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certaimromance · 3 days ago

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𝜗𝜚 The Girl Next Door.

Spencer Reid x Neighbor!reader

series masterlist

Summary: If Spencer thought being secretly in love with you was hard, having to avoid you in the hallway was even worse.

Words: 4,8k.

Warnings & Tags: this is part of a series, check the masterlist to make sure you are in the correct chapter. mention of jail. painter!reader. post prison reid. spencer’s pov. lack of communication. the reader has a cat. angst, so much angst. english isn't my first language (sorry for my mistakes, be kind please).

Note: I struggled a lot writing this because it's a roller coaster, so sorry in advance.

“How long? It's not a problem to take care of everything, but I'd like to know if you'll be okay or—” Your voice almost cracked for a moment, your eyes still trying to adjust to the sunlight streaming in through the bedroom window. Spencer's sheets were still wrapped around your body, and you felt so connected to them that the thought of getting up while still watching him toss and turn looking for his shoes was too much.

“I don't think more than a day or two, I'll be fine.” He stopped his chaotic steps for a second and stared at you as if to make a promise. He paused, glancing away as if to compose himself before adding, “I have some work in Mexico. It came up last minute, or I’d have told you earlier.” His voice faltered, almost imperceptibly, and the words sounded rehearsed, like he was repeating something he’d practiced.

You frowned slightly, confusion flickering across your face. “Work in Mexico?” you echoed. “Since when do they send you out of the country for cases?”

“It’s not that kind of work,” he said quickly, his tone just a little too smooth, a little too practiced. “It’s…consulting. A conference on forensic advancements, some behavioral workshops—things like that.” He kept his gaze on the floor as he spoke, as if afraid to meet your eyes. “I won’t be gone long.”

You didn’t question him further. Why would you? Spencer wasn’t the type to lie, and the way his brows knit together, the way his voice softened with the promise, “I’ll be back soon,” made you believe him. But something about the way he shifted his weight, the way he avoided looking directly at you, left a faint unease in your chest.

“I’m sorry I couldn’t have dinner with you yesterday. And breakfast now. I’ll make it up to you when I get back,” he added, his words tumbling out in a rush, as if trying to fill the silence.

You tightened the sheets around yourself, curling into their warmth, feeling the lingering heat from the side of the bed where he had been only moments before. It felt like he had never really left, the space around you still filled with the faint echo of his presence. Watching him now, his movements a little frantic, his gaze flickering toward the clock every so often, made you feel like he was slipping away too quickly. A part of you, small and selfish, wanted to ask him to stay. To sit back down, to let the world and his trip wait just a little longer.

But the words wouldn’t come. Instead, you whispered, barely above a breath, as if afraid to disturb the fragile moment, “Promise?”

Spencer’s gaze softened even further, a tenderness washing over his features as he moved closer to you. His lips curled into a faint smile, one that didn’t quite touch his eyes but was filled with something that made your chest tighten. “Promise,” he replied, his voice firm but gentle, as though sealing a pact between the two of you. He leaned down, his warm breath brushing your forehead before his lips followed, pressing a soft, lingering kiss against your skin. The kiss was tender, quiet, and almost reluctant, as though he didn’t want to pull away from this moment either. For a moment, his forehead rested against yours, the space between you vanishing entirely. It felt like the world had narrowed to just this—just the two of you—and all the invisible lines you had drawn between friendship and something more blurred into nothing.

But before you could do something stupid, he pulled back, with his eyes lingering on you, still filled with a softness that made your heart flutter. “Have you seen my shoe?” he asked, his voice playful yet tinged with the usual frustration of his misplaced belongings.

You let out a small laugh, still wrapped in the sheets, the warmth from them mingling with the warmth of the moment. “Oh, you’re a mess, little boy,” you teased, your voice light and affectionate, the fondness for him slipping out in every word.

“Mittens take it again?” Spencer asked, his eyes glinting with playful exasperation. He had grown accustomed to your cat’s antics, and he could hardly be surprised at this point.

You nodded, grinning as you pointed to the underside of the bed. “Ding ding, genius,” you replied, your voice light and teasing as his gaze followed your finger. Sure enough, there it was, tucked under the bed—another casualty of your mischievous cat’s nightly adventures.

He grumbled good-naturedly, but a soft smile tugged at the corner of his lips, as if the chaos of the morning didn't matter when you were here with him and everything felt so domestic. As he bent down to pick up his shoe, you couldn't help but watch, your heart swelling at the sight of the man you were so in love with, even in his messiest moments. There was something about him—something in that moment—that made him feel so good, as if everything else could wait and the obvious fact that he didn't feel the same way about you didn't matter. Anyone outside the room generally didn't matter. For now, it was just the two of you, tangled in sheets and laughter, clinging to a piece of time that was all yours and would be the only thing you'd have left when he was gone.

“She loves you, that’s why she does it…I guess she wants your attention,” you said, your voice trailing off, and the taste of the words felt sour in your mouth. It sounded too much like you were talking about yourself rather than your pet, and the realization hit you like a cold wave. It made your chest tighten in a way you couldn’t explain, and you immediately wished you could take the words back. But you didn’t.

He glanced at you, a thoughtful expression crossing his features. “I read something about that,” he said, his voice light, but you could tell he didn’t entirely understand the weight behind your words. It didn’t matter. You were used to it by now.

“You read about everything.” You gave him a small, rueful smile, but it didn’t quite reach your eyes, the bitterness of the moment creeping into your voice. You were fine with it, you told yourself. Fine with everything.

He glanced at the clock, a quiet sigh escaping him. “I have to go…it’s late,” he said, and you could hear the quiet resignation in his voice. The moment, it seemed, had reached its inevitable end.

“Okay.” The word slipped out of your mouth more dryly than you intended, and you hated the way it sounded. You didn’t want him to leave. You didn’t want the moment to end. But it was already slipping away, and you knew it. “But before you go…come here.”

He hesitated, looking at you with uncertainty in his eyes. But then, slowly, he took a step toward you, his face softening when you reached out to touch his cheek. The moment your fingers brushed against his skin, he shivered, and your heart skipped a beat at the contact.

“Is…is something wrong?” he asked, his voice softer now, as if sensing the shift between you.

“No, I just want to say goodbye properly.” You shifted closer, your heart hammering as you moved toward him, your lips hovering near his. The temptation to close the distance, to kiss him, burned inside you. But you didn’t. You couldn’t.

“Take care and come back,” you whispered, the words carrying more weight than you meant. You kissed his forehead gently, your fingers instinctively smoothing his hair down as you did. “Now it’s like you have my blessing,” you added with a faint smile.

He smiled at you, the warmth in his expression a bittersweet thing that made your heart ache. “Thank you, and good luck tomorrow with my godchildren’s.” His voice was soft, but the moment was already passing, slipping away, and with it, the space between you both. He gathered his things, gave you one last lingering look, and then turned toward the door.

You stood there, watching him go, the weight of what you didn’t say crashing down on you. The door clicked shut behind him, and you felt a hollow ache in your chest, a longing you couldn’t quite name.

God, you really wanted kissed him.

God, he really wanted you kissed him.

When Spencer opened his eyes for the first time in a cell and felt a sickening jolt of disorientation. The dirty walls and a rickety bench stared back at him, mocking the comforting image of his organized room and, more painfully, the thought of you. The absence of your laughter, your touch, your presence—everything that had once grounded him—hit him like a freight train. He knew something was wrong.

As the days blurred together and the evidence piled against him, he clung to the belief that this nightmare wasn’t real. Every hearing, every damning piece of evidence that chipped away at his freedom, felt surreal. Even when the judge handed down his sentence, condemning him to months behind bars, the finality of it didn’t register. What shattered him was the moment he filled out his visitation schedule and consciously omitted your name. He hadn’t wanted you to see him like that. He didn’t ask anyone to explain, didn’t try to soften the blow of his absence. That, he thought, was the point of no return—the moment he lost everything.

But Spencer was so wrong. The true breaking point came when he walked out of that hellhole, finally free, and climbed the stairs to his apartment. Each step was a physical ache, the pain in his chest sharper and heavier with every step. His hands trembled as he reached for his keys, the jangling sound unnervingly loud in the empty hallway. His gaze fell on your door, just a few steps away. The familiar sight sent his stomach into knots.

For the first time, he wished you wouldn’t be there.

The thought was alien, unnatural. You had always been there, and he had always wanted you there. When he was too drained to cook, you’d suggest their usual coffee spot, your smile lighting up the grayest of mornings. When his back ached from long nights bent over case files, you’d massage his shoulders, insisting scented candles could fix his bad posture and his bad days. When his mother’s health took a downturn, and he felt his world crumbling, you’d hold him, stroke his back, and promise that everything would be okay. And when his social battery was drained at reunions, you’d step in with your bad jokes or your art facts, making the world feel manageable again.

Now, standing in front of his own door, his fingers clumsy with the lock, all he could hope for was silence. He didn’t know how to face you, didn’t know if he could explain the broken pieces of himself.

His door creaked open, and he was greeted by the familiar scent of the home he had only dreamed of for the last while. It was overwhelming: clean clothes, slightly sweet candles, and something undeniably yours. The apartment was exactly as he remembered it, as if time had stopped the moment he left three months ago and never returned until now. His heart shrank as he took it all in: the blanket you insisted on leaving on the couch, the pile of books you always meant to return to his library but never did, his fish swimming around as if nothing had happened, and even the plants by the window, thriving despite his absence because you had surely watered them without fail.

And then there were the little details, things that told him that you had not moved away from this place, from him. The plate you always left for his cup of coffee, the one you gave him last Christmas, was still on the counter. His favorite cardigan, the one he thought he had misplaced, was folded neatly on the back of the chair and smelled of the baby softener you liked to use. His books were exactly where he had left them, although one of them had a bookmark you had made, a telltale sign that he had read it and was waiting for him to come back to comment on it, as you always did.

But he hadn’t returned.

Not then. And maybe not now at all.

Suddenly, the phone in his pocket rang, its shrill tone slicing through the heavy silence like a sharp reminder of reality. The vibration against his skin startled him, his body tensing as he pulled the device out. His gaze flickered down to the screen, and the name that appeared caused a knot to form in his stomach: JJ. His thumb hovered over the screen, his mind racing, unsure if he was ready for the conversation he knew would follow. But deep down, he knew there was no avoiding her. Jennifer wouldn’t let him slip away unnoticed, and if he didn’t answer, she might show up at his door, demanding answers he wasn’t sure he had.

With a resigned sigh, he swiped the screen and lifted the phone to his ear. “Is everything okay?”

The concern in his own voice surprised him. Maybe it was instinct, or maybe he was just desperate to shift the focus away from himself.

“Everything’s fine,” JJ replied, her voice steady but laced with something deeper. “I just wanted to check in. You’ve been…quiet.”

He exhaled slowly, staring out the window, the city lights stretching before him and the memories cutting deep. “Yeah,” he said, his voice low. “Just trying to catch up on things. All good here.”

“Okay,” she said softly, and there was a pause—a hesitation that made his pulse quicken. He could almost hear her thinking, weighing her next words. Then she cleared her throat, the sound small but deliberate. “Have you seen…her?”

The question hit him like a physical blow, stealing the air from his lungs. He turned away from the window abruptly, pacing the length of the apartment as if motion could somehow ease the tension coiling tighter and tighter in his chest. “No,” he said quickly, too quickly. His jaw clenched, the words tumbling out before he could stop them. “I don’t know if I want to.”

The lie tasted bitter on his tongue, and he wasn’t sure if he believed it himself. How could he say that when every thought of you still made his heart ache? When the idea of you haunted him, so vivid and constant it felt like you were in every shadow of his empty apartment?

Jennifer’s sigh crackled over the line, heavy and filled with the weight of unspoken truths. “She’s been asking about you,” she said softly, her voice tinged with that unshakable sadness she tried so hard to hide. “Every time I see her. I think…” She hesitated again, and Spencer could hear her swallow hard, choosing her next words carefully. “I think you owe her an explanation.”

He swallowed saliva and tightened his fingers around the phone. JJ was right, of course. She always had been. But the idea of facing you, of trying to explain everything without drowning in tears, seemed impossible. How could he tell you the truth? How could he look you in the eye and admit that he had spent the last three months in jail, paying for a crime he had not committed? That he had done things that he deeply regretted, that made him sick and a horrible person?

You deserved better. You always had.

You were a blessing to anyone who had you around, and he knew that better than anyone. That's why he recommended you as a babysitter for JJ's kids, that's why he insisted that you come out to the bar with him and the team several times, that's why he told his mother about you, and that's why he gave you unlimited access to every single part of his life and told you things he'd never told anyone else. You were the one he thought of during those long, sleepless nights behind bars when JJ brought drawings from her boys. He imagined you there with them, sitting cross-legged on the floor, helping Henry with his homework or letting Michael pile blocks on your lap. It was silly—heartbreaking, even—but the thought of you, of your warmth and your kindness, had kept him going.

“I have to go…clean some things,” he murmured, his voice barely above a whisper, so desperate to run away from the topic.

“Okay,” JJ replied softly, her voice tinged with sadness. “Tell me if you need anything.”

Before Spencer could find the strength to speak, the line fell silent. The hum of the apartment filled the space around him, oppressive in its quiet, and he stood there, phone still clenched in his hand. The weight of it, the weight of everything, settled deeper into his chest, making it hard to breathe. He stared at the counter as if it could offer him some sort of escape from the quiet agony that had overtaken him. With a long exhale, he dropped the phone, his fingers lingering on it for a second longer than necessary, before pulling away with a heavy sense of finality.

Just as he was about to move, his mind already drowning in the whirlpool of thoughts he was so desperate to escape, a soft, muted thud broke the oppressive stillness of the apartment. The noise was faint, almost imperceptible, but in the suffocating quiet, it reverberated like a crack of thunder. His breath caught, his heart skipping a beat as his body went rigid. Slowly, he turned his head toward the source of the sound, his eyes locking onto the open balcony door.

A sleek black shape emerged from the shadows, moving with a practiced elegance that seemed almost ethereal in the dim light. Mittens.

“Hey,” he murmured, his voice breaking on the single syllable, hoarse and unsteady as if even addressing his might shatter the fragile thread of control he was clinging to.

The cat paused for a moment, her head tilting slightly as if considering him, her eyes gleaming in the dim light. Then, without a second thought, she padded over, her steps confident and unhurried, the soft click of her claws against the floor the only sound in the room. She jumped lightly onto the couch, then onto the small table beside him, her movements fluid and practiced. As she reached him, Mittens sniffed his hand delicately, then nuzzled it gently, her warm, soft fur brushing against his fingertips. The familiar rumble of her purring filled the air, a soothing, almost hypnotic sound that cut through the tension and wrapped around him like a blanket.

Spencer let out a shaky breath he hadn’t realized he’d been holding. “I didn’t think I’d see you again,” he whispered, his voice barely audible in the quiet of the apartment. He hesitated, his fingers brushing the soft fur of her head, unable to stop himself from reaching out.

Mittens leaned into his touch, her purr intensifying as her little body pressed against his hand, seeking warmth, some affection. She didn't care about the months she hadn't seen him or just heard his name spoken a thousand times by you. To her, he was still Spencer, the same one who had fed her, played with her, and cared for her whenever he could. That was enough. She was very happy.

“You still remember me,” he murmured, a faint, fragile smile tugging at the corners of his lips. It was the first time he’d smiled in what felt like an eternity.

The cat blinked up at him, her green eyes half-lidded with contentment, as if to say, Of course I do.

For a long moment, he just stood there, his hand resting on her soft fur, letting her purring fill the empty spaces inside him. It was such a small thing, her presence, but it reminded him of you—of the life he’d left behind, the warmth he hadn’t realized he’d needed so desperately until now.

But the calm didn’t last, and Spencer’s heart nearly stopped when he heard a soft knock on the door. His gaze snapped up from the cat, who was now lazily sprawled across the arm of the couch, her purring uninterrupted. The knock came again, this time paired with a voice that sent a jolt through his chest.

“Mittens?”

The voice was muffled through the door, but he knew it instantly. It was you.

Another knock followed, gentle but insistent. “Are you here, baby?”

He froze, every muscle in his body tightening as he registered the sound of your voice. You were here, in his apartment—or at least on the threshold of it. The thought was both thrilling and terrifying. He wasn’t ready for this. He wasn’t ready to see you again.

The cat, oblivious to the tension that suddenly filled the room, stretched lazily before hopping down from the couch. Her tail flicked behind her as she padded toward the door, her movements casual, as if she belonged here. Her eyes were fixed on you as you stepped through the open door, your figure partially silhouetted by the light from the outside.

“There you are,” you said softly, your voice brimming with relief. The warmth in your tone hit him like a physical blow, and he had to bite down hard on the inside of his cheek to stifle the sound threatening to escape.

You crouched down to scoop the cat into your arms, your movements gentle and practiced. “You scared me,” you murmured, cradling her against your chest. Your voice softened, carrying that familiar tenderness he’d missed so desperately. “You’ve been running off so much lately.”

Spencer pressed himself against the shadowed wall, willing himself to disappear. He couldn’t breathe, couldn’t move, couldn’t even look at you for fear his body might betray him. The apartment was dark enough to hide him, but he knew the signs of his presence were everywhere—his phone abandoned on the counter, the faint indentation on the couch, the way the air seemed to shift with the weight of him being there.

You didn’t notice. Your focus was entirely on Mittens as you stroked her soft fur, your touch so gentle it made Spencer ache. “I know you miss him,” you murmured, the words falling from your lips so quietly they almost didn’t reach him. “I do too.”

The confession tore through him like a blade, sharp and unrelenting. His chest tightened, and he bit down hard on his lip, tasting the faint metallic tang of blood. Tears burned in his eyes, but he refused to let them fall.

You lingered for a moment, your gaze sweeping over the apartment as if you could feel his presence, even if you didn’t see him. Then, with a soft sigh, you turned back toward the door.

“Let’s go home, baby,” you whispered, pressing a kiss to the top of Mittens’ head before stepping into the night.

The door closed with a quiet click, and Spencer was left alone once more. His knees buckled, and he sank onto the couch, his hand trembling as it pressed against his face. The silence was deafening, a hollow, aching void that swallowed him whole.

Maybe it was for the best. Maybe fate didn’t want you to see him again—at least, not yet.

But then, the next morning, it happened.

You were returning to your apartment, groceries in hand, when you saw him.

He was standing at the end of the hallway with his back to you, as if he was leaving his apartment. As soon as you saw him, your heart skipped a beat and all your rational thoughts vanished. It seemed like an eternity since you had seen him, even though it had only been a few months. Your first instinct was to run to him, throw yourself into his arms, and demand an explanation, but something about his posture made you hesitate. He was stiff, distant, almost sad. His usual warmth was nowhere to be seen. And yet there was something different about him: his long hair, now a bit wilder and more unruly, framed his face in a way you had never seen before. Some curls fell over his eyes, and his beard had grown thicker and darker. The change in his appearance was shocking.

Without thinking, you dropped your groceries at your door and hurried toward him. “Spencer!” you called, your voice trembling with a rush of emotions you had bottled up for months.

He turned slowly, and for a split second, his eyes locked with yours. There was something in his gaze—a flicker of recognition, maybe guilt, but it quickly faded, replaced by a cool distance you had never seen in him before, at least not with you. Before you could stop yourself, you reached out and pulled him into a tight hug. It was instinct, more than anything, to wrap your arms around him like you always used to do. The warmth of his body felt like home, like everything you had missed was right there in your arms. You held on tightly, breathing him in as if this would somehow make up for the absence. You’d been so lonely without him, and this, just holding him again, felt like it would fix everything that has been wrong lately.

But to your surprise, Spencer didn’t move an inch. This time his body was rigid, unyielding, as if he didn’t feel you or want you around. He did not return your hug. He didn’t even seem to acknowledge it or really want it. His arms remained stiff at his sides, and you could feel his breath hitching against your neck, but he didn’t respond. It was like hugging a stranger, someone you once knew but no longer recognized.

“God, I missed you…” You pulled back slightly, looking up at him, trying to gauge his expression, but his face was unreadable. His long hair now brushed against the collar of his shirt, the unruly beard framing his jawline. But his eyes were the only thing that stayed the same—cold and distant, void of the tenderness they once held. “Are you okay?”

He didn’t answer immediately. The silence hung between you, thick and oppressive, before he finally spoke, his voice flat. “Sorry, I…I don’t think I’m the best person for that right now.”

Your heart sank, the warmth of the hug and reunion evaporating into a hollow chill. “What happened?” you whispered, feeling the pain creep into your voice. “Where have you been? Why didn’t you say anything? I was so worried for you and JJ don’t say so much.”

He didn’t smile. He didn’t even look like Spencer, not the one you had known—kind, warm, and always ready to offer comfort. His face was hard, closed off, and distant. He seemed…different, almost cold. “I’m sorry, I needed to get to…work,” he said, his voice clipped and curt. “I didn’t think you’d be awake at this hour.”

You felt a pang of confusion and hurt at his words. “What do you mean? You didn’t want to see me? You haven’t been here in months,” you said, the bitterness creeping into your voice. “You just disappear, and then you show up here, like nothing happened? You sleep here? I came to your apartment last night, and you weren’t there.”

He didn’t react. No apology, no acknowledgment of the pain he’d caused. He just stood there, cold, distant. “I’m sorry,” he said, the words almost sounding like an afterthought. “I had work to do. It’s…complicated.”

“Complicated?” The word tasted bitter on your tongue. “That’s all you’ve got after disappearing for three months?”

Finally, his eyes met yours again, but there was no warmth in them. No tenderness, no familiarity. His gaze was hard, as cold as his words. “I don’t owe you an explanation,” he said sharply, his tone final, cutting through the air like a knife.

It felt like a punch to the gut. The warmth that had once filled your heart whenever Spencer entered a room, the gentle care he had shown you, was now replaced by something colder. It was as if the person you had known—the person who had been your friend, your confidant—had vanished along with the man who used to leave you sweet notes and show up with your favorite food after a rough day.

“You…you don’t owe me anything?” you whispered, your heart breaking with each word.

The silence stretched between you again, suffocating. When he spoke, his voice was quiet, almost hesitant. “I’m sorry.”

But it was hollow, empty. A formality. Not an apology that meant anything.

And then, just as quickly as he had appeared, he turned, walking away. “I have to go,” he said, his voice softer now, but still detached.

Before you could say anything else, he turned, leaving as quickly as he had appeared. And just like that, he was gone again—leaving you alone with the deafening silence and a heart full of questions.

Just like your worst fear: Spencer was avoiding you in the hallway.

#criminal minds #criminal minds fanfiction #criminal minds x reader #spencer reid #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x fem!reader #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid x fanfiction #spencer reid x you #spencer reid angst #matthew gray gubler

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gothicfied · 7 hours ago

Note

can you write a squid game fic or head cannons of other characters finding out the reader is struggling with self harm? If so, thank you and I understand it is a sensitive topics and may be uncomfortable to write.

Squid Game season 2 characters x reader who struggles with sh

Featuring: Thanos / Player 230, Se-mi / Player 380, Cho Hyun-ju / Player 120, Nam-gyu / Player 124, Kang Dae-ho / Player 388, Park Min-su / Player 125, Kim Jun-hee / Player 222

(Trigger) Warnings: Mention/Talk about sh, depression, and things of this nature, this is comfort/angst, not proof read (english isn't my first language)

Summary: Basically what the ask says

A/N: hey! I hope this is what you imagined, sorry if some of these are ooc😞🙏

Thanos / Player 230

જ⁀➴ Before he really knew, he'd constantly make your life a living hell, basically making fun of your shyness. He'd make certain comments to which he knew you wouldn't react to or would try to persuade you to vote in favor of the game containing.

જ⁀➴ You'd constantly tell him off and to leave you alone. It didn't really help, though. Thanos would just sit down next to you and talk your ear off about what he wanted to do with that prize money.

જ⁀➴ When you stood up to leave, rollung your eyes at him, he grabbed you by your wrist.

"Hey, where do you think you're going?" Thanos blurted out, giving you an offended glare. "You know, it's really rude to just leave a conversation like that." When you tried to get out of his grip, your sleeves rode up your arm, revealing scars you weren't proud of or wanted him to see. When you realized it, he did too, immediately letting go of you.

જ⁀➴ Since Thanos knew what it meant to struggle with mental health he did actually leave you alone for now. But, after the next game, he approached you again and sat down next to you. "I'm sorry about yesterday." he said, patting you on the back.

જ⁀➴ He related to you in a way, but didn't want to ask you about what went on in your private life. Now you just appreciated that he seemingly didn't overstep any boundaries anymore and even checked up from you every now and then.

Se-mi / Player 380

જ⁀➴ You and her had been a duo ever since she came up to you and complimented your looks. Even if you denied it or not, she'd repeat it multiple times, winning you over with her charm quickly.

જ⁀➴ You two had the same mindset on a lot of things, originally voting 'O', thinking you were able to survive one more lousy game. That game was a death scare. Nothing about it was funny anymore. You appreciated your life too much these days to die like this.

જ⁀➴ When the second favor didn't go your way, both Se-mi and you now voting 'X', you felt helpless. One night, the two of you were sitting on her bed, just talking about your past and how you got to this point in the first place. While Se-mi was more secluded, only telling you that 'there are so much worse things she had to face when she got out' you trusted her enough to tell her about a sensitive time in your life.

"I'm not really secretive about this anymore," you pushed your sleeves up, revealing faded scars along your forearm, "but yeah. It was all pretty fucked up. The whole debt thing didn't make it any better." Se-mi looked at you with raised eyebrows, her fingers tracing the lines on your wrists. "I knew you were strong. Don't worry, we'll get out of here."

જ⁀➴ She put in double the work to protect you — She just wanted you to start a better life with that money and be happy, free from debt and all of it.

Cho Hyun-ju / Player 120

જ⁀➴ Hyun-ju noticed from the start that you were more secluded, more prone to cry, panicked easily. It was clear to her that you were struggling with this situation, perhaps even more than that. She made it her task to help you as much as she could, comfort you and keep you close to her and her group.

જ⁀➴ You'd often rant to her and tell her what bothered you after she reassured her she'd take care of anything possible. Hyun-ju was the anker you needed in this shithole and you just appreciated her very much. Everything she did seemed to be out of genuine interest and not just to gain your trust and abuse it.

જ⁀➴ Accidentally, Hyun-ju did catch a glimpse of the scars you were so desperate to hide. She didn't mention it, feeling like it wasn't her place to comment on it. Her heart did break for you, though.

જ⁀➴ From then on, she made sure to speak softer to you and distract you from all the horror around you.

Hyun-ju hugged you tightly against her chest, her arms engulfing your figure. "Tonight things could get a bit scary," she mumbled into your hair while she rested her face against your head, "I just want you to know now rather than find out later. I'll keep you safe, you know that." You just nodded, reciprocating the hug after a few moments.

Nam-gyu / Player 124

જ⁀➴ When he found out, as you didn't make the effort to hide them or anything, he did refrain from provoking you in any way. Nam-gyu related, as he considered his drug use not to be the best thing he could do to his body.

જ⁀➴ Both of you hung around in the same group, since Thanos really wanted you on his team, constantly giving you compliments and flirting with you. It annoyed him to a degree, scoffing everytime Thanos tried to talk to him about how pretty you were, how much he wanted you, give you the world. In Nam-gyu's opinion, he didn't get you.. didn't get what you went through, at all.

જ⁀➴ One evening before lights out, the two of you were teasing each other about something and laughed together — something that rarely occured amongst the other players.

"Want me to show you something?" Nam-gyu asked you, leaning a bit closer. Chuckling, you replied with a 'mhm' and watched him pull up the sleeve of his jacket, revealing skin tracks along the inside of his elbow. You raised an eyebrow: "Oh?" You took his arm to get a closer look, tracing his skin with your fingertips. "Well, we all have our stories, huh?" The man nodded at your wrists, making you look at them too, like you didn't already know what he meant.

જ⁀➴ The both of you grew close to each other, much to his amuse. He was a junkie, you were depressed.. it's like a disaster in the making. But, you didn't care. He was sweet and weirdly kind to you — Not in the way Thanos was. You made sure to hug Nam-gyu a few times more after that, in case it could be the last timd you'd get to do that.

Kang Dae-ho / Player 388

જ⁀➴ You were glad to be on Gi-hun's team from the start, since Dae-ho and you got along really well. As a former Marine, which he was super proud of obviously, he declared he'd protect you immediately after you met, making you laugh.

જ⁀➴ He was kind, strong and funny, but maybe a bit oblivious at times.

During the six-legged pentathlon, you two sat next to each other, cheering the current active team on. Yelling and screaming filled the area as they crossed the finish lind just in time, making everyone erupt in cheers. Dae-ho immediately hugged you with joy, excited to see the five live another day, at least. After pulling back witha laugh, you gave him a small high five with your sleeve rolled back. When noticing scars along your wrist and forearm, the former marine gasped pretty loudly. "What?" you asked with genuine concerning, fearing something was wrong with you. "Oh, I'm so sorry," Dae-ho pulled your sleeve back over your arm. "Dude," he looked at you with wide eyes "it's fine." You needed to hold back a laugh.

જ⁀➴ Dae-ho felt so bad to havs accidentally seen something you've been struggling with, that he couldn't help but apologize profusely. You repeated to him that it wasn't a big deal for you and that you were working on this problem, but he didn't stop nonetheless.

જ⁀➴ You thought it was cute how much he seemed to care for you and how often he came up to you just to tell you that he appreciated you. And Dae-ho did, he didn't just say that to make you feel better.

Park Min-su / Player 125

જ⁀➴ Min-su is just shy over all. When he noticed it, he wouldn't say a thing. He'd be dead silent, maybe even a bit scared to talk to you. He was just scared he'd make it awkward, somehow hinting that he knew about your scars. Min-su was just someone who overthought a lot and even you noticed it.

જ⁀➴ After a bit, it annoyed you — The sudden lack of his presence next to you, the fact that he wouldn't properly talk to you anymore, it was all just weird and confusing. So, you decided to ask him directly.

"Did I do something wrong?" your voice wasn't stern, but Min-su could tell that you were kind of upset. "Ah, no-" he quickly replied back, shaking his head, "it's really not you!" He looked at you with his typical innocent face, making it hard for you to keep pressing him about this matter. "Then what is it, seriously?"

જ⁀➴ He explained what he saw and said that he just felt so sorry. Well, at least he didn't speak to you because he didn't want to hurt or upset you, which was really thoughtful.

જ⁀➴ You'd expect that he would now be the one to comfort you or something, but no it was the complete opposite. Min-su seemed to worried about you and kept asking you how you were feeling or if anything bothered you. You had to keep reassuring him that those times were in the past and that he didn't have to be so worried.

જ⁀➴ It was really cute though, so you let it slide.

Kim Jun-hee / Player 222 (implied fem!reader)

જ⁀➴ Since Jun-hee and you were pretty close in age, you two had found each other right away. You kept telling her that she needed more protection, or at least an ally like you, on her side sincs she was pregnant. You weren't really serious about that, just chuckling when bringing it up, but ut definitely made Jun-hee trust you a lot more. It was a critical situation she was in and she was glad to have you by her side.

જ⁀➴ You even banged on the door in the middle of the night to make the guards take her to the bathroom when she was to shy to do it herself.

As ths pink guard brought you to the womens bathroom, Jun-hee held onto you, clearly being in pain. A few minutes later, you were washing your hands and tried to fix yourself up, looking a bit disgusted in the mirror. "What is it?" Jun-hee emerged from one of the stalls, chuckling. "Man, I look like a damn zombie. Look what this place has done to us." Instead of getting a reply, you noticed that she was staring at your arms, at your scars. You had taken your jacket off for convenience and kind of forgot about them. "Oh, I'm sor-" Jun-hee interrupted you, "No! No, I'm sorry, I shouldn't have stared like that!"

જ⁀➴ Obviously everyone had their struggles, but now her own kind of seemed insignificant next to yours. You were doing so much for her and she didn't even know that you were struggling. She should've thought of that.

જ⁀➴ When voicing that thought to you, you felt bad that you made her feel like that. With a hug, it was all sorted out. Jun-hee cared deeply for you and she could tell that you cared for her like that, too. It was nice to know that someone had your back in a place like this.

#squid game #squid game fanfic #squid game season 2 #squid game x reader #squid games x reader #squid games #nam gyu x reader #thanos x reader #dae ho x reader #player 222 #min su x reader #player 222 x reader #hyun ju #player 120 x reader #se mi squid game #se mi x reader #player 388 x reader

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imaginespazzi · 1 day ago

Text

Part 13: If You Stay

Masterlist - Part 1 - Part 2 - Part 3 - Part 4 - Part 5 - Part 6 - Part 7 - Part 8 - Part 9 - Part 10 - Part 11 - Part 12

And I find it bittersweet (cause you gave me something to lose)

(In which, an all over the place writer, writes an all over the place chapter)

Pairing: Paige Bueckers X Azzi Fudd

Themes: Angst with some Hurt/Comfort and a little bit of Fluff

Words: 13.1K

TW: Swearing, Slightly Suggestive Content, Mentions of Divorce, Drinking

A/N: Hello my lovelies <3 So clearly that 48 to 72 hours deadline completely evaded me but here I am! I've always gotten asks about how many chapters GH will be and normally it's an estimate but I can almost for certain say that after this one, there will be two more chapters. This part is, like I said, a little all over the place as I start to tie in loose ends and bring everything together but it's pretty important as we start our journey to the end. This isn't particularly well-edited because as well know I hate editing but I eventually will go back and edit so any typos/errors you see are much-appreciated. As always, your live reacts give me life, so let me know what you liked, what you didn't and what you'd like to see next. Have a lovely weekend my loves <3

May 2033

Paige wakes up alone to an empty bed. Her eyes open to the feel of her fingers reaching out and finding nothing but the soft material of her crinkled bedsheets. She stares at the empty space, gaze fixated on the way the sunlight hits the exact spot Azzi had been curled up in and lets her mind wander back to yesterday -god everything had been fine just 24 hours ago- when the rays of sunshine coming through the window had cast lines of gold across the brunette’s face. It wasn’t often that Paige woke up before Azzi, but for some reason she had yesterday. Maybe it was the universe’s way of giving her one last chance to memorize an image that she’s not sure when she’ll be able to see again. Paige traces her hands along the linen, blinking back tears, and she swears she can still feel the heat of Stephie and Azzi’s bodies radiating off of it. It’s unfair, she knows, to expect them to have stayed when it’s the one thing she herself can’t commit to doing but still, that awareness does little to dull the ache reverberating through her chest.

Sighing to herself, Paige shifts onto her back, turning away from the empty space that almost feels taunting. She gives herself a minute, taking deep breaths to chase away the erraticness in her heartbeat and the moisture in her eyes before finally sitting up and leaning against the headboard. Her eyebrows knit together when she notices the bag in the corner -the pink duffel Azzi had packed for last night- and she almost gasps. It wasn’t like Azzi to forget her stuff, even when escaping. And then she hears it, the familiar giggles of a little girl echoing from her kitchen and Paige feels her heart break and fix itself at the same time.

They’d stayed.

Paige flings the covers off of herself, making it from the guest bedroom to the stairs in record time. She almost slips on the fifth step as she races down the stairs, every part of her alight with the need to just see Stephie and Azzi. Her feet skid to a halt before the kitchen doorway and her breath catches in her lungs, hand immediately clutching at her chest as she takes in the scene in front of her. It’s the three most important people of her life gathered around the kitchen counter. Azzi’s flipping pancakes, a soft grin on her face as she listens to Drew and Stephie -both of them already with a stack of pancakes on their respective plates- who are animatedly arguing about whether banana or chocolate chips go better with pancakes.

“Come on Uncle Drew,” Stephie drawls, “choc-chips are the best-est-est-est and ‘nanas are boooooring.”

“Bananas are not boring,” Drew counters, his voice filled with dramatic offense, “you can mash them in the pancake or eat them on the side or on top of the stack. Bananas are versatile.”

Stephie scrunches her nose and Paige smiles as the little girl gives her brother a pointed look, “I don’t know what vers-a-tile means so that doesn’t even matter to me.”

Azzi snorts, “I don’t think that’s how that works Stephie-bean.”

“Does too,” Stephie pouts and then juts her fork out at Drew, “here Uncle Drew, try it and you’ll see choc-chips are so much better than that,” she looks disdainfully at the young man’s plate.

Drew dutifully accepts the bite of food, chewing it at an exaggeratedly slow pace as he pretends to contemplate how he feels about it.

“I mean it’s not bad,” he says finally, before a smirk breaks out on his lips, “but banana’s clear.”

“Nah, I don’t know about that,” Paige says, finally making her presence known as she walks over to Stephie’s side, “You’re both wrong. Blueberries are better with pancakes than both bananas and chocolate chips,” she reaches out to ruffle Stephie’s hair, smile faltering when the little girl dodges her hand, “Steph-”

“Mama,” gone is the happy child that had been casually bantering with Drew; Stephie’s face is ashen with the remnants of her emotions from last night as shift herself as far away from Paige as possible, “I wanna go home.”

Her words feel like a sword, pricking against the bubble of delusion Paige had created mere seconds ago; the wishful thought that maybe they could ignore what had happened last night, that they could just close the lid on the jar of darkness they’d opened and pretend the obsidian hadn’t slipped out, clouding the paradise they’d built before. And maybe that’s Paige’s problem. Avoidance. She’d pushed herself towards Stephie and Azzi, acting like there wasn’t a harness -bound together with the ropes of all the grievances, all the fears, that the past had left in her- and now she was stuck, so close to reaching them but unable to finally get there.

Azzi’s eyes flicker conflictedly between Paige’s ashen face and Stephie’s stormy one, her teeth gnawing at her bottom lip, “you’ve still got some more left on your plate Stephie-bean,”

“I don’t want the rest,” Stephie says adamantly, pushing the plate away from her, “I’m not hungry anymore.”

“Stephie we don’t waste food,” Azzi says it like it’s a reprimand but Paige knows it’s for her sake, to give her more time with Stephie, and a mix of guilt and gratefulness pools in her stomach as fights the urge to pull the younger woman into her arms and kiss away the stress lines that have formed on her forehead in the last 24 hours.

“Then pack it and we can take it home,” Stephie slides off the counter, tiny arms crossing over her chest as she looks at her mother with pleading eyes, “please Mama, I don’t wanna be here anymore.”

“Stephie-” Paige tries to say, reaching out once again for the little girl.

“Excuse me Coach Bueckers,” Stephie sidesteps the older woman, her voice far colder than a little girl’s voice should -far colder than anything she’s ever used with her Miss Buecks- and it feels like shards of ice prodding against Paige’s heart.

“Stephie please-”

The little girl refuses to meet her gaze but Paige notices the way her eyes glance towards her for the briefest moment, like she wants nothing more than to turn around and fling herself at the older woman. But the look is gone as quick as it came and Stephie’s face hardens -and Paige hates herself for being the reason why- as she looks at her mother.

“Please can we go home now Mama?”

Azzi sighs, “yeah bean, we can go home. Unless-” she hesitates, eyes locking with Paige’s, “unless- maybe Miss Buecks has a reason we should stay?”

And Paige knows this is Azzi giving her one last chance, one last opportunity to say the right things, to keep Stephie and Azzi with her. It’s why she hadn’t left this morning; she’d been waiting to see if Paige was ready. And all Paige has to do is open her mouth and make the promises that she couldn’t last night; shut the door on her escape plan -to New York and the Liberty- and she can open the one that leads to her perfect dream; that leads to a forever with Stephie and Azzi. But that’s the thing; what if forever doesn’t last? After all, the last time she’d trusted in it -trusted the same woman in front of her to be hers always- forever had turned out to be a myth. But Paige isn’t ready. And so she averts Azzi’s gaze, keeps her mouth shut and looks away before she can see the hope disappear from the brunette’s face.

“Right,” Azzi swallows, “alright then uh -you’re right Stephie- we should- we should go home. You go wash your face and uh- Mama’s gonna go grab our stuff and then- then we can go.”

The last words make an indiscernible noise creak out of Paige’s lips as she watches Stephie make her way towards the bathroom. Azzi carefully flips the final pancake onto a plate -one with a stack of blueberry pancakes- before turning the stove off and beelining for the stairs towards the guest room. But Paige is quicker, curling her fingers around the younger woman’s wrist to keep her in place.

“Az,” she breathes out, unsure what to say- unsure what she even wants to say.

Azzi doesn’t look at her, “I ordered groceries.”

“What?”

“You didn’t have any food and I- I wanted to make pancakes,” Azzi explains, “but uh- I got more than just pancake stuff. There’s eggs and milk and that stupid cereal that you like and just- just basic groceries you know. And I know you don’t like veggies but I had to get some because they’re good for you Paige okay but don’t- don’t worry- I balanced it out with all those ridiculously unhealthy snacks you like.”

“Azzi,” Paige’s voice cracks, “you didn’t have to-”

“I did,” Azzi cuts her off, “you just- you can’t live off of fucking takeout okay,” a lone tear slides down her cheek, “and I got- I got enough groceries to last you two weeks but you- you’ll have to get more eventually if-” she stops herself but they both know where that sentences was going.

If you’re gonna live here- if you’re gonna live by yourself.

“I just-” Paige struggles to get the words out, “I need some more time.”

“I know,” Azzi finally looks at her and for a second Paige almost wishes she hadn’t because the hurt -the please just say you’ll stay- swimming in the younger woman’s eyes is almost too much to bear, “I know you need time and you- you can have it,” she brushes her thumb against Paige’s waterline, “but you can’t have both. You can’t have time and us.”

Why not, Paige wants to scream, wants to stomp her feet like a petulant toddler but she knows Azzi’s right, knows that they have to be apart until she figures it out. And so she nods at the brunette’s words as Azzi gently caresses her cheek -fingers lingering just a little longer than they should- before she rushes upstairs to grab her and Stephie’s overnight bag.

Paige watches her go before she disappears out of sight, and the blonde falls back against the counter. Closing her eyes as she takes in a couple of deep breaths, she swears the air has never felt more acidic. She can feel Drew looking at her; can almost see the contemplative -maybe even concerned- look in his eyes without opening her own.

“What?” she bites out, harsher than intended.

“Nothing,” Drew hesitates, “I just- I didn’t think Azzi would have stayed last night.”

Paige shrugs, eyes still closed, “I asked her to.”

“I figured but I- I guess I didn’t expect her to agree,” Drew says quietly.

There’s an undercurrent to her brother’s tone that has Paige finally opening her eyes, fixing him with a stern gaze, “what exactly are you trying to say Drew?”

“Nothing,” Drew repeats but the nervous shuffle of his feet say something entirely different.

“Drew.”

“She stayed Paige,” his voice breaks unexpectedly, “last night, this morning, she- she stayed.”

There’s a beat of silence as Paige stares at her brothers, absorbing his words when the unexpected flash of anger hits, “seriously?”

“What?” Drew’s taken aback by the fire in his sister's eyes.

“What do you mean what? One fucking stack of pancakes and suddenly all that shit you said to me last night- you don’t believe it anymore? All of that’s forgotten now?”

“That’s not-”

“Jesus fucking christ Drew,” Paige pinches the bridge of her nose and she’s fully aware her anger is misdirected -that it’s herself, she’s mad at- but she continues ranting at her brother anyways, “you made me overthink everything Drew. I was doing fine, we were doing fine and then- then you said all of that shit last night, reminded me of everything and now here we are the next morning and what? You’re not mad at Azzi anymore? She stays one fucking night and all is forgiven? You’ve changed your whole fucking mind-”

“You can’t blame me-” Drew begins to cut her off loudly but then there’s another voice -soft and small- interrupting both of them as they turn to see Stephie staring at them, her expression almost fearful at the sound of them arguing. And Paige hates herself a little bit for putting all these new expressions on the little girl’s face; she misses when she used to be the reason for her smile.

“That’s- that’s two bad words Miss-” Stephie stops herself, swallowing away the familiar name, “I mean- Coach Bueckers.”

“Sorry Stephie,” Paige whispers, pausing slightly before she takes a nervous step towards the girl, “so does that- does that mean I owe you two kisses?”

Stephie’s face wobbles, her bottom lip trembling as she nods slowly, “yeah you do.”

Paige breathes shakily as she kneels down in front of the little girl, eyes drinking in the sight of having her this close -like they know they might not get this moment again- as she slowly pulls her into her arms. Stephie is warm and soft and familiar and Paige wishes she would never have to let the little girl go. She squeezes her to her chest as she delicately places her lips against Stephies left cheek.

“I’m sorry sweetheart,” she whispers against the little girl’s soft skin, hoping the child knows it isn’t just for the swearing before she presses another fluttering kiss against Stephie’s right cheek, “I’m so sorry.”

And then, just as Stephie’s about to pull out of her grasp, Paige stops her, pressing her lips to the little girl’s forehead. When she pulls back, Stephie’s staring at her with a confused look on her face.

“You only owed me two,” she says matter-of-factly, “what was the last one for?”

Paige gives the little girl a sad smile as she brushes away a strand of curly hair that had gotten loose from her ponytail, “just because you’re my Stephie-bean.”

Stephie stares at her and Paige can see a myriad of emotions flicker behind her tiny eyes. She opens her mouth, like she’s about to say something and Paige’s heart thumps in anticipation, but then the sound of Azzi’s footsteps coming down echoes from the stairs and Stephie pushes away from her. And suddenly, Paige feels empty, like the most vital parts of her are missing.

“You ready to go Stephie-bean?” Azzi asks, mustering on a brave voice for her daughter but Paige can hear the way it’s cracking, can tell from her red-rimmed eyes that she’d taken a little longer than necessary upstairs to fix herself.

“Yeah Mama,” Stephie takes her mother’s outstretched hand, “let’s go home.”

The walk through the foyer and outside towards Azzi car feels like it takes hours. Drew doesn’t come all the way, stopping at the front door and giving Stephie a quick high-five that draws a brief smile from the little girl. He doesn’t say anything to Azzi but there’s an underlying softness in the way he tips his head towards her as they nod at each other. And then it’s just the three of them and Paige swears they’re all walking just a little bit slower than they normally do, like they’re trying to savor this moment just a little longer and prolong the inevitable.

She leans against the side of the car as Azzi buckles Stephie into her carseat. The little girl keeps on her brave face, avoiding eye contact with both Paige and her mother as she focuses firmly in front of her. When Azzi closes the backdoor, Stephie’s face disappearing behind the tinted windows, Paige wants to scream. Everything in her feels like it’s burning and freezing at the same time.

Azzi hesitates as she’s about to get into the driver’s seat, biting her lip as she turns back towards Paige.

“You should know that I - that Stephie and I- we-” she pauses, like she’s scared to say the rest of it, “we want you- we want you forever Paige,” both of them suck in a deep breath as the confession looms in the air above them, “and I know you need time and you should take it,” Azzi says softly, her hand reaching almost halfway to caress Paige’s cheek before falling forlornly back to her sides, “but we can’t- we won’t wait forever.”

***

August 2031

Paige is normally a big fan of All-Star weekend; she relishes the chaos of the weekend, getting the opportunity to connect with her fellow peers in a way that wasn’t possible during the rest of the season and just didn’t quite happen at this level outside of it. But she’s definitely not a fan of it this year, considering it’s being held in her team’s city, in Dallas. Six years later and still, something about this city doesn’t quite feel right, doesn’t feel quite like a place she can call home.

But still, at least it had given her the chance to not have to be in her apartment this weekend. Unlike her teammates who were more than comfortable staying in their respective homes, Paige had taken up the WNBA’s offer to stay where the rest of the non-Wings players were staying. It’s ironic that the sterile walls of an unfamiliar hotel somehow feel more comforting than a home that’s supposed to be hers. Except, the apartment -the one she’d moved into after the divorce after giving Oliva their house in an act of goodwill- feels cold and empty and Paige has done little to rectify it. She pretends it’s because she’s too busy, that she’ll get to hanging up the picture frames and decorating the walls eventually. But there’s a part of her that knows she’s likely just stalling the inevitable, that the apartment is as temporary as it gets until she finally lets herself make the decision to to leave Dallas.

The quiet ding of the elevator opening has Paige sighing as she shakes her mind of that daunting thought. It’s why she’d rushed out of her room in the first place, not wanting to be trapped with herself for longer than necessary. The silence has become her worst enemy, enhancing the loneliness that she’s felt ever since the divorce- maybe even longer.

Divorce.

God she hates that word, has hated it since her parents had sat her down and said they were getting one. She’d always told herself she wouldn’t become another divorce statistic like them but clearly history liked repeating itself. And the worst part of it, Paige thinks, is that she doesn’t regret the divorce -thinks it might be one of the only right decisions she’s made in the last six years- but maybe she regrets that marriage, regrets selling Olivia a dream, she’d subconsciously always known she wouldn’t be able to fulfill.

Thinking of Olivia makes Paige feel awful. She hadn’t done anything outrightly wrong to the other woman, never raised her voice or said anything untoward and she’d definitely never cheated. Well, not physically at least. But she’d gotten married to the reporter for all the wrong reasons, trying to fit a puzzle piece that had all the wrong edges into the jigsaw of her life even though she’d known the empty space in her heart could only be filled by one person. For her part, Olivia had been just as good at pretending as Paige was, acting like she couldn’t see the cracks in their relationship or the water that was seeping in through them.

And then something shifted -maybe the water had finally gone over their head- and just like she’d been the one to bring up the idea of getting married, Olivia was the one who had filed for divorce. And Paige thinks maybe the worst thing she ever did to Olivia, is the way she didn’t fight it once. She remembers the hesitation in her ex-wife’s eyes, remembers the slight pleading look on her face as if she wanted Paige to at least resist it a little bit. But she hadn’t; she’d simply nodded and signed. That was the end of the Olivia, Paige knew and from then on the sweet, bubbly, slightly over-enthusiastic reporter who’d stumbled over her question at Paige’s first media availability transformed into a cold ex-wife who could keep up a charade of cordiality for appearances, but never refrained from a cutting jab here and there.

The elevator dings open and Paige steps into the lobby, straightening her hoodie a little bit as she scans the area for familiar faces. Finding no one she’s particularly interested in talking to, she’d just about to head to the bar when her eyes land on a little girl nervously bouncing on her feet next to a vase of flowers that’s almost double her height. She can’t be older than three years old and Paige can tell from the way her bottom lip is trembling, that the young child is doing her absolute best to hold in tears. Something constricts in her heart -something almost more than just empathy for the little girl- as Paige makes her way over.

Gently, trying not to scare the girl, Paige kneels in front of her, “hey sweetheart.”

When the little girl turns to look at her, familiar dark brown doey eyes filled with unshed tears, her breath hitches in her throat and Paige suddenly realizes why she’d felt that tug in her heart. This is Azzi’s kid.

“H-hi,” the little girl manages to splutter, playing with her fingers as she regards Paige with a way expression, clearly trying to discern whether she’s safe or not.

“Hey,” Paige repeats, smiling reassuringly, “you okay?”

The little girl nods slowly but there must something about the warmth in Paige’s smile that she pauses, rebellious teardrops running down her face as she goes from nodding to shaking her head.

“I-I-I-I- lost,” she wails.

“Oh sweetheart it’s okay,” Paige tries to say, hands instinctively reaching out to run up and down the little girl’s shoulders.

“I was- I was ‘posed to be with Aunty J but she- she was talking and I saw pu-ple flow-es,” she points to the vase through her tears, “so I came to see but then- but then- I look back and Aunty J no there anymore and I want- I want my Mama,” she heaves, fully sobbing now, “I want my Mama.”

“It’s okay sweetheart, shhh,” Paige comforts the little girl as she stands back up, lacing her own fingers through her tinier ones, “how about we go and try to find your Mama?”

She’s about to turn around when feels a tug on her hand and when she looks down, the young child is shaking her head, adamantly planting her feet firmly on the floor.

“We can’t go,” she says firmly, “Mama says if I get lost, I stay where I am and Mama will find me. And-,” she hesitates as she looks Paige up and down, “Mama says I don’t go anywhere with a st-anger.”

It shouldn’t sting -because that’s what Paige is, a stranger- but it’s an unsettling reminder that this is a world like nothing she’d ever imagined when she was younger, a world where Azzi’s daughter doesn’t know her.

“So we can’t go. We have to stay here and Mama will find me,” the little girl says again and despite the tears still swimming in her eyes, there’s complete confidence -trust- in her voice that her mother -that Azzi- will find her.

“Okay,” Paige agrees softly, “but is it okay if I wait with you?”

Azzi’s daughter looks at her with a contemplative look for a couple of seconds before a bright grin explodes on her face and Paige thinks it feels a little bit like a ray of sunshine bombarding into her otherwise cloudy world.

“Okay,” the little girl grins happily before holding out a tiny hand, “I’m Stephanie Katarina Fudd.”

Paige laughs at the formality as she shakes Stephanie’s hand, “I’m Paige Madison Bueckers.”

“Nice to meet you Miss Buecks,” Stephanie chirps as smiles up at the woman.

“It’s Bueckers,” Paige tries to correct as Stephanie scrunches up her nose.

“That’s what I said,” she says with a confused look on her face, “Miss Buecks.”

Paige opens her mouth to try and correct her again but stops, deciding she’s not about to argue with the little girl and that she quite likes the incorrect way Stephanie says her name. Instead she lets herself fall to the ground, leaning against the pillar as she stretches out her legs in front of her. Stephanie raises an eyebrow at the actions but eventually sits down next to her and Paige smiles. They sit in silence for a bit as Paige reaches for her phone, considering texting Azzi for a brief second before she eventually decides to text Jana -who she thinks might just be Stephanie’s Aunty J- instead to let Azzi know Stephanie was with her.

“I know you,” Stephanie says suddenly and Paige looks away from the phone to see the little girl’s eyes wide with recognition.

“I thought you said I was a stranger,” Paige cocks a teasing eyebrow.

“You are,” Stephanie says matter-of-factly, “but I seen you at Mama’s game sometimes.”

“I’ve seen you too,” Paige admits.

“You’re good at bask-ball,” Stephanie states and the thing is, Paige has heard and read so many people say she’s great at basketball but there’s something about the way Stephanie says it -something about the genuine innocence of it- that makes her beam with pride.

“I guess I am,” she bumps Stephanie’s shoulder as she winks at her.

“I love bask-ball,” Stephaniee’s eyes gleam as she says it and Paige knows that expression -knows that slight look of madness that’s just the beginning of falling in love with a sport.

“Yeah?” she asks casually, “you play ball?”

Stephanie nods enthusiastically, “Mama got me a hoop for Ch-istmas -just like the one she had when she littler- and she p-omised that when I’m bigger, she’s gonna lemme go bask-ball camp.”

It’s hard not to grin along with Stephanie’s ranting, especially not when her determination to play basketball -one that reminds Paige a lot of herself- shines through her words.

“You any good,” Paige teases, biting back a laugh when the little girl’s face contorts in offense, like she can’t even believe someone would have the audacity to question her basketball skills.

“Of course I am. I’m Azzi Fudd’s daughter,” Stephanie says proudly, blissfully unaware of the way Paige's smile wobbles for a second at the statement, “but Mama says one day, I’mma be even gooder than her.”

“Can I get your autograph now then?”

Stephanie scrunches her nose, “what’s an au-to-gra-ph?”

“Wait,” Paige stands up, on a mission to find a pen, but Stephanie immediately grabs her hand.

The little girl’s eyes are wide with anxiety as she looks up at Paige, “no Miss Buecks don’t leave me.”

“Oh sweetheart I’m not,” Paige crouches back down in front of Stephanie, thumbs reaching out to rub the little girl’s cheeks in reassurance, “I’m gonna go right there to get something,” she points to the the reception desk, “I’ll be back in one minutes. I swear.”

“Pinky p-omise?” Stephanie raises her pinky and Paige diligently intertwines her own around it.

“Pinky promise,” she says, before practically skipping over to where she’d spotted a cup-holder full of pens. She can feel Stephanie’s anxious eyes piercing into the back of her head and if possible, the smile she’s had on her face since meeting the little girl, somehow deepens. It’s dangerous, she knows, becoming so enamored with Azzi’s daughter but her heart has always moved faster than her head, and Paige still hasn’t quite figured out how to stop that.

“You’re back,” Stephanie claps happily when Paige comes back to her and the blonde beams at the affection in her voice.

“Told you I would be,” Paige grins as she plops back down next to the little girl, holding out the pen she’d found.

“Why you get pen?” Stephanie asks, staring at it like it’s a foreign object.

“Because you need a pen to give me your autograph,” Paige explains, “an autograph is when someone famous signs their name on something for someone,” she holds out her arm that is currently covered by a grey hoodie, “will you sign my hoodie?”

“Silly Miss Buecks,” Stephanie chides, “You and Mama are famous. I’m not famous.”

“Not yet. But if you’re as good at basketball as you say you are, then one day, Stephanie Katarina Fudd, you are gonna be so famous. Just like me and your Mama,” Paige taps the little girl’s nose, releasing the giggle it elicits from her and she thinks it might be her new favorite sound, “and I wanna be the first person who gets your autograph.”

“Can I get yours too?” Stephanie asks, her tone a little shy and Paige thinks that forget an autograph, she’d give her the world if she’d asked for it.

“Of course you can bean,” the nickname slips out before she can catch it and Paige’s mind travels back to her wedding day, back to the phone-call with Azzi.

“Mama calls me bean too,” Stephanie says, as she begins to messily try and write her name on the sleeve of Paige’s hoodie, “she calls me Stephie-bean.”

As if on cue, Azzi’s voice fills the air, tinged with a slight bit of panic and Paige feels her heart catch in her throat. Six years they’ve been apart, something always thrums in her every time she feels Azzi’s presence near her. But it feels almost electric this time. The memories of the last time they’d seen each other, the night they’d spent together after this year’s National Championship game linger in the air and Paige shivers like she can still feels the softness of Azzi’s skin underneath her fingertips; can still hear the breathlessness of her moans in her hears.

“Stephie-bean,” Azzi calls out and Stephanie’s eyes dart towards her mother’s voice as she immediately stands up, little feet tripping over each other as she rushes to get to the younger woman.

“MAMA,” Stephanie yells, flinging herself into her mother’s arms and Paige watches as Azzi cradles the little girl to her chest, kissing all over her face. Something pangs in her chest, and she wishes she were a part of that embrace too. And if all the dreams they’d dreamt together when they were younger had come true, she would’ve been.

“Stephie what have I said about running off,” Azzi scolds as she coaxes the little girl's face out of her neck.

“I din-t run off,” Stephanie defends petulantly, “I go to look at pu-ple flow-es cause they looked so pretty but then when I turned around, Aunty J gone,’ her face wobbles at the memory, “I was so scay-ed Mama cause I lost and ‘lone but then,” her voice changes immediately as she turns around to point at Paige, who freezes when Azzi’s gaze lands on her, “Miss Buecks find me!”

“Miss Buecks,” Azzi repeats dazedly as Stephanie begins to pull her towards Paige, unaware of the anxious tension between the two adults.

“This is Miss Buecks,” Stephahnie introduces the two of them, “she find me and she tol’ me she help me find you but I say that Stephie can’t move cause Stephie have to stay right here cause Mama says if Stephie lost, Stephie don’t move,” the little girl says animatedly and both adults laugh at the random switch to third-person, “but Miss Buckes say she’ll stay with me and so I not ‘care anymore cause I have Miss Buecks,” she says casually, naive to the way it makes both Paige and Azzi swallows, “and look Mama,” she eagerly grabs Paige’s sleeve, “I give Miss Buecks my auto-gaph.”

“That’s, that’s lovely sweetheart,” Azzi says softly before she turns to Paige -and Paige wonders if it’ll ever stop, if the way her stomach swoons every time the brunette looks at her will ever go away-, “thank you for texting Jana and thank you- thank you for staying with her.”

Paige shrugs as casually as she can, “don’t gotta thank me,” she nudges Stephanie, “we had a great time together didn’t we Stephanie?”

The little girl nods enthusiastically, “the great-est-est-est time,” she exclaims to her mother, “Miss Buecks is so cool.”

“Thanks Stephie-” Paige hesitates, unsure if she has the right to use the nickname, “Stephanie. You’re really cool too.”

Stephanie practically glows at the compliment, “Mama, Miss Buecks thinks I’m cool and- and- and- she say that I’m gonna be famous one day. That’s why she wanted my auto-gaph. Cause I’mma be a big bask-ball star just like you two.”

Azzi ruffles the little girl’s hair before looking at Paige with an indiscernible expression, “just like us huh?”

“Maybe even better,” Paige says softly.

“I guess we’ll find out,” Azzi grins before leaning down to pick her daughter up -the sight of it invoking something warm and fuzzy in Paige’s stomach- “alright Stephie-bean, say bye to Miss Buecks. We gotta go get ready the orange carpet and I gotta go yell at your Aunty J for losing you again,” she winks at Paige who lets out a laugh.

And she hasn’t laughed like this -laughed as much as she has in these last few minutes with Stephanie- in so long that she’d almost forgotten what it sounded like.

“Bye Miss Buecks,” Stephanie waves over her mother’s shoulder.

“Bye Stephanie,” Paige waves before hesitating for a second, and then she calls out, “hey Azzi?”

Azzi turns around slightly, humming in response, “what’s up?”

“I like that you call her Stephie-bean,” Paige admits nervously, hoping Azzi will understand what she means and by the way the brunette’s eyes soften, it’s clear she does.

“It just felt right,” Azzi says softly; her mouth opens like she wants to say more -something more than what their current colleague-esque relationship allows for- but in the end, she settles on something far more mundane, “see you around Bueckers.”

“See ya,” Paige whispers back and if she stands completely still, watching Stephanie and Azzi walking all the way until they turn a corner and she can’t see them anymore, well that’s nobody’s business but her own.

That’s the first night Paige lets herself wonder about the possibilities of becoming a Golden State Valkyrie.

***

June 2033

Dream 64 Valkyries 87

Paige has never had particularly strong feelings towards the Atlanta Dream. They weren’t a particularly bad team, nor were they a particularly great team and Paige had simply never had an experience with them -whether it was a fan of the league or as a player in it- that was worth remembering for her to feel anything towards them. But tonight, tonight Paige fucking hates the Atlanta Dream.

Okay maybe she doesn’t hate the team.

She hates a certain player, a certain #11 wearing French player who’d had the audacity to hold her Stephie, to wrap her arms around her Azzi. Paige had spent the first couple of minutes of warm-ups with a deep scowl on her face as she’d watched Clémence interact with her girls. She’d hated the way Stephie grinned at the French woman, hated the way Azzi had laughed at something she’d said. But most of all Paige hated that she hadn’t been able to do any of that -hadn’t been on the receiving end of Stephie’s giggles or Azzi’s warm smile- for almost three weeks now. God she missed them so fucking much.

It was until Jana had tapped her on the back -a knowing look in her teammate’s eyes- that Paige had finally turned away from the scene. She’d channeled all her anger and frustration into the game, playing as the most aggressive version of herself. And it had paid off in the form of a 31 points, 7 assists, 4 rebounds and 3 stocks game, another statline cementing her position in the rather early race for MVP. But all of that feels futile now as Paige -signing autographs before she had to head off to media- notices Stephie go racing back into Clémence’s arms, the little girl’s face bright with happiness as the French woman catches her and twirls her around. From the corner of her eyes, she notices Azzi walking towards the two of them and Paige normally loves Azzi’s smile -think’s it’s nothing short of being the prettiest sight in the world- but she thinks she might hate it a little bit right now when it’s directed at Clémence.

“Aunty Chérie,” Stephie’s squeals echo clearly in Paige’s ears, despite the noise of the crowd surround her, “you played so good today.”

“Merci ma chérie,” Clémence's voice is saccharine sweet, “I’m very happy to see you. I have missed you lots. I was thinking,” Paige continues to sign another jersey but her ears are fully tuned into the conversation happening a couple meters away as Clémence’s attention turns towards Azzi, “we are leaving tomorrow morning so I have some time tonight. So I was thinking maybe I could take you and Stephie out to dinner tonight? Unless-” Paige feels both Clemence’s and Azzi’s eyes flicker to herself and she tries to keep her focus on the fans in front of her, “unless perhaps you are going with someone else?”

Paige waits with bated breath for Azzi’s answer, wishing her telepathic plea for the brunette say no, could somehow reach her but it’s Stephie who answers first.

“Mama please can we go,” the little girl begs immediately -her tone one that Paige knows to be the one she uses when she’s trying to get her mother to agree, “please, please, please. We haven’t gotten dinner with Aunty Chérie in so long.”

“Stephie-” there’s hesitation in Azzi’s voice but Paige knows that she’s likely to cave into her daughter’s wishes -after all Stephie isn’t asking for anything ridiculous- and she knows she has to get away, not wanting to hear anymore about Clémence’s stupid fucking dinner plans.

Giving the fans in front of her a tight-lipped smile, Paige slowly backs away from them, eyes searching for Joyce -her companion to face the press tonight- as she heads towards the media-room. She’s so focused on looking for her teammate or perhaps she’s too in her head but she doesn’t spot the assistant carrying water bottles coming. The two of them collide with a large crash that rings around Chase Center as the bottles go flying across the court. Paige’s cheeks turn a deep shade of pink as she feels the eyes of everyone on her -none more piercing than Azzi’s- but she doesn’t dare turn around. Instead she shoots the assistant an apologetic look, gathering as many water bottles as in front of her, before she’s bolting to the press room, wondering what the fuck she's done for the universe to keep testing her like this.

***

Paige is the last person left in the locker room. By the time she and Joyce had returned from the press conference, most of the team had fizzled out. And so she’d taken her time -ignoring the weird look Joyce gave her considering normally they were all eager to get home- showering and getting changed. She’d come out of the shower to a desolate locker room and as she’d sat on the bench, drying her damp hair, she’d let herself succumb to all the thoughts she’d been suppressing.

It’s somehow worse this time; it hurts more in a way that Paige hadn’t known was possible. They hadn’t been together nearly as long as they were back then and their relationship was barely defined. But at least last time, Paige had been able to run to another side of the country where she wasn’t constantly reminded of her ex. Azzi isn’t even technically an ex this time, but there’s no avoiding her. Not when they’re on the same team, not when she’s a coach at her daughter’s camp. And Paige doesn’t quite know what’s harder, trying to find oxygen in an air devoid of Azzi and Stephie’s presence, or trying to breathe when they’re near her.

Perhaps that’s why it’s so different. Paige has lost Azzi before and even if that doesn’t make the hurt any less, at least she has a blueprint for how to cope with it. But she doesn’t know how to deal with losing Stephie, doesn’t know how to not miss the little girl’s smile and her big doey eyes and the way she’d used to wrap her arms around Paige like she was trying to bind them together forever.

But more than anything, more than missing Azzi or Stephie, Paige misses the three of them together. She misses Azzi’s exasperated look when she and Stephie would indulge in some sort of ridiculous drama. She misses the little girl’s mischievous look before she’d launch herself into both of their arms. She misses her own soft smile as she’d watch the two of them engage in the most mundane things. She misses the peaceful silence as they’d eat together and the noisy chaos when they’d argue over what movie to watch afterwards. She misses everything.

And the worst part is that she knows she wouldn’t be missing any of it, if it wasn’t for the barriers she’s put up herself. This is a cage of Paige’s own making and the key to open the lock rests in her own hands. She just needs to be brave enough to use it. Azzi words run amok in her head, the reassurance that Paige could have time clouded by the reluctant warning that eventually that time would run out.

“Hey,” she snaps herself out of her thoughts to see Azzi cautiously entering the locker room, her playing jersey swapped from a casual green top and cargo pants.

Paige swallows, “hi.”

“I uh- I was um-” Azzi’s eyes nervously dart around the room as she strides over to her locker, picking up the pink lipgloss -one Paige has the taste of memorized- that’s sitting on the bench under it, “I forgot this so I uh- I came back to grab it.”

“Cool,” Paige replies monotonously but her head’s already racing with thoughts of will you let her kiss it off of you the way you let me? And she knows -she trusts- that Azzi won’t but even the possibility of it lights a small fire within her.

Azzi chews on her lips as she nods, before starting to walk towards the door but she stops last second, turning around with the starts of a smile on her lips, “you were amazing tonight P. I mean you have been since the season started but tonight especially, you were just- you were you. You were awesome.”

Paige absorbs the compliments, tries to use it to douse the simmering jealousy that’s flaming up within her at the knowledge that once Azzi leaves this locker room, she’s likely going with Clémence.

“Thanks,” the blonde manages to get out and it’s a little short and rather icy but Paige thinks it’s probably better than saying all the other things that are on the tip of her tongue.

Azzi’s face dims at the curt reply, smile faltering as she nods, “anytime, P.”

That should be it. Paige should let her go, should be content with this small interaction that’s the most she’s gotten from outside of practice in weeks. But then the bitter words are waterfalling from her lips faster than she can stop them and despite the regret she feels immediately after, there’s a part of her that’s relieved when it makes Azzi come to a halt right in front of the door.

“Your girl played well too,” she bites out, the acidic words burning her tongue.

Azzi doesn’t turn around but Paige notices the way her shoulders go rigid, “don’t do this Paige. You know she’s not my girl.”

Paige ignores her, “11 points, 2 rebounds, 1 assist. Not bad numbers. Decent. But not better than yours of course.”

“Paige,” there's a warning note in Azzi’s voice, like she knows exactly where Paige is going with this.

“I’m just saying, “ Paige shrugs with a casualness that’s in stark contrast to the tension lingering in the air, “she’s a decent player. But you’d never be in her shadow. Never be known as just her anything.”

Azzi turns around slowly and Paige feels her anger dissipate as quickly as it had erupted when she takes in the way the brunette’s eyes are brimming with tears.

“Seriously?” Azzi grits out, “you’re seriously gonna throw that in my face right now?”

“I’m not throwing anything in your face. I’m stating a fact-”

“Oh bullshit-”

“It’s not bullshit,” Paige yells before she sucks in a sharp breath, closing her eyes to calm herself down before she continues, “it’s not bullshit,” she repeats, “it is a fact and that fact is the reason why we’re here right now.”

“What do you mean?” Azzi crosses her arms across her body.

“Nine years ago you said no-”

“Oh my god,” Azzi says exasperatedly, “we can’t keep going over this again.”

“We have to Azzi,” Paige cuts her off, “we have to because you said no. And you broke my heart and you broke my trust. And that’s why we’re here right now. That’s why I made the deal with the Liberty and that’s why I can’t let of my escape plan and that’s why I can’t promise to stay and that’s why we have to keep going over it. Because I’m trying, “her voice cracks as the first tear slides down, “god Azzi- I’m trying so fucking hard baby but how do I know you won’t say no me -to us- again?”

Azzi stares at her with an undecipherable expression, her fists clenching and unclenching by her sides. It feels like an eternity passes in between them as they look at each other, breathing heavily almost in sync, until the brunette finally speaks.

“Well how do I know you won’t leave again?”

Paige blinks in confusion, “excuse me?”

“You keep accusing me of all of these things Paige but you’re the one that keeps leaving,” Azzi says and they both know she isn’t just talking about nine years ago, “I know- I know I made a mistake. But when I said no all I asked for was a little bit of time. That’s all I asked for Paige. Time. Just like you’re asking for right now. And I know- I know we said a whole lot of shit that night -I said a bunch of fucking things I shouldn’t have- but- god Paige you didn’t even give it a day. I came to find you less than 24 hours later and you were gone,” she chokes on the last word and Paige wants nothing more than to cradle the younger woman in her arms, take away her pain and shield her from ever feeling anything like it again.

“Az-”

“And if you’d just waited -just given me a little bit of time,” Azzi continues as if she hadn’t even heard the blonde attempt to speak, “then maybe you would have known that I wasn’t saying no forever. Just for a little bit, just for then. But you just- you left.”

“You said a lot more than just no,” Paige says frustratedly.

It’s Azzi’s turn to look guilty and Paige can almost see the memories of that night flashing in her mind, “I know that but I would’ve taken it all back if you’d just waited.”

“How could I have known that?” Paige whispers and she’s not sure if she’s defending herself from Azzi or from that voice in her head -the one she’d done her best to silence- that’s always wondered if she’d made a mistake immediately leaving for Dallas the morning after.

“You couldn’t have,” Azzi says softly, sounding almost defeated, “the same way that you don’t know that I won’t say no again. The same way that I don’t know if you’ll leave again,” she sighs as she sits down next to Paige, “but that’s life Paige. We don’t know what’s gonna happen in the future and we can’t- we can’t predict what someone else will do. All we can do is try and trust ourselves and trust each other.”

“You make it sound so easy,” Paige nudges her shoulder and Azzi lets out a short laugh.

“I know it’s not. Trust me, I know it’s hard. There’s about five hundred different voices in my head saying that I should stop waiting or whatever it is I’m doing right now. That I should let you go for good. That even if you end this whole Liberty bullshit, you’ll still leave me -leave us- eventually.”

“But?” Paige presses and she feels like she’s teetering on the edge of a cliff, like the next words out of Azzi’s mouth will determine whether she falls or flies.

“But,” Azzi breathes out as she turns to look at Paige with a slightly wistful smile, “there’s this one voice in my head, clearer than all the rest that says I should trust you -that I should believe in us- that maybe we just need to get through this one last hurdle to get back to each other,” the younger woman reaches out to squeeze Paige’s hand gently before she stands up, “I think you just need to find that voice too P.”

“I’m scared Az,” Paige says softly.

“I am too,” Azzi admits as she leans down to brush the blonde’s tears away with her thumb, “trusting is really fucking scary. I get it. but maybe- maybe it would be a little less scary if we did it together.”

Paige shudders when Azzi presses a kiss to her forehead, the brunette's lips lingering long after she’s embedded every unspoken thought into it. She pulls away almost reluctantly, patting Paige’s cheeks lightly before starting to walk back towards the door.

“Azzi,” the blonde calls out, mouth going a little drying when Azzi turns over her shoulder, “don’t go to dinner with Clémence.”

Go with me. Let me take you and Stephie out to dinner instead.

“Don’t hold on to the deal with the Liberty,” Azzi says quietly in lieu of an actual answer, “say you’ll stay.”

Paige falters, “Az I-”

“I already told you P,” there’s a sad smile on Azzi’s face before she turns away, “you can have time or you can have us but you can’t have both. Not right now.

“Azzi-”

“I hope you find that voice soon Paige and I hope it leads you back to me.”

***

August 2032

Paige is standing in a corner -a dirty Shirley in her hand- cackling at a joke that Cam had just made when she sees her entering and the laughter dies in her throat. Cam notices the change immediately, her eyes tracking Paige’s gaze until they land on the brunette who’s being pulled into a series of congratulatory hugs by players from other countries.

“So where did y’all go last night?” the LA Sparks center asks casually

“What?” Paige asks distractedly, her eyes narrowing when she notices a familiar French player inching towards the door for a hug of her own.

“You and Azzi,” Cam clarifies and Paige swallows at the mention of her name, “y’all disappeared while we were all still celebrating. Lowkey felt like we were back in Belarus all over again when y’all just kept going off somewhere with each other,” the taller woman shoots Paige a teasing grin, “so where’d you go?”

“Just uh- just needed some air,” Paige bites her lip at the lie.

Because the truth is that once they’d left the hotel bar, and they’d practically pounced on each other -from the elevator till they’d made it to Paige’s hotel room- they’d barely come up for air. The feeling of each other’s lips and bare skin was more intoxicating than any drink they’d consumed -maybe even more intoxicating than the Olympic Gold medal they’d finally won together earlier that day- and neither of them seemed to care about unimportant matters such as breathing.

Cam quirks an eyebrow as she sips at her drink, “if you say so Bueckers.”

“I do say so,” Paige retorts before dislodging herself from the wall she’d been leaning against, eyes still tracking every moment Azzi made, “we should- we should go say hi.”

“We should, should we?” Cam smirks but the sweet angel she is, she falls into step easily with Paige as they start walking across the room.

The banquet hall is buzzing with players dancing and drinking and mingling with each other. Now that the basketball portion of the Olympics was over, they’d all returned from being fierce competitors playing for their country, to being the friendly co-players they all were. Laughter and chatter fills the air as teammates and rivals alike, reconnect at the FIBA-sponsored party that had almost all of the women’s basketball players participating in Bris2032 in attendance.

“Azziiii,” Cam squeals as the two of them finally reach the Valkyries superstar who’d just finished hugging Gabby.

Azzi grins when she sees Cam but it slips a little when she notices Paige next to her. She’s quick to fix it, eyes going back to Cam as she pulls the taller woman into a hug. Something pinches against Paige’s heart and she forces herself to look away; her gaze landing instead on where Gabby has walked away from the three of them to slip an arm around Marine’s waist. Paige stares wistfully at the scene -at the way Marine relaxes into Gabby’s touch as she continues whatever conversation she’d been involved in. It’s all she wants and instinctively, her eyes wander back to Azzi.

“Hey,” Paige says slowly as Azzi lets go of Cam, disappointment coursing through her veins when all she gets is a nod of acknowledgement.

“So Azzi I was just asking Paige here, where y’all disappeared to last night?” Cam asks with a teasing tone.

Azzi blanches as the question, “oh um- I- uh I wanted to go check in on Stephie.”

“And you needed Paige to come with you for that?”

A distinctly pink hue begins at the base of Azzi’s neck, climbing up until it tints her cheeks, “I was a little tipsy and uh- just wanted the support I guess.”

Paige almost snorts at the response. Azzi had been way beyond tipsy and Paige wouldn’t have been any support, considering she’d been maybe two drinks away from blacking out. But she supposes, Cam probably doesn’t need to know that and she definitely doesn’t need to know what it had led to.

“Interesting,” the taller blonde looks between the two women as she takes another sip of her drink, “Paige just said y’all needed some air.”

“I mean that- that was definitely a part of it too. The bar was getting pretty hot-” this time Paige does snort at Azzi’s answer which gets her an amused look from Cam and a very unamused look from the brunette herself.

Cam puts her hands up in surrender, “listen if Paige says y’all needed air and if you say you needed to go see Stephie, I believe you,” she says but that cheeky grin on her face says the exact opposite.

“Speaking of Stephie. It’s uh- it’s almost her bedtime and I should uh- I should call my Mom so I can say goodnight,” Azzi manages a tightlipped smile towards the two other women before she disappears into the crowd, heading towards the balcony.

Paige hesitates for a second before she turns to face Cam and that shit-eating, knowing smirk on her friend’s face almost has her giving into her pride and swallowing the words she’s about to say. Almost.

“I’m uh- I’mma go to,” she stumbles out.

“Oh of course,” Cam grins sly, “bet Azzi needs some more support huh?”

Paige shakes her head, flashing Cam her middle finger -and rolling her eyes when it causes the taller woman to laugh- as she follows after Azzi. The chill Brisbane air swarms around her as she steps out into the balcony. Azzi’s standing right by the railing, her phone held right above her as she facetimes her daughter. Paige catches on quickly to the conversation, realizing that the little girl is telling her mother about how Tim had let her have ice-cream after dinner.

“Stephanie Katarina Fudd,” Paige hears Tim’s voice echo through the phone as Stephanie’s eyes go wide on the screen, “I thought it was gonna be our little secret?”

She holds in a laugh, leaning back against the door, as the little girl splutters trying to justify her tattle-taling, “it’s Mama, Pops. I can’t hide things from my Mama.”

Tim scoffs but there’s no genuine irritation to it, “that’s the last time I give you ice-cream.”

Stephanie shoots him an unimpressed look, “you say that all the time Pops and then you give me ice-cream anyways.”

“She’s got you there,” Katie choruses from the back and Paige watches as she high-five her grand-daughter.

And she doesn’t quite know what that pang in her chest means, but she’s felt it every time she’s seen Stephani and the Fudds over the course of the Olympics. The Fudds had come to Brisbane -of course they had- and every time Paige caught sight of them in the stands or watched them from the corner of her eyes, it felt like something was stinging against her rib cage. They’d all had custom #35 Azzi jerseys and their cheers were louder than every other voice in the arena any time Team USA did anything and after each win, they’d been the first people down the stairs, ready to hug envelope Azzi in a hug. At the forefront of it was Stephanie, who’d ran into her mother’s arms at lightning quick speed and Paige had watched -hoping she was being at least somewhat conspicuous- as Azzi had spun the little girl around.

It wasn’t that the Fudds ignored Paige. In fact they’d made it a point to come over to her right after to wrap her up amidst themselves. Stephanie had come over too, her smile shy as she’d congratulated Paige on the wins. The little girl clearly didn’t quite remember their interaction from all-star last year -her eyes regarding Paige almost like a stranger- and the blonde consoles herself with the fact that Stephanie’s only four. Four year olds weren’t known for remembering things that had happened when they were three. Still, it hurt a little bit considering Paige thinks of that interaction more than she probably should.

But even though she’d still gotten the hugs and the smiles and the congratulations, it wasn’t quite the same, wasn’t anything like she’d picture during the conversations of we’ll get customized 5+35 Bueckers-Fudd jerseys for the Olympics she’d once had with Tim and Katie.

“Alright Stephie-Bean, Mama’s gonna head back into the party-” Paige refocuses on the conversation just in time to hear Azzi get cut off by her rather dramatic daughter.

“I can’t bel-ieve you went to another party without me Mama,” Stephanie drags out the words, “no Mama-good-night-kisses cause she pick party-time over Stephie time.”

The little girl’s joking but Paige can tell by the way it makes Azzi pause for a second -her shoulder stiffening just a little bit- that it’s hit a nerve. She wants to soothe it away, wants to wrap her arms around her from behind, hitch her chin over her neck and take away all of Azzi’s worries. And that bitter thought -the one that seems to surface every time her heart beats a little faster for the brunette, the one that had filled her head when she’d woken up next to the younger woman earlier this morning- takes birth in her head again. The thought she could have done all of that -would have the right to do it- if only Azzi had just said yes.

“I’ll make it up to you Stephie-bean,” she hears Azzi promise, “tomorrow, just you and me okay sweetheart? All of my time’s gonna be yours.”

Stephanie’s face immediately brightens up, “okay Mama,” she says happily as she blows a kiss to the screen, “love you Mama. Good night.”

“Good night sweet girl. I love you more,” Azzi choruses back, waving at the screen before she cuts the call.

It takes her a moment to turn around and Paige watches as Azzi takes in a deep breath, a subtle smile on her face as she takes in the Brisbane skyline. When she does finally turn around, surprise filters onto her expression at seeing the blonde standing there.

“Hey,” Paige whispers nervously, stuffing her hands into the pocket of her pants.

Azzi looks at her for a moment, “hi.”

They stand there rigidly, letting the tension -a completely different kind than the one that had encompassed them last night- simmer between them. It’s almost like they're daring each other to say something, to address the elephant in the room.

Azzi breaks first, “something you wanted to say?”

“Just wanted some air,” Paige says, cringing a little bit at the cliché line that she’s now used twice in one night.

“Right,” Azzi nods, moving towards the door, “guess I’ll leave you to it then.”

Her voice is tinged with an iciness that sets Paige on edge. They haven’t been like this in a while and she’d thought they’d let go of the resentful exes gimmick they’d had going on for the first couple of years. But the hardness in Azzi’s tone suggests that it’s back with vengeance tonight.

“Az-” Paige calls out.

“What?” Azzi asks loudly, biting her lip when the harshness of it almost makes the blonde stumble back, “sorry I-”

But before she can apologize, Paige finds herself retaliating with the same hardness in her own tone, “what’s your fucking problem?”

“My problem?” Azzi reels back, eyes flashing with anger, “are you seriously asking me that?”

“Yes. That’s clearly what I asked,” Paige retorts.

Azzi laughs devoid of emotion, “I woke up to an empty bed this morning and you’re asking me what my fucking problem is?”

Guilt inches it’s way up Paige’s spine but it pales in comparison to the anger that flickers in the pit of her stomach, “oh that’s rich coming from you.”

“Excuse me?”

“Is that not exactly what you did last time we fucked,” the profanity tastes acetous as it falls through Paige’s lips because it sounds wrong, like she’s insulting the sanctity of their relationship, no matter how broken it might be.

“No it’s not,” Azzi nostrils flare, “I told you I was leaving. I had the common fucking decency to let you know. I didn’t just sneak out.”

Paige rolls her eyes, “oh spare me the semantics. It’s all the same shit at the end of the day. We both left.”

“Oh fuck you Paige,” Azzi snarls as she tries to leave but Paige is quicker, fingers wrapping around her wrist to stop her.

And everything she’d been prepared to say dies in her throat because now they’re too close, chests heaving in harmony as their matching glares turn into something else. Paige’s eyes fall to Azzi’s lips, breath hitching when the brunette’s tongue darts out for a second to wet them. She tugs on Azzi’s wrist experimentally, pleased when there’s little hesitation and the younger woman lets herself be pulled closer. The air is electric with want as they lean in slowly, their noses brushing against each other as they wait for each other to make a move, to close the distance.

But then there’s the sound of someone clearing their throat, followed by someone else coughing and the two of them spring apart like they’ve been burned.

“Jesus Az, careful!” Jana’s concerned voice makes Paige’s ears perk up and she follows the Egyptians line of sight to see that Azzi had moved back so fast that she’d fallen back against the balcony railing.

“I’m fine,” Azzi says hurriedly but the shake in her voice betrays that she’s anything but.

“Are you?” Paige turns to find Aaliyah watching them with the wary gaze of someone who’s been around them and their bullshit far too long, “because uh- we can hear y’all yelling from inside.”

Azzi’s eyes shoot up, panic evident on her face, “you heard us? Did you- could you hear what we said?”

Paige scoffs loudly, “oh right yeah because that would be really fucking bad wouldn’t be it Azzi? God forbid anyone found out you fucked me.”

And she doesn’t even know why she’s arguing -honestly she’s just as embarrassed at the idea of their teammates and rivals and everyone else in between actually overhearing their argument- but it pinches a nerve and she pointedly looks away from Azzi’s ashen face.

“You guys fucked?” Paige flinches at how loud Jana is and Aaliyah lets out a low groan.

“Jana,” the Canadian warns, pinching the bridge of her nose.

“Sorry but like,” Jana looks back and forth between Paige and Azzi, dropping her voice, “y’all fucked?”

Paige sighs, feeling drained as she leans back against a pillar for support, “that’s what I said yes.”

If possible, Jana’s eyes get even wider, “so- so what does that mean for the two of you? Are you- are y’all gonna get back together?”

Azzi looks at Paige.

Paige looks at Azzi.

And it’s like they’re both imploring each other to answer Jana’s question and to answer it right.

“It means nothing,” it’s the wrong answer and Paige knows it even before she says it -can tell by the way Azzi barely reacts that she knows Paige doesn’t even really believe herself- but she thinks maybe they’re not quite ready to get it right. Not yet.

“Well there you go,” Azzi says quietly, shrugging nonchalantly at Jana, “it means nothing.”

Paige flinches at the repetition of her own words, looking away as Azzi starts walking towards the door again. The brunette’s shoulder brushes against the older woman’s -sparks igniting around them- and she hesitates.

“It means nothing,” Azzi repeats, her voice a longing whisper only meant for Paige’s ears, “but maybe it could’ve meant something. If you’d stayed.”

***

June 2033

Paige is sulking in her room -watching film to distract herself from the images of Clémence, Azzi and Stephie together from last night that her brain is hellbent on conjuring up- when her pity party is broken up by the sound of her doorbell. She has the urge to ignore it, to stay curled up in the same position she’s been in all day. It’s a rather pathetic way to have spent one of her rare days off but it’s the only thing she’d felt like doing. But then whoever’s outside her door starts to press the bell longer and Paige huffs -irritated by the loudness of it- as she forces herself out of bed.

She’s not sure who she was expecting. Perhaps Jana, who’d caught on rather quickly to what was happening between her two former teammates and had been making somewhat of an attempt to help fix it. Maybe Colleen, here to knock some sense into her on Azzi’s behalf. Or maybe even Tessa, who Paige had learned in the most awkward way, knew about them when the former Gamecock had made a teasing remark about the two of them the next practice, not knowing what had transpired two nights before. When both Paige and Azzi had immediately tensed, instead of blushing or rolling their eyes, Tessa had been perceptive enough to understand something had gone wrong. She’d been trying to help Jana ever since and Paige half expects it to be her at the door with words of wisdom and comfort alike.

Who she isn’t expecting is Tim Fudd.

His wife, she would’ve understood. After all Katie had done exactly that before and it was in the older woman’s nature to meddle just a little bit. Her husband, on the other hand, tended to stay as far out of things as possible. He could be a hovering coach and whenever Azzi’s spirits were low, he’d be there with a ridiculous dad joke and arms outstretched for a big bear hug. But when it came to his daughter’s personal life, Tim Fudd did his best not to interfere.

Tim smiles at Paige when she opens the door, one hand holding up a bottle of whiskey with a grin on his face while his other hand is hidden behind his back. He rolls his eyes fondly when he notices the skeptical look Paige shoots at his liquor of choice before he reveals the premade bottle of dirty Shirley he’s been hiding behind his back.

“Tsk tsk,” he grins mockingly, “what would the fans say if they knew their big bad rizzler can’t drink anything but a sweet cocktail?”

Paige shakes her head as she steps aside to let the man inside, “just cause I don’t drink cheap whiskey, doesn’t mean I don’t drink anything other than cocktails.”

“Cheap?!” Tim guffaws as the accusation, “I’ll have you know this is a Macallan.”

“You know that hat means nothing to me right,” Paige says as she follows his lead into her kitchen.

It’s almost foreign having somebody else in her space. Since Drew had left -rather hesitantly after seeing his sister’s condition- the house had been devoid of anyone else but Paige. Jana had tried to invite herself over a couple of times but it had gone in vain when Paige had chosen solitude over any company. It’s not that she particularly wants to be alone, it’s that she thinks -no, she knows- that there’s only two people who can cure this dreadful loneliness that feels like it’s become an innate part of existence.

“Sit,” Tim says as he rummages through Paige’s cupboards for two glasses.

Hesitating for a split second, Paige does as she's told, “did Azzi send you?”

“Are you hoping she did?’ Tim asks pointedly as he places two glasses one top of the counter, filling one with whiskey and other with dirty Shirley.

Paige swallows as she accepts the drink from his hand, “nah,” lies, “ just uh- just feels like something she’d do.”

Tim looks at her for a minute as he takes a sip of his whiskey.

“She didn’t send me,” he says finally and Paige tries to mask the tinge of disappointment his words send through her by taking a large swig of her shirley.

“This tastes like shit,” she grimaces, wiping her mouth with the back of hand.

“That premade stuff usually does. It’s that easy shit you know? The things that just exist without you doing any work. Just doesn’t hit the same as the harder stuff,” Tim says slowly as he leans back against his chair, a clear double meaning in his words.

“You’re using alcohol as a metaphor? So I guess Katie sent you then?” Paige manages a half-smile but she feels her stomach churn at the implication of what he’d just said.

Tim laughs, “it was my idea actually.”

“Her meddling rubbing off on you?” Paige quirks an eyebrow.

Tim shakes his head, “I’m not here to meddle. Just wanted to tell you a story.”

Paige sighs, “so you are here to meddle then.”

Tim ignores her, fiddling with the glass of whiskey in his hands, “did you know Katie and I almost didn’t end up together?”

Paige stares at the older man in shock. Maybe she shouldn’t be so surprised; relationships were complicated after all. But for all the years she’d known Tim and Katie, they’d always been just that. TimAndKatie. The epitome of stableness that had stood strong amongst all the other relationships Paige had watched break down one by one.

“Don’t look so shocked,” Tim says lightly when he notices how wide Paige’s eyes have gotten, “everyone makes mistakes. We’re all capable of doing dumb shit that almost makes us lose everything we’ve ever loved.”

Paige gulps, “what- what did you do?”

“I left,” Tim says slowly.

“You left?” the familiar words make Paige nauseous and she wonders if that slightly regretful look on Azzi’s dad’s face is echoed on her own.

“It was a couple months into our relationship and Katie and I had a huge fight. It was about her not letting me make a decision about Azzi,” Tim explains and the similarity of the situation almost makes Paige want to block her ears.

“It was something small, something stupid. Probably nothing that even mattered cause I don’t even remember it. But I remember how I felt. I was really fucking mad but more than anything I think- I think I was scared. Because that argument, it was a remind that even though I loved her so fucking much, Azzi wasn’t mine. Not yet. And that if I lost Katie, I’d lose her too. The idea of losing Katie was scary enough but losing both of them? I didn’t know how to deal with that,” Tim's voice shakes, like he’s relieving his biggest fears and Paige feels her own eyes start to water; his words settling salt in her still-raw open wounds.

“And it got so heated and we were yelling all this bullshit at each other that eventually I just- I didn’t know what else to do and I just- I started to leave. And Azzi- I guess we were so loud we woke her up- she- she saw me leaving,” there’s an unfamiliar grave look on the normally jovial old man’s face as he reminisces that night, “she ran down the stairs and threw herself at my knees begging me not to go but I- I was so mad and so fucking scared that I walked away anyways.”

“How- how did you fix it?” Paige asks, her voice almost pleading as she wipes away the droplets of water running freely down her cheeks.

“Well not immediately that’s for sure,” Tim cracks a smile, trying to lighten the mood, “took me a little bit of time to pull my head out of my ass and when I finally did, Katie wasn’t so quick to forgive me for it either. And it wasn’t about her or me or us, it was about Azzi. The first time I showed up, she didn’t even let me in. Said she could only let me through that door again if I could promise to stay. Because Azzi had seen me leave once and she wasn’t gonna let her see it again.”

“It must’ve killed you,” Paige whispers, her stomach twisting in knots, “the guilt of hurting her.”

Tim nods, “it did but I think- or at least I hope I’ve made up for it now.”

“You have,” Paige reaches over to squeeze his arm gently, “how did you get her to forgive you?”

“Simple,” Tim places his own hand over hers as he continues, “we talked it out. I explained all my fears to her. How scared I was of losing her, of losing Azzi. And she- she understood because she was scared too, scared of losing me, scared of Azzi losing me. In the end we were both scared of the same thing but all of that got a whole lot less scary when we faced it together.”

Maybe it would be a little less scary if we did it together

“How did you get over it,” Paige asks, almost desperately, “the fear of losing them? How did you move past that?”

Tim smiles wistfully, “time. Not time apart but time together. It wasn’t easy taking that first step, facing that fear but I knew if I wanted them, it was what I was gonna have to do. And I had to trust Katie, that if I stayed, she’d stay.”

“And she stayed,” Paige says softly.

“Yeah she did,” this time, Tim’s grin breaks through his entire, “and the more time she stayed, the more my trust in her grew until one day I just knew. I knew she wasn’t gonna leave ever again. Well, maybe she’s thought about it a couple of times like when I nearly burnt the house down tryna make cookies or when I accidentally tore a hole in our wall tryna hang up a photo frame.

Paige lets out a watery laugh as Tim winks at her, everything suddenly seeming a lot more simple than it had before the older man had walked through her door.

“I know it’s not quite the same for you and Azzi,” Tim continues slowly, “you guys have a history that Katie and I didn’t. You both have more reasons to be scared than the two of us did. But Paige, I’ve always thought you were it for my baby girl. From the moment she came back from USA camp and all she could talk about was you, I just knew.”

Paige can’t help the broken sob that escapes her lips and Tim immediately rounds the kitchen counter to wrap an arm around her shoulder.

“When she was pregnant with Stephie, she kept on asking for mint-choc chip ice cream. Said it was a craving or something. And she decorated everything for her in purple. All the baby clothes she bought were shades of purple,” he doesn’t quite say why Azzi did all of that but there’s a clear implication in his words.

And Paige thinks that probably, why she and Stephie are so similar, why they shared so many favorites, why the little girl had always felt like hers. Because Azzi had given a part of Paige to her daughter, even when she hadn’t had Paige herself.

“Katie and Azzi, they’re mine but I think- I think if maybe someone else had gotten to them first -someone who loved them just as much as I do- maybe there’s a chance things would be different but Paige,” Tim squeezes the younger woman gently, “I think Azzi’s always been waiting for you. Subconsciously at least. There’s never really been anybody elese for her. Her and Stephie, they’ve both always been waiting for you, they’ve both always been yours.”

“You mean that?” Paige asks croakily and she feels like she’s a teenager again, asking Tim to pinky promise that he’d like her box-dyed purple hair no matter what.

“I do,” Tim smiles as he looks at her, “and I think they’ll be yours forever. I think they want to be. You just have to say you’ll stay.”

#pazzi #azzi fudd #paige bueckers #wcbb

320 notes · View notes

namism · 3 days ago

Note

Oooo maybe a fluff/unspoken feelings piece w Kid??

i love | eustass kid

➳ categories: modern au, female reader whose stepbrother is killer

➳ warnings: lots of swearing

➳ word count: 1.5k

➳ summary: Something about your relationship with Eustass Kid is unexplainable, but it's the type of unexplainable that you're comfortable with, no matter how odd it may seem.

➳ notes: i'm sorry if this is too niche, i had a vision tho 😭 most of his personality is based on these headcanons. thanks for the request! ❤️

➳ cross-posted on ao3

"Shit. Bad date again?"

You can't see his face, but Kid has a shit-eating grin spread across his lips as he emerges from the driver's seat of his run-down pickup truck, a hand-me-down from your and Killer's uncle that Kid and his crew of metalheads use to drive to showcases in the city. He bangs the door closed, pockets his keys, then walks over to your seated ass on the curb.

"Shut up," you mutter. Kid sits beside you, and that's when you notice that he's holding a bottle of beer. He pops the cap open with his teeth, but you snatch it from his hands before he could take a sip. "You can't drink. It's late, and you're driving me home."

"It's just beer," he deadpans. Even then, he doesn't try to wrest the bottle from your hands, instead choosing to watch you take a depressive swig. He chuckles. "How was your shitty date?"

You glare.

"You asshole— how many times do I have to tell you that it wasn't a date? The beer tastes awful, by the way."

Kid is taken aback by your statement more than your aggressive manner of shoving the bottle toward his chest. The liquid sloshes around the bottle upon impact, and at that moment, the smell of bitter hops reaches his nose. He places it down on the asphalt and clasps his hands together.

"I got it from your brother. Blame him," he says. Your expression turns sour at the mention of Killer. "I would never risk a DUI while driving you home."

"Prince Charming," you tease. Kid is your stepbrother Killer's best friend, who you happen to be close with after many tag-alongs to gigs and shows in your city. Killer is convinced that you're closer to Kid than him with the frequency of your meet-ups and last-minute pick-up requests, and at the rate you're going, he's kind of right.

Kid sneers.

"Let's talk about your shitty date."

You roll your eyes.

"It wasn't a date."

"It looked like it to me. You don't wanna give the dude a chance? He sounded like a nice guy."

"Never in a million years. Anyone within a ten-mile radius from him would know that you're lying through your teeth right now." Pulling your knees to your chest, you gently lay your head on top of them. "I rejected him. He ran out of the diner as fast as he could. Thought everybody was pitying him because his ego couldn't take a rejection."

Kid smiles again, but this time wider. You went out with a guy tonight because you were too kind to reject his past advances, which more often than not attracted public attention when you didn't want them to. You tried to turn him down a couple of times before, but he couldn't get the hint. When he asked you out yesterday to dinner, you decided to reject him once and for all, with Kid and Killer's support.

Now that you've rejected the guy, Kid feels fucking fantastic. He hated him with his guts because he wouldn't leave you alone. Still, he loves to tease the fuck out of you, loves to play dumb and provoke you further, just to spark your enraged reactions because you look like a cute barking puppy.

Swirling his tongue in thought, Kid decides to pat your head with his big rough hand, ruffling your hair just a bit as he praises you.

"That's my girl. The next time he approaches you, try kicking his balls."

"Wouldn't that count as assault?"

"He harasses you, so what's the deal? Tomato, tomato; potato, potato. Defend yourself, please."

You laugh. "What the fuck?"

Grabbing the beer bottle, Kid rises from his seated position and offers you his hand. You stare at it, blankly.

"Come on, I'll take you somewhere you'll like."

You narrow your eyes at him.

"And where is that?"

"Answering would ruin the surprise. Just come with me, will ya?"

In the blink of an eye, you're Kid's passenger princess as he drives you to who-knows-where, an occurrence in your strange friendship that happens every so often when the both of you are left alone with a car full of gas. You roll down the window and make sure that no vehicle is passing by before sticking your hand out, feeling the wisps of cool air nip at your skin. When you move your head past the window, Kid hooks his fingers on your belt loops and pulls you back down.

"Fuck no, sit back down. No head-sticking, only your hands."

"But—"

"Your brother is gonna kill me if I bring you home headless. Hands. Only."

You stick your tongue out at him, but Kid only rolls his eyes. He lets you do whatever you want as long as you're not a second close to dying, often looking at you go wild in the passenger seat as he drives.

Minutes later, the truck slows down to a parking lot, a small rink built right in front of it.

You're the first to hop off, approaching the rink with blown irises as string lights scatter about to set a mood of warmth. It's not any other rink; it's a roller rink, perfect for rollerskating, perfect for two people to share a moment of intimacy.

"I'd much prefer iceskating, but this will do."

Kid holds up two skates in his hands, one of which seems to fit you nicely in a color you love.

You get on the rink as soon as you can, planting your feet on the ground as he hooks his fingers yet again on the loops of your belt. You sneer at him as he adds to your weight.

"Well, aren't you a big baby? Always leeching off me, never letting go," you say.

"Blah, blah, blah, it's a precautionary measure."

"You and precautionary measures don't go together."

Kid grabs you by the waist and turns you around, pushing you up against him. Your feet give up, but his hold on you is firm.

"Just like oil and water?"

You hit his chest.

"I hate you! Don't scare me like that!"

"That's what you get, brat." His lips morph into a grin while you hit him with weak punches. He laughs at your helplessness. "You get surprised by the simplest things. What I did right there was romantic for anyone but you."

"That was not romantic."

"What did I just say?"

"I hate you," you mutter. He laughs softly.

"Do me a favor and get yourself a guy who can treat you like that," he says. Your stomach turns, and your eyes fall to the ground. "You got a problem?"

"No, I don't."

You abruptly bump into him in an attempt to knock him over his feet, but he remains standing. At that moment, he traps you within his arms through a big embrace.

"So what's the hold up? Still stubborn?"

You punch his bicep as you squirm in the hug.

"You know why," you tell him.

"I do?"

"Ugh..."

You stop wriggling around. Kid feels something coming up.

You place your hands on his chest.

"You know why I don't want to date anyone else. You know."

"I know," he whispers. "So why can't you just say it out loud?"

"It's not that I can't say it— it's just..." You suck in a deep breath. "Is now the perfect time for it?"

"I don't know."

He guides your hands from his chest to his face, allowing you to cup his cheeks and touch them gently.

"But if you don't say it now, then when will you?"

A breathy laugh escapes your lips as you look at him. This isn't how you expected your day to turn out, but you aren't mad about it.

You like Kid.

You always have, and you know he likes you, too.

"I'll just show it to you."

You pull his face closer to yours and meet his lips. Kid leans further down to deepen your kiss, but he stays sweet and gentle, a complete 180 degrees from what people usually expect from him. The kiss is slow, like you've been meaning to do it for a long time and you don't want to rush the movement. Kid matches your pace perfectly, and he lasts longer than expected as he doesn't seem breathless when you pull away.

"Was that demonstration good enough?" you ask.

"No." He shakes his head. "I think I need another."

You hit his chest another time.

"Ouch, baby. You hurt my feelings."

As Kid feigns discomfort, you pull him close to your face again and peck his cheek.

"Do I have to say it?" you ask. "I love..."

He smiles.

"Nah, fuck that. Just show it to me. Took us long enough, honestly." He pinches your cheek. "I finally got you."

When he lets go of your waist, you race around the rink while he tries to catch you.

Something about your relationship with Eustass Kid is unexplainable, but it's the type of unexplainable that you're comfortable with, no matter how odd it may seem.

95 notes · View notes

midnighthazee · 2 days ago

Text

Greenridge ABO Series

Series Masterlist Masterlist

Warnings: explicit language, mentions of past trauma (it's not for the weak, but I don't want to spoil the chapter. sorry), SMUT 18+ MDNI, fingering, oral, p in v (wrap it up pls), FLUFF

WC: 4360

Chapter 24

One Month Later…

The house had finally been fixed, the boys helping out the construction crew in efforts of speeding up the process. You all officially moved back in yesterday evening, enjoying dinner and a movie in your new living room. It was perfect timing since a few of the others were getting antsy and irritable in the closer proximity the cabin offered. It was at least half the size of the main house so you were practically living on top of each other.

When the others started their arguing, you would usually seek out Chan. He would use his dominance to diffuse the situation or just make them separate for the rest of the day. His calming presence kept you relaxed though, especially since he was quiet and always working on something. So you could usually be found sitting in his lap, laying your head in his lap, or reading books in his office while he worked.

He enjoyed your company, making him feel warm and fuzzy inside. He usually tried to work where you were touching him in some way, even if it was just your legs draped over his lap. He was definitely making up for the lack of time you two didn’t have initially while he was locked up.

And when Chan wasn’t home, you were restless. The house rebuilding sometimes required his oversight in person and he didn’t always take you. Whether you were asleep when he left or busy with the others at the time, you usually missed him after a short while. Felix kept you company, his gentle nature quite nurturing. But when he and Jisung argued over who was cheating in a game, you retreated to Chan’s room, opting for some reading or games on your phone to pass the time.

Morning time meant a full spread for breakfast. You woke up next to Seungmin, having slept in his room last night after he complained you were always sleeping in Chan’s bed. You felt bad, realizing you probably should be more fair to everyone. So you cuddled up next to him and fell fast asleep.

He was nuzzling his face into your hair, kissing you as you came to.

“Morning..” he mumbles against your skin.

You smile, his morning voice sending chills up your spine. “Morning.”

Seungmin tightens his grip with the arm draped over your waist, his body flushed with yours. You turn your head to face him and he immediately plants his lips on yours. You moan into the kiss, having missed his touch.

“You smell so good,” he notes.

You giggle as he kisses down your neck. He gets up and moves down in the bed, lifting your nightgown and pulling your panties down.

“Minnie…” you rasp.

“Yes, darling?” he teases, kissing your lower abdomen.

“Mmmm,” you close your eyes as his fingers skim over your thighs.

He ducks his head, licking your sensitive heat delicately. Your breath catches in your throat and you arch your back. He smirks, loving how reactive you are.

He licks with more intent, swirling around your clit and teasing your entrance. You're already pooling, your juices coating his tongue. He groans at the taste.

“Have you always been this sweet?” he asks.

You steal a glance and catch his eyes looking right at you, his pupils blown. Lust took over as he prodded your entrance with his tongue. He moved it in and out, making your head fall back onto the pillow. Your whole body felt like it was on fire - like electricity was flowing through you - feeling just how close you were already.

Seungmin slipped a finger in and began thrusting it, coaxing a moan from your mouth.

“Such pretty little sounds.” Seungmin coos, sucking on your clit once more.

“Minnie…” you whine, your fingers twisting into his hair.

He slips a second finger in, curling them to hit your sweet spot. He moves them faster, pushing you over the edge. You grip the sheets with your free hand, back arching as you come undone. Moans escape your lips as you cum. Seungmin drinks your juices like he has been in the desert for the past week.

Crawling up your body, Seungmin kisses his way up your body as you come down. He plants his lips on yours and you taste just how sweet you were. He looks down at you with adoring eyes and you melt.

“Let’s go eat, yeah?” Seungmin asks with a peck to your lips.

He climbs off the bed and you sit up.

“What about you?” you ask.

“I’m good. I just wanted to watch you.” He winks before retreating into his bathroom.

He returns with a rag and wipes you up before throwing some clothes on. You find your panties and throw them on, not bothering to go change in your room before heading downstairs. You got a few ogling eyes from the boys with your current attire but you didn’t care.

You fixed your plate and brought it to the table, sitting between Jisung and Jeongin. You noticed their throats bob as you did, knowing they could probably smell your lingering arousal.

The doorbell rings and Chan goes to answer it. Turning in your seat, you see Doctor Quinn come in. She was holding flowers and a bottle of wine.

“Hey!” She cheers. “I brought a little housewarming gift to celebrate the remodel. Oh, it looks amazing! And I love that tile.”

“Y/n picked it out.”

“Well, you have amazing taste. I should redo my kitchen and have you pick my tile.” She giggles, coming over to hug you.

She pauses for a second, and you swear you see her smile falter just a smidge. As quick as it happened, it was gone and she moved on to give everyone else a hug as well.

“How’s everyone doing? I assume we are all healed by now?” she questions.

Everyone nods, mumbling an ‘I’m okay’ or ‘I’m good’.

“Great. Y/n can I see you downstairs for a second? I have a… girl question.” She winks with a smile.

“Um, sure.” you say.

You follow her downstairs, of course into your favorite room that just so happened to remain unaffected by the blasts, and shuts the door. She turns to you and, while her face is pleasant, you can tell she’s serious.

“You smell different.” she notes.

“Well Chan marked me..maybe you’re smelling that?”

“I can definitely smell him and Minho on you, but that’s not it. Are you pregnant?”

“What!?” you exclaim.

“I’ve had my fair share of dealing with pregnant hybrids and you have the smell.” She says, gesturing for you to sit on the chair. “Have you had a heat since we last talked?”

“Yes.”

“Did any of them go into rut and mate with you?”

“Chan did.” you mutter.

She nods. “Did his rut or your heat continue after?”

“No…”

She smiles. “Usually that’s because the purpose of the mating worked. Would you be up for a blood test? It’s the quickest and most accurate way to tell?”

You blink at her.

“Y/n? Are you alright?” she asks, picking up on your elevated heart rate.

“I, uh…I can’t..I”

“It’s okay. Let’s just test you first. It could just be that something is off with everything going on. Don’t worry for now.” Doctor Quinn rubs your arm before going to grab the necessary supplies.

“Not again…” you mumble.

“Again?”

“Lewis…” you blink, focusing your sight on her. “He got me pregnant. It was my second heat, induced by his rut. Neither of us wanted to mate during that time but the instincts took over. And when…”

Tears begin to form in your eyes…

“It’s okay, y/n.” Doctor Quinn comforts.

“When he found out, I was three months along. He made the doctor do a pelvic exam…and when she confirmed it…” your head drops. “He beat me until it was dead.”

Doctor Quinn’s heart breaks. She pulls you into a hug, letting you sob into her chest. A faint knock came at the door and you attempted to collect yourself. Chan slowly opened the door, followed by Minho.

“Just checking on you. We could feel your distress.” Chan whispers.

Doctor Quinn looks to you for permission and you nod.

She gestures for them to come in and they close the door behind them. Coming to stand beside you and hold your hand, they listen intently while Doctor Quinn shares what you just told her. The boys were raging with fury, Minho having to take a walk outside even though it was starting to snow. Chan stayed behind, holding you close while Doctor Quinn took some blood.

“Explains why you freaked out on me last time when I asked for a pelvic exam.” Doctor Quinn gives you a sympathetic smile.

“Yeah…sorry about that.” you mumble.

“All good, dear.” she smiles, kissing the top of your head. “I’ll rush this and let you know as soon as I do.”

With that, Doctor Quinn left. Chan turned to you, a big grin on his face.

“What?” you ask wearily.

“I’m gonna be a dad?!” his face is lit up, the biggest smile you had ever seen from him graced his face.

You smiled, looking down at your fingers twiddling in your lap. “Yeah, I guess so.”

He pulled you into a tight hug, lifting you from the chair. You couldn’t help but laugh, letting yourself relax a little and enjoy the news…for now.

“Can we…wait on telling everyone. Just until she’s…confirmed it?” you ask.

“Of course, baby. Whatever you’re comfortable with.” He says, rubbing your back. “I’m going to go check on Minho, okay?”

“He’s not…jealous is he?”

“Maybe a little.” Chan winked. “But he’s pissed about the Lewis thing. A similar thing happened to his mom.”

“Oh…” the word a mere breath on your lips.

“Go finish your breakfast. I’ll be back up there.” Chan kissed your forehead before planting a deep kiss to your lips.

You collected yourself, then headed upstairs to the boys. You forced a smile like everything was okay but of course they were suspicious. Respecting your privacy, the boys didn’t pry - they knew you would tell them when you were comfortable.

It was later that evening, you were in your room, curled up in your reading corner and coloring in a new coloring book Hyunjin bought for you. It was animal themed and you were currently coloring a picture of a fox. You had spent most of the day in here, dozing off for about an hour before waking up and continuing on.

There was a light knock on your door and you looked up to see Jisung peeking in.

“Hey.” he whispered.

“Hi.” you say in a small voice.

He comes in sitting next to you on the cushion you had, hugging one of your pillows. “You okay?”

You nod.

“You sure? You’ve been cooped up in here all day, and awfully quiet…”

“Sorry…” you mumble.

“You don’t have to apologize.” He sits up, facing you. “Talk to me.”

“I was just enjoying my space. Nothing’s wrong.”

Jisung gives you a disbelieving look. Then he grabs your hand and rubs circles on the top with his thumb. “Is this about earlier? With whatever freaked out Minho and Chan hyung?”

You don’t want to lie to him, but you don’t want to tell them yet. Not till you know for sure. Not till you’re sure it’s what Chan really wants. Maybe he was just acting excited to make you feel better. I mean it’s not like you ever talked about starting a family with any of them…

“I’ll tell you…just not right now.” you offer.

Jisung nods. He looks around the room, the silence between you deafening. When he looks back at you and you lift your head and meet his eyes.

“What?” you ask, smiling as you squirm under his intense stare.

He smirks, moving closer to you. “Maybe I can make you feel better…”

He leans in, kissing your jaw and down your neck. You giggle, the coloring book falling off your lap as you adjust your body to face him.

“You smell so good…” Jisung whispers, your foreheads touching.

Yeah, because you were pregnant. Doctor Quinn had informed you your scent would be more appealing now. And that you would also…taste sweeter too.

He kisses you, hard and desperate. Your crossed legs are pulled open and he crawls between them. You push your colored pencils away with one hand, the other cupping the side of his face.

As he kisses down your neck, your hands reach between the two of you and begin to undo his pants. He groans when you palm him through his briefs. He pulls away, lust in his eyes.

“I love you…” he pants.

You freeze, realizing he has never said it before. A few of the others have by now, but not Jisung. He caught you off guard, your mouth slightly open. He smirks, kissing you passionately, tongues intermingling.

He leans up, removing his shirt and pushing his pants down. You follow his lead, removing your own shirt and sliding your pants down. He stops undressing to help you pull your pants all the way off, throwing them to the side. Then he moves to sit on your cushion, pants around his ankles. He pulls you into his lap and you feel his hard length between your legs. You grind on him, your wetness coating his dick.

“Fuck.” he gasps.

He reaches his hand down and teases your clit. Your hands immediately go to his shoulders, bracing yourself. He smirks at you and you lean in to kiss him. He slips a finger inside, curling it deliciously before pulling it out. He sucks his finger while holding eye contact and you clench around nothing, whining.

“Shhh…I’m gonna make you feel so good.” Jisung coos.

He lines himself up and you sink down on him, throwing your head back. He attaches his lips to your nipple and sucks, thankful you weren’t wearing a bra today. You hold his head into your chest, grinding your hips in his lap. His moans were vibrating your nipples, further stimulating you.

He switches to the other nipple and you swear you’re about to cum any second. He squeezes your ass and you bite your lip. You tug his hair, tilting his head back, and begin bouncing. He watches, mesmerized by the sight of you.

You’re so close, maintaining tempo until you snap. Your orgasm washes over you and your legs tremble. You clench around his cock, moaning his name as you lay into his chest.

“Fuck, you’re so beautiful baby.” He says, stroking your hair.

“Mmm…I love you.” you say, looking up at him with hazy eyes.

He smiles so big, flipping you over so he can eat you out. He leans down, drinking you in and moaning at your sweet taste. It feels so good but you want him to cum too. You sit up, taking him by surprise, and move him so he’s lying back on the cushion.

Then you kneel between his legs and take him in your mouth. He groans, head falling back as he hugs one of your pillows. He bites his lip as you work your magic, teasing his tip with your tongue. You suck him hard and slow, edging him closer to release.

“Fuck, y/n.” he groans.

“I wanna taste you, baby…” you say, stroking him with your hand.

He whines, hips bucking at your dirty words. He would love to cum in that pretty mouth of yours. You take his entire length, feeling him hit the back of your throat. You suck and bob your head at a teasing tempo. Feeling mischievous and just wanting him to completely melt, you take a finger and coat in your own juices. Then, you prod at his tight hole, hearing him gasp.

You push past the little resistance and the guttural groan he releases makes you smirk. You thrust your finger in and out a few times before adding another.

“Fuck,” he hisses. “I’m gonna cum, baby.”

You curl your fingers, massaging his prostate just right, and sure enough…he’s cumming in your mouth. And it was a lot - so much you can barely keep it all in. You milk him dry, sucking him until he’s squirming to get away from the overstimulation. You pop off of him and swallow, a bit dripping from the corner of your mouth. You remove your fingers and crawl up his body.

His chest was heaving, eyes closed as you kissed his lips. Through the fog, he kisses you back, tasting himself on your tongue. He groans, hands cupping your face as he kisses you until he needs air.

Finally separating, you keep your foreheads together, panting.

“Fuck, that was something. You’re incredible.” he rasps.

You giggle and lay on his chest.

You lay like this for a while, until the smell of dinner begins wafting into your room.

“We should probably shower real quick.” you say, sitting up.

Jisung agrees and the two of you head into your shower. The two of you briefly washed up, putting your clothes back on and joining everyone downstairs for dinner. They all gave you knowing glances and you blushed. Jisung bumped you with his shoulder and you shook your head at him. You found yourself not caring that they heard you two. In fact, let them hear. It wasn’t anything new or something to be embarrassed about at this point.

It was the next afternoon, and you were training with Changbin. Some of the boys were currently doing weight training, while Changbin had you jogging around the property. It was so freeing to you now that you didn’t have to worry about Lewis or Reed lurking around in the forests surrounding the yard. You were safe and truly free.

Back at the house, you were drinking water when Chan called you inside. He led you into the med room, where you found Doctor Quinn waiting for you.

“Hi.” you say, looking to Chan.

He gives you a reassuring smile.

“Hello, dear.” she smiles. “I got the results back and thought I would deliver them in person.”

“Okay…” you say, worried something was wrong.

“It’s confirmed. You are pregnant. About five weeks.”

“Seriously?” Chan exclaimed with a big smile on his face. “Ahh, yes.”

He picked you up, spinning you around.

“I’m going to be a father!” he said, taking in your stunned expression and stepping back. “Y/n, you okay?”

“Yeah…it’s just…a lot. I never thought…” your eyes water. “I never thought I would get to…to be a mother.”

Chan pulls you into a hug, and you rest against his chest.

“You sure this is something you want?” You ask, looking into Chan’s eyes.

“Are you kidding? I’ve wanted this since I was a boy. You have quite literally just made me the happiest man on the planet right now.” He kisses your cheek. “But I should be asking you that.”

“Yes. Ever since I lost my first, I wanted to have one someday. It’s just I lost hope that I would.” You take his hands in yours. “But I want this.”

Chan wrapped his arms around you, nearly suffocating you in his embrace.You smile, allowing yourself to be happy.

“What about the boys?” you question. “How are they going to take the news?”

Thinking about it, you didn’t know if they would be happy or jealous. Being your soulmate, maybe they would want it to be theirs instead. But maybe they would just be happy as long as you were happy. Part of you wanted to have a child with each of them. But eight kids? That was a lot in general, nevermind what it would do to your body.

“They are going to be excited…” Chan shakes his head in disbelief. “You don’t have to worry, darling. This is a good thing.”

“I love you.” you blurt out, cheeks flushed.

His eyes widened at the confession. The sound of those words was like music to his ears - his new favorite melody.

“I love you too, baby.” He kisses you deeply, hugging you to his chest.

You smile up at him. “Should we tell them then?”

His eyes light up even more, as if that was possible. He grabs your hand and leads the way from the room. “

He calls upstairs for the remaining pack members. Then you two made your way outside to wait for them.

“Alright, listen up. We have an announcement to make.” Chan says.

Everyone is gathered around, Doctor Quinn hiding in the back.

“Doctor Quinn has just confirmed that our darling y/n is pregnant.”

At first there is silence, the shock taking over. Everyone processes a second before erupting in cheers and rushing over to hug the two of you. You laugh at their excitement and support, feeling such happiness that you don’t remember ever feeling. Chan was right…this is a good thing.

“That explains why you’ve been so clingy with Chan.” Jisung comments.

You pout at him.

“It’s not a bad thing…” Jisung tries to save himself.

Minho just hits him over the head.

“Congrats, y/n,” Minho says, kissing you.

“When are you due?” Changbin asks.

You look at Doctor Quinn.

“Oh, we didn’t even get to that part. Since you’re about five weeks, you are due around the end of June, first part of July.” She explains.

“Oh I can’t wait. I’m gonna teach him or her how to bake and how to dance.” Felix boasts.

“Slow down. What if they want to learn to paint?” Hyunjin counters.

“What are you going to name them? Have you thought of names yet?” Jeongin asks.

“Definitely should do Jisung. It’s a great name.” Jisung offers.

“Changbin is way better. Or Dwaekki.”

“Oh please, what if it’s a girl? Seungmin would be better… as it’s a unisex name.” Seungmin states with a smug expression.

“Fighting over our baby already.” Chan says amused as he kisses your temple.

You smile, shaking your head at them.

Later that night, Chan suggested a little campfire. The November air was nippy, the ground white from the evening snowfall. You were sitting next to Chan and Hyunjin, wrapped in a blanket and sipping hot chocolate. Minho insisted you try a smores since you had never had one before. You watched as he twisted the marshmallow over the fire. After it was perfect, he claimed, he takes a piece of chocolate, two halves of a graham cracker and sandwiches them with the marshmallow.

Then he slides it off the stick, and brings it to your mouth to try. You take a bite, moaning at how good it was.

“See…you’ve been missing out.” he smiled smugly.

“I have…” you take another bite.

Minho happily feeds you before making one of his own smores. Then you lay your head on Chan’s shoulder, basking in the warmth of everyone and the fire.

Jisung stands abruptly. “Okay…I’m betting it’s a girl.”

“Oh, no. It’s definitely going to be a boy.” Hyunjin counters.

“Put me down for a boy too!” Seungmin adds.

“Girl.” Jeongin says with a mouth full of smores.

“Me too!” Changbin adds.

“It’s going to be a boy!” Felix argues.

“Minho…tell them it’s going to be a girl…” Jisung turns to Minho who smirks.

“I’m betting on a boy actually…” Minho says.

“I think it’s going to be a girl…” you say.

“See! If y/n says girl, it’s going to be a girl.” Jisung argues.

“Bullshit. No one truly knows. Not even the ancestors.” Seungmin rolls his eyes.

“Chan’s the tie breaker. Chan hyung, what do you think?” Jeongin asks.

Everyone looks at Chan, and he chuckles.

“How much is the bet?”

“Fifty dollars?” Jisung asks everyone. They nod.

“Well in that case…” Chan looks up to the sky as if pondering. “I just want a healthy baby. I don’t care.”

“Oh, your vote doesn’t count anyway.” Jisung dismisses him with a wave.

The boys go back to arguing over the gender while Chan looks dumbfounded. You smile, leaning up and kissing him. He caresses your face before his hand moves lower, caressing your lower tummy where your little bundle of joy was growing. You place your hand over his, resting your head on his chest.

“Thank you for taking me in.” you whisper.

“Thank you for being so strong.” he says and you look up at him confused.

“I’m not strong…”

Chan scoffs. “Yes you are. You are the strongest person I know. You have had a tough past, life giving you so many hardships. And you didn’t let it tear you down. Instead you fought and pushed through, making it out on the other side. That, my love, makes you strong. And that’s why I’m going to spoil the absolute hell out of you for the rest of our lives.”

As Chan spoke, he rubbed your arm, kissing your forehead when he was done. You closed your eyes, tears falling down your cheeks. You received so much love from them, love you never thought you would ever get to experience. Love you had long since given up hope in finding. But here it was, all around you, and you weren’t going to waste it.

“Me too.” Hyunjin hugged you from where he sat next to you, kissing your temple.

Two strong arms came around you from behind the bench. “And I’m going to protect you with my life for as long as I live.”

You turn and smile up at Changbin, who pecks your face with kisses.

Giggling, you didn’t notice when everyone else stood up and came over to you. Soon you felt the weight of everyone as they all piled on you in a group hug. Minho wiped your tears before kissing your cheek.

“I love you all.” you say.

“We love you too.” Felix says.

“So much.” Hyunjin adds.

After years of feeling like you didn’t belong, you finally found your home - you belonged here at Greenidge. And you could now finally see a future for yourself. One surrounded by love and family.

TAGLIST:

@estella-novella @lxvxchxrlxttxbxrsx22-blog @butterflydemons @readr1221 @gaby105-skz @notevenheretbh1 @bah2004 @sinfulfic @bowsnbang @just-a-blackthorn-cookie @dreamerwasfound @motheraiya55 @m00njinnie @writeuntilthebitterend @jutdwae-flower @staytinyluv @emmxxsworld @galaxy4489 @wolfo2027 @iknow-uknow-leeknow @thatgirlangelb @fr34k4c1dr41n @stwq2349 @rylea08 @sang-09 @scarlet789 @hxnnielk @thecutiepieme @sillygoosegoose @ihttinniee @kaleigh-2002 @stvrrylove @tenshimara @xgridx @chanshugsaretherapy @maisyyyyyy @potentialgay @idkidkleeknow @cherry-erii

#stray kids abo #stray kids x reader #stray kids x y/n #han jisung x reader #lee felix x reader #bang chan x reader #kim seungmin x reader #yang jeongin x reader #hwang hyunjin x reader #lee minho x reader #seo changbin x reader #stray kids ot8 #skz ot8 #stray kids smut #stray kids

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farfromstrange · 2 days ago

Text

One Soul | Matt Murdock x Reader

Matt Murdock Masterlist

Summary: Matt gets hurt, badly, so you have to do the one thing you promised him you wouldn't: take him to a hospital.

Warnings: Angst, life-threatening injury, blood, temporary Major Character Death (he comes back, don't worry), mentions of CPR, religious imagery, conflicted relationship with religion, Reader is described as an atheist but Mad At God, prayer, hurt/comfort

A/n: This is a little angst piece I came up with yesterday. For me, personally, my atheism isn't always black and white. I know I don't believe in God, but I have found myself cursing him in the past because it was easier than cursing something I did not understand (like the death of a loved one). And I just know that being with Matt, chances are he will get himself hurt badly enough one day to the point he has to be brought to the hospital.

Read Me On AO3!

The heart monitor beside the bed signals at a steady eighty beats per minute. You follow the many lines of tubing from the machines to his frail body, your eyes lingering on the purple bruises adorning his pale skin—deadly pale, it is.

His cheeks, once so full of life, are hollow now. His eyes are swollen, his pretty lips cut, and there is blood stuck to his hair, still, soaking through the bandage they applied. You’ve never seen him so broken, so utterly weak and fragile that you wouldn’t dare touch him. The tears refuse to stop falling.

Years ago, you made a promise. You promised never to take him to a hospital, to protect his identity and him. Hell, he survived the collapse of Midland Circle, albeit with a scattered mind. He had broken bones and a broken spirit, locked away at Clinton Church for weeks, and still, he survived.

Tonight though, for the first time, you felt his heart stop. It wasn’t one of those ghastly nightmares that have been plaguing you ever since you locked Fisk away and he finally came back to you. It wasn’t a product of your imagination; you felt his heart stop. Hands covered in blood, you watched as the life drained from his eyes and he breathed out without breathing in again.

You swear you can still feel his ribs breaking underneath your fingertips. “Don’t do this to me,” you cried. “Don’t you dare do this to me, Matthew! I can’t lose you. Please, come back. Come back!”

And you prayed to a God you don’t believe in not to take him from you. You begged for a chance to hear his heartbeat again, just one last time even if it kills you.

You looked to the sky and swore you’d make a deal with the devil if you had to. You’d do anything for this man; this reckless, stupid force of a man you are so in love with that it hurts sometimes. You would’ve let God crucify you for the whole world to see just to get a chance to look at your beloved Matthew one last time, to know he’s alive. And perhaps God did answer your prayers, or maybe the CPR you’d never done before did its trick for he suddenly took a breath, and his heart started beating again.

You cried over his body like Mary over Jesus. You shielded him as if that would heal him, and he clung to you when he realized what had happened. He coughed, and he was bleeding, and you were paralyzed with the fear of losing him again.

What else were you to do but take him to a place where he could be fixed? If you hadn’t brought him here, he would have died. You shouldn’t feel guilty. It wasn't selfish. Yet, the fire within you keeps burning, and your soul keeps hurting as you watch him like a hawk, wondering what he’ll think of you once he wakes up—if he wakes up.

“I know I’m not… religious,” you murmur, eyes directed at the ceiling now. “I’m not a good Catholic, far from it. I’ve done things… well, you know. And I don’t pray. Matt prays. I don’t,” you say. “I just wanna understand why.”

Another tear rolls down your cheek. The coil in your throat is tight enough to strangle the air from your lungs. One of the shards of your broken heart is stuck, and now you’re bleeding. Your soul is laid bare for everyone to see.

It’s pathetic, you think, for an atheist to pray. Because you don’t believe, you never have. Matt believes. He has faith. You’re just… angry? Yes, you are furious, and even more now than ever you feel like it’s all a lie. Where’s the hope? Where’s the faith now?

“Why do you keep letting bad things happen to him?” you ask, your voice breaking. “All he’s ever done is try to please you because he thinks you gave him some kind of purpose. That accident… he thinks it happened for a reason. Going blind, losing every one. After all the hardships and the trouble he got himself into, he thinks he’s some kind of soldier. Even when he was at his lowest and stopped believing, he eventually came back to you. Like a dog on a leash.”

If Matt heard you, he’d be deeply offended. Religion is so important to him, but tonight, he almost died. He almost died before, but it never felt as real as it did tonight, and the thought haunts you like a restless ghost.

“I want to be supportive, I do. I mean, everyone’s beliefs are valid, in a way, but it almost killed him tonight. If you’re up there—if you’re truly listening—how can you just let that happen to someone you claim to love, God? I don’t–” You shake your head. “I just don’t understand.”

The heart monitor keeps beeping. The lights keep flickering. His chest keeps rising. No answer. The disappointment cuts you deep. Is there perhaps a part of you that does want to believe? Or are you just looking for someone, something, to blame? Instead of the men who did this to him, instead of the men who quite literally took him apart, you’re turning to the one thing you can’t touch. But you know it’s not what Matt would want. He’d want you to have hope.

How does one go about that when everything seems to be going wrong? When your very heart is lying in a hospital bed? How does even an atheist not curse God out of pure and utter desperation?

Matt lets out a soft groan, and your eyes flick to him. Your heartbeat accelerates at the same time as his.

“Matt?” you ask, inching closer to the edge of the bed.

He stirs. Every muscle and bone in his body is filled with a dull ache. First dull, then sharp. The stitches in his abdomen pull at the tender flesh with every breath that fills his lungs, the oxygen so rich and concentrated it almost sets him alight. The plastic tubes weigh heavy on his nostrils.

His eyes pulsate, and there is this obnoxiously loud beeping in his ear. It’s screaming, almost. Beep, beep, beep. Faster and faster, and faster. But his eyelids are so heavy he can’t open them. There’s nothing but fire, and for a moment he forgets that he hasn’t been able to see for decades.

In his head, he’s eight years old again, his head wrapped with a bandage that itches his skin so terribly, and the world around him screaming. It’s the same room, it seems, cold and dark and terrifying.

Matt reaches for his eyes, fingers brushing against the bruises that resemble the shape of a fist—no light. He can taste copper on his tongue. The beeping gets louder and his ears are ringing, and why is the blanket made of sandpaper? He wants to tear the skin off his weary bones.

“I can’t–” he breaks off at the foreign sound of his voice. Another trace of his fingertips against the bruised skin. “I can’t see,” he chokes out.

“Matt!” you say a little louder, your hand finally touching his, and it’s as if the bubble he’s in bursts.

He recognizes your voice. He remembers he’s blind. He remembers going out last night and kissing you goodbye. He was in good spirits then. But something went wrong. Somehow, his opponent had weaponry that could easily break through the protective material of his suit. He stood no chance against the number of men coming at him. They sliced and they hit, and he thought he saw God, but it was just the swinging ceiling light inside the abandoned factory building. It smelled of mold and water.

He fought until he couldn’t bear it anymore. Until the opportunity to flee presented itself, and so Matt crawled home to you. With every last ounce of strength, he honored his promise to always come back home to you.

He doesn’t remember much more, only falling down the stairs to the rooftop access to the living room. The crash. Your gasp. Your heartbeat. And then, nothing. Nothing but the comfort of darkness.

“Hey,” you smile through your tears, “It’s me. You’re okay.”

He whispers your name, and you squeeze his hand.

“I’m here. Try not to move,” you tell him. “You’re at Metro General.”

The word makes his breath stutter. “The hospital?” he inquires.

“Yes. You were hurt… badly. They had to take out your spleen. Fifty-something stitches. Some brain swelling. I don’t know, it’s a lot.”

“I told you,” he grunts, “no hospitals.”

Matt Murdock is not an ungrateful man. However, his words cut deep. You can’t take much more.

“You promised, no–”

“You died!” you cry out. The echo bounces off the walls and resonates in his ears like the sound of a bomb going off.

“You died in my arms and I had to–” You look at your hands, stained with blood, “I had to break your ribs to bring you back. Your bones… breaking,” you cry. “You died and I thought I was gonna lose you, for good. You can blame me for breaking a stupid promise, but if I hadn’t, I’d be preparing a funeral now!”

His head tilts in his direction—you’re serious—and his defenses fall like an iron curtain, shattering like glass. The sound of your voice in such a state of disarray, death by a thousand cuts.

He almost died. Or, he did die, and you brought him back, but the things you had to do for that… you brought him back, but it hurt you. He hurt you. He swore he would never do so again, only over his dead body, yet it was his dead body that almost broke you.

Matt never wanted any of this to happen. The love of his life, traumatized. What kind of man does that? Surely the kind of man that no one but the one person he never deserved mourns when he’s gone.

The silence drags on, suffocating you. “Do you get that?” you ask, barely above a whisper. “Do you get that I’d die without you?”

“I’m so sorry,” Matt whispers. “I don’t remember…”

“Of course, you don’t. You’ve never been this hurt.”

“Sweetheart.”

“I would’ve traded your life for mine if I could’ve. I tried, Matt, I did. I prayed to God and told him to take me instead while I was trying to get your heart beating again. And I blamed Him for doing this to you ‘cause I didn’t know who else to blame.”

His fingers brush against the back of your hand. A nurse kindly lent you clothes from the lost-and-found, but you can still feel the sticky substance on your skin, crawling like a parasite.

You shudder. “If you hadn’t woken up, I–“

“C’mere,” he says.

Beep, beep, beep, goes the heart monitor, and sirens wail outside his window.

“I can’t,” you whisper back.

“Why not?”

“I don’t want to hurt you.”

“Sweetheart, you could cut out my heart and I’d still want you.”

A shiver runs down your spine, settling in the pit of your stomach. You feel so sick, so detached from everything and everyone, but the piece of you that you almost lost is right there, and he’s alive.

He’s alive.

You have to keep reminding yourself of the fact. His heart is beating. His lungs are filled with air. Those last few hours might have felt like a proper nightmare, but you made it through. He made it through.

“Please,” he pleads. “I… I need you.”

It’s different now. He’s not asking to hold you for your comfort but his own, and without another second thought, you climb into the tiny hospital bed with him.

Matt seeks out the comfort of your chest, but he’s aimless in his agony. You gently guide his head to your heart. Touching him, feeling him so close to you, melts away the last of your fears.

“You scared me,” you confess.

He exhales. “I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be sorry. Just… promise you’ll live for me.”

The silence wraps a noose around your neck. But then, “You own my heart,” he says.

“So?”

“Yeah, I’ll live for you.”

Those four words mean more to you than a promise to die for you if push comes to shove. Because what are you supposed to do without him? You’d rather he try everything in his power to live for you than leave you.

“If you live for me, too,” he whispers then, and a tear runs from his cheek down your chest. You can’t survive without him, that much is certain. That may sound like a state of unhealthy codependency, but when two people share the same soul, every breath one breathes sustains the other. There’s nothing you can do about that, nor would you ever want to.

“Without you, I’d–” he cuts himself off.

Without you, he’d be lost. Without you, even in death, he would not be able to find peace.

“I promise,” you manage to say, although the words come with a fresh flood of salty tears that mix with the ocean of his.

He relaxes into you. “Thank you.”

As he falls asleep in your arms that night, you find yourself staring up at the ceiling again.

“Don’t fail him,” you whisper. To God, to the universe, to the moon and Saturn, and to yourself.

matt murdock angst tag list: @itwasthereaminuteago @norestfortheshelbywicked @yarrystyleeza @littlenerdyravenclaw @thychuvaluswife @schneeflocky @imjustcal @pipsqueakkitten @merlinbtch @thatonegamefish @amberritonicole @pigeonmama @bohemianrhapsody86 @a-gir1-has-n0-name @winkev1 @callsign-ember @chittaphonstar @buckyyyismahhlife @trublu2u @xnatyx @zomtart @steve-chandler @lucienofthelakes @mochie-is-a-librarian @buckyssugarchick

#matt murdock #matt murdock x reader #matt murdock x you #matt murdock angst #matt murdock fluff #hurt/comfort #daredevil #charlie cox

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mybelovedfleur · 1 day ago

Text

,,𝐵𝑒𝓁𝓁𝒶𝒹𝑜𝓃𝓃𝒶" 𝒞𝒽𝒶𝓅𝓉𝑒𝓇 𝐼𝐼

(Yandere!Silco x Amnesiac!Fem!Reader)

!TW! FantasyAU! Heavy Yandere Themes, Silco is ooc for sure, vomiting, sick!reader, violence, mention of death, violence, dark yandere, I will tag every chapter seperately! :)

Description: ,, A series of unfortunate events causes you to completely lose your memory. Now, you find yourself thrust into the role of the Duchess of Zaun, married to a man you don’t recognize. But was this ever truly your life? And why does the scent of blood cling to you, no matter where you go? "

Note: english is NOT my first language, I am very much open for critique and suggestions but pls be nice and respectful :c I DO NOT support any of these behaviors!

─ ⊹ ⊱ -'♡'- ⊰ ⊹ ─

Silco leaned over you, concern in his eyes, as if the slightest sign of your pain hurt him just as much. He carefully adjusted the pillow so that you could comfortably rest your injured head on it.

"Do you feel worse? Should I get a doctor?" he whispered with tension in his voice, the trembling note betraying how much he cared about your health.

You haven't shown the slightest interest in leaving your bed all morning - a completely different behavior from your determination yesterday.

No wonder Silco noticed it right away. Seeing that you didn't even try to get up to eat breakfast, he became clearly worried. From that moment on, he constantly circled you like a tireless bee, trying to help you in every way possible. Instead of comforting you, his excessive concern began to irritate you - it was the first time he seemed so burdensome. You were overwhelmed by the dark memories of the nightmare that still weighed on your mind, and Silco didn't give you a moment's respite to simply delve into your own thoughts.

,,I feel like I always do, I just don't have the strength. It's nothing serious" you said, finally trying to calm him down. But Silco didn't look convinced. His gaze wandered over your body, as if stubbornly searching for something that could betray you

,,I have an important meeting today... " he whispered under his breath, clearly to himself, but you heard it clearly. You didn't have time to say anything, because his gaze fell roght back on your face.

,, It doesn't matter" he said in a confident tone, his voice firm" I'll stay with you"

If you had more strength, and the wound on the back of your head wasn't throbbing with irritating pain, you would have surely jumped up.

"No, please..." you said pleadingly, staring at him. "I don't want to be a burden again. You hardly leave my side anyway"

Silco froze for a moment, as if your words had hurt him more than he would like to admit. When he finally spoke, his tone was unexpectedly serious.

"Don't ever say that again" he said firmly.

You sighed, feeling the weight of guilt gripping your heart."I just don't want to stop you," you began quietly, struggling to gather your thoughts.

"I want to prove to both of us that I can handle myself, even in times like these. If you go to this meeting... I'll be truly happy"

Silco stood up and began to pace nervously around the room, you could almost hear the grinding of his teeth. His hand involuntarily went to the scarred side of his face, which he rubbed as if trying to quell the growing frustration. You waited tensely, holding your breath, wondering if your words had angered him.

"The servants are well trained" he finally said, his voice full of reluctance, as if each word was difficult for him. "They know what to do. Don't hesitate to send for me if something happens, or if you simply need me."

His gaze finally met yours.

"I'll drop everything and come to you" he added with such intensity that you had no doubts about the sincerity of his words.

─ ⊹ ⊱ -'♡'- ⊰ ⊹ ─

It wasn't like you hadn't noticed the estate workers before – they were there, but rather like shadows moving in the background, silently carrying out your husband's orders. They were the ones who helped you with more intimate activities, such as changing or washing. Although it made things easier for you, you quickly noticed that Silco approached this matter with clear reluctance.

When you first asked for a new nightgown and the opportunity to wash up, he fulfilled your wish almost immediately. However, his reaction to this request exceeded your expectations - before you knew it, he was already filling the bathtub with water, sitting you on the stool next to it. When with unwavering determination he wanted to help you take off your clothes, you felt your face immediately turn red like a beetroot.

Embarrassed, you calmly asked him to let you do it yourself. His expression was hard to read - as if he was fighting with his thoughts. From that moment on, he waited for you outside the bathroom door, visibly anxious and even outraged whenever one of the servants helped you with something that he felt should have been his role.

Now, you had a real chance to make contact with them, maybe even have a short conversation. Up until now, everything you knew about your life had come from Silco's mouth. His stories, while very romantic, were undoubtedly tinged with his feelings, perhaps even idealized – which was no surprise, considering the way he was devoted to his role as your loving husband.

The prospect of hearing something about yourself from an outsider, someone who wasn't emotionally attached to you, seemed almost exciting. It could be a chance to look at your life from a different perspective – and perhaps discover something new about yourself.

You were being looked after by three women: two middle-aged and one clearly younger. They were all dressed in impeccably ironed black uniforms that emphasized their professionalism. They moved around you with mechanical precision – their movements were so perfect and synchronized that they almost resembled some sort of machines. Silco wasn't exaggerating when he said that they were highly trained.

Your ambitious plans to start a conversation didn't go so well at first. You were too nervous, and their distant attitude only increased your embarrassment.

It was only when the younger girl was left alone in the room to change the sheets on the bed that you felt it was the right moment to speak up. So you broke through, saying the first words

"What's your name?" you asked, trying to make your voice sound natural, although you yourself felt slightly embarrassed. The girl, noticeably surprised, stopped for a moment, as if wondering what she should do, whether to answer you at all.

A moment of silence passed, which seemed to last forever, before finally, with a nervousness in her voice, she answered

"Erin, my lady" she somehow radiated a warmth that immediately worked in your favor, and you felt your self-confidence begin to grow.

"Erin" you repeated.

You noticed how the girl visibly relaxed, and a delicate, almost shy smile appeared on her face.

"Tell me, how long have you been working here?" she put down the pillow she was working on and finally turned her full attention to you.

"Only a month, Ma'am" she replied. As soon as you heard her words, you sighed with resignation.

"The entire staff has been here for a month" she added quickly. At these words, you looked up, and your eyes narrowed in a sign of dissatisfaction and suspicion.

"How so?"

The girl, now clearly regretting speaking, began nervously adjusting her uniform.

"The Duke replaced the entire staff after your accident," she explained quickly, as if these words were supposed to calm the situation, although they had the opposite effect.

You wanted to ask for details, for reasons, for what exactly had happened, but before you could say anything, the door flew open. One of the older women entered the room with a silver tray full of medicines.

The older woman gave the girl a reprimanding look that was telling enough for the young maid to immediately return to her work, lowering her gaze like a guilty child.

When the servants finished their duties, both women bowed low and asked if you needed anything else. You forced yourself to briefly deny it, even though your thoughts were screaming to stop them and force out more information. A moment later, the door closed behind them, leaving you alone in the room, again.

─ ⊹ ⊱ -'♡'- ⊰ ⊹ ─

By the end of the day, your strength had returned, at least enough to get out of bed and sit on the edge. You still felt a slight weakness in your legs, but the knowledge that at least you had managed to overcome your constant fatigue was comforting. On the nightstand stood a silver tray of medicines – the same tablets whose bitter taste made you nauseous, and whose effects locked you in a numbing fog. You looked at them with reluctance, the dark purple – almost black liquid standing in the cup almost made you nauseous by its very sight. A decision was made in your head – not now. You would use this moment, when your body finally did not betray you, and Silco did not hover nearby like a guard watching over a prisoner.

Without the constant feeling of sleepiness, you finally felt like your thoughts were your own—clear, clear, unencumbered by the fog of medication. For the first time in a long time, you felt like you could look at your situation clearly. For days, weeks, maybe even longer, you felt like Silco had not only taken control of your life, but also of what you thought and felt. His words, his presence, even his care—all seemed to shape your reality.

But now, as that grip eased, the truth began to weigh on you, something here was wrong. The situation you found yourself in was far from normal, no matter how beautifully Silco tried to present it. There were too many of his versions of events in this story, his sweet promises, his comfortable half-truths. And the answers you were desperately searching for? There were none. There were only gaps, silence, and then his narrative again. You could see it clearly now—and it was that clarity of mind that made the weight of it all seem unbearable.

You knew that if you wanted to regain even a shred of sanity, you had to get out of this room—this claustrophobic prison where everything seemed to reek of control. You wanted to feel the fresh air, to touch the earth in the garden that had only existed for you as a view through closed, unyielding windows.

But you couldn't. Your body was betraying you, just as it had been betraying you all these days. You knew that if you tried, your legs would give out and you would eventually collapse to the floor—helpless, weak, unable to even get up. The arms that should have held you up would fail. Your imagination showed you the image of Silco entering the room, of you lying there—motionless, completely defenseless, yet more proof that you should have listened to his commands.

The thought squeezed you from the inside, and the frustration you had tried to suppress surged like a wave. You felt the stinging tears welling up in your eyes, the helplessness choking you in your throat. You yearned for freedom so much, but you were a prisoner of your own body.

As if all that wasn't enough, you still felt the weight of your nightmare from today, never leaving you. It lingered in the back of your mind like a persistent shadow, blurry but still clear enough to send shivers down your spine. There was something disturbingly familiar about the nightmare, something that wouldn't leave you alone.

Raised voices could be heard from behind the door leading to Silco's office. They were muffled, but their tone indicated that this was no ordinary conversation - it was an argument. You easily recognized one of the voices as Silco's. The other voice, however, was unfamiliar to you, although unlike your husband, he didn't care about the volume of his tone, probably not knowing that someone on the other side could hear them, the words were still too distorted for you to understand anything.

Your eyes automatically went to the tray of medicines, and then to the door leading to the office. Common sense told you to stay in bed, but something else - curiosity, anxiety, maybe even instinct - told you to act. Pushing aside all logical thoughts, you slowly shifted on the bed, trying to get closer to the source of the sound. However, despite your efforts, the voices were still indistinct, and frustration grew inside you.In a burst of courage—or perhaps mad stupidity—you decided to do something more.

You grabbed the bed frame, bracing your shaking hands on it, and struggled to your feet. The wall was your only support as you took your first step toward the door.

When you reached your destination, your heart started beating faster, but this time not from the effort, but from relief. You made it – for the first time, you had crossed the entire room without anyone's help. But that feeling of pride only lasted a moment, because suddenly you heard the slam of the office door and quick footsteps, clearly heading your way. Your heart froze in your chest. You didn't have time to back up or think about what to do.

The door opened abruptly, almost hitting you in the face. You were leaning against the door frame and the handle to keep your balance, but the sudden movement took away all of your support. The world around you blurred, and you felt yourself starting to fall. Before you could touch the floor, you felt strong hands grab you at the last moment.

The grip was firm, almost too strong, you looked up and looked straight into Silco's eyes, which shone with something between surprise and irritation. His face was drawn, as if he was fighting to keep from exploding with anger, but you could clearly see the shadow of concern that was breaking through his mask of composure.

"What are you doing?" he hissed quietly, his voice laced with a mixture of anger and concern.

Silco wrapped his arms around your waist and pulled you closer, so that your faces were almost at the same level. You felt his hands grip your waist tightly, holding you in place as if to make sure you didn't disappear from his field of vision. His gaze was intense, piercing, but you avoided it, lowering your gaze and whispering barely audibly:

"I heard noises outside the door... I got scared" your voice was shaking. Silco narrowed his eyes, then looked away, glancing over your shoulder as if searching for something behind you. But that only lasted a moment. His gaze quickly returned to you - now full of irritation, and his expression changed as if someone had turned off the mask of composure he always wore.

"Why didn't you take your medicine?" he asked, anger growing in his voice.

"Why are you trying so hard to disobey me?!" before you could say anything, his hands moved to your shoulders, gripping them tightly, his voice growing increasingly tense. Before you could protest, you felt him shake your body. Not hard, but enough to force you to look him in the eyes. His hands seemed to desperately hold you to him, as if they were trying to force you into obedience.

"Look at me" he growled, his voice shaking, but it wasn't just anger anymore. There was something else in his eyes, behind the facade of anger - fear.

Your gaze remained fixed on your hands clasped on his torso, however, Silco clearly had no intention of waiting for your reaction. In a burst of frustration and desperation, his hand moved to the back of your head, grabbing a spot that had not yet healed. Before you could react, he forced you to lift your head and look him straight in the eye.

Pain exploded like fire, spreading throughout your body, and a sudden, suffering cry escaped your lips. Silco froze, as if he had only just realized what he had done. His hand immediately let go of your head, and the rest of your body recoiled in terror, it was enough for your tired legs to give out. You fell to the floor, with nothing to hold on to.

For several long seconds, Silco stood motionless, as if what had happened was unreal to him. His gaze, filled with anger a moment ago, now seemed as if something inside him had snapped.

As you lifted your gaze, trying to catch your breath and control the pain, something about the image before you seemed strangely familiar. Silco stood still, his silhouette silhouetted against the warm glow of the dying fire in the fireplace, but your eyes could no longer focus on the details. The tears that had welled up in your eyes began to blur reality, and you felt as if the room had suddenly become dark.

You blinked once, then twice, and the image before you changed. Instead of a room, you saw something that resembled a scene from a nightmare. Silco stood before you in the rain, his clothes soaked through, drops running down the material in a rhythmic, almost hypnotic pace.

The entire figure seemed to be taken from another world, yet terrifyingly real at the same time. The only thing that remained clear in this illusion was his injured eye. It glowed in the darkness like a cursed light.

You didn't know if it was a memory, a hallucination caused by the pain, or something more. But one thing was certain - at that moment the line between reality and nightmare began to blur, and you felt like you were drowning in this darkness, the epicenter of which was him.

You curled up on the floor, burying your face in your shaking hands. Tears flowed steadily, hot and stinging, as if burning paths into your skin. The pain, both physical and mental, seemed to take over every aspect of your existence.

"Drink," you heard suddenly, his voice hard, almost impervious to argument.

Before you could protest, you felt Silco lift you off the floor. His movements were surprisingly gentle, though you could feel his hands shaking.

Before you knew what was happening, a silver goblet touched your lips. The dark liquid, the sharp smell of which filled your nostrils, was thick, viscous, its bitter taste immediately hit your taste buds, almost causing a gag reflex, but Silco didn't stop

"Drink" he repeated, this time more insistently, and his free hand held your face, not letting you turn away

You felt the liquid pour into your mouth, and he forced you to swallow. His hand, although shaking, was unwavering, and his gaze was focused on only one thing, regardless of your protests.

When he finally moved the cup away from your lips, you felt the remnants of the liquid run down your chin, leaving a sticky trail on your skin. A few dark drops landed on your nightgown, staining the delicate material.

Your body began to betray you – weakened and tired, unable to fight any longer. Your head fell limply, and Silco gently supported it and placed it on his lap. His touch, although full of anger a moment ago, now seemed almost tender.

You felt a piece of his shirt wipe your face. It was a rough, yet surprisingly caring attempt to wipe away the tears, the traces of liquid, and the pain that seemed to be etched into your skin. His gestures were mechanical, as if he was trying to recreate something a loving husband should do.

Your eyelids began to close, heavy with fatigue and tears. You closed your eyes, feeling the warmth of his presence surrounding you, although you didn't feel safe at all. It was more than resignation – it was capitulation to fate, to him.

─ ⊹ ⊱ -'♡'- ⊰ ⊹ ─

Taglist: @missbeeentertainment

Notes: I'm sorry if there is a lot of mistakes, I was writing it on my phone which has a polish auto correction, and I do not know how to turn it off :( Thank you so so so much for all your love and support, every time I see a notification I feel so grateful for every one of you! Thank you so much and hopefully see you again! <3

#yandere arcane #arcane fanfic #arcane #arcane silco #yandere silco #yandere x reader #yandere themes #yandere #silco x you #silco x reader #silco #silco fic

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ekingston · 21 hours ago

Note

Hello! So sorry to bother, but have you had any updates on the Word-Stream/Speechify situation?

Just one: like I posted on Xitter and Bluesky last night, as of yesterday afternoon, the links to individual works as they were listed on WordStream are gone from both Google and Bing. Hurray, right? Surely we’re all sick of this whole debacle and there’s far more important things to worry about. If all is well that ends well, surely there’s no need to still be angry.

Well, I am. Here’s why:

When I checked on Wednesday, the links to my own work on WordStream were still listed. So rather than it taking a week after Cliff Weitzman first hid the fanwork from view, it took a little over a week from the moment he first promised privately that they would be deleted. Which, fine. Perhaps Cliff didn’t really know what he was talking about when he gave that timeframe. Or maybe he told a little white lie to create the impression that he always intended to do the right thing. It seems more likely to me, though, that Cliff still believed—even after the backlash he received—that he would get away with honoring only individual takedown requests. Or worse, that he needed just a little bit more time with the stolen material to figure out an alternative way to profit off it—preferably without us noticing, this time.

But who knows? I certainly don’t! All we can do is speculate, because publicly, Cliff Weitzman has remained completely silent on his copyright infringements. All we got was the initial justifications he and his sockpuppet accounts used in comments on the original Reddit and Tumblr posts. After those were so understandably ill-received, Cliff only ever communicated with a few individual authors who contacted him directly and repeatedly, blocking people who addressed the issue on Twitter and quietly distancing himself from WordStream by deleting a blog he’d posted to Speechify.com dated December 20th—where Cliff promoted WordStream’s platform specifically to fanfiction readers. (See my enormous timeline post for details and screenshots of said posts before they were taken down.)

And this is why I’m still angry: As long as Cliff Weitzman faces no real consequences for his actions, he won’t see a need to own up to his mistake; and as long as he’s able to delay taking responsibility, this isn’t over. This didn’t end well.

After all, wasn’t this the next-best scenario for Cliff, second only to him turning WordStream into a (for him) effortless, infinite money-making machine? He took something we provided for free and fed it to AI so he could more easily put it behind a paywall; we found out and protested; Cliff quietly erased all evidence of his crime; and we went—almost equally quietly—away.

I want to make sure you know that I continue to be genuinely amazed and intensely grateful for how quickly the news about WordStream’s copyright infringement was shared—and continues to be shared—throughout fandom, on tumblr in particular. If it hadn’t been for our collective outcry here and on Reddit, WordStream would very likely still be up in its original form, and Weitzman would be reaping the benefits (those subscription prices were steep) today.

But it’s been frustrating to see that, with the exception of mentions in articles on Substack and Fansplaining (the latter of which is a particularly awesome and thorough read on fandom’s decontextualization) and a Fanlore listing, our outrage never really spilled out beyond the safely insulated, out-of-the-way spaces that are tumblr, a handful of subreddits and bluesky. And I believe that—unfortunately—we are collectively responsible for that part, as well.

Most of us seemed content to only spread the word by circulating the same two posts on tumblr. (Have we all given up completely on every other social media platform? Am I the only remaining straggler?) And soon after Cliff Weitzman hid WordStream’s fanfiction category from view, our interest in the issue took a sharp dive even there. Are we genuinely deceived into believing the issue has been fully resolved? Do we truly fail to realize that Weitzman’s refusal to admit that what he did was wrong left the door wide open for the next greed-driven tech bro to wander through? Or is the true naivety in thinking that, as a community, we can keep this kind of attack on fandom from happening again? Has our disillusionment already gotten that bad?

However the situation spins out from here, Cliff’s actions will set a precedent. If we fail to show Cliff and his ilk that attempts to profit off fandom’s unpaid labor have consequences, their tech companies will keep trying until something eventually sticks. They might be a little smarter about it next time; obscure their sources a bit better, maybe leave the titles and the authors’ names off. Or maybe they’ll go a bolder route: maybe next time they cross the line they’ll do it boldly enough for IP holders to take notice and stop tolerating fanwork entirely.

Doesn’t that make you angry, too?

There’s this whole other mess of thoughts I would love to be able to untangle about how commercial influence is contributing to the steady erosion of fandom’s foundations, but I’m tired, and other people have said it all much more eloquently than I ever could. Seriously, go read that article on Fansplaining. Or listen to the podcast version of it. Better yet, as long as you’re wearing your noise-canceling headphones, go listen to a podfic of one of your favorite fandoms’ works, and enjoy the collaborative joy and creativity of the people who Cliff Weitzman refuses to believe exist. (In one of Speechify’s other blogs, Cliff claims there are only 272 podfics on AO3. Would you like to run that ChatGPT prompt again, Cliff?). Honestly, much like Cliff Weitzman’s infuriating denial of the fact that fandom fucking has this covered, thank you very much, there’s so. Many. More. Things for us to talk about. There’s the connotations of WordStream’s dubious ‘upload’ button, for instance, or the fact that the app scraped (and in some cases, allegedly, still lists) copyright-protected original fiction as well, or WordStream’s complete lack of contact information, which is illegal for an internationally operating app. And oh! Has anyone reported more thoroughly on Cliff’s app’s options to ‘simplify’ or ‘modernize’ uploaded works, or—my own very favorite abomination—to translate them into something Cliff calls ‘Gen-Z Language’? Much like his atrocious AI book covers, it would be hilarious, if it didn’t make steam come out of my ears.

Anyway, there it is. I highly recommend you do all of that. And then, if you aren’t familiar with it already, go do some research re: fair use and your rights as the copyright owner of your works. A good number of people commenting on this controversy expressed stunned surprise or fearful hesitation about claiming any sort of ownership of their fanfiction. The more informed we are about our rights, the more willing we will be to defend them.

Please don’t stop writing or sharing your work. If you can’t bring yourself to work on your WIPs today (trust me, I get it), post about this situation instead. Tweets, skeets, whateverthefucks—about WordStream’s theft, about how this reflects on Speechify’s already shady business practices, about how Cliff’s actions and justifications have personally affected you. You’re welcome to share or copy my posts on these platforms, but since Cliff already blocked me, I very much prefer you post your own. If you do, call Cliff Weitzman by his full name and tag or include both WordStream and Speechify to ensure Weitzman will recognize he has both a personal as well as a professional stake in handling the situation with integrity. Leave your concerns in reviews on the Speechify app. (We weren’t provided with a more appropriate place to put them, after all!) Consider calling for a Speechify boycott until Cliff accepts accountability for his actions.

Do avoid making exaggerated claims, and don’t call for physical retaliation against Cliff’s person or his property. We don’t want to give him or Speechify even the weakest of grounds to claim defamation or threats of violence. Focus on the facts: they’re incriminating enough by themselves. Show Cliff that we’re determined to keep bringing up his company’s wrongdoings in public spaces until he demonstrates that he understands why taking these freely shared fanworks and monetizing them was wrong, and takes steps to ensure it won’t happen again.

One last thing—and this is really more of a general reminder—please stop suggesting I handle this situation for you. People have come to me asking for action items. The resulting flashbacks to my days as an office assistant were extremely upsetting. In all seriousness, casting me as some sort of coordinator or driving force behind this backlash actively hurts the cause. Not only does it downplay fandom’s collective efforts, it also makes our message extremely vulnerable. It would be all too easy for Cliff to silence one singular source. Wikipedia will not maintain mentions of this controversy as long as it leads only to Easter Kingston’s attempt to summarize what happened as it was happening. You only know my name because I stumbled upon WordStream’s theft and decided to get my friends involved. I am not more knowledgeable, more skilled or more angrily invested in this issue than you are (or can, or should, be). I draw pictures and I write stories and I worry about the shift I’m seeing in fandom after having been on this ride for even a few pre-livejournal rounds.

I’m not going to stop doing any of those things. But I am going to allow myself to step away for a bit, make my wife dinner, and catch up on our shows.

I trust you’ve got it from here.

#word-stream #cliff weitzman #plagiarism #speechify #AO3 #writers on tumblr #fanfiction #independent authors #web scraping #fandom activism #ask me things!#(which is my ask tag please don’t send me asks about things i’ve already answered in the main post)#anonymous

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oceanicwriting · 2 days ago

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black book.

summary: falling in love with lorenzo berkshire was totally forbidden, but... what kind of story would your life be if you don't end up madly in love with him? although there is much more hidden under his sexual practices that end up releasing a part of you that he had never seen.

pairing(s): lorenzo berkshire x fem!reader

a/n: this ended up being so long that i didn't check it twice... sorry if there are errors, at some point i will give it another go, promise. btw, this was inspired by a tiktok i saw two days ago about this black book thing. hope you like it!

+18 smut (a little), oral sex/sit on my face (f!receiving), masturbation (f!receiving), fingering, teasing, mention and use of drugs, smoking, fuck buddies, cursing

ㅤㅤㅤ every woman knew, from the first moment they accept lorenzo berkshire between their legs, that everything that will happen would be strictly sexual and no more than one night. many had tried to change that, but he was a man of his word. at least he was with all the other girls who have been under his domain because you were too special for that. how could he even think about forgetting the best sex he had ever had in a closet in the hallways?

ㅤㅤㅤ since then, you've met more times than you can count, under the strict law of not crossing the romantic. at first, a little biased by the disgusting rumors about him, you thought it was a safe plan. and it was... for a while. when he started asking you to spend the nights with him, send you surprise notes, talk in the moonlight and all kinds of things, your heart became an incurable weakling.

ㅤㅤㅤ are you in love with lorenzo womanizer berkshire? of course you are.

ㅤㅤㅤ —what do you think of this one? —you look at your friend's dress, who walks around the room, swaying her hips—. i feel like it's not that short...

ㅤㅤㅤ you look at the end of the dress almost certain that if she sit down anywhere her ass would be exposed to the world.

ㅤㅤㅤ —of course, i forgot that the shorter the dress, the faster zabini fucks you, —you mumble with a hint of sarcasm in your voice.ㅤ

ㅤㅤㅤ your friend throws a piece of clothing from the floor, laughing nervously at the comment and insulting you between murmurs.

ㅤㅤㅤ when she turns her attention back to looking for another dress, you let yourself fall on the bed, releasing all the air that you have trapped since last night. in your mind, you had repeated the events over and over again, trying to connect some things but failing miserably in the attempt.

ㅤㅤㅤ —what's wrong with you? every time we go to a snake party, you're jumping on one leg. did something happen with berkshire yesterday?

ㅤㅤㅤ the mere mention of his name sends a chilling wave through your body. you deny it, but your friend knew something had happened. the last few times you hadn't come back from being with him until the next morning, and last night you had come back early, slamming the door in your way in.

ㅤㅤㅤ —liar. —she comes over to sit with you on the bed—. come on, tell me.

ㅤㅤㅤ lorenzo was a boy from another world in bed. he knew perfectly how to use a woman's body to please her desires, taking advantage of the situation to satisfy his own pleasure. he was fully aware of how to squeeze, bite, lick, or caress so that anyone could bend to his charm. and he had bent you in every way, body and soul.

ㅤㅤㅤ —you have to promise not to tell your crush about this —you say, lifting a pinky that your friend wraps around hers in a promise—. i found a black book in lorenzo’s room yesterday. it was a small leather notebook with a silver L on the front. i hadn’t really given it much thought, but he got so weird when he saw it in my hands. he was… tense like never before.

ㅤㅤㅤ —you couldn’t see anything inside?

ㅤㅤㅤ you shake your head and say—: i just wasn’t interested. i thought it was a notebook for class or something, but he got so mad that i doubt it.

ㅤㅤㅤ —that’s weird…

ㅤㅤㅤ your friend doesn’t want you to think about it too much and tries to make you forget about it with drinks straight from the bottle of alcohol she hides under the bed. that was the only fun you had all night because lorenzo disappeared with one of your classmates, and your friend got lost among the crowd.

ㅤㅤㅤ the next day, right after you wake up, your friend walks into the room, looking disheveled. when she notices you're awake, it seems like a memory hits the back of her mind, and her green gaze looks like it's about to explode.

ㅤㅤㅤ you laugh and ask—: what hap...?

ㅤㅤㅤ she shushes you, throwing her bag onto the bed and searching for something amongst the makeup that falls against your messy sheets.

ㅤㅤㅤ —what the...? —in her hands is that black leather book with the shiny silver L sending out sparkles from the morning light reflection—. what did you do?

ㅤㅤㅤ —when blaise and i wanted to find a place to... —she trails off, painting her cheeks red—. you don't need those details, got it. the thing is, we went to the wrong room, and before we left, i saw the book on the desk. no one knows i have it, i swear on my parents.

ㅤㅤㅤ the book has a lot of full pages, losing the neatness of the empty ones at the end. there are entire minutes when you doubt whether to open it, but the curiosity running through your body is inevitable to feel.

ㅤㅤㅤ —so? —your friend asks, forcing you to look up at her—. are you going to open it or not?

ㅤㅤㅤ the first page has black book written in capital letters and lorenzo’s initials just below it. the next page has a small table that takes you two seconds to understand.

ㅤㅤㅤ —what is that?

ㅤㅤㅤ —they look like scores —you say, showing your friend the table.

ㅤㅤㅤ —scores? scores for what?

ㅤㅤㅤ and right below it, there was a list with three points, but the most important one was the one that gets stuck in your mind.

ㅤㅤㅤ —scores for sex.

ㅤㅤㅤ your friend looks at you, noticing the terrible mistake she made by bringing the book to you. she tries to take it from your hands, but you don't let her, and you start to slowly turn the pages. there were names of classmates, girls who have talked to you once, girls you don't know, and others girls you could remember in the back of your mind. and there was your name crossed out, but still visible with a five next to it. in that book, you were either a regular muggle or the worst of them all.

ㅤㅤㅤ —this was a terrible idea —your friend says, finally taking the book from you—. a horrible idea.

ㅤㅤㅤ but you can't speak because your heart has tightened so much that it leaves you breathless and unruly tears fall down your eyes. all you can think about is how pathetic you must look, crying over a man who made it clear from the first moment that you shouldn't fall in love.

ㅤㅤㅤ it had been a week since you discovered lorenzo's big secret. you could have chosen many paths to destroy him, but you made the cowardly decision to avoid him at all costs. he had tried to communicate with you through notes, appearing in the bedroom at any time of the day or chasing you through the halls. and yet, you didn't feel like facing him.

ㅤㅤㅤ when the night came, you always had the three same questions. hadn't he searched your body more than once? did you hear wrong when he repeated between grunts that you were doing perfectly? why did he cum so fast when you wrapped your mouth around his cock? it was strange and disgusting that, after seeing all those names, your concern was centered on the small detail of a score.

ㅤㅤㅤ now you were sitting between a couple of people at a party that your friend had insisted you should be at. you felt calm, comfortable, and were having a great time. until the fun in your eyes fades when, walking through the door with a triumphant air, he appears. lorenzo berkshire would be your downfall for a long time, and you knew it very well.

ㅤㅤㅤ —hey, no. —you hear your friend's voice behind you, but your body is on autopilot, designed to escape—. enough of running away, okay? the girl i've known since i was ten never runs from jerks because she wears that skirt well and makes them suffer.

ㅤㅤㅤ you look at her, then at the crowd. if lorenzo was any other selfless boy, you would have taken revenge as you well know, but he was not that. he had removed any sanity within your loving heart, and you were not sure about playing with something as fragile as that.

ㅤㅤㅤ —no. i...

ㅤㅤㅤ —no, you do —your friend says, pulling your arm to get onto the improvised dance floor with a big smile—. you and i are going to have the best night of our lives.

ㅤㅤㅤ you drink alcohol, dance among people, smoke marijuana, and laugh with faces you can’t remember. you were having such a good time that you can only now sit down laughing out loud at a joke your friend had told.

ㅤㅤㅤ —oh, let me get more alcohol —she says, losing her balance as she gets up from her chair—. oops.

ㅤㅤㅤ you follow his figure from your seat, and there he is. lorenzo is dancing close to a girl in the middle of the crowd. just seeing him ignites a wave of rage that feeds off of all the toxins you’ve taken up until that point. and you think in the midst of lucidity that maybe you could do your thing to make him angry... just a little.

ㅤㅤㅤ you look for some boy who can get your attention so you don't feel repulsed by his touch and you find him. in a corner, smoking a joint on his own, is a boy with fine features. it was the perfect moment, perfect man and perfect opportunity.

ㅤㅤㅤ when you get up, walking among the people, you purposely bump into the body of the girl who clings to lorenzo's shoulders. you apologize with a soft smile that doesn't fade from your face when you feel the boy's eyes linger on your figure contouring as you walk.

ㅤㅤㅤ when you arrive with your prey, you greet him with a more seductive voice than you expected, but it has the effect you wanted. it doesn't take you any time to have the boy in the palm of your hand, between jokes and white lies, you manage to have his fingers on your legs with a delicacy that could melt you.

ㅤㅤㅤ —do you want to go somewhere else? —it's the voice of the boy sitting next to you, speaking close to your ear. you look at the crowd in search of lorenzo, but you can't find him—. i don't think i can hold back the urge to touch you under that dress anymore.

ㅤㅤㅤ you laugh and, the truth is, you didn't dislike the idea of rolling around with this cute stranger either. of course, if he wasn't violently attacked by lorenzo's friends, starting a fight that no one can stop. it's impressive how screams, pushes, or swear words take center stage so quickly.

ㅤㅤㅤ —walk. —even though it's just one word, you know exactly who that voice is, pulling you towards the bedroom stairs.

ㅤㅤㅤ lorenzo's quick steps blur your vision, but you try to stay awake with the soft scent of his cologne hitting your nose. when you reach your room, you can't help but sit up in bed, trying to catch your breath and clear your mind to become aware of what will happen now.

ㅤㅤㅤ when you can lift your head, lorenzo is standing right in front of you. he has his arms crossed on his chest, dark gaze, and waits for you to start some kind of conversation. a wave of heat hits every part of your body, uneasy from the gesture of his tongue pushing the inside of his cheek. oh, he was so angry.

ㅤㅤㅤ —what? —you ask, getting up from the bed, trying to avoid him noticing the stumble you've made in your own steps.

ㅤㅤㅤ —aren't you going to say anything?

ㅤㅤㅤ you turn to see him, pretending not to understand with a small gesture of confusion, managing to feed his anger as you wanted.

ㅤㅤㅤ —you ignore me all fucking week and now you let someone else fuck you in front of everyone. —he lets out a cynical laugh and claps angrily—. oh! surprise, despite everything, the lady has nothing to say.

ㅤㅤㅤ you try not to laugh at how funny his voice sounds in your head.

ㅤㅤㅤ —my problem if i want to fuck someone in front of everyone. why do you care, lorenzo? and he was just touching a little. tasting...

ㅤㅤㅤ you hear him, his four strong footsteps that shorten the distance with you. it's the scent of her perfume that you catch first, turning on some parts of your body. you can't deny that his demanding gaze also wreaks havoc on your stomach, and memories of all the times you've been together play through your head at an imperceptible speed.

ㅤㅤㅤ —we're not exclusive, remember?

ㅤㅤㅤ you expected those words to hurt him, but it seems they only manage to sink the thorn into your own heart, causing a pain that hasn't been felt so intense for a week. all because of that stupid black book.

ㅤㅤㅤ —and, after all, i'm nothing more than a muggle worth five points. —and it seems that hurts him, because he steps back, destabilized and obfuscated—. how long do you think it was going to take me to discover it? maybe you're used to taking them to your room once or never, but i've been to that fucking place, i don't know... fifty times?

ㅤㅤㅤ —how did you know?

ㅤㅤㅤ —that doesn't matter. do you know how disgusting i felt after knowing that? rating girls for their performance in bed? are you sixteen fucking years old?!

ㅤㅤㅤ lorenzo grabs your arm tightly, pushing you against the bed and preventing any movement with the weight of his body on top. your breathing hits at the movement, feeling dizzy again.

ㅤㅤㅤ —listen, it's not what you think.

ㅤㅤㅤ his voice, so clear and firm, different from the blurry image of that moment. it's hilarious that he wants to keep thinking you're stupid, as if you were exactly what his book says.

ㅤㅤㅤ —are you telling me that i lack reading comprehension? honestly, lorenzo, i'm impressed by how much you underestimate me and... —the laugh that had been stuck leaves your lips like music to the boy's ears—. you know what? fuck it.

ㅤㅤㅤ the leg that was trapped between his rises, giving a sharp blow against his crotch. your hands push his chest, turning in the bed to straddle him.

ㅤㅤㅤ —a five, enzo? —he looks at you, breathing heavily from the wave of torment affecting his body—. weren't you the one who was going after my body? did i hear wrong when you told me that i was doing it just the way you want? why did you seem to enjoy it when i'm a fucking five?

ㅤㅤㅤ yes, it was unpleasant to put scores, but in your chest was a much bigger pain. you like lorenzo. you are madly in love with him and that clouds every other sense in your head. you wanted to be a twenty, fifty or top score for him. you wanted to be enough. you wanted to be the only woman in his power. you wanted to change the immovable.

ㅤㅤㅤ —beautiful... —his hand tries to touch your cheek decorated with small tears.

ㅤㅤㅤ your body reacts by instinct, hitting his arm to press it against the bed, avoiding any touch that could make you lose the courage you have accumulated.

ㅤㅤㅤ —why, lorenzo?

ㅤㅤㅤ if there was something he hated was seeing sad tears running down your face, being enough to say—: i'm not the only one with a book like that. we compare scores, bet on it, and all kinds of things. i just... i didn't want them to know.

ㅤㅤㅤ you look at him, noticing the honesty in his eyes.

ㅤㅤㅤ —you didn't want them to know what?

ㅤㅤㅤ he smirks, looking at your body with lust. every curve, every place that only he knew, every trace of his marks that have disappeared, and every area that he could touch to make you roll in pleasure. lorenzo knew every little detail of your body with such precision that it was inevitable for him not to imagine you naked.

ㅤㅤㅤ —how amazing you are in bed.

ㅤㅤㅤ and you could blame many things for the events that happen after that. you'd say it was his deep voice that scratched your insides, messy hair that falls on the duvet or disheveled clothes. some might believe when you blame the alcohol, but there was someone in the whole world who would always know the truth. you.

ㅤㅤㅤ lorenzo buries his hands in your hips, pushing you against his body to grab your lips with a delicious habit. the taste of alcohol in his mouth is the same as yours, intense and hot. your hips move with the help of his hands that squeeze just the way you like. you let him dominate the situation of that kiss until a fleeting memory comes back to your head.

ㅤㅤㅤ —i want you to use your mouth —you murmur against his lips—. i want you to use it so you can't use it on anyone else.

ㅤㅤㅤ lorenzo looks at you, trying to turn on the bed to do what you ask. the problem is that your body tenses at the intention, and he looks at you with confusion.

ㅤㅤㅤ —not like that.

ㅤㅤㅤ you pull your panties off to stop your pussy right in front of his face. the simple breath of lorenzo hitting your folds makes you shudder, but you know he has to suffer like never before. so, when he makes the gesture of getting closer to your wetness, your fingers tangle in his hair, pressing his head against the bed.

ㅤㅤㅤ —i want to hear that you want it. i want you to beg.

ㅤㅤㅤ it was always lorenzo who dominated in the relationship. you enjoyed it that way, but today, there was a rage inside you that was as uncontrollable as the wave of ecstasy that runs through your body when you talk to him that way. you wanted to make him feel so small that he would be the one to beg to come back this time.

ㅤㅤㅤ you look at him, part of his face covered by the black skirt and gaze lit up in flames. the hot, heavy air crashing against you was perfect, sending desperate signals to your eager and needy body.

ㅤㅤㅤ —let me devour you. i want to lick and suck until i can't take it anymore. please, just, please...

ㅤㅤㅤ and your pussy presses against his lips, holding part of your weight with the headboard of the bed and legs. lorenzo doesn't take long to do what he had asked, stimulating your clitoris with the tip of his expert tongue. you moan at the tickling sensations that travel from there, moving your hips gently against him.

ㅤㅤㅤ lorenzo kisses, sucks, and licks as best he can against the weight of your body on top of him, raising his eyes over your skirt to watch you arch your back every time his tongue gets close to your entrance. his hands move up to your breasts, where one stops to squeeze over your shirt and the other continues its way to your mouth.

ㅤㅤㅤ —do you wanna s-see how i do it? —you say, looking down at him and sticking your tongue out to lick his fingers—. i always imagine it’s your cock.

ㅤㅤㅤ his fingers sink into your mouth so deeply that it’s impossible not to gasp. your tongue licks, curling and tasting the length of his long digits. when lorenzo is satisfied with that, he moves his hand from your back to your entrance.

ㅤㅤㅤ —w-wait, j-just wait a little —you say between soft moans—. i need you to go down a little.

ㅤㅤㅤ lorenzo does so, making you shiver from the new sensation that builds up in that perfect area. then, you feel his fingers digging in in the perfect direction to touch a spot that activates thousands of waves of pleasure.

ㅤㅤㅤ his fingers going in and out quickly, while his mouth continues to stimulate you, was enough to make your legs feel weak. the accumulation of emotions that are trying to be released with moans explodes in an electric current that travels from head to toe, cutting off the air that enters your lungs, making you scream and fall against lorenzo's face pressed against your thighs.

ㅤㅤㅤ he grabs your ass and manages to turn with his head still buried between them. you can feel the tip of his tongue wander over your sensitive areas again. suffer, suffer and suffer.

ㅤㅤㅤ —stop. —one of your feet pushes his shoulder, making him look at you confused—. will you burn that book?

ㅤㅤㅤ your hands play with your shirt, lowering the neckline to free your breasts in front of him. lorenzo's gaze darkens, and he follows your hand to the inside of your thighs.

ㅤㅤㅤ —beautiful...

ㅤㅤㅤ lorenzo licks his lips, feeling his cock tremble in the desire to bury itself so hard and deep inside you.

ㅤㅤㅤ —would you do it to feel how my tight pussy takes you? would you do it so you could enter me whenever and however you want?

ㅤㅤㅤ a wave of pleasure runs through your body at the sensation of your own fingers touching the places that make you moan in front of him. lorenzo was slowly losing his sanity, and you could see it in his eyes.

ㅤㅤㅤ —yes, i will. i'll do whatever you want with that book —he says, his voice dragging out the words because of the rush with which he says them—. i will.

ㅤㅤㅤ and from one moment to the next, even if you're not sure how, you're out of bed with lorenzo staring at you as hard as the bulge in his pants about to explode. you don't let that weaken you, adjusting your clothes in seconds.

ㅤㅤㅤ —good. perfect, really. —he follows your body to the door with the bad mood sprouting from every pore of his skin—. then we can finish this when you do it right in front of my eyes.

ㅤㅤㅤ —what?

ㅤㅤㅤ —what you heard —you say, sliding a soft smile on your lips—. when i see that ridiculous book in pieces, you can finish what we started. now, get out of my fucking room and close the door on your way out.

ㅤㅤㅤ your body disappears behind the bathroom door, where you hear him call your name angrily, and he leaves the room shortly after. if he hadn't given up, you were sure you would have, so you're thankful he did it first.

ㅤㅤㅤ the surprise is that lorenzo came back minutes later with the book in one hand and his wand in the other, turning the book on fire right in front of your eyes to turn you into a rag of moans, licks, thrusts and marks. not many things could change about this relationship now, but you know that lorenzo might be a little more in love with you than it seems.

#lorenzo berkshire #lorenzo berkshire x reader #lorenzo berkshire x you #lorenzo berkshire x female reader #lorenzo berkshire smut #slytherin boys #slytherin #wizarding world #harry potter

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cafem3wcuryy · 2 days ago

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౨ৎ ━━━ HURT

req from anon: I always see oikawa x reader and the reader is almost always slapping the poor boy 😭 imagine oikawa flinches as the reader does it too much or his exgirlfriens did it a lot and reader comforts him or maybe he break down 🤷🏽‍♀️🫠

━ character: oikawa tooru

━ sum: when a simple gesture can reveal so much about a person.

━ tw: established, relationship, mentions of violence, no pronouns used.

lowercase intended

m.list

it was another lazy day for you and tooru. tooru didn't have anything planned for today nor did he have anything planned for yesterday, leaving the two of you to finally be able to spend time with one another. you guys didn't have anything planned for the day due to tooru's request for the two of you stay in the comfort of your shared home.

it was almost nine pm, and the two of you were watching a romance movie. tooru had been fighting off his exhaustion, and every once in a while, you would catch him dozing off. smiling to yourself, you shook your head, deciding to let him doze off as you continued to watch the movie.

once the movie had finally ended, you looked over to your sleeping boyfriend who was sat back, with his fist holding up his head. shaking your head, questioning how he is able to sleep in such uncomfortable positions, you got up, standing in front of him.

softly shaking his body, he stirs, eyes slowly opening. as he began to gain consciousness, you stretched your arms out in front of you.

"holy-!" tooru's voice rose slightly in shock, as he put his arms out in front of him, his hands protecting his face.

jumping in place, you quickly turned around, thinking he flinched at something that was behind you. seeing nothing behind you, you looked at your boyfriend in disbelief.

"are you okay?" you asked him, in which he nods his head, his eyes slightly wide and his breath slightly uneven.

"i thought you were about to hit me." tooru responds, his voice slightly groggy. he sat up, running his hands over his face.

"what? tooru, why would i hit you?" you questioned him, eyes soft.

shaking his head, he stands up, kissing the top of your head. "sorry, i know you wouldn't. it was a reflex."

"did your ex-girlfriends hit you a lot or something?" you asked, looking up at him, with a frown.

"yes and no?" his tone unsure. "well i got hit a lot when i would fall asleep and they would get mad."

"jesus christ, tooru." you shook your head, softly tugging his arm to your shared bedroom as he followed. "thank god you aren't with them anymore. poor baby, i wouldn't dare hit you because you fell asleep because you work so hard. i wouldn't dare hit you. period."

tooru's eyes softened as you continued to ramble on all the way to the bedroom. you continued to ramble on as the two of you got into bed.

"baby, shh." tooru cut you off from your rant, bringing your body closer to his, his head on your chest. his body immediately relaxed as you started running your fingers through his brown locks. soon he was beginning to fall asleep.

"i love you, tooru. please don't ever think i would put my hands on you to harm you in anyway." you spoke softly. "i wouldn't hit you for being tired either, okay?"

"i know, baby. i was just caught off guard. i love you, so much." tooru sleepily spoke, his words slightly slurring. "i love you."

notes:

slightly proofread

i hope this was to ur liking anon 😭 requests are open!

#anime #anime and manga #haikyuu #haikyuu x reader #haikyuu x you #oikawa tooru #oikawa x you #oikawa x reader

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muwapsturniolo · 2 days ago

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Let’s talk about it.

Tw! Mentions of suicide, slurs, rape accusations, triggering shit in general

As most of yall know there has been drama this past week that I was dragged into as well as rose. This drama started off as something petty that rose and I didn’t want to be involved in, and because I unfollowed the people involved, and told them it wasn’t right to drag rose and I into it, and rose blocked the people involved, suddenly one of the people is dead and rose and I are being blamed.

Now, death is a serious thing, however you’re not gonna blame someone killing themselves on me when I didn’t do anything to them. That’s horrible and disgusting, and it’s fucked up. Do you understand how serious of an accusation that is? Of course I’m not going to care if someone is dead and I’m being blamed for it.

Posts are being sent to me on anon and I’m seeing people say I joked about death. I didn’t joke about shit, I made a few insensitive comments and said I don’t believe she’s dead and I stand on that. I already messaged this acct but to make a video and say “this is just like telling someone a person faked a raped accusation, I’m gonna believe her until she is proven guilty” is actually crazy considering this is two different fucking things, and there’s actual evidence that I didn’t kill nobody.

(Convos with Aaliyah proving I didn’t say anything crazy to her)

This sounds harsh but idc because it needs to be said. If you kill yourself because you dragged two people into sum shit that they didn’t ask to be dragged into, and they react by telling you that you were wrong and they unfollow and block, there is something actually wrong with you.

This is giving the same energy as a manipulative toxic narcissist boyfriend/girlfriend/whoever the fuck, that threatens to kill themselves because you want to break up.

I was literally being harassed on instagram live, a person was watching the live and sending me anons calling me all types of slurs and responding to what I was saying. They kept accusing me of “killing their friend” and that’s bullshit.

How is it possible I killed your friend when them ending their life has nothing to do with me? Like honestly think about it, I’ve posted the messages between me and Aaliyah, nothing bad was said. So no, I didn’t kill your friend nor did I tell her to.

And also, as I was on live yesterday, I showed two accts, one that ik for a fact is Aaliyah, and one that I’m 99% sure is Aaliyah. The 99% one is 99% because I went through their old stories and they were speaking French (which Aaliyah was), was black (which Aaliyah was), had the name Aaliyah and followed me on both my instas, and also looked 13-14 (which is what people kept claiming her age was) After I showed the one I wasn’t 100% certain about, people in the live were getting blocked by that acct and the weird person harassing me on the live admitted they were on the acct and blocking people. The said it was cause I showed her face but there were no photos on the acct of Aaliyah nor was the pfp her. ALSO THE ACCT LITERALLY WAS POSTING EARLIER THAT DAY

Now, I’m starting to believe this was all Aaliyah because she didn’t want to take accountability, but part of me still believes it’s Lila because she has done odd shit in the past which was confirmed by someone.

(Confirming that Lila has made multiple accts to interact with rose and rose keeps blocking her)

Also Lila claims she never blamed me or rose and someone else claims bendetta never did. Is she didn’t, then what is this?

Is this not Lila trying to have a gotcha moment ?? Mind you, Lila unblocked me just to tag me in this post. Then when I called her out she blocked me immediately because she knew she was wrong for blaming me and rose.

So basically to sum up this post, I didn’t kill anyone, rose didn’t kill anyone, stop talking on shit you don’t know anything about, and don’t fake your fucking death and accuse people.

#peachesparley🍑#sturniolo triplets

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twilightakiishi · 1 day ago

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FEED ON MY DESPERATION — C. TAKIISHI

cw: fluff. gn! reader. mention of sex but no sex. implied poly with endochika. synopsis: what romance looks like with takiishi; the first kiss you share and how he's grown fond of you without you really knowing. wc: 1.1k.

chika takiishi takes your breath away in the most mundane of moments. he doesn’t really understand it.

when you’re standing near him and you catch a glimpse of the way the light reflects off his cheekbone and the curve of his upper lip, you get a quick side eye from him. he huffs under your stare that bores into him out of his peripheral.

you just don’t look away. so he meets your gaze, expectantly. what do you want.

a smile twitches at the corner of your lips. he’s learned to communicate more softly with you— still in a way that caters to someone who doesn’t care much for speaking, but with a newfound curiosity. it’s his own selfish desire to know why you are intrigued by him. interest is interest, you think. take it or leave it.

slowly, you lift a hand to his jaw. his eyes follow it carefully, staying locked onto it for a few moments before his brow twitches, unsettling gaze once again falling on yours.

your eyes flicker between his to gauge his reaction— chika isn’t so used to random displays of affection. it’s surprising that he even allows you to share his space. the last thing you want is to scare him off, and that means doing everything thoughtfully. however, sometimes, in an effort to give him time to adjust to something, you end up being brushed off by his impatience.

a tense of his jaw and a twitch of his brow, and he’s turning his head, returning his attention to the broken clasp of his earring endo told him to stop touching an hour ago. (he breaks things in his impatience, whether he’s trying or not. it’s the reason it broke and the reason he can’t fix it.)

a lot of your relationship with takiishi is hit or miss. you are learning him as he is learning you. there is bound to be rejection. so you sigh, returning to your side of the couch and picking up your book, as both of you sit in each other’s company. it’s enough.

the next morning, endo sweeps into the kitchen to say goodbye before heading to the gym. takiishi watches curiously from behind the counter as you reach out to pull endo’s face down to your level, pressing a kiss to the corner of his mouth. you feel eyes burning into you as endo giggles, pulling away to give you a proper kiss.

takiishi’s eye twitches, unbeknownst to you as he chews his waffle. he notices that the way you held his jaw the afternoon before is the exact way you hold endo now, but you waited much less time to lean in. as soon as endo is out the door, he pipes up.

“you wanted to kiss me yesterday.”

you turn to face him. “i did.”

“you hesitated.”

“i wasn’t sure you would be comfortable with it.”

he blinks. “we have sex.”

you stifle a laugh. he isn’t intending to make a joke, and it’s all the more amusing to you.

“yes, but a kiss is a different type of intimacy that i know you aren’t accustomed to. endo craves that kind of attention, so i don’t hesitate with him.”

he stares at you as he takes another bite. you can see the gears turning in his brain as he chews again. you sip your coffee and stare back, leaning against the counter as you wait for his response. it may never come. you know this.

and then he stands, tendrils of hair swinging as he moves. the light streaming in from the kitchen window sets him aglow, little particles of dust in the air rising like embers around his figure. in two short strides, he’s in front of you, a lock of red and yellow loosely falling over his shoulder as he leans in.

his lips are syrup sweet and enticing, encouraging your tongue to glide over his bottom lip. you don’t see the way his own hand hesitates to come up to your jaw, but it does. with much less gentleness than you, but what matters is that it does.

takiishi’s been mimicking you, you’ve noticed. in the way that a robot or an alien would collect data, he copies; tries to understand by following your lead before he decides it’s not exactly his style. so his fingertips trail down until his palm wraps around the base of your throat, thumb resting in the dip of your collarbone. you’re warm where his other fingers rest over your pulse, and he squeezes ever so slightly.

chika’s found that his favorite part of physical affection is the feeling of another being alive. the sound of a beating heart, warm panted breaths, the steady thrum of pulse points scattered around your body. he especially enjoys when he is the source of these bodily responses, but he’s still getting used to you being the cause of them for him.

he remembers the way it felt the first time his heart beat for you.

his body betrayed him— gut writhing and skin broken out into goosebumps under a gaze with intensity that could rival his own.

the day will never come that he’d admit it, and it took months for him to accept what it was. but it’s why he never kicks you out when you show up, lets you sit a few feet away from him while you both do your own thing. it’s why he even seeks you out on days that endo drives him up a wall— your presence is peaceful, comforting, welcomed.

you’ve communicated so much to him without words, learning the complexities of him day by day. like the way you’re touching him now, the way you’ve discovered he likes— hands gently pressed to his lower back, because he feels caged in with arms around his neck and the distance between your bodies with a hand to his chest irks him.

you nip at his bottom lip, sweet and sticky, remembering the way he recoiled the first time you ever tried it. the memory of his expression– completely bewildered, defenses up– flashes in your mind, and you can’t help but smile. the two of you have come so far since then; sharing a random kiss in the middle of the kitchen for the first time, partly initiated by chika.

the thought increases your heart rate, and he notices the instant your breath grows more shallow. his calloused hand moves down to sweep over your chest, stilling at the sensation he’s grown so fond of. takiishi pulls back, taking in the way you pant through parted, glistening lips.

“just do what you want.” like you always have. his hair covers his face when he turns away, murmuring his own declaration of love, “I don’t mind.”

dividers by cafekitsune ! <3

#chika takiishi #chika takiishi x reader #chika takiishi wind breaker #wind breaker x reader #chika takiishi fluff #chika takiishi x you #welp. i like him #i've been scared to post this one #its not that polished and very self indulgent #as is everythign i write. so whatever i guess #love u all hope u enjoy #venus writes <3 #takiishi <3

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lonely-ey3s · 2 days ago

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With All My Love (joel miller x f!reader, no outbreak) Chpt 4

Chapter 4: Casualties

Word count : 14.1k

Chapter Summary: You and Joel have your first Skype call together and continue to do so in the following weeks. You both get closer and fall deeper for each other, hinting towards a definite future together. A few weeks later after an incident that happened between you and Terrence's replacement, you open up to Joel about your past abuse and you two become closer by how he talks you through it but also by acts he demonstrates to show you what you mean to him. In the following weeks, just when you think things have calmed down, you and Maria are told you are going on a special assignment to rescue a higher-ranking officer, going to a location you aren’t sure if you will make it out - as you’ll be heading into no man's land.

Chapter warnings: fluff, flirting, mutual pining, language, mentions of combat and war, blood, violence, hand-to-hand combat, mentions of guns and a knife, hate speech (not by either of our babies), anxiety, panic attacks, use of Y/N, mentions of abuse, descriptions of injuries, angst.

A/N: oh my, this one is a big one but it was necessary for chapters to come! i hope you enjoy it as much as i loved writing it! please like, comment, and repost if you want to see more! thank you for all the support you've given me with the first 3 chapters, i've loved to see and hear everyone's thoughts and love! i love these two and am so happy their story is coming together - ugh love it! xx

Dividers by: @saradika-graphics

Main Masterlist

As soon as Joel hit ‘Accept’ you came onto the screen, earbuds in your ears, smiling brightly. You had an oversized shirt on and your hair down, flowing to one side. “Hey there handsome!” you said smiling and talking in a soft voice, like you might have been trying to stay quiet.

“Wow…” he said out loud without realizing.

You softly giggled and blushed, “Joel, can you hear me?” you asked as his response was a little unexpected but had butterflies erupting throughout your stomach.

“Y-Yeah, I can hear you darlin’...” he smiled and chuckled, shyly dragging his fingers through his hair.

“Darlin’...? I’ve been wondering what that southern drawl sounds like, and I must say, I will most definitely never tire of it.” you smiled brightly.

He smiled brightly, “I’m sorry if I woke you up, I uh… I did the math and thought you wouldn’t maybe see my message for a few more hours.”

You shook your head and tucked a strand of hair behind your ear, “You’re sweet, you didn’t wake me. I woke up cuz it’s so damn hot here, couldn’t sleep.” looked up hearing someone stir in the room then looked back down at the screen, “Sorry, I’m tryna keep quiet, everyone else is asleep but I wanted to see you as soon as I could after finally seeing you were able to message!” you bit your bottom lip, “Sorry it took so long, it’s been a busy few weeks here.” you looked at him, he was in awe and captivated by how beautiful you looked.

“So you’ve said darlin’. I’m just glad to know you’re alright.” he licked his lip and smiled softly, “You had me worried for a while, can’t have that pendant of yours failin’ me…”

You blushed “No we can’t have that, can we?”

Joel smiled and shook his head, the silence and tension between the two of you palpable.

You cleared your throat softly, blushing, “Did you and Sarah have a good 4th of July weekend?”

He nodded, “Yeah, we did. She had a soccer tournament on Friday out of town so we took a little getaway with my brother, Tommy, he has a boat, and so we spent all of yesterday on Canyon Lake just outside of Austin… we took lots of pictures for you.” he winked.

You would never get tired of hearing his voice. You nodded along as he talked, “That sounds like a lot of fun. Did you guys get to barbeque on the lake or eat any good food?”

“Yeah, we did some burgers and hotdogs on a portable grill we had, wasn’t so bad.” He smiled, “What about you? Didn’t you guys have somethin’ like Spam and potatoes or somethin’ like that?” he hadn’t realized he may have let part of Tommy and Maria’s conversation slip, he was just so focused on you, his brain shut off somewhat.

You chuckled and tilted your head confused, “Yeah… we did… how did you know that? You spyin’ on me somehow Joel Miller?”

Joel’s face fell a little, realizing he slipped, “I uh…”

You looked at him and chuckled, “You ok handsome? Cat got your tongue?”

He took a deep breath, he wasn’t going to start this off with dishonesty, so he anxiously scratched his scruff and then looked down a his lap, “Uh… so funny story…” he lightly let out a chuckle nervously.

You had learned with your ex and parents to pay attention to body language and tone, so you sat up a bit straighter, anxious, a weight instantly dropping in your stomach, ‘Shit, he just got nervous’ you thought. “Joel, what’s going on?” you said softly.

He noticed your immediate reaction, looked back up at you, and then softly smiled, “Oh no, sweetheart, nothin’ is wrong…” he bit his lip and thought of how to say what he was about to say, “You umm… you have a nickname for Maria’s pen pal…” he paused, “Reginald right?”

You nodded slowly and then started to put the dots together, Maria had already suggested that they were related, you just didn’t think it could happen. Then you realized how the hell he knew that name then you turned bright red, “You… oh my god.” you laughed and covered your face with your hands, embarrassed. “Oh my god, you saw me make a fool of myself on Maria’s Skype call yesterday!”

Joel laughed and bit his lip at your reaction, finding your embarrassment and shyness so fucking cute. “I um, I didn’t see you, but I was in the room when Tommy Skyped her, I heard your sweet voice though, it drove me mad to not be able to see you and say hello…”

You peeked through your hands, blushing madly, “Oh god, I’m so embarrassed… you weren’t supposed to see that side of me already!”

He let out a deep gut laugh, leaning his head back against the headboard, and you started to giggle back, covering your mouth, trying not to wake the others.

“Stop laughing, I’m serious! You’re only supposed to see the lady-like side of me before you see the goof that Z and Maria have brought out in me..” you smiled at him slowing down your giggling, tucking your hair again behind your ear.

He slowed down his laugh and smiled softly at you, eyes bright and cheeks red, thinking, thanking the universe for hearing your laugh so much tonight, “Nah, I like the goof in you, it made me smile like a fuckin’ idiot hearing you. Tommy gave me so much shit after…” he admitted.

You smiled brightly knowing you had that effect on him, “Like an idiot huh? I’ll have to keep that up, I wanna see that type of smile on your handsome face.” you threw at him, he instantly blushed then jumped slightly when he heard Sarah knock on his door.

“Dad? Are you good? I see we have a casualty of pasta on the floor downstairs…” she said through the door.

You listened closely, smiling hearing Sarah’s voice, and chuckling at her joke.

“Yeah, I’m good baby girl! I’m just on a Skype call with Y/N, umm, I left my wallet on the counter, could you order some takeout? Your choice!” he smiled down at you, watching you listen.

Sarah smiled brightly hearing that he was talking to you. “Yeah of course Dad! Tell Y/N hi for me and thank her for my bracelet! And I will bring in your food when it gets here!”

Joel looked down at you, “You hear all that?” he asked.

You nodded, “Can she hear me?”

He shrugged, “Maybe?” he chuckled.

You grinned and then put a finger up to signal to hold on, you set the laptop down on the floor you had been sitting on and then stood up, Joel seeing you only had that oversized shirt on and some very short shorts on under, his breath hitched and felt himself instantly grow hard. His throat went dry, “H-Hold..” he swallowed, “Sarah hold on a sec…!” he shouted at Sarah through the door, voice cracking a little.

She peeked her head in and giggled hearing the voice crack, “Yeah Dad?” he pulled a pillow quickly over his lap, and held up a finger like you, “Wait one sec.”

He saw you pick up the laptop and then quietly tried to walk through the dark room, only to stub your toe on something, “Ow, fuckin’ shitballs.” you winced, hopping on one foot.

Sarah snorted holding in a laugh at your remark. Joel looked down at you and chuckled at your phrase as well, “You ok darlin’?”

You nodded and whispered, “Yeah, yeah just stubbed my toe. Sorry for cussing Sarah…”

You walked out of the room and quietly shut the door and looked around, one soldier saw you a few feet away and wolf whistled your way, “Damn Y/N, didn’t know you had that fat of an ass! Come over and sit on my lap mama!”

Joel visibility got jealous, jaw clenched and zeroing in on the piece of shit talking to you that way.

“Martinez, the only woman that would ever touch you without a ten-foot pole is your mama. Shut the fuck up and keep your eyes off my ass.” you shot back without missing a beat, walking away from him, finding somewhere to sit that was a bit more quiet.

Joel smirked, and whispered under his breath, “That’s my girl..”

You smiled and blushed to hear him say that, looking down at him. You looked around and then sat down against an abandoned house, and then let out a sigh, “Sorry, that took longer than a minute, is Sarah still able to hear me?”

“I can hear you!” Sarah shouted from the doorway.

“Oh! Lovely! Hi Sarah! I’ve heard such good things about you. I’m glad you like your bracelets, I’ll be sending something else for you and your dad in my next parcel.” you smiled at Joel and winked.

He smiled brightly and then looked at Sarah then at you, “Do you guys wanna say hello? You don’t have to shout at each other...” he chuckled.

You smiled and tucked your hair behind your ears, “I’d love to but only if Sarah is comfortab-” Before you could finish your sentence Sarah had jumped on the bed by Joel, hugging his arm and leaning into the screen. “Hey there!” she smiled, “Oh my gosh, your hair is so pretty down! Is that your natural color?”

You nodded and smiled, “Thank you! Yes, it is! I love your curls- I’m envious of them! I’ve always wanted curly hair!” you giggled.

Sarah giggled, “They are a lot to manage but I do love ‘em!” she smiled and looked at Joel who was soaking in the moment, he was practically glowing.

“I heard you had a soccer tournament this weekend, how did it go? What position do you play?” you asked.

“We placed second and I scored two goals, one of them won the game for us! Dad took pictures…” she looked back at Joel, “Can you send them to her?”

Joel nodded and then looked at you, “Yeah I’ll message them to you later.” he smiled.

Sarah smiled and looked back at you, “I play a center forward, do you play soccer?” she asked.

“I played a little as a kid with like my schoolmates but never competitively like you. However, I did just learn some tricks that some of the kids here taught me, I’ll have to show you someday and you can show me what you can do!” you said softly smiling and messing with the hem of your shirt.

“I’d like that. Do you know when your tour is over?” she asked abruptly.

Joel didn’t even think to ask that question. He perked up and looked at you.

“I’ve been told that if things keep going the way they do, I’ll be home in the spring. If they get better, I could be home either right before or after the holidays but it’s been crazy here, so I’m keeping my expectations low, you know?” you said looking at the hem of your shirt, the thought of you not being home til spring made you anxious.

Joel could tell your mood shifted, “Well Sarah and I will hope for sooner, home for the holidays, yeah?”

You looked up and softly nodded and smiled, agreeing.

“I have one last question and then I’ll go order take out…” Sarah said curiously.

“Alright kiddo, shoot.” you looked her way.

“Why Reginald?” she tilted her head.

You let out a laugh, “Oh jeez..” you began to chuckle, “Ok, so when Maria and I sent our letters at first to your dad and your uncle, we knew nothing about them. I teased her because she sprayed hers with her perfume. I said she had no idea who or where her letter was going, it could be an old guy in a nursing home and said his name is probably Reginald or something… as that was before I knew her pal’s name, but the joke stuck and it continues to push her buttons.” you chuckled.

Joel chuckled at your sense of humor and Sarah did as well, “I like that, it’s like you're calling him an old man… I’m going to call him that now too, especially when he’s being annoying… which is all the time.” she emphasized.

You giggled and nodded, “You can tell him that Maria’s lovely, awesome, never annoying at all roommate said you could use it if he gets mad, he can take it up with me.” you winked.

Sarah nodded and smiled, “Will do, thanks for the ammo!” she giggled and then slid off the bed, “I’m going to go order food, I’m starving! It was nice meeting you, have a good rest of your night- well day for you!” she said smiling brightly at the camera before running out of the room shutting the door behind her.

You chuckled at Joel “She’s a fun kid. I can see a lot of you in her…” you smiled at him.

He smiled warmly, “Thanks darlin’, that means a lot.”

You sat in silence together for a moment before you spoke up “Sorry to have crashed your dinner plans, did I hear there was a pasta casualty?”

Joel chuckled lightly and looked down shyly, “I may have heard your message notification ding, and may have dropped everything I had in my hands to run over to my laptop, then after seeing your message, may have ran upstairs to call you, abandoning the mess…”

“Oh I see… so there are only allegations against you, no concrete evidence tying you to the scene of the crime, innocent until proven guilty, am I right?” you teased.

He looked up at you and chuckled, “Exactly.”

You smiled warmly and sighed contently.

“In my defense, and all honesty, I will drop whatever I’m doing to give you my time and attention… you know for the record.” he winked, smiling brightly.

You blushed and looked down shyly, smiling from ear to ear, “Now here I go smiling a fuckin’ idiot.”

He chuckled and then bit his bottom lip, “Look at me when you’re doin’ that darlin’, I wanna see that beautiful smile.”

You blushed harder and looked at him, laughing at how silly you must’ve looked, “God, you can’t keep sayin’ things like that, Joel Miller!”

He loved the way you said his name, but even more, he loved your laugh. He would forever have it programmed into his brain, on repeat, along with the image of your smile tattooed right beside it.

He bit his lip, loving seeing you like this. He thought he was out of practice with his flirting but clearly, he had quite the effect on you. “You keep smilin’ and laughin’ like that, and we are gonna have a different problem with what you're doin’ to my heart darlin’...”

“I could say the same about you cowboy…” you said as you came down from your laugh.

Before Joel could say anything back he heard someone call your name in the background, you looked up, looking around, and he heard them say ‘We have 3 wounded coming in and could use the extra hands if you’re awake, can you help?’

“Uh, hold on one sec Benson!” You looked back down at Joel, clearly torn on what to do.

“Go, it’s ok sweetheart, they need your help. How about we do this weekly, yeah? Keep the letters coming as usual, and just do this in addition at least once a week… more if we are feelin’ freaky” he chuckled and winked.

You nodded and softly smiled, “Yes, let's do that. I’ll message you later, ok?”

He nodded, “Go save some lives! I’ll talk to you soon.”

You smiled and blushed, “I’ll talk to you soon.” you stood up and ended the call.

Joel sat in his bed, beaming, feeling happier than he’d ever felt before.

He heard a ding and looked at his laptop:

‘I know it's been less than a minute but I miss you and your voice already, wanna Skype again later? ❣️🥺’

He chuckled and typed back:

‘I was just thinkin’ of messaging you the same thing, beautiful 😘 Just message me when you’re free and I’ll call you! ❤️’

Reader’s POV

2 weeks later

You and Joel had Skype called a few times in the last couple of weeks, more than the once-a-week foundation you laid out.

You could tell that not only yourself, but he was addicted to hearing from each other. It was the highlight of your day when it happened and made your whole chaotic world slow down.

Z and Maria met him on the last call two days ago when they crashed your call, just like you did to Maria. You couldn’t help but laugh at the karma.

Maria and Tommy Skyped more often than you and Joel, they even started to flirt themselves as you heard eavesdropping on her last call. You and Z would giggle at her attempt to flirt outside of the window while listening together.

You sent your disposable camera back to Joel a week ago along with another letter and parcel. This one included little candies that Z had shown you that you decided you had to share with Joel and Sarah.

Z and you were glued at the hip, now that he was back to pretty much his full health, he helped in the clinic when you’d work if he wasn’t off playing with other boys in the village. He would help gather supplies and translate if needed between you and injured or sick village folk.

He taught you how to say things so that when he wasn’t around you knew what to say or ask. He was patient and admired how you wanted to learn the language instead of being ignorant like most other soldiers.

Since Terrance had been discharged to go home, Reggie got a new partner, right after you guys got back, his name was Braedon. However, something about him just didn’t feel right to any of you. He only cared about himself and Reggie even felt something off about him, he just couldn’t place it other than he was self-centered and only worried about climbing the ranks, not about saving the lives needing it or making personal sacrifices. You couldn’t stand him as he always had something smart to say or just wasn’t useful, someone always having to babysit him.

—

July 20th, 2014

13:09

You were cleaning out a wound in the medical tent, a small group had just rolled in from a camp 2 miles north that was overrun. Maria and Reggie were on the other side dealing with their problems while Braedon stood there, not jumping in to help with the obvious load.

You were tired, hungry, and frustrated, and you didn’t have time to babysit.

“Hey Braedon, there’s a head lac in bay 2, can you take care of that?” you yelled at him over the screams of pain from your patient and the normal hustle and bustle of the med tent.

He looked at you and rolled his eyes, annoyed, “Yep.” then said something under his breath as he walked over to bay 2 and began working.

Z was standing next to you and saw the reaction as well, he looked up at you, “What’s his problem?”

You narrowed your eyes at him, glaring, you scoffed, “I don’t know Z… but it’s about to be an earful from me…” you clenched your jaw, temper starting to boil.

You addressed the wound you were cleaning. You began packing it, starting a line of fluids, and making sure the patient was comfortable, when you looked at Z, “Start to gather gauze and a pair of gloves for the guy over in bay 9, and then wait for me there.” Z nodded and then left to do what you said.

Your blood was now boiling, fists balled. You were done with his selfishness and shitty attitude. He tended to hit the right buttons and now that you think about it, he reminded you of your ex. The difference between the two was you didn’t take that bullshit anymore and were a United States Army medic, which had given you a newfound confidence, and a ‘fuck around and find out’ attitude.

You walked up and stood across from him as he was working on a patient that seemed to now be unconscious, “Alright, I’m just gon’ cut the bullshit and say what I want to say to you because I am for one sick of the bullshit fake ‘team effort’ you seem to put on only when commanding officers are around for you to brown nose.” You clenched your jaw and narrowed your gaze, “I’m not here to fuckin’ babysit you, neither is Reggie and neither is Maria. The four of us, we are a team - hell you and Reggie are partners, start acting like it.’ You raised your voice slightly, frustrated by his lack of urgency with Tier 1 trauma patients like this one below you, “Next- if you see someone fuckin’ bleedin’, you need to put the two goddamn brain cells you seem to possess, together, and jump in - do your fucking job.” You make eye contact with him, eyes dangerous and threatening, fists balled so tight you are putting nail marks into your palms, “Lastly, the next time you roll your eyes at me, say some backhanded comment, or cop an attitude in the slightest, I’ll knock your head so hard, it’ll fuckin’ spin.” you said lowly, giving him a fake two-second smile after. “Glad we can now be on the same page…” you bit out and then you turned around to walk away towards the bay you told Z to go to, shaking your hands out at your side, letting that energy go.

Just as you were walking around the outside of the tent, several feet away from Z, you felt a tug at your left shoulder before you were spun around and a fist met the left side of your jaw, disorienting you for a moment, knocking you to the ground, and then immediately being kicked in the ribs a few times. “I’ll talk to you however I fucking want, you fucking bitch!” then a glob of spit landed on your cheek. “You and that dirty fuckin’ terrorist kid can fuck off!” he said referring to Z.

You’ve never seen red and felt so much rage before. Your heart began to pound in your chest so loud you heard it in your ears, and heat rose from your back to your head.

You grabbed a fist full of dirt from the ground and threw it up into his eyes, then grabbed his foot and knocked him to the ground, straddling his waist. You landed a blow to his nose, then another, harder, hearing it crack. You grabbed him by the jaw to center his face with one hand and then punched him again in the cheek, blood now running from his nose and mouth.

Z screamed your name, telling you to stop.

You didn’t hear anything, adrenaline muting out your surroundings, only focusing on him.

Braedon flipped you off of him and tried to straddle you, to pin you down, but you did a maneuver to get out from under him and instead on top of him, putting him in a chokehold, then flipping around to one side and slamming yourself on the ground on your back, holding him against you, wrapping your legs around his knees, locking your ankles to immobilize him. He began elbowing your ribs over and over to get away, scratching at your arms, but you just tightened your grip, numb to the pain with the adrenaline coursing through your body. He started gasping for air, and you felt his body go slowly limp, so you let him go, he rolled to the side and choked for air.

You stood up and felt blood coming from your lips and nose. You touched your lip and saw blood, “Made me bleed… big mistake.” you said to yourself, eyes focused on him like he was prey.

He was on all fours, coughing, trying to catch his breath, Z ran to get Maria or Reggie after seeing the look you had in your eye.

Your chest was heaving, breathe heavy, but slow and controlled. Rolled your shoulders back, and stepped forward, kicking his tailbone, knocking him flat on the ground, he whined, “Please, I’m sorry…”

Your gaze was cold and numb, not caring about anything he was saying.

“Get up.” you said plainly, unemotionally. He didn’t move. “Get the fuck up!” you raged.

He rose slowly and backed up raising his hands in defeat. “Please Y/N.. I said I was sorry…” he pleaded.

You walked him up against a wall that was behind him, crowding his space, grabbing the collar of his shirt, “Sorry would have cut it if you just went after me, but you went after Z… no apology will take that back, you revolting piece of shit.” you punched him in the jaw as he did to you which made him lean to the left to fall to the ground but then you grabbed him by his shoulders and kneed him in the groin.

You stepped back as he toppled over and fell to the ground, holding his groin and crying in pain, you repositioned and kicked him twice in the torso, cursing him under your breath, you stepped back, he was coughing up blood and gasping for air. You took another step towards him, fist still balled and bloody at your sides, calculating to kick him again in the stomach or face, you didn’t know which, you would just swing.

That’s when you felt Maria. She pulled you back, arms wrapping around your midsection and trapping your arms, picking you up to move you back, “Stop… you need to stop!” you fought against her, not grasping it was her. Rage still taking hold of your senses, “Let me go! Let me fucking go!” Maria looked at Reggie, holding you still, who then went and checked on Braedon.

Z stepped in front of you to block your vision of Braedon which made you snap out of it.

Your vision cleared and you were aware of what you had just done. Your breathing was ragged and uneven, then the pain hit you like a train, “Ah fuck..” you felt your ribs on fire with each breath.

“Ok… there we go… there you are.” she let you go and came in front of you, touching your cheek and shoulder, “Fuck…” she grimaced at your face. “What the hell happened?” she looked over you, assessing you. She knew this wasn’t your fault, something was said or done to provoke this level of violence from you.

You fell to your knees and gripped your rib cage with one hand and your head with the other, in too much pain to understand what she had just asked before you heard Z speak.

“He hit her first.” Z said softly, “I saw it. Then called her a bitch and spit on her… and then called me a…” he stopped and looked down sadly.

Maria looked back at him, “Z, what did he call you?”

You looked at Z who was saddened and most likely ashamed by the slur, “He called him a dirty fuckin’ terrorist, Maria.” you looked past Z, Braedon still on the ground, bloodied and in pain. You clenched your jaw angrily, and took a deep breath, “You don’t say shit like that without consequences.” you looked back up at her, anger in your eyes.

Maria looked back at Braedon and Reggie, “Reggie, get him bay 6 and then get Sarge… a report needs to be filed against him for assault and hate speech.” Reggie didn’t care to question, he also knew you weren’t capable of this level of violence either without being provoked and you all knew there was something off with this guy.

He nodded and had another nearby soldier help him load Braedon onto a transfer cot and then took him to bay 6.

You shook your head to refocus yourself and stood to your feet, starting to walk away, to bay 9, wiping the blood from your nose and lip on the bottom of your shirt.

“Uh, where do you think you’re going?” Maria asked, shocked to see what you were doing.

“I’m fine Maria. We’ve got work to do.” you stopped walking and looked back at Z, “Come on Z, I need your help.” then began walking again, slowly, obvious to everyone you were in pain.

Z looked at Maria, unsure what to do.

Maria sighed at your stubbornness. “Keep an eye on her, we only have a few hours left on shift then I’ll make her get checked out.”

He nodded and ran to catch up with you. You hugged him to your side protectively when he caught up and kissed the top of his head, “No one gets to call you those names, not ever Z.”

He nodded and hugged your side gently back, “Yes, khahar…”

You finished your shift and then snuck away to your bunkhouse as you saw Maria still knee-deep in a patient and Z left about an hour ago to play soccer with some of his friends after you put on a brave face to convince him you were fine. You closed the door with a chair up against it and started to take off your shirt, wincing in pain. You took it off and looked at yourself in the mirror, accessing the damage.

Your ribs were lightly bruised which would be the start of an ugly sight. You had scratch marks up and down your forearms from when you had him in a chokehold. You took a deep breath through your nose and then looked at your face, your nose had dried blood coming from it, but no signs of it being broken that you could see. Your lip was swollen and broken slightly, but not the worst it’s been.

You tilted your head back and forth to stretch your neck as there was a pain in it from the punch, most likely whiplash.

You saw the picture you had of Sarah and Joel taped to your mirror and sighed sadly, “Crap, he’s going to lose his shit.” you pinched the bridge of your nose and closed your eyes, a raging headache starting.

You heard the door handle twist and then try to open, “God damn it. Y/N, let me in!” Maria sighed, shouting through the door.

You came to the door and moved the chair, twisting the handle to open the door, “I’m not going to the med tent, I already did an assessment. In conclusion, I got fucked up. Bruised ribs and whiplash but that’s it.” you said as if that was going to stop her from dragging you to the clinic herself.

“Nice try, you need to get checked out. Sarge’s orders. He needs it for the report, he also needs your statement.” She argued.

“But I-” you looked at her to protest.

“No, now. I came to get you. Go.” she said, not budging.

You sighed and grabbed your shirt, swinging it over your shoulder, walking out of the bunkhouse towards the med tent in your sports bra, subconsciously proud of your battle wounds, wearing them like a badge of honor.

Maria logged onto her computer quickly and sent a message to Tommy:

‘I need you to get a message to Joel as I know it’s their day they Skype. There was an incident today involving Y/N and that other medic that we all knew was a snake. She’s fine, she just has orders to get checked out by the medics and give her statement to our sergeant. I’m not sure if she’ll feel up to Skyping but I just know you told me about Joel's anxiety. I just don’t want him to worry if he calls and she doesn’t answer. Thank you, talk soon. xx’

She then ran to catch up with you.

Joel’s POV

He woke up that sweet Sunday morning at 6 am, excited to hear from you today at around 8 am, which was your normal scheduled time if Sundays went easy for you.

It had only been two days since you two last spoke but for him, it felt like an eternity, he loved the normal scheduled Sunday Skype sessions, but the ones where you or he would randomly say, ‘I miss you, do you have time to talk?’ made him begin to fall in love with you more and more, and the comfort you brought to him, he had no words for it. Even from thousands of miles away, you became an integral part of his life, of his being.

He saw that you messaged him earlier in the day for you before you started your shift:

‘I can’t wait for tonight cowboy! Hope you are sleeping well! 😘’

He smiled and typed back:

‘I’ll see you soon sweetheart. I miss you. ❤️’

A few moments later as he was walking down the stairs he got a text message from Tommy:

‘Hey, you up?’

He texted back almost immediately:

‘Yeah, just about to cook some breakfast before I Skype with Y/N…’

Within seconds he had an incoming call from his brother, he answered, “Hey what’s up?” he smiled softly, walking the rest of the way down the stairs.

“Mornin’... hey uh.. I just got a message from Maria about Y/N...” Tommy said sadly and softly, trying not to set off alarm bells for Joel.

Joel felt his heart drop into his stomach, “What? What do you mean? W-what’s wrong?”

Tommy sighed softly, “Maria said not to panic or worry, she’s fine, she just wanted me to pass along a message to you. I’m going to text you a screenshot of her message, ok?”

Joel put Tommy on speaker and opened up his messages from Tommy, “Yeah, send it.” he said, feeling sick to his stomach.

Tommy sent it, “She sent this about 3 hours ago. I’m not sure what’s going on. Maria said she’d keep me updated, I just messaged her asking for an update but she’s still offline.”

Joel read through the message, twice. “Fuck, what’s that weasel's name, Braedon?” he could feel his anger bubble up, the want to protect you but not being able to from this distance was something he was constantly battling internally.

“Yeah, that’s him.” Tommy sucked in some air and sighed, “Maria has said there was something off about him for a couple of weeks now. He must’ve shown his true colors.”

Joel huffed, frustrated, “Yeah, just did it on my girl… god if I was there I’d-”

Tommy let out a chuckle, “I know, you and me both brother.”

Joel sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose. “Thanks for the update, just let me know if Maria messages back and I’ll let you know if I hear from Y/N…”

“Sounds good, will do. Talk to you later.” Tommy said softly before ending the call.

Joel sighed and shook his head but then decided he wasn’t going to let his consume him, if Maria said you were ok, you were ok.

He started to make breakfast for himself as Sarah had spent the night at a friend's.

About an hour later he heard from Tommy via text:

‘Hey, Maria just messaged me, she said she has 2 broken ribs and a bunch of bruised ones, a fractured nose, a small split on her lip, and a small concussion. They gave her a sedative and she’s sleeping for the rest of the night.’

Within ten seconds he got another text from Tommy:

‘HOWEVER…’

Then another paragraph came through:

‘She said you should see the other guy. I guess Y/N beat the shit out of him. He has 3 broken ribs, several bruised ones, a broken nose, a broken cheekbone, missing 2 teeth, a concussion, a bruised trachea, and get this… a testicular tear. 🤣 Maria said she hit him so hard in the balls that he has a severe bruise and it has torn the protective tissue. He needs surgery for it, LOL. Atta girl 🎉’

Joel chuckled which turned into a guttural laugh the more he read the injuries you inflicted on this piece of shit.

‘Shit. Remind me to never piss her off… haha. Did Maria say when she might be awake? I’d like to check on her.’

‘She said she’d be out the rest of the night for them, I’d say send her a message later tonight, maybe she’ll be awake tomorrow morning for them…’

Joel nodded and sent a thumbs-up emoji back to Tommy before thinking of what to do to fill the rest of his day, then he got an idea.

He grabbed his truck keys and headed to the store.

He got back home a few hours later and started putting everything together. He had grabbed a big box, a sympathy card, a nice fluffy blanket, some of your favorite snacks you had mentioned to him, some icy hot cream, some fuzzy socks with whales on them, some face masks he found on sale, and a candle that he thought smelled like him.

He wrote in the sympathy card:

‘Rest in Peace: Braedon’s ball sack. Cause of death: his own damn fault and my girl standing on business.

I’m sorry to hear you got hurt darlin’. I’m sending this while you’re sleeping off being sedated. Hopefully, you’re feeling much better by the time you get this, but I just wanted to send some stuff that I’d get you if you were actually, well here.

Sarah says you can never go wrong with a nice fluffy blanket. I also got you some of your favorite snacks that I know you’ve been missing since being there. I thought some icy hot would be something ya’ll don’t have on hand and thought it might bring you some relief. Fuzzy socks, with whales, obviously. I thought since Sarah likes these face masks, you might enjoy them too… you can do them with Maria, I sent a few. Finally, a candle. Now something that brings me comfort when I am hurt or sick is cuddling someone that brings me comfort and just inhaling in their shampoo or perfume, their scent. I thought maybe since I can’t be there, this might be a good placeholder. It’s the closest I could tell that smelled like me. Sarah said a mix of eucalyptus and spearmint, so this was the closest to that. :)

Get well soon. I’m proud of you for standing up for yourself, just know in the future, I’ll be the one breaking bones for you. I’ll protect you so you don’t ever have to go through this again. I promise.

With all my love,

Joel’

He didn’t hesitate or think twice about the last part, he meant it with every part of him. He knew neither of you was ready to say the big three words, but this was close enough to express it.

He packed everything in nicely and tightly and then wrote your address and left with it to go to the post office to drop it off.

By the time he got home from the post office, it was 5 pm and the Cowboys game was on. Ironically playing the Broncos.

He kept checking his phone and laptop for any update or message from you or Tommy, but nothing had come in.

It was 9 pm when he started to head upstairs to bed. He started to brush his teeth and wash his face when he heard the beautiful sound of a ‘ding’ from his laptop. He dried off his face quickly and got into bed, sitting against the headboard, eagerly opening up his laptop to see a message from you:

‘Hey cowboy, you still up? ❤️’

He immediately hit the call button, desperate to see you.

Within a couple of seconds, a dark screen came on, and your camera turned off. “Hey handsome.” he couldn’t see if but you were smiling softly.

“Hey sweetheart… I uh… I can’t see you… can you turn your camera on for me?” he said softly.

You swallowed, and took a breath, “Joel… it’s bad… I…”

“I don’t care, I need to see you, please let me see your beautiful face darlin’...” his brown eyes pleading with you, he looked so damn cute when he looked at you like that.

“I… it’s going to be hard to see me, the lights are all off due to my concussion.” you tried to make excuses, you knew it would be hard and upsetting for him to see you like this.

“Baby I don’t care if I can only see that bright smile of yours, I just… I need to know you’re ok. Please?” he smiled softly, trying to plead his case.

You gently chuckled but then winced at the pain caused by that in your ribs, “Ah.. fuck… right, can’t laugh.” you let out a breath.

You turned on the camera, you had an Army hoodie on, hood over your head, Joel could see your face fully due to the brightness of your screen being illuminated against your skin.

His eyes turned sad and he winced, “Oh god… sweetheart. I… what happened?” he reached out and touched the screen like he was trying to touch you, “Tell me what happened baby…”

You rolled your shoulders back and tried to stretch your back, sore. You sighed gently then softly smiled at how he was being, gentle and loving. “Long or short story handsome?”

“Tell me everything baby, I have nothing but time for you…” he softly smiled back.

You told him everything, at least the details you could remember, some of it was fuzzy, but how it started, you would never forget. You explained how he most likely will be dishonorably discharged if you file charges against him for aggravated assault and hate speech. Sarge wanted you to think about it and let him know later today.

“You are filing charges against him, right? I mean he… he put hands on you, fuckin’ spit on your face.” he started to get upset as he realized the utter disrespect he gave you by spitting on you, that alone didn’t sit well with Joel.

You nodded, “Yeah, of course I am. I don’t much care about me getting a few bumps and bruises, I’m more upset about what he said about Z. That’s what filled me with rage, not by being knocked on my ass, it was that fucking…” you visually were getting more upset, anger festering up.

“Hey hey, it's ok baby, take a breath…” he said softly.

You sighed and gripped the bridge of your nose, “I just… I’ve never felt so angry, you know? I… I don’t remember doing half the things I was told I did. I almost killed him at one point they said, one slight movement and boom, broken neck.” you closed your eyes, softly chuckled and then immediately winced again. “I mean, I’ve been beat up before, I know how to take a hit, I know how to take one and stay down, hell that’s why I joined. Came into boot camp with bruised ribs, I’m sure I had a concussion too from the jackass, but that’s not what fueled me.” you shook your head and clenched your jaw. “Sayin’ something that vile, about Z? A kid? That doesn’t just slide off so easily…”

There was a pause, some silence followed by Joel softly speaking up.

“Darlin’, what do you mean you were beat up before you joined?” Joel asked, sadly looking at you.

You hadn’t shared that part of your past with him yet, you never found the right time, it just seemed too heavy to bring up.

You looked at him and sighed before instinctually looking down, embarrassed and for some reason nervous, “I umm..” you swallowed the lump in your throat, tears starting to surface, “His name is Charlie. I, unfortunately, was trapped with him for quite some time. He was my ex, that turned into… well a monster.” you bit the inner part of your cheek, “There’d be days he’d lock me in a room or I’d be so beaten I wouldn’t be able to move. He uh.. he was very emotionally, and mentally abusive but mostly physically abusive.” you looked at him, tears streaming down your face, and took a breath, fiddling with the string of the hoodie, you hadn’t thought of him since meeting Joel, you found such solace and security being in his life. He never made you feel unsafe or undesirable. “The night that I left for good…” your bottom lip quivered.

“Baby, it’s ok, you don’t need t-” Joel softly began.

“No, I do. You deserve to know Joel.” you cut him off and then bit your lip gently, “The night I left, he beat me within an inch of my life. I was coughin’ up blood, barely passed my physical.” you scoffed. “I honestly only made it out alive because he stopped beating me to get the damn takeout he ordered.” you swallowed hard, tears streaming down, you wiped them gently. “When he passed out, I took my shoes, keys, and wallet, and never looked back. I don’t even have a phone when I get back… hell I don’t even have a home to go back to.” You hysterically let out a sad chuckle, then instantly reached down and held your rib cage and groaned, “I just drove and drove and when I saw the recruiting office, I parked my car there, signed on the dotted line, and took the bus to Fort Jackson.” you let out a heavy sigh, “I joined so he wouldn’t find me. I… I filed charges against him numerous times but his buddies worked at the sheriff’s office and nothing ever seemed to stick. I knew I needed to disappear. Plus, I thought that I would have some job experience for when I would get out in the real world if I joined.” you shrugged. “I’m sorry I never told you, it just seemed too heavy to bring up randomly and I guess I was just avoiding letting you know that dark part of my past.”

Joel just sat and listened, supportively nodding and taking in everything you shared with him.

“Baby, have nothing to be sorry for.” he began, “No one will ever hurt you like that, ever again, do you understand me?” he softly said when you finished speaking, and you nodded.

“I will never lay hand on you, and if I ever do, you better leave me after you did what you did to that fool, Braedon. What was it? Testicular contusion with a scrotal tear?” he questioned.

You chuckled and nodded through tears, wincing again. “Stop makin’ me laugh, it hurts!” you teased..

Joel chuckled and apologized and then smiled lovingly at you, “I promise, this will be the last time, at least until you’re here with me, that a man will ever lay hands on you, yeah?”

You smiled lovingly back and nodded, that three-word phrase edging itself on your tongue for the first time. Neither of you had made anything official but it felt like it was an unsaid thing, you know? You both adored each other and from a distance took care of each other. You had both just seamlessly fit together, into each other's routines, expectations and so much more. He felt like your best friend and you were sure he felt the same about you. You had never felt this way about someone before, it scared you but it also felt so freeing. He made you feel like yourself again, she had been lost for so long since Charlie, but Joel brought her out.

He looked at you like there was something worth looking at.

He blushed softly, “You make me really happy, you know that?”

You shrugged and looked away shyly, “Never coulda’ guessed…” you teased and tucked a strand of hair behind your ear, “You make me really happy too, cowboy.”

He bit his lip trying to contain his smile, “I like when you call me cowboy too, it uh..” he cleared his throat, looking down shyly, “It’s somethin’ only you have called me. It uh… makes me feel all types of ways darlin’.” he peeked up at you with those big brown eyes, you felt your cheeks heat up and a heat start to form between your legs.

You shyly looked down, “I can relate to that same feeling when you look at me with those big brown eyes of yours...”

He chuckled softly and licked his lips, “I’ll be sure to remember that for future reference.” he started to smirk.

You blushed and smiled widely but then winced, “Ah, damn it, can’t smile and laugh, this sucks.”

He looked at the time, “Do you have to work today?”

You shook your head, “They are tryna tell me to take the day off but we are short-handed already with Braedon now being in critical care adding to the load we have to deal with. I think I’m fine, I’d take it easy.”

Joel raised an eyebrow, “You? Take it easy? Darlin’ takin’ it easy is somethin’ I’ve never seen you do since you’ve been there.” he chuckled, “Take a day, rest. I’m sure if the world turns upside down they’ll come to get you but you don’t need to work, you need to get better.” he softly said, “Please, at least take today off, for me?” he used those big brown eyes.

You shook your head and softly chuckled again, “You are awful cowboy…” you winced. “Usin’ those brown eyes to your advantage, again. But I’m sure you also just saw the time and know if I don’t work, you’ll get more time with me…” you looked at him with your arms folded, raising your eyebrow, which he found adorable.

“You are not 100% wrong sweetheart, but no, I’d let you rest, get some more sleep…” he grinned, “And just call you again later.” he winked.

You bit your lip and shook your head, looking down, “You’re lucky I like you so much cowboy.” you looked back up at him, “Alright, deal. I’ll rest up and then call you back again when you get up to talk shortly before you have to go to work.”

“You seem to forget darlin’, I own the company, I can be as late as I want to if it means I’m talkin’ to you.” he smiled.

You raised your eyebrow and smirked, “Mmm I seem to remember you have a consultation and monthly meeting tomorrow with your crew, all before 9 am. You sure you can just… roll in late to those, handsome?”

“For you, absolutely…” he said with zero hesitation or doubt in his voice.

You shook your head smiling like an idiot, not caring that it hurt, and teasingly rolled your eyes, “Get to sleep handsome, you’ve got a big day tomorrow. Call me after your meetings, and I’ll get some more rest. Sound like a plan?”

He nodded and sighed dramatically, “Fine, deal. I’ll talk to you then.”

“Good. Sweet dreams cowboy.” you softly said.

“I will sweetheart, as you’re always in ‘em” he winked.

You bit your lip shyly, “And you in mine. G’night”

“Goodnight sweetheart.”

You hadn’t slept so well in a long time, and just like you said, you were with him in your dreams, wishing it would soon come true.

2 weeks later

You did as you promised and took the rest of that day off, in fact, Joel convinced you to take another day as your pain management was still balancing out. He would check in on you via video chat or messages. He continued to prove he was your rock. He wasn’t going anywhere and even from a distance he provided you with a level of comfort, security, and love that you had never felt.

When you got his care package a few days ago, you have never felt so happy in your life. This man went out and not only gathered things but things with a purpose and reason behind them. He remembered the candy and chips you missed. You had only mentioned them in passing, but he remembered. The candle sent you over the edge emotionally. You laid in your bed that afternoon, tears streaming down your face, eyes closed, holding the candle by your face, wishing, dreaming it was him next to you. You prayed the smell would last until you were back home and could travel to see him. You said you wouldn’t light it for that specific purpose, to make it last.

You hung the card next to his picture on your mirror and looked at the last part constantly, ‘with all my love’... your heart was so full and you knew as soon as you could get home, you wanted nothing more than to be with him. You loved him too, and couldn’t wait to tell him when you were able to say it against his lips or in his arms.

Your injuries slowly but surely healed. You still had issues with your ribs, but you would for a while, but your face and nose healed up nicely.

You pressed charges against Braedon, and after he was medically released he was sent back home. Maria said that she had heard he was trying to press charges against you when you went and discussed it with your commanding officer, they agreed with you, you were acting out of self-defense, and just because he couldn’t defend himself, didn’t mean your actions were like his, assault. However, your commanding officer and you did have a laugh and he told you if there was ever a next time, maybe pull back before you hit them in the balls so hard you lessen their chance to have kids. You said you’d try.

Joel had sent you pictures of the rocking chair he was working on, Sarah even took some of him sanding some wood down and you couldn’t wait to thank her personally for them as it was Joel in his element. Not only that but you couldn’t help but note that he had his biceps flexed, his shirt tightly fitted, he was somewhat sweaty, and wore the most irresistible jeans that hugged him perfectly. You may have kept that one under your pillow and used it late at night when you couldn’t sleep and needed to relieve some tension.

You went back to work full time and continued writing letters to Joel, sending photos you and Maria took. The last few were a little shorter than normal as you two had already spoken to him 3 times this week for at least 2 hours each time, there wasn’t much to write about, but you still wanted to keep up the routine you had, as you loved it was something just between you two.

He mentioned in his last letter that when you got home he would take some work off to spend time with you and wanted to know what you wanted to do in that time, he had a few ideas he said but also wanted to do things you wanted to do as well. You wrote back a few days ago that you wanted him to take you dancing as in one of the last calls you had, he was cooking dinner and had music on in the background and started dancing to make you laugh, he also told you that he and Tommy knew how to line dance and won an award when they were younger, so dancing was a must. You told him you also wanted to host a barbeque with him for Sarah, Tommy, and Maria, and maybe some neighbors too, you wanted to try his baby back ribs he kept going on about and you mentioned you made a really good mac and cheese, the two could be good together. You also asked what his ideas were, wanting to know a sneak peek.

—

August 4, 2014

14:43

You were taking inventory of supplies when your commanding officer came over, you stood to attention and saluted him.

“At ease soldier.” he said sternly.

You stood and put your hands behind your back, still standing respectfully, “Sir?”

“Pack your things, you and your partner are going to aid Delta 42.”

Delta 42. Instantly your stomach sank.

You all had heard of the destruction and loss of lives that happened there. You all called it ‘no man's land’ - no one made it out.

“Sir, may I ask how long this assignment is? To prepare?” you could feel your anxiety rising.

“3 days. You have 3 days to find a superior officer that has sent a distress signal and transport him back here before we pull you out with or without him and god willing with both of you still alive…” he said so unemotionally, so matter of factly, he knew he was sending you and Maria to your possible death.

“Sir, do we have coordinates?” you said, starting to disassociate.

“Everything will be given to you en route. You have 15 minutes…” he nodded and then turned to leave.

You felt your heart race start to race and your breathing became quick and panicked.

‘Breathe in through your nose, out through your mouth’ your mind annoyingly reminded you. You did so a few times and focused on calming your heart rate down.

“Ok… 15 minutes.” you put your clipboard down and ran out of the supply closet towards your bunkhouse. You changed quickly into your gear and then packed what you needed into your bag. You grabbed the photo you have on your mirror of Joel and Sarah and put it into your vest pocket that laid over your heart. Maria came running in shortly after, doing the same thing. Both of you frantically getting your bearings, panicking internally.

You looked at the time, 8 minutes.

Joel and Z. You needed to alert both of them to the situation.

Joel first. You did the math quickly in your head, it was close to 1 am where he was, so you tried calling him, no answer.

“Fuck. Please answer…” you said to the screen.

You tried calling again, no answer, status: offline.

You looked at Maria, she was trying the same thing with Tommy, “You getting him either?”

She shook her head and sighed.

You slammed your hands against the desk, frustrated, feeling so much pressure, “Fuck! 15 minutes isn’t enough!”

You looked at the time, 5 minutes.

You frantically typed:

‘Joel, I was just notified that Maria and I are being sent on an immediate field assignment. Please answer… I need to talk to you.’

You waited for 30 seconds, watching the clock climb closer to the time you needed to leave.

‘Joel, baby, please answer me.’

You tried calling again, no answer.

You sighed heavily and tears began to fall against your cheeks. You had so much to say to him in case you didn’t make it back. You needed to hear his voice one more time.

You took a breath and looked over at Maria, she had no luck either.

You swallowed and debated telling him how severe this was, you didn’t want him to stress for the next few days, but you wanted to say things that would only be said in the event of something serious happening.

You were having an internal battle with yourself that you couldn’t afford to have with the little time you possessed.

Fuck it.

‘I will be back in 3 days. 3 days. I’ll come back to you, I promise. And if by some cruelty I break that promise, just know, you have never left my mind since we met and you won’t until my last breath. You are my waking thought, my sweet dream, and everything in between.’

‘You will always be the one I long for, the love I would cross the universe to find.’

You sobbed, genuinely not knowing if you would now get the chance to say those three words to him, the words he deserves to know you felt for him.

‘I love you cowboy, and I’ll do everything I can to get back to you to tell you that in person.’

You looked at the clock, 3 minutes, you cursed as you shut your laptop “I need to find Z.” you said to yourself and Maria before grabbing your bag and rifle and running out of the bunkhouse. Maria running after you shortly after.

You had no idea where to find him, you hadn’t seen him all day.

“Z?” you frantically looked in the med tent for him, but he wasn’t there.

“Z!” you shouted, Maria as well.

Reggie looked at you both, confused and now concerned seeing how frantic you both were, “What’s going on?”

You looked at Reggie, and you had tears welling up, “We are going to no man’s land. Where’s Z?”

Reggie’s face dropped, “I uh, I don’t know, he usually is by the field if he’s not here…” You instantly bolted that way, you had less than two minutes before you needed to be on that aircraft.

“Z! Azzami!!” you practically screamed, trying to spot him as you ran.

Maria shouted at you “Y/N, we gotta go! We can’t wait any longer… Reggie will tell him!”

You stopped and looked back at her “I- we… what if we don’t make it back?” you sobbed.

“He knows. He already knows we love him.” Maria said, tears streaming down her face as well.

You dropped to your knees, feeling defeated by the situation, so you yelled out loud in frustration, hurting your lungs and ribs. This isn’t supposed to happen.

Maria felt the same way and came up to you and touched your shoulder, “We need to go. We are going to be late.”

You looked at her and took a deep breath then wiped your eyes and shoved everything down and stood back up. “We’re making it back, together, yeah?”

Maria put her forehead against yours and nodded, “Yeah, you and me. We got this.”

You nodded, “Ok, let’s go.” then you both took off running towards the aircraft waiting to take the both of you to the next three days of absolute hell.

Joel’s POV

Joel woke up to getting texts and calls from Tommy, at 5 am. He had at least another hour to sleep but when he turned over and looked at his phone he saw he had 4 missed calls and 9 messages from Tommy.

His heart dropped, his breathing hitched and he immediately thought about you.

He scrambled out of his bed, knocking things off his nightstand, and ran downstairs to his office, opening up to laptop.

He saw 8 notifications on his Skype.

“Fuck.” he opened up yours and his chat log and started reading.

Tears started to gather in his eyes, his heart pounding as he read, panicking by how you were talking. Where were you going? What danger are you getting thrown into? Thousands of thoughts swarmed his mind and then they all stopped when he read,

‘I love you cowboy, and I’ll do everything I can to get back to you to tell you that in person.’

He couldn’t help but smile for a moment, holding onto that feeling, that you love him, but he was brought right back to reality and fell to his knees and softly sobbed.

This can’t be happening. I can’t lose her. I love her and never got the chance to say it back. He thought to himself. He didn’t know what to do, he felt so helpless, everything was out of his control.

His phone buzzed again against his desk, a call from Tommy.

He grabbed it and leaned up against the wall behind his desk, the room dark, the house silent, Sarah still peacefully asleep.

He sighed and leaned his head against the wall behind him, “Hey…”

Tommy seemed just as distraught to Joel’s surprise. He knew Tommy and Maria liked each other as you told him in confidence but he didn’t know it was like this.

“What did Y/N say? Maria said they were going on a field assignment, some idiot general sent a distress signal and they are sending them in to get him, she said it would be a few days… Joel she was sayin’ things...” his voice cracked.

“I know.” Joel sniffled. “Y/N said similar things…” he chuckled sadly. “Things you only say if you think you’re about to die.” he pinched the bridge of his nose. “Tommy please tell me what the hell is going on, what did they get thrown into, what are their odds?” he said softly.

Tommy sighed, sniffing as well, “Depending on the area, they could be going into an active combat zone, or they could just be going on a wild goose chase, with the possibility of being an open target. I don’t know man, I just know for them to send only two medics means they want less attention drawn which to me means they could be going into active combat for which they’ll most likely be going in with a combat specialist to assist.”

Joel sighed, “Ok, so if they do go with someone trained in combat that’s better than nothing, right?”

Tommy bit his inner cheek, “I guess, I just… why them?”

“They are some of the best in their area and Reggie right now is partnerless. Y/N said he isn’t supposed to get someone ‘til next week, they can’t send him solo.”

Joel was right, they won’t send Reggie alone and they weren’t going to separate you and Maria. However whether you liked it or not, you two had the lowest mortality rate in the region and worked well as a team. It was a no-brainer to send you on this assignment.

“Will you keep me posted if you hear anything sooner and I’ll do the same?” Tommy asked.

“Of course. I’ll uh.. See you in a few hours at the office, yeah?” Joel scratched his head, he was now up for the day, and he wouldn’t be able to sleep with this news. And he didn’t sleep very well for the next 3 days.

Reader’s POV

As soon as you and Maria got into the aircraft and buckled in, it took off.

Maria and you looked down at the open door, watching you fly away from what you knew as safety.

You turned your head and noticed another soldier across from you, looking stoic, and composed.

The pilot came on the intercom, “We are headed to Delta 42, this is an active combat zone. Everything will be there, tanks, snipers, missile strikes, you are going to no man’s land!”

You took deep breaths, trying to stay calm, get into the zone, and focus.

“Private Coleman is Special Forces, para-rescue. He’s going to be your protection and guide. Your jobs are to not only get out with Captain Williams but get all 3 of you as well out alive.”

Coleman nodded at you both and gripped his rifle closer to himself, “Good to meet ya’ll. Let’s make it back home, yeah?”

You and Maria both nodded, cracking a smile, “I like your attitude.” you said over the comms. “We are on a first-name basis, I’m Y/N and this is my partner, Maria.” you tapped Maria with your elbow, and she nodded.

“I’m Jack.” he looked out the window. “We are going to touch down, we are all 3 going to get out and run to the southwest wall, from there we will gather our bearings and make a plan. We have at least a 5-mile radius to cover before we get to Captain’s coordinates.” he looked back at you two, “Any questions?”

“Yeah, how are you not shitting yourself right now?” Maria asked, internally freaking out.

Jack laughed, “I’ve been in and out of here 4 times ladies, I’ve already done that the first two times…”

A brief wave of relief washed over you. He’s been here 4 times. Someone that knows the area and threats, we’re gonna be ok, you told yourself over and over internally.

The pilot came on comms, “Alright, we are descending, get ready!”

You all three unbuckled and grabbed your things, strapping your backpack on and putting your rifle over you, pulling out your necklace charm from under all your gear, putting it to your lips, and kissing it.

You grabbed a bar above your head to hold on and watched as the aircraft descended slowly towards the ground.

You took a deep breath and let it out slowly.

“I have heat signatures coming from your east, take cover as soon as your feet hit the ground!” the pilot said through the comms system before shouting “Now! Go! Go!”

You all three jumped out, the aircraft about 3 feet from the ground.

As soon as your feet hit, the aircraft took a sharp turn and started firing rounds to your east. You all three ran immediately to find cover.

You felt a bullet fly past your left arm. You fell to the ground to take cover then rolled onto your back and sat your head up to look through your scope, saw the target, and pulled the trigger, landing a blow the their shoulder.

You stood back up and ran towards Maria and Jack to catch up.

You all made it to the southwest wall. Explosions and gunfire happening all around you.

Jack shouted, “Ok, the sooner we get this sack of shit, the sooner we can get out of here! We are to move up south to these coordinates, that’s where his distress signal was sent from.” he showed his GPS.

“What happens if we get there and he’s dead?” you asked.

“Still need to get him home! We call for an airborne rescue and take the body…” he shouted back.

You nodded and ducked as something hit the wall above you knocking debris onto you.

“Alright, let’s get to work!” he smiled and started walking towards the destination.

–

For the past two days, you’ve been shot at, missiles and grenades exploding around you. You don’t know if your hearing will ever be the same. You helped those that were wounded around you and then would instruct them if they could make it out the southeast wall and travel north there was a safe haven camp 2 miles that way. Anyone however who was not an Allied force and injured was immediately killed by Jack. He had no empathy for the enemy, and after what you had seen, neither did you.

You were less than a mile from the Captain’s coordinates when you heard someone from behind you, as you turned to see, you were cut in the arm by a knife, “Fuck!” you saw a man with a hand knife make another swing at you, you stepped back and shot his knee cap to disarm him, he fell to the ground and then before you could do anything else Jack shot him in the chest.

You stood there in shock for a second, breathing sharp and fast.

That could have ended so much differently, I could have died. You thought. You gripped your rifle, trying to ground yourself, but then quickly turned to the side and vomited.

“You good?” Maria asked, touching your shoulder.

You nodded and wiped your mouth with your hand, “Yeah, just nerves and starving… not a good mix.”

Jack looked at you both then you, “You’re bleeding…”

You looked at your arm, “Shit.”

Maria looked at you and pulled out her kit, “I got it. You’ll need to clean it when we get home but here…” She sprayed some bacterial spray and then wrapped it with some gauze and tape. “That’ll hold.” she softly smiled at you and you smiled at her, “Thanks partner.” she nodded.

“We have until the morning to get to the coordinates. Let’s take a 2-hour break, get something in our systems, rest up, and then push through the night, yeah?”

You nodded and so did Maria.

You all found a small abandoned house and took turns taking 30-minute naps, grabbed something to eat from your packs, and got something to drink.

You took off your helmet, put it in your lap, and leaned your head against the wall behind you. Almost there, just a little bit longer.

You pulled out the picture of Joel and Sarah and smiled softly. The house you were in shook as a nearby explosion happened, you ducked your head down and instinctually grabbed your necklace.

Once the shaking stopped you looked back at the picture and gently brushed your finger against it, thinking of what life will be like with them once you’re out of here. Holding onto that, keeping that in the back of your head for the next 24 hours.

Jack stood up and pulled a map out of his pack, “Ok, we are right here.” he pointed to an area on the map, “Williams is here.” he pointed to another location a little further south. You and Maria looked at the map.

“What if we went down this road? It's covered by overhead coverings… looks like it may have been a marketplace before…” you pointed to a road to the east of your location which would lead directly to the coordinates, “It would give us cover to move faster and avoid getting hit potentially from above?”

Jack looked at your suggestion, “Maria, any suggestions?” he looked her way.

She shook her head, “If she suggests we go that way, I trust her suggestion.”

Jack looked at you, and took a breath, thinking, “My only concern is if it was a marketplace and has that overhead coverage, it might be a camp base for the enemy.”

You thought for a second, “What if we threw a smoke bomb in? If anyone would be in there, it would create movement, and if it’s invaded, we just walk away and go just up here?” pointing to the main road. “Main road will take longer but it’ll be plan B. The hope would be this road works…”

Jack nodded, “That’ll work. How many smoke bombs do we have?”

“We each have two, that’s 6 total. We have maybe a thousand yards to location… if we throw one every 150 yards we can scope out targets and create a cover for us.” Maria said.

Jack looked at you and Maria, “That’ll work.” he nodded, “Ok, pack up, we can use the lack of light tonight for further coverage.”

You both nodded and gathered your things. You put your helmet back on and put the photo back in your vest pocket after kissing it gently.

Jack looked at you then Maria, “If anything happens to me, you need to grab my radio, and once you get to Willams, carry him to a rooftop nearby and turn to channel 5. Call for Alpha 402, tell them where you are, and they will send a rescue aircraft within minutes.”

You both nodded.

He nodded back and then you all started heading to the road you hoped to take. Praying this would be a simple task now that you’ve made it this far, hoping this would be over soon.

—

You made it down the road with 4 smoke bombs and no movement, you had around 200 yards to go. You kept telling yourself that was easy, that’s 2 football fields.

Jack threw the 5th smoke bomb and waited, scoping out and watching the terrain in front of you. No movement, no sound, it was quiet.

Too quiet.

“We need to run…” Jack said all of a sudden.

“What?” Maria said, not grasping what he said.

“There’s no sound, no birds, nothing, something is going to happen. We need to run,” he said quietly.

All of sudden you heard sirens, sirens signaling only one thing.

“Fuck. Run!” Jack said running, you grabbed Maria’s hand and pulled her with you.

You ran for your life. The sirens got louder the more you ran.

Jack yelled “Over here!” he cut to the left and like a miracle you saw someone peeking out for the rubble, it was the Captain.

You and Maria immediately ran over to him and knelt, you quickly checked his pulse, it was weak but there.

You looked and saw he had an abdominal injury as well as a broken leg.

“Maria, splint the leg fast, I’ll pack the abdominal wound.” you looked up around you for the tallest building.

“Jack, call for air support immediately after we finish addressing these injuries to that building…” you nodded towards a tall building.

He nodded and kept a lookout, “We need to get him moved, hurry!”

You packed the wound as best you could and gave him a shot of morphine quickly. Maria splinted the leg and also sprayed it with that same antibacterial spray.

“Ok done.” you said, looking at Maria.

“Me too, done.” she said.

Jack pulled out his radio and called for air support, expressing that you were in the middle of a possible missile drop and that air support was needed immediately.

You stood up and grabbed Williams, picking him up like you did with Terrance. “Let's go, we have stairs to fucking climb, and I wanna get the fuck home…” you said straining starting to walk towards the building. As you entered the building you heard gunshots from behind you, you turned to find Maria on the ground, bleeding.

“Maria!” you shouted.

Jack shot back towards where the shots were coming from and then took cover in the building you were in, “Let’s go! She’s gone.”

You shook your head, you could tell she was still alive, “No, she needs help! Jack, she needs help!”

“Listen I’m not here to get her to safety, I’m here to get him. We need to move.” he pushed you towards the stairs.

You looked at him in disbelief, anger brewing, “Then you get him out. I’m not leaving without her.” you set the Captain down, grabbed the radio he had on his belt, and started walking back out.

“You’ll never make it! Don’t be stupid!” Jack shouted as he lifted the Captain over his shoulder.

“She’s my sister, I’m not leaving her…” you said as you ran back out to her.

Maria was 20 feet from the building. A few shots went past you, you shot back a few times and then threw the last one of your smoke bombs to create some cover.

You got to her and dragged her to some cover nearby. She was shot in the shoulder and stomach.

“You need to go, leave me.” she said, breath ragged and uneven.

“Maria shut up. I’m not leaving you.” you said, putting pressure on her stomach.

You looked up at the sky and didn’t see a plane coming in yet, you had time.

You hurried and gave her a shot of morphine and then packed her abdomen, “I’m going to carry you. We’re going to make it. I need you to take my pistol and shoot anyone you see behind us until we get into that building, got it?”

Maria shook her head, tears streaming, “Y/N, please, you need to leave me, I’m dead weight.”

“Maria, I made a promise to your parents I would take care of you, and you and I made a deal on that fucking plane we were both making it back, now shut up and say you’ll cover my back!” you shouted at her, focusing on packing her wound.

She looked at you, tears streaming, she was scared.

“I’m not leaving without you.” you looked at her, and shook your head, “You would do the same for me.”

She nodded, and chuckled, “You’re so annoyingly stubborn.”

You chuckled and smiled at her, “Yes I am, which is why we will make it out of here.”

You finished packing her wound and then zipped her vest back up to cover it, keeping it in place, “Ok, ready?”

She nodded and you handed her your pistol. You then grabbed a grenade you had and threw it to make some cover. You grabbed Maria’s arm swung her around your shoulders and started running to the building.

She fired a couple of shots and from what you could tell hit something or someone.

You got inside and looked up, you had at least 12 flights to climb, “You owe me.” you said with a chuckle before you started climbing the stairs, adrenaline driving you. More than halfway up you heard the sound of a plane nearby.

“Fuck we gotta move. Hold onto me!” you shouted.

She wrapped around you as best she could and gripped your vest.

Your legs were burning, your heart pounding so hard you felt like it was going to burst, but you knew you needed to keep pushing.

You made it to the top floor and Jack was loading the Captain in.

“Wait!” you called slamming the door open.

Jack looked back and saw you, yelled at the pilot to hold on, and leaned out of the cockpit to help you load Maria in.

You stepped and grabbed the handle to load yourself in when you felt something hit the side of your leg, you looked down and saw blood, “Fuck.” you looked behind you and before you could react or shoot, Jack fired a round, “Get in!” you pulled yourself in and sat on the floor.

“Ok, Robbie let’s get the fuck out of here!” Jack shouted and you felt the plane pull up and turn towards safety.

You immediately assessed your leg, starting to spray bacterial spray and then wrapping it with gauze and a wrap, hard-wired when seeing blood to address it.

You looked over at Maria after and she was already looking at you. You started laughing, “We did it.”

You chuckled which turned into a laugh, “Fuck, yeah we did!”

Jack joined in, and you looked over at him, sarcastically saying “Fuck you, saying I wouldn’t make it.”

He chuckled, “Shouldn’t have underestimated your stubbornness…”

Maria laughed louder, “No, no you shouldn’t have!”

You all three were in a fit of giggles when the pilot came through the intercom, “We need to divert to Delta 27, Delta 30 is under attack.” you all stopped laughing and you looked at Maria.

Z and Reggie.

You pulled yourself up and limped towards the cock pit, “What do you mean under attack?”

“I just got a message that the enemy opened fire on it, with several casualties, it’s not safe to land.”

Your heart immediately dropped, “But… I got people there… we have family, please, just… just drop me down, you don’t have to land, I can do a drop-off. Take them to 27… Please.”

Jack came up behind you, “Drop us down, they’ll need reinforcements.”

The pilot looked at you both and nodded, “Fine but just so you know you’re going back into an active combat area.” He started to turn the craft back towards your camp.

“No disrespect sir but we were just in no man’s land, this will be nothing...” you said looking at Jack, he nodded, agreeing.

You went back and knelt by Maria, taking her hand, “I need you to get in contact with Tommy and Joel. I need you to tell Joel I will be ok and I will call him as soon as I can but I needed to get Z and Reggie. Tell him…” you paused, thinking of what to tell him, “Tell him I meant my last message with everything in me and I’ll keep my promise, it’s just taking me longer, but I’ll make it back.”

She nodded and looked at you, “Promise me you’ll call me when you’re somewhere safe.”

You nodded and gripped her hand. “I promise. You get some help and stay alive until I get to you, deal?” she nodded and chuckled.

You stood and looked at Jack, “We are looking for a kid named Z and the medic here, his name is Reggie. We get them to safety first then we reinforce.”

He nodded, “Got it.”

You let out a shaky breath and looked down at the camp, explosions and smoke everywhere.

“This as close as I can get!” the pilot said. He hovered over a building, you let out the rope ladder and slid down, Jack following behind you.

“Alright, follow me, I think I know where to find Z.” you said as you headed down the stairs.

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