his brows rising. “Paige?”

“Yeah we’re friends,” I smile. Trey’s dark brown eyes keep watching me, clearly thinking about something till he shrugs and looks away. 

The drive is quiet, full of awkward comments by the man clearly eager to make conversation. Normally I was better than this at the small talk that the Americans seemed to love so much - but not today. I could feel my stomach twisting with nerves and butterflies in anticipation for the evening. I wasn’t entirely sure why. But all I knew I was eager to see Paige - she had a way of grounding me.

We finally get to the building, awkwardly accompanying each other in the elevator much like my first day working for the Wings. I’m the one to ring the doorbell, Trey standing close behind me.

“Hey pretty girl!” Lala opens the door with a warm smile. “Oh hey Trey, come in come in!”

She steps aside, letting both of us in. The hallway is long and the ceilings are high, the space modern but filled with gorgeous furniture bringing warmth into the space. 

“Wow, beautiful,” I gasp looking around.

“Issa work in process,” Lala laughs. I catch a glimpse into the open concept kitchen/living room, filled with people who had arrived on time unlike me and Trey (our Uber had taken a “shortcut”, which ended up taking 15 minutes longer than the normal drive.) I could tell alcohol was already flowing from the loud laughs echoing around the apartment.

“Oh, here you go!” I smile, handing Lala the orchid. “I wasn’t sure what you two wanted so I hope that’s okay.”

Lala gasps, admiring the plant. “No, this is gorg! And so are you, look at that skirt girl.”

I blush a little as she spins me around, admiring my outfit. 

“Is it too short?” I ask but Lala looks at me with raised brows. It’s then I notice her skirt is just as short, if not shorter. “Nevermind!”

The woman laughs, wrapping an arm around my waist and bringing me further into the apartment. My eyes immediately land on Paige next to Arike, both taking up half of the couch as if partaking in the Olympics of manspreading. Their laughs rise above the chatter of the crowd, making them impossible to miss. Even if subconsciously I had been looking for the blonde the second I stepped in.

“Yeah… they’re already drunk, thought you should know,” Lala nods towards the two.

“I heard, Paige was texting me already.”

The woman turns to me grinning a little. “Of course she was.” I’m not exactly sure what it means but don’t get the opportunity to ask before I hear a loud screech interrupting the both of us.

“Izzie!!” Paige gasps, her voice soaring above the noise. She climbs off the couch, rushing to me through the crowd. To my surprise the blonde wraps her arms around me, pulling me into a tight hug. I can’t help the smile that spreads to my face. It comes naturally, when my arms wrap around her neck, pulling her in. Like since our first hug this morning, physical closeness felt easy. She smells like deodorant, sandalwood and a hint of alcohol. Breaking the hug, I eye her fit up and down - the olive cuban collar shirt and shorts in a matching pattern, two silver chains dangling on her neck, hair in a slicked back bun. 

All while I’ve been admiring Paige’s outfit, her gaze has been roaming across my body, taking me in. I notice a hint of red burning on her cheeks when her blue eyes land on my skirt. Suddenly I have the strongest need for a drink. Our stares meet, and for a fleeting moment I think she’s about to say something. But before she can, Arike is pulling me into a friendly hug.

“So glad you came, Zari! Whatchu wanna drink?” 

I feel flustered, barely hearing her. Clearing my throat, I finally answer, feeling the blonde’s eyes boring into me.

“White wine please?”

Lala laughs, shaking her head and grabbing my shoulders. “You’re gonna need something stronger to keep up with us baby.”

I laugh. “Okay, tequila soda then?”

“Attagirl, lime?”

“Yes please,” I nod, watching Lala and Arike head towards the kitchen island covered in bottles of booze and glasses, leaving me alone with Paige. 

For the first time in weeks, there’s a sense of awkwardness between us, neither of us knowing what to say. I wanted to tell her she looks good, that the olive against her skin that had grown more tan in Dallas made her glow in a way I had never seen before. But something in my throat doesn’t allow the words to come out. Thankfully the booze in Paige’s system makes her miss the weird tension completely.

“You look,” she starts, stepping closer to me, arm brushing against mine. She shakes her head, looking me up and down which is enough to make my ears burn. “Never seen you look like this before.”

I tilt my head, meeting her blue eyes challengingly. “Is that supposed to be a compliment?”

To my enjoyment, this makes her flustered, her cheeks bright pink now.

“You know it is ma,” she grins.

“You and that bloody nickname,” I shake my head, rolling my eyes at the blonde, when Lala and Arike return to us with my drink.

“You guys wanna play beer pong?” Arike asks as I grab the glass from Lala.

“What is this, a frat house?” Paige laughs, making Lala groan.

“Trust, it wasn’t my choice.”

-

After a long debate between me, Izzie, Arike and Lala on who should be teaming up, we decided that the only fair combination was me with Lala, while Arike and Izzie played against us - the girls claiming it wouldn’t be right for the two hoopers to play beer pong against non-athletes. Honestly, I barely had listened to the conversation at all. Because the way Izzie looks tonight has me grasping the drink in my hand so tight my knuckles were beginning to turn white. My mind is travelling to the filthiest places at the thought of what is underneath the hemline of her skirt, her glowy legs making me weak in the knees. Even worse was the low, scooped back of her shirt, her spine’s movement visible as she walked around the room. I couldn’t take my eyes off her, I couldn’t even stop the trembling of my hands. I needed to get more drinks in me quickly.

It seemed like the dark haired girl had the same idea, downing her first tequila soda in a matter of minutes as we set up the game. The tension often visible on her face only to me was slowly beginning to melt away.

“We’re about to win aight?” I tell Lala next to me, which makes Izzie let out a loud scoff.

“You really think I’ll let you win Bueckers?” The dark haired girl asks, challenging me.

“Yo, who’s the athlete here,” I respond, an arrogant grin on my face but she won’t back down, catlike eyes staring me down at the opposite end of the table.

“You’re enormously underestimating my desire to win.”

“Oh yeah?”

Izzie nods. “Yes Paige.”

And she’s right. I don’t know if it’s the alcohol already flowing in my system, or the way Izara looks, her green eyes locked on me everytime I bounce the ball off the table but my aim is off. And somehow she keeps aiming perfectly, a sly grin and her sharp eyes glimmering as she makes me drink one cup of beer after another, after another until Lala is the one to call it off, admitting defeat gracefully.

Arike and Izara hug, celebrating their win, but I can’t even be mad - the way Izzie’s mouth is stretched into a wide smile, the way she was letting go off her disciplined, hard exterior as a result of the alcohol was such a joy to watch I could’ve soaked in it forever.

“I told you! I told you!” Iz laughs, coming over to me and getting up in my face. But all I’m doing is smirking, my hand snaking around her waist and pulling her close without thinking about it much. But she doesn’t pull away either, even when our fronts nearly press together, heat radiating between us. The party has turned loud, drunk people bumping into each other, yelling over the music, but all I see is the dark haired girl in front of me, and the blush on her cheeks.

“You were cheating Iz,” I tell her, heavy eyes gazing down at the girl.

“How?” She asks, stunned.

I shrug. “I dunno.” I did know. It was that damn outfit. It took every ounce of self-discipline I had not to drag her to the bathroom and pull that skirt up. How was I expected to aim while my thoughts were running out of control.

“Here you areeeee!” Satou’s voice interrupts the moment, making me stumble backwards and letting go of the girl in my arms realising how close I’d been to losing control and leaning down to kiss her.

Satou hugs both me and Iz, looking around for the couple of the hour who have suddenly disappeared. “Where the lovebirds at?” She asks, holding a wrapped present in her hands. I chuckle shrugging but Zari lets out a giggle.

“Last I saw them they were getting pretty cosy,” she laughs, leaning into my side whether on purpose or on accident I’m not sure. But it leaves my skin tingling.

“No one’s surprised,” Satou laughs, waving her friend over. “Savannah, this is Paige and… Izara, right?” 

“She prefers Zari,” I correct before Iz can even say a word. From my peripheral vision I see her head snap to me, eyes growing softer as they land on me. I could tell she was happy with me, which made me want to get on my knees and beg for her to let me serve her forever. Okay, no, let me get a grip.

“Whassup,” I nod at Savannah, who smiles at both me and Izzie. Suddenly, the girl beside me stumbles as someone bumps into her, crashing straight into me.

“Woah,” I grab a hold of her, my hand naturally landing on the small of her back. “You okay?”

“Yeah,” she giggles, watching me and her nose scrunching as her face twists into a laugh. The sparkling eyeshadow covering her eyelids makes her shine even more, curled strands falling onto her face out of the updo her long, dark hair is in. She looks so beautiful I feel breathless, even more so up close.

“You want a drink ma? I could use one,” I ask, staring into the green of her eyes, feeling the alcohol too much to realise that our faces are only inches away at this point.

She rolls her eyes. “Paige, I hate that nickname.”

“Do you want a drink or not woman?” I ask annoyed, teasing her. But her face hardens, and her eyes sharpen.

“Excuse me?”

Her tone is hard and serious, making my lower abdomen flip. As inappropriate as it feels, I’m exceptionally turned on.

I swallow, biting my lower lip. “Uh…”

“Woman?” She interrupts me, furrowing her brows. I can feel heat pooling between my legs, making my mind spin.

“I’m sorry,” I mumble, my voice coming out shaky from how flustered my thoughts had turned me.

“What’s that?” She asks, brows rising as she watches my mouth expectantly.

“I’m sorry Izzie,” I say louder, my chest heaving now. To my surprise, I notice her breathing is growing heavy too.

“Mhm, that’s better,” she nods, eyes still on my mouth as I bite down on my lower lip. And for just a second, as my eyes flicker from her eyes to her glossed lips, I consider leaning in and pressing a kiss on them, mind jumping to how she might taste. Like heaven I bet.

“So a drink then?” Iz asks, interrupting my spinning thoughts. 

“Oh right, yeah,” I compose myself, “we’ll be right back.”

We leave Satou and Savannah alone, my hand on the small of Izara’s back guiding her through the people to the kitchen island.

“What do we want to drink?” The girl asks, looking at the row of bottles lining the counter. I lean in even closer to her side, letting my hand drag from her back to around her waist. The girl’s breath hitches audibly, yet she doesn’t pull back.

“Shots! Now!” Arike suddenly interrupts us, Lala following close behind her.

“Bro where you been?” I ask, watching as she begins to pour shots of vodka for all four of us. Her and Lala exchange a look that tells me I don’t want to know the answer to my question.

“Nevermind,” I mumble, making Izzie giggle, the alcohol finally loosening her up.

“No, I really shouldn’t,” the dark haired girl shakes her head, pushing the shot away.

“Oh c’mooonnn!!” I groan, pushing it back.

“Yeah Zari, c’mon,” Rike complains.

I pick up my own shot glass, and Izara’s as well, bringing it to her lips. She’s considering, meeting my gaze, until her pretty lips open and I tip the glass, pouring the shot into her mouth as I throw my head back, swallowing mine. 

“Holy shit,” I cough, making everyone around me laugh, looking at the dark haired girl whose face doesn’t even twitch from the alcohol. Damn.

“And another oneeee,” Arike laughs, now pouring tequila into the glasses, clearly trying to get us two drunk. I glare at her, picking up on what she was up to. But Rike merely winks at me, handing us salt and lemon slices.

“Oh boy,” Izara chuckles, eyeing the alcohol. I follow closely as her tongue darts out to lick her wrist, my mind spinning with dirty thoughts involving that tongue between my le-

“Lemon!” The girl yelps, squeezing her eyes shut having taken the shot. I quickly grab the slice from the counter, holding Izzie’s face still by her chin as I place the wedge between her lips. Her teeth bite into it, sucking on the bitter fruit to get rid of the taste in her mouth.

Her dark lashes flutter open, and she pulls away with a grin. “Your turn.”

I scratch the back of my neck, feeling my tongue already growing numb from the alcohol, my speech certainly beginning to slur soon.

“Yo Zari, you should let Paige lick the salt from your wrist,” Arike yells from the opposite side of the counter, earning a slap on the shoulder from Lala.

“Huh?” Izara laughs, turning to the pair.

“Ignore her, God knows I do,” Lala rolls her eyes.

Flustered, I fumble with the salt shaker, licking it off my hand and downing the shot of tequila, feeling the burn in my throat making me want to cough. To my surprise, Iz brings the slice of lemon to my lips, the bitter taste putting an end to the burn.

I can feel the alcohol hitting, making my cheeks burn - or maybe it’s the way the dark haired girl is looking at me, her eyes even more catlike than normal, sparkling in the dimmed lighting. Either way I can feel my brain and mouth beginning to slow down, yet my words and actions seem simultaneously sped up, like I couldn’t think them through before doing.

“I’mma admit, I’m drunk as fuck,” I laugh, making Izara throw her head back and let out a bright chuckle, grabbing onto my shoulder as she does. Fuck she looks hotter than usual, the hard, poised exterior breaking, letting me catch little glimpses into her internal life, reminiscent of the softness on her face when she fell asleep on me.

“Let’s run away before Arike makes us take more shots,” she whispers and simultaneously somehow screams, grabbing my arm and dragging me down behind the island, as if Arike and Lala weren’t standing right on the other side, watching the two of us. Still I let her, crouching behind it and letting her drag me wherever she wants to. 

-

I love Dallas! Or maybe I should reconsider when I’m sober, but now that the shots and drinks had been flowing, I had decided I loved Dallas for certain. Paige and I have been hiding behind a corner, by the entrance to Arike’s and Lala’s bedroom, for the past hour, giggling and talking. I’ve realised Paige might be one of my favourite people I’ve ever met, the strain in my abs a reminder of how easily she made me laugh. How effortless it was to spend time with her, like I didn’t have to put up any exterior or front. I felt comfortable being myself with her. So naturally, in my drunken state, the words slip from my lips easily.

“You’re like, my favourite person right now,” I giggle, leaning my back against the cool wall and watching upwards at her. Paige’s eyes are heavy and red as a result of the alcohol, hair somehow still neatly slicked back, however a button on her chest left unbuttoned, displaying that she definitely wasn’t wearing a bra under the shirt.

“Yeah?” Paige asks, a proud smirk on her face. She’s standing in front of me, arms crossed.

“Don’t let it get into your head darling,” I scoff, pushing her off by her abdomen, feeling the muscles there tighten when my fingertips graze her through the shirt. For whatever reason I’d been wanting her to touch me all night, enjoying the times she wrapped her arm around my waist, or guided me through a crowd. It felt good to be touched, so I didn’t worry about what it meant further. I just wanted her hands on me. Like you’d want to hug a friend after remembering how much you love them.

“Why do you get to have all these nicknames but I don’t get to call you ma?” She asks, stumbling back but returning to her prior position, if not a little closer. I place my hands on her waist, having to tilt my head to look at her - that’s how close she is.

“Why do you want to call me ma?”

“Because,” she groans, looking for something to say. “Ion know it suits you.”

“Why?” I laugh.

“Because you’re sexy.”

I’m drunk. And I know it’s because I’m drunk. It has to be. But I can feel myself begin to throb between my legs when Paige says those words, when her teeth bite onto her bottom lip, when she looks me up and down. Suddenly I’m painfully aware of the swirling in my lower abdomen, the heat spreading straight to my core.

The blonde rubs the bridge of her nose. “Ahh shit Iz, I didn’t mean it like that. My bad. You just look really damn good. In like a friend wa-”

“You think I look sexy?”

It’s like my mouth and brain aren’t working together, the words just forming and leaving my lips without a single thought or action to stop them. For some reason it comes out almost whiny. Like I want her opinion, her reassurance.

Paige looks surprised, clenching her jaw before kissing her teeth and licking her lips, hands twitching as if for something to touch.

“I meannn… you really gotta ask that?” She says hoarsely, stepping closer and placing her hands on my hips. It feels good, but I want more, pushing my body off the wall and pressing my front against her. The sparks are immediate, and I nearly groan at the contact. 

“You didn’t answer,” I demand, staring into the blues of her eyes. Only then I realise how blue they really are, like a turquoise ocean against a sandy beach, inviting, beautiful. My heart begins to pound, even more so when I feel Paige’s hands move from my waist, downwards to my hips, to the small of my back, and finally to my ass. 

“Perfect,” she coos.

The breath she lets out is heavy, loud, but I barely register, my mouth parting a little. To say the chills travelling through my body are overwhelming would be an understatement, my mind suddenly spinning with realisation of something I’d been feeling for a while, yet only recognised now.

“Is this okay?” Paige asks, making me nod my head. When I do so I feel the blonde’s hands squeeze just a little, forcing a breathy whimper to spill from my lips. Overcome with the urge to be even closer to her, I wrap my arms around the girl’s broad shoulders and lean my head into the crook of her neck, my body slotting against hers just right. It feels euphoric.

 “Baby I would leave too if I was Paige, that poor girl got to deal with you on a daily basis alr-”

Suddenly Lala’s voice grows louder as she turns the corner, Arike on her tail. 

“Oh, sorry y’all,” the woman gasps seeing us embracing, Paige’s hands resting on my ass. Embarrassed, I pull away, nearly pushing the blonde off of me.

“Uh, I need a drink,” I murmur, my thoughts moving so quickly they make no sense, not even entirely sure what just happened in a drunken hue.

“Yoooo,” I hear Arike snickering, and Lala shutting her up.

Paige follows close behind me all the way back to the kitchen island, people around the apartment now notably drunker, louder, stumbling into each other. “You aight?” 

“Yeah, yes. I am,” I murmur, pouring whatever booze there was in reach into a glass and downing it, attempting to calm the running thoughts trying to make sense of all of this.

“You sure ma?”

Fuck. The nickname. Suddenly it’s making my core burn, and I feel arousal pooling between my legs almost uncomfortably. Maybe that nickname wasn’t so bad. Maybe it got me so hot and bothered I could barely think. Maybe I wanted her to call me that and only that for the rest of my life.

“Mm, I’m sure,” I mumble, turning to look at the tall blonde beside me, the way some of the buttons on her shirt have come undone, the way she’s eyeing me back, her veiny hands wrapping around a bottle as she pours herself another drink, the chains on her neck, dangling into her shirt. It’s then when I realise - I want to fuck Paige Bueckers.

“Here you are, Paige! Have you seen Satou?” Savannah interrupts us, but my eyes are still stuck on the blonde next to me.

“No, I got no idea where she is sorry.”

“What about your girlfriend, she seen her?”

Suddenly my eyes snap from Paige to the stranger leaning over the island, blinking stupidly.

“I’m not her girlfriend,” I say sternly, my tone harder than it needs to be. I could feel myself getting overwhelmed.

“Wh- oh shit, I’m sorry. You two just seem like a coup-”

“We’re not together,” Paige interrupts her, clearly picking up on my stress levels rising. I feel the room spinning, my breathing growing shallow, my cheeks burning up.

Lala, who had been watching me and the blonde all night, swiftly walks over and grabs me by the waist. “Come with me baby,” she coos, her voice caring and affectionate as she walks me into the couple’s bedroom, closing the door behind us, separating me from everything causing the engulfing emotions.

“Sit down Zari, I’ll get you some water.”

I do as the older woman says, feeling embarrassed, just praying to any God that I didn’t cause a scene. I could feel my head spinning still, the effect from the alcohol still flowing in my bloodstream.

Lala returns and hands me a glass. I chug it down, handing it back to the woman and staring at the floor.

“Are you alright?” Lala asks, sitting next to me and following me closely. I rub my forehead, shrugging.

“I’m sorry, I think I’m more drunk than I realised,” I murmur but the woman shakes your head.

“I think it’s more than that, Zari.”

I look at her, a knowing expression on the woman’s face.

“What do you mean?”

“It’s Paige isn’t it, you like her?”

I sigh, not even sure how to answer that question. Not sure at all what the feelings swirling inside me meant. 

“I… I just think I’m drunk-”

“She likes you,” Lala interrupts me. I take her words in, blinking slowly as I do. Paige likes me?

“How do you know?” I ask in a moment of vulnerability. Something about the older woman made me feel safe.

Lala chuckles, shaking her head. “I think everybody knows baby.”

Oh.

I’m speechless for once, staring at the wall, recounting every interaction I had ever had with the blonde girl. My friend. Could she really like me? Worse of all, have I led her on?

“Look, just be careful alright. Don’t give her the wrong idea if… you know, you don’t feel the same,” Lala rubs my shoulders, like reading my thoughts. It all confused me, my feelings most of all - and deep deep down I wasn’t sure about what I felt, my mind an entangled, confusing pile of perplexity.

-

“Hey you alright?” Paige murmurs to me, pressing into my back as I’m pouring myself more water in the kitchen after my little breather. My body is covered in chills once more by her proximity - which must be a sign I like her at least a little bit. Or maybe I’m just needy for someone to touch me. I was drunk after all, and it had been a while. But then again, these chills always occurred when the blonde’s hands were on me, sometimes even when they were not. Just a simple look was enough.

“Yeah, I felt a little dizzy. Feel better now though,” I murmur, finishing another glass of water.

Paige hesitates, chewing on her cheek, clearly in her head as I turn around and notice her expression. “I didn’t do too much ri-”

“Here you are!! I love this song, come dance!” A drunk Satou interrupts the moment, dragging both me and the blonde into the living room, not giving us much choice in the matter. 

“Song’s almost over,” Paige chuckles, glancing at me as I shrug but follow the two hoopers.

“Who cares, I love it!” Satou laughs. We’re surrounded by a few others, dancing to the Drake song echoing around the apartment. As the beat fades out, I hear the soft melody of What You Heard by Sonder take over.

“Nooo, boo, I’mma go ask for more Drake,” Satou murmurs, walking off, leaving me and Paige alone.

Our gazes meet and we chuckle at the same time at the girl who just left, clearly even drunker than me and Paige.

“Fuck your mind up, waste time, I'm prone to that, do it all the time, Keep your guard up or wait in line”

“This song is actually fire,” Paige grins and I nod.

“It is.”

I take a dip in her blue eyes, finding comfort in them as the song plays, not at all shocked when Paige steps closer and grabs a hold of my waist, swaying with me. The alcohol is still pumping through my veins, making it easy to wrap my arms around her neck without thinking what it might mean. It felt good to be close to her, so what?

“What's the word? Tell me what you've heard, Don't tell me what to do, just tell me when it hurts.”

Paige sings along to the lyrics, the tiniest bit off-key yet something about it makes me grow flustered quickly, mind flashing with images of her doing exactly what the lyrics describe.

“What's the word? Tell me what you've heard, Don't tell me what to do, just tell me when it hurts, When I get you to myself, it's murder,” I sing back to Paige, our eyes meeting. Her eyelids are heavy from the drinks, and there’s a hint of a smirk on her face. Her silver chains sparkle in the dim lighting, but all I’m looking at is the way she’s staring me down.

Something about the alcohol makes me bold, pressing my body closer to hers, my fingernails scratching into the back of her neck gently, watching as her eyes nearly flutter shut at the contact.

“You be wildin', I be wildin', too, But not like you, shit, maybe a little like you, Maybe we ain't so different, maybe I be trippin', too,” we sing to each other, the blonde’s thumbs rubbing circles on my hips as we dance together. I feel the burn from earlier spread to my core once more, making it hard to think clearly. 

Our faces are inching closer, to the point where I can feel her hot breath on my skin. My heart begins to pound and it becomes difficult to keep my eyes open. Paige licks her lips, leaning downwards. For a moment I think she’s about to kiss me, the distance between us growing smaller and smaller - until she ghosts my lips, turning her face, mouth hovering right over my ear, warm breath tickling against my skin.

“If he was a winner, Girl, you wouldn't have to worry 'bout a damn thing, If I was up in it, shit, I bet a pound that I'd put it down, Make you forget that you was ever with him,” she murmurs into my ear with the lyrics of the song, left hand staying on my hip, right hand coming up to the back of my head to hold it still as we keep swaying to the melody.

I feel flustered, my cheeks growing hotter and my core aching for something. No, not for something - for Paige.

“And I hate talking 'bout my stroke game, But girl, I'm giving you the whole thing,” she murmurs with a deep, hoarse voice, my body tingling and on fire at the same time. 

Turning my face, my nose brushes into the blonde’s, but I’m too scared to open my eyes, too scared that if I do I’ll start thinking again, realising how senseless this entire situation is.

Paige’s nose nuzzles mine, and I can hear the shallowness of her breathing, her hand at the back of my head maneuvering me in a way so our lips are hovering over each other. I feel like I might pass out, my heart trying to race out of my chest at this point.

“Paige, Zari, I finally found herrrr!” Satou shouts over the crowd, making both of us pull away. My eyes shoot open and I see the girl holding her friend Savannah.

“Oh! Good!” I smile awkwardly, Paige’s hands still on me. 

“Jesus…” The blonde murmurs to herself, looking around clearly frustrated by the unwelcome interruption. “You wanna go to the balcony for, uh, some fresh air?”

“Yeah,” I nod, without thinking. I let the tall girl walk me onto the balcony, closing the door behind us.

Fresh air it is not, the weather a hot and humid warning for the approaching scorching Dallas summer. But it still feels right to be alone with Paige, under the dark Texas sky. I glance upwards, looking at the stars to avoid meeting the blonde’s stare.

“So damn hot,” Paige groans, unbuttoning her shirt even more to get more airflow, though I couldn’t care less. I’m only gazing at the way the chains on her neck rest against her skin.

“Yeah, it certainly is,” I mumble, leaning my back against the glass railing.

Paige looks at me with something I can’t recognise, her expression softening as she’s taking steps towards me. “Fuck, that accent,” she murmurs, her hands easily finding their way to my waist again.

“What do you mean?” I laugh.

She shrugs. “I dunno, I just love hearing you talk.”

I chuckle, bringing my hand to her chest and playing with the chain there, number 5 dangling off it. Paige grins too, continuing.

“And the things you say too.”

I scoff, displeased. “Like what?”

“I dunno! British things!”

“British things??” I ask, laughing so hard my stomach begins to hurt, my fingers still fiddling the number 5.

“Like… Taking the piss!” She laughs, leaning closer. I bend forward too, my face scrunching as pearls of giggles spill from my mouth.

“Oh my God, you’re so stupid,” I murmur in a blur of joy, my hand snaking behind her head. In the haze of the alcohol and the giggles and the newfound feelings, before I can think it through, I’m pulling her down by the chain and her head, leaning closer and kissing her.

It’s heaven. Every nerve in my body is on fire. The blonde’s lips open for me, slowly but sensually sliding against mine. My legs feel weak, and my nails dig into the skin of her neck, a whimper leaving my mouth but she swallows it, groaning in response. Her hands squeeze my waist before moving to my face, landing on my jaw to keep me as close as possible - like she might die if I pull away.

I’m pressed closer to the glass behind my back as the kiss grows hungrier. Paige’s mouth opens further, her tongue darting out to slide against my lower lip, begging for entry with a small whine slipping from the blonde’s mouth. It’s like everything pent up was finally releasing, something I didn’t even know was there, bubbling right underneath the surface. My tongue meets Paige’s, both of us melting into the kiss. I feel like putty in her hands, like she could mold me whichever way possible. This is the best kiss I’ve ever experienced, I know that for sure. Jasper always kissed in such a stiff, forceful way. Right. Jasper.

It takes me back to the moment, as if for a sliver of a second I can think clearly. What the fuck am I doing. This isn’t me. I haven’t thought this through at all. I’m leading Paige on.

Abruptly I pull back for air, the taller girl already dragging me back into another kiss needily. But I push Paige back by her chest, stopping her. We’re both breathing heavily, staring at each other. What the fuck am I doing.

“I have to go, I’m sorry,” I mumble, shoving her off me as gently as I can, saying quick goodbyes to Lala and Arike before practically running down the stairs and throwing myself into a cab, leaving Paige upstairs as if nothing happened. The only proof of the night’s events merely the way my lips still burn and tingle, and my racing heart and swirling mind trying to make sense of everything.

-

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[its-a-me-mango]

THANK YOU ALL FOR AN AMAZING YEAR! HERE'S TO MANY MORE!

Alllright, final thing to close off today, and what better than with a great big THANK YOU to everyone for sticking with me for a whole year! Regardless of if you’ve been around since I first joined or if you only just followed me today, thank you so much for your support of me and my work. Knowing there are so many fantastic and wonderful individuals who all enjoy what I make is just indescribable, I get to wake up and enjoy creating things I love for the series I love so dearly all while so many amazing people enjoy what I make too. I really can’t put into words how thankful I am for everyone who follows me but genuinely from the bottom of my heart, thank you, thank you all for an amazing year and here’s hoping for many more to come!

Now, I do have a few special dedications to a few certain individuals, if I didn’t get the chance to include you PLEASE don’t think that I don’t value you in any way! There were so many cool and talented people that I wanted to thank but I simply didn’t have time to do so! You are all so important to me and it does kill me a little that I can’t thank everyone, but I am just one guy at the end of the day so again please don’t take it personally, I am still so thankful for everyone and I want you to know this. <3

ANYWAY LONG ASS BLOCK OF TEXT UNDER THE READ MORE

So, in no order in particular

@lizaluvsthis @shygirl4991 @b-r-i-n-g-x - I’m putting you all together as one because I always see you guys working as a group so it feels wrong to split you guys up lol. You were all some of the first people I ever saw in the SMG4 fandom and your contributions inspired me so much to make my own stuff too! Everything you guys make always has so much heart and soul put into it, Brewing Romance, Split into 3’s, Gay Ogres, they’re all some of the first projects I remember seeing and for that I wanna thank you guys for motivating me to make and create my own things within this fandom! Even if you guys aren’t as active now or have moved on from those projects, I still hold them dear to me so keep making and creating because you guys are all so amazing at it! <3

@mothsbakery - Moth my beloved friend, I don’t know where to start, when I first got into SMG4, I was so worried about sharing it with my friends because I was worried it would somehow get turned against me in some way (blame that damn trauma lol), so having you take a passing interest in it was such a major relief to me. I’m so glad I’ve been able to sit down with you and watch the few episodes that we have because they’ve been so much fun! I’m so glad that we’re friends even after all these years. I know I’m not always the best at keeping in touch but I do genuinely appreciate your friendship and all that we’ve done together. Please keep making and creating and enjoying what you love, seeing you come to my DM’s with your newest musical piece is always such a joy to listen to and it’s been so wonderful to watch you improve over the years! Keep being amazing Moth, I’ll chat to you soon I promise! <3

@strange0-0storm - STOOOORM!!! (POINTING AT YOU POINTING AT YOU) FREAK!!!!/J I’m kidding lol, Storm I am so glad I’ve gotten the chance to talk with you, even if it's brief, you are so fun to talk to that I can’t wait to get the chance to chat with you again about OC’s or just anything really! Your work is always so yummy, whether it's SMG4, Gravity Falls, Popee The Performer, and more, your art is always just so full of character and it just makes me wanna keep doing what I’m doing and it helps me not worry about branching out at some point to something else. No matter what I will always come back to your work because it's so amazing and it’s even better knowing it’s made but such an equally amazing person, stay awesome Storm! (also RhythmDoctor 4 life they should kiss and make out more JHBBSGHBSGH) <3

@bluesbox - Blue! Dude you are so freaking cool I cannot put it into words, not only is your work fantastic and such a joy to interact with, but you’re also so dedicated to characters lore and interactions that I can’t help but wanna be just like that! I’ll never forget when you first dropped the TSB lore presentation that shit was SO WILD, knowing there's someone who's so invested in other peoples OC’s (including my own!) to such an extent is honestly so amazing, and it really pushes me to invest more time into my own work! Knowing there’s someone out there who genuinely takes so much interest in it is so uplifting, so thank you for always wanting to know more about what I make as well as everyone else, we need more amazing people like you Blue, keep being you! (also PS, the way you give Mango glasses is probably my favourite thing someone has given him, it makes me so happy to see every time, don’t tell anyone shhhhh) <3

@libbytwq - LIBBY, LIBBY OMG I don’t think I’ve ever met another SMG4 fan who just gets the same sense of humor as me so well, I love being terminally on Tumblr and having someone else who is also terminally on Tumblr, it’s so refreshing lmao! Lore not only are you an amazing person to talk to, you are also so insanely talented to match, all of your work has so much charm and passion put into it that I can just sense it with every piece, I always want to know more with your characters like I NEED the full SMGL:E lore or else I will explode and die, that’s how good you are at getting people invested in your work! You’re so great at creating interesting and engaging characters/stories that it motivates me so much with my own work. You have so much love for what you do it’s so wonderful to see, please keep creating forever and always because your work is such an absolute joy to see. I love getting the chance to chat with you so much and I can’t wait to chat with you again, thank you for being such an amazing friend Libby! <3

@hamlos - Hamlos, your work is truly incredible. I really can’t express it enough, it’s so dynamic and flexible in such a beautiful way, everything you make is just so amazing and that's just talking about your art itself, the characters you have are so interesting I always want to know more about them, especially Cardiac I seriously love him so much and having him paired with Mango is so wonderful, they really go together so well! I’ve never had anyone go so crazy (positive) over my characters before and It’s so amazing to see, every time you come to me with your amazing work it’s always such a nice thing to see! I know I am not always the best at responding but I do always see and read everything you send me and it always leaves me with a big smile on my face. Even if you’re not super into SMG4 right now, thank you for all that you’ve done and all that you’ve made for me, HeartBeet will always have a special place in my heart and I hope it does for you too, they are gay after all lol. <3

@neo91502 @hexsie @aquaproductions - Grouping you all together even though you all couldn’t be more unique and individual, every single one of you is so special and amazing to talk to, I legit get so excited any time one of you joins a VC with me because all of you are so fun to hang out with for so many reasons! Neo omg you are honestly such a nice person to chat to and be around, you’re always so fun to hang out with and you’ve convinced me to sit down one day and listen to Epic the Musical because every time you go crazy over the word Epic, I can’t help but find it so cute lol. Nova your obsession with Hex3 is so sweet and I’m genuinely glad you’re having so much fun with it, seeing you go on rambling about your OC’s will always be such a joy to see and you know what yes one day I will draw Hex3 just for you, gimme a second though (dies first /j). And Aqua, I had no idea how much of a sweetheart you were to talk to, you are honestly so cool and I’m so glad to have you in my DM’s sending me amazing fanart that you know I’ll like, thank you so much for being so awesome and I’m giving you platonic smooches right back at ya so watch out!!! All of you are again so amazing and I can’t wait to keep chatting with all of you! <3

MY BELOVED WHO SHAN’T BE NAMED BUT I KNOW YOU’RE READING THIS!!! - Hai babe, listen, I can’t believe the whole time you’ve been dating me I’ve been an SMG4 fan, that must be so embarrassing to you lol /j but thank you so much forever and always for sticking with me. You are truly the light of my life, I treasure every moment we spend together and I am waiting for the future to come so that I can spend it with you forever and always. Thank you for not only indulging in my interests with me, but for enjoying me for who I am, everytime you call me cute for getting giddy over SMG4 it honestly makes my heart flutter and it reminds me of why I love you so much, I wouldn’t be who I am without you and I hope you can say the same thing for me. I cannot wait to get the chance to see you again in person, I need to kiss you sloppy style soooooo bad it's making me bark and growl grrr grrr bARK BARK BARK anyway I love you so much and I always will. (I will forever kiss you for getting me Smug I can’t believe you got him, he’s like a fucked up and evil son to me) <3

@ominus-potato @theartistisme43 @coralalala64 - Grouping you all together even though I have different things to say about all of you, but regardless, all of you are such amazingly talented people that I’d love to get to chat with you all properly one day, even if I’ve talked with you guys a bit it’s not enough! I’d love to get to know you guys better at some point lol. Ominus your work is just so good I can’t help but feel happy anytime I see it. I promise one day we will meet at a convention, I’m so mad I missed you once I won’t let it happen again! Cantro, your work is incredible!!! Every time I see it I’m so amazed with what you’ve made that it just gets me excited to see what else you can create, I am manifesting with all my strength that if you do ever decide to apply as a SMG4 machinima artist, that you get it because god damn you deserve it! And Coral, THE CREATURE CREATOR!!! I love your lil creatures so much, and OMG you have to teach me how to do such amazing pencil work, your work always inspires me so much and I’m so glad I’ve gotten the chance to chat with you a lil, your gif collection is truly frightening but in the best way possible. Again all of you are so amazing so please keep doing what you’re best at! <3

@tiredsmashbros - Tomm, Mr Tiredsmashbros, holy shit where do I even start with you. First of all, I would probably not be thanking half the people in this piece if not for you, I know how scary setting up a server was for you but I will forever be so thankful that you did. Finally getting the chance to chat with not only you, but so many amazing people in the SMG4 fandom has been an absolute joy and I am forever thankful for you for creating such an open and accepting space, you and Radiant are seriously so awesome for all the work you’ve put into that place. It’s from your server that i’ve learnt how wonderful and generous you are as a person, I really cannot think of anyone kinder than you Tomm, the way you always have an essay planned for every piece of fanart you get, from just your overall positive attitude, I am so glad I’ve finally gotten the chance to meet you after just being a fan of your work for so long. Your work has been such an inspiration to me and you’ve always been someone I wanted to chat with and the fact that I am now is!!! Crazy!!! I can’t believe you were scared of me at one point lol. Anyway thank you Tomm for being such a fantastic friend overall, I need to know TSB’s lore right now, can you whisper it to me I promise I’ll keep it a secret, regardless stay awesome dude, you deserve nothing but joy and happiness forever and always. Qwah Tuh (also Burgerfruit beloved, they should get weirder /j) <3

@doodledev1l - Doodle!!!!! Okay I know this sounds weird but genuinely finding another British SMG4 fan has been so refreshing, not only that but you’re super fun to talk to and be around so it’s even better! Getting the chance to hang out and chat with you is always so fun, I love getting to hear what you’re working on for uni and I always hope that it goes well for you, I know how stressful it can be lol. Regardless, I know you’ll do amazing because I’ve seen how dedicated and talented you are when it comes to your work, again I hope the rest of uni goes well for you because you deserve it, we gotta end your bad luck streak somehow lol. Thank you for being such an amazing person to chat and hang out with, keep up the amazing work dude, I’ll get you a tescos meal deal one day I promise. <3

PHEW, THAT’S EVERYONE, again thank you all so much for sticking by my side for a year! Doesn’t matter what time you showed up, I will always be thankful to know all of you, keep being awesome I love you all. I die now

Mango <3

[pbaz7]

AGAINST THE TIDE: PART NINE

paige x azzi

word count: 6.4k

A/N: Alright I’m feeling much better and I’m no longer losing my shit after CD said she wouldn’t call it an injury 🙂‍↕️. Here’s the next chapter! It’s a little rough at the beginning but just get through it trust me . Please leave live reacts if you can, I need a little extra motivation today 😭

—————————————————————————

October 2022

For weeks after their argument, Paige kept her word. She stayed true to her role as Azzi’s best friend and was there anytime the younger girl needed her, it didn’t matter what she was doing, she was there. She did make Azzi stop coming with her to physical therapy though, and Nika had stepped in to take her place. Physical therapy always got a little too intimate when they’d ask whoever accompanied Paige to push on her knee and Paige knew that she and Azzi couldn’t handle that right now. They still spent time together–Paige helping Azzi in the gym here and there, texting during the day, hanging out sporadically, studying–but everything had changed. There were clear lines now. They didn’t flirt, they didn’t touch in ways that meant anything more than friendship. It was as though they were back to where they started, but it was painfully different.

Paige had started hanging out more with Ice, the freshman who quickly became a source of amusement for her. Ice's humor was dry and a little corny, and Paige found herself genuinely laughing more than she had since her and Azzi ended things. If that’s what you would call it. But even with Ice’s company, there were still moments when she couldn’t help but think about Azzi. It wasn’t that she didn’t love their friendship now, but it didn’t fill the large space Azzi once occupied when they were clearly more than friends.

Ice leaned back in her chair, her expression one of pure disbelief. “That’s bullshit. I refuse to believe there was a point when you and Azzi didn’t like each other.”

Paige chuckled, shaking her head. “I swear, we couldn’t stand each other. Every little thing she did annoyed me and she hated me honestly.”

Ice raised an eyebrow, smirking. “And now look at you, a full-blown simp. How the tables have turned.”

Paige rolled her eyes, though a grin tugged at her lips. “Yeah, yeah, laugh it up.”

“So how’d you two even get past that?” Ice asked, leaning forward with genuine curiosity. “Like, how’d you go from ‘can’t stand each other’ to…” she gestured vaguely, “this?”

Paige’s laugh softened, and she shrugged. “The gym, mostly. We kinda connected over basketball first. That was the one thing we could agree on. At first, we only talked about basketball—nothing else. But once we built a decent foundation of not wanting to kill each other every two seconds, we started hanging out more. It just…happened from there.”

Ice nodded thoughtfully, then shrugged. “Why don’t you just do that again this time then?”

Paige gave her a look. “We don’t need to build a foundation, Ice. She’s still my best friend.”

“Righttt,” Ice said, dragging out the word with heavy sarcasm. “Your best friend that you’re in love with, and you haven’t seen in like five days.”

Paige rolled her eyes again, though a faint blush crept up her cheeks. “We text.”

Ice snorted. “That’s not the same, and you know it.”

Paige shrugged again, a small smile playing on her lips. “It’s just… a little hard to be around each other sometimes now.”

Ice narrowed her eyes suspiciously. “Why?”

Paige didn’t answer, but the grin on her face grew wider, her expression practically glowing with unspoken thoughts.

Ice groaned, throwing her head back dramatically. “Ew, dude. You’re disgusting.”

Paige just laughed, grabbing a basketball nearby and bouncing it lightly off Ice’s arm. “Shut up.”

But as the laughter faded, Paige’s expression softened, her smile dimming into something more thoughtful. “Honestly though, Azzi just needs some space from me to figure things out, and I’m trying to give her that.”

Ice tilted her head, her curiosity piqued. “Space for what?”

Paige hesitated, her fingers idly spinning the basketball in her lap. She glanced away briefly before answering, her tone careful and measured. “She has a lot of internal things to figure out before she can even think about being with me. I realized it a while ago but I don’t know if she has.”

Ice’s brow furrowed, but she nodded slowly. “That sounds… rough.”

“It is,” Paige admitted, her voice quieter now. “But she’s worth it. So I’m giving her what she needs.”

Ice studied her for a moment, then leaned back with a small smile. “Damn P, you really love her, huh?”

Paige didn’t even flinch. She met Ice’s gaze, a soft but unwavering certainty in her eyes. “Yeah, I do.”

Ice smirked, her teasing tone returning. “You’re still a simp, though.”

Paige groaned, chucking the basketball at her again, though the grin tugging at her lips betrayed her. “Shut up, Ice.”

November 2022

The next month was much harder than Paige thought it would be. Between missing Azzi and being sidelined by her injury and not being able to start the season with the team, she felt like she was drowning most days. Basketball, her usual escape, was no longer an option. Instead, she found herself in the gym, not to work out but to just sit in the silence, wishing she could push her body for hours on end. But eventually she’d get too frustrated when all she could do was shoot a few flat footed shots and she'd just let herself cry in the empty gym until she didn’t have any more energy. Other times, she’d just sit in her car, staring ahead, trying to calm her thoughts. More than once, she ended up sick at the sight of the back seat—a painful reminder of what, and who, was missing.

Azzi wasn’t doing much better. She’d become a mirror of who Paige used to be, burying herself in the gym day and night, trying to outrun her thoughts. Paige was still there for her, though, which made Azzi feel like even more of an ass, having somebody as sweet as Paige, just waiting for her to get her shit together. When things were a little too hard and Azzi would come to her door with tear stained eyes in the middle of the night Paige always let her in, let her talk about whatever she needed to or just sleep. The first time it happened was a random Tuesday at 3am.

Azzi’s knocks were gentle and tentative at first but it was enough for Paige to stir, her mind still fuzzy from sleep as the knock came again, a little louder this time. She groggily threw off her blanket and shuffled to the door, blinking against the dim hallway light cascading from the bottom of the door.

When she opened it, Azzi stood there, her mascara streaked down her cheeks, her eyes red and swollen, as though the weight of the world had poured out of her. There were no words, no explanations, just a look that said everything, Paige didn’t ask, she just stepped aside, letting Azzi into the warmth of the room. Azzi’s shoulders were trembling, but she didn’t speak, her chest rising and falling in slow uneven breaths. Paige closed the door softly behind her, then walked back to her bed, sinking back into the mattress where Azzi now laid, holding one of Paige’s pillows close.

Paige reached over, draping her arm against Azzi’s torso as she pulled her closer but not quite cuddling her. Just enough to let Azzi know she wasn’t alone as Paige’s eyes fluttered shut drifting back to sleep.

After that night Paige couldn’t imagine not being there for Azzi, knowing what she was struggling with. But things weren’t the same. They didn’t text everyday anymore, and their hangouts had all but stopped after it became clear that they didn’t really know how to be just friends anymore. The space between them, once so easy to close, now felt like an endless stretch.

Azzi blamed herself for what happened between them. She was constantly fighting an internal battle that seemed like a losing game. One part of her knew exactly how she felt about Paige, knew she wanted the older girl more than anything. The other half was a constant pull against this thought process. The part of her brain that was telling her she wasn’t the type of person who takes risks like this, she didn’t gamble her future that she had worked so hard for. Constantly in her own ear telling herself she had every right to be scared.

Now, Paige sat alone in the empty gym, her legs stretched out in front of her, a basketball resting at her feet. She knew she couldn’t play much, just dribble around and shoot here and there, so she came here to think, to feel some semblance of peace. The quiet of the gym was comforting, even if it couldn’t heal what was broken, only Azzi could do that.

The sound of the door opening broke the silence. Paige glanced up to see Azzi standing there, her figure framed by the dim gym lights. Azzi paused, stuck in the doorway. The sight of Paige, lost in thought, felt all too familiar, stirring memories of another time they’d both hesitated to bridge the distance between them.

For a moment, neither of them spoke, both caught in a whirlwind of emotions and memories. Paige chuckled softly at the irony, breaking the tension, and nudged the ball with her foot, sending it rolling toward Azzi.

Azzi’s lips curved into a small smile as she stepped inside, picking up the ball. She hesitated again, glancing at Paige, before making her way over. She sat down beside her but left enough space between them to keep the air light, uncertain. Neither of them spoke right away, the quiet wrapping around them like a truce.

Paige was the first to break the silence, her voice cutting through the stillness. “You played like shit last game.”

Azzi blinked, then burst out laughing, the unexpectedness of Paige’s comment catching her off guard. “Shit is an understatement,” she admitted, shaking her head.

Paige smirked, leaning back slightly. “What’d you come here to work on?”

Azzi shrugged, a noncommittal gesture. “Anything, I guess.”

Paige hummed thoughtfully as she got to her feet, grabbing the ball. Ice’s words from October echoing in her mind now. She spun the ball between her hands, glancing at Azzi. “Why you been taking so long to shoot lately?”

Azzi crossed her arms, tilting her head. “The passes are all over the place,” she said simply. “I got used to you hitting me in stride so it’s a big adjustment.”

Paige paused, nodding as she processed Azzi’s words. There was a quiet understanding in the air—an acknowledgment of how much they relied on each other, on and off the court.

By now, Azzi had stood up, her eyes tracking the ball as Paige passed it casually between her hands. Paige grinned. “Let’s work on it.”

Azzi raised a brow, confused. “Work on what?”

Paige laughed, her grin widening. “I’m about to throw you some of the worst passes of your life, and you’re gonna work on shooting without taking too much time to adjust the ball.”

Azzi couldn’t help but laugh at that, shaking her head in disbelief. “You’re ridiculous,” she said, but her feet were already carrying her toward the court.

Before they began, Azzi paused and looked at Paige. “I miss you,” she said softly, her voice carrying the weight of everything left unsaid between them.

Paige’s expression softened, and a small, genuine smile spread across her face. “I miss you too, Az,” she replied, her tone equally tender. Then, without missing a beat, she threw Azzi an intentionally terrible pass, the ball veering off to the side.

Azzi barely managed to catch it, quickly gathering herself for the shot, but the ball clanged off the rim.

Paige smirked. “Not bad. Now do it faster and try making it next time.”

Azzi rolled her eyes but couldn’t fight the smile tugging at her lips. They fell into an easy rhythm after that, Paige throwing increasingly awful passes, and Azzi working to shoot without hesitation. Laughter echoed through the gym when the passes were too bad to catch, blending with the rhythmic sound of the ball hitting the hardwood.

For the first time in a long time, it felt like they were back in sync—no words needed, just the game and each other.

The rhythm they had fallen into was effortless, the sound of Azzi’s playlist flowing through the speakers now as they worked on her shot. Laughter occasionally filled the gym, the tension from the past weeks melting away with every pass and shot.

That is, until the music cut off, replaced by the ring of an incoming call.

Azzi, mid-dribble, glanced toward her phone sitting on the floor. “Can you check who it is?” she asked Paige, who was closer.

Paige hesitated for a moment before walking over. She glanced at the screen, the name flashing boldly. Her jaw tightened ever so slightly, but it was enough for Azzi to notice. Paige cleared her throat. “Somebody named Elle,” she said, her tone a little too neutral.

Azzi didn’t miss the shift in Paige’s posture or the way her eyes flicked away from the phone. She didn’t need Paige to say anything; she could see the wheels turning in her head.

“It’s not what you think, Paige,” Azzi said, her voice firm but gentle.

Paige shook her head, brushing it off with a forced smile. “No, Azzi, you don’t have to explain—”

“Paige,” Azzi cut her off, stepping closer. “She’s my partner for a project. That’s it.”

Paige looked down, her fingers grazing the edge of her shirt. “It’s fine if it was something else you know,” she said softly, though the words felt hollow even to her.

“No, it isn’t,” Azzi said firmly, her voice leaving no room for doubt in Paige’s mind. “It isn’t fine because I don’t want anybody else. I only want you, Paige. I’ve told you that, and I mean it.”

Paige’s shoulders sagged slightly, guilt flashing across her face. “I’m sorry,” she murmured. “I know it’s not really my place.”

Azzi stepped even closer, her eyes searching Paige’s. “It is your place,” she said, her voice softer now. “So you don’t need to apologize.”

Paige glanced at her, caught in the sincerity of Azzi’s gaze. The tension in the air softened, the weight between them shifting back into something warm and steady.

“Okay,” Paige finally said, her voice barely above a whisper.

Azzi nodded, giving her a small smile. “Good. Now come back over here—I’m not done getting used to these terrible passes.”

Paige chuckled despite herself, picking up the ball. And just like that, they found their rhythm again, though the words exchanged lingered, a quiet reassurance binding them closer.

After finishing up in the gym, both of them grabbed their things and headed out. Paige made her way toward her car, expecting Azzi to follow. But when she glanced over her shoulder, she noticed Azzi strolling casually along the sidewalk.

Paige frowned, stopping in her tracks. “What are you doing?” she called out.

Azzi glanced back with a small shrug. “I didn’t drive.”

Paige’s eyes widened in disbelief, a mix of offense and exasperation flashing across her face. “You thought I was going to let you walk?” she said, her tone incredulous.

Azzi chuckled but didn’t respond, her smile widening as Paige simply muttered, “Unbelievable.”

With a grin, Azzi turned and walked toward Paige’s car. Paige muttered under her breath the whole time, just loud enough for Azzi to hear. “She’s gotta be crazy. Can’t believe she thought I’d let her walk. Who does she think I am?”

When they reached the car, Paige yanked open the passenger door, motioning for Azzi to get in. Azzi stepped in with a laugh, and Paige shut the door with more force than necessary, her irritation over something so small almost comical.

By the time Paige slid into the driver’s seat, Azzi was grinning at her. “I miss how dramatic you are,” she teased, still laughing softly.

Paige shot her a glare as she started the car. “You give me a fucking headache Azzi,” she said, but there was no bite to her words.

When they arrived back at the dorms, Paige’s suite came up first. She slowed to a stop, slinging her bag over her shoulder and turning toward Azzi.

“Night,” Paige said, already halfway to the door.

Azzi nodded but didn’t keep walking. “Paige,” she called, her voice stopping Paige in her tracks.

Paige turned back, raising an eyebrow slightly, her curiosity piqued. “Yeah?”

Azzi hesitated for a moment, then smiled softly. “I’ve been thinking…can we maybe talk tomorrow?”

Paige blinked, her confusion evident, but she nodded. “Yeah… of course,” she said, her tone cautious.

Azzi’s smile widened a little , though she didn’t offer any explanation. “I’ll text you,” she said simply.

Paige gave her a small smile in return. “Okay. Goodnight, Az.”

“Goodnight, P,” Azzi replied, her voice quiet but warm as she turned to walk toward her own suite.

Paige lingered for a second, watching Azzi’s retreating figure, her mind swirling with questions. Finally, she shook her head and headed inside, her thoughts lingering on the way Azzi had looked at her just now.

…

The next day, around 1 PM, Paige’s phone buzzed with a text from Azzi.

💗: You hungry? Let’s grab some food

Paige smiled at the message, typing a quick reply.

P 💗: Yeah that works for me

It didn’t take long for Azzi to reply.

💗: We’re taking my car.

Paige frowned slightly, shooting back a quick question mark.

P 💗: ?

The response came almost immediately.

💗: I almost threw up in your car yesterday when Steve Lacy came on

Paige let out a loud laugh, immediately understanding what Azzi was referring to as she had her own struggles being in there sometimes. She shook her head, typing back with a smirk.

P 💗: That’s dramatic, even for you

Azzi’s reply was short but effective.

💗: Not taking any chances

Still chuckling, Paige grabbed her things, her mood lighter than it had been in days. Azzi always had a way of pulling her out of her head, even with something as simple as sending a few texts.

They sat down at a corner table, the comforting hum of the restaurant around them as they ate their Chipotle bowls. The familiar, easy chatter filled the space between them yesterday being what they needed to return to the natural rhythm of their friendship, the laughter, and the simple joy of each other's company.

But, as the conversation slowly died down, Azzi looked at Paige, her expression shifting slightly.

“I want us to start over,” Azzi said quietly, her voice soft but serious.

Paige blinked, furrowing her brow. “Start over? What do you mean?”

Azzi took a deep breath, clearly trying to find the right words. “I want us to try this again, but—” she paused, trying to make sure she found the right words. “I want us to do it the right way this time.”

Paige tilted her head, her confusion evident but her tone gentle with Azzi like always. “Azzi, what are you saying?”

Azzi’s gaze was unwavering as she leaned forward slightly, the space between them feeling more intimate. “I want us to date, Paige,” she said, her voice steady.

Paige’s eyebrows furrowed for a moment before a soft, teasing smile tugged at her lips. “So... you want to be my girlfriend now?”

Azzi hesitated, her fingers tapping gently against the edge of the table. “No…at least not yet,” she said, her voice calm but firm. “I want us to go on dates and test the waters. We did things the wrong way, and I want to fix it.”

Paige’s eyes softened as a slow smile began to form on her lips. She leaned forward slightly, clearly proud of Azzi. “Tell me more about it.”

Azzi smiled at the shift in Paige’s expression, the spark of curiosity now in her eyes. “We can go on dates,” Azzi continued, her voice steady as she outlined her plan she thought a lot about. “But I’m not going to let you kiss me until we have a few dates. And we’re not going to have sex for a while, or we’re going to at least try really hard not to. I want us to get to know each other as two people dating, not just best friends who happen to be doing this.”

Paige nodded, as she listened to her. She hadn’t expected Azzi to say something like this when she asked her to lunch today, but it made sense for her. It was a different approach, one that felt like it had the potential to be something more controlled. Something more grounded. Which is exactly what Azzi needed.

“So, where’s this coming from?” Paige asked, her voice low with curiosity but also a touch of tenderness. “I thought you were—”

Azzi cut her off, her gaze soft but unwavering. “Despite what you think, Paige,” she said quietly, “I’m in love with you. These past few weeks have done nothing but show me that. I’m still scared as hell, but I want to at least try.”

Paige swallowed, her heart beating a little faster at the sincerity in Azzi’s voice. She really hadn’t expected this, she expected Azzi to try to mend their friendship, try to get back to their usual routine of hanging out. But the more Paige thought about it she understood. Azzi was always so detailed and plan oriented. She always needed steps and checkpoints to ease her mind, to let her see the progress she was making.

“I’m not asking for anything,” Azzi continued, her voice a little shaky now that Paige hadn’t said much. “I just want to start fresh. I want us to really try.”

Paige leaned back slightly, her arms folded across her chest as she processed Azzi’s words. The weight of everything that had been said, everything that had been left unsaid, hung heavily in the air. She couldn’t help but hesitate, uncertainty creeping in despite the hope in her chest.

“How do I know you’re not just going to change your mind again?” Paige asked, her voice quiet. She wanted to believe Azzi, wanted to dive into this with her, but it was hard to shake that lingering fear of being hurt again.

Azzi didn’t flinch at the question. She just looked at Paige, with a calmness that her voice conveyed when she answered. “You don’t,” she said simply. “That’s the thing I had to get over. We don’t really know what’s going to happen. That’s been my fear this whole time. Not knowing. Not being in control of it. But we never know what’s going to happen at any point in life so.”

Paige’s gaze softened, and she nodded slowly, taking in what Azzi was saying. But Azzi wasn’t done, and she shifted slightly, her hands in her lap as she continued.

“I was talking to my mom the other day,” Azzi began, her voice quieter now, but still with a hint of vulnerability. “And she tried to make me laugh by asking who shat in my breakfast. But honestly, it just made me cry more than anything.”

Paige couldn’t help but chuckle, knowing exactly how Katie could be. “Figures,” she said with a soft smile, her heart lifting slightly at the mention of Azzi’s mom.

Azzi smiled too, but the smile was fleeting, and the seriousness returned quickly. “Yeah. But... I told her everything that’s been going on. All of it. How I feel about you. About us.” She paused, her fingers nervously twisting the hem of her shirt. “Some parts of the story shocked her, honestly. I thought she was going to yell at me, but she didn’t. She just listened.”

Paige’s eyes widened a little, a surprise settling in her chest. She hadn’t expected that. For Azzi to talk to her mom about them already? It was a huge step. It made her heart skip a little—an odd mix of pride and tenderness swelling inside her knowing Azzi had come out to her mom.

“How... how did it go?” Paige asked softly, unsure of how to phrase the question but needing to know. She could sense how much this conversation had meant to Azzi.

Azzi’s lips curved into a small, reassuring smile. “It was fine. Perfectly fine, actually,” she said, her voice steady now. “I thought it was going to be hard, but... she already kind of knew. I mean, she’s not blind. She said she could tell something was going on, especially with how much time you spend at our place whenever we’re on break. She thought it was pretty obvious.”

Paige blinked in surprise. She hadn’t thought Katie would pick up on that. “Really?”

Azzi nodded, her gaze soft but thoughtful. “Yeah. She’s always been good at reading me, even when I’m not saying anything. We were talking for a while after I explained everything... she said something that kinda struck a nerve.” Azzi’s voice lowered again, a little more humor to it. “She was explaining some stupid metaphor that I could never understand, and she said life is all about taking chances. Usually, the best ones—the ones that really matter—are the ones that scare us the most.”

Azzi’s eyes met Paige’s, and there was something raw, something real, in the way she looked at her. “And you scare the hell out of me, Paige,” she said quietly, her words filled with sincerity. “So that’s exactly why I can’t just let us pass by. I can’t keep living in the ‘what ifs.’ I’ve been too afraid, and I’m tired of being afraid.”

Finally, Paige let out a deep breath and reached across the table, her hand finding Azzi’s with a gentle squeeze. “I’m scared too,” Paige admitted softly.

Azzi’s eyes softened, and she squeezed Paige’s hand in return, her voice barely above a whisper. “I’m not asking for anything more than what I said. I just want to try, Paige. I want us to take it slow, to get to know each other again and see where it goes.”

Paige’s smile was small but genuine, her heart fluttering at the thought of what could be. “Okay. We’ll try,” she said, the words feeling right. “We’ll take it slow.”

Azzi’s smile mirrored hers, though it was still laced with vulnerability.

…

This is how, a few days later, Paige and Azzi were on their first date.

Azzi had initially tried to take the reins, attempting to plan every detail, but Paige quickly vetoed the idea, claiming she’d been waiting for months to make this happen. Azzi didn’t even try to argue with that logic.

Now, they were on their way to a mystery destination Paige refused to disclose, with music filling the car. The ride was easy, lighthearted, and full of laughter—until Azzi reached out and skipped another Steve Lacy song.

Paige couldn’t help but laugh, glancing over at her. “What? Are we never listening to the album again?”

Azzi shot her a glare but couldn’t entirely hide the amused glint in her eyes. “Not for a long time, we’re not,” she retorted firmly, her voice dripping with mocking distress.

Paige only chuckled as they pulled into a parking lot. Azzi’s curiosity grew as she turned her attention ahead, her brow furrowing slightly until recognition dawned. Her lips curved into a wide grin.

“You brought me to the fair?” she asked, her voice tinged with excitement.

Paige glanced at her, her own smile soft but proud. “Yeah. Dinner’s boring,” she said simply, shrugging as if it was the most obvious decision in the world.

Azzi laughed, her eyes sparkling as she shook her head. “Of course you’d think that.”

Paige leaned back in her seat, looking out at the glowing lights of the fairground. “Come on, big head,” she said, unbuckling her seatbelt.

…

Their date was going amazingly. Azzi, naturally, made Paige get her a funnel cake, ignoring Paige’s protests as she tore off a piece and practically forced it into Paige’s mouth. Paige grumbled but couldn’t hide the smile tugging at her lips.

As the night went on, it became obvious that Paige was annoyingly good at everything. Every time Azzi swore Paige was about to lose a game, Paige proved her wrong. Neither of them wanted any of the prizes, so Paige made a habit of giving them away, handing stuffed animals and trinkets to random kids. The two of them would watch as the kids ran off, bouncing with excitement, leaving Azzi shaking her head at how effortlessly charming Paige could be with all ages.

Now, they were strolling through the fair, Paige’s arm casually draped over Azzi’s shoulder while Azzi leaned into her side, the warmth of the moment wrapping around them like the glowing lights of the fairground. But their quiet bubble burst when a small fan recognized Paige.

The fan approached cautiously, smiling nervously. “Hey, Paige, can I get a quick picture?”

Paige offered a warm smile. “Of course.”

After the fan snapped a picture with Paige, they hesitated before turning to Azzi. “Um, can I get one with you too Azzi?”

Azzi blinked in surprise before smiling and nodding. “Sure.”

Once the pictures were taken and the fan left with a cheerful wave, Paige’s attention shifted, her eyes catching sight of something in the distance. “Oh my god,” she muttered, her face lighting up as she grabbed Azzi’s hand.

“What?” Azzi asked, laughing at Paige’s sudden enthusiasm.

Paige didn’t answer, pulling her toward the basketball booth, where a massive Olaf stuffed animal sat on display. “It’s too good to be true,” she said, practically bouncing with excitement.

When they reached the booth, Paige handed the worker some tickets. He explained the rules, telling her she needed to make three out of five shots to win. Paige nodded and stepped up to the line drawn on the concrete.

But the worker held up a hand. “Nah, I know who you are. You gotta scoot back,” he said with a grin.

Paige laughed, stepping back as Azzi chuckled beside her. “Uh oh, the pressures on now,” Azzi teased.

Paige made the first four shots with ridiculous ease, defying the odds of the notoriously rigged carnival game. As she took her time with each shot a small crowd had gathered to watch her, but Paige was unfazed.

The worker let her take the fifth shot just for fun, even though she’d already won. Azzi, standing to the side, couldn’t resist teasing her. “You’re such a show-off,” she said, crossing her arms with a smirk.

Paige, knowing full well Azzi secretly loved it, grinned as she lined up the last shot. Without breaking eye contact with Azzi, she released the ball. The ball going in.

Azzi rolled her eyes, shaking her head with a laugh. “You’re irritating.”

Paige strolled over to the worker, who handed her the massive Olaf. Without hesitation, Paige turned and placed it into Azzi’s arms.

“This one’s yours,” Paige said with a confident grin.

Azzi looked down at the stuffed Olaf and then back at Paige, her expression softening. “You’re cute, you know that?”

Paige just smiled at her, as she felt a tap on her lower back seeing a little girl with a huge smile on her face.

After Paige and Azzi finished taking pictures with a few fans who had crowded around to watch Paige play the game, she and Azzi resumed walking through the fairground, their steps in sync. Paige’s arm once again draped casually over Azzi’s shoulder, the familiar, comforting ease of their connection returning.

They walked in silence for a few moments, but the air between them was full of understanding. They didn’t need to fill every moment with words—just the presence of each other was enough.

When they reached the car, Paige opened the door for Azzi like always. Azzi smiled, appreciating the gesture every time Paige does it, before sliding into the passenger seat. Paige walked around the front of the car, slipping into the driver’s side. She took a moment to glance over at Azzi, who was still holding the Olaf stuffie, her eyes soft but smiling.

Paige gave a small smirk as she started the engine, teasing, “You’re actually keeping it, huh?”

Azzi rolled her eyes playfully, adjusting the stuffed Olaf on her lap. “Yes, it’s Olaf. I’m keeping it.”

Paige laughed, shaking her head as she pulled out of the parking lot. The soft hum of the engine filled the silence between them as they drove off towards UConn, the glow of the fair behind them, leaving only the warmth of the moment to hold onto.

…

Long after Paige had “dropped” Azzi off following their first date, she found herself wandering into the gym. She wasn’t entirely sure why, but something about the court always drew her in. Spotting Azzi on the court dribbling, Paige couldn’t help but chuckle softly to herself.

Azzi noticed her almost immediately, stopping mid-dribble with a smile. “What are you doing here?”

Paige smirked, walking further onto the court. “I could ask you the same thing.”

Azzi shrugged as Paige closed the distance, casually swatting the ball out of her hand. Azzi laughed, shaking her head. “Ah, there’s my annoying best friend.”

Paige laughed along, saying. “Ahh, so I’m ‘best friend Paige’ right now, huh?”

Azzi nodded, still grinning.

Paige raised an eyebrow, tilting her head dramatically. “Okay then, tell me something. I heard you went on a date tonight.”

Azzi chuckled at Paige’s antics, her laughter light and easy. “I did.”

Paige dribbled the ball a few times, casually lining up a close-range shot. “How was it?”

Azzi tilted her head, pretending to consider it. “Ehh I was a little nervous at first, but I actually loved it.”

Paige glanced at her with a playful smirk. “Nervous? Why were you nervous?”

Azzi’s gaze softened as she shrugged, her voice quieter. “You know why.”

Paige arched an eyebrow, her voice teasing. “Humor me.”

Instead of answering directly, Azzi pivoted the conversation. “I went on some dates when we weren’t talking, like you suggested.”

Paige paused mid-dribble, her curiosity piqued. “You did?”

Azzi nodded, fidgeting with her hands. “Yeah... with girls.”

Paige hummed at this as she resumed dribbling, her voice casual but interested. “How were they?”

Azzi shrugged, her expression thoughtful. “They were okay. It’s not like I was trying to figure out feelings for them... more so to figure out myself.”

Paige nodded, her gaze softening with a soft smile. “And?”

Azzi smiled faintly, her tone more serious now. “They helped. The conversation with my mom I was telling you about? A whole lot easier after that.”

Paige paused her dribbling to smile at Azzi, her voice full of warmth. “I’m proud of you, Az.”

Azzi’s lips curled into a small, grateful smile, the sincerity of Paige’s words lingering in the air.

Azzi met Paige’s gaze, her tone playful yet sincere. “There’s a little more attention that comes with going on a date with Connecticut’s version of Jesus though.”

Paige burst out laughing, tossing the ball softly at Azzi, who caught it with a grin.

Azzi continued, her voice shifting to something more serious. “I was nervous at first because I knew people would recognize us—mostly you. It’s a lot of extra attention.”

Paige nodded, her grin slowly growing as she listened.

Azzi tilted her head, narrowing her eyes. “What? Why are you smiling like that?”

Paige leaned casually against the wall, her grin turning a bit smug. “You know I picked the fair on purpose, right?”

Azzi’s brows furrowed. “No...”

Paige smirked, folding her arms. “It’s far enough from campus that we wouldn’t be recognized as much, but it’s also a Thursday, which means there weren’t going to be a lot of teenagers or people our age there. Just a bunch of kids with their parents or older people. People our age would usually go on Fridays or Saturdays.”

Azzi blinked, processing the thoughtfulness behind Paige’s planning.

Paige stepped closer, her voice softening. “I picked today because I knew anyone who approached us would either be a super-excited kid or an old-school basketball fan who wouldn’t care why it was just the two of us there together. I wanted it to be... easier for you.”

Azzi was stunned, her lips parting slightly as she stared at Paige. “You really thought that far ahead?”

Paige shrugged with a casual air, though her gaze was warm. “I know you, Az. I know how hard this is for you.”

Azzi laughed, her tone light again as she tried to hide how much Paige’s words meant to her. “If you knew what I was struggling with the whole time, why’d you let me make it seem like basketball was the only thing stopping me?”

Paige’s smile softened, her voice dropping just enough to convey her sincerity. “Because I needed to give you time. It’s not a realization someone else can process for you.”

The air between them shifted as Paige leaned casually against the wall, her height slightly towering over Azzi with the way they were standing. The space between them grew smaller without either of them noticing.

Azzi tilted her head up to look at Paige, her expression soft. “I miss your eyes,” she said quietly, almost as if the words slipped out without her permission.

Paige chuckled, the sound warm and familiar. “That’s always the first thing you say to me.” Her grin widened, teasing but fond.

Azzi didn’t bother denying it, her gaze unwavering. The weight of her words lingered in the air, pulling them closer in a way that had nothing to do with proximity.

After a moment, Azzi whispered, her tone playful but with a hint of nervousness, “I’m not letting you kiss me.”

Paige’s toothy grin grew, her confidence shining through. “That’s fine.” Her voice was low, carrying just enough to make Azzi’s breath hitch.

But Paige didn’t move away. She stayed close, her presence overwhelming yet comforting, as she just took in Azzi standing in front of her.

Azzi didn’t respond, her lips quirking up just slightly. Instead, she shook her head with a quiet laugh, looking away but refusing to step back.

Paige finally stepped back, breaking the tension with a soft laugh. The sound lingered in the air, as she picked up a basketball and started dribbling casually.

Azzi rolled her eyes, grabbing her bag muttering, “I’m leaving.”

Paige’s laugh grew louder as she called after her, “See you later, princess!”

Azzi didn’t stop or turn around, but a faint smile spread across her face. She lifted her hand and stuck her middle finger up in response, a playful gesture that made Paige laugh even harder as Azzi walked out of the gym.

[unriding]

a … a gift from the talented @kruinka 🥹 thank you so much!! ദ്ദി ༎ຶ‿༎ຶ)

[teaboot]

I’m sending this anonymously but this is NOT anon hate

You are such a good person, i think. Your latest post(as of 4:10pm Arizona, US time) spoke to me really hard. My father is a cop, in the united states, arizona, duh. And he used to be such a good person, he was a security guard and a damn good one too, and later in he became a prison guard because it paid better, and then he joined the police force.

I’d like to think that hes one of the good ones, and for the most part he is. A lot of my delinquent friends over the years who’ve had run-ins with him say that he gets them breaks, he takes care of them, hes a good cop. I’ve even seen body camera footage of him in the field and i’m proud to say that hes my dad. He calls out bad actors where he sees them, and he gets punished for it. He doesnt see the system or how his punishments are by design. And he continues turning in his cog, begrudgingly, and slightly out of time, but he thinks hes making a difference

Sorry for the ramble and essay, i just wanted to say that i really like your blog and i think you are a very nice human being. Thank you for sharing your perspective.

P.s. i’m totally basing an oc off of your outlook on security. You strike me as more of a superhero than a security guard.

-🦕 anon

Oh, that’s a super flattering take and a valuable perspective- so thank you! But I’m a gullible dumbass, and not even an incredibly smart or fit one- I just want people to be happy and safe. That’s all. And I don’t want to BE a cop, I’ve NEVER wanted to be a cop, but every time the request comes around I feel like I’m wearing down.

I keep wondering if I could help MORE in a position like that.

Probably like your dad did.

Here, people know they’re safe with me because I shut down the gunhappy jerks, but I don’t know how long it would take to truly make a difference in public security, or how many of my morals I’d have to compromise to get to that point

I feel objectively like a system so archaic and flawed can’t be changed from the inside, but another part of me says that you don’t need to change an entire system to make a difference where it counts

I believe that so many bad situations and life-changing moments can be diverted or changed by a single person in the right place at the right time- and I figure, if I trust myself to do the right thing and BE the right person, shouldn’t I do my best to put myself in those places?

But good intentions, roads to hell, you know? I don’t WANT to be a cop. But I want to be able to DO SOMETHING about the thinks I dislike seeing in conflicts. SOMEONE has to be willing to do that, right?

I’m not religious, you know? But the devil can be very convincing

[mysunshinetemptress]

Smarter

Smarter insight 1 insight 2

Leah Williamson x reader

Warnings: Cheating, talks of IVF, definitely could have been better so might edit it later but here we go

You’re crying again, you didn’t think you could cry anymore but the tears running down your puffy red cheeks say otherwise.

It’s heartbreaking the sight of you curled up on your bed, wrapped around Leah who hasn’t cried since coming home from the check up.

It’s another fail in your IVF journey, you’ve failed again, you have failed Leah again but still she’s here comforting you.

She lays there with you wrapped around her until she thinks you’ve finally fallen asleep and then she tries to slip out, away from you, from your constant tears that she can’t take anymore m, she needs to get out and the best thing she can think to do is to go for a run.

Only you stir “Le, where-where are you going.” Leah freezes the floorboards creeking slightly “I-i just I need to go clear my head it’s-I just need to go for a run.” You want to ask her to come back to bed to stay with you, to tell her you will get through this together, that it’s better if you do but that’s selfish and you have been so, so selfish recently. “Ok.” You say quietly and with that small nod of approval from you Leah’s gone.

Leah doesn’t know how long she’s been running for when she first spots HER and for the first time all day her mind is void of you. SHES gorgeous, absolutely stunning and she’s running right towards her.

Leah doesn’t know what comes over her as she does a u turn to chase after the gorgeous girl that’s just smiled her but she finds herself running beside her, her eyes flicking between her and the path before SHE stops.

“Hi.” Leah stops her hands on her hips sucking in air “I’m sorry I just-I saw you and I thought wow and, and.” SHE laughs and before Leah knows it’s they are sat in the park cafe chatting and laughing, Leah doesn’t know what time it is and frankly she doesn’t care this is the first time in weeks she’s laughed and not had to deal with a crying wife.

Everything is so nice and easy until SHE questions why Leah was running g so fast. “I-I’m going through something, my-my wife and I are going through something.” SHE reaches over grabbing Leah’s hand stroking it softly “it’s ok I’m sure it will workout.” Leah shakes her head “I-I don’t know if it will, my wife she-she’s in the middle of IVF and it’s not working-it never seems to work.” SHE softens “That’s not your fault, you can’t do anything about it.” Leah shakes her head “But am I not an asshole for just leaving her-I mean she’s at home crying and I-I’m here.”

SHE shakes her head “You need comfort too, she’s actually being selfish not comforting you as well, I mean it’s hard for you too.”

The conversation continues and SHE continues to “comfort” Leah telling her it’s going to be ok, their hands don’t part even after the Cafe owner throws them out.

“My house is just across the street.” It’s all Leah needs to hear before she’s sitting at the kitchen another tea in hand as SHE flits around content on cooking.

Leah doesn’t know how or when it happened maybe after SHE brought a spoon to her lips begging her to try the sauce but suddenly they are kissing, and then suddenly Leah is pushing HER through the bedroom door.

Leah knows this is wrong as she strips, as she twists off her wedding band and throws it towards her cloths but SHE’S gorgeous, the voice the tiny small voice screams in the back of her mind as they push forward, it scream about you, how you are still there, still at home crying, but SHE’S not SHE’S not crying not seeking comfort and draining Leah’s every emotion, no SHE’S soft and her lips are plump and her breast are perfect and SHE’S not crying and begging to be held, SHE’S not begging to be told it’s going to be ok as another round of IVF fails.

SHE’S gorgeous and she’s all Leah can think about on the drive home, right until the moment she walks through the door and your body crashes into hers, as you wrap yourself around her whispering into her chest how much you missed her.

It should never of happened but it did, it should be a one time mistake but it wasn’t, she should never have left you but she did and now she’s lost you.