#and also the time that made me think of this it wasn’t even me asking the question so there’s that

[pbaz7]

FLIGHT 2136: PART 2

paige x azzi

warning: sexual content

word count: 12.8k

A/N: Whewww. This was a little fun but also a little stressful to write. It’s a little different from what I’ve done. I feel like I wanna make this a few more parts lowkey🫣. Please let me know what you think and leave live reacts if you can 🫶🏼🫶🏼 Also I rushed a little so let me know if I made mistakes lol

—————————————————————————

3rd Person POV - Thursday

The energy in the gym was steady, the familiar rhythm of shootaround settling everyone into their pregame routines. UConn’s team moved through drills under CD’s watchful eye, the absence of Geno noted but not dwelled upon much. It wasn’t unusual for him to step away, and CD kept everything running just as smoothly in his place.

Azzi focused on her shots, the repetition grounding her as she moved from mid-range to three-point territory. The sound of sneakers squeaking and basketballs bouncing filled the air, teammates calling out to each other as they cycled through drills. It felt like any other game day prep. The energy was great, everyone was excited. Then Geno walked in.

Azzi’s eyes flicked toward the entrance automatically, expecting to see him stride in alone. Instead, he wasn’t alone.

Paige was with him.

Azzi paused mid-shot, the ball bouncing off the rim as her brows pulled together. Across the court, Geno and Paige spoke casually, their body language familiar. They weren’t just exchanging pleasantries—this was a conversation that carried a purpose.

Next to her, KK caught the shift in Azzi’s focus and followed her gaze.

"Why is Paige Bueckers here?" KK asked, her voice filled with curiosity.

Azzi turned her head slightly. "You know her?"

KK gave her a look like the question was ridiculous. "You don't?"

Azzi’s expression remained blank.

KK scoffed. "Girl, boo. I forgot you don’t ever watch the sport we play.” She shook her head before continuing. “Paige was one of the top players in the country in high school. From Minnesota. She could’ve gone anywhere she wanted. UConn wanted her bad—but then she kinda just… disappeared. Didn’t commit anywhere on signing day.”

Azzi’s gaze was still locked on the other side of the court, where Geno and Paige had now settled onto the bench chairs, talking still. Paige was nodding at something Geno said as she stared ahead, seemingly just looking at the opposite wall.

Azzi shifted on her feet, arms crossing slightly. “And now she’s here. With Geno.”

"Right," KK echoed, before smirking. “Maybe she’s your competition.”

Azzi didn’t look away from Paige as she said, “If anything, she’s your competition.”

KK turned to her, eyebrows raising high at the comment. “What are you talking about?”

Azzi finally glanced at her. “She’s a point guard.”

KK gave her a look, silently asking how she knew that.

Azzi just shook her head, a small smile playing on her lips, as if she was saying, Don’t worry about it.

KK scoffed but didn’t press further, turning back to the drill as their turn approached. Azzi followed suit, refocusing on her shot, but the energy in the gym had shifted.

The rest of the team, while going through the motions, kept stealing glances toward the other side of the court. Even CD, usually unshakable in her focus, seemed slightly aware of the presence of Geno and Paige, though she didn’t acknowledge it outright.

Azzi stole one last glance toward the two of them. Paige was leaning forward slightly now, elbows resting on her knees, nodding along to whatever Geno was saying. There was something about her demeanor—poised but entirely at ease—that kept Azzi’s attention longer than she intended.

“Yo, Azzi pay attention,” Ice called, bouncing the ball toward her.

Azzi caught it smoothly, exhaling through her nose. “Yeah, yeah.”

Once shoot-around was over and CD finished speaking with the girls Geno walked toward them with his usual commanding presence, but this time, all eyes were drawn to the taller figure trailing just behind him. Paige moved with an easy confidence, hands tucked into the pockets of her sweats, her expression unreadable as she just stared ahead at nothing in particular.

Azzi barely registered the murmurs spreading through the team when her eyes locked onto Paige’s. And for the first time since their conversations, Paige didn’t wear that usual smirk. Instead, there was something quieter, more measured, in the way she held her gaze. Azzi could practically see the questions flying through her own mind reflected back at Paige—What are you doing here? Why didn’t you say anything?

The confusion hung in the air until Geno cut straight through it. “Paige is here unofficially on a visit,” he announced, his tone gruff, leaving little room for argument. “She’s just here watching the game today since we can’t do anything official with her during the season.”

A ripple of uncertainty moved through the team. Visits happened, sure—but not like this. Not during the middle of the season. And definitely not for someone with the kind of presence Paige had just walking into the gym.

The silence stretched before Nika finally spoke up, respectful but with a tinge of frustration. “Coach, we already have a point guard for next season.”

Azzi’s eyes flickered back to Paige just in time to see her take a deep breath, her shoulders squaring as if she had already braced herself for this exact reaction. She didn’t look surprised though. God Azzi hated how stoic she could be, she can never get a good read on her.

The tension in the gym thickened slightly as Nika’s words settled. Some of their glances jumping between Nika and KK. Paige stayed composed, her expression not changing much, but Azzi noticed the way her fingers twitched slightly in her pockets, as if resisting the urge to react or say something.

Geno didn’t miss a beat in his response. “Nika’s leaving after this season,” he stated plainly, his tone making it clear this wasn’t about to be a conversation up for debate. “We need an older guard to help guide KK next season because she isn’t where we need her to be just yet.

Azzi’s eyes immediately flickered to Nika, whose jaw tensed at the comment. She didn’t say anything—didn’t need to—but the slight shift in her stance spoke volumes. She prided herself on being KK’s mentor, on leading the backcourt the best she could. The idea that Geno thought they needed someone else didn’t sit right with her.

But before anyone could voice anything further, Geno sighed, sensing the weight in the room. “Look, nothing is official,” he added, glancing around. “South Carolina, LSU, USC, Minnesota, and a few others all want her to visit, too. They all jumped at the chance once they heard she was transferring.”

That got a reaction. Some players exchanged looks, while others side-eyed Paige, as if reassessing her entirely. It wasn’t just UConn she was considering—it was powerhouse programs across the country.

Paige, for her part, remained unreadable, her expression neutral as she took the reaction in stride. Her not saying a word the entire time only fueled people’s confusion. But Azzi wasn’t confused. She actually found it kind of funny that Paige had this whole silent thing going on. There was something deliberate about the way Paige stood there, hands still in her pockets, gaze steady.

Geno had a small grin as he glanced at Paige before turning his attention back to the team and let out a clap. “We’ll talk more later,” he said simply. “For now, go do what you need to do.”

Despite the dismissal, the tension lingered. Eyes darted between Paige and Geno, and then toward Azzi, as if searching for some kind of answer from their leader.

Paige, still unreadable, finally exhaled through her nose before offering the team a small smile.

The team started dispersing, but the tension still lingered in the air.

Behind them, Nika scoffed under her breath. “We don’t even know if she’s as good as she used to be,” she muttered, just loud enough for those nearby to hear.

Azzi’s head snapped in her direction, her eyes sharp as she simply said, “Nika.”

It wasn’t loud, but the weight behind it was enough. A quiet warning. A reminder of how they were supposed to carry themselves.

Nika’s jaw tightened, and for a second, it looked like she might push back. But then, she exhaled through her nose, muttering a half-hearted, “Sorry,” before turning and heading toward the locker room.

Azzi watched her go before glancing toward Paige again. If she had heard, she didn’t show it. Her hands were still tucked in her pockets, her posture still easy, but there was something in her eyes—something flickering beneath the surface as she looked around the gym.

Azzi wasn’t sure why, but she felt the need to say something. Instead, she just pressed her lips together and turned back toward the court.

Azzi felt Paige’s gaze linger on her, but she didn’t turn back. She could still feel the weight of it, like Paige was trying to piece something together—trying to figure her out the same way Azzi had been doing since the moment she sat next to her on the plane.

Paige didn’t say anything, but she didn’t need to. There was a moment, brief but charged as they made eye contact again before Geno clapped a hand on her back, breaking the silence. Without hesitation, Paige stuffed her hands back into her pockets and followed him, her steps unhurried as they made their way toward the tunnel.

Azzi finally let out a slow breath she hadn’t realized she was holding.

She wasn’t sure what had just passed between them.

After shooting around a little more Azzi sat alone in the locker room, earbuds in, her mind wasn’t really on the upcoming game. The energy with the team had been a little off ever since Paige showed up, and she couldn’t shake the feeling that things were shifting in a way she didn’t quite understand yet.

She barely noticed when the door to the locker room opened, only looking up when Geno took a seat in the empty locker next to hers.

Azzi hesitated for a moment before pulling out her earbuds. “What’s up, Coach?”

Geno didn’t waste time. “I need you to make her feel comfortable on this visit.”

Azzi blinked, sitting up a little straighter. She gave him a nod, but Geno could tell she wasn’t fully processing what he was saying.

So he continued. “Look, Azzi. You came here to win a championship right?…We’ve come up short, and I know injuries and everything else have played a part in that. But I think Paige is the piece we need.”

Azzi stayed quiet, her expression unreadable.

“And Lord knows,” Geno added with a gruff sigh, “if one of those other schools gets her, it’s gonna be hell come March for us next season.”

Azzi chewed the inside of her cheek, finally breaking eye contact. She knew he was right. She’d seen how close they’d come before, only to fall short. And she wasn’t interested in going through that again.

Still, she wasn’t oblivious. She knew this wouldn’t go over smoothly with the whole team.

Geno, as if reading her mind, continued, “Some feelings are gonna be hurt. Someone will probably get pushed to the bench. That’s just how this works. But if you want to win.”

Azzi took a deep breath before nodding again, this time with more certainty. “I got it, don't worry about it.”

Geno studied her for a second, making sure the words actually sank in. She met his gaze, and there was something there—understanding, maybe even acceptance.

“I mean it,” he said, his tone softening to the best of his abilities. “She’s been through a lot, and this isn’t exactly an easy situation for her either.”

Azzi exhaled, rolling her shoulders before leaning back against the locker. “I got it, Coach.”

Geno gave a small nod and stood up, but before he left, he paused. “And Azzi?”

She looked up.

“You’re a leader on this team. People follow your lead more than you realize. If you’re welcoming, they’ll follow.”

Azzi let that sit for a second before nodding again.

Geno didn’t say anything else. He just patted her shoulder before walking out, leaving Azzi alone with her thoughts.

Some time later a few players were scattered around the court, lounging around and talking to one another as they passed the time before tip-off. Azzi sat near the baseline, stretching absentmindedly, when her eyes landed on Paige.

Paige had just settled behind the team’s bench, scrolling through her phone, seemingly completely unbothered by the noise around her. She looked comfortable, her posture relaxed, legs spread open as her fingers idly flicked at the screen.

Azzi watched for a moment before making a decision. Pushing herself up, she made her way toward Paige, hands tucked into the pockets of her warmups. She wasn’t sure why, but she wanted to talk to her again. Maybe it was because of what Geno had said earlier. Maybe it was simply because Paige intrigued her.

Whatever it was, Paige must have noticed her approaching because she locked her phone and slid it into her pocket before looking up. She smirked slightly.

“Paige Bueckers, huh?” Azzi said, settling into the seat next to her.

Paige’s smirk grew. “So you know my last name now.”

Azzi shrugged. “You could’ve just told me.”

Paige let out a small chuckle. “Your coach didn’t want me to. And where’s the fun in that?”

Azzi rolled her eyes playfully but didn’t push it. Instead, she leaned back, her tone turning casual. “So, Minnesota, huh?”

Paige raised an eyebrow. “That’s what you’re leading with?”

Azzi shrugged again. “Just putting the pieces together. KK told me you were one of the top players in the country.”

Paige hummed. “She say anything else?”

Azzi smiled a little. “She said you fell off the face of the earth.”

Paige chuckled, nodding slowly. “I guess that’s not entirely wrong in a sense.”

Azzi studied her for a moment before speaking again. “So, why now? Why transfer?”

Paige exhaled, glancing down at her hands before looking back at Azzi. “I just… needed a change. And your coach thinks UConn might be the right fit.”

Azzi didn’t push for more. Instead, she shifted slightly, her voice lighter. “You know, some of the girls aren’t too happy about it.”

Paige smirked. “Yeah, I picked up on that. He warned me though.”

Azzi gave her a look. “You don’t seem too worried.”

Paige leaned back, mirroring Azzi’s posture. “I’ve dealt with worse.”

Azzi couldn’t help but grin at that. “Cocky.”

Paige’s smirk deepened. “Confident.”

Azzi shook her head but didn’t argue. Instead, she glanced toward the court, watching some of teammates mess around before looking back at Paige. “You’re gonna have to prove yourself, you know.”

Paige met her gaze, something unreadable in her expression. “Wouldn’t have it any other way.”

Azzi held her stare for a moment longer before nodding in approval. “Good.”

Just as she was about to stand, something clicked in her mind. “Wait,” she said, tilting her head. “Didn’t you say you’ve always been a South Carolina fan?”

Paige chuckled, seemingly amused that Azzi remembered. “I did.”

Azzi raised an eyebrow. “So, are they in the lead?”

Paige hummed, leaning back in her seat. “I wouldn’t say so.”

Azzi narrowed her eyes slightly. “Why not?”

Paige shrugged. “Probably won’t be the best fit for me.”

Azzi crossed her arms, intrigued. “But UConn is?”

Paige, still a woman of few words, simply smirked. “Guess we’ll see today.”

Azzi chuckled at that, shaking her head. “The pressure’s on now.”

Paige lifted an eyebrow, her lips curving into a smirk. “I didn’t know you needed to make a good impression.”

Azzi met her gaze, her smirk matching Paige’s. “I don’t.”

Paige held her stare for a moment before letting out a soft laugh. “Touché.”

Azzi smirked, leaning back slightly in her seat. “So, what I’m basically hearing is… UConn has the lead?”

Paige exhaled a small laugh, tilting her head. “I never said that.”

Azzi raised a brow. “Didn’t deny it either.”

Paige shook her head, amusement filling her eyes. “I think you just like hearing what you want.”

Azzi grinned. “Maybe. But I’m just good at reading between the lines.”

Paige hummed, as if considering that before saying. “Or you just like making assumptions.”

Azzi gave a casual shrug. “Only when I think I’m right.”

Paige scoffed playfully, but before she could fire back, Aaliyah’s voice rang out from the court.

“Azzi! Come here for a sec!”

Azzi exhaled through her nose before standing, shooting Paige one last smile. “I’ll find you after the game.”

Paige met her gaze. “Don’t lose.”

Azzi chuckled, shaking her head as she started walking backward toward the court. “Not an option now apparently.”

Paige simply smiled, watching her go.

…

The game was everything UConn had hoped for. From the moment the ball tipped, Azzi was on fire, playing with a confidence that had been building all season. Notre Dame threw everything they could at her, doubling her, trying to trap her at every turn—but Azzi was always one step ahead. She made the right pass every time, finding the open player, setting up easy shots. The crowd at Gampel Pavilion was electric as they watched it unfold.

Azzi’s movement on the court was effortless, weaving between defenders with a fluidity that made it look like the game was moving in slow motion for her. She was every bit the player UConn had hoped she would be when they recruited her, and more. The more Notre Dame scrambled to contain her, the easier it seemed for UConn to build momentum.

Paige, perched behind the team’s bench, watched intently. Her expression remained calm, the competitive fire inside her barely visible. She was invested in every play, every pass, but she kept her reactions minimal, only letting a subtle smile flicker across her face when Azzi nailed yet another perfect assist or hit an impossible shot.

The contrast between the intensity of Azzi on the court and Paige's quiet focus off it. Azzi was in her element, dominating, and Paige was soaking it all in, her quiet appreciation almost as loud as the roars from the crowd. She wasn’t cheering, she wasn’t jumping out of her seat like everyone else, but her eyes—watching Azzi—told a different story. As she watched though, there was no doubt in her mind that UConn needed another leader. Needed a point guard. Bad. If Azzi wasn’t in the game the ball was stagnant, and the offense was choppy. Paige could tell Geno saw it too because within a minute or two he was always pushing Azzi back to the scorers table to check in.

When the buzzer sounded, securing UConn’s win, the crowd erupted into cheers. Azzi’s performance had stolen the show, and as she jogged off the court, a smile tugged at her lips.

After an on court interview Azzi walked over to Paige, her usual confidence still evident, but there was a slight hint of curiosity in her voice as she leaned in. “So?” she asked, arms casually crossed as she leaned against one of the chairs.

Paige glanced up at her, offering a playful chuckle. “You were good.”

Azzi raised an eyebrow, clearly looking for more than just a simple acknowledgment. “Good?”

Paige nodded, her smile never quite leaving her face. “Good.”

Azzi, sensing she wasn’t going to get much more than that, gave a small laugh. She leaned back a little, changing gears. “Alright then. You should come out with us tonight to celebrate.”

Paige hesitated. “That’s not really my scene,” she replied, shrugging slightly.

Azzi didn’t let up, her gaze soft but persistent. “You don’t want to get to know the team?”

Paige still wasn’t convinced, and Azzi could see the indecision on her face. She leaned in a little, her tone coaxing. “Come on. If you're genuinely considering coming here, they have to see that you aren’t as bad as they think.”

Paige’s eyes narrowed, picking up on the subtle words at the end. “What’d they say?”

Azzi shook her head, brushing it off quickly. “It doesn’t matter, it isn’t true.”

Paige raised an eyebrow at her, unconvinced. “Is it?” she asked.

Azzi gave a slight, dismissive shake of her head. “No. Not at all. And they can find out if you come out with us tonight.”

Paige let out a soft exhale, thinking it over. Finally, she gave a small nod. “Alright.”

Azzi grinned widely at her success. “Perfect. You can meet us at our dorm when you’re ready.”

Paige chuckled, glancing away. “I’ll just meet you wherever we’re going after I stop by my hotel.”

Azzi squinted playfully, not fully trusting the plan but deciding to go along with it. “Fine, but give me your number so I can text you when we’re heading out.”

Paige gave her a bemused look. “You can just give me yours.”

Azzi shook her head firmly. “Nope.”

Paige laughed. “Why not?”

Azzi's grin widened. “That gives you too much control over the situation. If you’re going to be on my team, you need to learn to let that control go... just a little bit.”

Paige’s laugh was warm, a little more genuine this time. She grabbed a piece of paper off of the scorers table writing her number on it before handing it to Azzi. “There. Happy?”

Azzi took it, her smile broadening. “Very. See you later.”

Paige just chuckled as she watched Azzi walk away.

…

Azzi was sitting at her desk, applying a little mascara in front of her mirror, the quiet buzz of her room filling the space when Caroline’s voice broke through the stillness.

“So, how do you know Paige already?” Caroline asked.

Azzi didn't look up, focusing on her lashes, but her answer was casual. “I don’t... well, not really. She was on my flight from DC.”

Caroline’s gaze flickered a little with suspicion. “On your flight? You guys talked a lot today, though.”

Azzi shrugged nonchalantly. “Geno told me to make her feel comfortable. He wants her to come here.”

Caroline gave a knowing glance, her eyebrow arching. “That’s all?”

Azzi shot her a look, but still replied with a quiet, “Yeah, pretty much.”

Caroline didn’t buy it for a second. “Uh-huh. Sure, that’s all.”

Azzi chuckled lightly, shifting in her seat. “What do you mean Car?”

Caroline grinned, crossing her arms. “I mean, you were talking to her a lot today…and she’s your type.”

Azzi turned a gave her a pointed look, shaking her head. “I don’t have a type. I barely even talk to girls these days.”

Caroline raised an eyebrow at her, clearly unconvinced. “That’s because you’re particular. Still, the few you do talk to...you like tall blondes Azzi. Especially ones with the kind of vibe Paige seems to give off.”

Azzi rolled her eyes, trying to brush it off, but didn’t offer a rebuttal. Caroline smirked as she pressed, “You aren’t denying it.”

Azzi took a deep breath, trying to hold back her smile. “She’s just... interesting. That’s all. I’m trying to figure her out.”

Caroline leaned in a little closer. “Yeah, because you want to sleep with her.”

Azzi’s jaw dropped, her face incredulous. “I do not.”

Caroline simply shrugged as her smile grew. “Yes, you do.”

Azzi sighed, exhaling slowly. She opened her mouth to say something but then stopped herself, unsure of what to say next. There was a moment of silence before Caroline spoke again, this time a little more matter-of-fact.

“Look, if you’re going to sleep with her, just do it before we officially maybe become teammates with the girl.”

Azzi was about to respond when the door to her room cracked open, and Aaliyah’s head popped in. “You guys ready?” she asked, clearly eager to get going.

Azzi immediately stood up, thankful for the interruption. “Yup, let’s go,” she said, flashing a grin at Caroline as she grabbed her jacket.

Azzi quickly shot a text to Paige, her fingers flying over the screen. As she sent the address and a simple We’re heading out. She hit send, not thinking much of it, but Caroline caught a glimpse of her phone screen.

"Do it before she's your teammate," Caroline simply said again.

Azzi immediately pushed her playfully, a smile tugging at her lips despite herself. “Shut up,” she mumbled, shaking her head.

Caroline only laughed, raising her hands in mock surrender. “I’m just saying, it’s not like you’ll get another shot after this.” She wiggled her eyebrows, but Azzi rolled her eyes again, determined to ignore her teasing.

“Seriously, shut up,” Azzi repeated, trying to keep her composure, though there was a hint of color rising in her cheeks.

Caroline chuckled but said no more, knowing she was getting a rise out of Azzi. “Alright, alright. Let’s go,” she said, grabbing her keys and heading out of the suite.

Azzi followed behind her, her phone vibrating in her back pocket. She pulled it out seeing a simple bet from Paige.

…

Later that night when Paige walked into Ted’s, Azzi immediately noticed the change in her. The sweats and hoodie she’d worn earlier were gone. She wore bright yellow pants that caught the light and a slightly oversized black t-shirt. The simple glistening chain with a cross around her neck caught Azzi's eye, and the silver rings on her fingers and tennis bracelet on her wrist added to the look. Her hair was pulled back into a bun.

Azzi swallowed a little too hard, her gaze lingering on Paige's figure as she took in the transformation. It was like the girl who had been sitting behind the bench earlier had completely disappeared. This version of Paige was undeniably captivating, and Azzi felt a tightening in her chest she couldn’t quite explain.

Caroline, standing next to Azzi, seemed to notice her moment of hesitation and leaned in with a whisper-sung tease. “Just get it over with.”

Azzi shot her a look, eyes narrowing, but Caroline only grinned, clearly entertained by her friend’s unease. Before Azzi could respond, Paige approached, and the air between them shifted instantly.

Azzi’s smile widened, trying to hide her discomfort. “You made it,” she said warmly.

Paige smiled slightly, that same quiet and mysterjous energy radiating off her. “I did.”

Caroline cleared her throat, catching Azzi’s attention and prompting her to step back into the moment. “Oh, sorry,” Azzi mumbled before gesturing to the two women. “Paige, this is Caroline. Caroline, Paige.”

Paige extended her hand to shake Caroline’s. “Nice to meet you,” she said, her voice smooth.

Azzi suddenly became hyper-aware of the exchange, watching the way their hands met, the simple contact sending a jolt through her. Something about seeing them shake hands, so effortless, so casual, made her realize just how little physical contact she and Paige had shared. It wasn’t like it mattered—it wasn’t like she wanted to initiate anything—but the realization sent an odd feeling coursing through her veins. Something about the way their hands lingered for just a moment too long in the handshake.

Azzi quickly shook the feeling off, pushing it down, forcing herself to focus on the rest of the group gathered around the bar and away from the tension she felt creeping up between her and Paige. She was overthinking this, wasn’t she?

After the introduction with Caroline, Azzi led Paige around the room, introducing her to some of the team. It was a quick but necessary round of introductions, and the rest of the UConn players seemed to size Paige up in their own way, each offering their hand or a warm smile. Most were welcoming, eager to make her feel part of the group.

First, Azzi introduced her to Aubrey, who gave Paige a friendly nod. “Good to have you here,” she said, her voice upbeat, as she shook Paige’s hand.

“Thanks,” Paige replied, returning the handshake with ease. Her smile was soft but genuine, and Azzi was hoping this would make her a little less tense.

Next up was Nika, who eyed Paige cautiously but still offered a handshake. She didn’t say much, just a short, “Nice to meet you,” before looking away, clearly trying not to make the encounter too awkward. Paige caught the tension, but she didn’t let it faze her. Instead, she just gave Nika a polite smile, nodding.

Azzi caught the brief exchange and couldn’t help but notice the slight distance between the two.

As Azzi watched Paige interact with the rest of the team, she couldn’t help but notice something else—Paige smelled incredible. The subtle yet unmistakable scent of jasmine and vanilla mixed in the air every time Paige moved. It was the kind of fragrance that lingered just enough to be noticed but not so much that it was overwhelming to someone’s nose. Azzi took a deep breath, trying to focus on something else, but it was hard not to be aware of the way the scent seemed to wrap itself around her, settling into her senses in a way that made her feel just a little warmer.

After the introductions were done, Azzi led Paige over to the bar. She glanced at Paige, who was walking beside her with that effortless cool she always seemed to radiate.

As they approached the bar, Azzi’s thoughts were interrupted by Caroline who whispered, “Just get it over with” as she walked by. Azzi shot her a warning look.

“Shut the hell up,” Azzi muttered back, before turning her attention to Paige, who was already ordering a drink at the bar.

Azzi leaned against the bar, the dim lighting of the room casting soft shadows over her face as she watched Paige closely. There was something different about her tonight—something that Azzi couldn’t quite put her finger on.

Azzi leaned in just slightly, her voice carrying over the light music that was playing. “So, what’s been the most interesting thing you’ve seen here so far?” Azzi asked, trying to get Paige to open up, sensing that Paige didn’t volunteer information without being nudged.

Paige, her fingers tracing the rim of her glass, shrugged just slightly. “Not sure. Everyone’s... a lot different than I expected.” Her voice was softer than usual, but it was clear she wasn’t uncomfortable. She was just more observant, taking everything in around her.

Azzi smiled, her eyes narrowing playfully as she took in Paige’s response. “Different how?” she pressed, wanting to hear more.

Paige glanced over at her, her lips curling into the slightest smile. “They’re... more relaxed, I guess. You’d think they’d be more intense, you know? I mean, I know they’re all good, but...” Her words trailed off, her voice almost contemplative. She didn’t finish her thought, leaving it hanging between them as they settled into silence for a second.

Azzi took the opportunity to study Paige a little more closely, sensing that something was off. There was a quiet intensity in her, like she was letting everything wash over her without reacting.

Azzi couldn’t help but feel drawn to it, but there was still something about it that made her curious.

“So,” Azzi said after a beat, breaking the silence that had settled between them. “I feel like you’re a little more hesitant tonight. What’s that about?” Her tone was teasing, but it was laced with an underlying curiosity.

Paige, who had been lost in her thoughts, snapped back to the present moment and glanced at Azzi. There was a flicker of a smile on her lips, but it was subtle. “I’m just listening to what you’re saying,” she responded with a quiet chuckle, her gaze meeting Azzi’s for just a second before looking down at her drink.

Azzi raised an eyebrow, a little taken aback by the response. She wasn’t used to Paige being so... still. There was always this confident energy about her, even when she was quiet. But tonight, it felt like Paige was holding back just a little bit. It wasn’t discomfort—it was something else.

Azzi chuckled softly. “Ah, so it’s all about me, huh?”

Paige smirked, but there was something in her eyes, something that Azzi couldn’t quite place. “I wouldn’t say that,” Paige replied, her tone barely audible, but there was an edge to it—something that felt almost playful, despite the calm exterior.

Azzi leaned back, still studying Paige. “Hmm... well, you’re still quieter than usual,” she said, her smile softening, though her eyes remained curious. “Which, considering you're already a woman of few words, says a lot.”

Paige smiled a little, a flicker of humor in her eyes. “I promise I’m just listening to what you’re saying,” she said again, as though it were a simple explanations

Azzi wasn’t buying it. She noticed how closed off Paige was tonight, at least compared to what she was used to. She leaned in a little, her voice turning more serious. “Can I ask you something?” Azzi’s tone was more purposeful and she watched Paige closely.

Paige glanced at her, a silent invitation to continue.

Azzi hesitated for a brief moment, then spoke, her voice quieter now. “It’s a little personal.”

Paige met her gaze and gave a small nod, giving Azzi the unspoken go-ahead. “Go ahead,” she said, her eyes steady on Azzi’s.

“You don’t have to answer if you don’t want to. But what happened during your senior year? You kind of…”fell off the face of the earth” in KK’s words.” Her tone wasn’t judgmental, just curious, like she was trying to understand a part of Paige that remained untold.

Paige chuckled lightly, her eyes shifting away as if she were weighing the decision to answer. For a moment, she studied Azzi, considering whether or not to open up. Then, with a quiet breath, she simply replied, “Car accident.”

Azzi’s eyes softened immediately. “Oh, I’m so sorry,” she said, her voice laced with genuine concern.

Paige gave a quick shake of her head, brushing it off. “It’s fine. I’m alive, aren’t I?” she said, her words light, almost like she was trying to ease the heaviness of the moment. She let out a soft chuckle, her eyes flicking to the side briefly.

After a pause, she continued, her voice quieter now, almost reflective. “It wasn’t bad for me. I just needed to stay close to home to help my family out.”

Azzi hummed thoughtfully, her eyes narrowing in admiration. “That’s sweet of you,” she said, her voice softening with a touch of warmth.

Paige picked up her drink, taking a slow sip as she looked over at Azzi with a faint smile trying to shift the conversation. “Is that what I am now? Sweet?” she asked, her tone teasing Azzi a little.

Azzi raised an eyebrow, a smile tugging at the corner of her lips. “I don’t know... are you?” she replied, leaning back just slightly, her eyes locking with Paige’s.

Paige smirked, her lips curving slightly. “Maybe sometimes,” she replied, the words filled with a touch of intrigue, leaving just enough unsaid to keep Azzi on her toes.

The two of them stood in that quiet moment, the subtle tension between them hanging in the air. Neither of them looked away, letting the silence linger.

Just as the moment grew heavier, a burst of energy interrupted, as KK bounded over to Azzi, her arm instantly slinging around her.

Azzi laughed, shaking her head as she looked away from Paige with a slight smile. “Hi, KK,” she said.

“You over here chatting up my replacement?” KK’s voice was full of playful accusation, but everyone could tell she was joking.

Azzi playfully rolls her eyes as she looks at KK. “She’s a little too quiet to be your replacement KK.”

KK raised an eyebrow and looked over at Paige, her gaze scanning her briefly before she leaned in with a grin. “You quiet Bueckers?” she asked.

Paige let out a soft laugh, glancing at Azzi before meeting KK’s eyes. “I can be. Depends on the person I guess” she said, her tone carrying a hint of amusement, as though suggesting there was more to her than met the eye.

KK smiled, satisfied with the response. “Well, looks like you two are chatting just fine so I’m gonna leave you to it,” she remarked, giving Azzi a wink before moving off to talk with the others.

Azzi turned back to Paige, the energy between them shifting again now that KK had left. Paige took a sip of her drink, her fingers absentmindedly spinning the glass against the bar top. Azzi watched her for a second before tilting her head.

“So, is this what you’re like on a night out?” Azzi asked, leaning against the bar with a grin. “Quiet, mysterious… just sitting there looking pretty in your own head?”

Paige huffed a small laugh, shaking her head as she set her drink down. “Maybe,” she said, glancing at Azzi. “But I think you just called me pretty.”

Azzi smirked. “I did.”

Paige held her gaze for a moment before nodding slightly. “Good to know,” she said simply.

Azzi laughed, the sound warm. “You’re a little hard to read, you know that?” she said, studying Paige like she was trying to figure her out.

Paige shrugged, her expression still tinged with amusement. “Maybe you’re just bad at reading me Azzi.”

Azzi raised an eyebrow, her smirk deepening. “Oh, I don’t think that’s it.” She let her eyes briefly flicker over Paige slowly before meeting her gaze again. “I think I’m figuring you out just fine. Slowly but surely.”

Paige held her stare, her own smirk forming. “Yeah?”

Azzi nodded. “Mhm.” She leaned in just slightly. “Like, I think you like the attention more than you let on.”

Paige’s lips pressed together like she was trying not to smile, but the amusement was evident in her eyes. “That so?”

Azzi’s gaze stayed steady. “Yeah. You pretend to be unbothered, but you’re not as unaffected as you want people to think.”

Paige chuckled at that, shaking her head slightly. “And what makes you so sure?”

“Because,” she said, tapping her fingers against the bar. “You’re still sitting here talking to me.”

Paige exhaled a soft laugh, her eyes flickering down for a second before she looked back at Azzi. She leaned in slightly herself, her voice dropping just enough.

“And you’re still talking to me,” she pointed out.

Azzi felt a small rush at that, the way Paige’s words carried that same challenge had grown accustomed to before tonight. She grinned, tilting her head. “Yeah, I guess I am.”

Paige hummed, taking another sip of her drink before looking back at Azzi, a glimmer of something playful—something interested—settling behind her gaze. “Good to know,” she said again, repeating her words from earlier, but this time, her voice was just the slightest bit lower.

As the night carried on, Azzi and Paige eventually drifted back toward the rest of the team. The atmosphere was lively—laughter, drinks clinking, the steady hum of conversation filling the space. Paige found herself next to Ice, who was mid-story about something that happened during practice earlier that week.

Paige listened, offering small nods and the occasional chuckle, but it was clear she wasn’t as engaged as she had been at the bar with Azzi. She was friendly, polite, but there was a noticeable shift—her responses shorter, her posture a little more reserved. She wasn’t standoffish, just… quieter.

Ice noticed. She squinted at Paige, tilting her head. “You always this quiet?” she asked.

Paige sipped her drink before shrugging. “Most times.”

Ice gave her a once-over, a look creeping onto her face before she glanced past Paige—right at Azzi, who was talking to Nika a few feet away. A slow smirk tugged at Ice’s lips as she looked back at Paige.

“Huh,” Ice mused, taking another sip of her drink. “Could’ve fooled me.”

Paige furrowed her brows slightly. “What do you mean?”

Ice smirked. “Nothing,” she said, but the way she dragged out the word made it obvious that it wasn’t nothing. She took another sip before nodding toward Azzi. “Just saying—you seem to talk a little more when you’re over there.”

Paige’s lips pressed together, her grip tightening around her glass just slightly. “Do I?” she asked, her voice neutral.

Ice grinned. “Mhm.” She leaned in just a little. “Don’t worry, though. I think she likes it.”

Paige exhaled a small laugh before shaking her head. “You’re reading into things.”

Ice just smirked wider. “I’m definitely not.”

After a while it had gotten pretty late. Paige exhaled softly, setting her drink down on the nearest surface before turning to Azzi. “I think I’m gonna head out.”

Azzi, who had been mid-conversation with Caroline, instinctively paused, her head turning toward Paige. “How’re you getting back?” she asked, brows slightly furrowed.

Paige gave a small shrug. “I was just gonna Uber to my hotel.”

Before Azzi could respond, Caroline wordlessly grabbed her keys and pressed them firmly into Azzi’s hand. “Azzi can take you,” she said.

Azzi blinked, caught off guard. She shot Caroline a look, but the girl just grinned wider, clearly pleased with herself.

Paige hesitated, her eyes flickering between them before shaking her head. “No, it’s cool, I don’t wanna—”

“I don’t mind,” Azzi finally cut in, her voice coming out a little too smooth, a little too sure. She adjusted the keys in her hand, turning toward Paige now.

Caroline, visibly enjoying every second of this, shoved Azzi’s jacket toward her. “Perfect. Drive safe.”

Azzi exhales, shaking her head slightly before turning her attention back to Paige. “Well,” she says, tilting her head toward the door, “guess you’re stuck with me.”

Paige huffs a small laugh, shifting her weight from one foot to the other. “Guess so.”

There’s a beat of silence, the air between them charged. Then, without another word, Azzi gestures for Paige to follow her, leading the way toward the exit.

As soon as they got in the car, Azzi adjusted her seat and started the engine, but for the first time that night, she wasn’t sure what to say. Paige had already given her the address when they were walking towards the car. The silence between them wasn’t awkward—at least, not for Paige. She looked completely at ease, her body relaxed against the seat as she gazed out the window. The glow from the streetlights cast soft shadows across her face, highlighting the sharp angles of her jawline and the way her silver rings caught the light whenever she shifted her hand.

Azzi stole a quick glance at her before finally breaking the silence. “So, Ice thinks you only talk to me.”

Paige turned her head slightly, a small smirk playing at her lips. “That’s what she said.”

Azzi raised an eyebrow, keeping her eyes on the road. “And what did you say?”

Paige exhaled a quiet laugh before looking back out the window. “Didn’t say anything.”

Azzi hummed at that, drumming her fingers against the steering wheel. “Interesting.”

Paige tilted her head slightly but didn’t say anything, letting the silence stretch between them for another beat.

Azzi smirked, finally glancing over at her again. “That means you didn’t deny it.”

Paige smiled a little as she looked over at Azzi. “Didn’t feel the need to.”

Azzi grinned at that, her grip on the wheel loosening as the conversation found its rhythm again. “So you like talking to me too, then?”

Paige looked at Azzi, her eyes unreadable, but her lips curved just enough. “I didn’t say that.”

Azzi scoffed, shaking her head as she turned her focus back to the road. “You like being difficult, don’t you?”

Paige smirked again, settling further into her seat. “Maybe sometimes.”

Azzi let out a soft laugh, shaking her head. “Maybe sometimes,” she repeated, stealing another glance at Paige. “You know, for someone as quiet as you, you sure know how to keep me on my toes.”

Paige smirked, her fingers idly playing with the rings on her hand. “That a bad thing?”

Azzi scoffed. “Didn’t say that.”

Paige huffed out a quiet laugh, the air between them was light despite the weight of whatever was lingering beneath the surface.

Azzi tapped her fingers against the wheel, her voice carrying a teasing lilt. “So, if you didn’t say you like talking to me… and you didn’t say you don’t… what am I supposed to do with that information?”

Paige glanced at her, the corners of her lips curling just slightly. “Figure it out.”

Azzi let out a low chuckle. “Oh, I see how it is. You like making things difficult for me.”

Paige tilted her head, pretending to think about it. “Maybe sometimes.”

Azzi groaned dramatically. “Alright, you can’t keep using that answer. It’s a cop-out.”

Paige grinned this time, the most open she’d been all night. “Seems to be working just fine.”

Azzi shot her a look, playful and exasperated all at once. “What makes you say that?”

Paige shrugged. “Because you’re taking me back to my hotel.”

Azzi exhaled a laugh, shaking her head as she made a turn. “Yeah, I guess I am.”

For a moment, there was only the hum of the engine and the quiet city around them, the comfortable silence settling between them again.

Then Azzi glanced over, her voice dipping slightly, her tone laced with something else. “You sure you don’t like talking to me?”

Paige studied her for a beat. Then, with a small smirk, she turned back toward the window.

“Maybe sometimes.”

Azzi’s jaw dropped at this and Paige just chuckled at her reaction as she went back to looking out the window.

A bit later Azzi pulled into the hotel parking lot, shifting the car into park as the engine settled. The quiet between them stretched, not uncomfortable, but filled with something unspoken. The streetlights cast a soft glow over the car’s interior, highlighting the subtle tension that had been building all night.

Azzi was the first to break the silence. “When do you leave Connecticut?”

Paige kept her gaze forward for a moment, her fingers idly tapping against her knee before she answered. “Tomorrow night.”

Azzi hummed in acknowledgment, nodding slightly as she processed that.

The silence returned, heavier this time, until Paige exhaled quietly. She glanced over at Azzi, studying her for a moment before finally speaking again. “You wanna come upstairs?”

Azzi’s first instinct was to hesitate, to say it probably isn’t a good idea, but Caroline’s voice echoed in her head—do it before she’s your teammate—and before she could second-guess herself, she found herself nodding. “I do.”

Paige’s eyes flickered with something unreadable before she simply nodded back. “Cool.”

With that, she pushed open the car door, stepping out into the night without looking back, leaving Azzi gripping the steering wheel for half a second longer before finally following.

The two of them walked through the hotel lobby, the quiet padding of their footsteps echoing against the polished floors. Azzi glanced around, taking in the sleek, modern design. “This is nice,” she commented, her eyes sweeping over the dimly lit lounge area.

Paige chuckled, slipping her hands into her pockets. “Courtesy of your coach.”

Azzi smirked at that, shaking her head as they stopped in front of the elevator. As they waited, she pulled out her phone, sending a quick text to Caroline telling her she was fine before tucking it back into her pocket.

The elevator doors slid open with a soft ding, and they stepped inside. The ride up was… a little awkward—not bad awkward, just thick. The tension from earlier hadn’t disappeared, just shifted into something more present, lingering in the small space between them. Azzi found herself hyper aware of Paige standing beside her, close enough that she could catch the subtle traces of her scent again.

Before she could think twice about it, she blurted out, “What kind of perfume do you use?”

Paige turned her head, smirking as she chuckled softly. “Dolce & Gabbana.”

Azzi hummed at that, but didn’t say anything back.

Paige raised an eyebrow. “Why?”

Azzi hesitated for half a second before shrugging. “No reason.”

The elevator doors slid open and the two of them walked down the hallway before Paige stopped at her door. She swiped her keycard against the lock, the green light flashing as the door clicked open. With a small glance back at Azzi, she pushed the door open and stepped inside.

As Azzi fully stepped inside, she immediately took note of how clean the room was. Sure, the hotel staff had probably stopped by, but there was something about the way Paige’s things were neatly folded, her shoes lined up on the wall, her duffel bag zipped up in the corner, that made it clear she kept it that way herself. It didn’t smell like a hotel room either—it smelled like her. That same mix of jasmine and vanilla that had been lingering in Azzi’s head all night.

Paige walked over to the mini fridge, casually pulling it open. “You want a water?” she asked, glancing over her shoulder.

Azzi nodded. “Yeah, sure.”

Paige grabbed two bottles, tossing one to Azzi before twisting the cap off her own and leaning against the desk. The silence that settled between them wasn’t exactly uncomfortable, but it carried a weight, like they were both aware of something neither of them wanted to address just yet. Azzi took a sip of her water, eyes flickering around the room before landing back on Paige.

Azzi rolled the bottle of water between her palms, glancing over at Paige, who was still leaning against the desk, watching her with that same unreadable expression she’d had in the car. The silence stretched for another beat before Azzi finally spoke.

“So…” she started, tilting her head slightly. “Why’d you invite me up?”

Paige smirked a little at that, as if she’d been expecting the question. She took a sip of her water before responding. “Did you not want to come?”

Azzi let out a chuckle, shaking her head. “That’s not what I asked.”

Paige hummed, setting her bottle down on the desk behind her. “I don’t know,” she admitted, her voice light. “Seemed like you weren’t ready to say goodnight yet.”

Azzi raised an eyebrow, stepping closer. “Oh yeah? And what gave you that impression?”

Paige didn’t move, but her smirk deepened just slightly. “I got a vibe.”

Azzi chuckled, shaking her head. “You got a vibe?”

Paige hummed in response, her gaze steady as she just looked at Azzi, unreadable yet somehow still saying something.

Azzi tilted her head. “What goes on in your head all day?”

Paige took a sip of her water before simply replying, “Thoughts.”

Azzi let out a soft laugh. “Well, that’s a miracle.”

Paige chuckled, shaking her head. “You got jokes, huh?”

Azzi smirked, repeating Paige’s own words from earlier. “Maybe sometimes.”

Paige let out a chuckle, shaking her head slightly as she played with her water bottle. “Alright, I’ll give you that one,” she admitted before taking another sip.

Azzi smirked, leaning against the wall now, mirroring Paige’s casual stance. “I’ll take it.”

A brief silence settled between them, but it wasn’t uncomfortable. If anything, it was charged—like they were both waiting to see who would say something next, who would push the moment just a little further.

Paige finally broke it as she looked at Azzi. “You never answered my question.”

Azzi lifted an eyebrow. “Which one?”

Paige gave her a pointed look. “Did you want to come up?”

Azzi let the question hang in the air for a second, her smirk fading into something softer—something just as teasing but a little more honest. “I think you already know the answer to that Paige.”

Paige held her gaze, her lips twitching slightly like she was fighting back another smirk. “Yeah,” she mumbled, voice just a little lower than before. “I think I do.”

Azzi shook her head as she took a sip of her water. “You’re something else, you know that?”

Paige smirked. “That a good thing?”

Azzi tilted her head, considering. “Most of the time.”

Paige huffed a soft laugh. “And the rest of the time?”

Azzi shrugged. “Jury’s still out.”

Paige hummed at this, licking her lips as she looked at Azzi. The thoughts behind her eyes clear for the first time.

Azzi looked down for a second before meeting Paige’s gaze again. “Can I ask you something?”

Paige nodded and Azzi watched her closely, trying to gauge her reaction. “I’m going to be a little bold with this, so if I have the wrong idea, please tell me.”

Paige chuckled, a glint in her eyes as she motioned for Azzi to go ahead.

Azzi hesitated for only a second before asking, “How many people have you slept with?”

Paige didn’t flinch, didn’t seem caught off guard. Instead, she answered smoothly, “Six.”

Azzi raised an eyebrow. “Recently?”

Paige shook her head. “No.”

Azzi hummed at this, nodding slowly, taking in the way Paige seemed completely unfazed, as if this kind of conversation didn’t rattle her in the slightest.

Then Paige moved. She pushed off the desk, stepping toward Azzi with an almost lazy confidence, the gap between them shrinking. Azzi could feel the shift immediately.

Paige stopped just in front of her, close enough that Azzi caught that familiar mix of jasmine and vanilla. She tilted her head slightly, her voice low, smooth.

“Why do you ask?”

Azzi let out a soft breath, lips twitching. “Just curious.”

Paige hummed, her gaze locked on Azzi. “You always this curious?”

Azzi smirked. “Depends on who I’m talking to.”

Paige’s lips quirked slightly, but she didn’t respond right away. She just held Azzi’s gaze, the space between them thinning ever so slightly, a silent conversation playing out between them.

Azzi swallowed, her voice quieter now. “And?” she asked. “Did I have the wrong idea?”

Paige exhaled softly, her eyes flickering down to Azzi’s lips again before meeting her gaze again.

“No.”

Azzi’s gaze flickered down to Paige’s lips for just a second before meeting her eyes again. “So… when’s the last time?”

Paige let out a quiet breath, something amused crossing her face. “You ask a lot of questions.”

Azzi smirked. “Only when I actually want to know the answers.”

Paige studied her for a moment, then tilted her head deciding to ease her mind. “It’s been a while.”

Azzi let that sit between them for a second before she asked, “Why’s that?”

Paige exhaled a soft chuckle, the corner of her mouth lifting like she found the conversation entertaining. “I could ask you the same thing.”

Azzi didn’t blink. “You could.”

Paige didn’t back down either. “Would you answer?”

Azzi took a small step closer, her voice dipping lower. “Maybe.”

Paige hummed at that, her fingers trailing idly against the rings on her finger. “Maybe I’m just waiting.”

Azzi’s eyes searched hers. “Waiting for what?”

Paige held Azzi’s gaze, her voice smooth as she said, “That depends on you.”

Azzi’s brow lifted slightly. “How so?”

Paige exhaled softly, tilting her head just a little. “We’re probably going to be teammates.”

Azzi tucked that knowledge away as Paige unknowingly let that slip. “We’re not teammates yet,” she countered, voice lower now. “And it’s just one night.”

Paige chuckled, the sound quiet, knowing. “It’ll be more than just one night.”

Azzi narrowed her eyes, intrigued. “You seem confident.”

Paige leaned in just enough that Azzi could feel the warmth of her breath. “You seem too interested for it to be just one night.” A pause, then a smirk. “And I think everything in life happens for a reason.”

Azzi hummed, considering that before simply saying, “You think too much.”

Paige chuckled again, softer this time. “You’re probably right.”

Azzi’s eyes darkened just slightly as she searched Paige’s face. “I want us to stop talking,” she murmured, her voice barely above a whisper, only inches from Paige’s lips.

Paige held her gaze. Slowly, she gave a small nod, her voice just as quiet. “Then let’s stop talking.”

Azzi didn’t need any more convincing. The space between them disappeared in an instant as their lips finally met—slow at first, testing the waters, before deepening. Paige’s hands instinctively found Azzi’s waist, fingers pressing into the fabric of her shirt, while Azzi’s arms wrapped securely around Paige’s neck, pulling her in closer.

It wasn’t lost on Azzi that this was the first time they had ever really touched—no casual brushes of hands, no lingering grazes—just this, a full embrace, lips slotting together like they had been waiting for it. And maybe they had.

Paige’s grip on Azzi’s waist tightened, a subtle squeeze that sent a thrill down Azzi’s spine. In response, Azzi deepened the kiss, tilting her head slightly, allowing their lips to move in perfect sync. They breathed through their noses, neither of them willing to pull away just yet, as if letting go would break whatever spell had settled between them.

Azzi could feel the warmth of Paige’s skin beneath her fingertips, the firm muscle beneath her grip. The moment was thick, charged, and she was already losing herself completely in the way Paige kissed her

Azzi barely pulled back, her lips still ghosting over Paige’s as she murmured, “You’re not gonna ask me?”

Paige’s hands slid over Azzi’s waist, guiding them slowly toward the bed. “Ask what?”

Azzi smirked, her breath warm against Paige’s lips. “How many people I’ve slept with.”

Paige didn’t hesitate. “Doesn’t matter,” she said simply, her tone steady as she guided Azzi back until the bed hit the back of her legs.

Azzi let out a small, surprised breath as she lost her balance slightly, but Paige caught her with ease, steadying her before laying them down gently. The moment stretched between them, thick with something unspoken, as Paige hovered over her, her fingers still resting lightly against Azzi’s waist.

Azzi met her gaze, her smirk forming into a soft smile. “No?”

Paige shook her head, her thumb brushing absentmindedly over Azzi’s hip. “No,” she murmured, eyes flickering between Azzi’s lips and her gaze.

Azzi didn’t let Paige linger too much. She reached up, fingers slipping into Paige’s bun, working it loose until blonde strands cascaded freely around her face. A satisfied smile ghosted Azzi’s lips as she pulled Paige back down, kissing her slowly.

After a while, Paige broke away, standing up as she reached for the hem of her shirt. Azzi pushed up onto her elbows, watching as Paige peeled it over her head. Her gaze naturally traced the lines of Paige’s toned stomach, but then her eyes caught something else—a scar along the side of her torso.

It wasn’t massive, but it definitely wasn’t small either.

Paige noticed where Azzi’s eyes had landed, so she spoke before Azzi could ask. “Car accident,” she said simply, her voice unreadable.

Azzi just nodded, not pressing.

Paige didn’t give her the chance to linger on it. She was back over Azzi in an instant, her hands pressing into the mattress on either side of Azzi’s waist. Their eyes met again, and whatever weight the moment held dissolved as Paige leaned back in, her lips capturing Azzi’s once more.

Azzi let out a slow breath, her fingers tangling in Paige’s hair as Paige’s lips trailed down her jaw, leaving a path of warmth in their wake. Paige’s hands were steady, pushing Azzi’s shirt up inch by inch, her fingers grazing over smooth skin, mapping out the new territory.

Azzi tilted her head instinctively, offering more of herself, and Paige took her time, pressing kisses along the curve of her neck, her breath hot against Azzi’s skin. Azzi’s own breathing grew just a little heavier, her body reacting to each kiss.

Paige lingered there for a moment–kissing, nipping, sucking–reveling in the way Azzi’s body responded to her before murmuring against her skin, “You wanna take this off?” She punctuated the question with a gentle tug at Azzi’s shirt.

Azzi nodded, lifting her arms slightly to help Paige pull her shirt over her head. As the fabric was tossed aside, Paige’s eyes roamed over Azzi’s exposed torso and chest, a slow, almost dazed smile spreading across her lips. She shook her head slightly, a quiet chuckle escaping her.

Azzi raised an eyebrow. “What?”

Paige just licked her lips, her gaze dragging up to meet Azzi’s as she murmured, “You look good.”

Before Azzi could respond, Paige leaned down, pressing soft, lingering kisses against her stomach. The warmth of her lips mixed with the faint scrape of her teeth made Azzi’s breath hitch. Paige took her time, sucking lightly against her skin before trailing back up, her mouth exploring, savoring the taste of Azzi’s skin.

Azzi let her head fall back against the pillow, her fingers instinctively threading through Paige’s hair. She wasn’t sure if she meant to pull her closer or slow her down, but Paige didn’t give her a chance to decide.

By the time their lips met again, the kiss was deeper, slower, like neither of them were in a rush to let go.

Paige’s fingers played with the button of Azzi’s pants, her touch light but teasing. When she heard Azzi’s breath hitch, she pulled back just slightly. “You good?”

Azzi nodded quickly, voice a little breathless. “Yeah.”

Paige smirked. “You sure? ‘Cause for a second there, it sounded like I did something to you.”

Azzi scoffed, her grip tightening on Paige’s bare shoulders. “Shut up.”

Paige chuckled, leaning in to press a kiss just below Azzi’s jaw. “That’s not a denial.” Sucking slightly after she asked.

Azzi exhaled sharply, tipping her head back against the pillow. “You really think you’re something, don’t you?”

Paige hummed against her skin, the vibration making Azzi swallow. “No, I know I am.” She nipped at Azzi’s collarbone before pulling back just enough to meet her eyes. “And based on the way you’re looking at me right now… you know it too.”

Azzi rolled her eyes, though the effect was ruined by the way she was gripping Paige’s waist, pulling her back down. “This is probably the most you’ve talked.”

Paige chuckled, finally undoing the button. “Guess you just bring out the best in me.”

Paige started trailing her lips down Aziz’s body again, nipping at the skin and sucking here and there.

Once she reached Aziz’s waist she looked up at her expectedly as her fingers wrapped around the waistband of Azzi’s pants. Azzi lifted her hips making it easier for Paige to slide them and her underwear down Azzi’s legs smoothly. Taking her own pants off when she discards Azzi’s.

Paige settled between Azzi’s legs, her hands trailing slowly against Azzi’s thighs as she hovered over her center. The air between them was thick making it hard to think straight. Still Paige paused before she brushed her lips lower.

She lifted her head slightly, her gaze locking onto Azzi’s. “This okay?”

Azzi, already breathless, nodded immediately. “Yeah.”

Paige didn’t move, just studied her for a second longer, her fingers still tracing slow, aimless patterns along Azzi’s thighs. “You’d tell me if it wasn’t, right?”

Azzi exhaled. “Of course.”

Paige held her gaze for a beat longer, studying her, then nodded, the corner of her mouth tugging into something softer than a smirk. “Good.”

Then Paige was dipping her head between Azzi’s legs and Azzi immediately sighed at the contact, her fingers tangling in Paige’s hair.

Paige switched between licking and sucking as she paid close attention to Azzi’s reactions. Azzi wasn’t outwardly vocal yet. Her breath had grown uneven and her chest rose and fell a little quicker but she hadn’t let out any outward indication of her feelings as she bit down on her lip.

Paige used both of her hands to pull Aziz’s hips closer to her, pressing herself further into Azzi as she put Azzi’s legs over her shoulders.

Azzi’s fingers curled tighter in Paige’s hair, her breath hitching as she let out a quiet, unsteady sigh. “You feel so good,” she murmured, her voice coming out softer, more breathless than she intended.

Paige didn’t respond with words—she didn’t need to. Instead, she hummed against Azzi’s center, the low vibration sending a jolt through Azzi that pulled a quiet moan from her lips. Paige smirked at the sound, her hands gripping Azzi’s waist a little firmer, holding her steady.

Azzi swallowed, her breathing uneven. “You—” she started, but then Paige flicked her tongue making Azzi exhale sharply, her body reacting. Her head fell back against the pillow, her fingers tugging at Paige’s hair, needing something to hold on to. “God, Paige…” she sighed, her voice just above a whisper.

Paige still didn’t say anything, but the way she moved, the way she responded to every little sound Azzi made, was more than enough of an answer. Azzi bit her lip, trying to steady herself, but Paige was making it impossible. “You’re—” Azzi’s breath hitched again, her voice catching. “You’re too good at this.

Paige finally lifted her head just slightly, just enough for Azzi to catch the amused glint in her eyes and the wetness coating her lips before she murmured, “I know.” Then, just as Azzi was about to say something back, Paige was gone again, her actions cutting off whatever thought Azzi might’ve had, replacing it with another soft, shaky moan instead.

After a few minutes Paige pulled back slightly, replacing her mouth with her thumb as she traced deliberate circles against Azzi. She smirked as Azzi shivered beneath her, fingers still tangled in her hair.

“You’re quiet all of a sudden,” Paige murmured, pressing a slow kiss just above Azzi’s hip. “That’s not like you.”

Azzi let out a shaky breath, her grip tightening. “Shut up.”

Paige chuckled, circling her thumb in a deliberate, lazy motion that made Azzi’s stomach tense. “That’s not very nice,” she teased. “I was just trying to have a conversation.”

Azzi exhaled sharply, her voice unsteady. “You—you’re making that really hard right now.”

Paige hummed, satisfied. “Yeah?” she mused, tilting her head. “You usually have a lot to say. What happened?”

Azzi groaned, her head falling back against the pillow as she tried to collect herself. “Paige.”

Paige smirked, lifting her gaze, her chin resting just barely above Azzi’s hip as she watched her struggle. “Yeah?”

Azzi forced herself to look down at her, her breaths uneven. “You know what you’re doing.”

Paige grinned, adding another finger to her circular motions. “Maybe,” she admitted, her voice smooth, confident. “But I like hearing you say it.”

Azzi exhaled a shaky breath, her fingers tightening in Paige’s hair as she tried to steady herself. Paige watched her eyes dark in a way that made Azzi’s stomach tighten as she had grown used to Paige’s usual light blue eyes.

“You’re…” Azzi started, but her breath hitched as Paige pressed another slow, deliberate kiss to her skin.

Paige hummed, barely glancing up. “I’m what?”

Azzi swallowed, her voice coming out softer than she intended. “You’re—”

Paige dragged her lips over the same spot, teasing as she pressed her fingers more firmly against Azzi. “Come on,” she coaxed. “You’re usually so good with words.”

Azzi let out a quiet, breathy laugh, though it quickly turned into another sigh as Paige traced her tongue along her skin again. “You feel good,” she admitted, her voice nearly a whisper.

Paige smirked. “Yeah?”

Azzi just nodded, her fingers flexing where they rested against Paige’s scalp.

Paige tilted her head slightly, pressing another slow, lazy kiss. “Good enough to make you forget how to talk?”

Azzi let out a shaky exhale. “Paige.”

Paige chuckled against her skin, taking her time. “That wasn’t a no.”

Azzi groaned, her head falling back against the pillow. “You want me to admit it?”

“I just wanna hear you.”

Azzi sucked in a breath as Paige found the perfect pace, her words getting caught in her throat. She squeezed her eyes shut for a second before forcing them open, looking down at Paige, her expression unreadable.

“Ask me in a few minutes,” Azzi finally managed, her voice barely above a whisper.

Paige smirked against her skin. “Mmm, ok.”

Azzi barely had a moment to gather herself before Paige was moving back near her lips, a knowing smirk playing on her face.

Azzi huffed, her breath still uneven. “Suddenly, you’re Chatty Cathy.”

Paige chuckled, tilting her head as she watched Azzi’s every reaction. “I usually just don’t have much to say.”

Azzi gave her a look, her lips parting slightly as she caught her breath. “You do now, apparently.”

Paige didn’t answer with words this time. Instead, she leaned in, nipping at Azzi’s neck, her teeth grazing just enough to make Azzi feel it.

Azzi inhaled sharply, gripping Paige’s arm.

Paige smirked against her skin. “Seems like you do too.”

Azzi was about to roll her eyes, ready to fire back, but the second Paige eased her fingers inside of her, her breath caught. Her lashes fluttered closed, her body reacting before she could think, and Paige caught it immediately.

She pulled back just enough to watch Azzi’s face, her smirk deepening. “That’s what I thought.”

Paige worked her fingers in and out, her head resting in the crook of Azzi’s neck as Azzi fought to keep her composure. Paige hovered just inches from Azzi's ear, her lips brushed against the delicate skin, whispering words that sent a wave of heat across Azzi’s neck. "You feel so good," Paige murmured softly.

"Can you feel how much I want you?" She drew her words out, the vibrations of her voice making Azzi’s pulse race in time with her breaths.

Azzi’s body responded before her mind could catch up, pulling Paige closer as she tried to ground herself in the feeling of her. Paige’s lips brushed against her ear again, the gentle heat of her breath making Azzi shiver. “You don’t have to say anything, just feel it,” Paige whispered, the words hanging in the air between them.

The way Paige’s breath mixed with her words, combined with the pressure of her body and the way she was working her fingers at the perfect pace, kept Azzi on the edge.

When Paige easily added another finger, Azzi’s breath caught, her chest rising and falling faster. She couldn’t help but let her hand drift down, grazing over the soft skin of Paige’s side until her fingers brushed against the scar near her torso.

At the contact, Paige sucked in a small breath, and without a word, she gently took Azzi’s hand, guiding it back up to her shoulder. The subtle movement was almost instinctive, a silent message that carried no discomfort—just a quiet assurance.

Azzi, realizing what she’d done, let out a breathless apology. “I’m sorry.”

Paige didn’t say anything immediately. She simply shook her head, the slight smile on her lips reassuring and seemingly tender. “It’s fine, pretty.” Her voice was soothing, like a calm after the storm, and it melted any hesitation Azzi had.

The words made Azzi’s breath catch, her eyes barely open as they met Paige’s gaze—deep brown eyes locking with Paige’s steady blue ones. Azzi’s voice barely broke through her breath, whispering, “I’m close.”

Paige nodded, her heart quickening, her breath steady as she stayed close, hovering just above her. Her lips brushed against Azzi’s ear as she whispered back, “I got you.”

Azzi’s grip tightened around Paige, her nails curling into Paige’s skin, pulling her even closer. “Can you kiss me?” Azzi asked breathlessly, her voice nearly a plea.

Without hesitation, Paige leaned down, her lips capturing Azzi’s in a passionate kiss. As soon as their mouths met, the kiss deepened, and Paige’s senses swirled—Azzi’s breath, the taste of her lips, the way her body moved beneath hers.

As the kiss grew more intense, Paige found herself swallowing Azzi’s gasps. Azzi was shaking beneath her, the tension building in her stomach. Paige could feel it, her own body responding instinctively, but it was Azzi’s trembling that made her want to hold on tighter. She kissed Azzi even deeper, feeling her tremble and pull at Paige’s shoulders. With every second, the heat between them seemed to double, and Paige couldn’t get enough of Azzi’s lips—of her sounds—of the way she reacted to her touch.

Azzi’s body arched beneath her, and Paige felt the moment before Azzi released over her fingers, her hands tightening once more around Paige. She didn’t break the kiss, her lips staying connected, savoring the moment as Azzi shuddered underneath her, the sounds she made muffled by their kiss that neither of them seemed inclined to stop.

After a few minutes the kiss finally broke, they were both breathless, but Paige stayed hovering above Azzi, her heart still racing.

After giving her a moment Paige moved off of Azzi and settled beside her, she could feel the soft heat of the moment still lingering between them. Azzi, though clearly trying to regain her energy, looked at her with a slight grin as she took slow, steady breaths, still adjusting to the aftershocks of what she felt.

Paige smiled a little, her voice. "Don't worry about it. You can get me next time," she said, her eyes filled with the playful confidence that Azzi had come to expect from her.

Azzi, barely opening her eyes, let out a small laugh, the remnants of pleasure still evident in her expression. "Who said anything about next time?" she asked, her voice light but laced with a hint of challenge.

Paige raised an eyebrow, giving her a look—one that was knowing, confident, and just a touch teasing. Azzi saw the look and didn't bother arguing, instead rolling her eyes as she closed them, her body still trying to find its calm.

Paige got up and walked to the bathroom, the soft click of the door closing behind her was the only sound in the room. She stood in front of the sink, running the water to wash her hands. Her eyes caught the faint scar near her hairline in the mirror, a reminder of a past she usually kept tucked away. The scar wasn’t large, but it was there and she noticed it every time she looked at herself.

Paige sighed softly, her reflection in the mirror a quiet reminder of everything she carried with her. She closed her eyes, took a deep breath, and let the moment pass, focusing on the present instead. The warm water running over her hands brought a sense of normalcy, something she could control in a world that often felt unpredictable.

After drying her hands, Paige stood still for a moment, giving herself a final glance in the mirror before turning to head back to the bed. The weight of everything was still there, but it was lighter these days, fading into the background as her mind shifted back to the room she was in—and the woman she had just met, someone who felt entirely familiar.

When Paige returned to the bed, Azzi was still lying there, her eyes closed, her breath steady but soft. The moment between them had settled into a comfortable quiet. Paige walked back to her side of the bed, her gaze lingering on Azzi for a moment longer before she sat down next to her.

Azzi opened her eyes, meeting Paige’s gaze, her lips curving into a small smile. Paige gave her a soft smile in return, one that said everything without words. The air between them felt oddly still.

Paige settled into the bed, pulling the covers up over both of them, her body still warm from their earlier closeness. She could sense Azzi hesitating, her body almost stalling before she moved toward her. Paige chuckled softly, the sound slightly affectionate as she spoke. “We just had sex, Azzi. I can hold you.”

Azzi didn’t say anything at first, but Paige felt the shift in the mattress when Azzi finally moved closer. She rested her head against Paige’s chest, letting out a small sigh as she cuddled into her side. It was as if the world outside of the room didn’t exist anymore, the quiet intimacy settling between them. Azzi’s hand found its way across Paige’s stomach, her fingers gently brushing over her skin.

For a moment, Paige tensed as Azzi’s hand grazed over the scar on her torso, a small but noticeable part of her that she had learned to live with but never truly embraced. Paige’s breath hitched ever so slightly, but she didn’t pull away. She flicked her fingers lightly against her side, a small but intentional movement as she fought her body not to react too strongly.

She willed herself to stay still, to just let Azzi be without any hesitation. Paige took a steady breath, tightening her other arm around Azzi, pulling her in just a little closer. She closed her eyes, letting the weight of the night, of their connection, wash over her as she allowed herself to slowly relax into the comfort of the moment.

Azzi’s breath evened out against her chest, signaling that she was starting to drift off, and Paige willed herself to follow shortly after, the steady rhythm of their breathing a lullaby that eased her into sleep.

[darnell-la]

May we have some Logan, maybe Old Man Logan x fem!reader with: breeding kink, non-con or dub-con, forced orgasms, and cumflation? Logan fucks her so hard, for so so long that she starts looking pregnant from how much cum he's pumped into her but he never pulls out so it stays in her?

note: ngl, this Logan has a slight baby-trapping kink when it comes to finding a mutant so young and pretty that wanted him in the first half.

DO NOT READ THIS IF CNC MAKES YOU UNCOMFORTABLE!

———

Logan had been fucking into a girl he picked up from the bar, for hours. When they talked, she could’ve sworn he was a gentleman and would give her the best sex she’d imagined. Only one of those was true.

Logan had been pounding this weak woman for hours. He’s been at it for so long, that when one hole went sore, he switched to the next. He’s been all around the world four times, never giving her a break.

Every now and then, y/n would moan, and make noise, letting Logan know she was still functioning. That never stopped him, though. It only made him want to go further.

“P-Please,” y/n let out for the thousandth time after Logan spilled in her. “Please what? You want more?” Logan asked, knowing she wouldn’t be able to speak a full sentence.

“C-Can’t,” y/n’s weak voice forced anything she could out. “But, you can — I know you can, Bub — I can’t just stop when you’ve given me so much- just feel yourself, princess,” Logan said as his hand brushed against y/n’s heat as his cock kept pushing in and out of her upper hole.

“L-Logan,” y/n whined, only making Logan groan low at his name rolling off of y/n’s tongue. “You know I can’t let you go after this, right, Bub? You’re gonna come on the road with me,”

Because y/n couldn’t speak anymore, she whined, not knowing what to do or think about Logan wanting to take her with him.

She doesn’t have a family, and she’s also a mutant. It wasn’t hard for Logan to figure that out. Maybe that’s why he was so obsessed with her. He’d never run across a mutant this young who’d want to even look at him.

“I’ve got room at my place, baby, don’t worry — We’ll even continue there,” Logan said as he felt his cock twitch once again. Before he released, he flipped y/n over and slammed into her cunt, making sure every inch of him felt the inside of her.

“Fuck,” y/n cried low, feeling Logan fill her up again, and each time, it seems like it was more. “Fuck, Bub — Just look at you,” Logan said as he placed his hands on Y/n’s stomach, softly rubbing across to see her shift.

“I bet you could hold so much more, baby. Can’t you?” Logan asked, instantly making y/n shake her head. She swore if he kept going, her body would shut down. Sadly, her orgasm spoke for her as she gushed around Logan’s cock.

“That’s it — I knew you love me just as much as I love you,”

[hanafubukki]

Can be seen as a continuation for this fic and this one.

Riddle never thought he would be the type of father who would show off photos of his child to his colleagues when given the chance. If someone from Heartslabyul were the type to proudly show off pictures, most would guess Cater or Deuce, or even Trey. It doesn’t take much for Riddle to take out his phone or his wallet where he kept them.

The ones on his phone ranged from cute and proper photos to those taken candidly, angled and blurred in some and others of a face too close to the camera or only of a wide smile seen.

The ones in his wallet weren’t much different. Some were crisp-cut photos, freshly printed. While others are worn with age and many folds and some with cute stickers and decor.

If one were to visit his home, they would see a house filled with frames; of smiles tender and sweet.

Riddle kept every photo ever taken.

He wanted to blame you for the mess in the kitchen caused from baking, but Riddle knew he was just as guilty.

Flour settled on the counter after floating in the air from being flickered at each other.

Giggles heard as the little one drew smiles on the counter from where they stood on the stool.

He blew at the stray strands stuck to his face that were now coated in white.

Smiling at the squeal as he picked up his child and placed them on the counter. He placed the bowl on the little one’s lap and covered their hand with his.

This mess will need to be cleaned up later.

For now, the strawberry tart took precedence.

He lightly nudged you away with his hip and scrunched his nose at you when you asked if he wanted the oyster sauce.

Riddle would watch whenever his mother visited.

His relationship with her was cordial at best.

He respected her for her achievements, but even he knew she wasn’t the mother of the year.

She would make comments about his little one’s studies and development in magic. How they should have their unique magic by now.

Riddle maintained his child would develop it in their own time. Every child’s milestone is different and he felt no need to push his.

It was always a tense affair with her. More of a formal meeting with a boss than meeting a parent.

But she treated her grandchild well enough and with no incidents, he made sure of it.

If one were to ask him what his favorite time of the day was, he would reply nighttime.

Riddle loves reading books. He loves it even more when he reads to his little one.

Reclining on a softly worn leather chair, a blanket wrapped around him and his child as they read a book.

Riddle would let them pick a book and he would read to them. His child would join in at times or question a passage he didn’t understand. He would patiently explain it every time. He would wait as they would try to pronounce a word and gently correct them at times.

He loved to watch as his little one would yawn and curl into him as the activity of the day got to them. His voice would gradually quieten as their breathing deepened.

He would pick them up and carry them to their room. Too old to sleep in his bed but he made sure to tell them they’re always welcome to come in, his door unlocked for them always.

Riddle tucks them into bed, laying a kiss on their head, before leaving.

He joins you in bed.

His world is at peace.

Been in a Riddle feels lately, and then the newest JP twst update came for my throat and inspired this. Riddle doing everything he ever wanted with his family. 🥹💞💚 Never denying his child that love and comfort. He’s at peace 💞🥰🥹

Ngl I debated about Mrs. Rosehearts and her role in his life, and I think I like how I portrayed it here. Despite everything he went through, he still respect her and her achievements. Feelings and relationships are complex after all. But, I also believe he wouldn’t allow history to repeat itself with his child. 🥺🫶

I also thought of the whole parents who are strict becoming less so with grandchildren route but…honestly, that always irked me and gives me mixed feelings. Even irl, it’s like?? You put your child through so much? And suddenly think everything is okay? Or can be changed because you’re older? What about the hurt you caused?

Besides, I see Mrs. Rosehearts stubborn even in her old age lolol 🤣😆

I hope you enjoyed the fic 💞💚 I was probably a bit too telling with my notes but…it’s okay, I feel most of us Riddle fans have similar experiences and can relate to these emotions. 🙏🥺

[blueberrisdove-sideblog]

࿐ ᧔♡᧓ . MYDEI’S DIGITAL LOVE ?!!?!

꒰୨୧꒱ Paring : famous streamer Mydei x big-fan chubby fem!reader

꒰୨୧꒱ Warnings : nsfw/smut, vaginal, internet sex, fingering (yourself), hand-job (he does it to himself), recording/video taping, orgasm control/denial & holding orgasm, dirty talk & degradation, praise kink, exhibitionism (light), mutual masturbation, voice kink, overstimulation, commanding behaviour, size-kink?, Mydei is teasing, reader is shy. (＃＞＜)

꒰୨୧꒱ Summary : You’ve been Mydei’s biggest fan for months, but you never expected him to notice you—until tonight. Out of nowhere, he finally responds to your message you sent him for 3 years, “Let’s talk to camera. ;)” and before you know it, you're face-to-face on a video call with your favorite streamer. His teasing starts instantly, rough voice making you squirm as he pushes you further, watching your every move. What starts as a simple chat turns into something far more sinful—you’re not just another fan tonight, you’re his. (Morden au)

꒰୨୧꒱ Extra : special post since it’s my birthday :3 feb 10th! Also Special post for : @jadestone2 , oh and also you guys are having cybers*x on discord. 😪 This is short btw.

Your heart nearly stops when the notification pops up ;

Mydei69: Let’s talk in camera ;)

Your breath catches in your throat. No way. No way. It’s been four months since you sent that message—three months of watching his streams, liking his posts, replaying clips where his rough, teasing voice made your stomach twist in knots. You never expected him to respond.

Your fingers tremble as you scramble to accept the call, your screen flashing before his face appears—smug, gorgeous, and effortlessly cocky. His eyes flick over you, and the slow smirk that spreads across his lips makes you want to shrink into yourself.

“Damn,” he drawls, voice low and rough. “Didn’t think my biggest fan would be so shy.” Your stomach flips at the way he says it—slow, taunting, like he’s savoring your reaction. You open your mouth to speak, but no words come out. Mydei chuckles, leaning back in his chair, the dim glow of his setup casting sharp shadows over his sharp features.

"Cat got your tongue?" he muses, tilting his head. "Or are you just that nervous to be on cam with me?" You shake your head quickly, heat creeping up your neck. "N-No, I just… I wasn’t expecting you to—"

"Finally respond?" He cuts you off with an amused scoff. "Yeah, I know. Took my time, didn’t I?" His eyes flicker across your screen, studying you. "But you were patient. And now you’ve got me all to yourself." The weight of those words settles in your stomach, heavy and thrilling. It’s just you and him. No chaotic chat, no thousands of watching eyes—just his gaze locked onto you like you’re the only thing that matters.

"Let’s make it worth the wait, yeah?" His voice drops lower, and he leans in, elbows resting on his desk. "Show me how much of a fan you really are."

Your breath hitches. The way he’s looking at you—like he already knows how this is going to go, like he’s expecting you to fall right into his hands—makes your body feel hot all over. "I—I don’t know what you mean," you stammer, even though you do.

Mydei chuckles, shaking his head. "C’mon, don’t play dumb," he says, voice dripping with amusement. "You’ve been watching me for how long? Sending me messages, calling yourself my biggest fan…" He pauses, eyes dark with something unreadable. "So prove it."

You swallow hard, your hands gripping the hem of your shirt. The tension between you is thick, crackling through the screen like a live wire. "What… what do you want me to do?" you ask, voice barely above a whisper. Mydei’s grin widens, predatory. "Good girl," he murmurs, leaning back in his chair, looking like he’s about to enjoy every second of this. "Let’s start simple. Take that off for me."

Your pulse pounds in your ears. You hesitate for only a moment—long enough for Mydei to chuckle again, this time lower, rougher. "Shy thing like you needs a little push, huh?" he muses, eyes locked onto you. "Don’t worry, baby. I’ll take care of you."

Your hands tremble as you grip the hem of your shirt, hesitating just a moment too long. Mydei notices, of course—he notices everything.

"Need me to count down for you?" he teases, cocking his head. "Or do you just like making me wait?" Your breath shudders as you finally pull your shirt over your head, exposing the soft lace of your bra. It’s cute—delicate, pastel-colored, something you picked out on a whim without ever imagining someone like him would see it.

Mydei exhales sharply, his smirk deepening. "Damn," he mutters, his gaze raking over you through the screen. "Didn’t take you for the cute type." He leans in slightly, his voice dipping into something darker. "But I like it. Suits you."

Your face burns at the compliment, at the way he’s staring like he wants to see more. "Go on," he urges, voice smooth and coaxing. "Show me just how much of a good girl you can be." You shift under his gaze, fingers twitching at your sides. The way he's looking at you so intense, so hungry-makes your whole body feel warm, like you're burning up from the inside out.

"You shy now?" Mydei taunts, his voice a perfect mix of amusement and something darker. "Thought you were my biggest fan." You bite your lip, heat pooling in your stomach at the way he's teasing you. He knows exactly what he's doing, and worse-you know it's working. Slowly, you reach behind your back, fumbling with the clasp of your bra. Your full tits revealing, as your cheeks began to redden. The moment it loosens, you hear Mydei inhale softly, his eyes glued to your every movement.

"Fuck," he mutters, his voice rougher now. "Knew you'd be cute under all that." He leans in, resting his chin on his hand as he watches you, completely enthralled. "Bet you've been dreaming about this, huh? Showing off for me. Letting me see you like this." You swallow hard, nodding hesitantly. He grins. "Good girl. Now, let's see how well you listen."

You can’t breathe. Or maybe you’re breathing too hard—your chest rising and falling under his gaze, heat flooding every inch of your skin. The way he’s looking at you, like you’re something worth watching, sends a shiver down your spine.

"That’s it," Mydei murmurs, his voice smoother now, almost like he’s soothing you. But there’s an edge to it, too—something sharp, something dangerous. "Knew you’d be good for me." Your thighs press together at his words, and of course, he notices. His smirk stretches wider, eyes dark with amusement.

"Cute and needy?" He chuckles, shaking his head. "You really are my biggest fan, huh?" You nod without thinking, your face burning. "Good," he says, his voice dropping lower. "Then keep going. I wanna see just how much you can take for me."

Mydei's eyes flick downward, to the camera and you realize—too late—that he's caught you. His smirk sharpens. "Rubbing those thighs together like that," he muses, voice laced with amusement. "You that needy already?" Your breath stutters. You try to stop, but it's impossible-the heat pooling between your legs is too much, the way he's watching you is too much.

He chuckles, low and knowing, "C'mon, baby," he purrs. "Go ahead. Put those pretty fingers to work for me," Your stomach tightens at the command. "Let me see how much of a mess you can make," he adds, his voice thick with anticipation. "Bet you're already soaked for me, huh?"

Your breath comes out shaky, your whole body burning under his gaze. He's not even here, but the way he speaks-like he already owns you, like he knows what you're feeling-has you completely at his mercy.

Slowly, hesitantly, your hand drifts down, slipping beneath the waistband of your panties. The moment your fingers brush against yourself, you gasp—you're already embarrassingly wet, just like he said. Mydei groans softly, eyes glued to the screen. "Knew it," he mutters, voice thick with approval. "So fucking predictable." Your cheeks burn, but the humiliation only makes the ache between your legs worse. "Don't be shy now," he coaxes. "Let me see how pretty you look when you touch yourself for me."

Your breath shudders as your fingers move, the warmth of your own touch making you squirm. Mydei watches through the screen, his sharp eyes locked onto you, his expression shifting into something darker—something possessive. Your other had gripped on your right tit squeezing it gently as you teased your clit. Imagining it was Mydei’s fingers and hands, teasing you.

"That's it, he murmurs, voice lower now, almost approving. "Nice and slow. I want to see everything." He smirked, he pulled down his own pants, as he groaned softly looking at his length that was already leaking with cum. You bite your lip, overwhelmed by the way he's watching you, and stroking himself with his cock. The heat in his gaze making you feel exposed in the best way possible. You've imagined moments like this before, but nothing compares to the real thing—nothing compares to him actually being here, whispering to you, praising you.

"Feels good, doesn't it?" he muses, tilting his head. "Bet it feels even better knowing I'm watching." You nod, your voice caught somewhere in your throat. Mydei chuckles, leaning in just slightly, his smirk deepening. While watching you through the camera. His hand gripping on his dick, as he let out a grunted moan. "G-Good girl," he murmurs. "Keep going. Let me hear you."

You moaned softly, dipping on of your fingers in your tight passage. Velvety walls wrapping around your fingers. As Mydei moaned out loud, "Fuck yeah…just like that." He groaned, as his thumb teased the tip of his cock. Imagining that the head of his cock kissing your cervix.

"G—Gonna cum…" you announced, Mydei’s lidded eyes snapped wide open as he sneered. "Fuck no, baby. I don’t think so. Hold it for me and show me you’re a real fan of mine."

Your whole body tenses at his words, a desperate whimper slipping past your lips. Holding back feels impossible—you’re already trembling, already so close—but the look on Mydei’s face tells you he expects you to obey. "Don’t give me that," he huffs, his hand moving in slow, deliberate strokes. He’s watching you with half-lidded eyes, his jaw tight, his breaths heavier than before. "Real fans know how to listen." You squeeze your eyes shut, trying to hold back the pleasure building inside you, but it only makes it worse. You squeeze your eyes shut, trying to hold back the pleasure building inside you, but it only makes it worse. Mydei notices immediately, his smirk sharp and teasing.

"Struggling, baby?" he taunts, his pace on himself picking up slightly. "That desperate to let go?" You nod frantically, your thighs trembling. He groans lowly, tilting his head back for a brief second before locking eyes with you again. "Fuck—you look so cute when you're holding back for me." His voice is rough now, edged with hunger. "Think you can last a little longer? Be a good girl and wait for me?"

Your entire body is shaking, every muscle tensed as you fight against the overwhelming pleasure surging through you. Mydei's voice is all you can focus on-rough, teasing, controlling. "I-I don't know if I can," you whimper, your voice coming out weak, breathless. His eyes darken, hand still working himself at an unhurried pace. "You can," he corrects, his tone firm but laced with amusement. "You will. Don't tell me my biggest fan is about to let me down."

You shake your head frantically, desperate to prove him wrong. "N—No, I-I wanna be good for you" vou stammer, your voice barely above a whine. That earns you a low, satisfied groan. "That's my girl," he praises, his strokes becoming just a little faster, his breathing heavier. "Hold it a little longer for me, baby. Just a little more."

Your whole body is on fire, every nerve stretched to its limit as you fight to hold back, just like he told you. Mydei watches you intently, his hand moving faster, his chest rising and falling with each ragged breath. "Fuck, look at you," he groans, his voice rougher now, strained with pleasure. "Shaking so bad for me... you really wanna cum, don't you?" You nod frantically, tears pricking at the corners of your eyes. "Please," you beg, voice barely a whisper.

Mydei's breath shudders, his strokes turning almost desperate. "Shit—alright, baby," he rasps. "Cum for me. Now." The second he gives you permission, the pleasure crashes over you, white—hot and overwhelming. Your body trembles as you cry out, giving in completely, your mind hazy with nothing but bliss.

Mydei isn't far behind. His jaw clenches, his brows furrow, and with a deep, guttural groan, he spills over his hand, his body shuddering through his release. For a moment, the only sound between you is your uneven breathing. Mydei leans back, running a hand through his hair, his smirk returning as he watches you try to catch your breath. "Damn," he mutters, his voice still rough. "Best fan interaction I've ever had."

Your body is still trembling, aftershocks of pleasure coursing through you as you try to catch your breath. Mydei watches you with a lazy smirk, his chest still rising and falling from his own release. But then—his eyes darken again, that cocky glint returning as he tilts his head. "We're not done yet, baby," he murmurs, voice low and teasing. Your breath hitches, eyes widening slightly. "W-What?" He chuckles, sitting up straighter, his fingers still lazily stroking himself, already regaining his composure. "What kind of streamer would I be if I left my biggest fan unsatisfied?" His voice drops, rough and full of intent. "Now be good and spread those legs for me again."

Your breath catches in your throat as you stare at him, your body still tingling from the intensity of your release. But Mydei isn't done—not even close. His dark eyes rake over you, his smirk softening just a little, but the hunger is still there. "You look so pretty like this," he murmurs, voice lower now, almost... tender. "Flushed, breathless, all for me." Your heart stutters at the way he says it—less like a tease, more like he means it.

"You really are my biggest fan, huh?" he muses, stroking himself lazily, watching the way your thighs twitch. "But I think." He trails off for a second, his expression shifting into something unreadable. "I think I might be your biggest fan now." The words send a different kind of heat through you, something deeper, something that lingers. Mydei chuckles when he sees the way you react, but there's no mocking edge to it this time—just warmth.

"Didn't think this would happen." he admits, his hand slowing, his gaze softening even as he stays locked onto you. "But fuck, baby... I don't think I can let you go now." Your breath shudders. "Mydei..." His smirk turns into something almost affectionate. "Yeah, baby," he murmurs, his eyes full of something deeper than lust, something real. "You're mine now. And I'm yours."

© 2024-2025 blueberrisdove-sideblog all rights reserved. pretty please, do not steal my dividers, translate and plagiarize any of my works, or either repost my works in any other platform without asking, thank you!

[thewitchandtheassassin]

Life, Death, and the Space in Between Part Four (Agatha Harkness x Reader x Rio Vidal)

Summary: Every action has a consequence.

Words: 1540

Warnings: Arguments, talks of death, canon death, language?

A/N: I'm alive. I haven't forgotten this. I also have Covid so forgive me. K, thanks!

-X-

Agatha’s feet carried her forward, through endless expanse as she searched for Nicky before—

Two small, thin arms wrapped around her, his head pressing against her stomach as he barreled into her. “Mama!” his voice cracked, burrowing deeper into her grasp.

Breath catching painfully in her chest, Agatha sunk to her knees, gathering him into her arms and just… holding him, silent tears streaming down her face. He smelled just like she remembered—of earth and rain and everything good in her world. Everything good she’d ever done.

-X-

Trembling hands caressed your face, wiping away sweat and tears as your breathing grew shallow, lips paling.

“W-what’s happening?” Teen asked nervously, flinching at Rio’s cold, unwavering glare.

“Which part? The part where you shouldn’t exist right now and neither should this godforsaken Road? How your powers just sent (Y/N) and Agatha into the realm of the afterlife because you can’t control your abilities? Or the part where—” Rio choked on her words, staring down at your unmoving body, “—Life is dying?”

Teen’s jaw dipped open, eyes wide with horror. “W-what?”

The other witches took a step back, sensing the brewing storm within Rio, eyes flickering between the boy and the scene before them.

“You, Teen, are Billy Maximoff. Son of the Scarlet Witch and the creator of the Witch’s Road. Congratulations, you’ve turned a con into a reality and in doing so, have damned Life to die because you briefly gave Agatha Harkness enough power to drag my other half into the fucking afterlife!” her words were sharp, cracking around the edges. “The living can’t come back from the afterlife! In letting Agatha have exactly what she wanted, Life made a choice… and she…”

Shaking fingers drifted along your cheeks.

“God, why did you do it?” she asked your still form. “You idiot. You stupid, wonderful, selfless idiot.”

“Wait, wait, hold up. (Y/N) is Life?” Jenn repeated, her eyes jumping between you and Rio. “So does that make you—”

“Death,” Lilia finished, though it wasn’t a question.

Tilting her head slightly, Rio’s eyes never left you. “Ding, ding, ding. Thank you for playing, witches. So, unless anyone has any useful ideas right this second, I need you all to shut the hell up while I think.”

For once…

The Road was silent.

And Rio had no ideas of how to solve this fucking mess.

-X-

Staggering towards Agatha and Nicky, you forced your body to keep moving, even as the afterlife demanded more from you the longer Agatha remained. Seeing her clinging to Nicky tugged at your heart and you hated yourself for what you were about to do. Dragging her away.

“Mommy!” Nicky gasped, peering over Agatha’s shoulder at you, his excitement fading into worry. “Are you okay? You don’t look okay.”

Stiffening slightly, Agatha glanced over her shoulder at you, eyes widening at the blackening veins pulsing on your face, the paleness of your lips, the shadows nipping at your heels…

“Hey, baby,” you rasped, collapsing beside Agatha and gently combing your fingers through his long hair. “I uh… I’m okay. I have to take Mama home though. I’m sorry, we can’t stay.”

Nicky’s expression dropped but he nodded. “I know. It’s not Mama’s time.”

Reaching up, his small hand touched your cheek, knowing something’s wrong even if he can’t understand it. His other hand touched Agatha’s.

“Please stop fighting,” he whispered to Agatha, holding her gaze. “It wasn’t their fault. Someday, we’ll be a family. All of us. You and Mommy and Mami… we’ll all be happy again.”

Maybe it’s the light shining in his eyes or the actual health keeping his face colored or maybe it’s the confidence in his voice but something—even if she didn’t want to admit it—began to warm in her chest, regret flooding into her eyes as she really took you in. How sick you suddenly seemed. The way you were panting, despite not needing air. The way your glow seemed…

Dim.

Smiling softly—in pain, in heartbreak—you grabbed Agatha’s hand and tangled your fingers together before closing your eyes, yanking both of you back into your bodies before she could try and stop you.

Then…

There was only darkness.

-X-

Agatha awoke with a gasp, sitting upright abruptly. The Road. She was on the Road again—lying in the wet mud—but…

Glancing around, she saw everyone surrounding… something.

“And here I thought this coven would be happy to know I’m fine,” she half-joked, staggering to her feet and wandering over to group, almost offended by the lack of reaction. “Really feeling the sisterhood here.”

Before she could even reach the circle, Rio’s hand was wrapped around her neck, shoving her into a tree. Scathing remarks on the tip of her tongue, she froze at the look of absolute fury on Rio’s face. Of all the things she’d said and done over the centuries, she’d never been on the receiving end of this expression…

This hatred.

“Agatha Harkness, you selfish, thoughtless woman! Hate me all you want but she—” Rio choked on her words, emotion swimming so deeply in her eyes that it nearly stole Agatha’s breath. “—she always saw the best in you. Forgave you for whatever you said; whatever you did. But this? Do you have any idea what you’ve done? What fucking mess you’ve caused? No, because you don’t ever think about anyone other than yourself!”

“What are you talking about?” Agatha choked out, fingers wrapping around Rio’s wrist in an attempt to loosen her grip.

Dragging her by her throat over to your body, Rio snarled, “Look!”

There, motionless on the ground, you lied. Pale in the moonlight of the Road, eyes fluttering, chest barely rising—

You looked like a damn corpse, something Agatha never once expected to see. You, so full of energy and life, snuffed out like a candle in a windstorm, only embers remaining where your flames once burned. Your fingers twitched, as if reaching out for something unseen but too weak to find.

“Nothing living can return from the afterlife. It demands a price, a price, for any mortal that passes through—and she fucking paid yours.” Rio’s lip trembled, staring at the dying body of her counterpart.

Her perfect other half.

For the first time in her existence, Agatha Harkness was struck speechless. You, who always stood by her side even when she screamed and raged and hated… you, who vowed to love her even as Agatha scorched the earth around her… you who could’ve left her to the afterlife…

“(Y/N),” she breathed, dropping to her knees beside you, a trembling hand reaching out to touch your face, only to be caught by Rio and yanked away, nearly knocked backwards onto her ass.

“Don’t fucking touch her,” she hissed, carefully lifting your body into her arms to cradle you to her chest. Feeling the way your heartbeat was waning beneath her palm. Sluggish. Barely beating. “You’ve done enough.”

Agatha’s lips parted, but no words came. There was nothing she could say. For once, the woman who had spoken her way into and out of every situation imaginable—who always found an angle to tip the scales in her favor—was utterly, horrifyingly speechless. For all her dark knowledge… she was completely unprepared.

A broken, strangled sound escaped her lips, and she moved again, reaching for you instinctively. “Rio, please—”

“No,” Rio spat, pulling you tighter against her chest. Her arms curled around you as if shielding you from the very woman who had caused this, her visage flickering for a split second. An unspoken warning. “You don’t get to ask anything of me. Of her. Not anymore.”

Agatha recoiled like she’d been struck, breath hitching sharply in her throat. She wanted to argue, to lash out, to fix this—but there was nothing she could say, nothing she could do. For the first time, she actually felt how powerless she really was.

"Please, baby," Rio whispered, this time directed at you. At the barely-there rise and fall of your chest. "Stay with me. Don’t leave me; I can’t do this without you."

But even as she begged, even as she reached for something unseen, something that was already slipping between her fingers, trying to call upon something—anything, the truth sat heavy in the air.

You were dying.

And there wasn’t a damn thing Death could do to stop it.

Jenn took a step forward, hesitant. “There has to be something we can do.” Her voice wavered, but there was determination in her eyes, staring at your still body. “Life isn’t a mortal, so that means the afterlife can’t just… take her.”

Rio let out a bitter laugh, low and humorless. “Oh, sure. Go ahead, Jenn. If you have a way to defy the fundamental laws of existence and the cosmos and the afterlife I’ve cultivated for millennia, be my guest. Clearly a bunch of half-assed witches know more than an actual cosmic entity.”

Jenn bristled but she kept quiet, knowing this wasn’t just anger—this was unadulterated grief. The panic of not being able to stop what felt inevitable.

And if they didn’t hurry…

There would be no life left to save.

[berrybore]

I 100% agree that canon Sally made choices against Percy’s best interest at times but I don’t necessarily think Gabe was one of them.

Let me explain, we do know that Sally knew about Poseidon and camp, there’s a very really possibility that she also knew about the prophecy to an extent. As in, she must have known her son would be in a crazy amount of danger just for being born. We know from the text that Poseidon waited until the last moment he could before claiming Percy, until his powers essentially revealed to the whole camp who he was. That’s how dangerous it was for him to be found out.

I really don’t think Percy should have been raised at camp, that fact that he had a well-meaning, loving mother is one of the biggest things that set him apart from Luke.

I do think she should have sent him to camp earlier than she did but not years earlier like maybe you were suggesting. I also agree that it was an inherently selfish decision to keep him close. She certainly didn’t do him any favors by sending him away to boarding school after boarding school where he was always the new kid, always harassed, and even physically punished by the teachers in one of them (staff of Hermes).

She was in an impossible situation and she made choices purely out of survival not stability or safety cause they had neither. But this way he wouldn’t be outright killed. But Percy is a child and he needs both, so he grows up with low self esteem, neglected, abused emotionally and physically, and without a single friend in the world with how often he changes schools. He can’t talk to his mother either because she’s a little in denial and when Percy asks hard questions she gets emotional, and he feels guilty when he upsets his mom so he stops asking altogether.

(I do believe that she went into the relationship with Gabe with her eyes open and maybe that made it harder for her to admit to herself that she was stuck, that the man she was sure she could face down near damn swallowed her whole, because she chose this, of course in her mind she was still in control but I digress. )

I think as soon as Grover and Chiron were in the picture she should have told him. Instead she told Grover not to do anything. There was a fury at the school, he was found out and attacked, why was he still there for an entire semester after the incident?

We know they didn’t tell her about the fury because we know she didn’t know. Chiron mishandled that big time because it was at that point that it became evident that whatever scent Gabe was hiding wasn’t working. Him following her wishes to the point of keeping Percy at school after an attack from a kindly one without even informing his mother of what happened is actually crazy. Hades found him and sent him a fury to his school. Right under chirons nose. Percy was serving detention with her late into the night sometimes. They should have called Sally and taken Percy to camp together. Instead he was gaslit by everyone to the point of questioning his sanity. Ran away form Grover when they met the fates and Grover still refused to say a word. Didn’t say anything to his mom because why would he at this point, who would even believe him?. Not to mention the very traumatic introduction to the demigod life by watching his mother die right in front of him.

I just think about all the individual choices that Sally, Grover, and Chiron made that led to that night on half blood hill and I think how much it didn’t need to happen.

All three of them failed him.

Sally Jackson choice safety over stability in terms of how she'd take care of her child. Both her and Percy faced years abuse by the hands of one man. Does this make her a good mother who was in over her head or an unprepared one making an impulsive decision?

You found the one hot take even I haven’t dared say aloud yet, because I think it may just be my most unpopular opinion in this fandom. One thing everyone in this fandom seems to agree on is the “universal truth” that Sally Jackson is the best mother in the history of fictional mothers. So, here’s my hot take:

Sally Jackson is not that perfect mother the fandom pretends she is.

Sally during the series? Presented as a loving and good mother. But to get to that point? Pre-series Sally is not written as a good mom; she’s written as a plot-device with the things the author needs to happen in mind and not the motivation of a good mother who prioritizes her child’s happiness and safety in mind.

And I’ll back that claim up with three ways in which Sally has failed Percy as a mother. Not just once, but repeatedly, for years.

But before we get into that, I’d like to switch what you said first. Sally Jackson chose stability over safety. Sally chose the stability of keeping her child at her side over said child’s safety. She made an inherently selfish decision that was not with her child’s best interest and overall safety in mind.

Now, the first - and most obvious one - is Smelly Gabe.

And before I can elaborate on that, I need to clarify one very important thing here, before anyone goes “don’t blame the victim!” on me: Sally Jackson is not a victim; she’s a fictional character. Fictional characters can be written as victims, but they are not autonomous people who make their own choices; their choices are very deliberately made by their author for them. And I want to look at the choices that went into writing her this way, writing her story this way.

Real abuse victims get stuck in abusive relationships for a variety of reasons and they don’t get out of them for equally various reasons. Most of the time, it’s something like “he was so sweet and kind at first, but by the time he showed his real face, it was too late” (and, as a note to that; Percy describes Gabe as having been nice to them for a total of thirty seconds before showing his real face. Now while that is, of course, and exaggeration, it still goes to say that Gabe was pretty much upfront about what kind of person he was).

I’ve never heard one start with “he was the most disgusting, grossest man I could possibly find”. Sally Jackson chose this man. Not just in the way one picks a partner. She went out there and chose the stinkiest, grossest man.

It was a deliberate choice on Riordan’s part to have Sally choose an abusive relationship over sending her son away for his own safety. And this decision did not keep Percy safe; Percy Jackson was abused in his own home, by a horribly stinking man, for six years of his life. That’s not keeping your child safe.

The choice was not made to keep Percy safe; the choice was made to keep Percy with Sally. It was inherently selfishly motivated; she didn’t want to send him away, she wanted to keep him with her.

Sally loves Percy, she loves him dearly and fiercely, I’m not arguing that. But that love led to her not wanting to let go of him. And sometimes, parenting means making tough choices, sometimes loving someone means you have to make a tough decision.

In this case, the “tough decision” is presented as Sally bravely putting up with six years of abuse at Gabe’s hand. That’s the narrative chosen by the author.

But the actual “tough decision” would have been to send Percy to Camp Half-Blood, where he would have been safe. That’s the tough choice a mother would have had to make to keep her child safe.

That’s the tough choice the parents of most of the year-rounders have made. Mister Beauregard sent his daughter all the way from Paris to New York to give her this safety. The distance alone guaranteeing he wouldn’t see her for years potentially - because flying between New York and Paris is not necessarily easily affordable for everyone. Sally’s option was to send Percy to a camp that’s literally one and a half hours away. She could have still seen him, he could have easily visited her.

But her solution was to mask Percy’s scent by marrying a stinking, gross, abusive man.

Let me just stretch once more: Sally’s choice did not keep Percy safe. Sally’s choice made their home unsafe. It brought the danger and pain into their home. It may have moderately protected Percy from monsters - until The Lightning Thief kicked in - but it did not keep Percy actually safe, because it put him into a different kind of danger and through a different kind of pain.

For six years. And, this is where the “not a real person but a fictional character” thing comes up again, because this isn’t a woman where one choice leads to a date with a man which leads to a relationship which leads to abuse that she doesn’t know how to get out of anymore. She is a fictional character whose journey was set out to end with her being in an abusive relationship.

And we also don’t know why she didn’t get out of it. She’s not a real person, we don’t know if she was so scared of Gabe that she didn’t know how to leave, if her lack of a support system is what led to her not leaving him, or if it was the motivation of not giving up Percy. The real, actual reason is that Riordan wanted to keep her in there and keep Percy out of the loop until he was twelve and The Lightning Thief could happen. Because she was able of getting rid of him as soon as the truth unravelled and Percy met camp.

And I’d like to use the way she did that to drive back home just how bad Gabe was, just how bad the situation Sally and Percy were in for six years, really was.

She murders him. She flat-out murders him. Both, her and Percy, together. This twelve-year old child who we meet and get to know as kind and not... not a murder-child, is ready to kill a man. That’s how badly Gabe abused them; both of these kind people chose murder to get rid of him.

And it’s just something I’ve never gotten over. Riordan really made the decision that his protagonist’s mom would rather get them both into an abusive home than give Percy up to camp. That was his decision; there could have been other ways. One thing that would have made this seem less like a deliberate choice would have, for example, been Sally not knowing about camp.

If she was a desperate mother, who saw no other options? That’d have made the situation different too. But we know Sally knew about camp. She knew there was a place she could send her son where he would be safe from the monsters, but she decided against that, she decided that she wanted to keep him close, at any costs - and the cost was six years of abuse.

I do not think that this decision should be framed as a heroic sacrifice, because the fact that she knew of an actually safe solution and decided against it was inherently selfish. She did not put up with six years of abuse for selfless reasons because there was “no other way”; there was, she knew that, but the author didn’t want her to take that.

Sometimes, the sacrifice is letting go of your child. And, as mentioned before, she wouldn’t have let go of him for good - camp is in the same bloody city as she is living. Literally one and a half hours away from her.

Now on to the other two ways in which I think Sally Jackson failed Percy.

For one, the lies about his father. Now, real people who are left by their partner with a baby, they can pick whatever to tell their kids whenever. But, again, this is a fictional character and the author makes the decision for her. And this, again, was a decision made solely based on the end result; Riordan needed Percy to not be in the know by the time The Lightning Thief came around, even though from a character-perspective, telling Percy the truth earlier would have been the logical and right decision.

If your kid is a demigod who is attracting real actual monsters with his scent alone? Percy started really attracting monsters when he was six years old and for the next six years, Sally didn’t disclose the truth to him; not about monsters, not about his father, not about the fact that Percy may have powers.

Percy attracted so many monsters that it led to Sally getting married to Gabe. That’s how badly he attracted monsters. Which also implies that Percy must have seen monsters. We get to see in The Lightning Thief just how much Percy thinks he’s going crazy with the things he sees. And that’s  been going on for six years too - six years and in those, his scent only got stronger.

This, again, isn’t just one decision she made. This is a decision she made every single day over and over again. The decision not to tell Percy about his father, the powers, the simple reassurance that he’s not going insane, that monsters are real. This was Percy’s reality and it would obviously only become more and more of an issue the older Percy got, but every single day, she chose not to tell him, to let him believe not just a lie but also steadily that he was going crazy.

And it’d have gone a long way if he had just known. Even with Gabe in their life, even if she hadn’t made the choice to send him to camp at age six, it’d have helped him so much to know the truth and be prepared for this life.

Because this wasn’t just an issue of “the guy left me, I don’t want to talk about it with my kid”, this was inherently about, once more, Percy’s safety. Knowing what to watch out for, knowing the thing you should watch out for is actually real, are huge factors in Percy’s safety. Having him as well-prepared as possible.

She knew his father was Poseidon. It’s not even that she had sex with some dude, not knowing who he was. She knew he was Poseidon. She knew what Percy’s parentage was, she must have observed the slow development of Percy’s powers over the years.

But again, she chose to leave him in the dark about it. He could have been well-prepared by age twelve. Read up everything on Poseidon, experimented with potential powers he may have, understanding why the fishes in the aquarium are talking to him and that he is not actually hearing voices, learning.

But that’s not useful for the author; Riordan wants an unprepared Percy who can be used to introduce this world to the reader.

The choice to not tell Percy the truth about his father and about being a demigod was made deliberately and, again, not in Percy’s best interest. And in this case, there really is no other interpretation left aside from “the author needs it to happen this way” - with Gabe, there is the legitimate argument that she may have been at one point just an abused woman stuck in a relationship with no out because we don’t know enough to know what her motivation and situation were exactly - but there is... no benefit at all in lying to Percy about this, no reason for it.

The moment he first started being in actual life-threatening danger because monsters came after him, it became a pressing matter to tell him what monsters are, that they are real and why they are after him and to prepare him for it.

Which brings me to the third instance.

She never prepared him - even just in a mortal manner. Even if we let the first two - the marriage to Gabe and the lies about his father - stand as they are, Sally could have done something very simple to prepare Percy for his life and to help keeping him safe.

Self-defense classes. Judo. Martial arts. Sword-fighting classes. Whatever.

Many parents teach their kids these kind of things from a young age. Parents whose kids aren’t in constant danger of being attacked by monsters. One of your first parental instincts should be to teach your kid to be safe; to protect themselves. Give him the means to fight back.

So, that’s it. That’s the three very vital and important instances in which I think Sally failed Percy as a mother; not just once, but repeatedly, for years.

Instead of sending him to a safe place where he could learn about his heritage and learn control of his powers as well as learning how to fight the monsters after his life, she chose to marry an abusive, smelly man whose scent would mask Percy’s. Probably. Hopefully. But it didn’t really, not all the time. As shown by The Lightning Thief and monsters coming after Percy. And Percy starts to think he’s crazy, because at no point did she tell him about the monsters, and at no point does he really know how to fight for his life, because at no point did she put the means to defend himself into his hands.

No. No, I do not think that those are the decisions a good mother would make. Those are decisions the author made because he knew the starting point of his story and he knew where Percy’s character needed to be for that.

The thing that’s glossed over are the choices Riordan implicitly made Sally make. To get to this point for Percy, at age 12, he had to make Sally repeatedly act against Percy’s best interests and deliberately not tell Percy the truth or teach him way to stay safe. So he masks those choices by putting on a framework that’s meant to make you only look at her suffering and the outcome, not the choices that led to it. That was Riordan’s choice and he framed it in a way that the fandom ate up and celebrates, when... neither Sally, nor Riordan, had do to that. There was another option on the table and, if Riordan had sat down and thought hard, I’m pretty sure there would have been more options.

The bottom line, what Sally’s parenting comes down to in the end, is that she and Percy got stuck with an abusive man for six years, because she didn’t want to send him to an actual safe place, she spent six years essentially gaslighting Percy about the things he hears/sees by not telling him the monsters are actually real and she repeatedly left him in unnecessary danger by not giving him the means to defend himself in any way whatsoever. And those are not signs of good parenting, not in my book.

But it’s just so much easier to ignore all of that and pretend that blue candy and trips to Montauk are the end all be all and that Sally’s fierce love for her son is the most defining trait of parenting. I know that. Most of the time, I’m right there with you - I love fanon!Sally, I love to pretend she’s the best mom ever and never did anything wrong, because I know the decisions are inherently made by Riordan and are a by-product; I know he wants her to be a good mother, I know throughout the series, he writes her as a good and loving mother.

But if I have to be honest and if I look at the whole text, including the implications of their past, canon!Sally isn’t that good of a mother.

[lydiasfalling]

PINS AND NEEDLES

percy jackson x athena!reader

➸✧˖*°࿐ taglist : open!

˗ˋˏ warnings : use of y/n, post breakup, angst, possible part two??? ˎˊ-

‧₊˚✧ lydia’s yap fest ! ✧˚₊‧

post breakup yearning? sign me up. also i’ve never ever written athena reader cause it feels too much like writing myself and i don’t want to project but i hope u guys enjoy!!! (unedited!)

it had been exactly three weeks, two days, and six hours since you and percy jackson had broken up. now, while it pained you to admit, you missed him. your friends would tell you that you couldn’t miss him. not when you had left him the way you did. truth is, life as a demigod was hard. having no guarantees that you would even be alive tomorrow was a hard pill to swallow. it had gotten to a point where it felt wrong to give percy another weight on his back. he was already under the pressure of saving the world, he didn���t need a relationship to balance on it.

first came the arguing. it had become a staple for the recent era of your relationship. you would bring up the idea of taking a break, which he would turn down. he refused to hear you out whatsoever. then came the silent treatment. he couldn’t stand how every time you’d spoken, you would flip it back to the topic of breaking up. he thought better to just ignore the problem all together. finally, came the blow up. you two had found a rare moment of peace amongst the war. his fingered takes through your wet hair as you laid on his lap. you had again decided to bring up the topic again. the resulted in the fight. breaking up wasn’t easy, but something you saw necessary.

now, you paced in your cabin. these past few weeks had been a personal tartarus for you ( and you assumed percy, or he-who-shall-not-be-named ). every little thing reminded you of him. the smell of the lake you’d spend hours swimming in. the fields you would run through hand-in-hand. the bed you would spend hours having—well, you get the point. every corner held a memory. this realization made you want to rip your scalp clean off.

however, no matter how much you would deny it, you were still hopelessly in-love with perseus jackson. watching him from a far made you realize just how lucky you had been to call him yours. the beauty of his soul was one you wish could be captured and put in a jar for everyone to admire. the selfish part of you wanted that jar on your nightstand. you decided now was the time. you would finally leave the comfort of your cabin and venture into the camp. your siblings were sure that you were aware how many times percy had asked them about you. he told them to make sure you got proper care since he couldn’t be the one to do so. you knew he’d be happy to see you getting dressed to leave.

“y/n? you coming?” your sister had asked you. it was just about to be lunch.

“mhm. give me one moment.” the mirror showed you what you had dread seeing. heavy purple bags laid under your eyes. your cheeks seemed hollow. people would argue that you couldn’t be sad since you broke up with him, but they didn’t understand. you and percy were—by definition—joined at the hip. you did everything together. now the color had been drained out of usually exciting things.

“any day now.” you joined your sister at the doorframe, stepping out into the sun. the aroma of camp consumed your senses, putting you at a momentary state of ease. this ended soon as you felt the formalist presence of a certain brunette boy. his aura was contagious. you could feel him radiating half way across the world. however, he was unusually dull. turning around, you finally came face to face with percy.

“i. . . uh. . . hi, ang—y/n. didn’t see ya there.” even in the awkward atmosphere, he still managed to bring your shoulders down and your brows to relax.

“mhm. . .” you didn’t truly speak, scared of what would leave your mouth. you quickly turned back around and began to shuffle away. percy hand caught your wrist in record time.

“can we, ya know, talk? i don’t think i got to say my piece when everything went down.” he kept his hand on your skin, goosebumps trailing up your arm at the feeling. you ripped you arm away as if the touch had burned you.

“now’s not a great time.”

“okay, well, when is a good time?” he shifted on his heels

“sometime. . . other. . . than now?” you said, though it sounded more like a question to both of you.

“what happened?” he questioned, an exasperated look coming over his features.

“what?” you asked.

“to us! what happened to us? i mean. . .fuck, y/n. i was in love with you. scratch that. i am in love with you. and im trying really. really hard to respect your decision. but how can i? how can i walk past you every single day knowing im so beyond in love with i can’t even function? i cant even think about battle anymore. it’s you. you occupy every thought from the moment i wake up to the moment i fall to sleep. it’s painful.”

“it’s for the best.” you whispered.

“bullshit! i think you’re just scared!” his volume increased, causing other campers to turn in your direction.

“lower your voice, percy.” you smiled at everyone, hoping they would stop listening. “like i said, this really isn’t a good time.” you left soon after those words left your mouth, not allowing him any time to protest.

“y/n!” he called after you. you simply pretended not to hear it as you re-entered your cabin, slamming the door behind you.

taglist : @laufeysvalentine @cowboylikemac @lydiascabinsix @raysmayhem-72

my masterlist

[hencheri]

if you ever get the chance, watch squid game s2 (or s1 if you haven’t, top tier) but, your racer heeseung got me thinking.

racer!jeno (or anybody, i don’t care as long as it’s fitting) who comes to your car repairs shop late at night to get some paint fixed on his car. when it comes time to pay he makes sure to give you a big tip. you tell him that there’s no need but he wasn’t talking about cash. despite the protests, he bends you over the front of his car while he holds your wrists in his hand while he thrusts into you, the side of your cheek practically stuck to the car from the paint drying :/ he asks you what a women’s doing fixing cars and shit anyways. when he’s finally finished and he pulls you off the car, you swear your skin ripped off from how much paint had combined you and the car together. he looks over your shoulder and the side of your face was completely embedded in your car. he tells you he thinks he’ll keep it there, and you know what? maybe he wants your ass to be printed on the top of his car too? maybe he wants your tits to be embedded on his passenger door too. it doesn’t matter, the next race he’s in, everybody’s gonna be wondering who’s face that is on the front of his car.

it’s got to be written because my mind is going absolutely wild

18+ mdni.

warnings: noncon, misogyny.

racer!jeno is perfect, especially since i've been craving him really badly lately... honestly, it's something i would have never thought of, that's so out of pocket (in a good way). i know he's mad af when he comes to the garage and he sees you, like, really? a girl, repairing his car?

you ignore his comments at first because you honestly hear it all so often... "isn't there anybody else working?", "you? the mechanic?", "you're sure you won't break my car even more?", stuff like that... when he comes to check on the job you've done, it pisses him off that everything seems completely fine bcs he can't complain. but he pays you the right amount, but when your back is turned, he takes a hold of your neck, pulling you to his chest. he wants a little extra, a bonus. after all, that's what you're here for, right? to serve him, use you how he sees fit.

he bends you over the hood of his car, your hands flat on it, trying to keep your balance as he fucks you brutally. he's merciless and rough; he has a point to make. you're made to take cock, be a little cum dump, nothing else. and he fully believes it by the end of it, taking a fistful of your hair and bringing you flush to his chest once again. his eyes burn into your face and honestly, he's never been so painfully hard.

but also... i see the opposite, you coming to have your car repaired; brakes too rusty, oil change... idk, something like that, something real simple. with the model of the car, he fully thinks the owner is a man, but when he sees you, his jaw clenches, biting the inside of his cheek. apparently, you do car races. well, you think you do because he knows someone like you could never handle a race. he wants to scoff in your face, but he holds back.

the garage slowly empties, only you and jeno remaining as you come to pay him. when you hand him the money, he reaches for it, but unexpectedly grab your wrist, bending you over the counter. he shoves the side of your face onto the surface, squishing your cheek against it. he snarls at you, talking about "it's no place for a woman, who do you think you are? driving a car way too powerful for you". you're a dumb little girl if you think he won't demand you an extra.

[ivyues]

Chasing Yesterday | 5 | - Bang Chan

Bang Chan x lost connection trainee friend

Years after splitting paths, Bang Chan didn't expect a simple text to bring an old friend – and old feelings – back into his life.

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5

After countless late nights together, the song was finally complete. Now, as you sat at your desk, gazing at the finished track on your laptop, a smile tugged at your lips – reflecting on the journey that had brought you here. 

Here, where your relationship with Chris had deepened to the point where you could proudly call yourself his girlfriend. If his bandmates had their way, though, you were already more than that; they jokingly referred to you as their "mother" behind your back. You knew it was only a matter of time before they let it slip in your presence. The more you got to know them, the clearer it became – they would seize any opportunity to tease your dear boyfriend. After all, that was just their way of showing love.

Your phone buzzed, breaking your thoughts. His name flashed across the screen, and without hesitation, you answered.

“Hey,” you greeted, already knowing why he was calling.

“Hey baby,” Chris’ voice came through, warm and familiar. “Did you finish it?”

“Just exported the final mix,” you confirmed, leaning back in your chair. “I’ll send it over now.”

There was a beat of silence before he asked, “Are you sure?”

You frowned slightly. “Of course. I mean, you put in just as much work as I did. If you want to use it for the group, go ahead. I don’t even need credit if it’ll keep things from getting messy.” You tried to keep your tone light, teasing. “As long as you know that I also gave birth to this song.”

Chris chuckled, but there was something thoughtful in the sound. “I know,” he murmured. “But… I wasn’t planning on releasing it.”

You blinked, caught off guard. “What? But why? I thought you guys did some special songs for one of your concerts? It’s a great song after all, Chris. And you worked so hard on it, we both did—”

“I know,” he interrupted gently. “But some things don’t need to be seen by the whole world.”

Something in the way he said it made your heart stutter.

You swallowed, warmth spreading through your chest. “So you want to keep it just for us?”

“Yeah.” His voice was soft, sincere. “It can be just ours.”

A comfortable silence settled between you for a moment before Chris hesitated. You could hear the way he inhaled, slow and measured, as if he were preparing himself for something.

“Speaking of the concerts…” he sighed, the weight of his thoughts heavy in his voice. “I don’t want you feeling like you have to… but how would you feel about coming to one of ours? You don’t have to, it’s totally okay if you don’t. I just don’t want to not ask you in case you wanted—”

You cut him off before he could spiral further. “Chris, I don’t want to think about what could have been. I just want to support you and enjoy it.”

He was quiet for a moment before he exhaled, a mix of relief and something more complicated. “I just… I don’t want to show you what you could have had, even though it was never something you could have.”

You understood what he meant – understood the way his heart worked, always worrying, always caring too much. And yet, you had already made peace with the past.

-----

The concert was electrifying. You had seen Chris perform before, but never like this. He commanded the stage effortlessly, pouring raw energy into every lyric. It was mesmerizing. The bass thrummed through your chest, and every time his gaze flickered to your spot in the crowd, a secret smile tugged at your lips.

As you made your way towards the exit, your phone buzzed in your pocket.

Meet me backstage? 😉

You rolled your eyes fondly and typed back a quick On my way.

Security let you through without question – Chris had clearly made arrangements. Weaving past the crew packing up equipment, you found a quiet spot near the wall, pulling out your phone while you waited. The adrenaline from the concert still hummed in your veins, but you were content, scrolling idly through your notifications.

A sudden presence slid up beside you, too close, too fast.

“Heeey.”

A firm nudge against your shoulder sent you jolting forward with a startled yelp, your phone nearly slipping from your grasp. Heart racing, you turned sharply – only to find Chris grinning like a mischievous kid.

“You—” You smacked his arm, half-gasping, half-laughing. “I hate you.”

“Liar.” 

His eyes twinkled as he nudged you again, softer this time. He was practically vibrating with post-concert energy, the rush of the performance still coursing through him. His skin glowed with sweat, his hair a tousled mess, but he had never looked happier.

From a few meters away, a familiar voice cut through your flustered silence.

“Smooth move, man. Scare her—solid strategy.”

Chris only grinned wider, shameless. “Worked, didn’t it?”

You groaned, while he laughed, wrapping an arm around you and pulling you close. The warmth of his hold, the lingering thrill of the night, and the teasing lilt in his voice made it impossible to stay mad.

He leaned in, his voice quieter now – just for you. “I’m glad you came.”

You sighed, relenting, and let yourself melt into his embrace. “Yeah,” you murmured. “Me too.”

Before you could say more, Chris’s gaze flicked toward the stage area, his expression shifting.

“Oh—JYP’s here.”

You frowned. “What?”

He leaned in, lowering his voice. “Yeah, I just found out. They called me to film something with him real quick.”

Your breath hitched. Your eyes widened slightly before you quickly schooled your expression.

Chris noticed. “Wanna say hi?”

You scoffed, shaking your head. “He’s never gonna remember me.”

Before he could argue, movement in your periphery caught your attention. A group – including said person himself, some members, a manager, and a few staff – was on their way to pass by where you were standing, presumably for better lighting.

Your stomach twisted slightly. The last time you saw that person, you were told that you didn't make it, that you weren't enough.

At first, he barely glanced at you. But then, as you greeted him casually, his gaze snapped back, his expression shifting. Recognition flickered across his face before his eyes widened.

“Wait… Do I know you?”

Chris looked between you, intrigued.

You smiled politely. “I’m Y/N. We used to train together," you said gesturing towards Chris.

He exhaled, still looking stunned.

After a few moments of catching up, he turned to Chris and the others. “We were just about to go eat. You should come.” Then, his gaze flicked to you. “You too.”

You hesitated. “Oh, I wouldn’t want to intrude—”

Chris nudged you. “Come on.”

You sighed, already knowing you’d lost. “Fine.”

His grin widened.

-----

The dinner was lively, filled with conversations that bounced between lighthearted jokes and deep discussions about the industry. You mostly listened, enjoying the energy of it all – until a music executive you showed your songs to when you were a trainee turned to you, his expression thoughtful.

"Are you still writing?"

You blinked, caught off guard. Across the table, Chris looked at you curiously.

You hesitated before answering. "A little. Just for myself."

He nodded, as if considering something. Then, casually, he said, "We’re always looking for new songwriters. If you have anything, send it in. No pressure, of course."

For a moment, the conversation around you blurred.

Chris' gaze flickered toward you, but he didn’t say anything. He knew – better than anyone – what this offer meant. What it stirred in you.

Your fingers curled around your glass. Once, an opportunity like this would’ve been everything to you. Once, you might have said yes without hesitation.

But now…

You liked your life. You liked music being yours – something you could love without the weight of deadlines, industry expectations, and the pressure to create for others. Your world was full of music already, but on your terms.

And you didn’t want to step back into an industry that had once drained the joy out of something you loved.

You exhaled, slowly. Then, with a small smile, you shook your head.

"I appreciate it," you said honestly. "But I’m happy where I am."

He studied you for a moment before nodding in understanding. "That’s good to hear."

Chris nudged your knee under the table, a quiet gesture, but when you met his eyes, there was nothing but pride there.

And just like that, the night moved on. No big moment, no regret.

masterlist

[wosospacegirl]

Better kisser - Head Coach Leah x Arsenal! r

Summary: Leah questions why the reader looks sad during training

Warnings: Just Leah being emotionally unavailable and kisses?!! :P

Word count: 2.3k

Masterlist here

..

Y/n had already come to terms with Leah’s personality.

Leah Williamson was distant, proud, confident and even patronizing. Although she was also caring, protective and affectionate when she wanted to. And that was the problem—when she wanted to.

Some would say Y/n was the typical soft girl, on and off the pitch. The young Arsenal player would try to avoid conflicts as much as she possibly could. She was easygoing and just chilled, the opposite of her Head Coach, which also happened to be Leah Williamson.

The two women had a tumultuous relationship, if anyone would call that a relationship. It had been 4 months since Y/n had signed with Arsenal as a new defender, and since then all Leah and Y/n did was argue and make up through quick snogging sessions in either Leah’s office or the locker room while the other team members were away.

Y/n had never experienced such a thrill before. She never had a forbidden relationship in her life before. The rush of excitement whenever Leah pushed her against the wall to nibble at her neck while the others weren’t around the same as entering a match during the most important game of the season. It felt good. The tingle that would rush through her body made it all worth it.

But sometimes, late at night, Y/n wished she could have someone to hold to—well, she wished she could hold Leah—and not anyone else. Y/n enjoyed tenderness and physical touch. She craved it, especially on nights like this one.

Y/n understood Leah would never come around to being in a relationship with her. The first time they kissed months ago, Leah told her she didn’t do relationships or anything that required emotional attachment. And that was why Y/n had to be happy that Leah even put up with her after and agreed to do a friends-with-benefits situation, even though they weren’t friends, and Leah was to a certain extent her boss.

Y/n rolled around in bed until sleep found her.

..

The next day at training, everybody could see there was something wrong with Y/n. Habitually, the young girl gave her all during the resistance and balance drills on the pitch. Her performance wasn’t being questioned, although the other players noticed that Y/n wasn’t her usual self. During the day, she kept to herself, not making any of her lighthearted jokes, not even with Alessia and Kyra, one of her closest friends.

Leah watched from afar, arms crossed, as Y/n did defensive drills with McCabe. The Irish woman was trying to get Y/n to smile more, trying to understand why she looked sad, but Y/n just brushed her off, saying she had woken up from the wrong side of the bed.

“Hey, Alessia, come here,” Leah called, moving her tactics board hurriedly.

Alessia came running, noticing the rushed tone in the Coach’s voice. “Hi, what’s wrong?”

“What happened to Y/n? She looks off,” Leah asked, pointing at Y/n with her head.  

Alessias followed Leah���s eyes. “I’m not sure, actually,” Alessia admitted. “I tried talking to her but all she said was she had a bad night of sleep, but I don’t think that’s the case.”

“Hmm,” Leah murmured, staring even more at Y/n.

The girl was training marking with one of the guys from the technical team. “She’s been like that for a few days now,” Alessia continued. “Last week I asked her if she wanted to go out with me and Kyra and she said she wasn’t in the mood. Then yesterday Kyra asked if she wanted to do karaoke, and she also said no”

“What do you think the reason might be?” Leah asked, frowning. She didn’t like the feeling in her chest, the way she felt just because Y/n was sad.

Alessia took a towards to Leah. “Can you keep this between us?” Alessia whispered, a guilty look on her face.

Leah looked at the blonde with concern. Why was Alessia asking to keep a secret, had something really happened with Y/n? Had she been injured and Leah hadn’t noticed? It had been a few days since Leah and Y/n had had one of their casual and secret meetings in Leah’s office, but Leah didn’t remember the girl complaining about anything. Well, they didn’t talk much, though.

“Yeah, what happened?” Leah asked, holding on to her tactics board

“I think she’s going through some personal problems, me and Kyra think she’s gota girlfriend, and things aren’t going well between them,” Alessia replied, her cheeks turning red. “But don’t tell her I told you, please! She hasn’t told me anything, it’s just a hunch. I mean, she always complains about how single she is…”

“Does she always complain about that?” Leah tilted her head. “I’ve never heard her say anything about it.”

Alessia laughed. “Of course not, you are the coach now. When you were a player, did you talk to Renée about your feelings? Of course, not.”

Leah shrugged. “You got a point, Russo, thank you. Now back to training.”

Before Alessia could leave, Leah said in a low voice. “Besides, you are the worst keeper of secrets I have ever met.”

“Oh, shut up Williamson,” Alessia laughed, and returned to training.

Girlfriend, Leah thought.

Y/n couldn’t have a girlfriend. What they had was extremely casual, but Y/n wasn’t the type of girl to cheat on someone. Maybe Y/n didn’t have a girlfriend, but was she seeing other people?

Leah clenched her fist at the thought of another woman holding Y/n, kissing her, hearing the sweet noises she made. Y/n wasn’t hers, but for some reason she felt very territorial.

Territorial? Leah wasn’t sure that was the right word to describe how she felt about Y/n.

Perhaps protective was a better word.

I mean, who even was this girl Y/n was seeing anyway? What if she just wanted Y/n for attention or money? Y/n wasn't rich per se, very few athletes her age, but she did have a big platform on her TikTok and Instagram. Maybe this girl wanted Y/n for her fame. Leah wouldn’t let that happen.

..

Y/n didn't hear Leah come into the dressing room at first, but Leah’s earthy perfume made her presence known. Before Y/n could turn around Leah had her hands on the girl’s hips and was kissing the back of her neck.

“You haven’t spoken to me today,” Leah whispered against the Y/n’s skin, hating how soft her voice sounded. “What happened, huh?”

Y/n felt a shiver run through her body. She turned to meet Leah’s blue eyes. “I did talk to you during the team meeting.” Y/n replied, pushing Leah slightly so she wasn’t pressed against the wall.

“Telling me you accidentally deflated one of our balls doesn’t count.” Leah rolled her eyes, as she watched Y/n strip off her training kit and stand in nothing her sports bra and gym  shorts.

Her eyes ran over Y/n’s body, wanting to touch every part of it.

“Well, guess we didn’t have much to talk about.” Y/n said, getting her bag from her locker and looking for a change of clothes.

Leah picked up on the cold tone immediately.

“We never have much to talk about, but we do it anyway,” Leah argued back as Y/n put on a pair of leggings and a clean t-shirt that said, “Live fast, eat trash”.

Y/n crossed her arms and tilted her head. “No, we don’t. We never talk Leah, we exchange a few words, you get mad about something I did in the pitch, you put on your whole dominant persona, then we have sex, and I go home,” Y/n touched Leah’s chest cynically. “That’s what we do.”

Leah pressed her lips together.

“You never had a problem with the way we did things. What happened now?” Leah asked, frustrated. This was not the way she wanted the conversation to go at all.

Y/n sighed before picking up her bag. “I’m really not in the mood for this, Leah.”

Leah held Y/n’s arms before she could leave the room, making sure the grip wasn’t too tight. In case Y/n really wanted to leave.

“Hey, don’t go, please,” Leah asked, Y/n’s skin warm against her palm. “I just noticed how you were off today, and I was hoping you could talk to me about it.”

Y/n didn’t meet Leah’s gaze, but she didn’t make a move to leave either.

“You’re right. We don’t really talk, and I know I can be grumpy with you.” The blonde continued, watching Y/n’s face, trying to figure out how the girl was feeling. “But I can talk, and I want to talk with you, if you ever need to.”

Leah was embarrassed to admit that this was the most vulnerable she had felt in months. I can talk!? Really, Leah? Who was she? A teenage boy interacting with a girl for the first time?

“I want to talk to you, not just kiss you,” Y/n admitted, looking down at the floor.

Leah was silent.

“Ok, we’ll talk then.” Leah agreed, fake confidence in her voice. “I love talking.”

“No, you don’t. Yesterday, you told Katie to shut up when she wished you good morning.”

“It was 6am.” Leah defended herself. “And I hadn’t had my coffee yet.”

“If you say so,” Y/n shrugged her shoulders.

The women remained silent. Leah released her grip on Y/n’s arm.

“I can start the talking thing,” Leah said, an adorable blush on her cheeks. It was as if she wasn’t used to doing things like this.

“Okay, then you talk while we walk to my car,” Y/n said, leaving no room for Leah to protest.

Leah took the bag from Y/n’s hand and slung it over her shoulder as they walked through the lonely corridors of Arsenal. “Hm—what’s your favorite colour?” Leah asked.

“Blue.”

“You can’t say blue, you’re an Arsenal player,” Leah argued, almost offended.

“Red then,” Y/n said, being her easy-going self.

“Cats or dogs?”

“Cats,” Y/n replied. “And let me guess, you like dogs,” the young girl raised an eyebrow.

“Correct.” Leah smiled.

When they got to Y/n’s car, Leah handed Y/n’s bag back. “That was a lot of talking! I’m proud of you,” Y/n said condescending, playfully patted Leah on the cheek.

Leah held Y/n’s hand. “Don’t get cheeky with me,” Leah warned mischievously.

Before Leah realized, Y/n’s lips were on her mouth, her tongue rolling gently into her mouth softly. “You’re a better kisser than a talker,” Y/n whispered. “But I appreciate the effort.”

Leah looked around to make sure no one was out there in the car park during the cold winter night. When Leah made sure they were alone, she pressed Y/n to the car door. “I wasn’t raised by animals; I can be social if I want to.”

“Well, I hope you want to be this sociable with me more often, then.” Y/n ended the kiss with a peck on Leah’s lips.

“I’ll try,” Leah said smugly. “Hey, there’s actually one more thing I want to talk to you about.”

“Oh really?” Y/n asked cheekily. “What is it?”

Courage, Leah. You can do it. It’s just another talk.

“Russo told me you were seeing someone,” Leah admitted, trying to sound cool. “I just wanted to make sure we—” she pointed at the two of them. “—Are alright, I mean I don’t mind sharing.” Big, big lie, Leah. “But if you’re with someone just let me know and we can end this, amicably, and all.”

Y/n was silent for a minute, then for two minutes, and then she burst out laughing.

“Russo told you what?”

“Okay, she didn’t tell me, I asked her, but only because you seemed off today.” Leah rolled her eyes. She didn’t like people laughing at her. “But it’s whatever, forget I ever said anything.”

Y/n grabbed Leah’s arm before the blonde could turn around. “No, come on, don’t get mad now.” The young player said. “I just laughed because I don’t know why Alessia thought I was seeing someone, I barely have time for my cat.”

“She also said you complained about being single,” Leah admitted, throwing out the whole keep it between us promise she had made to Alessia.

“Oh— “Y/n blushed, playing with her hands. “I mean, I guess we all want some kind of affection sometimes, don’t we?”

The women started at each other.

“Maybe,” Leah finally replied.  

Y/n sighed. “It was nice talking to you, Leah, see you tomorrow,” Y/n leaned into Leah, and have her a kiss on the cheek before getting inside her car and driving away, leaving Leah in the parking lot with a weird feeling inside of her.

Leah was left wondering: she wanted to do more than just have sex with Y/n, but she wasn't so sure that she could do relationships, or that she could give Y/n the affection that she wanted. Y/n was the kind of girl who expected Valentine's Day gifts and spontaneous trips. She would expect them to adopt a dog - or, well, a cat.

Leah wasn't sure she could. Leah wasn't stupid, she noticed how much Y/n liked her, and she liked Y/n back, but the fear of ruining Y/n's personal and professional life if anyone knew they were together was stronger than whatever Leah felt for the girl.

“I hate feelings,” Leah murmured to herself as she walked back to the Arsenal building, and into her office.

“I’m going get a lot of work done and forget about this whole situation,” Leah lied to herself. “Everything will be fine; she will stop liking me any day and everything will go back to normal.”  

The woman stayed in the office until the next morning, taking small naps in between tactics plans.

Leah awoke to a knock on her door. A very cheerful McCabe walked in.

“Hey mate, good morning,” McCabe said smiling.

“Oh my God, can’t you shut up for a second, Kaite?” Leah snapped, getting up from her chair and leaving the Irish alone in the room.

“What the fuck did I do now?” The brunette complained. “Fine, I’ll stop being polite to you.”

Please make sure to give feedback so I know what you guys think about this fic!

[furioussheepluminary]

𝐀𝐧𝐲𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐰𝐚𝐧𝐭

Pairing: nerd!jisung x popular!afab!reader, secret friends, highschool!au, nonidol!au

Synopsis: it was just a tutoring class. Just. God, but the way he wanted you to be his...every time he saw you with the popular guys. He would make you know how much he needed you.

Warnings: secret friends because of reader's reputation, Jisung wants to be more, needy!jisung (I love me some of that), jealousy, severely suggestive, swearing

A/n: y'all should leave me alone I can't write smut so live with this 😭

The stuffed library was quiet for a Thursday afternoon, save for the occasional rustling of paper and muffled coughs. You sat in front of Jisung at one of the far tables, pen tapping against your notebook as he explained some theory in economics. The cost of production, was it? You really couldn’t care less about it. His voice was soft, a little shaky, and you know it had nothing to do with economics.

It was you. It was always you. you could tell by the way he would stare in every class, darting his eyes elsewhere while chewing the back of his pen when you caught onto him. When you walked past him and his weird friends at the cafeteria, you were certain one of them was ogling. When you had asked him to tutor you for the semester, he was impulsively acceptive. He came early to the locations, poured his heart out in the subjects you struggled with and always helped you do your assignments. Cute right? Yeah, but like, he wasn’t that important to you. And he knew unfortunately.

You glanced up from your paper, eyes narrowing at the way he kept fidgeting as he spoke. His pen hovered above his notebook, sketching a graph on something you couldn’t remember. Jisung smelled like faint chocolate and cedarwood, his hair falling over his glasses as he furrowed his brows. He was cute, cute, sweet and nerdy in a way your friends would never understand. They also never understood why you even talked to Jisung. He looked up at you.

“Did you understand me?” Your eyes met. You blinked blankly at then smiled. “No, baby I think you have to explain it to me one more time. I just love the sound of your voice honestly.” He blushed and looked down.

“You need to stop doing that.” He looked at his notebook, pushing his glasses back into position.

You pouted. “Stop doing what?”

“Lying.”

You were confused. Jisung would normally blush and play along with your stupid flirting. In fact, he would take them seriously. “You okay, Sungie?” you asked acting less concerned about his reaction. “Aren’t you meant to be giggling and blushing and all that?”

His jaw clenched, and for a second, you thought he wouldn’t answer. But then he turned to you eyes flickering with something raw and desperate that it made you straighten your posture.

“No,” he muttered, voice rough. “I’m not okay.”

Your brow furrowed. “Why? You not feeling well or something?”

Its not that. Oh, hell no it wasn’t. He was alive and well. Well enough to see you today dressed in his hair color, clothing that obviously wasn’t allowed as uniform. Well enough to drown himself in his perfume for you. Well enough rehearse his greetings and awful jokes to you four times in the mirror. He was so well he had enough strength to literally jack off to the thought of how your skirt rode up when you sat with your girls during lunch. But he couldn’t tell you how much of a pervert he’d been for you. That’s disgusting. He wanted to be a good boy. Your good boy. You had told him that the relationship between the two of you— if it ws even fit to be called a relationship, was strictly professional and secret. None of your friends had to know he was tutoring you. Oh, and how he hated being your secret. He didn’t want to be your secret anymore. And that? That was the problem.

“Look, Jisung,” you sighed, leaning back in your chair. “I get that this whole tutor-friend thing is confusing for you, but let’s not make it weird, okay? You here to teach and I’m here to learn.”

His hand clenched around his pen, knuckles whitening. You could see the tension radiating off him, and for a second, you wondered if you'd crossed a line.

"Weird?" Jisung repeated, voice low and taut. "You're the one making it weird.” Your brows furrowed. "What’s that supposed to mean?"

He rolled his eyes and dropped the pen."It means I can't keep doing this." His voice cracked, frustration spilling into every syllable. "Sitting here, pretending I'm okay with being invisible to you outside this library—like I'm just your little nerdy helper while you go out there and let everyone else see the side of you I want.”

You want? Hold up, what?

"Jisung—”

"I like you," he cut you off, voice trembling. "I have for a long time, okay? But you don't care. You don’t even see me that way.”

"All I asked for was tutoring, Jisung. I didn't ask for this," you said coolly, folding your arms across your chest. "You're the one who keeps making it complicated.” His breath hitched, and for a second, you thought he'd back down. But then he leaned forward, voice low and rough with desperation.

Oh. Well you didn't expect him to be that blunt about it. But then again you weren't really surprised at his approach. You'd always known he had a thing for you. He always wore his heart on his sleeve. But you couldn't let it matter. C’mon you had a reputation to keep up. Imagine how the whole school would look at you if they found out you were dating Jisung.

"Yeah? Well, maybe I don’t care anymore."

The fire in his eyes made your stomach twist, a flicker of guilt gnawing at your insides. He looked different—less timid, more desperate. Like he was ready to snap.

“You don't care? You do realize my grades are on the line right? Don't push it, Jisung.” You spoke, your tone raising a bit.

A hint of regret flashed in his eyes. No no no. He's sorry, he does care. Really, he does.

But he has to prove his point now. He laughed bitterly, shaking his head. "God, do you even realize what you do to me? The way you talk, the way you dress, how you look at me with that stupid smile when you want something... It drives me insane." His voice cracked, and he squeezed his eyes shut for a second, like he was trying to pull himself together.

You opened your mouth to respond, but he wasn’t done.

"And then you hang out with them." His voice softened, breaking into a raw whisper. "Those fucked up jocks who knows nothing about you. Guys who get to be seen with you. They touch your arm, laugh with you, and look at you like they own you." He swallowed hard, lips trembling. "And I’m just... here. Invisible. The guy you only call when you need help with homework.”

He saw you with them? You never took those boys seriously you'd just hang out with them.

“Jisung, it’s not like that—”

Don’t lie to me," he cut you off, eyes shimmering. "I know what I am to you. A secret. Someone who doesn't matter. But God, I wish I didn’t care." His voice shook as he leaned closer, his need palpable. "I wish I could stop thinking about how your skirt rides up when you sit, or how your perfume stays on my hoodie after we sit here for hours.”

You felt your face heat, heart racing at the bluntness of his confession. He's been looking at your skirt?

"And I hate it," he added desperately. "I hate that I want you this much, even when you make me feel like I’m nothing." His breath hitched. "But I still want you.”

Oh, fuck. None of the dudes you dated were ever this blunt. Or this cautious. The vulnerability in his voice made your defenses waver. You’d always liked the power you held over him—the way he was yours to command in this little bubble. But now? Now, it felt like that power was slipping through your fingers.

"Jisung..." you began, unsure of what to say.

He exhaled shakily. "Just tell me what to do," he whispered, voice raw with need. "You want me to stop tutoring you? Fine I'll stop. You want me to leave you alone? Heck, you won't even see me anymore. You want me to embarrass myself in front of the whole school? I'll do whatever you want if it means I can have a piece of you. Please."

The desperation in his words hung between you, suffocating and electric. And for the first time, you weren’t sure if you could keep pretending this was just tutoring. Jisung has always been harmless— cute, eager to please, a bit to obvious with his feelings. But this? This was raw, desperate and far too real. And it made you uncomfortable.

He was good for you.

“Jisung you need to understand the kind of lives we have, are different.”

Lies. Fucking lies.

He looked like you’d punched him in the gut. "So that’s it?" he asked quietly, voice cracking. "You don’t care? Not even a little?”

You bit your lip an squeezed your eyes. Man, fuck your reputation.

Jisung's face was flushed, his chest rising and falling with uneven breaths. His eyes glistened, filled with frustration and need that tugged at something deep inside you. You hated it—hated how he made you feel like you were losing control. But more than that, you hated the way your body reacted to his vulnerability. The way your pulse thrummed at the thought of wiping that hurt expression off his face in a way that words couldn't.

"Come with me," you whispered suddenly, grabbing his wrist.

"W-What?" he stammered, but you didn’t give him a chance to protest. You pulled him up from his chair, weaving through the rows of bookshelves until you found a secluded corner hidden from prying eyes.

"Y/N— What are you doing?!"

You shoved him back against the bookshelf, your breath hot and heavy. His eyes widened, shock flickering across his face.

"Destroying my reputation. Is this what you wanted?" you whispered, your voice low and daring. "Is this what you've been craving, Jisung?"

He swallowed hard, his lips parting as if to respond, but no sound came out. His silence only fueled you further.

"Answer me," you demanded, your body pressing against his. "Y-Yeah," he choked out, his voice breaking. "God, yeah."

You didn't wait. Your lips crashed against his, fierce and unapologetic. His gasp melted into a needy whimper as he clung to you, his hands trembling as they gripped your waist. The sweet taste of him mixed with desperation, and it ignited something reckless inside you. His glasses tilted awkwardly, and you pulled back just long enough to yank them off, tossing them onto the nearby shelf. "Better," you murmured against his lips before kissing him again.

Jisung whimpered, the sound raw and needy as he tilted his head to deepen the kiss. His fingers dug into your hips, like he was afraid you'd pull away. But you weren't going anywhere—not right now.

"You drive me crazy," he whispered against your mouth, as you bit down on his lower lip. He shuddered, pressing harder against you. "I want you," he admitted breathlessly. "God, I want you so bad.” Your heart raced, his desperation feeding your own wild energy. His words melted any resolve you had left. You nipped at his lip, pulling a soft gasp from him, before you trailed kisses down his jawline.

“You really do like being my secret, huh?” You teased against his skin. “Only mine?”

He groaned, his voice thick with need “Yes. Please—just—” You chuckled breathlessly. “Yeah? Is this what you've been thinking about when your supposed to be tutoring me?”

His face flushed, but he didn't deny it. “Yes,” he admitted hoarsely. “Every damn time.”

The rawness in his voice ignited something in you. You silenced him with another kiss, not caring about the library, the rules, or what anyone would think if they saw you. Right now, there was only Jisung, entirety and desperately yours.

yay! Second one! I swear all your gonna get from me are heated moments and all. I can't write smut for the life of me 😭. Han's one of my wreckers so I see myself writing for him more.

Taglist:

@pixie-felix @pessimisticloather

If you'd like to be added you can drop your blog name in my asks!

~kc 💗

[tiki-was-here]

Ex boyfriend Black Leg Sanji x GN Baker Reader

Word Count: 1.2k Words

Reader and Snoj used to date for a while when he was at the Baratie,i know they move around alot but lets pretend that they stayed at reader’s town for a while cus business was really good.They broke up because although Sanji is a gentleman he was definitely not mature enough for an actual relationship. Also I didn't know how to end this don't shoot me

Valentines Event

Masterlist

The smell of vanilla and sugar filled the small bakery, the air warm and quiet .You were carefully piping an intricate lace pattern onto an elaborate cake .A towering thing, layered with deep red velvet and delicate, sugar-spun roses. Romantic, ridiculously so. It had taken hours, order placed at the last possible second, and the only reason you even agreed was because the person had offered more than enough money to make up for the trouble.

It was the kind of job that would normally require at least two days of work, but here you were, staying up way past closing hours because some snotty royal had placed a last-minute order under the name "Mr. Prince."

You hadn’t recognized the voice over the transponder snail so he must have been from out of town—it had been smooth, charming, and far too smug for your liking. The kind of voice that practically oozed privilege.

You hadn’t cared. Money was money, and business had been slower than usual.

-Still, the request had been absurd.

You yawned, rubbing the back of your flour-dusted hand against your forehead. It was almost midnight, and whoever this "Mr. Prince" was, they were taking their sweet time picking up the damn thing.but hey, if some rich bastard wanted to spend a fortune on a Valentine’s cake, who were you to complain?

Money is money, you reminded yourself.

The soft chime of the bakery’s front bell made you jolt. You hadn’t even heard footsteps outside. Straightening up, you wiped your hands on your apron and stepped out from behind the counter.

"Finally," you called out, irritation seeping into your voice. "I was starting to think you’d—"

You stopped mid-sentence, the words stuck in your throat.

There, standing in the doorway, was Sanji.

Your Sanji.

His blond hair was longer,shoulders broader, but it was his eyes that made something inside you clench tight.

The same piercing blue. The same warmth.

The same regret.

“…Hey, love.” His voice was soft, like he was afraid he’d scare you off. “Did you miss me?”

Oh, you were going to kill him.

"You? Are you serious? You are Mr. Prince?"

Sanji had the audacity to grin. "Guilty."

A flood of emotions surged through you.”You absolute bastard!" you snapped, stomping over to him and shoving a finger against his chest. "You really made me stay up all night for you?! Do you have any idea—"

His hand was suddenly on yours, wrapping around your wrist in a gentle, steady hold. "I know," he murmured, voice softer now. "And I’m sorry, truly. But if I gave you time to think about it, you might’ve said no to seeing me."

You opened your mouth to argue, but he wasn’t wrong. After all these years, you’d convinced yourself that if Sanji ever returned, you’d stay strong, keep your distance. You’d made peace with the past.

"You haven’t changed," you muttered, pulling your hand away.

Sanji chuckled, but there was something heavy in his eyes. "In some ways, maybe. But I have in the ways that matter. " There was something steadier in the way he held himself, something deeper in the way he watched you.

You exhaled sharply, running a hand through your hair. "Well anyways… what are you doing here?"

His expression softened. "I told you I’d come back for you. Didn’t I?"

Your heart lurched.

"That was years ago. You left, and I—" You took a step back, shaking your head. "I moved on. I had to."

"Did you?" he asked, voice low. "Because I never did."

Sanji took a step closer, slow, careful, as if you might bolt. "Every single day since I left, you were on my mind. When I fought, when I cooked, when I thought I was going to die—" He laughed, breathless, like he couldn’t believe it himself. "You have no idea how many times I almost turned back. How many times I imagined us standing here, just like this."

Your throat tightened. "Sanji…"

"—I know I don’t deserve to waltz back into your life expecting anything. But I had to try."

You stared at him, heart caught between anger and something dangerously close to longing.

"Sanji," you said carefully, "I told you before—"

"I remember." His gaze darkened slightly. "You told me you’d give me another chance when I was ready. When I could prove to you that I wasn’t just some flirt who couldn’t take us seriously."

You swallowed hard. You had said that. But after so many years, after seeing him on wanted posters, hearing whispers of his deeds across the Grand Line, you’d thought he’d long forgotten about you.

"And you think you’re ready now?" you asked quietly.

"I know I am," he said firmly. "I won’t lie to you, love. I still want all your attention on me. That much hasn’t changed. But everything else? I’ve grown. I’ve seen the world. And I’ve planned for this—for us."

For a long moment, neither of you spoke. The air between you was thick, every unspoken word, every lingering feeling pressing in from all sides.

Finally, you whispered, "I was always scared."

"Scared that I’d love you too much. That you’d leave, and I’d be stuck waiting." Your voice cracked. "And you did."

His fingers brushed against your cheek, featherlight. "I know. And I’m so fucking sorry love."

You closed your eyes, leaning into his touch before you could stop yourself. You hated how easily you melted under his warmth, how his presence felt like home after all these years.

"I want to believe you," you admitted. "But I don’t know if I can."

Sanji exhaled slowly, thumb tracing the curve of your cheek. "Then let me prove it to you. One step at a time.I’ll keep you safe. I swear it on my life," he said, voice fierce with conviction. "I won’t lose you again."

The words sent something warm and aching through you. Because the truth was, you had followed his journey. You’d worry every time you’d heard news of a battle, your heart sinking at every bounty increase, wondering if this would be the time he wouldn’t make it.

You had never stopped caring.

And fuck, looking at him now—stronger, older, still painfully beautiful—you knew you had never stopped loving him.

Your fingers curled into the fabric of his coat. "You really had this all planned out, huh?"

He grinned, but there was a flicker of nervousness behind it. "Only for the past few years."

You let out a soft, incredulous laugh, shaking your head. "Damn."

Then, before you could second-guess it, you tugged him down and kissed him.

Sanji froze for half a second before melting into you with a low, satisfied groan. His arms wrapped around your waist, pulling you flush against him, and for a moment, it was like no time had passed at all.

The warmth, the taste of him, the way he kissed you like you were the most precious thing in the world—it was all still the same.

You laughed softly, still breathless from the kiss. Maybe, just maybe, everything had worked out exactly as it was meant to.

And then—

"OI, SANJI! WHERE’S MY CAKE?!"

[bitchinbarzal]

Misunderstood | B Faber

summary: you guys haven’t made it official and it comes back to bite brock when he is pictured out at dinner with a friend.

-

The cold Minnesota air nipped at your skin as you wrapped yourself tighter in your blanket, sitting on your couch with a cup of coffee in hand. The warmth of your apartment contrasted the harsh chill outside, the streets dusted in fresh snow. The quiet morning should have been comforting, but instead, you found yourself scrolling aimlessly through Instagram, the flickering glow of your phone screen somehow amplifying the restlessness gnawing at your mind.

Then, you saw it.

Your thumb froze on the screen as you stared at the image before you. Brock. Your boyfriend—or at least, that’s what you thought he was.

He stood at a table, smiling like he always did, the one you adored and couldn’t get enough of. But this time, it wasn’t just his grin that caught your attention. Standing next to him was a woman—blonde, beautiful, and clearly too comfortable with him. She had her hand resting on his arm, a look of fondness that made your stomach twist. The caption read: “Dinner date with my favorite guy.”

The words blurred in your vision as you stared at the picture, trying to make sense of it. You blinked, trying to calm the rising panic inside you. Your fingers swiped quickly to refresh the feed, hoping this was some kind of mistake, some social media glitch. But no, there were more photos—more pictures of Brock and this girl, the two of them enjoying dinners, laughing at something only they seemed to understand, posing close in a way you hadn’t even been able to get Brock to do with you.

And suddenly, all the confidence you had in the relationship seemed to disappear. Why hadn’t he told you about her? You scrolled through the rest of the posts, each one more intimate than the last. It hit you in waves—the jealousy, the confusion, the bitter taste of betrayal. You had always kept things casual with Brock, no pressure, no expectations. But these pictures… They didn’t look casual. Did he think you were just another option?

A pang of hurt ran through you. Had you been nothing more than a placeholder while he figured out what he really wanted?

You set your phone down, hands shaking slightly. You tried to calm yourself. It could be nothing, right? But then the doubts crept in, taking over your thoughts like an uncontrollable storm. Maybe this wasn’t a casual thing for him after all. Maybe he was just too scared to tell you. You were only ever a backup plan, an afterthought. That’s how it felt. You had no idea where you stood in his life, and that was the worst feeling of all.

The next few days were nothing short of torturous.

You couldn’t bring yourself to respond to his texts. He’d sent a few asking how you were, if you were okay, but each time you read his messages, all you could feel was the knot of jealousy and confusion tightening in your chest. You told yourself it wasn’t a big deal, that you had no right to be angry. You had never set any official boundaries, and he had never made any promises to you.

But it didn’t stop the gnawing feeling inside.

When he called you on the second night of the silence, you debated not answering. But you couldn’t bring yourself to let it ring out. “Hello?” you said, your voice more clipped than you intended.

“Hey, it’s me. You’ve been quiet. Is everything okay?” Brock’s voice came through the phone, sounding concerned but also confused.

You squeezed your eyes shut, the tears you’d been holding back threatening to spill. “Yeah, everything’s fine.” You could feel your chest tightening as the words felt like lies in your mouth.

“Are you sure? You’ve been distant. I just want to know if something’s wrong.”

The frustration hit you suddenly, and it slipped out before you could stop it. “What, you want me to just pretend everything’s fine? Pretend like I don’t see all those photos of you and her?” The words were out before you could catch them, and the silence that followed was deafening.

“Wait, what?” Brock’s voice cracked slightly “What are you talking about?”

“Don’t act like you don’t know,” you spat. “I’ve seen it, Brock. All the pictures. All the dates. Why didn’t you tell me about her?” Your voice trembled now, the anger laced with hurt.

There was a long pause, and you could almost hear him processing what you were saying. Then, a sigh. “Listen, I didn’t think it was a big deal. She’s just a friend. She’s one of my teammate’s sisters. We’ve hung out a few times with the team, but there’s nothing going on. I swear.”

But the doubt lingered in your mind. “You didn’t think it was a big deal? You didn’t think it was a big deal to mention that you were hanging out with another girl? That’s what you’re telling me?” You could feel your heartbeat pounding in your ears now. The more he explained, the more it sounded like an excuse. And the more it hurt.

“I didn’t think it would bother you” Brock added quietly. “I thought we were just…having fun, you know? I didn’t think it would cause any issues.”

“Well, it’s causing issues now,” you snapped, cutting the conversation short. “I don’t know what you want me to say, Brock. I just need space.”

And with that, you hung up, not giving him the chance to say anything more. The silence after you ended the call was suffocating. You hated that you had let your emotions spiral like this, but the damage felt done. Your heart was heavy with bitterness, and no amount of reasoning could make it feel right again.

Days passed, and the tension only grew. Brock tried to reach out—texts, calls—but you ignored them all. You felt justified in your anger, but the truth was, the silence was killing you both. Each time you saw his name pop up on your phone, your heart wavered, but you couldn’t bring yourself to open the messages. You had decided that if he cared, he’d come to you. He’d fix this.

But it didn’t happen. Not the way you expected, at least.

Instead, you found yourself standing in your apartment on the fourth day, staring at the door as if it might be a dream.

The sound of soft knocks broke through your thoughts. You slowly opened the door, almost dreading what you might find on the other side. But when you looked up, it was Brock—holding a bouquet of wildflowers, his face a mix of anxiety and determination.

You stared at him for a moment before the anger bubbled up again. “What are you doing here?” you asked, trying to hide the pain in your voice.

“Can we talk?” His voice was quiet, almost pleading. “I know I messed up. I should’ve told you about her, but I never meant for any of this to happen. I care about you. I don’t want this to end because of a misunderstanding.”

Your breath hitched, emotions swirling inside you like a tornado. “You should’ve told me” you whispered, the hurt creeping into your voice. “I saw those pictures, Brock. I felt like you were hiding something from me. And I—” You broke off, looking away, your face flushing with embarrassment.

“I didn’t want to hurt you,” Brock said, stepping closer, his voice full of regret “I never wanted to make you feel like you weren’t important to me. She’s just a friend—nothing more. You mean everything to me.”

You shook your head, trying to hold back the tears. “I shouldn’t have ignored you. I should’ve trusted you, but I didn’t know where I stood.”

Brock reached out for you, taking your hands gently in his. “I should’ve explained sooner. I’m sorry. I don’t want you to feel second to anyone, especially not because of some misunderstanding.”

His apology, the sincerity in his eyes, hit you harder than you expected. Your walls started to crumble, and with them, the weight that had been pressing on your chest.

“I’m sorry, too,” you said softly, your voice barely above a whisper. “I just… I didn’t know how to deal with it.”

Brock’s smile was hesitant but warm. He pulled you into an embrace, holding you tight. “Let’s promise no more misunderstandings, okay? I want this,us,to be real.”

You nodded, feeling the tension dissolve. “No more misunderstandings,” you repeated.

[nexiva]

You made me hate you

Part 4

Bucky x reader

Warnings: ok now they really hate each other, really angsty part and a lot of swearing (again)

Summary: A not so nice morning in the kitchen with Sam and Bucky

A/N: I couldn’t wait any longer haha so enjoy this part :)

Masterlist

Five months. Five months of avoiding each other like the plague. And when we do run into each other? Jesus Christ, even Captain America himself would bolt from the room.

Barnes has gotten a little more… how do I put it? Confident. In the wrong way. About three months ago, he was still trying to talk to me, still trying to convince me—just like everyone else. But I wouldn’t give in. I would never forgive him. Maybe after all this time, it seems childish, but I didn’t care. I stood firmly on my ground.

And once everyone realized I wasn’t going to change my mind, that’s when things started heating up. Barnes was starting to get so cocky. The worse my remarks got, the more he started snapping back at me. I could see I was driving him insane—not that it was my intention. I just didn’t want to see him. But since he was already there, I couldn’t stop myself from throwing sharp comments his way. Until, finally, he had enough and started fighting back.

“Fuck, Sam, I swear I tried everything. But she wouldn’t even let me get a word in. I’m so done with this. Guess some amends just can’t be made.”

I walked into the kitchen with every intention of ignoring Barnes and making myself a great breakfast.
“Morning, Wilson.”
“Hey, Y/L/N.”

I could tell Sam was uncomfortable, but that didn’t stop him from asking a stupid question.
“So, Bucky and I were about to go for a run. Do you wanna join us?”

Oh God. Pathetic.

Barnes practically choked on his coffee, barely stopping himself from suffocating (what a shame that would be).

“If I were you, I wouldn’t let him outside. He might ‘accidentally’ run over someone and then claim he was forced to do it.”

Oh, I knew that one was going to hurt. But it rolled off my tongue so sweetly that I couldn’t stop myself.

Barnes threw his cup against the wall. Sam flinched slightly.

“You are a cunt, you know that?”

Bucky stepped closer like he was about to throw hands. I got up immediately.

“What? You gonna kill me too now? Finally finish collecting the whole family, asshole?”

And he just stared.

Nothingness in his eyes.

I wanted it to hurt. I wanted him to feel exactly the way I did. But strangely, there was no satisfaction in seeing him suffer. It wasn’t as enjoyable as I had imagined. So much time had passed, my rage had only grown, and yet… I couldn’t put a name to that stupid feeling inside me. Oh no, it definitely wasn’t sympathy or guilt—it was just exhausting.

For the first time, I saw something in his eyes. Fear?

I didn’t care to figure it out. Not at that moment.

“Fuck you,” was all he said before leaving the kitchen.

I sat down with a small smirk but also with a hint of uncertainty (hopefully, it didn’t show).

“Um, so that went well?”

Sam, not knowing what else to do, sat down with me.

“Y/N, aren’t you tired of this?”

The bastard could actually read my mind sometimes.

“Despite everything, you two have a lot in common. He was under HYDRA, you had NEXUS. You really should—”

I couldn’t listen to him any longer.

“Despite everything? You mean the fact that he killed my sister? And HYDRA? NEXUS? We have nothing in common. I never killed anyone for someone else. No one ever controlled me like some brainless puppet!”

“Because Fury saved you! You little brat! You think you wouldn’t have done the same as him if Nick hadn’t stepped in?”

Silence.

A long, awkward silence.

I had no idea how to respond. And I sure as hell wasn’t about to admit he was right—even if he was.

“I wonder if you’d say the same thing about him if Fury hadn’t shown up back then. You need to get it together, Y/N, because everyone is tired of your shit.”

Sam stood up, looked at me, and walked out.

I couldn’t admit he was right. I couldn’t get rid of the fog in my head. That horrible memory.

I refused to back down.

The kitchen felt emptier than before.

Sam’s words hung in the air like a goddamn storm cloud, suffocating me, pressing against my chest. "Everyone is tired of your shit."

I clenched my fists. Fuck him. Fuck them all. They didn’t get it. They weren’t the ones who had to wake up every morning and remember that someone ripped their soul apart like it was nothing. They weren’t the ones who had to stand in the same room as the murderer and pretend like he was just another member of the goddamn team.

I grabbed a piece of toast and took a slow bite, staring at the shattered ceramic from Bucky’s cup still lying on the floor. Someone else could clean it up. I wasn’t going to.

The compound was quiet now, except for the faint hum of the fridge and the distant sound of traffic outside. I let myself breathe. But my hands were still shaking.

Then I heard it—the door slamming shut.

I exhaled through my nose, already knowing who it was.

“What the fuck do you want now, Barnes?”

Silence.

I turned my head slightly, and there he was, standing in the doorway, arms crossed, jaw tight. He looked like he hadn’t cooled down one bit since storming out of here a few minutes ago.

“I’m not done talking.”

I let out a dry laugh. “That’s funny, I could’ve sworn you told Sam you were done trying.”

His nostrils flared. Good. I wanted him angry. I wanted him to feel something.

He took a step forward. “You don’t know what the fuck you’re talking about, Y/N.”

I shot him a look. “Oh, I don’t? Enlighten me. Please.”

His eyes darkened. “You think you’re the only one who lost someone? You think you’re the only one who wakes up every day hating the person in the mirror?”

That caught me off guard. For a second. But I didn’t let it show.

“The difference between us, Winter Soldier?” I stood up, stepping closer until there were just inches between us. “I lost my family. You were the one pulling the goddamn trigger.”

He swallowed hard. I saw his fingers twitch—just slightly. Like he wanted to punch a hole in the wall. Or grab something. Maybe grab me.

But he didn’t.

Instead, he let out a bitter chuckle and looked down.

“You think I don’t know that?” His voice was lower now. Tighter. “Every goddamn day, I think about the people I killed. I hear them screaming in my fucking head. And you?” He shook his head, his tongue pressing against the inside of his cheek. “You don’t even want revenge anymore. You just want something to be angry at.”

I stiffened.

He saw it. He fucking saw it, and I hated him for it.

“Go to hell, Barnes.”

His lips curled into a humorless smirk. “Already been there, sweetheart.”

And with that, he turned on his heel and left, leaving me standing there, fists clenched, pulse racing, and for the first time in a long time—completely speechless.

[realhotgirlshitah]

Baking up Trouble (Preview)

Brother’s best friend Luigi x fem reader

This is a preview because I’m too lazy to write a summary LMAO. (Yes this will be smut. Probably the smuttiest smut I’ve ever written so stay tuned idk).

Also lmk if you wanna be added to the taglist for when I actually finish and post 🧍🏾‍♀️🫶🏾

It was rare for you to have the house to yourself.

Whether it was your mom bustling around the kitchen, your dad bellowing on the phone with some poor soul on the other end, or your older brother Caleb shouting over his headset at his friends while playing whatever dumbass game he was obsessed with that week, your home was never quiet.

So, when you finally got the chance to experience true, undisturbed silence, you weren’t about to let it go to waste.

Your parents were out of town on some business trip, dragging Caleb along under the guise of “preparing him for the family empire” or whatever grand plan they had for him. You had to admit you were grateful he was their golden child and not you because the idea of taking over the family business bored you to death. You respected it, sure, but you knew from a young age that it wasn’t for you. So when they extended the invitation—well, demand—to come along, you’d firmly declined, claiming you needed the downtime.

And oh, what a glorious decision that had been.

The house was finally quiet. Peaceful. Blissful. No one was yelling. No one was stomping around. It was just you, your favorite playlist blasting through the speakers, and a baking project you hadn’t been able to tackle since midterms swallowed your life.

You’d opted for comfort, slipping into your comfiest pajama set—a tiny pair of soft cotton shorts (the ones your best friend had gifted you as a joke, with the words “Best Ass on Instagram” emblazoned across the back) and a matching cami. You figured no one would see you, so what did it matter? With Megan Thee Stallion’s music fueling your every move, you danced around the kitchen as you whisked, measured, and kneaded your way into what you were sure would be the best cookies and cakes you’d ever made.

Life was good.

Until it wasn’t.

“CALEBBBBBB! DUDE, WHERE ARE YOU?”

The loud, grating voice shattered the peaceful bubble you’d created, making you jump so violently that the whisk you were holding clattered onto the counter. You froze, your heart sinking as recognition dawned.

There was only one person on Earth capable of being that loud and that irritating at the same time.

Luigi. Fucking. Mangione.

You groaned, your fingers gripping the edge of the counter as you prepared yourself for the chaos about to descend. Luigi had been Caleb’s best friend since they were kids, practically living at your house during summer breaks and any weekend they didn’t have plans elsewhere. He was obnoxious, smug, and always seemed to derive way too much joy from making your life difficult.

Before you could even think of hiding, he sauntered into the kitchen like he owned the place, his trademark smirk plastered across his face. He looked the same as always—big brown puppy-dog eyes that didn’t match his sharp tongue, short brown curls that were in DESPERATE need of some hair oils and curl cream, and, of course, that fuckass shirt.

“The Bali shirt… again?” you glared, gesturing at the faded blue tee he wore. “What is this, Day 527 of you refusing to buy new clothes?”

His grin widened, unbothered as ever. “What can I say? It’s comfortable.”

“Your family owns like half the town, Luigi. Maybe splurge on a shirt that doesn’t look like it’s been run over by a truck.”

“Why would I? This one drives you crazy. Can’t put a price on that.”

You rolled your eyes so hard it was a wonder they didn’t fall out of your head. “What are you even doing here?”

“I could ask you the same thing, Shortcake.”

You bristled at the nickname he’d been calling you since you were kids. You hated it then, and you hated it now, mostly because it only made you feel shorter.

“Don’t call me that,” you snapped.

“What, you don’t like my nickname for you?” he teased, leaning casually against the counter like he didn’t notice (or care) that you were glaring daggers at him.

“No. I don’t, it’s inaccurate, i’m above average height,” you deadpanned.

“Well, too bad. It’s cute. You’re cute. Deal with it.”

You let out a sharp exhale, trying to ignore the way his words made your stomach do something infuriatingly close to flipping.

“Luigi,” you started, crossing your arms, “Why. Are. You. Here?”

He blinked innocently. “Looking for Caleb.”

“Well, Caleb isn’t here, genius. He’s in D.C. with my parents.”

Luigi frowned, his expression briefly falling into confusion before that damn smirk returned. “Huh. Guess I missed the memo, I really thought he’d be here,”

“Well, he’s not,” you said, your tone sharp. “So you can leave.”

He didn’t move. Instead, his gaze flicked over you, taking in your outfit with a slow, deliberate once-over that made your skin heat.

“Cute shorts,” he said, his voice dipping just enough to send an annoying tingle down your spine.

Your face burned. “Excuse me?”

“They’re… festive,” he continued, clearly amused. “What’s it say? ‘Best Ass on—’”

“Don’t.”

“Instagram?” he finished anyway, grinning as your glare deepened. “Fitting.”

“Get out.”

“Why? I’m complimenting you.”

“Luigi.”

“Yes, Shortcake?”

“Get. Out.”

He sighed dramatically, but instead of leaving, he pulled out a chair at the kitchen island and plopped himself down. “Nah, I think I’ll stick around. You look like you could use the company.”

Your jaw dropped. “Are you serious right now?”

“Very.”

“Caleb isn’t here. You have no reason to be here.”

“You’re here,” he said simply, propping his chin in his hand as he stared at you.

You scowled. “That’s not a reason.”

“It is for me.”

You groaned, turning back to your dough in an attempt to ignore him. “You’re insufferable.”

“And you’re adorable when you’re mad,” he shot back without missing a beat.

Your hands stilled, the words catching you off guard. You hated how smooth he could be, how effortlessly he could make you flustered with just a few words. And worse, he knew it.

“Don’t you have anything better to do?” you asked, not bothering to look at him.

“Not really.”

“Go find something. Or someone. Literally anyone but me.”

“Why would I do that when I’ve got the best view in town right here?”

You froze, your stomach flipping as the weight of his gaze settled on you. Slowly, you turned to face him, narrowing your eyes.

“You’re disgusting.”

“And you’re a terrible liar,” he countered, leaning back in his chair with that infuriating grin still firmly in place.

“Why are you like this?” you muttered, more to yourself than to him.

“Like what? Charming? Handsome? Irresistible?”

“Annoying. Obnoxious. Full of yourself.”

He chuckled, the sound low and warm. “Admit it, Shortcake. You’d miss me if I wasn’t around.”

You scoffed. “In what universe?”

“This one,” he said easily, his eyes locked onto yours.

The tension in the air thickened, the playful banter giving way to something heavier, more charged. For a moment, you couldn’t bring yourself to look away. His gaze was intense, almost searching, and it made your chest tighten in a way you didn’t want to examine too closely.

Finally, you broke the silence, turning back to your dough with a sharp exhale. “You’re delusional.”

“Maybe,” he said, his voice softer now. “But I’m not wrong.”

You didn’t respond, focusing instead on kneading the dough with more force than necessary. The sound of the music filled the space between you, but it did little to drown out the weight of his presence.

[purplepeptobismol]

Doctor Kenneth McCormick & The Beautiful Concept of ‘Love To The Point of Invention’

Okay! So I could not stop thinking about the dynamic between Dr. McCormick and Victor Chaos, and more importantly— chapter 13 of my fic… I’m sorry y’all. It’s just,,, there was so much discussed in this chapter and I just wanted to talk about it MORE. I wanted to voice everything out, even revealing some behind the scenes stuff, implications, deleted paragraphs, investigative research, and my thought process throughout the chapter. It was a long one; it could’ve been longer, but I genuinely forced myself to stop. Anyway, feel free to read my very own ‘directors cut’! Just letting you know ahead of time that it WILL be containing spoilers for Chapter 13 of ‘I Will Make of You’ and my one-shot (Un)Forbidden Love.

The backstory starts off as newly graduated Kenny and Butters, with Butters asking him to run away together. The reason for his hesitation is explored on (Un)Forbidden Love, but actually a big scene I cut out [and was going to be featured in this chapter] was —

The one where Kevin gifts his truck to Kenny and Butters. I was planning on hinting that Butters had explained his plan to Kevin beforehand, and had asked for his help into getting a truck of his own. Kevin, being literally the coolest person ever, basically told him that they can take his truck, and he will be gifting it to them. Butters and Kevin go back and forth about it, Butters being “no, I can’t possibly take yours! That’s unfair and selfish”, until Kevin hits him with the “I’m not doing it for you, it’s for him. We both want Kenny to be happy.” Obviously, Kenny doesn’t know this conversation happened 🥹, but caring older brother Kevin tugs at my heartstrings. I also wanted to add a tidbit where Kevin is helping them pack their things in the truck, he whispers to Leo to “make him happy and give Ken the life he deserves.” KILL ME NOW, I LOVE THEM SO MUCH!

—

Moving on past their new established relationship, we get the first hints of Vic’s negotiating skills. It is already established in the canon universe of the Post Covid South Park specials that Kenny is a very talented scientist who’s done all these amazing things— but we also find out that Butters (Vic Chaos) is the one that actually funds all of Dr. McCormick’s projects! I tried to mess around with this concept in my own story, but the one thing I always wondered was: What made Kenny want to become a scientist in the first place?

Love to the Point of Invention

I think there is something so pure, and so genuinely beautiful about loving someone so much, you’re capable of inventing something revolutionary BECAUSE of them. There are many examples of this actually happening in real life:

Kenny seeing Butters come home— fatigued and stressed from all the workload— it motivated him into creating something to help Butters feel better. And it not just worked, but someone actually bought Kenny’s invention. Of course, if it wasn’t for Butters [Chaos’s] negotiating tactics, they wouldn’t have secured the millions of dollars that helped them get into an Ivy League Uni.

Personally, I feel like Kenny truly is talented when it comes to being an inventor, but both in canon and in IWMOY, his main motivators where always the people he loves. Butters is also canonically good at running a business, and his Vic Chaos persona proves that he’s capable of getting some good money off of investors. Scientist Kenny who invents all these crazy things and Vic Chaos who invests, sells, markets, funds his inventions— It’s literally a match made in heaven y’all 😞, they’re a power duo!

—

There are a lot of other things I want to get into but I’m going to skip ahead a bit to talk about the main event of this chapter: Cooper’s creation! I’ve always headcanon that Stan and Kyle are more family oriented and the more likely to have kids first, while Kenny isn’t as caring about the concept. So when Kenny witnessed their joy and Butters cuddling up with a baby, it sort of planted him with an image of a family in his head. What really sold the idea was that conversation he had with Butters. Kenny wasn’t aware that Butters was having daydreams of starting a family with him until that very night 🥲, it once again motivated him into creating something that will make Butters’ daydream a reality. LOVE! CREATION!!

Now, the concept of bringing a human to life in the ‘non-traditional’ sense is actually very complex AND controversial 💀. I was aware that there were some negative views towards the study of human cells and artificial wombs, but I didn’t know just how bad it’s perceived… Bro, even IVF and surrogacy are still somewhat frowned upon. I’m the type of person that even if it’s not mentioned or come up in my essays, I still do extensive research so I can get a general idea of what I’m writing about. For Cooper’s ‘birth,’ there were three main things that needed to be focused:

The study of cells and how to make gametes of two people of the same sex to successfully produce a zygote (fertilized cell/embryo)

Artificial Wombs, how they work, and how will they function for a developing human fetus

The weekly development of a baby and what they will need inside a womb to grow/develop healthy

All of these things have their own concerns that required different forms of investigation, and it brought up a lot of moral dilemmas that I REALLY (and I mean really) overthought during the entirety of my research and writing process.

One

In real life, the use of animals for scientific purposes is controversial because, let’s be real— no one wants animals to be abused for humanity’s own desire to learn. Hell, I wouldn’t want that either! Yet, in my fic, Kenny does use lab mice and monkeys and it’s actually an integral component for this experiment. Personally, I do believe there is an ethical way we could use mice and monkeys for research; and that’s if the experiment doesn’t cause deadly risks and physical or psychological harm to the animals. You can let me know your thoughts! I feel like Kenny would actually be less empathetic about it than Stan, which is why I made him call Kenny out on it. Lol. Getting that out of the way, how would Kenny use those animals to reach his goal?

Lab mice are actually used to this day, and they’re a valuable species for the study of human biology, pathology, etc.. Mice have 20 chromosomes in their haploid genome, their gestation period takes on average 19-21 days, their genetic complexity is pretty low; there’s also low ethical concerns due to their rapid reproduction, small size, and short lifespan. Scientist already have a general understanding of their genetics so it makes the testing more straightforward. Kenny will definitely find more early success and failures during this section since the breakthrough can be proof that conception is possible with two species of the same sex.

I stated this in chapter 13, but the next animal they tested on was the Rhesus Macaque; they’re the primates most genetically and physiologically similar to humans. A single rhesus macaque contain 21 pairs of chromosomes, gestation period is roughly 166 days, and their maternal health has a big influence to a baby’s development much like a human. Kenny testing with these animals will help bridge the gap, enhance the technology, and address any issues that happen throughout the process. But since they’re pretty similar to humans, especially with their reproductive biology, it raises more ethical questions than with the lab mice. The failed attempts of gestation, fetal development, and the long-term health would be very hard to ignore. This step would take significantly more time and patience, lots of care will need to be taken place before ANYTHING becomes feasible. So once everything is overcome, then we could possibly move to humans.

The ultimate and final goal would be testing this technology with humans. Human genomes are extremely complex, they have 23 pairs of chromosomes (which is 46 in each cell), gestation is roughly 9 months, human embryos require precise conditions, and their long-term health need to be carefully monitored years after their birth. The testing of this would definitely be frowned upon by society. Realistically, we would need highly advanced technological breakthroughs to make this happen— it is very likely Kenny would’ve gruesomely fail this step many times. But I didn’t want to make him suffer the losses of his potential children :(, that’s too cruel. Besides, Cooper is a strong kid, and Kenny used his cursed blood to create him!

Overall, it truly isn’t scientifically possible for two species of the same sex to procreate because their biological mechanisms lack the components for fertilization (yet👀). They’ll probably need to reprogram or edit genes and cells to transform at least one male gamete into an egg-like cell. (I’ve sort of drawn inspiration from stuff like CRISPR-Cas9). Then, similar to that of IVF, mimic the fertilization of both of the cells, continue editing the genes to make them compatible, remove any harmful mutations that might occur, and ensure the embryo has the necessities for proper development. What I’m trying to get at is that either Kenny or Butter’s gametes had to be transformed into an egg so that Cooper could exist [and also Tweek and Craig for Emilio if you think about it] 🫢. Y’all can decide on whose cell it was.

Two

Artificial wombs are an actual thing being developed and tested— mice embryos have been used on clear rotating vials and they’ve actually attempted to use an artificial womb for a premature lamb who needed help with their lungs! When I first thought of using the concept of an artificial wombs back when I was drafting this story, the first images that came to my mind were something like the scenes from ‘I Am Mother.’

This technology was my main inspiration for Cooper’s creation because— really guys— how else would Kenny and Butters have a biological kid of their own if not with the use of advanced technology 😭??? Before I reached this scene, even as far back when I revealed the explanation back in chapters 2 and 8, I didn’t think much about this; truly, I wasn’t even thinking of making it a big deal. But then it was time for me to finish drafting chapter 13, and I decided to make more research on the concept, this video by Cleo Abram appeared on my recommended!

It completely changed my perspective on the concept and even made me want to tread with the idea more carefully. I really recommend watching it if you’re interested on what I’m going to be talking about. I didn’t realize how controversial or even the complexity of it. So, not only did I do research, but I also did a deep dive on motherhood and pregnancy 🤓….

Let me start with the negative conversations: The main issue people have with it is that this technology breaks the ‘idea of childbirth’ and the ‘beauty of pregnancy.’ Many mothers believe that it’s an amazing thing to grow a human inside of them, and they feel some type of bond between their child as they grow. It’s a sacred thing and ‘part of being a woman’, and they don’t want technology to take that away from them. *Though the concept of artificial wombs being an actual thing is purely fictional and theoretical, I’d like to point out that alternatives such as surrogacy and IVF are real options and even those are controversial till this day*

The positive side: some mothers believe that this technology could be a great alternative since child birth can be very dangerous to certain women whose biology doesn’t allow them to carry, or can’t conceive at all. Others simply don’t want to experience the labor. Pregnancy in general could be a very difficult thing for both the mother and a baby, this alternative could help alleviate those concerns.

In my heart of hearts, I couldn’t make Kenny be the one to invent this because honestly, he just wouldn’t understand; Heidi Turner was the best decision in my opinion. I always wanted to make her be a part of Kenny’s scientist team, and this experiment felt like the right opportunity. I don’t feel qualified to put my two cents on the topic, so I’m gonna end this segment by quoting what one of my friends said.

“For starters, I don’t want to have kids of my own, nor do I plan on ever becoming pregnant due to my own personal circumstances. But if I were to have a choice, I would like this to be one of my options. I have heard both the horrors and positives of what pregnancy does to a woman and it makes me not want to be pregnant even more. In the end, idk what the process would look like, let alone the aftermath of both my and the babies health. Of course not everyone would agree, and maybe there would be pushback for this sort of advancement, but I feel like we should focus on the idea of giving women more alternatives to choose what they could do with their own bodies instead of being self righteous about what’s natural or not.”

Three

Y’all 💀 a baby developing in a womb is really no easy task. We don’t know what happens inside a uterus when a baby is inside, it’s not like we can peek inside a womb, so we mostly just go by the current research of the weekly gestational period. But I tried my best to sum up how the process would be like. A fetus in an artificial womb would have to be in an environment that replicates the uterus. Nutrients and oxygen need to be exchanged, facilitate waste, hormonal changes that happen during pregnancy need to be mimicked, temperature and pH need to be regulated, amniotic fluid is important for allowing a fetus to move— well, pregnancy is complicated. Not to mention how foreign and disconnecting it could be for a baby to develop outside of their mother’s womb, that connection could be crucial too, no machine can mimic that warmth and feeling, and I made sure Heidi be the one to point that out.

Literally a single wrong move could be the end. It’s a very high level risk… This is a gamble with human life. Everything could go so wrong in many ways if they aren’t careful. Nothing about this could be considered natural.

No matter how you view it, what Kenny is doing is selfish. He is messing with natural order of life to have a son of his own with his husband. He knows this more than anyone else. That’s why when Craig also wanted to try to have a son of his own using this method, Kenny felt displeased. Craig CANNOT be having a spur-of-the moment baby fever, this isn’t something to FOMO about— this is a human they are attempting to create. Conscious human life. If they die in the middle of gestation, or they suffer long-term— it is entirely on their selfish fault. I wanted to add a scene where Kenny straight up tells Craig “NO” and that he wasn’t ready for it. It would lead to a big thing where even Tweek gets involved and explains his side and wheewww would it have turned out way longer.

Though this entire experiment was kinda Kenny’s sort of selfish desire of creating a family— it’s that LOVE he has for Leo that pushes him to invent this (love, invention…. *sighs*), and it was love for his son that pushed to save him in the end. It really is romantic and beautiful to deeply love someone 🙁..

This is such a heavy and interesting concept that I feel could bring on a lot of conversation to the table, I want this to be an open discussion so feel free to comment your thoughts and opinions. I also want to iterate that I AM NOT A SCIENTIST NOR AM I AN EXPERT IN ANY OF THESE CONCEPTS OR TOPICS THAT I’VE DISCUSSED. IM JUST SOME SILLY AND STUPID GUY WHO WRITES SOUTH PARK FANFICTION ☠️

—

Small little things I like to add from this chapter:

Craig living in Houston because he worked for NASA is so funny to me. Idk much about how they work over there but I do know that those roads and highways are no joke. Bro was fighting for his life in those 14 lane roads 😭. They always have construction and accidents too, shit is stressing me just thinking about it </3

Stan and Kyle being family oriented feels so right to me, and Stan getting cold feet because he doesn’t want to end up like Randy 💔 my shaylaaa. Idk what’s it like to be a parent so I hope Stan’s dialogue felt realistic 🙁. I didn’t want to include too much of how they adopted Robin, but I also wanted to give a bit of a recapped explanation that was somewhat realistic. Cartman’s death and the adoption happening around the same time would obviously stress them even more so I feel like anxiety is normal in the situation. It worked out in the end tho hehe 🫶, and it was thanks to this scene that motivated Kenny into starting his family.

Butters saying Cooper was “cooped up in there” and didn’t “want him to feel lonely” down there ☹️

I also wanted to add a bit of background Tweek being an engineer and more of Doctor Heidi Turner, but,,,,,,, chapter too long. We did decent amount of Heidi content tho, but no Tweek. He will appear in chapter 14 y’all 🙏Trust.

—

Anywho— I feel like I went overboard with this deep dive but if you have any input with the topics discussed or the dynamics between Kenny and Butters as Doctor McCormick and Vic Chaos, or literally anything else, please feel free to share 🥹