#does this count as. no nah it’s not specific enough

[thereareeyesinsidethetrees]

mentioned the skeletons a few times now but haven’t really said anything about the individual ocs so we’ll reblog some posts for like. ten of them

[vinnyvamppp]

I NEED A FIC OF THE NO GOGGLES MARK VARIANT!!!

specifically make him THAT KINDA FREAK we already know he loves to toy with others (from his battle with the Guards of the Globe) and is crazy asf with a sense of dark humor. My fic idea is where he’s with his gf and this is their first time having sex tg and she doesn’t know about his kinks or anything since she would just take his comments of him telling her to ‘try to choke him’ or basically to inflict pain on each other as a joke.

Slap Me Silly

Note: This is yummy, we like this, we NEED this. I've seen maybe two fics have elements of this, so lemme just—slide myself in. (the pic is a hint SOMEONE TIE HIM UP)

Warnings: Nipple play (most male receiving), Switch Lenless!Mark, Dom!Reader, Riding, SadoMasochism, Tit Squeezing, Biting, Dark Humor, Choking, Degrading, "Good Boy", Slapping, Dirty Talk, Porn w a Plot, Smut, and ofc the over usage of 'Dude'. Synopsis: The title is self explanatory... buckle up.

No Goggles/Lensless!Mark x Dom!Fem Reader

Word Count: 2,303

The apartment is quiet, save for the occasional hum of traffic outside and the soft rustle of fabric as you shift on the couch. Mark is stretched out beside you, legs spread like he owns the place—because, in his mind, he does. His grin is lazy, all teeth, and his dark eyes flick toward you with that ever-present glint of mischief.

“You keep staring at me like that, babe,” he murmurs, tilting his head against the couch cushion, “and I’m gonna start thinking you actually like me.” You roll your eyes, biting back a smile. “God forbid.” He chuckles, low and amused, and suddenly he’s closer—leaning in like he’s got a secret to tell. “Nah, I think you do,” he teases, his breath warm against your jaw. “Like, a lot.” You scoff, pushing at his chest. “You wish.” Mark lets himself fall back dramatically, spreading his arms out like he’s been struck. “Right in the heart. Dude! That was brutal.” Rolling your eyes, you reply. “You’ll live,” you deadpan.

“Oh, I always live.” He winks, and for a second, there’s something in his expression, something dark and knowing, a reminder of just how much weight those words actually carry. But then it’s gone, replaced by that ever-present smugness. His fingers drum against his thigh. “Y’know, I’ve been thinking.”

“Dangerous.”

“Ha. Ha.” He smirks. “No, but really—since we’re both so hopelessly in love or whatever—” You snort, but he ignores you. “—don’t you think it’s weird that we haven’t, y’know, done anything yet?” His eyebrows lift, feigning innocence. “Not that I’m complaining. I like a good slow burn. Gets me all antsy and horny.” Your stomach tightens. It’s not like you haven’t thought about it. Mark is—well, Mark. Infuriating, cocky, always pushing just to see how far he can go. But he’s also magnetic in a way that makes it impossible to look away. And when he wants something? He gets it.

Still, you manage to play it cool. “I figured you’d explode if you went more than a week without getting laid.” Mark grins, tilting his head. “I do like explosions.”

You shake your head, but before you can throw another sarcastic remark his way, he moves. Fast. Not using his full speed—he’s learned his lesson about freaking you out like that—but enough to make your breath hitch as he’s suddenly towering over you, hands braced on either side of your hips. “Wanna hear something funny?” he asks, voice dropping just enough to make your pulse quicken.

You swallow. “That depends.” His fingers trail up your arm, barely touching, just enough to send a shiver down your spine. “You remember all those times I told you to try and choke or slap me?” You let out a brief chuckle. “You mean when you were being weird?” Mark hums, lips twitching like he’s holding back a laugh. “See, that’s the thing—you think I was joking.”

Your breath catches. His eyes are half-lidded now, watching you with something between amusement and hunger. “…You weren’t?” Mark smirks. “Dude. You have no idea.” He leans in, brushing his nose against yours. You stare at him for a second, searching his face for any sign that he’s messing with you. Nothing. Just that same cocky, lopsided smirk—like he knows something you don’t. His grin progressively widens as you open your mouth to speak, “You have to be kidding.” Mark tilts his head, feigning offense. “Why would I joke about something so serious? Dude, I’m hurt.” Here he goes again with the dramatics. “Oh, I’ll hurt you, alright.” The words leave your mouth before you can grasp them, but Mark’s eyes light up like you just handed him a winning lottery ticket.

His lips part slightly, tongue flicking out to wet them. “Please do.” You let out a laugh—sharp, disbelieving. This idiot. He’s always like this. Pushing buttons just to see what happens. You stared, more interested than before, your head shaking. “You’re insane.” Mark doesn’t miss a beat. “And you love it.”

You roll your eyes and, without thinking, lift your hand and smack him across the face. A sharp pop echoed as your palm struck his cheek, snapping his head to the side. Not hard, just enough to wipe that smug look off him. Or, well. That was the intention. Because instead of looking shocked or offended, Mark just stares at you. Slow blinks. Chest rising and falling a little too deliberately. “…Holy shit.” He gasps, making you hesitate.

He lets out a breathy laugh, touching his cheek where you slapped him. Then, with a grin that is way too excited for comfort, he looks back at you. “Dude.” His dark eyes go heavy-lidded, lips parting slightly as he exhales slowly, shaky, and wrecked like you just did something unspeakably good to him, and he’s already desperate for more. You blink. “What?”

“Do that again.”

You pull back slightly in hesitation, wondering how you even scored this crazy fuck. Taking notice, Mark clicks his tongue, shaking his head like you just deeply disappointed him. “C’mon, Dude. Don’t be like that.” He leans in again, voice dipping lower. “I liked it.” Your stomach flips. You open your mouth two seconds away from calling him an absolute freak, but Mark beats you to it. “See, this is why I keep you around,” he muses, like he’s talking to himself. “You get me.” He rasps with an estranged fascination, seemingly savoring the sting against his cheek. “I literally do not—”

“—you do, though.” He gestures vaguely. “Even if you pretend you don’t. Which is, like, really cute, by the way.” He pauses dramatically with a slight sing song “And hot.” You exhale through your nose. Okay. Fine. He wants to be weird? You can be weirder. So, with the most exaggerated sigh you can manage, you lift your hand and slap him again. This time, it’s harder. The slap lands sharp and sudden, a crisp crack that echoes in the quiet room.

His skin is warm under your palm, the impact sending a fleeting sting through your fingers, while the faintest thrum of satisfaction lingers in the air between you. Mark's head tilts slightly from the force, but the way he laughs is low, throaty, and giddy. The kind that sends something hot and electric through your spine. His gaze snaps back to you, darker now. “Oh, yeah,” he breathes, voice thick with something you don’t quite know how to name yet. “That’s the stuff.” Your gaze flickered lower, his hips fidgeting. He was hard.

Mark leans in, close enough that you can feel the heat of his breath against your lips. He’s still grinning like he’s just won the lottery, panting like an excited mutt before he whispers, “…Your turn.” You took this as an invitation to explore his other kinks, his willingness empowering you like never before. The space between you ceased to exist in an instant, your bodies pulled together with an urgency that set your skin ablaze, his lips claiming yours like a force of nature. Groans filled the space within your mouths, his sloppy kisses trailing lower over your neck. You deserved such romance for your first time, but his body was already seething for more.

His hand reaches forward, fingers tingling with excitement as they curl around your throat. He forces you down against the couch, the pressure against your windpipe causing you to gasp. Before he could do more your hand lashes out, striking his cheek with a resounding slap. He paused, welcoming the change from his usual dominance. "Fuck yeah," he growls, his voice thick and eager. "Don't hold back, babe."

Emboldened further, you push him back and climb onto his lap, straddling his hips. You can feel his hard already weeping cock pressing against your clothed sex, the heat of him seeping through the thin fabric of your panties. You grab his throat, squeezing just enough to make him gasp. "You like this, don't you? Being used like a little bitch?" You insulted, testing the waters.

Mark's eyes flutter closed as he lets out a shuddering moan. "Yes," he hisses, his hips bucking up against you. "I fucking love it." His hands grip your thighs tightly, fingers digging into your skin.

You tighten your grip on his throat, feeling his pulse jump under your palm. "Beg for it," you demand, grinding your cunt against his straining erection. "Beg me to choke you while I ride your cock." Mark's eyes snap open, gleaming with satisfaction. "Please," he rasps, his voice strained from your hold. "Please, please, choke me while you use my dick. I want to feel you squeeze the air from my lungs as you cum all over me."

A thrill runs through you at his words, at the complete submission and desperation in his voice. You release his throat, only to fist your hand in his hair, yanking his head back. "Good boy," you purr, before crushing your lips against his in a fervent kiss. You rake your nails down his skin, leaving angry red lines in their wake.

You whimper into his mouth—his hands moving to your ass, squeezing and kneading the flesh. You can feel him throbbing against you, his cock leaking pre-cum into his pants. Breaking the kiss, you lean back and hastily remove your top—exposing your breasts to his hungry gaze. His fingers follow suit, bringing his shirt over his head as he refuses to blink even once. "Fuck yes, Mistress." He groans, voice strained as his eyes glued to your tits. "You're so goddamn sexy." His lips nearly prepared to worship you.

It was odd, you stared down at him enjoying the power you have over him. He could easily turn the tides at any moment, but he was so willing to fuck you with such courtesy. Your fingers gently tapped against his throat—just threatening—begging him to make a move that would cause your grip to tighten. Mark immediately sits back, panting and red-cheeked. You lift your hips, his hands shove down your panties and help you kick them off. Then, with a courage-building sigh, you line up his cock with your dripping entrance. Mark groans—hands flying to your hips. "Need to feel your tight pussy around my cock."

Without warning, he slams you down onto him, taking him to the hilt in one smooth motion. You both groan at the sudden intrusion—Mark's head falling back as his fingers dig into your hips hard enough to bruise. "Oh god," you moan, savoring the feeling of him stretching you open. "You're so fucking big, where were you hiding this thing?!"

"I'm gonna fill this pussy up so good," Mark declares between giggles, his hips starting to move beneath you. "Gonna pump you full of my cum until it's leaking out of you." The dirty words only spur you on. You start to ride him fast, your hips slamming down onto him as you chase your pleasure—barely allowing yourself to breathe. Your hand never leaves his throat, tightening and loosening in time with your movements. Mark's face is flushed—his eyes glassy with lust as he bucks up into you—meeting you thrust for thrust.

"Harder," you demand, squeezing his throat tighter, his eyes rolling back. "F-fuck me harder." Mark lets out a choked groan, but does as he's told, slamming up into you with renewed vigor. The new angle has him hitting depths you didn't know existed, making stars burst behind your eyelids with each thrust. You can feel the pressure building inside you, coiling tighter and tighter as he pounds into your g-spot. Releasing him from your ever-desired grip, he protests, his hips punctuating as you let out a yelp. “Dude..!” He whines, exasperated before a resounding clap echoes against his cheek, his face growing warm as blood swelled. “Again! Again…!” He encouraged, and you followed suit devilering smack after smack. The feeling only rousing him more as his hips pressed further.

Arching your back forward, your tongue finds the blistering streaks left from your nails. Soothing them with the soothing stroke of the muscle, you lick over his nipples—teeth tugging on them gently. The small buds hardened slightly from the cold air, and his grunt echoed from above. “Holy shit... yes!” Coming up for air, he returns the favor—hands leaving your ass and latching onto your tits as he squeezes them like stress balls. It's painful—he knows but he attones as his thumb traces rings around your areolas causing mild pleasure.

Your hands returned to his throat, tightening like a vice. With a strangled chuckle, his cock twitched inside you as he floods your pussy with his hot seed. The feeling of him pulsing inside you—the overwhelming sensations overloading your senses, and the obscene squelching sounds of his cum filling you pushes you over the edge. You throw your head back with a scream as your orgasm crashes over you—your cunt spasming as you gasp. Were orgasms always meant to feel this strong?

Mark groans as he feels you contracting around him. "Milk my cock dry. Take every last drop." You continue to ride him through your climax, grinding your clit against his pelvis until the last waves of pleasure fade away. When you finally collapse against his chest, both of you are panting and covered in sweat.

You could barely catch your breath when he spoke up. "Dude, we're definitely doing that again," you murmur against his chest, exhausted, he chuckles, his chest vibrating beneath you. "Hell yeah we are." He says to himself. Without missing another beat, you're suddenly flipped over—his cock hardened with renewed energy. "Ready for round two?" He asks, tracing patterns against your calves as he spreads your legs over his shoulders. Now it was truly your turn.

Can you guys tell I love submissive or freaky men? Hopefully, this fulfills your request!

MasterList ོ༘₊⁺☀︎₊⁺⋆.˚

[prettygirl-gabi]

Special Guest

Pairing: Paige Bueckers x Reader

POV: First-person

Fandom: UConn’s Women’s Basketball

Word Count: 1,500+

Summary: we have a special guest for the podcast

Tags: @paigeshirleytemple , @unknowgirlypop , @paigeluvvr , @melpthatsme , @authentic-girl03 , @lessi-lover , @courtsidewithlani

I adjust my mic and glance at Kayla, who’s lounging comfortably against my pillows, setting up her recording equipment.

“So, let me get this straight,” I start, tilting my head at her. “You, Kayla Williams, decided that my dorm—my bed, specifically—was the best place to record this episode?”

Kayla smirks. “You act like this isn’t the most comfortable setup ever. It’s cozy, it’s intimate, it’s giving vibes. Plus, do you really think I was about to record in one of those stiff chairs in the common room? Be so for real.”

I shake my head, laughing. “You just didn’t wanna book a studio.”

“Correct.” She grins, popping a piece of gum into her mouth. “Now, get comfy, and let’s start—”

Before she can finish, my dorm door swings open, and in walks Paige.

Scratch that—drags herself in.

She looks exhausted, still in her practice gear, her low ponytail a little frizzy from sweat, and her duffle bag barely hanging onto her shoulder. She doesn’t say anything, just lets out a deep sigh and makes a beeline for my bed.

“Uh, hey?” I say, watching as she tosses her bag to the floor, taking her ponytail out and flops onto the mattress like she’s been carrying the weight of the world on her shoulders.

Without hesitation, she burrows into me, laying her head directly on my stomach, her arms loosely wrapping around my waist.

I blink down at her. “Paige?”

She hums in response but doesn’t move.

Kayla raises an eyebrow. “Yo, is she good?”

“She had morning practice,” I explain, running a hand through Paige’s locs. “Guess it wiped her out.”

Kayla snickers. “Nah, this is crazy. She didn’t even say hi.”

I poke Paige’s shoulder. “You good, baby?”

Paige nuzzles deeper into me, sighing. “Mhm.”

“Wanna move?”

“No.”

I glance at Kayla, who’s grinning like she’s witnessing something hilarious.

“Oh, she’s whipped,” Kayla says, adjusting her mic. “You sure you still wanna record? Your girl looks real comfortable.”

I glance down at Paige, who’s already breathing slower, her body completely relaxed against mine.

“She’ll be fine,” I say, settling back into the pillows. “If she’s tired enough to fall asleep while we talk for an hour, she probably needs the rest.”

Kayla shakes her head, still smirking. “Alright, your relationship is crazy soft, but let’s get into it.”

She presses record, and just like that, we start the episode.

—

Thirty minutes in, Paige hasn’t moved an inch.

She’s completely knocked out, her breath warm against my hoodie, her arms still lazily wrapped around me. Every now and then, she shifts, sighs, or tightens her grip, but for the most part, she’s dead to the world.

Kayla, of course, is having way too much fun with this.

“Okay, so what I’m gathering,” she says, pointing at Paige’s sleeping form, “is that you got this superstar, face-of-UConn-basketball, Paige Bueckers, so down bad that she literally needs to be on you to function properly?”

I roll my eyes. “She’s just tired.”

Kayla gives me a look. “Nah, see, I’ve known Paige for a while, and I ain’t never seen her like this with anyone else.”

I fight a smile, absentmindedly running my fingers through Paige’s hair. “She likes being close to me. Is that a crime?”

Kayla grins. “Not at all. It’s just hilarious how you try to act all nonchalant about it.” She leans toward the mic dramatically. “Y’all, let it be known that Paige Bueckers is a clingy girlfriend. Possibly the clingiest.”

I chuckle, shaking my head. “She’s not that clingy.”

Kayla gestures at Paige. “Bro. She fell asleep on you mid-podcast. You might as well get her a ‘Property of Y/N’ shirt at this point.”

I bite my lip to keep from laughing. “She does have a hoodie that says ‘Y/N’s Favorite.’”

Kayla howls. “Oh, nah! That’s crazy. Ain’t no way.”

I nod, grinning. “Got it for her last Valentine’s Day.”

Kayla wipes a fake tear. “This is beautiful. True love.”

I shake my head, still smiling as we move on to the next topic.

—

By the time we wrap up the episode, Paige is still dead asleep.

Kayla stretches, cracking her knuckles. “Alright, that’s a wrap. Great episode, and we got bonus content of you being the human equivalent of a teddy bear.”

I snort. “Glad I could provide entertainment.”

Kayla stands, gathering her stuff. “I gotta bounce, but good luck getting your girl off you.” She nudges Paige’s leg. “Yo, Bueckers, you alive?”

Paige groans, barely lifting her head. “Barely.”

Kayla smirks. “Your girl’s free now. You gonna let her move?”

Paige ignores her, instead snuggling back into me, her voice muffled against my hoodie. “No.”

Kayla cackles. “Yeah, I’m outta here.”

She gives me a knowing look before heading for the door. “Text me when you finally escape.”

I roll my eyes. “Bye, Kayla.”

Once she’s gone, I glance down at Paige, brushing a few stray locs out of her face. “You good, sleepyhead?”

Paige hums. “Better now.”

I smile. “You slept through my whole podcast, you know.”

She grins sleepily, eyes still closed. “Best nap I’ve ever had.”

I sigh, shaking my head. “You’re so spoiled.”

She finally cracks one eye open, looking up at me with that soft, lazy smile of hers. “By you? Absolutely.”

I can’t even argue with that. Instead, I kiss her forehead, letting her sink back into me.

She’s gonna be wide awake later, and I should make her get up soon.

But for now?

I let her stay exactly where she is.

---

■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■

                 -Thank You For Reading!🩵🩶

                             -prettygirl-gabi🎀✨���

[luvergirl-535]

that’s so true

word count - 8.3k

pairing - paige bueckers x azzi fudd

c/w - language, toxic p/toxic relationship (situationship) (kinda toxic a too)? i guess you could call it angst? but it’s very unserious bc i’ve been doing too much serious stuff. fluff and happy ending. very dialogue heavy

a/n - i don’t usually like to incorporate music into my fics but the anon who gave this prompt specifically recommended it so i hope i did it justice! also, this takes place azzi’s freshman year so like 2021/2022, and i know this song didn’t exist then but this is fiction so i can do what i want 😛. hope yall enjoy!!!

They only have five minutes before they’re supposed to leave with everybody else to Ted’s. Unfortunately for Azzi, Paige Bueckers is very hot and also very much on top of her, and both of these things coincide to create quite the predicament: they can’t stop kissing.

It’s normal for them, lately. Kissing is easier than talking, considering talking has gotten harder since they started—whatever this is. Or maybe restarted is a better word, considering they did this same thing in high school. But back then, the kissing was a little clumsier, often fast and desperate, whereas now they’re older, mature (yeah, right) and they take their time with these things, often just making out for hours before they move on to other things, relishing in not having to worry about either of their parents or siblings barging in on them like they used to.

There’s also another difference—back then, they were dating. Like, introducing each other as their girlfriends, going on dates, holding-hands-in-public dating.

That’s different because today—and for the past six months—they’ve been decidedly not dating.

“We don’t need distractions,” Paige had said after they’d fucked, only a month after Azzi came to UConn. (They had both agreed to stay just friends—best friends—but nothing more. But then they had to live in the same building and watch each other get all hot and sweaty at practice and see each other in skimpy pajamas and who were they to blame, really, when they fucked in that club bathroom one heated but sober night? They had spent a year broken up, a year of being long-distance besties, FaceTiming and texting and posting each other on socials with captions like “happy birthday i miss you” and “come see me”. It honestly would’ve been wrong for them to not fuck.)

“Mm—Paige, wait,” Azzi whispers when they finally separate for air.

“What’s up,” Paige says, eyes roving over every inch of Azzi’s face. Her voice is a little raspy from lack of use and it does things to Azzi’s tummy.

“I—you don’t—we need to go,” Azzi urges, pushing at Paige’s shoulders. Paige, of course, just smiles at that, pressing her knee up in between Azzi’s legs. It’s really not her fault when she gasps a little.

Paige chuckles, leaning down to kiss her forehead, then between her eyebrows. “Do we?” she mumbles, pecking the tip of Azzi’s nose and the corner of her mouth. “Like, do we really?”

“Yes, Paige, we do.” Azzi moves one of her hands down to Paige’s occupied thigh, trying desperately to separate the toned muscle from her aching core. “C’mon, it’ll be fun.”

“Definitely not as much fun as this is.”

“Well, we can continue later, when we get home.” That gets Paige to move her knee back, offering Azzi both relief and leaving an ache between her legs. She does her best to flash a sultry smile. “It’s a weekend. We can stay up all night if we want.”

Paige looks at her skeptically. “I thought you were stayin’ sober?”

Azzi moves her head back and forth. “Might not.”

“For real?”

“Uh-huh.” Azzi winds her arms around Paige’s shoulders, then scratches a little roughly down the length of her back, something Paige has always been into. It works, Paige’s jaw dropping just enough to show the pink of her tongue. “I want it, too, P. We just can’t ditch the team again. I think they already suspect us.”

“What?” Paige makes a face and scoffs. “Nah, we’re sneaky.”

“You called me babe in front of everyone at practice.”

“That’s a friend thing.” Paige waggles her eyebrows and plants a kiss on her lips, as if to prove just how friendly they are.

“Nika saw you basically groping me the other day, too.”

“I never did that.”

“My apartment, the kitchen. Movie night. I was making popcorn and you came up behind me and grabbed my tits.”

“Hm. Don’t remember that.”

“You said ‘I wanna fuck you from behind right now,’ and poor Nika walked in and stared at us and said, ‘This doesn’t look like you’re making popcorn’.”

Paige groans, dropping her head into Azzi’s shoulder and effectively laying the entire length of her body on Azzi’s. “I did wanna fuck you from behind. You were wearing those jeans…”

“Paige!”

“Okay, whatever.” Paige is a little muffled now, buried in the crook of Azzi’s neck. Her breath tingles, sending hot shivers up the length of her arm. “I do that to everyone, Nika won’t think anything of it.”

“Oh, really,” Azzi says, tone dropping into something utterly unamused, and Paige’s head pops up when she hears it. “So you say things like that to every bitch?”

Paige’s eyes widen. “No!” she grapples for something to say, and Azzi just raises an eyebrow at her. “I don’t—I meant—I just didn’t wanna admit you’re right, I wasn’t—baby.” Paige juts out her bottom lip. It kinda works. “You know I wasn’t thinkin’.”

This is another interesting thing about their current situation: because they’re not dating, they’ve never discussed where they stand in terms of other people. Sure, at the very beginning, they agreed since it was just casual sex, there was no reason for them to be exclusive. They didn’t want to get anywhere near that line of the all-consuming, intense relationship they had in high school, and they figured seeing other people—or at least having the option to do so—would steer them clear of that. And it worked for about…two seconds.

But then somewhere down the line things got a little blurry and slowly but surely Azzi stopped thinking of them as friends with benefits and as more of a slightly complicated but also fun situationship. Because at some point they started kissing without the goal of sex or even third base, just little pecks here and there when they had a second alone. And then they started staying a little longer each time after they’d fuck—at first, they’d leave directly after. But then they would stay for some basic aftercare, and then it got to full-on snuggling, and then it got to their clothes in each other’s apartments from how often they’d stay the night with each other. And the most recent development which really cemented things for Azzi: Paige has started using pet names outside the bedroom, something she only ever did while they were girlfriends. It’s only been a few weeks since this started and Azzi was absolutely floored when Paige had picked up her phone call with a, “Hey, baby.”

And now here they are, late for yet another night out because Paige is very clearly scandalized at the mere notion of her seeing another girl—even though it’s supposed to be allowed—and Azzi has to be honest, she doesn’t love the idea, either.

“Aw, c’mon,” Paige says when Azzi doesn’t reply. “Don’t be mad at me, mama.”

Azzi blinks up at her, officially not jealous and not overthinking about their complicated situation any longer. “You’re stupid,” she teases, scooting back and sitting up.

Paige follows closely, so that by the time Azzi is propped up against the headboard she’s on her lap. “You’re really stopping us?” she asks.

“We’re already late, I’m sure everybody left without us,” Azzi says, tapping Paige encouragingly on the hip, “so yes.”

Paige doesn’t yet move and doesn’t look like she’s going to until a sharp knock at the door makes both of them jolt. “Hey!” It’s Aaliyah’s voice. “Y’all cannot be taking this long to get ready.”

“I don’t…we just…” Azzi stammers as Paige scrambles off her, and they both get quickly to their feet, making as little noise as possible, “our hair wasn’t cooperating,” she says, reaching up to fix Paige’s tousled hair. “We’ll be right out!”

“You better be, we’re all waiting outside and it’s fucking cold.”

“Coming!” Azzi calls, letting Paige wipe some of her smudged lip gloss, rolling her eyes when Paige smirks at her and says, “Oh, you will be.”

She has no idea what Paige Bueckers is to her, but an annoyance will always take the top spot.

————————————————

When Azzi had claimed she’d stay sober with the other freshmen, she hadn’t accounted for the fact that she has a best friend who loves to party and who loves peer pressuring even more.

“C’mon, just a few shots,” Paige pouts, leaning in too close to her. Azzi glances around the bar, trying to see if anybody is watching them, but she can’t tell. There’s too many people.

“Nobody can hear us,” Paige assures her, placing her hands low on Azzi’s hips, pressing her into the wall of the corner they’re semi-hidden in.

Azzi swears this girl is horrible for her blood pressure. “Paige,” she hisses, removing Paige’s hands, “not here.”

“You shoulda let us stay home,” Paige says, and now that her hands are placed firmly at her sides her eyes do all the wandering for them, raking slowly down Azzi’s body and back up. “I woulda had you fucked out by now, I swear.”

“Oh, I believe you,” Azzi mumbles.

“You seem anxious, baby.” Bravely, Paige holds her again, though this time it’s at a more friendly place, higher up on her waist. Azzi tries to meet her eyes but they’re held firmly on her lips. “Fuck. I wanna kiss you so bad.”

“No, Paige,” Azzi says, as sternly as possible. She would rather like to kiss her too, but not here, not now, not when Paige is tipsy and Azzi is horrendously sober.

“Okay, I’ma go get me another dirty shirley.” Azzi swears she would marry that drink if she could. “And I’ma grab a couple shots for you while I’m at it. And then we’re gonna fuck in the bathroom.”

Azzi smacks Paige on the arm. “I’m done with public restrooms. Once was enough.”

Paige, still sober enough to have some sort of common sense, wrinkles her nose. “Yeah, you’re right. But I’m still grabbing shots.” She smacks a wet kiss onto her forehead and with that, turns around to head toward the bar.

Azzi doesn’t get a second of peace before someone else is sidling up to her. Though when she looks over she sighs with relief when it’s just Caroline. “Hey, Carol.”

“You’re so lucky you have a girlfriend who’ll buy you shots,” Caroline says, looking wistfully in Paige’s direction.

“She’s not my girlfriend.”

Caroline side-eyes her. “Uh-huh.”

“She’s not. We broke up.”

“And then got back together.”

Azzi shoves her away before pulling her back, linking their arms together as she leads them towards their team’s section of seats. “Nope. We’re still exes.”

“Exes who are romantically involved.”

“Carol,” Azzi groans, urging her to shut up as they approach the rest of the girls. “We’re just friends.”

It used to leave a bitter taste in her mouth, lying to her closest friend, the one whose shoulder she cried on when she and Paige broke up. But after six months of doing it, she’s used to it. And it’s not like Caroline believes her, anyway.

“Okay,” Caroline says skeptically. “So if the guy that’s been looking at you since we got here asked for your number, you’d give it to him?”

They’re at the team’s booth now, and Amari perks up at the mention of the slightest possibility of drama. “What guy?”

“I haven’t noticed a guy,” Azzi says, which is the truth. As it usually goes, she’s only had eyes for Paige tonight.

“Over there,” Carol says, leaning against the table and gesturing subtly across the bar. “Muscle shirt.”

“Immediately no,” Azzi replies, not even looking for him in the group of guys across the room. But he must be actively searching her out because just as she’s about to look away she catches his eye, and even though she immediately looks away, she can still see him grin out of the corner of her eye.

“Uh-oh,” Amari mutters. “You engaged him.”

“Don’t make eye contact,” Azzi says, turning away from him to face her friends. “Make yourself unapproachable.”

Caroline turns away, too, and the two of them lean over the table.

Aaliyah looks up from the conversation she was having. “What’re you guys doing?”

“Hiding,” Azzi hisses.

Amari peeks around Azzi’s shoulder, then settles back in her seat. “He’s coming over.”

“What?” Azzi wants to look at him but doesn’t, instead inching herself closer to Caroline. “Save me.”

“Who is that?” Aaliyah asks, not-so-subtly staring at the guy.

“A man about to flirt with Azzi,” Caroline says, nudging her away.

“Oh, Paige is gonna be maddd,” Aaliyah sing-songs, and they all giggle like this is funny and not absolutely awkward and stress-inducing.

Azzi glares at them. “She has no reason to be mad.” And it’s true, she kind of doesn’t, but that doesn’t mean she won’t.

“Oh, yeah?” Caroline asks, glancing behind them just as Azzi feels the man come up behind her. “We’ll see about that.”

And then there’s a tap on her shoulder, and Azzi takes a deep breath before turning around with a strained smile on her face.

“Hey.” Muscle shirt is standing a little too close for comfort, which she’s sure he’ll excuse by the crowded bar but is obviously just him being weird. “You’re Azzi, right?”

“Uh-huh,” Azzi says, leaning back against the table.

“I’ve seen you around,” he continues, smiling cockily, obviously very proud of himself for being brave enough to approach her. “You come here a lot, right? To Ted’s?”

Azzi shrugs, looking casually to her side in the hopes that Caroline will rescue her, but to her astonishment she has slid into the booth next to Aaliyah and is now chatting happily with the rest of the team. “I guess.”

“Noticed you weren’t with Bueckers,” he says, and she winces. Not five sentences into the conversation and he’s already brought up her current situationship. “Thought it was a good opening.” He laughs. She doesn’t.

“How so?” she asks, a little nervously.

“I mean, she obviously doesn’t want anybody coming near you.” A girl squeezes past behind him and he takes it as an excuse to inch even closer to her. Azzi presses herself further back into the table. “Can’t even look your way without her looking like she’s gonna fight someone.”

“She’s just protective,” Azzi says. As if Paige would do that for any of their friends, as if that level of pure possessiveness is normal.

“Right.” He doesn’t sound fully convinced. “You didn’t ask my name.”

God. Why are men so…gross? “My bad.” He stares at her expectantly. “Uh…so…?”

“I’m Elliot,” he says, grinning at her. That muscle shirt is really not doing good things for him. “You want me to buy you a drink?”

“Um, actually—“

“She’s good.”

Azzi’s shoulders sag at the mere sound of Paige’s voice. She can’t help but smile when Paige approaches them, moving roughly past Elliot to sidle up next to her. She hands her two brightly colored shots before slinging an arm around her, firmly ignoring Elliot. “Gotchu these. Lemme know if you don’t like ‘em.”

Azzi nods, and usually she’d shy away from the physical contact, especially right in front of their friends, but now she leans into it, safe under Paige’s arm. “Thanks.”

“Sorry I took so long.” As if sensing her discomfort—which she probably can—she rubs her thumb soothingly over her shoulder. “They’re super busy up there. You okay?”

Azzi opens her mouth to respond, but Elliot interrupts her. “She’s fine, dude. We’re just talking.”

Paige looks at him. “Aight. Well, you can be done talking now.”

Their teammates have gone mostly quiet behind them, and Azzi rolls her eyes when she hears them snickering.

Elliot scoffs, but he’s skinny and a little shorter than Paige, and when her arm tightens around Azzi’s shoulder he puts his hands up. “Damn, okay.”

Azzi breathes a sigh of relief when he’s gone. “Thank god. That was so awkward.”

“You shoulda called me,” Paige says, dropping her arm to turn around and face their teammates. “And y’all shoulda helped her out.”

The girls look up at them innocently. Amari smiles charmingly at Paige and says, “We knew you were gonna do it soon enough.”

Azzi shakes her head and downs one of the shots. It is as disgusting as it looks.

“You guys suck,” Paige says, pulling Azzi into her side once again. “Leaving my girl in the trenches like that.”

Dozens of eyebrows raise at that, and it’s then that Azzi smells the booze on Paige’s breath. She flushes, trying to pull away. “P,” she mutters.

“I know,” Paige says, holding fast to Azzi’s waist, setting her shirley on the table so she can wrap the other around her, too.

“Paige,” Azzi urges, pressed completely now into Paige’s chest and trying desperately to ignore the scrutinizing looks from her teammates. She hopes they’re all too drunk to think hard about Paige’s behavior.

“Yeah,” Paige says, her hand creeping slowly down Azzi’s back.

“Did you have another drink?” Azzi asks, trying to walk them away from the booth, but Paige keeps her feet planted.

“I might’ve had another shot.” Paige grins, and Azzi would easily admit she likes it a lot more than muscle shirt’s. “Missed you, baby.”

The girls are pretending not to eavesdrop, but they’re clearly listening, sharing furtive glances with each other. Which is just—great. Because tomorrow the girls are going to have questions and Paige will be sober enough for that to stress her out, which will in turn stress Azzi out, and there will be no saving face if she lets Paige continue on like this.

“Not now, Paige,” she hisses, trying desperately to push her back.

Paige pouts. Their faces are far too close together. “What, you wanna go back to that guy or sum’?”

Azzi knows she’s not serious, but it still annoys her, and she doesn’t feel quite as comforted in Paige’s arms anymore. “Seriously, I’m not in the mood.”

Paige scoffs, maybe a little more serious now. “Course you aren’t.”

Azzi blinks at her, and when Paige’s hands drop to her sides she takes a step back. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“I dunno.” Paige gestured between them. “Just that you never wanna be around me unless we’re fu—“

Azzi’s overstimulated and irritated, but she still has enough common sense to shove Paige hard enough to shut her up. “Don’t.”

Paige watches as Azzi drinks her other shot. “What? You really don’t want anybody to know, huh? You that embarrassed or something?”

Azzi shakes her head in disbelief, stepping back towards Paige so they can at least have this conversation too quiet for anybody to hear. “Are you dumb? You’re the one who wanted to keep this secret.”

“Because I didn’t want my teammates thinking I was distracted!”

“Our teammates, Paige.” Azzi gives her another little shove for good measure, and then she steps away again. “You’re acting stupid. Go chill out and come back when you wanna be normal.”

“Fine. I will.” With that, she turns on her heel and disappears into the crowd. Azzi rolls her eyes at her hot-headedness. They’re both too stubborn for their own good, but Paige is ten times worse when she’s drunk and Azzi has always been more logical. Little, senseless arguments like this never happened when they were dating—or even when they were broken up—but now that they’re at this weird in-between, they’re becoming more frequent.

Hence why they prefer to kiss instead of talk.

Azzi plops down beside Amari, grateful when nobody questions her, and feels a little better when she thinks about how good the make-up sex will be later.

—————————————

There will be no make-up sex tonight. Or ever, Azzi thinks bitterly, glaring daggers at the girl Paige is currently feeling up.

Okay, feeling up might be an overstatement. She has a hand on her arm. But Azzi knows better than anyone that for Paige, hand-on-arm action might as well be foreplay. And the girl seems to sense it, too, if her batting eyelashes and twinkling smile have anything to show for it.

“She’s just doing it to make you jealous.” Once again, it’s Caroline, sidling up next to Azzi to study the tall blonde across the bar.

“I have no reason to be jealous,” Azzi all but spits out, and Caroline smirks.

“Pretend all you want, Az. But it’s impossible to not see what’s going on with you and her.”

“There’s nothing.” Paige’s fingers trail down the length of the girl’s arm and it’s almost like Azzi can feel it, too.

“Are you guys exclusive?”

“No,” Azzi responds immediately, too tipsy to be thinking straight, and when Caroline smiles proudly to herself, she backtracks. “I mean, obviously not. We’re not anything.”

“Well, if you’re not exclusive, she’s not doing anything wrong.”

Azzi hates this bitter reminder and turns her anger onto her best friend. “Shut up, Carol.”

“You two should probably talk about not seeing other people,” Caroline says, as wise and perceptive as ever. (She is also significantly more sober than Azzi is.)

“She can see whoever she wants,” Azzi seethes, stirring the ice in her drink. “I don’t care.”

Paige’s eyes flit from the girl’s face to Azzi. And then, with a little smirk, she leans in to whisper something in her ear, blue eyes never leaving brown as the girl giggles and grabs onto her arm. She smiles, too, and Azzi takes some satisfaction in the fact the girl has no idea she’s not the one Paige is doing this for.

She’s always been good at putting up a show. And Azzi has always been her captive audience.

Not tonight, Azzi decides as she looks firmly away. It’s about time Paige learns to behave herself.

—————————————-

It’s been a long night of drinking and trying not to watch Paige attach herself to this random girl’s hip when Azzi is approached by none other than random girl herself.

She’s gorgeous up close, but Azzi can’t help but notice her brown curls and crescent dimples, the way they’re the exact same height. It nearly makes her laugh.

“Hey,” the girl says, dropping into the bar seat next to Azzi.

“Uh,” Azzi says, vey tipsy and very irate. “Hey.”

“What’s that? It looks so good,” the girl asks, pointing to her drink. Her voice is soft and kind, nothing malicious gleaming in her eyes. Azzi hates it.

“Just a mango daiquiri,” Azzi responds, kind of unable to be snarky about it with the wide-eyed way the girl is looking at her.

“Oh, fancy! I’m definitely gonna cop that.” She smiles conspiratorially at her. Azzi can’t help but smile back. Okay, now she just kind of hates herself. She’s never been one to be rude to girls she’s jealous of. Especially not harmless, sweet ones.

“It’s so good,” she’s saying before she can help it. “And they come in all different flavors so there’s like, endless possibilities.”

“Stop,” the girl gasps.

“I know!” and then they both giggle like the tipsy college students they are. This is possibly even better than hating her, because it’s almost like a smack in the face: look at me, Paige, being the bigger person. Making best friends with your target of the night. How’s that feel?

“Hey,” the girl giggles, leaning her elbows on the bar. “You’re Azzi, yeah? You play so good.”

“Thank you!” Azzi gushes, flashing her dimples as the girl does just the same. “What’s your name?”

“I’m Haven,” she replies. Even her name is nice. Azzi thinks about how Paige must’ve thought the same thing when they met a few hours ago, but she doesn’t like the thought, so she pushes it firmly away.

“Hey,” Haven says, sounding suddenly hesitant. “Um, I actually wanted to ask you something. About…Paige?”

Azzi’s eyes snap to where the blonde sits at the team’s booth—she always seems to know where Paige is in a room, though she never remembers tracking her movements—before she quickly looks back to Haven. “What about her?”

“Well…that,” she says.

“What?” Azzi asks, stirring her drink casually.

“The reaction you just had to me saying her name.”

Okay, so Azzi apparently does not appear as cool and collected as she thought. “Oh, that was just—I mean, she’s my best friend.”

“Yeah?” Haven asks. “Because I kinda got the impression y’all were…”

“No,” Azzi says, trying to contort her features into something like disgust. “Ew. Never.”

Haven raises her eyebrows. “Never?”

Why is everybody deciding to clock Paige and Azzi’s shit tonight? “Okay, like, maybe at one point. But it’s over.”

“Really.” She does not sound convinced at all. Glancing over at Paige, Haven leans forward, as if she’s afraid they’ll be heard. “It’s just, she keeps looking at you and you keep looking back and she was all over you earlier, so like—“

“I wouldn’t say she was all over me.”

“She totally was.” Haven’s looking at her like she’s clueless. “I just…listen, Paige invited me over tonight.” Azzi’s stomach drops. So definitely no make-up sex then. In fact, Azzi might as well pack up her vagina right now because Paige has ruined everybody else for her, too. “And I don’t wanna get in the middle of anything,” Haven continues, completely oblivious to Azzi’s internal vow of celibacy, “especially nothing messy.”

“Yeah, no, I totally get that.” Azzi sighs heavily; considering their situation is exactly what one might describe as messy, Azzi figures it’s probably the right thing to do to tell this poor girl the truth. “To be honest, we kinda are…I dunno. I mean, we fuck.”

“Okay,” Haven nods, sounding not at all surprised.

“She stays over most of the time. I stay at her’s sometimes, but she mostly stays at mine.”

“Spare toothbrushes in each other’s bathroom?”

Azzi winces. “Possibly.”

“Yeow.”

“And, like, generally, we don’t see other people. We used to, at the beginning, but not anymore. We were just talking about it today, actually. Well, not talking about it—we don’t talk about stuff. We’re not serious enough for Paige to wanna talk about stuff.” Azzi is rambling now, and Haven is hanging onto her every word, and Azzi thinks she loves making fast friends with other girls then realizes this is the exact thing that happens every time she gets drunk. Perhaps she crossed over that line awhile ago.

The two of them have their heads close together now, the rest of the bar completely shut out. “But anyway, she said something and I was like, what, you say that to all your bitches? You know, mostly joking but not.”

“Of course.”

“And she was all, no, baby, I would never ever have other bitches, don’t be mad,” Azzi says, deepening her tone in a stupid caricature of Paige’s voice.

Haven gasps. “That was today?”

“Like ten minutes before we came here.”

“And then she was all up on me tonight.” Haven glares in Paige’s direction. “Damn.”

“I know. But like, yeah, we’re not exclusive or anything so it’s fine. But it’s not, you know?”

“Oh, for sure. That’s fucked up,” Haven says haughtily. “So, wait, how long has this been going on for?”

“Uh…six months?” but no, that doesn’t feel right. “Well, I guess, like, four years? But six months.”

Haven blinks at her.

Azzi sighs. “We were super serious in high school.”

Haven nearly screams, slamming her hand on the bar. “She’s your ex?”

“Yes!” Azzi cries, and it feels so, so good for someone to understand her situation. “We were so in love and shit! And then things started feeling weird the summer before she came here—because, like, I’m a year younger than her so she was gonna be in college while I was still in high school and I—I could tell she didn’t wanna be tied down by her lame hometown girlfriend so I ended things.”

“Girl!” Haven yells.

“I had no other choiceeee,” Azzi groans. “She woulda broken up with me if I hadn’t broken up with her.”

“You’re crazy,” Haven says, shaking her head. “That girl is down bad.”

“Stop,” Azzi says, waving her off.

“She is, horrendously.” Haven gestures over to Paige. “As soon as you got to UConn she wanted to start something with you, right? And then y’all have a little tiff and she’s doing the most with another girl just to get your attention?”

“She asked you to go home with her,” Azzi points out. “That definitely wasn’t for my benefit.”

“Um, I’m sorry, have you not noticed how scary alike we look?” Haven asks, and Azzi flushes. “She was definitely gonna pretend I was you. Which I’m not down for, like, at all.”

“She’s such a dick,” Azzi says. Because she may have been in love with Paige Bueckers since high school, but yeah, she’s still kinda a dick.

“Totally,” Haven agrees. “But…

“Don’t tell me you’re about to defend her.”

“Listen!” Haven places her hands on Azzi’s shoulder. “I think her heart’s in the right place. She wants you. She’s just a little…misguided.”

Azzi shakes her head. “She was the one who said we couldn’t be serious. She said we couldn’t have ‘distractions’.”

“And you didn’t stop to think that maybe she was still insecure and hurt by the fact you broke up with her and was protecting herself from getting hurt again?”

Azzi blinks at this drunk, genius girl in front of her. “Whoa.”

“Yeah. You know what, I’m starting to think maybe you’re both a little stupid.”

Azzi shoves her. “Don’t get so cocky, you could be wrong!”

“I could,” Haven admits. “But where would that leave you? With an asshole ex-girlfriend who messes with your head for fun?”

Azzi thinks maybe, if they didn’t look so uncannily alike, she could kiss this girl. “I love you.”

“Girl, I love you more.” Haven pats her arm and leans back on her barstool. “Now take Auntie Haven’s advice and give her the silent treatment for a few days. She’ll realize her mistakes and come running back real quick.”

“What if I don’t wanna take her back?” Azzi says, already knowing it’s bullshit.

“You do. But you gotta make her work for it. And then you have to communicate with her.”

Azzi makes a face. “Didn’t I already tell you we don’t like talking?”

Haven rubs her temples. “There’s your main fucking problem, Azzi.”

It’s then that Haven’s eyes trail to something over her shoulder and before Azzi can ask there’s a large, warm, all-too-familiar ringed hand on her shoulder. “What’re you two talking about over here?”

Azzi looks first at the hand on her shoulder, then slowly up to Paige’s face. Paige raises her eyebrows, waiting for an answer, and then Azzi looks back at Haven, meeting her eyes.

And then they laugh.

“What?” Paige nearly demands.

Azzi brushes her hand off, still giggling. “Leave us alone, Paige.”

“I just didn’t know y’all knew each other,” Paige says, and Azzi delights at how confused she sounds. “Because you two seem pretty buddy-buddy over here.”

“Didn’t realize you were watching so closely,” Haven quips. Azzi giggles.

“Never said I was.” Paige moves from behind Azzi, going to stand beside them, studying them closely. “You two are drunk as hell.”

“So are you!” Haven and Azzi both say at the same time, and tears are forming at this point. Azzi holds on to Haven’s knee to keep herself from falling off her chair.

“Aight, yeah, I’m getting you an Uber,” Paige says to Haven, before touching Azzi’s arm, “And I’ma walk you home.”

“I can get my own Uber,” Haven says haughtily, but Paige already has her phone out.

Once again, Azzi bats Paige’s hand away. “I don’t wanna go home with you.”

Paige rolls her eyes, still navigating through her phone. “I figured, Az. But we live in the same building. Just lemme walk you.”

“You’re not sober enough to walk me.”

“I’ve been drinking water for the past hour, I’m pretty much good.” Paige shuts her phone off and looks at Haven. “You car’ll be here in fifteen.”

“Wish you were pretty much good a couple hours ago,” Azzi grumbles.

Paige’s expression becomes a little less nonchalant at that. “I know, mama, we can talk about it tomorrow.”

And that almost works. But then Haven sends her a warning glare and she straightens up. “No, thanks.”

Paige’s face scrunches up like it always done when she’s shocked, and Azzi hates that it’s still the cutest thing in the world. “Whatchu mean?”

“Exactly that,” Azzi says, standing from her barstool. Her butt is sore from sitting for so long. “And I’ll walk home with the rest of the team, thanks.”

Paige splutters. Haven gives her the middle finger.

—————————————

Later, when they are walking home—stumbling, more accurately—Azzi is leaning against Aubrey when she hears familiar footfalls coming up behind them and braces herself.

“Hey, Azzi,” Paige calls, catching her arm as she catches up. “Come walk with me.”

“I wanna walk with Aubrey,” Azzi says petulantly.

Aubrey looks awkwardly between the two of them.

“Bro, just—“ Paige stops, mindful of their audience. “Let’s just talk, okay?”

“No, thanks.”

“Azzi, c’mon.”

“I’m drunk and I’m cold and I’m mad at you. Leave me alone.”

Paige looks desperately to Aubrey for help. Aubrey just shrugs and says, “What’m I supposed to do? She said what she said.”

“Thank you,” Azzi huffs.

“Man, fuck this,” Paige says. Azzi feels very satisfied when Paige falls back, leaving her alone. But her arm also tingles where Paige had caught it.

Oh, yeah. This makeup sex had better be good for the trouble she’s going through.

—————————————

It isn’t until the next day that, during a car ride with Caroline, Azzi disovers it.

The two of them have always had similar music tastes, so when an unfamiliar song comes on over the speaker, she’s a little surprised. However, as she listens to the lyrics, she finds herself even more surprised at how much they resonate with her.

I could go and read your mind

Think about your dumb face all the time

Living in your glass house I’m outside

“Hey,” she says, “what song is this?”

“That’s So True,” Caroline answers, still staring ahead at the road. “By Gracie Abrams. Why?”

Looking into big blue eyes

Did it just to hurt me, make me cry

Smiling through it all, yeah, that’s my life

“Oh,” Azzi says casually, “no reason.”

——————————————

It becomes very apparent there is a reason when, over the next week, the song becomes everyone else’s problem.

So apparent, in fact, that the team actually starts to worry about her.

“What did you do to her?” Aaliyah asks as soon as Paige walks into the apartment.

“You broke her,” Amari says.

“That stupid song kept me up all night and it’s your fault,” Aubrey continues, pointing menacingly at Paige.

“I didn’t do nothing!” Paige says, backing away from her angry friends.

“You better fix it,” Amari says. “Like, now.”

“Fix what?”

Oddly, they all go quiet at this. Paige is about to ask what’s up with them when music begins blasting from somewhere in the dorm.

“That,” Aaliyah says.

Paige scrunches her nose. “Bad pop music?”

“It is not bad,” Caroline says defensively, joining them in the entryway. When she gets judgmental looks from the other girls, she sighs. “Okay, it wasn’t bad. But Azzi’s been listening to it nonstop for a week and it used to be my favorite song and now I’m sick of it.”

“We’re all sick of it,” Amari adds unhelpfully.

“I still don’t understand what this has to do with me,” Paige says, but of course she’s lying. From what she can make out the lyrics are about a break up, maybe, something to do with jealousy and anger. With the way Azzi’s been dodging her this week (calls sent straight to voicemail, texts left on read, not even a hint of eye contact when they see each other) she knows she fucked up at the party.

It’s not like them to fight—really, it’s not. They’ve gotten into more arguments this year than they have in their entire friendship. Obviously, there’s a correlation there, something major signaling that this whole friends-with-benefits thing doesn’t work for them. Or maybe it does. Maybe it’s the whole best-friends-who-dated-then-became-exes-then-friends-with-benefits thing that they can’t do.

But either way—fights? Like, actual fights that Paige can’t talk (or kiss) their way out of? Those are rare.

She didn’t think their argument at the bar was that big a deal. Didn’t even think her flirting with another girl would make Azzi mad. (She’d been hoping for jealousy because dysfunctional as they may be, the sex is really good and it’s even better when one of them is all riled up).

She has a sneaky feeling this all has to do with that girl at the bar. Haven. The cute one who looked a lot like Azzi and seemed super into Paige until she turned around and became best friends with none other than Azzi herself. She should’ve known that would happen. Azzi always makes friends when she gets drunk.

She just wishes this bout of silence (and celibacy) between them would end already.

“You can’t be serious,” Amari says.

Paige shrugs.

“We all know you two are fucking, Paige,” Caroline says quite bluntly.

And, okay, the sheer panic that Paige feels at this is maybe a little ridiculous.

She never wanted the team—anyone, really—to know she and Azzi were back together. Because, well, they weren’t, for one, and there’s no good way to tell your parents, “Hey, you know how I was super emo about how the love of my life broke up with me before college? Yeah, well, it’s been a year and I’m not totally over it but I fucked her in the bathroom at a club and we’re going steady—as in, fucking—now!”

But the main reason she didn’t want anybody to know is because she was—is—so afraid of having her heart broken again. And if she keeps this to herself, then she gets to act like she doesn’t care if history repeats itself. Gets to move on and not think about it and use other people as rebounds without anybody batting an eye.

But it’s been six months of them going from friends with benefits to best friends who also kiss and have sex to best friends who kiss and have sex exclusively with each other. She may have gotten a little too cocky, may have thought they were finding solid ground, and may have not put so much effort into hiding it.

But Azzi hasn’t spoken to her for a week and she doesn’t even remember what solid ground feels like anymore so yeah, the notion of her friends knowing about them when they may be on the brink of ending is a little scary.

“Okay,” Amari says tentatively when Paige stares blankly at them, “don’t freak. It’s not a big deal. We don’t care.”

“No, I—I know,” Paige stutters.

“Seriously, P, it’s cool,” Aubrey says, patting her shoulder. “Just, you know, go fix it.”

That song has played three consecutive times since this conversation started. They may be right. Paige might’ve broken her.

Might’ve broken them.

“And while you’re at it,” Caroline adds, giving her a little push in the direction of Azzi’s room, “make sure you guys are official so we don’t have to deal with this again.”

Paige tries to plant her feet to prevent her advance towards Azzi, but Aubrey rounds to her front and starts pulling at her arms while Amari pushes and then she’s directly in front of a door with a pink ‘welcome’ sign hanging off the front. As that song thuds accusingly through the door, Paige doesn’t feel very welcome.

“Okay, stop being a pussy,” Aaliyah pipes up from behind them, “and go in there. Please.”

“Make it stop,” Aubrey says. She almost sounds like she’s about to cry.

Paige stares at them, wondering if they’re really going to make her do this. But they all nod at her before disappearing down the hall so it’s just Paige in front of Azzi’s door and she could leave, could just go back home but she’d never hear the end of it from her teammates. (And she might end up hating herself if she does that, too.)

So, with a deep, steadying breath, Paige lifts her fist and knocks.

“Coming,” Azzi calls. Blessedly, the song turns off and there’s some rustling inside before the door creaks open.

Paige expects a lot of things when Azzi first sees her—anger, upset, a door slamming in her face.

What she doesn’t expect is the satisfied smile that flits across Azzi’s face before she carefully fixes her expression into something more somber.

“Uh, hey,” Paige says. “Can I—“

“Come in,” Azzi says gravely, opening the door all the way to let her through.

“Uh, aight.” Nervously, Paige walks past Azzi, a little afraid that is some sort of trap based off the strange way she’s acting. Once she’s inside and the door’s shut, she faces the younger girl, though doesn’t quite look her in the eye. “So, I just…you know, about the other night. At Ted’s.”

Azzi nods. “Go on.”

“Well, I know I started that lil argument and I feel bad.”

“Uh-huh.”

“I was just drunk and I wanted your attention so I acted stupid.”

Azzi crosses her arms impatiently. Paige wishes she had written this down and practiced beforehand or something.

“And with that other girl—“

“Her name’s Haven,” Azzi says sharply.

Paige blinks at her, surprised. “Yeah. Her. Well—“

“She’s actually really nice. We’ve been texting.”

Paige can’t help but scoff a little at that. “What, you gonna leave me for her or sum’?”

“We look related, so no,” Azzi says, raising an eyebrow. “And if I remember right, I thought it was you asking her to come to your place that night.”

Shit. So the two of them really did talk about everything. That’s not great for her.

“I didn’t mean it,” Paige says, which is very much true—she doesn’t know what she would’ve done if Haven had agreed to come over that night, but she certainly wouldn’t have kissed her. “I just, we were arguing and I wanted to make you jealous so we could, like, kiss and make up.”

Azzi crosses the room to sit on her bed, and Paige hovers awkwardly, wondering if she should follow. She decides on staying put. “I was jealous,” Azzi says. “But it just pissed me off.”

“I know, and it was a stupid thing to do.”

“I just—I thought we weren’t really, like, seeing other people.”

Paige freezes. This is completely outside of argument-at-Ted’s territory and it seems a little more like serious-talk-about-us time. Which Paige is just not prepared for at all. She should’ve made notecards for this.

“I mean—we aren’t—but, like…” Paige trails off, and she knows it’s bad how uncertain she sounds when hurt flashes over Azzi’s expression.

“Have you? Been seeing other people,” she asks, and Paige can tell she’s trying to sound nonchalant, putting on a brave face, but in reality she’s terrified of the answer.

Paige rushes to reassure her. “No, Az, no. Not a—seriously, not a single person. Not since that day at the club.” Not since the day Azzi came to UConn, if she’s being a little more accurate. But Azzi doesn’t need to know that.

Again, Azzi tries to act like it doesn’t affect her. But Paige knows her far too well—far too intimately—to miss the way her features relax, her shoulders lowering just a little bit. “Me neither,” she says softly.

Paige lets out a breath she hadn’t realized she’d been holding at that. “Okay.”

“So…what does that mean?” Azzi asks tentatively.

Now that Azzi seems a little less guarded, Paige takes her chance to sit beside her on the bed, though not too close. “I dunno,” she says lamely, but when she’s met with a heavily annoyed silence, she sighs and tries desperately to think something up. “I mean. We can’t really be casual and exclusive. That’s not really how that works.”

“Yeah,” Azzi says.

Paige waits for her to pick up the conversation at least a little, but she doesn’t, and Paige is forced to go on. “I don’t—I think it’s not even something I want anymore. The whole casual thing.”

It’s hard, getting the words out, like each syllable is a barrier being broken, and maybe it is. Paige looks down at her hands, fiddles with them, anything so she doesn’t have to watch Azzi’s reaction.

“Paige,” Azzi says quietly.

And when Paige catches the hesitancy in her tone—the fear—she is suddenly too desperate and maybe even too in love to keep quiet just because it’s hard. Because she can’t do this, not again. She can’t watch Azzi walk away without at least putting up a fight.

“I know what I did was wrong,” Paige blurts out before Azzi can say anything else. She looks up, stares at the wall ahead, before turning to Azzi. She tries to detect the look in her eyes and what it may mean, but can’t. “At Ted’s. And I’m sorry. I guess I just—these past six months have been so—I mean, they’ve been good, but they’ve also been super fucking confusing and kinda scary, too. It’s like I’m always on edge waiting for you to end things, so whenever we get too close to how we were—before, in high school—I back out, no matter how hard it is. No matter how good it feels to have you again.”

Azzi opens her mouth, the beginning of a word escaping, but Paige’s heart races and she stands, stopping her. “But I’m realizing that I don’t think I can do that with you. I don’t think I can be just friends with you, or friends with benefits, or even whatever the hell it is we’ve been doing. Every day since you ended things I’ve been a fucking wreck, Azzi.” And it’s true. Her freshmen year had been hard, spent sleeping with random caramel-skinned, dimpled girls to try and fill the Azzi-shaped void in her heart. And the summer after was hell, too, reconnecting with Azzi long-distance and trying to become friends again, acting like they were never anything more. And the past six months has been the worst of it all, because having Azzi but not really having her, keeping her at an arm’s length and teetering on this edge of will she do it again and when will it happen proving almost painful.

Azzi stands, too, stepping in front of her, tilting her chin just slightly up to make eye contact like she’s always had to do. “I didn’t want that, Paige,” she says, almost as if she’s pleading. “I wanted—I thought you’d have more fun if you were single. I thought you’d resent me for, like, tying you down.”

Paige looks at Azzi for a solid few seconds, trying to discern whether she’s fucking with her. And when Azzi doesn’t laugh or tell her this was all a stupid prank she turns around, pushes her hand through her hair, and then faces her again. “Are you fucking for real?”

“Yeah,” Azzi says sheepishly. “I thought—I don’t know. I was also sixteen and stupid and insecure, and I just wanted to make you happy. I didn’t think about what I wanted.” She looks down at her feet. “Didn’t realize how hard it’d be.”

“Yeah, you were stupid,” Paige snaps, and when Azzi flinches, she takes a step towards her. “You really thought that I’d—what, not want you? Want to fucking break up so I could hoe around?”

“Kind of!” Azzi says, throwing her hands in the air. “Things already felt off that summer before you left—“

“Because I didn’t want to leave you!” Paige practically shouts, and she wonders briefly why they never bothered to discuss this before. “I had no idea what I was gonna do when we were so far apart, but you know what? We could have handled it. We could’ve handled a year. I wanted to handle it, if it meant we could stay together.” She takes another step closer, so they’re face-to-face now. “I thought you were bored of me or sum’, you know? I was so fucking hurt.”

“I wasn’t trying to hurt you!” Azzi cries. “Obviously I wasn’t bored, Paige, or I wouldn’t have jumped your fucking bones the minute I got to school.”

“And obviously I didn’t wanna be single or I wouldn’t have let you!”

Silence washes over them, and Paige is sure she could hear a pin drop, almost as sure as she is that their teammates are thoroughly listening to this argument outside the door. But she doesn’t care. Not when she’s looking close-up at the girl she’s loved forever and seeing her for the first time in almost two years—inches apart without hidden hurt or secret regrets tucked between them.

They’re both breathing heavy, both affected by everything they’ve just said and everything that still needs to be said but it’s not a surprise that they hold each other’s gazes, both too stubborn to be the first to look away.

And when the eye contact becomes too much for Paige to bear, she decides she will not chicken out, will not let her trepidations hold her back this time. And she leans forward and kisses her.

They’ve kissed—a million times, probably. Maybe more. At this point, they’ve learned each other down to the last breath, the last hair on their heads. They know exactly where to put their hands, exactly how to tell what the other is feeling based off the way they move their lips, exactly what things to say in between kisses. But despite all that, this—this feels brand new. Gentle, and tentative, but excited, too, like they know it’s the mark of something different. Something better.

———————————-

A week later, when Paige appears at her doorstep with a nervous little smile and flowers to take her on their second-first date, Paige asks her about the ‘lame girly song’ she’d been playing on repeat. Azzi tells her the song is not, in fact, lame, and is actually really quite good. She doesn’t admit that she can’t listen to it anymore.

(And, because I know you’re all wondering—yes, the makeup sex was as good as Azzi’d hoped.)

[elleaitch22]

Terms of Endearment

Chapter 15: All In

Pairing: Paige Bueckers x Azzi Fudd

A/N: Our girls are back! Please leave comments, reviews, or live reactions! I really love this chapter, and I hope y’all will too!!!! xx Elle

Warnings: Mentions of emotional abuse, PTSD, effects of gaslighting

Word Count: 4.5k words

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Paige was ready, at least she hoped she was.

She had made all the preparations she could think of to make sure Azzi would enjoy their date tonight.

Since it was Friday, Soleil was with her aunts for a sleepover, and Paige had already planned an outing with her for the next day.

Paige had told Azzi that she’d be there to pick her up at 6:30, but it was only 6:23, which gave her exactly enough time to panic before picking Azzi up.

She quite literally couldn’t recall a single time where she was so anxious about a date or trying to impress someone.

She’d spent thirty minutes on Google, trying to decide which flowers to include in the bouquet. She turned the vase, making sure the bouquet was perfect, running through all the flowers once more.

She chose white peonies as the main flower because she thought roses were basic, and this specific peony signified new beginnings. Pink carnations for gratitude and admiration. Pale yellow stock for luck and joy. And lavender waxflower for patience. Some dusty miller, pitta Negra, and lemon leaf served as nice fillers. It was probably the prettiest thing Paige had ever put together.

She didn’t even know if Azzi was into flowers and their meanings, but just in case she was, Paige wanted to get it right.

It was 6:26 now.

Paige walked over to the mirror by the elevator, glancing over her appearance.  Their date required casual clothes, and she had dressed accordingly. She left her white shirt with spatters on the hem unbuttoned. The black, high neck, cropped tank showcased her abs, and she thanked God that she still had some of her summer tan. Black distressed shorts hung low on her hips. Ankle socks and crisp air forces finished the outfit. A silver cross necklace and studs were the only jewelry she wore. She decided to do minimal hair and makeup; a low bun, concealer, mascara, and chapstick.

Once 6:28 rolled around, Paige got in the elevator and rode down to the 57th floor.

She knocked on Azzi’s door firmly, happy to be holding a vase of flowers instead of fidgeting with her hands.

Shockingly enough, Azzi Fuud looked perfect when she opened the door.

She had brown sunglasses resting on top of braids feeding into a bun. She had on light makeup as well – mascara and blush. Small silver hoops hugged her ears, and a silver ‘a’ necklace sat firmly on her chest. She were a sleeveless, white shirt with two ties in the front. The shirt was cropped and showed off Azzi’s toned stomach and her

Azzi had a belly piercing.

Paige’s brain went blank.

“– you okay?” She heard a soft voice ask.

“Oh, yes.” Paige held out the flowers. “I hope you like the bouquet. They should last at least a week.”

Azzi accepted them with a smile, “I love peonies! They’re my favorite flowers; these and english roses.” She said, turning to put them down inside.

Paige was blessed with the amazing view of Azzi’s perfect ass in denim shorts. She trailed her long, strong legs down to a pair of green sneakers.

She was absolutely perfect.

“Need something?” Azzi said, noticing where Paige’s eyes had been.

Her lips lifted in a smirk, “Nah. Just admiring the scenery.”

They head to the elevator side by side, hands brushing.

“So, are you gonna tell me where we’re going?”  Azzi asks softly.

Paige sighed playfully, “My answer hasn’t changed since you asked me earlier when I picked Soleil up.”

An adorable pout crossed her face.

“Does not knowing make you anxious?” Paige asked, not even thinking about how that may come off to her after years of enduring Grant.

Azzi’s lips turned up in a gentle smile. “No, thank you for checking, though.” She paused. “I just don’t like being told no. Never have.” She giggled.

“Hm, I’ll keep that in mind. But I’m still not telling you where we’re going.” At Azzi’s huff, she added. “I will let you pick the car though.”

~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~

Azzi looked around as Paige parked the car. She’d been so distracted by the woman’s dry humor that she didn’t even pay attention to where they were going.

‘Emporium’ was printed across the front of a dark building. She looked at Paige with a brow raised.

“Can you not wait thirty more seconds.” The blonde chuckled.

Azzi huffed again, marching towards the doors.

The Emporium was taken straight from the 90s. There was a mix of pop and R&B songs from a few decades ago and an alarming amount of neon. There were tons of games, and the room was filled with laughs and shouts.

“You brought me to an arcade?” She whirled around to the blonde.

Azzi was met with a small smirk, “Yeah. You’ve had a stressful couple of weeks. You need to relax, and I’m here to help with that.”

For a second, Azzi thought of a very different way help could help her relax. “We’ll see how relaxed you are when I kick your ass.”

“Hmm. Sassy.” Paige said dryly.

Azzi’s spine straightened quickly, “Does that make you upset?”

“No,” Paige said, turning to face her. “Did you think it did?”

Shoulders relaxed, Azzi smiled. “A little. I just couldn’t see your facial expression.”

“Nah, I like competition. I like personality. Fire. You can always be as sassy as you want, Azzi. I’ll let you know if you’re pushing it.” Paige finished, turning back to the counter to pay for a game card.

“Well, that’s good. I hope you like being a loser too.”

The curly headed woman practically skipped over to the skee-ball machine, waiting for Paige to swipe the card so they could start the game.

“Not to brag or anything, but I’ve never lost at skee-ball.” Azzi gloated as she rolled the first ball, hitting 50 right away.

Paige rolled her eyes but was a little shocked when her final score was a whopping 560 points. Only one ball hit anything less than 50 points.

Two minutes later, the blonde’s score was a meager 320.

At Paige’s pout, Azzi decided to turn it into a real competition. “I saw a giant unicorn stuffie when we walked in,” She started. “Whoever wins gets to get it for Lei.”

“See, I was gonna take it easy on you, Pretty Girl, but now? You have no chance.” Paige scoffed.

The next game Azzi chose was basketball.

“Az, that’s not even fair. You know I hooped in college. I started at the basketball capital of the world.” Paige chuckled, confidence in her tone.

Azzi rolled her eyes, “There’s a lot you don’t know about me, P. I was ranked in the top 20 when I graduated high school. It’s why I ended up at UCLA.”

Paige was entranced by Azzi’s shot. It was fluid, natural, perfect. She was so hypnotized by Azzi’s shooting that she didn’t shoot a ball at her own basket the entire time.

The brunette laughed loudly in her face once the timer ran out. “You didn’t even shoot!” She giggled.

“You have the world’s most perfect shot, Azzi.” Paige said, still in shock. “I’m gonna get actually shoot this round.”

Paige won the first round of shooting, and let Azzi talk her into the best of three.

Azzi won the second round, and the third round came down to the final shot. Paige’s so clean the net didn’t move, and Azzi’s bounced circled the rim twice before rolling out.

“NO!” She screeched, covering her face in shock and disappointment.

“Yes!” Paige jumped, smile wide on her face. “We’re tied on games now. 2-2.” She gloated.

Azzi peeked out through her fingers. “You’re so pretty.” She mumbled.

The blonde’s cheeks darkened, and her cheers died down quickly. “Um, let’s find another game.”

“Wait, Paige!” She yelled, grabbing the pale hand. “I’m serious! I remember the first time I came to your place, I saw you smiling, like really smiling. And I knew I wanted one of those smiles directed towards me. Because when you smile, Paige,” Azzi beamed, “Like really smile, your whole face lights up and you just look so beautiful, and–” She paused, her own cheeks going pink.

“Hmm,” Paige started, smirk stretching across her face, “I’ve never heard you talk that much.”

Azzi looked down at her shoes, “I just – You make me comfortable. Grant didn’t like when I said too much, but you want me to speak.”

Paige smiled softly to herself. She wrapped a long arm around her waist and brought her close, planting a firm kiss on her forehead.

“I love when you say too much. Helps me know you better.” Paige said. She leaned out of their embrace. “We got time for a pool game, wanna play?”

Azzi had never been good at pool, but if she bent over enough, she’d be able to flash a little cleavage at her date, and that might distract Paige enough to steal the win.

“Yeah, but you’re gonna have to teach me,” The shorter girl tossed over her shoulder, heading to the table, hips swaying.

Emporium’s pool table sat tucked in a corner in the back across from the bar. The loud noises from the arcade machine faded a bit, the neon lights faded, low lights creating a much more intimate vibe than the rest of the arcade.

Azzi stood shifting side to side while Paige racked the balls. “So,” She started, biting her lip, “How bad am I about to embarrass myself?”

Paige straightened, looking at the girl with hooded eyes, “You don’t know how to play pool? But you agreed to do this as a tie breaker.”

“I feel like I’ll still end up winning,” Azzi giggled. Paige looked at her confused, “I’m hoping you’ll end up teaching me. And you’ll be all close, so I feel like that’s a win for me.” She said, voice lowered.

Paige smirked, grabbing a cue and chalk. “Come show me your stance. I’ll help you break the balls.”

Azzi took the cue from Paige and tried to mimic what she’d scene on tv. She was bent over dramatically, back arched, ass high. “Please don’t laugh at me.”

She didn’t laugh, but she did stare. “Say stop if you need space,” Paige walked up behind her, almost in a trance. “You trust me?” She questioned, voice low.

Azzi nodded. “Yeah”

Paige moved in slowly, chest brushing against Azzi’s back. Veiny hands covered tanned ones, adjusting her grip on the cue. Her voice dropped, making Azzi frozen in place. “Thumb right here. Keep your elbow soft.” She adjusted the girl’s grip. “Good.”

Azzi’s breath hitched at Paige’s proximity and praise. The surrounding sounds faded, only Paige’s voice and breaths were audible to the brunette. All she could feel was the steady warmth draped over her back, the hand covering hers, the grounding grip on her hip.

“Relax, baby,” Paige said, lips brushing her ear. “I got you.”

Warmth flooded her whole body. “Yeah, I know.”

“Okay,” Paige said, stepping back. “Try the shot.”

The lack of warmth at her back brought her back to the moment. She struck the cue ball and all of the balls in the triangular layout scattered. One solid and two striped balls sunk. She shot up shocked, “I did it!”

“You did,” Paige said, grinning. “You’re stripes, baby.”

Azzi beamed, standing a little taller. “Holy shit. I’m basically a pro.”

Paige laughed. “Clearly. But I might need to supervise a few more turns. Just to make sure it wasn’t a fluke.”

Azzi tilted her head, teasing. “You sure you’re not just trying to touch my hips again?”

“Busted.” Paige replied with a smirk.

Azzi laughed, the kind that lit up her whole face.

They took turns, bantering between shots. Paige let herself brush Azzi’s fingers when passing the chalk, rested a hand at the small of her back once too long. But she checked in with a look each time, a small question in her eyes. You good?

Each time, Azzi met it with a soft smile or a nod. I’m good.

“Okay, one more ball before the 8-ball. If you don’t sink this, I’m not having any more mercy on you.” Paige said, chin lifted.

Azzi quieted her mind, trying to focus on the striped green ball that stood between her and victory. It wasn’t too far from the pocket, should be easy.

She lightly tapped the cue ball. It hung on the lip of the pocket, then finally it fell. “Yes!” She exclaimed.

The solid black ball was hit in next, and then, “I won! I really beat you at pool!”

Paige laughed at the girl jumping around her. “You’re welcome for my spectacular teaching skills.” She grabbed Azzi’s hand. “Come on, let’s get that unicorn for Soleil.”

Azzi smiled, looking at the hand holding hers.

She could get used to this.

~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~

Paige parked and went to get something out of the trunk before coming around to Azzi.

“Come on, there’s like 20 food trucks we can pick from.” She said.

Azzi glanced at the blanket under Paige’s arm, “Are we having a picnic?” She grinned, excited. “I’ve always wanted to have a picnic date!”

She made note of the crepe truck and decided she should bring Soleil once they’ve practiced more French. There are two Jamaican trucks, one Haitian truck, and four Chinese trucks.

They agree on a Korean-Mexican fusion truck called Seoul Tacos.

Azzi is shocked when Paige ordered in perfect Korean.

Azzi blinked. “How the hell do you know Korean?”

Paige smirked. “I know six languages, give or take. English, Spanish, French, ASL, Mandarin, and enough Korean to flirt and order kimchi fries.”

Azzi’s brows shot up, “You are fluent in French and you’re having me teach Soleil?”

“Duh, you’re fluent too. You studied education. You understand the learning process. You’d be much better than I ever would.” Paige said, casually. “I didn’t want to get in your way. You’re the one Soleil looks up to when she’s learning.”

The brunette blushed deeply, “Thank you for saying that.” A glance at Paige showed that she was waiting for her to continue. “Grant said teaching didn’t matter. That I wasn’t smart enough for it.”

Paige’s jaw was clenched tightly. “You’re not stupid at all, Azzi Fudd.” She said, cupping her jaw gently. “I hate that he said that to you – that he said it so much you believed him.”

The two stood closely, a thumb caressing Azzi’s face softly. They stayed that way until the person called ticket number 35.

Azzi spread the blanket on the cooling grass while Paige looked through the bags of food. Both women kicked off their shoes before getting comfortable.

“Okay, we’ve got an elote mandu to share, carnitas bibimbap for you, spicy chicken al pastor tacos for me, and Korean pear agua frescas.” She passed out their food.

The first bite was exceptional. “Shit, this is amazing.” Azzi spoke around her fork.

“Right?” Paige grinned. “So, how did I not know you played basketball at UCLA?”

Paige could see it involved Grant before Azzi opened her mouth. Her spine straightened but her shoulders rounded, like she was trying to make herself small.

“My first semester was really rough, with everything going on. I lost my eligibility, so I never actually played.” She muttered. “I didn’t even tell anyone,” Azzi said quietly. “I didn’t want to talk about it. If I admitted it, it meant he’d actually taken that from me too. That I let him.”

“You didn’t let him take anything, Az. You were surviving.” Paige’s voice cracked just slightly. “I hate that you went through that alone. I wish, God, I wish I’d known you back then. I would’ve fought for you.” She paused. “But I’m here now. And he doesn’t get to take another thing from you. Not your joy, not your future. Not one more minute.”

Azzi nodded, “I just wished I never stopped playing. Basketball was my first love.”

“Well, I’m happy I know you’re a secret hooper now. We can work out together,” Paige joked. “And you can take Soleil to the gym at Aurelia. I’ve been trying to get her interested in hooping. But if she finds out you play basketball, she’ll probably be obsessed with the sport.”

Azzi’s face brightened at the mention of the girl. “She’s really great, Paige. You’ve done an amazing job with her.”

Paige blushed. “Thank you. She’s the thing I’m the most proud of.”

“You should be. Thank you for letting me in her life. Letting me know her…love her.” Azzi’s hand covered Paige’s.

The ladies sat in a comfortable silence, watching the stars twinkle in the sky.

“How did you do it?” Azzi looked over at the blonde. “You built the beautiful life for yourself, even after everything with that guy.”

Paige looked at her, at the tears welling up in brown eyes. “Azzi…”

“Like, I want to trust you. I want this, with you and Soleil. I want this so bad.” She whispered. “But I’m so scared to let myself have this. I’m scared I’ll mess it up, or I’ll let myself love you and you – I don’t think you’d do anything, but maybe you’ll get mad at me or, or tired of me. And you’ll throw me away.”

Paige wanted to say it, wanted to promise Azzi the moon, swear she’d never leave, never hurt her.

But this wasn’t about her.

So instead, she pulled her closer.

Let her fall apart quietly, without trying to fix her.

She didn’t say anything, just held her.

“My situation was different than yours. A lot different.” She started. “I never loved Manny. I knew it was going to be bad from the beginning. But you trusted him; you loved him, and he went out of his way to hurt you.”

“But he hurt you too,” Azzi interjected.

“Yeah, but I expected that from him. I knew we weren’t building anything to last. So, the hits and words didn’t hurt me.” Paige paused, cupping the back of Azzi’s head. “Grant left you with deeper wounds. Bruises fade quickly, but words can stay forever. Maybe,” She hesitated. “I’m not saying there’s anything wrong with you, but maybe talking to someone, a professional might help.”

Azzi didn’t say anything, just sat with Paige said with an arm around her shoulder.

“You think I need therapy?” She muttered, voice shaky.

“I had to talk to someone too,” Paige said after a beat. “After Manny. I thought I didn’t need it, but I wasn’t sleeping. I didn’t trust anyone but Nika. Kyrie helped.”

Azzi frowned. “So, you do. You think I need therapy?”

“I think you deserve it,” Paige said gently. “You deserve every tool that makes loving people easier.” Paige pulled away, hand gentle on Azzi’s cheek. “But no, I don’t think you need it like something’s wrong with you,” She said. “I just… I think you deserve to feel safe again. With yourself. With me.”

Her face crumpled, “I hate him. I hate that he broke me.”

“You’re not broken, Azzi. You’re strong.” Paige cut her off, bringing their foreheads together. “Do you want me to do something about it? I killed Manny, and I’ll kill Grant too. Just say the word, Az.”

Silence.

Azzi didn’t laugh. She looked up, eyes glassy.

“No. I just want to stop feeling like I deserve what he did.” A tear fell.

Paige brushed a thumb under Azzi’s eye.

“Then that’s what we’ll work on, okay? One bite of bibimbap, one basketball shootout, one bedtime story at a time.”

~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~

“So, we’ve got two options,” Paige started. “We can go to the Museum of Illusions, or we can go home.”

Azzi looked over the console. The moonlight made Paige look ethereal. Her eyes trailed her perfectly arched eyebrows. Those perfect blue eyes that she could spend hours lost in. Her high cheekbones and perfect nose. Her lips were pink, and they looked so soft, so kissable. And they were moving.

‘What?” Azzi said, not hearing anything the blonde had said to her.

“Oh, you’re sleepy? We can go home.” Paige said, starting the car.

The brunette jolted, “What, no? I don’t wanna go home yet. Did you have anything else planned?”

“I got us tickets to the Museum of Illusions, but the reservation isn’t until 9, so I was thinking we could go get ice cream while we wait.” Paige smiled as Azzi lit up at the mention of her favorite dessert.

“I think ice cream sounds great after. How far is it?” She smiled brightly, dimples on full display.

Paige put the directions in on the car display. “We’re thirty minutes from the museum, and it’s a ten minute walk to the ice cream shop. So we got time.”

“Then yes, please! I really wanna go.” Azzi bounced in her seat. “I’m having a lot of fun with you.” She said lowly.

Paige smiled at the other girl. “Perfect, let’s go!”

The car is filled with Azzi’s Taylor Swift playlist. She belted the lyrics of invisible string three times, loud and off key. Though Paige didn’t like the singer that much, she loved the joy on Azzi’s face while she sang.

They decided to park close the museum and walk to Amorino.

The gelato shop was freezing, and both women almost regretted wearing shorts despite the humid September weather.

“Paige! They have flower cones!” Azzi exclaimed. There were few things that made Azzi as excited as a frozen sweet treat.

The blonde smiled at her, hand low on her back to guide her to the line. “Your second flowers of the night.”

“Nothing will top my first ones, though.” Azzi spun, smiling at the blonde. “You know what you’re gonna get?”

“Coffee or tiramisu.” She replied after looking at the menu for a bit. “What about you, Pretty Girl?”

“I don’t know yet,” Azzi said, brows furrowed. “I’m between mint chocolate chip, dulce de leche, salted butter caramel, and hazelnut chocolate.”

Paige nodded, “Take your time. We’re not in a rush. I’ll get tiramisu. Maybe I should get some macarons for Sunshine.”

“Oh yeah, that’s smart. She’d love that.” She thought about gelato flavors a little longer. “I think I’m gonna do dulce de leche.”

The pair stepped up to order. “I’ll take a small ducle de leche flower cone, a small tiramisu flower cone, and a box of macarons. Three vanilla, hazelnut, pistachio, and raspberry please.” Azzi beamed at the young cashier.

The cashier beamed back at the women, “That’ll be $43.54.” He said, staring at the gap in the bows on her shirt.

Paige caught the direction of his gaze and wound a long arm around her toned waist. She was so distracted by the horny teenage boy that she didn’t notice Azzi paying for their dessert. “Baby,” she sucked her teeth. “You’re not supposed to pay for anything.” She complained, kissing her cheek.

“You got everything else tonight, it’s the least I could do.” Azzi smiled.

They grabbed their desserts and walked outside. “Let’s put these in the car, then we can head to the museum. We have like ten minutes before our time starts.”

“Okay,” Azzi replied, occupied with her cone. “It’s so pretty.”

“Yeah, yeah it is,” Paige muttered, looking at her date.

They walked down the sidewalk side by side, a comfortable silence on them both.

The tall blonde cleared her throat. “Azzi, um – I – I didn’t plan on doing it like this. I didn’t even plan for it to happen for a couple more weeks. Like when I was able to make a real plan, make it perfect–”

Azzi ended her rambling, touching her lower back. “What is it, Paige?” She paused. “It doesn’t need to be perfect; it just needs to come from you. Whatever it is.”

“I don’t want to rush you. I know we’re still figuring everything out. That you’re still figuring everything out. But I like you. A lot. And I really want to call you mine, Azzi.”

A beat of silence.

Big doe eyes blinked. Perfectly pouted lips part.

“Will you be my girlfriend, Azzi Fudd?”

Azzi just stared, stunned. Breathed. A soft laugh, “Jesus, Paige. I thought it was gonna be something scary!”

“This is scary. I’ve never dated anyone before.” Paige said, rolling her eyes.

The brunette moved closer to the blonde. “Yeah, but a good kind of scary.” She smiled, grabbing Paige’s hand. “Of course I want to be your girlfriend, Paige Bueckers.”

~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~

Paige Bueckers was perfect. Maybe not actually perfect, but Azzi thought the girl was pretty fucking close.

She was an amazing mother. She was probably one of the kindest people she knew. She was loyal and protective of everyone she cared about. She was smart. She was generous. She was so strong. She planned the most perfect date. And she liked Azzi. She liked Azzi enough to make Azzi her girlfriend.

The thoughts played in Azzi’s mom on a loop.

She had a girlfriend now!

The whole time they were at the museum, their hands never left each other. A hand low on a back. A hand on the back of the neck. The touch of an elbow. The linking of pinkies. The grasping of hands.

They took selfies is distorted mirrors. They laughed in the gravity tunnel. Azzi snapped photos of Paige’s real smile, the one she only had when she was with loved ones.

The flowers, the arcade, the food truck, the ice cream, the museum. Paige had planned the perfect date.

Azzi didn’t stand a chance against falling for her.

They were back now, Paige’s arms weighed down by the giant stuffed unicorn and the box of macarons.

Her free arm brushed Azzi’s as they walked slowly, shoulders brushing.

Once they reached Azzi’s door, they paused.

“I had a lot of fun tonight, Paige. The most fun I’ve had in years.” Azzi smiled warmly.

Her girlfriend mirrored her, “I’m glad you liked it so much. Next time you get to impress me.” Her smile fell into a smirk.

“Oh, I will impress you. Don’t worry about that, Blondie.” She giggled.

The blonde hesitated, “I could walk away right now. Go give Soleil her surprises. Or I could kiss you like I’ve been wanting to since you opened the door tonight.”

The smile dropped from Azzi’s face, “Please kiss me.”

She’s gentle. Her hand low on Azzi’s back softly. Like she’s holding something fragile, something precious. Her lips brushed Azzi’s like a promise. Azzi’s hand found Paige’s cheek, thumb grazing the soft skin softly.

The kiss deepened by a breath. Soft, steady, scared.

When they pulled apart, foreheads resting together for a lingering second, the silence between them felt full of things neither needed to say aloud.

“Goodnight, Paige.”

“Goodnight, Pretty Girl.”

[pbaz7]

FLIGHT 2136: PART 9

paige x azzi

word count: 7.3k

A/N: I don’t even know. I’m real iffy about this (i hate it) but a lot of people wanted it so here we are lol. This is honestly a random ass chapter and it’s a little all over the place. There’s at least a common theme throughout the chapter which is good I guess! Let me know what you think :)

—————————————————————————

Paige has been chronically offline since the accident. Of course she still scrolls on her accounts but her social media presence was almost nonexistent—just a collection of sponsored ads and the occasional basketball dump that, knowingly to fans, was usually Azzi’s doing these days. If it weren’t for her teammates tagging her in posts, some people joked they’d forget she even had social media.

Because Paige was so inactive online, fans paid extra attention to her whenever she did show up. Every glimpse of her—whether it was a blurry background appearance in someone’s TikTok or a split-second cameo in an Instagram story—became something to dissect. It wasn’t just about what she was doing, but who she was always with.

Azzi wasn’t much better when it came to social media. She posted more than Paige, but that wasn’t saying much. Her feed was mostly basketball, occasional glimpses into her workouts, and sometimes a rare photo dump. But what fans noticed most was that, when she did post anything remotely fun or glimpses of her life, Paige was often in the videos.

It started subtly—Azzi posting TikTok trends with the team, Paige reluctantly included but always standing closest to Azzi. Then, she’d randomly post duets of them. Ones where Paige didn’t even try to hide her smile when Azzi pulled her into frame, or where she’d roll her eyes but still play along, because it was Azzi. Fans ate it up, stitching their videos with captions like Azzi is the only one who can make Paige do anything.

Then there were the off-the-court moments. Paige and Azzi getting caught whispering on the bench regardless of who was sitting in between them. The way Azzi’s hand would linger on Paige’s arm after huddles, or how Paige always seemed to turn to Azzi first when she was talking.

None of it was concrete. But to fans who had been paying attention, it was enough to start putting the pieces together.

The suspicion grew more on a random night after a game. KK, Aubrey, and Ice were piled in one of the team suites, Ice’s phone was propped up on live. They weren’t talking about anything in specific—just answering questions, talking about the game, and laughing about something they were trying to explain they saw from the bench.

In the background, Paige was in her own world, sitting on the couch, scrolling through her phone like she didn’t even know the live was happening. Which wasn’t unusual. Paige was rarely the one front and center in these kinds of things, and the fans knew it.

But that didn’t stop them from trying.

The comments flooding in.

Pls get Paige in the camera!

Can Paige come say hi???

Ice glanced over her shoulder. “Yo, they’re asking for you,” she told Paige, shifting the camera slightly to show the fans her reaction.

Paige didn’t even look up from her phone. She just shook her head, laughing. “Nah, I’m good.”

The comments started flying in:

SHE LAUGHED OMG

She always does this 😭

Why is Paige allergic to cameras but will be in every single Azzi TikTok?

KK snickered, reading the comments in her head but not saying anything out loud. She, Ice, and Aubrey went back to talking about what happened on the bench during the game, reenacting the moment that had them in tears. The chat kept moving at full speed, fans still begging for Paige to come into frame, but the three ignored it, too caught up in their conversation.

After about 15 minutes the door to the suite opened, and Azzi walked in with Jana.

When they stepped in, Ice perked up. “Look who it is!” she said, grinning.

“Come say hi to the live real quick,” KK said, motioning for them to get in frame.

Jana, always down, strolled right over and leaned into the camera. “What are y’all doing?” she said, reading some of the comments as they flooded in.

Azzi, on the other hand, didn’t fully step in. She just popped her head into frame, flashing a quick smile. “Hey, guys,” she said casually before popping back out.

With the addition of Jana, the energy in the room picked up again. Ice, KK, and Aubrey focused on interacting with fans. The chat was flying, a mix of people laughing along and still—relentlessly—begging for Paige to get in the camera.

KK was the first to notice. She shook her head and nudged Aubrey, who glanced at what KK was pointing at and laughing. Jana and Ice caught on next, and within a few seconds, the four of them silently reached an agreement.

They all turned toward Paige simultaneously, eyes wide, lips jutted out in exaggerated pouts.

Paige, still lounging on the couch, didn’t even have to look up to know something was off. They had gotten way too quiet. With a small sigh, she lifted her head—only to be met with four identical, pleading expressions staring directly at her.

She blinked. “That looks like a scene from a horror movie.”

KK snorted, but no one broke character.

Paige let out a long sigh before pushing herself off the couch. “Alright, alright, chill,” she mumbled, as she walked toward them.

The live chat exploded:

NO WAY SHE ACTUALLY GOT UP THE POWER THEY HAVE

We finally won 😭

She stepped into the frame and forced a tight smile. “Hello,” she said simply.

She looks like she’s being held hostage 💀

Someone check if she blinked twice

Paige glanced down at the screen, reading through a few of them which were definitely inappropriate and shook her head. “Y’all are crazy,” she mumbled.

Then, her attention shifted slightly—just past the camera.

Her lips curled into a small grin, subtle at first, but it grew when her ears tinged a faint shade of red. “Why are you looking at me like that?” she asked. Her voice was softer, more familiar, like she had completely forgotten they were on live.

The chat instantly reacted.

WHO IS SHE TALKING TO??

Wait, what’s happening?

Y’all saw that shift in energy?? HELLO???

Just then, another voice mumbled something from behind the camera. "You look cute when you’re all shy like that."

Paige’s smile deepened as she shook her head, a small huff escaping her lips. “Did I say I was shy?” she shot back, raising an eyebrow.

WHO JUST SAID THAT??

Was that Azzi???

NAH WHOEVER THAT IS HAS HER FLUSTERED

Paige is actually blushing. I’m sick, it's not me.

Azzi’s voice came again, a little clearer this time, but still low enough that it wasn’t obvious who was speaking. "You don’t have to say it. I can see it."

Paige bit her lip, eyes flickering downward for a second before shaking her head again. “Mhm,” she hummed, her amusement clear. “That’s crazy.”

Now the fans were in full meltdown mode, scrambling to piece it together.

HELLO???

WHAT IS HAPPENING.

WHO IS SHE TALKING TO??

KK glanced down at the comments, but she hadn’t been following the chaos leading up to them. All she saw was "Who’s behind the camera?"

“Oh,” she said, reaching for the phone. “It’s just Azzi Fudd Fudd.”

She turned the camera toward Azzi, who barely had time to blink before being on the live. Azzi gave a small smile, waving before KK propped the phone back in its original spot.

OH. MY. GOD.

IT WAS AZZI LMAOOO

THE WAY SHE WAS JUST STANDING THERE?? HELLO??

Paige, babe, be so real with us right now. Like be fr.

Paige, for her part, had already retreated back to the couch, stretching out with an arm over the backrest.

Eventually, Azzi wandered over, standing in front of Paige, who tilted her head up to look at her. The fans couldn’t hear what they were saying, but it didn’t matter because Paige had that goofy grin on her face—the one she only ever gave Azzi.

Paige picked up her phone, holding it out in front of her as she showed something to Azzi. Azzi took it, leaning down just a little closer, her eyebrows furrowing as she examined the screen. The fans could see her jaw drop in mock disbelief.

“Absolutely not,” Azzi said, shaking her head with a playful, incredulous tone.

Paige looked shocked. “Wait, what?” she asked, but before Azzi responded, she was turning to walk off frame, clearly trying to hide a grin.

Paige jumped up from the couch to follow her. The camera caught her moving quickly, her hand still holding her phone as she trailed behind Azzi, just as the two disappeared off-camera.

A moment later, a playful squeal is heard, followed by Azzi’s laughter. “Paige, stop!” she yells through her laugh.

There’s a bit of shuffling—movement that suggests a playful struggle—before Paige’s voice comes through. “You act like you don’t like it.”

After that there was a soft thud, like someone bumping into furniture, then the distant click of a door shutting.

KK glances toward the door before turning back to the screen, eyebrows raised.

As time passed and Paige and Azzi still hadn’t returned, the live became chaotic, with Ice and KK taking over, entertaining fans the best way they knew how—by arguing.

“Bro, you literally just said the opposite like five minutes ago,” Ice argued, pointing at KK.

“Girl boo. No, I didn’t,” KK shot back.

“Oh my God bro yes you did,” Ice insisted, shaking her head. “Somebody roll the tape.”

Then, someone finally asked:

Where did Paige and Azzi go???

KK glanced at the chat. “Prolly with they boyfriends.”

Ice turned her head, eyes widening before she let out a snicker, barely holding back her laugh.

GIRL BE SO FR RIGHT NOW.

WITH WHO???? NAME NAMES.

ICE LAUGHING CAUSE SHE KNOWS.

Paige and Azzi somewhere laughing at us rn.

KK YOU’RE NOT FUNNY (yes you are but still).

After that live, it seemed like the fans were watching their every move. It wasn’t like Paige and Azzi were hiding anything—it was more that they weren’t about to make any official announcements, nor were they ever planning on doing anything overt in front of the cameras.

Still, the speculation never stopped. Fans were divided—some adamantly claimed the two of them weren’t even gay, others argued they were just best friends, while a small group swore up and down that something was definitely happening between them. Despite all the chatter, Paige and Azzi never commented on it. And that, in itself, said enough.

There were no denials, no confirmations, just the two of them continuing on with their lives, the bond between them only becoming more obvious with time. It was clear to anyone who paid close enough attention that Paige and Azzi were something more than just teammates, more than just friends. But until they decided otherwise, everyone would have to keep guessing.

…

The podcast started, and the two of them were settled in front of the mics, the cameras already rolling. Paige looked a little stiff at first, clearly still not quite used to the whole “podcast” thing, while Azzi was a little more relaxed.

The Overtime WBB manager gave them a thumbs up, signaling for them to just start talking, telling them they’d chime in if they needed anything..

Azzi leaned into the mic first. "Hi, I’m Azzi Fudd."

Paige raised a hand, half-waving at the camera. "Paige Bueckers."

Azzi flashed a grin. "Um so, we’re partnering with Overtime WBB for a few podcast episodes, and honestly, it’s just gonna be a yap session. Nothing too serious. Just us talking and they’re going to clip whichever parts they like."

Paige chuckled at that. "Yap session? That’s one way to put it."

Azzi turned to her with her grin still in place. "Basically what it is. And yes, you have to participate."

Paige huffed as she leaned back in her chair. "I don’t know why I got picked for this.”

"You know exactly why you got picked for this."

Paige just shakes her head, picking up some of the cards they had in front of her, flipping through them absentmindedly. She wasn’t quite sure where to start.

Azzi raised an eyebrow, glancing at the cards in Paige’s hands. "So, how do you wanna do this?"

Paige looked up, smiling softly. "You can start."

Azzi leaned forward, giving Paige a look. "Just so you know I’m not running this whole thing. I’ll let you sit there being mysterious for a little bit though."

Paige laughed. "I’m not tryna be mysterious. I’m just… tryna figure out how to talk into a mic without sounding awkward."

Azzi laughed softly. "Just act like we're on the phone or FaceTime or something."

Paige gave her a look—one silently saying, you definitely don’t want us doing that.

Azzi caught the look and rolled her eyes slightly, laughing again. "Okay, maybe let’s not do that."

Paige nodded with a grin on her face. "Exactly."

Azzi shook her head, picking up the cards in front of her. She scanned through a few trying to find one that she knew would relax Paige a little bit. After a second she turned back to Paige with a grin. “Who's the best shooter on the team?"

Paige snorted. "Me."

Azzi raised an eyebrow "So, we're starting off the first episode with lying, huh?"

"Azzi, I’m a better shooter than you."

"Really? Do we wanna tell everybody what happened yesterday after practice?"

Paige sat up in her chair as she squinted her eyes at Azzi. "You mean when you cheated and threw your ball in the air on my last shot?"

Azzi grinned. "You still missed. Meaning you lost."

Paige shook her head. "You cheated.

Azzi’s grin only grew as she shrugged nonchalantly. "You're just a sore loser."

Paige shot her a glare. "I’m a sore loser? You still can't admit I beat you in a one-on-one."

"Because you didn’t win."

Paige threw her hands up. "Bro, I was up 18-17!"

Azzi’s grin only grew when she saw Paige getting riled up. "Exactly. It was win by two. So, no, you didn’t win."

Paige let out an exaggerated sigh, shaking her head. "Whatever."

Azzi laughed, leaning back in her chair. "I’ll let you be delusional today but we both know what's good."

Paige smirked a little at this but didn't say anything back. Just raised her eyebrows at Azzi before she looked down at her cards. After a moment, she picked one out and glanced up at Azzi.

"Would you rather be stuck in a room with me or Coach for 24 hours?"

Azzi snorted, her face lighting up with amusement. She pretended to think for a moment, tapping her chin dramatically before glancing at Paige with a grin. "I don’t know man...that’s a tough one...you’d get a little annoying after like hour ten."

Paige dropped her jaw in disbelief, looking at Azzi like she’d just been betrayed. "Wowww."

Azzi's eyes sparkled as she looked back at Paige. "Still…I’d rather be stuck in a room with you, Paige."

The way she said it and the way she looked at Paige as she tilted her head slightly, made the words hang in the air for a moment. There was a beat of silence, the slight tension between them clear to everyone in the room. Paige held Azzi’s gaze, and for just a second, neither of them said anything—too caught up in the weight of the moment.

Paige’s smile faded slightly, her heartbeat a little louder in her ears. Azzi blinked, breaking the spell, and leaned back casually in her chair, her grin returning like nothing had happened.

Azzi flipped to the next card, reading it over before glancing at Paige with a curious expression. “Who's the hardest player to guard in college basketball?”

Paige barely hesitated before answering, her voice smooth in the mic. “You.”

Azzi blinked, caught off guard for a split second before a slow smirk spread across her face. “Oh?” she leaned forward, resting her elbows on the table. “Go on.”

Paige rolled her eyes at Azzi’s reaction but continued. “You’re shifty, your release time is basically nonexistent, you can get to the rim, and you never stop moving. It’s annoying.”

Azzi grinned, clearly pleased. “Annoying, huh?”

Paige nodded. “Very.”

“So what I’m hearing is, I give you problems.”

Paige scoffed, shaking her head. “Alright I never said allat.”

Azzi turned to the camera, her smile still present. “You hear that, everybody? Paige Bueckers just admitted that I’m the toughest player she’s had to guard. Basically said she can’t guard me.”

Paige groaned, rubbing her temples. “See, this is why I don’t say nice things. Your head gets bigger than it already is.”

Azzi laughed, clearly enjoying every second of Paige’s frustration, before turning back to the camera. "I swear she’s a lot nicer to me when she isn’t in front of a camera."

Paige scoffed, tilting her head slightly. "That’s funny, ’cause I was just thinking the same thing about you."

Azzi smirked. "Oh yeah?"

Paige nodded, her eyes locked on Azzi. "Mhm. You act all innocent in front of people, but when it’s just us? Whole different person."

Azzi raised an eyebrow. "What kinda different we talkin'?"

Paige leaned forward, a smile forming on her face. "The kinda different when you’re all over me."

Azzi laughed, shaking her head. "You’re wild for saying that on camera."

Paige shrugged, her smile growing. "What? It’s not like I’m lying."

Azzi tilted her head, pretending to consider if she was going to play into this with Paige. "You’re the one who gets all soft when we’re alone. Acting like you don’t melt the second I touch you."

Paige let out a soft laugh. "I don’t melt."

Azzi smirked. "You do."

Paige and Azzi exchanged a look before breaking into quiet laughter, clearly amused by how quickly their conversation had derailed.

"Now look who's flirting on camera," Paige teased.

Azzi shook her head, feigning innocence. "They can cut it out."

Both of them instinctively glanced to the side where the Overtime WBB crew stood, watching. One of the staff members, who had been jotting down notes, simply nodded. "Say no more," she mumbled, scribbling something down—probably making a note to edit out that part.

The staff member finished jotting down notes and looked up at them. "Alright, we’re going to do a speed round of questions to see how well you two know each other which should give us enough to wrap it up for today."

Paige and Azzi both nodded, settling in. Paige glanced at the paper, huffing out a laugh when she saw the question. "What’s my go-to order?"

Azzi snorted. "Chicken tenders and fries."

Paige grinned, satisfied with the answer, but Azzi wasn’t done as she adds, "She eats like a toddler."

Paige gasped. "No, I don’t! They’ve just never failed me. Gotta stick with ole-reliable when I go to new places."

Azzi shook her head, laughing, before reading the next question. "What’s my pregame ritual?"

"You always have to poop right before the game."

"This is true."

Paige continued easily, describing Azzi’s pregame routine as if she had been Azzi’s teammate for years. "But other than that, we both listen to the playlist I made, you tie your shoes a certain way, right first then left, and then you stretch longer than everybody else so you can pretend like—"

Azzi cut her off, eyes widening. "Alright, alright, let’s not spill all my secrets!"

Paige chuckled saying, “What you got opps?”

Azzi mumbles out, “Probably.”

Paige just laughed, shaking her head. She glanced down at her paper again. "What’s one of my pet peeves?"

Azzi didn’t hesitate. "When people chew too loud."

Paige pointed at her. "Facts."

Azzi looked slightly toward the camera before turning back to Paige. "Any time somebody chews loudly, she physically looks like she’s in pain. She’s too nice to say anything, though."

Paige rolled her eyes but didn’t deny it. Instead, she moved on. "Alright, what’s something I always say on the court?"

Azzi laughed instantly. "‘That’s off’—you used to only do it when you shot and knew it was about to miss but you’ve started doing it when I shoot now too."

Paige laughed. "Cause you gotta rebound more so I’m tryna help you out."

"Yeah whatever."

Paige gestured for Azzi to go next.

Azzi glanced down at the paper in front of her, skimming a few of them before asking, "What’s my guilty pleasure TV show?"

Paige leaned back in her chair confidently. "Any Bachelor or Love Island spinoff. You swear you don’t care, but then you get way too invested every time."

Azzi playfully rolled her eyes but grinned. "Okay, fair."

Paige wasn’t done. "Then you force me to watch it with you every night and start asking questions like, ‘Why did he pick her over the other girl?’"

Azzi laughed, shaking her head. "Alright you’re just adding all the extra details to these questions. "

Paige gave her Azzi smile and shrugged. "That’s the game, right?"

Azzi exhaled, looking down to hide her blush before picking her next question. "What’s something random I love?"

Paige didn’t even blink. "The smell of fresh laundry. You always say it’s one of the best smells in the world."

Azzi raised an impressed eyebrow. "I’m surprised you got that one so quick."

Paige shrugged like it was obvious. "That’s because every time you do laundry, you take a deep breath and say, ‘That’s elite’ before you make me fold em."

Azzi covered her face laughing. "Okay, stop exposing me!"

Paige just grinned before asking the next question. "What’s something that instantly annoys me?"

Azzi hummed. "When people take too long to tell a story."

Paige pointed at her again. "Oh my god bro! If you have a five-minute story, please don’t take twenty minutes to tell it."

Azzi shook her head, smiling. "She gets so impatient when people don’t get to the point. I can literally see it on her face. Then she starts fidgeting around like a child."

Paige let out a dramatic sigh. "Because why are you dragging it? Just get to the point!"

Azzi laughed, nodding before glancing at her next question. "What’s one of my biggest fears?"

Paige’s smirk faded slightly as she answered the question softly. "Not reaching your full potential."

Azzi blinked, the playful air between them shifting just for a moment. Paige held her gaze, the answer coming too naturally—reflecting the long conversations and late nights the two of them shared talking about things like that.

Azzi nodded slowly. "Yeah," she said softly before clearing her throat and forcing a smirk. "That and spiders."

Paige let the moment pass and grinned. "Yeah, those too. You basically crawled up my back when there was a spider in my bathroom once"

Azzi laughed, shaking her head. "Alright, next question."

Paige smirked. It was clear she was enjoying herself. "What’s something I do when I’m overthinking?"

Azzi exhaled, already knowing the answer. "You play with your ring on your finger and if you’re trying to not be too obvious because I’m around you bite the inside of your cheek."

Paige stared at her for a moment before grinning because of course Azzi had picked up on the second one "Okay, stalker."

"I just pay attention to you."

Paige didn’t say anything for a second, just held her gaze with that small smirk of hers.

After a beat of silence—just the two of them smiling at each other—the staff member cleared her throat. "Alright guys thank you. I think that’s good for today."

Azzi turned toward them, flashing a polite smile. "Sounds good, thank you."

Paige, however, was still looking at her, that smirk lingering like she knew something Azzi didn’t.

Azzi stood up, stretching her arms above her head before mumbling under her breath, "Stop staring at me creep."

Paige leaned back in her chair, crossing her arms—eyes never leaving Azzi. "Not my fault you’re in my line of sight."

Azzi rolled her eyes but glanced over her shoulder, seeing which staff members were still lingering around. After a second, she seemed satisfied with what she saw and then turned her attention back to Paige.

She moved closer, standing between Paige’s legs, her presence drawing Paige's gaze upward. The smirk on Paige’s face never faltered.

Azzi tilted her head slightly, a glint in her eyes as she reached out to take Paige’s hand, fingers casually playing with hers. "What?" she asked.

Paige tugged gently at Azzi’s hand, pulling her down into her lap. "I like your hair like that," she said softly, her fingers playing with the ends of Azzi's curls as she settled her more comfortably.

Paige glanced up at Azzi, smiling up at her softly. "This okay pretty?"

Azzi looked around again, checking the room before her gaze returned to Paige. She nodded, her voice quiet. "Yeah," she replied, settling into Paige's lap.

As soon as she got confirmation Paige pulled Azzi into a kiss by her jaw. Azzi’s hand instinctively found its way to Paige's cheek, her fingers tracing her face as she kissed back, both of them losing themselves in the moment for a while.

When they broke apart, Azzi whispered softly, her breath still warm against Paige’s lips, "You did well. I’m proud of you baby."

Paige chuckled, her smirk returning as she leaned back slightly. "Thank you."

Azzi raised an eyebrow at Paige’s demeanor, her tone teasing as she asked, "Did you like it?"

Paige, still with that same smirk, shook her head playfully. "Nope."

Azzi laughed, her fingers gently running through Paige's hair as she leaned in again, clearly enjoying the playful tension between them. "You're cute," she mumbled affectionately, her lips brushing Paige's temple.

Azzi’s fingers gently continued to play with Paige’s hair, a soft rhythm as they both relaxed into the moment. Paige let her head fall back against the chair completely, closing her eyes, letting the peace of the moment wash over her. The warmth of Azzi’s presence beside her always felt grounding.

Azzi, always attuned to Paige’s needs, let her take the brief moment of quiet. She shifted slightly, resting her head against Paige's shoulder, her hand still lightly grazing Paige’s hair as she hummed softly when she smelt Paige’s cologne, content to simply be there.

But the stillness didn’t last for long. A soft voice broke the moment. "Hey, sorry to bother you guys."

Azzi blinked, her eyes opening to see a staff member standing nearby. She straightened up, offering a polite smile, though there was still a relaxed air about her. "No problem," Azzi said.

The staff member looked at both of them. "Just wanted to check in to see if there's anything else from the podcast you want to be taken out, besides that one portion we already talked about?"

Paige opened her eyes, glancing over at Azzi showing she fully expected her to answer it for them.

"I think we're good," Azzi said, giving Paige a quick look to silently confirm. "Just that one part...everything else should be fine."

Paige simply nodded in agreement before closing her eyes again.

The staff member made a quick note on her clipboard. "Alright, cool. Just wanted to check in before we wrap up. You can just message us if anything else comes up."

As the staff member walked off, Azzi shifted back into a more relaxed position, her fingers resuming their movements through Paige’s hair. She mumbled, "Kinda crazy how we spent our off day working."

Paige mumbled in response—her eyes still shut. "Tell me about it."

Azzi huffed out a soft laugh, amused by Paige’s tired tone. She leaned in and kissed Paige’s neck gently, the brief contact making Paige grin.

Pulling away just enough, Azzi sat up, looking down at Paige with a small smile. "Let’s get you back to the room before you pass out sleepyhead," she said softly as she helped Paige sit up.

Paige stretched slowly, a contented sigh escaping her lips as she finally met Azzi’s eyes, still smiling. "I’m not sleepy… just...happy I don’t have to talk."

Azzi grinned, raising an eyebrow. "Whatever you say," she replied. Her eyes softened when she noticed the way Paige’s eyes were starting to droop. "You’re gonna pass out the second we get back to the room, aren’t you?"

Paige didn’t answer right away, but the lazy smile on her face and the way she leaned slightly on Azzi as they began to walk was enough of an answer. Azzi shook her head in amusement, offering her a gentle nudge as she led the way toward the door. "I knew it," she mumbled with a grin.

Once small clips of the podcast were released, the attention on Paige and Azzi only grew. The fans were watching more closely if possible, dissecting every interaction, every glance, every touch.

The two of them didn’t mind. Paige who was still reacclimating to the overwhelming attention, was more reserved around fans in general. But one thing she never did was change how she acted with Azzi. Whether cameras were on them or not, Azzi remained within reach—adjusting Paige’s hoodie strings, fixing her chain, brushing something off her sleeve. Small gestures that didn’t go unnoticed because there was no one else on the team doing them.

It was ironic, really. Fans remembered Paige playfully yelling at Ice during a livestream, claiming she hated being touched after Ice bear hugged her. Yet, with Azzi, she never seemed to mind.

Some of the more in-tune fans noticed subtle shifts in their demeanor when they were in public versus when they were on lives or behind the scenes. Paige was usually the protective one—shooting glares at the team when they bothered Azzi, draping an arm around her when she was pouring about something. But when they were at games or events, surrounded by fans, the roles seemed to reverse. Azzi subtly became the protective one.

She was the one gently guiding Paige away from crowded situations, standing just slightly in front of her when fans ran over to them too quickly, placing a hand on her lower back when the attention became too much. People other than just fans were starting to notice.

"Have y’all realized that Paige acts all big and bad with the team but the second they’re in public, Azzi’s the one protecting her???"

"No, let's talk about it bc Azzi is always making sure Paige is comfortable in crowded spaces and I think I’m gonna cry."

…

The event was supposed to be simple—meet fans, take pictures, sign a few autographs. And if this had been two years ago, it probably would have been much calmer. But things had changed.

With the rise in popularity, the number of fans crowding the venue had grown, completely filling the space with excited chatter and eager energy. People called out players' names, some holding jerseys and posters, others just wanting a quick interaction. Paige, despite being a transfer, had been welcomed with open arms. And if there was any doubt before the event, it was clear now—these fans completely adored her.

Azzi was caught up in conversation, taking pictures, signing things, flashing smiles when she needed to, but every so often, her eyes drifted toward Paige.

At first, it was just out of habit—glancing over to check in, to get a quick glimpse of her girlfriend.

But then, the crowd around Paige continued to grow.

Azzi’s stomach tensed as she watched more people press in, everyone trying to get a moment of her attention. At first, Paige didn’t seem to mind. She was still smiling, still quietly answering questions.

But Azzi knew better.

She remembered one night, months ago, when Paige had admitted, almost offhandedly, “Since the accident I get really claustrophobic sometimes. Not all the time, but when too many people are around me, and I can’t move the way I want or go where I want, it just…gets to me I guess.”

Azzi hadn’t forgotten.

Which was why she kept glancing over now, watching the way Paige’s shoulders stiffened just slightly, the way her smile didn’t quite reach her eyes anymore. The way she was playing with the ring on her finger was always a clear sign of discomfort.

Azzi didn’t hesitate to make her way towards her after that. She didn’t rush, didn’t make it obvious—just started subtly making her way toward the crowd, offering a few more smiles, taking a couple more pictures along the way.

Azzi was nearly there when she saw Paige tensing as a fan wrapped an arm around her waist for a picture. It might have looked normal to anyone else, just a casual pose for the picture but the fan's arm was pressed securely around Paige’s torso, right where her scar was.

Paige didn’t say anything. She just offered a tight smile, her fingers still idly twisting the ring on her finger relentlessly.

Sliding smoothly into the group, Azzi greeted the fans with her usual warmth, her voice light. “Hey guys, how’s it going?”

The distraction was enough. The fan instinctively loosened her hold as she turned toward her, and in that split second, Azzi slid in. “Mind if I hop in for one?” she asked, flashing her grin. Before the fan could fully process it, Azzi gently moved their arm away from Paige, positioning herself in the middle instead. The way she did it was subtle—done so effortlessly that no one would think twice about it.

The picture was taken, and Azzi smiled at the fan before signing something for her.

After that she turned toward the group smiling as she said, “Sorry, guys, I need to steal her for a second,” already reaching for Paige’s hand to tug her away from the group.

Azzi guided Paige toward the exit, her hand resting lightly on Paige’s back as they weaved through the maze of people. As they neared the door, Azzi caught CD’s questioning look from nearby. With a simple glance, CD silently asked where they were going.

Azzi mouthed, Just taking a quick break.

CD gave a small nod of approval, trusting them both, before turning back to the chaos of the event.

Azzi led Paige toward the team's coach bus, still parked out front. The cool air was a welcome contrast to the heat of the packed venue, and the moment they stepped onto the empty bus, Paige exhaled deeply. They slid into a random seat, and as soon as she was sitting, Paige dragged her hands down her face, finally letting herself breathe.

Azzi didn’t say anything at first. She knew Paige needed a moment to gather herself. Instead, she just sat beside her, letting the quietness settle between them.

But when she noticed Paige starting to zone out, her eyes becoming unfocused, her fingers idly twisting the ring on her hand again, Azzi reached over and gently took her hand.

“What’s going on in that pretty head?” she asked her softly.

Paige let out a quiet breath, giving Azzi a small, appreciative smile before shaking her head. Her voice was barely above a whisper when she admitted, “I don’t know if I can do this, Az.”

Azzi’s brows knitted together as she turned toward Paige. “What do you mean?”

Paige let out a slow exhale, her fingers still playing with the ring on her finger. "I don’t know how to do this whole public figure thing anymore," she admitted, her voice quiet. "Before the accident, it was easier. Even though it was hectic, I could handle it—I loved it. But now… everything’s just harder. Social media, interactions, all of it."

Azzi frowned slightly, wanting to ease her worries. "You don’t need to be a public figure to be a basketball player P."

Paige simply gave her a look—one that silently told Azzi they both knew that wasn’t true.

Paige took a deep breath before continuing, her tone filled with frustration. "How am I supposed to be a face of a league team when I can’t even handle a crowd at a damn bowling alley?"

Azzi sighed softly before adjusting, hooking her arm through Paige’s and leaning her head against her shoulder. She reached down, replacing Paige’s hand with her own as she began absentmindedly playing with the ring on Paige’s finger, both of them staring ahead in silence for a moment.

Then, after gathering her thoughts, Azzi finally spoke. "You’re going to be perfectly fine, baby."

She paused, knowing she needed to explain why in a way that made sense to Paige. After a brief moment, she continued, her head still resting against Paige’s shoulder. "You’re so easy for people to love, to root for, to gravitate to."

Azzi lifted her head slightly, glancing at Paige before leaning down and continuing. "The moment you announced you were transferring to UConn, your name was everywhere. Every sports outlet, every social media page—everyone was talking about the return of Paige Bueckers." She paused, her fingers still gently twisting the ring. "You didn’t even have a social media presence and brands still threw the craziest deals at you."

Paige listened quietly, her chest rising and falling steadily as she took in Azzi’s words.

"You went from not being mentioned on draft boards to jumping into the first round after what…four games?" Azzi tilted her head slightly before laughing at herself. "I started rambling and kinda lost my train of thought."

Paige chuckled softly, the sound warm as she kissed Azzi’s head before leaning her own against Azzi’s.

Azzi smiled before letting out a quiet breath. "I guess my point was, I’m saying all of this to remind you that despite everything you went through, despite how much it still weighs on you. How much you still want to work on…you’re a light for everyone else. You’re a genuine person, you have the sweetest soul of anyone I’ve ever met. You’re talented, honest, and just…” Azzi pauses to gather her thoughts, silently thanking the universe for giving her someone like Paige. She continues saying, “You’re just an amazing human baby. And people don’t see that a lot in public figures these days."

Paige closed her eyes for a moment, letting the words settle.

"You could never post on social media again, you could hire a social media manager to handle everything, and people would still love you," Azzi continued. "They love you even when you don’t interact with them. Just being in the same room as you is enough for some of them. Just getting a glimpse of you—I don’t know if I’m cut out to make the decisions but if I was a GM that sounds like a damn great person to build my team around.”

Paige swallowed, her fingers curling around Azzi’s. She didn’t say anything right away, but the tension in her shoulders slowly began to ease.

Azzi squeezed Paige’s hand gently, grounding her before she continued. "No, you might not be the same Paige from high school—the one who filmed TikToks with kids after games and didn’t mind when hundreds of people waited for her and warmed her." She glanced up, making sure Paige was listening. "But this version of you? This perfect version of you that I love more than anything in this world. You still find time to make people’s day, even when you don’t realize it."

Paige exhaled softly, her body relaxing against Azzi.

"It’s gonna take time to get used to it again," Azzi admitted. "And that’s perfectly fine. Until then, just doing it in small bursts is enough." She played with the ring on Paige’s finger again. "And just so we’re clear—you are not obligated to give your time to anyone."

Paige let out a quiet huff of laughter, shaking her head slightly.

Azzi raised an eyebrow, a smile forming. "What?"

Paige turned to her, her blue eyes soft and filled with something Azzi recognized instantly. "I just love you," she whispered. "And I’m so thankful that God brought you into my life."

While Paige was saying this, Azzi's brown eyes were locked onto Paige’s blue ones the entire time. Her heart swelled, a slow smile forming as she whispered, "I love you too beautiful."

Azzi held Paige’s gaze for a moment before suddenly perking up. “One sec,” she said, standing up before Paige could question her.

Paige watched in confusion as Azzi walked toward her actual seat on the bus, rummaging through her bag. “What are you doing?” she said, brows furrowing.

“Hold on,” Azzi replied, focused as she finally pulled something out. She turned back, making her way toward Paige again, a small box now in her hand.

When she reached her, she held it out. “Here,” she said. “Open it.”

Paige looked at the box, then back at Azzi, suspicion flickering across her features. “Azzi…”

Azzi groaned, already anticipating the resistance. “Don’t be difficult.”

Paige huffed out a quiet laugh, shaking her head before finally lifting the lid. Her breath hitched when she saw the delicate silver necklace inside, a heart-shaped locket resting in the center. She blinked, stunned, before looking back up at Azzi, who was watching her with a soft smile.

“Open the locket,” Azzi said gently.

Paige carefully lifted the necklace from the box, her fingers grazing the cool metal as she unclasped the locket. Inside there was a small picture staring back at her—one of the first pictures they’d taken together. The memory was still so clear even though it seemed like two different versions of them.

A lump formed in Paige’s throat as her fingers trembled slightly, tracing the edge of the locket. No one had ever given her something like this before—something so thoughtful.

Azzi shifted beside her, watching her reaction closely. “You always say I make crowds and things like that easier,” she rambled. “So, I wanted to give you that—so you know I’m always there, even when I can’t be physically next to you.”

Paige took a long exhale, her chest tightening in a way she couldn’t quite explain. Slowly, she looked back up at Azzi, her blue eyes glistening.

“Baby…this is beautiful,” she whispered, her voice almost lost in the empty bus.

Azzi smiled and reached for the locket. “Here, let me put it on.”

Paige turned slightly, pulling her hair to the side as Azzi unclasped the necklace and carefully fastened it around her neck. Her fingers lingered for a moment, rubbing the back of Paige’s neck gently which only made her chest fill with more warmth.

When Paige let her hair fall back into place, her fingers found the locket resting against her shirt. She held it lightly, rubbing her thumb over the surface. “I love it,” she admitted, her voice softer than before, more vulnerable. “I love you.”

Azzi grinned, nudging Paige’s knee with her own. “I know.”

Paige rolled her eyes, a chuckle escaping her lips. “Bro you’re annoying.”

Azzi laughed, nudging her one more time. “I love you too, big head.”

They sat there for a moment in comfortable silence, both knowing they needed to head back inside. With a shared sigh, they stood, their fingers brushing briefly before Azzi stepped toward the door.

Just before they stepped off the bus, Paige gently grabbed Azzi’s wrist, stopping her in place. Azzi turned, a silent question in her eyes, but before she could say anything, Paige tugged her in, pressing a delicate kiss to her lips.

Azzi, of course, kissed her back, her hand resting on Paige’s hip, rubbing a few circles against her skin before she pulled away slightly. “You ready to go back to the chaos?”

Paige huffed out a laugh, shaking her head. “Not really,” she admitted.

Azzi grinned. “Too bad. I gotta go be the people’s princess.” With that, she grabbed Paige’s hand, giving it a quick squeeze before pulling her off the bus. As they neared the entrance, they made sure to drop their hands, slipping seamlessly back into the world that was waiting for them.

This time, though, Paige felt much better about everything.

[blackknight-kai]

SW/DO... you grab his tail

spoilert alert: it's sensitive

seriously this trope has so much potential. He can flustered, amused, used to to play with you and it's hellishly strong so it can be used as a another limb... just saying

Anon asked: Ello, we all know that the monkei bois would love the reader very much sooo....what if..what if...you wrote about how they couldn't control their tails around the reader despite how hard they might want to.

This can be done in the form of just the tail holding the reader's waist or their tails outting their feelings when trying to appear tough and nonchalant for the reader.

(P.S. I love your work so much!! :)

OKAY! So you both had a thought on the same track. And I HAVE THOUGHTS. There will be some things I keep to myself just yet, because I do have fics I’m writing etc LOL.

I’m gonna start with the fun silly thoughts. (This first bit will go for both SW & DO as a ‘set up’ - a drabble will be down below for one of each)

- [ ] Anon, you are on the right thought there. I imagine his tail is the one thing you can count on to tell you how he’s feeling or what’s happening.

- [ ] He has to actively think about it to make that limb STOP moving and giving him away and 90% of the time he forgets .

- [ ] Generally his tail is fairly still or just moves casually, sometimes it would flick or swish if he’s feeling a strong emotion, he’s never had to worry about it before. But when it comes to you? Oh no that thing fucking LOVES you.

- [ ] As soon as he hears you, smells you, or see’s you that tail is activated

- [ ] He can pout or be dramatic or pretend to be annoyed all he wants but that tail is and will always be a simp for you and will tell you immediately what he’s feeling.

- [ ] It took a while to translate what each specific movement means but over time you become an expert at knowing what each twitch or flick or swish meant. You can judge quickly by the pace it moves or if the movements are jerky and twitchy. Or if it’s lazy and playful. This fact is something that gets under his skin because he cannot hide from you.

- [ ] It’s adorable to see him out of the corner of your eye slap his tail when he realizes it’s doing something stupid like trying to sneakily wrap around some part of you or giving his mood away.

- [ ] Enarian, friend, you got it right too. That tail is sensitive as HELL. So when it acts like a little homing beacon (without his conscious thought) and latches on to you it does all kinds of fuckery to him internally and he has to stop himself from physically reacting (if he catches himself fast enough).

- [ ] Once in a while though he wont notice that he’s hooked his tail around you and you have to debate with yourself on do you tell him or nah?

- [ ] It’s soft as hell too.

- [ ] He is used to baby monkeys grabbing his tail and playing with it. He always used to stiffen it and let them hang from it or he would wrap it around them and toss them in the air making them giggle and make adorable monkey noises of surprise before catching them with it. But thats about it and unless he was purposely using it to mess with someone he generally keeps it to himself. Until you.

- [ ] Before you guys get together that thing makes him a MESS. He doesnt know what to do because when you make his heart race his tail of course has to swish and flick like an excited cub.

- [ ] When hes flustered it goes a little poofy and flicks just so and he HATES that he can see the knowing amusement in your eyes as you catch on.

- [ ] One thing he does note though is how much you seem to love his tail. Not just because it gives him away, oh no. You stare at it longingly when you think hes not looking.

- [ ] He will definitely hit you with it (gently) and hold down his shiver when it touches you. He enjoys the little laugh you make and how you bat at his tail with your hand.

- [ ] I HC that Monkeys have courting gestures and tail language/touches are part of it. He has definitely been making those specific motions regardless of knowingly or not.

- [ ] His tail is possessive of you - by extension he is. He knows you wont go for anyone else and hes secure in that, but no one else’s tail is going to cling to you or brush against you. This is a mates touching zone only.

Destined One

Before you two got together his tail used to make him oh so angry. At first he didn’t notice its sudden…interest in you. Nor did he notice how it gave away his true emotions as he was unused to having to pay attention to it before leaving home on his journey. He’s not stupid though and while he doesnt talk much if ever he is observant. The way your eyes started to flick to his tail caught his attention and at first he thought it was because you were a human and curious about it. But then one afternoon while he was trying act unaffected by you tending to a wound he had gotten his heart was pounding at your close proximity and he felt restless but he made sure not to move an inch nor show his turmoil on his face. He noticed your eyes dart to his side and the small smile you had on your face. Curious he looked over only for his whole body stiffen as his tail was…..swishing in a specific pattern. The movement itself a sign of happiness and contentment amongst his people and he was NOT used to his tail doing this, having never been one for expressing his feelings be it on his face or his tail. His body language was always that of steely determination and focus.

That one simple realization opened a whole new problem for him as he very quickly became aware that his tail NEVER stopped doing stupid things around you and apparently you had been observing every detail during your travels. It’s embarrassing. The knowing little smiles on your face as his tail curls and uncurls happily as he tries to pretend that you pulling twigs out of his fur doesnt make him practically melt inside from the simple act of grooming alone. Or when he’d spooked you by turning into a peach and transforming at the last second as you go to take a bite, hed kept a straight face as you pouted at him. You’d immediately called him out for ‘laughing’ at you even though no sound left his throat or mouth as, of course, his tail swished merrily behind him giving his amusement away.

It’s not just that though, the stupid thing will NOT stop touching you now that he’s hyper aware of not only his growing feelings but also what had been going on with his tail giving his emotional state away. He has to actively make sure his tail remains where it should which is difficult when he’s trying to also keep an ear out for danger and keep an eye on you. You either dont notice or dont mind his clingy appendage. He certainly does. Especially with how sensitive it is and how often he finds it slithering across the small gap between you two just to anchor itself on your arm or leg like a soft little hook. Every time it brushes your skin it sends thousands of little signals through his body and he just hopes you dont notice how hard he has to concentrate not to shudder. His tail is always needy and starved for your warmth and it’s embarrassing how often he has to grab it mid anchor attempt or tuck it inside his shirt/pants just to keep it from touching you.

It doesnt get better either because as you get comfortable with it you seem to allow his tail purchase on you. Even petting it sometimes and making his mouth go dry and his breath catch in his throat. It’s honestly overwhelming and sends his senses into overdrive as his entire world narrows down to the feel of you against his tail. Most day’s is all he can do not to wrap it around your waist and lock you to him.

The day you grabbed his tail was something he will forever be embarrassed about. He apparently was too distracted by eating dinner to notice your annoyance with it. You both had had a long day, the fighting seemed to never end and you were taking a very late dinner having missed both breakfast and lunch due to being interrupted out of your sleep that morning by a fearsome foe. Neither of you spoke as you set up a quick camp that night and settled into a quick dinner before the last light of the day went out. He was tired and irritated, wanting nothing more than to go to sleep and rest his aching muscles. His tail apparently decided to reflect his frustration’s unbeknownst to him. It wasn’t until you let out an annoyed huff and snatched his tail with a firm but gentle hand that he realized he had been thumping it rhythmically against your thigh. The instinctual noise that left his throat was high pitched and surprised, with a slight edge of a moan to it as of course your touch to the sensitive appendage was pleasing. A little too pleasing. At the sound you both still and look at each other with wide eyes.

You’d followed after him stumbling through the woods in the dark as he shot up and stalked away, his tail flicking with embarrassment behind him. He’d taken pity on you as your eyes couldnt see in the dark like his and had stopped. Things were said, feelings were shared, and at the end of it all as you lie there getting ready to sleep that night he shyly allowed his tail to curl around your leg consciously for the first time.

Slight NSFW thoughts

- [ ] Over time you realized how sensitive that tail really is. Purposely you would snatch it just to watch his whole body stiffen and the fur on his neck fluff up before he turns and gives you a heated (not with anger) glare.

- [ ] As you become more comfortable in your new relationship so does the tail and his reaction which doesnt bode well for you all the time especially since he’s always on the look out now for you to try to grab it.

- [ ] He’s noticed how your skin reacts when he brushes it against you softly and that handsome smirk on his face he gets as goosebumps prickle up on you makes you melt.

- [ ] He still gets embarrassed by it giving his true clingy nature away but now his teasing playful nature has settled in to outweigh his previous frustrations.

- [ ] You learn very quickly not to stroke his tail. Not unless you want a very disgruntled heavy breathing monkey carrying you off to somewhere safe/private to let out his rising need. His tail would be flicking impatiently behind him the whole way of course.

- [ ] You also learn how freaking strong the damn thing is, you’d known before as he has used it to push you out of the way as needed, but especially when hes sleeping its like an unmoving vice around whatever part of you it has wrapped around.

- [ ] In more, desperate situations he uses it as almost like a third hand. Yanking you as he pleases or holding you open so he has a free hand. It anchors you possessively to him in your passion.

- [ ] He’s also discovered you like how the soft fur feels against your nipples and he uses that to his advantage more than he should.

Wukong

Wukong has been around a long long time. He can be both oblivious and hyper vigilant about many things. One thing he was very aware of was his tail complete and utter lack of disrespect for its owner. If this was happening to ANYONE else it would be hysterical and he would never ever let them live it down. But it’s not. So it’s not funny. It’s aggravating and embarrassing. He is too old to be displaying such cub like behavior. His tail should do as he demands, it’s attached to him for fucks sake!

Unfortunately it has a mind of its own. And you are on its mind 25/8.

He very quickly caught on to how his tail reacts when you’re around. You were very careful not to give it away of course but he caught you one day peeking at his tail as he pretended to brush off your thanks after he had stopped you from tripping. Your grateful smile had made him feel twitch and warm, his heart galloping in his chest at the sight. But of course he couldnt have you knowing just a simple smile had him melting like an adolescent during season. Oh no. He grumped, acting put out, and poked and teased you commenting on your terrible walking skills. The usual. Normally you roll your eyes and scoff at his playful irritating words, and you did, but not after taking a quick glance behind him before a twinkle seemed to shine in your eye. He was instantly made aware of his tails happy little swish and flick, internally cursing he sniffed haughtily forcing it to stop. But the damage was done and try as he might to stop it, heat pricked at his cheeks.

This became a reoccurring issue. Every time he tried rebuff your thanks or act nonchalantly towards you his tail couldnt help itself but give his true feelings away, especially when your eyes fell towards it. It made teasing you all the more difficult and the knowing smirk on your face made him twitchy. Constantly he has to remind himself to keep an eye on the stupid thing when you’re around or when someone talks about you.

But you seem to have deciphered the language of tails for the most part. He doesnt know exactly HOW you figured it out honestly, he’s impressed. Clearly this has been going on for a while now too. It annoys the hell out of him as he finds himself flustered repeatedly and has to make a conscious effort to keep the silly thing still.

It also would. Not. Stop. Trying. To. Touch. You. The first time hed noticed THAT happening was embarrassing to say the least. You’d been walking next to him one evening, the dark creeping in as you both made your way back to camp after a little walk.

You are deep into a so called ‘scary’ story you’d been told as a kid. Wukong is listening intently, enjoying the sounds of your voice, when your sudden soft laughter cuts off your story. He’s always attuned to the sounds you make and instantly it made his old heart skip a beat. Masking it though he forces a pout and turns to grumble at you for stopping midway through the tale when he notices a strange sensation sending a tickle up his spine.

Glancing down he see’s to his shock his tail has hooked itself on to your hand, curling around your palm and your fingers are gently holding it, petting it a little with your thumb. His breath stutters as his fur ripples from the soft touch. You snickering catches his attention and he snaps gaze up to meet yours, your smiling and there is a little sparkle in your eye that makes him feel like he’s going to pop out of his skin.

To his embarrassment you teased him about being scared of the story and needing to hold your hand. He’d yanked his tail away and puffed up his chest before stomping off ahead saying he only did that because YOU sounded scared. In reality he had no clue he’d done it and your teasing laughter was stabbing holes in his pride. Your next comment threw him for a loop though. “Hey at least it was my hand this time.”

What that meant was quickly revealed to him as he started to notice how often his tail would gravitate towards you, either to simply brush against your side or leg. Or occasionally trying to hook on to you as you walk or relax close to him for the evening. Wukong found himself many a times sitting high up on a tree branch and grabbing his tail with a strangling grip, seething at it for not keeping itself to itself.

Eventually he had to come to terms with its apparent infatuation with you and you it. Outside of it betraying his thoughts and emotions he has trouble with how sensitive it is and how much you seem to enjoy touching it. It’s bad enough when his tail brushes against you, he has to steel himself to not react, but you petting it absentmindedly? Thats something else entirely. It takes every ounce of his strength, patience, and resolve to not make a sound or to not do something shameful when your fingers happen to slide over his tail.

Wukong does his best to work around the issue so you dont catch on to his plight, playfully hitting you with it or tickling your cheek. Simple things to distract you from his reactions.

One day though he’d had the brilliant idea to mess with you as was his favorite pastime. You’d just gotten done having a wash and yeah, he probably should have paid closer attention to his timing but he was eager to see your pouting annoyed face and your adorable annoyed reaction to the idea that had cropped up in his head. And so, with his keen hyper hearing he listens for when you finish dressing and begin fiddling with your pack.

With a good amount of speed, enough that you wont see him coming, he zips through the trees and grabs you tossing you high up into the air. He cackles as you let out a surprised scream and as you fall, passing by the tree branch he had settled himself he catches you by the ankle with his strong tail. “WUKONG!” You scream at him and he leans over to look at down at you and laugh at your red face. Your face is an angry red, reddest he’s ever seen in fact, but thats not all he notices. As you sway, dangling by the ankle his tail is still holding, you are bent at an awkward angle holding your shirt between your legs. Bare legs.

He catches a glimpse of what your hiding and his tail loosens as his jaw goes slack from the realization that you had not put on your underclothes yet, nor your pants. Your scream as you fall snaps him out of his heated surprise and he moves with lightning speed to catch you. Your face is extremely red and you dont dare look at him as he gently sets you down on your feet. “Leave me.” Is all your cold embarrassed voice demands and he gives a quick jerky nod before stalking off.

Wukong is stuck then by a mixture of emotions as he waits for you back at your little camp. On one hand he’d seen something he could only ever let himself fantasize about in his dreams or precious moments alone. On the other, he’d seen it without your consent and while upsetting you throughly in the process. His heart doesnt stop racing for even a moment as his thoughts bombard him. Hearing your footsteps return to camp some time later makes him oddly nervous.

As you step into view Wukong stands and you two look at each other for a few moments taking each other in. His tail is oddly still. In fact it’s hanging stiffly behind him and the tip is curled just a little between his legs. He doesnt fear you, no. He fears causing you genuine hurt and pain. Seeing his tail and his furrowed brow that he doesnt bother to hide you sigh and relax your tense shoulders before sitting down close by to him.

The conversation that night is difficult. You both being upset for different reasons and being unsure about how to move forward. It takes him allowing himself a moment of vulnerability for you to meet him half way. The words done come easy but you both finally talk about the strange tension between you, the mutual care and enjoyment of each other. Feelings are almost whispered between you and finally, finally Wukong can wrap his arms and tail around you without fear as you now know the depths of his feelings.

Slight NSFW thoughts!

- [ ] Wukong definitely still messes with you 24/7.

- [ ] His tail is a prime suspect at all times.

- [ ] Very rarely will it be still around you. But even being a couple has its challenges and in the beginning there are several instances where his tail hangs down motionlessly with the tip curled between his calves. It’s not fear in those moments, it’s a show of his despair over upsetting you. This specific action becomes rarer over time.

- [ ] Once he discovers how much you REALLY like the damn thing he pretty much as it anchored to you all the time.

- [ ] When he needs two hands he makes sure his tail is settled into your hand wrapped or around some part of you.

- [ ] When you realize just how sensitive the appendage is its game on. You have ammo now to tease him back, purposely brushing your fingers through the fur on it or maybe teasingly bringing it up to your lips for a little kiss.

- [ ] Watching his fur puff up at your little actions is endlessly amusing.

- [ ] Until he turns the tables on you.

- [ ] Be prepared for his tail to swipe at you with very specific intentions. It will caress your ass or you might find it slithering between your legs for a moment to tease you over your clothes before he prances off with a smirk.

- [ ] Would he swipe his tail through your juices so he can smell it again later like a perv? Yes.

- [ ] He’s going to use that strong as hell tail to make sure your body is exactly where he wants it or he will wrap it around your waist and hold you steady as you move on top of him, his hands free to do as they please.

- [ ] Don’t tempt him because he might even try having sex with you upside down hanging from a tree by just his tail.

- [ ] Cuddling? Yeah his tail is involved 24/7, I hope you enjoy your new clingy best friend.

[nilsavatar]

DAY 23 - BITING part 2

Parings: Neteyam x Fem!human

PART 1, PART 3, PART 4

Genre/Warnings: fluff, ANGST, introspective, delicate themes (hibrid pregnacy). All characters are AGED-UP. This the sequel of the @layla2-49 request used to fullfil the promp day 23 of lunakinktober 2023

Summary: Following the unexpected pairing that occurred at the Tree of Souls, after connecting as only two Na'vi normally could, Celeste and Neteyam entertain a clandestine relationship. Several times they have discussed coming out, but the girl is too prey to her insecurities as a human to do so. It is Eywa who will decide for both of them with a disconcerting revelation: they have conceived a hybrid child.

Word Count: 4k

Masterlist - Request a fic

Celeste had been... different ever since Neteyam had brought her back to the human compound after collecting panopyra samples in the forest. Brighter, in a way. She visited Hometree more willingly and more often, interacting with the village women who now welcomed her with smiles and involved her in their activities whenever possible; she had discovered a particular talent for dyeing accessories the Omatikaya used to adorn their bodies with.

A soft half-smile spread across Spider’s lips as he watched her playing with a group of children on a nearby platform. They were about Tuk’s age, more or less, but already as tall as the girl, who wasn’t exactly towering herself compared to her twin brother. A genetic joke between heterozygotes. He would have lingered longer on seeing his sister finally out of the lab, out of her shell—he would have even laughed at the odd hairstyle the kids were braiding into her hair—but his gaze was drawn elsewhere. Specifically, to the Sully brothers, who were descending with long strides down the path carved into the massive tree trunk that served as a home for the entire clan, each carrying a yerik carcass over their shoulders. Another successful hunt, he thought with a twinge of envy.

How much he would have loved to prove his worth by helping sustain the People, but Spider was just a human. Not to mention Nash and Mary would have killed him if he even tried. And Celeste, especially Celeste!

Following the instructions of an elder hunter, the two young men carried their prey to a tent, where it would be skinned and butchered. When they reemerged, the brothers were playfully shoving each other and exchanging teasing remarks. Neteyam was already cleaning his arrows checking them for any damage. Amidst an “I did a cleaner kill” and a “My shot was more precise”, Spider joined the conversation with his typical warm greeting. “Back already?” “Missed us?” “Nah, I could’ve done without that skxawng face of yours.” The jab was meant as a joke, but Spider couldn’t quite hide the unease—and the faint irritation—from his tone. At least when it came to Lo’ak, they knew each other far too well. That irrational sense of protective older-brother energy was definitely misplaced.

“You’ve noticed it too, haven’t you?” “Depends on what we’re talking about.” “Teyam’s been acting strange lately.” That phrase was music to his ears, the confirmation that it wasn’t all in his head. But he decided to let his friend elaborate before sharing his concerns. He wanted evidence, not just vague conjectures. “Like what?” “I don’t know, bro. He doesn’t scold me like he usually does. He’s less uptight, whether we’re hunting or training. He smiles more, but he seems distracted a lot of the time. It’s like…” “He’s in love,” Spider finished for him. “Yeah. But you know how private he is. No one can get him to say who the girl is.” “Any idea who it might be?” “Nothing solid. Mom thinks it could be Nirat. Like her mother, she’s an excellent singer, but I don’t think that’s the kind of thing that would sway him enough to choose her as a mate.” “Mm, I agree. He’s not the type to be won over so easily. Singing is a beautiful talent, but just because it’s been decided that the next generation of leaders will be a brother-sister duo doesn’t mean Teyam’s standards for finding a strong mate to support the clan would change.” “Yeah, it can’t be Nirat, even though she’d kill for it to be her.”

Spider’s eyes drifted back to the person in question, who wasn’t even trying to hide how intently he was watching the human girl. The expression on his face was that of someone who had just put all the pieces together. “You know who it is?” “Let’s just say I have an idea. But I need confirmation.” As if some higher power had decided to fulfill his words, the decisive proof appeared before their incredulous eyes.

Nirat, dressed to the nines, with a flower tucked into her loose hair—a clear sign of her availability for courtship—made her way through the hunters to reach the future olo’eyktan. The beads adorning her ankles and wrists jingled with every step as she swayed her hips and fluttered her thick black lashes. At another time, Spider would have enjoyed the show, complete with boisterous chuckles and suggestive elbow nudges to Lo’ak, not holding back his commentary on the assertiveness of certain Na’vi women. Instead, his attention instinctively shifted back to his sister, whose expression spoke volumes.

Her lips were pressed into a deep pout, her wide, furious eyes fixed in a murderous glare at the eldest Sully. Her chest rose and fell in quick, frantic breaths, the intensity of which fogged up her mask. And then, the moment of drama. Mumbling some excuse, she got up despite the children’s protests. With a stormy expression, she left the clearing and returned to her refuge of experiments and disinfectants. But even with her head bowed, she couldn’t hide from her brother the fact that she was about to burst into tears—or from Neteyam.

The warrior brushed off the would-be suitor and moved to run after her, but Spider stopped him just in time, a hand on his torso to hold him in place. “Let her cool off. Talking to her now won’t do any good.” Neteyam opened his mouth to argue, to defend himself, but he knew his friend was right. In her current state, the girl would only push him away and retreat further into herself, buried in her stupid sense of inferiority and not belonging—even though the Great Mother herself had shown her otherwise. Gritting his teeth, his ears pinned back against his head, he looked for a moment past the human in the direction where Spider’s sister had disappeared. Then, with a sigh that deepened his already gloomy expression, he met his glare again and nodded. But before he could turn on his heel and retreat into his own bubble of frustration, Spider stopped him again. “What are your intentions with my sister?” It was pointless to evade the question, and in any case, Neteyam wasn’t the type.

Once she returned to the cold walls of the compound, Celeste did what she did best: locked herself in the lab, where the only sources of light were the plexiglass tanks and the computer monitors. One, to be precise, was on at that moment: hers. She sat there as though hiding from something, or rather someone. Someone who knew exactly where to find her. Her nerves were on edge, her suspicious eyes darting at every faint sound her feeble human ears could pick up.

Her irritated gaze flitted from the tablet in her hand to the tall figure that had just stepped across the threshold, the faint screech of the sliding door announcing his presence. Before her, in the dim room, the panopyra tank cast pale violet lights onto the young scientist’s face. Inside, the curious zooplantae drifted gracefully and hypnotically. Its presence seemingly consuming all of Celeste Socorro’s time and energy.

The supporting roots had intertwined to form a stem now, firmly anchored to the tank’s lid. From its core, several ends branched out to hold up the wide, inverted dome. Small, symmetrical dots outlined its surface, converging at the center, from which luminous tentacles extended. They now reacted to the insistent probing of mechanical fingers. At the ends of these, ultra-thin needles penetrated various points of the lively tentacles, immediately recording the data collected in the computerized system that Celeste held in her hands. Her goal? Entirely ignoring him.

The Na'vi couldn’t bring himself to break the silence immediately. He stood still, observing the scene for several long moments, trying to figure out how to approach her without making things worse. The way she moved—mechanical, precise, almost frantic—told him more than any words could. She was shaken. Hurt. She turned her back to him when Neteyam didn’t take the silent cue to leave. “I’m busy.” She was still mad. Fair enough. The warrior armed himself with his best smile, hoping to ease the tension. “I thought you might be hungry,” he said, setting the tray he had been carrying onto the table. “You’ve been in here for hours.”

Celeste felt a warm blush flood her cheeks. She bit the inside of her cheek until that familiar metallic taste of blood spread on her tongue. She wanted to set down the data pad, hug him, thank him for the thoughtful gesture, and tell him how sweet he was, but she was too angry to give in. If anything, seeing him only irritated her more. She could still picture Nirat wrapping herself around him like a jellyfish. Like the panopyra she was studying. So she asked, caustically, if he was stalking her, turning just in time to catch the hurt and disappointed look on his face.

“Yawne,” he said, all his regret poured into that single affectionate word, and guilt hit her like a punch to the gut. She knew Neteyam—his sense of loyalty, his serious and honorable nature. He wasn’t a playboy, nor someone who toyed with women for amusement. It wasn’t fitting for a leader, and more importantly, it wasn’t in his character. But she let her insecurities take over. Deep down, Celeste knew no one would approve of their relationship. It didn’t matter that the current olo’eyktan was human: Jake had an avatar; physically, he had more in common with a Na’vi than humans. And he was Toruk Makto. She had nothing to offer the clan… or Neteyam. She couldn’t become a member of the Omatikaya, and despite the tsahìk question being resolved by Kiri, young Socorro couldn’t promise him anything, least of all a family. What had been happening for months at the Tree of Souls—those strange tubular growths the roots formed at the base of her neck when they made love—meant nothing.

“Share your thoughts with me, Cel. Please.” She pressed her lips together, her shoulders rigid. “You should court Nirat,” she said curtly, trying to keep her composure. It felt like a stab to the heart. “… What?” “She’ll make an excellent mate. She’s beautiful, well-liked, and has a lovely voice that lifts spirits.” Well-liked? He wanted to ask sarcastically—Nirat was a snake. “We should tell the truth about us,” he answered instead, with that infuriatingly calm tone he knew drove her mad, though it masked a deep inner turmoil: the fear of what she might say next, words that could break his heart. “Everyone will know, and Nirat will get over it. I’m taken.” His response made the girl falter, her breathing slowed almost imperceptibly, but the fire in her eyes didn’t entirely die. “You just don’t get it, do you? I’m human, Teyam. I’ll always be out of place. Always… less. No matter what I do, I’ll never be like you. Never enough to truly belong in this world.” Neteyam took a step forward, slowly, cautiously. “You don’t need to be like us, Cel. You need to be yourself—that’s what makes you special. That’s what makes me see you, even when I look at everything else.”

Her eyes widened, startled by those loving words, which seemed to slip out before the young Na’vi could stop them. For a moment, she was speechless, her heart pounding in her chest, and he stepped closer, now only a breath away. He looked her directly in the eyes, unwavering. “I don’t know how to say this without sounding foolish,” he murmured. “I see you, Celeste. I have for a long time. When I whisper what I feel to you at the Tree of Souls, those aren’t just words said in the heat of the moment. I felt your spirit bond with mine. You’re a part of me. And when you hurt, I hurt too.”

She met his gaze, her expression pained. “But at what cost? You’re destined to lead your people. How can you do that with someone like me by your side? Even if the clan has learned to tolerate me, it doesn’t change the fact that I’m human.” The prince shook his head, his tone softening with a faint smile. “I’m not Eywa, tìyawn. I don’t know all her plans. But I know one thing. She wouldn’t have united us if our love was wrong.” Celeste swallowed, the words caught in her throat. She felt vulnerable, exposed, as though Neteyam had just torn down all the walls she had built around herself. “I… I don’t know what to say,” she admitted, her voice barely audible. “You don’t have to say anything,” he replied with a small smile. “Just don’t run away from me anymore. Please.”

A heavy silence fell between them, broken only by the faint hum of the machinery. Celeste lowered her gaze, biting her lip. Then, with hesitation that spoke of years of insecurity, she gave a small nod. “We’ll explain to them that Eywa chose you for me. We are mated before the Great Mother.” “Sure, we’ll tell them how that plant intoxicated us, and while we were… you know… the roots of the Tree of Voices somehow created a temporary kuru so we could connect. Nothing weird about that!” “Yawne,” he whispered, kneeling to press his forehead against hers, a gesture that felt more comforting than anything else. “Don’t underestimate our families. They’ll understand. Deep down, they probably always suspected this would happen—it was only a matter of time.” The scientist let out a tired smile, though doubt still flickered in her eyes. “I wish I could believe it’s that simple.” “You know you’re sexy when you’re jealous?” “Stop it, moron.” She blushed, shy but unable to suppress the warm laugh that finally broke the tension that had built up over weeks of secret moments and arguments. With that open confrontation, they accepted the challenges and joys their union would bring. Neteyam gently cupped her face, his fingers strong yet tender, brushing over her human skin with the reverence reserved for something sacred. They seemed suspended in perfect calm, and just as they were about to seal everything with a kiss, a strange sound escaped her lips. An unexpected spasm interrupted the moment as Celeste doubled over, one hand to her mouth, the other clutching her stomach. She rushed to the sink as violent retching overtook her. The young Na’vi steadied her firmly, his face etched with concern. “It must’ve been something I ate. It’s nothing,” she said between ragged breaths, trying to downplay it, but it wasn’t nothing.

In the following days, the girl continued to suffer from nausea and growing weakness. Despite her reluctance, Neteyam insisted she get visited. “I don’t want to alarm the clan or make them think there’s a problem, especially now that we’ve decided to go public,” she argued, trying to pacify him. “We need to figure out what’s happening. This has to be serious to leave you like this,” he said, his voice soft but resolute. Celeste sighed, resting a hand on her forehead. “Maybe it’s just stress. There’s no need to panic.” He shook his head, determined. “It’s not normal for you to be like this. Please, get checked out. If you won’t do it for yourself, do it for me—for Spider.” His golden eyes were filled with worry.

When her symptoms worsened, she had no choice.

The infirmary was quiet, lit only by the soft glow of lamps—a bubble of technological modernity nestled within Pandora's untamed beauty. Norm and Max worked with the scanning equipment while the girl lay on the exam table, her face pale and marked by exhaustion. For days, she had suffered from dizziness and an inexplicable heaviness. As the machine hummed softly, scanning her body, she sought comfort in Neteyam’s gaze. He knelt by her side, his fingers fidgeting nervously. Behind them stood Spider, arms crossed, his expression unreadable. Though they tried to appear calm, their eyes betrayed a growing unease.

After what felt like an eternity, Max’s eyes widened, glued to the screen in disbelief and a hint of fear. “This… this isn’t possible,” he said, his voice trembling slightly. Celeste sat up, alarmed. “What isn’t possible?” The doctor double-checked the readings, frowning. “There’s no sign of infection or poisoning. Your vital signs are stable, but…” He hesitated, glancing at Norm. “What?” she whispered. Max took a deep breath and pointed at the screen. “There’s an unusual reading… Though maybe calling it unusual isn’t accurate.” “What do you mean?” Neteyam leaned forward, his golden eyes fixed on the monitor, staring at the dark speck on the display. With another sigh, Max activated a 3D image showing a tiny, pulsating structure, barely perceptible. “You’re pregnant.”

The room fell into an oppressive, deafening silence. The patient stared at the dark speck on the monitor, unable to form a response. Her heart pounding louder than the sound of the equipment, she finally whispered, “There must be a mistake. Neteyam and I… we’re biologically incompatible.” Norm nodded slowly. “In theory, you’re right. But I’ve checked the parameters once again. There’s no mistake. All the signs are there: elevated hormones, physiological changes, and an embryonic presence. Sweetheart, it’s happened—you’re truly pregnant.”

Despite feeling her grip on his fingers tighten, Neteyam couldn’t tear his eyes away from the medical terminal. The voices around him faded into a distant echo, as though he couldn’t fully process what he was hearing and seeing. This was news no one had ever anticipated—something no one had ever considered as it was supposed to be impossible. Behind them, Spider paced back and forth, his hands buried in his dreadlocks. “No, no, no.” He shook his head, unable to accept what they were saying. “There has to be another explanation. Maybe some genetic mutation, or…” He trailed off, his voice trembling.

A whirlwind of thoughts spun through the mind of the Omatikaya prince, visions of a hazy future, each scenario more terrifying than the last, all culminating in the absence of the woman he loved. “What are we supposed to do now?” Cel… the baby. Everything felt so… uncertain. “It all depends on what you decide to do,” Norm suggested, a clear implication hanging in the air. “Terminate the pregnancy?” “… it’s the simplest option.”

Celeste’s eyes filled with tears. As much as her rational side whispered that this was the most logical and risk-free solution, she already felt a deep connection to the being growing inside her. As though she sensed there was something larger at play than just motherhood, a bond with… “Eywa,” she murmured simply. “The effect of the panopyra, our union at the Tree of Voice, this,” she wrapped her arms protectively around her stomach. “The Great Mother united us for a reason, but this child… it’s a hybrid, yawne. We don’t know what that entails, or what will happen to your health. And no one here can help us. Your technology isn’t equipped to handle these kinds of… anomalies.” His heart pounded, his mind clashing with every possibility. How could he protect his mate and their child from a fate that seemed so dangerous? “Are you asking me to—?” “No! Eywa, no. I would never ask you to do that. But… I’m terrified, okay? You’re my person. It’s my job to protect you from harm, but how can I when I don’t understand what’s happening? I had come to terms with the fact that we wouldn’t have a family of our own. And being just us was enough for me, 'cause as long as I had you, nothing else mattered. But now… the most beautiful, incredible thing in the world has happened, and I can’t even celebrate it because it might…” He couldn’t bring himself to say the word.

The tension between them grew, and at that moment, another voice broke into the room. Spider, who had been silently sitting in the corner, sprang to his feet as if struck by lightning. His face was pale and strained, his eyes swollen with horror. The news had overwhelmed him. “This… this is too much! It’s not possible!” he shouted, his voice trembling. “You… Neteyam! How the hell did this happen?! How could you let this happen?!” Her brother's words, loaded with rage and panic, hit Neteyam like a punch. His face twisted. “This is all your fault! You’re Na’vi! This child…” Celeste stood up, frightened by her brother’s outburst, and took a step forward to intervene. “Spider, calm down… it’s no one’s fault. It’s not what you think.”

But Spider couldn’t contain his anxiety. His fear drove him to act without thinking. “You don’t understand! Do you know what you’re risking? This… this baby isn’t just a symbol of an impossible union—it’s a danger to you!” he shouted, his eyes filled with terror and disillusionment. “What will carrying a Na’vi-human hybrid do to your body? How much energy will it drain from you? Have you thought about how big the fetus will get before it’s born? How will you deliver it?”

Neteyam glared back at him with equal fury, his heart pounding, his posture stiff, his face tense. But there was also a sense of helplessness constricting him because, deep down, he didn’t know how to handle the situation either. The weight of responsibility and dread was crushing him. “I didn’t choose this, Spider. But it’s happened, and we have to face it together,” he said at last, trying to keep his voice steady. Spider, crushed, looked at the future olo’eyktan with eyes filled with both anger and anguish. “I can’t accept this,” he finally said, his voice reduced to a whisper.

It was at that moment that Kiri entered the room, sensing the intensity of the argument. When she saw him so agitated, she approached him calmly. “Monkey boy,” she said, her voice soothing. “This isn’t a threat. It’s proof of how great Eywa’s power is. This child… it’s not just a mistake. It’s a sign, something that goes beyond our fears.” Spider seemed shaken but couldn’t put aside the distress gnawing at him. Neteyam, though hearing the weight of Kiri’s words, still couldn’t let go of his worry. His need to protect Celeste was all-consuming, and the idea that she might be at such great risk devastated him.

Kiri’s face was calm yet resolute. “Brother, don’t be afraid. This is the path the Great Mother has chosen for you. Her decisions are always wise, even when we cannot fully understand them.” Her voice carried the gravity of an ancient truth, and silence filled the room. Then she approached Celeste gently, placing a comforting hand on her shoulder. “This isn’t just your life at stake. This creature is a manifestation of the union of two opposite worlds, worlds that have been at odds until now. It’s the beginning of something new, a path forward together. We’ve seen signs of this connection. Your child is a blessing.”

Neteyam looked at his sister with eyes full of questions, but at last, a small glimmer of hope began to grow within him. Perhaps, despite all his fears, this child had a purpose beyond what he could see. Spider, though still harboring doubts, lowered his gaze. The consternation remained, but Kiri’s intervention seemed to have, at least, partially soothed his anxieties.

“We’ll do this together,” Celeste said, extending one hand toward her mate and the other toward her twin, her look locking with theirs, filled with an intensity they had never seen before. “We’ll face this future, whatever it may bring.” Neteyam took a deep breath, gathering the courage he needed. He didn’t have all the answers yet, but deep down, he knew he would stand by her side. And maybe, in time, he could learn to embrace this destiny that seemed impossible to comprehend.

“You can’t do this alone,” Kiri concluded. “Maybe it’s time to speak with Mo’at.”

[ronearoundblindly]

I have a request! This can be for your ‘Every Cevans character’ or you can choose specific guys from your fics like Fools Rush in! Steve / Root of All! Ransom etc.. whichever you want :)

What does initiating sex look like for the boys? I’m curious which guys do think initiate sex the most? Or do some only wait for the girl to initiate? I have a feeling Jakey boy waits for his girl initiate most of the time 🤣. Maybe there’s some where it’s 50/50? Curious to know your thoughts.

Yeah, sorry I completely wiffed getting this done yesterday, but here's half of the promised content! I did try to reference most of my other works for multiple story insights...

Warnings for discussion of sex, but nothing explicit.

James Mace

Unfortunately, Mace gets distracted by work, spending tons of time (even when you're together) chasing possibilities down rabbit holes, so sometimes you have to remind him that what you two have is real and, like a living thing, will die without oxygen. In this case, oxygen is affection and attention. He...gets it and then forgets again after a while. Mace doesn't need a hard push by any means, but in total, initiating sex is close to 50-50.

He's not a big romancer, but that doesn't mean Mace can't be deeply romantic. Initiating simply looks like more of a "you feeling it?"-type conversation rather than gentle, building foreplay. That said...Mace, when you too are intimate, is 100% focused on you and your pleasure and connection together. He's a very practical compartmentalizer, meaning he also goes hard on the mission in front of him 😉 ya dig?

Curtis Everett

This boi?? Oh lawd. This boi is the king of that look--the one that hits you like a train from across a busy room that says "let's fuck." Curtis doesn't need words; he just needs you. He absolutely ends up being the main initiator if you count all the looks. However, that doesn't mean you aren't giving him the eyes right back. 😁🤭

Jimmy Dobyne

Ugh. Jimmy waits for signals too much and really only is the initiator when he's very, very horny. In Common Education, since that's a modern AU, he takes the lead just as much as reader, but that is because reader has a position of authority (professor) over him at the beginning. Counter-intuitive? Nah, Jimmy finds that attractive. He's hot for it. See, the thing about Jimmy is he's an average joe. He gets kinda complacent and comfortable in traditional setups, so when his perfect partner pushes back against that boring dynamic, it lights a fire under him. He's intrigued. He's energized. That hint of danger is totally an aphrodisiac. "We shouldn't" are two of the sexiest words to this man.

Johnny Storm

Rarely isn't the initiator. Admit it, you knew that already. He's literally got the hots for you all the time. He's got that spunky energy of youth and cosmic radiation. He's DTF.

Jake Jensen

Okay, y'all know I love our babygirl so, so much, but Jake is oblivious to the idea women have libidos. He kinda thinks he's being a burden with how often he wants to touch you or fool around. It ends up being 50-50 on who initiates because he's s.l.o.w. He makes jokes and blushes and plays it off, and Jake assumes he looks more like a goofy man-child (probably because you've said that, verbatim) who isn't exactly the guy you'd want to jump on. Again, he's an idiot. We love him. Just...good gracious, just fuck him as much as you want. He's cool with it.

Lloyd Hansen

Lloyd is not patient enough to wait for you to initiate and also isn't so great with the word 'no,' even in the innocuous form of 'not now.' He will, at very least, threaten to find other entertainment to guilt you into servicing him. Secretly, he loves this game, a bit of fight, but only in small doses. Pretty much you're one chance to initiate is waking Lloyd up, otherwise it's all him.

Ari Levinson

Ari enjoys closeness. He mostly wants to be wrapped around you on the couch after long days at work which leads to who-knows-who started it sex, and with a little luck, a snack, and a hydration break, leads to a who-knows-who-started-it Round 2. He's pretty good at initiation but must be told to wait during those times you need either a different kind of closeness or some alone time.

This is only slightly different from Bedrock & Blueprints!Ari since having a decade of non-romantic experience with you, he doesn't always default to being that close to you. Not in a bad way--Ari is simply used to respecting your space, talking, and listening to you. All that 'baggage' actually helps you two have a deeper, longer-lasting relationship because it's more than just-physical for Ari.

Ransom Drysdale

Ran is a moody son-of-a-bitch and sex improves his mood. It's 50-50 since depending on whether he tries or you try to improve his mood. Ransom's not the most observant dude (putting it mildly), so he doesn't usually notice your mood behaves the same way. If you need some loving, it's then 100% on you to ask, let him know, or jump on that. This applies to...every single version of Ransom I can imagine, so this is RoAR, too.

Andy Barber

Busy. He gets tired. Andy will run himself ragged before remembering that he could have you join him in that essential-shower after a long day. He has bursts of horniness once big cases are finished or vacation energy once you two finally get away. While Andy is deep in work, it's all on you to initiate. If he's less busy/stressed, he will be the best, most playful, most attentive man, but Andy compartmentalizes his life. He can't focus on two aspects of his life fully at the same time.

Steve Rogers

Generally, I totally see Steve as being passive when it comes to initiating sex, but once I broke down the series I've written him in, that guy surprised me.

FRI--For the longest time, obviously, Steve was not the initiator in pretty much any way (couple of kisses, sure, but eh, that's about it), so he has to grow into a 50-50 split. There's a natural ebb and flow between Sketch & Keeps--sometimes it's more you, sometimes it's more him.

Hideout--Steve sure as shit wants you, but all the initiating and encouraging is you for a while. He rarely isn't in the mood when you hint at sex (or any variation of touch, etc). He takes less and less convincing to let go as you two get to know each other. Once he's gained the confidence, Steve initiating is a hott treat, let me just say...

IHTBY--Ummm, it's mostly Steve. Bit of a horndog, this one, and he's highly aware of the previous taboo of you working for him for most of your relationship. He checks in a lot, makes sure you're comfortable and not feeling pressured, and then takes over to show his devotion to you as a woman. Steve is intensely committed to appreciating your independence; he feels lucky (and turned on) knowing you choose to be with him.

Threadbare--Steve enjoys starting intimacy with Button because he often watches her handle lots of tools, paper, fabric, and other people (professionally), which gives him *ideas.* He likes to be the subject of your artistic attentions ☺️

Autumn Is Healing--Steve is the initiator most of the time actually. It began that way because he wanted to show you soft affection, but...he also really likes you (and escalation happens). He starts with very gentle touch, like running his fingertips down your arm.

So...I guess perhaps I was wrong about it being on you to start something...

Bucky Barnes

Cautious. Nowadays, Bucky likes to know the answer to a question before he asks, so he does wait for certain signs from you. He doesn't need overt signals, though, because Buck can sense every subtle change when he pays attention (there's something to be said for his comfort is *turning off* this gift around you as well btw): warmer skin, picked up heart rate, clamping and rubbing your thighs together. All that is to say that he absolutely knows if you're in a mood before making his move on you, and the only times when you technically get to initiate is if you legit pounce on him the instant he returns from a mission.

Thank you for asking!

[Main Masterlist; Who Would... Masterlist; Ko-Fi]

@supraveng @1950schick @patzammit @whiskeytangofoxtrot555

@yiiiikesmish @ashesofblackroses @jaqui-has-a-conspiracy-theory

@brandycranby @buckysprettybaby @ellethespaceunicorn

@late-to-the-party-81 @bigtreefest @mistressmkay @astheskycries

@rogersbarber @blogbog710 @yenzys-lucky-charm

[yuri-is-online]

Hi hi so can we have an expansion of middle school Floyd completely being his unfiltered self around yuu (maybe even octotrio going like "Oh please don't believe that merculture is like this" because middle school Floyd is embarrassing them in front of their crush) PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE

Hmmm

So Floyd says morays are cowards right, but my experiences with little kids tell me that they don't always have the best sense of self-preservation. I picture little Floyd as one of those kids on crack. He thinks this human is cute! Especially because they don't have the sense to be afraid of him at all and are calling him cute, that's real funny. What if he just takes a big chomp outta ya, will you still think he's cute? As for the embarrassment, well...

Azul

It comes from how blunt little Floyd is.

He's got even less patience for Azul's plans than big Floyd does, and the complete inability to see the value of waiting for the pay off. He's actively getting angry at him and throwing temper tantrums every time Azul tries to smooth things over with Yuu.

"No you can't get the ability to breathe underwater from kissing a mermaid Floyd is making that up. And no not all merfolk are obsessed with legs that's just a him thing-"

"Nah Azul really likes your legs and pretty much everything you do with them!" Little Floyd is loud enough that other people than just you are looking at him in confusion (Azul is convinced it is overwhelming judgment) because he's choking on a mixture of spit and air because how did he pick up on that already?!? Azul thinks he's so subtle when he admires you, he's got to be so you don't think he's weird.

He can't wait for this to be over, he can handle being made fun of by the twins now since they've got a good rapport and he can give as good as he gets but little Floyd is like a sea otter with a clam, he just won't let this go because he thinks octopus courtship is boring and he's not above saying that. Outloud. In front of you.

Jade

It's from how willing he is to throw Jade under the bus.

Floyd knows Jade pretty well, even if it's a younger version of him so he knows just how down bad stupid Jade is within 15 seconds and he is determined to "help."

Said help is mostly just humming a very specific song while swimming around you in circles and doing little tricks to "set the mood." Or asking you what you think about Jade when he thinks he's out of earshot, something he's never once been since little Floyd got summoned.

He thought this would be fun, Floyd is always so delightfully unpredictable and now there's two of him! But instead of bothering Azul he's decided to torture Jade and ruin his carefully cultivated image instead. He sort of gets why Azul was so determined to get rid of all his childhood photos now, you're never going to look at him the same after this.

When his efforts don't work because Jade is too much of a coward little Floyd starts just telling you a bunch of stuff they got up to as kids in an effort to embarras him. It clearly works from how quick Jade is to shove him to the side but you're polite enough to keep the laughter to a minimum. For the most part

Floyd

It comes from how much of a coward he is.

Floyd is waiting for the right time to speak with you, when he's extra sure that you feel the same as he does. When he knows you'll accept everything he wants to give you and more.

But no. Little him has to say everything that comes into his mind. "Are your legs soft? Why are you leaking seawater? Do all humans really only have ten toes and can I count them-"

If you find this funny, I think it might depress him somewhat. He wants you to see all the ways he's smart and not brush him off as an unserious joke. If you think it's cute, well that's a mix of emotions. He doesn't want you to see him as cute now, but it's ok if you find morays cute, and even nicer if you find baby morays cute. That thought alone perks him up.

Until little Floyd starts telling Yuu he thinks they're cute. Then he gets possessive and starts competing with himself like a looser. Probably by picking Yuu up and carrying them away since his legs are longer and he can get away faster.

[obvithe-bestsoph]

perfect strangers.

masterlist requests word count: 990

a/n: literally the entire inspiration for this fic was the song "perfect strangers" by jonas blue and jp cooper lol. h[ope you enjoy it, because it was actually really fun to write, and i'd love to do more fics like this! genre: fluff. warnings: partying, alcohol, kissing. (but not in like an angsty way If you get what I mean)

summary: you meet pablo gavi at a rooftop party and end the night no longer strangers.

The music’s loud enough to rattle your ribs, and the rooftop’s packed full of people doing all sorts of things - dancing, yelling, drinking like it’s the only thing they know how to do. And somehow, it all works. The night feels bigger than it should. 

Your drink’s half-warm, your hair’s messy and sticking to your neck and forehead, and you’re pretty sure that you’ve smiled more in the last hour than you have in the past month. This wasn’t supposed to be a real party, just a friend of a friend’s birthday, but now it’s turned into something, loud, chaotic, and kinda perfect.

And then you see him. 

You’ve seen him around before, Pablo - or Gavi, depending on who’s yelling his name. But this is the first time he’s actually looked at you like this. Like he recognises you, even though you’ve never even spoken to one another. 

He walks up like he’s already in the middle of a conversation with you. 

“You’ve been avoiding me,” he shouts over the music, grinning. 

You raise an eyebrow. “I’ve literally never talked to you.”

He laughs. “Exactly.”

You snort. “Right. That makes total sense.”

“I just think it’s kind of a waste, y’know?” he says, brown eyes not leaving yours. “Feels like we should’ve met already.”

You shake your head, smiling despite yourself. “That’s your pick-up line?”

“Not really. I’m just being honest.”

Your brain tells you to walk away. To say something sarcastic and disappear back into the massive crowd. But it’s summer, it’s late, and you’re bored in that specific kind of way that makes bad decisions seem good. 

So, instead, you say, “Alright then. Let’s fix it.”

He holds out a hand. “Dance with me?”

You don’t think twice. 

You end up dancing in that way that isn’t really dancing, just moving to the beat of the music and singing obnoxiously, bumping into each other and half-laughing the whole time. He’s not a bad dancer, but he’s not trying too hard. He’s famous, but he doesn’t act like he’s better than anyone else here. Just like he’s enjoying the party even more now that you’re standing in front of him.

He spins you once, just to mess with you, and you roll your eyes, but go with it. He catches you when you tipsily almost lose your balance, and you both laugh like idiots. 

“You always like this?” you ask, yelling over the music. 

“Like what?”

“Like you’ve got it all figured out. Cool and charming or whatever.” He leans closer so you can hear him. “I just go with it.”

“You’re saying this isn’t all part of your plan?”

“Nah. But if it was, it’d probably end with us making out on my couch.”

You laugh, not because it’s the perfect line, because it certainly isn’t, but because he says it like it’s the most obvious thing in the world. 

“You’re full of it,” you tell him. “Maybe. You gonna kiss me or what?” “Not yet.”

“Okay,” he replies, still grinning and dancing. “I can wait.”

You pull him away from the crowd when the sweat and noise get to be too much. The stairwell is quiet, cooler, kinda dirty, but neither of you cares. You lean against the wall and take a breath, looking at him in the soft yellow lighting. 

He looks different here. Less cocky, more curious and handsome. Like he wants to ask you something, but his mind can’t quite put the question together. 

“Alright,” he says after a second. “Give me something real.”

You squint at him. “What does that even mean?”

“Just… be honest. Not surface-level stuff.”

You pause, then shrug. “I don’t like getting too happy.” 

He frowns because that definitely isn’t the kind of answer he was expecting. “Why not?”

“Because… it never lasts. Night like this,” you gesture vaguely at the roof, “sadly, they fade. They don’t last.”

He leans against the wall next to you, not touching, but close. “Maybe that’s the point. That they’re not supposed to last.”

You look at him for a second before chuckling softly. “That’s actually kinda deep.”

He glances over, a small smile on his face. “Your turn to ask something.”

“Fine. Who are you when you’re not Gavi? Who’s just… plain old Pablo?”

He thinks about it. “Still figuring it out.”

You nod. Fair enough. 

It’s silent for a while. But it’s not awkward… It’s comfortable. Surprisingly.

“I don’t really feel like going back in, honestly,” you say quietly. 

“Then don’t.” “You’re not gonna get bored hiding in the stairwell with me?”

“Nope,” he says simply. 

You turn to him. “So what now then?” He meets your eyes. “Now I kiss you, if that’s alright.”

You don’t really say anything. Just step in a little closer. 

The kiss is soft. Not fireworks, not slow-motion, no heel popping, or sparkling eyes. Just two people who aren’t quite strangers anymore. His hand manages to find your waist, yours slides up to his neck, and for a second, the blaring music and the city and all the noise drop away. 

When you pull back, you’re still close. Foreheads almost touching. He’s smiling like he knows something you don’t. 

“That wasn’t bad,” you say. 

He raises an eyebrow, “Just… ‘not bad’?”

You laugh. “You’ll live.”

You end up sitting on the curb out front, so late, or rather, early, that the sun has started to rise, the sky a beautiful golden pink. His hoodie is draped over your shoulders. The street’s mostly empty now, except for the few drunken young people stumbling towards their Ubers. 

He bumps your shoulder. “So… we’re not strangers anymore, huh?”

You glance over at him. “Guess not.”

He nods like that settles things. Like he knew it would go like this from when he first asked to dance. 

You lean back on your hands, exhale slowly, and let yourself enjoy the moment. 

The night didn’t last… but maybe this could.

[astupidweeb69]

You know x-virus don’t get enough love…. Do you have any head cannons regular or nsfw (maybe both)??

I've been thinking about this guy a lot lately for some reason. Also I've never written for Cody before so hopefully this came out okay.

I was going to work on Toby's but.... I have more inspiration for Cody at the moment. He absolutely doesn't get enough love!

X-Virus Headcannons

SFW

Isn't related to Toby at all. In fact doesn't really look like him either. Sure, he's got the brown hair, but he looks waaay more dorky than Toby does. While Toby has kind of a boy-next-door-from-hell look to him, Cody is more slender and works out less. He looks like your typical STEM student (sickly complexion, poor nutrition, etc.). His whole schtick requires him to stay indoors most of the time, in a make-shift lab.

Has a refrigerated van, which he paid to be converted to safely transport whatever science experiments he's got going on in a temperature-controlled environment.

He tries to stay in one place. He's less of a drifter than most of the other creeps but sometimes... the things he does requires him to uproot his life and start over in another town. (No Cody you can't just infect your landlord with a mutated form of tuberculosis when they raise your rent! There will be consequences!)

Has kind of a nasally voice. I feel like he always has a bit of a cold too.

Ironically has a shitty immune system, and probably drinks those Airborne Immune Support drink mixes like it's his job. Also a germaphobe, wearing medical gloves all the time, and his hands are dry and cracked from overusing sanitizer.

LOVES Re-animator. He's rewatched that movie more times than he can count. But he has a love for science fiction movies in general, with horror elements to them. Like Alien.

Also loves zombie apocalypse movies, but that's an obvious one. Specifically 28 Days Later and World War Z.

Sometimes he's like... should I try to make a zombie virus? nah.... unless...?

I also think he was raised by a single father, who worked for a large pharmaceutical company.

Antisocial. I know Toby and him are compared a lot and people give them similar 'hyperactive' personalities, but I don't see that for Cody at all.

Cody's more focused, and is less inclined to interact with others. He doesn't really get lonely?

I'd say he'd get along okay with someone like EJ (both like science, ya know?).

Toby and him hang out a bit - they'll stay in and watch movies together. Or Cody will tag along with him to a bar and watch as Toby fails to pick up anybody. Cody wouldn't say it to his face, but it makes him feel better about his own social skills to see Toby strike out like that.

NSFW (Under the cut!)

I don't know how he'd find himself in this situation - but if he DID have a partner.... the sex would be kind of bland at first?

He doesn't know what he wants and frankly is too much of a germaphobe to get up close and personal with someone he doesn't know well.

You'd have to spend months getting to know him for him to feel comfortable to engage in anything sexual.

I think at the start of the relationship, he'd want to experiment with voyeurism.

He'd be across the room watching you touch yourself, giving you directions while he slowly strokes his cock, loving the feeling of ordering you around.

But as things escalate, of course, he'd give in to his urges. However, the voyeurism would become how he likes to foreplay.

Out of all the creeps (most of whom I view as being dominant) he's actually pretty tame.

He whimpers a lot, and it sounds almost pathetic when he moans. He's been holding out for so long for the right person, and when he finally gets to fuck he's absolutely drunk off of you.

That said, his sex drive is about average.

One of his roleplay fantasies is him being the experienced scientist, and you being his lovely little assistant.

Probably started after the first time you helped him in his lab.

He just kept thinking of you in a tiny little lab coat, bent over his desk - papers and test tubes falling to the ground while his hips piston into you.

[darl-ingfics]

Feveruary Day 25: Standing Vigel

Fandom: SHINee

Sickie: Minho (hangover, stomach ulcer - symptoms are there, they are misread as something else, but that's what it is.)

Caregiver(s): Key

Word Count: 1,355

Notes: Written for a prompt submitted by @kylsstuff. I did my best with it! Hope you enjoy!

“Damn, we didn’t even drink that much,” Kibum scoffed as he walked into his own bathroom to find Minho slumped against the wall. The ailing man groaned as Kibum flicked on the vanity light, writhing in discomfort. “How long have you been in here?”

“God only knows,” Minho whined, scrubbing at his eyes. He smoothed his hair off of his forehead before dropping his hands back down to rest atop his abdomen. “Maybe an hour?”

“Did you throw up?” Kibum’s voice was so nonchalant, his actions even more so as he started going about his normal morning routine, turning on the tap to wash his face. 

“Yeah.”

“Gonna do it again?”

“Probably.” 

Kibum hummed. “Coulda guessed that. You look green in the face.”

“And green is so not my color…”

Kibum snorted at the joke, silently thrilled that Minho was at least feeling well enough to mess around. The hangover couldn’t be that bad, then. But as Kibum watched Minho card his hands through his hair a second time, holding his bangs off of his forehead with the intent to make them stay off of his skin. Minho let out a small noise of frustration when the hair came flopping right back into his face. Kibum felt something terribly similar to pity well up in his chest. He turned off the tap and quickly dabbed at his wet face with a towel before digging around in the drawer for a moment. 

“Come here.” Kibum knelt down and gently grabbed Minho’s chin to turn his head towards him. Tongue slightly poking between his lips, the older man pushed back Minho’s bangs, securing it off of his face with a few clips. “There. Hopefully that feels a little better.”

The relieved look on Minho’s face, the way his entire body seemed to relax from that simple action, said it all. Still, he sighed out a, “It does. Thanks.”

“Anytime.” Kibum grunted for dramatic effect as he pushed back to his feet. Returning to the sink and his skin care routine. Squeezing the proper amount of toner onto a cotton ball, eyes focused on his face in the mirror, Kibum asked, “So, thoughts on our duet concept?”

“In general? I like the concept. But I feel like the song itself is… I don’t know… not us?” Minho shifted, rolling out his shoulders. 

“Yes!” Kibum hit the counter for emphasis. “It feels more like an NCT reject than a SHINee subunit, ya know?”

“Yeah, I agree, but… hang on…” Kibum didn’t even flinch when he heard Minho gag, followed by the horrific sound of vomit hitting water. Kibum did his best to ignore the following sounds of retching, knowing from experience that unless a hungover Minho asked for help, it was best to leave him be until the nausea passed. 

As soon as Kibum heard the toilet flush and the sound of Minho’s back slumping against the wall again, he passed over a paper cup of water and asked, “Guess we got your hair up just in time, huh?”

Minho scoffed and threw back the water. “Your bedside manner is astounding.” He handed the cup back.

Kibum refilled it and placed it back in Minho’s hand. “Don’t know what you’re talking about. We’re in a bathroom, not a bed.”

“Shut up.” Minho groaned, squeezing between his eyes. He grimaced as his hands returned to their important place clutching at his stomach. “I have not been this hungover in years.”

“You can chill here today, if you want,” Kibum offered, looking at Minho out of the corner of his eye, trying to distract from the kindness of the gesture. “I’ve got some Amazing Saturday pre-show prep this morning, and then I was just gonna go to the studio this afternoon, but I can work here and keep you company if you’d like.”

“Nah, no reason to rearrange your schedule for me."

But Kibum was watching as Minho clutched specifically at the right side of his abdomen. “Minho. Can you describe for me how you’re feeling?”

The rapper raised one eyebrow, unamused. “Um, like death?”

Kibum rolled his eyes. “Humor me here. Specifics, please.” 

Minho groaned, tipping his head back as if the very idea of naming his ailments would make them worse. “Well, obviously nausea and vomiting. Stomach pain. Awful headache. Tired and shaky.”

“Tell me about the stomach pain. Describe it.”

Minho filled his cheeks his air, blowing it all out in a puff as he thought. “Burning is probably the best word for it? A burning type of pain right…” He gestured to the center of his stomach, hand veering towards the right side, “over here.”

Kibum bit his lip before pulling out his phone, making a split second decision. Minho watched him warily as Kibum’s fingers tapped the counter with each ring. Finally, he heard a voice on the other end, and quickly replied: “Hi, my friend needs to get to the hospital ASAP. He’s been vomiting for a few hours, and now he’s complaining of pain on his right side.”

“Kibum, I do not-!”

The older man held up a finger to silence Minho’s complaints. That finger quickly turned into him lunging forward, pressing a hand to Minho’s forehead despite the rapper’s attempts to swerve away from his touch. On contact, Minho winced, as if having something against his skin irritated him. Kibum continued: “No, I don’t think he has a fever, but his skin is incredibly clammy and sweaty.” He bit his lip as he waited for the operator at the other end to finish their piece. “Um-hm. No, I don’t think it’s immediately urgent, but I just panicked and needed to call.” Pause. Kibum laughed. “Yes, I agree. Better to be safe than sorry.” Pause. “Yes, I can drive him. We’ll be there in a little bit. Thank you so much.” Kibum hung up the phone and before Minho could get a word in, he was already dialing his manager, who thankfully picked up instantly. “Hey, I’m gonna need you to move my schedule around if possible. Minho’s really sick and I need to take him to the hospital.” A few beats of silence. “That’s what I thought too, but I’m nervous about his appendix.” 

Minho reached to grab the phone from Kibum’s hand, missing by a long shot when the older man leapt to his feet and paced away. Minho moaned, curling his knees to his chest as the last of his energy went into trying to stop Kibum. In truth, he felt wrong. This wasn’t the normal feeling of a hangover. Especially not after the night he’d had; he’d expected maybe a dull headache this morning, but this? There was no way he’d even touched enough alcohol last night to make him feel this horrible. Like his stomach was eating itself alive. And setting everything around it on fire. 

“Okay, Minnie. Let’s get you up and dressed and to the doctor.” Kibum had his hands on his hips, fully in action mode. 

Minho peeked up at him. “You don’t really like it’s my appendix, do you?”

Kibum’s gaze was gentler than Minho had seen it in a while. “I really don’t know, love. But I’d rather be wrong and at the hospital than right and cramped in this tiny bathroom.” He held out both of his hands. “Need a lift?”

Minho nodded, taking Kibum’s hands. As soon as he was on his feet, Minho swayed, the pain in his stomach intensifying now that he wasn’t curled in on himself. He bent forward with a noise of distress, protective arms cradling his abdomen. Kibum’s hands grasped his shoulders, steadying him. But it wasn’t enough to keep Minho from crashing to his knees again, desperately throwing himself back over the toilet before throwing up again from the pain. 

This time, Kibum dropped to his knees and ran a soothing hand up and down Minho’s spine, quietly humming just loud enough for the both of them to hear. This wasn’t hungover Minho they were dealing with anymore. And, thankfully, Minho wouldn’t have to deal with whatever this was alone. Kibum wouldn’t allow it. 

[slvt4dillon]

Chew Tobacco, Chew Tobacco, Chew Tobacco, Spit!

warnings!⚠️: substance use (chewing tobacco), mention of underage drinking and smoking, cussing, peer pressure, mention of throwing up

summary: Tex tries chewing tobacco at the hands of Johnny and he likes it (oneshot)

a/n: heyyyy, I hope yall enjoy this one because I had to do some research for it lol. The title popped in my head (it’s a line from “boys round here” by Blake Shelton) and I KNEW I had to write about it. Kinda wrote this strictly for the title….

word count: 1.1k

✯ ✯ ✯ ✯ ✯ ✯ ✯ ✯ ✯ ✯ ✯ ✯ ✯

Tex and Johnny always took a smoke break during lunch. Every day, on the dot. Well, technically it was just Johnny’s smoke break, Tex didn’t smoke. Although he thought it looked cool, he was scared he would get in trouble so he was just there since he’s Johnny's best friend.

Today was different though, instead of being outside, Johnny was in the cafeteria. Tex saw him and looked at him with a suspicious look. “Takin’ a break from smokin’?” Tex asked, half teasingly and half curiously. “Cole said that if he catches me smokin’ again, he’s gonna whip my ass,” Johnny chuckled. “Well, what are you gonna do now? Just quit cold turkey?” Tex asked. “Nah, I got an alternative.” Johnny looked around before pulling a can of Grizzly out of his shirt pocket. “Damn Johnny, where the hell did you get that?” Tex asked curiously. “The same place I got my cigarettes from. I made friends with the corner store owner that’s on the other side of town and he lets me get them.” Johnny explained. He opened the can and the faint scent of the chew filled the air between them.

“Want a pinch? It’s on the house. Plus, wasn’t your birthday not too long ago?” “My birthday was six months ago,” Tex chuckled as he took a small pinch of the tobacco. He had never been one to get into trouble. He’d never smoked before and he didn’t get drunk for the first time until he was about 15. “And then you place it in between your gum and your lip,” Johnny instructs. Tex does as told and he ends up with a small lump in the front of his mouth. “Could use a little work,” Johnny comments. “It’s a little bitter, don’t ya think?” Tex says. “You just gotta get used to it.” Johnny replies. “Whatever you say..”

Tex shifts in his seat as he starts to feel a small buzz. It’s nothing big, getting drunk feels crazier to him. “This ain’t gonna make me do nothin crazy, is it?” Tex asked nervously. He couldn’t be caught under the influence at school, dad or mason would kill him! “Nah, you’ll just get a little buzz,” Johnny reassured him.

What Johnny didn’t tell him about is the nauseous feeling that would hit him in fifth period, where he sprinted to the bathroom, the buzz now gone. “Goddammit Johnny,” he muttered as he hurled.

…

A day or two later, Tex found himself sitting in his room craving that buzz again. “What has Johnny done to me?!” He wondered. He thinks about it for a minute before deciding that on his way to the ranch, he’ll stop by the corner store that Johnny goes to to get his fix, just this once.

He walks into the corner store, his heart beating fast. This place is on the other side of town, so nobody should see him that knows him. The older man at the counter greets him as he walks up. “Could I get a can of dip?” Tex asks softly. The man behind the counter chuckles. “Son, there’s all kinds of chew back here. Are you even old enough to buy it?” “Well, I’m a friend of Johnnys, so I was wondering if you could….” Tex trails off, not sure what to call it. “…set me up.” He decides. “You mean Johnny Collins?” The man asked. “Yessir,” Tex replies. Sometimes he gets nagged at by his friends for having such manners, but he can’t help it. “Alright kid,” the man grabs a specific can that looks just like the one Johnny had. “Your total is 5.97,” “For one can?” Tex asks. “Yeah son,” the man replies. Tex reluctantly forks over six dollars from his pocket and grabs the can.

Once out to his truck, Tex gets a pinch of the chewing tobacco and puts it in his lip, this time putting it more in the side of his mouth. Once he was all set, he stuck the can in his shirt pocket and headed for the ranch. This time, it felt like he was buzzed for longer and he was less nauseous.

He worked and worked on the ranch with the dip in his mouth until he couldn’t stand the sensation. He quickly scooped the pinch out of his mouth and threw it on the ground. That’s when he heard a vehicle pull up. It was Mason, who must have just gotten home. “Texas!” Mason hollered excitedly. Mason was the only one who got to call him that without getting hit. “Hey mace,” Tex said, hoping Mason didn’t see him spit the chew out. He had forgotten about the can in his pocket, he had a habit of doing that. “Say Tex, what’s that in your pocket?” Mason asked probingly.

Tex knew he had been caught. He decided that maybe if he played dumb, he’d get out of it. “Where?” He asks. “Right-” Mason pulls the can out of Tex’s open shirt pocket, “here.” “Oh, cmon mace, I was-” “don’t give me that “mace” shit right now Texas McCormick.” Mason sounded pissed, just like Tex knew he would be. Damn it to hell with his forgetfulness! Mason’s anger must have radiated onto Tex, because when he opened his mouth again, his voice was cold, a tone that shocked even himself. “I was holdin’ it for Johnny,” Tex protested. “Boy, I watched you spit that dip out on the ground, don’t lie to me!” Tex instinctively backed away as Mason yelled at him, thank god there was a scorching hot gate separating them, he remembered perfectly well what happened the one of the last times he and Mason fought. Mason sighed as Tex backed away. “Texas come back, I ain’t gonna hurt ya,” he sounded more hurt than anything, and Tex slowly reapproached the gate.

“If I catch you with this type of thing again, I’ll make it hurt,” Mason threatened. “Yes sir,” Tex said. He wasn’t sure why he was using such manners to his brother, just something about the way he talked he guessed. “I know you’re a little busy, I love you.” Mason said, the can still in his hand. “I love you too,” Tex said. As Mason was walking away, Tex hollered after him, “you ain't gonna tell pop, are you?” Mason shook his head and chuckled. And then, shockingly, he chucked the can at Tex, who did not catch it. Tex picked up the can and thanked Mason. “Well, you paid your money for it, so I figured it was right,” Mason smiled and got back in his vehicle and drove off.

[itsdawnforyou]

Eve of the daleks time. Gah. (Not me having fear over watching the last footage we have of 13 soon. Nah. Not me. Im also definetly not the same person who hasnt seen husbands of river song bc she knows she'd weep actual tears once its over. Not me no siree!)

ANYWAYS!

ELF storage. Hmm. Oh Jeff, why'd you do that?!

Socially awkward Nick. I umderstand you, buddy.

THE GOGGLES AND GLOVES ARE BACK! The gloves look like they'd belong to 9 with how small her arms look in them.

Uhhhhh Doc... that doesnt look like a proper reset. 😬 that looks more like collapsing the tardis in on itself and maybe possibly creating a black hole in the process. And thats no beach.

Right so quick first 10 minute guesses: the monopoly *is* hazardous and will catch on fire. Also oh no temporal anomaly.

Ah. Dalek. Nevermind then. Probably not the monopoly. Did it have to blast Nick like 20 times?! Does it not have enough juice for a one hit kill??

Oh. Machine gun dalek. Thats not good.

Aaand everyone is dead! Well then thats the episode, everyone! Now onto... the starbeast I think. (Im joking but also like uhhhhhhhh what?)

Ohhh great cinematography choice! With the tilted camera it makes the viewer feel their disorientation and its fantastic. Love it.

Ah, a bit of a tilt over the doctor yaz and dan, but it gets corrected quickly and they organize their thoughts. Noice. Timeloop? I like time loops.

Right so it goes nick, sarah, the gang. He has to kill them at the same order, presumably, otherwise he couldve just waited for the gang to go to nick in the lobby, but he didnt. Forcefield surrounding the entire building, probably, quantum locked?

Is the TARDIS facilitating the dalek creating a timeloop? I mean the cloister bell did go off just before it went all... hellish. This really all could be avoided if the doctor just read a manual in their life. Just once, doc. (Thisnis speculation im still before the dalek kills the gang the second time)

"Time loop" "time loop" "groundhog day" "...." "same difference" I LOVE DAN.

"Are you from building control? Are you with the council?!" "Yes. We're here to control your building" doctor... thats not- oh never mind.

"Wheres the way out?" "Thats the way out" "I mean the other way out" "there isnt another way out" "not a great plan, is it?!" Doctor the amount of time you shoved people into tiny cramped spaces with no other way out is too big to count, darling.

Okay so I was right, it is later each loop, probably cant be sustained, is it the tardis trying to protect the doctor and everyone in the building but cant sustain it because of the reset? Itd make sense.

Haha he vanquished an old door. Also quick question why is the doctor written so weird in this episode? Theres something.. off? Is it with Jodie? I dont know, the vibes are off.

IT IS! IT IS A CERTAIN ORDER! it killed sarah before the doctor and then yaz and then dan, I think? But it definetly got sarah first. Its going out of its way to kill in a specific order, even tho it said the mission is for the doctor's extermination.

"The timeloop was created by your TARDIS" HA! got it in one! Lets goooo

"And my friend Lauren said that the good hearted weirdos are the keepers so.." AND THEN YAZ LOOKS AT THE DOCTOR?! GET OUTTA HEREEEEEEEE... not the little "wut" from the doctor LMAOOOO

OH SMART NICK! Also the good hearted weirdo going to get the other good hearted weirdo. Lovely parallel there. Wonder if that means the doctor keeps past companion stuff in a closet somewhere on the tardis, all labeled.

"Oi, no dissing my mate, thats my job!" Haha I love the little yaz and dan interactions, very sibling coded.

Aww they finally confirm it and they have a cute little heart to heart with my favorite sibling coded pair and then THEY GET EXTERMINATED. Foreshadowing? Nahhhhhh surely not.

"She likes you" "I like her too" "no, I mean. She LIKES you" "I dont understand what youre saying dan" "I think you do" and then theres that heartbroken realisation from the doctor over the fact that *yeah, she likes yaz too. Has for a while now.* and you can almost feel for a second how her brain is running 1000 miles a minute over all the times she loved and lost and she's just not sure if she can do it again and then she just pushes it all into a box in her mind and locks it with 200 chains.

The doctor sitting in the chair is... well, I understand why yaz isnt looking her way because if I was id be looking like this 😍☺️🤤. The manspread? The rocking back and forth? The sass? Dayum. Is that seat taken?? 😚🥰🤭

"We'd be so good at supermarket sweep!" Okay but why didnt they have that as a promo thing? Thatd be hilarious to see!

"Go! Ill be right behind you!" And then yaz giving her that kicked puppy look?? Be still my broken heart how dare you yaz what id I died???

Oh I love Dan's little knowing look. Dan protector of lesbians strikes again!

[delucadarlingwriting]

Vampire Divorce Court - The Real Monster is the Friends Who Divorced Us Along the Way

[drags self in] I did it...

Life has been a bit all over the place. I've had this one written for a while, but I've been letting it marinate because I wasn't super happy with how I had it. I did make a few little revisions tonight and I like it more now, but I do still find there's just....there's SOMETHING here that I want to wiggle around into a better configuration.

Maybe I'm just craving a Farah/Adam scene and have yet to really write one. Making a note to self to add one in soon.

Summary: Farah doesn't know what to make of Barbie, but sometimes the best way to see inside a wasp's nest is to hit it with a baseball bat at Mach Fuckthousand.

First | Previous | Part 9 | Next

word count: 2,221

***

Book 1, Wayhaven, Marty’s Outdoor Store and Bike Rental

Wayhaven is completely, ridiculously boring. Alaska wasn’t exactly much better, but the lack of humans meant Farah didn’t have to think so hard about pretending to be human. Wayhaven has enough humans around that Farah’s always got to be thinking about which behaviors are too strange for humans to shrug off. It’s totally exhausting.

At least the store they’re in now isn’t super busy. The owner is around, he’d poked his head out when they came walking in, only to tell Kira to knock on his office door when they want to check out. Then he’d disappeared inside said office, followed by the sounds of a TV coming through the door. Other than that though, it’s just Farah, Kira, and Barbie in the whole store.

Apparently, this store is meant specifically for doing stuff outside, liking hiking and fishing and stuff. Farah still can’t get over how much stuff there is on Earth. It seems like humans are always buying things. She goes to a display of sunglasses, spinning it around until she finds a pair of dark aviator style sunglasses. Her reflection is grinning back at her in the opaque lenses.

“Are you going to get anything?” Kira asks, appearing beside her. Farah looks around at the various displays of clothes. Mostly a lot of boring shades of orange, brown, and gray, unflattering fits, and that awful plastic fabric that makes the worst sound imaginable when it touches itself. Farah wrinkles her nose.

“Nah, I think I’m good,” she says. Kira presses her lips together, but Farah can feel the humor radiating off her.

Even if Wayhaven isn’t Farah’s favorite place, Kira’s definitely worth sticking around a while longer for. She’s even called Farah her friend a few times.

“I feel very much the same,” Barbie says from a few feet away as she picks through a shoe display the same way one might pick through a bush for scorpions. She holds up a pair of chunky brown boots and sighs. “None of these are very…in line with my style.”

“It’s not really about style though, is it?” Kira walks over to help Barbie, Farah hanging back to casually continue browsing the sunglasses. She meant what she said about not buying anything though. If she did buy sunglasses, she’d have no excuse to steal Adam’s, which would really kill one of her favorite sources of fun. Looking at the sunglasses does give her the excuse of not helping with Barbie’s current dilemma though.

While the past few days have been absolutely mindnumbingly boring with basically nothing to do other than hunch over the same old files and pictures again, Farah hadn’t really jumped at the opportunity to accompany Kira to help Barbie find clothes for their upcoming hike through Wayhaven’s vast woodland. Normally she loves a side quest on boring missions, especially with someone fun like Kira. The addition of Barbie definitely put a damper on the prospect though.

Apparently, Barbie hadn’t bothered bringing anything other than two pairs of heels, several tight dresses, and a few suit jackets for this trip. Not that Farah has anything against her sticking to her personal fashion style. None of Unit Bravo (save Adam) really has anything that would be particularly outdoorsy either, but none of them would be thrilled to run around outside in one of Barbie’s usual outfits. Seeing Adam’s expression as Barbie explained they’d have to wait for her to find new clothes before the outing she’d demanded to go on was really freaking priceless. She laughs to herself even now just thinking about it.

Though Barbie has provided Farah with a bit of unintentional entertainment, Farah doesn’t really know what to make of her either. Farah had opinions on Barbie before they met, based on what she’s been told about her. The woman herself hasn’t done too much to disprove what anyone has said about her. Adam finds Barbie irritating and egotistical, but apparently his opinion on her has been exactly that since before she left Mason. Nat likes Barbie, but sort of diplomatically avoids actually saying much about her. Mason doesn’t talk about her at all. He doesn’t really like when anyone else does either.

“These should be suitable,” Barbie says, twisting her heel around to look down at the clunky brown boot wrapped around her foot. Her nose is wrinkled, because it’s a truly ugly shoe. She then looks up and around. “I suppose clothes will need to be next.”

“Sure you don’t want to do some shopping too?” Kira asks Farah playfully. Farah grins.

“Nah, I couldn’t step on your fun,” Farah says with a laugh. Kira gives a shake of her head, then goes off to link arms with Barbie, leading her over to the pants. Farah follows, because she’s supposed to, but also because if she has to babysit their special little human, she may as well get a better read on Mason’s ex.

She knows how everyone else feels about Barbie, but Barbie…well, she’s a bit of a tangled mess. Or…Less of a mess and more like a beehive, zipping around looking for a bear to sting. It’s hard to get past all the buzzing to figure out what’s going on past it.

What she did to Mason was pretty awful. There’s a lot that can get under his skin, but very little that inspires actual hurt. He doesn’t care about most people enough for that. So what is it about Barbie that let her wiggle in so close to his heart? And why would she break it?

There’s a low buzz from behind, and Kira says, “Oh, this is Tina.”

“Duty calls?” Farah asks, turning. Kira, phone in hand, gives a tired sigh and smiles, then jerks her thumb behind her.

“I’ll just be over there to take this,” she says. Then haltingly, she adds, “Maybe help Babs? She seems to be struggling.”

Farah’s expression falls. “Oh, uh. Yeah.”

Kira swipes a finger across her phone to answer, then hurries away as she says, “Tina? Everything okay?”

Technically, Kira isn’t in charge of Farah. She doesn’t have to help Barbie. There’s not exactly anything else to do though, and listening in on another report from the police station sounds even more dull than watching Barbie move hangers on the same rack again.

As she approaches, Barbie pulls out a tan button up and hums.

“The green one you just had is better,” Farah says, causing Barbie to yelp and drop the shirt. She lays a hand over her heart, which is beating almost as fast as it should now.

“Good Lord, don’t sneak up on me,” Barbie chastises before bending down to retrieve the shirt.

“What, you didn’t hear me?” Farah laughs. Humans not hearing, sure. But Barbie’s just about as much a vampire as any of Unit Bravo.

“Clearly not,” Barbie grumbles, returning to her slow, slow, slow shopping process.

“Is it because you don’t drink blood?” Farah asks. The metal hanger Barbie’s sliding makes a gut curdling skreeeeech.

“…Probably,” Barbie replies, a twitch forming near one of her eyes. Farah tilts her head.

“So why don’t you then?” Farah asks. Barbie pauses. “You know. Why don’t you drink—”

“Has no one told you to mind your own business before?” Barbie hisses. Farah grins.

“Sure. I’m terrible at it though. I heard you are too,” Farah says with a chuckle. “Though, that was before your grand transformation.”

“Grand is a word for it.” Barbie shudders. Farah frowns.

“Surely being a vampire isn’t that bad,” Farah says. “Do you just refuse to drink because you want being a vampire to be a terrible as possible, to justify what you did to Mason?”

The buzzing of Barbie’s emotions turns into a low roar, crackling with electricity that leaves a tang in Farah’s mouth.

Barbie slams the hanger in her hand back onto the rack, turns to Farah, and draws herself up to her full height. She is tall, but it’s still not terribly intimidating considering she looks like a stiff wind would crack her into a hundred pieces. Not to mention she has to pause to push her fake glasses up her nose.

“Stop talking about Mason,” Barbie demands. “Stop asking about me being like this. I don’t have a problem with you yet, but you are on your way to creating a problem.”

This feels like vindication, at least a little bit. Barbie’s been so detached about everything, especially about Mason, or least seemingly so. Now she’s being sort of honest. She cares somewhere in there.

“You definitely do have a problem with me,” Farah points out. Barbie frowns, ready to argue. “I mean, I’m a monster too, aren’t I?”

That comment has stuck with Farah since they first met, and though she’s tried to move past it, it just won’t dislodge no matter what. So many people see Farah that way, and her team, without even getting to know them. Just because of what she is. It doesn’t feel any better coming from another vampire.

Barbie flinches back, then growls.

“Yes, yes you are,” Barbie says. “A monster. Just like Murphy. Just like Adam.”

Something snaps in Farah at that. “Just like you.”

“Exactly!” Barbie yells.

The already quiet store goes absolutely silent. Even Kira, who was in the middle of a sentence on the phone, cuts herself off.

Barbie’s chest is heaving. There’s an odd, crazed look in her eyes. She slaps a hand over her mouth and turns away, but not before Farah catches sight of her fangs. Either Farah really managed to piss her off, or she has absolutely zero control over them. Either seems pretty likely.

A long, slender hand lands on Farah’s shoulder, giving a light squeeze.

Nat says, “I think that’s enough.”

“Yes, it is. I apologize,” Barbie says, the words muffled against her hand. She takes in a shaky breath. “I’ll be over there.”

She goes off, high heels clicking off beat. Farah watches, frowning still as she shakes Nat’s hand off. Nat sighs.

“Farah, please don’t antagonize Barbie about this,” she pleads.

“She isn’t even trying to cope with it,” Farah says. She shakes her head, then looks up to Nat. “Was this how she was about vampirism when she and Mason were married? Like, before?”

Nat shakes her head, sadness clinging to her like raindrops. “No, it isn’t. She used to be fascinated by vampires, along with any other supernatural beings.”

“Makes sense,” Farah says with a sigh. “I doubt she’d have been so tight with you guys otherwise.”

Nat makes a soft noise of agreement. “I didn’t…She’s changed a lot, since then. If I’d known the state she’s in, I might not have suggested we ask her for help."

“Should she go back to France then?” Farah asks. A brief feeling of concern floods her, taking Farah off guard. Maybe she shouldn’t be surprised. Sure, Barbie’s cold and mean and hurt her friend, but…she’s clearly really going through it. Being here doesn’t seem to be helping. Nat turns and Farah follows her gaze, all the way to where Kira is standing with Barbie, a hand rubbing her back gently as they talk. She could listen in if she wanted, but Farah focuses instead on Nat.

“They’ve bonded quite well,” Nat says with a small, tight smile. “Barbie’s hard to dislodge from the people she cares for. I doubt she’d go back even if we told her to.”

“It can’t be that hard,” Farah says pointedly. Nat shakes her head, but doesn’t fight her on it. Farah’s not really keen on arguing anymore either. “Well, at least I can say I don’t blame Barbie there. Kira’s pretty great.”

“Yes, Kira’s wonderful,” Nat agrees readily.

“Do you think that’ll be a problem for her fiancee?” Farah asks. Nat scoffs and waves a hand delicately as if to shoo the very notion away.

“I highly doubt Kira has eyes for Barbie,” Nat says, a little too quickly. Farah grins, but suddenly Nat is refusing to look at her.

“Right, because she’s got them for someone else,” Farah says. Nat doesn’t respond. Fair enough. Farah gives her a break, if only because that whole thing is probably going to get really messy. Well, it would, if they weren’t leaving Wayhaven as soon as they track down Murphy.

A pang of sadness has Farah blinking hard; she doesn’t actually want to leave. As boring as this town can be, Farah has gotten used to the dynamic Kira brings to the team. She likes seeing their detective every day. Kira even likes some of the same TV shows Farah does, and it’s WAY better watching stuff with someone else than by herself. Plus, she’s funny and tough and great to hang around. It’s going to really suck not seeing her anymore.

“I’m gonna miss her,” Farah admits. Nat puts an arm around her and draws her in close.

“It will certainly be hard to say goodbye,” Nat says, sounding melancholic. “It’s for the best though. She deserves to live a normal life. Once she’s safe, it’s best if we leave her to it.”

Farah leans against her, wondering how many times Nat has told herself that in the hopes of believing it eventually.