#because i also would love to sleep 24/7

[zeivira]

What reaching your 20s feels like:

[shapelytimber]

Pj party for the gang <3

[BG3 PRINTS] - [COMMISSIONS]

(Please don't spoil me act 3, I've still not got around to play it-)

Everytime I go to camp to clock in for the night, and a good 4 out of 6 of these fuckers go to sleep wearing *leather* outfits- I understand it from a 'this is a video game of course they don't change clothes to go sleeping' perspective..... But on the other hand I slept once in leather pants and that was one of the worst experiences of my life, so to think these people do it voluntarily everynight- freaks. All of them.

So I gave them pyjamas :D that was a lot of fun ! Also I like when characters have a more diverse builds and sizes, so I killed two birds w one stone and drew what the gang looks like in my heart <3 and of course I made a quick little line up !

A lot of yapping about the pj choices and process below vvv

Gale : fancy depressed wizard gets a fancy bathrobe type get up ! I don't think this man was getting dressed a lot in that sad year post his breakup, so why not invest in a comfy cool pj he can slip on in the morning feeling like it kinda counts as dressing up ! And I get that they didn't exactly pack before getting kidnapped by aliens, but Gale is a wizard I'm sure he can just reach into a pocket dimension where he stores some of his belongings (ala my tes mage !) or something

Astarion : I don't think astarion owns many clothes. He isn't wealthy, and well.... Let's not talk about Cazador in the fun pyjama party post- so his ruffled shirt untucked from a pair of looser cotton or silk pants it is ! Also I learned that elves are typically shorter on average in dnd and that's great, that's perfect, that's so funny, I can just picture him insisting this is true (which it is).... And then enters Halsin fjdjdk anyway

Halsin : I just know in my heart that man sleep in his bear form. It's when he's most comfortable, and he doesn't need to talk to other people when sleeping so why not. Also comfy bed mate :) ! Other option is completely nude (yes I forgot to include him in the lineup, sue me but I'm too tired to re open photoshop rn-)

Shadowheart : this is my art, and if I want the resident goth girly to be in a cute little nightgown I can >:( she gets lace and everything let me be a lesbian !!! Also she small and sturdy

Wyll : a slight variation of his canon camp clothes :) made his top less skintight, and once again changed the texture from leather to something less terrible to sleep in seriously why are all these people committed to this lifestyle-

Lae'zel : no pjs, a githyanki must be ready for battle 24/7 only the weak wear comfy clothes and don't commit to sleeping in leather pants and leather underwear. She's a freak and I love her dearly

Karlach : she deserves the best pyjamas of them all : topless in underwear. Nothing comfier than that and it's not like she'll get cold :) also she wears it very well what can I say fjdjdkd

I started working on the lineart like a month ago alongside a commission that I really didn't like working on- so anytime I got work done for the commission (btw not from someone online so it's none of you tumblrinas), I would reward myself with adding more shit to the bg3 drawing djdjdkk which resulted in a lot of details and clutter, that I didn't want to start coloring because that would be a nightmare to figure out and very long to do, so I would continue adding shit instead of starting colors- and the circle kept turning. Also 10 hands..... So this took a while to get right fjdjdk

But on the bright side, it's the most detailed illustrations I've done yet and I'm really proud of it (especially all the little story elements I could include <3)

[vitiateoriginator]

I've been going thru a major creative block recently and I'm really depressed over it

[heestoleurgirl]

sim jaeyun 𝜗𝜚⋆₊˚

₍ᐢ. .ᐢ₎ in which riki broke up with you, leaving you devastated and depressed. that is, until you get drunk on a night out, and somehow find yourself in his best friend's bed.

genre: angst, smut (pwp) pairing: ex's best friend!jake x fem!reader warnings: smut, MDNI!! wc: 5k

A/N: why am i writing jake smut, im not even jake biased

masterlist 𖤐.ᐟ

21 days. 21 days since your boyfriend, riki, broke up with you. everyone said it would get easier to deal with over time, and you knew they were right, but you still felt like shit every hour of every single day.

anywhere you looked, you'd just get reminded of him and have flashes of unwanted memories in your mind. it felt like absolute torture. yes, this had been your first serious relationship and you loved him so much, of course you were upset (to say the least).

the worst part was that you still saw him every now and then on campus, which only made your heart ache more. especially when he happened to be around his girl friends. you knew it was just irrational jealousy but that didn't stop you from getting nauseous at the sight.

જ⁀➴ more under the cut!

one thing was for certain: you couldn't keep going like this, you were extremely exhausted from feeling so miserable 24/7. crying all the time was getting old, and rotting in bed forever didn't seem like a good long term solution. so, you had a totally mature and genius idea that would definitely not make things worse in any way. there was a house party being hosted by someone you knew, it would be the perfect place to get drunk and forget about your ex. even if it's just for one night.

your friends had already been nagging you to go, knowing your current state and how you barely left your house unless it was absolutely necessary. they were worried for you and missed your radiant aura. minhee was convinced she'd find you a hot guy that would help you move on. yeah, you knew that wouldn't work as simple as that, it wasn't easy to simply forget someone you loved with your whole heart and dated for quite a while. but at least you could give it a try, right?

♡

fast forward to friday, you sat on the carpet in front of the body length mirror in your room, attempting to do your makeup. truth be told, it's been a while since you made yourself look so glamorous, which made it all the more difficult to get ready. every fibre of your being was screaming at you to just stay home and cry yourself to sleep while watching rom coms. but you pushed through, forcing yourself to stay on track with your plans and also not let down your friends who were there for you.

the faint sound of a honk broke you out of your thoughts, causing you to grab your belongings and waddle down the stairs in a dress that was shorter than you were comfortable with. your friend karina had gotten it for you a while ago, and you felt bad for never wearing it since then.

"looking good y/nnie!" minhee smirked and jokingly whistled as you managed to navigate yourself in to the passenger seat of her car.

all you could do was roll your eyes and playfully nudge her shoulder. "shut up"

she wiggled her brows in response before shifting gears and taking off to pick the other girls up too. you'd be lying if you said you weren't nervous about tonight, and feeling some form of regret. you could only pray and hope that riki wouldn't be there, or you'd definitely drown yourself in the pool without a second thought.

following your excited and chatty friends up the stairs felt strangely like walking towards your impending doom. you stuck close to minhee, who unsurprisingly immediately made her way to the drinks. not like you minded, because there was no way you were surviving this night without any alcohol.

the unknown mix of drinks burned your throat as you swallowed it, not really bothering to be sensible. before you knew it, you were on the dance floor with your friends, laughing and singing along to the songs blasting from the speakers. even if it was due to the alcohol, finally having a smile on your face was really refreshing. karina seemed to notice, who flashed you a grin and tugged you closer as the two of you were dancing like there was no tomorrow.

as the night went on, you gradually lost yourself to the alcohol that was now buzzing in your veins. you didn't feel like yourself at all, but in the best way possible. anyone would be able to tell that you were completely out of it by now.

you had no idea where your friends had disappeared off to, and somehow you found yourself not caring. while you were busy pushing past people with no particular destination in mind, you accidentally bumped into someone.

"woopsies, silly me!" you giggled drunkenly, looking up to see who it was. your heart did a backflip when you managed to recognize the face staring back at you.

"no worries darling." you knew that aussie accent way too well. standing right in front of you was jake, riki's best friend. honestly you were just relieved that it wasn't riki himself.

"oh, hi jake." you stumbled a bit and grabbed onto his arm for support. he merely looked down at you in amusement, finding the blush on your cheek quite cute. his eyebrow shot up subtly, eyeing the revealing dress that was definitely out of chatacter for you. despite that, you looked undeniably gorgeous like always.

jake's hand moved to your waist casually, acting as a stabilizer so you wouldn't fall over. normally, you would've felt awkward in a situation like this, but now you weren't even phased.

"you look like you've had one too many drinks, hm?" he leaned closer to speak, so you'd hear him over the loud music. your hands instinctively tightened around his arm.

"i-i'm fine..." you mumbled stubbornly, even though it was obvious you were close to collapsing right there on the spot.

"are you here alone? where are your friends?" if you were sober, you definitely wouldn't have missed the slight concern laced with his voice.

"uhmm... i dunno!" you grinned sheepishly at him, still pressed against his arm. "i think they ditched me"

you had no idea when or how you lost them, so his guess was as good as yours. "i was just about to leave anyway. can't leave a pretty thing like you drunk and alone"

before you knew it, jake was dragging you out of the party along with him. you weren't exactly sure what was going on, but even in your state you knew that you trusted him. after all, he was your ex's best friend, you'd known him for a while.

♡

jake guided you into his bedroom, sitting you down on his bed and looking down at you, as if contemplating something. now that you were actually here, in his apartment, he wasn't sure if this was the right decision. but what else could he do, leave you at the party when you were completely shitfaced? absolutely not.

he kneeled down in front of you and carefully took one of your legs in his hand, removing your heel with the upmost precision. the other one was discarded too, letting your feet feel relieved from being squished together all night.

you were quiet now, past your drunken giggling and just zoning out, having no clue where you were. he almost laughed at the sight. he'd never seen you so vulnerable and adorable.

"stay here, i'll bring you some water" he stood up and disappeared into the bathroom for a few minutes. true to his words, he returned with the water in one hand, and a pill in the other.

you watched with glossy eyes as he sat down next to you and gently guided the glass to your lips. you obeyed, feeling refreshed by the cold liquid. he gave you the pill next, urging you to swallow it. "this will make your headache more bearable tomorrow"

a quiet hum left your lips as you followed his instructions, then set the glass aside on his nightstand. your movements were still uncoordinated and messy, making him chuckle.

"you tired, pretty?" jake examined your droopy eyes, you looked so cute he had to hold himself back from smothering you in affection.

the first time jake saw you, he had felt starstruck. if he could go back in time, he definitely wouldn't have fumbled you so bad. he was a coward, he waited too long and suddenly you were dating his best friend. despite all his attempts to get rid of his attraction towards you, nothing seemed to work in his favour. you were quite literally the only girl he couldn't have, and ironically enough also the only one he wanted. but of course, he was respectful of your relationship with riki and was good at hiding his feelings towards you, he'd never let his jealousy be the reason he fell out with his best friend.

so here you were, sitting in his bed, drunk off your ass and it wouldn't take a genius to figure out why you'd drink so much. he wasn't sure how riki would react if he knew the situation he was in right now. he chose to push that thought aside and focus on you.

when you didn't answer his question, he spoke again, "you can sleep in my clothes, yeah?"

you nodded and stood up, letting him help you make your way to the bathroom. As he was closing the door, he added one more thing. "if you need any help, just shout for me."

it was quite difficult to get your dress off, but you managed somehow. all your limbs felt weak and heavy, and you were still disoriented, though you were able to change without falling over or breaking anything. jake's shirt swallowed your small frame comfortably, and you smiled faintly at the smell of his cologne lingering on the fabric. your mind was a jumbled mess of feelings as you returned, seeing him scrolling his phone, also in a more comfortable set of clothes.

he looked up and smirked at you, his eyes shamelessly travelling down your body as he took in the sight of you. to him, you'd never looked hotter. the combination of your messy hair and his shirt stopping by your mid-thighs was enough to make his head spin. he had to remind himself that you were drunk, and no matter how badly he wanted you he couldn't take advantage of you in this state.

seeing him pat a spot on the bed, you didn't need much convincing to climb under the covers and rest your head on a pillow. once again, you were welcomed with his scent, causing you to feel strangely comforted.

jake stood up and gave you one last look, making sure you were laid on your side so you wouldn't accidentally hurt yourself by choking on your tongue.

"where are you going?" you asked tiredly, opening your eyes to see him by the door of his bedroom.

"i'm sleeping on the couch." he raised a brow, surprised to see you sit up in the bed after just getting comfortable. your next words made him wonder if he was hallucinating.

"come back, i don't want to be alone"

your quiet, pleading voice was simply impossible to resist. how could he say no, when you were looking at him with literal puppy eyes? he sighed, and following a moment of hesitation he climbed into bed next to you. it's not like he didn't want to sleep next to you, god he would give anything to experience this. but he wasn't sure how long he could control himself when you were in his bed, looking like an angel.

for a few minutes, the room was filled with heavy silence as the two of you simply stared at each other. you admired his face, the dim lighting only adding to the tension slowly filling the air. you'd never really noticed just how pretty he was before. his round, brown eyes seemed so welcoming.

"jake..." you almost whispered his name, with nothing specific in mind. you just wanted to end the silence between you, it felt too tense.

"hm?" his eyes never left yours, studying your face as if you were the most interesting thing in the world. the longer you looked at him, the more your heart seemed to race.

"i... i don't know"

"what's wrong?" jake studied your glossy eyes, wondering why you were suddenly acting so emotional. his heart clenched at the sight of you nearly crying. he longed to pull you close and kiss you until you were smiling again.

"i don't know, i just..." you struggled to find words to express how you felt, especially with the alcohol still lingering in your system. there was so much you wanted to say, but you knew better than to break down in his bed when he'd been kind enough to bring you home with him safely. "...i don't wanna be alone. i hate the silence, i hate feeling everything and nothing at the same time i-"

suddenly you felt his finger wiping a stray tear from your cheek, one you haven't even noticed falling. there it was, that familiar heavy feeling in your heart. the one you were so sick of feeling, all you wanted was for it to go away.

you didn't really think before scooting over and hugging jake's larger frame. your face was buried in his neck, a good way to hide your tears as well as your embarrassment. his warmth felt intoxicating and you clutched his shirt like you were afraid he'd disappear.

jake didn't hesitate to welcome your hug and return it, he was more than happy to be your shoulder to cry on. seeing you in such a state made him realize just how emotionally drained you'd been since the breakup happened, he silently cursed riki for not taking care of you properly.

you felt like this was the first time someone had properly hugged you in weeks, which didn't help the overflowing emotions you were already experiencing. you clinged to him as if he was your lifeline, your only hope. there was no way you could explain the way his entire presence and embrace was more comforting than anything you'd felt in a while.

maybe you were delusional, but being in his arms like this made you feel all the more attracted to him. letting your guard down was something you rarely ever did, even with your most trusted friends. yet here you were, silently crying in jake's bed and confessing how lonely you felt as of late. it felt so intimate to be vulnerable around him.

"it's okay, you're not alone. i'm here, yeah?" he murmured against your hair, rubbing your back gently in an attempt to calm you down. if he wasn't paying attention, he would've missed the subtle nod of your head.

"i'm sorry. please don't leave." you whispered, sliding your hands under his shirt to feel the bare skin of his back that was practically radiating heat.

your touch caught him off guard and he almost hissed at the contact, his arms tightened around your waist. "i'm not going anywhere darling, and you have nothing to be sorry for. you've been through a lot and you just need some love"

yeah, you did need love. you felt guilty, a part of you still yearned for it to be riki who gave you the love you wanted so badly. but he was gone now, no matter how much you cried over it the past won't change. the more rational part of your brain was constantly urging you to move on and accept the fact that riki doesn't love you anymore. you swore the mixed emotions were going to drive you insane, if they haven't already.

but right now, even if it wasn't what you wanted, jake was what you needed. if only you knew the true extent of how much he cared for you.

jake's hands paused against your back when he felt the soft press of your lips against his neck. it surprised him so much that he couldn't help but wonder if he was imagining things. but no, he felt it yet again. "fuck, angel... don't do that" he struggled to speak properly.

"why not?" you pulled away a bit to examine his face, searching for signs of any discomfort, or maybe disgust. you just wanted to shower him in affection to show him how grateful you felt to be here with him right now. to be able to sleep in his bed and cry in his arms to your heart's extent.

he wasn't sure how to explain the reason he didn't want you to kiss him right now, and you were completely oblivious to his internal struggle.

"you're still tipsy, and emotional..." jake brushed a strand of hair away from your cheek, "i'm not going to take advantage of your state." he was being so sweet to you, it was almost annoying. yes, you were still not entirely sober but you couldn't deny the overwhelming urge to be... close to him.

so instead of replying, you leaned closer and pecked his cheek, causing jake to groan aloud. how could he possibly restrain himself when the girl he was whipped for was acting like this? he cupped your jaw with one hand and pulled your face closer, placing his lips onto yours with one swift motion.

your eyes fluttered shut and you kissed back as if you had done this a million times before. it felt so natural, and you were becoming lightheaded from how perfectly your lips felt against each other. previously you'd been worried that kissing someone would feel wrong, and you thought you'd imagine you were kissing riki instead, but right now there wasn't a single thought about him in your mind. all you could focus on was how good it was.

jake felt like he was losing his mind more every second he continued to kiss you. he didn't care how needy he might be coming off, cause fuck he'd wanted to this for months. never in a million years did he anticipate it would actually happen, in this context no less.

the kiss grew more heated as you moved your hands from his back to feel up his defined abs, relishing how supple and warm his skin was. at the same time, jake had a hand cupping your cheek, while the other one slid down to your waist, dipping under the shirt you were wearing. the feeling of your bare skin under his fingertips was absolutely euphoric. safe to say, neither of you were thinking about how right or wrong this might be at the moment. all your thoughts were out the window and you were entirely immersed in his company.

he didn't hesitate for a second when he realized you were tugging at the hem of his shirt, silently demanding its removal. the t-shirt was tossed aside, landing somewhere on the floor of his bedroom. your eyes widened as you were met with the sight of his bare upper body, you had to hold yourself back from practically drooling at the view. jake noticed your lustful gaze and couldn't help but smirk to himself. he pulled you closer and kissed you briefly before whispering in your ear lowly, "your turn."

he didn't leave you time to respond, tugging your shirt over your head. the action made you blush a bit, but you lifted your arms to help him remove the item of clothing. faint goosebumps littered your skin due to the sudden loss of heat, mixed with the tension in the air.

your hands landed on his chest, you took a moment to look into his eyes before inching closer and placing your lips on his for the nth time. the passion was halted for a moment, leaving room for the kiss to be more timid and soft. it didn't last for long though, soon enough it turned needy once again.

jake sat up without warning and pulled you into his lap snugly by your waist. your legs landed on either side of his thighs as you made yourself comfortable and wrapped your arms around his neck. his half lidded eyes and lazy grin made your heart skip a beat. for a second you felt stunned, an overwhelming sense of need filled you. he didn't miss the way your gaze travelled down his bare body once again, it sent a strange kind of satisfaction through him.

his lips found their way down from your jaw to your neck, peppering it with soft kisses. a quiet groan left his throat as you thread your fingers through his dark brown hair. the playful kisses turned into gentle nips and bites, jake couldn't resist leaving a few pretty marks along your porcelain skin.

your hushed gasp was a contrast to the mostly quiet atmosphere as his hands had somehow ended up squeezing your backside. the action caused you to arch your back instinctively, making you grind against him.

"fuck." he whispered, gently guiding your hips in his lap. the slight friction was intoxicating.

"jake..." his name left your mouth in a quiet whisper as you leaned your forehead on his shoulder, letting your urges get the best of you.

"i know, baby" his hands slid lower to caress your inner thighs tenderly. he tried not to moan as his hips pushed upward involuntary, amplifying the friction between you, while his boxers were becoming increasingly tight as his arousal strained against the fabric.

your lips found his once more, you were getting more desperate by the second and your mind was consumed purely with need for him. the material of his sweatpants felt soft under your fingers as you tugged subtly.

jake's breath hitched and his resolve crumbled almost immediately. he was a gone man, there was no going back now. breaking the kiss and muttering a quiet curse, he shoved his sweats and boxers down his hips in one swift motion. the rest was kicked off carelessly, leaving him completely bare under you. his hard length stood heavy against his stomach, flushed and leaking.

the sight made you want to faint on the spot, you had been so caught up chasing your lust and now it all felt real. you were still hovering on your knees, having lifted your hips to let him remove his remaining clothes.

but jake didn't plan on waiting around while you admired his erection, in a quick motion he flipped you over, pushing you against the pillows as he hovered above you. the view he had right now was almost enough to make him cum on the spot: you laid beneath him, sprawled out with messy hair and slightly swollen lips. not to mention some red marks he's left on your neck earlier (they definitely weren't the last either).

"you're so gorgeous, it's unfair."

before you knew it, he was kissing your shoulder, distracting you from the way his hand slid under your lacy panties. the gasp that left your lips was enough to let him know that you were surprised to feel his finger trail along your folds. god you were so wet he groaned out loud, opting to suck on your neck to keep himself quiet.

your arms darted to wrap around his neck once more as you felt him slide a finger into you. a broken moan left your lips, you bucked your hips into his hand, wanting to feel more of him.

"fuck, pretty, you're soaked" he murmured, his voice somewhat strained as he held himself back from shoving himself in fully and fucking you until you passed out.

"jake-" you couldn't speak properly even if you tried, especially not when another finger was pushed into you with ease. it was completely out of your control how your walls clenched around his diligently working fingers. "please..."

he could tell you were growing impatient and he knew exactly what you were asking for. as much as he longed to tease you and make you squirm under him as much as possible, his own arousal was consuming him whole.

after a few more pumps of his fingers, he pulled them out, earning a quiet whimper from you. he couldn't hold back a smirk, there was nothing that turned him on more than seeing you all desperate and needy for him, like you'd die if he didn't fill you up immediately. jake was pretty sure he'd never been as hard as he was right now in his entire life.

your panties were practically ripped off, not that you minded because that was the least of your concerns at the moment. you were completely focused on how jake grabbed your thighs and nudged them apart to position himself at your entrance.

he rubbed his tip against your aching clit, coating himself in your wetness and teasing you at the same time. "is this what you need doll? want me to fill you up?" he asked, his voice was low and laced with desire even with the obvious rhetorical question. he nudged inside, not giving you the full length yet as he moved his hands all over your body.

"yes! please jake, i need you" you whined shamelessly in response, tugging him closer with your hands on his back. there was no room for embarrassment, especially when you knew how much he was getting off from your begging.

he grunted in satisfaction at your response, pushing inside slowly until his hips pressed against yours. your gummy walls were tight and inviting, sucking him in with no effort. if jake thought he was close to losing it completely earlier, he was not ready for this moment. his entire body was tingling, senses heightened yet his brain completely gone, unable to form coherent thoughts.

"so good for me, i knew you could take it" he soothed your faint whimpers with a kiss on your forehead.

your eyes were glossy from the immense pleasure you felt with him just being buried to the hilt. the stretch was perfect, he filled you up perfectly without causing any pain.

after a moment of panting and moans, jake started to rock his hips, thrusting into you slowly. he wasn't sure how long he'd last with you being so perfect for him in every way.

"holy fuck..." he closed his eyes for a moment, desperate to keep himself together in favour of your pleasure and comfort. your soft moans and gasps didn't help his case one bit.

you couldn't stay quiet even if you tried, he was bringing you so much euphoria you swore you would explode. your legs instinctively wrapped around his waist as he sped up his movements, pushing as deep as possible. "fuck, jake..."

"so vocal for me" he hummed against your ear, his breath tickling your skin and giving you goosebumps yet again, only heightening the growing pleasure. as he continued to thrust into you, his hand left your waist to grap one or your hands and hold it down against the mattress, fingers intertwining naturally.

a sudden pain shot through his body in result of your nails digging into the skin of his back, altering between scratching and holding on. but the feeling only turned him on more, urging him to pound into you even faster.

"you're doing so well angel, shit" jake knew he wouldn't last much longer, so he was very relieved to feel you squirm and clench around his dick.

"it's so much..." you muttered between moans, your senses were flooded and overwhelmed by now. you swore you could see stars every time you felt his tip push against your cervix, his movements were painfully precise. "i'm close, jake"

you calling his name out so sweetly was music to his ears. he kissed your cheek and spoke in a strained voice yet again, "me too, you gonna come for me princess? hm?"

it was a miracle that you even lasted this long, your adamant nods were only seconds prior to you clamping down on him hard. a mix of a moan and grunt was heard from jake as he let go of your hand to wrap his arms around your waist instead.

with a few more sloppy thrusts, his climax was just behind yours. his hair was tugged and you squeezed your legs tightly as his hips jerked. you were filled up by ropes of his thick seed, making your eyes roll back from the pleasure completely and moan his name like a prayer.

both your bodies were moulded against each other, only disrupted occasionally with your light squirms. jake stroked your hair gently, holding onto you like he was afraid you would disappear. after a few peaceful moments, he carefully pulled out and grabbed a clean tissue to help you clean up.

once you were both under the cover again, he didn't waste any time to pull you against his chest. "i'm here, i won't leave." he whispered sweet reassurances to you, caressing any part of you he could reach. you practically melted into his arms completely, his presence was beyond comforting for your exhausted self.

you muttered against his warm skin quietly, "thank you"

"for what?" he smiled sweetly, even though you couldn't see his face. here you were, thanking him when you had been the one to give him the best experience he could ever ask for.

"taking care of me."

"i would never neglect my baby."

his words were enough to paint a soft smile onto your tired face. it didn't take long for you to drift into a peaceful sleep, especially when you were cuddled up to him so snugly. jake's heart swelled at how cute you looked in his arms. he couldn't ask for more, all he'd wanted was to take care of you and he finally got the chance, he wasn't going to hesitate or be a coward with you ever again.

a/n: so. i just wanted to try out writing smut but this is gonna be my first and last time because WTFF IS THIS LMAO

i'm sticking to smaus i can't write for the life of me

songs for this fic:

tags:@vivimura@s1rawb3rry@who-tf-soddhi@laurradoesloveu@p1hbrook@hoonielvv@nodoubtily@enhamonsterghoul@heebambilee@en-chantedtomeetyou@hsbae@jellyluv4eva@vivissection@beigerin@jwywife@elairah@heekilrvs@jayjw16enxp@lakoya@ijustreallylike2read@annovaz@strawberrynull@abbyeey@celestiai0@enhalxvr@llearlert@raizennloll@rizzmura@sabriochee@sol3chu@fluveriiez@kitty-won07@sucrosxi@kukkurookkoo@mimisxs@darquette@hhyvsstuff@lovelydeliciousfestival@luciathcv@bigwforjay@pshfan0812@lov4hoon@jaerisdiction@kireiinahana@abzyissupersleepy@madslove-enhypen@b3tt7boop@dodot04lover@ki2rins@sugarikiz ( ◡̀_◡́)ᕤ

[mrsarnold]

ambessa x reader who has a toddler OR

vi x pregnant!reader

be my be my baby !. ۫ ꣑ৎ .

syn : pregannt hcs with arcane girls!

pair : arcane girls x fem!reader

warn : none! pure fluff, idk what else

note : i couldn't choose one so why not all, thank @heart4caitlin for helping me bless u king

when jinx finds out she was excited. you told her through a carving when she was teaching you how to make stuff with wood. jinx is the type of person to make mostly everything for the baby. she's also extremely protective btw, like goes crazy when she cant find you because she doesnt want you or the baby hurt, and also because shes scared you left her.

i also feel like jinx would be like REALLY overwhelmed with knowing her s/o is pregnant especially if its after silco died. jinx would try to make baby bombs for the baby but they were a huge no once you found out

i can vision her talking and painting the baby bump too. plans on teaching her child everything that she knows with building and refuses reader to buy the baby clothes and essentials bc jinx wants to make everything. she also refuses reader to but the baby clothes and essentials bc jinx wants to make everything

also she would be incharge decorating the babies room and has her signature everywhere and little monkies.

when vi finds out i feel how the way you would tell vi is the normal way and just showing her the test i fear.. vi definitely falls asleep with her hand on your bump aswell as telling the baby bump stories about her childhood adventures while reader is sleeping. adding onto that vi would ban allowing reader to let the baby have anything similar to her childhood adventures because she doesn't want the poor baby growing up in consent danger.

vi naming the baby the most outrageous names, 'oo we should name them cookie', 'how about brownie', 'chicken wing?', 'NO VI', 'what why :((('. shes the type to fist bump readers belly and she claims the baby kicks her as to fist bump her back. you would want vi to wrap the bow trend on her belly ( iykyk the trend ) and vi would brag about it.

vi making jinx build everything bc vi is to 'busy' buying everything online meanwhile she still freaking out ab being a good mother or not :((. she would aswell beg cait for some help. she would also want to do everything for you, making food (which she sucks at), massaging her feet.

when cait finds out i feel you would do one of those aesthetic boxes thingys and give it to cait and cait is over the moon. cait definitely plans EVERYTHING out. researching for the best doctors around, scheduling every appointment, baby proofing the house, making sure she has everything for the delivery cait would definitely keep the pregnancy on the down low until the baby is born especially from her mom but it was to late when the baby was borm ( iykyk )

caitlyn buying the most expensive and useful stuff for the baby after you convinced her not to. cait also reads first time parenting books just in case and tells you new facts everyday! buying reader expensive but comfy maternal clothes so reader feels better about this situation

OH and speaking of her mom, telling the bump about stories of her mom before she sleeps

when sevika finds out i feel she would find out on date night. she tried to order you wine then you admitted it right there and then. first things first we can agree.. shes so protective oh my gosh, the second anyone looks at you shes killing them. she also fixes everything around the house for you and the baby. she also loves loves feeling the baby kick but hates seeing you in pain so tells the baby to stop.

she also tells silco about the baby and makes him the god father before he dies. speaking of silco ! she tells the baby stories of silco after he dies. also tells the baby stories of jinx's shaninagans 24/7. once again makinv jinx build everything for the baby while she goes around and tell all of zaun if she sees one of them even look at reader wrong she'll kill them i fear

when ambessa finds out i feel you would be nervous to tell her because ambessa is always busy so ambessa finds out by herself. she also gets the most perfect cooks for you and the baby. she's very nervous to tell Mel at first but tells her eventually when its blantly obvious. shes also gets the best designers to design the baby's room.

she also talks to the bump about kino all the time lets be real

[bucketsorbueckers]

Trouble - 6

Age gap Azzi x Paige

WC: 7K

Warnings: language

a/n: a double post bc im trapped inside with rain and you all are so loud about your love for this story it makes me want to write 24/7 <3

Caroline: azzi r u awake

Jana: azzi u need to be awake right now

Caroline: you never sleep in this late

Jana: like are u alive. blink twice

Caroline: or text back once. that also works

Jana: ok whatev. just sayin i knoww this is you. impossible to miss.

(photo attached)

Paige stands between two fans outside a bar, halfway smiling, the picture blurry and rushed. But behind her—just out of focus—is a flash of curls, bare legs, and Paige’s hand tucked casually, unmistakably, into the waistband of someone’s skirt.

Caroline: it’s all over the internet. good luck ❤️

Meanwhile....

Courtney: You awake?

Bridget: She’s definitely awake. Just ignoring us. Like a coward.

Courtney: Open Instagram, Bueckers.

Bridget: Or Twitter. Or TikTok. Or honestly any platform with Wi-Fi.

Courtney: You’re trending.

Bridget: And not for buckets. Unless we’re counting the hand placement.

Courtney: 👀👀👀👀

Bridget: Do your fingers normally go in people’s waistbands or is that reserved for 23-year-old rookies?

Azzi’s POV

Azzi woke slow.

The kind of slow that only came with deep, consuming sleep. Her limbs heavy. Her breath even. The air cool against her skin.

She didn’t open her eyes at first—just listened. To the faint hum of the fan. The occasional sound of a car outside. The soft, steady rhythm of breathing that wasn’t hers. Warmth. There was so much warmth. All around her. Beneath her.

Wait.

Her eyes blinked open.

Bed. 

Not hers. 

Shirt.

Also not hers.

Arm. Around her.

Fingers. Definitely tucked under the hem of said not-her-shirt.

Her breath caught.

Oh no. Oh god. Oh god oh god oh god.

Paige Bueckers’ face, just inches from hers. Soft in sleep. The sharpness she wore during the day was gone now, melted into something unguarded. Her mouth parted slightly. Lashes casting shadows on her cheekbones. A wrinkle just barely formed between her brows, like even unconscious, she was thinking too hard.

Azzi's hand moved before her brain could stop it. Fingers trembling as she reached up, slow and unsure, like maybe if she touched gently enough, the moment wouldn’t break. She traced the line of Paige’s jaw, featherlight. Her skin was warm. Soft in a way Azzi hadn’t expected.

Paige twitched.

Abort mission.

Her heart slammed against her ribs as flashes of the night returned in uneven pieces. The bar. The drinks. The phone call. The crying. Oh god, the crying.

You called her. You told her you didn’t know your address. You made her come pick you up like you were a lost toddler in heels. You got into her bed.

You got into her bed.

She pressed her palms over her face and immediately regretted it because—hangover. Pain bloomed behind her eyes like firecrackers.

Paige stirred beside her and Azzi froze. Maybe if she didn’t move—didn’t breathe—time would reverse and she could pretend this was a dream. Or maybe the earth would open up and swallow her whole.

Honestly, at this point, she’d take either.

Azzi inhaled. Shallow. Cautious. Like her breath alone might trigger an avalanche.

She needed to move. To get out. To put a body-width’s worth of regret between her and the woman currently holding her.

Carefully she started to shift. One inch. Then two. She tried to slide her leg free but it was tangled. Of course it was tangled. Because Paige Bueckers had apparently wrapped herself around her mid-sleep and was holding on for dear life.

Azzi braced one hand on the mattress and inched back and felt the arm around her waist tighten.

Her heart lodged somewhere in her throat. Paige shifted behind her. A breath against her neck. A sharp inhale. And sighed as if content.

Then, like a trap snapping shut, the body curled around hers went rigid. The arm retracted in a flash, Paige pulling back like she’d just realized she was cuddling a live grenade.

Azzi didn’t move. Didn’t breathe. She could feel the heat rolling off Paige’s body, the tension wound so tight it practically buzzed.

“Shit,” Paige muttered, voice cracking from sleep and maybe a little panic.

Azzi rolled half onto her back, heart hammering. Paige was already halfway upright, blinking down at her.

“Morning,” Azzi offered, trying not to die.

Paige didn’t answer. She just dragged a hand down her face like she was rebooting her entire system.

Then, finally—still not looking at her—she muttered, “You talk in your sleep.”

Azzi blinked. “What?”

“You said my name.” Paige stood. Avoided eye contact. Walked straight into the bathroom and shut the door behind her.

Azzi flopped onto her back and stared at the ceiling like it had answers.

Her head was killing her. Not in a cute, oops-too-much-tequila way. In a someone-drilled-straight-through-my-skull-while-I-slept way. Her mouth tasted like regret and lime. Her stomach sloshed with something unholy. And the worst part—worse than the hangover, worse than the bone-deep ache settling into her joints—was the fact that she’d woken up on Paige Bueckers.

Wrapped around her, actually. Like a weighted blanket with boundary issues.

She groaned and flung an arm over her eyes, hoping the mattress might swallow her whole. Or at least deliver a mild electrocution.

But then, Paige appeared in the doorway, looking stupidly good.

Her blonde hair was down, strands curling from sleep and brushing against her cheekbones. She was barefoot, wearing a worn-in sweatshirt that hung off one shoulder, collar stretched from years of wear. Her eyes were still a little puffy with sleep, mouth soft, like she hadn’t fully woken up yet—and it was all so stupidly intimate Azzi wanted to throw something.

This was not how people were supposed to look after panic-spooning their drunk teammate teammate twenty minutes ago. This was how people looked in daydreams you weren’t supposed to have in the first place.

She tossed a bottle of Tylenol onto the bed. “Figured you’d need that,” she said, already pulling her hair back.

And just like that, Azzi had a new problem: Paige didn’t wear her hair down nearly enough. She should. There should be laws about it, actually.

“I’ll make coffee,” Paige added, her voice way too normal for the situation, and then she turned and disappeared down the hall.

Azzi lingered in bed for exactly thirty more seconds. Long enough to dramatically contemplate her life choices. Not long enough to make peace with any of them.

The Tylenol sat mockingly on the comforter beside her, and she swallowed two without water like the feral child she apparently was. Then, against every instinct in her body that begged her to sink back into Paige’s very soft, clearly expensive sheets and pretend she had vanished overnight, she swung her legs over the side of the bed and stood.

Bad idea. The room tilted. The headache pulsed. The oversized shirt slipped a little off her shoulder, brushing against skin that still felt too warm from—whatever last night had been.

A rescue mission? A soft abduction? A very specific fever dream?

She padded into the hallway barefoot, her legs cold and bare, Paige’s boxers rolled too high on her hips—something she hadn’t exactly planned for when she’d tugged them on drunk last night. They kept sliding up like they had a mind of their own, clinging to her in all the wrong places. Or maybe the right ones. Depends who was looking.

She looked, she imagined, like the patron saint of poor decisions.  And she definitely lived up to the name.

As she turned the corner, the smell of coffee hit her first. Then the sound of the machine gurgling and the quiet hum of Paige moving around the kitchen. Azzi padded in slowly, curling her fingers around the doorway like it might shield her.

Paige was facing away, pouring coffee into two mugs. She was wearing the same hoodie from earlier—dark gray, sleeves pushed to her elbows, the hem hitting mid-thigh over her checkered boxers. Her legs looked stupid long. Her posture was too casual. And Azzi had never wanted to turn around and flee more in her life.

Instead, she cleared her throat.

Paige glanced over her shoulder, eyes sweeping from Azzi’s bare legs to her curls to the very obvious fact that she was still dressed in Paige’s clothes.

“Feeling better?” Paige asked, handing over a mug like it was any normal Saturday morning and not the aftermath of Azzi accidentally calling the one person she should’ve never called.

Azzi took the coffee. Avoided eye contact. Tried not to combust.

“I’ve been worse,” she said, voice still rough with sleep.

“That’s something.” Paige leaned back against the counter, arms crossed, her gaze steady.

“I didn’t mean to call you,” she mumbled finally, staring down at the swirl of cream in her coffee. “Well—I did. But I didn’t plan to. I wasn’t—God, I sound like a freshman explaining a drunk text.”

Paige took a slow sip. Still didn’t look at her.

“You were scared. It’s fine.”

Azzi rubbed her eyes. “No, I was—God—I was embarrassing.”

Paige said nothing at first. Just stood there, still too composed for someone who should be as rattled as Azzi felt. Her arms were crossed. Her jaw tight.

Azzi forced a weak laugh. “Seriously, is there anything I need to apologize for? Because I barely remember how I got here, let alone what I said—”

“You don’t need to apologize for anything,” Paige cut in. Voice flat. Too flat.

Azzi blinked. Her stomach turned, not from the hangover this time. But then Paige exhaled through her nose and uncrossed her arms. Finally glanced over.

“You didn’t do anything wrong,” she said, a little softer this time. “You were drunk. And scared. And you called me, which is fine.”

Azzi’s throat burned. “That doesn’t make it not mortifying.”

There was a long pause. Then Paige set her coffee down and leaned her hip against the counter.

“Yeah, well. We’ve all been there.”

Azzi raised an eyebrow. “You?”

Paige shrugged. “I used to be young once too.”

Azzi opened her mouth to ask what exactly Paige had done in her younger, wilder days that could rival last night’s tequila-induced spiral but Paige spoke first.

“You can sit down, you know. Contrary to what you clearly expected, my chairs aren’t just for show.”

Azzi had no idea what she meant by that but she still hesitated. 

“I figured I’d overstayed my welcome.”

Paige’s brow twitched. “I’m not having you throw up in my car when I drive you home. Sit. Let’s get something in your stomach before we make any further plans.”

Azzi tilted her head “You cook?”

Paige didn’t look up as she opened the fridge, tugging out eggs and something that looked suspiciously like oat milk. “There’s plenty you don’t know about me, Fudd.”

Azzi leaned forward on her elbows, chin propped in her hand, completely gone. She told herself it was just curiosity. Just…interest. That was all. Not infatuation. Not this quiet, chest-aching thing that made her stomach tilt every time Paige did something completely mundane like push the fridge door shut with the side of her hip.

But it was hard to argue interest with the way Azzi watched her. Not when she was clocking every move like it mattered. Like she’d never seen someone make eggs before. Like the morning sunlight hitting Paige’s profile through the kitchen window was something worth praying too.

The pan sizzled. She threw bread into the toaster.

Paige moved around like the apartment had been designed around her—like it knew where her hands would reach, when her body would pivot, how she liked her spices arranged. She opened a drawer, grabbed a spatula, shut it with her hip again. Efficient. Effortless. Sexy in a way that made Azzi want to melt into the fucking hardwood floors.

And god, it was clean. That was the other thing. Everything in here gleamed. The countertops were spotless. The tile was pale and polished. The cabinets matched. The fridge was smart. The furniture looked like it had cost more than Azzi’s entire rent, and somehow, none of it felt cold.

It felt…lived in. Softened by routine. A house that had become a home. And it made her suddenly self-conscious about her own apartment—half-unpacked, cluttered with laundry, toothpaste cap always missing, fridge suspiciously empty except for energy drinks and string cheese.

She dragged her eyes back to Paige just in time to see her crack an egg with one hand, wrist flicking like it was second nature.

Showoff.

Paige didn’t even seem aware of the spell she was casting. Her blonde hair was tied back into that same low bun it always was, but sleep had curled the ends and loosened it just enough to make her look heartbreakingly soft. One piece kept falling in front of her eyes, and she kept brushing it back without thinking. Over and over. And Azzi couldn’t stop staring.

Couldn’t stop thinking: She’s beautiful like this. Like real-life beautiful. Not the kind Azzi had first became infatuated with when she was younger. The highlight reels. The thirst traps she had admittedly watched more than she wanted to admit. 

Just her. Making breakfast in boxers. In an apartment that smelled like fresh coffee and laundry detergent. And Azzi didn’t want to be anywhere else.

She watched as Paige reached for a plate, sliding eggs and toast onto it like this wasn’t the first meal she’d made for someone hungover in her bed. Like she’d done it before. Jealousy flared sharp in Azzi’s chest, stupid and misplaced. But still.

Paige set the plate down in front of her and handed over a fork. “Eat.”

Azzi blinked up at her. “You’re very bossy for someone who offered me hospitality.”

“You’re very mouthy for someone who cried at a bar and called me at 1 AM.”

Azzi winced. “You said you weren’t holding that against me.”

“I’m not,” Paige said, pulling out the chair across from her. “I’m just stating facts.”

Azzi tried a bite. Fought the urge to moan. They were perfect. She flicked her eyes up to find Paige watching her with a smug expression. But she said nothing. 

They sat like that for a minute. Quiet. Close. And Azzi could feel the tension stretching between them again

Paige finally leaned back in her chair, sipping her coffee. “So?”

Azzi blinked. “So…?”

“Do you remember anything? Or is it just one big tequila blackout?”

Azzi poked at her eggs. “Bits and pieces.”

“Define ‘bits.’”

“I remember calling you. And crying. Which is deeply humiliating, by the way. And I remember…water? And your couch.” She glanced up through her lashes. “Not much after that.”

Paige’s face didn’t move, but Azzi could see the flicker in her eyes. That near-imperceptible flash of something—relief, maybe. 

“You don’t remember getting in bed?” Paige asked, her voice unreadable.

Azzi scrunched her nose. “I didn’t throw up in it, did I?”

“No.”

“Oh thank God.”

There was a pause. Long enough for Paige to take another sip of coffee. Long enough for Azzi to add, quieter, “You didn’t have to take care of me.”

“You didn’t give me much of a choice.”

“I could’ve called someone else.”

“You didn’t.”

That landed heavier than it should have. Azzi glanced down at her plate again. “Well,” she said, trying to keep her voice light. “You know me. Always making excellent decisions.”

“Yeah. Excellent decisions like nearly falling off my bathroom counter.”

Azzi dropped her fork, covering her face. 

“I hate myself.”

“No you don’t.”

Azzi peeked at her from between her fingers. “Okay, but like…nothing else, right? I didn't attempt karaoke in the car or anything?"

Paige hesitated. Just a beat. Then shook her head. “No. You were just drunk. Tired. Sweet.”

Azzi nodded, cheeks flushing. Bit her lip. And didn’t admit she remembered Paige’s hand on her back. Her voice low and careful. The way she’d unzipped her shirt like she was touching something sacred.

Instead, she smiled, small and sheepish. “Well. Thanks for not letting me end up face-down in a ditch.”

Paige stood, collecting the plates. “Don’t mention it.”

For a moment, the kitchen fell quiet. The kind of quiet that felt like it had weight.

Then Azzi cleared her throat, tried to make her voice sound casual. “Hey. Any chance you know where my phone ended up?”

Paige didn’t even look up. “Plugged it in. On your side of the bed.”

Azzi blinked. Your side. Not the bed. Your side of the bed. Her heart thudded once—loud and inconvenient.

Azzi was already halfway down the hall when Paige called out, “Can you grab mine too, while you’re back there?”

Azzi swallowed and hollered a quick, “Yeah!” but her voice cracked halfway through.

Because now she had to go into Paige’s room. Had to walk over to the bed she’d definitely slept in, on the side Paige apparently thought of as hers. Had to see two phones, side by side, like this was something they did.

But the bliss drained out of her like someone had pulled a plug.

She blinked at the screen.

35 unread messages.

Group chats. Maddie. A few teammates. Random friends she hadn’t talked to in weeks. A notification from Instagram. Then another. Paige’s phone lit up next to hers—just as chaotic.

Mostly from a group chat called Elders.

Courtney Williams had the last word.

yeah you’re fucked.

Azzi stared at the screen, heart thudding. Because nothing good ever followed that energy.

She swallowed and switched over to Hoops & Hos, the group chat that never slept—except, apparently, when she did.

She scrolled through the messages halting as soon as she saw the photo. Azzi blinked at the photo like maybe, just maybe, if she stared hard enough, it would rearrange itself into something else.

It did not.

There she was. Just out of the frame but her curls unmistakable, a bare leg peeking out from the hem of that stupid skirt she’d thought was a great idea last night. And Paige, standing front and center, looking criminally hot and unbothered. Hand low. Fingers unmistakably—

“Oh my god,” Azzi whispered, breath catching somewhere between her ribs and her throat. “Oh my actual god.”

She zoomed in, because of course she did, because apparently she was a masochist. 

And there it was. Paige’s hand. Tucked into the waistband of her skirt with the kind of casual familiarity that made Azzi’s brain flicker like a blown fuse. Like she’d always belonged there.  Her heart slammed against her ribs, all flutter and dread and something far more dangerous.

“You good?” Paige’s voice carried down the hallway, and Azzi nearly flung the phone across the room like it had bitten her.

“Yep!” she called back, voice cracking on the consonant. “All good!”

She grabbed both phones with the urgency of someone fleeing a crime scene and walked back into the kitchen like she’d forgotten how her limbs worked. She set the phones on the counter and didn’t sit. Just hovered. Then picked up a napkin. Put it down. Picked it up again.

Paige looked up from her second cup of coffee. “You okay?”

“Yep.” Azzi’s voice was higher than normal. “Totally.”

A long beat passed.

Paige leaned back in her chair, slowly. “Right.”

Azzi shifted her weight. Crossed her arms. Uncrossed them. Looked anywhere but at Paige.

“You sure?” Paige asked, calm as ever. Not pushing. Just watching.

Azzi nodded, too many times. “Just tired. You know. Long night.”

Paige hummed like she didn’t buy it, but wasn’t about to call her out.

Azzi cleared her throat. “You, uh… get any weird texts this morning?”

Paige didn’t look up. “Haven’t checked yet.” She reached for her phone on the counter, thumb already unlocking it.

Azzi fought the urge to bat it out of her hands. But instead, she remained frozen.

Paige started scrolling, expression unreadable. Not a single twitch, not a single furrow. Just her eyes moving calmly across the screen like none of this was about to ruin Azzi’s entire life.

Azzi stood there, hands pressed flat against the edge of the counter like she might levitate from sheer panic alone.

Paige blinked once. Scrolled again. Tilted her head slightly. Still no reaction. Then she locked her phone, slid it into her pocket, and looked up.

“You ready to head home?”

Azzi balked and then nodded too fast. “Yeah. Totally.”

Her voice came out weird. Too high, too chirpy. Like maybe she’d inhaled helium with her anxiety.

She trailed behind Paige to the door, trying not to look like someone whose entire social life had just imploded. Her heart was doing something unholy in her chest. Her palms were sweaty. She was pretty sure her ears were ringing.

Paige hadn’t even flinched at her phone. Not at the texts. Not at the fact that the entire world had now seen that moment. Paige’s hand in a place that made Azzi feel vaguely unqualified to stand upright.

And now Paige was just…unlocking the door like nothing happened. Like Azzi hadn’t committed emotional suicide via tequila and poor decision-making.

Like none of it even mattered. 

Paige’s POV

Shit shit shit shit shit shit. 

Her hands were shaking as she walked to her car, keys clenched tight like maybe metal between her fingers could anchor her to the earth.

She hadn’t meant to look at the group chat that long. Hadn’t meant to scroll. Hadn’t meant to zoom in.

But there it was—her hand. Tucked into the waistband of Azzi Fudd’s skirt like it lived there. Like it had always lived there. Like her body had forgotten what restraint meant and acted entirely on instinct.

And the internet, of course, had noticed. A blur of curls. A sliver of skin. Paige Bueckers with her hand on Azzi Fudd like a damn claim.

She gripped the steering wheel like it might run from her. Like she could press her bones through leather and forget the way Azzi had looked this morning—curls a bit undone from sleep, legs bare and folded beneath her at the kitchen counter, Paige’s old UConn shirt hanging off her shoulder like it belonged there. Like she belonged there.

Paige blinked hard at the road ahead, but it was no use. The memory was already playing on loop.

The way Azzi had mumbled her name in the dark. The way her breath had tickled Paige’s collarbone. The way she’d fit—too easily, too perfectly—tucked against her like some cruel joke the universe had decided to play.

And Paige hadn’t moved.

She couldn’t move. Her whole body frozen with the kind of ache that didn't feel like pain until it was gone.

The worst part? It wasn’t the photo. It wasn’t the group chats or the headlines or the chaos she knew was coming.

It was how natural it had felt. Like she'd been built for this. For her. And her body had known it long before her brain had caught up.

The drive was quiet. Too quiet.

Azzi was in the passenger seat, curled toward the window, legs pulled up, arms crossed loosely over her chest like she was trying to take up less space than she did last night in Paige’s bed.

Which was ironic, really. Because Paige could still feel her there. Pressed in. Breathing steady. Soft.

She tapped her fingers against the steering wheel to the beat of the turn signal, trying to drown out the echo of Azzi’s laugh from the night before. The way her voice had gone all slurred and sweet when she said you’re pretty when you’re annoyed, like it was a secret she hadn’t meant to share.

God. Paige wanted to bang her head against the glass until she could no longer think about Azzi Fudd’s soft skin or the fact that she was still wearing Paige’s clothes. 

Azzi still hadn’t said much since they got in the car. Just “thanks for breakfast” and “I’ll Venmo you,” which Paige pretended not to hear. She wasn’t letting Azzi pay her for eggs and a hangover.

“Want the aux?” Paige asked, because silence made everything worse.

Azzi shook her head, barely. “I’m good.”

Paige gritted her teeth and nodded. “Cool.”

The light turned green. Paige turned left.

She wasn’t thinking about the road. Not really. She was thinking about how Azzi had looked in her kitchen that morning—bare legs, bruised knees, still a bit sleepy.

She’d stood there like she belonged. Leaning against the counter, fingers curled around a mug like she was trying to warm her whole body from the inside out. Like this wasn’t the first time she’d been there. Like she wasn’t ruining Paige’s carefully managed sense of distance just by existing.

Paige hated having people in her space. Hated the way they never put things back where they found them. Hated the noise, the clutter, the inevitable mess.

But Azzi?

Azzi hadn’t felt like a guest. She hadn’t felt like a disruption. She’d felt like a habit. Like something Paige could get used to.

Too easily.

Maybe already had.

The way she moved through the apartment, soft-footed and half-asleep, made the space feel warmer. Like all the expensive clean lines and curated furniture had finally found their missing piece: one rookie with no sense of self-preservation and a smile that could knock the wind out of you.

Paige gripped the wheel tighter.

Trouble, she thought. You’re in so much trouble.

Paige exhaled. “You doing okay?” 

It came out quieter than she meant.

Azzi blinked over at her, then looked away. “I’m fine.”

And that’s as far as the conversation went. 

Paige pulled to a slow stop in front of Azzi’s building, her hands still white-knuckled on the steering wheel. The radio played quietly. Something low and instrumental, the kind of background music you forget until it starts to feel like a soundtrack to your nerves.

Azzi unbuckled slowly. No movement went unconsidered.

She didn’t reach for the door yet. Just looked out the window, then down at her hands in her lap, like she wasn’t sure what to do next. 

Then, softly:

“So you do have my address memorized.”

Paige glanced over, and for once, didn’t try to dodge the implication.

“I used to live around the corner,” she said. “Kinda hard to forget.”

Azzi nodded, like that explained everything and nothing.

“Right. That makes sense.”

They sat in silence for a beat too long.

Paige tapped the steering wheel once with her fingers. “You good to get up there?”

Azzi nodded again. “Yeah. Thanks for…all of it.”

She opened the door and stepped out, but paused with one hand still on it. Her curls caught the light. Her voice was quiet.

“I won’t make a habit of this, by the way.”

Paige smirked, eyes still forward. “Good. I charge a steep rescue fee after the second offense.”

Azzi gave a soft, breathy laugh. Then shut the door.

Paige drove home contemplating who she used to be before Azzi Fudd showed up. And then when she got there, she collapsed back into her bed and exhaled like she’d been holding her breath since last night.

She opened the group chat, hit the call button, and barely gave them a second to answer before snapping:

“I’m gonna kill all of you.”

Courtney’s face popped up first, already grinning like she’d been waiting.

“Oh, hey, look who’s alive.”

Bridget joined with a yawn and a mouthful of cereal. “She lives! How was babysitting?”

Paige scowled. “Why would you send that photo to me?”

Courtney raised both brows. “Girl, it’s not like posted it. We were being friends. Friends who alert other friends when their hand goes viral.”

“I didn’t know the camera was pointed that way. I was—” Paige broke off. “I was trying to keep her upright.”

Bridget snorted. “By the waistband of her skirt?"

“Shut up,” Paige muttered.

“Have you talked to her this morning? Is she alive?”

Paige felt the heat creep up her neck. She didn’t respond right away, just looked away from the camera like it might buy her time.

“Pause,” Courtney said, squinting. “What are you not telling us?”

Bridget leaned in too. “No, because that face? That’s the ‘I did something stupid and now I have to live with it’ face.”

Paige let out a sharp exhale. “She stayed at my place last night.”

Both of them went silent. Which was somehow worse.

“…Define stayed,” Bridget said slowly.

“In my bed,” Paige muttered.

Courtney screamed. “NAH. You mean to tell me you woke up with that woman in your arms and just what? Went and made her coffee?”

“Not in my arms” Paige lied. "But also I made her eggs too."

Bridget dropped her forehead to the table, groaning. “We are so far past the point of pretending this is normal.”

“She was drunk,” Paige emphasized, rubbing her temples. “I wasn’t going to let her go home like that. She could barely stand. I gave her my bed. I slept next to her. That’s it.”

Courtney blinked. “You slept next to her?”

“She asked me too!” Paige shot back, hands already up like she knew what was coming.

Bridget cracked first. “Nahhh. You folded.”

Paige groaned. “She was hammered. What was I supposed to do? Toss her on the sidewalk?”

“Clearly sleeping in the same bed was the only viable option.” Bridget said and at the same time Courtney followed up with: 

“She got you that soft? Damn.”

“She couldn’t even stand up.” Paige protested. “I was being—”

“—a simp,” Courtney cut in. “You were being a simp.”

Bridget lost it. “Did you hold her real close?”

“I didn’t hold her!”

“Girl. Your hand was in her waistband,” Courtney deadpanned. “We saw the photo.”

“That wasn’t—” Paige stopped. Exhaled. Rubbed her face. “Okay. I did that. But I didn’t mean to.”

“Your subconscious meant to,” Bridget smirked. “Your subconscious is down horrendous.”

Paige sighed. Dropped her phone. Looked up at the ceiling. 

“She remember anything?” Courtney asked.

“She didn’t say anything.”

Bridget: “Well, she’s definitely seen that photo. It’s everywhere.”

Courtney: “She’s 100% seen it.”

Bridget: “Bet she zoomed in.”

Paige stared deadpan at the screen. “Y’all are so unserious.”

Courtney smirked, “And yet we’re the ones who didn’t dry hump our rookie in public.”

Bridget laughed, “Crazy how that works.”

“I’m hanging up.”

“Wait.” Bridget leaned back, expression changing just enough to sober the tone. “Okay, but real talk for a sec.”

Paige blinked. Courtney looked up too.

Bridget set her coffee down. “You need to check in with her.”

“I did,” Paige said. “I dropped her off like an hour ago.”

“No, I mean check in. Not just ‘you good?’ and hope she shrugs. You know how this works, P.”

Courtney stayed quiet. Let Bridget speak.

“Anything with your name on it blows up ten times bigger,” Bridget said. “And you know that. You’ve had years to get used to it. Azzi hasn’t.”

Paige opened her mouth, closed it.

Bridget went on, calm but firm. “She’s already in headlines just for existing next to you on a court. Now the internet’s got their hands on a photo of you two looking like—” She stopped, gestured vaguely. “You know.”

“A situation,” Courtney offered.

“Exactly. And you might be able to brush that off. But she might not. So just…talk to her. Don’t wait ‘til practice. She’s probably overwhelmed.”

Paige didn’t say anything at first. Just sat with it.

The weight of what Bridget was saying wasn’t new but it settled differently this time. Heavier. Truer. Because she’d been so caught up in her own spiral—what it meant for her, for her reputation, for the fucking team—that she hadn’t really stopped to think about Azzi. Not properly. Not outside the ache in her chest or the way she kept replaying the feel of her pressed close and warm in bed.

But Azzi was alone right now. In her too-small apartment. Alone and watching a photo of herself—of them—spread across the internet like wildfire. A photo that made it look like Paige was hers. Like they were something. Like Azzi had let Paige hold her like that. Like she wanted it.

Paige swallowed hard.

She could brush this off, eventually. She was used to the noise.

But Azzi wasn’t. Azzi still cared. She was soft in all the ways Paige wasn’t. Not weak but unguarded. Earnest. 

She laughed too easily. Blushed when someone gave her a real compliment. Said thank you like she meant it. And now the internet was passing her around like a tabloid headline. Breaking her down into pixels and assumptions and captions that didn’t care if she was ready for all of it.

Paige ran a hand over her face.

Azzi didn’t deserve that. And she sure as hell didn’t deserve to be left alone in the fallout.

"Yeah," she finally muttered. "You're right. I’ll take care of it."

And then she hung up before they could give her anymore shit.

Paige took a shower. Did the dishes. Skipped washing the sheets, though she usually did on Saturdays, for no particular reason. Her routine made her feel a bit more like herself. More stable. But eventually, she ran out of things to keep her hands busy and collapsed on the couch. 

She knew better than to look. Really, she did. But still, she opened her phone. Thumbed over to Twitter.

And there it was. First thing that popped up—bright, blown-out, a little blurry but unmistakable.

The photo.

She clicked on it like she hadn’t memorized it already. Like she hadn’t already played it over in her mind a hundred times. How her hand had landed there, stayed there, fingers hooked just casually enough to look intentional. And Azzi, leaning back into it.

Or maybe that was projection.

She scrolled. Slowly.

The replies were a mess of screaming, speculation, heart-eye emojis, and memes.

THE HAND. THE WAISTBAND. I’M ON THE FLOOR.

Someone check on Paige’s PR team 💀

Azzi Fudd you lucky lucky girl.

bueckersfudd truthers RISE.

they’re not in love yet but they’re dangerously close and i’m not well.

That one made her close out of the app quick. 

Paige lived by structure—almost obsessively. She had rules. About basketball. About interviews. About her personal life. Rules that kept things clean and quiet. Predictable.

She followed them like gospel. It was how she stayed out of headlines. Out of drama. Out of anything messy.

But Azzi Fudd had a way of making rules feel optional.

She wasn’t loud about it. She didn’t push. She just existed—soft and stubborn and impossible to ignore. And somehow that was worse. Because Paige couldn’t build a defense against that. Couldn’t outwork it or outrun it. Not when Azzi called her at 1 a.m. Not when she curled up in Paige’s bed like she belonged there. Not when she whispered things like I always think you’re pretty like it didn’t cost her anything.

And that was such an issue but she wasn’t going to let her own mental breakdown leave Azzi dealing with this alone. 

So she pulled out her phone. Texted one of the managers:

you got azzi fudd’s address?

He sent it fast, no questions asked. Paige stood. Paced. Went to her closet. 

She wasn’t proud of what happened next:

Tried on three different outfits. Ditched a hoodie for something a little more put-together. Then too put-together. Then accidentally hot.

She landed somewhere in the middle. Baggy jeans. Cropped tank. Hair up. Hair down. Hair up again. And then got so embarrassed she just forced herself to walk away. To grab her keys. To go do the right thing. 

Azzi’s POV

As soon as she stepped inside her apartment, it hit her.

The mess. The clothes she’d meant to fold three days ago still draped over the back of the couch. The empty protein bar wrappers on the counter. The faint smell of takeout that hadn’t quite left.

After spending the night in Paige’s world—all minimalist neutrals and soft lighting and countertops that practically sparkled—this just felt…loud.

Embarrassingly loud.

She didn’t even let herself sit down. Didn’t look at her phone. Didn’t think about the photo.

Instead, she grabbed a laundry basket and started tossing clothes into it. Wiped down the counters. Took out the trash.

It was easier to focus on surfaces than feelings. Easier to scrub her stove than remember how close Paige had been this morning. How she'd smelled like sleep and shampoo and something dangerously good.

She was spiraling, and she knew it. But at least the floor was clean.

She was halfway through fixing the sheets when her phone lit up.

She didn’t even pretend to be surprised—just sighed, stared at the screen like it might disappear if she waited long enough, but she knew they wouldn’t stop. She flopped backward onto the bed and answered.

“Girl,” Jana said immediately, her face filling the screen.

Caroline appeared half a second later

“You alive?” she asked.

Azzi groaned into a pillow. “Debatable.”

“You broke the internet,” Jana said, practically gleeful.

“Seriously. People are spiraling,” Caroline added. “Like, full meltdown levels of spiraling.”

Then, pause.

Jana squinted. “Wait. Is that a UConn shirt?”

Azzi glanced down like she’d forgotten. Tugged at the hem, like that might make it disappear. “She gave it to me to sleep in.”

Jana let out a slow whistle. “Okay, but whose bed did you sleep in?”

“Don’t answer that,” Caroline said. “Let the mystery live. It’s better for the brand.”

“I don’t have a brand,” Azzi muttered.

“Babe,” Caroline said, deadpan, “you’re trending right now. You absolutely have a brand.”

Azzi groaned and covered her face again. “Oh my god. Stop talking.”

“Someone just tweeted, ‘Paige Bueckers has never guarded someone as hard as she’s guarding Azzi Fudd’s waistline,’ and I’m still not over it,” Jana cackled. “I love this.”

Azzi bit down on her lip. “It’s not like that.”

“Oh?” Jana raised a brow. “So Paige just routinely tucks her hand into people’s skirts for platonic support?”

“That’s not what it looked like,” Caroline added, scrolling. “There’s a thread with like, eighty thousand likes titled ‘the way Paige Bueckers looks at Azzi Fudd could end wars.’”

Azzi didn’t laugh. Because something inside her had started to come loose. Like her body was just now registering the weight of it all. Her chest felt too tight. Her eyes burned.

Azzi sat up straighter, her stomach twisting. “You guys—can you just—stop?”

Both faces went quiet.

Azzi exhaled, shaky and uneven. Her voice came quieter this time, like it had to squeeze its way past everything caught in her throat. “I didn’t mean for any of this to happen. I wasn’t trying to—” Her jaw clenched. “I was just drunk. And stupid. And I called her. And now everyone’s analyzing everything and talking about me and I just…”

She trailed off, breath catching mid-sentence. Like finishing the thought might break her.

Caroline’s voice softened instantly. “Azzi, no one’s mad at you. You didn’t do anything wrong.”

“But now my name’s in all these headlines,” she said, voice cracking on the last word, “and people are speculating and making assumptions and none of it’s even about basketball anymore.” Her shoulders hunched, like she was trying to take up less space. “I just wanted to go home. I didn’t want to be a story.”

“Hey,” Jana said, leaning closer into the camera. “Hey. Breathe. Just breathe, alright?”

Azzi wiped at her cheek quickly and shook her head, humiliated. “This is so dumb. I’m being dumb.”

“You’re being overwhelmed,” Caroline corrected gently. “And that’s allowed. Especially when everyone and their burner account has an opinion about you now.”

There was a pause. A quiet, tender beat.

“I just feel terrified,” Azzi admitted, voice barely above a whisper. “Because what if this ruins things? What if she holds this against me? What if she pulls back just to prove something to people who don’t even know us? I—”

A knock cut her off. She froze.

“Uh.” Her eyes flicked toward the door. “Someone’s at my apartment. Which is weird because I know no one.”

“We’ll stay on the phone with you,” Caroline said immediately, already straightening in frame.

Azzi nodded and tiptoed down the hall, phone still in hand. There was no peephole—which she now realized was probably a major safety hazard, but she’d ignored it when she signed the lease because the view from the balcony was nice and the rent didn’t make her cry.

“Can you hear anything?” Jana whispered.

Azzi shook her head, inching closer. Her pulse thrummed in her ears. She tightened her grip on the phone, then braced herself and pulled the door open…

And there was Paige.

Jeans, cropped tank, bag of takeout in one hand like it wasn’t the most disarming thing Azzi had ever seen. 

Azzi blinked. Paige blinked back.

“Paige?”

The other side of the FaceTime exploded.

“Oh my god. Hi Pai—”

Azzi hung up so fast her thumb nearly jammed. Just panic swipe. Immediate regret. She looked back at Paige, pulse still stuttering like it hadn’t caught up to reality yet.

“What are you doing here?”

Paige didn’t flinch. Just tilted her head, calm and a little infuriating. “What? You can show up at my place in the middle of the night, but I can’t return the favor?”

Azzi rocked on her heels, suddenly aware of how messy she looked. How the apartment behind her still looked like someone had tornadoed through it trying to clean in a panic.

“My apartment isn’t nearly as nice as yours. I—”

“Fudd,” Paige cut in, voice gentler now, “do you honestly think I care?”

Azzi’s mouth opened, then closed.

“Now,” Paige added, holding up the bag like a peace offering, “are you going to have some manners and invite me in, or did I grab takeout and drive over here for nothing?”

Azzi stepped aside and watched, pulse hammering, as Paige crossed the threshold like it wasn’t a big deal. Like she did this all the time. Like this was normal.

She set the takeout on the counter and glanced around once. No judgment, just quiet observation. But Azzi still winced at the drying rack overflowing with mismatched cups and the stray sock half-tucked under the couch. Her entire apartment screamed not ready for company, and Paige Bueckers looked like company that came with high standards and expensive soap.

When Paige turned around, though, she was smirking. Dangerous. Too knowing.

“Like that shirt or something?”

Azzi looked down and immediately wished she hadn’t. She was still in Paige’s UConn shirt. 

She swallowed. “It’s comfortable,” she mumbled, trying for nonchalant and failing spectacularly.

Paige just nodded. “Keep it then. I’ve got hundreds.”

And Azzi, who’d gone toe-to-toe with defenders twice her size, who’d handled press like a pro and played through injuries without flinching—nearly blacked out on the spot.

“Thanks,” Azzi said quietly, voice smaller than she meant it to be. Her fingers tugged at the hem of the shirt absentmindedly. Then, after a beat: “But really…am I in trouble?”

It was the only thing that made sense. Paige Bueckers, in her kitchen, unpacking takeout like this was just another day. That had to mean something serious was coming. A reprimand. A reset. A goodbye.

Paige glanced over her shoulder. “No,” she said. Softer than Azzi expected. “I just—I know that picture’s out there. And I know people are loud. And I wanted to make sure you’re doing alright.”

Azzi froze. Her stomach dropped, then flipped, then landed somewhere near her throat.

“You came over…to check on me?”

Paige let out a breathy laugh, shaking her head as she opened a container. “Well, I originally came to get my shirt back. But since that’s clearly not happening…” She looked at her again, gaze steady. “Yeah. I came to check on you.”

Azzi didn’t know what to say to that. So she didn’t.

“Now, come on,” Paige added, nudging a pair of chopsticks her way. “Come eat. And we’ll talk about it.”

[misayani]

BOOBS, THIGHS, OR HANDS? — SQUID GAME WOMEN AND MEN

◜ featuring ... kang mi-na (player 196), no eul (guard 011), se-mi (player 380), jun-hee (player 222), hyun-ju (player 120), young-mi (player 195), kang sae-byeok (s1 player 067), thanos (player 230), dae-ho (player 388), nam-gyu (player 124), min-su (player 125), myung-gi (player 333), in-ho (frontman)

𔗨 author's note — badly need to write something else that's not smut after this [lowercase intended]

🧷 𝓜isa mentions — @joc3lynx @mymel1008 @justredsw @wlvlurvsfimmia @azansstuff @dvrk-hoon @yersang-dreams @keiradg01

warnings: nsfw [everything is consensual]

𓏲๋࣭࣪˖ BOOBS — no eul, se mi, jun hee, young mi, sae byeok, thanos, dae ho, min-su

no-eul fucking loves your boobs, no matter the size. she loves railing you in front of a mirror just so she could see them jiggle while she uses her strap on you. she's also the type who would leave bite marks on your boobs, not just kiss marks, but bite marks. no-eul would always make you undress your top whenever you ride her so that she could watch them bounce and squeeze them !!

guess who would suggest you get nipple piercings? se-mi. she absolutely loves it when you wear thin tank tops at home cause she gets to see them through the fabric. se-mi's also the type to take pictures of your boobs and jerk off to them whenever she misses you.

pervy jun-hee LOVES when you wear revealing tops cause obviously, boobs !!! jun-hee's the type of bestfriend who claims to herself that she's a girl's girl and just- very very close with girl-friends, so it wasn't totally weird when she asked to touch your boobs just because she was 'curious'. and of course, you let her, girl bestfriends touch each others boobs, right??? 

young-mi has an oral fixation, i repeat, young-mi has an oral fixation. she's so fucking needy and always needs her mouth to be latched onto your boobs 24/7. she literally wouldn't back down until you let her suck on them !!! young-mi can't also sleep without having your boob on her mouth :((

wax play with sae-byeok !!! it's insane she gets herself off just by pouring melted wax on your boobs while you cry out of pain. sae-byeok's also the type to slap your boobs !!! it's strange how sae-byeok likes to inflict pain on her lover.

titty fucking is something su-bong enjoys a lot. whenever you both have sex, there should always be a round where he gets off by fucking your boobs. andddd cumshots !! he loves cumming on your chest, and then he would lick his own cum from them after ♡

dae-ho's the type of man who would masturbate while his eyes are locked onto the sight of your boobs. like literally, you're just in front of him, playing with them, while he jacks off. 

to end this off nicely, we have min-su, who just really loves your boobs. it's nothing sexual, he just really admires them. whenever you both have movie nights, he'd squeeze and play with them—cause he thinks they're so soft and squishy and all that. overall just a sweet boy who admires your body sm !!

𓏲๋࣭࣪˖ THIGHS — mi na, hyun ju, nam gyu

when i think of thigh rider, i think of mi-na. this girl adores your thighs so much, esp when you wear super cute clothing that shows them!! plus, mi-na can get possesive of you, so that'll mean her marking your plush thighs up and making you wear short dresses in public <3

hyun-ju loves burying her face on your thighs and then just sleep like that. she's also a body worshipper !!!! absolutely loves your body no matter the size, color, shape. whatever you give her she'll love it, as long as it's you.

thigh fucking with nam-gyu. i can imagine him having you on his lap with his dick in between your thighs—pumping him—while he spanks the fuck out of your ass until it turns red. AND HAVE YOU SEEN THIS GUY'S HANDS??? he'll definitely take advantage of how nice his hands look like. he's probably the type of guy who would take a picture of his hand gripping your thighs and then make you post the picture on your instagram to make the whole world see that you're taken. 

𓏲๋࣭࣪˖ HANDS — myung gi, in ho

myung-gi likes to hold your hands a lot! even if you say no cause you think your hands get sweaty so much, the boy does not gaf. it's the part of you that he fidgets with so much—when he gets nervous, when he's thinking of something, or just while he absentmindedly scrolls on his phone. 

sugardaddy in-ho who would spend hundreds of thousands of won on your nail set !!! of course, he'll pamper his baby's hands before you return the favor and give him a handjob <3 he absolutely just loves making you pretty and dainty all the time. until he gets tired of you and just leaves you off somewhere

@misayani

[jakesimfromstatefarm]

──── SAY IT AGAIN . ↳ one shot // also part of the no doubt series !

✎ᝰ .ᐟ aka the one where you say it and jake needs to hear it ten more times. at least.

── sim jaeyun x f!reader ౨ৎ wc. 1.2k ⌗ fluff, crack, romcom, teeth rottingly sweet

↳ IMPORTANT NOTE .ᐟ ── this is part of my no doubt series ─ a sequel series of short drabbles that take place after the events of my fic no doubt, and show jake & reader's relationship throughout their first year together (& how jake wins her trust & love back hehe) ── THIS CAN BE READ AS A ONE-SHOT, however, there will be some easter eggs if you've read no doubt before!

↳ addie's ✉ .ᐟ ── guyssss ok as i promised here is jakey boy finally earning love back <3 i think we've had him suffer long enough LOL also hope everyone is doing alright <33 i'm on vacation rn so not as responsive but ty for all the constant love :D

The sky is blue.

Grass is green.

You love Jake.

The earth is round.

All facts. All uncomplicated. All undeniable.

And it doesn’t hit you out of nowhere, no.

You know it’s been there—the quiet, steady build. A soft ache growing in the background.

Growing with each time Jake offered you the last fry. Each time he would drop down to tie your shoe lace that you didn’t even know was loose. Each time he stayed.

And now, all he’s doing is existing—sitting across from you in this tiny 24/7 ramen shop you both wandered into at this ungodly hour because neither of you could sleep, watching him attempt to twirl a borderline criminal amount of noodles in between his chopsticks.

And you know you love him.

You love the way his brows furrow in concentration like he’s solving world hunger. You love the way he sticks his tongue out a little in focus, completely oblivious to how stupidly endearing it makes him look.

And you love how, despite everything—despite your walls, your fear, your messes—

He’s still here. Always here.

And you love him. You’ve always loved him.

So much that—

You don’t even realize you’ve said it out loud.

Not until Jake freezes mid-noodle lift, his chopsticks dangling comically in the air like someone’s pressed the pause button on his life.

“…What,” he croaks out.

Voice cracked.

Eyes wide.

Noodles forgotten.

And you?

Oh.

OH.

“You—what did you just say?” he asks, voice an octave higher than normal. Panicked.

Like he genuinely thinks he might be hallucinating. Like someone spiked his noodles with delusion.

You stare at him.

He stares back.

I—” You swallow. “Nothing. I said nothing.”

Jake immediately drops his chopsticks in his bowl with a clatter, tiny drops of soup splattering around but he doesn’t care. Not even a flinch.

“No. No, you did not just say nothing. I know I heard it. Say it again.”

You shake your head so fast you think you give yourself whiplash, “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

Jake makes a noise. An actual noise.

Somewhere between a breathless laugh, a wheeze, and maybe the noise a cartoon character makes when their heart pops out of their chest.

He leans—or launches—himself across the table, hands immediately grabbing over yours like he’s desperate (which, to be fair, he is).

“Baby. Please,” his voice cracks on the last word, and you’ve never seen his eyes so big, so sparkly, so tragic.

It’s pathetic.

It’s adorable.

You love him.

Your cheeks burn as you groan, tilting your head back, “You’re so annoying.”

“I know,” Jake nods so aggressively his hair flops into his eyes. “And I will continue to be annoying if it means you’ll say it again. Please, I’m begging you—”

You watch him for a long moment, pursing your lips to hold back your smile, pretending to think about it.

He looks like a kicked puppy.

A trembling, hopeful, kicked puppy.

And well—

You already said it once.

A soft smile tugs at your lips.

“I love you,” you say, gently.

And Jake physically malfunctions.

His hands grip yours even tighter, his mouth dropping open, eyes sparkling.

“Say it again.”

A laugh escapes you, shaking your head at how ridiculous your poor boyfriend is being.

“You’re such a loser, Jakey.”

“I don’t care,” he breathes. “Say it again—”

“I love you, Jake.”

A high-pitched, semi-feral squeak.

That’s the only way to describe the sound that comes out of him.

His head drops to the table with a soft thunk.

“Oh my god,” his voice muffled into the table. “Hold on, just give me a minute—”

You grin, your face glowing as you lean over and press a soft kiss to Jake’s head, your voice light and full of affection, “I love you.”

Sim Jaeyun is officially dead.

You have killed him.

It’s absolutely insane.

It’s absolutely adorable.

You absolutely love him.

Jake peeks his head up just enough to see you smiling back at him already, “You have to stop or I will combust. Right here, right now. Goodbye, world—”

You giggle, resting your chin in your palm as you watch him completely lose it, “Alright, alright, don’t act too surprised—you act like we haven’t been dating for this long.”

Jake fully lifts his head up from the table now, all flushed cheeks, starry eyes, and wrecked smiles.

“Well, yeah,” he breathes, eyes never leaving your face as if he’s trying to memorize exactly how you’re looking at him right now. “But now you love me. Officially. Out loud. With words.”

You roll your eyes with a smile, but something deep in you swells. Your smile softens. Your voice lowers, quieter now, more vulnerable.

“I think…” you murmur, your gaze drifting down to the way your hands fit so perfectly in his own, “I think I have for a while now. Love you, I mean.”

Jake doesn’t say anything.

He doesn’t have to.

You glance up to find him watching you with something devastating in his expression, his mouth parting a little, but no sound coming out.

You smile, a little self-conscious, your voice growing smaller, “I don’t know why it took me so long to figure it out. I guess I was scared. Or stupid. Or both.”

You laugh softly, eyes lowering as guilt pricks at you, “I’m sorr—”

“Don’t apologize.”

His voice is firm, but gentle.

You blink up at him.

Jake squeezes your hand. Grounds you.

“You don’t have to apologize for needing time. I would’ve waited forever. You know that, right?”

And you do.

Of course, you do.

Because it’s in his voice. In every quiet gesture. In every late-night snack run and sleepy phone call and every I saw this and thought of you.

In the way he looks at you now like you’re made of stardust and sunshine and everything good.

Something sacred.

Something worth waiting for.

You let out a small breath.

“You’re gonna make me cry in a ramen shop.”

Jake’s mouth twitches.

“You’re gonna make me cry in a ramen shop.”

You snort, eyes crinkling as you reach over to shove him lightly, “Drama queen.”

Jake ignores that completely, grinning as he leans over the table, his face now just inches from yours.

And that’s when your heart does a full-body somersault.

Because you realize—

It’s just him.

It’s Jake. Always Jake.

With his messy hair and stupid sparkly eyes and annoyingly perfect hands and beautiful way of loving you exactly right.

You lean in too, matching his grin.

“Hi.”

“Hi.”

“Say it one more time?”

A laugh.

“God help me.”

“Pleaseeeee?”

You think for a second before a small smirk grows on your lips.

Then—you close the gap and kiss him.

Right over the table. Right over your now-cold ramen. Right in the middle of this dimly lit 24/7 noodle shop that you’re glad only has you two as customers right now.

And when you pull back, breathless, giddy, smiling like a total idiot hopelessly in love—

Jake’s already smiling back.

“You love me,” he mutters again, in total awe.

You nod, eyes soft.

“I love you.”

Jake groans, like it physically hurts him to hold that much joy, “The love of my life just confessed her undying love to me over soggy noodles at 3AM and I don’t even care.”

You burst out into giggles, rolling up a napkin before tossing it at his face.

“Okay Romeo, eat your soggy noodles.”

Jake catches it mid-air—still grinning, still glowing.

And as he goes back to shoving aggressively large bites of cold ramen into his mouth, you realize—

Yeah.

Without a doubt—

You love him.

You really, really do.

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[shinhyunjin]

── .✦ after the rain.

⟢ pairing: lee minho x female!reader

⟢ genre: fluff, non-idol au, established relationship

⟢ word count: 1.9k

⟢ summary: the one where a street interviewer asks the story of how you met.

⟢ author’s note: hello, everyone! this is minho’s version of the meet cute series. i’m not sure this is an actual meet cute lmao but i got this idea from @/meetcutesnyc on tiktok, so that’s what we’re calling it. this one’s dedicated to @hykwrld because she asked for the lino version. i hope you all enjoy, and i would love to read your thoughts on it if you do<3

“Excuse me, are you two a couple?”

“Yeah” your boyfriend answers in a heartbeat, as if out of instinct tugging at your hand and making you stop walking right as he does.

You barely have any time to register the stranger in front holding a mic up to you and Minho—and the cameraman filming you while at it—before he shoots another question at you.

“Would you mind telling us the story of how you met?”

Hearing a teasing giggle leaving Minho’s mouth, and looking up at him only to see him already looking at you with his signature smirk, you brace yourself for the answer he is about to give—the very same one he had given one too many times, whenever someone asked him how the two of you met.

“I picked her up from the street”.

You shove him off as soon as his answer reaches your ears. “That is so not—” your eyes go to the camera. “He loves saying that, but that is not how it was”.

“It technically was, though” he argues, staring at the camera as well. “So what happened was, I was on my way home at like 2 AM after having a couple of drinks with my friends, and as I was walking past an animal shelter that’s like two blocks away from my place, I saw this woman kneeling down in front of the door, absolutely drenched—it was raining, by the way—and she was like, holding something inside her jacket trying to protect it from the rain… and she was crying so hard, I couldn’t help but worry…”

Throwing a brief glance at you, he waits for a moment in case you want to add something else. When you don’t, and nod for him to go on, he continues the story.

“So I walked up to her and asked if she was okay, and she started crying harder and was like ‘I found this kitty on the street and he’s so little and I couldn’t find his mum, and I can’t bring him home because my roommate’s severely allergic and said there’s no way in hell she’s letting him in, and none of my friends would pick up and my phone died now, and the shelter is closed and I can’t leave him alone’”.

You feel your cheeks heat up over how perfectly he remembers your heartbroken speech—and over how funny his high pitched voice comes out as he tries to imitate your sobbing, desolated one.

“To be fair, I was going through it” you hopelessly try to defend yourself.

“It was cute how she didn’t even think of going to a 24/7 convenience store to at least shelter herself from the pouring rain while she found a solution” he throws you under the bus.

“I was going through it” you emphasize your previous point through gritted teeth, earning laughs from all three guys next to you. “But yeah, my ugly crying must’ve moved him a lot, because he didn’t hesitate to offer taking the kitty back home with him and bringing him to the shelter for me the next day” a smile creeps up your mouth, feeling your heart warm up at the memory. “And he also offered to let me dry up and charge my phone at his place so I could call a taxi. I usually wouldn’t have accepted, I mean, he could’ve been a psychopath for all I knew,” you hear him laugh next to you. “But I was freezing and exhausted, and for some reason I felt like I could trust him, so I just went with it”.

“Back at my place I lent her some dry clothes and we had some tea to warm up while her phone charged, and we kind of grew fond of the kitty right away” he confesses, still remembering how neither of you could take your eyes off the orange and white ball off fluff sleeping soundly on his couch. “So we exchanged phone numbers and the next day when she texted to ask about him I told her that I would keep him, and that’s pretty much when it all started”.

“Yeah…” you reminisce as well with a fond smile. “The kitty was his now but I did still feel responsible for the whole situation, so I offered to help him pay for his food and shots and whatnot”.

“Of course I said no,” he chimes in. “But then I realised that it was the perfect opportunity to keep in contact with her, since I did find her very cute and wanted to keep seeing her…” his confession earns a smile from you. “So we ended up co-parenting somehow and now he’s our son”.

“How old is the baby now?” The interviewer asks with a smile.

“One year and nine months” you reply. “He was only one month old when I found him”.

“And how long have you two been together?”

“A year and a half” Minho chuckles timidly.

“Oh, so you got together only two months after adopting him”.

“Yeah, the whole co-parenting thing really got to our heads” you joke, and Minho lightly shoves you away with his shoulder.

The interviewer chuckles, holding the mic up closer to Minho. “So, what do you love the most about her?”

“Ugh, do I have to get all sappy now?” He whines, leaning closer to you.

“I don’t know, is the thing you love the most about me sappy as hell?” You tease, smiling triumphantly when he sighs rather heavily, preparing himself for what’s to come.

“Her heart” he goes straight to the point, and his genuine answer makes you pout in complete awe. “She has the biggest heart, she cares so deeply about everyone, especially about me and Yong-ie, so…” his soft eyes lock with yours for a moment—your feline son’s name slipping up from his lips. “I mean, the way she was crying over him when she found him and refused to let go of him… I think she would've spent the whole night outside waiting with him for the shelter to open, had I not gone up to her right then; and that only makes me love her more”.

“I think I would’ve, actually…” you sheepishly murmur.

“And what do you love the most about him?” The guy asks you now.

“Can I copy his answer?” You laugh.

Minho rolls his eyes. “Cheater”.

“I do love his heart the most, though. His compassion…” you specify. “There were a lot of people who walked right past me crying that night, which was kind of embarrassing, and he was the only one who went up to me and tried to help…” you feel his hand tighten his hold on yours, and you give it a gentle squeeze right back. “And then when he said he was keeping Yong-ie the next day… God, I got the fattest crush on him right then and there”.

Minho laughs under his breath next to you, and you don’t need to look at him to know his ears are turning red.

“And what is the next step in your relationship?”

“Getting another cat,” you don’t hesitate to say, looking up to Minho, who smiles the brightest at you. “Maybe?”

“Oh, getting another cat, definitely” he agrees. “We’re living together now and her annoying roommate isn’t there to nag about cats to us—”

“Minho…” you call him out under your breath, yet he doesn’t mind it one bit.

He is sure your ex roommate was more of a cat hater rather than severely allergic as she claimed.

“So there’s nothing stopping us from getting as many of them as we want anymore” he finishes his point.

The guy in front of you laughs, both at his words and at your reaction. “And your names are?”

“Minho” he says, although you had already given his name away a few seconds ago.

“I’m Y/N” you answer as well.

“Well, Minho and Y/N, it was a pleasure interviewing you guys” he wraps it up, signaling for the cameraman to stop recording. “I hope you keep rescuing as many cats as you want”.

Saying your goodbyes to the TikTokers, not without first making sure to write down their account so you can later watch the video once it is up, you resume your walk hand in hand to your apartment—the one that used to be only Minho’s up until four months ago, before you moved in with him.

Although some people in your life had said it was too soon to move in together, given that you had only been together for a little over a year by then, it didn’t feel rushed at all. If anything, it felt right.

You spent most of your days at his place anyway, for Yong-ie was there and you couldn’t bring him home because of your roommate. It had come to the point most of your stuff was at his and you were begging him to let you pay for the utilities, since he had made it clear he wasn’t letting you pay for half the rent like you had suggested more than once.

In the end, the obvious solution was to make it official and move the rest of your stuff to his place, so that the three of you would be together every single day like the family you had become a long time ago.

“So… another cat, you say?” He smiles.

“Yeah… I think it’s about time Yong-ie gets a sibling”.

“I doubt the spoiled brat is gonna like it”.

You chuckle, finding amusement in the contrast of how tiny and defenseless he was when you first found him, versus how big and spoiled he is now.

He is an only child after all, and as the cat lovers you and Minho are, he truly is living his best life.

“He’ll learn to like it,” you try to be optimistic. “He must feel bored and lonely at times when we’re not home”.

“Should we pay a visit to the shelter then?” He proposes, right before a taunting smirk curved up his mouth. “Or should I wait for you to find another one on a rainy night and call me crying to pick you up at 2 AM?”

“You’re such an ass” you try to playfully let go of his hand, only for him to tighten his hold around yours and pull you closer.

“Maybe” he agrees. “But I’m still the father of your child and future children, so…”

You shake your head in amusement—unaware of whether the second part of his sentence was meant for the future cats you planned to adopt, or the actual kids you may have one day. Either way, over such a statement coming from him, you feel fulfilled as ever.

Although the two of you always felt sorry for Yong-ie and the state he was in when you found him under the pouring rain, you were oh-so-grateful for everything that came afterwards.

After all, you only have him to thank for allowing you to come across the love of your life on that cold and rainy night.

[catssluvr]

dating nerdy/loser natalie scatorccio <3

⭑.ᐟ Straight up just obsessed with your existence, Nat’s blindly in love with you and would do anything to make you happy - probably loves you tons more than playing video games and that’s a compliment.

⭑.ᐟ Makes you watch all of her favorite movies, not so subtly looking over to catch your reactions to her favorite parts and also yapping about little details that no one else notices.

⭑.ᐟ Takes the gameboy she bought on second hand everywhere with her, pulling out in public whenever she’s on a line or even at school when she’s bored. She plays the games you find most interesting so you’re also entertained.

⭑.ᐟ Drags you to the arcade and makes you play the duo games with her, then plays the other ones while you sit close to her eating some snacks she got from a vending machine.

⭑.ᐟ Tank tops and pajama checkered pants are her go to outfit - not that you could ever complain. Also likes graphic tees with a long sleeved under them and sometimes the infamous leather jacket she wears just for you.

⭑.ᐟ Absolutely tears up whenever you give her flowers or anything of the sort, mostly just overwhelmed with how nice she thinks you are to her.

“Baby, are you crying?”

“What- no! I just had hot cheetos and they were extra spicy.” Meanwhile pouting with trembling lips.

⭑.ᐟ Talking of pouting, it’s probably Nat’s top one reaction to you being mad at her. She’d never make you feel anger towards her on purpose so most of all it makes her panic right there. Tries to solve it as quickly as possible because all she wants is to see your frown dissolve into a sweet smile so she can finally hug your bones out.

⭑.ᐟ Loves to sleep in and will not let go of you until she’s fully ready to get up, nuzzling into your neck and practically whining when you make move to take off the covers.

⭑.ᐟ The biggest cuddle bug and particularly adores being the little spoon. Have her lay her head on your chest while playing with her hair and she’ll be purring like a cat in seconds.

⭑.ᐟ Is an absolute tease who wants your attention 24/7, will pinch your cheeks and arms until you finally look at her.

⭑.ᐟ This girl gets the zoomies randomly, giggling about stupid things and jumping on top of you to tickle your life out and cover your pretty face in wet & very sloppy pecks.

⭑.ᐟ Never having to be scared of her cheating cause realistically she’s a big loser who can barely talk to a girl without stuttering and wears shirts that say ‘i love my gf’ every other day.

⭑.ᐟ Is so freaking clumsy, keeps on hitting her toes on wall corners and breaking cups because she trips on literal air. It’s all worth it for her though because she gets to have you as her personal nurse, putting a band aid over where she’s hurt before placing a kiss over it.

⭑.ᐟ Paints your nails while you tell her about the latest gossip going on, listening attentively and gasping dramatically when she thinks something is particularly shocking.

“He did what!? :0”

⭑.ᐟ Genuinely leaves hickeys on you sometimes without even noticing. She’ll be kissing your neck without any second intentions and before she can stop herself there will be a whole bruise on it.

⭑.ᐟ Has a lego collection with spaceships from star wars and some geeky video games. Gets sooo giddy when you buy her new ones and prepares a whole date night for you to build it with her.

⭑.ᐟ When you’re sitting together in class she draws silly doodles on your notebook, making very bad drawings of both of you holding hands with hearts around you.

“Look, that’s us :)”

⭑.ᐟ Sometimes gets a bit insecure and doesn’t understand what you see in her, it’s hard to believe you actually love her for who she is. But once you call her over when you’re with your friends in public and literally show her off she knows there was never a reason to doubt it.

[suiana]

yandere! loser who's chronically online and thinks that the world is ending because he can't find love. or rather, can't get a lover because wdym he's had a crush on you for five years and is STILL single!!!

bro's the type of guy to complain on reddit about being single and not do anything afterwards even if people give him advice. bro's the type of guy to say he's going to die alone and continue sitting in his room while watching lego building videos. bro's the type of guy that... also stalks you intensely after one single conversation where he thinks you're his one and only.

this guy probably thinks he's tough shit or something but cannot for the life of him, ask you out on a date like a normal person. forget that! he can't even get out of his house!

he lives off of his parents money (thank goodness they're rich) and doesn't work. why? because he says his dream job is to be rich and unemployed (successfully done btw). sooo no, he's probably not gonna be inheriting his father's company and be the hot rich alpha ceo you were dreaming of.

you'll get this weirdly obsessed loser though.

he's the ultimate loser! and in this ultimate loser pack you have gacha addict, fucked up sleep schedule, virgin, 70 different hyperfixations, reddit user, stalker, 4chan user, compsci graduate, have i mentioned stalker? yeah, definitely stalker.

stalking... heh, guess you could say he has a job... that is, if you count stalking and watching over you 24/7. yeah, that's right. the feeling you get that you're being watched even at home? that's him.

sure, he might be jacking off to surveillance footage of you, watching gf/bf asmr and pretending it's you talking to him... oh and also he might've built a mini shrine with things he 'borrowed' from you...

but really, you should just be glad he isn't doing more heinous things. for all you know he could be doxxing or manipulating you to be with him! god, that would be horrific. especially because we all know what 4chan and reddit users can be like.

like he's... weird to say the least. but it could be worse than just obsessed, crazy, and delusional. yeah, so what if he's thinking of scenarios that don't exist? scenarios that involve you, to be specific?

you don't even remember meeting him but he's gone and created a life for the two of you in his head already. for five years, if i must add. like... that's bloody crazy innit?

and he's also british.

yeah so😝

don't worry, he's crazy devoted! some might call him a yearner, others say he needs to be amditted to a hospital. whatever! they just don't understand him.

but you do, don't you? you have to! you're his one and only (one sided)! he's already planned the both of your weddings out, bought you TONS of gifts- you received his presents before right? yeah, those new headphones you wanted? you got it a few weeks back. your college debt? remember how it was mysteriously paid off? yeah, and the fact that you were happy about it must mean that you accept his advances!

yeah! g'luck mate you're going to be called darling REAL soon 🤑 hopefully. jost hope you don't get asked out on a date... he might do a little shanking 😵☝️

[peanutheaddd]

PEANUT YOU CAN'T JUST,,,,TELL US THAT SWAP PETEY DOESN'T KNOW HE CAUSED THE ACCIDENT AND EXPECT ME TO GO ON??? WITH MY LIFE??? WITH THIS INFORMATION????

AND GREG NEVER TELLS HIM???

oh what if he finds out by other means or other people,,,,like nurse lady or idk,,,,petey would never forgive himself (said sadly but with a thirst for angst)

also, i JUST realized the flat tail thing still happens in this lolol i'm STUPID. what happened to the tail? his dad? does greg know?

super Messy comic oops.

BUT THIS IS CRAZY BC I WAS LITERALLY THINKING ABT THIS BEFORE I WAS GOING TO SLEEP LAST NIGHT (thinking abt them 24/7 i fear 👎👎👎) AND MY THOUGHT WAS HE FINDS OUT BC HE MAKES DM GO TO THE HOSPITAL AND THEY ASK HIM WHAT HAPPENED . so were literally like this dawg 🤞🤞🤞

Gonan delve into swap au peteys psyche a little here . but one of swap peteys biggest flaws is that hes a Huge people pleaser . canon petey tries desperately to act nonchalant when he actually gafs, and conversely swap petey is always stretching himself thin trynna appeal to everyone even when he dosent need to (to others' and his own detriment) .

if the moral of the story for canon peteys arc is that he needs to allow himself to love others (a little reductive but bear w me) then the moral of the story for swap peteys arc is taht he needs to allow himself to love Himself . so if lil peteys role in canon is to teach petey how to love and forgive others again, then swap lil peteys role is to teach petey how to value himself and learn how to say no .

anyways all that to say that swap petey cares So badly what people think of him but he cares ESPECIALLY about the opinions of people he loves . and he puts his Everything into being of service to the people he loves (this is how i think about canon dm lol . hes not as anxious as swap petey but i do think most of his actions are motivated by being of service to others) .

it essentially all boils down to swap petey measures his self worth by how useful he can be to other people and the more he loves someone the more obsessed he is with having a higher value in their eyes. in finding out that hes the one who cause dms accident, his perceived worth to dm went immediately into the negatives and that terrifies him . 👍👍👍 he wants his love to be reciprocated so so So bad but because his perceived worth to dm is so shit he fully believes he doesnt deserve any degree of reciprocation . and tahts basically the root of his internal struggle LOL

and yes his tail is still flat ! im not entirely sure why tho bc the reason for his twil being flat is the same reason as it is in canon . and. we dont know the canon reason for his tail being flat . and at this point in the story dm Def doesnt know. i reckon it takes a Long time before petey tells Anyone .

liek i said swap peteys actions are almost wholly motivated by being of service to others and taht includes Not being a source of worry . tahts why in this comic he looks so unfomfrotbale after telling dm he has chronic pains and thats also why he keeps smiling and being reductive of his own pain. he feels guilty for yk. having his own needs and problems. LMFAO. so he def wouldnt open up abt the tail story of his own accord

[isa-ghost]

I love rpPhil from other rpPlayers' perspectives:

He makes Withers for shits and giggles. He's fearless. He's cold and distant, which makes him incredibly intimidating. He's old and wise which makes him even more intimidating, surely his age and countless years of knowledge mean he's extremely powerful (he is). He would kill you for a cornchip, he probably doesn't give a shit about you. He's easy to anger and he'll cackle like a maniac as he unleashes his wrath upon you. He'll become your sleep paralysis demon if you wrong him.

Vs rpPhil's perspective of himself and how he Really is:

He's just a guy. He's scared shitless 24/7 because he's a survivalist. He just wants to do his own thing and vibe. He's powerful, but humble to the point of putting himself down, nobody is more critical of him than himself. Also he's a dumbass. He's an anarchist and near-detrimentally self-reliant, not to mention immortal and tired of the curse of getting attached to others he'll inevitably lose somehow. You have to offer him shiny things and pspspsps him every day for a month to get him to approach you if he isn't already familiar with you or you don't have anything he has an interest in. He's blunt and where he's from swears are casual vocabulary. He's naturally a giggly bitch but also laughter is how he cushions the tone of his words to show he isn't upset with you. He's full of spite and loves to troll.

[luviangelgirl]

Loving You

Quinn Hughes x reader ₊˚❀.ೃ࿔*:･

Description ⋆˚✿˖° 3 ways Quinn Hughes shows you that he loves you.

⋆✴︎˚｡⋆ Notes, I LOVE QUINN HUGHES, also this isn’t edited lol

1 ❀˖° Never failing to give you a good morning kiss, even if he’s running late.

The alarm rings an hour to six. He spends 10 minutes staring up at the ceiling, trying to gain some consciousness. Then he shifts his eyes to you, who is currently laying on his chest, your warmth so comforting. He dreads that when he gets up, he’ll most likely disturb your sleep by taking his warmth away. However, those thoughts are pushed away while he admires you.

He thinks you’re the most beautiful human on earth. Even when you have drool on the side of your mouth and you’re leaving a little on his sleeping shirt. He knows if you were awake, you’d push yourself from him immediately. A little embarrassed from the drool, probably even from your messy hair, too. But Quinn thinks you’re gorgeous always, no drool or messy hair can ever change that.

It seems he admires your beauty for a long time because before he knows it, his 5:30 alarm starts ringing. This immediately pushes him to get ready, as he needs to be on the way by 5:50 to make it on time.

He manages to get up without disturbing you, which he’s very grateful for. Before leaving the bed, Quinn makes sure to cover you with the sheets, to maintain that warmth. In 20 minutes, he manages to brush his teeth and take a quick shower.

Now, it’s 5:50 and he’s ready, barely, but nonetheless, ready. And really, even though he should’ve been out the door a couple minutes ago, that doesn’t stop him from walking back into your shared bedroom and admiring you once again.

“You’re beautiful, darling,” he whispers into the calm, comforting bedroom. You’re still asleep, thankfully. He would never wish to disturb your sleep. Quinn leans down and softly presses a kiss on your forehead. He whispers again, “I’ll miss you, darling.” And he smiles when he hears you let out a soft mumble, almost as if you’re saying you’ll miss him too.

You have him in a loving trance, the only thing breaking him from it being the text from Rick:

Rick: You better be in the parking garage, Hughes. If not, get ready for some drills.

Sent at 6:56

Once again, he finds himself sighing while realizing the consequences of actions. Still, no matter how many lectures he receives from Rick, he will continue to take his time admiring you and kissing you. No amount of drills can ruin his day either. If he can start his day next to you, everything else is fine: the lectures from Rick, the drills, the teasing and complaining from his teammates. You make everything worth it.

“I love you, Angel, I’ll see you later.” Quinn says before leaving the bedroom and finally making his way to practice.

2 ❀˖° Reading together

A lot of people would never imagine Quinn Hughes to be a reader. The young hockey-player who thinks hockey 24/7? It definitely raised a few eyebrows of surprise. Still, Quinn Hughes loves to read. He loves diving into a story and learning about all sorts of nonfiction. Reading helps him unwind.

That’s what it is to him. Unwinding. Forgetting about all his responsibilities for a moment by focusing on a good book.

Quinn was very quiet about this hobby of his, not because he was embarrassed but because he was a quiet man who simply never shared too much of his life.

Before you came into his life, he never had anyone to discuss his readings with. I mean he had Jack, but with his brother living 3,000 miles away from him, the time spent catching up was definitely not about reading. Sure, he’d drop a thought like, “I started reading this new book a few days ago,” but that was really it, never anything further.

When he first started getting to know you, he quickly learned that you were a big reader. As a teen, you loved the twilight series, which helped grow your love for romance novels. Though, you didn’t only love romance novels, your taste ranged from romance to fantasy to nonfiction. All types of books.

You also loved reading. You used it as a way to calm and relax your mind.

So when you and Quinn came together, bonding over reading occurred.

One of Quinn’s favorite things to do after a stressful weekend is to lay in bed with you, both focused on your books. He liked spending this time with you, knowing you both get some pleasure from it.

He loves that he can relate to you in this way, your shared love for books.

You both try to finish your books at the same time. Every time you finish a book, you have a shared discussion, discussing if you liked the book, as well as all your favorite topics, scenes, and characters.

“Are you almost done, Baby?”

“Yes, Quinny, I need like one more chapter.”

“Ok, me too.”

Sometimes you’ll even switch books after reading. However, that usually occurs when you’re both reading either a nonfiction or science fiction book due to Quinn refusing to read anything but that.

Quinn knows that no matter what his hobbies are, you love him entirely. But your shared hobby of reading makes you both feel closer . You love hearing each other's thoughts on books. He loves seeing the way your eyes light up when you talk about your favorite part of a book.

Quinn and you love that you both share something that brings you joy and relaxation. The way you don’t even need to be talking to bond over something.

You love that Quinn loves you so much, he allows you to join in on his reading time.

You love Quinn and all his hobbies, but reading makes you feel indefinitely close to him.

Quinn turns his eyes from his book, locking them onto your body lying beside his, “I love spending time with you like this. I love every moment spent with you but this feels special.”

Your focus is shifted from your book and onto the love of your life, “I know, baby, I love it too. It does feel special, it’s like our own personal time.”

“You’re the only person who I can unwind like this with.”

“Really? What about Jack?”

“Can’t unwind with him, talks too much,” Quinn says with a grin on his face.

“I guess that makes me special then,” you reply.

“The specialist, everything a man could ever dream of.”

You chuckle, “I love you, Quinny. I love reading with you and discussing after. I love that we can spend our time loving books together. You’re my favorite person to do it with.”

“I’m only your favorite when reading books?” Quinn teases.

“You’re my favorite person on earth, my favorite person to do anything with.”

“You’re my favorite person too. I love you, Baby.”

“I love you too, now focus on your book or else I’ll be finishing first.”

“Not if I finish first.”

“You won’t.” You reply with a smile on your face.

Quinn loves every moment with you, but reading makes you both feel impossibly close and loved.

3 ❀˖° Holding your hand always

Quinn Hughes was not the biggest fan on PDA. He’s a reserved man, who likes to keep his personal relationships private. Well, that’s what he thought… prior to being with you. You, the one who he always wants to be touching. Obviously, he won’t make out with you in public. No. That’s way too intimate, those moments only belong to him and you.

However, he will give you a little kiss: forehead, cheek, or mouth. But his favorite way to always feel close to you in public is by holding your hand. Sure, he knows that you’re always close to him, hands held or not, yet the feeling of your hand in his intensifies so many feelings.

Quinn likes that such a simple gesture tells everyone you’re off limits. In a crowded bar, with many wandering to your gorgeous self, nobody will ever think you’re available, not if Quinn’s got his hand in yours.

“You want another drink, baby?”

“Yeah, Quinny, let’s go.” You say, also always wanting his presence by your side.

So, together you make your way towards the bar, hands held tightly.

No one in that bar would ever assume either of you are on the market. He loves and plans to keep it that way.

Another thing he likes about holding your hand is that he knows you’re safe. Public places bring all sorts of people. It’s no secret that Quinn’s an overthinker, so when he has your hand in his, you’re there by his side and he knows you’re good. That helps ease his worries and mind.

He shifts his focus from Brock onto you, next to him in the booth.

“Hi,” you mutter, feeling his eyes.

“Hi,” he replies.

He immediately feels at ease, your presence always bringing that feeling to life. You keep him calm and loosen.

You smile at him brightly and squeeze his hand, three times, a secret code for “I love you.”

That’s another thing he loves about holding your hand. It reminds him of your shared love for each other. He knows that you love him always, but the reassurance doesn’t hurt. No matter the action, Quinn knows you love him dearly and vice versa.

He squeezes your hand back, holding it tightly after.

He can’t focus on Brock anymore, not when his mind is running thousands of thoughts, all of you and how much he loves you.

Tysm for reading! 𖡼.𖤣𖥧𖡼.𖤣𖥧

[pboogerswbb]

SO IT GOES - chapter 13

Paige Bueckers x oc Warnings: sexual language & content (smut), hoops written by lila, kiran being clueless, language Wordcount: 11.5K (told y'all this was long) A/C: ty SOME OF YOU for being patient (the ones begging for a chapter 24/7... go touch grass), this chapter is SO LONG but it's what y'all wanted so buckle up!! ily guys i know most of you are respectful, once again i love reading y'all's thoughts so send them to my inbox :)) have fun reading this and sorry for the basketball content and if it doesn't make sense, in my head it did ok (also ty @thaatdigitaldiary for making sure the hoops made sense <33 ily)

-

Before London

The early morning rays of sun penetrate through the slight gap between my curtains, hitting my eyes in a way that makes me stir. My eyelids feel heavy, as my nose nuzzles the soft silk of the pillowcase underneath my head. I’m still half asleep when I hear faint snoring and steady breathing behind my back. Letting it guide me to consciousness, I focus on the gentle rumbling, the weight of a warm arm wrapped tightly around my waist. My hand is gripping on this very arm, holding it tight and flush against my exposed midriff. As I wake from my slumber, finally fluttering my eyes open I feel the heat of someone’s presence tingling against my back, pressing into my shoulders, the curve of my butt. My heart flutters.

Entangling our legs carefully, I turn around to find Paige, lips parted and face smashed against the pillow, rounding her cheek. The soft snores joint with the AC humming offer a steady lull, making part of me want to close my eyes and doze off again. But I can’t bear to look away. Paige’s long, dark eyelashes are pressed against her tan face, blonde strands falling over her eyes in her sleep. I reach over carefully brushing them back to see more of her, careful not to disturb her. I had never slept in her arms before. Sure, we had slept next to each other on some occasions, but I always made sure to turn around and take my space. 

I didn’t do it to be mean or cruel. Matter of fact it felt more cruel towards myself, because every fibre of my existence ached to curl up next to her and lie on her chest. I had never wanted to be close to someone so bad it hurt. Until now.

But I was terrified of getting used to her, her proximity, the warmth of her body in my bed. I couldn’t bear another heartache. I was still utterly fucked up from the last one, I knew it started with letting myself get used to sleeping in her arms which would lead to daily ‘good morning’ texts which would lead to me falling deeper, head over heels for her. I feared getting used to her presence, her affection. Because it would mean I’d start needing it.

But something in me last night didn’t care. Perhaps it was the way she had helped me all night, cleared up plates, made small talk with the guests effortlessly, anticipated all my needs, grew closer with my brother, I’m not sure what. But something had me backing myself into her as I lied on my side, somewhere between sleep and consciousness. She didn’t force anything, didn’t move an inch. But the moment she felt me scooching over her arm was ready to wrap around me. And I grabbed hold of it tightly, clinging to her all night.

I admire her beauty, her sharp nose and soft pink lips, faint lines on her forehead, the star-shaped pimple patch on her cheek. I don’t even realise that I’m smiling, or that the blonde is awake before she smiles too, blinking her tired eyes open.

“You’re staring,” she says hoarsely, voice raspy and rough from sleep.

“No I’m not,” I feebly defend myself, my fingertip tracing along the blonde’s jawline and neck, down to her arm. Paige hums contentedly, wrapping that very arm around my waist and pulling me flush to her warm body. I let her, scratching up and down her shoulder and bicep in a soothing manner.

Her blue eyes watch my sleepy face, our noses nearly brushing as our gazes meet. Her glare has always been intense, but it seems more so at this moment.

“Good mornin’ mama,” she murmurs sleepily. I blush at the nickname, shutting my eyes from the intensity of her stare that’s sending goosebumps up and down my body.

“Good morning love.”

A comforting silence falls upon us, as we slowly allow our minds to wake up.

“I think Rike and Lala know,” Paige says softly, her eyes shut now too as my nails drag up and down her bare back.

“I know,” I chuckle in a gentle way. “Lou too.”

“They not gon’ tell nobody, y’know.”

“I know,” I hum, knowing it was the truth. I suspected Lala had known for longer than me and Paige even have. I stir a little on my side, a familiar tension in my shoulder.

“You okay?” The blonde asks, pulling back the slightest bit. “‘M sorry, I get really warm when I sleep.”

I chuckle, shaking my head, “no, it’s my shoulder.”

“You need to see a massage therapist.”

I grimace, shaking my head, trying to find a comfortable position. “I don’t like strangers touching me.”

“C’mon, c’mere,” Paige coos, maneuvering me with ease so I’m lying on my stomach, most of my weight on her as my leg wraps around her waist. Her hand rubs up and down my back comfortingly, soothing the ache. “Better?”

“Better,” I repeat, chills spreading everywhere. In my tired and blissful haze, I wrap my hand around her chest and kiss her shoulder tenderly as a thank you.

“You need better curtains, it’s so bright,” the blonde groans, throwing a dramatic arm over her face.

“No it’s not,” I giggle. “There’s barely any light coming in. Besides, it’s morning.”

“Too much light, goin’ blind.”

 I reach my hands up over the girl’s face, covering her eyes with my palms. “There. Dark. You happy now?”

“Stoppp,” she whines, grabbing my wrists harshly and pulling them away from her. We both laugh sleepily, Paige pressing a gentle kiss on top of my head, smoothing over my wild locks.

“You ready for this game against the Storms tomorrow?” I ask gently, knowing games had become a sensitive subject for the blonde. She shifts, inhaling heavily before answering.

“I’m hyped I guess, wish Nika was comin’,” she says and hesitates. “Can’t wait to play against her next season, God willing.”

I smile, glad to see she’s thinking positively. Paige kept her feelings inside, but I knew the off start to the season was bothering her much more than she was willing to admit. Quickly, talks of Rookie of The Season had shifted from the blonde to Olivia Miles, and the media discourse hadn’t been helping Paige’s confidence. 

“Is this the end of the great Paige Buckets? Her rookie season has been disappointing to say the least. She seems to be distracted and in her head, missing threes and middies she used to hit with ease. Many people speculate that Geno Auriemma’s coaching is to bl-” blared from my phone just yesterday as I opened TikTok. It made me want to throw the device onto the ground, but the most I could do was to report the video. If I got content like that on my page, I couldn’t even imagine what the blonde saw on her’s.

“Uh- So what’s the plan for breakfast?” Paige asks, eager to change the subject. I catch onto the hint and let her - knowing that pushing it right now wouldn’t be smart.

“The schedule says blueberry pancakes,” I murmur. The blonde smiles, blue eyes flickering to my face on her chest.

“You memorise it?”

“Course I do,” I scoff. Something about this sets the girl off, pearls of gentle chuckles filling the room as she wraps her arms around me and squeezes tight. I giggle too, feeling her lift me on top of her. As she does the door handle makes a sound and before I know it, a shirtless Kiran is stepping into the bedroom.

“Morni- Oh, whoa.”

I’m lying flat on top of Paige, whose arms are wrapped tightly around my waist under the covers. The blonde quickly pulls the blanket upwards, covering both of us up to our shoulders. It was already an incriminating scene, but even worse would be if he realised the lack of clothes on us from last night’s activities.

Kiran’s eyes are wide, brows raised as he looks over at us. I rummage my mind for an excuse, any sorry reason I’m on top of the blonde in bed. He blinks for a while, as if resetting his brain. But he doesn’t say a word.

“I- Paige was cold,” I murmur in a panic. The blonde nods, pulling the blanket tighter around us.

“I really was, been freezin’ my ass off all night.” Her voice is so genuine and confident even I nearly believe it.

Kiran keeps looking at us, cheeks reddening slightly at the sight. “I was just wondering how, uh, how to use the coffee machine.”

“I’ll come help,” I mumble, about to climb out when Paige pulls me flush against her. It’s then I remember I’m nearly completely naked.

“No!” She yelps, rolling me over to my back, throwing the covers over my body. “I’mma go, you rest mama, had a long night last night,” she smiles, patting my hip carefully. Thankfully the sports bra and basketball shorts on her had stayed on last night. She grabs a hoodie off the ground, throwing it on casually.

Kiran, still red in the face, is processing (now on top of everything, the nickname too). The blonde grabs him by the shoulder to turn him around, walking him out of the room. Flipping over, I groan into the pillow, embarrassed. My ears burn and my heart is pounding, trying to find a way to make sense of this to Kiran without exposing the truth to him. 

Throwing on Paige’s shirt from last night, I button it up lazily. But as my hand wraps around the door handle, I realise this probably was the worst possible choice of clothing to walk out in after… that. Cursing internally at my brother who never knew how to knock, I undress and dress again in a pair of leggings and a sports bra, both dark brown and matching.

I exhale deeply before stepping out, prepared to stay composed no matter how flustered I felt. However, I’m surprised to find Paige and Kiran laughing together in the kitchen, making blueberry pancakes and talking about video games - something I never understood.

“Well good morning,” Kiran smiles, mixing the batter. Paige, tired but gleaming with quiet joy, gets up from leaning against the wrap-around island, handing me a large cup of coffee.

“Mm mornin’,” she says with a lopsided smile, fingers rubbing my forearm behind my brother’s back.

“Good morning,” I say, still a little flustered, turning towards him. “Uh, Kiran, so that was probably quite strange to walk into, I just-”

“Oh no, don’t worry. I know how girls are,” he chuckles, and seems to genuinely mean it. I glance at Paige who nods, covering the lower part of her face, hiding the smile that’s forming.

“Sure,” I mumble confused.

“You know, girl stuff,” Kiran adds as the blonde grabs a pan from the bottom drawer, placing it on the stove with a sly smile.

“Right, girl stuff,” I chuckle, shaking my head in disbelief behind my brother’s back. At this point I was beginning to question his intelligence. I was also concerned about what he thinks girls do behind closed doors. Standing beside Paige, sipping my coffee, I feel her hand run down my lower back to my ass, copping a feel just for a second while Kiran’s back is facing us. Giggling silently, I push her hand away, the sneaky touch leaving my skin tingling.

-

Unsurprisingly, keeping my hands off Izara felt impossible. I knew it would be a challenge, it always was. But at least usually I knew the moment we got home we’d get the chance to do what we’d been craving all day. I had completely taken it for granted. Because now with Kiran constantly around, my hands were subconsciously itching to touch his sister’s arm here, or waist there. To wrap my arm around her and kiss the side of her head. Keeping my hands busy had felt like torture. So I was grateful for the controller in my hands, just to have something to keep them to myself.

“Wh- How are you this good? I’m fucked,” Kiran groans, Fortnite blasting on the TV. He’s leaning back on the leather armchair, rubbing his jaw annoyed. Poor guy wasn’t doing too good. Izzie’s curled up on the corner of my couch with a book in her hand - a sight I’d gotten selfishly used to, trying to remember not to take it for granted like I had the touches and kisses.

“We played a lot with my girls back in Uconn,” I grin, leaning forward in concentration and resting my elbows on my knees, manspreading enough so my skin tingles against the girl beside me. “Back in the good ole days.”

Kiran laughs. “You don’t like it in Dallas?”

I contemplate, long fingers sliding over the controller. I guess that’s how I felt at first, and then again when me and Iz weren’t talking. But whenever she was in my life, the whole city seemed brighter, more vibrant. Especially now. As my eyes glance around the living room for the first time I realise this is my home. I could tell by the framed UConn jersey on my wall, surrounded by posters of my favourite players, the Lego Air Jordan decorating the TV stand, my Bible sitting on the coffee table next to the GQ, the decorative pillows Izzie helped me choose - oh and the girl next to me. Without even noticing, somewhere down the line, Dallas had become my home.

“Was thinkin’ I never would,” I tell Kiran, chewing on my lower lip to concentrate on the game. “But it’s lookin up.” I glance at Izara next to me, absentmindedly scrunching her face as she reads over the page. She always looked so beautiful like that, when she was really using her beautiful mind and having to focus.

The beautiful sight is interrupted, however, by the ringing of Izara’s phone. The girl lifts her head up, reaching for it and sighs.

“It’s Trey, must be work,” she murmurs, leaving the room in a hurry to lock herself into my bedroom. I roll my eyes in annoyance, feeling jealousy simmering somewhere in my stomach. I miss a shot but barely notice, eyeing the bedroom door. To my surprise, Kiran scoffs.

“Slimy guy,” he says.

“Tell me about it,” I reply, grip so tight on the white controller my knuckles turn pale.

“You get bad energy from him too?”

I lean back on the couch, fully aware my t-shirt was hiking up, showing some of my boxers underneath the basketball shorts I had on. “Never liked him,” I chuckle bitterly, feeling some sort of enjoyment as if Kiran was justifying my hatred. It felt satisfying knowing someone was on my side, finally.

“He just wants to shag Izzie so bad, it’s so obvious,” Kiran shakes his head, finally giving up and letting the controller fall off his hand to his lap. “The entire dinner party he was trying to suck up to me, I swear.”

“I saw,” I huff. “He loves to kiss ass, especially Izzie’s.”

“Izzie won’t believe that he likes her.”

I kiss my teeth, finally exiting the game, too engaged in the conversation. I always would be if it meant I got to talk shit about Trey. “Bro I know, I tried tellin’ her.”

Kiran shakes his head, looking at me from the leather chair. “She just has bad judgement with men. Like with her ex too.”

“Jasper?” I ask, reaching my hands up to fix the low messy bun my hair is in.

“Yup,” he nods. “What an asshole that one, a complete nonce. I saw it the minute I met him. Tried to warn her, but you know how she is.”

Yes I did. “Stubborn as hell,” I grin. Kiran looks at me knowingly.

“I just wish I was here to look after her.”

“I’ve been lookin after her,” I say without hesitation. The younger boy looks at me, eyes softening.

“She’s changed a lot,” he mumbles. “In a good way. She seems more… at peace, joyful even.” He laughs. “Wow, never thought I’d be calling my big sister joyful.”

I smile and maybe it was narcissistic of me to think so but I hoped that at least some of that was my doing. I could tell the difference from when she first arrived and now - like night and day. I adored her both ways.

“She was always serious, even as a child,” Kiran starts, smiling to himself. “One time she forgot to do her homework, she must have been like seven, and she beat herself up so bad over it and put these pink sticky notes everywhere around the house, reminding her to do her homework. Mind you, she had never forgotten to do it before. That lasted for many many months.”

I laugh, my heart fluttering at the idea of little Izara and her dramatic little gestures, sticking notes on doors and walls and mirrors.

“Our mum hated those notes, would try to tell her that one was enough but everytime she took them down they were up the next day.”

“That sounds like Iz,” I laugh. “She still lowkey that dramatic.” My face falls, glancing towards the bedroom. The door is still closed. Phew.

Kiran nods, chuckling. “Better not let her hear that,” he grins. “She’s strict. Just like mum.”

“Oh, I know,” I laugh. The times I’d gotten in trouble with that girl. I loved it though, she kept me grounded. She was exactly the type of person I could see myself with for a long, long time.

“When we were kids she was so strict about rules too. One time our granny tried to give us sweets before lunch and she told mum. She kept saying “granny broke the rules”. It was hilarious,” he smiles. “Well, not in the moment because I’d eaten the sweets and she told on me too.”

“Oh trust, it’s strict over here too. One time I got her to get ice cream with me before dinner but it took like, an hour of convincing,” I grin, playing with the ring on my thumb.

“That’s Izzie alright,” Kiran smiles. “The only person I ever saw her bend the rules for was this boy she had a crush on as a kid. Was the funniest thing, she would just walk around yanking his sleeves and if that wasn’t enough to get him to notice her, she’d just pull on the hood of his coat.”

I think for a while, warmth spreading all over my body as I listen to Kiran’s stories. “Well she don’t bend no rules for me.”

The boy looks at me for a while before shrugging and grabbing the controller up from his lap. “Another round then?”

-

“Look at my girl!” Lala grins, taking hurried steps in her strappy heels when she sees me. 

“Hey Lala,” I chuckle, wrapping my arms around her to greet the girl. Even with my heels on she was still much taller than me. Our voices echo around the players’ corridors, loud chatter of the girls, especially Arike’s, coming through the closed door behind us where the team was getting ready, hyping each other up.

“You’ll go sit with Kiran right?” I ask, worried I had to abandon my brother who was sitting amongst the crowd all alone - he wasn’t allowed back here.

“Of course, I’ll take care of your baby brother, don’t you worry girl,” the older woman smiles, smoothing over the cropped baby t-shirt and denim skirt I’m wearing. “This is so cute, I’m not used to seeing you so dressed down.”

I chuckle awkwardly, fixing my straightened hair. “You don’t like it?”

“No I love it, pretty girl,” she smiles comfortingly, raising her brow just a little. “I can see some… Paige's influence.”

“Oh, yeah she helped me pick,” I smile bashfully, knowing Lala knew exactly what me and Paige had been up to. There was no reason to say it out loud though.

“She good to you?” She asks, voice lowering just for me to hear. “Because if she’s not you know who to call.”

“She’s perfectly good,” I giggle, my cheeks heating up. 

“Who is?��

I know who it is before I turn, that voice at this point burnt into my brain, engraved into me like a tattoo.

“Mind your business,” Lala laughs, wrapping an arm around Arike who emerges from behind Paige. I laugh, feeling the blondes hands hold my waist as she spins me around, to see all of my fit. My body tenses, breath hitches as a natural reaction to her touch. It was impossible to keep my feelings beneath the surface.

“I knew this fit was gon’ be fire. You look fine mama,” she grins, eyeing me up and down. My knees nearly give in.

“Thank you,” I giggle, all desire to hide what’s going on between us disappearing in front of the engaged couple. Who cares, they already knew. I turn to Paige with watchful eyes, her face softening the moment we make eye contact. I loved the way she looked in her jersey, how broad her shoulders seemed, how well the black contrasted her pale skin. I could never get sick of looking at her, though I’d never tell her this. 

Not just anyone could’ve told Paige was nervous - but I saw it written all over her. The picking of her cuticles, the smiles she offered others that fell off her face much too quickly, the way she was shifting her weight back and forth, looking around for any distraction from her growing nerves. I had become an expert at reading her.

“Did you watch the new Love Island episode?” I ask the taller girl, elbowing her gently, offering a distraction. Her skin is sticky from the warm-ups earlier.

Paige looks around for a while before even realising she’s being spoken to. “Uhh, nah, didn’t have time,” she murmurs, chewing on the inside of her cheek.

“Five minutes ladies,” one of the assistant coaches yells. The girl beside me exhales heavily, and it was enough for me to know what she was thinking about. The late night discussions we’d had about Olivia Miles, the guilt Paige felt over the jealousy eating away at her. All current projections were showing Miles to be the Rookie of The Year and now she had to play against her, like some personal battle they were fighting. More than just Wings vs Storm. I tried to remind the blonde it was still early, and even Clark had her issues in the beginning. It was bound to happen. I’m not sure if this helped or made it worse for Paige.

“Heyyy, my favourite team!” Trey beams, approaching all of us gathered in the corridors, making our way towards the court. Immediately Paige’s jaw flexes, and I can tell the man’s presence was not appreciated at this moment.

“Shh,” I tell Trey sternly. “Let them get focused,” I shoo him away, hoping this will help the blonde’s nerves. No pep talks, or reassurance, or encouragement had worked before. I had been nothing but sweet and caring and gentle, but it seemed to have no effect on her game. So I decide to change tactics - she was coached by Geno after all. Gentle words might not be what she needs.

As we stand in the dark tunnel with the team, I face Paige, watching the nervous tapping of her hand on her thigh. 

“Stop, look at me.”

Without hesitation, her blue eyes flicker to mine, my hand holding her wrist still.

“You’re more than these people say about you, who gives a shit about Olivia Miles? You bust your ass every single day, and for what? Just to give up the crown that easily? I don’t think so, you’ve gone through way worse,” I tell her sternly, my voice quiet but authoritative in the low chatter filling the tunnel. “You’re not here to entertain, you’re not here to let the media use you as a joke, fuck that. Stop playing scared. Stop playing small. If you screw up at least screw up big, keep looking for your shot even if you can’t get a single one in. You’ve got something to prove Paige. Not to me, not to the fans or the haters but to yourself. Remind yourself who you are.”

She stares at me, face blank as she internalises my words. 

“Okay girls, let’s go.”

The team begins to head towards the court, but Paige stands still for a second before glancing up, her teammates far gone.

“Wait,” I murmur, my hands reaching for the hem of her jersey and tucking the fabric into her shorts, all around her waist from the back to the front. “Okay, you can go.”

-

The crowd roars for yet another layup for Gabby, but I barely hear them. It’s as if the crowd is closing in, my ears ringing due to their screaming. I missed both my jumpers, already getting me back into the mindset I had been in the entire season. I’m not good enough, I peaked in college, I wasn’t the player I used to be. On top of everything she is like a pest, constantly on me.

Sweat drips down my back, the jersey that still felt like a stranger’s clinging to me. Olivia is bringing the ball up the court, eyeing for options. We’re face to face, my hands active to find any moment for a stop. She had been on fire all night, the first half of the game gone much like the media expected. Olivia was hot with 16 points, me? A hard earned six, though the five assists were making me feel a little better. Still not confident in the way I used to be.

Miles glances to the side, looking for help from beyond the arc. Everyone’s locked down. Suddenly our eyes meet. I see it. I feel it. She explodes. Her shoulder brushes against mine as she speeds towards the freethrow line. I follow with fast feet and fast hands, matching her steps, staying locked in. No way she was getting this one. 

But I’m not fast enough. She hits me with a quick and nasty hesitation move, then snatching back. I stumble, nearly crashing to the ground. By the time I recover, the ball has already left her fingertips. An “ooh” from the ground and a swish. Easy two.

“That’s rookie of the year for you,” she yells at me as her teammates surround her.

She waves at the crowd to get louder, glowing with an ease I couldn’t have felt more jealous over. An ease I used to have. I couldn’t believe this was happening. Not to me. My jaw flexes and I grind my teeth together, trying to keep my composure the UConn way. She jogs past me, shooting me a smile that says “you got nothin’ on me”. The pounding in my head grows with the noise of the crowd. It’s as if they’re all mocking me, reminding me of who I used to be.

“C’mon P,” Arike screams, patting my butt as she jogs by. I glance to the sidelines, my eyes finding the dark haired girl standing by the team, clasping her hands and furrowing her brows. On top of everything now I was disappointing her too. 

-

“Fuck!” I scream, hitting the cubby as we walk into the dressing room. My anger had been growing exponentially the last few minutes of the first half, but the almost lazy deep three by Miles right in my face had been the cherry on top. It kept playing over and over in my head, the late hand, the way the crowd got on their feet and roared. My face is burning as I throw the towel over my head and groan.

“I need a minute,” I hiss, pushing out of the room as my team rolls in, past Satou and Lou into the tunnel. I rub the bridge of my nose vigorously, leaning my sweaty back against the cool tile of the walls. The whole room was spinning, all my frustration accumulated along the season peaking - all of it directed at Miles. I couldn’t handle having to face the fact it was my own doing. Blaming someone else was so much easier.

“Paige,” Iz sighs, the tapping of her heels echoing around the tunnel. I remain quiet, focusing on the ringing and pounding in my head.

“Paige,” she repeats, more sternly. I open my eyes to find her standing in front of me, looking serious as ever.

“God dammit,” I complain, sliding against the wall onto the floor, my legs bent at the knees as I lean my elbows against them.

“Get up, c’mon,” Izzie mumbles, pulling onto my forearm but with not much success. So instead she sits on the cold floor in front of me, her hands rubbing on my bare calves, not caring that they were dripping with sweat.

“What do I have to say to get you out of your head?” She asks, green eyes roaming my face. I could feel anger, frustration bubbling right underneath.

“I dunno,” I mumble. I felt imprisoned in my mind, stuck in a cage without a way out, locked in without a key. 

“Think!” She scoffs, pushing on my arm. My chest heaves as I take deep breaths, rummaging my mind for anything. “What did you do at UConn when you got in your head?”

I chuckle bitterly. “I didn’t have time to, Geno was too quick to get on my ass.”

Izzie looks at me, raising her brows. “Okay, and what would Geno say now?”

He would cuss me out, first of all. Telling me he’s never seen a person play this shit in his life. That I’m the worst person he’s ever coached, that I think I know better even though I don’t know anything. That I might as well stop playing and be benched for the rest of the season because it seems I don’t want it bad enough. That Miles wants it more than I do and that’s why she’s winning. That I’ve gotten lazy, weak. Acting like I don’t even care.

I feel a fire in the pit of my stomach, just a wavering flame now. But it’s reminiscent of something I felt what seemed like a long time ago. In March. The sense of urgency. It’s right there, it’s been there the entire time. I thought it was gone for good.

“Bueckers, inside,” Chris says as he enters the tunnel, pointing at the door. I don’t have the time or sense to say a word to Izzie as I help her off the ground. But before I turn she squeezes my arm encouragingly.

“Stop feeling sorry for yourself, time to wake up P. This isn’t her court, it’s yours.”

-

The gentle flame was growing, stirring within me now. Beginning of the third quarter had the crowd buzzing with newfound energy, I could feel it echoing around the court, bouncing off the walls, onto me. Time to stop feeling sorry for yourself. Remember who you are. This is my court. My team. I want this more than she does.

I’m face to face with Miles again as I bring the ball up the court, seeing Satou and Arike prepared for any play that I would run. I dribble the ball between my legs thinking for the smartest move, the game like a chess match in my head, when I realise I’ve got a checkmate right here.

I fake trying to push past Miles, who takes steps back accordingly. Before she has time to catch up to what I’m doing, I step back beyond the arc and get settled, letting the ball fly. I had done this a thousand times before. Please God, give it back to me.

Swish.

“Bueckers with a stepback three, and… It’s good!”

The crowd rises to its feet, cheering for my first made three in the last six games. I don’t celebrate, the UConn discipline still running blue in my veins. But Arike grins, tapping my butt when she runs past. I feel a wave of relief, looking up in a silent prayer of gratitude.

The jealousy and anger I felt towards Miles quickly turned to a newfound fire, making use of my aggression in defence. I’m quick, keeping up with her like a pest. She’s nearly completely locked down, having no other choice but to pass the ball over and over again. 

“Another steal for Bueckers, her third of the quarter. She is hot right now. Haven't seen her like this all season.”

I finish with an easy layup, Storm’s defense was not fast enough to catch up. Satou laughs, squeezing my shoulders.

“That’s our rookie!” She exclaims, and I finally allow myself a smile. I can tell Olivia’s getting frustrated as a timeout is called, walking to the bench looking down, rubbing her sweaty face. I’m back, baby.

“Bueckers scored 12 in that quarter alone, it’s looking up for her. If she keeps this up this might be her first 20 point game of the season. Something we’re used to seeing from Bueckers in college but have been waiting patiently for in the league.”

The fourth has her getting desperate, frustrated. I can see it in her eyes, even the way she’s moving with the ball. Hectic, messy. I hope Geno’s watching the game. He’d give me a tap on the shoulder now. I got Olivia Miles stressing.

Her desperate shot at a three is disrupted by my quick hand, hitting the board. Before I can even think about boxing anyone out, Arike is catching the rebound, eyes on me. It’s all I need to know what to do.

I run up the court, Miles right behind me. But I’m faster, catching the long pass from Arike. As I jump into the air for the fast layup, Miles’ body crashes into mine, both of us tumbling to the ground. My eyes remain on the ball, the adrenaline in my body making the collision that would surely bruise my shoulder feel like a playful poke. As the ball falls through the net for the finish, I hear a whistle. And one.

The crowd cheers, the team in the Wings jerseys running to me to help me up. I laugh on the ground as Miles curses, her teammates holding her back to cool her down. As I rise, Arike chest bumps me, screaming something I barely hear into my ear, too focused on watching Miles shake her team off, stomping to the refs to complain about the whistle.

“Fuck is you talkin’ bout!” I yell at Miles, to rile her up even further. Our eyes meet, her nostrils flared with frustration. My chest heaves and my body burns with confidence and a fire as I make my way to the freethrow line. I had finally arrived in Dallas. 

“Shot Clock off, ball with the Wings.”

I glance at the score, 78-80. I just need a two pointer, maybe a middie would be the best bet. I thread the ball between my legs, Miles right where she had been the entire game. In my face. She’s focused now, using her anger as fuel. I know there’s a better option than me to take this shot. Yeah I’d been hot, but I wasn’t reliable this season. I pass the ball to Arike, setting a screen for a three. But she won’t take it, passing the ball into the paint to Satou. Gabby got her way too locked down. I move to the weakside corner beyond the arc, as Satou draws in defence by working the paint, instead passing the ball to now open Arike. Defence follows, just a tiny bit too slow. But she won’t shoot it.

Arike glances at me, gets settled to draw in more of the defence leaving me completely open. Instead she passes the ball to me, her eyes locked onto my face. Expression full of confidence, telling me she believes in me. She could have shot the game-winning three, but she knew it was me who needed this win. Not her. Not the rest of the team. Me.

I let the ball fly, blue eyes following as it glides in the air. Olivia jumps, but just a little too late, stumbling as she hits the ground. It feels as if the arena is silent, the only sound is the pounding in my head as the ball comes down. Swish.

I’m not even sure what’s happening when my teammates crash into me, shoving and pushing on me hard enough to leave bruises. But I don’t care, a smile so wide on my face my cheeks begin to hurt. The crowd is on its feet, jumping up and down as I begin to jog around the court, like some sort of victory lap. In a way it sort of was.

My eyes find our bench, Chris smiling widely at me. But my gaze eventually lands on Izzie who’s jumping up and down, telling Trey to keep the camera on me. Her face is sparkling with pride and glee, the aggression and fire still in flames inside me. 

“Paige!” A reporter stops me, as I try to catch my breath, smiling with joy. “Paige, 27 points, 10 assists. Your first 20 point game of the season. First double-double of the season. Great game from you overall, how do you feel right now?”

I grin at the camera, squeezing my eyes shut from how wide my lips are spreading. “‘Bout time,” I laugh, wiping the sweat off my neck.

-

“Paige, where are we going?” I whisper as the blonde drags me by my wrist into the very familiar storage room. She wasn’t talking. Matter of fact she hadn’t said a word, gripping my arm tightly the second we entered the tunnel and pulling me away from everyone. Her fingertips were pressing tightly enough to leave a bruise, as she closes the door behind us, turning on the fluorescent light.

“Paige, you were unbelievable, I know you co-” but I’m interrupted by a starved, harsh kiss. Teeth colliding as she grabs my dark hair tenaciously, pulling on it to maneuver my movements. Her other hand finds the hem of my baby tee with ease, pulling it up to reveal the see through lace bra underneath. Suddenly my body turns to putty, knees trembling at the force which with the blonde is kissing me. Taking control in a way I wasn’t accustomed to. Just like she had of her game on the court.

“P-paige,” I gasp as her lips kiss sloppily around my jaw, getting saliva all over my face and neck. “You’ve got press soon,” I remind her, my voice weak and shaky, already a puddle between my thighs as the girl holds me, lips working me with ease.

“Shut up,” she says, a strange authoritative tone in her voice. I pull back, glancing up at her.

“Excuse me.”

But Paige grabs my jaw, eyeing me underneath her heavy lids in a way that makes me feel small. Not the one in control.

“Shut the fuck up Iz,” she hisses, pushing me harshly into the wall behind me. My breathing grows ragged, the blonde’s lips back on my neck, sucking desperately. The room is spinning, and I’m getting overwhelmingly wet at Paige’s newfound dominance. 

“You think you can just wear a skirt like this and I won’t fuck you? Nah, you’re a smart girl. You knew whatchu were doin’.” She murmurs into my ear, grabbing my thighs. There are chills running up and down my body, driving me wild.

“Paige,” I mumble, not sure what for as she pulls my shirt off, unbuckling my bra. My cheeks turn red, overwhelmed by the way she’s handling me.

“Need to see these tits,” she groans, pulling back to eye them. I feel a little unsure under the bright, unforgiving light but the look the blonde gets on her face quickly reassures me.

“Goddamn, you’re so sexy,” she moans and latches onto my nipple, her plump lips sucking on it. I bring my hands to her hair, but she grabs onto my wrists and pushes them against the cool wall. I gasp at her aggressiveness.

“But the lights,” I mumble, feeling my thighs burn as if on fire.

“Baby, you gotta keep your pretty mouth shut and lemme fuck you.”

Suddenly her fingertips are pushing against my thigh, forcing the denim skirt to ride up all the way to my waist. Her hand travels straight to my core, rubbing the fabric of my panties along the slit with her thumb. It’s no shock to me when the satin grows wet in a matter of seconds, my cunt already crying out for the blonde. A desperate whine leaves my mouth as I bite my lower lip, trying not to worry about the press conference that would be starting in a matter of minutes.

“Such a slut,” Paige hisses, kissing my breasts. I’m nearly offended, but for some reason her words were making me want her even more, making me more desperate. I had never been talked to like that before. I could feel my body submitting to her.

I’m too dumbfounded to answer when she spins me around with rough hands, pressing my front into the cold tile of the wall, hand gripping my hair to yank my head back. “Answer me. You’re a slut huh? Wantin’ me to fuck you so bad couldn’t even wait till we got home?”

“Paige,” my voice is breathy, trembling badly. She’s right of course, but my ego or my pride won’t allow the words to come out.

“You wanna cum ma?” She hisses, her breath hot in my ear. I nod eagerly, feeling my wetness begin to gather enough to drip down the insides of my thighs.

“Yes baby,” I cry out in a quiet voice. Paige grins in that familiar, arrogant way, chuckling smugly. It feels humiliating, which only drives me wilder for some reason.

“I can tell,” she teases, smacking my ass. It echoes around the tight storage room, surely loud enough to be heard from the outside. But neither of us care, especially when she swiftly hooks her fingers around my panties and pulls them down, letting them pool at my ankles. I feel the blonde move back, gripping the skin of my ass harshly to get a better view of my dripping cunt, glistening in the fluorescent light.

“Shit, ma,” she groans, unable to resist. Suddenly, three of her fingers slide into me, the stretch causing a jolt to run through my body.

I gasp loudly at the sudden intrusion, reaching back to grip Paige’s wrist. It was too much, way too intense for the setting, for me to remain quiet. But the blonde grabs onto my hand, pushing it away roughly. I nearly resist but then, her fingers curl inside me, against the soft tissue of my walls, and I nearly crash down. I let out a soft moan, nails scratching against the wall as she fucks me from behind with her fingers, my wetness gushing enough to be dripping down to her wrist and forearm.

“That’s it,” she praises, watching my ass jiggle each time she thrusts her fingers. “Goddamn I need to strap you.”

At this I let out a louder moan, the idea getting me even slicker. Paige chuckles, groaning to herself again.

“Yeah? You’d like that ma?”

I turn my head to glance back at her, cheek against the tile of the wall as I nod, eyes low with pleasure.

“Course you would,” she hisses, speeding up the movement of her fingers. “You act like you so sweet and classy, but I know you like to be fucked like a slut.”

I nod, eyes watering from how fast Paige’s fingers are curling inside my dripping cunt, the stretch turning from pain into something heavenly. I could feel my pussy squeezing her long digits, pulsing around them in desperation, gripping onto them as hard as it could.

“Tell me,” Paige says sternly, meeting my gaze. Her eyes are low and heavy, lips parted with want, hair falling out of her low pony, onto her face.

“Like the way you fuck me P,” I whine, embarrassed by the words. But it only riles the blonde on, as she brings her other hand to my front, reaching down to start rubbing tight, fast circles on my clit.

“Oh fuck,” I gasp, eyes rolling back as the pit in my stomach grows almost humiliatingly fast. The sound of the squelching a constant reminder of how much, no matter what I liked to pretend, Paige was the one to have control over me, instead of me over her. 

“C’mon baby, be a good girl,” she groans, pressing sloppy kisses into my neck.

“I-” I gasp, feeling the knot in my stomach tighten and tighten, on the edge of bursting. “I’m close.”

“You wanna cum?” She asks to which I nod. “Ask nicely.”

I groan, eyes rolling back. I never liked being told what to do. But the way Paige’s fingers were slipping in and out of me, hitting the perfect spot to make me drip all over her hand, was making me weak, desperate. I would do anything right now. Just to cum. The idea of that felt filthy.

“Please P, please let me cum,” I whine, mind completely blank and forgotten about the press conference, or the possibility of people outside. No, the only thing that existed was me, Paige and her heavy breathing in my ear. “Please,” I cry out, doing everything I can to hold back.

“Good girl,” she coos into my eyes, nuzzling my neck with her nose. “Come on mama, cum.”

Obediently, my body finally rolls over the edge, trembling and shaking as Paige’s hands work my cunt skillfully. I’m gasping for air, the waves of pleasure making goosebumps rise all over my skin, my nipples hardening against the tile. My eyes roll back in ecstasy as the blonde pumps her fingers harshly, eventually slowing down to let me ride it out.

We’re both breathing loudly when she finally pulls away, leaving me with a strange kind of emptiness. I dress in silence, Paige watching me closely. Once I’m all covered up, she walks over and presses a kiss on my forehead. I hum, checking my phone.

“Shit, Paige you must go,” I hurry her, unlocking the door back into the tunnels. Empty, thank God. “You’re late, everyone’s looking for you.”

“Aight, I’m going,” she sighs, about to step out when she turns back around, grabbing my face and kissing it. I kiss her back, smiling against her lips.

“Go!” I giggle, pushing her away.

“Fine!” She laughs, walking out of the room backwards, to keep watching me for as long as she possibly could.

“That was some game Bueckers,” I tell her, which only makes her smile even more as she turns around and begins to jog towards the conference.

-

“And that three at the end was insane! Dude, you were all in Olivia’s face she looked like she was going to cry honestly…” Kiran explains excitedly, hands flailing around the air as he reimagines his favourite moments of the game. I grin, leaning back in the booth and sipping my hard earned beer. Arike nods, as engaged in the conversation as the boy beside me, clapping her hands together loudly.

“Yo, when Miles got into the refs faces I thought she was gon’ get a tech for sureeee,” Rike chimes in, barely containing her grin. 

“Keep playing like that and we got rookie of the year right here,” Lou smiles, clinking the glass bottle with mine. I smile bashfully, looking around the bar a little embarrassed. It was a dingy, quiet one with low lighting, filled with people but we were definitely the loudest ones here.

“Fuck rookie of the year, how’ bout we get that ring,” Arike says confidently. I cover my face with my hand. We both knew that it would be far from our reach this year, but perhaps after a few years of playing together we could have a shot. It was bound to happen. Still, as I got to know Arike more, I learned she liked to exaggerate.

“Aight, enough,” I tell them, patting Kiran on the shoulder. “Let’s get you another drink,” I smile, waving the waitress over.

“Iz will be mad if you get me drunk,” he jokes.

I shrug, finishing my beer. “Let her, it’s your last night here.”

The waitress walks over, long braids and a sweet, Texas smile on her face as she approaches.

“What can I get y’all?” She asks. There’s a perky lilt to her voice, a glimmer in her eye that was far too familiar to me. Her brown eyes stay on mine, before looking me up and down noticeably. 

“Two beers,” I simply say, not so affected by the clear hints the girl was giving me although she was clearly gorgeous. Honestly, since I met Iz, I couldn’t even think about another girl. Who would’ve thought. College me would be flabbergasted.

“Nothin’ else for you baby?” She asks, the pet name making Kiran snicker underneath his breath. I grin in a polite way, shaking my head at the waitress. 

“Nah, thank you, we’re good.”

She nods, getting the hint. “Well, let me know if you change your mind.”

“Wow, that’s brave,” Kiran laughs as the waitress walks away. “Thinking you’re a lesbian.”

Me, Arike and Lou all turn to Kiran, raising our brows at the same time.

“Hollup,” Arike says, pointing at me. “You think this girl right here is straight?”

Suddenly Kiran’s face turns red, eyes flickering between me and the woman next to me.

“Uhh,” he mumbles. “I mean, Izzie said you’re gay but I thought that was just her joking around.”

At the same exact time, Arike and Lou burst into a choir of laughter, the corners of my mouth curling into a smile as well.

“Oh Kiran,” Lou gasps between laughs, reaching over to ruffle his hair. He had honestly become almost like a little brother only in the week he had spent with us. I knew I’d miss him once he was gone.

“W- So,” He mumbles, looking at me. “You’re gay?”

I nod, pressing my lips together in a tight smile. “Yeah, Kiran, I’m gay.”

“Ohhhh,” he says in realisation. “That makes sense then.”

“You know me and Lala ain’t just friends either?” Arike jokes, making the boy roll his eyes, much like his sister would. God I missed her, but she had to stay behind after the post game conference to schedule some content. Still, even a couple hours apart felt like torture.

“Well yes, you’ve got your hand on her ass 24/7.”

We all chuckle, as the waitress returns, holding two beer bottles in her hands.

“Thank you,” I grin, grabbing it from her. She flashes me a wide smile, before returning behind the bar.

“So why won’t you ask her out then?” Kiran asks, pointing to the pretty waitress with his bottle.

I shift nervously, rummaging my head for an excuse.

“Is she not your type?”

“Nah, it’s not that,” I quickly answer, looking at the girls beside me for any help. But both of them are looking away, pretending to be engaged in a conversation of their own. Traitors.

“Uh, just wanna focus on hoops for a bit.”

Kiran chuckles. “Well, you don’t have to look for a relationship. Why not get with her just for a shag.”

“Uhh, well,” I mumble, my face turning red. Just as Kiran begins to wave the waitress over, Izzie’s voice stops him.

“Are you drinking again?” She scolds her brother. I turn my head to find her standing behind me, arms crossed and face scrunched. I guess it had been a stressful evening for her. My heart aches, wanting nothing more than to sit her beside me, let her order anything she wanted and drive her home to take care of her, to allow her to relax. Every cell in my being wanted to serve her.

“Paige said it’s okay,” Kiran argues. Her green eyes flicker to me, making me nervous and regretful. 

“Paige,” she scoffs, everyone around us laughing at our dynamic.

“‘M sorry, it’s the beer. It’s bad for my judgement,” I whine, earning a smile from the girl. It makes me want to burst.

“You’re a constant pain my ass Paige,” she jokes, signalling for her brother to stand up so she can sit beside me. The minute I feel her bare thigh pressing into mine, my body calms down, all my muscles relaxing miraculously.

“I think you like it,” I whisper into her ear, giving her cheek a kiss. Platonic enough to seem friendly to her brother.

“So,” Kiran says, leaning forward. “Paige thinks that waitress is fit.”

Oh God. I watch as Izzie’s eyes follow where her brother is pointing, eyeing the girl before looking at me. Her gaze sharpens, entire demeanor growing tense.

“Oh,” she mutters, furrowing her dark brows. “I see.”

“No, no, that’s not what I said,” I immediately jump in, scolding Kiran. But he simply shakes his head.

“I reckon she should go ask for her number, what do you think Iz?”

The girl shifts so our sides aren’t touching anymore, crossing her arms over her chest. She’s upset, a blind man could tell. 

“I think Paige can do what she wants,” she says coldly, avoiding my gaze. Arike covers her mouth to hide her laughter.

“Kiran,” Rike hisses, trying to get him to stop. It’s no use.

“Yeah, she came over and was calling her baby and everything,” Kiran continues, my cheeks burning bright red now. 

“I see, well that’s nice,” Izzie mumbles, pulling out her phone just to slide back and forth between her home screens. “Go ahead, do it.”

“No Iz, c’mon,” I say, my hand coming to stroke her thigh gently underneath the table. But she pulls away. I couldn’t lie though, there was a part of me feeling satisfied - Izzie liked me enough to get upset over something like this.

I exhale, knowing this might be stupid move. But I couldn’t bare to have Izzie upset with me. “Kiran, I’m already sorta seeing someone,” I say hesitantly, knowing this was the only way. “She’s awesome, Ion wanna ruin it. I’m so into her.”

Izzie’s green eyes turn to me, our gazes meeting. Her face softens, and slowly she presses against my side again. I feel flutters overwhelming my chest, wanting nothing more than to kiss her right now.

“Oh, my apologies,” Kiran says understandingly, though his hazel eyes remain on me and Iz, watchful.

“Is it someone I know?” He asks.

Me and Izara stare into each other for a moment, and I can tell she’s considering, mulling it over in her head. Maybe her brother deserved to know, maybe he would even like us being together. He certainly liked me, and I liked him.

But the reality is, no one should know, and far too many people already did. As much as I wanted to show everyone she was mine, to shout it from the rooftops, I wanted to keep her here much more.

“Uh, no,” I mumble, finally breaking eye contact. Iz does the same, smiling awkwardly at her brother. Kiran nods, eyes flickering between me and his sister for a while.

“I’m kinda hungry,” Lou complains, eyes skimming the bar. “They do any food here?”

“I think so,” Izzie says, standing up in the booth to look for a menu, until she spots a pile of them stacked at the corner of the bar. “I hope they have mozzarella sticks.”

“You and your damn mozzarella sticks,” I laugh, still aware of Kiran’s hazel eyes locked on me and Iz. I ignore it, standing up with Izara and following her to the bar. She grabs the maroon menu with her slender fingers decorated with gold rings, skimming over the pages.

“They do have mozzarella sticks!” She grins. I smile at her warmly, her excitement heating up my chest. “You girls probably want some wings huh?”

“Yes ma’am,” I smile, leaning over her shoulder to read the menu from behind her. Discreetly, the girl presses her butt into my hips, ever so slightly leaning backwards to send jolts all over my body. My hands are itching to touch her, to hold her waist - in an attempt to resist I slide them into the pocket of my hoodie, keeping them restricted.

“Kiran too, and maybe some fries?” She asks. I turn around, yelling to Kiran over the chatter of the bar. 

“Yo, Kiran,” I shout. “Whatchu want?”

Izzie murmurs something, but I barely hear her, trying to make sense of what Kiran is trying to reply all the way from our booth.

“Paigeuhh!” Izzie whines, her hand reaching up and yanking on my sleeve, and then my hood, in an attempt to get my attention. But I don’t turn, because I can see Kiran’s movements stop for a millisecond, eyes suddenly widening in shock, realisation finally hitting him. It’s then I remember the story of Izara, and her childhood crush, and the pulling on the hood. Shit. Shit. Shit. Shit.

We stare at each other, frozen in time. I rummage my mind for a reason, for an excuse, for anything I could use to hide what’s been going on. But the evidence is stacked against us and for the first time, Kiran is finally realising it.

He stands up from the booth, walking briskly to me and Izzie. For a second I think he’s just going to blurt it out, chew Izzie off for not telling him. And I know she’d blame me for it, maybe even start questioning our relationship. I feel my chest aching, my breathing getting heavy.

“Oh, Ki, should we get fries?” Izara asks, oblivious to the past half a minute as her pretty green eyes skim the menu. 

“Paige, you got a sec? Can we talk?” Kiran asks, with the authoritative, stern voice of his sister. I knew they were similar, but in this moment as the boy’s face hardened, the family resemblance really came through.

“Uh, sure,” I mumble, cheeks burning up. I hand Izzie my card, tapping her on the arm as platonically as I can, now feeling bashful under Kiran’s knowing eyes. “Order whatever you want Iz.”

Me and Kiran walk around the bar, to the terrace buzzing with people, clumsy and tipsy with alcohol. It smells like dried up beer, and sunscreen as we push through to a less crowded corner, me following right behind the boy.

Finally he stops, turning around. There’s a moment he doesn’t speak, and I think he’s about to punch me. But as he exhales, a sly smile grows on his face,

“Man, I had a feeling something was up. I’ve never seen Izzie acting like that around her friends,” he chuckles, but I’m still having a hard time reading how he really feels about it. For a moment I consider just lying, pretending I don’t know what he’s talking about. But it’s too late, and I’m too tired. I want him to know.

“Kiran, I shoulda said sumn,” I murmur, rubbing the bridge of my nose.

“Nah, my sister should have,” Kiran says, sipping his beer.

“She’s just tryna protect us, we’re tryna keep it on the low y’know,” I immediately defend Izzie.

“No, I understand,” he nods, thinking for a while. “I just feel so stupid. She came out to me a few years ago, before, y’know, Jasper, but I didn’t believe her. I just thought she was one of those girls who wanted to be interesting by saying they like girls too. Never thought she’d actually… Be with a girl.”

I swallow, looking at my feet. “Is that bad? That… uh, that she’s with a girl?”

“No, not at all,” Kiran immediately stops me, making his stance on the thing clear. “She’s just been through so much, I worry about her. She always picks the wrong people.”

I chuckle, nodding. “Yeah, so I heard,” I say. “But I’m not like that. Would rather die than hurt that girl.”

He looks at me, wondering. “So is this like a thing-thing, or just something casual?”

I meet his hazel eyes. “We ain’t talk yet,” I say truthfully. “But personally? I’m pretty locked down.”

Kiran keeps watching me.

“She’s amazing, wouldn’t even dream of hurtin’ her.”

“Good, because if you do, we got trouble,” he says, and I believe him. Truthfully, it’s her who could really hurt me. Not the other way around.

“I’m countin’ on that,” I grin. After a moment of hesitation, Kiran wraps an arm around me, and hugs me just for a moment, patting my back.

“You’re a good person, I know you’ll take care of her.”

“Always gonna,” I hug him back, before pulling away.

“We shouldn’t tell her that I know, she’s going to freak out.”

I laugh. “Yeah, let’s just keep it between us, yeah?”

“Just so you know,” Kiran chuckles as we begin to head back inside. “If this ends badly I’m always siding with her.”

I laugh, finishing my beer. “Yeah, I’d side with her too.”

“Oh, you got it that bad?”

“Worse.”

-

“Passport? Charger? Wallet? Waterbottle? Did you remember to pack your jersey?” I ask as me and Kiran head towards TSA, Paige following a little behind.

“You’re acting like I didn’t make a list,” Kiran groans, earning a snicker from the blonde.

“Okay and you still forget stuff so what’s your point?”

My brother stops, grabbing my shoulders and looking at me reassuringly. “Izara, I have everything. Stop worrying. You’re being like mum.”

The truth was I wasn’t worrying about his luggage, I was worrying about him leaving. My chest ached with anxiety and dread, thinking of the moment we had to say goodbye. I loved Dallas, but my God I wanted my brother here more than anything.

“Okay,” I sigh, fully aware that it was time to say goodbye. I wanted to delay the moment, do anything to push it back just a minute more. But there was no choice, I’d have to face it sometime. Paige, noticing my anxiety, places a big hand on my shoulder and rubs. It’s a comforting and grounding presence that I’m glad to have right now.

“We’ll see each other soon, yeah?” Kiran comforts me. I nod, feeling my eyes begin to well up. Great. I hate crying in front of people.

My brother turns to Paige, smiling in a way that meant something more, but what? I couldn’t tell.

“Take care of her,” Kiran says before hugging the blonde. Paige pats his upper back, nodding as she really takes the words in, like they mean more than what’s being said.

“Always, you take care bro.”

“And come to London, Izzie will bring you.”

I scoff. “I will?”

“You must,” Kiran smiles, pulling back. “And don’t be too hard on her,” he says half jokingly, turning to me. I’m not sure what he means, but before I can ask, he’s wrapping his arms around me. I hug him back, fighting the tears threatening to spill over.

“I’ll miss you,” I simply say, wishing I could keep my brother here forever.

“I’ll miss you too Iz,” he replies, his voice softer than usual. 

“Tell mum and dad I said hi.”

“Okay.”

“And text me when you land.”

“Okay.”

“A-and when you board.”

“Iz,” he laughs, pulling back. “I’ll text you the entire way home, okay?”

I nod, exhaling heavily before letting my hands fall to my side from around him. My eyes burn, my throat feels like it’s about to close. But I don’t cry. I refuse.

“Okay, see you,” he flashes that bright, familiar smile, grabbing his carry-on and finally turning around.

“Safe travels,” I mumble, watching as he stands in the queue, waiting for his turn. Paige’s arm snakes around my waist comfortingly as I chew on my bottom lip, anxiety washing over me. I lean my head to her side, not caring about Kiran possibly noticing.

“C’mon,” Paige says carefully, “Let's go home.”

The drive is silent, as I stare out the window, trying to ignore the pain spreading over my chest and throat. It’s like Dallas knew that Kiran left, the sky a gloomy grey and the mixture of humidity and heat making it overbearing and sticky. There’s a storm brewing. You could feel it. The air shifts, the wind picks up.

Paige walks me to my door, leaning against the frame as I take off my shoes.

“You okay mama?” The blonde asks, watching me closely. The moment she does, I burst into tears, finally getting relief from the burning of my eyes. Without hesitating for a second, Paige steps in and wraps me in her arms, like a cocoon of comfort, closing the door behind her.

“Hey,” she comforts, holding me tightly and kissing the top of my head. “Shh, you’re okay Iz.”

She scoops me in her arms, like I’m the lightest person in the world. I cling to her, holding onto her hood as she’s walking me to my couch and placing me down as carefully as she could. Before I can even notice she’s brought me snacks, water, tissues and there’s a movie on, though I’m barely watching, my eyes wet and red with tears.

“I hate goodbyes,” I sniffle.

“I know,” Paige mumbles softly, wiping a tear from my soft cheek, her fingertips cold against my skin.

“Thanks for staying.”

Paige scoots herself between me and the corner of the couch, letting me sit in her lap while she holds me all evening, simply letting me cry. Not trying to distract me, or make me feel bad. She simply lets me feel it all, making me feel safe to do so for the first time in years.

-

My arm grows tingly and numb, but I’m too afraid to move it in case it might disturb the sleeping girl. Izzie’s eyes are closed, long lashes pressed against her cheeks as she breathes heavily in her slumber. Her face is puffy and red from crying, lips uncharacteristically chapped from all the biting. I kiss her forehead gently, pulling my arm from under her as carefully as I possibly could.

I stop as she stirs, but quickly becomes motionless again, giving me a chance to escape just for a moment. I climb over the corner of the couch, fixing the blanket over the girl. It felt special to know she felt comfortable enough to be this vulnerable with me. I knew it wasn’t easy for her. Yet she still lets me take care of her like this. Not Trey, not Jasper, me.

I take light steps into her bedroom, rummaging my brain for any sort of chapstick she might have. I check her purse, but there’s nothing. No sign of chapstick. Frustrated, I begin to go through the drawers of her nightstand, finally getting to the bottom one. I kneel over it, moving piles of neatly organised papers out of the way when I see it.

Together with their parents, Jasper Hughes and Izara Chopra  request the honor of your presence at their wedding on June 20th 2025 at one o’clock in the afternoon Syon Park Brent Lea, Brentford Reception immediately after Black tie required

The words are printed on a thick, cream coloured paper that feels silky to the touch, heavy in my hands. It’s clean, timeless - the calligraphy gold-embellished and elegant against a backdrop of soft ivory, a silk ribbon carelessly left open around it. My blue eyes read it again and again before I take it in. A wedding. Izara’s wedding. Izzie’s and Jasper’s. Wedding. A wedding I had never heard about. A past kept hidden from me, for a reason I didn’t want to find out.

I drop the invite back into the drawer, crashing down onto the ground, frustration growing within me. My chest heaves and feels tight, like I might be sick. Why would she have kept this from me? She was engaged? The room feels like closing in, my eyes burning hot all of a sudden.

I feel like a joke, checking the date on my phone. June 20th. Kiran had come here to be with her so she could make it through this time. And here I was comforting her, over something I thought was completely different thinking we were something more. I felt like a fool, like an idiot. Just a rebound to someone who had been getting married. Fucking married. Without telling me. I thought we told each other everything.

-

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[amomentsescape]

Slashers x reader with wings. Reader's wings are bound, hidden and look heavily damaged from that.

How do the slashers find out? How do they react?

Add the crow guy, Eric, I think?

Slashers with Winged! Reader

Slashers x Reader (Separate)

Includes: Freddy, Michael, Jason, Thomas, Bubba, Brahms, Norman, Billy, Stu, Vincent, Bo, & Eric

A/N: I am once again sleep deprived, so I apologize if there are any typos or nonsense that I didn't catch reading through this. Thank you for your request!

Freddy Krueger

As mentioned in many previous posts, you can't really hide anything from Freddy

Whenever you sleep, you're in his territory, and he can do whatever he pleases

And one of the last things he'll ever let you do is hide yourself from him

He could see the damage from all the years of hiding your wings, binding them up in hopes no one would notice

And this honestly pisses him off a bit

Why would you ever want to be like everyone else?

Your wings were beautiful, and they made you that much more special

The moment he sees your wings free, you better believe he'll never let you hide them again

Anyone who even gives you the slightest look will be dealt with that same night

Michael Myers

Another one that you can't really hide anything from

He may let you think that he doesn't know about your wings

But in reality, he's known about them this whole time

However, he won't push you to reveal yourself to him until you're ready

It's not like it's a huge deal to him anyways

He's neutral about the whole situation

Wings or no wings, nothing will sway his opinion on you

Just don't wait too long to talk to him about it though

The more time that passes, the more irritated he'll become

Because after this much time together, you have to fully trust him now

Right?

Jason Voorhees

Jason is pretty much clueless from the start

It's not that he isn't observant to you (he watches you 24/7)

It's just that he fully respects your boundaries and won't even hold your hand unless you tell him he can

So when he accidentally walked in on you one day and saw your damaged wings, he just stands there in shock

He snaps out of it when he notices your bashful and worried face however

He's just so confused on why you would hide this from him

He thinks your wings suit you perfectly

In fact, it makes him feel even more assured that you two are meant for each other

He also grew up wanting to hide a part of himself

But having each other means fully embracing the insecurities of the other

He doesn't ever want you to hide your wings from him again

Thomas Hewitt

He honestly would have never even knew about them if it wasn't for his need for late night affection

He just wanted to cuddle up next to you in the middle of the night

But he was met with something out of place on your back

He couldn't help but peek, and the moment he did, he was stunned

But did he even think about running?

No. He just decided to wait until morning to talk to you about it

When he asked you, he could tell you were uncomfortable

And because of this, he did everything he could to reassure you that he wasn't upset or grossed out by your wings

He loves them!

He took them in his hands gently and carefully removed the bindings

There will be no more hiding from him after that

And he'll happily caress your wings every night until you feel reassured

Bubba Sawyer

Bubba didn't mean to walk in on you like this

But the moment he sees the wings, all decency goes out the door

He stumbles in further, his hands reaching out to them

They're breathtaking... but why are they so damaged?

It physically hurts him to see you in any type of pain, and yet you've been carrying this around with you this whole time?

He's a bit hurt you didn't feel comfortable talking to him about this, but he's even more hurt by the fact that they look painful to you

He doesn't even let you protest before he's breaking the ties and freeing the wings

He's blubbering to you, making you promise to never hurt yourself like this, especially when it's something so cool

He spends the next few days playing with your wings, admiring them like a kid with a new toy

Brahms Heelshire

The day he finds out about your wings is one of betrayal

Brahms refuses to let you keep secrets from him, and hiding such a big thing from him upsets him greatly

How can he trust you?

You’ll need to give him some time to cool down, but once he does, he’ll be on you

Will force you to free your wings so he can play with them

It honestly hurts him a bit to see the destruction brought to them

He empathizes with you a bit

He has also spent a good portion of his life hiding a part of himself

But it’s because of this experience that he refuses to let you do the same any longer

You’re with him now anyways

He’ll never let you leave the house

So there will never be another soul to judge this part of you ever again

Norman Bates

He’s kind of speculated for a bit that you were hiding something

He didn’t know exactly what, he just could feel it in his gut

This insecurity was beginning to eat away at him until the day he finally saw the truth

It would be a lie to say that he wasn’t a bit scared at first

Angels have wings, but so did the devil

But seeing your pained expression reassured Norman that you were far from something evil

Once he let everything soak in, he’ll be all over you asking questions

He wants to know everything about you and your wings

He doesn’t want you to hide them anymore, and he’ll take the time each night to clean them and help heal them from years of damage

These are a part of you, and he loves everything about you

Billy Loomis

Billy doesn't really speculate anything

He's confident that he would be able to tell if you were keeping anything from him

Until the night he sneaks in through your window in hopes of surprising you

But instead, he's the one with the surprise

He sees you looking sadly at yourself through the bathroom mirror, your damaged wings on full display

He spends the next few days going radio silent towards you

But on the fourth day, he storms your room and interrogates you on your wings

Why the hell would you lie to him?

He doesn't care that you have something that makes you "different"

He's simply hurt that you kept it from him

However, it only takes an open conversation for him to calm down

He's still a little pissy but happy to know the truth

Just don't keep anything from him again

Stu Macher

This boy is absolutely clueless

But his unconditional, completely suffocating affection is what finally makes you feel comfortable to open up to him

And when you do, his eyes widen and his jaw drops

You almost think he's going to be upset until he speaks

"That's fucking sick"

Has you unbind them immediately with the promise that you won't keep them hidden away like that anymore

He constantly reassures you that anyone who sees them will have the same reaction as him

There are thousands of people that would kill to have wings like yours

Stu included

So don't ever hide something that literally makes you so unique

He loves them

Vincent Sinclair

You honestly told him about your wings right away

It was after a deep conversation about his own insecurities over his appearance and scars

He showed you his face, and you showed him your wings

It was a raw moment of vulnerability between you two, and all it did was strengthen your bond

After that night, you rarely saw him wear that mask, and he refused to let you tied up your wings like that again

He wants to love the real you

And any part you hide from him is a part of you that he can't love freely

He thinks your wings are beautiful, and you become even more of a inspiration for his art

You are quite literally an angel in his eyes, and he won't ever take advantage of that

Bo Sinclair

He was being flirty and touchy, as Bo does

And the moment he felt your back, he was throwing questions at you left and right

There was no lying or hiding the truth from him any longer

Bo hates secrets

So when you fully reveal yourself to him, he's shocked

He doesn't really know what to say at first

He didn't think something like this was possible

But after finally accepting the reality of the situation, he angrily begins tearing off your bindings

How dare you hurt yourself like this? How could you willingly lie to him after all this time?

He's a good mixture of disbelieving and pissed at you

It'll take a couple days to fully understand the situation

But once he does, it's smooth sailing

Eric Draven

Eric is all-knowing

And he knows that you're keeping something from him

But unlike a lot of the others, he's not upset or angry about it

You'll tell him when you're ready, and he trusts you enough to know it isn't anything terrible

And once you do open up about it, he's in absolute awe

His companion is a crow for goodness sake

To think he was ever going to react in any way other than admiration would have been stupid

He does get a bit emotional seeing your wings all tied up and damaged however

He's gentle with you as he sets them free

To see that pain you put yourself through really upsets him

He doesn't ever want you to do something like that again, especially when he sees this as a true gift

He'll spend the rest of the night cleaning and taking care of them, lulling you to sleep