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i-cant-sing · 9 months ago

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Time Traveller AU part 7

Part 1 is here. Part 2 is here. Part 3 is here. Part 4 is here. Part 5 is here. Part 6 is here. Time Traveller au masterlist is here. Check out my MASTERLIST for more!

Part 8 is here!

"Gather the troops and have them warn the public. All the infantries will be stationed here and here. The archers and cavalary-" Salauddin was sending orders to his generals. As soon as he was informed of Baldwin coming, you knew he had only limited time to make a game plan.

You didnt understand why Baldwin would come all the way here for a war. He wouldnt leave Jerusalem unarmed this way, so either he's bring half of his army while the other half protects his kingdom from invaders- which would put him at a great disadvantage against Salauddin. Or he's bringing all of his men and that means Jerusalem is practically up for grabs.

No. He wouldnt leave Jerusalem unarmed like that, so that means he's inadequately prepared for the war?

No. Baldwin's too smart. If he won against Salauddin at just 16 years, then he's definitely coming up with a plan. And it scares you to not know what he has in mind.

You looked at Salauddin who had just finished instructing his generals, as they left. He was stressed, you could see that. War. Its not a small thing. There are no true winners when there's blood shed on either side. While Salauddin does have the advantage of fighting in his home ground, that is also his disadvantage. At the end of it, his people- his Egypt will suffer.

"Y/n." Your eyes meet. "I need you to stay inside the palace. I will have guards assigned to you. If they tell you to go somewhere, follow them."

"What? No. I'm coming with."

"Have you lost your mind?"

You ignored his insult. "If Baldwin is coming for a war-" "You're gonna talk him out of it?" "I mean, its not a bad plan but I was gonna offer you to use me as a bargaining chip? That way you could avoid blood shed." You wouldn't offer to put your life in danger but since your time machine is still not ready, you need to avoid a war.

"No." He gave you a stern look. "I dont want you anywhere near him or his men. You will stay here. Listen to me for once."

"But I-"

"Y/n." He warned. You sighed before nodding. Well I could always just go out when he leaves, just like last time.

Almost as if he had read your mind, he made you follow him to a room that had no windows or any other exits besides the one door that was made of solid wood and had guards stationed outside.

"This is the safest room, Y/n. It is impenetrable." Oh no, you cant stay here.

"I think you're overreacting a bit-"

"Overreacting? Your fiance is coming over to start a war because of your crazy brother-in-law who you underestimated because you said that he's just a tool. I think I'm reacting very appropriately." He shut you up.

"I want Isabella."

"No."

"Please Salauddin, I need to keep her safe too-"

"No."

"This may be the last wish you ever grant me, so can you just agree-"

"You think I'm going to die?!" Salauddin stared at you in disbelief.

"I... I didnt say that." You tried to think of a lie. "I mean, maybe this might be the last time you see me... alive? Who knows when the angel of death pays you a visit? If we look at the statistics, between you, me and Baldwin, at least one of us going to die-"

"Stop talking." He gritted out, "Fine."

"Princess." Isabella wailed as soon as she entered. You let her hug you. "I missed you too, Isabella." You smiled wiping away her tears.

"I- I heard rumors of a war! Is it- his majesty coming?" The girl sniffled. You nodded.

"Its true. A war is going to happen... unless I do something about it." She blinked in confusion. "Huh?"

You held her hands and gave her your most pleading eyes. Its time for manipulation.

"I need you to get me out of here." "Why?" "Because I need to talk to my future husband out of war."

Her eyes widened. "B-but its too dangerous for you to go outside, princess!"

You sighed. "If I cant even protect people from unnecessary pain and bloodshed, then what good am I as a queen?" Yes, time for some heart breaking lines about self sacrifice. "I would rather risk my life than the lives of those who have their families waiting for them at home. I would happily fall on my own sword if it means my subjects wont have to. If I cant prevent suffering of the very people who would bleed for me, then I have no right to be the queen of Jerusalem."

Half an hour later, Isabella had knocked on the door for the guards to let her out.

"Sultan Salauddin has forbidden-"

"Princess Y/n from leaving. Not me. I'm her lady in waiting and the princess needs me to get her belongings so that she can write her will."

"We can have it fetched-"

"You? A common man she has no relations with- wants to touch her stuff? I dont think so." Isabelle glared at them through her niqaab (all of your maids had followed your dress code in Egypt). She didnt wait for an answer as she began walking away before a man appeared by her side. It was one of Salauddin's guards.

"What?" She snapped at him, continuing to walk.

"They sent me to walk with you and bring you back safely." He said before grinning at her. "I thought you'd be happy to see your habeebo."

"Habeebo?" She asked, reaching your room.

He caught her wrist and turned her around, gazing at her veiled face with affection. "You cant still be mad at me for leaving the other night- I had duties."

"What right do I have to be mad at you?" Isabella kept her face down, conveying she was still very much mad.

"Habeebo's habibti- you have all rights over me. You're the only woman for me." Habeebo said as he placed a hand over his heart.

Isabelle finally giggled, freeing her wrist from his grasps. "Stop... someone could walk in on us." She warned.

"So? I'm not afraid. I can do anything for love!"

"Anything?"

"Anything." He assured her.

"Then go fetch me some cold water while I pack the princesse's belongings. Hurry now, I'll be waiting for you here." Habeebo all but smiled before walking towards the kitchen, leaving Isabella alone in your room.

As soon as she was sure he was gone, she removed her veil and quickly changed her chaddar with yours.

"Thanks Isabella." You muttered as you slipped on your chaddar. Yes, you had left Isabella in the room upstairs and pretended to be her to slip out of there. She had told you about her crush Habeebo who you had also fooled into leaving you here, and youre sure that if he were to go back upstairs and find Isabella instead of you, he'd protect her. Surely.

Sneaking out of the palace wasnt a hard feat by now. What was hard was trying to figure out what way to go to find Baldwin or Salauddin, with all the people panicking as they were being constantly warned by guards about Baldwin's arrival.

You decided to go through the market and head towards the madarrasa, though you doubt Abbas is anywhere done with the parts you gave him to make. You had given a week's deadline but only because you needed him to hurry up, not because he could actually make them in such little time.

The streets were packed, shops were getting closed and people were trying to rush home to safety. You were nearing the madarrasa when you were pulled to the side in an alley.

"Y/n!" Abbas exclaimed. "Finally, I found you." You raised a brow and he grinned. "Your things are ready."

"Already?" You were in disbelief. How did he-

He puffed his chest. "Of course. I had a deadline and with the war being announced, I'm glad I made haste!" You felt hope again. If the parts are ready, all you need to do is assemble them and you can leave this timeline for once and for all, and if Baldwin and Salauddin do end up fighting each other, everything works out! You're sure that Salauddin would win by playing to his strengths, and because eventually Guy will fuck up and betray Baldwin and cause him to die. Then another crusade will happen and Salauddin will take over Jerusalem! Everyone wins.

"Well? Hand it over."

"I dont have it with me right now! I took the parts home to work on them. Lets go." You trailed behind him, the market still bustling as the air became more tensed. They're kingdom is about to be attacked and they have little to no time to prepare for it.

Soon, you reached his home. It was a cozy place, made of mud. The beige walls added onto the coolness. He lead you inside, crossing the patio. Abbas told you to wait there while he went inside a room to get your parts. While waiting, your eyes landed on a cage in the corner that had 5 doves.

"Here it is." Abbas returned with a wooden box and gave it to you.

Opening it, you saw the designs you had given him. You took the parts out and examined them. They weren't top notch, but they'll make do.

"Thank you." You handed him a pouch of gold coins. He pocketed it before raising his brows at you. "So... will you finally tell me what this is for?"

You looked up at him before taking out your time machine. Might as well assemble it here and leave as soon as possible. "I would but I'm afraid it'll go over your head." He frowned at your words before grumbling angrily under his breath before going to the doves to give them seed. Good, he should be distracted while you put these parts in.

It didnt take more than a few minutes for you to place them in. All you had to do was to put in the last key, turn it on and set the date-

"Y/n." You looked up at Abbas, not understanding his horrified expression. What's wrong? You followed his gaze and looked behind you, and there it was-

A shadow standing at the doorway of the patio.

You squinted your eyes before your heart dropped at the realisation.

Black robes, hood over the head, geared up.

Assassin.

"This is the wrong house." Abbas said with a trembling voice.

The assassin stepped forward into the light, while you and Abbas took a few steps back.

"What- what do you want?" The assassin didnt answer him, his eyes fixed on you. This is- this is not an Ismaili. They wouldnt attack alone, and especially not so soon, and not when a war hangs over their head.

The assassin took another step forward, this time you grabbed the time machine and held it closely. This made the dark figure tilt his head at you.

"Get behind me." You moved behind Abbas. "Get out of my house- this is not the time. Evacuate!" Abbas warned the guy but he didnt stop staring at you.

As soon as he took another step, Abbas grabbed a wooden stick from the side and ran towards him, only for him to be flipped over his shoulder and slammed to the ground. You took this as a sign to run but the assassin was faster, grabbing you by the chaddar as it ripped off you. Your eyes widened as he grabbed you by the shoulder and yanked you back and your immediate reaction was to slap him, but he caught your wrist and pushed you back inside the patio. Abbas got up and tried to punch him, but he was knocked down back on his back in a second.

You ran, but didnt make it more than a few steps before you got tackled to the ground. You struggled to break free but the assassin had his arms wrapped around your neck, putting you in a chokehold.

Knowing Abbas couldnt come to your rescue, you clawed at the assassins hands, flailed about trying to break free from under him. But he had overpowered you, putting immense pressure until you started seeing black dots.

Just at the last moment, your eyes caught the sight of the dove cage and instinctively, you yanked the cage, hoping to hit the assassin in the head with it, but all you managed was to tip it over, the latch holding it close dropped.

And in the next moment, the doves flew out and went straight for the assassin. You wouldnt say they were attacking him, but the moment he saw them flying in his direction, he raised his hands to bat them away, which only caused him to get scratched-

You didnt stick around to find out if they clawed his face off, springing to your feet as you ran inside a room, hoping to find a window to escape.

You spot the window, quickly opening the wooden frame to leap out. Only the moment you have one foot out, you're pulled back inside and thrown against the wall.

The assassin is back, his body language conveying he's more pissed now than before.

You cant outrun him. You take a fighting stance. You know very well that you cant beat him either, but it works well to at least make him doubt that.

Maybe you could bribe him?

"What do you want?" You ask him, your fists raised. He tilted his head at your attempt to look ominous.

You glared at him. "You let me and my friend go, and I can assure you I can give you enough gold to keep you out of work forever. I am..." you pause before using your last card. "I am King Baldwin's fiance, future queen of Jerusalem. Let me go, and I'll give you anything you want."

He took another step forward and you knew you were backed into a corner so you punched him, only he caught your fist before it was anywhere near his face.

He stared at you, tightening his hold on your wrist.

"Please dont hurt me." You gulped before raising your other hand to punch him, but he caught it too. Now both of your hands were in one of his while he used the other to grab your throat and push you against the wall.

"Oh fuc-" He squeezed a pressure point on your neck until you passed out.

Salauddin was on his horse at the front of his army, waiting at the gates of his kingdom for Baldwin. His generals had informed him that they had placed the respective troops posted according to his plan. Everyone waited with baited breath for his command. They're ready to protect their sultan, ready to sacrifice their lives to protect their kingdom.

Salauddin heard them before he saw them.

The heavy jingle of metal armour, the marching of the horses and then he saw their cross flags. He gave a nod to his men, signalling to be prepared.

They're coming.

In all honesty, Salauddin was expecting Baldwin's army to not make it through the hot desert, since they rarely ever leave Jerusalem.

But it was still a surprise when he saw the actual size of his army.

It wasnt that much. Thought he anticipated it, after all Baldwin wouldnt have left his kingdom without some men, but now this means that Baldwin is not relying on numbers.

He's relying on strategy. And its hard to predict Baldwin's moves.

Salauddin's mouth turned into a grim line. What was he planning?

The templars lead the army to the gates of Egypt. The Muslims had their weapons ready to be drawn. Salauddin watched the Christians Knights halt.

Do they attack now?

Baldwin emerged from the masses on his horse, sporting his iron mask despite not needing it anymore. Salauddin also rode his horse to meet him halfway, knowing his generals dont appreciate him leaving.

Their horses stopped a few feet apart from each other. Everything was silent apart from the sound of warm air whooshing through the desert.

Baldwin raised his hand. Salauddin heart skipped a beat. He's going to signal them to attack-

"Salam alaikum!" Baldwin greeted with a wave.

Salauddin gave a nod. "Walaikum asalam."

Baldwin tilted his head. "Why so tense, Sal? Not happy to see me?"

"I dont like uninvited guests." He replied. Baldwin chuckled. "Of course. But we're friends-"

"Why are you here, Baldwin?"

Baldwin stared at him. No king appreciates being interrupted.

"I'm here to meet my fiancee."

Salauddin stared at him unamused. "You left the Holy Land to meet your fiancee who was going to return home soon anyways?"

Baldwin shrugged. "I missed her."

"Baldwin."

The young king sighed. "I know I should've informed you before coming but I really do want to see Y/n. I mean no harm, Salauddin." He raised his hands in surrender. "I just thought it would be a nice surprise for her. Ever since she cured me, I realised I hadnt seen the world that much, so what better location than Egypt?"

Salauddin stared at him, before his gaze fell on his army.

"Come on, Salauddin. Where's Y/n?" Baldwin asked with a goofy smile.

Salauddin's brows furrowed before he sighed. "In my palace." He nodded at his men to open the gates as he lead Baldwin in. But not before whispering to his second in command to surround the kingdom from all perimeters and be on high alert. Things can always go south.

Baldwin smirked looking at the size of Salauddin's army. "Aww, you didnt have to bring them for my warm welcome." Salauddin ignored him, knowing very well that Baldwin knew how it looked when a king comes unannounced at another king's door.

They soon arrived at the palace, welcomed by servants and maids who were looking at Baldwin in awe. They had heard rumors of his beauty, and when he removed his mask, they realised how huge of an understatement it was. And the fact that this young king was the one to defeat their sultan at just 16 years age, it definitely added to the charm.

But Baldwin wasnt blind to the furious gazes of his soldiers either. He just ignored them, which was easy since his mind was occupied by thoughts of you. Y/n. My princess. My angel.

What surprised Salauddin was that Baldwin hadnt come alone. No, Guy was here too which only confused him more. If Baldwin brought Guy along, then who did he leave to take care of Jerusalem? Sibylla and Guy's son was still too young to be a heir.

He did remember your theory about Guy being the one to hire the assassins to ambush you in the desert. If Guy came here despite his failed attempts to get rid of his enemies, then he's either incredibly stupid or he's well assured that he'll get away with everything.

Salauddin wont let him. He'll make Guy pay.

"I hate to rush you Salauddin, I know Muslims are knows for their hospitality but can you just lead me to Y/n's room? She is a sight for sore eyes." Baldwin requested sweetly, making Salauddin roll his eyes. He signalled a servant to bring you down.

Guy looked disgusted to be in the presence of so many Muslims, but the moment he caught sight of any maids passing by, he would be eyeing them like a piece of meat. A maid came by holding drinks in a tray. When she offered it to Baldwin and then Guy, the latter startled the poor girl by purposely touching her wrist with his grubby paws.

Salauddin gripped the armrest tightly. If he wasnt Baldwin's brother-in-law, Salauddin would've plucked his eyes out and had him whipped in public to make an example out of scum like him.

"So, when did you leave your camp outside Jerusalem? I was expecting to see you there on my way here, but there were new troops of yours instead." Baldwin asked, sipping the cool drink.

"I came here with Y/n. I had some errands that required my attention." Salauddin didnt bring up the ambush, watching both him and Guy to gauge their reactions. Did they know?

"Went on any new conquests recently?" Salauddin decided to make small talk as they waited for you. He hopes you're not taking time to get ready to meet Baldwin. He'd rather you come up covered in a chaddar when Guy is here.

Instead of allowing Baldwin to answer, Guy cut him off. "Of course! We are the noble warriors, the Chosen Ones! God wants us to conquer as much as possible, for the sake of his-"

"How dare you talk to me?" Salauddin silenced him. "I'm talking to your king. He may allow it but you're in my kingdom now. You will abide by the rules or so help me, your head will be on a spike for the crows to shit on." Guy's eyes widened and his jaw fell open. No one had threatened him like that, at least not since he married Sibylla.

Baldwin barely suppressed a smile and when Guy looked at him for help, he only shrugged. "You should listen to him. We are his guests, after all."

The servant returned with the special guards he had assigned to protect you, all looking scared.

"S-sultan... the princess-" Baldwin and Salauddin's gaze sharpened at your mention. The poor servant gulped.

"The princess is gone."

There was deafening silence. The servant had his head bowed, along with the guards, all too afraid of the wrath they're going to face.

"Gone? Gone where?" Salauddin spat as he walked upto them.

"I- I dont know-" Salauddin grabbed the guard by the collar and shook him. "I left her in a room with no windows, a room guarded by the 6 of the most skilled men. Where did she go?!"

The guard's head only lowered further. "Sultan, we only opened the door to let princess Y/n's maid in and out. B-but- but when we opened the door, the maid was waiting there instead of the princess!"

"Which maid? Where is she?!" Salauddin roared.

The guard nodded at his men who pushed a young girl forward roughly. She fell on her knees, crying pitifully. He immediately recognised her.

Isabella.

"Where's the princess?" Salauddin questioned her, only to be answered in hiccups and tears. A vein on his forehead popped. He doesnt have time for this. Who knows where you are? If you're safe-

"Isabella." Baldwin called out gently, kneeling in front of her. She sniffled and bowed her head. "Isabella, look at me." She took panicked breaths before lifting her eyes to meet his kind ones, not a a grain of anger in them.

"You know where princess Y/n is?" He asked, pushing her hair back over her ear. She shook her head, hiccuping though she wasnt bawling her heart now.

"Use your words, Isabella. Tell me what happened." Enchanted by his gentleness, she spilled, told him all about how you made her take your place so that you could go and stop you from starting a war with the sultan.

Salauddin watched the interaction closely, trying to figure out if Isabella was lying. He did note Baldwin's behabiour throughout this entire interrogation as well. For someone whose future wife is missing, Baldwin is surprisingly calm. Then again, he's rarely ever seen Baldwin lose his temper.

"Where did she go?" Baldwin questioned her once again.

"I- I dont know, your majesty. She never told me!" Isabella cried out.

Baldwin nodded before standing up, his brows furrowed as rubbed his chin with his thumb and index finger.

"If Y/n was going out to stop me and she never reached the gates, then it means... she's still here." Baldwin said after some deep thought. He looked at Salauddin. "Your men have surrounded the kingdoms, havent they?"

Salauddin nodded before ordering his men to find you.

"Search every house, every place. No one gets in or out of the kingdom!" He yelled at them, watching them leave. He felt Baldwin stand beside him and out of the corner of his eye, he saw his face wasn't... too concerned.

"You know, for someone whose fiancee is missing, you're surprisingly calm." Salauddin was both stating his observation, and accusing him too. Did Baldwin know where you were?

Baldwin simply smiled, his dimples showing. "I know you will find her."

"And why is that?"

"Because if I dont have Y/n in my arms by today, then I will burn your Egypt to the ground."

The Templar Knights kicked down doors, rattled the poor citizens and took great glee in destroying their belongings, using you as an excuse to "search thoroughly". Salauddin's army was also rigorously working to find you, interrogating everyone for any clues on you. Then again, no one had really seen how you looked like. You were just another woman covered in a chaddar and niqaabi among a whole city of them. It would be like finding needle in a hay stack and Salauddin wasnt about to allow anyone to rip off the niqaabs off his Muslim women. He wont allow such a transgression.

Fortunately, Baldwin agreed. After all, why would you be hiding from him? You dont have a reason to, right? But still, he had to find you. So he was walking through the streets of Egypt himself to look for you.

Salauddin had joined him, and not just because he wanted to ensure the safety of his folks but also to stop Guy from provoking Baldwin by feeding him any lies.

That cretin was getting on his last nerves.

Salauddin pretended to be deaf as Guy harshly whispered to Baldwin that "How can a princess just vanish? Clearly, there's someone plotting. These Arabs must've sold her off! They dont respect women like we do-" only to be pushed away by Baldwin who told him to focus his energy on finding you.

Its been 3 hours since Baldwin's arrival and still no sign of you. Despite his best attempts, Salauddin could see Baldwin's calm demeanour chipping away. He was running out of patience.

They were now standing outside the madarrassa where all the scholars, students and staff were rounded up. Salauddin was the only one who knew about Abbas, but now that he looked at each face, he realised he was the only one missing.

Immeadiately, he sent the guards to find him. Salauddin was sure that he knew about your whereabouts, He had to.

"Who is Abbas?" Baldwin asked as they both followed the guards that had found out his residence.

Salauddin didnt miss the suspicion in his tone. As much as he wanted to toy with Baldwin, now is not the time.

"He is a craftsman. Y/n had hired him to make something for her. Maybe she went there to collect it." He purposely avoided telling him about the unique chessboard you had gifted him.

After half an hour, they had reached Abbas's residence. It wasnt all that odd to find the front door open, and truth be told, no one was expecting anyone to be home.

It was concerning to find the disasterous state of the house as they entered. Clay pots were smashed to the ground, a cage lying empty in one corner. Clearly, something had happened here.

However, something caught Salauddin's eye that made his heart sink.

Your chaddar, lying on the ground.

You woke up with a pounding headache. When your lids fluttered open, they first spotted the single candle in the corner of the dimly lit room. Memories of the previous events flashed through your mind and you fitted the pieces like a jigsaw puzzle.

When your eyes finally adjusted to the dimly lit room, you realised you were still in the same room the assassin had knocked you out. Not only that, but Abbas was also lying beside you, though he hadnt regained conciousness yet.

"Abbas- Abbas, wake up." You raised your hand to shake him, but your eyes caught the sight of your ripped sleeve. When- when did this-

You looked down at your clothes and realised they were all tattered too. Your niqaab was gone, you recalled the assassin had pulled off your chaddar during your escape attempt, and now that you looked at Abbas, he was in a similar state too. His clothes were torn and ripped too. But why? The assassin had already knocked you two out, he didnt need to-

You gasped, patting yourself to find your lack of belongings. Your time machine was gone, as was your jewellery an coins. You'd been robbed!

Panic surged into your veins as you violently shook Abbas, your machine was gone- your only way out of this era was gone!

"Abbas! Wake up!" But he only groaned in response. What was wrong with him?

You dont have time to wonder as you rushed to open the door. You need to catch that thief, assassin- whatever he was, before he got too far and you lost your time machine forever. Grabbing the handles, you tried to yank the door open, but it didnt even budge. Its... locked.

You whipped your head around, remembering the window you were trying to get out of earlier. Running up to it, you tried to open the wooden shutters, but they didnt move an inch. No. No. This is- this is not happening. You ran back towards the door. You felt your throat close up as you pulled the door with all your might before banging your fists against them in frustration.

You were locked in.

The thief has your time machine. He's probably gone far away with it. By the time anyone comes to your aid, he'd have fled the city. He'd be gone as Baldwin and Salauddin fight and burn Egypt to the ground. I'll be trapped here, probably die under the rubble with Abbas-

Abbas.

You look back at him, still unconscious. How hard was his head hit?

You fall back on your knees besides him, trying to wake him up. He'd know- Abbas would know how to get out of this room. He's smart, and he knows his house, probably built it himself- he'd know a way out.

"Abbas! ABBAS! Wake up! Wake up-!" You grabbed his head and laid it in your lap, turning it side-to-side to see if he was bleeding. You started to massage his temples, hoping the circulation will wake him up.

Wait. Circulation.

You recalled what they taught you in first aid class- what to do when someone faints? Raise their legs above heart level. You quickly moved and pulled his knees up until they were able to stay bent on their own, before cradling his head in your lap again, tapping his cheeks.

"Abbas- Abbas, wake up please. Abbas-! I swear if you dont wake up, I will give you a tight slap-"

You were cut off by the sound of the door being banged.

What in the-

The door shook as something hard banged against it. You jumped at the force. Did the war start already? Are they using cannonballs?

No. While cannonballs were used as heavy artillery in medieval Europe, it was more popularly used in the 1700s, but I'm still in the 1100s-

NOT THE TIME TO GEEK OUT! I'M ABOUT TO DIE-

The door burst open and light flooded into the room, blinding you for a moment. You raised your hand to shield yourself from the light before slowly bringing your hand down as you saw figures entering into the room.

Once your eyes finally adjusted, you recognised the figures in front of you.

Salauddin. Baldwin. Guy-

Guy?

All three of them stared at you, though your eyes remained focused on Baldwin, who looked at you, then at your clothes, and then... at Abbas.

The look of relief turned into confusion. What? Whats wrong?

You heard Salauddin yell something in Arabic at his soldiers, which made them instantly look away and leave the room. Baldwin kept looking at you in barely suppressed shock.

"Baldwin?" You whispered, though it was Salauddin who moved first, removing his chaddar and bending down to cover you with it, but your eyes were fixated on Baldwin's face. Why is he... looking at you like that?

Wait. If Baldwin and Salauddin are here together, then it means there's no war. Which means-

"Are you okay? What happened?" Salauddin asked you, though before you could answer him, Guy began laughing.

"Okay? She's more than okay!" He smirked. "After all, she was spending some time with her secret lover!"

Both your and Salauddin's eyes went wide. It finally clicked why Baldwin was looking at you like that.

He thinks you and Abbas-

"No. That's not true-" You tried to speak but Guy cut you off.

"Of course it is! Look at you, holding his head in your lap so sweetly!" He accused before snarling at you. "And you chose a dirty Muslim to cheat on our King? The audacity! And the lack of taste."

You shook your head. "Thats not true. This is Abbas. He's a- a craftsman-" "Oh, I'm sure you were pretty crafty with him too." Guy cut you off.

"Shut up, Guy!" You snapped. "I came to get my valuables from him. It was a gift! I had them commissioned for- for you Baldwin!" You half lied.

"And where is that gift?" Guy interrogated.

"I was robbed. We both were-" "Oh how convenient!" You glared at him. He was framing you. You pointed at your clothes. "How else do you explain the torn clothes?!"

Guy hummed and you knew you were going to regret as soon as a disgusting smile crept on his face.

"Well, animals fuck with wild passion-"

"I WAS ROBBED!" You yelled. "Look, the thief even knocked out Abbas!"

"I dont see a head injury." Guy shrugged. "I just think he's passed out from drinking. Or maybe his stamina wore out-"

"Shut up! Just shut up!" Your face was red with rage, though to anyone else it may have looked like you were caught red handed in a lie. You calmed yourself down. You need to explain before things got worse.

"Baldwin, I'm not having an affair with Abbas. He's married-" Once again, Guy cut you off, this time waving his hands. "My king, it doesnt matter to these Muslims. They're into polygamy. Whats one wife, when you can have four?"

Of all the things, this is the one thing he knows about Islam?

You didnt detect one, not a single emotion of trust or love from Baldwin's stoic face. Is he- is he actually believing this bull?

Why wouldnt he? He's a man after all. And who knows what other lies Guy has been filling his head with to make him doubt your loyalty?

Enough is enough. You need to come clean.

"You know what Guy? I was going to keep this a secret to let you beg for forgiveness, but I think its time for the truth, hm?" You watched Guy's smirk falter. Enough games. You stared at Baldwin with determination. "Here's what has happened Baldwin: Charlotte didnt just happen to drop by Jerusalem. No, Guy summoned her by pretending to be you. Oh and I have that exact letter where Guy used your respectful name as proof. Guy exploited Charlotte and his plan was to use her and her son's illness to infect you so that you could die and he could get your throne."

Guy's face paled. But you didnt stop there.

"Of course, when that didnt work because you and I have an unbreakable bond, Guy decided to get rid of me." You looked at Salauddin. "When I left for Egypt and I was at Salauddin's camp, he had hired assassins to ambush us in the dead of the night and kill me or Salauddin, or both! If I were to die while I was with Salauddin, he would've convinced you that Salauddin was the one who killed me. And if Salauddin was dead, then it meant good news for Guy because he would have to deal with one less enemy after he took your throne."

"Lies! There's no proof-"

"No proof? Baldwin, did you realise that more than half of my entourage was missing? Its because they're dead. And if that isnt enough proof, then this might help-" You pulled up your sleeves to show your fading burn marks. "My back is full of these marks because the assassins left me to die in a burning tent. It was Salauddin who saved me!"

"And today? When we heard you were coming, everyone thought that there will be a war. I left the palace on my own, to find you Baldwin. I wanted to stop you from committing unnecessary bloodshed! I came to Abbas's house to get my gift for you, but Guy sent a thief after us! The thief knocked us out and he robbed us both!" You explained. "Didn't you ever wonder Baldwin- why Guy decided to accompany you today? Guy has never left Jerusalem, not even for a war, not to defend his people. He wouldnt leave the throne empty! He hopes, he prays and he plots for you to die everytime you leave Jerusalem so that he can finally be king!"

"BLASPHEMOUS!" Guy screamed, red in the face. "You wench-!"

"With all due respect Guy, which is NONE! I didnt think you would be smart enough to come up with such schemes. I underestimated you, which turned out to be mistake because you made Baldwin doubt me!"

Guy shook his head and stood in between you and Baldwin, acknowledging the stoic faced king first. "This is slander! All lies, Baldwin! I'm your brother-in-law! I would never betray you!"

"Never betray Baldwin? You aren't even loyal to Sibylla! I could have more than half of Jerusalem attest to that you've tried sleeping with other women! Adulterer!" Guy's eyes practically popped out of his socket and he screeched.

"You dare accuse me of cheating?! YOU?! You're the one who is locked in a dark room with a strange man in your lap like a fucking whore!" Not risking Baldwin's suspicion, Guy stormed towards you with his hand raised to strike you.

"You unfaithful, lying bitch-!" You heard the air being sliced and you flinched as you felt something splatter across your cheek.

Thud.

You looked down to where the sound came from.

Guy's head dropped in front of you.

Your ears began ringing. Slowly, your eyes trailed back up to where his body remained.

Headless body. That fell to its knees before dropping to the side.

You could hear the ringing get louder.

Baldwin stood there, his eyes full of rage, his hand holding his sword that had just cut off Guy's head.

He was breathing heavily, nostrils flared and a vein popped in his temple. Your heart dropped as his eyes landed on you and he moved towards you.

Your consciousness finally gave out.

Salauddin caught you but not for long as Baldwin made his way to you. Fearing for you, Salauddin tried to bargain for your life.

"Baldwin, she didnt-"

"Let her go. Now." Baldwin commanded, throwing Abbas's head off your lap. He didnt wait for Salauddin to move, simply taking you from his arms, ripping off the chaddar and replacing it with his cloak instead, before picking you up.

"Lets go home." He whispered in your ear before kissing your temple, pulling you snug against him as he walked out of the room.

You wake up to the feeling something wet on your legs. You jolt, eyes snapping open as you look for your potential assaulter-

"Isabella?" You croaked as you saw the young girl at the foot of the bed, her face red and eyes swollen from all the crying.

"P-princess." She greeted tearfully, holding a wet towel in her hand. Her lips wobbled as she spoke, nose bright red, sniffling as she stared at you with those big sad eyes.

"What's wrong?" You couldnt help but be soft with her. She just- she looked so pitiful.

She looked down, her hands clutching the towel tightly. "You- you were- you were gone for so many hours. I- I didnt know where you were- his majesty and the sultan- they were so mad- they were so concerned- i- i didnt think they believed me when I said I didnt know- where- where you were- i thou-thought you were-" Her tears cut off her hiccuping explanation. You didnt think she would be this distraught over you.

"Its... its okay, Isabella. You didnt do anything wrong. I'm... fine." You tried to calm her down, beckoning her forward. You sat up on the bed, taking the rag from her hands before holding her hands in yours. Giving them a gentle squeeze, you assured her. "I'm fine, Isabella. In fact, I should apologise for causing you all the trouble-" She shook her head. "No- princess- its my duty to serve-" You gave her hands another squeeze, calming her down.

"Thank you- oh. Isabella-" You looked at her hands, noticing something red peeking from her wrist. You pulled her sleeve up, realising that the redness was from the welts on her arms. "What happened?" You asked, turning her wrist around, noticing a small scratch.

She pulled her hands away, pulling down her sleeves as she sniffled. "N-nothing to worry about, princess-"

"Did you get injured? Are you okay?" She nodded. "I just- when I heard you were missing, it made me worry too much and I- I tend to scratch my arms when I'm stressed!"

You gave her sympathetic look, grabbing the cool towel from earlier and handing it to her. "Oh, I'm so sorry, Isabella. Here- take this. It'll help your skin, hm?"

"But the king asked me to wipe your sweat with this-"

"Its fine- wait? What sweat?"

She nodded. "We've been travelling through the desert for some days. His Majesty suggested I be the one to wipe you clean while you were unconscious." Now that you looked around, you realised you were in a tent, much different in design to Salauddin's.

Wait, desert?

"We've left Egypt?"

"Yes-"

She stopped speaking as soon as the sound of footsteps filled the room.

You stiffened at the sight of Baldwin.

Isabella had to only take one look at his face before taking her leave. Events of the last time you had seen him flashed through your mind, and you couldnt help but be scared of him when you remembered the murderous look on his face as he killed Guy. It is one thing to know that a king has killed people, perhaps even more brutally than this but after spending so many months with Baldwin, you had become accustomed to his soft nature. Never in your worst nightmares could you have ever imagined such a barbaric actions from him, and to his own brother-in-law.

It made you question everything, your own mortality- your own safety with him.

"How are you feeling?" He had his arms crossed behind his back as he made his way towards you. It took everything for you to not flinch back and beg for your life. No- no, you need to think smartly. If he wanted to kill you, he wouldve gotten rid of you back there-

Or maybe he has decided to torture you.

"I'm fine." You replied weakly, keeping your eyes on your lap. You dont want to risk pissing him off.

Maybe I should apologise, clear the air before he has any other doubts about me.

"I'm sorry." You said abruptly, finally looking up at him. His stoic expression didnt falter. This is not the Baldwin you knew, no. This was the king you had imagined when you first came here. Stiff and apathetic.

Taking his silence as a sign, you continued. "I'm sorry... for everything. For hiding the truth about Guy, for causing misunderstandings, for making you doubt me-"

"I never doubted you." He cut you off.

Your brows raised in surprise. He sighed sitting down on the bed besides you.

"I never doubted you, Y/n. Not once." He said with conviction."I didnt doubt you when Salauddin said you'd be with Abbas. I didnt doubt you when Guy raised false allegations. I didnt doubt you when I saw you in that dark room alone with that man. You could've been naked in there and I still would not have doubted you."

Your lips parted. What... what was he-

"You trust me? That much?" You couldn't help but whisper.

He smiled sadly. "I do. And more than that, I trust in my love for you." Baldwin looked down at his hands, still smiling gently. "I love you so deeply that I know you would never betray me. I have loved you the way I want someone to love me. My love for you... it is free of impurity, of imperfection. And thats how I know you would never betray me."

You couldnt help the tears that came in your eyes, and you looked down. How could he- how could he-

"If anyone should apologise, it should be me, Y/n." Your head snapped back at him. He was looking at you with genuine guilt. "I may have loved you deeply but I have failed to express it to you. Had I- had I done a better job, had I let you know just how much I feel for you, you wouldn't have hesitated to come to me. You wouldn't have felt the need to hide your traumas, your pain from me. You wouldn't have felt shy to get my help, to tell me your secrets. All of this could've been avoided if I had made you feel secure enough to come to me. I alone am responsible-"

"Baldwin." Your teary voice cut him off. You shake your head, sniffling at him. "This- this isnt your fault- I-"

"You did nothing wrong." He assured you, holding your hand. "Traps were set for you, but it was my job to save you from them. I am your protector, your shield. I owe my life to you. I owe everything to you."

A tear slipped from your eye. "I- I didnt think you'd save me. I thought you didnt trust me- I thought I lost you forever." You dont know why you said that, but they were true.

"I would've found you. I will always find you." Baldwin cupped your cheek, he felt his heart break at your confession.

"If I don't go to you Y/n, then where do I go?" And at that, the dam you'd been holding finally broke.

Baldwin immediately pulled you into his lap, his arms wrapping around you as you buried your head into his shoulder, sobs wracking your entire being. You dont know why you're crying, whether its because of Baldwin's pure love for you, or that Guy is dead because of you and you've ruined the timeline, or because you're mourning the loss of your time machine and its just dawning on you that you're stuck here forever.

He patted your back, rocking you gently like a child. "All my paths lead to you, Y/n. All my conquests bring me to you. Everything leads to you." He kissed your cheek, his hand petting your hair smoothly as you broke down in his arms. "You... you are the beginning and end of my everything."

Baldwin pulled you away and wiped your tears away with his thumbs. "I love you, Y/n. And I know you love me too. You may not say it, but I know deep down in your heart, you love me. I know you do-"

"I love you, Baldwin." You said.

His eyes went wide. "You don't have to say it-"

"I love you, Baldwin. I really do." You admitted.

Baldwin's shock was replaced with joy, a grin gracing his face as he cupped your face and kissed your forehead deeply.

"You have no idea how happy you've made me." He whispered before pulling you into his embrace.

Following this, you both began your journey back to Jerusalem. Every now and then, you'd start crying again because you'd realised just how much you were loved by Baldwin. You remembered the time when you saw him with Charlotte and you didn't give him a chance to explain. You had already decided that he was a cheater, he was disloyal. Yet when the tables were turned, when everything pointed against you and Baldwin had every right to find you disloyal, have you punished for even being in a locked room with another man, he trusted you. He didn't question your love for him. And even if you didn't love him back then, you respected him enough, both as a king and as a man and he still didn't ask for an explanation, let alone accuse you of adultery.

The rest of the trip home was spent with you crying and Baldwin consoling you like a toddler. No matter how many times your tears fell, he was right there to wipe them away and assure you that you did nothing wrong.

Did you love Baldwin? Maybe not back then, but you do now. Perhaps he was right. Maybe you did love Baldwin deep down, you just didn't know it.

And it's not like you don't have a choice either way. With your time machine lost, you can't leave this place. So, you've accepted your fate and agreed to marry him. Baldwin says the wedding preparations are mostly complete and the wedding day is on Sunday.

Today is Friday, when you both finally reach Jerusalem. It didn't dawn on you until now just how you were going to face Sibylla, the woman whose husband was killed because of you.

But Baldwin already had a plan. "Guy was buried in an unmarked grave outside of Egypt. I have instructed my knights to inform everyone that Guy had died a dishonourable death because he was a traitor to the crown."

"Traitor to the crown?"

He nodded. "I'll tell Sibylla I caught him cheating on her and plotting against me." He sighed, running a hand through his hair. "Its believable. She'll be upset, but she'll get over it. Besides, she deserves better than him. I have already found a list of suitors for her."

He truly has thought of everything.

Sibylla as expected was the grieving widow and after she welcomed you and Baldwin, she excused herself and left. You pitied her, she really did love Guy despite all his shortcomings. But she also respected her brother.

After a quiet dinner, you had returned to your room. You sat on your bed as you thought over the events of the past few days. Baldwin had assured you that he doesnt hold any hostility towards Salauddin. In fact, to further put your mind at peace, he told you that he had invited Salauddin to the wedding. As for Abbas, Baldwin said he doesnt know what happened to him but he's sure Salauddin didnt harm the man.

"Did you ever find your family?" Baldwin had asked earlier. You shook your head, telling him that you mistaken someone you thought was family.

"I know you would prefer to have the Nikkah first, before our actual wedding, but I wasnt able to find someone to marry us off in the Islamic way. But then-" He grinned, almost proud of himself. "I decided who better than Salauddin?! Since he'll be arriving on the day of the ceremony, he could walk you down the aisle and then later that day, he could do the Nikkah for us!" You could only smile and agree, what difference does it make what ceremony happens first? You're stuck here either way, and you're gonna be his wife soon.

You sighed and got up to dress into something more comfortable. As you removed your clothes, your hand found something in your underclothes.

The key.

You fiddled with it. Its useless now. The thief probably has broken your machine or sold it and it could be anywhere in the world now, also useless without this key here.

You put it back in your underclothes. Perhaps it'll be of use you can craft your machine again one day.

Lying in your bed, you thought about Guy. You didnt feel guilty, no. He had it coming, and it really was a matter of you versus him at the end. But what bothers you is how much you had underestimated him.

Guy's plan was perfect. There was no chance of escape for you. He had ambushed you and Salauddin, and when you narrowly escaped that attack, he brought Baldwin to Egypt to cause misunderstandings between him and Salauddin. And when they found you with Abbas, all his allegations were perfectly said. You're only here because Baldwin was far too much in love with you. He had no reason to not take Guy's words over yours.

You turned to your side and closed your eyes.

Perhaps God saved me.

Today is Saturday and Sibylla had taken you to get your dress fitted.

"Whats that?" You pointed at the huge frame, covered by silk as the servants struggled to hang it on the wall.

"Oh, you're not supposed to see it yet, but Baldwin had commissioned a portait of you. He wants to gift it to you tomorrow, so dont peek. He'd hate to miss your first reaction." She explained.

"You look... absolutely stunning." Sibylla praised as she looked at you in awe. She brought some jewellery to pair with your white gown. A diamond necklace, tear drop earrings, and-

The ring.

"Its the-"

"The exact same ring!" Sibylla finished for you, slipping it on your finger. "After yours was stolen by that thief in Egypt, Baldwin had the same ring made again by the royal jeweller within a day!" Your heart warmed at the gesture. Baldwin must've known you felt guilty over losing his family ring.

"Isabella, will you pass me the veil?" You asked. Isabella brought the soft veil and helped you wear it. As she was adjusting it, your eyes caught sight of her hands again.

"Oh, they didnt heal?" You gently grabbed her hands, taking note of the same red welts on her arms again. She pulled her hands from your grasp away.

"N-no, they healed princess. Its just- its that I'm stressed again! Thats why my skin is itchy and I- scratched them raw."

"Stressed? By what?" You asked.

"Oh- um, the wedding." She muttered. "Its- its not that I'm not excited for it, I am very happy for the union of you and His majesty, but its just we have very little time and there's so much to do-"

You giggled, nodding at her understandingly. "I see. Well, I apologise for causing you to stress. And I hope you know how much I appreciate your efforts."

"Its my honour to serve you, princess." She squeaked.

"Well, do get those checked out soon, Isabella. I dont want you getting sick." Sibylla advised the young girl who bowed her head before taking her leave.

Sometime later, after you had lunch with Baldwin, you decided to go to the gardens and... be by yourself for a while.

Planned or not, I'm getting married tomorrow. This will be my last day as a single woman and I... I should savour every moment left.

You were sitting in a cozy little spot in the royal garden. It was besides the huge bush maze, near the area where your time machine had first gotten burned by the maids accidentally. Speaking of maids, the small entourage had given you space and were standing near the maze, away from your eyes with some knights. They were all eager to please you, the future queen, if only to get a better status by you or Baldwin.

But you had already decided to make Isabella your lady-in-waiting. She deserves it, for everything she's done for you.

You laid down on the soft bed of grass, looking up at the sky as you wondered what will happen tomorrow. Well, nothing about the wedding, Sibylla had made you rehearse several times that you knew exactly how the ceremony will go tomorrow. No, you were curious about... how your wedding will impact the future.

Will you cease to exist? Will the world change because the crusades might not happen since a Christian king married a Muslim commoner? Will there-

Doves flew up in the sky. You smiled, recalling the doves in Abbas's house. You hoped he was alright now. Maybe he could attend the wedding-

Wait.

You sat up with a jolt at the realisation, heart beating fast as you connected the dots.

Isabella rushed to the gardens. A servant had told her that you had immediately summoned her. Fearing the worst, she hiked up her gown and ran as fast as she could.

She was out of breath by the time she found you. "You called for me, princess?" She gasped out. You hummed, standing beside a gilded cage of doves.

"Arent they so beautiful?" You asked her, beckoning her to come forward. "They are indeed." She agreed, standing beside you.

"I was thinking of releasing them tomorrow, outside the chapel. All the maids could hold them in their hands and release them as I walk out with the king. What do you think?"

She nodded. "Wonderful idea. I'll go and have it arranged-"

"Hm? Oh, I took care of that. Why dont you open the cage and hold this one for me?" You smiled at her as you made you took a few steps back. "And gloves off, Isabella. I want to see how you will look like tomorrow."

Isabella throat ran dry, She gulped looking at you, then at the cage before back at you.

"I- I cant hold the doves, princess. They'll slip out of my hands-"

"We have plenty here for you to practise. Dont worry. Now make haste." You crossed your arms in front of you and looked at her expectantly.

She parted her lips to say something, but then looked back at the cage. "Whats the matter? Dont know how to hold them?" You sighed before making your way back to the cage. "They're just tiny little birds, gentle ones really. They wont bite you, so I dont know why you fear them. Here, let me show you how to hold one." You opened the cage and carefully held the dove in your hands, petting it softly. "There, there."

You suddenly thrusted the bird in her direction, and Isabella jumped back. "What's the matter? Scared of birds?"

Isabella hesitantly nodded. "Yes, I'm sorry princess- I- I- dont like birds. I'm very much afraid of them." You nodded understandingly, before placing the bird back in the cage. "How very inconsiderate of me. Very well, off you go." Isabella bowed graciously and was about to leave when you suddenly grabbed her arm and rubbed a feather along her exposed arm.

"P-princess-!" She shrieked, trying to yank her arm out of your grasp but your grip didnt relent.

"Would you look at that?" You grinned looking at the area turning bright red. "Are you itchy now? Did I stress you too much?"

Isabella could only look at you in horror as you became angry.

"How stupid do you think I am?" You snarled before throwing her hand down. "That itchy red skin wasnt from stress, it was from birds!" Her eyes widened.

"You had me thinking that your tears, your red skin, your snotty sniffles was because you were soooo concerned for me. But you actually had the rose fever from birds!" You recalled seeing the scratch on her hands the day you had first seen her skin, which wasnt just random skin welts. They were hives, from her allergy to avian protein (or birds, in simple terms).

Isabella could only look at you in silence as you continued. "How long did you think you could keep this charade up? Did you honestly think I wouldnt find out?!" She kept quiet while you continued, which only made you angrier.

"It was you. You were the thief. You- only you knew when I would leave the palace. You followed me! And you stole from me?!" When she didnt speak, your threatened her.

"Say something before I tell the king how you attacked me!"

Isabella looked up, and she smirked.

"You have no proof."

You looked at her in disbelief. Instead of defending herself, denying all the things- she basically admitted to it all.

"Isabella, where are my belongings?" You asked her. "If you return my things, I wont let you stay here, but I will let you leave this castle on your two feet." You didnt bother asking her why she did it, you cant waste any more time. You need to get your time machine back.

She shrugged, playing with her nails. Now that she was caught, she didnt bother putting up her scared, demure little girl image. "It doesnt matter. You will never get it. And you're not getting rid of me either. After all, you have no proof of any of the things you accused me of."

"You think you're going to get away with it?" She hummed. "I already have, princess. Now, I will be returning to my duties to prepare for you wedding tomorrow. And I think we'll do no birds-"

You pulled out a knife, silencing her. She looked at the knife before smiling. "Are you really going to kill me? Did you forget how I overpowered you and Abbas back there?"

"I havent." You bring the knife up to your throat. "But if you dont tell me where my belongings are this instant, I will slit my throat and let you explain to the king how you killed me. Oh and you may think you can just sneak out of here, but remember, there's a whole entourage who saw you come here. They'll tell Baldwin you were the last person to see me, and then no matter where you run, Baldwin will hunt you down. Him and his Templar knights."

Her brows furrowed at your threat. "Princess, I dont-"

"Dont think for a moment I wont do it, Isabella. I'm mental." When she remained quiet, you pressed the blade harder into your neck, just enough for the skin to break and blood to pour, making her eyes wide.

"Okay! Okay- stop! I'll tell you."

Isabella lead you to a room inside the castle, hidden away in a corner. You had never been here before, you realised when you stepped inside. She pulled out a drawer from the desk, which had a false floor in it. Lifting the wooden panel, you saw all your belongings, including your time machine.

"Leave." You ordered her. Once you were alone, you pulled out the key from your underclothes and placed it inside. Saying a tiny prayer, you turned on the machine.

It worked. The tiny lights turned on. All you had to do was set the date and-

The machine was snatched from your hands. "Isabella drop-!" Your eyes widened at the sight of Baldwin holding the machine.

"What are you doing?" He asked you, looking at the machine.

"Baldwin, please give it back-"

"This?" He shook the machine in his hands. "Sure, you can have it." He smiled at you before bashing the machine to the ground.

"BALDWIN NO! STOP!" You tried to stop him, but Baldwin pushed you away and kept smashing the machine until its lights went out and they key broke.

"NOOOOO!" You finally snatched it from his hands but it was too late. The screen wouldnt turn on, wouldnt display the date no matter what you did. The key was broken.

"WHAT IS WRONG WITH YOU?!" You cried out.

"What is wrong with me? What is wrong with you?!" Baldwin yelled. "What were you going to do with that? Leave me, the love of your life, to go where?! Back to heaven?!"

Heaven? No fucking way-

"Do you- do you actually think I'm an angel?" Oh god. The look on his face was enough to let you know that he was actually serious.

"You can deny it all you want, but I am your husband to be and you cannot lie to me! You appeared out of nowhere in my castle. You cured me, you brought that baby back to life and you have escaped death one too many times! You may think I'm a fool, but I'm the king of Jerusalem, head of the Church and you were sent to me by God Himself! YOU ARE MINE AND I WILL NOT LET YOU GO BACK!"

Oh God. Oh God, you're marrying a crazy person.

Wait.

"How did you know I was here?" Your brows knitted together when he didnt reply, still looking at you in rage. "Did Isabella-" You gasped.

Of course. OF-FUCKING-COURSE!

"She wasnt a thief. She was a spy!" You chuckled humourlessly. "All this time, I thought Guy was behind it all, but I knew- I knew he was too dumb to come up with such a plan. It was you! It was always you! You sent the Ismailis after me! You sent Isabella after me to steal my belongings and spy on me! You set me up with Abbas so that when you "saved" me, I'd fall for you! Oh and I'm sure you made it seem like Charlotte was also here because Guy had called her. You framed Guy just so that you could have an excuse to get rid of him!"

"I did it because I love you!"

"You hurt me because you loved me?" You whispered to him, tears flowing down your cheeks. "I almost burned to death because of you. And you say- no. Why did you do this, Baldwin? Why the hell did you do all this?!"

"I was- I was testing you." He answered, bending down on his knee to cup your face. "I... only wanted to see if you would come to me for help. If you truly trusted me, loved me enough to come to me." He wiped your tears away. "I'm sorry it had to happen this way, but it worked out in the end-"

"You dont test the people you love, Baldwin."

"Oh, come on. Even God tests his strongest believers-"

"YOU ARE NOT GOD!" You shrieked, pushing him away.

"I'm not, but I'm special to Him. He made you for me. He gifted you to me. He made you fall in love-"

"I dont love you!" You cried. "I can never love you! Never!"

Baldwin's face hardened. "You do love me. You said so yourself. Now, youre just saying nonsense out of hysterics. Calm down-"

"I hate you. I have never loathed anything as much as I loathe you. I would never love you, even if you were the last man on Earth. I fucking hate you."

Baldwin stared at your red face. "Well, I hope you can change your mind because we will be getting married tomorrow regardless." He tried to touch your face but you slapped his hand away. "Besides, I love you enough for the both of us."

Its Sunday. You were locked in your room with a whole infantry ordered to not let you out. You had cried the entire night at your loss, at your fate, at your stupidity. How could you have ever trusted Baldwin? And now you will have to marry this religious lunatic.

The maids did their best to dress you up and tried to mask your red, swollen eyes. And with Isabella in the room, you were sure she had told them to not comment at your pitiful state.

You were standing outside the chapel with Salauddin. Everything seemed to blur, the choir singing, the attendees- you couldnt focus on anything.

"Y/n." You finally looked up at Salauddin, who was looking at you with deep concern. "Are you okay?" He asked you, noticing your teary eyes and dull expression.

"No."

He wasnt expecting you to answer bluntly.

"Do you want to marry Baldwin?" He whispered.

"No."

"I can help you-"

"No." You sniffled. "No one can."

The knights stood outside the chapel doors, waiting for you to enter. A few ladies held your trail behind you. Salauddin cast a glance at them before passing you something in your hand discreetly.

"Abbas asked me to give you this."

You opened your palm to see-

A key.

The key!

But how did he make this? You never designed it-

You smiled. That genius. He must've used the other parts to figure out the design and crafted it.

Abbas, I'm sorry I dont give you enough credit.

"Give him my thanks. And a lot of money, hm?" Salauddin could only nod in confusion. You looked back at your ladies. "I need to pee." Their eyes widened at the use of such crass language, especially in front of the sultan.

"But princess, the ceremony is about to start-"

"Would you rather I pee in my gown?" You snapped.

"But there is no bathroom here-"

"Then be useful and find a sheet and a bush. Now!" They all scrambled away to find some bush. You looked at the knights in front of you. "Go inside and inform them of a delay. The princess has to take a shit."

They looked hesitant to leave. "I'm not taking off my underclothes in front of you men. LEAVE!" They hurriedly went inside and closed the door to give you privacy.

You looked at Salauddin. "Can I borrow your horse?" He nodded, helping you up on it.

"Where are you going? I'll come with."

You shake your head. "No. I have to go alone. And I suggest you go inside as well."

"Y/n-"

"Please, Salauddin. No more questions. I dont want to lie to you." You smiled at him.

Salauddin reluctantly went inside the chapel, and you rode the horse out of there. There was only so long before Baldwin realised you had left, so you needed to speed things up. Grateful that you had swapped your broken time machine during your heated argument with Baldwin. You placed the new key in, just as you heard the sound of galloping horses and Baldwin-

"Y/N!" You didnt pay attention as you sped off ahead, only stopping when you reached the edge of the cliff. Climbing down, you looked at your machine as you turned the key.

It didnt turn on.

No. No. No-

"Y/N! GET BACK HERE!" Baldwin yelled at you, getting off his horse as he made his way. His troops had surrounded the area so you couldnt escape.

You looked back at your time machine and you- you banged it with your hand. "Come on. Come on!" This had to work- you banged on it as you would bang on a TV set when it stopped working, on a remote when it didnt operate quite right.

"Did you think you could escape me?!" You looked up and Baldwin was a few feet away.

"Baldwin stop!" You took a step back, nearing the cliff. "I'll jump-I'll fucking jump, I swear!" He halted.

"Dont be stupid, Y/n. Come to me, and we can put this behind us-"

You banged on the machine, cutting him off.

The machine turned on.

You grinned as Baldwin stared at you, shaking his head. "Dont-"

You jumped, pressing the button and hoping you returned to your time. You hadnt been able to set the date cause of the broken buttons.

The last thing you heard was Baldwin screaming your name.

So what do you guys think? Yall better comment and send asks and reboots because i sacrificed lunch and dinner for this.

Also, what do u guys think will happen in the next part? Do you think she'll return home or to a new timeline??? And which era???��👁

PART 8 is here!

#yandere baldwin #yandere salauddin #time traveller au #baldwin iv #king baldwin x reader #the leper king #king baldwin iv #salauddin

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iholdwhatican · 10 months ago

Text

tension

part two to reunions - must read part 1 first!

pairing: art donaldson x reader x patrick zweig

length: 3.2k

author's note: this took wayyyy too long for me to do yall, i'm so sorry. these two have a tight hold on me and i'm in the trenches. i've got some good stuff lined up tho, and i'm super excited to write it heeheehee :) also smut in the future will be much longer and much more detailed, just fyi

tags: y/n is art donaldson's wife ; birthday party ; art is down bad ; patrick wants y/n ; possessive!art ; the boys are fighting ; no use of y/n ; pining ; sexual tension ; sugar mommy y/n? ; unapologetic flirting with your bff's wife at his birthday party

warnings: sexual content, p in v, not super detailed but still there!

summary: the stressful night of the birthday party continues, and you find yourself pinging between art and patrick like a tennis ball. how the hell did you get yourself into this?

originally posted by iholdwhatican

It took four minutes and 36 seconds of Art and Patrick being alone outside before the anxiety became too much. Your dress was too tight against your skin and the chatter of the guests rattled in your skull. Your mind replayed the anger on Art’s face over and over, convinced that he’d direct it at you the moment he came back in. And if you were being honest, you couldn’t stop thinking about that kiss.

Your blood boiled with the ferocity of it, and an ache in your core begged for another taste.

Another three minutes and 18 seconds passed while you downed half of your second glass of wine. You made conversation with a few people who caught your eye, making sure all the food and drink were up to par. Not that you really could care about that right now. Your mind was a jumble of thoughts about the two men on the balcony.

Art, Patrick, Art, Patrick, Art, Patrick, Art, Patrick

“You look like you’re gonna puke.”

For the second time that night, Patrick Zweig’s voice made you jump.

You looked at him, catching sight of that damned smirk that made your stomach flip, and furrowed your brows. One quick scan of the room came up empty for your husband, forcing the anxiety in your chest to worsen.

“Where’s Art?” You asked, not missing the way your voice wobbled slightly.

“Relax.” Patrick responded, resting a hand on your shoulder, “He went to the kitchen, I think. I didn’t kill him. And he didn’t run for the hills either.”

You decided not to comment on how easily he’d read your worries without you saying anything. For some reason, you were an open book to him.

A deep sigh left you. You licked your lips anxiously- which immediately caused Patrick’s eyes to fall on your mouth.

“What happened out there?”

The man gave you a shrug, letting his hand fall back to his side, “Nothing, really. We just talked for a bit. He told me I could stay, as long as I stopped flirting with you.”

“So does that mean you’re going to stop?” The idea made you slightly unhappy, which in turn filled you with guilt. Why were you so excited by his flirtations when you had a wonderful, loving husband who treated you like a queen?

But then Patrick grinned, and you knew the answer before he said it, “Well, I’ve never been one to do what I’m told.”

A smile grew over your lips, and you tried to hide it with an eye roll, “Why don’t you mingle? Try some food. I’m going to find my husband.”

He didn’t miss the enunciation you put on ‘my husband’, and you didn’t miss the way his eyes darkened as you said it. You didn’t give it time to linger, instead turning away and moving towards the kitchen.

You knew the look Patrick had in his eyes. You’d seen it a dozen times in Art’s. On the court, over a board game, in all sorts of scenarios. And every time, even now, the look sent a chill down your spine.

That expression was clear, resolute competition.

Just as Patrick had said, you found Art in the kitchen. With his back to you, you had a perfect view of his tense shoulders and hanging head as he poured himself a glass of water. He was all wound up, and you knew it was your fault. Now it was your responsibility to fix it.

You stepped up behind him, sliding a hand between his shoulder blades. He didn’t hesitate to lean into the touch, a subconscious reaction. He knew it was you just by the feel of your hand on him. And, even if he might be furious, he still found comfort in it.

“Hey…” You breathed, leaning to the side to meet his gaze. Art looked at you over his shoulder, a half-smile quirking his lips up, “How are you doing?”

“Hey.” He responded, turning and sliding his hands over your hips. Your chest pressed against his as he leaned down and placed a kiss on your hairline. Then he just lingered there, breathing in your smell, “I honestly don’t know. I just- it was so weird to see him.”

“Yeah, of course it was.” Your words reached him in a soft, comforting tone. The guilt of putting your perfect, doting husband in this situation was enough to make you feel like you had barbed wire around your neck. You had to pay penance- somehow. You rubbed your hand in circles over his back, “I’m sorry, sundrop. I don’t know what I was thinking when I invited him.”

Sundrop. A nickname that went way back to the early days of your relationship. Art was an energetic puppy dog with a halo of golden curls and a smile that made your insides feel hot. He was what you pictured a personification of the sun to be, hence the pet name. He pretended not to like it, but his eyes always sparkled a certain way when you said it.

Art pulled his head away to peer down into your eyes, his own pensive and confused, “No, baby, don’t be sorry. It was a great fucking surprise. Just… a surprise.”

You shook your head. He was so fucking good to you, “You’re allowed to be mad at me.”

“Mad? At you?” In one quick motion, he picked you up and set you on the counter. Your legs opened for him without hesitation, allowing him to slot right in between them, “I don’t think that’s possible.”

You fought the blush rising in your cheeks and rolled your eyes, “You think too highly of me.”

“No. Never.” He replied instantly. He kissed your chin. Then your jaw. Then your neck. Then down your throat, “As far as I’m concerned, you’re God.”

“Art-” You argued, though you weren’t sure what for. You tilted your neck back and offered yourself up to him.

“I could spend my life on my knees for you and be happy.” His words were muffled as he mouthed at your neck, sending shivers down your spine. This, combined with the kiss from earlier, was making you ache with need. You were half-tempted to end the party early and take your pretty husband to bed.

You bit your lip when he ran his tongue over a sensitive spot above your collarbone. If he wasn’t in between them, you’d be squeezing your thighs together.

When Art pulled away, his eyes had darkened. Dilated pupils and heavy breaths told you all you needed to know. He was just as fucking horny as you were right now. His hands held your hips tighter.

“Do you think we’d be left alone long enough for me to show you how much I mean it?” He asked. It was almost as if he were begging. As if he couldn’t bear the idea of doing anything other than dropping to his knees and devouring you.

And God, when he looked at you like that, you had no choice but to say yes.

Unfortunately, fate intervened, and you were kept from making a scene at your husband’s birthday party.

“Hey, you two, quit snogging and come entertain us!” One of Art’s tennis friends called, sticking their head into the kitchen. The big grin on their face told you it was just teasing, but you still felt your face burning with embarrassment.

“It’s my birthday, let me do what I want.” Art jeered right back, lifting you off the counter and back onto your own two feet. You laughed airily at the comment, feeling more light-headed than anything.

Before following his friend back into the action, he whispered a quick, “Later, okay?” to you. And then he left you standing in the kitchen- touch-starved, foggy-headed, and excruciatingly aroused.

It was then that you realized you didn’t even get to ask him what happened with Patrick.

Upon re-entering the party, you found yourself taking note of two things- or rather, two people. One, Art- conversing with some friends from the foundation with a big grin on his face. Two, Patrick- having his fill of finger foods from the refreshment table. He was alone. And though you tried to fight it, you found yourself gravitating towards him.

“Do they not have food where you’re from?” You teased, falling into place at his side. Your gaze slid over the spread before flicking up to his face.

You’d caught him mid-bite, and he attempted to swallow quickly and regain his composure. Something warmed slightly in your chest. Endearing.

“Well, I’m kinda… in between places right now.” He explained, tongue stuck in his cheek to clear out residual bits of food, “And there’s never stuff as good as this.”

You let the compliment slide away, instead focusing on his more troubling response, “Are you homeless?”

“What? No.” He chuckled, as if the question were preposterous, “I go all over for tennis. It’s just easier to stay on the move.”

You raised an eyebrow, “And on off-season?”

Something in his expression darkened, only for a moment, and then he was back to cocky smiles and overwhelming confidence, “I’m too busy to care about that. And what’s it matter to you, anyway?”

“I’d like to think I’m a good person.” You said, plucking a snack off the table and popping it into your mouth. You chewed it halfway before continuing, “And a good person worries if they think someone they care about isn’t doing well.”

Patrick grinned at you for five long seconds. And it took him actually saying the words to realize where you’d slipped up.

“You care about me?”

Shit. You had not meant to say that. Why was this man so damn good at getting every little thought in your head to spill out of your mouth?

“If caring about you means I don’t want you sleeping under a bridge somewhere, then sure.”

“Okay, I would never let it get that far-”

“I wanna help.”

He blinked, “Help how?” Briefly, very briefly, you thought of your bed. Your comfortable, spacious bed, perfect for three individuals. You could picture it- you, safe and sound and nestled between the two men. Art, your lovely, obedient husband on one side, letting himself love and be loved. And Patrick on the other side, nice and cozy with a roof over his head and a full belly.

The image flashed in an instant, and you were left with hollow, heavy guilt. You swallowed.

“How much do you need?”

“Huh?” You rolled your eyes at him, “How much money do you need? To keep you afloat for the next little while. And I’ll send you home tonight with leftovers.”

Patrick let the words wash over him, slowly smiling as they did. He took a step towards you, close enough that one tiny shove would have your bodies pressed together. You could smell him, all sweat and cigarettes and woodsy cologne that made your head spin. You’d been wound up all night, and this was absolutely not helping.

“You gonna write me a check? Use your hard-earned money to get a practical stranger a hotel for a couple nights?” He murmured, heavy on the charm, “What would your husband think?”

He knew he’d gotten under your skin. He knew what he was doing. He was fucking enjoying this.

You tried to hold your ground, looking up at him through your lashes, “It’s his money, actually. He makes sure I never have to work unless I want to.”

“Guess he treats you pretty well. And look how you’re taking advantage of it.” His hand lay on the table next to yours, his fingertips nearly brushing the skin of your wrist. How bad would it be if you closed the gap?

You bit your lip, “You’re allowed to turn me down.”

“I don’t think I’d ever turn you down, Mrs. Donaldson.”

Something about that title, something about the way he said it, made your blood run hot and cold at the same time. It reminded you of the myths of sirens. Beautiful monsters of the sea that used their voices to bring others to their demise. Talking to Patrick had that same type of allure, and the sense of danger.

“Then tell me what you need.”

“What do you think I need?”

Oh, you could think of a few things. But you could also feel a pair of eyes on you, and you knew exactly who they belonged to. Part of you wanted to tempt him, see if you could get another reaction like out on the balcony. However, you quickly shot the idea down. Not right now, not in the middle of a crowded party.

Lips curving into an innocent smile, you pushed yourself a step back from him, “I think you need a nice place to sleep. And a few good meals. And maybe a hug.”

The sudden switch-up took Patrick by surprise, but he handled it smoothly and responded only a beat later, “You’re offering?”

“At least for the first two.” You didn’t know what you’d do if you were in his arms. With the way you were feeling now, with two glasses of wine in your system, your boundaries were getting blurrier and blurrier. How humiliating.

His bottom lip jutted out into a pout. Which unfortunately dragged your gaze right down to his mouth. It took you a moment too long to meet his eyes again.

“What, we can’t hug? Don’t you consider me a friend?”

“I do.” You shrugged, tucking loose hair behind your ear, “Maybe I’m just not a touchy person.”

A lie. You knew it, and you could tell by the look on his face that he knew it too.

“Yeah.” He smirked, sounding the opposite of sincere, “Art’s wife isn’t a touchy person. Sure.”

You needed a cold shower. Or to go have some one-on-one time with your vibrator. Or maybe move to the seaside and spend your days going mad in a lighthouse. You weren’t sure. All you knew was how increasingly hot you were feeling.

“Speaking of Art, go talk to him. Try to make amends. Meet some of his friends.” You suggested, glancing over at your husband. He wasn’t watching you anymore, at least not straight on. But he had a radar when it came to you, and he was very diligent in keeping tabs. No matter what.

“You trying to get rid of me?” Patrick asked lightly. No heat behind the words.

“Oh, yes.” You admitted, placing your hands on his shoulders and pointing him towards Art, “Find me again before you leave and I’ll have your check.”

“Yes, ma’am.” He grinned at you over his shoulder, sending a wink before sauntering off.

Finally, you felt like you could actually get a breath in your lungs.

The party had ended. Guests went home, Patrick got his check and headed to a hotel you recommended, and you and your partner left all the cleanup for the morning. You barely gave it a second glance as you went up to bed with him, your hand held tightly in his.

Art fucked you like a starving man that night. You barely got into the room before his lips were plastered on your skin, his hands unzipping your dress with quick precision. He was usually much more reserved, but something about tonight had made him ravenous. And he wasn’t the only one.

You ended up on his lap; bare chests pressed together, skin sweaty and breaths heavy as you rolled your hips into him. His hands clutched your thighs, keeping you close, fingers pressing into the flesh. You pulled on his hair and his head immediately fell back. As if he were a puppet for you to position and use however you wanted. His eyes looked up at you with a fire in them you’d never seen before, but the adoration, the reverence, was all too familiar.

Your name fell from his lips over and over again like a prayer. The single word weaved with threads of devotion, possessiveness, desire. A song joined in chorus by whatever nonsensical phrase entered his head. I love you, so perfect, all mine, please, please, please.

He was claiming you. Marking his territory in his own special way. It didn’t matter that Patrick wasn’t here to see it, or that he probably would never even know. As long as Art could tell himself that you were his, he’d be okay. Jealousy was a good look on him.

You could feel your core tighten with each and every movement of his hips against you. You weren’t going to last much longer. But by the look in your husband’s eyes, neither was he.

Parted lips claimed yours in a messy kiss, tongue sliding into your mouth and exploring every open space. Then you were being flipped over; back pressed into the mattress as Art rocked into you with reckless abandon. He intertwined his fingers with yours and pinned your hands above your head without ever breaking the kiss.

You lasted about thirty seconds. Finally, the tension in you snapped and your orgasm washed over you in waves, leaving you limp and trembling. Art finished only a moment later. You could feel him pulsing inside of you as the aftershocks slowly faded away. The room reeked of sweat and sex and your head was spinning.

Art, your precious, dutiful man, rested his head on your chest as he attempted to catch his breath. You could feel the tickle of his lips kissing your skin, the soft squeeze of his hands on your hips. You ran a hand through his damp hair, fingers massaging his scalp.

“I love you.” He murmured against your ribs, right over your thundering heart. He said it like he couldn’t quite believe he was allowed, like he didn’t believe you were here, that you were his.

Dark hair and cigarette smoke flashed through your mind. Almost-touching hands and paper checks.

“I love you.” You responded, kissing his hairline, “Happy Birthday, baby.”

The only response you got was a tired, happy sound and another kiss to your collarbone. A quick adjustment later and the two of you were tucked under the blankets, your head on Art’s chest and his arm around you. Neither of you cared enough to clean yourselves up or to put pajamas on. Art was already softly snoring next to you, and you could feel your eyelids getting heavy.

As you listened to the baddump of his heart, a strange thought flitted through your mind. You’d just had the best sex of your life, and it was because of Patrick. You weren’t the only one who’d been thinking of him while in the throes of passion. The notion made something strange twinge in your gut.

And then, like he’d somehow read your mind, your phone lit up with a text.

Patrick Zweig: You free for lunch tomorrow?

***

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#challengers #challengers movie #challengers 2024 #art donaldson #art donaldson x reader #art donaldson x you #patrick zweig #patrick zweig x reader #patrick zweig x you #challengers fic #challengers fanfic #art donaldson x patrick zweig #challengers x reader #challengers x you #art donaldson x reader x patrick zweig #tashi duncan #charly writes!!#reunions series

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pbaz7 · 2 months ago

Text

ONE SHOT: CHASING FOREVER 2

paige x azzk

warning: light sexual content (not much honestly)

word count: 8k

A/N: A few people requested a part 2 of this one with a few different prompts! This one is pretty much like the first one just something cute but it’s kind of a prequel! Hope you enjoy :)

—————————————————————————

Paige pulled into her designated parking spot at the arena, backing in as Azzi glanced down at something on her phone. The car came to a smooth stop, and Paige hopped out, shutting her door quickly. Azzi reached for the handle to get out as well, but the click of the locks caught her off guard.

"Oh my God, Paige!" Azzi called, looking up to see Paige jogging around the front of the car, a grin plastered on her face.

"Hold on, hold on," Paige said dramatically as she unlocked the door and swung it open. "Alright it’s safe to get out now."

Azzi rolled her eyes but couldn’t help the laugh that rolled out. “You’re absolutely ridiculous.”

"Ridiculous or thoughtful? Pick one," Paige said, leaning down to offer her hand like she was escorting royalty.

Azzi took it, though she shook her head. “Baby I'm only 5 months. I’m barely showing. I don’t need you treating me like I’m made of glass.”

Paige ignored her, gently helping Azzi step out of the car. “You are literally carrying the most precious cargo in the world. If I don’t protect you, what kind of wife would I be?”

“I can still walk, you know,” Azzi said, amused. “I didn’t suddenly forget how to use my legs because I’m pregnant.”

“Uh-huh.” Paige wrapped an arm securely around Azzi’s waist as they began walking toward the arena. “And if I let you walk on your own, and you trip over one of those cracks in the concrete, whose fault would it be?”

“Yours, apparently,” Azzi teased. “Because my wife obviously controls the universe.”

“Exactly.” Paige grinned. “Glad we’re on the same page now.”

Azzi gave her a playful shove, though Paige barely budged. “You know this is only going to get worse the further along I get, right? You’re going to be insufferable.”

Paige looked at her with fake seriousness. “You knew what you were signing up for when you married me. It’s in the fine print.”

Azzi smirked. “Oh, I must’ve missed the part where you turn into an insanely overprotective bodyguard slash butler when I’m pregnant.”

“I prefer devoted partner and future mom of the year,” Paige said, brushing off her wife’s sarcasm.

As they reached the entrance to the arena, Azzi paused, looking at Paige with a softer expression. “You know I appreciate everything you do, right? Even if you’re over-the-top about it.”

Paige’s grin softened, her blue eyes sparkling as she leaned in to kiss Azzi’s temple. “I know. And I’m never gonna stop being over-the-top about you.”

Azzi rolled her eyes again despite her heart swelling. “Okay, but just don’t carry me in here or anything. We’re trying to keep this lowkey, remember?”

“Fine, fine,” Paige said, opening the door for her. “But only because I respect your boundaries…For now.”

They both laughed as they made their way toward the locker room, a few teammates glancing up and giving smiles and greeting them. Everyone on the team and within the organization had been sworn to secrecy about Azzi’s pregnancy, but they couldn’t help but admire how Paige hovered over her every chance she got.

As Azzi sat down in her usual spot, Paige grabbed her a water bottle and leaned down to kiss her forehead before heading off to her locker to get ready for the game. Azzi shook her head, smiling to herself.

“Over-the-top,” she muttered, but there was no denying she wouldn’t have it any other way.

Aaliyah strolled into the locker room with a grin, spotting Azzi sitting in the corner. She leaned casually against the bench, tilting her head. "How’s the baby daddy?" she teased.

Azzi laughed, resting a hand lightly on her bump. “The baby’s fine. But your friend is ridiculous,” she said, motioning toward the direction Paige was.

Aaliyah raised an eyebrow, clearly intrigued. “What’d she do now?”

Azzi laughed, shaking her head. “She literally refuses to let me do anything alone. This morning, she followed me to the bathroom because she had just gotten out of the shower and said the floor was too slippery for me to go alone. I keep trying to tell her I’m pregnant, not hopeless but it’s like talking to a brick wall.”

Aaliyah burst out laughing, folding her arms. “I mean, you married Paige. You should’ve known she was going to turn into your personal bodyguard. Remember how she was at UConn? She literally didn’t leave your side if she didn’t have to.”

“True,” Azzi admitted with a smile. “But this is next-level. She offered to carry me to the car last week because she said it was too hot outside with the heatwave.”

Aaliyah laughed again. “She was like this even when you weren’t pregnant though. Remember when you got that stomach bug like your freshman year, and she showed up to the dorm with five different types of soup because she didn’t know which one you’d want that night?”

Azzi groaned, though her smile didn’t fall. “I remember and you were definitely in on it. You and Nika were sitting there hyping her up like it wasn’t already over the top.”

“Guilty,” Aaliyah said with a shrug. “But hey, it worked though, didn’t it? You got yourself a wife out of it.”

Azzi smirked, leaning back. “True. But I feel like it’s only going to get worse when I’m further along.”

Aaliyah grinned. “Absolutely. She’s going to be chasing after you with snacks and water 24/7.” She paused, for a second before she remembered something. “By the way, Nika and Caroline are already fighting over who gets to be the God mom. They’re both dying to come visit and see you guys when the seasons over.”

Azzi laughed. “I’m sure they were. Knowing those two, they’ll probably try to outdo each other with baby gifts.”

“Exactly,” Aaliyah said, shaking her head. “Nika already texted me asking if Paige had set up a baby registry yet because Paige refused to tell her anything.”

Before Azzi could respond, Paige returned with a large bowl of fruit in her hand. She handed it to Azzi with a proud smile. “Here you go, wifey.”

Azzi scrunched her nose at the sight of it, her appetite for acidic things these days fickle at best. “Fruit? Again?”

Paige gave her a pointed look, crossing her arms. “Yes, fruit. It’s good for you and the baby.”

Azzi sighed, already knowing she wasn’t going to win this argument. “Fine,” she muttered, taking the bowl reluctantly. But as soon as she spotted the pineapple and grapes, she wrinkled her nose even more. “You know I can’t eat these.”

Paige tilted her head, looking down at the bowl and immediately knew what Azzi was referring to. “What’s wrong with pineapple and grapes baby?”

Azzi shot her a look. “The pineapple is too acidic, and I just don’t trust grapes right now.”

Paige groaned lightly but grabbed the fork, fishing out the pineapple and grapes with exaggerated care. “You’re so picky these days,” she mumbled as she removed them, dropping some of the pieces onto a napkin and others in her mouth.

Azzi smirked slightly, satisfied now, but as Paige handed the bowl back, Azzi noticed one lonely piece of pineapple and a grape still sitting there with the rest of the fruit. She raised an eyebrow. “Really?”

Paige grinned. “One of each won’t hurt you.”

Azzi rolled her eyes but stabbed the pineapple with her fork, eating it with a dramatic slowness just to make her point. Paige watched, arms crossed, clearly fighting back a laugh.

Aaliyah bit her lip, trying not to laugh as she watched the whole interaction. “You’ve got her trained, P.”

Paige grinned, sliding onto the chair next to Azzi as she watched her eat every piece. “Gotta make sure my wife and baby are taken care of. It’s my job.”

Azzi rolled her eyes but leaned into Paige slightly as she ate. Aaliyah smirked, looking between them. “You two are disgusting, I’m leaving” she joked, though her smile said otherwise as she walked away.

…

Azzi sat on the bench, leaning back casually with her arms draped over the backrest, her legs crossed. Outwardly, she looked just like everyone else on the team, nodding along with the assistant coach’s occasional remarks and clapping when her teammates made a good play. But inwardly, she wasn’t paying as much attention to the game as she probably should have been.

It had all started a few minutes into the second quarter when Paige drove to the basket, got fouled, and managed to finish the layup. The crowd erupted as Paige flexed in front of the other team's bench, her biceps protruding as she looked at them with a smirk before walking to the free throw line. Azzi's heart skipped a beat, her stomach getting warm, and then...a heatwave crashed over her.

Oh God please not now, she thought, shifting uncomfortably as she uncrossed and crossed her legs again and adjusted her posture.

She tried to refocus on the game, but it was hopeless. From that moment on, Paige was the only thing Azzi could focus on. Every time Paige dribbled the ball, Azzi’s eyes were locked on the way her forearms tensed with each movement. When Paige pulled up for a jumper, Azzi found herself mesmerized by the way her shoulders rolled back. And when Paige sprinted down the court on a fast break, the sight of the sweat glistening on her arms made Azzi bite her lip unconsciously.

It was maddening. Azzi silently cursed her pregnancy hormones. She discreetly fanned herself with her hand for a moment and shifted in her seat again, trying to refocus, but every time she glanced at Paige, it got worse.

The worst s ame when Paige dove for a loose ball, her jersey riding up slightly as she scrambled back to her feet. Azzi nearly groaned out loud. She pinched the bridge of her nose and leaned back in her seat, silently begging for halftime to come quickly.

Her fingers tapped lightly on the edge of her seat as she forced herself to clap for another play.

But the way Paige’s muscles flexed as she high-fived a teammate after a timeout made Azzi seriously doubt her ability to make it through the game.

During the third quarter Paige clapped her teammates’ hands as she jogged to the bench, her jersey slightly untucked and her chest rising and falling as she caught her breath. She plopped down in the empty seat next to Azzi, wiping sweat off her brow with her forearm before grabbing her Gatorade bottle from the trainers behind her. Azzi swore her pulse skyrocketed the moment Paige sat down.

Paige took a long sip of her drink before handing it over to Azzi, her silent way of telling her to hydrate. Azzi reluctantly took it, her hands brushing against Paige’s as she grabbed the bottle. That small touch alone made her legs ache, and she immediately scolded herself internally.

“You good?” Paige asked, leaning back against the bench and looking at her wife.

Azzi nodded, as she took a large gulp of the Gatorade trying to cool herself down. Paige started rambling about the game—something about the opposing team’s defense collapsing too easily in transition without a shooter on the wing—but Azzi couldn’t focus on a single word. Her gaze had dropped to Paige’s hands, her eyes tracing the veins that ran along them. They stood out prominently against her skin, glistening slightly with sweat, and Azzi was mesmerized.

“Azzi?” Paige’s voice snapped her out of her daze.

“Hm?” Azzi blinked, trying to play it cool.

“You’re not listening to a word I’m saying, are you?” Paige asked.

“I am!” Azzi insisted, sitting up straighter, but the way she shifted in her seat betrayed her. She bit the inside of her cheek, trying to ease the warmth spreading through her body.

Paige raised an eyebrow, her blue eyes narrowing slightly as if piecing something together. A slow smirk spread across her face, and she leaned a little closer to Azzi, lowering her voice. “Mmm... I see what’s happening.”

Azzi immediately avoided eye contact, crossing her arms in mock defiance. “I have no idea what you’re talking about. Leave me alone.”

Paige chuckled, her smile widening as she leaned in closer, her breath brushing against Azzi’s ear so no one else could hear. “It’s the hot flashes, isn’t it?”

Azzi groaned softly, her cheeks flushing as she turned to glare at Paige. “Shut up,” she muttered, trying to fight the grin tugging at her lips.

But Paige only grinned wider, leaning back and resting an arm on the back of Azzi’s seat. “Can’t help it if my wife finds me irresistible,” she teased.

Azzi rolled her eyes, but the heat in her cheeks betrayed her. “You’re actually the most annoying person I’ve ever met.”

“Your fault for marrying someone who’s annoying,” Paige quipped, a glint in her eyes.

Azzi shot her a pointed look, though her lips twitched with a tiny smile. “Clearly, I wasn’t thinking straight,” she fired back, trying to regain the upper hand.

Paige grinned as she watched the game. “Nope, you’re just madly in love.”

Before Azzi could respond, the coach called for a substitution, motioning for Paige to check back into the game. Paige gave Azzi one last smirk as she stood, brushing imaginary dust off her shorts.

“Enjoy the show mama,” she said with a wink.

Azzi rolled her eyes, but the corner of her mouth flickered as she watched Paige stroll over to the scorer’s table, effortlessly exuding her charisma. She shook her head, muttering under her breath, “I married a narcissist,” though her gaze lingered a little too long on Paige’s retreating figure.

Azzi immediately regretted showing any signs to Paige because, from the moment her wife stepped back onto the court, she carried herself with an almost unbearable level of cockiness that the crowd fed into. It was like Paige knew every little thing that could send Azzi spiraling and turned it into a game of her own.

Every time Paige scored, she celebrated just enough to draw Azzi’s attention. After a three-pointer, she held up three fingers, her hand flexing purposefully as if she knew Azzi’s eyes would lock on the veins running down her arm. On the free-throw line, Paige closed her eyes, took a deep breath and dragged her tongue slowly across her lips before releasing the ball, making it impossible for Azzi to think about anything else.

When Paige got another and-one, she flexed her arms again, turning just slightly toward the bench. Her muscles rippled under her jersey, and the subtle cock of her head as she looked directly at Azzi made it clear she knew exactly what she was doing.

Then there was the jersey wipe. It should’ve been innocent—a player lifting their jersey to wipe sweat from their face—but when Paige did it, exposing the muscles of her stomach, Azzi felt her entire body tense. She crossed her legs tightly and clenched her jaw, desperately willing herself to focus on the game.

Just as Azzi thought she might get a moment of reprieve during a timeout, Paige managed to take it a step further. As she walked past her to sit on the bench, she casually brushed her hand along the small of Azzi’s back. It was brief, barely noticeable to anyone else, but the heat radiating from Paige’s body sent a shiver down Azzi’s spine.

Azzi’s breath hitched, and she instinctively closed her eyes, trying to steady herself. This woman is literally going to give me a heart attack, she thought, exhaling sharply.

When she opened her eyes, Paige was already standing up from the huddle, her smirk practically glowing as she called out over her shoulder, “You’re doing so well.”

Azzi shook her head, biting the inside of her cheek to stop herself from smiling as she sat down.

It was maddening how something so simple—so mundane—could leave her feeling completely needy.

…

After the game, a few players lingered on the court to sign autographs and take pictures with the fans who had stuck around. Azzi, always being generous with her time, was among them, chatting and smiling as she signed jerseys and basketballs. Paige, of course, stayed nearby—not hovering, but never straying out of earshot. She leaned casually against the scorer's table, talking to a few people, occasionally glancing over at Azzi while she talked with fans. She always had that protective instinct about her with Azzi, but it was heightened now that Azzi was pregnant.

As Azzi handed back a signed jersey, a young fan excitedly darted forward, accidentally bumping into her stomach with their elbow in the process. It wasn’t a hard hit—just enough to be uncomfortable—but it was enough to make Paige’s head fully snap in that direction as Azzi’s hand immediately went to her stomach instinctively.

Her relaxed posture vanished instantly as she straightened, her piercing blue eyes narrowing on the scene. Paige took a step forward, already halfway to Azzi before Azzi noticed her.

She turned to meet Paige’s gaze at the same time with a calm expression already knowing her wife was panicking. Her brown eyes softened as she shot Paige a subtle warning look—Relax.

Paige froze in place, jaw tight as her gaze flicked between Azzi and the fans. She knew Azzi didn’t want her to overreact in public, but the protective instinct ringing in her head was almost impossible to suppress.

Azzi, reading Paige like a book, gave her a barely noticeable thumbs-up, her lips curling into a small smile to emphasize she was fine.

Paige exhaled through her nose, her shoulders relaxing slightly, though her eyes still lingered on Azzi for a moment longer as if double-checking. When Azzi turned back to the fan, resuming their conversation without missing a beat, Paige backed off.

Aaliyah, who had been signing things a few feet away, smirked as she walked over to Paige. “You good there, Mama Bear?” she teased under her breath, nudging Paige’s arm.

Paige rolled her eyes, but smiled softly as she crossed her arms. “I’m fine,” she muttered, her eyes still trained on Azzi. “Just...watching.”

Aaliyah chuckled and shook her head, patting Paige’s shoulder. “Yeah, I’ll bet you are.”

Meanwhile, Azzi gave one last signature before walking toward Paige. “You good, protector of all things Azzi?” she teased, her voice quiet as she reached her wife’s side.

Paige shrugged, sliding an arm around Azzi’s waist. “Yup,” she replied, pressing a quick kiss to Azzi’s temple as they started walking towards the locker room.

Azzi sighed but leaned into Paige anyway, unable to resist the warmth of her touch. “You’re going to give yourself a heart attack one of these days if you don’t relax.”

Paige grinned, her blue eyes sparkling. “Maybe but it’ll be worth it .”

…

Azzi sat off to the side in the back, her arms crossed and legs stretched out in front of her as she listened to Paige handle the press conference. Her mind wandered between the questions being asked, her own thoughts, and the swirl of heat she couldn't quite settle. The questions ranged from the usual—about her performance in the game, team dynamics, and upcoming opponents.

Paige, as always, answered everything with ease.

“Paige, how do you feel about your performance tonight? Do you feel like the team is in rhythm as you head deeper into the season?”

Paige nodded, leaning slightly forward. “Definitely. Um, we’ve been working hard in practice, and today was just a reflection of that. The chemistry’s there, and everyone’s stepping up when we need them. It’s just been fun to see it all come together on the court.”

Azzi found herself watching her wife with an almost distracted admiration. Paige had always been good at controlling the narrative, redirecting it as she needed. She answered with confidence and gave just enough without overexplaining. But as much as Azzi tried to focus on the flow of the conference, her body was betraying her again.

The sudden wave of heat hit her like a punch, taking her breath away. Azzi shifted slightly, her arms uncrossing as she tried to fan herself subtly without drawing attention. The flush spread from her neck to her face, and she clenched her jaw, her hands gripping the armrests of her chair. Her pregnancy hormones weren’t just inconvenient—they were relentless when she didn’t listen.

Azzi closed her eyes briefly, focusing on her breathing as Paige answered another question about their strategy tonight. She heard her wife’s steady voice cutting through the heat in her mind like a lifeline.

But then, as she opened her eyes, the question they'd all been dreading came.

“Paige,” one reporter began, leaning forward in his chair, “there have been reports from trusted sources that your wife, Azzi Fudd, is out for the season due to pregnancy. Can you confirm or deny this?”

Azzi froze as she tightened her grip on the armrests. Her stomach clenched, and she had to force herself to not press her hand over her belly as if to shield herself. She glanced at Paige, whose jaw tightened ever so slightly, but she kept her expression professional.

“Azzi is out right now due to an ankle injury,” Paige said. “That’s what the official report says because that’s exactly what it is. She’s taking the time to recover, and she’ll come back when she’s ready.”

The reporter wasn’t satisfied. “Yes, that’s what the official report says, but sources suggest otherwise. Are you saying there’s no truth to the pregnancy rumors?”

Paige let out a slow exhale through her nose, her lips pressing together briefly before she responded. “Um. Unfortunately I don’t think you can really take the words of ‘trusted WNBA sources’ a lot of times,” she said, the edge in her tone subtle. “Um, they have a history of spinning whatever narrative they want to fit the news cycle. We can take my situation coming out of college as an example. Back then I personally stated multiple times that I would be going to the draft after my season ended, but that didn’t stop reporters from writing articles about me trying to force my way out of Dallas with claims of me threatening to stay an extra year.”

The reporter pressed again. “Well, you kind of did eventually force your way out.”

Paige chuckled dryly, shaking her head. “I wouldn’t say forced,” she said, her tone still calm but laced with some sarcasm. “I had a genuine conversation with the front office about not being happy there, and they were able to work with me. We both got something out of the trade and we have a very good relationship to this day.”

Azzi shifted in her seat, trying to quell the heat building inside her. She knew Paige could handle the questions, but the scrutiny felt unbearable. The way the reporter kept pressing, the way her pregnancy was being prodded into the spotlight—it made her stomach churn.

“And as for the claims that your wife, Azzi Fudd, is expecting a child?” the reporter continued, asking the same question he’s already stated.

Paige’s jaw clenched again, her patience clearly thinning. “I’m not Azzi. I’m Paige,” she said firmly. “So I can’t really answer questions about Azzi for you. While yes, I am married to Azzi, we are two different entities. We’re two separate people with separate emotions, thought processes, expectations, you name it. So no, I, Paige Bueckers, cannot answer a question for Azzi Fudd right now.

The silence that followed was heavy, the reporter seemingly unsure how to respond as he sat back down.

Azzi let out a slow breath, her body relaxing slightly as she watched Paige shut down the line of questions.

Paige moved on to the next question with ease, her tone shifting back to a more casual rhythm as the questions transitioned back to basketball. But Azzi wasn’t paying attention anymore. She was too caught up in the way Paige had defended her and protected their privacy.

Azzi leaned back in her chair, exhaling slowly as she tried to focus on calming her body. Focus, Azzi. You survived a whole game, you can survive the rest of this press conference, she told herself. But the way Paige’s eyes kept flickering to the back of the room to her to check on her was making it incredibly difficult.

…

When they finally got home Azzi lay propped up against the headboard, her robe tied loosely around her as she flipped through the pages of her book. She was trying to focus on the words in front of her, but her thoughts kept drifting to the press conference earlier that day, and, more recently, to Paige. The sound of water shutting off in the bathroom made her glance up, her eyes lingering on the closed door.

When Paige finally emerged, a cloud of steam trailed behind her. Paige’s towel was wrapped snugly around her body, her skin glistening with lingering drops of water. Her hair damp around her shoulders. She moved toward the dresser, completely unaware of the effect she was having on Azzi as she sifted through her clothes.

Azzi’s eyes followed every movement, her gaze dragging down the muscles in Paige’s back as they flexed with each small shift. She bit her lip, her book forgotten in her lap. She wanted to focus on something—anything—other than the heat building in her chest, but it was impossible when Paige looked so effortlessly gorgeous.

“Baby,” Azzi said softly, her voice cutting through the quietness of the room.

Paige glanced over her shoulder, eyebrows raised. “Hm?” she replied absently, holding a folded T-shirt in her hand.

Azzi didn’t answer right away. Instead, she motioned with her hand, beckoning Paige to come over..

Paige set the shirt down and walked toward the bed. “What’s up?” she asked, her tone casual. She leaned down, her hand finding its place on Azzi’s stomach, her touch light. “You okay?” she asked softly, her brows knitting together with concern.

Azzi nodded, her hand coming up to rest on Paige’s. “We’re fine,” she assured her.

Paige exhaled in relief, her thumb tracing a soothing circle over Azzi’s stomach. “Why you being so ominous then?”.

Azzi tilted her head, a faint smile tugging at her lips as she watched her wife. Paige didn’t even realize how naturally her protectiveness kicked in, and something about that melted Azzi’s heart.

Azzi’s hand slid up, brushing against Paige’s wrist, and she gave a playful tug. “Sit with me for a second,” she murmured, her voice dipping slightly.

Paige tilted her head, curious but still confused. “You sure you’re okay baby?” she asked again, even as she lowered herself to sit on the edge of the bed beside Azzi.

Azzi nodded again, her hand still holding Paige’s. “I just missed you,” she said simply, her voice soft but laced with something that made Paige pause.

Paige finally looked at her, really looked at her, and something in Azzi’s expression made her eyes narrow slightly. “You’re looking at me funny,” Paige teased, though her own voice dipped slightly, a smirk tugging at her lips.

Azzi chuckled, her hand brushing against Paige’s again. “You’re the one walking around here looking like that,” she responded, her eyes glancing at the towel still wrapped around Paige’s body.

A grin broke across Paige’s face as she leaned closer. “Ohhh, so that’s what this is about,” she teased, as her hand shifted, her fingers gently squeezing Azzi’s side.

Azzi rolled her eyes but didn’t bother denying it. “Can you blame me?” she said as her gaze flickered over Paige’s face. “You’re just... impossible sometimes.”

Paige’s grin softened into something warmer as she leaned in, pressing a gentle kiss to Azzi’s lips. “I’ll take that as a compliment,” she murmured against her lips before pulling back, her hand still resting over Azzi’s stomach.

When Paige pulled back to look at her, Azzi’s eyes were dark, her robe slipping just enough to show the soft curve of her collarbone.

Paige smiled, her hand sliding along Azzi’s side but carefully avoiding her stomach. “You miss me, huh?” she teased as her thumb grazed the edge of Azzi’s robe.

Azzi didn’t bother hiding her impatience. “I miss you,” she repeated, her voice firmer now. Her fingers curling around Paige’s forearm, pulling her closer. “You. Not just your company.”

Paige raised an eyebrow at her, amusement flickering in her expression. “You’re cute,” she murmured, but there was no hesitance in her movements as adjusted herself, carefully balancing her weight so she hovered over Azzi without putting any pressure on her stomach.

Azzi’s hands were on her instantly, sliding up Paige’s arms, then into her damp hair. “Come here,” she whispered, and before Paige could respond, Azzi tugged her down into a kiss.

Paige had every intention of starting slow, to take her time, but Azzi had other plans. The kiss was urgent from the start, Azzi’s tongue sliding past Paige’s lips without hesitation, her fingers tangling in Paige’s hair to keep her close. Paige groaned softly, adjusting to Azzi’s pace immediately, her hand sliding down to grip Azzi’s hip. The sound of their breathing filled the room, mingling with the faint rustle of fabric as Paige’s towel began to loosen.

Azzi pulled back just enough to speak, her lips brushing against Paige’s as she murmured, “I don’t need foreplay.” Her voice was breathless, and when Paige pulled back to give her an incredulous look, Azzi’s cheeks flushed. “Please,” Azzi whispered, her tone almost desperate now. “I’ve been dealing with this for hours.”

Paige blinked at her, and then a soft chuckle escaped her lips. “Hours, hm?” she repeated, tilting her head.

Azzi groaned, her hands tightening in Paige’s hair in frustration. “Paige,” she said, her voice a low warning.

Paige hummed, her smirk softening into a smile as she leaned back down, her nose brushing against Azzi’s. “Okay, okay,” she murmured, pressing a soft kiss to the corner of Azzi’s mouth. “Whatever you want, baby.”

With that, Paige obliged, trailing her hand down Azzi’s body undoing her robe gently before finishing her journey and settling in between Azzi’s legs.

As she felt what was going on Paige’s chuckle was soft, and Azzi’s eyes snapped open, narrowing into a glare. “Shut up,” Azzi muttered, tugging lightly at Paige’s damp hair to make her point.

Paige only grinned wider, her lips twitching as she leaned in closer. “Mmm, don’t be embarrassed baby” she teased, slipping her fingers into Azzi easily as she tilted her head to kiss her.

Azzi sighed into the kiss at the feeling, her hands finding their way back into Paige’s hair, tugging her even closer. The kiss deepened quickly, and Paige hummed against Azzi’s lips, loving the warmth and the way her wife clung to her.

Breaking the kiss, Paige trailed her lips down Azzi’s jaw, her kisses soft but knowing exactly where they needed to go. She dipped lower, pressing her lips to the curve of Azzi’s collarbone before murmuring, “I love you, mama.”

Azzi sighed contentedly, her body relaxing against the pillows as she whispered back, “I love you too, baby.”

Paige smiled against her skin, the curve of her lips brushing Azzi’s chest as she moved to the spot just below her collarbone. When Paige nipped lightly at the sensitive area, Azzi let out a soft whimper, her fingers tightening in Paige’s hair to pull her closer.

“I’m not going to last long,” Azzi admitted, her voice breathy as her body reacted almost instantly to Paige’s touch.

Paige laughed, the sound vibrating against Azzi’s skin as she kissed the spot she’d just bitten. “I know, baby,” she murmured. “Something about this pregnancy, huh?”

Azzi groaned, her cheeks flushing embarrassed by how easily Paige unraveled her these days. “Don’t start,” she mumbled, but the way her body arched into Paige’s touch as she curled her fingers betrayed her words.

Paige lifted her head, her eyes meeting Azzi’s with a soft, adoring gaze. “I promise I’m not complaining,” she admitted. “You’re perfect like this, beautiful. I love every version of you.”

Azzi’s breath hitched at the sincerity in Paige’s words, and she reached up to cup her wife’s face, her thumb brushing over Paige’s cheek. “You’re too good to me,” she whispered, pulling her down into another kiss.

Paige hummed softly as she kissed Azzi deeply, her fingers moving exactly the way her wife needed. The way Azzi was arching into her had Paige biting back a smirk. But when Azzi’s hands slid down to grip her lower back, trying to pull her even closer, Paige paused, lifting her head slightly.

“Careful, pretty,” Paige murmured, brushing a stray strand of hair from Azzi’s face as she looked into her eyes.

Azzi’s breath hitched, her jaw clenching as her hands flexed against Paige’s back. Her eyes fluttered closed, and she whispered back, “I am being careful.”

Paige shook her head lightly, amusement flickering in her eyes as she leaned down to kiss Azzi’s jaw. “Mmm, no, you’re being impatient,” she teased as her fingers slowly worked.

Azzi exhaled sharply, gripping Paige tighter. “Can you blame me?” she said breathily, tilting her head back slightly as Paige’s lips wandered. “You’ve been driving me crazy since the moment you walked out of the bathroom.”

“Yeah?” Paige said softly, dragging her lips back up to Azzi’s ear. “Tell me how.”

Azzi groaned as she felt herself getting closer, her fingers tangling in Paige’s hair again. “You standing there with your towel, like you didn’t know exactly what you were doing—”

Paige chuckled, cutting her off with a gentle bite to her earlobe. “I wasn’t doing anything,” she whispered against her ear.

Azzi scoffed lightly, her voice breathy. “You exist, Paige. That’s the problem.”

Paige grinned against her skin, her kisses moving lower again. “I can’t help that, beautiful,” she murmured.

Azzi’s breathing quickened, her hands gripping Paige’s shoulders tighter as her body started to tense beneath her. A soft whimper escaped her lips, her head tilting back into the pillow. “Fuck I’m right there baby,” she whispered shakily, her voice trembling as her body reacted to Paige’s touch.

Paige smiled, leaning back up to brush her lips against Azzi’s ear. Her voice dropped to a soft whisper, speaking directly to the parts of Azzi she knew would unravel at her words. “That’s it, mama,” she murmured. “I can’t wait for you to give me kids baby.”

Azzi gasped, her back arching as her body melted into Paige’s. The combination of Paige’s words, her touch, and the overwhelming sensations rushing through her left her trembling. Paige kissed the side of her neck softly, her hand firm against her hip as she held Azzi in place.

“You’re everything to me,” Paige whispered, her lips brushing against Azzi’s jaw now. “You’re going to be the best mom, baby. I already know it. And I promise I’ll be right there with you every step of the way.”

Azzi’s nails dug into Paige’s shoulders, her body instinctively curling into her wife as a soft moan escaped her lips. Paige tilted her head up slightly, capturing Azzi’s lips in a kiss, their breaths mingling as Azzi came undone under Paige.

As Paige hovered over Azzi, she trailed slow, lingering kisses over her chest and neck, her lips barely grazing the heated skin as Azzi calmed herself down. Between each kiss, she murmured softly.

“I love you,” she whispered, pressing a kiss just below Azzi’s jaw. “You’re everything to me.”

Another kiss, slower this time, just above Azzi’s collarbone. “You’re so gorgeous… so perfect.”

Paige’s lips traced down to the center of Azzi’s chest as her fingers gently brushed over her sides. “I don’t tell you enough how much I appreciate you, how much I need you.”

She kissed just above Azzi’s heart, letting her lips linger as she whispered, “I don’t know what I did to deserve you, but I swear I’ll spend forever making sure you never doubt how much I love you baby.”

Azzi exhaled softly, her fingers threading into Paige’s damp hair, holding her close as Paige continued her slow worship.

After a long moment, Paige finally sat up, reaching for the towel at the edge of the bed, wiping her hand as she stood up. She moved to head toward the dresser to grab some boxers and a shirt. But as she turned, Azzi playfully reached out and smacked her butt.

Paige froze mid-step, narrowing her eyes as she turned to glare at Azzi, though the corners of her mouth twitched. “Really?”

Azzi smirked, leaning back against the headboard. “What? You walked away. That’s your fault.”

Paige rolled her eyes, shaking her head as she pulled on her boxers and shirt. “You’re a menace,” she mumbled.

Once dressed, she wandered back to the bed, crawling onto the mattress before settling herself between Azzi’s legs. She rested her head on Azzi’s thigh, her cheek pressed close to her stomach. Azzi let out a soft sigh, her hand going to Paige’s back, tracing slow patterns against the fabric of her shirt.

Paige hummed at the soothing motion, her eyes fluttering closed for a moment before opening again. She shifted slightly, tilting her head so she was closer to Azzi’s stomach. “Hey, little one,” she murmured.

Azzi smiled down at her, her fingers continuing their gentle path along Paige’s back.

“I don’t know if you can hear me yet, but just in case,” Paige said, her lips brushing against Azzi’s skin as she spoke, “you have the coolest mom ever. She’s strong, intelligent, and so kind. She’s a little bossy, but we let that slide because she’s also really pretty.”

Azzi laughed, her other hand reaching down to brush through Paige’s damp hair. “Bossy, huh?”

Paige grinned but didn’t look up. “You’re interrupting. I’m talking to my kid.”

Azzi rolled her eyes playfully but said nothing, letting Paige continue.

“I’m gonna make sure you get spoiled, but don’t tell her I said that. She says I have to say no to you sometimes,” Paige whispered conspiratorially, glancing up at Azzi with a smirk.

Paige shifted slightly, nuzzling closer to Azzi’s stomach as she continued to speak softly. “You’re going to be the best basketball player to ever walk the planet. No pressure, though, I promise,” she said with a smile.

Azzi raised an eyebrow. “What if she doesn’t want to play basketball?”

Paige scoffed, her head shifting up to look at Azzi. “What if she doesn’t want to play basketball?” she repeated incredulously, as if the thought was absurd. “You can’t have Paige Bueckers and Azzi Fudd as your moms and not play basketball. That’s illegal. Absolutely not. Non-negotiable.”

Azzi rolled her eyes but couldn’t hide her laugh. “You’re ridiculous. What if she wants to do, I don’t know, art? Or music?”

Paige flopped her head back down dramatically. “Fine. She can paint murals or compose symphonies—after she drops a sufficient stateline in a game.”

Azzi shook her head, laughing softly. “You’re crazy.”

Paige smirked but didn’t let up. “And while we’re at it, no dating until you’re 30 baby.”

Azzi snorted. “Thirty? That’s a little extreme, don’t you think?”

“Nope,” Paige said firmly, resting her chin on Azzi’s thigh to look up at her. “You know how people can be. You’ve seen the DMs. Nope. Not happening. She’ll thank me later.”

Azzi chuckled, shaking her head. “Oh, so you’re the strict mom now?”

“Duh,” Paige said, grinning. “Fun but strict. You can have whatever you want, little one. Whatever makes you happy—except dating.” She pressed a kiss to Azzi’s stomach. “And basketball is mandatory.”

Azzi rolled her eyes again, but the smile on her face was huge. “You’re really giving her all the rules already?”

Paige leaned up just slightly, her expression softening as she rubbed her thumb along Azzi’s stomach. “I’m gonna love you more than almost anything, you know that?”

Azzi tilted her head, her smile quirking up into a smirk. “Almost?”

Paige hummed, brushing her lips against Azzi’s stomach before looking up at her. “Mmm, you’ll always come first.”

Azzi raised an eyebrow. “Paige, you can’t put me before our child.”

“Yes, I can,” Paige replied firmly, her tone leaving no room for argument. “You’re my wife.”

Azzi let out a soft laugh, shaking her head. “And she’s going to be our child.”

Paige nuzzled against Azzi’s stomach, her voice dropping to a mumble as if she were sharing a secret with their unborn baby. “Statistics show children usually end up happier when their parents prioritize each other over anything because it creates a more stable environment for them.”

Azzi couldn’t help the laugh that came out of her. “Oh, really? And where’d you hear that?”

Paige glanced up with a small smirk. “I was reading on the plane. Wanted to make sure I got this parenting thing right.”

Azzi grinned down at her, shaking her head as her fingers gently tangled in Paige’s hair. “You’re so extra sometimes, you know that?”

Paige shrugged as she kissed Azzi’s stomach again. “Maybe, but you married me anyway. Which means you’re stuck with me—and my stable-environment parenting theories.”

Her gaze softened as she looked down at her wife, her heart full. “You’re gonna be such a great mom Paige” she said quietly.

Paige turned her head to look up at Azzi, her face lighting up with a smile. “Only because I have you.”

Azzi leaned down slowly, kissing Paige’s head. “We’ve got this.”

Paige nodded, resting her head back on Azzi’s thigh. “Yeah, we do.” They stayed like that for a while, wrapped in their quiet little moment, the world beyond their room fading into insignificance as Paige talked to Azzi’s stomach and Azzi started to read her book again.

…

It wasn’t until the middle of the night when something exciting happened again. Paige sound asleep, her body completely relaxed against Azzi’s. That was, until she felt her wife nudging her gently. Paige grumbled under her breath, pulling Azzi closer and burying her face in Azzi's chest.

“Baby,” Azzi whispered softly, her tone almost pleading.

Paige hummed, not bothering to lift her head. “Mmm?”

“I really really want some ice cream,” Azzi said.

Paige cracked one eye open, peeking up at Azzi through her lashes. When she saw the look on Azzi's face, she knew her wife wasn’t joking. “Ice cream tonight, hm?” she asked groggily, her voice laced with sleep.

Azzi nodded earnestly. “Mhm. I really want Cold Stone.”

Paige groaned softly, a half-laugh escaping her lips as she shifted onto her back. “You’re so lucky I love you,” she muttered, untangling herself from Azzi. She reached over to turn on the lamp, the soft glow illuminating her sleepy features as she blinked at the clock on her phone. 3:17 AM. Paige couldn’t help but laugh.

Azzi smiled up at her, unbothered by the time. “I don’t want it. Your daughter does,” she said with a grin.

“Righttt blame the other princess,” Paige said, shaking her head as she threw her legs over the side of the bed as she got up to put on some sweats and a hoodie.

Azzi watched her with a warm smile, her heart swelling as Paige pulled on her hoodie. When Paige came back to the bed to grab her phone, Azzi tugged lightly on the hem of her hoodie, pulling her down for a kiss.

Paige let herself melt into it for a moment, the warmth of Azzi’s lips erasing any lingering sleep. “I’ll be back,” she murmured softly as she straightened up.

“I love you, be safe please.” Azzi whispered, her fingers brushing Paige’s wrist as she let her go.

Paige smiled down at her, her expression filled with love. “I love you too, baby momma.”

Azzi rolled her eyes, but the chuckle that followed gave her away. “I am not a baby momma. I’m your wife.”

Paige grinned and shrugged, leaning down to kiss her one last time. Then, with a quiet laugh, she grabbed her keys and walked out of the room.

When Paige returned about 20 minutes later, ice cream in hand, she walked quietly up the stairs. As she entered the bedroom, she found Azzi sound asleep, her phone still loosely clutched in her hand. Paige noticed the screen was open to Life 360, showing her location the entire time.

Paige couldn’t help but laugh softly, shaking her head as she set the Cold Stone on the bedside table. Gently, she took Azzi’s phone from her hand, being careful not to wake her too abruptly.

Leaning down, Paige whispered close to her ear, “Baby, do you still want your ice cream?”

Azzi’s eyes fluttered open immediately at the mention, and she sat up almost on instinct, her drowsiness quickly giving way to excitement. “Mhm,” she mumbled.

Paige grinned, amused at her wife’s antics. “You were just knocked out two seconds ago,” she teased as she slid onto the bed next to her.

Azzi ignored the comment, leaning back against Paige’s chest as she got comfortable on her side. “Can you feed me?” she asked softly, tilting her head up to look at Paige with a small smile.

Paige rolled her eyes but couldn’t hide the warmth in her expression. “You’re really milking this pregnancy thing, huh?” she teased, grabbing the ice cream and spoon from the table.

Azzi smirked, resting her hands on Paige’s thighs as Paige opened the spoon. “You offered to go get it, didn’t you?”

“Yeah, yeah,” Paige muttered, scooping some ice cream and holding the spoon to Azzi’s lips.

Azzi hummed happily as she took the bite, leaning further into Paige. “You’re the best wife ever,” she murmured, savoring the sweet treat.

Paige smirked, kissing the top of Azzi’s head. “I know. You’re lucky I love you... and your crazy 3 a.m. cravings.”

Azzi giggled, tilting her head back to glance up at Paige. “Our daughter appreciates it, too.”

Paige laughed again, shaking her head as she scooped another spoonful of ice cream. “Well, you two better remember this when she’s waking us up at 3 a.m. for something someday.”

Azzi smirked. “We both know you’re going to get up.”

Paige narrowed her eyes playfully, holding the spoon to Azzi’s lips. “No, I’m not.”

Azzi, opening her mouth for the spoonful of ice cream before looking up at Paige with a gleam in her eye. “Yes you are. You’re whipped.”

Paige raised an eyebrow, trying to act nonchalant. “No, I’m not.”

Azzi didn’t say anything more, just gave her a look.

Paige sighed dramatically, shaking her head. “I’m not whipped.”

Azzi just tilted her head, the smirk never leaving her face. “Uh-huh. Sure.”

Paige rolled her eyes, leaning back against the headboard.

Azzi chuckled softly before continuing. “We both know you’re going to get up for her when she’s up at 3 a.m., so don’t act like you’re not.”

Paige shot her a mock glare. “No, the hell I’m not. It’ll be your turn.”

Azzi just raised an eyebrow, her silent threat clear in the air.

Paige sighed again, shaking her head as she gave Azzi another spoonful of ice cream. “Fine. I’m whipped. I’ll get up in the middle of the night for our daughter. Happy now?”

Azzi grinned, satisfied with the unspoken victory giving her a soft kiss on the cheek. “Very.

The two of them stayed like that, Paige feeding Azzi spoonfuls of ice cream between quiet laughter and sleepy murmurs. But after a few minutes, Paige noticed Azzi hadn’t opened her mouth for the next bite. She glanced down and smiled, seeing her wife fast asleep.

Paige let out a quiet chuckle, carefully placing the ice cream and spoon on the bedside table before turning off the light. Slowly, she adjusted herself a little lower, mindful not to disturb Azzi, though she didn’t shift too much—Azzi was still laying sideways between her legs, using her as a pillow.

Paige exhaled as tiredness immediately hit her. She was a little uncomfortable at not being able to lay down fully but she didn’t care in the slightest. If this was what Azzi needed to sleep peacefully, she’d stay just like this all night. Her hand found its way to Azzi’s stomach, her thumb tracing slow circles as her eyes fluttered shut.

#pazzi #paige x azzi #pazzi fics

316 notes · View notes

archiverstappen · 1 year ago

Text

the cat sitter (part 15) ✧ max verstappen

max verstappen x fem! reader

previous part | masterlist

loosely inspired by the story on how max lost his cat

[twitter]

[instagram]

[messages]

[twitter]

[max’s messages]

[messages]

[instagram]

maxverstappen1

liked by charles_leclerc and 2.827.515 others

maxverstappen1 🐈

view all 1.736 comments

landonorris Never beating the crazy cat lady allegations

danielricciardo 😍

yourusername i miss you ed, edd, and eddy. gone... but never forgotten 😿

↳ maxverstappen1 you named them?

↳ yourusername yes? 🤷‍♀️

username i dont care guys this is enough sign for me, it’s canon

username please tell me that she at least kept one of those cats

↳ yourusername maximus won’t let me keep them 💔

↳ maxverstappen1 Pretty sure that’s illegal 🤗

bffusername so is this the reason why you always take so long on your dates? because y/n can’t resist touching every single cat on the streets? [deleted]

bffusername cool pics! 😁👍

↳ yourusername ouH GIRL WHEN I CATCH YOU

↳ username PLEASE TELL ME THAT I WAS NOT THE ONLY ONE WHO SAW THE DELETED COMMENT 😭

username don’t know about you guys but the hand on her head awakened something feral in me

[twitter]

[interview]

[twitter]

[instagram]

yourusername

liked maxverstappen1 and 231 others

yourusername these are a few of my favorite things 🫧 🤍 🎶

view all 42 comments

landonorris He got game after all

↳ yourusername unlike you

↳ landonorris OUCH??

↳ maxverstappen1 😂

maxverstappen1 Lovely 🤍

bffusername this cake looks way better than maximus' birthday cake, progress!! 💪🏼

↳ yourusername 😎

bffusername now i'm curious, what did you say during mario kart? 🤔

↳ maxverstappen1 A lot of curse words

victoriaverstappen Enjoy your holiday guys, see you soon! 🧡

↳ yourusername MAX AND I WANT TO BABYSIT LUKA AND LIO AGAIN!!

↳ maxverstappen1 Y/N......

maxverstappen1

liked by yourusername and 2.103.273 others

maxverstappen1 More passion, more energy ❄️

view all 7.322 comments

yourusername i kinda hate you right now ngl

↳ maxverstappen1 She's so brave, she's well behaved, she's not afraid 💪🏼

↳ yourusername HUSH

yourusername delete??? or i'll post a video of you dancing to 'paint the town red'??

↳ maxverstappen1 YOU WOULDN'T DARE

↳ yourusername I SAID WHAT I SAID 👹

↳ username y/n i would give you my cat if i could see a video of max doing a tiktok trend 🧎‍♀️

↳ yourusername check your dm please xoxoxoxo

yourusername MORE FOOTWORK MORE FOOTWORK 🕺🏽

charles_leclerc 😂

alex_albon Fucking finally 😮‍💨

landonorris I called dibs on being captain of the ship

↳ bffusername hi there, sorry to bother you. y/n's bff here. that position is already taken 🙏

↳ username speak uP? danielricciardo

↳ danielricciardo I don't engage in useless banter, I already have the position of being the godfather of their future child 😁

↳ landonorris exPLAIN??? maxverstappen1 yourusername

username the fact that this post has better engagement than max's wdc post i-

username now we know how max knew all of the viral tiktok sounds 😭

↳ yourusername we're planning to make a tiktok couple account

↳ username ?!??!?!??!?!??! ARE YOU FOR REAL

↳ yourusername please don't take it seriously, I WAS JOKING 😁🙏

author's notes: eden the scammer is back after 2 months guys, so sorry for making you guys wait too long (and giving you guys false hope) 👹 really hope you guys liked this one hehe, i also take additional request for tcs!! (but as you probably know, it's gonna take me 8273 years to finally post it). there are some references from my lando series in this part, so if you're interested you can also check it out 😙 LOVE YOUUUWWW, now i will hibernate for another 5 months 🤸‍♀️

taglist: @flwr-stella @reidsworld @myloverjk-blog @debss-319 @hiraethrhapsody @electrobutterfly @love4lando @lunnnix @allenajade-ite @jjsprobablywrong @whoreks @soleilgrec @oscarwildingsworld @christianpulisic10 @thievin-stealing @glitterf1 @elliegrey2803 @trouble-sistar @escapism-writer @cornerofacry @hollie911 @weasleyswizarding-wheezes @ad-astra-again @canyon-lwt @thecubanator2 @lifesuckslife @leclercloml @sunny44 @nmw-am @sachaa-ff @multilovebot @glow-ish @moneygramhaas @whitefireproofs @icarus-nex @iloveyou3000morgan @ccallistata @copper-boom @fictionalcharacterslut @celesteblack08 @maxiel-jpg @slytherheign @lunyyx @series-books-food @coffeehurricanes @shrimpyshrimp @somanyfandomsbruh @justcallmeelli @laneyspaulding19 @ironmaiden1313

pictures (c) to pinterest

#max verstappen #formula 1 #f1 #max verstappen x reader #max verstappen x y/n #max verstappen x you #max verstappen imagine #max verstappen fanfic #max verstappen smau #f1 x reader #f1 x y/n #f1 x you #f1 fanfic #f1 imagine #f1 smau #archiverstappen

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fastandcarlos · 8 months ago

Text

Vamos Madrid : ̗̀➛ Carlos Sainz

summary: as the newest signing for real madrid, you can't help but capture the attention of a certain spanish driver

˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊

liked by olgacarmona7, realmadridfem and 349,706 others

ynusername: such a proud day to sign for this incredible club…hala madrid 🤍⚽️

48,103 comments

username1: ahh i can't believe this finally happened for you!!!! 🤩

chelseafcwomen: thank you for all that you've done for our great club, wishing you all the best for the future yn!

username2: can't wait to support you on this new chapter yn 🎉

elliecarpenterr: at least i'll finally get some rest from you constantly messaging me about this now

ynusername: @/elliecarpenterr thanks for being my agony aunt over the past few weeks

username3: i hope real madrid know what they're in for with a talent like you 😂

carolineweir95: your spanish tour guide is at your service 🫡

ynusername: @/carolineweir95 cannot wait for a thousand and one coffee dates with you

username4: i've never been happier to see a post from you omg

realmadridfem: welcome yn! we can't wait to have you as part of the team 🤍

username5: officially now real madrid's number one fan btw

mackenziearnold: imma miss just being able to drive up the road to see you 😭

username6: at least you won't have to deal with the british weather anymore

˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊

liked by landonorris, georgerussell63 and 1,604,394 others

carlossainz55: thanks to real madrid for hosting me this evening, had a great time cheering the women on ☺️🤍

284,640 comments

username7: we love a man who gets behind the womens team as much as the mens 🤩

landonorris: it still disgusts me that of all the teams you support real madrid 🙄

carlossainz55: @/landonorris i refuse to take abuse from a fake fan like you!!

username8: i can't believe carlos was in the same stadium as yn tonight

username9: hala madrid ⚽️

georgerussell63: one day i'll introduce you to a team that's actually good at football

username10: hope you had the best time and got to meet lots of the players

schecoperez: could they find you a tighter top to wear??? 😂😂😂

carlossainz55: @/schecoperez gotta show off the physique somehow

username11: i was just thinking how long it's been since we had madrid content from carlos

charles_leclerc: now that you've posted can you stop talking about that footballer that you met please??

username12: wait carlos met one of the players...who? when? why? omg i've got so many questions 🤔

username13: carlos sainz we need all the gossip asap

lewishamilton: so that's why you refused to come out for food with me tonight 🙄

olgacarmona7: on behalf of the team, thank you for all of your support tonight

ynusername: thanks for the photo...

˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊

liked by charles_leclerc, samanthakerr20 and 493,607 others

ynusername: off season at last 🌴✅

39,102 comments

signebruun20: can we all just take a moment to appreciate how stunning you are

username14: it's unfair for one person to look this good 😓

samanthakerr20: lock up your wardrobe next time i see you otherwise it's all mine

ynusername: @/samanthakerr20 just gonna screenshot for the prosecution

username15: are we all just going to pretend that we don't see that middle photo?? 😅

username16: i can't believe yn might finally have a boyfriend

linda_caicedo11: off season looks pretty good on you 💕

username17: you can't just post something like that and not say anything else yn omg

caitlinfoord: idc about timezones pick up the damn phone now woman 😂😂

username18: anyone else feel like that hand looks suspiciously familiar?

evanavarro12: so you go on holiday with someone and don't even tell me about it first. rude. 💔

username19: yn i'm not willing to play this soft launch game i swear-

stephcatley: did you move to madrid for the football or the men btw??

username20: charles in the likes too...makes me wonder

˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊

liked by lewishamilton, pierregasly and 1,492,705 others

carlossainz55: turns out I’ve still got it ⚽️💪🏻

189,584 comments

username21: footballer carlos is a vibe that i didn't know i needed in my life 🥺

landonorris: all the gear and no idea 😂

carlossainz55: @/landonorris are you asking for me to block you or something??

username22: oh to play football with THE carlos sainz...

alex_albon: one day when i imagine myself being a footballer, i want to look like you

username23: jw is there anything that this man can't do??? ☺️

lancestroll: i need the secrets for that hair asap my friend

pierregasly: i thought the spanish were supposed to be good at football 🤔

username24: why is this man suddenly obsessed with football once again

lewishamilton: bets you managed a total of 10 keepie uppies before dropping it

carlossainz55: @/lewishamilton it was 11 i'll have you know 😂

username25: the hair. the shirt. the concentration. i cannot cope.

maxverstappen1: i really hope this isn't you trying to play it cool

ynusername: if you want some pro tips you know where i am

carlossainz55: @/ynusername might just take you up on that offer

username26: omg first date when?? ❤️❤️❤️❤️

˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊

liked by charles_leclerc, carlossainz55 and 329,607 others

ynusername: turns out red suits me just as well as white does ❤️🏎️

59,293 comments

username27: stfu i can't believe this is happening 🫢🫢🫢

georgerussell63: come and test out the white at mercedes instead 😂

caitlinfoord: what is happening to you right now, how’ve you managed to get to go to the f1 for free 😬

username28: someone pinch me, is this really yn in the ferrari garage

charles_leclerc: hope you enjoyed your weekend with us!!

ynusername: @/charles_leclerc it was the best time tysm 🫶🏻

username29: anyone else praying that these photos mean what we want them to mean?

samanthakerr20: and you just conveniently forgot the invite for your best friend…I see how it is

username30: i'd argue that red suits you so much better btw 🤩🤩

carlossainz55: we loved having you with us, dare I say you’re an f1 fan now??

ynusername: @/carlossainz55 you might’ve just convinced me 🥺

username31: red suits you more than white suits carlos hahah

username32: not yn tryna get in on the soft launch game too

maxverstappen1: btw carlos did not stop talking about the fact that you were here with us all weekend…

carlossainz55: @/maxverstappen1 shut your face now!!!

landonorris: wtf you were supposed to come and visit me before going to those losers

ynusername: @/landonorris guess I just got a better offer 🤷🏻‍♀️

username33: i refuse to let these two tease us about a potential relationship for much longer

˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊

liked by landonorris, ynusername and 3,504,102 others

carlossainz55: all warmed up and just waiting for the call if you need me @/realmadridfem

181,658 comments

username34: notice how he tags the womens team instead of the men?? 🤔

charles_leclerc: can guarantee you would end up pulling your hamstring after the first five minutes my friend

username35: yn and carlos in central midfield is a dream team waiting to happen

ynusername: there’s a nice spot on the subs bench with your name on it!

carlossainz55: @/ynusername hey im starting 11 material surely 😓

username36: i saw carlos at the game today, he went crazy whenever yn got the ball 💞💞

landonorris: I’d pay a lot of money to see you try and play football with the professionals 😂

carlossainz55: @/landonorris why do you bully me all the time?? 🤦🏻‍♂️

username37: he definitely went to be cheerleader for yn rather than the whole team

alex_albon: how many takes before you were happy with that photo???

username38: I love how much they support each other it’s adorable 😭

danielricciardo: you look like the worst fifabot in the world 😂

username39: now this is a couple I can see seriously get behind!! 💕

username40: is it okay to already be obsessed with these two even though we don’t know they’re acc together yet?? 🤔🤔

˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊

liked by matildas, carlossainz55 and 492,192 others

ynusername: 50 caps for this great country, it’s always the biggest honour 💚💛

49,281 comments

username41: what would the national team do without you?? 🤔

carlossainz55: congratulations, such an incredible achievement ❤️

ynusername: @/carlossainz55 tysm for flying out and cheering me on ❤️

username42: won't be long before you get to 100 caps yk

username43: we're so proud of you yn!! congratulations!! 👏🏻

samanthakerr20: so proud to stand right by your side tonight and watch you reach this milestone

username44: was it ever in doubt? the best to ever do it 🥺🥺

charles_leclerc: that was awesome to watch…I hate how you’re turning me into a football fan 😂

ynusername: @/charles_leclerc told you I’d change your mind!!

username45: the matildas are the luckiest team in the world to have you

caitlinfoord: if i had it my way you'd have thousands of caps by now

ynusername: @/caitlinfoord not really sure that's how football works 😂

username46: i could sit and watch you play football forever

mackenziearnold: best. team. mate. ever.

username47: thank you for being such an amazing part of the team, we'd be lost without you in that midfield

matildas: congratulations yn, heres to the next 50 💚💛

˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊

liked by danielricciardo, maxverstappen1 and 3,694,702 others

carlossainz55: a well deserved break for the both of us ☀️💕🌴

283,102 comments

username48: this is everything that i've ever wanted to see and more

alex_albon: still offended that you didn’t invite me on this trip 😭

username49: i cannot begin to tell you how happy i am for you both 🤯🤯

stephcatley: omg i could not be happier to see you two together

ynusername: thank you for such an amazing trip, you're the best 💕💕

carlossainz55: @/ynusername you deserve the world and more

username50: now please continue to spam us with adorable pics

alexandrasaintmleux: so pleased to see you guys had such a good time 🎉🌴

username51: thank you for bringing the soft launch to an end, welcome hard launch!!

landonorris: shall i vacate the role of boyfriend now or later??

carlossainz55: @/landonorris i'll show you the door 🚪

username52: a match made in heaven if you ask me

username53: i'm not even in this relationship and i feel emotional

charles_leclerc: thank goodness, don't think i could keep the secret for much longer 😅

username54: everyone say thank you real madrid for introducing these two to one another 🤍⚽️

˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊

liked by carlossainz55, elliecarpenterr and 593,604 others

ynusername: three of my favourite things, football, boyfriend and all the coffee ⚽️❤️☕️

59,201 comments

username55: yn it's not fair of you to melt my heart like this 😭

oscarpiastri: now the coffee I can get behind ☕️

landonorris: you’re forgetting the part where you mention your boyfriend’s best friend???

username56: look at their faces, they look so in love together!!

caitlinfoord: can you stop being so annoyingly cute please and thank you

carlossainz55: i better be number one out of those three things 🥺

ynusername: @/carlossainz55 the top spot is yours forever 🫶🏻❤️

username57: you'll find me in the corner crying absolute tears of joy

danielricciardo: well this is a bit cute isn’t it 🤩🤩

username58: officially now my favourite couple in the whole entire world 🌍

username59: i don't think i'll ever see enough posts from these two

charles_leclerc: presuming from this that football tops carlos 🤭

username60: cannot wait to see these guys spend the rest of their lives together ngl 💞💞💞

maxverstappen1: btw carlos does not shut up about you 😂😂

˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊

˗ˏˋ 𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓 ! ´ˎ˗

456 notes · View notes

plasticflowersinahistorycemetery · 18 days ago

Text

exhibitionism

part I

Pairing: SugarDaddy!Ben x Fem!Reader

Summary: While out on a Friday night with your friends, you're struggling to pay for your second drink of the night. You are about to send it back when a stranger steps in to pay for your beverage. And really, what's the price of a drink?

Warnings: 18+!, Ben once again being his own warning, age gap, language, misogyny, drug consumption, smut (kissing, biting, marking, slapping, dirty talk, clitoral stimulation, overstim, forced orgasms, fingering, handjob, cunnilingus/oral, p in v, cum on face, throttling, rough sex, semi-public sex), mind games, manipulation, degradation, power imbalance, I may have missed some. (There's a bunch in this one, agh!)

Word Count: 7,109

A/N: Part one is just setting the tone, besties. I needed to build the atmosphere slowly because the next few parts of this? Unhinged. Truly. You can probably tell from the title that this one? Gonna be a different breed to the other works I've done. Obviously it's an AU, Ben isn't Soldier Boy here, but some (exceptionally) wealthy prick. And—good god—he's about to be the most controlling I've ever written him. I'm so beyond excited for the next few instalments of this one. I hope y'all are too. <3 Feel free to give me feedback, tell me if you're looking forward to the next part, tell me what you think. My gross little heart loves it. And yes, this is part one... so you know the drill: if the warnings listed above aren't evident yet, they will be. All the love.

Without further ado: EXHIBITIONISM

Power is not taken. It is given.

A glance across the bar. A drink set down without a word. A hand at the small of your back, guiding you somewhere you don’t belong.

It starts small—a single indulgence, a breathless yes.

Then, suddenly, you are on display. Draped over his lap, diamonds at your throat, whiskey on your lips. A possession. A prize. A thing to be seen.

Because men like him do not love. They own.

New York made you tough fast. It had to.

You’d come here alone, chasing a future that didn’t come with a safety net. No trust fund. No monthly deposits from a parent who still called to check in. No handouts, no home-cooked meals waiting for you in a house you no longer belonged to. You’d left it all behind—the family who told you it was them or college, the life you could’ve had if you’d just been what they wanted.

But you chose yourself.

And now? You were paying for it.

Rent was due in five days. You had barely scraped together enough, and there were still textbooks to buy, bills to pay, groceries to figure out. Your job—some soul-sucking gig that barely covered the essentials—kept you too exhausted to focus on anything else. But tonight, for the first time in weeks, you’d let your friends drag you out, promising yourself you’d try to have fun.

They didn’t understand, not really.

They weren’t cruel, just privileged. All born into wealth, raised in big houses, given credit cards they never had to check the balance on. You liked them—loved them, even—but you’d stopped trying to make them understand what it felt like to have nothing.

So you smiled, let them buy overpriced cocktails, laughed at their meaningless complaints, and sipped your one, carefully nursed vodka soda.

The rooftop bar was packed, warm from the heat of too many bodies, the glow of the city stretching out behind it. Your friends were already tipsy, ordering another round while you debated whether or not you could justify one more drink.

You couldn’t.

But for one night, you wanted to feel normal.

You followed one of them to the bar. She ordered some expensive, ridiculous thing—probably something with elderflower and gold flakes.

"Just put it on your tab, babe."

You laughed, shaking your head. "I’ll get my own. I’ll meet you back at the table."

She shrugged, flounced off, and you turned toward the bartender, already digging through your purse.

That was your first mistake.

The second was realising too late that you didn’t have enough.

Shit.

Your stomach sank as you counted out the crumpled bills, the few lonely coins at the bottom of your clutch. You pushed the drink back across the bar, heat prickling up your neck. Elbows on the counter, you pressed your face into your hands, forcing slow, steady breaths.

You could handle this. It wasn’t a big deal. You’d just… go back, tell them you weren’t drinking anymore.

And then—

"How much you need, sweetheart?"

The voice came from behind you.

Rough, low. Amused.

You froze. Shook your head, already mumbling, "No, it’s okay. Really, I—"

And then you looked up.

And fuck.

He was standing right there. Tall, broad, menacingly gorgeous.

A dress shirt stretched across his chest, sleeves rolled up just enough to reveal the flex of his forearms. Dark, expensive-looking pants. A thick watch on his wrist. Clean, manicured beard, hair swept back, and green eyes that looked like they could see straight through you.

He looked like a million fucking dollars.

And he was looking right at you.

"Tough night, sweetheart?"

His voice curled around you like smoke—low, deep, amused.

You barely had time to process it before he stepped forward, before he was in your space, before he was there like he'd been waiting for this moment all night.

You turned your head just as he slid into the empty spot beside you, just as the bartender reached for the drink you'd pushed away—ready to pour it down the drain.

And then he clicked his tongue. Just once. A sharp, quiet sound, and the bartender froze. Then nodded. Like that single fucking noise was enough to halt the whole goddamn world.

"Another," the man said, fingers tapping once against the polished wood of the bar, easy and sure. He had a voice like a slow drag of whiskey, rich and rough-edged, as he lifted his chin toward the bartender. "And get her extra lemon in both."

No hesitation. No questions. Just a quiet nod as the bartender went to work.

You swallowed, pulse kicking against your ribs, the air between you thick and electric.

Who the fuck was this guy?

"You didn’t have to do that," you said, voice steadier than you expected, even as heat burned up your throat. "I can’t afford to pay you back."

That got his attention.

Slowly, his gaze dragged back to you, head tilting slightly, like he was deciding whether or not your words deserved a response at all.

Then, finally—finally—he smirked.

"Wasn’t offerin' so you’d pay me back, sweetheart."

You exhaled sharply, something tight winding in your chest.

His eyes dropped for a fraction of a second—your mouth, your throat, the rise and fall of your breath—before flicking lazily toward the empty stool beside you. Then back to you.

He didn’t speak, just lifted an eyebrow. A question. An expectation.

You glanced at the seat, pulse hammering. Something told you that this—right here, right now—was the moment. The choice. The one that would set everything else in motion. Your fingers curled around the cool glass, and with a slow, careful nod, you gestured to the seat.

Permission.

His mouth curled at the corner, something smug, something victorious, and he sank onto the stool. And then he leaned in. Just enough to tilt his face toward you, just enough for his scent—woodsmoke, leather, something dark, something rich—to curl into your lungs.

"Ben," he said. Just that. A name, simple and short. A gift, or a warning. "And you are?"

You hesitated, lifting the drink to your lips, tongue flicking over the extra lemon wedge as you took a slow sip. His eyes followed the movement.

You told him your name.

He repeated it, like he was testing it, rolling it over his tongue just to see how it tasted. Then—

"So," he murmured, the word slow, deliberate. "What’s your story?"

A question with no right answer.

You exhaled softly. "Not much to tell. Just… out with my friends."

Ben made a quiet, thoughtful sound, lifting his glass to his lips—but he wasn’t looking at you anymore. He was looking at them.

Your friends, back at the table, ordering another round without even noticing you were gone. All glossy lips, designer bags, endless money, the kind of girls who would never, ever have to count crumpled bills and loose change just to afford a drink.

You felt the weight of his gaze shift back to you before you even turned your head. And when you finally looked up, he was already smirking.

"Yeah." His voice was slow, edged with something sharp. "See, I don’t think you are."

A pause.

"One of them."

The words cut straight through you, precise and exact, slipping beneath your skin like a blade between ribs.

Because fuck—he was right.

You let out a soft, self-deprecating laugh, shaking your head before taking another slow sip of your drink.

"Yeah," you admitted, rolling the condensation-slick glass between your fingers. "You’re right. I’m not one of them."

Ben didn’t look particularly surprised. He just hummed—low, deep, expectant. Waiting.

And for some reason, you gave him more.

"They’re comfortable," you murmured, staring down into your drink, watching the ice melt. "They don’t have to worry about money. College is just a fun, cute idea to them. Something to pass the time before they go off and do whatever rich girls do when they get bored." You swallowed, the truth suddenly sitting heavy on your tongue. "They’re all pretty. They dress nice. They never have to worry about whether or not they’ve got enough crumpled bills in their purse to pay for a measly vodka soda."

Silence stretched between you.

Then—a sharp tut. Ben clicked his tongue, shaking his head like you’d just said something ridiculous.

"They’re not that pretty."

Your brows furrowed. You glanced at him, confused. "What do you mean?"

But he didn’t answer. Not right away. No—first, he looked.

And fuck.

His gaze dragged over you in one slow, unapologetic pass, starting at your legs, bare where they crossed beneath the bar, lingering just a little too long at the hem of your dress. His expression didn’t change, but you felt it when his eyes darkened, when they lingered on the soft, subtle curves of your body, when his gaze flicked up, finally—finally—to your face.

And then he smirked.

"Yeah, they’re pretty," he admitted, his voice a lazy drawl, like he was indulging the thought just for the hell of it.

Then his eyes locked onto yours.

"But you?" He leaned in, forearms braced on the bar, and his next words were just for you—low, rough, dangerous. "You’re a fuckin' knockout, sweetheart."

A flush crawled up your throat, warm and insidious, and you were so goddamn grateful for the dim lighting because what the fuck.

You weren’t used to this. Not the attention. Not like this. Not from a man.

Not from someone who looked like that—who looked like he had at least fifteen years on you, who carried himself like he had twice as much experience, who was looking at you like you were something worth his time, worth his attention, worth every second he was spending sitting here, watching you squirm.

Your breath caught. You took another sip of your drink, hoping like hell it would cool the heat spreading through your veins.

But his eyes? They told you—you weren’t getting off that easy.

Because Ben didn’t stop looking at you.

If anything, his attention sharpened. Every time you wet your lips, every slow sip of your drink, every flick of your tongue against the rim of the glass—he tracked it, eyes dark and unreadable.

He wasn’t subtle about it. Didn’t even fucking try to be. And worse? You could feel it.

Feel his gaze pressing into you, lingering on your mouth, dipping to your throat every time you swallowed, flicking back to your face just to catch the way heat bloomed beneath your skin.

He knew. He fucking knew. But when he spoke again, his voice was easy, casual—like he hadn’t just been devouring you with his eyes.

"What are you studyin'?"

You blinked, exhaling a breath you hadn’t realised you were holding.

"Literature and Language," you answered, trying to sound normal, trying to ignore the way your stomach flipped when his gaze lingered just a second longer than necessary before he nodded.

"Huh." A slow, thoughtful sound. "Why those?"

Your fingers curled around your drink, rolling it between your palms. "I love words."

That made him smirk, like you’d just said something that amused him.

"Yeah?"

"Yeah," you murmured, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear, feeling almost shy under the weight of his gaze. "I want to write. I don’t really care what. Just… something."

Ben nodded, tapping his fingers idly against the bar.

"You on campus?" He asked. "Or you got your own place?"

You hesitated. Not because you didn’t want to answer. But because you weren’t sure why you felt so fucking compelled to tell him the truth.

His voice wasn’t demanding. He wasn’t prying. But something about him—about the way he looked at you, the way he asked, slow and expectant—made it impossible to brush him off.

You parted your lips to answer, but—

"Hey!"

Your name, bright and teasing, cut through the moment.

You turned to see one of your friends making her way over, heels clicking against the polished floor, eyes flicking between you and Ben with obvious curiosity.

He didn’t look at her. Not once. Even as she stopped beside you, even as she smirked and let her gaze drag over him, assessing, intrigued—Ben didn’t fucking blink.

His focus was still on you.

"We’re heading to another club," your friend announced, raising an eyebrow. Waiting. Watching. "You coming?"

And you—God help you—you were about to say no. You were about to say I want to stay. But before the words could even form—

"She’s good," Ben said smoothly.

Your friend blinked, startled, before her eyes snapped back to him.

"We’re having a nice conversation," he continued, voice easy, unreadable. Final. "Don’t worry about her. I’ll make sure she gets home safe."

You didn’t move. Didn’t breathe. But your friend? She just grinned, because of course she fucking did.

"See ya later, babe!" She sang, giving you a knowing look before turning back toward your table. Back toward the others, who were already watching. Already smirking, like hungry fucking wolves.

Then your friends were gone, and the bar felt quieter, smaller without them. But Ben? He was still here. Still right beside you, still watching. Still holding all of your attention hostage.

He tapped his glass against the wood once, slow and thoughtful. Then—

"You want somethin' different?"

You blinked, shifting slightly in your seat. "I’m okay."

Ben made a noise in the back of his throat, something between a hum and a scoff, before waving a hand, cutting you off before you could say anything else.

"Didn’t ask if you’re okay, sweetheart." His voice was smooth, lazy, but edged with something sharper. "Asked if you want somethin' different to drink."

Your lips parted, but you hesitated.

Ben didn’t.

"I’m gettin’ another whiskey," he said easily, before his gaze dragged over you again—slow, indulgent, knowing. His smirk deepened. "I can get you one of those fruity little drinks if you want."

You frowned, shaking your head. "I don’t choose those for a reason."

His eyebrows ticked up, but he didn’t interrupt.

"I like alcohol to taste like alcohol," you murmured, running your finger along the rim of your glass.

And that? That earned you something new. A slow, low whistle. Ben grinned, sharp and approving.

"Atta fuckin’ girl."

Your stomach flipped, heat curling somewhere low and slow.

"Here," he said suddenly, reaching for his drink. "Try mine. See if you want that."

You barely had time to react before he pressed the glass into your hands, fingers brushing against yours, firm and deliberate. You weren’t sure why, but your breath hitched.

Not because of the whiskey. Because of him. Because of the way his pupils visibly darkened as you hesitated, as you lifted the glass, as your tongue flicked against the rim of the glass—

The same place he’d been drinking from.

Your lips parted around the sip, slow and small, the liquid burning warm and smooth down your throat. You shut your eyes, exhaling softly.

"Fuck," you murmured, sighing just a little.

You didn’t even have to look. You already knew. But when your lashes fluttered open again, Ben was already watching you, one brow cocked, a knowing little challenge hanging in the air between you.

You swallowed, ignored the heat spreading across your skin, and shrugged.

"It’s nice," you said lightly, reaching to slide the glass back to him. "But I don’t want you to spend any more money on me."

Ben scoffed, like the idea of money was a joke.

"Chump change, sweetheart."

Then, without another word, he whistled for the bartender, tapped his glass against the counter, and lifted two fingers in the air.

A silent command.

Seconds later, two fresh glasses of whiskey slid across the bar toward you. Your throat felt tight. You exhaled, a small breath of laughter slipping free before you even realised it.

"You’re a little young to have such a refined palate."

You huffed, rolling your eyes, before saying, "I used to steal sips of my dad’s whiskey when I was little." You paused, eyes flicking down to your glass, swirling the amber liquid absently. "I’ve always liked the burn."

Ben went still.

Just for a second. But it was enough. Enough to notice the way his nostrils flared, the way his fingers tightened around his glass, the way his gaze dropped back to your mouth like he was suddenly thinking about something else.

And then—

"Come with me."

His voice was low, thick with something weighted, something hot.

You blinked. "Where?"

Ben tipped his glass toward the entrance, toward the doors leading outside to the private rooftop patio.

"Need a smoke." A pause. "You should come."

He didn’t ask. Not really.

It was a suggestion. A promise. A fucking test.

And you? You took your glass and followed.

Ben held the door open with his foot, one arm braced against the frame, the other pressing lightly against the small of your back as he guided you outside.

The touch—warm, firm, easy—made you shiver.

His hand didn’t move. Didn’t slide away, didn’t lift, didn’t hesitate as he steered you toward the back of the rooftop patio—away from the clusters of people near the entrance, away from the noise and the neon city glow.

He led you to a hidden corner, tucked behind hanging plants and low-lit lanterns, a secluded little alcove that smelled like whiskey and leather and cigarette smoke. A place that felt expensive. Exclusive. Like somewhere you didn’t belong.

Ben sat, sprawling out across an outdoor sofa, legs spread wide, exhaling slow as he placed his whiskey down on the table. Then he stretched, arms draped over the back of the couch, rolling his shoulders with a satisfied hum before tilting his chin up at you.

"You gonna stand there all night?" He drawled. "Or you gonna come sit down?"

Your breath hitched. You slid your drink down next to his, then hesitated. Ben smirked. Then he patted his thigh.

Patted. His. Thigh.

"C’mon, sweetheart." His voice was low, teasing, wicked as sin. "I don’t bite."

Something thick and molten curled in your stomach, pooling warm at the base of your spine. And you didn’t know why—why the hell you actually listened, why you obeyed like it was the most natural thing in the world—

But you did. You perched yourself in his lap, delicate and careful, settling neatly on his thigh, just like he told you to.

His hand smoothed over your back, slow and deliberate, before wrapping around your waist and pulling you in closer, settling you against him as he sank deeper into the couch.

His warmth seeped through you instantly.

You hadn’t realised how cold it had gotten—the sharp chill of the evening settling deep in your bones, biting at your skin, leaving you barely covered in the slinky black dress.

But now? Now you were wrapped in his heat.

He reached into his pocket, fishing out a pack of cigarettes, fingers working slow as he tapped one loose. You watched as he flicked open his lighter, gold flame illuminating his face, sharp and stunning in the low light.

He took a long drag, exhaling thick ribbons of smoke into the air before tilting his head back to look at you.

"You smoke?"

You hesitated. "Only sometimes."

Ben hummed. "Why only sometimes?"

You scoffed softly, lifting a brow. "Can’t really afford it."

That made him laugh—low and amused, smoke curling from his lips as he shook his head like you were something funny, something ridiculous.

Then—without warning—he plucked the cigarette from his mouth and held it to yours. The move was smooth, effortless, like it wasn’t even a question whether or not you’d take it.

Like he already knew you would.

Your lips parted before you could think, before you could stop yourself, and you let him press the cigarette between them.

Ben’s eyes darkened visibly as he watched you inhale. Watched the way your lips wrapped around the filter, the way your lashes fluttered as smoke filled your lungs.

And then—still watching—he took it back. Lifted it between two fingers, brought it back to his own mouth, inhaling slow and deep from the same spot your lips had just been.

Your stomach flipped. Your pulse pounded.

And in that moment, you understood. He was doing this on purpose. Every touch, every look, every slow, lazy movement. All of it.

Ben shifted slightly beneath you, his thigh flexing against you, his fingers tightening just a little against your hip. And you—God help you—you stayed perfectly still. Right where he put you.

Ben kept smoking, the cigarette dangling lazily between his fingers as he leaned back, the picture of easy, indulgent satisfaction. He didn’t move much—just enough to shift his thigh beneath you, just enough to flex against the softest parts of you when he adjusted his sprawl.

And you?

You didn’t move at all.

Not when he kept feeding you drags of his cigarette, the filter brushing against your lips in slow, deliberate offerings. Not when he exhaled thick ribbons of smoke past your shoulder, keeping you close, keeping you still.

"You didn’t answer me earlier."

You blinked, head tilting slightly, forcing yourself to keep your breath even.

"Sorry?"

"You live on campus?" His voice was lazy, deep, completely unbothered. "Or you got your own place?"

You hesitated for a beat, shifting your drink between your hands before answering.

"I have my own place."

Ben hummed, dragging another slow inhale from his cigarette, eyes steady on you. "That right?"

You nodded. "It’s nothing special, but I managed to get it all by myself. It’s not the worst neighbourhood, but it’s good."

He nodded, exhaling smoke in a slow, steady stream.

"You like it?"

You blinked, caught off guard. No one had ever asked you that before. You’d lived there for two, almost three years now. Since you’d started college. It wasn’t something you’d ever thought about, wasn’t something you’d ever stopped to consider.

It was just… a place. A roof. Somewhere to study, sleep, survive.

"I—" You hesitated, licking your lips. "I like the fire escape."

That made him laugh, short and sharp, the sound richer than the whiskey on his tongue.

"The fire escape?" He lifted a brow, smirking. "Why’s that?"

Your fingers traced absently along the rim of your glass. "I like sitting on it. Reading when it rains."

Ben made a low, thoughtful sound. A soft hum that rumbled somewhere deep in his chest. Like that was interesting. Like you were interesting.

His eyes flicked back to your face, pinning you in place, holding you there, trapping you without even touching you. Then, smoothly, effortlessly—

"You goin' home tonight?"

The question landed like a punch to the ribs. Your throat went dry.

"Or," Ben continued, flicking ash into a tray, his voice even, unbothered, "you wanna come home with me?"

You choked. Your lips parted, a rush of heat crawling up your throat, your skin prickling with something hot and tight and suffocating.

"I—"

Ben’s smirk deepened.

You forced a breath, shaking your head quickly. "I—no, I’m not—" You swallowed hard. "I’m not that type of girl."

That only made him grin wider.

"Yeah?" He exhaled slow, tilting his head as he took another drag, watching you through the smoke. "What kind of girl?"

You panicked. You could feel it, the clumsy mess of heat and nerves unraveling inside you, twisting your stomach into knots.

"I don’t—" You exhaled sharply, tripping over your own words. "I don’t just go home with guys and have sex after only knowing them for a few hours."

Ben let out a low, amused sound. And then—the kill shot.

"Didn’t say we were gonna fuck, sweetheart."

Your face burned. Your heart stopped.

And Ben just smirked. Smirked like he already knew exactly how you’d react. Like he’d known from the second he said it. Like he’d already fucking won.

Heat flushed up your throat, creeping high into your cheeks, and Ben noticed.

Of course he fucking noticed.

His smirk deepened, eyes flicking over your face before his knuckles brushed against your cheek, slow and deliberate, the drag of rough skin making your breath hitch.

"Fuckin’ cute," he muttered, almost to himself.

Your stomach flipped. You swallowed hard, ignoring the pulse hammering in your throat. "Then what did you mean?"

Ben tipped his head, watching you with lazy amusement.

"Hm?"

"If you weren’t inviting me to sleep with you," you clarified, voice softer now, breathier. "Then what did you mean?"

Ben exhaled slow, the cigarette burning amber-red between his fingers.

"It’s a Friday night, sweetheart," he murmured, stretching against the couch, his thighs shifting beneath you. "You could come back to mine."

He paused, tilting his glass to watch the whiskey swirl before flicking his gaze back to you.

"I could show you a good time."

Your stomach fluttered.

"More whiskey," he continued, tapping a lazy rhythm against the rim of his glass. "Better than this shit they’ve got here."

Your brows furrowed slightly.

Better?

The whiskey here was good. Expensive. You weren’t even sure how much better it could get—

"And," Ben added, eyes flicking lower, watching the way your legs pressed together, "I got some coke I’d love to blow up your ass."

You choked.

Ben laughed, rich and warm, whiskey-dark and indulgent, like he was savouring every second of this.

"That a no?" He teased, exhaling smoke.

You sputtered, shaking your head quickly. "I—what the fuck—"

Ben lifted a brow, eyes glinting. "You ever done coke, sweetheart?"

You hesitated. Too long. His smirk widened.

"Only once or twice," you admitted carefully, shifting slightly in his lap.

Ben hummed, something thoughtful, something knowing. Then—smooth as fucking silk—he leaned in just a little closer, fingers tightening against your waist, his breath warm and whiskey-sweet when he murmured.

"So come home with me."

Your pulse kicked.

"We don’t have to fuck," he added, smirking against the rim of his glass. "But if you feel like it after a few lines, I ain’t gonna chuck you out."

Your chest felt too tight. Your limbs felt too warm.

This was stupid. This was dangerous. This was the worst fucking idea you’d ever had.

And yet—

Yet his hand was still on you. Yet his voice was still in your ear. Yet he was still looking at you like he already knew you weren’t going to say no.

Because you weren’t. Because even if you had another choice, even if you had an escape, you’d still go willingly.

You nodded.

Ben’s grin flashed, wide and wicked, all sharp teeth and wolfish excitement.

"Yeah?"

The way he said it—rough, eager, eyes sparking like he’d just heard something delicious—made your stomach flip.

You nodded again. That was all he needed. Ben stood, all smooth, effortless power, knocking back the last of his whiskey in one swallow. Then he grabbed your glass, pressed it into your hands, and cocked a brow.

A challenge.

You understood. Your fingers curled around the cool glass. You lifted it to your lips, savouring the burn, letting it warm you from the inside out.

When you were finished, Ben was still watching you. And then? He grinned. And slung an arm around your shoulders, pulling you in close like he’d already decided you belonged there.

"C’mon, sweetheart."

He led you through the bar, past bodies and noise and neon glow, steering you out the front doors and onto the street.

That was when you saw it. The car. Big. Black. Sleek and expensive as hell. A driver stood by the curb, leaning against the hood, one boot crossed over the other, hands in his coat pockets.

Ben steered you toward the back door, but before he opened it, the driver let out a low, rough chuckle as he climbed into the front seat.

"Leavin’ early tonight, are ya, mate?"

The accent caught you off guard. British. Cockney. A voice like gravel and burnt whiskey, rough and sharp-edged.

Ben pressed you into the back. You glanced up, catching the driver’s eyes flick toward you in the rearview mirror, a smirk pulling at his mouth.

Ben clicked his tongue, shaking his head as he slid into the spot beside you. "Made a friend, Butcher."

Your stomach tightened.

"Wanted to show her a good time."

You swallowed hard, suddenly so fucking aware of where this was going, of what you’d just agreed to. But then Ben pulled you further into the backseat, and the moment stretched thin, reality slipping away, replaced with the heavy warmth of him against you.

The door shut. The city lights blurred past the tinted windows. And you realised something. Ben had a fucking driver.

A chauffeur.

You felt a slow, sharp pulse of realisation.

Jesus Christ, this man had money.

And as the car glided through the streets, moving toward the nicest part of the city—where buildings stretched high and elegant, where penthouses gleamed from impossible heights—

You couldn’t stop thinking about it. Why the hell was he indulging you? Why had he picked you?

Ben just smirked, pulling you closer, thumb tracing a slow, lazy stroke against your shoulder. And you were nervous now, because you didn’t belong in his world, but you were already inside it.

The car rolled to a smooth stop in front of a sleek, modern high-rise—all clean steel and glass, standing tall against the city skyline like it owned the night itself.

It was the kind of building that made your stomach drop.

The kind of place where people with money, real money, lived—the kind of people who didn’t check their bank accounts before ordering drinks, who didn’t split rent five ways just to make ends meet, who didn’t pick up extra shifts just to afford their next meal.

This was a different world.

The engine idled low, a soft hum beneath your skin, and then—

"So, what’s the plan, mate?"

You blinked.

Butcher was looking at Ben now, one arm slung over the back of the passenger seat, all smirk and knowing eyes.

"You want me to keep the car warm?" He asked, voice edged with thick, cockney amusement. "Or you takin’ the girl back later?"

Your stomach flipped.

Ben exhaled through his nose, grinning like he already knew the answer.

"Clock off for the night."

Butcher let out a low, rasping chuckle, nodding once as he faced forward again, like he’d already seen this a hundred times before.

The door clicked open.

And then Ben was pulling you out of the car, his hand firm against your lower back, guiding you forward—into the lobby, past the marble floors and golden light, past the concierge who didn’t even lift his head.

Because of course he didn’t. Because this was Ben’s world.

And then—

Then he was leading you to a private elevator. Not a normal one. Not one that anyone else could use. No—this one was his. A sleek, polished cage of steel and shadowed mirrors, with only one fucking button.

Penthouse.

Your pulse pounded. You barely had time to process before Ben pressed the button, the doors sliding shut—sealing you inside.

And then?

Then his hands were on you. Not in a foul way. Not in a way that made you want to run. But possessive. Purposeful. Heavy. His fingers gripped your hips, your waist, sliding over the thin fabric of your dress, curling around you like he was memorising every inch.

Your breath hitched as he spun you, pressing you up against the wall with zero hesitation, his body all heat and weight, caging you in.

He wasn’t kissing you. He wasn’t even trying to. But he was everywhere.

One hand hiked your thigh up, draping it over his hip, holding you open against him. His palm slid over the bare skin, rough and warm, trailing fire in its wake. The other? Splayed over your ribs, fingers flexing, gripping, feeling.

You gasped softly, lightheaded, dazed, overwhelmed.

And Ben? Well, Ben just smirked.

"Jesus Christ," he muttered, dragging his hand up, brushing his knuckles just beneath the swell of your breast, not quite touching—just teasing. "You’re soft as hell."

Your fingers clenched at your sides, your lips parting, but nothing came out.

"Fuckin’ sweet, too," he continued, voice low, thick with something weighted, something syrupy. His thumb dragged over your jaw, over your cheek, tracing slow, lazy circles against your heated skin.

"So goddamn good."

Your knees felt weak. Your body felt like it wasn’t even yours anymore.

"Fuckin’ glad I spotted you tonight, sweetheart."

The words sent a sharp, heavy pulse of heat straight through you. His breath was warm against your throat, but he still wasn’t kissing you.

Just feeling. Just touching. Just taking.

"So glad you ditched your little friends," he muttered, squeezing your thigh, his fingers pressing into soft flesh, into heat, into want. "Didn’t wanna have to come over and pull you away from 'em."

A pause. A dark little chuckle.

"Would’ve, though."

Your breath shuddered.

Ben tilted his head, watching your reaction, like he was waiting to see how deep he could sink his teeth. His grip tightened.

"Christ on a cross," he rasped, hungry, pleased. "You’re so fuckin’ pretty."

And fuck.

You felt like you were floating, like you weren’t even inside your own body anymore, like he had fully consumed you without even trying.

You hadn’t kissed. You hadn’t done anything.

But he was already all over you. And you were already his.

Ben didn’t take his hands off you.

Not once. Not in the elevator, where his grip stayed firm on your waist, fingers curling possessively over the thin fabric of your dress. Not as he led you down the hall, past artwork that looked like it belonged in a museum.

Not as he pressed a hand to your lower back, slow and steady, steering you toward a door at the very end.

And when he got there? When he reached for the handle, turning it effortlessly, he paused. He smirked. Then, with one push, the door swung open.

And fuckshitfuck.

You stepped inside—hesitantly, breath catching in your throat. Because it was beautiful. Not just rich. Not just expensive.

Money-money.

The kind of wealth that wasn’t loud or gaudy. The kind that settled deep into the bones of a place.

Everything was earth tones, dark woods, deep greens, warm browns. A massive, open-plan living room and kitchen stretched out before you—plush, oversized furniture, sleek coffee tables, a fireplace nestled into the far wall like an afterthought. One entire wall was just glass. Floor-to-ceiling windows that overlooked New York in its entirety, glittering and endless. And it was pristine.

Except for the drugs.

Half-finished baggies of white powder littered the coffee table. A bag of weed crumpled in the corner. Whiskey bottles stood like monuments—some full, some empty, some abandoned halfway.

A pack of cigarettes lay open beside a vintage lighter that probably cost more than your monthly rent.

The room reeked of money, whiskey, power. Of Ben.

And you just stood there, gawping. Wide-eyed, breath shallow, taking it all in. You hadn’t realised how long you’d been standing there until you heard him chuckle.

"Somethin’ caught your eye, sweetheart?"

You turned, heat creeping up your neck—

And Ben was leaning against the doorframe, arms crossed, watching you with pure amusement. Like he already knew exactly how overwhelmed you were. Like he was enjoying this just a little too much.

And that smirk? The one that said you were exactly where he wanted you? Yeah. That wasn’t leaving his face anytime soon.

"Jesus fucking Christ," you choked out, breathless, eyes still dragging over the room, over the drugs, over the absolute excess of it all. "What do you do for a living?"

Ben laughed. Not just a chuckle, but a real, warm, whiskey-thick laugh, head tilting back slightly as if the question was fucking hilarious.

"Not important."

That was all he gave you. No explanation. No answer. Just a lazy smirk as he jerked his chin toward the couch.

"Go sit down."

You nodded—still dazed, still breathless, still trying to process where the hell you were—but instead of sitting, your feet carried you toward the window. The city stretched out before you, lights spilling across the night, thousands of tiny pinpricks glowing against the dark.

It was beautiful.

So much—so big—so vast and consuming.

You didn’t realise you were staring, didn’t realise how quiet the room had gotten, until you heard him moving behind you.

The low clink of glass against glass. The soft thud of a bottle against the counter. The sound of him fumbling through something, shifting around, pouring drinks.

Then he was closer. The air shifted, thickened, and then the drinks were being placed down on the table beside the couch, and then—

Heat.

Solid and warm and undeniable as Ben stepped up flush against your back. Large, rough hands slid over your waist, slow and deliberate, fingers flexing slightly against your hips, gripping, holding.

You exhaled sharply, but you didn’t move. Not even when his fingers brushed your hair over your shoulder, exposing the bare skin of your neck. Not even when you felt his breath—hot and steady, thick with whiskey and smoke—ghost over the sensitive skin there.

He inhaled. Breathed you in deep, slow, indulgent.

Your eyes fluttered. Your heart kicked.

"Ever seen it like this?" He murmured, voice low against your throat.

You swallowed, hard, struggling to find words. "Never," you whispered.

Then he dragged his beard down your neck. Slow. Rough. Teasing. A scrape of warmth and friction as he traced down to the junction of your shoulder, where he paused, fingers tightening just slightly against your waist.

"Pretty fuckin’ cool, huh?"

You just nodded. Couldn’t do anything else. Didn’t trust yourself to speak. And Ben chuckled—low, rich, satisfied—his breath a warm rush against your skin.

Then, before you could even process it, he spun you—quick, effortless, leaving you lightheaded and breathless—until you were facing him.

"So," he drawled, smirking as his fingers dragged down your arm, as his thumb brushed slow circles into your skin. "About that coke."

A pause. A challenge. An invitation to ruin.

Because you know exactly what he’s asking. And you already know what your answer’s gonna be.

Ben took your hand. The grip was firm, steady, assured—like he was leading you somewhere you’d never been before, somewhere you weren’t supposed to go.

And you let him. You let him pull you back toward the couch, let him sink onto the cushions before pulling you down with him.

His arm draped over the back of the sofa, legs spread wide, thighs brushing against yours as he reached for something on the coffee table. You watched as he picked up a small, round mirror—not a plate, not a tray, but a perfectly cut, polished mirror disk—and set it between you.

Then, he reached for the knife. Not a normal one. Something sleek, expensive, sharp as hell.

You swallowed, watching as he tapped a small bag against the mirror, tipping out soft white powder, letting it fall in neat, delicate little mounds. He worked slowly, unbothered, using the blade to spread it out, separate it, line it up into thin, precise rails of destruction.

One big.

Four small.

Then, without a word, he leaned down. Inhaled the big one like it was nothing, like it was routine, like he wasn’t even thinking about it. The rasp of his breath pulling it in sent a sharp pulse through you, made something tight coil low in your stomach.

Then he tapped the knife against the mirror. A soft, metallic clink. And then his eyes flicked to you.

"Your turn."

You swallowed. Nodded. Leaned down, hands pressed against your thighs, trying not to overthink it.

The powder burned, sharp and electric, snaking down the back of your throat and settling like pure fire in your bloodstream.

You sat back fast, licking your lips, pressing your tongue against your teeth—

Jesus Christ.

It was good. Better than anything you’d ever had before. And you knew. Knew that even that one line—that small amount you just did—probably cost more than everything you were wearing.

And the dress you had on? It was expensive. Because it wasn’t even yours.

It was borrowed.

Just like this moment. Just like this night. Just like the breath you were taking right now, sitting beside him, sinking deeper into something you weren’t sure you’d be able to climb out of.

And Ben was watching you. Watching the way your pupils dilated, watching the way your body relaxed, then tensed, then relaxed again.

And then—softer, darker, lazier—

"Yeah, sweetheart." A slow, amused hum, tapping the knife once more against the mirror, watching the way you were already chasing the high. "That’s the good shit."

Ben tapped the knife against the mirror again, sharp and expectant.

"Go on."

Not a question. A directive.

Your pulse skipped. But you didn’t hesitate. You leaned down again, dragging in another quick, clean inhale, feeling the burn, the sharp flood of heat and adrenaline surging through your system, blooming fast and bright beneath your skin.

Before you’d even sat back properly, Ben was already taking the last two lines, exhaling through his nose, jaw flexing as he set the mirror back onto the coffee table.

Then—without missing a beat—he passed you your drink. And pulled you straight into his lap. Rough. Thoughtless. Uninhibited. The coke had already stripped away the last of his patience, his hands heavier now, more possessive, more desperate to touch.

Your knees hit the couch cushions on either side of his thighs as you let him drag you over him, gasping softly as your weight settled onto his lap.

Your fingers curled instinctively around your whiskey glass, and then you spilled it. Just a little—just a splash, just enough to stain the stark white fabric stretched across his chest. Your eyes went wide.

"Oh my God—"

Ben just waved a hand.

"Don’t fuckin’ matter, doll."

Then, to prove his point, he grabbed the collar of his shirt and pulled. Hard. The top few buttons popped clean off, pinging against the glass in your hand, the sharp little sound ringing out between you.

Your breath hitched, then you laughed. A real, bright, breathless laugh.

And Ben froze. Just for a second. Then—low, rasping, amused—

"Shit."

His hand slid up, fingertips pressing into the hinge of your jaw, rubbing slow circles, thumb brushing over your pulse.

"That’s a pretty fuckin’ sound."

You blinked, still breathless, still lightheaded from the coke and the earlier whiskey.

"What?"

Ben’s smirk curled slow, lazy, dark.

"Your laugh." His hand trailed lower, over your throat, over your collarbone. Over your legs, kneading into soft flesh, gripping. "Fuckin’ cute."

The word sent a sharp, electric pulse straight through you.

"You’re fuckin’ cute."

Your heart stuttered.

His hands moved restlessly, hungrily—up your thighs, over the thin fabric of your dress, rubbing slow circles into your hip.

"The fuck were you even doin’ out tonight in that bar, huh?" He muttered, voice rough, almost possessive.

Your lips parted, but nothing came out.

Ben just smirked.

"Dumb fuckin’ luck."

His hand fisted into your hair, tugging just enough to make your breath catch.

"Wasn’t even lookin’ for a girl tonight."

His thumb dragged over your jaw, his grip tightening.

"And somehow, I see a fuckin’ angel at the bar."

You swallowed, hard, pulse fluttering against his palm.

And Ben—Ben just kept looking at you like he already owned you. Like he’d already decided you were his.

Your fingers tightened around your glass. You took a sip, letting the whiskey burn through you, and immediately, your eyes went wide.

"Holy fuck—" You stared at the glass, shocked. "This is good."

Ben’s smirk widened, all smug, all knowing.

"Told you I had better shit."

You took another sip, let the whiskey melt against your tongue, burn down your throat, let your head tip back as you savoured it. And then his hand was on you again. Big, warm, rough—fingers curling around your throat, guiding your face back down, forcing your gaze to his.

Your breath caught.

Ben’s pupils were blown wide, pitch-black, swallowing up the green. Coke-dilated. Lust-drunk. And he laughed. Low and smug and so fucking amused.

"Shit, sweetheart." His fingers tightened just slightly, enough to make your head feel even lighter. "You're fucked."

You blinked, hazy, breathless, lost.

Ben’s eyes dragged over your face, watching. Studying. Memorising.

"No pretty colour left in those eyes anymore," he murmured, voice slow, heavy, lazy as sin. "Swallowed whole by your fuckin' pupils."

A pause. A smirk.

"Can you even see straight?"

And fuck. The way he said it. The mocking lilt. The condescension. You whimpered. Soft. Small. Instinctive.

And Ben saw it.

You watched the realisation dawn on him in real time—

The way his smirk flickered, darkened, deepened. The way his pupils somehow blown out further, his grip flexing slightly against your throat because he fucking knew now.

He knew exactly what you liked.

And now? Now, he wasn’t gonna let it go.

Ben sighed, like he had all the patience in the world. Then, without breaking eye contact, he plucked the whiskey glass from your hand and set it on the side table.

Then—with nothing else between you—he fixed you with his undivided attention.

"Now," he murmured, voice dipping low, dark, warm like syrup.

"You gonna let me stick my tongue down your throat?" A pause. A smirk. "Or you need a bit more coke first?"

You whimpered again. And that was it. That was all it took.

Ben let out a low, satisfied hum, then tightened his grip on your throat and pulled you in. His lips crashed against yours, deep and consuming, nothing soft, nothing hesitant. His tongue licked into your mouth immediately—wet and hot and insistent, tasting of whiskey and sin and the kind of ruin you’d never recover from.

It wasn’t just a kiss.

It was possession. A claim. And you let him take it.

@mostlymarvelgirl @lunaleah @drakulana @sl33pylilbunny @itshellfire @nevercameraready @suckitands33 @kayleighwinchester <3

#pfiahc writes #my writing #soldier boy #soldier boy fanfiction #soldier boy smut #soldier boy x reader #soldier boy x you #the boys #the boys fanfiction #the boys fanfic #the boys au #the boys smut #the boys x you #the boys x reader #the boys x female reader #soldier boy x female reader #soldier boy au

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hwaslayer · 1 month ago

Text

the space between us three (jyh) | seven.

⇢series masterlist | series playlist

⇢summary: while juggling the demands of life, yunho continues to do his best to raise his independent 11 yr old daughter, seora. throughout the years, they've built a strong foundation, an unbreakable bond— one that consists of late night talks and food runs, father/daughter dates, and sideline cheerleading at her basketball games. so when you unexpectedly come into their world, things shift. despite the uncertainty and the fear of stepping outside of their comfort zone, yunho and seora eventually learn how to open their hearts and learn how to rebuild a home where three can thrive together.

⇢pairing: single dad!yunho x f. reader

⇢genre: (18+ - minors dni) strangers to lovers, single dad au | fluff, angst, smut

⇢word count: 7.8k

⇢chapter content/warnings: cussing, mature language/sexually implied content, just hella cute moments between these two 😭, lots of kisses, dancing, alcohol consumption and intoxication, making out lol, good vibes and good company, feelings are deep af so we get a glimpse as to how they're both feeling about the future of their relationship, yunho is hella sweet bro fAWK, we also get a glimpse of seonghwa’s ‘afraid of commitment’ headass

When you get into the office, there's a brand new desktop setup waiting for you, along with a cup of coffee, the shop's new sticker for the week and a tiny bouquet. You slowly set your stuff down and smile to yourself, picking up the post-it on top of the coffee cup.

i had to create a temporary password to set up your account on this comp - it's 'yunhoisthebest01' 😊 feel free to change it when you log in (or not)! have a good day today, pretty. - yunho

You nibble on your bottom lip, afraid someone will catch you smiling too big at the note. Since your date with Yunho, all your time has been occupied by him in one way or another. It was lunch. Small walks. Breaks to grab snacks together. Quick dinner dates. It was either texting all day in between running errands and other obligations, responding to each other through Instagram stories or even late night calls.

⇢FLASHBACK

yunho: are you awake?

you: sure am!

yunho: oh snap, what? lol catching miss pretty during the late night hours?

you: haha stoppp i'm not tired yet!

yunho: can i call you then?

You quickly finish up your night time routine and throw yourself in bed, getting ready to look presentable even though Yunho isn't physically here.

you: yes ofc!

It doesn't take long before Yunho's ringing your phone, the heat creeping up to your cheeks when you settle in bed and hear his deep voice on the other line.

"Hello?"

"Hey cutie. Did you just get in bed?"

"Just about, yup. What about you?"

"Yeah. Seora and I just wrapped up our show for tonight."

"Cute. Is she asleep already?"

"Seora? God, no. She's actually on the phone with her friends right now, too. They're hehe-haha'ing away as we speak." Yunho listens to his daughter's voice raise on the phone before laughing loudly. He typically doesn't mind but when it gets too late for his liking, that's when he'll get into father mode and knock on her door.

"That's so cute. Love that for the girlies."

"Yeah well, if she keeps it up, I'm gonna have to tell her to get off and sleep."

"Yunho." You giggle. "It's the weekend. I'm sure they won't be on for long. Besides, at least I can keep you occupied in the meantime."

"Yeah?" Yunho chuckles. "How are you gonna keep me occupied, hm?" His voice is low. You can tell he's wearing that smirk he always wears, and you can't help but bite your lip at the image in your head.

"Yapping your head off." He laughs.

"I like that." He adjusts his position on the bed, sheets rustling in the background. "What'd you do today, pretty girl? We didn't get to talk much."

"I know, I'm sorry. I ran some errands and met up with Sian really quickly. Came home, deep cleaned my apartment and changed my sheets. Was apparently exhausted at one point and fell asleep while watching my show. Then, I realized it was dinner! So I whipped something up, rewatched the episodes I missed and now I'm here."

"Busy bee. Sounds productive, though."

"Yeah, been needing to get these done. What about you?"

"She had a game again, but we ended up hanging out with some of her friends and their parents afterward. It was a later game so we weren't up too early."

"Did she win?"

"Mhm. I think they might make the playoffs this year, they've been doing really well."

"That's amazing."

"You should watch her play one day."

"Of course." You chuckle a bit.

"Would you think I'm weird if I said I kinda miss you?"

"No, never. I kinda miss you, too. But, you'll see me at work next week." You smile to yourself as you softly respond.

"I don't wanna see you just at work, though."

"Then, what do you wanna do, Yunho? You know I'm always down to go out."

"Wish I could have you here, is all."

"Yeah, I know the feeling." You mean it. You really do. You know the feeling all too well, but you know the circumstances are different. It's not easy. And it's something you and Yunho will have to confront at some point— should this continue going the way it is.

Cause you like him. A lot. The feelings are mutual.

"I'll make it happen."

"Will you?"

"Mhm."

"That determined, hm?" You tease.

"I am. You know I don't do this unless I'm serious about you."

"So, are you saying you're serious about me?"

"And if I am?" Yunho chuckles a bit.

"Yunho." You whine playfully.

"You smiling, baby?" His voice is low, husky, and it immediately does things to you.

"I'm hanging up on you."

"No, don't." He laughs. "I don't take it back, though."

"Good, I was hoping you wouldn't." He smiles and bites his lip, his need for you growing at a tremendously fast rate and it is scary. But, he enjoys it. He enjoys you.

"You're cute."

⇢END

"Y/N, shut up." Noeul says as she trails in, her eyes widening at the sight in front of her. "He did not."

"Yeah, he did."

"He's so fucking sweet. You better give him all that ass and more."

"Okay, Noeul. It's so early." You laugh.

"Is he coming tomorrow?"

"I dunno, he said he was gonna try to swing by if he could. Depending on whether or not Seora would sleepover at her bestfriend's house and if his friends wanted to go."

"I hope so. I'd love to see you two in action even though I already get glimpses of it." You let out a content breath.

"We'll see." You sit and look up at her. "Anyway, are we still on to get our nails done after work?"

"Mhm. Sian said she's gonna have to skip because she promised she'd take her niece out while she's sleeping over at her parents' house."

"Yeah, she should spend time with her. It's been a minute since they've had some quality time."

"We have all weekend with you, though."

"Woo!" You cheer, making her laugh.

"Are you seeing Yunho at some point today?"

"Mm, gonna see if he can grab lunch or something."

"So cute." She giggles. "Full day today?"

"Not too bad, but we'll see if anything pressing comes up during the day."

"Yeah, same. Well let me know if you wanna take a quick walk later. Just text me." You nod. "Have a good day. See you later, babe." You wave her off before returning your attention to your phone and pulling up Yunho's text thread.

you: thank you, yunho. 🥰

yunho: course, cutie. you can finally work productively now!

you: love that for me. hahaha

you: free for lunch later?

yunho: always. i'll come get you around 12:15pm or so.

you: okeeee ☺️

You start working away on your new desktop, following up on a lot of pending items before answering new emails coming in. You've hopped in a few 30-min meetings throughout the hours, exchanging updates on the wider progress of the new clinical department already on its way in the main hospital, along with the pediatric end. You've got a few new things to check on, along with new groups to work with to make sure things continue moving. But, for the first time in awhile these past weeks, you feel like you can take a breath of fresh air. Most of the complicated, loose ends have been closed off, and the rest is just figuring out little details— where certain furniture is going, how a typical set up would be, what color blinds they'd like in the department.

The more fun, creative tasks.

Yunho is included in one of the meetings and it's crazy how giddy you feel the moment you see him. This doesn't even have anything to do with you and him, but you love the way he carries himself. You love the way he talks, you love the way he presents and answers questions so confidently. His energy is so undefeated and you can't even begin to understand how someone like him has feelings for someone like you.

You just feel lucky, and you aren't even official. Was that too much?

It's something about him, real talk.

When it gets close to lunch, you're checking off things on your list— giving you to a nice moment to sit back and scroll through social media mindlessly.

"Hey." Yunho's tall figure pops into your cubicle and sits onto the free chair nearby. "I see you're putting this to good use." He points at your split screen on the desktop— one for your calendar on the browser, one for emails.

"Very much so. Thank you for this. I thought I was gonna have to wait a bit longer. I know provisioning is crazy busy right now."

"Not if I'm around." You laugh.

"Well, thank you. Life saver."

"You're welcome." He leans forward and gives you a quick kiss on the lips, hidden well in your cubicle. "Ready to eat?"

"Yes, I'm hungry." You stand and begin to follow him out. "By the way, you did great during the meeting, Yu."

"You think so? I winged the fuck out of it." You playfully push him while he laughs.

"So, was it bullshit?!"

"I mean, not necessarily! Whatever I said will work, I just haven't tried it in this case in particular."

"Jeong Yunho."

"That's my name." He swings his arm around you and kisses your temple. "Nah, don't sweat. I always find ways to make it work." He turns to you as you both walk out of the elevator. "So.. I was thinking. If you aren't too swamped today, maybe we can get lunch off campus." Which, isn't unusual coming from Yunho. You and him have gone off campus to grab lunch together. But, that also means you get Yunho alone for a bit and you can already feel the butterflies building in your stomach. Not that you didn't enjoy people's company whenever they joined you two for lunch— it just feels nice to have your time with him, too.

"Yeah, I'm down. It's pretty light for a Friday."

"Good." He slips his hand into yours, leading you to his car in the main staff garage.

"Yunho, are you sure it's okay?"

"Mhm. Our new hires are starting to get more hands-on with Taehyun and Jihoon. They're actually really good about jumping in and taking initiative."

"Oh, nice! That's great to hear they're doing well."

"Yup! Works out perfectly." He swings your door open and lets you get settled in before sliding into the driver's seat. The conversation immediately picks back up to the meeting you both were in today, Yunho asking about your progress and what else you needed to get done now that the foundation was pretty much solidified. The entire time, Yunho has his free hand in yours— pressing sweet kisses to the top in between conversation at the red lights. You feel the heat rise to your cheeks every single time, shying away when he teases you about it in his usual Yunho manner.

The both of you decide on grabbing sushi from a popular, affordable mom & pop shop near the hospitals. Yunho finds a spot and asks for your specifics before walking in to place an order. It takes about 15 minutes before Yunho is walking back to the car with a full container and a smaller one on top in a plastic bag, setting it gently on your lap before he drives over to a nearby walking trail near a lake that you two can eat and relax for a bit at.

"You excited for your birthday?" Yunho asks as you both dig in and begin to eat, watching the geese flock at the lake in front of you.

"Mm, I dunno. The age is a little too serious for my liking but we'll see."

"Are you trying to say I'm a fossil? Pre-historic?" You laugh loudly and shake your head.

"No, of course not!"

"You're only a year younger than me." Yunho chuckles. "Still young, still thriving, as Seora says."

"She's so cute. I like her thinking."

"Are you really not excited?"

"I am. I just.. I hope you can come. But, like, I know it's hard so no pressure—" You start to stumble over your words and Yunho smiles at you.

"Just know that I'll always try, okay? I'm sure it'll work out, and then we can celebrate you together."

"It'd be fun."

"When's the last time you've gone out like this?" You shrug.

"Awhile. We've definitely gone to bars with coworkers and do the whole happy hour thing, but it's been a long time since I've gone out to the club and celebrated this way."

"Your brother and his friends are coming along?" You nod.

"Yup! And a few more people from work that we're all close to."

"See, it'll be a fun time regardless."

"Yeah. I guess I am excited. I haven't gone out with my brother like this in awhile either."

"When you guys go on vacation, do you explore and do things together or stay put at the hotel?"

"We always explore. Always." You chuckle.

"A fun duo."

"We try to be."

"What else are you doing for your birthday, pretty girl?"

"Mm. Sian and Noeul are coming over right at midnight." You laugh. "Then, I think they planned a few things. They didn't give me any specifics but they said brunch and a spa date thingy."

"Cute."

"Me and Noeul are getting our nails done after work."

"Sian isn't coming?"

"Her niece is staying at her parents' house for the weekend so she wants to go spend some time with her while she can."

"Ah, I see. Makes sense." Yunho takes a sip of his water. "Seora would've loved to tag along even if she wasn't able to do anything."

"Aw. Well, I can take her along with me one day." Yunho silently nods with a tiny smile etched on the corner of his lips. He'd love that, and he can already see how well you two would get along.

It's just the fact of how long it'll take to get there.

Kinda makes him sad, but Seora deserves everything and he is always gonna put her first. He knows it won't be easy, and he knows she won't put down her walls immediately. In fact, he knows she'll have a hard time with this and she'll have a hard time with you.

He's so conflicted on what to do. He obviously doesn't wanna lose you and let all of this go. It's been ages since he felt this way and for the first time in a long time, he can genuinely and truly say his feelings run deep for you. He feels comfortable and he feels safe, despite the fears still lingering in the back of his mind. He can't let this go.

He knows life is short and he'll probably never come across something like this again.

But, Seora.

Oh, he hopes she'll understand. He swallows the anxiety that's slowly building every time he thinks about it— afraid to ruin your lunch or even your birthday. He'll continue to go with the flow and keep you happy, and he'll face it when the time comes.

Which, is probably soon with how quick he's falling for you.

"Mm, yeah." Is all he manages to respond with, also feeling stuffed from lunch as you both sit back and enjoy the peace while basking in the sun. Yunho has his arm draped against the back of the bench while you scoot closer and remove the trash from in between. The stillness, the quiet, is nice. You like being able to do this with Yunho.

You are comfortable, and you are safe.

You don't have to do much with him and he still manages to make you feel lucky. To make you feel wanted.

"Thank you again for saving my butt with the desktop." He chuckles.

"Yeah, of course."

"When did you even set it up?"

"This morning."

"You made Seora get up early just to fix my computer?"

"She didn't mind. Her bestfriend is always at school early anyway because her parents have pretty strict early shifts."

"Mm." I hum. "Okay, fair enough."

"C'mere." He looks down at you with a smile. His hand comes down to lift your chin up, kissing you on the lips with nothing but a sweet gentleness behind his actions. Yunho has been nothing short of gentle with you— sharing sweet, tiny moments like this. Nothing more, nothing less.

He doesn't expect anything out of it. Doesn't rush or force you, even though the need for him is slowly growing day by day; the more you spend time with him.

But, it's all in the motions. All in time. This pace works for you two.

You smile against his lips, pressing another few repeated kisses on him before you're walking back to the car hand in hand— ready to tackle the rest of the day before you're off for pre-birthday festivities with one of your bestfriends.

Once the clock hit midnight, you heard a knock on your door before footsteps rushed down the front steps of your apartment complex. You peeked through the peephole, only able to catch an unfamiliar car driving off. Your focus quickly strayed when you noticed the huge flower bouquet and balloons on your doorstep. You gasped to yourself, slowly swinging your door open before taking in the sight of it all. You dragged the balloons in gently, making sure none of them popped as you relocated them safely inside of your apartment. You placed the huge bouquet into a vase before grabbing the small card wedged in between two baby pink roses:

happy birthday, beautiful. - yunho

You snapped a photo and sent it to Yunho with a crying emoji, barely able to send a follow up message before your loud ass bestfriends barged through your door with confetti and all sorts of celebratory items in hand.

Now, you were exhausted and waking up close to noon because of all the drinking and late night talks that happened last night. When Noeul and Sian saw the balloons and the flowers, they wouldn't let the conversation about Yunho go even if your eyes were closing more and more by the second.

"Birthday girl is awake!" Sian says at your kitchen, already preparing coffee.

"Barely." You sit up and dig your head into your hands. "My head kinda hurts."

"Your birthday barely started, there's more where that came from."

"Please. You guys did so much planning for the club tonight, I need to at least make it inside." Noeul laughs next to you.

"You haven't heard from Yunho yet about tonight?"

"No." You sigh. "But either way, we'll enjoy whether or not they come. He's not obligated to show up and he shouldn't force it if he can't."

"You're right. I'm still praying and crossing my fingers, though." Noeul says before getting up. "Come on, get up. We're gonna enjoy this coffee prepared by yours truly—" She turns to Sian for a quick moment. "Before we take you out for a full day of birthday goodness and see your family for brunch!"

"Then, we get back in time to get ready for tonight's festivities!" Sian adds, making you shake your head as Noeul literally drags you out of bed to throw you in the shower.

Meanwhile, Yunho is at some café downtown after dropping off Seora at Chan-mi's house. He's poking at his food while Mingi and Seonghwa argue in front of him, completely unaware of what said argument is even about.

"Aye, tell him he's wrong." Mingi hits him on the chest, pulling Yunho out of his thoughts.

"About what?"

"He wasn't even listening." Seonghwa cuts eyes at Yunho before sliding in his seat even more.

"Sorry, I'm just—"

"Thinking about Y/N? We know."

"No— well, yeah, but no." Yunho sighs and looks at his friends. "What the fuck do I even wear? I haven't gone out like this in so long, I can't even remember."

"You mean, you haven't gone out for someone you really like in so long?"

"Yeah, that."

"Let's head to the mall really quickly after this." Seonghwa adds. "You can still look good for your girl without doing too much."

"You're right for once." Seonghwa kicks Mingi's foot under the table, causing him to groan.

"I'm always right, you fucking prick."

"That's why I'm the favorite uncle. Cause you're always so grumpy. Besides, who the fuck accidentally spills the beans about his date?"

"It just slipped! I wasn't paying attention."

"Yeah, the hell." Yunho laughs. "You're lucky she didn't bring it up again after that." Yunho takes the last bite of his food before he throws in a crumpled napkin and sits back. "Ready to head to the mall? Do you guys have something to wear or are you buying stuff, too?"

"I'm gonna grab some things."

"Same." The three stand and gather their trash before heading out to the mall. Yunho had picked up Seonghwa and Mingi in exchange for Seora's presence, the two planning to stay the night post-club festivities. Mingi decided he'd be the designated driver tonight with Yunho's car, only coming for the vibes and to support his bestfriend. On the other hand, Yoori wasn't too happy to know Seonghwa wouldn't be getting his time tonight, but he had been spending a lot of time with her lately that he felt the need to give himself some space.

Some me time.

And he's not gonna lie, he's pretty excited for it. So is Mingi, so is Yunho.

The three walk around their favorite stores, grabbing a few key pieces they can throw into their closet rotation. Tonight, Yunho's gonna wear something simple, but enough to [hopefully] keep your attention. He's planning on a black button up and slacks, while Mingi is deciding to throw on a white tee and some slacks. Seonghwa bought a new leather jacket to go with his black top and black jeans. They don't spend too much time at the mall— the three quickly satisfied and calling it a day early on so they can chill until tonight.

Yunho just realized he never told you if he was going or not.

But, he also realizes he can take this and run with it. Surprise you, be with you all night.

He's fucking excited.

For him, the day feels excruciatingly long and stretched out, but for you, the day moves too fast for your liking. The first stop is a popular Thai eatery that is booked for months on end for brunch. When you walk in, your parents, Wonwoo and a few other good friends from work are already sitting at a long table near the back, happily greeting you with their birthday wishes when you approach the table. You automatically feel complete seeing the people you love the most all in one place, eating away at all the delicious food your group ordered while sipping on mimosas. The restaurant has a 2-hr limit due to its popularity, so by the time 2-hrs is up, you're full, you're content, you're ready to walk it off. Your parents smother you in kisses before handing you an envelope with some birthday money, waving goodbye as your brother whisks them away and takes them back home. Wonwoo gives you a quick hug before he's reminding you him and his friends will be over at your place to pre-game for tonight, causing you to nod and shoo him away in return.

You were starting to get excited.

But, Noeul and Sian take you to the next stop: a spa. The three of you indulge in a 90-min hot stone massage— something you truly needed from these grueling weeks at work. As you lay on the table while your massage is on the way, your thoughts hover to Yunho and how much you miss him. He hadn't sent many messages today, and you know he's only doing it to let you enjoy your day with the girls. But, you wish he was here. Or, that he's around.

Or, that you'd see him tonight.

You really hope the universe would align on this one with you.

All in all, post-massage you feel relaxed. Cool, calm and collected. You, Noeul and Sian grab takeout to eat at the ease of your home— excited to sit around and take a little break before your brother and all your other friends, his friends, come over before the club.

The pre-party before the party.

Time really does fly when you're genuinely enjoying yourself. So much that it's hard to grasp just how fast it's been going.

You slip into your black dress and start working on your hair and makeup with Sian and Noeul. Your other friends trickle in one by one, touching up their hair and makeup while blasting music. Sooner or later, there's loud talking and footsteps hurrying up the stairs to your unit— a familiar voice coming through on the opposite side of the door:

"Yo!" Wonwoo yells, pounding on your door. You hurry to the door and let your brother and his friends in, all of them loudly greeting you and your friends as they come in and fill your space. "Let's get this going so we can head out!"

"Line up the shots!" Soonyoung yells. "Birthday girl, I'm connecting my phone to your speakers!" You nod and give him the thumbs up, doing the final touches to your makeup before heading to the kitchen and whipping out the alcohol for the pre-game session. You bounce along to the music while everyone hypes themselves up for the night, checking your phone for any new texts from Yunho.

There hadn't been any since you responded to him earlier in the day, and it makes you feel a little sad.

Maybe he was busy? Maybe he wanted you to be present on your birthday?

You would've really enjoyed with him around.

Guess the universe wasn't aligning for this one.

"Why are you all quiet? Is your man not coming tonight?" Wonwoo's voice pulls you out of your thoughts. Your brother leans back against the counter as you pop open the Don Julio and start pouring the shots quietly.

"He's not my man." You shrug. "And I don't know. He never said anything after he said he'd try and I don't wanna ask or make him feel guilty about it."

"Not your man, yet." He teases. "He's probably coming. It's all a part of the surprise."

"Don't get my hopes up, Wonu." Your brother pinches your cheek.

"Simp."

"You're annoying." You shove a shot in his face. "Here. Start passing them out." Wonwoo does as he's told like the good brother he is, calling everyone to start gathering around with their shots. Once you've poured enough, Wonwoo leads the whole birthday speech nonsense before you're all taking the shots straight— many faces being made [groans being let out] at the taste and burn of tequila.

One turns to two.

Two turns to four.

Four turns to you're tipsy as hell.

You leave your studio as is when its time to head out the club, squishing in the backseat of Wonwoo's car with Noeul and Sian. Wonwoo's friend, Seokmin, takes the front seat, helping your brother keep the last bit of sanity he has left with his company during the drive over.

"You guys ready?" Wonwoo looks at the rearview mirror, watching as you and the girls drunkly respond and yell in excitement. He looks at Seokmin in the front seat, laughing while he hears the chaos echo from the back to the front. It's late in the evening, so the roads aren't as packed anymore. This makes the drive over to the club only about 25 minutes long down South.

It's a fuckin' breeze when you're tipsy and having fun with your bestfriends in the backseat of your brother's nice ass car.

When you arrive and reunite with the other half of the group, you walk to the club together and skip through the tremendously long line down the block. You head straight to the VIP table everyone chipped in for, giving you a good corner of the club to claim as your own.

"Let's go!" Seokmin yells, leading the guys over to the bar to start ordering on everyone's behalf. The night is already off to an incredibly strong start with more shots to take— all your friends living life on the edge by chasing with cocktails.

It feels good to let loose.

You haven't in a long time.

You begin to dance and have fun with the group, almost completely forgetting Yunho's absence until:

"Bitch, excuse me!" Sian rushes over to you after visiting the bar. "He's here! With his friends!"

"What?" You squint and lean towards Sian's ear, unable to hear her properly.

"Yunho! He's here with his friends!" She points towards the door, finding the three walking in as they search the crowd for you and the group.

"See! I knew he wouldn't miss out!" Noeul adds. You smile, waving Yunho over when he finally locks eyes with you in the sea of people, the excitement running through your veins.

He's here.

"You made it!" You say to him as he comes face to face. He chuckles and pulls you into a nice, big hug— his cologne filling your senses when he holds you tight.

"Course I did. You think I'd miss this?"

"Well, I dunno. Seora?"

"She would never miss an opportunity to sleep over at her bestfriend's house." You look at him, his hands still around your waist. "I wouldn't miss an opportunity to be with you, either."

"Stop." He shakes his head while he watches you shy away.

"Happy birthday, baby." He says in your ear before placing a tender kiss on your forehead. Seonghwa greets you next, pulling you into a hug before greeting your friends. Mingi comes after, also pulling you into a hug even though you hadn't formally met until tonight.

"So, we finally meet!" He says while laughing.

"I know, it's so good to see you! I'm glad you guys made it out!"

"Of course, why not? Plus, we're celebrating you. It's a good reason to be out and having fun." You smile at him before pulling them over to the group sitting at a nearby table. Yunho and your brother have already greeted each other, and now, he's making his rounds for meet and greets with everyone else.

"Take a shot with us?" Yunho comes back to you after he's done mingling and saying his hello's. "On me." You nod. He takes your hand as Seonghwa and Mingi lead the way to the bar, Yunho guiding you from behind as he tightly laces his fingers with yours. Seonghwa orders more shots, asking you what your preference is.

"I'm only gonna taking this one for you though because I'm driving."

"More than enough for me." You smile at Mingi, grabbing your glass while the other three wait for theirs. The moment their hands are full, you clink your glass against theirs, cheering loudly before you take the shot down the neck— the tequila burning the column of your throat as it travels down. "I don't know how much more I have left in me." You wince at the taste, making Yunho chuckle.

"I just got here. We've gotta keep going." He squeezes your hand.

"By the way, glad your bouquet and balloons made it inside safely." Seonghwa smiles.

"Wait, you dropped it off for him?"

"Sure did! I was on my way home, anyway."

"Thank you." You look at the both of them before the bartender slides down three more shots for you, Seonghwa and Yunho, claiming it was on the house for your birthday.

Once you've taken the shot and sipped on a cocktail to wash away the after taste, you've gotten yourself to a really good level with the alcohol and you don't think you wanna push yourself any further. The DJ starts hitting a good point of his set— you and your group bouncing and dancing along to the music. The entire time, though, you find yourself clinging to Yunho the more you feel the alcohol seeping in.

The more the world spins.

And he enjoys that.

"You okay?" He asks, his arm coming around you.

"Yeah. I'm just happy you're here." He smiles.

"I am, too." He kisses your forehead again. It all starts off cute— with Yunho grabbing you by the hand so you could both sing or rap along to the songs with each other. From time to time, he switches it up; hugging you from behind and swaying along to the beat. Other times, he's got you pressed up against him; hands gently digging into your hips as you work your ass on him. At one point, he's found himself backed up against the wall, watching intently as you dance on him. He's guiding your movements to the beat, keeping up as you continue. Every time you press your back against him, he leaves a kiss on your neck, hands threatening to roam up your chest and give it a good squeeze.

But, he has to remind himself that he's in public.

That this is all the alcohol getting to him and making him act on his thoughts.

That he's gotta do right by you.

Just.. fuck. It doesn't make it any easier when he gets front row seats to a perfect view of your outfit and everything else about you. He can't help but continue to eye the way your tight, black one-shoulder longsleeve dress falls right below the curve of your ass and the way those strappy heels wrap around your ankles. Yunho keeps thinking about how sexy you look right now, and how much of a goddamn goddess you are.

The way you work him so well.

Your perfume.

Your pretty nail polish.

The way your energy is a match-made in heaven with his.

It's such a turn on.

Especially when the song finishes and you giggle, throwing your arms around his neck lazily while you plant repeated kisses to his lips. One second, he's enjoying the cute intimacy. You've managed to stray a bit from the group, making Yunho feel like he can finally focus on you and you only. His hands are still placed on your hips while you tease away— pecking him sweetly.

The next second, your lips are crashing onto his in a more intense, heated manner; arms still wrapped around his neck while his large hands are now resting on the small of your back to keep you close. He might be drunk, and you might be drunk— the surroundings might not mean shit and this might not make sense at the moment, but what you do know is that it feels like pure bliss to be kissing Yunho. To have him like this.

And he feels the same.

Which is why his hands pull you flush against his body, deepening the moment with every second that passes. His tongue lines your lower lip as a way of asking for permission, smirking into kiss when you push forward and kiss him more eagerly.

With hunger, an edge with desire.

Right now, you two probably look like a bunch of high schoolers just making out at a party cause it's the thing to do. But to you, to Yunho, the outside world and the extra noise doesn't fucking matter.

It's just you and him.

"You're so fucking pretty." He breaks the kiss briefly to say in your ear. "Prettiest birthday girl I've ever seen." He plants hot, open-mouthed kisses below your ear and right down your neck.

"Yunho." The way you softly moan his name is driving him crazy, he can't help but lower his lips down to your neck— leaving a trail of kisses and soft nips against your skin.

"Wish I could take you back with me tonight."

"You could." You bite your lip when you meet his eyes. He cups your cheek and rubs the surface.

"Gotta do this right, love." He places a kiss to your cheek before slipping his hand back in yours. "Wanna head back to the group? We kinda moved pretty far." You laugh and nod.

"Yeah. It was nice to have the alone time, though."

"No lie about that." He follows behind as you lead the way through the crowd, getting back to your brother and all your friends. Your brother and his rowdy ass friends are all loudly singing along, a couple of new faces joining your group to dance along with them. Yunho plops onto the free space next to Mingi on the couch, while Wonwoo comes around to hand you another drink.

"Drink up, sis. The night is young and so are you." You laugh, taking the glass from his hand. "I see you're enjoying yourself." Wonwoo's cheeks are flushed red and he's smirking, throwing an arm around you to speak clearly in your ear. "Just make sure he takes good care of you, okay?"

"Yeah." You nod. "Just feels kinda complicated."

"Why?"

"Seora. Mom." Is all you say. Because yeah, you don't know how Seora or your mom would feel and you'd hate to make them upset. Wonwoo shakes his head and leans forward again.

"Don't worry about it. I'm sure it'll all work out. It'll all play out the way it should." He looks at you. "Let's not worry about that right now, hm? It's your birthday. Keep enjoying yourself." You laugh.

"Thanks, Wonu." Your brother ruffles your hair and begins to dance, causing everyone around you to join in and hype you up. While you're busy with the girls, Wonwoo plops next to Yunho in the free space, sipping on some water while people-watching.

"Thanks for making it out tonight. You made her really happy." He says, turning to Yunho with a smirk. "She was all sad and quiet because she hadn't heard from you today." Yunho laughs.

"Wouldn't miss it."

"Please take care of her and be good to her, alright? Just doing my brotherly duties."

"Course. You have my word." Wonwoo nods before giving his shoulder a squeeze and standing to join his friends again. It isn't long before you find yourself getting tired from all the dancing— plopping onto Yunho's lap when he signals for you to do so. He has his arms wrapped around you while the both of you begin to laugh and flirt around with each other, Mingi and Sian in deep, drunk conversation next to you.

"Where's Noeul?" You gently nudge Sian.

"Girl, I haven't seen her in a minute. Probably out at sea trying to find a man for the night." Sian laughs before returning her attention to Mingi, and now, one of Wonwoo's other friends who has joined the conversation. You continue to look out at the crowd, hoping you can spot Noeul just to make sure she's okay. And, it only takes you about a few seconds before you find a familiar figure.

But, you were not prepared to see her up on Seonghwa like that. Director Yoori's Seonghwa.

"Oh shit." You say, causing Yunho to furrow his brows at you. He squeezes your thigh, making you shift your attention back to him momentarily.

"What's wrong?"

"Noeul." You nod towards her and Seonghwa. Initially, she was dancing on him and it looked pretty harmless. All for fun. Until her hand starts to snake up to his neck while he holds her close. She's dancing against him, their hips moving in synchronized movements; in harmony.

"Oh." Yunho says. "Oh shit." He repeats after you when Noeul walks away, but Seonghwa is quick to pull her back in his arms. This time, she's facing him. He's talking in her ear and she's giggling. Then, she's making the first move and kissing him.

He takes it.

"Uh." Mingi leans forward to catch Yunho's eyes and all they can do is laugh it off, shake their heads. But, yeah. Seonghwa's fucked.

"Okay, atta girl!" Sian yells, cheering them on. Sian is obviously more carefree, goes with the flow. Doesn't think much about any repercussions. Doesn't really care much for them overall. She is good at hyping you up, at being a wing woman, at helping you remember who the fuck you are; but, she could also mean trouble.

There is no grey area, it is either black and white with her.

"Are Seonghwa and Yoori official?" You ask Yunho and he shakes his head.

"No."

"Mm." You hum.

"See, then it's a free for all! It's all for the fun of it!" You all shift your attention back to the two, still handsy with each other. Still playfully locking lips before Noeul pulls back and leads him to the group. She avoids eye contact even though she's subtly nibbling on her lip and blushing, Seonghwa instantly pulling her down on his lap.

Yeah, this was gonna be some shit later on.

But, you guess you can worry about that later. It was still your birthday, and quite frankly, all the fucks you could give were temporarily out the window for the day.

The awkward tension settles and everyone is back to minding their own business and having fun. The bottle girls come over to greet you one more 'happy birthday' with the group, giving you energy to party it out for the last two hours of the night. When everything comes to an end, your feet are hurting, your calves are on fire, and you're reaching the sleepy level of drunk.

But, your heart is full and you're ending your birthday happily having spent it with your loved ones. With Yunho.

"Aye, Y/N! Noeul, Sian! Rally up, ladies!" Your brother says, calling for you and your friends while him and Seokmin stand near the front of the club. Yunho, Seonghwa and Mingi guide you through the crowd, the rest of your friends and Wonwoo's friends already out the door and off to satisfy their drunchies while waving their goodbyes. "Y/N, Sian, Noeul! Roll call!"

"I'm here! Stop yelling!" You yell at Wonwoo, making him and Seokmin laugh while they wait off to the side. "Sure I can't go home with you?" You drunkly pout up at Yunho and he laughs.

"Soon, baby. Plus, you've got the girls and I got them." He quickly looks at the two behind him before turning back to you. "Hope you had fun."

"I did. Thank you guys for coming." You tippy-toe and kiss him on the lips. He continues with repeated soft, sweet kisses to your lips before your brother does another roll-call:

"Yo, for real? In front of me? Come on, now." Yunho laughs a bit and apologizes before kissing you one last time and letting your hand slip from his. Yeah, he hates having to leave you.

"All up in my business for what?!" You playfully push your brother as the five of you make your way to the car. Once everyone is settled, your brother offers to drive to the nearest McDonalds to cure your drunchies. When Wonwoo drops you and the girls off at home, you make an immediate bee-line to the bathroom and take a quick shower before throwing on your pajamas and getting the living room area ready for Noeul and Sian. As soon as everyone is done showering and finally relaxing, the three of you relive the night— making sure to press on Noeul about Seonghwa. She's clearly still drunk and out of it, brushing it off as if it were something that just happened in passing.

But, you know your bestfriend.

You know she'll wake up tomorrow, she'll remember all of this, and she'll already be attached to him.

So, you let her be. You let her live in this moment, you let her take it. But, when the time comes, just like yours will, you'll be there to help her face it. Figure it out together with Sian. You just hope it doesn't backfire terribly on her. At work.

And Yunho is thinking the same when he reads into the situation a bit, too.

They get home, and he quickly peeks over at your parents' home to make sure all looks well. The three of them step in and take their showers to get comfortable and ready for bed. When it's time for them to relax and do their own debriefing, Yunho stands in the kitchen chugging water while Seonghwa and Mingi are getting their blankets onto the couch and the air mattress.

"You and Y/N are cute." Mingi says with a smile. "Like for real. It's nice to see you happy."

"I am happy. She makes me happy."

"Sounds like it's time to make it official."

"Mm." Yunho hums. "Yeah, maybe. I just—" Yunho sighs. "I don't come alone. I come with a package deal. I don't know how she'd feel, and most importantly, I don't know how Seora would take it."

"Ace will be fine. I'm sure it'll be an adjustment, but she'll eventually learn to open her heart to it, too. She wants you to be happy."

"I know. But, it won't be that easy. It can never be that easy." Yunho almost says defeatedly. "Anyway, sorry. I don't really wanna think about it right now. What was up with that?" Him and Mingi look at Seonghwa, causing him to raise a brow.

"Uh, yeah." Mingi laughs and looks at Seonghwa. "What was all that about? With Noeul?"

"I don't know how you're gonna explain this and get out of it." Yunho adds with a tiny chuckle.

"Yeah, I kinda fucked up." Seonghwa rubs his face. "Fuck. Whatever."

"Iono my guy, you looked like you enjoyed it."

"I mean, yeah. I'm not gonna lie about that."

"Time to get your priorities straight." Yunho snorts, taking another big sip of his water to avoid a hangover potentially creeping in tomorrow. "Can't just whatever your way out of this." Seonghwa looks at his phone to the unread texts from Yoori and he feels his heart sink. He's just not sure why, though.

What was the exact reason?

Did his heart sink because he felt bad and he knew he fucked up, or did his heart sink because he felt guilty and knew he was guilty for enjoying it?

"Have you been plotting on her since we walked into the club?"

"I mean, I see her around work, too. She's always been cute."

"Seonghwa." Yunho says with a small chuckle. "You can't keep doing this back and forth with Yoori."

"You're gonna have to decide cause even though you don't have a strict title to whatever you and Yoori have going on, it's clearly pretty deep. You've been spending a lot of time with her, sleeping over. Taking her out on dates."

"I didn't ask to be lectured, okay. I know." Seonghwa scoffs a bit before plopping into the couch and getting comfortable. "Tonight was just for fun."

"What if Noeul didn't feel that way?"

"Well." Is all he says before shutting his eyes.

"This guy." Yunho laughs. "Anyway, goodnight. Thanks for coming along tonight."

"Gonna go text your girl?"

"Yup! The one and only." Yunho teases before heading to his room and shutting the door. The mattress feels divine against his body, sheets keeping him warm and comfortable when he tucks it tightly around his body. He decides to shoot you a quick text, hoping you're resting after a successful and productive birthday.

yunho: you safe and comfortable at home?

you: i am. you? ☺️

yunho: yeah. just wish you were here. maybe i should've whisked you away.

you: yeah. ☹️

you: but i'm glad you came & we made the most out of it. thank you, yunho. ❤️

yunho: you're welcome, beautiful. sleep tight, okay? i'll try and see you before i pick up seora.

you: okay. goodnight, yu.

Yunho smiles to himself, setting his phone on the charger. Just as he's about to lie down and get some shut eye, his eyes land on the photo of him, Eunha and Seora on the nightstand, his smile slowly turning to a frown. His heart drops a bit when he lets out a sigh, but this time, it feels a little different. It doesn't ache and clench like it used to, it doesn't make him feel incredibly empty.

"She makes me happy. Really happy." He says as if Eunha could hear. Maybe she can, maybe she can't. But, all Yunho knows is that maybe, he's making progress.

Maybe, this was the beginning of healing.

Maybe, he'll be ready to let go sooner than later.

⇢taglist: @asjkdk @interweab @woojirang @svintsandghosts @cheolliehugs @persphonesorchid @mxnsxngie @jycas @cowboydk @nopension @curse-of-art @thechaotictheoryy @likexaxdaydream @dalsuwaha @enha-stars @yasuraokaa @professormingisglasses @yunyunrin @pommelex @astral-trashcan @laura1399 @domfikeluva @tournesol155 @hwaskookies @yusalterego @hwa-stars @hyukssunflower @chngbnwf @jaytheatiny @lucid-galaxys-world @chaotic-floral @sofkloster @honeyrecommends @hwashua-luv @luvv4bby @spicxbnny @pandyandy71 @sanniesaurus @angel-hyuckie @wolviejex @purpleyou7x

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laaailuh · 2 years ago

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-TROPHY WIFE🏀

-pairing: basketball player!e42 miles x fem!black!reader

-genre: fluff

-summary: What it’s like to date Visions Academy’s most prominent basketball player.

a/n: After I wrote my fic “He's got a whole fan club” this came into mind. Like cmon, earth 42 miles would totally be a hooper. Also, this is my first time doing headcannons, kinda scared.

a/n 2: For the people who have requested, I haven’t forgotten about you.

MILES MORALES who asks you to braid his hair for him, the day before a game.

MILES MORALES who sneaks you into the locker room just to get some extra time with you.

"I'm going to get in trouble." "Ma chill, the boys aren't even here." "But-" "No buts, I wanna spend some time with my girl before I whoop some niggas asses on the court."

MILES MORALES who gets upset if he sees other guys/players approach you at his game.

“What did he say to you baby?” “He just wanted his water bottle that was beside me.” “Nah, he was tryin’ start something with you.”

MILES MORALES who will go all out and play more aggressively if he knows you'll be there.

MILES MORALES who lets you know if he's at practice so you don't think he's ignoring your texts and calls.

MILES MORALES who makes a shot and says “this one’s for my girl” which most of the time goes in. However, if he misses, his whole team will clown/tease him for it.

“How you gon’ airball in front of y/n man? Straight embarrassing.” “Nigga shut up, I had that on lock.” “Clearly you didn't.”

MILES MORALES who wears a bracelet with your initials on it when he plays, claims it gives him good luck.

MILES MORALES who barely uses his social media but when he does, it's only to post you and his basketball highlights.

MILES MORALES who will reassure you that he is fully and utterly committed to you if you start to feel jealous or annoyed at the amount of female attention he was getting.

“No te preocupes por ellos princesa (don't worry about them princess), you know I only want you.”

Being MILES MORALES girlfriend wasn't easy, a lot of the girls envied or despised you, wishing it was them in your place.

MILES MORALES is never afraid of showing affection towards you in front of a large crowd. This involves kissing, hugging, exchanging small glances and pointing at you when he makes a shot.

MILES MORALES who likes receiving massages to help him unwind and relax after an intense game. Nonetheless, it usually ends in a makeout session due to him not being able to resist you.

“I thought you wanted a massage.” “I did but it aint' enough.” “So what is?” “Kissing you mami.”

MILES MORALES can be a sore loser if he doesn't win a game. If his team gets defeated, he will most likely go see you straight after because you're the only person that can properly comfort him.

MILES MORALES who likes to take you to the basketball court late at night. Instead of a traditional dinner or movie date, you often find yourselves shooting hoops or playing one-on-one games together.

MILES MORALES who likes to talk/think about the future with you.

“When I make it pro, you don't gotta worry bout a thing anymore.” “What do you mean?” “I’m gonna take care of you baby. Anything you want, it's yours.”

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epicbuddieficrecs · 2 months ago

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Weekly Recap | January 6th-19th 2025

I hope everyone had a good start of the year! You're getting two weeks of fics because ¯\_(ツ)_/¯ Enjoy!

Complete

Buck Naked by disasterbuck/ @disasterbuck (Getting Together | <1K | Teen): Buck turned, slicking his wet hair back, and then yelped and covered himself comically with his hands when he saw Eddie standing there. "Eddie!" he exclaimed, his face turning red. "I'm naked!" "Obviously," Eddie replied. - Eddie finds it difficult to talk about his feelings because it always leaves him far too vulnerable and exposed. So, when he finally decides it's time to tell Buck how he feels, he has a plan to get them both on equal footing.

Wish you'd ask me (If I wanna be your baby) by paleredheadinascifi (Getting Together | 2K | Teen): “So, uh, you come here often?” “Do I come here often?” Buck repeats slowly. He does come here often. As does Eddie. They both come here all the time, at the same time, together. Or, why ask someone out on a date when you can just take them on one without their knowledge? Sounds flawless to Eddie.

the long way back by jaekyu (PWP, Post-S8 AU | 6K | Explicit): Eddie and Buck get trapped in a closet. There's a joke in here somewhere.

I want you so (god must be the greatest comedian I know) by paleredheadinascifi (Post-S8A, Eddie Moves to Texas | 6K | Teen): But that’s Eddie. You knew all that. You knew we’d find him sitting alone, in his rented, unfurnished house in El Paso, Texas — equally 7 and 700 miles away from the only places he’d ever call home, the only people he’d ever call family. You probably also knew, because you’re more observant than Eddie, and I mentioned it at the start, that Eddie Diaz was in the middle of a sexuality crisis that he swears came out of nowhere. We’re gonna let him have it, because he’s going through a lot right now. Eddie is learning, as many do, that there are five stages of the sexuality crisis. When we find him sitting alone in his sad unfurnished house, he’s freshly greeting stage one.

I'll be His and He'll be Mine by xylodemon/ @xylodemon (Post-S8 Future Fic, Friends to Fiancés | 6K | Explicit) "And now, in as much as you, Evan Buckley and Edmundo Diaz, have given and pledged your love and faithfulness, each to the other, and have declared the same by joining hands, by virtue of the authority vested in me by the State of California as Deputy Marriage Commissioner, I now pronounce you spouses for life." "You're crying." "You're crying." Christopher sighs under his breath. "You're both crying."

Do I Get To Have This? by EiraLloyd (Post-Poker Game Date, Getting Together | 6K | Teen): Their missing clothes and the fact that Eddie was currently using him as a human pillow were the only evidence that Buck's memories of the night before were real. Wildly, his first thought after replaying everything in his head was, This is not good one-night stand etiquette. I should’ve left already. “You’re thinking too loud,” Eddie mumbled, breath ghosting over Buck’s collarbone in a way that reminded him a lot of dim lights and couches and I’ve wanted to do this all night. (Alternatively, Buck and Eddie hook up after the poker game in 6x13, and Buck has a hard time believing it when he wakes up the next morning.)

Hopelessly Devoted To You by scarmaddiewrites (Friends to Fiancés | 7K | Teen): “Eddie’s breath caught in his throat. He felt his heart lurch in his chest, and he didn’t know why. He had no idea what he was planning to say—Good morning, maybe, or How was your night? Something normal, something casual. But when Buck looked up at him, that grin growing impossibly wider, his blue eyes sparkling like the ocean, Eddie blurted out something entirely unexpected.” Or Eddie goes from 0-100 real quick

can't hide from you by EiraLloyd (Post-S6E12: Recovery, Getting Together | 7K | Teen): Eddie keeps smiling at his phone like a lovesick fool whenever a certain person messages him. Hen, Chimney, Pepa, and Christopher all want to know when Eddie started dating again and who his new girlfriend is. (Or, three times someone wrongly assumes Eddie is texting a girlfriend when it’s just Buck, and one time someone rightly assumes Eddie is texting a boyfriend (and it’s Buck).)

the phone keeps ringing by EiraLloyd (Post-S7 AU, BuckTommy Break-Up, Buddie Getting Together | 7K | Teen): “Took you long enough,” she says in an icy tone. Her name tag reads Dot. “Do you usually make your boyfriend wait for you overnight?” “I’m not his boyfriend,” he says, voice equally icy. “I’m the guy who drove five hours to pick him up when the boyfriend—” ditched him. He manages to swallow back the words, not wanting to air Buck’s business to a stranger, but he can’t help but think, If I were Buck’s boyfriend, this wouldn’t have happened at all. (Or, after a date with Tommy goes wrong, Buck ends up stranded in Las Vegas without a way home. Eddie makes the drive in the middle of the night because there's never really been another option.)

I Know They’ll Be Coming To Find Me Soon by scarmaddiewrites (Post-S8A Spec, Kidnapping | 10K | Teen): The day Buck is supposed to drop Eddie off at the airport, he’s doesn’t show, and Eddie takes that as a sign that their friendship was over. That just doesn’t end up being the case. Or The Buck gets kidnapped season 8b speculation fic

Love Me Most by EiraLloyd (Post-S7E5: You Don't Know Me | 11K | Teen): Or, Eddie’s not impressed that Buck and Tommy’s first date was supposed to be dinner and a movie. He thinks he can come up with something more creative, and he takes Buck on a date to prove his point. It’s a fake date, obviously. It’s not like he’s in love with Buck or anything.

🔥 Next to your heartbeat, where I should be by rainbow_nerds/ @rainbow-nerdss (Post-S8E8: Wannabes, Sexting | 11K | Explicit): Eddie’s not a complete idiot. He knows this isn’t normal. He stands in front of a mirror in his underwear, the tightest pair he owns, and he poses for a picture at an angle he’s learned flatters his ass and the curve of his thigh, to send to his best friend. He knows this isn’t what most best friends do. He also knows most straight guys don’t spend extensive amounts of time staring at men’s thirst trap accounts, or thinking about how their best friends look half-naked, but… That’s not what Eddie is focusing on right now. He’s just focusing on feeling good, following the path that sparkles with joy, and refusing to overthink it. If happiness is Buck sending a meme of a guy with a nosebleed back to his shirtless selfie, then that’s what happiness is. Eddie has spent too long denying himself to let this be what stops his journey towards loving himself. It doesn’t need to make sense. It just needs to be positive. It’s not like he’s breaking any commandments, as Father Brian would say.

🔥 Kept On Swimming by EiraLloyd (Time Loop, Tsunami | 12K | Mature): He just needs someone to know that he tried. He needs someone to acknowledge that—that he did everything he could, and—and he tried. He might’ve failed, but he tried. He tried, he tried, he tried, he tried— Eddie swallows and asks, “How many times?” Buck stares. He lived through it once; that’s normal. He lived through it twice; maybe a déjà-vu or a hallucination of some kind or even a premonition. But three times— It has to be a time loop. Surely. (Or, Buck is trapped in a time loop on the day the Santa Monica Pier is hit by a tsunami. He makes it count.)

🔥 the forms of things unknown by glorious_spoon/ @glorious-spoon (Sex Pollen, PWP | 13K | Explicit): Buck's mind goes blank: suddenly and perfectly blank like a briskly shaken Etch A Sketch, the tracks of his thoughts swept clean. Eddie's mouth is on his. Eddie's nose bumps his nose, and his stubble rasps, and Eddie is kissing him. And this is probably a bad idea. The thought surfaces briefly. This is probably a bad idea. They don't do this. They haven't talked about this. Until thirty seconds ago, he was perfectly certain that Eddie was straight.

The Elephant in the Room Never Forgets by exvichan (Post-S8A AU, Camping Trip, Getting Together | 19K | Teen): Secrets are spilled and truths brought to light when the 118 and their partners go on a camping trip. Oh, and there’s malaphors. Lots of malaphors.

🔥 the sweetest apparition by hyruling/ @hyruling (Post-S8E8: Wannabes, Eddie Moves to Texas | 20K | Explicit): Buck glances over his shoulder and smiles. “Sorry, lost in thought.” “I would be too looking at a man that handsome,” she says with a glance at his phone as they move up. “Your partner?” Buck feels his cheeks heat. What the hell – Eddie isn’t here to hear him, probably wouldn’t care anyway. It’s easier than explaining the truth to this stranger. “Yeah.” “And he sent you to do all the Christmas shopping alone?” she teases with a grin. “Oh, no he’s, uh – he’s gone.” --- Or: Eddie moves to Texas. Buck keeps accidentally telling people Eddie's dead. It goes about as well as you'd expect.

waiting for it (that green light) by pinkdoughnut (Drinking Games, Getting Together | 26K | General): “You don’t need to explain yourself,” Buck assured him, wishing more than ever that he could crawl out of his own skin. “I didn’t mean to push. I was just going along with the game—” “No, it just wasn’t meant to be like this,” Eddie groaned out finally. Buck sucked in a sharp breath, freezing in his step. “Like this?” Buck repeated carefully as he tilted his head slightly. “What… what does that mean?” - Or, Buck and Eddie finally realize they can’t keep pretending during a game of True American.

🔥 Finding Mr Christmas by JJK/@trenchcoatsandtimetravel (Canon Divergent, Reality TV, Christmas | 63K | Teen): "Welcome to Finding Mr Christmas! You’re all here chasing the same dream, to star in a Hallmark Christmas movie, and over the next few weeks we’re going to be putting you through your paces to see which of you has the most star quality and that ‘it’ factor that makes you shine above the rest." 🎄🎄🎄 An AU where Buck and Eddie meet as contestants on Hallmark's Finding Mr Christmas competition (and fall for each other).

WIP

🔥 there is no road by littleghost/ @ghostlandtoo (Post-S8A, Eddie moves to Texas | 4/6 | 58K | Explicit): Years ago, almost a full decade, Shannon had asked him to move and Eddie refused because he was trying to build a life for himself again. Eddie knows if he asks Buck, he’ll get that same refusal. Worse, Buck could say yes and Eddie would be uprooting Buck from the very life he built for himself. He doesn’t ask, and Buck doesn’t offer, and they pack up Eddie Diaz’s life in Los Angeles into cardboard boxes. Or: Eddie moves to Texas. Buck buys his house. There’s a love story somewhere in here.

🔥 Things We're All Too Young to Know by Daisies_and_Briars/ @cal-daisies-and-briars (Canon S1-S6, Divergent Post-S6 | 143/145 | 463K | Mature): This is a love story. Even if it doesn’t always look like it. Even if it doesn’t always feel like it. A look back on Eddie and Buck's lives up to now, and what led them to each other, interpreted from the current 9-1-1 canon.

🔥 Gentle On My Mind by Daisies_and_Briars/ @cal-daisies-and-briars (Canon Divergent, Shannon Lives, Buck/Eddie/Shannon | 11/? | 69K | Explicit): In which Shannon lives, tells a lie, and sends hers, Eddie's, and Buck's lives down a very different path.

🔥 Firelight by Daisies_and_Briars/ @cal-daisies-and-briars (Canon Divergent, Post-S7, Monster Eddie, HOH Buck | 8/10 | 47K | Explicit): When, in the worst of missing Christopher, Eddie suddenly finds himself having literally turned into a monster, Buck - who is also dealing with a newfound hearing loss diagnosis - is willing to do anything to protect him. Even from himself. OR: Eddie is a creature from Swedish folklore, feat. HOH!Buck

[Podfic] What's love got to do with it? by Pretzel26 // fic by ColorMeParanoid/ @color-me-paranoid (Platonic Boyfriends to Lovers | 2/30 | 10-20min | Mature): "Hear me out," Buck said. "Clearly, both of us are sick of dating other people. And we're a good fit, in pretty much every way that matters. So what if we're not in love? We don't need to be in love to be happy together." Eddie frowned. "So basically, we'd be boyfriends, without benefits?" "Yes!" Buck snapped his fingers. "Like platonic boyfriends! We'd get all the benefits of a relationship and none of the heartbreak." And maybe Eddie had finally lost his mind, or maybe it was from all the alcohol clouding his judgment, but the idea of it didn't sound half as crazy as it should have. *** After Buck’s and Eddie’s dates both end with disasters – proving once again that maybe dating just wasn’t meant for them – they decide to simply settle for each other. If there was one person in the world they'd ever trust with their hearts, it was each other. And who was a better person to date other than your very own best friend?

Podfic

[podfic] Starlight by half_bakedboy/ @half-bakedboy (Post-S7, Gewtting Together | 20-30min | General): On a rare, starry summer night, Buck and Eddie discuss what ifs and make decisions about their future.

🔥 [Podfic] rainbows have nothing to hide by slipofthetongue/ @burnthatbridge for hattalove/ @hattalove (Getting Together | 20-30 min | Teen): how is eddie diaz like kermit the frog? let buck and christopher count the ways. (Part 1 of the kermit verse)

🔥 [Podfic] Before the Night Fades by slipofthetongue/ @burnthatbridge // fic by MilenaDaniels/ @milenadaniels (Post-S4E14: Survivors, Outsider POV | 45-60 min | Teen): “I have a bottle of champagne, four champagne flutes, one engagement ring to go into one of those champagne flutes, and a note to deliver it all to table 34 with dessert,” Tomas explains, wide-eyed, throwing his hand back to the prep station where said champagne is waiting on ice next to four flutes and a small ring box. “Okay?” “Okay so there’s two men and two women and I have no idea who’s getting proposed to. I’m not even 100% on who came with who." --- Or, EddieAna and BuckTaylor double date and it ruins everyone's night.

[Podfic] We're In This Together Now by fleurdebeton // fic by kristen999/ @thekristen999 (Major Character Injury | 20-30min | Not Rated): It was like walking into the world’s more confusing chemistry lab. There were long tables crowded with glassware, cookware, funnels, propane tanks, and tubing. Industrial sized glass bottles filled with various liquids were haphazardly scattered across the room. Eddie stared while Buck cautiously walked around one of the tables. They were inside a freaking meth lab. No, they were inside a ticking time bomb. Any of the bottles or barrels could contain any number of risks. Solvents, metals, bases, acids… “Looks like someone’s seen too many episodes of Breaking Bad,” Buck whispered.

[podfic] Starlight by half_bakedboy/ @half-bakedboy // fic by ElvenSorceress/ @elvensorceress (Post-S7,Getting Together | 20-30min | General): On a rare, starry summer night, Buck and Eddie discuss what ifs and make decisions about their future.

🔥 [Podfic] Breathe by slipofthetongue/ @burnthatbridge // fic by kitkatpancakestack/ @kitkatpancakestack (Different First Meeting AU | 3-3.5h | Mature): After Eddie Diaz has a breakdown in the middle of a grocery store, he's forced to face the fact that he might not be dealing with his PTSD as well as he thought. At the urging of his aunt, he leaves to spend the summer in a small California beach town, where he meets a bright-eyed, blond-haired surf instructor who reminds him what it feels like to be alive.

Re-Read

#epic buddie fic rec #buddie #buddie fic #buddie fic rec #buddie fanfic #buddie fanfiction

226 notes · View notes

imaginespazzi · 6 months ago

Note

Golden Hour is so so good! I love the way you’re taking the story, I’m obsessed with the way they just need each other like you write it so perfectly. And honestly it’s how they seem in real life, just so entwined.

I don’t want to ask but if you have the time and it won’t delay golden hour updates... Can you write a chaotic family Drabble of the girls teasing Azzi and Paige for essentially soft launching the last few weeks. You just write them so perfectly! Hope you’re planning to be a writer one day!

Thank you lovie <3

Do I have time? In theory no but I found about 40 minutes to cook this up (this is my way of justifying the lack of editing) and it's probably more sappy than chaotic but I hope you enjoy it anyways my love. Let me know if it lived up to what you wanted :)

Paige lets out a soft sigh as she turns the ignition off, parking her car in the team apartments parking lot. It's almost one in the morning and the tired is practically vibrating from her body but she'd been determined to get them back to school tonight in time for classes tomorrow morning. She can't help the soft smile that flitters across her face as she looks over at the passenger seat. Azzi's head is leaned against the window, mouth slightly open as she hugs Paige's sweater closer to her body like a blanket. The younger girl had managed to keep her eyes awake for about an hour, tiredly responding to her girlfriend's chatter with one-word inputs until Paige had looked over after asking a question and found Azzi completely knockd out

She had heavily debated waking her up but ultimately decided against it, knowing that it was well past the shooting guard's bedtime and as cute as she found Azzi's cranky grumbling when she was woken up, she thinks the girl probably deserved her sleep after the weekend they'd had.

The weekend.

Truthfully Paige is a little sad for the weekend to come to an end. She's going to miss the privacy of their hotel suite and she's really going to miss seeing her girlfriend all dressed up every day (even if she's not going to miss the way other people had, had the audacity to ogle at what's hers). God it had been perfect; everything Paige had wanted to be. The experience itself had been wonderful but the best part of it was that she'd gotten to live it out with her girlfriend, her person, her Azzi. Whether it was sitting next to her at the fashion shows or sitting across from her at the Liberty game, they'd been together and that's all that had mattered.

Paige knows that there's people who will look at their weekend and still use the just friends moniker; knows that until she and Azzi publicly label themselves, there'll always be people who'll be willfully ignorant of what they are. But still, this weekend -this summer really- had felt different. And maybe it's because they're a little different now but something about it had felt cathartically freeing. It makes her hopeful for what's come in the future, when they can shed this barrier of being teammates and just be who they really are to each other. She can't wait.

"Baby," Paige whispers, slightly shaking Azzi, "we're here."

The other girl let's out a groan, slinking further into herself without opening her eyes, "shhh Paige, I'm tryna sleep."

Laughing to herself, Paige lets herself out of the car before walking around to open the door to the passenger side, leaning down towards Azzi, "c'mon big head, you gotta get up so we can go to bed."

"I'm already in bed," Azzi says petulantly, eyes still closed.

"Azzi..."

"Paige.'

The blonde lets out a fond sigh, "you leave me no other choice Fudd."

"Wha-" Azzi squeals when Paige lifts her out of the car, using her waist to push the door in behind them, "oh my god Paige let me down. You're gonna drop me."

Adjusting the weight in her arms slightly, Paige smirks as she starts walking towards the apartment door, "I am way too strong to drop you."

"Oh my god the edits have gone to you head," Azzi groans dramatically, tightening her arms around the blonde's neck, "you're going to drop me and I'm going to die. I'm too young to die Paige."

"You have no faith in me," Paige guffaws, even if she's slightly struggling to get up the three steps that lead up to the door.

"Paige let me down," Azzi whines again.

"You sure about that princess?" Paige asks, a slightly devious plan forming in her mind as she finally makes into the soft fluffy mat right outside the door.

"Yes."

"Okay," Paige says with a shrug as she lets Azzi go, the younger girl falling on the rug with a slight thud.

"OW WHAT THE FUCK?"

"You asked me to let you go."

"Not like that," Azzi growls, rubbing her hips slightly as she gets up and shoves at Paige, "enjoy sleeping by yourself."

Paige's eyes widen as she watches Azzi open the apartment door and saunter towards the elevator.

"Oh hey wait, wait, wait, I'm sorry," Paige has to run to catch up to the younger girl, engulfing her from behind as she presses slobbery open mouthed kisses over every inch of her that she can touch, "I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I'm sorry. Please don't make me sleep alone."

"Ew stop," Azzi crinkles her nose, half-heartedly pushing Paige away.

"I'm sorry. Pleeeeeease," Paige begs as the two of them wait for the elevator, "besides I'm sure you can't fall asleep without me either."

"Oh you're sure are you?" Azzi teases, yawning slightly as the doors ding and open and the two of them step inside.

"I know you can't," Paige grins, nuzzling her face in the younger girl's neck as she presses the button for Paige's floor, making no attempt to press the one for hers as well, "see?"

"Shut up," Azzi blushes slightly, "it's only because I don't wanna deal with Ice in the morning."

"Sure it is," Paige sing-songs before her face morphs into something more serious and she presses her forehead against her girlfriends, "I had a really good time this weekend."

Azzi's eyes soften, "it was pretty great huh?"

"The greatest," Paige confirms, brushing their lips together, "I love you."

"I love you too."

***

Much to Azzi's chagrin -and to Paige's slight amusement though she won't dare say it- she does have to deal with Ice the next morning. And worse than that, she has to deal with KK.

"GOOD MOOOOOORNING LOVEBIRDS," a loud voice echoes way to early in the morning.

Azzi cranks one eye open about cuss somebody out when KK jumps onto their bed, tiny body creating such an impact that it has both her and Paige practically jolting up.

"Morning sunshines," KK grins happily as Ice snickers from where she's leaning against the wall, "y'all done with your world tour?"

"What the fuck is wrong with you?" Paige asks groggily.

"What's wrong with us? US?" KK's voice is as loud as always, "y'all abandon your kids-"

"Again," Azzi says exasperatedly, "y'all aren't actually our ki-"

"EXCUSE ME?" KK recoils before turning dramatically to Ice, "did you hear that Icey? She said we're not her kids."

"That's so mean of you Azzi," Ice pouts, "you practically abandons us for a decade-"

"It was one week-"

"A DECADE! And now-" Ice fake whimpers, "and now you're saying we're not even your kids? What kind of parents even are you?"

"The kind who aren't parents?" Paige says coyly only tfor KK to throw a pillow at her face, "seriously?"

"I cannot believe this," the Wisconsinite shakes her head, "first you abandon us," she glares at the two of them in a warning to not interrupt her, "and now, when we come in here to finally spend some time with y'all, do you welcome your children with open arms? OH NO. No you don't. Instead you make us feel like you don't even love us. Y'all are SICK."

"So SICK," Ice choruses and Azzi narrows her eyes at them.

"Y'all came in here to spend time us?" she asks slowly, "really?"

"Are you accusing us of having other intentions?"

"Well-"

"Oh my god," KK jumps of the bed, fixing them with an offended stare, "can't two children just want to see their parents?"

"Not when it's the two of you."

"I CANNOT BELIEVE-"

"KK," Jana's voice interrupts from outside the door, "is it time for us to come in yet?"

Paige looks between the door and KK and Ice's caught-out face as Azzi buries her head into her hands, "what are y'all up to?"

"Fucking El-Alfy ruining the plan," KK grumbles under her breath as she steps outside and the noise of bickering echoes through Paige's door.

"When we have actual children, we're never letting these idiots babysit," Azzi says softly as she leans her head back against Paige's shoulder.

Something beautiful blooms in Paige's chest as she kisses a smile into Azzi's shoulder. It's the way Azzi says it, the way she talks about them having their own children, like it's an inevitability, like forever means each other.

"Whatever you say baby," she whispers.

"Can you guys stop being gross for one second," Ice chides from the corner, "a whole fucking weekend together and still being this sappy has got to be a crime or something."

"A crime of passion," Paige says airily, relishing the way it elicits a giggle from Azzi.

"What the fuck?" there's a look of disgust on Ice's face as she studies the two of them, "that wasn't even that funny Azzi."

"I thought it was," Azzi shrugs, smiling as she turns her head to press her lips to Paige's cheek.

"Oh my god y'all get the fuck in here," Ice calls out, "they're being sickeningly cute in here again and I feel like I'm suffocating."

Unable to help their curiosity at what shenanigans their teammates come children are up to, Paige and Azzi can't help but look towards the door. Their mouths fall open as KK and Jana wheel in one of the whiteboards from the lobby, Sarah diligently following in from behind them. On the whiteboard is a series of cutout photos of the two of them taken from the weekend. A large hand-drawn paper sign hangs right above the photos: THE PAZZI SOFT LAUNCH tm.

"Ta-da," KK and Jana flail their hands as they present the board to the two gaping girls on the bed, bowing dramatically, "we made you guys this. Isn't it amazing?"

"It was my idea," Sarah juts out her chest proudly.

"It was not. I was the one who said wouldn't it be cool if we could show them how disgustingly stupid in love they looked all weekend," Jana glares at the freshman.

"Right but it was my idea to make the poster board," Sarah defends.

"Girl boo. I'm the one who came up with the title so it was really my idea," KK chirps in.

"All three of you needa take several steps back," Ice warns, "because who was the one who actually made this whole thing?"

"Me," all 6 of them turn to the doorway to see Caroline standing there with an exasperated look on her face, "I did all the cutting and glue-"

"You were in on this?" Azzi asks, "what happened to being the sensible one?"

"I am sensible," Caroline defends herself sheepishly, "but you know I love a good arts and crafts project and you didn't see them Az. They were failing miserably-"

"WE WERE NOT!"

"YOU WERE GLUING THE PICTURES UPSIDE DOWN-"

"ONLY SARAH WAS DOING THAT."

"DON'T THROW ME UNDER THE BUS LIKE THAT."

"ALL OF Y'ALL SHUT UP," Paige bellows and Azzi immediately flinches away from her.

"Ow Paige," she whines, rubbing deftly at her hear, "that hurt my ears."

"Sorry baby," Paige coos, pulling the younger girl back in to her arms and apologetically kissing her cheek as suddenly forgets why she'd needed to yell in the first place.

"SEE," Ice cuts, "this is why we needed to make the board. Y'all are so atrociously down bad and if we have to see how sickening it is, so do you."

"I think it's kinda sweet these dumbasses have finally figured it out," Caroline says with a smile.

"Nobody asked for your opinion-" KK grumbles as Paige sulks.

"We are not dumbasses," she says indignantly,unable to help herself from smiling when Azzi kisses the pout off of her face.

"Oh my god," Sarah gags as she looks at the rest of their teammates, "do they ever stop being disgusting?"

She's met with a chorus of "no"s from the rest of the girls in the room who've had to put up with Paige and Azzi for longer than she has.

"Y'all have a lot of nerve coming into our room and then calling us out for what we do in it," Azzi scolds.

"This is NOT your room," Jana corrects.

Paige glares at her as she tightens her grip around Azzi, "don't listen to them baby. My room is your room."

"Fucking hell. Y'all are hopeless," the Egyptian groans, "I give up. Congratulations on the soft launch or whatever. We're all very happy for you."

Azzi splutters, a series of indiscernible noises waterfalling from her lips, "we did NOT soft launch."

"Really?" Ice cocks her forehead, "so this," she gestures to the whiteboard filled with incriminating pictures, "this just looks like a completely normal best-friends kinda weekend to you?"

"Yes," Azzi replies stubbornly.

"Seriously?" Jana points to a series of pictures taken of the two of them practically pressed into each other at two of the fashions shows; there's a noticeable difference in how much space there is between them and the people on their other sides in comparison to the lack of air between the two of them, "y'all sit this close to all of y'alls friends like this?"

"Of course-"

"Hey," Paige wails, "who else do you sit that close to?"

"Not the time," Azzi hisses to her girlfriend, "I'm trying to prove something."

"Prove what? That y'all look at everybody like this?" KK smirks as she points to a set of images of them basically cheesing at each other like lovesick fools.

"That doesn't count as a soft launch-"

"Baby it does look a little bit like one-"

"Shut up Paige," Azzi scowls, digging her elbow into her girlfriend's stomach, "it doesn't count because it's not like we meant to do it-"

"So what you're saying is you accidentally soft launched then?" Sarah raises an eyebrow.

"That's not- I mean-" Azzi struggles to form a coherent sentences as Paige laughs into her shoulder, "your a freshman. Shouldn't you be nicer to your upperclassmen or something?"

"AHA!" KK cheers as she high-fives Sarah "deflecting because you can't deny it. Good job freshie!"

"I AM NOT-"

"Baby," Paige says softly, barely concealing her smile captures Azzi's chin between her fingers to turn her face towards her, "let it go. They're right."

"They're not-" Azzi huffs.

"Yes they are-"

"Well they don't need to know," Azzi says petulantly as she glowers at the other occupants of the room.

Jana regards her with an amused expression, "you know we can hear you right?"

Paige sighs, annoyed at having to look away from her girlfriend as she rounds on the rest of her teammates, "alright y'all made your point. Now will you get the fuck out?"

"That is no way to talk to you children," KK says as she crosses her arms across her chest.

"Ooooh," Sarah grins, "wait does this mean I'm one of your children too?"

"For the nth time-" Azzi begins but Paige covers her mouth with her hands, not wanting to start another bickering session that would inevitable prolong her not getting alone time in bed with her girlfriend.

"We'll think about it," she tells the freshman, a little touched when it seems to make Sarah gleam with happiness, "now please," she gestures to the door.

"Kicking us out so y'all can be all mush-gushy in peach eugh," Ice scrunches her face with disgust, "at least tell us y'all got us gifts or something."

"Even if we did you're definitely not getting them now," Azzi snarls at them.

"So what you're telling me is that there's definitely gifts," Jana says excitedly, "ugh I knew y'all would come through."

"Here," Paige points to both of their suitcases parked against the wall, "how about y'all take those and go to the living room and take whatever y'all want-"

"Wait no-"

"Will you be quiet for one second," Paige pinches Azzi's arms before smiling at the younger girls in the room, "all yours guys!"

KK narrows her eyes at the blonde, "this feels like a bribe-"

"Who cares Kamorea. She's giving us expensive free shit, don't argue," Jana chides as she starts to pull KK out of the room, Sarah following excitedly behind them.

"That's kinda low of you," Ice says with a disappointed look towards both of them, "but hey," she shrugs as she begins to follows the others, "if it belongs to my parents, technically it belongs to me."

"Well played Bueckers," Caroline, the last person remaining, smile as she moves to wheel the whiteboard out with her.

"WAIT," both Paige and Azzi yell in sync before shyly looking at each other.

"You can um-" Paige licks her lips, "you can leave that. It's kinda cute."

"I lied," Caroline shakes her head but does as she's told, "you guys aren't sweet because this," she points between the two of them and the whiteboard as she begins to move backwards, "this is just sickening behavior."

"Y'all are just jealous of our love," Paige calls out, ignoring the chorus of protests that she gets in return, happy to finally have the room back to just her and Azzi.

"So," the younger girl says carefully, as she turns herself around to straddle Paige's hips.

"So," Paige whispers back, hands resting on Azzi's waist as the other girl brushes a strand of blond hair out of her face.

"I think we might have accidentally soft-launched a little bit," Azzi says shyly, nibbling at her bottom lip.

"Accidentally," Paige grins as she nuzzles their noses together.

And as the sunlight peeks in through the window and the cacophony of their teammates excitedly unpacking their presents drifts in from the living room, Paige holds Azzi closer to her chest, and she lets herself think of what it'll be like when they hard launch. On purpose, this time.

#ask #pazzi #paige bueckers #azzi fudd #i feel like these drabbles always end up so brain vomit-y lmao #also endings? idk how to write those.#apparently this is ~ 3k words too like i'm not sure how that happened ngl

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